BOLD WHAT YOUR MUSE CAN DO. italicize if it varies.

bake  a  cake  from  scratch.  ride  a  horse.   drive  a  submarine.   speak  a  second  language.   dance.   catch  a  fish.   play  an  instrument.   throw  a  punch.   build  a  deck.   ice  skate.   unclog  a  drain.   program  a  computer.   change  a  flat  tire.   fire  a  gun.   sew.  juggle.   play  poker.   paint.   fly  a  kite.   sculpt.   write  poetry.   change  a  diaper.   sing. shoot  a  bow  &  arrow.  ride  a  bike.  swim.   sail  a  boat.   do  a  back  flip.   play  chess.  give  cpr.   pitch  a  tent.  flirt.  stitch  a  wound.   read  palms.   use  chopsticks.   write  in  cursive  /  calligraphy.   use  an  electric  drill.   braid  hair.   make  a  campfire.   make  a  mixed  drink.   do  sudoku  puzzles. wrap  a  gift.   give  a  good  massage.   jump - start  a  car.   roll  their  tongue.   magic  tricks.   do  yoga.  tie  a  tie.   skip  a  rock.  shuffle  a  deck  of  cards.   read  morse  code.   pick  a  lock.

TAGGED BY. @elysiancia :* TAGGING. @smokefumed @maidlove :*

@castitatli

it’s his day off, which is rare, but he’s grateful for the opportunity all the same.  he’s planning to spend the evening with his son, thinking of what he might fix for dinner.  iwai has only recently started cooking.  he’s not incredible, he knows that, but kaoru seems to eat every single bite without complaint.  he tells him he doesn’t have to, but he does anyway.  

so, iwai’s determined to come up with something that actually qualifies as a nourishing meal.  unfortunately, he also can’t remember the last time he actually stepped into a grocery store.

“uh, excuse me, miss,” he turns to a young woman who looks capable, doing her own shopping no doubt.  “i don’t mean to be a bother, but ...” god, this is embarrassing, but for the sake of kaoru, he must persevere!  “if you ... were a novice cook, but wanted to make dinner for two, what would you make?”

@picarexque

iwai swears the kid won’t even know what hit him.  who does this brat think he is?  challenging the gun shop owner to a shooter game at the arcade?  okay, granted.  shooting a fake gun is much different than a toy gun like this, but really, how hard could it be?  as far as he knows, he’s got this in the bag.

“no fun in playing if we don’t make a bet,” he grins, picking up his controller, pointing it towards the screen.  “tell you what, if you win, i’ll cut you a huge discount.  how’s that sound?”

@empreur

“let me get this straight,” iwai rubs his temples, attempting to understand the long-winded ramble of art and the beauty in strife to achieve ideals and perfection but imperfection and ... what?  he’s admittedly lost him around sentence ( ? ) two.  needless to say, he isn’t much of an art enthusiast, but yeah, sure, he can appreciate the occasional pretty painting or two.  still, he really doesn’t know about this ... proposal.  this isn’t the kind of deal he usually makes.

“you want me to model for you?”

@heartraid

“good thinking,” iwai nods, sticking calloused hands into his jacket pockets.  it’s peaceful at inokashira park.  quiet.  maybe too quiet for his taste, but this atmosphere isn’t bad either every once in a while.  especially after giving the yakuza a run for their money.  he ducks under the shade of a nearby alcove, yanking the kid into cover with him as he catches his breath.  the adrenaline settles into nothingness little by little.

“feels pretty nice to take a breather like this.  you okay though?” he muses, lips curled into a little smirk as he glances at his accomplice.  “my old gran’ could probably outrun ya, kid.”

@truemedjed

“you’re sojiro’s daughter?” the gun shop owner looks at her incredulously.  he’s heard of sojiro mention his daughter here and there.  he knows she’s a topic sojiro wants to protect, to keep safe.  iwai understands the feeling.  thoughts of kaoru aside, he has to do something about the girl crouched against the wall, making herself seem as small as possible. 

“hey,” he softens, extending a hand as he kneels before her so they might be able to see eye to eye.  “it’s alright.  i’m a friend of your father’s.  sojiro sakura, right?  makes the best damn curry in all of japan.” he rubs the nape of his neck, sheepish and uncertain of how to help, but he continues to talk to her in an effort to make her feel at least a little more comfortable.  

“is there anything i can get ya?”

@puckish-rogue

“listen here, guy,” iwai attempts to reason with this man who calls himself the ‘boss’.  yeah, yeah, sure, and iwai’s the king of japan, but whatever.  guy can call himself whatever the fuck he wants as long as he gets it through his thick skull that he doesn’t sell any real guns around here.

he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his broad chest.  “i only sell models, y’hear?  i’m tryin’ to run an honorable business here.”  unlike whatever this guy’s probably interested in.  typical.  guys like this jackass are always the same.

@wildcardakira

“is this your cat?” the shop owner holds up a black cat with blue eyes, loudly mewling in assumably protest.  he places the creature on top of the glass counter, fingers immediately rubbing under the animal’s chin.  he won’t admit it, but he admits he’s got a bit of a soft spot for those mangy felines.  still, a rule’s a rule and he doesn’t need this fur ball knocking over merchandise.

“looks like it jumped out of your bag,” he observes, still carding his fingers through the silky coat of dark fur.  “must be pretty well-behaved if you can take it around with you everywhere you go.  still, no pets allowed in the shop.  got that?”

@inxquisitor

goro akechi: resident pretty boy, brilliant detective, a prodigy in every sense of the word.  iwai has no idea what this kid’s doing here in his neck of the woods, but he prefers to keep detectives and other folks associated with the law as far away from him as possible.  despite that, iwai doesn’t realize he hasn’t eaten all day until he smells the undeniably syrupy smell of leftover pancakes, tucked carefully in a white box and underneath the other’s arm.  he knows better than to beg, but his stomach sure doesn’t.

“you gonna finish that?”

smokefumed:

me quietly but with a lot of feeling: what the Fuck

ophantasma:

he never claims to understand the kid nor does he want to get involved, but he can’t help but wonder what akira gets up to in his free time.  boy comes back to him littered with bruises, blood still drying, and he can’t help but assume the worst - he always did lean towards pessimism.  ... does he need the guns to fend off bullies?  he knows that kind of thing can be common at school, but the shop owner shrugs, teeth cracking into his lollipop.

“...y’need a bigger gun or something?” iwai asks, brow furrowed as he points vaguely at the smattering of his bruises peeking from the kid’s collar.  “the hell happened to you, kid?”