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clarawatson · 3 years

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It Only Takes A Taste (3)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded stuff, but I’m not sure where this is going as a larger work so we’ll say Fem!reader to be safe) Summary: Jack comes for dinner, I guess. W/C: 2345 Warnings: none yet! A/N: this one got a little long, oopsies. AO3 Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

The bed had been so warm and comfortable you hadn't wanted to get out, but the thought of seeing Aaron again made your heart grow three sizes. You'd been texting back and forth for the last couple of days, just small awkward stuff. He likes to text emojis. He's precious. Of course he's precious.

He comes in as you're serving your first customer of the night—a sobbing thirty-year-old man who can't even order his pie without spluttering in tears. Is it favouritism to get excited by Aaron turning up? Yes. Is it worth it? Yes.

"Hello," you smile. There's a hundred things you could have called him, but he's too cute and your brain doesn't want to work.

"Hi," he grins back. "Can I have a coffee, please. Here."

"Yes you can." Aaron splits his bill between the counter and the tip jar. "How was your day, Aaron?"

"Boring paperwork. Couldn't concentrate."

Concern furrows your eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No! I kept thinking about seeing you." There's that sunshine smile again. You might even match it yourself. He points to the cake that's still in the display tin. He's in earlier in the night than usual, so there's a lot more range to choose from. "Is that carrot cake?"

"Sure is. Do you want some?"

"Please."

You serve him a slice and let the coffee machine splutter and fight with you. He stabs his cake with his fork and looks like he has an out of body experience the moment the cream cheese icing hits his tongue. That's a face you want to see again under different circumstances.

"Joe?"

"Me! And Joe's recipe. I sort of mixed it together and prayed."

"Then mark me a religious man." Aaron smiles. You can't held but smile back at him.

"It's a bit early for you to be in," you say. It's not an issue, just means you got the earlier shift. Finishing at 1am instead of 7am. Plus, Aaron looks nice in the daytime. Very nice. The afternoon light suits him.

"Didn't have a case," he shrugs.

You've googled him since getting his business card. “Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner, Section Chief of the BAU”. The fuck did that even mean? BAU was the Behavioural Analysis Unit, which was still mainly a mystery, but you think it’s maybe just an over-glorified way of saying ‘they look inside people’s heads and hope for the best’. He’s got a handful of news reports that you’ve practically memorised.

Okay, that’s a little obsessive. Don’t admit that to him.

He wasn’t the ‘untouched by darkness’ that you’d thought of him before, his work face held all the darkness his smile did not. You hoped you never had to see the serious man who stood before the cameras.

“How’s Rita?” Aaron asks. He’s cut the top off his carrot cake, saving it for later. He looks at it longingly every now and then, then he scoops just a little bit of the cream cheese and lets it rest on his tongue.

“She’s good. Restless. She’s happy for the due date to arrive.” She’d also asked you to be the baby’s godparent. Rather forcefully, actually, it had felt a bit strange. That was the only reason you hadn’t jumped at the opportunity. You’d do anything for Rita, but saying yes in that instant would had felt strange. Almost… wrong, maybe.

Aaron knows you’re thinking about it. He puts his fork down and shifts in his chair, waiting for you to continue. He doesn’t fill the silence between the two of you. You think about telling him, but then Lola’s bustling through the door and grabbing her apron.

“Hot stuff, when can I go for a smoke break?” is the first thing Lola says to you. She pulls chewing gum out of her mouth (yes, pulls. She sticks her fingers in her mouth and pulls it out as far as it will go without snapping) and Aaron moves his cake around his plate a bit. Does he not like it? Don’t be silly, he asked for it. Requested it. Whatever. You put his three cookies into a plastic bag and slide it across the counter to him.

“Lola you only just came in.”

“But I want to know,” she whines like she’s a teenager with an after school job, not a thirty-five-year-old woman who works at the diner full time. “Hey, Rita’s been acting weird, right? Is that a pregnancy thing, or?” Lola rubbed her nose on the back of her wrist and sniffs. An action you’re all too familiar with by now, and of course she was doing illegal substances in the bathroom before she started her shift when there’s a legitimate federal agent in the diner.

“Oh,” Lola says as she looks at Aaron. She looks at you, raises her eyebrows, and nods like she’s impressed. “I take back telling Rita she was a liar." Even without knowing the context of Rita and Lola's conversation, you know Rita had told Lola how pretty/handsome/gorgeous Aaron is. "I’m going to go clean some tables.”

She grabs the cleaning supplies and heads out into the dining area. The door swings open, banging against one of the booths, and you’re immensely glad Lola doesn’t scream 'watch it’ at them. A curly haired blonde woman (gorgeous, mind you) touches Aaron’s shoulder and he sits up straight, smiling, and your heart plummets a little bit. Just the tiniest amount.

“Jack insisted we switch over here before I go to parent/teacher interviews.” As if on queue, a well mannered, sandy-haired boy sits next to Aaron and grins too much like Aaron. Aaron’s son. You can put two and two together. Profiler or not.

“How was school?” Aaron asks. Jack shrugs.

“It was school.” He learnt that from his dad, there’s no question.

“Well, in that case. Jack, this is my friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Jack.” Jack extends a hand to shake in greeting and looks really shy about it. You shake it quickly so he doesn’t feel like a kid who’s been roped into doing adult things. There’s a pile of colouring-in pages Joe’s printed off at the local library beneath a cup of crayons that Jack’s eyeing off.

You grab a sheet and a crayon, raising an eyebrow in invitation as you turn around to Jack.

“Yes please,” he says, grin growing across his face. “Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome. Wonderful manners.” Jack grins even bigger and you think he, too, might combust just like his dad. Stardust! That’s the movie you were thinking of. When Yvaine sees Tristan she shines, literally, the star inside of her just can’t be contained. That’s Aaron and Jack, and the way they look when they smile.

Aaron’s sister-in-law looks at you with a cocked head, like a curious cat. Like she’s waiting to pounce. But… curiously pounce. Like she's sussing you out. She extends a hand in greeting.

“Jess. Aaron’s talked about you.”

There’s no response but to look sheepish. This seems to greatly please Jess, who smiles softly and rubs the back of Aaron’s head affectionately. They have a long history together, it’s too familial to be just a relationship born through marriage.

“I’ll see you later then, Rockstar,” Jess says.

“Bye,” Aaron and Jack say together. Aaron rests his cheek on his hand, watching you as Lola hands you three orders she’s taken while you’ve been talking to Aaron. Jack leans over and whispers to Aaron about his homework (it’s a whisper that belongs on a stage) as you wrestle with the coffee machine.

It’s been grinding it’s way down to not working for a while now. Ever since you met Aaron, actually. Joe’s said he’s going to fix it, or get a new one, but everyone’s in a state of non-commital until Rita has her baby.You’ve got no idea why, it’s just the way things are. Good luck, maybe? Or luck in general?

Somehow you get Aaron talking about Shakespeare. It might have been Jack’s doing, to be completely honest, but one moment you’re trying to make the froth… well, froth… and the next you're listening to Aaron talk animatedly about Othello. Jack's young enough to not think his Dad's passion is embarrassing.

"Have you watched Othello?" Jack asks, a question that Aaron's neglected to ask you. "I'm not old enough to yet."

"I haven't seen that one yet, but I've seen Much Ado About Nothing."

"Is that the one with the olive gardens?" Jack asks. Aaron frowns, eyes searching for the answer in that big beautiful minds tonight.

"Yes," he says finally. "That was the one with the olive trees."

Jack giggles. "There was kissing in that movie."

"Lots of it," Aaron agrees. You're not sure you're talking about the same film, but it's cute to see the two of them interact.

"With the guy who plays Lockhart in the second Harry Potter movie?" You ask. Jack laughs just like his father. It's all light and mirth. He nods in confirmation.

"His name is Kenneth," Jack says like he's familiar with him. When Aaron smiles, you know Jack's his whole world.

It’s not long before Aaron realised he’d brought Jack in without asking if he wanted anything. The afternoon rush had died down, leaving you in the space between out-of-work and dinner. You make the most chocolate-y hot chocolate you can for Jack when Aaron says he can have one. Well, Jack says the best bit is the froth, so it’s more child-size-hot-chocolate-in-an-adult-mug-full-of-froth. Jack loves it. He slurps at the chocolate, which leaves a giant frothy mustache over his top lip that won’t go away no matter how much he licks at it.

When he’s done you let him come around to the kitchen to wash his face, because no amount of wet napkins is going to fix that mess. Jack can’t reach the sink, so you fashion a step out of old milk and bread crates. Joe gives him cake batter to taste before realising that he actually has no idea who Jack is. Aaron watches from the kitchen door with a smile on his face. You don’t catch it until Jack jumps off the crates and takes your hand, leading you back out. Aaron’s fingers brush your hand as you pass him. Electricity sparks between the two of you that's completely unavoidable. The two of you recoil involuntarily.

Aaron gives you a small smile of apology. You give exactly the same one back. Lola legitimately gasps like she too felt the electricity between the two of you. Surely that was just something that happened in movies? Or in books? That’s not a real thing, right? But Aaron brushes past you again, as if he’s making sure as well, and it’s there again. Only it’s like your whole arm becomes pins and needles, not just a quick lightning spark.

If it’s like that every time you’re with him, your not sure you could even go beyond lusting after him and giving him coffee and meals every now and then. Aaron drops his gaze, then follows Jack to the front of the counter.

They stay for dinner (because Jack insists, he wants the nachos) but the rush comes early and there’s really not much time to talk to them, so you almost miss them leaving. Almost. You’re serving the angry couple at table three (are they angry at you, or each other? Who knows, you don’t, but they’re taking it out on you) when Jack taps your hip.

He’s very patient as you finish the order (somehow you figure out what they want between the curse words) and bend down to him. He hands you a folded piece of paper.

“This is for you,” he says. “I did it.” You’re about to unfold it, but he insists that it belongs in your apron pocket until you can look at it with no rush. That’s a kid who knows what it’s like to have a very busy parent. So you tuck it away safely and mess with his hair, which makes him grin from ear to ear.

“See you later!” Jack yells as he runs to Aaron, who’s waving goodbye with a doggy bag full of Jack’s unfinished dinner.and his keys between his fingers.

“I’ll see you later,” he mouths as the noise in the diner starts to rise. Without thinking you blow him a kiss, which he catches effortlessly and kisses the fist closed around it before slipping out.

When you get to the kitchen Lola’s already in the midst of teasing you.

“You like him,” she says with all the confidence in the world. There’s not point denying her, so you just nod. It’s met by a chorus of ‘ooo’s which, to be honest, you really didn’t need. It made the diner feel far too small.

When everything dies down you remember the paper Jack had given you. You wipe the milk and spaghetti sauce off the counter, then make sure it’s dry, and unfold Jack’s page. It’s the generic colouring page Joe’s printed out, but Jack’s tried to make the generic waitress look like you. Well, you if you had purple hair and green skin. It’s a start, you guess, there’s an apology from Aaron on the back. Makes it worth it.

You move a couple of postcards on the corkboard aside and put Jack’s picture there instead. Joe pretends not to notice, but when Lola goes out the back with one of her customers, Joe comes round the front and presses a finger to the page.

“Good kid,” Joe says. He nods a couple of times then turns to you. “You know he and his dad come as a package, right? You fuck up one, you fuck up both.” Joe’s first wife had three kids that weren’t biologically his. He’s still mad at himself for not taking the kids seriously and only turning up for their mom.

“I know,” you say.

Joe strokes your cheek as he passes and kisses your forehead. It’s all the praise you need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#It Only Takes a Taste #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #Diner!AU

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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VALERIE - Part V. (Harry Styles)

happy sunday loves!! part 5 is here, buckle up bc we are getting down to business here!! thank you so much for the nice feedbacks, it’s always so moving and inspiring to read your thoughts, so please keep them coming! even if it’s just some gibberish rambling, those are the best haha! now let’s jump right into part 5, we are heading into the christmas mood and im so excited for yall to read this part!! enjoy!

word count: 6.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

By the time November nears its end you officially become a couple with Marcus. It happens gradually, two more dates follow your first one, and then on the third one you agree to test the waters of the possibilities between the two of you exclusively.

Marcus is a great guy. He is funny, caring and smart, always listens to you and cares for even the smallest details about you when you’re talking. He is great company and never fails to make you feel appreciated and wanted. Exactly what you’ve been looking for in a guy, Rosa really hit the nail on the head this time.

You easily fall into a habit with him. Fridays are for date nights, sometimes you go for little trips outside the city on Sundays and he never misses a chance to send you flowers throughout the week. He is just the type of guy that’s always there to cheer you up with something whenever the days start to weigh down on your shoulders.

You even have dinner together with Rosa and Steven one Saturday evening, Rosa keeps giving you those ‘I told you so’ eyes whenever Marcus kisses you shortly or places his hand to your waist. You mostly just roll your eyes at her, not wanting to make a big deal out of the two of you, but Rosa knows how long you’ve been trying to find someone.

What’s a surprising turn is that you start seeing Harry more. Intentionally. You have no idea how it happens, but it does and you’re not mad about it. Some days you grab lunch together whenever he is in the neighborhood, some days you go shopping with him when his sister doesn’t have the time. Harry is a problematic shopper, he takes a long time to decide on clothes so usually you are the one that forces him to choose and finish before all shops close.

When he has had a rough week and you happened to call him for whatever reason, the two of you agree to meet up for drinks at his place, then end up playing UNO for hours, slowly emptying out two bottles of wine.

It’s starting to get harder to imagine what it was like when things weren’t like this with him. When you were getting anxiety from just the thought of seeing him or having to talk to him. It’s like the both of you are showing a different version of yourselves to each other and you have to admit you enjoy being friends with him.

He keeps his habit of teasing you and making jokes about you though, but you don’t mind it. He is not doing it in a mean way with the attempt to piss you off, but to make you laugh and start a playful war where you both throw insults at each other until one of you runs out of it and just starts laughing. You feel a kind of dynamic building between you and him that has a way better effect on you than the continuous killing you were doing before.

You can tell Rosa is thankful for the change as well. Whenever she sees you interact with Harry without making a grimace or have that face that screams how badly you want to hit him, she is relieved that she has one less thing to worry about and Valerie will have two amazing godparents who even like each other.

Christmas is always a big parade in your family. Your mom and your aunts always want to celebrate together so in the past few years it has become a tradition to rent a place out that has enough space for the whole extended family and spend three days there from the 23rd to the 25th. This year your dad found a huge cabin in the woods with ten bedrooms and seven bathrooms, just the perfect size for you all. It’s gonna be your parents, Rosa and Steven with Valerie, Aunt Monica, Aunt Teresa with Uncle Andrew, your cousin Etta, her husband Joe and their two kids, your other cousin Lily with her husband Jeremy and their daughter, and lastly you and Harry. Though your mom urged you to invite Marcus along as well, he could join you for longer than a dinner, since he was already set to fly home to his family.

“You sure he can’t stay for at least the first night?” you mom asks on the phone one evening. You’re stirring the sauce in the pan. holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder so you have both of your hands free.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s fine, he can come for dinner and then leave later.”

“I get it, but it would have been fun if he stayed,” she sighs, clearly disappointed that she couldn’t change what’s already set. If you’re being honest you don’t mind that Marcus is not staying for the night. You haven’t been dating for that long, you feel like it would be a little uncomfortable to have him there the whole time. A dinner is perfectly fine as a starter, since he hasn’t met anyone else from your family other than Rosa and Steven.

“Anyway,” she sighs moving on, “Have you figured it out how you’re gonna get there?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’ll tag along with someone.”

“Well, I think you should ask Harry. Everyone else is pretty packed already. Rosa and Steven won’t have any extra space with Valerie this year.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. These past years Rosa always offered you a ride for the holidays, but even when they brought her over for just one night their car was jam-packed. No way you’re gonna fit in there so you are left with Harry since Marcus can only come in the afternoon.

“Sure, I’ll ask him.”

You shoot him a text that day and he replies right away that you’re welcomed in his car, though he won’t be able to take you back since he is leaving early in the morning on the 25th since he is flying back to the UK to his family. It’s fine, you think, you’ll just probably just tag along with aunt Monica back to the city, she always gets her a car for these occasions. Though it’s not your ideal option, she is not the best partner for rides, because she is a fan of smoking in the car, but you don’t have much of a choice.

“I’ll call you when I leave, okay?” Marcus tells you on the morning of the 23rd. It’s early, barely seven, but he is up because he needs to work a little today and you are finishing up packing since Harry will be here in an hour to pick you up.

“Sure. Drive safe,” you huff sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your suitcase that’s still not closed, clothes are sticking out on the side and you’re sure you’ll have to sit on it to pull the zipper.

“See you later,” Marcus says before you end the call.

It’s rather comical how you try to close the suitcase but you only care about the fact that you eventually succeed. Only minutes before eight you are packed and ready so when you get Harry’s text that he is outside you can leave right away.

Seeing you with your big suitcase he hops out of the car and rushes to help you.

“How long are you planning to stay, Y/N?” he chuckles lifting the bag up and you just shrug your shoulders with a smirk. You’ve alway been a heavy packer, no need to try to cover it up.

Harry throws your stuff into the back of the car as you take the passenger seat. His phone is hooked to the car, a playlist of his own playing gently through the speakers and you’re surprised to catch on the Christmas feeling in the songs.

“Are you in the spirit?” you ask when he gets into the car.

“Like to set the mood ahead,” he chuckles starting the car and off you go.

Ridiculous to think about it, but it’s actually the first time you sit in the same car with Harry or see him drive even. The way you two used to be was not quite ideal to have you locked up in such a small place as a car. But now you have nothing against spending the almost hour long drive with him.

“Can you pull out the navigation when I leave the highway? I’m not sure where exactly I need to head,” he asks you, eyes fixed on the road ahead of him and nodding you open the app on your phone so his can keep on playing the music without the voice of the navigation interrupting it.

“Excited to spend your first Christmas with us?” you ask. Though Harry was there at several family events, it’s his first Christmas since becoming Valerie’s godfather.

“I am,” he chuckles, nodding, hands gripping the wheel gently. He is a natural driver, easily working the car, the kind you feel completely safe next to. As Baby It’s Cold Outside comes on a smile stretches across your lips as you start gently bop your head to the song. “I’ve heard crazy stuff about Christmases at your family,” he adds glancing in your way for a second.

“Like what?”

“I remember when Steven told me about his first Christmas with your family. You remember that?”

Searching in your memories you tried to remember when was the first time Rosa brought Steven along. They dated for two years before they got married so it’s been about five years since then, but as you think hard the memory of that specific year pops into your head making you laugh as you nod.

“Oh, yes. The year Aunt Monica almost burned the Airbnb down,” you sigh grinning at the memory. She brought some special kind of cigars that year that were told to be curiosities from somewhere fancy, but they ended up the literal worst quality, flaming bits were falling out them all the time when she would smoke one, almost making the rug catch on fire wherever she went. Best thing is that she was already drunk on the liquor so she didn’t even notice, there was always a person on Aunt Monica duty, following her around, making sure nothing burnt down.

“Steven said he had a moment when he thought about bailing,” Harry tells you and you gasp, because that’s new information.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but like only for a split second after your dad walked in on him naked in the bathroom. That was kind of the last straw. Luckily Rosa could convince him to stay. Guess it all worked out at the end.” Harry smiles as he stares ahead of him.

You can’t imagine a version where Rosa and Steven don’t end up together. They met through a mutual friend not long after Rosa had a nasty breakup with her scumbag ex. Steven was there to put her back together and be her partner as she found herself again. The change and positive impact he had on her could be seen every day and you were so thankful to him for helping your sister find her way out of such a dark place in her life. It didn’t take them too long to start dating and he proposed a little more than a year later. You still remember how Rosa was screaming in the phone when she called you that evening telling you that Steven proposed. They are quite literally a match made in heaven. It’s been your goal in life to find this person in your life though you haven’t had much luck with men so far. Ironically, if you were in a room with every man you were ever involved with in any kind of way, Harry would be the only one you’d want to talk with. If you had to make this exact same choice just months ago you would have chosen to run out screaming.

“Maybe this year it’s your turn to get horrified from us,” you laugh, sinking down a little in your seat as you adjust the seat belt. You’re still quite far away from the cabin, you might as well make yourself comfortable.

“I think there’s not much that I haven’t witnessed yet. I was walked in on at the bathroom once too, but it was your cousin, Etta.”

“When did that happen?” you ask with a heartfelt laugh.

“I think it was last summer at one of your nieces’ birthday party. Luckily everything was already tucked away when she basically barged in.”

“She didn’t miss much,” you tease him with a smirk and your witty comment catches him by surprise.

“Are you saying my dick is not imposing enough to be worthy of peeking?” he asks with raised eyebrows and you’re happy he is driving. His intimidating look would already burn right into your skin by now, but he is forced to watch the road instead.

“I mean, if you want to put it that way…” you continue, but a laugh escapes your lips.

“Take that back, Y/N,” he orders, sneaking a hard look at you before turning back ahead, but you can see the small smile hiding on his lips.

“Or what?”

“Or you might find yourself in a war you don’t want to be involved in,” he warns you, but his words don’t quite have the effect on you he wanted. Because in a heartbeat you find yourself feeling… excited? Thrilled? Even curious about his means behind his words.

“Wouldn’t want to lie, so…” Pretending like you’re sorry you shrug your shoulders as Harry gives you a look that makes your stomach churn. Now either you are gonna have some fun teasing each other or… you just threw yourself into the arms of the Devil himself. Either way, you’re certain Harry won’t leave it in that.

Turning your head to your window you can’t keep your smile contained as you think of the fact that how big of a lie it was. Harry is surely not a guy who should ever worry about any aspect of his manhood. You’re talking from experience.

***

The cabin is absolutely gorgeous, just the perfect place for a cozy family holiday. Hidden from the busy roads with a secure gate and tall trees on both sides, the back of it is facing a majestic view of the valley and the evergreen covered hill in the distance. With an interior straight from the pages of a magazine, you need just a few moments to adjust to your surroundings upon arriving.

“I saved a nice room for you, Harry!” your mother gushes the moment she sees the two of you walk through the front door. You huff in annoyance.

“And what about me?”

Harry chuckles giving you a smug grin. “Guess you’re just second after me.”

“It’s his first Christmas with us, he deserves the better room,” your mom shushes at you, making your eyes roll instantly. It’s still hard to believe Harry has this kind of charm over most people.

After greeting everyone who is already there, your dad, Aunt Teresa and Etta with her family, your mom walks the two of you down one of the hallways that leads to several bedrooms. She stops at the last door with an excited grin on her face as she opens it revealing the bedroom behind it.

You instantly understand why she thought this is the best one. The view is absolutely breathtaking, the gentle noon light is flowing into the room through the floor to ceiling windows, the king sized bed facing them so when you wake up in the morning the first thing you see is the endless sea of evergreens on the side of the hill. Not to mention the room has its own bathroom, not many of the other rooms are blessed with that. There’s a spacious shower that has enough space for at least three people in there and it’s one of those fancy ones that can make you feel like you’re having a shower in the middle of a jungle, mood lights and bluetooth speakers attached to it.

“No fucking way Harry is getting this room!” you gasp as you look around, taking in the luxure your mother is willing to hand over to him.

“Jealous, much?” he smirks, throwing his sports bag to the bed already ruining the neatly made sheets. He does not deserve this.

“Mom!” you huff turning to her, but she has made her mind up already.

“Your room is nice too, don’t worry Honey. Let Harry have this one!”

“I really can’t believe you are taking his side,” you grumble under your breath, folding your arms on your chest as you take one last look at the stunning view.

“Come on, Y/N. He is a guest!”

“He is not! You said it yourself he is family now!” you retort and Harry just laughs behind you, so you shoot him a murderous look over your shoulder, that just fuels his entertainment.

“Don’t be silly. Your room is the second one on the right from here,” she smiles at you. “We are gonna take a walk around once everyone arrives, so get settled by then!” she informs you before walking out.

“Hey,” Harry’s soft voice makes you turn around. “You can have the room if you want.”

Your eyebrows rise at the kind gesture, it’s very not like him, even now in your friendly state, so it’s quite odd that he is willing to switch rooms with you.

“No need,” you shake your head grabbing the handle of your suitcase that you abandoned at the door.

“You sure? It doesn’t matter where I’m sleeping, really.”

“I’m not gonna deal with my mother’s scolding if she finds out I took your room, so you can totally stay.”

Harry chuckles as you head out, but stop at the door to have one last word with him. “Though I might occupy your bathroom, that shower looks nice.”

“All yours,” he grins before you walk out.

***

By 11 am everyone arrives and the once quiet cabin is now buzzing from life, children running around, Valerie’s babbling shoots through the spacious living area where Rosa set her crib up, your mother is already making preparations for dinner while most of the men are circled around the pool table having a beer since no one has to drive for the rest of the day.

“When is Marcus arriving?” Rosa asks, eyes on Valerie who is absolutely destroying something that once were an elephant maybe, but she’s been ruthless with the poor animal, chewing and throwing it around all the time, so it’s not just a grey, fuzzy mess.

“Sometime before dinner. He has some work to finish,” you tell her pulling your legs under yourself on the comfy couch.

“And explain again, why isn’t he staying for the night?” she turns to you with a puzzled look.

“Because he is going home to his family early in the morning tomorrow.”

“Okay, but he could have just left from here, didn’t he?”

“It’s… complicated. It’s better if he just goes back home tonight and then leaves from there in the morning.”

What you leave out of the whole explanation is that you didn’t really invite him to stay the night as well. Sounds horrible and ridiculous but you didn’t think you’d have felt comfortable with him staying. You’ve been dating for only barely more than a month and though things are going well, you felt like starting with just a dinner would be a better idea. Marcus didn’t question why you didn’t offer him to stay, it seemed like he was fine with just coming and then going after dinner.

Does this make you a bad girlfriend? Maybe, but you value your comfort and feelings more than to ruin your favorite holiday with your family.

Just as you mom said, once everyone is settled in their rooms for the upcoming three days, the whole gang dresses up to have a walk around taking the welcoming little path that runs around the cabin and is smooth enough for Valerie’s carriage as well. Your nieces and nephew are quick to surround Harry and nag him to join them at the front, exploring the woods surrounding the path. It seems like he doesn’t mind it and gladly takes part in the adventure, also secretly looking after them so their parents can have a break and enjoy the stroll in hopes the walk tires the kids out enough that they’ll willingly go to bed in the evening instead of whining to stay up late.

You’re walking with Etta next to you as she tells you about Hannah’s latest dance competition when you spot that Harry and Oliver, your nephew, Etta’s other kid are suspiciously whispering around pointing in your direction. At last Olly nods and runs up to you showing a quite thick piece of wood into your hand. You look down at him confused.

“Thank you?” you tell him a little unsure what it’s all about.

“I found it in a bush, I want to take it home. Harry said you’ll keep it for me because you have a good hand for thick and hard sticks.”

You almost choke on your own breath, as Olly just carelessly runs back ahead to join his sister. You immediately look over to Etta in fear that she heard what Harry told Oliver, but luckily she was talking with Joe turning back, not really paying attention to the conversation you just had with her son. If she did, Harry probably wouldn’t live by now.

Speaking of the devil, you look in his way and that annoying, smug grin is right there as he nods in your way saluting before he shows his hands into his pockets and turns back around to catch up with the kids.

That disgusting piece of shit really went into the depth of teaching something secretly dirty to your nephew as a way of payback for your comment in the car earlier. He surely wasn't just joking when he said you’d pay for what you said. And you have a feeling he is just getting started.

***

Aunt Monica is like a legend in your family. She is the oldest between your mom and her sisters, already in her sixties, but in the heart she still feels like she has just turned twenty. She never married, but had several men in her life, love affairs, short flings, but none of them lasted for more than a year.

“Why would I settle when there’s so many fish in the sea?” she once told you, her iconic Chanel sunglasses sat on her nose as she sipped on her martini.

She has worked many jobs throughout her life, she was once a dancer, she waited tables and even worked as a TV host at one point in the ‘80s. She was the true free spirit of the family, her sisters often questioned her sanity, but you think there’s nothing wrong with how she lived her life, enjoying it to the last bit. In the early ‘90s she was seeing a millionaire, probably the only man she would have given her lifestyle up for. Unfortunately, they never married, the man passed away due to his heart problems, however, since he had little to zero family he left basically everything to Aunt Monica. Money, house, cars, business, everything. Being the smart woman that she is, she handed over the business into professional hands but she is still the owner, so the money is still flowing even though she could have lived happily on the money she inherited without ever having to work a day.

She seems a little odd in your family, but she has always been a loving aunt to you, a caring sister and she never fails to take care of her loved ones. She is the one to pay for all these Christmas getaways, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to stay in places this nice.

“What’s all the money for if I don’t spend it on my family?” she always says when someone questions if she is fine with paying for everything. Your mom and Teresa have tried to convince her to let them at least pay for part of it but she wouldn’t even listen to them.

She likes to have her own, sometimes odd ways in life. She definitely has a drinking problem, but not in a dangerous way. You have never seen her completely wasted, she just likes to keep things buzzing and always have a drink on her whenever she needs the extra fun. Because of her past she has the greatest stories about meeting famous people back in the days or how soldiers used to try to win her over when she was just a teenager.

“Oh, those things happened,” your mom told you when one day you questioned if you could believe all the crazy stories Aunt Monica tells you. “She was like… the star of the show. Used to hate living in her shadow, but I can’t blame her for enjoying life and doing the things I was too afraid to do myself.”

Now you’re sitting in the sunroom that faces the amazing view behind the cabin, the Christmas tree is standing tall in the corner, beautifully decorated in white and beige. Valerie is snuggled up to your chest as you gently rub her back and you listen to Aunt Monica tell you about how a literal captain once proposed to her after just three days of knowing each other.

“He was a gentleman, but a beast in the bed, Y/N. I’m telling you, men in uniform are just a different level of satisfaction.”

She sighs deep, taking a sip from her margarita that’s definitely not her first drink, and you just laugh nodding.

“He was begging for me to go to Italy with him.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“Who said I didn’t?” she asks with a pretentious hurt look turning to you and you just laugh. You should have known the story would go this way. “I accepted the offer, only turned down his proposal when we sailed off and then we parted as soon as I stepped onto the land of Italy. Broke his heart into pieces, but I was too busy enjoying the Italian summer.”

Harry comes in and hands you a bottle filled with juice that probably Rosa sent for Valerie.

“Thank you,” you smile at him shortly as you adjust the little girl in your arms and hand her the bottle.

“Young boy, have you ever proposed to someone?” Aunt Monica asks Harry who stops in his way as he was already about to head out, but now he walks back to the sofa where she is sitting.

“No, not yet,” he shakes his head.

“And how do you think you would if the time came?”

You watch Harry think to himself at the odd and quite random question. It’s not really something you would have ever asked him, but now that there’s the chance to hear his answer you are listening curiously.

“Depends on the woman I’m proposing to,” he replies after a few seconds.

“How would you propose to Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you turn to your aunt with shock all over your face. You definitely didn’t want yourself dragged into this.

“Aunt Monica, that’s--”

“Shush! I’m just asking theoretically. Wanna hear his answer.”

Harry’s eyes wander over to your sitting figure on the sofa as he leans onto the back of the one in front of him. You can feel the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks under his burning look and you just know he enjoys how nervous you got from this simple question that wasn’t even asked from you.

Licking his lips he moves his eyes from you over to Aunt Monica who is still waiting for his answer.

“Something romantic, but not too grandiose, I know she doesn’t like being in the center of the attention that much. Maybe…” Tapping on his chin you listen to his words and without even realizing you hold your breath. “Maybe on a hike with a nice view. She would be admiring the view when I get down on one knee and as she turns around I pop the lid on the box.”

What bugs you is that it’s an awfully accurate description of how you’d imagined your proposal. He was right about many aspects, like how you don’t like being in the center of attention. No idea how he nailed so easily, but he did.

Glancing down you pretend to be busy with Valerie who is still peacefully drinking her juice, eyes wandering around the room relentlessly.

“So you really look to satisfy her deepest fantasies, careful about even the smallest details. Women appreciate it,” Aunt Monica nods, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable she just made you feel.

“Thank you, I do like to satisfy women,” Harry cheekily answers with a smirk, eyes locking with yours for a moment as Aunt Monica lets out a laugh at the dirty comment. Before you could bite your tongue a retort slips out of your mouth.

“What a shame you don’t always succeed.”

Harry’s eyes turn from playful to dark pretty quickly and you enjoy the victory over him. Your comment in the car earlier already wounded his manhood, now it’s another stab right into his… crotch. It’s the least he deserves after what he taught poor Olly.

“That I don’t believe. He seems like an absolute pleaser.” Aunt Monica winks in Harry’s way who just smiles at her shyly, but you can tell your comment is still bugging him.

“I think Y/N knows that too herself, am I right?” He tilts his head to the side and you stand your ground with holding his gaze and not looking away.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” you simply say, just when you hear your mom calling out for you. “Would you take her please?” you innocently ask walking up to Harry, holding Valerie out for him. You can tell he is looking for a witty comeback, but he has nothing just yet, so he is stuck with keeping his mouth shut as he takes baby Valerie from you. You gift him with a sweet, but definitely spikey smile before leaving him there with Aunt Monica.

***

Dinner is already almost ready, you’re helping your mom and Aunt Teresa in the kitchen with the finishing touches, Joe and Harry packing out the wine bottles from the rack Jeremy brought them in, the two of them examining the bottles with such professionalism you almost believe they have the slightest idea about what to look for in a good wine.

“Should we open some red or white ones for tonight’s dinner?” Joe asks your mom who is the master chef when it comes to the dinner.

“Red would suit better,” she answers. “Are they sweet?”

“Some, yeah,” Harry nods holding up a bottle and checking the label.

“Great. Monica loves that too,” Teresa chuckles as she adds some salt to the mashed potato.

“And Y/N too,” Harry adds, not even looking up, but he successfully attracts your mom’s attention with his comment.

“She does?” Harry looks up and sees your boiling anger plastered all over your face, so of course he chooses to take it further.

“Oh, yeah. She can drink like a gallon. Wine drunk Y/N is like a whole different person.”

“I told you so many times not to get drunk, Y/N. It’s not too ladylike. When was the last time you saw her drunk?”

“There were plenty of occasions,” Harry exaggerates and you could kill him right there. “Though last time it was the tequila that got her wildin’.”

That damned smirk of his is making your hands curl into fists and for a moment you tell yourself it’s okay to punch him in front of your mother even if she’ll probably disown you for such behavior.

“Y/N! I have told you a million times that you need to know where your limits lie!” she huffs shaking her head at you while you clench your jaw. Back at it with the lessons about getting drunk. She’ll never get over it, not even when you’ll be forty. Why does it matter to her so much? Sometimes she is the one to get you started, but then she gives you the dirtiest looks when you have one too many. She should just get used to it now.

“She surely likes to have fun when she has had a few drinks,” Harry continues smugly. “Remember how much fun you had at Rosa and Steven’s wedding?”

“Oh, God! I remember how drunk you were that evening, I could have killed you!” your mother growls and you roll your eyes at her.

“It wasn’t that bad. There were a lot more people who got way more wasted than me,” you try to defend yourself folding your arms on your chest.

“That doesn’t change that you were too,” she says with a hard look. Great, now she is mad at you for something that happened literally years ago. Kudos to Harry for ruining her mood.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Harry adds and you look in his way with suspicion. “She was a delight when it was time to get her to bed.”

Your mouth almost hangs open, but it seems like you’re the only one understanding what he really meant by that. Luckily, beside you and him, Rosa and Steven are the only people who knows what happened between you and Harry that night, so it’s no surprise no one else catches on the hint.

“You were the one who took her up to her room? Sorry if she was a burden,” your mother sighs and right at that moment you wish the floor would just open up and you could disappear forever. Harry’s satisfied grin is the evidence that he just won another round of this nasty war.

Just as you open your mouth to try and move the conversation to another field you see a pair of headlights pull up to the driveway. Everyone turns to the window as Marcus’ car parks down last in the line. As you step away from the counter you see the confusion in Harry’s eyes about the new guest.

“Oh, amazing! He is here!” your mom cheers, seemingly instantly forgetting about how she was dragging you just a minute ago.

“Who’s here?” you hear Harry ask, but you’re already out of there, heading to the front door to greet Marcus.

Just as you walk out into the cold evening air you see him get out with a warm smile on his lips. You wait for him at the door, arms wrapped around yourself and as he reaches you he places a soft kiss to your lips.

“Hey, how was the drive?” you ask him.

“It was fine. I didn’t arrive too late, right?”

“No, we were just about to set the table. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

He takes your hand in his as the two of you walk inside, all eyes immediately turning your way at the arrival of your boyfriend.

“Everyone, I want you all to meet my boyfriend, Marcus. He is staying for dinner.”

Your family members walk up to the two of you, shaking hands and introducing themselves to Marcus who smiles at everyone politely, trying his best to remember all the names and information that’s thrown at him all of a sudden. Everyone seems delighted to have him for dinner, the kids instantly make him promise he’ll play a card game with them after dinner and he happily says yes to the invitation.

You can tell your mom is proud that finally both of her daughters are spending Christmas with a man by their side and you’re almost certain your dad took a liking to Marcus the moment he mentioned he is into fishing.

Everyone seems excited and happy for Marcus, there’s just one face that doesn’t fit in the line of joyful smiles. Harry stands quite far from the two of you and only gets closer when he shakes hands with Marcus. His cocky grin is long gone from his face as he keeps his hard look on your boyfriend who is chatting with everyone. Standing next to Marcus, your hand still holding his, your eyes lock with Harry’s and there’s an unknown, burning feeling in your gut when his hard gaze holds yours. The sudden change and cold act gets you wondering what’s really going on in his mind. He is the first one to look away and you watch him walk into the kitchen and disappear from your sight before you force a smile on your lips and turn back to Marcus.

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myonechicagoworld · 3 years

Text

CHICAGO FIRE – RETALIATION HIT (S01E21)

Commander (Sgt. Halstead): How long was she in your apartment?

Kelly Severide: Half hour. Hour tops.

Commander (Sgt. Halstead): And how many beers did you have?

Kelly Severide: Two.

Commander (Sgt. Halstead): In 30 minutes?

Kelly Severide: First time in history anyone ever drank two beers in

half an hour?

Commander( Sgt. Halstead): Ms. Little stated that it was hard to

keep up with you. She felt buzzed.

Kelly Severide: That’s what happens when you drink beer. She’d

know since she brought the six pack over.

Commander (Sgt. Halstead): She said you tried to kiss her, but

she was uncomfortable and tried to

leave. You backed her against the

wall, leaned into her body and put

your hand on her buttock.

Kelly Severide: Unreal.

Commander (Sgt. Halstead): Care to respond?

Mouch: Lieutenant Severide is not obligated to respond to any of

these questions, Commander. He came in good faith to

hear the charges against him.

Kelly Severide: Actually, I faked a yawn and said I was tired and she

should probably get going. Because I started

thinking she was a little… desperate.

cutscene

[door buzzing]

[door opens]

Police Officer (Officer Blair): You’re up, Voight.

[handcuffs clicking]

cutscene

Hallie Thomas: How’s Dawson?

Matt Casey: Good. Great.

Why?

Hallie Thomas: Don’t even pretend.

Matt Casey: Um, she’s dating young Peter Mills.

Hallie Thomas: That sneaky little bastard. Good for him.

Matt Casey: How about yourself? Seeing anybody?

Hallie Thomas: Nah, no one serious.

Matt Casey: You heard about Curtis, right?

Hallie Thomas: Yeah. Um, is Voight behind it?

Matt Casey: I have no idea. I mean, the kid was in a gang, but

still…

Hallie Thomas: That doesn’t make any difference in terms of

Voight’s case, right?

Matt Casey: Apparently there’s a dismissal hearing today, and his

union is pushing hard for entrapment. All I know is I

can’t get sucked into it again.

cutscene

Hank Voight: [sighs]

I’m hungry. Let’s go.

cutscene

[coffee machine steaming]

Christopher Herrmann: Drink coupons?

Otis Zvonecek: It’s called a loss leader, okay? It gets people in the

door. Once they’re inside, they keep spending.

Christopher Herrmann: I’m already confused, all right? It’s a bar,

not the New York stock exchange.

Matt Casey: It’s actually not that complicated, Herrmann.

Christopher Herrmann: Well, we have a soft opening in a week,

andwe don’t even have our decorations

up yet.

Otis Zvonecek: Call it a drink special. I don’t care.

[kissing sound]

Leslie Shay: Oh, marry him.

Chief Boden: Okay, everybody listen up. In light of recent events…

recent allegations, rather… personnel division has

flagged this house for sexual harassment sensitivity

training.

Matt Casey: [silently groans]

Joe Cruz: Uh, Chief? I think actually it’s sexual harassment and

sensitivity training. ‘Cause the way that you just said it, it

makes it sound like we have to be, uh, sensitive toward

sexual har…

Christopher Herrmann: All right, what the hell? This house needs it.

All right, listen up everybody. CFD special,

okay? Happy hour prices all night long

when Molly’s opens.

[murmuring and applause]

Otis Zvonecek: [groans]

cutscene

Peter Mills: Lieutenant. What you’re going through ain’t right. So if

there’s anything I can do to help, name it. I mean if you

just want to grab a beer or put on some gloves…

Kelly Severide: Appreciate it.

[locker door shuts]

Kevin Hadley: Hey Mills.

[locker door closes]

Kevin Hadley: His shoes need shining.

[alarm buzzing and blaring]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Squad 3, Engine 51, Ambulance 61. Car

accident, 3464 Morgan Street.

Chief Boden: Casey, I just heard from the state’s attorney. Voight’s

out.

Matt Casey: All right.

Chief Boden: Yeah.

[sirens blaring]

Chief Boden: What’s the story here?

Police Officer (Officer Sobek): We got two people stuck.

Chief Boden: What happened?

Police Officer (Officer Sobek): Driver got shot and lost control.

Word is this is the guy that shot

Curtis. Retaliation hit.

[engine humming]

Kelly Severide: Looks unstable. Be careful.

Matt Casey: He’s pinned in. Foot’s stuck on the gas.

Victim 1: [screams] Oh God! Oh God! Help me, please!

- title screen -

[indistinct chatter]

Kelly Severide: Hey, stand clear of the car! Second victim’s

underneath.

Hang on, ma’am. We’re gonna get you out, okay?

Victim 1: Hurry, please.

Matt Casey: Driver’s got a head wound. We’ve got to get him out of

there.

Kelly Severide: Hey, we budge this car, it’s gonna take off.

Chief Boden: We lift the car. Kelly, you get the woman. We stabilise

this on the truck and get the driver at the same time.

Go.

Kelly Severide: Capp, Hadley, air bags and halligans!

Matt Casey: Cruz and Mills, we need bottle Jacks and cribbing as

much as we have. Mouch, take the center punch.

Herrmann, sawzall. Let’s move.

Christopher Herrmann: Got it.

Gabby Dawson: What do we got?

Matt Casey: Looks like a perforating head injury. The driver’s still

alive. You’re gonna have to move fast.

Gabby Dawson: We’re on it.

Victim 1: [whimpers]

Kelly Severide: Okay, help me out with this. We gotta lift it.

Don’t worry, ma’am. We’re right here with you.

Chief Boden: Don’t let it touch that wheel!

Victim 1: [whimpers]

Kelly Severide: Hang in there. Hang in there.

Watch your back.

All right, let’s get that board in!

Victim 1: [cries out]

Kelly Severide: Easy, easy.

Watch it.

Victim 1: [whimpers]

Kelly Severide: You got it?

Chief Boden: Keep her away from that wheel.

Victim 1: [whimpers]

Chief Boden: Good job, guys. Good job.

[glass shattering]

Matt Casey: [grunts]

[engine stops humming]

Chief Boden: Pop those hinges.

Firefighter: I got it.

[grinding]

Chief Boden: There you go! Get the board in now.

Leslie Shay: He’s got a pulse. Barely.

Kelly Severide: Watch his head.

Okay.

Watch it.

You got it?

Leslie Shay: Got it, yeah.

Gabby Dawson: Did I hear right? Voight’s out?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: Let’s go.

[siren blaring]

Mouch: You’re not doing what I think you’re doing, are you?

Kelly Severide: [sighs] What if I just meet her face-to-face and…

Mouch: Do not contact this woman, you hear me? We have a

follow-up interview tomorrow, and we have the upper hand

right now. Okay?

cutscene

Gabby Dawson: Single gunshot to the head through and through.

Entrance is at the cheek.

ER Doctor: Pressure?

Gabby Dawson: 50 over 30.

ER Doctor: Get him into six.

Leslie Shay: I told you that Tara chick was bad news. Now look.

Gabby Dawson: So there’s no way that Severide could have gotten

a little too frisky with her?

Leslie Shay: Against her will? No way.

Gabby Dawson: Well, what’s Severide saying?

Leslie Shay: Not much. Whenever he gets this look on his face, I

just steer clear and let him figure it out. ‘Cause me

trying to fix it never does any good. She’s not gonna

get away with this, is she?

Gabby Dawson: Well, that’s what they said about Voight.

Leslie Shay: Ugh, crazy town. I mean, how does that guy walk?

Gabby Dawson: I don’t know. It reminds me of this joke my dad

once told me. Why is Chicago style pizza so

thick?

Leslie Shay: Why?

Gabby Dawson: Don’t worry about it.

Leslie Shay: She’s not here.

Gabby Dawson: Who?

Leslie Shay: Hallie.

Gabby Dawson: I’m not looking for Hallie.

[cell phone vibrating]

Leslie Shay: Who is it?

Gabby Dawson: Blocked. Who blocks their phones anymore other

than drug dealers.

cutscene

[tapping on whiteboard]

Man 1 (Trainer): Nice slacks! Acceptable compliment? Yes, no or

depends?

Christopher Herrmann: I don’t think people call them slacks

anymore.

Man 1 (Trainer): Oh come on, come on. No, you know what I mean.

[laughter]

Man 1 (Trainer): Pants, dungarees, whatever.

Joe Cruz: Depends.

Man 1 (Trainer): On?

Joe Cruz: What part of the pants?

Man 1 (Trainer): Exactly. A female co-worker is standing in front of

you... ”Nice pants,” is acceptable. Walking away

from you, noway, Jose. And why not?

Christopher Herrmann: Isn’t it kind of obvious?

[laughter]

Man 1 (Trainer): Look, I know all this new political correctness-type

deal is a head spinner, ‘cause it was a little more

loosey-goosey back in the day. I mean, hell, when I

first started working for the city you’d-you’d walk

into some locker rooms, they’d have Hustler

centrefolds taped up. You do that nowadays, ninjas

drop from the ceiling and will airlift your ass right

out of there.

[laughter]

Christopher Herrmann: Tell me about it. When-when I started there

was this guy, Eric Weinburger…[chuckles]

and if it was somebody’s birthday, he

would walk around with his testicles

hanging out of his fly…

[laughter]

Man 1 (Trainer): Okay. Okay! Look, tap the brakes, pal. That’s what

I’m talking about.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey.

cutscene

Antonio Dawson: Voight’s got a condo in Myrtle Beach. And there’s

a good shot he threatens to sue the department

for wrongful prosecution, settles for a chunk of

change and then goes to play golf year round.

That’s according to my buddy who used to work

for Voight.

He’s dirty, but he ain’t stupid. He knows he

dodged a bullet on this one. And with his son

already doing a year, there’s no way he’s gonna

come after you again.

Matt Casey: That’s what they told me right before he tried to have

my skull cracked open.

Chief Boden: You’ll keep us apprised, won’t you, Antonio?

Antonio Dawson: Of course.

Chief Boden: Casey. Do not get drawn back into this.

cutscene

Man 2 (Paramedic): Leslie Shay!

Leslie Shay: Hey, Derek.

What’s wrong?

Gabby Dawson: That was Voight.

Leslie Shay: What’d he say?

Gabby Dawson: He’s calling in that favour I owe him.

[exhales]

cutscene

Matt Casey: You’re gonna call Voight back?

Gabby Dawson: [sighs] I mean I guess I have to.

Matt Casey: Want me to?

Gabby Dawson: No. No, no, no. But… that’s really nice of you to

offer.

Matt Casey: You let me know. And we’re cool. No matter what you

do. I don’t want us going down the same road we did

last time and not talking to each other for a month.

You’re too important to me for that.

Gabby Dawson: Thanks. I feel the same way. Which is why I wanted

to bring you in the loop. So that you didn’t think I

was scheming with Voight or anything behind your

back.

Matt Casey: Dawson, I’m serious though. You-you try to deal with

Voight on your own, you’ll end up in quicksand.

Gabby Dawson: Okay.

Man 1 (Trainer): Can I borrow you two for a second?

Matt Casey: [clears throat] “You look very nice today.”

Gabby Dawson: “Thank you.”

Matt Casey: “A bunch of us are gonna get some beers after work.

Care to join?”

Gabby Dawson: Sure, yeah. That sounds fun.”

Matt Casey: Keep going, or…

Man 1 (Trainer): Please.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Leslie Shay: Oh look, he just groped her. Did everybody see that?

Chief Boden: Shay.

Leslie Shay: I’m just saying. That’s all it takes, right?

Matt Casey: “Have you been going to the gym?”

Gabby Dawson: “Um, yeah, you know, here and there. Not as much

as I’d like.”

Matt Casey: “Because your physique looks really good.”

[laughter]

Gabby Dawson: “Well, thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

Man 1 (Trainer): Now freeze it. Freeze it. What did we talk about

behavioural modifiers?

Matt Casey: I think he means stop the role-play

Gabby Dawson: Oh.

Man 1 (Trainer): Matt should not be making comments about

Gabby’s body. We know that.

[cell phone vibrating]

Man 1 (Trainer): But Gabby should not be accepting compliments

about her body from Matt.

Chief Boden: Keep your radio on.

Man 1 (Trainer): Uh why don’t we break for lunch?

All: Yes.

Sure.

Matt Casey: Thank you.

Harold Capp: Hey, candidate?

Peter Mills: Yeah?

Harold Capp: You park across the street?

Peter Mills: Yeah, why?

Oh! Son of a bitch!

Kevin Hadley: Oh, man.

Peter Mills: Man, right in front of the house! God!

Harold Capp: Whoa, wait a second. Wait a second. Isn’t this an

’03?

Peter Mills: Yeah.

Harold Capp: I think this is the model they built with the spare

window.

Yeah.

Kevin Hadley: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Harold Capp: Hang on a second. Hold on, let me show you.

[engine starting]

Peter Mills: [sighs] Ooh… [chuckles]

Yeah funny. Give me my keys.

[Capp & Hadley chuckles]

Peter Mills: That was a good one.

[groans]

cutscene

Kelly Severide: [exhales] I just wanted to talk, you know. Human

being to human being.

Tara Little: I-I-I don’t want to talk about the other night. It’s still so

painful.

Kelly Severide: Tara, come on. We were both there. And if I said

something that offended you…

Tara Little: Look, IAD is pushing me to file a police report. And

despite what happened, I’m not interested in making

this a criminal case.

Kelly Severide: For what?

Look me in the eye. Tell me what I did.

Tara Little: But there is another option. If you apologise on record,

it’s called an Alford plea. You won’t be admitting guilt,

but we could both…avoid the embarrassment of

reliving this in public.

Kelly Severide: You’re crazy.

Tara Little: I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to meet you.

cutscene

Antonio Dawson: I’ll take care of it.

Gabby Dawson: Look, I don’t have a problem calling him to see

what he wants.

Antonio Dawson: No.

Gabby Dawson: Hey. Don’t do anything crazy.

[alarm buzzing and blaring]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3, Ambulance 61.

Overturned tanker, Eleanor and Fuller.

[sirens wailing]

Kelly Severide: Squad’s set to pull the driver out. We just need

engine to get some water on this fire so we

have some clearance.

Chief Boden: This first tank is leaking sodium hydroxide. We have

an active chemical spill. That is a negative on the

water. That’s going to spread the spill out even

further. We need to get foam on this fire… and

masks on!

Victim 2 (Truck Driver): Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey, get me out of here!

Get me out!

Chief Boden: (into radio) Squad three, suit up for rescue. Call in

Hazmat.

Hang on in there! We’re gonna come and get you!

(into radio) Battalion 25 to dispatch, we need the

closest available foam engine to Bridgeport right

now. We are on Eleanor and Fuller.

Dispatch: (over radio) Copy that, 25.

Chief Boden: Let’s dyke off this area right now. If it gets into the

river, it’ll spread into Chicago.

Matt Casey: Got it. Shovels and pick axes!

Right here. Start digging

[grunting]

Matt Casey: (over radio) Chief, where’s our foam?

Chief Boden: (into radio) We’re working on it, Casey.

Kelly Severide: Chief, if you need us to pull him out now, we’re

ready.

Chief Boden: (into radio)That diesel fire’s impinging on that tanker.

It’s getting ready to blow! You can’t go in yet.

Matt Casey: (into radio) Driver’s gonna get burned inside and out if

he stays in there much longer.

Chief Boden: (into radio) Where the hell is that engine?

[foam spraying]

Chief Boden: Severide.

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Chief Boden: That foam will cover up the vapors. You ready?

Kelly Severide: Yeah, let’s do it!

Hadley!

Kevin Hadley: Yeah!

Kelly Severide: Have the descender ready to send up the aerial.

Kevin Hadley: Uh, it-it’s new. I don’t know the set-up yet. I’ll just,

uh, I’ll rig up a rope and pulley.

Kelly Severide: Nah, that’s not enough. We’re gonna need the

descender. Ask Mills to do it.

Peter Mills: On it.

Let’s go.

Hadley, stand by.

Here. Take that, run it up

Chief Boden: (into radio) Mouch.

[motor humming]

Chief Boden: Capp, make sure you stay tight to Severide.

Victim 2 (Truck driver): [breathing heavily]

Kelly Severide: Chemicals flooding the cab. Driver’s losing

consciousness.

Victim 2 (Truck driver): [groans]

Kelly Severide: Hey buddy, hang in there. We’re gonna get you out!

Watch your eyes!

Victim 2 (Truck driver): Okay.

[glass shattering]

Peter Mills: Okay, throw me the rope bag.

Harold Capp: It’s coming down.

Kelly Severide: (over radio) Got the harness attached.

Victim 2 (Truck driver): [groans]

Kelly Severide: (over radio) Okay, pull him up!

Peter Mills: Haul!

Victim 2 (Truck driver): [groans]

Kelly Severide: Keep it going!

Okay, Mills, the driver’s clear.

Peter Mills: We’re good!

Kelly Severide: Let’s go, let’s go!

Chief Boden: All right. Bring him over, Mouch.

Joe Cruz: This way!

Peter Mills: Keep it going! Keep it going!

Firefighter: Keep coming!

Victim 2 (Truck driver): [groans]

Gabby Dawson: Let’s go!

Chief Boden: Good job.

Peter Mills: [chuckles]

cutscene

Joe Cruz: Hope we weren’t too much of a pain in the ass.

Man 1 (Trainer): Not at all. Fully aware that you work 24 hour shifts

together and you see the things that you see. And

there should be consideration for that. You just

have to be careful, or you can find yourself in a

real predicament.

Chief Boden: Did everybody hear that?

All: We got it.

Mm-hmm.

Man 1 (Trainer): Still using the Elkhart brass nozzles, I see. Is that a

75/100?

Joe Cruz: Yeah, how you know about nozzles?

Man 1 (Trainer): Ah I took the CFD exam. Back when dinosaurs

roamed the earth. Made it all the way through,

then got dinged on the last day.

Chief Boden: What happened?

Man 1 (Trainer): Colourblind.

What are you gonna do? It all worked out.

Christopher Herrmann: Eh, you know what’s gonna work out on

my end? Molly’s bar. This thing takes off

we’re gonna brand it, franchise it. We’re

gonna have Molly’s Kansas City, Molly’s

Des Moines…

Gabby Dawson: Easy, tiger. Let’s get this one off the ground first.

Peter Mills: Ugh…

Who put dog food in here?

Kevin Hadley: [chuckles]

Peter Mills: That’s funny to you?

Kevin Hadley: Relax, mutt.

Peter Mills: What did you say to me?

All: Hey! Hey! Hey!

Peter Mills: What did you say?

Chief Boden: Hey! Hey!

Kelly Severide: Take it easy!

Mutt? You out of your mind?

Kevin Hadley: When I was a candidate over at 38, they put menthol

in my underwear. What is the…

Chief Boden: No, no, no, no, what you did was so far beyond that,

that if you can’t tell the difference, you are dumber

than you look.

Kevin Hadley: [chuckles] What…

Chief Boden: I mean this house was already under a microscope.

You really couldn’t put that together? You are so lucky

Mills is not filing an incident report. Not to mention

knocking your teeth out.

Kevin Hadley: Did I not apologise?

Peter Mills: You don’t talk to me. I’m serious.

Matt Casey: Everybody shut up. He’s coming in.

Man 1 (Trainer): I told my boss that the course work was complete

here but that a follow-up might not hurt. I did not

mention the infraction, because it would turn into a

major, major deal. I’ve seen folks lose their jobs

over less. And in my sense, this was an isolated

incident involving otherwise good people.

Chief Boden: First of all, let me say thank you. And second of all, I

can assure you that I will deal with all of this in-house.

Man 1 (Trainer): How exactly?

Kevin Hadley: [scoffs]

Chief Boden: Look, anybody asks, I’ll tell them you wanted a

change of scenery. A lot of guys like to float from

house to house as it is.

Kevin Hadley: You know if I had known that kissing ass was the

way to move up in this house, I would have brought

some lip balm.

Chief Boden: Good luck, Hadley.

Kevin Hadley: [scoffs]

Chief Boden: Yeah, good luck.

cutscene

[train in the background]

Antonio Dawson: Come on.

[car door shuts]

Antonio Dawson: Why are you calling my sister?

Hank Voight: I got an ethics panel over at the IG’s here in a little bit.

I was looking for some character references.

Antonio Dawson: Not her. You helped me out of a jam, I don’t

dispute that. But if you got a favour you need

done, you come to me man-to-man and leave

her out of it.

Hank Voight: I hear you left Vice.

Antonio Dawson: What about it?

Hank Voight: Working in that Intelligence unit here in the district?

You got backbone, Antonio. You’ve always been an

aggressive cop. I respect that.

cutscene

Kelly Severide: And?

Mouch: You may be asked to go back in, so… sit tight.

I told you not to contact her.

Kelly Severide: Fine. I screwed up.

Mouch: Big time. Now they’re looking into your history.

Kelly Severide: Of?

Mouch: Other women you’ve... banged on the job.

Kelly Severide: What?

Mouch: Remember Nicki Rutkowski?

Kelly Severide: What about her?

Mouch: Her name came up. Did it end bad?

Kelly Severide: No!

We slept together a couple times, and she went on

her merry way. Ask her.

Mouch: Oh they’re going to.

Kelly Severide: Unreal.

cutscene

Matt Casey: The new place is very, uh… zen.

Hallie Thomas: I’m hardly here.

[liquid pouring]

Matt Casey: Thank you.

Hallie Thomas: Mm-hmm.

To new beginnings, I guess. Right?

Matt Casey: I like it.

[glass clinking]

Matt Casey: Well, uh, this is all your stuff. Just some pictures and

jewellery.

Hallie Thomas: And here’s yours. Pictures and Blackhawk

memorabilia.

Matt Casey: I was wondering where all that went.

Yes!

[kissing sound]

Hallie Thomas: [chuckles] You know, I found this contract that we

both signed after we had that argument about

where to spend Christmas. Do you remember it?

Matt Casey: I do. Yeah.

Hallie Thomas: [giggles]

Matt Casey: Let’s always keep the fighting clean and the sex dirty.

[laughter]

[kissing sounds]

cutscene

[coins clinking]

Hank Voight: IG office on a Tuesday afternoon, that can’t be good.

Just remember, squeakiest wheel always wins around

here.

Kelly Severide: Looks like it.

Hank Voight: You’re Benny Severide’s kid, huh?

Kelly Severide: That’s right.

Hank Voight: Ol’ Benny…

[chuckles] I’ll be seeing you around.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, I don’t plan on making it out to Myrtle Beach

anytime soon.

Hank Voight: Well, neither do I. I just got reinstated.

[door closes]

cutscene

Matt Casey: Where on the job?

Kelly Severide: No, he didn’t say.

Peter Mills: God, has the world gone crazy? What the heck is going

on?

Kelly Severide: I know. Tell me about it.

Gabby Dawson: Well, they’ll just park him somewhere behind a

desk, right? Let him collect a paycheck for

nothing. I mean if I’m CPD, that’s what I would

want.

Matt Casey: That’s got nothing to do with it. It’s what Voight wants.

Gabby Dawson: [whispers] Damn it. Maybe I should have just

played ball with him.

Peter Mills: No, absolutely not.

Gabby Dawson: But now I’m on his enemy list?

[door opens]

Peter Mills: Who’s that?

Kelly Severide: Nicki’s dad.

[knocks on door]

Chief Boden: Hey! Big Al!

Al Rutkowski: Hey, Wallace.

Chief Boden: [chuckles] What brings you out?

Al Rutkowski: I guess that Severide character’s got himself in a bit

of a pickle, huh?

Chief Boden: How’d that get on your radar?

Al Rutkowski: Well, the girl he attacked, her lawyer contacted me.

Chief Boden: Attacked? Since when do you believe everything the

lawyers tell you?

Al Rutkowski: [scoffs] Yeah, well, regardless, I guess they want my

account of events. They’re looking to establish a

pattern of behaviour. And I wanted you to hear it

from me first out of respect for our friendship.

Chief Boden: Hear what?

[door closes]

Al Rutkowski: How I came here to pick Nicki up, and I saw him

guiding her out of that change out room after doing

God knows what. How she came home in tears

after being over at his apartment. How she broke

off her engagement with a guy I happened to like.

And how Nicki came in and quit her job and ran off

to Europe and she hasn’t been able to get her life

back on track since.

Chief Boden: Al, I spoke to him. Nothing happened.

Al Rutkowski: No, he was screwing around with a subordinate on

the job. My daughter. And shame on me for not

having made a bigger stink of it back then,

because now it looks like a girl got hurt.

Chief Boden: Al, I know you’re pissed at him, but if you, as a Chief

in the department, if you go forward with your beef,

you will sink him.

Al Rutkowski: Do you really believe that he didn’t push that girl up

against the wall because she didn’t want to be

another notch on his belt?

Chief Boden: We go way back. I’m going to vouch for Kelly

Severide.

Al Rutkowski: Yeah, well, like I said, I want you to hear it from me.

Chief Boden: Please don’t do this.

Al Rutkowski: I already did. They have my statement.

Chief Boden: Yeah. Nice knowing you, Al.

[alarm buzzing and blaring]

(Over PA): Ambulance 61, fallen person. 1610 Kedzie Street.

[siren blaring]

Child 1: Hurry, I think my dad’s sick.

Gabby Dawson: What’s your dad’s name?

Child 1: Terrence. I’m Patrick.

And that’s Buddy.

Leslie Shay: Oh.

Gabby Dawson: Okay.

[snake hissing]

Victim 3 (Terrence): [groans]

Gabby Dawson: Okay, see ya.

Leslie Shay: Okay, here we go.

Gabby Dawson: What was that, a pet?

Child 1 (Patrick): What about my dad? Something’s wrong with

him.

Gabby Dawson: [groans] I don’t believe this!

Patrick, how long since that snake bit your dad?

Patrick?

Child 1 (Patrick): My dad says not to tell anyone about Buddy.

We’re not supposed to have him.

Gabby Dawson: How long, sweetie?

Child 1 (Patrick): Ten minutes?

Gabby Dawson: Okay, I’m gonna call animal control.

Leslie Shay: What kind of snake is it?

Child 1 (Patrick): Rhino Viper. He got out of his cage.

Leslie Shay: We gotta go back in there.

Gabby Dawson: Bitch, are you out of your f… Dear valued

colleague, I strongly disagree with your

suggested course…

Leslie Shay: Okay, God only knows what Rhino Viper venom does

to a person, okay? We can’t wait on animal control.

He might not even have 30 minutes.

Gabby Dawson: [groans]

Leslie Shay: Patrick, hi, um, what does your dad use to handle

Buddy?

Child 1 (Patrick): The hook.

Leslie Shay: The hook. Come on.

Victim 3 (Terrence): [groans]

Child 1 (Patrick): Here it is.

[snake hissing]

Leslie Shay: That is a longass snake.

[heavy breathing]

Here.

Gabby Dawson: Whoa! What?

Leslie Shay: You do it. I can’t. I can’t.

Gabby Dawson: [exhales] Okay, Patrick. What do I do?

Child 1 (Patrick): Dad puts the hook under him and grabs his tail.

Gabby Dawson: Mm-hmm. Grabs his tail. Right, of course

[exhales]

Hey, Buddy.

[groans]

[snake hisses]

Gabby Dawson: Oh God! Okay.

[metal rod clanging]

Gabby Dawson: [heavy breathing]

Leslie Shay: We’ve got to try again.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Victim 3 (Terrence): [groans & whimpers]

Leslie Shay: Just… try again.

Gabby Dawson: [frustrated groan]

[snake hissing]

Gabby Dawson: [whimpering]

Come on. Come on.

Leslie Shay: Yes. Yes. Yes.

[thud]

Gabby Dawson: [panting] Nightmares. I will have nightmares.

Victim 3 (Terrence): [gasping]

Gabby Dawson: Okay, let’s put him in the chair and get him out of

here.

Victim 3 (Terrence): [struggling to breathe]

Leslie Shay: Watch the cabinet.

Gabby Dawson: Let’s go.

Child 1 (Patrick): Is he gonna be okay?

Gabby Dawson: He’ll be okay. Hop in.

[ambo door shuts]

cutscene

[door closes]

Kelly Severide: What’s up?

Mouch: Uh, a couple things. Internally, Tara’s not gonna be acting

on the charges.

Kelly Severide: What do you mean internally? Are the charges

dropped or not?

Mouch: Well, there’s where it gets complicated.

Chief Boden: She’s been reinstated as commander of operations at

field division headquarters.

Kelly Severide: Promoted?

Chief Boden: IAD felt an administrative post might be a better fit for

her.

Kelly Severide: For a liar?

Mouch: IAD lacked the sufficient amount of confidence needed to

disprove her claim, so they wanted to move quickly to have

this go away.

Kelly Severide: Great! Y-You know what? Make her the… Queen of

England, I don’t care.

Are-are we done?

Mouch: No. Because of Chief Rutkowski’s rather incendiary

statement, the IG has sustained Tara’s allegations. They’re

kicking the case up to the State Attorney’s office.

Kelly Severide: Meaning what?

Mouch: Meaning they will review it. And if they feel there’s a case,

they’ll file charges. Criminal charges.

Kelly Severide: [sighs]

Chief Boden: You need to get an attorney, Kelly. You need to be

ready.

Mouch: Listen… this is not coming from me. But it was put out

there that if you did apologise for what she’s claiming, it

might go a long way towards…

[sighs]

cutscene

[water running]

Kelly Severide: I walked her to the door.

Leslie Shay: We’re gonna fight this. We’re gonna be all right.

Kelly Severide: I don’t trust anyone in this world other than you.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey buddy. We heard. No one can believe

it. Look, we’re doing our soft opening

tonight. Maybe you want to come down,

tie one on, be around your friends.

Kelly Severide: I’m not up for it.

Christopher Herrmann: No. Of course. All right.

Joe Cruz: Hang in there, man.

cutscene

Gabby Dawson: This is it, you guys.

Otis Zvonecek: Ready or not.

Christopher Herrmann: I got jitters, I ain’t gonna lie.

Gabby Dawson: This is probably like, the craziest, riskiest, insanest

thing any of us has ever done.

Otis Zvonecek: And for Herrmann, that’s saying something.

Christopher Herrmann: [chuckles]

Gabby Dawson: But if nothing else, I have had so much fun

spending all those days off and all the wee hours

building Molly’s with you guys. And I know that

you guys have heart because I saw it when you

put it in the business, and I just want you to

know that I consider you guys family. You’re my

brothers.

Christopher Herrmann: Wow. You’re beautiful. I know it’s been a

tough couple of shifts for everybody. But

that is why this place is gonna rock

tonight. Because we’re gonna put aside

our worries, and we’re just gonna have a

good time.

Otis Zvonecek: Amen.

Gabby Dawson: Amen.

Christopher Herrmann: Amen.

Gabby Dawson: To Molly’s.

Christopher Herrmann: To Molly’s.

Otis Zvonecek: Does it sound like we’re saying “tamales”?

Christopher Herrmann: What? Who cares? This place is gonna

rock!

Otis Zvonecek: I hope so, ‘cause I’m a little concerned about the

number of hits we’re getting on Facebook.

Gabby Dawson: Oh my gosh.

Otis Zvonecek: Not as much traffic as I want. Not to mention…

Christopher Herrmann: Will you please celebrate the moment, for

God’s sake.

Otis Zvonecek: To Molly’s.

[glass clinking]

cutscene

Peter Mills: [grunts]

Come on, another one.

All right, another one.

Kelly Severide: [grunts]

Peter Mills: Throw it out!

Kelly Severide: Unh! Unh!

Peter Mills: Come on! Come on. Come on man.

Kelly Severide: [grunts]

[laboured breathing]

[spits]

cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: Are you guys good?

Crowd/Customers: We’re great!

All right.

[chatter & laughter]

Christopher Herrmann: Who is this guy?

Joe Cruz: That’s my Uncle Zoozie!

Leslie Shay: Hey, so I cannot stop thinking about Tara being

promoted?

Gabby Dawson: Oh, she is a bureau bitch now. We’re never gonna

see her.

Leslie Shay: Oh, if I do, I’m gonna drop her. Not joking.

Joe Cruz: Good to see ya.

Hallie Thomas: Thanks.

Matt Casey: Hey.

Gabby Dawson: [clears throat]

Leslie Shay: When did that happen?

Gabby Dawson: Good for them.

Leslie Shay: [sighs] Oh, yeah…

[door closes]

Christopher Herrmann: [laughs]

Cop walks into a bar…

[chatter dies]

Hank Voight: Wow. It’s a nice place. Congratulations.

[chuckles] Chief.

[exhales] Listen, there’s…there’s been a lot of bad

blood between cops and firemen in this district.

Since we’re all gonna be working together, I want

to be the first to put it all behind us.

This round’s on me.

Gabby Dawson: So what was that about?

Antonio Dawson: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

Gabby Dawson: What?

Antonio Dawson: He was promoted to Sergeant, and he’s running

the Intelligence Unit.

Gabby Dawson: You’re in the Intelligence Unit.

Antonio Dawson: Don’t I know it.

Hank Voight: I want to apologise. To you both. It got way out of

hand. You know, as it turns out my son needed to

hit rock bottom. Prison has certainly provided that.

I just want to say I’m sorry. And I am looking forward

to working with you, Lieutenant.

[sighs]

- end -

Definitions:

Bottle Jacks – Have a capacity of up to 50 tons and may be used to lift a variety of objects

Hustler – Prostitute

IAD – Internal Affairs department

Alford plea – Guilty plea in criminal court, whereby a defendant in a criminal case does not admit to the criminal act and asserts innocence. Defendants usually enter an Alford guilty plea if they want to avoid a possible worse sentence were they to lose the case against them at trial. It affords defendants the ability to accept a plea bargain while maintaining innocence

Dyke – a ditch

Descender – The descender or “descent control device” is another important element of a bailout kit selection. They are used as friction brakes when descending a rope in a rescue situation

IG’s – Office of Inspector General (I believe)

Rhino Viper – Small doses of the snake’s primarily hemotoxic venom can be deadly. This venom attacks the circulatory system of the snake’s victim, destroying tissue and blood vessels. Internal bleeding also occurs. In only a few detailed reports of human envenomation, massive swelling, which may lead to necrosis, had been described.

18 notes · View notes

elianamarie-blog · 3 years

Text

The Things You Give Pt 13

AN: Another part is up! Let me know what you’re thinking of the series so far because I’m thinking of ending it soon because I’d hate for it to go on longer than needed. But I am having a lot of fun writing it and love hearing back from you guys! Thank you all for those that have been reading since the beginning and if you’re just finding the series, welcome! Enjoy!

Steven Hyde x Reader

October 15, 1978

The Forman Kitchen

Point Place, Wisconsin

The morning at the breakfast table, things still hadn’t changed between the three teenagers, but they were at least able to be around each other without fists flying, so y/n took that as a plus. Y/n could barley eat though. She had woken up feeling sick to her stomach; the thought of food repulsing her. She nibbled on her toast and couldn’t even sip on her orange juice without wanting to vomit.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Kitty asked concerned. “You’ve barley touched your breakfast.”

Y/n groaned. “Just feeling a little sick is all.”

Kitty hummed and pressed the back of her hand to y/n’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm. Maybe it was something you ate.”

Y/n groaned again and put her head down. “Maybe.”

“Hey Dad, can you pass the bacon?” Eric asked, stretching arm out.

Y/n gagged and groaned. “Please don’t say bacon.”

Eric smirked and grabbed a piece, biting into it. “Mhmmmm…bacόn.”

“Please stop,” she grumbled, her stomach churning.

“It’s so juicy and chewy and the fat at the end is the best part,” Eric continued, laughing.

“Oh, God! Did you have to say that?!” she screeched as she made haste to the nearest bathroom. She could feel the contents of her stomach rising before she made it to the bathroom.

“Did you really have to do that?” Kitty asked, disappointed.

“Yes,” Eric responded. “Yes, I did.”

Kitty shook her head in disapproval and brought her fork of food to her mouth.

Red glared at his son before returning his attention to the newspaper.

“What?!” Eric asked. “She started it!”

“Oh, boo hoo, she broke your dolls,” Red mocked.

“G.I Joes,” Eric corrected.

“Whatever,” his father answered. “Whatever she did isn’t worth making her throw up over.”

Yes, it is, Eric thought.

Y/n returned to the kitchen, her skin ashen and her eyes sunken. “I think I’m going to go back to bed so I don’t barf all over the table.”

“Well, okay honey,” Kitty said getting up and taking her plate to the sink. “I’ll bring you some soup later, okay?”

Y/n shook her head, making a face of disgust. “Please, Mom. I can’t even think about food right now.”

“Well, you have to get some food in you,” Kitty responded. “Otherwise you’ll get even more sick.”

Y/n nodded. “Okay. I just really want to go back to bed.”

“Okay sweetie,” Kitty responded, rubbing her daughter’s shoulder. “We’ll see you later.”

Y/n nodded and stole a glance at Hyde before she made her way upstairs.

“Eric, I need you to mow the lawn later,” Red demanded as he finished his breakfast.

“What? Why can’t Hyde do it?”

“Because unlike your sorry ass, I actually have work,” Hyde replied.

Eric glared at him before turning back to Red. “Why do I always have to do it?”

“Because I said so!” Red barked.

--Time Skip—

“So, you think you got food poisoning, huh?” Donna asked that night over the phone.

Y/n nodded before she realized she was talking over the phone. “Yeah, I do. Every time I move, my body screams at me. My back is hurting so much. And my stupid cramps aren’t helping any either.”

“Have you been throwing up that much?”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, wiping her sweaty and oily hair out of her face. “I think I pulled a muscle in my back or something because of it. Even my boobs hurt.”

“Nausea, back aches, and tender breasts,” Donna counted off. “Hey, you may be pregnant.” Donna chuckled at her own joke.

“Ha ha,” Y/n chortled. “You’re funny. Definitely not pregnant.”

“Yeah? And how do you know?”

“Because I’m supposed to be getting my period in a few days. These could be symptoms of PMS. Or maybe both.”

“Supposed to,” Donna pushed, putting emphasis on her words.

“Shut up,” Elena laughed. “Stop saying that. I’m not pregnant. Eric would throw himself off a cliff if that happened. Or Hyde. Or Eric would push Hyde off a cliff. One of the three.”

Donna chuckled. “But seriously, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just can’t do much for a couple of days.”

“Okay, well if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks Donna,” Y/n said. “I’m going to go to sleep. I’ll talk to you later.” “Alright, rest easy. Talk to you later.”

Y/n hung up the phone before turning back around and falling back asleep, feeling her stomach churning. Pregnant.

The word echoed in her head as sleep quickly enveloped her. --Time Skip—

“Guys!” Kelso called as he barged through the door in the basement. “The Omen is on TV right now!” He hurriedly made his way over to the television set, switching on the movie.

“Kelso, what the hell, man? We were watching that!” Hyde piped up. “C’mon, it’s Halloween season!” Kelso argued. “Tis the season to be jolly!”

“That’s Christmas, moron,” Jackie said from behind him.

“Well, whatever! I think we should get in the spirit.”

The gang groaned as they leaned back into their seats.

“Hey, where’s y/n?” Hyde asked.

“Oh, she’s upstairs sleeping,” Donna answered nonchalantly.

“Still? It’s six o’ clock,” he responded. “She’s been upstairs since this morning.”

“Well, food poisoning is a real bitch,” she replied. “And so is PMS.”

“Alright, TMI,” Eric said and got up to turn up the volume on the TV.

“Oh, Eric, don’t be such a prude,” Fez said. “It’s completely natural. In my culture, we honor women whenever they go through their monthly ordeal. It’s kind of a big deal. We thank the gods and celebrate their womanhood. Then, we bring them flowers and chocolates and some candy too. Or whatever else they’re craving. They get a week off and can stay at home in bed while their husbands, brothers, fathers, or sons take care of everything.”

“Wow…can I join your culture?” Donna asked.

Fez chuckled. “Sure, if you feel like eating bugs for breakfast.”

Donna grimaced. “Never mind.” She turned to Eric. “Why don’t you do that for me?”

“Because a woman shouldn’t bleed for seven days straight and still live,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, I don’t trust anything that can bleed for that long and not die,” Kelso said.

Hyde looked at him amused. “You can’t even be with a woman for seven days straight, let alone be there for her during her monthly problem.”

“Not true! I was with Jackie for three years!”

“And you cheated on me at least once a month!” Jackie responded. “Hey…wait a minute!”

“You guys, women are sacred. They need to be honored and cherished during this time because the pain they go through, we will never understand,” Fez said gently.

“We don’t understand?” Hyde said. “Have you ever been kicked in the nads?”

“Okay, sure, but imagine getting kicked in the nads for at least 3 days straight,” Donna responded.

“Oh, God!” Eric said, squirming in his seat. “I can’t even imagine that!”

“Well, sometimes, it’s even more painful,” Jackie added.

“What does it feel like?” Kelso asked, staring at her.

“Well, it can feel like someone is taking a knife to your pelvis and slowly twisting it,” Jackie responded causing all the men in the room to squirm, except for Fez.

“Fez, man, how are you not effected by this?” Kelso asked.

“I grew up with five sisters,” he responded, shrugging. “Nothing I’m not used to.”

“Are you guys seriously talking about periods?” Y/n asked as she slowly made her way down the stairs.

“Hey, you’re up,” Donna stated. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty lousy,” Y/n said. “But I’d rather be miserable with company than go through it alone.” She plopped down on the couch next to where Hyde was sitting.

“Are you going through your…girl problem?” Kelso asked nervously.

“What? No,” Y/n replied. “I mean, I could be, but it could also be food poisoning.”

“Well, what did you eat?” Hyde asked.

“Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing that you guys didn’t eat,” she replied.

“Must be the PMS thing then,” Donna said, laughing when Eric shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Can we please stop talking about my sister’s cycle? It’s giving me a very vivid image that I’d rather not have.”

“Y/n, do you need anything?” Fez asked sweetly. “Chocolate? Water? A hot water bottle?”

Y/n smiled at him. “Why, yes, Fez. That would be lovely.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back!” Fez beamed and hopped out the chair to run out the door.

“Hey, man, why are you taking care of my chick?” Hyde asked, stopping Fez at the door. “That’s my job.”

“Then why aren’t you doing it?” Fez shot back.

Y/n’s mouth fell open in a laugh as she covered it with her hand. Donna and Jackie tightened their lips to keep themselves for laughing.

“’Cause she didn’t ask,” he responded.

“She shouldn’t have to,” Fez said calmly. “You should just do it for her. That’s how you keep your woman happy.”

“Then why couldn’t you keep Jackie happy?” Hyde quipped.

Y/n gasped. “Steven!”

“No, no it’s okay,” Fez said, oddly calm. “You know, Hyde, normally that would bother me, but not today because I’m not the one having another man making my woman happy.”

Hyde grabbed the nearest object—a magazine—and threw it at Fez, but before it could hit him, he slammed the door shut; the magazine hitting the door with a thud.

“He’s right, you know,” Y/n responded with a smile.

“Do you really feel that way?” Hyde asked her.

Y/n shrugged. “Not really. It would be nice though.”

“I see,” Hyde said and stood from his chair, stalking his way to his room.

“Steven, wait!” she called after him. “I wasn’t being serious!”

He flapped a hand at her without turning to look at her and slammed his door.

“Wow,” Jackie said, puffing out her cheeks. “That escaladed quickly.”

Y/n shrunk down in her seat, feeling guilty. “What else is new with this group?”

“This is great!” Eric beamed, causing everyone to stare at him in confusion. “Now Hyde is mad at you too! Not just me.”

Y/n groaned and stood up slowly. “You’re an immature dillhole. I’m going back to bed.”

“What should I tell Fez when he gets back?” Donna asked.

“That I’m upstairs and he can come up.”

“I don’t think Hyde will like that very much,” Kelso mentioned.

“Who cares?” Eric griped.

“Look, I’ll deal with Hyde later,” Y/n responded, ignoring her twin. “Right now, I just want to feel better.” She trudged up the stairs, leaving the group alone.

“What a mess,” Donna said.

“Tell me about it,” Jackie responded. “Eric, are you still mad at them?”

“Of course, I am!” he responded, surprised that Jackie would ask him such a question. “How can I not be?”

“Well, you can try not being mad,” Jackie suggested sarcastically.

“Eric, give it a rest, yeah?” Donna said. “It’s been over a week.”

Eric growled and leaned back in his seat.

“He was supposed to be moved out by now,” he mumbled.

“Shut. Up. Please,” Donna snapped. “He literally has nowhere to go. You have to be a real prick to throw him out on the streets. It’s not like he murdered your sister.”

“You just don’t get it, Donna!” he whined. The whole group groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah we don’t get it because it’s not our sister and we would be pissed too if Hyde was nailing her, blah blah blah. Seriously, Eric, I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say we’re sick of hearing about it,” Kelso said, irritated. He just wanted to watch the movie. Why wasn’t anybody respecting that?

Eric furrowed his brows at his friends. “You guys really feel this way?”

“YES!” Jackie, Donna, and Kelso said in unison.

“Oh. Well, then, fine,” Eric grumbled and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Donna asked.

“Since you guys are tired of hearing about it, I’m going to go somewhere else.”

“Oh my God, you are such a drama queen,” Donna groaned. “Just sit back down and watch the movie with us.”

“Nah, I’m good. See you guys later.” With that, he grabbed his coat and shut the door, leaving the three teenagers left to watch the movie.

“He’s gotten more annoying than usual,” Jackie commented.

“You know, Jackie, normally I would be offended by that, but this time I have to agree with you,” Donna responded.

“Well, now we can watch the movie,” Kelso said.

The three sat in silence on the couch until Kelso tried to sneak his hand up Donna’s leg.

“Kelso!” Donna screeched as she slapped his hand away.

“Damn, Donna! I was just looking for the remote!”

“The remote is on the table, you idiot,” Jackie pointed out.

Kelso looked between the two girls with a hurt look. “Women are mean!” He stomped out the basement, forgetting the movie.

The girls looked at each other and shrugged, returning their attention to the TV before Donna got up to change it back to the channel they were watching.

--Time Skip—

Y/n stared down at the home pregnancy test, shock filling her. Positive. The test was freaking positive. She was going to be a mother. Oh God, how would everyone else react? What kind of mother was she going to be?

“Oh, Y/n, how could you?” Kitty asked from behind her, hurt playing on her face.

“Wait, Mom--!” Y/n tried to call after her mother before Red showed up at her side.

“How could you be such a disgrace to the family?!” Red shouted, his face turning pink. Kitty turned to her husband’s side and started sobbing. “Look what you’re doing to your mother!”

“No, but Daddy—” Y/n said, tears welling in her eyes.

“Wow, you’re such a whore!” Eric laughed as he suddenly appeared by their parents’ side. “And here I thought Laurie would be the one to get knocked up from some rando.”

“What?” she asked her twin, tears cascading down her pale cheeks.

“Wow, little sister, you certainly top me,” Laurie said, smirking.

“Laurie?” Y/n questioned.

“I’m leaving you,” Steven said coldly, appearing in front of her. “You were just a fling. You knew this from the start. I can’t have a baby with a loser.”

“You said you loved me!” Y/n screamed.

“I lied,” Steven said and smirked. “I only strung you along so that I could nail you. Now, look at you. You’re fat and alone.”

Y/n looked down and saw that her stomach had enlarged. “What?” she whispered.

“We can’t have you in the family,” Kitty suddenly said. “We can’t have a whore in the family.”

“You have Laurie!”

“At least she didn’t get pregnant!” her mother shot back. “You and your mistake can get out of our house, out of our lives. You’re no longer welcome!”

“No, Mom! Please, I need you. I need Daddy and Steven, please. I can’t do this alone. I need you more than ever.”

She went to grab his hands, but he jerked away from her. “Well, you’re gonna have to do it alone.”

Tears cascaded down her face as she tried to blink them away, but as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared. Suddenly, Y/n found herself sitting alone in a total darkness, a single light shining above her.

“No,” she whimpered, looking around. “No. No. NO!”

Y/n jerked awake, sweat coating her forehead. Her breathing was slightly heavy as she glanced at the clock. 2:08AM. She sighed and fell back onto her pillow, fingers threading through her sweaty and knotted hair. She couldn’t believe she’d been asleep for eight hours.

Her room suddenly flooded with light as Kitty, dressed in her pink robe, hair a rat’s nest, stood in her cracked door. “Y/n, honey, are you alright? I heard you yelling.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Y/n replied. “Just had a nightmare.”

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Kitty replied and moved closer to adjust herself on the bed. “You know, when you were little, you would get nightmares all the time. And the only thing that would soothe you and get you to go back to sleep is when I would gently caress your hair until you fell back asleep.”

Y/n smiled softly. “Too bad I’m older now, huh?”

“Oh, nonsense,” Kitty said and leaned over, caressing her hair back. “You’re never too old for your mother’s love.”

Y/n smiled and turned on her side, facing Kitty.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked her daughter after a moment of silence.

Y/n thought about it for a minute. She actually wanted to talk to her about it, but she knew if she did, she could open up something that she really didn’t want to. Even if it were just a dream, Kitty would know that it was something much deeper than that.

“No,” she responded after a beat. “I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Of course sweetheart,” Kitty cooed. She continued to smooth Y/n’s hair, effectively calming her down. Fifteen years later and it still works.

Y/n could already feel sleep overcoming her again. “Thank you, Mommy,” she mumbled as her eyelids grew heavier.

“You’re absolutely welcome,” Kitty responded and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/n whispered before falling asleep once more.

⧝⧝⧝

Y/n woke up the next day, just as horrible as the day before. She dragged herself out of bed and trudged downstairs to see her family eating lunch.

“Morning Sunshine,” Kitty cheerfully greeted her. “You must be really sick to sleep in till noon.”

Y/n grunted back and grabbed some orange juice and sat down. The smell of their lunch making her nose curl, repulsing her.

“How’re you feeling, kitten?” Red asked.

“I’m okay,” Y/n responded. “Could be better. Still feel kinda nauseas and tired.”

“You want some dry toast?” Kitty asked. “You haven’t eaten much.”

Y/n nodded tiredly and put her head on the table. “I’d love some actually.”

Kitty smiled and got up, popping bread in the toaster. “Oh, your foreign friend dropped off some stuff for you. I left it here on the counter.”

“Hm?” Y/n hummed, looking at Kitty.

“He said something to do with your menstrual cycle, so he dropped off a hot water bottle, some midol, and a box of chocolate.”

“Oh, come on, Kitty, not while we’re eating!” Red exclaimed, disgusted.

The whole time, Eric and Steven had been quiet. Steven glared at the gifts through his aviators. Eric rolled his eyes and continued to eat his lunch.

“What a sweet boy!” Kitty laughed. “You know, I don’t think I’d mind if you ended up with him.”

Y/n smiled as Kitty set a plate of two slices of dry toast in front of her.

“I’m going to make you some tea as well. You gotta get some liquids in you,” Kitty stated.

“Kitty, don’t put ideas in her head!” Red said, throwing down the paper he was reading.

“What do you mean by that?” Y/n asked, offended. “Is it because of his skin color?”

“What?” Red asked, scrunching up his face. “God, no! I don’t want you dating anybody. You’re too young.”

“Dad, I’m eighteen,” Y/n deadpanned as she nibbled at her toast. “Eric and Donna have been dating since they were, like, eight.”

“No, we haven’t,” Eric argued.

“Shut up, yes you have,” Y/n said.

“Eric’s different,” Red continued. “Eric is a man, or as close of a man as he can get. Besides, Donna is the best he’s ever going to do.” He started laughing, but he was the only one who found that funny.

“Thanks Dad,” Eric deadpanned.

“Red Forman!” Kitty exclaimed.

“What? It’s funny!” Kitty gave him a hard look making him shut up. “Fine, it’s not.”

Y/n managed a small smile before bringing a piece of toast to her lips. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m not even seeing anyone.”

Eric stopped mid-bite to give side eye to his twin sister. Y/n returned a hard, cold stare to her brother as if to say don’t you freaking dare.

“So, Fez gave you those huh?” Steven asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” Y/n replied. “That was really nice of him.”

“Yeah, real nice,” he responded slowly.

“It was,” Y/n replied, staring at her boyfriend in suspicion. “You got something to say?”

“No, why would I?” he responded. “Why would I have anything to say that my best friend is flirting with my…other best friend?”

Kitty stood at the stove as she waited for the tea to heat up and squinted her eyes at Steven before looking to her husband who was giving him the same look.

“What’s your deal, Hyde?” Y/n asked him, growing annoyed with him.

“Oh, nothing,” he responded. “I’m just saying that he’s never done this for another girl before unless it was Jackie.”

“Steven, what’re you getting at?” Red asked him.

“Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, Y/n?” Hyde said, staring coldly at her.

Y/n returned the glare. “If you’re insinuating that Fez likes me, you are terribly, terribly wrong.”

“Then why would he do it for you?” he asked impatiently.

“I don’t know!” Y/n responded, flabbergasted. “Because he wants to be nice?”

“Nice, ha!” Steven hollered, causing everyone to look at him in surprise. “Guys don’t do things just to be nice.”

Y/n gave him a look. “Why do you care so much what he does?”

“Yeah, Hyde. Why do you care?” Eric asked with a smirk.

Steven realized what he was doing and looked at everyone who was looking at him with furrowed brows. He straightened his posture and looked down at his lunch, clearing his throat. “I don’t. I just find it rather odd.”

“And if Fez does like me, what’s it to ya?” Y/n asked, cocking her head to the side.

“It doesn’t,” Hyde replied coldly, taking a sip from his iced tea.

Y/n lifted an eyebrow at him before finishing off her toast.

“Is there something going on between you two?” Red asked.

The couple stole a glance at each other before looking to Red.

“No, not at all,” Y/n replied casually.

“Why would there be?” Steven asked.

“I don’t know. You’re acting weird,” Red commented. “Stop it.”

Steven grinned at him. “Yes, sir.”

“Here’s your tea, sweetheart,” Kitty said, bringing over a mug of tea. “And I put in some honey, Honey.” She laughed at her own joke.

Y/n chuckled softly. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Oh, by the way, Sasha called for you yesterday,” Kitty said, sitting back down.

Y/n perked up. “She did? Why?”

“I’m not too sure. She wanted to talk to you about something, but I told her you weren’t feeling well. So, I took down her number and told her you’d give her a call back when you feel better.”

“Yeah, I’ll call her back once I can stop vomiting.”

“And yet, you’ve been able to achieve that this whole time,” Eric said sarcastically. “Must feel nice to finally be able to achieve something for once. Congrats, sis.”

Y/n glared at him. “If I could control it, I’d do it on you right now.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Kitty cut in. “Finish your lunches.”

“I can’t. I’m going downstairs to watch TV,” Y/n whimpered.

“Okay. Don’t forget your tea!” Kitty called out.

Y/n turned back around and grabbed the warm mug between her cold hands and made her way downstairs. On her way, she grabbed the midol and the hot water bottle.

At this point, Steven was seething as he watched his girlfriend take Fez’s gifts.

“Alright, well, I’m heading out for a few,” Steven announced, quickly getting up. “Thanks for the lunch, Mrs. Forman.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, dear,” she responded.

“Wanna come?” Hyde asked Eric.

Eric looked up at him. “What for?”

“Just come on,” Hyde pushed and grabbed Eric by the shirt, tugging him out the door.

“But I’m not finished!” Eric whined.

“You are now,” Hyde said before closing the sliding door.

“What’s with them?” Red asked.

“I have no clue,” Kitty responded, not caring. “They’re always up to something.”

Outside, Eric shoved himself out of Hyde’s grasp. “What the hell, man?”

“Get in the car,” Hyde ordered, unlocking the El Camino.

“What? No,” Eric said, standing in his place.

“Get in. We have to talk.”

Eric crossed his arms. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Great. Then you can just listen,” Hyde responded standing in front of the driver’s side door, waiting for Eric to get in. His arm rested on top of the car casually as if not a care in the world. “You going to get in?”

“Why should I?”

Hyde groaned. “Just get in the car, man!”

“Are you kidnapping me?” Eric asked as he slowly made his way to the passenger’s side.

“Of course not.”

“You gonna take me to the middle of nowhere, take my clothes after you convince met to skinny dip in the lake, and abandon me while I walk around naked and afraid like last time?”

Hyde rolled his eyes. “I came back for you, didn’t I?”

“Three hours later!”

“For the love of God, just shut up and get in the car!”

“It was so cold,” Eric whimpered as he slid in the front seat and shut the door. “Where are we going?”

“For a drive,” Hyde responded and backed out the driveway. Once they were on the road, Hyde broke the silence. “Listen, man. This whole thing between you, me, and Y/n has gotten way out of hand.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“What happened to you shuttin’ up and letting me talk?”

Eric sighed, making a face. “Fine.”

“Look,” Hyde began. “I know you’re pissed off at us for dating and going behind your back—”

“And lying.”

“…Yeah, and lying about it. But I need you to know that everything I said is true. Y/n is the best thing that’s ever happened to me and when I say that I will do whatever I can to make her happy, I mean it. And this whole ending a friendship over it is stupid.”

Eric stared at Hyde in disbelief. “You’re serious about this? About my sister?”

“Yeah, man. That’s why I’m here talking to you,” he responded and turned onto the main road. “I know we could’ve gone around it differently, but come on man, what would you have done? You’ve been saying that we need to put ourselves in your shoes, well put yourself in our shoes. Imagine if Donna was my sister, but you really liked her. What would you have done?”

Eric was silent for a minute. “Well, we probably wouldn’t be friends considering you kissed her and tried to get with her.”

Hyde gave an exasperated sigh. “Man, will you focus?”

Eric thought about it for a second. “I guess I can understand that.”

“And I want you to know that I won’t disappoint her. I will take care of her and make sure she gets everything she wants and needs. I’m not going to be like the rest of my family and be a deadbeat and end up in prison. I will do good for her.”

Eric turned his gaze to him and suddenly felt an anchor of guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. “Oh, man. Look, Hyde when I said that…I didn’t mean it. I was angry and—”

“It’s fine,” Hyde said, cutting in.

“No, no it’s not,” Eric turned to face him. “It was wrong of me to say that to you. It’s just that…she’s my sister, man. My twin, you know? My favorite sister. I can’t help but feel, you know, maybe a little overprotective of her.”

“No, but you were right,” Hyde confessed and turned onto the highway. “I probably was headed down that path anyway. But being with her has actually made me want to be better.”

Eric looked at Hyde like he had two heads. “You look like my friend, but you don’t sound like him. Where’s Hyde?!”

Hyde chuckled and turned off the highway, noticing Eric calling him his friend. “I know. It’s sickening.”

Eric laughed and turned back around, facing the front. He noticed they were entering downtown. “Hyde…where are we going? This isn’t just a drive anymore.”

“You’ll see in a minute,” he said and continued down a narrow road before stopping in front of a super store. He turned the car off and sat back quietly. “Just so you know, this wasn’t easy for me to talk about it. So, if you tell anyone, I’ll deny the whole thing.”

Eric nodded and looked at Hyde seriously. “I’m still not happy about it, but I guess I don’t have a choice but to accept it. You two really do seem happy.”

Hyde nodded and looked down. “We are, man.”

“Just…don’t hurt her,” Eric said. “Then I’d have to kick your ass and then I’d end up getting my ass kicked and then Red will kick my ass for getting my ass kicked and then he’d hunt you down like a dog and then he’d kick your ass.”

Hyde sat there in stunned silence. “Wow…that’s…detailed. How long have you been sitting on this?”

“Pretty much since I found out.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” Eric replied. “Also, one more thing. I don’t wanna hear or see you and my sister doing anything. The image of you two doing anything makes me want to hurl.”

“Deal,” Hyde chucked. “So, are we good?”

Eric looked at him for a moment and grinned. “Yeah, man, we’re good.”

Hyde nodded and the two boys lifted their hands, bringing each other in for bro-hug.

“Can I just ask you one question, though?” he asked.

Hyde hummed.

“Why her? Why Y/n?”

Hyde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. She’s different. She’s smart and actually funny, interesting, and genuine. Really sweet and cares about others beside herself. Besides, she’s smoking hot.”

“Well, I’d never thought I’d hear my best friend put my sister and ‘smoking hot’ in the same sentence,” Eric retorted and pretended to gag. “Really, really unpleasant.”

“I know. I just said that because I think it’s funny,” Hyde laughed.

Eric slugged him in the shoulder. “And every time you say stuff like that, you’ll get hit.”

They laughed lightly together before Eric slapped a hand on Hyde’s shoulder. “And, uh, don’t worry about my parents. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks, man,” Hyde replied. “Well, let’s go inside.”

“Why are we at this one?” Eric asked, joining Hyde outside the car. “You know there’s like three different stores in town. Why this one?”

“Because this is the biggest one in Point Place and they have everything I want.”

“Which is?”

“You’ll see.”

As they entered the store, Hyde went for the first thing he saw: flowers. Specifically, half a dozen red roses. Then he went towards the freezer section, grabbing a pint of her favorite ice cream: mint chocolate chip.

“Ice cream?” Eric questioned.

“I heard chicks really dig ice cream during their…problem time.”

“Yeah, Donna eats like four of those.”

“Damn,” Hyde sighed. “I’m, uh, I’m not very good at this. All I know is I want Y/n to feel better and I was kind of a jerk earlier.”

“Yeah, about that,” Eric piped up, browsing the ice cream flavors. “Why were reacting that way?” Eric’s eyes grew a fraction wider. “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

“What? No. I don’t get jealous.”

“You so did!” Eric laughed. “You hated that Fez bought all that stuff for her because you felt like a bad boyfriend for not thinking about it earlier!”

“You wanna get your ass kicked this early in the day?” Hyde threatened.

Eric continued to laugh at him. “Just admit it. You totally did.”

Hyde rolled his eyes as he found his way to the soft drink section and grabbed a few bottles of ginger ale. “Okay, fine, maybe a little. But he shouldn’t have been hitting on her. She’s my chick. I should be the one getting all the stuff she needs.”

“And that’s what you’re doing now,” Eric stated, looking around. “Is that why you brought me here? To help you find stuff that she would like?”

“No,” Hyde answered as they entered another aisle. He found a tin box of saltines and bent down to grab them. “I know what she likes; I don’t need you for that. I mainly brought you here so that we could sort crap out.” He picked up a box of assorted chocolates, something he knew she’d like.

“You trying to tell me something?” Eric smirked, causing Hyde to chuckle. “Don’t you think you maybe going a little overboard?” He asked when he noticed Hyde putting everything in the basket.

“Maybe,” he answered honestly and led Eric away from the grocery section. “I just want her to know that I care.”

“Well, she’ll definitely get that message,” the twin responded and noticed where Hyde was leading them. “Seriously? Condoms?”

“You don’t want me to knock her up, do you?”

“I’m still trying to accept you two and by you doing this in front of me is really bumming me out.”

Hyde laughed cruelly. “That’s kind of funny.” He quickly grabbed a pack and threw it in the cart. “Just don’t look at ‘em.”

Eric sighed and looked away. “What else are you giving her?”

“Besides a good time?”

Eric dramatically screeched and squirmed. “Please. Stop. Saying. That.”

Hyde burst into laughter, laughing at his friend’s discomfort. “That will never get old.”

“You’re a sadistic son of a bitch, you know that?”

—Time Skip—

Y/n laid on the couch in the basement, wrapped up in a blanket, mindlessly watching tv. She was in and out of consciousness for the good part of the afternoon. Even though she was sick, she was still upset about her little dispute with Hyde.

When did he become so jealous? Why would he think that of Fez? And worse of all, why didn’t he trust her enough? It hurt, but she was more curious as of why. She could feel her stomach beginning to churn again as it was ready to bring back up what she brought down earlier.

Please, God, no. She quickly sat up, the room spinning for a minute, before she ran back to the bathroom and found herself with her head in the toilet. This had to be the forty-fifth time in the last couple of days of her spending time kneeling in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach into the light green basin.

She held her hair back as tears pricked the corner of her eyes. It hurt so much and all she wanted in that moment was just to stop. What in the hell did she catch that made her feel this violently ill? After she was sure she was done, except from the dry heaving, she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet. She sat against it for a little while longer, wishing her stomach would calm down enough for her to get a good sleep in. She couldn’t help but let a few tears escape. Her back was hurting, her body was aching, and her throat was burning. And on top of all that, she started cramping earlier in the day and the pain hadn’t subsided.

“Y/n?” she heard from the basement living room.

She groaned in response and heard footsteps approach the door to the tiny bathroom. She twisted her face in pain as another surge of nausea reared its ugly head. Hyde appeared in the doorway just as he saw her turn her pale and tortured face into the basin once again. He could hear her whimpers through each retched gag.

“Awe, Doll,” he cooed and knelt down beside her, rubbing her back. He gathered her long hair in his hands and tried to look anywhere besides the toilet. He gently shushed her and reassured her that he was there now for her.

Once she was finished, she fumbled for the handle, and pulled down. Hyde handed her some tissues to wipe her mouth. She gratefully accepted it and sat up fully, leaning against the wall.

“What’re you doing here?” she croaked. “I thought you were pissed at me.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” he responded and helped her off the floor. He wrapped a protective arm around her waist and guided her back to the couch where Eric also sat.

“Are you here to fight? Because this isn’t how I envisioned our first fight.”

He gently sat her on the couch, handing her the blanket and chuckled. “No, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Then what?”

“Mainly to give you these,” he responded and handed her the roses.

Y/n’s face softened as she weakly grasped the flowers in her fists. “What’s this for?”

“An apology,” Hyde responded and took a deep breath. “I know I was a jealous jerk earlier and…I’m sorry, okay?”

She looked at him in the eye. “Why were you?”

“I don’t know,” he responded and rubbed his neck. “I just…I just didn’t like seeing some other guy bring you things that I should be bringing.”

She meekly set the flowers down on the coffee table in front of her. “Steven, do you not trust me?”

“What? Of course I do.”

“Then why did you act like Fez was going to hook up with me and I wouldn’t be able to say no?”

“No, it’s not that. I…I—can you hang on a second?” he turned around to look at Eric. “Can we get a minute?” he asked impatiently.

Eric’s smug look never left his face. “Sure. Doll.”

Hyde stood abruptly, intimidatingly. Eric laughed and ran upstairs.

Y/n knit her eyebrows together. “You guys are okay now or something?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and sat back down. “That’s another story.”

Y/n nodded. “You were saying?”

“Look, Y/n, when I saw Fez jumping in to immediately take care of you, I guess it felt like I…wasn’t doing my job as your boyfriend. And then when you said it did bother you, I knew I wasn’t. And…that maybe what everyone thinks is true.”

“Which is what?” she pressed.

“C’mon, you’re really going to make me say it?”

“Yes,” she responded sternly.

Hyde sighed and tore his eyes away from hers. “That…I’m not good enough…for you. There. Ya happy?”

Y/n sighed, giving him a sad look. “No,” she responded gently and grabbed his hand. “No, I’m not happy. You can’t think that. You can’t let Fez get to you like that and it really didn’t bother me that you didn’t jump up to help me either. I’m a big girl. I can very well go get the stuff myself.”

“So, you don’t mind?”

She smiled gently. “No. Yes, it’s nice if you did that stuff for me and trust me, I’d love it, but I’m not going to make you do it for me. I want you to want to do it for me.”

He smiled at her and kissed the side of her head. “I did get you some things though.” He leaned down and grabbed the white bag, laying out the contents on the table. “I got you some ginger ale and saltines to help you with the nausea and then when it passes, I got you some chocolates and ice cream to satisfy your cravings.”

The look of sweets made her stomach churn, but she smiled through it and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly and kissed her head once more. He noticed that she was shivering and gently stood. “I’ll be right back.” He high tailed it to his room and brought back a sweater. “Here.”

She grabbed it gratefully and threw it over her head, inhaling his scent: musk and woodsy. He settled on the couch next to her as she cuddled his side. He grabbed the blanket and threw it over both of them.

“So, how was your day?” he asked her.

“Fantastic,” she responded. “I spent the day throwing up my body weight and writhing in pain.”

“Sounds like a blast,” he chucked.

“Oh, yeah, it was like a party in the toilet,” Y/n responded and chuckled when Hyde made a face. “How was yours?”

“Well, you know, it was fine,” he responded.

“You and Eric work things out?”

“Yeah. He’s still not happy about it, but he seems to—or trying to at least—accept it. I made him see the bigger picture here.”

“Which is?”

“Us doing it.”

“Steven!”

He threw his head back laughing. “I’m kidding.”

“You better be,” she said and reached over, grabbing the ginger ale. She laid back into his side and took a sip. She hummed and set it in her lap. “Thank you, Steven. This is probably the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”

He smiled at her gently. “Anything for you, doll.”

“Awe that’s so cute,” Eric called from the staircase. “It makes me want to vomit.”

Y/n scowled at him. “What do you want?”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you,” he said and sat down in the opposite chair.

“You want to yell at me again?”

“No,” he responded and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted. I know I was an ass and I should’ve handled it better, but c’mon, my best friend and my sister, hooking up. I never thought that this would happen and to say I was shocked is an understatement.”

“I know,” she responded. “But you still said some pretty hurtful things, Eric, and you can’t take that back.”

“I know and I wish I could. You’re my sister, the best one at that, and Hyde, you’re like a brother to me and I just…it hurt, okay? I can understand not wanting to tell anyone else, but to hide it from me? I felt like you couldn’t trust me.”

Y/n cast her eyes down, feeling guilt. “I’m so sorry, Eric. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. Lying to you wasn’t easy for me.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“How would you take it if we just straight up told you?” “

Yeah, Forman, what would you have said if I straight up said, ‘I’m nailing your sister.’ I bet you still wouldn’t have taken that lightly.”

Eric shuttered at the thought. “Yeah, definitely wouldn’t have. But it still wouldn’t have been as bad as me catching you.”

Y/n looked at her twin for a moment before letting out a groan. “Dammit, I hate it when you’re right.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like I’m not going to kill you or anything.”

“Well, to be fair you did try to disown us,” Hyde defended.

“Okay, yeah, but I just didn’t want to look at you guys at the moment,” Eric said.

“But kicking us out of the group and the house was the logical answer?” Y/n squinted at him.

“Yeah, not my finest moment,” he agreed and sat down next to Y/n, causing her to shift over. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I hope you can forgive me.”

Y/n looked at her brother, eyes getting all misty. “Only if you can forgive me.”

Eric smiled at her. “C’mere little sister.” He brought her in and hugged her tight.

Y/n reciprocated by wrapping her arms tightly. “I’m only two minutes younger.”

“Still,” he chuckled. “Besides, if I don’t forgive you, then I won’t have a sister anymore.”

“We have Laurie,” Y/n responded, pulling away.

“Do you really want her close?”

Y/n paused, pretending to think it over. “No, I really don’t.”

Eric chuckled. “Look, Y/n. I know I was a jerk, but you’re not only my sister, you’re my best friend and I don’t want anything to come between us.”

Y/n nodded, smiling and wiped at her eyes. “Me too.”

“I’m still not entirely happy about you two and to be honest, I’m not sure if I ever will be, but I want you two to be happy and if it’s you two that make each other happy, then so be it. I just don’t want to see any of it.”

“You got it,” Y/n responded, feeling lighter about the situation.

“I’m going to give you the same speech I gave Hyde,” Eric continued as Y/n’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’d never thought I’d have to say this to my sister about my best friend, but don’t hurt him. I may not be able to kick his ass, but I can for sure…try to kick yours.” As he was saying it, he knew it wasn’t true. Even if it was, he wasn’t going to do it anyway.

Y/n cracked a wide smile, a smile that she hadn’t been able to muster for the last couple of days, and nodded. “Okay, bro. That sounds fair.”

He turned to Hyde. “Just so you know, if you get her pregnant, I will have to find a new and interesting way to kick your ass.”

“Trust me, man, that ain’t gonna happen,” Hyde responded.

“Yeah, we’re careful,” Y/n responded, adjusting herself to be laying against Hyde. Her stomach and back were starting hurt again and she was desperate to find some relief. Hyde threw an arm over her shoulders, bringing her closer. “Besides, Dad would literally stick his foot in both of our asses.”

“And somehow, he’d still find a way to blame me,” Eric said.

“Hey, Y/n baby,” Fez called out, entering the basement. “How’re you feeling? You get my gifts?”

“Hi Fez,” Y/n greeted with a tiny smile. “I did, thank you. It was very nice of you, but I’m not feeling too much better.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he responded.

Y/n shrugged and snuggled deeper into Hyde’s side. “What’re you doing here anyway?”

“Just wanted to come by and see how you were feeling,” he responded.

“No, you didn’t,” Hyde spit. “You came here to see if she was alone, didn’t you?”

Fez made a face at him. “What’re you talking about? No, I’m not!”

“Yes you are!” he said and stood up. “Now, knock it off before I make you the first person to touch his chin to ass!”

Fez looked offended, placing his hand on his chest. “Have you been spying on me?!”

“Steven, honey, it’s not that big of deal,” Y/n said, trying to calm down the situation.

“Yeah, honey, listen to your lady,” Fez said, starting to get nervous.

“No, Y/n, he needs to understand respect,” he replied.

“I’m sure he gets it now,” Y/n said, signaling Fez to run now.

“No, he doesn’t,” he responded. “If he—”

He was cut off by the slamming of the door as Fez ran outside, away from him.

“He’s not getting away that easily,” Hyde commented before darting to the door.

“Hyde, no!” Y/n called after him. She jumped up from her seat, despite her stomach and head screaming at her.

Hyde ran out the door, causing it to slam against the wall. Y/n followed him out the door, ignoring the sudden faint feeling she had.

“Steven, stop!” she called again, her voice weakened and wavering. She could see Hyde quickly gaining speed on Fez.

Fez screamed as Hyde tackled him to the ground on the Forman’s front lawn. Eric was behind Y/n in a flash, watching the scene in front of him unfold. Hyde struggling to get Fez in a choke hold, Fez fighting to get out of his grip, and Y/n yelling at him to stop.

“Steven, enough!” Y/n shrieked weakly, her voice quieting as the world started to spin, the edges of her vision darkening. “Steven, please…”

Her vision darkened as she hit the ground, making the two boys suddenly stop to jerk their attention towards her. Eric dropped to the ground next to her.

“Y/n!” Steven shouted, letting Fez go and running over to her. “Y/n!”

And that was the last thing she heard before she was swallowed by darkness.

Tags: @lieswithoutfairytales @mdittyz123 @n-dg-wm @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-003 @taysirene

#Steven Hyde #steven hyde x reader #that 70s show #That '70s Show #that 70's show fanfic #Eric Forman #Donna Pinciotti #jackie burkhart #fez #Michael Kelso #red forman #kitty forman

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 3 years

Text

Callbacks & Cannoli Cake

Requested by: The wonderful Wignony! (“If I haven't missed the cut off, could I request an imagine with Joe and reader? Something sickeningly sweet and romantic, maybe along the lines of a proposal/ wedding day/ honeymoon?”)

Summary: Joe got good news at work, but tonight you’ll have something even better to celebrate.

Warnings: Language, literal sugary sweetness, a tiny bit of angst (I’m sorry, you know me, I couldn’t help it! 😂).

Word Count: 1.5k.

You’re reading the text for the fifth time when he walks through the front door. I GOT THE PART!!! See yo fine ass at 6:15 ;)

“Hey, firefly!” Joe calls brightly, racing into the kitchen and linking his arms around your waist from behind, kissing the back of your neck with loud, comedic smacks as you giggle and try not to massacre the icing you’ve been painstakingly smoothing with a spatula. He’s called you that since your first date, a picnic in Grand Hope Park that was supposed to just be lunch and turned into drinks, tapas, dinner, and ice cream for dessert as fireflies crept out of their shelters and freckled the sky with their harmless, inborn lightning.

“Joe, babe, stop, please stop, I’m going to ruin the cake—”

Joe gasps, spying it for the first time. “A cannoli cake? You made me a cannoli cake?!”

You lift up the heavy glass cake plate and gingerly show him, wearing a sheepish smile. “I thought we should celebrate. There’s lasagna in the oven, it’ll be done in twenty minutes.”

“So we get to eat the cake first.”

You laugh, ferrying the cannoli cake to the kitchen table as Joe picks up the spatula and licks it like a lollipop, moaning orgasmicly, mascarpone frosting peppered with miniature chocolate chips dotting his nose and chin. “Tonight, Mr. Mazzello, you get everything you want.”

Today was his third callback for the part, a co-starring role of the protagonist’s best friend in a romantic comedy directed by Richard Curtis. And while you are firmly of the belief that Joe is more than worthy of lead roles—especially in romantic comedies, a genre in which he has been criminally underutilized—you know he’s thrilled to have landed it. Rebel Wilson, Colin Firth, and Zendaya are involved in the project as well, and filming will take place mostly in the gorgeous island paradise of Turks and Caicos. Which means that Joe will soon be jetting off to the Caribbean for months on end, leaving you here in Los Angeles to tend your bakery and catch up on your reading list and snuggle with the cats and try not to grow bitter about the fact that most people don’t have to give up their significant others for vast, volatile stretches of the year, most people don’t constantly feel like they’re battling to keep a surfboard level over waves of impermanence. And that’s what you’re really trying to do tonight: not just celebrate Joe’s accomplishments, not just make him happy, but to make sure he doesn’t notice the sadness around your eyes, the mournful slump in the set of your shoulders.

But as he sits down at the table and cuts two messy, hulking slices of cannoli cake and gives you the bigger one, Joe does notice something. His dark eyes catch on you and narrow. His brow furrows in concern. “What’s up, firefly?”

“Nothing,” you reply, slipping into the chair beside him, running your fingers through his hair and forcing a smile. “I’m so proud of you, Joe. And I know you’ll love it. I just...you know.” You take an unenthusiastic bite of cake and shrug, apologetic, feeling childish and selfish and ridiculous. “I’ll miss you.”

“Aww, I know, firefly. I’ll miss you too. But we’ll talk all the time, we’ll text and call and I’ll comment heart-eyes emojis on all your Instagram posts, and you can take a few long weekends to come visit me...and we can FaceTime so I can say hi to the cats and our beloved apartment!”

“Our apartment,” you murmur; because it doesn’t feel much like both of yours. You’ve only shared it for three months, and Joe has easily been out of town for two of them. And although you have no right at all to be disenchanted with an arrangement that you knowingly signed up for, you can’t help but fear that it all has an inescapable aura of transience, that one day Joe won’t come back home at all, and that the apartment won’t even feel that different without him in it; like he’s a comet that comes with the decades, a passing marvel that you can see but never own.

Joe reaches out and takes your free hand, the one not holding your fork. “Hey,” he says softly. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

“I’m not mad, I’m really not, I want you to have this. I know it’s what brings you happiness, I know it’s what you’re brilliant at, I just...I guess I just wish this all felt a little more permanent.”

That seems to surprise him. “What, like, you and me being permanent?”

“Yeah.” You take another bite of cannoli cake. It’s good. It’s really freaking good, actually. Joe’s massive slice is gone already; he cuts another, peering uncertainly over at you. He still doesn’t appear to get it. “What I mean is that I feel like you’re never here long enough for the apartment to start feeling like ours. You’re more like a guest. Petunia and Iris might think you’re just my hot friend who occasionally sleeps over and takes bubble baths with me.”

“I don’t think cats have a particularly deep understanding of commitment anyway.”

You laugh, mostly to break the gravity. This is the precise opposite of how you wanted this night to go. “Never mind, I’m being dumb. Forget it.” You smile again, as convincingly as you can. The scent of lasagna now fills the small kitchen; the orange-pink light of the sunset pours in through the open windows. “Enjoy Turks and Caicos. Make a hilarious movie. Slurp down your weight in daiquiris served in coconut shells. And try not to get too sunburned, I want to be able to touch you when I fly down to visit. We don’t need a repeat of Miami, lobster boy.”

Joe sets down his fork, crosses his arms over his chest, and grins at you thoughtfully, craftily.

“Uh oh. What?”

“Well, you see, it’s interesting that you brought up this whole permanence thing.”

You shake your head. “Joe, really, I don’t want to make tonight about me. I just want to celebrate. Can we do that?”

“Oh, we’re still celebrating, firefly. But I have one more thing to tell you about.”

“It better not be another cat. That’s really not the solution to this problem. Is it another cat? Jesus christ, if your mother is trying to get us to adopt another one of her rescue cats, I’m going to fucking scream—”

“It’s not a cat.”

“Then what is it?”

“Well,” Joe begins, grinning broadly now. “I guess it’s less of something I have to tell you and more of something I have to ask you.”

“...Ask me...what...?”

His hand slides into the pocket of his Hawaiian cargo shorts—not his best look, if you’re being totally honest about it—where for the first time you notice the faint outline of a tiny square. He takes out the ring box and sets it down between you on the table. Your fork tumbles out of your grasp and hits the floor, splattering frosting and cake crumbs. An ecstatic gasp rips from between your teeth. Your hands fly up to cover your mouth.

“No way...”

“Yes way.” Joe gestures to the box. “I don’t know what continent I’m going to be on six months from now. I don’t know how often I’ll find myself home in our apartment. I don’t know how great of a cat dad I am. But I know that I want you with me every step of the way. So, if you’re down to make this thing permanent, and to bake me cannoli cakes for the remainder of my earthly existence, I’d like for you to marry me. I’d love for you to marry me, actually. And if you need some time to think it over before giving me an answer, I completely understand—”

You rush out of your chair and into his shocked but welcoming arms, almost knocking him out of his seat as you climb into his lap, laughing, crying, kissing him as tears stream down your cheeks. “I don’t need time. I’m saying yes. Right here, right now, Mr. Mazzello.”

“You don’t even want to see the ring first?” he teases.

“Nope. I’m in no matter what it looks like. I swear on our neglected feline daughters’ lives.”

“Oh thank god, because my bank account is super sparse until this new gig starts paying and it’s a literal Ring Pop.”

Joe’s joking, of course; he’s joking almost all the time, which is one of the innumerable things you love about him. But you really don’t care what the ring looks like. You care about what it means, about the promise it holds, about the peace it gives you to carry around like armor against all the uncertainties of the world.

And Joe whispers, beaming: “Now, future Mrs. Mazzello, I really do have everything I want.”

#sleepover event!#joe mazzelo x reader #joe mazzello imagine

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

Can you do 60 for indruck, NSFW? Thank you so much! Love your work!

Here it is! I set it in the same world as this sternclay fill. Credit to @bellafarallones for playing in this space on discord. Apollo is from my Super hero AU

“All I’m sayin is it seems mighty unfair to me that one fella gets a handler-assistant type deal and the rest of us don’t.” Duck crosses his arms as Ned fiddles with the pen on his desk.

“You’re not wrong, dear boy, but Apollo was in high demand from the higher ups-”

“Because he’s a shallow dipshit with a mean streak who’ll be good for ratings?”

“Precisely. He demanded in his contract that we allow his twin to continue his work as his photographer and assistant. He has over a million followers on Instagram, so those photos will be a boost to the show. Just try to get along for the camera’s?”

“His brother ain’t even on camera.” Duck mutters.

“I meant with Apollo.”

Duck shrugs, defeated, “sure thing, Ned.”

As he walks back to the main house, he mulls over the fact that the twin (Indrid, he thinks that’s the guys name) bugs him more than Apollo does. Apollo is vain, mean, and selfish, but at least that gets him things, even makes sense for the kind of show they’re on. Indrid gains nothing by helping him out here. Except protection from the bully, which Duck finds to be the worst kind of cowardice. Hopefully Vincent, this season’s bachelor, will see through the “influencer” and send him packing ASAP.

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

Four weeks in, and this is exactly what Duck was worried about. Not only is Indrid hovering around his brother like a nervous moth (excet when cameras are near, at which point he ducks out of frame), he’s doing fucking nothing to reign him in.

A few frontrunners are starting to emerge, and with that claws are coming out. Barclay, a chef and all around nice guy, is the target of choice. Nico and Josh both took bites out of him this morning. But Apollo sunk his teeth in like a dog on a fox, calling him, among other things, a pathetic, six-foot puppy dog who no man would ever want. The cook left noticeably teary eyed. Duck was about to block the cameras from following when Joseph beat him to it. Which is weird, because he thought Joe couldn’t stand Barclay. Apollo flounces off, but Duck corners Indrid where he’s been stoically watching his brother be a raging asshole.

“What the fuck man?”

‘Wrong twin.” Indrid says flatly, indicating his silver hair, tied back in a half-bun. His dark roots are showing and his eyebrows are black, unlike Apollo’s immaculate blonde dye job and bleached brows.

“Nope, right one. You’re his handler, cant’ you fuckin intervene when he’s doin’ shit like that? Or are you just here to let him hurt whoever he feels like?”

Indrid fixes him with a bitter smile, “If there were a way to make my brother be kind or, indeed, see others as people, don’t you think I’d have found it and used it everyday since?”

“I-”

“You people have no idea how much I’m already doing. I kept him from going after you yesterday by reminding him he looks ugly when he yells on camera. And if nothing else console yourself with the fact you all have only to deal with him for a few months. Some of us have endured twenty-eight years of it.”

With that, he turns and stalks from the room. As he leaves, Duck can’t shake the thought that his black denim jacket and worn jeans fit him better than Apollo’s designer ones ever could.

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

Indrid understands why there’s so much alcohol on set, but he can’t partake (too bitter) and it makes Apollo even harder to handle than usual. Which is why Indrid is out on the grounds at ten p.m, intending to hide from his brother until dawn.

At six weeks in, fan favorites are getting more established and Indrid, needing to predict Apollo’s mood in order to do his job, is keeping a close eye on them. His twin is well-liked for being snarky and hot, though he suspects the large number of contestants means there have been limited chances for his unpleasant side to be showcased. Joseph is another, because of course he is, movie-star handsome with an interesting past. Barclay is beloved for the very things that the other contestants torment him for. And Duck? Duck is quickly becoming the one people think Vincent will choose.

Indrid thinks they’re right. He’s charming in an understated way, funny, and while Apollo needles him for his “dad bod,” Indrid and Vincent have both noticed the muscles in his arms. Who gives a damn about flat abs? Indrid would much rather have something soft to rest his head on while those green eyes look lovingly down at him. His crush on Duck is useless, persistent, and must be hidden from Apollo at all costs.

His foot catches something solid and he tumbles over the obstacle to land ass-first on the lawn.

“Ow.” He glares at the object. The object turns out to be Duck Newton, who's obviously drunk as he sits up.

“Sorry man, thought no one’d come out here. Oh it’s you, it's, uh, fuck, fuck c'mon” he snaps his fingers as he searches his thoughts, “It's cute Apollo!”

“Indrid.” Surely Duck didn’t mean to use that adjective. Right?

“No, I’m Duck?”

He snickers, “No, I meant I’m Indrid.”

“Ohhh, right. You're Indrid. I'm Duck. That's the big dipper” He points at the sky. Indrid follows the line and grins, delighted.”

“It is!”

“Uhhuh. C'mere, can show you more.” Duck pats the spot beside him and lays back. Indrid scoots closer and reclines as well, making appreciative sounds each time Duck shows him a constellation.

As they’re studying the sky, the other man whispers, “Can I tell you a secret? I, I think Joe’n Barclay are into each other now."

“The way they look at each other is not exactly subtle.”

‘“Heh, yeah.” he links his hands across his belly, “I think they're in love. You ever been in love?”

“No.” He sighs, not wanting to dwell on that pile of baggage, “You?”

“Nope. And, uh, don’t, don’t tell anyone but I don't think I am with Vincent. Maybe I could be? Does that make me a bad person? He's nice, think he likes me a lot but, I, I dunno.”

“Not being in love with someone doesn’t make you a bad person. No more than loving someone does.”

Indrid is hard to surprise; years of getting out ahead of his brother and father taught him how to see things coming. But nothing could prepare him for Duck rolling to hide his face against Indrid’s chest. Not knowing what else to do, he pats his back, notices a woodsy scent tingling his nose.

“You smell good.” He winces; that was too creepy, now Duck will pull the comforting bulk of his body away.

“Thanks. I bought a bunch of cologne when I realized I was actually going to be a contestant. News clothes too. Thought it would give me an edge but...I dunno, can't compete with a guy like your brother.”

“Join the club.” Indrid reaches up to toy with a lock of Duck’s black hair, expecting Duck to bat him away. Instead, he sighs and turns his head to give Indrid better access.

“You could compete with ‘im. You're cuter. Nicer too.”

“Oh. Ah. Thank you.”

Duck’s fidgets with the mothman pin on Indrid’s jacket, “You wanna cuddle?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No one cuddles with me. And we ain’t allowed to cuddle Vincent yet.” He looks up, lips pouting just enough to be charming.

Indrid let’s a purr enter his voice, “That’s a shame. I’m happy to cuddle.”

Duck rolls more of his body onto Indrid, resolutely nestling his head under his chin and tangling their legs together. His hands stay on Indrid’s chest and shoulders, though he’s now drunkenly petting Indrid’s collarbone, making him shiver. He expends four months worth of daring in a second, wrapping his arms around the curves of Duck’s torso. When Duck’s fingers brush skin instead of shirt, Indrid whimpers, then bites his lip and prays it went unnoticed.

“You don’t get cuddled much either, do you?” Duck murmurs thoughtfully.

“No.”

“Damn shame, you’re real good at it. Can cuddle me any time.”

Indrid “mmhmms” knowing the promise is like the stars; bright and comforting in the darkness, but ultimately beyond his reach.

Three day later, he drops his guard; Apollo’s been on his good behavior since Vincent’s been spending more time with him. You’d think Indrid would learn by now that all his venom has to go somewhere.

He’s huddled down in the rec room trying not to cry; it’s pathetic enough that he let such childish insults get to him, but to cry over them would confirm everything his brother said.

“Indrid? You, uh, you okay?” Duck’s reflection in the darkened T.V approaches his own.

“I'm fine.” It’s the same inflection he’s used hundreds of times, but Duck sits down on the couch all the same.

“Do you, uh, need a hug?’

“No.” He replies a hair too quickly.

“Do you want one?”

“......Badly.”

Duck opens his arms and Indrid shifts on the cushions, doing his best to curl his long limbs so they’ll fit in his embrace. The shorter man notices, concern flashing on his face.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay. You, uh, wanna hear the most exciting news of the day?” He waits for Indrid to nod, “there was a cougar sightin’ in the foothills near here!”

“That is both very exciting and alarming.”

“Doubt it’d go after folks, they try to steer clear of people. We don’t have ‘em back home, but you learn what to do when you’re also learnin how to deal with bears.”

“How does one deal with a bear? Other than buying them a drink.”

Duck snorts, relaxes further into the couch, “Depends on how soon you see ‘em…”

They emerge two hours later, and Indrid is so engrossed in their conversation about hiking incidents that he runs smack into a camera man. While he’s apologizing profusely, Duck guffaws, steadies him, and leads him off in search of somewhere to watch the sunset.

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

“Oooh, ooh, look, sea lions!” Indrid points to the distant wharf.

“Good eye. Man, those fuckers are big. Glad none of ‘em were in the water when we did that fuckin cliff dive.”

“I for one would pay good money to see my brother chased by a sea lion.”

Duck chuckles, pops the tab on his WhiteClaw. They’re having dinner on the beach, a gourmet spread meant to encourage them to show off their pallets. Indrid took Barclay’s recommendation and ordered the whole, grilled snapper, which he assumed he’d be eating alone; Vincent’s attention has been on Duck ever since he went swimming this morning. Duck seems to be enjoying it, but come dinner time he demurred (“gotta let some of the other fellas have a chance”) and brought his basket of fried oysters over to join Indrid on the sand.

“Speakin of your brother, kinda surprised he didn't make any digs at this whole, uh, situation.” Duck gestures to the torso Indrid is currently aching to lick droplets of saltwater from. To subdue the craving, he licks salt from his fingers before replying.

“I, ah, the last time he tried to, I reminded him of all the pictures I have of him eating. He hates to be seen eating. Most of the time.” He tilts his head towards his twin, who’s chowing down next to Vincent without a care for the cameras. Indrid sets his hand on the warm sand, “I’ve been trying to, well, reign him in as you suggested. Or at least make him think twice about his choices.”

(Indrid omits the part where he’s most likely to risk it if Duck is the one with the target on his back).

Duck sets his hand down beside Indrid’s, brushes sand from the side of it with a calloused thumb, “Mighty good of you. But, uh, think I mighta read things wrong that day. You gotta handle him how you think best. Just, uh, just promise me you won’t sacrifice your own well-bein’ for my sake, or anyone else’s. We’re all grown-ass men; we can handle it.”

“I promise.” He lies.

The other man leans back on his hands, green eyes drifting across the waves. Indrid would gladly sit in silence the rest of the night, it’s so easy to be comfortable in the lull when it’s Duck filling the space beside him.

Eventually, the ranger murmurs, “It’s so fuckin breathtaking. The ocean, I mean. Maybe if you live on a coast you get used to it but man, it is somethin;.”

“More so than the forest?”

Duck smiles, “It’s like apples and oranges. Monongahela got its own charms; you’d have a blast takin pictures and drawin there, believe me. If, uh, if Apollo and I both make it to the final four, uh, maybe we could take a few hours durin’ my hometown visit and I could show you my favorite spot.

Indrid imagines the two of them beneath the trees, walking hand in hand.

“I’d like that.”

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

“You know you’re just a distraction, right?”

Indrid doesn’t look at his brother, just flips the page in his book, “I doubt that. You’ve said, often, that I’m too off-putting to be interesting.”

“Not when there’s competition for someone superior; Duck knows he might not win. You’re his back-up if he doesn’t, and a way to kill time until the end. Once Vincent sends him home, which he most definitely will, he’ll keep you around until something better comes along.”

“Don’t act like you know him.” Indrid hisses, looking up just in time to see something scurrying behind the triumph on Apollo’s face: fear.

So, his brother has a new weakness. He’ll tuck that away for later; this is shaping up to be an unpleasant conversation, but not one requiring quite that degree of weapon.

“You should thank me. If I weren’t so captivating, Vincent would spend all his time with Duck. Then you’d be without any attention at all. Even Duck’s taste isn’t that abysmal.” He grins his several thousand dollar smile, “he and Vincent are probably laughing about it right now.”

Indrid stands, crosses the tiny room, “Shut up, Apollo.”

Then he slams the door. There’s a yelp, followed by “you hit my nose, you pathetic excuse for a man, ow, open this door this instant I’m not done with you!”

He flicks the lock and sits back on the bed. There’s a tin of sensory putty on his nightstand and he opens it, playing with it between his fingers. Duck brought it for him after a museum date with Vincent. The image of him not only thinking of Indrid when he saw something, but then buying it for him just to see him smile makes him want to grin and hide his face in a pillow like a teenager who just got asked to prom.

But maybe this date is going differently.

Indrid squeezes the putty, repeats the mantra he’s had since he was a child, “Apollo always lies. Apollo always lies.”

Eventually, he’s calm enough to work on some tattoo commissions, is coloring away when there’s a knock on the door. A secret knock Duck invented as a goof. Throwing open the door reveals the shorter man wearing a suit jacket and an exhausted expression. Indrid gestures to the bed, shuts and locks the door as Duck slumps on the mattress and sets his head in his hands.

“Whelp, that was a shit-show.”

“What happened?” Indrid sits cross-legged beside him.

“Vincent went in for a kiss and I, uh, I turned him down. I mean, he took it well because he’s a sweet guy but I, I feel like shit.”

“There’s no shame in not wanting to kiss just yet.”

“That ain’t the problem. I, I wanna kiss someone on this set, but it ain’t him. Indrid” he looks up, green eyes watery, “Indrid, I think I’m fallin in love with you.”

“Oh. I, are you sure-”

“The whole night, and I mean the whole fuckin night, I was thinkin about you. Thought how nice the trip to the botanical gardens would be with you there to point out color combos and get excited about butterflies. Wanted to hold your hand over dinner. Fuck, when they brought out the dessert menu all I could think was how fun it’d be to order one of each thing to surprise you so you’d do that thing you do with your hands when you’re real excited.” Duck turns, sets his hands on Indrid’s shoulders, “‘Drid, if you don’t want this, I’ll back off but-”

Indrid cuts him off with a kiss, let’s strong arms pull him down to the bed and presses as close to Duck as he can, as if any space between them might be a way for the universe to push them apart.

“Than fuck” Duck pants, cupping his face, “wait, fuck, what do we do now? I can’t string poor Vincent on.”

“We’ll get them to let you out of your contract. It can’t be that hard, right?”

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

“Absolutely not” Ned shakes his head, “dropping out of the show is out of the question.”

“But that ain’t fair to any of us. Can we at least tell Vincent the truth?”

“No, it needs to look as if he naturally decided not to choose you. If not, we could be accused of manipulating results; the last time that happened, the ratings tanked for that season and the next. And my predecessor was fired.”

Duck looks at Indrid, “Guess I’ll just...pull back? That way Vincent won’t have a reason to choose me and’ll let me go soon.”

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

“Droppin out is outta the question, huh?” Duck mutters to Indrid as they watch Barclay and Joseph walk off holding hands, the host eagerly asking them questions as they go.

“I suppose he didn’t drop so much as sprint.” Indrid glances at the rose in Duck’s hand, “congratulations on making the final...well, final three now.”

“Thanks? Guess Apollo’s pretty happy about it too.”

“Yes, but his ego needs no stroking.” Indrid smiles, “maybe this means you’ll get to show me the woods?”

“I hope so. Huh. What are they gonna do with the rest of us when it’s not our turn for the hometown visit?”

The answer turns out to be: drag everyone to each hometown. Because they no longer have Joe’s trip to do, Ned decided they needed more scenes of the contestants exploring where their competitors came from.

Kepler is first, and tonight is the night Duck’s been dreading. His romantic, home-town date that everyone expects to end with at least some kissing. He manages to make it through dinner, even enjoys showing Vincent the down-town he spent years roaming. But as they start down the river walk for a romantic stroll, his heart is trying to smash its way out of his ribs.

“It’s alright, you know.” Vincent stops, guiding Duck to face him, “the fact you want to be with Indrid.”

“I, uh, fuck, I, I don’t not know, uh, fuck-” he closes his eyes, “how’d you know?”

“I’m more observant than I get credit for.” Vincent brushes his cheek, “I’ve had a hunch for weeks now, but I kept you around because I liked having you here, even if I suspected it wasn’t going to end with us together. I’m very fond of you, Duck. You deserve someone who makes you happy. I promise I’ll send you home this next rose ceremony”

“Christ” Duck chuckles, “you’re a hell of a guy too, Vince. I hope whoever you pick treats you right. I, uh, can I, should we…?”

Vincent plants a chaste kiss on his cheek, then smiles, “go get him.”

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

“Any twos?”

“No. Go fish.”

Apollo grumbles as he takes another card. Given Duck and Vincent are on their date, neither he nor Indrid is having a good night. Before Indrid can make his ask, his twin says, “How do you get people to like you?”

“Why do you care? You’ve made it this far, so obviously Vincent likes you a great deal”

“I don’t just mean him. I, I mean, I want him to like me. To want me. But I suspect he’d like me better if other people did.”

Indrid idly taps his cards, “I suggest you stop acting like our father.”

“I’m nothing like him!” Apollo squawks.

“Oh, but you are. Everything he taught us you still hold as true; you’re just the newest version of men like him. Self-absorbed. Cruel. Shallow. I’m amazed you’ve gotten this far with Vincent, given that the age difference means you’d be caring for him in his old age.”

“I, I can care for him. I will!”

“Apollo, I wouldn’t trust you to care for a potted plant.” He sets his cards down.

“At least I’m not a-”

“Ambitionless deviant who has to ride his brother’s coattails to survive?”

“Wha--how-”

“Like I said; you’re just like him. Down to your insults.” Indrid stands, “I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

His brother remains speechless--a rare state for him--as he closes the door and heads for his room. He doubts Duck will do anything on the date (hell, the two of them have only been able to steal some kisses now and then), but the whole charade has him feeling low.

There are far more cameras in the rented house than there were a few hours ago. Which means the rest of the crew is back. Does that also mean…

“Hey, sugar. I was just lookin for you.”

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

Duck’s glad his door is open, because otherwise Indrid would have smashed it to pieces dragging them both through it. He’d only gotten out the barest explanation before the taller man was kissing his face and tugging at his clothes, purring “mine” over and over again.

“Yep, all yours.” He shuts the door as Indrid mouths at his neck, “which also means you’re all mine.” He yanks Indrid’s black sweater up and over his head, sends the matching t-shirt after it a moment later. Indrid whines, fumbling with Duck’s dress shirt, and he gets an idea.

“Uh uh, only good boys who show me why they deserve it get to feel me up.”

Indrid groans into his shoulder, fisting the fabric of his jacket “What constitutes good behavior in this instance?”

“One sec, don’t go nowhere.” He starts to step past him, pauses to grips his chin and pull him into another kiss, “and no peekin.”

As he digs through his bag for the strap on he brought just in case, he keeps an eye on Indrid to be sure he’s following the directions. The taller man’s fingers twitch, but his head stays still. God, Duck is going to memorize the shape of each of the tattoos decorating his skin with his mouth.

“You did real good.” He slips around Indrid once more, resting his back on the wall. Indrid notices the new bulge in his pants and thuds to his knees.

“May I?”

“You better.”

Indrid undoes the button of his fly. Then he looks at Duck over the rim of his glasses as he takes the zipper between his teeth and pulls it down. When the black silicone of the strap breaks free, Indrid cocks his head as if unsure of his options. Duck doesn’t really have a plan--he just wants to be with him, to make him feel good and show him just what weeks of pent-up desire have done to him--but he’s starting to regret that choice.

Indrid flicks hair from his face and wraps his lips around the head of the cock experimentally. He hums, sucking on it a moment, then pulls back blushing, “This is going to sound strange but, ah, I, I really like that. It’s such a lovely texture on my tongue, it’s, it’s almost soothing to suck.”

“Guess you better keep suckin it then, huh?” Duck runs the fingers of his right hand through Indrid’s hair.

“Is that really alright? It can’t feel like much on your end.”

“Don’t mean it ain’t fun to watch. But, uh” he touches the edge of Indrid’s red glasses, “it okay if I take these off?”

Indrid nods and Duck slides them free, tucks them into his breast pocket for safekeeping as Indrid draws the cock into his mouth again. He focuses on the head at first, humming and moaning as it bumps his cheek. Then Duck sees him swallow and relax the muscles of his jaw as he presses closer. Little puffs of breath tickle Duck’s skin as Indrid gets most of the cock in his mouth, cheeks hollowing and head bobbing as he sucks. Hungry noises burlbe up his throat, and the more he lets himself go the messier he becomes, spit coating his lips and eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

“Okay, I lied.”

Brown eyes shoot him a disbelieving look.

“This ain’t fun. This is one of the hottest fuckin things I’ve ever seen.”

Indrid wiggles happily on his knees, left hand dropping to rubs his own cock through his jeans.

“Needy little thing, gotta have somethin down your throat and around your dick at the same time.”

“MMMhhmmm” Indrid purrs, the picture of filthy perfection.

“If, if you swallow the whole thing, I’ll let you finger-fuck me.”

Both hands fly to his thighs with an excited moan. Indrid’s brow crinkles with determination as he slowly, carefully brings his lips to the base of the toy. Duck groans out “good boy” and shoves his pants down, Indrid helping to drag them to his ankles. Indrid keeps his left hand on Duck’s hip while the right hovers below his folds. Duck takes it, the toy making the angle a bit awkward, and guides it against him.

“Start with one.”

Indrid nods, moans reverently as he obeys. Duck curses, looks down to find Indrid watching him attentively. Duck is going to wreck him. Then he’s going to cuddle him to sleep and wonder at the fact he got this lucky.

“You’re doin’ great, sugar. Promise I’ll tell you if you need to adjustOH, ohyeah” he lets his head rest against the chipped white of the door, “that’s the spot. Fuck it, add one more, Ahfuck, yeah, those artists fingers are fuckin perfect for this.”

Another purr and then a sharp, choked noise. Duck looks down, realizing he rolled his hips without meaning to. Before he can apologize, Indrid grips his thigh and shakes his head.

“You like that?”

“Mmhhmmm” Indrid traces a heart on his belly.

“You’ll pull off you need to?”

“Mhmmmm.” Indrid curls his fingers as his stretched lips manage to grin.

“Fuck!” Duck giggles, “okay, if my darlin wants his face fucked, that’s what he’ll get.” He keeps a hand on Indrid’s shoulder as he lets loose, grunts and curses mingling with the increasingly wet moans of his cock claiming Indrid’s throat. Soon he’s out of words, too busy with the sight of himself forcing Indrid’s lips apart as he tightens around his fingers. Handjobs are a toss-up for him most days; sometimes they work, other times he can’t cum from them at all. It turns out what makes it very easy to do so is-

“‘Drid, fuck, fuck, sugar, yeah, right there, rightthererightthere ohfuckyeah.” He cums, jerking his hips hard enough to punch a new, high sound from Indrid’s throat. The other man pulls off, rests his cheek on Duck’s belly with shuddery, satisfied sighs.

“Y’know” Duck unbuttons his shirt from the bottom up so Indrid can more easily nuzzle the skin there, “I had this whole plan where I was gonna fuck you with this and then ride your face to cum.”

“I’m not opposed.” Indrid grins, bouncing a bit.

“Yeah, but I’ve only got one in me tonight. So” He tosses the shirt away, pulls off the harness as Indrid nibbles his hips, “if you wanna cum, you’re gonna have to do all the work.”

An edge enters his smile, “I can manage that.”

Duck hits the floor with a whump, Indrid trapping him on his back and climbing atop him, all the while kissing him with abandon.

“May I fuck you?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Condom?”

“Dop kit, bathroom, aw come back.”

“Patience, sweetheart” Indrid blows him a kiss, returns a few moments later doing an inelegant dance to kick his jeans and boxers away, “got one!”

“Good, now get back down here before I-AHfuck!” Indrid is on him and in him so fast it knocks his breath away.

“Before what? You’re not going anywhere, you’re mine, alllllll mine.” He drags kisses across Duck’s cheek, then bites his chapped lip as he looks down at him, “right?”

“You know it, nnng, fuck, that’s it sugar, be a good boy and cum for me. Fuck, darlin, wanted this so bad.” He locks his fingers into silver hair to keep Indrid in kissing distance as the other man whimpers, thrusts shallow and rabbity.

“Want you too, so much, I’ll be worth it, I swear, I’ll be good, I’ll, I’ll make you so happy.”

Duck rests their foreheads together, “You already do.”

There’s a high, gasping moan, almost like a chirp, and Indrid rides out his orgasm in drawn-out rolls of his hips. Then he collapses, laughing, on Duck’s chest.

“I, I’m sorry, I just never thought I’d get this. Someone wanting me. Choosing me.”

“I mean, I went on a T.V show to find love, so I know a little somethin about that fear. But I also know findin you is better than anythin I ever imagined.”

“Likewise.” Indrid nestles closer, one hand reaching out to hold Duck’s where it’s flopped on the rug.

“...You realize this means there’s a fifty-fifty chance your brother will win.”

Indrid shrugs, lifts his head to smile at Duck, “I leave that to Vincent. I already got my prize.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #bachelor au #meet ugly

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jzixuans · 4 years

Note

please sir, can I have some tog fic recs?

oh SO many hold on okay (these are all gonna be on ao3)

also under the cut to spare my poor followers

i’ll lay my roots in fertile ground by itsmylifekay (13154 words)

Andy did this on purpose, she’s sure of it. No matter how many excuses about skillsets and plans and 'you’ve been working on your Arabic, it’ll be good practice, Nile'… she knows now it was all a bunch of lies. There can be no other explanation for why she has been here, stuck with Joe in the middle of a hot, Italian summer while Andy has taken Nicky to the northern most part of France. It is a unique and unexpected kind of hell.

(A series of seven stories, snapshots of the first few years of Nile's time with the team. I'm trash for Nile & Nicky & Joe dynamics so there's a lot of that in here, but the others are all part of the craziness as well.)

fluffy slice of life post movie, really funny, really soft, i love how the author built their relationships

though you are alone and not quite beyond loneliness by dialux (26238 words)

“Joe didn’t lie back in that lab,” Booker tells him gently. “I am selfish. I am a liar. But beyond everything else, Nicky, I’m a coward.”

“Really,” says Nicky, looking unimpressed.

[Booker tries to save his family from Quynh. He's rather good at it, if not a little dramatic about the entire process. In the meantime, he learns a little more about himself, his family, and the definitions of bravery, forgiveness and love.]

a study in booker! real in depth, real great long read. (warning for antagonist quỳnh)

even if we win the battle by glitter_lisp (2591 words)

"Our Nile may have missed her calling,” Nicky says with a choked, hoarse laugh. “She should have been an actor. Or a surgeon.”

Then he slumps over in Joe's arms, unconscious, and Nile drops the scalpel, spins around, and throws up on the carpet.

whump but oh so good. focus on nile + nicky after a particularly harrowing mission with some good good nile + joe. (warnings for torture, mentions of throwing up (i mean it’s in the summary), blood, and some leftover trauma)

six summers down by sharkhette (3385 words)

Nile watched the first rays of the sun come filtering through the trees, softly dappling the path in yellow and grey. "Tell me something good?" she asked. "Everything's been such a shitshow since I met you—since even before that. And now, with Booker gone, and Andy…" She swallowed and turned to Nicky, who watched her with big, soft eyes. "Just tell me something I can look forward to in all this."

nile and nicky go for a run. the consequences of immortality catch up to her. some real good nile + nicky plus bonus immortal family at the end (warning for talk of quỳnh’s drowning)

atlas by bestillmyslashyheart (1336 words)

Nile is fine until she isn't. When the weight of her actions catches up to her, she needs someone to talk to.

some more nile + nicky from that time i deep dived the tag. for when you want to imagine nicky scooping you up in a big warm hug

i found love where it wasn’t supposed to be by imadetheline (1070 words)

Nile has a nightmare. Her family is there for her. And for one another.

late night immortal family dance party. makes you feel like everything is right in the world

at the crossings of two heart lines by mayqueen517 (4239 words)

"You understand - you cannot look back until you both stand beneath the sun."

"I do not need to see my love to know he is there. He is the breath in my lungs and the beat of my heart."

"Very well." ---

A Joe/Nicky twist on the Orpheus/Eurydice myth.

if you thought hadestown made you cry, this’ll wrench you more. happy ending though!! (warnings for death (obv), so much despair and hopelessness)

this lifetime and the next by kirasometimes (6662 words)

Shortly after marrying the love of his life, Nicky dies and his husband disappears.

or: Nicky is newly immortal and Joe has no idea.

a super interesting take. it’s still living in my head two weeks later and i Really need to reread it. (warnings for death, blood, stabbings, canon typical violence i guess. lab capture)

#nickyisnotamouse (and other stories from a happy universe) by lydenicokite (6806 words)

It may be a cliché to say this (“I didn’t want to become famous, it just happened!”), but Nicolò’s youtube career started as a joke. Actually, it started with Yusuf, like all the best things in Nicky’s life.

Nicky is a famous Youtuber, even if most of his fans are more interested in Joe, the elusive cameraman who never appears in front of the camera but flirts with Nicky in every video, than in the actual cooking and book reviewing. #RevealTheHusband and #WhereIsJoe are trending on twitter every time Nicky uploads a new video, but Nicky still believes it's important to keep his life with Joe private. It can't be that difficult, right?

hilarious modern youtuber!nicky au with lots of great interactions between the team and also nicky’s adorable (warning for drinking)

this time with knives by arkada (3588 words)

Joe gets into trouble on a mission.

Nicky gets him back.

badass nicky with knives saves his husband. nile + nicky + joe on a mission. not as angsty as it sounds. (warning for canon typical violence, death (joes dies a good handful), lots of described stabbing and slashing, blood)

even oaks must bend by winteryknights (2631 words)

The sidestreets are dead silent compared to the bustle of downtown, letting both ease and worry simmer in Joe’s bones as they pass only occasional pedestrians on their walk to the address Copley had given them. It’s a small apartment, part of a stonework building that’s likely just as old as Booker himself and a part of Joe wonders if he’d chosen it for the familiarity. A bigger part of him finds that it still hurts to care.

Or,

Andy doesn't have ninety years, but she does have a plan.

they go get booker early. things are sorted out. nicky and joe’s pain is acknowledged and booker is held accountable

ever have i never by nilmiel (525 words)

“Never have I ever had Joe profess his undying love for me to a bunch of people trying to kill us.” Joe had run out to pick up the takeout they’d ordered, and Nile had decided to teach the remaining group of fossils she now called family a new game for while they waited. And if it was a game she was guaranteed to win? Well. That wasn’t on purpose. — A small fic in which Joe loves his family, and the immortal fam love Joe.

i just really like joe waxing poetic about his family

the devil you know by falseconfidence (2254 words)

In which Nile drives the getaway car for the first time and quickly learns that there's a reason why everyone in this family drinks.

where nicky is your annoying dad in the passenger seat and andy slashes the tires of a dickbag and nile is Very Tired (warning for brief canon typical violence, unsafe car practices)

let our moment linger by indiebitch (1466 words)

there was something so lovely about Yusuf being draped across him like this. The rise and fall of his stomach as a reminder that his love, his heart was still breathing. The happy little sighs Joe would let out every once in a while. It just made Nicky so happy he could weep.

or Nicky loving to watch his husband sleep

soft sleepy husbands fluff

i found peace in your violence by incurableromancer (1387 words)

Nile knows that Joe could take apart and reassemble any make or model of gun you put in front of him while blindfolded and probably handcuffed. She knows that he can competently fly more planes and man more ships than Nile has or will see for many, many years to come. She’s heard stories about him defusing bombs and making it home in time for dinner, and yet. He’s still mildly afraid of microwaves, and doesn’t know how to type with his thumbs. Nile has seen him cry at The Notebook, and then cry again hours later while telling Nicky about it.

Or: found family, and moments of happiness, peace and healing between the chaos.

nile and joe hang out!!!

hope these are enough to tide you over!! (and lmk if i missed a link or anything)

#the old guard #immortal family #joe x nicky #andy x quỳnh #nile + nicky #joe + nile #joe + nicky + nile #lad of inbox #ask #long post #fic recs

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pluviophile-bookworm · 3 years

Text

Understanding and acceptance: a short story consisting of things that actually happened

[A/N: I was on the phone with my mum and she told me that I seem to be in a creative mood and that I should write something. I decided to kill two birds with one stone and share a personal story while also writing it as if it’s fiction. So here goes.]

Word count: 2K

-- 2 weeks ago --

It’s a quiet Saturday evening. My brother Max and I are walking home together, deep in conversation. I have no memory of what the conversation had been about when it started, but I do remember that it somehow got to this:

‘...all this assuming you’re straight, of course, and I’m not assuming anything--’

‘What does being straight mean?’ Max says in a tone that tells me he genuinely doesn’t know. So I feel obligated to explain it in the simplest terms possible. ‘Well, in your case it would mean that you, a boy, like girls.’

‘Well, that’s the normal thing for any person!’ He nearly cuts me off with this. I calculate my next step carefully.

‘Not every person,’ I say, keeping my voice as calm as possible. ‘I’m not straight.’ Of course, he knows that. I came out to my whole family at once three years ago, hoping for the awkward discussions to be over with that. It hasn’t worked out quite as I envisioned it yet.

‘Yeah, but you’re not normal either,’ Max parries. Can’t argue with that. Lucky for me, that is when we reach the front door and each one goes off to mind their own business.

I know very well just how ‘not normal’ I am. Not in that cliche ‘I’m not like other girls’ way, but in a way that causes Bulgarians undereducated on mental health and identity labels (which is unfortunately most people over 30) to brand a person clinically insane, unstable, a threat to the Traditional Bulgarian Family™. Being aroace and having severe social anxiety and ADHD to top it off, I hardly classify as ‘normal’. This is a frequent cause for arguments at the dinner table at home, most of which end in a. tears and/ or a panic attack on my part, b. my father storming off and pretending to be asleep whenever someone goes to call him back to dinner, c. my brother gluing himself to his phone, leaving his plate half-untouched, d. my mother crying over ‘what kind of mother am I that I can’t even have my family together at the table once’, and usually e. all of the above.

For this scenario to play out, however, the whole family of four is required to be present. So fortunately it only happens every other weekend when Dad and I come back home from the capital, where we have been living for the better part of three years now, ever since he got promoted and I started uni. When I’m away from my loving but over-controlling mum and my brother, who seemed to become obnoxious overnight the moment he turned 13 a little over a year ago, I usually have significantly fewer reasons to cry or feel anxious about... you name it. So we do fine. For the most part.

-- this evening --

I am watching Joe and Frankie’s performance of A Whole New World for the thousandth time today when I get a text from Mum.

Mum: How’s my girl doing?

Mum: I haven’t been able to hear from you with all the fuss about your brother.

Max is at that point in his education where he’s applying for high schools. His exam results have just come in and now everyone in the family is stressing about whether his scores will be enough to get him into the school he wants to go to. It’s a big deal, but with all the Rodfini magic going on (and with how terribly behind I am on my internship assignment) I have just been completely unable to care.

Speaking of Rodfini and A Whole New World, I have been repressing the instinctive urge to send my mum the video all day, and when I get her texts, I almost nearly muster up the courage to do it. But between me and her, this is not something you do over text. So I give her a ring instead.

When she picks up, the sound of her voice combined with the anxiety over what I want to tell her makes me tear up and the words are stuck in my throat.

‘Erm-- Mum, can I tell you something?’ I say, still not sure if I’m not about to regret taking up the subject at all.

‘Dear, you know you can tell me anything,’ she says, sounding concerned at my obviously-trying-to-swallow-tears voice.

‘You mean it?’ I ask, listening to her tone to make sure. I wish I could read tones better. ‘Anything?’

‘Is something wrong, honey?’ Oh gods, she’s in a really benevolent mood. I grow more and more afraid of ruining that with my ‘obsession with gays’.

‘Erm, so I guess you should know Dad and I had the tiniest disagreement just now,’ I say, deciding last minute to start with something she might deem ‘more relevant to the family’s personal lives’. ‘You know, we were watching the Euros and then the match ended and we watched the news, and then Dad changed the channel so he could watch the next match. And I was like ‘whoa, what’s with the video quality’, and so dad was like ‘you really need go get your eyes checked out’; and I tried to explain that there was a very obvious difference in quality between the two channels, and he kept yelling at me that I was ruining my eyesight spending all day staring at a screen.’

‘Did he sound annoyed or just concerned?’ Mum asks me.

‘I know what you’re thinking. And I know full well that he’s my parent and he’s concerned about my health. But you should have heard his tone.’

‘So are you two in a fight now?’

‘No. Well, I don’t know.’ I really don’t. It’s hard to tell when one side of the argument refuses to talk about his feelings as if that will kill him. But I don’t tell Mum that. She’s been dealing with Dad since long before I was even planned, so she knows him better than I do. ‘The thing is, he called me back and said that, well, one of the channels was HD and the other was not, so there was indeed a difference, but he thought it was ‘unnatural’ that I was able to register it so immediately, and he kept insisting there was something wrong with my eyes. I should think that seeing something quickly would be a sign of good vision, not bad. Besides,’ I keep talking, nearly desperate to justify myself, ‘I did some research and sensitivity to light is a symptom of ADHD. So it’s nothing new, really.’

‘Oh, please, dear. You’re of a new generation, and ADHD is something of the older generation. Don’t be so quick to self-diagnose.’

I guess there’s some reason to what she says, or at least the last part of it, so I give up on pursuing the subject further. ‘Yeah, anyway,’ I say, ‘I just thought it was all a bit rich coming from the man who refuses to wear his prescription glasses. I haven’t got any prescription glasses, you know.’

I don’t want to come off too cheeky because I still want to try and talk to her about how happy Rodfini have made me today. A while ago, Mum would accuse me of only calling her to complain when I was unhappy, so I have since made it a point to call her when I am happy and tell her so. That’s why I’ve been itching to share this with her. And now the time has come.

‘You know, I’ve been crying in a completely different way today,’ I begin tentatively. ‘A good way, A really, really good way,’ I add quickly before she can get worried again.

‘Yeah? So what was it that made you so happy that you cried?’ Goodness, there’s no turning back now. I decide to proceed with caution.

‘Oh, well, it was this performance, you know. A really beautiful song. So I’ve been wanting to show it to you, but I was worried about how you’d react.’

‘And why would that be?’ she asks in the same kind tone that keeps making me anxious about potentially ruining everything.

‘Well, erm...’ I feel myself start to stutter. ‘See, it’s a love song, and it’s... ok, I’ll just say it. It’s sung by two guys. As in, a couple, you see.’ I keep feeling up the ground with my words, anxious to hear her reaction. It’s like when I’m opening an exam result -- I want to know, but I’m too scared to look. And so now, in my anxious despair to know what she thinks about it, I miss the beginning of her response. ‘And I know how you are about those things, so I...’ I genuinely don’t know what to say. I’ve done my thing again. I’ve kept talking so much that she hasn’t even been able to react audibly. So I trail off, determined to let her speak this time.

‘Ok, but... why do you get so affected by those things?’ Mum says, starting to sound suspiciously like she’s about to question my own orientation again. I feel the need to justify myself for the second time since the conversation has started.

‘Well, it’s just that... I really wish you would just see them, Mum. If you could just see how they look at each other, you’d see that there’s just love. So much love. And joy at being able to express themselves as they are.’

I’m speaking from the heart now. I am finally letting out how much I want her to give them a chance because she deserves to see and hear their magical performance. She must be sensing the anguished sincerity in my voice as I finally manage to stop crying and I smile through the tears, because she says, ‘Dear, are you... are you trying to tell me something there?’

I sigh. She’s asked me this question nearly every time I’ve started speaking ‘too’ passionately about anything LGBTQ+ Which isn’t an awful lot in her presence, but there have been several occasions. Once about Solangelo, at the beach. Once about NPH and his husband David and their children, at the dinner table, as I was trying to explain how same-sex couples can have kids; that one resulted in a seriously bad scene of the type I described earlier. Once about a participant in a reality show who identified as a gay man then, but has recently come out as a trans woman; whenever she’s been mentioned on television, I’ve fought to repress my inner urge to express my happiness for her and the representation she is for the Bulgarian LGBTQ+ community. I wonder even now if my parents have noticed my silence on the subject -- because they certainly do notice when I am not silent.

So now, when the time seems to have come for me to set things straight about my non-straight-ness (bad pun very much intended), I try my best to keep my voice from shaking. ‘I’m not trying to tell you anything I haven’t already told you, Mum. Really.’

‘Are you perhaps attracted to the same gender, dear?’ It seems so unbelievable that she’s said it, and even more that she’s worded like that, but she really has. I force myself to be calm and patient.

‘No, Mum. I’ve told you -- I am not attracted to any gender, be it male, female or anything else, really. You know that.’

‘Well, it sounded as if you--’

‘No, Mum. Really. But I do need you to understand that part of my identity is that I feel the need to support people with other identities different from straight. I’m happy for their successes. I'm concerned about their issues. They’re a sort of family to me. Do you understand that?’ I say, relieved to be speaking my truth at last. At the same time, I try to sound as reasonable and mature about the whole thing as possible. I don’t want to put her off, especially not now that I’m knee-deep in the subject already. I’ve gone too far to turn back now.

‘Yes, honey. Yes, I do. I just don’t want you to exert yourself emotionally, is all. Plus I’ve been so stressed out about your brother and all, you know...’

‘Yeah, I do know. And I know he’ll be fine. He’s a nice boy. I just wished he didn’t keep calling me ‘abnormal’ all the time...’

‘Oh, well, don’t listen to him. He’s been quite stressed out too. And he’s 14. It’s just how he is at this age.’

I’m not too sure about that. ‘Boys will be boys’. It’s ok for boys, then, to pour salt into their neurodivergent sisters’ wounds? I don’t think so. But I can’t fix every problem in one talk. Plus my mum sounds tired now.

So I just say, ‘I guess... Well, anyway, thank you so much, Mum. For hearing me out, and for supporting me, and for everything else. Please don’t worry so much.’

But I know she can’t not worry at all. I’ve got that from her.

‘If you’re sure you’re all ok now, dear...’

‘Yeah, mum, I am. Or I will be. You know, there’s this expression with English, ‘to run with something’. So I’ve been telling myself, I’ll at least try to walk with things. You know I’m not much of a runner anyway.’ I actually laugh, even though the pun is quite untranslatable into Bulgarian.

‘You know I’m proud of you, right?’

I know that has very little to do with the kind of pride I’ve been celebrating all month, but I say, ‘Of course I do. And you know what? I’m quite proud of myself, too.’ I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I mean it. I mean it wholeheartedly this time.

‘I’m nearly falling asleep, though, dear, so I say we call it a night?’

‘Good night, Mummy. And thanks.’

I hang up. Then I forward the video to her.

I’ve come so far, indeed. I reckon we both have.

#writing #personal #asexual #aromantic #lgbtq+#jnk #rodfini #frankie rodriguez #joe serafini #solangelo #hoo #neil patrick harris #family #family dynamics #found family #pride month #adhd #long post

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westallenfun · 3 years

Text

Two's Company (2/3)

Westallen secret santa gift

For: Lauren (@backtothestart02) (Happy holidays! I hope you like this fic!)

From: Lina (@cheryls-blossomed)

A/N: A special thank you to my beta, Caroline (@ginandweas).

Inspired by Jane Austen’s Emma and the blissfulness and hardship of tumbling into true love. On the eve of publication of the most important article of her professional career thus far, Iris West realizes that she is head over heels in love with her best friend Barry, but she grapples with revealing her feelings, for fear of ruining their friendship. But a weekend trip to Metropolis sets in motion a series of events, romantic mishaps and conundrums abound, that may force Barry and Iris to face some long-awaited, romantic truths.

Rating T (Warnings: Mild Language)

The mirror in the bathroom is foggy from the steam of the shower, and as Iris traces circles on its surface to clear the mistiness, she feels more relaxed than she has in days. The hot shower was exactly what she needed, and perhaps this impromptu vacation is a blessing in disguise, for she knows she had been overworked and overtired the past few weeks as she agonized over the research for the McCulloch Tech exposé. Even now, the article is not far from her mind, and the last few days have been hectic: Carver had immediately filed a defamation lawsuit on Tuesday, and Iris had had Cynthia file a response on Wednesday. Meanwhile, the public response to the exposé had been overwhelmingly positive, with Iris and Kamilla already being praised for their meticulousness in investigative reporting, and the news world is currently buzzing with anticipation about the long-term ramifications of the piece. Iris hopes that truth will ensure that justice will be done.

As Iris contemplates truth and justice, she steps out of the bathroom and sees the two cocktail dresses that she had laid out for tonight: a red, shimmery number and a lacy, black fitted dress that comes half-way down her thighs. The fact that she is attending a party tonight comes as a bit of a surprise.

When Iris, Barry, Cisco, and Cynthia had arrived at The Time Metropolis, they had been checked in rapidly and told that Eddie Thawne had invited them to a cabaret performance that night.

“Mr. Thawne is sorry to have missed you, as he is in meetings this afternoon, but he has asked us to invite you to our Friday night cabaret at the Trajectory Club on our terrace. He has told us that he will meet you there and hopes that you will join, even though the invitation is last minute,” a lady at the concierge informed them

“Sweet!” Cisco had exclaimed, but Barry and Cynthia had seemed far less enthused at the prospect of having to attend a cabaret and socialize that very night. While Iris had been somewhat surprised at the invitation, especially because her father and Cecile are only arriving tomorrow for the gala, the concierge had confirmed that this was a night for the young people invited to tomorrow’s gala. Iris found this odd, given the fact that this weekend was meant to celebrate her dad and Cecile. Still, not wanting to be rude, given the effort Eddie seemed to be putting into this weekend, Iris had accepted. She had privately told Barry, Cynthia, and Cisco that if they did not want to attend, they didn’t have to.

“It’s fine,” Cynthia had responded. “While I would have been perfectly fine binge-watching Netflix, I’m not going to leave you without a wing-woman.”

“I need no convincing,” Cisco had said. Barry, who had gone very quiet up until that point, agreed to come, albeit very reluctantly,

“I have no idea why this guy would plan an event tonight when Joe and Cecile won’t even be here to attend. But since we’re invited, I guess we should go.”

Thus, Iris finds herself having to prepare for an unexpected night at the hotel’s terrace club. The red, shimmery dress is a favorite, but it’s for very specific occasions, and unsure what the atmosphere will be tonight, Iris figures that the lacy, black dress is the safer option, and she picks out the eye shadow and earrings that would best suit the dress. As she adorns herself with her garnet, dangling earrings, she hears a knock at her hotel room door.

“Just a minute!” she calls, as she adds the soft backs to her earrings. Upon opening her door, she is greeted by the sight of Barry in a dark shirt and jeans, holding a small, red bag. “Bear,” she smiles, just as he says,

“Iris.” And he’s looking at her, wide-eyed and apparently speechless, and Iris feels both stunning and powerful under his gaze. They’re staring at each other, neither saying a word, and Iris wonders who might speak first, but she does not have to wait long, because Barry shakes his head quickly, relieving some of the intensity, and smiles, “You look absolutely beautiful.” (And when he says that to her, so unassumingly, Iris is absolutely sure that she would love to run through a field of daisies and into Barry’s arms right about now, but she manages to compose herself.)

“Thanks, Barry. You look good, yourself.” She lets him into her room and shuts the door. “You’re early. I thought we were meeting by the elevator at ten to eight.”

“Yeah, we are… we were, but I have something for you,” he says, holding up the red bag. “I wasn’t able to give this to you on Tuesday, and then there was all the craziness of this last minute trip, and I know you’ve noticed that I’ve been preoccupied lately, which I am sorry about, by the way, and I know you definitely deserve an explanation.”

“Bear, you don’t need to apologize. Or explain.”

“No, I really do. And I want you to know that I’m glad we’re here. I really am. I kept telling you you needed a vacation, and I stand by that, and I want this weekend to be absolutely great for you.”

“Well,” Iris says. “You’re with me, aren’t you? So it’s bound to be a pretty great weekend, no matter what else happens.” Barry chuckles, but there’s a forlornness to his laugh.

“So, I got this for you. For your incredible journalistic achievements and for all your successes that I know you’re going to have in the future as the greatest journalist this world has ever known.”

“Barry, you shouldn’t have,” Iris whispers, overcome with emotion, as she takes the bag from Barry and finds a small black, velvet box, which she removes from the bag, carefully. Setting the bag on the bed, she opens the box, revealing a white gold wedding band set on a delicate chain. Iris takes a deep breath as she realizes what she is looking at: the wedding band is the same as her mother, Francine’s, wedding band. Or rather it’s a perfect replica, for her mother’s wedding band was misplaced when her father sold their old home after Francine had passed away, and Iris had been distraught then. But here, in her hands, is a stunning replica of the wedding band, and she cannot imagine the trouble Barry must have taken to have the band replicated perfectly, especially because he did not have the original. “Mama’s wedding band,” Iris starts, but is unable to continue, tears spilling from her eyes. She feels Barry’s thumbs underneath her eyes, brushing away her tears, and Iris looks up and sees him watching her with such ineffable tenderness that she is unable to hold his gaze for too long, bashfully looking down at her toes.

“I remember when this wedding band was misplaced in the move between houses, and I remember how devastated you were, because that was one of the few tangible things you had of your mom. I asked Joe if he had a photo that clearly shows your mom’s wedding band, and luckily he had one, and so I took it to the jewelers, and they were able to replicate it perfectly. I know it can’t compare to the original but…”

“It’s perfect, Barry. I don’t even know what to say. That you remembered, that you took so much time to give this to me… I… I can’t even tell you what this means to me. I’ve waited so many years to have some closure, and I just…” Iris’s voice breaks, and Barry pulls her to him, cradling her head against his chest. “…Thank you, Bear,” she says, softly. Silence descends upon them, and Iris feels Barry’s hands slip to her waist, and she shivers, lifting her head slightly to look up at him, and his gaze is… so loving, so reverent. One hand remaining on her waist, he reaches his other hand down to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, and his touch lingers on her cheek, caressing the skin just below her earlobe. And she’s not sure which one of them moves first, but she feels this invisible pull, pushing her up to her tip-toes as Barry bends his head towards hers, his hand gently tilting her chin upward, and their lips are just inches apart, and Iris cannot possibly rationalize what is about to happen, but her heart is racing, and all she feels is longing and desire and love.

But there’s a loud knock on her door, and Cynthia is yelling,

“Iris, where are you? We need to get going.”

The moment evaporates, and Iris is flooded with disappointment, as Barry’s hands fall to his side. She can’t quite gauge his expression, as he’s not looking at her, but towards the door, rather pensively. It frustrates her that she is unable to determine what he’s thinking now, when usually he’s an open book to her.

“We should go, yeah?” Iris asks, as she puts the necklace on, and Barry nods, still not meeting her eye.

“Yeah,” he whispers, hoarsely, following her to the door. Cynthia is impatient when Iris opens the door, but when she sees Barry, her eyes widen, and she gives Iris a desperate look, which Iris figures is meant to be apologetic. As they head to the elevators, where Cisco is waiting, Iris in any other situation may have been left to wonder if yet another person to whom she is close is aware of how she feels about Barry, but instead she cannot quite believe that she and Barry had been about to kiss and what this could possibly mean. Did Barry feel the same way she did? He had to, right? People don’t nearly kiss people they don’t have feelings for. Iris’s mind is reeling with the possibilities of Barry reciprocating her feelings, but a betraying voice in her head reminds her: What if this is all too good to be true? And just like that, she feels sick to her stomach.

The Trajectory Club on the rooftop terrace of the Time Metropolis is a sight to behold, with its sleek architectural finish of black marble and its incredible views of Metropolis. High tables of black marble and ivory cushioned stools circle the perimeter of the club, and a dance floor is at the center of the terrace, although nobody is currently occupying it. There are several microphones, however, no doubt for the upcoming cabaret performance, and servers are providing beverages and finger foods to customers.

“This is noice,” Cisco remarks. “It’s a good thing you invited me to this shindig, Barry.”

“Anytime, man, although you should be thanking Iris,” Barry chuckles.

“Thanks, Iris.” Iris nods at Cisco with a smile, but she’s so preoccupied that she can barely concentrate on the conversation; indeed, it’s certainly atmospherically a very nice club, but Iris finds herself hardly enjoying that fact, and unlike Cisco, she’s dreading the night out. Cynthia nudges her side and asks in a low voice,

“What’s wrong?” Iris opens her mouth to answer, but sees Eddie Thawne headed in their direction with a suspiciously familiar woman and mouths,

“Later,” to Cynthia, who, in response, fixates Iris with a look that conveys that this is a conversation that they absolutely will be having at some point in the near future.

“Iris West,” Eddie exclaims when he is close enough, wrapping Iris in a hug, which startles Iris, as she and Eddie are acquaintances at best. She returns his hug, politely, but from the corner of her eye, she sees Barry tense and that agitated energy that he’d been carrying with him for days is now particularly palpable. “Good to see you again. Thank you so much for coming.”

“Eddie, hi. Thanks for inviting us. I’m sorry that Wally and Linda couldn’t make it,” Iris responds, quickly extricating herself from Eddie’s embrace and crossing her arms over her chest. “These are my friends: Barry, whom you’ve met before, and Cynthia, and Cisco.”

“Nice to meet all of you. Good to see you again, Barry.”

“Likewise,” Barry responds tightly, and when they shake hands, it feels distinctly unfriendly, which confuses Iris, because she’s sure Barry and Eddie have met only once before, and they had been cordial with one another at the time.

“Thanks for inviting us all out here,” Cisco then interjects, and the tension seemingly dissipates, as Eddie and Cisco shake hands, and then Cynthia and Eddie exchange pleasantries.

The woman accompanying Eddie steps out from behind him, and Iris is shocked, for she has met her before, which would, she figures, explain why the woman had looked so familiar from a distance.

“Patty?” Iris queries, and Patty smiles brightly,

“Hi, Iris! Wow, I didn’t realize you and Barry were Eddie’s friends. Small world.”

“You two know each other?” Eddie asks, although his tone suggests that he’s not actually interested in the story behind that, more that he’s inquiring perfunctorily.

“Not exactly, but I ran into Iris and Barry on a line at a coffee shop in Central City. Iris was nice enough to entertain my rambling.”

“Not at all. I enjoyed our brief, random conversation. Strangers on a queue waiting for morning coffee? There are always good stories to be had there,” Iris responds, and Patty smiles gratefully at her.

“So how do you two know each other?” Barry asks.

“Oh, Patty and I are old friends. We went to MetU together. Figured she could use a break from studying for her masters, so I invited her here for the weekend,” Eddie explains quickly. “Anyways, shall we? I have a table for six back there.” The group moves away from the entrance, and Iris sees that the table in question is a bit larger than the rest. Like all the tables in the club, it is made completely of black marble with a sun-burst design adorning the center.

As they take their seats, Iris finds herself sitting in between Barry and Patty, with Eddie on Patty’s right, Cisco on Barry’s left, and Cynthia between Cisco and Eddie. Cisco and Cynthia start chatting the moment they get settled, still arguing (rather flirtatiously… and Iris is impressed at how flirtatious they have managed to make patents) about whether or not Cisco should strengthen his future patent, and while Iris is unsure how long they can keep discussing that, they also seem very engrossed in this conversation. Barry nudges Iris’s elbow with his own gently, and she turns to him, and upon seeing his rather conspiratorial grin, she smiles back immediately. Simultaneously, though, Iris can’t help but wonder if Barry hopes to return to the status quo with her.

Would he pretend they hadn’t just nearly kissed? The trouble is, if he planned on not acknowledging the elephant in the room, Iris is unsure if she too can just pretend it didn’t happen. Still, she is aware that they are in public, and this is hardly the place to discuss almost kisses.

“We knew they’d hit it off,” Barry says. “But I don’t think we realized just how well they’d hit it off, especially considering their topic of choice is patents.”

“They’ve made patents flirty, which I think is a feat that we can’t take credit for. Or maybe we can, tangentially,” Iris teases. “But we definitely can take credit for the secret ingenuity of getting them to meet.”

“You know, I think Linda might have been onto something about that match-making side hustle, after all.” Iris raises her eyebrows, jestingly,

“Change of heart, already? Because I have this distinct memory of you saying that you thought match-making was a bad business to get into.”

“Well, that was when Linda was suggesting it as a solo side hustle for you. But I think if you and I went into business together, this could be quite fun.”

“Perhaps. But what would we call our match-making company?”

“Hmmm, how about West-Allen Matchmakers, Incorporated? Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“If this were truly a thing, I would reluctantly acquiesce, only because you and I are kind of a dream team.”

“You and I are the dream team,” Barry corrects emphatically, and he’s smiling widely at her and refusing to break their gaze, and she thinks…. she thinks he too must be feeling this intensity that has persistently lingered between them since their almost kiss, and she wonders for just a moment that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way. Her hand comes to rest on the wedding band, just above the bodice of her cocktail dress, and his eyes track the movement, first tracking her neck, then her collar bones, and then the dip of her cleavage which disappears beneath her dress. She thinks she sees his tongue dart out momentarily over his lips, and she feels hot, suddenly, and she’s sure it has nothing to do with the warm, summer night.

In the end, it’s Patty who interrupts, when she says,

“You know, when I first saw the two of you, despite you saying, Iris, that that gift basket which I presume was for Barry was just for a friend, I could have sworn you two were together.” Barry and Iris are both startled by the reminder that they are not alone, and Iris recovers more quickly and replies with a smile,

“We’ve been best friends for ages.”

“I guess that explains it, then,” Patty observes, although she doesn’t sound entirely convinced.

“Explains what?”

“How the two of you are in your own world together. You didn’t notice, because you were so focused on each other just now, but it’s like it was just the two of you in this world and no one else exists.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Sometimes we get so carried away in our conversations.”

“Yeah,” Barry adds quickly. “You’ll have to forgive us. It’s easy to just get caught up…”

“No, no, please don’t apologize,” Patty laughs, waving off their apologies. “It’s nice, is what I’m trying to say, but as usual, I’m having trouble putting it to words. You both clearly have such a deep connection, and it’s rare to see that. Rare, but nice.” Iris is unsure of how to respond to that, and it seems Barry is equally at a loss for words, but it doesn’t seem to faze Patty, as she continues on, “You know, it’s funny, because Eddie’s family and my family really want us to get married, and we’ve been friends for so, so long, and you know, I joke…,” and here Patty seems slightly less chipper, so Iris wonders if she actually is joking… “That maybe we should just bite the bullet and get hitched, but Eddie thinks it’s a terrible idea.”

“I don’t know if it’s a terrible idea, but I do know that we don’t have feelings for each other,” Eddie responds gruffly, clearly taking offense to what Iris thinks is a rather innocuous conversation. “Our families do want us to get married, and it’s complicated, because we want to oblige our parents, so we often show up to things, like tomorrow’s gala, together for show.” Iris ponders Eddie’s bitter tone, observing that it never ends well when families try to pressure their children into romantic entanglements that are good for business and image. And while she cannot blame Eddie for his anger, she also notices Patty’s expression, and it’s wistfully sad, and Iris realizes then that while Eddie may not have any romantic inclinations towards Patty, Patty does towards him.

So, evidently, she is not the only one dealing with romantic conundrums.

“Barry, Iris, you both know Katie Rogers, right?” Eddie asks, abruptly changing course, and Iris is now completely perplexed, because how in the world did Eddie Thawne know Katie Rogers, who was an old school friend of both Barry and Iris’s, and why was he even asking about her in the first place? Iris had mostly lost touch with Katie after she’d left Central City to join the Gotham City Ballet as a principal ballerina, but Barry had mentioned a couple of weeks ago that he and Katie had recently reconnected.

“We do. We used to go to school together,” Barry replies. “I actually tutor her cousin in organic chemistry, and we know her grandmother, Annette Rogers, quite well.”

“Yes, Katie mentioned to me that she had met you again recently, Barry, at her grandmother’s. She was in town not long ago visiting her family.” Barry nods, but Iris notices Eddie appraising Barry carefully, which is yet another mystery she is itching to solve, because these two seem to really dislike each other, and their sheer distaste for one another makes no sense at all, really, given that they hardly know each other.

“And how do you know Katie?” Iris inquires, immediately in reporter mode, for if she can’t deal with her feelings right now, she can surely get to the bottom of this rather puzzling interpersonal revelation.

“Katie and I met when she danced for the Gotham City Ballet, before she left for the Metropolis Ballet Theater. I was attending the Swan Lake, and she was dancing as Odette and Odile, and I was enchanted, so I waited by her exit point… perks of knowing the theater owner, and I introduced myself. Now, we’re good friends. She actually now performs at the cabaret here.”

“Excuse me?” Barry says, his brow furrowing, just as Iris seeks clarification by asking,

“Katie dances at the club at your hotel?”

Eddie shrugs nonchalantly in response, as if what he’d just proclaimed made perfect sense, before replying,

“Once in a while, when I beg her. She’s such an exquisite dancer, and we’re old friends, plus she lives in Metropolis now, so every now and then I ask her if she’ll perform at Trajectory.” Iris takes note of Eddie’s emotional tone when he claims that he has to beg Katie to dance at the club, which is so different from his usual mild-mannered disposition; indeed, there is just something about this whole situation that simply does not add up. Maybe it’s the sheer coincidence of it all (and this is the second massive coincidence, the first one being Patty showing up here after Iris’s chance meeting with her on the line at Jitters), but there is something rather unusual about Eddie and Katie’s acquaintanceship. “In fact,” Eddie continues, as Iris scrutinizes him carefully. “She’s dancing here tonight. That’s why I asked about her. In fact, she should be on any minute now.”

“What?” Iris asks sharply, and she notices Barry’s whole demeanor shift from semi-relaxed to overtly alert beside her, but before she can press Eddie about this particular revelation, the lights on the terrace dim, and sultry musical instrumentals fill the speakers of the club. The dance floor lights up, and five dancers appear, performing a rather unexciting number, Iris notes, but despite the choreography, the dancers are still very talented. The principal performer is taller than the rest, and her hair is in a Dutch braid, unlike the high buns on the other dancers, and Iris recognizes her, for she is Katie Rogers. Given how dull the choreography is, Iris is surprised Katie had agreed to perform at Trajectory, because she is clearly quite an impressive dancer, and this cabaret performance seems to be an inadequate display of her skills. The dancers are soon joined by singers, whose styles range from operatic to pop, and the spectacle is most certainly haphazard, but enjoyable enough.

At the end of the cabaret, Iris joins her fellow audience members in polite applause, although some people are emphatically cheering and whistling, and she wonders if they too are putting on a performance. Beside her, Barry seems guarded, his applause perfunctory, and he’s keeping an eye on Eddie instead of the performers, while Eddie is smiling widely at Katie, as the lights return to the rooftop terrace. As Iris’s eyes adjust to the new lighting, she notices that Katie is resolutely avoiding Eddie’s gaze (or perhaps she has not noticed him grinning like he just won the lottery, although that seems unlikely), and instead she’s focusing her attention elsewhere, just a few feet away from Eddie, and in Barry and Iris’s vicinity.

“Barry!” Katie suddenly shrieks, and before Iris can turn questioningly to her best friend, Katie brushes past her, and flings herself into Barry’s arms, before he is even fully off of his feet. Already unbalanced, therefore, with the force of Katie against him, Barry topples backwards slightly, grabbing the edge of the table in an attempt to steady himself, while holding her with one arm. Not quite able to catch his balance, though, he nearly falls backwards onto Cisco, who steadies him with both hands.

“Careful, man,” Cisco warns with a bemused grin, before glancing at Iris questioningly, but Iris simply shrugs, as she, herself, is equally confused. The night, it would seem, keeps getting progressively more bizarre.

Though, Cynthia, for her part, is staring daggers at Katie.

“Sorry,” Barry says, hastily, over his shoulder towards Cisco, before he turns his attention to Katie. “Katie, hi.”

“Barry, it’s so good to see you,” Katie laughs, backing away slightly, her hands lingering on his chest. “I was told you were going to be here, and I had been meaning to call you, because we had had such a good time at dinner two weeks ago… thanks for that amazing dinner at Marano’s, by the way, I definitely needed that, but when I heard you’d be here, I thought what a funny coincidence.”

“Yeah… great to see you too… your performance out there was great,” Barry replies, haltingly, still evidently reeling from Katie’s exuberant greeting, before nodding towards Iris, “Iris is here as well.” Katie swivels around and smiles tightly at Iris,

“Hi, Iris. Gosh, it’s been how long? How are you?”

“It has been a very long time. I’m doing well, Katie, how are you?” Iris responds, warmly, although her mind is working in overdrive, after having witnessed both Katie’s reaction to seeing Barry and the confession that they had had dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant two weeks ago.

It couldn’t possibly be, could it?

“I’m great. Thank you for coming. Eddie mentioned that your father got married to his godmother, recently. And that Wally has a baby on the way. Time flies.” At the mention of his name, Eddie’s gaze darkens, and he’s regarding Katie almost angrily, at this point, but she still refuses to even look at him.

What the hell is going on here?

On the one hand, Iris is sure that she does not want to know anything more than she absolutely has to about Katie Rogers or about Eddie Thawne, for that matter, but on the other hand, her investigative reporter instincts were getting the better of her. Or, as Barry frequently says when she gets excited about a potential story, her ‘Spidey’ senses were tingling.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t think I know the rest of the you. I’m Katie Rogers,” Katie carries on, oblivious to Eddie’s haughty gaze, and Cisco introduces himself, cordially, while Cynthia is curt and makes it a point not to shake Katie’s hand. Patty and Katie, who have met before, do not seem particularly friendly with one another, but they exchange perfunctory greetings nonetheless. Notably, Katie fails to acknowledge Eddie at all, which seems to confuse everyone, but nobody is willing to pry. “Anyways, Barry,” Katie continues, turning back to Barry. “It’s wonderful to see you. I really had a great time at dinner and was hoping we would see each other soon. There’s so much we have to catch up on, and hopefully I can wrangle one or maybe more dinners out of you.”

“Right,” Barry replies, and he is distinctly uncomfortable, but then Katie reaches up and cups his face, and the atmosphere amongst the group shifts immediately. Barry immediately extricates himself from her grasp, removing her hands from his face, and taking a step back, and somehow manages to make the whole act look polite, but Eddie is seething at this point, Patty looks utterly confused, and Cynthia appears to be about one step away from bringing litigious action against Katie Rogers. But Iris can barely concentrate on anyone else, for her heart is pounding in her chest.

“Sometimes something incredible is right in front of you, and you just have to tell yourself it’s time to throw caution to the wind. A matchmaker can’t tell you that, only you can know that.”

Because Iris remembers, clear as day, what Barry had said at her dad and Cecile’s wedding reception almost a week ago. And ever since, she has been forced to contend with the fact that Barry might potentially be in love with someone, just as she was simultaneously realizing the extent of how deeply in love she is with him. To receive confirmation that Barry’s heart is with another, though, is what she had been absolutely dreading, but nothing could prepare her for the feeling of gut-wrenching heartbreak. It is as if her heart is made of glass that shatters all at once at the realization that Barry and Katie must have gone on a date (because Marano’s is surely not a place that friends who just met up again after many years go to for dinner), and Katie must have been the person Barry was thinking of on Saturday. The timeline makes sense.

Barry’s reaction to seeing Katie is, however, confusing, for he seems very unenthused at the moment, but Iris is also aware that Barry is extremely polite and dislikes undue attention, so he merely could be uncomfortable by how exuberant Katie is around him, and furthermore, he likely wanted to tell Iris, himself. Barry would not have wanted her to find out he’s dating someone randomly by chance at a club, of that Iris is sure.

The only piece of the puzzle that does not fit with the rest is the fact that Barry had been about to kiss her just a few hours ago. That seems so far removed from anything that Barry would ever do, when he is in love with someone else, especially because Iris knows how caring and respectful Barry is, but maybe she had misread the situation. After all, they had not actually kissed, as Cynthia had interrupted them, and perhaps, Barry was going to hug her instead. But at the same time, she could have sworn he was staring at her lips in the moments leading up to their near kiss.

Iris closes her eyes, momentarily, attempting to find some equilibrium in order to carry on for the rest of the evening, but a wave of exhaustion washes over her, and she knows she has to leave. She cannot continue to dignify this ridiculous night with a plastered smile and false cordiality, but she also refuses to ruin Barry’s night or anyone else’s.

“Iris? Iris?” a soft voice calls out, accompanied by two gentle hands on her bare arms, and Iris knows that voice as well as she knows her own, and of course Barry is already worrying about her, but she also cannot stand to see his concern. Nonetheless, this is a hurdle she must overcome, so she blinks open her eyes to meet his concerned gaze. “Are you alright?” From her periphery, she can see everyone else watching her as well, so she musters up her remaining strength and smiles,

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Look, guys, I’m sorry, I’m just feeling a bit tired, so I’m going to head back to my room, if that’s okay?” Eddie and Patty mention that they hope that she feels better, asking if she needs anything, a query that she politely waves off, while Cisco and Cynthia appear very worried, moving closer towards her, but it’s Barry who is going to be the most difficult to shake off, for he pointedly refuses to leave her side.

“I’ll come with you,” he says, reaching for her hand, but she moves away from him slightly, and when she sees his confusion, she feels terrible, because the last thing she wants to do is give him the impression that she is mad at him, but truthfully she is as angry as she is heartbroken (because she knows they were having a moment earlier in her hotel room, no matter how much she tries to rationalize otherwise… he gifted her a wedding band, for god’s sake), and regardless, she needs space from him, because every time she looks at him, she is reminded of her shattered heart.

“No, Bear, you should stay. Don’t leave on my account, besides don’t you want to catch up with Katie?” That last part comes out with more acidity than she intended, and Barry’s eyes widen,

“Iris, no, you’ve—”

“I’m sorry, Barry. Honestly, all the traveling today is probably just catching up with me. Anyways, I want to give Kamilla a call to make sure there are no new developments from Carver’s end, and I don’t want to be calling her too late, you know? I’ll be fine.”

“Iris, please let me come with you. We need to talk,” Barry sounds desperate at this point, and Iris just cannot take it anymore, for she absolutely cannot stand the thought of listening to him tell her about why he didn’t mention the extent that he had reconnected with Katie before, and so she shakes her head firmly,

“No, really, Barry…”

“I’m coming with you,” Cynthia interjects, for she clearly has no remaining patience listening to this back and forth, and before Iris can protest, Cynthia steers her away from everyone else. When Iris glances over her shoulder, a few moments later, Barry and Cisco have already drifted away from the group, heads bowed closely, and appear to be engaging in a very serious discussion, judging by their solemn expressions.

“Hey, Iris, wait up!” Eddie calls out, and Iris reluctantly turns around, forcing a polite smile on her face, when all she wants to do is scream that she would like to be left alone. “Sorry, I won’t keep you long, but I just wanted to say thank you for coming.”

“Of course. Thank you for planning such a lovely night,” Iris lies, for she had had a, quite frankly, terrible night, but that was hardly Eddie’s fault, and he had gone to all this trouble to invite them for what he’d planned to be a nice outing. Before she can turn back, though, he wraps her in a quick, unexpected hug, which she awkwardly returns, patting his back uncertainly.

“Really, Iris. I truly appreciate you attending,” he says, with a smile, and she nods, trying her best to maintain a façade of politeness,

“Thank you for inviting me. All of us, for that matter.” They exchange goodbyes, and as Eddie heads back to the group, Iris sees Barry watching her, looking utterly forlorn and dejected and like his whole world has come crashing down around him, and she thinks… god why is he looking at me like that… for surely he can see the heartbreak in her eyes, but then Cisco nudges him, forcefully, and shakes his head firmly when Barry turns to him.

Cynthia then takes Iris’s hand in her own, before motioning towards the doorway back into the hotel, and Iris nods, and the two make their way out of the club together. In that moment, Iris thinks that the best decision she made was inviting Cynthia to Metropolis, because she cannot imagine surviving this nightmarish weekend without her.

For a few blissful moments when Iris awakes the next morning, the debacle that was last night, culminating in the sort of agonizing heartbreak that she had only previously believed existed in romantic literature, is simply a hazy, improbable dream, but as soon as she becomes aware of where she is, namely in her hotel room at the Time Metropolis, the events of last night come crashing back, like wave after wave upon a shore. Iris groans, tugging a pillow over her face, her head pounding from the onslaught of emotions, and even though she had had one Martini last night, she now figures that having just one was a mistake, and she ought to have taken full advantage of the fact that she was at a club, given how the night turned out.

She reaches for her phone and sees that the time is just after 6:30 AM, which means that she has a couple of hours before she has to decide whether she can make the trudge down to the dreaded breakfast hall. The thought of having to plaster a smile on her face, in order to curate a false sense of normalcy, and converse with people is utterly nauseating. Plus, she knows full well that Barry might be waiting anxiously to speak with her, and she just cannot face him, not when seeing him would surely reinforce both her heartbreak and anger tenfold. And yet, she also cannot shake how profoundly she loves him. Even just thinking about potentially seeing Barry at the breakfast hall, Iris is reminded of how deeply he is and always has been intertwined with her very soul; there are very few moments in her life that she can recall that do not involve Barry in some capacity. For in her most pivotal memories, Barry has always played a role, at least tangentially, and she realizes then that their relationship has been complicated for years, the two of them constantly hovering on the precipice of romantic love and walking, hand in hand, on a precarious tightrope between the safety of friendship and the unknown expanse of unexplored feelings.

She recalls nights spent at bowling alleys, where they were playfully competitive, but still never failing to cheer loudly when the other got a strike or a spare. She remembers wiping remnants of ketchup from Barry’s lips, after he’d eaten more than three-quarters of the fries that they would order at Big Belly Burger, the local Central City burger joint, with her fingers. Then, there were those times when he was stressing over his application for the Wells Scholarship for Excellence in Science to fund his DSc, and she would bring over an inordinate amount of baked goods and cheesy films. He’d mumble, sleepily, after they’d worked through all of the sweets and watched at least three movies, about how absolutely amazing she is.

One of her most telling memories is from her twenty-fifth birthday party, which had been an elaborate surprise that Barry had shockingly manage to pull off, even despite Linda’s usual tendency to tell Iris literally everything, surprise birthday parties notwithstanding. Barry had hosted the party in his old one-bedroom apartment, and there were some thirty people who attended, but lack of square footage aside, he had managed somehow to get Bette Sans Souci, a former high school classmate of theirs, now celebrity chef extraordinaire, to cater for the party. Bette had allegedly told him, “Only because it’s for Iris,” when she’d agreed to cater the event, although Iris still suspects Barry is exaggerating a bit whenever he retells this story, but she appreciates the sentiment all the same. When Iris had arrived at Barry’s, fully expecting to enjoy a quiet night comprising of takeout and a movie, she had been genuinely shocked when she was instead greeted by thirty of her friends screaming, “Happy Birthday!” Barry had snapped a photo of her face, claiming that her look of sheer joy was beautifully priceless. Towards the end of the party, Iris had managed to steal a moment alone with Barry, when she’d found him standing by himself, gazing out of his kitchen window.

“What are you thinking about?” Iris asks, approaching him slowly. Barry smiles when he sees her, holding out his hand to her, which she takes. He interlaces their fingers.

“You,” he says, simply, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “More specifically, I’m hoping that you had a good night, because nobody is more deserving of the world’s best party than you, Iris. Not that this is the world’s best party, because honestly, I mean, this small apartment? I think it’s too crammed for the number of people I invited, right? And I’m pretty sure the paint’s coming off the walls in a couple of these rooms, no… I know it is, but I’m glad Bette was able to cater, because that might be the saving grace here, and honestly I’m starting to think I should have hosted it somewhere else…”

“Barry,” Iris interrupts, placing a hand on his cheek. At the feel of her hand against his cheek, he immediately ceases talking and swallows very slowly. “This is the world’s best party. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have a best friend who plans this for her. I couldn’t have asked for a better night, and the party is amazing, but it’s not the party that I’m lucky to have, Bear. It’s you.” He looks down for a moment, before surging forward, leaning his forehead gently against hers, and she gasps at the sudden movement, but quickly relaxes, savoring the intimacy of their embrace.

“Iris,” Barry whispers. “Do you even know how much I…,” he pauses, for a moment, measuring, perhaps, the magnitude of his words carefully, “…how much I care about you?”

“I think so,” she laughs softly, hoping to diffuse some of the tension that has built up between them. “I hope so.”

“No…,” he sighs. “No, I don’t know if you do, and I don’t… god, it’s my fault, because if I had just… I don’t even know where to begin now.”

“Hey,” Iris says soothingly, framing his face with her hands. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, Bear.” He nods against her forehead, closing his eyes, and they stay like that for a few moments, before Wally races over, seemingly oblivious to Barry and Iris being wrapped up in their own world and apparently in need of Iris’s advice about asking Linda out on a second date.

This memory is particularly painful for Iris, as she wonders what Barry was struggling to tell her that night by the window. She dares not hope that he was attempting to convey that his feelings for her were something more than just friendship, because hope is a most dangerous thing when it came to matters of the heart. If she was not so utterly sure that if she spoke to him now, Barry would simply inform her about whatever it was that was going on between him and Katie (albeit tactfully), Iris might have agreed to speak with him, for (against her better judgment) there was still an ember of hope that burned within her. But for the sake of protecting herself from further heartbreak and humiliation, she could not entertain any remaining hope that she may have, and thus she arrived at the only possible course of action: Avoid Barry Allen. That was really the only option here. Avoiding him during the day would not be particularly challenging, for she would just stay in her room and stealthily sneak out to meet her father and Cecile when they arrive later this morning, but it was the gala that could be cause for some serious trouble, because Barry would be there, and Iris could not possibly dodge him at every turn without it becoming extremely obvious. There is also the likelihood that she might very well lose her resolve completely the moment he looks at her again the way he had last night, like a lost, sad puppy.

Her phone buzzes, and she glances over at the screen, where she is alerted to the fact that she has one unread message from Cynthia (and none from Barry, which disappoints Iris more than she expects, and the ember of hope dims considerably). The message from Cynthia reads:

“You promised we’d chat this morning, so consider this your reminder. I know you’re going to hide out in your room, which is totally fair, but I’m coming over right now.”

Iris is unsurprised by Cynthia’s adamancy, especially because she had indeed promised that they would have a long talk this morning. When Iris had returned to her room last night, she had managed to avoid having to admit to Cynthia that she was in love with Barry and that she was absolutely devastated by what she’d just learned, by citing exhaustion. Cynthia had reluctantly acquiesced, but only after Iris had promised her that they would talk tomorrow morning, and it would be typical of Cynthia to show up before 7AM.

Sure enough, there is a knock at the door, and Iris opens it and sees her friend standing before the threshold.

“Hey,” Iris says, tiredly.

“Hey, you okay?” Cynthia asks, concerned, and Iris is not sure what comes over her in that moment, but perhaps it’s the realization that she is absolutely not okay that overwhelms her right then. And now, having to face the reality of finally vocalizing how she’s been feeling, while trying to protect the shattered remnants of her heart, the notion that she truly is not okay is the catalyst. She had not cried last night, but now tears spill over her cheeks, a sob escapes her, and soon she is weeping, her hands covering her face, and Cynthia murmurs, while closing the door behind her,

“Oh, Iris.” And then Iris feels Cynthia’s arms come around her, holding her, soothing her, and finally, she allows herself to be comforted.

“You know,” Cynthia remarks, while clasping a crystal encrusted barrette onto her hair, slightly left of her parting. “I can always sue Katie Rogers, Eddie Thawne, and Barry for NIED. Say the word, and I’ll do it.” They are currently readying themselves for the gala, which officially begins in one hour, and Cynthia is positively stunning in a floor length, backless forest green gown, adorned with a myriad of sequins.

“And who would the plaintiff be, exactly?” Iris asks, still not dressed for the night yet, as she is trying to figure out what jewelry she is going to wear to accompany her red, floor length gown, a feat that was proving difficult, because she keeps eyeing the velvet box which contained the replica of her mother’s wedding band, which makes it nearly impossible to pick out a different necklace.

“Honestly? Me. Because I found what happened last night to be extremely, negligently harmful no matter how forcefully Barry will likely argue that he was unwittingly involved. Thawne is getting sued, specifically for inviting us to that crap show, which, just by being present at, mind you, had a dire effect on my psychological state.”

“We don’t even know what happened last night or what’s really going on, and even if we did know, your argument is a non-starter, especially because you typically find the vast majority of people that you meet to be annoying and claim that they are somehow guilty of NIED.”

“True, but I can spin a legal argument from nothing,” Cynthia smirks, and Iris rolls her eyes, but chuckles nonetheless. She is unsure of how Cynthia manages to come up with the most ridiculous and unsubstantiated legal arguments when not in a courtroom, but then again, she supposes that as a top litigator, Cynthia’s occasional legal theatrics are most definitely forgivable.

But then, Cynthia says, “I got you to smile and that was the ultimate goal.” Iris looks up at Cynthia, who has a soft smile on her face, and she smiles back, once again reflecting on how very glad she is that her friend is here with her. She knows Cynthia wants to properly converse about what happened last night, but she isn’t rushing Iris into the conversation, despite the fact that they did spend the entire day together and still had not really talked about last night.

To be sure, they had not spoken much about anything, though, because they frankly had not had the chance to. Cynthia had stayed with Iris that morning, first comforting her, as she had cried for a good half hour, and subsequently they had ordered room service and flipped through the channels available via the hotel’s cable service for a couple of hours, until Iris’s father called her to inform her that he and Cecile were roughly fifteen minutes away from the Time Metropolis. As Iris had gotten ready to meet her family outside the hotel, Cynthia had offered to join Iris, a request for which Iris had been eternally grateful, because she knew her dad would notice immediately that she was not herself, and so she could use the additional moral support. Upon meeting her father and Cecile, Joe had indeed commented that Iris appeared very tired, and she had shrugged it off, citing the cabaret the previous night as the obvious reason for her exhaustion, but Joe hadn’t been convinced.

“No, you look like somebody crushed your world,” he had commented, concern evident in his voice. She had laughed at that, because it sounded so dramatically absurd, and yet it was also truer than her father even realized.

“Dad, come on. I’m fine,” she had replied, quickly ushering her father and Cecile into the hotel lobby, as a couple of staff members took their luggage. Hoping to sway her father away from his suspicions, she had asked, “How was your flight?” Joe did not answer, instead watching her closely, but Cecile started chatting about their journey, which was a most welcome distraction for Iris. At the time, she knew her father was not going to let up so easily, for the mere fact that she was trying her hardest to appear nonchalant was enough to cause him concern, but he was unlikely to press the issue right at that moment.

Now, Iris knows that the longer that she stalls, the more likely it becomes that she will have to confront her heartbreak in her father’s presence, so she gathers her gown and makeup and heads to the bathroom to get ready, for there is only one mirror in the room, which Cynthia is currently utilizing. After laying her gown out on the edge of the marble counter, Iris stares at herself in the mirror and takes a few deep breaths. I can get through this. I need to get through this. Barry had not called her the entire day, nor had he messaged her, and in a way, this made Mission Avoid Barry Allen considerably easier, but she cannot help but feel a pang of sadness, because if Barry was not making the effort to speak with her now, then her original understanding of what had been revealed last night must be accurate. The shattering pain of heartbreak only worsens at this realization, but she refuses to allow this to dictate her night.

Instead, she busies herself by getting ready, first applying her makeup and then turning to her outfit for the night. Her red gown is a sight to behold, and she is aware of this, as she puts it on; the bodice hugs her figure like a glove, while the skirt tumbles elegantly over her legs and down to her feet. When she glances back up at the mirror to put on her dangling earrings, she makes a decision: as difficult as this night would most certainly be, she is going to make the most of it and ensure that her father and Cecile have a memorable soirée.

As she contemplates this, she hears a knock at the hotel room door outside, and subsequently, the door opening.

“Hi, Joe.” She hears Cynthia greet her father, and Iris is aware that her father has decided to come by, no doubt, to speak with her. So much for making it through the night.

“Hi Cynthia, I just wanted to stop by and see if Iris is around to speak for a few minutes,” Joe replies.

“Of course. Iris, your dad’s here!” And then Iris can here some shuffling around, before Cynthia announces, “Got my shoes. I’ll give you some time to speak with Iris privately. Anyways, I told Cisco that I would meet up with him before the party starts.”

“Thank you. I will see you at the gala.” Iris hears the door close, and she presumes that Cynthia has left. Upon hearing that Cisco and Cynthia are meeting up early, Iris smiles. At least they seem to be enjoying each other’s company very much, so perhaps there is a silver lining to this weekend, after all.

But, Iris is also acutely aware that her father is waiting for her and that she cannot put off this conversation any longer, so she looks into the mirror one last time, releasing a final deep breath, before exiting the bathroom. Upon her reentrance into the main area of the hotel room, her father looks up and smiles. “There you are,” he says. “You look beautiful, baby girl.”

“Thanks dad,” Iris replies, returning his smile, just as Joe walks over and envelopes her in a hug.

“What’s going on, Iris? And don’t say nothing,” he interrupts, just as she opens her mouth to protest. “I know there’s something wrong. I knew it from the moment I saw you this morning, but I wasn’t going to press you then. But clearly something happened this weekend.”

“Dad, please. It’s not a big deal. I’m just stressed from work and Carver suing the Citizen, and I don’t know… I guess the exhaustion from the last few weeks has caught up with me finally.” To be fair, that is not wholly untruthful. She is feeling the aftereffects of stress from the amount of work that had gone into the exposé.

“Iris, if I thought that was all this is about, I wouldn’t ask. I know you can handle pretty much anything, but this is different. And I know you’re grown and can deal with whatever it is going on, but I don’t want you to pretend you’re fine, because that solves nothing.”

“Yeah,” Iris murmurs, closing her eyes momentarily, and when she opens them, her father is regarding her earnestly. Taking a deep breath, she continues, “You’re right, it’s just… it’s Barry.” Joe’s lips quirk up slightly, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “I don’t know, dad. Barry and I have been fine, you know. I mean, we’re always fine. Until I… I’m not even sure how it happened, because one minute we’re friends. As we always have been. Seeing each other almost every day and catching up. And I don’t know when I realized it, but I… I love him, dad.” Her voice breaks slightly on love, for it is such an overwhelming feeling, being able to vocalize that she’s in love with Barry. She immediately feels her dad’s arm come around her shoulders as he hugs her to him.

“This might come as a surprise to you, but I’ve known you’ve been in love with that boy for many years,” Joe says, and Iris looks up at her dad, startled. Had her feelings been that obvious that her father knew she loved Barry before even she had realized it?

“How…”

“I know you, Iris. You’re so kind and so good, and you’re always trying to help everyone. But when you and Barry first met as children in the playground, and you ran over and reached out a hand to help him up when he tumbled off the swing and into the dirt, there was this different energy between the both of you, and it only became stronger over the years. You don’t know the way you look at him, but I see it. You probably don’t realize the way he looks at you either. But I know Barry too; he grew up just two doors down, and he looks at you like you are the sun and he has since the moment he first saw you.” At that, Iris is further surprised and confused, shaking her head,

“Dad, no, that’s impossible. Barry isn’t in love with me; he’s in love with someone else.”

“And you know that how?” Joe asks, raising his eyebrows, completely and utterly unconvinced at the implication that Barry Allen is in love with someone other than Iris West.

“Because it all came out last night. It’s not… it doesn’t matter.”

“Did Barry tell you he was in love with someone else?”

“Well, he didn’t say it in so many words,” Iris begins, just as Joe asks,

“Did he say it any words at all?” This gives Iris pause, for Barry had not said specifically that he was dating Katie, for that matter, but surely that was what he had been attempting to explain to her, before she had left. Katie revealed that they had gone out to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant, and it is not as if Barry disputed the fact, although he had been distinctly put off by her exuberance. But that might have simply indicated that he was uncomfortable by the level of scrutiny directed his way, thanks to Katie’s apparent inability to keep anything private. And yet, Iris can’t get that look he had given her, like his world had just been completely shattered, as she was leaving the club, out of her head.

Because if she is being wholly honest with herself, Iris knows that part of the impetus behind Mission Avoid Barry Allen is the fear that in whatever conversation she has with Barry, she would have no choice but to tell him the truth, and their equilibrium will be completely altered forever.

“No,” she finally replies. “I left before he could say anything. And honestly, dad, part of the reason why I ran away before speaking with him is just that… I guess, our friendship has been a safe harbor. We’ve always sought solace in one another, but the moment I tell him, everything changes, and I risk losing that safe harbor.”

“It seems,” Joe says with a knowing smile. “The two of you have a lot to talk about.” Iris nods, silently, as her father continues, “Iris, the most important thing you can do is be honest with yourself and with him. Sometimes, change is inevitable, and it is often a good thing, because you may not necessarily be risking anything. Talk to him and see what happens.”

“Yeah, I suppose that I can’t keep avoiding the inevitable,” Iris replies, before smiling gratefully at her father. “Thanks, dad.”

“Anytime, baby girl. Remember, I am so, so proud of you. Of the woman you have grown to be and of all that you have accomplished. And I always will be.” A wave of emotion washes over Iris, and she looks up at her father, who appears equally emotional.

“I love you, dad,” she says.

“I love you too, Iris.” Joe then mentions that they can head down to the gala whenever Iris is comfortable, but as grateful as she is for her dad’s concern and support, she knows they ought to not keep Cecile waiting, so she tells him she’ll meet them by the elevator.

“Are you sure?” Joe queries, but Iris is certain in her convictions now, which is a most welcome change from the lack of clarity she had been grappling with all weekend.

“Absolutely, dad. I’m okay. I’ll be right out.” Her father nods, kissing the side of her head, before exiting her hotel room. Now, there is just one thing left to do; she walks over to the small bedside table and picks up the velvet box containing the replica of her mother’s wedding band. Upon opening the box, she carefully removes the necklace, unclasps the hook, and puts it on.

Now, come what may, she is ready to face the world.

#westallen #westallen secret santa #submission

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harry-styles-sunflower · 4 years

Text

Wandering Hands Part 1

Hellooo everyone! I hope you are all having a lovely day! SO this is Part 1 of Wandering Hands.

What it is: You and Harry become friends but you come with certain baggage that might make any other man run.

Word count: 6.2k

Warning: death and angst? (lmk if i forgot one!)

Pls reblog if you like it :) Thanks in advance for the support!

~~~

It was a long day after work and you had no one but yourself to worry about tonight. It was Friday, you were at Joe’s, the bar across your apartment. You’d come in regularly. Only about every other weekend. You were drinking your troubles away with a Manhattan. The bar wasn’t too full, it was only happy hour. You heard the bell ding behind you meaning someone walked in. Some man approached the bar as you finished your drink.

“Hello, can I get a glass of your most recommended wine?” You felt him look over at you, “and a refill on whatever she’s having” he paid Joe and sat a stool away from you.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to” you slid your glass away from you.

“No problem, I wanted to” you nodded and watched the tv. Joe served you your Manhattan and the man his wine. You knew it was a glass of his Château Cheval-Blanc because you had had it yourself once. 4 years ago.

“You know, I never understood baseball too much.”

You drank your drink and looked at him from the corner of your eye. Was he talking to you or Joe? You looked around you and you were the only one close enough to hear him and Joe was busy.

“It’s a good sport if you understand it” you shrugged.

“Care to explain it to me?” He moved to the stool next to you.

You swallowed your drink and looked at the screen. You had no interest in getting a good look at the man next to you anyway.

“English?”

“Precisely.”

“The Red Sox and Yankees played in London a few years ago.”

“Wasn’t home.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah”

“Well Um. 9 innings, 3 strikes you’re out. Guy on the circle in the middle? That’s called a mound. His position is a pitcher- “

“Isn’t that what you guys pour juice out of?”

“Yeah we use the same word for a lot of things, don’t interrupt,” he smiled at you, “he’s a pitcher. He throws to the guy across him, the catcher. Catcher signals him what kind of ball to throw in between his legs. He does it based off the batter’s weakness. There’re 4 bases. 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and home. When the batter hits it, he hopes no one in the outfield catches it or it gets out of park. If they catch it while it was in the air he’s out, if they catch it after it’s hit the ground he can run as fast as he can to whatever base is available. But like in order. Oh, also if someone in the outfield catches the ball, they’re gonna throw it to one of the basemen so they can tag the batter running. But if the batter touches the base before they’re tagged then they’re safe.”

He nodded along so you knew he was listening.

“Can I ask a question now?”

You nodded and sipped your drink.

“How do you know it’s a strike?”

“Oh, my bad. See the box on the screen? If it gets in there it’s a strike. Outside the box it’s a no ball but we usually just say ball.”

He nodded and gestured to your drink, “refill?”

“Oh no, I’m good. I need water” He ordered one for you and Joe gave you a knowing look and you just shook your head at him. You two were basically friends now. He’d gotten to know you over the past 4 years. You lived across the street for 5 but you came in 4 years ago. Joe came and gave you your water and you drank it slowly and watched the game. It was Yankees v. Red Sox. The Red Sox made a homer and you shook your head.

“Yankees fan?”

“Yep. We’re in New York. Kind of against the law to be anything else.”

He laughed and sipped his wine. He hadn’t drunken much, he gave you all his attention while you spoke. “My dad was a big Yankee fan. I’ve been one since the day I was born. My mom says she pushed me out and when the doctor put me in her arms the Yankees had won the game. We used to go to a game like every year when I was a kid.”

“Are they as fun as they seem?”

“Even better. During the commercials on tv, sometimes the outfield players play catch with the people on the side or they play a video of the players talking or play a game with the crowd”

“That’s pretty cool,” he put his hand in front of you, “I’m Harry by the way”. You looked at his hand and put yours in it and shook it.

“Y/n” you looked over at him. You finally took a good look at his face. He was gorgeous you couldn’t deny it. He had strong facial features. Short stubble and green eyes. They were bright. Different than your own dark eyes. He made eye contact with you for a few seconds before you turned back to the screen and drank your water.

“If you’re from England, are you here for business or pleasure?” It was New York, people came and went. Travelled. But in your small town about 30 minutes north from the city, no one really came through here unless they knew someone.

“I uh I’ve been here for about a year but I just moved to the area recently. Got a little tired of the city life, but didn’t want to be too far. I work as an editor at Simon & Schuster.”

“Wow. That’s a good job. Hell of a commute I assume?”

“About 1 hour every morning. It’s worth it. Sleep without the sound of horns or sirens”

“True.”

He turned on his stool to face you and you faced him. Your knees were touching.

“So, what do you do?”

“Teach. I’m a teacher. 7th grade social studies. Actually, I taught the Boston Tea party today” you smirked at him and put one arm up on the bar and leaned against your hand and one hand on your knee. Some fingers accidentally touched his knee but your knees were touching. You couldn’t prevent it from happening

“Ahh” he moved a pointed finger at you. You laughed and so did he. He had dimples. Cute. “Such a petty thing if you ask me” he shrugged.

You laughed and shook your head.

“A lot of history is petty.”

“Do you like teaching?” He put himself in the same position as you, his fingers brushing yours too.

“I guess. I love my kids and filling their minds with knowledge but the standards and requirements are a pain in the ass”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about that. Not too much freedom”

“Yeah. Like if I want to take them to a museum, I need to find a standard that validates that museum will teach them according to that standard”

“Wow. The museums here are basically free too right?”

“Yep.”

He shakes his head and sips his drink.

“It’s been like an hour and you’re still drinking your wine”

“Well Ms. Judgey, it’s a good wine. I’m savoring it.”

“It is good. I’ve had it. And I’m not judgey. I was just saying it must be warm now.”

“Eh. It’s still chill. Thanks for caring though” he grinned at you.

You rolled your eyes and finished your water.

“When did you have it?”

“Huh?”

“The wine”

“Oh, um four years ago”

“That’s precise”

“It was on an anniversary of something.”

“Wedding anniversary?” He laughed.

“Death anniversary actually.” His face stilled and he became pale.

“Shit I’m so sorry for laughing.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“Shouldn’t have assumed.”

You saw him looking at you like he wanted to know who it was but would never dare to ask. You debated telling him. You turned back towards the screen, leaving his knees cold. He felt he had lost any chance he thought he had with you. He liked talking to you.

“Joe, jack and coke please”

He nodded and brought it to you. You chugged it down. Harry put his head in his hands. He had driven you to drink. Yikes.

“It was my husband. He died.”

He lifted his head from his hands and looked over at you. You were a widow. You looked so young. He felt bad you had to go through such pain.

“I’m sorry for your loss”

“Thanks. It was 5 years ago. I’m alright”

He nodded. Too scared to say the wrong thing.

“He was in the service. Died in Iraq.”

“Oh wow…” he was surprised you were opening up to him. Perhaps it was the liquid courage.

“Came with the territory, I guess. We were together for 10 years. Married for 5. Widowed for 5 now. If you’re trying to do the math we were high school sweethearts. Started at 15. Married at 20. He died at 25. Yes, I’m 30.” You drank your leftover water.

“Erm… Wow. Well you look good” he was nervous.

You laughed lightly and said thanks.

“Guess I scared you away now didn’t I?”

“No no! Not at all I just don’t want to fuck up and say the wrong thing.”

“Harry it’s been 5 years I’m good. I’m religious, I coped well”

“Oh okay.”

“Stop being nervous!” You laughed.

“I can’t help it!” He laughed lightly.

“I’ve got a big curveball for you,” you turned to face him and you put your hands on his shoulders as he faced you.

“I see what you did there. Curveball” he tilted his head toward the tv.

“Ooh yeah. I didn’t even notice. Well are you ready?”

“I think?”

“I have a son.”

It was what he thought. Didn’t know if he fully expected it though.

“Okay. Curveball caught? Strike? What’s the big deal?”

“Wait what? You’re not thrown off?” You were shocked. His face barely twitched or showed any surprised expression.

“No?” He shrugged. “It’s a child. I guess I kind of expected maybe something after you said you were together for 10 years.” He finished his wine.

“Fair enough.”

“So, where is he? If you’re here”

“In-laws. They take him every other weekend. Or just from Friday till Saturday.”

“You get along with them?”

You shrugged. “I think they thought I wanted him to sign up for the force. I didn’t. Obviously. It’s a death sentence. I just wanted to support my boyfriend at the time,” He nodded as you spoke, “but they love Sam and are always there for him”

“Sam huh?”

“Samuel. He’s 7”

“Good age”

“Yeah. He’s a lil sarcastic but I blame myself. I could be that way so he’s only doing what he’s learned. But he’s really smart. He’s obsessed with rocks. Been that way since he could walk”

“That’s cute I won’t lie”

“Thanks” you laughed. You liked his company. He was easy to talk to. You had found it easy to open up. He didn’t seem creepy either. Like he just wanted to get in your pants.

“Well it’s been lovely boys, but I have a little boy I have to be up for in the morning. His grandma wants to have brunch”

You stood up and so did Harry.

“Wait let me walk you to your car.”

You lived across the street but he didn’t have to know that. Joe hid his smile when you said “okay”. Harry paid Joe for both of your tabs and walked out with you. It wasn’t too late, 6 pm. You walked to your car and his was coincidentally in front of yours.

“So um. It was nice meeting you. I enjoyed your company”

You fiddled with your keys and looked up at him.

“Yeah I did too.” you said.

“Would it be too forward if I asked for your number?” he was biting the inside of his cheek, you could tell.

Guys had hit on you before. But the wounds were too fresh and Sam was too young. He’s still young but he’s smart, and he knows some days you feel lonely. As much as you convinced him that he was the only man you needed he knew the truth. You liked his company and conversations. So, you said,

“I don’t think so,” you held your hand out for his phone and he placed it in your hand. You put your number in as “y/n 🥃🍷”. Ball was in his court now.

“Cute” you both laughed.

“I’ll text you” he said

“Mhm” yeah. Sure.

“Are you gonna get in your car?”

“Oh, it’s fine you don’t have to wait” please don’t make me get in my car. I live here.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t wait until you at least got in to your car?”

Okay you were a little impressed. Fair enough.

“Very true actually. Well bye, Harry”

“Nuh uh. It’s see you soon. I’m serious about texting you”

“Okay” you laughed and got in your car.

He got in his and you waited for him to pull out.

Once he was past the traffic light you got out and went up to your apartment. You called Sam’s grandma the second you got in. He picked up with an ecstatic voice.

“Hi ma!”

“Hi baby, how are you? Everything okay?”

“Yeah! We’re bowling. I’ve gotten 2 strikes!”

“Oh wow. Look at you!”

“Grandpa says dad was good at bowling”

Your heart broke just a little. It bothered you a little when they spoke about him to Sam. You knew he was their son but they didn’t know how much Sam cried sometimes wishing he got to know his dad. You only spoke about him when Sam asked about him or mentioned him.

“Yeah he was actually. When we were younger, we went on a date and he won one round and I won the other. But we were too broke to buy another round so we left it a tie” you laughed at the memory. Just 15-year-old kids.

“You were broken?”

“No sorry hon, I mean we didn’t have enough money to pay for another round”

“Ohh okay.” You forgot sometimes Sam was only seven because he was so smart sometimes.

“Yeah. Well can you put your grandma on for me hon?”

“Yeah okay. I can stay over?”

“Yeah of course. As long as you want to and don’t feel forced to okay?” You knew sometimes he didn’t want to because of how much they spoke about his dad. On those weekends you faked he had a tummy ache.

“Yeah okay. Here’s grandma” he passed the phone to your in-law. You could never say ex. Your husband wasn’t an ex.

“Hello?” Her tone was already unwelcoming.

“Hey, just wanted to confirm we’re still on for 11?”

“Yeah. I haven’t cancelled.” Translation: did I tell you we weren’t going?

“Okay. Sounds great. See you there”

“Okay” she hung up.

“Yeah okay bye. Geez” you slammed your phone on the table and rubbed your temples. She was always so rude to you. When he died, she said it was your fault he left. She apologized for that but it was still something she said. You can’t take words back. You left your phone on the table and went to shower. You just wanted to take a warm shower, relax your muscles, wear some cozy pajamas, drink some tea, and watch friends until you fell asleep. Friends never did you wrong. So that’s what you did. You remember to set your alarm for tomorrow but you also remembered you left your phone on your kitchen table. With a groan because you found the position and you knew you wouldn’t find it again, you got up and got your phone. You saw you had a text from a random number. When you unlocked your phone, the message said

H: Hey, it’s Harry.

You felt bad for making him wait but whatever.

Y/n: hey

You got back into bed, not finding the position again and kept your phone next to you. Your phone lit up about a minute or two later.

H: what’s up? Did you get home safe?

Y/n: oh yeah. Thanks. You?

H: Yeah, I did thanks. So, what’s up?

Y/n: watching friends, you?

H: Same actually. Nick@nite?

Y/n: Yup 😂

H: I’m happy they play this. Especially since Netflix took friends off.

Y/n: Same. Friends is like my bedtime story now. I watch it every night

H: favorite character?

Y/n: I think it depends the season? Like I love Ross in season 9 and I love the rest. I couldn’t pick

H: I agree.

H: Would you want to FaceTime?

You thought about it. Did you want to?

H: We don’t have to if you don’t want to. (Sorry for the spam of messages btw)

You laughed at the last bit.

Y/n: we can FaceTime :)

“Harry would like FaceTime…” you slid your finger across the screen.

“Hello”

“Hey” he smiled into the camera.

“You look cozy” he was wearing a brown robe thing w a hood from what you could see.

“Ooh I am,” he looked up at the tv, “why are birth control commercials so odd?”

They were playing a commercial for lo loestrin fe and the cartoon bought what was supposed to be lingerie and was showing her boyfriend you assume.

“I hated that pill. It was the worst one I’ve ever tried”

“Really?”

“Yeah it made me gain weight and tons of acne”

“It sucks that all that comes with just trying to prevent pregnancy”

“Yeah. You males have it so lucky”

“Well if they came out with a male one, I’d take it”

You laughed a little too loud.

“You think you’d be able to remember?”

“I’d just take it in the morning. Like a vitamin”

You noticed the way he pronounced vitamin. It was a little different. Cute different.

“I used to take mine at night, just before bed. It was easier that way for me”

He nodded at you and the show had come back. You think that maybe that whole conversation was TMI for your first FaceTime call. The episode The One in Barbados. You both laughed at Monica’s hair.

“Kind of didn’t like the whole Joey and Rachel plot line” He said while looking at the tv screen. It was like you guys were together in the same room and his company was nice on this lonely night.

“Yeah same. It was wack” he laughed at that.

“I think I love phoebe”

“Same, Regina Phalange”

“It’s actually princess consuela bananahammock.” He said with a straight face. You cracked up at his little joke and kept watching the tv.

A few hours later and friends was over. You and Harry were basically playing 21 questions.

“any pets?” You asked.

“Nah, I work too long” you nodded.

“Favorite flower?”

“Sunflowers or tulips”

“Interesting choices”

“Thank you” you smiled. You were now in bed laying down against your pillow, “do you live in a house?”

“Yeah. Small but yeah”

“I used to, but a year after he died, I had to sell it. I like the small space better. It’s more homelike for just us 2”

He nodded and listened. “What time is lunch with your in law?”

You liked how he didn’t say ex in laws. It was a small thing but you noticed.

“11:00”

“Oh okay”

“Yeah”

“Y/n, um. I’d like to take you out. On a proper date. But I know you’re probably really busy. So, um do you think you could let me know when you’re free? If you wanted to go out on a date with me that is”

“Yeah sure” you bit back your smile. You had never done this before. Well not after your husband. It would be your first date in 5 years. You just got a good feeling from Harry.

“Oh okay” he was a little shocked.

“If not this week, then the next. Maybe Friday”

“Yeah that’s good with me”

“Well uh, I’m gonna go to sleep Harry. It was nice meeting you today”

“Yeah it was for me too, meeting you. Goodnight. Sweet dreams”

“Yeah thank you. Goodnight” you smiled and hung up. You felt giddy and happy. You looked at your bedside table and it was a picture of you on your wedding day staring back at you. You knew he would want you to move on already. You smiled and contently fell asleep.

~~~

You woke up around 9:45 to give yourself enough time to get ready. It was nice being able to sleep in a bit. Sam was always up by 8. You remembered your conversation with Harry last night. You haven't had a conversation like that in years. You'd just recently decided that you'd be open for a relationship but you weren't on any dating apps or anything either. Going with the flow you guess. You got ready quickly and drove to the restaurant where you were meeting your boy and your in-laws. You stepped out your car and so did they. Sam looked around before running to you. You opened your arms for him and he hugged you tight.

"Ugh my baby I missed you so much last night!" you kissed his forehead.

"I missed you too ma," he kissed your cheek.

You picked him up and spun him around making you both giggle.

"y/n", your mother in law said.

"Lydia, how are you?" She held her purse in front of her as you put Sam down.

"I'm good, you?"

"Good."

Your father in law approached you. He was quieter and more reserved. The loss of his son hit him hard. The two were close. He did watch out for you a bit more than Lydia. Lydia's priority was Sam, William's priorities were you and Sam.

"Hi William, how are you?"

He gave you a hug and you guys walked into the restaurant.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Good, thank you."

You guys got settled into a booth and you already knew what you all wanted. This wasn’t the first time.

"Sam told me his science teacher is being hard on him," Lydia spoke without looking away from you. She was looking at your clothes and makeup. Seeing if it was up to her standards.

"Yes, he told me too. I already told him what to do."

"And what was that?" Here we go. Here's the thing. Lydia was your husband's mother. When he passed, she wanted to be her grandson's mother as well.

You held in a sigh before speaking. "I told him to work hard during school but if she specifically targets him repeatedly to let me know and I'll handle it."

She nodded and stayed quiet. Thank God.

"Mami, your phone vibrated," Also, your husband was Italian. You were Hispanic so you were trying to teach Sam some of his Hispanic side as his grandparents taught him mostly his Italian side. They more so taught him stuff about the culture and food, but none of the language. They swore they knew it but you've never heard them speak it.

"Thank you for letting me know mijo, but since we're all together I'll check it later." you kissed his head.

You and your husband had done a good job. He was a perfect mix from both of you. He had brown curly hair, like you. Hazel eyes like his dad. Dark eyelashes like you. A button nose like his dad that was covered in freckles like yours. Plump lips like the both of you. The food came and you all began eating.

"We wanted to talk to you about something." you felt Sam put his hand on your knee. Uh oh. He was preparing you for something he knew you may not like.

"Okay, what is it?"

William spoke up, "Well, winter break is coming up and we wanted to take Sam away for a week."

You almost choked on your food. A week? Them? With your son? Were they insane? Okay maybe you were being a little dramatic but what?!

"Um, where?" you tried to seem open about the idea.

"Blue mountain. We would go snow tubing and other things in the snow." Lydia said.

"For a week? Snow tubing for a week? That sounds more like a weekend thing to me." you ate your eggs.

"Well we would look in the town for other things to do obviously," Lydia snickered like you had sounded ridiculous. She better not start with an attitude you thought. She was asking you for a favor not the other way around. So instead of giving her a direct answer, you said "I'll think about it." You needed to talk to Sam if this was something he wanted to do or they wanted to do.

You guys had finished eating and you all eventually said goodbye. Sam wanted to come back home instead of staying Sunday. Sometimes he just wanted extra time with you.

~~~

You were driving home from unsuccessful shoe shopping when you heard Sam's little voice come from the backseat.

"Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. Why would you say that?"

"Because grandma was kind of rude to you when you said it wasn't a week long thing." Every year he became more observant.

"Well I mean I didn't like that but I'm not mad. I don't let your grandmother ruin my mood."

"Okay"

"Do you wanna go?"

"I don’t know… I do but not for a week. That's too long away from you."

Your heart warmed a little and you nodded. "I'd feel that way too."

"Did dad like snow tubing?"

"I'm not sure bud, we never went"

"Oh."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't go. I went when I was younger with my mom and sister, we made it a girl's trip. It was a lot of fun."

"Really? What if we went just us two?"

"Hm I don’t know bud; I think your grandparents might get sad. I think I can tell them it will only have to be for a weekend and then you and I could go another time. Just us two."

"Umm okay that sounds good. I agree."

"Good." you pulled in front of your building.

"What was dad's favorite season?"

"Fall. He hated the heat, but he hated being too cold. And he'd get the worst allergies in the spring and he had this weird pet peeve for sneezing. It was kind of funny seeing him get frustrated though. He would look like he wanted to rip his nose off." You held his hand as you walked inside. He giggled at what you said. When you both got inside to your apartment you both took off your shoes and sweaters. You had a picture of your husband on a small table by your entrance. Every time you walked in Sam would say "Hi dad!" to it. He asked if he could watch some Disney XD for a bit and you said it was fine. You were going to make some dinner. You checked your phone and saw Harry had texted you. You were a little shocked he kept up with talking to you.

H: Hey, good afternoon. I hope brunch went well :)

y/n: Hey it did, I guess.

H: You guess?

y/n: Eh they want something, felt like a setup?

H: Ah. I get what you mean. Sorry it happened.

y/n: It's alright. I got my boy back so I'm happy.

H: Good. I'd love to meet him someday to be honest. He sounds adorable.

You thought about his text. How would Sam react? He's always saying for you to get a friend but what would happen when you actually did? It made you nervous to think about. You felt your phone vibrate again.

H: Uh sorry if that was too forward.

y/n: No, its fine. It was sweet.

H: Okay good.

"Ma?"

You jumped up slightly like you had been caught doing something bad.

"Who are you texting? You never text this much" he was grinning at you. He was happy?

"Um none ya beeswax"

"It is my beeswax when it's taking time away from you cooking my dinner," you gave him a warning look. Dang smart ass. Gets it from you. He mumbled a "Sorry" and sat up on the stool and leaned on your countertop.

"I made a friend that’s all okay?"

"A guy friend?" he smirked.

You turned to get a pot. "Mhm"

"What's his name?"

"Harry."

"I like that name."

"You would like any name if it meant I had a friend."

He giggled and nodded. "Does he know about me?"

"Of course he does. You think I could not talk about you?"

"Okay okay," he blushed slightly, "Is he nice?"

"Yeah he's pretty nice."

"Are you gonna go on a date?"

"Samuel! He's a friend!" you playfully yelled at him.

"Mom I'm not 5, I know you might want a little BOYfriend"

"Sam you are 7, and how do you even know what a boyfriend is." you were talking to him as you gathered all your ingredients.

"Grandma told me about boyfriends and girlfriends"

"Now what is she doing telling you about that?" you looked at him.

"Well we saw a couple at the bowling alley and they kissed and I said ew and she said it’s because they were boyfriend and girlfriend so she explained what that meant to me."

"Hm, okay." you trusted she gave him a good and appropriate definition.

"Do you have a picture of him?"

"We just met yesterday" you say as you open and close cabinets.

"Does he like baseball?"

"I actually had to explain the sport to him. He's not from here." you started cooking.

"Where's he from? Is he from where dad used to work?"

"No, way off. He's from a place called England."

"Where the Beatles are from!"

"Exactly," you smiled at him. He was a classic soul.

“That’s cool”

“Yeah his voice is different too”

“I wanna meet him” he put his chin in his palm, “It’d be nice to be around another guy that isn’t grandpa.”

“He uh actually said he wants to meet you too but I think we should wait a bit. I think I should get to know him better before you meet him” You stir your pasta in the pot.

“Okay” he tapped your phone screen, “he texted you”

“Thanks, nosey” you took your phone and read his message. You had forgotten to respond.

Y/n: hey sorry was cooking dinner for the hungry boy and I

H: it’s alright. What’s on the menu?

Y/n: pasta. Penne ala vodka with some shrimp. Probably some garlic bread too. Lazy meal

H: lazy? sounds glorious.

You laughed as you texted.

“Oooh he’s making you laugh!” Sam giggled.

You covered your face and told him to go to his room to make sure he had done his homework. Tomorrow you were going to Chuck E Cheese so he wouldn’t have time to do it then.

Y/n: we’ll see how it tastes

H: do you like to cook?

Y/n: I do but I run out of things to cook so I get bored

H: yeah same. I like to experiment though.

You were feeling a little confident and flirtatious

Y/n: maybe you could show me sometime

H: yeah. That’d be fine with me 😊

You bit your lip unsure of what to say. It had been a while since you were back on the flirting scene. You felt your phone vibrate again.

H: are you vegetarian or anything? Gonna think of some ideas from now.

Y/n: I don’t follow any specific diet but I definitely don’t eat a lot of meat. More of a seafood person.

H: gotcha ;)

Y/n: ;)?

H: don’t like it?

Y/n: eh it’s alright 🤷🏻‍♀️

H: alright?

Y/n: mhmm

H: you’re teasing me, aren’t you?

Y/n: just a lil bit 🤏🏻

H: 😂😂

You finished up cooking dinner and called Sam. He came down quickly and mumbled a small yum.

Y/n: I’ll talk to you later. Gonna eat now.

H: okay 🥰

You served you and Sam plates and you both ate quietly as you watched some tv. You would say you were pretty lenient with Sam. He was very mature for his age and he respected you greatly. He barely gave you a hard time. You think he got that from his dad. His dad always wanted to please you any chance he got.

“Mami, can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“How come, hon?”

“It’s comfier” you laughed at this because you would say the same thing to your parents when you were younger.

“Okay. But you know you can’t always sleep in Mami’s bed. You gotta sleep in your own some nights.”

“Yeah I know,” he smiled at you.

“Alright. Well can I trust you’ll bathe yourself good tonight? I don’t have to help you?”

“Yes ma, I’ll remember to wash myself good.”

“Okay, remember to get in between your toes and everything”

He nodded at you. You two finished your plates and you sent him off to shower. He kept the door open just in case he needed your help opening one of the bottles. You remembered the first bath you ever gave him. He was so much smaller compared to now and his dad kept complaining about how slippery he was. You were only 23 with a new job and new home but you were both so happy with your little boy. You cleaned up the kitchen and went up to bed where your little boy was already waiting. He had turned on the tv and was watching friends. You showered quickly before getting in bed with him. He cuddled up to your side and laid his head on your chest. You massaged your fingers into his damp curls until you heard him snore lightly. You fixed him onto your other pillow and fell asleep on yours.

~~~

The weekend had ended and you hadn’t heard from Harry. That was before you remembered you were the one who hadn’t answered. It was now Monday afternoon and you were picking up Sam from school. You worked at a middle school just a block away. Sam hopped into your car and told you about his day.

"Can I go to Justin's house tomorrow afterschool?"

"Is Justin's parents okay with this?"

"Yeah, we'll do our homework first too!"

"Alright, you better do it because when you get home I'm checking it all"

"Okay!"

You guys walked into your apartment and Sam went up to shower. That was the routine after school. He showers while you make a snack, after that he comes down and eats while you shower, you grade papers while he does homework, and then if he's done you let him watch some Disney channel while you make dinner. This is exactly how your evening rolls out and you decide to text Harry.

y/n: hey sorry. Busy day yesterday. You wanted me to let you know when I was free and I'm free tomorrow after 3...

You stop typing, "Sam, until when are staying at Justin's?"

"Until like 6? He said his mom was gonna cook"

"Okay," you continue typing,

y/n: Hey sorry. Busy day yesterday. You wanted me to let you know when I was free and I'm free tomorrow after 3 until like 6. I know its late notice so no worries if you're not free too.

You finish cooking, eating, and cleaning and you still hadn't heard from Harry. He was probably mad at you now. You sighed aloud and thought well it was nice while it lasted. You went over Sam's homework with him and then made sure he brushed his teeth before bed. You tucked him in and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

"Goodnight my love," you pushed his hair back off his forehead.

"Goodnight mami, goodnight dad" he blows a kiss toward the picture of him and his dad on his bedside table.

You walked out his room leaving his door ajar and walked down to your room. You grab your book and climb into bed. It was the book from Jane the Virgin. You related to Jane in multiple ways. As you were becoming a part of the fictitious world of the character Josephine you felt your phone vibrate.

H: Banzai, 3:30pm, Be there or be square.

You smiled at his assertiveness. It was kind of cute.

H: If that's okay with you.

y/n: Yes, that's fine lol😂😂

He could never be too serious you thought.

H: watching friends?

y/n: actually reading.

H: what are you reading?

y/n: snow falling, it’s from a show and stuff.

H: look at the publishing company

You looked and sure enough it was Simon & Schuster. Wow.

y/n: Wow lol, I never noticed.

H: I've read it, it's pretty good. More of a girly book, I think.

Y/n: I can’t imagine you reading this tbh.

H: it was a hard manuscript to get through. Kept me on my toes.

You continued texting and before you knew it, it was 2 in the morning.

y/n: wow its 2am.

H: I know. Time flew. You're so easy to talk to.

y/n: I could say the same about you.

H: I'm excited for later

y/n: so am I, free food.

H:😐😐😐

y/n: I'm joking!

H: sure you are.

y/n: I am, I'm excited too because I miss your company, its nice.

H: I don't have a company

y/n: Harry

H: okay okay, thank you. Get some rest, you've gotta be up early.

y/n: true, see you later! 😊

H: see you🥰

~~~

Part two is up now!

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #wanderinghands #wh

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livelovelaug-h · 4 years

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Forty's better half pt 1

Prompt: Can you write Forty x Reader where Y/n is a pretty rich photographer & she supports her boyfriend Forty in everything he does (even with money). Love really loves her & the three of them spend a lot of time together. So when Love & Joe get together he questions that Forty is depending on Y/n too much and she kind of tells him off. I need lots of fluffy cuddles with Forty, if it's not a problem.

Tags : @thanossexual thanksss for the request!!!!

You walked into Anavrin excited to share the good news with your boyfriend Forty.

"Hey babes what's up?" He said to you.

"I have some great news!"

"Ooh spill the tea."

"Those pictures I took at the wedding they gave me about 1900$ for all the pics."

"Woww oh my God that's fantastic!"

"I know right, Thank you." You leaned in and kissed him. You saw a guy with black hair across the room putting books away. 'I guess he's new here.' you thought.

"I was thinking that now i can get you that new camera you wanted and maybe we can shoot something for your movie idea or something."

"Awww you are the absolute best."

You shrugged "I try."

"Do you think we can use your guest house?."

"For you of course."

Joe's pov

Hello, you must be forty's girlfriend I heard about. Rich I can definitely tell. You dress up like someone who can afford it. What's that I hear you're gonna pay for his stuff?? isn't he good with money? All I know is that love really likes you, and if she likes you then you must be pretty impressive.

"Hey Will, come over here for a sec." I hear forty yell. So I walk over.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend since you and love are a thing now."

"Oh so you're the one he's been talking about?"

"Uh yeah that's me. Well I hope it is." She jokes. "nice to meet you I'm Will bettelheim."

"Nice to meet you too. I'm y/n l/n. How do you like working here? Hopefully forty hasn't chewed your ear off with his stories."

"Oh no they're great. I actually like it here. I have never been to a place like this."

"Well I hope you don't get tired of it." You laugh. "Well I'll see you later babe." you say to forty and give him a peck on the lips.

"Bye love you."

"It was nice meeting you Will. Hopefully I'll see you Soon."

"Of course. It was nice meeting you too." With that you turned around and left.

"Isn't she great?"

"Yeah she seems nice."

"She is. man, I mean she's been helping and supporting my writing ever since day one."

"How did you guys meet?"

"She was at my mom's party, of course she was the photographer and we just hit it off."

"How long ago was that."

"About two years. Well I'll let you go. I gotta go work on my story. See you later."

"See ya."

Y/n l/n. Let me see. I pull up your Instagram. Some pics of you and forty and some professional pictures. You're pretty famous almost a million followers. It's a nice page. People are commenting that you and forty are "mom and dad" that's umm strange? They're waiting for him to purpose. Some of the comments say:

They are so in love.

The way they look at each other. 🥺😍

God hellppp us 👐 you guys are perfect for each other.

I don't know about you y/n but something is off about you two. how do people not see it ?

~~~~

Your pov

"Okay perfect. Do a silly one."

Snap

"Great!!." Love goes over to the door and I see Will standing there. Him again. I don't know something about him doesn't seem right.

Joes pov

Oh. Y/n. She's here again. Not a surprise.

"thank you so much for letting me do this Mrs. Quinn." I hear her say as love walks over towards me.

"oh hey. what's going on here ?" I ask.

She kisses me hello. "it's the anniversary of the store opening so you know my parents are going to be extra and want a party. Y/n is taking pics for the website and the new articles."

"oh wow, That's great. Well congrats & Happy anniversary Avavrin." She laughs.

"were going to be doing a pic with all the workers so come on."

"oh hey Will."

"hey y/n. How are you?"

"I'm good and you?"

"I'm great thanks."

Your pov

"hey so game night is this week are you in Will?" I ask him, putting him right on the spot.

"of course, why would I miss that?"

"great, can't wait to get to know you more."

"Y/n dear can you come here for a quick moment." Mrs. Quinn calls.

"duty calls. See you guys." I say and walk away. My plan is to get him drunk, maybe then I'll be able to see if Will is who he says he is. Or if he's hiding anything. You never know.

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fezwearingjellybananas · 3 years

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imagine an ot3 in which each of the characters are completely convinced that the other two characters are dating (polyshipprompts)

I do in fact have a Barriscowest idea:

It's series one. We open the night Barry was taken to S.T.A.R. Labs. He's unconscious and no one knows what's going on and he keeps dying in Iris' arms and Cisco Ramon is an engineer, a genius but he doesn't know anything about medicine, he doesn't know how to help Barry but Iris seems like she needs a shoulder to cry on and he does know how to be that.

Cisco's a friendly person. But he doesn't have many friends. Iris is in S.T.A.R. Labs every day visiting Barry, she always asks Cisco how he is and what he's been doing and he never mentions friends. He looks up to Doctor Wells but that's his boss, he cares about Caitlin but she's mourning her financé and seems to be some distance between her and Cisco at the minute, Cisco is lonely. But he's been so nice, so Iris invites him out for coffee. It becomes a regular thing.

And then Barry wakes up. Things are weird. It's been nine months but that doesn't make sense in his head because it feels like no time at all and also he has superpowers. That's pretty cool. Also his best friend who he's been in love with his entire life is dating his new friend.

It's pretty obvious to Barry. Neither of them have actually said anything but they get coffee every week and have other plans and Iris always lights up when she sees Cisco and Caitlin tells him they started getting close while he was unconscious. She figured they were trying to keep it on the down-low, maybe Cisco was thinking about Ronnie and her, maybe now there's a part of it that's the two of them trying to spare Barry's feelings, he never told her but maybe they know, Caitlin worked it out very quickly. He's happy for them. He won't deny he's upset and a little jealous- he has been in love with Iris for years- but Cisco's nice. He likes Cisco. And he never told her and even if he had he was unconscious and no one knew if he would wake up, if Iris found someone who makes her happy then good, he's glad, he's determined to be glad.

Barry Allen is head over heels for Iris West. Cisco's known him a day and he can tell. And Iris never mentioned dating but the way she talked about Barry, there was more to it than him being her best friend, and the way she looks at him when he walks into a room, the two of them are clearly made for each other. Which is great! It's great. It's fantastic. He's just going to squash these feelings for Barry before they can get past a crush, Iris is his friend, he's not going to do anything to hurt his friend. Doctor Wells is right, it's more important he keeps his friend, and Barry needs him focused if they're going to help with this superhero thing.

Barry's dating Cisco. He's always at S.T.A.R. Labs, he's keeping secrets which he never does, and he's already really close to Cisco which never happens with Barry, him dating Cisco makes sense, she talked to Eddie about it and he agrees. But Barry seems happier than he has in years, Iris is just happy to see that. Whatever they're doing hasn't affected her friendship with Cisco, Barry's acting weird but that's because he's trying to keep it secret, he'll tell her when he's ready. Or maybe it was Cisco's idea, either way, neither of them could have realised she's been slowly developing feelings for Cisco, and if they're happy, she's happy.

Except:

Barry has dated people before but it never lasted. And Iris never liked them. She does like Cisco. Barry's relationship with Cisco seems to be lasting. She's having the same feelings about that as she did when Barry dated Becky Cooper. Which means it might not have been completely about Becky.

Barry woke up and turned out to be Cisco's dream guy. He's literally a superhero. But hanging out with Iris is so much fun, and she's so nice and she needed a friend and he wasn't going to put anything more than the offer of friendship on her shoulders but actually now Barry's awake and she's happier maybe a crush on Barry isn't the only thing he should be squashing.

Cisco's fun and made him a suit and loves hugs and they've already had multiple Star Trek marathons and Cisco quoted Spock to him and he's great and Barry absolutely should not fall in love with Iris' boyfriend but Barry might have fallen in love with Iris' boyfriend

And then:

Iris hears about what happened at Mercury Labs. She knows a few people want to pin it on the Flash, but Iris hears about a man in a yellow suit and she grew up with Barry, she knows exactly what he said he saw that night, it's why she started writing about the Flash. Only when Iris writes her article about another speedster in Central Mason Bridge pulls her aside and pulls out the big secret project he's been working on for months. So much evidence that the Man in Yellow is real. Evidence Harrison Wells is the Man in Yellow. And then Mason disappears.

Cisco hasn't been sleeping. Doctor Wells and Caitlin have both brought up what happened with Snart and Dante but that's not why Cisco can't sleep. Every time he closes his eyes he sees Doctor Wells standing in front of him, his hand vibrating, confessing to murder, claiming he sees Cisco as a son and then he kills him. And it makes no sense, but it feels so real. He needs to look at the trap again but he can't go down alone, but how can he explain this to Barry? What if he's wrong? What if he's not?

Barry's just generally having a bad time. The man who murdered his mother is back and wants Barry dead. The whole reason he was there was to kill Barry, it's all his fault, and then a few days later Joe maybe died, Caitlin said Cisco definitely did, and then he time travelled. Cisco being back is fantastic but they're not getting anywhere with the Man in Yellow.

Except:

Barry is a forensic scientist. He might not be a genius engineer or physicist or biochemist but he is very good at his job. He's been approaching this as the Flash, who is going to stop this man, and mostly as Barry, the boy who lost his mother and who wants his father back more than anything. What he needs is to take a step back and do what he's good at: find the evidence and put the pieces together to solve the puzzle. And he knows a detective who who knows metahumans exist and who might believe him.

Iris knows Wells is involved. Mason’s computer was wiped, this isn’t just him getting distracted chasing a lead, all his evidence about the Man in Yellow and Wells is gone, that is not a coincidence, especially since Iris knows he was ready to publish, he even told Eric he was almost done with something he was expecting would make the front page, Iris knows there is something going on. She also knows her dad knows more than he’s been telling her, and that probably means Barry and Cisco do too. But all the evidence is gone. Or maybe not, because Linda Park might be the sports reporter, but she had the desk next to Mason, he likes her (even if he refuses to admit it), and she knew him well enough she has a feeling she knows where Iris can find that evidence.

Cisco has to check the trap. He has to. His dreams are getting worse and worse, they’re happening when he’s awake now. The other day he fell asleep in the Cortex and when he left he could have sworn he saw Doctor Wells walk through a wall. He doesn’t know if he should talk to Barry about this, maybe he could talk to Joe, or Caitlin is worried about him. She wants him to talk to her. He has a very strong feeling she won’t be able to distract Doctor Wells long enough for Cisco to take a look and he can’t explain why, but he does know he can trust her.

Eddie Thawne became friends with Iris while Barry was in his coma. He’d considered asking her out, but she seemed to be getting closer to Cisco, and she’s Joe’s daughter so he figured it would get complicated, he’d wait for her if she wanted to. Which she didn’t, and won’t, because he’s talked to her and knows she has complicated feelings about Barry and Cisco, who are both dating each other. He’s just trying not to get involved. What he didn’t expect was Barry coming to ask him for help with everything that’s going on.

Caitlin Snow has been friends with Cisco for a long time, she could see how he felt about Iris, she’s now realising he feels the same way about Barry, and she’s really glad he told her what’s been bothering him, she just really wishes it was complicated realationship things and not how he’s been having nightmares about how their boss is the guy who murdered their friend’s mother. She might have an idea about his dreams though.

Linda Park did not date Barry. They tried one date, it didn’t work out, but they are friends, and she’s friends with Iris too. She might not have known her very long, but she seems nice, and Linda does like Mason, if Iris has an idea that might help find him, wherever he is, of course Linda’s going to help.

In Cisco’s dream, Doctor Wells calls himself Eobard Thawne and kills Cisco after confessing he killed Barry’s mother, that he was there to kill Barry. He’s from the future he says. Time travel. That also explains how future Barry’s blood ended up at the crime scene, Cisco found that. He needs to talk to Joe, Joe will know what to do.

The Reverse Flash was there that night to kill Barry. He vanished for fourteen years until Barry gained his superpowers and they fought, and he left Barry alive. Barry knows he very easily could have killed him, so they have a theory. Barry saw red and yellow lightning that night. He’s replayed the events in his head a thousand times, more, he knows he saw two colours of lightning, and he knows when he faced the Man in Yellow he only has red lightning. Someone else was there that night who saved Barry, the Reverse Flash needs him alive more than he wants him dead, and it has something to do with his powers. Eddie also knows Joe asked him to have a poke around Doctor Wells’ when Hartley Rathaway showed up. Joe might know something.

Mason has so much more evidence than Iris expected. Doctor Wells is a speedster, the one who calls himself the Reverse Flash who broke into Mercury Labs. The one whose description exactly matches the one Barry gave to Iris. And it doesn’t make sense because Doctor Wells didn’t even know Barry until he showed up at the hospital but also he showed up at the hospital claiming to be the only person who could help Barry and they were desperate so they accepted but no one else even came to S.T.A.R. Labs and maybe they should have questioned how he knew about Barry more. Iris needs to ask her dad more about him, and there’s someone else who might know something useful.

Joe West is a good detective. He tries to be a good dad. He knows he screws up sometimes, but Iris is his whole world, and everything he does is because he whole-heartedly believes it’s to keep her safe. Possibly this time he made a mistake telling Barry not to tell her anything, because Iris just showed up at his door with her friend Linda and pages of evidence that Harrison Wells is the Reverse Flash and made her mentor disappear.

They’re barely two pages in when Cisco and Caitlin knock, Cisco spouting something about dreams and Doctor Wells killing Nora and time travel being real.

Cisco hasn’t had time to even start explaining when Barry and Eddie burst in in a swirl of lightning with Barry saying they have some theories about the Man in Yellow.

It’s a long night. There are plans to make and apologies and explainations to be had, and at the end of it all when Caitlin’s offering Eddie a ride home since Barry ran him and Linda’s making sure there are several copies of this article and it is going to make it to Picture News, Iris pulls Barry and Cisco aside and brings up one more thing she learnt today:

“Henry seems to be under the impression Cisco and I are dating,” Iris says.

“You went to see my dad?” Barry asks.

“He thinks what?” Cisco asks.

Henry only knew what Barry had told him about Wells when Iris went to ask him. But if Wells is actually from the future and was there for Barry not Nora then that makes sense. Sort of. Eddie already brought up what Doctor McGee said about Tess Morgan’s death and they’re going to look into that some more. Henry also mentioned Barry thinks she’s dating Cisco which she definintely isn’t because Barry’s dating Cisco. Which Cisco denies because Barry and Iris are dating.

Either this is a really bad time for Barry to tell them he’s in love with the both of them or a really good time. This might explain why Linda has brought up polyamory a few times. To Barry and to Iris apparently.

(When Linda walks into Picture News the next day, Mason’s article on the front page with her and Iris’ names on the byline, there’s a bunch of flowers on her desk. There’s still a lot to do with this Reverse Flash but at least the miscommunication she’s been listening to has been sorted out)

#i fell asleep before i could finish this last night so maybe lost track of exactly how this was going to go #but here are some notes that got away from me quite a lot #dc tv universe #dc #barry x cisco x iris #iris west #cisco ramon #barry allen #look i wrote a thing #*

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365days365movies · 3 years

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February 3, 2021: Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

The year: 1986. A small new fictionation is founded as part of a disparate group of similar territories. Near to another civilization founded by Woody Allen (we’ll get to him later this month, whoof), a new settlement was founded by one Nora Ephron. It began with Heartburn, a rom-com starring Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson. While it was somewhat successful, it wasn’t exactly a dynamo by any means. And that is when Nora met the future Empress of her fictonation.

Her name was Meg Ryan, and the film...was When Harry Met Sally.

Ephron only wrote this film, rather than direct it. But it didn’t matter, as this film was CRAZY successful (and I’ll be watching it later this month). Some years past, and both Ryan and Ephron rose in power. Ephron became a director, Ryan became a movie star, and the two pillars would reunite for greater things. And THAT is when the future Empress met her Emperor.

Enter Joe vs. the Volcano, where Meg Ryan...met Tom Hanks.

Now, was this movie amazing? No, not from what I’ve heard. But the two new co-stars apparently made an impression on Hollywood at this point, as their respective stars would only grow brighter. And so, when 1993 came along, the three pillars finally met, and ascended to their true roles as the rulers of a now united Holy Romance Empire. And that film...was Sleepless in Seattle.

Time to witness a nation RISE. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start where all romantic comedies should start: at a Chicago graveyard!

Architect Sam Baldwin’s (Tom Hanks) wife, Maggie, has sadly passed away, leaving Sam and their son, Jonah (Ross Malinger). Sam’s clearly broken, understandably, and he decides to move from Chicago in order to leave behind the bittersweet memories of his wife. And where he’s headed? You know where.

Jimmy Durante’s rendition of “As Time Goes By”

Jimmy Durante sings us in (I love this song, for the record), and we head not to Seattle, but to Baltimore, 18 months afterwards. There, reporter Annie Reed (Meg Ryan) is going to a Christmas party with her new fiancée, Walter Jackson (Bill Pullman), which is announced to great aplomb at the party. Her brother Dennis is played by Niles from Frasier (David Hyde Pierce), and I nearly spit out my sandwich.

That night, Annie’s mother gives her her old wedding dress, and have a VERY frank conversation about their sexual relationships. It is...awkward. Anyway, the dress tears, which Annie sees as a sign. In any case, she still seems happy...I think. On the way to Walter’s parents’ place, she tunes into a radio talk show, where a child is making a Christmas wish to the station.

This child is, of course, Jonah, calling on behalf of his father from Seattle. He tells the host, Dr. Marcia Fieldstone (Caroline Aaron), that his father is lonely after his wife’s death, and that he wishes he had a new wife. She convinces Jonah to put him on the phone, and while he’s reluctant to do so (understandably), he accepts. All the while, Annie’s listening, and seems to sympathize deeply with him and his sarcastic responses.

However, Sam begins to open up, and Dr. Fieldstone christens him “Sleepless in Seattle,” after the fact that he doesn’t sleep much at all these days. His story resonates with a number of people, Annie included. A few people call in to respond to him, and at the end of the call, he describes how much and why he misses his wife. And I gotta be honest, I’m with Annie here. It is...very moving.

Damn you, Tom Hanks, it’s only 20 minutes in, why are you already making me FEEEEEEL?

The next day, it’s a splash, and over 2,000 women call in in response to this. This is discounted by her co-worker and friend, Becky (Rosie O’Donnell). At the New Year’s party soon after, she and Walter make a date to meet in New York City, and register for their eventual wedding. Meanwhile, Sam tucks Jonah in to sleep, as Nat King Cole serenades us (I ALSO love Nat King Cole, real talk) and Sam stares at the fireworks off of his houseboat.

And, mentally haunted by the ghost of his wife, he’s seemingly literally haunted by the ghost of his wife, Maggie (Carey Lowell). The next morning, he goes to help a client, Barbara (Dana Ivey), and his co-worker Jay Matthews (Rob Reiner) with a house, and finds out that everybody knows who he is at this point. Additionally, Jonah also give the radio station their address, and MANY women are now soliciting Sam, including...his third-grade teacher. Ew. EW.

Sam and Jonah next have a talk about whether or not a prospective new wife would have sex with Sam, and I wonder if sexual conversations with your parents are supposed to be this common, or if I’m just crazy. Because me and my Dad? Nuh-uh. And no worries if your relationship with your folks is like this, but mine DEFINITELY IS NOT, lemme tell you.

Annie and Walter prepare for bed, and Ray Charles sings them to sleep, followed by Carly Simon talking about the wee small hours of the morning. During those hours, Annie gets up, also unable to sleep, and turns on the Dr. Marcia Fieldstone show. During the highlight reel for the show, Disappointed in Denver notes that:

Everytime I come close to orgasm, he goes and makes himself a sandwich.

...Wow. Um. Asshole? And then Marcia tells her to make a sandwich for him beforehand, WHICH IS NOT SOLVING THE PROBLEM. Anyway, Sam is also featured in that highlight reel, and Annie cries again as he talks about his wife, and it’s a disproportionately long excerpt compared to the others, what the hell? Marooned in Miami is DISAPPOINTED now.

Annie goes to meet her brother Niles (he’s basically Niles from Frasier, seriously) the next day, and explains that she’s fantasizing about Sam, a man she’s never even MET. She’s also feeling doubt about her upcoming marriage, which is...interesting. I’ll get to that later. In Seattle, meanwhile, Sam asks Jay what it’s like as a single man in Seattle, and they have a conversation about how cute Sam’s butt is. Nice.

Upon the realization that his 9-year old son is hanging out with more girls than he is (yeah, there’s a kid named Jessica hanging out with him when Sam gets home, it’s awkward), Sam’s back in the saddle again (as the song indicates; that said, goddamn is the music choice on the nose sometimes, seriously). He calls a woman named Victoria (Barbara Garrick), and asks her out on a date.

Annie’s watching the movie An Affair to Remember (lateeeeeer) at Becky’s, as she’s lamenting her fixation on Sam, while also struggling to fully understand how she feels about Walter. Becky RIGHTFULLY accuses her of believing in Hollywood, movie love, which is demonstrated by Annie’s meaningless platitudes about her supposed love for Walter. This is while she’s writing a letter to Sam, then aborts it when she realizes what she’s doing. She sits on the couch with Becky, they mouth the words together in the movie, and they cry while I laugh, because that was funny.

Things aren’t as jovial for Sam and Jonah, as Jonah’s had a nightmare, and the two reminisce over missing their mother. Sam notes that Maggie could peel an apple in one long...curly...strip. You mean...like Annie was doing earlier? I see what you did there, movie. I see what you did there. As if to compound their invisible connection, both of them sit on a dock, staring into two separate oceans at night.

Sam proceeds to write a story for the paper on “Sleepless in Seattle,” and through some...mildly creepy personal invasion, she finds his address in Seattle, and a hell of a lot more personal information. Like I said, it’s a little creepy. Sam, meanwhile, is going on a date with Victoria, when Jonah opens a letter...from Annie.

Annie. What’re you doin’?

Jonah appears to IMMEDIATELY ship the two, but Sam quotes the coast-to-coast distance as being a bit too much, and goes on the date with Victoria. While on the date, Jonah tries to hook Sam up with Annie by getting him to agree to take them to New York City on Valentine’s Day. Damn, Jonah, you lookin’ to escape a whale, because you are BUILDING A GODDAMN SHIP

Victoria, a woman with an amazingly obnoxious laugh, does not rub off well on Jonah, or me, or my girlfriend. I’m really hoping that somehow, in SOME WAY, Victoria and Walter get together. He’s boring, she’s obnoxious, who knows? They might like each other. My ship...is being built.

Jonah, meanwhile, is TAKING THE FUCKING WHEEL of this ship. He calls the radio station once again, and Annie is alerted to this by Becky. She wakes up, punching Walter in the process (dude gets HURT), and goes downstairs to listen. Jonah’s telling the station that Victoria SUUUUUCKS, and straight up calls her “a ho.” He hangs up abruptly, and screams to stop his father from kissing Victoria. Annie, meanwhile, listens to this in the closet for some reason.

The next day, Jonah’s friend, Jessica, tells Jonah to send a letter to Annie on his father’s behalf. Meanwhile, Annie flies to Seattle in the guise of doing a story, when she’s actually going to try and meet Sam. Victoria, meanwhile, is leaving from the airport, where Sam and Jonah are seeing her off. Victoria basically implies that she’d like to ditch the kid and go fuck someplace sometime, which might FINALLY rub Sam the wrong way.

Sam talks to Jonah about the fact that he’s dating Victoria, not marrying her, and that she might not be the one for him. He also says that there’s no such thing as soul-

-mates.

Yeah, they actually did just do that. Sam loses Annie at the airport, after immediately chasing after her. They’re perfect for each other, as Annie goes RIGHT to Sam’s houseboat address. She hangs around the neighborhood, and sees them having fun on the beach together as Harry Connick Jr. plays in the background. That night, she confides in Becky about her guilt in lying to Walter.

And if I can just say this...yeah, THAT isn’t great. I get that there’s some cinematic paegentry to the whole thing, but, like...tell your FIANCEE about your FEELINGS. It’s hard, yeah, duh, but YOU GOTTA DO IT. You most certainly owe it to Walter. At least she appears to know it, though.

Annie at the hotel

The next day, Annie goes once again to weirdly spy on Jonah, and sees him hug a woman very happily, and of course believes that that’s Victoria. However, this is his friend, Suzy (Rita Wilson), who’s visiting with her husband, Greg (Victor Garber). In any case, this leads to Sam and Annie seeing each other for the first time. He says hello. She says hello. Then she almost gets hit by a taxi, and she IMMEDIATELY flies back home WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUH

We find this out later, but the taxi and the fact that all she could say was “Hello” is actually all a reference to the film seen earlier, An Affair to Remember (again, later this month). This is also part of the repeating motif that this film has: signs. Y’know, the kind of “IT’S A SIGN” thing. However, the real twist here is that the signs are the ones that they can’t see. Like the apple and the hello thing. Not yet, anyway.

Also, dear lord, An Affair to Remember is just making EVERY woman in the film cry, even when they’re TALKING about it. And every time, the men just look at each other like “WOMEN, with their EMOTIONS and their VAGOOOOOOS.” Jesus, ‘90s movies. Even JESSICA (Gaby Hoffman), Jonah’s friend, the LITTLE GIRL, is crying at this movie. JESUS, I’m really interested in seeing this movie now.

Jessica and Jonah start conspiring on how to get to New York to meet Annie, and do so by FAKING AIRLINE TICKETS OK THEN. Meanwhile, Annie’s given up on the whole “Sleepless in Seattle” thing, and goes to meet Walter for their Valentine’s date in NYC. Walter rightfully comments that Annie’s seemed distant, and here’s the thing: Walter deserves better than this. Yeah, he’s BORING AS SHIT, but the dude’s committed to her, and she’s amazingly flaky in comparison. I dunno, maybe it’s because it’s Bill Pullman, but I feel bad for him.

Anyway, in New York, the two begin to rekindle their relationship, and Walter gets a ring for her at FUCKING TIFFANY’S HOLY SHIT. Meanwhile, Sam’s THIRSTY AS FUUUUUUUCK, and is leaving to spend the weekend with Victoria, which Jonah is NOT a fan of. This ship is gonna SAIL if JONAH HAS TO FLY TO NEW YORK CITY HIMSELF

So, Jonah flies to New York City himself, in order to...meet his new mother. This movie has some VERY interesting issues, Jesus. Jonah does, indeed go to the top of the Empire State Building to look for Annie, and he asks all the girls on the Observation Deck if they’re Annie. Which, of course, none of them are. Why?

Annie’s at dinner, that’s why, and at the FUCKING RAINBOW ROOM DEAR LORD HOW MUCH MONEY DOES WALTER MAKE? Sam also makes his way to New York, probably to DESTROY HIS CHILD

And at dinner, Annie actually redeems herself by telling Walter the ENTIRE TRUTH about her feelings, and about “Sleepless in Seattle.” And Walter is a CLASSY-ASS GUY ABOUT THE ENTIRE THING, and the two break off their engagement amicably. Annie says that she doesn’t deserve Walter, and BY GOD SHE’S RIGHT. Walter’s a sweet dude. And as soon as they break up...a sign.

Sam finds Jonah on the Observation Deck, and the two tearfully reunite. And as they two unite, and everybody else leaves the Observation Deck as it closes for the night, Annie rushes on her way there. An Affair to Remember is invoked one last time, as Annie convinces the guard to let her up there. But, OF GODDAMN COURSE...she goes up in one elevator, and Sam and Jonah head down in another.

But wait. Isn’t that Jonah’s backpack on the ground of the Observation Deck?

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Yup. THERE’S the happy ending we’re lookin’ for. They finally formally introduce each other, and Sam says that they’d better leave...ALL of them, together. Love at first sight. PLAY US OUT JIMMY DURANTE!!!! And yeah, I know that Celine Dion sings the end credits song, but NOPE! TAKE ME AWAY, JIMMY! MAKE ME HAPPY!

And that was Sleepless in Seattle! And again, I liked it! I’ll get more into it during the Review!

#sleepless in seattle #nora ephron #tom hanks #meg ryan #rosie o'donnell #bill pullman #ross malinger #romance february #romance movie #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #user365

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