inspirenjional replied to your post: inspirenjional replied to your post: ...
GOES BONELESS.
ATTEMPTS TO PICK ZHIM UP LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES
inspirenjional replied to your post: inspirenjional replied to your post: ...
ur gonna have to carry me there mf
Rolls up sleeves. Let’s go
inspirenjional replied to your post: NOT L I T E R A L SHIT OH MY GOD
PHRASING
You have like one try before I banish you to the couch
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My remix for Ed Sheeran - Shape Of You Listen on Youtube: https://youtu.be/fGfLX5Zx8x8 Like and share If you like 🎧
NOT L I T E R A L SHIT OH MY GOD
When you put Izuru ‘calling Mayuri out publicly’ Kira, Shuuhei ‘calling Central 46 out to their faces’ Hisagi, and Renji ‘backtalking Byakuya regularly’ Abarai in the same household, you really just. Have to expect a certain amount of passive-aggression.
Just, like. Chains of sticky notes responding to each others’ sticky notes about whose turn it is to take out the trash. Shuuhei assigning Renji and/or Izuru to the same chore more often if he thinks they half-assed it. Izuru submitting personal complaints to the Communication for Shuuhei. Mirror-fog notes of the ‘I love you’ variety but also the ‘Look at that lovely wad of golden hair in the drain! wonder who THAT could be’ variety.
Spirits help whoever Kyoko’s captain ends up being, because that child is going to be utterly vicious.
Response, Reprise, and Regret, a Triage of Nontraditional Haiku by Kira Izuru
1. Response
For the record I never said it wasn’t me, but Shuuhei did too.
2. Reprise
My pjs are soaked. Next time I sit in that shit, the doghouse for you.
3. Regret
If you’d only ask, I’d give you better pictures whenever you want.
Kira Izuru here. Yes, yes I know I’m exactly the person you wanted to see right now. Anyway, I have before me my latest book of poetry. It has plenty of haiku in it, as expected, but also several more ‘experimental’ pieces. For instance:
- It’s Not My Fault Your Dogs Are (Already) Spoiled, a freeform poem experimenting with nontraditional structure
- I’m Not The Only Bacon Giver In This House, a rebuttal in the form of a prose poem that may also be a confessional
- Quit Leaving the Toilet Seat Up / Some of Us Have to Sit to Pee, a limerick
- Untitled, a sonnet beginning with the lines ‘You know, it’s not that hard to clean the drain / the hair within its depths are clearly red’
- I Know Rangiku Gave You Those Pictures, a pastoral set of verses that verges on saucy
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[ deuxscythetango ]
Funny, how Izuru pulls off these sassy moved while still having all the social grace of a baby duckling. He’s a special one, alright.
“Oh yeah? What happened to carrying me home?” Somewhere in the world, there’s an incredibly specific sexual fantasy that involves being a high-ranking shinigami at one’s desk with a beautiful blond in their lap. This fantasy may or may not be Shuuhei’s.
Izuru also happens to smell very nice. Like clean laundry. Sexy. Shuuhei may or may not lean his head against Izuru’s shoulder.
“Just say the word, and I’ll whisk you off.”
He’s certainly special, and quite clever. Not to mention he has the self-control of a saint! It would be unimaginably easy to seduce Shuuhei, and then that paperwork would never get done. Such a shame.
Instead, he wraps his fingers into Shuuhei’s hair to pull him closer. His hair is thicker, coarser than Izuru’s or even Renji’s, and he likes the way it feels against his hand. “No resting, though. Only work. You’re the one who wanted to finish before you leave.”
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[ deuxscythetango ]
“There’s a seat over-”
But of course. Shuuhei immediately becomes aware of the flaw in his plans. The advantage is squarely in Izuru’s court, and Shuuhei still can’t see his paperwork with Izuru seated on top of him.
Shuuhei hadn’t really realized how tired he was until there’s an extremely tactile Izuru infront of him.
“… Comfortable, are we?”
Look, if there’s one thing that Izuru takes complete and utter joy in, it’s his ability to respond to any situation with as much insolence as possible. Shuuhei always has such an excellent response, too.
“Of course,” he says, though he does make a point of balancing more fully on Shuuhei’s thigh to give him a clear line of sight to the paperwork. This does, of course, require an arm around Shuuhei’s shoulder, which may or may not provide a bit of distraction. But now at least Shuuhei can finish up.
“Better hurry.”
izuru: [hears a sappy folk song] izuru: Thats me and renji and shuuhei me: nO ITS NO- I mean Kind of,
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[ deuxscythetango ]
Is Izuru sniffing him?
“I have no doubt. But I’ve almost finished up here.” Shuuhei explains, even though that’s not strictly true. He could easily put off the last of this document for tomorrow. Besides, it’s currently under Izuru’s ass. “You’re more than welcome to sit patiently and keep me company, though.” A teasing tone? From serious Shuuhei? Never. Unheard of.
Sniffing, confirmed. Hey, it was a long nine hours, alright?
“Oh, have you?” That seems unlikely; there’s always something to do around here. That’s one of the risks of being a lieutenant — without enough self-control and motivation, you might never go home. “I might just take you up on that, then.”
...well, Shuuhei should probably have specified where Izuru sit and keep him company. But since that didn’t happen, he’s going to just have to deal with Izuru plopping himself down right on Shuuhei’s thigh.
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[ deuxscythetango ]
There is his handsome boy! Nine hours. Izuru, you fool. That’s like an eternity. That was practically an entire lunchtime ago.
“Why so impatient?” When is Izuru not impatient, is the better question. Of course, Shuuhei is the only functional chef in the house, so unless Renji is REALLY about to surprise them, their schedule orbits around him.
Is Shuuhei wearing cologne? Oh, no, that’s just the general musk that he acquires after a certain tenure of nonstop work. Izuru doesn’t mind that much. It’s kind of endearing, actually.
“You’re starving us to death, and we missed you.” Oh, they could’ve gone and gotten takeout yet again, but they’ve been advised against that. “So, are you coming, or am I going to have to carry you home?”
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[ deuxscythetango ]
Where is his husband?
It’s been fifty years since Shuuhei last saw his loving mate. So bright, so young, so full of life. a golden halo enveloping his sweet, sweet head.
Sometimes Shuuhei can almost hear his voice…
Quit talking about him like he’s dead, Shuuhei. That’s insensitive, Shuuhei. He’s been alive again for like nine years and two months, Shuuhei.
Also, you saw him nine hours ago.
Izuru sets himself on top of Shuuhei’s paperwork in an otherwise-deserted printing office. “Time to go,” he urges.
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Promise
Bizarrely, Lieutenant Kira Izuru is probably the person Rukia has known the first and longest, aside from Renji. He’s also the person Rukia knows the most about while knowing the least, personally.
Rukia isn’t sure what to do about that. Kira just seems very nervous and uncomfortable around her. And his nervousness makes Rukia nervous! She might try to needle Renji for information, but zhe’s surprisingly tight-lipped about zher relationships. Not even Rukia’s most vicious rib-jabbing reveals much that she didn’t already know.
At any rate, the recent… events haven’t done a great job at bringing them even closer. Maybe that can be her new year resolution.
“Aww, poor dear. Of course she’ll be fine, though. She’s a tough kid, and has the three of you.” A thoughtful frown does cross over Rukias face, however. Her finger taps her lips. “If that’s the case, though, maybe it’s good for her to stay at home. I’m sure she’s much more comfortable there than in a big, empty old house.”
Byakuya would probably pale at that description of the mansion. Sorry, Nii-san, but short of feeding the koi fish there’s not much for a sick kid to do around the estate, regardless of how starchy and sterile the guest rooms are.
And, of course, there’s Kira’s nerves again. Acting cagey and reluctant, like he thinks she doesn’t want him to be here. She’ll show him, this time!
“Hm? Of course, Kira-kun. Anything you want.”
It’s... not that Izuru hasn’t been interested in Rukia and her friendship. Just the opposite, in fact. Simply, there are too many things that have kept him from truly opening up to her. Too many obstacles, or snares along the path. Well, at least one major obstacle.
Which probably is just an excuse, since that same obstacle is what initially brought him closer to Rangiku. But it’s different with Rukia, somehow. (Maybe it’s Rukia herself who is different; or maybe he feels a tad bit... guilty? No, it’s far too late for guilt.)
(Not that that’s ever stopped him.)
He reminds himself to keep his mind on the task at hand and clears his throat. “Well, Nobu is certainly eager to keep her content, so I don’t complain.” Izuru promptly recalls at last five instances of complaining within the last twelve hours and expels them from his memory. “She likes familiar sights — but you know that, of course.”
Kyoko hadn’t taken to the Kuchiki manor like she had most of the other places they’ve visited. Maybe it was the size, and the austerity, or maybe it had something to do with her parents’ visceral discomfort in such a place. Either way, they don’t visit there often, so it’s not like they’ve had a chance to figure it out.
He’s procrastinating. Izuru presses the tips of his fingers together in an effort not to fiddle with the hems of his shihakusho. “Well... you know that I’ve been seeing Renji and Hisagi-san for quite some time now, right?” Dumb question; the three of them are the Seireitei’s worst-kept secret by this point. Just three friends, living together in a two-bedroom house with two dogs, a cat, and two kids.
“I actually... I had a question about that.”
—@inspirenjional
“Dad, where are we going? Where’s Papa and Daddy?”
Izuru hates how small her voice sounds, in the doorway as he rushes to gather some things. Kyoko is in her night clothes, one tiny hand balled into a fist in front of her face; Izuru just barely registers the damp thumb, the stuffed bear dragging from the other dark fingers at her side. He hates that she’s awake at all. He doesn’t want to have to be the one to explain this.
He tosses a few toys, a blanket, some spare clothes... He can’t imagine that they’ll be away for long enough to merit a more extensive set of luggage, and he himself will make do with just the clothes on his back. (He does, however, grab some extra shihakusho for Shuuhei and Renji. Based on Shuuhei’s text, it sounds like they’ll need them.)
“It’s okay, Kyoko. Everything is going to be alright.”
He has to believe it, for both of their sakes.
By the time he’s done cramming stuff into a bag (hopefully the dogs won’t miss them, or else Rangiku can stop by to check on them), Kyoko’s face has evened out into her usual expression: a mixture of trust and judgment. Yes, she expects her dad to handle this, just like everything else. So there’s no choice; he must live up to that.
It’s nearly two in the morning by the time they get to the Fourth Division. Izuru ignores the officer stationed at the front desk and tracks them by reiatsu, breezing past empty rooms and the nurse’s station to find Shuuhei. He’s dozing, his body strewn out across a waiting room bench like the wayward limbs of a colt. Grimy-looking and clearly exhausted but otherwise unhurt.
“Stay here with Mugu-chan,” he tells Kyoko softly, picking her up off his shoulder to set her on the ground next to Shuuhei’s bench, where she hoists her bear and sucks her thumb and just stares at him. “You can see Papa soon, I’m just... gonna check on zhim.”
In the room, Izuru pulls the door shut with an anticlimactic click. There’s only Renji here, and though he wants to rush over and find the problem he instead stops next to the door and fixes his attention on just zher face. Zhe is fine. He has to remember that zhe is okay.
“You’re not supposed to get hurt,” he says, and crosses his arms, and tries to ignore the many, many layers of bandages wrapped around zhim. “You had Kyoko worried.”
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ghostflannel-deactivated2019041
even when they’re older, renji, shuuhei, and izuru are giant snuggly dorks