#&. asks.

shit we’ve said in dnd starters | accepting! | @hairhorns              

                “H–huh?”It’s the last thing he expects from someone so BOLD. He and his co-intern are like night and day, and Tamaki is sure they have nothing in common whatsoever. So the question catches him off-guard.

                Although, maybe it’s just that every question does. 

Either way, Suneater’s shoulders jump a solid 6 inches as he turns in horror to the question’s source, eyes shut tight.                       

               “…Die?” 

He’s fairly certain he had this exact question during his first internship as a provisional hero. After all, to someone unaccustomed, the training can be rigorous and the missions can be terrifying. He has to bite his tongue; almost answers with a simple ‘yes.’ 

But that’s not true is it? He pulls his hood down over his eyes so it’s a little easier to answer honestly. Tamaki exists in a near-eternal state of WWMD. It’s no different here. He bares his chattering teeth in an attempt at a smile.

               I am here. … or something.

               “ you won’t die.… you passed the licensing test, right? This isn’t nearly as bad… “ 

No good. His smile wavers. It’s uncomfortable. He fumbles with the pockets on his vest for something soothing but considering his power, it’s unconventional. Attempt number two.        

                 “B-beef? I have some just in case but you can have a bit if you need it…”  He relinquishes the snack into Red Riot’s open palms. It’s gone in an instant; which means its Suneater’s responsibility to cover the silence while his Kouhai chews. He only has so much motivational sayings in his repertoire, however, so in WWMD fashion, Suneater keeps it simple. 

                 “You’ve got this, Red Riot. And even if you don’t, I’m here to back you up.” 

He holds out his hand, high-five ready apart from one detail; a single, bonus snack from his special, secret pocket. A small chocolate, still wrapped.  

TYSMM!!! im in the process of making a new theme LOL 😜

&. 𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗦 ! ⸺

yohan looks at the other, sharp, thinks about throwing up a peace sign and a duckish pout like all the new generation kids he sees on social media these days, but he’s convinced they have the emotional intelligence of a rock.

instead, yohan simply takes a long, trying drag of the burning stick between his lips, nicotine and salt seeping onto his tongue. the mix of bittersweetness is nauseating, but he’s very good at making bad choices.

“anyone who cries pretty is either a narcissist or inhuman,” he mutters, flicking ash into the breeze. yohan fixes iseul with a grave, probing look before shrugging. “but hey, i don’t judge.”

&. 𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗦 ! ⸺

“ no, ” yohan grunts, ripping root and vine from the earth. “ now is perfect, i need a moment. ” one radish, two radish, three dozen in a basket, he hefts onto his shoulder, dropping it unceremoniously into the back of the pickup.

the fence, he leans against, his impeccable visage sullied from 6 AM labor with only the promise of a smoke break keeping him from calling it quits for the day. “ how would you go about making sure someone…keeps a secret. ”

without threats, is what he doesn’t say.

&. 𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗦 ! ⸺

the resounding clink reverberates into yohan’s knuckles, makes his wrists sing and his fingertips crawl with the toast. he stares into his cup with blatant apprehension. certainly, the swirling colors are reminiscent of the rarest paints coalescing into a beautiful, glimmering, saccharine treat. why, his tastebuds practically tingle with the urge to lap at the boozy sweetness and satiate a curiosity for strange foods he's never had.

but if its not from the fruit of his own garden…well.

yohan smiles, a short and tight thing, tossing his glass’ contents over his shoulder. “ cheers. ”