#...man that's how i would feel with a BASIC cast-on (maybe besides the crochet cast-on)

[uncanny-tranny]

Something that amuses me between knitters and crocheters is this... almost humble nature each craft has about the other. I couldn't imagine how one would knit, and I know some of the basics - and yet, I have met so many knitters who say crochet is impossible, and yet I find it to be so simple. There's just something charming about when one recognizes just how much skill, effort, patience, and care go into a craft, and to be humbled by just how incredible human ingenuity and creativity are

[writingismyhappytime]

I'm thankful for friends, making new friends, meeting the band in two weeks, and road trips ❤️ hope this works in a magical way as a fic

You squeeze your arms around Chris, a warm, fuzzy feeling settling over your shoulders as you look around the home you’ve made together. It’s perfectly decorated for the holidays, much to his dismay, but it’s important to you to get into the spirit. You want to wake up every day to the smell of gingerbread candles or pumpkin spice, shove your feet into warm slippers and walk into a livingroom prepared for Christmas despite Halloween was two days ago.

“This is going to be such a good year,” you say excitedly, pleased at the Christmas tree looming in the corner of the room, decorated in reds and golds on one side, blacks and silvers on the other --- neither of you could agree on the colors, so you compromised.

Honestly? You kind of like it, it shows both of your personalities, both of your tastes.

“You’re not going to try to get out of meeting my parents this time, right?” You ask after a moment, twitching your eyes up at the tall black-haired man beside you who was looking at his phone rather than at the decorations you’ve been laboring over for days.

“Last time was an accident,” he mumbles defensively; it’s not his fault that there was an emergency band meeting about the album that he sort of planned as a way to get out of meeting your very country-bumpkin parents for the first time. He just knows they’re not going to like him, and you’ve only been dating a year! Isn’t it a little fast to meet the family just yet?

Sure, you might be living together, you have for the last six months, but that’s different! Sure, you might also be in one of his music videos, and on one of his bank accounts just in case there’s an emergency, but --- well, those things had all seemed natural to happen at the time! No rush, no force, not like this whole parents thing.

It makes him uncomfortable.

He’s an adult, technically old enough to be a parent himself now, but that doesn’t make the impending situation any less doom-filled. Maybe he can say one of the band broke their leg and he has to go to the hospital, and make one of them limp around for six months in a cast when you’re around. That seems like a more logical thing to do, actually, maybe Ricky would ---.

“Chris.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop plotting for a way out of this,” you wag your finger firmly at him as you step away, gathering errant tinsel decorating his black livingroom suite. “You can’t bail on me this time, I won’t allow it. I don’t care if someone is dying, you’re meeting my folks.”

Folks.

“Ugh.”

“Do I have too?” He grumbles unhappily, sitting down heavily in the armchair, grimacing as he realizes he’s squishing Rudolph. He’s not near as into the holiday spirit as you are, and it sort of irks him to come home and see all this nonsense hanging around, but you were just so excited to decorate he couldn’t exactly tell you no. He frowns down at the reindeer he holds in his tattooed hands, the bright red nose he has the sudden urge to rip off.

“They’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time, Chris, so yes! We’ve been together over a year now!’

Not quite a year, Chris thinks. He tosses Rudolph away from him, not caring where he lands as he looks at you. “Yes, but we don’t want to rush anything. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind giving us more time before they meet me.”

“Are you afraid of my parents?” You frown at him, garland hanging from your neck as you try to gather your holiday supplies. You have some glitter on you from who knows what, some ornaments are hanging off your fingers by their delicate strings, and under one arm is apparently sticks you can buy to apparently stuff the tree and make it look fuller? He’d never heard of such a thing before. “Is big bad frontman of a metal band afraid of meeting two old people? My mom crochets and my dad runs the local bingo, they’re not exactly feral.”

You look... amused.

Chris face sours. “I am not afraid of meeting them! I just --- well, I don’t know. It just seems soon. Why don’t we wait another year?”

“Why? Do you plan on breaking up with me sometime next year?” You quirk a brow at him curiously, slowly putting your ornaments away. “Is that why you don’t want to meet them?”

“No.” Chris squirms.

“They’re just people, Chris, you meet new ones every day! There’s nothing different and nothing to be worried about,” you sound exasperated, struggling too get the tinsel off of you and into the designated box.

“But it’s different,” he replies, getting to his feet to help you. He lifts the tinsel off of you, tossing it into the box already overflowing with decor. "It's your people."

"They're going to like you," you say, brushing at your ugly, obnoxious cat sweater. He swears you've pulled out a box that has a sweater for every single day until the holiday, and now you're talking about making him wear some! He does have a reputation to uphold! Although, it would be a funny card to send out, both of you wearing horrid looking sweaters.

Actually, that would be cute, he's not quite so opposed now.

"Are you sure they're not going to think I'm the devil luring their little girl to the dark side?"

You roll your eyes. "No. If anything, I think I'm more devious than you are, you just look the part. Don't let my cat sweater fool you, Mr. Cerulli, I'm quite the devil myself."

"Oh really? Chris chuckles, feeling your arms curling tightly around his waist again as you snuggle into him. He holds you, giving you a light squeeze as he presses his lips into your hair.

Yeah, still doesn't want to meet your parents.

Still will try to find a way out of it.

Just won't mention that detail to you.

"Oh, and when we sit down at Thanksgiving, we have this tradition of going around the table saying what we're thankful for because we really are that basic, but you're going to have to play long. Say something cheesy, my mom will love that," you say, your voice muffled by his shirt. "It doesn't matter if you really mean it or not, but that'll make them like you more. Which I also don't think you have anything to worry about. My mom keeps telling everyone she slept with a member of Motley Crue back in the day, so I don't know how true that is or not, but be prepared for that story since she knows you're in a band."

Chris chuckles, his lips curving. "Sleeping with the band runs in the family, huh?"

"You could say that." You reply, shrugging your shoulders. You nudge him until he's taking a few steps back, falling back into the armchair still warm from his occupation earlier. You sit down in his lap, curling your cold toes against his leg as you snuggle into him, his warm arms keeping you against him. "Do you want to practice what you're thankful for?"

"Not really."

"Oh, come on," you shuffle a little, letting your head rest against his black-clad shoulder. "Humor me."

Hmph.

"I'm thankful for --- you being my girlfriend. Baking lots of cookies, making it smell girly as fuck in here at all times." Chris glances dubiously at all the lit candles.

"Well, there's a start," you bite your lower lip, cheeks pinkening. He started off so well.

"I'm thankful for --- all that we have together," you say after a moment. "Our apartment, the things we do together."

Oh, are you going back and forth now? Crap, what else can he be thankful for?

"Uhh --- I'm thankful for... um... I don't know." he grimaces. This is a lot harder than expected. What is he thankful for? He tries to think, but his mind is just completely blank.

"Well, I'll go again. I'm thankful for friends, making new friends," you chew your lip thoughtfully. "Meeting the band in two weeks." You haven't met any of them, not because you don't want too, your life is just busy and they're his work buddies, you don't think it's important to meet them until he wants you too --- turns out now he does, which made you so happy to know he wants you more involved in his life! "And road trips."

"Road trips?"

"Yep. We're taking one next year, remember? You might have got to see all fifty states, but I'm still lacking seven of them! I need to finish my tshirt collection."

Oh god.

Chris forgot about that.

"I can always buy you one when I go through the state."

"It's not the same! I want to see it for myself. You did promise me, remember?" You boop his nose lightly with your finger, amused when his pale cheeks turn bright pink. "I want us to go together for the experience. It'll be fun. You can take a week off work, and we can just spend it together."

Ahuh.

"Like... are we driving or flying?"

"Well, we can rent an RV, really spend some close time together," you say, pretending to be thoughtful and not ignore his horrified look. "You remember that movie with Robin Williams? It'll kind of be an adventure like that! It'll be fun!"

Absolutely not.

Chris has not sunk that low!

"Doesn't he get run over by the RV?"

"I'm sure you'll be fine, honey." you pat his shoulder reassuringly.

Chris sighs.

Sure he will.

"You know what else I'm thankful for?" You say after a moment, snuggled in his lap in your warm sweater, his arms keeping away the chill of the room. You love little, simple moments like this when it's just the two of you, when it's quiet and peaceful, all you're missing is the crackling of an open fire.

"What's that?"

"You." You press a soft kiss against his chin, smiling. "Putting up with me and my holiday obsession, letting me decorate this space and tease you about RV's but going along with it anyway. I love you, and you're important to me, I'm so thankful that I met you and that we've been able to spend all this time together."

Chris blinks, his cheeks a nice rosy hue as he absorbs your words.

"How am I supposed to top that?" He mumbles, and you smile warmly at him, snuggling close again.

"You're not supposed too, so long as you feel the same."

His arms around you tighten. "I definitely feel the same."

He gives it a moment, then, "But were you serious about the RV thing? Because we can seriously just fly to whatever state you want to start in and rent a car or something."

"Well, I'll guess we'll find out next year when we start planning for our trip, won't we?" You say lightly, drawing circles with your fingertips along the lines of his dark shirt. "After you meet my parents."

He frowns.

Why do you have to keep reminding him about that?