#nekozumae

[kiyuomi]

@nekozumae​  –  starter  call.

 ❝  why  do  you  play?  ❞  the  words  tumbled  from  crimson  tiers  before  he  even  had  a  process  to  realise  what  they  were,  and  yet  his  physique  remained  unmoving,  unfazed  by  his  own  unusual  spout  of  verbal  valour.  had  komori  not  been  distracted,  he’s  sure  his  cranium  would  have  had  a  swift  whack  delivered  to  it  by  now.

 if  the  question  had  been  posed  from  the  depths  of  anyone  else’s  voice  box,  perhaps  it  would  have  been  interpreted  as  a  jab  –  an  unspoken  notion  of  ‘  why  do  you  even  bother  ?  ‘  –  but  as  tenebris–ridden  hues  scrutinised  the  fellow  tokyo  player  and  remembered  his  distaste  for  people  who  don’t  even  try,  kiyoomi  began  to  tread  the  borderline  of  interest.  kiyoomi  may  have  wondered  if  he  had  a  similar  reason  to  his  own.

 ❝  it’s  not  like  you’re  particularly  advanced  beyond  intelligence,  and  you  don’t  look  like  you’re  enjoying  yourself,  either.  so,  why?  ❞

[kiyuomi]

@nekozumae​  said  :  ❛❛ here, we can match. ❜❜ matching spirited away t-shirts for his acquaintance (translation: bestie) !!!!!!

 ❝  oh.  ❞

 in  theory,  matching  t–shirts  were  kind  of  weird  –  it  seemed  unnecessary,  in  most  circumstances.  komori  used  to  insist  on  them,  too.  sakusa  can  understand  it  in  volleyball  and  team–based  activities  –  for  practical  purposes,  sure,  but  in  any  other  instance  where  it’s  not  even  required,  it  can  just  be  uncanny.

 so  why,  with  said  matching  garment  now  in  his  grasp,  and  the  slightest  crevice  adorning  the  dermis  between  two  furrowed  eyebrows,  was  he  actually  quite  endeared?  

 gah,  he  was  never  very  good  at  gifts,  even  if  they  were  casual.  his  distaste  for  benefactions  that  have  been  god–knows–where  and  with  god–knows–who  was  a  whole  other  bone  of  contention.  that  wasn’t  the  issue  here,  though.  continuous  movie  nights  would  not  have  occurred  if  he  didn’t  trust  the  faux  blonde’s  hygiene,  after  all.

 the  pad  of  a  thumb  feathered  against  the  fabric,  and  his  shoulders  deflated. it  was  nice.  thoughtful.

 and,  one  thing’s  for  sure  –  he  really  liked  spirited  away.  

 ❝  .  .  .  thank  you,  kenma–kun,  ❞  translation  :  bestie,  ❝  we  should  .  .  .  we  should  watch  the  cat  returns,  next.  ❞

≪  INBOX  –  always  accepting.  ≫

[obstrcts]

                         FATE  LOOKS  LIKE  THIS:                     it’s  dreadful,     it’s  crude,     almost  foolishly  so.     it’s  a  crowded  hillside  at  high  noon,     cramped  and  loud,     brimming  with  uncivilized  mundane  conversation.     it’s  annoying,     like  the  lingering  soreness  of  a  healing  bruise.     (     keep  touching  it!     doesn’t  make  it  hurt  any  less,     dummy!      )     it  feels  like  this:     it’s  the  pin-prick  of  pain  behind  kei’s  glasses,     something  that  only  gets  worse  when  he  realizes  that  he  has  to  resign  himself  to  the  cruel  and  unusual  consequences  of  coping  with  his  continuously  nagging  senpais.     (     WE  DID  THIS  FOR  YOU!     yeah,  the  devil  would  say  the  same  thing,  wouldn’t  he?     )

                        '     I  SURE  HOPE  THIS  ENDS  SOON.     '                     oh,     to  wish  for  something  so  astoundingly  out  of  reach    ──    you  must  really  live  in  a  fantasy  land,     tsukishima!     he  can  pretend  to  hold  onto  the  last  parts  of  his  dignity  by  hiding,     pretending  that  his  very  existence  is  nothing  more  than  a  piece  of  the  tree  he’s  situated  under.       (     take  a  bet!     how  long  do  you  think  before  kuroo-san’s  bounding  up  to  bother  him  out  of  his  wits?     )     there’s no way to distract himself,,     other  than  to  latch  on  to  the  game  console  in  his  hand  and  to  acknowledge  the  only  existence  that  doesn’t  make  him  contemplate  changing  his  own  identity  in  every  conversation.       he  doesn’t  even  have  look  up  to  address  kenma,     focus  and  determination  the  only  thing  set  on  his  face  that  doesn’t  give  away  the  growing  irritation  of  the  situation  around  them.     is  life  testing  his  patience?      ‘    what’s  your  turnip  prices?  i  need  to  sell  mine.     ‘                      ─────       @nekozumae​    ❥    !

[tasaina]

@nekozumae​ / starter call

“DINOSAUR SHAPED CHICKEN NUGGETS ARE THE SUPERIOR NUGGIES. i stand by this. i’ll die for this.”

[kunekos]

❛❛ you’re. . . not supposed to be here . . . . . . ❜❜ // ROYALTY AU ROYALTY AU ROYALTY AU

           ❛   I am not. And from what I know, y'also have other places to be at... none’a them include this garden.   ❜     the tone lingering in Kuroo's tongue is sour ; perhaps a bit more unrelenting than it should... but it doesn't serve as a reason to stop him from getting closer to the foreigner monarch.

          he, too, feels irritated. feels immensely frustrated towards the responsibility they have ahead & the fact that they've been robbed of the chance to speak for themselves. to pick their own path towards the future & do as they very well please with their lives... but there's so much at risk. & there's so much they ought to do together to protect their people. to shelter   ( as well as unify, through the growing kinship of their bond )   their Kingdoms & grant peaceful lives to every single person who looks up to them with respect & admiration. both of them have been taught these doctrines since birth : do what they must. stand for their people with their lives & this, in the end, is what their devotion brought them to.

          followed by a heavy sigh that parts from deep within Kuroo's chest, the boy advances & ends up taking a seat beside his fiancé. suddenly, his throat turns dry at the thought & he finds himself frowning at it. fiancé. Gods... just two days ago he'd been bragging about how free he felt leading the military & gloating over how proud he feels of his every step forward in his studies. every book grants him more knowledge. every page brings him one step closer to a greater, wider view of where they're to be headed. what the future holds. & now... it all seems so far away. with evident distaste upon his features, — which is only faintly visible due to the bright lights from the spirited ballroom, cast over the pair as they stand outside in the garden  —, Kuroo finds himself trapped.

          trapped between accepting that he's going to spend the rest of his life caged with someone he just barely knows & refusing to engage in the mission he's been conceded with by his parents.   ( this one is not going to be easy ... )   golden irises end up wandering to the side, & for the first time since they've met, only two days ago, the prince allows himself to look at the other. acknowledge his presence. note every single detail he presents himself with : from the dark roots of his hair to the piercing expression in his eyes. he’s pretty. very much so.

          thin lips purse forcefully against each other as he beings to ponder about something to say —   something to do. aha !     ❛   Did ya know that if ya pour a handful'a salt into a glass of water... the water level will, actually, go down ?   ❜

𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝  //  always accepting.     ☆