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definitelynotafurinasimp · 1 year ago

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“Love is a rebellious bird that none can tame”

After everything she’s been through, falling in love was the last thing she thought she’d ever achieve. And yet, even though she thought herself completely undeserving of anyone’s feelings, she still yearned for it… Maybe you’ll be the one to grant her wish.

characters: Furina x gn!reader

words: ~6360

warnings: spoilers for the 4.2 Archon Quest and Furina’s Story Quest

a/n: So I thought “let’s write something short for Furina, probably won't take too long”, and here I am now, writing this since thursday and with a total of 12 or so pages...

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

There were many things that had changed in the life of the human once known as Fontaine’s beloved archon after the waters swept through Fontaine, engulfing the entire nation as prophesied and leaving her crying on the same chair she had sat down almost an hour before, still devastated from everything that had happened, only for the water to recede once more, leaving the city destroyed but its residents unharmed…

In those moments, Furina couldn’t imagine any of her past subjects being willing to ever look her in the eyes with anything but scorn again, considering how she had lied to them all for hundreds of years, pretending to be their Archon when she was nothing more than a normal human girl drawing nearer and nearer to unavoidable doom… She couldn’t imagine things to turn better in her personal life at all either, having been sentenced to death in front of everyone not too long ago… and yet here she was, reading through the script passed to her by the director, being asked for her opinion and recommendations the same way as when she was still putting on that horrible masquerade.

“My eyes can’t spot any glaring sins in writing in this dialogue… in other words, it’s good, as expected from someone as talented as you, director”, Furina responded once her eyes finally separated from the sheets of paper, catching herself falling back into those theatrical speech patterns she had grown so accustomed to, her lips curling into a polite smile as the director thanked her before quickly moving on to talk to another person.

It had taken Furina quite some time to return to the world of acting, and even after her appearance in the little Oceanid she tried restraining herself from diving head-first into the show-biz again and while there was barely a week she didn’t receive an invitation for a role for the next up-and-coming show, not even being asked for an interview first, acting played the second fiddle when compared to trying to get some time for herself. For centuries her every move was intensely watched, with the only hours she was truly alone being when she was asleep, so getting some time where she was free to try her hands at things in the comfort of her new home was a nice change of pace… especially since her cooking might have required some more refining.

But while Furina was finally free to live the life she always wanted… there still weren’t that many people she could call her friends. The traveler and their companion always on all sorts of adventures, while she still hesitated to reach out to her past colleagues, doubting if they even still wanted her around in the first place.

“Mhm, how could I forget I was dealing with the greatest of actors in all of Teyvat, just remember to look at the stairs the next time we’re on stage, we don’t want a repeat of last time, don’t we?”, the voice of one of her fellow actors rang out, causing Furina to look at the source of the sound, only to see a small group of her coworkers huddled around each other, joking and teasing around while rehearsing their lines and laughing at all kinds of stories of their past and inside jokes… both things still seemingly far out of reach for herself, at least for now. She didn’t like to admit it, but she felt a bit jealous.

Suddenly feeling out of place, Furina forced her eyes back onto the papers in her head, trying to read through her scenes once again, only to find her mind filled with all kinds of different thoughts.

Which sauce should I be trying today? Bolognese? Alfredo? Something new might be nice… but do I really feel like experimenting today? Maybe I should just go out to eat once in a while. It felt like a lifetime since I last visited that bakery near the city center… oh yeah, they shut down a generation ago.

Before she knew it, she sunk further and further into her thoughts, only to suddenly be startled when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, causing the culprit to follow suit.

“Oh, sorry! I was just trying to tell you that today’s rehearsal was over, but you seemed spaced out, so I thought…”, you apologized after quickly pulling your hand away, a look of slight embarrassment on your face before it quickly disappeared again, replaced by a smile that made her heart stop. For a split-second, Furina was about to refute your claim of her spacing out in public, her mouth still working on her centuries old autopilot, only for her to stop herself before a tone could come out, giving you a silent nod of her head.

But while this had ought to be it with your conversation for the day, Furina’s mouth refused to close, the realization that if she didn’t do anything about it, she was just going to go home, do the same thing she always did, eat the same meal she had… admittedly grown a bit sick off, even though she’d rather walk through hell and back before admitting to that flying companion of the traveler that they may have been somewhat right to judge her cooking skills, and get not a single step closer to finally using the chance at living the human life she had always wanted, instead just wasting her days with no meaningful connections until her time would run out quickly dawning on her.

And so, before any of her anxieties could stop her words were pouring out of her mouth once again.

“Do you have some spare time to rehearse our dialogues? I didn’t have the chance to see you in action yet, and I’d like to see if you’re worthy of acting alongside me.”

If it wasn’t for her self-control returning to her body at that exact moment, she would have facepalmed herself with enough force to leave an imprint, the cocky remark at the end a textbook example of the bad habits she still struggled getting rid off.

Surprisingly enough however, you didn’t seem insulted, nor disgusted by someone like her, who could not even do anything but watch in her nation's biggest crises, having the galls to look down on someone else. A grin that stretched from ear to ear finding itself on your face instead, your hand reaching out almost instantly as you offered her a handshake.

“Sure, Miss Furina, let me show you what I’m made of.”

Before she could think things over however, her hand had already grown a mind of its own, shaking yours as she spouted out another confident boast.

“Are you out of your mind?! What good does it do to anyone if you go and throw your life away in a pointless duel? You could have at least asked me for my opinion before challenging him out of nowhere!”, you snapped, a mixture of anger and desperation seeping through your voice as you took a step towards Furina, leaning slightly forward, only to jerk back when she did the same, almost making your foreheads collide.

“I don’t belong to you, I don’t have to ask you for permission for anything. Challenging him might not have been the right course of action, I admit that, but at least it is an action. You hear the townsfolk weep whenever he and his band of mercenaries march into the townsquare and extort them for all their worth. So I’m not going to apologize for trying to help instead of just watching from the sidelines as you love to do”, before you could manage to say another word, Furina had turned around and stamped away, completely ignoring you calling out her name before you were all one… once again.

“Well, you are quite talented, I have to admit. I can see why you were hired to play alongside me. Although you still have a long way ahead of you if you wish to get as good as me”, Furina spoke half-jokingly, she never doubted your acting skills in the first place, she had heard of how talented you were after all, but given her excuse earlier, that wasn’t exactly something she could admit.

“Thanks Miss Furina, it’s an honor to hear someone like you say that. I hope I’ll be able to improve my acting while working alongside you”, you were quick to respond, putting your hand on your chest before giving her a small bow, leaving the actress stumped by your sudden modesty.

What’s this? Where are the competitive remarks you had been spewing out during the entirety of your private rehearsal? Why are you so… modest now?

Furina’s expression must have done a great job at revealing her inner monologue as you were quick to respond.

“Is something the matter, Miss Furina?”, you asked in the same calm tone, only for her to quickly turn her head away, as she realized she had been staring.

“N-nothing”, Furina responded in a subdued manner, looking out of the window and watching the streets grow less and less populated as the sun started to set, painting the skies in colors that made her want to whip out her camera and snap a picture or two.

As the silence stretched longer however, and the colors faded from the skies, Furina was teleported back into reality when your footsteps echoed through the room, approaching the front door one step at a time, causing her to turn around to face you once again.

“Thanks a lot, Miss Furina. I’ve learned a lot today”, you stated with a small smile, your hand already touching the doorknob when Furina interrupted your exit.

“Let’s go home together, I’m not too fond of the city's alleyways once they get covered in darkness”, she suggested. The phrase “not too fond” being a bit of an understatement considering her run-in with near death all those moons ago. And yet, Furina couldn’t help but feel a bit silly for asking you to accompany her, she was an adult after all, one that didn’t have that much of a chance to live life yet, but one nonetheless. But before she had the chance to open her mouth and spout an excuse you were already holding the door open for her, gesturing her to step out first.

“And we’ve arrived”, Furina announced, stopping in her tracks so suddenly that it took you a few steps to realize she was no longer by your side, quickly turning around and seeing her proudly point at the building in front of you. It was a lot smaller than you expected, considering she was the previous Archon and still widely appreciated as an actor. The burning lights in one of its windows made it pretty clear that her apartment wasn’t the only one in the building. But it was far from shabby. It had a nice exterior, was located near the city center and only a few steps away from some major shops, a nice house all in all.

“What? Left speechless by my abode? You flatter me”, she asked theatrically once the silence grew a bit too long to be considered anything but awkward, her voice hiding the faintest hint of nervousness.

“It’s pretty, I wish I’d have a place from which everything was as quickly reachable as from here”, you responded, a polite smile making its way onto your face as Furina’s head tilted by a bit.

“Don’t you live somewhere near here?”

A shake of your head was enough to make her eyes widen, but once your response left your mouth, you saw her jaw hit the ground. “I live on the other side of the city, so it’s always a bit of a footmarch to get here.”

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked you to accompany me if I knew you’d have to march all across the city to get home afterwards”, apologies quickly started flooding out of her mouth, obviously feeling bad about her previous request, but when you simply waved her worries off, she grew silent once again.

“It’s no problem. I look forward to our next rehearsal”, you said your goodbyes, only for Furina’s voice to once again stop you in your tracks.

“Next rehearsal?”

At that exact moment, something in your brain clicked. Today was a one off thing, you had proven your worth as an acting colleague after all, so there was no reason for this to continue. The realization hit like a rock, you had enjoyed it after all, even if you had once again fallen into your old habits of becoming too boastful and competitive once your rehearsal’s started to get into motion.

“Sure, see you tomorrow!”, just as you were starting to think about breaking the silence by apologizing, her voice rang out to snap you out of it, a small smile on her face once you dared to look back up at her.

“Good work as always, Miss Furina. It really felt like I was talking to another person just now”, words of praise left your mouth in place of the line you were actually supposed to say, catching her completely off guard to the point her cheeks started to blush a bit.

"T-Thanks? Did you forget your line all of a sudden or did the script change?”, she shot back with a tease, hoping it would be enough to serve as a distraction from her face. Instead of making your eyes look away however, your stare grew more intense, to the point she was fearing she might have said something very insensitive.

“I don’t forget my lines, Miss Furina, that’s not something that happens. Scratch that, I don’t forget lines at all, I’m pretty sure I could recite your part from memory at this point”, you shot back with a big grin on your face, your competitive spirit seemingly having been reawakened.

While Furina herself liked to indulge herself in boasting about her skills from time to time, she learned that there came a time when words alone were no longer satisfactory and had to be backed up by actions, so when she heard your remark she didn’t hesitate for even a second to take you up on it, laughter escaping her mouth as she struck a confident pose.

“Heh, well then, bless me with your performance, oh great and mighty one.”

What followed was silence, as you seemed to get lost in thought, your ear-to-ear grin slowly vanishing as your face returned to normal, but once the actress was finally about to offer you a chance out, you started your monologue. One, which while only seeming slightly familiar to her at first, quickly crystallized itself as none other than her character’s from the little oceanid. And while Furina had to admit to herself that you did a pretty good job remembering it, not only knowing what to say, but also when to pause, making it appear as easy as reading it from a script, the way you tried to imitate her voice even if yours was so different from hers made the corners of her lips curl into a smile. Whether it was out of admiration or meant as a parody of her she didn’t know, what she did know however, was that she couldn’t be angry at you even if you were trying to make fun of her, simply finding herself smiling at the thought.

“So you’re either so obsessed with the idea of impressing me that you learned every single one of my lines from heart, or you’re secretly my biggest fan”, Furina joked, only to find you shooting her a smile.

“I couldn’t help it, the little oceanid was just too good for me not to watch it more than once”, you refuted her accusation, finishing the graceful bow you had tried performing before being interrupted by the person in front of you.

“Well, Miss Furina. You’ve heard my rendition of your lines, so make sure to do your homework and read some of mine. Or are you scared you wouldn’t manage it as stunningly as me”, you challenged her before quickly putting on your jacket, opening the door and holding it open until the two of you had stepped outside.

There was no rational reason for her to accept. Taking on extra work when she already had to study enough lines for the play for no other reason than to fuel your urge for competition? That sounded a bit too absurd, even for her. Especially for her.

“Well, let yourself be amazed. Just don’t come crawling to me afterwards begging me to stop humiliating you so thoroughly.”

As Furina silently watched you chop together whatever ingredients she found at home from the dinner table, she couldn’t help but think about how wrong what was supposed to be nothing but another one of your private rehearsals had turned out…

“Bravo! It almost felt like looking into a mirror”, you exclaimed while clapping once Furina had finished reciting your lines perfectly, striking a pose that practically screamed at you to praise her more, a request you were all too willing to indulge her in.

“I’m starting to worry for every actor’s career, considering how you seem to be able to play every role you can get your hands on, Miss Furina”, you continued, only for her face to get happier with each passing word, before eventually raising her hand.

“This should suffice. Do not fret for your career, I’ll make sure to secure you a role alongside me if you ever find your pool of possibilities to suffer from a drought.”

You had a fully prepared response ready, but when you noticed the dark clouds covering the usually colorful sky, you quickly sidelined your current thoughts, choosing to focus on what seemed important.

“It might not be a bad idea to finish for today. It seems like it’s going to rain… and quite a lot at that”, you stated before pointing out of the window, causing Furina’s eyes to wander to where you’d been pointing, only for her to let out a deep groan.

“Rain? Why now? Couldn’t it have rained at night?” She complained to no one in particular, turning around and grabbing her jacket, giving you a small smile as you held the door open once again before speaking up.

“You should head straight home, or else you might not make it before the rain starts.”

“Heh, I’m not made out of sugar. I’ll be fine”, you joked in a confident tone, almost as if challenging the sky to try and wash you away with a flood, ignoring her attempts at playing the voice of reason…

“How’s the rain?”, you asked from the other room, trying your hardest to multitask everything from holding a conversation, walking around the kitchen, peeling some potatoes, cutting a carrot or two and not starting a house fire by accidentally leaving the stove on for a little too long.

“Not great, it seems to have gotten worse”, Furina responded in a meek voice, continuing to stare out of the window, refusing to look in your general direction, too scared of what sort of look she might find on your face.

“Something wrong? You’re unusually quiet”, you asked, only to get a semi-attentive hum as a response.

If only you had agreed to go home on your own instead of accompanying her, maybe then you wouldn’t have to see the inside of her apartment. Sure, she wasn’t as depressed as she was before rekindling her passion for acting, leaving her home far more often and for different reasons than just to buy macaroni, but that still didn’t mean her home looked too much different from back then.

With how little time she spent in it during the day, going to your private rehearsing sessions whenever she found the time… which she admittedly did have a lot of, and how tired she was when returning home, only wishing to grab a bowl of pasta and sauce before falling asleep almost instantly, there wasn’t exactly that much time she had for cleaning. But it was fine, she was eventually going to get around to do it, tomorrow maybe, she was tired already after all. Unfortunately for her however, the rain came before “tomorrow” could finally make its appearance. Now forced with the choice of either letting you see this rather pathetic side of her or forcing you to go home in this horrible storm, Furina couldn’t stomach the thought of shutting her door in front of you, and so… this happened.

“Here, it’s a recipe my father always used to make whenever there wasn’t much around. It requires little ingredients and tastes pretty good for how little time it takes”, you stated before setting down a plate in front of her, meeting her glance upwards with a smile you hoped would cheer her up somehow.

“Now that I think about it, you would have loved that old man. He had a lot of stories to tell, enough for him to write a small book about them. Apparently they found some popularity abroad for a few years, it would surprise you how much it netted him. Enough to take us on a small holiday abroad”, you talked to fill the silence, sitting down on the opposite chair from her, digging into your meal almost instantly.

“Was your father an adventurer?”, Furina eventually asked, catching you by surprise as you struggled to gulp down the last bite as quickly as possible, not wanting to leave her waiting for a response.

“No, a clerk. Quite a boring job, but what his life missed in adventures, his imagination made up for”, you responded before just as quickly continuing, “My mother however was one, quite a passionate one at that. We couldn’t exactly see her too often because of that, but whenever we did, she returned with all kinds of treasures.”

“I’m sorry”, came the words from Furina’s mouth, almost silent enough for you to miss them, confusing you for a split second, but just as you were about to reassure her that it was fine and she had no need to feel bad for asking about your parents, her voice rang through the room once again. “I should have cleaned up, it’s just that I didn’t know you were going to come over today and… things have been a bit difficult.”

Only at that moment did you look around the room, trying to understand what she was talking about, and sure enough, there were quite a few things one could point out as not exactly being tidy, but considering how much worse apartments you had witnessed over the years, it was nothing too bad. No matter how much she talked herself down, Furina still made sure her home had a certain level of tidiness, after all.

“No need to apologize, it’s really not that bad, especially considering you probably weren’t too used to living alone before. If you need help with anything however, just tell me and I’ll lend you a hand. The only thing I’m judging you for are your acting skills after all”, you responded half-jokingly and while it didn’t seem to have too much of an effect at first, you did notice Furina gradually returning to her usual self during the course of your meal.

Eventually however, the storm finally subsided, leaving you free to finally return home. “Thanks a lot for today’s rehearsal and for letting me stay here instead of walking through the rain. Until next time, Furina”, you said your goodbyes only for Furina to quickly step forward and open the door for you, gesturing you to step through the door with a smile once again adorning her lips.

The following weeks brought surprisingly little changes to Furina’s schedule, something that would have usually meant a lot of discontent from her side, considering how she liked to spice things up every now and again, detesting the idea of living through the same cycle day in and day out. And yet, she found herself rather content with it all. And although your private rehearsals still continued outside of your normal one’s, they strayed further and further from their original goal as time went on, both of you starting to simply use it as a convenient excuse to hang out instead of solely using it to rehearse.

And so, after you had managed to rehearse the few remaining lines until you knew them from both heart and memory, the two of you still found yourself with a lot of time left, the sun still far from setting as it illuminated even the least accessible corners of Fontaine. Furina had nearly suggested parting for the day, when you had come up with a different idea, one she found herself easily getting on board with.

“Would you like to go eat somewhere? I feel like I’m starving”, if it hadn’t been for the sound of your stomach rumbling, Furina could have caught herself thinking you were simply too shy to ask her to spend a bit more time together, and while your face was as red as she imagined her own would be when asking you out on a date, it was a safe bet to say you blushing probably had a lot more to do with the previously mentioned reason than with anything romantic.

And here you were now, sitting at a table for two in a cafe she had always wanted to visit but didn’t find the time to, Furina already having placed her order while you still struggled with choosing what you’d like to eat, intensely staring at the menu in your hand while subconsciously making a… rather cute face. It had taken her quite a bit of convincing to make the cafe owner accept money from her, arguing that there was no reason to treat her any differently from the other citizens since she wasn’t their Archon any more, but even then the two of them could only agree on a discount, and yet all the conflicted feelings the undeserved, preferential treatment made her feel, vanished into thin air while she observed you, a small smile making its way onto her face when your eyes widened the moment they skimmed over the parfait section.

“Looks like you made your decision”, she joked as you got startled by the sound of her voice, your face turning red as you avoided eye-contact.

“No, I was just wondering why they were selling parfaits in a cafe like this. I doubt there’s any children visiting this place”, you argued back, only for the blue-haired girl's smile to get ever so slightly bigger.

Oh my, what happened to your usual self? Was all it took for you to get self-conscious to be surrounded by strangers in a public place? If so, she was surprised you could walk onto the stage as easily as you did, never so much as showing the slightest hint of nervousness while acting.

“Excuse me, could I have two parfaits please”, she asked the server passing by, only to receive a nod of acknowledgement before they wrote something down.

“Didn’t you already order something?”, was all you had to ask, the slightest hint of teasing in your voice, only for Furina to give you a small smile in return.

“Just demonstrating how easy it can be to pick something. Did it help?”

When she saw you struggle not to smile at her comment, she couldn’t help but congratulate herself by taking a sip of her drink and before she knew it, you had finally managed to order a drink, only for her second order to arrive merely moments after you had done so. Without saying a word, she slid one of the two desserts over to you before quickly making up an excuse to appease your mind.

“I may have ordered a bit too much for myself, would you mind sharing?”

When you finally finished your act of reluctantly accepting the food and took your first bite, only to throw any semblance of ego out of the window as you practically began melting in front of her the second your spoon made contact with the inside of your mouth. It was then that Furina caught herself shamelessly staring at you, ignoring her own food entirely as her stomach was filled with butterflies at the sight of how happy you were. It was cute, there was no use in calling it anything else anymore, and the thought that you were this happy just because of her filled her with an indescribable feeling. Sure, there had been many times she inspired positive feelings in others, but never before in her entire life was it anyone she considered close, so knowing she could make your days a little brighter with small deeds like these gave her hopes that she wasn’t completely without a purpose in life.

She hadn’t even noticed her mouth slightly opening before your voice had brought her back to reality, instantly causing her to turn away as her face heated up.

“Do I have something on my face?”, you asked, only for Furina to try her best at playing it off, nervously piecing her response together word for word until she had found something workable, something that allowed the day to continue for a little bit longer before you eventually had to part ways.

As time went on, both of you began to care less and less about the big show on your doorstep, you had spent more time than anyone reciting your lines, learning them until you knew them better than their author, studied your choreography until you were certain you would be able to seamlessly perform your roles even in pitch-black darkness and were instead spending most of your time together doing what you wanted, already having practiced everything there was...

Well, there was one more scene left for the two of you to rehearse. One you two had procrastinated on for weeks. Was it because it was the final scene in the play or because the longer Furina got to know you, the more nervous she became whenever it got closer. You had miraculously avoided having to rehearse it with the others around, Furina bluffing her way out of it by telling the director doing so was just a waste of time, since it only required the two of you and you had practiced it often enough in private for there to be any need. The whole discussion was embarrassing, but far less mentally scarring than it would have been if she hadn’t said anything.

That being said, today was the last chance to rehearse it, and while neither of you had any problems with anything up until now, you could see her grow more and more tense with every word you spoke.

“I have many regrets in my life, whether one of my many mistakes and shortcomings, or moments in which I stood and watched while I should have acted. I chose to follow you, even though it meant I’d see many of those I treasured the most leave without saying their goodbyes. I fought with you at least as often as I fought by your side, often facing death head on, and still I wear more scars on my heart than on my body”, you spoke with an aura of certainty, one that forced people to listen whether they wanted to or not, your voice was strict as if lecturing someone yet still carried a hint of gratitude, one getting more noticeable once your face softened, “And yet, if I were given the chance to go back in time and change things, I wouldn’t. Because no matter how much misery this path I took led me to, it also allowed me to stay by your side, something I wouldn’t trade for anything this world has to offer.”

“Why?”, Furina asked in a tone that was as soft as it was confused, only for you to smile in response, one, while amused in nature, still shined as radiantly as a stagelight.

“Because I love you.”

Furina was a masterful actress, being able to come up with suitable responses on the go and, with the exception of a few cases, never breaking character. And yet, even though she knew fully well what the script intended for you to do, when you started to slowly lean in, she just couldn’t do it, shutting her eyes in embarrassment as her face turned red enough to match a tomato.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t!”, she practically screamed in your face, only to immediately apologize, feeling herself shrinking as she wished for nothing more than to sink through the floor. And yet, her wish wasn’t granted, and instead she found herself still standing in front of you the next time she opened her eyes, just in a far more pathetic manner than previously.

When Furina looked up at your face however, the shocked look on your face spoke more than a million words, your questions being so clearly on display that they might as well just be written all over your forehead.

“No problem, I’m sure it must be awkward to do this with a friend, even if it’s just for show… Ah, just imagine someone else, like a-... celebrity you had a crush on… or a cardboard cut-out of yourself”, you tried to lift the mood with a small joke, barely managing to raise the corners of your lips yourself when you saw her still worried face.

“I-... never did this before”, Furina murmured out, barely loud enough for it to be intelligible, and yet, you picked up on it, immediately raising your eyebrows.

“Kiss someone for a play?”, you asked, only for the former Archon to shake her head, her face turning a deep red as you saw her struggle to speak.

“Kiss… someone.” It shouldn’t be such a big deal, she spent the last 500 years playing the role of the Archon of Fontaine, never as much as making a single meaningful human connection, so her not having a slither of romantic experience was nothing surprising. Kissing anyone else for a play also wouldn’t have been that difficult, since Furina was sure she’d be able to enter her professional mode and just see it as a normal part of her career, and yet, with you, she found the task almost insurmountable, her heart beating with such ferocity and pace that it was a wonder you couldn’t hear it while she grew so nervous that it became difficult to breathe whenever you said or did anything romantic… even if it was clearly just part of the script.

“Oh”, was all you managed to say, a downcast expression setting on your face for a split second before it quickly vanished, replaced with an apologetic smile. “I’m very sorry I have to be your first, I’m sure you’d want to save it for someone special, but considering we don’t have any rehearsals until the show anymore we have to practice the scene today”, you stated only for worry to once again fill your mind when Furina didn’t seem to react at all, simply having shut her eyes while taking deep breaths, only to suddenly spring in action the moment you opened your mouth to say something once again, pressing her lips against yours with such determination that it took you completely off-guard, before eventually pulling away.

“There’s no one else I’d want to give my first kiss to more than you”, Furina spoke, having summoned enough courage to finally speak again, although her voice was still somewhat shaky. It took you a few moments to finally comprehend what was happening, although by the time you did, she had already started her next sentence.

“I love you. I don’t know for how long, but I know why. I love to make you smile, I love to hear your laugh. I love that you didn’t judge me no matter how arrogant and overly brazen I can be from time to time or no matter what a mess I am outside of acting. Without you my only interactions would either be for work or with the shop owner. I’ve learned and experienced so much these past few months, and I know it wouldn’t have been possible on my own. You confide in me so much, and I wish for nothing more than to finally start doing the same, but I still can’t bring myself to do it when there’s just the smallest possibility of us not seeing each other again once this play is done. So will you please tell me how you feel so I can put either my wishes or fears to rest?”

Now that Furina voiced her feelings, she felt herself deflate like a balloon, all of her summoned courage leaving her body as she started to squirm at how cheesy she sounded, but before she could fall into old habits and start looking for an escape, she was brought back to reality by the feeling of her hands being taken into yours, causing her to look up for a split-second, one long enough for you to give her your answer by placing your lips on her’s.

“Was that enough to get my feelings across, Furina?” The moment the words left your mouth, Furina embraced you in a hug, holding onto you as if her life depended on it before you quickly put your arms around her as well, only for the sound of her sobbing to cause a mixture of worry and confusion to flare up inside of you. Just as you were about to comfort her however, you were interrupted by a giggle, faint at first but growing louder until Furina was laughing to herself in between her tears, her lips curled into a genuine smile as she pulled back and looked you in the eyes, her own slightly puffy.

“We can celebrate later, we still have a scene to practice.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #furina x you #furina #furina x y/n #furina x reader

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amyispxnk · 6 months ago

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My Kind of Woman

Chapter 5: Collide

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - Joel makes up for the time he stood you up.

A/N: just wanted to say a big thank you for the support on this series so far! love u all<3

also im so excited for this chapter because they’re finally starting to (officially) like eachother guysss ahh

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, a few dirty thoughts (because what is this fic without them), slight language

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Also this chapter has a song..!

The next week, you have another lighter schedule - two patrols and three nights at the Tipsy Bison. Unfortunately though, your first patrol is on Monday morning at the ass-crack of dawn, and Joel can definitely tell that you’re not a morning person from it.

“So today we’re heading out to-” he begins, and you cut him off.

“I know, Joel.” You sigh heavily, getting annoyed just from that in your grumpy state. He doesn’t take it personally though, quickly deducing what’s wrong.

“Not a morning person, I take it?” He chuckles, and you just nod, taking another large swig of your coffee before screwing the lid back on and going over to May, your mare, to prep her for the patrol.

He does the same, keeping conversation light and just asking about your supplies and whatnot, still receiving a little attitude from you despite his efforts, before the two of you exit Jackson’s gates once more.

After almost an hour of riding, the sun is close to being fully risen and you find yourself watching it with awe. You never really took the time to watch the sun rise, but it really was beautiful, especially out here with no distractions or pollution to ruin the view of it.

“It’s so pretty.” You find yourself commenting, and Joel looks over at you, seeing the view which you’re talking about.

“I guess. I can think of something prettier, though.” He murmurs, staring directly at you. You turn to face him and realise what he’s done, smiling shyly before averting your gaze once more.

“So, where’s that music store you were talking about last time?” You ask.

“It ain’t this way, so I don’t think we could go today. We could try go on Thursday’s patrol, though. ‘S just a little ways past that town we cleared.” Joel replies, to which you nod.

“Guess we’ll go then.”

That morning’s patrol is fairly quick and quiet, a few straggling runners dotted around the outlook you two end up at, and nothing more.

You get back to Jackson just before lunchtime and return your horses and weapons. You’re tending to May, giving her a treat and combing her mane, when Joel enters the stables.

“Hey.” He says, voice gruff and nervous, almost.

“Hey,” you smile, turning to face him, “what’s up?”

“Nothin’, just.. It’s lunchtime.”

You nod slowly, a little confused. He picks up on this and sighs.

“Wanted to ask if you.. if you wanted to come over for lunch. Ellie’ll be there too… Thought it might be nice.” He mumbles, not able to meet your eye as he braces himself for rejection.

“That sounds great! I’d have to get changed and stuff, so I could be over in maybe.. Half an hour?” You say, smile wider now, and he finally looks back up at you, trying to hide his surprise.

“Yeah- yeah. That sounds good. See you then.” He says, giving you a wry smile before leaving you in the stables, hurrying back home to get everything ready for you. It was a last minute decision, and he was honestly already regretting it, but he just wanted to spend more time with you. Even though the two of you had just spent almost 4 hours together, he needed more.

Ellie’s surprised to see him in such a rush, and to see him in the kitchen actually cooking something for once.

“Dude.. what are you doing?” She laughs as she watches him pull out a pot and almost throw open the fridge door.

“I invited her over for lunch. Dunno what I was thinking.” He grumbles, squeezing his eyes together and pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation when Ellie cheers and whoops excessively.

“You finally did it! Oh my god. It only took you 10 years.” She smirks, sitting at the island and watching him grab the most random ingredients, as if they’ll make something good when he puts them together. Her brows furrow before pity floods her system, and she gets up with a deep sigh.

“Okay, what are you actually doing..?” She says, rounding the island and coming to his side.

“I don’t.. I don’t know,” he sighs, “this is gonna be shit.”

“Not if I can help it.” She says, determined to not let this fail. “Just.. gimme 20 minutes and I can make something good.”

“You want any help, or-”

“No! You have to go get ready for your date!” She says abruptly, cutting him off and grinning slyly when he starts going red at her words.

“It’s not a date.. She’s just coming over for lunch. You’re gonna be here anyway…” He mutters, turning and going upstairs to get ready nonetheless.

“You keep telling yourself that, old man.” She smirks, getting herself busy with the cooking.

20 minutes later, Joel comes downstairs freshly shaved and changed into some better clothes than the ones he wore for patrol.

Ellie lets out a low whistle when she sees him. “Wowwww, you actually look half-decent for once. Well done.” She teases, to which he just rolls his eyes.

“What’d you make? Actually looks half-decent.” He smirks as he comes to see what Ellie’s cooked up.

“I made this spaghetti for us, and it looks more than decent to me, thank you very much.”

–

Just breathe.

You keep repeating that in your mind as you walk down the street to Joel’s home. Overthinking, as always, but trying to quell your thoughts when you reach his front porch and make your way up the steps. You clench your fists, taking a deep breath before raising your hand and knocking on the door. It’s opened surprisingly quickly by a very eager Ellie, ushering you inside and informing you that Joel’s just finishing up in the kitchen. You start up some conversation with Ellie as the two of you sit at the table, waiting for Joel. He approaches with the food and your breath catches in your throat when you see him.

He looks fucking beautiful.

He’s wearing a different shirt, one you’ve never seen him in before. It’s a deep green, with the sleeves rolled up just past his forearms and exposing even more skin which you try your hardest not to salivate over, and it’s tucked into his jeans. The jeans are criminally tight on him and you quickly avert your gaze when you catch yourself almost eyeing his bulge, finally meeting his eyes.

“Joel. Hi.” You breathe, and he gives you an equally flustered greeting.

You had just changed into one of your better sweaters and some jeans. Both of them hugged your body perfectly, showing off your curves. The sweater was off-shoulder so it showed off your collarbones as well.

You guessed the outfit was a good choice when Joel’s brain visibly short-circuits at the sight of you, and he blinks a few times before he even realises you’ve said something to him, greeting you back and setting the food down.

“Ohh, damn it. You know what I just remembered? Dina actually wanted to see me like… now. So I guess I’m gonna have to leave you guys here. So sorry.” Ellie smirks, clearly not guilty in the slightest as she gets up from the table and makes her way to the front door.

“Have a nice lunch, you two.”

Joel looks like a deer in headlights, still standing by the table as Ellie leaves, the door swinging shut and leaving the two of you in silence.

“I’m gonna just.. grab some forks.” He mumbles, and you nod, watching him leave and trying not to focus on how good his ass looks in those jeans.

After giving himself a silent pep talk in the kitchen, he returns with the forks and sits across from you at the table.

At first, the conversation is a little slow. Mundane topics like what else have you been up to and the weather’s been looking good recently but eventually, you get into a flow, moving from topic to topic, laughing together and having a really good time.

“This has been great, Joel. Thank you.” You say after helping him clean everything up, much to his protest - ‘you’re my guest, shouldn’t be cleanin’ up’ - but you insisted.

“Pleasure’s mine.” He smiles softly, willing himself to not get lost in your eyes again, averting his gaze quickly.

“Um.. you don’t have to leave just yet.” He starts, and you turn back to face him.

“Got a few guitars upstairs, if you wanted to play… I know we didn’t really get to last time.” He offers shyly, and you can’t hide your grin this time. You’re finally getting to hear Joel play.

“I’d like that.” You say, and he nods, going upstairs to grab them.

He comes back and hands you one, the two of you sitting down in the living room as you strum a little.

“So, what d’you wanna play?” He asks after a minute of letting you get acquainted with the guitar.

“I actually wanted to hear you play first… If that’s okay! It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna-”

“Nah. Figure I owe it to ya.” He says, thinking of a song and taking a deep breath before starting to play. It’s a little bit of a bold choice, but he figures he could play it off if you don’t receive it well.

The dawn is breaking

A light shining through

You’re barely waking

And I’m tangled up in you

You’re stunned into silence as his deep voice cuts through the air, positively transfixed by it and his skilful playing. You’re so entranced that you barely realise the lyrics of the song, but when you do, your eyes go even wider.

But I’m open, you’re closed

Where I follow, you’ll go

I worry I won’t see your face

Light up again

Surely he doesn’t mean it. He just chose a random song. He hasn’t made the same association with it that you have. It’s just a random song.

Even the best fall down sometime

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

Out of the doubt that fills my mind

I somehow find

You and I collide

You listen quietly as he plays all the way til the end of the song, admiring how he plays, as lost in the music as you find yourself becoming.

You finally find

You and I collide

A final strum rings through the air as he looks up at you, meeting your wide eyes with his own, hoping that you understood what he meant from the song.

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re interrupted by the front door swinging open.

The moment is lost, and you blink quickly, standing up as two voices come from the front door.

“Yeah, we can just go to the gara- oh. Hey.” Ellie says bashfully, realising she’s probably just interrupted something.

“We’re just going to my place. Sorry.” She chuckles, walking through the living room with Dina, to whom you offer a small wave. Dina’s a nice girl, you know her from the school.

As the back door closes, you look back at Joel.

“I should probably get going.” You say, offering him a small smile.

He just nods, clearing his throat to fill the silence.

“I knew you’d be good at guitar.” You comment, and he smiles back at you this time.

“Thanks, sweetheart. You want me to walk you home?” He asks as the two of you walk to the front door.

“That’s okay. I’ll see you on Thursday?” You ask as red taints your cheeks once more from that name.

“Yep. See you then.”

“Thank you for this. Bye, Joel.” You say, leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, something you’d decided to do before you could think about it too hard, before opening the front door and leaving him once again stunned, frozen in place on the other side.

You exhale shakily, taking a second to calm your nerves before heading back home.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

Next Chapter

Tags- @mermaidgirl30 @tuquoquebrute @joelmillerisapunk @pascals-doll @casa-boiardi @konigslittleliebling @xxx-silhouette-xxx @hannah9921 @friskispunk @orcasoul @s0meoone

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writebackatya · 1 year ago

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McDuck Family Members Most Likely to Start Sh*t at Thanksgiving Dinner

Ah Thanksgiving. The holiday celebrated on the 4th Thursday of November (in America that is), one with food, family, and celebrating what we’re thankful for! (Wanna feel bad? Learn about the holiday’s origins!)

And no family is quite as big as the found family from DuckTales; so arguments are bound to happen at a dinner table filled with so many zany characters with interesting pasts and quirks. Let’s honor those who would throw the first punch at a family dinner, shall we?

Bentina Beakley

I wanna cut Beakley some slack. She most likely had a long day before dinner even started what with all the preparations she did for dinner. Not just cooking for 20+ family members plus other side/recurring characters but also the cleaning and presentation

But let’s face it. This woman can be so condescending at times. And judgmental. You just know if someone is showing up to dinner wearing jeans and sweater she’d have something to say about it. And she strikes me as someone who would slam the dishes while cleaning them only for someone to say, “Hey Beakley do you need help with the dishes?” and then she’d be like “No. It’s fine. I got them”

But it’s not fine. Go help her with the dishes. She deserves a break

Dewey Duck

When I was first thinking about this list I originally thought “No way any of the triplets would start anything on Thanksgiving” Huey is a good boy and Louie would definitely take it easy on a day where you’re legally allowed to sit around, be lazy, and eat food. But then I remembered Dewey and how much of a diva he can be

We know Dewey is an entertainer and with everyone coming to dinner, he has a huge “captive” audience that he can perform for. Whether it be an original Thanksgiving song, a one man Dewey show about the first Thanksgiving, a sonnet about a bonnet, or a very special Thanksgiving episode of Dewey Dew-Night; that kid will want all the attention in him. And the very second the spotlight is taken off, oh boy…

Gladstone Gander

Look at this prick. Don’t you wanna slap his face!?!Anyway I love Gladstone Gander, but he’s the kind of family member that just would go on and on about himself and bring every conversation back to him again and how great his life is

That’s great Gladstone. Happy for you, the rest of us have to pay for our sushi but cool. Glad your good luck is really paying off, jerk

But honestly. It’s his tone. It’s the kind of tone that gives off that he knows he’s starting shit but won’t admit it

Goldie O’Gilt

I mean, it’s Goldie. What else can I say?

Gandra Dee

Oh man. There’s so many different ways controversy would start with this morally gray ex-FOWL agent and I’m here for it. Let’s face it, out of all the characters present, Gandra Dee would most likely be the one to bring up the holiday’s horrible origins. If anyone is making it their duty to make a rich white family uncomfortable on Thanksgiving, it’s Gandra Dee

She’d get political and even directly ask Scrooge who exactly he voted for in the past two Presidential elections (he claims to be progressive, but he’s still the richest duck in the world. Just how many tax cuts is this man getting to keep that status?)

Oh and what about the treatment of her overwork and underpaid boyfriend? Why is he still working in the bathroom?

Oddly enough, I can see her and Scrooge bonding over a mutual disdain for Gladstone Gander. What a prick

Kit Cloudkicker

It’s not that exactly what Kit does that’ll start a fight, but what he doesn’t do.

Kit is the kinda guy that was supposed to bring a dessert but totally forgot to pick something up from the bakery so instead he’s stopping at the gas station on the way to dinner to pick up some Twinkies

Kit is the kinda guy that would “take a walk” before dinner and not do anything to hide the scent and now all the kids are wondering how a skunk got inside

Gyro Gearloose

It’s Gyro. Something is bound to piss him off at some point

Doofus Drake

I am so tired of the fandom not including Doofus in this found family (Louie and him made up and are friends now and BOYD is his brother, sorry it’s canon) so he’s here on the list

But he’s still a new addition to this family. And a weirdo and a rich brat with a lot of issues that someone should seriously help him with. He’s gonna make everyone uncomfortable. Is it intentional? Or is he just being Doofus? Who knows

What I do know is this, don’t eat the dish he brought.

Della, Donald, and Scrooge!

The original three!

These three are responsible for splitting up the family in the first place so it’s no surprise that they’re number one on this list!!

Yes they’ve squashed their beef with one another and moved past the Spear of Selene, but they are still themselves

The ones most likely to start shit over the dumbest things

These three are going to be bickering over who should carve the turkey. And the argument will be so loud and hectic that no one will question why a bunch of birds are eating a turkey

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this list. It wasn’t meant to slander any characters, just did it for fun. Happy Thursday everyone.

#ducktales headcanons #ducktales 2017 #ducktales fandom #duckblr #bentina beakley #dewey duck #gladstone gander #goldie o'gilt #gandra dee #kit cloudkicker #gyro gearloose #doofus drake #della duck #donald duck #scrooge mcduck

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clarisse0o · 6 months ago

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Camp Wiegman - Part 11

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 4k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Sunday, November 1; 7:45 PM - Cafeteria.

I deeply regret Bronze' idea. She convinced me to eat in the cafeteria tonight. I've regained some color, and she decided it was time to reintegrate me. I still have a slight fever, but my nausea has completely disappeared for the day. I might even be able to return to my room tonight and go back to class tomorrow if my night goes smoothly. According to her, it would have been better for me to stay one more night in her room, but Wigeman insisted otherwise. She doesn't want me to miss another day, not being one to grant her students absences easily. Here we are in front of the cafeteria, with my spirits in the gutter. I don't even know what I'm doing here. I have barely eaten all week. Bronze has forced soup on me since Thursday, but I'm getting sick of it. Most of the time, it ended up in the basin a few hours later. She’s lucky I’m no longer as stoned or sore, or I wouldn't have even gotten out of bed. Now that I'm standing in front of the doors, I dread going in. She promised we’d go later to avoid as many people as possible, but it’s Sunday night. Everyone is back from their weekend, so the people who eat at the cafeteria come at various times. Bronze knows these kinds of details perfectly and failed to remind me. I feel all eyes on me as we walk through the doors. I stare at my shoes to hide my horrible face. I had to make the effort to replace my pajamas with simple jogging pants and a casual sweater to look at least somewhat presentable.

"I can't," I say, trying to turn back.

"Hey, Ona," says Bronze, holding my arm. "You promised you'd try to eat."

"Do you see all these people!?"

"What people?" she asks, looking around the room. "There are barely thirty people. That's hardly ten percent of the capacity."

"Please, Bronze..."

I pout to show her my discomfort. It's not like me to beg. I feel like a weakling. However, I'm willing to do anything to get what I want, even set aside my pride. She crushes my plan by gripping my shoulders.

"Look at me," she orders, and I comply. "I promise they won’t say anything. You need to think about yourself. You need to eat."

I turn my head toward the exit door next to us. It would take just three steps to reach the hall. Bronze interrupts my thought by gripping my chin, forcing me to face her insistent gaze. I know she won’t let this go. I sigh, knowing she's doing this for my own good. I need to regain my strength by eating something substantial. It’s the first day I’ve been able to move around on my own, but I haven’t fully regained my strength. I doubt I can carry a full tray.

"Okay, fine..." I concede.

"Will you be alright?"

"Yeah..." I mumble.

"Come on, go ahead and tell me what you want," she says, pushing me toward the buffet.

"I’m not taking a tray...?"

"One for the both of us will suffice," she says, placing our utensils on it. "It’s not like you’re going to have a full meal."

I bite my lip, thinking she’s probably right. At least that solves my tray problem. I look at the appetizers while she slides the tray along the rail.

"I’m not asking you to take everything, but at least pick a dish and a yogurt. Does that work for you?" she suggests.

I nod, glancing at her. She grabs an appetizer before we move on. What she picked would tempt me if I were hungry. However, that's not the case today. The food they serve us isn’t that bad. It’s not up to the standards of what Sam makes at home, but it’s edible. Contrary to what one might think, we’re rarely served frozen food. The school makes sure to order and cook fresh products. I think that's good. That wasn’t the case at my public high school in Miami. The next step is the main dishes. I give a timid smile to the employees who seem happy to see me, judging by the light in their eyes. I know most of these people from my punishments imposed by Bronze. They were very kind to me, surprisingly.

"Your flu is finally gone?"

I frown, not understanding why the cook is asking me that. I look to my supervisor for answers. She smiles at them and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"She felt better today," she announces. "She didn’t want to get out of bed, but I managed to convince her."

"Good to hear," he replies. "What can I get you?"

I look at what’s available. Once again, the food is tempting, but the appetite isn't there. This makes me question my presence here again.

"Come on, Ona, make an effort to take something," Bronze encourages.

"Just pasta with sauce."

"No meat?" he asks.

I shake my head no. He smiles and fills a plate, which he hands to Bronze. He prepares a plate for her as well while I continue to move forward. I skip the dairy section and head for dessert. I decide to opt for an apple instead of yogurt. Once we’re done, I’m grateful to Bronze when she suggests we eat in the educators' section. There’s not much difference since only rectangular flower pots separate the two areas, but it’s better than being among the students.

"Come on, sit there," she says, tapping a chair facing away from the cafeteria.

"Thank you," I breathe.

It’s strange to be on this side, but I’m not going to complain. She smiles as she places my plate in front of me. I look at her with a grimace stretching across my face.

"Are you okay?" she asks for the umpteenth time.

"I feel like throwing up."

She chuckles at my disgusted expression. The soups may have gone over my head, but the idea of a full meal is overwhelming.

"Come on, eat a bit. I’m not asking you to finish the plate, just fill your stomach."

"Tsss. If I throw up all night, you’ll be the one cleaning it up, I warn you."

"That’s already what I’ve been doing from the start," she laughs.

I don’t retort, realizing it's true. I sigh and reluctantly bring the fork to my mouth. The first bite feels mushy. It’s like rediscovering food. She smiles with satisfaction and starts her own meal. I rest my heavy head on my palm, watching her.

"Why did the cook mention the flu?" I ask.

"Wiegman passed off your absence as the flu. Only she and the instructors in charge of you know the truth."

"Why?"

"To avoid spreading the news," she shrugs. "She has a reputation to uphold, you know."

Obviously. Interests over truth. It’s not even worth commenting on. I continue to eat my pasta, most of which sticks in my throat. I manage to swallow half before feeling stuffed.

"Do I really have to go back tomorrow?"

"I guess so, yes."

"And if I don’t feel ready?"

"Are you getting depressed?" she smiles.

I lower my head, playing with the rest of my dish. I really don’t want to go back to class tomorrow. I have a bad feeling. I still feel a bit unwell, and it’s too sudden. Bronze places her hand on mine to stop my circular movements in my plate.

"What’s wrong? I’ve known you to be more tenacious than this."

"What if I have a withdrawal episode in the middle of class? It’s not out of the question, you know that, right?"

"Calm down, Ona. Everything will be fine. Anyway, it's just a possibility. You still need to have a peaceful night."

"Can I make myself throw up right now?"

Bronze laughs softly, removing her hand. I already miss her reassuring warmth. I don’t find it funny. I’ve thought it through and could seriously consider it if it meant staying one more day in my room or hers. I have no desire to go back tomorrow. She seems to understand I’m serious because her smile fades, and she raises an eyebrow, appearing to judge me.

"Are you going to talk to me?"

"There’s nothing to say... I just don’t feel ready," I admit timidly. "I don’t know... Maybe others will figure out the truth by looking at me? I’m sure there are plenty of junkies here."

"It’s not like it’s written on your forehead."

"Who knows?" I half-joke.

"Well," she sighs. "I’ll try to negotiate one more day for you. But Tuesday you’ll go back to class no matter what. OK?"

I’m sure my eyes sparkle with happiness. I didn’t think she’d go so far as to grant me an extra day. If I had known, I would have spoken to her sooner. I nod enthusiastically, creating a mischievous smile on her face that doesn’t bode well.

"However, it’s not without condition."

I groan in frustration, letting my head slide from my palm. Damn, it was too good to be true! I sit up to look at her with puppy eyes.

"No need to look at me like that."

"What’s the price?"

"You need to regain your strength, so I want you to finish your plate and eat your apple," she orders in a more serious tone. "If you succeed, I’ll speak to Wiegman. If not, I won’t bother. Deal?"

"Deal," I say, already regretting it.

"Perfect," she smiles. "I’ll let you eat and come back to get you. In the meantime, I need to check on others."

I nod, watching her leave with her tray. She also ate less than usual. I think she’s staying on the lookout. I prefer it that way. Once she disappears, I turn around to see if anyone noticed me. I recognize one of my friends, who seems absorbed in her conversation. I wonder what excuse Bronze used to explain my absence to them. I haven’t spoken to them since last Sunday. I’ll have to be honest with them one day. I eat my pasta, though I doubt I'll manage to finish the apple.

"I remembered Friday night. You know, when you ended up just as soaked as I did."

"Is this how you thank me for helping you?"

I giggle at her clearly exaggerated offended look. She kicks my shin under the table, immediately calming me down without erasing my smile.

"Admit it was funny looking back on it."

"How can you remember that? You were completely out of it."

"I have no idea, but it's worth remembering, I laugh even harder."

This time she laughs with me, shaking her head.

"Stop making fun of me. I have plenty of dirt on you from this past week too."

"Go ahead."

"Not now. I'll save it for when I'm in a tough spot."

"Of course, I roll my eyes."

I hand her another piece of apple, which she accepts without protest. Finally done! She stacks our plates on her tray.

"Let's go, I still need to see Wiegman because of you."

"Sorry, but I really don't want to go back to class tomorrow."

"This is the last favor I'm doing for you. Make sure to get back to your life quietly starting Tuesday and catch up on all your missed classes."

"You're really depressing when you want to be."

"I know."

She smiles proudly. We're the last ones in the room with the staff cleaning the kitchen. I help Bronze clear the tray, then we leave the dining hall to return to her room. She drops me off and immediately heads to administration. I take advantage of being alone to take a shower and put on my pajamas. A slight headache returns when I lie down in bed. I sigh, thinking it can't be more unbearable than what I've been through this week. I turn off the light and try to find sleep. Just as I'm about to succeed, Bronze reappears in the room. Her first instinct is to turn on the light, making me groan into my pillow.

"What's wrong with you? Why were you in the dark?"

"Because I maybe wanted to sleep?"

"At nine p.m.?" she chuckles.

"Shhh, I groan. Turn off the light!"

I pull the blanket over my head to block the light that's worsening my headache. She turns it off a second later and crouches beside me. The back of her hand rests on my forehead, making me sigh.

"No, I don't have a fever. I just want to sleep."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Bronze."

"Well, I'm going to shower then. Sleep well."

I turn my back to her and pull the blanket over again. I hear her sigh before a door slams. I lower the blanket to get some air. She turned off the main light but left my bedside lamp on. I hear the shower running in the next room. I can't fall back asleep. I toss and turn, but it's useless. Bronze comes out of the bathroom before I manage to fall asleep. She ignores me and heads to her bed behind me. I wait a bit before rolling over. I'm surprised to see her on a computer. In a week, I've never seen her on one. She usually prefers books. I even thought she didn't have one since I didn't find any when I turned her room upside down a few weeks ago. She must have brought it from home. I smile when I notice glasses on the end of her nose. It's the first time I've seen her wearing them. It's weird seeing her with them, but they suit her. She turns her head towards me after a moment of silence.

"I thought you wanted to sleep?"

"I can't anymore..."

"Sorry, I thought you were joking. Are you feeling unwell?"

"No, just tired and a bit of a headache."

"Go back to sleep then."

"Easier said than done. And with the light and all..."

"Do you want me to turn it off?"

I shake my head. The desire to sleep has passed since she returned. She stares at me without speaking.

"Has anyone ever told you that glasses suit you?"

"Yes," she chuckles." But thanks for the compliment. I was going to watch my series. Want to join?" she offers.

"Which one?"

"Game of Thrones."

"Oh, yeah," I say enthusiastically." What episode are you on?"

"I just started. I'm mid-season one", she says, sitting up.

The idea is appealing; I love this series! I lean against the wall, pulling the blanket up. She swings her legs out of bed, keeping her laptop on her knees. The Apple logo dazzles my eyes as she types. When she finishes, she places it on a chair she moves closer so we can both see the screen. She presses play and positions herself like me in her bed. As for me, I finally lie down, noticing I can see the screen from this position too.

"Bronze?" I ask after a while.

"Hmm?"

"So what did Wiegman say?"

"That it's okay, but it's the last day she'll give you. As I suspected, you won't be able to get out of it on Tuesday."

"How did you persuade her?"

"Doesn't matter."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," she chuckles. "The how is just administrative, it's my job. The important thing is the answer, right?"

"Hmm..."

Her answer hurts. "It's just administrative." "It's my job." So I'm nothing more than a job to her? I thought she did it because she understood me. I turn my head when I feel her gaze on me. A silly smile spreads across her lips.

"What now?"

"Nothing..."

"I can feel you thinking from here, and I'm not putting up with it through the whole episode."

I ignore her, focusing on the screen. Now I feel foolish for thinking she might care about me. She sighs and pauses the episode. She keeps staring at me, but my eyes stay fixed on the screen. I don't want to give her the satisfaction or she'll win.

"What do you want to know?"

"Nothing, it's fine."

"You're so stubborn when you want to be. Too bad for you."

I bite my lip. Damn it. My curiosity gets the better of me. I speak just before she presses play.

"Why don't you want to tell me?"

She looks up at me, keeping a neutral expression. I feel stupid. I always seem to ruin good moments.

"Because there's nothing to say. You shouldn't worry about the how. That's my problem, but if you must know, I said you still felt unwell and weren't ready. Nothing more, nothing less. Can I resume now?"

I think I made her angry. I hide the blush forming on my cheeks by rubbing my head against the pillow.

"No need to get mad. You could have told me right away."

"No, it's none of your business. The liaison with Wiegman is my job. You really need to learn to trust me."

"It's not about that."

"Yes, it is, and you know it as well as I do."

I sigh, lowering my head. Yeah, she's probably right, even if we're not thinking about the same thing right now. Now that I know she's doing this just as part of her job, I'm afraid she'll tell Wiegman everything I confided in her. I haven't opened up like this in a long time, and I don't know how I'll take it if she repeats it. Our relationship has evolved a lot in a week, but not in the way I thought.

"Trust goes both ways... I tell you things, unlike you."

"I'm not your friend, Ona. I'm your instructor, even your supervisor. I'm not supposed to bond with you beyond this relationship. I'm not going to tell you about my life. My role is to guide and help you. The liaison with Wiegman is part of that."

"You ruin everything."

"Why? "she frowns.

"I really thought you liked me."

"I do. You're my student."

She doesn't understand. For once, it's not me. I cross my arms and sink into my bed. She sighs deeply.

"What now?"

"Nothing."

"Yes. Spill it now that we're here."

"I opened up to you. I confided in you and even let you shower me. God knows how hard it was for me to let you do that! A simple supervisor wouldn't have done that! You even gave me a birthday present. I thought you liked me more than any other student for doing all that."

"You're not just any student, you're my student."

"Great, I say sarcastically."

"Stop sulking. I've always acted professionally. You knew what to expect in the evolution of our relationship. Sorry if you felt differently."

"Yes, you're right. I misinterpreted things."

She sighs, watching me. She surprises me by getting up and sitting on my bed. I instinctively pull back and turn my head away.

"Stop acting like a child, Ona."

She forces me to look at her by holding my chin. Her green eyes pierce through me.

"Let go of me!"

I try to pull away, but she releases my chin to hold my head. I can't escape her now. I could close my eyes, but I'd look even more ridiculous than I already do.

"Ona, I really like you. You're different, and that makes you special. Your case intrigues me, and it makes me want to invest more in you than the other students to help you change. However, it won't change our status. I'll never offer you friendship or anything like that. Can you understand that?"

"Yeah," I grumble." At least I won't be fooled twice."

"Don't take it that way."

"Yes, the message is clear."

"This shouldn't change anything between us, she says, making me laugh bitterly."

"It's not for you to decide."

"Ona..." she sighs.

"I got fooled by imagining things, but it won't happen again."

"I don't want you to become that insufferable student again just because of a misunderstanding."

I don't respond. There's nothing more to say on my end. She releases my head, sighing once more. She admits defeat and goes back to her bed. She resumes the series, which I keep my eyes on, trying to ignore her gaze on me. I thought we had moved past professionalism. Sure, I don't expect a great friendship, but at least a slightly more friendly relationship instead of sticking to statuses. It seems I was just daydreaming. When I leave here, she'll go back to being the unpleasant commander.

"I see the defiant girl you were in the first days."

"She never left. Looks like I wasn't the only one imagining things."

"Don't lie to yourself, she scolds. You're far from the girl who came here a month ago, and you know it."

"Hmm."

"Fine, as you wish."

She focuses on the series, creating a deathly silence. I can't even follow the episode anymore. The conversation keeps spinning in my head. Will she change when we go back to our normal lives? Hard to say, but it's scary. She's taken care of me so much since the beginning. I'm almost glad she was assigned to my case. The episode ends. Fortunately, I've seen it before because I haven't followed it since our exchange. I'm barely staying awake, but I hold on. I don't want to sleep being on bad terms with her. Deep down, I know she won't change her behavior.

"Bronze...?" I call her timidly.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I got upset. I imagined things... I don't know, I sigh. I knew what to expect, and I should never have said what I said."

"I know, Ona. Rest now, I can see you're forcing yourself to stay up until the end."

"Hmm... Good night, Bronze."

"Good night."

My heart is much lighter now. Hopefully, I'm not wrong. I take a deep breath before letting my eyelids close on their own. I feel like I'll sleep well tonight for the first time in a long while.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #barca femeni #ona batlle #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

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2024-grimoire-challenge · 1 month ago

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December Week 1 - Shadow work, Discernment, Synchronism, and seasonal depression

Welcome welcome to the final month of the 2024 Grimoire Chellenge!! It has been such a fantastic year full of fun prompts, but we’re not quite done yet! All the leftover prompts will be added to the weeks this month as bonus prompts. This week is going to involve a great deal of practical prompts in preparation for the new year ahead and to close up the year behind us. So let’s dive in!

Monday - Shadow Work/ Self Reflection and Growth

Terms to look up: shadow work, introspection, self reflection (any other terms you find while researching the terms above)

Research/ New Page - Shadow Work - you probably hear a lot about shadow work in reference to witchy/ pagan introspection. It isn’t inherently a part of witchcraft or pagan beliefs or practices, though it can certainly be a good tool to finding balance within oneself no matter your path and practice. What is shadow work? Where did it come from? Who coined the term? How does it work? What are some methods and tools involved in shadow work! How and when and why do we do it, if we do?

Research/ new page - what are some other forms of introspection we can use to help us look back at life and the lessons we have learned, no matter how old those lessons and memories are? Learn as much about as many of them as possible!

Tuesday - Discernment, Synchronism, Sorting myth and conjecture from truth

Terms to look up - discernment, synchronism

Research - there are many myths and claims that Christians ‘stole’ practices from pagans and witches and vice versa. They come generally around the largely followed holiday calendar some witches and pagans follow but also boil down to general practices as well. What are some of these? Are there some you’re familiar with already? In researching these or even other topics through the year already have you come across any of these? What are they? How can we discern why these beliefs and practices are so similar? Where and how does syncretism come into play here?

Research/ New Page - Herbal Research - pick another herb from your list and learn all that you can about it! Metaphysical, mundane, practical, culinary, medicinal, myths and legends, history….everything!!

Wednesday - Journaling for learning and introspection

Research - so we have been journaling alongside many of the prompts all year. Why is that? What is the purpose of this journaling? What is the purpose of journaling in general? How can we use journaling as a tool for self exploration, introspection, and growth? If you haven’t got a journal to go along with the prompts, think about investing in one for your general practice!

Research - now that you’ve looked into what journaling is and what it is for, what are some different methods and types of journaling? Do these require any specific tools beyond a book and pencil? What are the benefits of utilizing these different journaling methods?

Thursday - Craft Day!

Today’s prompt is practical and hands on. It’s the season of festivities and decorating. Some of us simply buy our ornaments which is absolutely fine. But today, we’re going to MAKE an ornament! Anything from twigs in the shape of a tube, to a witches ball to hang on the tree, a witches bell to hang anywhere or a decorated pine cone! Anything you feel like making to help get you into the festive season ahead of us!

Practical - along with the making of a decoration, let’s make something to eat! There’s plenty of recipes floating around tumblr and endless recipes on the internet at large, or maybe you’ve got a cookbook or one special recipe you’ve been saving. Today’s the day! Gather your ingredients and get to cooking! Feel free to share your meal or snack in picture submission and share the recipe if you’re up for it!

Friday - Seasonal Big Sad

Research - if you’re like me you may experience the big sad this time of year. Seasonal depression can hit anyone, but especially rears its head this time of year. What are some ways to handle and cope with our seasonal depression? Vitamins? Sun lamps? Exercise? Look into how to handle your own seasonal depression as well as ways to help others!

Research / new page - Gem study - pick another gemstone from your list and research everything about it! History, myth, mundane and magical uses and associations, chemical makeup and how it’s formed!

Whew! Another week down! Thank you all for your continued support and participation! Stay tuned for a plethora of bonus prompts all month long!

-Mod Hazel

#2024 grimoire challenge #grimoire #grimoire challenge #witchcraft #paganism #witchblr #2024 gc #book of shadows #dark academia #occultism

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nolita-fairytale · 2 years ago

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still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: thursday

summary: you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (four part series | follow-up to 'make my heart surrender)

warnings: lots of swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, use of she/her pronouns, the lightest of smut, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 5k

listen to: 91 - bleachers | now i'm in it - haim | bewitched, bothered, and bewildered - ella fitzgerald (playlist here)

a/n: re: the poll -- yall really said 'let this man be happy please!' and i love that for us. if you voted for the other fic, i want to reassure you that i will be writing that one right after this! please enjoy all of the fluff and joy of this four chapter fic. i also feel like i potentially robbed us of a smut scene so... anyone interested in a bonus smut scene as a companion to this chapter?

Thursday

“Alright, guys. We only have a few hours to get our day one prep done. I’ve outlined a schedule for today so that we’re as efficient as possible. Tomorrow’s gotta go smooth, alright?” Carmy instructs, laying out the day.

You listen intently, marveling at your boyfriend in-action. He’s so fearless when he’s in his element, and being back in New York just seems to bring back all the memories of how you met. It’s like you’re twenty seven again, huddling up for a pre-shift meeting, led by recently-promoted wunderkind CDC, Carmen Berzatto.

Only, you’re not twenty seven anymore and Carmy is the love of your life.

“I’m gonna start with the mise for our beef dish, so Syd, can you get working on our signature veal stock? I think we should work with one in the pressure cooker just in case we get short on time and have a back up,” Carmy directs, an intense determination filling his eyes.

He looks from Sydney to Marcus, before continuing his orders.

“Marcus, I need you to start on the ice cream today, chef. I ordered us some liquid nitrogen if we need to make more on the fly, but I’d really prefer not to.”

And then it’s your turn, and boy, do you love to watch him work. You have to fight the corners of your lips from curling into a broad grin because you know now is not the time.

“And lastly, I’m gonna have you work on the pasta. My goal is for us to get all of the agnolotti assembled today, so I’ll jump in when I wrap up with my mise to help you with that, yeah?”

“Heard,” the three of you answer in unison.

Everyone’s got their game faces on because this is a big deal.

The biggest, actually.

Representing The Bear at the James Beard House is more than a big deal – it’s an honor. Only a handful of chefs get invited to cook here per year, and after a little fancy footwork in terms of scheduling, the four of you were finally able to agree on a date with the famous organization. You’re more than elated to be a part of the team, even if you aren’t working at The Bear anymore.

The four of you quickly busy yourselves with setting up your stations. You only have a few hours to accomplish a whole lot of prep, and the pressure sits heavily on each of your shoulders. Tickets to the dinner had sold out within the first hour, which, after all the press, accolades, and media attention the restaurant had earned over the last few years, hadn’t been a huge surprise.

“Think you can keep up, chef? Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ rusty on me,” Marcus quips, already starting the playful trash talking early.

You let out a laugh, before challenging him in jest.

“Damn, Marcus. Hasn’t been that long. Bet I can still kick your ass on a ‘beat the clock’ mise, chef.”

“Oooooh. Shots fired,” Sydney calls out, joining in on your friendly banter.

“Challenge accepted,” Marcus shoots back, almost instantly.

And then you’re scrambling to get as many prep containers and a kitchen scale, as you race your friend and mentee, all in good fun.

You’ve missed this.

It’s only been a few months since you started your new job – a culinary education director at a startup intent on building more sustainable food systems. While your heart would always be at the restaurant, you’d been ready to take on new challenges. The salary pay and benefits didn’t hurt either. You were happy taking a grown-up job, craving a little more stability and normalcy – and so that you and Carmy could stop paying out the ass for health insurance. Besides, you were still working with food. It just looked… well, a lotta different these days.

You’ve missed the fast pace of the kitchen, your people, and Carmy’s desire for excellence, but it’s not like those things have left your life either. You still have them.

After you’d left the restaurant, Marcus had taken over as the head pastry chef. In the last few months, you’ve watched him mentor and inspire a new group of wide-eyed, green, chefs-in-the-making, which had made you prouder than you’d ever have the words for.

You can smell the sharp-allium scent of onions, as Syd quarters them for her stock, and while you have several cartons of eggs and 00 flour, Marcus has gathered all the milk that you’d just purchased for today’s prep.

“Behind,” Carmy says. He passes you by with a few 5 qt storage containers stacked, as he hugs them to his body with one arm.

You feel his other hand place the gentlest touch on the small of your back as he leans in and whispers in your ear, “It’s good to have you back, chef.”

You smile, turning your head just enough to lean back to look at him.

“It’s good to be back, chef.”

He presses the gentlest, slow kiss to your lips, and it feels like time stops for a moment. As he pulls away from you, there’s a small smirk on his face as Sydney shouts, “Oh get a room, you two!”

“If we had the time…” he murmurs quietly, planting one more soft peck onto your lips. His face is still only inches away from yours. You giggle in response, the tender moment filling your heart with warmth.

“Speaking of time… I just bought Marcus a head start,” Carmy teases, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize what he’s doing.

You pull away from him, your head snapping towards Marcus’ direction to see that he’s already filled a 5 qt container to its capacity with one portion of the milk.

“Seriously? Damn it, Carmy!” you cry out, shaking your head. “This is sabotage!”

You hear Marcus laugh in the background and as Carmy walks away with a cheeky feeling of accomplishment. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Sorry, babe. You can deal with a little hazing, yeah? Since you’ve been gone for so long. Gotta give my guy a head start. ‘S only fair.”

“You’re such a dick,” you scowl, scrambling to catch up.

Oh it is so on.

By the time you’re done with your day one prep, the four of you head to the hotel. Luckily, it’s only a five minute walk away, and you’re grateful that the James Beard Foundation chose to partner with one so close. The four of you pull your suitcases down the streets of Greenwich Village, before arriving at the luxurious, vintage-inspired hotel.

You’re eager to get up to your room, as you haven’t had a shower, nor a time to take a break since you all arrived.

“Woah…” Carmy says, his brilliant blue eyes scanning the high end hotel room. “You sure we can afford this?”

You chuckle, “I think uh… they have a partnership with the James Beard Foundation, which is the only way I can answer your question with a ‘yes’ without having to tell you that we have to sell an arm, a leg, and our first born.”

He shoots a half smile in your direction before letting out a whistle as he looks around. The floor to ceiling windows feel way outside of anything you could afford, as Carmy spots the French doors that lead right out onto a terrace. As you continue to explore the rest of the room, you spot a huge tub in the bathroom – something you’re very eager to take advantage of.

“Power nap?” you ask Carmy, setting down your suitcase in the middle of the room.

You’ll put your things away later.

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees eagerly.

You’ve barely put your book bag down before you’re both stripping off your jeans and climbing into the perfectly made hotel bed. After spending the morning traveling, you, Sydney, Marcus, and Carmy had gotten off the plane at JFK and gone straight to the James Beard House in Greenwich. Not only had Carmy been antsy to see the kitchen and get a head start on prep, you hadn’t been able to check into your hotel till this afternoon. You’re both spent, and you know that Carmy’s been running himself ragged preparing for this once in a lifetime opportunity. He hasn’t been sleeping all that well either– his thoughts consumed with nailing down the perfect menu, while paralyzed with indecision.

His quest for perfection had made him irritable over the last few days. You could see that the pressure was getting to him. His appetite was down, he was picking fights with you about small, unnecessary things at home, and pushing Sydney (sometimes a little too hard) at the restaurant.

But today, he seems a little more in control of his feelings, and it puts him a little more at ease now that you’re finally in New York. He knows he’s been driving you crazy all week, and now that you’re all here, he’s hoping he can relax a little.

Now that you’re here, in the city.

Now that the dinner is only a day and a half away.

You’re hoping he’ll slow down at some point too – give himself a little time to enjoy how big of an accomplishment this is. At least by the end of the weekend. Frankly, you’re glad you’ll have Saturday to enjoy the city without any pressure.

For all of your sakes.

You’re surprised that Carmy falls asleep with you during your late afternoon nap. He’s been so wired, so high strung lately, but you’ve just been waiting for him to come back down. Now that it seems like he is, there’s no way in hell you’re going to wake him up. You’re curled up together when you wake, your back pressed against his chest, his arms enveloping you. It feels almost impossible to pry yourself out of his arms without waking him up, but his deep slumber confirms your suspicions and you’re more than willing to let him continue sleeping. It takes a few tries to slip out of his embrace, but you do, and it’s off to the bathroom to get ready for dinner.

You try to make as little noise as possible, but by the time you're out of the shower, and your hair has been blown dry, Carmy’s up. You can hear the hotel TV on as you exit the bathroom and see he’s put his jeans back on. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You notice that the dark circles under his eyes that have accumulated over the years seem to sit heavier this week, as his eyes flicker over towards you.

“Damn, my girl’s got style,” he compliments, checking out your all black-ensemble. “We really are back in New York, huh?”

You nod, grinning at his sweet compliment, as you sit down to slip your white sneakers on.

“You meetin’ up with Liz and Maya tonight?” he asks you.

“Yeah. Syd’s gonna join for a bit before her thing. She should uh… be here any minute, actually.” You begin tying up the shoelaces of one of your shoes, before slipping the other one on.

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“Nah I-, I'll see ‘em tomorrow right? But tell ‘em I say ‘hello’.”

“Of course. I think they’re both really looking forward to seeing you.”

You check the time on your phone making sure you have enough time, before you make your way to where Carmy sits on the edge of the bed.

“What’re you going to do tonight?” you ask, curiously, stopping so that your body is right in front of his.

“Well Marcus is staging at per se so… I’ll probably just hang out. Order room service or pick up a sandwich across the street. I wanna run through all this shit so tomorrow goes as well as it can,” Carmy answers, waving his notebook at you.

He’s like a man possessed, but it’s one of the many reasons you love him. You pull the notebook out of his hands tossing it somewhere on the bed behind you. You place your knees on each side of his hips, before settling down on top of him.

“Think you can relax a little tonight?”

He pulls you in, his arms moving over your hips. Carmy leans in, placing a small kiss against your glossy lips.

“Think you can help me with that?”

You giggle in response, twisting your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I think… that could be arranged.”

Before anything too spicy can happen, there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s Syd. Carmy groans as you pull away, falling back onto the bed with a sigh of defeat. You climb off of him, heading to answer the door.

“Hey, you ready?” Sydney asks, as you greet her.

“Yeah, let me just grab my phone,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in.

As she enters the hotel room, Carmy’s sitting up. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he leans over, resting his forearms on his legs as he runs a hand through his messy curls.

Sydney looks from you to a somewhat pouty Carmy, as if she knows she interrupted something.

“Staying in tonight, Carm?” she asks him, as you gather your things.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, and you can’t help but notice how tired he looks.

Sydney rolls her eyes in response, “Don’t worry. I’ll have her back by nine.”

“Alright, I’m ready,” you say with a smile as you address Sydney.

“You guys have fun,” Carmy nods, with a half assed wave.

“Don’t work too hard, boss,” Sydney adds, as the two of you turn to leave. “Oh and Carmy. You’ve got a little…” She gestures towards the lipstick you’ve left on his face.

You laugh in response, and as you close the door, Carmy can hear Sydney’s ‘oh my god, you two are like rabbits’ comment in the distance.

Carmy allows himself to fall back on the bed, reaching above his head to grab his notebook again. He’s honestly grateful to have a night to himself. He’s never been much for going out, or big social events, so having a night in feels like a good kind of calm before the storm – especially because the next few days will be full of social interactions. He’d always found New York City a little overstimulating.

Between the dinner and the reception on Saturday, Carmy felt like he was collapsing under the enormous pressure – his only out being excellence. It’s not just the fact that being invited to cook at the James Beard house was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but there’s important business to announce here too. And then there’s the social aspect of it all, and he can’t help but feel like there are high expectations: from the food world, his reputation, your old friends from New York. And he wants to make everyone happy – he wants to impress them all.

Something about being back here, and being back here with you, has him caught up in his head about it all. This is where you’d met. It’s also where he’d been at his lowest – right before Mikey died. So much has changed, and Carmy feels too large for his old battlefield.

Because that’s what it had been for him: a battlefield.

A battle for his mental health, to rise to the top of the New York City fine dining scene, fighting with his feelings for you.

Over the last two years, he had learned that he didn’t have to fight every single damn day. Some days he could just… be – be himself, whatever the fuck that meant, be a friend, and be with you. It felt strange – familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Being back here makes him somehow feel like the total loser he was six years ago when he first arrived in NYC… and a completely different person at the same time.

While he was over the moon when he got the call from the James Beard Foundation, he also couldn’t fight this uncomfortable feeling that’s been sitting in his stomach all week long. Carmy had never quite been able to come to terms with the whole ‘celebrity’ aspect of the food world. He knew what he could do in the kitchen. That was unquestionable. But the rest of it – the networking, the celebrity chef circles – was the part he felt most unsure about.

Ever since Sydney’s Rising Star win, he’d let her take center stage with her rising visibility in the culinary world. Actually, he’d been grateful that she was so good at it – that it seemed like she enjoyed the part of the job he hated. There was someone to take the pressure off of him – someone who thrived in front of the camera so that he didn’t have to. But he knows at some point this weekend, he’ll have to face the music.

There were big changes coming to The Bear.

It didn’t take long after the initial introductions for your friends to fawn over Sydney. They were more than happy to meet your friend they’d heard all about, and the incredible chef who was shaking up the Chicago food scene.

“Well I’m glad to hear that some things have changed and that working with Carmy’s not a total nightmare any longer-?” Liz concludes your conversation about the restaurant, earning an eye roll from Maya and a laugh from both you and Sydney.

“Oh no it’s still tough sometimes,” Sydney says back. “He has his days. We all do.”

“Liz!” you protest, in regards to the Carmy-bashing.

“What?! You didn’t have to work directly under him back then!” she defends herself, before clarifying with Sydney. “And in his defense, Sydney, it was really our exec chef who was the real nightmare.”

“Oh she works directly under him, alright,” Maya jokes, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And sometimes on top of him, and also-,” you quip back, ready to play along.

“Oh my god, you’re out of control and I am sick of you!” Sydney exclaims with a laugh in reference to your crass comment.

“So tell us more about the new restaurant,” Maya prompts, refocusing the conversation back to Sydney’s previous reveal.

Sydney tells your friends about The Bear’s plans to expand, and shares ideas she has that even you haven’t heard from Carmy yet. As she wraps up her story, she realizes what time it is, meaning that she’s gotta head uptown soon. She really only was supposed to stay for a glass of wine, but meeting your friends has been so fun that she’s lost track of time.

“Shit. I have to head out,” she says. “But I’ve really loved meeting you guys. You’re coming to the dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Absolutely.”

“And the reception!” you add gleefully, so glad you get to see your best friends three days in a row.

“It’s been really great meeting you, Sydney,” Liz says, shooting you a look of approval. She squeezes your hand under the table momentarily, before saying, “Thanks for taking care of our girl. She speaks so highly of you.”

“Where are you off to next?” Maya asks, excitedly.

“Syd’s got dinner plans,” you answer, waiting for Sydney to provide more detail.

“Yeah, I uh-, I got invited to one of the To Be Hosted events and it just worked out that we’d be in town for this the same weekend,” Sydney replies, a glimmer of excitement flashing through her eyes as she shares.

“Damn, you got invited to a supper club?” Liz marvels. “Okay!”

“Yeah because she’s a rockstar,” you cheer your friend on, saying it so matter of factly that even a stranger would believe you.

You all say your goodbyes to Sydney before ordering food. It feels so good to be back in the city, back here with some of your best friends. Maya and Liz had been the friends that held you up, and you them, when you lived here. While you had met Liz at your last job, a sous chef under Carmy’s leadership, Maya worked in fashion and the two of you had become fast friends after meeting through an ex-boyfriend. Once you introduced the two of them to each other, the three of you had been inseparable ever since.

They had always been your biggest cheerleaders – especially when it came to you and Carmy.

“She’s great,” Maya says, in reference to Sydney.

“Right? I’m so excited for her. This is a huge deal: create her own menu, a chance to run kitchen without Carmy…” you agree, feeling deep satisfaction over the amazing people you have in your life. “We’re announcing the big news at the dinner tomorrow.”

“Speaking of, how is our favorite guy? What’s he up to tonight?” Maya asks, guiding the conversation back to Carmy.

“I told him he could come but I think he wanted to stay in tonight. I think he needs some time to decompress. He’s been pretty high strung all week,” you answer.

“Carmy? High strung?” Liz asks back sarcastically, earning a laugh from you. “I’m kidding! I really am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

Maya shakes her head, before taking a sip of her glass of wine. She’s always adored Carmy, but knows that Liz has a different relationship with him, having worked as a line cook.

“You guys are… getting serious, huh?” Liz asks, glancing over at you.

“Um.. I think those two were married after their first coffee date,” Maya adds.

“It was not a date!” you insist, shooting her a look.

Liz lets out an unconvinced laugh, and you accept defeat because you know they’ve always been right about you and Carmy.

“Maya, don’t forget. Our girl is and has always been the Queen of Denial,” Liz adds, winking in your direction.

“Oh ha-ha. You guys are so funny,” you reply dryly. You nod, thinking about you and Carmy’s relationship over the last few years. “Yeah uh… it’ll be three years in the Fall so… you could say it’s getting pretty serious.”

Your friends are beaming back at you in response to your admission, and while you’d love to spend all night talking about how head over heels you are for Carmy, you’re also kind of ready to shift the attention off of you and your relationship.

“Enough about me. What’s going on with you guys?” you change the subject.

It feels so good to catch up with your girl friends. You all agree to make it an early night. While Maya’s husband had agreed to put their kid to bed, she wants to make it home in time anyways. Liz has a date later, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped up dinner and are walking back to your hotel. You send Carmy a quick text, because you’re only a few blocks away.

You: On the way back.

New York City has always been so inspiring to you. The city itself feels alive – like there’s an electric undercurrent that always makes you feel so full. There’s never a dull moment, and it feels as if the potential for a wild adventure is always around the corner. It’s also the place that you and Carmy met, all those years ago. It’s funny. The version of you that met him six years ago never could’ve predicted this: that you’d actually get to be here together, after almost three years of loving each other fiercely.

Your friends were and always have been right about you.

Back then, you were Queen of Denial and even then, Carmy had been your king.

But you’re here now: in the city you met in, stupidly in love with the man you’d met six years ago who had seemed terrified to merely have a conversation with you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand, interrupting your trip down memory lane, as you peek at the text you just received.

Carmy: Went out for a walk and a smoke.

You type back a quick, yet short reply.

You: Love you.

When you return to the hotel room, you enjoy the quiet of the evening. It still feels like spring in NYC, so you open a window because it just feels too damn good outside. No wonder he’d gone for a walk. You kick your shoes off, placing them gently by the door, before stripping off your jacket and heading into the bathroom.

As you pull your hair up and out of your face, piling it into one conglomerate on top of your head, you eye the large bathtub you’d admired earlier. Not only are you in need of a relaxing soak, but you’re hoping you can persuade Carmy to join you – maybe even help him destress a little. You don’t think twice about it, as you strip off all of your clothes, sliding on one of the fluffy robes that the hotel has provided. You flip on the hot water, the sound of rumbling water against tile hitting your ears.

There’s a bath soak in a glass jar that you find on the bathroom counter, before adding it to the increasingly hot water. While it looks like a mixture of some kind of soak and epsom salt, large bubbles begin to form underneath the rapid stream of the faucet, and you inhale deeply.

Lavender. Vanilla. Chamomile, maybe?

The smell puts you at ease and you can feel your shoulders melting away from your ears.

It’s not long before Carmy returns, the bathtub is almost at its capacity and the bath soak that you put in the hot water has bubbled up and blossomed into large, sudsy configurations. You’ve put on a jazz playlist, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filling the small space as you hum along.

“Babe?” Carmy calls out to you, as you hear the front door close behind him.

“I’m in here,” you call to him, turning the volume of your phone down a few levels. .

You hear a shuffle of shoes, before he’s peeking around the door frame, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you. He knows it’s silly. It’s not like he’s been able to be very present over the last week, and it begins to dawn on him that he’s missed you.

“How was your walk?” you ask softly.

“Good.”

He looks around the bathroom, the air thick with humidity from the hot water. You turn the faucet off, as you’ve now filled the tub to its capacity.

“You look comfy.”

“I am. It’s a very comfy robe.”

You wait a beat before preparing your ask.

“Big tub,” you entice him, gesturing towards the bubble bath that awaits you.

“Yeah?” he asks, a half smile on the edges of his lips as he takes a step towards you.

“Big enough for two,” you nod, making your case.

It’s all the convincing he needs. You’re removing your robe, leaving your bare body on display for him to see, and soon enough, he’s stripping down and climbing into the bathtub with you. You share an awkward laugh as the two of you clumsily figure out how to position yourselves for optimal comfort. Your back is pressed against his chest, and you’re truly in awe of the large bathtub that somehow holds the both of you.

It becomes progressively easier for Carmy to relax. Between the hot water, and your naked body pressed against his, thoughts and worries about tomorrow begin to slip away. The two of you enjoy the quiet intimacy between you, the soft sounds of your favorite jazz standards, and Carmy’s lazily dragging his fingertips across any bit of exposed skin that he can.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, and Carmy buries his face in the crevice where your neck and shoulders meet.

“Why don’t we do this more often?” he asks, in between leaving a few slow-paced, soft kisses across your shoulders.

“Hm?” you hum in response. From the way his mouth and hands move across your body, and the silky feeling of the hot water, you barely have a thought left in your head.

“This whole… bath thing,” he clarifies, exhaling a deep sigh.

This may be the most relaxed he’s felt all week and he likes that you seem to be enjoying this too.

“Probably because we have a tub that I can only assume was built for a small show dog,” you joke.

He laughs dryly.

“Fair enough.”

Carmy waits a beat before speaking again, enjoying how his mind has quieted for the first time in days.

“Let’s put it on the list… for when we’re ready to move to a new place,” he suggests, quietly.

“Somewhere with a big tub?” you ask, only sort of surprised by his request.

“Yeah.”

You turn your head to look at him, as Carmy presses a searing kiss to your lips. You feel his hand snake between your legs and you begin to understand exactly why he’s enjoying this whole bath thing.

“As much as I’m enjoying this…” he whispers against your lips. “Think you maybe want to get out of this tub…”

Another kiss.

“… dry off…”

You slide your tongue against his as his fingertips move higher up your inner thigh, earning a hiss of pleasure from you.

“…not put our clothes back on?”

And then he’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues his exploration. Your head is spinning, and it’s not just the hot water that makes you feel as if your soul was set aflame.

“Yes.”

The next morning, you wake up alone. On the bedside table there’s a note in Carmy’s scratchy handwriting that reads:

Couldn’t sleep. Went to Chelsea Market. Love you.

You let out a frustrated sigh. Last night had been incredible but you also knew it’d be back to the grind today. While you’re excited for him – and for tonight – you’re also kind of ready for this to be over. You’re ready to have your boyfriend back.

read: bonus smut scene | chapter two

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #make my heart surrender

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guiltyasdave · 2 months ago

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wip thursday!

thank you for the tag @evolnoomym @alltheirdamn 🫶🏻

it’s been a rough 24 hours and i don’t know what to say, except you are so loved and so wanted here and i’m holding you all so tightly. also, i’ve been offering people to come stay with me but in a weird turn of events the german government basically fell apart last night as well, so if anyone wants to relocate to idk, new zealand or somewhere together, hit me up 🫠

…anyway, here’s what i’ve been working on:

we have a childhood friends with dave fic that’s breaking my heart every time i think about it—

…and another installment of logan and his kitten girl, only that now we’re adding a mouse girl to the mix as well 😅 it’s an idea that @sizzlingcloudmentality and i cooked up and idk if anyone else will even get it lol, but here’s a snippet—

npt: @sizzlingcloudmentality @moonlitbirdie @sceletaflores @mrsmando @jolapeno @goodwithcheese @schnarfer @javier-pena <3

#wip wednesday #or thursday

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brooooswriting · 1 year ago

Note

Maybe some really fluffy fluff with Jenna and R reuniting after Jenna had been filming for so long?

Hope your day/night is going good!

See you again

Jenna Ortega x reader

5 months was wayyyy to long to not see the person you love. You loved how much Jenna loved her job and how happy she was when she accomplished it all, but you hated that goddamn job. You missed her like crazy, sure you knew what you were getting yourself into but still.

When you heard that Jenna was gonna come home in a week you couldn’t be more thrilled. You couldn’t wait to see her again and hear about all the crazy things that she did while filming. You guys had been dating for over a year and a half so you knew what she needed after a while away.

She was coming back from filming in Hungary (just made that one up) and while on the phone you could see that she got thinner and her face was a tad colorless, which meant that she wasn’t getting the nutrition she needed. You figured that in between filming and practice, cooking wasn’t one of her priorities. Cooking her favorite food seemed like the best thing to do, you did everything to the point where you just had to heat it up when you guys were ready to eat.

The fact that she missed her family while she was away also wasn’t new but something that you had learned from the first time is that she needs a day to reset, to chill and sleep. So you scheduled them for the day after she arrived. Her family was more than understanding of the fact that she needs her rest and that you two would need some alone time after not seeing each other for 5 months. They were lovely really.

When you came home from buying groceries you noticed that the apartment was, well, not as clean and organized as it should be. Your girlfriend was a perfectionist at most time and loved to relax in a clean environment, so cleaning was the next thing on your list was deep cleaning.

You decided to surprise Jenna by picking her up at the airport. Normally you guys met at home, less people with less paparazzi and stuff but you wanted to see her as soon as possible.

So you told her driver not to come so you could pick her up. Dressed in mostly black with headphones, cap and sunglasses you made your way to pick up your girlfriend. The feeling of excitement and butterflies getting stronger with each meter you closed in on the airport. It was the same feeling you had on the first date with a person you already like, this excitement, mixed with a bit of fear and a lot of admiration.

You tried to park as close as possible, giving paparazzi less openings to annoy you two. You then waited in your car until her plane landed before walking to her gate, standing in the back so you wouldn’t be too obvious. Your leg was bouncing while you played with the ring she gave you for your anniversary, your excitement was visible for anyone.

“You seem excited to see someone” an old lady next to you said, a small smile gracing her face. You couldn’t help but smile too, a soft smile forming on your lips at the thought of Jenna.

“I am, I haven’t seen her in 5 months” you told her, eyes still dreamy. She turned to you, smiling while looking at you.

“I remember the time I was that in love. It was 65 years ago, I met him on the street on a random Tuesday while shopping. We bumped into each other and it just suddenly clicked. We are still married, we have been for 55 years and our love for each other never died down” she said, now her smile turned even softer and her eyes dreamy as she clearly thought about her husband. Your heart melted, you could only imagine that you had to look like this thinking about the actress.

“That’s very sweet. You know, I met her two years ago, on the street. It was a Thursday though, and she bumped into me, running from someone. It took us a bit to date but now we’re very happy” you shared your story while an elderly man appeared next to the woman you were talking too.

“Oh, this is Henry, my husband and I’m Margret” the woman introduced reaching her hand out for you to shake, her husband following her move. You introduced yourself too, shaking their hands.

The moment you pulled away and looked up you saw a petite girl walking through the doors, immediately recognizing her and jumping up. The movement seemed to catch her eye as she quickly looked over before speed walking to you. As soon as she was close enough she let go of her suitcase and jumped into your arms, her arms tightly wrapping around your shoulder while yours wrapped around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Her face snuggled into the crook of your neck, a content hum leaving her throat as she could finally take in your smell again.

You only pulled away when an ‘awww’ was heard from your right side, Jenna leaving your arms to the point she could look at the person who disturbed you two. You giggled as you saw Margret and her husband, causing your girlfriend to turn to you confused.

“Oh yeah, Jen, this are Margret and her Husband Henry. They’ve been together for 65 years” you told her, proud that you could still remember the date and the names.

“You two remind me of us in the good old days, don’t you think Henry?” Margret said, holding a hand over her heart. She was giving you two such a sweet smile as she looked at the way you two were still standing so close to each other that you were constantly brushing against each other. Henry gave her a nod, carefully grabbing one of her hands and giving it a kiss.

You and the brunette couldn’t help but Aww this time, your arms pulling her body closer to you. She pressed a kiss to your neck while your lips carefully brushed her forehead. A small yawn left her lips as she leaned most of her weight against you.

“It was great meeting you but I think I’ll get this one home. She’s had a lot to do lately” you told them, giving them enough time to say goodbye too before carefully pulling the smaller girl with you, her suitcase in your other hand.

“Oh, y/n, don’t let small things like distance or work get between you two. Trust me, you’ll be happy about it later” she called after you making you nod before disappearing through the doors to the parking deck.

“I missed you” Jenna mumbled into you making you chuckle as you parted to put her case in the back of your car. You told her you had missed her too before opening her door for her, then getting in yourself.

“Thank you for picking me up yourself, I know paparazzi can be quite annoying” she said, her head resting against the window. Your hand placed itself on her thigh, thumb rubbing comforting circles.

“No problem, love. I couldn’t wait to see you again. I hated not seeing you for 5 months” you told her, looking at her as soon as the car stood still at the red light.

She mumbled something before leaning over to kiss you quickly. “Oh, your family is coming to visit” you started, already seeing her face fall, “tomorrow. You need to rest today” you continued, her face immediately lighting up. “So, I prepared some things at home. Chill things of course and then we can go to sleep, you look like you need a bit of sleep and food” you chuckled lightly as she hit your shoulder.

“Thank you though, you really do know me” she smiled at you as you parked the car. “I like to think so” you mumbled and exited the car, running around it to open the door for her before getting her stuff out.

“I cooked your favorite, we just gotta heat it up. The next episode of breaking bad is already on, there’s a ginger shot in the fridge and it takes around 20 minutes for me to finish food, so you could shower in that time if you want” you said as you put everything to the side, hugging her again.

“I’ll go shower real quick” she kissed your cheek before running to the bathroom while you returned to the kitchen to finish cooking.

As you were nearly done you turned to get something from the fridge, Jenna using that time to walk to the herd and stir the sauce giving you the perfect opportunity to hug her from behind. The moment your arms wrapped around her waist you took the spoon from her. “Don’t, we don’t want it to burn” you grinned, warning yourself a slap against the forearm.

“Oh my god, that was over a year ago. Will you ever let that down?” She asked dramatically making you laugh. You pressed a kiss to her head before speaking up.

“The fact that it took you 2 minutes to burn the food that I cooked for over three hours on our second date? Definitely not” you unwrapped yourself from her to plate up the food, making sure her portion was extra big. “Now, be quite and eat something” you grinned as you two settled down on the couch to eat, the tv playing.

Once you were done you put everything in the dishwasher before returning to your previous spot next to your girlfriend. Now that you were free she immediately threw her legs over your and cuddled into your side, making your chest warm up. “I missed this, even though everybody was nice and I made friends. I do feel lonely without you” she told you, the tv now only playing in the background.

“I get that, I feel the same. It’s weird coming home without you here, I never got used to it” your voice was barely a whisper as your head rested on top of hers. Quietness now taking over the room, except for the noise of the tv.

After another episode you noticed the small brunette was nearly asleep making you smile. You picked her up bridal style and carried her to the bedroom where you carefully placed her down on the bed before going to get changed. Once you returned Jenna was facing your side of the bed, waiting for you to get in. As soon as your back touched the bed you pulled her closer making her sigh. “Another bad thing about being away, nobody carried me to bed” she smiled into your shoulder before dosing off.

It didn’t take long for you to follow, you couldn’t wait for her to tell you all about filming tomorrow but right now you only wanted her to get all the sleep she needed.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n

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disciplinedselfrya · 4 months ago

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Let's get in shape! 🌟💪🍁

Before I dive into my autumn goals, I want to be real with you, loves.

Over the past month, I haven’t been eating healthy at all, and the only workout I’ve done is my dance classes. As you’d expect, I’ve gained some fat and lost muscle.

So, I’ve decided to start a "getting-fit" journey, beginning this Monday (September 9th). ❤

Before I explain what this journey is all about, let me be clear: I’m not doing this to lose weight, get skinny, or fit into a smaller size. What I truly want is to feel strong and healthy—to be in shape. And yes, reaching my goals means losing some fat, but I’m not going to sacrifice my mental health or harm my body just to drop a size. My body is my home, and it deserves respect.

On this journey, my focus will be on optimizing my nutrition and workout routine because I want this to be a lifestyle change, not just a short-term fix.

In terms of food:

Cut out ultra-processed foods.

Drink only lemonade, water, and tea—no juices (this one’s easy since I don’t like them anyway).

Sweets only on special occasions or when I’m out with friends or family.

Limit refined carbs. Potatoes (not fried) and rice are fine. Since I’m not in charge of cooking, there will be times when I’ll eat pasta or pizza. On those days, I’ll have half the usual portion and get back on track quickly.

Stick to simple, unprocessed dairy like cottage cheese, Greek yogurt, and butter. Milk is okay, but I don’t really like the taste.

Limit nuts.

Fruits, veggies, eggs, meat, and fish are unlimited—I can eat as much as I want.

No calorie counting! It messes with my mindset and makes me anxious.

That’s it. We’re starting on Monday, loves—are you with me?

Now, let’s talk about workouts. Since school is starting, I want to keep my workout schedule simple and easy to stick to because there’s no room for failure this year. I’m not even going to make failure an option.

Here’s the plan:

Monday: Dance class

Tuesday: Full-body dumbbell workout

Wednesday: Dance class

Thursday: Full-body dumbbell workout

Friday: Cardio (whatever feels good—running, dancing, walking)

Saturday: Full-body dumbbell workout

Sunday: Rest day

You might be wondering why I have three full-body sessions per week. When I was creating this plan, I asked ChatGPT for advice based on my goals, and it recommended full-body sessions for both fat loss and strength building—so that’s what I’m going with right now.

Note: Not all my dance classes are intense. I’ve had weeks where we focused on hand movements—so, you can imagine how "sweaty" that was. 😅

If you’re joining me on this journey, feel free to adjust anything that doesn’t work for you! If you prefer Pilates over weights, go for it. If cutting out sweets entirely doesn’t feel right, then don't! The most important part of this journey is not giving up—stick to your plan and prioritize your health over the results.

Keep going! 😎🏆 Rya

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horny4hetfield · 1 month ago

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Everybody Loves a Parade - Part 4

Warnings: Mostly Fluff.

Thursday

Reaching to his side of the bed, it’s empty. I blink awake. It’s barely sunrise. I can smell onions cooking. Kicking my way out of the covers, I pull on my robe. Our clothes from the Gala are draped over the chair in my room. Padding out to the kitchen, there stands James. He’s engrossed watching the onions brown in the pan. I lean on the counter and watch him. Those tattoo laced hands that had me screaming in pleasure last night, that make amazing music, are now expertly chopping up celery. He scoops the celery into the pan. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“The smell woke me.”

“Sorry.”

“I love the smell of onions being browned. That’s a comfort smell for me.”

Stirring the pan, “Me too” he grins. He moves the pan off the heat, “Do you have spices?” Pointing to a drawer, “Ah.” His eyes light up. Kid in the candy store. “I figured that I could get the bird in the oven before we leave on a slightly lower temp and it should be ok until we get back.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

He smiles at me, “Coffee?”

Moving into the kitchen, I set about making a pot. I end up shoving the stuffing into the bird since I have the smaller hands. Being small does pay off every now and again. Putting the bird into the oven, we clean up the kitchen. Fixing our coffee mugs we move to the sofa. I power up the TV. All the local channels are showing the parade prep. The weather forecast is snow flurries and light winds. I curl up into his side. James wraps an arm around my shoulders and gently strokes my hair. When the news cycle repeats, I turn off the TV. Stretching some, “We should get ready.”

Standing up, he pulls me to my feet, “I want to check on dinner.” He takes our coffee cups to the sink. I go to the front door. There’s a stack of papers there. I pick them up and close the door.

Dropping the stack on the dining table, I open the top one to page six. There in glorious color photos is a full spread of the Gala last night. Of us. James wraps his arms around me from behind. He points to one of the photos of me, “Nice ass.”

I laugh and spin in his arms grabbing his ass, “Yours is pretty good too!” He snorts a laugh.

“We need to get ready” he says holding me tight. I hug him back. He walks me backward into the bedroom as I giggle in his arms. When we get to the bed, we tumble into it as his misguessed the distance. We both laugh loudly.

Sitting up, I look at his reclining form. “What?”

“You amaze me” I almost whisper.

Rising up on his elbows, “How.”

“Watching you this morning. Your hands. The tattoos. Your music. Cooking.” I bit my lower lip, “What they do to me.”

He smiled at me. “I love watching you. I love watching you while I make love to you.” He pulled me closer. “I am so glad that we are sharing this weekend.” He kisses me deeply. “Together.” His blue eyes filled with compassion. And something more. I wasn’t sure what I saw there. He pats my hip, “We need to get dressed.” He gets up off the bed and pulls me with him.

I pull out a pair of wool pants, a tank top, a silk liner shirt, a sweater, scarf, gloves and a hat. Finding a thong, I start getting dressed. James pulls on a pair of heavy jeans, a tank top, a thin hunting shirt liner, a sweater, scarf, gloves and hat. We both pull on our fur lined boots. Grabbing the extra warm things, we make our way to the dining room table. “Oh wait!” James says. He goes back into the bedroom and quickly returns, “Here.” He hands me a couple of hand warmers. “Hope they are still good. They were buried in the bottom of the hunting backpack.”

Smiling, I tuck mine into my pocket. “Thank you.”

James texts Rudy, and then checks on the turkey in the oven again. “You sure you’re comfortable leaving your oven – your gas oven - on while we’re gone?”

“Very.” Taking the newspaper stack to my office, I collect my phone and tuck it into my coat pocket. “I did it last year. And the year before that, and the year before that.” Collecting my scarf, “Besides, too late now.”

“ok.” He smiles at me. His phone buzzes. “That’s us.” He pats his pockets. “Let’s go!” He holds out his hand to me and we walk out into the hallway. James locks the front door. A quick elevator ride and we are in the lobby.

“Happy Thanksgiving Carl!”

“And to you two!” Carl says happily as he opens the front door.

We climb into Rudy’s taxi. “Where to?” he grins.

“As close to Hearld Square as possible, please” I ask.

Putting the car in drive, “It’s early, but I can probably only get four blocks away.”

“That’s fine” James says.

“How was the Gala last night?”

James smiles. “It was wonderful” I say. “They always put on a glorious show.”

“It is pretty spectacular!” Rudy chuckles at his own pun.

James joins in the chuckle, “Good one!”

I kiss his cheek, “My king of dad jokes” I giggle. James pulls me in closer a huge cheesy grin plastered on his face.

Pulling over, “This is as close as I can get you to the Square today.” There are roadblocks on almost every street.

“No worries. Thanks!” James says happily.

Leaning over the back of his seat, “Give me a call when you’re ready to head back. I’ll collect you at this corner.” James pays the fare, then climbs out.

“Thank you, Rudy. And Happy Thanksgiving!” I say as I climb out after James.

“Enjoy the parade!” Rudy says. He waits a moment as someone is ready to jump in almost before I’m completely out of the car.

“That happen often?” James gives the other rider a dirty look.

“Almost every time.” I do up my coat and tug on my cap. James follows suit and we head toward the Square.

There’s a check in point for Grandmother’s seats. A young assistant looks up from her tablet and looks at me. She looks at James. Her complexion fades a little. “I hate to ask, but I am supposed to check IDs.”

“Of course.” I turn to James. He looks at me. “Mine is in your wallet.”

“Oh yeah.” He pulls it out, shows the young woman my ID then slips it back into his wallet then back into his pocket. He pulls his coat down over his pockets.

“Thank you.” She picks up a walk-talkie. “Someone will be here shortly to show you to your seats.” She fidgets with her gloves.

“Thank you, and Happy Thanksgiving” I say.

She blushes, “And to you too!”

Hands grab my shoulders, “There you are!”

Turning, “Mrs. Corbett! Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Thank you! And to you!” She pulls me from the check in point. I grab James’ hand. “This way!”

She leads us past all the TV cameras and across the street to the stands setup in front of the stores’ grand entrance. We weren’t quite as far to the end of the bench as I would have liked, but, we weren’t front and center either.

“So, what did you think of the show last night?” Mrs. Corbett asks James.

“I can see why it’s called Spectacular!” he smiles broadly. I stifle a snort. “I really enjoyed it!”

“I am so glad!” Her radio buzzes. “I must away! I will come collect you after to visit the Big Guy.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Corbett!”

“Again, with the Big Guy.” James cocks his eyes at me. I just grin at him.

The bench begins to fill up. As families arrive on our bench, I shift us to our left to allow them to sit in the middle. James looks at me, questions in his eyes. I point to all the cameras across the street. “Technically, this is the worst seat in the house as all the performances will be staged to face the cameras.” James nods. “Moving us to the side means minimal camera time for us.” I reach up and tug his stocking cap down a little more on his head. He slouches a little giving me a side long glance with a gleam in his eyes. I snorfel a giggle.

He snakes an arm around my waist and lifts my chin with his other hand and kisses me. “Hey you.”

“Hey you.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

I reach up and tenderly kiss him. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

He just holds me close to him, tucking my head under his chin.

The Broadway theatre presentations start. I lean into him, “Here we go!”

He’s trying to watch everything at once, “This is kinda exciting!” After the first performance, James pulls out his phone and discreetly snaps a selfie of us. After some texting, he pockets his phone. I look at him. “The kids.” I smile and nod. “And Lars.” I start giggling. “Rob. Kirk.”

“What? Not your manager?”

His eyes light up, “Oh yeah!” He pulls his phone out again and another text is sent. He shows me the response from Kirk. A middle finger. “Oops. He’s in Hawaii.” I grimace. He checks once more. His kids each sent him selfies back. I watch him as he reads their messages. He tucks his phone into his inside jacket pocket and takes my hand.

I squeeze it. “I made a promise to you.” He kisses the back of my gloved hand. I lean into his ear, “I will never get between you and your kids.” His eyes glow as he kisses my hand again.

The sirens of the NYC motorcycle cops echo in the concrete canyon. “This is the start!” I spend the next few hours watching him watch the parade. He tries to watch everything at the same time. Somewhere in the middle I open the hand warmers slipping one into each glove. The flurries start just as the end approaches, I get a little excited. My favorite float. Santa. I get giggly and little teary eyed.

James pulled me into a full on hug. “You ok?”

Wiping away the tears, “This was our favorite.”

“You and your Grandmother?” I could only nod. He just holds me.

As the people began to leave the stands, I tug James hand to keep our seats. A short time later, Mrs. Corbett shows up. “Well? What did you think?” she asked James.

“Wow.” His face full of joy, “This is an experience. I am so glad that we came.” His arm still around my waist.

“Well, someone is waiting to meet you two!” She smiles at me conspiratorially. “Let’s go!” She leads us from the stands to a side door, down a hallway and into what looks like a conference room. “Wait here just a moment.” She leaves us there.

I sit on the table and pull off my cap and gloves tucking them into my coat pockets. “Did you really enjoy it?”

He grabs my face, “Yes!” He kisses me.

“I’m glad.”

James pulls off his gloves and loosens his coat and scarf. Standing between my knees, he pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around him. No words are needed. Just being together is enough.

I hear the door open and there’s a soft tap. James turns and Mrs. Corbett is standing there. “Are you ready?”

“Yes” I respond sliding off the table and taking James’ hand. We leave the conference room and are led into a winter wonderland. There are Christmas trees everywhere covered in all kinds of ornaments – each with a price tag. We walk slowly through them, me leading James. His blue eyes seem to sparkle with wonder. There is no one else in the space. We move past the last trees and there, on a huge chair that’s almost throne like, sits Santa.

I keep walking forward. James looks at me, “The Big Guy, huh?”

“uh huh!” I almost skip the last bit.

“There you are! I haven’t seen you in a very long time Kira!”

“Hi Santa!”

“And you must be James.”

Almost blushing, James nods. He gives me a look. I crinkle my nose at him.

“I understand that this is your first time seeing the Parade in person, James. Tell me. What did you think?” Santa leans forward, hands on his knees.

“Honestly, it was amazing.” James grins. “The balloons don’t look that big on the TV.”

“Yes, they would look smaller on TV” Santa chuckles. “Even on a big screen” he chuckles again. “I know what this one wants for Christmas” Santa nods towards me, “But what would you like?”

James cocks a look at me, “What do you want?”

I raise my eyebrows at Santa. “It’s the same request every year. Snow. From about 9pm Christmas Eve to about 10am on Christmas Day” Santa chuckles out. Looking at me, “You know that all I can do is forward your request on to Mother Nature.”

“I do Santa. And I appreciate that.”

Giving a big belly laugh, “Well, you are a very good girl!”

James kisses my temple, “Yes she is.”

“So, what can I bring you, James.”

He thinks a moment nodding. “Happiness. For my kids.”

“I will see what I can do for your three children.”

I watch as James’ eyebrows almost meet his hairline. Santa just belly laughs.

“Thank you, Santa.”

“You are most welcome Kira” Santa says happily.

I look up at James, “You want a photo with the Big Guy?”

James laughs, “Sure!”

Santa laughs again. Mrs. Corbett appears and takes our phones. James sits beside Santa and I perch on their knees. Several snaps are taken on each phone. I almost trip getting up, but James grabs me.

“Good catch there James!” Santa laughs softly.

“Yes, she is.” James smiles broadly at Santa. “Merry Christmas, Big Guy.”

Santa lets out a deep genuine belly laugh, “Ho ho ho! Big Guy! Ho ho ho!!!”

Heading back into the trees, I stop to look at the ornaments. A crystal snowflake catches my eye. I feel James take my left hand into his. I collect the ornament. He kisses my hand. I look at him. Then my hand. There on my ring finger is an eternity band with the sparkliest diamonds I have ever seen. James slips his hand around my neck and kisses me deeply. I am in total shock.

“This is not an engagement ring.” James’ eyes are serious. “I told you that I’d never marry again. But,” he looks at my hand, “this is a promise ring.” I’m confused. “A promise that I will spend every day earning your forgiveness.” He kisses me again. My heart soaring higher. My insides fluttering hard. My brain saying ‘Ok, we good’. He rests his forehead on mine, “Don’t say it. I can see it in your eyes. Let me have this.”

“Ok” squeaks out of me. “This is just a start then….”

Smiling, “That’s what I want to hear,” and he kisses me again. Deeply. Someone clears their throat. We both snicker. Pulling me into his side, we find our way out of the trees. He pays for my snowflake. It gets wrapped up and we head to the exit. The flurries have become an outright snow fall. He texts Rudy as we make our way to the pick-up corner, both of us pulling on our gloves and doing up our coats. We did have to stand a few minutes waiting for Rudy. He was most apologetic. We assure him that as long as he was safe, that was all that mattered. Getting to the building, James pays Rudy and probably tips him well. Morty opens the door for us and we quickly escape the wind and cold. Getting to the apartment front door, James opens it and we get hit with the smell of roasting turkey.

“Oh man! That smells wonderful!” I groan.

James dumps his outer layers on the table and checks the oven. He uses the meat thermometer. He smiles broadly. “Almost done!”

I pull off my outer layers and set about making the rest of dinner. The yams get popped into the microwave. The rolls get set in front of the oven vent. The green beans are set on the stove. I pull out the pie and set it on the counter.

We both clear off the dining room table of our outer layers. I show James the rack for drying gloves and scarves in the hallway. The coats get hung in the hall closet, I make sure that the heater vent is wide open before closing the door. We set the table together. My new ring still catches me off guard.

James checks the bird again, “It’s done!” He sets it on the butcher block.

“How long does it need to rest?”

“About 20 minutes.”

“Perfect!” I pull the yams from the microwave and shift them to the oven. Reaching into the cabinet, I pull out the mini-marshmallows. James opens the bag and grabs some. He tosses a couple at me, but I miss catching both. So he pops several directly into my mouth.

I had to dig for Grandmother’s carving set. “I haven’t used it in years.”

James takes it, “Wow. This is an excellent set.” He sits down with it and sharpens the blade with the whetstone in the box. I watch him. He was very intent on making sure that it was done correctly. I pull out a platter and he sets about carving up the turkey. I put the marshmallows on the yams. I put the rest of dinner on the table, the yams last. James sets the main course in the middle. I turned the oven off and put the pie in to warm with the door open. I finally sit down at the table.

He turns to me, holding his hands out to me. I put my hands in his. He wraps his fingers around my hands, his right fingers toying with the ring on my left hand. “It’s tradition to say what you are thankful for before digging in.” I just nod. “I am thankful that you wrote that note and that it snowed that night.” He kisses both my hands.

“I am thankful that you didn’t just slam the door on me. That you are truly trying to earn my forgiveness.” I kiss his hands. Then I wipe away the tear that falls from his eye.

He leans into me and kisses me. My stomach rumbles. I snort into our kiss. He just out right laughs. “Light or dark?” he asks merrily.

“Both.”

It wasn’t a huge bird, but it wasn’t tiny either. We managed to do it justice. Along with the other dishes on the table. There are leftovers that still got put away. The dishwasher gets loaded. We plop onto the sofa.

“Pie?”

James belches, “Not yet.”

I turn on the TV. We settle on watching the classic black and white Miracle movie. We both chuckle at the old balloons after seeing the new ones earlier in the day. Once it was over, James stands and goes into the kitchen, “Pie?”

“Yes please.”

He brings back two plates with pie slices on them totally covered in whipped cream.

“Did the patisserie chef have the night off?” I deadpan and blink quickly at him.

James actually snorts. Hard. I take the plates from him – setting them on the coffee table - as he was laughing so hard. When he calms, “I knew I wanted a dessert that night, and that’s all I had!”

“It was perfect under the circumstances!”

He bowls into me laying me out flat on the sofa. His eyes shining. “This has been the best Thanksgiving I have ever had.” Our lips meet. “Ever.”

My hands caress his face, “Me too.”

He grabs my left hand and kisses both my ring and my finger. Then my mouth. He shifts his leg over me and I push back. “What?”

“I gotta pee!”

We detangle ourselves and I run to the closest bathroom. After washing up, I return to the sofa. It’s empty. The flush of another toilet tells me where he is. I collect a plate from the coffee table and dig into it as James returns to the sofa. “It’s nice to have several bathrooms so close together” he says, picking up his plate and joining me on the sofa. I change the channel to the local news. The parade – was of course – the lead story. The follow up: US at the Gala and parade. We just look at each other. It wasn’t a long blip, but enough to totally unnerve me. I was the unknown woman at his side. He kinda giggles.

“What?” I squeak.

“I wonder what they would think if they knew that everything was under your name!”

I had to giggle too.

The news carries on into the weather. Full on snow fall overnight with clearing late Saturday afternoon for the balance of the week. We both look out the front windows. It is snowing pretty good. But small little flakes. James leans into my ear, “Looks like you got your wish.”

I turn my head to him, “It’s not Christmas Eve.”

I turn off the TV. We eat our pie watching the snow fall. I put our plates on the coffeetable. James stretches out and puts his head in my lap. I play with his silvered locks. I look down as he snores softly. I drag a blanket over his damned long legs and watch the snow. The day replays for me. His cooking in the morning. His hands. The parade. Santa. Dinner. My ring. I take the time to really look at it. The diamonds are set in the middle of a wide silver band. Between every pair of diamonds is a gold cross or x. I tug it off. Inscribed on the inside of the band: Tiffany’s. I almost drop it on his face. Slipping it back on my finger, I look at him. He’d not begged off dinner to come home to me. He’d begged off dinner to go shopping. At Tiffany’s. For me. I was in shock. The private flight from Denver. Dinner from the Tavern. A ring from Tiffany’s. He’s spent a fortune on me. James grunts some and shifts in his sleep, his face turning into my stomach. I tenderly caress his cheek. It’s a little scruffy as he didn’t shave this morning. I smooth his eyebrows. He sighs in his sleep, his body relaxing a little more. I sit there in my tiny NY apartment with the megarocksuperstargod snoring in my lap. My upper arms still bearing the bruises from our escapades yesterday morning. The ring from Tiffany’s wrapped around my finger. The memories of Colorado. The laughter that has built up after. “Yes, James” I whisper. “You are doing a great job working on my forgiveness.” Again, I smooth his eyebrows with my fingertips. “And I will continue to work on not taking you for granted.” I don’t remember my eyes closing.

“Hey sleepy head, c’mon.” James’s voice a sweet rumble in my ear. I sniff awake. It’s late. It’s still snowing. James is standing in front of me. “C’mon, lets get comfy in bed.”

I make it off the sofa. James’ arm guides me to the bedroom. I tug off my shirt just inside the door. James pulls his off. I sit on the bed and pull off my pants. James is stretching right in front of me. I undo his pants and they fall off his hips. James reaches behind me to flip the covers down, “In we go.” He guides me back into his body. I tuck my feet under the covers. He pulls the covers up over us. I curl up around his arm which doubles as my pillow. He wraps his other arm around my ribs. His nose buries into the back of my neck.

Moments later, we are both snoring softly.

#james hetfield #metallica #papahet #metallica fanfiction #papa het #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x you #metallica smut #metallica x reader #shameless product placement #happy thanksgiving

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nighthoundsworld · 10 months ago

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WE BACK ! told you I wouldn’t be consistent. Anyway Part 2 ! Of my Head canons that are 1000% true for the Next Avengers and with everyone either getting on Spring Break or getting off of it. Today’s topic will be about ✨Morning routines✨

James

Even though James usually acts like his Mother. His hard work and dedication is from his father. He’s an early bird like him. He takes his morning routines very seriously as he’s always the first one up. Nothing like A mere 100 handstand pushups, 100 sit-ups, 100 pull ups and an easy 13 mile run to start the morning

But nothing beats his breakfast protein shake he makes from scratch that always leaves the others wondering just how he functions in the morning

Torunn

Whenever Torunn wakes up she never forgets to pray to Odin and her Father. She prays that The all father is watching over her and her family and that when the time is ready she has secured her place in Valhalla. Once she’s done praying Torunn always presses a kiss to her fingers before placing those fingers on the framed picture of her Father and smiling

Torunn’s usually second in the kitchen behind Pym. And thanks to him he’s categorized everyone’s meal plans in separate sections. Torunn’s favorite breakfast always being Honey Nut Cheerios

Pym

If it wasn’t for James Pym would easily be the first one up. He only looses to James by 30 minutes as his alarm is set to 6:00 am while James naturally wakes up at 5:30. Pym wakes up at the same time every day on the hour and immediately the first thing he does is play an entire game of speed chess that takes a grand total of 1 minute and 30 seconds against the automated robot he designed. Whoever wins he tally’s up and not to brag but he has a current streak of 180-0. Pym is sully out the door in 10 minutes but not before he glances at the portrait of his parents hung up in his wall

He may not be able to beat James in first one up but Pym’s always the first one in the kitchen as he gets straight to work making his listed meal depending on what day it is

Monday-Bacon and Eggs

Tuesday-Omelet

Wednesday-Waffles

Thursday-Pancakes

Friday-Ceral

Weekends-try James Protein Shakes

He always cleans up before the others get there but trust him before they do it looks like a cooking show was being hosted beforehand

Azari

Out of everyone Azari has what people would call the most normal schedule. He wakes up at a fair time and the most he’ll do is splash some water on his face to wake himself up. Always smiling at the two separate pictures of his parents before he begins to start his day

Now even though he’s the most normal in waking up his kitchen skills need the most work as he for some reason refuses to use a glass to drink his morning beverage. Weather it be Orange Juice or Milk everyone immediately groans his name when they see him drink from the carton or jug. Added with Pym’s “and at least put a shirt on” as he has a knack for not putting ok a shirt until 11. We get it, you have fancy tattoos that light up, cool. At least he has the decency to make his own batch of waffles in the morning and he’s not scared of sharing

Francis

We’re lucky if Francis even wakes up in a single digit time span. He’s the master at hitting snooze before the alarm even has time to go off. And usually when he does get up he just rolls out of bed and lands on the floor before taking another 15 minutes of shut eye

Every single day Francis is the last one to make it in the Kitchen and every single day he asks the same question whilst he scratches his Platinum Blonde hair “Hey what’s there to eat !” As I’m pretty sure you can guess his sanctioned eating area is usually empty

#marvel #next avengers #comics #james rogers #francis barton #Azari T’challa #torunn #Henry Pym Jr #captain america #black widow #storm #ant man #hawkeye #xmen

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ichorai · 2 years ago

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blueberries ; three.

pairing ; joey tribbiani x gn!reader chapter synopsis ; the one with lumpy potatoes, new years parties, and mother-kissers. wc ; 9.0k warnings / includes ; talks of sex/suggestive content, mild cursing, reader wears a dress but obv still gn, and a new love interest !!

series masterlist. main masterlist.

“Are you wearing makeup?” Chandler asked Joey as the actor sauntered into Central Perk, sinking into a chair beside you.

“Yes, sir, I am,” replied Joey, rolling up his sleeves with a smirk. “As of today, I’m officially Joey Tribbiani: actor-slash-model.”

Snorting, Chandler piped, “That’s so funny, because I was thinking you look more like Joey Tribbiani: clown-slash-mime.”

You wanted to laugh, but you kept a straight face, sending Joey a reassuring grin. “Don’t listen to him, you look great!” Tilting your head to inspect him further, you added, “Though—your foundation could be a shade darker, you look like a ghost!”

“What were you modeling for, anyway?” asked Phoebe.

“Well, you know those posters for the City Free Clinic?” he asked excitedly.

Monica gasped, “Oh, wow! So you’re gonna be one of those healthy, healthy, healthy guys?”

Practically dripping with pride, Joey struck a ridiculous modeling pose, which made the rest of you scoff with laughter.

“The asthma guy’s really cute,” you chimed. When Joey sent you a glare, you were quick to tack on, “And you’ll definitely give him a run for his money!”

“You know which one you’re gonna be?” asked Chandler.

“No,” the actor-slash-model sighed. “But I hear lyme disease is open, so…”

Patting Joey’s shoulder, Chandler said, “Good luck man, I hope you get it.” That earned strange looks from the rest of you while Joey just beamed brightly, blissfully oblivious to his phrasing.

It was then that Ross stormed in, a strained mope marring his features. He sank into a chair with a heavy sigh, prompting you to roll your eyes and ask, “What’s wrong now, Ross?”

“Monica told me mom and dad weren’t spending Thanksgiving here—and I didn’t believe her at first, but it turns out she was right. How could they do this to us?”

Sighing, the black-haired woman proposed, “How about I cook Thanksgiving dinner at my place? I’ll make it just like Mom’s!”

“Will you make the mashed potatoes with lumps?” he asked.

Monica hesitated. “You know they’re not actually supposed to have—” She cut herself short at Ross’ sour expression. “Fine, I’ll work on the lumps! What are the rest of you doing tonight? Joey, you’re going home, right?”

From beside you, he nodded enthusiastically, excited to finally go back home and visit his parents.

“And I assume, Chandler, you’re still boycotting all the Pilgrim holidays?”

The man snorted. “Yes, every single one of them,” he sarcastically quipped.

“Pheebs, you’re going to be with your grandma?”

“Yeah, and her boyfriend. But we’re celebrating Thanksgiving in December because he’s lunar, so—”

Slightly confused, Monica asked, “So you’re free Thursday, then?”

“Yeah, why?” replied Phoebe, equally miffed before realization dawned upon her. “Oh, can I come?”

Monica nodded with a grin. “And Rachel’s planning on going to Vail—so what about you, Y/N?”

Tracing the rim of your teacup with a finger, you pursed your lips to the side in thought. “I think I’ll be free! You have room for one more?”

Ross crossed his arms in Monica’s kitchen, making him look abnormally burly in his chunky, woolen sweater. “If she’s talking to it, I just think I should get some belly time, too!” he complained. “Not that I believe in any of this.”

“I do,” you chimed, helping Monica season the turkey in the kitchen. “Babies begin developing ears well before thirty weeks, so I’m sure they’d be able to hear a little bit of what goes on outside the womb.”

Phoebe nodded her agreement. “I think babies can totally hear everything! Here, lemme show you, Ross—this might seem a little weird, but you put your head inside this turkey and then we’ll all talk and you’ll hear everything we say!”

“I’d like to say that I’m totally behind this experiment,” said Chandler. “In fact, I’d very much like to butter your head.”

You snorted in laughter, before turning to see Rachel walking into the apartment, sulking.

“Hey, Rach,” you greeted, hopping up to grab her coat for her. She sent you a half-hearted smile. “Did you make enough money to go to Vail?”

“Forget Vail,” she sniffled. “Forget seeing my family, forget shoop, shoop, shoop.” She mimicked skiing down the snow as tears pricked her eyes.

From the kitchen, Monica handed you the envelope, and you tapped Rachel’s shoulder. “Hey, honey, you’ve got some mail.”

“Just leave it on the table,” she replied, burying her face in her hands.

“I think you’re gonna want to see this,” you responded softly. When Rachel didn’t move, you rolled your eyes and smacked her arm lightly. “Now!”

She jolted in shock, before snatching the mail from you with a mildly offended look. The expression immediately melted away when she ripped it open, pulling out crisp dollar bills. “Oh, my God! You guys are great!” she exclaimed, lunging forward to drape her arms around you and pull you into a hug so tight that it was a wonder your ribs didn’t cave under the pressure.

“We all chipped in,” you assured her. “Except Ross, who now owes me twenty bucks.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, before pulling away and streaking into her room, yelling out something about packing her suitcase.

When she was gone, Monica headed back to the kitchen, shoving a bag full of goodies into Chandler’s awaiting arms. “Here you go, your standard holiday feast—canned tomato soup, grilled cheese fixings, and a family-size bag of Funyuns for one!”

“You sure you want to spend Thanksgiving alone?” you asked him, peering into the bag with distaste. “What is it with you and this holiday, anyway? I never got around to asking—honestly I was too scared to know the answer.”

Sighing, Chandler placed his hand on your shoulder. “Alright, I’m nine years old—”

Ross and Monica and Phoebe all groaned, muttering how much they absolutely hated this story.

“We’ve just finished Thanksgiving dinner. I have, and I remember this part vividly, a mouthful of pumpkin pie. And this is the moment my parents choose to tell me they’re getting divorced.”

“Oh,” you said. “Oh, my God, Chandler, I’m so sorry.”

Holding a finger up, Chandler shook his head. “Ah, but it gets worse—you see, it’s really hard to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner again when you’ve seen it in reverse.”

He began miming throwing up all over you, and you wrinkled your nose, bile rising up your throat.

“Oh, stop! You’re going to make me puke, too!”

There was a knock on the door, and before anybody could get up to answer it, Joey walked into Monica’s apartment, shoulders slumped.

“Jo?” you asked. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were spending Thanksgiving with your family?”

“They think I have VD,” he sighed, moving to pull you away from Chandler who had frozen mid-puke, and wrapping you up in a tight hug.

A bit surprised, you awkwardly patted his back, mouthing to Chandler to shut up when he began to say, “Be careful, Y/N, wouldn’t want you to get VD, too!” With a stout nod, Chandler bid himself adieu, claiming that he needed to ‘get away from all the merriment’.

When Joey finally let you go, he wound his way into the kitchen, following Monica around like a lost puppy as she cooked. “Hey, Monica, I got a question—I don’t see any tater tots.”

“That’s not a question,” she replied, cocking a sharp brow at him.

“But my mom always makes ‘em—it’s like a tradition! You get a little piece of turkey on your fork, a little cranberry sauce… and a tot!” huffed Joey, sitting down at the kitchen table by Ross. “It’s bad enough I can’t be with my family, you know—because of my disease that I don’t actually have.”

Rolling her eyes, Monica blew out a heavy sigh. “Alright, fine. Tonight’s potatoes will be both mashed with lumps for Ross, and in the form of tots for Joey.”

The two men grinned at each other victoriously, fist-bumping beneath the table.

“I’m off to talk to my unborn child! I’ll be back before dinnertime,” announced Ross, grabbing his coat, waving goodbye to the rest of you and disappearing out the door.

You took his spot at the kitchen table, resting your arm on Joey’s shoulder as the two of you watched Monica berate Phoebe for whipping the potatoes.

“Ross needs lumps!”

“Oh, well,” the blonde started sheepishly, “I thought we could have them whipped and then add some peas and onions.”

Frustration flooded across Monica’s features. “Why would we do that?”

“Then they’d be, uhm, be just like how my mom used to make it before she died,” said Phoebe, which made Monica blanch out of part-guilt and part-exasperation.

“Okay, three kinds of potatoes coming up! Unless you have a specific kind of mashed potatoes, too, Y/N?” she glared at you expectedly, eye twitching.

You raised your hands in a placating manner. “No, ma’am, I’m fine with whatever you’re making.”

The glare melted away and was replaced by one of relief. “You’re officially my favorite.”

Right at that moment, Rachel stumbled out of her room haphazardly carrying about half a dozen bags that looked to be on the verge of breaking open because of how stuffed full they were. She was beaming radiantly nonetheless, rushing to the door.

Before she could leave, however, Chandler ran back into Monica’s apartment, out of breath and blurting out, “The most unbelievable thing just happened! Underdog has gotten away!”

Joey’s eyebrows quirked upwards. “The balloon?”

Chandler shot him a sharp look, before leering, “No, the actual cartoon character. Of course the balloon! It’s all over the news—he broke free and was spotted flying over Washington Square Park! I’m goin’ to the roof, who’s with me?”

All of you began bolting for the door, except Rachel, who lamented that she had to leave for her flight.

“Come on, Rach, an eighty-foot balloon dog is flying loose over the city? You don’t wanna miss that!” you exclaimed, tugging her along. She reluctantly followed after all of you, dropping all her bags to the floor.

“Got the keys!” exclaimed Monica as all of you rushed out her apartment.

“That moment when we first saw the giant shadow fall over the park!” squealed Rachel, eyes sparkling. “I felt like I was in one of those big action movies!”

You chuckled. “Yeah, and the big bad villain was an inflatable balloon in the shape of a smiling dog.”

“But did they really have to shoot him down?” asked Phoebe. “That was just mean.”

The group arrived in front of Monica’s door.

“Okay, right about now the turkey should be crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside! Why are we all just standing here?” she said, rubbing her hands together anxiously.

“We’re waiting for you to open the door,” said Rachel in a ‘duh, isn’t it obvious?’ tone. “You’ve got the keys.”

Monica blinked. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. When we left, you said you got the keys!”

“I didn’t!” Monica’s voice went shrill. “I asked if you had the keys!”

“No, no, your voice went all flat at the end, like you already got the keys!” Rachel stressed, her own tone getting higher to match Monica’s.

“Do either of you have the keys?” Chandler unhelpfully asked, exaggerating the last word.

Panicked, Monica jangled the doorknob. “The oven is on!”

“I gotta get the money and my bags!” Rachel cried out. “I’m gonna miss my flight!”

“Oh!” said Joey. “We have a copy of your key in our apartment, right?”

“THEN GET IT!” Monica screeched, which made the two men step back out of shock.

“Alright, jeez, that tone won’t make me go any faster, you know?”

At the raven-haired woman’s withering glare, Joey bolted into his apartment to grab an entire box full of keys, which made the rest of you groan in exasperation.

After about ten minutes of trying out different keys, Monica bit out, “Can’t you go any faster with that?”

“I got one keyhole and about a zillion keys—you do the math!” he replied, tossing another unfit key back into the box.

“Why do you guys have so many keys in there anyway?” barked Rachel.

“Hm, for an emergency just like this?” deadpanned Chandler.

Rachel was practically vibrating with frustration at this point, grabbing Chandler by the lapels of his button-down shirt and yanking him down threateningly. “Alright, listen here, smirky! If it wasn’t for you and your stupid balloon, I would be on a plane watching a woman show me where the emergency exits are right now! But I’m not!”

“God, I swear I asked if you had the keys,” sulked Monica.

“I didn’t! I wouldn’t say I had the keys unless I had the goddamn keys! I obviously didn’t have the keys!”

“Oh, my God,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Really, guys, there’s no point in arguing about it anymore—blaming someone won’t make the door magically open.”

Ignoring you, Monica rounded back to Rachel, hissing, “Why would I have the keys? You were the last one out!”

“Because you said you had them!” Rachel replied, practically screaming at this point. Joey momentarily stopped trying to jam random keys into the door to watch them fight, but you swatted his arm to get him back to work.

“Why?”

“Because!”

“Why? Because everything is my responsibility? Isn’t it enough that I’m making Thanksgiving dinner for everyone? Yeah, everyone wants a different kind of potato, so I’m making different kinds of potatoes! Does anybody even care what kind of potatoes I want? No! Just as long as Phoebe gets her peas and onions, and Joey gets his tots, and Chandler gets to watch from the side, and Ross gets his gross potato lumps and—and—it’s my first Thanksgiving all on my own and now it’s all burnt and I can’t—” She burst into a mess of tears and running mascara, and you shook your head sympathetically, walking to her to wind your arms around her and comfortingly pat her on the back.

She hiccupped into you, about to hug you back when Joey said, “Hey, I got the door open!”

Monica ripped herself away from you and shot into her apartment, leaving you blinking in surprise.

“Thanks for being there for me, Y/N, you always know how to make me feel better!” you muttered under your breath, before following the rest of the group in.

The apartment was full of smoke, the stench of burned poultry lingering in the air. You waved your hand in front of your face just as Monica yanked the oven open and threw the ruined meal onto the counter. “Well, turkey’s burnt! Potatoes are ruined, potatoes are ruined, and potatoes are ruined!”

It was then that Ross strode into the apartment, whistling a merry tune beneath his breath, before noticing the smoke and the sullen expressions. “This doesn’t smell like Mom’s,” he quipped, which earned him a cuff to the shoulder.

“No, it doesn’t,” grouched Monica. “But you know what, Ross? You want lumps? Here, you got one!” She yanked one of the burned, hardened no-longer-mash potatoes out of its bowl, waving it around with a manic look to her eye.

From across the room, Rachel slammed the phone onto the coffee table, screaming out, “God, this is just great! The plane is gone, so I guess I’m stuck here with you guys!”

Joey crossed his arms. “We all had better plans, okay? This was nobody’s first choice.”

You winced—technically this had been your first choice, but you opted to remain quiet.

“Really?” said Monica, clearly hurt. “So why was I busting my ass to make this delicious Thanksgiving dinner!?”

“You call that delicious?” Ross gruffed.

The entire group erupted into screams and accusations and loud arguments.

You sighed, moving to the door, where Chandler was leaning.

“Now this feels like Thanksgiving,” he whispered to you, which made you snort in laughter.

“Guys, look!” Phoebe exclaimed from the window, interrupting everybody’s yelling. “Ugly Naked Guy’s taking his turkey out of the oven!”

Everybody was in too sour of a mood to care, until—

“Oh, my God. He’s not alone! Ugly Naked Guy is having Thanksgiving dinner with Ugly Naked Gal!”

All of you bolted to the window, both cooing at how cute they were and how gross it was at the same time.

“Ugly naked dancing!” Monica pointed out, a smile breaking out across her face.

“It’s nice that he has someone,” said Phoebe.

The rest of you sighed, before looking at each other fondly.

Soon after, all of you were seated at the kitchen table, watching Chandler cut grilled cheese sandwiches in half.

“Who wants light cheese and who wants dark cheese?” he asked.

“I don’t even wanna know what’s in the dark cheese,” replied Ross as he grabbed half of a sandwich.

“You wanna split with me, Jo?” you asked, holding up an uncut sandwich.

Phoebe clapped her hands. “You guys have to make a wish! You know, like a turkey wishbone!”

With a smile, you held out the grilled cheese to Joey, and he clutched the other side, before pulling. He ended up with the bigger half, a wide grin split across his handsome features.

“What’re you wishing for?” you asked, biting into your smaller portion.

“Duh, the bigger half,” Joey replied, which made you kick him beneath the table. He tilted his head. “What would you have wished for?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I’m really happy with what I have now,” you smiled at him, before turning to look at Chandler, who was clinking a fork against his glass.

He cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t exactly the kind of Thanksgiving any of you had planned, but for me this has been really great. Mostly because it didn’t involve divorce or, you know, projectile vomiting. I was just thinking if Rachel had gone to Vail, or if you guys had been with your family, or if Joey didn’t have… syphilis and stuff, we wouldn’t be all together. I guess what I’m trying to say is—I’m very grateful all of your Thanksgivings sucked.”

The rest of you raised your glasses.

“Here’s to a lousy Christmas,” said Ross.

“And a crappy New Year!” you chimed, before taking a long sip.

“Hi, guys,” you greeted everybody as you sat down beside Ross on Central Perk’s largest couch. “I’ve got news!”

Ross was just about to ask what it was when Rachel came with a steaming cup of tea for you, smiling softly. “Hey, Y/N! Do you guys know what you’re doing for New Years?”

Suddenly, the entire group threw their arms up in the air, groaning loudly.

“Jeez, what? What’s wrong with New Years?”

“Nothing for you, you have Paolo!” Chandler replied hotly. “You don’t have to face the horrible pressures of this holiday—the desperate scramble to find anything with lips just so you can have somebody to kiss when the ball drops! Man, I’m talking loud!”

Frowning, Rachel cocked her head. “For your information, Paolo’s gonna be in Rome this New Years, so I’ll be just as pathetic as the rest of you!”

“I am so sick of being a victim of this Dick Clark holiday! I say this year, no dates—we make a pact. Just the seven of us, dinner,” proposed Chandler, spreading his arms out invitingly.

As the rest of them chimed their reluctant agreement, you winced, setting your tea down. “Sorry, Chandler.”

“Sorry? What do you mean, sorry?” he asked.

“Sorry, as in I already have a date for New Years.” Your words were a little hushed, and you sank further into the sofa out of mild embarrassment.

The entire group seemed to double-take at your words, practically bursting at the seams with questions.

“Who?” Joey asked.

“A guy from work—his name’s Connor, and he’s one of the head researchers for quantum photonics,” you said in response, playing with the fraying threads of your sweater. “I’m not even in that field but I’ve become more or less his consultant and peer reviewer for his papers and just this morning, he came up to me with flowers and asked me to be his date for New Years, and gosh, I just felt like a giddy teenager, you know?”

Monica slapped your arm, an excited smile spread across her lips. “That’s great, Y/N!”

“What does he look like?” asked Phoebe.

“He’s got the most gorgeous dark hair, and soft brown eyes,” you began describing, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “And he’s just so soft-spoken, you know? Honestly, I never really saw him in a romantic light until he came up to me this morning and it all just came rushing at me—it’s honestly a bit too good to be true.”

Joey scoffed. “Yeah, especially after the last person you were with.”

Stiffening, you clenched your jaw and shot him a half-hearted glare.

“Who was the last person?” Ross queried.

Purposefully, you dodged his question and said, “Well, good luck with your no-date pact! I’d love to spend New Years with you guys, but—”

“Why don’t you bring him?” asked Rachel.

“No! No, it’s for single people only, that was the whole point!” Chandler butted in.

With a sour glare, Monica said, “Come on, it’s Y/N! The last time we’ve met one of their partners was… come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone you’ve dated. We can make an exception, Chandler. Just one. Besides, I’d really love to meet this Connor guy!”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Just Y/N, but that’s it.”

The next day, the entire group was gathered in Monica’s apartment, helping her decorate a small Christmas tree. Joey wasn’t here, however, having gotten a job as a helper elf at a local mall. You couldn’t shake the feeling of him being upset with you, he’d barely spoken a word to you ever since they had made the date-pact yesterday, but you tried not to read too much into it.

“I can’t believe he hasn’t kissed you yet!” Rachel told you. Untangling the silver tinsel, you wrapped it around the pine on Monica’s coffee table. “God, by my sixth date with Paolo, he’d already named both my breasts!”

You blinked in surprise. Ross made a choking noise from beside you.

“Ooh, did I just share too much?”

Ross huffed out of his nose. “Just a smidge.”

Hanging up another ornament, you shrugged. “I don’t know—I kinda like that he’s taking it slow, you know?”

Phoebe nodded enthusiastically. “David hasn’t kissed me either—are all scientist guys like that? Very methodical.”

You remembered Phoebe mentioning that she was seeing a physicist. “I can assure you, Pheebs, not all scientist guys are like that. A lot of them don’t waste any time with sex, much less kissing!”

“I think it’s romantic,” Monica chimed.

You smiled softly. “It’s really nice. Connor is just—he’s just so nice and smart and gentle and sweet. When he looks at me it feels… I don’t know, I just forgot what it feels like to be wanted by someone else, you know?”

Phoebe sank into a chair, grinning like a lovesick fool. “I know what you mean. I just want to be with him all the time, you know? Day and night, and night and day. And, uhm… special occasions…”

With an exaggerated gasp of betrayal, Chandler pointed an accusing finger at her. “Wait a minute—I see where this is going. You’re gonna ask him to New Years! You’re gonna break the pact!”

“No!” Phoebe vehemently exclaimed. After a moment’s pause, she sheepishly asked, “Can I, though?”

With a defeated sigh, Chandler propped his hands on his hips. “Yeah, cause I already asked Janice.”

“What?” you asked, nearly dropping a fragile ornament you’d been holding. “Chan, the entire pact was your idea.”

“I snapped, okay? I couldn’t handle the pressure and I snapped!”

Monica shook her head. “Janice, though? That was, like, the worst breakup in history!”

“Well, I’m not saying it was a good idea, I’m saying I snapped!” Chandler defended, face reddening.

The door to Monica’s apartment swung open, and Joey strode in, dressed head-to-toe in a ridiculous array of bright green, red, and white fabric that came together into a shoddy elf costume. His shoes were pointy and little bells hung off the ends, and jangled with every step he took.

“Too many jokes,” Chandler gritted out, doubling over as he suppressed the urge to make fun of his roommate. “Must mock Joey!”

“Oh, stop it,” you said, grinning at him. “I think he makes a handsome elf.”

Strange, you thought. Joey almost completely ignored your comment, opting to head back to his apartment, claiming that he had to change because around a dozen kids sneezed on him during his shift.

Back at Central Perk, Ross was throwing a fit after Monica had told everybody that she had also caved and asked Fun Bobby to be her date for New Years.

“Okay, so on our no-date evening, four of you now have dates!” he grumbled.

Raising his hand, Joey said, “Uh, five.”

You raised your eyebrows, but you weren’t really surprised. Joey had an uncanny knack for getting random strangers to fall in love with him.

Rachel bowed her head, also saying, “Six. Sorry, Paolo’s catching an early flight!”

“Yeah, and I met this really hot single dad at the mall. What’s an elf to do?”

Before you could question him further, Ross buried his face into his palms. “Okay, so I’m gonna be the only one standing there alone when the ball drops?”

“Come on, Ross! We’ll have a big party, and no one will know who’s with who!” Rachel reassured him.

“Ugh, this is the last thing I needed right now! Marcel’s shutting me out, and now this.”

It took you a moment to realize that Ross was talking about a monkey that he had gotten, which you believed was really to fill the lesbian-wife-shaped hole in his heart, but you never vocalized those thoughts.

“Why’s Marcel shutting you out?” you questioned.

“I don’t know, he’s moping around all the time, dragging his hands.”

You bit back the urge to say like owner, like pet, but bit down on your tongue and sipped on your tea.

“That’s so weird,” Chandler added. “I had such a blast with him the other night when you asked me to petsit! We played, we watched TV—that juggling thing is amazing!”

Ross blinked. “What, uh… what juggling thing?”

“With the balled-up socks? I figured you taught him that.”

A muscle ticked in Ross’ jaw. “No.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Chandler said placatingly. “It was just a couple socks… and a melon.”

The party at Monica’s place was in full swing.

You had shown up early with Connor, an assorted tray of nearly-burnt homemade cookies in hand. Everybody was fawning over Connor, and he was a doll the entire evening, constantly keeping a warm hand on your lower back and whispering sweet compliments into your ear that made you swoon like a seasick sailor.

There was one point when he had excused himself to go to the bathroom, and Monica rushed to you, telling you that if you didn’t hold onto him for dear life, she’d smack you silly.

The rest of the guests were acquaintances that you barely recognized, and you could feel your social battery draining by the minute. You stood in the kitchen sipping on a glass of punch as you listened to Janice talk your ear off about a new diet that she’d been on, trying your utmost best to come up with an excuse to leave her.

“Sorry, Janice, I gotta head to the bathroom real quick. Nice dress, though, you look amazing!”

“Oh, thank you, you’re such a sweetheart! You know, if Chandler hadn’t already asked me, I wouldn’t have minded having a piece of you to myself—!”

You squirmed away before she could try to flirt with you any more, bolting into the general direction of the bathroom. Suddenly, you crashed straight into somebody’s chest, which you were utterly relieved to be Joey.

He grasped your forearms, concerned, before promptly letting go of you.

“Hey, Jo,” you said, strangely timid. This was Joey, for heaven’s sake, what were you being so shy for? “You look good!”

“Thanks,” he said, before giving you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. A dark brown leather jacket was thrown over a tight white turtleneck, and his dark hair was combed to the side. “You look great, too. Dresses suit you.”

Tonight, you had decided to wear a silky dress that was a mottled shade of olive green, draping just right over your figure. It shone dimly beneath the lights, and Joey couldn’t help but notice how it brought out the brightness of your eyes.

“Really? I can’t remember the last time I’ve worn a dress,” you nervously replied, tucking a loose curl of hair behind your ear. “I’m only wearing this because Connor told me it complimented my eyes.”

Immediately, Joey’s expression seemed to falter. “O-Oh, yeah. Well, he’s right.”

A knock on the door drew your attention away from Joey, and Monica opened it to reveal a man—and judging by Joey’s wave, you guessed that it was the hot single dad that he had mentioned was his date. Your inference was further confirmed when two small children walked in after him, much to your amusement.

“Oh, uh, bye—” you began to say, but Joey was already moving away from you.

Before disappointment could fester within you for too long, Connor was by your side, curling an arm around your waist. You smiled at him, leaning forward and softly pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Rouge dusted across his cheekbones and he returned the favor, before nuzzling his nose against the side of your temple.

It was sickly sweet—nauseatingly so. But you loved it, anyway.

From across the room, Joey watched the two of you cozy up to each other and he cursed under his breath. He forced himself to tear away his gaze and focus on his date and… the two kids awkwardly following behind.

The door flung open not five minutes later, revealing Rachel. Only, she was covered in mud and dirt, and a mysterious goopy substance that dripped down her hair. Her lip was busted and swollen, and deep bruises littered her pallid complexion.

“Oh, my God,” you whispered under your breath, whispering an apology to Connor before rushing to Rachel, who was being fawned over by Monica. “Rach, are you okay? What happened?”

“Fuckin’ Paolo missed his flight!” she spat out, a bit muffled and hard to understand because of her swollen lip, taking a seat on the sofa.

Hurriedly, you grabbed a glass of water for her and dampened a small towel with warm water, and rushed back to her, cleaning away the speckled dirt on her face.

“And then your face exploded?” Phoebe asked hesitantly.

“I was getting into a cab at the airport, when this woman, this blonde bitch with a pocketbook started yelling at me! Something about how it was her cab first, and the next thing I know, she’s just pulling me out by my hair! So I start blowing my attack whistle thingy and then three more cabs show up! So as I’m getting into a cab, she straight out tackles me! And I hit my head on the curb and cut my lip on my whistle!” She burst into tears, before quickly composing herself, realizing that there were more than a dozen people watching her blubber bloody, dirty tears. “Oh. Everyone having fun at the party? Y/N, is that Connor? He’s very handsome!”

Connor waved hello, but you sighed, gently pressing the back of your hand to Rachel’s forehead. “Honey, you might’ve hit your head really hard and gotten a concussion. Can someone get some ice, please? Or a frozen bag of peas, or something?” When Chandler brought you a small pack of ice, you gingerly held it to her head. “Alright, this should bring down the swelling soon. Are you feeling sleepy at all? Is it hard to keep your eyes open?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine, I think. Thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem,” you replied, patting her leg softly. “No alcohol for you tonight, though.”

With a meek smile, she nodded, before heading into her room to get changed and clean herself up a bit more.

You blew out a breath, before allowing Connor to sweep you away closer to the windows. “That was…” he began.

“What?”

“You’re really great,” he said, eyes softening. “I know this thing between us is really new, and I don’t want to rush anything, but I really like you.”

You swore you could feel your heart liquefying within your chest and drip down between your ribcage. “I really like you, too, Connor.”

Not too far from the two of you, you overheard Joey’s date purr, “When I saw you at the store last week, it was probably the first time I’ve ever mentally undressed an elf.”

Disgust coiled within your stomach when you noticed that her kids were watching.

“Hey.” Connor’s fingers lifted your chin up to meet his gaze. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m good. Let’s go get some more food, I’m starving!”

The next hour was spent mingling some more, and you were already hiding yawns behind a fist. Connor, ever so considerate, had asked you if you were feeling tired and wanted to leave, but you had waved him away. Though you were tired, you really did want to kiss him on New Years.

Before you knew it, it was five minutes before midnight.

You had bumped into Chandler, who had sullenly told you that he had broken up with Janice. Again.

“Will you kiss me at midnight?” he asked you.

You reared back in surprise, gesturing to an equally bewildered Connor. “I’m here with Connor, Chandler.”

He squinted. “Okay. Connor, will you kiss me at midnight?”

“Oh, go away, Chandler!” you swatted his arm, and he hissed, scuttering away to ask another poor soul to kiss him.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Joey tuck in two kids on the sofa with a large blanket, passed out cold. You tilted your head, heading towards him.

“Where’s their dad?” you whispered quietly, not wanting to awaken them.

“Chandler told me he saw him in Monica’s room, getting it on with some chick,” replied Joey, distant. “I’m just watchin’ over the kids.”

Your gaze softened. “That’s real sweet of you. Happy new year, Joey.” A bit more hesitantly, you spread your arms out. You were tired of walking on eggshells around him—you wanted your best friend back. He looked at you for a second, gaze flickering to Connor, who was chatting pleasantly to Ross, and then back to you. Then he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you tightly, blueberry perfume invading his senses, a tirade of overwhelming emotions winding through every nerve. All of a sudden, your glossed lips were on his cheek, nose bumping into his cheekbone. “In case you don’t get a new year’s kiss,” you whispered against him, before pulling away.

Throat tight, he nodded stoutly, watching as you sent him one last devastating smile, and turned on your heel to head back to Connor.

A minute before midnight.

“Looks like the no-date pact worked out,” Chandler huffed. “Except Y/N, the bastard.” He glared at you from afar as Connor placed his hands on your waist, tugging you closer, his nose brushing yours.

“Everybody looks so happy! I hate that,” said Phoebe. Sure, she had been the one who urged her date to go to Russia for a big break in his career, but it still hurt that he’d left nonetheless.

As the clocks hit midnight, the couples around you cheered and began embracing each other. Connor pulled you flush against him and kissed you deeply, and you couldn’t help but grin into him when he skimmed his fingers down your side, tickling you slightly. Your hands cradled his jaw as if he were made of fine china, inching to the back of his neck to lace together.

You pulled away, breathless, just in time to turn and see Joey exasperatedly grab Chandler’s face and plant a firm kiss on his lips to shut him up about being forever alone.

Nora Bing was a delight, despite Chandler’s vehement difference of opinion.

She was confident, a good conversationalist, and often divulged a bit too much information than needed, which made for a rather entertaining evening. She was a pretty popular erotica writer, and though you haven’t had the chance to pick up any of her books yourself, you’ve heard it to be rather… raunchy.

The entire group was out at a fancy Chinese restaurant, and she had asked you to bring your ‘little boy toy’ as she had called Connor.

You sat between him and Chandler, with Nora being on the other side, and Joey across from you.

Soon after you arrived, Rachel and Paolo rushed in, looking disheveled.

“Hi, sorry we’re late. We kinda lost track of time,” the brunette said, breathless. Paolo was kissing down her neck from behind her and you had to resist the urge to gag. Down the table, you could see Ross discretely fist the tablecloth so tight his knuckles turned white.

The two sat down, and the food arrived shortly after. You shared a dish with Connor, who placed a warm hand on your knee.

“Mrs. Bing, I have to tell you, I’ve read everything you’ve written!” said Rachel as she fed Paolo a prawn cracker. His tongue dragged down her hand and the rest of the group watched in disturbed, awkward silence. “I mean it! When I read Euphoria at Midnight, all I wanted to do was become a writer.”

“Please,” the blonde woman smiled at the compliment, “if I could do it, anybody can! You just start with half a dozen European cities, throw in thirty euphemisms for male genitalia, and bam! You’ve got yourself a book!”

From beside her, Chandler gagged around a soup dumpling, pounding his chest. “My mother, ladies and gentlemen,” he hacked out.

Amiable chatter filled the rest of the dinner—Phoebe was telling a story about a homeless man that once chased her in the street wearing a full-body chicken suit, Joey filled Nora in with his upcoming auditions, and you and Connor told the group about what you’ve been up to at work.

Both Nora and Ross had excused themselves to go to the bathroom, and you looked to Joey with a soft smile.

“How are your auditions going, Jo? Do you need any help practicing your scenes? You know I always love doing those with you,” you said, pulling a small plate of wantons towards you.

“Oh, no, it’s fine—they’re more solo acts than anything,” he reassured, before falling quiet once more.

It was your turn to choke on your noodles when Connor’s hand began inching up your thigh. Irrational panic cramped your insides.

Concerned, Monica asked, “Are you okay, sweetie?”

“I, uh… need to go to the bathroom.” Abruptly, you stood up from your seat, face practically set aflame. Connor’s hand fell away from your leg, but he stood up as well. “No, uhm, I’ll just be a second—you can stay here.”

As you rushed to the back of the restaurant where the bathrooms were, you were driven further into a mess when you saw Ross and Chandler’s mom making out against the wall, making obscene, porn-like noises.

You were just about to turn and leave when you saw Joey right behind you, concerned gaze fixed on you. “I was just makin’ sure you were alright, you looked a little—” He cut himself off when he looked back and saw Ross and Nora. “Oh, my God!”

The two sprang away from each other, staring wide-eyed at you and Joey.

“We’ll, uh… just go pee in the street!” you uttered in an abnormally squeaky tone, grabbing Joey’s arm and yanking him away from the bathrooms.

When you returned to the table, Connor smiled at you kindly, but there was a glimmer of apologetic worry behind his hazel irises.

“That was quick,” he commented. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah—no. I don’t know,” you whispered, still a little shell-shocked.

Lowering his voice, he leaned closer to you. “Was it about me touching you? If it was, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have done that and I should’ve asked if you were comfortable with it first—”

“Oh, Connor, it’s fine! That wasn’t what I was worrying about, I promise.”

With a sigh of relief, Connor nodded. “You’ll tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied distantly, glancing towards Joey, who’d been boring holes into you the entire time since you got back. “Of course I will.”

Early the next morning, you knocked on Joey’s door, greeted by him wrapped in a bathrobe and his dark hair a disheveled mess.

“Hey,” you said with a warm smile. “I brought you some croissants from that bakery down the street.”

With a grin, he took the bag from you and inhaled deeply, groaning. “Thanks, Y/N, these smell amazing.”

“So, uh, about yesterday…”

You were about to bring up Ross and Nora, but Joey asked before you could, “Was Connor bothering you?”

The mention of your doe-eyed partner made you rear back in shock. “What? No! I mean… he did kinda touch me in a suggestive way and I was just surprised, was all. He’s really great, but…”

“But?”

“I don’t know! Being in a relationship is terrifying,” you huffed, leaning against his kitchen table.

There was a beat of silence. “You guys are in a relationship?”

“Well, we haven’t really made anything official, but I think we are,” you said.

“Oh.” Joey swallowed heavily. “Don’t worry about it too much, okay? Just do whatever makes you happy. I… we’ll always be here for you. I’m one of your best friends, remember?”

Worrying on your bottom lip, you quietly murmured, “Lately it just hasn’t been feeling that way.”

Joey’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—there’s like this sort of weird tension between us. Do you not like Connor or something? Or is it something that I did? Because you know I love you, Jo—I’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose.”

A troubled expression melded over his features. He shook his head. “You didn’t do anything—and Connor’s great for you! Nothing’s wrong, I promise. I’ve just been in a weird funk—but things are gonna go back to normal soon, I swear.”

“Oh, Jo,” you whispered, pushing off the table and stepping closer to him. Gently, you wrapped your arms around him in a warm embrace and he returned the hug immediately, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I care about you a lot, you know?”

Before he could respond, there was another knock at the door. You let go of him so Joey could answer it.

Ross was standing behind, looking distraught.

“Oh, good, Y/N you’re here too. Is Chandler in there?”

“Yeah, he’s sleeping,” replied Joey.

At the confirmation, Ross grabbed the two of you and yanked you out of the apartment, much to both of your dismay.

“Okay, about last night, you know,” Ross began, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “You guys didn’t tell Chandler, did you?”

With a sigh, both of you shook your heads.

“Great, because I’m thinking… we don’t need to tell Chandler, right? It was just a kiss—just one kiss, it was no big deal. Right?”

“Right, no big deal,” said Joey. “In Bizarro-World!”

Disappointed, you prodded Ross in the shoulder, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You broke the code!”

“What code?”

“You don’t kiss your friend’s mom!” you said, a bit too loudly, which made Ross shush you with paranoid glances back to the apartment.

Joey nodded his agreement. “Sisters are okay. Maybe a hot aunt, but moms? Never a mom! They’re off limits.”

It was then that the door swung open again, and Chandler appeared, yawning.

“What’re you guys doin’ out here?” he asked as he bent down to pick up the newspaper on the doorstep.

“Uh, the three of us had discussed getting in an early morning racquetball game!” squeaked Ross, before gesturing to Joey. “But apparently somebody overslept!”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have your racquet,” Joey shot back.

Scratching the back of his neck, Ross nodded. “No, uh, no I don’t. It’s being restrung. Y/N was supposed to bring me one!”

You blinked in surprise. “Yeah, I, uhm, you forgot to call me yesterday and tell me what kind you wanted! So many different racquets to choose from, you know?”

Chandler rubbed his eyes sleepily. “You guys are spending way too much time together,” he quipped, before turning on his heel and heading back inside, closing the door behind him.

“I’m scum,” lamented Ross once Chandler was out of earshot.

“How could you do that to him?” you hissed lowly.

Ross threw his hands up. “I don’t know! It’s not like she’s a regular mom, you know? She’s sexy, she’s—”

“What, you don’t think my mom’s sexy?” asked Joey.

“Well… sure, but in a different way.”

Joey scowled. “I’ll have you know, Gloria Tribbiani was a handsome woman in her day, alright? You think it’s easy giving birth to seven children?”

“I think your mom’s beautiful, Jo.”

“Why, thank you. See, no wonder she keeps saying you’re her favorite—”

Ross blew out a frustrated huff. “Alright, I think we’re getting a little off topic here.”

From the opposite side of the hall, the door swung open to reveal Rachel and a barely-dressed Paolo.

“Hey, what’re you guys doing out here?” she asked, clearly in a chipper mood.

“Not playing racquetball,” you hummed in a glib tone, shooting Ross a dagger-sharp look.

A little confused, Rachel nodded, but didn’t care enough to ask more about it, leading Paolo out of the apartment and heading up the stairs to kiss him goodbye.

The three of you filed into Monica’s apartment. “Are you gonna tell him?” Joey asked. “You can’t just lie to him forever.”

“Why would I tell him?” asked Ross as he fished a carton of orange juice out of Monica’s fridge.

“Maybe because if you don’t, his mom might?” you chimed, cocking a brow.

“Oh, God. Oh, man—you’re right. I have to tell him.”

With Chandler seated and Ross standing in front of him, you and Joey lingered in their kitchen as you listened in to their conversation.

“You’re my best friend. I had to tell you,” said Ross, which made you roll your eyes.

“I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe Paolo kissed my mom! I mean, I barely saw him leave Rachel’s side that night!” Chandler said in disbelief.

Joey crossed his arms and glared at Ross. Guilt welled up in your long-time friend’s face, and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“Alright, no, I can’t do this. I was the one who kissed your mom. I’m sorry.”

Shocked, Chandler got to his feet. “What?” he asked, jaw unhinging.

Stammering, Ross began to explain, “I was just really upset about Rachel and Paolo and I had too much tequila in my system and Nora—uhm, Mrs. Mom—I mean, your Bing, was… she was just being nice, you know? But nothing happened, I swear. Ask Y/N and Joey—”

Rounding on the two of you in the kitchen, Chandler asked incredulously, “You guys knew about this?”

“Uh… well, knowledge is a tricky thing,” Joey began to cough out.

“I spent the entire day with you!” gruffed Chandler. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Defensively, Joey retorted, “Hey, you’re lucky we caught them when we did, or else who knows what would’ve happened!”

“Not helping!” barked Ross.

A muscle jumped in Chandler’s jaw. “And you, Y/N? We spent the rest of that night together and you didn’t say a single word! Too busy making googly eyes at your boyfriend?”

“Don’t bring Connor into this,” you bristled, glaring knives into all three of them. “Listen, Chandler, I obviously wanted to tell you, but it wasn’t mine to tell. Ross had to own up to his mistakes and tell you himself.”

Lifting a finger, Ross said, “Mistake—as in, not plural. Just one. It was just one kiss—okay, I’ll shut up now.”

“I can’t believe this. What the hell were you thinking?” admonished Chandler. “Of all my friends, no one knows the crap I go through with my mom more than you. I can’t believe you!”

Despite Ross’ desperate attempts to get Chandler to hear him out, he turned tail and made his way out of the apartment, slamming the door on the way.

“See what happens when you break the code?” Joey huffed, before rushing out to catch up to Chandler.

You sighed, slumping against the kitchen counter.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Ross said, making his way to you.

“I shouldn’t be the one you’re apologizing to,” came your stout reply. You fixed Ross with a pointed look. “I know you’re hurting over Rachel right now, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re hurting others, too. Give Chandler some time to mull it over, and then talk to him again. Okay?”

Ross pursed his lips. “Okay.” He slung an arm over you, pulling you into a side-hug. “Say, what were you doing with Joey so early in the morning?”

Your cheeks flushed with a surge of heat, and you ducked your head. “We had some things to talk about.”

Dubious, Ross narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything in response.

Later that night, you were sitting beside Connor, who was engaged in a lively conversation with Joey—something about how waffles were really just the ugly, older sister of pancakes. You were glad to see them finally getting along, despite the initial awkward stage.

Chandler walked in, sinking into the empty spot beside Connor, asking him how he was doing.

When Ross opened his mouth to speak, Chandler held up a finger. “I was asking Connor, not you, mother-kisser.”

Much to Ross’ dismay, Joey burst out into raucous laughter, which left Connor confused.

“I’m doing great,” your boyfriend replied, evidently puzzled. “How about you?”

Before Chandler had the chance to reply, Ross sat up straight. “Can I just say something? I know you’re still mad at me, I just wanna say that there were two people there that night, okay? There were two sets of lips!”

“What’s going on?” Connor dipped forward to whisper into your ear. The smile melted off of Joey’s face.

You twisted to mumble back, “Ross kissed Chandler’s mom.”

Connor’s eyes widened, and he nodded in understanding before settling back to watch the two hash it out.

“Yes, well, I expected this from her, okay?” retorted Chandler. “She’s always been a Freudian nightmare.”

“If she always behaves like this, why don’t you say something?” Ross postulated.

“Because it’s complicated! It’s complex! Hey, you kissed my mom!” Chandler exclaimed loudly, which made some of the other people in the cafe stop and stare at the two. You sank lower into your seat.

Placing a hand on Chandler’s chest, Ross said, “Hey, you have every right to be angry at me and I’m still really sorry. But you’re not gonna talk to her at all and tell her how you feel about all this?”

“Look, just because you played tonsil tennis with my mom doesn’t mean you know her!”

“I might not, but I still think you need to let her know that you’re upset with her, Chandler.”

Chandler’s face hardened as he considered Ross’ words. With a stiff nod, he stepped away from the taller man, waving goodbye to the three of you on the couches, before heading out to presumably talk to his mother.

“Well,” you said, rubbing your hands together. “I think that’s my cue to head back home.”

“Let me walk you home,” said Connor, gently grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger before dipping forward to kiss you, all soft and sweet. You pulled away to press another quick kiss to his cheek, then swiftly got up from the couches, his hand intertwined with yours.

Ross watched as Joey barely said goodbye to you and Connor, his expression tight and closed-off.

When both you and Connor were long gone, Ross turned to Joey.

“You’re in love with Y/N, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

Joey’s head snapped up so quickly that it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash. His eyes widened a fraction. “What?”

“You are,” said Ross. “I can see it in your face. It’s written all over you.”

The Italian shook his head vehemently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N’s my best friend.”

“Yeah, sure. One that you’re in love with!”

“Well, how would you know, huh?” Joey crossed his arms, panic coiling within his gut.

Exhaling, Ross lowered his voice, muttering out, “Because that’s how I look at Rachel… and that’s how I feel when I see Rachel with Paolo.”

A second of silence passed before Joey cuffed Ross on the shoulder, laughing. “You’re a funny guy, Ross. Just because you’ve gone and fallen in love with Rachel doesn’t mean Y/N and I are the same. You got it all wrong—Y/N’s like my sibling, if anything!”

“You sure?”

Joey sank his teeth into his bottom lip. “Positive.”

Ross couldn’t tell if his friend was telling the truth, or if he was just a really good actor.

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