my name is graham, but you can call me gray. this isn't my first time on tumblr, just a new account. i am a minor (16), this blog is a safe space, and i love crackers and milk.
what i'll post/interests:
i am multifandom, so.. expect a lot of surprises. then again, i can never let go of my fandoms–curse you nostalgia!! but i do draw and write, i sometimes even talk about some stuff. who knows, maybe you'll find out new things about me.
current interests:
- sanders sides
- twisted wonderland
- dc comics
- the pitt
- bandom
cracker crumbs i've left around the internet(other socials):
pairing: holland march/reader
genre: fluff, first kiss to making out!!!!
cw: written in lower case, some vulgar words, ooc? i'm new to writing holland</3, canon typical comedy(mentions of intimacy in a comedic manner)
word count: 1,538 + 500(bonus!) = 2,038
synopsis:
who knew holland march would take you out... to an amusement park?
"... why are you looking at me like that?"
oh, i don’t know.. maybe because he looked like he was about to burst into tears and pretend he wasn’t a few minutes later? not to mention, he was already shaking like a fucking leaf.
you huffed at the man before you, yet you couldn’t deny the fond smile creeping up onto your lips. the lively atmosphere is something you aren’t used to, not at night anyway. usually It's nights in, maybe watching a movie, reading a book, and a lot more, or even less. but that doesn’t mean going to an amusement park bothered you much.
holland was nice enough to send an invite to you a few days back; “come play at the amusement park with me, it’ll be fun.” it read. you were very sure that he was drunk when he sent that text, it was a miracle you were able to even read it, he was too stubborn to admit it when you brought it up though. and too stubborn to back down.
when a single croak of the ferris wheel gear reached his ears, he jolted in his seat. holland’s eyes flickered over to your side, only to see if you were looking–and you were–”fuck.” he muttered under his breath, before chuckling awkwardly with his teeth clenched.
he was trying his best to keep his composure, as “best” as he could, anyway. you were flattered! and entertained.
“nothing.” you turned to look out the window, try to hold back an even bigger smile that threatened to show itself. holland paused, furrowing his eyebrows, before he shuffled in his seat, albeit very, very carefully. as if his weight was enough to send your cart down to the ground. hell, you two aren’t even that far off the ground, it’s been just a minute into the ride.
“yeah, fine, nothing. that’s what they all say.”
a chuckle left your lips–which slowly started to escalate to laughter. “r-really? what's so funny!?” holland asked, well, he kind of shouted that question. you looked back at his face, realizing the redness of his cheeks and the fear in his eyes.
he was terrified of this ferris wheel ride.
“we didn't have to go on this ride, holland..” you sighed, regaining your composure. holland shot up–”fuck! shit–i'm not scared!” he yelled defensively… while holding onto the walls of the ferris wheel.
"i'm a grown–"
as if the operators of the ride knew what was going on in your cart, the ferris wheel started to move again. holland yelped, feeling the cart sway–as if he wasn't making it sway himself–”JESUS–HELP ME!?” he shouted at you, legs almost about to give out, looking into your eyes with his wide, frightened eyes.
you bit back another chuckle as you held on his hand, and pulled him onto your seat. holland's grip on your hand was undefeatable. it was so strong, you were sure he could break your bones and stop your blood flow. the cart slightly started to tilt–since you two were sitting on the same side–earning another yelp from the grown ass man beside you.
instinctively, holland held onto your arm with both of his hands. “HOW ARE YOU NOT–” holland paused when he saw your face. your gentle, reassuring smile. he huffed, one of his hands let go of your arm. “.. holland?” you called out. his hand snaked down to yours, as he gripping onto them like you were his lifeline, and you are.
your cart reached the very tippy-top. meaning you have a turn to get the best view. it seems that holland was trying to get some courage to.. see said view? when he did, he was quick to stick to your side and shake his head. “nope, nope, nope, i'm done. i'm done!” he crossed his arms. this man..
he turned to look at you, giving you the best view ever. the flashing amusement park lights below them, the moonlight shining through, and holland searching into your eyes–as if trying to asses what you were thinking of.
“… you're looking at me.”
“no, i'm looking at the view.”
“oh, please!” holland scoffed, a snarky scoff. he turned away from you, making you chuckle right after.
“.. do you feel better?” you asked. your cart was silent, then fireworks erupted outside–illuminating the already bright amusement park and the inky night sky. holland took a deep breath, turning back to look at you. “… yeah. a little.” holland muttered, still gripping your hand like the ferris wheel personally wanted him dead.. honestly that could just be his exact thought. fireworks burst around the ferris wheel, making him flinch hard enough for the cart to wobble again.
“JESUS CHRIST—does it have to do that!?”
you laughed under your breath.
“i’m serious! this is how people die, they lure you in with the-the lights and ”beautiful views” and then suddenly—” he motioned vaguely downward with his free hand, “—eighty feet in the air, trapped in a metal fuckin' lunchbox!”
another firework cracked across the sky. holland instinctively leaned closer to you before realizing he was doing it.
“… don’t make a thing outta this,” he mumbled quickly.
you raised an eyebrow. “out of what?”
he opened his mouth just to close it. “nothing.” holland replied, but then he saw a flash of that cheeky grin on your face. he pointed at you defensively. “see!? that look right there–that’s the exact look people give before they start saying things!”
you scoff. “you’re so paranoid, hol.” earning yourself a look that screams ”are you fucking kidding?”. holland closed his eyes and shook his head, as if he didn’t want to hear any of it. “.. what if i actually want to start saying things?” holland knew an idea was currently in your head and he didn’t like it. he never did like it.
“now, what the hell does that mean?” he asked, a little exasperated. you stayed silent, instead choosing the option to just lean in slowly. you gave him time to pull away, push away, decline..
and, accept, maybe.
but he didn’t decline. well, he hadn’t yet.
then, all of that exasperation in holland’s body seemed to have been thrown out the window when your lips finally touched his. his lips felt soft, surprisingly so. it was a short, sweet kiss. when you pulled back, you were met with a star-struck holland. he sighed. “wow.” you smiled softly at him. holland scooted closer, his palm ghosting against the skin of your cheek. he took a deep breath, placing his palm against your skin.
“can i?—”
“just go for it.”
and with that, holland crashed his lips back against yours, a little rougher this time, but of course, with the same amount of love and care as the first. his hand held the nape of your neck, the other caressing your cheek, his hands were rough against you. he tasted like whiskey, cigarettes, and… something akin to cherry? like a medicinal kind of cherry—
was he using chapstick? oh my god, he was!
you chuckle against his lips, earning a grunt from him. “what? what’s so funny..?” holland’s voice muffled into the kiss. making a slight head shaking movement, brushing it off, holland’s stubble scraped your chin. your hands landed on his hips to ground him, it was your own way of saying ”no need to be afraid now.”
you tried to pulled away, but holland was still leaning against your lips. a small whine left from holland’s throat—as if he himself wasn’t winded from the kiss. then holland actually pulled away. the two of you paused to catch your breathes. it was nice. it felt nice. you broke the silence.
“you’re wearing cherry chapstick, are you?”
holland rolled his eyes. “… yes.” you sighed, a flattered that he was prepared. “i never pegged you to be a chapstick user.” he smiled, glancing over at you. “honey, we live in los angeles. the air isn’t just killing the birds, it’s killing my lips too. my lips are fighting for their lives out here.” he paused, eyes narrowing down at you. “…what’d you peg me as, exactly? someone with dry, bloody lips? hell no, i have a reputation to hold.”
his eyes softened, your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. “… and a pair of lips to kiss.” he whispered. “so cheesy.” you shook your head.
“… i meant what i said.” holland raised an eyebrow. “… about me being cheesy?” you whipped your head towards him. “n-no? i mean, look, you didn’t have to agree just because i wanted to go.” hearing that, holland nodded his head, letting a small ”ohh.” leave his lips. “yeah, that makes sense.”
fingers intertwined, leaning against each other, the warmth and taste of each other’s lips lingering against your own..
it was a lovely night, and you were glad you didn’t waste it with some other rando.
the ferris wheel creaked, holland froze, eyes planted on you. and god, he looked so priceless. “… did you hear that?” you burst out laughing, making the cart sway.
“STOP SHAKING THE FUCKING CART!!”
“holland—”
the wheel started to move.
“JESUS, HOLD ME!!”
bonus:
first it was the fancy cologne, next the copious amounts of time in the bathroom just checking his appearance before going out of the house, holly knew her dad, and holly knew when something was different.
“so, what is it?” holland’s head perked up from the couch. sitting on the couch wearing “outside” clothes on a non-work day was also a big sign. “what-what does that mean?” holland replied to her question with another. holly rolled her eyes, pulling out milk from the fridge. “you know what i mean, dad.”
holland scoffed, “well, i don’t.” “yes you do.” holly butted in. there was a pause, before holly spoke up. “you’re going on a date.” hearing that, holland whipped his head over his shoulder to look at his own daughter smirking like some little miss know-it-all! “excuse you?” holly scoffed, pulling out the cookies she made from the jar and onto the plate.
“come on, dad. the cologne? your hair? you’re trying too hard.” hearing that, holland scoffed. “no, i’m not. then again, why would i even want to hear anything from you? what do you know about dates?” holly turned to her father, hands on her hips. “where are you going?” holland sucked in a breath, knowing how holly would react when he replied to that question. “the amusement park.”
holly paused with the milk and cookies in her hands.
”the amusement park?” she echoed. “but you hate rides!”
“i don’t hate rides, holly.”
“you threw up after the teacups when i was eight.”
“they were fast, okay, sweetheart!??
holly groaned, sitting down beside her father with her delectable treat in hand. “you need my help.” holland let out a chuckle, turning to look at holly, who was eating her cookies. it went on for a few seconds before holland realized holly was 100% serious.
“… wait, you’re serious?”
“oh my god, dad.”
“i don’t need help!”
“yes, you literally do.” before holland could object any further, holly was quick to down the hallway to her room. holland sighed, thinking he just made his little girl angry again. when she came out, holland called her. “holly?” but she walked right into holland’s room, completely ignoring him.
holly then returned, holding two items in hand. “you’re welcome.”
holland stared down at the items in holly’s hand.
“… what is this?”
holly placed her other hand on her hip, a smug smile on her lips. “your saving grace.”
“it’s not a date.”
she rolled her eyes. “you bought cologne.”
“that doesn’t—people wear cologne, holly.”
“you also changed shirts three times.”
holland scoffed, as if trying to prove a point. “i spilled coffee.”
“twice?”
holland opened his mouth, paused, then pointed accusingly at the condom. “and what the hell is this supposed to mean!?”
holly shrugged. “i’m covering all bases.”
“i am not taking this!” he whisper-yelled, horrified. “jesus christ, i’m your father!”
“we live in los angeles, dad!”
holland wanted to retort but, really how was he going to top off what holly just said? in the end holland grumbled, flustered and it's not up for debate, as he shoved the two items into his pocket.
