[series now cross-posted to ao3! stay tuned for more! ]
Have been watching a lot FRIENDS lately bc its one of my and my gf's comfort shows and, of course, i cannot stop thinking about Stranger Things-ifying the hell out of it. the vision came to me SO CLEARLY
[PART 2]
Sitting around the coffee shop that is basically a second home to the gang.
Nancy sits on the chair across from Argyle, one leg tucked under her, legal pad balancing on the arm, a pen being held between her pointer and middle finger, tapping incessantly on the pad. The other hand tucked into a fist and holding up her chin.
Argyle sits with his legs draped over the arm of the oversized chair, flipping through the latest Steven King book, one arm perched behind his head.
Jonathan has the NYT crossword in his lap, Robin peering over his shoulder, making him nervous.
A normal Saturday afternoon routine for the group of twentysomethings. The rain from outside softly hits the windows nearby, complimenting the soft chatter and gentle clanking of dishes.
But Robin can only seem to focus on Nancy's damn tapping.
"Nance?"
"Hm?"
"I'm gonna need you to stop tapping. I'm trying to beat Jonathan's puzzle."
"Just take it," he hands the paper over to her, annoyed.
"No! It's more fun when it feels like I'm beating you."
Jonathan looks over at Nancy, who is staring blankly at the wooden support beam a few feet away.
"What's going on Nance?"
"Nothing." Her pitch high, grabbing the rest of the groups attention, so much so that they all inch closer to her chair.
"Sounds like a whole lotta nothing," Argyle pulls a nearby chair up next to hers flipping it around and resting his forearms on the back of it.
Robin sits on the ground next to her and Jonathan takes a seat on the coffee table right in front of her.
"Fine!" She takes a look over her shoulder, toward the front door. "I have a date."
"Why are we whispering?" Argyle asks, also whispering.
"Because you know who could walk in any second."
"Why are we whispering and speaking in codes?" Jonathan asks, still whispering.
And as an act of divine timing, the front door to the coffee shop opens, and they all turn their heads to see a slightly damp Eddie shake his hair out and shed his leather jacket in one fell swoop. His face fixed in the same frown that's plagued his face for the last two weeks.
"Hey," the group says in unison, not moving a muscle from where they're still crowded around Nancy.
"What did I say about that tone," Eddie whines, flopping himself down on the couch that previously held Jon and Robin.
"How're you doing?" Robin asks, shifting her body, still sitting on the floor, toward him.
"All of her stuff is gone which means that all of my stuff is gone."
No one says a thing. Not even when the sound of a ceramic coffee cup shatters somewhere in the distance.
"Eddie?"
"What?"
"I don't mean to sound insensitive dude, but shouldn't you be a little less depressed considering... " Argyle trails off.
"Considering what?"
"Considering you're the one that left her?" Robin finishes the thought that everyone is having.
"I didn't leave her." He scoffs.
"No, but when you tell your long-term girlfriend about recently discovering that you're gay, one might see that as you being the one to end that relationship."
"We've been over this." He balls up his jacket and shoves his face into the wet leather. The group share a look, Nancy gesturing to Eddie's state as if to say this is why I'm not talking about the date.
He chucks the balled up jacket at Jonathan, who kicks his feet out in surprise as he catches it with his chest. Eddie's hands are now on either side of his face.
"The love was there! I could've loved her if..."
"If she was someone else?"
He deflates, lets his arms slump down and his shoulders do the same.
"Eddie, my friend, my pal, listen up." Argyle moves seats for the third time, now squeezing himself into the space between Eddie and the arm rest on the couch, draping his arm over his shoulders.
"You have just entered a whole new world, my man. So, you're gay? We're in New York City, so is everyone! Welcome home! All that love you were ready to give to Michelle? You get to hold onto that and give it to someone else. Someone who makes your heart sing."
"But I knew her just as long as I knew you guys." He whines, again, gesturing to Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. "It was easy. It was safe. How am I ever gonna find romance with someone? Where we have an established - I don't know - thing! A connection! A history! How?"
Eddie stares at them like he expects them to answer, forcing the rest of the group to share glances, let the air settle with Eddie's words.
The front door flies open just as a roaring thunder booms overhead, making for a dramatic entrance.
Robin's the first one to swivel her head toward the ruckus, the only one who has a perfect view of the person who burst into the shop.
A man dressed in a tux, drenched, like, just hopped out of a swimming pool drenched. Fighting with his bow tie with one hand and running his other hand through the unforgettable head of hair that sends Robin right back to Hawkins, Indiana. Back to the summer before her senior year.
Huh?
Unable to move a muscle in her body, she watches him clumsily go up to the counter and ask for her and Nancy, by name. The sound of her name sends her up to her feet and pushes her toward the man. An air of chaos surrounds him, drawing an offense amount of curiosity out of Robin as she finds her words.
"Steve Harrington?"
He turns around, his face lights up, and he does the weirdest thing.
He hugs her.
She remains stiff as he pulls back from the hug, hands still on either side of her arms.
They were buddies that summer scooping ice cream at the mall. Nothing crazy, or maybe even that memorable, but they started the summer as acquaintances at best and left as friends.
But then he left for college and she stayed and they never spoke again. A few run-ins here and there. But nothing substantial.
"I knew I'd find you here, I remembered that the last time I was in the city I ran into you guys and you're here!" He sounds drunk, but also like he drank a vat of espresso.
Clearly, it was substantial enough for him to come looking for her. Dressed in a tux soaking wet?
"And you're here, overdressed." She says, taking him in, unable to unscrew the confused look from her face.
Is that a boutonnières?
Oh no. Oh fuck.
"Steve?" Jonathan and Nancy say in unison as Robin brings him over to the couch.
Robin thinks Eddie might have summoned the ghost of hopeless high school crushes past, the way Eddie looks like he's just seen a ghost.
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The One with George Stephanopoulos
this chapter made me want pizza and alcohol okay bye
chandler bing x female!reader
summary: its been a few months since you moved to the city and you're settling in pretty well with your new group of friends
word count: ~4.5k
warnings: mentions of black mold, alcohol, a little snooping, but its harmless fun
<previous next>
"What would you guys do if you were omnipotent?" you ask suddenly during a quiet afternoon in the cafe.
"Probably make myself immortal," Monica says, looking up from her crossword. "And be able to time-travel, I've always wanted to do that as a kid."
"Ooh, time travel would be sick," you say. "I'd want to immediately know how to play the bass."
"Oh, that's good, that's good." Rachel smiles, handing you your latte.
"What about you, Phoebe?" you ask the woman sitting on the floor.
"I would want, um, world peace. No more hunger. Good things for the rainforest." She grins before quickly adding, "Oh, and bigger boobs!"
"Well, see, you took mine," Ross says. You giggle, holding your warm mug and leaning back into the couch next to Chandler, who quickly removes his arm from behind the couch. "Chandler, what about you?"
Chandler shrugs. "If I were omnipotent for a day, I'd make myself omnipotent forever."
You scoff and roll your eyes. "Lame."
Rachel also tches. "See, there's always that one guy. 'If I had a wish, I'd wish for three more wishes.'"
You laugh again and turn as the door opens. Joey walks in and you hit him with your burning question. "Joey! Joey, what would you do if you were omnipotent for a day?"
He blinks at your question and answers, "Probably kill myself."
Your eyes widen and you breathe out a laugh. "Sorry?"
"Hey," he starts as he takes a seat beside Ross. "If little Joey's dead, then I've got no reason to live."
You shake your head and take a sip of your drink.
"Uh, Joey." Ross's first mistake was to try and help. "Omnipotent."
Joey's eyes widen and in the most sympathetic voice you've ever heard him use, he says, "You are?"
You choke on your drink, laughing into your mug and almost spilling coffee on yourself. Chandler places a hand on your back while Phoebe hands you a napkin, taking your drink from you. You laugh again, wiping your face, and look at Joey.
"Dude, you're so funny. Do you know that?"
Joey smiles and shrugs. "People say that I am."
You clear your throat and lean back in your seat again. Chandler has an arm across the back of the couch again, but this time he doesn't move it, something everyone but you catches on to.
His arm doesn't move for the next thirty minutes either. Eventually, you notice but think nothing of it. Ross does it with Phoebe and there's certainly nothing there. Your newfound friend group talks about nothing and everything at once as the afternoon grows later. After a while, you glance at your watch and realize you need to head out, even though you don't want to.
With a groan, you sit up. "I've got to head out."
"Why?" Monica wonders.
You sniff and start to get your things together in your tote bag. "My window is leaking in my bathroom and kitchen, so my super is going to check it out. Also, there's this weird substance on my windowsills that looks like dirt, but I swear to god if it's black mold I'm going to kill someone."
"Well, good luck," Chandler says, watching you take out your walkman and put the headphones around your neck.
"I'll be back in an hour or so," you tell them and start your mixtape. "See you guys later."
And then you head out. Chandler watches you through the window--which isn't creepy because it's so big. He watches you take out your lighter and light a cigarette before walking on your way. For someone who moved to the city a few months ago, you already seem very much at home.
The second the door closes, Joey moves to sit by Chandler and says, "Chan. If you don't ask her out, I'm going to."
"Yeah, why haven't you asked her yet?" Monica asks. "With the way your arm was behind her for an hour, someone would assume you guys are dating."
Chandler scoffs and shrugs, feeling his neck heat up. "I--I don't know. I think she's too cool for me."
"She's too cool for all of us," Ross says.
"I think she's into you." Phoebe pokes his leg and smiles. "She's always around you."
"Yeah, because I was the first person she met here and she's my friend."
"So? I think you'd have a shot." Phoebe tells him. "Her aura is brighter around you."
Chandler isn't sure what that means, but he shrugs anyway. "I--I don't know. I really think she's cool, I don't want to mess this friendship up."
His friends nod in understanding but Joey asks, "So, does this mean I can ask her on a date?"
"No!" he blurts out, perhaps too loudly because someone at a neighboring table turns to glare at him for a moment.
"Woah, okay, man." Joey holds his hands up in surrender. "I know now to mess with your girl."
Heat rushes to Chandler's cheeks and he huffs, feeling very uncomfortable. "Whatever."
~*~
An hour and a half later, you return to the coffee shop pissed out of your mind. You angrily open the door and let it slam shut behind you. Monica, Phoebe, and Ross are still here and all look at you when you approach. You're frowning, something they've never seen you do before, and your head looks like it's about to explode.
"Woah, what's up?" Monica asks as you dramatically sit between Ross and Phoebe. "You look pissed."
"Because I am," you snap, shedding your jacket. "There's black fucking mold in my apartment."
"Oh, gross!"
"No, it gets better," you add, looking between your friends while your heart thumps rapidly in your throat. "It's not just my apartment. It's the entire goddamn floor."
"Oh no!"
"That's awful."
Phoebe puts her arm around you and you lean into your side, feeling yourself calm down quickly as her scent of patchouli envelops you. "I asked how long it would take them to fix it, but the super said I had to move out for a week."
"For a week?" Monica asks.
You nod. "Yeah. I hate to ask, but could I maybe stay with you and Rachel? I'll chip in with food and stuff."
Monica smiles and says, "Yeah, of course. Phoebe was actually going to be spending the night too, we can have a girls' night."
"Oh, that's fun!" Phoebe exclaims, smiling.
You grin and feel your anger slip away. You're lucky to have these people as your friends. "Thanks."
~*~
Later that night, you're making drinks with Phoebe and Monica while dressed in your pajamas. You went to your apartment to pack your things and you're glad you did your laundry yesterday.
Rachel is out with her friends and you want to assume they're nice, but they give you snooty rich-girl vibes. Plus their screaming only made you more angry than you were before, but now that you've taken two shots of rum, you feel a little better.
You fire up the blender again on your famous Tiki Death Punch--which is really just a strawberry and pineapple daiquiri--while Phoebe gets the glasses out and the door opens.
"Hey, Rach," Monica greets, finishing up the cookie dough. "How was it with your friends?"
And then, in unison, you, Phoebe, and Monica scream, mocking what Rachel and her friends did. You giggle and take off the lid to analyze your work before unplugging the blender and moving toward the glasses. But when you look back up, Rachel does not look amused and you hiss through your teeth. "Anyway, you want some Tiki Death Punch?"
"What's that?" Rachel asks, sounding exhausted.
You finish pouring the third glass and answer, "Well, it's rum and--"
Rachel doesn't even let you finish before she's taken the pitcher from your hands and is sticking a straw through the liquid.
You blink at your empty hands. "Okay."
"We thought that Phoebe was staying over and Y/N is staying here for the week, we'd have kinda like a slumber party thing. We've got trashy magazines, we've got cookie dough, we got Twister."
"I brought Monopoly and Balderdash," you add, glancing at the phone as it rings.
"And I brought Operation," Phoebe says, walking towards Rachel, who looks miserable. "But, um, I lost the tweezers so we can't operate. But we can prep the guy!"
You smile at her enthusiasm.
With the phone in her hand, Monica walks towards Rachel and says, "Uh, Rach, it's the Visa card people."
She groans and rolls her eyes. "Oh, God, ask them what they want."
"Could you please tell me what this is in reference to?" Monica asks into the phone before lowering it down and addressing Rachel. "Um, they say there's been some unusual activity on your account."
"But I haven't used my card in weeks," Rachel says, sounding even more exasperated now.
"That is the unusual activity." Rachel stands and pinches the bridge of her nose as Monica adds, "Look, they just want to see if you're okay."
"They want to know if I'm okay? Okay, they want to know if I'm okay. Okay, let's see." Slowly, you take a sip each time she says okay. "Well, let's see, the FICA guys took all my money. Everyone I know is either getting married or getting pregnant or getting promoted and I'm getting coffee. And it's not even for me! So if that sounds like I'm okay, okay, then you can tell them I'm okay. Okay?"
You swallow your last sip and see that half of your drink is gone.
Monica slowly licks her lips and lifts the phone to her ear. "Uh, Rachel has left the building. Can you call back?"
"Alright, come on!" With her voice breaking and tears in her eyes, Rachel unfurls the game mat and says, "Let's play Twister."
"Oh, Rachel!" You walk over to her and lead her to the couch as she wipes her tears. "Come on, babe, it's okay, you're fine."
"No, I'm not!" she exclaims, sniffling. "Everyone I know is being more productive than I am."
Monica sits on the other side of her and rubs her arm. "Oh, come on. You should feel great about yourself. You're doing this amazing and independent thing!"
But she just rolls her eyes and asks, "Monica, what is so amazing? I gave up, like, everything! And for what?"
"You are just like Jack!" Phoebe exclaims from her spot on the table.
Looking at her, you squint. "Pheebs, I'm a little tipsy, but what are you talking about?"
"Jack from 'Jack and the Beanstalk'," she answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "See, he gave up something, but then he got those magic beans. And then he woke up and there was this--this big plant outside of his window full of possibilities and stuff. And he lived in a village and you live in the village."
Rachel holds up a hand to stop her. "Okay, but, Pheebs, Pheebs. Jack gave up a cow. I gave up an orthodontist. Okay? I--I know I didn't love him, but--"
"Oh, see, Jack did love the cow."
You sigh and take another long sip of your drink.
"But, see, it was a plan," Rachel continues. "You know? It was clear. Everything was figured out and now everything's just kinda like..."
She flails her hands around, searching for the word, and you suggest, "Floopy?"
"Yeah."
You put your hands back on her arm and say, "I've been there."
"Really?" she asks, looking at you.
You nod. "Yeah, I'm there right now. I mean, I want to be a famous screenwriter and probably a director. But I live in a shitty apartment with black mold and I work as a hostess." You laugh at yourself and continue. "I live, like, three thousand kilometers away from home in a whole new country. I was supposed to go to school for nursing because my mom and my dad are both doctors, but I changed my major halfway through and moved here." You smile at her and rub up and down her arm. "And I'm happy I did because I met you guys. And, sure, I kind of hate my job and I don't have any time to write and I pour oil down my drains to fuck with my landlord. But I'm doing my own thing, doing what I like. Not what everyone else is doing. Does that make sense?"
Rachel shrugs, but then she nods.
Monica puts a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, you've just gotta figure at some point it's all gonna come together, and it's just gonna be...un-floopy."
But then Rachel sighs and says, "Okay, but, Monica, what if--what if it doesn't come together?"
Monica rocks back and forth, searching for an answer, before quietly saying, "Pheebs?"
Phoebe puts her drink down and starts, "Well, 'cause you just like...I don't like this question. Y/N?"
You think about this question every night in bed, but you don't have an answer. And so you look around, muttering things under your breath so the heat will be off you.
"Okay, see, see you guys? What if we don't get magic beans? I mean, what if all we've got are...beans?"
Yeah, that's a thought that crosses your mind in the middle of the night too. And so you loudly slurp up the rest of your drink and pick up the pitcher. "I need more rum."
~*~
An hour and two pitchers of Tiki Death Punch later, you're all sitting in various positions in the living room. Phoebe is lying on the floor with her head on the ottoman and her hair over her face. Monica is eating cookie dough right out of the bowl with the wooden spoon. Rachel is lying across the couch with her legs in your lap. You're on your third drink and you're not even sure you can finish that. God, you're depressed, you really should get in touch with a pharmacist to get back on Prozac, but that's a hassle with the American healthcare system. Why can't it just be free like the rest of the world?
Rachel, who is changed into much comfier clothes, sighs and says, "I'm sorry, guys, I didn't mean to bring you down."
"No, you were right," Monica says, smushing the dough. "I don't have a plan!"
There's a knock at the door and that's the first time you've felt happy in forty-five minutes. "Thank Christ, food."
Rachel gets up to get the pizza and Monica says, "Phoebe?"
"Huh?" She flips her ponytail out from her face.
"Do you have a plan?"
She scoffs and says, "I don't even have a pla'."
Rachel swings the door open and a young teenage kid is standing there with pizzas. "Hi. One mushroom, green pepper, and onion?"
You almost burst into tears right then and there.
Rachel sighs. "No, no, no that's not what we ordered! We ordered a fat-free crust with extra cheese!" She also sounds like she's about to cry and lifts her fingers to her temple.
"Wait, you're not G. Stephanopoulos?"
"No."
"Oh, man, my dad's gonna kill me!"
Suddenly, Monica jumps across your legs and you almost piss yourself. Slowly, you and Phoebe follow as she asks the teenager, "Did you say G. Stephanopoulos?"
He nods. "Yeah, yeah, this one goes across the street. I must've given him yours. Oh, bonehead, bonehead." To be honest, him hitting himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand does make you smile a little.
"Wait, was this a--a small Mediterranean guy with curiously intelligent good looks?"
The kid nods. "Yeah, sounds about right."
"Was he wearing a stunning blue suit?"
"A--and a power tie?" Phoebe adds.
The kid shakes his head. "Nah, pretty much just a towel."
Monica's mouth drops and she leans on Phoebe for support like she's swooning. "Oh, god."
"So do you guys want me to take this back?" the poor kid asks.
"What? Are you nuts?" Monica seizes the pizza from his hand. "We've got George Stephanopoulos' pizza!"
While Rachel pays the kid, Monica rushes to the window and grabs the binoculars.
"Who is George Stephanopoulos?" you ask Phoebe.
But before she can answer, Monica shouts out, "I see pizza!"
Phoebe runs over to look, but you and Rachel stay by the pizza. You open it and almost start to salivate. You haven't eaten since lunch and you've been craving pizza all week.
"Who are we spying on?" Rachel wonders.
"You know the White House Advisor? Clinton's campaign guy, uh, the one with the great hair, sexy smile, and really cute butt?"
You laugh at her description and eat a piece of bell pepper. "No, but I wish I did."
Rachel nods. "Oh, yeah, the little guy! Oh, I love him!"
Together, you each take a piece of pizza and walk over to the window as Phoebe says, "Ooh, wait, I see a woman."
"Oh, please tell me it's his mother," Monica says.
You squint to try to see where she's looking, but it's too dark for you to see much.
And then Phoebe says, "It's definitely not his mother."
"Oh no."
"Oh, wait, she walking across the floor. She's walking, she's walking, she's going for the pizza." Angrily, Phoebe shouts out, "Hey, that's not for you, bitch!" Quickly, she covers her mouth and the four of you giggle. Rachel hands Monica her piece of pizza and you bite into your own.
Yeah, you don't need Prozac anymore, not if you have pizza and the girls.
~*~
A little while later, you're all out on the balcony. You're full of pizza and alcohol, but you're drinking water now. It's cold outside and there's a blanket over the metal chair you're sitting on and you're wearing the red sweatshirt Chandler gave to you a couple of weeks ago when you said you were cold. You forgot to give it back and maybe if you wear it you'll remember.
Monica comes back in with another pitcher of Death Punch and by now you're sure you've used up all your rum. But it's okay because you're having fun spying on his American politician with your friends.
"Are the lights still out?" Monica asks, climbing through the window.
"Yeah," Rachel says, binoculars still glued to her eyes.
"Well, maybe they're napping."
You scoff, straw halfway in your mouth. "Please, they're having sex, Mon."
"Shut up!" Monica and Phoebe shout at the same time.
You laugh, leaning your head back.
Everyone gets their drinks and sits back down when Rachel asks, "So what do you think George is like?"
"I think he's shy," Monica answers.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. I think you have to draw him out. And then...when you do, he's a preppy animal."
You all giggle and you feel like a schoolgirl again. You swat at her while she laughs and you laugh and so do Phoebe and Rachel.
Another half-hour later, you're all laughing and telling each other lies that you've told other people.
"Okay, okay I got one," Monica says and looks at Phoebe. "Do you remember that vegetarian pâté that I made that you loved so much?"
The vegetarian nods.
Monica snickers. "Well, unless goose is a vegetable!"
You and Rachel laugh while Phoebe screws her face up in disgust.
"Okay, fine, fine. Now I don't feel so bad about sleeping with Jason Hurley."
You sip on your water, having no idea who that is, but enjoying the way Monica's eyes widen. "What? You slept with Jason?"
"You were already broken up."
"How long?"
Phoebe shrugs. "Just a couple hours."
You laugh while Monica rolls her eyes.
Giggling, Rachel sits up. "Okay, okay, I got one." But since the pillow is leaning on the side of the wall, when she sits up, it falls to the balcony below. You smile as she continues. "Anyway. The Valentine Tommy Rollerson left in your locker was really from me!"
Monica looks at her friend. "Excuse me?"
Rachel returns to her original position. "Oh, hello? Like he was really gonna send you one." Monica rolls her eyes and Rachel adds, "She was a big girl."
You gasp and laugh.
"Well, at least big girls don't pee their pants in the seventh grade," she retaliates, leaning toward you and Phoebe.
Rachel gasps, "I was laughing! You made me laugh!"
As the two girls argue, movement catches your eye and you look across the street to where George lives and gasp, standing up. "Look, there he is!"
"Where?"
You blink, pointing at his huge windows. "Right where we've been looking all night."
Together, the four of you watch this man stand only clad in a towel. If you were sober, you'd feel bad.
"Oh, he's so cute," Rachel says.
"George, baby, drop the towel!" Monica exclaims.
In unison, you all chant "Drop the towel" and you're pretty sure he can hear you. Because then he does. And you gasp and all say, "Wow."
Heat rushes to your cheeks and you look away, giggling. "Okay, I don't know if Clinton is a good president, but I'll vote for him if that's his campaign manager."
The girls giggle and go back to their seats before you all can be arrested for spying.
"I have a question, Y/N," Rachel says, hopping back up on the ledge.
"What's up?"
"Are you interested in anyone right now?"
You raise a brow at the sudden question. "Well, now I'm interested in George Stephanopoulos."
Rachel rolls her eyes but smiles. "I can understand that."
Shrugging, you stir your water with your straw. "I mean, not really. I moved here a few months ago. I've been trying to figure my way around the city, I guess I haven't had much time to look at anyone like that."
"Then why are you wearing Chandler's sweatshirt?" Phoebe asks, smiling as she takes a sip of her drink.
You look down at the piece of fabric and rub it between your fingers. It's soft and thick and it reminds you of him. "He lent it to me the other week. I just...forgot to give it back."
"Okay," Phoebe says with a breathy laugh like she doesn't believe you.
You look at your friends and see that they all have the same expression--they suspect something. "W--what? No, it's not like that!"
"We didn't say anything," Monica assures you.
"You didn't have to." You take another gulp of your drink and feel some heat creep up your cheeks. "I don't know. He's my friend and I think he's cute, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now, you know?"
"Yeah, I do," Rachel agrees and you hear the truth in her voice. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay," you tell them. "I mean. Chandler is funny and he's really sweet, but, like, mentally I'm not ready." Something dawns on you and you grab Monica's arm with wide eyes. "Does he have a thing for me?"
"No," she answers easily. "No, have you met Chandler? He's the most socially awkward person I've met."
Slowly, you nod, staring down at your drink. "Okay, okay. Cool. 'Cause I don't want to make things awkward." And then you're quiet, still staring at your drink, before you put it on the small, dingy table and stand up. "I'm going to use the bathroom."
"Are you okay?" Phoebe asks as you wobble over to the window.
"Yeah," you answer, slowly folding yourself to go through it. Your vision is swimming a little. "I'm just drunk."
"We all are," Rachel says and watches as you go back into the apartment. When the door closes, she leans close to her friends and says, "No one tell Chandler."
Monica places a hand on her heart. "No, for sure. She's totally justified, though, I wouldn't want to date someone directly after moving to another country."
Phoebe nods. "Besides, Chandler is a big boy, he can figure out his own feelings." But then she adds after a moment, "Well, maybe not, but that's his problem."
Rachel and Monica chuckle and go back to spying on Stephanopoulos.
~*~
Later, the boys come back from their hockey game. Before you can ask who won, you see Ross wearing a brace over his nose. Chandler tells you that he was hit in the face with a puck and ended up having to go to the emergency room for a broken nose.
But Ross seems in happier spirits than he was before and that you're grateful for.
Eventually, Phoebe, Joey, Monica, and Rachel are playing a game of Twister while Ross flicks the spinner. You're making some more drinks with the remaining rum for the boys to have, figuring they need it after their night.
"What's the legal drinking age in Canada?" Chandler asks, watching you pour the last of your rum into the blender before placing the empty bottle to the side.
"Eighteen," you answer, measuring the sugar with your heart. "Well, actually, it's eighteen in Manitoba, Québec, and Alberta. Everywhere else it's nineteen."
Chandler breathes out a laugh. "It's twenty-one here."
"Can't men be drafted into war when they're eighteen?"
He nods. "Yeah. It's messed up."
You hum and fire the blender up, keeping an elbow on it and closing your eyes. You've had a long day. You're still mad about your apartment and having to squat at Monica and Rachel's for a week. You know they don't mind, but you still feel bad. You'll cook them dinner a few times, that'll be nice. You would clean, but Monica is very particular about it so you figure it's best to leave it be.
Opening your eyes again, you turn the blender off and serve it up, giving one to Chandler first. You clink your glass of water with his and giggle as he smiles. You both take a sip at the same time when Chandler suddenly takes your wrist and holds your arm up.
"This sweatshirt is familiar," he says, teasing evident in his tone.
You smile and shrug. "Some guy gave it to me."
"Is that guy going to get it back?"
You shrug again. "Eventually."
Chandler tilts his head then and says, "You keep it."
"What?" you ask in disbelief. "No, Chandler, it's yours."
He shrugs, resisting the extremely strong urge to run his hand up and down your arm. "It looks better on you."
You scoff. "It does not."
He nods, smiling. "It does." His eyes trail up your figure before landing on your face. "It makes your eyes pop."
"It makes my eyes pop?"
"Yeah."
Smiling just a little, you pull the sleeves over your hands. "Thank you, Chan."
And as you walk away to give Ross his drink, Chandler breathes. He's not entirely sure how he feels about you. You're hot, you're cool, but you're also his friend. And he just basically said your eyes are pretty.
He takes a long drink of your concoction, something called Tiki Death Punch, and pours himself some more. As if that will do anything to calm his nerves. Nothing can calm his nerves when he's with you.
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Sydcarmy is a standard TV show friends-to-lovers. Here’s why...fuck that...Here's Examples
I adore @hauntedinnoirfilter’s post on SydCarmy being friends-to-lovers, expressed cinematically though subtext, directorial and editorial choices. Check out the post because it left me feeling inspired and validated.
In honour of the soon-to-be happy couple, SydCarmy, here’s a list of canon and non-canon couples that were all coded in a way that had me screaming at the tv. All fun and in no particular order
Mild spoilers: various shows and ships will be mentioned but not in great spolierific detail
Friends/Monica × Chandler.
This is my favourite one because originally they were never written to be together---until they were.
They strangely have all these scenes beforehand that could be seen as foreshadowing. Chandler and Monica can be seen friendly cuddling up on the couch all the time, platonically. Unintentional acting choice because they were friends irl, sure...maybe...or is it foreshadowing the evitable because they were so comfortable together.
Twice they have a similar conversation of ‘if we're not married by the time we're X, why don't we get together', istg both times it's platonic af and played for laughs.
Despite starting off as just friends, they became the cornerstone couple. They looked after each other and made sense together. It was unexpected, but not unfounded.
TO BE A FRIENDS FAN AT THE TIME OF RELEASE!
Were the fans shook? Information I need to know.
In contrast, Rachel xJoey was just sad and wrong, and you can feel it whilst watching. JoeyxPhoebe, I wouldn’t be mad at, but really it is platonic and I love that for them. They know they’re the hot ones in the group, and that’s enough.
Also think character wise Syd gives off Moncler's energy: sarcastic self deprecating humour, with perfectionist tendency’s and they’re both chef’s (am I saying that i too am an awkward neurotic mix of Monica and Chandler...that’s a secret I’ll never tell).
Hold on, wait a damn minute…
Is Carmy also written in a similar way? With him being more rooted in the tragic past side of Chandler that has him trying to keep his anxiety at bay, with a side of Monica’s high strung NYC chef mentality.
Could it BE anymore obvious?
Ugly Betty/Daniel and Betty.
Boss/Employee-to-Friends-to-Lovers.
Betty was really doing up labour, which I hate for her, but she was there for Daniel through and through. She saw the best and worst in him, and really stood with him, for him and pushed him. Can’t be a selfish playboy for life if someone you admire believes in you? The wasted potential nepo baby troupe was really calling for Danny!
Betty became Daniel's best friend. I mean it the way I wrote it, this man needed a genuine friend and that was what he was lucky enough to receive from Betty.
He wised up to her incredible nature. He championed her…when he wasn’t being a foolish idiot. Jobs or boyfriends, he wanted the best for her. He loves her family like it’s his family and that makes me want to cry. That last episode 🫥😤😢🥰
He also had a brother he thought dead and was still grieving the loss and f - rest in peace Alex. ALEXIS IS HERE TO STAY!
We pray that SydCarmy firmly sticks the landing.
@post-woke and I did a whole thread on it - very fun, Ugly Bear AU.
Harry Potter/Hermione × Ron.
Idk whether they truly work together, as a jury member, I'm still out. But they knew each other when they were 11 and grew to appreciate one another. Jealous idiots. But... I do have to say the play portrays them really sweetly.
Harry Potter/Harry × Ginny.
Again not my ministry, there are hotter/cuter rare pairs*. But book Ginny is a little more kickass, defends Harry like a badass. He is so far gone on her he doesn't know what to do - that's his best friends little sister- scandalous.
* i'm not mad at Harry × Luna: shared weirdoness to the ma. Luna using positivity in order to cope, which he could have benefited from. There truth to all her weirdness shows its intelligence which I can fully stand behind. The Christmas party was their first date tbh.
^^If you know who these people are, I adore you. Remember the next line? 😏
Star Wars/Poe x Finn.
THE WAY OSCAR ISSAC PLAYED INTERGALACTIC SPACE FIGHTER PILOT BI-ICON, off 1 lip bite alone.
STFU and give this man his OSCAR.
An Oscar for Oscar. He really had the girlies fanfic-ing it up off flirtatious vibes. He made an acting choice and stands by that shit. Fuck Disney for the blue balls. Put that on a leather jacket! And Poe, Finn and I can share it.
X-files/ Mulder x Scully.
I haven't watched X-files but the girlies say it's fundamental viewing in mutual respect friends-to-lovers🫡 The pipeline or you might say the blueprint for SydCarmy
Gilmore Girls/Luke × Lorelei.
Curmudgeon lumberjack restaurant owner who adores weird-mildly awkward-mostly confident-quirky-well dressed woman that doesn't want to follow his rules.
Sound a little familiar.
Gilmore Girls lore states they've been dancing around the thing for YEARS! And Luke is WAY MORE down bad than she is, and it's been that way for a long time (Can SydCarmy dress as LukexLorelei for a costume party one year...? Can someone write an GG AU…? has anyone read that fic where Syd has a baby pre-canon? It is sensational reading).
Lorelei has a controlling dysfunctional mother and an only child whilst Luke is always coping with the loss of his father and the store he left him. He's also doing his best to hold the fort for his family (sister and nephew Jess) - pick your parallels.
Honourable mention: Suki × Jackson, business relationship-to-lovers. Chef x Produce guy...need I say more, take it up with Lou.
Games of Throne/Jamie × Brienne.
They are barely friends to start. Enemies-to-friends-to-lovers.
All the fic I've read, that man is DOWN BAD because of her superior skill and intellect. That shit is hot, competency is sexy. There’s a mutual admiration for what they’ve both been through.
HIMYM (some could call the millennial friends)/Robin and Barney.
They are same person different font. It was a shock when they got together, but it made sense. They had the best energy together, so compatible. The show ruined it for their own ego cyclical storyline. Ruined the fucking landing. Storer, learn from this mess pls.
Name a Disney Channel Original Movie, there is a(n) (unrequited) friends to lovers there somewhere. Has it fucked up my perspective on love, relationships and friendships... probably, but I'm busy kicking my heels and reading fanfic so I be staying indoors, where I can't get hurt. the movie always ends in the third act in my eyes tbh, safer at home.
Honourable mention to Jim and Pam from The Office. I ain’t never watched it but the people go up for this one.
^look at this man. He looks so happy, because he has his Syd
I'm definitely missing some which will piss me off when I remember* , but that's my soap box.
I'm here for the slow burn and the tension like a regency period drama. Give me that Bridgerton shit, where holding Syd's hand will be a shock to Carmy's whole system and world view. She's scared to be seen with him in alone public, just in case it's misconstrued and they need to get married to protect her modesty and the respectability of her family, the House of Adamu. (Can you tell I’m frothing at the mouth for bridgerton season 3? Another friends-to-lovers that requires the MMC to grovel on his hands and knees, as soon as the the series starts)
Tldr: if they were just friends, they wouldn’t be smiling in each others faces like that. That’s not how TV works!
I’m hyped for the season 6 kiss, then the 2+ additional seasons of consensual staring and heart eyes and a wedding.
If you have ships I didn’t mention but think I should watch, pls let me know!
*Janine and Gregory from Abbott Elementary! Its been weeks since I drafted it and now I remember. I'm feeling lazy as fuck - watch the show, this the blueprint.
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