I am Kyouya Ootori, Vice President of the Ouran Host Club. What more would you like to know?
RP account for Una Pequeña Muerte, a multi-fandom RP.

kinkyeyepatchshit:

mommyknowsbest:

kinkyeyepatchshit replied to your post: I seriously meant it about yer snatch, dawg, I don’t want anythin’ that’s been in there, not even a crisp an only slightly wet fifty dollar bill

WHY YOU LYIN?!?!?!?!??!?! YOU DO TOO! an’ ew that’s grody. I dont want yer wet dollar bills I already toldja, I dont want them leftovers as juicy as they are, no.
Why would a female, because biologically that’s the only kind of person who could have a ‘snatch’, put dollar bills up one?  That’s unsanitary and highly destructive to the money.

These people have no common sense…including you.


AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHA

YOU SAID SNATCH YOU FRILLY RICH LITTLE SHIT, PUT THAT TA YER GOLDEN DOOKIEHOLE NOW wait no th’technicalities of that don’t work…

Anyhow they use them as PURSES when they’re walkin’ th’streets DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH god don’t you know anything

You thought delicate sensibilities would keep me from saying ‘snatch’?  You’re really so much more naive than I originally thought…not that I ever thought you weren’t.

That’s disgusting.  I admit I’ve never studied the ‘night life’ - nor did I ever intend to care enough to do so.  Glad to see you’ve obviously taken a liking to it, though.

kinkyeyepatchshit:

notatwelveyearoldgirl:

“I’m telling everyone.”

Not if I do first.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh christ jesus tap dancing balls I almost snorted my own goddamn cigarette again, fuuuuuuuuuckkkkkk 

Ahhh mama <3

You remember…I now have your signatures on contracts.

Don’t make me use that to my advantage, you two…

(Source: hagakurl)

kinkyeyepatchshit replied to your post: I seriously meant it about yer snatch, dawg, I don’t want anythin’ that’s been in there, not even a crisp an only slightly wet fifty dollar bill

WHY YOU LYIN?!?!?!?!??!?! YOU DO TOO! an’ ew that’s grody. I dont want yer wet dollar bills I already toldja, I dont want them leftovers as juicy as they are, no.

Why would a female, because biologically that’s the only kind of person who could have a ‘snatch’, put dollar bills up one?  That’s unsanitary and highly destructive to the money.

These people have no common sense…including you.


kinkyeyepatchshit said: I seriously meant it about yer snatch, dawg, I don't want anythin' that's been in there, not even a crisp an only slightly wet fifty dollar bill

I don’t have a snatch.  Honestly, don’t you know basic anatomy?

And even if I did - beggars can’t be choosers, dear Badou.

kinkyeyepatchshit:

notatwelveyearoldgirl:

akira-takizawas-johnny:

nsfw version of Kyouya’s new dress

made with the OTHER kind of meat

Read More

“I take it back.”

“I take it back, I take it back, I take it baaaaaack! This is disgusting! Why would you even wear something like this? Even that idiot has better sense than this!” A snort here, a sputter of words there. “Is this really what you’re into? You’re despicable! You’re an animal!”

……………..

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!!

I’M PISSIN

I’M

THERE’S PISS

FUCK

I CANT

HELP ME I’MMA CHOKE ON MY CIGARETTE

SOMEONE CALL TH’FASHION POLICE, STAT

OR TH’GHOST BUSTERS

OR RUPAUL’S DRAG QUEEN PEOPLE

OR A WHOREHOUSE

AHHHHHHHHH FUCK MY RIBS HURT 

Wh-what!

This isn’t a real photograph!  Someone must have Photoshopped it…but who?  And why?  Nevertheless, I can find my family’s private detective and give the culprit a little…nudge out of the country, hmm?

[glares at the two ‘Angels’]

You will say nothing about what you saw.

(Source: hagakurl)

kinkyeyepatchshit:

‘member when you were th’King Pin of blackmail? But without th’shitty suit an all th’fat an you weren’t bald as fuck with a boner fer Peter Parker?
Yeah, soooooooooooooo
we forget th’kinda elusive, secretive, lustful creature we’re dealin’ with.
Th’Kyouya is a dastardly beast that enjoys th’texture of dollar bills around his cootchie an still wears a fuckin’ cravat while wallowin’.
I’m startin’ ta think this advertisin’ thing might not be such a bad idea….
Luv uuuuuuuuuu mommy
x0x0x0x0x0
ur kawaii gingery son 
who u owe an allowance u fuckin dirty cock 
p.s don’t let this be th’start of bein’ a stripper, there’s only so many twenty dollar bills you can fit in your dookiehole, k? 

 
Wh&#8212;! [Kyouya grabs the photograph with a vigor unseen since he last&#8212;well, he wasn&#8217;t gonna go there, but a vigor seen last a while ago]
Exactly what is this?  It&#8217;s not me, that&#8217;s for sure&#8230;I mean, why the hell would I do something like this?
I&#8217;m not lustful, either - that&#8217;s a ludicrous statement, as is talking about twenty dollar bills around one&#8217;s &#8216;dookiehole&#8217;.  This picture is absolutely ridiculous, and whoever did this has a sense of humor I don&#8217;t find too agreeable.  And just who the hell is Peter Parker?
 

[suddenly, something clicks in his mind]
Or&#8230;this picture could be an indicator that I&#8217;m dealing with someone who thinks like me&#8230;who wants to get the ball rolling, and uses creative measures to do it.  Another &#8216;King Pin of Blackmail&#8217;, perhaps&#8230;

kinkyeyepatchshit:

‘member when you were th’King Pin of blackmail? But without th’shitty suit an all th’fat an you weren’t bald as fuck with a boner fer Peter Parker?

Yeah, soooooooooooooo

we forget th’kinda elusive, secretive, lustful creature we’re dealin’ with.

Th’Kyouya is a dastardly beast that enjoys th’texture of dollar bills around his cootchie an still wears a fuckin’ cravat while wallowin’.

I’m startin’ ta think this advertisin’ thing might not be such a bad idea….

Luv uuuuuuuuuu mommy

x0x0x0x0x0

ur kawaii gingery son 

who u owe an allowance u fuckin dirty cock 

p.s don’t let this be th’start of bein’ a stripper, there’s only so many twenty dollar bills you can fit in your dookiehole, k? 

 

Wh—! [Kyouya grabs the photograph with a vigor unseen since he last—well, he wasn’t gonna go there, but a vigor seen last a while ago]

Exactly what is this?  It’s not me, that’s for sure…I mean, why the hell would I do something like this?

I’m not lustful, either - that’s a ludicrous statement, as is talking about twenty dollar bills around one’s ‘dookiehole’.  This picture is absolutely ridiculous, and whoever did this has a sense of humor I don’t find too agreeable.  And just who the hell is Peter Parker?

[suddenly, something clicks in his mind]

Or…this picture could be an indicator that I’m dealing with someone who thinks like me…who wants to get the ball rolling, and uses creative measures to do it.  Another ‘King Pin of Blackmail’, perhaps…

(Source: hagakurl)

wagamamapuu:

kinkyeyepatchshit:

[Badou’s gleeful grin couldn’t get any wider even if he lost the gag reflex and extended the jaws like some boys we know, and he practically skipped over to Wolfram, tugging him over by a handful of his shirt over to a group huddle or something, grinning from ear to ear] You’ll join this mostly hard boiled, hard clipboard an now hard Martha Stuart wannabee ragtag group? Really, really? Alriiiiiiiiiiight~ I was a lil worried there, but thank fuck you let down yer hair. Haaaaah fuck ‘m so glad I don’t gotta be stuck with this dickbiter all by myself! [Badou choked out, blessing them both with a mock wibble-y lip and a shimmering eye, though that could have been the shitty light we’ve got to work with, or leftover gas; he really was thrilled though, in the most manliest of ways] 

An anyway, if we’re really gonna talk about what we do in our freetime, do we really gotta bring up th’clipboard under yer mattress, or th’calculator you tuck into bed at night, mom? Maybe one of th’princes fer our dazzlin’ services can be a tv, that’ll keep you from makin’ that shit my new stepdad. As long as we don’t gotta watch no soaps…or Walker Texas Ranger…that show gives me bad juju…

[But Kyouya’s mumbo jumbo registered eventually and, taking one of the papers from the teen, Badou scanned the document and cocked an eyebrow] As long as we don’t gotta get matchin’ tattoos of yer face on our asses, I don’t really give a fuck. Ah, no I better read it closely, yer good at squeezin’ into tight spaces, assfan….[With a grumble he read the rest, muttered something about no sick days, supreme sovereignty, required ties on thursdays, as well as the ritual sacrifice of one tiny business corporation once every blue moon, and shrugged] Kayyy what th’fuckever, let’s get this shit done already, ‘m ready ta do this~ 

Wait, another poor fuckin’ sap? Uuuuuhhhh…[He scratched a mantit in thought] Mayyyybe one guy, but he’s a total dickwad…what about you two, any ideas? What’s step three of this whole shingdig anyhow? Advertisin’? Cause ‘m pretty good at that, better’n yer brainwashin’ tactics mom

Oh, Shinou, he was going to have to sign his life away to this tycoon? Wolfram had the feeling that, even if they had become decent enough of friends, that Kyouya would be the type to hold whatever was in the contract against him. So, he opted to burn holes into the piece of paper with his gaze, brows drawing together. A dainty little hand reached out to snatch the paper from Badou so he could inspect it himself. Green eyes scanned it thoroughly, quietly.

“Nothing weird, right?” he glanced up at Badou, then turned to look at Kyouya. “I don’t want to do anything weird. Everything has to be done in a business, professional manner. I don’t know about you,” he nodded to Kyouya, “but this guy,” jerks his head towards Badou, “has a knack at turning things into some embarrassing situation I’m going to regret.” Regardless, he’d said he’d do it, right? Ugh, what a pain. 

“I don’t know many people,” he admitted, openly. He didn’t care that people knew he had a general aversion to the people here, and that most of his time he’d spent holed up with his former fiance. He rather liked that, actually. But, well, here he was. “So I couldn’t say that I know anyone to recommend.” Insert careless shrug. “We can just go with whoever Badou wants, right? I don’t care.” Anyway, he was just about to sign his life away, to the one Badou insisted on calling ‘mommy.’ Well, he’d come up with weird nicknames before, but the blonde was just a little curious.

“Why does he call you that?” The boy asked pointedly, arching a brow. Naturally, he assumed Kyouya would know what he meant. He seemed sharp enough. That and he couldn’t be bothered to explain much more than that.

[Dickbiter?, Kyouya thought, shaking his head at the creative insults Badou oh-so-lovingly gave his pester-targets, and just what the hell was Badou bringing up this ‘Walker, Texas Ranger’ or ‘soaps’ for?  What did any of this have to do with anything?  Did clipboards under pillows or calculators tucked into beds mean something suggestive?  He’d never heard that sexual innuendo before if it even was such a thing, and just decided it’d be best to ignore it.]

Yes, I’m quite good at placing things in between the lines, so please read carefully.

I’m sure I have no idea what you mean by ‘brainwashing,’ Badou, but whatever you say, I’m sure you can convince someone else just as well as you convinced Wolfram here.

[turns to the huffy blonde]

I can assure you there’s nothing weird - well, at least that we can control - that will happen.  We can’t control others but as far as we go, well, it should be pretty cut-and-dry.  I’m not really one for ‘weird’ things.

"Why does he call you that?" - [Kyouya blinked for a moment before he realized what Wolfram was referencing]

Oh, I assume you mean ‘Mom,’ or some variation thereof?  [Kyouya unconsciously slightly clenched his jaw, thinking of the way Badou whined ‘Mommy’ especially incessantly - but his thoughts were also turned partway to Tamaki and their little name game, and all the things that came with it.]

Mm, well, it’s a nickname my best friend, the president of our host club that we started together, coined back home.  He fashioned himself the ‘daddy’ of the newest blackmailee recruit, a girl you may have met named Haruhi Fujioka, and I was the ‘mommy’ because I handle the finances, profits, et cetera.  The nickname just sort of stuck, I suppose, and of course Badou exploits it constantly.

…if you’re thinking about calling me that, too, then I may have to add some debt to your person.

(Source: mommyknowsbest, via notatwelveyearoldgirl)

wagamamapuu:

Wolfram stared down at the bat in his hand, and tapped it against his calf as it hung loosely from his grasp. It was a bit contradictory, he did admit. But who was this guy to judge how he spent his time? “What does it matter to you what I have my priorities as?” This guy was getting under his skin. What he said and how he acted were a little different to the attitude he was putting off, which he didn’t trust. Or maybe it was because Wolfram had a general dislike for anyone he’d barely met.

“Interesting, huh…” The blonde scoffed softly, unimpressed as usual. His usual response would be to deny vehemently that no, he would not participate in their little business, and they could kindly leave as soon as humanly possible. Of course, giving Badou the opportunity to speak had been the death of him. He let him speak entirely, waiting until the very end of his obviously thought out speech to actually say anything in return.

“No, I do trust you…” He started, slowly, biting his lower lip in obvious contemplation. He didn’t hate Badou, and even having the ginger defend him a little was nice. But, again, something he’d never admit. And if Badou trusted this guy, then it couldn’t be all bad, right? Badou promised. And Wolfram never forgot a promise.

“Fine,” he said, resignedly. “I’ll join your group. What do I do?” The nagging feeling he’d regret this later was eating away at him, but he figured that it would pass. Hopefully. Having fun wasn’t a terrible thing, not that he’d had a lot of it. This could be good, to get his mind off of things.

[smirks and adjusts glasses]

It doesn’t matter to me at all how you spend your free time, of course.  I merely used it as a way to point out the inaccuracies of your argument. [He could tell the boy didn’t trust him, but Kyouya wasn’t extremely trusting of many people at first either because of the general façade he put up around people related to his father’s company, Ouran classmates, and even people here.  Maybe they could relate in their general untrusting nature.  Not that Kyouya was looking to relate to anyone in a business deal, of course.]

[Kyouya’s smirk grew bigger ~on the inside~ when he saw Wolfram’s slight change of expression at the end of Badou’s speech.  He tried to contain the “just according to keikaku” feeling he had and nodded, smiling charmingly]

Excellent.  I’m glad to hear it.  I just need you and Badou to sign these two lines on this sheet, agreeing to split the profits - in whatever form they come - and to work for me unless otherwise you decide to quit, for which you will need to fill out this form [which he then brandished].

I just need to get a few more things organized, and we’ll be able to start.

[scribbles something down on a sheet of paper]

Oh, and by the way - if either of you can think of a third person, that would be optimal for profit sharing and organization for me. But if not, we’ll make do with the two of you.  [He wondered how much of a mistake this would be, but figured he had nothing to lose in this place, so he’d take the risk.  It paid off at Ouran, maybe it would here.]

(Source: mommyknowsbest, via notatwelveyearoldgirl)

wagamamapuu:

Wolfram’s eyes narrowed at the gaze that Kyouya seemed to have set on him. It unsettled him, and further ruffled his feathers. And then the boy cleared his throat, and opened his mouth, to speak, apparently. The blonde almost didn’t care to hear it, but it seemed as though he had some semblance of manners. How utterly pleasing. As he introduced himself with some impossibly strange last name, the blonde also noted in the back of his mind that this Kyouya had black hair. And black eyes, it appeared, too. Not that it was especially surprising here - only for you know, in his country. It meant royalty. Or some shit.

A group? Oh. Yeah. Group. Wolf wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste, giving a slight nod. “Yeah, he told me about it. Something about… investigative work? I can’t say I have the time for such nonsense and childish games, no matter who’s running the show.” Not even you, Mr. Businessman.

He took this time to sneer at Badou. “I’m doing fine, thank you.” The knife and piece of wood were swaying just a bit in his hands, not precariously so, thank god. “Oh, I didn’t even think of stabbing you with it. Trust me. You do trust me, don’t you?” The words were dry and sarcastic, just like the emotions that Badou so lovingly invoked from deep inside of his soul.

Wait. Did he just call Kyouya mom? What the hell?

[Kyouya kept his cool {hurr get it} at Wolfram’s obvious disdain for the whole idea, and smirked when the boy was finished.  He made a mental note of the way Wolfram seemed to evaluate him and wondered what he could possibly be thinking.  Probably something along the lines of what kind of sensible young man would be caught wandering and making business deals with a chain-smoking slurred-speech-having redhead like Badou.  Kyouya didn’t know, either.]

You don’t have time…yet you’re sitting in your trailer carving a bat for an absent significant other?  You don’t find that contradictory?

I believe this can make your life much more interesting, Wolfram, and if you’ll allow me, I’ll detail these reasons further, [grabs Badou by the shirt, yanking him over and turning him to face the blonde] along with Badou, of course.

[puts on his best host smile]

(Source: mommyknowsbest, via notatwelveyearoldgirl)

wagamamapuu:

Another uneventful, not too particular day.

Wolfram, of course, had always managed to find ways to bide his time - lest he go crazy. Well, crazier. He was already on the verge of psychotic, but that was another story, for another day, far into the future. Or in about a minute. Regardless, today, he’d spent his time carving into a chunk of wood he’d probably broken off of something that wasn’t a tree - no, it might have been a building, or even a cabinet in the kitchen, and was doing his best to make it into a makeshift bat. For his, unfortunately, ever-absent boyfriend. What a stupid wimp. How dare he be gone when Wolf was wasting all of his time on this stupid gift? He could at least have told him where he went. The blonde snorted to himself, clearly unimpressed, obviously hiding the hurt that went with being abandoned. 

He was probably cheating on him with some pretty girl. Or even multiple pretty girls…

And, of course, all of his thoughts, all of his murderous rage was put to a halt when he heard shouting, bloody shouting of whatever - was that Badou? it had to be - Badou had decided to call him that day. Today, well, it was a doozy. Green eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before narrowing sharply as he stood so quickly that he felt a bit dizzy. Instead of allowing the dizziness to have much of an effect on him, however, Wolfram went straight to the trailer door, carving knife and wood in hand (lol get it get it) and all. 

Homicidal didn’t even begin to cover it. The look on his face was one of absolute rage, maybe a tad embarrassment. Mostly rage. Sorry, bro.

“What do you want?” He hissed, hardly noticing the boy next to Badou. Well, until he realized that he looked like a normal human being. Did Badou have the sort of charm that just drew in poor, normal people like himself? Maybe he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. This guy could be just as obnoxious as his gingery brother. Maybe even ten times as dense. “What’s with this surprise visit and your stupid nicknames? I don’t appreciate either one of them.” 

[Kyouya eyed the boy in front of him, indignant and almost flustered, and arched an eyebrow; this was who Badou wanted to form this…’group’ with?  Hardly what Kyouya would have pictured - especially for being a ‘friend’ of Badou’s, but it didn’t matter, really.  What mattered was how willing he was to go along with this, and how—was that a bat? and a knife?]

[Kyouya cleared his throat]

Excuse me, Wolfram, is it?  I don’t mean to interrupt such a magnificent reunion, but I want to introduce myself before — [he cast a sidelong glance at Badou, eyeing the cigarette smoke curling up before turning back to face the blonde] — Nails here doesn’t give me a chance.

I’m Kyouya Ootori. [he gives a nod and small smile - maybe he could work some of his host tricks on the surely-gay blonde.] And I’ve heard Badou’s talked to you about a…group of sorts already?  Well, I’m knowledgeable in business matters and would be interested in helping you two.  And possibly a third, for optimal work output.

[adjusts his glasses for good measure…and good luck]

(Source: mommyknowsbest, via notatwelveyearoldgirl)

themed by coryjohnny for tumblr