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r0b0-writes · 3 years ago

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Milkshake date?

So the first time I wrote this tumblr crashed on me and everything was deleted. I was absolutely crying, tears rolling down my cheeks. The only thing keeping me sane is that I hope this is somehow better than the first one.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy, because this was my favorite to write. Two times.

Title: Chill Moves Words: 1,720

Cap’n opened the door to the diner, “welcome to my happy place!” he bowed.

“I thought Comic-Con was your happy place?” Sweet questioned as he stepped inside.

“Welcome to one of my many happy places!” Cap’n corrected.

The doorframe was too low for the taller of the trio to walk in comfortably. Cakes ducked beneath. He tried to ignore the hit to his psyche as he was yet again reminded that he wasn’t as short as his partners. “Oh, wow~ !” he peeked around the room. “I’ve never been to a diner like this before.” Actually, Cakes had never been to a diner, ever.

The diner was decorated in the classic 40s-style ice cream parlor. Red and white colored wallpaper, checkered flooring, old records hung on the wall, and there was even an old jukebox in the corner. Not to mention the colorful abstract art that seemed to be strawn about the place. Cakes took particular notice of the photo that had a chicken wearing sunglasses. That… didn’t fit the theme, but okay! Cool chicken art was appreciated anywhere!

"Dad an' I used to come here all the time!" Cap'n beamed. He glanced at the bar, looking for three open seats. “Then we’d go to the movies after and get some grub.” He spotted a set of open bar stools and grabbed his partners hands, pulling them up to the bar. “This place has the best milkshakes ever, totally. They got everything,” he yoinked three menus from the bin on the counter and slid them down.

Cakes took a seat between Cap’n and Sweet.

"Oh, wait, wait, guys, watch this," Cap'n lowered the seat and crawled up, he pushed off the bottom rim as it spun up to its normal height. To stop the spin, Cap'n placed an elbow down on the counter and rested his head in his hand. "Come here often?" he winked.

Cakes giggled, "nope~ !" he played along. Cap'n leaned in, "would you like to?" Sweet rolled his eye, “c’mon guys, we’re in public.”

Cap'n stood up on the barstool, "says the guy who was all over K_K the day you guys started dating! Hypocrite!"

“I am not a hypocrite! I am aware of my surroundings!” “My ass!”

Cakes ignored their verbal back-and-forth, taking more interest in the menu. It didn’t really notice the arguing anymore, anyway. Though he didn't really think of them as arguments. They were more like... little tiffs. Nothing to be concerned about. Its eyelids dropped, there was never a reason to be concerned about those two.

“K_K, I’m not a hypocrite, am I?” Sweet placed both hands on their shoulder. “Well, I’m not a hypocrite, am I?” Cap’n repeated.

“Hmm…” Cakes tapped his chin, “I think… I want a Lemon-Key Lime Surprise.”

An empty pause came from the two before Sweet responded. “Good idea, K_K! We should get our order figured out.” Cap’n leaned back and tapped Sweet’s shoulder, “you should totally try the Sunrise Mango, I think you’d really like it!”

“What’re you gonna get~ ?” Cakes asked. “I always get the Bluberry Cheesecake,” Cap’n smiled like he was proud. “They almost named it after me when I was a kid! Before, uh… stuff, happened.” Cap’n didn’t let the small drop in atmosphere last long. “You got the LKL Surprise? I wonder what they’ll put in it this time?”

Cakes hummed, “I hope it’s something sweet~ !” He loved sweet things as much as he loved the tart, acidic taste of lemons. The combination was just perfect! It balanced the tastes so well, the contrast somehow compliments each flavor in a different way. The sweet portion always being the first initial taste, followed by that sourness that was never overwhelming, it was always just right. It sometimes reminded him of… well, anyway, it was hard to not indulge.

After ordering the trio only waited a few moments as the watched their milkshakes get made. Cakes’ was handed to the back before being brought back through. It narrowed his eyes, “(sneaky…)” Applying the ‘surprise’ from another room, huh? That wouldn’t stop him. They’d figure out what that surprise was.

“You like it?” Cap’n asked excitedly to his partners. Sweet nodded as they took a spoonful of theirs, “you were right, this is rad.”

Meanwhile, Cakes had taken to inspecting theirs. There was no distinct smell, no abstract color… He hummed, he’d have to take a sip. The lemon hit his tongue first followed by the taste of the lime. “Mmm~ !” they took a big slurp up their straw. The tangy, zesty goodness was perfectly missed in with the milkshake’s consistency. Even the whip cream on top had soaked enough in for it to apply just a little coverage from the acidic taste, just enough for it to not be overpowering. And underneath all that… there was something else.

Another slurp. There was something there… Another slurp. It was sweet… Another. But there was a bite to it… Another. What was it? It was right on his tongue.

"Woah, Cakes! Slow down, you're gonna give yourself a brain freeze!" Sweet warned. “Take it slow,” he added.

But that wouldn’t stop Cakes, “but I taste it. It’s right there, just one more.”

Another. Another.

“Woah, Cakes, you’re like, almost done with that,” Cap’n noted.

Another.

What the hell was that flavor he was tasting?

Anoth–

"Brain freeze!" Cakes immediately pushed the milkshake away. "Ouch, ouch, ouch!" He gripped his forehead as the lights in his eyes began to flicker and glitch out.

“I warned you,” Sweet rubbed his back as Cakes turned to Cap’n, pushing his face into his side. The cold covered every inch of Cakes’ mind, momentarily freezing not only the metaphorical brain but also the physical brain. His hearing would cut in and out, and seconds would pass where he couldn’t feel or see. It was like time travel but while stuck in a solid block of ice.

"C'mere, I can make it go away," Cap’n twisted the seat around. Cakes held his head, he couldn’t even hear what his partners were saying. Eventually, it would go away, but the lag hurt, it felt like his entire body was full of static. He just wanted it gone, to immediately evaporate and be freed from this eternal ice prison.

Soft, warm hands cupped the corners of his face, they pushed apart the grip on his forehead. Its vision still lagged behind the movements. Despite looking up, all he could see was the ground. Then he felt lips on his, gentle and chilly, but full of warmth. That warmth flushing to his cheeks, chasing away all the frigid cold.

The world came into view as Cap’n leaned away, “all gone?” He smirked, leaning against the counter.

No thoughts. Head empty.

"Wh-n d- did you learn th- that?" Cakes didn’t know if it was the lingering effects of the brain freeze or if it was just that shocked. Did… Did his Cap’n really do that?

"Learn what?" Cap'n smirked. "Th- That!" Cakes shouted, "that was- that was-" Sweet stood up, "that was smooth! Like, really smooth!"

Cap’n grinned, “I told you guys I had moves.”

While they spoke, Cakes couldn’t get the image of Cap’n’s features coming into view out of his head. Dazed, he turned to face the counter, staring at the top with eyes that looked a thousand miles away. Not only that, but he was absolutely starstruck. Its Cap’n wasn’t a player. Well, he was a cassette player, but he wasn’t a player-player. Did he do that on his own? Did he learn that somewhere? It was cute, it had been romantic, soft… He could taste the slight flavor of Cap’n’s milkshake still linger on his lips.

Cheeks flushed more, he suddenly felt intensely aware of how loud the beating in his chest was. Could Sweet and Cap’n hear it? Did they know? Who else could hear it? They couldn't bring themself to look around the room. They couldn't let their partners see them like this. In a puddle, all mushy over one kiss. Could they somehow play it off? No, it was too late. Everything was hot, his face was burning.

They’d kissed before, this wasn't anything new or more exciting than normal. So what was it? Why couldn't he think straight? Cap’n caught him guard, he hadn't expected that kiss. If he had known or seen it coming it would've been different. Oh gosh, was he actually this easily flustered? Or was it just because of Cap’n…?

He took a small glance to the side, Cap’n didn’t even seem to notice how his little stunt had made it feel.

Cakes couldn’t even place the exact feeling they were feeling. It’d never– It’d never been this lost for words before.

They needed to cool down, their face was too hot. They’d take their jacket off if it wasn’t being used as a shield to hide their face.

He grabbed his milkshake and began drinking it continuously, eyes fixated on whatever was in front of him.

“Slow down,” Sweet chided, “you’re gonna get another brain freeze,” he leaned his head down to meet Cakes’ face. Immediately Sweet sat up and turned from the others, hand over his speaker as he held back a laugh.

Cakes seemed to shrink into themself.

Cap’n placed a hand on their shoulder, turning their chair to face him. “Cakes?” he asked, worried. “Hey, are you– ?” He placed a hand on Cakes’ face only to bring it back upon feeling the heat emitting from their partner.

Embarrassed eyes refused to meet his, instead focusing on the checkered flooring of the diner. Count the squares. Don’t look up. Why not? Cakes had never been shy before. If anything he was actively aware of how nonchalant he was when they would all flirt or kiss. This was just different. Why was it so different? He cowered more into the neck of his jacket.

Sweet gasped for air as he laughed, banging his fist on the table. He’d never seen Cakes flustered before. And to think that their Cap’n did that!

Cap’n also hid his face, a little embarrassed himself, “I didn’t know... I was that good,” he scoffed light-heartedly. “I, uh… hmm,” he faced away, taking a big gulp of his milkshake.

At least Cakes knew the surprise flavor now. Blueberry Cheesecake.

#sweet cap'n cakes #deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #k k deltarune #sweet deltarune #musical nerds special #milkshake date!#musical nerds #polyrhythm #cap'n deltarune #[r0b0.rqst]

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

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Sugar and Coffee [14]

Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 14.5 OR Chapter 15

➜ Words: 4.7k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

“After we’ve rolled our gum paste and cut it, we want to pinch the ends while tucking and rolling all the edges to thin it out and distort the shape. Peonies aren’t perfect after all.” You follow closely after her, taking the ball tool to make press it into the sugar petal and roughening the ridges. Sejeong continues to explain, “It’s a back and forth motion. Just trace the edge. Like that. When you’re happy with it, just add it to the covered center. Slide it up, like so, and then fold them up and make it tight. Overlap them and there we go! We have our bud. Repeat it for the other layers and watch that alignment. When it’s dry, you can colour it with petal dust.” When the older woman finally looks over, she’s stunned. “That’s lovely, Y/N!” “Really?” You turn your head up, eyes burning after concentrating so hard while trying to follow along. “Yes, you’re a very fast learner. I thought I would have to show you at least a few more times, but it looks like you’re on the right track. See? Isn’t this a lot more fun than just piping flowers?” “It’s more realistic.” You smile. “Thanks for showing me.” “It’s not a problem. I’ll be right back, so keep on going.” She pats your shoulder and leaves for the front where her husband should be, probably in consultation with a couple. You continue, folding the petals up so the flower looks like it’s blooming. But then your focus is shattered by a frustrated grunt from across the island. “How are you doing this?” Jungkook’s eyes bore holes into the flowers you’ve completed. You grin at him and stick it into the styrofoam. Brushing your hands off, you walk over to see his attempt of a flower. It appears more like a squashed bug. “Are you adding the glue? Your petals are too thin, Jungkook. That’s why they’re breaking apart. Not too thin, but not too thick. Here, watch.” You demonstrate despite how Sejeong already helped him individually for the past half hour. You take another rolled piece of sugar paste, cut the pattern out and pinch lightly. “See? Try it.” You hand it off and watch diligently over his shoulder as he uses the ball tool. “Like this?” “You can put a bit more pressure than that.” Your hand gingerly wraps around his wrist, guiding his motion. Jungkook’s eyes flicker to you in the meanwhile, staring. He’s noticed it for a while now — it’s hard not to when his eyes constantly stray to you. But it’s clear you’re falling in love with making wedding cakes. That you’ve found a passion within this industry. It makes him glad to see you like this. It's hard though. Since it makes you that much more attractive. “Jungkook?” He puts down the tool and knocks his head back with a long, loud sigh. “Ugh. I can’t do it.” “Psh. Quit whining, baby. You can do it.” Jungkook looks at you, suddenly quiet. He leans in, doe eyes searching your expression. There might be something on your face, but he doesn’t say anything. You start to lean back when he gets too close yet the boy hovers over you, an inch away. You can feel his breath on your skin as the heat rises onto your cheeks. Jungkook’s lips part. “Can’t you do it for me?” You snort, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. “Yeah, right. You wish. You’re never going to learn how to do it if I do it for you.” Jungkook sulks as you return to your station. “I’m not even a fan of flowers. They always die.” “Well lucky for you, these don’t die or wilt. We just eat them,” you chirp mischievously before barking, “Hurry up, we have to learn how to use royal icing and pipe lace!” Jungkook scoffs lightly and tries to continue. Even if he’s a complete amateur, it’s cute to see him so concentrated. The daily routine has fallen into place. The pair of you have learned what you need to do and it’s easy to fall into a rhythm when it’s a consistent cycle of consultations and wedding cake making, practicing techniques and cleaning. And it’s not just you two who are in and out of the kitchen. Yuna comes often to help out every other day, usually flanking Jungkook’s side much to his dismay or being amazed at your piping and sugar decorating. “How’d you do that?” She looks at you inquisitively. “How’d I do what?” “Make those flowers,” Yuna asks, mesmerized at your piping. “Mine looks so…” “Here.” You smile softly to the younger girl. “I’ll help you. When you squeeze the cream out of the bag….” You enjoy the work — it’s fulfilling to see satisfied couples on their beautiful day enjoying a slice of what you’ve created. The cakes are breathtaking when they’re complete too and you can’t believe that you’ve actually done it. That you played a big part in making a day they’ll remember forever. Jungkook seems to like it as well — maybe not as much as you, but at least when he has some time with Namjoon and the two of them work on chocolate. They always discuss things you don’t understand and often turn the kitchen’s temperature all the way down to keep the chocolate from melting. It always makes the rest of you run away to seek warmth. “Have you ever tried sculpting chocolate, son? Made any chocolate showpieces?” “I tried to make a building once but it didn’t really end up working out.” “It collapsed on you?” “It ended up being a mess.” “Ah, I know how that feels. The first sculpture I ever tried was a phoenix and it was a disaster. But don’t worry. You’re in good hands now.” Namjoon laughs heartily. “You’re talking to the master of masters here, self-proclaimed, of course.” Jungkook grins and when asked what he would like to make first, his thoughts automatically stray to you. He hears your muffled voice filter from the front entrance, laughing with Sejeong. “Is it….possible to make flowers? Like a bouquet and a vase or something?” “Yes, great idea actually! It’s simple enough to build the rest of our foundation on.” They start to pull out bowls and saucepans. “Chocolate sculptures basically break down into three types….” You’re glad to be here, even when there were so many rumours that wedding cake internships were the hardest. Somehow, you always feel satisfied at the end of the day. Especially with Jungkook by your side.

“Well, you should congratulate them afterwards” “Why? Just do it after you ask for their names.” “But then you have to do it afterwards anyway and that gets repetitive.” “It’s not repetition to congratulate them on their engagement,” you argue. “It’s called good customer service.” Jungkook scoffs. “I bet they’re tired of hearing it all the time. It’s just unnecessary, and what happens if they’re not happy about it?” Your brow cocks. “They’re not happy to be getting married?” “You never know the situation of these couples.” The little shit shrugs, simply playing devil’s advocate to fuel the banter and relish in how easy it is to make you argumentative. “Maybe it’s a marriage of convenience or an arranged marriage or they’re doing it to get a visa.” “I highly doubt that, Jeon.” “I’m just saying it’s not impossible, so it’s better to be safe than sorry.” “And only congratulate them once?” “Exactly.” “You’re fun at parties.” His arm wraps around your waist and he flashes the biggest smile. “The funnest.” Before you can utter a single word, the bell at the front rings and Jungkook’s warmth is gone from an instant. He takes a step to the side like he never showed you physical affection in the first place. “Welcome to Kim’s Wedding Catering Company. Do you have an appointment?” The woman, with long blonde hair draped down her backside, pushes her sunglasses up her head. She tugs her expensive pea coat that’s keeping her warm over her dress and leggings. She looks familiar somehow, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. “Yes, I do.” “Congratulations on your engagement!” you quickly interject, much to Jungkook’s dismay. You grin at him and he has to repress his smile, simply shaking his head to show his disapproval. The woman smiles. “Thank you. My name should be under Kim Chungha.” Jungkook flips open the book, but your brows furrow. Your brain searches. You’ve heard that name somewhere before. Wait a minute… “There she is!” Sejeong emerges from her office with a wide grin. She opens the gate to waltz to the woman and engulf her in an embrace. “I almost thought you weren’t coming!” “Sorry, I was running late.” Jungkook leans over to you. “Who is she?” “It’s Sejeong’s sister,” you say and he nods, enlightened. “These were the two interns I was telling you about, Y/N and Jungkook. Y/N and Jungkook, this is my dearest, younger sister, Chungha.” “Nice to meet you.” She comes over to shake your hand and Jungkook’s. Chungha turns to her sister, expression endeared. “They’re so cute.” “Yeah, the young ones always are. Full of that hard-working spirit,” she muses. “How long are you staying here for?” Chungha glances at her wrist watch. “I have twenty minutes give or take.” “Perfect. I’ll let these two give you a cake tasting and then you can be on your way.” “Are you sure you don’t want me to look at the design or anything?” Chungha asks, voice moving up a few pitches. “You don’t want me to decide the tiers or look or the flowers or the decorations? I read online that the cake should match the theme of the wedding.” “Aren’t you stressed enough with all your other wedding arrangements? At least let one thing at your wedding be a surprise.” Sejeong scoffs, hands placed on her hips. “If you can’t even trust Namjoon and I, then who can you trust?” “Alright, alright.” Chungha concedes and Sejeong allows the pair of you to take over, not wanting to influence her sister’s opinion too much. She leaves and you follow the usual protocol, taking out the decorated slices of cake on the long plate for her to try. “How long have you guys worked here for?” she asks as she tastes the first one. “For several weeks now.” You quirk your head to the side. “Two? Three?” “I think three,” Jungkook agrees. “I know they were pretty swamped ever since Soohyun went on maternity leave, so I’m glad that they have two more sets of hands here helping out. But do you guys enjoy working here?” The older woman’s eyes are curious. “You can be honest, it’s okay. I won’t tell. I know my sister can be tough.” “I actually really like it. I don’t know about him.” You laugh while hitching a thumb to the person beside you, throwing Jungkook under the bus completely. He’s stunned and Chungha takes the opportunity you’ve set up to tease him too. “Ooh, so you’re the slacker, huh?” “No. That’s not it,” he defends. “I just wouldn’t say I’m passionate about making sugar flowers and piping and stacking cakes.” “Which is half the job,” you chime. “I like the chocolate work and the people I work with,” Jungkook says with a cheeky smirk, outright staring at you. Your face heats like a furnace and you divert your vision elsewhere, mustering a half-hearted scoff and retort. Chungha notices the exchange and smiles to herself. She tries the next slice, and suddenly hums. “I really like this one. Is it chocolate?” “It’s chocolate with ganache.” “Well I guess, I finally found the one!” Sejeong’s younger sister is pleasant. She’s kind compared to the many bridezillas you encounter on a daily basis that request a gluten free, vegan friendly, and dairy-free cake in the shape of a heart with a large, customized slice for Uncle Joe. Chungha even compliments you both as great workers and leaves praise to both Namjoon and Sejeong that you appreciate. You find out that she’s getting married in three weeks — a destination wedding in French Polynesia right by the beach. Apparently the whole venue is ready and the last step was the cake that her own sister was going to make. With the way she describes it, it sounds lovely. You wish you could come see it for yourself. “We’re not taking any bookings since we’re going to have to close up shop for the wedding,” Namjoon mentions passingly. “Oh, how long will you guys be gone for?” “We’ll probably be gone for about a week,” Sejeong says. “We need to get there at least three to four days before Chungha’s wedding to prepare the cake and then maybe two or three days afterwards just to enjoy ourselves. It’s not often we’re in a resort in French Polynesia.” You exchange a discreet look with Jungkook. A week off doesn’t sound so bad. Kind of nice actually. But then Namjoon exclaims— “So you two better start packing!” “What?” You whirl your head over. Jungkook is a deer in headlights. “We’re coming?” “Of course you two are coming.” Namjoon laughs exuberantly. “We’re going to need all the help we can get! The flight and room is counted as business expenses, so you guys don’t need to worry about anything. Think of it as a business trip slash vacation privilege that you get in this internship.” “Weren’t you supposed to tell them about this on their first day?” Sejeong frowns, mouth dropping open. “Did you forget?” “Was I?” Her husband chuckles tensely much to his wife’s exasperation. “Can I come?!” Yuna interjects herself, standing on the tips of her toes, excited by the proposition. “School is done for me then!” “This is Sejeong’s side of the family and I’m sure she already has all her guests already planned. It’s rude to crash someone’s wedding.” Namjoon lolls his head to the side, waiting to see how his niece will argue. The young girl pouts. “Yeah, but Chungha knows me. Plus, I’m not just a guest. I’d be helping with the wedding cake.” “Okay.” Namjoon seems to contemplate it and the girl is hopeful until he smiles, revealing the other trick he has up his sleeve. “But what about your summer school?” “I…” Yuna opens her mouth and then closes it. “I can always skip or...catch up later.” “I don’t think so, missy. Your dad’s going to have a word with me if you fail math again and then you wouldn’t be able to work here at all.” The high schooler pouts, stamping her foot. “This sucks.” “We’ll come back sooner than you expect,” Jungkook says and she looks up at him. The boy smiles gingerly like an older brother to a younger sister. “We’ll get you a souvenir.” “Really?” “Yeah, sure.” That seems enough to placate her and Yuna hums underneath her breath as she continues on. It’s cute to see their interaction. You and Jungkook buzzing with excitement too. You’ve never been to French Polynesia and traveling while working is a win-win. It couldn’t get better than this. // “What a coincidence — I may or may not have been shopping online late last night again and impulsively got myself a sun hat. Now I can put it to good use. I should probably buy a new dress or two or maybe sandals,” you sing-song. Jungkook is amused at how you’re throwing all your money away practically in a fire pit — but you like to argue it’s money well spent. Better than him buying video games, anime figurines, and more IU merch. “Should I get a bathing suit?” “Be careful. You might just blind everyone on the beach.” “Okay, fuck off, Jeon.” “I’m just kidding.” He laughs cheekily and when he passes by you, he taps your nose lightly. You blink and Jungkook boyishly smiles. “You could go topless if you wanted and I wouldn’t mind. Trust me.” “Gross.” Your expression blanches and he cackles, moving away. “I will if you wear a speedo.” “Yeah and I might be the one to get arrested when my goods spill.” Your eyes roll. “Not if we go to a nude beach.” “Is that a proposition?” Jungkook’s irises sparkle in the light. You flick flour towards him. “You wish.” It’s another one of those late nights. The both of you are off work but are still willingly here. The shop is closed, Namjoon and Sejeong gone, but you’re still using their kitchen to practice what you’ve learnt. They’re happy to let you use their space as long as you keep it tidy and clean. Some of Jungkook’s music is playing softly in the background and you’re tapping your foot to the rhythm. You’re working on a sugar rose that’s abundant in petals, dusting the tips with a light pink. There’s a long silence as you concentrate, the jazzy melody keeping the kitchen from being solely white noise. And right when you’re about to finish, Jungkook’s arm slings over your shoulder. He presses to your side and leans over to look. “Woah. Did you do that?” “Who else would’ve, dumbass—” Giggles bubble out of your throat when he starts to tickle you. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean it! Jungkook!” He lets up, but is still sulking. “Show me any more attitude and I’m going to hold you down for a tickle torture, brat.” You’re rendered speechless at his dominance, but he pays no mind, too busy looking at the sugar flower. “I was going to say that it’s amazing. It looks real, Y/N. Better than real actually.” “Thanks.” “How’d you get so good so fast?” “I don’t know.” You can’t help being bashful. Jungkook’s stare is intense and you clear your throat obnoxiously, getting a grip. “Maybe cause I don’t suck.” His brow twitches. You jump out of the way before another tickle attack can ensue. You laugh as he starts to chase after you. “Jungkook! We’re not supposed to run in the kitchen! It’s a safety hazard, don’t you remember bakery safety and sanitation?!” “Then stop running, Y/N.” He’s on the other side of the island as you round a corner. Every direction you walk, he mirrors you. “No, you first!” “You started it.” There’s no way you can win against his muscle pig-ness, so your eyes flicker to the door and with a breath held, you book it to the doorway. Unfortunately for you, Jungkook already detected your plan the minute your eyes strayed away from him. And with two strides, he has his arms around your waist. He pulls you up in the air as you giggle and squeal. “Caught you.” Jungkook grins. “I win.” “Okay, okay!” He puts you down in front of his station. There are metal sheet trays on the counter with something rather special on them. “Is this what you’ve been working on with Namjoon?” “Not exactly.” Jungkook smiles. “We had some leftover strawberries that no one was using so I made my infamous chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes.” “They look too pretty to eat.” He did a good job with the piping. The frosting is a light colour of taffy, swirled on top with the chocolate strawberry. “This was what Taehyung was raving about, right?” “Yep.” He picks one up, holding it in front of you. You’re about to take the cupcake from his hands, but he clicks his tongue in annoyance and retracts his arm. “Nuh-uh.” You pout at him, but give in anyhow. Your hand wraps around his wrist so he can’t play any games and you allow him to feed you. You bite into the cupcake and immediately, the moist chocolate is gooey in your mouth. The frost is overwhelming with the fresh taste of strawberry, the texture rather silky. Your eyes widen as you chew, the taste developing, and he watches your reaction with a pleased smile. Jungkook takes the strawberry on top that’s dipped in dark chocolate and drizzled with white chocolate. He urges you to part your lips and you bite down. The chocolate is tempered, falling apart into pieces. But it melts on your palate. The flavour is sweet but the fruit is refreshing, chocolate smooth. It’s an explosion. You almost cream your pants. “Oh my god.” You swallow it reluctantly, wanting to keep the taste forever on your tongue. “Taehyung was right. I think I almost creamed my pants.” His nose wrinkles. “All of you guys are so disgusting. But it’s good, right?” “It’s fucking amazing. Jungkook, you could open up a business just selling these.” You secure your hands on his shoulder, shaking him to his senses. You can’t believe that he’s never thought of this. That he’s never done anything with such an incredible recipe. Jungkook laughs boyishly. You let go, looking at the tray that’s appearing more like a gold mine. “H-Holy shit!” “If I had to make these all day, I think I would be bored to death.” He throws the rest of the cupcake into his own mouth, chewing in his cheek. “Can you give me the recipe then?” Your eyes are glimmering. This is big. If he doesn’t want to make a profit from it, then you can. This and Yoongi and Taehyung’s lemon meringue pie, you’ll be swimming in bills in no time. Jungkook flicks your forehead and your fantasy shatters. “I don’t think so. I might like you, but not enough to sell my secrets.” You pout at him, rubbing the spot he flicked that doesn’t even hurt that much. If he won’t give you the recipe, then you want to at least eat one more. “Can I have another one?” “You can have all of them,” Jungkook says nonchalantly with a grin. Your expression lights up like a lamp. “Really?” “Yes, really. I made them for you.” You wonder if you can reverse engineer this somehow and figure out the recipe. But knowing you, you’ll probably end up burning saucepans trying to get the chocolate right and knowing Jungkook, he most likely threw in a secret ingredient that no one would ever think of. “I’ll pack them up for you.” He grabs a paper box. “If you eat all of them without having dinner first, you’ll have a stomach ache. Dessert’s always last for a reason.” You watch him and it hits you in a delayed manner that Jungkook stayed late when he didn’t need to. He wasn’t working on anything. He just stayed to make these. “Where do you want to eat?” “How about Alberto’s?” “Sure.” Jungkook finishes packing and helps you clean up. He opts to wash the dishes and tells you to go sweep instead. As the boy scrubs the plates and utensils, he sings along to the music and you listen quietly. When all is done, the lights are turned off and the door to the shop is closed up and locked. Your steps and his fall into a rhythm. “Oh, you know that movie you wanted to watch? When Spring Meets Autumn? It’s playing tonight. We can go after dinner and I’ll pay since I have a two for one deal coupon anyway. The reviews aren’t great, but it shouldn’t be too bad.” “What are you doing?” You suddenly stop in the middle of the empty sidewalk, underneath the street lamp that warmly illuminates both of your figures in the crisp, cool night of the city. Jungkook halts with you. The light softly glows on his skin. He tilts his head to the side, doe eyes gazing into yours. “What do you mean?” “I mean this. Us. What is this?” You gesture between your bodies, conflicted to no end as the realization sinks into you. “Going out to eat, going to the movies together…” “We’ve done these things before.” “Yeah, but it's...different.” You can feel it. It’s not like two friends going to grab a bite together or going to the theater to purposely catch a bad movie and shit on it afterwards. There’s something there. You don’t know what it is or even how to explain why the dynamic between the two of you has shifted so drastically. “How so?” Jungkook questions. Maybe he’s egging you on, trying to get you to utter a coherent response. There’s no way he doesn’t feel this too. “Like….this.” You lift your bag that has the box full of chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes. “Baking things for me. Staying with me after work. Waiting for me in the morning. Washing my dishes. Buying me lunch. Getting breakfast prepared. Putting your arm around me. Tapping my nose….just...things….like that.” Slowly the corners of his mouth curl. Jungkook casually digs his hands in his hoodie pocket. “I’m courting you, Y/N.” “What?” You’re absolutely stunned. “This is what people do when they like someone.” Jungkook keeps walking and when he realizes you aren’t following, he spins back around. “It isn’t complicated. I want to spend more time with you, so I am.” Jungkook continues moving, and you snap back to reality. Your body is in motion, trying to catch up to his side. But you’re still dazed, not knowing what to say. But there’s no need for you to utter a word. The topic casually changes like he had been previously discussing the weather. You feel unsettled, not sure what this means. It’s almost been half a year since Seokjin broke up with you. You’re not sure if you’re ready. And it scares you even more that Jungkook makes you want to be ready.

You’re feeling it frequently these days— A panicked sensation brewing in the pit of your stomach. As if you have an inkling of what’s to come and your intuition is preparing yourself. Like seconds before you spill milk, or a glass cup is about to hit the hard floor. Moments before catastrophe that the tickle in your tummy ignites. You can’t move or react quick enough, but your brain knows it’s going to happen either way. You’re quite confident this discomfort is dread, a sense of foreboding. Either that or it’s the feeling is butterflies. Maybe it’s both. You haven’t decided. But you feel it most strongly when you look at Jeon Jungkook. Him and that stupid, big nose of his and those sparkly eyes as if his mom inhaled a tube of glitter before he was born. It’s just awful the way he doesn’t even notice. It’s awful when he scrunches those brows of his, when his eyes are darkened in concentration, and his pouted lips are downturned. It’s awful when he rolls sleeves up to his elbows and his veins are popping from his forearms. It’s awful when his fingers and knuckles are kneading into dough and he’s panting, out of breath and breaking a sweat. It’s awful when he’s focusing hard on his work and trying his best. God. It’s just stressful looking at Jungkook. It’s distracting. You try not to look at him. As if he were the sun and too blinding for you to face. But he’s always in your peripheral. He’s always the person you pick out first in a crowd. No matter what he does, you always seem to pick it up. It’s appalling. “Are you okay, Y/N?” Sejeong’s question brings you back down to the ground, crashing the train of thoughts that should’ve been stopped long ago. “Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out a little.” You stiffly laugh and she nods. “All ready for the trip?” “Yup! I’m all packed.” “Good. I’m giving you a fair warning that it’s going to be hot, so dress appropriately. Wouldn’t want any of my interns getting heat strokes.” You bob your head and quickly steal another glance into the kitchen area. “Hey, Sejeong. Do you know what Namjoon and Jungkook are working on?” The older woman smiles, stealing a brief glimpse. “Last I heard, they were trying to make a bouquet of flowers.” Flowers? You thought Jungkook hated them.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #btsboulangerie #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook reader insert #sugar and coffee #JUNGKOOK AS A MF SMOOTH DUDE #Y'ALL IM SCREAMING #honestly editing this chapter has healed my soul

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nakachuchu · 4 years ago

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── Sweets Event

NOTE: Thank you for 1900 supporters! This blog started off as a way for me to be horny but I'm so glad people like my writing and request from me. Here is my very first event!

UPDATE: I ended up getting to 2K during this event, so thank you!

START-END: April 6, 2021 - April 13, 2021

STATUS: closed

HOW TO ORDER: Pick a sweet + quote + any optional choices + gender [neutral or female]

EXAMPLE 1: "Can I get grape juice with a #3 quote fluff in a high school AU with a gn reader for Yuuji + Megumi poly relationship?"

EXAMPLE 2: "Can I get a angst green tea Kit Kat with a #18 quote and a #6 prompt with a female reader for Haruhi?"

RULES

This is solely a sfw event. Suggestive themes may happen and that's fine.

When requesting, please let me know if its angst or fluff since some of the quotes can be taken either way.

I will cross out something/someone I am no longer writing for so make sure to check before making a request.

This is honestly like my normal requests, but revolving around sweets :)

You must either pick a quote(s) and/or a prompt to go with your order.

Characters I will write for

Jujutsu Kaisen: Yuuji, Megumi, Toge, Nanami, Yuuta, Jin, Choso, noritoshi, toji, polyamory/love triangles

Haikyu!!: Sugawara, Daichi, Ushijima, Kita, Noya, Akaashi, Bokuto, Lev, Hinata, Aone, Tanaka, polyamory/love triangle

Ouran High School Host Club: Mori, Haruhi, Tamaki

Attack on Titan (AU's only): Armin, Yelena, Eren

Sweets

[specific flavor] ice cream

[specific] juice

[specific] cereal

[specific] candy

[specific flavor] sweet snack (Kit Kat, pocky, Oreo, etc)

[specific type] cookie

[specific flavor] lollipop

[specific flavor] cake

[specific flavor] cupcake

[specific flavor] mochi

[specific fruit flavor] smoothie

[specific flavor] milk tea

Any other sweets/snacks I'm missing

Quotes [pick this or a prompt]

"We're just friends."

"Kiss me."

"If anyone asks, you're my date."

"Don't look at me like that."

"I think I'm in love with you."

"Can you come over?"

"I have a confession."

"Are you happy now?"

"Stay."

"Please don't leave me."

"I don't feel the same way."

"I hate you."

"I trusted you."

"Could you not follow me around like a lost puppy?"

"You don't know me at all, do you?"

"Let's get married."

"I could listen to you all day."

"You make it so easy to love you."

"I want to hold you and never let go."

"I promised to love you forever."

"How did I manage to get you?"

"I'm not going to hold your hand."

"Eyes up here, baby."

"Careful of wandering hands. I bite."

"Why are you breathing like that?"

"Your eyes. Holy shit."

"I think—No, I am—in love with you."

"You are adorable. Now get off me."

"It looks cuter on you anyway."

"I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you. Just you wait."

"Your hair smells nice."

"What happened to us?"

"Can I sleep in your room? I'm scared."

"Is that my hoodie?"

"Can I paint your nails?"

"Did you just take my picture?" "Yep, it's my lock screen now."

"Did you just take my ___?" "Sharing is caring."

"Are you flirting with me?"

"___ or ___?" "I'm allergic to both."

"Don't hold my hand." "Why?" "I hate it when you let go."

Your own quote!

Prompts [pick this or a quote]

You caught them cheating on you with your friend

They drunk call you after your break-up

You're dead. How are they?

You flinch while arguing with them

You pulled at all-nighter and look like crap

You work at a book store and they meet you there

Your dogs like each other at the park

You wake up in Vegas next to them and learn that you're married to them

You don't know how to swim

Your own prompt!

Alternative Universes [optional]

Soulmates

Roommates

Doctor/Nurse

Doctor/Patient

Office

High school

University: classmates

University: professor/student

Arranged marriage

Reincarnation

Vampire

Robot boyfriend/girlfriend

Rent a boyfriend/girlfriend

Actor/Actress

Mermaid/Merman

Model

Photographer

Zombie apocalypse

Bodyguard

Musician

Your own AU!

Snacks that are taken

I've written with: Frosting, syrup, cherry taffy, orange tart, peaches and cream, red bean daifuku, ice cream bar, green tea ice cream, green tea cake, chocolate cupcakes, hot chocolate, plum jam cookies, taro milk tea, brownies

Sweet blackberry smoothie

Raspberry cake

Blueberry cupcake

M&M cookie

Vanilla ice cream

Wintermelon milk tea

Chocolate cheesecake

Butterscotch ice cream

Cherry lollipop

Strawberry mochi

Thai milk tea

Lavender milk tea

Banana cake

Sakura mochi

Sour apple lollipop

Ice cream mochi

Orange juice

Blueberry cheesecake

Raspberry & white chocolate cake

Milk Pocky

Chocolate pocky

Hot milk

Black sugar milk tea

Spiderweb cheesecake

Monster cookies

choco fudge brownie ice cream

Strawberry cake

Hanami dango

Strawberry milkshake

Matcha pocky

Mango milk tea

Red velvet cake

Banana nut bread

Lemon cake

Cookies & Cream ice cream

Mint ice cream

[unspecificed flavor] ice cream mochi

#Jean's event #follower event

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westallenfun · 4 years ago

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Two's Company (1/3)

Westallen secret santa gift

For: Lauren (@backtothestart02) (I hope you like this fic!)

From: Lina (@cheryls-blossomed)

A/N: A special thank you to my beta, Caroline (@ginandweas).

Inspired by Jane Austen’s Emma, and the blissfulness and hardship of tumbling into true love. On the eve of publication of the most important article of her professional career thus far, Iris West realizes that she is head over heels in love with her best friend, Barry Allen, but grapples with revealing her true feelings, for fear of completely ruining their friendship. But a weekend trip to Metropolis sets in motion a series of events, with romantic mishaps and conundrums abound, that may in fact force both Barry and Iris to face some long-awaited, romantic truths.

Rated: T (Warnings: Mild language)

Perhaps the most notable visual extravagance at wedding receptions is the abundance of balloons, flowers, and the chiffon backdrops, draped like curtains, framing the table whereon sat the wedding cake.

Iris is already trying to determine how she might steal away a few balloons, because really, nobody would miss them, and she had, after all, been the one sitting with the wedding planner for days on end, painstakingly selecting a theme for the reception and agonizing over every detail. Surely, after all her efforts, a few balloons going missing at the end of the party would be forgiven, if not unnoticeable. And she would be surreptitious about it too, seeing as how she would wait until the final guests, likely pleasantly drunk on champagne, rosé, and Prosecco, stumbled their way out of the Central City Gold Hotel.

“Nice work, West.” Iris looks up to see her heavily pregnant sister-in-law take a seat next to her, while cradling a rather magnificent sundae in her hands, spoon hanging precariously atop the hazelnut fudge.

“Thanks, but don’t you call my brother ‘West?’ Could get confusing,” Iris says, raising one eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I’m married to Wally. Have been for three years. And so, it doesn’t have the same effect with him anymore. That’s the troublesome thing about marriage.”

“Classic Linda Park logic,” Iris murmurs, before once again focusing on the balloons. They are all the same shade of ivory, which made them particularly functional. For gift-giving purposes, that is. Gift-giving, Iris knows, is all about the presentation.

“No, but seriously, Iris. I’m impressed. Joe and Cecile deserve the best, and this is, honestly, the best.”

“Thanks, Linda. Dad deserves a perfect wedding day. As does Cecile. To be honest, I didn’t expect it to come together as beautifully as it did, but I’m still praying we see this thing to the end without any hiccups. We’ve got…” Iris taps the screen of her phone to check the time, “About three hours, at least, left.”

“And it’s probably especially important to you. You know, because you played matchmaker for Joe and Cecile,” Linda says, while spooning a generous amount of ice cream, topped with fudge and sprinkles and coconut flakes, into her mouth. Iris’s brow furrows,

“I did not ‘match-make’ my dad and Cecile. We’ve been over this Linda…” Linda begins to interrupt, but Iris shakes her head, “I know you seem to think that because I introduced my dad to Cecile that somehow this is my doing, but that’s untrue. To be honest, I didn’t expect them to hit it off so well, let alone date and get married within a year of my introducing them.” Cecile owns an interior design shop, which Iris had visited when she was helping Barry decorate his new apartment— a memory which immediately brings a smile to Iris’s face, for she fondly recalls Barry frantically searching eBay for a bed and a couch, and the way she had persuaded him that that was a terrible idea and instead found her way to Cecile’s trendy furniture boutique, which was also quite affordable. Cecile was so friendly and sweet, and Iris remembered her father struggling to date again, as it had been nearly a decade and a half since her mother had passed away, and so when she had thrown Barry a housewarming party, Iris figured that there was no harm in inviting Cecile, who had become friends with both Barry and Iris after hours spent together at the boutique, and introducing her to her dad. That had been a year ago. Now, they are at Joe West and Cecile Horton’s wedding reception.

“Well, we can debate semantics, but you definitely match-maked Wally and me. You can’t deny that,” Linda says, matter-of-factly, before eating another scoop of her sundae.

“I wouldn’t call it match-making. More like I have a sense for people that I know well and then introduce them, thinking that they may potentially like each other.”

“You set Wally and I up on a blind date six years ago, and now we’re married and have twins on the way. I would say there’s a diabolical matchmaking side to you. Don’t tell me you don’t feel accomplished every time you successfully match-make a couple.”

“Linda, I’ve only successfully match-maked— to use your word, which I still find objectionable, by the way— two couples. One was my brother and you. And you’re my best friend. The other was my dad and Cecile. That’s hardly a track record of successful matchmaking.”

“But it could be. Think about it. This could be a lucrative side hustle.”

“As if I would have time for a match-making side hustle, even if that was something I was interested in doing. I finally got my news site up and running, and The Citizen needs all hands on deck and then some. Besides, a matchmaking business is an exploitative way to make money.”

“Mmm, maybe,” Linda seems to ponder this, momentarily, before changing topics, abruptly, “Speaking of which, I’m your best friend now? Thought that was a privilege exclusively afforded to Barry,” Iris has heard this before and rolls her eyes, exasperated,

“My friendship with Barry is different. You know that.”

“Actually I don’t know that. But I would love to be enlightened about that.” Linda’s response is far too smug for Iris’s liking, but before she can retort, she hears a familiar voice behind her, a voice that unquestionably wraps Iris in a cocoon of warmth, so that she feels instantly home,

“I heard my name.” And although she cannot see him yet, she knows he’s smiling.

“Was wondering where you were, Allen. It’s a rare sight that you and Iris would be separated at any point, when in the same vicinity.” Barry chuckles at Linda’s quip, settling into the chair on Iris’s right and brushing away a few plastic flowers that had come undone from the upholstery. Iris glances up at him, smiling widely, which he’s reciprocating in equal measure. He sets a plate, containing a chocolate fudge brownie topped with mint chocolate chip ice cream, in front of her. Iris’s eyes widen, as she glances from the plate to Barry; her face alight with unadulterated joy.

“My hero,” she gasps, squeezing his hand and then truly taking in the scrumptious display of gooey chocolate and ice cream goodness.

“Always,” he whispers, gazing at her, affectionately, before continuing, “I was wrangling the last brownie from old Mrs. Rogers, who apparently wanted to share it between herself and her cat. Although I don’t know,” Barry pauses for a moment, glancing around the reception hall, “if her cat is even here. Doubtful. Regardless, it took a great deal of speed, stealth, and possibly defying Newton’s first law of physics, because I could have sworn that I willed the brownie in my direction without even touching it, to retrieve this dessert.”

“Don’t lie, Bear,” Iris says, her eyes sparkling with laughter, as she eagerly grabs her dessert fork, “Mrs. Rogers would never argue with you, if you wanted that brownie. She loves you.”

“Yeah, it was just my regular, old charm. And by charm, I mean, because I tutor her grandson, Matt, in chemistry.” (Linda snorts at that.) “Still, I think defying Newton’s first law makes for a better story. But nobody was getting this brownie except for you, Iris. You know, we wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t for you. I mean, just look at this place. It looks fantastic,” he raves, gesturing towards the décor, “The work you put into this is amazing. You’re amazing.”

“Thank you, Barry.” She’s touched, not just because Barry managed to negotiate the last brownie from poor, old Mrs. Rogers with his rather endearing, tripping-over-his-feet-type charm, but also because he is being, as usual, so disarmingly complimentary of her. Barry never expects her to be amazing; he just thinks she’s amazing always, even when she’s at her lowest or when she is mistaken, and when Iris reflects deeply on that, it overwhelms her. It forces her to dwell on feelings untold; on how, whenever she sees him, she can’t help but smile, almost as if by instinct.

But she can’t think about it. She won’t think about it.

“Before you got here, Barry. I was telling Iris how she should really get into a matchmaking side hustle,” Linda says, forcing Iris to focus on the conversation taking place and not on… well, a place where she refuses to go. A place which she cannot explore.

“Matchmaking?” Barry leans back, resting his arm on the back of Iris’s chair. “I don’t think that’s even remotely close to anything Iris-like.” Iris is acutely aware of how close his arm is to the bare skin of her upper back, but she ignores this. Or tries to.

“Exactly. And so I was telling Linda how that’s an awful idea, and how I am pretty sure a matchmaking business, where I have zero actual knowledge about strangers’ interpersonal relationships, could be fraudulent. I can’t possibly claim to be an expert. I mean, no guarantees, right? Seems like a colossal waste of people’s money,” Iris remarks, still trying not to think about Barry’s arm on her chair, right near her back. And how (she thinks she had just imagined it but, no, it was real) he had seemingly shifted his arm, so his fingers are now grazing her skin; his touch is feather-light, equally comforting as it is emboldening.

“That could be the genius of it, though. Enough people want to pay money for a matchmaker, even if it’s probably not going to be any more successful than a dating app. Throw in some good, old Cosmopolitan level astrology knowledge for marketing purposes. And there you have it. A potentially incredibly lucrative endeavor. Maybe I should start it myself,” Linda says, while still enjoying her sundae.

“Why waste money on a matchmaker? Sometimes something incredible is right in front of you, and you just have to tell yourself it’s time to throw caution to the wind. A matchmaker can’t tell you that, only you can know that,” Barry sounds wistful when he says this, and Iris turns to him, abruptly, studying his expression. He’s looking straight ahead, but his gaze is demonstrable of clear desire, and upon hearing such longing in his voice, her stomach drops. Because that’s the face of someone in love. That’s the sound of someone in love. That’s the sound of someone who’s found their someone. But who could her Barry have found? When did he find someone?

Iris is contemplating this, her stomach churning with her every thought, when the conversation shifts to pregnancy, as Linda comments how she’s always hungry and moody thanks to,

“…These two whom Wally impregnated me with.” To which Barry laughs, his fingers still softly grazing Iris’s back, while Iris forces herself to smile along and even joke that Linda had talked her ear off about how much she wanted babies and how maybe she shouldn’t have gotten so ahead of herself. But Iris’s mind is still on Barry potentially having found someone. She knows she should be happy, monumentally happy, because Barry is happy, so she cannot fathom why she feels like she’s about to vomit. Suddenly, she has no appetite for her brownie and ice cream, but she eats to evade suspicion, because Barry would surely know something is wrong if she fails to eat her dessert. But from the way he’s carefully watching her, maybe he does know something is wrong already, and Iris wishes, not for the first time, that they did not know each other’s every fidget and expression, signaling a mood shift, so well.

When the wedding reception is over and after Iris has said goodbye to every guest and promised her father and Cecile that she would be at their house the next day for their family dinner, she manages to take three ivory balloons with her to her car, without a single guest noticing. The decorator who had stayed to help her wrap up tells her that she can take any number of balloons that she would like. Or, perhaps more practically, however many would fit in her car.

More accurately, perhaps, Iris thinks she had not been noticed by anyone, when she’d successfully managed to fit all three balloons in her car two nights ago. She’s standing on line at CC Jitters, the local hub for Central City citizens to get their morning coffee and pastry fix, and holding a basket, which contains baked goods, a carefully wrapped red scarf, and a small, navy blue bag. Tied onto the handle of the basket are the three balloons, still inflated.

“For the boyfriend?”

Iris turns to meet the friendly disposition of a blonde woman she’s never met before. Startled for a moment, Iris realizes, that the stranger is referring to her basket, and she smiles, shaking her head,

“No, for a friend.” Although, given her thoughts lately, friend seems far too simple a word. She feels like she’s perjuring herself by saying friend, but best friend who I’ve known since childhood and with whom I think I might have feelings for, but who is possibly in love with someone else seems far too complicated, especially when Iris is not ready to admit this to herself, let alone to a stranger whom she meets for the first time on the queue for coffee.

“Well, they’re lucky. You clearly put so much work into that. No friend has ever given me a gift like that. Actually nobody’s given me a gift that thoughtful before,” the stranger continues, before visibly cringing, “I’m sorry, I’m oversharing. I’m Patty, by the way.”

“I’m…”

“Iris!” There it is again, that feeling of home settling upon her shoulders, like a velvet cloak, shielding her, protecting her. Barry is walking towards her, holding two mugs of coffee, and when he stops before her, he presses his lips to her forehead briefly, a typical form of greeting between the both of them. But if he could hear the way her heart hammers against her chest whenever she feels the soft brush of his lips on her skin, then surely the ruse would be up. He would know how she feels, and so Iris is grateful, not for the first time, that her heartbeat is inaudible to anyone but her.

“Hey Bear, that for me?” she asks, nodding at one of the two mugs.

“Yep. One Americano with an extra shot. Got here earlier and figured we could beat the line,” Barry grins, and he’s looking at her as if she’s the sun, and it’s almost too intense, perhaps because of all of those pesky feelings that she’s been feeling lately, so Iris breaks their gaze, remembering herself as well and turning back towards Patty.

“Patty, this is my friend, Barry. Barry… Patty. We just met on the line.” Barry nods politely, as Patty says,

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Barry responds. “New around here?”

“Is it that obvious? I’m just about to start at CCU as a grad student. And so I’m trying to get used to the city. I’m originally from Midway.”

“Yeah, understandable,” Iris smiles. “Takes awhile to get used to a new place, but CC Jitters is the best, so you’ll never be wanting for good coffee, that’s for sure.” Patty laughs, then,

“Well, I’m glad for that. Anyways, I won’t keep you two. Thank you, Iris, for just chatting with me.”

“Of course.” The three exchange polite goodbyes, and Barry and Iris make a beeline for their favorite booth in the farthest corner from the entrance to the coffee shop; a rather secluded, cozy spot that Iris had first started occupying, when she was a journalism student at Central City University. Barry had been a chemistry major, and they met up every morning for breakfast and would come to study nearly every weekend, armed with cookies, coffee, and blankets. Iris remembers long afternoons spent in this booth, her feet propped up on Barry’s lap, his hands massaging her calves, as they studied in companionable silence.

It was in this booth that Iris had written article after article for The Central Brief, CCU’s university-wide newspaper, including her famed paper on the state of land rights of women, globally, that had won her the Scholastic Student of Journalism Prize and had given her the chance to speak in The Hague at an international conference on human rights. As Iris agonized over her field research, including research accumulated from summers of backpacking, Barry, while studying for his Protein Crystallography final, had been effusive in his support for her. He was constantly breaking from his studies to be her sounding board, should she need one, despite her reminding him time and again that he ought to concentrate on his own finals and not on her. He never listened, though, not that it in any way affected his marks. And so sure was he that her work would be honored that he’d planned a party, months in advance, before she had heard back from the National Committee for Excellence in Student Journalism and before she had been invited to The Hague.

Indeed, it was Barry who had remarked then that Iris ought to consider starting her own news media site after university, stating that she already had the credentials to draw in a large audience and investors.

“How are you feeling? About the exposé, I mean. Today’s the big day and all,” Barry says, as they settle into the booth, referring to what Iris considers to potentially be the most groundbreaking piece of journalism of her career thus far, namely an article exposing the rot of the biotechnology company, McCulloch Technologies. Its CEO, Joseph Carver, has been using the corporation as a front for a highly dangerous and illegal weapons trafficking scheme. The exposé, which is due to be published later today, will be a highly contentious article, no doubt, but Iris had long since decided that she will not rest until she sees justice through and the thousands of innocent people, caught in the crosshairs of Carver’s inhumane crimes, are safe.

“Okay. I’m trying not to think about it, honestly,” Iris replies, and Barry takes her hand for a moment,

“Hey, I get it. It’s hard not to be anxious, especially given the magnitude of the article and the far-reaching consequences it’s going to have. But I am so proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself as well,” he says, running his thumb over her knuckles slowly, before releasing her hand. Iris smiles softly, deeply touched by Barry’s faith in her,

“Thanks, Bear.”

“Of course,” he says, before gesturing towards the gift basket, “So, are you going to tell me who the basket is for?” Iris adopts a playful expression, then.

“Hmmm, it’s for this friend of mine who just submitted his dissertation for his DSc.”

“How did you know I submitted today? I told you my deadline was next week, which it is,” Barry states, apparently incredulous that Iris could have known that he had submitted his paper this morning.

“I have my ways. And by that I mean you drooling on my couch last week and mumbling, half-asleep, that you are definitely submitting your dissertation on Tuesday. Well, today’s Tuesday, Bear,” Iris teases, chuckling at the memory of Barry entering her apartment last week in need of caffeine, which culminated with him staying the night, when he fell asleep on her sofa.

“I really can’t keep anything from you,” Barry sighs in mock frustration. “Although I really wouldn’t want to, anyways.”

“Good. And think about it, now you have this nice surprise.” Barry takes the basket from Iris’s hands, admiring her handiwork, before giving her a sly smile,

“Well, I guess I know why you took those balloons from the reception on Saturday.”

Okay, so apparently she had not gone completely unnoticed. One guest had noticed her attempt to fit three inflated balloons into her car. Unsurprising, she now reflected, given who that guest happened to be.

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Iris. I may not be able to keep anything from you, but you definitely cannot keep anything from me either.” Are you sure about, Iris thinks momentarily, before banishing the thought immediately. For she will not dwell on those feelings again, not when she stands to lose too much if they start consuming her. When Iris looks up again, Barry is looking through the basket, marveling at the baked cake lollipops and banana bread and brownies (Iris can only bake sweets, and she would never subject Barry to her cooking, although he claims it’s not as bad as she seems to think it is), before he takes the red scarf from the basket. “Iris…” he whispers, her name like a prayer on his lips, and there goes her heartbeat again, pounding against her chest. “You knitted this.” And she knows that he already knows that she did, but it’s the way he’s looking at her now, like there are not any words currently discovered to express to her how much this means to him. She gives him a comforting smile, hoping to diffuse some of the intensity of the emotions that are radiating off of Barry.

“Open the rest,” she encourages, and he’s now holding the small, navy blue bag, and removing a velvet box from it. Encased in the box is a watch, which she’d been saving up for, because all of his watches are for some reason broken, and she can hear his gasp, nearly inaudible, and then he’s looking at her, solemnly, gravely.

“Iris… I don’t know what to say. I don’t… thank you,” he says, his tone soft and tender.

“Of course, Bear. I’m so proud of you, and I don’t think this simple gift basket really can quantify how proud I am of you.”

“It’s not… it’s amazing. You’re amazing,” he says, and there it is again. How definitive it is to him that she’s amazing. And perhaps she forgives herself a little for her feelings then, for how can she not feel as she does when he says things like this to her every single day. He’s already wrapping the scarf on his neck and remarking how comfortable and warm it is. “I couldn’t get better knitted scarves at the store. I’m pretty sure you’re a superhero. You can literally do anything.” She listens to him wax on about her many, unbelievable talents, which she’s sure only he seems to think she possesses, before shaking her head, affectionately,

“The scarf looks good on you. Red is your color.”

“Always has been,” he jokes, although the emotion is still evident in his voice. “Come here,” he says then, reaching his arm towards her. She leaves her side of the booth to come over to his, and the moment she’s at his side, he wraps his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair, breathing deeply. She has one arm around his back, the other clutching his sweater, and her head is tucked into the crook of his neck, and Iris is sure that now he must be able to feel how rapidly her heart is beating. She’s cloaked in warmth and in comfort, and all she can think of is home. And all she can feel is love. The kind of tumbling, head over heels into a field of daisies type of love that Iris’s college friend, Cynthia Reynolds (now a hotshot litigator who works in BigLaw and who also is the Citizen’s unofficial legal counsel), claims is simply mushy, fairy-tale nonsense that couldn’t possibly exist outside of movies. Iris had laughed then, telling Cynthia that maybe she shouldn’t be so cynical. Cynthia had been unmoved, steadfast instead in her sentiment that people can fall in love, but that kind of ‘I want to go gallivanting in a forest somewhere and run towards you in a field, as if this is some damn terrible romantic drama’ love does not and cannot actually exist in real life.

Well, Iris is feeling that mushy, fairy-tale type of love now (a fact which shocks her, despite the fact that she’s very aware of her growing pesky feelings), while wrapped up in Barry’s arms, so clearly, Cynthia had gotten it wrong. Oh fuck.

There are approximately fifteen different photos, capturing different angles of the McCulloch Technologies building, sitting on Iris’s desk when she walks into The Citizen that morning, after saying goodbye to Barry at Jitters, and all Iris can think about is the fact that she’s in love with her best friend. And as if her life could not be more complicated in that very moment, Barry is potentially in love with someone else.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

She cannot think about her feelings nor Barry being in love with some mystery human being right now, though, for she’s on the verge of publishing the explosive piece on Joseph Carver, who has been using his internationally successful technology company to peddle a highly intricate and complex hub-and-spoke conspiracy involving arms trafficking. He had managed to slither under the radar of inquiring agencies by acquiring different sorts of obscure technology, including ballistic software and parts that are often used to construct robots for laser guidance, under the guise of developing cutting-edge bio-technology. When Iris’s source had informed her that Carver’s labs were combining methane and ammonia, she knew that there was an underbelly of weapons-related criminality within the globally recognizable technology company, and armed with her pen, pepper spray, and sheer gumption, she and her photojournalist, Kamilla Hwang, had obtained press passes to Carver’s unveiling of robotic limbs. While there, Iris had asked janitors, low-level software engineers, and other personnel about why Carver’s labs were having methane and ammonia react with oxygen and how this in any way ameliorates existing biomedical technology. Iris and Kamilla eventually obtained access to a private press tour of Carver’s labs, where they noticed how jittery the staff had been, and after Iris had slipped her card to some of the employees, she had found herself, three days later, with nearly fifteen whistleblowers willing to come forward about nefarious activities in the labs.

As it turned out, Carver’s labs had been trying to create and had indeed succeeded in creating a gun that releases hydrocyanic acid, which they are currently selling on the black market. This is the latest of extraordinarily dangerous weapons that Carver sells both domestically and internationally. Indeed, several politicians are in cahoots with Carver; Carver having made them rich men, in exchange for avoiding Congressional inquiries into McCulloch Tech.

Now, Iris stands poised to publish the most explosive exposé of her career thus far, and the thought is both exhilarating and terrifying.

She studies Kamilla’s photos of the McCulloch Tech building, now having to decide which one would accompany the headline that is due to go up right before noon. One photo stood apart among the rest: a shot of McCulloch Tech at night, illuminated by the lights of the city, but with only one floor of the building, the top floor, indicating any activity: the lights of the top floor were on, and the rest of the building was largely camouflaged by the night sky. That top floor contained the only working laboratory at headquarters and is where hydrocyanic acid is processed. This is the photo, Iris thinks, just as she hears a commotion at the door and sees her newest hire, Allegra Garcia, forcefully wrangle open the door, rather dramatically, before slamming it shut.

“Hey, boss,” Allegra says. “We have got to get that door fixed. I’m telling you; it’s trying to kill me every time I arrive.” Iris chuckles fondly at Allegra’s dramatics,

“You’re the only one who seems to be constantly battling the door, Allegra. There are four other people who work here who seem to have no trouble getting in and out of the office.”

“Well, I don’t know, but this door has had it out for me since I began working here. And so… oh! Are those the photos? How much time have we got until noon…?” Allegra pauses momentarily, as she taps her phone, which she was holding in one hand, “Forty minutes. Fantastic.” Iris smiles, watching Allegra race up to her desk, excitedly. Two of the reasons that she had hired Allegra was for her enthusiasm about reporting and for her passion for ethical journalistic integrity, both of which she demonstrated every day on the job.

“This is the one I want to use to accompany the article,” Iris explains, while pushing the photograph towards Allegra, whose eyes widen when she sees the photo.

“Yeah, this is incredible. I know Kamilla must have camped out awhile to get this shot,” she exclaims, before looking up at Iris, “We’re really gonna do this, boss. We’re gonna expose Carver and who knows? You might win a Pulitzer from this.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have to publish the exposé first, and our legal team has been sending me messages since this morning about how she is obligated to warn us about frivolous defamation suits that Carver might file in the immediate aftermath. But the truth is more important. Let Carver sue us; if he does, he’s going to lose anyways.” Although, to be completely accurate, the Citizen’s unofficial legal team, comprising of one Cynthia Reynolds, whose texts to Iris consisted of, “Carver is definitely going to sue you for defamation, so I’ve got to warn you of that, but screw that guy. Publish and destroy him once and for all,” were certainly more emboldening than averting. Iris is also quite certain that that is technically not sound legal advice, in the least.

The door opens again, and in walks Kamilla, joined by the two other reporters at The Central City Citizen, Kara Danvers and James Olsen. They’re all chatting animatedly about the exposé and the explosive ripple effects its publication might have.

“He’s an absolute monster,” Kara tells James, no doubt referring to Carver. “I mean, hydrocyanic acid? The sheer inhumaneness of his crimes just to fill his coffers…”

“Evil folks will do absolutely anything to satisfy their greed, including murdering people,” James observes, and Iris knows this is perhaps a fundamental truth of which every investigative journalist must be aware. Kamilla walks up to Iris’s desk and grins when she sees Iris scanning the chosen photo onto her computer,

“That’s the one, isn’t it? When I captured it, I knew I had gotten it. It took me, I think, nearly five hours of camping out, and it was 2:45 AM yesterday when I finally had managed to take that photo.”

“It’s incredible, Kamilla,” Iris praises. “All your photos are great, but this one is fantastic. It captures exactly what we need to accompany the article.” When Iris had taken this on by herself, she had been wary about putting any of her reporters in danger, but Kamilla had insisted that she accompany Iris in order to take photographs. In hindsight, Iris is incredibly grateful to have had Kamilla by her side through it all, for her calm, steady demeanor was vital amidst the insanity of taking on Joseph Carver. Kara and James, who have caught up to the others, both make approving noises, congratulating Kamilla on her photography, as Iris continues to work to format the article.

When she is satisfied with the formatting, she taps her phone, seeing that there is roughly twenty minutes remaining until the deadline, and while her reporters are chattering excitedly, the door opens once more, and Iris is greeted by the sight of Wally carrying two champagne bottles in one hand and precariously balancing a few glasses in his other hand. On his heels is Barry, who is carrying a large white box with the words ‘Zulma’s Pastries’ emblazoned on the top, and Iris is flooded with that fairy-tale, gallivanting in a field of daisies feeling again, to which she now finds she is already getting accustomed, which is a somewhat terrifying thought.

While Iris has some idea as to why both of them are in her office, she is also aware that Dr. Wally West is supposed to be at work at Central City Hospital, and Barry is supposed to be meeting the Dean of Graduate Studies at CCU about a potential professorship.

“What are you two doing here?” Iris asks, smiling nonetheless, for she is touched that they likely took time out of their busy days to celebrate the publication of the exposé. She had not mentioned the details of the publication to them, in an effort to protect her sources, but Linda had let it slip to Wally that Iris is publishing the article on Tuesday at the wedding on Saturday, and Barry… well, Barry knows everything about Iris, just the way she knows everything about him, so his appearance in her office twenty minutes before she is meant to publish the most important exposé of her professional career is even less surprising than Wally’s.

“I can’t believe you thought we weren’t going to come and crash this… pathetic party, quite frankly,” Wally says, frowning as he takes in the Citizen office, which while buzzing with the excitement of determined reporters, is not exactly set up for any sort of impending celebration. “You have nothing here to celebrate, Iris. No food, no drinks, nothing.”

“We haven’t even published, and we have no idea of the repercussions of a piece like this, Wally. I think our sheer grit as reporters is celebratory enough.”

“We knew you were going to say that,” Barry chuckles, placing the box on a desk adjacent to Iris’s, and then helping Wally with the champagne glasses. “But Linda and I wanted this to be a surprise. We managed to get Wally to help, which is good…”

“Linda’s not feeling well,” Wally cuts in. “She was having awful morning sickness, and I told her I didn’t want to go and that Barry could do the heavy-lifting, but she threatened me and sent me away with two of our best champagne bottles.” Iris begins to protest, but Wally continues on, “And honestly, Iris, before you say anything, I’d rather get an earful from you about leaving Linda at home for this— and by the way, she’s feeling much better, thanks to the fact that I’ve finally perfected the art of making a ginger and mint smoothie— than defy her orders.”

“Glad to see your theatrics are still in top form,” Iris deadpans, before turning to Barry, pointedly, “Thank you, Barry. You and Linda really didn’t have to do all of this. I haven’t even published it yet.”

“Excuse me, I helped!” Wally interjects, and Barry is laughing now as Iris reaches up to give him a quick hug, which he returns immediately. As they break apart, Barry’s hand lingers on her arm.

“You’re welcome,” he says. “I wanted this to be a surprise and that’s why I didn’t mention earlier coming by later on. And I knew you could have used a distraction this morning from thinking about the exposé.”

“I did need a distraction,” Iris smiles, still keenly aware of his fingers slowly brushing against her arm, gently, tenderly.

“I imagine you did. But to reiterate what I said earlier this morning, I’m so proud of you. So, so proud of you.” He cups her face with one hand, gently caressing his thumb against her cheek, and he’s gazing at her with so much emotion in his eyes, and she knows that the same intensity that had radiated off of him when she’d gifted him the basket earlier this day is emanating from him now, and she cannot help but wonder if he feels what she feels, because in these moments, she’s sure he must be.

Wally clears his throat loudly, while pouring out the champagne, and both Barry and Iris break away from each other quickly. When Iris looks up at Wally, he’s giving her that same look Linda had given her at the wedding reception on Saturday, when she had clarified that her friendship with Barry was different. Unwilling to entertain the idea that Wally and Linda have discussed her feelings for Barry, she turns to her reporters, who were already opening Barry’s box of sweets.

“Brownies!” Kara yelps, eyeing the chocolate chip, fudge brownies and quickly grabbing paper plates from the Citizen’s supply cupboard.

“Thank you, Barry! We really needed this,” James agrees, while Kamilla and Allegra join their colleagues in helping themselves to the scrumptious sweets and expressing their gratitude.

“We’re not going to get any work done today, but it’s fine. Thanks, Bear,” Iris laughs, as Barry hands her a glass of champagne. They clink their glasses together, before sipping their respective drinks.

“The Citizen can use a break. Especially you,” Barry says after a few moments, giving Iris a pointed look. “You’ve had countless sleepless nights over the research for this, and now it’s ready for the public to read. You deserve a whole week long break, at least.”

“The news doesn’t stop for me to catch up on sleep, unfortunately. I have three upcoming potential stories, including the ways in which exam software companies have violated the privacy of examinees.”

“Sounds like you’re about to become the hero of every university student everywhere. I can’t believe the vagueness of some of those disclaimers that exam software companies put out, as if students have any choice but to use them, when they have examinations online.”

“Yeah, exactly. And if nobody holds their feet to the fire, they think that they can get away with anything. That’s why I’ve got to do it.”

“Iris West saves the world yet again. That should be a headline. Maybe I should pitch it to Central City Picture News. Think Scott Evans would run a headline on his biggest rival?”

“Scott would definitely do it, if it brings CCPN good business. Besides, our rivalry is more friendly than anything else. That said, ‘Iris West Saves the World Yet Again’ sounds more like I’m saving the world with superpowers, not the power of a pen and a public audience. I think you might be overselling me just a little bit.”

“Absolutely not,” Barry says, affronted. “Iris West is my hero, and she always has been, so I think you’re underestimating her. She’s a total superhero.”

“Doubtful.”

“Don’t try to tell me that you’re not a superhero, Iris. You’re definitely not going to win this argument.”

“Fine, I’ll level with you. Because you know what they say, right? Every superhero has her own hero? Well, if I am a superhero, then I have a confession to make: my hero happens to be this guy I know… superheroes need strength to be invincible, right? So yeah, this guy is my constant strength. Maybe you know him? Name’s Barry Allen?” Barry blushes furiously at that, ducking his head bashfully, and Iris thinks, Success! She knows she’s rendered him flustered, and he’s so adorably handsome, as he fidgets with his hands, as if searching for something to hold. But even despite his flustered state, he remembers the ongoing debate, and he manages a,

“Alright, alright. You win, Iris.” Iris smiles at him, radiantly and triumphantly, just as Wally makes his way over to them, holding a champagne glass of his own, and he’s got a rather sheepish look on his face, which immediately makes Iris suspicious.

“I know that face, Wall. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Not every expression of mine means something,” Wally says, immediately defensive. “Although, I do have to ask you a small favor. But really, it’s not a favor, because it’s actually going to be great for you. So it’s technically a favor, but a favor that you’ll enjoy.”

“Of course you think so. What is it?” Iris asks, tiredly, knowing immediately that she probably was not going to enjoy this favor as much as Wally seems to think.

“Okay, so you know Cecile’s godson, Eddie Thawne? He couldn’t come to the wedding, because he was away on an emergency business trip?”

“Yeah, I know Eddie,” Iris responds, confused as to what he had to do with whatever Wally was asking of her. Eddie Thawne was the son of Cecile’s best friend, a wealthy hotelier, and he’d been friendly enough in the few interactions that Iris had had with him, but she could not claim to know him all that well.

“Right, so he’s hosting this gala in Metropolis for dad and Cecile this Saturday. It’s very last minute, found out last night, actually… and well, I’d told dad I was going to go, because you know, one of us should go, right? Technically, both of us should, but dad didn’t want to trouble you, because you’ve been so busy with work, and it’s not a big deal. In fact, I think dad didn’t want you to know, because he thought you might get the wrong idea and think that this gala was going to upstage all the work you put in for the actual wedding and reception, which I kept insisting to him you wouldn’t think at all. And I don’t want to leave Linda, even for the weekend. She keeps telling me she’ll be fine, and I know she’s not due for another two months, but I’m not comfortable going.”

“So, you want me to go,” Iris says, knowing exactly what her brother was asking of her. On the one hand, traveling to Metropolis for the weekend for a gala made Iris nervous, because she did not want to leave Central City for at least a week after the McCulloch Tech article was published, but on the other hand, Wally could not be expected to attend, and it would be wrong if both of them missed a gala that was being held for their dad and Cecile.

Wally is apparently under the impression that Iris might need some more coaxing, so he puts his champagne glass down and reaches into his coat pocket, brandishing four plane tickets.

“Here, the flight tickets are on me. Eddie is putting people up in rooms at his family’s hotel, and he apparently booked four rooms between the two of us, so we could each bring some guests. With Linda and I not going, you’ll have at least three rooms to fill.”

“It’s fine, Wally. I’ll go. You’re right; we should go for dad and Cecile, and you honestly cannot and should not go. I just have to find people who can take a trip with me, last minute…” Iris knows whom she would want to invite, and so she turns to Barry, immediately. “Look, Bear, I know it’s short notice, but…”

“Yeah, I’ll come,” Barry agrees quickly, before she can even finish posing the question, and Iris notices that he has a slightly agitated expression, which worries her. His hand clenches the edge of her desk, rather forcefully, and so she places her own hand over his, reassuringly, and this seems to relax him, at least momentarily, as she can feel some of the tension in his muscles evaporate slowly. He smiles, then, perhaps trying to mask his sudden agitation, “My weekend’s free, and we were just talking about how you could use a break, Iris. This’ll be good, as it’s a vacation of sorts.”

“Thanks, Barry. I’ll also ask Cynthia; she could always use a break, and Bear, why don’t you invite someone?”

“I’ll ask Cisco.” Iris glances up at Barry, and they both share a knowing look: they had been trying to get Cynthia and Barry’s old college roommate and engineering genius extraordinaire, Cisco Ramon, to meet for ages (So much for swearing off match-making, Iris thinks then), but they had not had the chance to introduce the two of them yet. This trip might just provide the long-awaited golden opportunity.

“Perfect,” Wally says, considerably relieved, but before Iris can respond, she finds herself surrounded by her fellow reporters who are telling her that it’s just before noon. She nods, waiting until everyone is gathered around her, and Barry’s arm comes around her shoulders, providing her with both comfort and strength. And while a sudden, rather dignified silence, perhaps to mark the solemnity of this publication, descends upon the Citizen, Iris can feel the soundless excitement of Kamilla and of Allegra and of Kara and of James, as she publishes the exposé on the Citizen’s website.

Thus, late that Friday afternoon, Iris finds herself boarding a plane with Barry, Cynthia, and Cisco, in tow, and she’s only half paying attention to Cisco’s exuberance in describing his latest inventive feat at S.T.A.R. Labs, the product technology company he works for, because Barry is acting… odd. He has been acting odd since he had accepted her invitation to come along to Metropolis, and she cannot fathom what it is about this trip that has him so on edge. He is fidgeting so much, and every time he notices that she notices, he gives her a forced smile, as if to divert her suspicions away from his agitation, but that only serves to increase her worries. Whatever is bothering him so much is something that he apparently is unwilling to share with her.

“…It’s insane. I mean, if we get this right, we will be revolutionizing tablet computers and robotic interpreters,” Cisco is saying, and Iris is sure that if Cisco is put to the task, he and his team certainly would get it done, for she had witnessed his genius first hand before, when, during a birthday party for his best friend, Caitlin Snow, a few years back, the power had blown and there had been no backup generator, and Cisco had managed to create a temporary power source seemingly out of thin air. Iris is sure that there were numerous devices at Cisco’s disposal, and he’d had the aid of Caitlin’s then boyfriend now husband, Ronnie, also an engineer, but it was the sheer ingenuity of Cisco’s engineering ability and the sheer determination to get this done and to ensure Caitlin had the party that she deserved that was so impressive.

“If anyone can get it done, though, it’s Cisco Ramon,” Iris voices her thoughts, and Cisco smiles proudly,

“Thanks, Iris. It’s definitely going to be a lot of work, but I definitely think we’re headed in the right direction. Hopefully.”

“Hmmm, it all sounds impressive, but what are the patenting ramifications that come with such a unique project. Surely, you’re worried about somebody trying to build upon your product once it’s out in the market. How stringent is your patent going to be?” Cynthia, ever the cynic, adds, eyeing Cisco.

“I don’t want to hog all the spotlight, honestly. We want other people and companies to be able to build on our findings and develop even better tech. There’ll be a patent, but it’s not going to be exclusive.”

“You’re way too nice.”

“I’m just here to improve tech. Being nice isn’t a crime, I hope,” Cisco laughs, and Cynthia shakes her head fondly, clearly believing Cisco to be naive, but apparently endeared to his naiveté nonetheless. Cisco and Cynthia, still playfully arguing about the stringency of a future patent, take their seats in the middle row, and Iris and Barry, the latter who is still distracted, sit by the window across the aisle.

“Bear, what’s going on?” Iris sighs, finally, turning to him, once they’ve taken their seats. Barry looks up at her, startled and guilty, and immediately starts deflecting,

“Nothing. I’m fine, Iris, really. I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit out of it. Just… I don’t know, I’m fine.” Iris can tell that he’s not going to be forthcoming with her, no matter how persistent she is, but she is not ready to drop the issue entirely.

“I’m not going to press you, but you know that if something is bothering you, I’m always here, if you want to talk. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know that. Of course I do,” Barry says, his voice tender. “And I’m the luckiest guy in the world for it. I’m sorry that I’ve been out of it the last couple of days, I just… I don’t want you to worry about me. That’s the last thing I want.” Iris can tell he’s struggling between telling her and being evasive, so she takes his hand in her own, their fingers interlocking almost instinctively. She squeezes his hand, as his thumb brushes against her knuckles.

“I’m going to worry, because it’s you, and so I can’t not worry, but I don’t want you to tell me anything when you’re not ready to.” Barry’s free hand comes to cup her chin, as he brings her closer to him, and she basks in the warmth of his hand against her skin. When his lips meet her forehead, she closes her eyes and relishes in his lingering kiss, and she knows… she knows that she’s unequivocally in love with him, and she’s sure that she has been for quite some time, and all she wants to do is lift her face and coax his lips to hers, but she can’t. She knows that she can’t. She can’t ruin their equilibrium, because if she were to admit her feelings and lose Barry’s friendship completely… that is a possibility that she cannot risk.

“I know how deeply you care. And I love you for it,” he whispers against her forehead. And I love you for it.

He’s told her he loves her so many times over the two decades that they’ve known one another, and she knows that he means it platonically, as he always has, but that doesn’t stop her from imagining that he loves her in the same way that she loves him.

And when Barry falls asleep, after the plane takes off, and drops his head, so it rests comfortably on her shoulder, his face turned into the crook of her neck, so that she can feel his steady breaths fanning against her skin, Iris leans her head against his, and she thinks that this is what true tranquility feels like.

And I love you for it.

#westallen #westallen secret santa #submission

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justanothercookery · 3 years ago

Text

Birthday lunch

A Mexican-themed lunch for 35 on Saturday 21 August 2021

For my uncle’s 70th birthday party, my cousins and I laid on a Mexican-themed birthday lunch. Everyone enjoyed themselves enormously and in terms of catering for a crowd, this was very straightforward. (Yes, I find army-style cooking relatively easy, but this really was simple.)

We had tortilla chips set out on tables with pico de gallo, soured cream, and some shop-bought guacamole while people were arriving, saying hello, and getting drinks. For the buffet lunch, there were three burrito mixes: one vegetarian, one milder meat, and another spicier meat. There was a spicier red rice, a plain red rice, and a boiled rice. We had pico de gallo hot or mild, and with or without coriander. There were hot and mild smashed avocados. Oodles of sour cream and grated cheese, and corns on the cob.

For dessert, there was a choice of strawberry, chocolate, or vanilla ice cream with sauces, sprinkles, sweeties, and chocolate brownie. Okay, so maybe that isn’t very Mexican, but how can you argue with constructing your own sundaes? My cousin made the most beautiful strawberry and vanilla cake, and everyone was happy.

This, therefore, is how you cook for a crowd. My top tips: use the food processor to do as much heavy lifting as you can, and opt for pastes and purées where possible. Using a garlic purée will not compromise on flavour, but it will save your sanity when you have to peel and mince multiple bulbs, let alone cloves, of garlic.

Do all of the onion in one go in the food processor. Weigh a peeled, trimmed onion for a rough weight, then weigh out the chopped onion according to each part of the recipe. Store each portion in airtight containers or labelled ziplock bags.

Do not baulk at the washing-up generated by mise-en-place. Measuring out three ramekins of the spice mix for each version of the burrito stuffing in one go is much easier than measuring out tablespoonfuls of spices each time you need to add them.

Very importantly, if you are using an ‘ordinary’ family recipe and scaling it up for the masses, always write out the multiplied version and work from that. Do not try to do the maths in your head as you go along. You will either forget or make an error.

Finally: stay calm and manage your kitchen. Ask for help when you need it and send people out of the kitchen if they are in your way or making you stressed. Remember to eat and drink, too.

Vegetarian burrito mix for 10 to 12 people

240g green lentils, washed and soaked in boiling water for 30 minutes

240g red lentils, washed

3 small-ish onions - chopped in the food processor

6 teaspoons garlic purée

1 1/2 tablespoons ground coriander

1 1/2 tablespoons ground cumin

1 teaspoon red chilli powder

1 1/4 teaspoons dried oregano

3 cans chopped tomatoes (about 1200g)

3 cans black beans in water (about 1200g)

1/2 - 1 teaspoon sugar

1 tablespoon white wine vinegar

Salt and pepper

Oil for frying

Cover the base of a very large casserole dish with oil. Fry the onion until it is soft, adding a sprinkling of salt to stop it from burning. This will take about 10 minutes.

Squeeze in the garlic purée and stir it through for 30 seconds.

Tip in the coriander, cumin, chilli, and oregano. Stir thoroughly and fry for a minutes.

Add the lentils (drain the green ones) and mix them through the spices before pouring over the tomatoes and combining. Season with salt and pepper, the sugar and the vinegar. Bring to the boil and cook for five minutes.

Pour in the black beans with their liquid and stir very carefully but thoroughly. Bring back to the boil and then reduce to a simmer. Cook covered for about 45 minutes, until the lentils are tender. Given the quantities, it might take closer to 55 minutes. Do not be alarmed. If you are worried it will dry out, add some vegetable stock.

Stir periodically to prevent sticking.

After 45 minutes, remove the lid and test and adjust for seasoning. Cook the mix for approximately another 10 minutes, but possibly longer, to reduce to a thick, rich burrito stuffing.

Then either cool and refrigerate, reheating it in a hot oven for about 45 minutes when ready to serve. Or serve immediately.

Milder meat mix for 10 to 12 people

1.2kg best minced steak

3 small-ish onions - chopped in the food processor

6 teaspoons garlic purée

1 1/2 tablespoons ground coriander

1 1/2 tablespoons ground cumin

1 teaspoons red chilli powder

1 1/4 teaspoons dried oregano

3 cans chopped tomatoes (1200g)

3 cans black beans in water (1200g)

1/2 - 1 teaspoon sugar

1 tablespoon white wine vinegar

Salt and pepper

Season the meat with salt and fry it over a high heat in a large frying pan until it is browned all over.

Remove it to the bowl of a large slow cooker, leaving the fat in the frying pan.

Cook the onion in the beef fat with a touch of salt until it is golden. Then add the garlic purée and cook it for 30 seconds more. Stir in the spices and oregano and cook for a minute before adding the vinegar and sugar. Mix well and then pour over the meat in the slow cooker. Mix again.

Add the tomatoes and black beans to the slow cooker bowl and season with salt and pepper. Mix everything very well and then cook it on high for four hours or low for six to eight hours. Check for seasoning and if you need to cook it for a while with the lid off to reduce it, so be it!

Spicier meat mix for 10 to 12 people

It’s the same ingredients and method as the milder mix, but triple the spices. So that’s 4 1/2 tablespoons each of cumin and coriander and three teaspoons of chilli powder. You can always put Tabasco or Mexican hot sauce on the table, too.

Spicy red rice for 10 to 12 people (this is sufficient for inside burritos, you’ll need more if serving as a chilli)

300g long grain white rice, soaked in cold water for 30 minutes

3 red onions, finely chopped in a food processor

3-4 teaspoons garlic purée

3-4 tablespoons tomato purée

1 tablespoon chilli paste

1 litre very weak vegetable stock

1/2 tablespoon salt

Neutral oil

Cover the base of a very large saucepan with oil. Fry the onion for 10 minutes until it is a soft mush.

Squeeze in the garlic and tomato purées and chilli paste and stir through the onion for a minute before tipping in the drained rice and coating it in the red mix. Salt it.

Pour over the stock and bring it to the boil. Stir well. Cover the pan with a lid and reduce to a simmer on the lowest flame. Cook for 15 to 20 minutes, or until all the liquid is absorbed and the rice is tender.

For the red rice, just omit the chilli paste.

Plain rice for 10 to 12 people

For the plain rice, bring a large pan of water the the boil. Salt it. Tip in 300g of long grain rice that you have soaked for 30 minutes and then drained. Cover the pan. When it returns to the boil, set a timer for four minutes. When the timer beeps, test the rice. If it’s ready, drain it very well and transfer it to a greased serving dish and cover it with foil if it has to wait for a few minutes. If it isn’t quite done, cook for another minute and test again. It shouldn’t take much longer. Do not let it overcook.

Pico de gallo for 30 to 35 people for burritos (you’ll need more for tortilla chip-dipping)

Some people like it spicy. Some do not like coriander. This caters for all of them.

16-20 large tomatoes

4 red onions, finely chopped

8 tablespoons lime juice

Bunch of fresh coriander, chopped

4 (or thereabouts, depending on strength) red chillis, minced

Salt

Mark each tomato with a cross on the base and place in a large bowl. Cover with boiling water and leave for a minute. Drain.

Slip the skins off of each tomato and then quarter them, core and de-seed them, chop finely and place in a sieve.

When the tomatoes have drained, transfer them to a large bowl. Add the onion and lime juice and sprinkle with salt. Mix well and taste it. You may need more lime or salt. This is Bowl 1.

Remove half of the mixture to a clean bowl. This is Bowl 2. Into this second bowl, mix the finely chopped chilli. Halve this chillied mixture again, with half going into a fresh bowl, Bowl 3. To Bowl 3, add two tablespoons (or more, depending on your preferences) of chopped fresh coriander.

Back at Bowl 1, with the original tomato-onion-lime mix, halve it. You now have Bowl 1 and Bowl 4. Add two tablespoons or more of chopped coriander to one half, which will be Bowl 4.

You should have four bowls of pico de gallo:

Tomato-onion-lime

Tomato-onion-lime-chilli

Tomato-onion-lime-chilli-coriander

Tomato-onion-lime-coriander

Done!

And the rest

You will need at least two tortillas a person as well as soured cream, grated cheese, and avocado. We bought ready-smashed avocado, some with lime and some with chilli and lime. It meant we didn’t have to worry about ripe-or-overripe avocados. We also put out a bowl of salad as well as Tabasco and a Mexican hot sauce. There were mini corns-on-the-cob for those who wanted them, too. All they required was dunking in a pasta pan of boiling water for a few minutes. Sure, grilling them and smothering in soured cream, chilli, and cheese would have been delicious, but completely impractical. Know your limitations.

One of my cousins mixed margaritas, and we had wine, fizz, fizzy water, cordial, and juice. If we missed anything, and I really don’t think that we did, it wasn’t for a want of trying.

Now go forth and rock and roll.

#burrito #party #party food #lunch #dinner #cooking for a crowd #catering #burritos for a party #burritos for a crowd

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hobeymakar · 4 years ago

Text

Touch | C. Makar

Words: 2,218

A/N: Title for this one is from the song Touch by Little Mix. This one takes place during the current COVID-19 crisis and the current uncertainty of next season.

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual content, mentions of alcohol use

You're in the living room of the Denver apartment, trying to remain as quiet as possible as Cale is setting up his video for the NHL Awards. Being a finalist for the Calder is huge and you're beyond proud of him. Whether he wins or loses, you know this won't define his career and he's gonna achieve bigger and better things in his career.

He's set up right in front of the balcony door and sitting down and waiting to be invited to the video call by the league.

"Good luck baby and no matter what you're always a winner in my book," you inform him, blowing him a kiss.

"Thanks baby," he smiles, blowing a kiss back.

You turn your attention back to your phone and try to calm down your own nerves. It's possible you might be more nervous than he is about this award presentation.

The time eventually comes for the award presentation and Cale's name gets called and he gets brought into the video call. You internally scream in excitement and can't help but message your friends and family that your boyfriend is a Calder Trophy winner.

He gives his acceptance speech, managing to be cuter and more humble than he's ever been. He answers the questions Gretzky has for him and then gets off the video call as they have to move on to the next award.

As soon as he ends the call and moves the stuff out of the way, you jump on him.

"I'm so proud of you baby! You worked so hard for this and you deserve it!" you cry out, kissing his cheeks to watch them become even more red.

"Thank you, baby. I couldn't do it without you supporting me every step of the way," he smiles, kissing your forehead.

"Alright, go call your family while I make dinner," you say, letting him go.

You walk to the kitchen and start working on something special for him. It's the offseason so he's allowed a little more leeway on what he can eat, as long as he doesn't go overboard and eat too much food that interferes with his nutrition plan. You hear him on facetime with his family and you honestly couldn't be prouder of your fiance.

You start playing your music softly on your phone as you prepare the meal for the two of you. After a while, he comes out of the room and smells the food being made.

"Smells great in here babe," he smiles, sneaking up from behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. "What are you making?"

"It's a surprise. So why don't you go play some warzone or something and I'll call you out when the food is ready," you suggest, wanting him to be surprised.

"But I wanna stay out here with you," he protests with a pouty face.

"Alright you big baby, you can stay here," you giggle.

He sits down on the stool on the kitchen island and decides to recount his entire conversation with his parents and his brother.

"Is Taylor back on the ice yet?" you ask, referring to his little brother who's entering his final year of junior with the Brooks Bandits.

"I mean he's been skating but they still haven't announced when the season is gonna start and you know that he won't be playing at UMass until next year," he explains.

"Tell him I said to keep his chin up and that he's gonna have his season eventually," you reply.

The conversation switches to your family and how they're doing. The song Best Part by H.E.R. & Daniel Caesar comes on.

"That's our song," he smiles, recognizing the intro.

"You remember that?" you ask, cringing internally.

"As if I could ever forget you drunkenly telling me this is gonna be our wedding song and how I'm gonna need to know all the words," he teases, getting up from the seat.

"Oh my god, I thought you forgot about that! I didn't actually mean that!" you groan in embarrassment, as he takes your hand in his.

"Drunken words are sober thoughts, baby," he teases, swaying you to the beat of the song.

He starts singing along to the song, shocking you.

"You actually learned the song?" you ask in shock.

"You told me I had to and it's an easy song to learn anyway," he adds sheepishly.

There's no way you can love him more than you do, and yet he finds ways to make you love him more every day. Honestly, how the hell did you end up so lucky to have him in your life?

The song eventually ends and he walks back to the stool while you turn your attention back to the food.

The song Touch by Little Mix comes on and you dance along to the song, while he laughs at your moves.

"Hey, why are you laughing?!? I'm a phenomenal dancer!" you defend yourself.

"Babe, it's just funny to see you dancing while cooking," he replies, letting out a couple chuckles.

"Like your moves are better!" you scoff, shooting him a look.

"I never said mine were better," he argues back, a small smirk on his lips.

"You're lucky I love you," you reply, shaking your head.

He can be a little shit sometimes, but he's your little shit and you wouldn't change it for the world.

After 20 minutes, dinner is ready and you set up the dining table nicely.

"Thanks babe for all of this," he smiles, taking in the dinner setup.

"You're welcome. It's the least I could do for you. I know we normally would've been in Vegas with your family celebrating, but I figured this is the least I could do. 2020 is all about rolling with the punches," you explain.

"I don't know how I would've made it through everything this year without you," he confesses.

"I know. I'm pretty amazing," you tease, a lil smirk on your face.

You settle into small talk as you eat and after a while, you both finish eating. You both clean up the table and put away the leftovers. You load the dishwasher as Cale sets up to play warzone with Taylor in the living room.

"Babe, I'm gonna take a shower," you inform him.

You go to the room and grab your things to shower. You get into the bathroom and put your music on shuffle. You get undressed and into the shower, washing your body and hair thoroughly. You dry yourself off thoroughly and go through your self-care routine. You then go into the room and change into a new set of underwear, an Avs Cale jersey, and UMass Minutemen sweatpants. You go to the bathroom and blowdry your hair. You then come out to see Cale still playing warzone with a headset on.

You walk over to the couch and sit beside him and he barely even notices, hyper focused on the game. You take out your phone and take a video of the game and caption it with "ready to be ignored all night" and send it to your friends, who laugh at you and tell you to just leave him alone.

You try to entertain yourself by scrolling through your social media feeds, but even that gets boring after 20 minutes. You snuggle into his side and see he doesn't even move, still focused on playing.

You decide to just let him have his fun, since it's his night anyway and go to the kitchen to bake, since it always manages to put a smile on your face. You decide making a cake will be the best thing for you and it'll kill a couple hours. So you get all the ingredients out and get to work. You put your music back on and get focused on the baking. You put the cake in the oven and start working on putting the frosting in the pipers to be able to write on the cake. Once the cake comes out of the oven, Cale comes out to the kitchen.

"You finished playing?" you ask him, as he walks up to you.

"You're wearing my jersey," he points out, kissing you.

"Yeah you would've noticed it earlier if you weren't so busy playing with Taylor," you tease, getting the pipers ready.

"Well I already finished playing for the night," he assures you.

"Good. I like Taylor, but not when he's stealing my boyfriend away from me," you tease.

"Are you seriously making a cake for me?" he asks.

"Yes! Like I said, I feel bad that this wasn't the celebration we would've normally had. So I wanna make it up to you as much as possible," you inform him.

"I know but you don't have to do all this," he assures you.

"I know, but I want to," you smile back. "Now if you excuse me, I have a cake to decorate and I can't have any distractions."

You carefully frost the cake in Avs colors. You also carefully write "Congrats on the Calder Trophy Cale" on the cake, as well as "#8" and "Let's go Avs!" You draw little hockey sticks on the sides. All your frosting decorations are also in Avs colors, continuing the theme. You also get ice cream out and scoop them into bowls. You then set the dining table up and take pictures of Cale with the cake in front of it. You post it on your social media with the caption "Congrats on your Calder Trophy baby! Wish we could've been in Vegas to celebrate it with loved ones, but celebrating at home alone is pretty special too!" You also send it to his family with the caption "tried to make his night as special as possible for him, but we both wish you guys were here!"

You cut the cake and you two start eating it with the ice cream, trying to make the most out of the situation.

"Thank you baby for all of this! I'm so glad I get to have you by my side every step of the way. I love you," he smiles, kissing the ice cream off your lips.

"I love you more baby and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than by your side," you smile back.

You clean up the table and put the leftover cake away before adding the baking stuff to the dishwasher. Once the dishwasher is filled, you turn it on and let it wash everything. You head to the room and hear the shower running, letting you know that he's in the shower. You turn the TV on for background noise and change into one of Cale's old UMass Minutemen shirts with nothing but your underwear underneath. You get back into bed and go on your phone, checking your social media and responding to texts from your friends and family. You get comfortable as you get sucked into watching some trashy reality TV show that you've never seen or heard of before.

Before you know it, Cale walks back to the room still a little wet from the shower and with his towel hanging loosely off his hips. He quickly finishes drying himself off and changes into nothing but boxers. He turns off the ceiling light and turns on the lamp instead.

"What are you watching?" he asks, not recognizing the show.

"I don't know, some trashy ass reality tv show. I just turned on the TV and this was on," you explain.

"Wanna watch a movie?" he asks.

"Sure as long as it isn't something boring or terrible," you reply.

You switch over to Netflix and you let him choose the movie. He makes his selection and you're pleased to see it's not something you would hate. The two of you watch the movie until you fall asleep.

The next morning, you wake up to Cale's morning wood poking your butt, which isn't necessarily unwelcomed. You turn over and wake him up by pinching his nipple.

"Ow what the fuck?" he groans, opening his eyes.

"Good morning," you kiss him sweetly, like you didn't just pinch his nipple super hard.

"You're a menace," he groans, as you straddle his waist.

"Yeah yeah yeah, you still love me though," you tease.

He kisses you to shut you up and you definitely do shut up. The kisses become more intense and desperate and he starts lifting up your shirt, noticing the Avs colored underwear you have on.

He groans like he just blocked a shot on the PK and he doesn't know if he wants to keep the shirt on or off of you.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he groans.

"Maybe," you giggle, loving the reaction you've gotten out of him.

He eventually makes up his mind and fucks you with the UMass shirt on because he's secretly into seeing his name on you. Afterwards, you two lay in bed and bask in the afterglow. You then get up and put on the UMass shirt again and head off to make him breakfast, as he quickly follows behind you.

Yeah, it wasn't the celebration you planned on having, but you managed to make the most of it, just you two in your own little world, in your Denver apartment.

#nhl writing #hockey imagine #nhl imagines #nhl players #colorado avalanche #hockey #cale makar #cale makar imagine

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tarredion · 4 years ago

Text

2020 fic roundup

hiii! i was going to do this earlier but,, um,, i posted three fics in the final two hours of 2020 year (for me) so :D here is finally my fic roundup - in order from newest to oldest

i’ll be using the original summaries, wordcounts n ratings etc, some of the tags, link to the tumblr post and the ao3 link, and maybe add a note or two if i feel that’s not enough

this’ll be a long post so read below the cut

(or go directly to my ao3 here especially in case you don’t want spoilers)

Fireworks up above

g, 341

NYE, established relationship, husbands, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing

Husbands Dan and Phil and their placeholder-apartment share a final NYE moment (aka 2020 NYE)

ao3 // tumblr

Quiet morning

g, 304

tooth-rotting fluff, lazy mornings, sleepy cuddles, established relationship, husbands, forever home

Dan wakes up in the forever home, Phil breathing softly next to him…

ao3 // tumblr

Shadows / nocturne / parting clouds

g, 2.7k

hurt/comfort, migraine, arguing, angst with a fluffy ending, established relationship, ii tour fic, alternating and outsider pov

Phil wakes up with a migraine, causing him to snap at Dan. Throughout the day, while visiting a city for the ii tour, Cornelia observes the tension, and eventually, the two of them console

ao3 // tumblr

A tub fit for two

t, 853

dnp, forever home, established relationship, husbands, fluff, bathing/washing, and more

there are certain perks that come with building your own (forever) house

ao3 // tumblr

Signals

m, 1.6k

texting, established relationship, food, domestic fluff, very light angst, sexual content

excerpts of dan and phil’s texts throughout the years

ao3 // tumblr

At the turn of a page

g, 1.2k

liveshow, 2020-ish, fluff, established relationship, forever home

Phil’s had his reasons for not continuing liveshows during lockdown, but they’re ready for a comeback—a domestic one, at that

ao3 // tumblr

Prickle on the skin, ache in the heart

t, 1.4k

2014, closeted relationship, bbc party, alcohol, vomiting, self confidence issues, jealousy, angst then fluff, happy ending

phil smiles wider, brighter. every day. every day, dan falls in love again. he can’t help but be a little jealous, not being able to say

ao3 // tumblr

It’s home

t, 2.2k

au ice-cream parlor, established relationship, pure fluff, slice of life

A day in the life of Dan and his smitten ice-cream vendor boyfriend Phil, living on the coast of Connemara, Ireland

ao3 // tumblr

Whisper of the heart

g, 976

established relationship, headaches & migraines, hurt/comfort, fluff, piano

Phil has a headache. Dan plays the piano and comforts him.

ao3 // tumblr

Slice of cake

e, 2.7k

established relationship, bday sex, 2016, face-sitting, rimming

Dan’s promised to celebrate Phil with nothing but the best this year.

Naturally, he buys himself a new skirt - but it’s not just to wear.

ao3 // tumblr

Supple thirty-two

this is a chaptered wip !! it’ll continue in 2021 (the update note is currently inaccurate)

3/32

t, 4k so far

slow burn, friends to lovers, love letters, secret admirer, fluff and angst, internalized homophobia, outing, coming out, queer themes, happy ending

A secret admirer sends flowers and letters to Dan over the years

ao3 // tumblr

Tenderhearted

g, 1k

2009, comfort/angst, sad but sweet, sleepy cuddles, separation anxiety

Phil doesn’t want Dan to go home. Dan agrees. Quite strongly, actually.

Feeling properly loved for the first time causes serious separation anxiety.

ao3 // tumblr

I’d marry you (with paper rings)

m, 4k

established relationship, fluff, domestic, proposal, sexual content

Maybe learning calligraphy was of greater importance to Phil, and them, than Dan first thought

ao3 // tumblr

Blue can be kind, too

this is my favourite fic of the ones i’ve written !! so far. it’s from the pov of kid dan so very tender and mostly very childish / undeveloped in the language, as if actually told from his brain (even though it’s third person)

g, 4k

kid!fic, dan and phil are kids, kindergarten, developing friendship, past violence and bullying, referenced homophobia, fluff and angst, sad and happy, happy ending

A tale of being scared, starting fresh, and making your first ever friends after experiencing violent bullying.

Or rather, four-year-old Dan’s first day at his new kindergarten.

ao3 // tumblr

Ablaze

e, 4k

established relationship, spanking, daddy kink, oral, aftercare

Phil’s trying to work; Dan’s being a brat. Things get heated, but not in a bad way.

ao3 // tumblr

The brightest shade of sun (I had ever seen)

g, 3.9k

friends to lovers, getting together, only one bed

one dawn on the isle of man can be enough to unite two craving hearts, even if a lot of heartbreaking thoughts are revealed along the way

ao3 // tumblr

Tracing constellations

t, 1.3k

established relationship, sleepy cuddles, fluff, banter, kissing

Two 6-foot men cuddling in a single armchair doesn’t sound like a good idea.

It isn’t, but dan and phil do almost anything for intimacy…

ao3 // tumblr

Between the seams

g, 999

established relationship, cuddling, fluff, fear, hurt/comfort

Bone-tired lovers meet thundering downpour, rediscovering the best way to confront fear in the meantime

ao3 // tumblr

Fjäll med stjärnor

this one is also a chaptered wip !! it’ll also be continuing in 2021, and probably beyond bcs it might be even longer than that

2/?

g, 9k so far

fantasy, magic, kinda historical fantasy, dan’s a dragon, and Phil’s human (at first), strangers to friends to lovers (eventually), fluff and angst, lots of descriptions

a human’s and a dragon’s paths crossing is unusual, but in this case it was in alignment with the stars and a decision as old as time itself

ao3 // tumblr

It’s not a date?

chaptered wip to continue into 2021 too

2/4

t, 4.6k so far

there’s only one bed, bodyswap, didn’t know they were dating, friends to lovers, getting together, idiots in love, tatinof

On one hand, it should all go flawlessly. When Phil goes on tour with his boyfriend of six years, Dan, he books them rooms with only one bed. He’s not deterred by their quiet and nonsexual (monogamous) lovelife. They do things ‘normal’ couples do, just maybe not as often or intimately. He supposes Dan’s just taking it slow, trying to come to terms with his sexuality and so on. It’s okay.

On the other… Dan doesn’t know they are dating. He has a longtime crush on Phil that he thinks is unrequited, despite their mutual rather romantic and domestic behavior.

ao3 // tumblr

Fur-ever

g, 3.5k

tooth-rotting fluff, dog owners/dads, dog wedding, established relationship, alternate universe - different first meeting, howells and lesters

Dog dads Dan and Phil marry their dogs, in preparation for their own big day

ao3 // tumblr

The maestro and his muse

chaptered but completed!

4/4

e, 5.5k

friends to lovers, mutual pining, body painting, teasing, sexual content

Phil is a professional artist. He’s always wanted to try body painting, and now he gets to, for a naked photoshoot. Unfortunately, his good friend, muse, and crush Dan Howell is his model of choice. What could go wrong?

ao3 // tumblr

Lightyear groovin’

t, 4.6k

star wars setting, dj Phil, waiter Dan, mutual pining, friends to lovers

In a galaxy far, far away, there’s an abundance of 70s clubs. On Krithoo, local party freak Dan Howell works as a waiter at an often overcrowded cantina, Virgo Volans. And maybe, just maybe, he has an infatuation with the extraterrestrial dj frequenting their stage…

ao3 // tumblr

A theism in evolution

g, 5.9k

gods au, enemies to friends to lovers, getting together, fluff and angst, emotional h/c, written entirely in letters, 1st person pov

The sungod, Phil, sends letters to Mother Gaia. He puts all his worries into words… even when he himself can’t see right through them

ao3 // tumblr

Little comfort card

g, 932

separation anxiety, established relationship, business trip, vidcon, fluff and angst, homesickness, comfort, post-coming out videos

Phil goes to VidCon alone. Cue separation anxiety, something Dan seems to have accounted for..

"The whole room felt too airy, and lacked that simple, aesthetic Dan-touch. It wasn’t quite home, so to speak."

ao3

Your hoodies (come wrapped around me)

g, 869

york hoodie, clothes sharing, fluff, moving, house cleaning

Unpacking for their move into bigger quarters, Dan finds an ancient treasure in the back of their conjoined closet.

ao3 // tumblr

Awestruck

g, 996

barista dan, youtuber phil, fanboy dan, crushes, getting together, strangers to lovers

Dan might meet his best customer at the end of his worst day, and get a little more

ao3 // tumblr

Rainbow, proud

g, 513

post-coming out videos, established relationship, domestic boyfriends, fluff, shopping

Phil really wants the corgi shirt, but Dan thinks he has enough already

ao3 // tumblr

A prickly considerate gift

it’s the piranha plant bouquet !!

g, 1k

2014, established relationship, Valentines day fluff, gift giving, flowers and language of flowers, brief depression mention, domestic fluff, nerdiness

Phil finds a substitute for real Valentine’s day flowers

ao3 // tumblr

Cherish the smile

g, 783

husbands, honeymoon, established relationship, fluff

Phil wakes on the first morning of their honeymoon; a new day to cherish Dan’s gorgeous, excited, smile

ao3 // tumblr

“Seriously?”

t, 3k

strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers sort of, getting together, angst with a happy ending, co-workers, non-youtuber au, and lots of other tags lmao

Prompt: Dan and Phil meet while candle shopping and one of them can't help but comment on how obnoxious/boring/etc the scents the other one is picking out are the time Phil met a totally-not-handsome stranger and only sort-of wished they'd never meet again. Tough luck?

ao3

The lovers (VI)

chaptered, completed !

14/14

m, 31k

friends to lovers, magical realism au, lots of angst but also fluff, happy ending (more important tags on ao3)

Dan, guardian of the forest, feels inadequate to love and of love. His best friend Phil loves him despite that.. but doesn’t know quite what to do when Dan becomes a hypocrite- playing with both their feelings

ao3 // tumblr

Colour me rosé

another chaptered wip !! though this one may not be finished in 2021, because i have so much on my plate then - enjoy what’s here though !

9/?

m, 13k so far

sugar daddy Phil, sugar baby Dan, phil is rich, eventually domestic, strangers to lovers, developing relationship and friendship, sexual content, fluff, a little angst, and like a lot lot more tags

nineteen-year-old Dan Howell is looking for a sugar daddy to help him achieve the dream of luxury and romantic affirmations. Phil Lester, newly 24 and very rich, is searching for a romantic and sexual relationship. When stumbling upon the other on the internet, similar interests and all, have they found their match?

ao3 // tumblr

Archaic Allure (sonnet)

so as it turns out, writing a fic idea can really help you out with your grade (and yes, this is actually a sonnet)

g, 104

poetry, reminiscing, fluff, Dan’s pov

Dan reminisces his love for Phil - sonnet version

ao3 // tumblr

Something in your name

t, 3.2k

implied sexual content, fanfic about fanfic, emotional hurt/comfort, separation anxiety, established relationship; and more

phil reads a y/n fic ; guess who wrote it

ao3 // tumblr

Ellie enchanted

g, 986

fluff and angst, happy ending, parent!phan, new child, adoption, established relationship, self-doubt, implied homophobia

Dan and Phil pick up their adopted child

ao3 // tumblr

Chocolate swirls

g, 3.3k

parent!phan, snapshots, bday surprises, baking, fluff and angst, cake

Dan tries to surprise Phil for his 33rd. He fails, as humans do, but ten years later he has luckily got two adorable little helpers at his side. And maybe that makes everything just a little better.

ao3 // tumblr

Dan or Da?

on ao3 this fic is just called Da, so beware of that

t, 9k

parent!phan, friends to lovers, pretend relationship (not what you think), misunderstanding, getting together, implied sexual content, marriage, canon divergence, pov alternating

One day can change your life forever. For Phil, his daughter Mel, and Dan, who’d have guessed that day would be one when all they’ve planned is doing ordinary shopping together.

ao3 // tumblr

and that’s it!! thank you for reading this sweetums, and be sure to check out any of the fics

#my fic #my fics #me #mine #phanfic #phanfiction #phandom #phan #dnp #d&p #dan and phil #masterlist #masterpost #2020 #2020 roundup #fic roundup

26 notes · View notes

leggomylino · 4 years ago

Text

S&M Act I, Scene I | Windstorm ༄

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺

Genre: Adventure, Drama, Comedy, Fluff, Angst

Pairing(s): Lee Minho x fem!reader x Kim Seungmin

Au: Wizard of Oz au

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warning(s): Minorly to moderately dark themes of suppression, depression, panic, and insanity. Mentioning of blood, dark magic, violence, and (censored) language.

A/n: I’m so happy this story is finally coming to light! <3 Thank you to everyone behind the scenes who has supported me on the creation of this series, and to anyone who has ever supported my writing ever. ^^ I hope you enjoy!!! | Inspired by the events of Dorothy Must Die, by Danielle Paige.

Tag List: @hanniiesuckle17 @distrikt9 @hanstagrams @hyunsunq @smolboiseavey @jisungsjheekies @iluvlix @moonlit-han @stay-nctzen @yangomangos @stayndays @cotccotc @skzctnightnight @multi-stan-present @dreamy-dreamies @yunhoesss (Please let me know if you’d like to be added! Comment, ask, or DM me!!!)

ღ S&M M.List | Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺

The dreams had been plaguing you for a while now.

“Y/n,” a boy’s voice spoke. “Y/n, always remember, and never forget. You must forgive, and never forget.”

“Remember what?” You’d cry out into the empty space. “Always remember what? What is it I’ve forgotten? Who is it I’m supposed to forgive?”

Alas, the empty space never told you anything. It was just a soft chuckle, the feeling of eyes lovingly watching you from somewhere far away, cloying and envious, and then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone.

~ ♕ ~

The rain pelting against your bedroom window that night had been harsh. You listened to the uproarious melody, now awake, lying in a pool of your own sweat, heart racing, wondering where you had come to and where you’d just been. It was always this way, taking time to cool down from such a feverishly swift and spiraling dream; although you were theoretically standing still in a vacant space, you felt the effects of falling as you arose.

The rain calmed you. Despite its intensity it was the one thing that gave you peace, something mentally stabilizing to cling onto and give full focus to as the echoes of a dream deferred vanished into the far recesses of your mind, where they’d be all but forgotten until the next evening. You didn’t know what you’d do when the stormy season was over-- it had already been unusual to have such a large mass of wacky weather one after the other this time of year-- and sure a ferrying rain shower or two was normal-- but you’d grown accustomed to running to the storm’s ferocity for guidance, a child’s blanket, a figurative teddy bear that you could squeeze against your thoughts when escaping the dream realm. The heavy downpour washed all of your fears and anxiety away. What would you do when it was all over, and Fall returned?

It had been so odd; with all the rain and fluctuating humidity, the flowers and Spring-Summer crops were in full bloom. You’d never experienced seasonal allergies in the Fall until now. Neither had your best friend, Hyunjin, and...speaking of…

You hadn’t realized it was morning until Hyunjin came bursting into your room with one of your uncle’s chickens in his arm. It was still raining, hard, the droplets sounding like tiny fists pounding to come inside. Doubtful to let up anytime soon. “Y/n! Are you still auditioning for the role of Sleeping Beauty up here? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure Mia Harper’s got it covered, and Aunt Em’s gonna slide me your stack of pancakes in the next ten minutes if you don’t get your share of the chores done.”

A yawn escaped you. Hyunjin and his sidekick Kkami had been coming over to assist in your busy-hermit lifestyle ever since you could remember. He was your neighbor, after all, but...more on that later. The moment Hyunjin’s words soared beneath the backlash of bad weather, you’d completely forgotten what it was you’d just been thinking about, before the rain, what it was you’d dreamed. (Ever ironic how the dream had instructed you to remember, and yet, here you were, doomed to forget.) “Yeah, okay…” You yawned, stretching and easing yourself into the usual morning (sometimes afternoon) routine. You glanced at the chicken in his arms, and his subtle goofy smile in the doorway. “Is this your way of saying you’d rather have Pluckers as your lab partner instead of me?”

He shifted his eyes thoughtfully to Pluckers, watching him twitch and litter feathers like drops of rain before giving you his answer. “...I mean, that’s not a bad idea, actually. Have you even started your half of the worksheet yet?”

Ugh. Always about school. You wanted to tell him yes, but in all honesty you’d been spending your free time and late nights with your nose lodged between Harry Potter pages or your eyes plugged and gasping over YouTube storytimes. So you clamped your mouth shut.

And now, the backstory: Hyunjin had been your best friend for years. The two of you grew up next door to each other, which for country living was pretty dang far; having someone as your neighbor here was the same thing as having them live down the block. You’d never known your parents; you were adopted at a young age by your Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, who weren’t biologically related to you in any sense and just as good as any biological pair of adults. The details surrounding your DNA relatives-- and the year you’d come to live here-- were all unknown to you. The only story you’d ever gotten out of Aunt Em was that they’d had you from “knee-high” and that you couldn’t remember because of a nasty fall from one of Uncle Henry’s apple trees; Uncle Henry himself refused to speak of the subject at all, either pretending he needed hearing aids or choosing to run into the next room.

Hyunjin was your only friend in school. You’d never been very good in the communication department; growing up in a small town made your comfort zone the same. But not Hyunjin. He was popular and kind and got along with everyone. He had a gift for catching people’s eyes: every boy envied him, every girl drooled over him, and all your teachers and professors fawned and smiled and patted him on the back, even when he’d blurted out the “dog ate my homework” excuse in eighth grade and you proudly stood up and announced that he didn’t have a dog, disregarding Kkami, just for the amusement of finally seeing him choke and get scolded for once in his life. Instead you found yourself pouting with the Cone of Shame in silence while Hyunjin outrageously was given a star on the Good Noodle chart. It’d been the one moment to ruin your friendship for the remainder of class...until he gave you his Free Ice Cream ticket for PeachyKeen’s ice cream parlor downtown. Then, you were okay.

Even now, in your town’s small local college, he was applauded by all. The only person you’d ever seen frown his way was Uncle Henry, who often argued that a boy of his age shouldn’t be barging into a young lady’s room anymore. But Aunt Em always shrugged him off, quoting her famous “times change” saying and shoved a slice of pie before him, and he was back to watching TV.

A flash of lighting lit up the dim clouded sky, followed by the roar of thunder, and with a panicked squawk Pluckers shot out of Hyunjin’s arms, leaving a trail of feathers to follow down the hall. With a nervous look the two of you exchanged a nod before Hyun gave chase, closing the door behind him, and you got right to work getting ready for the day. It was Saturday, meaning no school, however there was still plenty of farmwork to do and the crops in the field weren’t going to protect themselves. Not from yesterday’s shower, and not from today’s.

You hustled downstairs with toothbrush hanging from your lips, dawned in your favorite plaid skirt and lime-green raincoat, the one with the little frog face over the left breast. Ruffling Kkami awake, Hyunjin’s “beloved baby,” you tossed her a treat from the clay jar you and Hyunjin had made together for her in sixth grade art, spinning and spitting in the kitchen sink.

Aunt Em gave you a nervous look as you tossed the brush in the dishwasher and started aggressively inhaling cinnamon apple pancakes like a beloved Nintendo character. “...And how is my favorite girl this afternoon?” She asked. Her whimsical tone made your neck blush.

“Sorry, I stayed up late studying again.”

“Studying the wizarding world of Hogwarts, you mean?”

“...Perhaps?”

You smiled apple bits and maple syrup, and she laughed, waving a dish towel at you and squinting the other way. “Keep your mouth closed until you're done. Didn’t I teach you better manners than that?”

“I dunno, did you?”

Her eyes bore into yours in warning and you laughed harder, nearly choking on the last bite of spiced apple goodness. Aunt Em sighed, shaking her head while wiping her hands clean. “I suppose I walked right into that one.” She nodded toward the side door, leading to the barn. “Hurry before the storm picks up. It’s gonna be another bad one, they say, so if the wind picks up anymore or it starts hailing or God forbid you see a giant funnel in the sky, I want the two of you right back inside, you hear?”

“Funnel cake?!” Uncle Henry called. He was glued to his usual pleather chair when he wasn’t out tending to the garden or the farm animals or fixing a leaky faucet. He was also in need of a hearing aid; working eight hours a day around screeching metals and brazen farm animals had left his eardrums in shambles. Aunt Em rolled her eyes, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“Not cake, I’m talking about the weather!”

“It’s raining cake?!?”

She groaned, earning a chuckle from the two of you. It was cut short when Hyunjin came stumbling past, spitting out feathers and just in arms reach of a couple hens, Pluckers in the lead, signaling that brunch was over. “Thanks for the meal!” you said, shoving the plate forward.

“Be careful!” Em’s voice bridged across the living room. “You two look out for one another! And hurry!”

“We will!” You shouted back. The sound of the door clicking shut was barely audible beneath the heavy thunks of raindrops slamming against the tin roof as the two (five?) of you ventured out into the stormy play.

You wished then you would have taken just the sliver of a moment to look back.

~ ♕ ~

You’d never seen a flourishing of colors much like the one taking place outside. Turnips turning upwards, tulips banging heads, carrots and corn stalks exchanging blows before ending up on opposite sides of the field. Sunflowers having the sun beat out of them. It was something out of the rising action of a thriller movie. You’d seen similar scenes in nearly half the Harry Potter movies; the only thing missing were wizards and wands and perhaps a giant dragon.

“You round up Maribelle!” Hyunjin yelled over the storm. His arms were spread wide as he squinted and squatted through the blinding rain, ushering the rest of the chickens and hens inside the barn. “I’ll get the horses next!”

Nodding you ran through sloshing mud puddles and drowning fields of grain towards the feeding pasture, where dear old Maribelle the could be found, often grazing on weeds or spreading out for an afternoon sunbath. The lone cow of SunnySkies pastures for fifteen years, and the first to join the farm. Instead you found her darting bug eyes around wildly, her knobby limbs quivering beneath a willow tree that provided little protection, the willows only adding to the streams of precipitation pouring over her stiff brown fur. She gave you a frantic moo and bobbed her head in relief to see you.

“There, there,” you soothed, whipping the grass and water from her eyes. “Quickly now, let’s get you into the barn before this picks up anymore.”

She moo-ed again, lower this time, giving you an argueless agreement.

You sledged hard against the rising winds, the blades of greenery that cut surprisingly sharp like razor blades, leaving a small mark upon your cheek. You winced, annoyed at the slight sting, the small drops of crimson that came up against your fingertips only to be washed away just as quickly. It began to rain harder, faster, the wind practically howling in your ears. The faint sounds of a freight train or some sort of heavy machinery filled the distance.

“Let’s hurry, now,” you encouraged your steed, pulling her along beside you. She was reluctant to move, frightened by the spiraling commotion around her. It didn’t help when something snapped beneath your feet, a twig, maybe, or some glass. As if on cue the willow tree came crashing down with a thud.

You braced yourself, sucking in a sharp breath; you needed to get inside; but Maribelle had other plans. Startled, she ran a wayward direction, disappearing in the fog that was beginning to settle over the pasture. “Mari--!” you began to call, taking two steps forward-- ‘til the cries of another all but took your breath away, making you forget about Maribelle, making you forget about everything.

You stood, jaw slacked, slit-eyed, watching Hyunjin blow away. He wiggled in the fierce storm breeze like a flag pitched on the roof. “Y/N!!!” He screamed, clinging to the roof’s edge for dear life. “Y/N, GET INSIDE!!! CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!!!”

“HYUNJIN!” You bleated back. “HYUNJIN, HANG ON!!! I’M COMING!!!”

“NO, IT’S TOO DANGEROUS, GO-- AHHH!” He shrieked and ducked his head beneath a flying branch. “...GO INSIDE!!! CALL THE PRESIDENT!!!”

“I’m not calling the President,” you huffed, fighting your way across sideways weather and flyaway hairs to latch yourself onto the barn ladder. Of all the times to crack jokes, only Hyunjin would choose a raging level eight storm. “Hang on I’m coming…!”

...Your voice trailed off as your head listed aside, something bouncing in the corner of your eye. There, rounding the side of the barnhouse, was Kkami, frolicking like a happy-go-lucky lamb to Hyunjin’s side.

“Arf! Rwarf!”

“KKAMI?!?”

Your blood went cold. If Hyunjin caught wind of Kkami, it was all over. “Kkami!” you hissed, or at least tried to over the roaring ninety-miles-per-hour winds. “Go back inside! Go! Shoo!”

“IS THAT MY BABY DOWN THERE?!?!”

Oi. “N-NO, IT ISN’T! JUST A BRANCH!!!”

Ushering Kkami with a branch at least beneath the safety of the barn roof, you hustled back to the side of the building. The rain made it slick and hard to hold onto, but you scaled the side of the barnhouse as fast as possible, avoiding loose vegetation and swatting at leaves and smaller branches and once a lemon wedge that the storm must have torn in two somehow, crawling up loose shingles and various askew obstacles and then...then…

This was the hardest part to remember, a part you wish you didn’t have to remember. Face wet, hair whipping in the tempest breeze, you reached for Hyun’s hand, kneeling, pleading, focusing thoughts on hot cocoa and warm lemon pie inside, an Aunt Em specialty. The reality you were so certain in. A reality that would never come.

“Gotcha...!”

Your hands met, fingers touched, smiles of relief shared. But it only lasted a moment before the rainstorm ripped him away, your cries drowning in the funnel that appeared in the sky...or at least that’s how you wished to remember it: in reality there was a soft, whimpering arf!, followed by your best friend’s gasp as he relinquished your grasp to adhere himself to the skies after Kkami, now paddling against the storm’s current, cries of “My baby!” and anguished “AAAAH”s lost on the wind.

And you could only watch him go, just seeing him manage to latch onto his beloved pet of nine-odd years before disappearing from sight, sucked into the giant magnetizing center of it all you’d completely failed to notice, the last thing from his lips a cry to your name. It’d appeared out of nowhere, substantial and vigorous. Pulling into the station, the train had arrived, uprooting and tearing apart everything in its path. A giant, swirling cloud of gray and gravel and doom.

Oddly enough, in that paralyzing moment, something clicked in the back of your mind: a cursory afterthought at the eye of the storm.

“Always remember, and never forget. You must forgive, and never forget.”

You stared into the eye harder.

“Come home, Y/n. Come home.”

“Y/N!!!” Aunt Em’s frantic voice screeched below. “Y/N, HYUNJIN!!! Y/N?!?”

You couldn’t look. Couldn’t move. Horror froze you to the barn, eyes locked on the exact spot you last saw Hyunjin disappear, the trance calling you deeper and deeper into a strange petrifying submission, until the tornado whorled to your doorstep and swept you away; the pasture, the barn, your home. Everything.

༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺

ღ S&M M.List | Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

Smoke & Mirrors. Copyright © 2020 - 2021 poeticallyspaghetti.tumblr.com. Unauthorized use or reproduction of works is expressly prohibited. Do not repost, plagiarize, claim as your own, or translate my works. Thank you. <3

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carly-they-jepsen · 5 years ago

Text

RWRB Timeline

I originally worked out the timeline for Sep. 27, 2020, and when people suggested I post it on tumblr, I said fuck it and did the whole book.

Go big or go home, right?

I have spent the past 3 days working on this. It’s half summaries of the events of the days in order, and half “here’s a one sentence summary of the day”.

Whenever possible, I’ve detailed out when things happen by the hour, like the day at Wimbledon, or the email leak day, including guesstimations on flight times, and what time EST and BST Alex is taking off and landing. I often forgot to add vague things like “morning” in, so sorry about that.

I’ve bolded all the dates I’m sure of.

Bold and italics means an official date: emails, text threads, tweets, holidays, Georgetown, etc.

Two asterisks ** = official dates.

Just bold means a day I’m sure of, based off of official dates: Two weeks later, day one post lake house, “a tuesday”, etc.

One asterisk: * = something I’m sure of based on official dates.

I’ve also bolded days of the week I’m sure of, even if I’m not certain of the date.

I’ve left a few things vague. Like, October 2020 is a lot of “sometime between these days, this happened”. Feel free to pick a day in that range to your heart’s content.

If you don’t like the day I picked for little things like Bea walking in on face time, or coming out to June, feel free to change it.

I didn’t bold everything I’m certain on, as I technically don’t have textual evidence to back it up. (Things like the wedding day, Alex and Henry’s texts at in the beginning, some things during the campaign.)

I’m 100% willing to answer questions on why I chose certain days, and any other questions or comments you may have!

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

**Aug. 28, 2019 (Wed.) — Alex starts classes at Georgetown, Winter Semester 2019

Sep. 7-Sep. 8, 2019 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 5-6) — Alex and June attend an event and listen to an hour and a half of speeches about carbon emissions. June is whisked away to a star studded gala. Alex shows up to the presidential suite with a bottle of champagne. Around 4 a.m. Alex leaves after fake hooking up with Nora.

Sep. 12, 2019 (Th.) (p. 3-8) — June and Alex go over the tabloids. Alex has been working on a research paper all week

Sep. 13, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 8-12) — The US crew flies to London.

6 a.m. EST: Take off.

5 p.m. BST: Land in London. (Wiggle the take off time to your heart’s content. Flight is around 6 hours give or take for Air Force 1, plus time to and from the airport, plus the time change. The flight time is “11 hours” with the time change if that helps you calculate the landing time in London.) They potentially have 1-2 appearances that evening.

Sep. 14, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 12-20) — The royal wedding. The US crew has 1-2 appearances before arriving at the ceremony. The ceremony happens. Reception happens at a Buckingham ballroom. The White House Trio chats, Henry dances with June. Alex finds Henry hovering by the champagne fountain and they argue. Alex trips over his own foot and crashes into the $75k wedding cake, pulling Henry down with him.

Sep. 16, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 21-27) — Alex gets chewed out over the Incident by Zahra and the President in a White House briefing room. He gets told he will be leaving Saturday to make nice with Henry in England.

Sometime between Mon. Sep. 16 and Fri. Sep. 20, 2019 (p. 27-32) — Alex, Nora, and June meet in the Whitehouse and go over the HRH Prince Henry Fact Sheet. Alex bemoans the fact that he just finished his midterms.

Sep. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 32-37) — Alex leaves in the early a.m. EST and arrives late afternoon/early evening in London. (11-12 hour difference in takeoff time to landing time. Note, this is just DC to Lon., not the other way round.). Meets Henry at the stable and a royal photographer takes pictures.

Sep. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 37-53) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex is wide awake and goes into the kitchen for a snack. Henry stumbles in, and Alex posts a photo of them with their ice cream on Instagram.

9 a.m.: Interview with The Morning.

Afternoon meeting with cancer patients. Alex and Henry spend some time in the closet chatting after fireworks are mistaken for gunshots. Before his flight home, Alex puts his number in Henry’s phone. Likely lands around 7-8 p.m. EST.

Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 54-61) — Alex has a lecture on presidential sex scandals. Texts Nora about the probability of one of them having a sex scandal by the end of the second term and she replies with 94% and a link to a gifset of Henry and Alex at The Morning where someone has commented “omfg make out already”. Alex meets with Rafael Luna after his class.

Sometime between Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) and Oct. 6, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 61-68) — June, Alex, Leo, and Ellen have dinner together. June texts Alex to have dinner and he forgets to respond until 1.5 hours later when Ellen texts about family dinner. She offers them jobs in the campaign and June turns it down the next morning.

Oct. 9, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68) — Henry texts Alex while Alex is in a policy lecture. His opening line is “this bloke looks like you” with a picture of the Ewok Chief Chirpa from Return of the Jedi.

Oct. 16, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68-69) — Alex finally responds a week later after seeing a headline on the cover of People about Henry in Australia with a photo of him in a pair of minuscule navy swim trunks. “you have a lot of moles. is that a result of the inbreeding?

Oct. 18, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 69) — Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Alex gets ejected from Zahra’s weekly debriefing meeting with him and June.

Oct. 19-Oct. 28, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 69-71) — Henry and Alex text regularly on a variety of topics including family, friends, beer, boats, and Hogwarts houses.

**Oct. 29, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 71-72) — Henry texts Alex about being in a meeting with Philip. Later that night Alex replies, asking what the meeting was about.

**Oct. 30, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 73) — 1:07 p.m. EST Henry and Alex text about Henry’s grey tie in his instagram post.

**Nov. 17, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 74) — 11:04 a.m. EST: Henry receives a box of Ellen Claremont campaign buttons with Alex’s face on them. Sniffer dogs were nearly called after the security theme thought it was a bomb. Alex and Henry text about it.

**Nov. 25, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 75-84) — Alex finds out that the turkeys his mom will be pardoning have been staying in the Willard Hotel on taxpayers dime. He convinces her to put them in his room.

10 p.m. EST/3 a.m. GMT: Alex regrets his decisions. He calls Henry to prove they’re as terrifying as Alex claims and they have a long conversation about the turkeys, Henry’s pets, and how Henry surprises Alex.

**Dec. 8, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 84) — 8:53 p.m. EST: Alex texts Henry about a Bond marathon happening on TV. He asks if Henry knows his dad was a total babe, which Henry replies with “I BEG YOU NOT”

*Dec. 20, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 84-85) — Ellen reads an article in the Post with the headline “Senator Oscar Diaz Returns to DC For Holidays With Ex-Wife President Claremont”. She continues to stress about decorations in the Lincoln Bedroom for Oscar.

*Dec. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 85) — Oscar Diaz arrives at the White House. June nearly breaks a vase launching herself into his arms. Oscar and June disappear to the chocolate shop on the ground floor.

*Dec. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 85-86) — Oscar and Alex bond over a cigar on the Truman Balcony.

*Dec. 23, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 87) — Alex catches Oscar in the kitchens with two of the cooks, laughing and dumping peppers into a pot.

*Dec. 21-23, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 86-87) — Alex wishes it could be like this more often and misses having everyone under one roof.

**Dec. 24, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 87-95) — Christmas dinner is held on Christmas Eve so Zahra can still attend. Zahra wears a sensible red turtleneck. Alex wears a sweater covered in bright green tinsel. ‘O Christmas Tree” plays out of a speaker near his armpit when he presses a button on the inside of his sleeve. Dinner conversation moves to the election. Oscar and Ellen argue. Alex loses his temper and leaves.

9:30 p.m. EST/2:30 a.m. GMT: Alex changes into an old lacrosse shirt and calls Henry. Henry is wearing candy cane pjs. Alex tells Henry about the divorce and what happened at dinner and only realizes he’s been talking for an hour when henry says “It sounds like you did your best.) June knocks on the door and Alex hangs up after thanking Henry and wishing him a Merry Christmas.

10:30 p.m.: June and Alex talk about what happened after Alex left and then Alex tells her he was talking to Henry, not Nora.

**Dec. 26, 2019 (Th.) (p. 95-97) — Alex spends the day going over waivers for the “Legendary Balls Out Bananas White House Trio New Year’s Eve Party” aka “The Young America New Year’s Eve Gala” aka “The Millennial Correspondents Dinner”.

Dec. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 96-97) — Alex discovers Henry is coming to the party and bringing Pez when he glances at the final guest list while the Trio are looking at confetti samples and eating cake samples.

**Dec. 31, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 97-103) — Pez posts a picture of him and Henry on a private jet headed to DC with the caption “USA bound! #YoungAmericaGala2019” Pez has dyed his hair pastel pink, and Henry is wearing a grey sweatshirt. Alex texts Henry that he will be wearing a burgundy suit and warns Henry to not attempt to outshine Alex, as he will fail and Alex will be embarrassed for him. Henry replies “Wouldn’t dream of it”. After that the Trio begins getting ready. Nora’s short curls are swept to the side with a matching silver pin to the geometric designs on the bodice of her black dress. June’s gown is midnight blue and perfectly compliments the navy-and-gold color palette they chose for the party.

8 p.m.: Guests begin to arrive. The first wave includes some White House interns, and the daughter of a first time Senator and her girlfriend. The second wave is the politically strategic invites chosen by the press team, and finally the fashionably late, including Minor to mid-range popstars and the children of major celebrities.

Pez and Henry show up. Pez is in a colorful floral print shiny silk bomber jacket. Henry is wearing a simple dark blue suit with a bright coppery-mustard tie in a narrow cut. Alex realizes this is the first time they’ve seen each other in person since their weekend in London and feels like he’s meeting a new person.

There's dancing and mingling, and June makes a speech about the immigration fund they’re supporting with their donations. June and Henry talk at the bar.

The live band breaks and the DJ takes over. Alex finds out Henry hasn’t ever dry humped to “Get Low”. There’s more dancing and crowd pleasers until midnight.

11:59 p.m.: They huddle together for the countdown.

**Jan. 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 103-108) — 12:00 a.m. Nora kisses Alex

Alex loses track of things. Alex goes looking for Henry. He eventually finds him under a tree. They talk. Henry is vague and Alex is dummy thicc. Henry calls Alex thick and kisses him. Henry pulls away and disappears from the party.

*Jan. 1-Jan. 4, 2020 (Th.-Sat.) (p. 109) — Alex tries listening in on his mom’s meeting as a distraction but can’t pay attention. Zahra bans him from the West Wing.

*Jan. 5-Jan 7, 2020 (Sun.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex studies bills going through Congress and considers making the rounds at the Senate or starting a rumor with Nora, but he has no enthusiasm.

**Jan. 8, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 109) — Alex begins his final semester at Georgetown.

*Jan. 9-Jan. 14, 2020 (Th.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex throws himself into classwork, meets with the social secretary to plan his graduation dinner. Henry doesn’t answer his texts.

*Jan. 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 110-114) — June is fed up with Alex’s pacing and takes him out for a run. Alex does some introspection. Alex tells his mom he wants to start his campaign job now, instead of waiting until he graduates.

*Jan. 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 115) — Alex starts his new job at the campaign offices.

*Jan. 20-Jan. 25, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 115-116) — Alex puts 23 hours into his new job and Definitely Does Not Think About Henry.

*Sometime between Jan. 25 and Jan 29, 2020 (Fri.-Wed.) (p. 116-122) — Alex comes out to Nora and tells her about Henry.

*Jan. 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 122-127) — Alex rushes from work to his lecture and review and returns to the White House in a bad mood. June has the week’s tabloids. Alex freaks out at the idea that Henry is going on a date with a girl. Alex finally realizes he’s not straight. Alex calls Liam.

*Jan. 31, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 128-146) — The state dinner. There's a hot makeout session and Alexander Hamilton watches.

10:48 p.m.: Alex paces around his room.

10:54 p.m. Henry arrives at Alex’s rooms

*Feb. 1, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 122) — Alex has a campaign event in Nebraska

Feb. 13, 2020 (Th.) (p. 146-147) — Henry informs Alex of a charity polo match in Greenwich, Connecticut. That evening, June asks why he’s bailing on the fund-raiser he’s meant to be at

**Feb. 15, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 147-152) — The polo match. Alex spends 4.5 hours driving up, stays for 3 hours, and then drives 4.5 hours back.

**March 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 152) — 7:32 p.m. EST: Alex sends Henry an email asking if he will be in Paris for a fundraiser that weekend.

**March 4, 2020, (Wed.) (p. 152-156) — 2:14 a.m.-2:43 a.m.: Henry replies, and eventually concedes after a brief back and forth.

*March 7-8, 2020 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 157-158) — Henry and Alex have a clandestine hookup in Paris and spend the night together.

*March 8, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 158) — Zahra texts Alex a screenshot of a buzzfeed article about him and Henry.

*March 9-March 27, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 158-159) — Alex and Henry continue to text.

Sometime between March 23 and 26, 2020 (Mon.-Th.) (p. 159) — Alex tells Henry about a voter drive he will be attending in NYC at the end of March and Henry re-schedules his visit to NYC for that weekend.

*March 27, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 159) — Alex and Henry celebrate their birthdays with champagne and a buttercream cupcake.

April 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 159) — Alex convinces Henry to download Snapchat.

April 4, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 159) — Henry sends a snap of him on a sailboat.

April 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 182) — Bea walks in on an after-dark FaceTime session.

April 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 160) — Henry is right that Remus John Lupin is gay as the day is long and won’t hear a word against it.

April 10, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 161) — June notices the photo of the man with AIDS protesting pinned over Alex’s desk

*April 11, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 162) — Henry and Alex meet at a gala in Berlin. Alex ties Henry’s wrists to the bedpost.

*April 13, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 162-163) — Zahra notices the hickeys on Alex’s neck at the weekly briefing.

*April 25, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 163-173) — Someone paints “Powder Princess” on the side of Bea’s car. Late afternoon EST: Henry and Alex have a phone call largely centered around family.

April 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 173-182) — 9:44 p.m.: Alex redraws districts in Texas and misses dinner with June. After getting back to the Residence, June reveals she’s known about Alex and Henry the whole time.

*May 2, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 183-185) — 4 a.m. EST/9 a.m. BST: Alex FaceTimes Henry and Pez at Llwynywermod.

**May 1-9, 2020 (Fri.-Sat.) (p. 185) — Georgetown finals week

**May 15, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 186-189) — Alex graduates summa cum laude from Georgetown. Jacinto drops out, making Richards the official Republican nominee. Alex eavesdrops on a conversation between Rafael Luna and Oscar Diaz.

Sometime between May 16 and May 22, 2020 (Sat.-Fri.) (p. 189) — Henry invites the Trio to a fund-raiser in LA the next weekend.

*May 30, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 189-200) — Alex gets lunch with his dad, who changes the subject every time Alex brings up the conversation with Luba. Alex attends the fund-raiser in LA followed by partying. Henry and Alex fuck.

*May 31, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 200-201) — 7:00 a.m.: Alex and Henry wake up. June, Nora, and Pez are heavily implied to have had a threesome. Alex realizes he has friends now.

**June 8, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 202-206) — 3:23 p.m.-7:21 p.m. EST: Henry and Alex exchange emails.

**June 13, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Alex misses his first DC pride while in Nevada. He “talks to his minibar about it”

*June 20, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Houston rally at Minute Maid Park.

*June 22, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 207-210) — Alex argues with WASPy Hunter about Texas. Alex looks up LSAT testing centers in DC.

*June 23, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 210-213) — Alex texts the groupchat “3 Geniuses and Alex” with Nora, Bea, and Henry asking where his speech for Milwaukee is.

Sometime between June 24 and July 3, 2020 (Wed.-Fri.) (p. 213) — Alex receives an invitation to Wimbledon

*July 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 213) — 10:20 p.m. EST: Alex takes off from DC for London.

**July 6, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 213-221) — Alex spends his one day off from the campaign at Wimbledon with Henry.

10:35 a.m. BST: Alex lands in London.

11:30 a.m.: Alex makes it through customs and Henry and Shaan pick him up at the airport.

12:30 p.m.: Arrival at Wimbledon

1:00 p.m.: The first game at Central Court begins

4:00 p.m.: Philip and Martha show up. Philip is an idiot that says “Morning”. Bea, like a smart person, says “Afternoon”. Henry and Philip argue, and Henry runs off.

4:10 p.m.: Alex finds Henry in the clubhouse

4:12 p.m.: Henry “shows Alex round the clubhouse”. Alex and Henry cum for the first time

After that they go to Kensington. Henry plays the piano for a while. They make out for what could be hours. They move to Henry’s room where Henry, at least, cums for the second time that day. Alex spends almost an hour making Henry cum for a third time. After that, Henry asks Alex to fuck him again, where Henry cums for the fourth time that day, and Alex cums for at least the second time, possibly a third time.

Alex takes hours to sleep.

*July 7, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 221-222) — 9:00 a.m. BST: Alex flies home to DC and lands around 9:10 a.m. EST for DNC prep.

The Richards campaign leaks they’ve tapped an independant.

*July 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 222) — Claremont campaign releases the official platform.

*July 11, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 221-222) — Richards holds a rally at Vanderbilt University.

**July 14, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 223-224) — The gang flies to NYC on the evening of the second day of the DNC.

9:00 p.m.: The Richards campaign announces that the Independent senator joining Richards’s cabinet is Rafael Luna.

9:15 p.m.: Air Force One lands and the White House crew goes into crisis management meetings. Alex texts Luna “What the fuck”

11:00 p.m.: Luna responds “I don’t expect you to understand”.

*July 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 224-234) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex and June leave meetings and get harassed by a Post reporter. June goes to bed, and Alex goes to the bar where he meets Henry. They retire to Alex’s room.

6:45 a.m.: Zahra wakes Alex (and Henry) up, and discovers their relationship.

July 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 235-239) — 1:00 p.m.: Alex comes out to his mother.

2:00 p.m. — Ellen gives a PowerPoint presentation, then makes Alex do paperwork and kicks him off the campaign.

**Aug. 10, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 239-247) 1:04 a.m.-8:22 p.m. EST — Henry and Alex exchange emails about the complex nature of their relationship, and Alex extends an invite to the lake house.

*Aug. 22, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 247-257) — Day one of the lake house. The Trio arrive earlier, possibly on Friday. Early morning: They gas up the car before taking it to the hangar to pick up Henry in Austin. 1.5 hours — The drive to the lake. They arrive, Oscar welcomes everyone. Alex barbecues ribs. They spend the evening after dinner singing and playing guitar. Alex and Henry sleep in separate bunks

*Aug. 23, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 257-264) — Day two of the lake house. Alex makes breakfast. In the afternoon, Henry talks to Oscar about boats and outboard motors. They swim. That night, Henry and Alex go skinny dipping

*Aug. 24, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 264-265) — Alex wakes up to find that Henry has left.

*Aug. 25, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 266, 267) — Alex sends five texts to Henry. He also paces on the roof of the residence and wrecks his heels.

*Aug. 26, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 266) — Alex sends two texts to Henry.

*Aug. 27, 2020 (Thu.) (p. 266) — Alex sends no texts to Henry.

*Aug. 28, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 266) — Alex trains himself to check his phone after two hours instead of one.

Sometime between Aug. 25-28 (Tue.-Fri.) (p. 267) — Alex’s Claremont for America mug is smashed in the sink. 2.5 different dreams of Henry’s hair. An email is drafted and deleted.

*Aug. 29, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 267) — Luna makes his fifth campaign stop for Richards. Alex breaks his phone screen and it is replaced by the end of the day.

*Aug. 31, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 267-276) — Alex finds the note Henry left in the pocket of his kimono and smashes his phone.

5:45 a.m. EST/10 a.m. BST: Alex buys first class nonstop tickets for him and Cash and sends Cash a text.

7:45 a.m./12:45 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight begins boarding

8:00 a.m./1:00 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight leaves Dulles for London. Alex calls Zahra on the runways and asks her to call them a car in London

3:15 p.m./8:15 p.m.: The plane lands and they leave for Kensington

4:00 p.m./9:00 p.m.: They arrive in Kensington.

*Sep. 1, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 276-284) — Henry goes for a run. Philip eats plain toast. They have a conversation in the kitchen. Alex wakes up alone. Henry brings Alex coffee. They spend the day together.

**Sep. 2, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 284-293) — 2:00 a.m.: Henry and Alex sneak out and explore the V&A.

5:00 a.m. EST/10:00 a.m. BST: Alex and Cash’s plane departs from Heathrow to Dulles.

3:00 p.m. EST/8:00 p.m. BST: Alex arrives back home.

5:12 p.m. EST: Alex emails Henry to say he arrived back home

**Sep. 3, 2020 (Th.) (p. 294-297) — 2:49 a.m. EST: Henry replies, mentions he’s considering coming out to Philip and he may have to enlist.

6:20 a.m. EST: Alex responds, worried that Henry might have to enlist. He is supportive of Henry coming out.

**Sep. 4, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 297-304) — 7:58 p.m. EST: Henry says he came out to Philip and talks about putting memories into rooms.

8:31 p.m. EST: Alex responds and sends Henry an incomplete list.

Sep. 14, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 305-310) — Zahra shows up with a diamond ring at the breakfast weekly brief. Footage of Henry and Alex at the DNC is leaked. June posts a photo of her and Henry on instagram and it spreads within hours.

Alex takes Nora on a fake date as Henry flies to DC. Henry lands in the middle of the night.

Sep. 15, 2020 (Tue.) (310-313) — June lets Alex into her SUV in the morning on the way to her fake date with Henry. After an hour at the cafe, Henry and Alex meet in the SUV and kiss. They don’t notice when someone takes pictures

*Sep. 24, 2020 (Th.) (p. 314-318) — Alex meets with Luna and comes out to him. He returns to the residence, attempts to call Henry, and then gets drunk.

**Sep. 25, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 319-321) — 3:21 a.m. EST/8:21 a.m. BST: Alex sends a drunk email.

6:07 a.m./11:07 a.m.: Henry replies.

**Sep. 27, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 321-344) — Email Leak Day

3 a.m. EST/8 a.m. BST: News breaks.

3:23 a.m./8:23 a.m. Zahra wakes Alex up and puts him on communications lockdown. Alex meets with his mom.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: Philip arrives at Kensington

8:00 a.m./3:00 p.m.: Alex gets out of meetings, starts napping

1:00 p.m./6:00 p.m.: Zahra tells Alex to pack a bag

7:00 p.m./12:00: They arrive at Kensington

11:00 p.m./4:00 a.m.: Alex finally climbs into bed next to Henry.

*Sep. 28, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 344-358) — Philip shows up at Kensington, hair uncombed and suit askew. Philip yells at them in the kitchen about breaking the communication embargo. Henry leaves, and Alex follows and leaves Philip red in the kitchen.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: They meet with the queen.

Alex takes a photo of a mural and posts it on Twitter on his way to the airplane

**Sep. 29, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 358-367) — 9:15 p.m. Jezebel tweets about DC Dykes on Bikes chasing Westboro Baptist protesters down Pennsylvania Ave.

Alex gets back to DC. Nora comes busting in with proof.

*Sep. 30, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 367-370) — The White House leaks proof of the Richarads campaign stalking, surveilling, hacking, and outing Alex. Rafael Luna announces on twitter he has left the campaign. The podcast Bills, Bills, Bills, records an episode about it.

**Oct. 2, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 370-383) — In the morning, Alex gives his speech, which June wrote. Henry is there to support him. They make out for like 45-55 minutes before the speech. Jeffrey Richards goes on CNN. Alex sees Luna in his office. Luna tells Alex about his past with Richards.

*Oct. 3, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 375) — A crowd at the Mall. Cash, Amy, and Amy’s wife are there.

*Oct. 4, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 383-385, 409) — 7:32 a.m.: The boys wake up.

9:30 a.m.: Henry leaves back to England.

Alex goes back to the campaign trail. Liam calls.

*Oct. 4-10, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 389) — The crown makes decisions about what to do about the emails: re Bea's addiction reveal, and Henry enlisting.

Sometime between Oct. 11-17, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 391) — Philip has a falling out with the queen and apologizes to Henry and Bea.

Sometime between Oct. 25-31, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 386-392) — The photoshoot in Hyde park.

*Nov. 2, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 393-399) — Day before election day. Alex struggles to pick a tie. June gets a book deal. The Trio falls asleep in the bed together.

**Nov. 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 400-418) — Election day

Alex votes.

6:00 p.m.: The Trio arrives at the election night event.

6:37 p.m. Henry texts Alex about plane troubles.

7:32 p.m.: Oliver Westbrook from Bills, Bills, Bills tweets about GOPers backing Richards even after everything that’s happened.

8:04 p.m.: 538 politics tweets that they’re confused about Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin being too close to call.

9:15 p.m.: NYT tweets that Claremont is at 178 and Richards is at 113

9:30 p.m.: Ellen worries about losing and asks June to write a concession speech. June refuses. Alex makes a speech. Henry finally arrives.

10:30 p.m.: Richards takes Iowa, Utah, and Montana. Claremont gets California’s 55 electoral votes.

12:00 a.m.: Claremont has the lead. Alex runs into Liam. Florida and Nevada go red.

12:30 a.m.: Texas goes blue.

1:00 a.m.: Alex unlocks the door with the key around his neck.

#rwrb #rwarb #rwrb spoilers #rwrb timeline #alex claremont diaz #prince henry of wales #this is exactly 5k #meta #i guess #long post

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