[yuzen]

;0; so cute!!!!

[ultimate writer.]

h eck
Res

[hxneystorm]

holy sugar snap peas- he's gorgeous !!
mark !!

honeystorm.wishes

[bluewingz]

Res

Its.. Its too bootiful

[sentimental]

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click for full form
♡

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ omake ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Why do you want to learn languages?"

Bokuto glanced up from his lunch of tamagoyaki and rice to stare quizzically at his friend.
"What do you mean?" he lazily signed with one hand.
"Well, you don't... ah, how should I say this without sounding like a jackass.." his pal scrached the back of his head,
"You don't .. speak much, is what I mean. How could languages benefit you?"
After a few seconds of a blank stare, Bokuto began to laugh softy and hysterically.
He whipped out his phone and began to type frantically whilst still holding back giggles.
"Kjell, what am I doing right now?" His friend stared at the phone's screen for a few moments.
"Uhhh.. conversing with me?" Bokuto snagged the phone back and typed a few more hurried sentences.
"Yes and no, silly. I'm also communicating with you! I don't need to talk to make use of languages.
We're growing up in a digital world, which connects and divides us immensely. My insecurities about my voice
really affect little now. I want to be able to break down those metaphorical barriers we've built up.
I want to communicate with people, to truly relate to and understand them. And I can't do that with just one language under my belt."
As he finished reading the note before him, Kjell shook his head fondly and looked at Bokuto,
who had tilted his head slightly and was smiling the widest he possibly could.

"You're ridiculously cute for a nerd."

"HEY!"

Kjell slung an arm over Bokuto's shoulders and began to ruffle his hair furiously.
"Now, put that sappy stuff aside and gimme a bite!"
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[275/300]

[Blumoonwolf]

name;; pascal
gender;; demiboy

"oh!"
with a startled cry he falls backwards, hitting the ground at an awkward angle and sending a shoot of pain through his arm. his bag and its contents are spilt everywhere, including the busy street. pascal sits there in a moment of shock, seeing his pencils and brushes roll towards their fate of being snapped under a car tire. old unchewed strips of gum and crumpled tissues are crushed under the feet of those passing by unaware.

"are you okay?" the voice is alarmed, and an apologetic hand helps him up.
"yeah." he answers, though he is shaken and now scrambling to return everything to his bag. Art supplies, paper, phone (now cracked,) and-
"are those.. stolen shoes?" the bystander that had bumped into him was looking over his shoulder, eyebrows knotted in confusion. the previously mentioned goods are swept out of sight by pascals hand. "no."
"and movies? why do you have plant leav-"
"I didn't sign up to be scrutinized." pascal snaps, annoyed at the stranger. it wasnt enough to merely scatter his things across the ground, now he had to judge everything too. what kind of kalon did that? "for your information," pascal continues, snatching what remained of his pencils and brushes from the road, "I had only borrowed them to give to charity. the tags were left on in a show of good faith. the movies were for a friend and the plants... are just plants. for what one keeps plants for." he stood up, and brushed himself off. "you know, planting. and all that."

the stranger only eyes him in response. they stand for a moment of heavy silence before speaking up.
"I am sorry about bumping into you. I was on my way to work- I work the tables at Shelly's, yknow, if you ever wanted to stop by for a bite. on me. and you can go through my things so we're even."
"because thats a fun thing kalons do to get to know one another?" even though his words were sarcastic, pascal smiled. perhaps this wasn't such an unfortunate encounter. after all, it wasn't everyday you were offered a free meal. "deal."

[Fuscontidox]

“Good morning darling.” His mother cooed as he appeared from the hallway. His feet were dragging, rubbing his eyes as if the sleepiness could be wiped away. He proceeded to mumble her a good morning and sat down to the fresh plate of breakfast.

“I have to be at the office early today, so I need you to walk to school, and possibly home. I will give you a call to verify that.” He ate without looking up, a pause fell between them. “Are you sure you’ll be alright walking to school?”

Noah paused, food half way to his mouth as he looked up to his mother. He closed his mouth and looked back and forth over the room with his eyes, before landing back on her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

His mother opened her mouth, only to close it again with a smile, “Right, old habits.” She turned away, towards the sink, rinsing out the pan and utensils from the morning. “Don’t forget about practice today, Mrs. Clemminta tells me you forgot to bring your violin again.”

He paused his eating again, and felt himself sink into his chair, his ears twitching back as he fiddled with his food. “Sorry, mom, I keep forgetting to put my violin in the case when I leave the house. It’s just... a little odd to suddenly take lessons outside the house, you know?” He took another small morsel in his mouth, and looked at her sheepishly.

She looked back with a hand relaxed on her hip, a half amused smile over her lips, but the smile still did not quite meet her eyes, worry creased her forehead, and he knew what she was thinking of. “Oh Noah,” she breathed, “what am I going to do with you?”

Soon it was time for her to take her leave, and Noah sat alone in the house, kicking his feet under the table as he ate. He hopped off the chair when his plate was empty, and placed the dishes in the sink.

Checking the clock, he made his way to his room to take up his things for school. He looked at the small latch stand across his room where his dark-wood violin sat. The bow hung next to it, and his eyes trailed to the case, perched on the piano stool near his bed. Before leaving, he took it up, slinging it over his shoulder and walking out, with his violin still on the stand, like he always left it.

The trail to school had him swiveling his ears all over the place, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end the whole way. Despite the road being a peaceful walk through nature to anyone else, walking to and from school was a horror movie come to life in Noah’s eyes. He watched branches flood with birds of all kinds. His stomach churned as he made eye contact with the watching ravens; big mistake. Feathers fluttered, wings flapping, caws of the birds above alerted his presence to all the woodland creatures. Squirrels and chipmunks, and even a few deer crept their way out to look, and watch the poor thing pail.

They pranced closer, playfully trying to get near the boy, but the act only caused him to break into a nervous sweat that rolled down his face and neck. As they grew closer, he picked up his pace, and so did they. Shortly there after, he found himself in a burning run opening the violin case. He tore through bags of seeds, apple slices, nuts, and bread crumbs to entice the docile beings, holding back the dog treats and cat cookies that nearly rolled out. Anything to get them to stop following him. This time, he had held in his panicky hollers, but the tears in turn gathered at the corners of his eyes. They bubbled until he was hidden in a crevice away from the main road, crouching with his head in his knees. He sniffled endlessly and tried to even his breathing, an attempt to calm the anxiety that had risen. Just like every other time he took this route.

Zoophobia stood in his way between getting places and having a peaceful mental state. It didn’t matter which route he took, if it wasn’t wild animals, it was strays, he couldn’t help but be terrified when they showed up, in such large numbers, that just kept growing. His worst days were the ones when he didn’t have anything to feed them, and thus no way to stop them from drawing near to him. He always booked it like a demon was nipping at his tail, and no matter where he was, he always caught the attention of the birds. Oh how the birds were the biggest trouble. They didn’t do anything, but by the time he arrived to that part of the road, his brain had already summed up the worst scenario possible. By that time, he was already scared out of his whits about what they could do. At the bird’s call, the animals were always too close for comfort, and this violin case was his only shield against their advances. There was no way he could survive if he had to start putting an actual violin in it.

His mother couldn’t know that the anxiety had come back, and if he told anyone they would tell her too; he had to deal with this on his own.

He stood up, wiping away the remaining tears and nose drip across the sleeves of his uniform. The animals wouldn’t follow him this far, he would live another day. He could only wish his mother would be off soon enough to pick him up like normal.

One day, he would fight this, and he wouldn’t need to stuff his violin case full of animal snacks.

Someday.

Maybe. —{980/1000}

[Meow :3]

Res.

( Ignore this, I have changed my mind about entering. Beautiful Kal, though. )

[Rythrox]

mark

[deerbroken]

saw some really neat entries and wanted to give others a chance so im droppin out! good luck all !