PR's Tumblrdome
The Stonewall Inn
almost home
No title available
occasionally subtle
🪼
@theartofmadeline
Love Begins
Fai_Ryy
No title available
bliss lane
taylor price
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
sheepfilms
The Bowery Presents
h
EXPECTATIONS
★
Not today Justin
titsay
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Brazil
seen from Oman
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from Japan
seen from Morocco
seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from France
@tetsurosan-blog
with that, i’ll also be dropping from the group -- but i’m very much interested in keeping current threads going if people are interested! i suppose i’ll be making kuroo indie (until i app him elsewhere) as well as my other characters (dylan springbell, miyuki kazuya) i also have a multi muse account which you can contact me for! ( if you wana talk rp or anything im here @ twitter ! )
Send me a (´∇ﾉ｀*)ノ .`-;- if you'd like to make a pre-established relationship with my character!
‹ fukubrodani ⇄ tetsurosan ›
It takes about thirty minutes before she realizes the apartment is far too quiet for Ayato to still be home. No way in hell would she be able to study in peace were he in his room, wreaking havoc on god knows what - so he must be somewhere else. So… to that ridiculous party she goes, head down and brow already creased in irritation. Her lack of an ability to get anything done without fretting after him is tiresome, but she approaches two unbelievably tall guys (an entire foot on her, really?) by the entrance. Were those red solo cups? Great.
Folding her arms and putting on something of a nice face, Touka wedges herself between them and plays it off like an accident, lips pursed a little. “Sorry. I’m looking for my little brother… You wouldn’t happen to have seen anyone who looks like me – just a lot angrier, would you?”
He almost completely doesn't notice the girl at first, so completely immersed in whatever Bokuto talking about now. Chocolate milk always got him a little hyped up, though Kuroo begged him not to use the red cups for it. Whether or not the drink was mixed was beyond him (but if he were to go on the record, Bokuto probably wasn’t above it), but the two weren't completely sober.
“Ah? Little brother?” He squints a moment with thin cat eyes, before speaking over house music: “Nah, nothing rings a bell.”
“Yo, Bokuto! You seen any kid that looks like her but pissed? Wait, do you have a pen? Or a napkin? We could do wanted ads.”
Kuroo tapped a rhythm into the desk with his dull pencil, notebook filled with scribbles of his teachers earlier lecture turn rambles. It was safe to tune out now, the scrabbly old man listing off on assigned partners for the most recent assignment. The teen wasn’t too concerned, familiar with most faces in the classroom on a certain level. Once you got past his suspecting look and wild hair, most found Kuroo easy to get along with.
Of course, in the sea of familiars there was one face that wasn’t. Go figure he’d get paired with him--guess this was a good’a time as any.
Taking immediate initiative, Kuroo grabbed his notebook making his way over to his gloomy looking partner, plopping down in the seat in front. He sat backwards in the chair, sliding his book on the desk and grinned his usual cat-like smile.
“Well howdy, partner. Don’t think we've spoken much before, hm? I’m Kuroo. Pleasure's all yours, I’m sure.”
kaleidoscopexyes
If you think about it, weathermen may be the most untrustable fiends on the planet.
Or at least, that was Kuroo’s current thought process as he ran through the thick rain thrashing down onto him, pinching skin with each drop. The sunny skies he had anticipated disappeared the second the final school bell rang, his friends armed with umbrellas under the unrelenting weather, leaving the pitiful school boy to fend for himself.
In nothing but a drenched school uniform and a flimsy coat clutched over his head, Kuroo makes a desperate run to the nearest bus shelter.
“Oh.” After a few moments, he notices a fellow person stuck in the shelter.
“Nice weather we're having, huh.”
viosign
it’s about time i get posts up so here’s a small rp ad for minis (of varying length)! capping at 3 excluding cast mates!
MORE黒尾らくがき
♔ -- wet and wild
⊰◈⊱— This entire place was like a maze, really. Every hallway looked pretty much identical, maybe save for the people that would come and go from them. Hiroomi’s memory wasn’t terrible, but he did find himself to be forgetful sometimes, so maybe trying to commit the layout of this place would benefit him in the long run.
So he did just that, going from hallway to hallway, the only indication of the changing corridors were the numbers at the very beginning. Hiroomi looked from door to door, unpleasantly unsurprised by the lack of differences in all of them. It was all identical, almost to a tee, and it was just distasteful. At least have more.. something. Taste? Maybe.
“There’s a gym here too, right? And a kitchen.. a pool?” Hiroomi murmured to himself, listing off some things from memory— he couldn’t even tell if he was right.
And he should’ve been paying more attention to where he was going, because if he had, maybe he wouldn’t have walked into the wrong room. Without even looking at the numbers on the door.
But it’s not like the inside really gave him any indication he was in the wrong place either.
The only indication that he was in the wrong place was the sudden, entirely unexpected voice that pulled him from his thoughts. He’d only met his partner, and gotten glimpses of the other two residing in his “apartment”, and this definitely was not— “I..”
Hiroomi pauses, a sense of awkwardness creeping up on him for the first time a very, very long time. He fucked up.
“I think I may be in the wrong room.”
Kuroo had caught brief glimpses of his roommates, with empty conversations and gestures, quick introductions with minimal dialogue. Despite the small, and at this point rare, occurrences with his roommate, Nekoma's captain could always remember a face--this one was most definitely unfamiliar. The fellow male speaks to him hesitantly, his pale face reflecting the awkward atmosphere that threatens to spill.
A stiff laugh escapes him, a failing attempt at easing the silence falling between them.
In any case, Kuroo believes he would have recognized someone with such a bold sense of fashion (that scarf looked like it could cover him whole).
"Uh, yeah, that seems likely."
He rubs the back of his neck, skin still damp from his shower. Right, clothes. Kuroo resumes his search for clothes, now increasingly cold what with his wet, naked body. The captain locks eyes with the newcomer by mistake and doesn't stop the smirk that comes oh so naturally. "Feel free to stay for the gun show, though. If you're so inclined."
He laughs, heartily this time, patting the couch whilst keeping an eye out for at least a pair of boxers.
"Come on, get comfortable. I don't really mind. Unless this was your intention?" Kuroo's tone shows no hint of seriousness, but his expression turns sour, as if he'd been scandalized. "Well I never."
♔ set(o)
Time passed slowly in the constructed facility Kuroo could only know as prison, excruciatingly slow. In the early days he would sleep for hours, almost full days, as if refusing to acknowledge these new whereabouts he was forced into. It was a cowardly escape, he knew, but he was scared. Kuroo was just short of a man--he could remember playing volleyball with teammates and friends, eating food with his family--memories like those they seemed so distant now.
He couldn't sleep for eternity, however. By a weeks time, Kuroo--despite himself--had somehow gotten accustomed to the bizarre reality that was the facility. It wasn't a comfortable process, he'd assure you. Though the walls became more familiar, once warm memories began to seem colder. Allowing himself to forget would be the ultimate failure.
With a foggy mind, Nekoma's captain quickly makes his way to the gymnasium. If he can't practice amongst his friends, might as well keep his skills fresh.
It's not as satisfying without a partner, but the wall had to do.He tosses the ball, spiking it just enough for it to fly back to him.
The final spike back is a bit too powerful--he realizes this once it touches his hand. The ball bounces off the wall in an instant, whirling past an innocent head just entering the gym. Lucky miss.
Erk. "Oh, shit. You alright, there? My bad."
thievry
@vgmt_sue
"I’m not being hesitant, or scared… More like… Shocked? Surprised? Was not expecting that?" Just who would expect someone to come and take a bite of the cookie still in their hand like that? There was something about this guy who reminded him of someone he once knew before being tossed in here as well. "And please don’t call me Blondie… I have a name, yknow."
He laughs in response, scratching his neck with a strong hand. "Ah, well--you have a point. I don't think I was really expecting it either." It's not a lie, mostly--he didn't wake up with the goal to snatch a cookie with his mouth. More of a spur of the moment type of ordeal. Cats do rely on instinct, don't they? Or at least, probably.
"Well, alright not Blondie. What would that name be?"
"There’s no way someone can be this good at a game without having played it before. You’re lying.” He narrowed his eyes both in suspicion and to maximize his concentration on the game, fingers nimbly (but at the same time randomly) hitting every button available on the controller.
As the game over screen popped up once more, with the words You Lose written on his side of the screen, Suzaku groaned and placed his controller on the table before them, sighing. "That’s impossible— How did you even pull off that combo?"
"How cruel!" Kuroo puts on a face, as if astonished. "Does this look like the face of a liar?" The question is mostly rhetorical, though he's gotten a multitude of answers before, on many occasions. His thin, suspecting cat eyes combined with his (suspicious) knowing smile is a recipe for disaster, he supposed--he'd been called "shady-looking" more than enough times from friends as well as teammates.
Where was that always coming from? He was a nice guy, really.
The blocker can't stifle the chuckle that comes at the others frantic playing, nor can he stop it at his groan of defeat--this one was too easy to laugh at, it seemed. Poor guy. Perhaps he deserved a piece of advice after all...?
Kuroo puts on a face of mourning, as if recalling a painful memory before speaking. "The war was a rough one, truly. You learn a lot of things on the battlefield..."
♔ -- wet and wild
He finds his room silent and empty, white walls as well as furniture remain untouched. It’s spacious, and an all around elegant living environment so to speak, but the eeriness of it all weighs it down to a tonne. It’s cold.
The rooms are spotless to a tone, creepily so, as Kuroo inspects the rest of the apartment. Each room contains a minimal amount of furniture asides from the beds, a set of two for each bedroom. The odd simplicity adds to its lack of homeyness, he thinks, lying on one of the beds pressed against the wall. The mattress is hard and unwelcoming. It fits the theme well, he supposed.
He rubs the back of his neck as he removes himself from the squeaky bed. If he was going to be alone for the next while, he might as well clean up a bit.
It doesn’t take the teen long to find the shower, hot water runs and he finally exhales. The tension fades as the steam increases and Kuroo’s finally beginning to forget until—
The very obvious sound of an entry is made. Well, it’d be rude to not greet them, right?
The captain’s not completely indecent really, he grabs a towel to wrap around his waist as he steps out, ceasing the water from the shower and greeting his awaiting new companion.
"Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to get your attention." Kuroo smiles cheekily, passing the newcomer in his (slow) attempt to find clothes to change into after his cut short shower.
"I’m Kuroo—your...roommate?"
Eyes widened in surprise and stared at the male. "That… was not exactly what I meant." Ryouta handed him the whole cookie, "Well… Here you go… I suppose."
So, perhaps he didn't think this through. For one, the captain in question had anticipated a more...animated reaction, rather than the reluctant acceptance he'd gotten in return. Perhaps it was a little bold for a first meeting.Kuroo accepted the rest of the cookie with a grin--he could apologize and be on his way, or, go with it.
They didn't call him a provocation expert for nothing, he supposed.
"No need to be so hesitant, Blondie. Scared?"
☆ blank space
Oikawa isn’t sure how to react at first. Should he be amazed? Shocked? A mixture of both? To think that the two of them could appreciate the same enrapturing music by the goddess of pop herself (in his terms, anyway) is truly something that should be celebrated, especially when all this time he had thought that Kuroo’s taste, despite not knowing him, would be much more uncultured.
Of course, though, as much as he wants to continue pondering this, Taylor swift waits for no one, so he continues the song, meeting up where Nekoma’s captain left off willingly, taking his own not-hesitant-enough steps closer.
"I can read you like a magazine," he repeats from memory, edging forward without saying anything else besides the lyrics, "…Ain’t it funny? Rumors fly.. and I know you heard about me.”
The feeling was as euphoric as it was mutual, all the possibilities Kuroo never dared even dream about seemed so easy in this moment. If he were to be completely honest, the teen had always believed Oikawa wasn't much but a cocky setter. He'd seen matches and could always acknowledge his talent, but seeing his true colours in this instant, so similar to his own, well. He supposed T-Swift could bring the best out of anyone.
There's an eyebrow raise in response to Oikawa's gradual closeness, but no time to comment. Breaking the flow they had only seemed foolish at this point, so why question it? It didn't bother him much in reality, maybe he'd encourage it some.
"So hey, let's be friends. I'm dying to see how this one ends..."
"Grab your passport, and my hand..." He gestures with his hand as he recites the memorized lyrics, almost invitingly.
☆ blank space
He doesn’t know who’s playing the song, but he’s not complaining, either. It’s not exactly a secret to those close to him that the American artist’s music is a guilty pleasure of Oikawa’s, but he didn’t ever expect it to be someone else’s, too, let alone the guy walking in front of him.
"Magic, madness, heaven, sin…" He tacks on, eyes widening a bit once he realizes that this meeting must be fate. "Saw you there and I thought, ‘oh my god, look at that face…’"
Kuroo wonders if he's imagining it at first. It makes the most sense, and surely is the more reasonable explanation. To think, the captain, Seijou's Grand King could also be a fan....?
His thought process was that of a dangerous one. No one knew of his interest in Taylor Swift, or that the entirety of 1989 was lyrical genius. He knows he shouldn't, but he also knows it's inevitable. Kuroo turns to face Oikawa head on, voice now less of a whisper.
"You look like my next mistake." He adds quickly. "Love's a game, wanna play?"
The captain steps forward, pausing. "New money, suit and tie..."
☆ blank space
It's faint, but he hears it. In the distance the lyrics reach his ear and the temptation to resist is strong. It's reasonable, he should, really. The idea of someone hearing him doesn't seem like it'd bode well, but--
"Nice to meet you, where you been..." He says under his breath. "I could show you incredible things..."
grandkingly
