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vanchlo · 4 years

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The Firsts / #1 “The First Time Meeting The Family”

ABOUT: A blurb series retelling the important firsts in the first year or so in Becks and Harry’s relationship, covering the gap between the end of The Assistant, and the beginning of its sequel, The Partner.

---> NEXT BLURB: I hope that I can put it out on October 4th, following the every other week rule, but I’m not sure with my busy schedule. Keep an eye out for updates on the series masterlist!

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

italics : a flashback in the story.

++ : a point of view change in the story.

WARNINGS: Some mild language, and a small incidence of physical assault

WORD COUNT: 10.9k words (!!!)

SONG: A Love Like This by Ben Rector (CLICK TO LISTEN AND I KNOW I USE TOO MANY OF HIS SONGS BUT THEYRE SOOO ROMANTIC)

* SNEAK PEEK, DUH BC ALWAYS *

“Always, baby - protect you, save you- you name it and ‘ll be there,” Harry coos with the softest of smiles, tracing with his thumb the new red lines that litter my face in places. “Always,” he whispers, leaning forward to kiss the place under my eye where my birthmark sits, and beside it a new scar that he’s kissed more times than I could count.

I could never keep track of how many times I’ve looked at him and silently said those three words that once itched to jump off of my tongue and into his ears. The very three that sit in his eyes, just for me.

“No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it gets, you gotta keep grinding. And that’s how we’re gonna win. We’re gonna win and anyone that gets in our way? Well, God help them.” - Dean Winchester, Supernatural

The phone rang with a shrill bringggggg!, yanking a sigh from my lips.

Another one.

Another sigh.

Another call.

It’s just another normal day for me.

After sliding back on the mask that I so often wear within these walls, I at last leave my office and the phone that tends to keep ringing off the hook. Ignoring it and letting the answering machine take it this time, my heels click-clack on the dark tiled floor, a sound I had long ago become accustomed to.

Yet another sound is that of the hot coffee churning into my mug from the Keurig in the break room, and the splash of the creamer I pour in next.

A sound that I don’t think I could ever get used to, nor would I want to become mundane, is that of the breathy giggle trickling out from my open office when I return. He doesn’t see me yet, but I see him as I take a page from his book and lean in the doorway to watch him. Steam wafts across my smiling lips before the coffee meets them, my eyes fixed on the back of his tousled curls.

“It’s about time your meeting finished,” I announce, returning to my stride as I close the door. Setting down the hot mug on the corner of my desk, I tread over to my chair and let my arms wind around his neck from behind.

“Yer tellin’ me,” he nearly scoffs, switching apps on his phone quickly.

“What are you being secretive about, hmm, Harry?” I tease with a peck to his satiny smooth cheek.

“Oh, nuthin’, I jus’ wanted t’ check tha weather. Reckon we’re in fer some sun this weekend, yet anotha thing that’s overdue. We should go on a hike or sumthin’ Sunday, but we might need our Wellies.”

“You say that I’m a bad liar, but you should know that so are you,” I huff against his cheek, catching a whiff of his aftershave’s notes of cucumber and aloe vera.

“I dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout, Becks,” he insists with a measly shrug of his shoulders, but he tries to act like I can’t hear the slight snicker in his voice, or see the red appearing in his cheeks.

“Fine, I give up . . We should get cracking on those testimonies already, seeing as now I’m done waiting on you.”

“Agreed. ‘m gonna go grab a cuppa, and ‘ll meet you in me office. ‘Kay?” Harry responds, standing to his feet, and turning around to face me. The smile falling into my cheeks is instantaneous at the mere sight of him, making me realize that I somehow missed him for the last three hours he was in his meeting. Well, I wouldn’t be wrong to say that I’m most definitely spoiled getting to work with my boyfriend for nearly every second for five days a week. My dream at last came true. “Wait, I thought you were gettin’ sick o’ me earlier? ‘sn’t that right, bug?” he poses with a perfect raise of his eyebrows, taking a step towards me.

“I uh, dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Yer a bloody terrible liar, still dunno why ya think I can’t sniff ‘em out on you,” he smirks, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he taps my nose. The tall white roses on his baby pink slacks billow with every step of his, only worsening my giggle. “Becks, Becks, Becks,” he tuts with a shake of his growing curls. My lips sparking with a happy nervousness bring out the dimples in his cheeks.

“What, Harold?”

“Dunno how many times ‘ve told ya not t’ call me that,” he exhales with a wag of his finger, only a few steps between myself and the door now.

“But Rory gets to call you that!”

“He doesn’t get t’ call me anythin’, bug. Rory doesn’t listen t’ a fookin’ word I say, so he’s not goin’ t’ start callin’ me by me real name fer tha first time in eight years, I don’t think,” he chuckles, and I let an eye roll slip, but not quick enough. “Ya betta watch it now, and my bloody God, Rebecca Holte, you best put that pout away befo’ I-.”

“Before you what, Harry?” I tease with a cock of my head.

“Y’know yer pushin’ me buttons, right? Oh wait, yer fully aware o’ that, arentcha, Becks? I can see tha look on yer face right now, y’know yer diggin’ yerself a hole here, babe,” Harry tuts, continuing to wag that finger at me until my back meets the door and he lays his hands above my head to steady himself. “And, t’ answer yer question - reckon ya won’t get any kisses fer tha rest o’ tha day if yer gonna be a brat,” he shrugs with full composure, sliding a hand to my back that he presses on to come closer to him. “Make this one last,” he whispers, leaving a kiss on my forehead before opening the door.

“Harry!” I exclaim, whirling around to find him already escaping down the hallway.

His hearty laugh wanders down to grace my ears, and then, he turns around with that smart grin on his face, “‘m jus’ grabbin’ a new cup o’ coffee, ‘ll meet you in me office, love,” he calls back ever so innocently, almost running into one of Asher’s blokes from IT. Groaning, I imitate his typical stance of leaning against the doorway with crossed arms, watching his figure become all the smaller as he stops to talk with Amelia and then to Jennings with an always cheerful smile.

At times, it still boggles me how different things are, although it’s difficult to remember how things were before. How they were when my view every day was this very hallway from my measly desk sat at the end of it. It makes it all the harder to remember how much I longed for, how it tore me apart, and not just that, but how different of a person he was. I wasn’t the same either - I started off cold and brash with him, as did he, and I could never entertain the thought of what things would be like if he hadn’t warmed up to me, as well.

Memories flash in front of me as the sofa molds to my body, like all of the other times, followed by the thud of my heels falling to the floor. With a blink, I’m propelled back to the days when I’d be scared to set foot in this office, his. Now, I can’t imagine feeling anything other than safe to be in here. Despite the traumas that took place inside of these four walls, my lips curl up at the thought of the lovely things that were born in here as well. The hidden kisses. The beginning of our friendship. Our first hug. My beginnings as a lawyer, and so much more that warms me from the inside.

My, all of the firsts that we have had.

Pulling my cardigan around me tighter, I round a corner and then another, hoping I’m at least going in the right direction. The images keep flashing before my eyes - the silence that fell over the room when he entered it, a completely different person than the one that I know. A pride that I want to deny and forget still clings to my body and every thought that I have. So often, I find myself hating him, and yet I couldn’t have been more proud sitting in that room and watching him do what he does best, argue.

Coming to a halt, I look around for a sign to tell me where I’m going, in the hopes that the front doors are somewhere near. Shaking my head, I take another left on a whim, and regret it within a matter of moments.

“Holte?” comes a voice from ahead of me. Glancing up, I freeze in my place before my feet try to scurry away. “What tha bloody hell are you doin’ here, and where are you goin’ so fast?” they say, almost making a sound. A laugh, perhaps?

“I was just uh, meeting a friend.”

“Since when do friends meet at a courthouse?” he asks with skewed eyebrows, his steps ending in front of me. His hand full of rings cards through his long curls, and my, they only look better up close.

“My friend . . works here.”

“Oh ‘s that so? What department do they work in?” he continues, the dimples slowly finding their place in his cheeks, especially as the words fleet me. “Yer lyin’ t’ me arentcha, Holte?”

“Fine, I wanted to come and watch you argue your case, since you were making a big deal out of how important it is,” I sigh, turning around and placing my back to him.

“Hey, you. Wait!” he calls, and I soon feel his rings against the flesh of my bicep. “What’s tha rush?” he titters, and when I turn around, this all only gets all the more weird.

“What, is it a crime to come and watch you in action?”

“No, so why’re you actin’ like yer doin’ sumthin’ yer not s’posed t’ do?” he smirks. “Huh, Holte?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Styles,” I sigh, wishing I could sneak a look at his fingers gentle around my arm to prove that it’s real, but . . that would give it away and perhaps make him stop. That’s the last thing I want, even though two seconds ago, I thought that running into him here was the last thing I wanted. Now, I’m not so sure. I should have known that this would happen, though. “You were great, you know,” I say slowly, a smile mirrored on his reddening face.

“Thank you,” he responds quietly, looking away and regrettably, letting his hand fall from my arm. “I didn’t know you were there . . watchin’ me.”

“I wasn’t planning on it . . but I’m glad that I came and spent my lunch break watching you.”

“Me too,” he replies softly, his bottom lip escaping to between his teeth.

“Well, good luck and I’ll see you at work, I guess.”

“Ya, you too, Holte. Thanks,” Harry says, and I find it painful to walk away from him now, and awkward. Sighing, I find a hallway in each direction when I reach the corner, and take one at random.

“Tha main entrance ‘s tha other direction, Holte,” Harry giggles, and I stop in my tracks, hearing his familiar Saint Laurent boots click-clack on the tiled floor. “Here, I was jus’ goin’ t’ lunch, I can show you tha way.”

“No, I’m okay.”

“No, please. Let me,” he insists, and when I steal a glance at him he’s pushing back the dark sleeve of his smooth black blazer to look at his watch. I’m left wondering which was more expensive, the suit or the watch. “I was jus’ poppin’ ova t’ a restaurant down tha street fer lunch, if ya’d like t’ join me, yer welcome t’.”

Gulping, I quickly look away and to the ground where he can’t see my eyes threaten to pop out of my skull. Did he really just ask me to get lunch with him? What should I say? Wouldn’t it be awkward? What would we even talk about? I should say no, he’s probably just being nice.

“I um . . “

“‘ll take that as a yes then,” he pipes up eagerly, accompanied by the sound of his booming steps. “Hurry up, Holte, time’s a tickin.’ I reckon this ‘s tha only time you’ve been in these walls, so ‘ll be kind enough t’ show ya t’ tha front doors, even tho’ me car ‘s on tha otha side.”

Because of course he would say that, Mr. Hotshot Lawyer who is cocky, annoying, frustrating, full of himself, bossy, rude-

“Thank you,” I say, interrupting my thoughts and taking a plunge, right into those deep green eyes that land on me, and to my surprise, with a smile.

“Welcome, Holte.”

“Thank you,” he says with a rose colored smile to the server, plucking the black book from the middle of the table before I could even think to grab it first. With a quiet sigh, I watch him fish out his wallet and slide a sleek credit card out from a sleeve, stuffing it into the small pocket inside the book, without even a glance inside. “What’s yer problem?” he huffs, chewing on the mint-flavored toothpick and pointing his eyes at me. His eyebrows do all of the talking that stops me from refusing.

“You don’t have to pay for me, I can pay for my own meal,” I insist firmly, touching my wallet that I had pulled out and placed next to my dwindling glass of water.

“I know that,” he begins with strength in his voice, and I worry that I just offended him. I’m afraid it could erase the memorable first meal we just had together of brunch, talking about his case and actually finding out things that he likes and enjoys. “But I would like t’ treat you, and I did invite you after all,” he finishes, smiling briefly when the server returns the book. Sliding out his credit card, he replaces it in his wallet and instead grabs a few bills that he tucks into the black book. “Goin’ t’ argue with me some mo’, are we?”

“No.”

“Good choice,” Harry replies, and when he meets my eyes across the round wooden table, I think that I may see him smile at me.

“But-.”

“And what tha bloody hell d’ya want now?” he grins, propping his chin on his upheld fist, his cheeks round from his smile.

“Maybe I wanted to pay for your meal too.”

“You can tha next time, love. Alright?” he replies softly. When he tears his eyes away to glance at his dinging phone, something stirs inside of me and I wish I could make him look at me like that again. I wish I could create another moment where it feels like he actually likes me.

“On one condition.”

“What’s that, love?” he asks with that breathy laugh of his I’ve only heard a few times now, and never has it been because of me.

“You go back to calling me Becks . . no more ‘Holte,’” I announce slowly and carefully, because if I said them too fast or not just right, I’m afraid that they may break altogether and ruin it. One corner of his mouth reaches higher up his cheek, and I think that for the first time, I’ve made him smile all on my own. “I like it when you call me that.”

“I like it too, darlin’. Reckon ya could be a good lawyer, y’know, with that convincin’ face o’ yers, yer hard t’ say no t’,” he answers, standing to his feet and sliding on his coat, waiting for me to do the same. Does that mean my puppy dog eyes worked on him, fucking finally?

“Thank you, Mr. Styles.”

“Yer not allowed t’ call me that anymo’ then,” Harry says, looking back over his shoulder at me, a few steps ahead of me now.

“Okay,” I agree softly, and the breath hitches in my throat when his eyebrows raise at me with the smallest of smirks. “Harry.”

“Good, I like tha sound o’ that betta.”

“Me too,” I echo ever so quietly, stepping out into the fall air as he holds the door open for me, dreading the strange friendship of ours that will end in the next few moments. A friendship that I wish could live within the walls of the firm, and inside of my heart as something more.

“Ya, that all sounds great. I can’t wait fer this weekend . . Ya, ‘ll ask her soon and let y’know . . Alright, bye,” I hear from down the hall in a happy lilt. Within moments, the smile I hear in his voice appears before my eyes, and somehow only grows brighter.

“What are you smiling about? Oh, and what’s this you’re going to ask me?”

“I neva said I had sumthin’ t’ ask you,” he shrugs with a rosiness to his round cheeks, gliding into his office with his bottom lip held between his teeth.

“Don’t be rude.”

“‘m not,” he giggles softly, stopping at his desk to grab his dark gray Macbook.

“You don’t have me convinced, Mr. Styles,” I sigh, letting my chin fall into my hand as I open up my Google Docs.

“Ah, I rememba when ya used t’ call me that, ‘s been awhile.”

“You can say that again, and God, don’t get too big of a head about it,” I huff with an ironic laugh, feeling myself pulled down memory lane regrettably. “I was just thinking about that, and how much things have changed.”

“Too true,” Harry hums, getting comfy beside me on the sofa while his Macbook blankets his face in a soft glow. “You were Holte and I was Mr. Styles or sir sumtimes. Talk ‘bout a bloody blast from tha past,” he tsks and I find myself nodding along with him. Glancing over to him, my eyebrows fall as my cheeks deceive me with a balmy warmth filling them.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” I wheeze, my fingers drifting to my hair nervously. After all of this time, he can still make me blush like there’s no tomorrow.

“What, I can’t admire me pretty girlfriend?” he scoffs with a shake of his head, booping my nose with his finger. Sometimes, I really still can’t believe that I get to be called that by him.

“I guess you can.”

“Reckon ya should be nicer t’ yer boss, miss. ‘m tha person who signs yer checks,” he tuts while I admire the beauty of his side profile, still trying to get used to how he looks without a beard. Give him back his long hair and it would be like the beginning all over again, although I’m not sure why I keep thinking back to then. I’m not even positive if it’s a good or bad nostalgia.

“Hey!”

“Hey!” he returns in a high pitched voice, imitating me, I suppose. His bubbly laugh soon follows and so do those olive greens that return to me, quite possibly my favourite color in all of existence. “Look at us, bug, back where it all started, aren’t we?” he coos, pulling me into his side and pressing his lips to my head in a loud smooch.

“Mmmhmm, better than ever.”

“Yes, we are. A new beginnin’ o’ sorts, Becks. I dunno how I got so lucky with you,” he winks and thumbs at my chin, his lips only a breath away.

“I think I’m the lucky one.”

“No, that’s me,” he argues with his trademark breathy laugh, and before I get two words out, my comeback is smothered with a kiss. I really did get lucky, luckier than little old me ever thought I would, or could.

God, I’m so proud of her - the old Becks. Him, too. The new us, and especially the old us. We earned this.

“Woman, I swear t’ bloody God if ya send me one mo’ bleedin’ photo o’ a puppy ‘stead o’ writin’ yer brief, imma boot you outta me office and yer not allowed back.”

“Harry!” I scoff after a sound of disbelief, my eyes tearing away from the Google search and to him. His chin is held in his palm while he taps his temple with his pointer finger, eyebrows raised in a silent question at me. “You wouldn’t!”

“Oh, you wanna try me, Holte?” he returns with his eyes narrowed at me, giving me a nod.

Huffing, I look away and back to my laptop, to a screen filled with photos of golden retriever puppies. “Y’know, you’ll seal yer fate if ya roll those pretty eyes at me.”

“I won’t,” I grumble softly, closing out of the tab sadly.

“Good girl,” he hums, tapping the corner of my laptop from above. Looking up, his green eyes draw me over, but I don’t let them pull me in. “Good girl listenin’ t’ yer boss, bug,” he finishes with a wink.

“Don’t call me that, you know I don’t like it,” I retort curtly, switching tabs to my brief where the cursor stares back at me, daring me to try my hand at it.

“But ’s cute, brings back good memories. I like tha name, ’s yer last name. Rebecca Holte,” he teases, nosing at my cheek that grows warmer with every word he speaks.

“For you it does, not me, Harry,” I almost snap, closing the laptop with a sudden clap! He clears his throat and the sound is followed by that of his velvet black Chelsea boots backing up. Spiegel im Spiegel floats from his iMac across the room, a black folder sitting in front of it with now forgotten documents.

“‘m sorry, Becks, it wasn’t tha best o’ times fer me either . . ,” Harry says softly. I wouldn’t have to even look and I know that his lip is held between his teeth like a vice. At my eye level, he twirls a red gemstone ring around a finger, much like I do when something is itching at my insides annoyingly.

“It was the best of times and the worst of times, somewhat minus the best part,” I mumble, picking at the Coldplay sticker already peeling from the lilac case of my laptop.

“Hey, it wasn’t all that bad when ya think o’ tha good parts, babe. Tacos at Pedro’s, stayin’ late drinkin’ wine coolers togetha, tha Halloween party, all o’ our games o’ Scrabble, takin’ you t’ that charity ball with the masquerade theme, and meeting me best friend in tha whole entire world.”

“You know how to work the floor, you know that?” I say gently, smoothing down the sticker with the back of my fingernail.

“Looks like we need anotha night at mine, paintin’ our nails togetha,” he pipes up, but when I remain silent, he returns to my comment that he so easily ignored. “Well yes, yer datin’ a lawyer here, bug. That’s how I swept you off yer feet, dontcha rememba?”

“I dunno about that,” I giggle, ever so slightly, distracted by his hands that come into view and his rings that I bother with. At last, I find those green eyes waiting for me, just as they always do.

“Hey, why tha long face, my love?” he coos sadly, eyebrows bent beneath the weight of his words. “‘m sorry t’ upset you, ‘m not gonna kick you outta me office, y’know I couldn’t handle you bein’ gone eitha.”

“I know,” I titter softly, sliding off his silver ring dotted with little figures and placing it on my thumb where it still hangs loose.

“I like tha name, maybe even fer a boy one day . . Holte,” he muses happily, but I can’t find any words that I’d be willing to say. Instead, I pry the jewelry from my hand and swiftly glide it back onto his. “Altho’ I reckon I treated you like shit when I called you that.”

“Just a bit.”

“‘m sorry t’ drudge tha memory up like I did,” he whispers, only feeding the awkward tension waiting in the air. His lanky figure leaves its place in front of me, reminding me of the money tree sitting across me by the window, an ironic gift from Myles last month. “Can I help you with yer brief, li’l one?” Harry continues, the cushion underneath me dipping with his weight. I nod before I even feel his hand squeeze my adjacent shoulder and pull me into his side with a lasting kiss to my forehead. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” I echo, tipping my head to his shoulder as he lifts the closed laptop from my lap. Laying back, he props it on his spread lap as I snuggle into his side.

“I like what ya have so far, I think yer inna good spot. How ‘bout this, next we . . . . ,” Harry says after reading the document, but with his greens back in sight and that dimple threatening to pop loose, I find it hard to listen to a word he says while staring up at him. My boyfriend. Can you believe it, Becky? “You even listenin’ t’ me there?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to when you’re so cute.”

“Bloody hell,” he chuckles with rosy cheeks, the dimples loud and proud at the helm of his smile. “Alright, let’s take a break from goo-goo-gaga land for a few, Ms. Holte, and work on yer brief fer yer case that’s bein’ heard next week. Alright?”

��Alright,” I sigh with a slight pout that he sees instantaneously with a shake of his head.

“Shall I entice you? Dunno why I should hafta, but I guess we all need a li’l bit o’ bribery e’ry now and then,” he smirks, finishing his words with a wink. “My Becks likes bribes.”

“Oh and what, you don’t, Ha-,” the giggle flows from my lips, and is yanked in by his that silence my words. Sometimes, I really do wish that I could tell The Old Me about how good it gets, and to hold on, because it may be a bumpy ride, Old Becky, but it’s going to all pay off in the end.

“Bloody hell, no wonder ya’ve had t’ pee ten times t’day. Chill on tha caffeine, would ya?” somebody gripes from behind me, but it falls away when their arms come around my middle, soon nosing at my neck.

“Hey, I gave into coffee long ago. It owns me by now,” I return, closing the top to the Keurig. After pressing a few buttons, the machine begins to whir and spit out the dark liquid. My neck tickles from his warm breaths behind me, and the feeling of his lips.

“Becks?”

“Yeah, Harry?” I respond, my hands finding their way to surround his that lay clasped over my belly. The tip of his middle finger ghosts over my several inch scar, making me wonder when he had memorized it in his mind.

“My mum ‘s comin’ t’ visit this weekend, t’ see Gemma and tha kids, and me. She’s comin’ over t’ mine Saturday mornin’ fer brekky . . and I was uh, wonderin’ if ya’d like t’ join us? If ya’d like t’ meet me mum at last? She hasn’t stopped askin’ t’ meet you fer tha last two months.” the words leave his lips in an announcement, taking away all else and no longer do I feel his hands on my stomach or hear the churning of the coffee. Turning around, his dimples live far away and so does his bottom lip that’s trapped between his teeth, telling me that I’m not the only one being consumed by my nervousness. “I reckon she’s mo’ excited t’ see you than she ‘s t’ see me,” Harry chuckles but the light on his lips sputters out when I tear my eyes away from his hopeful ones.

“Harry, I . . “

“What ‘s it, Becks?” he whispers. My eyes close when he noses against my cheek, his next words crawling along my neck. “Y’know she’ll love you, ‘ssa given, babe.”

“How can she love me when she hasn’t even met me?”

“‘Cuz yer so lovable, that’s why,” he insists from below my ear, mouthing at the hollow that lives there. “Why’re ya so nervous, babe? I reckon this ‘s a piece o’ cake compared t’ how I met yer bloody parents, in hospitals o’ all places.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t complain,” I respond quietly, but that’s all that I can think of when we pull apart at the sound of a voice from behind the break room door. Clearing my throat, I turn back to my mug of coffee where the last few drops plop into the steaming liquid.

“Promise you it’ll be okay. There’s nuthin’ t’ be nervous ‘bout, she’s tha sweetest woman ‘ve ever met- well, besides you that ‘s,” Harry says quietly, eyes wandering between our guest and me. “‘s jus’ brekky and if ya like, dinner at me sista’s that night too.”

“Two in one?” I exclaim, setting down my coffee and turning to face him where he leans against the counter. The smirk painted across his face spreads to his shoulders that he shrugs ever so smugly. “God, Harry, bombard me much?” I sigh sarcastically with a shake of my head, turning away from him and watching how the coffee does somersaults when I pour creamer into it.

“Well? Ya aren’t jus’ gonna leave me hangin’ there, Becks, are you?” he plods on, pulling at the cuff of my blazer impatiently while one of the blokes from IT rummages through the refrigerator.

“I dunno, Harry, meeting two family members in one day is a lot to ask of me,” I tut jokingly with my lips pressed into an uncertain line. The disappointment on his face melts away when I find his greens with my own again. “Of course I’ll meet your mum, but I’m supposed to have dinner with Skye and her parents Saturday night, so I can’t make it to your sister’s, I’m sorry. It seems to be a popular weekend for parents to come into town.”

“Oh, I rememba you mentionin’ that now. ‘m sorry, I forgot. No worries on meetin’ me sista, she lives in town y’know, so we’ll jus’ find anotha day,” he agrees in a soft voice, brushing it off expertly. “Yer not gettin’ outta that one that easily, Becks,” he teases, pointing a finger at me that I push away.

“If you meet Skye’s mum, I’ll meet your sister. Sound like a deal?”

“Skye’s mum?” he questions, crossing his arms over his chest with knotted brows. I almost giggle at the confusion swept over his face until the bulging of his muscles beneath the arms of his button up pulls me in and far away. Once again, this man really does know what he’s doing to me, even when he’s not exactly aware of it.

“Yes,” I exhale, dragging my eyes back to my tan colored coffee. Finished with the creamer, it closes with an excited snap! “I was nervous for you to meet my mum, although I never thought it’d happen, but I’m more about you meeting Eliza, Skye’s mum. She’s more of a mum to me than mine ever was, always letting me sleep over when things got bad with mine, and Robbie too. I’d really like for you to meet her, maybe lunch or something while she’s in town the next few days.”

His eyes are soft and light dances within them, just for me. “‘Course, bug, ‘d love t’ meet her. She sounds lovely, and so would lunch with her and Skye. Altho’ ‘m not sure how somebody who birthed Skye could be lovely,” he jokes and quickly laughs when my jaw slackens. “‘m bloody jokin’ and whateva ya do, don’t tell her I said that,” he chuckles, enjoying this far too much than he should be.

“You’re really going to be in for it with Skye now,” I giggle with a dismissive shake of my head as I lift the mug to my lips.

“What’s new?” he asks with his hands held out in front of him, leaving my side to grab a Styles and Lawson mug from the cabinet, identical to my own. “I thought you and Rose didn’t like our mugs, so why d’ya keep usin’ ‘em, hmm?”

“I dunno, they have . . good handles.”

“Sureeeee, Becks,” he tuts as the K-Cup falls into the holder with a signifying pop! “So, Saturday then?” he says nonchalantly while placing the mug under the impending stream of caffeine. He continues his trained practice of his voice dipping when the bloke gets too close to us- Brian, I think it is, I can’t remember. He really does know what he’s doing, this man of mine.

My name on his lips rouses me from my overactive thoughts and pulls my eyes over to his and his already five o’clock shadow, distracting me from the clang! of the door closing. “What should I wear?” I wonder aloud with placid lips that only move to imitate the emotion yanking his towards the heavens.

“You’ll look gorgeous in absolutely anythin’, bug, and ‘s jus’ brekky. Please, ya don’t hafta worry ‘bout meetin’ her, she’s so easy t’ get on with. ‘s like she already knows you from everythin’ ‘ve told her ‘bout you over tha years.”

“Wow, no pressure or anything,” I exhale loudly, glad to have the room back to ourselves, and for the way his arms lull the monsters away. “Do I even want to know what you’ve told her?”

“I dunno, sumthin’ along tha lines o’ how ‘m in love with this girl, and have been fer awhile now,” he coos into my ear, zings sent down my spine when his lips brush my earlobe. The next words stop in their tracks on my tongue and my arms stop halfway to wrapping around him.

“Wait,” I begin lightly, taking a step back and wishing I could in this conversation. “You’re in love with me?” I say tentatively, the front of his blazer grounding me to this moment when my fingers grab onto it.

“I thought that you knew . . that it went without sayin’,” he giggles with cheeks resembling apples, both by shape and color. “I couldn’t be anythin’ other than that, Becks.”

“Huh,” I hum absently, admiring the threads of each white flower that climb from the sides of his slacks and all the way up to his lapels between my fingers.

I think I lose my grasp on them when his lips attach themselves to my forehead, and I just hope that he can’t feel the racing of my pulse all the way up there. That may not be possible, but to feel the way his lips curl against my skin is, and a whisper of a laugh.

“Reckon ‘s time we have a li’l argument over who’s been in love with tha other fer longer, innit?” Harry begins before a kiss brings an end to his words, their sound whisked away by a long silence that I fear. “Ya don’t hafta say it back y’know, I won’t-.”

“It’s not you,” I interrupt, my fear quickly being allotted to the same emotion that wipes his face clean. “The winner, I mean. I’ve been in love with you far longer, that’s for sure.”

“Can ya maybe not gi’mme a bloody heart attack there?” he giggles, clutching at his chest.

“What, I rarely get the chance to one up you, so I have to take it!” I exclaim and my eyes grow wide when I see the look on his face. One of his signature looks. A squeal tickles the air when he lifts me off of my feet and into the air. “Harry Styles!”

“What, Rebecca Ann?” he titters after a few spins, soon setting me down on my feet. My lips have only parted when he silences them with his, and I wonder how I went from dreaming a dream that I knew could never exist and now, getting to live it every second of every day.

“I think I fell in love with you when I saw you get off that lift,” I begin, looking away shyly, but he doesn’t let me get away with it, lifting my chin with his finger. He may let me get away with loads of shit, but no, not this time. “That night in Madley, at the hospital . . . but I think I had fallen in love with you a little bit loads of other times before, and not known it.”

“I swear, woman, tha amount o’ times ya make me fall fer you all over ‘gain,” Harry wheezes with damp eyes, shaking his head with the largest contradicting smile. “C’mere, my love . . Bloody hell, I think ya win this one, ‘cuz I can’t even rememba tha moment I fell fer you, ‘s been so many times fer me as well. Reckon I prolly told me mum each time they happened too.”

“Saturday should be fun then,” I joke from the corner of his neck, relaxing with my exhale against him.

“Yes, it shall. Until then, let’s get goin.’”

“What, where?” I giggle, finding the glitter in his eye that I have a hard time remembering them being without.

“‘s Tuesday, silly,” he titters with dimples shining, and face skewed into a confused question. “Let’s go get our tacos. ‘ll even buy ya extra churros.”

“That’s the only reason I’m going,” I joke, feeling him squeeze my hand. When I look over to him, I find those warm greens painting their happiness all over me.

“Don’t be bloody rude,” he chuckles with a shake of his head, holding the door open for me.

Although this impromptu ‘meeting the parents’ gig is eating away at my nerves, I can’t help but grow in excitement at the idea of meeting the very person I have to thank for him.

My God, I have my whole world to thank her for.

We had fallen into our own routine at work and quickly, but that was due to ‘push came to shove’ and there was no real way around it. Much to my mortification, Harry had told me that while in the hospital Myles had informed the rest of the legal team at the firm that we were dating, and so they knew. There wasn’t any way around it really, trying to explain why Harry was also gone for the same length I was from work, and suddenly. Regardless, Harry and I still avoided acting like we were dating, and at times I let it get to me, dwelling over the fact that everybody knew our secret. It was fun at first to keep, but it grew out of hand swiftly. It frustrated me often and I think it did the same for Harry, refraining from hugging when a team meeting went well or we won a case. The rules of the courtroom were far stricter, but it still upset me at times.

Like now, seeing how Amelia’s substitute was flirting it up with Harry, unbeknownst to him. It’s not like I could exactly walk up to them and tell her to stop, although it bothers me how her flirting goes through one of his ears and out the other while he shows her how to do something at the front desk.

“Fuck me,” I groan, giving up on waiting for him and going ahead with what I was doing. Blinking hard and filling my lungs with air, my opal necklace dances below my collarbones with every step.

I find that I have the room to myself, and as the copier beeps with each button that I press, I hum a song to myself. The documents sitting in my hands are whisked away by the large machine, a newer and larger one since my first time here. Thank God, because that thing was always having problems.

“I think somebody’s got a little crush on our boss out there,” somebody snickers from the doorway. My eyes flit over to find Jennings waltzing into the copier room, his horn rims perched on his long nose. Awkwardly, I look away and answer with a soft ‘mmhmm.’ I occupy myself with watching the machine spit out new sheets onto its bottom tray. “I hope you’re not too jealous,” he jokes with a loud laugh, but I don’t echo it. Why would I? Could you bring up anything more awkward or inappropriate to say to me, Jennings?

“I’m fine,” I answer gently, picking up the stack after the whirring sound finishes. Stepping to the side, I tap the stack against the black counter and slide open a drawer.

“Figure I owe you a congrats on your Employee of the Month recognition, that’s a rather big deal,” he continues, meandering through the wire shelves of supplies across the room from me.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I return with emphasis in my voice, feeling out the lack of compassion in his. Clearing my throat, I dig around in the plastic tray set in the drawer until I grab a few large binder clips.

“I’ve worked here for years, and haven’t had the luck of getting it since they started it this year,” he remarks, shaking a box of pens that he plucked from the shelf.

“It’s only April, I’m sure you’ll have your chance,” I say slowly, separating my piles and tapping them against the counter until they’re neat and tidy.

“I dunno about that, I haven’t even made bloody partner yet here. You’ll probably make it before me, seeing as how you have an in with the boss,” Jennings nearly retorts, and I gulp hard, suddenly reminded of the iffy feeling I’ve always had about him. I can’t place the blame on myself though, because he’s given me good reason for it, and I hope that he isn’t about to give me more. “It’s a shame you lost your case last week though, I hope Harry wasn’t too upset with you, but I’m sure he couldn’t be mad at his little girlfriend. He would’ve been mad at Rose, or even me, but no, not you. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” I begin, the papers threatened between my suddenly clammy fingers.

“Excuse me? I’d say it is, I don’t want you giving the firm a bad name now, but it looks like your boyfriend can’t save you from everything.”

“What are you implying?” I demand curtly, turning around swiftly just in time to watch him slip a Macbook charger into his pocket.

“I thought you were supposed to be a brilliant lawyer from what I hear, Becky, so I’ll leave that one up to you, wouldn’t you say?” Jennings poses with a dark glint in his eye, raising one thick eyebrow at me. “Oh wait, maybe I’ll give you a little help, seeing as how you couldn’t even win the case of that ex-wife racking up debt in her ex-husband’s name . . How do I say it? Well, I find it rather unfair the special treatment you receive, wouldn’t you agree? No, I guess you wouldn’t, would you?” he snickers, the swing and fall of his shoulders and eyebrows being more than enough for me to see.

Turning back around, I hastily fasten the clips onto the stacks of documents for Harry’s new case, and well, mine too, much to somebody’s dissatisfaction. Excerpts from legal books, testimonies, and rough drafts of the argument. The tapping of a pen against the wire shelf gnaws at my ears, and accelerates the time bomb inside of me.

“I don’t receive any special treatment, because of Harry or from him,” I mutter through gritted teeth, gathering the stacks all into one final pile. “I’d say that you’re being out of line and that you need to stop while you’re ahead.”

“Or what, you’ll tell your big, bad, boss boyfriend? Nobody likes snitches, you should know that. Plus, I’m his friend and I’ve known him longer than you, so who would he believe?” he chuckles darkly, igniting the hairs on the back of my neck with his impending footsteps. “Don’t deny it, you do receive special treatment. You get out of meetings and trainings even, the firm pays for your lunch several times a week I’m sure, you get overtime when you want it, you got a free thousand-dollar laptop again, and I’m sure your reviews will come out just sparkling. Not to mention, still having a job after being gone all that time after your accident. Did I miss anything there, Becky?” he finishes, his snarky words slithering along my back and into my ears where his breath wafts over me.

“‘s everythin’ alright in here?” comes a voice from out of the blue. The three-level paper organizer sat in front of me blurs as my eyes widen. The ball in my throat is met with an unsuccessful gulp when I feel a hand on my arm. I shrink away from the touch before he can squeeze it.

“Oh yes, I was just congratulating Becky on her Employee of the Month recognition. She deserves it,” Jennings answers for us, voice boisterous with faux cheer.

“Becks?” Harry murmurs, cautiously touching my arm again and this time, I don’t run away from his touch. “Alright?” he whispers questioningly, the gentleness of his voice wills my eyes over to him. There’s a pang in my gut when I watch the emotion mirrored on his face - alarmed with fear and confusion. “Hey, what’s tha matter?” he probes, the warmth of his rings seeping through the thin fabric of my long sleeved blouse.

“H-He . . was saying this stuff to me- awful stuff, and . . ,” I trail off quietly, my eyes flitting to the sandy brown hair I see from behind Harry, watching and listening as well.

“What tha hell did ya say t’ her, Pete?” Harry questions, turning to face his colleague as he holds my elbow firmly.

“Nothing,” he almost laughs, and then he makes a sound as if something came to mind. “Okay, okay. I guess I upset her when I told her that I saw her nick one of the Macbook chargers the other day. I approached the subject gently, just letting her know that they’re eighty bucks a pop, and she can only have one here at-.”

“What, I did not! You’re the one who just stuffed one down your pants, you liar!” I scoff, spinning to face them both. “You did it when you were accusing me of getting special treatment from Harry!” I exclaim with my voice breaking in mid-sentence, the explanation soon growing wet.

“What?!” Harry breathes, shock coating his every syllable. “Pete, what in tha bloody fuck ‘s tha matter with you? Becks would never steal and- wait, yer accusin’ her o’ gettin’ treated special jus’ ‘cuz she’s datin’ me? Have ya fell off yer fookin’ rocker, mate? I don’t treat Myles any bleedin’ different fer bein’ me best friend all me life, I treat e’rybody here tha fookin’ same, if ya hadn’t noticed. I reckon ‘s none o’ yer damn business how I mentor her, and don’t forget who fookin’ hired you as well, mate, and who can fire you.”

“I just dunno why I’ve been here for how many bloody years as only a senior associate, mind you, and in walks her and-.”

“I don’t care what yer fookin’ problem ‘s, Pete, but maybe I would’ve if ya’d bloody brought it t’ me instead o’ takin’ it out on her. ‘m yer boss, mate, I coulda helped you, so what good was it t’ cuss her out ‘cuz ya feel like shit?” Harry interrupts defensively, and with a blink, I see the redness rising in their faces.

“Harry, please, let’s just go. I’m fine,” I beg, taking his hand and pulling on it. He doesn’t move an inch, and neither do his eyes from Jennings.

“I tried, if you hadn’t noticed, but you were always too fucking busy for me, weren’t you? ‘Cause apparently, the only people who can get your bleeding attention as of late are those who are sucking your prick,” Jennings shrugs matter of factly. The surprise morphing my features and shaking my body is nothing compared to the shift in Harry’s demeanor.

“Harry,” I begin when his fingers slip from mine. ��No, don’t!” I exclaim, stepping forward and grabbing onto his arm, but my fingers only grasp at air.

“A li’l fookin’ jealous, are we? Would ya rather it be you suckin’ me dick?” he jests at Jennings who steps closer to him.

“Jealous of that? Fucking, hell no. I can’t believe you even call her a lawyer,” Jennings retorts, pushing his glasses off his nose and into his hair. “I see now why you hired her, she must be pretty fucking good at giving head and-.”

“Harry!” I almost shout, wanting to step forward and instead backing up when I watch his fist fly. A wrenched sound escapes my lips when I see it connect with Jennings’ face, but it shrinks in comparison to the tear that splits my heart when Harry’s knocked back by Jennings’ swing. “Stop it! Now!” I nearly scream through a curtain of tears, my throat burning. Only then, does Harry lift his head of messy curls to look at me, wiping his fist against his nose that comes back red.

Muttered curses fall from Jennings as he leaves hastily clutching his cheek, and I remain frozen until I see the blood gush from his nose.

“You idiot! What were you thinking?” I cry, rushing forward and surrounding his face with my hands.

“What was I thinkin’? I was thinkin’ I was standin’ up fer you, I wasn’t gonna let him say one mo’ nasty word ‘bout you, Becks. I could do with a thank you, y’know,” he sighs, eyeing the scarlet plummeting to the marbled floor with silent plops.

“Harry,” I sob with a dismissive shake of my head, brushing back his hair to find the shock of red skin surrounding his nose below his eye.

“Oh, baby, ‘m so sorry,” he huffs, grabbing a handful of tissues from a shelf and shoving them against his nose. At last, he yanks me into his arms and there I shed my tears into his cream button down that’s already marred by his sudden bloody nose. “I didn’t mean t’ frighten you, it jus’ happened so fast . . But I don’t regret it, standin’ up fer you . . I can’t believe tha mouth on him . . ‘m so sorry he said those things t’ you, none o’ them are true, I hope y’know.”

Sniffling, I move away and find his eyes that beg for me, “Don’t let what he said get t’ you fer one second, e’rythin’ he said was lies, Becks. Every li’l thing, I promise you that,” he says firmly, pulling away a strand of hair that sticks to my cheek slick with tears. “‘d never let sumbody hurt you like that . . never ever.”

“I haven’t even sucked your dick yet,” I giggle from beneath him, and then, can I start to relax when his giggle graces the air.

“Ya, ‘d rather we keep that info’ t’ ourselves, wouldn’t you?” he snickers with that breathy laugh I love so dearly. “Don’t need tha whole bloody firm knowin’ I haven’t even gotten me dicked properly sucked yet.”

“Hey!” I shoot back, slapping at his chest ever so faintly.

“‘m kiddin’, bug. Y’know I don’t care it hasn’t happened yet, e’rythin’ in good time,” he insists, pulling me back against his front. I relent, but remain with my eyes pointed skywards. “I mean it, don’t worry yer pretty li’l head ‘bout inconsequential shit like that, or what he said.”

“You’re still an idiot,” I sigh, caressing his cheek that tickles my hand with its stubble.

“Why, ‘cuz ‘ll have a bruised up face fer our lunch with Skye and her mum t’day, or fer brekky with mine?” he jokes with a grin half hidden by his handful of Kleenex.

“Yes, and no. Wait- you will. Harry!” I whine, only making him laugh against my hair when he kisses the top of my head. “No, you idiot, you’re not going to get it to stop bleeding like that. Sit down.”

“Yes, m’am. I always knew I had a thing fer in charge women,” he snickers with a click of his tongue, stealing a kiss from my cheek before dragging over a chair against the wall.

“Okay, give me the tissues. Thanks, now- No, you’ll only swallow blood that way. What, are you stupid?” I instruct, leaving him one to manage the nosebleed by himself as I fold up the rest. “Here, you need to hold them against your nose and with your other hand, pinch the bridge of your nose as you look down. Do that for, I dunno, five or ten minutes until it stops bleeding. Let me go and get you some ice for that shiner of yours.”

“‘m fine, Becks. Really. All I want ‘s fer you t’ stay,” he says, grabbing hold of my hand when I turn away to leave. His expressive eyebrows near his hairline when he raises them at me in a near dare, but all I can see is the man I love and those eyelashes I’m so jealous of. “And t’ apologize, even tho’ ‘m not even really sorry for what I did.”

“Apology accepted,” I concur sarcastically, stepping back to lean against the counter. “I’ll let you be an idiot this one time.”

“Hey, don’t get yer hopes up too high now,” the sound of his giggle floats away and then my eyes are lulled to our hands that he laces together with a squeeze.

“Thank you, Harry,” I tell him sincerely, finding those greens hidden amongst his obnoxious curls.

“You’re sure?” she asks in between the noises that sound like bubbles trickling from her lips.

“Yes, ‘m sure. Dunno how many times I hafta tell ya.”

“You know it’ll never be enough,” she giggles below me, her face screwed up in absolute happiness. “Harry!” she yelps, shoving at my chest weakly.

“I know it won’t, yer stubborn as a bloody bull, you are,” I tsk with a click of my tongue, her body jolting with every stroke of my fingers across her ribs. Chuckling, I back up and watch how the laughs still peel off of her lips. “What’re you laughin’ at now, hmm? ‘m not even ticklin’ you anymo’ and yer still laughin’, li’l one.”

The crinkles around her eyes remain and so does the divot in her left cheek that I love almost as much as her eyes, but not quite. Speaking of, those very blues open up and land on me with a glitter to them, only to flee when the chime of the doorbell rings throughout the house. I watch how the skin of her throat is disrupted by a nervous swallow, followed by the automatic twirling of her ring around her pointer finger.

“Coming!” I call behind me, glancing to the door and then her. The way her dark waves are splayed across the sofa cushions. The glittery opal that sits perfectly above the scoop of her maroon blouse. The pink seeping through in her cheeks that I could kiss until I taste their sweetness.

“You’re really sure, Harry?” Becks asks softly, her eyes wandering nervously to the front door and then me.

“Yes, ‘m absolutely positive she’ll love you. Now, take a deep breath and let’s go answer tha door.”

A small ‘okay’ greets the air as her fingers fall between mine that I reassuringly squeeze. My steps come to a halt in front of the cherry oak, but I’m not quite there. Looking up, my thoughts are confirmed when I see my arm outstretched holding onto her where she stands, much too far away.

“C’mere,” I laugh in a whisper, tugging on her arm until she arrives at my side. The smell of orange blossoms and vanilla flood my senses as I pull away from the forehead kiss.

“You know, she’s going to be mad, don’t you?” I pose, ghosting my thumb over the concoction of purple and blue painted below his eye.

“Hush, li’l one, I already have one mum. I don’t need anotha,” he chirps with a teasing wink, twisting open the door.

“What is this I’m going to be mad about?” a voice pipes up with a curious accusatory sound to their voice. “Harry Edward!” she exclaims, not even one foot in the door. “What’d you do to your beautiful face?”

“I uh, ran into a door. Y’know, my sunglasses were really dark and-,” he begins, but much to my surprise and happiness, his mother doesn’t let him get away with the terrible lie. I’m liking her already.

“Don’t lie to your mother, son,” she tuts with a shake of her head, lightly smacking the back of his head that he mutters an ‘ow!’ at. The oddly cold Spring day rushes in with her first steps, but my insides warm at the sigh she shares with me when our eyes meet. “I thought you were old enough to know better to avoid fist fights.”

“Pete started it, not me!”

“I don’t care who started it, you’re a grown man, Harry.”

“That’s what I tried to tell him,” I groan, watching him take her coat to hang in the closet beside the stairs.

“Bloody hell, I see you two are gettin’ on already. Who’s side are you on, anyways?” Harry scoffs, closing the dark cherry wood door.

“Yes, I see we are. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you, Becky. I’ll just blame it on me son keeping you away from me,” Harry’s mum croons, her lips painted with lipstick spreading into a cheery smile. Chuckling, I ignore Harry’s arguing ‘hey!’ as I step forward into her outreached arms. “I think I have a bone to pick with him, you’re prettier than he ever said you were.”

“So are you,” I chortle, picking up on the geranium and amber notes of her perfume before I step away to find her cobalt blue eyes smiling at me.

“I do like her!” she chuckles to Harry, squeezing my opposite arm that she still holds onto.

“What’d I tell ya?” Harry pipes up, nodding at me. “Two peas inna pod already, you lot are. Talkin’ shit ‘bout me and motherin’ me togetha in tha first bleedin’ minute ya’ve met,” he sighs, taking down three white plates from the cabinets that he reaches easily with his height.

“That’s good, I need somebody else here to mother you while ‘m away. I reckon it doesn’t help much when you’re too stubborn to avoid boyish fist fights,” she returns, turning to me with a joking look in her eyes. Our laughs echo the others as she leads me over to the oval wooden table on the other side of the kitchen island, against the sliding patio door. “Who better than your girlfriend and colleague?”

“I guess so,” Harry groans, pulling back a chair for her to sit, soon falling into the chair across from me. “Neither o’ you even let me get t’ tha introductions, you women and yer talkin,’” he grunts, pulling himself closer to the table. With a calming breath, he runs a hand through his hair and pushes up the sleeves of his olive green knitted jumper. “Mum, this ‘s me girlfriend, Becky, but I like t’ call her Becks. And bug, this ‘s me mum, Anne. Shall we finally have that brekky togetha we’ve been talkin’ ‘bout fer months?”

“Yes, let’s dig in,” Anne chuckles, a sliver of Harry’s song heard in her voice. “Oooo, ‘s this apple bread by the famous chef I’ve heard so much about?”

“Yes, she doesn’t disappoint, never ever,” Harry winks, licking a crumb off of his thumb after grabbing a slice of the bread. A pink sits in his cheeks that I’m sure is mirrored in my own, and perhaps greater. I look away with a small smile, shoveling the egg bake onto my plate. “Not in tha court room, with baking, or with how good o’ job she does takin’ care o’ me,” he muses with a glint in his eye and cheeks rounder than I’ve ever seen.

I go on and listen to the stories, I even help tell some of them. Some of them make me tear up, whether it be from laughing, the wetness in Harry’s, or the love shining through in his and in hers.

“I told ya so.”

“Yeah, when don’t you?” I bite back, and immediately regret it when I feel his fingers along my ribs, eliciting laughs from my lips.

“Hey, watch it, li’l one. I have you inna compromisin’ situation here, so ya betta watch yerself,” Harry giggles, the words tickling my ear. The sounds continue from my lips and I hear them shadowed in his, and how they play off of each other while his hands keep my stomach warm. “I told ya she’d love you, and she did. Couldn’t shutup ‘bout you at Gemma’s last night, ‘specially tha fact you gave her a whole loaf o’ yer apple bread. You made her bloody day, ‘m sure. Speakin’ of, ya ready t’ meet me sista properly fer lunch t’morrow?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I groan, the words whisked away with a sound that my lips, I sometimes think, hold just for him. His stubbly face is itchy against my temple, but he remedies it with soft pecks to the skin.

“You guess?!” he exclaims, squeezing me around the middle. My head knocks against his, and he keeps my fingers secure between his while the smells of greasy pizza and floor cleaner lull me with their familiarity. His argument dissolves into a soft chuckle muffled against my hair where he mouths kisses.

“You know who I wish you could meet?”

“Hmmm, who’s that, bug?” Harry replies. Gulping, my eyes fall away from the crowds of people mingling around at the their tables, sucking the last few drops from their soda or guzzling pints. The answer flees from my lips, but after I twirl it around my finger a few times, I think he knows after he nuzzles his head against mine. “I wish I coulda meet yer gran,’ too, y’know. I wish you coulda met my granddad as well. ‘m sad I didn’t get t’ meet yers eitha . . . You’ll have t’ come home t’ Cheshire one o’ these weekends and meet me Gran’ Clara- Claire, she likes t’ go by. She’s a real hoot and already knows ‘bout you, naturally. She reminds me loads o’ Skye’s mum- bloody hell, I see where Skye gets tha crazies from now.”

“I agree with you on that one,” I titter and he nods into my neck, but the sounds fall when he spins the ring around my finger before folding my hands inside of his own.

In a whisper against my cheek, he whispers words that take away the breath I didn’t know that I had left. “‘m so bloody glad that I met you, Becks, and that we’re here . . finally. Met me mum, met Skye’s tha other day, and meetin’ me sista t’morrow. Harper will be delighted t’ see you, I know, and tha baby ‘s gettin’ bigger e’ryday.”

I nod and any words I had wanted to say escape me with the squeal garnered by his fingers digging into my tummy, remedied by a kiss below my ear.

“You lot are fucking disgusting, y’know that, don’t you?” comes a voice with a disdainful scoff. “It’s been your turn for a good thirty seconds now, Ree. Get going, would you?!”

“I know, ‘s great, innit? Go on, babe. Show me how t’ get a strike,” Harry teases with a loud kiss to my cheek to annoy Robbie, pushing me off of his lap where his arms wrapped around me kept us arm. It’s drowned out by the sound of surprise I utter when he slaps my ass with his hand.

“My fricken God, you two are embarrassing me,” Robbie groans, walking past me to pick up his pint from the table, and taking a seat beside his muddy Wellies. Turning around in shock, I find Harry’s greens lit with a smirk that shines on his face. “C’mon, Ree, bowl already! You’re shit half of the time anyways, what’s the difference now?” he jokes and a loud scoff graces the air, much to Harry’s amusement.

Sighing, I step up to the little contraption that wheels forward Robbie’s glittery navy blue bowling ball. I lean over to grab my electric yellow one etched with a white ‘7’ and widen my eyes at Harry’s green ‘10.’ Threading my fingers into the three holes, my clown like shoes step onto the polished wood, and I try to remain cool and calm. Closing my eyes, I grimace at their teasing of me from behind, but Harry’s contagious breathy laugh propels me forward.

“Ya, that’s me girl! Three pins down, woohoo!” he shouts loudly in a squeaky and sarcastic voice, holding up his beer in a fake cheer. Shaking my head with red cheeks, I wait for my ball to return and to try again.

Slowly, I realize with the ball heavy in my hands and my score falling far behind theirs on the tv above, that just like any other time, I don’t care if I win or lose. This time is different, listening to how my boyfriend and my twin brother joke from behind me and laugh, their conversation quickly turning to football and then music.

Sometimes, I have a hard time believing this is a day in my life after everything, and it’s only one of the firsts.

A/N: Hello, friends! Thank you SO MUCH to those still reading, and also to new readers! Welcome, and I’m so glad you’re here! I’m so sorry that this blurb took awhile than I originally planned . . it boggles me how I spend basically every minute I’m not working and shadowing doing homework :/ I hope to have the next blurb out in two weeks, so I’ll keep you all posted! Enjoy and let me know what you think, please! I love you all and good luck with everything!

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sambergscott · 4 years

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a valentine’s surprise

Summary: Cheddar had passed the gem stones, they had been sterilised (twice!) and everyone is usually too loved up, or sad, to be out committing crimes, making Valentine’s the perfect holiday for a heist. Except when you had plans that will have to be cancelled. At the end of the day, Jake makes it up to his wife.

(spoilers for season 7 episode 11)

Her Valentine’s starts pretty great, her husband treating her to coffee, heart-shaped pancakes and a card that reads I’m going to make you moan like Myrtle.

(Despite the message on the front, there is a very sweet paragraph inside about how much he loves her and how smart and pretty she is and about how she makes him feel good about the world and his place in it. When she gets to the sentence about how difficult the last few months have been, he thanks her, says that he couldn’t have gone through it with anyone else and reminds her that they are a family - no matter what).

He proudly displays his card from her (a drawing of Hans Gruber falling from Nakatomi Plaza with the words I’ve fallen for you) on his nightstand and lays out his elaborate plans for the rest of the day: quick stop at home after work to shower and change, dinner at a fancy Manhattan restaurant and then, when they’re a little wine drunk and their inhibitions are lowered, salsa dancing.

She pops a piece of pancake in her mouth, chewing slowly as she debates the pros and cons of telling him they can’t do any of that. He will be crushed. He made the reservations last year, added it to their joint calendar and sticks new post-its on the fridge daily counting down to the Valentine’s Day Of The Century. They clearly both need the distraction from eating healthily and monitoring temperature and overly scheduled sex and referring to said sex as uterine deposits and doctor’s appointments, fertility drugs, negative test after negative test and questions from everyone they know. But the heist is due to restart today - Cheddar had passed the gem stones, they had been sterilised (twice!) and everyone is usually too loved up, or sad, to be out committing crimes, making it the perfect holiday for a heist.

Except when you had plans that will have to be cancelled.

“I’m sorry, babe,” she apologises after revealing the news, kissing away his disappointed frown. “We can always reschedule. February 15th can be the most romantic day of the year if we want it to be.”

He doesn’t respond, but she recognises the look on his face from when he’s coming up with a backstory for one of his undercover characters or an explanation as to why the dishwasher is overflowing when there are still dirty dishes all over the kitchen. His expression changes, his lips twisting into a smile, his eyes sparkling - he has a solution.

“What is it, Jake?” She deadpans.

“Surprise,” is his only answer as he wolfs the rest of his pancakes and asks her to shower with him.

Thank God she washed her hair last night otherwise they would’ve most certainly been late to work.

“Morning lovebirds,” Charles says in a singsong voice as soon as the elevator doors open, firing a million questions at them about what they bought each other, how the pancakes tasted (he must’ve got lessons from Charles, which makes the gesture that much sweeter) and whether they’ve already conceived a Valentine’s baby from their love.

Rosa punches him in the arm for them as she walks past.

Of all days to be handcuffed to her husband’s best friend, it had to be Valentine’s Day.

She learns way too many disgusting details about his sex life; he lists the sexiest restaurants in New York from A-Z (his personal favourite is Dining in the Dark that just opened in Parkslope, the blindfolds enhancing all the senses, he explains with a smirk), recommends the best foods to eat off a lover’s body and reads all his texts to Genevieve OUT. LOUD.

Amy shudders at their increasingly gross pet names, trying to focus her attention on Jake from across the bullpen. He’s kept coy about what he has planned for her, her only clue that it will be “hella romantic.”

(She read his lips).

Charles puts his phone away (thank God, she was moments from pulling a Terry and crushing the thing with her bare hands) and they go over their plan once more. Jake and Holt will argue, thanks to her excellent idea to rig the teams, they will mess up and Charles will use his dainty fingers to steal the gems from Bill’s pocket.

Then there are flowers everywhere, the precinct filled with the sweet scent of a billion roses, and in the chaos Scully steals (and swallows) the damn gems.

They end up back at Cheddar’s vet because all the emergency rooms are filled with skeletons and clowns and Harley Quinns having their stomachs pumped and apparently Scully’s body resembles closer to that of a human-sized giraffe with his big ol’ heart and leathery skin than a human-human. The vet reveals the gems are indeed inside of him and the heist is postponed until Easter.

“Hey,” Jake says, grabbing her hand to hold her back as everyone else leaves the surgery. “We’re friends again, right?”

“Yes, babe,” she assures him. Kylie thinks it’s weird how they can go from trash talking back to “babe” and heart eyes with the flick of a switch, but that’s just the way they’ve always been. They’re competitive. They will do anything to win. And they love each other. “Best friends.”

“Awesome,” he grins.

“So, best friend, what do we do now?”

He feigns ignorance. “What do you mean?”

“What’s your big Valentine’s Day surprise? I know you have one.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ames. We’ve missed our reservation. I just need to go back to work to pick up my bag.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure.” She eyes him suspiciously, following him to the parking lot and their car and laughing when he turns on a playlist of the Most Romantic Taylor Swift Songs for the drive back to the precinct.

She plays along, acts like nothing is happening, like she doesn’t see the nervous tapping of his hand against the steering wheel or the constant lighting up of his phone with new encrypted messages. He’s even changed his passcode from their wedding date so she can’t unlock it.

When they get to the Nine-Nine, all the Valentine’s decorations have gone, probably removed by the night shift detectives who cannot stand their day shift counterparts, and Jake leads her to the evidence lock-up.

Her thoughts inevitably drift to HalloVeen, to becoming a two time champ and Jake Peralta’s fiancée. To the way he told her to “read the inscription on that there belt”, the way he was already down on one knee when she realised what was happening, the way he smiled when he managed to surprise her. To his heart eyes as he listed the things he loves about her and slid on the ring and kissed her in a way he’d never kissed her before.

She doesn’t know how anyone can argue anything other than her winning that day.

He opens the door and there are hearts everywhere, all the flowers from the delivery guys, a table and two chairs constructed from evidence boxes, a bottle of pinot gris and a take-out bag from her favourite Polish place.

She’s speechless.

“I got Bill to set it up,” he explains, fiddling with his police badge. “I figured if we couldn’t make it to the fancy restaurant, I’d bring the fancy restaurant to you. Kind of. I mean, it’s still a police precinct and the floor is kind of sticky and we’re surrounded by evidence from murder cases, but-.”

She cuts him off with a kiss. “Babe, it’s perfect.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s so romantic. And this is kind of our place, right? Where we had our first for realz kiss, where we got engaged.” She pauses. “Also the flowers really mask the bad smell.”

He breaks into laughter, shaking his head. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, too,” she replies. “Now can we eat? I had to listen to Charles talk about food all day and I’m starving.”

“Of course, m’lady.” He pulls out a “chair”, ever the gentleman, and kisses the top of her head before sitting on his own stack of boxes. He pours the wine into their NYPD mugs and holds his up in the air. “To us, to Fake Charles, to pierogis.”

“To pierogis,” she cheers, clinking their mugs together.

(And, for the record, when they get home, he sticks to his card’s promise, a very happy ending to Valentine’s Day indeed).

#b99 fic #jake x amy #my writing #lemme know what you think!!

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amyscascadingtabs · 5 years

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all i know is i wanna be here with you from now on

One month old babies are really great at sleeping at night, said no one ever.

Jake has a vague memory of a time where their bed was the perfect size for both him and Amy, but he’ll admit said memory is growing hazier by the day.

To be fair, they weren't planning on letting their newborn sleep in their bed. They had a clear and structured plan, outlined in the first of many parenting binders, of keeping their baby in her cot right next to Amy’s side of the bed for the first few months before transferring her over to her own room.

Then they actually became parents.

To a child that at exactly one month and three days of age refuses to fall asleep anywhere but on one of her parents, prefers sleeping that way, and will - if they're lucky - sometimes accept her baby nest at night, provided it's right in the middle of the bed with one parent on each side of it.

No matter how cozy it is to have her near, Jake has been doing an awful lot of googling on the pricing and reviews of king size beds lately.

He supposes a bigger bed wouldn't help him with the other issue keeping him from sleep. It's not been more than an hour since he kissed his wife goodnight and crept underneath the covers, pressing a kiss to his daughter’s forehead and watching her yawn in reaction before closing his eyes, and he's already wide awake after Leah woke him up screaming bloody murder right in his ear twenty minutes ago.

She's eaten now - to be fair, he agrees with her that being hungry’s the worst - but instead of going straight back to sleep like she can usually do after night feeds, she just won’t sleep. They’ve burped her, changed a diaper and played the white noise music which seems to always be sounding through their home nowadays, but the only thing that’s keeping their newborn from outright screaming is one parent walking around holding her to their chest, lightly bouncing her.

It’s not their first case of nights like these in their first, intense month of parenthood, but in contrast to the previous nights, Jake goes back to work tomorrow.

“You have to sleep”, Amy protested when he offered to do the soothing of crying baby. “You can’t go back to work without having slept.”

He protested back, arguing that he’s been sleep-deprived at work plenty throughout his career - the time he made Charles pretend to be a dead body and sprayed ketchup over his friend only one of many occasions - but she wouldn’t have it. She left the room with Leah for a few minutes, coming back with a seemingly sleeping baby whom she successfully transferred to the baby nest.

That was two minutes ago, not enough time for Jake to fall asleep again but apparently enough for Amy, and when the wailing starts anew, his wife straight out groans in frustration.

“I’ll get her”, he offers then, already sitting up in bed and lifting Leah to his chest the way that has become second nature by now. Amy mumbles something inaudible, likely attempting to stop him again, but he's left the room before she has the chance to do anything but go back to the sleep she so desperately deserves.

He walks a few laps around the living room before his daughter’s desperate cries subside, hushing and stroking her back through the purple striped pajamas until her face is no longer red from exertion, until she's quietly fussing rather than screaming her little lungs out.

For a seven-and-a-half-pound person, their kid sure has a powerful voice.

“It would be a lot easier if you could talk, you know”, he whispers to her when they move from the living room to the nursery. “Tell us what’s wrong. Think you can work on that?”

The request gives him another upset cry. He reads it as a negative response.

Jake sits down with her in the comfortable combined arm and rocking chair the Santiago family gracefully gifted to them, hoping she’ll accept the slight change and taking a deep breath of relief when she does. One of her fists grab onto his t-shirt, and she’s not falling asleep, but she’s calming down.

Right now he’s ironic when he asks her to speed up growing. Though he could pee his pants with excitement over what it will be like to have a kid that walks and talks and sleeps more than two hours at once, time is swooping by at an alarming rate as is. He’s been a dad for one, short, intense month, and already Leah is an inch longer, a pound and a half heavier, a little less terrifyingly fragile in his arms. She sleeps and eats at what vaguely resembles a schedule, has mastered the art of nursing without making both Amy and herself cry and is starting to accept him feeding her with a bottle. Every day there seems to be a new noise, a new grimace, a new way to move her arms and accidentally hit herself in the face, and every day his already overpowering love for her grows.

Jake's almost about to consider his mission of calming a fussy baby successful when he notices her doing a too-sharp inhale. Barely able to brace himself for the inevitable, he listens to her cry out another time, heartbreaking and loud enough for neighbors to hear. He stands up with her again, rocking, trying to see if the combination of movement and the unicorn lovey from her crib can make her relax. He then fights the temptation to make a full-on victory gesture when it, eventually, does. There's a display of framed pictures hanging over the crib, and he stops in front of it, watching them without giving up the gentle rocking.

Two ultrasound pictures - one from the first time they got to see and hear a fluttering heartbeat on the screen, one from later on when they could see a spine and legs and arms and the cutest little nose in profile. A black and white newborn picture, Leah just hours old, in between. A selfie they took with one of the positive pregnancy tests, grinning at each other in disbelief. One picture each of them holding her, looking equally in awe of this little person that's now keeping them up at night. A piece of quote art Jake found on Etsy, saying you are the best thing that's ever been mine.

He has to get up for work in five hours, and even if he does get any sleep tonight it’s not going to be enough - yet as he hears a somewhat content sigh from Leah and sees her yawn, he can’t make himself care. Though he was well aware he’d love his kid to the moon and back, he worried and fretted about whether he could have inherited his own father’s crappy parenting skills. He’s still unsure about a lot of things, but as he sits back down in the armchair and draws up his legs so she can lay against his thighs, and she stretches out her arms over her head to then hit herself on the nose when they come back, gasping with surprise, he’s certain a lack of love is not the problem.

“I hope you know we love you”, he tells her, trying to flatten the dark hair that prefers sticking up like a mohawk. “It’s hard to know sometimes. But I really hope so.”

“I love you”, he assures her another time, her hands gripping onto both of his index fingers as he all but attacks her with kisses across her belly and face. She scrunches her nose and forehead slightly, but accepts, used to it at this point. “Your mom loves you, your grandparents, all your friends - aunt Rosa and aunt Gina, uncle Terry, your uncle Charles probably loved you before you even existed at all, grandpa Holt…” Jake smiles at the memory of his captain visiting them in the hospital their second day there, remembering how he’d been impressed by his daughter for putting an actual smile on the usually so dead-pan man’s face in mere seconds.

“You’re a very loved kid.”

Leah grunts to this. He decides to interpret it as agreement.

When she starts fussing yet another time, he sings to her. It’s mostly Taylor Swift songs, mixed with a mellow version of I Want It That Way - whatever’s playing inside his head in the middle of the night. Even with his mediocre singing voice, singing to her has become one of his favorite things to do just because he adores her reaction to it. She'll stare at him in awe, take on an expression like she's actually listening, sometimes trying to wave and kick to the melody.

Had someone told him a year ago that this is why’d he be awake at 2.30 a.m., Jake's certain he would have laughed, but now it seems the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey there.”

He's halfway through an acapella version of Long Live, Leah's eyes opening and closing like she's about to fall asleep but stopping herself from doing so, when he hears Amy's voice. She's leaning against the doorframe, wistful smile on her lips looking at them, and he wonders quietly to himself how on Earth she manages to make one month postpartum and the old oversized NYPD shirt she uses for pajamas look a million dollars. “Is she sleeping yet?”

“Nah. World’s too interesting.” He jokefully narrows his eyes at Leah, saying the next words with over-the-top enthusiasm. “But you know what happens when you don’t sleep? You get overtired! And I’m pretty sure you enjoy that even less than we do!”

She gives him a blank stare, and if she’d been a snarky teenager and not a one-month-old infant, Jake imagines she’d be saying something like yeah, so what and stomp off to slam her bedroom door.

Amy snorts before sitting down on the long-pile rug next to the armchair. “You should go to sleep”, she coerces, squeezing his thigh. “Both of you, but especially the one who has work tomorrow. I’m serious.”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine, Ames. Really. I’ll miss her like hell tomorrow, anyway.”

“I get it.” She nods, caressing one of Leah’s fists. “But you’ll be okay. I’ll text you updates.”

“Every half hour?”

“What she’s doing, how she’s doing, pictures, film clips”, she assures him. “All of it. Plus you’ll be home early.”

“Still too long”, he mumbles.

“I know.”

Leah begins to whimper, and their focuses shift instantly back to her. Jake stands up with her, starting the rocking and bouncing anew for what feels like the twentieth time that night.

“She's going to miss you too, you know”, Amy whispers. “We both are.”

“Well, I’ll miss you two more, so I'm winning.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a soft affection to it. He supposes she is the one person who could tell him she loves him with an eye-roll of all things.

Leah yawns, her little hands moving again in an attempt to grip his t-shirt, and then she finds one of his arms and it's like he's being carefully hugged by a twenty-inch, not-yet-eight-pounds body. It’s the actual sweetest thing he's seen tonight.

He tears up; of course he tears up. That's pretty much what he does in life now, but it's okay, because Amy's doing the same watching them, wiping hormone-fuelled tears away with the back of her hand.

“The only thing better than her”, she says, voice hushed, “is seeing you with her. It's the best thing I know.”

“I just want to do a good job.”

“You already are.”

“I have to leave her for a full day tomorrow. ”

“You're going to be okay, Jake.”

Easy for you to say, he wants to argue. You get to stay home all day looking after our daughter and reading through study material for the lieutenant’s exam. But 2.30 a.m. is not the peak time to be jealous of their daughter’s physical dependence on Amy, so he stays quiet.

The whole room is near silent, save the white noise machine still playing from its place in the shelf, when he realizes.

“Ames, I think she's sleeping.”

Leah's eyes are closed, the fussing finally ceased, and he's scared to say the words out loud in case she’ll be screaming against the next second, but she doesn't and Amy's eyes widen in awe.

“God, you're amazing.” She stands up, kissing his cheek and giving the snoozing infant the amazed, infatuated look he's seen near daily on his wife's face for a month now. “Now let's go back to sleep before she wakes. Quick.”

Amy's out like a light soon as her head hits the pillow. He stays awake a few more minutes, watching his daughter, the way her little chest rises and falls, the way her miniature fingers twitch when she's dreaming.

Tomorrow, he's going to go do the job he's actually hired for, the job which used to be his everything at one point in time and the job he has missed, if only slightly, this month.

He's almost dreading it, this ocean of time away from the person who gave him the job title seeming much more important to him now, but he's doing it anyway.

He has to save up for that king-size bed somehow.

#it's been so long since i wrote baby fic but here it is finally #so meandering #my writing #peraltiago fic #baby fic #jake x amy fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #jake peralta #b99 fanfiction

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jbuffyangel · 5 years

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It Ain't Nothing but a Family Thing: Arrow 7x17 Review (Inheritance)

“Inheritance” is equal parts necessary exposition and filler episode. Not quite sure how the writers accomplished that, but they did.

Let’s dig in…

Emiko and Oliver

Soooo… here’s the problem guys. I don’t really care about Emiko. The whole time I’m watching this plot line unfold I am thinking, “Couldn’t Thea have gone all evil?”

Take a pause and give that a good think. How awesome would it have been for Thea to take a deep dive down the evil hole? It would have been amazing, which is why I loudly demanded it for the six years Willa Holland was on the show.

Watching Oliver try to pull Thea away from the Ninth Circle would have been a good time.

Not so much with Replacement Thea. The problem is I just met Emiko this season. I understand that’s typically the case when it comes to Arrow villains, but I’m supposed to bond with her character as Oliver’s sister and then be horrified when she turns out to be a villain.

Arrow even tried to fast track my bonding by making Emiko into Oliver 2.0. I’m not really seeing the individualism except for evil. Every week the writers were hanging a sign out that said, “SEE? SHE’S JUST LIKE OLIVER!” by mimicking previous OG Oliver Queen scenes. Just in case you missed any of the visual cues or copied verbatim scenes, the other characters are here to verbally proclaim Emiko is just like her brother.

Eh… keep it. Unfortunately, none of this has accomplished Arrow’s intended goal which is for me to give a crap about Emiko.

It should be noted that when Arrow does the “SEE? SHE’S JUST LIKE OLIVER” with Mia or “SEE? HE’S JUST LIKE FELICITY!” with William (and vice versus) I love it. Yes, I am aware this is a double standard. Maybe it’s because the kids have more personality than cardboard. Sorry Emiko. Facts are facts. Maybe it’s because they are Olicity’s kids and therefore my investment is virtually guaranteed. I don’t know. I don’t care. It’s Season 7 and I’m gonna do me.

The only thing keeping me mildly entertained with Emiko is that she is evil. I’m not really interested in watching her be redeemed either. I know I know. The season theme is redemption, but come on! Someone has to burn in the fires of Hades for all eternity. It doesn’t mean anything if every character is redeemed.

Typically, I am down for Robert Queen flashbacks whenever possible, but in order to make this storyline work they had to turn Oliver’s father into a tremendous pile of stinking douchebag. Robert was always kind of a douchebag what with the whole killing a man by accident, lying about it and then getting embroiled in Merlyn’s plot to destroy half the city because of his guilt.

But he had gravitas. The class of an elder statesman. Maybe it’s the silver hair and grumbly grandpa voice I pray Oliver Queen will have some day. Maybe it’s because he put a bullet in his head to save his son. Annnnd… also murdered someone else in the process. Alright. Robert was a douchebag, but he was a mildly noble douchebag and I love him okay? I DON’T KNOW WHY!

But the Robert Queen in “Inheritance” is a misogynistic, slimy, cheating, coward who kicks his mistress and love child out of the swanky apartment he was putting them up at and tells his daughter, “Life isn’t fair. We don’t always get what we want.” Wow.

That’s a great way to create a villain, Robert. Watch Batman or Star Wars or ANY HERO STORY EVER and learn fool.

Emiko worked hard to get her father’s approval or acknowledgement of her existence to the world. She wanted to run Queen Consolidated, but nope that’s a man’s job sweetie. Oliver Queen and his penis, which was whoring its way through Starling City at the time, are destined for CEO. Emiko takes Robert’s misogyny in stride and simply asks him to back a company of her own, but he balks at that too. This is the last straw in a very long line of straws.

Unfortunately, Emiko doesn’t tell her father where to stick it and cut off all contact. No, that would be reasonable. Instead, she decides to go super villain on him. She impresses Dante after stealing from him and he agrees to train her. Emiko vacillates between being a Queen and joining the Ninth Circle for years, but the final brush off from Robert is the tipping point. She decides Dante is right and the Ninth Circle is her real family.

Oliver follows Emiko after Bl*ck S*ren warns she may not be playing for the home team and he sees her with Dante. Oliver confronts Emiko and she sings some song and dance about not knowing who the real Dante was when she signed up with him. Now she’s trapped. It works. Oliver buys it hook line and sinker, because blindly ignoring blatant warning signs is what he does when it comes to the Queen family.

He smartens up once he figures out Emiko sabotaged Felicity’s Archer program to protect Dante’s location. DO NOT MESS WITH THE WIFEY’S TOYS.

Oliver and Emiko face off in a fight that’s a lot about her ponytail. It had a life of its own.

Sadly, this is one of the worst fights I’ve seen in Arrow’s history. I really hope Sea Shimooka isn’t taking acting tips from KC, because it sure looks like it.

WHO IS SHE LOOKING AT? I’m not putting all the blame at her feet. Stephen upped his cheese factor about ten notches too. The whole scene felt awkward, choppy and forced.

Source: smoakmonster

Diggle sits Oliver down for a much needed Yoda talk. John warns him not to be so invested in Emiko’s redemption that he ignores the threat she poses. Ah yes, the evil sibling plot line also happened in Season 4 with Diggle and Andy.

Yeesh, alright it’s time for this show to end. John’s need to save his brother ultimately cost L*urel her life and he doesn’t want Oliver to make the same mistake.

It’s time you left yourself off the hook on that one, Diggle.

It was all win from where I sat, so stop being so hard on yourself.

UGH. I tell the man to be Jesus and then he starts acting like Jesus!!! The nerve. Oliver, being a fully realized superhero doesn’t mean you save EVERYONE. Jesus didn’t save every – never mind. The point is, after seven seasons, now the pine tree listens to me? He could’ve popped the question in Season 3 and I’d be on my way to a second set of triplets, but nooooo.

Oliver wants to redeem Emiko because then it means he’s redeemed the family in some way.

Source: olivergifs

Why isn’t enough that you’ve redeemed yourself Oliver? You’re a Queen. You count. Yes, you were a massive douchebag once upon a time, but you stopped sleeping with Lance sisters (thank God), fell in love with sunshine, and embraced monogamy & commitment like the squishy teddy bear with abs we always knew you were. You also fight for the city, save lives, and cook your pregnant wife yummy veggies to munch on. You’re evolved dude. Cut yourself a break. And Thea isn’t exactly the Mistress of Satan. She’s off saving the world too. Two out of three ain’t bad.

This whole “Right my wrongs” needs clarification. First it was the list, but it morphed into saving the Glades. Then Tommy died and things kind of snowballed. So, how many wrongs are we talking Bobby? Let’s get specific. We’ve only got 15 episodes left. Did you sell Iran nuclear weapons? Use Moira’s toothbrush and not tell her? Steal candy from babies? Are there a dozen more Robert Queen kiddos intent on world destruction?

Time is a wasting. I have a spin off coming and it needs to not be about your bullshit man.

Team Arrow ultimately foils Emiko’s plan. Well… kind of. They miss one drone, but no worries! It was just a demonstration. They’re worried about the next time, when it’s not a demonstration, but I was more focused on the few extra tidbits delivered in the final moments of the episode

Not only does Emiko choose the Ninth Circle, she is their leader.

She is also targeting the Archer program, which means nothing good for Oliver, Felicity and their children. Despite, my frustrations with Emiko’s character I am glad they are tying this all back to Robert and the Queens. Family is where this story began and it’s where it should end.

Dante gave Emiko a gift when she was struggling between being a Queen or joining the Ninth Circle. It was the most hilariously unrealistic looking invoice from Merlyn Global, but it showed the location of the bombs on the Queen’s Gambit. Emiko knew about Merlyn’s plan and she could have saved her father’s life if she simply passed on the information at their meeting. But he rejected her once more, so Emiko sent Robert to his death and unknowingly condemned her brother to five years of hell. Damn.

What Emiko doesn’t realize is that by keeping quiet about the bombs on the Queen’s Gambit she helped set her brother on a path to become someone who can stop her. In the immortal words of Leo McGarry, “ "It ain't nothing but a family thing.”

Felicity Smoak

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Felicity wins Walter White.

This is something many fans have been saying for years, including yours truly, so I am quite happy the writers agree.

Felicity continues to slay at all three, but a key part to “having it all” is knowing when you need help. Felicity asks her friend Alena to join the company as CTO. Look how excited this human rainbow is. She melts my heart.

Source: felicittysqueen

Unfortunately, I don’t really trust Alena. Yes, I know she’s helped Felicity in the past, but I still feel uneasy about her. Perhaps that distrust is unnecessary and her interactions with Felicity will continue to be adorable and on the up and up. But Archer is corrupted somehow in the future and I’m keeping an eye on Alena in present day.

Concerns aside, I did have myself a petty little cackle. Technically speaking, Felicity had a built in CTO for Smoak Tech on Team Arrow – Curtis Holt. Instead, the writers ship him off to D.C. and bring in Alena who, shady or not, is far preferable to Curtis. I just didn’t think Beth would agree with me. She’s like friggin Santa Claus.

The biggest issue I had with the spinal technology was it didn’t really connect to the Team Arrow storyline. A character feels isolated on their own show whenever that happens. My concern was Felicity’s great individual storyline was going to cut her off from the action.

The genius of this season, and the retooling of Felicity’s company, is the writers have found a way to weave it in with the vigilante storyline. Smoak Tech no longer feels like an island they are placing Felicity on, but rather it permeates almost every facet of the show – both past and present. This means Felicity permeates every facet of the show.

Last, but certainly not least, Felicity continues to be a bad ass wife as she manages more Queen family drama. The man is an Adonis who cooks, but oy does he come with family baggage. At least, Oliver’s reaction to this type of drama is predictable and Felicity doesn’t miss a beat.

When he comes back from the field empty handed Felicity knows immediately how to make him smile.

Source: olicitygifs

She tells Oliver he’s hot. That’s it. That’s how Felicity cheers him up.

He compartmentalizes and hyper focuses on stopping Emiko, but Felicity tells Oliver to take a beat and process.

Source: olicitygifs

Of course, Oliver ignores her and becomes frustrated with the team when they aren’t moving fast enough. So, Felicity tells him to cool it.

He ignores her AGAIN, but at least we are blessed with this glorious response.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Where has this gif been for the last seven years? If Oliver is going to be a stubborn ass then at the very least his wife is going to drag him for it with some patented Felicity Smoak snark.

I think Felicity and Diggle have a system for deciding who talks to Oliver. Maybe it depends on circumstance. Diggle seems like the obvious choice because he had an evil sibling too. Maybe they rock paper scissors. Whatever the system, it was Diggle talking down their boy this week.

We did, however, get some quality husband and wife crime fighting team work. YOUR OTP WOULD NEVER.

Source: olivergifs

After a long day of supporting her husband, incubating their child and stopping criminals, Felicity returns to the loft to work on Archer with Alena. And this was a light Felicity Smoak episode. Damn. Queen of DCTV is right.

Sweet holy Moses, how are we going to do ten episodes without her?

I love Oliver Queen. He is my favorite character, but I think we can all agree Felicity Smoak makes him infinitely more tolerable. Oliver can be stubborn, grumpy pine tree left to his own devices. Hopefully, he’s evolved enough that all of Felicity’s hard work doesn’t go down the tubes the moment they are separated. He is supposed to be Jesus now. I think Slabside is evidence it won’t, but ten episodes without Felicity Smoak feels like a daunting task. It feels like climbing a mountain...

only to get stabbed in the chest and chucked off the edge once we reach the top.

Bl*ck S*ren

BS decides to follow Emiko and gets spliced with an arrow because she sucks at covert ops.

Source: nyssaalghl

She goes to Olicity’s apartment to speak to Felicity about her Emiko suspicions, but unfortunately the wifey isn’t home. Bl*ck S*ren turns to leave when she realizes the only person available to discuss her suspicions with is Oliver. I believe there's 0% chance of L*urel falling in love with Oliver and 99.99% chance she's already in love with Felicity.

Not to be outdone, Oliver offers to bandage up her bleeding wound. He takes out antibiotic and gauze and SETS. IT. ON. THE. KITCHEN. COUNTER.

It’s a very large kitchen counter too, so it creates the wide berth these two require to stand being in a room together.

Source: nyssaalghl

We’ve gone from main love interest to stay on your side of the room. I died.

I don’t know how we got here family, but we’re here and it’s fabulous.

The writers are more anti L*uriver than I am, which is an impressive level of hate - if I’m being honest.

I need to put on a sweater whenever Stephen and KC film a scene because brr it’s cold!

The L*uriver fans expecting sexy bandage time must have been deeply disappointed. Or at least the two fans left were deeply disappointed.

Of course, Oliver doesn’t believe BS because duh. My dog could’ve called that one. He tells her to mind her own business and pretty much kicks her out the apartment. Obviously, L*urel is right about Emiko, but Oliver telling her to shove it never gets old under any circumstances.

Then Dinah accuses her of murdering a witness

Source: nyssaalghl

and L&urel is righteously indignant.

Of course, L*urel is right. It’s not like she has ever murdered before. Why on earth would anyone ever think that?

Dinah even has the nerve to bring up her dead boyfriend again. She really needs to let this Vince thing go because L*urel played lawyer for the last seven months and helped get Oliver out of a jail. See? All better.

BS is redeemed now, so Dinah really needs to stop bitching. Arrow is my life tutor, so following that same logic I’m going to murder a baby and then buy a puppy because it will even the cosmic balance.

The best moment is when Emiko releases images of Savior of the World L*urel L*nce meeting with Ricardo Diaz.

Source: nyssaalghl

It’s going to be pretty tough for BS to keep up the pretense she is law abiding, justice yielding District Attorney L&urel L*nce when she’s hanging out with one of Star City’s most notorious criminals. I take it back. Emiko is awesome.

Of course, I’m not delusional enough to believe Arrow is going to give BS an arc that actually qualifies as redemptive. Helping Felicity was a good start, but it doesn’t wipe the slate clean for me. Not by a long shot. Neither does being a fake lawyer. I would like to see L*urel pay for her crimes the same way Oliver paid for his by going to PRISON, but I doubt the writers will give me that much Christmas. I am very curious to see how “Lost Canary” shakes out. That said, I have very little doubt BS will betray her one true love.

Stray Thoughts

“Which doesn’t mean she’s bad.” I told you Olicity wouldn’t care Emiko killed Diaz. They brought the marshmallows to his bonfire party.

“On your own.” Stephen read that line super diva and it cracked me up.

“Being a father is more than just blood.” I hate to agree with a villain but damn he’s right.

Every time Felicity touches her stomach I happy clap. Source: olicitygifs

L*urel’s shoulder pads have to be stopped. Just say no wardrobe department.

Forcing me to go without this adorableness for an additional ten episodes is not oka. I’ll go through Felicity Smoak withdrawal which is hazardous. Source: ebett

Does Emiko visiting her father’s grave make a damn bit of sense now that we know she played a role in his death? Nope. Didn’t think so.

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x17 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

#arrow #arrow 7x17 #arrow spoilers #arrow review #anti emiko queen #oliver queen #felicity smoak #olicity #arrow reviews #anti laurel lance #anti katie cassidy #anti lauriver #anti black siren #arrow season 7 #arrow season 7 reviews #arrow season 7 review #season 7 episode review #season 7 episode reviews

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b-kitsune · 5 years

Text

Many ways to say I love you: Day Eight.

Kidge-a-palooza 2019 Prompt: Discourage. Pairing: Kidge (VLD) Universe: Lesbian!AU. Status: Part 1/2.

Keith was worried, and her heart trembled slightly when she couldn't see Pidge anywhere in the bar seats. She had stood up for five seconds to greet an old high school friend with whom she had lost contact for many years, and it was enough time to lose her among the sea of people in that place.

Where the hell had she gone?

''Keith, is everything okay?'' She heard Hunk at her side when he watched her worried, she nodded with a growl coming out of her throat.

''Yeah, I've just lost sight of someone.''

''Awww, have you finally got a girlfriend after all these years? I'm very proud of you!''

''It's ... Actually a friend.''

She answered in a faint whisper that it cost Hunk to listen when they approached the bars for a drink. But he definitely didn't overlook the way she had said it. The girl who was missing at the bar was someone important to Keith.

''Will not you go find her?''

''No, she must be with Shiro on the terrace. If she had left, she would have called me.'' She answered without further ado while taking a sip of black vodka when it was delivered. While a curiously ornate drink came into Hunk's hands. Keith looked at him curiously.

''What? I like cocktails, they are cute and sweet.''

''Okay, I'm the least likely person to recriminate you for what you drink.'' Keith answered with a shrug.

''Is Shiro also in this bar too?''

Hunk asked interested, Shiro had been his martial arts teacher many years ago and remembered him with real appreciation. Keith's older brother was a kind and talented person who always knew what to say at the right time.

''Sure, although we prefer the less ... Noisy, we knew this place thanks to Allura, a friend of the university. And it has good music, unlike many others.''

''I see.'' Hunk drank a little more of his own cocktail.

''And what have you done? Since you moved to California, we didn't hear from you again, not even Lance knew about you.''

''Yeah, well ... It's been difficult years, my mother got sick and we had to take care of her. But everything is fine now.''

''I'm glad to hear it, buddy.''

Keith smiled in sympathy when Hunk began to talk about what he had done when he moved to his mother's hometown. She had missed him quite a bit in recent years, but she couldn't keep her concentration when Pidge's face rested on her thoughts in her mind.

She sensed that she was outside with Shiro, and she assumed that if she looked out the window Keith could see her smoking next to her brother, away from the noise inside.

The problem was that Pidge didn't want her company at that moment, she was rejecting her completely and Keith couldn't blame her.

However, it was all Lance's fault, not hers. Her stupid best friend turned out to be a terribly toxic relationship for the poor girl during the time they spent together, and Pidge's heart ended up shattered some months ago. He had thrown her the day when Pidge found him kissing with another girl in his apartment, the bastard didn't even apologize when she demanded explanations. Subsequently, Lance didn't even prove to be sorry when she was confronted the next day when things were a little calmer and Pidge needed to pick up some things she had left in his apartment when they spent some nights together.

Keith could be angry with Lance and want to break his face for making her cry, completely oblivious to how they were both becoming in the last time, but deep-down Keith knew that something like this would happen sooner or later. Lance had never shown any real interest in Pidge before they started dating, she was sure he didn't even know her real name.

It hurt to see Pidge through the corridors of the university labs with a stony, expressionless face, swallowing pain to perform in the final examinations as if nothing had happened. When in the background Keith knew that all she wanted to do was scream in pain for her beloved love.

And Keith ... She was lost in a stupid crush that would never be reciprocated.

She loved the foolish Katherine Holt from the day she saw her in an advanced physics class, she approached her with a random question and since then they began to get closer and closer, getting to introduce themselves to their own families. Pidge had congenial almost immediately with Shiro and her parents, and Keith had found a friendly rivalry with Matt when they met, the Holt family was always very kind to her when she visited them.

She had come to think illusively, that maybe her feelings could be reciprocated by that pretty girl with big glasses. But when she introduced her to Lance, she knew immediately that she would never have a chance with Katie Holt. Being rejected even before confessing.

Baby, I don't feel so good

Six words you never understood

Keith moaned audibly when she heard that song that resonated on the bar loudspeakers, preferring to go outside to light a cigar and stop complaining. Hunk preferred to remain silent and accompany her. Anyway, he had lost his friends for many hours, and being with Keith to relive old times was much more fun.

Four days has never felt so long

If three's a crowd and two was us

One slipped away

When Keith reached the door and lit the first cigar of the night, she felt that her chest was hit by a person. She was, in general, a fairly tall woman compared to the average, thanks to her mother's Russian heritage, so it used to happen regularly that low women tended to hit her by accident.

I just wanna make you feel okay

But all you do is look the other way, mm

But when she looked down, she realized it was Pidge who had decided to bury her face between her chest. While holding her tightly around her waist.

I can't tell you how much I wish I didn't wanna stay

I just kinda wish you were gay

Keith groaned defeated when her heart was painfully compressed, the damn girl was stupidly adorable without even trying. She had fallen so deep for her. Hunk for his part preferred to ignore them and go to Shiro when he saw him in the distance sitting in one of the chairs.

Is there a reason we're not through?

Is there a 12 step just for you?

Our conversation's all in blue

''Keith, I feel dizzy.''

''That's because you've been drinking too much, shorty.''

She responded like a big sister scolding her for her bad behavior, she was drunk up and could barely stay on her own feet. Keith looked up and saw Shiro laughing with Adam when he greeted Hunk in a warm embrace, the idiot hadn't realized how much Pidge had drunk while flirting with his co-worker.

To spare my pride

To give your lack of interest an explanation

Do not say I'm not your type

Keith took her by the waist with one hand, while with the other she took her cigar to exhale the smoke away from her face, walking towards an area where they wouldn't interrupt the way of the people who walked around. Pidge watched her, curious, with those big eyes full of life while leaning much more on the body of Keith.

''Keith, Keith ...'' She repeated, again and again when she staggered around her body, Keith breathed trying to find some patience. ''Why do you have a boy's name?''

''I already told you, my mother thought it was nice and neutral.''

''I like it.'' Without realizing, Pidge took her cigar to take a deep breath while briefly closing her eyes. Keith looked at her resignedly, had definitely drunk too much. ''It's strange, like you.''

''Thank you?'' Responded resentfully. So Pidge stroked the outline of her cheek with a downcast look.

''No, don't get mad, I mean I like it, like you. It's the best name ... I swear it.''

''I understand you, Pidge. It's okay.''

Just say that I'm not your preferred sexual orientation

I'm so selfish

But you make me feel helpless, yeah

Keith had to do something with Pidge's hands. She was being too cheeky stroking her while wiggling around her. She had to be patient, wherever she was, or else she could do something that would end their friendship. Keith couldn't help but, inside her mind, an inner voice told her that it was what she wanted, that she was tempting her to kiss her and take whatever she wanted from her.

I just wanna make you feel okay

But all you do is look the other way

I can not tell you how much I wish I did not want to stay

But Keith knew it was impossible. She told herself to discourage her real intentions. Even with Pidge's breath gently touching the contour of her collarbone, and her hands holding her waist tightly to try to bring her closer to her body, in a vain attempt not to fall cause of her drunkenness.

''You're the only good thing I have left in this life.'' Pidge said, dragging the words in her mouth. ''I'd be so lost if you left me, Keith... Never get mad at me, please.''

''I would never get mad at you.'' She answered while watching her take the last puffs of her stolen cigar. ''I love you so much to get away from me.''

''Seriously?'' Pidge asked temptingly, with a cheeky smile when she got closer and closer to her. ''How much do you love me, Keith? More than Lance?''

''Of course more than Lance!''

That name bothered her for a moment, seeing herself being compared to him didn't generate a good taste in her mouth, much less in a situation where she had so close to Pidge that the distance became tiny, almost reaching to taste her lips. If Keith was close enough, surely, she could ...

''You know? Every day I wonder ... Again, and again, something that hasn't let me sleep.''

''Oh yeah? What?'' Whispered, without breaking eye contact with those golden eyes that just kept open.

''Something that makes me think you would be mad at me if I told you ...''

''I will not get mad.''

''Because you love me.'' Pidge replied Keith nodded. ''But maybe... Sometimes when you're so good to me, I wonder ... How would it have been to kiss you instead of Lance that night ...''

''Kiss me ...'' Keith repeated, drinking from the image she had of Pidge at that moment, with her lips open, her face flushed, and her eyes needy. ''You are drunk.''

''Yes.'' Shrugged. ''But I also imagine it, again and again, as it would have been, and the next night, and the next, and the next ...''

Their lips collided as they both approached, gently, unhurriedly. Being so natural that at no time did they feel bad with the touch of the other. Slowly savoring the taste of their mouths, they held each other tightly when they felt the taste of black vodka and tobacco mingling with each other, like something toxic, intoxicating, suffocating in brief moments when they didn't go away in a long time.

I just wish you were gay

Pidge closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by the moment she had waited so long since she realized that her feelings weren't purely platonic. Keith never did, thinking that if she closed her eyes and lost the image of her at any moment, it would vanish like a broken dream.

I just wish you were gay

It was a kind and slow kiss, which was repeated that night before and after leaving the bar. Continued in Keith's apartment when they needed a little more privacy, and continued, again, and again, and again...

#peith #kidge #kidgefanfic #monthofkidge #kidgeapalooza #kidgeapalooza2019 #keithkogane #keith (voltron)#female keith #lesbian au #katieholt #pidge gunderson #hunk garrett

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alitoowell · 6 years

Text

One year—365 days—and still I cannot find the words to do justice to the magnitude of gratitude that I feel, and will forever feel, for the magic that was October 22, 2017. It’s funny because meeting Taylor was always in my mind as a possibility. In that people DO meet her, so it’s possible. But I always viewed it as possible, yet unachievable. People would meet her, but they wouldn’t be ME. Simply because the odds were too great of being noticed or picked from a crowd. So I never planned out how it would go, or where, or what I would say, which left me even more absolutely floored when it happened. Even a year later my brain cannot quite wrap around the fact that the woman who I’ve looked up to since I was 15, who’s music has been the soundtrack to my life for an entire decade, had me over at her house? I got to hug her? Dance with her? And listen to her entire unreleased album and the stories behind it? That seems unbelievable. And it will always seem unbelievable because people. don’t. do. that. But Taylor does. My friends have been encouraging me for a whole year straight to type everything out, and I never quite got there. The task seemed too great, I didn’t know where to start, or what words to choose to capture those memories adequately. In one of those moments of frustration I realized I actually already had written nearly everything—in the no less than 63 messages I sent to my best friend Shaina less than 24 hours later on October 23, 2017. Though it’s jumbled and not perfect in any way and contains the misspellings and keyboard smashes and all, here’s my Taylor story, a year later, as told the day after it happened—in message form.

I MET TAYLOR SWIFT SHDJEKJDKROF

I CANNOT BELIEVE MY LIFE

I HAVEN’T CRIED YET BUT ITS 4 AM AND I THINK ITS FINALLY HITTINGME

photo of wristband

SHE FUCKING DANCED WITH ME DURING LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO LIKE GRABBED MY HAND AND JAMMED WITH ME AS I WAS SHOUTING THE LYRICS GOODBYEEEEEEE

photo of merch

GOODBYEEEEEEEEE

Shaina: You’re lying

IM NOY IM NOT OH MY FOD OH MY FREAKINF GOD

PARKER THOUGHT I WAS DRUNK OF SOMETHING CUZ I WAS SHOUTING VIA TEXT ASKING IF HE WAS UP HOLT SHIT

Shaina: Ok. Spill. I’m shook.

Okay okay so I’m literally about ready to pass out I haven’t slept well since finding out last week and legit got two hours of afterwards last night, well this morning ahhh

And about to board my flight but I’ll try to type quick

So basically her team DMed me last Tuesday saying they’ve noticed what an amazing fan I am and asked for my information

And people have been making fake TN accounts and sending fake messages to be awful, and I thought it was fake because I never expected to ever be contacted

So I’m like in the gym parking lot thank god I didn’t see it while I was still at work

And I realize it has a blue verified check and that it’s legitimate and the last questions was have you ever met Taylor and I LOSE MY SHIT IM IN HYSTERICS IN THE CAR AND CALL MY MOM AND SHE THINKS I GOT IN AN ACCIDENT

So basically I’m a freaking ass mess because I’m 99% it’s for a secret session since at that point one had happened and we all assumed that there would be more cities, and I was almost positive they would NOT send that message to someone and not follow through and call and tell them SOMETHING

So I can’t sleep I leave my phone on cuz I don’t want to miss a call

It of course doesn’t come til the next day while I’m AT WORK

And they freaking ass knew my twitter and tumblr and asked for all my socials and I now know the people I talked to weren’t asked that so that’s weirddddd

Anyway so sure as hell it’s a ‘very special event’ and it’s all too secret and I can’t tell anyone except a parent for safety

And once I confirm I can get myself to LA she gives some instructions and said final details will be emailed

And so that was Wednesday and I’m crying at work and their dinner was late lol

And I called my mom and was like this weekend Sunday book flights nowwwww

And then the quick version is for the next two days I was practically puking every day so nervous and the email wasn’t coming and I was like shitttttt

So finally on Friday I straight up call Taylor Nation back and get straight through and say my name and she’s like what’s up?! And she says they’re coming out later that day

And so I flew down Saturday and I rented my very first car and took my first legit solo trip in the name of Taylor freaking swift honestly I’m not surprised

And bless Briana’s fam’s heart they were out of town but let me stay in their guest apartment while they were away with no explanation so that was very nice and less stress for me

And then I had to sit from 3:30 Saturday until 5:15 Sunday in LA by myself unable to tell anyone and it was wilddddddd

Like I was like sweeeeeet I can get caught up in my journal!!! Noooo I deadass sat there and felt like I was dying and about threw up hourly like how the freaking hell do you just casually chill when you know your damn outlandish never thought it would occur dream is about to happen and not only that but like on a times 100 scale?!?!

So basically I went to her damn house and we hung out by the pool and ate food and the weirdest part is I’ve been unable to eat and have been panicking all week but the second I got to the first check point and to her house even more I was just like chillllll like ayeeeee this is gonna be fun omg I’m so hungry and let’s eat all this food

And so basically it’s a listening session for the new album and we obviously can’t say anything about it or what she said about it besides like probs that it’s AWESOME OUTSTANDING IS GONNA SLAY THE WORLD AND SHES SO LROUD OF IT AND MY BABY DID THAT AND IM REAL PROUD

Okay okay but she like explained each song in-depth and was the cutest cupcake singing along fully jamming to everything and like looking at everyone the entire time and locking eyes as she’s singing ya feel

My flight is about to leave but I will continue later!!!!!

Shaina: This is insane I can’t believe it I’m beyond stoked for you safe travels and talk soon

Okay we not leaving quite yet sooooo I’m missing parts. So we are told we’re gonna go inside and sit down and I book it fast to get a spot on the ground like only two people sitting in front of me and there’s a red plush chair not even 10 feet away that she’ll obviously be sitting in and we’re all like sjedjekkdir

And I was wondering who all I would know there right!?? And was bummed there’s one girl I talk to frequently who loves Shawn Mendes and we know each other cuz she saw my Shawn poster on twitter and she’s from LA but I hadn’t seen her

And then someone pokes me and is like ALIIIIIIII AND ITS HER AND WE FLIP AND SXREAM SO LOUD THE WHOLE ROOM THOUGHT IT WAS TAY AND WAS PISSSSSSED AND SHUSHING US AND SOMEONES LIKE THEY KNOW EACH OTHER!!!!! HAHAHAHA

Shaina: This just keeps getting better and better. How did you keep this a secret?!?!?!?

Shaina: How many people were there

AND SO ANYWAY WE ALL THOUGHT TAYLOR WAS GONNA COME IN FROM THE FRONT AND SIT RIGHT DOWN??? AND ON THE BUS SOMEONE WAS LIKE YOOOOO WHAT IF SINCE TONIGHT IT’S IN LA SHE BRINGS FRIENDS????? AND SO SHE OF COURSE INSTEAD COMES FROM THE BACL AND THE DAMN ROOM EXPLODES AND SHE LOOKS LIKE A DAMN GODWESS AND SHE’S LIKE HIIIIIIIII AND GRINNING AND ALSO COMES IN JACK ANTANOF (SPELLING IDK IM CURRENTLY OFFLINE SO I CANT CHECK), TWO OF THE HAIM GIRLS, AND RUBY ROSE AND THE ROOM IS LIKE SHATTERING

AND SO SINCE SHE IN THE BACK SHE STARTS MAKING HER WAY THROUGHHHHHH US AND IS GRABBING PEOPLE AND PEOPLE ARE STANDING UP AND HUGGING HER AND HOLY CRAP

Okay lololol shoot I just woke up and didn’t realize the rest of this story was notttt in constant caps like I’ve been using all day my bad my bad

And so she’s playing the songs in order off the album and I think it’s okay to say that her and jack are losing their minds because they’ve never gotten to experience our reaction to new stuff they’ve worked on when they’re together, and definitely not together and in person, so she kept being like this is so cool for us you have no idea and he’s in the back confirming lololol

And so anyway she gets to Look What You Made me Do and she’s like soooo how do we want to do this??? Do we want to keep sitting do we want to dance…??? And we’re all like DANCEEEEEE SHDHIEOKRKR and shes like okayyyy we’re dancing and Shaina this is deadass like straight out of a dream. Actually wait no I couldn’t have imagined this, but she starts and I was anticipating part of this but not the whole thing…

So she obviously doesn’t just have us bopping along and staying and dancing on her own up front… she starts making her way into our basically tiny crowd and we’re so packed together that she’s grabbing people’s hands so she doesn’t fall as she goes. And she’s stopping and dancing with people and stops and stays dancing like staring at one guy and he’s going for it and not afraid and singing the lyrics dramatically right back to her….

And then she makes her way towards and wait for it

GRABS MY DAMN HAND AS SHE’S TRYING TO GET FARTHER INTO THE MIDDLE AND I’M LIKE OKAY OKAY JUST CHILL SHE JUST GRABBED MY HAND NO BIGGIE AND IM LIKE SHES GONNA KEEP WALKING LIKE THAT WAS MY MOMENT RIGBT?!?!

NOOOOOOOOOOO SHE STOPS THERE ONCE SHES BY ME AND IS DANCING WITH THE PEOPLE THAT ARE AROUND HER BUT HER BACK IS TO ME AT THIS POINT BUT IM STILL LIKE HOLY SHIT WHAT IS LIFE AND THEN SHE FREAKING ASS TURNS THE HELL AROUND AND IS DANCING! WITH! ME! LIKE! SHES! LOOKING! AT! ME! AND IM LIKE JAMMING OF COURSE AND SCREAMING THE LYRICS AND I LITERALLT DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN

And then Vanessa (my Shawn buddy) at this point has scooted up to me cuz everyone’s shifted and the people around me are like dude holy shit SHE DANCED WITH YOUUUUU

BYEEEEEEEEEEEE

Okay okay so after the whole album was played she gave us like the lowdown on the meet and greet portion and she passed out the target exclusive magazines for us to see while we waited and talked a bit about the making of them and why and things and she’s really pumped about them and they worked really hard to have them be affordable as possible and cut down the pages and things

And meanwhile like the whole night she’s so close that people would make comments and she’d hear and respond and it was so cute and amazing

Also I don’t think I’ve mentioned her outfit yet??? She’s been looking bomb at all of the other sessions and holy helllll she looked bomb like damnnnnnnnn she had on a black crop top and these high waisted and slightly folded down camouflage pants and these black boots and her hairrrrrrr this era is like natural curls and soooo damn cute

Okay okay so anyway we thought it was a greattttt idea to wait towards the end so we could stay longer and not go first and be done and sent home… yeah well it ended up being a not great idea because we ended up waiting two hours but I’m obviously not complaining one freaking bit

And she’s doing pictures in the other room so we can’t really see much for most of it but every so often we can see people talking to her and taking photos and it’s so cute it’d melt your hearttttttt

And so those of us that have bonded together at this point are like um shoooooot what pose and what the hell do I say to her??????? Like all week to my parents I was like ummmmm soooooo I’ve imagined this happening but like never thought it’d actually happen so unlike some people I had nottttt planned like a monologue of what I’d want her to know if I ever met her???? Like with Vance I was lost too but with my posters it was easier and I’ve seen him recently and yada yada but this is TAYLOR FREAKING SWIFT WHO IVE LOVED WITH MY WHOLE DAMN HEART SINCE I WAS FIFTEEN AND SHIT IM TEARING UP ON THE PLANE WHAT THE HELL DO YOU SAY TO HER WHAT DO YOU WANT HER TO KNOW YOU’VE GOT LIKE TWO MINUTES WITH HER GOOOOO

And so we were all really curious if she’d somehow recognize us because people have been saying that they walk in and she shouted their name! And I’m like idk if that’s gonna happen but might as well see if not just ask if she’s seen anything idk idk???

So okay buckle up for like the greatest time of my entire damn life

So I walk in and hug herrrrrrrrrrrrr

And I wish to god I can remember everything she said but I was focusing so hard on keeping it together and saying my bit that I know for sure what I said and can put together mostly something the general sentiment of what she said if not it exactly. So we’re huggingggg and I say I think hiiiii it’s so nice to finally meet you thank you for having me I’m so excited to be here or something and she’s like awww thank you for coming!! And I’m like I have to know how did we all get picked, was it by you or your team or how did it happen?? And I don’t know what the first part of her answer was but she says so the people from LA have been picked for about a year, and the people from elsewhere (I’m guessing with exceptions) have been picked more recently like within the past few months so like now I know it has nothingggg to do with whatever we’ve been doing online recently…. It’s from at least when she first came back if not before and they realized we were active while she was away….

And so I’m like okay ali say something else so I’m like so I really like making concert posters and the first ones I ever made were for you and shes like aw thank you!! And I’m like I realized other people were making posters and I’d been a RA and I was like hey I can make some really bomb posters tooooo. And so I’m like the fist ones said ‘Taylor someday we’ll meet you even if it’s just in our wildest dreams’ and she grabs me and is like AND NOW WE’RE MAKING IT HAPPEN!!! And so I say after I got the phone call I was in my car listening to Ready For It and started bawling when she sings ‘in my dreams, I know I’m gonna be with you’ cuz I knew it was actually happening and shes like awwwwwww or something you get the idea

And so then I straight up start talking about my dad???

I’m like so my dad loves you and she’s like omg and I’m like no he adoresss youuu and is so sad he couldn’t come and she’s like awww tell him hi!!! And I’m like he loves your Out of the Woods piano Grammy performance and I say how I’d found him listening to it repeatedly and he wanted it on his phone. And she’s like he sounds amazing! And I’m like he is he’s awesome lol and I’m like actually and so him and I went and saw you at F1 last year and of course I’m like and I made signs for there too and so I describe them IN DETAIL like what they said, I realized later I told her I was from Oregon, because I said they were the states and the dotted line and the paper airplane and I think she really liked that??? And as if that all isn’t already insane enough at some point in there I mentioned how this month has been insane and how I’d met Vance Joy and it was my birthday and now this and she said something excitedly about that like ahhh so much excitement or idk something about it. And so she’s like so what pose would you like to do? And I’m like I’ve really been going back and forth between just hugging or doing something sort of funny (low key said that hoping she’d be like girl let’s do both but lololol it’s okay) so she’s like it’s completely up to you!! And I’m like um um okay let’s just hug so she grabs me and we take the freaking photo and ahhhhhhhh

And so Vanessa and I had it planned out and she had me go first and at this point I was like would it be okay if my friend and I got a photo with you together and she’s like of course!! So V comes in and hugs her and we take one photo together and she squeezes us together tight and then I hug her one last time and thank her and say I love you so much (lol I had to throw it in other people forgot it and have been upset) and then I walk out and they hand me my merch bag and are directing me to the bus but I’m like can I wait for my friend and they’re like sure. So she comes out and she’s like SHE KNEW MY NAME SHSJEKOFN and she’s like yelling and I’m like shut up and I grab her and I’m like shhh shhhhh hahahaha and so we walk to the bus and it’s the funniest thing cuz they’re just waiting for it to be full so anytime someone new walks on everyone’s like SPILLLLLLLLL

And then once it was full we went back got our things, exchanged details with people on that bus and took photos and whatnot and turned our phones on to the madness anddddddd so well thats the story of the best damn day of my life

Taylor, thank you thank you thank for giving me such incredible memories that I’ve blown up the phones of every person I know, and have talked every person’s ears off that I’ve met during these past 365 days, about how special they are to me. Thank you for making it happen, thank you for holding my gaze so intently and being so genuine every second I was talking to you, thank you for bringing me some of the best friends I’ve ever had, thank you for being so prominent in the highlights of not only this past year, but this past decade. I love you forever, babe. Long, long live October 22, 2017.

#mine #my secret session experience #you're welcome isabell #10.22.17 #reputation secret sessions

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lucifercaelestis · 6 years

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when you wish upon a star

Read it on AO3

Summary:

Shiro gets a video message from Keith while he's on the way to Kerberos, but there's so much teasing. So much.

"Shiro!"

Shiro turned after the third time he heard Matt call his name, dragging his eyes away from the sight of Saturn's rings to indulge in whatever shit Matt was up to this time.

He remembered the last time Matt had gotten bored of listening to his playlist again and tried to pick a fight with Shiro (he called it a debate) over the superiority of Star Trek compared to Star Wars.

Shiro, being a die hard Star Wars fan, hadn’t been able to resist taking the bait. Every single time.

It had ended in disaster, even dragging Commander Holt into the fight, who'd unequivocally voted for Battlestar Galactica and threatened to space them if they continued.

"You've got a message," Matt said in a sing-song voice, dragging out the last syllable.

"From who?" Shiro asked. The Garrison had already sent their requisite video check up a few days ago, it was too early for another one, and he had no family left to send him messages.

He knew that Matt and Commander Holt looked forward to getting messages from their family, Mrs Holt and a little sister named Katie that Matt was ever fond of bragging about.

"Your little shadow, of course!" Matt exclaimed triumphantly.

His eyes widened in wonder. "Keith sent me a message?" He didn't bother correcting Matt's epithet for Keith; he knew they were friends in their own right, but Matt had insisted on calling Keith that after he'd seen the way Keith followed him around, and Keith had never protested the nickname, so Shiro left it alone.

He hadn't hesitated to put Keith down as next of kin, but he'd never thought Keith would use that to send him a message, even as his heart rose at the thought.

“Is Keith that nice boy you introduced us to, the day of the launch? You seemed very close,” Commander Holt piped in.

Matt rolled his eyes. “If by very close you mean Shiro wants to marry him and have his space babies, then yeah, they're 'very close'. But they’re hopeless. They were still dancing around each other when we left and I figure they're still gonna be dancing around each other ten years from now.”

Shiro sputtered. Yes, he liked Keith but he wouldn't describe it quite that way. “Space babies, Matt?” Shiro asked, not knowing what to say about the rest of the things Matt had said.

“Shut up, Shiro, I've been your third wheel for a year now and I don't even get the emotional satisfaction of seeing you guys being disgustingly happy with each other."

"Why do you call him Shiro's little shadow?” Commander Holt asked, finally drawn into the conversation.

"Because when Shiro made friends with him, after weeks of near stalking him I might add, you couldn't find Shiro without Keith following beside him, looking at him like he hung the stars. Not to mention, I'd been Shiro's friend longer but if I really needed to find Shiro, Keith was the only one who could find him," Matt complained jokingly.

"I see... and you say they haven't started dating yet?" Commander Holt asked, curious.

Matt nodded solemnly, hiding a grin.

"Son, you should have more faith in Shiro. I'm sure he isn't nearly as hopeless as you think he is,” he answered. Shiro was about to sigh in relief that at least someone thought better of him when Commander Holt continued, "He'll take 5 years at most."

“Commander!” Shiro protested. “I don’t–“

“I thought I told you to call me Sam, son,” Commander Holt– no, Sam– interrupted him gently. “Carry on, Matt."

Matt shook his head slowly in mock despair. "You haven't seen them together, dad. There's so much pining there a forest would be jealous, and the saddest thing is, I don’t think they even realise it."

Shiro could only watch in horror as they just discussed his non-existent love life right in front of him.

When he remembered the reason they'd gotten onto this topic in the first place, he jumped at the chance to exit the conversation.

As Matt and Sam watched him leave for the comm station to watch Keith's message with an excited light in his eyes and a skip in his step, it was obvious that they were both thinking the same thing: "Hopeless." ~ Shiro couldn't help brushing down his hair and taking deep breaths before he remembered that it was a pre-recorded message, not a video call. He spared a moment to hope that Matt and Commander Holt hadn't seen him do that before he cued the video to start.

Reflexively, he smiled when he saw Keith's face appear on the screen.

"Hey Shiro. I don't know what you said to Iverson to get him to allow this but he didn't even blink when I requested it, just sighed really tiredly for some reason."

He was relieved to hear that his talk with Iverson had worked and that his paperwork had gone through without a problem.

"Anyway, I beat your high score in that Saturn sim, the one you talked about still hanging into by the time you got back, so you owe me a space rock," Keith raised an eyebrow, smirking playfully. "You should be nearing Saturn by now too, right? Tell me what it's like later, I want to hear all about it."

It was good to see that Keith had been doing well in his absence, Shiro couldn't wait to see how much he'd advanced by the time Shiro got back.

"I almost forgot why I'm making this video in the first place. I'm not sure if you'll remember out there, or if you're busy with other things, but it's your birthday here so...uh, happy birthday," Keith said, looking away from the camera.

Shiro had to pause the video for a second, just to process the fact that Keith remembered his birthday and taking the time to wish Shiro for it too. How long had it been since someone had wished him a happy birthday? Long enough that he couldn't remember at least.

How he wished he could be with Keith right now on Earth. Maybe with Keith, his birthday didn't have to be a non-event, or a day that reminded him of disappointment and resignation.

It made him feel hopeful.

"I can't exactly give you a present right now for obvious reasons," Keith continued, a rare smile growing on his face,"so you're going to have to come back for it, alright? No excuses."

Spending his birthday with Keith would be a dream come true after so long spending it alone or not even bothering to remember it.

"I can't really talk for long, but I just wanted to say that I miss you, Takashi. Come back safe, I'll be waiting."

How was it, he asked himself, wiping tears from his face, that even after a year, Keith was still finding ways to make him cry?

Maybe Matt was right. He really was in too deep. But honestly, had he ever really stood a chance?

His birthday had never been an important part of his life, just a marker of getting older, but maybe with Keith, it wouldn't have to be that way.

He had no cake or candles, but there were stars all around him, so he indulged in the childish thought of making a wish anyway: that this time next year, he would be with Keith.

#voltron #sheith #shiro #keith #happy birthday shiro!!!#my writing #wanted to write something happy for him too #but if you read the tags you're gonna suffer #cuz he spends his next birthday in a galra prison fighting for his life #:)))

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was-agent-riy · 7 years

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Time to re-evaluate Rey’s playlist on Spotify

Romantic, platonic, either way... Reylo is very likely to be canon right now.

We, Reylos, as we already know it, are prophetic. So there were already many posts floating around about Reylo being indicated in Rey’s playlist.

After the trailer dropped, I decided to listen to Rey’s playlist again when I go to/back from work well thats quite a short time. Now I find it rather comical that we really have these songs RIGHT under our noses because it’s just so obvious.

These are some of the songs that I find 100000% reylo-esque:

WILD by Troye Sivan -- Personal favorite because I didn’t know this song until it played randomly while I was driving, and I heard a very Reylo part and just screamed “HECK” at the traffic light. We’re alike you and I Two blue hearts locked in our wrong minds So can we make the most out of no time? Can you hold me? Can you make me leave my demons and my broken pieces behind? Leave this blue neighbourhood Never knew loving could hurt this good, oh And it drives me wild 'Cause when you look like that I've never ever wanted to be so bad, oh It drives me wild

Shut Up and Dance by Walk The Moon -- I actually think this is about Kylo towards Rey because the situation just FITS. We were victims of the night The chemical, physical, kryptonite Helpless to the bass and the fading light Oh we were bound to get together Bound to get together She took my arm I don't know how it happened We took the floor and she said Oh don't you dare look back Just keep your eyes on me I said you're holding back She said shut up and dance with me This woman is my destiny She said oh oh oh Shut up and dance with me

No One by Alicia Keys -- the whole sONG ACTUALLY SCREAMS REYLO PLS CHECK When the rain is pouring down And my heart is hurting You will always be around This I know for certain You and me together Through the days and nights I don't worry 'cause Everything's gonna be alright People keep talking they can say what they like But all I know is everything's gonna be alright No one, no one, no one Can get in the way of what I'm feeling No one, no one, no one Can get in the way of what I feel for you, you, you Can get in the way of what I feel

Omen (feat. Sam Smith) by Disclosure You were waiting, I was vacant You left before my eyes Then it hit me, you're relocating And I need you by my side It's an omen Caught my baby crying Saw the silver lining It must be an omen Needed you to show me Without you I am lonely My mind would rule my heart I didn't pay attention to the light in the dark It left me torn apart But now I see your tears are an omen

Army by Ellie Goulding Dark times, you could always find the bright side I'm amazed by the things that you would sacrifice Just to be there for me How you cringe when you sing out of tune But yet it's everything So don't change a thing We both know what they say about us But they don't stand a chance because When I'm with you When I'm with you I'm standing with an army I'm standing with an army

Sound of Your Heart by Shawn Hook -- Force bond, anyone? You showed me heaven, you rang up bells I played with matches, it hurt like hell Asleep and wake, you're all I see I can't escape you, can't set you free I miss your full moon rising, catching a breath in silence Can't stop this bleeding, can't stop believing I'm missing the sound of your heart beating Baby I'm in love with you Oh, I'm missing the sound of your heart beating Baby you were mine to lose Oh, I'm missing the sound of your heart beating Missing you, missing you I'm missing the sound of your heart beating

Actually this has became a very long post. So I’m gonna deny my urge to put relevant parts of the lyrics and make a list instead because there are sO MANY SONGS.

We Found Love by Rihanna & Calvin Harris -- Say no more, it’s just so obvious

Set Fire to the Rain by Adele -- COme on this song hAS BEEN EVERYWHER IN MY LIFE AND IT’S OBVIOUSLY REYLO

Battlefield by Jordin Sparks -- Relevant. Just very relevant.

Compass by Zella Day -- Compass here mean force bond right i got it

Phoenix by Olivia Holt -- A song to give each other support

Bang Bang by Jessie J -- Actually no I just wanna say that Rey & Kylo need to bang. I know they want it.

Adventure of a Lifetime by Coldplay

A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay

Smoke and Fire by Sabrina Carpenter

Our Own House by MisterWives

#Reylo #Rey's spotify playlist #rey #kylo ren #the last jedi #BEN SOLO #star wars

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ckcz · 7 years

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100 questions ask game

I was tagged by @mysmoldarkfictionalsons <33 I tag @surelance @spacemcclain @k3ithkogane @bobaphichit and @angst-in-space and all my mutuals/followers :D!! You don’t have to do it but seems like a nice way to know ny’all better :’)

1: When you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? more cereal!

2: Do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? what is a wintery day all I feel is humidity and tears

3: What random objects do you use to bookmark your books? random receipts

4: How do you take your coffee/tea? Coffee- cold!!! with a like 2 spoons of cream and a LOOT O sugar

5: Are you self-conscious of your smile?

My laugh mostly but I guess they’re similar?

6: Do you keep plants?

Yess my home balcony has many

7: Do you name your plants? No??

8: What artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Drawing drawing painting but not digitally? like sometimes I just take a watercolor paper and attack it with a paintbrush to vent

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? I can’t hum! idk why so I singgg

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? stomachh

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? A beach potato flew around my room and a skeleton wants to bone me

12: what’s your favorite planet? ....earth...??? But I guess the next would be Saturn <3

13: what’s something that made you smile today? This little boy bumped into me and I went ‘ouch’ and he did this little gasp and held my hand I wanted to steal him

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? I have a feeling it would be really warm and fuzzy and a cupboard full of ready made soup powder cause I love soupp

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! If a baby was to be born in space, it would probably be born all deformed

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? ??? I’m uncultured

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? red and brown highlights just tbh but If I was allowed to be crazy, dark purple <3

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. well I apparently spray painted ‘sex’ in neon orange in the school bathroom in my old school and I once did this complicated dab dance in front of the class nobody lets me forget it

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? Oh yes I have a lovely black faux leather book and I just write random things that happened in the day or fanart ideas!! surprising amount of matt holt doodles

20: what’s your favorite eye color? Light brown or grey ugh I could melt

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. I don’t really have one?? but I do have this samsung laptop bag that has literally been with my like everywhere

22: are you a morning person? YES i love four am

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? drink cold coffee, lie on the bed and send stupid selfies to my friends

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? yes <3

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

In my old school there would be the fourth floor where people aren’t allowed to go and I was just curious okay and I looked inside and a shitload of mirrors??? i have no idea

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? this weird ass pink sandals that say new york city on them

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? strawberry I guess?

28: sunrise or sunset? SUNRISE <3

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? This one girl randomly uses her pointer finger to just *flipflopflipflopflipflop* the tip of her nose and then she like blinks twice its so fucking cute okay

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? No

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. they succ. no? NO!?? yes. socks are weird even the word is weird I dislike them

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. not much to say sadly but this one time on a sleepover we got bored staying awake so we went to the neighbouring 24/7 store and got icecreams and then fell sick it was nice

33: what’s your fave pastry? I guess a.. brownie? I’m not that into baked stuff?

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? didn’t have many wasn’t attached to them...

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? yeS YES YES

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? I think? U2 for some reason

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? clean... :( but im weak

38: tell us about your pet peeves! people not closing the door

people stopping your music to talk to you

people putting a babY ON THE PHONE TO TALK TO ME

39: what color do you wear the most? greyyyy i love wearing grey

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? i have this one pretty crystal pendant that i bought on a roadtrip i love it

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? simon vs the homo sapiens agenda

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! the starbucks at the mall? Its ceiling is covered in pipes and stuff for the electricity or heat or whatever but it has really comfy couches i love it

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? My dog.. but a person? I guess this girl in my apartment who I sometimes just roam around with

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? last summer

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? No not really I seem to think about consequences a lot more lately but if I’m feeling it, yES

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. what’s up? - The ceiling.

I HATE THIS WITH MY ENTIRE BEING PEOPLE WHO SAY THIS SHOULD GO TO HELL AND BACK cause im mericful

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? tomatoes. die

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? leaving for college. No

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? idk i dont

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? bookmaRKS i have like 200 of them

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? never come back again by austin

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? cowboy hat!

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? I don’t really care too much?

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? my mom

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? yell ‘kavya is a bich’ into the school on the third floor

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? when it’s people i LIKE? them

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? that song was my childhood so I love thhsdkjhsjkd just sang along

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? I’m wine mom! S is vodka aunt bc it just fitss

59: what’s your favorite myth? apollo and hyacinthus

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? I guess? I like phenomenal women

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? I gave a potato and received a small mirror that said -u r bootiful- on the back

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? nahh

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? my bookshelves are BEAUTIFUL ilovethem and I just have my music playlists so??

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? pastel blueee

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? yes

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? white flowers <3

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? aweSOME i have a special playlist for days like that

68: what’s winter like where you live? its rainy

69: what are your favorite board games? TERRA MYSTICAAAA and jenga

70: have you ever used a ouija board? nahh

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? I don’t really drink tea?

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? YES OMG

73: what are some of your worst habits? my hands always get too excited so I fiddle a lot and tend to tear the edges of pages

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. the most reflective pretty eyes I’ve seen. has the best heart in the whole word. literally the embodiment of good and pure

75: tell us about your pets! HER NAME IS AMBER SHE’S A SHIHTZU I WOULD DIE FOR HER AND IF YOU HURT HER I’LL KILL YOU SHE’S THE BEST THING IN THE WHOLE GODDAMNED WORLD

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? writing an exam tbh it doesn’t count though

77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink I had it once I liked it a lot

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? *walks away* don’t include me in your shenanigans

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? So I was about to leave my old school right? last day was over, finals were done, and the reality that I would lose all of them was just settling in. so I think my mom noticed I was depressed and she called up ALL of my friends in my group of pals and they came over even though they live all so far away and I was editing percy in a video and they just hugged me from behind I laughed and yelled i miss them

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? everything is purple I have purple wardrobes and walls and doors and yes. I did choose this color? Because I wanted blue but I also wanted pink at that age so I mixed them in and decided on purple!

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. water at zero gravity

82: are/were you good in school? Yesss

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? I love michl’s art? And Eden’s

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? Maybe two! Idk I’m just a young potato I’ll see to it later

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? I guess! I love asterix&obelix and tintin and I love omg check please and sharp zero

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

I listen to some of my dad’s so pink floyd’s I guess

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? The lion king movies and Fantastic Mr. Fox

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? Im too asleep for this

89: are you close to your parents? yeah

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. I LOVE KUALA LUMPUR its’adjabjkabkjadsbjaksd

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? NO WHERE i’m going to get a 10 cgpa and kick school in its ass

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? CHEESEEEEEEEE

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? two pony tails!

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? this old friend of mine

95: what are your plans for this weekend? study for finals

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? pretty quickly

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? INJP, capricorn and I’m a slytherin!

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? last summer with my family and yeah

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. any Eden song tbh I just scream and now that Jo reminded me I’m crying to little wonders

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? five years into the future I’m just too scared to go through everything that happens in the next five

#stfu kavya

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Wynonna Earp Season 4, Episode 6 Review: Holy War Part Two

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This Wynonna Earp review contains spoilers.

Wynonna Earp Season 4, Episode 6

You can love a narrative choice that a show makes without loving what it means for a specific character. If I knew Wynonna Earp in real life, I, like Doc Holliday, would be seriously afraid for her following her choice to shoot Sheriff Holt in the back, after he agreed to try to work towards ending the long-running feud between the Earps and the Clantons. But, as a fan and reviewer of this show, I love this choice that the Wynonna Earp writing team made. It implies a kind of ambition in this series’ Season 4 storytelling that is all-too-rare in genre TV, and I hope this show finds the narrative time to devote to it. Let’s talk about this bittersweet, amazing, accidental midseason finale…

Doc’s storyline last season was one of the weakest part of an otherwise pretty great Season 3. It wasn’t always clear what his motivations were and the TV show never really justified the decision to turn him vamp. While I’m still worry that turning Doc into a creature of the night was one twist too many for a character who already has a history of delicious knots to untie, his arc in Season 4 has been a good one, especially in the last few episodes as he begins to seriously question if his loyalty to Wyatt Earp, most often proven through killing at Wyatt’s side and in his stead, was worth the pain that it has caused himself and others. Actually, he’s not really wondering at this point. He’s coming to the realization that it was not, just as Wynonna is coming to the assumption that shooting first and asking questions later is the only way to ensure the safety of her family.

These are two characters who obviously love one another, but who can never quite get the timing right. To see them head in different directions again, ones that will presumably keep them from being together in any honest, healthy way for the near future, is both heartbreaking and excellent storytelling. This division works because it is led by their characterization, not by an arbitrary plot mechanic. Do I believe that having the Clantons back in town, a family whom Doc chose to kill for Wyatt all those years ago, adding fire to a war that would continue on for more than a century-long war, has Doc rethinking his past choices? Absolutely. Do I also believe that Wynonna, in the wake of finding out that the Clanton family tried to buy her baby, and after years of fighting to keep her family safe, would shoot Sheriff Holt in the back rather than trust that anything would change, after a lifetime of learning the lesson that bloodshed and betrayal is the norm? Of course.

I understand both of their choices, even as a grieve for Wynonna as she takes a step down a path that will surely lead to more pain, for herself and for others (because the two are always inextricably intertwined, even if our culture of toxic individualism would have us believe otherwise). As we see in the final scene, it already has. Wynonna is crying for the rift in her relationship with Doc, sure. She’s crying because Waverly is so happy, and that’s all she wants for her baby sister. She’s crying because she’s tired, because how could she not be? But you better believe that she is also crying for herself. Because she just shot a (human) man in the back, as he was walking away from her. Because she just chose fear over hope. And that’s a very lonely place to be.

This agonizing middle for Wynonna hits extra hard because it is juxtaposed with a #happymiddle for Waverly and Nicole. After months of being separated and weeks (how much time has passed since the time jump?) of Nicole being terrified that Waverly would reject her after finding out what she had done, these two finally got the timing right in a way that Doc and Wynonna are nowhere close to doing. Waverly kills Margo “Mam” Clanton and it will no doubt stay with her in some traumatizing ways, but it was a very different situation. To save Nicole, a good person and the love of Waverly’s life, Waverly has to kill Margo, a woman who more or less murdered her own, teenage son, has no qualms with letting Nicole die, and has made it her life’s purpose to make the Earps and anyone who loves them suffer. To say that killing someone would ever be an easy choice for Waverly Earp would be oversimplifying the situation, but I don’t think for a minute that Waverly regrets her decision. Not in the way Wynonna seems to.

Earlier in this episode, Wynonna tells Rosita that sometimes the hero has to kill, and, in the context of supernatural TV, I don’t think she’s wrong. Too many shows that have violence as part of their narrative formula, from superhero television to other kinds of high-stakes genre storytelling, pretend that death isn’t often a natural consequence of violence. They pretend that a character presented as a hero, someone like Oliver Queen or Bruce Wayne, could have the kind of god-like control that would allow them to enact violence against those who “deserve it,” but always be able to stop short of death, and that this distinction absolves them of all accountability. This is often done as a way to draw a simplistic line between the “good guys” and the “bad guys,” so that stories that use violence don’t have to dive into a more earnest exploration of the hero’s violent methods and the harm they cause to both themself and others in their doling out of “justice.”

Violence is such an accepted, uninterrogated part of so much of American culture, we often accept its unexamined inclusion in so much of our mainstream storytelling as our status quo. (And, while I know this is a different situation, seeing a character shoot another character in the back as they are walking away has a particularly loaded meaning in American culture right now.) I’m eager to see Wynonna Earp walk a different, more difficult yet more rewarding path when it returns, and to dive into a more complex exploration of what it means for a character like Wynonna, ostensibly our hero, to kill someone outside of the justification of self defense. What a bold storytelling choice. What a way to head into our midseason hiatus.

Additional thoughts.

Peacemaker’s back, baby! (Now I feel conflicted about this, though. I missed Peacemaker and I want Wynonna to have a sense of purpose, but I don’t want her to think that killing is all that she’s good for, you know? Maybe Peacemaker could transfigure into something else besides a weapon and reveal Wynonna’s new purpose as a… something.)

Real talk? I don’t think what Nicole did was so bad, especially as she didn’t ever seem actually willing to hand Doc over to the Clantons.

Last episode, Nicole’s situation was all Ron Weasley in Chamber of Secrets. This week, it’s all Olivia in Fringe.

The Ghost!Nicole/frog shenanigans first part of this episode was fun, but didn’t totally work tonally for me. The episode started out by taking Waverly’s distress over Nicole’s (temporary) death seriously, and then tried to transition into a “goofy shenanigans” vibe. It stressed me out that Jeremy and co. didn’t seem to go through the plan in a little more detail before they, you know, drowned Nicole, and felt out of character for this crew. (Nedley was perfect, though. Never change, Randy.)

That being said, Nicole was a straight-up ethereal ghost. And I loved getting to see Waverly be the hero in this episode, though I hope we see some processing of the fact that she killed Margo in coming episodes.

At first, I was worried that Wynonna Earp was going down the “mean girls” path with Rosita. (I never should have doubted you, show.) While the episode plays with the idea that society wants to pit Rosita and Wynonna against each other in a petty “catfight,” the story eventually subverts that trope, having these two complex women band together to take on Mother Medea, a very scary demon nun. I don’t believe that these two would be friends after what Rosita did, but I also don’t think that Rosita is without complexity or that Wynonna’s soft spot for “scorned women” wouldn’t work in Rosita’s favor in this case. I’m glad the show landed somewhere in the complicated middle, as if so often the case in real life and so rarely the case in mainstream storytelling (written by men).

I hope we get to check back in with Rosita and the nuns in future episodes. As much as their current situation is better than their previous deals, I wouldn’t exactly call it a happy ending to be stuck in this nunnery for all time.

I’m not sure if this show knows what to do with Jeremy as a character. He really did ghost Nicole, and I hope the show delves into that a bit more.

“2 Becomes 1” is a highly underrated Spice Girls song. Yes, I am listening to it right now. Yes, I still know all the words. Yes, I am always here for this show’s subtle agenda to celebrate pop music that is loved by teen girls and therefore derided by “mainstream” culture. Yes, Nedley is the best and canonically loves Pretty Little Liars and Spice Girls. Yes, that demonstrates how at home he feels in his various identities. Yes, this kind of representation is important too.

As painful as it is to see Wynonna make her choice, it is so heartwarming to see Doc choose himself and the healthy path in a way we haven’t seen him do before. Especially because it puts him in a better position to support Wynonna moving forward, should she ask for his help. It has been Doc’s instinct to put his relationship with the Earps before his own sense of morality, and that hasn’t helped anyone really.

It seems redundant at this point to talk about how talented this cast is, but special kudos to Melanie Scrofano and Tim Rozon in that final scene, having to balance the sorrow they were feeling for themselves and one another and the joy they were feeling at seeing Nicole and Waverly so happy and at being part of this family.

See you all on the other side of the hiatus, Earpers. It’s sunnier there.

The post Wynonna Earp Season 4, Episode 6 Review: Holy War Part Two appeared first on Den of Geek.

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vanchlo · 3 years

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The Partner / Chapter Eight, "The In Between"

Word Count: 6.1k words / Story Masterlist / Read The Assistant / Read on Wattpad / Song: Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses (click to listen)

P.S. - Next chapter will be coming on March 23rd, but I only know this because I've written it already :P Otherwise, I know that they are pretty random which I'm sorry for. Thanks for reading!

"People live with things they don't talk about hidden in their heart."

- Un-Go アンゴ

There, I stop, because I realize what I’ve done. I hear it in my words and in her weeping, the step that I shouldn’t have taken. Without knowing, I spoke in present tense, and knew that I’d only made it worse. It reminded us of what we couldn’t have- what we wouldn’t have. What should’ve been. Should be.

Her head shook from side to side, although belatedly. Her cries had quieted at moments too, that is until her head dove back against my chest, and they returned. I held her there, pressing my lips to her head and closing my eyes, being sucked back into my thoughts. The should’ve-beens made a regretful comeback, and as each one paid a reminder to me, so did a tear down each cheek.

Two Weeks Earlier

Despite the sunshine pouring in through the window, the sight of the glittering snow outside my window chilled me to the bone. Wrapping my arms around myself didn’t help as the cold seeped in through my cardigan.

“Cold, again?” somebody chuckles from over my shoulder.

“Yeah. God, can you turn up the heat in this place, or what?”

“I dunno, you’ve already had me turn it up three degrees t’day. Not sure my Dad brain will allow me anymo.’ Yer gonna make me heatin’ bill skyrocket here soon.”

“Harry,” I giggle, looking behind me to catch his face just in time for him to surprise me with a hug from behind. “Come on, the baby and I are cold. You better soon, or else I’m buying a space heater for my office.”

“Yer gonna be usin’ that kid as an excuse fer ev’rythin.’ Arentcha, Becks?” a shiver runs down my spine at the feeling of his beard against my temple, but it doesn’t compare to his freezing hands on my stomach.

“Yes, because are you trying to make me turn into an icicle with those hands of yours?”

“What, I jus’ got back from lunch. ‘s winter outside, don’t y’know?”

“Wow, I had no idea,” I reply snarkily with a nod to my window before us.

“Watch it, sassy pants, or ‘ll keep those churros fer myself.”

The scoff is already curling my lips when I turn around, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would,” Harry contests, raising a brow at me until it all dissolves into his wheezy laughter. “Hey, put that pout away, sweetheart.”

“Don’t try to butter me up, mister,” I mutter, turning away from his waiting arms. His tongue clicks in response but I ignore it, starting for my phone that rings.

“Becks, I was only kiddin.’ Y’know I wouldn’t take away yer churros, love, they’re yer favourite,” he begins, but for some reason that really annoyed me. It doesn’t help when he takes hold of my hand, rooting me to the spot. “Hey, Crabby Pants, yer phone can wait. They can leave a message, but I wanna talk t’ my fiance.”

“What?” I mumble, facing him at last. The corners of his lips lift, and his contagious happiness is hard to resist.

“‘m sorry fer teasin’ you. ‘ll see ‘bout turnin’ tha heat up on this side, and yer churros are waitin’ in me office. ‘d never deprive my baby’s mum o’ her favourite food. No, not my wifey.”

“You better not,” I sigh, giggling against his lips when they press to mine. The gold flecks in his sage-colored irises catch the light when he looks down at me. Sometimes, I still wonder how the sunshine on his face could all be for me.

“I won’t,” Harry hums, reminding me of his own little ray of sunshine when his hand comes to my belly. “Ya should be careful with those churros, I think yer startin’ t’ show.”

“Am not.”

“Are to. Ya had a li’l bump this mornin’ when we were gettin’ ready. I saw it in tha mirror in tha bathroom when you were changin.’ Cutest thing I ever did see,” he coos, painting my face in thick strokes with that radiant smile of his. “Boobs are gettin’ bigger and bum too. ‘m likin’ this whole pregnant thing on you mo’ and mo’ ev’ry day.”

“Of course, you are,” I whisper, feeling the smile drain from my lips when the light catches it. The doctor said they’d fade with time, but three months on and the pink lines still won’t let me forget that nightmare I can’t escape. I saw them every day, in the shower with him or when I watched him get dressed beside me in the bathroom. The mornings when I woke up before him and dragged a finger across his tattoos. He was lucky that none of them were ruined by the numerous stitches, but they got by unscathed. I just wish I could say the same for everything else, for me.

“Hey, where’d that pretty smile go?” Blinking, I focus my gaze back on the dimples that fall into his cheeks.

“Your scars, they’re still . . ,” my train of thought disappears, because it’s nothing that I haven’t said before.

“Still there. I know, they jus’ don’t go away, buggie.” Frowning, his words sink in, but for maybe the fifth time. With a huff, I distract myself with the cream tie dotted with blush flowers that he picked out today. “Hey you, dontchu roll those pretty eyes at me.”

“I’m not.”

“But you are. ‘s it ‘cos somebody hasn’t had her churros yet this week?” his whiny voice grazes my ears from above. It’s difficult, but I control my lips and busy myself with picking a loose thread from his tie. “Becks, I see that smile,” he continues in a mocking tone, and soon I’m giggling against his neck as his nose drags along mine.

“‘Kay, baby, ‘m gonna go and grab yer lunch befo’ my meetin’.”

I whisper a ‘thanks’ against his lips before watching him disappear into the hallway. It’s not often, but my office is quiet, absent of the constant sounds of keys clicking, phones ringing, and a certain somebody being quite good at distracting me. Crossing the room, I plop down in front of my computer. The new messages showing on the side jump at my attention, but what grabs it is the picture frame beside it. With a smile that makes my cheeks ache, I pick it up to admire for the tenth time today. I’m sure that I’ll hit one hundred here, sooner or later.

“Think I like yer frame better, y’know.”

“Really?” I respond, lifting my eyes to Harry who sets down a greasy taco bag on my desk, a protein shake on the side. Don’t even get me started on how he’s already the nagging Dad.

“Ya, like the color and phrase better,” he notes, making me squirm from his hand on my side. It’s forgotten when it travels over to my belly, the exact place I hadn’t realized I’d laid a hand on too. “Can hardly believe it’ll be four months in two and a half weeks. We’re almost halfway there.”

“I know, it’s crazy to me.”

His mumbled agreement comes as I trace the lines of our baby’s profile over the frame’s glass partition. The same frame had sat on my desk for a while now, often updated with the newest sonogram picture after our latest ultrasound. One similar to it sat on Harry’s desk too, both a present from him. Several more occupied our fridge, phone lockscreens at times, and I’m sure in similar forms at both of our parents’ houses.

“Me too. I can’t wait tho,’ t’ be a dad.”

I didn’t think that my smile could get any bigger, but when I tip my head up to look at Harry hovering there, somehow it does.

“You’re going to be the best daddy.”

Sunshine fills every inch of his face, especially in the dimples caved into his cheeks. I hope our baby has those. Please.

“Why thank you. I feel rather lucky my kids get t’ have such a wonderful mummy too,” he notes with a quick wink, sponging a kiss to my forehead warmly. A few moments pass of admiring the picture until his voice interrupts my thoughts again. “Yer sure ‘s okay ‘m helpin’ My’ with that case in Bedford comin’ up?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“Won’t miss me too much, will you?”

Now, I don’t even bother to hide the way that I roll my eyes at him, accompanied by a sound of disgust. His nose wrinkles before his face creases in annoyance.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” I almost retort with a joking tone, until I melt at the way he rubs his nose against mine in what some call a kiss. “We’ve been over this, Harry, it’s fine. Skye can stay the night with me if I get lonely, or something. I know an opportunity to have another win against your arch enemy can’t be passed up.”

This time, I really stumped him. It brings a song to my lips, because it’s not often that I get to surprise him anymore. Sometimes, I miss those days, but I’d never go back to them. No, we didn’t have the sweet honeymoon period of first meeting, it was the total opposite. I’d never give up where we’d finally gotten to now, engaged and expecting a baby in a little over five months.

“He ‘s not.”

Still, the crease between his eyebrows remains and I only want to laugh more, “Is too. Malakai Watters is your arch enemy, Harry. You’ve been griping about him since I first met you, no excuse about it is going to work on me.”

Shaking his head, I already hear the argument coming my way, “Watters ‘sn’t my enemy, you silly one, he never has been. ‘ve never had any enemies.”

“Lies and more lies. I’m pretty sure we were enemies once, but you’ll excuse that one too.”

“Eh, I think I can agree with that one,” his face has relaxed and so has his shoulders that rise and fall softly. The green in his eyes lights up when he cracks a laugh from above, despite still being upside down for me. At last, he spins me around and pins me with his hands planted on my armrests. He always has to hog those, at movies and in the car. “Enemies? I dunno ‘bout that word, but you drove me bloody mad in the beginnin,’ so much so ‘s a wonder ‘m marryin’ you now. Wouldn’t have believed anybody if they’d told me back then you’d become my bride. Snotty li’l Holte, me personal assistant.”

“Harry!” comes my exclamation, and like always, followed by his innocent giggle. Innocent, my ass.

“Hey, you were jus’ as guilty, Becks, don’t go denyin’ it. You did everythin’ in the fuckin’ book t’ push me buttons.”

I’m laughing before him and unsure of how to stop until grabbing hold of his neck to press my lips to his. His laugh buzzes against my mouth, cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips. That little churro thief. The gold in his eyes is sparkling when we separate, my cheeks aching once more.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” my question comes in a mumbled sigh, eyes darting between his reddening cheeks and glistening eyes. Wait, what? “Harry, why are you crying?”

“Have I ever told you how lucky I am t’ have you tho’?” Giggling for a reason I don’t know why, I lose myself in those neverending greens for the hundredth time.

“Perhaps, but another time wouldn’t hurt my ego.”

A wry titter escapes his lips for just a second when the first tear glides down his cheek. One that I immediately catch with the pad of my thumb.

“No, I mean it. We fought like cats and dogs when we first met, and we hated each other,” he goes on in a voice leaking of that molasses once more. Mine begin to part until his terse shaking head tells me ‘no.’ “Hush you, don’t you lie either. I know we hated each other’s guts nearly, but outta nowhere, you became my best friend. A few hundred hiccups between then and now, and look at us, gettin’ hitched and havin’ a baby.”

“Yeah,” is all that I can come up with. More like the only words I can shove past my lips. Ones that already tremble from the emotion spilled from his sunshine eyes. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Reckon I have you t’ thank that fer, and loads mo,’” he corrects with wrinkled brows and a rub to my belly. Memories swim behind my eyelids as I kiss him back, hoping that if this is a dream after all, that I never have to wake up.

I wasn’t sure where I was anymore. No, this place I had never seen before with my two eyes, visited in my dreams, or travelled to in a book. Looking around me for some clue as to where I was, all I could see was golden trees, robin blue cloudless skies, and sunlight pouring in from every corner. It shined on my face and filled me with a warmth, one that I felt underneath my bare feet. When I peered down, my hands habitually went to my stomach but I found that it was completely flat once more.

A question filled my head instantly at the discovery, one that joined the many others of where I was, and everything that was around me. It all fell away instantly when something else took place inside of my head. I could never describe it to anybody or put my finger on it, but that feeling of mine told me that I wasn’t alone. Still with my hands on my stomach, I looked back up and found a young girl walking towards me. Sunlight shone down on her, following her as she walked through the kneehigh grass dotted with flowers. For a reason I couldn’t name, I didn’t want to look away from her in case she disappeared, but my attention was drawn to the beautiful field we were suddenly in. Wild flowers tickled my legs, reaching up to the lilac dress that fell to my knees and hugged the curve of my shoulders.

At the sound of rustling nearby, I glanced upwards once more to find her stopping a few feet away from me. There it was still, that feeling of mine, and as I stood there looking at her beaming up at me, I felt the way it filled my insides. There was something about her that I couldn’t figure out, but I feel like I should know who she is. I tried as I looked into her olive green eyes that sparkled with the secret she knew and I didn’t. A divot fell into one of her freckled cheeks as they rounded from her spreading lips. It sat there on the tip of my tongue as my feet led me forward, as if she was calling me to her. I didn’t know why or how I could, but I felt as if I knew her. This is what brought my hand forth to cradle her cheek, and thumb at the dark ringlets tickling her heart-shaped face.

She couldn’t be more than seven, a few years older than Harper. The second the thought appeared inside of my head, I wanted to shake it, knowing it couldn’t be. But as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around me, I felt the wetness descend onto my cheeks as she surrounded me with her sunshine like warmth. It felt as if I was hugging my younger self, because she was a spitting image of what I looked like, save for those green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against my dress where she nuzzled her head into my chest.

“What are you sorry for?” I asked in return, rubbing circles into her shoulder where the sleeves of her green dress ended, the same shade as her eyes. She didn’t offer an answer, only squeezed me tight before pulling away to look at me with furrowed brows. “What’s wrong?” the words spilled out when a tear raced down her cheek, her smile disappearing.

Again, she didn’t answer me, only hastily encircling me once again with her arms. Once more, questions danced around in my head, chasing answers that wouldn’t come, subconsciously or from this little girl. Somehow, I knew her and felt close to her, but I didn’t know how or why. She was beautiful and so sweet, I already knew but I wasn’t sure how.

An ache filled my chest when the next words left her lips, ones that I couldn’t begin to understand. “I’ll miss you.”

Instead of uttering another question that would go unanswered, I held onto her tighter, trying to make out what she had called me at the end there. It was a name, but not one I could remember now. The songs of birds flying overhead surrounded us, as did the trickling of a nearby stream, and a hummed song that I knew from somewhere. One he would always sing to me, but for some reason, I couldn’t recall who he was now.

“Who are-,” my long awaited question came, but it was torn away when I looked down to find my arms empty. In a confused blink, the grassy field decorated with flowers and sunshine was gone.

At my feet, sat cold tiling and the birds were no more. So was the sunshine and warmth. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around me, feeling very cold all of a sudden. Belatedly, I looked up and at my surroundings, wondering where I was now. A dimmed, empty room stared back at me, quiet from the sounds of the world until one broke through the silence.

A cry pierced my ears, and made me spin around. A door stood across the room to my right, where the sound came from. Without knowing what I was doing, my bare feet padded across the chilly floor, and I twisted the handle. Another room awaited me, but this one wasn’t empty. Nor was I alone.

Rows upon rows of hospital cribs stared back at me, little bundles of blankets sat in each one. Babies. They all were quiet except for one. My feet led me in that direction without me knowing it, because there it was again. My feeling. It guided me towards the sound, one that grabbed hold onto something deep inside of me. I knew what it was and what I heard, it was clear as day.

A smile shot up into my cheeks when I stopped at the cradle that held a squirming, crying baby. Its pink face was pinched from wailing, a blush colored hat covering its head as a striped blanket hid its body. But as I reached out to pick them up, I blinked and they were gone. Stepping back, I stumbled and righted myself. Where did they go?

Where’s my baby?

Tears clung to my eyelashes, blurring my vision as I stared at the empty crib. A divot in the miniature mattress stared back at me, and so did something else. My bottom lip wobbled as a briny tear ran over it, but it came to shake harder when I read the name card stuck to the inside of the rolling crib.

Annie S.

Before me, my hand trembled as I reached into the crib, feeling the corner of the card before-

“Becks, lovebug,” a voice murmurs, and the image is ripped away from me. With a jolt, I feel the warmth of a hand on my shoulder, rubbing a line down my back. I’m glad to have been woken up by him and torn away from that nightmare, but at the same time, I’m not. I wanted answers. “It’s time to get up and have a shower, my love. It’s six-thirty, you have to wake up soon so we can go to work.”

Gulping, nothing will go down as a ball sits in my throat. Peeling my eyes open, Harry and I’s familiar bedroom materializes before me. With a ragged breath that races to fill my lungs, a wetness paints my cheeks.

“You can sleep for a little longer, bug, but I’m going to hop in the shower, if you want to join me,” his whisper comes against my temple. Hastily, I turn to bury my face into the pillow, hiding my wet eyes. “Okay then, but you have to be up in half an hour,” Harry finishes, pressing his warm lips to the top of my head.

As I listen to the sound of his parting footsteps, I grasp onto the covers tightly. Only when I hear the spray of the shower and him close the door behind him, do I let loose my sobs into the pillow. I lie there, wondering, why the tears and what is that dream supposed to mean? I’d had weird pregnancy dreams before, vivid ones even, but nothing like that. No, never.

Who was that little girl, and how did I know her? And where had my baby gone, I think to myself as I rub at my belly, worrying away.

“Ree, what do you mean you’re not getting married?”

Rolling my eyes could not begin to convey the thoughts racing through my head, born out of her exclamation.

“Of course, I’m getting married, Skye. What, are you daft? That’s not

what I’ve said at all, if you’d been listening,” I tut with an unruly shake of my head, snapping the cap back onto the honey bottle. “You asked when the wedding was, and all I’ve said is that Harry and I don’t know with everything that’s changed. We had a date for August but cancelled it after we found out about the baby.”

The sofa sighs when I plop onto it, leaving my steaming mug on the table. My best friend of over twenty years tsks beside me, biting off the side of a cookie. Her faux disappointment is all but lost on her when her eyes brighten, cookie crumbs soon falling from her hands.

“Speaking of, let’s see that bump. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” she nearly squeals, reaching forward to lift my shirt.

“Goodness, Skye, assault me much? All you’ve got to do is ask, don’t need to be undressing me now,” my response comes in a giggle, one that soon falls away when her hands fly to her mouth. My lips soon slide into a smirk that I find hard to control at the sight of her, after lifting my shirt the rest of the way.

“Bloody hell, you do have a bump, and it’s getting big! Fuck, I wish my boobs were as big as yours. Totally unfair, that is.”

“I dunno what you and Harry are on about, I hardly see anything,” I remark with a shrug, the smile staying when her hand comes to rub my pale stomach. “I just look bloated.”

“Ree, come on,” she scoffs with a tilt to her lips that to my surprise, remains quiet as she stares at my stomach. “It’s more than just bloated, you idiot. You’re pregnant, you’re having a baby. Sure, it takes a while to show, but you’re starting to!”

“Hardly,” I chuckle, dropping my blouse once she leaned back against the pillow with her cup of joe. “It’s weird being at this awkward stage where I’m pregnant but I don’t look pregnant.”

“I can imagine, but hold on. Take a few steps back to the ‘not knowing when you’re getting married’ part. Do you and Harry really not know?”

“How are we supposed to?” it comes out in a laugh, not as I’d expected at all. “I’m due to pop this baby out around the same time we had it planned for in the first place.”

“So,” she begins whilst blowing on her coffee. Something clicks inside of me when that happens, along with the raise of her brow. “You’re just happy with waiting, and not knowing when it’ll be? That doesn’t sound like you, Ree.”

“Thanks for being depressing, Skye,” I try to say with a laugh, but it doesn’t go over well, because I can’t find one. No, if there was anybody else in the world who could read me like a book, it’s my first grade best friend. “No, I’m not really happy about waiting, but I’m excited about this baby, and what is being married besides vowing to date each other forever? No, it actually is okay. We’ll figure it out. Maybe we’ll randomly go to the courthouse one day- don’t worry, you’ll be invited, if we do. Or just wait and make it grand- you know, once I lose the baby weight or something.” I sip from my peppermint tea with a hand on my bump, knowing that I couldn’t be happier, but still wondering how we’re going to do all of this.

“Don’t be so sad, Ree, my god!” she exclaims with a playful swat to my shoulder. I laugh along with her, but as I stare into my tea, it doesn’t remain for long. She’d hit a nerve and with a cautious glance her way, I can tell that she knows it. “How’s about the house? The six bedroom and three bath with a grand yard, covered porch, marble kitchen island, fireplace, walk in closet, and dare I say, a pool?” she blabbers on in a posh sounding voice, making me laugh this time.

“Good, it’s um, good. I dunno what else to say, Harry’s the one who talks to the contractors and all,” I offer with an outstretched hand, unsure of my words.

“Come on, Ree, you’re building a bloody house!” her boisterous laugh comes. Her eagerness shows, as well as the three glasses of wine she had with dinner. I’m not sure the one cup of black coffee is going to help her much.

“I know, but I dunno- I more so just go over the plans with Harry and approve them, I guess?” I say with a large shrug of my shoulders. “There’s not much to update you on since you last asked about it. It’s a house, they take forever to build. I won’t get to have much fun with it until it comes to like, picking wallpaper and tiling.”

“Well, will it be ready by the time the baby comes?”

“I doubt it, but Harry keeps insisting it will,” I muse aloud, watching the ripples in the brown liquid when I blow on it, feeling the steam grace my cheeks. “It’s fine if it isn’t.”

“Your response to everything is ‘it’s fine,’ since when are you like that?”

Pressing my lips together, I lift my head to meet her curious stare, a tired one after that wine, “I’m just going with the flow, Skye. I’ve found it’s better than being upset about plans being changed. I wanted to get married, then build a house, and then have a baby. But it’s okay, we get to do the baby part first. It’s like dessert before dinner, and I can do that. It’ll be fun,” I tell her, feeling the truth in them as well as the grimy half-lie.

Should I tell her or will she brush it off, as if it’s nothing? It wasn’t nothing to me though, that dream this morning, it’s bothered me all day. I’m not sure how much longer I can go without telling somebody about it, but it scares me to have to recount it, and being afraid they’ll tell me it means nothing. Because that’s the last thing it meant to me, and something inside of me keeps telling me that I shouldn’t just forget about it.

“If you insist,” she sighs, clucking her tongue. “Are you two still meeting Asher and I tomorrow night?”

“Y-Yeah,” I answer shakily, too deep in my thoughts to notice the way the tea burns my lips. What if I can’t figure out what that dream meant, will it be okay?

A cacophony of sounds pelted my ears the second we walked in the door. Apparently we weren’t the only ones with the good idea of trying the new pizza and arcade place on a Friday night.

“Well, this place ‘s neat, innit?” Harry comments as we approach a table tucked into the corner, between skeeball and some flappy bird looking game.

“Yeah, it looks great. Loads of games,” Asher comments when we pull out chairs to sit across from them. “No, don’t sit down. We just ordered the pizzas, but they may take a little while. Let’s go and get started on the games. I saw Pacman and a Supermario game when we came in,” he continues emphatically, already getting up from his seat. Skye laughs beside him, joiningAsher as I let go of the chair.

We pass parents and children, teenage couples, and a few others like us on our way to the front. There, we find the machine that’s replaced the coin contraption back from our day. No, you no longer had to feed coins into each game and have paper tickets spit out at you.

“’s kind o’ sad, dontchu think? ’s all digital now. Ya don’t have tha fun anymo’ o’ counting tha tickets and yer coins,” Harry muses while sliding a card from his wallet.

“It’s easier to keep track of.”

“I suppose, but that’s no fun. It made me day findin’ a lost coin or line o’ tickets on the ground,” he hums with a shake of his head, pressing buttons on the touch screen. “How much should we do, you think?”

“I dunno,” I answer, forgetting the screen showing different dollar amounts and a description of how some games cost more than others. Instead, my attention is pulled to behind me. I’d seen her on our way in, but now, I look again at the mum sitting in the corner feeding her young baby, watching on as the dad holds up their son to shoot basketballs.

“Hey, ’m talking t’ you,” somebody says, nudging my shoulder with theirs. Turning back around, I find Harry’s green eyes waiting for me with furrowed brows. “Right now, we’re kids again with their friends, playin’ arcade games on a Friday night and stuffin’ themselves with pizza. We still have a ways t’ go on that, five and a half months actually,” he notes softly, nodding his head towards the mum.

“Yeah,” I murmur sheepishly, crossing my arms and looking back at the screen.

“I didn’t mean it rudely, Becks.”

“I know. A tenner should be fine, let’s just do that. We can always load more money onto it,” I insist, lifting my feet and clicking them together, like I’m Dorothy and wanting to go back home. Because, well, I do. It’s loud and my stomach hurts, I’m not sure from hunger or nausea, or both.

I’d been excited when we’d agreed to come here with Skye and Asher earlier this week, but no matter how much I tried to push it away, that stupid dream couldn’t be forgotten. Especially since I had it again last night, and I dreaded going to sleep tonight, in fear I’d see that mysterious little girl and that empty crib where our baby should be. It-

“Becks?”

“Wh-What?” I stammer, looking up quickly to find Harry waving a plastic card at me.

“We’re all set,” he announces, stepping to the side so Asher and Skye can buy theirs next. I follow him, moving out of the way for a little boy and his big brother to come through, rushing to the bathroom behind us. “You okay? Not feelin’ sick or anythin’, are you?”

I think about shaking my head, but when I look back into his eyes, I get The Look. The Harry Styles Look. The Look of all Looks. No, it wasn’t the killer stare I’d first familiarized him with when I sat at that desk at the end of his hall. This one came not soon after though, and it’d stuck. Ever since then he could read all of my tells, including how uncomfortable I am right now, or maybe just how I’m overthinking. He knew that look too.

“I’m probably just hungry.”

The curl hanging over his forehead is knocked loose when his head bobs up and down, but I reach a hand up to set it back in place.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get some pizza in that belly soon. I know how you’ve been craving it,” his dimples once again hide under his beard, one that had been growing thicker as the winter carried on. I feel its length when his lips sponge a kiss to my temple, his hand caressing my bump only a few seconds later.

“Thanks.”

After a few games, I found myself getting into it more and laughing at Harry’s competitiveness. I’d learned a long time ago that laughing about it was better than getting mad about it, and also that going to play games with Skye turned out better, watching the boys play from the sidelines.

“You doing okay, Boops? Tummy not good or are you tired?” the question came as I watched the little screen rack up my tickets from a Scooby Doo version of Whack a Mole. Instead of a red button marked with ‘25 cents’ a touchscreen with a card swipe sat there.

“Both, but what’s new?” I murmur, following her past Ring Toss, some car racing game that doesn’t give you tickets, and Space Invaders. At last, we found Air Hockey open and decided to have a go.

“So, what is it really?”

“What’s what?” I replied with an air of faux stupidity, pretending to focus hard on hitting the puck back her way.

“Why have you been acting weird lately? Just because I had some wine last night doesn’t mean I didn’t notice it.”

“Oh, that. You noticed,” I comment, avoiding her eyes even when she gets the puck past me. Bending over, I pluck it from the holder and hit it over to her, following it.

“Yeah, I noticed that. Whatever it is, which by the way, what is it again that’s bothering you?”

“You don’t sound very smart when you’re drinking. You do know that, don’t you?” a laugh is close to my lips, but it disappears almost as soon as it’s thought. As if to spite me, she picks up the glass of the pink hard cider she’d ordered. Sometimes, I missed drinking and how it made nights like these all the more fun.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” she sighs, tsking when I make the puck into her goal. Groaning, she slams the rest of the cider before dropping the puck onto the glow in the dark table. “But really, what is it?”

“God, are you and Harry stubborn,” I remark with a near groan, taking her cue when she hits it hard my way, deciding to do the same. “Fine . . so I had this dream the other night, like a nightmare almost and . . . ,” I carry on, detailing the entire thing to her, almost hoping that maybe if she says it’s nothing, her inebriated mind won’t remember it.

“Good game, glad you could get some rage out on that one, seeing as how you nearly gave me a bruise that one time.”

“Sorry,” the word drops carelessly as we walk away from the table and through a loud pack of kids. She makes a comment about never wanting kids, only to turn to me regretfully with the same word on her face. “It’s okay. I’m probably worrying for nothing.”

“I know you and don’t want to say that myself, but it was just a dream, Ree. Aren’t they like, manifestations of your thoughts and all that jazz? Maybe you saw the little girl once or see yourself in her, and want to protect her. It’s the mother in you coming out, I’m sure. I wouldn’t worry too much about it and what it means, it’s just a dream.”

“Yeah, it’s just a dream,” I agree aloud, more grateful than ever for Harry and Asher stepping in our path, telling us the pizzas had arrived. Sitting down beside Harry and arguing with him about Hawaiian pizza whilst our hands sat on the other’s thigh, this had once been a dream to me too.

But the one about the empty crib and the mysterious girl, no that was almost a nightmare, and I’d had enough of those.

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