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thebiggerbear · 7 months

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Something Like This

Summary: A Nor'easter hits Boston and luckily for you, you don't have anywhere you need to be except right here snuggled up with CJ.

A/N: So, I started writing this back in January. We got quite a few snowfalls that month and I had wanted to write some cuddle time with CJ and the reader from the "I hate you" prompt. I wrote about 70% of it but then got distracted due to busy times at work and in life. But after this latest snowfall, I picked it up again and had to finish it. This wasn't originally meant to be for Valentine's Day (obviously) but I changed it up a little since the timing worked out. It's not much but I hope it's alright. Btw, I love snow, just not shoveling it lol.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in any future CJ or Dawson's Creek works.

Sequel to this prompt response

Warnings: pure fluff; implied sex

Word Count: 5995

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

CJ Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @illicithallways; @nancymcl; @muhahaha303

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

This was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

You opened one eye and turned to glance out the window after hearing a low whistle. You watched as snow flakes whipped around in a furious dance against the glass before moving on. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there.”

You felt your boyfriend nuzzling your ear. “Yeah, it is,” he murmured. “Not that I mind.”

You couldn’t help but smile and turn to face him. You saw the blissed out grin gracing his handsome face and the affection in his green eyes as they settled on you. You ran your fingers gently through his hair, making him let out a tiny contented sigh as he burrowed into your neck.

The meteorologists had predicted a Nor’easter for the weekend, one that was going to produce at least a couple of feet of snow after a 24 hour period, and predictably, people panicked and flooded the stores. Being a college student, you hadn’t needed to make a mad rush to the store to buy bottled water, canned goods, or bread; that was something you normally had in your stash. But the storm was something everyone on campus was talking about. Some students who didn’t want to stick around for the mushy white stuff headed out early on Friday for a warmer (or at least drier) destination. Even some professors had canceled classes in the early afternoon even though it wasn’t supposed to start snowing until well after midnight. During all of this hubbub, CJ had called you and suggested you come stay at his place for the weekend. Considering you didn’t want to get stuck with Stacey and her boyfriend (you had heard her making plans earlier that day) and you hadn’t seen CJ since Tuesday, you were completely on board with that plan.

You had brought what you considered to be your own personal snowstorm kit which consisted of hot chocolate mix (with tiny marshmallows of course), a big cozy blanket, and the warmest pajama set you owned. They may or may not have bunny rabbits dressed in sweaters, hats, and mittens enjoying a snow day on them. And CJ may or may not have laughed and enjoyed teasing you when you put them on Friday night for the first movie of the evening. He hadn’t been laughing long though when he discovered how easily he could unbutton your shirt and get his hands in there or how quickly he could undress you.

CJ had his own preparations he had made. He had candles, flashlights, the same type of food and drink stash you had with a few differences, blankets, extra pillows, a few movies picked out and ready to go by the TV, and enough Twizzlers to last you the weekend. You had happily kissed him for that last one; he knew how much you loved Twizzlers.

Sure enough, the snow started right after midnight and hadn’t stopped. Boston was covered in a thick white blanket that just kept growing and growing no matter how many plows made their way through the streets. Now it was Saturday afternoon, with the storm halfway over, and it didn’t show any signs of slowing down any time soon. Feeling CJ pressing gentle kisses to your neck, you were just fine with that.

You hummed happily and closed your eyes, enjoying the sensations of his lips on your skin and his hands sneaking under the hem of your shirt to caress your back. “I love this,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he whispered back, making you smile as he worked his way up to your jaw line.

“We just showered and changed the sheets an hour ago,” you whined when you felt his fingers trail from your back to your front, sneaking under the waistband of your pajama pants.

“I have extra sheets,” he reassured, placing kisses to your cheek and then the corner of your mouth.

“You’re insatiable,” you teased. He had already had you twice this morning and once last night.

“So, I love having sex with my girlfriend, sue me.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully before pecking your lips.

“We have all weekend,” you reminded him. Thankfully, his roommate had made other arrangements for the impending snowstorm, something you highly suspected CJ had urged him to do. “Besides, I wanted to just snuggle for a while and maybe make out a little.” You pouted up at him.

He studied you for a moment and then let out a chuckle. “Just snuggling and making out, huh?”

You grinned and nodded, loving the sight of his smile. CJ may be an attractive guy with handsome features, but his smile made your heart leap inside your chest every single time. Enough that you were starting to worry that you should probably go to the doctor for a checkup, but damn did you love his smile. Had you been able to see it through the months of phone conversations the two of you had, you probably would’ve been an absolute goner from the get go.

“Okay,” he sighed and moved his hand out of your pants and flopped onto his back next to you, pulling you further into his arms. “Happy?”

“Very.” You picked up his hand and began to play with his fingers while he kissed the top of your head. His free hand rubbed up and down your back in soothing circles and he let his cheek rest against your hair.

You both stayed quiet for a few minutes and just listened to the wind howling outside every so often.

“You know, Y/N, I never thought I’d be able to have something like this,” he quietly admitted to you. “A relationship with a girl where I’m sober…and happy.” You smiled, squeezing his fingers in between yours. “I had a plan I was sticking to until I graduated and nothing was going to change it. But then I met you.” You glanced up to find him watching you, an affectionate smile on his face. “And it all changed.”

The words should have made something in your chest warm but instead a spike of anxiety flowed through it instead. He was supposed to be in New York City right now, not Boston. He was only here because of you, because he didn’t want to be two states away from you long term though you had promised you would visit if he went. Nope, he decided he was staying here and finishing out his education at Boston Bay no matter what you’d said to try to convince him not to miss out on an important opportunity. As far as he was concerned, he’d made his decision, he was good with it, and it was case closed.

So, a part of you started to worry but knowing you as well as he did by now, he leaned forward and kissed you until the worry began to fade away. “And I couldn’t be happier that it did,” he whispered to your lips before kissing you again. You felt him shift an arm away from you but before you could look to see what he was doing, he deepened the kiss and you melted into him.

A moment later, he pulled away, making you whine and reach for him when suddenly there was a bouquet of red roses in your face causing your eyes to widen in surprise. CJ was beaming down at you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

Your mouth dropped in shock. You had been so busy the last two weeks, you had completely forgotten the holiday was today. Truthfully, you had never bothered with the holiday before. To you, it was nothing more than a day that Corporate America hijacked to make even more money off of the backs of its consumers. You had never put much stock into it before, not since you reached high school. And now, you had someone you deeply cared about, someone you loved, and you had made the worst mistake you could’ve made by forgetting the holiday while your amazing boyfriend obviously hadn’t.

“Th-Thank you,” you stammered. He offered the bouquet to you and you gratefully accepted them, leaning them up to your nose to gently sniff their wonderful scent. “They’re beautiful.”

CJ carefully moved to the side and sat up against the headboard, watching you with a grin. “Only the best for my girl.”

“You know I have to ask how.” You had been here since last night and never once had you come across any flowers. Not to mention, there was no way any flower deliveries were being made today. You idly wondered just how much money florists across the city were losing.

He inclined his head towards the other side of the room. “Mike’s closet.”

You shot him a look of disbelief. “And they survived?”

CJ laughed and gave you a nod. “They did. I’m not going to lie, I checked on them in the middle of the night when you were asleep. I was worried they would be all wilted or that we might have a Little Shop of Horrors situation suddenly on our hands.”

You snickered and sat up next to him. “If it starts asking me for blood, I’m putting it back in Mike’s closet. It can be a very belated Christmas present.”

He shook his head, chuckling, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I’m just glad they held up. I got them delivered last night before you got here. I put them in water and when you were in the bathroom before, I took them out, dried them off, and hid them on my side of the bed. They seem to be doing okay.” He studied the flowers to make sure.

“They’re perfect,” you whispered. They really were. They could have been dying or missing petals or even a cheap bouquet from the convenience store, and they still would have been perfect. No one had ever given you flowers for Valentine’s Day before or any flowers period — no one other than your dad that is.

CJ smiled over at you and leaned in to kiss you. “I’m glad you like them.”

“They must’ve cost you a fortune, though.”

He waved his free hand dismissively. “Worth it.” He pecked your lips again. “And I made reservations for us for Tuesday night at that seafood place you like.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “The super expensive one?”

He shrugged. “I was going to take you last night but I knew it would be packed. So this way, we avoid the whole crowd of everyone trying to cram in a romantic dinner at the last minute and we can just enjoy ourselves on Tuesday.”

Shame began to unfurl in your chest. He had really thought of everything. Now him lighting the candles last night, the Twizzler stash, him insisting on ordering your favorite takeout — all of it started to make sense in a different way than they first had for the romantic weekend you both were holed up in for the snowstorm. How could you have been so blockheaded not to realize? Granted, you both never talked about what you would want to do for this holiday; it was your first one since you began dating. But you still should have realized. Now CJ had gone all out for you, and you had nothing to give him in return. He had even been thoughtful enough to choose not only your favorite restaurant but a night where it wouldn’t be so crowded since he knew how you felt about being in the same room as a massive amount of people. You had the most amazing and considerate boyfriend and you literally had nothing for him. What a crappy girlfriend you were.

And due to the snow, you couldn’t even try to make up for it by making plans or reservations to take him anywhere (you would have sat in a crowded restaurant for him if it made him happy), or go to the store to get him anything or even purchase ingredients for a meal you could cook for him. You hadn’t even brought anything sexy to wear to bed for him, just your old comfortable PJ’s. Girlfriend fail indeed.

Your smile started to fade and you glanced up at him worriedly. “CJ…I didn’t…I wasn’t—”

He gently kissed your nose. “I know. We never talked about it and I knew you were busy these last two weeks. I just wanted to do something nice for you. I know how you feel about this holiday and well…I wanted to change that up a little. Give you some good memories.” He stroked a petal of the rose closest to him before turning a warm smile on you.

You could feel a familiar stinging in the corner of your eyes. He remembered what you’d told him in one of your many phone conversations when you’d been getting to know each other. You’d been discussing each holiday and sharing both of your thoughts when it came to each one. You didn’t care for Valentine’s Day and when he asked why, you surprised yourself by telling him the truth. In high school, every year, roses were for sale. You could choose between red, pink, and yellow ones; they were approximately five dollars each. You could give it to the person (or people) you bought them for directly, leave it taped to their lockers, or have them delivered to the class they were in. And each year, you were one of two people out of your whole class who never received any. You weren’t a social outcast by any means but you weren’t part of the whole cliques business, preferring to do your own thing. No boy was interested in you and while you had friends, they weren’t the type to buy yellow roses for all of their friends on that day. You and Charlotte Campbell never received a rose in any capacity. And that only held true until junior year when finally you couldn’t take the sad expression on Charlotte’s face anymore as she watched deliveries being made in class, knowing that she was going to be crying her eyes out in the girl’s bathroom before next period, and you did something about it. You ignored the shocked look on Justine Helman’s face when you purchased a pink rose and gave her instructions on where and when to deliver it. The surprised and grateful smile on Charlotte’s face later in History class when a student had delivered the rose to her had been worth it. So much so that you repeated the process in senior year. You had no idea if she ever figured out they were from you (Justine was known to be quite the busybody), but you hoped that regardless, it gave her a little bit of happiness in that moment each time the holiday rolled around.

And from there you slowly began to realize that the holiday was an excuse for florists, candy companies, greeting card companies, condom companies (CJ chuckled at that one but didn’t disagree), lingerie departments and boutiques, jewelry stores, and movie studios and TV stations to make more money. Like one big conspiracy they all partook in for the almighty dollar. So, every time the holiday came around, you rolled your eyes and refused to even acknowledge it. If you loved someone and they loved you, you didn’t need a corporate-infused holiday and two empty bank accounts to show it. That’s where you had stood on the holiday of love and you were determined to keep that stance for the rest of your life.

But then you started dating CJ and now…now you were ready to tear up because he had remembered what you’d said and wanted you to have a good memory on this day for once. You launched yourself at him, kissing him passionately while being careful not to crush the flowers. “I love you,” you whispered when you both needed air.

He moved his hands up to your cheeks and wiped tears away with his thumbs. You had no idea they had escaped. “I love you, too.” His brows drew together as he studied your face. “This was okay, right?”

CJ had never celebrated the holiday with someone either. He’d never been in a relationship when it would roll around on the calendar before this one. So this was his first time acknowledging it, too, to anyone outside of family and friends.

You gave him the most grateful smile you could. “Yeah. More than okay.” You could see the relief playing over his expression. You reached behind you to gently place the flowers on his nightstand and turned back to him, cupping his face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m really glad you like it.” His soft smile made a leaping sensation happen in your chest.

“Like it?” A glimmer of worry shined in his green eyes. “Oh, you are so getting laid right now, pal.” You started to pull him to you as you leaned back onto the bed. He laughed but it got cut short by you kissing him deeply. You moaned into his mouth when he settled in between your thighs and you cradled his hips with your legs. You began to hurriedly unbutton your top when his hands stopped you and he lifted up for air.

“Wait, wait.” You gulped for air, watching him intently, wondering why he was stopping you. “As badly as I want this, and it’s really, really badly, I actually have a plan.”

You arched your brows in question. “A plan?”

A small raw sound escaped his throat as you rubbed up against him, feeling him growing impossibly harder. “Yep. Damn, I’m going to have to start thinking about Kierkegaard, aren’t I?”

You had been smirking, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as you continued to tease him, when that caught your attention. “Kierkegaard?”

He nodded emphatically, his eyes closed, as he tried to pull away from you but you locked your legs around him. “Yeah,” he nearly moaned out as you grinded against his erection.

“CJ,” you called in your most seductive voice, a tone that you knew drove him crazy, as he’d told you one night after phone sex during finals week. That had been the first time you’d attempted it and boy, had that turned out to be one fun evening.

You both had been stressed and unable to make time for one another, so you’d taken the situation by the ‘nads, literally. You were nervous; you weren’t sure if this would be something he liked or if you would screw up or if you would sound horrifically laughable. Before you could chicken out, you’d called him up one night near the end of his shift.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

“Hello, CJ. I seem to be having a problem that I think only you can help with.”

“Oh? And what’s that, Jo?” You could hear the smile in his voice, having recognized yours right away. You felt a little bit of a thrill at him using your old name; it just added to the excitement of what you were about to do.

“Well, the thing is, my boyfriend and I haven’t had much time to see one another. Finals, you know?”

“Yeah, finals week can be brutal.”

“Mmm, you know what else is brutal? We haven’t had sex in almost two weeks.”

It took him a moment to respond and in that time, you wondered if maybe you had already screwed things up. Perhaps you shouldn’t have started this while he was on shift. Perhaps you had made him uncomfortable or you sounded like an idiot as you had feared, probably both. You were just about to backtrack when he quietly cleared his throat. “That does sound pretty brutal. Maybe you two should make some special plans to remedy that once finals are over.”

Relieved, you let out a drawn out sigh into the phone. “But that’s at the end of the week. I’m not sure I can wait that long. I’ve tried taking care of things myself, you know? But it’s not the same.”

“Well, perhaps you’re not using that…method correctly. Maybe you should tell me what it is you’re doing and we can figure it out together why it’s not working. Don’t leave out a single detail. I’m here to help.”

You smirked and shook your head. “Well, that’s sort of what I was thinking, CJ,” you played along. “But, I don’t think that it’s anything I’m doing wrong in the process. I think it’s that my boyfriend isn’t present when I do it. So, I was thinking maybe you could pretend to be him while I do it and we’ll see if maybe that will help, you know?”

“Whatever you need. That’s what I’m here for.” You could hear his voice getting deeper and you felt a flipping sensation in your stomach.

“That’s what I like to hear,” you whispered huskily. “How much longer do you have before we can do this experiment?”

“I’ve got ten minutes left.” He then lowered his voice. “I can be at your place in twenty.”

Oh God, you would have loved for him to come by but Stacey and her worse half were expected to walk through the door in the next hour and you wanted to continue this game for lack of a better word. “Uh, uh, uh. No can do, CJ. My boyfriend wouldn’t like it and we’re supposed to do this over the phone. You’re helping me so I can make it through the next week until I see him again, remember?”

“But if my shift is over in ten then how—”

“Now, CJ, I believe we exchanged room numbers, didn’t we? In case I ever needed your help outside of your hours at the helpline?” You then lowered your voice again. “And, baby, I really need your help on this one.”

You heard a quiet gulp on the other end of the line. “R-Right. You know, Seth just walked in so I’m going to clock out early and head home. I’ll call you when I get there, it should be no more than ten minutes, give or take.”

“Make it seven,” you huskily commanded before hanging up the phone. You snickered, wondering if he would literally run those three blocks to his dorm if he had to. Sure enough, when he called you eight minutes later, panting and breathing out, “I’m here. I’m here,” you knew you had been right. That had been one explosive night and you had not only discovered something new about yourself but you also discovered something new about him as well. You liked to tease him and be in charge sometimes; he liked being teased and he liked for you to be in charge sometimes. Win-win and it had done wonders for your confidence in the bedroom. You had certainly never done anything like that with anyone else. That was another thing you loved about him. CJ allowed you the room to explore and you felt completely safe with him to do so.

There may or may not have been a few more illicit call-ins at the end of his shift, and there may or may not have been another week or two that you purposely didn’t see each other so it could lead to fantastic phone sex, desperate and passionate sex when you reunited, or both.

So now, you decided to use that tone on him once more. “Why are you trying to pull away? I want this really badly, too.” You gently dragged your nails down his bare chest down to his navel, knowing how he loved it when you did that. Sure enough, you heard a tiny gasp coming from him. You lifted up to whisper in his ear, “You can still have your plan but let’s do this first. Come on, CJ, I know you want this just as much as I do.” You nibbled at his ear lobe. “So, I love having sex with my boyfriend, sue me.” You couldn't help teasing him by repeating his words back to him.

His eyes snapped open and he gently pushed you back on the bed, his hands carefully pinning your shoulders down and his chest heaving in and out. You could see his pupils were blown wide with lust. You knew then if you just nudged him a little more, he’d give in and you wouldn’t leave this bed for the rest of the day. “I really want this but I also want you to see the rest of my plan just as much. And we need energy for it. I’m more than willing to give you what you want later but right now, let’s go see what I’ve got planned first, okay?”

You gave him the sad puppy dog expression as he called it, and predictably it made him chuckle. “Okay,” you agreed. Considering how much trouble he’d gone to in order to surprise you on this holiday, you’d do as he asked and stop teasing him. You unhooked your legs from his waist and he released your shoulders. He began to lean down to kiss you in thanks but he seemed to think better of it and lifted his head once more.

“So, what’s the plan?” You asked.

“Did you happen to bring gloves and a hat in that huge bag of yours?”

Your eyes widened and then narrowed. “Why?”

He grinned down at you and ran a tender thumb along your cheek.

CJ had told you to get dressed and to bundle up. You had begrudgingly done so, not happy that you were obviously leaving the warm cocoon you had both been in since the storm started, but it was what he wanted and you were intent on giving him anything he desired today. Sure enough, he led you out of his dorm and down the street. The thick snowflakes were still coming down steadily but at least the wind wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier. It was almost peaceful, your gloved hand in CJ’s, you two being the only ones out and about. The lack of sounds of city life and the white landscape painted a picture that was beyond beautiful.

You came to a stop near a park and CJ turned a smile onto you before trudging inward, bringing you along. He settled on an open spot and let your hand go. “Remember when you told me about those snow days you used to have?”

Your lips parted in shock. He really did remember almost everything you told him. You should be used to it by now but it still managed to surprise you every once in a while. Back then, you had no idea just how much he looked forward to your phone calls and how much he truly enjoyed talking to you as you got to know one another.

You had told him about the snow days you had from elementary school, the rare ones where you would get more than a foot of snow. You didn’t have any siblings and your dad, who was usually busy with work, would take you outside to do all kinds of fun things. You made snowmen, you had snowball fights, you would go sledding…he had even made you a small snow fort once. Afterwards, you would both go inside and your mom would have steaming mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows waiting. Those days were some of your best childhood memories.

CJ grinned over at you and then began to make the bottom part of a snowman. You let out a tiny squeal of excitement and hurried over to help him, earning you a laugh.

It wasn’t long before you had the snowman built. CJ reached into his pockets and pulled out buttons, a carrot, and an old pipe that he told you he had managed to buy this week when you asked where he’d gotten them from. You felt that familiar warmth in your chest when you realized that he really had been planning this longer than a day or two. Again, you felt horrible that you had been so oblivious and that you had nothing in return for him. You were resolved that you were going to make this up to him, though. Big time. He could pick all the movies you would watch for the next month. You would play all the mini golf he wanted (when the weather cleared up of course). You would let him choose the takeout and restaurants for however long he wanted. You would do everything he wanted to do and give him whatever he wanted.

He placed the items on the snowman and slipped out a beanie hat to finish off the look. He stood back with you as you both studied your creation.

“Something’s missing,” you wondered aloud.

“Sticks for arms? I can find some.”

“No…something else.” It finally hit you and you removed the scarf from around your neck, the one CJ had lent you, and wrapped it around the snowman’s. “There.” You beamed over at your boyfriend. “All done,” you informed him in a singsong voice. CJ smiled warmly at you and his eyes held a familiar gleam of affection as he stepped forward. He removed the scarf from the snowman, making you frown. “Hey! Now he’s incomplete again.”

He took a step closer to you and shook the scarf of any snow remnants, gently wrapping it around your neck once more. “You need it more than he does,” he murmured, placing a tender kiss on your nose.

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet gesture. You lifted up to kiss him when he took a few steps away from you, making your brows furrow. He grinned and suddenly fell backwards, making you gasp and hurry over, falling to your knees beside him. “CJ, are you alright?”

He chuckled and looked up at you. “What was the last part of the story you told me?” He began to move his arms and legs in a familiar motion.

“Snow angels,” you whispered.

He continued making one and you crawled a little distance away to plop onto your back and make one of your own. You couldn’t help giggling as you did it. God, this was amazing. Why had you ever stopped doing this once you were no longer a little kid? Why weren’t there any other adults out here, minus children, doing the same? This was incredible.

You had just finished making your snow angel when CJ’s face appeared in your vision. His smile rivaled yours.

“You ruined your snow angel, silly,” you teased, knowing it wasn’t intact from him crawling from nearby over to you.

He shrugged. “I don’t need it, not when I’ve got the real deal right here.”

Seeing his eyes intent on you, you knew it wasn’t just some cheesy line he was using on you. As much as you loved him, there was a part of you that didn’t understand the reverence he looked at you with sometimes. You didn’t feel you deserved it and sometimes it scared you that he might have put you on a pedestal that you were destined to fall from, being human and all. But when you would remind him of your imperfections, he would simply shrug and remind you that he wasn’t perfect either. He didn’t want perfection; he wanted real, something like what you already had. “Although, I’ve got to say, you’re pretty damn close to perfect,” he’d murmured in your ear. You had gently swatted his shoulder, which made him laugh, and he’d given you a tender smile. “Perfect for me,” he added. You had kissed him thoroughly for that sentiment and he had nuzzled you as you both settled in to watch whatever horror movie he had picked out.

You now lifted your arm up to grab hold of the collar of his coat to pull him slowly down to you. You pressed your lips to his and heard his hands settling on either side of your head, anchoring him so he could keep his weight off of you. “Thank you for today,” you whispered.

His smile grew bigger. “You’re welcome.”

You bit your lip nervously. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything planned for you. I didn’t even think… But I’m going to fix that. Starting this week. I’m going to—”

He kissed you again, effectively shutting you up. “Today has been a good day for me, too. I don’t want anything else so don’t worry about it.”

You gave him a look. “But that doesn’t make up for—”

“Tell you what, how about we head back to the dorms, get some hot chocolate going, and then you can make it up to me.” He gave you that all too familiar salacious smirk.

“CJ,” you laughed. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

You thought it over for a moment, studying him intently, seeing the red in his cheeks and nose from the cold, and tiny snowflakes hanging from his eyelashes. “Okay,” you agreed. “But we need to do one thing first.”

His smirk grew into a triumphant one. “What’s that?”

You instantly scooped up snow on your right and gently hit the side of his head, causing the snow to fall down the left side of his face and onto you, making you twist and squirm underneath him to keep most of the mess from pelting you.

CJ glanced down at you in shock, one half of his face covered in snow, his beanie completely saturated with it. You laughed and he immediately caged you in between his arms. “Oh, you’re going to get it.”

You hit him with another snowball and as he recovered, you crawled out from underneath him, laughing. You had just gotten to your feet to run when he tackled you, making you shriek, and began to pelt you with snow. An all out snowball war ensued and you couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed that much. Eventually, CJ won (you let him win though you would never tell him that) and he hovered over you, snow covering every inch of him, smugly smiling down at you. Now, this was perfection. You had never seen a more beautiful sight and your heart had that leaping sensation in your chest again. You hoped that no matter how old you got one day, you never lost this memory. Not only of how he looked but also how much you truly loved him in this moment.

You lifted up and kissed that smugness right off of his face. It wasn’t long before you were back at the dorms and he had snuck you into the showers with him, promising hot chocolate after you both got warmed up. As the hot water rained down on you both, you gasped as he teased you from behind, his hands roaming all over you. You turned in his arms to face him and wrapped yours around his neck to keep steady. You gasped again when he picked you up, urging you to wind your legs around his waist, and moved you under the spray so he could use the tile wall behind you as leverage.

CJ kissed you deeply, neither of you minding the water trickling down over your faces. He broke away and stared into your eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you whispered back to him, smiling, before his lips covered yours once more. You quickly thought back over everything from today and his words came back to you. “You know, Y/N, I never thought I’d be able to have something like this.” “A relationship with a girl where I’m sober…and happy.” The truth was you never thought you’d be able to have something like this either. But you did; you had it. And like CJ had also said, you had never been happier.

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#cj braxton x reader #cj braxton x female reader #cj braxton x you #cj braxton x y/n #cj braxton #dawson's creek fanfiction #cj braxton fanfiction #a little something for valentine's day with this cute boy #something like this #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #dawson's creek fanfic #cj braxton fanfic #thebiggerbear writes #sequel to i hate you you have a weird way of showing that #jensen ackles character fanfiction #jensen ackles character fanfic

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telekinetictrait · 1 year

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"I was pretending that I did not speak their language; on the moon we spoke a soft, liquid tongue, and sang in the starlight, looking down on the dead dried world." (We Have Always Lived In The Castle – Shirley Jackson, 1962)

the 1960s were also known as the swingin' sixties, and that name could not be more appropriate. while some other decades had moved towards comfort, the 1960's truly embraced it. some of the youth simply threw on a tunic and stepped into some pants and walked out the door! the popularity of television broadcasted different styles and trends across the country and the world. new materials like acrylics and polyesters were cheap to produce and to buy, and made fashion more accessible than it ever had been. the swingin' sixties brought the youth miniskirts, striped sweaters, the boxy "mod" look, and the bright, fun makeup associated with famous artists like twiggy. some older women tended towards the skirt + suit jacket combination worn by first lady jackie kennedy, but the comfort of the youth was appealing to all ages. beatnik fashion was also popular, with trim black trousers and dark sweaters. in 1964, hairspray was the most popular beauty product on the market – and it showed in the elaborate updos of the era. as the decade drew to a close, the "hippie" style was a popular look among the youth, with loose fitting tops and baggy pants, as well as maxi skirts. many of the hippies incorporated crafts into their fashion, with patchwork and beadings becoming popular.

this is only a very brief summary – the trends and influences of the 1960s are vast and complex, just as the 1960s themselves were. the social revolutions mirrored the revolutions in fashion, and i could write essays about it. but i am tired and i moved in today.

1800’s / 1900-1909 / 1910-1919 / 1920-1929 / 1930-1939 / 1940-1949 / 1950-1959

cc links under the cut!!

see my resources page for genetics

rachel : birksche's pam hair / fuckyeahunbichobolita's valentines dress / laundry day socks / renorasims' not so flat flats

remington : cats and dogs hair / dissia's retro fur coat accessory (tsr download) / get famous outfit / discover university socks / linzlu's 1960's shoes (download here)

rhiannon : buzzardly28's linda hair / needleworkreve's 1960s eyeshadow / gilded-ghosts' simply sweet dress / blueraptorsden’s vintage stockings / paranormal shoes

river : jools-simming's deborah beret / simadelics' curtain call hair / cottage living sweater / linzlu's 1960's pants (download here) / base game stockings / get together loafers

rjúpa : historysims4's 1960's coiffure / needleworkreve's 1960s eyeshadow / nords' retro reboot 60's hoop earrings (tsr downloads) / dzifasims' daisy dress / base game stockings / linzlu's 1960's shoes (download here)

roxanne : simduction's karen hair (updated by cyclopfrog) / fukkiemon's star pin / georgiapeachsims' mod madness makeup / get together outfit / base game bracelets / renorasims' leather wedge boots

ruslana : ravensim's terri hair / needleworkreve's 1960s eyeshadow / cottage living earrings / happylifesims' short one piece with scarf / get famous socks / serenity-cc's back to the sixties shoes

r'veena : kismet-sims' rosemary hair / needleworkreve's 1960s eyeshadow / get famous earrings / mysteriousoo's bright pants + tunic set (tsr download) / jius-sims' flower mary jane pumps

ryan : simduction's twiggy hair (updated by cyclopfrog) / needleworkreve's 1960s eyeshadow / liliili-sims' earrings #19 / marsmerizing-sims' lesley sweater / linzlu's 1960's skirt (download here) / base game stockings / cottage living lace-up heels

rzenia : marsosims' hita hair / brianitesims' nicks sunglasses / paranormal top / huiernxoxo's roxy pants / jius-sims' retro flower boots

thank you to @birksche @fuckyeahunbichobolita @renorasims @dissiasims @linzlu @buzzardly28 @needleworkreve @gilded-ghosts @blueraptorsden @jools-simming @simadelics @historysims4 @nords-sims @dzifasims @simduction @fukkiemon @georgiapeachsims @ravensim @happylifesimsreblogs @serenity-cc @kismet-sims @jius-sims @marsmerizing-sims @marsosims and @huiernxoxo !!

#my sims #sims 4 lookbook #ts4 lookbook #ts4lookbook #sims 4 retro lookbook #ts4 retro lookbook #sims 4 1960s lookbook #ts4 1960s lookbook #223 years #historical #1960s

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lookedlikethebins · 6 months

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i'll say it twice

Finally! The long awaited Valentine's Day producer george x TA matty oneshot! I'm so sorry for taking as long as I did. Thank you for being patient AND a big thank you to the anon that inspired this fic with the prompt about matty coming to a club/one of george's dj gigs! [set ~6 months since meeting each other] ~5.8k words xo side note: i know nothing about being a DJ but a lot about cyclical anxiety and epic poems so i compensated xo

George had been semi-confident—and a bit overprepared—in his upcoming set, until Matty showed George the readings he’d suggested for the next week of class: Lover’s Discourse. The date of his set hadn’t registered until that moment, sitting with his arm around Matty and feeling embarrassed by his own obliviousness.

Valentine’s Day. Of course, the club wasn’t just holding an event to sell more drinks on a cold, mid-February Friday night; they were hoping to max their margins for the first quarter. For every one patron, there would undoubtedly be another—their date. George included.

The set had to be a bit beyond perfect.

For the next two weeks, each time Matty stopped by after his classes and office hours, George had been closed up in his studio. He would've been there most of the day, starting early in the morning (right after Matty left, if he’d stayed the night) and blowing past every mental stopping point in favor of fixing just this one last thing.

After Matty was left waiting outside for the third time, knocking and trying to ring George—phone on silent and face down on his desk—George gave him the spare key. Each time, Matty let himself in with a loud shout, letting the door slam shut; they’d learned George startled easily when he was working. When he was worried.

While Matty shouldered off his bag—as well as coat, scarf, sweater, and unbuttoned and rolled his cuffs—George would unplug his headphones and continue his work out loud. Matty often settled onto the loveseat beside George’s desk and leaned forward to best see George’s screens without hovering over his shoulder. Despite sometimes getting up to dance, Matty would never grow (outwardly) irritated when George would have to stop and adjust, redo, or take note of an idea for later. The only time Matty spoke during George’s work was to exclaim that a certain part of a song was his fucking favorite.

Most times, Matty’s excitable commentary was the reason George had to stop and make slight changes.

It would be Matty’s first time coming to see George work. Matty had asked if he could before—about other gigs and recent shows George was playing with the boys too—but George struggled to say yes. And thankfully Matty never pushed back or took offense when George stumbled over his answer. Granted, George had taken Matty to his label’s holiday party—and he’d been a hit—but his club set wasn’t for a closed group. There would be a room packed with people looking for the smallest pinhole in George’s quiet (misunderstood to be “stoic”) exterior, hoping to peep in on his private life.

But, even with all that fear and discomfort with the unfamiliar, it truly was sort of time for it, wasn’t it?

---

“Oh, fuck,” Matty said with a burst of laughter that seemed to surprise even him. “it’s loud.”

They had entered the club through the back entrance meant for employees. George made sure to pull around to the parking lot purposefully obscured by bins and out-of-place planted shrubs. They used the side streets and alleys of nearby buildings to get in without being seen by the group of patrons lined up outside, waiting to get in.

While George had been getting his bag out of the car, Matty stood by the hood, tapping his foot to the muffled beat sneaking through the club’s opening doors and sparse windows. But now, inside and standing on the farthest edge of the dance floor, Matty didn’t need to move his feet to the music; the floor was nearly moving for him.

It was what George loved the most: how the room, the physical space, came alive when music was loud—almost too loud. The air felt like it was breathing on its own from the shear pulse of the speakers.

It terrified George to think Matty might not like that feeling. The encasement of music. The ever-shrinking proximity to other people, while verbal communication became impossible and almost moot. All George ever had in those moments was the same unavoidable and inarguable beat moving him to keep time with the other bodies around him. That feeling of sharing the same heartbeat. He could live in the same suspended moment with someone, just a few minutes at a time.

“Is that… okay?” George said. He had steered Matty toward the back lounge for the invited guests and hired talent. Once George closed the door behind Matty, the wall of sound became a void, ringing white noise. “Do you want earplugs or something? I, uh, I probably have a pair somewhere. I’m sure I do.”

“No, no—I don’t mind that it’s loud. Just sort of forgot. Can’t tell you last time I’ve been to a proper club.” Matty placed his hand on George’s arm, gently squeezing it, before leading him further into the room and away from the door.

“Not a fan?” George asked. He immediately grabbed a bottle of water from the oblong coffee table. He twisted off the cap and handed it to Matty. It was Friday; he’d had his early and late classes.

“Just prefer a place I can sit down,” Matty shrugged. “And if I’m feeling wild: hear my friends talk.”

“You’re really not supposed to chitchat at a club.”

“Name another time I’ve been quiet that long, George.”

George paused. “Okay, so you might actually hate it here.” He was trying to tell a joke, but his chest tightened and twisted into a knot. Like he forgot how to create a laugh. He couldn’t.

“George, love, stop fretting—please? I’m starting to think I’m making you worse.” Matty swung his hand out to playfully hit George on the arm. The open water bottle made a small damp spot on his sleeve; luckily, he was only wearing a short sleeve, cotton shirt. “Pretty sure you’ve been doing all this before I ever showed up. You know what you’re up to—you’re very talented. I’m just here to listen, take a vow of silence, have a drink or two.”

“Oh, I should go get you one, shouldn’t I?” George muttered, looking at his watch and then the clock on the wall—they were a minute apart: George’s watch a minute behind. He was already floundering. The first time he brought Matty—any boyfriend at all for that matter—to one of his shows and everything felt like it was developing into a disappointment. A stumble. Two left feet. George could hear the music muffled in the other room; he just wanted to stand submerged in it.

“That—No, George. That’s not why I said that. I’m not angling for you to go and—Look, I just want to drink after I had to listen to someone wedge Ecstasy of Influence into our discussion for the third class in a row.”

“But I should go get them—they won’t charge me.”

“Oh, so it’s about showing off, not chivalry…” Matty said, offsetting his jaw as he crossed his arms and smirked at George.

“No! I—Matty, it’s Valentine’s Day," George said, taking out his phone. His phone matched his watch but not the wall clock.

“And you’re already going to get laid. I’m not sure why you think you have to butter me up—"

George sputtered in surprise and embarrassment as he heard someone talking just outside the door. “I meant, it’s Valentine’s Day so they’re going to be up-charging, I’m sure. Let me get you a drink. They don’t charge the people they hire.”

“You must not know what happens when a cute guy like me goes up to most bars,” Matty said, lifting one eyebrow. “I won’t pay for anything; Fuck, I’ll barely even need to be paying attention.”

George had never considered how Matty was as a single guy. He’d never really told him. Or maybe George had never asked. There wasn’t much for George to tell Matty, so maybe he’d forgotten people had dating histories that weren’t accidentally shallow or convenient. Had first loves before their late twenties.

The club owner opened the door while still finishing the tail end of his hallway conversation. “—on in twenty, okay? Yeah—George! Good to see you, early as always. What I like to see. JJ walked in five minutes before she was supposed to go on. Again.”

“She likes the spontaneity,” George said with a shrug, placing his bag down in one of the mismatched armchairs. “I can’t argue her style. She’s always great.”

“I just wish she could be spontaneous and not raise my blood pressure,” he said. “You ready to go on in half an hour?” George nodded, checking all three times again. “Great. Anything you need—you can go out and float around JJ when you’re ready. Get either of you a drink?”

“I’m okay, thanks,” Matty said. He placed a hand between George’s shoulders as he hunched down to look in his bag. George’s nervous energy was never something Matty could ignore. “George, did you want something? Or do you want me to get it for you.” Matty was teasing, probably feeling the tension in the muscles of George’s back. Maybe hoping for a laugh.

Instead, Matty’s kind and gentle smile—eyes following George’s hands as they continued to jostle everything in every pocket—was distracted by the owner’s follow up question: “I’m sorry—and I mean no disrespect—but who are you again? George, if this is a new label rep, I’m sorry I’ve forgotten again—”

“Label rep?” George turned toward Matty, who was still touching his back with one hand and had begun to hold his bicep lightly with the other. It was certainly no way to represent a professional relationship.

Matty looked down at himself. “I just came from teaching—Dammit, George, why didn’t you tell me I look like a corporate drone? Is it the tie? It is, isn't it?”

Finally, George smiled. The plane of his back under Matty’s hand relaxing as he laughed, shaking his head. “You don’t look like a drone, okay? And Matty isn’t my PR guy. He’s—” George had never actually called him his boyfriend in front of anyone before; at the holiday party, the moment everyone saw Matty walk in with George, they knew this was The Date George had after studio sessions so often. “He’s just here with me. No business.”

George couldn’t hear the music as clearly anymore, blood rushing in his ears. Matty moved his hand along George’s shoulder blades, slowly and soothingly. Finally, George’s fingers found the loose pair of foam earplugs in the front pocket of his bag. The last place left. He righted himself and held them out to Matty. He ignored the conversation he’d left paused with the owner for as long as it took Matty to tire from arguing he didn’t need them. He dropped his hand from George’s bicep to take them, his other hand not leaving George’s back.

The clock on the wall kept ticking, faster than the one on his wrist.

“Matty’s going to uh… he’s going to be up there with me.” George pointed loosely toward the door; he didn’t know what was out there, technically. Without being sure where the music was coming from, without being able to feel it faintly pulsing in his chest, he didn’t even know where the dancefloor was.

“Up where?” Matty asked.

“The stage. When I’m doing my set.”

“I didn’t think I would be allowed.” Matty shot the owner a quick look before adjusting his tie.

“Of course you are! But only if you want to. I won’t be offended if you’d much rather... not.” George wanted to give Matty the option to pick how he wanted to spend his evening. How to make it better without George intervening, even by accident, and making things worse—

“George,” Matty said softly. George blinked and realized the owner had already left the room; no commotion, no remark, no insistence Matty become part of the monolithic, pulsing, impersonal crowd. No pushback. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not a fucking idiot, you know that, right?” Matty said. He stood in front of George and placed both hands on his shoulders, as if keeping him planted on the ground. George didn’t know he’d been feeling an urge to pace until then. Until he couldn’t. “What’s got you this upset?”

“I always get nervous before I perform anything. You know that. You know me.”

Matty had been sitting on that studio couch every day for those two weeks. He’d been over when George accepted calls for other gigs and immediately interrupted his own train of thought to jot down his immediate thoughts and plans—afraid he’d forget the “genius” of the impulse. Afraid his instincts weren’t really instincts at all, just moments when inspiration would take pity on him.

While talking about his students’ coursework, Matty had told George about the idea of ancient Greek poets praying at the beginning of their works. Of asking the gods of inspiration—the muses, actually; George remembered feeling embarrassed by his own surprise and sense of clarity by this fact and connection—before embarking on their epics. The invocation, Matty had called it with a flourish of his hand.

Matty described it as if the idea was antiquated; no one thought creativity or inspiration was so out of their hands that it had to be requested at the beginning of every project. But sometimes, when George could feel expectations compounding and very separate things interconnecting into one daunting and terrifying moment, he wished there was someone he could hand things off to. Trust he had solid instincts when he was mid-set and suddenly becoming aware of his own hands and expression and body and position with the person next to him—the new DJ that just arrived and hovering too close and asking too many questions, but being so polite and was someone George should be very eager to show the ropes because he never had that... To trust he would have no need to second guess, critiquing himself for too long and missing the window to execute his plan. The swing of his set broken while George was left standing in horrifying, reverberating silence and—

“This isn’t nerves, George. You look like you might pass the fuck out. Or throw up. Maybe both.” Matty ran his hands across George’s shoulders and laced them together behind his neck, pressing their foreheads together. “It’s not me making you this anxious, is it?”

“No, of course not,” George said quickly. “I just want everything to be perfect—”

“Well, it can’t be.”

“I-I know. I know. Nothing can be perfect,” George mumbled, trying to echo Matty’s frequent and always kind encouragement. What George tried to remember when he was feeling his anxiety bind tighter with the feeling things were slipping out of his control. George had invoked Matty’s words a lot in the past week in particular. “Best-case scenario, then. I want the very best-case scenario. For you. I want you to have a good time and—”

“Do you not think I’m having a good time?”

“My set isn’t for another,” George looked at the clock on the wall only. “fifteen minutes. We’ve just gotten here and… literally stood in a room while I’m…” trying not to freak out or throw up or just blurt out that I— “That’s nothing very exciting.”

“Hey, that’s not all we did today; you picked me up from class, we had dinner, you let me read to you that botched essay intro, you told me about that tour invite and the boys, you invited me to see you do your job. George,” Matty stopped to reset his worried expression with another warm smile. “George, you do know you’re the reason I came, right? Not to experience the best DJ set of my life or have one too many and convince your band to dance with me, or even know any of the songs you’re going to play. I just came here because it meant spending time with you. And that’s why I’m having a good time. That’s it. This isn’t a performance review. I am not qualified for that in the slightest.”

“But—”

“George,”

“I’m not trying to argue,” George said. Matty nodded, moving both of their heads. Matty carefully ran one hand up and down the back of George’s neck, encouraging him to continue. “But… this is sort of your first… event with me. Next to me. Associated with me.”

“… And? We talked about this, right? It’s not industry people who know you, so I’ll have to be more… aware of what I’m doing. But just at first, like you said—I get it, George. I really do.”

“No, no. It has nothing to do with that… Or maybe it does. Fuck,” George stopped to take a breath, forcing it out through his pursed lips. “I want to do something you can be proud of. Be someone you don’t mind admitting is your date. I don’t want to embarrass you—"

“Embarrass?” Matty repeated with a soft but tense laugh. He cleared his throat and George could hear a sudden wetness sink his words. “What a preposterous fucking idea. And, actually, even more so: the idea I didn’t come here already proud of you. That I’m not already more than willing to walk out there and tell everyone who’s even remotely paying attention to me—free fucking drinks or not—” Matty gave them both the chance to laugh, the thickness falling away from Matty’s voice and some of the weight shaking off from George’s shoulders. “That I came here with you. I’ll go anywhere with you—anywhere you’re willing to have me.”

George dipped his head down to kiss Matty, quickly and without invitation for any lengthier response, considering the moment and environment. He wanted to say it. He wanted to tell Matty right then—without the expectation of anything in return. Just simply say. But that was sort of the point of the set. George hoped he could say it without the words; without the direct chance of rejection.

Matty kissed George on the cheek, hands sliding from his neck to smooth his collar and flip his silver earring so the engraving of the dagger’s hilt faced outward. His knuckle grazed George’s jaw as he stilled the jewelry from swinging.

“You’re going to be incredible—as you always are.” Matty said, holding the sides of George’s face. “Like, that’s not me setting a ridiculous bar. That’s actually sort of the baseline for you. Anything beyond that will just be genius—which, also very possible, I’m finding.”

George leaned against one of Matty’s hands—warm and firm and unflinching from the request for support—and sighed, a sense of relief hitting him.

George remembered what he was doing there. He could feel the music in the other room. He smiled. And Matty, the central reason for the tailoring of the next hour of George’s night, smiled back.

They waited in silence, George not trusting himself to say anything else. Not wanting to spoil it.

---

The music was too loud. But that was sort of the point. George was up on stage, feeling the rolling pulse of the room and the music, and didn’t have the space or sense in his head to hear himself think about anything other than just that.

The lights, flickering and flashing and swirling. The faces in the crowd—at least those he could make out—lighting up and excitedly reacting to the change in song, speaking to the person beside them—the only person who could hope to hear them.

The person beside him, waiting until George lowered his headphones to lean in to talk to him. Both of Matty's hands gently holding George's forearm. Matty's chest pressed against George's bicep and shoulder as he leaned in, trying to shout in his ear over the music coming from the speakers on all sides of them.

“I’m going to go get a drink, okay?” Matty said. George only understood when Matty pointed at the blue backlit bar directly across the dance floor. He’d been standing next to George for the entire first half of his set, enthusiastic and smiling. Bouncing and dancing. Trying to get George to do more than his usual simple sway to the music—Oh, come on! I know you know how to move your hips a bit better than that, love.

George gave him a thumbs up and a smile. Matty held up two fingers and lifted his eyebrows. He pointed to George’s empty glass resting on the low railing surrounding the raised stage platform. It had been a vodka soda that, thankfully, had barely had much of the first ingredient. George shook his head and nodded toward the bar with his continued smile.

Matty stepped down from the platform and began weaving his way around the dance floor. He avoided all the clueless drunk dancers, almost bodies possessed by the music, and nosey patrons that bothered to look up at the DJ and see the new face now walking among them, but managed to bump directly into Adam. Which meant within seconds, and a silent cheer of surprise, Matty had also found the rest of the band that had come: Ross, John, and Polly.

As if discussed beforehand, the moment they all saw Matty they collectively looked up at George and waved. As if they knew George would be watching Matty from the slightly higher vantage point. Because of course George was. He answered them all with a quick grin so they would turn away again. After a moment of gesturing and over-enunciated (but mostly unheard) sentences, Ross walked with Matty to the bar. The other three migrated to the side of the dance floor with a cementing nod and lift of a hand: We’ll wait right here.

Watching Matty struggle to get through the crowd to the bar, George quickly rearranged his mental lineup of songs. What use was Matty knowing—dating—the DJ if George played all his favorite songs while he stood in line, cramped in his reach for the bartender between Ross and the back of a guy with shoulders practically as wide as Matty was tall.

For a moment, being able to see Matty from a distance was sort of romantic. It was a thrill to be able to take all of Matty in at once—when most of their romance typically happened up close, barely enough distance for George to see the lips he was about to kiss. From his vantage point, George could watch Matty lean forward on the bar, his weight shifting onto his left foot with his right hovering just above the ground. Could watch as Matty began bouncing his foot with an unknown pulse of anxiety, impatience, or anticipation; George couldn’t see Matty’s expression to know.

George looked back at the decks, needing to focus to ensure his secondary ordering of songs transitioned smoothly. He looked back up at Matty—to see if he’d have to sub in another song before he was back on the dance floor—and saw him angled back toward the rest of the room, smiling and chatting, his face more in view. The only face George couldn’t see was that of the man talking to Matty, one hand braced against the bar railing and the other quickly—and so smoothly George barely noticed—fiddling with the end of Matty’s tie.

George checked his watch, trying to give himself somewhere else to look. He lowered his head and gave himself the chance to hide his flushing and crimson embarrassment. He didn’t mind someone else flirting with Matty—George couldn’t be upset with other men that fell under the very same spell he did after their first introduction. No, George felt embarrassed he’d seen them, that he had been watching at all. That he was observing when maybe Matty had no such idea. Exposing a moment perhaps Matty would rather not have George see; invading Matty’s privacy and knowing something Matty would always think George didn’t know. What a terrible basis for lo—

Finally, George looked back up. Resisting to do so almost like telling himself not to think of something—and only prompting further rumination. George saw Matty shaking his head, hand resting on his own chest, as if holding his heart. When the man nudged Matty’s foot with his own—yet something else George felt he should never have seen—Matty lifted his hand to point at George.

Four sets of eyes were now on him: Ross, Matty, the stranger, and now the bartender returning with Matty’s drink. George froze. He didn’t know what Matty had said about him in their conversation; he didn’t want to betray his point by doing the wrong thing. George had told Matty to keep things lowkey for the night while George acclimated to (very subtly) exposing his personal life, but with someone flirting with him why else would he be pointing at George? Surely, it was romantic sort of point—literal romantic gesture—right?

But how could George ensure Matty knew it was okay he brought it up, that he was happy and so proud to be up there but if only because it meant Matty could turn and point and mouth something that looked a hell of a lot like: that’s my boyfriend.

Before George could short-circuit much further, Matty put his fingers to his lips and blew George a kiss. He then folded his hand at the knuckles in a flapping wave. Almost like a joke. A tease. A giddy gesture that had George feeling like he was growing sunburnt under the minimal, flashing lights. A youthful, almost teenage, motion done with complete honesty and infatuation. For a moment, George felt relief, felt certain for a moment that his very ridiculous and overthought plan would work...

With his drink in hand—and small black straw between his lips—Matty started going back toward the rest of the group. His eyes were busy searching each face he passed for Adam or Polly he didn’t look back up at George at first. It was just as well; George was already so anxious, he was sure if Matty looked directly at him as the next song started, his entire heart would’ve dropped into his shoes. Maybe bruised, maybe shattered, maybe resilient enough to bounce back up.

Although, as the song started, George felt like his heart had stopped. Its internal pulse absent from his ears as the beat around them took over, pounding against his chest, ribs, temples. George dissolved into the music; hoping that the joy and repeatedly expressed excitement Matty had shown listening to it in George’s studio would appear on the dance floor in front of him.

Just one more time, George. Play that part just one more time… For me?

After a deep breath, George forewent any subtlety and made no effort to hide he was watching for Matty’s reaction. He pulled his headphones down around his neck. The sound diluted into the vastness of the room, in comparison to being fed directly into George’s ears, but he preferred it. He wanted the space and breathing room. At least for the moment.

Matty stopped his gesticulating and conversation with John, pausing as he registered the song. His pivot from speaking to emphatically starting to sing along was split-second. Adam stood sort of confused, amused, and dumbfounded as Matty’s apparently dire point faded away and he started dancing: swaying mostly his hips with the beat and holding his one arm up, while the other steadily held his drink in front of him.

Matty lowered his arm and went to take another sip just as the chorus was about to hit again, his usual stopping point when listening with George, but the song swung back around to the start of the verse. Just that part, one more time. For him.

Matty’s declared favorite, all over again. Right on time—jumping to that exact thump of the brutally danceable kick drum. George wasn’t sure Matty would even notice; he probably hadn’t heard the song that many times to know its structure the way George had to. Oh, maybe it was all a bit ridiculous to think—

But Matty had stopped dancing. His lips still moved along to the lyrics, but now like trying to whisper across the cacophony to George. The lyrics almost being stripped and returned to its poetic form. Spoken with slight disbelief.

While everyone else seemed slightly confused—feeling more betrayed by their memory than upset about any music decision or direction—Matty continued to melt right back into the song. Dancing just as he had, holding the back of George’s chair with gleeful distraction.

As George began to fade between the songs—no threat of the verse cycling a third time—Matty pushed his empty glass into Ross’s hands and began hurriedly snaking back through the crowd to the platform. Despite his evident excitement—shifting and shuffling his feet while he pulled at his sleeves—Matty still stood and waited for George to give a cue he was finished with his task at hand.

Admittedly, George wanted to stay in the momentary reprieve between his gesture, the reaction, and his direct confession—the purpose of it all. In that moment, he could only be relieved that he’d done it in the first place. He hadn’t yet had enough time to worry or feel embarrassed by his own ornately constructed vulnerability.

But if George stayed in that moment forever, he’d never hear Matty’s reaction. Good or bad, it would still be Matty. And that sure as hell beat a solitary moment of acquiescing to fear.

George lowered his headphones again and turned to Matty with the very best look of neutrality and obliviousness he could. Matty was looking back with that minute, timid smile: the one meant for George and almost undetectable by onlookers. A glimpse at the joy thrumming inside of him; almost too full to even attempt to express; settling for an undersell rather than falling short.

“Need something, Matty?”

“I love that song!” Matty leaned in toward George’s ear. His hand gently curled around George’s hanging safely under the table and out of view. He tugged and pulled George toward him, able to slightly lower—soften—his voice. “You know I love that song—thank you.”

“I-I wanted you to have a good time! A chance to know some songs—your favorites!”

“You didn’t have to do that—what about everyone else here?”

George pulled back to better see Matty’s entire face. “Yeah? What about them?”

Matty’s smile faltered as he lowered his eyes to George’s earring, now swinging in the air after being pressed down by his headphones. His lips parted as if he was going to speak but then pressed them back together.

“Matty,” George said, although not loud enough. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Hm?” Matty moved his fingers behind his ear—as if his hair was even remotely long enough—to politely hint he couldn’t hear George.

“I…” George cleared his throat, hoping it would still be there even if he couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear anything but the music flooding his body just like the flush creeping up his chest and over his cheeks. “I love you.”

“What?” Matty cupped his ear and leaned forward toward George.

George found himself repeating the sentence, but far softer. “I—I love you.”

Matty lowered his hand and looked at George with a furrowed brow. “I-I’m sorry, George. I can’t hear you!” He gestured toward his ears with splayed out hands, mimicking the pulsing, pounding soundwaves thudding against him from the surrounding speakers. “Don’t forget though, okay? Tell me later?"

George nodded, smiling. Like he could ever forget.

"Sure, yeah. Later!"

Like he was ever thinking about anything else.

---

After his set, despite the band congratulating him and offering a few rounds on them, George wanted to go home. Wanted to get out of the noise. He was beginning to feel spoken over, crowded, and pushed out by the thumping music—then even more so when it was no longer him behind the decks.

Thankfully—and once again forgetting the holiday—no one teased George for turning in earlier than them. He and Matty were able to be back in his car, sitting in the parking lot, thirty minutes after his set finished.

“George, you’re incredible, you know that right?” Matty was speaking too loudly, but George didn’t mind; his ears were ringing too. And it also meant Matty laughed a bit louder than he usually did, too. “I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in a very long time.”

“I’m glad you came,” George smiled, his own laugh sounding muffled to his ears but feeling stronger in his chest. Matty lifted himself from his seat to lean over the console and kiss George, quickly but firmly.

“Thank you for inviting me, George. I was happy to be there with you not on business,” he said. “Happy to be your date tonight. Proud to be—even if we’re still the only people here that really know I was.”

George thought about saying it again—a third time—but he didn't think he could stomach the trade of an oblivious, neutral response to his intended confession for open, undeniable, almost amplified (possible) rejection.

Instead, he kissed Matty again. He braced his hand on the console and caught Matty's lips again before he moved all the way back into the passenger seat. Matty broke the kiss—without pulling away—with a near-muffled, definitely mumbled confession of his own:

“I heard you, you know,” Matty said when George inquisitively pulled away at the sound spoken against his lips. “After you played my song—what I told you not to forget; I heard you. I-I just wanted to see if you’d say it again. If you wanted to—If you meant it.”

“Do—would you like me to... say it again?” George asked. It was a nicer response than quietly pleading, please don’t break my heart. I’m sorry if I—

“No, no, you don’t owe me another one," Matty held the sides of George's face, anticipating his emotional and physical retreat and apology. "Especially since I still haven’t answered.”

“You don’t have to right now. Let's just go home and—"

“George, I think I should tell the man I’m in love with that I do love him, don’t you? Seems like a reasonable thing to do.”

George reached for Matty's face, holding him and trying to get a good look at the man in love with him. Trying to spot the moment Matty would break, would maybe lie and soften what he'd admitted to. Matty held his joyful—and increasingly teary—look at George.

"You do?"

"Yes! Yes, George. I love you! Of course I do." Matty laughed and pulled George in again. His hands dropped from holding George's face to rest flat on his chest. Feel the beat of his heart.

"Wait," George muttered, turning his face to break the kiss but not pull away. "Say it one more time... For me?"

#gatty #gatty fic #matty x george #george daniel x matty healy #producer george and TA matty fic #andfacedown fics #(not yet i know but shh)#producer george oneshot #THANK YOU for waiting & enjoy MWAH!!

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crystallizabethine · 2 years

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Dance With You: A Lavashipping Oneshot

Happy White Day!!! I had Cole/Kai A pairing for the @ninjago-valentine-exchange event!

Summary: Kai and Cole go to an LGBT dance and are cute together. Also Kai hasn't told Nya they're dating...

(2,531 words)

“Hey Kai guess what!”

Kai looked up from his phone as Cole came over and plopped down next to him on the couch. His boyfriend’s eyes were bright and he looked very pleased about something.

“What?”

Cole thrust two slips of paper towards Kai, “There's a LGBT+ dance happening at Laughy's Karaoke Bar tonight, and I got us tickets!”

Kai took the tickets from Cole and examined them. They were thicker than he thought they’d be. A glittery overlay shimmered over their surfaces as Kai read the words Admit One: Pride Prom! Food! Drink! Fun! 7:00-Midnight (ID required for alcoholic beverages)

Kai rubbed his thumb over the smooth, shiny slips, doubt in the back of his mind. “Cole, this is… really sweet of you, but you do know I don't know how to dance, right?”

“That's okay, I can teach you some moves! Besides, there's no one right way to dance, you just got to feel the music and let yourself move with it.” Cole let his arms wiggle around as he said that, and Kai smiled despite his initial qualms. Cole was just too adorable to resist.

“If you say so,” Kai answered, then immediately followed up with “Oh shoot, what should I wear?”

“I don't think it really matters,” Cole replied. “I mean it is a pride event, so, something gay?”

“Alright, Kai, something gay, something gay… something…gay…” Kai stared at the jumble of shirts on his unmade bed. So far all he’d found were some t-shirts, old ninja ghis from past seasons, and a sweater vest that he was pretty sure was actualy Zane’s. Despite that possibly being the gayest piece of clothing in the room, Kai didn’t even consider it. It was a bit too dorky for his taste.

Kai sighed and rubbed his chin in thought. Cole had said that dressing fancy wasn’t a requirement, but he’d forgotten one small thing about dating Kai: He was dating Kai, and Kai didn’t go anywhere looking only half his best. Kai turned back to the messy bed, rubbing his hands together, “Let’s do this!”

“Do what?”

Kai’s hands produced a sudden startled spark of flame, and he felt his insides shift as he whirled around to see Nya in the doorway, one hand on her hip, looking at him in curiosity.

“Oh, uhm, nothing! It’s nothing!” He started gathering up the shirts while still maintaining eye contact with his sister, “Just getting rid of some old shirts! Gonna revamp my wardrobe. Can’t have Jay owning more nice outfits than me, amiright?” Kai hoped his unsuspicious smile didn’t look as fake as it felt.

Nya puffed at some stray bangs that had fallen over her eye, “Are you going clothes shopping with Cole then? He mentioned you two were going out later.”

Oh he did, did he? Kai nodded, “Yeahp! Gonna drop off our old clothes at a thrift store, shop around, hit the arcade—bro stuff.”

“Ok, have fun! Jay and I are going out later too, so maybe we’ll run into each other!”

I highly doubt that.

Before Nya could say anything else, Jay’s voice rang out from across the hall, “Nya, have you seen my Miku binder?”

“Did you leave it in my room?”

Before Kai could question why Jay’s binder would be in her room, Nya had disappeared, leaving him alone with his sorry pile of unfancy clothes.

Kai picked up a red hoodie he hadn’t noticed before. The fabric sported a scaley flowery pattern, and there were flame designs going up the back and down the arms. Kai held it up to himself. “Welp, it could be gayer, but it’s the best we got.” Kai pulled the hoodie over his head and checked himself out in the mirror. He looked more cozy than fancy, but Cole was always telling him how cuddly he looked anyways so he supposed it wasn’t the end of the world. Though now that he looked closer at the pattern, he was reminded of one of Nya’s outfits, which gave him an idea…

“I can’t believe you stole Nya’s clothes!”

“Ah—hey, no, I borrowed them. Bor-rowed. There’s a difference, babe.” Kai checked his reflection in the rearview mirror of Cole’s car to make sure his eyeliner hadn’t smudged. It hadn’t and Kai winked at himself, grinning. “What do you think, Cole, Do I look pretty enough for you?”

Cole kept his eyes on the road, “I already told you you look amazing, but yes, Kai,” he stole a quick glance before looking ahead again, “Who knew a boob window would look so good on you?”

“I know!” Kai answered, “And she just had it in the back of her closet! I’ve never even seen her wear it before!” They paused at a stoplight. Daylight was nearly gone by now and the red glowed pleasantly on everything.

“You know,” Cole hesitated, “She probably would’ve given it to you if you’d asked.”

It was Kai’s turn to look ahead. His boyfriend was right, of course Nya would have. But she also would’ve wanted to know what he was dressing up for, and that… He sighed; he just wasn’t ready to tell her. He wanted to. He wanted to tell her everything about him and Cole, about how much he loved him, about the special times they spent together. But any time he imagined telling her there was a weight in his stomach that wouldn’t leave.

The strong warmth of Cole’s hand on his pulled him out of his thoughts. Cole squeezed gently, “It’s gonna be okay, Kai. Whenever you’re ready to tell her, she’ll understand.”

Kai smiled softly and held onto his hand the rest of the drive.

A giant rainbow banner hung above the entrance to Laughy’s, and balloons floated on either side of the doors. The music could be heard from outside and Kai hoped it wouldn’t be too loud in there.

“Fun fact, I’ve never been to a prom before,” Kai said after Cole had turned in their tickets.”

“And I’ve never been to one with a guy before!” Cole replied, eyes shining with excitement.

“Wait, really? Handsome guy like you?”

Cole shrugged, “I wouldn’t have gone at all if Dad hadn’t made me. He’d say that ‘no son of mine will miss an opportunity to outshine potential dance competitors under my watch!’”

"Pfft" Kai knew that Cole’s dad was trying to be better, but stories like these made him lowkey want to fight him.

“Him expecting me to go with girls didn’t help either.”

Kai winced in sympathy. Not there was anything wrong with girls, girls were amazing, cool, and pretty! But it must have sucked for Cole if he’d wanted to ask cute boys out instead.

Inside, the music was even louder, and the bar was decked out in sparkly streamers and colorful, rotating neon lights. There were people in different outfits standing around, dancing, and getting food from the bar. Kai saw Dareth serving drinks and vibing to the music when there was no one to be served. Near where Kai and Cole had entered, there was a photo setup with a cute background and a table to the side that was filled with silly trinkets and accessories to be used as props.

Kai tugged his boyfriend towards it excitedly, “Come on!” Once they were over there, Kai pulled out his phone to take some selfies of them. His breath hitched in surprise when Cole kissed his cheek for one of them., and Kai poked him in the ribs in the spot he knew was ticklish in response. This made Cole squeak at a higher pitch than either of them were expecting, and they both cracked up. Kai then remembered the props and grabbed some fancy glasses. Cole donned a hat that looked like a rotisserie chicken and handed Kai a sign that said “I can't dance” in a silly rainbow font.

After many, many more silly pictures, they turned their attention to the dance floor where a dozen or so couples were throwing it down to upbeat disco music. Cole looked at Kai excitedly and pulled him onto the floor.

Kai was elated to finally be there, but the music was extremely loud and pounded in his ears uncomfortably and he worried that he wouldn't be able to do this after all.

No, you can do this. This is really important to him.

However, the pounding in his skull needed to stop. “Hey Cole, could we move a little further away from the speaker?”

“What?” Cole asked over the noise.

Kai pulled him closer and repeated himself.

“Oh yeah sure!” Kai guided him as far away from the speakers as he could while still keeping them in the dance area.

Once they’d established their place in the room, Cole immediately started busting out moves. Compared to him, Kai felt stiff and awkward. He was still vibing with the music, but he couldn't help feeling eyes watching him from all around.

Don't focus on that, he told himself, focus on Cole. Focus on us. This is our night; it shouldn't matter what others think.

He found himself captivated by the way Cole danced. He did it so naturally, letting his body move to the beat and letting the music flow through him. It reminded Kai of how he looked when he was connecting with his powers, except more elegant and fluid. Cole was one with himself and his movements, and he was beautiful. Kai imagined that it was just the two of them there, and felt himself loosen up significantly.

“Feel the music and let yourself move with it.” Cole’s voice echoed in Kai’s head and he closed his eyes, leting himelf get lost to the current song’s beat.

His eyes flung open again when Cole suddenly decided to grab his hands and spin him around like a top and dip him. Kai found himself supended inches from the ground as his boyfriend’s golden brown eyes stared into his own.

Kai grinned, “Hello there!”

“Pfft, you’re a dork,” Cole responded with a small laugh as he pulled Kai back up to a standing position and held him close.

Kai’s heart melted at how cute Cole looked when he laughed, and he had half a mind to kiss that smile of his. Their faces were already so close… Cole seemed to have the same idea, because his eyes fluttered shut and he and leaned in, his lips parted slightly. Kai was about to meet him halfway, but right before he closed his eyes, he caught sight of two familiar figures entering the bar.

“Cole, there’s a problem,” He whisper yelled, feeling panic claw at his insides.

Cole looked at him in concern, “What, does my breath smell or something?”

“No, Nya and Jay are here!”

“What?” Cole glanced past Kai and his eyes widened in recognition.

Kai squeezed Cole’s hand, “What do we do?”

“Welp, face the music, I guess, cause Jay is waving at us.”

“WHAT?”

Kai’s mind was racing. He had to leave; he couldn’t let Nya see him. He wasn’t ready—oh my gosh they were coming this way…

“…and I mean now that I think about it, if they’re here at a pride event then there’s really nothing to worry about, right?” Kai barely heard Cole’s attempts to reassure him, because he’d locked eyes with Nya, who was giving him an unreadable look. Kai gulped, those looks were always the most worrisome with her.

Jay waved again as they got closer, “Hey, Kai! Cole! Didn’t expect to see you here!”

“Jay, bro!” Cole replied, and fist bumped him. Nya eyed Kai intentionally as their respective boyfriends continued talking, and Kai followed her to a quieter part of the bar, bracing himself for whatever his sister was about to say.

Nya looked him dead in the face, “Why haven’t you told us you two were together? Why didn't you tell me? I'm your sister. We’re supposed to tell each other stuff like this!”

“I dunno,” Kai mumbled, not making eye contact, “I guess I was worried you’d be upset for some reason.”

“Where did you get that stupid idea?” Nya asked, indignantly. “I’ve known you and Cole have been dating for months now, and you are perfect for each other! I’ve been waiting for you to tell me, but apparently you don’t trust me enough! Again, I'm your sister! I support you no matter what.” Nya pulled her brother into a hug, “I want you to be happy, Kai, you deserve it, especially after all we’ve been through. And I’m here for you if you ever need to talk about this stuff.”

Kai felt a bit of moisture in his eyes and returned the hug, holding onto Nya tightly. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. You really are the best sister, you know that?” He whispered.

“Oh, I know it.”

Kai snorted in amusement and Nya let go first. Kai then remembered, “I am confused though, why are you and Jay here? Aren't you straight couple?”

Nya looked at him funnily, “Jay is trans man Kai. It's an LGB-T prom, not just a gay prom.”

Kai slapped his hand against his forehead, “I don't know why I keep forgetting that. You are totally right!”

“Also, if you ever steal my clothes without my permission again, I will bust out your baby pictures to show Cole.”

“Oh no, anything but that!” Kai responded, half-jokingly, “but noted.”

A more calming, romantic song began to play, and Kai was suddenly pulled away from Nya and found himself face to face with Cole, who put a hand on his waist and began guiding him through simple dance steps. They swayed from side to side, gazing into each other's eyes. Cole was smiling at him with the cutest look of adoration on his face.

“What are you smiling at?” Kai asked him with a raised eyebrow and a curious smirk.

“Just about how gorgeous you are,” Cole answered.

Kai felt his face flush and he sputtered, “Yeah? Well, you are... really… rockin’?” Kai winced at how lame that sounded, but it just made Cole laugh.

“Oh my gosh that sounds like something Jay would say.” He snorted.

Kai looked Cole in the eyes, “Come on, give me a break. I’m used to being the one saying the smooth pick up lines, not the one getting them said to me!”

“You’re adorable. Hey, how’d it go with Nya?”

“She said she figured it out months ago.”

Cole chuckled, “Of course she did, can’t hide anything from her.”

Kai looked over at his sister—who was totally stealing the spotlight with Jay as they did their special dance routine—and smiled, “She also said we’re perfect for each other.”

“Damn right we are!” Cole pressed a kiss to Kai’s temple, “I love you so much, Kai!”

Kai knew that he would never get tired of hearing Cole say that to him. He pressed his forehead against Cole’s and replied, “I love you too, more than anything.” Then Kai kissed him on the dance floor, surrounded by people just like him, finally unafraid of what anyone would say.

Thank you for reading!!

The art I based the fic on was made by the talented @ninjapolis and can be found HERE.

The A03 version of this fic can be found HERE.

#ninjago valentine exchange #ninjago oneshot #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago fluff #kai x cole #cole x kai #lavashipping #ninjago lavashipping #hallo i'm here i'm queer i've fallen down the lavashipping hole and don't mind it here #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #ninjago nya #ninjago jay #trans jay #gay cole #bi kai #buncha fruit ninjas lmao

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sulfur-eyes · 2 years

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Valentine’s Day Steddie because I said so.

Eddie had never been great with words, they elude him more often than not and he finds himself stumbling and tripping over his own words. Valentine’s Day has never been his favorite for one reason or another. After everything has died down they have the ability to actually celebrate. Christmas was wonderful, new years was a hoot, so what about Valentine’s Day? Eddie’s at his favorite comic store looking for a new set of dice when lo and behold he finds. DND Candy Heart enamel pins. They have stupid phrases like “stop dragon my heart around” “let’s hold mage hands” “join my party?” One that simply says “I love you” These were better than words, better than anything he could say.

He scoops up the package and buys it fast, forgetting about his five plans. The week leading up to Valentine’s Day Eddie gives a few of his closest party members some hearts. Max gets Favored Frenemy, Will gets the mage one, Dustin gets “chaotic adorable” etc etc. everyone loves them. Awesome. Now all he has to worry about is how to give one to Steve. He’s saved the “I love you” one for him because it’s straightforward, and words that he’s too nervous to say.

Valentine’s Day night Eddie and Steve are in the back of his van, doors open as they stare at lovers lake. They’re both a little high, but not at all out of it. “Hey- uh.. I’ve got-“ Eddie rummages in his pocket, Steve peers over in question. Because what mystery was Eddie going to produce out of his pocket. He produces the little pin, it glints in the moonlight, catching on the raised words.

I love you.

Eddie is visibly warm in his jacket, his face red as the pin clinks against his rings. Steve looks confused, then surprised, happy, then something that Eddie couldn’t place. “Do you mean it?” Steve’s voice is hardly above a whisper, like if he spoke too loud he may break. “No I’m yanking your chain- yes I mean it.” He says a little too briskly, he can feel his hands shaking and wishes Steve would just take the pin so he could fidget his worries away. And he does. Plucks the pin up like it’s a diamond and examines it close. Did that mean yes?

And somehow Steve finds the words easier than Eddie does, they feel foreign on his tongue but he knows they belong just like any of the others do.

“I love you too.”

The rest of the night is spent curled up in the back of that van, atop blankets while sharing quiet whispers and little giggles that would stay between them.

Steve puts the pin on his favorite yellow sweater, the pink stands out nice. Who knew Valentine’s Day could be a nerd holiday.

#eddie #eddie munson #steddie #steve #steve harrington #stranger things #don’t ask me about the spacing I dunno what’s going on

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maxtothemax · 7 months

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Be My Valentine

Just some Zipper and River being cute and queerplatonic on Valentine's Day.

Zipper probably would've ignored Valentine’s Day if it wasn't for River. To them, the holiday was just a dumb excuse for couples to do gross, romantic stuff with each other and shove it in everyone else’s faces. But River thought of it more as celebrating all kinds of love, especially friendship. When he was a kid, he loved exchanging little cards with the other kids at the Foundation and getting candy—which was something, of course, that Zipper never really got to experience. Zipper had to admit, River’s version of Valentine’s Day sounded a lot nicer than everyone else’s take on it. The idea of celebrating it with River, just as friends, sounded kinda fun.

And yet they felt inexplicably nervous as they sat on the couch with their gift for him, waiting for him to get home from work. The gift was stuffed unceremoniously into the only gift bag they could find, with the edges peeking out, and even though River wasn't even here yet, they already felt self-conscious about the whole thing. They weren't sure if he was going to like it, and they probably should’ve gotten something to actually wrap it with while they were out, and he probably didn't get them a big gift, either, so what if this made him feel bad?

They took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. It's fine, you're good, don't overthink it. Then they heard the key in the front door, and their heart rate skyrocketed anyway.

River appeared in the doorway a minute later, holding a brown paper bag. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Zipper shoved the gift bag behind their back and smiled. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” they said, eyeing the bag in River’s arms. “Is that for me?”

“Yep!” He sat down and dug around in the bag before producing a small red envelope. He presented it to them with a grin on his face.

They opened the envelope and slid out the card. On the front was a cartoony picture of a bird. You make my heart sing! it said across the top. They laughed. “Aww, that's corny.”

River was almost bouncing with excitement. “Open it!”

The text in the card just said Happy Valentine’s Day! Underneath, in River’s handwriting, it said, To my best friend in the whole world! I love you! Love (again), River.

A warm feeling flooded Zipper’s chest. They didn't know what to say, so they went with, “Aw, thanks, River.”

He beamed, and then deposited the paper bag in their lap. Inside were multiple bags of sour gummies. “I got all your favorites,” he said.

They gasped. “Even the sour gummy bears!” Those were always sold out when Zipper went to look for them.

He shrugged, trying to look humble. “I got lucky.”

They put the bag aside on the coffee table. His gift was so nice, and it made them even more nervous about theirs. “I got you something, too.” They couldn't make eye contact as they shoved the gift bag towards him. “Sorry about the wrapping. But you said you didn't have any Valentinesy clothes to wear, so …”

It was pretty obvious what was in the bag, but River politely took out the card wedged in the side first. It had a cartoon picture of a fish on it that said, You're my favorite fish in the sea, except Zipper crossed out the word sea and wrote river instead. On the inside they just signed their name. River laughed. “Aww, that's cute, thank you!” Then he turned to the bag, and Zipper couldn’t look.

He gasped as he pulled the sweater out of the bag. It was loosely-knit and light pink—not the type of thing River would usually wear, but something that Zipper thought (hoped) he might like. Out of the corner of their eye, they watched him hold it up in front of him. “Oh, it’s so cute!” Almost immediately, he pulled it on, his blond head popping out from the neck. He beamed at them. “I love it!”

They grinned, feeling relieved. They were worried it wouldn’t fit, but the sleeves fell past River’s wrists; it was perfectly oversized. He looked adorable in it, and Zipper found themself blushing as they rubbed the back of their neck. “Yeah, I just saw it at the thrift store and thought …”

“I’m gonna go look in the mirror.” River practically leapt off the couch and rushed to the bedroom. Zipper laughed as they trailed behind him. He was acting like a little kid; he hardly ever got this excited.

In the bedroom, River twisted in front of the full-length mirror, admiring the sweater. He smiled at their reflection behind him. “This is so sweet.” He hugged himself, then twirled around to face them. “Thank you, Zipper! Can I hug you?”

They nodded, and he embraced them. They rested their chin on his shoulder and inhaled. “You smell like thrift store.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll have to wash it, I guess.” He squeezed them before pulling away. “This is so nice.”

“It looks cute on you.”

The compliment made him blush. “Thanks.” His eyes flickered away in embarrassment, but then settled back on Zipper. “Can I kiss you?”

They nodded, and they felt their own face flush as he gently took their face in his hands and kissed their cheeks. “You’re very excited today,” they murmured, letting their eyes flutter shut.

His thumbs brushed their cheeks. “Well, I like Valentine’s Day—and I like you.” He paused, then quickly added, “As a friend, of course.”

“Of course.” They’d been over that enough times; Zipper trusted River to be honest about his feelings. They settled their hands on his waist. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

They felt his lips curve into a smile against their cheek. “And I’m glad you’re here to celebrate with me.”

They couldn’t help rolling their eyes. “You’re so sappy.” But, when his lips finally wandered over to theirs, they gladly kissed him back.

#they speak #zipper & river #oc: river #zipper the bird #wip: on the wing #these two make me so 🥺💞💖💘#(also i absolutely did not proofread so if you saw typos no you didn't <3)#valentine's day #i hope everyone has a lovely day #i personally will be over in the corner sobbing about these two

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vorondoloknittingco · 2 years

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The Story of the Harry Styles Cardigan

Now worn by recording artist Harry Styles, the JW Anderson patchwork knitting cardigan has been confirmed to join V&A's fashion collection.

The hand-knitted cardigan sparked a sensation that became a TikTok trend after Styles wore it in rehearsals on NBC's Today show in February 2020. During quarantine, fans of the star created their own ingenious versions of the cardigan and shared it on the social media platform using the hashtag #harrystylescardigan. The hashtag has surpassed 100 million views to date, and Jonathan Anderson, Creative Director of JW Anderson, was so impressed by the cardigan response that he posted the pattern and tutorial on how to do it online.

Harry Styles' gender-neutral, fun and experimental approach to fashion has played a huge role in developing his distinctive personality as an artist. Her often flashy style choices constantly push the boundaries that make her one of the most influential style icons of her generation. The backlash to Styles, who wore colorful knitted cardigans, triggered a cultural phenomenon that touched on the power of creativity and social media to bring people together in times of extreme adversity.

Thanks to Harry Styles cardigan, people have once again appreciated handmade cardigans and sweaters. This unisex cardigan has become the favorite cardigan of Harry Styles fans. People loved this hand-knitted cardigan color. Oversized patchwork cadigan is a great choice these days for people to gift to their friends, lovers, siblings and children. You can choose this unique cardigan as a birthday gift, you can gift it to your lover on Valentine's Day, you can gift it to your mother on Mother's Day, and on many other special occasions, this hand-knitted cardigan can be your number one choice.

Thanks to this chunky cardigan, Harry Styles fans are able to connect with the artist and feel closer to Harry. They feel more special and happier wearing this boho cardiga while listening to Harry's songs and going to his concerts. One of the most special aspects of the cardigan is that it can be used as both a men's cardigan and a women's cardigan for women. Cardigan appeals to many, including LGBTQ people with colorful personalities, and is appreciated by a very wide range of people.

The cardigan also reflects Jonathan Anderson's experimental approach to knitwear in his collections and his advocacy of the craft environment. By making the cardigan pattern available on his website, he encouraged many more people to try their hand at creating a crochet cardigan for themselves. It is perfect to be able to add this oversized cardigan to our collection of sweaters and cardigans that represent his approach to design and document this moment over time.

Harry Styles cardigan has also moved to the digital platform! Unchangeable tokens, known as NFTs, are very popular this year. Most of the popular fashion and clothing brands have moved the clothes they design into the digital space. One of the latest brands to bring fashion to the digital space was JW Anderson. The NFT of the knitted cardigan popularized by Harry Styles, now known as the Harry Styles Cardigan, was also produced.

The impressively realistic interpretation of the famous cardigan that lasted so long was realized using graphics equal to those used in the Marvel universe. This multi-colored knitted cardigan has ignited a crocheting trend of astronomical proportions on TikTok.

#harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harries #vintage #sales #cute

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customsweaterproducer · 1 month

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apathyandmischief · 7 months

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I haven't seen this done and it might be too niche, but I don't care and I want to do it so I am.

Burlesque Ask Game!

What's your stage name? What does it mean?

Lizzie Blaze. My middle name is Elizabeth and my partner's stage name ends with Blaze as well (based on his native name, Blazing Path) so I stole it lmao.

When did you make your debut?

October of 2019! I can't believe I'm headed up on five years doing this :')

Why do you do it?

For the rush, honestly. I grew up loving burlesque and old school pin up and always wanted to try it. It's such a heady, powerful feeling to command a stage. Also for all the shy girls who come up to me after my shows!! They're the best and like my reason to live!!!

Do you ever get stage fright?

I do! Nearly five years in and I still wonder what the fuck I'm doing every time I get on stage.

What's your pre-show ritual?

Panic, run through everything in my head, overthink, and if my sweet angel of a con bestie is there, get fed drinks 😭

First routine?

This is so fucking basic and everyone does this, but Jessica Rabbit 🥲

Last routine?

The last one I did was Miss Frizzle to Hot For Teacher. I loved it, the audience loved it, but my partner did not and kinda got upset with me over it (I went too far, in his opinion. He's a cishet man, so we've grappled with jealousy and internalized toxic masculinity. We both prefer I perform to a queer audience bc he's okay with me interacting with women and I prefer that anyway, but it's not always possible. We've worked it out though). Had a mini crisis and took a brief hiatus after that, but I'm back in it now.

Favorite routine?

That's such a toss up! I think either my Vegas showgirl inspired Vulpix routine to a custom mix of Bumps & Grinds by Sonny Lester and Fast Girls by Atom Smith, or my gay ass Daphne Blake routine to Crimson and Clover by Joan Jett (featuring Velma's sweater).

Dream routine?

God what I wouldn't give you have a femme partner to do gay routines with. I would LOVE to do a Loki and Mobius to Casual Affair by P!atD (I already have it choreographed) or a deeply dramatic and skillful Freddy and Nancy routine to the VCTRYS cover of Come To My Window. I also want to do a badass showgirl Oogie Boogie with a burlap blacklight costume that has a big ass bustle, break away corset with bugs, snake eye dice pasties, and a fuck all huge witch hat that has a roulette table underneath.

Favorite costume?

Definitely my Vulpix. I've already said it so much but it's just so showgirl! It's a gold corset, puff sleeve wrap top, open front bustle skirt, boa "tail", gold gloves, black stockings, red garter, and red strappy lingerie. After the aforementioned crisis though, I threw half of it away and I hate myself for it

Favorite prop?

I don't typically use props, but we have this magic act cane that like pops out (I'm so bad at explaining things jfc) that's super fun

Favorite reveal?

When I did a Grinch routine a while back, I had a pair of panties that said "I kissed Santa" 😈

Plain pasties or tassels?

I am not skilled with tassels 🥲

Upbeat or slow burn?

Usually I go for upbeat! But I do love a good slow burn sometimes

What's your style?

Definitely neo-burlesque, because I primarily do cosplay burlesque. But I love adding classic influence with big band jazz and sparkly outfits and classic inspired moves

Do you still/did you ever kitten?

I actually skipped that step in my burlesque journey? But I host and produce now, so I'll happily jump up and kitten for my cast whenever needed

Inspirations?

I really love Lavendelle, Ginger Valentine, and the Les Vixens troupe!

Best performer you know personally?

Her name is Peachy Sweets and she's the biggest sweetheart and worthy of so much love, she's just the best 🥲💖

Do you have a stage mom? Are you a stage mom?

I don't have one, but I've dragged so many people into my world and now I love playing stage mom behind the scenes!

Plug your next show! (If you're comfy sharing location based details)

I don't have specifics for the next one yet, but I run the burlesque shows at my local comic con and can always be found there!

#burlesque #cabaret #performers #burlesque dancers #idk what else to tag this with #but share with your burly pals!!#I'd really love to see y'all's answers!!!

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the-expose-on-girls · 1 year

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It's called

A summer storm

Not

The beginning of autumn

By now, you may be thinking that this is a weird topic to get on a soapbox about and a weird hill to die on. Allow me to explain.

Summer is objectively one of the best times of the year for reasons too numerous to list in their entirety. Vacation from school, weather that causes zero problems or inconveniences, low electric bills, no need to cover up cute outfits with a coat, long daylight hours, seasonal depression be gone, sleeping with the fan on, leaving the windows open for fresh air all day, outdoor swimming spaces actually feel nice, going outside barefoot, no before/after school traffic, free food on the roadsides in the form of blackberries, having meals outside, I could go on. Summer is generally happy, carefree, and easy.

The second a leaf falls from its branch or the sky clouds over, these girls---all mass produced by the same cookie cutter---swarm social media en masse to wish death upon the happiest time of year, to put the cabosh on the party. Why? Because they lack the patience to wait until it's actually their favorite time of year. "Everything in its time" means nothing to them. To them, it's not a summer storm, it's not a tree withering in the summer drought, it's the first signs that pumpkin season is back in full swing.

The longer you draw something out and the more normally you participate in it, the less special it becomes. Christmas movies are no longer an anticipated holiday tradition when you watch them all year round. If Valentine's Day decor was up all year, I think everyone---not just the single people---would grow to hate it, eventually. Fourth of July fireworks go from exciting to annoying when the whole week prior has been full of random and startling explosions. As with all of the above, Autumn and everything that goes with it becomes dreary, mundane, and tiresome when celebrated July through November---unless you're a delusional basic white girl who's addicted to pumpkin flavor as artificial as their eyelashes.

They are so eager for the time of year that they thrive in that they have deluded themselves into thinking that time of year starts months earlier than it actually does. So they crank up the air conditioning, break out the sweaters, pour themselves a cup of pumpkin-flavored brew, and spam social media with "aesthetic" pictures.

So there you have it. These pumpkin worshipers are delusional party poopers straight out of the basic white girl clone factory.

#basic white girl #christian girl autumn #dumb girls #pumpkin spice addicts

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bomber2jacket · 1 year

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Where to wear the B3 Bomber jacket

The b3 bomber jacket is used by many people to improve their personalities in front of close friends. It provides a charming look for the wearer. The leather jacket plays a major role in fashion. The b3 Sheepskin bomber jacket offers a decent look. Also, girls in our generation love leather bomber jackets.

It is used most often on colder days such as September to March. The reason for this is because cold during this time was at its peak. People love to wear clothing that feels warm and protects from the chill. This is why a bomber coat is the best choice. This attire can be worn in more than eight of the events mentioned above. It can usually be worn when you feel chilled, like most people do between 6 pm and 9 am. Anyone can see that a bomber coat can be worn on cold days. However, it should also look fashionable and trendy. The simple answer to that question is "Yes."

"Yes, it can be worn in every age to radiate your personality in front a group of friends or family. It's always trendy, durable, and stylish in winter and autumn.

There are thousands of people on the market that can sell their outfits via different platforms, such as Amazon, eBay, Etsy and other online sites. We suggest you shop at Maher Leather for your outfits. Maher Leather original b3 bomber jacket are a unique product in the mens' category. The unique stitching, packaging, and gift-giving options make it easy to send Valentine's Day gifts. You can order it to gift your spouse, family, and boyfriend. These high quality outfits are only available if you visit the shop. It is physically located at the UK. It offers its online services via its website. They provide free shipping to all countries and are also an extremely trusted platform for payment.

Four places where you could wear a B3 Bomber jacket

Party Wear

Fashionable clothing is a way to appear more trendy at a gathering. The b3-bomber jacket is a timeless style that has been around for decades. The B3 jacket is an ideal choice to wear to parties to impress his audience. The unique collar features two leather straps. The outfit's heavy-duty furliner makes it stand apart from other leather ones. It is luxurious and gives off a rich appearance. You can pair it with slim-fit jeans and a fun tee, for a trendy look. The men's b3 sheepskin sweater jacket can be worn with your regular shoes.

Casual wear

If we are going to buy a bomber jacket b3, then we all wish it would be used for a regular basis. Because every day, the dangers of the cold outside are increasing. It is a lie that people cover their bodies with clothing or leather, such as a jacket or coat. This jacket is ideal for casual wear and can also be used in the daily routine. Maher Leather also makes b3 Jackets with 100% genuine sheepskin leather. This ensures exceptional durability. Sheepskin can be lighter and more flexible then other types.

Feel Cold

Because of their warming capabilities, B3 Bomber Jackets are extremely fashionable. This outfit comes with the original leather jacket, which is also very warm. It also includes a shearling interior fur. They are combined to produce extremely warm features, which can keep a person warm even at -10.

College & Universities Clothing

It's a fashionable time for youth to wear leather jackets, especially b3 bomber jackets, to university and collage. It is the best spot to showcase your personality before friends and professors.

These are the perfect places to wear leather jackets b3 bomber bomber. We invite you to take the time to read it and offer your valuable feedback.

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basiccortez · 3 years

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Baby series: The Reveal

note: Happy Valentines Day! It's the moment y'all have been waiting for! I got an overwhelming 324 votes and I'm not kidding when I say it came down to the last vote on some of them. I'll post the results at the end:)

but without further ado. . .

Bump date: 20 weeks.

Josh:

There was a certain excitement throughout the house. Something that reminded you of Christmas morning, except it was the middle of February. You and Josh had been waiting for the moment since the day you said you were pregnant. You were going to find out the gender of your baby. There had been a silent poll taken from members of the family. Sam and Jake had even placed a bet on what the gender could be. Today was also going to be your first 3D ultrasound, which was going to be pretty amazing. You could remember the pictures your cousin had shown you of her 3D ultrasound, although kinda creepy, they were beautiful.

“Good morning!” Doctor Mitchell smiled as she walked into the exam room, “How are we feeling?”

“Excited,” You smiled and Josh’s face was light, “We’ve been waiting for this,”

“It’s an exciting time,” Doctor Mitchell said as you shifted and pulled up your sweater, “We’re going to take some measurements today, from here on out we will be taking measurements at every appointment. You’re going to start to notice even more changes in growth and movement. You guys are halfway, this is the nice and easy part of the pregnancy, enjoy it.”

“We have been,” You said, “It’s nice to not spend every morning with your head in the toilet,” You giggled.

“Can we see yet?” Josh asked as Doctor Mitchell moved the transducer around on your belly. He was basically shaking with excitement.

“Yes we can,” Doctor Mitchell said and took a picture of the baby, “See here,” She said pointing at the screen. She said the gender and you and Josh both smiled at each other.

“Sam owes Jake 50 bucks now,” Josh said, lifting your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on it. You looked at Josh confused and he just shrugged. Doctor Mitchell printed off the pictures of both the 2D ultrasound and the 3D ultrasound. The first place Josh wanted to go was the studio, to tell the boys the news.

“So. . . what’s the verdict?” Jake asked rocking on his feet as you all sat in the studio.

“It’s. . .” Josh said dragging it out for dramatic effect, “A boy!”

“Yes! I fucking knew it, pay up Samuel!” Jake said, a big smile on his face. Sam rolled his eyes pulling his wallet out and handing his older brother the money, “You guys happy? You have names picked out yet?”

“We’ve thought of some,” You said, “But, in other news, Josh and I have decided to move in together,”

“I knew it!” Danny smiled, “Sam,” The drummer held his hand out to his best friend, who once again rolled his eyes and produced the money he owed.

“Are you guys betting on our lives now?” You asked looking at them.

“Just think big parts of it,” Sam shrugged.

-----------------------------

Jake:

You were surprised when Jake was the one who suggested a gender reveal party. You didn’t think he’d be the one for the cliche, but between Ronnie and Josh, they had it planned perfectly. You gave Ronnie the envelope with the gender written down on a card and her and Josh got to planning.

Jake’s hand held yours tightly as you walked into the backyard. The whole place covered in white. You gasped at the details, knowing that if they went this far out for the gender reveal, you were beyond excited to see what they had in store for a baby shower. Ronnie had picked out a white maxi dress for you to wear, and Jake wore white from head to toe.

“You’re here!” Ronnie smiled, coming over to greet you guys, “You guys like it?”

“Ronnie, this is beautiful,” You said.

“Don’t start crying, please, you basically cried the whole way here,” Jake said, wiping your eyes.

“I can’t help it,” You said, hitting his chest lightly, “You guys did an amazing job,” You looked at white roses and white oblique tubes that held a colored dust in them, pertaining to the gender of the baby. The backyard filled with your family and Jake’s. Everyone mingled around, eating the food that they had catered in, and asking you about the baby. Jake had never left you side, being basically glued to you. He always kept a hand on you, either around your shoulders, in your hand, or on your belly. He felt like he had already missed some vital time in your pregnancy, and wasn’t wanting to miss anything more.

“Hey, can I get everyones attention!” Josh said, standing in the middle of the garden, “I want to say thank you to everyone who came today to help celebrate my brother and Y/N. Just so you two know, this isn’t the end of Uncle Josh spoiling his possible niece or nephew,” You rolled your eyes as Jake pulled you into him, placing a kiss on the top of your forehead.

“Okay, enough with the waiting!” Ronnie said, “You guys ready?”

“Literally going to shit my pants,” Jake laughed and you shook your head. He grabbed a confetti tube and handed one to you. Sam, Jake, Ronnie and Danny all had one, pointing at you and Jake, “You ready?”

“Yeah, on 3,” You smiled, “1. . . 2. . . 3!” You yelled and pulled the string so pink dust went flying everywhere, staining your clothes and skin. Your mouth dropped open in surprise, and Jake looked around at the pink dust and confetti in the air, “I knew it!”

“It’s a girl!” Jake yelled and pulled you in for a bone crushing hug. He tried to hide his tears, so overcome with emotion at the fact that his little baby, was going to be a little girl, “It’s a girl. We’re having a girl. I’m gonna be a girl dad.”

“I know,” You said sincerely, and kissed him, “You’re going to be the best girl dad, any girl could ask for.”

For the rest of the day Jake never left your side, showering you with compliments and kisses at any chance he got. He was content, getting to hold his girls.

----------------------------

Sam:

Saying Sam wasn’t crazy about knowing the gender of the twins, was the biggest lie known to mankind. The man was going crazy bouncing off the walls waiting to open the gifts that Mackenzi had put together. You guys had decided to just have a small reveal with the godparents. Danny and Mackenzi already knew, having read the envelope to figure it out. Sam had been trying to harass the answer out of Danny all week, but he kept a tight lip about it, which was driving Sam crazy. Sam had wished for one of each, a boy and a girl, saying he had to one up his parents. You weren’t to keen on getting a bunch of pink and blue stuff, but you were also itching to find out. It would make it easier to pick out names, and you would no longer have to hear Sam’s ridiculous name combinations. You loved Sam, but you couldn’t bring yourself to name your children Cedar and Oak.

“They aren’t bad names!” Sam argued.

“Might as well name the next kid Ash,”

“You want more!?” Sam asked excited.

“Besides the point, I am not naming my children after trees,”

Sam mumbled something about the names being cute and on the maybe list. You sat down on the couch and put your feet up, crossing the names off the list. You leaned your head back against the couch and closed your eyes. You were finally at the halfway mark of pregnancy, but in your case, you were a little over half way. Doctor Glover had scheduled your induction for 35 weeks, deciding that was going to be best for you and the twins. It nearly sent Sam into a heart attack, knowing that he had even less time to get things settled. He hadn’t even really started on the nursery, him wanting to wait until you guys know the gender to work more seriously on it. You groaned softly as you heard the door bell ring, Sam was running to the door like a puppy and yanked it open.

“Welcome!” Sam shouted, and let Danny and Mackenzi in, both of them holding gift boxes.

“How are you guys feeling?” Mackenzi asked, hugging you.

“Sam is about to lose his mind,” You joked, “I’m nervous. I know they always say its when you hear the heartbeat that everything becomes real, but I think it’s this moment right here.”

“I know! I was beyond excited when I opened the envelope. I think Danny might have cried,” Mackenzi said, “You guys ready?”

“Isn’t that the statement of the day,” Sam said, taking the box from Danny and shaking it vigorously, “It’s not glass is it?”

“No, but sit!” Mackenzi said pointing towards the couch you were sitting on. Sam sat next to you as Danny got his phone out to record the moment, “Alright, ready. . . open!”

You actually ripped the paper off the box and opened it quicker than Sam. You dug through the box and pulled out a blue hat. Sam bit his lip as he pulled out a very similar hat except it was pink with a bow, “A boy and girl? Are you serious?” Sam asked.

“Yes! We were shocked too!” Danny said, “Congrats!”

Sam hugged you tightly, tears seeping from his eyes. He couldn’t believe it, he was going to have a little girl and boy. He was already planning out all the ways to do their hair and the outfits they’ll wear.

“Are you crying?” You asked him softly.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “I’m just really really happy.”

-------------------------

Danny:

You didn’t want to make it a big deal, just something small between you and Danny. You guys had gone to Doctor Collins for your 20 week exam when she told you both the gender. Danny was more shocked than you, you had a feeling what the gender was going to be. He was excited, and couldn’t wait to tell the guys and his sister. You wanted to keep the gender somewhat a secret, not wanting people to go overboard on pink and blue. But, you both had agreed to tell the band and Josie, knowing that telling someone would be fun, and you knew they could keep a secret from everyone else.

You sat in the studio again, this time with Sam next to you. The boys were trying to get as much done on the album before the baby came. Danny had told them he wasn’t going to be able to spend late nights and all day at the studio once the baby was here, and the boys were more than understanding. In fact, they were trying to push Danny out of the studio most days and go home, but you were on the other side, pushing him back to the studio.

“He’s sounds good,” Sam commented as Danny was drumming the beat for a song, “A lot different than he was when he started, just hitting random shit and thinking it sounded good,”

You laughed, remembering the day Mr. Wagner bought Danny his first drum kit, and how badly you and Josie wanted to go slash every drum head on the kit, “Things certainly have changed,” You rubbed your belly and shifted, feeling the baby kick you in the ribs, “Jeez, little boy, I get it, you’re still in there,”

“Little boy?” Sam asked, “It’s a boy?!”

“You guys are having a boy!?” Jake shouted. You smiled shyly and shrugged.

“I’ve said too much,” You said, turning your head towards the booth your husband was in finishing up his part of the song. Jake eyed you and shook his head mumbling that he knew it. When Danny came out of the booth, he greeted you with a kiss and sat down with you on his lap. He leaned his chin on your shoulder, hands on your belly as Josh and Sam finished up their parts of the song. You had told him you might’ve let it slip the gender of the baby, and Danny smiled, ready for the moment to tell them.

“Okay, so since someone was impatient and couldn’t wait for everyone to come back in so we can say it all at once,” Danny said once Josh and Sam came back into the room, “But, we are having a boy!”

Everyone congratulated you, hugging you both. Sam was now trying to get Danny to tell him the names he knows you guys have already been thinking about.

---------------------

results:

Josh: 69.5% boy, 30.5% girl

Jake: 55.9% girl, 44.1% boy

Sam: 52.5% 1 girl and 1 boy, 25% girls, 22.5% boys

Danny: 60.9% boy, 39.1% girl

thank you all for voting! it was so much fun to watch!

---------------

baby series tag list: @gretavanfleas @Millsemily678 @sarakay-gvf @444tpwk @barbariansgvf @leah2002 @raeraybaebay @Lillihinds @Tastic-gvf @doodle417 @theweightofstardust @dannythedog @ohitselliana @sesamepancakes @fleetastic @agirlwithmanytastes @gretavankleep37 @downbad4gvf @escapefromrealitylol @heatmyfleet @The-weight of-dreams @frickin-bats @xserenax-13 @abby_gvf @screechesincoherently @gretasmokerising @Alphabetsalad @trplshotofdopamine @fleetsonfire @Artemisofthemoonxo @bypeapod

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customsweaterproducer · 4 months

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late-to-the-party-81 · 3 years

Note

Requesting where Peter is bio kid of tony and pepper, so valentines is coming up and Peter does something for them (cook for them, write a card and playing a romantic song for them to dance)

Happy Valentine's, Mom and Dad

AN: Nonnie, this was so cute! I’m imagining Peter being about 14 in this; old enough to be in the kitchen unsupervised, but not having a brilliant repertoire in the cooking department.

Not beta'd. Mood board by me, Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please check out my master list

Characters: The Iron Family - Tony, Pepper and their son Peter

Word Count: 800

CW: Absolutely none - this is just fluff.

It wasn’t hard for Tony and Pepper to realise that Peter was up to something. He was the sweetest kid and they obviously loved their son very much, but secretive and stealthy, he wasn’t. Since just after New Year, he’d been shutting himself in his room for hours on end, and when one of them knocked, they’d hear the sounds of fevered tidying before he’d appear at the door, only open enough for his head to peek out. Pepper had even caught him rifling through the kitchen cupboards, and some of her cookbooks had gone missing. He was spending more time over at Ned’s and MJ’s too, coming home, saying he didn’t need any dinner because he wasn’t hungry.

They weren’t overly worried though, they knew he would talk to them if he had a problem, and finally, it all became clear though on the afternoon of 14th February.

Peter had run in from school, pressed a brief kiss to Pepper’s cheek, and shouted out a quick “Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!”before disappearing into his room. Pepper had strolled over to her husband and looked at him quizzically, as she perched on the arm of the easy chair.

“Any idea what he’s up to, Tones? He definitely takes after you in the “being mysterious” department.”

“At least he has your common sense though. Can you imagine what it would be like if you had to deal with two of me?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “The world would’ve imploded!”

Tony wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist and pulled her down into his lap, chuckling as she squealed at him before he pressed kisses all over her face. He kept her captive as they settled down to watch some television.

About two hours later, Peter appeared downstairs, looking a little nervous and a bit sheepish.

“Erm, Mom, Dad?”

Tony smiled at his son, never failing to marvel at the fact that he’d produced such a kind and handsome kid.

“Yes, Peter? You ready to tell us what’s been keeping you busy the last few weeks, champ?”

“Almost, but I wondered if you and Mom wouldn’t mind going upstairs for a bit, relax, and then get dressed for dinner? I’ve got a surprise for you both, and I sort of need to do it down here.”

The teen twisted the ends of his sweater in his hands. Tony got up from his chair and pulled his son into an affectionate side-hug as Pepper looked on, an indulgent smile on her face.

“Of course we don’t mind, kiddo. Whatever this surprise is, you’ve been working hard on it, so we’ll go upstairs. I’m sure your Mom won’t say no to having time to relax.” Both he and Pepper pressed a kiss to his temple, pulling him in for a brief family hug, before the two adults went upstairs, wondering what Peter had up his sleeve.

Pepper treated herself to a long bath, made even better when Tony came and sat on the side at the end of the tub and rubbed her feet for her. They got dressed, nicely but not too over the top, each wondering what their son had prepared for them. They’d heard the front door open and close a few times, the excited whispers of Ned and MJ audible to them from upstairs

At 7pm there was a knock on their bedroom door. Tony opened it, Pepper peeking over his shoulder. Peter stood there, in his black slacks, white shirt and black tie, in an approximation of a waiter’s uniform. He smiled his shy smile at them and gesticulated towards the stairs.

“If you’ld like to join me down stairs, you can begin your evening.”

The married couple grinned at each other and made their way down the stairs. As they entered the dining room they came to a halt, eyes wide and mouths open. Peter (presumably with help from his friends) had decorated the room with electric candles, pink and red streamers and balloons. The table was set for two with more electric candles, their best china and pink napkins.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Peter shouted with glee and pressed his slim body between his parents.

“Oh Peter,” cried Pepper. “You’re going to make me cry, my sweet boy.”

Tony bumped him lightly on the arm. “You did great, kid. Really proud of you.”

Pulling away from his parents, he pulled out a chair for Pepper, tucking it in under her, before standing, just like a waiter at the side of the table.

“For this evening’s dinner we have a tomato and basil soup for starter, Chicken and Aubergine Parmesan for main, and a Peach Melba for dessert.” He turned to Tony. “Would sir like to pick a wine from his own cellar to go with the meal?”

Pepper chuckled whilst Tony smiled.

What had they done to deserve a kid like Peter?

Tag list: @ilikestarker @mrs-mischief-209 @marvelstarker-mha98

#iron family #irondad and spiderson #iron dad #spider son #fluff fic #marvel #marvel fanfic #late writes #late to the party 81

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serasvictoria · 3 years

Text

@mercurygray was doing her Blind Dates event again this year and since I had so much fun doing it last year, I knew that I had to write something for it again. I used a random name generator and got the name Alexandra Wolff. So here’s my entry that I wrote for the Vikings fandom (which I’ve started camping out in since doing the event last year).

The only downside is that this was supposed to be nothing more than a short intro to introduce an unknown OC and to establish her as the leading character. But by the end of it, I had a full blown fic on my hands for some reason. I’m so sorry, Merc 😅

Title: Cheated Hearts

Pairing: Ivar Lothbrok/Original Female Character

Word Count: 4700 😅

Summary: Alexandra Wolff hates Valentine’s Day with a passion and a messy run-in with a stranger certainly doesn’t make her feel otherwise...

All images from Pinterest

Tagging @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @ritual-unions-gotme @vikingstrash @quantumlocked310 @adrille88 @actual-queen-of-hell @youbloodymadgenius @punkrocknpearls @zuxiezendler @whenimaunicorn @grimeundglow @istorkyou @underragingwaves

*****

If she had to look at another teddy bear with a tiny red sweater that had “I love you beary much” written on it, she was going to scream.

She would. Right in the middle of the goddamn store. Right in front of all the customers that flocked to the counter with all kinds of Valentine’s Day themed shit with the biggest smiles plastered all over their dumb faces.

“This shit, it’s all a lie. Commercial bullshit, all designed to make you spend money for one perfect evening. Then a month, or a year from now if you’re lucky, that same person will tear your heart out of your chest and then they’ll eat it right in front of you making it the last thing you see before you die.”

That’s what she desperately wanted to say. Maybe it would break the spell for one of these saps at least.

Instead, all that Alexandra did was produce her best plastic smile and then told the customer to have a great day. She needed this dumb job to pay the bills, she couldn’t afford to get fired. Not again.

At least the day was almost at an end.

She couldn’t wait to stop at Starbucks on the way home so she could get a frappuccino. Her one indulgence of the day. The rest of the evening would consist of nothing more than curling up on the couch with some leftover mac and cheese while watching Fatal Attraction.

It’s not like she had always been this bitter. From the time that she was old enough to even realise what Valentine’s Day was, she would eagerly wait for the mailman, but apart from two cards from her best friend at the time, there had never been a card from a secret admirer to declare his undying love for her.

Sure, she’d had boyfriends during Valentine’s Day, but none of the guys that she dated had been considerate enough to buy her something. One of them realised halfway through the day what day it was and had opted for a handwritten note with “roses are red” scribbled on it. That had been sweet at least, but afterwards she found out that he’d written similar notes to at least three other girls in school.

That had not been a good day.

Standing in line at Starbucks and seeing a couple of loved up couples in the place made her remember the reason why she had even started to hate this day at all.

Her last boyfriend, he who shall not be named, had been pretty perfect at first. Though she might just have been viewing him through a pair of very rose tinted glasses all along. He had been the one that kept going on about how commercial Valentine’s Day was, even going as far as implying that if it hadn’t been that he would have bought her something.

No, the fact that corporations were telling him that he had to buy his girlfriend something on this specific day, that’s what was the problem.

It wasn’t like he ever bought her anything on his own.

Oh no, wait. He bought her a book once, some dumb romance novel from a writer that she’d never even heard of, and then he actually told her, “You like to read, right?” So it wasn’t like that had been a particularly thoughtful gift. Didn’t help that he mentioned that he’d found it in a bargain bin either.

Yep. Really lucked out with that douchebag.

Her mind had been filled with all the other shitty things her ex had pulled when she walked out of Starbucks and turned the corner. Didn’t help that she hadn’t been looking where she had been going at all.

Nor had the hard body that she suddenly found herself colliding with.

Her caramel frappuccino fell from her hand, landing on the floor with a great big smack, sending the contents flying all over her old white sneakers and white trousers. It also stained the light grey trousers and leather shoes of the guy in front of her.

Usually she’d apologise profusely, but Alexandra’s day had been so shitty that her first reaction wasn’t anything like it normally would be.

“Son of a bitch! Well, that’s just great!”

It wasn’t until she looked up that the rest of her words left her completely. For the blue eyes that were looking straight back at her were the most beautiful eyes that she’d ever seen. There was a whole storm raging inside them and it was sadly directed straight at her, but it did nothing to deter their beauty.

“Are you done?” The anger was dripping from his voice, obviously, but it took her aback nonetheless. “You fucking ruined my trousers.”

“Maybe if you’d been looking where you were going…”

“Me? You’re the one that wasn’t looking!” She’d been so focused on his angelic features, which she’d sadly angered, that she hadn’t even noticed that he had been leaning to the side slightly, one shoulder slanted downward. “It’s not like I could have gotten out of the way.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you could have…“

Her eyes moved downward (over the wide expanse of his chest, which had her clenching her thighs reflexively), and down his legs that she noticed the outline of something underneath the wet fabric that was clinging to them. It was also at that moment that Alexandra noticed the cane.

“Oh.”

She’d walked straight into someone with a leg injury. As if this day couldn't get any worse. She could have seriously injured this guy if she'd walked into him with enough speed and he had taken a fall. Thankfully, all that she had done was soil his trousers.

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“What do you want me to say!”

“That you’re sorry? That you'll pay for my dry cleaning bill?”

“Excuse me?” She looked down at his trousers again, they didn’t look particularly special to her. The shoes, now they obviously were expensive, but the trousers? “You can put your Gap trousers in a washing machine. I’m not paying for that.”

“Gap?!” His voice went up a few octaves, obviously insulted that she had implied that his trousers looked cheap. “They’re Armani.”

“Well, congratulations. Good for you,” she bit back, sarcasm lacing her voice now. “I’m still not paying for that. Or is Armani so special that it’ll disintegrate in a washing machine?”

"The fabric needs to be handled with care," he replied with a practised sneer. "Something that you obviously wouldn't know with your bargain bin clothing."

Alexandra's nostrils flared in anger. Sure, her clothes weren't that expensive, and yes, the trousers had been on discount, but that was uncalled for. It wasn't like everybody could drop what she considered to be a small fortune on a pair of trousers.

Her eyes fell on a half full cup on a table, filled with some unidentifiable brown sludge, coffee from the looks of it, and before her brain had the time to register what she was doing, she picked it up. At least she had the common sense to take a step back first before chucking the contents all over his trousers and shoes. There was no need to get herself more dirty than she already was.

"What the fuck!"

Very calmly, Alexandra reached into her bag, dug out her wallet, grabbed a banknote and shoved it against his chest. "Here." She produced another one of those massive plastic smiles, the millionth one of the day. "I'll gladly pay to have that dry cleaned, asshole."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times like a fish, obviously trying to come up with a response and failing miserably, but she wasn't going to stand around and let him hurl more abuse at her. With the smile still on her face, she walked around him without saying another word and walked back home without a care in the world.

Despite the fact that her trousers were filthy and that her socks and shoes were wet, she barely noticed it. That encounter had left her on a high of epic proportions. The perfect way to unload after a long and exhausting day.

It wouldn't be until much later, when she was sitting on her couch and crying into her ice cream over the sad state of her love life, not even Glenn Close going after Michael Douglas with a knife able to lift her spirits, that she felt horrified over her earlier actions. This wasn't what she was like and knowing that she'd even let her emotions get to her like that… All because everything leading up to Valentine's Day pissed her off to no end.

There was little that she could do about it now though, because it wasn't as if she'd ever see the mystery man again.

*****

Another day, another day closer to Valentine's Day.

There were only a couple of days left and then all this sugary sweet madness would be over.

Alexandra wasn't sure if she could handle any more of this nonsense. Not when her heart had been torn out almost a year ago to the day now, which was why she had come to loathe this day so much to begin with. Seeing hearts all over the place, the myriad of cards with sickly sweet words, signs everywhere urging people to buy even more shit for their sweethearts…

She was pulled out of her thoughts when someone placed a basket on the counter. Peeking inside, she groaned when she saw the contents. She looked up, seconds away from greeting the customer with her customary plastic smile…

"Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here."

"Oh god." Her face fell when she looked at the man in front of the counter, the same guy that she had thrown drinks on yesterday, once accidentally and then deliberately the second time. "Good afternoon, sir," she said through gritted teeth. "How can I help you?"

"This is the gift wrapping counter, isn't it?"

"As you can see." She pointed at the little sign next to her. "Can I see your receipt please?"

It was practically shoved in her face. Fine. She guessed she had that one coming after what she'd done yesterday.

Glancing in the basket once more, she rolled her eyes. How many things were even in there anyway? Must have been six different things. Since he didn't look like the type of guy that would lavish just one girl with such attention, Alexandra immediately assumed that it must have been for several different ladies.

"What was that for?"

"Hm?" She barely looked up from the first item that she had fished out of the basket, a snowglobe with a bear holding a card with a heart inside it. "I didn't do anything."

"You rolled your eyes." She shook her head and wrapped up the present. "Why?"

"No reason," she remarked with a voice completely devoid of emotion. "You bought a lot of stuff."

"Oh, so that's why." He leaned over the counter to look at what she was doing and right when she'd been about to move the first present to the side to start working on the next one, he tapped on the paper. "Not like that. Do it… neater."

"I could always give you some paper so you can do it yourself, you know?"

"And why would I want to do that?" Her growing annoyance only made his wicked grin grow. "This is a nice service that this store offers so I'm going to use it."

The aim of the game was obviously to make her suffer, she had realised that much, and she needed this job. It wasn't like she could refuse to help him, because she just knew that he'd complain to management for the sheer enjoyment of it.

So she gritted her teeth once more, kept her head down and helped the Prince of Darkness to the best of her abilities. He made her redo the wrapping of at least three other presents, but when he noticed that he wasn't getting a rise out of her like he managed to get yesterday, he seemed to drop the matter entirely.

When she finally put the last of the items in a paper bag, she handed it over to him, without the big smile this time, because she had ceased giving a shit, and said, "Have a very pleasant day, sir."

"I'm sure I will. Especially now," he said with a smug smile. She longed to wipe it off of his face, but she could hardly reach over the counter and actually do it. The muscles in her jaw clenched and there was a brief flash of some indescribable emotion on his face, making him pause for a few seconds before finally turning away. "Until next time."

Alexandra watched him hobble out of the store and she hoped to god that this didn't mean that he'd be visiting regularly with the aim of torturing her some more in the future.

*****

"It'll be fun." Sigrid held on to her hand, gripping it like a vice. "You'll see."

"It won't be. I'll be miserable all night."

"You are not going to spend the rest of the evening sitting around at home and being even more miserable. This way you can be drunk and miserable." Before she could open her mouth, Sigrid had turned around and hugged her tightly. "No more thinking about that douchebag, okay?"

"I can't just-" Her friend's arms were so tight around her that it made her wonder if this was what it was like if a boa constrictor had wrapped itself around your body and was busy squeezing the life out of you. "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are." When Sigrid pulled away, she flicked Alexandra in the middle of her forehead. "You wouldn't even reply to my texts the last couple of days. You need this."

"I need vodka shots?" She chuckled then, reminded of how Sigrid was practically trying to bang down her door earlier as she threatened to stand there all night if she had to. "Alcohol doesn't solve every problem."

"It will this time." Sigrid flashed her a smile and started tugging her along to the bar again. "Trust me!"

They reached their destination of the evening shortly after and Alexandra was pulled along to an empty table in the corner. Sigrid disappeared to the bar and came back with the first round of shots later.

The next twenty minutes were spent shit talking her former boyfriend and though Alexandra longed to dismiss men altogether, she knew that Sigrid had started dating a new guy about a month ago, so she focused all her negativity solely on her piece of shit ex.

Only one more day to go and then it would be exactly one year-

"Please don't hate me."

Sigrid got up and smoothed out her skirt. Alexandra frowned, not entirely sure why her friend even said that at all. Craning her neck, she saw Sigrid disappear into the crowd and approach a guy who she promptly embraced. And then kissed.

Oh fuck.

The happy couple approached the table and it wasn't until she could see another guy walking right behind them, that she realised that she'd been set up. This wasn't just a drinking session between friends, this was a double date.

"Alex." Sigrid's smile was unbelievably sweet, even when she was being levelled by Alexandra's angry stare. "I want to introduce you to someone."

"Hi." Her new beau seemed unperturbed by the fact that she wasn't hiding the fact that she was incredibly pissed off. "I'm Ubbe." He held his hand out to her which she took, not wanting to be too rude. "Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Great," she replied with a flat voice. "I'm Alex. Sigrid's clueless friend."

Sigrid didn't look too pleased with her right now, but she didn't care. She was beyond livid at the moment and she would be sure to let her friend know all about it later. Ubbe merely laughed in reply and when he stepped to the side to reveal the guy behind him, Alexandra nearly dislocated her jaw.

"No." She got up and held her hands up. "Nope. Not happening."

"So we meet again.” The guy behind him, or her nemesis as she now liked to call him, pulled a chair back and sat down next to the one that she had vacated. “Not that I was expecting to meet like this, but I’ll take it.”

“Ivar.” When Ubbe said the guy’s name, it sounded like he had uttered it in that way quite often, instantly giving the impression that he had scolded him before. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Like hell you did!” Alexandra pressed her index finger into his chest until he focused those stunning blue eyes on her again. “You are the single most unpleasant person that I have ever met in my entire life.”

“Need I remind you that you threw coffee on me. Twice.”

“Oh fuck. That was you?” Ubbe sounded impressed now, though she wasn’t entirely sure why he would be impressed that she’d almost assaulted his brother. “I apologise for my baby brother,” he sounded genuinely apologetic. “I don’t even want to know what kind of shit he pulled for you to do that.”

“Hey!”

“I know you, Ivar.” Whatever else Ivar was going to say, he was effectively silenced by his brother’s angry stare. “Why don’t I buy the next round, huh?” He pulled Sigrid to the side and spoke to her in a hushed voice. Ivar, meanwhile, was sitting in his chair with his arms folded, looking every inch the petulant child. “I’ll be right back.”

“Alex.” Sigrid tugged on her sleeve to stop her from trying to stare a hole right through Ivar’s chest. “Toilet break.” Alexandra wanted to say something in reply, about how she was leaving, but Sigrid held a finger up to let her know that she wasn’t allowed to say anything. “Now, Alexandra!”

Since Sigrid hardly ever used her full name when addressing her, it was enough to get her to follow her friend meekly.

“Okay, so what’s the problem here?” Sigrid asked as soon as they got to the ladies room.

“That guy is an asshole!”

“So this is the coffee guy, right?” She’d already told Sigrid all about it on the way to the bar of course, and also about what had happened when he came to the store yesterday. Alexandra nodded. “Well, that’s just great.”

“Why‘d you even trick me like this?” Now it was Alexandra’s turn to talk. “You know I don’t like double dates, not after the last disaster.”

“Yeah, I know, but if I’d told you that I’d invited Ubbe and that he was going to bring his brother, you wouldn’t have come.”

“Damn right I wouldn’t have!”

“I just didn’t want you to spend all night wallowing in your own misery, okay?”

“I wasn’t going to-“

“You were. Don’t lie.” No reply came, because Sigrid was able to see straight through her bullshit. “So just hang out for a bit, have a couple of drinks. Not like you have to get off with Ubbe's brother, right?"

"I wasn't planning on it so don't worry about that."

"He sure is cute though."

"His personality isn't," Alexandra replied. "Trust me on that one."

When they rejoined the two guys, Ubbe had gotten the drinks and was talking to Ivar in a hushed voice. Their talk ended abruptly at their arrival and Alexandra sat down in her seat once more. She glanced at Ivar, his expression unreadable. His brother kept grinning at her though and she wasn’t entirely sure why that was happening, but she shook it off.

The conversation flowed easily. Ubbe was a genuinely nice guy and it was plain to see that Sigrid was head over heels in love with him. He displayed a similar level of affection to her, which was nice to see.

Ivar, for his part, kept relatively quiet. Alexandra noticed that he would look at her out of the corner of his eye occasionally, when he thought that she didn’t notice, and she kept waiting for an apology to come, but he never offered one up.

Why he was even here at all was something that she wondered a few times. With all the gifts that he bought at the store, one would be inclined to think that he was too busy to spend the evening before Valentine’s Day in a bar, tagging along with his brother on a double date. Ivar didn’t appear to be getting any messages from his mystery women either. He only glanced at his phone once, only to put it back in his pocket with a slight frown.

But why the hell did she even care anyway? What he did in his spare time was of no concern for her at all. If he kept his foul mood under lock and key, he was probably quite pleasant to be around. Ivar was easy on the eye after all. There was no denying that.

Still, it was nothing that she should even be thinking about. It didn’t matter.

It wasn’t until they had been left to their own devices, with Sigrid and Ubbe a little bit too occupied with each other, in the process of sucking each other’s faces off, that Ivar finally found the courage to talk to her.

“My mother.”

Alexandra looked up and straight into those eyes that had no right being that blue.

“Excuse me?”

“My mother,” Ivar repeated his words. “The stuff I bought yesterday. It was for my mother.”

“As if I’d believe that!”

Ivar pulled his mobile out of his pocket and pulled up a picture before handing her his phone. “Look,” he said simply.

Looking down at the screen, she found herself staring at a picture of an older woman, with a face like she had been a supermodel in a former life, with that hideous pink sweater with the red hearts on it that Ivar had bought yesterday. In her arms were all the other things that he had bought, the big pink bunny plushie right in the middle. It looked like she was in tears from laughing too much and Alexandra couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“That’s my mother,” he repeated one final time before taking the phone from her, his fingers brushing against her hand gently. “I do that every year. Buy her hideous stuff like that for Valentine’s Day just to make her laugh.”

“That’s so sweet,” she blurted out and she instantly cursed herself for even admitting that out loud. The self satisfied smirk on his face made her cringe. A little. “But why?”

“So she won’t be reminded of my father.” He sighed when he saw her questioning look. “He disappeared. Years ago now. We think he’s in England, but we’re not sure. No one’s spoken to him in years.”

“That’s terrible.”

“I know. Their marriage wasn’t great, but we never thought that he’d just leave like that.” There was a deep overwhelming urge to reach out and grab his hand, but she fought it. “I’ve been doing that ever since, because she deserves the attention.”

“That’s a really lovely thing to do.” The urge won out in the end and while she did not grab his hand as intended, she did at least pat the back of it and then let it rest there. It was obvious that he really loved his mother. “Very sweet.”

“So I recognise the pain, you know.” Alexandra frowned at that, not knowing what he meant with those words initially. “In you, I mean.”

“Oh.” She looked down at his hand and how he had turned his own hand upwards to grab hers. “But I’m not… it isn’t…”

“It’s okay.” He gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “Whoever he was, he’s obviously an asshole.”

“Thank you.” Her breathing stuttered, almost choking when he said that. She got up from her seat so quickly that she knocked her chair over. “I-I think I need some air.”

Not thinking of grabbing her coat, she headed straight out into the street and the first thing that hit her was the cold air. There were a few seconds where she contemplated heading back in again, but decided that maybe the difference in temperature would help and clear her head.

When the door opened again and Ivar hobbled out into the street with her coat in his free hand, she almost started crying there and then. Instead, she sniffled and rubbed at her eyes, to stop any potential tears from falling at all.

“You forgot this,” he held it out to her and she put it on quickly. “Want me to stay?”

“It’s a free country,” she said with a nervous laugh, but when he didn’t respond she added a quick, “Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.”

The silence between them afterwards was pleasant, for want of a better word. Ivar simply stood next to her, leaning against the wall like she was doing. She swore that she almost saw his lips move from the corner of his eye a couple of times, but he must have been as much at a loss as Alexandra was.

Waiting for the questions made her nervous and almost made her blurt out a hasty apology herself, but the words didn't form. It would be too difficult to explain away after all.

For where does one start this sad sob story? The one where she was happy in a relationship, oblivious, but happy, only to find out about her then boyfriend’s betrayal by accidentally walking in on him having sex with someone that she had considered a friend?

It was such a fucking cliche too, like something straight out of the movies, but at least Alexandra could boast that her first reaction to seeing this hadn’t been to run off whilst crying. No, her first instinct had been to grab some hideous ceramic that his mother had gifted them, which he had insisted be placed in the bedroom so she was forced to look at it every morning that she woke up, and she had lobbed it straight at the couple.

It had shattered right on her back, because she hadn’t even bothered getting off of him, and then she’d screamed bloody murder at Alexandra, who had very calmly stood in the doorway and had told both of them to get the fuck out her house. The exact same level of calmness that she had displayed when she had first met Ivar and had thrown that second drink on him.

How does someone even start a story like that? She’d only start rambling incoherently and then he’d obviously be so put off by this display that he’d never want to see her again. And she kinda did want to see him again, didn’t she?

Christ. She was royally fucked.

“So…” She finally opened her mouth, opting instead to blurt out some hasty apology even if she had no idea what to say. “The thing is…”

Ivar had turned to her at the exact same moment that she had, but instead of listening to her lame ass excuse, his free hand moved to the back of her head and he dipped his head down to close the distance, their lips finally meeting.

The kiss was gentle and soft, his lips moving against hers slowly. She kissed him back, of course she did, how could she not. It was slow and sweet, no pressure, but with a hint of more if she so desired. When he broke away, she chased after him, giving him a final quick peck before all contact was broken.

His smile was almost as gentle as the kiss and then he said, “I don’t have to know.” She didn’t know what to say to that, having been successfully stunned into silence. Instead she found herself looking down at the hand that he was offering her now. “You want to come back inside?”

Alexandra took it.

#blind dates prompt #blind dates oc fest #vikings #vikings au #ivar lothbrok #original female character #ivar x ofc #mar writes #mar moodboards #blind dates 22

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