#trash talk

itoshi rin

rin’s in the middle of scrolling on his phone when you decide to run the prank. 

“hey little one, can you take the trash out?” your child, in perfect deadpan: “shut up.” 

rin freezes like someone hit pause. 

slow turn. eyes narrow. 

“... what did you just say to your mom?” 

his tone is calm, but dangerous – the one that makes you feel like you’re about to be interrogated under a single hanging lightbulb. 

your kid starts sweating because rin’s intimidation aura is real. 

he stands up, walks over, and crouches down so he’s eye level. “you think you can talk like that to her? try again.” 

at this point, you’re snorting into your sleeve, and rin instantly clocks you. “... wait. this is one of your dumb tik tok things, isn’t it?” 

you burst out laughing, and your kid joins in. rin just stares at both of you, completely unamused. 

“don’t ever teach them something like that again,” he mutters, kissing your head anyway because he’s weak for you. 

later that night, you overhear him telling your kid: “next time, tell her to take her turn with the trash. let’s see how she reacts.” 

nagi seishiro

you and your kid have been planning this all morning, and nagi has no idea. 

he’s on the couch, in full blanket burrito mode, playing a game. 

“hey bubs, can you take the trash out?” “shut up, mom.” 

nagi pauses the game. 

if you know nagi, you know this is a big deal. 

he turns his head slowly, looks at your kid, then at you, then back to your kid. 

“… that’s so much effort to say something like that.” 

you’re expecting him to be mad, but instead, he just blinks and says, “nah, you take it out. it’s too much work to fight about it.” 

you and your kid are trying so hard not to laugh because his lack of reaction is throwing the prank off. 

then five minutes later, he shuffles over and whispers to you, “... that wasn’t real, right?” 

when you tell him it was a prank, he sighs in relief, wraps himself in the blanket tighter, and says, “good. i don’t wanna deal with all that parenting stuff right now.” 

still makes the kid take out the trash. 

shidou ryusei

the perfect victim. 

“hey, can you take the trash out?” “shut up, mom!” 

shidou’s head whips around so fast you hear his neck crack. 

“HOOO? what the hell did you just say to your mom?” 

he’s already standing, eyes wide, dramatic as hell. 

“nah, nah, nah, i KNOW i didn’t just hear you tell her to shut up like she’s one of your friends. come over here right now.” 

he’s ranting, but in that loud, chaotic, walking-in-circles way, like he’s about to roast a referee. 

“do you pay bills here? no? then your mouth better be saying ‘yes ma’am’ real quick.” 

you’re shaking with laughter at this point, and your kid’s struggling to keep a straight face. 

when you finally say it’s a prank, shidou just grins. 

“… good one. but now it’s my turn.” 

you should be scared, because shidou’s prank ideas always involve fake tattoos, fake injuries, or actual chaos. 

mikage reo

you and your kid plan this while reo’s in his home office. 

you wait until he’s passing through the kitchen for a drink. 

“hey, can you take the trash out?” “shut up.” 

reo literally gasps. 

drops his water bottle on the counter, clutches his chest. 

“ohhh, no. no, no, no. not in this house.” 

he crouches down to your kid’s height and says, “listen, we love each other in this house. we respect each other in this house. and most importantly… we don’t talk to mommy like that, ever.” 

his disappointed face is so convincing that your kid actually looks guilty for a second. 

you have to step in and tell him it’s a prank before reo starts giving them a “respect is the foundation of relationships” speech. 

reo just stares at you both, sighs, and then hugs you. 

“you seriously scared me. i was about to put them in etiquette classes.” 

karasu tabito

karasu’s brewing his morning coffee when you set your prank in motion. 

“kid, take out the trash.” your kid, with mock defiance, responds with: “shut up.” 

karasu turns slowly, eyes dark and amused, but with that low-key threatening vibe. 

“oh, you wanna play that game?” 

he puts down his mug, folds his arms, and smirks just slightly. 

“bold choice. not many have the guts.” 

your kid tries to keep a straight face, but you can see the nerves bubbling. 

karasu steps closer, voice dripping with dry sarcasm, “i’ll give ya a tip: next time, choose yer words carefully.” 

then almost as an afterthought, he adds, “or i’ll start calling ya ‘trash’ instead of making ya take it out.” 

you’re both laughing, but karasu’s face stays perfectly deadpan, which somehow makes it even funnier. 

after the reveal, he just shrugs, “the two of ya are insufferable, but that’s why i love ya.” 

he spends the rest of the day teasing your kid about how “dangerous” they are. 

kaiser michael

kaiser’s in his usual calm, collected zone – probably analyzing some complex strategy or just silently judging everyone. 

you say to your kid, “take out the trash, please.” “shut up.” 

the room goes completely silent. even the clock seems to pause. 

kaiser’s eyes flicker with a cold fire, the kind that screams don’t test me. 

he stands smoothly, voice calm, but icy: “you just tested my patience.” 

he steps closer, and you can feel the weight of his stare like a laser cutting through your kid’s confidence. 

“disrespecting your mother in this household? not tolerated.” 

your kid gulps, starts trying to backpedal, but kaiser holds up a hand. 

“no need. it’s a teachable moment.” 

he sits down beside them, voice dropping to that measured tone that makes every word land like a verdict. 

“respect isn’t given because it’s easy. it’s earned and demanded.” 

you’re trying so hard not to laugh because his entire lecture sounds like a TED talk on dominance. but you’re proud that he’s matured so much since you started dating him. 

after you spill the prank, kaiser doesn’t crack a smile immediately, he just nods slowly. 

“well-played. but be warned! pranks with me as the target? they come with consequences.” 

and you know those consequences are less “timeout” and more “psychological warfare.” 

itoshi sae

sae’s quietly reading a book when the prank goes down. 

“go take out the trash.” “shut up, mom.” 

sae doesn’t even look up at first. just sighs heavily and closes his book. 

“that’s it.” 

he stands up slowly, walks over, and squats down calmly in front of your kid. 

“listen. i don’t like raising my voice. but you just made me lose my temper.” 

your kid swallows nervously. you’re biting your lip trying not to laugh. 

sae’s voice drops to that low, serious tone you don’t wanna hear if you’re in trouble. 

“you don’t say that to your mom. ever. unless you wanna spend a week helping me with chores.” 

then he looks over at you with the tiniest smirk and says, “you and her are terrible influences.” 

when you reveal the prank, sae just shakes his head and mutters, “you two are impossible.”