#based on one of my early childhood photos | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wileys-russo · 3 months

Text

love is blind II l.williamson x reader

based around this request here but changed it up a little! love is blind II l.williamson x reader

entering the stadium and making your way down court side your eyes lit up in wonder, raking the thousands of cheering fans clad in their favorite teams colors, chatter bouncing off the walls backed by the upbeat pump of the music in the background as both teams warmed up for the game.

you'd been in new york working for six months now, subletting a room from one of your childhood pen pals which had somehow stood the tests of time, a unique friendship you treasured dearly even if she was an absolute hurricane on her best days.

working as a freelance photographer had lead you to live a colorful life to say the least. you'd been travelling the world from the moment you'd decided to drop out of your rational business degree, deciding much to your parents worry that sort of career just wasn't for you.

but though you'd hopped from one city to the next you'd never really existed in one place long enough to set down solid roots as a large part of your heart always remained back home with your loved ones.

photography far from the most steady income flow it would be an understatement to say at times your situation had been stretched, and you'd learned to become quite the adaptable and creative chef when living from dollar to dollar in some remote corners of the worlds.

but new york had been providing job after job, an endless list of up and coming talents forever wanting headshots, subbing in last minutes as an assitant on shoots for the experience and even shooting for a few magazines along the way had kept you here longer than intended.

but as you grew older and your family expanded, a whole horde of nieces and nephews you hardly saw compiling back home, you found your heart for once longing to settle, to find a reason to set down some roots and maybe a full time job to go with it.

but for now your brother had somehow swung you these courtside tickets for you and your roommate, though with a raging hangover she'd refused to leave the bed, only returning home around nine this morning in a different dress she'd left home in and without shoes you'd known from that very moment you'd likely be venturing to the game tonight alone.

but well traveled on your own that wasn't anything that scared you, you were anyone but someone who dismissed a new experience even if it was a solo one.

which is exactly how you found yourself subtly counting the seats as you made your way down the very front row, making a mental note to smack your brother the next time you saw him for how much he'd likely splashed on these seats which were an early birthday present.

finally finding your seat you were surprised to find it already occupied, a blonde head of hair in jorts and a white button up lazing about comfortably with a drink in her hand.

even without speaking a word you could sense the strong personality oozing from her, loud laughter echoing about as she conversed with a couple of men in the row behind her, an aura of confidence hanging in the air which had your stomach twisting at needing to interrupt her.

"hi i'm so sorry but i think you're in my seat." leah glanced up at the new voice breaking away from her conversation she was previously occupied in, breath catching at the eyes she found herself looking up into.

"i'm 7a, sorry." you winced showing her your ticket on your phone, never having been one for confrontation but the court side seats had been a gift and if the sender didn't see you utilizing them on the tv you'd be getting your ear chewed off without a doubt.

"oh shit no i'm sorry! i didn't even think to check the number i just sat down in the right row." leah apologized sincerely glancing around for jason who had her ticket and lanyard still in his pocket, finding him on the other side of the court taking photos with a group of players.

the seat next to her free leah shuffled over one, allowing you to take your seat as you placed your bag under you and crossed one leg over the other.

"i'm leah." the blonde introduced herself with a smile as you settled a little seeing she wasn't upset like you'd feared but rather seeming quite friendly.

introducing yourself you shook her hand with a laugh as she stuck it out toward you. "how very formal of you." you teased, surprisingly at ease with the english woman finding comfort in the familiar accent in the vast sea of americans you'd been swimming in these last few months.

"well you'd know first and foremost how charming the english are. thought you might want a taste of home! which would be..." leah trailed off with a raised eyebrow.

"i was brought up not to share my home address with strangers. weren't you taught about stranger danger as a child!" you smiled playfully as leah turned herself a little more to face you.

"leah williamson. england captain, european champion, newly appointed basketball fan, first time in new york. i have a younger brother, my grandma is my best mate and i kick a ball round for a living. i spoke at the united nations earlier today and i'm drinking away the nerves i said something terrible because i practically blacked out and can't remember anything!" leah held her drink up in a silent cheers, downing the rest of what appeared to be a gin and tonic with a wink.

"go on stranger, your turn." the blonde encouraged with a flick of her hand as you smiled, finally clocking where she looked familiar. you weren't a massive sports fan, which was ironic given your current location, but you'd have to be completely blind not to recognize the captain of the lionesses after their huge euros win.

"freelance photographer and business school drop out, lived in this fine urban jungle in a shoebox for about six months now. sorry to hit your ego miss euros but i've never sat through a single football match without falling asleep! my dog is my best friend and i'm the youngest of six, the final perfect creation one might say." you grinned, leah rolling her eyes playfully.

"a humble one too it would seem. now look! no longer strangers are we? thank god danger averted." the blonde exhaled wiping at her brow in mock relief before bumping her knee into yours with a grin.

as the announcer started to call out the lineups and the crowd erupted in volume leah shuffled just a tiny bit closer and leant in so she could continue to talk to you, basketball now really the last thing on her mind.

by the final buzzer you couldn't care less who'd won or lost having spent almost the entire game chattering away to leah who seemed more than content to fill in the gaps of your sports knowledge, taking any opportunity she could to slip in a teasing remark about your lack thereof.

"well leah it was lovely to spend some time with such a charming brit! even if you are from milton keynes." you sent leah a dazzling smile and a wink which flipped her stomach, the blonde waving off jason who tried to capture her attention on her other side.

"you may not share my bursting pride and joy for the greatest place on gods green earth but without my ongoing commentary and extensive sports knowledge i'm sure you'd have been bored out of your mind. and now you can tell your brother you sat court side and share his appreciation of this fine game!" leah grinned back, fingers drumming against the lip of her cup.

"mm and imagine his shock when i tell him it was all thanks to an arsenal player, i'll be disowned mind you!" you smacked her knee with a roll of her eyes only causing her grin to widen.

"god i almost forgot you come from a chelsea loving family, disgraceful behaviour that mate." leah grimaced with visible disgust, covering her mouth as she spoke the c word making you laugh and smack her knee again, your hand lingering there for a moment.

as you pulled away leah found herself missing the touch, trying to shake herself out of it and putting it down to the alcohol buzzing through her head.

"i should really get going i'm meeting someone for dinner, but it was lovely sitting and speaking with you." you started sincerely, standing to your feet as leah did the same.

"me too, it was a pleasure to provide you with an in depth basketball crash course." leah joked as you laughed, the sound sending a strange feeling coursing through her stomach.

"i really would have been bored out of my mind without you here, enjoy the rest of your trip. i'll be sure to look out for your UN speech online i'm sure you smashed it!" leahs cheek flushed pink as you leant in and pressed a soft kiss to it, sending her a kind smile and before she could utter another single syllable you were gone.

"beth! i am telling you she's a no show. i've waited here for thirty minutes man i'm not wasting the rest of my night!" leah huffed, whisper yelling down the phone to her supposed expert match making friend, slumping down further in her seat.

meanwhile on the opposite side of the restaurant your eyebrows furrowed as you sent your tinder date yet another message which was left on delivered, rolling your eyes and locking your phone with a defeated huff.

"yeah? well your friends name must be casper." leah rolled her eyes unimpressed with beths attempts to make excuse for the mystery woman she'd insisted on setting leah up with, an old family friend who'd lived in new york the last few years who leah just had to meet.

"christ beth i know thats not her name for fuck sakes. i meant because it would appear she's a ghost you numpty!" leah groaned, flashing an apologetic smile toward the couple the table over who gave her an odd look.

"no she's a no show of course just my luck. are you still up for a drink? i can meet you literally anywhere that isn't here. see i told you tinder wasn't for me!" you sighed over the phone, abandoning your half finished drink and grabbing your bag off the counter.

"no i am not going to give it a few more minutes mccabe. now beth call your mate and tell her to lose my number, i told the two of you a blind date was an awful idea but did you listen? no!" leah sternly told off the women on the other end of the phone before hanging up with a frustrated huff and declining the incoming call which followed.

standing from her chair the defender sent the waitress an awkward smile who'd been sending her pitiful glances from the moment she sat down alone at the table clearly set for two.

"oh you're already out? yeah send me the address and i'll get a taxi to soho, and i will be deleting tinder on my way over!" you warned, wincing a little as your friend returned inside and you could clearly hear the music blasting in the background of wherever she was.

not having ordered anything bar a drink she'd already paid for leah bypassed the hostess as she made a hurried beeline for the exit. but too focused on not being seen by the prying woman she knew would ask questions, leah didn't watch where she was walking and suddenly her body collided with another as she stepped outside.

"christ! do you not have eyes?" that voice.

leah sat up from her place on the floor as you did the same, angry features softening at the familar face staring back at you guiltily. "i do in fact have eyes, just forget to use them sometimes." leah winced with a sheepish smile as your own lips curled up in amusement.

"i thought athletes were supposed to be coordinated." you mocked as she hurried to her feet and offered you her hands which you took gratefully, the taller girl hauling you up and steadying you as you nearly slipped again.

"whats whitney houstons favorite form of coordination?" leah blurted out randomly as you gave her a curious look. "hand eyee!" leah sung, loudly, proudly and a little off key as you couldn't help but burst out with a surprised laugh, leahs face lighting up at the sound.

"you really are the perfect combination of charming and strange." you teased, the two of you making your way down the steps out front of the restaurant. "well the world would be incredibly dull if everyone was ill mannered and normal now wouldn't it?" leah countered with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"so your dinner-" "after the game i-"

you both blushed slightly in the crisp autumn evening as you spoke at the same time. "your dinner, that was fast. is this a normal new york dine and dash?" leah smiled, the two of you starting to walk aimlessly down the street.

"well normally when you meet someone for dinner they show up, so more of a dash without the dine!" you admitted with an annoyed huff, phone still clear of any notifications from your so called date.

"if it makes you feel any better you're singin to the choir. normally when you're set up on a blind date the date in question shows up." leah countered with an empathetic smile as you frowned, unable to understand how the tall charming admittedly quite gorgeous blonde in front of you could have possibly been stood up.

it wasn't as if you hadn't noticed her beauty at the game, but you were far too busy being swept up by her witty one liners, passionate commentary, teasing remarks and sharp sense of humor to really focus all too much on the physicality of it all.

but now you were you found yourself rather enamored with and maybe starting to harbor a slightly juvenile crush on the tall footballer walking by your side.

"dates huh? the worst part of being single." you sighed with an understanding shake of your head, leah humming her agreement and jolting as you suddenly stopped in your tracks. "where are we actually going?" you asked with a laugh, realizing the two of you were truly just wandering without a destination.

"how about for a drink? normally when i try to sweep a girl off her feet thats how i'd start to go about it, not actually taking her down off her feet." leah quipped with a charming smile, pearly white teeth flashing at you cheekily.

"well its the least you can do, think i might have uh tore a quad or a hammy maybe on that fall? oh ref! ref! book her for it!" you faked an injury, bending down to grab at your leg as leah withheld the urge to smile and shook her head at you.

"very funny. you know we could get you on the pitch with diving skills like that! not for arsenal though, we frown upon that sort of reckless, illegitimate and downright unprofessional behavior." leah puffed her chest out with a wave of her hand as you shoved her playfully.

"you know i could get you some acting classes as a gift if you'd like? after all we're only a few streets away from broadway. might win the league with some polished poor tackles, grunts of pain and strategic pens." you teased, leah scoffing at your words.

"well firstly i am utterly offended at that. but secretly i'm quite proud you retained that much football lingo in only a couple of hours, by the time i'm done with you you'll be wearing red, chanting my name and screaming north london forever!" leah smirked, stepping closer to you with a twinkle in her eye.

"and by the time i'm done with you football might just be the very last thing on your mind." you quipped back with a flirty smile, the burst of sudden confidence catching leah a little off guard as she tilted her head, looking down at you as you caught her gaze flicker toward your lips which curled up victoriously.

"so, about that drink?" "i think i know a place."

"-and you're sure about this? i don't want you to feel rushed baby." you frowned down at your girlfriend, absentmindedly playing with her hair as her head lay in your lap.

"never been more certain my girl. as much as i love having you all to myself with the move back now i'd love to have you finally meet the girls." leah assured, reaching a hand up to squish your cheeks with a soft smile.

it was safe to say that night in new york and the promise of one drink had wound up as many more with leah stumbling into your shoebox of an apartment with your hand over her mouth desperately trying to stiffle the drunken giggles she couldn't seem to hold back as to not wake your roommate.

it didn't work, your roommate leaping out of the shadows with a baseball bat scaring the two of you half to death as leah pushed you behind her and chucked her fists up, barely able to stand on her own feet as she swayed to and fro.

quickly ushering leah to your bedroom you guiltily sent your friend a smile and promised to explain in the morning, the girl sending you a knowing look of amusement and a hum before retreating back to her own bed.

that night you and leah stayed up talking for hours and hours about everything and nothing, your hand consistently smacking over her mouth as she was unable to control the volume of her boisterous laugh, her tongue licking your palm each time making you squeal and slap her before she'd use the moment to steal a kiss with a cheeky grin.

beyond a few lazy drunken kisses not much more happened, leah waking up still a little tipsy only mere hours later with her phone filled with missed calls and a pounding headache.

feeling her stir and shuffle around looking for her phone you'd woken not long afterward, an anxiety that she was going to leave without another word simmering at the surface of your partially conscious state as she slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

disappointment flooded you momentarily before you shook it off best you could, reminding that one night stands were more than normal and just because you weren't accustomed to them didn't mean leah owed you anything more.

but to your surprise she returned quickly having sent the messages she needed to in order to free up her day, sliding back into bed with you with a smile and a tired sigh.

"good morning." the blonde rasped out, voice cracked and clearly struggling as you offered her the bottle of water from your nightstand which she accepted gratefully.

an old t-shirt of yours hanging off of her taller form it amused you the way it almost looked like a crop top with the height difference, a gentle teasing remark about it falling from your lips as leah playfully flicked your nose and laid back down.

her arms wrapping around you was a foreign yet comforting feeling, a sense of safety that was unknown to you encompassing where you both lay beneath the duvet tangled up together, not another word uttered as within a few minutes you felt her grip relax slightly and her breathing even out.

sleeping away most of the day you'd later asked her out to dinner with the promise of helping her refuel the energy you'd stole from her with the two of you talking well into the early morning, leah eagerly agreeing.

parting after dinner with a lengthy kiss you'd exchanged numbers with a sense of uncertainty of where this could go, leah flying back to london the following morning and you with jobs lined up for the following month.

but with both of you clearly curious and seemingly eager, messages turned into calls which grew to facetimes, and suddenly leah was jetting over to visit you for a few days and you were secretly sneaking off to london to see her, hiding from your family the knowledge you were back.

on the third time you'd met up again leah laid it out for you, admitting she wasn't one for a long distance relationship and hadn't expected to fall for you the way she had, but with the two of you rapidly growing feelings which seemed to be reciprocated you agreed to give it a go.

two months down together and you'd made the decision to return permanently back to england. promising leah over and over it wasn't solely for her and you already had some work lined up, as well as informing of the fact your mum was a few days away from putting your face on a milk carton claiming her daughter had been missing in action for far too long.

you'd intended to get your own place but staying with leah for the first couple of weeks while you looked around the two of you fell into a routine. then out for dinner one night the blonde had offered you a key and asked if you'd move in for good, and with her ever dazzling smile reeling you in how could you say no.

the two of you had kept your blossoming relationship quite quiet, really only meeting one anothers immediate family once you were ready and staying wrapped up in your little love bubble the last few weeks.

the honeymoon phase as leahs mum amanda had dubbed it with an amused smile, only seemed to grow as you and leah finally embraced being able to be together in the way you'd both craved from the very first moment she'd asked you to be her girlfriend.

you'd been having the ongoing conversation the last few days about starting to meet one anothers friends, that seeming the next step in your relationship which was what lead to the current conversation.

true to leahs words that very first night you met, she'd had her way and every weekend now had you bundled in her jersey and sat with her family watching her play, chanting along and proudly singing the angel before every match.

you'd obviously met a few of her close friends and teammates before, hardly able to hide the fact you were living together, but not officially as leahs girlfriend and most nights she had her own friends over you'd be out catching up with your own.

"i really want you to come out after the game and meet all the girls as my girl, officially." leah promised, interlacing her fingers with yours and bringing your knuckles to her mouth, kissing softly as you melted like putty in her hands.

"my pretty pretty lovely gorgeous girl." leah pushed herself to sit up, now hovering over you as her lips ghosted yours and she pulled away with a smirk as you chased them for a kiss, pouting when you didn't get your way.

"so needy." leah teased with a smile as you pinched her for the comment and captured her lips in a kiss, sighing happily as her mouth moved against yours perfectly, butterflies erupting and head spinning as it did every time leah was in your immediate vicinity.

"so. you'll come out tonight then?" leah pulled away and asked hopefully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pecking your lips a few times.

"mmm haven't decided yet baby, might need a few more of these to really seal the deal." you stroked your chin thoughtfully before tapping your lips with a smile and a wiggle of your eyebrows making your girlfriend hide a laugh.

"cheeky girl. well baby i guess i can accommodate these heinous demands!" leah sighed dramatically with a roll of her eyes, leaning back in and pressing her lips to yours with a smile.

"how are you feeling gorgous?" leah questioned softly as she parked the car, flicking off the engine and glancing toward you sat in the passenger seat. "nervous." you answered honestly as her hand sat on your thigh squeezed gently.

"i understand my love but i promise the girls are so excited to finally meet you, and i've never met someone as easy to get along with as you. they're all gonna love you and i'm gonna have to fight them for your attention all night!" leah pouted making you crack a smile.

"well you know i'm going home with you at the end of the night babe, and we both know once you have a couple drinks you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself anyway." you teased, leaning over the console to bridge the gap and press your lips to hers.

a few more sweet assurances and kisses later and you were walking into the bar where the girls and some of their loved ones were, leah taking your hand once you were inside and leading you down the back to where they all were, having booked it out for some privacy for them all post game.

a symphony of cheers sounding as the pair of you arrived you felt yourself become a little flustered as suddenly you were rushed by a small crowd of girls who leah shooed away.

instead taking you around to everyone one by one and introducing you, her hand never leaving your waist the entire time as her thumb traced gentle circles into your hip.

finally rounding to the final little group, most of whom you'd met in passing once or twice but again never officially as leahs girlfriend like she announced you now, the title still giving you the warm and fuzzies as you were pulled into a few hugs.

leah stopped the introductions for a moment when her eyes fell on an unfamiliar girl, beth quickly taking over and introducing her friend with an unreadable look flashed leahs way.

leah quickly realized why she was unfamiliar, this was beths friend from new york who to be fair beth had been discussing coming to visit her at training for the last few weeks but leah had only half tuned in, mind as always wandering to you most times it wasn't occupied by football.

hearing the name your chest tightened as you were now able to put two and two together, a gentle squeeze of leahs arm around your waist all you needed to settle again.

"i'm really sorry about what happened, i wasn't in the right space for dates but it was a dick move to just ghost you." the girl addressed leah with a wince who waved it off.

"don't be, if you hadn't we'd never have wound up together." leah was surprised to hear you speak up as your arm hugged her torso and you sent the girl a smile, leahs own lips curling into amusement as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"you two are adorable, i'm really glad things worked out an you found one another." the girl spoke sincerely and gave the pair of you a slightly awkward smile before she stepped away.

"sorry." beth winced guiltily at the defender before pulling you into another hug and warning leah she'd be stealing you a little later as your girlfriend pulled your back into her front protectively with a playful glare.

"i think...is that, you're looking a bit green babe? maybe with envy?" leahs hands fell either side of your face as she looked you over and you smacked her chest withholding a smile.

"you know its quite hot when you get a little possessive baby girl." leah gave you a wolfish grin. "well i only take after you my love, jealousy should be your middle name. need i bring up last weekend for example?" you smiled knowingly, fingers tracing her collarbone.

"he was all over you! i had every right." leah scowled instantly at the mention of the incident which had her dragging you away from a party you'd attended together for one of your siblings birthdays, leah spending the entire night afterwards showing you just how much you really were hers, worshiping your body for hours on end in every which way.

"you doin alright though babe?" leah murmured seriously, taking you aside into a more secluded corner as her eyes roamed over your face for any sign of discomfort.

"i'm good. might need a little help with everyones names for the first couple of hours but i'm good i promise, i'm glad we're finally doing this baby. i love you!" you puckered your lips as leah grinned and gave you what you want, echoing those three words back in between.

lost in the feeling of leahs lips on yours you didn't realise you'd gathered an audience, most of the girls watching on happily seeing how loved up the two of you were, others whispering teasing remarks about the blonde and just how smitten she was.

"oi lovebirds! your turn at pool, you can lock lips after we've kicked your asses."

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

912 notes · View notes

hedgehog-moss · 1 year

Photo

Rooster update: he is a gentleman so far. He follows my hen everywhere at a polite and respectful distance, scanning the area for enemies. I’ve not seen him make any advances whatsoever, he doesn’t seem interested in becoming a father; either he’s too young, or still a bit stressed and disconcerted by his change of environment, or he doesn’t like Dru this way, who knows. Pourvu que ça dure...!

Maybe Dru attacked him the first time he tried something—he doesn’t seem afraid of her any more, but the first morning after he arrived, he barrelled past Dru when I opened the coop and ran away flailing his wings, with high-pitched incoherent clucking, as if he were being chased by a pack of wild dogs. Pandolf, my hen and I stood there perplexed and watched him disappear into the forest. Part of me wanted to yell “I didn’t even want you!! you’re free to go!” and go home to have breakfast, but I couldn’t let him commit suicide by fox on his first day, so I took Pan home (thinking maybe the rooster had been scared of him), took my hen under my arm and spent half an hour on a rooster hunt in the woods. Dru clucks in annoyance if you touch her comb, so I would occasionally tickle it and she’d kÔtkÔtkwÊk and sometimes we’d hear a timid kwêk? in response which helped me narrow down the rooster’s position.

We ended up finding him perched on a branch, quite high up. I poked him with a long stick and he grudgingly moved back inch by inch until he was low enough for me to go up on tiptoes and pluck him like a large fruit. Then I carried him home singing the ballad of Sir Robin. When danger reared its ugly head / he bravely turned his tail and fled—Dru actually seems glad for his company, but she doesn’t know that this anxious bird is supposed to guard her from predators.

Here’s our boldly brave sir Robin strutting gallantly (photo taken with zoom because if I come any closer he flees)

Well, Dru’s new coopmate is very good at being a rooster in one capacity and that is crowing. He starts bright and early and continues throughout the day at random times, a beautifully-enunciated cocorico (he’s french)—I quite like it! The walls of my house are thick enough that it doesn’t wake me up in the morning, and during the day it’s a pleasant addition to the soundscape.

I had lunch with the librarian today and told her all about the rooster, and how I probably won’t be able to keep him since I’ll never meet the recommended minimum amount of hens per rooster. With 2 hens I already have a dozen eggs a week and that’s more than enough for me (+ cats and dog who also enjoy eggs.) The librarian was Team Rooster and said I should get more hens and bring her the eggs. “I’ll find clients.” She was already picturing herself as the nexus of a flourishing library-based egg trade, but most people around here keep chickens so I don’t think the demand will be there.

I showed someone else a picture of my rooster at the grocery shop and she exclaimed “He’s very decorative!” which I think would have made my rooster fluff up with pride. It’s the most validating thing you can say to a male bird. After I summarised the situation, my interlocutor came to the conclusion that I should give him to the librarian so he can become the new library pet. I said “He’ll make a mess” and she said “We can put sawdust on the ground like in old-school cafés...” But then she added that her grandchildren are a bit scared of roosters since they know they can be mean, and they might become afraid of going to the library. We agreed that my rooster shouldn’t be an obstacle to childhood literacy.

#crawling along #i'm glad he's not a nuisance (so far)!#i think he's too nervous about all these new animals he's meeting to remember his rooster duties #aside from strutting and crowing he's got that covered

1K notes · View notes

emberfrostlovesloki · 2 months

Text

The Cat's Out of the Bag [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@flowersforfrancis) Center (@hotchs-big-hands) Right (@grapeperfume)

Prompt: Aaron accidentally lets slip that he and the reader are together when the reader takes him home from the office while he has a cold. The team has a range of emotions about the news and Aaron and the reader go back to the office to face the music together.

Pairing: [established relationship] Aaron x BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.

Category: fluff/comfort

Word Count: 9.7K

Content Warnings: Sickness [cold/fever], headache, mention of abuse and beatings [in the past (Hotch)], minor mention of intimacy. Relationship reveal. If I missed any, please let me know.

A/N: Hi loves! If you are headed into Spring Break this week have fun and please be safe. If you don’t have a break this week, please don’t let the Sunday scaries get to you. Be kind to yourself today. This fic is based on my March CM Prompt List (linked) The prompt is, “A character manages to catch a cold in the middle of Spring.” I hope you like this little fluffy fic. It was really fun to write. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

y/n = your name

_y/f/r/a_ = your favorite relaxing activity

_y/c/h_ = your color hair

Aaron liked to have control over most things. Even in things he couldn’t or perhaps shouldn’t control, he still tried to. This could include running on an injured ankle, or going out even though he knew it was too hot for his liking in an outfit that didn’t suit the heat. Half of this had to do with the fact that he could be stubborn, and the other half was a bit darker. The times that he went over these limits had often to do with his ability to endure. He knew a good deal about endurance from his work as a prosecutor, the leader of the BAU, and most impactful to him, from his childhood. His father had often reminded him that he wasn’t strong or a man with his fists, or a belt, or bottle, or anything Mr. Hotchner senior could get a hold on, and Aaron had endured it. He’d lived beyond it. Even with that being the case, and him trying to work through his questions about inadequacy, he still pushed himself too hard sometimes. It was a sort of naturally ingrained response unless he caught it early on.

y/n had noticed this trait in him and had brought it up a few times when they were more stable in their relationship. It hadn’t exactly been an easy topic, as y/n wasn’t sure why Aaron, who cared about his health and ability to perform in the field would seem to hurt himself by doing something reckless by his standards. One afternoon, when he’d limped toward her, y/n tilted her head and said, “Hey, how was your run?” y/n had stayed behind to play with Jack on the swings and playground while Aaron got in his long Saturday run. He and y/n would normally go early, but they had both slept through their alarm due to a long case earlier that week, a swamp of paperwork when they got back and some mandatory training on Friday. All in all, it had been too long a week for anyone to like, and they needed the rest. Thus, the plans for the day had been postponed.

Aaron wiped a hand over his face and then over his shirt. y/n looked at Jack who was now on the slide and then back to Hotch. y/n noticed how he was favoring one foot. She knew his gait better than anyone and it was easy to tell that something was up. Aaron could see it in y/n’s face -- the concern. He tried to brush it off by saying, “It was fine. My time was slower than normal, but I’d say that it was because I was so tired.” What Aaron had said was a lie. His ankle had started to hurt about halfway through his run, but he’d ignored it and pressed on anyway. By the time he’d gotten to the last mile, his right ankle was throbbing in pain. He’d fixed his expression to the best of his ability when he rounded the bend where he’d see y/n. He didn’t want her to be concerned. His faking a normal expression and lying didn’t stop y/n from seeing that something was wrong. y/n was about to ask him to clarify because she didn’t have to tell him that he was lying to see that something was wrong. However, Jack came and hugged the back of her legs, looked up at his dad, and said, “Hi Daddy!” Aaron smiled and replied, “Hey Buddy. Did you have fun on the playground?” Jack nodded his head enthusiastically and said, “Mh hm, I made new friends.” This fact warmed Hotch’s heart. Jack could struggle sometimes in meeting new people. Aaron said, “That’s great, Jack. Now I hear that it’s going to get hot in a few minutes, so how about we head home?” Jack and y/n nodded, and y/n watched as Jack scrambled into his dad’s arms. Again she noticed the brief flash of pain on his face as they moved to the car.

y/n waited until they got to Aaron’s apartment and Jack was tucked in for a nap that y/n moved to Hotch’s bedroom to ask him what was up. She didn’t hope this ended in an argument, but it seemed like this was something he was keeping from her and Aaron could be so closed off about his personal life sometimes. But if he was hurting, y/n wanted to know about it. She moved into Hotch’s bedroom where he was taking off his shirt and getting ready for a shower. y/n stood in front of him as he was sitting on the bed and leaning down to take off his socks as y/n said, “Aaron, what’s going on? You looked like you were hurting back there in the park. Also when you picked up Jack.”

Aaron tried one last attempt to avoid this conversation as he said, “Well, my ankle is acting up a bit, but I’m sure it will be fine.” y/n blocked him from standing and took both of his large hands in hers. His fingers were calloused in the same places as hers from holding a gun or a pen in a grip that was probably too tight from stress. It was comforting to feel the thickness of his skin mirrored in her palm. y/n looked down at him and said, “Aaron please be honest with me?” Hotch looked down at their entwined hands and then back up at y/n. He didn’t like lying. So much of their relationship had been built on trust. They’d gotten together a few months after Haley had called their marriage quits. If Aaron was being honest, he’d loved y/n for a while before his union with Haley dissolved. But Hotch was a man who believed in his commitment to his wife and he’d never done or said anything to y/n, his newest agent, until long after he had his wife split. He loved Haley dearly and he’d never hurt her by cheating. And y/n loved Aaron and his commitment too, so they were willing to give up any hope with a man she had slowly come to admire more than just a boss, fellow agent, or friend. y/n fully holding herself back had been one of the reasons Hotch had liked her so much. He’d seen women fling themselves at him while he was fully with Haley. Before their relationship got rocky. Even when Haley was pregnant with Jack women had tried to woo him. But never y/n. Even when she knew that he and Haley were struggling she never made a move. She had distanced herself more from him. Had supported him and let things play out to their natural conclusion.

As Aaron thought about the kinds of sacrifice y/n had made for him, he squeezed her hand and said, “My right ankle is hurting me pretty badly actually. It started in the middle of the run. I think it’s from when I had to dodge that bullet in the last case. I tweaked it a bit then, but it didn’t hurt much so I ignored it. But today on my run it really started acting up.” As soon as y/n heard this, she dropped to her knees next to the bed and gently pulled off his right sock. She didn’t care about how the sock or his feet smelled. If Aaron was in pain, y/n needed to make sure he was okay. By the look of his swollen and slightly bruised ankle, it didn’t look great. y/n gently caressed the spot on his foot and Aaron flinched instinctually even though y/n hadn’t hurt him. She looked up at his dark brown eyes and asked, “Sweetheart why did you keep running on this? It must have hurt you. You could have called me and I would have brought Jack and helped you?” y/n had never seen Aaron hurt or allow himself to be hurt like this. Sure, she’d seen him overwork himself, but this was different, this was physical more than mental.” Aaron bit the inside of his cheek before putting his arm under y/n’s arm and guiding her to sit beside him.

Once she was seated next to him and looking at him with the same concern, he heaved a small sigh before saying, “I felt like I had to I guess. Sometimes I get that way.” y/n tried to understand why he’d feel that way and said, “Why, you’re hurting yourself. I wouldn’t see you as weak if you needed a break. You’re the strongest man I know. You don’t have to prove that to anyone.” Hotch closed his eyes and leaned his head into the crook of her shoulder smelling the slightly floral scent of her perfume. He didn’t want to be seen as he replied, “It’s not about proving it to anyone else, it’s about proving it to me. My… my father always said I was weak. He tried to break me and he never did, but sometimes I can’t push those thoughts out of my head. I know it’s juvenile to explain it like that, it was so long ago, but it still happens sometimes.” y/n turned to him, wrapped him in a tight hug, and stayed there for a minute to let the words sit around them. To give them the time they deserved. y/n pulled away and looked at Aaron saying, “It’s not dumb and it makes sense. Your father treated you horribly, so it makes sense that that would stick with you. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. I want you to know that you are good enough. I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it.” Aaron nodded slightly and gave y/n a soft smile. He should have known that y/n would understand him. It wasn’t easy for him to have these conversations. To open up. He knew he was lucky to have y/n in his life who knew him so well and could tell that he needed some help sometimes in dealing with his thought process.

y/n stood up and said, “Now, we can talk more about this later, but I want you to stay right there, No moving around and no shower. Just hang tight.” Aaron smiled and said, “Yes ma’am.” y/n chuckled at his tone but got up and moved first to the hallway where they kept a basin to clean Jack’s shoes in when they got muddy at school. y/n then got a glass of water and added ice before turning the tap to hot. Once the temperature was warm, but not scalding, she filled the basin. y/n then grabbed some Epsom salt from under the sink and added a fourth of a cup to the warm water; she stirred it with her hand until the salt began to dissolve. When y/n was happy with the mix, she carried the basin with two hands into the bedroom and carefully set it down on the carpet without spilling any of the liquid inside. She moved Aaron’s injured foot into the water and as soon as his ankle was submerged, he sighed with how good it felt. The sound made a rush of warmth rush through y/n, but she ignored it. Instead, she moved back to the kitchen and grabbed the cup of water and then some pain meds from the bathroom. She handed both items to Hotch and he took them with a smile and said, “Thank you sweetheart. How do you always know what I need?” y/n smiled and moved behind him on the bed gently messaging his neck and shoulders. He leaned back into her touch with another little groan and y/n felt that same rush again. At this point, she wondered if he was messing with her. For now, she just kept relaxing his stiff muscles and said, “I think I learned from the best because you take such good care of me. I think today I get to return the favor.”

Aaron and y/n didn’t speak much more about what he had said, but they both knew it was going to be a conversation they would have again soon. Instead, y/n just made him relax and stay off his feet for the rest of the day. She took care of Jack and dropped him off at Haley’s while Aaron slept. Even though y/n and Hotch had been dating for a good while, and they were very committed, two things hadn’t yet changed in their relationship. The first was that y/n and Aaron still hadn’t moved in together yet. They both found comfort in having their own space for themselves. It was good that after a case they had a place to relax and unwind alone if they needed it. There was a comfort for them in space, though y/n mostly spent her time at Aaron’s

apartment. The second constant, which was harder to maintain, was that the team didn’t know they were seeing each other. There had been multiple times that members of the team had almost caught them, but shockingly it hadn’t happened yet. Aaron assumed that Dave knew and Hotch had spoken to y/n about it, and she said it was fine. If Rossi brought it up, then Aaron could tell him. There wasn’t a reason to directly lie to the team, they just hadn’t explicitly made it a point to tell them either. At the start, they had kept it a secret to protect themselves. It might not have been strictly against the rules of the FBI employee handbook, but at the same time, it was easier to just keep it to themselves. By the time that y/n and Aaron had become fully committed, they had just gotten used to having it be between themselves. It felt like something they could have outside of work, even though work did come into it often. Keeping it a secret worked for both of their personalities. For Aaron who was a rule follower, it just made sense, and for y/n, who was a bit shy about her personal life, it allowed her to not have to have ten thousand conversations that could be intimate with the team. However, that would all change a month or so later.

It was early spring and the weather had changed to the warmer side instead of the cold Virginia often saw into late February or March. When Aaron woke at his normal 5:00 a.m. He felt a bit colder than normal as he got out from under the duvet. He assumed that it was because it was one of the rare nights when y/n was over at her apartment and not in bed with him. He also felt a bit foggy as he got up, brushed his teeth, and shaved. He didn’t think much of this either as he made his coffee and then headed to the office like he usually did when a case didn’t take the team away from Quantico. Aaron and y/n usually ended up getting to the office an hour early so they could have some time to themselves in the morning. They used to spend that time in the evenings after five, but as they continued to attempt it early in their relationship, it turned out that the team was much more likely to stay late in the office to finish up work than come in early. The only people who sometimes saw Aaron and y/n come in together or even enter Aaron’s office together were the janitors and now and then, Dave. They didn’t do anything inappropriate in the office, just work or talk on his couch. Hotch didn’t allow for hardly any outward signs of their relationship at work. However, he was looking forward to seeing y/n. It always seemed to set them up for a good day.

When Aaron arrived at the office, he felt that same chill run through him and his head started to ache a bit. He felt hot under the collar and as he got up the stairs and to his office, he just now considered that he might be sick. He hadn’t been sick yet that year but it happened to him at least once annually. He hadn’t expected it to be in March. And because he hadn’t expected it, he chose to believe it must be something else like his allergies kicking in. He’d arrived early even for his standards, and he sat down and pulled out his briefcase and laptop. After he did this, he realized that he wasn’t feeling that good and he moved to his couch to just close his eyes for a minute to try and collect himself for the day ahead. Aaron was startled awake at the sound of tapping on his door. He sat up and the room spun in front of his eyes. The lamp by his desk particularly blurred his vision as he stumbled to the door. He felt hot all over and as he stood, a few beads of sweat moved down his back making him shiver. He hadn’t realized that he’d fallen asleep and was surprised to see y/n outside his door. He felt disoriented and said, “y/n? What are you doing here?”

y/n looked at him concerned and said, “I’m here to hang out before work like we always do. Sorry I’m late, something came up at the apartment and I had to deal with it. Are you okay sweetheart?” y/n observed Aaron with a careful eye. He looked flushed and his eyes seemed slightly glazed over. He was also perspiring even though he must have had his office thermostat down to its lowest setting. Hotch nodded and said, “Yeah just a little tired I guess.” He stepped farther back and couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about the fact that y/n was coming early. y/n slipped past him into the dim office. She was only a few inches away from his body when she noticed just how warm he felt, even from a distance. Once Aaron had closed the door with a soft click, y/n turned to face Hotch and placed a hand on his forehead. She could feel him burning up and was sure he was running a fever. She led him back to his couch and he sat down with a little grunt as y/n took his hand and said, “Aaron, you’re so warm. You can’t be feeling good right now.” Hotch tipped his head back and half closed his eyes and in his normal, stubborn fashion replied, “I’ll be fine y/n. It’s just allergies or something. If I drink some cool water and just sit for a minute I can make it through the day.” y/n frowned at him and his antics before saying, “Aaron, you run warm, but you don’t run that warm. Also, your shirt is sticking to your chest because you’re sweating from the heat, so unless you’re planning on staying cooped up in your office all day, everyone else is going to know how you feel too.”

Hotch groaned as he realized that his body was giving away with how bad he was currently feeling. His headache was back and he was longing for y/n to put her cool hand on his head again. y/n could see the look of defeat on his face. Ever since they’d had the conversation about his ankle and subsequent discussion about Aaron’s need for care just like everyone else, he’d started asking her for more help when he needed it. Today was another reminder that he could still feel the need to perform, even when he was sick, but that it was okay that he treated himself well too. That he wasn’t letting anyone down by needing some rest. y/n moved over to his desk and started neatly packing his things back into his briefcase and bag. By the time y/n was working on gathering his belongings, he was back on the cool couch and his heavy eyes were closed again. y/n pulled his suit jacket and tie up from the floor, it was the last thing she needed of his. y/n was grateful that she had brought all of her things up to his office. That meant that they could go straight to the car. When y/n had all of their things by the door, she moved back to the couch, gently touched Aaron’s shoulder, and said, “Aaron, can you get up? I’m gonna drive you home.” Hotch grumbled something that sounded like, “Just five more minutes,” and y/n huffed at how this sickness was making him feel. With a firm voice, y/n said, “Not five more minutes. If we play that game we’ll be here all day and then you’ll try and do work again or something. Now stand up for me.”

Hotch gave a slight groan but slid his feet to the floor and pushed his body off of the couch. y/n could see a sweat stain where his back had been and hustled him out the door before he could see it and made a fuss about germs or something else to keep him in the office. y/n was sure she looked funny with her bag and purse, plus Hotch’s suitcase along with her boss leaning into her slightly as she wrapped an arm around his back to take him down the short flight of stairs and toward the elevator. Again y/n was grateful that Aaron was slightly out of it as Rossi exited the elevator bank on his and Aaron’s floor. The older man looked over at y/n and mouthed, “What’s wrong with him?” y/n mouthed back, “He’s sick and throwing a fit. He wants to stay.” Dave nodded, rolled his eyes, and pulled out his phone, indicating that she should check it when she was free. y/n nodded and kept moving Aaron toward the exit.

The pair just missed the entrance of Emily, Derek, and Spencer which was a stroke of luck. y/n helped Hotch into the passenger seat of her car and dropped all of their things in the back then y/n slid into the driver's side and started the engine. Aaron had perked up once he was outside and he looked over to y/n and said, “Listen, sweetheart, I can drive myself. Really, I’ll be okay if I just get an hour or two of sleep.” y/n threw him a warm smile while looking up from her phone and said, “Aaron. Somehow I feel like if I’m not there watching you, you’re going to be working or trying to be productive. Now, to avoid that and you being sick for longer, which I know you hate, I’m going to take you home and watch after you. You’re running quite the temp and I want to take care of you, remember.” Aaron turned to y/n and smiled at her. He remembered in a hazy kind of way how much y/n cared for him in times when he could be stubborn and try and push himself. He’d ended up being much kinder to himself in the last month thanks to y/n’s care. That didn’t mean he didn’t still fall into his old habits, like today, but he had y/n to look out for his best interests, even if he didn’t always want to admit that in the moment. y/n heard her phone ping and she pulled it out of her exterior purse pocket. It was a message from Rossi that simply stated, “Take care of him. I’ll let an admin know that Aaron’s out with a cold - Dave.” y/n chuckled at how old school Rossi could be by signing his texts with his name like his contact wasn’t in her phone already. He was being helpful, however, by telling Patricia in admin about Hotch’s absence for the day. That ensured that she didn’t have to go into his computer and file a report for him explaining why he’d be out of the office today. From the way Hotch was lightly snoring in the seat next to her, y/n highly doubted he’d have the energy to request time off when he got home, and even if y/n had picked up on Aaron’s password for his state-sanctioned computer, it would be a high-level breach of protocol on her part to go anywhere near the device. y/n could only imagine the intel on the computer in Hotch’s briefcase behind her, and in some ways was happy not to have such a burden of knowledge on her shoulders.

The pair made it to Hotch’s apartment in good time despite the morning rush into town. y/n grabbed all of their things first and moved them inside Aaron’s first-floor apartment. If he was in his full faculties she knew he’d throw her a stern look and go back for their work things first and give some comment about the safety of sensitive information if she tried to get him inside first. He would be correct of course, but it was always funny that Aaron’s mannerisms had started to rub off on her with time. y/n wasn’t complaining. It made her a better and safer agent. She was surprised that the team hadn’t picked up on it yet though. After y/n dropped their things off inside the door, then turned to go back to Aaron. Hotch had woken from his light sleep when y/n gently closed her door. He had gotten out of the car and was walking down the sidewalk. His muscles were slightly achy as they always did when he got sick. He lifted his arms above his head and y/n flushed as his shirt revealed a small stripe of his tummy. The trail of hair that led from his belly button down to his nether regions was on clear display. It looked pressed down from his shirt and the sweat on his body and the sight had y/n sigh. She wished more than anything to just have it be the weekend and be laying next to Aaron with her hand under his sleeping shirt trailing her fingers through that strip of hair from his belly button and lower. Aaron noticed y/n freeze and he lowered his arms. He still wasn’t feeling good at all but couldn’t help but say as he stepped next to her, “Now looks who looks like they’re warm?” Hotch watched as the blush only worsened on y/n’s face and she said, “Ha ha. Now let’s get you inside and in bed, Sir.” That comment had Aaron’s eye widen and he sighed, putting his warm hand on y/n’s back leading them to the door.

Once inside, y/n took the lead and took Aaron’s hand in hers, a classic gesture that they had become accustomed to in either of their homes. At the beginning of the relationship, Aaron was so used to not touching in the office or on the plane that he would take his hand away out of instinct. But over time he got used to the feeling of their hands conjoined. After a long case or a hard or boring day in the office which was most of them. Aaron could hardly wait to feel the comfort and grounding presence of y/n’s hand in his. They would hold hands whenever possible at home, even if it was impractical. y/n took him into his room and Hotch sat on the cool bed. y/n moved her hand to his shirt and started to unbutton it for him as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of the loops of his pants. This was the kind of soft intimacy that Aaron loved with y/n. She stripped his shirt from his body which was sticking to his skin slightly. When this was done, Aaron stood and slipped out of his pants. Now that he was home and he was in his room, the bed called him and he pulled the covers aside and dipped down to the cool mattress letting out a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes just as y/n leaned down, picked up his clothes, and moved to the laundry hamper to put them there. She then moved into the bathroom and grabbed a few towels. Two she dampened with cool water and wrung out and the last she kept dry. y/n moved back to the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed. Aaron was shivering slightly and y/n assumed it was because of his sweat cooling him off. He usually kept it pretty cold in his apartment. y/n gently pulled the covers off of him and used the dry towel to wipe off his sweat. Hotch didn’t open his eyes as y/n did this. He was so comfortable around her. He used to feel like he needed to look a certain way and act a certain way even outside of the office like with holding hands, but now he could do or act anyway around her, and she could do the same. Aaron’s eyes fluttered open when y/n placed the cool towels on his forehead and chest. y/n smiled at his half-lidded gaze and brushed his hair back with her hands and he murmured, “Thanks sweetheart.” y/ns smiled and said, “Of course love, now just rest.”

Once Aaron fell back to sleep, y/n got up and went back into the main room. She pulled out her laptop and sent in a request for a day off citing personal reasons as the cause. This wasn’t wholly a lie as taking care of Hotch was a personal reason to stay home for the day. y/n didn’t think about texting the team as she noticed some dishes in the sink and as she passed Jack’s room it seemed like it could use some picking up. y/n worked on the dishes first and then moved to the toys over the floor and bed of Jack’s bedroom. y/n knew that doing these small tasks would take a load off of Aaron’s shoulders later. These chores took about an hour and as y/n was walking out of Jack’s room, she got a call from Emily. y/n answered her phone and said, “Hey Em. How’s everything at the office?” Emily replied, “Well quiet for starters. You and Aaron are both out today. Apparently Hotch has a cold or something? Did you catch it too?” y/n thought quickly and pretended to not know that Aaron was sick and said, “Aaron is sick? Has that ever happened before? I swear he’s always in the office.” y/n heard Emily chuckle on the other end of the line and said, “Tell me about it. But anyway, what’s you’re excuse?” y/n through of a lie and said, “House problems. That drip in my ceiling from the workman redoing the unit upstairs turned into a river. I’ve been on the phone with maintenance and insurance for the last two hours.” There was a brief pause and Prentiss said, “Damn. Listen y/n, you’ve gotta get out of that place.” y/n laughed. She was happy to hear Emily and didn’t notice as Aaron moved out of his room. He’d taken Asperin which y/n had left on the table for him if he felt like he needed them. He was still very tired as he moved behind y/n with an empty glass and asked loudly enough for Em to hear Hotch ask, “Who’s on the phone, sweetheart?”

There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line before Emily said, “y/n, are you with Aaron. Did… did he just call you…” y/n quickly said, “Hey, gotta go Em. I’ll talk to you later” before quickly hanging up the phone. y/n turned to look at Aaron and his face took on a sheepish look as he asked, “I take it that was a member of the team?” y/n silently nodded before bursting out into a laugh and saying, “Aaron, how have we kept this a secret for so long and you’re the one who goes and says something about it? On the phone nonetheless?” Hotch couldn’t help but chuckle too as he placed his head in the crook of y/n’s neck. He inhaled her scent and said, “Can you blame me? I’m sick after all.” y/n scoffed; she could still feel the heat radiating off of him, and if he wasn’t so warm to the touch, she might have thought that he was doing this all to get them alone and out of the office. But Aaron would never do that. He was a great partner but also a workhorse and a dedicated employee. Aaron simply did not miss work, which was why y/n had to pressure and make sure he got home and rested. He’d be itching to get back to the office by tomorrow but he’d be out for longer if he overdid it now. y/n would have to think about his response about the team finding about them. She’d also need to think about her reaction, though y/n was sure most of that would depend on how the team responded. For now, y/n turned to Hotch and asked, “What are you doing up out of bed? You’re supposed to be resting.” Aaron stood back and replied, “Just getting some ice and another glass of water.” y/n smiled at him and said, “Okay, I’ll grab it for you. Now, you go lie down. I’ll be right there with some cold water.” Hotch nodded and walked back to his room. y/n moved toward the kitchen with a smile on her face. She wasn’t happy that Aaron was sick, just that he was so willing to let her help him. He was used to the notion that he needed to take care of everything himself, so letting her help him in these small ways was a big deal to y/n.

While y/n and Aaron were talking after y/n had hung up on Emily abruptly, Emily was standing in the center of the bullpen near her desk with her mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide with shock. Prentiss wasn’t even sure how to process what she had just heard on the phone. Em didn’t stay that way for long as Morgan came back from grabbing a cup of coffee and noticed her stunned state. Derek moved forward and said jokingly, “Well this is a rare sight. What’s got you all tongue-tied?” Emily gained her composure and said, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you?” Now Morgan’s interest was piqued and he raised an eyebrow stating, “Alright, try me, girlfriend.” Emily rolled her eyes at his nickname and said, “Well you know how Hotch is out sick today?” Derek nodded and Em continued, “Well I was just on the phone with y/n who is also missing…” Derek’s eyes widened as his brain connected the dots and he froze also. All the strong agent could say was, “No way,” Em nodded and said, “Well unless I have Hotch’s voice very wrong he just said ‘who’s on the phone sweetheart,’ to y/n.” Emily watched as Morgan’s eyes danced around for a second before he shook his head. Derek finally said, “Are you sure? What did y/n say?” At this point, Prentiss was smiling with the idea that y/n was seeing Aaron, just for the scandal of it all. She responded, “Not much. She said something came up, and she’d call me later, and then she hung up. If that’s not her trying to hide something then I don’t know what is.” Morgan let out a whistle and said, “Do you think she’s at his place or is he at hers?” That had Emily roll her eyes and say, “Well I’m not going to speculate about that right now. What I am going to do is go tell JJ about this. She will freak out.” Morgan agreed and said, “Do you think Rossi knows.” Prentiss replied, “Well we might just be freaking out. It could be something else you know. I might be reading into this.” Derek leveled a glare at her and Emily laughed, “Alright, you’re right. Listen, we can ask them tomorrow. Now, let me get to JJ and Garcia.” Derek let Emily past him.

Once Prentiss was gone, he crossed his arms over his chest. He considered that Aaron was dating y/n and took the concept a bit more seriously than Emily. He wanted to make sure everything was okay with that. Not only for Hotch and y/n but for the team. He knew from his time as a beat cop that interdepartmental relationships could get messy if and when things ended. The team had worked well in taking y/n into the fold and he didn’t want to see that ruined for a romance that was technically against the rules. Apart from the team dynamic, Derek was scared for Aaron who had been under some heat from the director. But his concern was more for y/n who was new. If she got caught up in something she could easily be transferred to a small department in West Texas somewhere where prostitution, cattle, and oil are the only things there. Morgan closed his eyes and took a breath and tried to put things in perspective. When he opened his eyes Rossi was looking down at him with a knowing look. The older profiler had heard Emily and JJ’s excited conversation in the next room over. Morgan just rolled his eyes. There was nothing for him to do now, so he went back to his desk and got back to work.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully for the team and y/n and Aaron. At 3:30 y/n went and picked up Jack and they had dinner in the kitchen while Hotch stayed as far away from them as he could while still keeping up some conversation. Jack was excited about the school play of Peter Pan that was coming up and y/n encouraged him in all things. Aaron couldn’t help but smile as he watched y/n and his son talk animately about what the play would entail. y/n opted to spend the night at Aaron’s the evening just in case he needed anything or his fever got way worse. That would also ensure that she could drop Jack off at school before heading to the office. That evening after Jack was in bed y/n attempted to climb in with Aaron but he sat up and said, “y/n if I’m sick and you sleep with me, then I’m going to get you sick sweetheart, and I promise you don’t want to feel like this.” y/n gave him a small pouty face. Although he looked much better than this morning he was still flushed and warm and he did look tired. y/n didn’t want him to worry about her, so she kissed his forehead, got him another towel for him to place on his face, and moved to the couch in the living room. She pulled a pillow and blanket from the closest and settled in for the night. y/n quickly fell asleep not aware of what was coming tomorrow at the office. The fact that Emily had heard what she heard had slipped out of her head as she had spent the rest of the day taking care of Aaron and Jack along with filling out some forms at Hotch’s desk in his home office.

The next morning came with soft daylight drifting into the living room where y/n was lying. She was woken by Aaron who ran his hand down her face and gently shook her shoulder. y/n smiled at him and noticed he was in his slacks and another white shirt. She stretched out her arms and legs and asked, “What time is it?” Hotch placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned down kissing her before saying, “6:25.” y/n hummed in response. She could feel that he was no longer warm. She could also smell his shaving cream which meant he’d gotten up early and got ready so she’d have time to use the shower and bathroom. y/n sat up and could also smell coffee. y/n leaned into Aaron and kissed him a bit more fervently, winding her hands into his short hair. When they pulled away he was flushed again and she ran a hand down his strong jaw as she moved to his bathroom. As y/n took a cool shower to wake herself up for the day, she considered just how kind Aaron was to her. The kindness she showed him he showered back on her in equal measure, if not more. Not on the field or in the office of course. There was never any favoritism, but outside of work they were there for each other and it felt so nice to have someone to fall back on on the hard days and someone to celebrate the good ones with.

y/n realized that her plan to drop Jack off was infeasible as Hotch had left his car in the Quantico lot yesterday as she drove him home. That meant that they both dropped Jack off and went to work together. This was a fact that wasn’t missed by Spencer or JJ who arrived at the office at the same time as them. Aaron moved up to his office like normal to see all that he’d missed while he was gone yesterday. y/n had asked him if it was a good idea for him to go back to work if he was possibly still sick, but he really felt like what he had yesterday was a twenty-four-hour bug, so y/n didn’t try and stop him. He mostly likely had a say in the sick day policy and y/n knew that she’d come in feeling lousy before, so to not be a hypocrite, she didn’t say much, just that she’d be looking out for him in case he started looking bad again. While Aaron went up to his office, y/n moved to her desk and she could feel a strange atmosphere in the air. There was a kind of excitement that she hadn’t expected coming back to the bullpen. Emily and Spencer seemed to look at her differently as she waved at them and said, “Good morning! I missed y’all yesterday. Did I miss anything good?” Spencer chuckled and said, “Oh yeah, you did. I’m sure Em will tell you about it later.” y/n smiled, she loved drama, but she didn’t realize that she was at the center of this one. She moved to her desk and wrapped up the last file she had been working on at Aaron’s yesterday. When she was finished with that, she moved to the staff room to refresh her coffee. y/n heard Emily and JJ come in behind her laughing and y/n turned around and said, “Hey, JJ, Em. Spence said that I missed some drama yesterday. Who was it? Is it Janet and Brandon again?” y/n sounded so excited and the two other agents in the room looked at each other and burst out laughing. y/n tilted her head and said, “Wait. What’s so funny? What’s going on you two?” The slight exasperation in y/n’s voice had Emily laugh even more and then the brunette replied, “Well does, ‘who’s on the phone sweetheart’ sound familiar?”

Once the words were out of Prentiss’s mouth y/n flushed deeply. y/n stammered a bit and that had JJ laugh and say, “I knew it! How long have you and Hotch been together?” Emily leaned against the counter and said, “Please, y/n. Spill the beans.” y/n had to let out a nervous chuckle and couldn’t believe that she had forgotten this was coming. y/n looked at her hands for a second and then back at her friends softly saying, “Almost a year now. We started considering ourselves official last April.” y/n’s statement had her two friends fall silent. Emily looked at y/n with surprise. Prentiss had expected it to be a few months, maybe four or five, but nearly a year was not what she’d assumed. JJ echoed the surprise and said, “That long? Where you planning on telling us?” y/n looked at their disappointed faces that had shifted from mirth to confusion and potentially hurt so quickly. y/n gave a small sigh and said honestly, “I never meant to keep it secret for so long. I don’t want to hide things from you guys.” Emily responded, “Well this was going on for a pretty long while y/n,” y/n nodded and replied, “I know. I know it has. When we started dating it was pretty soon after Haley. Aaron and I were good with it. But we didn’t want drama or blowback from everyone else. Not the team but the other departments. So we decided to just keep it between us for a while. And then I guess we just kind of fell into that pattern. It was nice. It was nice to have something just for us. I love you both. I love the whole team, but we know each other so well and so intimately. This gave us a place to just be us. But you and the whole team have supported me and Aaron so well. Always. And if you’re willing to support us in this too we’d be so happy. I can’t believe it took me so long to say something. I have so much to tell you both about us.”

Once y/n used Hotch’s first name in that tone, with such care and softness, JJ and Emily softened immediately. They hadn’t seen her look or sound that way before. As y/n spoke her words resonated and Emily stepped forward and asked, “Does he make you happy? That’s what’s most important to me. Because I’m sure you make him happy. He’s a lucky guy that he could get you. But are you happy with him?” y/n’s face broke out into a smile and replied, “I’m happier with Aaron than I’ve ever been before. You have no idea how good he makes me feel.” Hearing this, Prentiss and JJ smiled and moved forward to give y/n a hug. JJ said, “Well then I’m happy for you. But you better be ready for a lot of questions from us and Penelope over a few bottles of wine, y/n.” y/n smiled and replied, “You got it!”

While the ladies were chatting, Aaron got to his office and sat down. He, unlike y/n, was aware that he would have to explain things to the team. Or more like a certain member of the team who had shot him a disappointed look once he’d gotten into the office. When Aaron had his laptop out and had answered two of the most pressing emails the knock on the door shifted his attention. Hotch didn’t even say, come in, Derek just entered and stood at the door for a second before he closed it behind himself. Hotch looked up at his agent who stepped forward and placed his hands on his hips. Hotch pressed his lips together in a firm line as he extended the greeting, “Morgan.” Derek nodded and said, “Hotch.” Derek spent a moment testing out what he wanted to say, but finally just came out with, “What are you doing Hotch? What were all those trainings and mandatory workshops on professionalism about if you’re going to get into a relationship with not only the newest agent in the department but the youngest agent in the BAU? Explain the logic of that to me because it feels pretty hypocritical.” Hotch did his best to hold back the sigh he wanted to let out. This type of reaction was the exact reason why Aaron had been hesitant to let the team know in the first place. He understood that he was going against all of the things he had said and tried to demonstrate.

However, Aaron truly hadn’t meant to fall in love with y/n like he had. He’d tried to stop the feels at every turn. Hell, when y/n had joined the team he hardly believed in the concept of love anymore with how it had ended with Haley. But slowly, over time, the way Aaron had left about y/n shifted. There was a love there unlike any he’d ever seen before. It wasn’t anything dramatic. Not a damsel in distress or that a lust had come over him. It was in the little things y/n did for him and the team. y/n not only looked out for people in small ways but understood that she needed to take care of herself too. She personified not trying to pour from a cup half empty. It was rare to see someone be so aware of what they needed and when they needed to step away. Aaron thought it was very attractive that y/n knew herself so well. At the end of the day when the team asked each other in the elevator what they were doing that night, y/n would always confidently say, “Oh you know, _y/f/r/a_. How about y’all?” When y/n quickly realized that Aaron didn’t even seem to have any coping strategies apart from staying late in the office, she slowly started inviting him to join her for things she liked that helped her unwind. She never pressured him into anything. She never analyzed his patterns or made comments, and slowly Hotch had started to agree and had relaxed a bit. That was when he first realized his feelings for y/n might be deeper than just a simple affection.

Of course, explaining this all to Morgan didn’t feel appropriate or practical. It was he and y/n’s relationship and he didn’t feel like he had to justify it, although he could see where Derek was coming from. The best Aaron could answer Morgan’s question with was, “I didn’t intend it to be like this. And you see us in the office. We don’t flirt or act any differently than normal. And if what y/n and I have together started to affect how we act on the field then I would end it immediately. You can’t judge us on that. And it’s my private affair, Morgan.” The word came out hotter than Hotch intended, but he stood by them. Derek let out a huff and said, “Well it’s not your private affair anymore. You’re setting up rules that you get to break and we don’t? Well, y/n gets to break them too I guess. You might be our superior, but not in this Hotch. If those rules exist then they apply to you as well. And have you thought about y/n? Her role in all of this? You’re her boss whether you’re in a relationship or not.” Aaron flushed, suddenly angry that Morgan wouldn’t think that y/n was in the forefront of his mind at every moment. In every choice, he made going forward. Hotch was about to stand when the door opened again.

While Aaron and Morgan were having their argument upstairs, back in the breakroom y/n had honestly asked what she’d missed, and JJ and Emily had filled her in. Much to y/n’s joy there had been gossip about Janet and Brandon and she listened with rapt attention. While they were laughing about the antics in the department, JJ’s phone pinged and she pulled it from her pocket. JJ’s face dropped immediately when she read the text and y/n and Emily shifted their demeanor as well. y/n asked, “What is it, JJ?” The liaison looked up from her phone and said, “New case. This one seems urgent. It’s directly from the DA. A senator's daughter is missing and he’s running for re-election this year. The DA thinks there might be some connection. I’d better run up and print these files. Em, could you get the rest of the team, and y/n can you tell Hotch?” The two agents nodded and the trio left the break room with determination in their stride. It was fun to talk and chat, but when work needed to get done, they all switched to a serious mood.

Derek didn’t even need to turn around when someone else stepped into the office. From y/n’s distinct tread, he knew it was her. The exasperation that Morgan had been feeling seemed to slip away as he noticed the way Aaron looked at y/n. y/n stayed quiet. She could sense the tension in the air, and that it might be surrounding her. The silence lingered and Derek realized how Aaron looked at y/n. The look on Hotch’s face was one he hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked, happy. Not in a childish “I have a new toy kind of way,” but in a deeply contented and loving way. Morgan dropped his arms and stepped aside, that look on Aaron was enough for him to move aside. y/n stepped forward. She gave Derek a small smile and then looked at Hotch seriously as she said, “We have a case. An important one it seems. JJ is printing the files and we need you in the briefing room.” Aaron nodded and replied, “Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.” y/n nodded and Derek followed her out of the office, but not before giving Hotch a small nod. Not that he was fully onboard, but he could understand better now how much y/n meant to Aaron. Perhaps not only that, but how y/n had helped change Hotch for the better like she had helped the whole team with that. As the pair moved out of the office and toward the briefing room, Derek looked at y/n and asked, “So, how have you been?” y/n tucked a strand of her _y/c/h_ behind her ear and said, “I’m okay. It’s been an interesting day and it’s not even 11:00 yet.” Morgan chuckled and said, “Well, I think it will be okay. You’re a good person, y/n.” y/n smiled and replied, “Thanks, Morgan. You’re a good friend to me.”

Upstairs, Aaron secured his computer and grabbed a legal pad and pen. He and Rossi moved down the hallway together. Dave, whose suspicion had very much been proven correct jokingly said, “So, do you get her home by midnight every night?” Hearing Dave’s joke, Hotch froze. He knew Rossi was just being silly. It was part of his charm. Hotch scoffed and replied, “Maybe, maybe not. What about it?” Rossi moved forward, placed a hand on Aaron’s shoulder with a pat, and replied, “Well just let me know if you need a chaperone for your next date.” Aaron could only roll his eyes and say, “You’re as bad as Morgan, just in the opposite way.” Dave removed his hand and said, “Don’t worry about Derek. He’ll come around. I think we’re all just happy for you. Even if we won’t say it yet. Now, let’s get in there.” When Aaron walked in the room he felt like he was in high school for a moment as all eyes turned to him. He stopped in the doorway and flushed for a second. Emily and Penelope threw him grins but when his eyes landed on y/n he came to himself. y/n was giving him that soft smile that said, “Everything’s going to be alright.” Hotch took a breath knowing that it would be. If not what had they been working toward over the past few months of building a life together? Hotch moved forward, cleared his throat, and said, “This doesn’t seem to be our normal case. So let’s over over the information we have so far together then we can look at the information more closely before having another debrief.

The beginning look over the case information and lead so far was full of ideas and notes and the team did what it did best. After a few minutes, everything settled into its routine like always, and only when Hotch looked over at y/n did he feel himself flush a small bit, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The case so far, was. It dealt with children and a prominent political figure, so the pressure was on the team to solve this quickly. That on top of the mixed reception for the team to his and y/n’s relationship had Aaron feeling a bit antsy. When it came to looking at the files for a few minutes, Aaron moved to the table. It wasn’t a coincidence that the only open chair was next to y/n. Hotch sat down and pulled his chair into the table. He opened his file. y/n, as always, could tell that he was on edge. She took his hand under the table and gave it a soft squeeze. She kept her hand in his, and after a moment, Aaron took both of their hands and set them on the table. Now that the cat was out of the bag it just felt more comfortable that way. y/n took a second to smile at his actions and give his palm another squeeze as her eyes moved back to her file. The cat was out of the bag and Aaron didn’t mind or fear it now that it had happened. The BAU was like a family. They supported each other through life and changes including relationships. And with y/n beside him, he knew that they could make it through anything together.

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

Tag list: (🩷) @tgskitten @geminitapestry @silk-spun

Want to be added to my tag list? Please check out this post (linked)

Want to send in a request? Please check out this post, CM Request Post (linked)

107 notes · View notes

possibilistfanfiction · 4 months

Note

More surgeon suffering pls! Maybe bea learning more about Ava’s injury?

[definitely sooo gentle & no present-day suffering lol but here u go]

‘you can ask.’

beatrice’s gentle, callused, careful fingers still along your back, their patterns you can’t quite decipher gone quiet. ‘i would never do that.’

her voice is so soft and so relaxed, it’s not at all a reprimand; you can’t say it aloud, not yet, but you love her. you roll over so that you can see the gentle planes of her face through the silvery-blue light from the moon and the night outside her big windows, the blinds not yet drawn. she looks at you openly, patiently, like there’s nothing she wants to take from you; everything she wants to give. you know — in your heart and through your friends and your family and your therapist telling you over and over again — that you have so much to offer: you’re beautiful and funny and very smart, and you love the world more than anyone you know. you also know that beatrice is sometimes less sure of herself than she seems: she clams up every time her parents call, unable to tell them to, unequivocally if it was up to you, fuck off; she loves to be lazy and sleep in and wants no one to know; she still is in the habit of downplaying accomplishments, anything from a surgery she mastered (impressive in that you know how hard it is) to a new route she climbed at the gym (you have no idea but lilith was jealous and you can imagine it’s hot); she’s a horrible cook.

‘i know,’ you say, and you do. you let a finger drift down the bridge of her nose, count her freckles, feel the chapped bow of her lips beneath your thumb. she has a scar, small, through her left brow, and you trace it. ‘what’s this from?’

she smiles, always so quick to understand, always so generous. it makes you feel like you could light up the entire world sometimes. ‘i was five; my brothers were trying to teach me how to rollerblade.’

you think about it: beatrice’s gap-toothed grin and the delightfully terrible bob haircut she had for so much of her early childhood, the photos making you laugh when, unprompted, lilith showed you a few weeks ago when you’d all had dinner at a good oyster place near bea’s house. ‘can you rollerblade now?’

‘no, it frightened me. i never learned.’

‘putting that on the short list of things that scare you. good to know.’

she holds up her right arm so you can see the small scar on her elbow, the skin darker than before. ‘at university, i was drunk and my crush dared me to climb a tree.’

you can’t help the laugh it pulls out of you. ‘oh my.’

she nods. ‘yes, quite. needless to say, amelia and i went our separate ways fairly soon after.’

‘well, her loss. i’d have paid to see you fall out of a tree.’

‘i didn’t fall,’ she says. ‘i scraped my elbow on the way up, but i did continue.’

‘of course you did.’

she shrugs. you trace the scars across her chest, ones you love.

‘camila told me you tried to go back to classes a week after your surgery. like, the day after you got your drains out.’

bea laughs. ‘yes, and promptly fell fast asleep about three minutes in.’

‘front row?’

‘well, the second.’

‘knew it.’

‘i can keep going, if you like. i have a good story about a scraped knee during field hockey at boarding school.’

‘homoerotic, i hope.’

she rolls her eyes, but based on her silence you know you’re right.

she lets you sit in it, easily, and her house is beautiful and warm and, you’re beginning to think — to hope — it might be full of your things one day, too. it’s easier to be brave here, but your words, the worst of them, still get stuck in your throat. ‘well, what do my scars tell you?’

she weighs it. ‘you know i’m more interested in cardio.’

‘you’re the smartest person i’ve ever met.’

‘well, you favor your left hand when you’re practicing sutures, and i know your left foot gets numb often. you have trouble with temperature regulation and walking long distances, but an easier time standing for the most part; your neck aches, i think all the time.’ she pauses. ‘your handwriting is abysmal, although i suspect that has nothing to do with your injuries.’

you’re about to start crying, but she makes things lighter, even now.

‘all i care about, ava,’ she says, soft and sure, a hand tangled in your hair and then gentle on your cheek, ‘is that you get the care you need, that you tell someone — me or anyone else who can help. and you can tell me whatever you like, if ever you feel ready.’

‘i can’t — i want to.’

she kisses your forehead. ‘like i said. it’ll always be up to you. i’m here.’

you take a deep breath. ‘my mom had a garden,’ you say. ‘she died, uh —‘ you get a little caught, stuck on the way her eyes looked when she wasn’t alive anymore, when you couldn’t move, when you were stuck for so long, screaming and so, so scared — ‘she grew all kinds of vegetables.’ your voice shakes but beatrice only nods. ‘and flowers. we were going to —‘ you sniffle and beatrice just wipes your tears — ‘i think she wanted to keep bees. i don’t even know if that was possible; we had a little yard. but everything grew.’

‘that sounds wonderful.’

‘it was, even though i hated eating my vegetables.’

beatrice laughs softly, admonishing in a way that’s harmless, fond. ‘you’ve grown so much since then.’

‘hey, i’ll have you know just today i ate, like, seven bites of a salad.’

‘very impressive.’

‘can i — not right now, because i think i’ll just cry too much, but — can i tell you more about her? i wish you could’ve met her.’ i wish i could remember her more; i can’t forget.

‘i would love that. and, if she was anything like you, i’m sure she would’ve lit up an entire room. it would’ve been an honor.’

‘bea, i really don’t want to cry again,’ you whine.

‘you should know,’ she tells you, a little firm, so there’s no argument. ‘she would be so proud of you. i know it; who wouldn’t be?’

‘that’s —‘ you bury your face in her neck, just for a moment, soft and warm and safe.

‘would you like to plant a garden?’

‘in my tiny ass apartment?’

‘no,’ she says, and you can’t see her but you can practically feel her rolling her eyes. ‘here. i have the whole back yard and, frankly, no real interest in a lawn.’

‘i —‘ you back up so you can look at her, and her eyes are clear. ‘really?’

‘of course. i’m actually quite interested in self-sustaining agriculture, and the pacific northwest has great growing conditions for so much wonderful flora and fauna.’

‘wow. okay, but — it’s your house.’

she pauses. ‘ava.’

‘i just — you’re sure?’

‘i would really enjoy it, if you’d like. also, my friend marco, from the climbing gym, runs the community garden in their neighborhood and has been pestering me to meet you.’

‘you talk about me?’

‘of course.’

‘well, if marco will do all the heavy lifting, and preferably both of you not have shirts on, i’m so in.’

‘it’s february.’

you shrug. ‘you’re tough.’

beatrice laughs, and you sink into it, delight in it. you could light up the whole world, ava, she told you after two glasses of wine and half an edible the other night, entirely serious, crammed onto the small couch in your small apartment, your life expanding far beyond, past any walls you knew.

‘next weekend, when we’re both off,’ she says, ‘we can go to the nursery nearby and get started.’

‘you’re —‘ the love of my life sits right on the tip of your tongue, but you kiss her instead. ‘thank you.’

‘thank you for telling me about your garden, and your mother.’

all you can do is nod, and then hold her after she turns over and falls asleep.

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #surgeons au #butch bea 🥺🫡#honestly i had no idea what was gonna come out of ava's mouth this entire fic #he was simply in charge! lmao

112 notes · View notes

carolmunson · 1 year

Text

wish i had a river (e.m. x reader)

based off this cover of joni mitchell's river.

part two: here a/n: thought about starting a little mini series of one shots based off christmas or wintertime songs -- no part twos, no expansions, just little one shots based off the world the song builds for me. music really influences my writing so i thought this would be fun while i'm stuck in a rut with my WIPs. would really recommend listening to the song before or while reading.

cw: angst, angst, angst. mentions of a bad childhood. established relationship. reader is a first grade teacher. story is set in the early/mid 90s. divider by: @newlips

He sits over the kitchen table, scribbling furiously with a pen that was starting to stutter out of ink. He alternates between scribbling, sniffling, and wiping his eyes. He hadn't meant to yell, hadn't meant to start a fight. Christmas was never an easy time for him, his dad always tried to call him from prison. Wayne would take the photo books out and go through all the photos he had left of Eddie's mom. All the pictures of a younger Eddie seeing Santa: wishing for a new guitar, for a leather jacket, for his mom to come back, for a new daddy. Wayne thought it was nostalgic, but it just made Eddie sad. It made him remember that Christmas wasn't what it was like on TV -- it wasn't what it was like for you.

Now with Wayne getting a little weaker, a little sicker from the chemicals at the plant, he'd been begging Eddie to go through the photo albums with him. To hang up all the pictures of his younger self with Santa. Wayne just couldn't do it this year -- too tired, too couped up in bed. He'd taken a long sick leave with half pay so Eddie had taken up a second job at the mall in the shoe section of Macy's because they made commission. He felt lucky that the 90s were leaning towards a look that called for combat boots -- he was selling them in buckets to moms who thought he was cute and needed a gift for their angry son or daughter.

He had to wear his hair back at Macy's. He fucking hated it.

So he'd do the mechanics in the morning, run home to shower and change, do Thursday through Friday nights in shoes, pulling double shifts on the weekends. Eddie never had a day off and it was starting to strain on the two of you, only being able to see each other on some week nights.

He loved how understanding you'd been, doing your best to drop off dinner for him some nights at the mall. Being okay with doing nights in at your apartment on the otherside of town instead of dates. Letting him fall asleep on the couch while you watched your favorite claymation Christmas movies from the 60s. He'd started leaving and extra pair of coveralls in your closet incase he didn't wake up in time to get home before his shift at the shop.

You wake him up to a cup of coffee and some breakfast that you'd force him to eat because otherwise he wouldn't eat all day. He was getting thin, the stress was getting to him. On his feet all day, cars coming in all the time from the ice on the roads, new tires, the plows coming in every other night. The rush of people doing their holiday shopping, getting screamed at by someone's Reagan voting dad because they didn't have the new Air Force Ones in their son's size. Eddie would get in the van at night and just scream -- guttural, painful, angry.

The pen ran out of ink and he huffed, tossing it on the ground and wrenching away from the table to find a new one in Wayne's junk drawer. He opened the drawer so hard it came loose from the hinge of the wheels and the contents dumped onto the ground. He stood there for a moment, looking at the mess until his vision blurred with another round of fat tears.

"You okay in here, buddy?" Wayne asked, creeping into the kitchen from the back bedroom that Eddie had given back to him. He leaned onto the cane he'd started to use, holding onto the doorframe from support.

"Yeah, s'fine Uncle Wayne, you should just rest," he explains, trying to mask the cry about to fall out of his chest.

"S'it about that girl?" he asks gently.

Eddie nodded, getting to his knees and piling the junk back into the drawer half hazardly. His breath was shaky when he put the drawer back into place, not forgetting to grab a new pen, testing it on a piece of old mail before getting back to his seat at the table.

"You wanna talk about it, son?"

Wayne's soft drawl made Eddie break, shoulders shaking while he hid his face in his hands, "F-fuckin' blew it Wayne, I fuckin' blew it."

He'd gone to your apartment the for your week night 'date' of eating dinner and listening to records or watching TV. You'd been decorating here and there but this time everything was done, the apartment was glittering with holiday spirit. The tree was on the smaller side, but you'd been so proud if it -- all your grandmother's ornaments were shining against the multicolored lights. You'd answered the door with a big smile, sugar cookies on a plate in your hand, blank gingerbread men on the small coffee table in your living room. He saw the candy and frosting laid out and his heart sunk, he didn't have the energy for an activity.

"Hi honey," you smiled and leaned in for a kiss, but he only brushed his lips to your cheek. You knew he was tired and that was fine, he didn't owe you Christmas cheer you guessed.

"Hey," he mumbled, taking off his jacket and tossing it over the arm of the couch.

"Rough day?" you asked, putting the cookies down and grabbing his coat to hang it up.

"Just been fuckin' wild this past week," he shook his head, "Everyone's losing their fuckin' minds at the mall since the holiday's getting closer -- wish they never rebuilt that shithole."

He sat down in your recliner and let out a sigh that only 40 year olds that hate their wives make. You frowned.

"Sorry, baby," you ventured into the kitchen and came out with a cup of hot chocolate. He took it without saying thank you and sipped it bitterly while you took the sugar cookies back to the counter.

"I thought maybe we could decorate gingerbread men," you shrugged, quiet in your suggestion, "Just something fun to take your mind of things."

He looked down at the spread and then back up at you. When his eyes didn't light up, your insides caved in on themselves. So fucking stupid, he just worked 90 hours straight why would he want to decorate fucking cookies?

"S'real nice angel, but I'm not really feeling up to it," he assured, catching your change in demeanor.

"Oh, no, no, I get it," you nodded, quietly picking up the tupperwares full of candy and frosting and organizing them in the fridge. You'd bring them to your classroom the next day to decorate with your first graders and move the Gingerbread Man book up to this week instead of next week.

When you came back into the livingroom Eddie was walking around, observing your decor -- his face furrowed, bordering unhappy. Bored.

"Tree looks good," he said when he noticed you were back in the living room.

"Oh thanks," you smiled, "Steve brought me on Friday to go pick it up."

"Steve, huh?" Eddie asked with edge, not looking at you. You heard him let a soft huff out of his nose, seeing a mild shake of his head while he looked at the ornaments. He took one in his fingers, a crocheted wreath with a photo in the center -- you and your family by the fireplace in matching pajamas. Picture perfect. Your mom and dad call every Sunday after church. They think Eddie's a real hard worker, they admire him despite his taste in music and tattoos, they always pay for lunch when they take you both out when they come to town.

His eyes ventured lower and then he saw them: gifts. Gifts for him. Gifts from you and gifts from Santa. His head whipped around and his mouth was a thin line --

"We said--"

"I know what we said, honey, but you've been doing so much. I just wanted you to have a little something," you pleaded.

"I said no gifts this year and I meant no gifts this year," he gritted out.

"Baby, I know, but I just -- they aren't even fancy gifts! Just stuff you need, like, like -- there's socks in your stocking!" you offered any kind of explanation, "Some of them are even from my parents, they aren't all from me."

"Well that makes me look like a fuckin' asshole, doesn't it?" his voice was gravelly, he crossed his arms to look down at you while he stood at full height, "They're all gonna ask what I got you for Christmas."

"No they're not Ed, I already told them your si--"

"So you're telling your family my business now? Your poor fuckin' boyfriend who can't buy his girl shit because he's broke?" he argues, "Real fuckin' nice. Bet they can't wait to see me again."

"I can -- I can return them, I'm sorry," you sputtered, completely taken aback by his reaction, "I just...I don't know. I wanted you to have a nice Christmas."

"Maybe I didn't want one," he bites, exhaustion turning into unbridled frustration, "God, you think everyone likes this shit? All this holly jolly crap?"

You shake your head no, biting your lip to keep from crying but the tears well up anyway.

"You know you're just -- you're so caught up in the fuckin' magic of it all cause you don't know any different. Was your daddy ever callin' you from jail on Christmas morning? You ever wake up to nothing and wonder why Santa kept missing your uncle's fuckin' trailer?" he kept ranting, the tinsel on the tree shook with every stomp of his black boots. You shook your head no again.

"You have no fuckin' clue! Not everyone wants to be reminded of all the shit they never had," his nostril flared while he spoke, voice raising with every word that came out, "You think you're doing me a fuckin' favor?! Buying me shit, tryn'a get me to do these stupid arts and crafts? I'm not one of your students, Ms. First Grade -- stop treating me like one."

He took ragged breaths after his schpiel, trying to calm down but he was too riled up with his second wind. He looked at you with hard eyes even after you started to cry.

"I just wanted to do something nice," you shrugged, "Thought maybe this could be the year y'start-started liking Chri-christmas."

His eyes narrowed, "I don't need you to do shit for me. Christmas fucking sucks."

You blubbered, grabbing his coat out of the closet and putting his gifts in your arms, shoving them into his chest, "G-get out."

He held the jacket and gifts loosely against him, processing your request for a moment, his eyes softened.

"Get out, Ed!" you yelled, shoving him towards the door, "Just get the fuck out!"

He stumbled through when you opened the door, but held it open with his boot while you went to close it.

"You're gonna kick me out? Cause I don't wanna play fuckin' pretend with you?" he yelled, "Sorry that some of us have to live in the real world, angel. Wouldn't wanna impede on your fuckin' fairytale."

"Just go!" you yell back, tears staining your cheeks, "And don't fucking come back! You -- you fucking asshole."

He lets out a dark airy chuckle, "Fine, why don't go call up Harrington then? I'm sure he'll buy you somethin' real nice that you can show off to your parents."

With a final shove you were able to shut the door, leaving Eddie on the other side with his arm full of gifts. He clenched his jaw, half thinking to grab your spare key out from your welcome mat to barge right back in but he decided against it. He'd never really lost his temper like that with you before -- but God damn was he so tired. Tired of hearing about the holidays, of Wayne's cold trailer, of working two jobs, of the whole fuckin' season.

He took the van home, speeding over icy roads at first before he was able to finally calm down some. His eyes cast over to the gifts on the passengers seat and he huffed, pulling over into the empty Melvald's parking lot. He could see Joyce Byers restocking boxes of ornaments in the window, the light of the store giving him just enough to look at the wrapped packages next to him. He held one in his hand and took a deep breath, ripping the wrapping paper off slowly to reveal a shirt box.

He opened it slowly, a smile spreading across his face for the first time in weeks. It was a Black Sabbath tour t-shirt from their most recent string of concerts. He hadn't been able to make it to the one in Michigan even though it would've been face melting to see Black Sabbath and Motorhead the same night. Your brother had gone to the show in Pennsylvania and snagged him one as a surprise, but you wanted to save it for Christmas. With it was a framed set list in Ron Keel's writing, your brother's back stage passes had really come to good use. Keeping the gift a secret this long had been so hard for you.

He opened the next one after carefully putting the shirt and setlist in the back seat. Under the paper was a velvet box with a silver chain inside -- it was his chain, one that broke when he took you roller skating a couple months ago. He was just gonna trash it, it was tarnished and old anyway, but it had been Wayne's before he took the dog tags off and let Eddie replaced it with a guitar pick. You got it fixed, cleaned, and shined. It looked new. The original guitar pick was still attatched, with a few new ones nestled in the velvet at the center of the chain. Picks from shows you'd been to together, picks he'd thrown into the crowd when he performed. You 'd been collecting them and he didn't even know.

His lower lip trembled, eyes filling with tears as the guilt set in. You just wanted him to have a good Christmas.

He put the velvet box back in the pile of unopened gifts and pulled out of the parking lot. Before he knew it, he was fully crying, shoulders shaking in his leather jacket while he hopped out of the van and into the trailer. He picked up the phone, dialing your number, begging you to pick up so he could apologize and come back over.

"Hello?"

He was not expecting the voice of Steve Harrington to answer. His heart sunk so far down it might as well have fallen out. Eddie swallowed, trying to hold back another sob.

"Hey man, my girl around?" he asked, blinking back the tears threatening to stream down his face.

"Uh yeah, but her hands are kind of a mess," Steve laughs, Eddie hears you laugh in the background -- he aches at the sound, "We're just finishing up some cookie stuff for our classrooms tomorrow. Can she call you back in a bit?"

He could hear you shuffling in the background, the TV on blasting scenes from Rudolph -- The Island of Misfit Toys song played through the receiver while Steve waited for Eddie's response.

"Yeah, man, that's um -- that's fine. Have her call me," Eddie said softly, hanging up before Steve could reply. He knew you didn't like Steve like that; but something about the way your students would ask when you and Mr. Harrington were gonna 'get mawwied' put a pit in his stomach.

Eddie rifled through the junk drawer before he found what he wanted -- a deck of cards. It was worn and worse for wear, was probably missing some, but that way fine. It would do. If he couldn't buy you a present, he'd make you one instead. He'd seen Gareth do this a hundred times to win girls back and it worked every time.

Fifty-two things he loved about you. About you both together. His favorite memories. He'd doodle on some. You were his queen of hearts after all. So he started, frantic, feverish, writing novels on the first four, intricate drawings of where you met, your first date. A poem about your first kiss. It spilled out of him, just like his tears. He couldn't just lose you now, not on Christmas.

"I think that's a real nice gift," Wayne nods as Eddie finishes explaining, "Very heartfelt, buddy."

"Thanks, Wayne," Eddie's voice became groggy with talking and tears, "I just hope she likes it -- hope it's enough. Can't believe I -- that I made her cry like that -- s'not me."

"Better not be," Wayne barks a laugh, "Didn't raise ya to be a heartbreaker, kid."

Eddie smiles weakly, finishing the last card.

"Think it's too late to bring it over?" Eddie asks. Wayne shrugs and looks at the clock, just past 11 PM.

Wayne stands up from taking a seat, shaky while he does it, "Wouldn't say it's too, too late. 'Specially not if that boy's still there."

Before Eddie knows it, he's back on the road with the cards in an envelope. He'd finessed a bow out of some twine he found in Wayne's tool box, and decorated the outside of the envelope with red and green marker.

He shakily got to your door and could hear you both still manuevering around the kitchen. The clinks and clattered of bowls being cleaned so remeniscent of your after dinner cleanups. Sharing kisses between rinsing and drying.

He leaves the envelope on your welcome mat and knocks on the door, escaping into the stairwell as your apartment door opens.

"Who is it?" Eddie hears Steve ask.

"No one, it's oh -- " your little giggle makes him melt, "Looks like Santa dropped off something early."

"What is it?" Steve's voice sounds closer.

"It's um -- oh," your voice gets sullen.

"Eddie?" you call out. He wants to come out from hiding but he can't bring himself too. Not after how he acted.

"Gift from Ed?" Steve asks, "That's sweet of him."

"Yeah um, yeah, it is," you confirm softly. He waits to hear the door close with a click before walking back downstairs to his van. Maybe he can call out tomorrow and you can both decorate cookies until you get sick.

part two: here

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

627 notes · View notes

enhashoutout · 4 months

Text

Seiji, Arata, and Noboru

Sooo I'm rewatching High&Low the Worst as one does, and my brain started running again; so here is a comparison post of Seiji, Arata, and Noboru.

Seiji and Arata are to Fujio what Noboru is to Cobra and Yamato.

(Also I'm really sorry the Arata photo isn't centered. I tried fixing it but due to the picture dimensions I couldn't get his picture to center)

The One Who Can't Mess Up

When we meet Noboru for the first time, he is introduced as the friend who has a bright future. Even from their childhood, it is highlighted that Noboru is different from Cobra and Yamato. Noboru has dreams of becoming a lawyer, he does better in school, he doesn't get into fights.

Cobra and Yamato even say it themselves multiple times that Noboru isn't like them; that even though he came from a run-down area he had dreams and a better future than anyone else from there. In the Story of S.W.O.R.D series, Cobra even states that Noboru went to college, which was a completely different world that Cobra and Yamato could not understand. We also get a scene where Yamato tells Noboru that he is their star, encouraging him to keep going toward his dream of being a lawyer.

This early version of Noboru we see is exactly who Seiji is.

When we are first introduced to Fujio's childhood friends in the H&L The Worst movie (I haven't watched the Worst spin-off shows so I'm speaking solely based on the movie) Madoka informs the group that Seiji is the top of his class, making him the smartest person their age. To this, the friends celebrate and call him "The hope of the Hopeless Housing Estates".

Later when the group meets up again after the Oya High and Housen fight, Madoka points out that Seiji has a bruise on his lip which is unusual for him. Right away, Fujio tells Seiji that he can't be getting into fights. I'm sure Fujio knows what the costs are for Seiji, that's why he never encourages fighting with him like he does when he talks to Shinya and Masaya. We also see this when they meet up in the morning before school. Seiji asks Fujio if he is going to Hope Hill, and Fujio tells him that he'll be the one to bring Arata back and that Seiji doesn't need to worry about a thing and to stick to his books.

When Seiji gets into an altercation with his classmate who is speaking badly about the Oya students, he is confronted by one of the authoritative figures at school. This man points out to Seiji that all the teachers at school have high expectations of him. The teacher also tells him that with his grades he could get into any college of his choice in the country and that it would be best not to act in ways that would jeopardize his future.

We see that both Noboru and Seiji are constantly held up to higher expectations by the people around them simply because they were different than their peers growing up.

How Seiji and Noboru must've felt

I have not finished Story of S.W.O.R.D yet so Noboru's feelings are purely my own theory/speculation.

We get Seiji's feelings/perspective on the matter in the movie. When the man who I assume is one of the teachers or even is the principal is confronting Seiji about his actions, he also says that he heard that Seiji hangs out with boys who attend Oya High. He goes on to tell Seiji how he shouldn't be seen around them to which Seiji confronts him with the question about cucumbers.

Seiji points out that cucumbers do not naturally grow straight, we as humans put them into a mold that makes them grow straight and only allow those ones to be sold at markets. He relates this back to himself vs his brothers.

"My friends, my brothers, they aren't hoodlums or twisted. Among my friends, there's not a single loser, scumbag, or lowlife! They just grew up naturally bent! Sometimes, I envy them. I wish I were... I'm fine sir. I will become straighter than anyone else. I will be placed in the best position in the best market. For their sake."

Seiji knows that his capabilities are higher than the other boys and takes advantage of that and seizes every opportunity he can academically. He understands that he is being molded into an image of someone who is "successful" or "acceptable" in the eyes of society. However, sometimes he is envious of the fact his brothers do not have to do the same. But Seiji understands that for the sake of everyone, he has to be the one who strives to do better and take a different path in life than one where physical fighting is prominent. The lying undertone of this being that Seiji is working towards a better life so he can take care of everyone makes my twisted, bitter, little heart happy.

So how exactly does this relate back to Noboru? It's because I think that Noboru must've felt the same way.

From my understanding of the movies, we don't see much of how growing up with different behavior affected Noboru other than the fact he focused on his academics and had big future plans. He falls off course after his time in prison though. When Noboru and Cobra are talking outside of the gas station, Noboru tells Cobra how he had lost his way in life and could no longer see the future plans he had for himself. This plays a large part in how Noboru is similar to Arata, but let's back up a bit.

I assume that there were multiple times when Noboru had felt the same way Seiji did. In the show, we see that Cobra got his name because he had been Cobra twisting everyone since they were kids. This alludes to the fact that even at a young age, Cobra and Yamato fought with the other kids while Noboru didn't. We see that Noboru went to high school and took his college entrance exam which Yamato dropped him off for. We also see the scene where Noboru tells the two that his college acceptance is just the beginning, he has to also pass the bar exam. All while this is happening, Noboru is still friends with Cobra and Yamato. He hangs out with them, Naomi, and the other Mugen members at Itokan when he isn't studying. This leads me to believe that Noboru had to have felt the same way as Seiji multiple times throughout his life. He must have been struggling by himself with his academics and was envious of his brothers who didn't have to do the same, but understood that for the sake of everyone he had to be the one that "does better".

Little Parallel I noticed: Being friends with the people they are, these characters know how to fight even if they don't actively use these skills.

During the Mugen era, Sannoh's Pre-debut era if you will, Noboru doesn't get into fights with anyone. However, we do see him beat the shit out of the guys who harmed Miho. He doesn't actively fight until Sannoh era but I assume that being friends with Cobra, Yamato, Kohaku, and Tatsuya they taught him some stuff.

This also rings true for Seiji. Let's bring it back to the morning of the Kidra fight. After Seiji and Fujio meet up and Fujio tells Seiji not to worry, he walks in while his classmates are talking smack about Oya and Housen. When he's had enough of their yapping he swings at one of his classmates. Based off of everyone else's body language, it doesn't seem that the guy he punched would be able to fight back or that any of their other classmates would be able to step in and stop the fight. None of them seem like they know how to fight or even knew Seiji could throw a punch like that. I assume being friends with guys as strong as Fujio, Masaya, and Shinya teaches you a thing or two though.

The One Who Tried to Purge His Past

When H&L the Worst opens, we are introduced to Arata when Madoka tells Fujio that Arata has been hanging around some bad people and there are bad rumors revolving around him. We meet his character when he is caught on the construction site selling RedRum to some guys who work with Masaya and Shinya. Throughout the film we see that Arata is simply working with Kidra for money, he's not friends with any of these people or shares the same morals as them. This is the first point of comparison for Arata and Noboru.

Arata is working with Kidra because he needs money to take care of the house bills and his mother's hospital bills. Noboru only took up Nikaido's offer to join Iemura because he felt that it was the best way to continue from there when he felt like he had lost everything. Both took a path they thought would be best for them even if it was morally wrong or they were engaging with the wrong people because they needed something from these people.

When Arata is confronted by Fujio, he tells Fujio that he has his own way of doing things and that he wishes everyone would just leave him alone; to which Fujio tells him that he knows what he's doing is wrong, and that's why he showed up to Grandma Sada's resting place in the night by himself. Fujio tells Arata to throw the dirty money away. The night before when Madoka tells the group that Arata's mom has cancer and is worried for Arata because he has been working so hard to pay for everything, Fujio comes to understand why Arata is working for Kidra but also points out that what he is doing is wrong. Fujio tells the group that he doesn't know how to explain it, but he knows the way that Arata is going about the problem is wrong. Fujio tells Arata that his problems are also Fujio's problems because they grew up together and got in trouble together, so why shouldn't Arata's problems also be his? This is the equivalent of Cobra and Noboru's scene when Noboru is aiming the gun at Sannoh. Cobra tells Noboru he understands why he did what he did. Noboru's actions are to keep Sannoh safe from Kuryu, but that he went about it the wrong way just like how Arata is making money for his family but he went about it the wrong way.

Both are much smarter than the people around them, not in an academic sense

Noboru and Arata are both smart, much smarter than the people surrounding them even if it's not in an academic sense.

Noboru is seen as the brain in Sannoh. This is prevalent when we see the Amamiya brothers come back to him for help in breaking through the USB firewalls to reveal the Casino Project. This is also seen when Noboru was still working with Iemura. The other Iemura members are hot-headed and act recklessly whereas Noboru always treaded with caution and logic. It definitely wasn't one of his best moments but I have to give it to him because using Chiharu and Shion to push RedRum and cause chaos within S.W.O.R.D was pretty smart of him. I'll give credit where it is due lol.

After the Oya and Housen fight, we are brought back to Hope Hill where all the Kidra members and RedRum pushers are partying because they think that Housen and Oya can no longer get in their way. Not only are they talking about Oya and House, they are talking down on the S.W.O.R.D gangs as well. To which Arata speaks up, saying that the S.W.O.R.D gangs are not dumb, and that if Kidra wants to continue their business they need to move faster. Growing up in this area, Arata knows vaguely how the S.W.O.R.D gangs run and how everything works in the S.W.O.R.D area, whereas the Kidra guys do not considering they got beat by Murayama twice and think they can do whatever they want with no consequences. The other pushers clearly don't use their brains as much as Arata either. All the scenes we see of these characters together, it seems like those guys are just there to be there while Arata does the actual work of selling RedRum.

Grace Periods and Protecting Your Friends

Every time we see Arata, he's avoiding his friends. He avoids talking to Masaya and Shinya on the construction site, he avoids Seiji's messages and calls, he avoids Seiji when they both show up to Grandma Sada's resting place, and he tries to avoid Fujio in Hope Hill. Arata avoiding his friends and not talking to them is the equivalent of Noboru giving Sannoh so many grace periods to disband for their own safety.

After his run-in with the Oochi brothers on the construction site, Arata keeps quiet and doesn't tell the other pushers who Masaya and Shinya are. He avoids Seiji and Fujio until he can't. I feel that in a way this was to protect everyone. He knows what he is doing and the people he is involved with are dangerous. Ignoring them was partially so they wouldn't stop him but, part of it must have been to keep everyone else out of it because as he states while he fights with Fujio, this is his problem.

Both characters are trying to protect their friends while engaging with people who could harm the people they care about.

Purging one's past

Arata in order to work for Kidra is doing what Noboru tried to do and tries to purge his past (he is unsuccessful obviously).

Noboru multiple times throughout the series and Road to High&Low movie is telling his friends that he is different now. He tells them that people change and that he is no longer the same person he used to be. Nikaido gives him a gun, essentially telling him to either kill himself or kill his past (Sannoh). When he pulls the trigger, we find out that the gun is actually not loaded and the guy is just shooting blanks. The symbolism to this is that he can not purge his past even if he wanted to because your past is a part of you. Without your past, there is no present or future. You can't make the present or future better if you don't have your past to look back on.

Arata is doing the same when he tells Seiji he isn't the same as he used to be and when he tells Fujio that he's changed now. Fujio tells him that he can continue to punch Fujio, but his fists don't hurt one bit, not as much as his disappearance hurts their hearts. Arata and Fujio are both crying by the time Fujio is about to send another punch Arata's way, only for Masaya and Shinya to stop them. When they bring Arata back, Seiji and Madoka are there to greet him and welcome him home. Arata looks at the market and you can see the look in his eyes change. He never changed, he missed this place just as much as he missed his friends. He wasn't able to purge his past. His past is actually what helps him in the present and future, considering the group works together to give him money to help with his mother's treatments.

A Home to Come Back to

In High&Low the Movie, we see Kohaku's monologue about being a home to return to. Cobra and Yamato decide they want to go after the guys that got Noboru in jail and they tell Kohaku that it should've been them that got arrested because Noboru had a bright future and they didn't. To this, Kohaku asks them how either of those actions would help Noboru; Cobra and Yamato don't have an answer. Kohaku tells them that they can't change what happened, but that they can wait for Noboru because if Noboru has no home to return to, he'll never come back. At the end of Road to High&Low, this is exactly what we see. Sannoh was built so that Noboru would have a home to return to. Yamato even says that they can disband Sannoh Hoodlum Squad if Noboru doesn't need it anymore, that is fine, but he just wants his friend back. Once Noboru realizes that he doesn't want to purge his past, he asks Cobra and Yamato if he can come back, to which they gladly accept and welcome him back with open arms.

Fujio, Seiji, Madoka, Masaya, Shinya, and the market are Arata's home and place to come back to just like Sannoh was for Noboru. Had the group left Arata alone or chosen to exclude him because of the rumors that started to surround him, Arata probably would've never come back. But it's the fact that everyone was constantly trying to reach out throughout the course of the movie and Fujio, Masaya, and Shinya literally jumped into Hope Hill to fight and physically drag him back out that Arata comes home. He had a family to return to who would accept him even after his mistakes.

How Arata and Noboru must've felt

Again, this is pure theory and speculation because it isn't directly stated in any of the films I have watched.

Noboru must've felt alone not being able to tell anyone what he was really going through, it might even tie back to how he's the friend who couldn't mess up. Having such high expectations for himself, Noboru probably felt like a failure landing himself in jail even when he felt he wasn't in the wrong because those guys hurt Miho. On top of that, he never really tells Cobra and Yamato how he's feeling whenever they visit him in jail. When he worked for Iemura, he also had no one to confide in either. The only person who was really within his vicinity while he worked for Iemura was Nikaido, but Nikaido was the hardest on him and was violent with him because, to Nikaido, Noboru was like looking in a mirror. Nikaido aka Cain used to come from Nameless City and he truly wants to purge his past and forget ever being a part of Rude Boys and wants Noboru to do the same with Sannoh. Being so alone was probably affecting him in a lot of ways.

Arata was the same. None of the group knows that Arata is actually working with Kidra for his mother's hospital bills until Madoka tells them after she visits Arata's mom. He didn't confide in his friends for this matter, and never really talked about his feelings in general. Fujio reminds him that Grandma Sada was always worried about Arata because he never spoke up about his feelings, always bottling them up. Arata must've felt that he should take care of his own problems instead of troubling others which led him to be lonely.

Something random I noticed: The scene at Grandma Sada's grave when Seiji confronts Arata and Arata punches him, can be seen as symbolism of how Noboru felt inside during the show and Road to High&Low. Visualize Seiji and Arata as two parts of Noboru who are battling and struggling to co-exist. Seiji is his past, telling him that it's alright to come back to his home and his family while Arata, his present, is trying to tell his past that he isn't the same anymore.

It's definitely not that deep, it's just how I interpreted it.

You made it to the end! These are probably nothing new and very obvious points that everyone saw in the movies I just wanted to write about it so here we are lol. This post is not proof-read and is a little messy and all over the place but thank you for reading it anyways.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Feel free to add your thoughts in the comments and reblogs. Please don't take my work and repost it anywhere or take credit for it, if you would like to build off of my work please tag me for credit and tag me because I would love to see your thoughts :)

#high&low #high&low x reader #hanaoka fujio #oya high #high and low #oya kou #sannoh hoodlum squad #kawamura kazuma #the rampage from exile tribe #housen academy #high and low the worst #high and low cobra #high and low yamato #high and low noboru #generations from exile tribe

53 notes · View notes

userholland · 2 years

Text

out of time | t. holland

moving from london to new york, tom misses a lot about home. late nights laughing and sharing with his friends and family, but mostly you. a year later, you visit him for a few days and see what he's been up to. as you go around the city, he takes photos of you to remember the time you're spending together. you both pick up from where you left off yet at the same time, you have to figure out what's going to happen after vacation is over. it's as if your relationship is running out of time.

PAIRING : photographer!tom & bestfriend!fem!reader

GENRE : friends (with benefits) to lovers, childhood friends, pwp

WARNINGS : smut 18+ only!, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral (m + f receiving), exhibitionism (dressing room, car & bathroom), fingering, switch!tom + dom!reader, squirting, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, size kink, spanking, spitting & rough sex

WORD COUNT : 8.8k

A/N : if im being honest, felt so weird basing a fic with mostly smut/intimate moments but i hope its not too much (?) lmao but i sort of have a hard time writing these kind of fics because i dont want it all to be smut. i still had fun writing it obviously but i have so many other wips that i cant wait to share!!! thank u for the love and support always for my work! hope i get to write way more during this summer

𑁍 masterlist 𑁍

The sun was barely over the horizon as Tom stretched his arms over his head. He twisted his back, cracking the aches, and rubbed the back of his neck with his smooth palm. It was a peaceful time in the first hours of the day with no traffic passing by and the birds chirping in the trees below his view.

Just as he extended his arms above his head again, your two arms wrapped around his waist. Tom smiled to himself, looking down at your hands as they ran across his skin and grazing your nails against his torso. Your knees sank into the bed when you leaned in behind him, kissing his bare shoulder before playfully biting his lobe.

“Good morning.” You smiled, your arms still around him and running your hands over his toned chest.

“Mornin’.” He lazily chuckled.

Your lips brushed his ear, “Have anything planned today?” You asked him.

“Hmm, nothing specific in mind.” He answered, leaning his head back as your hands continued to slowly move over his body, “Do you?”

You giggled, “What about seeing how many times I can cum for you?” You grinned as your right behind slid under the band of his boxers. His cock was semi-hard, but you wrapped your hand around his base and glided your thumb over his tip.

Tom didn’t expect your gesture, but smirked anyways before pulling away to turn around to you. You wore his white t-shirt from the day before, seeing how perky your nipples were through the fabric from the low sunlight coming in.

He placed his hands on the small of your back before wrapping his mouth on your clothed left nipple. The fabric became wet as he pressed his tongue on the barrier, teasing you as his hand caressed your right breast. You arched your neck back with a smirk painted on your lips, letting out a faint moan as his hand slip under your thin shirt. You loved how tender his touch was– realizing how much you missed it compared to other guys you hooked up in London.

It had been a few hours since you landed in New York and you were relieved when meeting the arms of your best-friend, Tom. After receiving a job as a photographer for a local skateboarding brand, you could only contact him through the phone. Constant, but long facetime calls where it was your late afternoon and his early morning, talking about your days and what your plans were, even flirting about the few desperate photos either of you sent the nights prior.

Tom missed you, but mostly your relationship. Before he left, you two started from a playful friendship and turned into platonic sex every other day. You grew up together and shared the same school friends, but there was something you found in one another throughout all those years. Just like yourselves, your relationship matured as you were finishing your year 13 at each of your schools.

The first time was confusing, wondering if you would be speaking to one another as you buttoned your white, school uniform top. Tom pondered the same as he fixed his tie, trying to find his jacket with his school’s emblem on the chest.

Accidentally, you both grabbed the wrong ones off the floor and chuckled as you switched them. You would turn back to look at the mess of sheets on your bed, hoping that your mom wouldn’t come home early.

“So, your graduation party is next week right?” He asked, gulping.

“Yeah… are you gonna be there?” You asked.

He smiled, “Of course. I was just making sure. I wouldn’t miss it.”

At the time, you thought he was lying, but unlike your doubts– Tom always showed up. There was never any awkwardness or fears of rejection when your friendship took an intimate turn.

That whole summer was being able to explore what you two liked, what you were comfortable with, and even surprising yourself a few times with what you tried. All of it was exciting and nice until university came up. You’d be leaving this little relationship and only wonder what would happen.

Even though you were parted from time to time for four or five years, you always made it back to one another. Sometimes he’d visit you at university, sometimes you would come back home for holiday, and other times were during breaks and meeting each other at whatever destination you two chose.

You two would wonder if your friends knew since it became more and more obvious there was something between you, but you didn’t want them involved. It was easier to stay oblivious and make them wonder, continuing to stay in this little bubble where you neither of you had to explain what “this” was. Only because it just made so much sense.

Tom threw your shirt to the side, admiring your body as you laid back down on the bed. He straddled you, kissing between your breasts and up your neck before reconnecting his lips against yours. As you ran your fingers through his curls, the soft texture carding between them, you lightly bit his bottom lip. You started moving your weight to the left, signaling him to roll over which he did. Now on his back, you giggled because you liked to be the one in control.

As your hips ground, very slow and steady, Tom lowly groaned and suddenly smacked your ass hard. The tingle made you gasp and then giggle into his neck, feeling your hot breath against his skin. You quickly grazed your lips down his toned chest, leaving a trail of light yet wet kisses down his abdomen. Your hand ran over his cock through his tight boxers and felt how hard he was, aching and waiting for you to dip your hand back into his band.

“I bet you’re just wanting your cock in my mouth. Huh?” You teased.

Tom, red in his cheeks, chuckled leaning his head back, “Don’t tease me like this.”

“It’s fun to see you squirm.” You grinned as you hooked your fingers around his band, pulling his boxers down.

His dick sprung up once you lowered his underwear, seeing how red his tip and the pre-cum running down his slit. As you shifted your body down the bed, you were perfectly between his legs where he could lean his head up and watch you play with his cock.

Your thumb, once again, ran over his tip and used his cum as lubricate. Tom uttered a low groan, cursing under his breath as he admired the way you took your time. Painful as it was, your mouth gaping open as you watched your hand run up and down his cock made him sweat.

“God, I can’t wait to take this all in my mouth… if you're lucky, maybe you can fill me up.” You whispered.

He loved dirty talk. Easily withering into an absolute mess over how seductive words left your pretty mouth. Some mornings when he was alone, his hand would slip into his shorts and palm himself, thinking about the way you spoke to him when you were fucking. Leaving him letting out light moans and panting between your memorized commands and begging.

As your mouth wrapped around his tip, your left hand pumped what wasn’t in your mouth while the other ran up his lower abdomen. Tom didn’t know what to grab, instead putting his hands behind his head and trying not to intervene with the pleasure you were giving to him. Your drool slide down his shaft, and he bit his tongue as he listened to you gag and gurgle with his cock in your mouth.

His hips barely bucked, already needy to cum down your throat. You slowly removed your lips from his dick and continued to pump his shaft to catch your breath. There was the taste of his sweet cum on your tongue, making you giggle when you sat back up. As much as you could keep teasing him, you knew there was enough times in the day to do as you pleased so this would be quick.

Tom quickly lifted up, his head tilted up at you as you took off your panties. You tossed them to the side, unknowingly falling on top of your t-shirt on the floor. You straddled Tom, one around wrapped around his neck and the other guiding his cock to your slit. You rubbed his wet tip a few times before slowly letting him enter your pussy and he let out a deep grunt.

“Fuck… so fucking warm and tight. Fucking Christ.” He whimpered.

It had been months without each other's touch so, this felt like bliss. Exploring each others bodies like it was a new journey even though you’d kissed and fucked wherever you could think.

You couldn’t help but hiss, stilling yourself as you bottomed out on his cock. You felt your walls tense around his hard, clenching as your nails grazed his muscular back. He kissed your cheek then your lips, making sure you were comfortable before moving your hips.

You nodded, “I’m okay, fuck. I’m okay.” You huffed, spreading your legs further to shift your position, “I love your fucking cock inside me.”

As he moved your hips, guiding them as you lifted yourself up, your two moans combined and bounced off the walls of his apartment. Tom’s teeth lightly sunk into your neck and your hands met each side of his head. Your bodies moved in a fluid motion, hearing the slam of your skins as Tom pulled you down harder and faster.

Your eyes rolled back, a defeated moan leaving your throat as you leaned your head up to stare at the ceiling. The pleasure prickled along your body, like a strike of electricity when he pounded each time. Your pussy was warm around his cock, feeling like he could burst at any second. He smacked your ass again, grunting over your small moan from the sudden slap.

Neither of you wanted to cum, but it was tempting. Tom left a soft kiss against your lips, still inside you and his cock painfully throbbing. You ran your hands over his shoulders, gently grinding your hips again and took a deep breath to hold back your orgasm. Sharing a tender kiss, Tom lowered his head and couldn’t take the waiting. With both your eyes closed, grazing each others lips, you brushed your noses against one another’s as time frozen around you.

“Fucking cum inside me. Please… Fuck, I can’t take it any longer.” You gasped.

Tom’s hands caressed your breasts, wrapping his lips around your left hard nipple. His tongue flicked against it causing a soft whimper to leave your lips and you lifted up on his cock. Your cum dripped down his shaft, already leaving a mess between your cores and making your clit unbearably throb.

“Get on your back.” Tom commanded.

Your head was spinning, but you laid down as he wanted and your sweaty back stuck to the sheets. Spreading your legs, still inside of you, he pressed his hands into your sides and you wanted to put your legs back down to curl around him.

“Fucking keep them spread.” He muttered, already sinking his cock back into your cunt, “You fucking cum when I say to cum.”

You gripped the sheets by your sides, arching your back and your toes curled at the pleasure coiling inside your stomach. Tom dug his fingers into your hips, deeper and deeper, both of you aching and straining from letting go until your legs began to tremble.

“God, I’m cumming! I’m cumming, I’m gonna cum!” Your voice vibrated.

He nodded, “Fucking cum for me. Fuck!” Tom groaned as he rode out his high.

You jerked your hips a bit then stilling yourself while Tom slowly pulled out of your pussy. His cock was coated in your cum, watching his drip down your slit and onto the bed sheets. He slapped his tip a few times against your clit, teasing you before you leaned up and got on all fours to taste your cum along his dick. You smiled up at him, a twinkle in your eyes as you tasted your combined juices.

“Sweet, like always.” You giggled before kissing him again.

As you slipped off the bed, Tom gathered the bed sheets as you went to the bathroom to turn on the shower. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, watching you wait for the water to heat up and you pushed your hair out of your face.

The unlikely domestic that came after your constant hookups were always normal– well, it’s better compared to how awkward it used to feel when you weren’t even comfortable taking your shirts off in front of one another and keeping the lights off. You both figured that over time, it just felt okay to be this vulnerable and there was nothing embarrassing about it as if you were still young kids.

After Tom started the load of laundry, you were out of the shower with steam coming off your skin and the towel wrapped tightly around your body.

“I left it running for you.” You told him as you passed, going to his fridge to grab a water. You couldn’t help yourself looking over your shoulder, seeing he was still naked and the marks you left along his toned back.

“Oh, you’re too kind.” He chuckled, walking to the bathroom.

As he showered off, you started a pot of coffee and changed into a short, black sundress for the day. After Tom turned off the shower’s water then brushed his teeth as he walked around with his towel tight around his hips. You were laying on your stomach on his now-made bed with a map of New York spread out on the duvet.

“You know you can just look up places on your phone.” He muffled between brushing his teeth.

You hummed, “I want to have a clear path of what I want to actually see. Like, look. There’s an art museum next to a place where they make custom chewing gum.” You said in a cherry tone.

He chuckled, “You want your own personal chewing gum?”

“No… but, see how much more fun it is using an actual tour guide map.” You joked, using a pen to circle locations.

Tom walked to his dresser, shuffling through his clothes then going into his closet to find a top to wear for the hot morning. You hummed a random tune to yourself as your eyes searched around the map, glancing over at Tom’s backside once and a while. After slipping on fresh boxers and baggy jeans, he pulled a dark-navy t-shirt over his head. The graphic tee slowly covered the scratches and fresh scars left on his back by your sharp nails.

“I wanna go to the Empire State Building… unless it’s overrated and crowded like movies make it seem.” You trailed, rolling on your back.

The coffee pot was ready by the time Tom finished tying his shoes, so he headed back to the kitchen to pour two mugs of fresh brew.

“Actually, It’s not. I mean, there is a lot of people most of the time but, they get a little sick from how high it is. It’s a great place to take pictures too.” He grinned as he poured coffee into his favorite Star Wars mug with R2D2 on both sides.

“Ah, I can be like your model for the day.” You giggled, rolling on your back and sitting up on his bed. Tom sat next to you, carefully giving you the other Star Wars themed mug. You glanced at the side, “I remember when we got these.”

“Yeah, we took that awful bus ride to Reading.” He hissed, “Nevertheless, we found the coolest Star Wars collectable store.” He smiled as he reminisced on the memory.

You giggled, “Oh my God, and then that little pub we went to. Those Irish car bombs were so good.”

Although you thought back on the long night of drinking, Tom remembered how wild you were. It wasn’t like any other of the times you’d been together, but there was a fearlessness to your personality he’d never seen before and it made him fall a bit harder for you. The way you leaned your head out the cab window on the way to the motel for the night, smelling the fresh breeze run through the cab as you opened the window wider.

If Tom could back to any night, that one was special. He would get to fall for you all over again.

After the two of you finished getting dressed, you went downstairs and exited through the lobby of Tom’s apartment. As always, he had his camera around his neck and a black fanny pack across his chest that was filled with his essentials.

You sported a nice canvas tote on your side, bringing a blanket in case you two stopped at the park. The weather was perfect, the sidewalks weren’t too busy, and it was like the day was meant for you.

On the way to the Empire State Building, there was a small cafe that caught your eye. The neon sign blinked in bright blue and pink with treats displayed in the front window. You and Tom strolled inside, merging into the short line to the cash register and decided what you wanted to snack on. As you pointed to the menu, muttering the sweets that stuck out, you playfully nudged your head against Tom’s.

“I think I’m gonna get a chocolate croissant… and a strawberry iced donut.” You trailed, your words so close to his ear in the noisy cafe.

“Sounds good to me. As long as it tastes extra sweet.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, not adding to that comment. At least not in public.

After ordering, you waited a few minutes at the small bench by the door before Tom’s name was called out. He walked over, collected the five brown-bagged treats as well as his small cup of coffee. You were giddy, so antsy to eat because of the insanely sugary smell roaming in the room.

“Thank you.” You giggled, taking your chocolate croissant from him. Immediately, you took a bite into it and moaned a bit from the instant sweetness hitting your tongue. You took another bite even if it looked like you weren’t trying to pace yourself.

Before Tom could take a bite of his treat, he chuckled at you and the smidge of chocolate on your lip.

“You’re a real mess, you know that.” He jeered.

Expecting a witty comment, instead you casually wrapped your lips around his fingers, loving the taste the sweet chocolate. Tom watched in awe as his index finger stayed in your mouth, stroking your tongue between them before you pulled your lips away.

All he could think was, “Fucking tease.”

“So much sweeter than I thought.” You giggled before taking another bite of your croissant, “Definitely, that extra sweetness you were wanting.” You continued to poke fun at him.

♡ ♡ ♡

When arriving at the Empire State Building, you wanted to explore as much as you could. You were surprised at how there was a full history within the main first floor, with the dark granite lining the walls and floors and the high ceilings. Tourists, just like yourself, were browsing around, but you and Tom headed to the elevator to go a few floors up.

Once the elevator doors opened, there was a view of the city behind huge glass windows. With the sun up in the sky, the warm light shined on all the buildings that seemed so tall when you were on the sidewalks all those floors below you.

Unknowingly, Tom took photos of you from behind your view. You were completely mesmerized by the city, and weren’t sure how to take it in. It almost seemed like a place you could see yourself staying— maybe even with Tom. You could barely see people when you looked all the way down, but Tom continuously snapped photos before you turned around to his lens.

With a shy smile, you still beamed it at him and he chuckled. He looked through the lens at your beautiful face, the sun hitting perfectly behind you as if it was a paid background. You posed a few times, trying to be dramatic and you both shared giggles.

“How do you live here and not come to see this view all the time?” You asked him as the two of you stood in front of the glass windows.

He grinned, “I might more… it’s just more fun with you.”

What a dork.

You playfully pushed his shoulder, but he pulled at your wrist to bring you closer to him. Yes, there were moments you two appeared as a couple in the public, but it was never forced. It was easier in moments like this when it was just you two without your friends teasing you and asking questions. But, the question still came up as to how long would this be going on.

The two of you went back to the elevator, going to the top of the building where most people were taking pictures. Luckily, the wind was a low speed and the smell wasn’t completely awful.

Tom found the right lighting, adjusting the settings on his camera between capturing your moments. He kept smiling just as you were and seeing you cover your face when you couldn’t think of another post to do.

He never gave himself the credit for the art he could see, let alone you want to admit a picture of yourself is art, but he could already imagine these shots in black and white and hung up one of his own pieces. A piece he knew he was proud of.

“Am I looking okay?” You asked him, trying to see the photos.

“No, no, I don’t want you deleting them if you hate them.” He smiled as he pulled away the camera.

You pouted, “Fine, but I trust you.”

When you walked back over to the view of the city, Tom continued to smile at the photos he took and thought that he had never seen someone so naturally beautiful in a scene with so much other things going on. You were the focus out of a city of thousands of people.

After the Empire State visit, Tom took you to a few department stores to find some clothes. It was something on your list of things to-do, so you didn’t mind browsing around and able to ask Tom for his opinion on what you should buy for the summer weather.

Stumbling upon a thrift store, the selection was huge and gave you hope to find a few pieces. Once you grabbed a few items– a nice sweater, a cute dress, and a few skirts– the two of you made your way to the private dressing rooms toward the back of the store. There were only three rooms, and no where to sit outside of them so, you invited Tom inside (because it wasn’t like it was nothing he hadn’t seen).

You modeled for him, not minding the echoing of the camera clicking, his lens pointed at the mirror while you stared at your profile and how the clothes fit you.

Tom’s phone vibrated, making you take his camera and you pointed it at him for once during the day. He glanced at a text and you captured a photo of him looking perfectly down at his phone, loving the detail to his freckled nose bridge and small grin.

“Just got a text, my friend, Olson, invited me to a party tonight.” Tom trailed, “Want to go?” He asked, looking up at you with him sat down and you hovering over him with the camera still in your hands.

“Only if you make a funny face.”

Tom stuck his tongue out, his eyes a bit wide and you pressed the button.

“Perfect…” You giggled, admiring the photo and the light shade of brown in his eyes.

You sat next to him, running through the photos he had taken throughout the day and holding back your comments. It wasn’t that the pictures were bad, but you just cringed at your own image. Tom’s hand run up your leg, hiking the dress you were still trying on, but he slowly got on his knees in front of you.

He was now lowered, hiking the ends of the short dress toward you. You pointed the camera at the mirror where Tom’s back was blocking what was between your legs. Tom pushed his head further down and pressed and curled the tip of his tongue inside your slit.

Your fingers weaved through the top of his head as he continued, surprising him at how calm you were being so he tried to dig his tongue deeper. A giggle left your lips, your back arching against the wall and all your frustrations going into gripping his curls.

You hissed, biting your bottom lip to hold back your moans. There was some satisfaction into knowing how fearless he was to show you that you were each other's cravings.

♡ ♡ ♡

Standing in the full body mirror, you turned to the side to see the way this dress fit. It wasn’t the same dress from earlier, but you still bought that one to cherish the memory.

You didn’t want it to keep hiking up, but it was pretty cute when Tom kept staring at your legs while sat on his bed. You turned on your chunky heels, walking over to him and seeing his head tilt back the closer you got.

“How do I look?” You asked, placing your hands on his shoulders.

His hands ran up the back of your thighs, over your bum then rested on your lower back.

“Fucking amazing.” He chuckled. His hands moved down to squeeze your ass then run over your thighs again.

He leaned down, his head tilting to the side before leaving wet kisses along your inner thigh. You giggled at his neediness, “We don’t have time. We have to get a cab soon.” You pouted.

“I can be quick. You know that.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t get cocky now.”

Tom chuckled against your skin, leaving a small love bite but eventually pulled your dress back down. He didn’t want to give in just yet, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to bend you over right there like he had in the dressing room just to watch your face contort as his cock thrusted into your tight walls.

Your pussy ached from his teasing, wishing he could taste his own theory of being able to make you cum in seconds. Although you felt uncomfortable between your legs, barely able to stand, you knew he would cave in at some point of the night. It was always him and you loved it.

As you went downstairs, the two of you were arm in arm walking outside to catch a cab. Once one of many yellow cars stopped, Tom let you slide in first then shut the door once he was in too. Within the few seconds of the ride, his head kept running up and down your knee and sneaking up the end of your dress. You could have swatted his hand away, pleading that you didn’t want him to have his hands on you– that wasn’t the case in this moment.

Tom tested his limits. He moved his hand up more and you welcomed that by spreading your legs. With the barrier and sliding window between you two and the driver gave you more privacy, Tom seemed to be more adventurous. That damn smirk painted on his lips as his two fingers ran over your panties, feeling the wet spot where you cunt is. He circled them around your clit, watching your hand grip the door’s arm rest.

You blinked a few times, but his eventually pulled them to the side. You leaned back a bit, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror where the cab driver was keeping his eyes on the road. Trying to keep a straight face, Tom curled his two fingers inside you and moved against the spongy part deep inside your cunt. As he picked up the pace, you could hear your juices pumping in and out of your pussy as a tightness coiled in your lower belly.

“God…” You whispered, saying it under your breath.

Tom still looked forward, appearing like the two of you weren’t speaking, but he felt your climax coming from how your pussy clenched against his fingers. Your eyes squeezed together, jaw clenched tight as you held back every feeling to let go, but Tom quickly pulled his hand away.

You gave him side-eye, pouty from him taking his hand back, but you bit your lip at him placing the two same fingers inside his mouth. He sucked on them quickly, as if he was eating the last of a dessert, and smiled to himself when he tasted your sweetness.

Flustered and heated, you inhaled a shaky deep breath. You pulled the bottom of your dress back down, suddenly twitching at the overwhelming aching between your legs. You wish you could rub your clit right now, knowing you would only need to roll your fingers over it a few times. Nevertheless, you decided to put your frustration into getting back at Tom. Enough for him to regret.

♡ ♡ ♡

At the party, the two of you entered through the open door. The setting was a loft, low lighting and people wearing those cheap neon bracelets and necklaces. Tom immediately spotted some of his friends by the self-serving bar and he took your hand to guide you through the crowd.

“Hey mates, this is Y/N.” Tom introduced you, barely making out his own friends faces from how dark it was.

“Nice you meet you.” You said a bit loud so they could hear you.

“You’re one of Tom’s childhood friends, right? Tell us all the secrets.” One of his friends, Olson, teased. His dark brown curls were long, a bit grown out like Tom used to have.

“No secrets, he’s unapologetically himself. A bit serious.” You joked, feeling comfortable with his group.

Tom smiled at how you could just put yourself out there and get along with his friends here. He was weary about how you’d get along only because it was like his two worlds colliding, but he eventually wanted you to meet them— hoping they wouldn’t tell you anything about what he’s said about your “relationship”.

Just as any party went on, you and Tom were two drinks in and dancing to the loud music with everyone else. After straying from the fun and teasing conversations, you both found yourselves searching for a room to be more private in. Tom’s hands were on your waist as you tried to open the few doors until both of you saw someone walk out of the bathroom.

Quickly slipping in, you and Tom didn’t take it your time slowly. He pressed your back against the cool door, his hand fiddling to lock the door. You held his face as he propped you up on the granite counter.

His hands gently pushed apart your thighs, hiking up the end of your dress for him to see your lace panties. Your back comfortably rested against the mirror, your one hand running through his wild curls and harshly tug on them and the other pressed against the wall.

Tom left slow and wet kisses on your right inner thigh while one hand ran up and down your left thigh. Your clit was starting to tighten, clenching around nothing just from Tom’s teasing and you wanted to beg.

As he pressed his lips against your clothed slit, he felt how wet you still were. Tom slid his tongue up to get a taste of your cum which made him smirk between your legs. He couldn’t help but pull them to the side, so harshly that he ripped the seam. Tom spit on your throbbing pussy lips, leaning in and sucking your swollen clit then flicking his tongue between your slit.

You panted, pursing your lips as you watch him, “God, yes! Eat my fucking pussy like that, Tommy.”

Your words encouraged him, the pace of his tongue going faster and making your eyes roll back. He took his time with your clit and sucked with his lips fully around it. He loved watching your face contort as he flicked your bud with his tongue and your hips jolted, trying to buck against his tongue.

Just when you thought you could cum right there, he quickly pushed his two fingers inside your tight cunt. You moaned, caressing your own breasts as he curled them, but his pace was much faster than in the cab. He pumped them incredibly fast, feeling your pussy clenching around them and listening to your whiny moans to keep going.

His fingers went knuckle deep in your slit, trying to maintain his fast pace before Tom pulled them out and quickly rubbed your clit with the same fingers.

You groaned, “I’m coming! I’m coming!” You surrendered.

A burst of your wetness squirted from your pussy, running down the counter and your inner thighs. Your legs violently shook as Tom kept rubbing before pushing his face back in to taste your pussy and clit once more. He had to keep your legs apart with his hands because of how much they were shaking, still orgasming from how hard you came and his tongue back to work.

You caught your breath, sweat against your forehead and your throat sore from your heavy breathing. Tom came back up to your head, pressing your tongues together and tasting your cum. It was a slow kiss compared to the roughness you both got into, but you knew it was just a short break.

“You want to cum again? Huh, fucking slut gonna fucking cum for me.” He trailed against his lips.

You nodded, “Yes, make me cum again, Tommy.”

He was motivated just from your little nickname.

Tom took a step back, unbuckling his belt and quickly pulling down his jeans and boxers. His dick sprung right up, hitting his lower abdomen and you bit your lip at how full and thick his cock was. He pumped his hand a few times, coating his length in pre-cum before gliding his tip against your incredibly wet slit.

Your toes curled just at his teasing, painfully glaring as he continued to stroke his tip against your clit. You weren’t going to beg just yet, but you were at least on the verge of doing it if this lasted any longer.

Tom smiled at the neediness written across your face, your eyebrows furrowed and lip between your teeth. He stepped back toward you and spread your legs without warning, gliding his cock once more against your pussy.

You leaned your head back as his cock thrusted inside your tired, worn-out pussy. His length was so big, stretching your slit out as he stilled his hips. Tom licked his lips, watching him bottom out inside you and letting out a low groan once his lower body pressed against yours. That’s how close you were in that moment, oddly feeling so intimate in that moment.

He wasn’t slow this time. Tom slammed his cock back inside you, letting you feel every inch of him enter your tight walls. You could only grip on your chest, running your thumbs over your nipples which doubled the pleasure that was coursing throughout your body.

“Ah, your cock is so… so big. Can barely fit in my pussy.” You whimpered, as if you could take the upper hand at this point. You were a complete mess.

“I’ll make you cum this time. Only if you scream my name when you do. Huh?” He lowly chuckled against your ear, squeezing his hands on your hips to bring them closer to him.

Tom watched his cock pull out of your pussy, groaning at his whole length coated in your thick cum. With just the tip inside your slit, your left hand reached down to stroke him while your right hand still pulled at your nipple. You felt how slick his cock was, not surprised how bad you wanted him.

“Please, I need your cock, baby.” You trailed. Your eyes gazed into his, looking bigger and more desperate, making Tom move his hands down under your thighs and lifting your legs higher.

Your back slouched more, basically staring up at him as he put your legs over each of his shoulders. Your pussy lips were plump and hot, a string of your own cum running down to your asshole, but Tom collected it on the tip of his cock then teased your slit once more. Stroking his dick back and forth, your ankles by his ears, just before he slid back into you at a much slower pace.

You took every inch in, even twitching once he bottomed out. His thrusts were very rough, pushing his cock as much as he could and hitting your g-spot each time. Tom picked up a rhythm once he felt his dick twitching inside you, anticipating to cum deep inside you. Your skins slapped together each thrust, quicker and quicker, more deep than you think he could possibly go.

“Tommy, Tommy, Ah! I’m gonna cum.” You moaned over the muffled music, “Fuck, I wanna cum so bad, Tommy.”

Beads of sweat trailed down Tom’s temples, his eyes going back and forth from watching your face contort from your pleasure and your pussy. He grunted toward his high, but he suddenly stopped in his thrusts.

It confused you, but he quickly pushed your legs down before he pulled you closer to him by your lower back. Your ass shifted on the sink counter, basically on the edge, before Tom shifted his cock back into your tight slit. The closeness made a tingle go up your spine, with your chest against his and sharing a kiss between each time he bucked his hips.

You moaned against his lips, barely able to move them when he picked up his fast pace. You gasped a few times, your head dropping as your pussy clenched around his cock then quickly throwing your head back.

Neither of you could produce words to explain the euphoria coursing through your bodies, only pants between you two as you stood still and held each other. You left a soft kiss on his cheek before pulling away, Tom immediately pressing his forehead against yours to savor the moment. Your hand ran down his shoulder, running down his sweaty body and lightly scratching your nails down his abdomen.

Oddly in that moment, you could say you loved him. Not the “I love you” that would casually come out at when he did something to make you laugh, like an “I love you” that was more than words. You gulped from that feeling so you refrained from them leaving your lips, instead pulling away from him.

The two of you hadn’t had an intense moment like that in years, almost wondering if this was as good as it gets. Both of you didn’t want to doubt that either, but it was a lot that you didn’t speak for the few seconds it took you to get dressed again.

As Tom pulled his shirt back down, he glared at you examining your neck in the mirror. Darker shaded marks already formed compared to your skin tone, gulping and hoping no one would say anything or think differently of you when you walk back out.

“Are you okay?...I didn’t hurt you or anything, right?” He asked, as if it was your first time again.

You smiled, glancing at him in the reflection before turning around, “No, no. Just rougher than usual, but I would have said if I didn’t like it.”

A shy chuckle left his smile, but he glanced back up at you, “You know I love you, right?”

What did he mean by that, you thought.

“I-I love you too…” You trailed, not even sure if you meant it the way he meant it.

You quickly walked away from him, and Tom’s confidence fell short in that instance. After opening the bathroom door, the next couple wanting their own privacy walked past Tom to go in. Tom, trailing right behind you,saw the party had only gotten bigger and his friends were still by the corner.

As you went toward the bar, Tom went back over to his friends and he wanted to flush away the embarrassment he was feeling in his face. He had only wondered if he did something wrong.

“Nice hair.” Olson commented.

Tom smiled, trying to run his hands over and through it.

“Mate, we were just talking about Paris and we don’t know if you’re in or not.” The other friend, Mark, brought up, his drink almost empty so he sipped the little bit left.

“Uh, not sure.”

“You need to make up your mind. Offer from the director guy still stands until next week. It’s a good paying gig for a few months, then you come back here and buy a less crapper place to bring your friend to.” Olson teased.

“I don’t really know if I can afford France right now. I have a lot going on.”

“Well, we think you should try. At least think about it and don’t shut it down. Besides, the girls already follow you on Instagram. They’ll be all over you if that’s the issue.” Mark joked.

“I don’t need a girl either…” Tom commented, then twisting his lips, “I think I’ll go. Paris wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” Tom, obviously flustered, trailed.

Unknowing to him, you were already behind him once the conversation got serious. You heard about France, you heart about models, you just heard the whole thing and Tom hadn’t even mentioned it. All you could do, without embarrassing him or yourself in front of his friends, is fake a smile.

So, this was it, you guessed.

♡ ♡ ♡

The walk home was silent. A bit too silent if you asked Tom. Maybe you were tired, or you were just getting homesick. One thing neither of you did, and what you desired the most, is to read each other’s minds, because in moments like this, it would be nothing but help.

Just as Tom was going to ask, after contemplating for a few minutes, about what was wrong, you finally just said—

“I didn’t know about Paris.”

Tom quickly turned his head to you, worried when you didn’t look back at him.

“Y/N, it’s undecided–”

“No, I heard you say that you were thinking about going…” You sighed, “You know I’m not mad about you going, but you… didn’t tell me?” You rhetorically spurted.

“I was going to, but we were having a nice time. I wanted you to have a good time. How was I supposed to just tell you I might up and move again when I want to be in one place.” Tom quickly retorted.

Both of you stopped walking, and you nodded, “You just tell me, Tom? I mean, I didn’t think that there was ever anything that we didn’ tell each other these days.”

Tom nodded, “It just didn’t cross my mind right now because we’re having fun. I’ve been looking forward to you coming for weeks now. I promise, we’ll talk about it later.” He pleaded, not wanting you to get the wrong idea.

“Later or never? I’m confused on what you want… what even are we? We’re acting like teenagers again and… How long can we keep up something like this. I tell you that ‘I love you’ and lately it’s getting so fucking hard to know what kind of love I feel for you. Like.. is it worth it to love you if what’s going on between us is temporary.”

Tears were lining Tom’s waterlines, “I think that too… I felt like I messed up things tonight and almost everyday.” He vented, “I love you too, and I don’t know what we are either, but I know I don’t want to let it go. Not right now or ever.”

“Then what do you want?” You desperately asked, the stress gnawing away on your insides.

Tom fell silent. It was like all the words in the world to describe his feelings had been erased from his mind. He was frustrated too, almost in disbelief that you didn’t think he was into you, but his silence was too much for you.

You gulped, “Let’s just go to bed.” You said before opening the lobby door.

Tom stood there for a few seconds, contemplating about what he had done (or even what hadn’t he done), but truthfully, he was exhausted. Tom wanted to assume it would be nothing in the morning, yet this felt like one of those fights you couldn’t come back from– he could only pray that night it was just a bad thought.

♡ ♡ ♡

Your eyes fluttered open to the dawn of the day. A low light peaked through before the bright sun was coming over the horizon, eerily feeling like it was the end of a dull rainy day. But, it wasn’t the predicted weather that made you sad but rather the thought of you and Tom losing your friendship.

He always told you beforehand when he was going somewhere, and now he didn’t even acknowledge the thought. You were in denial of the jealousy in your veins, coursing like a constant river that no dam could restrain.

Maybe he’s moving on, You thought. Words you didn’t want to say out loud.

It’s apart of the no relationship and sex spoken agreemen to not have feelings. But, this feeling was doing nothing than eating you up from the inside out, like something was prickling inside every body part.

A few seconds later, Tom was rolled over on the other side of the bed and staring at his front door across the room. He hated when you two fought which was rare, especially when it came to defining what you were. The only time there were any major arguments was during high school, when you were both juvenile and immature (at least you thought you had become more mature with time).

Complicated as it was, everything seemed to be fine until that news came up to you last night. What made him upset more was that he wanted to tell you at some time of you being here, but Tom also had his doubts that you would want to leave and move on. It was the feeling of not wanting to close a chapter when you know the end is coming to a book. There could have been a million ways of it ending, but this wasn’t one of the ideal ones.

“Y/N?” Tom asked in his groggy tone.

You refused to roll over, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. You wanted to be angry, but it was hard since you were never mad at him.

“Can we talk?” He asked again.

Caving to the possible consequences, you rolled over and saw his pretty face. A face you struggled to be mad at, but you almost lightened up at the sight of his bright brown eyes.

“Yes?” You replied.

“Last night… It was messy. I don’t want to be like this. I want things to be okay again.”

“You didn’t answer my question last night, so you made it pretty obvious how you feel about me, Tom. This whole thing is a fling and I feel in and over my head right now.” You truthfully told him.

Tom could have never pictured those words leaving your mouth, but obviously you had been feeling this way for a while which hurt him since you were up in his head about how he’s expressing his own doubts and feelings.

“So, then you didn’t think this was serious either? Like, this whole time I was stringing you around for sex?”

You sat up, “I’m not arguing with you right now, Tom. Frankly, I don’t even want to be with you right now.” You said out of spite.

“What? You give up like that? I’m trying to have a conversation–”

“No! You’re talking at me, and I’m confused and annoyed by all this. It’s like we don’t know each other anymore and it’s just sad.” You scoffed as you walked to your suitcase toward the couch, kneeling down and tossing your clothes in.

Tom sighed, “What are you doing?”

“I’m packing a few things. Sorry, I don’t want to be somewhere where I’m exactly feeling welcomed.”

“Why do you get the last say, huh? Where was all these emotions and talks any other time we talk?”

“Well it’s not like you were saying anything to me either.” You sneered back, “Maybe we… don’t know or understand each other like we used to.”

Tom stood in front of you, both of you with defensive positions and silence filling the room again.

“Yeah… Maybe we don’t anymore.” He replied.

And just like that, you left his apartment with no other notice as to where you’d head off to.

♡ ♡ ♡

It had been a week since you retreated from New York after the huge argument. After a grueling time at the airport, a mixture of crying and getting stuffed over snacks, you were eager to be on the plane.

At the same time, you hadn’t heard from Tom, and it took a toll on you more than you thought. Noticing the “Last seen” on your Instagram message to him, bothered by being the last person to text him in the messages– it was like he was suddenly a ghost.

You didn’t mope around that whole week either, trying to forget Tom once you piled your workload back on and stayed at your desk for hours to even think about him with a tired brain. Still, there was an emptiness you felt by not having to check your phone every other minute. TV shows and movies weren’t the same. Eating your favorite snacks didn’t taste the same. Even going on car rides and listening to music felt pointless. Everything was a bit gray and gloomy (like London weather).

Just as any other weekend went, you planned to watch a movie, regardless of how boring or corny it may be, and have a snack you picked up at the corner store. After getting your two favorite fluffy blankets from the closet, there was a few knocks on the front door. You thought it was the neighbor asking about their cat or a person trying to sell you something, but instead you were met with the face you least expected to see.

Tom turned with a small smile, “Hey…”

“H-Hi.” You nodded, thinking it was a dream.

“So, I know we haven’t spoken in a week, but I um- I didn’t like Paris.” He summarized.

You pressed your lips together, “Oh… sorry about that.”

“You know why I didn’t like it?” He asked, a bit jokingly.

You replied with another shy nod.

“Because I didn’t have someone who would make fun of the snooty French people there in a silly accent.” He chuckled, his hands in his pockets, “And… I didn’t have someone who wanted to go to those sites because they saw it in a book or a map and just thought about going there than just looking it up on their phone… I didn’t have you, Y/N.”

“Well, I think you’re being a bit dramatic.” You joked, “But, I did miss having some guy in my life that is always the life of the party and knows how to make me laugh without even saying anything.”

Tom hugged you tight, almost squeezing you too tight. He was more than happy to be with you again, just as you held him with your arms around his back and your head nuzzled by his head.

“I’m sorry I made you choose.” You sniffled.

“You didn’t… I had to make a choice and I want us to be… us. Together…” He trailed, pulling back to see your face. His thumb brushed over the tear hanging on your cheek bone, cupping your cheek before kissing you.

It was as if a new timer restarted on both your lives; one that wouldn’t need to stop.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland x y/n #tshwritersnet

662 notes · View notes

houkagokappa · 2 months

Text

More Yuri, More Manga

It's been a year since I embarked on my journey to read more yuri manga and it's time for a second update!

After all the yuri manga I read for my previous post, I set my eyes on josei and came to the conclusion that josei that either focuses on wlw or contains wlw relationships, is the best kind of manga there is. I read a lot of josei, and as for works that were also yuri, I read Love My Life, Indigo Blue and Free Soul by Yamaji Ebine, based on a recommendation from @theurbanfuturesoftherecentpast (thank you!!!). Yamaji Ebine has a neat minimalist style and she writes messy complex characters. All her manga had a realistic feel to them, which I enjoyed.

I explored other queer works and stumbled upon Yuri to Koe to Kaze Matoi by Renjouji Mei, which is a yuri manga focused on two asexual women and their relationship. Once again, I found the characters highly relatable and realistic. It's nice to see some asexual representation, but at the same time, I wouldn't have minded more development between them, although that might be on me and the expectations I have when I pick up a new yuri title, that unfortunately didn't fit this manga or topic. Both characters were ace, but the protagonist felt romantic attraction whereas her crush didn't. While they got a happy ending, I didn't feel fully satisfied, and would've liked if the manga had explored the partially unresolved feelings more, mostly due to personal reasons, even if the conclusion would've been the same (which it probably would've).

Back to some high school yuri, I finished Omoi no Kakera by Takemiya Jin, which I actually started reading early last year. It's another manga that's relatable to me, as it portrays characters with different sexualities, who befriend each other due to the shared experience of being young, closeted queer people. We got wlw/mlm solidarity, and characters who are more secure with their sexualities looking over those who are still trying to figure theirs out. The interactions and communities reminded me of the queer youth group I used to be part of :') In addition to that, I liked the portrayal of different kinds of attraction, and how the focus was on the life of a queer person, rather than a specific romance they experienced, since there's indeed more to being queer than some singular love story. Out of all the manga on this list, this is one of my top recommendations, and at some point I should check out Takemiya's other works. She's out as a lesbian, and you can tell she writes based on lived queer experiences.

One day when I didn't have anything else to read, I picked up Luminous=Blue by Iwami Kyoko (same author as Kyou wa Kanojo ga Inai kara). It had the same beautiful artstyle as Kyou wa Kanojo ga Inai kara, was slightly less toxic, but equally messy when it came to the relationships. Luminous=Blue is about a transfer student who loves photography. She starts taking photos of her two new classmates, who unbeknownst to her used to go out with each other, and still harbour some lingering feelings towards each other. I was a fan of the different relationship dynamics and happy with the direction the manga and the relationships took, although the last pages included a twist which felt a little out of place. It's a shame, because if it had been given more time, it could've been a very interesting and welcome development, and I'm curious if Kyou wa Kanojo ga Inai kara will go in a similar direction, since it has the prerequisites for it.

I also read Toumei na Usui Mizuiro ni by the same author, which had an interesting premise of a girl with a crush on her female childhood friend, who was dating their other, male childhood friend. Normally I like this kind of setting with love triangles that include both straight and queer relationships, but since this was only 3 chapters long, the characters and their dynamics weren't established enough for the story to feel as cohesive and satisfying as it could've. At least the art was gorgeous once again, and I enjoyed the messy relationships. The volume contained two one shots as well, which I think were kinda fun, but I cannot remember that well anymore.

Next up, I read Moonlight Flowers by Tsukumo Mutsumi, based on a personal recommendation from someone who has since escaped tumblr. It's one of the older yuri works there are, as it was written in 1989. It's only one volume long and contains two stories about women who are pressured to marry men, and end up in miserable marriages, until they decide to leave their husbands to be with the women they love. It has a strong feminist message and I've seen a lot of people praise it online, but I wasn't too fond of it. I couldn't quite connect with the characters, and because of that, I didn't particularly enjoy reading about women lacking rights, or homosexuality not being socially accepted. However, I can see how others might be able to feel inspired or empowered reading about characters who overcome the obstacles in their way. It was also quite dramatic, but I will always be in favour of that (even when it's ridiculous, like it was here).

I continued with Sakura no Sono by Yoshida Akimi, which was another recommendation from the same person. It's another old manga, first published in 1985, about the romances of four girls in a drama club of an all girls high school. I found Yoshida's style charming, but it's not among my personal favourites. Some characters looked quite similar and were hard to distinguish. It was disappointing to realise that only one chapter focused on a girl crushing on another girl, while the other romances and the majority of the manga were about straight characters/relationships. If I would've known that from the start, I could've adjusted my expectations accordingly, which is a shame, because now I'm mostly disappointed by the lack of yuri, and it's harder for me to appreciate the work as a whole. It was decent, but quite forgettable.

Then I completed Watashi no Muchi na Watashi no Michi by Momono Moto (same author as Yuunagi Marbled and Kimi Koi Limit from my previous post). I first started reading it 5 years ago, but didn't finish it due to the scanlation taking its sweet time. Now I read it from start to finish. It's about a woman in her early 20's, who's spent all her life pleasing others, and is on the path to marry a male childhood friend of hers, simply out of duty to him and her mom, before her female coworker steps in and swoops her away. The manga takes a weird turn after that, as it turns out the coworker might've had some ulterior motives getting close to our protagonist, but it's interesting, until a somewhat abrupt ending. It was nice to read about a young adult who never cared for romance until she fell in love with her coworker, and for once I didn't even mind the plot point where she was about to marry a man, since it made sense for them and he wasn't overly vilified for how he reacted to her rejection or the reveal of her relationship with another woman (not that it was great either). The art was nice and I liked all the characters. It wasn't anything groundbreaking, but it was a fun read.

Another recommendation from @theurbanfuturesoftherecentpast was Maka-Maka by Kishi Torajiro, an adult manga about the close relationship between two best friends, Jun and Nene. The manga is two volumes long with short chapters in full colour, which required some adjustment from me as I'm usually only reading manga in black and white. It didn't feel like any other yuri I've read, in a good way! My absolute favourite part was how comfortable Jun and Nene were with each other, with a strong mental connection, and frequent, casual sexual encounters. Their relationship felt real and I loved how they kept smiling throughout the sex scenes, which made for an interesting combination of wholesome and horny. I highly recommend this manga, as I'm still thinking about it months later...

Next up, I read Watashi no Sekai wo Kousei suru Chiri no You na Nani ka. by Amano Shuninta. It's about seven university students and their ever changing relationships. Once again, the protagonist was a whole mood as she complained about all her friends having boyfriends which she hated, having a very relatable crush on one of said friends, before getting to live the fantasy of ending up with her. I looooved the inclusion of a toxic lesbian (and her toxic lesbian clique) who would sleep around and toy with others, letting lesbians be flawed people too, but also having wholesome and genuinely good people in the cast, as a counterbalance and showcase of the whole spectrum of different people with different views on love and sex (especially fitting for the university age/setting). There were happy times, but also angst and heartbreak, and bittersweet love, between women who truly cared for each other, but weren't suitable for each other as they had different needs when it came to their relationship and sex life. At first it was a little challenging to keep track of seven different characters, but by the end of it I really enjoyed the various relationship dynamics and the somewhat unlikely friendships that formed between them.

I also read Sweet Guilty Love Bites by Amano Shuninta, which consisted of three short stories about four cabaret girls. The first story was about one of the cabaret girls taking in a random woman she came across, which I didn't care for that much. The second story was about a single mother who unknown to her, hooked up with her child's kindergarten teacher. First she freaked out, thinking she'd be judged for her profession, but the kindergarten teacher was chill and only looking to date her. It was very sweet to see them take care of the child together. I also loved the third story about two cabaret girls who were best friends and roommates, with one of them being very vocal about her love towards women and other cabaret girls, which is a trait I always appreciate. Seeing her pining for her friend/roommate/coworker was great, and precisely the kind of stuff I love! Amano has a lot more in her library and after enjoying these two manga, I think the rest are worth checking out as well. I especially like how her characters are allowed to be horny, but there’s more to her manga than just sex.

Then I picked up Kimi to Shiranai Natsu ni Naru by Keyyan, thanks to the premise which sounded relatable. It’s about two women who are at the end of their university studies and looking for work in Tokyo, facing rejection after rejection. They’ve had enough of it and decide to run away from all the expectations and responsibilities to a small island. First of all, what a mood. Second, I really liked the art, especially the character expressions, and how well their excitement was conveyed. The island setting was also A+, and I loved the portrayal of young adults who were in an established relationship, with no uncertainty or drama about the same-sex relationship itself. They were devoted to each other, and the reason both of them wanted to work hard, so they could provide for one another. Besides that, my feelings towards this manga went back and forth quite a lot. First I enjoyed the escapism, but then I had to take a break because it became too idealised with conveniences you can't count on in real life. Once I picked it back up again, I realised that the story actually does stick to reality, when the characters start to worry about money and finding permanent work on the island. While I was happy with that development, it backfired as I was reading this while I was away from home myself, and anxious about my own future in regards to my education and employment, so reading about their struggles felt a bit too real and stressful. Unfortunately, it seems like the series got axed, because the ending was sudden and can be interpreted in two opposing ways, one depressing, one hopeful, and neither fits the story I can only assume the series wanted to tell. It's still a manga worth reading, but maybe in the right mindset.

Although I try to stay away from ongoing works, Dore ga Koi ka ga Wakaranai by Oku Tamamushi seemed fun, so I couldn't help but check it out. It’s about a girl who is unable to confess to her high school crush of 3 years, and starts university determined to find a girlfriend. And oh boy does she find potential girlfriends! She instantly meets and falls for five different women, who also become enamoured with her. What follows is a bunch of flirting, some deliberate, some accidental. The catch is, she doesn't know which one to pursue seriously. The tone is lighthearted and comedic, and the series is best described by the tagline to one of the chapters as "an endless conveyor belt of yuri encounters". I like all the girls, the girls and their embarrassed or flustered expressions are very cute, and instead of the setting falling apart with five people never confessing or trying to seriously pursue the main girl, some do, while others have believable reasons to hold back. The pace is quick enough for any interruptions or miscommunications to not feel aggravating, with several encounters each chapter. I'm curious to see how the manga will continue and potentially end, with some ships seeming more likely than others, since there has been some actual development! I'll also throw it out there, that this manga is a good example of why dark haired girl/light haired girl is an established pairing, since the main pursuer at the moment has light hair and bangs like the protagonist, and it can be a little difficult to tell them apart from some panels or angles.

Another ongoing work I began reading because it ticked the right boxes for me was Sukeban to Tenkousei by Fujichika. As the name suggests, it’s about the somewhat unlikely relationship between a delinquent girl and a sweet transfer student. The manga is set in the Showa era in the 80s and has very charming art. I thought it would be pretty lighthearted and fun, opposites attract type of story, but then one of the characters saw how romantic love was defined as feelings towards the opposite sex, heartbroken by the fact there wasn't a name for her feelings, and I was in tears thinking of anyone who's ever felt that pain. Otherwise, it's mostly a comedy and a fun, easy read, with not that many chapters out yet.

Finally, reaching the anniversary of my year long yuri journey, I finished reading the manga adaptation of Murasakiiro no Qualia, by Ueo Hisamitsu and Tsunashima Shirou. It's a sci-fi series with psychological and mystery elements, about Yukari, a girl with purple eyes who sees humans as robots, and Gaku, the protagonist who befriends her. There are a lot of twists and turns to the story, and it gets gory and dark, as Yukari uses her abilities to help the police solve murder cases and later gets involved with a secret organisation. It's also very philosophical and a bit difficult/slow to read at times, when characters get surprisingly deep into quantum mechanics. I liked the narration a lot, because there's a lot of repetition and Gaku, who's telling the story, jumps back and forth on the timeline, giving the reader more context and insights each time. I was also a huge fan of the character development she went through, starting to exhibit truly unhinged behavior to a level that's hard to find elsewhere, but also oddly reminiscent of Madoka Magica? The ending was satisfying, and it was cool to see it circle back to the beginning. I didn't know anything about this manga beforehand and after a curious start, it kept getting better and better. I originally found out about it in the tags of a tumblr post complaining about variety in yuri, so this is me giving back to the community and passing on the recommendation.

...That was a lot more yuri to add to the library, and there are still so many different works I look forward to reading! I don't know if I'll continue documenting my journey, as I'm probably going to slow down on the yuri a bit, but who knows if the bug bites me again and I won't read anything else for months on end! Again, thank you for reading through all this, I hope you're inspired to read some yuri yourself, and if you have any recommendations I'm always happy to hear them!

17 notes · View notes

sesamestreep · 1 year

Note

Nick/Jess, 15!

15. i’ll save you a seat (from this prompt list)

IT’S MILLER’S TIME

The bestselling author of the hit YA series ‘The Pepperwood Chronicles’ opens up about seeing his work adapted for television, his new novel, and becoming a father.

LOS ANGELES - The lunchtime crowd at Gogo’s Tacos in Silver Lake is more plentiful and aggressive than the colleague who recommended the spot for my interview with Nick Miller led me to believe it would be on a weekday, which means I spend the twenty minutes between when I show up (ten minutes early) and when he arrives (ten minutes late and convincingly apologetic about it) fighting off other patrons who are convinced I’m lying about expecting someone and want to steal his seat. His appearance in the busy restaurant is welcome for more reasons than one.

We’re here to discuss the new Netflix adaptation of his bestselling book series, The Pepperwood Chronicles, into a television series. The first season, which drops this Friday on the streaming platform, takes on the Herculean task of adapting the first book in the series (clocking in at 628 pages) into just eight episodes of television. It’s a highly anticipated project for the army of Pepperheads out there, who want to see if Sebastian Stan truly has what it takes to embody the titular grizzled New Orleans detective from Miller’s beloved novels, but it’s not the only project that’s been occupying Miller’s time lately. He’s also got his debut novel for the adult market, the stylishly-titled HoBo, which draws heavily on his childhood in Chicago, coming out in November. But the project he’s most anxious to brag about is one he had—by his own admission—very little to do with, aside from the original idea. The lion’s share of the credit belongs to his wife.

“This is Reggie,” he says, stretching his phone across the table proudly, swiping through dozens of photos of a pleasantly chunky infant in a Chicago Bears onesie. “Oh, and that’s Mario,” he says, when we get to a photo of a dog sniffing the same baby, asleep in a car seat and wearing a hooded jacket with bear ears.

“I know he looks like a funky little alien right now, but my wife says that most babies get really cute around the six month mark,” Miller says, after suddenly remembering that he has tacos he could be eating. He takes an enormous bite of one before making a face. “God, don’t print that. My son is already adorable. I love him.”

We debate whether or not I can actually print that comment (guess who won) for a few minutes before Miller finally allows us to move on. I ask, given his penchant for drawing details from his own life to use in his novels, if this recent development for him means we can expect the next Pepperwood installment to find Julius Pepperwood and his leading lady, Jessica Knight, contemplating parenthood.

“I don’t know about that,” Miller says, with his mouth full. “It’s not that one-to-one for me. Yes, Pepperwood is based on me in some ways, but in many other ways he isn’t, you know? Same goes for Jessica Knight. She’s based on my wife, definitely, but I’ve never felt constricted by that. I’ve always felt like the characters follow their own path, though they take inspiration from my real life.”

In this answer, Miller has given me both an articulate response and neatly sidestepped giving any confirmation of further Pepperwood installments, which forces me to ask the question directly. His face goes blank for a moment afterwards, and he spends a while chewing before he attempts to answer.

“I’m not saying no,” he finally replies, wiping his hands on a napkin, while looking thoughtfully into the distance. “But I’m also not saying yes. There have been people—and my wife tells me not to read the reviews or the comments, but sometimes, you know, shit happens and you see some stuff—there’s people who think Pepperwood is too happy now. They liked him when he was tortured. Now, he’s got the love of his life by his side, he solved his brother’s murder, he made peace with his father. It’s like, where’s the tension anymore? But at the same time, I don’t want to make him miserable again just to sell more books.”

Miller talks about Pepperwood (and Knight and all of his characters) like they’re real people, a fact he shrugs off when I point it out.

“Of course,” he says. “Of course they’re real to me. It’s important to remember that they’ve been with the readers for six books now, but they’ve been with me for longer than that. And they don’t leave me alone when the book is done, either, like they do for my readers.”

They don’t seem to leave his readers alone after the last page, actually, if the healthy fandom producing fanart and fanfiction online are any indication. Miller, of course, has thoughts.

“I’m pleased about it,” he says, with his usual Chicago-born nonchalance. “It’s always made me happy that my work resonates with people, especially young people. I didn’t see that coming, in the beginning. It wasn’t supposed to be a YA series.”

The origins of The Pepperwood Chronicles are the publishing world’s version of a Cinderella story. Miller initially published the first book in the series himself at the encouragement of his friends, hawking the hand bound (!) copies at local bookstores with the encouragement of his then-girlfriend, as well as his future wife (“Two different women,” he clarifies. “It’s a long story.”) The hefty novel all about the seedy underbelly of New Orleans very quickly found a devoted fan base amongst a surprising audience: teenage girls. Where other authors might have bristled, Miller instead took his unexpected champions in stride.

“Like, there was definitely some initial shock to get over,” he explains. “If I’d known I was writing to teenagers specifically, I would have cut, well, a few things from that manuscript.” He’s referring delicately to some pretty explicit sex scenes and graphic violence, which definitely get toned down in later installments of the series. Confronted with this, Miller shrugs and says only, “That’s show biz!”

Speaking of show biz, how does he feel about the Netflix adaptation of his work?

“It was really interesting,” he offers, thoughtfully. “I’m grateful they didn’t ask me to write it, because it turns out I’m a terrible screenwriter.” Before I can ask him to elaborate on that, he continues, “But the team really did check in with me a lot and they made sure the tone felt right, and the changes they had to make worked with my understanding of the world and the characters. I felt like they really respected Pepperwood, which obviously means a lot to me.”

Miller is being generous, of course, considering he and his wife are both executive producers on the series. When I mention this, however, he waves it off. “They still could have told me to fuck off with my opinions,” he says.

As for working with his wife in that capacity, he’s more than happy to sing her praises. “She’s great. Aside from myself, she’s the person I trust most to get Pepperwood, you know? Like my editors and my agent and everybody, they’re amazing, but if I’m really stuck, Jess is the one I can turn to and be like ‘does this work? Or does it suck?’ And she’ll tell me. She’s always been that person for me. She’s the first person I shared the first draft of the first book with, so her input is invaluable. Or is it valuable?”

“They mean the same thing,” I tell him.

“That’s stupid,” he replies. “I mean, I’m not calling you stupid. The English language is stupid sometimes. My wife’s input is very important to me, is what I’m saying. Her instincts are spot on.”

And they should be, after all. When she’s not producing the Pepperwood TV series with her husband, Jessica Day (yes, you’re reading that right. Miller’s wife and the inspiration for his character Jessica Knight is named Jessica Day. Check the dedication on the first Pepperwood novel if you don’t believe me) works for Scholastic, as a part of their team that handles community outreach to K-12 schools across the country. (Miller’s publishing deal is with an imprint of Simon & Schuster, in case anyone is worried about favoritism.) Before that, she worked briefly in the nonprofit industry and as a middle school teacher and later vice principal.

“She understands the demographic perfectly,” Miller summarizes, fifteen minutes into an endearing monologue about how great his wife is. “I think the writers for the TV show liked having her around even more than having me. She really knows her stuff.”

When I follow up a few days later with Ms. Day for comment, her husband’s remarks amuse but don’t surprise her. “He’s always giving me too much credit,” she says, humbly.

Does it weird her out at all, to have so many people so intensely invested in the fictionalized version of her love life?

“It’s funny. I know the names are really similar and obviously Nick borrows things here and there from our real life,” she says, “but I really don’t feel like Jessica Knight is me. So I don’t take it personally at all.”

This isn’t the first time this attitude has come up in interviews. Last year, when casting was announced for the Netflix series, Day made headlines for defending the production’s decision to cast British actress Gugu Mbatha-Raw as Jessica Knight after many fans claimed she didn’t match Knight’s description in the books.

“Gugu’s a very talented actress. I’ve seen her screen tests and she will blow you away when you see the show, I promise!” Day took to Twitter to say at the time.

“She capture [sic] JK’s energy perfectly,” she added in a further tweet. “Please welcome her to the Pepperwood family as we have!”

Now, Day is less diplomatic in her response. “It was a small portion of fans who were upset,” she says, “but they were the loudest contingency. It was very upsetting, and honestly tacky. So what if she doesn’t look like me? The character isn’t me, first of all. And the books are set in New Orleans, for God’s sake! It would be stupid if the entire main cast was white people.”

When I accuse her of saying the quiet part loud, as the kids say, Day seems nonplussed. “It’s those new mom hormones, I guess,” she replies, as a baby cries in the background of the phone call as if on cue. “I just don’t give a fu…dge.”

Miller, during our interview, feels similarly. “The team went with the best people for the parts, and we made it clear, my wife and I, that they absolutely weren’t trying to cast our doppelgängers. That wasn’t the point. Honestly, it would have freaked me out if they had.”

So he doesn’t think he and Stan look alike?

“No, not at all,” he says, automatically. “Do you?”

“He kind of seems like a more Hollywood version of you, yeah.”

Miller takes a long time thinking this over. “That’s…huh…”

In order to distract him from the existential spiral I’ve inadvertently led him down, I switch us over to the topic of his new book, HoBo. It’s made several lists of most anticipated books for this fall (including this publication’s) but there was a while there where Miller feared the manuscript would never see the light of day.

“The publisher thought it was too dark for the teen market,” he says, without any of the smarmy pride one would expect from the average male author accused of being ‘too dark’ by The Man. “I had no idea! I thought Pepperwood was too dark for teens and they loved it! So, there was a bit there when I was like, ‘okay, so this is the end, I guess.’”

Miller isn’t being melodramatic either. There was a moment, according to him and confirmed by his editor, Merle Streep, where they considered parting ways. Luckily, they came to an understanding once the dust settled and Miller pitched the novel, then titled “Chicago Hobo”, for the adult market. The source of this brilliant solution? You guessed it: Jessica Day.

“My wife’s a genius,” Miller states. “It was so simple and yet none of us could see it. Of course they should market the book to adults, if they thought it was too gritty for teens. Obviously.”

Day, however, downplays her contribution. “The issue with the manuscript came to a head on our wedding day, if you can believe it. On our honeymoon, it was all Nick could talk about. He was worried he’d never publish another book again. I suggested he send the manuscript around to other publishers to see if there was interest, but pitch it as, you know, a book for grownups. I thought it would make him feel better. I had no idea that the minute he did that, his original publisher would come back to him with a deal.”

But that’s exactly what they did. He’s also on the hook for three more books after that, though he’s cagey with details about if those will be HoBo sequels, further Pepperwood adventures, or something else entirely.

“We’re in a really pivotal moment,” Miller says, looking a little bit sweaty as he admits it. “We’ll see how Pepperwood does as a TV show, we’ll see how people feel about HoBo when it comes out.” He pauses to laugh. “We’ll see if being a father completely fries my brain and I never write another coherent sentence ever again.”

Early reviews and chatter are saying that the new novel is every bit as cinematic as The Pepperwood Chronicles, which suggests a screen adaptation is more a matter of “when” than “if.” It is, by Miller’s own admission, even more autobiographical than Pepperwood (the preteen narrator is Travis Tiller, called “Trick” by his friends, so do with that what you will). It’s based, in many ways, on his childhood in Chicago, but it’s also equal parts dystopian speculative fiction and superhero origin story, with a heavy pour of magical realism to wash it down. The cinematic universe practically writes itself.

“We just don’t know,” Miller replies vaguely. No matter what I do, I can’t get him to speculate on bringing this book to the small or big screen. “I don’t want to jinx anything,” he adds, frantically, after many such questions.

Fine. But, as pure speculation, what actor does he think, potentially, has what it takes to bring the eponymous hobo to life on screen?

“Rock Hudson,” he says, after much bullying.

When I inform him that Rock Hudson is dead and has been for more than 30 years, Miller looks crestfallen. What about preteen Trick Tiller, then? Is there anyone Miller would entrust to play his younger self?

“Cate Blanchett,” he replies.

When I point out that she’s both older than him and a different gender, he frowns. “She played Bob Dylan, though,” he counters, confused. I concede that he’s got me there.

We return to the much safer topic of conversation that is the current adaptation of one of his novels. What’s he most looking forward to now that the show is finally premiering?

“Getting to go on a date with my wife,” he says, sincerely, with the dead-eyed stare of a sleep-deprived new parent. “Seriously. We’re getting a sitter to watch the baby, we’re bringing a few of our close friends, who are all getting sitters for their babies. It’s going to be really fun. It’s going to be a classic mess around.”

A what?

“Don’t worry about it,” Miller says.

Is there anyone whose opinion he’s particularly anxious about, when it comes to the TV show? Or even his new novel?

“I’m always worried about what the fans think. I want the Pepperwood fans to like the show. I want them to like the new book, even though it’s not about Pepperwood, you know?”

Does he think there will be crossover?

“Absolutely I do, yes,” he says, emphatically. “The kids who read Pepperwood when it first came out—this is terrifying to say, but—they’re grown up now. They’re in college or they’re young professionals. HoBo is written for their age group now. It will be marketed to them.”

It’s kind of like they’ve grown up with him.

“Don’t say that,” Miller replies, putting his head in his hands dramatically. “I’m gonna have a panic attack. Having an actual biological child is scary enough.”

Speaking of scary, to distract him from another existential crisis, I ask if he’s been starstruck at any part of the process of turning his beloved novels into a TV show, and his answer is surprising to say the least.

“I mean, I was a little bit starstruck meeting Alfred Molina the first time. He was already in costume as Schmith, too, which was an extra level of weird,” he says, referring to the iconic love-to-hate-him villain of the first Pepperwood book and a supporting player in many of the series’s other installments. Still, Miller eventually got used to the idea of Doc Ock himself being in the show.

“Oh, I know my big starstruck moment,” he adds. “When Taylor Swift tweeted about the trailer. That was like…Woah! Is this really happening?”

That’s right. When the show’s first trailer debuted in March, the Grammy-winning singer took to Twitter to express her excitement.

“I can’t believe how good this looks,” she tweeted with the emoji of the cat making the Home Alone face. “Is it September yet?!?”

Can we take his excitement over this interaction the confirmation we’ve all been waiting for that Nick Miller is a Swiftie?

“I don’t know what that is, but I like her. She’s really talented. When my wife’s upset, she likes to listen to Taylor Swift and cry while she drinks pink wine,” he says, before taking a troubled pause. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.”

Day laughs when I tell her this anecdote during our phone call and gives me the go-ahead to print it. “It’s true,” she says. “Who cares?”

So, if they had to pick a Swift song to represent Julius Pepperwood and Jessica Knight’s relationship, what would it be?

Miller’s answer is simple: “You should ask my wife.”

Day’s response, on the other hand, is more complex. “I think it evolves over time, you know, from book to book. Probably in the early books, before they get together for real, it’s ‘Out of the Woods’ or ‘Wildest Dreams.’ Maybe even ‘White Horse,’ if you want to go back into her catalog.”

What about for her and Miller?

“That’s easy,” Day says, and the smile is obvious in her voice. “I’ve always thought of ‘Mine’ as our song of hers.”

This conversation mostly just confirms Miller’s assertion that his wife knows his characters just as well as he does. It also begs the important question of whether he’ll use this big moment in his career as leverage to arrange a meeting between Swift and his wife.

“I don’t know,” he says, honestly. “Maybe? I should ask Jess. She might kill me if I pulled that on her with no warning.”

As our meal and interview come to an end, I can’t help asking Miller a question that has been on my mind the whole time: with all this talk of how great and inspiring his wife is, and how integral to his creative process she’s become, does he happen to identify as a Wife Guy?

“I don’t know what that is either. You keep saying these things—I’ve never heard of them before,” he admits. “But I like the sound of it. So, yeah. I guess so. Unless it’s a bad thing. In which case, no. Was that—did I answer your question?”

In this case, just like so many of Nick Miller’s characters before us, we might have to make peace with an ambiguous ending.

•

The Pepperwood Chronicles premieres exclusively on Netflix this Friday.

#forgive any stupid mistakes it should go without saying that I’m not an actual journalist #also I genuinely don’t even know what year to pretend this is set in…who knows tbh??#I have a lot of feelings about the Pepperwood chronicles it turns out phew #new girl #nick miller #jessica day #nick x jess #god this was so fun to write #taylor swift song prompts #firstelevens #homelywenchsociety #<just my writing tag don’t worry about it #IDK IT IS WHAT IT IS!!#there’s so many Easter eggs in this….a whole basket’s worth #barely relates to the prompt I tried

116 notes · View notes

lola-babylon · 4 months

Text

Ryan Ross has said, in a podcast appearance with friends in 2019, that he doesn't regret leaving PATD. Which is good. It's a terrible thing to live with regret.

A question I'd be more interested in, is whether he regrets that Panic got so big so quickly? Does he ever wish they'd had more time to mature, musically and individually, and to develop their sound and fan base over time? It may not have been likely from a clashing personalities point of view but I'm most interested in how he views the situation as a musician, whether he ever wishes they'd had more opportunities to focus on the music, which is hard to do when you're 19/20 years old and suddenly facing a crazy situation like Panic were thrown in when AFYCSO blew up.

I'd kind of compare Panic's situation to that of The Strokes with Is This It and the media frenzy that created, except The Strokes:

Were just a couple of years older - which makes a huge difference at that age;

Broke big just before the early days of social media and didn't have the teenage fan base with all the intense scrutiny, bandom and shipping;

Refused to do anything "commercial" (you wouldn't see them on a tour sponsored by a car manufacturer) so The Strokes kind of handicapped themselves with sales and promotion right there.

Also as opposed to Ryan, Julian Casablancas is the primary songwriter and lead singer, which gave him a control over his band that Ryan didn't have.

Just thinking out loud, but if Ryan gives any interviews in the future I'd like someone to ask him how he feels about this as a musician, rather than asking him about a quip he made about spray cheese 20 years ago.

About shippers, though.

The Strokes provided so, so much source material for shippers. What Brendon and Ryan hinted at in their stage act...

The Strokes spelled outall the damn time.

Then there was whatever Julian had going on with Jack White.

A direct quote from Jack White: "Julian stayed at my house and slept in my childhood bedroom, even wore my pajamas. He came into my room in the middle of the night thinking it was the bathroom and we laughed." (From Meet Me In The Bathroom)

Oh bandom shippers, why are you searching for crumbs from Petekey when there is this much juicy meat to gnaw on?

I'm not implying that the Strokes had greater artistic integrity than Panic for rejecting commercial opportunities. For most bands, the dream is just to be able to support yourselves financially by making music, and even if you achieve that it can end at any moment. If you're offered commercial opportunities, you pretty much have to take them; this could be the one shot you have to establish some financial security beyond the grind of life as a touring musician. That wasn't an issue for the Strokes - (in)famously, most of them came from wealthy backgrounds. They could afford to say no to commercial opportunities - even if that didn't make sense to people in their inner circle. To quote Amanda de Cadenet, wife of Strokes guitarist Nick Valensi: "They're the band that turned down a million dollars for some Heineken ad. That's dumb. Ryan [Gentiles, the Strokes long time manager] has taken a lot of flak for not being able to do things that we all think they should have done, but nobody can get these fuckers to do anything they don't want to do." (Again from Meet Me In The Bathroom).

The main point of this post is wondering if Ryan Ross, as a musician, ever wishes Panic had had a slower burn, more of a chance to find their feet as people and a band before the onslaught of fame. But in research for this post I found photos I just had to share, and here we are.

#pre split panic #panic at the disco #ryan ross #the strokes band #julian casablancas #jack white #pete wentz #mikey way

10 notes · View notes

thislovintime · 1 year

Photo

Peter Tork; photos by Nurit Wilde.

“Tork in the late 1960’s” - Nurit Wilde, Instagram, June 19, 2021

“I’m free, I don’t know what I’ll be doing. I’m actually a little apprehensive, because there’s no doubt that there are three other incredibly talented fellows out there. They’re very talented guys. Mike is one of the funniest people I’ve ever known. Micky is even funnier and Davy is just cute as a button. Who could ask for anything more? Davy dances so great, did you see him dance in the film? I’ve not seen dancing like that on the screen except from Fred Astaire. The only other thing is that I’m both really relieved and really, really apprehensive. I’m terribly glad and also terribly sad.” - Peter Tork, NME, January 25, 1969

"[Tork] says The Peter Tork Project plays music ‘sort of on the heavy end’ of album-oriented rock radio. ‘We’re not heavy metal per say, but we’re just on the pop side of that,’ adds the affable performer. The band, formed in January with Scott Avitabile on guitar, Jerry Renino on bass and Derek Lord at the drums, is one of several ensembles with which Tork has performed since leaving The Monkees. [In the early 1970s, Peter was a member of the] San Francisco-based rock band named [Osceola]. ‘That was a name full of significance,’ he said. ‘[Osceola] was chief of the Seminoles, the only tribe never to have surrendered to the federal government.’ Tork said he identifies strongly with that kind of defiance. ‘All of my early life was spent feeling out of whack. Physically I matured late and never was very athletic and always found myself on the short end of the stick. I was raised in a liberal family in the middle of the McCarthy era.’ Against those odds, Tork inevitably developed an inferiority complex that he carried into adulthood and his musical career. When he became one of four young men chosen out of 437 applicants to become what were supposed to be the ‘American Beatles,’ his self-doubt grew to mammoth proportions. ‘Half of the time I would think I didn’t deserve it and the other half I would think I was God’s gift to the children. I got my head turned around. It was the “arrogant doormat” syndrome low self-esteem combined with arrogance.’ [...] Tork recalls now that he wanted things done his way, but wasn’t willing to put his effort where his mouth was. His subsequent attempts at a career of his own were consistent failures, and for a while in the mid-’70s he joined his wife in the teaching profession, instructing a variety of classes in private high schools. That career was shortlived. [More about Peter’s time teaching here and here.] ‘Not that I didn’t enjoy teaching, but there’s no money in it. It’s a tragic comment on social priorities, but there it is.’ Tork expresses fervent enthusiasm for his new group [...]. As for his old bandmates, with whom he enjoyed superstardom for such a short time so many years ago, Tork says he stays in touch. Assessing his relationships with each one, Tork favored the diminutive, British-born Davy Jones ‘because he could see things the others couldn’t. Occasionally he was able to reach down into the depths.’ Drummer [Micky] Dolenz, who gained childhood fame as TV’s ‘Circus Boy,’ was ‘a whole lot more fun’ to be around than the other Monkees. Nesmith, considered the most creative of the four, was the most ‘respectable, in the sense that he did his work and had a sense of his own work ethic.’” - The Daily Oklahoman, November 7, 1983

"To tell you truth… I… I never was able in those days [the '60s] particularly — I’m getting better at it these days — but in those days I was almost entirely unable to fight for what I saw as quality. If I didn’t get somebody fighting on my behalf then it didn’t, just didn’t come to pass." - Peter Tork, Headquarters radio, September 1989 (read more here)

"I had pathological self value. I really didn’t have a sense of it at all. I didn’t get why. I thought I had been picked almost at random. I didn’t have any sense of myself bringing anything except that character to the Monkees. What I thought they hired me for was that character, and I think to this day that that had a lot to do with it. I didn’t recognize how that sprung forth from whom who I really am. I thought I was faking them out. I thought I was handing them a lie and they were buying the lie — and so how could I value myself? Any time you compliment somebody and they can’t take the compliment, what they’re saying to you is, ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ That’s the message that anybody with low self-esteem gives back when somebody compliments them. Which is where I was. All that played into this fame thing.  And it plays backwards, too. The reason that I got into the fame game was because I didn’t have any sense of value. I thought, ‘Jeez, if I can get the millions to love me then I’ll be all right.’ I got the millions to love me — and it still wasn’t all right. What a surprise. Ha, ha, ha.” - Peter Tork, Toxic Fame: Celebrities Speak on Stardom (1996) (x)

65 notes · View notes

frayed-symphony · 9 months

Text

Since Twitter might not be a thing for much longer I wanted to move the trivia threads for my picture books to tumblr.

OC lore dump and sketches for my first self-published picture book Hurricane Lane under the cut;

The number one thing I'm worried about is people thinking my book is related to the hurricane of the same name. I wrote this in 2010-2011 which predates it and the title is meant to convey Amelia's life in her suburban town and how she views it more dramatically then it is.

The name was also inspired by this beautiful song by The Hush Sound which I was listening to a lot whilst concepting and really influenced aesthetics (more subdued colour, the inclusion of the piano being an important story point etc).

I started getting interested in children's illustration when I saw the Penguin Design Competition advertised at my uni in 2010. I didn't make the cut but figured I'd go ahead and finish my book anyway because at that point I was invested in my story and wanted to complete it.

The contest called for an ebook with interactive pages so I made Hurricane Lane have seven special pages of 'wonders' Amelia finds throughout her story. Unfortunately with flash player gone the interactions don't play but they're still found online here;

I based Amelia's design on a Mii I had made which was supposed to represent a human Pikachu. You can see the Mii on the bottom left here. I really liked how it looked and she gradually evolved into what she is today.

Initially the dinosaur suit that her brother has was going to be worn by Amelia but I preferred her without it and thus Bailey was born. The dinosaur itself was based on a purple stegosaurus keyring I had when I was younger and loved even though I had no keys at the time.

Here are some more initial outfit designs for Amelia but in the end I went with the one on the right, inspired by Miku Hatsune's 'Out and About' module from Project Diva.

The family's father Rupert was partly based on my own dad (definitely the dress sense) but in 2010 I was also really obsessed with the BBC show Merlin and may have tried to age up Colin Morgan a bit to make this character.

The mother's design was a little based on my own Mother's and a little the title character of the film Amelié (she evolved beyond this quite early so there's not too striking a resemblence). I was also obsessed with the music in that film which inspired this book a lot.

I kept it vague whether she worked at the hospital or was staying there as a patient because at the time I had an idea for an overarching narrative where the families of Hurricane Lane and 256 Postcards Ago meet. This didn't pan out so feel free to have your own interpretation.

Here's some initial concepts of the logo which I was mostly scribbling during my Uni classes.

One more random tidbit is that I based the background of their journey home from the Toad's Turnpike track in Mario Kart 64. I really loved that game and it holds a lot of childhood memories for me so the nostalgia felt fitting. Maybe that's too weird to mention!

Towards the end I was concepting the protagonists of Hurricane Lane and 256 Postcards Ago meeting in a connecting rpgmaker game but sadly that never came to be. I'll talk about it more in my thread for the next book though!

I also made a little soundtrack for my book here

1) Kiara 2) Cornflake Girl 3) Indaco 4) La Valse D'Amelie 5) 春よ、来い (kites) 6) The Heart Asks Pleasure First 7) Lotus (dragon hunters) 8) Nightbook 9) Reverie 10) Hurricane

I listened to these songs a lot while reading and the final track inspired the title.

And final last tidbit- Hurricane Lane takes place in my childhood hometown. It doesn't have too many standout locations but I took photos for background references and anyone who lives there may recognize the small nods to it.

(Almost forgot links to where you can read my book) Amazon paperback; https://amazon.com/dp/1475009097 eBook; https://frayedsymphony.gumroad.com/l/LuNug

Thanks for reading!

#myart #childrens book #picture book #hurricane lane #indie authors #kid lit #ocs #lore dump #i know no one cares #but i really dont want to lose these threads

18 notes · View notes

batfamfucker · 2 years

Note

hello do yoy write headcanins for damian wayne?

Haven't yet but I would very much like to, so here. To calify some of these come from different posts I've seen on Tumblr and I can't remember who made them so I do not take credit for some of these. I will put a * next to the ones I did not come up if anyone knows who did or can find the post, feel free to link it in the comments. If the * is half way through it's because the headcanon came from someone else but then I also had my own addictions to then. Anything after the * for these will be my own headcanons.

Damian's eyes used to be brown but during training with the League as a child he was likely killed multiple times. His eyes became green due to the Lazurus Pit and that Batfam only find this out when looking at baby pictures of him. *

It took a while but when he finally settled into the family, he slowly started to accept it's okay to be a kid and let his guard down about 'not wanting to be seen as a child'. Starts to actually have a proper childhood. Only feels comfortable and safe enough to act his age around his family and people he's close with, though. Will only listen to Bruce, Alfred, and his older siblings (Plus Diana and Clark) when being told he can't do something because of age, like a particularly dangerous mission. This also applies to being told needs, like needing to go to bed early or do homework.

He has Martha Wayne's nose. No one could pinpoint whose nose he had until Alfred was cleaning up and found an old photo album, looked through it, and connected the dots. * Alfred immediately ran to tell Bruce, who almost cried because he's so used to everyone expecting Waynes to look like Thomas that he was over the moon for there to also be traits of his mother. Bruce was very greatful to say the least.

Has Autism and struggles with sensory issues. Owns noise cancelling headphones. Has a pair he wears in public that are a sleek black but at home he has a pair of those cat ones with the ears. One of his favourite things to do when he's burnt out is to wear them and listen to ASMR of cats purring whilst having Alfred The Cat in his lap so he can stroke his fur. Good stims.

Is great at masking but it leads to a lot of burnout.

Has non verbal days. Struggled with it a lot at first because he was punished for not answering during his days with the League so he had a lot of anxiety about not being accepted or even hurt. Bruce and Dick were very gentle and reassured him it was okay. It was a slow process but they managed to get there. Cass helped to teach him sign language. He tends to hang around her on these days because it brings him comfort to know it's not just him.

Bruce spoke to doctors and such about diagnosing Damian the minute he started noticing the signs. Being neurodivergent himself (I think Bruce has ADHD and perhaps Autism too) and having multiple children who are also neurodivergent, it didn't take long. You start to be quite good at it.

Bruce also had Damian start having therapy sessions with their family therapist when Damian began settling in. (They 100% have one and you can't tell me otherwise. Bruce himself wouldn't have gotten help at first in the early days but I refuse to believe he's just gonna let his kids sit there with obvious C-PTSD and not do anything. It started years ago when Bruce tracked down reputable therapists and observed them for a while, probably months, before approving that they were trustworthy of knowing secret identities based on their character. He hired them for the League and wider hero community, but also he hired one specifically for his family. He had sessions with Jason when they were finally able to start reconciling which helped the process greatly. He's had sessions with all of his kids. I may make another post about this tbh. He also had multiple sessions with each of his children when he came back from 'death'.) It took a little convincing and at first Damian was essentially wasting his sessions and not being too cooperative, but after some time he started to actually open up. He actually felt relief and it was one of the main things that led him to accepting his Autism diagnosis and processing his trauma and the abuse he experienced. It encouraged him to embrace the freedom he finally had to have a real childhood and actually get to be a kid.

Doesn't always show it but actually feels emotions very deeply and is incredibly empathetic. My dude literally became a vegetarian because he was upset when he realised how awful farm animals were being treated. It's very obvious he cares deeply about others and I find it strange when people think he doesn't. He's Robin for a reason. This boy searched Gotham's sewers for a few of Martha's missing pearls to gift to Bruce. Damian has a heart of gold, it was just damaged for a long time so he didn't know how to treat people at first. In his early days in the family, he was horrible simply because he was raised that way. That's how he had been treated and therefore learned that's how he should treat others. It wasn't until he had the influence of the wider world and was actually treated with love by his family that he was able to unlearn those behaviours and explore that part of him that did want to help others and be kind, to explore his empathy.

Diana will take Damian out to vegetarian restaurants she loves. *

Jason cooks/bakes with Alfred and they always make sure to cook/bake a vegan version of whatever they're making for Damian. Jason also likes to test out new vegan recipes on Damian.

Jason and Alfred also make a list about what foods give Damian sensory issues/What textures Damian doesn't like.

Damian also sometimes likes to cook/bake with them.

After the Pride and Prejudice book borrow event (Which is canon in my mind), Jason reorganised a small corner of his personal library in the Manor and moved his books to replace them with books Damian loves, as well as books he's read that he thinks Dami will like. Made the nook as comfortable for Damian as possible and everything there is designed with some of Damian's favourite textures and such. Like a soft faux fur rug, a really comfy chair and blanket. It's got stim toys and even a hidden mini fridge behind a panel in the book case full of water and snacks. It's so if he's hyperfixating on a good book, he can stay hydrated and stuff. Jason acts tough but is a good brother. Will spoil his siblings and make sure they have everything because he knows what it's like to have nothing.

Gay and (I'm ignoring all the time stuff and pretending him and Jon got to grow up together properly) realises when he begins to crush on Jon. In denial at first but learns to accept it because of his family (Who are 100% all queer in some way). Childhood friends to lovers.

Plays the violin and also learns piano.

Amazing artist. Bruce turns one of the guest rooms into an art studio for Damian. It's fully Damian's space and he's allowed to draw on/paint on the walls, ceilings, etc, not just the canvases. (Sidenote: I headcanon that Bruce tries to give each of his kids their own hobby room. Jason has his library, which is canon, Cass has a dance studio, Dick has one full of circus equipment and obstacles, Tim has a photography studio/gaming room, etc).

Minecraft Mondays with Tim. * Eventually all the other kids also join too and they 'force' Bruce and Alfred to play (Bruce was hoping they'd ask because he loves finding ways to spend time with them and is just happy to be there. Glad that all his kids have something in common that they love and do together. Alfred was just intrigued by it). Surprisingly Bruce is great at the game and will go get the resources so his kids can build. Will kill mobs for them all, expecially for those that are lowkey scared of them (Dick and Jason, who won't admit it). Alfred is a master builder and just disappeared somewhere on the sever. Eventually they find what he was up to and discover he built a whole kingdom by himself. He's also great at speed running the game and got to The End within the first three hours of playing. Dick is terrible at the game. Is the one that will be like 'This is fine. I'm fine' and all you see in the group chat is 'MyNameWasn'tAllowed fell from a high place', 'MyNameWasn'tAllowed tried to swim in lava', 'MyNameWasn'tAllowed was killed by a silverfish'. Babs is the redstone expert. Tim is the sever modder that finds the best mods that will work on servers and installs them for everyone. Also dabbles in redstone. Cass plays the same way Alfred does and will just dissappear, she's also a master. She likes to collect flowers and decorate the area they built. Steph is the server prankster. Duke and Damian tend to do duo quests and adventures together. Jason is the sever food producer and uses it to play farming simulator essentially. Screamed when he was jumpscared by a Creeper that blew up his wheat patch. Cass and Duke helped him rebuild out of sympathy whilst Steph typed out a laughing emoji on a sign and left if in his house. Bruce patrolls near Jason and Dick the most.

Regularly plays chess with Bruce, Alfred, Tim, and Jason. Gives lessons to Duke.

Slips into Arabic when angry and/or overwhelmed. Also when he's sleepy. There's been times where Bruce has carried him to bed and Damian has softly mumbled stuff to him in Arabic. It's usually sweet stuff he only says when he's tired. Like an 'I love you' of some kind.

Sometimes after a long patrol he doesn't really have to speak and will just reach his arms out and Bruce will pick him up to carry him to bed. If Damian's not already asleep by the time they get there, he'll stroke his hair and trace a finger down from his brow line to the tip of his nose. He's done this with all of his children.

Regularly reads bedtime stories to his pets.

Has nightmares quite often and so was hesitant to have sleepovers with Jon at first because he didn't want to be vulnerable or for Jon to see him overwhelmed and emotional if he had one. Later into their friendship he actually speaks to Jon about it and they finally have a sleepover, and then many more. He did have nightmares during some of them but Jon quickly learned how to deal with them and help Damian relax. In time, Damian starts to notice he has less nightmares when with Jon. They also happen less and less as he gets older. In their later teenage years, Jon has basically developed the skill to know when Damian is having a nightmare via his heartbeat, whether he's awake or a sleep. He'll be at the Manor within about two seconds to help Damian when they happen.

When craving cuddles, he either goes to Bruce, Dick, Jason, or, surprisingly, Steph. She's just very soft and huggable.

Has crawled into Tim's lap randomly before when Tim was at his desk. It happened after they actually started considering each other as brother's and stopped fighting as much. He didn't say anything or give a warning, just curled into him and silently played on the Nintendo Switch he brought with him. Tim was slightly taken aback at first but then just readjusted to get more comfortable and leaned back. He changed to only using one hand for his computer, and used his other to stroke Damian's back idly. It made him smile though, glad that their relationship had developed, even if they still bicker sometimes. It was moments like this that made him understand why Jay and Dick enjoy being big brothers. It was moments like this that made Tim realise people really do love him, and that there's always people worth staying for. That there's always a little brother who's gonna need you. He has a baby brother that needs him, and other siblings and a dad and granddad and friends that all need him. That would miss him. It's moments like this that makes Tim realise he doesn't think he has it in him to ever take that away from them.

Damian eventually refers to Alfred as Grandfather. Gets him and Bruce both cards and thoughtful gifts on Father's Day. Also leaves flowers on Thomas' grave. Will do the same for Martha on Mother's Day.

Bruce will check up on him (And the others) when it's Mother's Day. He tries to plan family trips/day outs for it, but will leave time to sit in his office in the morning just in case Talia calls and requests to spend time with Damian. She hasn't yet.

On holidays like Mother's Day and Talia's birthday, Damian will leave a gift by his window and then stay out of his room for a few hours. When he comes back, they're always gone. There's always a note, though, with a chocolate kiss on the top. He accepts every kiss, and saves every note. For his own birthday, he'll walk into his room to find a present on his bed. For Christmas, now that he celebrates it, Damian will set a gift by the window and leave, only to come back later and see a different one than the one he left. Every time, there's no trace of anyone entering or exiting, but he'd recognise his mother's perfume anywhere. He'll sit by his window to open his presents in case she stays to watch. She always does. When it's Christmas, she'll wait with her gift for when Damian returns, so they can open them together.

Every so often, Damian writes a letter about how his life is going to Talia but never sends them. He keeps them in a box with a small hope that one day he'll finally be able to give them to her.

109 notes · View notes