#if you couldn't tell I drew the doodles before I wrote which is why he's still holding the book open LMAO

[rosethreeart]

Arthur gets some Flashbacks to His Youth™️

Based off of this little convo with apersonwholikeslotus :>

I...Started writing cause this thought consumed my brain for a moment so here have a little snippet of the School of Punk AU of how this scene actually plays out :}

Arthur could hear the sound of his daughter’s pounding feet against the wood of the floor before he even saw her.

“Dad!” Abigail exclaimed, the flooring  beneath rapidly squeaked as eagerly shuffled in place.

Not wanting to lose his place in his book, he halfheartedly paid attention to her as he searched for his bookmark, “Yes, poppet?”

A few more footsteps later, this time muffled by the carpet she had just stepped onto, Arthur could see the silhouette of his daughter in his peripheral. 

Ah, there it was. Cheeky little thing slipped between the couch cushions. 

“Daaaaaad!” His daughter whined.

Sighing as he finished placing the bookmark in its designated slot, he looked up at her.

There she was, standing in the living room in his old punk jacket. It was a red so dark it was almost black, just like his daughter’s long and wildly curly hair. The patches he had sown on it when he was but a teen were still there, although some were fraying at the seams. The leather seemed to be fine, no leather rot in sight, much to his subconscious relief. It fit poorly on her as it was a few sizes too big, almost completely enveloping her arms and hands. 

“What do you think? Pretty cool, innit?” Abigail said as she gave a little twirl, showing it off.

“Yeah…” He said, not fully present in the moment. 

Abigail immediately stopped her little modeling gig, “Something wrong?” she asked.

Arthur blinked a few times in order to force himself to focus,”No. No, nothing is wrong.”

His daughter began to play with one of the small little pieces on the jacket,”Are you sure? I know I’m not really supposed to go up to the attic by myself, and—”

“It’s alright,” He said, cutting her off gently as he stood up. Were his knees always this achy? 

A bittersweet smile graced his lips as he approached his daughter who was staring curiously at him with bright hazel eyes. 

“That was my jacket you know,” He began to say as he adjusted said clothing to better fit the girl, “ Actually, I got it when I was about your age; maybe a little bit older.”

“Am I getting some dad lore?” Abigail said in that blunt manner of hers.

Arthur did a slight double-take, “Pardon?”

“Y’know? Dad lore? Where your dad never really talks about anything from their past until really random moments and it’s always the most bizarre thing you’ve ever heard?” Abigail stated as if she was asking him if he knew what a bird was. 

“No need to get cheeky,” he chided, “but I see your point.”

His eyes’ softened as he watched her nose crinkle and her braces-filled smile widened as she giggled. 

“Do you want it?” He asked her, “I…suppose I have no use for it anymore.”

“Does that make you sad?” Abigail said, tilting her head slightly.

Arthur chuckled, “I suppose the ever creeping march of time can be a bit disheartening, but it can be a wonderful thing too.”

“Are you getting sappy on me?” 

“Oh, very much so,” He said as he pulled his little one into a hug, which she gleefully returned. 

“Are you sure I can have it,” She asked, voice muffled by his sweater.

He caressed her leather coated arm with his thumb. It was odd to feel the leather of it on his skin again. It had been so many years since he had last seen, let alone felt it…

“Of course, darling.” He planted a quick kiss on her head, “Would much rather have you wear it than let it keep collecting dust up there.”

“Be careful with it,” He said a little more sternly than he intended, “it’s old…and important…and valuable…and—”

“I get it,” Abigail groaned, “it’s a frail old man whose seen stuff, just like you.” a smirk appeared on her face in that silly little way it did when she was joking.

“Oi!” He feigned hurt feelings, ”I’m not that old.”

“You’re getting there!”

“Don’t make me take that bloody jacket back.” He replied dryly.

“Nooo!” She laughed.

Arthur watched as Abigail eventually flitted away to show off her jacket to her step-brother. That thing had been there for him in his darkest of times, the weight it carried will always be there with him, even if the jacket no longer was. It was still hard to let that era of his life go, it seemed, however he was very glad that it found a new home with someone that he knew would love it just as dearly as he did. 

#hetalia #my art #aph nyo america #my writing #school of punk au #if you couldn't tell I drew the doodles before I wrote which is why he's still holding the book open LMAO

[sleepyowlwrites]

find the word tag CCLXVI

okay! I got new seaweed snacks, I got milk tea mochi that are SO GOOD, I got the complete works of Jane Austen and I got a pair of leggings! today's errands were acceptable. @talesofsorrowandofruin @josephinegerardywriter

trail (the illusion, 2012)

Torash ran in front of me, pushing branches aside or hacking at them with his sword when they wouldn't give way. Our pursuers had dogs tracking our smell anyway, so no amount of caution would hide our trail until we reached the river. Speed was what mattered now. Verain ran behind me, making no sounds while Torash and I crashed through the bushes that blocked our path. I couldn't even hear her breathing, but knew she was there, protecting my back just like before. My own heart thudded against my ribcage, beating for all it was worth, my lungs trying to give me the air I needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

tomorrow (youth story d0)

“I’ll perish without your touch on my skin!” He raked a hand through his hair. “And I can’t perish because I’m fighting Isanz tomorrow night.”

“What, again? Stop trying to make him your mortal enemy, R. You can’t even bring yourself to steal his food at lunchtime.”

R slumped back against Evie despite her groan of protest. “You’re right. And Lucas already called him anyway.”

“Daniel hates when you call him that.”

“Which is exactly why I call him that. Walk forward.”

tact (I know I have this in a fanfic but I don't wanna open the doc)

thunder lightning (youth story d0 - I know I have thunder in a fanfic but I don't wanna open the doc)

“Does Nyks require body to body contact to exist?” Jae wrote next to the doodle of a hedgehog.

R drew a bad, generic lightning bolt and shook his head. “He’ll exist without it, but he draws energy from living beings, especially humans, and it’s easier to get that energy if there’s contact, and before you ask, no, it doesn’t hurt us to have our energy stolen. It’s more like, uh, shared? Instead of him just taking energy and burning through it, we can share energy if we’re very close in the same space, so it’s not exhausting for us to energize him.”

found (always never, never always, 2021)

the thing is:

that he never had eyes. he never had eyes but he could always see. he never had eyes and he could always see, especially when he saw right through me

and he never had fingers but he could hold my hand he never had fingers and he held my hand, especially on days when I found it harder to stand

and he never had memory but he could remember me he never had memory and he remembered me, especially when I thought I had maybe stopped existing

follow (youth story d0)

Nyks thought it was Evie’s hand that pinched Daniel, making him yelp, but there was elated giggling to follow and the mood only got warmer from there. R crashed into them with all the force his skinny, gangly limbs could muster, gracefully catching Bell before she could land hard on concrete.

“Where’s Mark?”

“Late.” Daniel sounded sour, so Nyks rubbed his head on his shoulder. Daniel pat him in thanks.

“I’m right here,” Mark said behind them, and Nyks could feel Daniel already turning around to scold him, so he acted first.

“I missed you!” He said joyfully, jumping on top of their slightly late friend knowing he’d be caught. “It’s been so lonely without you.”

Mark coughed a little. “You saw me last night, though?”

“Too long.”

fine (summon story d0)

“If I don’t like something you’re doing, then-?”

“Then tell us, idiot.” Zan placed his hands back on his hips, his eyebrows challenging Wryn to reply correctly.

Wryn almost smiled. “Alright. I’ll tell you. When you help with breakfast-”

“No, that doesn’t count! I burned your breakfast one time because you snuck up behind me and startled me!” Zan glowered at them. “Every other time it’s been fine. I’m a good cook, better than Erin or Shae. So no more complaining about that.”

Wryn did smile, their lips widening without peeling back once. “Fair.”

figure (summon story d0)

“You’re mad to do that out in the open.”

Shae whirled around, one foot dragging through the ashes behind her, destroying the effectiveness of the array in seconds.

The voice had come from above her, a lump of shadow perched on the roof. The lump shifted and stretched, finding form while accompanied by the sound of bone on stone. Shae rolled her shoulders uncomfortably as the figure dropped down in a coordinated heap. As per usual, Shae had nothing on hand except her ruby knife, which she was loathe to use as a weapon.

What moved toward her wasn’t a person, or at least, not a whole person. Their clothes - only a coat and trousers reminiscent of a boat captain - hung off their frame loosely. As they stepped into the lantern light, Shae could see why. They had no body, or no flesh, rather. In place of muscle and skin swirled a miasma of dark red smoke. It was mostly opaque and seemed to keep the bones of the skeleton linked and able to move. Shae had no idea what to call such a thing. Her books had never suggested this was even possible, much less something just hanging out on rooftops like a spare chimney.

remember, return, relate, repair, respond. BONUS: rescind, rearrange. @drippingmoon for Grimes content, @akindofmagictoo for Nyks content, @diphthongsfordays for poetry content @writing-with-melon because I had honeydew today @gottaenjoythelittlethingzz because we were talking about Wryn

#find the word tag #tag game #searching circle #alliteration agency