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#i thought gai’s scarf was cute to draw haha
equill · 6 months
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Mission failed
Extra: helpful advice
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undercovermcdfan · 7 years
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title: melting point
summary: this just in: local delinquent befriends a very punny science nerd; chemistry calls it attraction, but Sasha is calling for help. Tasha. Modern AU/HS AU.
a/n: I haven’t written Tasha yet and…. Wow… I really fall for this pairing? Then again, I’m always weak for delinquents/nerds pairing. I wish I could’ve made this longer but I felt good where I stopped it ;;
dedicated to: @gay-for-sasha-png, I wish you a very happy birthday sweetie
warning(s): high school crushes, dorks, Teony being… the absolute gem we know her as
It’s funny—not in a haha way, but a very this is just my luck self-deprecating way.
Local delinquent befriends Honor Roll Slash Science Dweeb; a no-good basket case who often gets chase by teachers seen (not too enthusiastically) greeting Golden girl of their oh so great school, almost beauty meets beast except beast happens to a too cool, high-topping junior.
Well, to those on the outside see this strangeness.
Reality, it’s even more hilarious—that very same delinquent, neurotic on the inside and passive fire starter on the outside, didn’t just see Miss Always Smiling as a friend…
“I think I’m in love,” she announces out loud.
Zenix looks at her, deadpans. Laurance’s mouth goes agape—then shuts.
Synchronize “What” fell from both, genuine surprise and twinge of horror from her best friend.
She didn’t quite laugh, fiddling with her lighter as she looks onto the soccer field; sometimes after school, her and Zenix would hang around Laurance’s practice (he’s on some strange kick to straighten out his life—his sophomore year is all about joining clubs, pulling up his grades, hanging less and less with them but never turning them away when they appear). Frankly, she didn’t feel all too well; almost queasy, like after taking a bite out of Cadenza’s cooking.
On the Brightside, she didn’t need to say the name of who—Zenix and Laurance immediately realize, then a flash of sympathy from Laurance getting her dilemma.
She, Sasha no last-name needed, might be falling for Teony, also no last-name needed.
.
.
.
“I don’t whine,” Sasha says, shooting Teony a ‘would you give it up’ expression as she leans over the textbook, double checking the steps if in case they were doing them correctly, “I’m not that bad.”
Teony snickers, tipping over the vial in her right hand into the beaker. “A second ago you said you wanted to die because of my hilarious joke.”
“Hilarious,” Sasha shakes her head, “Torture isn’t hilarious.”
“You have a terrible sense of humor.”
“Me.”
“Even Lily has a better sense than you,” Teony nods, turning the dial on burner, “And I only ever see her laughing at other people’s expense.”
“This tutorship is over, done,” Sasha peers at the breaker, watching the liquid change color and makes a note, “I do not take insults sitting down.”
“Good thing you’re standing?” And then comes the laugh, Teony shielding herself behind her note book, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m just in a teasing mood. Sasha, c’mon.”
Her lips twitch, which she tries to hide but Teony knows her too well. She didn’t need to look directly at her to know how wide and brightly she’s smiling.
Reaching out for her hand, Teony squeezes her fingers and gives a giggle as she whispers, “Can I see that smile?”
Heart palpitations, this sophomore gives her. Her cheek warms and she turns her head even further, muttering “Buzz off. I only smile for friends who tell good jokes.”
“You wound me, Miss Sasha,” Teony laughs, letting go of her hand—an act Sasha is sourly didn’t want to happen, “I’ll see that smile one of these days. A real smile.”
She shrugs. I want you to see it.
Sasha spots her before she sees Sasha.
Her hair bounces with every pace, mumbling softly to herself, oblivious to all around.
It’s kinda cute how she squeaks suddenly, bumping into her head first into her—Sasha smirks, her hands stuff into her jacket pockets. “Am I late?”
Teony glares for a moment, then deflates, her gaze going soft and she shakes her head.
“…Thank you for coming last minute.”
She sounds pretty subdue—and for the months she known the sophomore now junior, Sasha knows this means Teony is…. plotting something.
Getting an emergency text of “do you think you can help me gift shop today?” didn’t seem too big of a deal; Sasha didn’t know which friend Teony must have been gift hunting for, maybe that sprightful Aphmau who doesn’t seem to know the phrase ‘mind your business’ or loud-mouth Ivy who always pick fights.
Sasha shakes her head. They gone a long way from her tutoring Sasha AP chemistry; though Sasha wouldn’t say they were the best of friends, much less the girlfriends she’d sometime fantasies about, Teony wrapping her hands around Sasha’s offered hand makes those thought not matter in the moment. She can mope about her girlfriend-less ass later.
Shopping isn’t her favorite activity but she didn’t dislike it. Cadenza’s tendencies numb her to tolerating it, hell, maybe enjoy it a little. She takes pride in the fact she been told by Caddy of her good eye in things… when things were in pinks, purples, greys, whites or blacks.
She isn’t the most talkative but Teony always seems to draw it out of people; gift idea after gift idea, she always glance at Sasha to see her opinion. They walk around the mall, chuckling over a funny story or indulging on a particular sweet or treat or free samples from makeup/lush stores.
It’s a few hours and some change later, does Teony finally let her know who’s the present for:
“I’m so sorry,” she starts, handing the package she has in hand—it’s a scarf, purple and white, perfect for the December weather, “You never told me your birthday was last week.”
Sasha blinks. “What?”
“Heh,” Teony scratches her head, looking a little sheepish, “I was told the other day—when I got back—your birthday was last week on Thursday.”
“And you didn’t know what to get me?”
“Well I did, but… um… I wanted it to be more special than me just handing you a scarf?” Teony reaches for her hand, leaning a little closer, “What’s better than giving a gift? A date and letting you exactly pick out what you want, since I kno—”
“What. A what?”
“Um, what do you mean what.”
“What you just said right now—this is a date,” Sasha says, her voice hushed because of the crowd but also because she didn’t trust her voice, “Since when?”
“….I thought you gotten my hint? U-Um, my text said.”
“I… well shit. That explains the heart emojis,” then a smile dawns on Sasha, as she sounds touch more alive, “So this is a date? An actual date?” Her eyes meet with Teony but Teony stares.
A moment past, then a few more.
Then laughter.
She leans in, giving a small kiss on her lips.
“I love you.”
Teony pulls away, immediately gives her a suspicious look. “What did you do?”
“Shh,” Sasha leans her head against Teony’s shoulder, then whispers: “I might’ve cause another explosion in chemistry lab. Now hide me—they’re on the search for me.”
“You what,” she whispers back, then laughs. “Why do you always feel the need to wreck everything you’re good at?”
Sasha rolls her eyes. “You’re in one piece.”
“Well mmm,” Teony rests her cheek against Sasha’s head, murmuring, “You stole my heart, so not exactly in one piece.”
There’s a pause. Then a sound that suspiciously sounds like a snort comes from Sasha.
“Terrible,” a quick press of lips to her cheek, “I love you, Miss Know It all.”
“I love you too, Miss trouble maker.”
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me-myselfandziall · 7 years
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Coffee Shop Spots (Sprace)
Race works at the new coffee shop that Spot has started going to every morning. Race draws his phone number on Spot’s cup with dots every morning, and it takes a while for Spot to finally figure it out.
Read on ao3 here 
 A little bell made a tinkling sound as Spot opened the door, rushing in to get out of the cold. He made sure to shut it as quickly as possible to keep the warm air in.
A new coffeehouse had opened up between his apartment and work, so he thought he’d try it out. It was the first day of winter break and Spot decided he wanted coffee before heading to work. If the weather stayed this cold, he’d probably end up stopping every day.
Spot made his way to the counter, pulling his scarf off in the process.
“Hi! Welcome to Manhattan Mocha. What can I get for you?” the boy behind the register asked.
Spot quickly glanced at the menu, but knew what he was going to get.
“I’ll just take a small black coffee,” Spot said, finally taking a good look at the other boy. He had a mop of curly blonde hair that Spot wanted to run his hands through and eyes that he could stare at for days.
The boy grabbed a cup next to the register and said, “Can I get a name?”
Spot thought about saying Sean, his given name, but he never used it. Only Medda, his foster mom, was allowed to call him Sean.
“Spot.”
The boy raised his eyebrows. “Spot? What kind of name is that?” he asked with a smile.
Spot glanced down at the boy’s nametag. “What king of name is Racetrack?”
“Touché,” Racetrack laughed again before grabbing his pen and writing Spot on the cup.
 Spot continued to go to the coffeehouse on his way to work every day. If anybody asked, it was because it was extremely cold, and it was on his way to work. But in reality, he kept going back because of the cute boy that ran the cash register.
After two weeks, Race had Spot’s coffee ready and waiting for him every day, so the two had a chance to chat for a few minutes before Spot had to rush off to work They were lucky that there was rarely anybody else in the shop so early in the morning. Race also happened to be the manager, so he didn’t have to worry about getting in trouble.
Race and Spot’s conversations were mainly centered on their personal lives. Spot learned that Race also attended NYU and that he was also majoring in communications. Race said he wanted to be a reporter once he graduated. Race learned that Spot lived near campus in an apartment by himself and had a foster mom and two foster brothers, who he was really close with.
Spot started to develop a crush on Race, but he didn’t know if the boy happened to be gay, bi, or pan and didn’t want to risk making a fool out of himself if he asked Race out.
 It had been about a month since the first-time Spot had walked into the coffee shop. He walked in at his usual time, 7:00 a.m., and walked up to the counter where Race was waiting with his cup. Spot paid for his coffee and was about to start their daily chat session when the bell above the door rang and three people walked in.
Spot moved out of the way so they could order. When Race was checking out the last person, a group of five people walked in. Spot frowned and looked at Race, who looked a little sad. At least Spot knew that Race liked their talks as much as he did.
“Hey,” Spot grabbed Race’s attention. “I’ve gots to get to work. See you tomorrow?”
Race nodded and waved his hand before turning back to the customer who was ordering some fancy drink.
Spot walked to work like normal and was about to throw his empty coffee cup away when he noticed something on the side. Instead of his name like usual, dots decorated the side of the cup.
After a moment, Spot laughed. They’re spots, he realized. He quickly pulled out his phone to snap a picture before finally throwing the cup away.
The next morning, Spot noticed the same thing on his cup. He didn’t want to say anything to Race about it because it was cute and he didn’t want Race to stop.
During their conversations that week, Spot noticed that Race’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes like it used to, but he figured it was just exhaustion. Race had mentioned that he had a big project that he had been staying up late to work on.
The rest of the week passed the same way; spots on Spot’s cups and Race’s sad smile.
On Friday, Spot didn’t have to work, but he thought he would take Jack to the shop because he had never been, and Spot had told Jack enough about it.
“Hey, Race! This is my brother, Jack,” Spot said once they entered the tiny shop.
“Nice to finally meet you, Jack. I’ve heard so much about you.” Race held out his hand, which Jack shook.
Jack ordered while Spot picked up his waiting coffee cup off the counter.
A few more people entered after Spot paid, and since he didn’t have to rush to work, him and Jack took their cups and went to go sit at a table in the corner.
Spot sat his cup on the table after making himself comfortable and was about to say something when Jack spoke first.
“What’s that?” Jack asked, pointing to the side of Spot’s cup.
Spot picked up his cup and turned it.
“Oh, Race has been drawing those on my cup this week. They’re spots, because you know, Spot?” he chuckled.
Today was a little different though. Around some of the dots were parentheses and a dash was mixed in as well.
“Dude. I think that’s his phone number,” Jack said as he pulled the cup from Spot’s grasp. “See, look. It’s like the numbers on dice. That’s why there are parentheses and that dash.”
Spot grabbed his cup back to look closer at the cup.
“How did you miss that? Wait, how long has he been putting those on your cup?” Jack wondered.
“Just this week. I just thought he was doodling! Maybe that’s why he has seemed a bit sad when we talk.” Everything was making sense to Spot now.
“Well text him. Now! Don’t keep him waiting, even though he is right over there,” Jack said.
Spot quickly pulled out his phone and punched in the numbers before typing his message.
 To: Racetrack
Apparently I’m daft and it took my brother to figure this out; sorry it took so long. This is Spot by the way.
 Spot hit send and looked up to watch Race. He had just handed a cup to the last person in line. Once they turned around, Race reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. A moment later, Spot’s phone buzzed.
 From Racetrack
Haha! I’m glad you’re just daft and not just ignoring and rejecting me ;)
 Race and Spot continued to text back and forth until more customers entered the shop.
About a week and a half later, the two were planning their first date. Spot finally gained the courage to ask Race out, who said ‘yes’ by spelling it out in dots on Spot’s daily cup of coffee.
Let me know what you think! If you have prompts (newsies or from any fandom I reblog here), let me know! 
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