#Why do I have to add this second expression!? ITS SO PRECIOUS!!

[sylveonkawaii289]

For my first 2025 art, I did some very cute expressions of my sona.

as a bonus, I added a Helluva Boss reference on that. LOL!

[greenrow]

Kiss it better

Lance and Keith are officially a couple and everything should be great! ... So why are the thoughts in Lance's head so loud?

Notes: let it be known that this is a birthday present and an adaptation for @herodzn

This comic

Also read on ao3 here

Lying on his back, Lance looked at the ceiling. Its white color blinding him slightly. He closed his eyes. Hearing how Keith shuffled nearby. Opening his eyes just enough, Lance observed Keith’s movements. He placed his guitar against the wall. Unlike Keith’s warm toned walls, Lance’s were cool toned and bare, disregarding a few posters hung haphazardly next to his table. Shedding off his jacket, Keith threw it onto the bed, its leather fabric crinkling and looking strangely blended with Lance’s blue bed sheets. And, finally, he sat on the foot of the bed, sliding down so that he could sit on the floor. With his legs pulled comfortably to his chest, he saw how Keith started to look around his room. He couldn’t help but laugh. He had been to his room countless of times. They have hang out in this room more times than he can count.

Closing his eyes again, Lance relaxed onto the pillow under his head and onto the bean bag he had claimed after they arrived from their work project.

He tried to enjoy the quietness that surrounded them. Peaceful. Their week had been quite chaotic with all the assignments they had and with the hangout sessions they had with everyone else. Loving. He couldn’t really add anything else to it. Being with Keith was just lovely. Like a pleasant dream he didn’t want to wake up from. His mind started to wonder. If being with Keith felt like this, then wouldn’t that mean that their perceived feeling were also a fantasy? Wouldn’t Keith grow bored of being in this dream with him? Wouldn’t he get annoyed at him?

Before he could stop himself, Lance called out to Keith.

“Hey, Keith?”

He hesitated for a second. Taking a shallow breath.

In and out.

“You like me right?”

Even without looking, he could picture Keith’s expression. Bewildered. Confused. Maybe even hurt.

“What-”, Keith tried to question. What a weird question to ask.

Lance interrupted him, almost stumbling over himself.

“Like…”

Deep breaths. Lance repeated in his mind.

He opened his eyes. Deep breaths.

In and out.

“Do you have feelings for me?”

In and out.

Keith stared at him, his expression completely blank. Well, maybe not completely blank. He could see how his eyebrows raised. Confused. Where had this come from? In a very matter of fact tone, he called out his name.

“Lance…”

Lance wanted to die. How could his name sound so precious coming from Keith’s mouth?

“We’re dating.”

No hesitation. They were in fact dating.

“Of course, I do?”

A question.

Lance closed his eyes. Keith’s eyes on him felt almost painful. He couldn’t look back. Not now.

“Right, right… I guess I-”

Deep breaths.

In and out.

Curling into himself, Lance puts some distance between them.

“I… get scared you might reevaluate those feelings…”

His voice became quiet, almost trembling. He hated how he sounded. Why did he have to bring this up now? He opened his eyes catching a glimpse of Keith’s face. He looked concerned. Sad. Lance averted his eyes.

In and out.

“Why would I?” Keith leaned forward, breaching the security distance he had put between them. Flinching when he felt Keith put a gentle hand on his knee. A loving encouragement to bring the truth out of him. With only a few movements, he was able to pull the words that formed a knot in his throat. Still looking away, Lance swallowed dryly.

“Y’know I can be a lot sometimes…”

Deep breaths.

In and out.

He took a sneak glance at Keith. He had furrowed eyebrows, clearly taken aback. Lance didn’t like that look on his face, much less being the reason behind it. He looked away once again.

“You’re not a lot, Lance.”

Keith did not hesitate. He sounded so sure, like this was the most obvious truth to ever exist. And, maybe, just maybe, it really was. Lance could hear the soft smile on his voice.

At times like these, Lance remembered how Keith used to be. Such a hotheaded guy. One that didn’t spare a single glance or thought to those around him, especially if Shiro was there. He remembered how they used to clash. Always fighting, bickering. God, he used to find Keith so insufferable back then. If it hadn’t been for Pidge, Hank and Shiro’s persistence, and for professor Coran’s insistence in them working together every single time there were group projects (which were most of the time, mind you), Lance didn’t believe they would become such good friends. The perfect partners in crime. Let alone dating.

Keith shifted, now closer. With his personal space starting to be intruded, Lance’s breath hitched, surprised. Still refusing to look at his boyfriend, he kept himself closed off, arms hugging his torso. He was trying to hide. If he was as still as possible, as small as possible, Keith might back off. *Might leave*. Oh. He didn’t want that. Never *that*.

Deep breaths, Lance. Deep breaths.

In and out.

In and out.

In and—

He felt a gentle touch on his cheek. Lance had to fight, really hard, to not just melt into the touch. Keith always did this. Touch him so softly. So preciously. He wanted to cry. Tenderly, Keith turned his face towards him. Eyes drinking every feature on his face, Keith smiled.

Was Keith always this pretty? His faced felt warmer. Yes. Yes, he was.

“I love you for you.”

Keith whispered. Like it was a secret, the most cherished one.

Lance definitely wanted to cry now.

“I uh…Pssh—” Lance looked all around his room. His bed as a good place, for now. “You- I uh…” He retreated more into himself. Shyly turning his head in a different direction making sure to still be within Keith’s warmed hand. “I mean, really?”

A beat passed. Then another. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Lance looked back at Keith.

Oh, so that’s why.

Keith was just staring at him. Lovingly so, he’d like to add. Lance stared back. He allowed himself to finally melt into Keith’s hand. He leaned forward when he felt how Keith pulled him in. Still giving him a chance to back away if he so wished. He didn’t.

They kissed. They talked in a way words could never. Words they never found. And so, they kissed.

And for now, all of Lance’s insecurities felt insignificant. Fell quiet.

It was just him and Keith.

And because of that, he was ok.

He breathed him in.

In and out.

He was happy. Safe. Loved.

[katyspersonal]

If you defeat Messmer the hornsent will say that the snake emerging from him is a "sublime scene" or something similar i wonder is the snake is something that has been considered as holy/ divine by the hornsent. + What is the deal with abyss serpent? Marika was so afraid of it she banished her son for it, i know gameplay doesn't necessarily equal lore but the Abyssal serpent doesn't seem to be that dangerous

;-; This is like the third time I forget to answer an ask and only remember about it when I get a similar one I am so sorry dhfhsd

As for the Vengeance-Seeking Hornsent, I think it was either a sarcasm or expression of satisfaction to see how monstrous Messmer was with his own eyes, given the place of that line in the full dialogue:

That being said, it doesn't exclude seeing the Base Serpent as divine either! It could always be sort of both, a bit like how Fell God is both revered and feared/dreaded!

I actually touched upon the 'Abyss' and Base Serpent in my post diving into what happened with Romina recently ( x ), so for the starters I'll copy a small bit from it to prevent the confusion! Ymir states that Marika's roots are 'in madness' and flowers on the painting of Midra's Manse in its past are the same as in Shaman's Village, but just in case the 'abysses' are not the same:

I need to add that Abyss of the serpent plaguing Messmer and Abyss of the woods tormented by Frenzy are different things though; whereas serpent’s Abyss is 深淵 meaning literally an abyss, Woods’ Abyss is 奈落 that means Naraka (Hindu Hell)! His serpent is AKTUALY named Base Serpent, but he refers the 'Abyss’ in his Stage 2 transition: '光無き、深淵の蛇が’. ( x ) In fact, his dialogue in both English and Japanese original suggests the 'Abyss’ is a PLACE, where Base Serpent comes from! The mysterious space without light!

So, the Abyss is the place without light, the 'hole' within what Greater Will entails and embraces:

@val-of-the-north also says that it further proves that Frenzied Flame is basically a "sibling" or the second side of the same coin, as its "face" likewise has a black hole at the centre!

Elden Ring itself is light, the blue stars controlling humans and the amber stars controlling Demigods are light, Erdtree and the greater tree predating it are light... Light is the essence of life and the orders, not even just the Golden Order however it has been THE order for a while! Messmer and Queelign repeat that all "lightless" should burn in his flames, and they are doing it for the sake of Marika's beliefs. So, the 'lightless' part of the issue is very important! It is fearsome as something they cannot fully control, it is antithesis for life the way they know it and they are used to! At the same time, no longer seeing the light is something grace-given lifeforms fear (Iris of Occultation)!

However, another, and arguably more important aspect of why Base Serpent is something feared, is Marika's fear of fire! For one, she went at war with the Fire Giants because they might have burnt her precious Erdtree, and she'd lost everything again:

(+ Also worth to note that the Fire Monks that peer into flame and go 'hmmm actually..... 👀' and get blinded discover the Bloodstar, and Alberich who did the same by blinding self is "heretical" sorcerer! That's why I think Lightless Abyss is not empty but various horrors live in it, and Formless Mother appeared from it too! Again, not the point of this post as I already talked about it in Romina post I linked earlier)

Another precedent was burying the Nomads because Shabriri said that they were worshipping Frenzied Flame:

(From the video that recovers Kale's quest ( x ))

There is also this:

I assume the prophesy has to come from the Hornsent in some capacity! Like maybe when the Two Fingers gave her aid to ascend to Godhood, she already knew from the Greater Will (?) that she won't rule forever! Ranni and Miquella both refer to the ages they want as 'thousand years voyage', so perhaps any era being set on the timer is a common sentiment! The Age of the Erdtree logically must end with the Erdtree being burnt, of course, and there is Empyrean Grandam who is a Hornsent..

I am yet not sure whether Melina is Gloam-Eyed Queen "killed" and reborn, making her instead an adopted daughter to keep her fire under control or she is a real daughter but stripped from her true power and body because of the fear of fire or both! I just think that back then, looooong before Marika could've predicted the thorns created by Radagon needed to be burnt, Melina being so "downgraded" for someone who is her daughter also had to do with the fire!

Messmer getting discarded is just an extension of it. Or her not willing to deal with the fear of the Erdtree getting potentially burnt because of the Base Serpent's fire!

As for whether it is an "evil" power? I likewise don't believe so! Fromsoft always makes 'eldrich' Gods either powers of nature or just creatures far from humans' concepts that just vibe! It is Gods who are basically just humans with too much power who can be evil and cause havoc, like Gwyn and his family and Marika and her family! Base Serpent is not "evil", it is a force of nature; necessary inferno to burn the nature, so it doesn't rot and later can be born anew from the ruins! INRI means 'Iesvs Nazarenvs Rex Ivdæorvm', but it also has an occult interpretation: 'Ignis Natura Renovatur Integram' ('All nature is regenerated by fire')! I believe Messmer has to be not only Marika's firstborn but also have special position compared to other Demigods, because he is "necessary" evil. A "promised" end to Marika's reign, who maybe is not even cursed but rather hard-coded to be this way by the Greater Will itself.. because Base Serpent comes from the Abyss inside it, Fell God on the other hand is not connected with serpentine stuff! When Messmer gets rid of Marika's eye, he promises oblivion that you and him will fall into, which again refers to the lightless Abyss.

The only evidence to Base Serpent being dangerous is that it has to be kept in check by the Winged Serpent:

It is not inherently evil, but it IS chaotic! It would not know when or where to stop or how to take the pace, much like the element of fire itself who simply burns whatever it meets on the way! And yet again, how "evil" can a force of nature be? It is "evil" for those who don't want to burn, but that's it and it is not a moral value but a (reasonable) fear! Burning things needs to be smart and balanced, or else it will just be 'Frenzied Flame at home'!

_____________________

Anyways thank you for asking so much!! I love discussing this particular topic a lot actually! +I assume Eiglay is a similar kind of serpent, but specifically promised death of Gods (maybe Outer Gods specifically, even) rather than Demigods and various things mortals built and birthed! Maybe she is even a sister of Base Serpent of sorts

[meguwumibear]

small writing warm up: also a continuation of this

You do make it out of the narrow alleyway, one hair-raising, ear-splitting scratch and scrape at a time.

The man you’ve accidentally abducted seems amused by your actions. Though he’d chided you for them earlier, he failed to produce an alternative solution to dislodge the car. The damage to the driver’s side door is extensive, but judging by the man’s clothing and accessories, he can afford to replace it.

You shimmy your way out of the car, planning to disappear among the throng of people that have gathered around to shop and eat and chat and fuck. This street is always packed with people this time of night. It’s why you chose it. There’s nothing you like more than a crowd large enough to be anonymous in.

What you don’t expect is the mysterious man to follow you out of the vehicle. He doesn’t say anything at first, so you assume the two of you are just coincidentally heading the same way, however after a few blocks it becomes obvious he’s tailing you.

You bring yourself to a stop, turning to face him.

“We traveling companions now or something?” you demand.

He blinks at you, a frown tugging at his bottom lip, “I don’t know where I am or how to get home.”

And that, that simply cannot be true. The dude looks like he’s pushing thirty. Where are his street smarts? His common sense? His survival instinct?

“Not my problem. Use your GPS. Subway station’s that way,” you add, gesturing vaguely to your right.

“I don’t have one,” he says plainly. “Didn’t think I’d need it.”

You let out an exacerbated sigh and jam your fingers into your temples to stave off an impending migraine.

“I know you have a phone on you. Your goons called you like five minutes ago. There should be an app on the phone you can use as a map.”

“It’s a burner. Its only function is to send and receive calls.”

Of fucking course.

“There’s like a million street signs. Pick one and send them your address. I’m sure your white knights will be here to rescue you in no time, princess.”

The man properly pouts now, an expression unbecoming of his stature. His dopey eyes and puckering lips make him look like a kicked fucking dog. A pretty kicked dog. Like a purebred or some shit, but a kicked dog all the same.

“I don’t like to be called that,” he deadpans, “and, anyway, they can’t come get me. You stole their car.”

This dude’s as thick as they get.

“You look like you come from a family full of lush cars that sit idling in a garage somewhere. I’m sure daddy dearest can spare a second car to rescue his precious son.”

He cocks his head to the side, considering you. “You’d really leave me here? Alone? It’s your fault I’m stranded in the first place. The least you could do is see I get home safely. If you’re worried about your own, you have my word no harm will come to you.”

“Look, dude, this has been fun and all, but I’m confident you can take care of yourself so drop the wounded animal act. Of the two of us only one is packing a-”

A cool, smooth hand slaps itself over your mouth while the man uses his body weight to push your back flush against the grimy brick wall of the ramen shop you’ve stopped outside of. Your biting words die easily in your mouth as your throat dries up.

When the man speaks, it’s as calm as ever, despite his outburst, “I’d appreciate if you could keep that bit of knowledge between the two of us. Tools like that aren’t exactly legal and I’d hate to have to use it.”

Unable to form words, you nod at him, hoping he understands what the movement is meant to convey. You figure you’ve got a 50/50 shot of him interpreting the motion accurately given his communication track record thus far.

A sharp, piercing gaze holds your own for a moment longer, then his hand falls away.

“I live in Musutafu. I’m not sure how far that is from here. You seem familiar with the subway system. Lead the way.”

You suck down a steadying deep breath. There’s a part of you that’s frightened of this dangerous stranger you’ve managed to saddle yourself with. You mostly just feel pissed. You consider your options, remembering an old platitude your mother used to sigh whenever you were in a rage: better to be pissed off that pissed on.

“Hope you’ve got cash,” you acquiesce. ��I’m not shelling out for your subway fare.” 

[hyunnieshannie]

Let Me Use You

🖤: Felix x Taeyong 🖊️: 1,470 🚨: strong language, just porn, plot if you squint. A/N: This is not something we usually write but are starting to venture into, please let us know what you think! Tag list, please let us know if you would like to continue being tagged in work like this, if not we will open a seperate tag list for these kinds of fics!! Thank you <3

Prompt: The Masculine urge to ride a guy until he's begging me to stop because it's too much for him, softly kissing his face to shush him because I'm not finished using him yet

“CUT! Good job guys, we'll use this last take.”

Taeyong and Felix both bowed to the media intern after they finished recording their S-Class and Bounce challenges for TikTok. Felix eyed Taeyong up and down, admiring the tattoos that peeked out from underneath his clothing.

He noticed while recording the challenge that Tae’s shirt shifted ever so slightly, giving him a slight glimpse of his nipple - so pink, so small, so tease-able. Felix couldn’t help but drool at the desire that was building inside of his pants him.

“Hey, good job during the filming, you looked great!” Felix complimented Taeyong, a blush quickly creeping across the other's face.

“Ah, thank you. You did too. Looked great, I mean- you did a good job. I mean you looked great too- obviously. But uh, yeah.” Taeyong nervously responded, stuttering over his words as he rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to hide his face with the brim of his hat. The smirk that adorned Felix’s face only deepened upon hearing his response.

“I wanted to give you my number, for personal matters,” Felix spoke calmly and softly, not wanting the staff around them to hear him.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’d really, really like that,” Taeyong whispered back as he handed Felix his phone. 

The younger entered his phone number into the phone, sending himself a quick text to easily add the new contact to his own. 

Felix’s greed is rearing its head, he wants a quickie so badly and Taeyong is giving him all the signs that he’s interested. Might as well test the waters.

“So, are you in your own dressing room?” Felix asks quietly, whispering the question directly into Taeyongs ear, noting how the older shivers slightly as the breath fans over his skin.

“Y-yes, I am,” Taeyong stutters again, his blush too dark to hide from Felix. Felix smirks and leans in closer to him.

“How about you and I have a little alone time, hmm?” Felix asks in his deep voice, the shiver that runs down Taeyong’s spine must’ve been noticeable to everyone else who may have been watching the two interact. “Why don’t you show me what this dressing room looks like?” It took Taeyong a moment to fully understand what the younger one was saying, looking at him with a confused expression for a split second, before his face began to heat up with a noticeable blush. 

“Yes, yes. O-of course. Follow me.” Taeyong brings the brim of his hat further down his face, attempting to hide his blush from everyone around them. Felix tells his manager that he’ll be heading to Taeyong’s dressing room to catch up and chat and to leave the two of them alone, reluctantly his manager agrees, letting him know when he’d need to be back on stage, before leaving with the rest of Felix’s group to their fitting rooms.

Once they reach the room, Taeyong asks his staff to leave so the two of them could have some privacy. This isn’t an unheard of event, many idols will request this when they want to speak openly and freely with their friends. So thankfully, the staff are none the wiser about what Felix is planning to do with their precious idol. 

The last staff member leaves the room and Taeyong closes and locks the door behind them. Finally leaving the two of them alone. Felix slowly makes his way over to Taeyong, pulling at his wrist and bringing him to sit next to him on the couch in the back corner of the room. Taeyong’s heart is beating crazily. He feels like his heart is in his throat and his dick is throbbing painfully at the pure imagination of what Felix is about to do with him.

Felix begins peppering soft kisses across Taeyong’s neck, the light flutter of his lips against Taeyong’s skin immediately making him thrust his hips upward for some contact. Taeyong moans as Felix sucks lightly at the skin previously covered by his shirt. Felix pulls away from Taeyong and lifts the older’s shirt up and over his head quickly diving back in and latching his lips to one of Tae’s nipples. 

“Ah-ahh, fuck,” Taeyong moans breathily, being careful not to thread his fingers in Felix’s hair to ruin the stylist's work. Instead, he opts to grab Felix’s forearm and squeeze it harshly. Felix continues to suck on Tae’s skin, loving the moans and breathy whines that leave the older one's lips. “Ahhh, mmmph. Felix, p-please.”

Felix smirks and lifts himself from Tae’s abused chest. He leans in and plants a delicate kiss on Taeyong’s lips, stopping the breathy moan from escaping into the empty room. “Shhh, baby I’m not done with you yet.”

“B-but, the live. The winners- AH- the winners will be announced.” Taeyong tries to explain while Felix has latched his lips back to Taeyong’s nipples, biting and sucking the skin harshly. “F-Felix, we only have- mmm- 10 min-minutes.” 

“That’s ok, I can work with that. Besides, I haven’t finished using you yet.” Felix smirks at the older as he places another gentle kiss on his lips. Felix is quick to remove his and Taeyong’s pants, just enough to get the job done. 

Felix lines Taeyong’s cock up to his waiting hole and slowly sinks down. 

“AHH! Felix, you’re so- ahh- so tight.” Taeyong moans as he places his hands on Felix’s waist. Felix moves up and down on Tae’s length, ripping sinful moans from the older’s throat. 

“Fuck, you sound so good, moaning for me, for my hole.” Felix teases. “Have you been thinking about this for a long time?” 

“Fuck, fuck yes. Fucking- fuck yes. Wanted this. Want you, please Yongbokie, please,” Taeyong whines as he bucks his hips up to meet Felix’s downward pulses.

Felix wishes that he could mark Taeyong up, but considering they’re in public and about to go live, that is going to have to wait for another time. Oh, that sounds good. Another time. Felix feels excited all over again thinking about the possibility of more. Felix picks up his pace, riding himself on Taeyong’s length in aggressively deep but quick movements.

“Fuck, feel so good, so deep,” Felix smiles down at Taeyong, admiring the fucked-out look on the older’s face. The grip Taeyong has on Felix’s hips tightens at the praise.

“You feel so good, Yongbokah, so good. Not gonna- nnah- not gonna last, please. Please Yongbokie, please,” Taeyong begs as he leans his head back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“You can wait-” Felix pants, 

“Nnhh, can-can’t Yongbok, you f-feel so good.”

“I’m almost there, just wait for a little- AH!- longer,” Felix moans at a particularly harsh thrust up from Taeyong. Felix picks up his pace again, the movements not as strong or harsh as before but the pace making the stretch delicious. Felix reaches down and begins to toy with Taeyong’s forgotten nipples.

“AHHH!” Taeyong yelps at the contact, his dick twitching within Felix’s velvet walls.

“Oh there you go, keep doing that,” Felix praises once again.

Taeyong begins to meet Felix’s downward movements with harsh upward thrusts, hands wrapping around Felix’s hips in a bruising grip.

“I-I’m not gonna, not gonna last,” Taeyong moans as he pulls Felix’s body down and closer to his own, smelling the hairspray within Felix’s blue locs.

“It’s ok, you can cum baby,” Felix whispers darkly into Taeyong’s ear. The words and the deep tone that Felix spoke in was enough to send Taeyong over the edge. 

“Fffffuck, ah! Felix, nnnnff!” Taeyong moans into Felix’s neck, revelling in the immense pleasure that washes over his skin. He thrusts harshly, releasing into Felix’s tight hole. 

“Ahhhhh, fuck,” Felix whines in a high-pitched tone, throwing his head back at feeling so full. “Fuck, Yongie, fuck.” Felix rolls his hips and guides Taeyong’s hand to Felix’s hard leaking cock that’s been sitting untouched between the two of them. “Touch me,” Felix demands. Taeyong is quick to accept the order and wraps his hand around Felix’s cock and pumps the length in time with Felix’s movements. Felix’s voice goes up in octave at his impending orgasm. “Ah, AH, AHHH!” Felix yells as he releases his load into Taeyong’s hand, slowing his movements to a stop on top of Taeyong.

There’s a knock at the door that pulls the idols out of their post-orgasm haze. 

“Live in 2 minutes, Felix needs to head back to his group,” someone yells from beyond the door.

Felix quickly gets up from Taeyong’s lap and pulls his pants back into place before heading towards the door.

“This was fun. Call me to let me use you again?” Felix asks as he watches Taeyong slowly get up and fix his own clothing.

“Anytime.” Taeyong responds with a small smile on his lips.

TAGS: @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup @lieghscloud @foxinnie8 @scarletbedlam @kpoppin-to-the-beat @stay-berry @bbymatz @kurxxmi

[tddyhyck]

*cartwheels into ur askbox* BLUEEEEEE HOW ARE UUUUU!!!!!

clearly u are talking to urself because u (🫵 YOU!!!) are precious.

u are so right, every song is beautiful and has a different vibe. i didn’t expect to like smoothie in its entirety at first, i liked the vocal parts but the smoothie, smoothie, smoothie chanting in the chorus was unexpected and i was NOT put on this planet to maintain eye contact with lee jeno (or anyone actually…) while he looks into the camera and i was CERTAINLY NOT put on this planet to have na jaemin talk in my ear jkhksjsa but it grew on me afterwards. i cried when i listened to icantfeelanything and unknown on 2 separate nights so maybe i’ll pick those 2 for my favourites… i rlly liked breathing too, but unknown kinda wiped my mind clean. how about u?? i’m not even talking about the performances because they’re *insane*. i just think jaemin would look nice leaning over someone on a table u know… 😞 i remember being so lost when i first saw him holding a sword like jaemin honey why do u have a sword in a song with fruits. then i saw him fighting the fruits and suddenly it all made sense 🙇 (can i just say i found the bubbling sound at the start of second verse so weird on the first listen, before it grew on me? it’s such a funny lil sound, it adds so much character to the song 🫶)

what u said abt jeno is so sweet i will simply cry till the end of time. “he’s very yes to me” such a valid assessment.

ajhdehjgajha ok well u see i don’t remember much about the day… just that i was living life and suddenly had renjun on the mind. specifically dom renjun staring someone down when they’re bratting, and i had a moment like oh, that’s a Thought. (i’m not even much of a brat, where did that come from?) coupled with dumbification 😅 n u’re right the purple looks so pretty on him!!!

all these renjun thoughts of urs ended all of MY thoughts ever. i am WEAK. please always keep getting carried away because i don’t know how to tell u how much i liked everything u said here omfg. (i might take another 100 words to express my feelings and that would be such a shame…) i think i recently stumbled across something to do with rope play (the past couple days have been tiring and i can’t remember much of anything) nd omgg i was gonna bring it up with u cus,, u know how they sometimes tie it in a way that there’s a knot right over,,, anyway 😵‍💫 so glad to see that u mentioned rope here because now i’m going to Think. hah, time to stop thinking.

panty stuffing is that one insane guilty pleasure that i never see enough of and i’m ALWAYS blindsided whenever it comes up anywhere. (is it cursed if i’m thinking of that with our precious kink because of which we started talking…? i promise i don’t have a one track mind 🫶)

gah, how many times do i tell u, U’RE THE SWEET ONE 😭🥺💞🥳 i’m glad u’ve been good 🥰 small font because i didn’t want to clog up ur (or anyone else’s) screen, let me know if u’d rather it stay big haha. i always talk too much but i don’t quite wish to stop 😔 (unless of course u ask me to 😂❤️) sending u another ask wait—

~🪄

OMG did u see the recording video for smoothie 😵‍💫😵‍💫 jaemin all up in my ear and i’m okay with it 🤭 all the songs are so good i can’t stop listening i have unknown and icantfeelanything on my heavy rotation playlist they’re TOO GOOD (chefs kiss) LMFAO jaemin needs to lean over you at the table just saying ¯\_(ツ)_/ jaemin is our fruity fighter protecting us all and making us get our vitamins

renjun + dumbification oh i am SO here for that,, that would change my mind real quick,,, i feel like he would be so good at that too like just fucking you into oblivion,, no thoughts head empty and he’s just taunting and teasing the entire time like “are you sure you can take it?” “you were begging for this earlier” 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

i think renjun is def tying ropes over ur cunt like sry he is ,,, i think he would tie it like idk how to explain this but two pieces on your cunt and then tie the ropes so your legs are spread,,, and he’d talk about how pretty the ropes look against your skin but he can’t wait to see the pattern afterwards 😵‍💫😵‍💫

i think panty stuffing should be the norm i don’t make the rules but i will enforce them 🤭🤭 ALSO AGREE

omg you changed the font size how do u even do that LOL i’m good either way and ALWAYS chat with me i love it 🤭🤭

[cavehags]

bear w/ me bc i have been defending my choice to watch s1 to ppl all day and like…. i think the characters felt like people? like ted yelled at people (nate & jamie) everything was a clusterfuck and it felt… real? and now maybe two characters feel like real people, the rest are NPCs with weird dialogue. we have “main characters” and i couldn’t tell you what any of their storylines were at this point. what is ted even doing. everything is unmoored in a bad way

totally - i think s1 was really well constructed and mature and, as you said, invested in developing its characters as flawed and complicated people who are struggling to express and communicate and find support. roy and rebecca's arcs were fantastic in season one and it's sad to discover that those were the best their arcs are going to get... s1 roy was this genuinely tragic figure, a career athlete facing the end of his life as he's always known it and very nearly suicidally depressed over the thought of it coming to an end. opening his heart to keeley and to ted's coaching philosophy is the first time he's dared to crack himself open in a very, very long time. and s1 rebecca was so magnetic and fascinating, newly divorced and bitter as hell about the wasted years, trying to define herself by how she'll get revenge on her ex without realizing what a wonderful opportunity she has to add new connections and challenges to her life. those are good fucking stories! dark and heavy with the promise of hope. then add to that how pleasantly surprised i was by keeley and rebecca's friendship, how they help each other out by sharing the wisdom of their respective generations. and, yes, the foil relationship between roy and jamie felt fresh and exciting. i loved how the show wasn't precious with its characters - it let them fuck up - and it balanced comedy and drama well in those blissfully short episodes. using sports as the easiest metaphor in the world for success and failure, it got to the heart of these characters without ever feeling like it was trying to do too much.

unfortunately, since the second half of s2, it seems to me it's really been struggling to keep the focus on those small and personal stories. this season is worst of all because you can just tell the scripts are burdened by the pressure the writers are under to meet expectations for the conclusion now that the show is a monster hit. expanding the cast and allowing episodes to bloat to an hour just gets the show further away from those tight, intimate stories. and with the more scattered focus, the characters are becoming less themselves. roy has had zero arc this season and his reasons for his breakup with keeley - the most important thing to happen to him in two seasons - have only ever been implied. the lines that are coming out of his mouth are getting more and more shock-value disturbing, and while i think everyone has always enjoyed roy's violence, that was because its impact was tempered by how kind he was, too - he was a teddy bear with a gruff voice. this season, it feels like we haven't seen him do much but threaten to break into people's homes and beat them with a rope. i miss my guy :( and same goes for rebecca, whose fixation on this psychic feels like borderline bimbofication. why are we not advancing a meaningful story for her organically? why do we have to teach her a lesson about believing in fantasy? does it have to involve the promise of a husband and a baby? for a million reasons, i feel like the show has totally lost its way, and maybe these next four episodes will make me feel better about it but for now i miss the simple good writing of season one. fucking rip :(

[milkymora]

left ✧ tsukishima kei x fem!reader ✧ pt 1

summary: y/n and tsukki are childhood friends, who unfortunately happen to not get along much anymore.

tw: angst?

tsukishima and you met at a young age. his parents were old high school classmates of your own parents, that happened to grow up together and eventually become good friends during adulthood. that’s why, one day, out of shared agreement, they decided to make you kids get to know each other.

you remember very well the day you met that blonde kid. it was a sunny summer noon, you were bored, sitting in front of the tv, switching channels in search of something to peak your interest, when the doorbell rang loudly, shaking your thoughts out of your mind.

you walked out of the living room, approaching the door, unaware and curious as to who might be at such unusual hour. when you opened the entrance, your eyes were met by a boy you’ve never seen around your neighborhood. the first thing you noticed was his height, way taller than an average kid you’d see in your school. you had to lift your chin of a couple inches to be able to meet his gaze, who was looking back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“who are you?” you asked, opening the door further to be able to take a better look at the person you were talking to. he took a couple seconds to reply, scrutinizing you just like you were doing with him a moment ago. “kei tsukishima.” he then replied, dry, to eventually add “are your parents home?” gripping the ends of his purple oversized hoodie, seemingly uneasy.

you wondered why he looked like he wasn’t expecting to find a girl his age at the door, and why he knew your parents. however, instead of voicing your thoughts, you answered “no, why?” to which he shrugged, “my parents and i just moved back here. they asked me to come here and ask about your parents.” as dry as before, he replied.

“‘back here’? you lived here before?” you found yourself questioning him, curiosity starting to tickle you, “how do your parents know mine?” you added right after.

he broke eye contact with you, tigheting the grip on his hoodie and shifting his gaze to the tip of his shoes. he didn’t really seem to be the eloquent type, to say the least. “yeah. and... they were friends, i guess.” his tone lowered, too. he nervously fidgeted with one of the hoodie’s string, before clearing his throat and adding “uhm, i’ll come back tomorrow. when your parents will be home. see you.”

you felt disappointed, you didn’t want the conversation to be over so soon, but you weren’t even given the time to process a thought that he turned around and walked out of your property in the blink of an eye. you found yourself staring at the corner he took before disappearing out of sight, your head empty. after a few minutes, you closed the door, murmuring to yourself “...weirdo”.

the school bell rang, a bunch of students heading out the gate, each their way, you among them. classes were finally over.

you shuffled the items in your bag, seeking for your earbuds, holding your cellphone on the other hand. when you found the interested object, you plugged the earbuds in your phone and began listening to music to accompany your solitary walk. your stress level has reached its peak today.

during the latest weeks, your emotions have been subject of an incredible and undeserved rollercoaster that left you biting your nails until bleeding, sleeping terribly and, overall, taking very bad care of you. calling yourself tired was an euphemism.

you were exhausted. school was punching your stomach with exam sessions, making you spend your evenings studying for over 3 hours in a row, sometimes having to get up as early as 4 AM to be able to study more on the topics you felt insecure about, depriving you of precious sleep, that leaded to you almost fall asleep on lessons and lunch breaks. you barely had time to shower and eat.

that lifestyle was starting to really heavy on you.

but the biggest issue was kei. your childhood “friend”.

that guy has always been mean, you were used to it, but lately he sure gave his best to become an insufferable asshole. being elected as class president must’ve got to his head, you had no other explanation to excuse that behavior.

actually, quite frankly, you were tired of excusing his behavior too.

last week he decided that throwing shit at a random student he never spoke to was okay just because said student had the known reputation of taking bad grade after bad grade, and was repeating the year for the second time. he didn’t know anything about that person, yet kei chose to pick on him for the sake of making him feel like a nobody whose worth was based off of how well he was perceived by the teachers.

which was absolutely gross. that middle school bully-wanna-be attitude had killed the remaining sympathy you had for him. you found yourself despising him a little bit more everyday, his repetitive jokes, his scornful laughter, his arrogant smile, his voice... everything about him had rotten into this mass of frustration that pushed him in the “people to avoid” category.

and that’s exactly what you begun to do. it’s been a week circa, you have been slipping out of conversations, leaving classes as soon as they end not to talk to him and walk on the way back home alone, hoping not to meet him there.

you had some luck, considering you guys live next to each other and have to take the same path to get back home. you haven’t met him yet once.

perhaps he was following you, but you didn’t dare to turn around and take a look. you just walked faster and kept your earbuds blasting music with a perhaps too high volume. childish maybe, but it worked, so.

just when you were about to open your house’ gate, you felt two fingers tapping on your shoulder. your face turned around on a reflex, finding behind you that insufferable, mean, asshole.

“oh.” left your lips, before taking a step back to add distance between you two. apparently, he wasn’t expecting such reaction, because you saw his eyebrows jump slightly and his expression turned immediately in a frowned one. “wow, it’s nice seeing you as well, thank you.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, almost feeling guilty. “it’s just i wasn’t expecting you to come here. what’s the matter?” you had to hold yourself back from saying your usual sorries, you had the poor habit of apologizing even when you didn’t mean to. it was one of the many things tsukki used to make fun of you for.

“i wanted to talk to you. may i come in?” he asked, moving his hands into the pockets of his school uniform.

you took your time to answer him, busy wondering if you heard him correctly. that was unusually polite of him, he never spoke to you that way, he only talked like that to teachers and people older than him, surely not mere mortal students like him.

a bit taken aback, you nodded, wary, and opened the gate until reaching inside.

you opened the door, him behind you, and entered the empty living room. there was an awkward silence weighting in the air, nobody spoke a word, all you could think about was that he hasn’t been at your house in weeks.

he took a seat on the big, grey couch, eyes lingering on your figure subtly. he probably thought you wouldn’t feel his gaze on you, since he looked away the moment you tried to return eye contact.

“want something to drink?” you asked, leaving your bag on the clothes hanger.

“no, thank you.” he replied, adjusting his glasses on his nose. you still went to the kitchen to grab a water bottle and two glasses, that you positioned on the table before pouring the bottle content on each glass. “so...” he begun, “wanna talk about it?”

you locked eyes with him, bringing the glass to your lips, without drinking it. there was something sparkling in his eyes, an emotion you’ve never seen in his face. something you couldn’t understand, was it annoyance? you didn’t dare to ask.

part of you wasn’t lucid. you weren’t realizing that he, the boy you grew up with, and begun having feelings for since the day you met, was sitting in front of you after days of not sharing a word with. the guy you spent your best days with, to which you shared your deepest fears, that saw you cry multiple times and was there when you needed him most. the only real friend you’ve ever had. the person that had your heart beating the rare times he’d be nice to you and give you compliments you knew were honest.

what has your friendship became?

swallowing a pool of saliva formed in your mouth, you crossed arms. “no.”

a confused smile crossed his lips. “why?” he lifted his eyebrow, in surprise. “you’ve been ignoring me enough, don’t you think? it’s starting to become boring.” he got up from his seat. “don’t get me wrong, i don’t miss you, but still it’s weird of you to do that without even giving me a reason.” he reached for the glass of water, moving his body closer to you.

it hit you right there. after that sentence. all... all the time you wasted loving a piece of shit like him. all the time you chased someone who didn’t miss you when you weren’t there.

sadness washed over you, shifting in a pulsating rage that made you laugh, a bit hysterically, a bit crazily.

“get out.”

“huh?”

“get the fuck out, tsukki.”

you grabbed his wrist and walked towards the entrance, opening the door. you looked at him, waiting. he didn’t budge. “what are you so fucking mad at me for?” he snatched his arm out of your grip, “seriously, y/n, what the fuck is going on?” suddenly, he grabbed your shoulders with his hands, staring at you with what looked like a hurt face.

your back hit the wall and your rage melted into tears, waiting to roll down your face the second you’d blink. but you had no intention of letting them.

“i fucking hate you. you use every opportunity to treat people like shit for no reason, just like you’ve always done to me. i was too naive to realize your “jokes” were just a way to bring me down to feed that shitty ego you’ve got and that treating me occasionally nicely was just a way to avoid me getting away from you. you’re fucking toxic, kei, and you give no fucks about anyone around you. words hurt and i hope you’ll learn that the harsh way. i don’t wanna be near someone like you anymore. get the fuck out of my house, now.”

tsukishima listened silently to every word you said, his lips slightly parted and eyes wide open in shock. he gulped several times, looking like a child whose been scolded and was now mortified. he babbled incomprehensible words, that put together sounded like “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about..” or close.

but after all, he listened, and left your house without trying to rebut, leaving a sense of you didn’t know what in your guts, heavy as lead.

✧ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ next ✧

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY ONE || JUJUTSU KOSHIEN

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + mention of injuries + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 20 april

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 4.4k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : nonstandard 

↳ next episode : jamais vu

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, i ain’t confident in this chapter since i started school again, but i hope you enjoy this episode and thank you for being so patient with me as i try to fit tumblr into my schedule with school ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

Destructive Curse Spell Number Thirty-Three : Sokatsui (6:00-6:07) (blue lighting explosion - Itadori Yuji)

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

this is Y/N outfit when she came into the baseball game (blame twitter)

“How much longer are you going to stare at her? It’s creepy”

Snapping out of his daze, Gojo quickly looked up from your sleeping figure to find his stoic student (who was now sitting up) looking at him with a deadpan expression before he turned to look at your sleeping figure as well with somewhat of a worried expression, wondering what caused you to be knocked out since what Fushiguro could recall was that the last time he saw you, it seemed like you were well and confident before he was carried away by Panda.

“Is it bad to worry about my daughter?” Gojo questioned with a hint of a teasing tone before looking back down at you with his small smiling turning into a straight line.

“Student to be exact, but I guess not after what the curses were after,” Fushiguro quietly mentioned causing Gojo to once again, look up to view Fushiguro with a confused expression painted on his face, trying to convey that he didn’t have a clue on what his student was trying to say. “The special-grade was after L/N...but I don’t know why,” Fushiguro instantly declared as if he was answering to his teacher’s perplexed expression leading to Gojo sighing in frustration before taking one of his hands out of his pocket to stroke your hair as if it would bring you some comfort in your dreamless slumber as he then processed to remove his other hand from his other pocket to reveal a carton of orange juice before placing it on the bedside table.

“Is that so?” Gojo asked rhetorically, before making his way towards the door since he was informed that there was going to be a meeting with the Jujutsu Tech principles and sorcerers that were involved with the whole Exchange Event incident.

However, before he was able to grab onto the handle, the wooden door violently flew open showcasing his other students Itadori and Kugisaki on the other side with a box of pizza in hand leading Gojo to smile at them both.

“Oh Gojo-sensei! What are you doing here?” Itadori asked once he comprehended that it was his teacher blocking the way to see his two other classmates.

“Ah~ I was just visiting Megumi and Y/N before I go, make sure to not make too much noise, I’m sure Y/n would really appreciate it,” Gojo answered with a cheerful tone, leading Kugisaki to tilt her head to the side to realise that you were sleeping - much to her disappointment.

“She’s still recovering?” Kugisaki then questioned, leading her teacher to look at her before explaining that you were knocked out due to using an excessive amount of cursed energy within a short amount of time causing Kugisaki to nod to his little lie since he didn’t even know why you were extremely distraught when he came to collect you.

“I’ll be going now, so see you later~ don’t wake up my precious daughter!” Gojo states with a playful tone, before waving his hand to all of the first-years leaving them to themselves with a warm box of pizza in hand.

                                                 ꕥ

“Next up are the casualties: three second-grade sorcerers, one semi first-grade sorcerer, five assistant supervisors, and two cursed storehouse guards. They’re all sorcerers who were standing by at Jujutsu High and working separately from Gojo-san and Principal Yaga. We’re waiting on the report from Ieiri-san, but we’re nearly certain it was the work of the cursed spirit that Nanami-san encountered before,” Ijichi explained as he was looking down at the document sheets he had in hand to inform all the sorcerer that was in front of him about the situation at hand.

“Tsk,” Gojo tutted in annoyance while leaning against the door with his lower face tucked into the collar of his sorcerer uniform.

“Do you think we should share this information with the students and the other sorcerers?” Utahime asked as she turned to her colleagues.

“No,” the Kyoto principal: Gakuganji quickly answered, as the fellow principal from Tokyo: Yaga explained that it was better for this information to be among the higher-ups as he didn’t want to cause anymore panic to the students residing in the area right now as well as not wanting any of the curse users in their captivity to know that a few special-grade objects that been stolen from the school premises.

“Has the curse user we captured spilled anything?” principal Yaga queried, leading Ijichi to explain that it wasn’t hard to get the certain curse user to talk at all since he was quite cooperative but all they managed to receive was irrelevant information that was deemed somewhat unhelpful to them.

“However, he claims that he only participated in the attack because he was ordered to as part of a deal,” Ijicji added, before informing everyone about the monk that the curse user was talking about when he was interrogated.

“An androgynous monk kid with a bob cut? That ring any bells?” MeiMei asked, as she turned her head slightly to peer at Gojo, who was right behind her.

“Nope! We sure he’s not spouting bullshit? Is there any sorcerer skilled at getting confessions?” Gojo answered before asking his questions since he knew he couldn’t be too sure if the curse user was even telling the truth in the first place.

“How did a cursed spirit and outsiders get through Tengen-sama’s barriers in the first place?” Utahime questioned, as she was still confused on how so many people were able to get in without any problems and alerts.

“That was probably the work of the special-grade cursed spirit the students fought, that one has a unique presence. Even though it’s a cursed spirit, it’s incredibly close to a natural spirit. According to Aoi, it was able to hide among plants and was quite burnt from a few techniques like wood would be, and Tengen-sama’s barrier doesn’t function against plants. Tengen-sama’s barrier puts all its power into hiding, not protecting, so once you get in, it’s kind of weak,” Gojo answered his colleague with an explanation that led the whole room to turn completely silent for quite some time.

‘Are they worried about Sukuna’s Finger enhancing Yuji’s potential? Or are they trying to enhance themselves? Why would they need Y/N then? Something isn’t sitting right’

“For now, let’s be glad our students are safe,” Utahime mentioned with a calm smile presented on her face as there was one calm and good news that they would celebrate on.

‘Safe? How long until Y/N is going to stay safe? For how long?’

“But it goes without saying that the exchange event is now cancelled,” principal Yaga informed everyone as he turned to look at the fellow Kyoto principal, who was sitting right near him.

“Hold on, that’s not for us to decide, is it?” Gojo asked in a light tone, causing everyone in the room to look at him in confusion since they didn’t know what they meant by it not being their decision.

                                              ꕥ

“When did you start getting along with that gorilla?”

At this moment, Itadori and Kugisaki were sitting next to each side of Fushiguro’s bed, as they were visiting both you and him, while all of them were munching on the pizza (which only had a few slices left) that was currently sitting on top of Fushiguro’s legs.

“Well, we got along, but like...I remember what happened, but I wasn’t exactly myself then…” Itadori answered in complete uncertainty as he didn’t even know the answer himself, causing him to scratch his head in confusion.

“What, were you drunk?” Kugisaki questioned in confusion since she was expecting a confident answer from her classmates.

“You believe I could’ve been drinking liquor in this situation? I’m shocked,” Itadori mentioned before looking down with somewhat of a disappointed look that his owl friend thought of him like that. “But I’m glad you and Y/N weren’t seriously hurt, Fushiguro. You’re able to eat pizza now, too” Itadori stated with a smile on his face as he turned to look at the shikigami user before turning his head to see your still sleeping figure on the bed behind Kugisaki causing her to turn around to check if you had woken up yet.

“Come on, bring me something easier to digest,” Fushiguro replied since he was still recovering but nonetheless, took the food that was given to him.

“No complaining,” Kugisaki answered back before taking another bite of her pizza slice before snatching the box away from Itadori, who was about to grab another slice, due to her wanting to save the last remaining two slices of the cheesy food for you.

“Apparently, I got off easier because my cursed energy was all dried up, Ieiri-san was still able to fix me up as soon as the roots were removed, but I didn’t know Gojo used up so much cursed energy as well, Gojo seemed really worried when he went to Ieiri-san,” Fushiguro explained before turning his head to glance at you.

“Huh, so that’s a thing that can happen?” Itadori questioned.

“You fought against them, didn’t you? Also, did you see the flowers right above us when we were in the veil? They were so pretty!” Kugisaki commented, before looking up as if she was going to answer who was the person was that released the technique.

“Flowers? Oh, you mean the pink ones?! Kugisaki, those were so dangerous, didn’t you see the blue lighting explosion that happened right after?! It literally gave the curse a whole gash across its body!” Itadori exclaimed in shock causing Fushiguro to remember the array of flowers that were hanging in the sky when Panda was carrying him just before he crossed the veil.

“It was so beautiful though, I hope to see them again, I wonder who it was?” Kugisaki questioned before finishing off the last piece of pizza.

“Itadori, you’ve grown stronger. Back then, we both said our convictions were proper ones, I still think that’s true. Or, put another way, we’re both wrong,” Fushiguro mentioned with a low tone, causing both Itadori and Kugisaki to look at him as he was talking.

“Huh?” Itadori uttered in a confused tone, while Kugisaki processed to rest her face on the palm of her hand with a small pout.

“Some questions don’t have answers, you know. You’re thinking too hard, you’ll go bald,” Kugisaki mentioned.

“That’s right. There is no answer, it’s just whether or not you can accept it. But there’s no accepting anything if you can’t have it your way. Weak sorcerers can’t do that,” Fushigurp replied back causing the whole room to go silent as they were beginning to process what Fushiguro had said in his mind.

“So I’m going to become strong, too. I’ll surpass you in no time,” Fushiguro declared as he turned to face Itadori with a look of determination.

“You never change,” Itadori responded with a small light giggle.

“Don’t just move the conversation forward without me, we need to catch up with him and Gojo,” Kugisaki mentioned with annoyance painted on her face.

“That’s my brother’s friends for you!” 

Suddenly, the first-year trio rapidly turned their heads forwards to suddenly discover Todo sitting down right in front of Fushiguro’s bed with a smile on his face as he nodded proudly of the conversation that he had interrupted.

Unexpectedly, Itadori rushed towards the glass sliding door next to your bed and opened it with a loud bang before swiftly sprinting away from Fushiguro’s room as fast as a cheetah, only for Todo to follow behind him yelling out where his brother was going.

“I’m grateful to you, but give me a break!” Itadori screamed, causing Fushiguro and Kugisaki to look at the scene with deadpan shocked faces. However, what they didn’t seem to notice was you softly groaning at the loud noise that was happening right now leading your eyes to slowly open but quickly close due to the bright lighting in the room right now.

Hesitantly, you slower opened your eyes again to see a maroon coloured ceiling before blinking a few times to focus your sight, causing you to gradually sit up on the bed you were laying in as your looked down onto your lap leading your hair to cover your face away from your classmates, who now finally noticed that you had awakened from your slumber.

“Gojo, you’re awake!” Kugisaki announced with a smile on her face, yet that smile slowly disappeared once she noticed how you weren’t answering her at all, but rather you kept silent as your hand began to bring itself to your forehead as if you had a headache.

‘So loud…’

After sitting in silence for a while, you noticed that you were wearing a long white button-up with some black Adidas shorts leading you to wonder who changed you since Kugisaki was the only one to ever see you in your undergarments since she was always the one barging into your changing room to throw more clothing pieces for you to try. However, that was one minor inconvenience to think about right now.

Slowly, you turned your body around (so your back was facing Fushiguro and Kugisaki) before placing your feet down onto the wooden flooring, leading Fushiguro to worry about you falling since you had been asleep for quite some time, yet for some reason, you couldn’t hear him at all.

Steadily, you began to stand up with your hand on the mattress to keep some stability in case you did stumble back before you began to make your way towards the gap of the glass door that Itadori and Todo left through before gently lifting your head up to admire the clear sky from above.

‘It’s warm…’

Casually, your body began to lean on the side of the door to give yourself some support as you began to brisk in some of the light warmth the sun was giving you as if that was enough to bring you the comfort that you wanted right now before noticing how the wind was slowly picking up.

“Gojo, you would really get back in bed, you’re still in the healing process and it’s quite cold,” Kugisaki mentioned as she stood up to come to collect you and guide you back to back. However, for some reason, something was telling her to stop as she noticed how you were not listening to anyone at all - or, you just didn’t hear them as it seemed like your hearing was blocked for any human to human communication.

Instantly, the wind that was picking up suddenly blew out a large gush causing some of the leaves from the trees to violently ruffle from its branches while your hair was now messily blowing in the wind as you leaned against the side closer to maintain your footing before you steadily noticed a few pink petals making their way towards you from your right side causing your eyes to widen in shock.

‘There’s still some more?’

Slowly lifting your hand to the sky, you lightly felt the petal grazed your fingers ever so slightly before they slowly become disintegrated to a flow of cursed energy they were made out of causing Kugisaki to look at them in amazement as she stood by your side, as she realised that more was coming towards you both as if you were a magnet to them leading her to come to an assumption that you were the one that cast the flowers back when she was in the veil with the other students and teachers as she remembered that Gojo mentioned that you had used a lot of cursed energy.

“Pretty…” you softly muttered with a small but disheartened smile, trying to hide the emptiness that your heart now had to endure.

“Right,” Kugisaki answered back as she leaned her body on your side while continuing to admire the small flower show that was happening right now causing you both to not realise that the person behind you had his eyes widened as if he had just remembered something that he had completely forgotten about.

                                              ꕥ

“So anyways, a lot happened and some people died, but how about it? Want to  continue with the exchange event?” Gojo asked all the students who were in the room right now...well all of them minus one.

“Where is Gojo though? Shouldn’t she be here?” Fushiguro asked while standing here the staircase as Kugisaki and Maki began to look around the room to see if you really weren’t here with them causing him to look at Fushiguro, scared about his perspective skills.

“Ah~ about that, she’s moving her stuff from her dorm to my clan’s estate for her safety!” Gojo announced before clapping his hands to the side like he did when you first came into Jujutsu Tech leading everyone in the room to widen their eyes at the news since it was quite unexpected since you seemed like the type to reject the idea since Tengen’s barrier was helping you to be protected - but for you, it was easier for you to hide your family heritage if you weren’t in the dorms much to your dismay.

“I don’t know what to say about it…” Itadori muttered as he was thinking of an answer for both the continuation of the Kyoto Sister Exchange Event as well as your sudden move away from the Jujutsu Tech student dorms.

“Obviously...we continuing it, of course,” Todo declared, causing Itadori to suddenly tense up as he steadily backed up near Gojo to have some coverage and security.

“Your reasons?” Gojo asked as he turned to look at the Kyoto student.

“First, only those with a connection to the dead have the right to mourn them, it’s not our place to butt in there and second, if people have died, that’s all the more reason we need to become stronger, besides if it weren’t for the flower technique back then, we wouldn’t have been able to cause more crucial damage to those cursed spirits. Acquired strength comes from the accumulation of results. Tasting defeat and savouring victory is what leads up to grow, the most important part is for those results to exist,” Todo explained as he became to recall the blue lightning that damaged the special-grade curse to a massive degree which was enough for him to gain the upper ground during his fight leading Gojo to internally smile at the information.

“Todo-senpai’s surprisingly reliable,” Miwa whispered to her classmate Mai.

“Reliably crazy,” Mai answered as she rested her head on her knuckles.

“Third, when a student feels like they weren’t able to bring out their best, it hangs over them until they die,” Todo mentioned with a confident smile.

“How old are you?” Gojo suddenly questioned, as Todo wasn’t even as old as he was and the Kyoto student was already talking about ‘hangs over then until they die’.

“I’m fine with that,” Fushiguro mentioned.

“We’ll win anyway,” Kugisaki stated with confidence.

“It sounds stupid, but he has a point,” Kamo replied with calmness.

“Why don’t you rest, Kamo-kun?” Nishimiya mentioned as she stared at her classmate with a fed-up expression due to the bandages wrapped around his face.

“No objections here,” Panda declared as he was answering for the second years in the Tokyo side.

“Salmon~” Inumaki replied back.

“Will we draw lots for the individual battle pair-ups? I want to see Gojo beat Todo’s ass again,” Maki asked before mentioning you since she wanted to see you in a proper fight rather than the million of practice rounds you had with her causing Kugisaki to smile at the thought as well.

“Huh? There are no individual battles this year,” Gojo unexpectedly announced, causing all of the students from both Tokyo and Kyoto to become extremely perplexed.

“I hate routines, you know. Every year, we put the competition methods in this box and open it on the day of,” Gojo explained before tossing the wooden box to Itadori, who looked up for his permission to take out whatever was in the box which he was granted when the teacher nodded at him.

Reaching into the wooden box, Itadori’s fingers felt one single piece of paper within the box before he carefully took it out to see what was written on it, only for him to blink that the wording in pure confusion.

“Baseball?!” Principal Yaga exclaimed in confusion leading Itadori to suddenly discover that both principals from the Jujutsu Tech schools were peering over his shoulders, causing Gojo to walk out of the building with a pleasant smile on his face.

Once outside, he could hear the commotion from behind as he stretched his arms happily before placing his hands in his pocket as he noticed you were standing in front of him with some distance, while one hand on your hips and the other holding a familiar carton of orange juice that he remembered leaving on the bedside table when you were recovering.

“Going home?” he asked before making his way towards you.

                                              ꕥ

Currently, you were walking towards a certain baseball field after finishing some moving your items to the Gojo clan’s estate with an outfit consisting of a simple white button-up shirt tucked into a long black skirt paired with black heeled ankle boots that you decided to wear for the first time since they had been sitting in the box for quite some time after you had brought them on your last shopping trip with Kugisaki.

From what you could hear from the distance, there seemed to be a lot of shouting going on meaning someone didn’t know the rules of the game or they just been called out and the player wasn’t having it at all.

Opening the metal gate, a few people began to notice you coming into the field leading some of your Tokyo classmates to greet you while a certain black divine dog decided to leave it’s owners side to rush to yours before sitting down in front of you with what seemed to be a happy look on its face causing a small smile tp quickly appear on your face as you began to pat its head.

“Hi there,” you greeted it, causing the dog to bark back at you while its tail continuously thumped the ground as if to express the happiness it had when it saw you.

“Shouldn’t you go back to Fushiguro to play the game?” you questioned it causing it to whine slightly before listening to you as it got up and turned back around to head towards Fushiguro, leading you to look at the side to see if there were any seats for you to sit on.

“Ah, Gojo! Are you going to play baseball with us?” Itadori asked cheerfully, causing you to smile back at him before rejecting the offer.

“You guys already started, so there is no point in my playing, but thank you for the invite,” you stated before quickly taking a seat on the bench behind you as you patted your skirt to stop any creases that were going to appear before spectating the game that was happening in front of you right now.

After a while, you had to admit that watching everyone from Jujutus Tech play baseball was certainly more interesting than the actual official game themselves on the TV screen you see from time to time, while Kugisaki throwing her helmet to the ground after the whole pitching machine incident to everyone being shocked at Momo catching the ball on her broom leading Itadori and Inumaki to shout to Todo being hit by Maki’s pitch leading everyone to encourage her further.

‘What a mess’ you thought with a grateful expression on your face that you weren’t playing in his game for the second day of the Exchange Event.

“Are you okay?” someone suddenly asked, causing you to snap out of your thoughts to look to your right to find Fushiguro looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

Unable to say your answer, you nodded at him before turning back to face yourself forwards as you gradually began to recall some of the events that had happened for the past few days before your head steadily placed itself on the middle of your chest as the empty feeling was somewhat still lingering - like as if something was dragged out of your soul.

‘1000 years ago…’

“Yeah...I’m fine,” you answered slowly as more information began to recall in your mind. From how you were sealed a thousand years ago only for the same sealed to be opened fifteen years ago leading to where you were now...surrounded by people that could potentially either keep you safe or do something that had many outcomes, especially with Sukuna residing within Itadori - with relief he didn’t know anything about your real birth.

‘Should I tell Gojo?’

“Gojo...I wanted to ask...have we met before? Like before we met in Sendai?” Fushiguro questioned you with a stutter causing your eyebrow to crook up in confusion leading Kugisaki, who was next to you to look at you with the same confusion.

“No, we never met before, you drag,” you answered, still perplexed on how he came up with a question with such an obvious answer leading you to lift your hand to flick his forehead for such a stupid question.

“Is that so?” Fushiguro muttered under his breath before looking up in the sky with amazement at how far Itadori had hit the ball with his bat while you and Kugisaki did the same.

‘Tiger of the West Middle...still lives up to that name’

Unexpectedly, you heard a childish giggle leading you to turn your head to find Gojo passing the school principals while using his infinity to keep the ants below his feet safe to which caused you to scoff in amazement at how lacked he was to use his technique all the time.

“Let’s go home Y/N!” Gojo shouted, causing you to look at him with a crooked eyebrow before scoffing once again at his playful behaviour.

“Let’s go home,” you whispered under your breath before everyone in the first year stood by your side and followed you out of the field to have a conversation with you before you left to go back to the Gojo estate.

‘Home huh?’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[rind0uu]

# 🔗𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄(𝐘)

— Pairing: Smiley x GN!Reader

— Genre: Angst

— Warning: Graphic depiction of violence, major character death, ooc Kakucho, manga spoiler (Tenjiku Arc)

Day 4 of 14 Days of Heartbreak || Masterlist

Kawata Nahoya or better known with his alias Smiley is always seen with a smile on his face whether it be fighting an enemy or standing by the sidelines. Though, he seems to have mastered giving different emotions even with the grin plastered on his face.

A great example would be when Smiley was up against an enemy wherein they were at a disadvantage and decided to play dirty by pulling his hair and biting parts of his body, his smile still shines brightly, reaching his eyes but evident irk can be noticed on his expression.

In spite of all that, nothing appears to have wiped the smile off his face. Not until his worst nightmare comes to life.

The day starts like any other, nothing special about it till he starts to get cold feet when faced with an opponent he’s thrilled to fight. It’s as if his knees could give up any second.

“Ah, I see you found our hideout” Kakucho says after seeing the three boys, clapping his hands for the information they gathered. “Oh from what I gathered, you have a twin… Where’s he at?”

Nahoya grin gets wider, a prominent vein on his forehead, toughing out his physical appearance even when he’s feeling the complete opposite on the inside, “Why the hell do you care?”

The head of the Four Heavenly Kings merely shrugs, “I got an intel that you're some nasty brat but I can’t believe you’re standing here while your other pair is being attacked right now,” He says while shaking his head feigning disappointment.

“What do you mean?” Nahoya unconsciously gulps the lump on his throat.

Kakucho’s lips form into a maniacal grin, “What do I mean?” He mocks his opponent’s tone. “He’s dropping dead any second now…” With the words he uttered, he quickly advances forward and successfully brings the peach haired boy down.

Nahoya gasps at the sudden tension delivered right on his stomach, dropping on the ground with his body sprawled out on the floor, coughing in the process, “I almost forgot, someone precious to you is no exemption.” Kakucho adds in holding his fist in the air, hitting Smiley on his jaw.

Although Nahoya had a hard time focusing and beating the gang who ambushed Toman, he managed to defeat one of Tenjiku’s Heavenly Kings even with the wounds he endured.

Toman’s fourth division captain arrives at a scene he thought would never happen in real life.

The smile that reaches his eyes and used to shine brightly drops as soon as his mind registers what’s in front of him. “Nahoya-kun…” Takemichi’s tone full of sympathy, not knowing how to comfort the other, also shocked by the scene that unfolded.

“Can you two leave me alone for a moment?” The smile is no longer anywhere to see in his face. Chifuyu nods at his words pulling Takemichi along with him right after. Nahoya slowly takes small steps where you and Souya lie.

Tears start escaping his eyes, lips quivering, his whole body trembling, and his knees giving up as soon as he reaches close to the only loved ones he has in life. Everything happening at the moment is so out of character for someone named Kawata Nahoya.

“I’m sorry…” He chokes out followed by a sob, extending his hand to push his twin’s hair aside. “I wasn’t able to protect you two…” He continues, sobbing harder as he cups your face, “I wasn’t able to live up to our promise.”

“I know that the two of you wouldn’t want me to avenge you…” He chuckles to himself, no humor behind it. “You two share the same mindset so much,” Smiley sobs out while the waterworks continue to stream down his face, “But how can I not avenge you two when it has come to this?”

Nahoya is now full-on sobbing, wiping his tears away with his hands stained with both your bloods, “Don’t you think it’s kind of unfair leaving me behind?” His words getting cut off by his hiccups.

He pulls back his hands, hand finding its way back to his thighs, fisting the cloth tight, knuckles turning white. “I don’t think I would be able to keep that promise for long enough…”

“Especially knowing who’s behind all of this.” Nahoya says with anger in his voice, eyes looking at the murder turned accident scene.

Angry’s motorcycle scratched from flying away after what it seemed to have 'lost balance', a tall post has an indent that Smiley knows is far from his brother’s bike model.

“I will not forgive Tenjiku for this. I will avenge the two of you.” Nahoya’s eyes that used to be closed from his smile are now wide open with fuming rage behind them. “I will never forgive them.”

Tag List: OPEN || @tisiphoneee ; @rizakari ; @welkinmoongrab ; @21-06-1996 ; @tajibodragon ; @miyuaditt ; @inu-to-manjirou ;

© rind0uu, 2022. rb is appreciated. allowing translation and repost on other platform as long as you send an ask first.

[estrel]

Saving Grace (And Staying Put)

destiel december 2020 prompt: presents | wc: ~1.3k

russian translation available thanks to @hereigoagain !!

[READ ON AO3] [RUSSIAN]

"What'd you think?"

Dean's staring at Cas, a glass full of eggnog resting against his lips. Behind the rim of it he’s hiding a smile at Cas' thoughtful squint, as Cas watches the end credits roll on the television.

"I think...I still don't understand. Are you meant to be my George Bailey?"

Dean splutters into his drink at that, sitting up to wipe eggnog from his mouth and set the cup on the coffee table. He shoots Cas a look, but Cas is still frowning, head tilted in question and maybe a little bit of concern at Dean's reaction.

After watching a myriad of Christmas movies that included Gremlins (a classic), Home Alone (another classic) and Krampus (Jack was not a fan), Sam and Jack had disappeared off to bed and Dean had stuck It's A Wonderful Life into the DVD player. His hope had been that Cas would get his Clarence references after watching it, but instead Cas was comparing Dean to the suicidal businessman that the angel saves in the movie.

What had made Dean choke was that he wasn't exactly wrong.

"I—I guess I am, man, yeah. I mean, I'd like to think I'm a little less pathetic, and I'm probably not as nice as he is, but it's...you're not too far off."

Their eyes meet, and Dean reaches between them for the remote.

"But I'm," Cas says, in a tone that makes Dean pause. "I'm not an angel anymore."

Dean sits back on the couch again, shifting once to get comfortable. "So?"

"So..."

He waits for Cas to continue, rubbing a thumb over the buttons on the remote as the silence stretches. The credits on the TV come to a stop. 

"So, I'm not...’Clarence’ anymore."

"And...what? Is that supposed to faze me, or something?" Dean looks at him again, and Cas' face expresses his apparent uncertainty. 

Dean smooths out his frown, opting instead to get across some of his own sincerity by dropping the deflections for a second.

"Cursed or not, Cas," he says gently, "Angel or not. Doesn't matter, we're...I—I'm better with you. So none of that leeriness, okay? Because you're more than just a set of fluffy wings and a halo."

He thinks Cas might take a crack at him again, indulge him that angels don’t have halos or harps or whatever Dean had said, but he doesn’t. He watches Dean for a long moment, all the while Dean pointedly tries not to notice, flipping channels for something else to watch. The Grinch might be good. 

“I have something for you.”

Cas reaches into a pocket, keeping his hand there while he thinks of how to proceed.

“I know it’s Christmas Eve, and that’s not typically when gifts are given... I also know that there’s probably a whole ritual that has rules and I’m sure you’re very picky about them, but I still...I don’t know if this will count as a present. But I still want to give it to you, if you’ll accept it,” Cas says. 

Dean feels his heart racing, thrumming against his chest so fast it makes him lightheaded. He simply nods, not trusting himself to speak, and watches as Cas pulls out the chain of a necklace until it reveals a small glowing vial that hangs off of it. 

On instinct, Dean reaches out to touch it, hovering his fingers just over the glass. He lifts his gaze to look at Cas. 

“Cas...what is this?”

The essence inside the vial swirls, a bright blue almost the shade of Cas’ eyes. Dean’s entranced, watching as it rhythmically shifts and moves against the glass. 

“It’s me,” Cas replies. “Well, more accurately...it’s my Grace.” 

Dean freezes. 

“Come again?”

Cas sighs softly. “My Grace.”

“You—you saved it?” Dean means to ask ‘How?’ next, but his mouth says, “And you’re giving it to me?”

Cas nods. 

“Why?”

Cas lets his arm relax, lowering it so that the necklace rests between them on the seat cushion of the couch. “You...gave me my humanity, Dean. You showed me how to care about...about everyone. I know I can never repay you for that, but I thought...I thought the least I could do was give a part of myself in return. I—” he hesitates, biting his bottom lip in thought.

“What?”

“No, nothing. I just...hope that you’ll accept it.”

Cas lifts it again in offering, and Dean moves his hand to fit the vial against his palm. It's warm to the touch. Dean wraps his fingers around it, and Cas lets go of the chain. It falls limply against Dean's knuckles.

"Thank you, Cas," He says, bringing it close to his heart. Cas smiles.

"Actually, I uh...I have something for you, too," Dean adds. With his free hand, he digs into his jean pocket and pulls it out, suddenly feeling that it’s a little dumb in comparison to the gift Cas just gave him.

"It's, ah, not exactly angel Grace, but," he holds out the flat of his palm, showing Cas.

Cas takes it from Dean's hand, holding it as if it’s as precious as the necklace Dean is clutching onto for dear life. He levels Dean with a serious stare.

"Are these...?"

"Keys," Dean says, "One's for Baby, and the other's for the Bunker."

Cas is quiet, so Dean keeps going. "I figured, y'know, without your Grace, you'll be needing to get places and, well, keys...open doors." He mentally curses himself. Keys open doors? He squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head a little to reset himself. 

"What I mean to say is, now it'll be easier to get home. You can come and go when you'd like, and you don't have to wait for one of us to let you in."

Cas' eyebrows twitch at that. "Home," he repeats, but it’s said like a question.

Dean nods, smiling softly. “Yeah, Cas. Home.” He looks away, startled a little by Cas’ sincere eyes that search his face. “If—If you’ll accept it.”

“Yes,” Cas says quickly. “I accept.”

“Good,” Dean responds. He tries to ignore how the racing of his heart makes his hands shake. He looks down at the necklace. It swings a little, gently touching his chest.

“Um,” Dean holds it out to Cas. He waits a moment too long, though, because he can see Cas’ smile beginning to falter. “Do you think you could help me with this?”

Stunned, Cas takes the necklace and Dean bows his head, feeling his ears go red. It’s a sign of trust, Dean knows, to let your guard down like this in their line of work. It’s like baring your neck to a vampire, or falling asleep next to a djinn.

Cas moves closer on the couch, and their knees touch just barely. Dean watches Cas’ Grace dip underneath his chin as Cas pulls the chain around his neck. He can feel Cas’ arms raised on either side of him as he fastens it, can smell Cas’ scent from how close they are. 

Then Cas is done, fingertips brushing the back of Dean’s neck as he rests the cold chain there. His touch lingers, and Dean’s breath catches, and then Dean is lifting his head up. 

They’re closer than he thought. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. Cas gives a small nod, eyes a little wide. His hands are still at the back of Dean’s neck, fingers brushing gently at the hair on Dean’s nape. Dean shivers, unable to contain it. He brings a hand up to Cas’ tie, holding it a moment, before deciding it could use some adjustment. 

Then both hands are fixing the knot, and when Dean is done, he uses the tie as leverage to pull Cas closer. There’s a pause, when both of their noses bump against each other, where Dean gives Cas an out. 

He doesn’t take it.

Dean presses forward, fitting their lips together. It’s the satisfaction of two missing puzzle pieces finally sliding into place, after years of being lost and collecting dirt under a couch. It’s clean, and it’s warm, and it feels like Purgatory all over again—like purity.

When they pull away, Dean’s a little out of breath. He places a hand on Cas’ face, running a thumb over his cheek.

“Stay,” Dean says. “Don’t leave my side again. I want—I want you to stay.”

Cas’ eyes glisten. “I will,” he says. “I will.”

tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@castiels-a-lamp @jellydeans @writtenmemxries @cestladean @randomblabbling @fluffiestlou @dreamnovak @weird-dorky-little-d @depressivedemonnightmaredean @jackleslongcon @friedchickenangelwings @galaxycastiel @destielle @dickspeightjrs @on-a-bender @organicpurplepants @casbelieves @samuelswinchester @spacegirlstuff @seffersonjtarship @winchester-novak @professorerudite @squintingg @holmesemrys @imnotrevealingmyname @festivemish @good-things-do-happen-dean @angxlsgrxce @casandeans @castielscrookedtrenchcoat @destiel-in-its-natural-habitat @gracelesschoice @superduckbatrebel @iheardyourprayer @top13zepptraxx @that-one-fandom-chick @scoobydean @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh @maxguevra @cursed-or-not @i-think-im-humanbut-cant-besure @fitinmypoems @madilineskingdom @awolfnamedaliac @castee-yel @tearsofgrace @credentiast @fivefeetfangirl @my-favourite-hellatus @gray-is-neutral @sunflower-vol-28 @ensignabby @ar-bi-trary @lulu-zodiac @y-yo-a-ti-dumbass @castielology @nguyenxtrang @destiel-bitches

[after-witch]

Take Flight [Yandere Nikolai Gogol x Reader]

Title: Take Flight [Yandere Nikolai Gogol x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re a fantastic actress when you’re on the stage. But your captor isn’t fooled when there’s no stage magic to hide your real feelings.

For request: request for anything with BSD!Gogol please!

Word Count: 1772

notes: Yandere, kidnapped, noncon implications, implied torture/physical abuse

You look so beautiful when you’re immobile. Especially when you don’t know what you’ve done to deserve it, when your eyes are widened in fear, your mouth whimpering behind the tight cloth gag; your mind no doubt racing, searching for what you’ve done and why this is happening.

You look especially beautiful when he opens his coat and pulls out a few tools. He deliberately lays the hammer on the far end of the table, next to your feet. Now that makes you beautiful, as you cry out as much as possible behind the gag, some drool making its way past the increasingly soaked cloth your chin. Your muffled “no” is music.

He hates to clip your wings like this. But it’s only temporary. And, really, you’ve brought it upon yourself. Not by acting up--oh, no, definitely not that. He smiles to himself as he thinks about what a good birdie you’ve been lately. How obedient. How submissive. How sweet.

It took a lot of effort. A lot of punishment. A lot of pain. But on the surface, you’ve transformed into the sweet swan that he’s dreamed about keeping in a gilded cage. Literally and otherwise. Of course, he’s not that easily fooled--he knows you still hate him, fear him, on the inside. No matter how much you embrace him or let him have his way with you, no matter how much you try to please him with words and kisses, you’re still fighting him in your heart. Beating against your cage with your wings when his back is turned, as it were.

And you know something? It’s just not good enough. His life is already a game of duality. And he wants only a singularity with you, a single reality where you are broken and his for however long he wants to keep you. What would be the point of throwing you away when you’re still fighting him?

And thus, it’s only fitting that you’re currently bound to the table where you’ve received your other punishments. He’s not much of a cleaner, and there’s still the odd blood stain lodged in the wood grains. A handy table with straps on each end that keep your wrists and ankle immobile. He’s even given you a pillow, because why not, why not?

It’s easier when you’re tied up to see the real you underneath, the desperate, terrified person that only wants to stay alive. That only wants to avoid pain. The remnants of blood stains underneath you are a testament to that.

You do put on a good show, otherwise. But not quite up to par, he admits, hence his critical review. If he was a theater critic, he might call your efforts “valiant, but not worthy of the highest acclaim.” Or perhaps “They clearly need a little more time to develop, but it’s a good effort.”

You can kiss him. You can perform for him. You can let him touch you and hurt you, when he wants, without complaint. But you can’t hide all of the little things that give you real state of mind away. The way your jaw trembles ever so slightly when you stand up on your toes (so precious) to give him a kiss. The quarter-second that your eyes drift away before you tell him you love him, you adore him, you never want to leave him. The slight hint of revulsion, always covered with a smile in an instant, when he enters your cage at night. 

Did you think you’re fooling him? He hopes you did. He loves the idea of snatching the rug from underneath your feet, nimble as they may be. You’re good at acting on the stage--he could wax poetry about how ethereal, how in-the-moment you look when you’re dancing; when you’re practically flying across the stage, your tulle skirts swishing and the thin soles of your shoes slapping against the hard floor.

But when you’re off the stage? The magic is lessened. There are no stage lights to cover up your occasional tired expression, no swelling music to add emphasis to your movements if they become too strained. No stage tricks to hide your face from the audience for a moment of reprieve. It is no good, after all, for Odile to seduce the prince with her arms, her legs, the fierceness of her fouettes--if her face gives away that she finds him repellent.

Without the trickery of the stage, you give yourself away. Which is one reason why he’s decided to be oh-so-cruel to you today. The other? He’ll never tell you. Maybe you’ll guess it someday, if you happen to glimpse the expression he holds as you pirouette across the stage, no limits, no boundaries, only the music and the motion and the buzz of the audience to lift you up high.

But, he muses, picking up the hammer--the noises you’re making, oh, how fun!--it’s time to get back to the task at hand.

“Or at foot,” he says, giggling. But you don’t get the joke. He approaches the head of the table and your muffled pleas grow louder. They’re so soft, so confused. What did you do? What did you do? Please, please, please. He’s heard it all before, but it’s still enjoyable to take in. Like a comforting book.

He trails a gloved finger along your cheek, spreading your tears around like a child tracing lines on a foggy car window.

“I know you want to fly away from me.” He keeps his tone light and teasing. You immediately shake your head in denial, and Christ in heaven is that fantastic, the way you want him to believe you no longer desire escape, no longer desire true freedom.

He tuts at you, wagging the tip of his gloved finger in front of your face before leaning in closer. “If I let you fly away, would you still be my pet? If you fly away on your own, would you be free?” It’s rhetorical, and your expression betrays your lack of understanding behind his words.

He does want to hear your voice behind the gag, so he swiftly undoes the tight knot and tosses the soaked fabric aside.

“Please, I love you,” you say immediately, voice weak and pleading. “Nik--Nikolai, I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?” You hesitate for a moment, but then you continue. “I’m so sorry, whatever it is. I must have… disappointed you.” You lower your eyes and the downcast expression, the defeat in your gaze, makes him wish he had a camera on hand.

You’re so submissive. It really is beautiful. But you’re submissive because you want to avoid being hurt. You’re submissive because he’s got a hammer resting next to your precious feet and you don’t want him to lift up that hammer and bash your bones until they break.

Where’s the fun in that?

He hums to himself as he begins a deliberately slow walk back to the end of the table. He trails his fingers down your body and enjoys the sight of little goosebumps rising on your flesh, enjoys the way you squirm, just a bit, when he pokes at your sensitive side.

When he picks up the hammer, you begin to babble. The words aren’t important--he’s listening to the tone, the way your voice is thick with sadness and fear. Please, no, don’t, I’ll do anything; all words that run from your mouth like water through a stream. He ignores them and instead holds one of your feet still with his hand. There’s a power in your feet, thanks to the years of dancing and even more years of training. He thinks about taking that power away. About what that would mean. About what it would do to you.

When he rubs the end of the hammer against the top of your foot, you groan, a guttural sound of pure horror. The sound of someone whose entire reason for living, whose heartbeat, rests on the ability to dance. 

Your breath is sharp and scratchy when he suddenly lifts the hammer up and brings it crashing down on your ankle--where it immediately compresses and squeaks, high and childish.

It’s rubber. It’s a rubber toy. Nothing more.

Your breath comes out in short, harsh puffs. He takes in your expression, which is at once horrified and confused and relieved and even a bit angry.

“What--”

His sharp, pleased laughter interrupts you. And when he laughs, you laugh, just a little. He’s surprised that he can’t tell if it’s a genuine laugh of pure relief, an attempt to mimic him to stay in his good graces, or a sign that you’re losing your mind. Maybe it’s a mixture of all three.

He wastes no time in undoing your straps, and he pulls you into a sitting position. Your entire body is trembling, an adrenaline crash turning your legs to rubber as he helps you to your feet and loops your arm around his shoulders for added support. 

You don’t even have time to process the fact that he didn’t hurt you before he starts leading you out of the room and back to your pretty little cage and your pretty little bed. He drops you on the bed with a flourish, and you bounce slightly on the mattress--face still in shock, still processing.

“That was fun, right?” he says, voice once again teasing. “Now let’s play a little more.” He begins undoing his belt buckle, and what would have been the normal flash of revulsion on your face is replaced by something new: relief. Relief that you can dance? Relief that you didn’t earn any new scars, any new injuries, any new pain? He’s not sure that the exact reason matters. It’s something new, and it’s a step closer.

He grins and begins making quick work of his clothes. You’re already on your knees in front of him.

Relief, after all, comes in many forms.

[pillow-anime-talk]

genshin month ; third day.

synopsis: You and your fiancé started spending less and less time together.

# tags: scenario; current relationship; romance; mild angst; also fluff; sfw with suggestive ending

includes: female reader ft. albedo & sucrose {genshin impact}

author’s note: it’s time for some fucking angst but with happy end, friends.

You packed a delicious-looking breakfast into a special bamboo box, and then wrapped both the beautifully scented bento and the paper bag with chocolate cookies in a much larger piece of colorful fabric to make it all more convenient to carry. A proud smile graced your face as you turned to greet Albedo, whose footsteps you heard in the distance.

“Hello, darling.” You greeted him warmly and then felt a sweet kiss in the middle of your hot forehead. “Breakfast is on the table, and here, I packed your dinner. Please, eat it later, okay?” You added softly, touching his delicate skin on his cheek by your left hand, and the man nodded gently, after a while, however, nestling your body into his slightly larger and warmer. “Huh? Something happened?”

“Well... I know, I promised you that today we will spend some time together and go for a walk, but I will have to stay longer at work.” He confessed hesitantly, and you sighed under your breath.

“After all, you are our Chief Alchemist, I’m not really surprised. Has Jean commissioned you to do something important?” Curious, you asked, and he shook his head, which made you a bit confused. So you raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to answer you truthfully.

“Sucrose asked me to help her with alchemy, so I’ll stay with her a little longer to help her master some of the things.” He admitted calmly, and your expression becomes blank. Ah, right. You could have figured out that the reason for all of this is your fiance’s helper, Sucrose.

You moved away from his body, then sighed; nevertheless, a weak smile appeared on your face. Not very honest, but Albedo didn’t seem to notice it.

“It’s okay, love. Let’s go eat our breakfast. I made your favorite vegetable and mushroom omelets.”

{ ･ﾟ✧ }

Hours after Albedo left the house, you realized that you forgot to add a thermos with coffee to his large bento. You decided to quickly fix your mistake and prepared his favorite, strong drink. You also took some fresh fruit and packed it in a small cloth bag. On its front there was a beautiful bouquet that you had embroidered yourself a few days earlier.

Even though you were confused by the behavior of your lover, you couldn’t stop worrying about him. He was the most important person for you, he was your beloved second half, he was also the best human you have ever met, so you wanted to repay him for looking after you and making sure that nothing bad would ever happen to you. Albedo cared for you as best he could and you appreciated it like nothing else in the world. However, for a long time you have had the impression that this care and interest in you begins and ends in your shared home, where no one is looking, where no one is allowed to enter.

Your weekly walks around the city were a thing of the past, and you didn’t want to ask for them every time. Your ‘family’ lunches were no longer shared lunches, because you ate them alone while the twenty-two-years-old was in his lab or carrying out his missions. Your tenderness was limited to kisses on the forehead, and you missed kisses on the mouth, on the nose, on other parts of the body. Not to mention about long baths together or time spent in bed (not necessarily reading books, but something... more intimate).

Nevertheless, you weren’t particularly angry, maybe a bit disappointed, but you didn’t feel angry with your partner. The only thing you could feel at that time was your concern about whether Albedo takes care of himself and takes care of his daily menu or the right amount of water consumed throughout the whole day.

The road to the place where the young man’s laboratory was located took you less than twenty minutes. Along the way, you greeted the inhabitants of Mondstadt, who, seeing you, wished you a nice day and asked you to greet, quoting their words, ‘The Great Captain’. At the sound of their joyfull voices you smiled slightly, nodding your head and promising you would do it. And as soon as you got to the right place, you quietly entered the building. You wanted to say ‘Good afternoon’ to your loved one and green-haired teenager, but instead you almost felt that the bag of products falling out of your hands.

You knew Albedo cherished you and would never cheat on you, but it hurt to see him leaning forward next to Sucrose. It seemed that his lips were about to touch her cheek or temple, and it hurt as badly as any other form of cheating. He had so much fun with her and their alchemy, so many topics to talk about, from work to missions they were given, and you? All you two could talk about was only... Yeah, was what?

“Umm... Albedo?” Your peaceful voice spread over the fairly large room, and two people next to the wooden table looked up at your standing figure. “I forgot to pack your coffee in the morning... I’ll put it here and I won’t disturb you two anymore. Don’t overstraining yourselves, okay?” Your faint smile covered a broken voice and trembling lips. “Good luck with your work and study. Do your best.”

You quickly put the silvery thermos and colorful fruit on the dark cabinet, and just as quickly left the room. Albedo, seeing your figure disappearing, apologized to his assistant, and she nodded. But before the blonde alchemist left the room, Sucrose grabbed him by the black sleeve of his clothes and laughed shyly.

“Mr. Albedo, I don’t think I need any extra lessons today, though. We can arrange a different date. Will it be okay?” Her girlish voice reached his ears, and he mechanically agreed, breathing blissfully. “Thank you. Please keep Mrs. Y/N company tonight. I think she misses you really much.”

The knight wanted to answer, but instead he ran after you, catching you up almost at the exit of the brick building. He took your sad face slowly between his all, long fingers and you frowned.

“Why are you leaving? You’re always welcome here, darling.”

“I just don’t want to disturb you two, Albedo. I don’t fit here.” You admitted finely, and your gaze shifted to the mahogany panels under your feet. “Sometimes I wonder why you are with me. I don’t even understand alchemy, you can’t talk to me about it. You should... Maybe you should be with Sucrose? Or with another woman who shares your hobbies...?” You asked tenderly, and he opened his eyes wider, pulling your body into a warm embrace.

“I never thought of leaving you for someone else, dearest. Why are you talking about this at all? What happened?”

Your eyes met his deep blue orbs again, and you shrugged timidly.

“Currently, Sucrose is closer to you than I am. I thought you were bored with me. Moreover – I don’t thi...”

A precious kiss on your blueberry-tasting lips silenced your thoughts and at the same time caused a tiny blush on your both cheeks and ear tips.

“Sucrose is my successor, it’s true. But, my love. You are my future wife and you’re definitely more important to me than she is. Please don’t ever think that I will leave you for someone else. You are the best thing... no, you’re the best person that enter to my life and I love you very, very much. Also... Sucrose always asks about you and says she wants to be like you. Like someone who know how to cook or bake, sew clothes and plushies, make beautiful hairstyles like the ones on my head. She admires you as someone admires their mother. Sometimes I have the feeling that she would rather be your apprentice than mine.” He laughed cutely, and you looked at him in big surprise. After a short while, however, you nodded, resting your head on his smooth neck. “... I know I’ve been neglecting you lately and I’m ashamed of it, but now I promise to make it up to you. Therefore, let’s go home and tomorrow we’ll go for a walk to the lake or for a picnic.”

“Huh? But your job? Extra-curricular activities...? And what about...”

“Don’t think about anything. We’re done now so let’s go, dear. I have to show you how different you are from other people when it comes to my feelings.” Suddenly his mouth was right next to your left ear, and warm breath wrapped around your face. “And I don’t promise you’ll fall asleep tonight.”

“... A-Albedo!”

previous day ; aether ♡ next day ; keqing

[glowingbadger]

It is the S/O’s first time and she has to deal with, as you call it, Seteth’s “foot long Dragon cock”? That one text post where you wrote that still has me rolling

/cracks knuckles/ FAIR WARNING folks, we're going full Size Queen today and I am not about to apologize for it.

And like idk if this is even good I just went into a fugue state and got carried away and here we are xD

Seteth (FE3H) x Reader's first time

NSFW 18+

Seteth had been absolutely meticulous about your pleasure. If your sense of time weren't so thoroughly scattered by now, you'd guess he'd easily spent an hour worshiping your every curve, seeking out your every precious sweet spot. You'd felt stray locks of emerald hair tickling the flesh of your chest and stomach, the harsher graze of his beard along your inner thigh, the long, luxurious warmth of his tongue pulsing at your cunt. All the while, large, strong hands explored and adored you with barely restrained hunger. And Goddess, you longed to see that restraint crack. To see what lied beneath the trappings of Seteth's day-to-day existence of paperwork and reports, stern looks and perfect posture.

Yet as of now, he hasn't even removed his breeches, though you'd been bared and thoroughly pleasured already. He wraps one arm under you as he lies by your side, and his free hand brushes tentative fingers along your soaked lower lips. Your breath hitches in your chest, and you barely manage to focus your eyes enough to meet his.

"Seteth," you say, closer to a moan as a fingertip presses to your entrance, "You... don't have to- to do all of this for me," the words rush out of your lips so you can finish your thought before he pushes into you. Your head tilts to the side, nuzzling against his shoulder, and you force just a few more words out, "What about you...?"

"I am quite content attending to you, Y/N" he says, his voice low and even, even as his finger curls at some wonderful spot, and your body arcs into him. Once he's satisfied with the first, he pushes a second digit into you, thrusting at a deep and steady pace. He varies his movements and angle, slowly opening you up, relaxing your body beneath him and coating his fingers in your juices.

"Please..." you whisper, clinging to his sturdy frame, "I... I want- mmmh-!" You're already close again. His fingers spread apart, stimulating you in a completely new way. When your pleasure-blurred eyes meet his, you can just barely glimpse the restless need behind them. "I want to help you... fell good too... Please, Seteth?"

He exhales heavily, and his fingers ease out from you. You catch your breath as he pauses in silence for a moment, seemingly grappling with some last hesitation. You're still collecting yourself when he gets to his feet to finally discard the last of his clothing, but when your eyes refocus and you glance over at him, your heart skips and your body warms through.

"Oh... I, uh... wow." Your pupils are blown wide as you size him up. Sure, you had never been with a man before- not really, anyway -but you know enough to quickly realize that the pious man before you is near impossibly endowed. His massive cock stands almost entirely erect, yet pulled down just slightly by its own sheer size and weight. Seteth clears his throat, a hand sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"You understand now why I have been so insistent upon preparing you," he says as he moves to join you on the bed once more.

"I suppose so..." you mutter, unable to keep your eyes from wandering his body in a way that any devout believer would consider sinful.

"Men of my kind possess certain... reproductive advantages over humans." he goes on as he positions himself over you. A hand beneath your chin urges you to look him in the eye, "Promise me you will tell me if I hurt you."

You nod. And then, you feel the tip of his manhood, hot as it pushes between your lower lips and against your opening. Seteth's brow is furrowed in focus, his expression so intense he's practically glaring at you, and it's all you can do to keep your eyes on his as he begins to spread you open. In a moment, the bulging head of his cock is nestled inside of you, pushing out against your inner walls as he stays himself for a moment to check on your comfort.

You're already panting softly despite yourself. Your cheeks are flushed a dark crimson, burning almost as hot as the rest of your body. With nothing but unabashed lust in your eyes, you look up at him and whisper,

"Seteth... muh- more, please..."

The holy man utters a low groan and grits his teeth. His head dips down to rest on the pillow beside yours as he sinks deeper and deeper into you.

"Don't... I can't bear it when you plead with me like that."

And for a moment, you think to test that bit of new information; but then he's pushed several inches into you and he's stretching you like nothing you've ever felt before, and it's all you can do to spread your legs just a bit wider for him. Wordlessly, he reaches down and hooks an arm under your knee, drawing your leg further up and opening you up more for him. Before he's even thrust all the way into you, his hips begin to sway just slightly, and you're grateful now that he made sure you were wet enough to take him. Every stroke of his cock sends a jolt of electrifying, stimulating pleasure up your spine.

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. His breath is hot, panting softly against the crook of your neck, and now he's bucking into you just a little harder. The muscles of his back are wound so tight, and his moans are shaky, unsteady. He's doing everything in his power to hold himself back for you, and you can tell, but you know it's for the best. Every time he drives deeper into you, you're more full than you ever thought possible. Soon enough, his thrusts do bring a tinge of pain amidst pleasure- yet you don't think for even a moment to ask him to stop.

And it dawns on you that, in some way, you find it intensely thrilling that the Church's Right Hand is fucking you so deep you can't think with a cock that would seem like an exaggeration to speak of. Even the pain is arousing, and you wonder if Seteth would believe you if you told him. For now, you simply cling to him until with one final push, he pauses. His arms have both traveled under the arch of your back to hold you flush against his body, and your legs are wrapped around his hips, and he growls against your chest,

"That's... that's all of it..." he huffs out a deep breath, then raises his head to kiss you so sweetly that you wouldn't think his manhood was stretching you to your limit at that moment. Your eyes are watering just a bit, and he murmurs your name softly.

"Goddess..." is all you manage.

"Language." he replies with surprising levity, and it barely even registers in your mind that Seteth just made a joke- on purpose, at that. But then he's shifting his hips against you once more and your mind is dashed of all but your heart and body's worship of Saint Cichol. He pushes himself up from you just a bit. Just enough to watch your expressions, either out of caution or fascination or both. He begins slow, easing in and out of you until you adjust fully to his size- at least, as well as you possibly could.

Then, his hands are at your hips, holding you firmly in place, and he's bucking into you harder and just a little faster and you can feel his abdomen flex with each tightly controlled motion. He checks in with you at least two or three more times as he edges closer and closer to fucking you in earnest. You're impressed at how coherent you manage to be when you tell him not to stop, that he feels incredible, that you adore him. His head tilts back for a moment, and at long, long last he lets out a true and unabashed moan of pleasure. The sound alone floods your body with new heat, and you feel yourself clench around him, your thighs shaking. You're not certain how long you manage to last after that, but by the time one more electrifying climax has swept through your body, Seteth has lowered himself to hold you close to him once more.

And once he does, his hands grip you more tightly, his fingers digging down your back. You gasp aloud as his entire body shifts forward over you and his hips meet flush with your inner thighs. Every thrust sends a jolt of pain and pleasure up through your core, radiating through your nerves. His voice is low and husky when he frantically says,

"Where-"

"Inside- please, Seteth-!" you don't need to consider this for a moment- it's how you'd always imagined it. Hissing your name through his teeth, his entire length throbs powerfully inside of you, and suddenly the intense heat of his orgasm begins to fill you. You feel the first shot or two, but before long you're so over-full and over-stimulated that you merely allow him to pour out his load into you while you lay beneath him, boneless and panting and utterly giddy.

You're both entirely spent. Seteth exhales as he carefully pulls himself from you, even this one last moment of friction causing you to squirm beneath him. He collapses at your side and rests his head on your chest, a hand lazily tracing loving paths along the curve of your waist. You can feel his cum trailing down your backside, but you're too sore to move and too content to care.

"I... I apologize if I-"

"Hush." you kiss his hair, and he softly laughs, his breath feather light across your skin. "I won't have you apologizing for making me feel that good." you add, your arms cradling him in turn. He smiles and blindly kisses whatever inch of your skin is closest- anything will do if he can show even an ounce of his adoration.

"Then I apologize for underestimating you. You are far too good to me, my love."

[rrasado]

Hello! May request headcanons of Leona and Octavinelle students (separately) react to fem reader having Hanahaki Disease because of them, but she never tells them directly that they're the cause of it? Have a nice day!

Blood Stained Blooms

Ara? What do we have here now 🧐. I’m joking sjsjsj angst is my go to and you hit the spot. Tag some Lion and Octavinelle stans perhaps~?

⚠️ TW: Mentions of blood and vomiting.

When words are left unsaid...

Honestly, he never expected someone with so much spunk as you to just...reel over to the floor choking out bloody flora that could’ve easily been fitting with the greenery at the botanical garden he naps at.

And at the same time, Leona knew that...people with strong fronts have a tender foundation. What do you think he is? Well it wasn’t like he bothered hiding his shortcomings, it just so happened that he never gave a care for what people think of him.

That...would’ve been the usual. What is unusual however is you vomiting on the ground pathetically clutching your chest gasping for dear oxygen. Call it what you will, instinct, concern, desire, it didn’t matter to him what the hell he was truly feeling because the next thing he knew, he was already kneeling next to you brows furrowed whilst his calloused hand placed itself on your back.

He could feel it, with the way your shoulder blades tensed and relaxed at an unnatural rate under his touch while Blood continued to trickle down- The lion beastman was no fool either. Something to this degree isn’t at its early stages is it? He was no doctor but...he felt a tinge in his chest at the thought of someone just suddenly dropping dead. It was it because it’s you who knows…

The way you weakly smiled at him as you ushered him with a blood stained hand wasn’t something that would calm him down, it might’ve made him even more spurred. Gritting his teeth his ear twitched. Before standing up and grumbling to himself.

“Oi herbavour- what the hell is that-“ “A-ah..Leona..”

Leona is Leona, the lonely second prince that forgot his title whenever he was with you, but he didn’t knew how to handle this. How to handle the thought of you in a gruesome state- ah...he accidentally stepped on a flower….Ruggie would later be ordered to fetch whatever information he can manage to attain about the hellish illness.

...His mind is truly in uproar...

It was all too sudden, even for him. One minute you two were walking side by side in the corridors discussing a possible deal and the next thing he knew, eyes locked for a split second when he saw the sudden struck of immense pain on your expression before falling to your knees on the carpet and spewing out…

Azul, was truly ambushed with so many unwanted emotions, his usually calculative mind didn’t know where to focus on, your pain the blood spewing out or the cruelly beautiful flowers that landed on the stained carpet.

His sharp posture diminished shaking his head before finally making a move, a childish reaction but he took out his own cleanly pressed handkerchief and offering it to you. So what if it’d get stained with your blood? He’d rather clean out stains than to see you reeling on the ground!

Once your coughing dies down the octavinelle dorm leader would debate whether to ask or comfort. On one hand he knew that being double weighted by pain and interrogation isn’t good but on the other hand- he wanted to know what the hell you’ve been going through and he wanted to know ASAP.

Look the variety of clients he’s had to deal with never had a near death situation so he wasn’t sure if this was even within his prowess- and if he can’t help you then his vast network of connections should help, it has to help it has to. That’s what he’d be telling to himself unbeknownst to him that you’ve been weakly calling out to him- a-ah yes?

“Dear..you-“ “C’mon we’ll be late..I-I think we can grab some water on the way”

In the end he opted for the former, gently helping you back up on your feet and already concucting his next course of action, he’d later find out the cruel disease...he wasn’t the one having flowers bloom in his lungs so why did his chest wince…?

...You were far too precious for him to let go of...

It was- not part of his predictions, far from within his spectrum of deductions even.

Taking you out for a hike to admire and study the natural specimens Mother Nature has to offer in the land forms near Night Raven college was supposed to be...not bloody.

As much as of a sucker the Vice dorm leader is for the unexpected. This particular instance did not please him in the slightest. He grew and went about keeping his true feelings under an eerily serene exterior, this situation wasn’t an exception.

But he had to wonder wether his forced calmness helped you or made it worse, the way your eyes met his heterochromatic gaze just- the way the pain doubled in your gaze when you saw an eerily calm ocean in his eyes was what you recieved but why does it hurt even more..why does it feel like he doesn’t care when he-

You didn’t had time to even complain about something seemingly insignificant as that- the flowers that fell from your mouth along with spurts of blood like a crimson waterfall was taking up you train of thought. You need air- oxygen was taken for granted huh...like how the calmer eel twin took you for granted.

“J-jade...don’t think much about it..” “...as you wish..”

Honestly, just like how he handles other dire situations, he’ll calmly handle you to the bare minimum- but that isnt to say he isn’t worried, because he is...more than he’d like to admit. He’s seen how cruel life can be but when it comes to you...he never actually considered it. So expect him to frequent the library more rather than taking hikes. Because just like how he handles other situations...it’s better to find the source, and when he does...

...He’ll be even more diligent, unbeknownst to you...

Under the bleachers- hey...is that- Koebi-chan did you spill some juice? Ehehe lemme grab you an extra shir-...that smell...

What’s that in your mouth? He thought you were just snacking on something with strawberry jam but that...land dwellers don’t usually eat flowers with jam now do they? Poor Floyd...denial off the bat. But his body already began to move on its own, taking long strides towards your shuddering form as he grasped your shoulders to steady you.

He gulped down whatever lump hitched in his throat only for nothing to come out, for once floyd actually took the time to observe. The other always told him he was too reckless, he never cared since it adds to the thrill but- shrimpy choking out fully bloomed floranstained crimson isn’t thrilling at all. He doesn’t like this he doesn’t think this is fun- get youre pranking him right?..right?

What would the others do- no he doesn’t have time to think like the others he’s the only one with you now- he should carry you to the infirmary ye that’s good, good job floyd just slowly carry them and- he ran faster than for any errand he’s had to do. The infirmary was his only destination. Wether others stared at his rare expression of seriousness or the writhing person in his arms. It didn’t matter, those useless guppies don’t matter.

He demanded you to be treated, without even thinking wether whatever made shrimpy like this can even be cured in the first place. How would he even know? He’d know when the staff informs him, when they inform him how they can only keep the symptoms at bay but not fully cure the illness. This pest of a decease was making his shrimpy suffer and you’re telling him no one can do anything about it? WHAT TYPE OF A DAMNED DECEASE IS THIS-

“This ain’t fair! What the hell is-“ “F..Floyd hey...it alright.”

Suffice it to say he doesn’t take the news well, this was such an annoying thing to have, all for love? Who the hell wouldn’t love shrimpy!? Shrimpy is shrimpy and they are fun! Goodness Floyd...he only calms down when the teen in the infirmary bed ushers him close with a shaky hand...

...He despises the situation...

[uglypastels]

Slide In // Frat!Tom

(a/n) I’ve never written this au before, in like a full fic i think, so i have no idea if this is good, but i had this idea in the middle of the night and yeah. I hope you guys enjoy. this may or may not have been inspired by a certain post @duskholland made about Tom and his mirror selfies <3 how amazing that he literally just posted one today lol

word count: 16.7k

warning: drinking, mention of drug use (weed), school, social anxiety, some smexy innuendos. i made some big last minute changes, so i hope its all coherent. 

DEEPFAVE: Liking a photo (or any post) from over a year ago.

It was a cloudy morning, and it was early. Really really early. Not even the birds felt up to it, it felt like. The campus was slowly awakening or going to sleep (depending on if you had been to last night’s Delta Kappa party, of course). 

It was cold, and the leaves fell off the branches with each huff of the morning breeze. The grass was wet from the previous night’s rain, and it soaked your ankles as you ran through the small grass field, in hopes to cut a bit off the distance to your lecture hall. 

It had not been your fault that you overslept. You had gone to bed early; your backpack was already packed for the next morning. It was supposed to be a relaxing morning, perfect for easing back into it after a week of sleeping in and celebrating the holidays. How could you have expected that your roommate would barge into your dorm at 2 am, still whoo-ing her drunk ass in the corridor with other wasted idiots? 

And it wasn’t like you were against all that partying and drinking. You would have gone yourself to the frat party, but it just didn’t sit right with you. A giant house full of intoxicated strangers- the anxiety running through you just thinking about it was making you shake. 

So, instead of “living a little”, as your older brother called it, you preferred to stay in bed most evenings, either watching Netflix or reading a book. Yet, still, you had been kept awake for so long last night that you slept through your alarm. What was supposed to be a calm morning turned out to be ten minutes of rushed panic. Eventually, you had decided to skip most of your morning routine, including breakfast, brushing your hair or even putting on a decent outfit. You ran out of your dorm, clutching on to your bag, phone and keys.

Your hair was reasonably alright. It was still in the braid you had made before going to bed, but a lot of hair had fallen out during your slumber. When you looked in the mirror though, you saw that it looked decent so you let it be. Not so much could have been said for your outfit. You kept on the same shirt in which you slept in, which was a slightly oversized grey graphic tee from a random indie concert you had been to ages ago. Unfortunately, it was so cold that you couldn’t just go outside in your shorts, so had to spend a precious minute slipping into a pair of sweatpants that were actually not as bum-looking as you had feared.

Luckily, the walk (or in this situation, run) to the lecture hall was short. So, you survived with only a thick sweater over your arms. 

And so, just like that, you were running through campus. The cold air was piercing your lungs as you inhaled deeply. Each breath started with this whistling sound, as you tried to ignore that pain, and ended in an exhale of a cloud of condensation. Maybe you weren’t in the best shape, but even this horrible experience would not make you sign up for the campus gym. No way. 

You could see the lecture hall doors, the wide wooden panelling already towering over you, and you slowed down. You were trying to catch your breath and composure. As always, the doors were heavy and to add to it, the wood could not handle the temperature, so it was even harder to open them. 

“Oh, let me,” you suddenly heard behind you, almost making you jump. The voice sounded familiar, but it wouldn’t click to a particular face just yet. 

“Thanks,” you breathed out as an arm extended from behind you, clad in a leather jacket, and pushed the door open with ease. You followed the arm up with your eyes and saw how it connected to an actual person. Yes, you definitely recognised him. But what was his name again? 

T- something starting with a T. 

He smiled at you politely, nodding the gesture for you to go inside. 

“Thanks,” you said again, before finally moving. 

“No problem,” he was walking behind you but quickly caught up to your side. You saw in his hand a Starbucks coffee, which almost made your mouth water. 

“Professor Dowling’s lecture, right?” he asked, before taking a sip. Your eyes unconsciously followed the movement as the need for caffeine was growing. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” you shook your head, focusing on anything but the delicious rich smell that you could sense coming from the cup—dark roast. 

“Well, good to know I won’t be the only one late,” he chuckled. Troy? Was that his name? No. He didn’t look like a Troy. 

“We’re not that late,” you checked your phone and cursed internally, “only… nine minutes.” 

“Dowling doesn’t care if it’s nine minutes or nine hours. Late is late.” He took another sip. You had to look away before your stomach realised how empty it really was. 

“True, I guess. Well, it was nice knowing you.” You sighed as you had reached the second door leading to the lecture room. Ty raised an eyebrow. No, his name was definitely not Ty. What was it?!

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, Dowling is gonna kill us, isn’t he?” You explained, and he nodded in agreement. 

He was again the one to slowly and quietly opened the door, giving you insight into the room. You almost yelled out in excitement when you saw that the lights had been somewhat dimmed for a slideshow that the professor was giving. You have Tim (nope, not Tim) a knowing look and smile. You had been saved. Then, the two of you slipped into the room, letting the doors close themself. You saw a few people turn their heads as you walked by together, searching for a seat, but you didn’t think much of it. You would have looked too if someone dared to be late for one of Dowling’s lectures. 

Finally, you found an empty seat. Two, actually. It was in the back of the class, so you hoped that once the lights would go back on, Dowling wouldn’t immediately notice the addition of two more faces. The mystery guy, as you were too tired to think of more names and decided to give up, sat down next to you. He pulled out his laptop and turned it on, quickly putting it on the lowest setting of brightness. Just before he had opened it up, you noticed a few stickers. Between a few references from tv shows and movies, you saw the logo of Delta Kappa. You only recognised it because you had been seeing the logo on almost every notice board the last few days together with the campus-wide invitation for last night’s party. 

So he was a frat boy. 

You looked up to the side at him as you pulled out your laptop and notebook. The notebook was more for doodling than anything. But also to write down some more of the essential or just entertaining parts of the lecture, since you had come to realise that writing things down by hand helped you remember better. 

Your heart stopped beating for a second as you opened your laptop, praying that no embarrassing tabs were open or, even worse, you still had Spotify playing on full blast. But you could let yourself relax when the laptop just showed you your desktop. 

Right then, you could hear your stomach growl of hunger. 

“Here,” suddenly T, as you decided to call him for the time being, slid over his coffee to your small desk. You looked up at him in confusion. He had a cap on, so there was not much you could see in the dark shadow, but you saw his sincere smile. 

You thanked him before grabbing the cup. Since it was Starbucks, you hoped to learn his name finally. But instead, in black marker, was written “Holland”. Last name. Well, that was something.

_________________________________

“Thank you,” y/n said before grabbing the drink, taking a look at the name written on it, and taking a big sip of it, although she quickly pulled it away from her lips, her face distorted in a sour expression. 

“Sorry,” Tom apologised, “my hand had slipped when I was pouring in the sugar.” 

“Yeah, I can tell,” she whispered, still a bit disgusted, but it didn’t stop her from taking another large sip. “How can you drink this stuff?” 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Tom grinned. 

Times weren’t exactly desperate, in his case. 

The party had been a massive success. Everyone seemed to have had a great time, and this time, not even at the cost of any of the frat house furniture. Sure, some people might have thrown up in the cooking pans, but that could be easily cleaned up by one of the pledges. 

It all ended around 2 am, which was fairly early, but it was, of course, a school night. Tom remembered to drink water before going to sleep and woke up with only a mild headache. A few painkillers solved that pretty quickly. He got up, stumbled a bit over the mess around the house and was on his way to class. 

He was sure he would have made it on time if it wasn’t for his usual appetite and need for coffee. Yes, he could have made it at home, but for some reason, the coffee from that machine always tasted like piss. And Tom did not want to find out why. So, it had almost become routine for him to stop by the Starbucks that was on the way from the house to the lecture halls. 

What he had not expected was the giant line of customers inside. More people had felt the need for coffee after a wild night of partying. He recognised some girls, still wearing the same dresses they wore to the party. A few guys who looked like they were on the verge of death were sipping their drinks in the corner of the room. The two baristas were running around behind the counter, trying to make the drinks as fast as possible. As fellow students, they knew that there were a lot of people rushing to get to class, at least. 

Tom had even looked at his phone, checking the time before he decided to step into the queue. He had majorly misjudged the time it would take the baristas to make the few drinks before it was his turn to order. In the meantime, people would walk up to him, also recognising him from the party, to tell Tom what a great time they had last night. 

Finally, he got his drink and made his way over to the second station and poured in some sugar. For that extra kick of energy, but also, secretly, because he could not stand the bitterness of coffee. Then, it was really time to leave the crowd. Tom never really minded people and was definitely what you call a “social butterfly”, but there was always a limit. And the limit on a Monday morning was minimal. Even smaller, if you are still trying to get rid of a hangover. 

He had just reached the main square of campus when he saw the big clock. He was already late, so it wouldn’t do much to run. Professor Dowling did not care for excuses or how late you were, even if it was a second. So he could as well just take his time. 

Others had different ideas apparently.

Tom watched as someone ran across the grass, clutching on to their backpack. She stopped at the same door that he was heading for, so he got to have a good look first. The first thing he saw was the back of her head. Hair made up in a braid that was falling apart. A large black sweater, probably her boyfriend’s, was covering most of her frame. 

She was trying to pull open the door that had the word PUSH on them, but Tom didn’t say anything. It was early, and by the looks of her, not that he was judging, she didn’t have a great morning. 

When they had made eye contact, he recognised her from the lectures but did not think he had ever heard her name being mentioned. Professor Dowling loved interacting with the class, no matter how large, and often called out people to answer his absurd questions. She had never put her hand up to answer. Tom was sure of it; he would have remembered her name. 

It interested him to see her pull out, not only a laptop but also a notebook. Did people even use those anymore? Even the dim light he could see the words scribbled on the cover. The decorative style did kind of make it hard to miss it. 

Property of y/f/n.

So that was her name. Tom couldn’t help but smile to himself. 

Having already missed the first ten minutes, he tried his best to focus on the words of the professor, but some things just couldn’t go unnoticed. 

By the look y/n was giving his coffee cup, he could tell that she had not had any herself and the sound of her empty stomach as they sat next to each other only confirmed his suspicion. So, it only felt like the right thing to do to give her some. And the smile he got in return definitely made it worth it. 

His attention was entirely gone by that point, as he watched her open her notebook. It was filled with little drawings. Some were more distinct than others. There were the classic five-petal flowers and the single mysterious eye with no other entity attached to it—also a few little scratchy tornadoes and random filigree. Patches of just lines and different patterns filled up the corners and extended out to the middle of the pages. Tom also definitely recognised a few attempts at bringing back the Super S in there. 

But what also filled up the page were little characters. She must have drawn them during the lectures around Halloween because he recognised a little witch, stylised to the perfect amount of cuteness. There was also a cauldron of bats flying off to the side. 

Tom could have looked at it for much longer and still find some more doodles in there, but unfortunately, she flipped the page. This one was blank. She took out a pen and started to doodle mindlessly.

First, a straight line, to which she attached little ovals. Lightly, but the lines got darker, the more she went over it. Then she made some more lighter lines across it. It made him chuckle when he recognised what it finally was—a piece of wheat. The way she stopped drawing for a second, Tom thought that she had not realised what she was drawing either. It was just a random coincidence where a few lines suddenly could make up an existing object. Then she continued. 

From time to time she’d stop to make a note somewhere in the middle of the page, something that professor Dowling said that made her giggle. It was adorable to hear. 

“Now, this,” Tom could hear the professor say from his little podium, the two little words shook everybody in the room awake because those they were code for IMPORTANT. As Dowling kept on talking, y/n closed her notebook and pulled her laptop closer to type. Tom had to pull himself together to focus on the actual lecture.

Then the sound of her stomach pulled him out of that. That was followed by the whisper of an angry “fuck”. Tom looked over to y/n again. She was trying to type something out, but her shaking fingers kept pressing the wrong buttons. She was crumbling apart from hunger. 

Crumbling… 

Suddenly, Tom remembered. He leaned down to look in his bag, hoping it was still there. It was.

“Hey,” he nudged her side, making her look up at him once more, with caution. He grabbed the small pack of Oreos and slid them over to her desk. She looked perplexed. Then she pushed the, slightly flat-looking, cookies back to Tom. He frowned. 

“I thought I’m not supposed to be taking candy from strangers.” She whispered. Tom chuckled and pushed the pack of four cookies back to her. 

“Well, good it’s not candy then. Eat. I can tell you’re starving.”

Y/n looked at the Oreos, not sure whether to take them or not, but her stomach answered for her.  She opened her mouth, but then she closed it again and turned away. Tom understood it. It would have been the fourth time she would have said: “thank you”. By now, he got the message. As she opened the packet of cookies, Tom went back to listening to the lecture. 

_________________________________

You hesitated before taking the cookies. Were they some kind of prank? You knew how frat guys loved to pull jokes on everyone, even if they were no better than middle school hijinks or cheesy April fools clichés. But the silver packet, except that it looked a bit flat, seemed to be untouched. Most likely because of getting squashed by something in his backpack. 

You opened it and were immediately hit with the delicious whiff of chocolate. You took out one cookie and didn’t bother with the usual way of splitting it open to eat the filling first. You needed food. Now. Even if it were just four broken Oreo cookies. It was better than nothing.

Obviously, you were still hungry and in need of a proper breakfast, but the small snack helped you hold out for the rest of the lecture. 

But now that your stomach was sorted for, you had another problem concentrating. Your new, still unnamed, friend tended to type very loudly. At first, you looked over in a bit of annoyance, which made you actually notice his hands. There was nothing special about them. They were naturally just hands, but the way he moved his fingers across the keyboard… it made you look back in that general direction a few times more.

Probably because of all these distractions, the usual hour and 45 minutes felt much shorter. Before you knew it, professor Dowling was saying his goodbyes and everyone around you started packing up their things.

Needing to get some food ASAP, you packed up your things and practically ran out of the room. Only as you were nearing the cafeteria did you realise that you had never said goodbye to your snack provider. 

Shit.

_________________________________

“Hey, so I was thinking-” Tom was going to suggest grabbing a bite for breakfast together, being somewhat hungry himself, but when he looked up y/n had already packed her things and was on her way to the stairs, following the other students out the door. 

Tom sank back down into his seat. 

“Any problems, Mr Holland?” Tom’s head shot forward to see professor Dowling looking up at him. When he looked around, he saw he was the only one who had not started packing up. 

“No, everything’s alright, sir,” Tom said before getting up with his laptop. “Great lecture. Learned a lot... and stuff.” 

“Good, good,” Dowling said. His glasses were slipping off his nose slightly, so he pushed them back up with his middle finger. “I did not expect you to have heard anything, by the way you and miss y/n were chatting.”

The professor’s words made Tom’s cheek burn up as he pushed the laptop back into its place in his bag. That man saw everything.Suddenly he felt as if he was in middle school again.

“Try to not make it a habit.” 

“No, sir,” Tom said.

Dowling just nodded, meaning the conversation had ended and giving Tom permission to sprint out of the room. 

He wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry. Maybe he was hoping to find y/n waiting outside the doors. He didn’t even know why he wanted to see her there. He just did. He had this urge just to watch her doodle in that notebook of hers. There was something so endearing about it. 

Alas, no one was waiting for him outside that door. Or even in the proximity of it. There was no one but groups of students making their way from and to class. 

Then, Tom realised that she must have run off to the cafeteria. Still, he decided against going there. As much as he wanted to talk to y/n again, he didn’t want to come off stalkerish. Besides, they’d have another class tomorrow. He could speak to her then. 

“Ayo! Holland!” Tom looked over to a group of people he recognised to be his friends. They were gathered around one of the large windows that was open in the hallway. He waved to them before making his way over. 

“What’s up, man? You looked like a lost puppy.” Jacob said. 

“No nothing, I just zoned out a little, I guess.” Tom shook his head, clearing it off thoughts of y/n. 

“Well, we were thinking,” his best friend and fellow Delta Kappa resident, Harrison joined in on the conversation, “There is this new bar opening next week. The… something- shit, what’s it called again?” He looked over at the rest of the group. 

“The Sterling,” it was Zendaya that answered. She was sitting on the window sill with both legs in front of her, not living much space for anyone else to sit. She had something between her fingers, and Tom could not make out if it were a regular cigarette or a joint. (The smell insinuated at nicotine, so that answered for itself.) The fact that they were on campus did not make much difference to them. She took a drag and blew the smoke out, before handing it to Harrison. 

“So, Holland, you’re in?” 

“Yeah of course.” There’s nothing like the hysteria of drinking yourself sick in some new dingy place across campus. A new one would open up every few months because its predecessor would get shut down after too many accounts of selling alcohol to minors. It had almost become a game for younger students to see how quickly they can destroy a business. Tom and Harrison had been record holders for a while. Five weeks. Tom wasn’t exactly sure how anyone could tell they were the reason for The Six-Ball to close, but it didn’t matter. (“With a name like that, they deserve to shut down,” Harrison had joked before ordering two Long Island Iced Teas.)

Now that they were of the legal drinking age, of course, maybe it wasn’t as fun to go to those shitty holes in the wall, but with the right people, they made it a party every time. 

“Nice! So-” Jacob started talking about how he thought the night had to go, but Tom was already zoned out again. Between Zendaya and Harrison, he had the perfect view of the small grass field. Some people had sat down there with their friends to enjoy the midday, but most people still considered it too cold to sit outside. But what Tom was looking at was behind the grass field. It was the cafeteria doors. He saw that large sweater again. y/n walked out, holding something that looked like a sandwich. Tom smiled to himself. 

“What are you smiling about?” He got nudged in the ribs by someone. 

“Oh, you know, the uhm-” he had no idea what the rest of his friends had been talking about to include in his lie.

“I know,” Harrison said, lounging his arm across Tom’s shoulder to point in the same direction that Tom had been looking at. Tom froze up when he pointed straight at y/n with his finger. 

“Angela Pikowski.” 

“What?” It took Tom a second, but indeed, right in front of y/n, stood Angela with her own group of friends. She laughed at something, whipping her bottle bleached blonde hair across her shoulder. He understood too, how Harrison had caught her so quickly in his vision, for she had her jacket open and her shirt was pretty tight and low cut. How did that girl not catch pneumonia or some shit? 

“You ain't slick, bro.” Harrison patted him on the back. Tom, not wanting to get into it more than he needed, just grinned awkwardly. When he looked out into the square, Angela still stood there, but y/n was gone. 

_________________________________

The campus food was never that good, but it didn’t matter. The feelings of having actual food in your body felt so good that it might as well have been a five-course meal from a three-star Michelin restaurant. While, in reality, it was just a little bacon, egg and salad sub on stale bread. 

It did not matter. 

You enjoyed your breakfast as you walked down the path, back to your dorm. After that horrendous morning, and the pretty… interesting lecture, you were ready to lock yourself up in a room and do nothing but watch Netflix. And thankfully, due to having only one morning class, you could actually do it too.  

You said your polite “Hi”s and “Hello”s as you passed some other people you recognised from other classes. A bit hopefully, you were on the lookout for your (still nameless!) friend from the lecture. You really had to figure out what his name was. 

By the time you had reached your dorm building, your sandwich was gone. A part of you was still hungry, but you ignored that. You were probably just bored anyway. 

The dorm hall was basic in every way, from the carpeted grey floor to the plainly painted walls. But the inhabitants, of course, did try to give it some life. They hung up posters and banners, flags and lights. You reached the door that was decorated with a collage of different 80s glam rock artists and walked into your room. That college had been a little bonding experience with your roommate, Marie, during the very first week of Freshman year.

When you walked in, your eyes were immediately drawn to the lump on one of the beds. A groan erupted from underneath it when you switched on the light. 

“Ruuuude,” Marie yelled out. She came out from beneath the sheets. Her hair was bigger than ever, and you could see the mascara and eyeshadow stains under her eyes, and there was still some glitter on her. 

“You know, you should take off your make-up before going to sleep,” You said as you took off your sweater. 

“You know, you should put some on before leaving the house,” she said before diving back underneath her sheets. 

“Ouch,” you both laughed. But you couldn’t help but take a look in the mirror as you passed it. Maybe you could have used some concealer under your eyes, but it wasn’t that bad. Right? 

The room the two of you lived in maybe wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small either. You were definitely one of the luckier people in the building. Your room, after all, had just enough space for the two beds, desks and closets to mirror each other on each side of the room. You also went the extra way to put up some extra shelving on your side above the bed, since one closet was not enough. 

“Didn’t you have class this morning as well?” you asked as you sat down on. You could hear something coming from Marie that resembled an “Mhm”. Not in the talking mood, got it. 

So, in quiet, you pulled out your laptop and searched for something that did not look mind-numbingly dumb to watch, eventually settling for a show you had probably watched five times out of pure overwhelming of choice. After a while of moving around in your bed, you found a comfortable position at last and turned the show on, ready for a day of uninterrupted laziness. 

_________________________________

Tom got home a bit later than he had hoped. After making plans for the next night, his friends were determined to go out for lunch as well. What he thought would be just a quick grab-and-go, turned out to be a full two-hour lunch where they talked about anything and nothing. 

He loved the company of people, but not on Mondays. Mondays were his day to do nothing except for going to class, and Tom felt like he had already done too much. 

When he did get back, people were still busy cleaning the aftermath of the party. It had gone a bit wilder than Tom remembered. Some jackass had decided to spray paint one of the upstairs hallways, and the colour was not easy to get off. Luckily, it had become almost a custom for all the house members to lock their doors during a party. For privacy sake firstly, but like anything at Delta Kappa, it turned a bit into a game. 

The first two unlock their door, either if the person was too tired to stay at the party or wanted to bring a guest into their room, was obliged to do something horrible. It was up to the rest of the house to decide what. Fortunately for Tom, he had not been the first to unlock his door that night. That luck fell on poor Billy.

Even if it came to be so, the rule didn’t make sense because no one could check who the first one was to open their door and even if- it was not an official Delta Kappa rule. That meant that, even if the person got caught to be the first, they could simply deny the dare. They would be known as Head Chicken, of course, but there were worse things in life. 

Tom moved up the stairs, saying hi to a few of his roommates, feeling very lucky as one of the senior members of the house, he did not have cleaning duty. Most of that was up to the pledges anyway. 

He remembered when he had to do all those tasks and shit to get into the house. It was so stupid; he didn’t even understand why he chose to be in a fraternity, in the first place. 

He did think the other guys had gone a bit softer on himself and Harrison since at the beginning of it all, they had been chosen by the sorority of Alpha Zeta Zeta as the favourites. Still, some unspeakable things had been done that year. 

But now that he lived in a giant house with some of his best friends, it all felt like it was a bit worth it. He had a great time at Delta Kappa. 

One of the best pros, by far, was that he had his own bedroom. Spacious for everything he needed plus a bit more. A large, unmade, bed waited for him when he opened the door. That, and the happy barks of Tessa. 

“Hello, darling,” he bent down to pet her as she jumped to his knees. Tessa was the official mascot of the fraternity, but she had very early on found a great liking to Tom. It only took her a few days to get settled in his room, and from then on, she wouldn’t sleep anywhere else. 

Tom moved up to his bed, and Tessa gladly joined him. She patted down a circle before lying down with her head on his chest, letting out a satisfied huff of air. Even if he wasn’t comfortable, Tom had no way out anymore. He was stuck. With nothing else to do, he took out his phone and went through his notifications.

Some texts from Harrison and Jacob, a missed call from that girl he made the mistake of giving her his number. People were getting Wi-fi again because he got at least twenty different Snapchat pictures and videos from the party. 

What else there was plenty of, were Instagram mentions and tags. He went through the photos, smiling. It really had been a great party. Then, something popped up in his mind. 

Property of: y/f/n 

y/f/n

Could it be that easy? He could just search for her and hope to find her account. He typed it in. Her first name was already enough to get plenty of results. As always the profile pictures were too small to really make out a true identity, so he made his way through the accounts. 

He only needed three tries, though. The picture already resembled her, so with hope, he clicked on the account. 

This account is private. Follow this account to see their photos and videos. 

Tom sighed. Not so easy after all. Then he saw the bio. It was a bit vague, just a few random emojis. But what interested him was the Followed by and the fifteen mutual followers that she had. It couldn’t be anyone else. 

For some unknown reason, his heart was beating in his throat as he clicked on the blue Follow button and watched it turn grey. Now it was just a matter of waiting until his request got accepted. Or maybe denied. Who knows. 

_________________________________

Watching a show for the fifth time got a bit boring. You could still laugh at the jokes, but at the same time, you could also almost flawlessly quote it as the scene went along. So, a few episodes in you took out your phone and started scrolling through various app feeds.

Marie had fallen back to sleep since you could hear her snore in her bed. And you were falling asleep slowly too. It was so warm in your room, and your bed was so soft and comfortable. Your eyes were getting heavier by the second. 

Then a notification popped up, brightening up the screen in your hand. Half-awake, you tried to read it. 

(your account): Tom Holland (@tomholland2013) has requested to follow you. 

Tom? Your mind took a moment to process. Then the face finally clicked to the name. Tom! His name was Tom! 

Without much further thought you accepted the request and before you even put your phone down, you fell asleep. 

_________________________________

Not to sound desperate, Tom waited for a good half hour before rechecking his phone. He clicked on the Instagram app and the search icon. Her account was still the last one from the recent searches he made. Tom clicked on the account and, to his unexplained surprise, he was greeted with a gallery of pictures. 

He had noticed earlier that the count on top of the page said 53 Posts. Interested, he clicked on the first one. It was a picture of a coffee cup. It wasn’t tagged, but Tom recognised it to be from that café Le Moulin. He saw the distinctive black windmill on the napkin that could not be missed. 

He scrolled down. 

It was a selfie from last summer. The filter slightly enhanced her bright smile on the picture, but Tom could tell it was more to show off the warm atmosphere of her holiday destination. The next photo was from the same holiday, he assumed, of her and a group of friends. He recognised the girls from campus. When he tapped the picture for the tags, he saw their names. @tiffani.btx @bonne_marie @lucywithnodiamonds 

He thought to have spotted that Marie chick at the party. She was French if he remembered correctly. She was definitely a wild one. Might have even grinded up against him during one of the better songs that were played. 

There were some more selfies, solo and with friends, sunsets and landscapes. The picture quality got worse as he scrolled down. It matched with the timeline. People should not be keeping up their pictures from seven years ago, especially not with all those fucked up filters they used back then. Tom was, of course, one of those people. 

He scrolled to the last picture; it was of a dog—one of the cutest little labrador puppies. 

Out of nowhere, Tessa barked in her sleep, making Tom jump up. This sudden movement, in its turn, woke the dog up completely. Tessa kept barking. 

“Right, I think it’s time for a walk, what do you think?” He patted Tessa on the head as she tried to lick his arm. Tom got up and was about to leave his room when he realised he almost forgot his phone. The screen hadn’t turned off yet, so he looked at the puppy again. But something was off this time. Something had changed. 

The little blank heart under the image- it was now pink. 

He accidentally liked her oldest picture. 

_________________________________

There were two types of naps. Those that made you feel amazing and refreshed by the time you got up. And those that made you feel like you had fallen asleep on a bed of rocks. You felt even worse than before when you woke up. Your head was throbbing, and your bra had pushed itself into every possible part of your chest, making it that much more uncomfortable. 

“What time is it?” you asked Marie, but she was still asleep. 

The light of your phone almost blinded you, so you quickly put down the brightness. It was around four o’clock. Meaning you had slept for a good three hours. 

Besides the time, you checked your notifications. There were not a lot of them. A few spam emails, a few texts in a group chat you never responded too and… a like on Instagram? 

tomholland2013 liked your photo. 1 h 

You had to think back to the moment before your nap to remember that he had in fact requested to follow you. And you had accepted it. 

You clicked on the notification, and it sent you to the liked picture. To your surprise, it was the picture of your family dog, Spot. Your family had picked the name even though he was a completely yellow labrador, loving the irony. 

It was your first-ever picture, from over seven years ago. Had he been stalking your account? Why the fuck would he do that? 

Well, you thought, it was only fair if I do it too. So, through the like, you made your way over to his account. 

First thing you noticed was the number of followers he had. 15.7k How the fuck do people even get those numbers? Well, it’s easier if you’re a hot frat guy, of course. 

His profile picture was a mirror selfie, and clearly, it was his favourite composition, for at least five out of the first nine pictures in the gallery were the same style. All full-body reflections, with him holding the phone in his right hand, leaning his head a bit to look at the screen as he took the picture. His lips weren’t exactly in a smirk, but there was that cockiness in there. He really was feeling it, that was obvious. 

The first picture was a classic mirror pose- A black jacket and a black hat: the same outfit he had been wearing in class. You looked at the timestamp and saw that he only posted it an hour ago. Already it had dozens of comments and a low thousand amount of likes.

You scrolled down. A denim jacket and beanie in the mirror; a grey t-shirt and sweats in the mirror; a black suit in the mirror, the list could go on. There were other pictures, mostly from the frat house parties and other events where alcohol played a significant role. There were also the occasional front camera selfies. 

You couldn’t help but look at those a little bit longer. There was something about that small tight smile that he made that was so cute. In one of the more saturated pictures, with a deeper shadow, you noticed that his nose actually had a little bump in it, most likely from breaking it in the past. 

But just from likes alone, you could tell that the mirror was a public favourite. 

There was something about the confidence that the pictures portrayed that spoke to you.. He knew he looked good, and no one could deny it. Except, he looked so much better than good. 

It was interesting to be scrolling down his posts because it was like a trip back in time. At first, it didn’t wasn’t that obvious, just maybe a change in temperature during the year that was referenced through his clothing. Then it showed a bit more as his hair started to get shorter by each picture taken. It got shorter and shorter until his hair was not much more than a buzz. The reason for the drastic hair change was explained in the next picture. 

You had already scrolled down four years worth of pictures, and this one was of him (taken by someone else). Tom was standing in a victory stance on a grass field, which you recognised to be the campus square. He was only wearing boxer shorts and on his chest was painted, in bright blue paint, 𝜟K. Underneath the post, read the caption: Delta Kappa babyyy! with a bunch of other hashtags. One that was included was #deltakappapledge #initiated. Of course, it was during his pledge period. 

You kind of hoped that he had to do more than just shave off his hair because he didn’t even look half that bad. It even suited him actually. Hoping to find some more evidence of that embarrassing period, you scrolled on. 

The sound that came out of your mouth as you scrolled to the next picture was inhumane. Keeping to tradition, it was a mirror selfie. Behind him seemed to be some workout equipment, possibly from the campus gym, but no one would look at that. Everyone would be too focused on what was in the foreground. 

It was Tom standing in front of a mirror, chest glistening with sweat as his hair draped in front of his eyes. Instead of the usual pose, he stood sideways, showing off not only his flexed bicep as he took the picture, but also the outline of all his other muscles.

Completely forgetting what you were doing, you double-tapped the post. How could you not? Only a second later, did your monkey brain realise what you had done. You had made that exact same mistake as Tom. Except while he had liked a picture of a cute dog, you had made your mark on a shirtless selfie.

As the pure humiliation flooded over you, you threw your phone to the other end of the bed with a squeak. 

What’s done was done. 

_________________________________

Tom came back from the walk with Tessa after an hour. They both enjoyed a long walk around the park neighbouring the campus, just to then pretend like they were too exhausted and lay in bed the rest of the day. Well, Tom pretended. Tessa seemed legitimately tired. 

They went back to their position on the bed. Not sure what else to do, Tom got back to Instagram. There was no reaction to his accidental like yet. Not even a follow back from y/n. A bit rude but okay, maybe she hadn’t seen it yet? 

He shook his head. He didn’t like this weird side of him. Where had it even come from? Since when did he wait for anyone to respond to him? And they weren’t even having a conversation! 

Having nothing else to do, he searched through his phone gallery for a good picture to post. He chose one he had taken during lunch, on his way from the bathroom. It was still crazy that his friends wanted to go to a place where you needed to take an elevator to go to the toilet. 

He didn’t care for editing, so he went through the usual Instagram process of making a post, thought of some dumb caption and send it out into the internet. Soon enough, as if they had a notification on for his activities, the likes streamed in.  For the first few minutes, he tried to look through them, again hoping that y/n would be one of the likes or the heart eyes emojis in the comments, but quickly it became too much, and Tom couldn’t keep up. He still enjoyed reading the comments.

Of course, it was all one big ego boost. The praise and compliments, even if it was for something as shallow as his looks, definitely gave him a good kick of dopamine and all those other happy chemicals during the day. 

Tessa was snoring and drooling on his belly as Tom went through his timeline and explore page. There was not much exciting happening in peoples’ lives, but it made the time flow by faster. An hour had gone by probably when he decided to recheck his activities. His new picture already had a few thousand likes and was close to reaching a hundred comments.  He went through some of them and either liked them or responded with a matching emoji. 

But as he scrolled through the activity, he saw a like that was to a different picture. A rather old one too, just from the beginning of college. And who might have liked this picture? y/n 

She liked a workout selfie, huh?

With the confidence that the like gave him, Tom clicked on her account and the message button. He thought about what to send for a moment but decided against overthinking it and went with a simple- 

_________________________________

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Hi 

You looked at the notification for a while. He definitely saw you had liked his old picture. Was he going to make fun of you? Tease you how you had outed yourself for thirsting over him? 

But maybe he just wants to talk? You tried to sound optimistic to yourself. After all, he did like an old picture of yours too. You were kind of in the same boat.   

Putting all worries aside, you clicked on that damn nerve-wracking notification, and without much more thought send out the reply. 

(y/n)

Hey :) 

Before you could even send out the smiley, the message rose to reveal “SEEN” beneath it. Was this happening? Was it? You could see he was typing. 

(tomholland2013)

After stalking me you could have at least followed me back lol 

(y/n)

Right sorry just a lot of mirror selfies. Thought i’d seen everything there is to see 😂

(tomholland2013)

Rude Seen anything you like though? ;)

Uhhh, of course, you have. You liked it. A lot. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. 

(y/n) 

No not really 

Quickly change the subject. 

So what are you up to? 

Good enough subject? 

(tomholland2013) 

Just lying in bed with Tess

Tess? Who was Tess? Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, he would have posted something on his Instagram, right? That’s what couples did? Unless it was just a one time fling. You couldn’t even call it a one-night stand since it wasn’t even night. 

Wait, why did you even care about that? You had literally only said hello to each other and shared a coffee during class. 

But the curiosity was gnawing at you.

(y/n) 

Tess? 

(tomholland2013)

Yeah, she’s falling asleep on my chest. Kinda tired her out lol

You looked at the text, unsure how to respond, or even if to do it. Was he telling you about his hookup?  It didn’t sound like the nice guy you had met in front of the lecture hall, and that gave you his leftover coffee and Oreos. Your face wrenched into a grimace, not sure anymore what to make of this conversation or of what had happened during class.

He was typing again. 

Wanna see? 

Jesus Christ, this was a mistake. You didn’t respond, but he still sent you a picture anyway. It was a timer, unfortunately, meaning you had to click on it to see what he had sent. But he could see you got the message and that you were online. The longer you took, the more prominent you would make it that something was wrong, and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He had given you his coffee. 

The curiosity got the better of you once again, though, and you clicked on the little bomb. What popped up was almost what you expected- but at the same time, so not. Before your brain properly processed what you were looking at, you were scared that he had sent you an unsolicited dick pic, but it was the furthest thing from that. 

What you saw was a POV shot of his chest and legs. He was indeed lying on his bed. On his chest, however, was the head of a grey silver dog. “Tess” had her eyes closed peacefully as she slept on. 

Of course, it was a dog. 

You decided to be honest. For the benefit of the conversation, if anything. 

(y/n) 

Omg 💀 

(tomholland2013)

We just came back from a long walk, so she’s pretty knackered  What?  Did you think I meant something else? 

Embarrassment kicked in anyway. 

(y/n) 

No... lol 

(tomholland2013)

You sooo did lmao Jealous much ;)

(y/n) 

Of the dog maybe

(tomholland2013) 

Cause she gets to be here with me? 

(y/n)

No I meant it like  She’s so cute  I want one

(tomholland2013)

Relax  I was just messing with you  But if you ever wanna come over

(y/n) 

Maybe another time 

The response came out in a panic. Had he invited you for what you thought he did? No, there was no way he did. Besides, you couldn’t go to his house. You barely knew the guy- your mind kept on whirring about it. But the conversation continued.

Soon the sun had gone down, and it got dark outside, but the messages kept coming in. At one point Marie finally woke up from her hangover slumber. Drowsily she got up and headed for the shower with a towel and toiletries bag in her hand. Before she left, though. She asked you if you could prepare something to eat for dinner since she was starving. You being you, agreed.

(y/n)

Hey, I think I gotta go for a bit. Gotta make dinner for my roommate

(tomholland2013) 

What’s on the menu? 

(y/n) 

Probably spicy ramen? 

(tomholland2013) 

Damn. sounds good But can’t she make it herself? 

_________________________________

A part of Tom wanted to send another message. I want to keep talking to you. But that felt like a bit much. She was typing again anyway. 

(y/n) 

Because she’s still hungover from your party lol Thank for that btw 

(tomholland2013) 

You make it sound like i am personally responsible 

(y/n) 

Well your the only guy from DK i know so  you’re**  💀fml. There go my chances of an english degree 

(tomholland2013) 

Nah babe YOU’RE good ;)

 _________________________________

Your heart fluttered at the little word, for no reason. It was just a text message. He probably called every girl he texted that. Still, the sentiment was there. Also that winky face of his. Could he stop? 

He started to type again. 

(tomholland2013) 

But if you ever wanna meet the other guys, you really are welcome to come over. 

(y/n) 

I’m good thanks. 

Going to a frat house alone? You felt like that could easily be the start of your personal horror movie. It would absolutely crash at the box office, but that didn’t matter. And it was the second time he invited you to come over. If it was a hint, it wasn’t a subtle one. It didn’t stop you from doubting it.

(tomholland2013)

No need to be scared. They’re pretty chill dudes. 

It was cute how he could read your mind because you were undoubtedly scared, but what he probably did not think was that you weren’t interested in meeting any other frat guy because there was only one on your mind at the moment. 

(y/n) 

Maybe another time  ttyl? 

You had sent the last message in the hopes that he had as much fun talking to you as you did with him. You watched eagerly as the three dots danced around on the screen while he typed out his answer. 

(tomholland2013)

 Absolutely

_________________________________

Tom turned his phone off with a smile covering his face. He had just spent talking a good two hours to y/n, and he had to admit, he hadn’t had that pleasant of a conversation with anyone in a long time. It was just so easy to talk to her. It might be partly because it was only texts. But still, she was funny, sweet, and so pretty...

Unbeknown to himself, he was falling a little bit for y/n. Although, maybe he did feel it coming. The idea of getting another text from her made his face heat up. The idea of seeing her in class the next day almost made him… giddy. And it’s only been a day. 

“Hey, man,” there came a knock on his door. “Better hide anything that would make it awkward between us cause I’m coming inside in 3-2-1-” 

“‘S all good,” Tom said right as Harrison walked through the door. 

“We’re gonna order pizza, what do you want?”

“Just the usual, I guess,’ Tom shrugged. Honestly, he didn’t really feel like eating pizza but to be the only one that wasn’t having any wasn’t a good strategy either. 

“Alright, then.” As quickly as he walked in, Harrison was also leaving the room. But he peeked his head through the door once more before actually walking away. 

“Hey, are you sure you’re good?” Harrison looked at him through narrow eyes.

“Yeah,” Tom answered as he prodded himself to sit up. “Why?” 

“I don’t know… Nevermind.” And with that, Harrison left to share Tom’s order. 

It was a rare occasion that all the house members would be at home on a night that wasn’t reserved for a party. That night, when it came to dinner, it was around 8 of them. Everyone was already sitting on the couches when Tom came downstairs to grab his pizza. He grabbed a chair and his box and sat down. A football game was playing on tv, and it made Tom roll his eyes. He still had no real idea of how football was supposed to work. He always preferred golf or basketball, or even baseball. 

The guys cheered at a touchdown or whatever but all Tom could focus on was his phone. He kept checking if there were any notifications from y/n. So far, there was nothing. She was probably busy, he told himself, not wanting to feel too disappointed. 

 _________________________________

“So who were you texting back then?” Marie said as she slurped on her noodles. You were playing around with your own portion a bit, not really in the eating mindset.

“Huh? No one.” you shook your head.  

“So it is someone. C’mon. Who is it?” She extended her leg to poke yours. She kept going until you finally gave in. 

“Just this guy from Dowling’s class.” you finally took a bite of ramen. 

“Aaand does this guy have a name?” Marie kept on asking. 

You looked up from your cup of noodles. “Tom… Holland.” 

Marie gasped, almost dropping her food onto her lap. “Tom Holland? As in Delta Kappa Tom Holland?’ you nodded your head yes. “No fucking way.” 

“What?” Not the most nuanced reaction, but it would do. 

“No way you have a crush on Tom fucking Holland.” You always noticed that when Marie cursed her French accent would show up again. Just the slightest bit. This time, however, what you stayed on was her statement. 

“I do not!” you said as your cheeks were heating up. 

“Ohhh, you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said ‘nobody’. Everybody knows that ‘nobody’ is code for either crush, boyfriend, or drug dealer. And I think we can exclude the last option.” you were going to protest, but you would have only been fooling yourself. 

“So, hypothetically, let’s say I do have a crush on him. Why did you scream out ‘No way’?” You bit your lip, a bit scared for an answer. 

“No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” Marie put down her ramen on her desk and came to sit down next to you on your bed. “I didn’t mean that you, like, don’t have a chance with him. Please, if anything, you’re too good for him.’ you both chuckled. “I just didn’t think he’d be your type.” 

“What, hot?” You raised an eyebrow to which she slapped your shoulder. 

“You’re being difficult. I mean, so… out there. You know, he’s basically the leader of that frat house, he always parties, always has stuff to go to. And you’re… well, pretty much the exact opposite. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Completely not. I just don’t want you to put yourself in any positions that you’re uncomfortable with to impress him or anything. Remember, you are too good for him.” 

“Thanks.” you hugged her from the side. “But don’t you think that it would be good for me to go out once in a while? Out of my comfort zone?”

“Sure, if you’re actually doing it for you. Not some guy.” 

“He is really nice, you know.” you smiled, remembering what had happened that morning. You went on telling Marie about it. 

“Oh, so he’s got a crush on you too, huh? That works out perfectly. ” She finally said when you were done telling your story. You looked at her with wide eyes. 

“What? Noooo,” you said, letting an awkward laugh escape through the no. 

“Fine, whatever,” Marie moved back to her own bed and grabbed her cup of ramen. “But I bet you that if you check your phone now, you’ll have at least one message from him.” 

You rolled your eyes again but grabbed your phone either way. And, fair enough, you had two notifications from ten minutes ago. 

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Heyy

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: I hope the ramens good

Holding in your smile, and ignoring the smart ass comments of Marie, you replied quickly. 

(y/n)

It was :)

_________________________________ 

The speed at which Tom checked his phone when he felt the vibration in his pocket could have caused someone severe whiplash. He responded to the text and got up. Ultimately, he had hoped that he could slip out the room unnoticed, but he never got what he wanted, did he? 

“Where are you going?” It was Dave that saw him get up. Tom stopped in his tracks like a little kid that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“Just up to my room. Feelin’ a bit tired.’ He explained. This answer received several strange and confused looks, but Tom ignored those and just walked upstairs without saying another word. He plopped down onto his bed. Tessa was still downstairs under the table chewing on some pizza crusts, so he was finally alone. 

The texting continued through the whole night, and Tom had wholly lost the sense of time. He didn’t even feel tired. If it wasn’t for y/n saying that she was about to fall asleep, he wouldn’t at least. Like that, the windshield crashed, and he felt the fatigue from the hours of messaging and staring at a screen overwhelm him. He just about managed to send out goodnight before his eyelids were too heavy to open up again. 

_________________________________

The next morning you woke up feeling much better than either time the day before. Fresh and energised, with plenty of time to get ready before class started. Not that you really put much effort into how you looked for the morning lectures. It was more mental preparation. With enough time to eat breakfast, shower and brush your teeth, you felt excellent walking out the door. Dressed in a sweater that was warmer than two jackets and some loose jeans. With your bag over your shoulder. 

You always thought the walk from your dorm to the lecture halls was delightful. The path leading toward it was enveloped in a tunnel of trees, and during the end of the year, when the leaves were turning into their auburn and golden shades, it almost felt warmer than in summer. Because the harsh wind still kept up with its schedule. It blew in your face as you walked, rubbing against your cheeks. 

When you got there, the lecture hall was still relatively empty. Only a few other people had taken their seats. This was the crucial moment of choosing your seat. Against all your own instincts, you walked down to the bottom of the auditorium, into the fourth row. You had never sat that closer to professor Dowling’s podium, too scared you would be too easy to notice and called to answer a question. But something in you told you to be brave. 

Besides, you had the idea that Tom wasn’t eager to sit there either.

As much as those butterflies in your stomach fluttered at his mention, you didn’t want to talk to him now, not during class. You needed to pass this class badly and to do that, you needed to focus. Something you could not do with him sitting next to you. 

That’s what you told yourself. It was, of course, true, but the bigger problem was that you were scared. Tom sounded like a nice guy, a very good looking nice guy, but Marie’s words played in your head. He was from a completely different world. And it was a scary one. Why not keep a bit of a safe distance at first?

So, you kept your head buried in your notebook as people started to stream into the room. One by one, the seats around you were getting occupied—none of them by Tom, for better or for worse. 

_________________________________

It had taken Tom a while to find y/n. He walked into the room, thinking he had come in with plenty of time to spare, but as he was making his way down the steps, the professor was already making his way to the podium. Tom tried to look around the room as quickly as he could, but he could not see her. Where was she? 

Professor Dowling coughed loudly, indicating for everyone to shut up and sit down, so he could start the lecture. Tom took the first empty seat he saw. An aisle seat somewhere around the 8th row. The course started, but Tom’s eyes stayed on the seats, looking for that braid. 

It wasn’t a brilliant plan, because he had no idea if she had actually kept that braid in for another day. And she had not, in fact. He noticed her, sitting somewhere at the bottom of the class, as she grabbed her hair and was pulling it up into a bun. She did it so quickly, so smoothly, without ever letting her attention get away from her. Focused on the class. He could really learn something from her. 

And he tried to take a page from her book as he finally looked ahead of him to see Dowling write an entire essay on the blackboard. He cursed himself and quickly started to type everything over. His fingers went in fully automatic mode, and he had no more idea what the words he was typing actually meant. 

His mind had wandered off once again. He couldn’t stop feeling that disappointing pull at his heartstrings. He had hoped they could have had a repeat of yesterday. She apparently thought differently. Or maybe she had hoped he would sit next to her, but he was just too slow? 

The lecture went on forever, felt like. Tom’s fingers were cramping up from typing so much, and he could feel his back beginning to hurt in the uncomfortable chair. He kept stealing quick glances at y/n, hoping to catch her in doing the same, but she had not moved once. 

He had to get a grip. They had known each other for one day, spoken maybe ten sentences to each other in person. The rest was all through text. And nothing was the same via messages. Maybe all his feelings were coming from the entirely wrong place? Perhaps she was just polite, and he had misinterpreted it for casual flirting? Besides, there was that sweater of hers yesterday- what if she had a boyfriend? 

But a part of him still wanted to ignore all those signs and go for it. So, when the bell rang, and professor Dowling finally dismissed the class, Tom made sure he was one of the first ones outside. The large hall had two exits, so he stood against a wall, somewhere in the middle between both doors, hoping to catch y/n as she was walking out. 

The loud rumbling of thunder caught his attention momentarily. 

It was just a second, he swore to himself. But the second was enough to miss her. Somehow she had escaped him, nowhere to be found.

_________________________________

You had seen Tom waiting out in front of the room, and you felt horrible for walking the exact opposite direction. For the sake of your own feelings, you didn’t look back at any point on your way to your second lecture. 

As Professor Phillips spoke, you felt your phone vibrate. 

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: where are you? :) 

The little smiley made heat up in the cheeks, but you tried to ignore that as you typed out a response. You didn’t even click the notification to go to the app, just responded through the shortcut. 

(y/n): had another class

Another notification popped up not long after. 

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: wanna meet up later? 

(y/n): ngl I don’t feel well, will probably head back home right after

(y/n): but i’d love to chat

You shut off your phone, too scared to see the reply. Maybe it wasn’t the best move since you could not think about anything else for the remainder of the class. When you checked your phone again on your way back to the dorms your heart was lifted. 

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: of course. hope you feel better <3

_________________________________

Tom tried to think that she wasn’t avoiding him. After all, they texted almost every possible second that they had the time for the past week

They had talked about pretty much anything and everything. And it felt great. The way they spoke to each other, or at least Tom to her, was as if they had known each other for ages. 

Tom only wished he could do that with her from across a table, or a on a bench. Where ever, he didn’t care. He wanted to be able to look into her eyes as they talked and see her smile. Hear that lol and not just imagine it. 

Unfortunately, y/n was kind of giving him the cold shoulder in the real life. She ignored him during classes, and was gone before he could get the chance to talk to her. Whenever he asked if they could meet, she’d give him some reason she couldn’t. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had actually already met in real life, he had vary valid reasons to think he was being catfished. 

Another reason could have been that she sounded too perfect.

It was the next Tuesday already, and Tom was waiting eagerly for the lecture to end. It had been a full week and he had decided, while copying some of Dowling’s notes, that he would talk to y/n today. After class. 

Tomorrow would be the opening of the Sterling and he wanted to ask her if she wanted to come.Or at least to know if she wanted to hang out ever. If the truth came to be no, he would be fine with that. He respected that. He just needed to know. It wouldn’t take away from the fact how great it was to have someone to talk to, even if it was only through text bubbles.

The bell rang and Tom sprinted out. He kept his eyes on both doors as best as possible and finally saw her. 

_________________________________

“Hey, y/n!” you heard your name being called from behind you. It was from Tom. He waved to you so would come over. Taking a deep breath, you decided to wave back, but your legs were frozen in place.

You felt absolutely terrible for ignoring him and denying his various invitations to hang out or to go anywhere, but it was just too terrifying. You were scared of fucking it up. Of it to turn out to be one big joke. You had heard of frat guys using dates and hookups as dares and shit. You didn’t want that. You couldn’t let that happen.

But when you saw Tom smile at you, those worries suddenly disappeared and your legs moved without connecting to your brain. Suddenly, you found your spot next to him.

He had been leaning against the wall with one foot, his arms crossed. You decided to lean against it with your shoulder. Even though you had your sweater, you could feel the grizzly texture of the bare red brick. He smiled and mirrored your movement, so you were only a few inches apart. ,

“Hey,” he said, still with the smile on his face. 

“Hey,” you replied. 

Tom uncrossed his arms to brush his fingers through his hair. As you watched him do so, you couldn’t help imagine how it would feel to play with his hair. It looked so soft. 

“I just wanted to say,” he licked his lips. You were so close to each other that you could see how pink and chapped they were. Focus. “How much fun I had the past week. It’s bee really great talking to you.” 

“I had fun too,” you said. It really was nice talking to Tom. Especially now, standing so close to him, you could smell the coffee he had consumed that morning. Was it pumpkin spice? You felt stupid for not letting it happen sooner.

“Great, that’s- that’s really great to hear. I said great already, didn’t I?” He laughed, shaking his head, “Anyway, I was thinking: a couple of friends of mine are going to the opening of this new bar, the Sterling, it’s probably going to be a bit boring, but I thought, maybe you’d like to come? With me?” He looked at you with those big brown eyes. Your mind started racing a million miles an hour at his words. The fuzzy warm feeling that you got from looking at his smile was dispersing and setting in for anxiety.

He wanted you to go to a bar with him and his friends? Would that be considered a date? For the sake of your dignity, you decided against asking for clarification. It didn’t matter. You couldn’t go to some dingy bar with strangers, even if one of them was Tom. You could already feel your body heating up in anxiety as all the horrible scenarios played out in your head. 

You realised you had been quiet for a while and Tom was still looking at you hopefully. 

“No,” you blurted out. “I mean, I can’t. Sorry.” 

“Oh, that’s fine. Totally. Maybe another time? Or if you don’t wanna go there, we could go somewhere else?” 

“Uhh,” you couldn’t breath. All his suggestions were so sweet, but it felt too overwhelming to answer. Thankfully, the clock tower at the other end of campus rang and indicated the quarter of an hour. Your next class would soon start, and it was about a five-minute walk to get to. 

“I have to go.” you pointed back and started walking, but Tom grabbed your hand gently, just enough by your fingertips. 

“Sorry, I just- if you don’t want to hang out with me, that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend to like me, no hurt feelings. I don’t want you to-” 

“I do, Tom,” you told him with a compassionate smile. Then you looked back at the clock. “But I really got to go.” 

“Right, sorry.” he let go of your hand, and you ran off to your next course. 

 _________________________________

“Who was that?” 

As soon as y/n ran off, Tom heard the voice coming from next to him. Zendaya popped up out of nowhere, an unlit cigarette hanging between her lips as she leaned in the same spot y/n had. 

“Just a friend,” Tom shrugged. That’s what they were, after all. If even. He hoped he could describe someone he had mainly only spoken through texts with as a friend. 

“You sure about that?” Zendaya smirked. “Cause by the looks of it, she’s got you pretty hooked. You were basically begging her to go out with you, bro.” 

“Yeah, well, forcefulness isn’t exactly an aphrodisiac, is it?” he sighed then almost turned pale at the words he had said. Zendaya didn’t say anything, just nodded and took out her glittery lighter. 

“Could you not?” Tom pulled the cigarette out of her mouth before she could light it and put it in his pocket. “We’re inside, for fucks sake.” 

“Fine, but tell me who this friend of yours is.” She nodded her head back into the direction that y/n ran in. 

“I don’t really know. I mean I do, but- Basically we met last week before class. Then I found her on Instagram and DM’d her-” 

“You slid into her DMs? Bro,” she laughed. 

“Call it what you want, it was the only way of reaching her I had.” 

“Fine, so you like her, yeah?” 

“I guess.” Tom didn’t like sharing his feelings. It put him in this vulnerable position that he was not used to. Zendaya knew that, yet still she pushed him to do it almost every time they talked. 

“For what it’s worth, I think she likes you too,” she said. 

“How so?” he questioned hesitantly. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Zendaya had pulled that trick on him to date someone. And it had not ended well. 

“Well, body language for one, she felt comfortable enough around you to stand close to you, facing you; she smiled at your rants which, props to her, is hard to do.” 

“How long had you been watching us, exactly?” Tom asked a bit freaked out. Zendaya ignored the question.

“Believe me, she likes you. She’s just scared.” she pulled out another cigarette from her pocket, “also, taking a girl to a shithole like the Sterling for your first date? I’m glad she said no. Set some standards, man.” And with that lovely comment, she walked away. She didn’t have to see Tom flipping her off, she knew he would do it, and she replied lovingly in the same way. 

That’s what you got for being friends with psychology majors. 

 _________________________________

The first thing you did after walking out of your second class was to check your phone if you had received any messages from Tom. There was nothing. So you decided to message him yourself. 

(your account) 

Hey  Sorry I ran away like that  And basically anytime after class and making those dumb excuses not to meet up Just so you know I do really wanna hang out with you I’m just not really great with crowds or with places like bars and stuff And ive also never really been asked to go anywhere with anyone, like personally  Idk why im telling you this. I’m definitely rambling Texting is definitely easier than talking huh Sorry for all this 

It took Tom two minutes to see your messages and to respond.

(tomholland2013)

It’s totally okay. I get it And sorry if i made you uncomfortable with all that.  Can i come to your place tonight? Or how about we go to Le Moulin?

Le Moulin. You had been there before. You could do that. With trembling fingers of excitement, you replied

(your account) 

Deal. Around 7?

(tomholland2013)

Sounds perfect. See u then 

 _________________________________

Tommo: Hey guys, sorry but im gonna have to skip on tonight 

This short message was seen and very much not appreciated by his friends. None of the replies could be seen as appropriate for day-time television. Except for the one Zendaya had sent him through their personal chat. It was simple, 

Z: 👍

With the entire afternoon off, Tom made sure he looked somewhat decent for the night. He took a shower. Washed his hair and made sure it was extra soft. He wasn’t sure what y/n thought of it, but from past experiences, he knew that usually, girls loved his hair. Thinking about other girls was probably not the best mindset, though. Still, his hair did look really good. He brushed his fingers through it. 

It had not yet stopped raining, which was a bit of a problem, but he hoped she wouldn’t mind getting a bit wet. For the sake of it, he took an umbrella with him. Luckily it wasn’t very windy, so it actually came to good use. The walk from the frat house to the dorm that y/n said she lived in wasn’t too far away, and fortunately on the way to the place he had in mind to take her to. 

On his way over, he thought about what Zendaya had told him. 

Was y/n scared? Of what? 

They had talked about that kind of stuff briefly, during the weekend, and she and said that she suffered from anxiety. Tom just thought it was stuff like giving a presentation in class. He hadn’t even thought about the more social aspect of it. And here he was pushing all those things at her like going to some bar with strangers. Jesus, why did he have to be such a dumbass? 

The dorm complex had a buzzer system like a regular apartment complex, so he searched for her name on the long list, and pressed the button next to it. 

“Hello?” It was her roommate, Marie, that answered. 

“Hey, it’s Tom. I’m here to pick up y/n.” He could hear some indistinct giggling coming from the other side of the line. 

“Of course, c’mon up. But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit.” Next followed the buzzer, and the doors opened for him. The number on the button said 54, so he assumed it had to be on the fifth floor. When he walked up to the door with that number, he was greeted with a colourful collage of rock bands whose hair was probably more impressive than their vocal range, which said a lot considering Queen was on it. 

He knocked and waited for someone to open. y/n was the one to do it. She stood frozen in the door, only a towel wrapped around her body. 

“I thought we said seven?” she said, her voice a bit higher than usual.

“It’s quarter past seven!” Marie shouted out from inside the dorm. y/n cursed. 

“Shit, sorry, I lost complete track of time. Give me ten minutes, okay?” she held up a finger so he would wait here. Tom nodded and let her close the door again. He could still hear her yell at Marie as to why she had not told her she was running late, to which Marie only responded with hysterical laughter. 

“Holland?” someone in the hallway asked a few minutes later. Tom turned in the direction to see a guy with a head full of bed hair poke out of his doorway (which was covered in pictures of death metal posters and my little ponies). He stepped out in the hallway to reveal he was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny and tight briefs, leaving little to the imagination. 

“Oh hey… Crocker,” he called the guy by his preferred nickname. 

“Hey man, what are you doing here?” Crocker asked. The way his eyes were almost ruby red and the stench coming from his room, Tom presumed that the guy was higher than a kite. 

“Oh you know, waiting for a date, heh.” He said a bit awkwardly, pointing back to door 54. 

“Ah, getting some of that French jay nehsuh gwaa.” 

Tom looked confused. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard someone butcher a language that badly. Well, probably, but he didn’t remember it. He kind of understood what Crocker meant, though.

“No, I’m here for y/n. Not Marie.”

“Damn? Really.” Crocker started to giggle, which might as well just have been a side effect from whatever he had smoked up in his room. 

“Yeah?” He wasn’t sure how else to react. Crocker just shrugged and walked back into his room, smashing the door closed. Tom turned slowly, not sure what exactly had happened just then. And he turned right on time too, because the door of dorm 54 opened and y/n walked out. Wearing a raincoat over a sweater and jeans. She also had a pair of black ankle boots on. Tom could not help but smile at the sight of her. 

“Sorry about that,” she said, the nervousness in her voice was unmistakable. 

“First,” Tom spoke, remembering one of his earlier worries from days ago, “you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?” The question made her laugh.

“I very much do not. Why did you think that?” 

“The sweater you wore when we met. It had that whole stole-it-from-my-boyfriend vibe.” 

“No, I haven’t had anyone to steal clothes from in a long time.” she shook her head. Tom extended his hand for her to take, which she gladly did. It felt amazing.

“So what will you be ordering?” 

“Ice cream,” Tom answered, almost matter-of-factly. 

 _________________________________

“Ice cream?” you asked to make sure you had heard him correctly. He nodded in agreement. “Don’t you think it’s a bit cold for that?” 

“No.” He said bluntly, which really sold the case for you. You were on your way again.

You could hear the rain pound against the main door before you even reached the ground floor, and it only got harder and louder the nearer you got. Tom, being a true gentleman, opened the door for you, but you were a bit hesitant to walk outside. 

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” he let you hold the door so he could step through the threshold and push open the umbrella. You noticed it was a Delta Kappa umbrella. They really made merch of everything. As he put the umbrella up, he extended his arm for you to intertwine yours through. Then, you walked. 

Though it was relatively early, the sky was pitch black because of how early the sun set those days and the dark clouds that had been pestering the sky that entire day. Not a star was to be seen. The rain tapped heavily against the umbrella, and you tried to stay as close to Tom as possible. The excuse, of course, was to not get wet but really you wanted to enjoy the warmth that he was giving off. At one point you had changed position from just having your arm over his, to him wrapping his arm over your shoulder. 

You walked down a brightly lit path, so you could see everything around you. The trees, the cars passing by, the building. So, when you saw the little café at the end of the street, you squealed. 

While there were plenty of bars, pubs and clubs to go to around town, so there were restaurants and cafés. And while restaurants really weren’t your thing, you loved to sit in one of the cosy coffee shops with a cup of tea or coffee and read a good book. Another fun thing about all those places was that they were very internationally orientated, speaking to the wide variety of students that the university had. Le Moulin was of course based on a Parisian café. You had actually found it together with Marie, in hopes she could have something that felt a bit closer to home. Though it didn’t come close to the real magic of the French capital, it still had plenty of its charm in it. Not to mention, the pain du chocolats were to die for! 

Yet, you had never actually had ice cream from their menu. 

You still weren’t sure if today would be the day for it. By the time you wear under the little entrance roof, you were freezing, and so was Tom, visibly. 

“Are you still sure about the ice cream?” you asked him as he closed the umbrella.

“Hot chocolate?” he suggested, suddenly fluent in your love language: chocolate and hot drinks (it was a very simplified version of said love language). 

This time Tom got to be the real gentleman as he let you walk inside first. He dropped the umbrella in the stand, together with a few others. When you looked around the café, you saw that a few more couples were enjoying the cosiness. A sweet melody was playing from the speakers. The rain had also softened outside, and together with the vintage sounds of guitar and vocals, it gave the perfect atmosphere for the night.

You had barely stepped inside when one of the waiters walked up. He smiled and said: “Your table is ready,” which surprised you, but Tom took you by the hand, and you both followed the waiter to one of the tables next to the wall, where one side had a couch instead of the usual chairs. You sat down first, taking off your jacket. Tom was going to sit opposite you, but now it was your turn to grab his hand. 

“Slide in.”

He smiled and sat down. He probably didn’t need any convincing and just wanted to hear you say that you wanted him to sit next to you. You didn’t mind that. 

“Should I prepare the order?” the waiter asked as you made yourself comfortable, again confusing the hell out of you. 

“Actually, scrap that. We’ll have two large hot chocolates.” Tom said. 

“With cinnamon!” you added. 

“One with cinnamon.” Tom corrected. The waiter nodded and walked off. 

“Don’t like cinnamon?” you quizzed, to which Tom shrugged. 

“It’s alright, just not a big fan.” Both of you looked around the room. You had never been in the café at night, so you hadn’t even realised that the walls were covered in soft gold lights, giving it all that much more the feeling as if you had stepped into a fairytale. 

“I didn’t know this place took reservations.” 

“I’m not sure either,” Tom replied, you noticed he had his arm draped around you again, “I just called to be sure.”  

“Really?” That split you up into two. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that he had made a special call to the café to get, probably, the best seat in the house. On the other side, you were freaking out for a few reasons. He had put in quite the effort in an almost last minute notice of plans, while you were fifteen minutes late. That was embarrassing enough. And this reservation basically put you in a spotlight for the entire business, which was really not ideal. You didn’t want to be noticed. 

“Hey,” he whispered and squeezed his grip around you lightly, “everything okay?” 

“Huh? Mhm,” you nodded your head and smiled, trying not to think about how the waiters might be judging you. 

“I saw you had posted a picture from this place on your Instagram, and I used to come here a while back, so I thought it would be cool, but if you don’t like it-” 

“It’s perfect,” you made up your mind. In the end, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. You felt safe, sitting on the little couch, next to Tom. 

Soon after, the waiter came back with two mugs of hot chocolate. When Tom ordered large ones, they delivered. The mugs might as well have been cereal bowls, topped with a peak of whipped cream and cocoa powder, and a cinnamon stick in your cup to distinguish the two drinks. 

“Et voila!” the waiter put the cups down. You thanked him, and he was gone again.

There were spoons, but you decided to stir your chocolate with the cinnamon stick. 

Still with his arm around you, Tom took his mug up to his lips. With the feeling of having him so close to you, you wondered what this really was. What if he just wanted to be friends and spend some time with you? Had he noticed how sad and lonely you were, and did he want to take his pity out on you? Were you a charity act for him? God, you hoped not. You really really hoped not.

“Tom?” You looked at him, to see his eyes dart in your direction. His top lip was covered in whipped cream. You gestured it to him, slightly giggling, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. How was someone that hot, so adorable? 

“You were saying?” he said, putting the mug down on the table in front of you.

“I was just wondering,” Be quick, get it over with, you’ll feel better when you say it. “is this a date?” 

“Do you want it to be? It doesn’t have to.” He added the second part quickly after.

“I- I think I do,” I smiled. Though he had just put his mug down, he picked it right back up, you did the same.

“Then a date it is.” You clinked cups. Still, something felt off. You were holding the cup up to your lips, but just far enough not to be able to drink from it. Your eyes glazed over as you focused them on the mural in front of you. It was of the Paris skyline. With the Eiffel tower in the middle, the Arc de Triomphe a bit to the left, on the other side stood the two symmetrical towers of the Notre Dame cathedral. It was probably geographically inaccurate, just good enough to keep everyone who had never been to the City of Love satisfied. 

“Okay, something’s up.” Tom brought you back to the date. “What’s wrong? And, please, be honest.” 

“I don’t know,” you huffed out a laugh. “But before you start to freak out, it’s nothing to do with you, I swear.”

“So, you kind of know what it is about.” he raised an eyebrow. He had a point. If you knew what it was not, it meant you knew what it was, indeed. 

“I, uhm,” suddenly you felt very much aware of everything and everyone around you. Were they listening? “Well, I really want to apologise for being so distant outside of Instagram.” 

“There’s really no need for that, darling,” he said. “I understand it, and should have been a bit more considerate. I should have realised sooner that bars and shit aren’t your cup of tea.. or hot chocolate.” 

You both laughed. 

“Yeah,” you were smiling, but the word came out a bit as a sigh, conveying your all the troubling thoughts that were going on in your brain.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Tom saw through it. You bit your lip, not sure how to say it. You didn’t want to say it. He would probably think you were a joke. Besides, all those people around. Some of them from your school. They could probably hear every word you were saying.

“Do you maybe want to text it to me?” he suggested with a kind smile. You hadn’t realised when he had moved, but he had let go of your shoulders, and his hand was now on top of yours. His thumb moved slowly over your skin, reassuring you that, whatever it was, it was okay. 

How you hoped it was. 

You grabbed your phone and started to type out your message, taking a deep breath before sending it to him. You heard the vibration in his pocket, and with it, your heart skipped with anxiety. Tom kept holding on to your hand as he took out his phone and read the text. His eyes shot wide open. 

“Wait, really?” 

 _________________________________

“Never?” he asked, to which she bit her lip and shook her head. 

No, it wasn’t possible. 

“How has no one- nooo,” 

“It just… never got far enough- No, I mean, ugh,” she finally took a sip of her hot chocolate. Tom had to admit that it was cute how that was her go-to frustration action. She wiped off the whipped cream from her lip. Tom couldn’t stop looking at them, they were just so perfect. He wanted to feel her, to taste her. He wouldn’t even mind the taste of cinnamon that would have remained on them. 

“There was just never a guy that made me think, oh yeah, I want to kiss him,” she said after another sip of the hot chocolate. 

“So, you’d want to kiss me?” 

“Shut up,” she said glaring, but just to hide the big smile on her face. 

“Sorry, I just can’t believe you’ve never been kissed.” She flinched a bit at his words. “I don’t mean it in that way. You shouldn’t be ashamed of never being kissed. Sometimes it happens early on, sometimes it doesn’t. If it wasn’t for my pledge, I don’t think I would have had my first kiss till last year.” He confessed. y/n looked at him with eyebrows that had a twist of disbelief in them. 

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear,” Tom laughed, putting his hands up. “So really, no judgement here.” Then he leaned in to whisper into her ear, “and I definitely won’t mind breaking you in,” He couldn’t keep a straight face saying it, and neither could she. He had thought it would make her nervous or flushed, but she just slapped him on his arms teasingly. 

“In your dreams, Holland.” 

“Fuck, I hope so.” That made her freeze, just for a second though. “Shit, too much?” He asked, afraid he had finally taken it too far with his inappropriate humour. 

“No, you’re good.” She took another sip of her hot chocolate, allowing Tom to do so as well. 

“See, just because I’ve never been kissed, it immediately puts me under this label of being a prude or something, but I’m really not. I’ve just- had a really shitty love life.” Or just a complete lack of it.

“Well, I hope to change that.” He leaned in again and pecked her cheek. That finally got him the flushed reaction he had hoped for. 

“You already did.” 

 _________________________________

Your hand moved up to your cheek, hovering above the area that he had kissed. You felt like an idiot, but with Tom, it didn’t even feel like a bad thing. 

“We’ve known each other for less than two days, and I can already tell you, you’re way up there in the list of good dates.” 

“Way up there? Give me stats.” He nudged on. You thought for a second. 

“At least… top ten.” 

“Top five? Oh C’mon, babe, I think I’m a bit better than that. Not to toot my own horn, of course.” 

“Top five.” You said, ignoring the butterflies that had escaped in your stomach. He glared at you. You glared back, keeping your eyes on each other for another moment until he had dipped his finger in his hot chocolate and pressed it against your nose. You blinked in confusion. 

“That just moved you down to number six.” 

“Well, shit.” Tom leaned in and licked the whipped cream off your nose. As disgusting as it should have been, you burst into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in his chest to not disturb the rest of the restaurant. While you were trying to calm down, you felt Tom kiss the top of your head a few times. 

Finally, you sat up again. 

“Top three,” you stated. It was good enough for Tom. For now. 

You drank the rest of your drinks in the best silence possible that could be kept as both of you kept laughing at each other. Finally, the mugs were empty. Tom paid for everything and let you take the lead to walk outside with the umbrella. When you opened the door, however, you saw that the storm had now passed over into a light drizzle. You kept the umbrella closed. 

You were already letting yourself get taken up by the rain when Tom was outside. You thought he would come to join you, but he stayed under the little roof, watching you with a big smile. 

“Not afraid of the rain, are you?” you asked. “Or are you made of sugar?” 

“All I can say is, come and find out for yourself.” You were already a few steps away, so you hopped over to him, took his hand and took the final step, so you were touching chest to chest. His other hand found its way on your hip. You saw his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. You smiled and pulled him in closer, making you take a step back and exposing him to the weather. 

“Mutherfucker!” He gasped, not having expected that. “Ohh, you’re good.” 

Before you knew what was happening, he had picked you up by the waist and spun you around. You squealed from surprise before the both of you started laughing again. Eventually, he had to put you back down again, and your eyes widened in horror when you saw him walk to a large puddle. 

“No, Tom! No, no, no.!” He put you down right next to it. Probably an inch from the water edge. 

“C’mon, I’m not that mean.” he pouted. 

“Nah, you’re a softy,” you poked his cheek. He grabbed your hand. 

“Oi, I wouldn’t go that far.” then kissed the tip of your index finger, which you had poked him with a second before.

“Too late, I guess.” 

“You sure about that? You’re still really close to that puddle babe. We wouldn’t want any… accidents!” He gripped you by the waist again, and the sudden movement made you feel like he was gonna throw you down into the puddle. You shrieked but soon felt his arms still around you and no parts of your body were soaked (only moderately wet from the light rain) or on the ground. He was still holding you. 

“You never answered me,” he said, his sweet laughter was gone, and his eyes were on your lips again. 

“Answer what?” you kept looking at his face as a whole, taking in every detail. The way his nose scrunched when droplets of rain well on it. How one of his eyebrows was more bushy and irregular than the other. The dimple in his chin, his freckles- everything. 

“If you wanted to kiss me.” 

His golden-brown eyes were so warm, even in the dim street lights at night. His wet hair was sticking to his face, but framing it so nicely. His jaw was sharp, it didn’t seem like it should be real. 

“I do.”

His lips. Though thin and a bit chapped, they still felt so soft. The sweet taste of chocolate, mixed in with the rain that had fallen in the few moments that you stood outside. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you in closer to him. It felt so good. So right. 

You pulled away but with no idea how much time had gone by. His stands stayed in their position, his eyes searched yours for a reaction. Nothing came from it since you were still in an emotional daze. 

Tom chuckled. 

“Fuck, I should have slid into your DMs sooner.” 

“Way to ruin the mood, Holland.”

“Oh, you love it.” He said before pulling you into another kiss. 

The END

> song played in Le Moulin: Rendez-vous sous la pluie (Jean Sablon)

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to see more of this au cause i really enjoyed writing it :)

> if anyone has a comment about how it had only been a day since they met etc. i wrote this 15k story in the span of 24 hours. i wish i could have added more to it but at this point, i am physically and emotionally exhausted and do not want to make it even longer. 

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96  @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown  @spiderrrling​ @captainpeggy40 @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @awesomehritz​ @madzleigh01​ @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey​ @quaksonhehe​ @mountainsforwords​ @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex​ @ethereal-beauty-p​ @slytherin-chaser​ @worldoftom​ @moonysoftt​ @peeterparkr​ @wazzupmrstark​ @saintlavrents​ @peachybloomss​ @blissfulparker​ @chloecreatesfictions-archive​  @fallinfortom​ @bitchydecisions​ @okokimfreakingoutahh @cicicantblog​ @musicalkeys​ @joyleenl​ @multifandomdoodles121 @awkwardfangirl2014​ @marvelouspeterparker​