Writing!

LEGS

The thing that keeps this rat on the move, where youll find him wherever he crawls in. In here you can find plenty of Fanfiction and oc stories!

CRUMPLED LETTERS

>Donut canyon >confessions >prest'in >Tr'out (oc)

CHAPTER 1:Prest’in stood in front of an unfamiliar door, his thumbs pressed into the thick envelope paper. He felt like he could pass out, his face felt hotter than ever. He quickly presses the doorbell, quickly loving his hands back down in front of him. He gives the letter a small squeeze, accidentally causing a small crease along the outside. He huffs, but isn't given time to think about that when he’s met with a lovely face. He feels his chest tighten, wishing he would’ve taken a second longer to rehearse this. Inside of the letter sat an extremely personal note full of feelings that could ruin any chance he had with this girl. Either she would love it or hate it, he had no idea. “Uh-hey dude.” She said, her deep voice slicing through Prest’in like a blade. Her voice wasn’t quiet or sweet like he would expect, it was deep like a boy's. He stared for a minute, his face dropping a bit. He had only ever admired her from afar now that he was thinking about it. She had a face that slotted into his own so perfectly, her fashion style was something he couldn’t get over, but was that all that mattered to him? Now that he was really looking, she did have broader shoulders. Maybe a bit of a squarer face. He didn’t realize how long he had been silently staring into her face until it was scrunched in confusion. “Oh right um..sorry yeah! Hi!” He said, stumbling over his words in a way that wasn’t natural for him. He was normally so calm, why now of all times was he panicking?! If they were a boy, they were definitely pretty one. “..hi?” They said back tilting their head a bit. “Um..shit..right uh- here.” He said, swinging the letter out to them. He quickly pulled himself away, taking his skates as fast as he could go out of there. He didn’t know why he ran, he knew he shouldn’t have, but he panicked. He wasn’t sure why he still gave them the letter. He didn’t like guys like that, or at least he didn’t think he did. It was just a mistake! He thought they were a girl! Maybe that wasn’t the part that freaked him out, maybe it was that he wasn’t not interested in them. He wasn’t disgusted by them at all. He let out a rough sigh, pushing the skate stop against the sand. He came to a slow stop, adjusting the placement of his bag against his shoulder. Maybe he just needed a bit to think. He glanced into his bag, counting how many letters he still had. Just a few stops, nothing too far out. He tried to get the worst of the stops out of the way first, making the end of his job a bit less tiring. He zipped between all the final houses, picking up speed each time they came to mind. Occasionally he would be stopped for some small talk, but he was used to that. For once he was grateful for the dumb ramblings given to him. It was a needed distraction. He thought a few times that maybe he was just mistaken when he realized they looked a bit too masculine. Maybe his brain was just tricking him after what he heard. Their voice could just be a bit deep. He eventually made his way home, quickly moving to untie the laces of his skates. The sudden change in height did always mess him up, making his steps a bit awkward, but nothing he wasn’t used to. He tried to simply distract himself, snagging his journal from the coffee table. He wasn’t sure when his parents would be home, but he didn’t care too much. He was alone after a weird day, it was for the best. He probably should’ve asked someone about them before he made some dumb long poem. He would just get seen as some dumb queer kid. He couldn’t even get anything out onto the paper, his hands were shaking too much for comfort. He knocked his head back, hoping for something to reassure him, some thought that would save him, but nothing came to mind. He was too stuck on the idea of losing people around him if this got out. He was definitely popular, but it was because he was agreeable and easy to talk to. He basically never made his opinions loud, knowing it could break a friendship faster than he could ever think. He closed his journal again, placing it back against the table and curling up against the couch. He just needed a nap, he would be fine after. That's how it always was.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO MARRY ME? AND IF YOUD LIKE YOU CAN BUY THE RING

>Donut canyon >Marion >Clat >Confessions

CHAPTER 1:Once again Prest’in sat yet another bouquet of flowers on the door step of the library. Orange, red, and lavender spirals of floral color, combining into a soon to be tossed out collection. He gave a small polite knock to the glass doors, before quickly leaving without a word. Marion poked his head out, glaring down at the flora. Over the past month, someone had been wasting time sending multiple bouquets a week. Anyone with even a hint of a brain could figure out why that was a stupid idea. Marion was a heartless jerk with no cares for anyone. Love wasn't even an option for him. Once again, he scooped up the paper wrapped flowers, and threw them to the trash. He was about to walk away, simply forget about the gifts and appreciation for the day, but something just kept drawing him back. There was a letter attached to it. He sighed, walked back over, leaned down and scanned the letter. In a dark orange pen it wrote "Clat Burlington" on the top corner with a sort of blocky cursive. He could place sort of a face from that. The business man with the brick obsession a bit behind the library. His house was an eye sore. He put the letter down by his desk, only considering reading it for a few brief seconds. He would probably burn it when he got the chance. For now, he would go back to normal stocking shelves for children who couldn't care to put things back correctly. ————————— Clat paced around his mansion anxiously. He knew it wasn't a big deal, every date he had asked Marion to was met with nothing, but on the slim chance he would get a shot, what would he even do? Talk the poor mans ear off? he hadn't even been sure if Marion was interested in men at all. Probably not, considering he was getting thoroughly ghosted. He would've gone with a more personal gift rather than flowers, but he didn't know the first thing about him. He liked reading, and he liked being rude, but past that he couldn't pin his interests. He wished he had just payed a little more attention, maybe he wouldn't be failing so badly. For the last 5 nights he requested a date at the drive in. It was something simple, something where they didn't have to speak too much. Maybe he could get Marion to at least not be bothered by his company then. This all felt like attempting to tame a stray animal. If he wasn't careful, he would be bitten.