#meant to be a simple doodle but i got carried away

[ratxklng]

info about benitoite?

benitoites are deeply knowledgeable aristocrats, a gift created by umbra diamond for empyreal diamond. they are shrinekeepers and historians, preserving the deep past of gemkind. they are often passive and wisdomous in nature, quaintly tending to the old structures that were built long ago. when you interact with one, they wouldnt mind telling tales, legends, and stories about triumphs and sorrows that happened throughout their history. they have a very keen memory, able to perfectly memorize their experiences and knowledge throughout their immortal lives! my benitoite is a prime example of this gem type.

benitoites are not all too common, which can add mysteriousness if you were to be lucky enough to see one with your very eyes. benitoites are deeply treasured, and are very overtly loyal to the diamonds. some rebels say their history lessons may be a bit skewed in their favor...

[moss-on-a-pebble]

Matt Engarde doodles cuz I hate him

Last one was meant to be more simple but I got carried away

[angelbitezzz]

would a doodle of my boy Alt be okay?

This WAS meant to be a simple doodle but I got carried away ^^"

Hope you like! He was fun to draw :)

[nyuheartbreak]

this was meant to be a simple doodle, but i like hatching so i got carried away with it in the end

[fic-heaven]

Say my name (König x witty! reader)

Pt1/ Pt.2 Tantrum

🐥A very short part two of two requests I had

.

Dreams of you tormented König every single night since that day at the armory.

His brain was like a swarm of wasps stinging at every nerve on his body every time you passed by, those gorgeus eyes of yours giving him this knowing look that spoke a thousand words, heavily implying that you have not forgotten what happend between you two. So he opted to ignore you like before. But worse. He'd avoid you now.

König was your colonel, you had to know of his commands, he was very aware of this so instead of using his walkie-talkie or inform you directly he decided to use other operators as homing pigeons and whenever they protested he'd show one of his intimidating glares and insist with his authoritative tone. It always worked. But not with Horangi.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

If König glared any harder he'd burst a vein tainting his cerulean eyes red with blood. "Deliver the message. It is an order."

Horangi took off his sunglasses, a weird sight to see, and squinted at his colonel like he was looking up at the blinding sun. "You want me to deliver the very important message of refiling this one particular paper to (c/n)? You are aware I could do it instead, we hold the same rank." Once he was finished he slid his glasses back on.

König was stiff, eyes adverting to the side for a millisecond with a squint. "Do it anyway...?"

Horangi knew something was up, specially since one quick look at the paper reminded him that these documents were already finished weeks ago, he delivered them himself. His colonel had been quite distracted lately and that's something worrying in König judging by how hyper focused he was about everything, specially his job. The operator smiles under his facemask, he crosses his arms and tilts his head as if he had figured the most amusing thing ever.

"Having problems in paradise, sir?"

König took a moment to figure what he meant, this expression was new to him, soon he frowned. "There is no 'paradise' and no problem with me. The only problem here is that you are refusing to obey a direct order from your colonel-"

"König... Come on." Horangi insists but it's clear his friend doesn't want to keep dwelling on this, so he slightly folds the paper, nods at his colonel and leaves his office with a low "Right away, sir." before closing the door.

The way the Austrian deflated made his long body mold to his chair. He's been quite nervous to be around you, the memories of your last (very intimate) interaction became a constant on his brain affecting his work performance, even going as far as not letting him rest properly, the image of you appearing on his very own dreams, your voice a mermaid's call encouraging König to approach and do things to your body that never failed to wake him up with a raging boner. It has been roughly a year and a half since König was promoted to colonel and he was letting a simple operator like you put his position at risk. His hands took a pencil from a red cup he used as penholder and begun writing and doodling absentmindedly on a random white paper to occupy his hands while he waited for the refilled documents to be delivered to him. The distraction was very much needed.

His hands trembled a little as König applied sole pressure on the surface. Memories of your lips moving when you said his name with that sweet voice of yours carried his mind to the moment he felt them against his skin, the delicious feeling of your soft fingertips caressing along the skin of his long neck. The sudden (but expected) erection he got caused the colonel to growl, his other unoccupied hand fisted slamming the table twice before his eyes refocused looking down at the piece of paper he was drawing on. König had doodled a few realistic octopuses wearing crowns along some scribbles of his own name in different letterings and lastly, in the lower right corner of the paper under one of his scribbles was doodled something he has never done before. A human face. Your face. God knows the only thing König was able to draw was his favorite animal and little else... But the memory of your beautiful complexion, your hair, your cute nose, long lashes and scars amongst other things were so clear on his mind his hands carried the tip of the pencil in elegant strokes until he was met by your beautiful face smirking at him from the paper.

"Schau mich nicht so an." (Don't look at me like that.)

Seconds after admiring the doodle before him, the colonel couldn't help but pleasure himself using his memories and the small doodle he made of you as material. It was pathetic, it was disgusting, it was so embarrassing he couldn't help but feel compleat and utter shame and frustration, he couldn't cum... It wasn't enough, it wasn't real. But before he could dwell more on his troubles a quick knock on the door startled him. König quickly thrusted the paper inside one of his drawers, hid his aching cock in the confines of his pants and cleared his throat. "Do come in."

Horangi was back, he was quiet when he placed the paper on the table counter before he confusedly looked around König's table wondering what he was doing since his computer wasn't on and his table was well organized.

"Here uh, here it is." König thanked him with a nod, he sniffed loudly casually picking the paper handed to him, sky eyes scanning across the paper eating up the view of your beautiful calligraphy. But Horangi didn't leave, and that made König look up at him expectantly.

"Something the matter?" He asked. And oh there was plenty Horangi wanted to say and ask, but instead he simply said: "She's with someone else." It was said in a rush, as if Horangi was speaking with a stick shoved up his ass, like he was trying to tame an angry bull.

When König heard this he frowned slowly lowering the paper to his Ikea table's surface that had suffered too many slams to count. "With someone else." He repeats.

Horangi scratches his masked chin, flexes his hands and says "Probably a lover..."

"A lover." König echoes once more as if Horangi was giving him English lessons, his breaths coming a little hard making his mask inflate and deflate on the nose's area.

"Yeah, they were together in her office. Felt like I interrupted something."

König stands up pushing his chair back and leans his body forwards very slowly planting both hands on the table supporting his stance, the other operator leans back intimidated.

"Interrupted something." König blinks rapidly this time sounding demanding.

Horangi nods awkwardly.

"Something? What is 'something'?" His German accent was so pronounced it was almost difficult to understand what he was saying.

"I am not sure..." Horangi muttered, König was silent waiting for him to continue. "...Sex maybe...? They were sweaty, wearing baggy clothes but... In her office and standing too close. Even while she was completing the paperwork you sent-."

"Get out."

The KorTac operator turned back swiftly, rushed off and closed the door with a low thud. He didn't take one full step away before he heard a loud crash followed by a loud thud against the door, it was easy to guess what it could be what smashed the door when he looked downwards and spotted a thin wooden chair leg peeking out the splintered wood of the poor door, the tiny, white wheel at the tip was still rolling.

"Well, she's fucked." Horangi says before walking off.

[nex-kyit]

Decompression "doodles" pt2: Sola. I've found that guns are one of the funnest things to draw, so of course I had to draw her <3 next. These were meant to be simple doodles as well, but I uh... got carried away.

And yeah, technically she should be wearing her helmet but these were supposed to be fun I didn't want to deal with designing a helmet.

[citrine-elephant]

what are they

[tecochet]

here are my babies (◡‿◡✿)

[azurityarts]

Daily Doodle #2

apples.

This was meant to be a simple and messy line sketch, but I got carried away when tinkering with colours. shinx go nom

[sleeperswakewriting]

Petra muddles up love confession letters to her former crushes with the ones to each member of her family, and in a hurry, she ends up sending the love letters. She's terrified when she finds out and when Captain Levi approaches her with a letter in his hand as she sees the Commander Erwin who also got one coming toward her, she doesn't know anymore what she's doing and kisses Levi in front of Erwin. (Established Rivetra?)

this is so much crack and insanity. I love to all the boys I've loved before. fun fact, I listened to this soundtrack on repeat when I started grad school. something about the order of the songs inspired confidence 🥰

Rating: T

Pairings: Erwin x Petra, Erwin x Mike, Petra x Levi

Word count: 770

Letter writing was one of Petra’s passions in life. Family, brother, sister, cousin—Petra wrote them at least once a week to keep them all up to date on her life. The other reason, the one she kept close to her heart, was when she inevitably met her untimely death, her family would have several letters to remember her by.

 She sent her letters off every Saturday morning, postmarked by Monday, and she’s kept this routine since she was a cadet. The stationary changed based on the season, keeping her letter paper simple, but the envelopes were often in bright and overly ornate colorful paper. It was autumn, which meant orange and yellow envelopes made up her writing desk to complement the hues of the trees. 

It surprised her when she noticed Levi carrying an identical envelope as he swiftly approached her, his mouth pressed into a taut line. It was unlike him to be late for training, but maybe he received paperwork he needed to attend to. Dressed in identical white cotton shirts, with Petra wearing green shorts that cut off right below her ass, and Levi’s an inch above his knees, she was just warming up for a run as she leaned to her left for a stretch. 

“Captain!” she greeted cheerfully, but her eyes zeroed in on the letter in his hands. In neat, cursive handwriting, unmistakeably hers, the front of the letter read: Captain Levi. A heart was drawn to the side, followed by assorted patterns and doodles, and Petra was sure this had to be a nightmare. That was the only explanation as to why Levi held her love letter—a letter that was never supposed to reach his hands. 

In addition to writing letters to her family and friends, Petra found it cathartic to write when she felt overcome with love. In a position like hers, romance was off the table, and like most young women, she flitted from crush to crush. It started with Levi—back when she was young and still a cadet, and she squashed those feelings the moment she joined his squad. A few other men in between, and she processed them the same way she always did, with writing. 

Currently, she was harboring a crush on their effervescent commander, Erwin Smith. Tall, blond, handsome, she always found him attractive. It was just a harmless crush, enjoying the giddy feeling during meetings, and how he complimented her work. Their friendship over books and writing instruments helped, but she was always able to keep her feelings at bay. It wasn’t until he started dating Mike that things changed. Jealousy reared its ugly head. 

Mike was a close friend to everyone on the squad, and seeing Erwin draping his arm over his shoulder ignited a deep melancholy inside Petra. She wanted a partnership, but she was dedicated to the Scouts, to Levi, and anything related to dating would just get in the way. 

So, as she did when she was ready to put those feelings aside, she wrote Erwin a letter last week. Among her writing, she reflected on her past loves, noting with grim optimism that this too, shall pass. 

“Oi, Ral. We need to talk.” 

Eld, Gunther, and Oluo were already running around the track, and Petra nervously wondered if she could get away with running away from Levi. He’d catch up, the damn bastard was fast and never broke a sweat. 

But it didn’t mean she shouldn’t try. 

She took off, sprinting like an Abnormal chased her, but it took five seconds for Levi to catch up. 

“OI!” he shouted, tugging at her shirt. “Is that how you treat your commanding officer?!”

Petra stopped, face flushed, her gaze not tearing from the letter in Levi’s hand. 

“Look, Ral, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, or if this is some dare from Eld, but this type of language is strictly unprofessional. I admire you as a colleague—“ 

Levi’s words grew muddled like she was underwater. In the distance, just a few feet away, hand in hand, were Erwin and Mike, making their way towards the track. In Erwin’s other hand?

Her letter. 

“Fuck!” she cried, then looked side to side. In a moment of insanity, she pulled Levi to her, but she slipped, crashing them to the ground as she pressed her lips to his. Levi yelped in his throat, but she chased it down, praying to the goddesses that Erwin saw them. Not now. She couldn’t lose her friends, even if she just ruined her relationship with her boss. 

The angry expression on Levi’s face told her otherwise. 

[moonbeamwritings]

annoyances and nosebleeds

Summary: In which you really hate Tōru Oikawa (or, more accurately, the time you realized that may not be entirely true).

A/N: this is my first haikyuu fic, so pls be very gentle with me! let me know what you think!

If there was one thing you knew with utmost certainty, it was that Tōru Oikawa was the single most annoying person you’d ever met. 

Not only did his gaggle of fangirls make you late for class at least once a week, blocking nearly the entire hallway as they giggled and whispered among themselves about who was giving Oikawa a present this time, but the boy himself was arguably more obnoxious— if that was even humanly possible.

He was aggravating and smug, always teasing you about his higher grades and poking and prodding at you for being single. So what if maybe, sometimes— on very rare occasions— you found his smile kinda cute in a “I want to punch him in the face” sort of way? You hated him and no amount of charm was ever going to solve that.

Right?

Your heart raced as your teacher worked through the list of partnerships for an upcoming project, leg bouncing restless as you waited, breath caught in your throat. As you heard your name being called, you prayed to whoever would listen that you wouldn’t end up with him.

Across the room, Oikawa was working through a similar internal monologue. He hated you in equal measure, that much was true. He hated your stick-in-the-mud attitude and the way you rubbed your grades in his face. He hated the way you glared at him and his fangirls in the hallways or the way you made a point of congratulating Iwa-chan on volleyball wins, but refused to do the same for him. 

He hated the confident lilt in your voice when you contributed something in class and the bright, almost blinding, light of your smile as you laughed with your friends at lunch. Well, maybe ignore that last part. Oikawa hated you. Plain and simple.

“... you will be working with Oikawa.”

Oikawa heard Iwaizumi and Makki snickering at the news, sending him teasing glances as they joked about his bad luck. Oh, if looks could kill.

Meanwhile, you’d decided that today, and the next two weeks where you’d be subjected to Oikawa’s company, was about to be the lowest point of your life. You couldn’t wait.

The moment the bell rang, signaling the end of an incredibly long day, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Oikawa sauntered over to your desk, teasing smirk already on his face.

This was gonna be good.

“It seems the tides of fate have blessed us both, hmm.” The way he spoke your name, tacking on a sarcastic honorific as he put on a front of sweetness, made your stomach churn.

“Trust me, Oikawa,” you bit back, closing your notebooks as you packed your things, “I don’t like this anymore than you do.”

He pouted, planting his hands on either side of your desk, leaning down to invade your line of vision, “I don’t know. I think you do. You are secretly in love with me, after all.” 

He watched in amusement as your face contorted in disgust, “and lest we forget I am smarter than you.”

“Bold words from someone who took a volleyball to the face last week.” You refused to look at him, shoving the rest of your things in your bag in an attempt to make this conversation as short as possible.

Your words only seemed to spur him on though. You could practically hear the way he was smirking, the bastard. “Hey, I thought you said you don’t come to our practices with all of my… hmmm, what did you call them again? Fangirls, was it?”

As you zipped your bag, he leaned over again, this time successfully getting you to look at him, “Are you a fangirl?”

With a huff, you stood from your seat, brushing your shoulder against Oikawa’s as you moved towards the classroom door. “I would rather keel over and die, Oikawa. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He caught up with you quickly, falling into stride with you as he shot a hand up to grip at his chest, “You wound me. I don’t think I can possibly go on.”

“Good,” you spoke resolutely. “Listen, I don’t want to talk to you any longer than I have to, so let’s make this as painless as possible. Just meet me in the library when you get out of practice.”

Without so much as a backward glance, you clicked your locker shut and ventured off, completely ignoring the mocking words Oikawa threw your way, whining about how he could really feel the love from where he was standing. Asshole.

The first meeting went about as well as you’d expected, with Oikawa arriving well after when you knew volleyball ended, seemingly more interested in making you suffer than he was in actually getting work done.

“Will you quit it? I’m not carrying this whole thing because you’re too lazy to do anything.”

He had his head resting in his palm, eyes memorizing the little crease between your brows as you got more angry. He wasn’t really listening to you and you could tell.

Sighing, you pressed two fingers against the inner corners of your eyes. “I hate you. Have I told you that yet today?”

“You might’ve once or twice. Or a hundred times. I’ve started to lose count,” he replied with a playful smile.

The next few meetings carried on much the same. You met with Oikawa after volleyball practice, you would get about an hour of work done before he began picking on you again, doodling on your papers or teasing you about being in love with him, and then you’d go home and complain about him to your friends.

Your life fell into an incredibly mundane cycle— go to school, meet with Oikawa, go home, and do homework— day in and day out. Until one particularly bad day sent you reeling, in more ways than one. You’d woken up late, forgotten an assignment, failed a test, and that was only the beginning of a very long list of grievances. It was overwhelming, to say the least. You’d been feeling the academic pressure for weeks; as if you had a storm cloud looming over you, invading your mind and making it harder and harder to work on your homework. You knew what needed to be done, but it never seemed like it was good enough, especially not today.

So, as you sat and waited for Oikawa’s practice to end, you allowed yourself to cry. Dark clouds usually meant rain, didn’t they? Hot, wet tears cascaded down your cheeks, slipping off your chin only to splatter across your papers, smearing the ink as they went. Furiously, you attempted to stop the flow, wiping tear after tear away until you finally resigned yourself to the pathetic mental image of what you must look like— alone, crying in some back corner of the library as you tried to muffle the hiccups that threatened to spill from your mouth.

In your flurry of emotions, you failed to hear the muffled thud of sneakers along the carpet.

“Hey,” a gentle voice called out, “you okay?”

Oikawa.

Bile slipped up the back of your throat at the idea of being caught by him, the sound of his voice nearly reinvigorating your tears as humiliation burned your skin. Barely able to muster the courage to speak, you simply nodded your head, wiping the remaining tears with the soft sleeve of your sweater.

Picking up your pen and completely ignoring the uneven sound of your voice, you began taking notes again. “Let’s just get to work.”

Oikawa was quick to sink into the seat across from you, mind reeling at what he’d just seen. His mouth fell open as he watched you, eyes still glassy, as your pen glided across your notebook.

You had just been crying. You didn’t really expect him to just carry on with the project, to just ignore the distress he’d walked in on, did you?

He gave you a hard time, pushing your buttons and making fun of you, but all along he’d assumed it was little more than hatred— physical and verbal manifestations of how frustrated he was that you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Now, with concern gripping at his chest after having seen you fall apart, he wasn’t quite sure what to think anymore.

“You’re not really about to act like nothing happened, are you?” A mirthless chuckle sounding from his throat, a tentative hand reaching out to stop your pen. “I know you think I’m an idiot, but this is downright insulting.”

“What do you want me to say, Oikawa? Don’t act like you’re some knight in shining armor after all this time.

Ow.

“I’m not heartless. Tell me what’s wrong.”

His words were short, leaving absolutely no room for debate. It was now or never.

“I’ve just felt a lot of academic pressure recently, that’s all.”

Oikawa nodded along and for once in his life, seemed to be genuinely listening to you. His hand hadn’t left yours.

“And?” He urged you to continue, leaning in slightly to take in your words.

“It’s just been a lot. I get good grades, sure, but it never seems good enough.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened, your words sounding all too familiar. He’d had these exact conversations with himself as he sat in front of his TV, watching volleyball footage over and over again. He was good, but there was always someone better. He knew how exhausting that could be, knew— too well — that nagging feeling of worthlessness despite hard work.

Maybe you weren’t so different after all.

“I feel like that sometimes too,” a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it squeeze of your hand, “maybe we can learn together.”

You didn’t respond, you weren’t sure you could. It was as if the entire image of Oikawa you’d crafted was crumbling, fragments of hatred tumbling to the sides to reveal, what you could only assume was the real him. And in this moment, though you’d never admit it, you were grateful.

You nodded, “I think I’d like that.”

Oikawa had to bite back a jest, some ridiculous passing comment about how he knew that you’d been in love with him all along, but he didn’t in favor of savoring the gentle smile you’d graced him with.

The rest of your little meetings were amenable and your encounters in the school hallways even more so. It wasn’t a complete 180, but it was definitely noticeable.

Your friends caught on to the shy smile on your face after Oikawa shot a wave in your direction and practically the entire volleyball team had seen Oikawa blush after he’d seen you at lunch one day. And both groups were going to get to the bottom of it if it killed them.

“You were at each other’s throats literally just last week,” your friend groaned, sending pieces of popcorn across the table and into your hair. “What the hell happened?”

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” your other friend piped in. “You actually considered going to volleyball practice the other day. You’ve never gone willingly.”

“And, you actually smiled at him in the hallway!”

You brought your voice down to a whisper, not wanting to be overheard talking about something so stupid, “I don’t like Oikawa. He’s annoying and full of himself. You guys are seeing things.”

They were unconvinced.

Oikawa hadn’t been faring much better.

“Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi smirked, “you sure changed your tune.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “What’re you talking about?”

Iwaizumi pitched his voice up, a poor rendition of his best friend, “I can’t stand them Iwa-can~ How am I ever going to survive?” He dropped the act seconds later, elbowing the other player in the ribs, “Meanwhile you actually seem to enjoy doing this project with them.”

Makki and Mattsun laughed along before Mattsun interjected, “Don’t forget the blush!”

“Oh,” Makki howled, “how could we forget? He looked like a pink highlighter.”

All Oikawa could do was huff. “I don’t like them.”

And boy was he wrong.

With the project coming to an end, Oikawa laid awake, staring at his ceiling as he thought about how exactly he’d spend his time now that you weren’t meeting with him in the library every afternoon. Would you keep hanging out? Would you come to his games? What if you stopped smiling at him in school, returning to the bitter back-and-forths that had been so common before?

Oikawa shot up in bed, chest heaving and eyes wide. He liked you.

Oh no.

Across town, cuddled under the comforter in your own bedroom, you thought about Oikawa— as you had been most nights since you became partners. As your mind wandered, you realized that by now, you’d memorized the color of his eyes and that you could decipher exactly which of his smiles were genuine and which weren’t. You smiled as you thought about the feeling of your hand in his, about how warm his skin had felt against your own.

Your heart was in your throat. You were heading down a point of no return, one in which only humiliation awaited you. You liked Tōru Oikawa.

How cruel.

On your walk to school the following day, you’d decided that avoiding him would be the easiest option from here on out. The project was done and you were saving yourself the embarrassment of falling for someone who clearly would never be interested. You’d convinced yourself that day in the library had been a fluke, a trick of the light. He didn’t like you.

You ducked out of sight when he was about to pass in the halls, you pointedly looked elsewhere during class— whatever you could to suppress whatever feelings you had for him. All the while blissfully unaware of the effect you were having on the setter.

He knew this would happen, knew that the moment the project was submitted you’d begin to act differently, but he hadn’t thought you’d ignore him entirely. He almost missed the biting tone of voice you used whenever you scolded him, at least then you were looking at him, speaking to him.

He’d been so out of focus that during practice he’d taken one of Iwaizumi’s spikes directly to the face, sending blood dribbling down from his nose.

“Go take a walk,” Iwaizumi demanded, waving a hand in the direction of the door. “You’re no good if you’re just gonna stand there like a love-sick puppy.”

Sighing in defeat, Oikawa headed off, pinching the bridge of his nose as he went. His feet carried him along the tile, looping through hallways until he found himself outside of the library. You wouldn’t be in there, right? You didn’t really have any reason to be, not anymore.

Whatever.

Body on autopilot, he followed the familiar path, counting stacks as he walked along the main aisle. Rounding the final corner and expecting to be disappointed, he pinched his nose harder.

You let out a squeak at the sight of Oikawa, supposedly in the midst of volleyball practice, emerging from the stacks like a zombie, nose bloodied, face red and shiny with sweat.

“What are you-”

“I like you. A lot.” He had no idea where the words came from, but he wasn’t about to take them back now.

“Ha ha, very funny. You haven’t used that one before.”

A look crossed Oikawa’s face— one you hadn’t seen since the day he’d caught you crying.

Sincerity.

Your stomach flipped, “You’re not joking.”

He shook his head, using the back of his hand to wipe away the blood that was still steadily trickling from his nose.

Oh.

“I like you too.”

A smirk crossed Oikawa’s face, a joking lilt taking over his serious tone, “I knew it.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, bringing a hand up to rub your thumb against his cheekbone. It was sticky with sweat, but it was either that or landing a kiss to his lips and interrupting his nosebleed. Gross.

“Wanna meet me back here after practice?”

“God, yes.”

[earlgreymon]

相合傘

@taioraweek 2021 // [day 5] romantic date aiai-gasa means to share one umbrella among two persons. in an anime/manga, you might see someone in love doodling a simple umbrella before scribbling their names with their crush like this. that's aiai-gasa. wrote this down after become a little bit too infatuated with that famous taiora thunderstorm/raindrop quote. @dutchforstrangers said she wanted to read this, so i gave it a go. the autumn theme is of course inspired by @noctisfishing ;)

i.

girlfriend: Should we just stay inside? The forecast says it’s going to rain today.

boyfriend: It won’t.

girlfriend: …how do you know?

boyfriend: Because I bring sunshine wherever I go.

.

.

ii.

Sora had known Taichi for too long to be able to tell which was a strong premonition of his and which was just a mere joke stemmed out of his laziness. It was obvious he found carrying an umbrella was a hassle, especially when the sun was still hanging as he picked her in front of her apartment. However, Sora was always willing to take the precaution, even though that also meant she had to hold the umbrella for their whole walking date.

The forecast was right: it did rain some time later.

When Taichi got the first few drops on the tip of his nose, Sora couldn’t help but laugh triumphantly—a replacement for the ‘I told you so’ she wanted to say so bad. She proceeded to open her umbrella, somewhat relieved that she picked the old, big umbrella instead of the small, folded one because it wouldn’t be able to cover them both. Taichi had the figure of a typical jock, after all.

“This is not something I had imagined for a romantic autumn stroll,” Taichi complained grumpily, scooting Sora closer to him so both of them wouldn’t get splashed.

“Well, on the contrary, I think there’s something about the rain that gives a bit of romantic vibe,” Sora argued.

“Geez. Please tell me you’re not that kind of girl who’s dreaming of a kiss under the rain like Spider-Man and Mary Jane.”

“I know you act like a monkey sometimes, but I can’t imagine you’re willing to turn yourself upside down just for a kiss,” Sora giggled. “Also, doing such thing when you’re soaking wet seems… weird.”

Taichi then pursed his lips, taking a moment of silence to think. “The only romantic thing I can associate with the rain is aiai-gasa—which is kinda funny considering our situation right now.” He glanced momentarily at the umbrella above before looking back at her with a smirk. “I bet you did one with our names together in the back of your notebook when we were still in school, right?”

Wanting to wipe that cocky smile from his face, Sora pushed Taichi far enough to get his right shoe drenched. “I did not!”

It was true; she really didn’t.

(She made one in the middle of the book instead so that it would go unnoticed among her notes.)

.

.

iii.

On the spur of the moment, the downpour turned way too heavy for her umbrella to take. They had no choice but to step aside and take shelter under a canopy right in front of a currently closed shop. Taichi pulled out the jacket he was wearing; its right sleeve was soaked, so he wrung it out before wrapping the jacket to his waist.

“I still don’t know why you love thunderstorms,” he then said with his arms folded, brows furrowed towards the dark grey clouds as if he was outdaring the sky. “There is nothing lovely about this kind of weather.”

A loud thunder roared back at his impolite remark.

“I guess you misunderstood me,” Sora said, folding her half-dried umbrella back. “I said I love thunderstorms, but I didn’t mean the chaotic kind of them.” She once got her laundry swept away during a gale, although it was part of her mistake since she forgot to take them inside.

“There’s a word for it, you know?” she continued. “Chrysalism. It means the tranquillity and peace that you feel when you’re indoors during a thunderstorm.”

“Okay, that is not a penchant to the thunderstorm,” Taichi protested. “You just love to have an excuse to stay inside your room and curl up in your blanket.”

“Hey, what can I say? I’m a homebody at the end of the day.”

“That’s why I want to ask you out today. You need to absorb some of the colours from the fallen leaves. Don’t you realise your skin is getting pale for being glued to your work desk way too long?” Taichi huffed. “What are you—a vampire?”

“Then thank God the sky was dark today, right? Or else my skin is going to turn diamond-like and we’ll make a headline tomorrow.” It was her turn to make a reference out of a movie, and Taichi rolled his eyes because she had to go with Twilight of all movies she could choose. Sora then brought herself closer to Taichi, circling her arms around him for a cuddle.

“There’s always a next time,” she tried to cheer him up. “We still have a month before winter. I promise you we’ll go out whether it’s hail, rain, or sunshine. But please, please bring your own umbrella. Better safe than sorry, no?”

Taichi sighed in defeat. For the second time today, Sora gave him a jubilant smile. As a consolation prize, she decided to hover for a kiss—a far more practical way rather than doing it upside down, in addition without being able to see the face of the person you were kissing. She then rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that rhymes with the pitter-patter of the rain.

“You’re as warm as my blanket,” Sora closed her eyes sedately.

Taichi stroked her head with a tiny smile on his lips. “I told you I bring sunshine wherever I go.”

.

.

iv.

As the thunder became faint and the rain got a bit gentle, Sora released herself from his warmth. “Shall we just go to my apartment before we’re straying too far?”

“I don’t think we can hang out so casually with your parents around—”

“Who said my parents are home?”

Taichi was lost for words at once. Sora’s smile finally turned into a smirk that was contagious enough to make him follow suit.

[luzarya]

The Broken Sketchbook Reveals Yuu's (Not-so Biggest) Secret

Twst x Yuu

[Where Yuu is (accidentally) a crossdresser and likes to draw wlw things. ]

Summary: Grim is curious as to what were the contents of Yuu's sketchbook, employing Ace's and Deuce's help. The contents reveal a secret that Yuu wasn't even trying to hide.

[or, Yuu is in a glass closet.]

ao3 link: here

warnings: none

word count: 1,574

----

Grim pawed at the sketchbook at him. It was a rather ordinary sketchbook, plain black with a plastic covering. Yet, for being so ordinary, the sketchbook had a single lock on it. It was clear that it was makeshift, straps sturdily glued on, the lock being small and requiring a numeral passkey to unlock it.

Grim had thought about using his flames to melt the glue, but decided against it- he knew how much Yuu was particular about their sketchbooks.

Grim looked around the Ramshackle dorm- it was after school hours, and Yuu was working a shift at the lounge. As usual, he had seen Yuu carry a sketchbook, one with a similar makeshift straps and a lock, although it had a sticker of a bunny on it. The sketchbook he held in his paws had no distinction, save for letters that spelt out words in a foreign language. What the words meant, he didn’t know.

But it was a curious item, one that practically begged to be open and exposed for all the world to see.

“Oh!”

Coming up with an idea, Grim grabbed the item with his mouth, running off outside.

0

“Eh? I don’t know how to take this off.”

“You didn’t even try!”

Grim pouted, the flames in his ears shifting a bit too unpredictable for Deuce’s tastes.

“It’s just a sketchbook, and it’s obvious that Yuu doesn’t want us looking through their things.” Deuce replied, flipping the book around. He took a look at the words written in bright silver, raising a brow.

“Is this… a foreign language?”

Grim shrugged, “Heck if I know… oh wait,” he paused, “I think I’ve heard Yuu say things that I didn’t understand.”

“Like what?”

“Never paid attention.”

Deuce only sighed, and gave back the sketchbook to Grim. “Well, either way, you should really return this,” he glanced to the side, “I’ll go back to playing basketball. Later, Grim.”

Deuce ran off, the sound of squeaking sneakers being the last thing Grim heard.

“Oh, Yuu’s sketchbook?”

“Yep!”

Ace picked up the book, giving it a curious glance over. “Huh.”

“Can ya open it?”

“Maybe. I might need a knife though.”

“Where would I get a knife?”

“The kitchen? Track is almost over, and Yuu doesn’t come back until late night right? We can just use one of your knives.”

“But it’ll be obvious!”

Ace sighed, “Do you want to know what Yuu draws or not?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then I’ll meet you back at Ramshackle!”

Grim had a bad feeling about this. The last time he tried to open up one of Yuu’s sketchbooks, he was met with a rather angry Yuu, who, calmly (yet frighteningly) spoke to him.

Grim quietly hoped that all would go well.

“Here ya go.”

Grim gave Ace the knife- it was a butter knife, but it would do the job just fine. Ace thanked the creature, and began to break the glue. He went in and up and down motion, the knife grinding against the mold of glue. It took a while, but he was making progress.

After a minute of doing so, the glue relented and gave away. No loner was the strap glued down, the sketchbook now open to be viewed.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Deuce quietly said. It was an invasion of privacy, but he too, was curious as to the contents of the sketchbook. Why did Yuu put a lock on it?

The first page had Yuu’s number and the location the book should be brought to- something of which was inscribed on the back of the book. Odd. Ace flipped the page- blank. Another page. Blank.

“What the heck…?”

He flipped to the next two pages, and finally, there was something.

It was a naked woman.

“Eh?!” Deuce stared at the drawing, his cheeks reddening.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the drawing, just a woman tying up her hair, sitting, a hairband in their mouth. The woman was glancing downwards, her arms up and hands hiding in hair. It was a rather simple drawing, although it was obvious that there was more work done on the hair and arms than the woman’s face or their body.

Why Yuu had drawn this, they didn’t know.

Ace flipped to the next page, and this time it was of two women kissing each other lovingly. Unlike the last drawing, these women adorned what looked like traditional dress (from where, no one knew), one of the women holding a bouquet of violets.

“Well, this is most certainly something.” Ace didn’t know what to make of the drawings. Deuce’s face was still red, and likely will remain red for the next few minutes.

Ace flipped to the next page, took a good look for one second, then closed the sketchbook. It was… rather explicit to say the least.

“I see why Yuu had it locked it…”

“Told you guys it was a bad idea…”

Ace slightly opened up the book, going to a random page, fully opening it once he knew it was appropriate.

It was a rather detailed drawing, more so than the last. It looked like a self portrait, although heavily stylized in a cartoony way, as instead of what one would consider what would be a normal skin tone- it was a pastel blue. The lashes were large, the wings too big to be humane. Their outfit was something they had never seen before, in an unknown aesthetic from old times, in a neon blue, but darker. In fact, the entire drawing was in blue, with multiple shades of blue in every way possible- metallic, textured and partnered, dull and tainted.

“Well, this is certainly different from the others.” Ace couldn’t quite believe that this was drawn by the same person, although he did identify some trademark traits- Yuu often drew the noses with a triangle if it was stylized, more realistic if… well, realistic.

“What in the world is y’all doing?”

Everyone turned around to see Yuu standing right behind them. They could see one of their eyes gleaming, the three sensing danger from Yuu.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Deuce squeaked out- this was the first time he ever felt fear towards the Ramshackle prefect.

“Is that so?” Yuu drawled out, eyeing the sketchbook in Ace’s hand, “pray tell, then why is my usually locked sketchbook open?”

“The lock broke!” Ace lied, his voice high.

“Really?” Yuu glanced at the knife, then back to Ace, “Then why do you have a butter knife?”

“We broke it! I wanted to see what was inside!” Grim yelled, giving his best attempt at a bow. Yuu’s facial expression softened, but as soon as it did, it returned to its original expression.

“Is that so?” Their voice was quiet, picking up their sketchbook. They let out a small sigh, yet their demeanor didn’t change- Ace and Deuce could still taste the tension in the air.

“Sorry...” Deuce apologized, although it came out weak.

“If you were curious, you could’ve asked,” Yuu looked at the damage, “I had more appropriate drawings elsewhere. I keep them locked for an obvious reason, you idiots.”

They took their sketchbook, and the broken lock, away. Their items were neatly laid on the table, including their other sketchbook that they had taken to work.

“Maybe we can ask Yuu about that one then?” Grim suggested.

“Sure.”

Deuce nearly jumped at the voice, not having expected Yuu to be so quick in returning. Ace noticed this, and laughed.

“Pfft, you should see your face, dude.”

“Oh, shut up! As if you weren’t scared earlier!”

“I wasn’t the only one!”

“Enough,” Yuu walked over, their voice effectively stopping the two from yelling at one another. The teenagers huffed, but they remained silent.

Yuu picked up their work sketchbook, inputting the numbers to unlock it. Now open, it revealed a number of doodles, some detailed, some rather simple. Notes were written, reminders for the future, and numbers to remember.

“So….” Ace spoke up, “What’s the deal with the naked ladies?

“...”

“Yuu?”

“I’m… a lesbian…”

“Wait what-”

“You’re a girl?!” Deuce looked at Yuu with wide eyes.

“Yes? I thought it was obvious?” Yuu returned the same look at Deuce.

“It wasn’t obvious! You never said anything!”

“I never thought I had too???”

“Y’know, this explains why Deuce never acted nervous before,” Ace quietly commented to Grim, watching the scene unfold.

Grim nodded, “I thought it was pretty obvious that Yuu was a girl.”

“I need.. To process this information…” Deuce got up, and walked out of Ramshackle Dorm, leaving a very puzzled Yuu and a calm Ace and Grim. Yuu let out another heavy sigh.

The tension was thick and heavy. In an attempt to lift the air, Ace spoke up.

“So. Girls?”

Ace looked at Yuu’s facial expression. Their puzzled expression melted to a softer one, one with a smile, replying,  “Girls.”

Ace raises his hand, making a sort of fist. Yuu raised a brow, but raised a fist of her own. Ace smiled, Grim watching as Ace fist-bumped Yuu.

“Girls.”

…

…

...

...

Meanwhile, outside, Deuce was walking in a circle, wrapping his head around the thought that Yuu was a girl.

“Why am I so stupid?!” He cursed at himself.

“Eh, you didn’t know?”

Deuce turned his head, his eyes locking with those of Jack’s confused eyes. It took him a moment to process Jack’s words.

“You too?!”

[toomuchdickfort]

I meant to do a simple doodle for a new discord icon, and then i drew a tree and got carried away

The second has the guide lines on still bc i think it looks cool that way too

[shesclearlya3]

Class Fight (p.1)

pairing: teen!dandy mott x teen!reader

word count: 3,303

warnings: language, jealous dandy, slightly au!dandy, all characters are 18

part 2 part 3

1.

It was the first semester of your Senior year. The first month of school had flown by, and the Fall dance was just a few weeks away. Your small group of girlfriends was anxiously awaiting for their crushes to ask them.

You weren’t particularly concerned with this. The dance fell on the one Saturday of the month where you had to accompany your mother to some stupid Tupperware party. It was the newest trend in American dining, and your mother needed you as her plus one. It wouldn’t hurt to miss one dance… right?

Your best friends Winter and Zoe were excited, but they were devastated you couldn’t come. You always went with them as a trio.

“Are you sure you couldn’t cancel?” Winter asked while you washed your hands in the bathroom sink. The school day was over, and you planned on accompanying her to the diner for greasy food and to catch up on homework.

“I already promised her weeks ago,” you said, drying your hands. “There’s still prom?”

Winter nodded in understanding, and you both knew it was the end of that discussion. Zoe came out of the stall, her face flushed and hair tied back. She looked clammy.

“You alright in there?” Winter asked her as Zoe took a disposable cup and drank some water.

“Kyle asked me to the dance!” Zoe replied breathlessly. You and Winter both congratulated her, and Winter asked why she looked so sick.

“I just got overwhelmed, you know? He came up and asked me right as I put my books away. I didn’t think he was going too, he never brought it up before-.”

You followed them out as Zoe recanted the story of how Kyle asked her. The halls were mostly cleared now as kids scrambled to leave as soon as possible.

“You’re riding with us, right?” Zoe then asked you, raising a neat eyebrow at you.

“Yes, Dandy probably left already.”

The girls both smirked to themselves, but you ignored it. You were used to it by now.

The thing was, Dandy Mott was the best looking guy in school, in your opinion. You had never attended a public school in your life, but you knew those boys could never compare. Dandy was from the wealthiest family in your private district, and with his looks, girls were all over him.

However, he was quite the character. 

Dandy didn’t necessarily associate with a particular group of kids. He was reticent and didn’t bother with any clubs, but he was quite attuned to the drama program. He was also known for his temper if things didn’t go his way, but age matured him, mostly. You were one of the few people who he actually gave a damn about in life. You attributed that to knowing him before school. Your grandfather was a business partner with the Mott family, where your family name found their wealth, and how you two were friends.

You weren’t bothered by the unwanted attention you got from girls attempting to weasel their way into your circle for the chance to talk to Dandy. Most of them gave up quickly, and that was that. Plus, you had Winter and Zoe as your protectors. They weren’t afraid to kick a bitch in the vagina if they overstepped the clear boundaries you had set for yourself. Dandy trusted you, and you weren’t about to fuck that up.

Plus, his mother, Gloria, was continually trying to set him up with girls in other parts of town. 

You climbed into Zoe’s new car, buckling your seatbelt and glancing across the almost deserted parking lot. You spotted him instantly, sitting in his car and staring right back. You slowly raised your hand, giving him a wave. Dandy slowly reciprocated the action, and you swore you saw him smile.

You spent the evening with the girls, eating dinner and trying to explain the symbolism in the required reading in English. The football team had finished their practice and were crowding what few booths and tables were left. You tried to block out their raucous laughter, loudly asking Zoe to read your theory to see if it were plausible. 

Winter had noticed the Quarterback, Jason, occasionally staring at you as he chewed his burger. Your back was to him, so you had no idea. She didn’t say anything, instead watching him from the corner of her eye, figuring he wouldn’t approach your table. 

“I just think it only makes sense to me,” you told Zoe, scratching your head. “I can’t concentrate with the boys screaming for no reason.”

“I think it makes perfect sense. You did misspell authority, though…”

You laughed to yourself, glancing around the diner as Zoe fixed your spelling. You were so distracted, you misspelled simple words. 

“We should get ready and go, it’s getting stuffy in here…” Winter commented, closing her English book. 

“Just a moment!” Zoe said excitedly, scribbling down in her own notebook now.

You had started gathering your things when both Zoe and Madison looked behind you, looking a mix of concern and amusement. You glanced behind you to see Jason Dean, smiling down at you. His dark hair covered his eyes, and he pushed it back.

You had no idea what to say. The last conversation you had with Jason was probably in fifth grade when he commented that women were weak while helping you carry boxes of school supplies, and you accidentally dropped a massive box of markers on his foot. He cried for an hour. 

“y/n,” he addressed you. You glanced at your friends who were eagerly watching you with their faces hidden behind their textbooks. Winter’s was upside down.

“Hi, Jason,” you responded, hearing the confusion in your voice. You listened to his friends giggling behind you, and you wondered if this was a joke. 

“I haven’t seen you in a minute,” he said cheekily, and you nodded. “You look good.”

You quickly looked him up and down. Jason was muscular but not bulky, and he was definitely a whole foot taller than you. He grew into his facial features, and he was a handsome guy. You assumed he was just talking to you on a dare, so you finished putting your things in your bag. Zoe and Winter didn’t budge, still pretending to read their books.

Jason realized you were dumbfounded at his statement. He quickly backtracked, “I just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

You bid him farewell, turning to your friends who were having a hard time concealing their laughter. You heard Jason’s best friend, Matthew, call him an idiot and what sounded like a smack on the back.

“y/n, you have a boyfriend?” Zoe asked, smirking at you.

You glared, standing up as they shouldered their bags and grabbed their books. “You know perfectly well I don’t speak to him.”

“I bet he wants to ask you to the dance.” Winter grinned at Zoe, who nodded in agreement as you stepped into the cold autumn air. 

“I’m not going either way.” you mumbled, and the girls dropped it until the next morning. 

2.

You didn’t think it was that big of a deal that the Quarterback tried to talk to you at the diner a few nights before. All the students who were present spread gossip like wildfire. You ignored it. You knew they were just children speculating what it could mean when it probably meant nothing. 

Zoe and Winter never brought it up again, and you were relieved that your friends didn’t dwell on it for too long. You loved that about them. 

It was after lunchtime when you sat in your History course, going over the notes for the test. You heard Jason and a few of his friends pile in, laughing and making comments under their breath. They took their designated seats in the back, and you felt eyes on the back of your head. 

A group of popular girls across the room started to giggle, and you glanced up to see Dandy walk in, his nose up and sauntering to the seat directly behind you. You wondered why he didn’t acknowledge you, but you didn’t dwell on it long. Dandy was often absent from any social interaction. 

Your teacher began the class the moment the bell rang. She decided to go over the notes an extra day and postponed the test. You were mildly disappointed but knew the material well, so you decided to doodle in your journal. One of the girls in the front occasionally popped her gum. 

Ms. Strode was talking about World War II when you felt something hit your elbow. You glanced over and saw a balled-up piece of paper. You glanced around to see most people were either frantically jotting down notes or not paying any attention. You picked it up, assuming it just needed to be passed ahead.

However, you read your name in neat cursive and opened it under the table.

Would you go to the dance with me? - Jason

You read the short invitation a good ten or so times before you could comprehend what he was asking. While the teacher wasn’t looking, you peeked over your shoulder to see him staring at you. His buddies were hiding their own smiles, but you didn’t see any malice behind it. Was he serious?

Of course, you’d have to decline. You already have an engagement. You promised your mother. You already declined the evening with your two best friends.

You didn’t send a note back, knowing it would be too distracting trying to pass it. Dandy would never try to give a stupid message.

However, Dandy had been paying attention and had managed to read the note over your shoulder when you laid it on your pencil case. He became green with envy, closing the book he hadn’t been paying attention too in the first place.

You hardly spoke a word to him this year. He wondered why that was. Dandy was very particular who he said too, and gave any sliver of his precious time. You were a comfort to him and probably didn’t realize that. Dandy knew he couldn’t seem desperate for your affection, or at the very least, your attention. He had hoped you’d be waiting for him in his car after school like the previous years before. Did he do something to upset you? Were you too good for him?

Dandy spent the rest of the class staring at the back of your head. He knew that wasn’t the case. Perhaps it was his behavior that steered you away. Of course, he liked being friends with you, but maybe it wasn’t enough. He was a loner who enjoyed his alone time. Dandy heard what people said about him. The general consensus was that he was doing everything right. 

When the class was dismissed, he hung back, watching as you quickly gathered your things and paced out the door. 

“Tough blow, man!” he heard Matthew say.

“She’ll come around.” Jason replied, his tone snarky. Dandy watched as they walked out of the room, his brows furrowing as he debated on taking the high road and asking you to the stupid dance himself. He wouldn’t go willingly. His mother, Gloria, needed him to be involved as much as possible. To keep up appearances, of course. Not for Dandy’s own goodwill. 

Dandy trailed out of the class, seeing you across the hall at your locker. Winter was beside you, somehow talking and applying lipstick at the same time. He stood off to the side, not minding all the bodies bumping into him and temporarily panicking that he’d yell at them.

This is it, Dandy thought. It’s a war, whether Jason Dean knew that or not. 

3.

Jason approached you the following day and asked if you’d mind talking to him at lunch. You hesitantly agreed, catching Zoe’s eye as she hugged Kyle before going into her class. She smiled at you, and you gave her a hesitant one in return. 

He definitely matured through the years. Jason was interested in you, and you felt comfortable talking to him through the entire lunch period, even catching yourself laughing at his sense of humor. Dandy played with the apple in his hands, glaring daggers at the back of Jason’s messy head. Winter noticed from her spot at your usual table and nudged Zoe, gesturing for her to look. 

“He looks pissed.” Zoe giggled, and Winter nodded in agreement. 

“I think Mott is going to kill him!” Winter said, stabbing at her steamed broccoli.

“Shouldn’t we let y/n know?” Zoe asked.

“I think she’s about to figure it out.” Winter said as Dandy stood up, heading directly to the table where you were sitting with Jason. Zoe and Winter fell into a hush, shoving food into their mouth and intently watching what was about to unfold. 

Jason saw him approaching first and paused, sizing the other guy up and down. Jason was bigger than Dandy in height and muscle tone from being an athlete, but Dandy wasn’t lanky either. You turned around, shocked to find Dandy staring down at you. 

“y/n,” Dandy nodded at you, ignoring Jason.

“Dandy, hi!” you said, genuinely happy to see him. “How are you?”

“I’m decent.” he said, smiling a little. “Could I have a word?” 

You glanced at Jason, who seemed timid, but he nodded. You stood up, promising Jason you’d be back as you followed Dandy out to the hallway. Multiple eyes followed you, and you heard the whispers starting as the door swung shut. 

“How are you?” Dandy asked now, looking down at you. His dark hair was neatly gelled and had a slight curl. 

“I’ve been good. I haven’t heard from you in a while…” you said.

Dandy nodded, “I could say the same. I assumed you’d come back around soon enough.”

You felt he was hurt by your absence. Dandy looked bothered, and you felt terrible. However, he was capable of approaching you as well. Which is what he thought he had to do. 

“Is everything okay?” you questioned, hoping his mother was doing well. You hadn’t seen her all Summer. 

“y/n, you know you’re one of the only people I care about in this stupid town,” Dandy said, glancing towards a teacher walking to the lounge. He gave you guys a questioning look but didn’t comment, disappearing into the next room. 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so Dandy continued, “Which is why I think you shouldn’t go to the formal with Jason.”

You frowned, “How do you know he asked me?”

“The whole school knows!” Dandy retorted, and you remembered. “I think it’s a bad idea.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not going either way.”

Dandy looked surprised, and you saw the relief in his eyes. He laughed a little, his fingers drumming against his leg. “Oh.”

“What, are you jealous?” you asked, laughing at him. Dandy tried to hide his laughter, but it didn’t work. The quiet hallway was filled with your giggles.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” Dandy said, and you were saddened to hear the bell ring. Dandy straightened up, the smile leaving his face as kids filed out of the cafeteria and the surrounding classrooms. Kids stared at you and whispered, many laughing and wondering if you were now a couple. 

Jason slowly walked in your direction, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to Dandy. You were ashamed that you had avoided him for so long. You missed him. Dandy glanced behind you, his eyes sharpening as your new suitor waited patiently, his hands in his beige jacket. 

“Be careful around him.” Dandy whispered to you before he disappeared down the hall.

You approached Jason, who gave you a soft smile, “Am I missing something? Are you two together?”

You shook your head, a light smile on your lips, “No. We’re just friends.”

“Oh…” Jason nodded, “Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I freaked you out the other day. We don’t have to go to the dance together, but-.”

“Oh!” you gasped. Jason frowned, giving you a quizzical look. “The dance… I forgot,” you lied. “Uhm, I’m actually not going. I have other plans…” you said.

Jason looked defeated but took the rejection gracefully. You promised you’d sit with him again tomorrow, and he visibly cheered up at that. You ended up having to sprint to your locker for your books after saying goodbye, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Dandy’s warning. 

“Be careful around him.”

The Friday before the dance went to complete shit.

That morning you ate your breakfast slowly, listening to your parents argue in the kitchen over a business deal your mother thought was a bad idea. Your father was greedy and looked towards the top dollar than what was best for the business and the family. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, Winter fell sick and couldn’t go to school. You had to wait for your father to finish getting ready before he could drive you. You were ten minutes late and got a verbal warning; you never got in trouble at school. You had three tests in a row, and by lunch, you were about to rip your hair out.

Jason was nowhere to be found, so you sat with Zoe. She was worried that Winter would miss the dance but was happy that she’d at least have Kyle if Winter canceled. Kyle came and sat with you guys, his shaggy blond hair wet from the downpour outside. 

You were anxiously looking around the cafeteria for any sign of Dandy. He had missed a few days of school, citing a fever when you called his house and spoke to his maid, Dora. You wished him well and knew he’d pull through fast. Plus, you saw his car this morning when you got dropped off. 

“They’re going to cancel the dance if more kids fall ill,” Kyle said as he ate a burger. Zoe glared at him, telling him to look on the bright side of things. 

“What? I am!” Kyle replied, smirking at his new girlfriend.

“I’m sure they won’t cancel.” you placated Zoe, who beamed at you. “All the parents who gave money will be pissed.”

You ate most of your lunch when the principal walked in. The room immediately quieted as he observed the tables before landing on you. He walked to you briskly, and you felt your heart racing as he approached. 

Am I getting detention? I’ve only been late once!

“Ms. y/l/n, could you come with me?” he asked politely, smiling at you, Zoe, and Kyle.

You nodded slowly, bunching up your trash and placing it on the tray. Zoe told you to leave it, and they’d take care of it. You quietly thanked her and followed Principal Harmon out, struggling to keep pace with his long, thin legs.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you asked. Now wondering if your parents died in some fiery crash or if you failed a class. 

“There’s been a disturbance outside this afternoon,” Harmon replied, his voice grim. “With Mr. Mott and Mr. Dean.”

You were shocked to hear this. You were silent during the rest of the trek to his office. When he opened the door, you saw both boys sitting in chairs. They both had packs of ice on their faces and sheepish expressions.

“What were you thinking?” you hissed to them as Mr. Harmon gestured for you to take the empty seat next to Dandy.

“Well, now that y/n is here, I think you both owe her an explanation and an apology.” 

Jason and Dandy shared a look. Dandy now looked pissed, and you could only imagine what lead to this. 

Oh, I have a pretty good fucking idea.

[treasure-hwa]

skate park

pairing: yeosang x neutral reader

genre: fluff, angst if you squint

synopsis: while trying to remember you are worthy good things, you meet a boy who will make everything feels better.

word count: 1.220

author's note: in general, Yeosang skater boy, because everybody deserves it. To the lovely @ateezstanlove, who said she was going away while I was in the middle of this imagine, then, came back few weeks later. Girl, don't do that to me again, thanks. Anyway, hope you all like this.

Another stressful day of dealing with fake friends, mean people and bad thoughts. Your energy was low, not the lowest, because you definitely had worse days, but low enough to make you stompe out of school and go straight to the skate park a few blocks away. Did you skate? No, you never even tried, but the skate park was a place that helped you relax, the sunset and breeze at the end of the day were irresistible and seemed to wash your worries and anger away.

Most of the times you went there, it was empty, only the sounds of kids playing on the playground beside it could be heard and they did not annoy you. This time, though, a boy was there. The boy carried a red backpack on his back and was agile on top of his skateboard, not vacillating once. You sat on one of the ramp curves and tried to ignore him, focusing on you, but the sounds of the skate wheels were quite comforting actually.

The sun, that was slowly beginning to set, sun hit your face, warming it, and the breeze made your clothes shuffle while you swung your feet. You started thinking about your day, going back to the mean things you heard and trying to reassure yourself about each of them. “Your problems are nothing like mine”, they are not similar, but both are valid; “Stop being an attention seeker”, you are not, you just wanted a simple “hello, how are you?”, to be included; “You can’t even do this right, how...”, it is okay if you are not good at something, that does not mean you are a failure; “Don’t you think you bothered them enough?”, if you bother those people, you are not meant to be together. Your mind was slowly healing, your soul going back to normal and...

— Hi.

A deep voice broke your moment of peace, scaring you, who would have fallen off the ramp if it was not for the boy’s arm in front of you, preventing your pathetic fall.

— I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you like that.

Turning to him, you took in his appearance. A light pink beanie hiding most of his brown hair, a small black earring on his ear, black sweater, earphones hanging on his neck and black jeans that hugged his thighs perfectly. The boy looked like a total skater one and was incredibly good looking, you went far thinking that he could probably be the most handsome boy you have ever met.

— It's okay. — You coughed, pretending you were not checking him out. — I'm easily scared. But hi.

The boy rubbed his nape with his free hand, giggling and thinking of a way to keep talking to you. He did not know why he walked up to your sitting place, but you looked cute enjoying your surroundings and swinging your legs like a little kid, you were not even paying attention to him, so he could not help himself, he needed to stop his skating and talk to you.

— I'm Yeosang. You? — When you told him your name, he repeated it quietly, as if making sure he would remember.

— You skate well — you complimented.

— Oh? Did you see that? Thank you.

You nodded a bit awkwardly. Understand, you were never the type to talk to pretty boys, let alone a strange one, so Yeosang coming to your side and starting conversation made you flustered.

— Do you skate? — He picked up his skateboard full of drawings.

— No, never tried. By the way, your skateboard is so colorful, it's cool.

— Yeah, I agree. My friend likes to decorate things and said once my plain white skateboard was boring, so he asked me if he could draw on it. I let him and the result was pretty amazing.

The object was black, but had all the important Adventure Time characters drawn on it.

— Is it your favorite cartoon?

— Yeah, I only asked him to draw something that matched me, so he did this. I really liked the result.

— Ahh, got it. It's beautiful. A friend of mine likes to decorate things too, so she did this on my backpack. — You showed him the straps of your backpack decorated with positive words, flowers and doodles of your favorite activities.

He gasped seeing them, then suggested introducing your friends, because they would for sure get along so well. You agreed on that, even if you both barely knew each other to be introducing friends and probably would not do that.

Yeosang was about to speak again, but a stronger breeze hit you both before he could, so you stood there, appreciating nature all around you. When it was possible to talk again, you both spoke at the same time:

— Do you wanna try skating?

— What were you listening to?

He giggled along you, heads turned to the side and a slight blush coming up to both faces. The boy told you to answer first.

— Maybe not today, okay? I really don’t want to fall.

Yeosang said there was no problem, already anxious to see you again, but masking it by talking about the songs he was previously listening to. That way, you spent several minutes talking as if you knew each other for months, not merely for an hour. The boy was quite pleasant to have around, his smile was cute and a bit contained, as was his laugh, but you felt so close and good with him already. You felt so secure that you decided to confide in him the reason you were there when he asked what you were doing on a skate ramp if you did not like to skate.

— This is… my safe place.

— Safe from what? If you don’t mind me asking, obviously.

— No, it’s okay. Here is safe from cruel people trying to bring me down, safe from thoughts that drive me insane; the nature around here calms me, it seems to understand my worries and heal my heart.

— That’s quite beautiful, you know? — You chuckled, shaking your head. — I’m being honest. I think it’s cool you come here and enjoy your surroundings while remembering yourself you’re worthy tranquility and peace. I barely know you, but I think you are worthy.

— How do you know that? I could be the meanest person in the world trying to gain your attention by creating another personality to myself.

— Are you?

— Well, no, but…

— Then that’s it. I trust you.

Chuckling again and looking down, you glanced at your watch, noticing it was too late, time to be home. The sun had set and the lamp posts around were on, however neither of you paid attention to it earlier.

— Yeosang, it was great to meet you, but I need to go now.

— Ah. Okay, no problem, but, maybe, we could… you know. — The boy scratched his nape, embarrassed to ask for your number out loud, so he stretched his phone for you and looked away. Fortunately for him, you giggled and took the phone from his hands, adding your contact and saying “send me a hi later, skater boy” before leaving him with a teeny weeny piece of your heart behind.