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emmyrosee · 2 years

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Kiyoomi thinks play fighting is childish.

Fairly standard things, he knows Meian and his partners do it, and he knows atsumu has a track record of losing to Hinata, Bokuto is notoriously playful after a big win, but it never appealed to Kiyoomi like it does them, and in turn, they know better than to test and try his patience.

Unfortunately, for Kiyoomi it seems you don’t get that same message.

It wasn’t his fault Meian needed him so suddenly, messing up the dates for their new sizing for the team jerseys, and he doesn’t want to leave and more than you don’t want him to, but Kiyoomi must oblige for his career’s sake, and for the love of the gods, where the hell did he put his keys-

“Oh, you haven’t left yet?” You hum brattily, and Kiyoomi feels the vein in his head throb.

“No,” he grumbles, a hand carding back his curls as he stands up straight. “Baby, you haven’t seen my keys have you? I could’ve sworn I’d left them-“

“Oh- you mean these keys?” There’s a jingle that prompts the end of your tease, and goosebumps of irritation rise from his skin.

“For fucks sake,” he groans, finally turning to face you. “I’ve been looking all over the place for them, why would you take them?”

“Because I don’t want you to leave,” you shrug, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Which it was, but he’s never going to let you know that.

“Give me my keys, I’m going to be-“

“No.”

His brows shot up in surprise, taken aback by your defiance for his demand. “What do you mean ‘no?’” He snips, taking a step towards you, and snarling when you take one back confidently. In reality, there’s a feeling brewing in his gut at your words, almost like an excitement and eagerness for a challenge. He doesn’t want you to see it though, he’s an adult and there’s no reason for such an emotional response to come from your audacity.

“I’m sorry, what letter is tripping you up?” You say, a mocking brow cocking upwards as you jingle his keys in your fingers. “N. O.”

Oh, you’re so in for it.

“Watch yourself,” he snarls, but the glimmer in his onyx eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and it makes you lick your teeth in excitement. But there’s absolutely nothing, no warning, no thoughts that could prepare him for the low, snarky little words that fall from your lips next.

“Make me.”

“You little brat,” he growls, but he’s unable to fight the smirk on his lips as he drops his bag and absolutely sprints towards you, relishing in your screams as you try to run fast and far from him. He’s an athlete, surely you must’ve known he’d catch up to you, but even if you do, you cackle and shriek in surprise when long fingers grip the back of your shirt and positively yanks you back towards him, threads popping and your legs kicking wildly to escape. It’s unsuccessful, and he’s on full adrenaline and excitement when he pulls you up and over his shoulder, fists banging into his back.

“Since when are you so strong!” You whine around cackles.

“I can physically lift and move Bokuto, you think you’re a problem for me?” His answer comes quick and in-between pants, his cheeks hurt from the grin that splits his face, and even before you can beg and plead for giggly mercy, he hauls you into the bedroom.

He tosses you carelessly enough on the bed to have you scrambling to face him, your eyes glimmering from laughing so much. His heart squeezes, and if he weren’t on absolute adrenaline right now, he would’ve bent down and kissed the giggles out of your mouth.

But alas, he holds himself back and instead, when he lowers his hands to try and grab his keys, yours bat them away, the keys stabbing his knuckles one too many times for his liking.

“Oh you fucking-“ he growls as he flips you back onto your belly to face away from him again, and when you try to flip over with your free arm, he knocks the weight out from under you, pinning the arm without the keys behind your back, the arm with the keys flailing for freedom over the edge of the bed.

“Omi!” You whine around howls of laughter, your arm bent in an awkward angle, but you’re not fighting back as rough as he’d expect, and he takes it as a sign you’re still having fun. He snarls and moves your arm higher up your back to ease the tension, and you merely bury your face in the mattress as you cackle.

Then, a massive paw claps a playful smack on your ass, and he absolutely loves the sound of your shocked scream. “Kiyoomi!” You scold, head whipping around but the grin on your face still beaming wildly. You’re clearly surprised to see him in such a state, but he can tell just by the body language that you love it. “Don’t do that!”

He smirks, “you gonna give me my keys?”

“No! You promised me- OW!”

Another rough smack lands on your butt, and your legs kick out with a giggly “stop it!” to which he prompts another smack. Then, a squeeze to your hips to make you writhe and shriek at the ticklishness. And one final slap when he hears the clatter of his keys hitting the floor.

After deeming you punished enough, Kiyoomi releases you to curl up and giggle on yourself, his pulse beating wildly from the adrenaline and exhilaration pulsing through his blood stream. “Don’t test me again, brat.” He cards back his curls and makes his way over to the dropped keys, and he crouched down to pick them up, planting a kiss on your head as he stands back up. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Who knew the impenetrable Sakusa Kiyoomi could be so playful?” You hum, smiling innocently up at him. He gives you a deadpanned stare and a flick to your head to make you whine.

“Come back to me, ‘kay?” You whisper, sitting up and pouting you lips out for another kiss. He rolls his eyes and complies, a large hand tenderly stroking your jawline, and lips whispering a soft “of course,” against yours.

“I’ll always come back to you… even if you are the bane of my existence.”

——-

@meloomi IM SO SORRY I HAD TO TAG YOU, IF I GO DOWN YOURE COMIN WITH ME-

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yakumtsaki · 6 years

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Ok I knew I hadn’t posted Unions in forever but good lord. The screenshots after, not before, AFTER this.. are the previews for this. Like we’re literally talking ancient history here. Let’s dive right in and see if we can wrap this up sometime during a human’s natural lifespan. SO when we left off we were desperately trying to make friends for Wyatt’s final promotion, ‘desperately’ being the operative word. We’ve done some pathetic shit in our time but shittalking each other to Apartment Life nobodies is honestly peak gutter, so you know. our natural environment. Spoiler alert, the kids are teens now and Wyatt has still not gotten promoted! Truly the Picasso of incompetence.

Good ol’ uncle Gunther is also here for some reason which I’m guessing is ‘came over uninvited’ but at least someone is paying attention to Shajar for once. Beggars can’t be choosers and Gunther as a father figure is the equivalent of someone leaving a button and good vibes in your cup.

-So you see Shajar, life is nothing but a slow march towards our certain doom so who cares if your parents hate you?? My parents hated me till adulthood and I turned out amazing as you can surely tell by my stripes/plaid/indoor sunglasses combo!

-Think long and hard before procreating, brother, because there’s no guarantee you’ll even like your kids. Looking at you, Shajar.

-Um can I go now?

-Don’t know why you’re here in the first place and not in the crypt where we’ve set up your bed and everything! Kids these days.

Oh right, Brit Brit is also here so I guess I did invite these douchebags over. Way to go @ me.

-BRITTANY HOW COULD YOU TEAR THE MORAL FABRIC OF OUR WIFE-SWAPPING-BASED LIFE PARTNERSHIP LIKE THIS???? JUST STEAL ONE OF THEIR PETS LIKE AN UPSTANDING CITIZEN

DON’T YOU DARE BRIT-

Ugh nevermind, it’s Sophie aka Brittany in cat form. Take her!

And take Shajar too while you’re at it cause absolutely not @ Victoria dying but the gnome drama living on. ENOUGH. This almost makes me appreciate Cyneswith’s ridiculous 10 nice points for a split second..

..but then I turn around and see this. GOOD GRIEF. How did Jojo and Wyatt produce vegan Tinkerbell here not even god knows.

This alliance of obnoxiousness is but the first in what is gonna become a running theme of every annoying flop in this neighborhood looooooving Maxx. Can’t keep kindred spirits apart for long! Honestly this legacy is turning me from pet maniac to Captain Ahab, like on one hand you have fucking Maxx who hasn’t done anything yet but just you wait till he grows up-

-and on the other you have FUCKING VICTOR’S GHOST TRYING TO KILL US EVERY NIGHT. Apparently Victor + being a dick = a love not even death can tear asunder. Seriously tg kids can’t die cause these overactive freaks are up all night till the sun, are up all night to get some (entertainment), are up all night for good fun, are up all night to get lucky murdered.

This happens about 3000 times per night, I’m not even taking pics of it anymore, but it’s worth pointing out that everyone in this house, both alive/dead and human/non has a raging hate boner for Shajar in particular. It’s uncanny and depressing..

..and speaking of depressing, UGH. My poor, poor Shajar. I actually attempted to intervene and have them interact being the moron that I am:

JOJO WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM

.....................................WHERE IS VICTOR’S GHOST WHEN I NEED IT

Yea sure, waste your niceness reserves on fucking Goro here instead, who isn’t even the cat heir and is about to go live on the farm (not a euphemism, Daniel and Melody’s literal farm). This Jojo fuckery is seriously starting to bum me out on top of pissing me off, let me find something cute to look at to raise my spirits..

No.

NO.

Disturbing stuff.

Seems about right.

Old habits die hard.

No.

Ugh.

UGH.

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE

FINALLY. THANK YOU CATS. Now let’s get back to this nightmare..

..and I mean nightmare in the technical sense of something not real occurring when you’re asleep, because Wyatt maxing a skill is truly the stuff of Taylor Swift-Wildest Dreams.mp3. It’s official, the only thing standing between us and Wyatt’s LTW is social ineptitude. But what if we revolutionize the friend game by approaching someone who can’t leave..

..because she’s contractually obligated to be here?? Go for it Wyatt!

-So Kaylýnn, you have the français maid thing going, I’m French and in need of a hag, c’est match made in les paradis!

-Yea sorry, Henry III, but it’s my professional policy to not fraternize with married clients I have no chance of fucking.

-But..but you’re just a face template fiasco!

-..I have some bad news for you.

Kaylynn left Wyatt dick in hand and went to pet the cats, so I guess the day has arrived for me to go from being the leading Langerak hater of this community to being the leading stan-

-and apparently the leading Jitmakusol stan as well, which as we all know is a large and very competitive group. DOWN WITH JOJO

Well at least you still have this invaluable stamp of approval! All I see in this pic is 3 bags of trash.

Look at this trove, treasures untold, how many assholes can one photo hold? The reason there’s more awful people in our house than usual is the “exciting” occasion of the Shajar/Wulf double birthday and honestly even by our standards this party was especially terrible. Like it makes the one where Komei and Marissa happened look like Project X.

When this is the situation 10 seconds in you know you’re in for a good time. I don’t think a single positive interaction took place this entire party and I’ve subconsciously (?) forgotten every birthday since. What a loss!

Wulf is up first, and of course since this is Wyatt’s literal one and only parenting-related job, it took 3 cakes to happen and no one is paying attention by the time it does.

Wyatt makes one last-ditch effort to kill his child via decapitation and obviously he thinks it worked thus the wide smile. But Wulf is named after the spawn of Satan, head spinning comes with the territory-

-as do incredible looks. Gunther hair + tuxedo, and you think your little yellow blazer is subversive?? Step it up.

-If the sunglasses weren’t blocking the power of my stare this child would be dead by my sheer resentment.

Happy birthday, Wulf! 2/2 surviving murder attempts.

Wulf gets this Don Corleone makeover because a) he also survived murder attempts b) wedding tuxedo c) trying to avoid a Gunther mental breakdown. He looks exactly like Wyatt, like I don’t think there’s a drop of Jojo in there..

..BUT MAN IS THE PERSONALITY PURE UNION. Another nice little addition to our ever expanding freakshow.

Shajar time and no one is paying attention now either but there’s no cake malfunction, they just don’t care! And why should they? What is she, their child?

Wyatt can’t even be bothered to stay standing for literally 10 more seconds. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a parent do that before but you can always count on Wyatt for this sort of innovation.

And this is what Shajar grows up to: Wyatt half-asleep, Daniel waiting to beat him up and the rest reacting to Wulf having shit himself. I don’t think any further comment is needed.

Now, having lived through the experience that was Daniel and having marveled at Shajar’s seemingly genetic unlikability, I’m sure we can all tell which is the one aspiration she should under no circumstances roll because it’s going to make nails on a chalkboard seem like a fun musical break.. Yes, this is not a drill..

..we have another trainwreck firstborn who can’t get their own family not to hate them roll popularity. AND DANIEL WAS NICE. Shajar is bringing 1 nice point to the table so all I can say at this point is fml.

And of course because the above wasn’t bad enough on its own and we always need the overkill, gaze upon whatever the fuck this is-

-YE MIGHTY AND DESPAIR. GOOD GOD SHAJAR

LOL. Well with the custom sky this is an Under The Dome situation so technically you’re not wrong but still. fucking popularity? Leave the sky alone and aim for ‘slightly above ground’. Even that is pushing it.

Good, finally we return to reality and face the facts. Couldn’t agree more!

#ts2 #gen 2

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emmyrosee · 2 years

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head empty, only domestic Sunarin being a menace in love.

like it’s a little rainy out, and the day drips by so slow that there’s no real need to plan anything; you’re still in your pj’s and he’s rocking an EarthBound shirt that you gave him like, four years ago.

it’s warm in the room and the tv news lady couldn’t be talking any slower, and it’s just silent between you two, there’s no need to impress each other- that’s especially apparent when he gets up, stretches and mumbles a quiet, “gotta poop,” before shuffling to the bathroom- and it’s just. Nice. There’s no where to be, no where to go, and it’s one of the few chances you have seeing Rintaro out of his “cool guy” facade he smacks on for his teammates, and becomes the adult child you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Psssst… babe,” he says, eyes flicking up to look at you from over his phone. When you say nothing, focused on reading, he slowly sticks his tongue out in concentration before poking you once, twice, three times with his socked toes, all the while mumbling little “babe” “baby?”

“Babe-“

“What Rintaro, what could you possibly want so bad that you need to poke me with your nasty ass dogs?” You ask, grabbing his foot before he could poke you again. Your head turns to send him a scolding look, but it turns into one of amusement when you see him, looking back at you with doe-like eyes that blink innocently. “Really?”

“Can you get me some Doritos?” He mumbles, pleading, and you can’t believe you actually live with this man-baby. You roll your eyes and play with the sock on his foot, “why didn’t you grab any when you got up to take a dump the last four times you went.”

“I didn’t want them then!”

“Okay, then why do I have to get them now?”

“Because you love me,” he coos, sharp features curled into a stupid, loving smile.

You offer him a groan. “I do, and I cannot stand you milking that for your own gain,” you say exhaustedly. Then, you sigh and cast him a dramatic look, “what’s the magic word?”

“Lotion?”

Your brows furrow as you stare at each other, his face completely collected while you’re trying your damnedest not to laugh. “Rin,” you sigh, throwing back his foot back to him and standing up. “You’re going to come home one day and find your stuff on the sidewalk, I swear to God.”

“Thank you, schnookums!” He sings, knowing he won as he curls back up under his blanket.

“EW!” You yell from the kitchen. “Don’t you ever, again!”

And sure, he’ll pout when you whip the bag of Doritos at his head with all your might, but inevitably will smile as wide as he can when you start to cackle at your own stupid antics. And later on, when movie reruns will start to play on whatever channel you’re having on for noise, he flip over to have his head rest in your lap to sleep with your fingers tangled in his hair.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his lips pursed out against the softness of your belly. You lean down to kiss his temple affectionately, placing one, two, three sweet pecks to his warm skin.

“I love you,” you whisper back, humming contentedly. “Even if you are the bane of my existence.”

“You know you love it.”

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