Reblog If You Are A Fic Writer Who Welcomes Moodboards, Playlists, Remixes, Art And Any Other Type Of

Reblog if you are a fic writer who welcomes moodboards, playlists, remixes, art and any other type of gift based on your stories.

Made some emotes for my smol server.

He tries to keep his tone light, to make it seem like he doesn’t care, but his voice gets softer when he says the word ‘serious’, and then he needs to clear his throat because why does it feel like he’s choking all of a sudden?! (ReiMobRei, MP100)

In Need of a Trim

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tags: age angst, canon age gap, insecure 50yo reigen, kisses, haircuts, grey hairs, comfort, dates, rated E but this PV is sfw

note: this is a rewrite of another fic i wrote called "a grey hair a day" so if you read that one already, this one has more scenes, specifically from reigens pov in the hopes of a more balanced dynamic (idk if i succeeded tho ;o;)

p.s: i told myself i would submit an mp100 prompt for this bang i joined and I FORGOT *cries* maybe i'll update the drabbles fic i have, i kind of want to write something for them, lmk if you have any ideas~

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Reigen is almost 50 years old when Mob realizes that he’s been dying his hair regularly. He’s not sure how he missed it, thinking back on it now. The signs are obvious: Reigen coming home with a different set of clothes (the job got a bit messy, that’s all) and how unnaturally glossy his hair looked sometimes (oh you know, I’ve been trying out this new product, it’s supposed to make you GLOW ). But his biggest clue should have been Reigen’s age

Ritsu is younger than Mob and he’s been showing grey hairs since he turned 30. Ritsu, as usual, never fails to make a pointed remark toward Reigen at Mob’s observation

“Ritsu,” Mob admonishes him. Ritsu had come to visit Seasoning City (he’d moved out years ago) for their parents’ birthdays and had made plans to have dinner with him. They were now at a restaurant near Reigen’s office (yes, they were still doing Spirit Consulting and yes, Ritsu was still slightly bitter about that)

Ritsu rolls his eyes, “Fine. Fine. I’m sorry, but really? Even Mom, who used all those anti-aging products, got grey hairs before she hit 50.”

“But I’ve never seen him with any grey hairs,” he counters. 

Ritsu, who had been about to take another bite of his hamburger, pauses. He shrugs a second later, “He probably dyes it. I can’t think of another explanation.”

He digs in and chews, thinking, and then nods, his mouth still slightly occupied, “Pro’ly w’ried.”

Mob frowns, genuinely confused, “Worried? About what?”

Ritsu smiles at him, “You really are still the same when it comes to some things. Fine! I’ll help. It’s his age, Shigeo. His partner is 14 years younger than him! He’s probably worried about how that looks to others.”

He sends one of those looks at Mob and Mob decides to ignore it. He’s focused on this revelation. Yes, he’s conscious that Reigen and he have a rather hefty age gap and many people have expressed their disapproval throughout their lives, but this had been something the two talked about before. 

He thought that Reigen had understood that age was something Mob didn’t care about, but as he continues to talk with Ritsu, he realizes that perhaps he hadn’t been as reassuring as he could have been. He’d need to try harder, and the first step was to see if Reigen was truly dying his hair

.

.

.

He’s not exactly sure how to bring up the subject. If Ritsu is right and Reigen IS dying his hair (Mob is realizing the possibility of this being true has now shot up to 99%) because he’s worried, should he just march into their home and announce, Reigen, I don’t care if you have grey hairs, I think they’re beautiful?

Reigen would surely call him a liar and he’d partially be one. After all, he’d never actually seen these alleged grey hairs (but Mob knows he’d love them because they were Reigen’s grey hairs, so no, he wouldn’t really be lying)

.

.

.

Reigen realizes something is wrong with Mob immediately. He hasn’t been officially together with Mob for nearly a decade for nothing! His usual modus operandi is to let Mob come to him, to let him sort out his thoughts and feelings, which is why he doesn’t say anything. 

He doesn’t say anything when he feels Mob’s stare all day as he’s trying to convince a pair of teenagers that him being old is actually a good thing, It’s the young swindlers you need to be wary of! I have wisdom beyond my years! Besides, he coughs, we’ve been doing this for longer than you tweens have been alive. We’re experts! Right Mob?

Mob misses his cue and Reigen nearly swats the little twerp who mutters, He doesn’t look like he’s all there either…

Luckily, he does come back to his senses when it’s time to do the job, which somehow ends up with Reigen falling into a ditch and ruining his trademark suit. It’s been a while since that’s happened and Mob apologizes so much that Reigen decides to show him that yes, he’s more than forgiven, and no, it’s not your job to stop my every fall, it’s ok, besides, we finished the job quickly, you did really well

As they lay in bed, Reigen the big spoon this time, he can’t help but wonder if this has something to do with him and that’s why (a week after Reigen noticed) Mob hasn’t said anything

.

.

.

It most definitely is related to Reigen. 

Reigen really hates to bring up his age as an explanation for everything (he’s come to realize that this is an “old-man” trait), but in this case, he’s sure becaus e he’s no spring chicken. But also, Mob is a little too fixated on him, touching his hair and face at random moments with no mind to their setting, petting him , watching him when he thinks Reigen isn’t paying attention, staring him down when Reigen decides to make eye contact, his mind silently screaming tell me what’s wrong! This is your chance! But no.

It’s honestly starting to get a bit unnerving and since he doesn’t want to live the rest of his unmarried married life with a quiet, potentially too contemplative, and getting creepier by the week Mob (he’s not even sure how he survived a month of this already!), he decides to ask for some help

He’s at the station with a disgruntled Ritsu on the line. He’s tight-lipped. 

“You do realize my allegiance is with my brother and that I hate you, right?”

The sound of the train leaving echoes in the space, making Ritsu nearly inaudible but Reigen has heard this line so many times, his brain fills in the words he misses. And, like always, he replies, “Don’t you get tired of lying? I know you don’t actually hate me. Besides,” he counters, “I don’t want you to spill, I just…need a hint. Is it…serious?”

He tries to keep his tone light, to make it seem like he doesn’t care, but his voice gets softer when he says the word ‘serious’, and then he needs to clear his throat because why does it feel like he’s choking all of a sudden?! 

A little voice, the traitorous one that sounds like his parents, whispers in his ear, feeding his fear of losing Mob. He’s probably tired of you and is trying to run you off, what did you expect, at your age

“Aren’t you with my brother now? Just ask him.” Except that they’re not together and that’s the reason he called Ritsu.

“It’s been a busy season so we split up to cover more ground.” Mob hadn’t wanted them to, saying it could be dangerous, but Reigen had a thing for weeding out most of the non-spirits-related cases and had taken on those jobs

Ritsu sighs dramatically, “Fine!”

And Reigen should be happy at the admittance but he knows Ritsu so he’s sure he’s not getting what he wants. Ritsu is only compromising, but that doesn’t stop him from smiling, or his heart from hammering in his chest, worried and anxious. He’s sure he paints an interesting picture. He’s already paid his fair but he’s standing in an alcove in the middle of the station, his suit tattered at the back, mud on his knees and calves, and a few scratches on his hands

He’s probably sweating a lot too. He can feel it

“It’s not what you’re imagining! That’s all I’m giving away!” he yells and then mutters a not-so-quiet, you two are equally hopeless! before the line goes dead

.

.

.

Reigen makes it back home before Mob, which surprises him. He’s moving on autopilot: removing his clothes (ruined), washing off the grime and smell of angry cats from his hair (it’s getting long again), and then soaking his tired bones (why is he so tired?). It’s when he’s sitting in the tub (for how long, he’s not even sure) that he snaps back to reality. He yells out, “How do you even know what I’m imagining?!”

Yelling helps him relax and then he starts laughing at how ridiculous this all is. At how ridiculous he’s being

He shakes his head, “At least he didn’t say not to call back this time.” Not that Reigen ever listens to that demand

Mob comes home right when Reigen is dry, but still only wrapped in a towel, debating whether to try and save his suit pants or just throw them away. 

(They decide to try and save them together)

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.

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Mob finally says something three months later. It’s summer, the heat is unbearable even at night, and Reigen is upset about how long his hair is. He’s fresh out of the shower, wearing his loose and comfy pajamas and Mob beckons him over to the couch. 

He uses his powers to turn on the light so that it isn’t just the light from the TV bouncing on the walls. Reigen sits next to him and Mob maneuvers them so that Reigen is between his legs. He uses the towel around Reigen’s neck to start drying his hair

“What’s wrong?” he asks. Reigen bumps his back a few times and groans when Mob applies a bit more pressure with his powers. 

“My hair is getting too long and the place I usually go to just closed!” he complains, “The owner retired and the girl that works there decided to open up her own place elsewhere. I’m happy for her. They pay better in the big city, but now I’ll have to find a new place.”

Mob touches the ends of Reigen’s damp hair and smiles, “It is getting a little long.”

Reigen leans back, further into Mob, which makes drying his hair more difficult, but Mob doesn’t mind. He puts his arms around his waist and breathes in the smell of Reigen’s shampoo. 

“I wonder if Tome can recommend something. She’s always going to salons with her wife.” Reigen’s voice is less directed at Mob and more just him talking to himself. 

“I can cut it for you,” Mob suggests. He’s not even sure why he says it. He’s never cut hair before. 

Reigen turns to him and raises his brow, “Don’t tell me you’re secretly a professional barber?”

Mob kisses Reigen’s crow’s feet and smiles, “No, but I’m sure I can learn. For you.”

Reigen contemplates, “I don’t know…”

Mob has him sit up so he can finish drying his hair. Once it feels dry enough, he sends the towel to the back of one of the kitchen chairs and runs his hands through Reigen’s hair. He smooths it down and as he’s running his fingers through the hairs covering his ears (definitely needs a trim), he sees them. Little grey hairs sticking out, barely visible, and only the roots

Mob leans down to kiss his hair, right behind his ear, and whispers, “Beautiful.”

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.

.

Mob’s staring stops but the hair touching (somehow) intensifies and Reigen realizes what this is all really about. 

They’ve always had a routine before bed, which consists of Mob helping Reigen dry his hair and Reigen (usually) giving him a massage (he’s only gotten better after all these years of practice). But now Mob wants to comb his hair, especially on days when Reigen wakes up with bedhead. Since it’s easier (and feels nicer) than pulling out mirror after mirror to try and see the back of his head, Reigen agrees to Mob’s insistence

But not always! I can’t have you pampering me every day. Think of it as a treat. And when Mob’s face lights up, Reigen realizes it’ll be a treat for them both

It doesn’t stop there. Mob also makes sure Reigen sees that he’s serious about his hair-cutting proposition. They’re in the office, Mob at the computer, looking up hair-cutting tutorials and they’re all (un)surprisingly for short hairstyles like his. 

Reigen hovers behind Mob’s chair. 

They’d been so busy for the last few months but this week things had finally started to slow down. Today almost seemed like an anomaly. They’d had no scheduled clients (potentially suspicious) but also no walk-ins either. He’d briefly considered closing early but with age also came this need to do something, to be useful . He couldn’t just close up for no reason

“You’re serious about this,” he says after Mob clicks on a new video.

“I’m always serious about you, about us,” Mob replies without a second thought.

Read the E on AO3

Gift for TachibanasWife: Hajime laughs, “Are you going to ask me if I’d still love you if you were a worm again?” (IwaOi, HQ)

Would you still love me if I were the size of a truck?

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tags: omegaverse, pregnancy, implied antenatal depression, comfort

note: i've picked up a few more HQ gotcha fics after pinch hits were opened up and here's one of the (surprisingly many?) pregnancy fics i picked up. enjoy~

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Tooru has mixed feelings when he ends up pregnant. He imagines himself in a few months, all stretched out in the middle with no clothes big enough to fit him. He’ll have giant swollen feet, will probably be lucky if he can see them, and won’t be able to go to the bathroom alone. He’s sure that by the time he’s six months pregnant, Hajime will be tired of him and he’ll be giving birth alone!

Hajime notices he’s spiraling and pinches his cheeks to get him to focus again, “I’m not going to leave you.”

“But I won’t be pretty anymore,” Tooru tells him. He’s only half joking. He knows Hajime isn’t the type of person to care about stuff like that, but…pregnancy was a big change. Not just physically. Their lives would be different from here on out. What if he gave birth and Hajime changed his mind about being a father with him? 

His husband kisses him and then whispers, “You’re always going to be the prettiest. Now stop fishing for compliments!”

Tooru pouts, “You only say that now because I’m not the size of a truck!”

Hajime laughs, “Are you going to ask me if I’d still love you if you were a worm again?”

“No,” he grins, “I’m going to ask if you’d still love me if I were the size of a truck.”

His husband pulls him close and starts to scent him, “I would.”

“I’ll be all hard edges and cold and huge. I won’t fit on normal roads.”

He gets a kiss on his temple, “It’s fine. We’ll take the long way. And listen to that cringey pop music you love.”

Tooru is already feeling sleepy from their scenting but he weakly pounds on Hajime’s chest, “Pop music isn’t cringey. It’s stylish. And catchy. I’ve heard you humming it before. Fake hater.”

He feels the rumble of laughter as he closes his eyes. 

Scenting soothes Tooru. 

It always has but it helps even more after he’s pregnant. He’s not sure why but doubts easily worm their way into his head nowadays and he’s glad he has Hajime at his side to keep him grounded. He’d never known having a child would be so exhausting, not just physically but also mentally (His mother laughs when he tells her, I just thought I’d feel bad for two weeks and that it would hurt 9 months after that! )

It helps when he reads books like The 101s of Childbirth, What the Media Hides About Childbirth, a Guide For Pregnant Parents by Real Birthgivers, How to Raise Independant and Healthy Kids, Simple and Easy Exercises for Omegan Parents, and Will My Body Ever Recover? 10 Easy Steps to Get Back Your Pre-Pregnancy Body by Award Winning Pregnancy Coach Tanaka Jun. Hajime tells him that he doesn’t need books like the last one. That his body will always be perfect. He scowls down at some of the advice and tells him, Your body is changing so that you can nurture our baby properly, during the pregnancy and after. 

Tooru isn’t easily pacified. He whines, “But you’re my husband! You’re supposed to say mushy things like that!”

Hajime sighs but looks determined, “Ok. If you’re really worried, I can take care of researching that aspect of pregnancy. You’re already stressed enough.”

And he does. Tooru has seen more reputable titles on his desk (Building Body Fat for a Healthy Pregnancy, 10 Ways to Help Keep Your Mobility While Pregnant) and in his bookmarks (5 Ways My Wife Helped Decrease My Stress During Pregnancy, What I Wish I Knew Before I Became Pregnant (And How I Improved My Mental Health)). They start doing simple workouts at home, which are mainly stretching and breathing focused. It helps him relax 

The scenting especially helps when the morning symptoms finally kick in and when the bump finally grows from the size of a peach to the size of a volleyball. 

He feels so undesirable in those moments. 

“Let’s go out on a date,” Hajime tells him one day when Tooru is under so many blankets, brooding. 

“Don’t wanna.”

“Didn’t you say you were craving something sweet?” he asks and Tooru feels himself crumble.

“I am…”

Hajime snakes a hand under the blankets to rub at his belly, “Let’s go for a walk. We can get some fresh air.”

He doesn’t need to tell him he’s worried about Tooru staying cooped in for days for him to understand. He gets out of bed and his feet are slightly sore. Hajime takes no pity, telling him it’s his fault for hibernating in their nest while he’s been busy at work. Then apologizes for being so busy that week. He massages his feet before they go out. 

Walks are miracle workers. They must be because it helps improve his mood. 

He loves being bathed by Hajime’s scent but it’s fall now and the smell of the crisp air, of the falling leaves, and the flow of the river…it all makes him feel at peace. It also helps that he’s finally eaten something sweet. It doesn’t satisfy the crave completely, but it’s a start. 

They hold hands as they sit down near the playground. It’s a weekend so it’s full of children laughing and running around, and families walking their dogs. Tooru watches, transfixed, at how many pregnant parents are walking around. 

He’s the first in their group of friends to get pregnant. Some of them don’t want children and others have said they’re not ready yet. He got congratulatory messages and Hinata had been hounding him for details about everything. Even Ushijima had sent him a message. A simple ‘I’m happy for you’. Kageyama had asked if he needed anything about two months ago and Tooru had left him on read (until Hajime told him he was being petty). His reply might have been petty

He grins, “Iwa-chan! Let’s take a picture!”

Hajime smiles, “It’s been a while since you last called me that…”

And Tooru realizes it’s true. He feels his eyes water slightly, “Sorry. I’ve just been…it’s been hard…”

“Don’t,” Hajime tells him, “You don’t have to apologize. Ever.”

They take a few pictures but they’re not exactly what Tooru wants, and it isn’t until another expecting couple walks over and offers to take their picture that he’s satisfied. 

He posts the picture onto his Instagram. He hadn’t updated it in months. He thinks it’s easier like this. In the caption he writes: Iwa-chan and I went on a date! Iwa-chan, tell me how pretty I look #pregnantandbeautiful

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Fierce deity Sukuna x Little Monk yuuji

※ AU ooc, Little monk Yuuji on a pilgrimage to find and consume Sukuna’s finger. 

※ In my delusion it’s Kamakura period (right after Sukuna’s era)

※ Want Yuuji to simultaneously look like a bride and a monk 

※ Calls Sukuna as Sukuna (irreverent brat)

※ Curse power red because the little tyke is ~70% already a curse. 

※ Considered a threat by Sorcerers Associations because he’s trying to find Sukuna’s fingers (for his own purpose)

 sukuna calls him 小僧 (little monk) in canon so there’s no way i’m skipping monk yuuji au.