#dragon ball motorcycles

[motoreveries]

It saddens me with a heavy heart that the legend and the GOAT of both anime and manga, the master, Akira Toriyama, has passed away. His creativity and comical genius along with his masterful character design touched the hearts of many across the world including myself. Not only was I a fan of his manga and anime but I am still till this day a fan of his interesting and bizarre motorcycle design.

Rest in Peace Toriyama Akira-san, legendary creative genius and motorcycle enthusiast.

Music:

Makafushigi Adventure! by music artist Hiroki Takahashi — produced for the Dragon Ball TV series released in 1984 by Akira Toriyama.

Visuals are from the Dragon Ball TV series and the Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z manga comics.

[turtletoads]

so many tails

[artbookisland]

Scan from Dragon Ball by Akira Toriyama.

[arcadebroke]

link

[boanerges20]

Capsule Corp. Bulma's Motorcycle.

[grimmcheems]

Apparently people ship these two lmao. Not a ship art but you could view it that way. Only made something goofy…..it was never gonna stop at just learning to drive cars, Chichi gotta lock in and make sure they know at least five diff other modes of transportation that isn’t flying or instant transmission💀🗿

I rly liked doing this in grasyscale? With a lil splash of color ofc.

I also think im going to focus on doing my Future!Chichi AU for my DB arts for now, I have so many DB aus so im just gonna try and do them one at a time.

[updates-with-photon]

Dragon Ball X Shadow Generations

Being a fan of both Sonic the hedgehog and Dragon Ball z, gotta say: I'm eating good this year lol. Getting some games, a movie and a show! Here's some art to celebrate.

Posted using PostyBirb

[spidersaiyan]

Finished up my Bulma piece last night! This was a fun one to draw, and super-nostalgic for me! Hope ya like it! :D

[shutterbricks]

In memory of Akira Toriyama, here’s a picture of Goku and Bulma headed out on Bulma’s motorcycle to find the Dragon Balls

[mixed-up-multiverse]

@pixels-hub sent: " you're the littlest bot i've ever seen ! are you sure you're cybertronian ? " / thrash for kikmee / @dragons-cove .

Unprompted asks | Literally always accepting!

It was just Kikmee's luck to slide down the one wrong vent and end up suddenly falling through the chute that led outside the mall. In the back and away from people's sight, thankfully. It was honestly kind of scary, seeing how big the outside world was compared to her indoor home. So now, her focus was finding another way back into the mall. One that was preferably away from the sight of Flesh beings.

But it seemed that in her search, she'd found another bot! A... much MUCH larger bot. Kikmee was, at first, very terrified and tempted to transform into ball-mode to roll right out of there. After all, someone this big could easily crush her. Or eat her. Or worse!

However, he made no attempts to do it yet. In fact, he actually seemed more curious than aggressive. So Kikmee was beginning to feel a little less afraid. But what was a Cybertronian? And more importantly, what was this massive bot doing outside of the safety of the mall? Unless... did he live outside, where he could be seen by the flesh beings twenty-four seven? No, that would be crazy.

...Right?

"Yeah. No. Uh, Maybe? What's a cybertronian?" she asked before glancing around briefly. "And what are you doing outside of the mall? It's dangerous out here, we could be spotted by one of them!"

[cottoncandybitchfuck]

Fabian Aramais Seacaster, a darling boy, the son of William Seacaster and Hallariel Seacaster. He's a fighter, and his money got him everywhere he wants to be in life. He punched Gorgug on the first day, and he got detention. He didn't get on the owlbears. He ends up in a detention room full of weirdos. They fought in the cafeteria and he could not get on the tables! Two of them die... They became friends while solving a mystery. He got a motorcycle holding a demon within it. He bought gifts for his new friends and didn’t tell them he got them until many episodes later. He learned how to protect people, he became a team player. He became captain of the Owlbears. He mercy killed his dad…He told his mom to get her shit together. He helped kill a dragon and he was just a freshman. He went to his dad’s old stomping grounds and he lost his confidence after he got many pirates killed. He de-classed, and almost killed his motorcycle. He met his grandfather and became a dancer, connecting with his mother’s side of the family. He kissed a fire elemental and gained bardic powers. “Spring Break, I believe in you!” He helped his friends. He went to hell, his motorcycle is a hellhound. He fights on his father’s ship in hell and fights all of the people he helped kill in his freshman year. “You have no heart!” “Toxic Masculinity is dead. I dance Now!” He tried to claw his way through stone to Kristen when she was in danger in the temple of the Goddess of Mystery. He found Gorgug in the Nightmare King’s Forest and hugged him, a different greeting for the two. He knew they’d be okay because they were the bad kids. He helps seal the Night Yorb, almost getting run over numerous times. He was in love with a mirror, but his friends helped with that. His best friend is the Ball, but he’ll never admit it. He is living alone, and that sucks. He threw a ton of parties and had many study sessions. He did anything to not be alone. He slowly falls in love with another bard but he almost loses her a few times. He lept into a briefcase without a plan to save his friend. His mom is having another kid, and she might love this one more than she loved him. He saves the world again, and finally gets to see his dad. His dad says he would love him without his name being written anywhere, and would give up everything to spend another day with him. But his name is written places, because he is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, and he’s a part of the bad kids. 

It is 4 am (1 pm) in a warehouse in Santa Monica (dorm building, not in Santa Monica) and I am emotional about him

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Soulmates share their dreams every night and can communicate in them, but it's Spiderbit

For day three of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Soulmates

-

Dream One: How to Train Your Dragon

He blinks awake and finds himself far from the battlefield. His clothes are dry and not muddy, his skin is clean, his teeth feel dull in his mouth.

He's in a strange room: fireplace, stiff bed beneath him(but, really, any kind of bed is better than what he's had since the War started.) The smell of cooked fish.

He grimaces. He likes cooked flesh better, thanks.

This is a dream. He knows it's a dream, so he doesn't hesitate in hopping out of bed and stretching. There isn't a burn in his muscles, and the dull ache of his growing bones is finally gone. Heck yeah.

It's peaceful, in a way. Weird, but peaceful. Really disconcerting, but peaceful.

And then a monster screeches outside loud enough to shake the windowpanes.

He instinctively reaches for his sword, realizes that, right, dream. Of course he wouldn't have his sword in his dreams, that would be stupid.

He runs outside, anyway, because duh. If there's a monster, he wants to see it!

He sees the dragon first: large and yellow and missing one of its legs. It growls at him with a weird dragony smile, and he smiles back.

He sees the child second: short with messy hair and freckles. He gasps when he sees him and runs at him with a gap-toothed smile.

"Hi!" he chirps. He's speaking Portuguese, but that isn't what his mouth is saying. Dream stuff, huh, must be translating everything.

Neat.

"You're my soulmate, right?" the boy asks. He looks him over appraisingly. "You aren't that much older than me."

He scoffs, crosses his arms. "I'm literally so much older than you."

"Yeah? Well, how old are you, then?"

He blinks, throat dry. "I'm-" (He can't remember. But Bad always says that he looks to be about 13, so...) "-13. So I'm way older than you."

The boy puffs his chest out annoyedly. "Only by a few years. Screw you!"

The dragon flies off, bored. He would care more if there wasn't an annoying little kid in front of him pissing him off.

He takes an angry step forward, arms falling to his sides and hands balling into fists. He might not have his sword, but he can still beat up a kid easy.

"Screw you!" he shouts. "Get out of my dream! I wanna go hang out with the dragons."

"It's our dream, idiot," the kid huffs. "We're soulmates, duh. My grandpa says that everyone shares dreams with their soulmates, so we're obviously soulmates."

"What the fuck is a soulmate?"

The kid gasps, all anger pouring out of his tiny little body. "You don't know what a soulmate is?"

He doesn't know what his own name is, but he isn't exactly gonna tell some kid that.

He turns to leave and go find the dragon, but he's stopped by both of the kid's tiny hands grabbing his sleeve and pulling at him until he stays.

He turns to look at the kid, and the kid smiles and explains.

-

"Soulmates are, well, soulmates, okay? They're like super best friends, that's what my grandpa says. His soulmate is dead, but they still hang out in his dreams because that's where your soulmate lives until you find them. And after you find them, too, I think, but I dunno. He says he never met his soulmate before they died, but I think he's lying 'cause he's really silly sometimes."

"Okay, but. Us? You and me? You're a kid."

"You're a kid, too, you know."

"Nuh-uh. I'm a soldier."

"A kid soldier. But, anyway, we're soulmates! When we meet in the real world, we're gonna be best friends, I can tell!"

"Yeah? Well, don't be too sure. I don't do friends."

"Wow, you're emo."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?!"

-

Dream Thirty-Two: Cyberpunk

He laughs as he chases the kid through the slimy, neon-ridden back alleys of the city. He's on a motorcycle, because of course he is, but the kid is on foot.

"Just give up already!" he shouts.

The kid flips him off over his shoulder, grinning widely. He keeps tripping over his own shoelaces, because he's running like an idiot, but he's somehow still faster than the motorcycle.

He doesn't know the kid's name because the kid decided it wouldn't be fair to have a name when he doesn't know his own. Sweet kid. Shame he's annoying.

"Fuck you!" the kid replies. He then proceeds to trip over the cuff of his pants and fall right onto his face in a muddy puddle.

He cackles triumphantly and slows the bike to a stop. He hops off it and goes to poke at the kid until he gives up, but... but he's crying. Quietly, he's crying quietly, but his shoulders are shaking, and, oh, right, he's a child. He's the younger one.

His face falls. He kneels next to the kid and helps him sit up with a frown.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

The kid's lip wobbles, and his eyes shine, but he nods. "It's just a dream. It doesn't really hurt."

He isn't convinced, but, well. It is a dream. Nothing matters in a dream, right?

"Okay," he hesitantly says. "Come on, let's go play laser tag or something."

The kid's eyes light up. "Cool! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Oh, really?" he challenges. "You're on!"

And they run off, motorcycle forgotten.

-

"How did you beat me!?"

"I'm just a God Gamer, dude. Get on my level."

"You are so annoying."

-

Dream Seven Hundred and Fifty-Two: High School

"I think I'm going to give myself a name," he announces.

The kid's eyes widen. "Really? Took you long enough."

He rolls his eyes, but the kid isn't wrong. They've been meeting in their dreams for, what, two years? And they still don't have anything to call each other but "idiot" and "you" and "asshole".

But, well, it's about time, he thinks. The War is ending soon, he thinks. Bad says so, at least, and he's pretty good with knowing when things end.

With the War ending, he's going to have to go out into the "real world"... if he doesn't manage to follow Bad where he goes next. But where's the fun in that?

He shrugs. "I need a name. If I don't have one, I can't join the army."

"Why do you wanna join the army?"

"So I can keep killing people, duh. How else am I supposed to get food?"

"Uh, the store?"

"What's that?"

The kid rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder. "You're literally stupid, what the heck?"

They're in some kind of food line, he thinks. They shuffle forward as the faceless teenagers in front of them get their trays and continue through the line.

He picks up his own tray and wrinkles his nose at the food he sincerely hopes isn't about to be placed on it. Where's the meat?

"What kind of name do you want?" the kid asks.

He's hit some kind of growth spurt, because he's finally up to his shoulder. Still short, though. Loser.

"Dunno," he responds. "I'll think of something later, probably."

-

"What about... Peter?"

"No."

"Miles."

"No."

"Miguel."

"No."

"Ben."

"No."

"You suck!"

-

Dream One Thousand and Ninety-Five: Mermaids

"Call me Cell," he says.

The kid- not quite a kid anymore, much closer to Cell's age when the soulmate dreams started- cocks his head curiously.

"Like, as in a cell phone?" he asks.

Cell grins as shark-like as the tail he's currently sporting.

"Exactly," he says.

The kid's eyes narrow. "Or, like in a prison cell. Did you kill someone again?"

"...Maybe, but-"

"Oh my God, how are we supposed to meet each other if you're in jail!"

The kid swims around in a frustrated circle around Cell, who just watches him, placid. Calm. Totally cool, definitely not at all sheepish over pissing his soulmate off.

That would be ridiculous.

Cell doesn't get sheepish, and he definitely doesn't feel regret. Not over some kid.

...Some kid who's his soulmate. They're best friends already, though, so he should be fine with Cell being stuck in prison for a bit.

Cell rolls his eyes and reaches out and grabs the kid and stops him from swimming. He looks him in the eyes, and he smiles, softer than intended. (He's Cell! He isn't soft. He's a killer!)

"Calm down," he drawls. "I'll be out of here before you know it."

"Really?" the kid asks. "Is your sentence that short?"

"Nah, I'm gonna break out."

He lets the kid go and starts swimming off in a random direction, not waiting for the kid to follow. (He does.)

"Must be a shitty prison, then," the kid comments.

"Trust me, I'll be out soon, and then I can try getting up to Mexico again to see you."

"Then I can teach you how to drive."

Cell flicks his tail at him annoyedly. "Shut up, I can already drive."

"No way."

"Yes way!"

They continue bickering and chasing each other through the coral until Cell feels consciousness tickling at him.

"Hey," he asks, "I told you my name. You tell me yours."

The kid smiles, and he does.

-

"My name is Roier."

"And my name is Cell."

"You already told me that, idiot."

"Oh, yeah."

-

Dream One Thousand, Eight Hundred, and Twenty-Seven: 1920s Mafia

Even in his dreams, he's dying. He's in a pool of his own blood with a couple dozen bullets plugged into his chest, but it doesn't hurt quite as much as the goddamn betrayal burning his skin from the inside out.

If he dies in the dream, he wakes up. Cell knows this, so he's more than a little annoyed about the whole dying thing. At least in his dreams, dying doesn't hurt.

The cops that killed him have already long gone. They may not have had faces, but Cell knows precisely who they looked like. All four of them were traitors, all four of them!

"Bastards," he spits. He groans as the movement of his tongue alone sets off flares of imaginary pain (because he can't feel pain in dreams, but he sure can imagine what it feels like) all throughout his body.

In the real world, he's starving to death in a cave. In the dream world, he's choking on his own blood.

Great.

His eyes slip closed, and he waits to wake up.

He doesn't react as a pair of heels click towards him.

"Cell?" Roier asks, but his voice is just the slightest bit off. But, then again, he is a teenager now. His voice is going to be doing all sorts of weird shit. "Oh my God, Cell! What the- hold on!"

Cell gasps as he's rolled onto his back. His eyes flutter open, and he sees... a girl? A girl in a really bad wig. With even worse makeup.

"Roier?" he mumbles. "What are you wearing?"

Roier looks down at himself- red sparkly dress and all- and blushes slightly. "I'm... trying something out. But what happened? You showed up in the dream and you ran off and I heard gunshots and you're so stupid, what the fuck?!"

He grits his teeth and smacks Cell lightly on the shoulder. But that's still enough to wrack Cell's body with pain.

"I'm sorry," he wheezes, eyes squinting closed once more. "I'm dying."

"It's a dream, Cell. I'm just pissed you're leaving this early. You just got here!"

"No, Roier. I'm dying. In the real world."

Roier goes quiet.

Cell swallows the blood in his throat and continues, "Pac and Mike and... and Guaxinim. They betrayed me. Left me on an island. I'm dying."

"You can't be," Roier faintly says. "We haven't met yet."

"Didn't your grandfather say he sees his soulmate in his dreams? We'll be fine."

"My grandpa is also senile. Cell, I- you're so stupid."

Something wet falls onto Cell's cheek, but it isn't rain. It never rains in dreams. It's always sunny.

Fuck. He made Roier cry. Maybe is a monster after all, and not in the good way.

The dream world starts dissolving, starting with Cell's fingertips. It... tingles.

Why can't real death be as soft?

-

"You better live, or... or I'll never talk to you again!"

"I... I'll try. Roier, I'll try."

-

Dream Two Thousand, Five Hundred, and Fifty-Five: My Little Pony

Tonight, he's a horse.

Why not.

It's his first dream in, what, two weeks? He hasn't slept long enough to dream. It's hard to sleep when all he sees until the dreams kick in is his own mistakes.

But, well. Cell turned 20 today (he thinks, he's still not sure about his actual age), and Felps got him drunk to celebrate. Drunk means sleepy, and sleepy means dreams, and dreams mean-

"Roier!" he calls, running through the streets of the pony town desperately. "I made it!"

Roier knows that he's been having trouble sleeping since his whole moral dilemma thing started after Alcatraz. He doesn't quite get it, but he's trying, and that's all that matters, right?

None of the faceless ponies pay Cell any attention as he goes, but that's fine. Fuck them. He promised his best friend that they'd see each other, and they're going to see each other.

He doesn't have to look too far, thankfully, because, a few moments in, a blazing red blur bolts out of the sky and tackles Cell to the ground.

"Happy birthday!" Roier exclaims.

He grins, wings flaring behind him. What's this called, a pegasus?

Roier's eyes widen, and his jaw drops in shock. "What the fuck, you're a unicorn? Lucky!"

Cell tries looking at his own horn, going so far as to go cross-eyed, but all he manages to do is make himself look goofy.

It makes Roier laugh, at least. That's good. He's been having... a rough time, Cell thinks. He's been quieter when they have been able to meet up. Something about his brother leaving to go to college: a child prodigy gone to an exclusive university and leaving his twin behind.

Cell can't imagine what it would be like to have a twin. Weird, right? Someone that looks just like him but is different? Yeah, no thanks.

(He gave up on any ideas of family a long time ago. Thinking about whoever he had before the War just makes him sad.)

"You're red," Cell intelligently says.

"And you're green. You look like shit."

Cell bites Roier's ear and smiles as Roier lets out an exaggerated scream.

"Missed you," Cell says, and he means it.

"Yeah, well, I didn't miss you at all," Roier sniffs.

But Cell doesn't believe him at all.

-

"I still can't believe your brother's name is Doied."

"Our parents weren't very original."

"Maybe you should do what I did and just pick a name."

"Fuck you, man, I like my name!"

"Lucky. I wish I could change mine. It's too... heavy."

"I mean, you already did it once. Just do it again."

"...You're right."

"I usually am."

-

Dream Four Thousand, Seven Hundred, and Forty-Eight: Medieval

Cellbit hasn't seen Roier for days, and he's maybe starting to freak out. Maybe. Just a little.

Just before he'd disappeared, Roier had mentioned winning some kind of lottery. He was excited, and Cellbit was excited for him. He'd been looking for his asshole twin brother for years, he deserved a break.

But then the break happened.

And Roier hasn't slept since, apparently.

But Cellbit sleeps every night, anyway, even if he'd much rather be spending his nights trying to figure out where the fuck his soulmate went. Because Roier's... Roier is his soulmate. They've been sharing dreams for thirteen years now, they're best friends, and Cellbit is dying without him.

Tonight's dream has Cellbit in a knight's costume drinking flavorless alcohol in a bar. Nothing has tasted right since Roier has disappeared.

He isn't dead, at least. If he was dead, then he would be in the dreams. So he's just... not sleeping. Somewhere. Somewhere not sleeping.

Cellbit's hand shakes with rage and fear as he raises his cup to his lips.

He isn't a killer anymore. Well, he is, but he only kills animals now. He's a butcher, but not in the serial killer way. In the... in the butcher way.

(His hands itch for more blood, but he's been trying to do better.

He can't meet Roier if he's in prison, after all.)

It's as he's drinking that the bar's door slams open and stumbling in comes Roier in fancy robes with a gold crown perched on top of his head.

Cellbit drops his cup and immediately gets off of his stool to rush to Roier's side.

"Roier, what the fuck?" he demands. "Where have you been?"

He pulls Roier into a tight hug, mindful of his armor.

God, is he crying? How embarrassing, but Roier's seen worse from him.

But:

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Roier asks.

And Cellbit's heart drops.

Roier wriggles free and looks Cellbit over. This... this can't be Roier, can it? Because there's no recognition in his eyes as he looks at Cellbit, and no slight blush as Cellbit looks at him.

Roier gasps. "Oh, wow. Are you my soulmate?"

Cellbit's eyes sting. "I- yes, Roier, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Kinda annoyed that you took so long, though."

Roier smacks Cellbit's shoulder.

Cellbit can't breathe.

"I'm 21, motherfucker!" Roier shouts. "What took you so long!"

"I've been here," Cellbit faintly says. "Roier, I've been here. What happened to you? You said you- you got invited to some island? And then you disappeared? What happened?"

Something sparks behind Roier's eyes, but it's gone as fast as it appears.

"I've been alone for years!" Roier exclaims. He groans and runs his hands through his hair, almost knocking the crown off his head. "God, what is Spreen going to think?"

"Spreen? Who's Spreen?"

And then Roier blushes, and he grins, and Cellbit feels sick to his goddamn stomach.

"Spreen is my best friend," Roier tells him, and Cellbit wants to kill.

-

"Where are you? In the real world?"

"On the island. Where are you? Maybe Osito Bimbo can bring you or something. We have train stations, there's gotta be special tickets for soulmates."

"I'm in Brazil. What island?"

"Quesadilla Island, of course."

-

Reality: Day One

Cellbit's head is killing him. Fucking... what happened? He can't... he can't remember...

"Cellbit, you doing okay?" Felps asks.

He seems fine, sitting on the ground and not at all caring about the literal shipwreck they're stuck in.

"Oh, sure, as Cellbit if he's doing okay," Mike scoffs. He's still not over the whole prison thing, but he'd been angry enough when hearing about Cellbit's soulmate being kidnapped to help kickstart the whole rescue mission.

What a good friend.

Pac rolls his eyes. "He's literally bleeding, Mike. Look at him!"

Oh, shit, is Cellbit bleeding?

He raises a hand to his head; it comes away bloody, oh.

At least it's stopped raining outside. Cellbit can't see much, trapped with the others in what might be some kind of office space just below-deck. But he can't hear the rain anymore, and he can't hear any thunder.

"I'm fine," he sighs. "I've had worse. We should-"

He's cut off by a shout from outside.

Pac's eyes widen comically. "This island is occupied?"

Apparently so, because in comes a whole stream of people through a single door inlaid in the far wall. Tall man in what has to be anime cosplay, slightly shorter man covered in... green goo? Woman in purple. Man in bucket hat. And...

Cellbit's eyes meet Roier's, and the world slots into place around them.

Cellbit stumbles up to the glass wall and presses his hands against it. So close...

Roier is much more hesitant to approach (he still hasn't found that Spreen guy yet, of course he's hesitant...), but he offers Cellbit a small, genuine smile.

(He's so much more handsome in person, what the fuck? When did this happen? He was shorter than Cellbit just a moment ago, he swears.)

"Finally," Cellbit breathes.

The crowd around them is drowned out by the sound of Roier's voice as he says, awed-sounding, "You actually came for me."

"Of course I did," Cellbit replies. He smiles. "We're soulmates, aren't we?"

Tears well up in Roier's eyes- happy tears, Cellbit knows him well enough to be able to tell the different by now.

And then the door opens.

[amongemeraldclouds]

so high school

you know how to ball, I know Aristotle

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader (Modern AU)

Warning: fluff, no use of y/n

Author's note: I can't think of a good summary for this, but it's all about going on a motorcycle ride with Mattheo because he aced the test you tutored him for.

✿ Masterlist | TTPD Masterlist | 643 words

“Come on, pretty girl,” Mattheo said, handing you his spare helmet. You eyed it suspiciously, but held your hand out anyway, accepting it.

Your plan worked a little too well. Tutoring Mattheo was anything but easy, so to motivate him, you agreed he could get a reward each time he scored well on a test.

He said he would show you how to have fun. You smacked his arm and he promised he would be an honorable gentleman and keep things wholesome, unless you wanted more. To which you insisted, you did not.

Never mind the way your stomach fluttered when you were near him, or how your thoughts would get derailed when his arm brushed accidentally against yours. You knew better than to get involved with the resident troublemaker at your school.

You countered instead that fun looked like different things to different people. So if he showed you something he found fun, you’d also get to show him something you enjoyed. He shrugged his shoulders and agreed. Besides, if he got top marks in class, you’d receive a hefty bonus, which was more than enough of your savings goal for university.

That was how you found yourself rock climbing, racing cars, and now, your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, hair flying in the wind, as he whisked you both away in his motorcycle.

After a while, you found yourself relaxing as you got used to the speed and found you enjoyed the rush as you cut through the air, cars and buildings blurring past you. There was something freeing about it and it certainly did not hurt to feel his toned body snug against yours.

You almost complained when he slowed down as you approached the beach. “So?” He asked, grinning as he took off his helmet. You were tempted to fix his helmet hair and run your fingers through his luscious locks, but held yourself back.

You couldn’t, however, stop yourself from mirroring his grin, adrenaline pumping through your veins. “Not bad, Riddle.”

He laid out a blanket he packed and you both settled in, listening to the waves, as the sun painted the sky a blend of red, orange, and yellow. You took a moment to breathe it all in, the salt air and the warmth of Mattheo beside you.

It was your turn to tell him all about the book you were reading about. You showed him how fun could also exist in far away realms with magic and dragons. How books were portals to these worlds where mysteries get solved and people find happy endings. Despite his initial eye roll weeks earlier, you found he was a great listener who seemed genuinely enthralled by your stories.

Little did you know it was because of you. Mattheo loved watching you come to life, the spark twinkling in your eye when you showed him something you thought was fun. You were a captivating storyteller. He could listen to you for hours and it would only feel like minutes. You always left him wanting more.

Your eyes could rival the sun and he wanted to kiss you then and there, but stopped himself. He watched your feelings bloom slowly with the way you had to pause when his arm ‘accidentally’ brushed yours. How you always seemed to have his favorite pack of candy around and you always leaned into him when you laughed.

He loved your laugh, and everything else about you. He was going to wait until your feelings grew to the point where you could no longer deny them. Then he would be honest. It had been a few weeks since he fell for you with the exact same approach he took with everything else in his life - fully and unapologetically.

When it was your turn to fall, he was ready to be a safe place to land.

✿ Masterlist | TTPD Masterlist

A/N: This is one of the least literal interpretation out of all my TTPD fics so far, but the song ‘So High School’ is just PERFECT for this vibe.

[artbookisland]

Oh this is cool!

link

[venusfic]

I continue practicing digital on my cell phone, I have challenged myself to create something as complex (at least for me) as a motorcycle, and the beloved Goku. Thanks to Dragon Ball and the great Akira for inspiring me!

[cheesus-doodles]

An Unfortunately Timed Birthday

Yandere Koko

Masterlist

‎

Happy belated Birthday to Koko! missed the actual day of 1st April by a couple of days but truly, having a birthday then instead of the other 364 days of the year XD

truly sorry for the reposts yall, but this fic isn't appearing in the tags for reasons ;-;

"Come on, hop on!" You insisted as you patted the pillion seat of the motorcycle. “Let’s get started already!”

It was the first time Koko swore he had seen you on one, yet you already looked way too comfortable seated in the saddle of the overly-large bike where you had been waiting for him outside his house. Where did you get that? And without him knowing? Did you even have a license?

But those were questions that he decided to keep to himself for now; after all, he didn’t want to be a wet blanket on your very visible excitement. "I don't ride bikes," he mumbled, though the black-haired boy was quick to correct himself. "I mean, in general. Not just when you’re the one driving.” A pause, and silence as the tension churning in his gut. Fuck. The more he spoke, the more he was driving his foot further and further into his mouth. Maybe he should have just stopped at his first sentence.

Despite the day being especially cool, the usually oppressive afternoon sun tucked away behind clouds, though this was one of those days that the Black Dragon delinquent wished it was hot. At least you wouldn't be able to see the nervous sweat beading on his forehead. Fortunately for him, you looked merely confused at his words, cocking your head. “Then how will we get there?”

“Get where?”

“To the park, of course!” Your expression once more burst into smiles as you waved your hand about excitedly. “I have a whole day planned for us! We’re going to play baseball, and then we’ll go for a looonnnggg ride in the countryside before we eat ice cream for dinner!”

Koko couldn’t bite down the grimace growing over his face as you spoke despite his best efforts, the furrow of his eyebrows surely as clear to you as to him. Don’t get him wrong, there certainly was nothing better than spending time with you, but this growing list of his most hated activities - was this what you truly wanted to do? On his birthday? The boy shivered. Playing ball games, riding motorcycles and no food; absolutely not. But how should he play this without hurting your feelings? "Listen," he started carefully, sliding his hand into yours as those slit eyes ever so carefully watched your expression. “How bout we head out to a nice restaurant instead? Your favourite has space, we could take it easy and-”

“Koko!” You rebutted instantly, and his face fell. “I can’t let you treat me, it’s your birthday!”

“But-”

“Nope!”

He sighed, resigning himself to his fate. At the end of the day, he just couldn’t say no to you. “All right then.”

Yet just as he was about to climb onto the motorcycle, you suddenly burst into laughter, shoving the unsuspecting delinquent away before clambering off the bike yourself. “I’m kidding, Koko! April Fool’s!”

The realization hit said boy like a truck, and he let out a loud groan. So it was all a prank. Rolling his eyes, he couldn’t stop the long-suffering grin from pulling at his lips as you threw yourself at him, pulling him into a tight hug and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “The bike?”

“I borrowed it,” you hummed. “Not sure where Inupi got it from though.”

Ah. Inupi.

“So what’s the real plan?”

You pulled out a simply enormous picnic basket from its hiding spot, tucked neatly behind the trunk of a nearby tree. “I got your favourites all here. Let’s find somewhere cool.”

Such an unfortunately timed birthday indeed, Koko mused to himself as you tugged him down the street, leaving the motorcycle parked where it stood outside his house. But all this was worth if he could spend such a special day with you.