#i actually have a doodle from before the au of him wearing this jacket it was my first time drawing him

[ryssbelle]

Mickey mouse cartoon reference go brrr

[nburkhardt]

Whooooo wants another silly with Steve as a little shit fic?

The idea comes when Eddie rushes out of his house to go to band practice. It makes him smile at the plan forming in his head and the excitement and gasps he’ll get tomorrow.

The next morning is spent making sure the bags are packed and that he’s wearing his basketball jacket to complete the look.

He’s giddy with excitement as he drives to school, putting one backpack on his shoulder and carrying the other once he’s parked. Walking towards the school with a smirk in place. There’s already gasps and whispers as he enters through the doors. He casually makes his way towards a row of lockers, the opposite side of his own and leans against one and knocking on the open one next to it.

“Man, it’s not even eig- Stevie!” Eddie slams his locker shut and beams at him.

His smirk fades into a smile, “Hi lovely” he whispers mostly due to the other students clearly spying on them, “You forgot this yesterday”

Eddie looks confused and he lifts up the bag, “your backpack?”

He hears more gasps and poor attempts at whispering, there’s even sounds of a book dropping. It brings him joy, making him wiggle the backpack again. “Don’t play dumb, Teddy-baby, you know this is yours”

That time he doesn’t whisper, he’s actually a little loud.

Eddie’s eyes widen and his eyes flicker around them before settling back on him, an unsaid question on his face.

It softens when it’s answered by a nod, “yeah, yeah you’re right. My backpack, you got yours?”

Steve so happy that they’re actually learning to communicate while silent, he smiles back and stands straighter to turn away. Showing off the backpack. He looked in the mirror before leaving the house, it is a big contrast to his letterman jacket. What makes it even better is, since the straps are loosen and long, his name is visible over the top.

“Ye-yep, looking perfect, Sunshine boy.” It comes out pitchy and Eddie clears his throat shaking his head before throwing his arms around him, “always, sweet boy”

Steve brightens and looping his arms around him, keeping him close and loving not only the warm of the hug but also the gasps and loud gossiping around them. That brings him joy at the chaos. Eddie seems to enjoy it too by the laughter coming from him.

“Of all the ways to reveal our relationship, honey”

It brings Steve to a blush, he tightens his arms around Eddie and turns his head to press a kiss to his cheek, enjoying the blush that creeps up.

“Thought it would be fun, let everyone know who belongs to me”

~

The edible I took is definitely hitting because this isn’t make much sense anymore but it’s SILLY AND SHORT.

Facts ya don’t need but I’m now thinking about: Steve and Eddie have only been dating for a few weeks when pulls this. It’s also a modern au because I don’t wanna think about the 80s. They still in high school and Steve is wearing Eddie’s backpack that he painted on. There’s the hellfire logo, because he’s obsessed with it. There’s also pins and patches all over it, even a ice cream cone and sailor hat, along with cheer pom-poms (am I spelling that correctly? Idk) ANYWAY. Steve’s backpack is a basic blue, with some doodles from Eddie and Robin. Because of course Robin is there, she’s Steve’s platonic soulmate.

It’s also inspired by my brand new loungefly I got 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Under the cut with the tag list 🫡

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @strangersteddierthings

THE BACKPACK! Clearly not what I’m talking about Steve wearing but it’s glorious and perfect.

[froggychair05]

Bakery Au! It seems pretty cool! I came from your Jesskas cookie making fic thought it was great btw

Did you have any other hcs for the Bakery Au? Or any drawings?

Thank you!! I loved writing that fic, I’m glad people like it so much!! I guess I just have a thing for writing characters baking, haha

And ohhhh boy, do I ever! I uh. May or may not have just reached over 5000 words in scribbling down notes alone about this…so I’ll only go into a few so this doesn’t get ridiculously long. If there’s anything else you’d like to know, though, I’d be happy to share more! (as long as it’s not a major spoiler, that is)

This got…very long already, so I’ll put a cut here.

Some of these are plot-relevant, I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which ones 🙃

- Jesse is very good at cooking, but absolutely horrible at baking. Just absolutely terrible.

- He cannot drive. Like at all. Axel drives him everywhere (Axel makes jokes that he shouldn’t be trusted to drive, but he’s actually very good at it)

- Speaking of Axel, he has a rock collection that he’s very proud of

- He works as a demolitionist (because, you know, griefer? I wanted to give him a job where he could blow things up)

- Olivia works from home as a programmer. She has her own room while the other two have to share because of it, and also because they snore really loud.

- She handles all of the scheduling of appointments and stuff because the other two always forget

- Lukas takes a cheese sandwich and a granola bar to work for lunch every day. He also likes to put whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles in his hot chocolate :)

- He has a pair of clip-on stud earrings that he got as a gift from Petra because he never wanted to get his ears pierced but he did want earrings (he doesn’t wear them to work for fear of losing them)

- Petra met Lukas in high school and they became really close— she’s kind of a sister figure to him and they talk on the phone a lot

- She spends a lot of time traveling to gather things for her adopted dads’ (Jack and Nurm!) antique/pawn shop thing. Also she rides a motorcycle.

- Nell is great at handling rude customers. Lukas is 90% sure she does weed in the bathroom (she does)

- Radar organizes the display cases, like, all the time. He’s in college and he cleans when he’s stressed, so the bakery is always very clean

- Stella is genuinely good at business, but only the social parts. Binta helps with more of the technical aspects. (They are girlfriends)

- Aiden played football in high school, Maya was a cheerleader, and Gill played soccer.

- The three of them (plus Lukas) have been hanging out since middle school, and they still have the matching leather jacket thing going on

- Ivor works as a pharmacist (because potions and stuff? medicine?); he’s also Jesse’s dad/weird uncle figure (more on that another time)

As for drawings, I started doodling some character designs! Because the headcanon list got so long, I won’t go into a lot of detail about them, but again, I’d be happy to answer any questions about design choices!

The words got kind of blurry, so the first image says (from top to bottom):

- construction worker, always covered in dirt

- work uniform

- nether star tattoo on her arm

- I have never drawn him before this

And the second image, from top to bottom:

- runs counter/baking, also in charge of daily cupcake display

- bakery logo

- in charge of cleaning, organization, and finances

- owner/manager/supervisor, handles the social aspects of the business

- helps with the technical aspects of the business, also delivers from the ingredients supplier

I have other designs in progress and I’ve started doodling some of the scenes, so those will show up eventually :) I have some big plans for this AU. Thank you for the ask!

[hekateinhell]

♡ + Armand/Lestat

I didn't realize you'd reblogged this meme and now you gotta feed me in return 😾 (and if someone else has asked for them in VC then I wanna know about them in your high school au)

babe you get my entire kitchen, apartment, whatever you want 🥹 LOL you already know the whole arc I have planned for them in the sequel but I'll stay in context of where we saw them last on ao3 -- their mutual boyfriend's name freshly tattooed on both their asses and Armand struggling to admit to Lestat that he loves him as well, before Lestat (for once), did the hard part for him.

• Who is the most affectionate?

Lestat.

Armand is incredibly insecure about just how much he's 'allowed' to touch him in public and in private so he doesn't readily initiate -- he doesn't want to rock the boat now that Louis's other boyfriend seems to have finally accepted him (he doesn't entirely trust Lestat's drunken and endorphin-fueled love confession).

Lestat's trying to navigate the awkward 'undefined' stage as well, but in the meantime, he'd like everyone else to know in no uncertain terms that this one also belongs to him. He's living his dream with one arm around Louis's waist and the other draped over Armand's neck. Everyone knows Lestat and Louis have been an on/off item, everyone knows Armand and Louis have also been an item for a while now, Lestat would like the world to know that he and Armand are also... something.

He just doesn't know what yet but if he could mark Armand like a dog in public, he would. It means the world to him that Armand never gave him back his leather jacket after that night and wears it to school every day even though it's much too baggy on him and reaches precisely down to his thighs. To Lestat's eighteen-year-old brain, they're practically engaged as long as Armand holds on to that jacket.

• Who initiates the handholding?

See above.

Poor Lestat has to instigate literally everything right now. Oh no, it's not going to cause any problems down the line, why would it? 😔

• Who worries more for the other?

Armand worries about Lestat living on his own since his mother bailed and left him alone with an empty house. Lestat doesn't... do well alone. He'll invite anyone over to hang out and party if Armand and Louis just can't be there; bad things happen.

• Who is more likely to ask for help?

Directly? Neither of them. But Lestat's much more prone to purposely and consciously acting out in the hope someone will notice and help him. Armand will just pretend Bad Things Aren't Happening.

• Who is the one always losing the keys?

Lestat loses everything that isn't physically attached to his person. Sometimes he forgets where he parked his car and that's his baby.

• Who leaves little love notes for the other?

They're in the same grade (even though Lestat's older, Armand skipped a year and Lestat got held back a year) so Armand and Louis typically share their notes with Lestat who has a terrible fucking time focusing during class (it's the ADHD and dyslexia). He'd much rather and much more easily fill a notebook with lyrics and random doodles for his dream album covers.

When Armand knows Lestat will actually be reading over his notes later (only under threat of a quiz or an exam -- he would like to graduate this year, thank you very much), he works in little quotes from his favorite love poems or songs.

He hopes Lestat knows it's intentional that Armand penned out the entire [love is more thicker than forget] in the margins, that Armand was thinking of him when he wrote it and not just scribbling because he's bored. Don't judge him; we all went through our E.E. Cummings phase.

• Who can't sleep unless the other is there?

Armand is an anxious sleeper and his home life in foster care isn't... great, so he spends at least half of his day at school catching up on sleep. He gets his best sleep in the library on someone's lap; out on the field using Lestat's stomach as a pillow while they lay out on the grass away from everyone else; in the backseat of Lestat's car with Louis's crumpled-up sweater as a pillow and Lestat's jacket as a blanket.

Armand would never sleep in front of other people, but on a mostly subconscious level, he feels safest just knowing Lestat's around -- a 6ft, 175-pound German Shepard that for some reason is personally interested in him right now.

(Though I have to say, Lestat loves when Armand can sleep over at his house, for many reasons aside from the obvious.)

• Who is more likely to propose to the other?

Considering how Armand drunkenly and brazenly asked Lestat to fuck him before they've ever done it, I'm going to say Armand. Whoops...

Let's hope when Armand proposes it goes better than the 'fuck me' conversation did.

• Who introduced the other to their family first?

Neither of their family is in the picture at the moment, so we're going to thrust this onto Louis.

Technically, Lestat and Armand knew of each other and had seen each other around the school before, but the day Louis formally introduced them to each other as his boyfriends was interesting -- in fact, it went something like...

Armand: [spit, hissss] 😾😾😾

Lestat: the fuck.

• Who is more likely to play with the other's hair?

Lestat loves playing with Armand's hair while Armand's napping. He has a shit ton of nervous energy that needs an outlet and he always has to have his hands busy with something, plus he'll make up literally any and every excuse to touch Armand.

• Who makes sure the other has meals/stays hydrated?

Lestat knows about Armand's home life and that he can't always afford to buy lunch at school, so he usually grabs him something from the deli when he goes for himself. He buys something for Louis too so Armand doesn't feel awkward and singled out; it makes Lestat feel good to be in any sort of big manly provider role and it doesn't hurt that Armand flutters his lashes at him and playfully licks his lips as he whispers 'thank you.'

• Who is more likely to stand up to anyone for the other?

Lestat has a much more reactive and implosive temper, so it would probably be him if someone even so much as looked at Armand the wrong way.

He's lost plenty of sleep trying to find out what exactly Armand meant by the virginity comment (they're not in the place yet where he can outright ask and he doesn't want to bring it up to Louis in case Armand hasn't and it'll become A Thing). But he fantasizes about getting to the bottom of it one day so he can figure out who to kill.

Most people leave Lestat alone because he's generally pretty popular and well-liked (and also an older senior who's had his share of fights), but if Armand ever overhears some snarky asshole insulting Lestat's intelligence because he's repeating a grade, he will cut them down to size with the most bitingly vicious words in the calmest possible tone. He might even smile as he does it, just to be extra creepy.

• Who is the most likely to prepare a surprise for the other?

Armand did spring the tattoos thing on Lestat, so I'd have to say Armand.

People expect Lestat to be capricious; Armand not so much, so it's extra surprising. But he loves to plan little 'not quite dates' and excursions that often rely on the premise of 'just trust me, Lestat! 🥺'

• Who makes the other pinky promise not to do certain things?

Armand makes Lestat pinky promise that he's not going do anything reckless like drink and drive if he's going to a house party Armand and Louis can't attend. It's not that Lestat means to be reckless, he just thinks he's invincible.

Lestat's pinky promise requests are much more innocuous, usually after they've made up following a petty adolescent squabble: 'Promise you're not still mad at me? Swear on it.'

• Who puts a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch?

Lestat covers Armand up when he's fallen asleep at school, Armand covers Lestat when he falls asleep on his couch or in his bed. Usually Lestat's on top of him already, between his legs and resting his head on his chest, and so it takes a bit of gymnastics practice to maneuver a blanket over them both. It's worth it for some of the best sleep either of them will get anytime soon. 💖

[dourpeep]

https://www.instagram.com/p/CTuWYf_Bkdz/?utm_medium=copy_link (albedo)

https://www.instagram.com/p/CT11mFzBrnd/?utm_medium=copy_link (kazu and scara)

https://www.instagram.com/p/CUAIuz5lbX9/?utm_medium=copy_link (xiao)

here ya go :D. hopefully my asks go through hehe -kitkat anon

Hello kitkat! It's been a while :DDD

I hope you are doing well <3

I know it says high school au, but think of this as part of the college au nodnod! Have a few short drabbles about the boys and how they pine after you hehe

Albedo OTL I love him sm smmmm I actually have a jean jacket that color that's big on me so seeing him in a jean jacket,,,ehe just casual wear in general- espec. because I usually doodle him wearing sweaters and stuff so a tshirt and jean jacket...so big brain

You sit a few seats away from him in Chemistry and it's clear to you and your classmates that Albedo is something of a genius.

He's always interacting in class, raising his hand, asking questions with a slight tilt to his head, scribbling notes in his notebook. Little do you know, the scribbles are mostly sketches of things that've caught his attention throughout the day. One such being a side-profile of you. It's pretty obvious that you stare at him. Of course it's natural for you to occupy a little bit of his thoughts.

Why do you stare, for one?

There's a slight smile on your lips, and he now wonders just what it is that makes you smile and...maybe he can find a way to inspire one as well.

He blinks, out of his reverie, and looks back at the board to see the new topic, returning to his notetaking while the thought of you lingers in the background. It's silly, yes, to think of such things, but he can't help but be intrigued by you. Tapping his pencil against the line pages, he remembers that the cafe close by started advertising a few new desserts.

Surely, it'd be worth the chance to get to know you better.

Kazuha and Scaramouche?? They're fantastic too aaaaa and I love the little labels besides them ahaha makes me think of that one Anti-Romantic, which I think fits them both well (Scaramouche due to his backstory, Kazuha due to his desire to find out more about visions before anything else) so yeah!

These two are unlikely friends, not just with their personalities, but also with the fact that Scaramouche doesn't give anyone a second glance while Kazuha steals hearts left and right.

Though, one thing is certain. They share similar interests.

You.

By some coincidence, you've managed to catch their eyes. Whether it's the way you handled some situation with ease--quick and decisive--the sound of your laugh, the way that your hand curls around a drink-warmed paper cup, whatever it was was enough.

You have singlehandedly managed to chip away at the iciness surrounding Scara, his eyes automatically scanning his surroundings the moment he steps out of class in hopes that you might be passing by.

But even with his feelings, he has trouble with expressing them. Some afternoon, he approaches you, throat bobbing and eyes flicking to you and back to the tree just over your shoulder. Was...was it always so hard to just say how you feel??

Kazuha on the other hand has seen you pass by his usual spot settled beneath a tree. There have been times where he muses out loud to himself, noticing the way that you seem to stop and listen once in a while, and it's something that he's come to appreciate.

After all, one thing he values is the ability to just stop and take a moment to appreciate all that is around you. These little moments are ones that he looks forward to dearly. Next time, he'll invite you to sit with him.

Maybe you might inspire a few verses.

Now...the difficulty lies in their realization of each other's feelings for you. Luckily (though, perhaps not so luckily), neither are willing to lay down their metaphorical weapons, and intend to make their feelings known to you.

Who would you choose :3c

And Xiao!! The gentle sweetie who looks like a bad boy- ahhh yesyesyes please.

Xiao would be the quiet kid in class that people end up assuming is a troublemaker because he seldom talks or answers questions but after school he stops by a certain alleyway to check on this little stray cat.

It's incredibly antsy and shy, hissing and scratching whenever he comes close (you notice that he has scratches along his knuckles and fingers, everyone assumes he gets in fights despite the lack of bruises), but he's there without fail with some food and water.

One day when you're tagging along with him after classes (you're project partners, after all), he stops and you can't help but stare wide-eyed at the kitten. Though you can't come too close, he gazes at it, expression soft, telling you how once it warms up to him he plans on adopting it.

By the time that the month has passed, you've become somewhat good friends--you learn that he plays guitar, that helps at one of the local shops often because the owner is a kind old woman, Xiao often insisting to do the work so she can rest. He's kind, selfless.

When the little cat ends up warming up to you too, he offers for you to visit so they don't have to miss you. You don't miss the slight tinge of red on his cheeks and ears.

-

I love it all

My boyssss OTL OTL

[hostiletakeoverau]

HOSTILE TAKEOVER UPDATE 3: Noelle and Berdly

Coming in with what is likely the final of these daily updates before moving onto (hopefully) more weekly content updates, I’m happy to present Noelle and Berdly taking up the roles of Kris and Susie as they do in Deltarune!

Noelle - In this AU, Noelle is a downtrodden girl raised by a single mother and her family’s long-time babysitter: Papyrus, and his family. Though she was already familiar with loss due to her sister and father’s passing, she was in the process of recovering when her close friend Napstablook went on tour with their cousin. She awaits their return, playing their records every night and checking up on their social feed to help them sleep and stave off the troubling recurring nightmares of someone calling out to them in the middle of a snowstorm...

Berdly - As he is in Deltarune is an egotistical tryhard, except in this situation there was no spelling bee that brought him closer to Noelle, no reason to get closer and risk making the sheltered sensitive girl cry, and so they never became friends, meaning Berdly remained unnoticed and unappreciated. Berdly is a soul desperate for attention, doing any and every hair-brained scheme his gigantic brain comes up with. And though he more than excels as the number 2 in class, nothing seems to ever drive the attention of anyone his way, making him resentful, especially towards Noelle, who he sees as someone who’s never had to try and always gets to be number 1 and always has people caring about her.

Design Changes

Noelle wears a very different color scheme as in DR due to me following the idea of the fallen child having to resemble the protagonist in the original Undertale universe. In this case, Mettaton. going off of designs of colored MTT, I decided to give her a more pink and black sort of look. The dress is also from MTT himself, who gifted it to Noelle for spending so much time with Napstablook.

These are all big changes since the og post I made describing Noelle’s backstory in HT, cause I wanted to really link this au to a proper undertale universe and I thought Storyshift would be perfect. Now this has no express permission from the Storyshift person themselves and I am not affiliated with Storyshift and their au in any way, and it’s likely I’ll have to make my own UT AU just for this - which I would have no problem with, but I just thought it’d be most appropriate to making a unique AU that’s still cohesive.

As for Berdly, his design was based off of a suggestion from @randomguyed​ , and I owe actually both designs to them because with their help I reworked the designs I had for them originally (seen below). But yes, Berdly’s design is meant to be a blend of “trying too hard to be cool”, but with the same quirks that make Berdly himself. Not pictured but at the back is a rainbow patch sewn by his mother, because the Jacket itself was a request from his mother. As for what’s on his face, it’s a VR headset/google glass thing for gamers, idk if such a thing is real but Berdly would absolutely get one and look dumb in it. It’s the perfect way to keep his eyes hidden imo, to mirror Susie having her eyes hidden most the time in ch1. I also just making his glasses rather reflective, but I thought this’d be much funnier.

ANYWAY, thanks for reading and have a good day. The next proper post will probably be next week but don’t surprised if I upload some doodles to this blog! Anyway, @mmani-e​ out!

[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​

[pascalpanic]

‘Nilla Bean (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x gn!Reader)

Summary: A cowboy in your coffee shop is not the way you’d expected your morning to go, but you’re not complaining; especially not when he’s as attractive as he is.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: talk of food/eating, brief allusions to alcohol, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, I think there’s like a single use of fuck

A/N: okay I’ve been thinking about this FOREVER but I finally went ahead and wrote it!!! hope u guys like it, I’m a sucker for a coffee shop AU as a barista myself :) thx @theteddylupinexperience for helping me name it and motivating me to write it lol

When you started your shift this morning, you’d groaned as you tied the apron around your waist, expecting an uneventful day. Most were. If you were lucky enough to see someone you knew or to have an especially nice customer, you’d consider it a good day. You didn’t know when you walked in that it would be the good day to end all good days: nothing could top this one.

Weekday mornings in the fall aren’t particularly busy. The majority of your customers come around the morning rush, and the remaining ones are usually retirees or house-spouses and their young children. It’s enjoyable, days like these, that don’t require you to dash about the shop.

The only problem, really, is having nothing to do. You clean the coffee grinder, wipe down tables, wipe down everything else, then do it all again. Restocking, usually an endless chore, isn’t even an option; no one’s using anything in the first place. You and your coworkers chat, deep-cleaning the coolers, washing the blender stations, and doing the dirty work. When a customer comes, you’re the lucky one who gets to go take their order and put your task on hold first.

It seems like you’ve done every task twice, even when your manager introduces yet another idea for you to deal with. To bide your time, you prep coffee for later, rearrange the case of pretty little pastries that sits next to your register, and doodle on your station with a paint pen, humming to the soft music playing in the shop.

People come and go, some picking up mobile orders and some ordering from you, some choosing to eat inside and some taking their food to go. You sip your drink happily between customers- a white mocha with caramel.

At one point, you’re in the back and washing dishes when a coworker peeks his head into the back. “Hey, you got someone up front!” He informs you, and you nod and wander out through the swinging doors.

Well. That’s certainly a sight for a Tuesday morning.

The man standing at the register is wearing a painfully well-tailored suit jacket, with gray tweed and patches on the elbows. Beneath it is a white top and a black tie, and the man wears jeans on the bottom half. Interesting.

Perhaps more interesting is the large cowboy hat perched atop his head. The man’s face, below the brim of his Stetson, is incredibly handsome. He has an aquiline nose, a neatly trimmed mustache that wouldn’t work on anyone else, and warm brown eyes that make you smile softly.

“Hi,” you comment as you log into the register. “Are you a part of our rewards program?” You ask as part of your regular spiel.

The man furrows his brow then shakes his head. “Uh, no. No I’m not. Can you sign me up now?” He asks, and his voice makes your chest flutter with the tone. It’s rich and smooth, with a beautiful southern twang.

Looking at your register and back at him, you shake your head. “It’s just an app on your smartphone, really easy,” you tell him.

“Ah, damn,” he groans and pulls it from his pocket. “I’m shit with technology. Why don’t you just… type it in here?” He says, handing you his phone with a notes page open. His thick fingers accidentally lock the phone as he hands it to you.

You tap the screen to wake it and find the background to be a picture of a cute little pig all covered in mud. “Uh, you locked it,” you chuckle. “What’s the password?”

The man looks down shyly. “1-2-3-4. Don’t make fun’a me, I’m like a grandpa with these newfangled phones.”

It’s endearing, you have to admit, and it makes you giggle. “Not a problem. I’m not here to chide you on your security choices,” you shrug. You type in the code and find the app, starting the download for him before handing back his phone. “Can I get a name to start your order?” You ask as you look up at him.

His eyes hold a warmth there, radiating off of his smile. “Whiskey.”

“Your mother named you Whiskey?” You tease as you type in the name, returning back to the main page of beverages. “Some kind of legal name.”

The man shakes his head. “Nah, that’s just what I go by at work.”

Whiskey likes conversation, you notice, and it makes you chuckle a little. “You got a real name then?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow beneath your visor.

The man tips his hat. “Jack Daniels, at your service.” He says and offers you a hand, which you take and shake.

“That’s a lie. You’re telling me your nickname is Whiskey and your real name is a type of whiskey?”

The man shrugs. “My momma had a real funny sense of humor, I guess. My daddy loved the booze so they went with it. I work for Statesman, so I suppose it’s fitting.”

“Ah, the distillery,” you nod with a smile, not grasping the depth of what Statesman actually does. How could you? “Well then, Jack,” you say with an honest grin on your face. “What can I get you to drink?”

Whiskey, Jack, whatever his name is, looks up at the menu, scanning the different beverages. “Well. That sure is a lot of choices. I’m new to the area, so I don’t know the menu yet, and I don’t know the first thing about coffee other than how to make it in a machine,” he admits to you. “What would you recommend, sugar?”

Sugar. Your heart beats a million times faster at the man’s words. You’ve had lots of weird and creepy men call you different things, but you’ve never been flustered and enjoyed it. This man is getting to you, quickly. “Well, how strong do you take your coffee?”

He thinks about that for a second, fiddling with the button on his suit jacket. “Pretty strong. A little sweet, with cream. I usually take it Irish style,” he admits with a chuckle, tapping a belt buckle that you realize is a tiny flask. Jesus. That’s not cheesy.

“Well, we don’t serve alcohol,” you laugh and look down at your screen. “We have all kinds of flavors.” You list them all off, off the top of your head, now staring at the ceiling to recite them all. “And our seasonal drink is pumpkin spice.”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Wonderful and all, but what do you like? You seem like you’ve got a good taste, darlin’, tell me what you’d recommend.”

God, these names are going right to where they shouldn’t, especially not when this handsome man is leaning on your counter and flirting with you as he orders his coffee. “I like vanilla.” You shrug.

The man laughs and stands. “I hate to say it, sugar, but I’m not a very vanilla man,” he says, his head tilting down and his dark, sultry eyes peeking out at you from just below the brim. His voice is seductive, implying something else other than the flavor.

Oh fuck. “Oh, not like that,” you laugh as your face floods with warm blood, anxiety coursing through your veins. “Not vanilla in that way.” Fuck, that’s even worse, you think and grip the counter so as to not physically cringe at your words.

“Not like that, huh?” His words are still so seductive and flirtatious it makes you want to combust. Maybe you will, if he keeps this going.

“N-no,” you stammer, looking down at the menu screen again. “I mean, I just think it’s underrated. People dismiss it as boring, but it’s really just as interesting of a flavor as anything else. It tastes really good with our espresso.”

Jack tilts his head to the side, a smirk on his face. His lip pokes out just slightly to wet his lips and you shiver involuntarily, your skin pricking up all across your body. God, you hope he can’t see it. “I’ll trust you on it, ‘nilla bean,” the man drawls and stands up straight again. “Triple espresso with vanilla and cream.”

You nod and ring that in. God, if he keeps going with the nicknames, you’re going to melt into a puddle here and now.

“What are these?” He asks as his fingers trace over the drawings on the counter, lifting them and finding the pink and green powder of the dried paint has transferred to his fingertips.

God, he makes you nervous, but in a good way. In the best way possible, a way that makes you want to knock that cowboy hat off his head and find out if his lips are as soft as they look. “I draw when I’m bored. It’s been a slow day,” you chuckle as your own fingers trace the crawling vines and flowers you’d painted there. “Sorry about the transfer,” you chuckle and your fingertips brush his, making you involuntarily shudder again at the contact. His fingertips are calloused and radiate warmth.  “Uh, can I get you anything to eat?” You ask and gesture at the bakery case.

The man inspects it for a moment, looking at the various foods lined up under the soft white light. “I’ll take one’a these,” he says and pokes a finger towards the chocolate chip cookies through the glass. You nod and take one out for him, putting it in a little paper sleeve and handing it over. “How much is this gonna hurt my wallet?” He asks, pulling it out from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Give me one second.” You type in your code for your employee discount, which takes a moment.

“What’re you typin’ there, ‘nilla bean?” He asks, brow furrowing.

Looking up at him, you push your visor up your face and smile a little. “Oh, I’m giving you my employee discount. It’s ridiculously priced here.”

Jack frowns. “You don’t have to do that for me, sugar. I’m just a regular ol’ customer.”

It’s your chance, you realize, to say something or stay silent forever. “Well, I like you,” you admit and take the credit card he hands you, swiping it through the machine. “And I’m hoping you’ll at least become a regular. I’d like to see you more,” you tell him with a grin.

The man’s face lights up, even beneath the shadow of his brim. “I’d like that too,” he nods and pockets his card when you hand it back.

A beat of silence passes as the two of you smile at each other, both of you lovestruck immediately. “Uh, your drink will be right up over there,” you say and nod to the other end of the café. “Are you going to drink that here or take it to go?” You ask.

“Oh, here,” he nods.

“Perfect,” you say with a small smile. “Then I’ll just bring it to you when it’s ready. Nothing better to do today,” you shrug and wander down to the other end before Jack, Whiskey, whatever can refute you.

You take the cup from your coworker, humming to yourself as you put some vanilla and cream in the cup, pulling the espresso shots. When it’s ready, it barely reaches the halfway mark of the small cup, so you top it with a little whipped cream. You suspect the man has more of a sweet tooth than he lets on.

Pocketing a pink paint marker, you put a lid on the drink and walk out to the dining room, setting the coffee down across from him. He’s munching on the cookie he’d ordered, looking up at you with unintentional puppy dog eyes. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” you smile and pull out the chair across from him, sitting down and pulling out the paint pen. “I put a little extra whipped cream on top. I thought it would go well with the espresso, make it a little creamier or something.”

As you uncap the paint pen, Jack’s brow furrows as he watches you. “Whatcha doing there?” He asks as you bring his cup closer to yourself and write something on the top.

“Being brave,” you chuckle and cap the pen, sliding it back. “I gotta head back. Enjoy it,” you say as you stand and pat him on the shoulder.

Only as you walk back to the register does Whiskey comprehend exactly what you put on the top of his cup. It’s your phone number, in that chalky pink paint, and a smiley face beneath it.

Jack may not be great with technology, like he told you, but he immediately pulls out his phone and takes a photo. Then he enters the number into a contact, filling out the name: ‘Nilla Bean.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

i would absolutely love to hear about your selkie medic schienceparty au! happy mermay!!

happy mermay to you too anon!! just so this doesn't get too long i'll put it under a read more but here's some doodles from the other night for y'all too :>

ok SO gist of it is medic is a selkie who lives in a secluded cove near a village in the middle of fuck knows where coastal scotland. he's the only one around because everyone else either died or moved away a long time ago out of fear of the humans. he goes into town every once in a while to mess with the townspeople but not enough for them to bear him any actual ill will?? more like a friendly nuisance. also anyone with a head on their shoulders realizes that selkies have lived in the area longer than the village has even existed so they kinda gotta respect that at the end of the day. he's also a pretty good healer and basically kind of acts as the resident town doctor because the nearest Actual Human Doctor is about an hour by drive. basically if you swing by his cove he's almost always willing to heal any ailment you may have. this is really the only reason why most people ever visit him but he gets it, y'know.

ok SO gist of it is medic is a selkie who lives in a secluded cove near a village in the middle of fuck knows where coastal scotland. he's the only one around because everyone else either died or moved away a long time ago out of fear of the humans. he goes into town every once in a while to mess with the townspeople but not enough for them to bear him any actual ill will?? more like a friendly nuisance. also anyone with a head on their shoulders realizes that selkies have lived in the area longer than the village has even existed so they kinda gotta respect that at the end of the day. he's also a pretty good healer and basically kind of acts as the resident town doctor because the nearest Actual Human Doctor is about an hour by drive. basically if you swing by his cove he's almost always willing to heal any ailment you may have. this is really the only reason why most people ever visit him but he gets it, y'know.

[ignore that the first para duplicated, tumblr is strange]

he's got three different forms, full human, semihuman, and full seal. full human is only w out his coat tho and when he's not wearing it, his coat just looks like a worn black leather jacket. he does a lot of exploring on the ocean floors and has a severe hatred of plastic fishing nets, which he collects to have them be thrown away whenever the next time he goes into town is. he also has the tendency to get into scuffles with shitty fisherman (which. usually ends up in him both getting injured and damaging their boat but really if you're being unethical and also a dick he doesn't really care about the property damage). also he's fucking.. Big as a seal. like as a human he's around 6'1" but as a seal/semihuman he's like 7'10".

engie's a repairman who moved from america not too long ago after some kinda shitty things happened to him (various family deaths, lost his arm in a workplace accident bc of shitty management, declining mental health, he could go on). he basically got there through demo, who he met and befriended while he was temporarily living in the states for work related things (he ended up coming back tho and working at his family's bakery). he was more than happy to help engie move in and help him out. also they.. may or may not have had a thing going on when demo lived in texas but they decided to break things off and stay friends when he came back home.

now engie does repairs for people around the village for money. he'll repair anything from toasters to refrigerators to cars, hell he'll even do cabinets if you pay him enough. if it's broken and he thinks he can do it, he'll do it for you. he's having some difficulty adjusting to everything but he really needed the change and everyone is friendly enough and he's getting along fairly well.

after noticing medic sauntering around the place every once in a while, he asks demo about him and demo just kinda nonchalantly mentions that he's a selkie, to engie's bewilderment. to be fair demo's seen weirder shit and medic's kind of his childhood best friend so he forgot that seal folk aren't actually in most places lol. engie ends up asking more about him and goes to visit his cove. not because he wants anything, just because he wants to say hi. which is.. a little odd for medic because he never has people visiting unless they want something from him. they get closer and engie ends up visiting several times a week, usually with demo but sometimes not.

eventually they start dating and because of this, people start seeing medic in town a lot more often while engie is sometimes seen wearing a new jacket that everyone's pretty sure he's never worn before. demo starts getting kinda jealous, both bc he kinda still has lingering feelings for engie and bc he and medic had a thing for each other when they were teenagers that never really went away even when they firmly decided to stay friends. he never says anything tho bc he wants both of them to be happy and ends up kind of. stewing in his own misery

eventually the truth comes out and he and engie have a heart to heart conversation about it. and they all end up dating! bc i like happy endings :)

[rbbalmung]

Pokemon SwSh GPL AU: Get to know ______

Guys, it’s time for my favourite pokemon ship. Prepare for loads of fluff. 

Get to Know Gloria x Hop (Postwickshipping/Hpyu): 

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other? I headcannon that Gloria really likes pokemon plushies, so Hop is always unconsciously checking the stuffed animal section of stores to see if there’s any she doesn’t have. Gloria tries really hard to get him books that pertain to his research, but she really has no clue what he studies aside from the fact that it’s legendary pokemon (Legendary Pokemon are his focus). 

2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap? Gloria! They are the cuddliest couple ever. There’s about a foot size difference between them, so she fits perfectly in his lap. (Hop is def the little spoon, tho). 

3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes? TBH, they would both walk around the house half naked. They’re comfort first babies, so you know Gloria’s bra is coming off and Hop is discarding his work clothes the second their door is closed. I think it’s kind of a casual thing for them, though. They’ve known each other long enough that this kind of thing doesn’t bother them. 

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway? Gloria has to drag Hop’s ass to bed pretty much every night. They’re both busy people, but we all know that Hop would lose track of time while working on his thesis. It is a fact that if Gloria doesn’t come to get him, he will fall asleep on his desk. 

5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies? They’re actually both pretty good cooks (Gloria’s mama owns a restaurant in Wedgehurst and Hop’s mom is obsessed with cooking), but I think Hop would probably be the one to burn all the food. The only reason why is because he has a harder time focusing solely on cooking instead of trying to multitask. Now, baking is a whole other story. They’re both terrible at it. 

6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”? Gloria would be the one to read the prompts and Hop would be the denier (he secretly thinks it’s really cute whenever she does it). 

7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes? Gloria. 100% Gloria. She is constantly cold and has a passion for stealing Hop’s hoodies. He thinks its adorable because they’re always really big on her. 

8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?” Hop would be the errand runner and Gloria would make sure he remembered everything. It goes back to Hop’s mind being a million places at once and Gloria hyper focusing on one thing at a time. 

9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions? Hop would drive and Gloria would give directions for similar reasons to the question above. 

10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws? Hop doodles Gloria sometimes to keep his hands busy. It’s kind of an absent minded thing for him to do while reading an article/book. Once Sonia caught him doing it, and when I say she teases him relentlessly, I mean it. Hop absolutely does not let Gloria see these doodles (they’re very cutesy and he’d die of embarrassment). 

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips? Hop would be the backflipper and Gloria would be the follower. Think back to their GPL season: Hop was blazing ahead at all times without a care in the world. Gloria is the slowest traveler in the world because she likes talking to everyone and visiting all the stores.  

12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking? Neither of them can hold their alcohol, but Hop at least has more body mass than Gloria. They’re a pair of lightweights and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise. (Let’s be real: Bede has to be the one to make sure they get home). 

14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own? Gloria. I actually believe that Gloria would keep her last name even after she and Hop get married because it belongs to her mama (after the divorce, they both changed their last names to match her mama’s maiden name). Hop is also a proud Hoffman, so he wouldn’t use the name Park. However, everyone else will mix it up. Gloria gets called “Mrs. Hoffman” all the time if she’s arriving for restaurant reservations or something of the like. Newer reporters/young children call Hop “Mr. Park” because they just assume Park was his last name. 

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside? Neither of them are scared of bug pokemon. 

16: Which one gives the other their jacket? HOP. I mentioned it earlier, but Gloria is always cold. Bede asks why he doesn’t just make Gloria bring her own jacket and Hop replies that he likes it when she wears his jacket (they’re freaking sappy).  

17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling? Pft. Leon? Please. By this point, he’s become the big brother of Gloria as well. The League members are a completely different story. They all like Hop, but since Gloria is one of their younger members and the biggest sweetheart, they’re a protective bunch (Especially Melony and Gordie). 

18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other? Gloria, but it didn’t go well. It was right before he was leaving to finish up high school studying abroad, and the timing wasn’t right (aka Hop turned her down because he hadn’t yet realised his feelings for her). Gloria tries her best to move on but never truly gets over him. Luckily, his feelings hit him like a bag of bricks to the stomach when they reunite a couple years later.  

19: How good would your OTP be at parenting? The best. They would definitely be the cool parents (I mean, come on. They’re the freaking heroes of Galar!). I think they’d also be super supportive of their child’s choices. 10/10. They’re made to be parents. (Hop would especially want to be a good dad. He’s initially nervous because he never knew his dad and thinks he might mess up, but Gloria reassures him that he’s doing a good job). 

20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters? Hop would be Mr. Perfect Grammar. Gloria would use mostly good grammar, but her texts would be littered with emojis. 

21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them? Hop is the more confrontational of the two. Gloria tends to believe that people are only mean to others if something bad is happening in their life, but Hop will jump from 0 to 100 if someone even looks at Gloria funny.  

22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun? Gloria likes Hop’s bad puns, so everyone else has to cringe in discomfort at the oblivious pair. 

23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy? Hop. Gloria likes catching pokemon and sending them on poke jobs, so there’s a new member to their family at least once a week. 

24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired? Hop. He’s the only one she would show vulnerability to, and he makes sure not to make her feel ashamed of it. (also, Gloria absolutely could not carry Hop. He’s like, a foot taller than her).  

25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering? Both! They’re very supportive of each other to help ease the other’s insecurities. Hop gets really invested in her pokemon matches and Gloria throws him a little celebration every time he finishes a project.  

26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder? Gloria. Since Hop never goes to sleep at night, it is very common for him to take 5 minute power naps without even realising it. Gloria definitely takes pictures when it happens as a reflex (They were long distance for the first 4 years of their relationship) because she wants to be able to look back at their memories together.  Like Gloria doesn’t know about Hop’s doodles of her, Hop doesn’t know about her phone album of him. 

27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked? Gloria? I think they both grow into their separate styles as the get older, but Gloria would push Hop to wear more colourful things. Sonia once told Hop that a man should never tell a woman what to wear because it’s rude. I don’t think Gloria would mind if he suggested something, but he is way too nervous to do it (Sonia scarred him).   

28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of? Hop is very nervous around Urshifu and Calyrex. Urshifu because he’s terrifying, large, and very protective of Gloria. Calyrex because the pokemon will take over his body without warning to tell Gloria something.  

29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains? Hop! If Gloria held it, Hop’s head would be in the umbrella. 

30: If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures? Oh my gosh, they’d go everywhere. I think that after Gloria steps down as champion, they travel to all the different regions for at least a couple of years. Gloria would be the one to take pictures and make a little scrapbook when they return home.  

[teeveeblog]

Studio AU Headcanon: Error and Geno

So I've noticed some headcannons for the studio au and have noticed Error has been left out of the fun, so now I'm here to offer my own Error headcanons.

So Geno and Error are brothers(obviously) Geno is the older brother and Error always looked up to Geno. (Fresh is also there, hes the youngest, but he's not very relevant)

So if anyone remembers @help-im-a-gay-fish came up with the headcannon that Inks(and i believe also Errors) have a condition that causes their bones to become discolored so im going to roll with it.

Were as Ink has a what you could call a midcase, Error has probably the most extreme case of it, so as a child he had to deal with the social stigma and bullying that came with that, and which led to Error feeling like Geno was the only person that understood him(especially when Geno gradually developed glitches over his eye.)

When they got older Geno began his acting career(it likely just started as something he did to kill time or make some money while in college). Geno began go actually become a fairly successful and popular actor, and wound up also inspiring Error to also enter the film industry.

And that's when the two had a falling out.

You see despite Geno slowly gaining more and more success and popularity in his acting career, he decided to retire from acting and cited the reason as he was getting married and wanted to focus on starting a family and getting a regular job.

And hoo-boy that pissed Error off.

The way Error saw it, Geno was just throwing away his career for some "creepy asshole"(aka Reaper) and it eventually led to a big fight between the two and even bigger falling out. (Fresh took Genos side because he probably found Errors reaction "very unrad")

As a result of this falling out Error sort of ghosted his brothers, despite Geno eventually trying to get back into contact with Error.

Bonus:

Some little doodles I did of possible designs, I may draw some finished ones later one, but for now the general idea I have is:

Geno - wears a patch to cover up his glitches, mostly wears his red scarf and things like sweaters and jeans, he doesn't have a melted socket or big cut, the glitches are probably a medical condition. I would say like Error, he has pretty bad eyesight and needs glasses(though not nearly as much as Error needs them)

Error - I noticed nobody really gave Error a studio au design and I will not stand for it 😤.

Probably is generally seen in more dressier clothes, like black pants, leather jackets, boots etc. Probably keeps the red sweater. Still has his glitches(errors probably just one of those people that have a unfair amount of medical conditions) and still has his terrible eyesight.

Another thing is an idea given to me by @help-im-a-gay-fish that Geno and Error look scarily alike, especially when they were kids.

Error and Geno belongs to @ loverofpiggies

Studio AU belongs to @zu-is-here and @help-im-a-gay-fish

I'll also be tagging @kotikaleo because her Ink headcanon was what inspired me to make this.

I may make a second part involving the before mentioned family Geno started and the "creepy asshole" he married. (Spoiler: Reaper isn't an asshole Error just hates the man)

[winzenni]

didn't mean to make you cry (lee donghyuck)

Summary: when your design project partner’s joking criticism unintentionally makes you cry, how will he fix it? after all, you’re his crush...

Genre: hurt/comfort?, fluff

Pairing: donghyuck x artist!reader, high school!au

Word count: 1.5k

When you were paired up with the outgoing, edgy, purple-haired boy in class for your design assignment, you thought your final grade was done for. The purple-haired class clown, Lee Donghyuck, who wears leather jackets and looks like he plays with fire in his free time, but actually has a kind heart and warm aura. 

You thought Donghyuck would ditch you in the very beginning, dumping the entire assignment onto you and opting to hit up the local night market with his friends instead, but he had surprised you. Throughout the month, Donghyuck had stayed on task in classes and been very attentive to your vision and goals for the project. Together, you were assigned to create a design layout that would display students’ artwork and be printed in the school newspaper.

Though your peers in class all opted for a traditional newspaper design, with serif fonts and boxy modules, you wanted to break out of the norm and create a futuristic vibe, with circles and vivid motifs, to emanate a clean aura in your work. When you were paired with Donghyuck, you feared he would shut down your creative vision, but instead, he had been extremely supportive and helpful in the project, even offering insight to improve the layout and refine the modern look of the pages.

For fun, you had put some close-up photos of your old sketches and drawings in the background. You thought Donghyuck would have called you self-centered for putting your own personal works on the page, but he had proven you wrong by complimenting the design afterwards. Together, your smooth black pen lines and colored pencil textures created a personal, diary-like feeling to the design, while the minimalistic modules and white space kept the clean modern vibes. 

His willingness to cooperate and kindness to you and your ideas had truly shocked you, and erased the bad boy/lazy rebel image you had thought of him. He seemed like someone you wanted to get closer with, maybe.

“Donghyuck and Y/N, time for your evaluation.” the teacher called you two up.

“Hm, this corner of the page is a little crowded. It’s hard on the eyes,” Ms. Kang says. 

“It’s because y/n drew the picture there,” says Donghyuck. “It’s ugly, right?” He says it in a joking manner, and you know he doesn’t mean it like that, but the words stir up some insecurities you’ve suppressed for a long time.

Ms. Kang laughs along with him. “Donghyuck, don’t be mean. Her drawing looks fine…”

--

You know he was joking when he had called your drawing ugly, but you couldn’t help but think that maybe he truly meant it. People were always like that to you.

In elementary school, your parents had loved your art. Your scribbly golden retrievers, your painted landscapes, they had praised each one and hung them up on the refrigerator, and you were so proud to have a talent that they were proud of. 

In eighth grade, your hyper realistic self-portrait earned you a ticket to New York to have your art displayed at a museum’s exhibit highlighting children’s artworks. You began to think this talent could take off and become a career, but your parents disagreed.

“Art doesn’t make money, y/n. Do you want to starve when you grow up?”

As you grew older, your art got better but your parents’ support decreased. Though you could draw a golden retriever 100 times better than before, your parents weren’t praising you.

“It’s ok, y/n. It looks kind of ugly.”

“That’s supposed to be you? It’s ugly-”

“Why did you draw me so ugly-”

Ugly was such a short word. But why did it hurt so much? Whenever you saw your parents’ faces, you just thought about your ugly, meaningless passion: art.

--

The bell rang. 

“Ah, I barely noticed the time. We’ll finish grading your design next class.” says Ms. Kang.

“Cool, thanks seonsaengnim,” Donghyuck responds. “Y/n, what did you think? She really liked the-”

You stand up, grabbing your bag and leaving for the cafeteria. You couldn’t hear Donghyuck’s words over your parents’ criticisms ringing in your head.

“Are you dumb? You’re NOT going to art school.” “No more art, y/n. It’s meaningless.” It had been a while since the word “ugly” had come up when talking about your art, your hobby, your talent, no -- your sole passion in life that gave you a purpose. You didn’t even notice your eyes watering up.

“Y/n, didn’t you hear me?” Donghyuck catches up beside you. “Ms. Kang said -- wait, are you crying?”

You’re taken aback, looking up to the face on your left. Concern flashes through his eyes as a sense of embarrassment pierces your chest. He thinks I cried because of a dumb joke he made, you think to yourself. He thinks I’m too sensitive and weak like that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, taking a u-turn to seek refuge in the bathroom. 

At lunch, you plop your tray beside your friend Renjun, taking a seat.

“How was the project evaluation?” He asks. 

“Renjun, you’re gonna laugh when I say this. I cried for no reason in front of Donghyuck,” you reveal.

“Why? What happened?” He asks worriedly.

You explain the purple-haired kid in your class, the design project, the thoughts that had rushed through your mind after Donghyuck had jokingly called your art ugly. Renjun, who you had first met in art class and hoped to become an art student himself, was one of few people who truly understood your insecurities about your future in art. 

“He probably thinks I’m weird and too sensitive now,” you say.

“Maybe,” he says. Renjun was never one to lie, even if the truth hurt a little bit. “It’s okay though, you probably won’t see him ever again after this year.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, patting it comfortingly.

“You’re right,” you laugh, scooping up another spoonful of rice.

--

How can she be laughing so much after crying less than twenty minutes ago? Donghyuck asks himself from across the cafeteria. Did I do something wrong?

“Donghyuck, what’s on your mind?” pipes up Jeno. “What are you looking at?”

“Hm? Oh… Earlier in class, that girl over there cried after I said something but I’m not sure why.” Donghyuck answers.

Jeno raises his head to look over at the girl in question. “Oh! Y/n? She’s so nice though, how did you even make her cry?” “I don’t know! That’s what I want to know!” Donghyuck defends himself. “Who’s sitting next to her though? She was just crying last class, why is she laughing already?”

“Oh, that’s Renjun. Why don’t you just ask him? He seemed pretty chill in math class last year,” Jeno suggests. 

-- 

When Donghyuck sees Renjun turn into the boys’ bathroom before class, he follows.

“Renjun!” he calls out.

Renjun turns around to see the owner of the unfamiliar voice. 

“Why did y/n cry? Did I do something wrong?”

Tilting his head to process the sudden interrogation, Renjun notices Donghyuck’s bright purple hair and makes the connection.

“Oh, you’re Donghyuck,” he remarks.

“Please, Renjun, tell me if I did something wrong. I need to know.”

“Why do you care so much?” Renjun asks. “Don’t worry about it, she’s not mad at you.”

“No, please. Please tell me. I-” Donghyuck starts. How can he admit his crush on you to a stranger right now? He can’t miss his chance. “I-I like y/n. I need to know if I did something wrong. I want to fix it. Please, Renjun.” 

Donghyuck had loved your drawings. He had loved your designs too. And loved you too. He loved how concentrated you focused when designing the layout, how your fingers gracefully pushed hair behind your ears when it fell in your face. He loved how your passion and dedication shined through in everything you did, whether it was your voice in a presentation, or the speed and concentration of your fingers on a keyboard. You were his crush, but also his role model. He couldn’t live with himself if he had made you cry.

Renjun explained your situation, your art, your parents, your self-doubt to Donghyuck. “Shoot your shot, Donghyuck. I think maybe y/n likes you too,” he said before pushing the door open and leaving quickly to hide his growing smile.

Alone in the bathroom, Donghyuck breathes a sigh of relief.

--

The next day in class, Donghyuck slides his backpack on the desk beside you, instead of his usual seat in the back. 

You look up, unsure how to face him. Should you explain why you cried? Or pretend like it didn’t happen?

He slips a folded pink piece of paper onto your desk, nodding at you to open it. 

You unfold the paper to see a doodle of a girl and boy, painting the sky together under some clouds. Amongst the clouds read “Your art is amazing. And you are too.” in a neat script. On the bottom of the paper: “Wanna come with me to the night market on Saturday?”

You look up at Donghyuck, searching his eyes to see if this is some pitiful joke or attempt to amend. Instead, you just see a glazed, lovestruck gaze in his eyes.

“I promise I won’t make you cry this time,” he says.

[adorkwithhats]

*Stupid cupid by Connie Francis plays on the radio*

My brain: U can make a whole au barely/kind of based on this.

Anyways, have a cupid!Aziraphale/Human!Crowley au that is basically a romcom movie. Plot summary is Aziraphale, a regular angel residing on earth, is task with being the “cupid” on the London area while the actual cupid of this area does somer delayed paperwork at Heaven for a month. At his first work he accidentally hits Crowley with an arrow while the red haired was looking at him. Shenanigans involving the misconception of how the arrows work, Aziraphale trying to make Crowley un-fall in love by setting him up with people and them actually falling in love along the way ensued. (I wasn’t kidding about the romcom thing) 

(Also! Adria is an oc by @ maddcelestial on instagram who after i shared some of these doodles on my stories did some super cute art based on the au that i love so much!!!)

[Image description: First image: A digital drawing of Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens. Aziraphale is a light skinned chubby angel with light blonde hair, pale pink wings and blue eyes wearing a white shirt, a cream color long coat and pant, and is holding a bow. Crowley is a light skinned skinny man with short red hair that is greying at the roots wearing a red turtleneck sweater, a black jacket and grey jeans. He is also wearing black sunglasses and holding a cup of coffee. In front of his chest there's a floating cartoony pink heart that has been struck by a white glowing arrow. 

Aziraphale is looking at Crowley sheepishly and saying "Oh bugger...". Crowley is blushing and grumpily says "Welp this may as well happen". Pointing at Aziraphale there's handwritten text that read in up-to-down order: "Cupid for a month"."By spending time with Crowley starts catching them feelings! Which oh boy that's no good"."Did not have training for this"."Thinks he has to find someone for Crowley to make him un-love him". "The arrow actually fades with time on it's own, and the effect of the arrows is not as intense as he assumes it is".

Pointing at Crowley there's handwritten text that read in up-to-down order: "Human"."48 years old". "Been able to see the supernatural since young". "Married to his works."He is a writer"."Accidentally been hit with a love arrow so I guess he is in love with cupid now? Which is not that bad the lad is cute but also he is too old for love(or so he thinks)"."He actually starts falling in love for real". At the bottom right there’s a doodle of Aziraphale panickly trying to pull the arrow from the heart in front of Crowley as the latter also panics wanting the arrow out of him. 

Second image: Four digital drawings of Aziraphale and Crowley.1- "So with these arrows being so powerful, shouldn't you had been trained at using the bow before being send to work at this?" Crowley, bemused, asks Aziraphale who nervously responds"Well, um...I'm kind of covering for a coworker actually. This isn't really my job".2- Both of thm walkin. "Well...speed dating didn't work, shall we try internet dating services now?" Asks Aziraphale tho which Crowley respond with a serious tone "No".

3-Crowley covering his eyes, blushing as the heart beats loudly. "Ngk! Looking at you is making it worst!Stop being so cute!" he yells at a flustered and confused Aziraphale who responds "Cute??Me??". 4- They are both sitting at a table, each holding a frapuccino."This is not a date Adria! He just keeps following me and trying to set me on dates!" Crowley says loudly, blushing and baffled to Adria(a light skinned young woman with black hair on a barista uniform) who smugly responds "With how often you are here alone brooding you probably need that lol".Meanwhile Aziraphale is shyly saying "Hi" as he waves his hand at Adria. End ID.]  

[gingerest-ale]

YOUR PUNK AU ART has me on the floor. Absolutely spectacular!!!!! If you want to elaborate on your artistic choices I for one would LOVE to hear it <3

THANK UUUU!!!!!!!! also again i want to give credit to thee lovely castielsweedgarden (tumblr won’t let me tag them) for the original concept, the original post is here and their tag for alt!natural posts is here all their content is SO DAMN GOOD please check it out

OK ARTISTIC CHOICES. So for some background I’m a costume designer so I actually spent a lot of time doing research for these outfits and also I pay way to much attention to detail so get ready for an infodump because im a nerd.

DEAN

ok so my headcanon for the jacket (and if u read the og post this will make more sense hgafkgsjk) is that Dean stole it from John the night he and Sam ran away and he starts to modify it and make it his own and put patches on it that would piss off John and thats why he keeps wearing it because he took this thing his dad loved and made it his own and that is the ultimate “fuck you” to John.

Dean keeps his hair in a really short crew cut because i really enjoy Dean teasing Sam about their hair being long

Sam and Dean dye their hair in motel bathrooms and Dean changes colour every other month meanwhile Sam just dyes their hair black because “i dont want to damage my hair with bleach Dean”

I had a lot of fun with the patches and most are pretty self explanatory BUT i want to draw attention to: 

the handprint patch on Dean’s shoulder right above where the actual handprint is

the patch that says “i love my non binary child” is the first patch that goes on the jacket because Dean wants to support Sam and it is thee ultimate patch that would piss John off

The bee patch was a gift from Cas <3

Deans shirt is ripped from hunting but he likes the aesthetic of it 

The chain around his neck is silver or iron or some other useful ghosthunting metal

also the tattoo on Dean’s hand is inspired by this one fic its so good please read it

Dean wears a bunch of jewelry and you can’t see it but he also has a bunch of tattoos

SAM

Sam wears platform boots and it makes them like 7 feet tall but its ok its what they deserve

I said this in the tags but ill say it again: Sam got the spiked choker because they were tired of getting strangled by monsters all the time and honestly i think a lot of canon!Sam’s problems could be solved if he just wore a spiked choker

Anytime Dean teases Sam about their fashion choices Sam always tells him thats its for practical reasons. The rosary? Its for making holy water in a pinch. The ripped fishnets? they’ll just get ripped anyways. The platform boots? its too intimidate monsters. The spiked choker? Its self defence Dean come on, it’s a purely tactical decision, no aesthetic reason at all.

Sam modified the sweater themself. Spent the long hours in the car embroidering an exorcism onto a cropped sweater (it didn’t use to be cropped, but a werewolf clawed into the bottom part of it and well. here we are) in pink thread and sewing some black lace onto the hem.

why yes, Sam’s skirt does have a blood splatter on it!! you would think this would get Sam some suspicious looks, but their aesthetic is so Like That that people assume its just painted on in an attempt to be edgy. People who assume this are wrong.

Sam likes wearing revealing clothing because it lets other people see how insanely strong and muscled they are and alt!Sam loves being absolutely intimidating to people.

Like. Imagine. This seven foot tall giant shows up, wearing all black and spikes and you can see their insanely muscular thighs under the fishnets and oh god why do they have so many scars you Do Not Want To Mess With Them.

to be clear I think alt!Sam is just as much a sweetheart as canon!Sam is but they dont try to make themself look smaller

CAS

The shirt Cas is wearing says “BOB the man, the myth, the legend” and it is very much based on a shirt my lovely gf has.

The reason cas is dressed Like That is because he woke Jimmy up in the middle of the night and the tshirt and sweatpants and the socks are Jimmy’s pyjamas and of course he had to grab his coat and put on his crocs shoes before leaving the house to get possessed by an angel, he’s a sensible man!!!

ok so i need to talk about the crocs because some people seem unhappy about them. Castiel does not care about human fashion standards. He does not care about how he is perceived by others. Crocs are sturdy, comfortable, practical shoes to him and thats all that matters, why are you laughing Dean? They’re waterproof!

I honestly don’t know why i drew Cas with hoop earrings it just felt right but my current headcanon is because he say Beyoncé wearing some or something.

ok trench coat doodles time!!!!! there are many of them and i wont go into all of them but here are a few noteworthy ones

the one on the top right is based off a lil doodle one of writers did for a fan I think??? I can’t remember someone please link the post ;;

dean just doodles lil bees and hearts all over the place because they make Cas happy

theres a badly drawn Leviathan on there. in case you were wondering what that is

so many games of tic tac toe were played on the trench coat. Sam always takes the circles. Sam always wins.

the big heart on the bottom right contains a doodle of the poodle Dean found hot on that one terrible episode. I’m not sorry. 

I did draw an airplane with gun arms. it’s an inside joke i have with my gf. No i will not elaborate. I think that Dean drew that on there because he thought the idea was funny.

bottom left corner has cool sun wearing sunglasses because we are all kindergarteners 

the SW and DW drawn on the coat are because they put their initials on the places they call home. 

Thank u for your ask my apologies for writing ten million words about it please enjoy

[shepherds-of-haven]

College!Au of Shepherd members? What likely are they (i.e. jock, player in the soccer team, bad-boy, the clichès.)? definitely not thinking of writing an au, and im certainly not thinking of maybe making a small edit about it. nOt aT aLl cApTAiN

Hi there! Have you seen the college AU asks? This one is pretty detailed about what kind of students they are, and this one is more succinct with their majors/minors! But I’m always happy to go more in-depth about AUs! 😉

In my imagination, Blade, Trouble, and Chase were suite-mates freshman year and get an apartment together when they’re not living on campus. (Halek, Red, and Riel are also roommates and then Riel can’t stand living in a dorm anymore so he buys a townhome with his family’s money and allows Halek and Red to live there to give himself some semblance of a social life.)

Blade is the scion of a very wealthy family who’s expected to take over the family business one day. Instead he majors in Criminal Justice and--in my imagination--secretly aims to become either a detective or a prosecutor because he suspects his family is involved with criminal organizations. He’s generally quiet, solemn, broody, and troubled (just like in the game lol) and is only dragged out to do “normal” college things by Trouble and Chase’s persistence! He’s in the fencing club and also goes to a mixed martial arts gym off-campus, sometimes with Trouble, which also happens to be the one Briony goes to. 

Trouble is in ROTC and majors in mechanical engineering, with dreams of joining the Air Force and becoming a pilot after graduation if he can keep his grades up. For some reason I have this idea that he got into this university on a soccer scholarship? He plays guitar and later gets a dog because fuck it, he’s always wanted one, and he’s rebuilding an old motorcycle in his spare time at this garage where his old school friends work. He definitely wears bomber jackets and letterman jackets like, a lot. He’s very popular and considered a “jock,” but a friendly one! He has an English class with Red and a math class with Riel, going to both of their study groups and then driving them crazy because he either doodles instead of studying or texts. Part-time, I feel like he delivers pizzas for some reason...

Chase is the third part of their trio and is more lax about his studies than the other two (which is a bad influence on Trouble). He does not talk at all about his family or home life and generally spends the holidays with either Blade or Trouble’s families. He’s an undeclared major and has no idea what he wants to do after college and is not worrying about it. He pays smart kids to do his homework for him, so he has an excellent GPA, much to the class president’s (Riel) fury. He’s part of a frat but doesn’t actually drink at parties, more concerned that everyone’s having a good time and making fun memories than he is about himself. He doesn’t allow any scummy behavior in the frat and secretly, on a whim, auditioned for a student play and is surprisingly very into it, to the point where he asks Briony and Trouble for help with his lines. After throwing a huge party where [x] happens, he starts a group chat with everybody involved in this story and it’s sort of how they all become friends, even though many of them already knew each other individually. Oh, and he’s very into Tinder, much to the chagrin of his other two roommates.

I think Briony, Ayla, and Lavinet are also roommates, and so are Shery, Tallys, and Mimir. Briony-Ayla-Lavinet’s place (BAL? Brionaylavi?) is Party Central, whereas Shery-Tallys-Mimir’s place (STM? Shallir?) is Quiet Coffee-Drinking Art Loft Sometimes Hipster Slam Poetry Book Clubs Central. 

Briony is either a journalism student or a law student, I can’t really decide. She takes a lot of extracurriculars at their university as a way to blow off steam, including a painting class (which is where she met Shery) and a horseback riding class, because why not? She has been training at the same mixed martial arts gym since she was a teenager, and she starts bringing Ayla and Lavinet there so they can defend themselves when they’re not altogether. Despite her cheerful attitude and popularity around campus, she seems to be running from a past back in her hometown that she doesn’t talk to anyone about, not even her closest friends: an obsessive ex and a dark past are just some of the things she doesn’t want catching up to her. Sometimes she earns part-time money covering shifts at the cafe Shery works at. 

Ayla is a journalism/communications student who will later switch majors to hospitality and hate it. She gives wilderness tours and white-water-rafting tours in the summers as a seasonal job and plays volleyball on the university team during the spring seasons and track and field during the fall. Her grades are abysmal and she goes to the tutoring center often for help, which is how she meets Red and Riel. She rides a Vespa around town and also attends the yoga class that Tallys teaches. Yes she wears leather jackets and occasionally beanies. She was too cheap to a buy a meal plan at the university cafeteria so she often skims from others or uses their extra meals before the week runs out. She is a lover of junk food and crams their apartment pantry with all manner of chips, soda, ramen, packaged mac and cheese, and etc! She also definitely games. 

Lavinet is a wealthy socialite daughter of the CEO and founder of a huge conglomerate: think a Paris Hilton, but more grounded. She’s majoring in business and political science, being groomed to take over her father’s role, but she wants a taste of “normal” life before that happens. All of her rich friends from high school thinks she’s slumming it with the other kids, but Lavinet’s having the time of her life. She tries not to stand out too much, but she unconsciously does, anyway: wearing designer coats and sunglasses to class, driving a flashy convertible, and keeping her books in a high-end handbag, because backpacks are “schlubby.” She means well but can sometimes be a bit of a drama queen to her roommates. She also loves juicy gossip and eats it up! She has been known to take her roommates’ phones and flirt for them with potential dates. She has a popular vlog and Instagram account, which I imagine is how Briony’s dark past catches up to her. She loves to get coffee at the shop that Shery and sometimes Briony work at and always seems to have a latte in her hand. She can point at any given person and name what lipstick they would be if they were one. She’s fairly good at her studies and loves to be in charge of study groups and gets into a war with another girl who tries to ‘poach’ her study partners. She absolutely takes French and fashion design classes and heads all over campus turn when she walks past!

Red, Riel, and Halek live in what is known as the “Nerd House.” Red is pretty much always at coffee shops and libraries, studying and reading, so much so that he doesn’t notice multiple other students checking him out in his rolled-up sweater sleeves and messenger bag. He’s got a bit of an “Academic Hipster” vibe and definitely has hipster tastes in music and books. He goes to poetry readings at cafes (of which Mimir is a staple) and goes on a lot of first dates that don’t lead anywhere, giving him the reputation of either a really picky person or a playboy. Does he wear glasses? Absolutely. Is it because he needs them? Probably not. On some subconscious level he is probably aware that he looks smart and cute in them. Sometimes he plays pickup soccer with Trouble’s practice team (he played in high school) when he realizes he’s been sitting around too long reading and needs to get some blood pumping! He studies philosophy and history as a double-major. 

Riel is the class president and later valedictorian of their class. He majors in math, business and finance, history, and psychology as one of the university’s only “quadruple majors”. He comes from an extremely wealthy family that has donated so much money to the school that many of the buildings have his last name on them. Occasionally he volunteers at the tutoring center, where his worst and most rebellious student is Ayla, who he vows to break. You can often find him in the music building, reserving one of the practice rooms to play beautiful classical piano, which he doesn’t like to play at home with his roommates around. He abhors eating or studying outside because, mysteriously, every time he walks through the quad, a frisbee hits him in the head. He is the head of a business fraternity that is constantly being pranked by Chase’s frat. 

Halek initially attended their university as a Food Science major, but dropped out and now attends the culinary arts institute across the street. (His twin brother, Naolin, goes to a prestigious university across the country and is studying to become a doctor.) He works as a barista at the cafe where Shery and sometimes Briony work as servers: the one with sleepy eyes that you end up spilling your life story to when you sit at the counter to drink your frappe and study. Plays the drums in a band that performs at open-mic nights and owns a tank of fish. In class he was constantly falling asleep at his desk but has no trouble now. Definitely smokes weed in his room occasionally and has a litany of tattoos up and down his forearms and hands (and for that matter, Ayla does too).

Finally, the Art Loft trio, Tallys, Shery, and Mimir, who definitely have a garden on their roof and hang their clothes up to dry in the sun up there, which Lavinet for whatever reason refers to as their “solarium.”

Tallys is a plant biology major who aims to be recruited into the country’s top holistic/nature-based pharmaceutical company. She teaches yoga outside of class to make money (and Ayla and sometimes Lavinet attend her morning classes). For whatever reason I feel like she smokes and looks really freaking cool doing it but decides to quit after a relative has a cancer scare. She enjoys classical music and plays the violin when she can. She is shares cooking duties with Shery and picks her up from her job at the cafe so she doesn’t have to walk home at night, leading many to mistakenly assume they’re girlfriends. She constantly has AirPods/earphones in, listening to music, and rarely speaks to others outside of class. Strangely, she owns a flip phone and owns no social media. 

Shery is a nursing student who loves to cook and bake as a hobby. She’s a natural introvert and prefers to stay in with her roommates, watching TV while she embroiders, or something, but one day she decides she wants to be more social and that’s how she befriends Halek and Briony. She owns a cat who rules the roost in their apartment as well as a hamster. She keeps detailed diaries and also writes poetry, but is too shy to share it with anyone, including Mimir, her roommate who’s an art major. She always wears pastels and very cute clothing and is a straight-A student. Her parents are pretty stingy so she works at a coffee shop, the Haven, as a way to earn money. She’s also helping with costume design for Chase’s play and rides a bike to campus and to work. She’s close with her professors and often visits them during office hours just to chat.

Mimir is an art student who’s making a big splash in the local scene, as she’s regarded as something of a young genius for her bizarre slam poetry and cryptic, surrealistic paintings. She often does readings at the Haven coffee shop during open-mic nights, and she constantly wears a hoodie, even to class. She paints her nails black and rocks that goth artist aesthetic, complete with dark eye makeup and black lipstick. She rarely speaks, but when she does, it’s usually to say something startlingly-insightful or incredibly mysterious. She feeds birds in the main quad on campus, to the point where they recognize her and will fly to her hand. She smells constantly of incense and can sometimes be seen rummaging around in trash cans on campus for her art installations. There is a mysterious cloaked figure on campus who rides a unicycle while blowing on bagpipes that also spew fire that everyone thinks is her, and she only smiles and fades away when anyone asks. 

[zirkkun-uthcs]

Generic Headcanons (Sanses)

This list includes short bits of information on the various Sanses to be included on this blog. If you’re looking for a specific one, please use CTRL+F to search for the AU, due to the length of this list. Reminder as well that most of this information is entirely headcanon. If there’s canon information that I’ve messed up somewhere on this, please let me know so I can fix it and adjust accordingly!

Please note: When answering asks, I will first list the character being requested in the format of AU!Sans, but the nicknames here are listed because sometimes I drift off while writing and lean towards those names.

Undertale

Nickname/s: Comic, Tale Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / asexual

+ takes a lot of time to like someone at all, usually by default doesn’t trust people + isn’t a fan of physical contact, but if someone was to manage to get close to him, he’s incredibly cuddly + horrible with directions, will get lost really easily; uses shortcuts to make up for it

character tag

Underswap (original concept by p0pcornpr1nce, who has left the fandom and deleted the content)

Nickname/s: Blue Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: non-binary Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / bisexual

+ is a pun connoisseur; will only accept the best puns, anything less is just unacceptable + is emotional, but tries to hide it because he feels the need to keep on a strong persona for the sake of everyone else +  is secretly an incredibly talented writer and has a lot of written works in his room

character tag

Underfell (original concept by Vic the Underfella)

Nickname/s: Red, Fell Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: panromantic / pansexual

+ is extremely self-conscious and hides this by acting like as much of a confident asshole as possible + crushes incredibly easy due to the lack of caring people he has in his life, but refuses to believe he’s lovable + secretly hates cats. doomfanger may or may not be the cause of this

character tag

Underlust  (original concept by nsfwshamecave, who has left the fandom.)

Nickname/s: Lust, Lusty Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: biromantic / bisexual

+ is secretly a hopeless romantic, but has yet to meet anyone interested in romance over sex, so he takes what he can get + flirts with anything that breathes; has a plethora of horrible pick-up lines + has been outside of his own AU and is well-versed in the multiverse

character tag

Xtale (by jakei)

Nickname/s: Cross Date of Birth: Oct. 10th Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / bisexual

+ has difficulty trusting anyone anymore due to the betrayal he’s had in the past + he finds comfort in doodling or other art-related things, and can often be found locked away for hours doing so + will wear literally anything but his uniform when no one’s around, no matter how stupid it looks

character tag

Ink (by myebi/comyet) (same headcanons apply to Underverse!Ink)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: April 15 Height: 3′9″ / 116 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: aromantic / asexual

+ his ink vials’ colors represent: green = comfort/safety, yellow = joy/energy, orange = encouragement/creativity, red = wrath/violence, pink = love/care, purple = lust/attraction, blue = sadness/concern, cyan = calm/relaxed + refuses to ever drink his pink or purple vials anymore due to the fact he doesn’t want to mislead people into thinking he cares about them + his tastes change based on what emotions he’s feeling/ink he’s drank

character tag underverse-specific

Pale (by unu-nunu-art/unu-nunium)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: May 26th Height: 3′9″ / 116 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: aromantic / asexual

+ clings to people who help him literally only once, because he considers all nice gestures as “Oh, so we’re friends now?” + appreciates any and all physical contact and can get a bit nervous if he’s near someone but can’t hug them + when he absorbs an AU for emotions, he has even more emotions that Ink does, but it’s far more temporary

character tag

Fresh!Ink (by myebi/comyet)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: ??? Height: 5′0″ / 152 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: aromantic / asexual

+ is a parasite like Fresh is, but isn’t the same exact one; they exist as separate beings + doesn’t ever really drink ink vials, hence why he’s replaced them with his spray cans entirely, which just contain normal pain + enjoys making large street-art style murals, but never keeps them, so he places them in hugely inconvenient parts of the multiverse just to annoy people

character tag

Error (by loverofpiggies/CrayonQueen) (same headcanons apply to Underverse!Error)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: April 4th Height: 5′4″ / 163 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / demisexual

+ doesn’t trust anyone and would rather just dispose of someone before he gets the chance to even try and trust them + has tried to delete his own emotions on several occasions, but concludes he must lose his SOUL to do so, and is too scared he’ll die + lacks logic due to the fact that he’s a glitch in a program, meaning he can no longer create logical conclusions

character tag underverse-specific

Template (by unu-nunu-art/unu-nunium)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: April 3rd Height: 4′5″ / 135 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / demisexual

+ constantly does a plethora of redeemable, good things within the multiverse to compensate for the fact he’s an “Error” + tries to be more comfortable with things like hugs in order to further distance himself from Error, despite also having haphephobia. + unlike Error, remembers his past as Geno a lot more vividly

character tag

Ragnartale (by NaomyMikolMaria) (please note I’m a bit behind on this AU)

Nickname/s: Knight Date of Birth: ??? Height: 5′5″ / 165 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: heteroromantic / demisexual

+ doesn’t like using his magic anymore, but can’t exactly remember why it leaves a bad taste in his mouth + actively tries to void out his emotions for others’ sake, as he finds his own life far less valuable + part of him likes being a monster more than a human, because he thinks he looks horrible now and that more people will leave him alone

character tag

Dusttale (by ask-dusttale)

Nickname/s: Dust, Dusty Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: lithromantic / asexual

+ absolutely despises all humans and it wouldn’t be surprising if he tried to kill any on sight + can often be seen talking aloud to “himself,” but he’s actually talking to “Papyrus” + has the same observant skills as Sans and is just as quick on his feet if not faster, however he’s also more rash in his decision-making due to his insanity.

character tag

Fresh (by loverofpiggies/CrayonQueen)

Nickname/s: None Date of Birth: April 20th (pretends it’s April 1st) Height: 6′3″ / 191 cm Gender: genderfluid Pronouns: he/him or they/them Sexuality: aromantic / asexual

+ while he be default doesn’t have any emotions, if for some reason he starts to feel anything, he will reject it immediately, and become incredibly harsh + started dressing in 90′s clothes as a joke, now he enjoys them unironically and has genuinely started watching human 90′s shows + sends memes to Error just to piss him off; his favorite to send is Rick Rolls

character tag

Outertale (by 2mi127)

Nickname/s: Outer Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / asexual

+ because he can see the stars all the time, he’s far more fascinated by the Earth’s sun and atmosphere compared to other Sanses + has had his jacket since he was a kid but just didn’t bother getting rid of it. that and he never outgrew it. sometimes people still think he’s a kid because of it + gets cold easily; his jacket is extremely thick and fuzzy to make up for this

character tag

Altertale (by friisans)

Nickname/s: Guardian Date of Birth: ??? Height: 4′9″ / 145 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: biromantic / demisexual

+ despises his brother so much that he won’t even look in his general direction and will likely burn or destroy anything that reminds him of his brother + appears very calm and collected most of the time, but can easily turn around and be manipulative or angry when least expected + is horrible at keeping watch of the human children because he always teaches them how to exploit things and they use that against him

character tag

Aftertale (by loverofpiggies/CrayonQueen)

Nickname/s: Geno Date of Birth: ??? Height: 5′0″ / 152 cm Gender: demiboy Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: demiromantic / demisexual

+ is really bad at social interaction due to extended isolation and because of that may come off as blunt or rude + if anyone acts friendly around him, especially if they are a more physical kind of person, he will instantly not trust them + seeing spaghetti is a sure way to make him burst into tears, but he’ll pretend he’s not actually crying

character tag

Swapfell (by poptatochisp and community)

Nickname/s: Mal Date of Birth: ??? Height: 5′3″ / 160 cm Gender: cisman Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: panromantic / demisexual

+ doesn’t do well with people who disagree with him. this will cause genuine unintended arguments over the smallest things + very formal in most situations possible, but assumes everyone else should be too + is bad at emotions, just, in general. understanding them, having them, everything

character tag