#like genuinely what is it about tommy that turns people to mush. i feel like ive seen a dozen people elaborate on the hamster wheel thing

[eddiegettingshot]

feel like this has always been pretty clear but buck's hamster wheel isn't about the specific relationships he's in or who they're with, it's about his shitty self-worth that stops him from interrogating his own wants and needs and largely makes him a passive participant in his own life. the pattern of his romantic relationships is the most obvious symptom of this because his desperate pursuit of love is rooted in said shitty self-worth. him discovering something new about his identity or breaking from that in minor ways does not begin to approach the wounds caused by his parents' emotional neglect nor does it change the resulting self-soothing behavior patterns that all of his romantic partners have reinforced thus far, which allow him to avoid recognizing his own agency.

the reason why eddie comes up is because he is actually pretty much the only person in buck's life thus far who has actively and consistently disrupted buck's complacency with taking the backseat in his own life. the way he treats buck allows him room to heal himself. historically this has been difficult for buck when he's in his various hamster-wheel relationships because said relationships are, as i said, the result of a much deeper issue with his perception of himself and so they allow him to stay in the same cycles (we all heard bobby call him out).

if buck were in a vulnerable/confused/uncertain position where he didn't understand what it was that he wanted, and eddie made a move on him, and that kickstarted their relationship, this would literally still be the same exact hamster wheel!!!!!! because he'd still be going in with the same issues that have caused rifts in all of his other relationships, and he wouldn't have made any strides in tackling said issues! if someone's saying otherwise, they're wrong!!!!!

but it would be not only shitty but completely out of character for about 20 different reasons for eddie to do this. it doesn't have to be eddie; it could absolutely be another character who also insists on trusting buck to make decisions for himself, they'd just have to introduce someone new. eddie just currently happens to be narratively positioned in a way that it makes sense for buck to be able to do the work on himself that would allow him to take the reins for the first time literally ever with him. getting off the hamster wheel is not about eddie or about any other character... it's about buck, developing such that he can make particular choices in his interactions with other characters that actually help him grow. that growth could happen through eddie or it could not. it doesn't matter, just like his actual romantic partner doesn't matter while he's still on the hamster wheel.

buck is not real and he has no interiority so it's actually ok to admit that certain narratives attached to certain characters might assist in or hinder his growth. it's also ok that buck's self-discovery and his relationship with a man instead of a woman affected very little change in this stuff that isn't necessarily about his sexuality. none of buck's problems take away from the fact that he's bisexual. and the fact that buck knows he's bisexual still doesn't necessarily heal the majority of his problems. if you want to believe that tommy has taken him off the wheel, that's fine! but there's no need to misrepresent or reduce what's being said on the other side.

[farmerlarrry]

Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | chapter fourteen | chapter thirteen| read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

a/n: Short–er chapter than usual, but the last few larger chapters completely turned my brain into mush lol and needed a little bit of fluff to cleanse my palate. The last bit was heavily inspired by the song “Wondering Why” by The Red Clay Strays, so shout out to all the people on tiktok for saying this is the perfect song to slow dance to, ily! I hope you are all having a lovely start to December! Stay safe!! :)

word count: 5982

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Chapter Fifteen

Neither you nor Joel spoke of that night in the weeks that followed. Although left unspoken, what almost happened never left your thoughts. Every waking moment, whether you were with Joel or not, it consumed every part of you, oftentimes leaving you wondering if you’d ever get a chance like that again. You were sure it consumed Joel as well. He was still the same man as before, but something very subtly changed. The way he treats you and looks at you– something was different behind those complex eyes, something deep down. It was almost as if he’d gone soft on you, but was desperately trying to hide the fact, probably a way to try and protect himself. If that was the case, you understood why.  

There was a small part of you that felt embarrassed about that night, your feelings had been put on full display, something that you didn’t think Joel was aware of up until that point. His had been too, which made you wonder if he was embarrassed about it as well– if he regretted revealing that part of him–and perhaps that’s why nothing had been said by him. Every time that thought resurfaced, it nearly sent you into a panic.

You kept having to reassure yourself, knowing him, if he had regretted it, things would not have stayed so… normal between the two of you. Joel still stops by your place in the morning, the two of you sharing breakfast and coffee before heading out for patrol. If anything, the two of you began spending more time together. On the nights you aren’t at Charles’, you and Joel spend together. Tommy would sometimes join, but when Nessa found out about it all of a sudden she needed Tommy home more. 

Although you told yourself that you’d stop drinking, it was the one thing you and Joel often did together. Wake up, patrol, drink… you had a nearly permanent headache, but for you, it was a small price to pay. You were finally content with the life you’ve created, even happy at times. 

James had been avoiding you since that day too. You truly intended to talk to him, not that what you’d say would make things any better, but you at least owed that to him; an explanation. Of the many times you tried, he’d either leave as soon as you were within a 20-foot radius of him and the times you caught him off guard, he’d simply walk away without a word or look directed at you. You missed your chance to talk to James, missed the opportunity when it actually counted, and would come off as genuine.

You thought of maybe writing him a letter, leaving it on his doorstep or with Charles to pass it on to him– that way you’d know for certain he got it, whether he ended up reading it or ripping it to shreds; at least you would know that you tried. Ultimately, the thought seemed insincere and cringe, so you decided just to let things be. 

The remnants of your actions haunted you enough as it is. Between the dirty looks you received from Heather and Aimee, the cold shoulder treatment you received from Nessa, and Dottie constantly asking why you and James never come over together anymore– you felt like all that was punishment enough.

“Why don’t you and James ever come over together anymore,” Dottie often asked some variation of this question crossing her arms and furrowing her brows.

With Charles grimacing in the background, pretending as if he doesn’t hear, you’d return Dott’s curiosity with your own variation of answers– our schedules don’t line up anymore, he’s busy tonight, I was busy with… You wondered if she pressed James about it every time he came over, wondering what he said in response. 

Your actions followed you wherever you went, the only time you had real peace was when you were either alone at home, or when you were out on patrol with Joel with no one else around. The constant stares you received from the other guards around your age left you wondering who had been running their mouths and how much of it was actually the truth. 

Jackson reminded you much of the small town you were from, at least from what little you remember of it. The sense of a close-knit community, for the most part, you could rely on each other, but when it came to the gossip… Everyone took what they heard as fact and had no issues spreading it around.

–

The night after you and Charles spoke in the isolated corner of Jackson BBQ, you went over to his house for dinner as planned. A nervousness fisted your stomach, making it twist and turn with every hesitant step you took toward his house. You wondered if James would be there; if Charles had told him of your company that night– 

Unsurprisingly, James had not come. You weren’t quite sure if you were relieved by this or if some part of you had wished had shown up. 

After the excitement of your company had settled and Dottie and Henry went to sleep, you and Charles sat in his study like the two of you used to do. Most of the time spent had been in silence, but you knew Charles had something to say. His face clearly indicated he was biting his tongue, forcing himself to swallow whatever words that had been filling his mouth, remaining unspoken. 

“James is a good boy, you know,” He finally spoke, his words coming out calm but a feeling of heat behind them lingered after the room returned to silence. You let out a huff of air. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.” 

All you could do was nod; a nod with no meaning other than you didn’t want to leave what he said unacknowledged. What you really wanted to do at the moment was roll your eyes, and if it had been anyone other than Charles initiating this conversation, perhaps you would have. 

“And,” His voice shook as if he was unsure whether to continue, smacking his lips and taking a moment to ponder on his thoughts. You watched him carefully out of the corner of your eye, your body slumped in the firm sofa chair. You tapped your fingers along your thigh as you waited for him to continue. “Joel, he’s–”

At the sound of his name, you shot up from out of your chair before he could finish, beginning to take long strides toward the front door. Whatever he was going to say about Joel, you didn’t want to hear it. You endured the nasty comments from everyone too often, biting your tongue when all you wanted to do was shoot something nasty back at them. You wouldn’t hear it from Charles. 

As you opened the door, Charles came up from behind you, pushing his palm against the door causing it to slam shut. The sound vibrated through the house leaving Charles cringing and eyeing the children’s bedrooms. Although your hand remained on the doorknob, you hadn’t tried to open it again, standing still while your breathing became messy, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Joel’s a fine man too,” Charles’ voice was dark as he spoke, but he was quick to release the words. His statement slightly caught you off guard, forcing you to face him slowly. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye and instead settled on staring at his shoes. “A lot of people here don’t get him and that’s– it is what it is, but he's a good man. He cares and a lot of people don’t nowadays.” 

You felt as if you were stripped bare, your mind and soul naked and completely vulnerable. All you could do was stare at the ground, how the shadow of Charles’ shoes met the raw grain of the wood and the gaps between each plank leading to an abyss of darkness. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, your shoulders tensing up to the point of pain. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Your voice was small. Putting his arm on your shoulder, Charles guided you over to the couch. The two of you took a seat in unison. 

“James told me his… suspicious the day Joel came back, and then you were wearing Joel’s shirt at dinner– let me finish,” His voice was calm, soothing your panic. You tried to butt in, demanding to know whatever James told him, but Charles made you listen. “As I told you before, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I’ll offer you my thoughts, you can take them as they are.” 

Taking a moment to calm yourself, you nodded, urging him to continue. In, out, in… you guided yourself, the stuffy warm air barely doing anything to ease your breathing.

“Regardless of going about it the wrong way, you’re allowed to feel that way– you aren’t… you don’t belong to anyone,” He finally spoke, the reassurance running through you like a sip of cold water on a hot summer day. 

“I fucked up Charles,” You stated simply. “I should’ve– I should have actually talked to James, but Joel came back and– and–” You shook your head, coming to a loss for words, “I didn’t know if Joel would feel the same, and talking about it to anyone was just too much.  I– I don’t know. I thought I liked James, I really did, but when I saw Joel– and my heart, I just felt–”

The words rushed out of your mouth, you weren’t sure if any of it made sense. Charles nodded as he listened, though you weren’t sure he quite understood. You shrugged to signal you were out of words, left with nothing else to say as your breathing turned to shallow sharp inhales. Charles grabbed your hand, holding it in his, and ran soft strokes along your knuckles. You stared at your conjoined hands as he continued, it reminded you of your father, and how he used to calm you when you were in a panic. 

“Does Joel feel the same way?” Charles’ voice was monotonous when he asked. Forcing yourself to look up at him, you swallowed against the lump in your throat.

“Wha– what?” You narrowed your eyes at him, confused. Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest.

“You said you didn’t know if Joel would feel the same way,” he quickly responded, a hint of confusion gleaming in his eyes.

You brought in your bottom lip tugging on it continuously between your teeth as flashbacks from the previous night poured in. You hadn’t realized your wording, you should’ve been more careful. 

“I don’t know,” you quickly correct yourself. You weren’t entirely wrong, for all you knew last night was just… you let out a soft sigh at your own thoughts. “I don’t know if he does.”

A silence fell between the two of you and you became too aware of the soft ticking of the wall clock. Tick, tick, tick. It sounded loud in your ears, your eardrums seizing on each tick.

“Let me talk to James, okay?” he finally said. A weight instantly released from your tense shoulders, the lingering headache disappearing in an instant. Coward, a voice whispered to you, but you ignored it–at least tried to ignore it. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” A heat washed over your face, your body folding in on itself, “about Joel, that is.” 

–

On this particular night, after a long day’s journey to an abandoned ranch and back, you and Joel found yourselves at The Tipsy Bison, tucked in the corner taking in drink after drink and going back and forth between playing billiards and darts.

The bartender for the night apparently was not very happy with how rowdy the two of you became over who won and who lost as well as how riled up you made some of the other guests for the night, to which he sent over Nora– out of everyone, her? You rolled your eyes, knowing she would likely report this back to James– to tell you it was time to wrap things up and go elsewhere. 

“Yours or mine?” Joel asked without fully clarifying what he meant, he knew you would know what he was asking. You jogged the few feet that separated the two of you, nearly tripping over your own feet before slowing down as he pushed against the door with his back and held it open for you. 

You took a moment to think as you stumbled out onto the porch, your hand lightly finding his wrist to grab onto for a short moment to keep you steady. He waited for your answer, slowly taking a few steps down, his torso angled towards you. You were humming softly to yourself as you sort through your thoughts, which were a blur even to you given your state. 

“Probably yours, because–” you started to say but stopped yourself mid-sentence. Joel completely turned his body to face you, now slowly walking backward in front of you. His face twisted in confusion. “Actually, I know a place we can go to.”

Joel cocked his head waiting for you to reveal the location.

The abandoned building.

–

The entire walk you were hoping to whatever higher power there was that the others weren’t there. You didn’t see them at the bar so that didn’t leave many other places they could be. You knew that Drew and James were both due to go out for an overnight run sometime this week to Teton Valley, but that still left Heather, Aimee, and Nessa unaccounted for. They wouldn’t go out there, not without James or Drew, you kept telling yourself–reassuring yourself–of the fact that the three girls were a bit wary of how far away the building was from the main part of the community, regardless of the safety each guard ensured as a priority.

It wasn’t a quick walk by any means. You had to walk past the cemetery and greenhouses to where a field lay bare. In recent months, Maria has tasked some of the community members to turn half of it into more farmland and the other half left to expand the greenhouses, but the work efforts have been slow, especially with the urgent help with harvesting. 

Past the field where the trees stand dense, there is a pathway, easily missed if you don’t know what you’re looking for. That pathway leads to the building and about a hundred yards past the building was the fencing that kept Jackson contained.  

Although it was hidden away from the community and not used for anything in particular, many of the guards as well as Maria and Tommy knew about it. No one ever explicitly said not to go to it, but many of those who knew about it seem to forget about it which is how it became the go to hang out spot for you and the others. It offered a sense of secrecy with safety and was far enough from the main parts of Jackson where you never had to worry about being too loud. 

The darkness crawled at your skin and a feeling of being watched hovered around you which seemed to help you sober up. Joel was behind you, only a few feet separating you from him. Occasionally you’d peer over your shoulder, mainly to make sure he was still there, in case you needed him for some reason. You could tell, even in the darkness, he was a bit hesitant about following you. 

“Where’re we goin’?” Joel asked for the fifth time as you passed the cemetery, each time he asked his tone became less and less patient. Regardless of his tone, the sound of his voice sent a calming effect to run its course through your body, settling your churning insides. 

“You don’t like surprises huh?” A faint smile formed as the breathy words came out of your mouth. It amused you to see him like this; fidgety like he had ants in his pants.

“No, not–” His voice conveyed to you that he was very clearly annoyed. You let out an overdramatic sigh which immediately shut him up. 

“You’re no fun,” You turned your body to look at him, narrowing your eyes at him as you stopped walking. He only stopped when there was about a foot separating the two of you. 

“Fun enough for you to spend your nights with me ‘parently,” he spat back almost immediately, a bit of humor and amusement lingering in his tone. As much as you wanted to fire back at him, you ignored his comment and started to slowly continue down the field. You could almost make out the details of the trees even in the darkness, meaning you were almost there. 

“Remember how I told you I would hang out with Nessa and her friends?” he nodded, falling into step right next to you. You paused before continuing, “I’m taking you to where we used to go.”

“And if they’re there?” The words rushed out of his mouth. The thought made a sense of anxiety fill your chest. 

“I think Drew and James are gone, but if the other three are there, then… we’ll find somewhere else to go.” You tried to steady your voice as you spoke. The thought of them seeing the two of you together, especially seeing you and Joel go to a place that’s so… secluded, did not settle well in your gut. 

When Joel didn’t answer, you looked up at his face. His lips were set in a thin, tight line and his eyes were hardened, locked on the gravel crunching beneath his boots with each heavy step. You pinned your eyebrows together, is he anxious? Anxious that they will be there, that they’ll see us, or anxious that it will just be us? 

You took one step to the side closer to him and gently knocked your elbow against Joel’s arm, catching his attention. His eyes widened as if he had been lost in some sort of mind-consuming thought.

“Okay?” You asked, desperate for some sort of reassurance that he was okay and this was okay.

He gave you a single nod, his body remaining tense. 

–

The lights weren’t on when you arrived at the crumbling building, a shadow of blackness surrounded it. Regardless of the fact, you still slowly peeked your head inside to make sure no one had been in there before trying the switch to illuminate the dark room. Even though they didn’t come on, you still flipped the switch a few more times, desperately hoping you wouldn’t have to go in blind. The building was relatively safe, but the dark still gave you the chills–the thought of something hiding, waiting to grab you– the fear still haunted you. 

You let out a loud sigh.

“The generator is a bit finicky,” you said plainly. The many memories of Drew kicking at it and cursing under his breath immediately resurfaced.

“Sure it’s safe?” he asked as he poked his head past the threshold of the door. Joel gently grabbed onto your bicep as he continued to survey the vast darkness of the building. His concern provoked a small breathy laugh from you. 

“Let’s hope,” you responded, half serious. Joel let out a throaty hum, not coming off as too enthusiastic. 

Joel followed closely behind you as you entered. 

–

You finally managed to get the generator that James somehow managed to get many moons ago to turn on and went around to the various outlets to plug in the string lights. Joel slowly walked around the perimeter of the room with his hands clasped behind his back, running his eyes along the walls filled with posters and pictures the gang had once put up, looking at the furniture all of you managed to take from the donation center somehow unnoticed or from the few homes that remained unoccupied. Though you were never on the best terms with most of them, a lot of memories had been created in this very room–times of peace and ease. Showing him this place must have felt almost as vulnerable as it must have felt for him showing you his spot. An ache began to develop deep in your chest. You let out a deep sigh, letting the ache escape into the air.

His eyes lingered for a good while on a section of the wall that had been solely dedicated to the Polaroid pictures that had been taken on the nights spent here. Bringing his fingers up to one that was stuck at an angle beneath another picture, he pulled it loose. From your quick glance across the room, you didn’t have to be next to him to know that it was the picture of you and James. 

James had both of his hands covering your eyes, a wide grin spread across his face. You had your hands wrapped around his wrists, your knuckles white as you tried to tear them away from your face. The longer you thought about it, you could have sworn you could hear yours and James’ overlapping giggles, Nessa yelling out ‘cheese’ before pressing down the shutter button. The ache formed once again, this time spreading from your chest to the pit of your stomach.

Without saying anything, barely provoking any sort of reaction from him, Joel turned and set it down on one of the side tables. As the picture left the tips of his fingers, his attention was immediately shifted elsewhere. Joel picked up one of the records from the stack piled on one of the small side tables, taking a seat on the worn and faded brown couch.

The distraction allowed you to swiftly sweep past the table, picking up the photo and slipping it into your back pocket to be discarded eventually. 

You came up to Joel’s side. Using the back of the wooden chair next to him to keep you stable, you bent over the side of the couch to the corner where the last string of light’s plug hung free from the outlet. The heat of his body clung to the back of your cold limbs and you leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. Joel cleared his throat awkwardly, the sound startling you and causing you to fumble the plug, making it fall behind the couch. 

‘Sorry,” your voice was muffled as you reached your hand into the darkness, feeling around for the plug. A heat began to burn in your cheeks, spreading down to your chest, as you realized why Joel cleared his throat. You practically pinned him against the edge of the couch with your ass in his face.

You began to move faster, your fingers becoming tangled with the cord as you pushed it firmly into the plug. A small wheeze came from him as you straightened yourself, retreating a step back. 

“Sorry,” The words were now barely above a whisper. You raised your eyebrows, widening your eyes at him as you try to remain as neutral as possible. His eyebrows twitched as he finally brought himself to look up at you. You could have sworn his eyes glazed over the entirety of your body before eventually meeting your eyes. 

“Where’d you get these?” His voice was tight, guilty sounding as he changed the subject.

“Drew gets them when he goes into the cities outside of Jackson,” you responded, taking one step closer towards Joel, peering around his arm in the narrow space at the record he had been holding onto. “Most of them aren’t very good, but he picks up what he can find– I suppose it’s better than nothing.” 

He nodded very subtly, pinning his brows together as he flipped the record over, looking at the songs listed on the backside.

“And the player?” He questioned further. Joel must have heard the hitch in your breath with the look he gave you in return to which you turned on your heel, heading toward the couch sitting opposite from where Joel was.

“It was James’ father’s at one point,” You responded dryly, slightly cringing as you remembered how serious James was the night he brought it, making sure everyone– especially Drew– knew if it broke, there would be serious consequences. Joel said nothing in response, just going back to sifting through the various records.

The vibe completely changed from the time you left the bar to now–an odd sense of intimacy lingered heavily in the room. You needed a drink, just one to shake off this sudden awareness. 

Your eyes swept the room, landing on the old dented filing cabinet tucked next to the door. It was where the group kept all the alcohol each of you had been able to scrounge up as well as the collection of unmatching glasses that sat upon a tea cloth on the top. The filing cabinet was simply for safekeeping, you were desperately hoping that it hadn’t been emptied since the last time you were there. 

The broken handle was cold on your fingertips as you pulled on it. The drawer did not budge and you rolled your eyes, fully taking a seat on the ground so the top drawer was now eye level. You curse softly under your breath. Of course one of them would keep it locked up– probably Drew… greedy bastard, you thought.

You never noticed anyone locking it before, but then again, you had never paid that close attention–you didn’t need to. Running your fingers over the metal latches and then over the face of the lock, you pinned your eyebrows together. You’ve worked with this kind of lock many times before when you were still out on your own. They weren’t complicated locks, low security if anything due to them having a universal one-pronged key amongst this type.

Without any further thought, you pulled the small knife out of your pocket and flipped it open, ramming the tip into the keyhole. If you could just get it at the correct angle, it should just pop open. You didn’t care if the others knew someone had been in here. 

With a bit of jiggling, the shackle popped loose causing the corners of your lips to twitch slightly into a smile. Your eyes went wide as you opened the drawer–there was just as much, if not more than the last time you saw it. 

Rising back onto your feet, you look over your shoulder back at Joel who was still fully occupied by the record collection. His face was stuck in a deep sense of concentration.

Picking a bottle at random, you turned to face Joel shaking the bottle. The sound of the liquid sloshing against the sides and lapping over itself seemed to catch his attention as he snapped his head up, looking in your direction through his brows. 

“Want some?” you offered when he didn’t say anything, jutting the bottle out toward him. He narrowed his eyes, trying to look at the label– contemplating– before shaking his head and returning his attention back to the records. You simply shrugged before turning back around, flipping over one of the various drinking glasses on the top of the cabinet, and began to pour a generous amount. 

You kicked your feet at the concrete ground, dust and dirt dancing through the air, as you slowly made your way over to the other couch that sat across from the one Joel was currently settled on. Laying the entire length of your body sideways on the couch and resting your head on the padded armrest, you closed your eyes– just for a moment, you told yourself– holding your drink on your stomach with one hand and the other playing with the edge of one of the cushions where the stuffing began to leak out. 

When you opened your eyes, Joel was leaning over, placing one of the many records onto the platter of the player. Gently he let the needle fall onto the edge and pressed the button to turn it on. Music softly filled the room, the sound emitting from the speakers sounded muffled and scratchy, yet comforting and nostalgic. 

As Joel returned to his spot, leaning into the back cushion and widening his grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, you caught his attention. Holding his gaze, you sat upright, downing the rest of your drink and resting the glass on the ground. 

“What?” He asked as you flashed him a toothy smile, your lips spreading thinly across your face as the corners reached your eyes and the second wave of alcohol hit your bloodstream.

–

The music began to flow through your veins, your body swaying without any coherent thought running through your mind. Spreading your arms out at your sides, you began to spin slowly and your body began to feel weightless; your surroundings and Joel blurring together with each turn. The air running over your skin made goosebumps dance up your arms and you let out a small giggle. You felt so free… so loose… so… happy. You felt like the person you had once been a long, long time ago.

Slowing your spin to a stop, you quickly became dizzy as you came to your senses, your brain struggling to comprehend that you were no longer going in circles. With the alcohol in your system, it made your body’s reaction twice as clumsy. Joel was watching you carefully, a small smile on his face, and appeared to be very amused by you. You began to tumble to the side, the opposite direction of any sort of furniture to stabilize yourself, as your feet tangled together. Joel lunged from his sitting position for you, looping one hand around your back, the other grasping onto your bicep.

“Woah,” The noise came out of you in a breathy whisper as the falling sensation subsided. Joel’s eyes were soft in the dim lighting of the room, the light reflecting off of his dark and ever-tired eyes. 

As he helped you back up to the stability of your feet, he kept hold of your shoulders. You could feel his fingers gently but firmly pressing into your skin making your heart skip a few beats. Through your still semi-blurred vision, you make eye contact with Joel, who is steadily holding onto your gaze. His face, complex as usual, leaves you completely in the dark about what might be running through his mind. The look in his eyes took you back to that night. 

You softly ran your hands up along his arm until you reached his biceps, hesitating to curl your fingers around them. Dropping your gaze from his, you run your fingers along his worn flannel, the fabric is soft under the tips. All you can focus on at the moment is the feeling of the fabric between your fingers and the warmth that radiates from underneath. Joel has yet to move a muscle since you returned his gesture, though you were almost positive you could hear the beating of his heart– deep and wild.

Slowly moving your eyes along his chest to the skin peaking out where the top few buttons were undone–his chest hair poking through– up along his neck and into his eyes. Something changed from a few moments prior, from early this evening. Your breath hitches as his throat bobs and his tongue darts between his lips.

As you began to part your lips, trying to find any words to say, Joel very slowly ran one of his hands up your back, finding a home at the base of your neck where skin meets hair. Very softly he ran his thumb over your hairline, over and over. He was looking at you, but it felt like his gaze had been deeper– deeper than whatever he saw on the surface. 

“I haven’t heard this song in a very long time,” His voice was quiet but hoarse, rattling low. You had to force yourself to swallow, your mouth and throat growing drier by the second.

Before you could muster up a response– even a reaction– Joel gently pulled your head into his chest. You didn’t protest, you would let him do whatever he wanted to you at this moment. His hand lingered at the base of your neck with your ear flush against his chest. Still, he softly ran his finger along your hairline causing a chill to make its way down your spine. Your heart felt as if it were beating outside of your chest and you noticed how deeply and fast Joel’s was beating in unison.

Joel took the lead as the two of you began to sway your bodies in unison, simply shifting your weight between each foot, very slowly turning in a circle. With your arms loosely wrapped around his torso, you began to run the fabric between your index finger and thumb again. This is the moment you’ve been craving since you were left on your own at the beginning of the outbreak– a sense of safety, a sense of companionship, anything other than the loneliness that rotted inside your heart for far too long– always too afraid to admit it, too afraid to get close to anyone for the next day is never promised. Sure, you caved into the intimacy of physical touch, but emotionally… you’ve never let yourself cave into that. But Joel… Joel was different. This was different. 

The longer the music went on, transitioning from one song to another, a calmness settled between the two of you, your bodies melting into one another becoming one. You hadn’t dared to move your head, afraid that he’d let go of you entirely if you moved even just a bit; afraid that this moment would end sooner than you desired.

As the record player sputtered to a stop, the music abruptly leaving the room empty and silent, you and Joel remained together, swaying back and forth. Joel’s heartbeat returned to a steady, comforting beat. He flattened his palms against your back as a way to tell you, don’t let go– not yet. So you didn't, you would remain in his arms until he was ready to let go. 

Without creating any distance between your bodies, you shift your head to look up at him, your chin firmly pressed against the bare part of his chest. He angled his head just right so he could look down at you. For a moment all you and Joel could do is stare at each other, as if the two of you haven’t stolen enough glances in the time you’ve known each other. Joel’s bottom lip was full of color and slightly swollen as if he had been chewing on it. You blinked a few times to bring yourself to the present moment.

“I missed you,” The words flowed out of you before you could think of what the consequences of admitting that would be. In the moment it felt right, you felt safe enough to admit that to him and you wanted him to know.

His face was set in stone, but a glimmer of something appeared in his eye and his shoulders appeared to relax as he slowly exhaled. It seemed like he didn't know what to say back. You didn’t care if he felt the same way if he missed you or even cared for you the way you do for him. All that mattered was that he knew someone had missed him, that his absence here mattered to you.

“You’re the only person who makes me feel sane,” You followed up in a whisper, returning the side of your face to his chest and tightening your arms around him. His heart rate picked up once again– deep and wild. 

read chapter sixteen here!

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

[daresplaining]

Sorry if this has been asked before, but are there any panels/comics that reflect/point to Matt's taste in music? I feel like there's maybe one or two, but I don't remember what they'd be... And if you find any, or don't, do you also have any personal headcanons regarding the matter? What do you think he likes listening to? If you're up to answering any of this, that is. I know it's maybe an odd question. Thank you so much if you're able to, and even if you aren't! I love your blog and have an awesome day :D

    Hi! It's not an odd question at all, and it's something I really enjoy thinking about and haven't discussed in a while. Matt's taste in music is an aspect of his character that I'd love to see explored more, since it is compelling from both a character/personality angle and a sensory one (much like his food preferences, another woefully under-explored topic). However, it has been touched upon. Notably, we have evidence from multiple runs that Matt is a jazz fan.

[ID: Panels showing Matt Murdock and Glori O’Breen walking arm-in-arm through Chinatown during the day. Matt is in a blue suit and tie, Glori is in a long green coat.]

Glori: "I won't mention a word of it when I take you to a certain pub where they're playin' the real Irish music Wednesday night."

Matt: "If that's an invitation...thanks, but sorry. Not tonight. But tomorrow night I'll take you to a jazz club in the Village. Dave Samuels is performing--"

Glori: "Ah, Matthew, an' aren't we star-crossed! For 'tis I who're busy then!"

Matt: "Okay. I won't feel rejected if you won't."

Daredevil vol. 1 #216 by Denny O'Neil, David Mazzucchelli, Steve Mellor, and Joe Rosen

[ID: A panel of Matt standing in front of a record player in his darkened apartment, pulling a Chet Baker record out of its sleeve.]

Daredevil vol. 3 #5 by Mark Waid, Marcos Martín, Javier Rodriguez, and Joe Caramagna

    He and Maya Lopez also go to a jazz club during their day-long first date in Daredevil vol. 2 #11. I love that this is such a consistent detail (having examples from three different volumes is pretty unusual for such a minor piece of trivia), and it makes a lot of sense. The complexities of jazz would likely appeal to him on an intellectual level and, of course, a sensory one.

    There is a question I've always had about Matt's food preferences: Would he like foods with complex flavors, because he would be able to appreciate the nuances, or would he find them overwhelming and prefer bland foods? And I feel like this same question can be applied to his taste in music: For someone who can perceive beyond the range of normal human hearing, would the sub-sonics and harmonics of complex chords turn them into discordant mush for Matt? Or would they just sound extra cool to him, making simpler, more straightforward music styles boring? I don't have an answer, obviously, but it's a thought exercise that I enjoy because it's always fun to try to get into Matt's head. With this many creative teams implying the latter, I'm happy to accept it, and I love the idea of Matt being a jazz fan. Jazz is bold and spontaneous, just like him.

    Another of my favorite music preference details is this funny moment from the DD/Black Widow era, in which Matt tells some members of San Francisco high society that he's a fan of The Who (I think that he, like Natasha, is having fun at the expense of their snootiness here, but I'm sure he does genuinely like The Who. He also seems to like the Police):

[ID: Panels showing Matt Murdock and Natasha Romanov in a room full of fancily-dressed people. Matt is in a black suit and tie, Natasha is dressed all in blue with big yellow ruffles down the front of her shirt. She is talking with a group of women and Matt is talking with a group of men.]

Men: "...So we left the yacht for the opera! Great stuff, opera! Do you like it, Matt-boy? Yes, what is your favorite?"

Matt: "My fav--? Oh! Uh, 'Tommy,' I guess...by The Who. It's...a rock opera. Very, eh, avant-garde."

Man: "Humph. Hippie music, if you ask me!"

Woman: "So you live alone-- with two men?"

Natasha: "On separate floors, deary. Does that scandalize you-- or just make you jealous?"

Daredevil and the Black Widow #104 by Steve Gerber, Don Heck, Sal Trapani, C. Jetter, and P. Goldberg

As far as dislikes go, Matt doesn't seem to like disco...though Foggy does.

[ID: A panel showing Matt and Foggy standing together. Behind them is a darkened area and the silhouettes of a crowd of dancing people. Foggy is in a brown collared shirt and green pants. Matt is minus his dark glasses, and is wearing a very stylish bright yellow jacket.] 

Matt (caption): "We step inside and it's like walking into an explosion of sound! The music! So much bass-- throwing my senses out of whack-- And worst of all-- it's disco night."

Foggy (singing): "...I'm here to do... whatever I can... be it early mornin'..."

Matt: "Foggy."

Foggy: "Sorry."

Daredevil vol. 1 #374 by Joe Kelly, Jonathan Barron, Ariel Olivetti, Pier Britto, and Ed Lazarelli

    This may be a topic for a whole other post, but I also wanted to say a little about Matt making his own music, because we have examples of that as well.

[ID: A panel with a background of yellowed, stained sheet music. Over top of this is a smaller panel of a hand on piano keys, and swirling past this is a musical staff filled with cartoon images from Matt’s past: boxing gloves, his father, young Matt being bullied, and barrels of toxic waste.]

Matt (caption): "The truth is I hardly read a note of sheet music. I always play by ear. For me, music is the closest thing to seeing. I don't mean knowing where you're going, I mean seeing, the way you'd look at a painting. Every chord has color-- the way memory has a scent. C major smells like an old pair of boxing gloves. D major and D minor are left and right jabs. They are the color of my father's face when he would get mad. E major is coppery-- the aftertaste of a bloody lip."

Daredevil vol. 2 #9 by David Mack, Joe Quesada, Jimmy Palmiotti, and Richard Isanove

    There are a lot of great music details in this story arc, and this scene is one of my favorites because it explores the idea that the experience of listening to/playing music is intensely personal for Matt. You don't need super-hearing to associate specific chords with different emotions-- everyone does that-- but I love how this scene builds on that by drawing connections to Matt's other sense memories and the emotions attached to them. It suggests a visceral, intense experience of music that extends beyond just normal enjoyment. Matt is transported into his past when he plays the piano. (If you take this scene literally, it also could suggest that Matt has some degree of synesthesia, which is also fascinating).

[ID: Panels showing Matt and Foggy in a subway station. Foggy is wearing an olive-green business suit, Matt is wearing a red shirt and blue pants. He hands his white cane to Foggy while holding out some money to an old man who was playing the violin. Several bystanders are looking on.]

Matt: "Sounds like one hell of an instrument. Is it for rent?"

Violinist: "For that kinda money, I'll lend you my feet."

Foggy: "Can you play?"

[ID: Matt puts the violin under his chin and rests the bow on the strings.]

Matt: "Dunno. Let's find out."

Daredevil vol. 3 #1 by Mark Waid, Marcos Martín, Muntsa Vicente, and Joe Caramagna

    This scene is wild and I love it. It's quite long, so I didn't want to stick the whole thing in here, but if anyone hasn't read the issue (What are you doing?! Read it! Now! Go! I'll wait), Matt teaches himself to play the violin within a matter of minutes. The mini-story that this excerpt is from features Matt showing off his hypersenses as he and Foggy travel around Manhattan. Its practical purpose is to introduce new readers to Matt's power-set; in-universe, Matt is doing this to prolong the trip and distract himself, because the destination is the cemetery where his father is buried. I don't think Matt makes a regular habit of playing every instrument he sees-- he's clearly stalling for time here. But he does seem to enjoy it! In any case, I wanted to point this out because it tells us some pretty major things about Matt's abilities. To be clear: this is superhuman. No one learns to play an instrument with any amount of skill this quickly. If they were learning the violin and had extensive viola experience, maybe. (I don't think Matt has viola experience. At least, not 616 Matt.) I'm also going to say that this requires a bit of suspension of disbelief, just like Matt swinging around Spider-Man-style without super-strength does.

    With that said, here's what we know: stringed instruments require some coordination. One hand is doing one thing, the other is doing another. Matt is extremely coordinated-- not a problem. The tuning on stringed instruments is delicate. Your fingers need to land in exactly the right spot on the strings, with the right kind of pressure. There's also bow pressure and placement to take into account: putting just enough force and motion on the bow to get the right tone, and shifting the angle just enough to switch cleanly between strings (this is extra tricky on a violin, where the strings are very close together). This is a neat instance in which Matt would be applying both his enhanced hearing and sensitive touch to the situation. Armed with his super-sensitive fingers and proprioception, he is apparently able to figure out the pressure and bow placement issues. Tuning, though? This is solid evidence of Matt having excellent relative pitch. (Personally, I like to think he has perfect pitch as well, though I don't have direct evidence for it.) If anyone is unfamiliar with the distinction, perfect pitch is being able to sing a specific note (say, A#) without any reference point. Relative pitch is hearing A# and then being able to find other notes based on an understanding of the intervals between them. Matt's super-fast violin mastery suggests that he could play a note and then figure out where his other fingers needed to go in order to play the other notes he wanted. If you're playing an instrument you're not used to, especially a stringed instrument, in which the tuning is so tricky, it takes a while to get the hang of this at all, never mind making it sound good. But Matt, hypersensory badass that he is, just casually does it on a subway platform while waiting for the train.

[ID: The same scene. Matt finishes playing with a flourish, with the notes shown swirling around his head, as a train pulls into the station. The bystanders clap. Foggy looks stunned.]

    ...In any case, my point is that according to this scene, Matt's powers have rendered him superhumanly musical, and I love it. Join a jazz band, Matt.

[broadwaycantdie]

Eid! - Newsies (Pride) Month . Day 4

( tommy boy ) + ( religion )

a/n: i am not muslim! i do not celebrate eid! however, inclusivity and diversity is very important to show throughout stories so i had @newnewsieprice help me with this story because she is muslim and does celebrate eid! she also told me that everyone celebrates differently so this is just based off her experiences and the bare minimum i know :)

warning: besides the fact that i only partially know what i’m talking about ? none

background: Tommy Boy is a Macedonian Muslim Baby Boy™. He is technically the only Muslim newsie in his chosen family. Tommy Boy’s blood family was deported and sent back to Macedonia. Since he was the only family member born in the states, he was left alone. A lot of families were separated during the ICE raids—including some of the other newsie’s—so they all work to bring everyone together in their own little family.

( all macedonian is according to google translate and the translation will be in parentheses, sorry if anything is wrong, i don’t speak macedonian! )

——————————————————————————

“Те сакам исто така, мама. Ми недостигаш. Тоа нема да биде исто без сите вас овде. Ветувам дека ќе се јавам повторно по молитвата. Eid Mubarak.”

(I love you too, mama. I miss you. It won’t be the same without you all here. I promise to call again after prayer. Eid Mubarak.)

Tommy Boy hung up the phone and gently pressed his forehead on the wall, looking down with his eyes closed. He let out a breath.

“It’s hard without them here, isn’t it?”

Tommy Boy jumped, not knowing someone else was in the room. It was very early morning, he didn’t expect anyone to be awake.

He didn’t say anything. He just turned to see who was there.

It was Elmer. He was standing in the open doorway with a sense of understanding on his face. A change of pace from his often confused expression.

Tommy Boy walked over to him, wrapping him in a hug without saying a word.

Elmer knew what it was like. His parents and older siblings were taken back to Poland over a year ago.

He sticks to the newsies because they’re all he has.

Elmer’s family obviously wasn’t the only one who got taken away but his was the first. He has had time to heal, though it still hurts.

Tommy Boy’s parents were taken just weeks ago. He needs more time to accept and learn to move forward. And no one knows that feeling better than Elmer. He went from a blood family of 11 to 1. It was hard.

Elmer knew what a sacred and joyous time this has always been to him, year after year. He use to go to his parents and come back telling stories of all the gossip and events happening back in Macedonia. Stories of his parents saying how they wish they could visit their home again; but they never imagined they would get stuck there, leaving their only son behind.

Elmer was prepared to hold Tommy Boy for as long as he needed. He knew Tommy Boy wasn’t one for showing emotions, so he needed to undertand that he could be vulnerable and that was okay.

Tommy Boy pulled away gently. Tears soaked his face and his eyes were red. He hadn’t cried like that since his parents left. He never allowed himself.

He looked at Elmer’s shirt, now housing a wet spot from his eyes.

“Sorry about that”, Tommy Boy said, lightly laughing through tears and choked breaths.

“It’s okay, T. It’ll dry”, Elmer replied, smiling.

They stood there for a bit. Elmer gently rubbed Tommy Boy’s back while he let out the last of his tears and caught his breath. He just needed to get it out.

“What are you gonna do this year?” Elmer asked softly.

“I don’t know. I’m gonna pray. Pray a lot. I might go for a walk. Be by myself for a few hours. But after that I don’t know”, Tommy Boy replied in a deep breath.

“Why don’t you go get ready. Take some time to yourself beforehand. We’ll all be here with you after, okay?”

Tommy Boy nodded his head and went off to the washroom. No one else was awake so he really got to relax and calm down before he went off to the mosque.

In that time, Elmer devised a plan. He was going to do everything he could to give Tommy Boy a good Eid. Nothing would make him feel as good as he did with his parents, but he owed it to him to try.

As soon as Tommy Boy walked out the door Elmer yelled throughout the lodging house.

“Family meeting right now! Everyone come here, please!”

At least he was polite about his early morning aggressive screaming.

Ignoring the moans and groans of sleepy teenagers, Elmer actually got everyone into the main room.

He explained his plan, what he knew of the holiday, and Tommy Boy’s schedule for the day.

“Henry, how long does it take to make an entire feast fit for a celebration?”

“Um? Like all day if I’m lucky?”

“Well we’ve got about 5 hours or so, so you might wanna start now.”

“What?! Elmer that’s impossible!”

“Nothing’s impossible if you put your heart to it...and when you have friends to help...that’s why I made a chart of everyone’s responsibilities for the day.”

More groans filled the room but Elmer ignored them.

He went down the list, giving everyone their job.

Henry, Kenny, Smalls, Crutchie, Buttons, Romeo, Sniper, Specs, Jojo, Kid Blink, and Ike would all be working on food. Like Henry said, it would take all day if he did it himself so Elmer needed as many people as possible to get it all done.

However, not everyone could be trusted cooking.

Albert, Finch, Jack, Mike, Mush, and Race were in charge of getting the house ready.

That included cleaning, setting the table, getting conversation spaces ready, helping Henry if he needed anything and every other little thing Elmer needed.

Specifically, Finch was put on lookout, making sure Tommy Boy wasn’t on his way home. And if he was, the rest of the house would be warned and a distraction would be made.

While the rest of the family worked, Tommy Boy was enjoying his time. He never was one to like a lot of energy and chaos.

While at the mosque he prayed for his family. He prayed they were safe and happy even if he couldn’t be there with him. He prayed for the other first-generations to not have to go through what he did. He prayed that Race would be smart enough to not get in big enough trouble that would get him sent back to Italy. He prayed that one day he would be reunited with his family for good. He prayed he would at least be able to afford to visit until that day came. He prayed for a lot of things. That’s all he could think to do. So he did.

After he left the mosque, he took a walk. He walked around the city watching people live their lives. People not even knowing it was a holiday. People just enjoying their time together. It was nice to see.

Back at the lodging house, they ran into a bit of a problem. No one knew how to make baklava.

“Do we really need it?” Henry asked, already in the midst of making a million other things.

“Yes! It’s a staple of literally any holiday ever!” Elmer said back.

“Well you better bring someone who knows how to make it cause it ain’t me.”

Elmer thought for a minute then picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Hello?”

“Davey! It’s Elmer, we have an emergency.”

“What kind? The kind where I have to sew someone’s arm back on or the kind where you guys are out of m&m’s?”

“The kind where we don’t know how to make baklava and we were hoping you did.”

“I don’t, but my mother does. Why?”

“We need some, like today.”

“Today?! Elmer baklava takes at least two days to make!”

“Fuck. Uh. Do you know where we can get some?”

“Well, lucky for you it’s the beginning of the month.”

“Meaning...?”

“Meaning my mom makes baklava the first weekend of every month!”

“Can you bring it? Please? Like asap!”

“Yeah, I’ll be over soon.”

Since that was taken care of, Elmer got back to getting all the last details finished.

Meanwhile, Tommy Boy decided to participate in one of his favorite parts of Eid, giving to the poor.

He knows what it’s like to not have anything, so giving back to those with even less warms his heart. He remembers being on the other end and watching some of his newsie brothers there too. It’s been tough, but giving back is his way of seeing that he made it through.

He gave what he could in any form. Buying meals, volunteering, or just giving straight up money.

After another hour or so of him being out, Tommy Boy decided it was time to head home. He promised his mother he’d call again and he didn’t want it to get too late.

Davey made it to the lodging house just minutes before Tommy Boy did, finishing the table setting.

The boys somehow got everything done in time.

The table was set with all the food they could make. Foods like Tajine, Tufahije, Bolani, Pite, Spice Cookies, and—of course—Baklava. Along with other little things like dates and tiny snacks.

Finch yelled out that Tommy Boy was walking up. They all scrambled around and stood in front of the table, hiding what was behind it.

Tommy Boy walked in the same way he always does, but this time, noticed the odd behavior of the boys.

“Hey guys?” Tommy Boy confusingly asked.

“Hey, T! How was going to the mosque?” Elmer asked, genuinely curious.

“It was good! Uh...what is everyone doing?”

“Well...this is your first Eid without your usual traditions and celebrations. So...”

The boys slowly moved away from the table, revealing the food.

“...we wanted to make a new one!”

Tommy Boy’s jaw dropped.

“You—how did you? You—you did this? All of this? F-for me?”

“Of course! T, we are family, and after seeing you this morning I couldn’t have you just being alone. I can’t change what happened, but I can do everything in my power to make what you have here, the best.”

He felt the tears fill up his eyes again but quickly wiped them away.

Tommy Boy isn’t much of a talker, but that reaction said more than words ever could.

They all sat down in their respective seats and began eating the food. They all talked and gossiped and enjoyed each other’s company.

After they ate more food than probably healthy, they moved over to the couches while Henry brought out tea and cups.

Tommy Boy used this time to leave the room and call his mother back, as he promised he would.

He waited a bit longer than he should have, so his mother didn’t pick up. However, he did leave her a message.

“Здраво, мама. Се извинувам што не се јавив порано, толку многу се случи денес. Моите пријатели го донесоа Еид и ја направија речиси иста како она што го користиме за да го направиме, иако со својот мал пресврт сепак. Тие ја направија мојата омилена храна и навистина ме натераа да се чувствувам добредојдена. Не знам што направив за да ги заслужам сите, навистина. Тоа беше целата идеја на Елмер, ми рече дека тоа е групен напор, но знам дека го планирал. Неговото семејство беше однесено пред една година, па ми помагаше. Многу ми недостасуваш. Се надевам дека си имал добар Еид. Еден ден повторно ќе го прославиме заедно. Се надевам наскоро. Океј, те сакам, мама. Кажете им на сите што ги сакам. Повикај ме кога ќе можеш. Eid Mubarak.”

(Hello, mama. I apologize for not calling earlier, so much happened today. My friends brought Eid to me and made it almost the exact same as what we use to do, with their own little twist though. They made my favorite foods and really made me feel welcome. I don’t know what I did to deserve them all, really. It was all Elmer’s idea, he told me it was a group effort, but I know he planned it. His family was taken a year ago, so he’s been helping me out. I miss you all a lot. I hope you had a good Eid. One day we’ll celebrate it together again. Hopefully soon. Okay, I love you, mama. Tell everyone I love them. Call me when you can. Eid Mubarak.)

[littlecrookedheart]

Fluffy Alphabet

Pairing : Tom x Clove

Word Count :

Rating : Fluff! A teensy bit of suggestion, nothing more.

Template courtesy of @pixelburied

♡

A – Anger (What was their first fight about? Any big or recurring arguments?)

Their first big fight, the one that really matters, stemmed from miscommunication. Clove was feeling insecure, which snowballed into an exchange of cruel words on both of their parts. Thankfully, they worked through and made up. You can read the whole thing here.

B – Best (What would they say is the other’s best trait?)

Tom's absolute favorite thing about Clove is that, despite her back story, she is soft. This just so happens to be her favorite thing about him, too.

They are able to fight anything that stands in their way and do so almost fearlessly, but when it comes to their moments - the moments in between and after, they have one another. Whether that's tickles on the couch or stuffing their faces full of cookies and pizza, whispering sweet nothings or their closest form of intimacy, they cherish their ability to get rid of walls when they're together.

C – Camera (How do they document their relationships? Who likes to take pictures? Or videos?)

They both have a tendency to reach for their phones and document things. Tom loves taking selfies with her and requires multiple each time, and Clove likes taking pictures of him to scroll through later. He was pleasantly surprised when finding that she has an entire album dedicated to random candid moments of his, and sometimes does things she'd think to be cute while she's holding her phone, just to give her a little something extra.

D – Dates (What are their dates like?)

They've never really been a couple who plan anything even kind of elaborate, though Tom does try. He knows she prefers nights in, so he likes to surprise her with her favorite foods and snacks and either a pile of blankets or a cute pillow fort. They both consider these nights, “date nights,” and it's kind of an inside joke.

E – Early (What was the first month of dating like?)

Awkward. Much of the first month consisted of Clove flirting, Tom missing her advances, and fighting the supernatural. Not the grandest of times.

F – Friends (How is their relationship with each other’s group of friends?)

Amazing. Andy and Clove get along super well, which makes Tom over the moon. He loves when Andy visits and they all play Mario Kart or go on walks together and thinks their sassy personalities go hand in hand. He doesn't even mind when he becomes the butt end of their joke.

Tom and Clove's bestie, Ricky, didn't meet in person for a few months, but they quickly became buddies and they even have their own group chat with Elliot for when Tom has some...plans... about doing something special for her. 😉

G – Gifts (Do they like giving each other gifts? What kind?)

Tom always wants to pay for things because he thinks it's chivalrous, but Clove couldn't care less. Truth is, it's always kind of a battle with these two. They love to spoil one another and do so very often, no matter if it's a new item or something hand made.

Clove spun and sculpted an entire collection of MCU mugs for Tom’s first birthday when they were together, which inspired him to start sketching again as he did in middle school (inspired by one of his heroes, Ben Park.) He draws her cute little doodles on the mirror in dry erase marker and she swoons every single time.

H – Hugs (All things involving hugs)

Clove is a laying down hugger. So in other words, she likes to face Tom, wrap her arms around him, and simultaneously hold each other. Tom doesn't hug people too often apart from his family and close friends on occasion, but he absolutely adores her hugs. He often comments on her scent and softness, and she melts in his warmth.

I – Inside Jokes (Do they have any?)

Too many. Like, actually too many. Sometimes it's hard to keep track.

J – Jealousy (Who gets jealous easier? How do they show their jealousy?)

Tom surprises himself at his lack of jealousy now that they're together. At first, he second guessed himself more than he should have, but now he knows how solid they are. Clove, however, tends to harbor a bit of jealousy when others check him out. She never says anything and she doesn't make a show of it, but he notices the look in her eyes when she catches someone admiring his looks. He'll jokingly elbow her and wiggle his eyebrows, mouthing, “Love you,” and she holds his hand a little tighter as if to thank him for that gentle reassurance.

K – Kiss (How do they kiss? Who usually initiates?)

They both initiate in their own ways, very distinctly. Tom starts slow, usually gently swiping his fingers across her waist as he pulls her in, sweetly rubbing his nose with hers before he kisses her. He prefers pecks in public, but when they're in a safe place, he drinks her kisses like fine wine. Slow, steady, loving, almost as if he's afraid he'll run out of her. Kissing Tom is an experience, one that fills her entire heart with butterflies no matter how many times she's done it.

Clove's kisses are just as gentle, but mix in a heap of sensuality. She doesn't care who sees, but respects Tom's aversion to too much PDA. She kisses him with fire, whether slow burning or fierce flickers, leaving lingering love marks on that special place just behind where his hair falls on his neck. Not too dark, but enough for him to hold onto in moments of her absence. He is a big fan of this.

L – Love (How do they first say those three words?)

You already know the canon version, but in my fic universe...the night they finally become intimate. He's so nervous for her to say it, and it's almost a fight to fit it in, but it's a tender and beautiful moment.

M – Movies (What kinds of movies do they watch together? Is it a regular Netflix ritual?)

Clove is a horror girl at heart, even after the wild experiences they have in Pine Springs. Tom is okay with this, and he happily binges films with her, but he really loves anything related to the MCU and anything funny or action packed. When they can't decide what to watch, they put Bob's Burgers on and snuggle, which genuinely is their routine nowadays. They love it.

N – Nicknames (Things they call each other)

Tom's nicknames for Clove, in order of his most to least fave : Love, Angel, Babe, Baby

Clove's nicknames for Tom, in order of her most to least fave : Tommy, Baby, Babe, Honey, Sweetie, Dear

O – One (Tell us about the moment they realized they were with the one.)

Clove will argue that she's always known, and stands by that. In truth, it was one moment soon after meeting him, after their first kiss in Westchester, when he was falling asleep while they'd gone out for pizza. He jolted up to pretend he wasn't asleep, hair falling in his face. He said, “I'm awake! You're pretty.” She knew.

Tom knew she was the one very early on but doesn't have one moment pinpointed. She reminds him each morning that she kisses his cheeks and every time she calls him, “Tommy.”

P – Pizza (What is their favorite food to eat together?)

Pizza, specifically pizza from the good bread place down by the spice market. They have the best cheese pulls and Tom is a huge sucker for their jalapeño breadsticks on the side.

Q – Quit (Do they break up? Almost break up? What happened?)

No. Even during their biggest fight, neither of them could fathom leaving the other. This would have been catastrophic for them, as both of them have their hearts and minds set on only loving one another.

R – Rainy Days (How do they comfort each other on dark days?)

Tom is very nurturing, as taught by his grandparents at a young age. She loves when he sings, and though he doesn't do it often, he will always delight her ears when she's down. He likes to light her favorite candles, prepare her bath water, he warms her towel and makes her snacks. He's even sat on the bathroom floor and held her hand during one of said baths, which has quietly become one of her most treasured memories of their relationship.

Clove knows exactly what Tom needs in all of his moods, especially the down ones. He thrives on positive affirmations, so much of the time, she will spoon him and brush his hair with her fingers while telling him how wonderful he is and how much she loves him. He gets tingles when she plays with his hair and sometimes he'll give her puppy dog eyes and sit on the floor in front of her, leaning his head back into her lap. She loves it too and doesn't mind the extra practice for if they ever have a long haired baby one day.

S – Soft (Something one of them did that turned the other into absolute mush)

These two are the epitome of soft for one another. Just this morning, Tom was pouring a bowl of cereal after Clove had gone to her studio. He noticed her lipstick stain on the mug she'd left on the counter, and it almost made him tear up. He just really loves her, okay? On her way to the studio, he sent her a good morning selfie and she felt her insides go melty. She pulled into the parking lot and held her phone to her chest, smiling, before sending one back. She just really loves him, okay?

T – Texting (Do they text each other a lot? What do they usually talk about over the phone?)

They text each other random things all day long, which usually consists of memes and bad jokes, but Tom loves her studio selfies. She'll even use clay scraps to spell out silly messages and send them to him, while he sends her scrunch faced pictures in return. They're ridiculously sappy and even more cute.

As for phone calls, they don't have those very often, and the ones they do...well, this is meant to be SFW...so let's skip it.

U – Unique (Tell us about some of their odd habits that surprised one another.)

Clove was shocked when Tom revealed himself to be very, very clean. He doesn't leave things around, he does his dishes as he uses them, and his apartment always smells as clean as it looks. Sometimes he misses laundry, but for the most part, he's a clean guy. She differs from him a little, meaning she will leave things in the living room (like books, magazines, makeup) creating a little clutter. Tom secretly likes this, because it makes him feel like his place is becoming a home. Their home.

V – Vanity (Something they’re proud of in themselves and their partner)

Clove's art skill is way more than she'd ever let on, so much so that her only job is her art - and it's enough. She is mad talented and very self sustaining, and this is her point of pride. She loves what she does and she knows she's among the best.

Tom’s great at anything technical and can figure things out very quickly. This enables him to essentially breeze through college and also maintain his new job position at a tech firm. He's an excellent learner and a fast one at that, and he is very proud of where he's headed.

They are proud of one another for these things, sure, but more so, they are proud of one another for the strength and fire they each hold.

W – Wedding (Tell us about your wedding head canon if they’ve gotten that far. Or if not, have they talked about it?)

You'll just have to wait and see.

X – X (Something they hate about the other)

Hate is a strong word, but Clove really does wish he'd remember to put the seat down. He usually laughs and calls her, “little wet booty,” but she really, really doesn't think it's funny. On the other end, Tom wishes she'd stop leaving bobby pins and matches everywhere. The girl loves candles and the sound a match makes when it strikes, but he's sick of picking them up all the time.

Y – Youtube (What are they like online? Do they post about their relationship constantly?)

They post about their relationship on special occasions and extra sappy days, but they do frequently post updated photos together.

Z – Zoo (Are they into animals? Do they want pets? What kind?)

They're both dog people and they'd love one or two, but they're waiting to get a house instead of Tom's little apartment and her studio. Clove also wouldn't mind some kind of rodent, but when she held a mouse up to him at the pet store, he may have shrieked a little. No rodents for Tom.