♔ THE GRAND KING.

A pipe.. Is that it’s weakness? You must tell me where it’s loca—? A hot plumber?

I see…

Are those.. the only people who knows the secret behind these foul monsters!? Then I shall call for them.

[Walking to the window, opening it, he places his hands down on the edge and leans his head out.]

HOT PLUMBER, WE NEED YOU TO COME HERE! HOT PLUMBER…!

#WHY IS KANESAN A FKIN MENACE #IM SO OVER THSI #FUGHDFHG #kanesexy

[ he’s really given up by now, just watching Kanesan go towards the window. hoe don’t do it... ]

...

[ oh my god. ]

S - stop, that’s embarrassing! It’s not how you call someone! You use a phone! [ DRAGS HIM AWAY FROM THE WINDOW WHY. ] Did you throw yours off the table again? Sheesh.

Do you not appreciate my protection over you, you don’t understand! These are monsters, they try to devour you whole with one fell swoop! If it’s attached to the ground I’ll find another way to remove it, we must destroy the level of this housing that contains THIS beast, please go stand outside.

#UGUFHG WHY ARE YOU A FKIN MENACE #kanesexy

But... it’s just a toilet. It’s in every house, and it’s not alive, so it can’t... “devour you.” Just... leave the bathroom before you cut through a pipe, or something -- now that’d be troublesome.

... though, I guess we could always call a hot plumber to help us out! ★

Pushes your toilet out your house.

#STOP ITS JUST A TOILET #WHERE DO YOU PEE!!!!#kanesexy

Stop trying to push it out, it’s kind of attached to the ground you know.

#KANESAN....

ok but a lot of my friends tell me that i look like beyonce

The wandering eyes that continue to fall on the male who’s body wore a familiar red jersey, perhaps isn’t the same since the designs were different but if Kanesada didn’t know any better, he would have mistaken the person for someone else. Black hair is a given but alas his height did not fit nor did he try to come and bombard the tachi. So it’s strange to see someone who almost fits the description of his assistant.

”Ew.. is right.” He flinches as he looks back at the man who seems to be having a sloppy make out— is that? The sword has no idea what it is the round object around the male’s neck, but the troll is placing his lips upon the item. He must be very happy about it. This really bothers him just a bit so he diverts his attention back to the male before him as he gives a sigh. Kanesada raises a hand to move them through black locks showing how distressed he is.

To have so much hair on one being, it’s almost as if his hair sparkles in the sun? Is he a Vampire? Jk lol.

”I’ve seen women chosen by royalty to be someone’s wife, but this monstrosity looks like no king but.. a .. villager. I overheard this phrase from someone, I believe this man to be the fungus that feeds on the pond scum. No, lower. The pus that infects the mucous… that cruds up the fungus… that feeds on the pond scum.” He states this knowing majority of what he’s saying, all in all, it’s an insult and he likes it.

A few people nearby seem to be making faces, as if they’ve seen or smelled something they don’t like. Looking around, there’s something that’s bothering the people within the crowd, how it breaks apart and Flava Flav is curious as to what’s going on. Or perhaps, it’s the cage that takes their interest. “Oikawa Tooru,” Kanesada speaks his name to have it adjusted to his tongue, it’s nothing like the simple old days but he’s sure to remember it, “Removing ourselves from such a place is ideal, I have better things to do than deal with this.” The peace sign is known to him, Naki always made little hand gestures and the other swords seem to like doing such hand signs like this.

It’s a blessing he can understand such a few things whilst being taken away from a time of nothing but countless war. Then again, this whole celebration is War. That man, Flava Flav, he is the Mighty Big One.

Following after Oikawa’s steps, he makes sure to halt his movement when the other stops, concerned as to what’s going on and caught his attention. The tachi leans back up, his gaze targeting towards the people who are screaming about their shoes and others who are laughing at what resides in the cage but once the animal was freed, even Kanesada believes he’ll fall into a pit of laughter. “Survive poultry? A.. Ahaha.” What the hell is this joke, “Is this a joke? Haha, an animal like that can’t attack anyone and remove the skin from common human’s le—”

But is Kanesada wrong as he watches in horror the chicken flap it’s wings wildly towards the male who wore the red jersey, the chicken pulling at his pants leg enough to rip a hole in it. The raven falls as if he’s yelling for his life, a ‘squelsh’ sound is heard as the man pushes himself back by sliding on his butt, the attire becomes soggy at the bottom and a lump appears as if something is weighing his pants down and tighty whities that were to be exposed are darker, feces excreting from the side of his underwear.

Kanesada believes, he really believes, he’s going to be sick. “I..” His eyes watch as the chicken begins to peck through the hole of the man’s pants, the orange of it’s mouth becoming red as it begins to rip off white skin from the hole it’s made. A scream coming from the male who’s suffering, a loud BRRRRRNNNN coming from him and more of his.. secretions begin to leak out.

A hand on Kanesada’s chest.

Flava Flav opens his eyes and then points to what’s going on, it’s not even the chicken he’s worrying about.

”..Did. Did this man just shit on my man Kyoya Gaen’s yacht like that?” Whoever he’s asking, he seems so concerned. "Boi.. gee. Rick. Rick who let this man get past security, My man Gaen slippin."

#IM LITERALLY IN FUCKIGN TEARS #LET MY SUFFERING END #kanesada: o1.#kanesexy

Truth be told, he feels offended. By this cruise, by this man, by the boy in the red jacket and by the chicken. All of this is offensive on personal level, and he can't quite believe that they're making him watch this... disgusting display. As Kanesada halts with him, and mocks the clearly enraged chicken, Oikawa snorts; he's fairly positive it's impossible, but then again, chickens do have sharp beaks. It's just that they're usually rather docile -- or, at least, female chickens are. This one is a rooster (the feathers on his head kind of remind him of Kuroo's hair, really) and it's clearly out for blood.

Thankfully, not Oikawa's.

As it latches onto the boy's leg (Oikawa thinks he looks pretty familiar -- did he try to intrude to hang out with his daughter once? If he did, Oikawa is glad he didn't let him in), he screams in pain, falling straight onto his butt. The sound that the fall produces is... unnatural, at best. Instead of a sharp smack of bone hitting the wooden panels, a squelch can be heard, and then he sees... it.

"Oh my God, oh -- ugh, I'm going to throw up," one of his hands wanders to Kanesada's shoulder as he turns away, leaning on the man slightly. "Ohhhh my God, what did I do to see this, aaah! This is so disgusting!" As he freaks out, the boy continues screaming, as the chicken keeps to tear at skin and flesh. A sick smell of feces and blood rises in the air, and Oikawa has to pinch his own nose to keep it out. Honestly, he'd rather choke than open his mouth right now -- death seems like the better option.

He's nearly in tears by the time Flava comes down, commenting on letting the boy on the yacht. As stupid as the old man is, Oikawa has to agree -- who's even married to this guy? Whoever it is, he feels deeply sorry for their loss.

When he gets the courage to look again, he sees a massacre -- the chicken had left the boy's leg, but it looks positively destroyed, flesh and bone visible through long tears in his sweatpants. He's still screaming, the sound of his voice blocking out most of the noise, but something else catches Oikawa's attention -- namely, the chicken, who seems to be running after his daughter now. Ayano looks scared, trying to avoid suffering Shintaro's fate, and Oikawa feels panic -- he can't just let her leg get eaten, can he?

"Sorry, I'm going to borrow this real quick," he says to the stranger, grabbing the hilt of the sword fastened by his side. He pulls it out with one, smooth swing of his arm -- and while he can't be sure that the sword's even real, if he can hit the chicken with it, it should be fine, right? And just like that, he jumps into the crowd and away from Shintaro and the awful smell, chasing after the chicken. Ayano seems trapped, her only way out being jumping into the water -- he approaches the chicken from behind, sneaking up on it slowly, until it's within the reach of the sword to cut.

With a deep breath (he's not heartless -- killing an animal still makes him sad, regardless of how monstrous said animal is) he swings the sword once -- tears the chicken apart with one, smooth cut, improvising completely. He's seen sword-fighting in anime before, though, so really, how hard can it be? Aside from cutting the chicken, the tip of the sword gets stuck in the wooden boards underneath. He tugs on it a few times to pull it out clumsily, and when he does, people swarm around him, cheering.

"THIS HERO HAS SLAIN THE BEAST! GIVE IT UP FOR YA BOOOOI!" Flava yells, throwing his hands up in the air, and the crowd responds in a similar manner. He's surrounded, now, but his gaze wanders to seek the stranger -- he did take his sword, after all.

He still has to apologize and give it back.

taichichuwhat-deactivated202201

Bonus Track of Val’s birthday: Bed hair Oikawa.

…and actual human being Iwa-chan

#passeur.

ok but a lot of my friends tell me that i look like beyonce

Lord. Is he having a hard time? Perhaps. As some young, older-aged, lacking any handsome aspects male is running around sticking notes on each and every person. Izumi no Kami Kanesada knows that he’s a beautiful man, some people just aren’t lucky to gain such looks like him so when the man believes he can place his hands on Kanesada for this … slip of paper and get a feel up on his chest. Can he get a restraining order for this man, please?

Even the name was pathetic, ‘Red Oyster’, is it because of the color that he wore? Sapphire gaze falls onto the various attendants, a young girl with a red scarf has a name that’s ‘Sweetie’ and a young man beside her is deemed ‘Hoopz’. What ridiculous names, as it goes on, a man with black hair who seems to be eyeing the brunette that has decided to come towards him, the name patched on the raven is ‘Serious’. These names, honestly, what is this?

To be truthful, Kanesada is tired but he does have to make himself appear like he’s someone before people because he is— no matter what. As tired as he is, that doesn’t leave his features that much since he already seems to be tired with this ordeal already.

”Is this some sort of celebration?” He asks to both him and the male who inquires the same answers, “Apparently we’re competing for his heart—” The way he says this as if it’s slightly disgusting, the man— no this troll is ugly, his stress lines are showing, his shades, his hat, lord, take him away. “He must have found many of us quite attractive if he’s going this far to find someone for this.” Which Kanesada doesn’t blame him, he is a good looking man. If this is a celebration, he wants no part of it and it already seems like the person labeled ‘Pumkin’ is close to just leaving on the spot.

A hand placed upon his side and the other rests upon the sword, “Do we have to do this, I mean..” He points to his name tag, “This isn’t even my name.” He’s a refined sword, at least give him his accurate name? He needs guidance, he is a semi-young-old sword.

#IM LAUGHIGN SO HARD WHY #kanesada: o1.#kanesexy

It seems amusing, the entire, collective confusion this man's actions cause -- people look bewildered, some of them attempting to escape (and being stopped by a big man, whom 'Flavor Flav' refers to as Big Rick, or sometimes Ene,) some attempting to hide. He sees a boy, dressed in a red jacket (the name paper on his chest reads 'Somethin'), crouching down suspiciously, then looking around as if to make sure no one saw him. Their gazes lock for a second, awkwardly, before he turns away to answer his apparent companion.

"If it is, I have no idea what could possibly be celebrated like that, ew," the man is ugly, after all, and Oikawa's pretty face isn't getting anywhere close to his old, wrinkly self. That's disgusting. "Well, duh. Although I'd question the beauty of some people who happened to get a name --" and he looks at the boy in the red jacket again, currently touching up on his butt as if he's trying to hold something there. What a weirdo.

He notices the sword attached to the man's side, as well as his traditional clothing -- but it is a cruise, and maybe he's a performer? Oikawa doesn't even bother questioning it; rather, he reaches to stay the man's hand, as even if that thing is a prop, it's better not to take it out. There's a grandma sitting near them, staring intently at a biscuit -- what if he accidentally cuts or hits her?

"It's not my name, either. I'm Oikawa Tooru," and he raises his hand, offering 'Red Oyster' a peace sign. "And I'm definitely not doing this. Come on, we need to find a way to escape before that big guy gets us," he's pretty sure he's seen Kuroo somewhere around, but where did he go? At any rate, Oikawa doesn't plan on sticking around -- instead, he ducks into the crowd, expecting the other to follow. But --

"Huh --?"

On the center of the deck stands a cage with a really, really angry rooster in it. The man named Rick crouches by it, as if threatening to open the door.

"This beast can eat a man's entire leg in one swallow. Whoever survives this assault... gets a date with Flavor Flav!"

And he opens the cage. Great.

*bends over seductively to pick up tic tac*

”If your orders are anything like Kuro-chan, kill that spider, I’ve already been practicing,” he remarks, "—but if they’re anything like Kuro-chan, stop texting me at 4AM, you know what my answer already is.” Really, there’s no point in texting Oikawa at such an absurd hour — but with a sleep cycle as irregular as his, the nights are boring, and dull, and maybe he’s grown as fond of the 4:02AM “FUCK OFF” texts as much as he’s grown fond of the boy behind them, and he looks up, catching the way that Oikawa’s darker gaze rests somewhere beneath his feet; it leaves him feeling some sort of warm and fuzzy and embarrassed inside, and he decides that it’s not a terrible feeling altogether.

"Ah, right, right. Your precious face and irresistible charms — I’m glad you stayed in, then.” Even though he’s well-aware that Oikawa’s current exaggerations are to the point where it makes him want to turn aside and laugh — which the other would take offense to, no doubt — he barely manages to maintain a straight face, allowing small snickers to escape the corners of his mouth. "Though, do you think I’d just let you disappear, like that?" Lifting a hand, he lightly pinches the side of Oikawa’s cheek, tugging gently; meets his eyes for a heartbeat longer than necessary. "You’re not the kind of person that I want to lose easily."

Allowing himself to be pulled closer, he rests his hands against Oikawa’s waist; lets out a low, delighted purring sound when the other boy’s lips come to rest on his nose (it tickles, primarily — that, and the fact that he likes the attention so much, specifically from him). "You’d be surprised, actually, at what I know." Tipping his head up, and to the side, he manages to meet Oikawa’s lips with his own; smirks, against him, backing away a heartbeat later. "Ah, well — it’s not like I’m going to make a numbered list of everything — it’d be faster to show you, don’t you think? So while we’re here, did you, uh… want to… Well! Are you free, today?"

#STP KUROO'S SO CUT #E #it took me like 354 days to figure out how to reply #how 2 romance we just dont kno #me cryin #im so weak for these nerds #kuroo: o8.#lixorei

He's about to start complaining, but, really, it's not as if anything he says will change Kuroo's mind -- he's been texting him at ridiculous hours for a few months, now, and it doesn't seem like he's ever going to stop. Oikawa's an early riser, sure -- but sleeping till 6 am sure does trump sleeping till 4 am. For Kuroo's sake, though, he's willing to endure; even if most of the things he texts the other boy back consist of swearing, angry emojis and constant pleas for Kuroo to go away (secretly, he's glad that he doesn't.)

"You know, my fans can be pretty vicious," he adds, after a moment, noticing the way Kuroo's holding in his laughter (it's been a little too long for Oikawa not to notice all the small things Kuroo does -- but especially the way he smiles, sly and genuine all at once.) "Ah," he can feel the warmth rising to his cheeks, suddenly embarrassed again; those are pretty simple words, but considering the situation they're in, Oikawa's sudden shyness feels almost justified. He's never done this before, really -- dating all these girls interested in him only out of shallow attraction felt completely different than this.

In a way, Kuroo's his first.

"Oh, really? I'll leave it to you, then," he returns the brief kiss with a small grin, tipping his head to the side. It's Oikawa who's been on countless of dates -- in the end, his knowledge of what to do is probably more extensive (still, he thinks it'd be nice to be taken out, for once.) "Sure, it's not like I've got work, or -- anything to do around here, really. I didn't -- make any plans for this, either. I've only thought it out till the card part," he admits, after a second, huffing quietly. It was a spur of the moment decision -- if he didn't do it as soon as it popped up in his head, he wouldn't do it at all.

"Anyway, I'm sure there's a lot of places we can go here. It's a pretty big yacht," nodding, he reaches to grab Kuroo's hand; intertwines their fingers together, smiling. "Anything in particular you feel like doing? Eating? Drinking?"

ok but a lot of my friends tell me that i look like beyonce

It's a day like every other, at least on the cruise -- he's currently chilling on the deck, enjoying the breeze and staying, comfortably, somewhere among the crowds. It's only when someone starts causing a ruckus does he turn -- and what he sees is... well. A middle-aged, black man, in a very eccentric clothing, followed by his bodyguard (who, in other news, must be at least 7 feet tall.) He's screaming something, clearly causing an uproar -- when Oikawa gets a little closer to listen to his words, all that comes out of his mouth is:

"FLAVOR FLAAAAAAAAAAAAV!"

Strange enough, but he supposes it's not as odd -- considering how rich the guy seems to be, his eccentricity is mostly understandable. Oikawa has met a lot of weirdos in the business already; what's one more? Still, the guy seems to be running around now, randomly choosing people and pinning small etiquettes to their chests. Soon enough, he turns towards Oikawa, too, who, in his shock, doesn't move fast enough to run. As the man reaches for him, a piece of paper is stuck to his shirt -- when he looks down, 'Hottie' is written on it.

"That's gonna be my nickname for ya, cause I don't remember people's names!" The guy proclaims, turning towards a tall man with long hair and placing a 'Red Oyster' label on his clothing. Soon afterwards, he runs towards the highest point of the deck, spreading his arms in an annoucement:

"Congrats, yo! You've all been chosen to be a part of this year's edition of 'Flavor of Love'! I'm FLAVOR FLAAAAAAV and you're all gonna be competing for my heart!"

Confused, he turns towards the guy labeled as 'Red Oyster', noticing that he looks positively tired.

"Do you know what's going on? Who's this weirdo?"

#kanesexy #IUM LAUGHIG NSO HARD #I HATE THSI #kanesada: o1.

*bends over seductively to pick up tic tac*

When Oikawa invites him to the upper deck, it doesn’t take him long to get there, dressed simply (flip-flops are a must); ends up figuring that the other boy probably wants him to tag along to some sort of activity he’s found. Kuroo finds himself with a card in his hands, with the word ‘Congratulations' printed across its cover. He holds it delicately between his fingers (the cover has that new sheen to it; the gloss catches his eye), but he hesitates after that, glancing at Oikawa silently, as if demanding some sort of reason behind the occasion. But a few seconds of that gets him nowhere — it’d be quicker to just open it, rather than try to pry an explanation out of Oikawa; the former of which, he does.

"This is— Ah.” Upon reading the contents, eyebrows lift, moderately amused at what he finds; the back of his head tells him that this is Oikawa’s way of answering the age-old question of what are we?. It breaks his smooth composure instantly, but the change isn’t all too visible — a rare, appreciative expression forming across the lower half of his face — with the corners of his lips upturned and his cheeks a slight shade darker; the remainder of it hides behind the card that he’s quickly pressed against his mouth — a nonverbal way of saying don’t look at me, please don’t, it’s embarrassing.

"Was I dating you? Wow, I wasn’t aware… Looks like the Grand King’s too used to giving orders.” When he manages to recover from feeling like anything but a grade-schooler, his hand moves to rest on his hip, the corner of the card now held between his fingertips. His answer is obvious — put trivially, he wouldn’t mind killing spiders for Oikawa for the rest of his days. However, he returns the favor of indirectness — lets out a long sigh, with a, "This is cute, and all, but……”

What follow next is silence, as he walks a few steps forward, positioning his hand in front of Oikawa’s forehead, before giving it a sharp flick — continuing, softly (and this time, there’s no need to hide how content that this whole situation makes him): "You missed Valentine’s Day, stupid. Now we’re going to have to wait a whole new year to do cute shit… I guess, if you’re into that.”

#kuroo: o8.#lixorei #OK DONT EXAGGERATE IT HASNT BEEN 5 THOUSAND YEARS #MAYBE LIKE 3 THOUSAND #AT MOST

"No, idiot, you weren't, but now you are. Congratulations," he snickers, mimicking Kuroo's amusement with his own. Sure, it's an unconventional way to break the awkwardness -- but he's never been known for handling things the simple way, and, from the looks of it, Kuroo's more than okay with this odd solution (enough to get embarrassed by it, anyway.) His gaze wanders up; catches the pink tint on the other's cheeks, and a brief smile, now hidden behind the glossy card. It's enough of a hint to figure out the answer -- and he grins, almost shyly, glancing away instead.

"Then, I guess Kuro-chan will have to get used to obeying them, huh?" Truth be told, being demanding just about covers his own embarrassment -- he's definitely not used to giving orders, except on the court (anywhere else, no one would ever listen.) For the sake of the conversation, though, he tips his head up proudly; regrets it when Kuroo's fingers connect with his forehead, a short, sharp hiss slipping past his lips.

He pouts, too -- obviously. "I was busy, okay? You try going out on Valentine's day with this kind of a face," and he points at his own cheeks, his expression practically screaming 'duh.' "I would've gotten ambushed on my way there, and what then? You'd never see me again! You should be grateful I stayed put."

This might or might not be an exaggeration -- nevertheless, he reaches out to curve his fingers in the hem of Kuroo's shirt, tugging him a little closer. "Don't worry, Kuro-chan -- everything I do is cute, so we definitely don't have to wait a year," and with that said, he wraps his arms around Kuroo's neck, leaning forward to press his lips to the tip of the other boy's nose. "Besides, do you even know any cute things couples do?"

*bends over seductively to pick up tic tac*

It's aready well-past Valentine's day (why hasn't he done this earlier, no one knows -- his reasons shall remain a mystery, for the time being) when he decides to pay Kuroo a visit. Somehow, they're both on the cruise -- but then again, who isn't? It seems like almost the entire city decided to take this trip to the feels town and discard their daily, monotone lives, if only for a few days.

The situation with Kuroo has been... well, odd. Oikawa's a big fan of drama, and all things complicated (not to mention, 'dating' is such an ugly word) -- but not necessarily when it directly involves him. His last experience, as far as dating goes, ended up in a total flop -- he'd even got slapped, if he recalls correctly, but at this point, the girl's face is merely a blur in his head. That's not the point, though -- the point is, it wasn't pleasant, not successful, nor left him with any sort of desire for repeats.

And yet, there he is, standing in front of Kuroo with his hands outstreched. Between the slim fingers, a card -- no gifts, no grandeur, a simple piece of paper with colorful 'congratulations' written on it. This was the simplest way to solve this problem, he'd decided; asking Kuroo out in any other way would be too embarrassing (truth be told, he wasn't even expecting himself to be the one to break the silence, but things have gotten way too awkward for his liking.)

Inside, the card reads:

Happy new boyfriend.

#lixorei #kuroo: o8.#I THINK #PROBABLY #5 years later it is done

yu-c-c

待ってます | ALO

id=47582093

#passeur.

noireko-blog

sorry, nothing personal, but i am good looking,

noireko-blog

He’s primarily keen on the food — knows, from their usual routine, that at least half of the shopping bags are filled to the brim with a variety of cat food products. (Their taste-testing days are long over; Jisoo has confidence, now, that Oikawa picks out the brands that he’s expressed approval of.) Nosing some of the products that he sees in the bag, he recoils sharply, when his nose bumps against a plastic exterior — closer inspection reveals it to be a shampoo bottle, his whiskers instantly twitching in displeasure.

At the suggestion of skipped showers, he instantly freezes beneath Oikawa’s hand, the fur at the back of his neck bristling, apprehensively; stares at him with caution (tinged with guilt), caught in the brief, fight-or-flight moment of we both know the answer to that question. It still doesn’t make sense to him, why humans are so insistent on showering daily (and sometimes twice per day, if necessary); doesn’t understand why humans even have tongues in the first place, if not to lick themselves clean. Pushing a hind leg behind him, Jisoo makes the first move, backing up slowly; then, a few more steps to follow — but, he doesn’t bolt fast enough.

Despite his attempts to skirt away, he finds the ground getting farther away from his line of vision, and he yowls, wriggling furiously and waving his paws in the air in a last-ditch plea for help (to the air, possibly, smacking Oikawa by accident a few times). But, Jisoo isn’t entirely uncomfortable in Oikawa’s gentle grip, dangling his forepaws idly over the boy’s hand. (Even without much direct pet experience, Oikawa’s surprisingly good at carrying him from place to place; who would have thought? Plus, the warmth that Oikawa’s hand provides, his palm pressing lightly against the white fur of Jisoo’s stomach, isn’t the most undesirable thing in the world; or, even undesirable at all.)

Nonetheless, he produces a sad, plaintive meow, knowing all too well what Oikawa has in store for him. (They go through this every few weeks or so; it has to do with that pesky human cleanliness factor that Jisoo still can’t wrap his head around.) Even with the offer of food, his ears flatten; even with how he’d practically sell his soul for food and food alone, none of that changes how bothersome baths are, to endure, and for the remainder of the journey — from living room to bathroom — he lets himself go limp, letting out tiny whines.

When the other finally cracks open the bathroom door, Jisoo instantly dashes down from his arms and atop of the bathroom rug — the only warm spot in a tile-floored room, where everything seemed to be made of metal and glass; tucking his paws beneath his form, he tilts his head towards the bathtub, then back up at Oikawa, as if saying, do you really want me to hop in, when it’s cold?

#no its a perfect word #:/// slaps a psd on u... mine now #dkfjskjf loRD #noireko #jisoo: o1.

He fully expects the small amount of a fight that Jisoo puts up -- it happens every time Oikawa suggests a bath, and he's used to it, more or less (well, that's a lie, because he'll never get used to getting scratches on his face, but still.) Since it's Jisoo, though, he doesn't mind nearly as much -- the wounds end up shallow, anyway, and they heal almost immediately (to say he's had worse would be a severe understatement -- Jisoo never really aims to hurt him in the first place, so Oikawa ends up avoiding most of the serious scratching either way.)

Once they're in the bathroom, he makes sure to close the door after himself -- which seems pointless, considering Jisoo can turn human anytime, but still -- and lets the other jump down from his arms, glancing at the cat now seated on the small rug in the middle of the room. "Don't worry, I'm not going to make you jump in a cold bathtub," he assures, briefly, noticing the way Jisoo tilts his head, almost in confusion. True to his words, right after setting the bags down, he heads to turn the water on -- makes it warm, but not too hot. Jisoo isn't particularly big in his cat form (unlike his human one), so a few inches is enough -- after that, he moves over to pick him up again, as gingerly as he can.

Over the few weeks of knowing each other, he'd learned how to make this as painless as possible -- clumsy at first, now, his movements are steady but gentle: he knows the easiest, quickest way of getting this over with, considering how much Jisoo hates bathing (why, Oikawa can't fathom, but then again, he supposes it's in his nature to loathe water.) He massages the shampoo into the other's fur gently, rinses it with water, then repeats -- a few times, to make sure all the dirt is gone. Once that's done (regardless of how fast it takes, he usually still ends up with a few scratches on his hands), he picks the cat back up, setting him on the dry rug and reaching for a towel.

Jisoo's fur isn't particularly long, so drying doesn't take a whole lot of rubbing -- and, once Oikawa's sure he's dry enough, he leans back a little, staring at the slightly damp cat in front of him thoughtfully. "See? It went just fine -- and now you're clean and pretty, unlike... uh, turtles," for example. "And every kitty lady will want you, or something." Clearly, there's not much you can say to a cat -- but he doesn't linger on the floor for too long, instead getting up to open the door for Jisoo.

"Anyway, now that's done, let's get you something to eat, yeah? Are you going to eat in your cat form, or human form? I need to know what to take out --" he has a bowl reserved just for Jisoo, but a plate is fine, too (even though watching someone eat cat food is a strange experience -- not as much when it's a person with cat ears, but still.)

dancing-on-stars

손풀기용 오이카와 by @Kurooxmore permission to post given by the artist

#passeur.

(ฅ^•ﻌ•^)ฅ CAT DADDY ฅ(^•ﻌ•^ฅ)

"Yeah, but on a girl as skilled as you? I don’t think so.” Briefly, Kuroo goes along with Oikawa’s charade, smiling when Oikawa abandons it as quickly as he’d brought it up — he didn’t think Oikawa would go far with it for long, anyway. His attention is briefly redirected to the stereo system, where the other boy begins setting a playlist (when it begins playing, he likes it; Oikawa has just as good of a taste in music as in fashion, apparently).

A few seconds pass, with him returning Oikawa’s thoughtful gaze, and when Oikawa prompts him to get up, he does, allowing himself to be pulled to a nearby chair, instead. (To be honest, he likes the couch a whole lot better, but the chair isn’t that uncomfortable, and considering the weight of his request, it’s only fair to comply.) Nonetheless, before Oikawa lets go of his hand, Kuroo gives it a small tug, pulling it towards him, forcing him to have to yank his wrist from Kuroo’s grasp.

"It’s my birthday — I deserve this, don’t you think?” Looking up, he matches Oikawa’s grin with a smirk of his own; hisses, as nails scrape lightly against his skin, but it’s not a bad feeling — it sends a light shudder down his spine. "Plus… don’t act like you’re totally not into it, either,” he practically purrs; relaxes against the back of the chair, to watch Oikawa instead, observing the way he sways back and forth — almost as if he’s experienced, almost as if he knows what he’s doing.

Oikawa’s fingers through his hair immediately drag out a soft sound, from between his lips — it’s almost an instinctive reaction, and before he knows it, he finds himself leaning towards his touch, muttering something inaudible, incoherent; whines, a bit, when Oikawa rolls his hips. "Mm, I thought you’d be good at this, but you’re way better than I thought you’d be.” Pausing, he takes a moment to crane his neck forward, grinning widely, in the narrow space between them. ”Impressive.”

#lixorei #kuroo: o7.#GOD #IM HAVIGN A HARD TIME #pls @lord cleanse me

He laughs at that, but doesn't bother denying it -- if the request didn't pique his interest in the first place, he simply would've refused (plus, now that he's actually doing it, he finds it enjoyable enough.) It's easy to fall into a certain rhythm, and he's already well familiar with coordination -- the rest is instinctive, but judging by the praises Kuroo exhales breathlessly, he's doing a good job (which proves to be a relief, in its own way -- considering this is supposed to be his birthday gift.)

"Gee, thanks," in return, he offers the other a small grin; leans forward to press his forehead against Kuroo's, as the taller boy cranes his neck. "Instead of talking, weren't you going to show me what you think, though?" He's perfectly aware that, technically, the recipient shouldn't be allowed to touch the dancer; but they're not in a club, and privately, none of that really matters. Because of that, he steps past certain boundaries as well; runs his fingers through Kuroo's hair, then down his neck, to finally let his hands settle on the other's shoulders.

Despite the small distractions, he never really stops moving -- circles his hips along to the beat of the song, shifting his weight down and against Kuroo. And, as the music slows down, Oikawa doesn't feel particularly inclined to do anything complicated, anymore; settles comfortably in the other boy's lap, pressing himself against him tightly, movements languid and leisure.

It makes for a good ending, considering the song fades out completely mere moments later -- but, when another one starts, Oikawa doesn't bother picking up the pace; leans forward to press his lips against Kuroo's, instead. This time, he makes sure to be through; slides his tongue over the other's lips, then past them completely, one hand wandering up to cup Kuroo's cheek. He only stops when the air in his lungs threatens to run out; flushed and breathless, he doesn't lean away just yet, his lips curving in a small smile. "Happy birthday, Kuro-chan."

(ฅ^•ﻌ•^)ฅ CAT DADDY ฅ(^•ﻌ•^ฅ)

"Shut up." Though, he knows it’s something that Oikawa won’t ever let go of, regardless of the circumstances at the time. And by now, it’s grown into something harmless, something he usually waves off; in the end, he chooses not to say anything else about it, mild annoyance written clearly across his features. "A… slut.” The word rolls off of his tongue with emphasis, almost as if he’s used to it — as if it were a common phrase, really, and he crosses his arms, predicting Oikawa’s next, usual protest. "Do you want me to carry you off to bed, too? Mister only-call-me-names-in-bed?”

Instinctively, he backs away a bit, when Oikawa looms closer, his fingers curling idly into the empty space in the air between them; but, he’s quick enough to try to turn it around, leaning forward until he’s less than an inch away and he can taste the mint in Oikawa’s breath; practically murmurs his words against his lips. "Oh, am I? Sorry — forgot to tell you, in between the times we’ve, you know, fucked.” His voice dips down, lowly; injects fake offense into his tone, suddenly soft. "I’m hurt; I thought you knew me better than that.”

Nonetheless, it’s just like Oikawa, to have kept something like that on-hand (granted, he’d also kept the thigh highs from earlier — at this point, Kuroo ends up assuming that whatever he can name off, Oikawa has, somewhere in his room-sized closet). As Oikawa dashes off, ever so determinedly, he leans back to wait, but soon enough (with a bit of delay; he looks up and instantly sees why), the other boy appears from the hallway — wearing far more than what Kuroo had envisioned.

He takes the sight in slowly — allows his gaze to wander; over the sweater, lingering on the uncovered space between the ends of his skirt and the edges of his thigh highs — notes how snugly that the thin fabric hugs his legs. His tongue runs over his lips deliberately, expressing his appreciation through a low, incoherent murmur; thinks about how he’d like to push his skirt up his waist — but, that’s for another time. "That’s more than okay,” he settles for responding, and his smile is above merely pleased, as he lifts his hand; makes a crude, beckoning gesture, tapping his leg with his hand. "Come here, then. I’ll show you what I think — if you do it right, of course.”

#lixorei #kuroo: o7.#PLSEA #IM IN A DEEP STATE OF SUFFERIGN #IDK WHAT IM DOING #PSKFJGHHFF #I #GOODBYE

Kuroo's reaction brings a small, satisfied grin to Oikawa's face; he knows he looks good -- asks just for the sake of stroking his own ego, really, but it's a nice feeling regardless. "'Do it right'? That's a lot of pressure to put on a girl, isn't it, Kuro-chan?" He can only keep the innocent facade up for a second before he snickers, amusedly, heading towards the stereo system first. Instantly, he sets all of the cheesy, sensual songs aside; picks something with a heavy bassline and clear tempo instead, not too fast but not too slow, either. Only after he's satisfied with the playlist does he return to Kuroo, standing in front of him with a thoughtful expression.

"Hmm... nope, this won't do. Come on, Tetsu-chan, up," leaning down, he reaches to grab Kuroo's hand gently; laces their fingers together, and tugs on his arm, waiting for the other to get up on his own. When he does, Oikawa leads him to a chair, standing a little further away from the couch and the table -- figures he'll need the extra space, pushing the flat of his palm against Kuroo's chest to make him sit. Before he lets go, he waits a moment to make sure Kuroo's comfortably seated; and, as the song changes, Oikawa finally moves, standing behind the other boy instead.

"You know, I still can't believe you asked me to do this," he mutters, grinning, both hands now rested on Kuroo's shoulders. As the intro of the song rolls by, he slides them down; scrapes his nails over the defined lines of muscle, purring against Kuroo's ear contentedly. In the meantime, he starts moving along with the music; gets used to the slightly irregular rhythm, slipping the tips of his fingers beneath Kuroo's waistband just to pull away mere seconds later.

Moving over to Kuroo's side, he halts, for a moment, letting the sweater slide down his shoulders slowly; it's too warm to keep it on, anyway, and he discards it without a second thought (it's a little too restricting, in the long run.) Once the material's bundled up on the floor, he walks over to the front instead, placing his palms on Kuroo's knees; sways his hips with effortless grace, down and then further, until he's almost kneeling between Kuroo's legs. Constantly in motion, he only allows him this view for a few seconds before moving back up -- slips his hands up, too, sliding them over Kuroo's thighs, chest, neck, to eventually tangle his fingers in his hair, as he moves closer to settle in the other's lap, rolling his hips once -- slowly.

(ฅ^•ﻌ•^)ฅ CAT DADDY ฅ(^•ﻌ•^ฅ)

It’s almost instinctive, the way that he grins against Oikawa’s lips; the way that the corners of his mouth turn upwards in sheer delight, as he leans forward, almost too eagerly — the kiss isn’t his main focus, though, as of the moment; there’s something else on his mind. Just as Oikawa pulls away, Kuroo manages to reach out in time — squishes Oikawa’s face lightly. And it’s only then, that Kuroo takes full advantage of the brief delay in reaction time and tugs on the other’s cheeks with a laugh, pinching them, ever so gently.

He lets them go soon enough, however, meeting Oikawa’s underhanded comment with a confused frown; half from registering the insult, and half from wondering what actually seems wrong, to Oikawa, about spending a week or so, doing just that. While the obvious exaggeration goes noted, "The same goes for you — are you saying that one or two things at a time is all that you can handle? “ His voice rings, with faux disappointment, pulling an insincerely crestfallen expression. "I thought you were a…”

"Did you expect anything better?” He likes to consider himself relatively simple, when it comes to material desires (and what does manage to catch his eye, he tends to occasionally fund with Oikawa’s money already, so asking for it wouldn’t change much). When Oikawa glances down, so does Kuroo; assesses the outfit that he currently has on, and even though it’s a shirt and a pair of pants, down to something that strains even Oikawa’s fashion sense (then again, they’re home clothes; Kuroo can’t judge, considering that his own home clothes are also his everyday clothes.) "Yeah, go change— But, by any chance… if you happen to have a skirt, or something… It… well… You know… Let’s just say: it wouldn’t be a bad choice.”