The crooked smile that creeps up on Ryuji's face like a toddler who knows he's about to slip his hand into the fattest cookie jar known to man when his mom's back is turned. It's downright dirty.
Mr. Talent.
Hajimememashite
BF (beautiful forehead)
Ryuji sucks in air through his teeth, and low, carefully, he lets out---]
Hajime, don't gimme permission like that, you know what typa guy I am.
[And now that he's probably thoroughly rekt the poor kid, he doesn't loosen his grasp (still has an eye on you, kid)- his attention returns to his beautiful sidekick thief. Kickthief. Sidethief.
Still in that low voice, though-]
Anyone that's makin' a thrust for power... can't keep your eyes offa them, y'know? You give in one little thing and the next thing you know, we're in a freakin' dictatorship.
no subject
The crooked smile that creeps up on Ryuji's face like a toddler who knows he's about to slip his hand into the fattest cookie jar known to man when his mom's back is turned. It's downright dirty.
Mr. Talent.
Hajimememashite
BF (beautiful forehead)
Ryuji sucks in air through his teeth, and low, carefully, he lets out---]
Hajime, don't gimme permission like that, you know what typa guy I am.
[And now that he's probably thoroughly rekt the poor kid, he doesn't loosen his grasp (still has an eye on you, kid)- his attention returns to his beautiful sidekick thief. Kickthief. Sidethief.
Still in that low voice, though-]
Anyone that's makin' a thrust for power... can't keep your eyes offa them, y'know? You give in one little thing and the next thing you know, we're in a freakin' dictatorship.