#sorry this took awhile to write

[myrddin-wylt]

I love the idea of Arthur and alfred being father and son do you have any headcanons abt them??? I like that u mentioned Arthur can just spat out Alfred’s death as a kid randomly lol

BOY DO I

it's a facade. Arthur "Stiff Upper Lip" Kirkland was deeply affected by all of Alfred's deaths (some more than others). it still bothers him in the modern day, which is actually exactly why he talks about it so often and so casually.

keep in mind that Jamestown was not the first English colony in the Americas - it was the first English colony in the Americas to not fail (and they came really, really damn close). Roanoke failed, several in Newfoundland failed, Cuttyhunk failed, Popham failed, as well as English attempts to establish colonies in Guiana, St. Lucia, and Grenada. so I think initially, it was not at all a guarantee for Arthur that Alfred would just wake up again. of course that would be terrifying for any parent.

overall, the 17th century was a rollercoaster for England - multiple civil wars, the interregnum, wars with rival powers, the great plague of London, the great fire of London, religious conflict, fucking Cromwell, multiple assassination plots, a bit of regicide, some uprisings, etc etc - and life in the early colonies wasn't exactly easier. so I think that for a period of time, Alfred was the one bright, shining spot of joy in Arthur's life, but it was a light that was constantly on the verge of flickering out. and England at this point is anything but a great power, so it'd be enough of a challenge for Arthur to take care of himself, much less a baby. this is in pretty stark contrast to when he'd have his other children, when the British were a much greater force to be reckoned with. and I think that as a result, the dynamic Arthur has with Alfred has a serious dose of trauma* involved that isn't really present for Arthur with his other children. it's kinda like the difference between a single teenage parent with his first child vs as an adult with multiple children and the resources and experience to support them. but like, magnified by 100.

there's also, I think, a lot of guilt on Arthur's part for all of this, for being such a failure of a parent, for being so unable to take care of his son to the point that Alfred, who loved him and thought he hung the moon, actually fought him to leave. and then, once gone, actually thrived without him. like that's gotta hurt. Alfred is basically a walking reminder of Arthur's worst failures and weaknesses, so while he's definitely Arthur's favorite and the family golden-child, he's also a bit of the scapegoat as well. like these two went from enmeshed to completely estranged and back to being joined at the hip. it's just all extremes with them. everything, every unhealthy coping mechanism, every bit of hope and ambition, every bit of fear, every bit of pride - it's all magnified with Alfred in a way it isn't for the others.

.*initially I was going to call this 'trauma bonding,' but apparently that term is very specific to cases of abuse. if anyone knows the term for the kind of bonding that happens between two people who have shared traumatic experiences, lmk.

[zer0pm]

Imagine working your first night in the village tavern and serving a drink to a man you catch sitting by his lonesome. He accepts your kind gesture and engages you in conversation. You didn’t realize you were talking to Lord Heisenberg until it was too late.

“Got a tall one with your name on it.”

The silver-haired man simply glances up at you from his seat, bright eyes switching between your smiling face and the full mug you’ve placed in front of him. The bored expression he wore previously relaxes into that of mild intrigue.

“I didn’t order that,” he says, amusement in his deep voice.

You shrug casually, “It’s on the house.”

When he didn’t say anything right away, you proceeded to explain yourself. “Barkeep mentioned you haven’t ordered anything since you got here. I figured I could spot you a round. Hope you don’t find it rude.”

To your surprise, the man chuckles, returning your patient smile with a toothy grin. “Can’t tell if you’re brave or just straight-up fucking strange. But you are definitely interesting, I’ll give you that.”

You tilt your head curiously, unsure of what to make of his comment. Perhaps, this stranger is one of those lone wolf types that rarely engage in social interaction. However, that didn’t seem correct. He seemed more like the type that enjoyed talking, if not just to hear the sound of his own voice. He has such a distinctive voice too, you found, the rich baritone hitting strings inside you that sent shivering notes tingling down your spine. You shudder not out of fear or anxiety, but out of genuine fascination.

The stranger takes the mug you’ve put down for him in one of his hands, lifting it by the handle and bringing it to his lips before tipping his head back. It gave you an opportunity to look him over. As you suspected, he is large in build. Burly and robust but not overly ripped in muscular definition. He looked strong and undeniably imposing, shaped by hard, laborious work. You imagine that if he wasn’t holding the mug at its handle, he could wrap his thick, calloused digits around the cup with ease. The loose shirt he wore had the sleeves rolled up, exposing several wiry scars that adorn the back of his hands and forearms. They varied in length and size, barely faded by time, and matched the old wounds that ran across his rugged face.

Questions danced upon your tongue on how he got his scars, but you thought better of it and bit them down. He looked different from the other men you’ve seen in the village and had a unique air about him too, one that you would be able to immediately spot in a busy crowd. He was quite handsome, in a rough sort of way.

The man must have noticed you staring for when you brought your eyes back up to his, he was already looking right at you. His bright gaze remained locked onto you even as he sets the drink back down with a quenched sigh, a devilish tongue swipes the excess liquid from damp lips before withdrawing behind wolfish teeth. The ends of his mouth tugs upwards, putting his canines into full display. The damn man is smirking again and his eyes had a knowing, teasing gleam to them. Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, you bowed your head to hide the embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

Suddenly feeling incredibly shy, you take a step back. “I-I’m going to see to my other patrons, then. If you need anything else, just-”

“What’s your name, buttercup?” He cuts you off. There is an edge to his tone, as if daring you to move from your spot before him.

Buttercup? He’s giving you a petname? Is it derogatory or is it a genuine term of endearment? Either way, it made your face burn hotter.

Overwhelmed with the need to answer him immediately, you gave the stranger your name without a second thought. He repeats it in a low, slow drawl as if testing and savoring the sound on his tongue. Your heart picks up speed and you spoke up again in a futile attempt to calm the rapid beating.

“What’s yours?”

Like flipping a switch, the air between you two suddenly shifts. The wide smirk he wore falters and his brows furrow. These few words seemed to have disarmed him as the grey-haired man beholds you with a piercing glare, searching your face for any signs that you are joking or something. You could do nothing but stare back, balancing on the balls of your feet nervously. When he found that you were sincere in your question, he grasps his bearded chin thoughtfully.

“Intriguing,” he comments, his expression deeply pensive. His reply didn’t relieve any of the tension you were feeling and you wondered if you somehow offended him for not knowing who he is. “Are you local?”

Unable to fathom where his line of questioning was heading, you decided that it was best to answer him honestly as you have been doing thus far. “Uhh, yes, of course. Born and raised. Although, I’m not from the immediate area, if that’s what you mean.”

A thick silver brow arches. “So, I take it you’re not the religious sort, then.”

You shake your head. There was no helping the guilt taking root inside you. Clearly this man thinks that his identity should be apparent to you. Thinking about it, he does look sort of familiar but you couldn’t quite place him. You wished then that you paid more attention to the people around you in the weekly sermons.

“Not really,” you rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “I rarely went to church. Not that I don’t follow the black faith, mind you. I just have other priorities. Life can be hard in the village, you know how it is.”

When he didn’t comment on this, you followed up with your own inquiry with the intention of making polite conversation. He mentioned religion, so…

“Are you a pastor?” That seemed like a logical thing to ask. But surely if he was leading the mass, you’d have remembered him right away. Maybe you simply missed each other in passing. You can’t shake the feeling that you do know him somewhere.

A bellowing laugh erupts from his throat. The man bends over on his seat, banging the wooden tabletop with a clenched fist as zealous humor consumed him. You didn’t notice that the rest of the tavern went completely quiet at his spontaneous outburst. When he finally sits back upright, he was in tears.

“Damn, you’re adorable!” He sighs deeply, his grin wide as he wipes the water from his eyes. “Do I look like the kind to give fucking sermons, buttercup?”

Again with the petname. You weren’t bothered by it this time. If anything, you took the lighthearted turn in the conversation as a good sign, pleased to see that the man looked like he was enjoying his time with you. Even at the expense of your embarrassment.

Deciding it best to play along, you returned his good humor with a playful smile of your own. “Looks can be deceiving.”

He scoffs, “Can say that again. Guess not everyone in Miranda’s herd is a sheep.”

You didn’t quite register that. “Excuse me?”

His hand waves off your question dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You…”, the grey-haired man leans back against his chair, his lopsided smile bordered on teasing. “You get to call me Karl.”

A surprised hum escapes you, you didn’t expect a man so interesting to have such an ordinary name. Thankfully, he didn’t seem offended by the involuntary sound. Remembering you had a job to do, you throw him a courteous nod.

“Nice to meet you, Karl. I really should check on my other customers. Is there anything else I can get you?”

He casts you a playful look, “Are you on the menu?”

Although you were standing still, you nearly tripped over on the spot and tried to save face by quipping back. “Ha ha. Think you’re so smooth.”

Karl shrugs, reaching for the mug once more and inspecting the contents lazily. “I prefer to be rough. But no, I think this will do. For now.”

Your brain shut down after “rough” and you were quick to retreat back to the bar, ears turning red upon hearing his knowing chuckle as you created distance. So distracted by the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you that you failed to realize that the usual hustle and bustle of the busy tavern was completely void of sound. A loud bang of what sounded like someone slamming their hand against the wood harshly is all that it took to bring life back into the room and the patrons returning to their own devices. This somehow went under your notice too. You did not regain your wits until the barkeep you were working with for the night snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“Oy! New blood! Didn’t I tell you not to bother that one?” he reproached you. Was that panic in his eyes?

You blink back at your distressed coworker. “If it’s about the free tankard, I’ll foot the lei. Everyone else looked like they were having a fine time besides him. That didn’t seem right to me.”

The frantic man shook his head fiercely, “Whether or not he is enjoying himself isn’t any of our business. He could very well be plotting his wrath upon this establishment for what you did!”

The excitement that was bubbling within you before is now replaced by confusion. “Why would Karl do that? Who is he?”

The barkeep’s face falls into that of pure shock. “Are you completely daft!? He’s-”

He chokes. Suddenly, his expression pales to an alarming shade of white. From the corner of your eye, you spot a large shadow looming and felt an imposing presence from your side.

You turn your head to see the man from before standing next to you. But this wasn’t the Karl that you spoke with earlier. He had the same face but wore more clothing- more distinct articles of clothing that made you freeze on the spot upon recognition. Afterall, who could ever miss the signature dirty trenchcoat, or the dark, round glasses, or the well-worn hat of Lord Heisenberg himself? Who dares not recognize one of the four nobles that rule over the village with an iron fist? Evidently you.

He didn’t meet your eyes right away, instead he had a deathly glare directed right at the barkeep who was now quivering in his boots. “Because I’m in a good mood,” the lord began, voice descended into a low growl, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear what you just called my new friend.” Lord Heisenberg then looks down at you behind black lenses, his demeanor shifting from threatening and terrifying to playful and pleasant.

His smile returns, seemingly wider than before, likely because he knows that you know who he is now. “Thanks for the drink, buttercup. I’ll see you real soon.” He pushes his shades down the bridge of his nose, winking at you before tipping his hat in an exaggerated head bow. With heavy footsteps, he takes his leave, not giving a second glance.

Your eyes followed him and lingered on the door he went through long after he left. There was a deafening silence. It filled the tavern for what seemed like an eternity before it was broken by the clanging of the metal tray you once held in your hands.

The lord of steel was here in the flesh. And you were talking to him so carelessly. And he was flirting with you so shamelessly. This was not how you expected your first day on the job to go. And he declared he intended to see you again.

You’re in deep trouble…

[milf-harrington]

29. putting ear over their heart, for steddie 💕

please enjoy some domestic fluff w the barest sprinkling of angst (like a tiny smidgen, barely a paragraph)

---

The apartment was quiet when Steve got in, back from lunch with Robin down at the cafe by her university.

It wasn't the kind of quiet Steve was used to, the kind that lurked in empty hallways. A dreadful, empty sort of quiet that sunk into your bones like water in the lungs of someone drowning.

This was a new sort of quiet: radio playing on the kitchen windowsill, the window by the couch left open with Eddie's ashtray tucked next to the cord for the blinds. Music and voices and engines from the street wafted in on the breeze, immediately dampened when Steve reached up and pulled the window back down with a thud.

It was a lived in sort of quiet. An Eddie's-either-not-home-or-he's-asleep-somewhere quiet.

Considering the window had been left open, Steve was betting on the asleep somewhere option.

Trying to stay quiet, Steve headed down the short hallway and pushed open their bedroom door. The blinds were open, and the bed was half made, the pillows left piled to one side with their cases folded on top like Eddie'd gotten distracted halfway through.

Steve snorted, fond, and stepped back into the hallway.

Their apartment wasn't big- two small bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen/living room combination with enough space for a dining table in between - so it wouldn't be hard to track his boyfriend down.

And it wasn't, Steve found him in the second-bedroom-turned-"office", stretched out in a sunbeam, like one of the stray cats he insisted on feeding.

He had one arm sorta stretched above his head, the other resting on his tummy as he snored into his armpit, guitar and notebook discarded to the side. The vacuum was in there too, and Steve had to step over it to get inside the room.

Apparently, Eddie had made a valiant attempt at cleaning while he'd been gone.

The thing is, when Eddie cleaned, he had to make a whole thing of it- turn it into one of his roleplaying games, with outfits and silly voices, or else he'd never actually get it done.

His usual version of a cleaning costume was to just keep his hair out of his face with a headband made out of a bandanna, folded into the cliched little triangle and all, and a long sleeved shirt so he could dramatically roll up his sleeves.

Today, he'd gone as far as to put on an old apron he'd accidentally stolen from a past job working at a deli. The duster he'd shoved in the front pocket was dangerously close to slipping out, only kept in place by the angle of Eddie's hip.

The thing is- Eddie was, like, a really deep sleeper. And he didn't tend to move much. And he was sort of just lying there, bandanna wrapped around the top of his head, hair splayed out under him, head tilted just enough to show off the long-healed scars in his cheek. And Steve was, much to his own dismay, a worrier.

And it had been a good 3 years since the spring of '86, and he could literally see Eddie's stomach rising and falling with each breath but-

But.

Feeling ridiculous, but knowing he'd just get more and more anxious until it became an actual problem, Steve sighed and carefully lowered himself into a crouch. He reached out, intending to shake Eddie awake, just to make sure he would, but paused as his fingers brushed fabric.

If he'd fallen asleep in the middle of the day, on the floor no less, then he probably needed it.

So, sticking his tongue out in a habit he'd definitely gotten from the man sleeping on the floor right now, Steve carefully moved the duster and the arm laying over Eddie's tummy and threw a leg over his hips.

He knee-walked backwards until he was hovering over his thighs instead, and then carefully laid down on top of him, turning his head so his ear was pressed against Eddie's sternum.

It took a second to settle, for the sound of shifting fabric to stop and then-

thu-thump. thu-thump. thu-thump.

He laid there for a little longer, just listening, just checking, until sun-warmed arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Steve didn't know if Eddie was fully awake, but he didn't say anything about waking up to Steve on top of him.

Instead he let out a long, pleased sigh. Dug his fingers into Steve's hair and gently scratched his scalp, movements slow and sleepy.

In a few minutes, Steve would sit up and ask Eddie what he was doing napping on the floor and Eddie will explain that he'd been cleaning, and then he'd gotten an idea for a song and he didn't want to forget it.

Then they'd get up, Steve hauling his boyfriend off the floor with dramatic grunts and groans like men twice their age, and finish cleaning the apartment together.

But for now, Steve just settled in a little more comfortably, listening to Eddie's heart beat.

[legstheoctomobster]

do you do requests? if so can you do hcs for mama betty and papa simon? :D

Yeah! Here you go :D

Mama Betty + Papa Simon Headcanons

Betty will often take you out of the house and just to anywhere. Whether that be the park, library, or just on a walk, she loves going outside with you!

Simon loves to explain ancient objects and artifacts to you. You’ll often ask seemingly dumb questions to get your papa rambling.

Simon’s usually good at stopping tantrums, while Betty will just give you whatever you want to stop the tears, usually out of panic. Simon also gives in to this as well at times.

Betty loves when you help her cook. You are usually the mixer/taste tester. She’ll gladly infodump about what spices work and don’t work for a dish.

Whenever your stuffy accidentally tears, Simon’s the person to go to for repair. He’ll often add small embroidery to the stuffy when you take a nap.

Betty can usually pick you up and cradle you, while Simon’s not strong enough. Betty and you often tease him about it.

Simon and Betty will show you pictures of them (pre-canon) and share stories of their explorations

As a prank, you’ll often hide Betty and Simon’s glasses somewhere around the house. They both know where you’ve placed them, but they like to act dumb and “plead” with you to help them find the glasses.

(Gonna add some post(??) Fionna and Cake Multiverse stuff where Betty is turned back into a human and stays in Ooo with everyone else!)

You often have playdates with a regressed Marcy and Fionna. Most play dates end with Simon being “forced” into a princess tea party. Betty will gladly take photos and tease him. Marcy and Fionna are also your sibbies!

[marsgod]

May I request a staff!gn!reader who’s actually Crowley’s younger sibling but they’re nothing like them? Like they’re the literal opposite of the Headmage

And whenever the Headmage comes to their class to “visit” aka embarrass them in front if the whole class, they will use magic to kick him out if they have to

And they’re not afraid to blast a fireball at him to get out.

Ans if anyone even laughs ot breathes wrong during or after Crowley’s visit, they’re getting detention

I pray for the ADeuce duo 🙏🙏

- underrated staff anon

omg….. Ace would be in constant trouble (x10000)

In short, Ace is laughing/screaming, Deuce is crying, Crowley is desperately trying to escape and [name] is unimpressed.

⇢ Twst x Gn! Crowley’s sibling! Reader

⇢ Warnings; N/a

Crowley is def the type of sibling to embarrass his siblings, older or younger, intentional or not

He just loves you and he’s extra so obviously that mixes rlly well

When you came in and applied? omg he did not let you rest a second, he was constantly over to your room to talk about this and that l

yall also constantly fight and that’s probably the only time everyone likes crowley being over cus yall get physical rather easily…

Crowley raced into the class, hanging onto the door has he hunched over to catch his breath before waving his arms. Your stare and the stares of students did nothing to deter him from coming up and whispering in your ear.

you looked at him in confusion before staring Yuu and Grim in the eyes, “No.. Really? This’ll be fun then,”

Yuu felt a shiver as a smile that could only be described as sadistic graced your lips, you were still staring and they prayed you would at least blink. Do something other than stare at Yuu as if you were going to send them through hell.

You both continued your conversation, turning away as Ace leaned in,

“What did you do?” He aggressively whispered

Yuu stiffly waved their arm before whispering back, “I don’t know what I did, They just looked at me!”

“Ah, talking in class? You two should know better, come see me after class.”

The entire “I’m so gracious” theme that he does sometimes spreads to you, everyone can see how similar you are but you will fire ball them if they mention it

[hermitblurbs]

A continuation of my Steampunk AU (7)!

Grian had grown to accept his weird attachment to Scar, if with a bit of hesitance. The other was good conversation in a town where everyone else was incredibly boring. It’s why he stuck around with broken machines so often; there’s nothing to predict about them.

Scar was fixed up, no sign of glitches like in N.P.C or Grumbot, and Grian couldn’t predict him if his life depended on it. Whatever AI in the bot’s brain was fascinating, and the strange logic it followed always managed to keep him enraptured.

It quelled that bored drawl in the back of his mind, on a good day.

Today, even with Scar by his side, seemed to crawl along at a slug’s pace.

The wastes were turning up useless scrap after useless scrap, Mumbo too busy with a commission to entertain him, even the ticking of his wings was the same as ever. They didn’t even ache. At least then, complaining or not, wouldn’t leave him bored.

If he’s being honest, he probably shouldn’t have gone out to scavenge.

Days like these are best kept in line by staying in a place with overarching rules, a guarantee he won’t overstep anything and end up missing more than a chunk of wing.

The wastes don’t have that. They have metal, radiation, rust, and scavengers.

“This is a lot further than we’ve travelled before,” remarks Scar, frayed gas mask making him seem bizarrely human, bizarrely out of place in one of mumbo’s white button up and a false corset. He knows by the whirl of Scar’s fans, that the green metal would be warm to the touch.

He climbs the hill anyway.

There’s the clanging of other scavengers, only two of them at the foot, and they’re pulling something out of a shaking pile that’s large and expensive.

“Ooh, a lucky find for those fellas!”

Grian says nothing in return.

His wings click. Once. Twice.

Take it from them.

He widens his stance, careful not to make a sound on copper and aluminum and iron.

Imagine how excited Mumbo will be.

His wings spread like butter across the sky.

And he jumps. Dives, towards the two.

What should’ve happened was a simple wrap of his hands around the machinery and an arc back into the air and away. What should’ve happened would have been enough to satiate his boredom. What should’ve happened, is that he should have been faster.

What did happen, is that he gets his hands curled around the machine. He’s on the upbeat of his wings, when a hand wraps around his ankle.

He registers the impact. He registers the stars. He registers how the metal crumples beneath him, denting and damaging the scrap.

And then he registers the pain of being slammed into the ground.

“What the fuck, you little asshat!” The nearest one sounds. Their mask is colored the same white as the gleam of a jawbone. They raise a foot and stomp on Grian’s hand, grinding it into the dry dirt with the heel.

He has half a mind to scan the hills for Scar, but the android is lost among the shadows and the piles of scrap encircling them. His heart sinks.

“Hey, dude!” Comes the second one—their mask is layered to look like a growing of fungus. “Take it easy, they’re already down.”

“Their mask is cool,” remarks the third, the one his missed and the one who grabbed him. Their mask is simple and plain, a stark contrast to his own, hooked in the shape of a beak. They’re dressed in dark browns, almost blended completely against the ground.

“That doesn’t matter, they tried to *steal* from us. Why I oughta—“ And they grab his wing.

Something in his mind goes a little haywire. The bones there are fragile, half-molded to metal and muscle, and he does his darnedest to bash their faces in with the prosthetic.

He manages to clip Shrooms across the temple, drawing his knife and lunging at another, but it doesn’t last long. It was never going to last long, three against one. But he gets some good hits in, spills enough blood.

He ends up fully pinned, a boot against his back and his racing heartbeat prominant in the pressure from a steady, constant pull of his wing in a scavenger’s hand.

“What’s going on here?” Comes a familiar voice, and Grian feels like crying. If they leave him alive, at least Scar can get him back to Mumbo.

“Are you with this vulture,” one of them spits.

“I am, and I promised he’s very much learned his lesson—“

“He sliced my arm open,” they growl. And yeah, he did do that. The drip of blood fills him with a cruel pride that they’re going to need to go home after this and waste the day away.

“You deserved it,” he calls back, and is rewarded with a particularly painful tug on his wing.

“Fellas, I promise you that if you let him go, you’ll never see us ever again. Heck, we’ll even leave you little things for yourself to improve profits! How’s that for a deal?”

“How about instead we slice his throat?” And he knows it’s a bluff. Killing someone over a single piece of scrap is ludicrous, and these guys don’t seem insane enough to do it to a first-time offender. They’re farther than typical from their bubble, and while Grian’s had his own fair share of death threats they’ve only ever been serious in total nowhere. It’s got to be a bluff. It has to be.

He’s going to die if it’s not.

Grian looks up, eyes following metal legs to Scar’s face to find the other staring directly at him.

He doesn’t know what Scar sees in him, but he hears his fan kick on just beneath the noise of the wastes.

The android steps forward, steps closer. Grian can’t tell a single thing about what he’s thinking, but he knows his neck is starting to ache from the angle he’s keeping it at to keep Scar in view. Something about the quiet won’t let him look away. Scar rears back a fist.

And then he hears the crack of bone.

The weight falls off his back, his wing, and Grian is left staring into empty space as Scar takes measured steps behind him, and out of view.

The impacts behind him begins to sound wet, like the repeated thump of a hammer against drowned wood.

Grian has dabbled a bit, long before he met Mumbo, in engineering himself. It was more buildings than robots, trains instead of anything that breathes. But there’s one thing he still remembers, clear as day.

A robot may not injure a human being.

So what does that make the thing in front of him?

[askmatthias]

Hello Mr. Matthias!

I just want to ask about your thoughts on Miss Rosalyn ( @idv-artists-trio ) She is also a puppeteer like you and I feel both of you may have some aspects in common!

(my friend likes Matthias and I wanna surprise her with this ask but if you are uncomfortable answering it then you can ignore it)

( Matthias just blinks. )

"... We have nothing in common."

( Louis, however, swivels his head to Matthias and STARES. )

( Matthias looks increasingly uncomfortable before slowly turning his head to Louis. )

"What?"

"You are so disrespectful sometimes."

( Matthias grimaces, annoyed with the Puppet's assessment, but deciding to speak his mind a little more. )

"She's... Pretty..? Too pretty. Too perfect."

( Louis blinks his little wooden eyelids, and though his expression doesn't change, there's a feeling of incredulity. )

"... She's more like you than me."

( He doesn't realize she might be able to overhear this. )

"Reminds me of home. Of Mom."

( Matthias is actively lighting a match. )

[sun-e-chips]

Hi! Just wanted to drop by and tell you that your waterpark AU has me in its GRIP!

Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!

I’m so glad you like my silly waterpark au!

[faytelumos]

Find the Word

I was tagged by @kaatiba for find the word!  My words are shine, ring, try, calm, and hear.

---

Shine

I mostly closed the door. It squeaked slightly, just enough to hear it but not so sharply as to be unpleasant. A sliver of the cool, faintly colored light from the library shone in and faded before it reached the covered book shelves. I wandered to the desk, then sat on my haunches to remove my satchel, careful not to catch the crook of my horns.

Hear

I stepped into the large bedroom slowly, flicking my tongue in the deep darkness. Athetæm was in here, to the left. I stepped inside carefully, pawing for the edge of the bed blindly. He sighed in front of me, and I could hear him shifting as I stepped onto the downy mattress.

"It's time to eat," I breathed, crawling up alongside him. He rumbled tiredly. I flicked my tongue until I caught a taste of his scales, sweet and floral. I laid down alongside him, leaning my weight just enough to feel him pressed against me through scales. He huffed, his body warm, and I laid my head on his neck.

"You're cold," he whispered.

"I've been without you all day," I sighed.

Calm

I held Fethu close, watching the creature I couldn't call my mother. She looked between the two newcomers, ears flat, wings half-raised. Then she looked to me. There was... cunning in her look. A plan.

She seemed suddenly to calm. She lifted her head again, folding her wings, but her ears remained pinned. She stood tall, proud, even, and she gathered herself up into the look of a noble.

She gave me one final, studious look. Then she turned around and walked away.

Try

"What do you think she's going to do?" I looked up, then back to the ground.

"I don't really know," I admitted. "She said she wants me home, but I can't imagine why. She was eager enough to get rid of me as a youngling." I looked up along the path, watching people walk. "And I can't quite remember what it was like to live with her."

"You were young," Athetæm sympathized. I shook my head.

"It's not just that. It wasn't very long ago that I was with her. I just...." I concentrated, trying to catch the small snatches that I did remember. "I have small memories. She told me to stay away from the windows. I had siblings." I couldn't even remember how many siblings. Or their names.

Ring

"Do you remember... how I met an angel there?" I asked. He nodded. I looked forward, then to the cobblestones. "I'm... I haven't thought about it in a long time. And I'm wondering if it really was just a dream." I glanced over to see him looking at me.

"I thought you'd been sure it was real."

"I, I was," I replied, watching the road. "When it happened, I remember that it felt so truly real and vivid. I remember that my ears were ringing and my scales ached where it had, where it had touched me." I looked over to him. "But that was it, only the once. At the time, I thought it was going to be my companion. Now... I'm beginning to wonder if it wasn't a fluke." Athetæm nodded pensively. I sighed. "I want it to have been real. Especially now."

---

I’m no-pressure tagging @those-damn-snippets, @surplus-of-sarcasm, and @thepromiscuousfinger to find sense, call, laugh, trip or stumble, and red.

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

Gpose based on song from Spotify 2023 top songs!

Number 3!

“it hurts to say goodbye it always will, but before grief took root, love grew here first.” -v.j.markham

Shadows Withal by Soken

There are no lyrics to this piece but it works for this scene wherein Emet corrects Anthea’s radio, because he has to listen to it too and despite it all really they both care for one another deeply. Find a little written piece below the cut!

Anthea looks out at a barren white landscape beyond the floating image of Zodiark still locked away, and out to the blue planet while their mind wanders and gets immersed in the soft music playing. It had been awhile since they took the time to stand on the balcony and listen to their radio from the days of old. Their companion felt it a bit frivolous to make such a machine with Anthea’s creation magicks, a worry that it would take away from their “limited” supply and at the time the two were helplessly watching the second rejoining, not knowing how it would effect their work. It didn’t, his worry was exaggerated, but Anthea wonders if it was that he just felt saddened he couldn’t contribute, his memory and knowledge lying within the realm of academia. Anthea was just as guilty though, they knew their creation would forever play the same dozen tunes, that not all would be in their complete state, and all the same genre for others were too faded in their memory to warrant a place within it. They sigh, “Maybe you were right my companion, ‘twas too frivolous of a creation.”

Below a man with white hair and golden eyes leans against the blue building taking advantage of the shadows and his dark robe to listen along to songs that take him back to an office, the home of a friend, and his own peaceful nights when he could put down all the responsibilities of Emet-Selch to be Hades for just awhile. Nostalgia kicks in and his shoulders hang as he does his best to ignore the urge that calls for him to reach out to his friend and maybe, just maybe, be able to talk to them like the two used to do. Emet-Selch sighs, it would never be as it once was, too much time had passed and there was no turning back on their choices that they believed to be the right ones. So instead he stays below and listens with eyes closed putting himself back in days long gone when he would do work silently while Anthea sat on the bench between two bookshelves and braided flower stems occasionally humming to what he played.

A fine memory….and one he’s yanked from when the piano chord is out of tune. And then the next one and the one after that, something he wouldn’t have noticed had it not been one of his favorite pieces. He shakes his head, “Still letting your doubts affect your work after all this time my friend.” He pushes himself from the wall, focusing on the object and in his mind’s eye finding the things he needs to alter the tunes. He pulls forth memories of all the songs he’s heard, ones he knows Anthea’s heard, some that they loved, and one that always seemed to play when the two found peace in his office, raises his arm and snaps.

The scratching and static that comes from the radio makes Anthea jump as they stare at the object. It shouldn’t be possible that a signal is lost or interrupted on this barren land and yet the radio acts like when a different researcher would come into the Akademia Anyder and find the music not to their liking. It’s only a few seconds and it settles on a song they hadn’t heard in ages, one they opted to not include when making the radio. A soft tune with a slow baseline and piano that sounded like wings in the air. A small smile replaces the confusion and Anthea listens to their song. The song that still makes their eyes mist over from the memories, but one that also fills their heart with warmth. Anthea looks over the moon once more with a sigh speaking softly, “You’re out there somewhere Emet-Selch, I know you are.”

The man leans against the building once more crossing his arms in satisfaction, mumbling, “There. Isn’t that better, Anthea? Now we can both enjoy some of that peace like we used to….”

“I thank you for the corrections and maybe one day we can sit upon this balcony in silence enjoying the other’s company….”

The two hang their heads and silently say, “For I miss the friendship we once had.”

[i-am-tiny-sun]

the way i struggled to write this bc i’m a stickler for accuracy and college—

Categories: ☁️ (fluff!); 🫧 (new work!); 🍡 (gn! reader); 🎨 (corresponding fan art towards the end!)

Tw: I’m praying for y’all’s teeth and dental bills after y’all read this fluffy sweetness

“Pick one.”

Two mugs. One pink, one white, both equally tiny. The pink mug had a small decal on one side of a squirrel running through some trees, on the other side was the text “a scurry of squirrels”. The white mug had a lion decal, the text “my little lion” had a home on the other side. Leona covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle his budding laughter.

But you heard that snicker!

“What?”

“This is what you woke me up for?”

You stuck your tongue out at him. His tail swayed idly while he eyed you, as if expecting a further explanation for why you wanted him to pick one of the mugs. He really just wanted you to lay with him and rub his head…maybe his ears too, but he wouldn’t dare confess that he wants you to rub them.

“Act like I woke you up to dig trenches, why don’t ya? Just pick one!”

You should have known better than to think Leona wouldn’t be a grouch for at least five minutes! Sure, it was the weekend, barely anybody was alive at this hour (save for Jack and maybe Jamil, who woke up earlier than this). You could somewhat understand his reluctance to join the land of the living.

Well, despite the fact that he was about as welcoming as a grizzly bear with a chainsaw upon first meeting, his grumpiness was one of the many things you loved and accepted about him. He’d never admit it to you, and you’d never tell him that you knew, but he was a sweetheart deep down. In his own way, at least.

“Fine, I’ll bite. But you have to lay down with me afterwards.”

“Deal!”

That was the only deal you were willing to make. You really hoped Azul wasn’t nearby, but he also wasn’t anything like Rook. You were probably safe.

It was very fitting that Leona chose the one with the lion on it. It was so tiny in his hands, and you had to do your best to refrain from voicing how cute you thought it was. It was almost concerning how much you wanted to squeeze him. Not waiting for him to say anything else, forbid he change his mind, you took his other hand and dragged him into the empty lounge and took out your kettle.

Leona watched you flit around gathering your tea collection, plugging in the kettle after filling it with water and letting it heat up. Oh look, now you’re having him pick a tea. Wanting to try something new, he pointed to the sweet smelling pink tin that had white flowers painted on it.

“Try that one.”

He’d picked the chamomile tea infused with vanilla and honey. This would probably make him sleep longer afterwards, but you were just glad he was cooperative this time. You took out two teabags, placing one in each mug to save time. The water boiled to a good temperature, you flipped the switch on the kettle to shut it off.

You both waited for the tea to steep, but Leona noticed how you were looking at him. He would wait to tease you about it though. You couldn’t get over how much smaller the mug was than his hands, how he stared at it with utmost focus. It looked like he was trying to keep it from turning into sand. He could pretend to be as bored, grouchy, and reluctant as he wanted but you knew he cared deep down. You went through the effort of spending time with him, albeit earlier than his preference. He hadn’t activated his signature spell, so you figured he shouldn’t have to worry about it.

Lions couldn’t purr, but you swore you heard him make an eerily similar sound when you rubbed his ears. At least he didn’t have to ask you for it.

The tea was done steeping and was at an acceptable, tolerable temperature. A comfortable silence befell you both as you enjoyed your tea, budding sunlight painting his flesh in gold petals like it was meant for him. Like he was their sunflower. You’d have to introduce him to sunflower tea one day. Leona eyed your mug, the cute little squirrel decal reminding him of you. He couldn’t help but tease you at least a little bit.

“You really are an herbivore.”

“You will never let that go, will you? Even though we both know squirrels are opportunistic omnivores?”

Leona shrugged, this time a genuine, soft smile forming on his face. He’d never show this to anyone else.

“Nah. You’re my herbivore. I will hold onto this forever. By the way, Floyd’s been rubbing off on you too much.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You looked like you wanted to squeeze me.”

A sneeze startled Jade from his slumber.

“Bless you.”

Floyd rubbed his nose and shook his head.

“Thanks…I think someone’s talkin’ about me. It’s probably Shrimpy!”

A/N: well, he supposed he could indulge you for a few minutes…just lay down with him afterwards

[springswallow]

@haknam is up at four o' clock in the morning!

"Killing time!" she repeats. Was there a worse malaise than procrastination or even executive dysfunction in a socialist-market economy? "The utmost irony! It is the hour that is killing you!"

Chūn-Yàn flits underneath him like the bird she is so named. Having immortalish siblings does not stop you from worrying about them when they dangle from trees!

"I could ask the same of you, but there are much more suitable enquiries. Mine is crucial: it has been a stressful commute here, and I am in need of a treat. Abundance spoils one for choice. I have been drifting the streets, unable to decide..."

Earth to Ch|na! You haven't answered his second question!

"Perhaps you are, as the youths say... gatekeeping?"

Look, she has a history of rebellion and revolution. Fire cannot kill a dragon, gates cannot hold back a nation... the poets have done this for us already.

[mashiee]

Arlo family lore plspls its beneficial to my health

OKAY SO

so i got another ask specifically about [REDACTED] so im gonna talk abt that in a separate ask

BUT i will tell u abt my ocs for arlos fam (almost exclusively on his dads/valeries side, havent thought abt mom much) and general stuff for them and their relationships w eachother and arlo specifically

OKAY SO

i gave Arlo four older siblings because why the hell not and i can (i will get to the parents later)

also while im thinking abt it, im unsure abt Arlo's last name but im thinking Kingston right now

OKAY ANYWAY

also i just wanna say that when made character names i usually just smash sound together until i find something i like and hope it isnt a slur in another language

so what im saying is none of the names have any relevance or importance i just like their sounds and how they look

the first oc is Mammi (pronounced like ma'am-ee)

hes the oldest of the five of them, as of current uno time hes 25

he/him

amab cismasc

haven't decided sexuality. probably gay bc im gay and i self project too much

anyway he currently works with the authorities and is in a relatively high ranking position

but surprise surprise hes a spy for [ERROR]

(a secret organization :) also has a whole Thing that would require a separate post. a lot of new characters and also some world building. plus it also kind of plays into my bod au/rei fic)

but unfortunately the authorities are all fucking idiots and no one would even think of suspecting him

Valeire is the only one who does (she basically Knows) bc their father (her brother) was against a lot of the things the authorities did

but she has absolutely no proof so she cant do anything :)

fun fact Mammi and the entirety of Arlo's sibling except for Arlo himself all Loathe Valerie

2 of them want her dead

one would actively make an attempt on her life themselves if they ever saw her again

pst psst Mammi is the former

anyway Mammi is Tall (TM)

atm his height is fluctuating between 6'5 and 6'6 bc i cant choose

i just think itd be hysterical if Arlo's entire family on his dad's side were all giants

speaking of that let me take this time to tell you that Arlo is the youngest in his family aside from his mom and Valerie because i thought it'd be really funny

bc Mammi is in the authorities he often wears a suit and let me tell you this man looks fine as hell

not all men can work a suit but this one can

i still havent drawn any of the siblings except for a bit of the next one so my visuals of them are all p vague and could absolutely change but as of now

Mammi has long straight blond hair that roughly reaches his waist

its usually in a low ponytail

he has gold eyes :)

not sure what i want his ability to be yet (obviously a shield variant but what exactly) or how powerful

now for the lovely sister of the family

so the next one is Luss (pronounced how it's spelled)

shes 24 :)

she/her pronouns trans woman

6'4

lesbian

a model who travels quite a lot

long curly hair and gold eyes

always wearing red lipstick

a bit mischievous

her ability is... well its honestly kind of useless on its own

she can make shields that are full orbs but theyre only about the size of a fist

she did find out that they hurt if u throw them at ppl tho, esp if u put stuff in them

not sure what level yet. maybe a flat 6.0 . or maybe even like a 5.9 if i wanna get angsty and make like her family disappointed in her for not being a god tier or smth

very caring about her family

very forgiving person to a fault

strongly believes in second chances

Luss is the closest to Mammi

but she doesn't really feel like she has anyone close to her

(which ends up being a huge bonding point between her and Arlo)

tries her best to keep their family together but it's pretty futile

tries to be optimistic and cheerful and such but it's all an act

would do anything for her family, especially her siblings

sees herself a lot in Arlo for what little she's seen of him

and then we have the twins

as stated above, theyre twins

the older one is Sade, and Kallo is idk like two mins younger or smth

theyre both 21

Sade uses they/them pronouns and is nonbinary

Kallo uses he/they and like. he knows he's masculine but he isnt like a man or male

hes keeping his gender unlabeled but sometimes says its homeboy bc he thinks its funny

tbh im not sure what assigned gender at birth i want either of them to be so im just not gonna choose 🤷

both are 6'4 1/2 or sth

the twins are very separated from the rest of the family they want nothing to do w them

they both dont like Mammi

and hate Valerie

Sade wants her dead and if Kallo ever saw her again he'd lunge

they tolerate Luss and don't dislike her but it's not their favorite to be around her

they don't have any feelings towards Arlo

Sade is a fashion designer and occasionally works with Luss, occasionally

Kallo is a mechanic

originally i had him as a surfer dude but i decided not to

the twins live a long long way away from Wellston and the rest of the family and have no intention of ever going back

theyre both closest to eachother obviously

they both have a lot of trust issues (all of them do) and only really trust eachother

again not sure about abilities

might want Kallo to have some variation of his mom's rather than their dads tho, or maybe a combo of both

i think ill keep Sade w a shield variant

also dk abt sexuality 🤷

i feel like at least one of them would be aro or ace tho. maybe like one is aro and the other is ace lol

ok so now that im done w the siblings

mr dad man's name is Vickaius. hes Valerie's brother. not sure if i want him to be older or younger.

he has long yellow hair (usually up in a pony tail) and gold eyes

yes im terrible and am making him an attractive dilf you cant stop me i have no self control

if it makes u feel any better i'll probably make the mom a milf too

anyway

i kinda wanna give him a scar or two and/or an eyepatch

def a god tier. some type of shield ability. i think i want him to be like a 7.1

he/him or he/she not sure what i want

tbh probably bisexual but thinks he's straight for whatever reason

6'5-7 or smth

fun fact he's currently in jail :)

the moms name is Ariella and she has curly hair and blue eyes. im not sure if i want her to have blonde or brown hair

i dont have much to say abt her tbh. not bc i dont care abt her but like. in my arlo fam plot while she is relevant and important she isnt like. you dont need to know about her. if that makes sense

i do know that i want her to be exactly a whole foot shorter than Vickaius bc i think its hilarious

context for post: arlo hcs

other related stuff: [REDACTED]

[oflostinfound]

@royalreef from [Here]

|| 🔷 ||: ❝ I... I see... ❞

It was oddly pretty, the way the strands hanging from the knots were waving in the wind. The decoration- or warning, now that she'd been informed- adding that splash of color to the otherwise normal brown and green scenery of the woods.

Her curiosity was piqued, how part of her wanted to brave the warning to discover it's meaning, but the princess had made it clear going that way was... not the best idea.

|| 🔷 ||: ❝ We can go a different path, there's a split back the way we came that should lead to the same place... ❞

She turns her head to look at her companion, tilting her head quizzically,

|| 🔷 ||: ❝ What does that mean to your people? ❞

[phantomdecibel]

Your writing is so character-centric and like. Good at dynamics and characterization and I’m just like “GIVE THAT TO MEEEEEEE”

ashfjgfhgsfjhkjhghdgdgfjkhljjggdsfdgjghkfhgddgdhjfkhhohofusgsggdfjhkhkkghfsgsgfhjghkhkjfstfs haha thanks :D

I’m. not so sure I’m qualified to give writing advice or even if ur looking for it lol, but I’ll write down my… kinda my thought process? and try to make it coherent haha

I dunno I think it’s mostly a matter of… like. getting to know the character, yknow? getting to know their personality and body language (which is different for every person/character), what makes them different from other characters, and then taking all that and using it to determine their interactions with others!

I’ll use ma boi Eurylochus as an example :)

So like, I see euryl as a character w a very stoick face; really subtle expressions, kinda intimidating if u don’t know him. Trusts w his whole heart once u get there, but not incredibly trusting. He speaks more with actions than words for me, though he’s not afraid to say what he’s thinking if no one else will. But he’s also a huge mother hen; cares about everyone, will always do what’s best for the majority of the people under his care – but especially his friends. And, as a result of growing up as odys friend, he doesn’t have much respect for authority (which is less canon compliment lmao), but he respects odys as his friend. He trusts him, so bc odys is in charge of the ship, he’ll listen, but he doesn’t have much respect for his authority as king. Hence; casual mutiny that freaks out the rest of the crew.

So we’ve got: stoic and intimidating but caring man who respects his friends but not necessarily authority.

How does that affect his interactions with;

The crew? Intimidated by him, but not afraid of him. He’s their second in command and always speaks up for the good of the crew; so while they don’t know him well, they know that he’s looking out for them. They’d likely be a bit hesitant to approach him, but still be willing to do so. Baffled and concerned by his seemingly lack of respect for odys (ie picking him up and dragging him off with no fear of repercussions), and would likely get pretty confused by all of his seemingly mutinous actions, but they’d eventually come to realize that at the very least, odys is never gonna call him out for it.

Strangers? Intimidated as hell, prolly a bit scared of him. It’s probably a reaction he wouldn’t mind; helps him keep his crew safe if the possible danger doesn’t want to mess a him, though it comes w it’s drawbacks. Strangers would see him like a brick wall, unless they were really good at or used to observing subtle body language.

And then the people he’s closest to; odys and poli;

A bit more complicated – each ‘main’ character has their own personality, each are essentially their own category, and that comes out doubly so when interacting w other characters they’re close to, like in this situation. I’ll just lump odys n poli together for the sake of simplicity, but they’ve each got their own unique way their characters mesh w one another.

odys n poli would know euryl’s body language and personality, and vice versa. They have no fear of him at all, not intimidated in the slightest, so the way they interact w him is a lot different than the crew who treats him as an authority figure, or strangers who’re intimidated by him. Honestly I wouldn’t put it past either of them to try and sit on his shoulders if they need a better view, but that’s not important right now lol. Point is; there’s gotta be a much larger sense of familiarity in their interactions with and around him.

odys n poli bring out a more obviously… playful? side of him; because they’re all friends, and are playful w each other. And vice versa – they’re playful around him, so he’s more playful around him, so they’re more playful now too, like a feedback loop!

Another thing is that, when writing from euryls perspective, or, well, any characters perspective, that helps determine how well they can talk/think abt what other characters are thinking. He knows odys n poli; so he can more reliably say “oh this is how he’s feeling” bc he knows how they react to things, what their body language is like. He can’t do that w strangers or as reliably w the crew – other than the base conclusion that they’re intimidated by him, which would be a bit more obvious – so that would influence how he interacts w them! I try and think about that a lot; how would this character react to the same situation, just involving different characters. How would euryl react in a situation w odys or poli, whom he knows and can, reliably enough, tell how they’re feeling v how would he react in the same situation but with a crew member or stranger, who he doesn’t know the tells of? That kind of thing, yknow?

…I also just treat them like cats. Any character I write? That there’s a cat now–

How would a cat react? That’s how that character reacts lmao–

But seriously it’s mostly just. a Lot of cause-and-effect, yknow? That’s how I try and write characters and like, character interactions :)

Hope that all made sense lol

[orphilos]

“ ah, minato ! “ outstretched arm waves proudly with warmest greetings, ever so fortunate in being able to catch him on the journey back to the dormitories before cherished headphones were popped over ears, obfuscating all background noise and corridor chatter. “ wait just a moment ! i have something for you ! “ elongated steps make their way closer to the familiar position of his side, tugging gently upon the zip of his own satchel to unveil not one, not two, but three pristinely – wrapped packages bound together with luminescent ribbons in order to hold their loose forms in sturdy shape.

“ i might have heard that you have not had the chance to eat as well as our senpai would like during your excursions and late – night activities, and i took this as an opportunity to also try some new recipes to put forward as suggestions to the café’s menu in order to change things up a bit ! “

the culinary treasures that awaited inside ranged from a bento box adorned with carrot stars and daikon bunnies, accompanied by a curry crafted with equal amounts of spicy – sweet. there too was some chocolate truffles with a refreshing mint aroma and two ice – cold bottles of strawberry lemonade.

there was some leftover materials from the time they had been sewing all sorts of things, resourcefulness being a quality to be most appreciated on this occasion. why stop at a scarf when an entire winter set could be crafted to protect against the coming onslaught of falling snow ? and last, but by no means least, the pièce de résistance. technological skills were aptly summoned, using every spare minute available to download and burn several days worth of songs onto a single cd  — ranging from those little melodies that held such reverence in the other’s heart, becoming such a quintessential part of his life,  songs introduced by minato that always bestowed poignant reminders of his presence and wonderful symphonies that the two of them took such pleasure revelling in upon a single note.

“ one care package for our honourary helper ! our little club really wouldn’t be the same without your valuable input, dear leader. the smiles that you have been able to bring to everyone around school have made such a difference. now, all that’s left to do is to see your own smile a little bit more ! only then, will our club have reached its full potential. its fate rests solely in your hands ! “ ( one super long ask at your service ! ) ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ

ONLY A VOICE OF FAMILIARLY is enough to halt his movement, head whipping around to spot that of his friend classmate, Mochizuki Ryoji. with his arm extended high up at blue sky followed with an somewhat rather upbeat movement, a contrast to that of his own motion — undoubtedly, a sight that had gainer the attention of many ( annoyingly ) curious onlooking's. although, it'll be rather hypocritical of himself to say, as he too, would've done the same had this situation been done by another.

( ...still, he couldn't hide back his own amusement from such a sight alone ! )

&& although Ryoji has never shy away from finding any means to stick relatively close to that of the fool  —  it is rather what would come after, that bought an unexpected wave of surprise !

❛ . . . !! ❜

a rare change for the one's aloof appearance that belonged to Arisato Minato was now distorted into the purest of shock ! brows slightly furrowed, with cerulean hues widening at the mere sight before him — ( ❝ You didn't have too—... ❞ ) && indeed, such kindness was never needed nor was it ever a requirement. he is only doing what he had been told to do, ( nothing more && nothing less... )

&& yet, while rosy lips parted to speak out of such statement ( no words actually manage to escape. ) only stopping once realizing who he was up against... ( call it a lucky guess, if you must ) but even Minato was not idiotic enough to think Ryoji would take ' no ' for an answer so easily.

( && frankly, it'll be too much trouble to try. )

❛ ...Right. ❜ a delayed response finally comes after quite some time of figuring of what to say, certainly the response was worth more than that of his monotone voice  —  still, even if his tone alone seemed lackluster ( uncaring, perhaps ) there was still a clear sign of appreciation ( simply in much more different && unexpected way..! ) one in which he normally avoided with many, aside from a select few... ( fortunately enough, Ryoji was one of those few, he allowed. )

❛ Let's... Let's share this together. ❜

@enshijou !