To commemorate the reopening of the Greenhouse(this blog)! I'm gonna write headcanons for our favorite dying writer!
Tsuzuru definitely has a Tumblr that he off and on uses and has the most radical headcanons that don't make sense at first, but as you read it, you start to agree more
NSFW...kinda
My self-indulgent Omi drabble because I can
Omi tucks you to bed and kisses you gently with his soft lips, caresses your body with his calloused hands, and gazes at you passionately with his amber-colored eyes. You stared back at him, running your hand through his short brown hair, to his face, scar, neck, down to his toned chest. You then hugged him tightly, your warm lips pressed against his ear then you whispered "I love you". He smiled softly, touches your face, ran his fingertips through it down to your jaw, then kisses you passionately.
-
He wakes you up with a kiss on the forehead. He then gets up and you wake up to the sight of his wide and muscled back gleaming beneath the sunlight. You thought his bed hair was really sexy and you can't wait to run your hand through it again. He suddenly looked at you with a smirk as he talked in a husky voice.
"Can I eat you for breakfast?"
Chore Chart? We Don’t Need No Steenking Chore Chart!
Fandom: A3!
Characters: All Troupes
Warnings: A little swearing, otherwise this is a totally clean fic. Pun intended.
Genre: fluff/slice of life
Words: 5K (help, I’m crazy)
Generally speaking, all of the boys are responsible for keeping their personal rooms neat. And once a month there’s a dorm-wide deep-clean of bedrooms that includes vacuuming, washing the windows, wiping down the baseboards, clearing out cobwebby corners, etc, etc. And then Sakyo inspects your room, and woe to you if you don’t meet his standards. (This wasn’t how things started, btw, but after SOMEONE (cough.Itaru.cough) kept eating during all-night gaming sessions and then not cleaning up, the dorm got ants before opening night of Romeo and Julius.) Sakyo actually inspects weekly, but that’s a quick glance-around to make sure things are neat and nothing is broken. Everyone is also responsible for their own laundry, but that’s kind of a given since no one wants to deal with anyone else’s dirty clothes.
The issue, though, is the rest of the dorm. They have cleaners for the actual theatre, and part of rehearsal time in the practice rooms involves a quick sweep and mirror-clean. No, the problem is the common areas of the dorm building. Mankai funds don’t extend to a weekly housekeeper. In order to keep the dorm actually clean and running smoothly, Izumi starts a rotating chore chart. This…kind of works. Eventually, everyone winds up with a steady chore instead of rotating between them all. The only additional problem was SOME people (cough.Itaru.cough) simply conning others to do their chores. Eventually, Izumi had to make a rule that anyone taking on someone else’s chores gets paid by the original chore-holder. This eliminated a lot of the issues with people taking advantage of the people-pleasers in the company.
(Twice a year, they also do some major deep-cleaning as a whole crew. Loud music, dancing with the mops and brooms, the smell of lemon pledge and floor-cleaner. The whole deal. Everything gets taken out of drawers and evaluated, tons of things get chucked, and every single thing in the dorm is cleaned. No one will admit they have fun doing it, but everyone admits they like how the dorm feels when they’re done.)
As for their assigned chores…..
Spring Troupe:
Sakuya: A lot of the families he stayed with wound up using him as free labor, so he knows how to do all of the surface stuff. He loves Mankai and would probably take on half the chores himself if everyone let him. (This is why we have chore charts, Sakuya.) He’s so good-natured that even Itaru kind of feels bad taking advantage of his goodwill, but Sakuya is savvier than they all think. He uses the chores to make a few bucks a week - but only for people who are overwhelmed or busy or sick. During midterms and finals, he rakes in the dough. His own weekly chore is window washing. There are a LOT of windows in the dorms, so this is a heck of a job. He LOVES it. Something about leaving the windows perfectly sparkling just makes him completely happy. He gets to walk through the whole dorm, winds up chatting with everyone. It takes a few hours, but he smiles every time he sees the sun shining through the glass. The combination of socializing and taking care of his home and feeling like he did a good job that people appreciate is almost a drug to him.
Masumi: Rich kid had housekeepers, so even learning to clean is a challenge. Izumi has to suck it up and teach him, but at least he catches on real quick and realizes that a clean dorm makes her happy. Like Sakuya, now he has to stick to the chore chart to avoid him cleaning everything for free. Except Sakuya just wants his friends to be happy and his home to be clean, and Masumi wants to be able to tell Izumi that he cleaned the entire dorm for her. Because he’ll do anything so long as it gets him praise from Izumi, he’s eventually put on washing dishes. It’s a daily chore instead of a weekly one, so he can show Izumi every day how much he loves her! Everyone is responsible for getting their own plates into the dishwasher, but he’s in charge of the pots and pans from cooking. He starts this because it allows him to stay in the kitchen with Izumi while she cleans up, but he keeps doing it once Omi joins the troupe and takes over the cooking. Omi is one of the few people he really likes (usually). Masumi is meticulous about his washing because anything less than perfection is unacceptable when the target of his obsession affection is at stake, so all of the kitchen gear is usually spotless. Omi winds up taking Masumi under his wing and teaching him a lot about cooking - and Masumi actually enjoys it when Omi teaches him how to season a cast-iron skillet.
Tsuzuru: Between his part-time jobs, scriptwriting, college classes, wrangling spring troupe into something resembling good behavior, and the actual acting, Tsuzuru is already busy 24/7. He wants to help, he really does. He spent his early years cleaning and his teenage years teaching and encouraging his younger brothers to take care of the house. But he’s just…so….tired. He’s one of the only ones that Izumi and Sakyo take pity on when it comes to the chore list. His job is mostly to “help a bit” if he sees someone struggling or confused over their chore (which, let’s face it, he’d do anyway). And, so it doesn’t look too much like favoritism, he spends one day a month clearing out and reorganizing the prop storage with a few of the others. He actually really likes this, because looking at all the old props gives him a lot of ideas for future scripts. He also sometimes does other people’s chores for cash when he has time. Unlike Sakuya, he doesn’t discriminate - money is money.
Itaru: “F!” The only way you’re getting this guy to do chores is if it’s something he can do while using up energy in one of his games. So things like cleaning the bathroom are out (wet hands and buckets of water plus his phone equals disaster). In the beginning, he was one of the ones who paid Tsuzuru, Sakuya, and literally anyone else to do his chores until Izumi said he wasn’t allowed to be a lazy shit and leech off others. He had to try his hand at every single chore and pick one. And then he had to stick to it unless there were extenuating circumstances, like illness or a business trip. Eventually, he settles into vacuuming and dusting. It doesn’t hurt the cleaning at all if he stops vacuuming for five minutes to set up another battle and then goes back to it. Same with the dusting. There’s a lot of rugs in the main dorms, and a lot of knickknacks to dust. With how often he stops to take care of his games, he winds up taking HOURS to do his job - but it gets done. And he REALLY likes the feeling of freshly vacuumed rug under his bare feet.
Citron: He’s a prince, so he’s never done a minute of housework in his entire life. But it’s all new and so much fun to learn! The problem is that he’s terrible at it. After months of badly washed dishes, freshly-swept floors that still crunch with grit, and gardens where the grass is high, the flowers have been clipped off, and everyone actually gets to see Tsumugi angry enough to yell, Sakyo finally relegates him to grocery shopping. That’s…that’s it. It’s the only thing he can be trusted to do on his own without screwing it up. And only the farmer’s market. He charms the madams and gets them deals, so that helps everyone. He’s also part of the “can be tagged to help” team for almost any heavy chore…so long as someone else is supervising.
Chikage: Doesn’t seem to like cleaning, but he really appreciates having a home and endeavors to keep that home clean. He’s really good at picking up after himself around the dorm and you’ll NEVER find anything of his left out of its spot. Because of his day job, he has most of his free time on the weekends, so that’s when he does his part for the dorm. Part of his job is to go around the dorm and make sure all the pictures, flyers, etc, are straight on the walls. He also does the weekly possession round-up. Everyone knows that on Sundays, the dorms need to be immaculate for Sakyo’s inspections. So, on Saturday nights (early Sunday mornings if he’s got a Saturday night performance), Chikage goes through the dorms and rounds up any stray items and delivers them into the rooms of their owners. He somehow knows who every single item belongs to, even if it’s something as impersonal as a yellow pencil. It’s kind of creepy.
Summer Troupe:
Tenma: Another rich kid who’s never done anything resembling manual labor in his life. Starts to put up a fuss (“Don’t we have staff for this?”) until Yuki calls him an incompetent, stupid child for being unable to turn on a vacuum. He tries his hand at everything, but his head just isn’t in it. He’s almost as bad at housework as he is at getting somewhere without getting lost. He’s all about delivering perfection, and housework (especially in a huge dorm like this) will never be perfect. It frustrates him. He gets something perfectly clean, and ten minutes later it’s messed up again. He’s so obsessed with keeping the areas he’s responsible for clean that he winds up starting even more fights. After one bad shouting match with Yuki, Izumi tells him to take a walk while she thinks. He goes to storm out of the dorm but, while getting his shoes, he randomly straightens the rest. Because of his desire for perfection and his love of traditional Japanese spaces, he winds up being in charge of the entrance area. Every night, he sorts out the jumble of shoes and slippers that collect by the door. He finds the mates for every stray shoe, sets them up neatly, and makes sure that dorm member slippers are separated from guest slippers. Somehow, it reminds him of his bonsais. Woe to you if you mess up his system.
Yuki: Where else would you put Yuki, except in charge of the costumes? Like Tsuzuru, he’s dealing with school and acting AND the additional work of costume designer, creator, and master. Asking him to do dishes or whatever on top of it seems excessive. So, like Tsuzuru, once a month he deals with the costume/fabric room. He reorganizes it, inspects everything for damage by mice or moths, mentally catalogs what’s already available to him for the future, and uses it as inspiration. This doesn’t sound like it should be too bad, but he’s constantly rearranging the fabric section. Sometimes he sorts things by fabric content, sometimes by the weight and drape, sometimes by color. It’s why no one asks to help him - one wrong move and he’ll snarl at you. He also airs out the older costumes, makes sure everything is stored correctly based on its fabric content, and draws designs of his ideal costume storage area to spring on Sakyo for funding. He’s also an assistant in the strange housekeeping category called “atmosphere.”
Muku: He’s one of the ones it was easy for the others to take advantage of, before Izumi’s payment system, because he just wants everyone else to be happy. And he doesn’t believe he deserves leisure time in the same way the others do. He still picks up money doing other people’s chores, but now it’s because it helps fund his manga addiction. However, he never does the chores…right. Like Itaru, he struggles to keep his mind on the task he’s performing, but with him it’s because his imagination runs wild. In his head, he’s playing the role of the lowly peasant cleaning the floors of the princess’ palace, catching glimpses of her and wishing he could express his love, and before he knows it he’s trying to mop the couch or about to mix bleach and ammonia. Sakyo eventually makes him dorm librarian, which isn’t exactly a housekeeping chore, but it suits him. It also keeps him away from the cleaning chemicals. There’s a lot of books and scripts in the dorm, and someone is always looking for one right at the time someone else has it. So Muku keeps a log online of who has what, and he updates it about once a week. Due to his strength, he’s also an Assistant Heavy-Thing-Mover.
Misumi: Mostly he’s responsible for cleaning anything above shoulder-height. Misumi’s the one who dusts the tops of shelves or the blades of the ceiling fan. He cleans out the cobwebs in the corners of the 12-foot ceilings. Without a ladder. He’s also the one who cleans his own footprints off the walls. He doesn’t have a set schedule, but he always wants to do the best job he can so he cleans frequently. Additionally, any time someone finds a small triangle, they hide it where he’ll only find it while cleaning. It makes everyone nearby smile when they hear the cry of “Sankaku! Sankaku!” And suddenly Misumi shows up and tells them the story of how he found an onigiri eraser while dusting. (He knows troupe members are leaving him little gifts, and he loves them for it. The joy of finding a triangle is just as important as the triangle itself, and he loves them all for knowing that.) He’s the second Assistant Heavy-Thing-Mover, and he also picks up extra cash doing extra chores sometimes.
Kazunari: He’s big on presentation and the appearance of things, so it’s no surprise that he’s actually neat. He’s unfortunately also trying to see everything as art, or off in his own social-media-la-la-land, so it’s hard to pin him down and get him to clean sometimes. He winds up being the Master of Stain Removal. You’d think that would be Yuki - and Kazunari does sometimes go to Yuki for specific issues - but he’s had to get so many different art supplies out of so many different fabrics that he’s actually pretty good at it already. Most of what he doesn’t know, he can find a video for on YouTube. He’s actually started a second Insta account for his stain removal videos, and it has a significant following. He helps the boys with stains in their laundry, takes care of the couches when someone spills something, and deals with issues with the carpets. Although this isn’t a “chore” the way, say, dusting is, it takes up the same amount of time and keeps the dorms looking fresh. He likes being needed, and every time someone compliments him and shows him a previously ruined shirt that looks new again, he feels cared about in a way he usually doesn’t.
Kumon: He’s pretty decent at all chores. He always had chores at home and he’s big into health, so he knows that a clean environment is part of maintaining a healthy body. He floats around, doing all the random, leftover chores on the chart every week. Until the flu hits Mankai. Because of his obsessive mask-wearing and hand-sanitizer use the second anyone so much as sneezes, he’s one of the few to escape getting sick. He spends his days sanitizing everything that’s high-touch - light switches, doorknobs, the handle on the fridge…it reaches a point where whenever anyone who’s sick walks through the dorm, he’s following them around and spraying anything they touch and wiping it down. (It annoys the absolute shit out of Banri. Only knowing he’s too sick to fight Juza right now keeps him from deliberately coughing in Hyodo Jr.’s face.) Sanitizing of high-touch areas becomes Kumon’s daily job, and he actually really enjoys doing it. (He thinks things like Lysol wipes are too wasteful, though, and he has his own spray bottle of homemade cleaner that he uses along with washable microfiber cloths.) He’s especially happy the next flu season when Izumi points out to him that only three people got sick, and they’re three of the people who work with the public regularly. She credits a lot of the health in the dorms to Kumon.
Autumn Troupe:
Banri & Juza: They got into a fight in the bathroom once, not long after they joined Mankai. By the end of the fight, one shower head was broken, water had soaked the entire room, there was blood in the towels, and, inexplicably, shaving cream all over the floor. After patching them up, it was surprisingly Izumi who read them the riot act and stood over them while they cleaned the bathroom and Omi replaced the shower head. Banri’s another rich kid who’s never done manual labor, but he picks up on everything instantly - even cleaning. Juza (like Kumon, duh) had chores at home, so this isn’t new to him. A few hours later, the bathroom was spotlessly clean. For awhile, every time they fought, they got assigned the communal bathrooms. Eventually, they just got assigned the bathrooms. Izumi saw it as a great way to get the bathrooms cleaned regularly, and Sakyo saw it as a team-building exercise. It actually worked - they wind up talking (okay, mostly snarking) while they’re cleaning (what else is there to do, right?) and the few hours a week they spend doing this chore do a LOT towards getting them to tolerate each other.
Taichi: He’s another one with more enthusiasm than skill, just in the opposite direction of Citron. Cleaning is a battle in him - he doesn’t want to clean, not at all. Cleaning is boring! But he also wants people to like him, and everyone likes and appreciates the person who cleans! So he leans towards popularity and overdoes everything. Instead of barely washing things, he washes them so hard he breaks them. He’ll spend an hour sweeping a single floor in order to make sure every iota of dust is picked up. This is so ridiculously inefficient that Izumi has to think of something he can do that will employ this meticulous nature. (She’s beyond shocked because one doesn’t normally think “meticulous” when they think about Taichi!) His job eventually becomes polishing and cleaning the wood furniture. He likes the smell of the wax and rubbing the product deep into the wood to produce a shine is oddly calming for his brain. He gets positively lost in the task. He does a couple of rooms every weekend after Itaru has finished the vacuuming and dusting.
Omi: Once everyone realized who the cook in the company was, no one else wanted to take the job. No matter what they cooked, there were complaints. The job of cooking then becomes a confusing mix of Izumi and her Curry Hell, and Omi, who can cook anything. So…the man cooks. He also does some of the shopping (he gets the essentials while Citron gets the farmer’s market stuff). He also makes sure the dishwasher is running at night and puts the dishes away in the morning. He also makes up plates and bento boxes out of leftovers for anyone who needs a lunch at work, or anyone who missed dinner. He ALSO cleans out the fridge once a week to make sure nothing starts growing in there. HE ALSO cleans out the cabinets during the deep cleans, making sure there’s no bugs in the flour and everything is clean and organized. A lot of the time, he winds up doing other people’s chores by accident. Someone make this man take a break.
Sakyo: I mean…we know the guy can clean. He’s too meticulous and organized to tolerate a dirty living space. But at this point, handling the finances of the dorms takes up a lot of his time. Add in his weekly, monthly, and biannual dorm and theatre inspections, and he’s pretty busy. But because he doesn’t trust anyone else with the company’s money, he’s also the main dorm shopper. He’s the guy you see at the warehouse stores trailing a bunch of teenagers and five carts worth of stuff. It takes a lot of time and planning to keep a dorm with 26 people in it stocked with things like toilet paper, paper towels, canned goods, drinks, and so forth. Then all of that stuff has to get transported home and then put away. The man’s old, give him a break. (Not really, but he thinks he is.)
Azami: Another rich kid, but if you think Sakyo didn’t make him do chores when he was younger, you’re crazy. At this point, he refuses to do anything that can cause skin damage, so no working outdoors or doing dishes for him. He tries to convince Sakyo that monitoring everyone’s skin care regimen should count as a chore. Sakyo doesn’t buy it. One day, after an absolutely BLAZING argument, Azami is told to inventory the dorm supplies. Just to be a little shit, he documents EVERYTHING in the dorms, down to the picture frames. Which are separate from the pictures inside them. This backfires, because Sakyo decides his permanent chore is to keep up with this inventory list. Out of spite, Azami tries to mess with it once or twice, but regrets it immensely when the dorm runs out of toilet paper during one of Izumi’s Curry Marathons. After that, he maintains the list regularly. Obviously things like the picture frames don’t need to be updated much, but knowing if they actually have a 10lb bag of rice in the pantry or if that got used last week is important. In the end, he kind of likes the responsibility and the feeling of taking care of the others. He hates the fact that he’s basically Sakyo’s assistant. (He will NEVER admit that he also kind of…likes…the fact that he’s Sakyo’s assistant.)
Winter Troupe:
Tsumugi: Izumi doesn’t have to lift a finger to get Tsumugi to contribute. He actually asks permission to basically take over the garden, and she is more than happy to not have to fight with a bunch of teenagers over mowing the lawn. So Tsumugi smiles and goes back to his element. He takes care of the flowers, obviously, but also keeps the lawns mowed (with Tasuku’s help), the mulch fresh, the trees lightly pruned, and so forth. One of the guys tries to object one winter, stating that once the leaves fall off the trees, there’s nothing left to do and Tsumugi basically gets the winter off. Tsumugi takes the next weekend to teach the objector exactly how much work goes into a winter garden - especially one that is still in use and should be attractive. Keep in mind, he also grows food. You can grow beets, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, and tons of other things in the cooler months. That’s not even to mention the number of decorative plants that grow well in winter. In fact, just to teach everyone a bit of a lesson, mischievous Tsumugi shanghais the whole dorm into helping him set up for spring. Gardening is no joke.
Tasuku: He likes routine, which is ironic considering he has the least-routine set of chores. The only chore he does regularly is taking out the garbage on his way out the door for his morning run. Otherwise, he occupies the position of Head Heavy-Thing-Mover. He’s also Mr. Fix-It. So he tends not to be called on unless something heavy needs to be moved, or something needs to be fixed. Given how often something is happening in the dorms, he’s got something to do almost every day, but it’s never the same thing. He kind of hates getting pulled away from what he’s doing every time one of those two things comes up - but his bruised sense of companionship is pleased that someone needs him and thinks to call on him instead of struggling by themselves. He kind of wishes he knew how to tell them that, because everyone (except Tsumugi) seems reluctant to approach him, and some of them, in the beginning, seem downright terrified. If he has nothing else to do, he winds up helping Tsumugi in the garden. He can barely tell the difference between a weed and some decorative grass, but he can haul mulch, mow the lawn, and follow directions. He also cleans the gutters a few times a year.
Hisoka: Uh…..good luck. He fell asleep while Izumi was explaining the chore chart. Izumi struggles for a long time to find a steady task for Hisoka. He initially resists cleaning at all, but when he sees everyone else contributing he feels bad enough to ask for a task. These people took him off the street and gave him a home, a purpose, and a family. The least he can do is a few chores. (Plus, Homare gives him marshmallows when he finishes something.) Together, he and Izumi try to figure out something he can do that utilizes his speed and agility. The problem is that housework isn’t a speed run, usually, it’s just repetitive and persistent. Izumi considered almost every chore, including the ones that only have to be done a few times a year, like cleaning the oven. Then she pictured Hisoka literally falling asleep with his head in the oven and gave up. Eventually he winds up salting the pavement after any kind of ice or snow, since he doesn’t slip on the ice. Finally Izumi has a brilliant idea and puts him in charge of the household laundry - not the personal laundry, but things like kitchen towels, bathroom rugs, couch blankets and cushion-covers, Kumon’s microfiber cloths, and so on. He can nap during the wash and dry cycles, and folding items like that takes no time at all.
Homare: Yet ANOTHER rich kid who grew up with staff that did the housework for him. It’s actually canon that Izumi had to teach him to clean up after himself. His brilliant idea is just to pay someone to come in and clean for the dorms. It’ll cost nothing! Nothing at all! It’s his gift! But by the time Winter Troupe joins, Izumi has seen the effect of the bathroom cleaning on Banri and Juza and now insists that cleaning the dorm is a team building activity and not to be foisted off on others. (Homare still has someone come in on Saturdays to clean his and Hisoka’s room rather than do it himself.) He considers being a Hisoka-minder his contribution to the dorm, but Izumi disagrees. He tries everything to get out of cleaning, but Izumi is implacable. He’s forced to attempt every chore, but he’s the worst combination of the worst members so far. He’s as bad at cleaning as Citron, as daydreamy as Muku, but he also just vanishes in the middle of whatever he’s doing in order to write a poem. Finally, he declares his contribution to the dorm to be “art.” He gets Juza to calligraphy some of his poems onto scrolls and replaces some of the more staid art with them. He replaces throw pillows that get destroyed. He also (supposedly anonymously, but everyone knows it's him) supplies or replaces things in the dorms for members who don’t have a lot of money. When Sakuya’s desk chair breaks, for instance, he comes home the next day to a new one out of “house funds.” The whole dorm is appreciative, but, much to Homare’s displeasure, Izumi still makes him sweep the front steps every morning. He’s written several poems on indentured servitude.
Azuma: By the time we get to Azuma, Izumi is ready to tear her hair out over half of Winter Troupe’s “contributions” to the dorm. She’s expecting Azuma to be a trial, and he is. He’s as bad as Azami about not wanting to damage his skin, hair, or nails. He’s naturally physically weak, so he can’t join the Heavy-Thing-Mover team. And, frankly, he has absolutely no interest or intention to clean. He winds up paying Homare’s house cleaner to also tackle his room when she comes to do Homare and Hisoka’s. Azuma picks up after himself, makes sure all of his things go back into their homes, cleans up anything he spills, puts his own dishes in the dishwasher, wipes down the sink in the bathroom when he’s done using it, and basically acts as if he’s still living alone. The major problem for Izumi is that he’s a grown-ass man, not a teenager, so she can’t play the adult in this situation and just order him around. She has to negotiate. When Izumi finally gets it through his head that he needs to do stuff for the community he starts to think about it. One day, out on the balcony, the tables are covered in fallen leaves. He brushes them to the floor, but now they look bad and he wants to enjoy this glass of wine in serenity. Without even thinking too much about it, he goes to get a broom and brushes all the leaves on the balcony down into the garden. Congratulations, Azuma, you’re now in charge of the balcony! He keeps it swept, salted in winter, and nicely decorated. He adds colored fairy lights to coordinate with holidays, cons Tasuku into putting up some hanging plants that he then cons Tsumugi into taking care of. He also takes on the role of Master of Atmosphere. He coordinates with Homare and Yuki when things in the dorm need replacing. He also supplies every room with incense burners and scent-diffusers and keeps them fresh and full. It’s a little thing, but the whole dorm is happy, and it reminds Azuma that he’s not alone anymore.
Guy: By the time Guy joins the troupe, pretty much every chore is taken care of. He has no logical objection to any of the tasks that he could be asked to do, and he starts off by jumping in on all of the seasonal tasks, since they tend to require more strength and stamina than simply doing dishes or taking out the garbage. By observing everyone in the dorms and their habits, mannerisms, and ability to focus, he is eventually able to pair them with a seasonal task that suits their strengths. He also makes a calendar, coordinating seasonal tasks to when those people don’t have midterms, finals, or performances. When he brings the list to Izumi and Sakyo, to help improve dorm efficiency, they could both kiss him. Seasonal tasks are always on the list during the big biannual cleanings, but with everything on their plates, things often get left behind or forgotten. Guy is now in charge of all seasonal tasks. He pitches in and helps with them, but mostly he’s just in charge of them. (This organization actually helps him when he opens his bar - it was good practice for scheduling employees and making sure things in the kitchen get cleaned regularly.)
hi hi!! are writing requests open?? if so then i’d like some headcanons for masumi with an s/o who’s izumi’s younger sibling!! if that’s okay!! (the reader can be either male or gender neutral please!!) thank you very much!! also happy fuck tsuzuru friday
did someone say ‘carried away?’ because OH MY GOD i got so carried away with this one, but i’m very proud of it! a lot of the concepts i included are ones very dear to me, and this one made me think of so many silly masumi hcs. i might make another hc list about the massu thoughts i had here but the next request in the inbox is also for masumi, so stay tuned massu fans 🖤
word count: 8625
tags: gender neutral reader, fluff, headcanons + fic, just a little bit of angst, most of this was written at various times between 1-3 am so there’s a few funny hahas in there
summary: Masumi meets the in-laws and Reader makes a new friend. Izumi is delighted at this turn of events.
Izumi’s family visits backstage on the second-to-last night of Charlatan of Oz.
Ms. Tachibana is reserved, but they’re still mother and daughter. No one talks about Yukio. It’s clear to everyone Izumi is the spitting image of her dad as well as what he left behind when he disappeared.
But Ms. Tachibana still breaks into a smile, kisses Izumi on the forehead, and presents her with a bouquet of roses in orange, red and gold like a bright sunset.
(Masumi notes one of the roses, a peach bordering on pink, matches the exact shade of Izumi’s eyes. He’ll have to ask Ms. Tachibana about the species- he has a new goal to save up and buy Izumi 99 roses in the same color.)
The Director introduces her mother first, and Masumi is the first to shake her hand.
“Good evening,” he greeted. Ms. Tachibana is pudgy and warm, and her handshake is firm, but he can feel the beginnings of prominent veins that come with age. “I’m glad you could make it. Did you enjoy our show?”
“It was wonderful,” she said. “You’ve scouted some talented actors, Izumi, not to mention polite. This one respects his elders, unlike some people I know.”
“It was one time, Mom, and I was like three and barely knew what manners were. You can’t blame me for Christmas at Uncle Masahiro’s anymore.”
“What happened on Christmas at Uncle Masahiro’s?” Sakuya asked.
At the same time, Masumi said, “Thank you, Ms. Tachibana. I want to leave a good impression on my future in-laws.”
Yeah, that explained why no one answered Sakuya’s question. Itaru let out a massive “HAH” right next to Chikage’s ear, the latter alarmed but unsure whether to laugh or not.
Tsuzuru went in for the rescue and bowed. “I am so sorry for Masumi’s behavior, I don’t know what got into him. Please forgive him.”
“Oh! So that means you’re Masumi,” Ms. Tachibana said. She elbowed Izumi, whose mouth was pried into a thin, tight-lipped smile, then went to pinch Masumi’s cheeks. He fought the innate urge to shake her off. “Izumi! You didn’t tell me you had such a handsome admirer!”
“That’s a word for it,” Izumi muttered. “Don’t encourage him. Give him even the smallest crumb of hope and he’ll run with it.”
“I love your daughter,” he said. “Can I have your blessing?”
Tsuzuru made a choking noise behind Masumi, but Ms. Tachibana just laughed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. Izumi is way too old for you.”
“I know, but hey,” Izumi whined, suspiciously like American comedian John Mulaney.
“But since you seem like a good boy, I have another kiddo about your age.” She looked over Masumi’s shoulder. “Reader!”
None of the Spring Troupe even noticed them enter the dressing room, save for Citron. They were looking at the prop table as the actor pointed out the cool wizard staves and a half-eaten bag of expired Fritos he found halfway during a show the other day.
Reader cocked their head and approached as Ms. Tachibana beckoned them over. “This is Reader, my youngest. You’ll have better luck with them than you will with Izumi, I can tell you that.”
“But I don’t want anyone else. I want Izumi and nothing could change my love.”
Reader’s mouth formed a big fat O. “Wait, Izu, is this the guy?”
Izumi popped the P in “Yep.”
“Oh,” they said.
Then they giggled. “Oh.”
They gave Masumi a once-over. “Ohhh,” they repeated.
There is nothing in this world that outweighs my love, Masumi thought, but if this kid doesn’t stop staring at me like I’m out of the loop, I’m gonna bash their head in with Citron’s staff.
“Hey, Izu, you tied down a good one,” they said.
“I did not.”
“I better be in the bridal party once you guys pick a date. Hear me out- beach wedding.”
“Reader,” Izumi said calmly. She wore a smile like a customer service worker on the last leg of their shift. “There is no wedding, there is nothing between us, I am single-“ Reader raised their hand to interject- “and I swear on my secret spice blend, if you take that as an opportunity to hook me up with another one of your friends’ siblings- which, by the way, is none of your business and I’m sure your friends know that as well- I’m going to strangle you.”
Reader lowered their hand.
Masumi joined them and held a hand out to Reader. “Thanks for coming to our production. Have we met? It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Masumi, Izumi’s future husband.”
Reader looked Izumi dead in the eye with the biggest shit-eating grin as they shook his hand. “The pleasure’s all mine. Treat my sister well, okay?”
Izumi buried her head in her hands.
Masumi’s on cloud nine after introducing himself to you. After all, you said you were expecting a wedding, right? How could he not be happy about that?
The Tachibanas stay in town for a few days to watch the last showing of Charlatan, then spend some time with the eldest daughter. They don’t say hello backstage, but that is… fine, actually.
He sees you once again that night for dinner at the dorms, though. You mention offhandedly you missed Izumi’s curry, and he relates to that. He’s blessed to have the perfect woman make him a perfect meal every night, and he’s glad someone else in the dorms can appreciate that, even if only on visiting hours.
The grind stops for no one. Well, it stops a little for Spring Troupe as they recuperate after Charlatan closes, but the next day Izumi is back up and at it with Summer Troupe, running through exercises like a woman on a mission.
For Masumi, though, it’s a lazy morning. All his plans today are to wake up at 12 PM (done), make some toaster waffles (done), and smoke Tsuzuru out of the room with his big-ass speakers so he can enjoy some music in peace.
He’s on his way to his room, munching on some cinnamon toast Eggos when he crosses the practice room. It’s his favorite part of the walk. He doesn’t even need to listen specifically to hear dramatic lines, Izumi’s sweet voice, and… math rock?
Lounging beside the door was Reader, a folder perched along your legs as you worked on some homework. Beside you was your phone, connected to you by earbuds in your favorite color.
You were immersed in your homework, but Masumi just had to ask. The song blasting through your earbuds was from an independent band he recently found, and he’d never met anyone else listening to it.
You feel something nudge you and you jump, but you’re relieved when you realize it’s Izumi’s loyal follower. As much as she complains about the guy, he doesn’t seem to be much of a threat to you.
The unfamiliarity is palpable as the conversation starts, but once you hear the band’s name, you’re glowing. You’ve been listening to them since their first EP, and you’ve finally got a willing audience to listen to you and why you love them so much!
You know the discography like the back of your hand, while Masumi’s a new listener, so in a lull in the conversation you skip to a new song and offer an earbud. “Hey, listen to this. Super underrated.”
He takes the earbud and sits down beside you. His arm brushes against your sleeve from close proximity. The song is sparse and dissonant. You said it was one of the most vulnerable, heartfelt pieces the band’s created, and it shows; the vocals are at a whisper and the guitar acoustic as wind effects outweigh the actual melody-
Whatever lovely trance Masumi found himself in, it was broken the second the practice room door slammed open and Kazunari strode out, Summer Troupe in tow. “Hey, it’s Massu and E-Reader! Whatcha doing out here alone?”
“Woaaaaah, look at all those papers, Reader! Were you camping out here or something?”
“I bet they were looking for triangles!”
“Wait, Masumi, were you helping Reader with homework? That’s just like the latest chapter in- eek! Actually, how about I leave now so you don’t have to deal with a third-rate third wheel like me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Muku. Izumi’s inside, so if you were looking for her, you came to the right place. No need to be shy.”
“Shut it, hack, did you even consider that they didn’t want to interrupt practice?”
Leave it to Summer Troupe to instantly kill the mood.
You made small talk with Summer Troupe while Masumi stuck to the sidelines, not interested in the conversation but refusing to leave without the name of that song.
By the time the actors left, you handed Masumi your phone.
Masumi checked the now playing feature on your phone, his mind reading the song title over and over again. Once he got back to his room, he’d do this track justice by listening to it beginning to end with one of his high-end headphones.
“Give me your phone number,” you said. “Please?”
He’s used to random students asking him out of the blue for his number or socials, but never one that seemed as cool as you, or at least as cool as your music taste suggested. “Why?”
You shrugged. “It’s what friends do, isn’t it?”
Hell yeah. Izumi was going to be so proud that her future husband and sibling were friends.
Masumi’s eyes were straight on the phone screen as he made a contact for you, but you couldn’t help but feel a little prideful for getting along so well with one of the most standoffish members of Mankai Company.
You return home, but you make good use of Masumi’s number. Your text threads aren’t much for conversation, but you both send links to music videos to each other.
“check out this band! [link] i saw them live last time they toured and they were amazing afskshsla”
“cool. think youd like this. [link]”
You can’t pinpoint when it started exactly, but over time you and Masumi get comfortable enough to just call each other and talk about whatever. He becomes a steady, reliable friend that never judges you for anything and always chills you out.
You come to more and more of Mankai’s shows with or without Ms. Tachibana, and always show up for two or more of Spring Troupe’s performances.
For Harugaoka Quartet, you decide to drop by backstage on opening night and congratulate everyone-
-but Masumi’s the one that ends up on the receiving end of your bouquet of flowers, all of them big and pale purple.
You say it’s to celebrate nailing the a lead role, but he can’t help but notice Citron doesn’t have a single flower from you.
Both of you spend all your time just talking as everyone decompresses from the play. Even though it’s been a while since you last saw each other, you don’t need to catch up- you guys talk so much, you already know where you’re going to college at, problems and interests, everything.
You leave late when the theater’s about to close for the night and the actors are packing up props.
You hug him goodbye, and he watches and waves you off as you leave. It’s always a bummer to see you go, but your personality always leaves a warmth that he clings onto.
“Ah-hem. Masumi?”
What? Huh? Who was that? Masumi surveyed the room, forgetting where he was. Where was he?
“Boo!”
“Gah!” Masumi recoiled as Citron grasped his shoulders from behind, a mischievous smirk on his face. Masumi’s breath hitched in his throat, but he brushed off the shock with a huff. “Don’t do that. Try it again and I’ll kill you.”
“But I called your name so many times! I was starting to get lonely.”
“Then just walk in front of me or tug on my sleeve like a normal person. Or even better, go bug Tsuzuru instead. What do you want?”
“Director wants us to check the soundboard before she locks the theater. You wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would you?”
Well, of course not. Izumi was the one that dragged Masumi into a new family and a new passion, and he respected her deeply for it, but the reverence he once reserved only for her was dwindling. Maybe he was feeling unwell?
Whatever it was, he nodded, still holding your bouquet close to his chest. They certainly weren’t his first bouquet, and every actor usually got one or two by the end of a production, but they weren’t yours. Yours were his favorite color.
Citron led him into the wings of the stage. The curtains were already drawn and the house lights gleamed through the gaps between fabric and wood.
“Reader gave you those flowers, yes?” Citron asked as they approached the tech booth.
Masumi’s grip on the bouquet tightened on instinct. “They’re mine.”
“Of course! I would never dream of taking them. But have you thought about what you will say to Reader?”
“What?”
“You are a smart boy! You know what I mean. Do what feels right to you, but I think you should say yes.”
“What?” Masumi repeated, even more lost than before.
Citron’s face fell. “Keep your kangaroos! Haven’t you noticed?”
“It’s ‘hold your horses.’ And seriously, what? I have no idea what this conversation’s about.”
“Oh,” Citron said.
Then he glanced at Masumi’s flowers and how he held them so close to his heart and held a hand to his mouth. It did nothing to cover the pitiful smile on his lips.
“Oh,” he repeated.
“If you keep staring at me like I’m out of the loop, I’m going to go to the storage room just to dig up your staff from Charlatan and beat you with it.”
“But you are out of the- do you truly not know?”
“What are you talking about,” Masumi hissed.
“It’s about how-” Citron combed through his long blond hair with his fingers as words escaped him. “Let me be blunt. Are you in love with the Director?”
“She’s the love of my life.”
“Think. Just for a moment. Why do you love her?”
“Everything about her is perfect.”
“I want specifics, Masumi.”
“She is…”
Masumi’s mouth went dry. Of all the times when someone was actually interested in his love life, why did it have to be the one time he couldn’t drum up unconditional love?
Think, Masumi. She was pretty. That was the first thing he noticed about Izumi, and what drew him to her, but he wasn’t so shallow he would fall in love just because of looks. He couldn’t say that.
Her curry? Masumi loved her curry. Sometimes he would wake up and think, Day 482 of eating curry for at least one meal. I haven’t gotten jaundice yet. It was delicious and enough to make Gordon Ramsay cry tears of joy if he were real, but again, not something to fall head over heels over, even if he’d willingly eat it for the rest of his life. He couldn’t say that either.
But Citron was still watching him owlishly, curling a lock of hair through his finger and expecting an answer.
“Izumi was the one that gave me a chance,” he settled on. “She was the first person that taught me how to care for people other than myself.”
“That is very sweet,” Citron said.
But he didn’t say anything else. Masumi wondered if he was unsatisfied.
“She also showed me how to act. I found something to dedicate myself to.”
“Yes, yes, I see that.”
A lull in the conversation. Citron licked his hand and went back to combing.
“Did you just spit in your hair?”
“It breaks down the hairspray.”
“That is disgusting. Just, so gross on so many levels.”
“It’s- how do you say?” Citron asked as though he indeed knew how one would say. “Whatever!”
“So are you done interrogating me now or can we work on the soundboard already- wait.” Masumi looked around. They stopped walking a while ago, but never registered where exactly in the theater he was. “The soundboard’s on stage left.”
Citron ignored him. “Say, Reader is pretty neat.”
“Yeah, they are. They’re great at listening and so easy to talk to. We’re going to go to a small club gig for a progressive indie rock duo I showed them a while ago in a few weeks and I can’t wait to see them again,” Masumi said.
Citron covered his mouth again, this time to hide a laugh. “Very cool, Masumi.”
“Seriously, why are you acting like you know something I don’t?”
“I do.”
“Then tell me already.”
“No, no, I think it’s your realization to have.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m fine, Citron. if you have something to say about me or the people close to me, then just say it instead of being vague. Do you really think- are you braiding your hair?”
“It leaves very nice waves overnight,” Citron said, halfway through a smooth side braid. The spit, unfortunately, must’ve worked.
“Seriously, you dragged me out to skip on a favor for the Director, talk trash about my beloved and my friend, and keep expecting me to know something you’re just refusing to tell me. What’s your point? If you wanted to know about my life, you could’ve just asked instead of this roundabout conversation. I mean, I talk to Reader all the time, I thought you would’ve known already how close we are-“
Masumi shut his mouth. He blinked. Blinked again. Clicked his tongue like he was about to say something else, but no words came out, and he instead decided to purse his lips like he just ate something sour.
And Citron, ever the enabler, paused his braiding just to watch his junior go through a full slideshow of faces.
Masumi spent a long period of time sticking his tongue in his cheek and staring off into the curtains, lost in thought. Citron had half a mind to make some popcorn, but instead enjoyed the silence. Thinking was a good look for Masumi.
“Oh,” Masumi finally said.
“Just ‘oh?’”
“Shut up. This is serious.” Masumi made a very uncharacteristic groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m so stupid.”
“Not stupid,” Citron said. “Just inexperienced. You’ll get there in time.”
“But I wasted a whole year. What do I do? I’ve never felt this way before.”
“How a door bull!”
“It is not adorable,” Masumi retorted. He covered his face with the bouquet. Violets, his favorite. Dammit, you even remembered that offhand comment from months ago. You were such a good listener. “I- I don’t know. If the Director wasn’t love, then what does that make Reader?”
“If I may? Attraction gives way to love, but love at fistfight isn’t common. You don’t need to make a decision right away. Time will tell.”
“It’s called l-love at first sight. And I don’t want to wait.”
“There is sweetness in taking it slow. No one will judge you for being uncertain as long as you don’t play with emotions.” Citron ruffled Masumi’s hair, the latter too dazed to protest. “And I doubt you would! You’re very genuine.”
“How do you even know all this stuff?”
“I may have never carried a torch for anyone, but everyone carries a torch for me,” he boasted.
“You’re useless,” Masumi deadpanned, hoping it would hide how his heart felt so small and soft. “I’m leaving. I’m not talking to you about this again.”
As he stalked off, Citron called out, “Good luck with your fart puddles!”
“It’s ‘heart troubles!’ Say that again and you’re dead!”
Masumi in love- maybe? He’s not sure what to call it; what he felt for Izumi was real, but the way he sees you is different. All the bravado he had proclaiming his crush on Izumi goes out the window for you.
He likes you, he can admit that to himself, but it’s something he wants to keep a secret to himself for now. It’s nice. He used to think that love was preformative and grandiose and the bigger, the better, but now it’s soft and subtle with him, and he can’t stop thinking about how he wishes you were here.
(Masumi hates to admit it, but maybe Itaru was onto something when he said the best kind of love was unrequited.)
He places your violets on his desk right where the sun hits and asks Tsumugi how to preserve them as long as possible. He checks on them every morning and evening without fail, and can’t help but think of how light he felt when you gave them to him.
Only a day has passed, but he misses you. He scans the audience for you, and when he can’t find you he busies himself with tidying up backstage after the play and hoping you’d come by again.
It’s natural you wouldn’t go to each and every performance. You were busy, and Mankai productions usually lasted a week or more. It’s understandable. But even though he gets it, he’s still the first to enter the theater and last to leave on performance days, and as much as he tries to hide his disappointment, he notices Citron give him sympathetic looks every time his hopes of seeing you again are dashed.
Three days into the week Masumi gets a text from you, wishing him a broken leg tonight. That must mean you’re watching tonight, right? He has to prepare something for you, and he’s excited.
Sure enough, look at seat 4-27 and there you are.
Masumi sees you from behind the curtain ten minutes before showtime. Nervous energy rushes to his head, but a Spring Troupe pre-show huddle steels his nerves and he gives a performance of a lifetime, definitely his best run of the play yet as he’s fully immersed in the world of Harugaoka.
The focus ebbs once he sees you in the audience during the curtain call. He’s a bundle of nerves as Spring Troupe returns backstage, but when he sees you smile and congratulate him again, it all melts away.
There’s no way he doesn’t like you. You’re infectious. He finds himself laughing with you far more than anyone else, and he trusts you beyond words.
You shrugged on your jacket as you got ready to leave again, but Masumi tugged on your arm. “Hey. Before you go.”
“Huh? What’s up-” You turned to face him and caught a big whiff of lavender. Masumi clutched a small bundle of flowers, tall licks of purple buds tied with a twine bow.
“It’s for you.” He scratched his neck with his free hand. “For the flowers last time. Thank you.”
“Oh! No no no, thank you. They smell wonderful.”
“Yeah. I need to tell you something important.” Even just saying that made Masumi’s inner voice recoil and cringe. What a childish way to go about it.
But you perked up, scanned the room, and waved your hand to your sister. “Izu! I’m borrowing Masumi!” You shouted.
Izumi shouted back, “Have him home by midnight!”
“Done deal!” You grabbed Masumi’s hand. “Hey, let’s go outside.”
“Okay,” he said, eyes boring holes into your intertwined hands. Your hand was so soft, and the fingers fit between his knuckles like puzzle pieces. He must’ve been distracted- how else would he explain not remembering the walk at all?
You dragged him to an ice cream parlor a block down from the theater, grabbed one cone for you and a cup for Masumi (“My treat,” you insisted even as Masumi opened his wallet), and plopped yourself across from him in a corner table for two.
“So.” You licked your ice cream. “What’s going on?”
Masumi dug his spoon into his Dutch Chocolate. “I don’t like Izumi anymore.” You hummed and nodded in acknowledgement, and a quiet urge for him to continue. “It’s hard to explain. She was the first person to make me feel like that.” He paused to sink his teeth into a spoonful. “But it was a lot. It didn’t feel real in hindsight.”
You hummed again, this time while swallowing. “I get that. Feelings come and go.”
“I think I was projecting.”
“Mhm?”
“I got so caught up in someone caring about me for the first time that I thought there was no other explanation but love.” Right. You knew about Masumi’s life and the loneliness that came with it, but it still stung to know he was still grappling with the past. “So I just acted like what everyone says love is. I don’t think it was love. A crush, maybe, but not love.” Not love like this. Not like how you’re the only person I could be truly vulnerable around.
He swallowed a spoonful of his ice cream. His cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk as he ate. “So yeah,” he said dismissively, like it wasn’t a huge weight off his chest.
You licked a drop of melting ice cream off your cone, and lowered it to give your best friend your full attention. “Can I be real for a second? That’s great to hear. Changing feelings means you’re growing.”
“You say that like I grew an inch taller,” he quipped.
“It’s still important, though. You learn something new about yourself after every failed relationship or crush, so I’ve heard. Makes you mature or something.”
“So you’re not mad?”
Your face fell. “What? Of course not, why would I be mad?”
“It was your sister. I didn’t want to hurt her.”
“Ohhh.” You relaxed. “She’s tough, and she gets business relationships. I’m sure she’ll get over it.”
“I hope so.”
Masumi’s spoon scraped against the wall of his cup. You weaved a sprig of lavender behind your ear.
“Got any other suitors on the horizon?” You joked.
You. I feel for you. I missed you. I want to be here with you. I wish I could tell you how I feel.
Masumi suddenly stilled. He could tell you how he felt.
After all, you’re alone in an ice cream parlor together. He gave you flowers. He trusted you. You listened to him. The stalk of lavender brushed against your hair and pointed to your eyes, tender and attentive, and the scent was coaxing him to get closer. I want to tell you how I feel.
Citron saw the signs before Masumi himself could, and told him to say yes, yes, yes. He must’ve seen it realistically working out. And you could never look down on him, you were too kind and considerate. Every bone in his body said yes, yes, yes.
“No,” Masumi said. “I’m enjoying the single life.”
“You sound like a regular bachelor,” you teased.
Don’t rock the boat. Don’t ask for more than you deserve.
Masumi shoved his heart into a bottle and let it lie there as he took the safe route.
Masumi led you out of the parlor and into the night streets together. When you were talking about a new movie you saw the other day, you went to grab his hand, and his fingers laced between yours. He escorted you to the train station, made sure you knew your route, and left after the train did, just like a true gentleman.
Then he walked home alone. He knew Veludo Way like the back of his hand, and passed by the bright signs and neon lights. His headphones canceled out the noise of street acts and the lively city as he continued back to the Mankai dorms, but no song played.
He stepped through the doors at 11:43, and Izumi welcomed him back and thanked him for being on time. Tsuzuru was halfway through a bowl of tomato basil soup Masumi could’ve sworn was labeled “taichi’s - DO NOT STEAL!!” and wondered aloud where he was. Citron asked how it went.
The youngest of Spring answered them all with a simple hand wave and “It’s fine,” and didn’t stop walking until he got to his room.
He closed the door, but didn’t flick the light on. He stood there in the dark, headphones blocking out the world for a moment, moonlight shining through the blinds and on the floor.
Masumi buried his face in his hands.
Masumi Usui does not cry. It’s not an issue of vulnerability, but just a part of him. He didn’t cry when his parents ignored him growing up. He didn’t cry when they announced their divorce, or finalized it, or during any of the arguments that led up to it. And though it stung and burned and felt like a paper ripped apart, he didn’t cry as he anticipated his flight from his found family in Mankai to America, not even when all the actors, his grandmother, and one hellbent director came to his rescue at the very last minute.
But something about laying here in his bed like a dead fish, hiding from the world underneath a blanket and squinting as he anticipated tears that would not come, only made it more miserable.
The light turned on, piercing through his barrier of blankets and searing his retinas, and he quietly sucked in air like a hiss.
“Masumi?” That must be Tsuzuru. His sneakers squeaked against the floorboards as the door closed.
Masumi grunted from the pile of blankets.
“Are you okay?” Tsuzuru asked. As the silence stretched on, he added, “Citron wanted me to make sure.”
“Citron can mind his own damn business.”
“You know as well as I do he’s trying to look out for you.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He rolled over and pressed his nose down into his pillow. “Do you ever just have something you want in your grasp but every time you try and make a move for them you always wuss out and it never goes anywhere?”
Ohhh, it’s that kind of conversation. Tsuzuru pursed his lips. This was sounding an awful lot like the impromptu intervention he and Spring Troupe held when his heart broke just before Romeo and Julius, and he had half a mind to fetch Sakuya, but it was late and Masumi definitely didn’t need to be alone right now.
And, well, geez. Masumi just said more in one breath than he did in full conversations. Tsuzuru couldn’t just leave him without feeling like a monster, even if he had good intentions,
Tsuzuru climbed the ladder to his bed, and sat against the wall, not quite next to Masumi but not at the far end of the room, either. “All the time, actually. It’s a common feeling.”
“It still sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.”
The pile of blankets rose and fell in time with Masumi’s silent breathing. Tsuzuru distracted himself with a pen he found in his pocket. He clicked it once, twice, and three times to expose the nib.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.
“No.”
Even with seven younger brothers, comforting never got easier. Tsuzuru dragged the pen along his wrist, leaving a spotty black line along his veins. The line made hard turns and corners as Tsuzuru doodled, and formed a geometric pattern. The blanket monster steadied its breath. “I mean, not about it. But talking is okay.”
“Okay. I can get that.” The ink lulled as Tsuzuru thought up a story, anything to take the pressure off Masumi. “I wasn’t lying when I said it’s a common feeling. It happens to people all the time. When I was your age, I had the opportunity all throughout my school career to join a drama club, but I never got around to it.”
“You’re only two years older than me,” Masumi grumbled.
“It still counts! The point is, I always had a reason not to join every time I really considered auditioning, but they weren’t actual dealbreakers. I could’ve made the time to go to rehearsals and balance it with the rest of my life, but I never did, and I knew my excuses were bull even when I was still in school. I’m grateful I found my place with Mankai Company, but I still wonder how different I would’ve been if I just joined the club.”
The room was eerily quiet. Masumi wasn’t protesting, so Tsuzuru assumed he was on the correct route. “But I’m still here, right? I can’t imagine myself acting anywhere else, so I like to think that the stage is where I’m supposed to be, even if I didn’t get a head start with club activities. I regret avoiding the club, sure, but if I had the choice to start over and audition while I was still in school, I don’t think I would take it.
“Even when you hesitate, you learn something new about yourself, or the world around you. I think avoiding theatre for so long only cemented how much I wanted it in my future, and in the long run? I’m still an actor. And I’m still a scriptwriter. I might’ve chickened out, sure, but my regret is one of the reasons why I’m so determined to help Mankai bloom.”
The blankets grunted in acknowledgement, and parted to reveal Masumi’s head, still face-down in his pillow. He held them close to his body like a security measure. “But I feel helpless.”
“But you’re still in control of yourself, aren’t you? You get to decide what to do.” The bedding around Tsuzuru crinkled as he stretched out. “I don’t know your situation, but whatever you decide on, it’ll still teach you something about yourself, and let you improve yourself.”
“I guess.” Masumi rolled over and clasped his hands over his face. “Reader is just- they’re not perfect, but they’re perfect for me. I feel so comfortable around them. So why can’t I just be honest with them?”
“Wait, hold on.” Tsuzuru, who spent the last few minutes staring at the wall as he talked or drawing on his arm, snapped to look at his roommate. His face colored underneath the cracks of his fingers. “I’m going to be frank. Are you trying to ask Reader out?”
Masumi shot up like a cobra. His hair was disheveled and his blush still apparent, but he looked at Tsuzuru like he casually suggested they should eat a baby, or that a clothing line made of sandpaper was a good idea. “You trying to take them away from me, Minagi?”
“What? No! No way!” Tsuzuru smacked his hands over Masumi’s shoulders. “Everything I just said was important and good advice, but trust me this time. Ignore everything I just said and ask them out. I promise it’s going to work out.”
Masumi gave him a once-over. “You are the last person I want to hear love advice from.”
“Promise on my life. Actually, scratch that, I promise on my laptop and all my backup data. It’ll work out, I swear.”
“Why?”
Tsuzuru stared at the ceiling. “Uhh… It’s not my place to say. But it’s fine. It’ll all be fine. I’ve got your back.” He ruffled Masumi’s hair.
“Try that again and I’ll spoon your eyeballs out.” Masumi said this darkly, but he didn’t move to shake Tsuzuru off, and when his roommate climbed back down the ladder to finish Taichi’s soup, he wrapped the biggest of the blankets back around his shoulders. It enveloped him in down as he struggled to shake off the way his heart was still fluttering.
He had a lot to think about.
Something about that night in the ice cream parlor awakened something in Masumi. Ever since his crush first sprouted, he wanted you to be happy, and that wish never changed.
But he wants to be true to himself, and regarding that, true to you. You were a welcome interruption to the life of acting he was getting used to. He found himself checking your text history together, theorizing your next visit to Veludo Way despite you never uttering a word.
The feeling is strange now. He misses you, and the time you spend together is treasured, but he worries he’s growing too attached to you, like when he was head over heels for Izumi.
It’s because of this that he really decides that he needs to tell you how he feels. Not over-the-top or superfluous like how he handled it with Izumi- he does this on his own terms or not at all.
But there’s still a fear. Not about whether you’ll reciprocate- he’d love to date you but at this point it’s more about being honest to you than being your boyfriend, though he really wouldn’t complain with the latter- but he’s afraid of losing control of himself. He doesn’t want to treat you as a second Izumi.
After all, you’re his dear Reader. Not Izumi. He cherishes everything that makes you unique, and you deserve to be treated as no one else but yourself.
A night at the theater passes. Backstage, Masumi checks his phone in case you decide to come, and doesn’t notice Citron poking his head through the curtain and searching for you.
“Have you decided what to do?” Tsuzuru casually asked one night as the troupe was striking the set, and he and Masumi were carrying a box of props.
“Piss off. It’s none of…” He trailed off as he remembered their conversation the other night. Tsuzuru looked unfazed. “Sorry. Yeah. I’ll do it after closing night.”
Tsuzuru walks off, seemingly satisfied. It wasn’t really a lie, but his plans were far off in the future, and not in two days like the scriptwriter assumed. He couldn’t afford mixing two of the most important things in his life like that.
Saturday, the night before Harugaoka Quartet’s final performance. Masumi was already tucked into bed and checking his Reddit feed for the last time before he fell asleep when his phone vibrated with a text from one of the few people that could override his phone’s Do Not Disturb mode.
“break a leg tomorrow! clear your schedule after the play, i’m kidnapping you for the night”
Whatever drowsiness Masumi was feeling dies in a single shot as he snaps to attention. He’s already typing out a response when he sees the three dots appear on your end of the text app.
“i have something to talk to you abt tomorrow”
And before he can even think of a response to that one-
“FKJFKLAD it isn’t as intense as whatever you’re thinking”
“don’t worry about it”
“it’s not important”
The dots appear again, but it takes more time for Reader to respond this time. “you know how i got an apartment in veludo for yosei uni next term? i’ll show you around my place”
That seems to be the end of Reader’s multitext, and Masumi can’t help but smile as he responds. “k. ill let you know when im free.”
Closing night is a whirlwind, and by the time you pick Masumi up, his adrenaline has died down but the nervous excitement from a show still remains, or maybe that’s just the effect you have on him these days.
But the point is, it’s probably why he was so direct.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Masumi asked.
The neon lights outside rolled along slowly. It was getting late, but traffic was just starting to let up and keep the car’s momentum going. Saturated magenta from a late-night pub sign across the street flashed across the steering wheel and your knuckles.
Green colored your eyes, and the car sped up as you left the block.
“I didn’t expect you to remember that,” you observed.
“You mentioned it.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be memorable.”
“It was you. You literally texted me that directly.”
“I’m not exactly the most memorable person.”
“Well, I remembered,” Masumi said with an air of finality.
You didn’t respond as the car followed a curve on the road, and he took the victory in stride. Then he realized how desperate he sounded. He looked out the window, watching the orange construction reflectors by the side of the road bounce light into the car and onto his embarrassed face in the glass.
That managed to shut him up for not even half a minute. “Seriously. What were you going to say?”
In the time it took for him to recover, you were already pulling into a parking lot. “Lemme show you my apartment first. I’ll get you some snacks and then I’ll explain, alright?”
“Alright,” he said.
But on the elevator, he continued. “You’re acting weird, though.”
“Ouch. I’m almost offended.” You grabbed his hand and led him down the hall as you deadpanned. “I guess you’re right, as much as I hate to admit it.”
“Are you okay?”
“I guess? It’s more of an ‘us’ thing?”
You stuck a key into your door. It swung open, an invitation into your abode. “That’s not exactly confidence-inspiring.”
“Who said I was confident?” The door opened, and you welcomed Masumi into the kitchen. “I’ll get you some hot Cheetos. I got the ones with lime.”
You turned the corner and ducked into a nondescript room. The actor might not know the layout of your apartment, but he was pretty certain that wasn’t your pantry.
Well, at least your apartment was cool. Like every student’s first time living alone, the hallways outside were dingy and the wall damage was unfortunate, but you already started decorating, and traces of you were left around the open area between the kitchen and the living room- a CD here, your chapstick there. A flowery scent permeated the air.
He scanned through your kitchen, from the refrigerator whiteboard reminders to the reusable cups in the drying rack, but his survey was cut short. In the corner of the kitchen counter was the lavender he gave you, poking out of a small glass cup tied with the twine he attached to the original bouquet.
The flowers hadn’t lost their color yet, and the stems stood strong, insisting they would last longer. No wonder why your apartment smelled so nice.
“Isn’t it crazy they’re still alive? I’m not much of a green thumb, so I’m surprised how hardy they are.” Masumi jumped at your voice. You had quietly entered the kitchen and spoke up without him noticing, then opened the door to the pantry and brought out two bags of chips. “Here. I might just be thinking of Autumn’s plays, but I’ve heard acting burns a surprising amount of calories.”
“Thanks.” He took a seat across the counter and in a living space with an L-shaped couch. “Nice place.”
You finally looked at Masumi directly, and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face. “Oh. Thank you. I’ve been working on making it presentable for a few weeks now.”
“It suits you. You did a good job.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you stalling?”
“Just my luck you’d figure it out. Yeah, I am.” You ripped open a bag of Doritos and slumped over the couch. You were right next to Masumi, your arm against his while your head lounged on his shoulder.
“You know you can tell me anything.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s one of those things that’s hard for me to admit to myself, though.” You shut your eyes, as though it would make it any easier. Masumi felt like he was going crazy. You begun to speak, slowly and erratically as you pieced the words together like a puzzle. “Do you think something’s changed between us?”
Masumi’s heart sunk. “What?”
“It’s weird. I don’t know how to describe it, but I feel like we aren’t really just friends, you know?”
“Oh.” He stared into his bag of chips, focused on the folds of cellophane and the dark corners, anything to avoid looking at you. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop talking to you if you want.”
“What? No! That’s not what I meant at all!” You pressed a hand to your head. “Oh, I really messed that one up. I mean, you’re very close to me. I wouldn’t ruin that for the world. I just don’t think ‘friends’ is the word to call us anymore.”
“So we’re more than friends?”
“Yeah. More than friends.”
Masumi nodded with understanding and crunched on a Cheeto. “So we’re best friends.”
“Oh, come on, Masumi,” you groaned and wrapped a hand around Masumi’s cheek. “You’re smart. I think you can figure out what I’m trying to say.”
The actor felt like he was drowning. You were no stranger to casual touching among your friends like Masumi, but even this was pushing it. How was he supposed to keep a cool head while his cheeks were growing warm and here was no way you wouldn’t notice-
Then it all clicked together.
“Reader,” Masumi said. “Do you like me?”
You tensed.
“Because I like you,” he said.
The room was so still.
“A lot, actually.”
Now or never.
“It was hard figuring out everything, and I don’t want to cause any trouble for you, but you should know. I think the world of you and it felt wrong to ignore that, but I don’t want you to think I’m saying this for something in return. I just wanted you to know.”
The words spilled out of his mouth, but he couldn’t find the urge to regret any of it. Everything was true.
“You don’t have to say it back, though. I’m fine where we are, and if you think that’s weird or want to stop being friends, then…” He trailed off. “Then that’s okay.”
“But it’s not,” you said. “It’s not okay. I mean- I feel the same.”
“You like me?’
“You gonna make me say it twice?” Your head lolled further and you looked up at Masumi. As red as he was with your hand along his jawline, you were sure you were even redder. “Yeah. I do.”
“You mean that?”
You drew him forward and kissed him.
You were too caught up in the moment to remember that you’ve never really kissed anyone before, not like this, and the inexperience must be mutual, but Masumi’s hands were on you, feeling your hair and running down your neck and against your chest, and his breath hitched when you pulled him to pin you down, and you relished in it, utterly spellbound.
Your lips slid off his, and rested against his cheek, out of breath but not quite ready to part. “I mean it,” you whispered. “I- I like you too…”
Masumi’s voice was muffled as he rested on your shoulder. “You kissed me but you’re shy about saying that?”
“Oh my god, shut up.”
To his credit, he did. He dove back into your arms, taking the initiative this time, and whatever protests you had died on your lips while your thoughts were only Usui, Usui, Usui.
❖ bonus ❖
“I should probably hang up soon,” you said. “I’m going to the gig soon.”
You laced up your concert boots (well-worn and well-loved, and steel-toed to protect your feet from moshers and dancers), your phone pinned between your ear and shoulder as your sister talked over the phone. “Riiiight. I forgot you were going to a concert-“
“It’s not a concert, Izu,” you shot back. “Concerts are stadium-sized events. This one is just at a small bar venue, so it’s a gig.”
“Same thing. I think he already told you, but Masumi’s on the way to your apartment.”
“I heard. I’ve got a date.”
“Since when did you get a date? Did you tell Masumi?” Izumi sounded worried. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of you and I want to know everything when you get the chance, but I thought it was just going to be the two of you.”
“Yep, just the two of us.”
“But what about your date? Are you meeting them at the venue? That’s not exactly romantic, or considerate- HHOOOUUUGGGHHH.” Izumi gasped.
“Wow, you sound like a broken air mattress.”
“Reader,” Izumi squeaked, holding onto her breath. “Are you dating Masumi?”
You held the phone away from your ear, fully expecting the loudest noise you’d ever hear on the other end of the line. “Uh, yeah?”
…
……
………
Oh. That was disappointing.
You brought the phone back to your ear as Izumi continued, not at all shocked but relieved. “Oh, that’s good. Congratulations! It’s been a long time coming.”
“Thanks. I’m really glad you- wait, what do you mean, ‘long time coming?’”
“You haven’t noticed yet? Almost everyone in Mankai saw it coming.”
You stood to your full height just to glare at a wall. “Seriously? That is so immature.”
“You would too, don’t even lie. If you keep trying to set me up with people, then I reserve the right to tease you over your relationships. I so called it.”
“You are ridiculous. I hate you and I’m going to cut up all your stupid striped T-shirts. How did you even figure it out?”
“You’re kidding me. How do you not?” Izumi laughed. “The second Masumi stopped following me around on his free days, I figured something was up. He’s not very good at hiding his feelings.”
“No, he isn’t! I had to egg him on so he would confess before me.”
“Wait, what? What happened?”
You recounted the beginning of your relationship, without all the raunchy details, and realized Izumi was quietly echoing everything you said. “Are you writing things down?”
“I have a duty to know. There’s a massive betting pool on you two.”
“See?! Ridiculous! That’s so obnoxious!”
“Don’t worry, it’s a community pot. You said he confessed first, so that’s some points for just about everyone in Winter Troupe, Sakyo, Kazunari and Sakuya.”
“Even Sakuya’s in on this?”
“Spring wants to see their boy winning,” Izumi said matter-of-factly. “Hey, did you offer him any Takis? Chikage was certain you’d offer him Takis right before you became an item.”
“Nope, Cheetos. The hot lime kind.”
“They’re basically the same thing.”
“No, they aren’t. He says Takis are too spicy.”
“But the hot lime Cheetos are spicier than Takis.”
“No, they aren’t.”
“I’ll just say they were Takis. If Chikage got that one right, Itaru has to pay him in gift cards from his whaling stash, and I’m kind of miffed at him for eating a whole jar of guacamole in one night.”
“In one night? But he’s built like a curtain rod, how can he physically do that? Better question, what’s Chikage going to do with a bunch of iTunes cards?”
“I heard he was going to get Minecraft, but if you ask me, I think it’s about the principle of the matter.”
“It has to be. Pocket Edition sucks.”
A knock on the door interrupted your conversation. “Speak of the devil, he’s here. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Noooo, Reader! I need to know if there was a love letter involved! My salary versus Homare’s pocket change is at stake here!”
“It can wait until tomorrow!” You abandoned the phone on the counter and opened the door. “Hey, babe.” He pecked you on the cheek in greeting.
Meanwhile, Izumi was still yelling on the phone. “Is that Masumi? Give him the phone, I need to do a shovel talk.”
You hung up without a care in the world, and turned to your boyfriend. “Sorry about that, Izu called. Did you know Mankai has a betting ring about us?”
He sniffed. “I overheard Tenma talking about it the other day. I thought it was a joke.”
“You thought wrong. Itaru’s in for a world of pain.” You locked the door behind you, adjusted your T-shirt, and brushed Masumi’s knuckles with your own. “Ready to go?”
“Always.” He held your hand as you began to walk together. 🎧
Okay, you asked for this so here's my favourite Juza headcanon: ambidextrous Juza.
It was just something he could always just do. He never really thought anything of it and it's not really a flashy skill or anything, it just came naturally to him and no one really noticed. When he practices calligraphy and his wrist starts to cramp, he just switches hands every so often to let them rest and there is literally no visible difference. It definitely came in handy once he got older and started getting in fights. If he bruised a knuckle after a particularly bad punch, he could just use his other hand for writing while he heals up. It was extremely useful when he was helping Kumon with baseball bcs he could pitch with both hands and help him adapt to any sort of ball he might be thrown in a game.
Also can you imagine when he and Banri get handcuffed? Banri thinks he has the upper hand because he's only ever seen Hyodo write with his left hand and suddenly he just brings out a pen and starts annotating the script with his right like it's nothing and his jaw just drops (tho he still manages to be insufferable all the same because /of course/ he does).
Ambidextrous people are also likely to be more susceptible to emotional influence!! Which might explain why he's so quick to rile up when provoked, by Banri or just random guys who want a fight (making it even more admirable when he pledges to stop fighting for Mankai's reputation even if it means he gets harmed ;×;).
I know that post of mankai dominant hands has been going around recently based off the cards, I just think ambidextrous Juza is swell ^^
I also have more hcs if you want them
Aww this one is so cute! Yeah, I can imagine ambidextrous juza myself and I didn't know that they were susceptible to emotional influence! I'm sort of ambidextrous though it depends on what I'm doing.
I love getting these kind of hcs so always, send them to me!
Ambidextrous juza!
_________
Okay, so we all know that juza would show up banri like it's no body's business but like, think about it, juza just, multitasking. I think it'd be so cute, he's just eating some sweets with one hand and highlighting his lines with the other, or practicing his script while pitching for Kumon. I just can't get over it!
He would no doubt carry the shopping on one arm and be holding your hand or pointing stuff out with the other.
"It's okay, my right hand is just as strong as my left, I can carry that bag too."
Helping omi in the kitchen, handing him stuff while eating some premade cookies.
Now, this is me just projecting my own experiences onto him but like, juza playing table tennis or tennis or some sort of sport like that and switching hands when they get sweaty. He's just using his left hand and the racket keeps slipping so he's like "time to change hands" and just used his right.
Man would constantly use it to help out others, he would never think about you know, holding sweets on both hands. If you mention it to him,
"Oh wow, you're so smart, I never thought of that. Although, I'd rather be eating and feeding you with both hands than just feeding myself. I saw how you looked at that sweet shop window, I know something caught your eye. Why don't we go back in a bit and get whatever you saw? Even if you just found it pretty, you looked happy, and I want to see that again."
He's so sweet goddamn.
Even though he's quit fighting, you know he has ambidextrous writing competitions to beat anyone who tried to fight him. He's now know for being the 'ambidextrous actor' and he's so happy that he's no longer this fighter and is now known for his natural talent and his favourite talent and thing to do.
He helped kazunari get better at drawing with both hands, he taught him ways to keep his other hand steady and to always pay attention to both hands otherwise he will forget, his brain will work on its own and he'll make a mistake or hurt himself.
Being ambidextrous has also helped when injuring himself like one of his hands is bruised or he's hurt it somehow, he can use his other hand for script annotations and any props he has to use.
Yuki now also knows how to sew with both hands just in case. I wonder who taught him that.
But he's not just helping others learn, he's learnt how to pitch, how to draw/paint, how to sew and so much more, and he loves it! He enjoys learning everyone's talents and favourite things to do and he feels as if he can be more open with them, just as they are with him!
_____________
Head empty, cute ambidextrous juza thoughts.
Anyway, such a cute ask and I'd love more of you have them! I can really imagine this and it was so fun writing this, it made me smile so much! ❤️ Thank you!
some headcanons about omi, nachi, and wolf!!! the boys!! ✨
This is mostly speculation based on what I’ve seen in the main story ft. projecting,, minor spoilers ahead as well!
Enjoy!
Omi and Nachi used to be the same height. nachi uses this as a fact in every argument they have. Both of them know that this fact is rarely relevant but it happens anyway
If you’ve seen Haikyuu, these two had a Tendou and Ushijima dynamic the first few times they met. By this I mean “frowny boy and his friend who smiles and is just as dangerous.” I also mean chaos starter and chaos enabler duo
Both of them often wear chain belts. Omi tried dog tags for a while but he stopped (he says he stopped bc Nachi kept calling him a soldier to humor him, but honestly he just lost interest)
That’s when they started to wear matching bracelets
There’s an inside joke within the gang that Nachi has a “better butt,” but Omi has a “better chest.” Only Omi knows about it (and he knows it's true so-)
Omi feeds them outside!! He makes them dinner bc some of them can’t make their own food at home. You can’t miss dessert with Omi either: most of the time the gang has lollipops, ironically after their more intense fights. They don’t actually know it’s from Omi though ,,
They often visit convenience stores at like 3am to find more snacks! Omi’s good with any flavor but he saves the saltier flavors for Nachi and the rest. At that time, he experimented with cooking new foods, and DIY chips were one of his first projects
Like Juza, Nachi has a resting bitter face, but he smiles really easily. Omi’s is more neutral, but he needs to exert actual effort to keep a frown on. Both of them still intimidate people anyway, so it’s not a problem
Since Nachi got the idea of a gang from a manga, he often thinks of certain scenarios in terms of how they’d play out in a manga, much like Muku. Except in this case, those scenarios usually feature action.
Cut to him trying to act out cool fight scenes when their gang just started out, to him flinging one-liners at leaders of enemy gangs. Omi just lets him do it, sometimes joining in
Ex. Fighting back to back with him to replicate “that one panel from this issue! C’mon Omi!”
Not a lot of people can tell, though. Those who can won’t say anything, either—that guy reciting one liners from time to time also runs West Tokyo, so don’t even bother
Speaking of motorcycles, they got their bikes together. Nachi often gives his bike affectionate nicknames, while Omi’s more on maintaining his bike and just getting things done. Nachi sometimes pats his bike like it’s a pet just to piss Omi off
Nachi: you’re scaring the baby
Omi: what baby
Nachi patting his bike: :(
Omi, sighing: what can i do to help
Some of their members take out their bikes’ mufflers to make them louder, much to the expense of the bikes themselves. The two leaders allowed this at one point, but later on it got annoying
Instead they hoot when they race through certain areas, often mimicking wolves’ howls when approaching another gang’s turf to announce their arrival
One of the only times they’ve fought was nachi going “you’ve grown up too fast, didn’t ‘ya?” once they realized they hit their growth spurts. omi didn’t speak to him for four hours. After that nachi had to get him a smoothie or smth and then they talked it out. COMMUNICATION >>>>
Last but not the least:
Nachi has minor super ultra easy mode-itis, in that he thinks of something and (usually) succeeds at executing it. At one point he dared himself to drink fifty cans of soda, and he did, somehow. Anything he tries, he excels at, and that draws lots of people to him :)
Nachi’s usually a very laid-back guy, only being sarcastic and blurting out random jokes and ideas around omi. Omi’s honestly piled with responsibilities, so Nachi takes it upon himself to make him relax when they’re out together. This usually means pushing Omi’s buttons, though, often to the point of pulling off their best stunts yet
Ex. “I bet I can run my motorcycle over the river.”
