#if anyone asks yes i know i look kind of eeyore inspired

[skulltasticc]

fresh outta water 🐳

[sgtbellamyblake]

oh what fun it is

Summary: Bellamy brings home an item that watches them grow in love and size over the years, being the heart of their holidays for a lifetime.

Word Count: 1,782

Check out the links below so you can have visuals while reading the story!

A/N: To celebrate that December is finally here and Christmas is right around the corner I wrote this little one-shot and it’s just pure fluff! It was inspired by my own dad who used to absolutely love this toy we got for the holidays when I was younger but it got very old and stopped working so we’ve now replaced it with this one. They’re both featured in the story. I really hope you enjoy, happy holidays!

[AO3]

It’s their first Christmas Eve together in their new apartment that Bellamy comes home with the singing toy and it’s safe to say she’s surprised because Bellamy’s kind of a Grinch when it comes to Christmas.

They’re getting ready to go over to Abby and Kane’s to celebrate for the night, and Clarke made him go out to the store to get a bottle of scotch while she finished getting ready. God forbid they show up at her mother’s house without one. Kane would love any other gift as much, even if it wouldn’t last till the 25th. He and Bellamy would probably empty the bottle before midnight.

She’s walking out the hallway putting her earrings on when she sees him by the tree, getting something out of the CVS bag that does not look like a bottle of scotch whiskey.

“Please never make me go to the store on Christmas Eve, ever again.” He says, his back to her.

“Didn’t take you so long.” Clarke argues.

“That doesn’t look like scotch.” She tells him, watching him place a Winnie the Pooh, Tigger and Eeyore plush toy riding a sleigh under their tree.

“It’s in the car.” Bellamy chuckles.

“What is that?” Clarke raises an eyebrow and approaches the tree.

“Wait for it…” He crouches down to press Eeyore’s paw and the toy starts dancing and singing along to Jingle Bells.

He grins up at her and she giggles. She can’t help the warm feeling she gets in her chest as she watches him enjoy something related to the holiday. It’s in the way his eyes look as he stares at it.

“We used to have one like this when we were little. It was Mickey Mouse. He was dressed like an elf. Deck the Halls.” Bellamy reminisces, standing up straight. Clarke wraps her arm around his waist and rests her head on his chest as he speaks again.

“We didn’t get it out the following Christmas after she died. I don’t know… I guess it just kinda reminded us of her and we hadn’t come to terms with it all yet. I thought maybe it was time to pick up the tradition again… Kinda like a new beginning, right?”

She’s quiet and listens carefully to his words. He doesn’t usually talk an awful lot about his mom so when he occasionally does she always gives him the space to talk freely.

“Yeah,” Clarke nods and leans up to kiss him. “I think it’s perfect.”

He soon gets upgraded from his Grinch status.

____

The following year the toy gets a whole new meaning for them.

They’re hosting Christmas Eve dinner for their friends and after everyone’s naturally eaten way too much they’re all sitting at the living room around the tree exchanging gifts.

Clarke sits next to Bellamy when he pats her hip and tells her to go turn the toy on.

She doesn’t argue when he does, given that the toy makes him happy rather than being a sad reminder of a part of his life he can no longer reach. It has a new purpose now that Clarke and him have a life together.

She stands up and bends in front of the toy to press it when she notices something out of place. A small velvet box sits on top of Eeyore’s paws and she freezes in place. She almost doesn’t dare to grab the box—just in case it isn’t for her—but then she does and when she turns around Bellamy’s down on one knee in front of her and all their friends are looking at her expectantly, holding their phones out to record the moment about to happen. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen Octavia cry before.

Bellamy slips his hand in his pocket as if he’s looking for something and she’s confused because she’s already holding the box. She hasn’t even opened it.

“Open it!” Octavia encourages her and she does. She’s speechless.

“I wrote something and I lost the damn paper!” Bellamy says and he sounds nervous, which is unusual for him.

“Dude, just say something!” Miller laughs and Bellamy runs a hand over his unruly hair in frustration.

“I love you and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you and play that toy every Christmas till we’re old and die.”

“Jesus…” Jasper mutters and they laugh.

“Will you marry me?”

Clarke can’t handle how perfect Bellamy looks all nervous and probably hating himself because he thinks he ruined the proposal for losing his speech. She thinks it’s just right and all it takes is for her to turn around and press Eeyore’s paw for the room to erupt in cheers and applauses for them.

Pooh, Tigger and Eeyore sing Jingle Bells in the background when she says yes. ____

“Maybe it’s gonna scare her.” Clarke tells her husband as she attempts to wrap a garland around the tree. He’s supposed to be helping her but he’s opened one of the boxes full of decorations and found the toy. She’s gonna have to decorate on her own.

“She’ll love it.” Bellamy says as he lays it on the floor in front of the bouncer. Quickly the three month old has their full attention.

“Rory,” He coos to try and get his daughter’s attention as he presses Eeyore’s paw and music fills the air.

The baby watches the item with a straight face and Clarke can’t help but laugh.

So Rory’s not the chirpiest baby around, but it’s no surprise to anyone. No one expects any less knowing who her parents are.

“She is not amused at all.” Clarke tells Bellamy and he’s still determined. “No, let’s wait a bit longer.” He insists.

Soon enough the song is over and the eager dad turns the toy on again. Rory can’t help but to finally break a smile and kick her socked little feet, making her bounce in her seat.

“Look! She’s smiling! She likes it!” He points out in excitement.

To Clarke, the moment is just as sweet as the tune playing and even though it’s not yet Christmas, her holiday’s are complete.

It’s their most special moment with the Christmas plush yet. ____

After years of being put to good use, the toy’s batteries finally gives up on them and Clarke thinks it took way too long. Maybe it was because they always took them out before putting it away for the rest of the year but this time the batteries are just plain dead.

Clarke is in the middle of making after dinner when she hears the distorted sound coming from the living room and genuinely gets scared.

“Daddy!” Rory calls out from the living room to her father, who’s just getting home from work and soon after Jack is in his arms, crying. She doesn’t blame the three year old. The sound the toy made was terrifying.

“It’s probably just the batteries, bug. I’ll fix it.” He promises, walking over to pick up the toy from under the tree.

The three of them crowd around the kitchen counter and the kids watch as Bellamy unscrews the cap and changes the batteries for them. In no time, Pooh, Tigger and Eeyore are singing again and this time probably as loud as when they first got the toy, new batteries and all.

Jack claps, shrieking through teary eyes and Rory dances along to the music. Clarke thinks she might even feel their unborn child doing a little flip at the sound as well. The kids disappear with the toy back into the living room and that night they listen to Jingle Bells so many times they’ll probably have to change the batteries again soon. ____

The toy stops working, coincidentally, the Christmas after their third child goes off to college and Bellamy mopes around for a whole day about it. It’s probably also the fact that they have an empty nest. Clarke roams every CVS in town trying to find a new one but, of course, she doesn’t. It’s an old thing. ____

Many Christmases later, the couple sits at their living room, surrounded by grandkids and torn up wrapping paper. They’ve substituted their cups of coffee for scissors and are attempting to open the kids presents up because Lord knows these days toys come way too tightly secured, too much plastic. Rory, Jack and Levi along with their significant others all nurse their cups of coffee in hands while they let the grandparents do all the work and Bellamy and Clarke don’t mind at all.

Clarke sees the three of her children stand up and Levi picks up a box, surprisingly still wrapped, from under the tree. The little ones are normally eager to rip open every single box under the tree but that one seemed to have gotten away. Levi winks at his mother and clears his throat.

“Uh, dad…” Jack speaks first to try and get his attention and Bellamy lifts his head to meet his three grown children. He takes his glasses off and Rory continues.

“So we know we haven’t given you your present yet but we wanted to save it for last.”

Clarke knows Bellamy doesn’t really care for present because to him his family, this moment were the best gift, but she was curious.

Levi places the box on top of his father’s lap and tiny pairs of hands immediately cover the box. Bellamy let his grandkids help him open it and when he takes a peek inside he loses his breath.

“What is it, Bell?” Clarke asks, as she takes her littlest grandchild in her lap and tries to sneak a look at the contents of the box.

Out of the box he takes out an identical toy to the one he’d lost years ago. A brand new Winnie the Pooh, Tigger and Eeyore riding a sleigh smiling back at him. It’s when he presses Eeyore’s paw and Jingle Bells starts playing that all the kids go crazy, giggles filling the air and it takes him a second or two to gather himself together before stand up to hug his grown children.

“Do you like it?” Levi asks as he squeezes the three of them as tight as he can and he laughs.

“It’s perfect.” Bellamy whispers, his voice tight and careful. Clarke can’t see his face but she can tell he’s crying. “Where did you find it?” He asks, still in shock.

“Ebay.” Rory laughs, knowing most of the time her father uses the internet he doesn’t even know what he was doing. He just clicks and scrolls aimlessly. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

And just like that Pooh, Tigger and Eeyore sing for many years after that.

[fashiontrendin-blog]

My First Fashion Week Has Been Imperfect and Strangely Life-Affirming

http://fashion-trendin.com/my-first-fashion-week-has-been-imperfect-and-strangely-life-affirming/

My First Fashion Week Has Been Imperfect and Strangely Life-Affirming

This is my very first fashion week! I’m very excited and also nervous and oh my god what will I wear I hope I don’t fall over at some point. I love fashion as something to think about and observe in others, but I feel I’m very firmly not a “fashion person,” if that makes sense? I sort of feel like a band nerd at a jock party, but I have no doubt this week will be fun (if I don’t fall). This is also my first fashion week as a managing editor, so while we’ve had meetings and google docs and emails galore, 90% of my anxiety comes from a deep need to not mess this up. Below, a recording of my first few days — let me know whether you think I succeeded.

Thursday

10 a.m.

I’m working from home today and have knocked out the work-from-home essentials: brush your teeth, wash your face, put on a bra and make a huge pot of coffee. I spend most of the morning doing normal non-fashion week things.

2 p.m

I make one of those weird work-from-home lunches that’s just a bowl of stuff from your fridge.

6:30 p.m.

I sign off to get ready for the DapperQ show at the Brooklyn Museum.

7 p.m.

I decide to walk because it’s finally not a million degrees out and immediately get rained on. I regret nothing as it is important to see the outside world for at least 20 minute on a work-from-home day.

7:30 p.m.

I meet up with my friend Naima and head in. It’s a full-on scene. Technically this is my very first fashion show, but it’s on what feels like my home turf. The general public can and is encouraged to buy tickets so it’s more of an event than anything else. There are pop-up boutiques, a gif booth, the world’s longest bar line and a station to get all of your measurements taken.

8:10 p.m.

The show starts and it’s actually 10 different labels showing: A/C Space, Audio Helkuik, Jag & Co, Kris Harring Apparel Group, Nicole Wilson, SALT, Stuzo clothing, The Phluid Project, TomboyX + Squirrel Vs. Coyote, and THÚY Custom Clothier. It’s a mix of incredibly tailored suits for all types of bodies and all types of gender expressions, flowy linen tunics and pants that feel like tropical menocore, ’90s inspired rave wear and a truly great bike short look. The models that are sent down the runway are all races, ages, sizes and orientations.

9:15 p.m.

That was a very long show, I fell in love at least three times and now I need to buy a suit. First fashion show down!

Friday

10:30 a.m.

I get into the office late because the Q was majorly delayed this morning and it was physically impossible to get on the first one that came. Haley, Simedar and I spend five minutes talking about how dumb New York is as an idea. Someone points out there’s a nutella cookie on the counter and I decide to treat my emotional wounds with too much sugar.

11 a.m.

The office is a ghost town, between people dashing in and out for shows, working remotely and squeezing in end-of-summer vacations. I get a lot of the task-based stuff done (pay freelancers, update our project management software, send some strongly worded emails). I think/hope we prepared well for fashion week this year. We had two meetings to try to get ahead of everything but also decided that this year everyone will be flexible within reason. There’s no need to stay up till midnight working on a post.

1 p.m.

Amelia turns around her Tory Burch post with lightning speed, Edith finds the photos and we turn it live! Nothing like the rush of timely content!!!

5 p.m.

Maybe it’s the sugar, maybe it’s the fashion week adrenaline, but it is 5 o’clock and we have lost our minds. We get on the topic of tattooing celebrities on our thighs, Haley has busted out her weird animal toys and I keep changing my hair. I’m going to Chromat in a few and feel like this is the day to just go for a fulllllll look. I’m wearing a purple jump suit and more makeup and jewelry than I ever do, but changing from a high bun to a messy low ponytail feels like a true leap into a fashion-forward existence. Haley loans me her incredible white coat and while every part of my always-underdressed soul is screaming for me to take it off, a small voice says, it’s fashion week.

5:50 p.m.

Eliz and I arrive at the Chromat show after a quick walk (that girl can walk). There’s a lot of street style hullabaloo and when a nice guy asks to take my photo I say YES. Fashion week has turned me into a whole new woman!! It was a weird process but whatever, I’m an old pro by the time we meet up with Simon and he snaps my photo for this here diary. We’re in line for about 30 minutes but it goes quickly because there is just so much to see, so many people to watch.

6:20 p.m.

After a somewhat confusing line situation and an elevator ride that set off my anxiety (made an iPhone note: “Play about fashion people stuck in an elevator???” I don’t think it’s a hit), we get into the space. In the rush to find our seats I see one Whoopi Goldberg and feel beyond blessed.

6:50 p.m.

The show is over and it was so fun! Once again we were blessed with a gorgeous mix of models including Ericka Hart, whose hair I’m copying immediately. Their swimsuits and sunglasses and beads almost made me sad that summer is over, but I now have some full looks to dream about for the next 10 months or so.

7:15 p.m.

Back in the office to send the final end-of-day editorial email and check in on some things before running off to surprise my friend who just got engaged!! Feeling very happy and grateful for this day.

Saturday

10 a.m. – 1 p.m.

Very chill morning, made some breakfast, did some reading, wrote for myself, went to the gym, ate a second breakfast, took a shower and put my ���look” together.

1-2 p.m.

Getting ready for the Christian Siriano show and am VERY excited. I got to talk to him ever-so-briefly earlier this year and love not only the stuff that he makes but the people he casts. Also hoping to see my tall sister Leslie Jones.

Feeling a bit of an emotional hangover from pushing myself outside of my comfort zone (amazing what the right coat can do), so I just threw on the Levi’s from this story, a black turtleneck and some dad sneakers. Feeling very much in my comfort zone, I left, giving myself 20 more minutes than Google maps told me I needed because of the raggedy-ass MTA.

2:15 p.m.

The Q isn’t coming for 17 minutes. The B isn’t running at all. I remember how much fun I had in Baltimore earlier this year and briefly imagine what Baltimore Nora is doing right at this very moment.

2:32 p.m.

The train is beyond crowded but I push myself on because I can’t be late. I hope that all of my I’ll-wait-for-the-next-one karma has been stored up for this very moment. Texting with Haley and Em to let them know I’ll be late-late. Because, oh, guess what? This late-ass Q is now running local instead of express. A 3-year-old-girl is pummeling her older brother while their dad plays a phone game. Her brother pushes her and she falls on my shoes, the dad finally looks up. I double check that I’ve registered to vote.

4:17 p.m.

I finally meet Emily outside in line. We have standing tickets and Haley has a seat so she already went in. We chat, see Tiffany Hadish walk in (she ready, I mumble enthusiastically to myself) and I think Carmen Electra? It is raining and the line is outside.

4:23 p.m.

No room at the inn! Someone tells one person at the front of the line that we all have to go home and it quickly becomes the world’s saddest/grouchiest game of telephone. Em and I are both a little bummed and decide to just head home rather than wait to see people exit. I get back on the Q train, it is running as it should.

I’m a little annoyed and frustrated and the high of last night’s New York magic has worn off. The afternoon was stressful, challenging, disappointing and no one likes to feel like they’re being left out. It felt like what I was nervous would happen (“mmm you’re not cool!”) happened and I know it’s not personal and I know it’s not an actual big deal but I’m just…over it.

5:20 p.m.

Grab some groceries on the walk home, come back to send a few emails, update a few headlines and check in on everyone else. My ticket for Pyer Moss is standing also and I’m feeling a little Eeyore-ish and think about skipping it. My friend Morgan’s birthday is tonight and so is my friend Michelle’s goodbye and I could use the extra energy/hours. But I ultimately decide against ditching. So I eat too much cheese, sigh and put on my shoes, and head out the door. Feel free to bookmark that as an inspirational quote.

6:30 p.m.

The show is in Brooklyn at the Weeksville Heritage Center so I splurge on a Lyft since it’s kind of close. I get there and just like that, I’m back in it. Roughly 98% of the people outside are black and there are some fantastic outfits. I bump into my new pal Simon who was smart enough to wear a rain poncho. We wait in line for a bit which gives me ample time to covet the Pyer Moss sweatshirts the staff and crew are wearing. There are also staff members with shirts that say “If You’re Just Hearing About Pyer Moss We Forgive You.” I’ll take two. I don’t know anyone but it’s fine, because I’m just happy to be there.

7 p.m.

I walk into the space and it’s amazing. It is full on raining so it’s a bit of a bummer that it’s outside but very much worth it. I wander over to the back where the historic houses are. Which, I feel like I should explain something here: I LOVE historic homes and historic house tours. Like 80% of my personality is loving historic homes. These particular historic homes are the Hunterfly Road Houses , built at the height of Weeksville’s time as a thriving free black community in the 19th and early 20th century. Okay. Back to fashion. Shaun Ross is here! I think MJ Rodriguez is here too! Karruche is for sure here!

7:15 p.m.

A jazz quartet walks out. They’re all dressed in white and posted up to the side of the houses: I’m about to witness some black excellence, I think to myself. I’m standing by the stage manager and hear her say “the choir is coming out now” into a headset. Which, okay, sorry to keep doing this — I LOVE choirs, and while we’re here on this historic black site about to watch a black designer send black models down the runway while a jazz quartet plays, I watch this choir come out and think about how much being in choir helped shaped my identity and community and realize that, at this moment, it feels a bit like a community, and I get in my feelings, just a little bit. What would it have been like to see this future for myself? What is it like to grow up now with all these infinite ways to be black and successful?

8ish p.m.

The show is over and it was incredible. Yellow pleather overalls, a yellow mesh dress that I would not be surprised to see on MR sometime in the future, gorgeous pleated pants, amazing graphic prints and a gospel choir that swag surf-ed. I would see a look and think of a black actor it would be perfect for, or a friend (I’m matchmaking Crystal and those pleather overalls for sure). It just felt special.

It’s been a rough couple of news days, so standing in that space in awe of all that we do and all that we create was the first time I truly felt what it means for fashion to transcend clothing or magazines or trends. To be at the heart of how fashion can be the start of a conversation or even a feeling.

There was a cookout, with Hennesy, duh, but I decided to leave on a high note. I turned around to look at the Hunterfly Houses all lit up as an amazing 90s R&B mix floated out from the party and I remember why I love New York. That all parts of myself are given a place to thrive, to be seen. That in three days you can see different pieces of what matter to you reflected back in all of the crazy glory of the city at its most insane. I’m signing off to celebrate a friend and say goodbye to another, to give thanks for this city and the people that fill it.

Feature photo by Simon Chetrit.