It was only recently that Rozwell Kid came across my radar after I saw them on a tour flier for another band that I honestly can’t remember, and their name stuck out to me, so I looked them up. I’m really glad that I did. What I found was a grungy rock n roll band with heavy effects and distortion to the guitar, almost reminiscent of the guitar tone on early CKY records, with a low rumbling wall of sound dynamic consistent throughout their songs. The band is essentially a louder, heavier Weezer, with an incredibly catchy and poppy style disguised underneath a loud and energetic sound.
stinkin’ M, my coworker, okay. we were talking last week and I mentioned going skating. and she was like, “oh, you ice skate?” and I was like, “well I used to take lessons? I went for new year’s but before that it’s been a decade ahaha”
and she was like, “oh I took lessons too!” and the convo went on etc etc
and today she came in and gave me a pair of skates???!????? “I’ve got like 4 pairs in the garage from my kids, take ‘em.” I tried to pay her and she just laughed at me
Connor’s not sure when exactly it happened, when Oliver stopped being that guy I sleep with and became the only guy I want to sleep with for the rest of my life. It happened gradually, he thinks, when he wasn’t paying attention.
He went to bed with Oliver holding him and woke up strewn atop Oliver who had rolled over onto his back in the night. Oliver’s snoring, hair messy, one hand curled into the comforter, the other wrapped protectively around Connor’s shoulder.
And Connor knows, this is the guy I want to spend forever with.
So there he is, wrapped up in a sleeping Oliver, having an existential crisis. What does he do? Does he propose? Do they get married and move to the suburbs? Buy a house with a garage? Adopt a few kids?
What if that isn’t what Oliver wants? Does he even know what Oliver wants?
Oliver’s hand twitches in his sleep, fingers tightening on Connor’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “‘ove you,” Oliver mumbles into Connor’s hair.
Okay, so maybe Oliver’s always made it obvious what he wants. Connor laughs, relief blooming, washing away unfounded fears.
He’d ask and Oliver would say yes. Just like when he suggested they move in together, and Oliver insisted they go to Lowe’s right now and get another key made to apartment 303. Oliver smiled so wide that night, Connor didn’t think that strange fluffy feeling in his chest would ever go away.
It’s back now, vibrant and pulsating and Connor can’t stop laughing.
He decides to ask Oliver the minute he wakes up.
He waits a full 30 seconds before deciding it’s taking too long and shakes Oliver’s shoulder.
“Huh? Connor?” Oliver asks, voice sleep-rough. He blinks a few times, then rubs at his eyes with the hand that had gripped the comforter. The other still sits on Connor’s shoulder even as Connor pushes himself up on his elbows to look down at Oliver’s face. “Is everything okay?”
“Marry me,” Connor says.
Oliver stills. He blinks again, slower and longer. “Am I dreaming? I’m dreaming aren’t I?””
“No.” Connor crawls up over him to kiss him on the lips. “It’s Tuesday morning. The alarm’s going to go off in three minutes. We stayed up too late last night watching Netflix, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Oliver’s eyes are wide open now. And there’s that smile again, just like at the Lowe’s, wide and toothy and breathtaking. “Connor.”
“I love you, Oliver. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” Oliver pulls Connor down for another kiss, and, when Connor eagerly returns it, rolls him into the mattress.
They don’t make it in to work that day.
But in a few years, they get that house with a garage in the suburbs. And not long after that, they adopt some kids.
Connor’s not sure when exactly he became the luckiest guy alive. Oh, wait. Yes he does. It was when Oliver said, “I do.”
Summary: Five times Barry and Iris gave each other flowers through their relationship.
Word Count: 4463
1. Daisies: Purity,
remembers every detail the day he met Iris.
mother had taken him to a nearby park like she did every Saturday
afternoon in the hopes he would play with the other children. At six
years old Barry already knew most kids his age didn’t understand or
even like him. Barry was the weird kid. The one who conducted science
experiments in his garage. Unlike the other kids he preferred to stay
inside and read books during recess. Thus Barry spent every Saturday
alone at the swing set watching the other kids run around and play
with each other.