This is my art blog that's kinda been a long time coming. My main acc is @caspercapita, but this is basically that blog without other reblogs to make navigation either!
Typical DNI, no stealing or using my art for AI training etc. etc.
Art tag: #artpercapita
A little Scott doodle because I don't draw him enough asdfghjllk
Fanfic (with slight end of book 3 spoilers) below the cut hehe
If there was one thing that could be relied on at Board Game Club, it was Scottâs habitual lateness. To Azulâs knowledge, Scott had been on time no more than five times out of the many club meetings they had.
So, Scott wasnât there when Azul walked through the door. That was predictable, like clockwork.
But Scott was never⊠this late. It had already been fifteen minutes. Azul and Idia were already getting into another game of chess.
âOkay, this is, like, total noob behavior.â Idia scoffed a bit, but also looked at Azul, slightly confused. Typically, Azul was better at chess, so for Idia to be winning easily, something was up.
âNot that Iâm upset. Iâll take the W any day, heh.â
âYou-! Ugh. I simply have other things on my mind.â With that, Azul made a move, somewhat hastily after being taunted slightly by Idia.
âAre you just pressed that Scott isnât here to time us? Geez, sure is easy to throw you off your game.â
That made Azul pause.
âYou knew Scott wouldnât be here today?â
âUh, duh. What, you donât get texts from him? I legit have to mute him all the time. A double text fears him, not the other way around.â Idia laughed a bit, knowing he was getting under Azulâs skin. Yes, Scott texted him often, but it was all school and club stuff.
âI⊠donât believe I have his number, actually.â
âOh, FR? Get on that if youâre gonna be so lame when heâs not gonna show. Wait, is it my turn now?â
⊠The rest of the club meeting went well. For Idiaâs win streak, anyways.
Azul headed back to Octavinelle, in a worse mood than when he left. At the very least, he could go back to overseeing the Mostro Lounge. Revenue coming in always did make him feel better- ah.
There, sitting in the Octavinelle lounge, was Scott. He didnât seem quite as flippant and unbothered as Azul was used to seeing him, though, as a notebook was propped on his knee precariously, while he wrote quickly in a separate notebook on the table.
Scott was⊠studying?
âHm. While I would've been upset you skipped a club meeting, it seems your priorities are in order. For once.â Azul said, causing Scott to startle and drop the notebook on his knee.
âACK- ah, hi, Azul! Guess thatâs my cue to wrap up here, huh?â Before Azul could wonder why Scott said that, he had stood up, now successfully looming over Azul.
âHope you guys didnât miss me too much! Gotta lock in sometimes, though. Iâm set for the test, but itâs my turn to make Idia and I a study guide.â Oh, that was right, wasnât it? Azul had heard that third years had a somewhat monstrous test coming up. A few people had traded in their Mostro Lounge points for a consultation with Azul about it, actually.
With a nod, Azul responded. âI see. Well, I wish you luck. Though do let me know if you need any help, hm? Iâm happy to offer my services. At a price, of co-â
Suddenly, a squawk-like laugh burst from Scottâs lips. As if Azul was saying something absolutely ridiculous.
âWhat, do you think I need help? Like, genuinely?â Scottâs tone wasn't at all rude. It was just genuine confusion and amusement.
âWell, IâŠ!â Azul started, somewhat bewildered at the response. âI simply⊠I never see you study. And you certainly donât strike me as the academic type.â
âAw, Azully!â Before Azul could protest the nickname, Scott was scruffing up his hair in the way he absolutely was aware that Azul hated. âIâm insulted!â Despite what he was saying, Scott had a big smile on his face.
âI know you used to check the highest scores on exams, but you only ever looked for the names of your clients, right? Give last yearâs second year results a view and get back to me.â
While Azul was annoyed by Scottâs tone, especially since it was Azul who was the Housewarden and Azul who should have the advantage in these social situations, he could really only huff. If Scott wanted to mess with him and send him on a wild goose chase, fine.
(He would never actually check if this conversation happened with anyone else. But Scott didnât need to know that.)
âAlright, I suppose.â Then, Azul had an idea. âI am quite a busy man, though. It would be much easier to text you my findings than seek you out.â
Scott smiled down at him in a lazy, self-satisfied way that meant he saw right through Azul. He hated that expression. (And kind of liked it at the same time. But that was something to push very, very far down).
âOh, you want my number? Okay! No problem~â Scott quickly unlocked his phone, and showed Azul his number. It was somewhat hard to see through the cracks in Scottâs screen, but Azul managed to get it eventually.
âOkay, Azully. Let me know when you see anything you think is particularly interesting, 'kay? Awesome. Iâve gotta get something to eat, so Iâll see ya later.â
âRight. Iâll see you later.â Azul barely ended his sentence before Scott was walking away with his things.
As there were multiple people who received perfect scores every exam, it wasnât as though Scott was at the top of the score list. But with a last name starting with B, he was pretty high up.
Perfect. Scores. Great Seven, how had he ever managed that? Azul never saw Scott study, or do anything that wasnât related to his own interest.
But then again, perhaps Azul had been underestimating him. By a⊠considerable amount. Entertaining the idea that Scottâs laziness and flippant behavior hid someone with considerable intelligence did things to Azulâs heart that he seriously didnât want to unpack.
Shaking his head, Azul got his phone out to text his newest contact.
Azul: I see what you mean. I apologize for my earlier remark.
He got a response in mere moments, which startled him.
Scott: No prob, dude. Also, you text so serious! Super adorable tbh đ but no need for all that stuff hehe
Azul threw his previous thoughts about Scott out the window. He was still irritating. Honestly, whatever humor he got out of calling Azul cute was going straight over his head every time (assuming it was even a joke. Azul didnât know if he should even try considering the alternative).
More of my twst oc Chester hehe because I love him and I MISS SUMMERRRR
More details about this guy PLUS A FANFIC under the cut
He's twisted from Bucky from Emperor's New Groove, though he does act kinda different from that character lol. Being in Pomefiore means he (like Epel) is trying to seem cute/approachable, and he is genuinely pretty nice, but he also is naturally mischievous as fuck and Vil is trying his best to reign this disaster in somehow
And for the fanfic. Yes this is actually my yumeship sorry not sorry I love being cringe, it's Chester/Cater being sillies
Fic goes with the art I made lolz
âCâmon, please? Just this once?â Cater was begging, for what seemed to be the millionth time, to take a picture with Chester.
The answer was always the same: absolutely not. He didn't want to be on Cater's Magicam page, or even just on his phone, for one reason: he didn't look good in 99% of photos, and he knew it. And he didn't want Cater to see that, because⊠Well. It would be embarrassing, wouldn't it?
No need to look further at why he cared so much about how he looked to Cater. That was an emotional box to put to the side and ignore for a long time.
Chester especially didn't want Cater to take a picture of him now, of all times. His hair and tail were still drying from swimming, his nose and shoulder were definitely sunburnt, and he was sweating from the heat enough to worry about it showing up on camera.
But even still, Cater had been asking for a picture all day. Maybe, just this once, Chester could allow it. They were friends, right? Friends had bad pictures of each other. It would be fine.
âEven just a little selfie, that's all! Iâd-â
âYou can take a picture of me.â
â... Huh?â
Cater seemed, understandably, shocked that his begging had worked. Before Cater could get carried away, though, Chester added,
âJust one, though, so make it count. And you can't post it anywhere, got it?â
With a laugh, Cater agreed.
⊠. ăâș ă . ⊠. ăâș ă . âŠ
Another week, another episode of Queendom Bake Off that aired. On Friday nights, like clockwork, Chester got a pass to head over to Heartslabyul with his laptop. He, Cater, and Trey sat on one of the couches together, and Chester would put the show on.
While Trey was typically locked in on whatever the contestants were baking, Cater and Chester had more fun betting on who would win the week and who would go home, as well as parroting any word a contestant said in a weird way (Queendom of Roses accents were all over the place, honestly).
The next bake for the week was announced, and Cater and Chester immediately looked at each other in confusion. It was something neither of them had heard of, but looking over at Trey, he seemed to know exactly what it was.
âCater,â Chester whispered, careful not to let Trey hear him, âcan I borrow your phone to look up what that is? I'd ask Trey, but he'd talk for the rest of the show.â
âNo prob, here ya go.â Cater quietly handed his phone over, muttering the password as well.
Before Chester had a chance to get too flustered at being trusted with that information, something else caught his eye.
Beneath Caterâs mountain of notifications, his lockscreen was a bit familiar.
That was Chester.
Stifling a squeak, he dutifully continued looking up whatever it was the bakers were going to make, showed a picture to Cater, and handed his phone back. Though he was doing his best to remain casual, he was absolutely certain his face was bright red.
âSo, uh.â Chester whispered again, getting Cater's attention. âWhy am I your lockscreen?â
Cater seemed a bit startled by the question, face growing a bit redder.
âOh! Well, uhm. It's one of those rotating lock screens? Lots of pics of my friends on there. Cute, right?â
âUh, yeah. Yes. Very cute.â
They watched the rest of the episode in silence for the most part, but it wasn't too terribly awkward, so Chester didn't mind. Eventually, he headed with his laptop back to Pomefiore, leaving Trey and Cater on the couch.
âA rotating lock screen, huh?â Trey asked, after he was certain Chester was gone.
âShut up, Trey. I'm so cooked.â
âI think he bought it, at least.â
âIt's a picture of him! Edited to have cute stickers on it! He can't possibly be that oblivious.â