"I just imagined your dad cutting holes in your pants for you, like it's... it's some kind of thing you should do and he's just," Gokuder clears his throat, trying to stop giggling when he impersonates Tsuyoshi Yamamoto.
"Again, Takeshi?" It doesn't sound as funny when Gokudera says it, but he's back to cackling, and makes a disgruntled expression, pretending to cut with his fingers and making an audible little sigh, "Ah, kids..." Why is it so funny to imagine Yamamoto-san doing things that the baseball idiot should do, and that it's such a small, funny convenience.
"Like ripping your pants," Gokuder rubs at his eyes and waves a hand, as if he doesn't want to be seen, or that looking at Yamamoto just makes it even funnier.
"Dad, it happened again! Bwahahahah-oh! F-fuckhaha... ehehe..." Oh god he hasn't laughed this hard in a while. Gokudera's even got a little tear in one of his eyes.
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"Again, Takeshi?" It doesn't sound as funny when Gokudera says it, but he's back to cackling, and makes a disgruntled expression, pretending to cut with his fingers and making an audible little sigh, "Ah, kids..." Why is it so funny to imagine Yamamoto-san doing things that the baseball idiot should do, and that it's such a small, funny convenience.
"Like ripping your pants," Gokuder rubs at his eyes and waves a hand, as if he doesn't want to be seen, or that looking at Yamamoto just makes it even funnier.
"Dad, it happened again! Bwahahahah-oh! F-fuckhaha... ehehe..." Oh god he hasn't laughed this hard in a while. Gokudera's even got a little tear in one of his eyes.