#notiwachan

[shxnrai--archive-blog]

notiwachan replied to your post:Mamaaan Papaaan! Mii missed you muuuuch! axstere...

*pats Mii’s head* There, there.

Happy lioness nuzzling

Papaaan! I am so happy seeing you and maman onliiine!

[swansets-archive-blog]

♡ (I am genuinely curious :'D)

Send a ♡ to hear how my character would tell your character that they loved them without actually using the word “love.”

Loving him is red.

  A monochromatic painting canvased in the depths of his heart, a feeling indescribable yet attainable, all contained within the same brushstroke.   But that’s the thing about creativity – one isn’t able to channel those feelings without a muse, a source of inspiration. Oikawa is an artist that loves easily &. freely - &. it scares him. It feels blue, a melancholic colour that blends together with love to make a ( sickening ) purple.

  It’s disgusting.

  It’s awful &. purple &. green &. all kinds of appalling colours that mash instead of blend, that push each other away instead of complement each other &. –   It scares him, he muses, this shade of red. The colour of love but also the colour of slumber induced by tears, the colour of calloused fingers and bruised hearts, the colour that can so easily become something else entirely.

  He reminds himself that red is also the colour of love. Of hope, of slumber induced by hushed whispers under those glow-in-the-dark stars that he plastered on his ceiling years ago, of sweet nothings murmured and light gasps under the blanket, of being near him.

  Red is what he feels when he places a coy hand on Iwaizumi’s face, fingers tracing intangibles unto the other’s back.   Red is what he feels when he kisses him.

[kyokenchan-a]

"I want the K." (*wiggles eyebrows*)

Send ‘I want the K’ and I’ll generate a number                         5. Lips

Wow, he was nervous.

It was a dare really, by one of the team mates, and he had had to draw a stick which then determined who he was going to kiss. To be honest, he would have been okay with Oikawa. Because Oikawa could be.. disgusting, so it wouldn’t have counted as anything.

But Iwaizumi.

Wow.

Now that was something completely else. It wasn’t a secret that he admired him, nor that he might harbour a crush either. So this was just mean, and horrible, and he was pretty sure he’d go beat up anyone who came up with this stupid game in the first place. 

Kyoutani’s hands were sweating, his eartips burning a little from the blush that threatened to sneak down from there. Kyoutani grumbled curses as he made his way to Iwaizumi, who just happened to look busy. Kyoken looked back, did he really have to do this? Apparently yes, by the grins and encouraging gestures. 

…He’ll kill them first, then the one who came up with the game. 

Tugging awkwardly on his senpai’s jersey, he tried to not fidget too much, or blush anymore than he already did. Kyoutani looked up from under his brows real quick, staring then at his hand that was holding the shirt he had tugged on. Yeah, he had Iwaizumi’s attention now for sure. 

Taking a deep breath and ignoring how his cheeks burned, Kyoutani snapped his head up. Due to the very small height difference he didn’t need to adjust too much.

To his own surprise, even tho he was being hasty, he did manage to be more gentle, not crushing their lips together so their teeth would hurt. He had done that a few times, when he practiced… with someone ( let’s not go into that ), and had been told to be more gentle with the approach.

So he was. 

His tongue was the first thing to touch the ace’s lips, the impact force minimized, making the whole experience rather pleasant, but in it’s own way weird too. The contact was just but a few seconds, but that was enough to have Kyoutani stop breathing, and his face burn too much. He mumbled something that sounded like an apology, glaring hard at his friends who were howling like hyenas in the background.