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Hello, I'd like a puppy, delivered to Saruhiko Fushimi, please.

…oh… my… I don’t know how he’ll feel about that, but of course!

In exchange for those beads, a puppy has been sent off to the Fusheem!

#i can't believe #purejustice #toritsukareru #toshiroses

[Dashes into closest safe room to his office, out of breath and trying not to look too spooked.]

Fushimi-san. Would you mind if I hide here for a bit.

#toritsukareru #bye bye bye

toritsukareru replied to your post:i’m here i will participate and do a 2 4 1 ...

[ CUTE ]

//s tt tarts cryyying no??

#toritsukareru #tcooc #munapoopoo and poopshimi #i'm crying over your tag for the reblog tho lbr

#bringing fushimeme loot from the secret stash of canned coffees #is this ic or not #who knows #toritsukareru

boiling point [ saruhiko ];

Kamanosuke loathed his job. It was unwise for anyone with a hyperactivity disorder to be cooped up behind a desk for prolonged periods of time, but alas, money was one of those things that one simply could not do without in a big city, or else risk living on the street. Not that he would have cared; he'd done it before. It was simply more convenient not to have to worry about where and how he'd sleep for the night. His apartment was an easy retreat after a busy day, or night. And as such, he remained employed. Just.

His boss had threatened to fire him upon numerous occasions; the man was a patient and understanding individual but Yuri's behaviour was enough to drive even the most generous of people to their wit's end. But it wasn't every day an employee got away with throwing hot coffee at a customer. Regardless, Kamanosuke had no love for the man, nor any real gratitude. The man's prolonged refusal to fire him simply meant he was stuck behind this job for longer than he wanted to be.

Today, he was drawing near to the end of his tether, shifting his weight uncomfortably between his feet as he rested a hand on his hip. The coffee shop uniform; a small apron which fastened about his waist; did nothing to take away from his inherently effeminate appearence, and that bothered him. He'd had too many customers refer to him as 'Miss' today, and frustration was beginning to hammer against his temple.

What was more, his bandages were itching like nobody's business. Jem had done a good job of binding the various deep slices made on his arms, but now their pressure on the wounds were beginning to drive him crazy. But apparently, he wasn't allowed to keep scratching them because it was 'unhygienic' whilst he was working in the shop.

When the next customer arrived at the desk, he spat out the usual greeting. "Hello, what can I get for you?" And there was something about the way the sarcasm practically dripped from the words that made it more than clear that he would rather have been saying: 'Go die in a ditch'.

#tc closed #toritsukareru