#Lola is out of this cause she was the chef...

[mine-ventures]

Who can handle spicy food the best? Who would die from the pain?/hj

— I... I think I made the food too spicy!! —

Skype & Zatch can handle Spicy Food very well, since Zatch was already acquainted with it and Skype is... Well, He can't feel literally anything.

Meanwhile, Edwart isn't a big fan of it and Coopper probably will need some kind of healing potion after this (Oh, no!).

[rklve]

RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART TWO

summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jeon jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around you forever.

➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut.

➣ pairing: chef!jk x veterinarian!reader

➣ 8.9k words

warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a mess. mutual pining. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. drinking. jk has a big dick. teasing. cursing. orgasm denial. fingering. breast play (jungkook is weak for tits). clit play. squirting. multiple orgams. hand kink. choking kink. oc loves tattoos, oral (f. receiving). unprotected sex (don't!!!). spitting. lots of prasing. confused feelings.

I can feel your touch, I remember your kiss, 그 말은 아팠지 and I miss you

part one | part two | drabble one

You run to the car once he gets inside and unlocks the door. Immediately you turn on the heater and the radio at the same time. It all feels natural, like riding a bike. The start might feel rusty, but once you get your feet on the pedal, your brain will take you to memory lane. It’s like you’ve always been there. Like you’ve never left.

Jungkook just stares, and then you realize what you’ve just done. “I-I’m sorry. Just thought you’d be freezing. And… old habits.” you stumble over the words and looks straight ahead with your eyes growing bigger from embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“‘S’fine.” Jungkook cuts you off before you start babbling again. Won’t admit he wanted you to do that. This is one of the things he misses the most. Ordinary stuff. You, taking care of him. You, choosing one of your favorite Justin Bieber's songs on his playlist so you two can sing it all loud on the way home. Just you. Being there.

“I’m at my parents tonight, by the way.” His stomach drops. he expected it, but it still hurts. It’s a bad sign. You’re leaving again soon. Just like you did on Christmas last year. Spent 3 days with your family and went back to Australia like nothing happened. At least that’s what he heard from Taehyung, ‘cause he wasn’t here to witness it. He had travelled with his parents back then. But now he‘s here, and he can hear his heart start cracking again just by the thought of it. He’s dumb. So fucking dumb.

“That’s the reason I didn’t want to bother you.” you sigh “I wanted to surprise them but they went to my aunt’s today. Some family celebration I’m not aware of.” you continue as you look past the car window “I found out when I got there and everything was locked up. So I decided to go to Lola’s but found out she was out with Jin for the weekend too. So I just left my baggage at her door and came to the cafe to spare some time ‘till my parents get b— I’m sorry, I’m just babbling shit as usual”

“Just go on, I’m listening” he says. Usually he’s the one talking thru his elbows but knows you do that when you’re nervous too. 

“Right. So, you can drop me off at my parents and I’ll get my stuff tomorrow at Lola’s, if that’s okay.” you look back at him now “I’ll wait till they come back home.”

“Have you lost your mind back in Melbourne?” he says looking at the road with a big frown displayed “Not gonna leave you alone by your parents door. In this fucking weather. I’d never do that.” he sighs “You know me better than that, Bee.”

You freeze as you hear him calling you that. Just like he did minutes ago when you called him by his nickname. It’s bellow the belt and he knows it. Probably the reason he said it at the first place. Or not. Maybe it’s just force of habit and he doesn’t even care about that nickname anymore.

“We’ll get your baggage and head to mine. You can stay and call your parents. Wait ‘till the rain calms down and I can take you there.” he says and waits to hear a no from you. But you stay quiet. “Or you can call an uber. Whatever you want. Okay?”

“Okay.” you say, still a little bit unsure. Doesn’t want to bother him. Mess with his plans for a friday night. Your parents house is kinda far from here. You say nothing anyway, ‘cause you also think it’s the safer way out of this situation right now.

He helps you pick up your stuff at Lola’s and head to the other apartment complex two streets away. The ride back to his house is quick and calm. It’s a one-song-away route. A route that is very known by you. You’ve been there so many times, it’s tattoed in your brain. Think you could find your way back there even if you’re blindfolded. 

Finally the two of you reach to his door, and you can already hear some sniffing on the other side. A few more seconds and an aggressive scratching follows. Jungkook opens the door and gets in with your bags. 

“Hey, buddy. Dad’s home.” You see the now giant dog lick his owners hand, then he looks at you and it’s pure euphoria. He runs fast and puts his big paws in front of you. The next thing you know you’re with your ass on the floor, feeling how much he missed you as he continually licks all over your face swaying his tail from side to side.

“I know baby, I know.” you giggle “I missed you too!” 

“Bam! Behave” Jungkook says startled by the way the puppy reacted to you. Quickly leave your bags on the corner of the living room and comes to your rescue. “You can’t just hoop on people like that, man. You’re too big!”

“It’s okay, he’s just a giant baby.” you say as you get up again and start caressing his plain caramel fur. 

“You okay?” he asks looking you up and down to see if you hurt yourself.

“Jungkook, I’m fine. You know I deal with animals all the time.”

He softly nods. Yeah, of course he knows. It’s the whole reason you left him anyways. For a fucking job offer. At some big ass veterinary hospital five thousand miles away. Out of the blue. Like he meant nothing to you. And just like that, everything goes back to him and he gulps away his anger. Doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable right now. You just got here. Can’t be okay with the idea of you leaving already.

So he just calls Bam and leads him to his separated room, where his food and little house are, alongside all of his toys. “Stay here a little bit, buddy. I’ll bring you out later okay?” 

It’s like Bam understand every word he says, as he goes inside his little house and lays down “Good boy.”

Jungkook decides to put some dry clothes before he goes back to you. Takes a little while to choose one, but denies it’s because he wants to make a good impression. Ends up with a plain black t-shirt anyways.

He’s back to the living room and sees you looking around the house with curiosity. It is quite different, you think. Not in a bad way. It’s more sophisticated. The new furniture gives that vibe. All grey-ish. You like it. Matches him and his Chef persona. His kitchen is gorgeous as well. So many more pans that before. One of each size. You still don’t know the bare minimum about it. They all do the cooking and that’s all.

“You hungry?” he asks, realizing you stopped your inspection at the kitchen but never left.

“Kinda.” you say, and right away your stomach growls loud and calls you by your lie. “Okay, very hungry.”

You both laugh and Jungkook starts to pick up his utensils. One of his biggest pans. A big ass spoon. A cutting board. You lost count of how many things he puts on the table.

“Need a hand?” you say, just to be sure. You both know you’re terrible at the kitchen. But you’re at least able to cut some vegetables.

“‘S’fine. You’re probably tired from the flight. Go take a rest.” he says already on multiple duties over the kitchen. You have no idea what he’s cooking, but trust him anyway. He knows what you enjoy like the back of his hand. Knows what you love to eat, and knows you love his food more than anything else in the world. 

So you just hum, silently agreeing with him.

You sit up at the couch, and realize it’s a new one too. It’s a big one, and still has that smell like a recently unfolded present. You turn on Netflix. Wonder if you’re too comfortable at this house when you shouldn’t. Are you two going to be friends now? Did he forgive you? Or is he just being kind? 

Trying to clean your head for a little bit you pick up your favorite tv show: School of Chocolate. It’s kinda addicting. You know Jungkook claims to hate it but secretly loves it. He always used to argue when you put it in and ended up seated alongside you mesmerized with those big ass sculptures. 

“Fuckin’ waste of chocolate.” he suddenly says back in the kitchen. He is able to see the tv from there as well, but he’s concentrated on cutting some bacon anyways. “And some of them can’t even do the easiest tasks. Ends up looking like dog’s poop”

“Are you spoiling me? I didn’t watch this episode yet!” you scream looking back at him “Can’t believe you watched it before me” you giggle “I’m probably the biggest fan of the show.”

“It came out yesterday” he quickly replies “you’re such a fake fan.”

You just puff, feeling insulted by his words.

“Just admit you only watch it ‘cause you think the Chef’s hot”

“Amaury is not my type” you pan back instantly but quickly regret it. What the fuck are you thinking, flirting with him? God, you’re so stupid. He must hate you right now. Definitely will kick you out hungry and cold on the street at any minute now. But Jungkook doesn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t hear it. If he did, he just plays dumb. Continues to prepare whatever he is cooking and leave you to watch it.

On the kitchen, Jungkook’s heart is beating thru his ears. Can’t believe he heard you. Heard you flirting. If it was a year ago, he would drop the dinner and go towards you. Kiss your smart mouth and laugh with you. Say you better not adore any Chef more than you adore him. Pull you back to the sofa. Kiss your pretty waist and take dessert before dinner is even served. 

But he can’t do that. ‘Cause you’re not his anymore. You’re not part of this reality anymore. His reality. You live in a whole new country now and he wouldn’t survive letting you in again knowing you’d leave him anytime soon. So he just shuts it down. Pretends he didn’t hear anything, ‘cause it’s better this way.

A couple of minutes later dinner is ready. He made your favorite dish. Coincidentally he had some vegetable broth ready-made in the refrigerator from Wednesday and the idea came up in his mind. He’s finishing the details and hears you entering the kitchen.

“Where do you put the plates now?” you softly say looking up at him.

“Above you, on your left.” he points out and you go for it right away. Picks up the cutlery and puts everything on the dinner table. His chest pangs, ‘cause it’s just like old times. You used to do this a lot together. Almost every weekend. Or whenever you crashed up at his. He loves to spoil you with his food. Kinda his love language, he figures now. 

He grabs the wine from the refrigerator. One of your favorites. He remembers this too. You’re not a big fan of wine but this one is so sweet you can’t refuse. You’re a sweet tooth after all.

“Mmm. Red wine. The sweet one. What are we celebrating?” you play around as you sit. Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. Won’t admit he bought it thinking about you. Thought he would drink a whole bottle and you’d disappear from his mind like magic.

You didn’t.

“This one was sitting for a while here, gotta get rid of it. Swear nobody likes this shit but you, Bee.”

You try to ignore the nickname again. Tell yourself he only said it as a joke. The wine is sweet. You like sugar. You’re like an annoying bee. Everyone gets it. You’re just like any other bee. Not his Bee.

“Right. I’ll take this one with me then” you giggle softly.

Jungkook now is back with the huge pan and puts it in the middle of the table. By the smell of it, you’re guessing what it is. Your stomach too, as it growls again even louder than before.

“Are you starving yourself?” Jungkook jokes when he hears your hungry system.

“Haven’t eaten properly since I left home.” you giggle a little embarrassed but you can’t bring yourself to care much. Every once in a while you just forget to eat. You know it’s a bad habit and you’re trying to change that. Jungkook used to be your reminder. You used to eat so well when the two of you were together. Your rough routine made you have cookies for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. Quick things to match up with your quick schedule. But Jungkook took care of you. Sent messages thru the day reminding you to buy something. Drink water. Often sent food to your job. Sometimes he would cook himself and leave on the refrigerator so you could take it with you on the next day. You miss being taken care of. You miss being with him.

“You mean you haven’t eaten real food for more than 15 hours?” he says, now upset. “For God’s sake, Bee. You can’t do that.” 

You could get sick. Could pass out in the middle of the street. Could hurt yourself. He can’t bare the thought of you getting hurt, and it really upsets him.

You sense the change in his aura so you quickly change de subject. “Fuck off! you made risotto?”

Jungkook just hums, pouty. Still angry at your self-destruction actions. Angry he can’t do anything about it. Puts a good portion for you and for him in the plates. Beautifully arranged just like he does at the restaurant. Knows you like to take pictures so he follows your concept blindly. Guess you’d like to save in the memory lane.

And he guessed it right. You grab your phone instantly and take a couple of pics, but you won’t post it. Will keep it just for you.

“Where’s your glass?” you say after observing he only brought one glass to the table.

“I said I would take you to your parents, dummie.” he plays around, but he’s serious. He won’t drink and drive. His mom would cut his balls out. Your father too.

“Shut up, I can take an uber later. Get yourself one.”

“No, I really don’t mind.” he says stubbornly.

“If you don’t drink, I won’t drink either.” you pouty say and he wonders. Flips his piercing with his tongue for a second. Doesn’t want you to go home with an uber late at night. He will figure something about later. Maybe he can drink half of a glass and then sober up so he can drive you. Just know he can’t resist that face of yours right now, so he gives in a heartbeat.

“You’re the devil.” he chuckles and grabs a glass for himself. Pours a little bit for the two of you. “You’re lucky I like this wine with risotto.”

Then you two start eating. You make your silly little dance with your shoulders. Always do that when you enjoy the food. Jungkook thinks it’s the cutest thing in the word. Best reward he could ever get. Would cook every day and every night to see you this happy.

“This is so good.” you hum away “you’re the best of the bests. The most talented chef in the world. You’re gonna be a superstar someday.”

“Ani.. Stop it!” Jungkook shyly says, his two hands on his face hiding the bunny smile you know he’s carrying. 

“I mean it. You will be.” you take a sip of the wine and continues. You know he likes to downplay himself. “I’m talking 3 Michelin stars restaurant.”

“One sip and you’re already talking nonsense.” he giggles. Knows it’s your way of thanking him for the meal but he just can’t take complements like a normal person. Is too shy, even with you. 

“Shut up. I’m a big girl now. I could drink this bottle up and still rap to an Eminem song.” You laugh away and Jungkook just follows. Both of you know it’s bullshit. You’re a terrible drinker. Two glasses in and you would be giggling every 3 seconds. 

The two of you just stay like this. Talking nonsense. Bickering. Laughing away. Jungkook doesn’t know what time is it, but the rain is still pouring outside. A little bit less angry now, but still. The bottle is almost empty. He doesn’t know when you both stoped counting how many glasses you’ve drank. Doesn’t care anyway. Just wants to spend more time with you like this. Like there’s no real life outside that door. Like you’ve never left. Like you never will.

Eventually Jungkook takes the now empty pan and the two glasses to the sink. Hears you picking up the plates and seconds later you’re by the sink as well. He goes out to pick up the empty bottle of wine to throw it in the trash. When he comes back to the kitchen, you’re already washing the dishes; Drunk and hapilly humming the song you eventually put in between the dinner. Swaying away your perfect molded hips. Jungkook’s mind is fuzzy. Can’t think straight. But he knows damn well he can’t blame it on the wine. He would be like this even if he had no alcohol. You’re the one intoxicating him.

“What are you doing?” he murmurs softly behind you, just above your ear. You can feel his hot breathing and it makes your skin instantly hot too. The damn butterflies you feel every time he’s near are awake again. They’re anxious. Excited. 

You turn half of your face to him and say “I’m helping you, silly. I know you hate this part.” 

Jungkook gets a little bit closer. Doesn’t touch you, but he can smell your perfume more clearly now. Takes another step and he is able to smell your shampoo too. Strawberries. He loves it so much. Always have.

He can’t hold you, otherwise he won’t be able to let go. So he puts his hands around you, grabbing the corner of the sink. “You don’t have to, baby” he husks “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

You’ve got goosebumps, but you pretend. Pretend hearing him call you that didn’t almost give you a heart attack. Pretend you did not listen to his complains too, and keep washing everything. You’re almost finished. Then you can sit down. Maybe talk. Tell him everything you couldn’t a year ago. Tell him everything you need to tell him now.

But then, you feel his nose on your hair. Caressing throught it. It’s an old habit of his. You know he likes your shampoo, and you’ve never changed it. 

“You smell so good, Bee.” your mind is going wild. Don’t know what you should do. You can’t fake it anymore. Blame it on the wine, but the last thing you want to do is to have a conversation right now.

You finish the dishes. Clean your hands and tries to think straight. Gives up.

“Jungkook…” you softly say.

And just like that, he comes a little bit closer. His buffed chest on your back now. “Mmm?”

He can’t hold it back. He misses you like a fucking junkie and you are the drug on display. Right at his face. 

Meanwhile, you lean into his body. Your eyes are closed like you’re trying to get out of your foggy mind. Trying to do the right thing. He thinks this is the right thing. Does not care about breaking his heart tomorrow. He can deal with it later. His heart needs you now. He can just pretend for a little and everything will be fine.

So he closes the little gap that still exited between the two of you. Grabs you by the waist and looks down at your face. Waits for you response. You open your eyes instantly, and all he sees is red. Lust. Passion. Need. He knows those eyes. And he knows that’s what you’re feeling, ‘cause he feels it too.

But he’s still careful. His hands roam all over your body when he kisses your cheek softly. Feels his lips tingling with the sensation. Takes it to your neck. Knows exactly where your sweet spot is, and that’s what he aims. Takes a little while there now. Sucks a little bit. Your skin feeling hot under his lips. He drags his tongue slowly over the same spot. Hears you hissing and feels proud. Feels his cock throbbing too, happy with the sounds you make.

Jungkook softy turns your head and your lips are almost touching. You’re so close you can feel his breath like it’s your own. Your lips are begging you to go forward, but you’re scared to screw things up. So you bite your lip back.

“Fuck it.” he says and takes the first step. Holds your face with his palm and crash your lips together. It’s like you’re both starving for years as you sigh relived when your tongues meet. The kiss is passionate. Your lips molding each other, dancing together like they’ve never stopped. Like they’ve always done. Like you’re made for each other. You can’t get enough of him. He can’t get enough of you. So many feelings flowing thru a simple kiss. So you just go on and on and on. Deepens it, if it’s possible. Arms wrap around his neck, your fingers lost on his soft locks. Want him to know how much you care about him. How sorry you are. How much you miss him.

And he gives back. Kisses you like it’s his final act on earth. Kisses you like a starved man. Kisses you like you’re everything to him until he feels his lungs failing him, so he backs up a little to catch a breath.

“I think—“ you start saying, but suddenly you stop. His tattooed hand grabs your throat. Doesn’t strangle you, just puts it there. Caresses it. Let you know that he has made up his mind. That he knows all your weaknesses — that being one of them. He knows how to make you feel good and he’s silently now begging you to give in too.

“Don’t.” he husks and now squeezes your neck. Just enough to make that little spot in your brain tell you’re pleasured by the action. You gasp and let out a broken moan as he continues, now adding little love bites on your shoulder. His bulge growing behind you. So you finally do what you’ve been craving for the whole night.

Jungkook feels you start to rub your ass on his crotch slowly, but firmly. “Shit, baby.” He moans. Feels so fucking horny. Can’t remember the last time he was this hard. Thinks he will nut his pants like a fucking virgin if you keep this up. But he doesn’t care. Wants more. Wants you. So he starts to roll his hips too, meeting you halfway.

“Jungkook” you say with that pretty tone of yours. He knows you. Knows what you want, but he needs to hear it.

“What is it, baby?” he whispers against your ear now. The hand that was in your throat now travels south. It teases you. Goes around your breast. Acts like he will, but does not touch it. He wants you needing. Wants you begging.

“Please.” you say unquiet.

“Use your big girl words, Bee.” he plays around. Sucks your ear lobe. “Say it.”

“Want you to touch me.” you finally say.

“Good girl.” he husks, then turns you over. Grabs you by your waist and sits you on the counter. Puts himself between your thighs. Pulls you closer. Looks at you with his pretty big eyes. Wanting. Expecting.

“Kiss me.” you say and he wastes no time to do so. Kisses you again. Even more fervently than before. Wants you to remember. Bites your lower lip and sucks your tongue. Knows it drives you crazy. You moan into the kiss and he mirrors you. Feels pleasure seeing you this turn on. Wants to keep doing it till he’s fucking six feet under. Feels so blessed seeing you like this after all this time.

You grab his thick hair, pining it like you know he enjoys and he hisses into your mouth. His fingers dig deeper on your skin and you know it’s gonna leave marks.

“You drive me fucking insane.” he says as you pull away, looking at you with half his eyes open, lust exhales from all his pores. You give him a little smirk in return. Loves seeing him like this. All needy. All yours.

He takes back the control. Now he’s the one pulling your hair and you let out a loud moan from the pleasure. You love this. Your core is aching, pussy clenching around nothing trying to get some relief, so you know your body loves it too;

His mouth quickly follows your now exposed throat and kisses it. Sucks. Bites. Leaves tiny nips all over. Does whatever he wants with it, ‘cause he knows it gets you soaked up. Just thinking about it makes him needier so he starts to unbutton your pants, looking back at you to make sure you’re okay with this and you give him silent nods with that pretty little smile on you face.

He wants this moment to last forever, so he takes his time. Looks down on you ‘cause it feels like forever since he last saw you like this. You’re wearing a pretty lacy pink underwear. It’s like you want him dead. “Fuck you.” he says, still looking at your covered pussy with the cute underwear. You giggle a little bit. Knows he loves pink on you, says it enhances your skin color.

The hand that was on your hair starts to explore, travels across your throat and gives one final squeeze as he kisses your lips, bites it down, lick the swollen lip as the hand continues to go down. Takes a little step back and pulls up your shirt. Quickly gets back where he belongs and his lips are on you chest. Little pecks all over it. Teasing. Savoring. Jungkook claims himself a butt guy, but he swears he could happily die between those tits.

Both of his hands are on your covered breasts now. He cups them and starts to salivate with the view. Needs to suck it or he will die. So he takes off your matching bra and instantly puts his lips around your nipple. Sucks it like an obsessed man. Growls as he feels it harden against his tongue so he bites it. Wants to hear you scream from pleasure and so you do.

“Jungkook! Fuck!” you say as you arch your back, giving him more access to your tits. One of your hands grab the corner of the sink for support, the other is pinning his dark locks like your life depends on it. With his right hand Jungkook rubs the neglected breast. Slaps it and pinches the hard nipple across his thumbs. You let another loud moan and you can feel your pink underwear sticking. “Koo..”

And then he looses it. Can’t hear you all needy, calling him that. Does something to his mind and his dick. Knows it is rock hard under his pants right now. He has to do something about it, but the only thing he can think of is you. Giving you pleasure. Make sure you remember how good he is to you. Make you never want to leave again.

So with that in mind he kisses his way down. Kisses your pretty belly. Get on his knees and open your legs. Kisses your inner thighs. Looks over and you’re biting down your lips, looking like a fucking sex goddess. He’s crazy about you. Thinks he might as well fucking die if he can’t get this view for the rest of his life.

He goes a little further, aiming to the sweet spot between your legs. Put his nose on it so he can smell you. “Fuck. Missed this pussy so much.”

You whine at his words. You missed having him like this too. Heart thrums against your ribs when you sense his face closer into the warm of your cunt. He puts the underwear aside and licks your dripping folds just once. Slowly. Wants to savor you like fine wine. Groans when it hits his taste buds. “Swear this is the sweetest thing i’ve ever put my mouth on.”

You giggle, ‘cause you know he’s exaggerating. Such a Jungkook thing to do. “That’s big coming from you, Chef.” he looks back at you and smirks. “You don’t believe me” he leaves one bite on your thigh as a retaliation for not believing his words. Then gets up again. Grabs the back of your head and kisses you. It’s all messy. Wants to show you how sweet you are on his tongue. How addicting it is.

Suddenly he breaks the kiss and looks at you. Puts his fingers on your lips. “Open.”

You love his dom persona, so you obey immediately. Take his fingers like you know will get him imagining things. Licks it, slowly. Shows him what you could be doing on another part of his body. He takes this as a challenge. “You’re a tease, aren’t you?”

He won’t let you get away, tho. Finally strips you out of the underwear and takes his wet fingers down your cunt. Presses your swollen clit, rubbing his thumb over it painfully slow and suddenly you don’t feel like playing anymore. “Jungkook, don’t tease me.”

And for once he does as you ask without second thoughts. Puts his fingers inside your tight pussy and starts pumping inside you. You meow like the pretty kitty you are. “S-shit.. so good…”

He takes his pace, goes faster and his dick twists on his sweatpants with the sloppy sounds the movements take out of your pussy. His fingers are soaked up as he feels you start to milk them, chasing your high.

“P-please don’t stop. Oh my g-good!”

And then he does. Kinda feels wicked when you open your now teary eyes as he pulls out but he swears he will make it up to you. “I hate you.”

He just giggles and gets on his knees again.

“Want my dessert now.” he huskily whispers.

Before you notice, your thighs are on his shoulders and his face is on your pussy again. He’s eating you out like a literal dessert. Licks your folds with his hungry tongue and gets you moaning like crazy. “Could eat this pussy every fucking day.” he says, then puts his tongue flat on you clit. You know the drill. Have done this so many times before and just the thought of if gets you dripping even more. “Ride my face, baby.”

And so you do. Grab his hair with both of your hands and hold him on the perfect spot. He starts to move the tip of his tongue on your nub and you match his movements with your hips. Both of you get more and more turned on as you grind yourself further into his face.

“So good, baby. Shit…” you whimper and he moans into your clit when he hears your words. Puts his lips around it. Bites it. Suckes like his life depends on it. You don’t stop your hips from chasing your high, nudging at his nose and it’s the final act for you to come undone. “Jungkook, fuuuck!” you scream and pulls his hair tight when the pleasure wave washes you. You keep riding his face slowly and he gives your pussy kitty licks prolonging your high. You sigh relieved. He keeps drinking your sweet slickness till the last drop. Moans tasting your juice like it's the very first time. Takes his face back and he’s all covered in you, from his nose to his chin. It’s the hottest thing in the world.

He cleans himself with the back of his hand and suddenly picks you up bridal style, heading to his bedroom. You're taken by surprise, but you love when he manhandles you.

"What are you doing?" you ask still a little big foggy with the afterglow.

"Taking you to inaugurate my new bed" he giggles a little bit.

"Jungkook! That's disgusting!"

"I want your smell on it, what’s wrong?" he says naturally, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You don't want to get your hopes up 'cause you still haven't talked, but he's not making it easy for you.

You look up at him and just can't hold your stupid smile back. He's so gorgeous. The most beautiful man you've ever seen. His pretty little dimples are peeking 'cause he has a little smile on his face too. You realize you love every little detail there is about Jungkook. His beautiful moles; the one on his chin, on his neck, on his cheek. The tiny scar he got from a silly fight with his brother. His bunny teeth. His big, beautiful starry brown eyes. Yeah, you're never getting over this goof. It's humanly impossible.

So you just accept your fate. Whatever this night might bring, you’ll go for it. Heartbreak or healing. There’s no going back now.

Jungkook puts you down on his bed and just stares at you by the end of it. Still fully clothed, also wears that silly smile on his face. Gosh, he’s so fucking perfect.

You just grab him by his t-shirt and pull him closer. He almost falls over you but uses his arms to hold his weight. Towers over you but keeps staring. The previous smile washed away from his face now, and you’re scared he’s already regretting everything.

It’s intense, the way he looks at you. Got you curling your toes in excitement. In fear. In anticipation.

So you just avert your eyes to his pretty pillowy pink lips. Specifically to the mole under it, and you feel like kissing it like you used to.

In the meantime he starts undressing. Takes off his t-shirt and you gasp as you realize he has some new tattoos. One on his chest and more on his shoulder. All of the old ones are colored too. More alive. It’s so pretty.

“You colored them.” you say softly, letting your fingers go across all of them.

“Needed to put some color in my life somehow.” he responds quietly. Like he wanted to say more, but choose to hold it down.

You look back at him and the atmosphere is fuzzy again. There’s no going back from this, really. Not when he’s this close to you. Not when you feel your heart thrumming so fast it might explode. Not when you’re back here again, in his arms.

So wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. You need to be sure. “Do you want me?”

You’re so close you can feel his broke sigh when he says, “More than anything.” And then kisses you.

Not like a hungry man now.

Worst, like a man in love.

Kisses you awfully slow, twisting his tongue perfectly with yours. Sucks the life out of you. Got you moaning when he pulls out and licks your under lip as well. He grabs the back of your head and guides you into delicious positions for the kiss. It’s dreamy. It’s fulfilling. It’s everything you missed.

Jungkook can’t take it anymore, so he pulls himself down on you. Instantly feels your excitement wetting his sweatpants and his dick throbs for more of it.

He starts to grind against your fully naked pussy and you meow into the kiss, still feeling sensitive. Feels so good tho, so you start grinding back on him. What’s left of your cum mixing with arousal, making it even more satisfying for the both of you.

“So greedy…” he husks “Can never get enough, can you?”

You just nod, biting your lips. Feeling even more turned on by his low voice talking shit right now. You need him as soon as possible. So you keep going. Your both taking a pace now. “For god’s sake, take these off”

Jungkook feels his cock aching, burning, wanting. His balls might be petrified right now. Need you or he might die. So he just obeys. Backs off and throws it all away. Goes back to you instantly.

Starts to kiss you again, ‘cause he can never get enough of that sweet taste of yours. It’s like heaven on earth. His body grows hot and electrified as he feels your pussy clenching when he puts his hard dick between your folds. Keeps teasing, just cause he can. Wants to make you suffer a little bit more.

You break the kiss and whine into his ear. “Don’t be mean.”

He giggles and bites down on your left shoulder.

“I won’t, baby.”

His body says otherwise tho, as he slowly eases into you and and stops with just the tip inside. The feeling of his dick intruding your small hole is enough to make goosebumps rise all over his body and his breath to falter “Shit.”

“Koo..”

“Patience is a virtue, y’know.” he says, trying to command his heart to function like a normal person’s organ again.

“I don’t care about virtues right now, nerd” you joke and hear him tsc.

“You’ll never learn to not be sassy when you’re under me, will you?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, though. Fills you up abruptly and you gasp with surprise. It’s so fucking delicious that got both of you moaning in sync.

“Fuck, you’re just as tight as I remember” he says “You okay?”

“Yes,” you say desperately with a broken voice. You need him to move.

And so he does. Suddenly picks up his pace and starts to bottom you out. Fill you up. Repeat. His big dick stretching you out deliciously even better than you remember it did. Your mind did no justice to his talent at all. It’s like he was made for you. Understands your body and soul perfectly. Fits you perfectly. Makes you want more and more and more.

He grabs one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder, getting both of you in a nasty position that got him growling and you drooling.

Oh, he knows perfectly where your sweet spot is.

“Fuck, that’s it, Jungkook.” He smirks when he sees you loosing your mind. Knows it won’t take a while for you to come undone since he’s hitting your most sensitive point right now. With his other hand he puts a hand on your throat and squeezes it. Feels you milking his dick and moaning low.

“My baby likes to be strangled, huh?” he murmurs “Such a dirty girl”

You moan even louder as you feel him going faster. His endurance is crazy and you know it. Got you crawling up the walls every time.

“Tell me,” he says in between the thrusts “Tell me how good it is, Bee.”

“So fucking good, baby” you pan back, completely lost in pleasure right now. Your eyes are closed, all you see is the red starts he makes you see with every sweet thrust in your throbbing cunt.

He let down your leg and comes closer to you. Gives your neck little pecks and goes back to face you.

“Look at me.”

And so you open your eyes. He’s looking at you that same way. The loving way.

You can’t take this. Your heart can’t take this. Him, looking at you like that. Him, being the most precious human being there is. Him, being the greatest decision you’ve ever done. ‘Cause that just reminds you how you’ve ruined everything.

It’s like he feels your swipe of feelings so he slows the movements and gives you one sweet kiss before pulling out. Grabs you by the hips, putting you on top of him. You’re on charge again. It’s your decision, he’s silently saying.

With both of your thighs strangling his body and your hands around his neck you stop in front of him. Don’t do anything. Just admire him. Want to keep this moment bottled in your brain forever. His sweet, loving eyes. His pretty dimples. His chin’s mole—your favorite mole. Every detail there is about him.

Your pull him closer and slowly go for your aim. Put your lips on the pretty mole like you wanted to since you first saw him tonight. Keeps it there and sense his broke sigh. You sigh back. Your chest pangs. Your throat hurts and it’s not in a good way. Your start to feel your eyes watering and pulls back.

“Baby…” he says softly, looking at you with slightly frowned eyebrows, stroking your hips with his fingers.

You know he wants to say something. Something important. Probably something that you two should’ve said before any other thing that happened tonight. But you don’t want to ruin this moment. Not now. Not ever.

So you just shut him up with your lips. Savor him one last time before everything breaks down. Kiss him as if his taste is the oxygen you need to survive.

And he gives it to you right back. Almost as he’s fearing the same thing too. Almost like he doesn’t want to ever let go.

So you just climb up and position your needy pussy above his dick with his help. Delicately easing him into you, stretching you open deliciously till he’s bottomed you up and you can feel how good it is to wrap yourself around him.

“Shit” you moan, feeling so good after good knows how long. “You fill me up so good.”

You start moving up and down, feeling everything there is to feel, giving yourself up to him.

“Pussy was made for me.” he whispers to your lips. “Just for me.”

He moans when your walls clench around his dick, dripping arousal with his words.

“Fuck.” he husks “That’s it, baby.”

You do it again, now on purpose ‘cause you know it makes him insane. You need him like that.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Jungkook holds you in place and starts bulking his hips up, cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Mmm, too good…” you whimper when he begins a pace that has you seeing stars.

He sighs when he looks at you. His dick is socked with your arousal. Fills you up perfectly, like his body was designed to connect with yours this way. The way it goes in and out drives him mad; but when he looks up at you, closed eyes, full lips trapped between your teeth, hands squeezing those perfect tits. Got him gooshing. Got him head over heals all over again. Got him fucking screwed.

“Fucking perfect.” he moans “Look fucking perfect being dicked down by me”

He feels your walls tighten even more so he slows it down. Wants to make this last more. Wants to make you feel more. That’s not enough, can’t be enough.

So he stops his pumps and holds you down. Just like second nature, your arms wrap around his neck again and you start moving towards him, now rubbing your pussy in sweet movements that he knows will treat your swollen clit well. Knows you love this position, so he helps you out. Spits on one of his fingers and drags it down to your sweet bud. Massages it. Pinches. Makes you whimper, just ‘cause he likes the sound of it.

“Shit, shit, shit, Jungkook!” you say as your hips follow your needs, bulking against his pelvis now. It’s so delicious you think you might go crazy. His dick rubs the perfect spot inside you as your clit gets the perfect friction to set you off.

Jungkook pulls your hair to guarantee his access to your neck, leave tiny love marks all over it. Got you hissing against his shoulder.

“I got you, Bee.” he husks softly.

It’s frightening how fast your climax approaches. You feel the hot waves coming back, building up that frizzing feeling again.

Goosebumps all over your body, you back up to look at him.

You both stare at each other, hips trying to meet the perfect pace now. A sweet pace that has you two building it up together. Feeling together. Giving in together.

His hands are on your ass cheeks, guiding your deep movements, making your cunt take his dick just the way he likes, too. He feels you milking his cock with your walls and his eyelids are tattooed with stars.

“Shit, Bee.” he whimpers “Swear I could die right here and now.”

You giggle and just continue the intense pace. It’s inevitable, to not get emotional. ‘Cause you know you could have this forever. You’ve had everything you could’ve ever wanted. Yet, you let it go.

He opens his eyes again and you’re there. Looking at him with big doe eyes. Loving eyes. Teary eyes. Realizes he loves the shit out of you and cannot think about letting you go again. He will do any fucking thing. Go thru long distance. Take how many flights there is to take. Move to fuckass Australia. Whatever it takes. Just knows you two can’t be separated again.

So he makes love to you. Wants you to remember how it is to be loved. To be loved by him. Tries to show how electrified he feels right now. Needs you to feel the same way.

He guides your hips to continuously make those movements that got him curling his tip toes. One of his hands goes down to you clit again to make it even better for you. Knows it will get you cumming in a heartbeat.

“Ah, fuck!” you moan when he intensifies the rubbing on your harden button. “M’gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, baby.” he husks teasingly. That’s all he wants right now. You, coming undone because of him. The thought itself makes his own climax approach as well, mixed with you cunt stimulations and the sweet sounds you make: that’s the perfect receipt for —his— disaster.

Your body seems to obey him, as he starts to give in and the electric feeling of the orgasm tingles from you head to toe. “Koo, fuck!” you scream, eyes rolling backwards so hard you don’t think you’ll be able to see anything but starts for days.

Jungkook tries to prolong your feeling as he turns you over. Spits directly on your cunt, fucks you rough thru your climax.

“Koo, it’s too much.” you meow, eyes closed with goosebumps all over your body.

“No baby,” he whispers “Just one more, you can take it.”

So he starts the circled rubbing on your clit again. Grabs your hip firmly in a position that got you curling your tip toes.

“Be a good girl and cum for me again, pretty baby.”

Tears rolling down your cheeks, you feel everything amplified right now. It’s like you’ve been electrocuted all of the sudden. It’s like you need to cum or you will die.

Jungkook feels your dripping walls throbbing around his dick again and increases his pace, getting himself there too. “Fuck, that’s it, Bee.” he moans. Keeps rubbing your clit meanly till he feels his hand muscles hurt. “Gonna cum on this pretty pussy.”

“Koo…” you whisper and he feels your final spasms. Suddenly his dick and his hands are washed with your squirt. You fucking squirted on him. Jesus. He can’t hold himself back anymore.

“Fuck baby, fuck!” he says and increases the pace. The new wave of climax seems to be just what he needed to fuse his own orgasm. Everything that was building up now crumbles down when you spasm from your head to toe, body shaking and pussy as tight as ever, making him spill hot shots of cum all over your walls, filling you up, finally staying where it belongs.

He slows the movements now, pumping his every seed inside of you. Needs every part of him on you. His body, mind and soul are yours.

"So pretty dripping with my cum." he smirks.

You whimper with the nastiness of it all. You love it, and he knows it.

He gives you one last peck and eventually crumbles down next to you. Your heart is in a race, thrumming so hard you think it might break your bones now. You don’t know what to do. What’s next. Where this got you two.

Jungkook’s in no better place. The wave of afterglow is slowly fading and his mind is everywhere. He looks at his bedroom ceiling. Wants to say the right thing. Nothing comes to mind. So he turns sideways. Looks at you. Finds the courage he needs when he sees those pretty eyes.

“Bee.” he whispers. Comes closer to you, like he’s about to tell a secret. Keeps a little distance tho, just enough to look at your eyes. Wants to see your reaction. Wants to see the true feelings in them when he says, “Don’t leave me again.”

Your gasp is audible, eyes two sizes bigger as the tears you’ve been holding back all night now roll down your cheeks.

“Please” he says, voice cracking too as if he’s expecting the worst. Expecting you to make the wrong choice again.

“Jungkook—“ you whisper, trying to find the right words.

“Baby, I’ll do anything.” he nervously says “We can try long distance. I have enough money to travel at least once a month.” he starts babbling out.

“O-or if it’s to hard for us, I’ll try to find a restaurant in Australia. I’ll move out with you.” he says with his chest hurting, seeing you taken aback again. He can’t loose you. “Fuck, I’ll literally drop anything there is for you.”

He closes his eyes now. Turns over again. Doesn’t want to see the rejection in your eyes. Doesn’t want you to see the tears on his. He’s too weak for you. Too weak for his own good.

“But I understand i-if..” his voice trails off in hurt, his throat tightening “I understand if you don’t have feelings for me anymore.”

“Koo…” you softly say, giggling with teary eyes. You climb up on him. He keeps his eyes closed like he’s scared of the world outside his eyelids. “Look at me.”

He slowly does, and the trapped little tears fall over, his perfect nose is pinkish, and you just want to melt away.

“I’m not leaving.” you softly say, wiping out his beautiful cheeks.

“W-what?” he stumbles over his words. He can’t believe he heard you right. That can’t be.

“I’m not leaving. I came this time to stay.”

“Are you fucking with me, Bee?” he abruptly stands up and almost got you falling off the bed. He holds you tight on his lap, tho. “Be serious right now.”

You laugh out loud now. Can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe he wants you after all this time. After everything that’s been thru.

“Jeon Jungkook. I swear on Bam’s life” you say with a bright smile on your face.

“Hey! Don’t swear on Bam’s life!”

Like he was waiting for the perfect time, the puppy shows up by the end of the bed, swiping happily his tail with his big eyes looking at both of you.

“Nobody called you here, man.” Jungkook jokily says. Wants to have his private time with you now, and knows Bam will be all over both of you if he stays. “Go back to your room, big boy.”

The puppy stubbornly stays. Looks at you, like he wants the words to come from you now.

“Go, Bamie. We’ll play with you later.”

And so he does, like that’s all he needed to hear to obey.

“Fucking joke.” Jungkook cuffs “Even the dog is head over hells for you.”

"So..." you say with a stupid grin all over your face you might as well apply for a role as the joker. "You're head over hells for me, hm?"

"So..." he immitates you. Knows it tickles the shit out of you. Bickering with you is his love language, too. "You're not going back to Australia?"

"Uh-hum." you giggle, playing with his dark locks.

"What happened? Kangaroo kicked your head over there?"

"Missed my Koogaroo" you pan right back.

"Oh, shut up." He lets out one laud laugh and turns you over in bed, tickles all over your body until your crying.

You both just stare at each other, big smiles spread out in your faces. Happinees flowing thru and between you. That's it. That's where you belong.

"I really missed this." you say softly.

Jungkook towers over you again. Kisses your lips softly. "Missed," your nose. "You," your forehead. "So much." all of your face.

"I love you, Koo." you say softly, staring at him. Staring at his soul. Hoping he believes you. Believes you never stoped loving him, not now, not ever.

"I love you too, Bee."

AND THAT WAS IT! what do you guys think? I struggled so much on the smut parts wtffff why is it so hard hahaha

I was thinking about doing some drabbles of the story since I loved the couple sm! they're so sweet, right? also thought about developing her friendship with tae, maybe after jk/oc are back together, his reaction and apologies ??? or maybe the background of oc/jk's f2l, the day she left aahhh there's so much i could do!

again, i'm sorry if there are any typos! please leave comments if you like the story, i'll accept requests too <3 promise i'll come back soon

taglist: @kooliv @serendipity713 @5seos @pointofviewyugyeom @glitterybreadtimemachine @olimpiiaa @kooklovee @coffeewkth @valwnn @tae-hibiscus @skzthinker @lazyyhooman @sharkipoonis @kiylasstuff @kissyfacekoo @spicxbnny @cookysstuff

tysm for supporting my ff, i hope you enjoy :) xx

[rmd-writes]

Fic Rec Friday

tag the fic that surprised you and / or a fic with a great twist and describe why it's so good. then tag some fellow associates to see what everyone else is reading. the broader the fandoms the better and don't be shy to rec older fics! make sure to tag #fic rec friday or @welcometololaland so that she can compile the masterlist.

Schitt’s Creek

Winning the Game by @ladyflowdi - there’s no shocking twist but I just was not expecting to laugh SO MUCH when I started reading this fic! It’s just so fun and so funny and the banter is chef’s kiss.

Red, White & Royal Blue

Count The Stars and Constellations by @everwitch-magiks - the way that one particular detail of this fic took me out at the knees and caused considerable consternation amongst a few of us who were fortunate to get a preview of this wonderful fic will go down in the record books. It’s been 18 months and I’m still a little mad about it tbh.

911 Lone Star

as if you were a mythical thing by @strandnreyes - I know Lola recommended this too and I’m sure many others will, but for this week’s theme I just can’t go past it! Jen laid the groundwork for this perfectly, the clues are there if you’re looking for them but it still makes you pause when you get to the reveal

Tagging: @three-drink-amy @cha-melodius @indomitable-love @athousandrooms @reyesstrand @carlos-in-glasses @taralaurel @never-blooms @liminalmemories21 @lightningboltreader @stereopticons @maxbegone @jettestar @hippolotamus @rosedavid @jesuisici33 @firstprince-history-huh

[clarawatson]

It Only Takes a Taste

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded stuff, but I’m not sure where this is going as a larger work so we’ll say Fem!reader to be safe) Summary: You work at a diner. Aaron Hotchner falls in love with you. We’re not kidding around trying to make us all sound like profilers, just accept the diner life, we love it here. W/C: 1498 Warnings: none yet!  A/N:  First chapter of that diner!au i was talking about here! AO3 ps. I forgot to tag people, so: @willowrose99 & @genevievedarcygranger my beloveds. If you want to get added to the tag list jump in my inbox and i’ll try to remember to add tags every time i post. Where am I in this series?  01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

~

When you first meet him it’s 5am and raining. You’re switching over shifts for your friend, Rita, because she’s been doing night shifts at the diner. This late into her pregnancy she shouldn’t be working, not technically, but she needs the money and she’s got insomnia because of the baby, so she works nights now. There’s always someone working with her, be it Joe (who’s got far too much muscle for a chef) or Lola (who can beat anyone to a pulp with a pie tray). In the early hours of the morning a bunch of tatt’ed bikies come and sit and talk about their extracurricular activities (definitely not legal) because one time there was an armed hold up and the police didn’t turn up until two hours after it had happened. People don’t like holding up a diner full of men who eat their own motorbikes for breakfast.

But when he comes in, he’s not any of them. He’s not even one of Lola’s nightly hook-ups (she needs the money, you don’t ask). He’s too well dressed in a grey suit (or is it black? Maybe it’s black), trying desperately to shove his I.D. badge in his pocket. He has a look about him that says ‘I’m part of one of the alphabet soup agencies’. A smile on his face, dead in the eyes, and the weight of the world on his shoulders. He fumbles with his wallet as he squints to read the menu behind the counter. The rain’s stopped dripping from his hair, instead he’s got droplets like his woken with the morning dew upon him.

“Hi love,” Rita coos as she hangs her apron up. She has a look about her that says she’ll eat this man for her breakfast. It’s an effort not to curse those pregnancy hormones some days.

“Go home,” you tell her, swatting her arm. “Put your feet up, rest, sleep while the baby does or some shit.” Rita sticks her bottom lip out and pouts, but she’s making grabby hands for her purse, which is stored where the tea towels used to be. Far too high to reach even when one’s not pregnant. You grab it down for her, ignoring the showering of thank-yous.

The new guy (who is getting more and more handsome by the second) is still looking at the menu. He doesn’t look like he’s going to stop looking and order any time soon.

“Are you sure you’re fine to take the metro in this weather?” you check. She’s rubbing her swollen belly and looking longingly at the booths that haven’t had anyone sit in them for hours now. 

“Wait forty-five minutes and I’ll take you!” Joe yells. He’s slaving over something in the kitchen even though it looks like no one’s ordered in hours. “Wife gave me the car ‘cause of the storm!”

“Forty-five,” you repeat and point her towards the seat that she’s been eyeing off. Rita sighs, nods, then goes out to the seat. “What can I get you?” Usually when addressing the customer you’d add something gentle like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’ or ‘dear’ because the customers like it and they come back because they think you’re treating them like a long lost friend.

He bats his dark eyelashes and rubs at his forehead.

“I don’t know.” He sounds tired, balancing on the very edge of exhaustion. He might just fall off into a pit of sleep that he won’t wake up from. Been there, done that. “Do you guys do coffee?”

You laugh and point to the brewed pot beside you. There’s one for each table, free refills with a pie purchase. It’s written in decorative lettering right above you on the blackboard.

“We can put it in a take-away cup. It’s before six so it’s free anyway,” you offer. The last bits a lie, but Joe doesn’t care about a cup or two of coffee going missing. He’ll catch it up later when he flirts with all of the mom’s coming through after school drop off. The new guy nods and pulls out a ten dollar note and shoves it in the tip jar. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he nods anyway. He’s like a broken bobblehead.

“I know.” He goes to the sweets display and searches through it like he’s looking for something specific. Maybe he is. You’ve not seen him in the diner before, and neither has Rita, but maybe he’s one of Lola’s regulars. Maybe you’d judged him wrong. 

“Anything caught your eye?” you ask, leaning over the counter as if you could see it from his angle too. Maybe you do it to show off just that little bit of cleavage. He notices, then looks like he’s done entirely the wrong thing as he licks his lips and blinks like a school boy.

“S-sorry,” he stammers, and Rita giggles. You point at her and give her a stern look, but she just puts her hand over her mouth and lies down on the seat. She’s still silently giggling because her belly keeps bobbing above the table. 

“I just…” he has that exhausted look on his face again.

“Long day at work?” The answer is always yes for the people who work at the alphabet agencies. He nods. “Take a seat, grab some coffee, take a minute. It’s only just gone five, you’ve got time.�� 

He nods. He looks like he’s gotten his words all mixed up and they’re just sitting in his mouth, refusing to leave. Tongue tied doesn’t exactly encapsulate what looks like is going on inside his head. He sits at one of the chairs in front on the counter, and takes the coffee cup gratefully as you pass it to him.

He’s definitely an alphabet soup man. He sits in this weird stance like he’s countering his weight against a gun. His shoulders are hunched forward as if he spends hours a day doing paperwork. He’s got a nervous twitch in his hands like sitting still is only going to bring the next case.

You think about making a joke about turning on the cellphone jammer, but last time Joe made that joke the whole place ended up swarming with cops. Absolute disaster. No one’s going to do that one again. 

“Cherry, berry or apple?” you ask, grabbing a plate.

“Sorry?”

“Cherry, berry or apple?” Rita repeats from her booth. “For the pie, sweetheart.”

“Uh, I didn’t—“

“Eat it,” Rita growled. You pull a face at her even though she can’t see you. The guy smiles.

“Apple, please.” Well mannered. Sweet. He looks elated as you slide the apple pie to him and hand him the canned cream.

“Not as good as fresh, but it’s better than nothing.” 

He puts a generous amount on his plate. You half think he might like it more than proper cream. Rita leans up just enough to look at him as he digs in, fanning herself playfully before sighing and collapsing back down.

Joe brings out his tray of caramel salted cookies. They’re thick enough to look like cakes with a gooey caramel center, and they usually sell out pretty quickly. The new guy watches them intently.

“How much trouble am I going to get into if I give those to my son?” 

“How old is he?”

“Ten.”

You smile. That’s a good age. “How much do you hate his teacher?” 

He considers this with a gentle tilt of his head. “Not a lot. I’ll give it to him after school.” He pulls out his wallet again and Joe looks like he’s just hit the mother lode as he grabs one of the cardboard boxes. 

“If you really want to spoil your kid, y/n here can write really pretty on top.” You glare at Joe. He shrugs. He’s covered in cake batter and cookie dough, and smells like pancake batter. He’s always smelling sickly sweet, and like a well lived in home, despite looking like the living embodiment of Gaston. “She does it for my wife all the time.”

The handsome man’s phone buzzes. He checks it, then shovels the rest of his pie in his mouth like a starved man. 

“I have to go,” he says. He gives Joe another ten and tells him to keep the change. Joe looks like he’s about to break into a song and dance. You pour a fresh cup of coffee into a take-away cup and slide it across the counter to him. He thanks you a thousand times over then goes. With his cookie.

“Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Rita screeches the moment the door shut with it’s little jingle. “I’ll-show-him-my-cleavage-but-I-won’t-ask-his-name?? No wonder you can’t get a date!”

“I’ll do it next time.” Not that there’s ever a ‘next time’ for these alphabet soup agents. They’re always looking for the next place to go to so they don’t have a ‘regular place’ that can be ambushed. 

But in a perfect world... you’d see him every day.

[samanthaswishes]

Agents of SHIELD Rewatch Season 2B (ep. 11-22)

It's been months, but the rewatches are back!

Here's my commentary on my rewatch of Agents of SHIELD Season 2 Episodes 11-22. This may not be the best commentary since these are just the thoughts and opinions that come to my mind as I watch the episodes rather than a full-blown analysis, but I'm just having fun with it!

2x11 Aftershocks

This is also the first set of rewatches on Disney+, and you can't skip the recaps, so I get to watch Trip crumble to pieces TWICE in one episode. Making me cry this weekend, why don't you.

Baby Gordon! Also, this flashback scene takes place in 1983, which means it's probably not that long before Kora dies. It's crazy to look back on this scene after s7, knowing that Kora currently exists in that flashback.

Also, JIAYING!! She's still one of my favorite characters.

I want Jiaying to hug me and comfort me and tell me everything is going to be alright.

"They would be lost" as it cuts to Skye😭

AND THERE'S the second Trip crumbling of the day.

Skye... why are you wearing shoes in bed?

Just gonna say this now, Chloe's performance in this episode is *chef's kiss*

I remember watching this episode for the first time and just being absolutely devastated we didn't have Trip anymore. I'm still devastated.

Dr. List and Von Strucker mention.

So, why was Raina going on a killing spree in the temple?

I JUST WANNA HUG SKYE🥺

Also, I miss big sister Bobbi with the quarantine survival kit.

"I think you're a rockstar"🥺

"Come home, Jemma" I love this family.

Skye's heart monitor is literally going off the rails, signifying that her heart rate is dangerously high, yet no one heard or noticed?

"Smile!"😃

The plan for Bakshi to "escape" is both ridiculous and hilarious.

"ThEy'Ll NeVeR tAkE uS aLiVe!"

Okay, but what would have May's version of the plan been like?

Also Bobbi just casually wheeling her motorcycle out.

Okay, I understand where Jemma is coming from and her fears surrounding it, but I feel like she shouldn't have blown up in front of Skye, who was affected by all of this. Again, I totally understand Jemma's reaction, I just feel like talking about this as an epidemic and something dangerous isn't something to be said in front of someone who is affected.

Ooh, Raina, don't call his daughter a bitch.

Cal's little happy dance😂

It's sad hearing Cal talk about his plan, knowing what we know about Jiaying later.

"I can't live like this" "Then don't" Damn, this got dark quick, and it's just gonna get darker.

Props to Ruth Negga for putting on amazing performances while having to deal with all those thorns.

Hunter is a better spy than the show gave him credit for. Sure, he's made pretty shitty choices, but he's pretty good at the job. He was suspicious of Bobbi and Mack the whole time.

Also, the only part that makes this season hard to watch is the whole 'Real Shield' thing and the way Bobbi and Mack are around the team, which sucks cause I love Mack and Bobbi. They're literally my favorite characters after Daisy and May.

Oh Mack, you do so much more than just 'working on Lola one day'.

Again, talking about putting Raina down in front of Skye? I understand Jemma, but there are just some things you shouldn't talk about in front of someone who was just traumatized due to the same experience as said person you want to put down.

Did anyone else notice that the music Skye is listening to on headphones is the same score used during the Ghost Rider pod in season 4?

300bpm, that's 5 beats per second. For reference, my resting heart rate at this current moment is 90bpm, which is 1.5 beats per second. Skye's heart rate at the time of the collapse was roughly 3.33 times faster than my current heart rate.

"That's inhuman" we love to see it.

Again, can we not tell Skye that something's wrong with her?

I made a post about this a while ago, but besides the fact that her powers may have just been exposed, Skye might have been nervous about the broken glass because of what happened with the crystal decanter she broke at a foster home, which she mentions in like 6 episodes.

Also, I love these soft May moments. The way she goes from comforting Skye to freaking out in a protective manner over the fact that she's bleeding.

The way Trip's mom just knew😭

If you follow me, you know my opinions on Fitz and my disdain for him, and I don't agree with the fact that Fitz kept telling Skye to hide her powers as she could have gotten help sooner, but "You're just different now, and there's nothing wrong with that" will forever be one of my favorite lines from the show.

Raina, baby, no :(

"COME ON, GIRL"😭

Why couldn't we have more family moments like the end of this episode?

2x12 Who You Really Are

Welcome back, Lady Sif! I loved seeing her in Loki, and I really hope we get her back in Thor: Love and Thunder (was it ever confirmed that she was going to be in it? I can't remember).

The May and Skye sparring scene... *chef's kiss*

"I didn't want to hurt you" and then May's gesture that's just like "You think you can?"😂

Also, THAT transition

"Son of Coul"

In canon, how did they get that picture during 1x15?😅

Why did they have to make the Kree's weapon look like a mallet you would beat meat with? lol.

So, now the ICERs are dangerous? I don't remember them saying dangerous for some reason, and now I feel for Skye with the after-effects after she shoots herself later in the episode.

"I can" Love that May is crushing on Thor. And just Coulson's face after she says that haha.

"i BaReLy ToUcHeD iT"

"I learned this as a child, did you not?"

Agents of SPOOF has forever ruined the scene where they find the Kree cause I can no longer watch this scene without the song "Blue" going through my head.

I love the parallel they make in s7 of Kora's gun quaking apart to Skye's in this episode, even if Kora wasn't the one causing the quakes.

I love how Sif was about to explain the concept of a key to Coulson.

Yes, Mack is a pretty boy.

The zoom in on the water glass. The way water glasses have become something of a symbol for Daisy's powers!

The way May just knew the shaking was from Skye and that something was up all along.

Love how May and Coulson don't even think twice about grabbing Skye and standing in front of her.

Why Bambino for the name of the "I know what it does" weapon?😂

Mack just goes from "we'll decide what she is😠" to "Tremors🤩" and I love that.

May grabbed her and ran, and then she took a knee and got on Skye's level, just as a special someone had once told her to do🥺

No one talks about the May and Daisy scene in this episode enough. Just the way May says "Skye" tells you everything about their relationship and how much they care.

It's there for a split second, but the way May just softly touches Skye and moves her hair😩 (I'm obviously touched starved, can't you tell? lol)

Ugh, I always hate that line from Mack given his and Daisy's amazing relationship later. You can see the regret on his face when he sees her though. Ugh, can we just move on from the painful parts, please?

2x13 One of Us

"I'm stopping them before they start" Oh, Skye, baby. If only you knew what you were doing to yourself.

May's thoughts: "Is he really asking me to contact my ex right now?"

And there he is, Dr. Andrew Garner, the husband blueprint.

Also, Andrew is a great therapist, laying down the rules for treating Skye.

Love that Lian May still likes Andrew and invites him over for dinner despite her daughter having been divorced from him for years. I mean, I would too.

This is an Andrew Garner appreciation blog.

Here's one of the one-liners we get of Daisy's past in the foster system. Never will forgive the writers for just forgetting this major part of Daisy and having the characters treat her like she didn't have this trauma as well.

Also love how even Andrew grew a soft spot for Skye/Daisy as time went on.

"I'm not suicidal" UGHHHHH SEASON 2 WHY YOU GOTTA DO ME LIKE THIS. SEASON 4 IS COMING UGHHHHHH. Glad they care for her this season. You will hear from me more on this when we get to s4a cause I have A LOT to say about how they treated Daisy.

Did we ever establish EXACTLY was the photo on Andrew's desk?

Love how we found out that May can't cook and just ran with it in fanfics😅

Fitzsimmons gossiping about May and Andrew is such a mood.

"You need backup" "I need backup"

That kid filming with his iPhone is the only realistic thing in this show.

NOT THE BIRDS

Mack, imma have to disagree with you on that. I actually like pineapple on pizza.

As much as I absolutely love the 'May and Coulson are Daisy's adoptive parents' fics, where are all the 'May and Andrew are Daisy's adoptive parents' fics? Cause the way Skye talked to them, convincing them to let her go, just gave me 'daughter talking to her parents' vibes.

Skye's shaking can be because she's scared and it works, but given that you can see everyone's breath, it was probably, no doubt, freezing cold when they filmed the football field fight.

I totally forgot Bobbi was hiding under the bleachers. That made me laugh😂

THAT👏🏼 MAY👏🏼 POWER👏🏼 WALK👏🏼

Again, I JUST WANT TO HOLD BABY SKYE. She's over here watching the people she cares about the most destroy people who are gifted just like her.

Can we talk about the May and Coulson Worried Parent™ running?

"We're as close to a family as Skye has"🥺

2x14 Love in the Time of Hydra

You know, I really liked this stretch of episodes without Ward. Now, he's back. Gross.

I also just feel really bad for Kara

Look at that, the only time the MCU actually might have looked at Bruce's mental health and how he might actually not want the Hulk. Did we all just forget about how he said he tried to kill himself in The Avengers?

Not Fitz talking about being glad that certain people don't have choices the better themselves.

Watching May and Coulson talk about taking Skye out of the picture so she can better control her powers, knowing that something is up with Bobbi and Mack, is really neat. They were always thinking ahead.

"Off to see the wizard"

There are so many parts of this episode, I honestly have no idea what's going on lol.

The team canonically had karaoke nights.

The whole 'Real Shield' thing is so frustrating. Like, I understand some aspects of what they are saying, even Coulson later agreed, but their execution is just terrible.

Wait, so Jemma knew that there were going to be repercussions of the casts she made for Skye?

Thinking about all the flashbacks Skye was having when Coulson told her to "pack a bag"🥺 You can just see it in the way her face totally drops and the shaky breath she takes.

LOLA BACKSTORY

I will never get over May's voice coming out of Skye's mouth. This whole scene is just weird and creepy😣

I'm just tired of Ward justifying everything he's done wrong on his past when Daisy had gone through a rough upbringing as well, and she came out the most selfless person ever. She didn't become a little murderer.

"You seem so well adjusted" EXCUSE ME. DID YOU JUST SAY THAT ABOUT WARD???

Not gonna lie, Ward and Kara breaking into Talbot's base does make me laugh. It's just so chaotic.

Talbot's soldiers have to go through so much haha😅

"If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is a spy in my house" and the cut to Mack OMG.

Does Mack really think he can outsmart THE Melinda May?

Kara punching Bakshi was very satisfying.

At the time of rewatching this episode, I had rewatched (again) all of season 1 and prior episodes of season 2 (just so it says I watched them on Disney+), but I never noticed in 2x02 how Coulson told Hunter that there were people he trusted that vouched for him and that 'people' was Bobbi.

"I'm just trying to fix her!" UGHHH THIS LINE HURTS EVERY TIME. SIMMONS WHY? I LOVE YOU BUT THE XENOPHOBIA HURTSSS.

Not the edible arrangements😂

Again, feel so sorry for Kara.

2x15 One Door Opens

THE WAY BOBBI BUSTS THROUGH THE DOORS. YES QUEENNN!

I wish we got more Hartley before she died.

"The path we've chosen, makes you forget your lines sometimes" is one of my favorite bloopers.

Gotta hand it to Coulson's quick thinking.

Love how Bobbi knew it was safer to just break through glass than to voluntarily fight May.

Also, May and Bobbi fight... *chef's kiss*

When did Bobbi and/or Mack have the time to put a monitor in a fire extinguisher that's out in the open?

I don't understand the logistics of the casts. Like, I know it suppresses the powers, but like, what makes it so Skye feels woozy? Like, that should have been something to note.

As someone who hates horror movies, the very not-that-scary horror-esc scene/buildup did kinda scare me the first time I watched haha.

If I opened my front door, and some guy like Gordan was standing there, I would have screamed and shut the door right then and there.

Gordan is aware of exactly who Skye is, right? I wonder if he knew her during the few months before Whitehall. I mean, he had known Jiaying since at least 1983, and she wasn't born until 1988.

Also, I wonder if Gordan ever thought about Kora during those moments with Skye, a girl who was scared of herself and didn't have an idea of how to control her abilities.

SMART GIRL JEMMAAAA

They don't want secrets, but they're willing to break into a base, potentially hurting a lot of people? Again, Real Shield frustrates me.

Skye discovering new aspects of her powers will always be my favorite part of the episode.

Fitz and Simmons holding hands and being there for each other after Real Shield invades is sweet.

And people don't understand why Skye wanted to stay at Afterlife more than Shield. May wasn't able to finish, so Skye believed all of Shield was after her. Then, of course, she was chased through the woods and shot at.

May is the dictionary picture of loyalty.

Why is Coulson being sent down that elevator so funny?😅

Damn, I really hate Calderon.

Again, Skye only attacked to protect herself. SHIELD ATTACKED FIRST.

Love how much Bobbi still cares about Skye. The scream of her name was pure terror for her.

And there's the quake shield! Shame we only see her use her powers like that again in the series finale.

So, does Skye just not remember arriving at Afterlife? Did she like pass out as soon as she and Gordon got there?

2x16 Afterlife

Thank you Coulson for icing that guy cause that actor (the car salesman) is a pedophile (I know this cause he was the dad/grandfather on Andi Mack and they had to cut him out of the show)

What was the point of having Skye in two pieces of cloth?

And there's Mr. Battery Pack Lincoln Campbell.

Thank you Bobbi for defending Skye.

How would you have been invited IF COULSON DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT YOU?

So Jemma and Fitz made their plan pretty early on given that Jemma didn't have much of a reaction about Fitz "packing his things"

"I lost her"😭

The little foreshadowing to the following episode with Bahrain!

Hunter waking up like that is a mood.

Hunter is a whole mood this whole episode actually.

So, those shield agents were there with the battering ram for an hour? I'd give up after like five minutes.

After season 3, I know that Daisy and Lincoln weren't ready for the relationship they could have had at the time, but I will admit that they're cute. He's the one who convinced her that her powers could be a good thing. It's nice to see someone caring about her.

You mention Trip, and I will start crying.

MIKE PETERSON!!!!!!!

AND THERE'S JIAYING

Skye knows there's a connection between her and Jiaying.

Is Lincoln aware of the relationship?

That scene hurt knowing that Jiaying lost Daisy, but watching this after s7 and knowing she's also hurting because of Kora, it hurts even more. UGHHHH WHY DOES THIS SHOW MAKE ME FEEL FEELINGS.

Hunter just wants to go to Mexico.

2x17 Melinda

May and Andrew were such a good-looking couple.

THEY WANTED TO HAVE A FAMILY AND HAVE KIDSSS😭😭

"Best Security System in the World" yes she is.

Thinking about how Coulson wanted to bring May onto the Avengers Initiative with him.

Okay, but how cool/emotional/sad would it have been if we got a young Eva Belyakov in season 7 when they went to Afterlife?

The fact that Skye is still trying to justify SHIELD and blame herself when Jiaying is trying to make her see that she had every right to fire back IN DEFENSE. And people wonder why Skye """turned""" on SHIELD.

The Quake theme when she causes the avalanche. Ugh, I will never not get emotional when I hear that theme.

May's smile when she first sees Katya😭 WHY DOES THIS EPISODE HAVE TO HURT!!

I really feel bad for Raina.

The water glasses is making me season 7 emotional. (7x10, why did you have to be so sad???)

Another reason I love this episode aside from the Bahrain backstory is that it actually touches upon Daisy's trauma with foster care and abandonment and actually acknowledges what it has done to her character instead of ignoring it and treating her like shit.

"I tried some of the scotch too."

*26 Skye. You're 26. (Though Chloe I'm pretty sure was only 22 or 23 when filming this episode)

JIAYING KNOWS YOUR BIRTHDAY SKYE!!!

"You were born on July 2nd." And I'm going to go cry now.

Dichen and Chloe's acting and emotion in this scene is just phenomenal!!

"I was too afraid to hope"

Why did the universe allow people to hurt Jiaying and Daisy?

"Shield is not authorized for any action" *one second later* "Go"

"Bio always works" foreshadowing for 4x14!

The whole "Get down on her level or grab her and run like hell" scene is so heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time, and seeing this happen in 2x12, ugh I really love this show.

"Do good Melinda, but come home"

I know I haven't said too much on the Bahrain flashback, but I'm just so invested in it. Seeing the famous backstory of May come to fruition... it's all so amazing and painful all at the same time.

I always have and always will love May, and I understand May being upset that Coulson was keeping secrets from her, like seeing Andrew for counseling about the alien writing, but I feel like she was a little too harsh with him given the secrets she kept from him last season. I know that was for his own protection, but still. Again, I still feel like May has every right to be upset. Just the way she went about it just felt like an uncalled for reverse of last season. Just my opinion.

Were they trying to have some sort of romance thing between Gordan and Raina? I don't know... the whole "I can take you to amazing places" just gave me that vibe.

The connection between Jiaying and Bahrain is so chilling every single time.

AND THE KATYA REVEAL. There are so many moments from the show I want to watch for the first time again, and that is one of them. The realization for the audience and both May on what has to be done. Again, CHILLING.

I'm a more casual Philinda shipper, but I still love their friendship so much. The way Coulson ignored the Bahrainian forces and pushed past them when he heard the gunshot and went in for May. You can just see that friendship so clearly.

THE IMAGE OF MAY JUST CRADLING KATYA😭

"The Calvary went in after all"

"Let the girl go" CRYING

If I'm remembering correctly, Daisy must have been AT LEAST over six months old when she was dropped off at the orphanage. I'm pretty sure she was more. A six month old is very different from a newborn baby. How did they mess up her age by A WHOLE YEAR??

"He is a monster" "He was good once" THE FACT THAT THIS ALSO APPLIES TO JIAYING!! I feel so bad for her. Jiaying deserved better.

AND RAINA IS THE TRUE CLAIRVOYANT *cue the That's So Raina clip from Agents of SPOOF*

Way to go, Hunter. You've made it to Mexico!

I don't think I said this last episode, but I loved the Coulson-Hunter teamup.

2x18 Frenemy of My Enemy

The way Hunter is just avoiding eye contact with Fitz when Ward is mentioned lol.

Sad watching Cal like this, knowing Jiaying wants to send him away.

Again, was Lincoln aware of the relationship between Skye and Jiaying prior to this?

The Bobbi and Mack sparring scene is pretty cool too.

The "Simmons, what did you do" had May giving a hard Mom Face™

"Hey, baby😏" "Hey, sweetie😃"

That little interaction between Kara and Mike is so funny to me for some reason.

The whole Coulson wanting to use TAHITI on Ward still confuses me. Like yeah, Ward won't remember he was bad, but what about him being wanted?? Did Coulson have a plan for that?

I understand Jiaying has reservations against Raina, and rightfully so, cause of what she knows from Cal and Skye, but it still rubs me weird that she is questioning the existence of her gift knowing that anyone can be the first of their kind like Gordon.

From this point forward, the rest of the points are written like a month later cause school sucks, but it’s summer vacation now, so I have time finally!

So have Kara and Ward just been planning revenge on Bobbi for like a while or something?

So have Kara and Ward just been planning revenge on Bobbi for like a while or something?

Yes, Ward. That house is your last.

We love Mike cock-blocking them cause... gross.

“Gordo"

I love Cal. Just want to say that again.

I want more of Cal and Jiaying's love story. But then again, it'll probably make the whole thing even more sad than it already is and make me cry even harder.

Also funny how Skye was going to be brought up in the same state Coulson was born in.

“And I empathize" IF THIS DOESN'T EXPLAIN DAISY'S WHOLE CHARACTER I DON'T KNOW WHAT DOES.

SHUT THE FUCK UP WARD

I sort of kinda like Fitz and Simmons relationship in these later episodes of season 2 and the trust they are willing to put into each other.

JIAYING WANTED TO BE A DOCTOR😭

Cal wanted Skye to go to a charter school. Fun fact: I attended a charter school. Honestly, don't know what makes a chater school a charter school, but to me, my school was if you mixed a private school and public school and it was K-12. We wore uniforms, but there wasn't a tuition and it was opened to the public. You just had to be put onto a waiting list and you got in by lottery. I got in in 5th grade and graduated high school from there in 2019.

This scene reminds me of the Pirates of the Caribbean scene for some reason.

So, no one saw Mike's gun come out and go back in?

Cal complaining about capitalism is a mood.

“I'm kidding... sort of" about the liquor.

Skye's pickpocketing skills!!!!

Skye got the neopolatin ice cream sandwich. Love that for her.

See Lincoln, you could be a spy.

Hunter referring quantum entaglement as torture has the same energy as Scott Lang thinking of quantum entaglement as something sexual.

DAISY JOHNSON DAISY JOHNSON DAISY JOHNSON

And the soft Quake theme when she says her name for the very first time😭

The hula dancer🥺

I find it weird that Cal wanted to show the tools used to put Jiaying together. It might just be me, but I would be creeped out.

EVERYONE COMING TOGETHER!!!

Does Lincoln have any previous fighting experience? Cause he acts fast and knows what to do with his powers.

Also, despite everything, Skye still has faith in SHIELD and knows its Hydra.

It's cliche, but Skye falling on top of Lincoln is kinda cute.

Lincoln's face of recognition when trying to eletrocute Mike😂

“Sure, and I'm the Hulk"

Ward is still obsessed with Skye if he willingly followed Coulson like that.

I'd be a little pissed if I saw someone I trusted with Ward too, not gonna lie.

The way Skye was going to reunite with Coulson before Gordon got her🥺

SHIELD was that slow to get there?

Take me to your leader"

2x19 The Dirty Half Dozen

Excited for this one. One of my favorite episodes from this season.

Jiaying has such a maternal feel to her, which I love, but I always find it funny when she comforts Raina knowing that Ruth Negga is actually older than Dichen Lachman (only by like a month though).

I understand Jiaying's anger towards Cal after he revealed Skye's identity and relation to her when she had wanted that hidden.

Were there always those bright lights in the Cage? Cause it was always dark in there.

“I like seeing my Bus" I just remembered this is the last episode with the Bus, which continues to be my favorite SHIELD base/aircraft.

User-Friendly Cal™

I totally understand Jiaying's fears, but there are also the "never leave a man behind" values that Skye has.

So Mike and Lincoln are in the same cells that Wanda and Pietro were in, right? At least the same facility.

Love Mike's sarcasm.

Having to say "Hail Hydra" after every phone call must be annoying.

“Dazzled"

Coulson translation: "I'm taking my og team cause I love them and they're mine. Except for Ward, he's more of an inconvenience, but I need to use him"

There are windows other than the cockpit of the quinjet?

Don't worry Hunter, I'd be nauseous looking at Ward and Kara together.

Can May beat the shit out of Ward again? Please.

My Team™

I realized I haven't said much about Gonzalez. Is there even much to say?

I don't know if Coulson really had to tell May about seeing Andrew. Yeah, it hits a more personal nerve, I get that, and May can be upset, but I understand Coulson not wanting to discuss his own medical records.

Don't like Gonzalez saying the agents going on the mission are worth the risk, saying that they are more expendable than Bobbi. Bobbi's not expendable either, but I think you get what I'm saying.

THE OGs!

Jemma's first question being "Are you making friends?"🥺

I love the entire team death staring Ward.

“I'm still happy I shot you" ME TOO.

Jemma, Fitz, AND MAY agreeing with Skye is a whole mood.

“Ward, just no more talking to people" Yes, please shut him up.

That little comment about needles was all Kara needed from Bobbi.

Thinking about how they all had to pack their belongings from the Bus aka Skye's first real home.

And goodbye Bus. You were a great part of the show, and I will forever miss you.

“Really starting to wish I hadn't eaten that Hot Pocket earlier" is such a random line and I love it.

Also thinking about all the chaos the cast had while filming this scene. Between Chloe and Clark with the fart machine and Brett doing a little too much when they were "falling", I just love these cast moments.

Also an appreciation for Ponytail May.

Ward's confusion with Skye's powers will always be funny to me though.

“So that's what happened in Puerto Rico."

I also always think about how StaticQuake was a little interesting and weird for Chloe as she has a younger brother who is actually named Lincoln.

Ward's confusion and sass are enjoyable in this episode. A little. Only a little. Like a smidge.

ALSO THE ONE-SHOT FIGHT!!!

Chloe deserves all the recognition for that fight scene, especially since she broke her arm during it.

“Either come with me now or you're next" "Okay, after you" Always listen to Melinda May.

Bobbi and Mack's happiness when the mission is a success is nice though.

MARIA I LOVE YOU

Episodes like this make me wish I had watched the show when it was live.

2x20 Scars

KEONIGS!!!!!!

Call your sister" sticky note, LT FORESHADOWING

Glad to know SHIELD was the "friends" mentioned in Age of Ultron. I guess that's the only time the movies ever mentioned the show.

Thank you Bobbi for defending Coulson

Also, like how Coulson was able to see some of the errors that 'Real SHIELD' was right about.

Skye staying with Lincoln is giving major Sousa staying with Daisy vibes.

I wonder if the man's son Raina talked about eventually did go through the mist. I mean, he must have if Raina saw it. I'm just wondering when.

Oh yeah, this is the episode that introduced the monolith, that damn thing.

Okay, but why did SHIELD decide to keep the monolith from Hydra instead of, you know, destroying it.

People always are harsh towards Skye for siding with the inhumans for a bit there and uses it as an excuse to hate on her, but the way May and Coulson are already taking about the inhumans, asking "are they people" could give Skye the impression of what they may view her as. They kinda throw away her connection to the people and not listen to her when she tries to explain why she trusts them. Honestly, Skye has no reason to trust SHIELD right now as they chased her through the woods not too long ago.

I don't agree with Skye throwing Bahrain at May like that as she knows the trauma May has with it, but people also use it as another excuse to hate on Skye. May was egging her on, telling her the inhumans were dangerous. Yes, they were scared of the monolith. Another example of no one listening to Skye. Again, I don't think Skye should have thrown that at May, but I don't exactly use it against her overall character when May and Coulson were putting all that onto Skye.

Here they go with the Indexing. This is the part I don't agree with Coulson one bit. Indexing those with powers is a violation, and the show itself shows why it's a bad thing during season 4 with the Sokovia Accords.

“I miss my plane" ME TOO

THE HULA GIRL😭

“One of the greatest threats SHIELD has ever faced" You mean the innocent people who want nothing to do with you? and not, you know, THE NAZI ORGANIZATION THAT WAS IN YOUR ORGANIZATION FOR THE LAST 70 YEARS!?!?

I'm always indecisive if Gonzalez going in instead of Coulson was a good idea. Coulson is too close to the situation with Skye, but Gonzalez's views of these people are all wrong.

That "May" and Bobbi leaving scene was way too quick that the signs weren't there and may for an interesting reveal.

And here's Mack's first attempt at quitting. Wait til he finds out he's Director in 2019.

Mack joined SHIELD in 2002 (13 years prior to 2015).

“My people would never blindly follow me into a war" Until you start one...

“It's me who's changed" THIS LINE HURTS SO BAD

“I think we've been spending too much time together"

And the confusion of two Mays begins.

FUCK YOU WARD

How did they even get the coordinates with Afterlife? It was because they were watching Gordon, right?

Fun fact for those who may not know, the actress who played Alisha (the multiplier), Alicia Vela-Bailey, is also the stunt double for Bobbi and her husband (I don't know his name) was the stunt double for Ward, so the fight between them in the finale is essentially a husband and wife fight.

“I was always excited to meet you" AWWWWW

I love May, she's my favorite after Daisy, but her totally disregarding the fact that Gonzalez did in fact send agents to contain and possibly kill Skye rubs me the wrong way. Does that count as gaslighting? Another reason Skye was more inclined to side with the inhuman than SHIELD.

“I hope your mother was everything you wanted her to be" always hits me, especially when Daisy brings it back in 7x10.

The turn with Jiaying almost feels sudden, but the episodes leading up have small clues. Also, she's right. Her scars from Hydra are much deeper and painful than Gonzalez's.

There's a certain type of feeling hearing Jiaying, a victim, quote Whitehall, her absuer. It's creepy, but you know shit is about to go down.

I see so many reactors and podcasters call Skye stupid for siding with the inhumans, but from her side, it looks like SHIELD shot at Jiaying. She had no way of knowing. Given SHIELD's record at this point, I'd probably have the same reaction.

2x21 S.O.S. Part 1

Lincoln's little slide to Jiaying is funny to me. I don't know why.

I'll never understand Jiaying's order for the inhumans to fire on themselves. That is literally getting your people hurt.

And now the blame for "SHIELD" hurting the inhumans is all put on Skye. Someone please just tell this girl that none of this is her fault.

And a SHIELD agent literally shot an inhuman right in front of Skye. People really need to stop saying Skye chose wrong. She has no reason to believe SHIELD.

OOOHH SHE DREW BLOOD FROM MELINDA MAY

Small Ruben Mackenzie mention

May waking up from being unconscious with Cal singing is so funny for no reason. She is just immediately like "WTF??"

Coulson is the only one considering that Skye doesn't have the full story and understands why she's acting the way she is.

And the true purpose of Jiaying's power is revealed, and it is quite terrifying.

To be fair, Skye chose based on how people have been treating her.

“Generosity of others" Not sure that guy was willing to give up his life.

Surprised Jiaying didn't have much of a reaction to hearing her daughter had been shot before. She was literally on the verge of death.

“When I find him, I'm going to kill him" Yes, please do, May.

As someone who hates needles, Ward putting those needles in Bobbi's fingers always makes me feel sick.

“It's her usefulness" Don't really like Skye's value being her use.

“There's always someone else to blame" And there's Ward's entire character arc cause he can never take responsibility for his own morals and actions.

Bye Bye Raina. You were a fun and interesting character.

Also, Jiaying, say bye to your daughter cause you just lost her trust.

This was the one time (I think) that Jiaying called her Daisy by her birth name in front of her.

Why Spain, Ward?

To be fair, Ward, May chose you, not Coulson.

The knee break always gets me😬

I've said it before, but Skye's family story is so sad I feel so sorry for all of them.

And here, we start the great Daisy and Mack friendship/sibling-ship that becomes one of my favorite platonic relationships in the whole show.

How many multiples can Alisha make at once? Cause she makes three right now.

Mack is such a badass I love him.

Monster Cal is hilarious.

This SHIELD team just loves to run their cars into people, don't they?

2x22 S.O.S. Part 2

That damn battering ram.

Poor Cal. He just wanted his family back together.

I'm about to theorize about Jiaying's power. We know she can drain life, but then season 7 comes around, and it is implied that she can give life to heal others. So basically, is Jiaying like a holder for life? Like a container? She can drain life, but she hangs onto it, causing her to not age, until she is needed to heal someone else? Just a thought.

“Just you and me, Tremors" MY HEART!!!!!

“Not the skills I'm looking for" Glad someone remembers Skye's root abilities.

Thank you, Lincoln, for finally questioning Jiaying's intentions.

Ginger Ninjas™

I know how this episode ends, but Hunter slowly opening doors still makes me nervous.

Kara, do you really think you can outsmart Melinda May?

BOBBI NOOOOOOOO

HAHAHAHA THAT'S YOUR FAULT WARD

It's always small moments of May's expression going really soft that really show you how much she cares about her team. I love that she shows her love for them through her actions, but these small moments are really nice too.

I wanna know more about specialists like May's medical ability as May seemed to tend to Bobbi on the way back to base. Obviously, I feel like CPR is must from all agents, but like, to what extent at Operations were they taught medical treatments?

“I just wanted to hear your voice" MAY AND ANDREW WERE SO SWEET😭

“Do good Melinda, then get home safe." UGGHHHH MY HEART

Bobbi and Hunter's relationship making everyone question their love lives.

Also, I feel for Jemma. I always felt like her wanting to talk to Fitz felt like she was forced to by herself. Like she felt like it was something she had to do since their friendship would never be the same, so might as well try the love thing out. That's just how I felt about it.

Jiaying is such a great character. I constantly feel sorry for what has happened to her and who she eventually became.

“I'm the guy who kills Gordon" YES

Never mind, Jiayings says "Daisy" to Daisy at least one more time.

No-Eyes™

“Hiya Honey"😀

I don't like Jiaying throwing that back at Cal. He is trying to protect Daisy. At this point, he's protecting her from you.

“Trust me, you will miss"

Skye really did hold her own really well against the Ginger Ninjas.

Jiaying actually is right in the situation, but, like she said in 7x10, she went about it all wrong. The inhumans did simply need protection cause the world wasn't ready for them.

First time watching, I knew the moment Jiaying put her hand on Skye's face what was going to happen.

Jiaying calling her children her true gifts, but then turning around and betraying her own daughter.😭

QUAKE THEME (yes, I will say it time everytime it's there)

“We're not bad, we're misled" Another reason they shouldn't need the Index.

That stabbing sound is a heart attack waiting to happen. Was actually scared for Fitz when I watched it the first time.

Also goodbye Coulson's Left Hand™

Again, Johnson Family story is just so sad and heartbreaking. Feel sorry for Daisy, Cal, and Jiaying for everything that has happened to them.

AOS Don't Kill Jiaying By Snapping Her Spine Challenge is clearly a fail.

Prints for Zephyr 1!

I wanna see Bobbi on morphine.

I want someone to watch over me the way SHIELD men watch over their loved ones when they're hurt.

What does Bobbi actually mean when she says "I can't do this anymore"

“Cutting off my hand without asking"

Was Mack being in charge of alien artifacts ever said again after the finale?

YES MAY! YOU TAKE THAT BIKINI WITH YOU! YOU ALSO DESERVE THIS BREAK!

Who had Andrew recruited for the Secret Warriors at this point? File seems big.

“I imagined you perfect, and you're way more interesting than that" Wish my parents thought the same thing about me. I'm just projecting now.

SHIELD should have adopted an agency dog from Cal's practice.

SHE'S DAISY SHE'S DAISY SHE'S DAISY SHE'S DAISY

I love her.

If it's just Daisy, how come the file is big and Andrew said he already had names.

Daisy is worthy of touching and DRIVING Lola!

AND WE'RE ABOUT TO MEET SOME GREAT INHUMANS LIKE JOEY AND ELENA!

BYE SIMMONS! HAVE FUN ON ANOTHER PLANET FOR 4,722 HOURS!

Would just like to mention, Seasons 4 and 7 might be the most enjoyable seasons for me to watch, but season 2 will always have a special place in my heart. Not just cause Daisy is my favorite character, but being Half-Asian myself, seeing a Half-Asian character like Daisy discover herself and really dive deep into her heritage is something that’s just so special to me. I could go on and on how Daisy has made me feel seen and made me want to connect more with my Filipino heritage, but there just aren’t enough words to describe it. Just wanted to leave this here about why I love season 2 so much.

[nickfoo]

You know what for the heck of it and because I’m very curious what are your headcanons you have for Bege, Chiffon, Pez and the rest of the fire tanker crew. If your interested in sharing that is?

Welcome back!

And as for my head canons….whew you might want to strap in because I have quite a few. I’ll try to list what I can think of at the moment.

( I’ll put a read more because this might be long )

Bege:

- Grew up ultimately orphaned in the crime ridden West Blue. Left the home for boys he was at when he was a young age after punching a nun teacher and joined gangs and lived off the street.

- While his childhood certainly wasn’t pleasant, it’s not the reason why even as a young boy, Bege was a trouble child. Most likely had CD- symptoms including aggressive behavior, delinquent behavior, deceitful behavior, destructive behavior and lack of empathy. This also accounts for the whole cutting off animals heads thing he use to do.

- Was a natural during his time in the mob. He quickly excelled in the ranks and got closer to the bosses. There he saw the finer lives and decorum the bosses could afford, along with their reach of influence in the West Blue underworld. This made him break off into his own family, and the rest is history from there.

- When he first met Chiffon it was love at first sight. Despite the fact that he would have said that such a thing was completely and utter bullshit. It was a very confusing time for him, as he didn’t expect to have any feelings for the woman Big Mom would have chosen for him to marry - Bege rarely had any feelings for anything or anyone else at all. Part of Beges attraction to Chiffon is her strength and that she challenges him on his own nature.

- While after the 2 yrs of marrying Chiffon and having Pez has managed to teach him empathy 101, he is very self aware he is not a good person. This causes him occasional internal conflict as he honestly feels he doesn’t deserve a woman as kind as Chiffon. Part of his not denying his poor moral standing is he is a very ‘what you see is what you get’ kind of person concerning himself. He won’t hide or feel ashamed for what he is or what he’s done.

- While he has improved, Bege still has mental disorders that border on psychopathic and sociopathic behavior. ( both tend to be umbrellaed terms ) These disorders are life long, often stem from CD and don’t just go away. He tries to keep himself in check and when he can’t, his crew and family help him ground himself again.

- Bege reads to Pez every night before he sleeps. Bege gave up harder swears ( fuck, bitch ect. ) to clean up his example of speaking for Pez. Despite Pez being far too young, he tries to teach him about chess.

- Other tidbits- Bege dose not like being touched by others unless he knows them very well. He is very particular on certain matters of presentability, order and cleanliness. He isn’t so good at talking about more personal matters. Bad at feelings lol. Absolutely hates being bored.

Chiffon:

- When she first met Bege she was off put about him being older and shorter than her. She had also heard the rumors Big Mom was giving her away to a cold blooded, violent man and feared for her own life.

- She fell for Bege because in the end, he treated her with the love and care she had never received from her own family ( besides Lola ) in her life. Despite being royalty, she was only treated as such by Bege and his men.

- Chiffon was initially more quiet and timid until she married Bege and began to spend more time among him and his crew. It allowed her to really become herself.

- In their relationship, it is surely Chiffon who takes the lead. However on certain circumstances, Bege and Chiffon have a silent agreement that it is best for Bege to step in and take command. She often gets her way and Bege is happy to give it to her. ( this also stems to their -AHEM- more intimate relationship )

- Found Bege’s devil fruit to be one of the more unique types she’s seen. She can tell the small differences from when Bege is manifested inside his castle rather than using his real body outside. She once touched the purple smoke-like stuff he uses to manifest and it felt similar to the fog that comes out from dry ice machines.

- The strongest metal in the world could bend around the patience she has for her husband.

- Chiffon selects the books for Bege to read to Pez. She makes sure they’re appropriate for a child Pez age

- She is the head chef of the Fire Tank kitchen

Vito:

- Was chosen as Bege’s advisor due to his genuinely less cold demeanor and way of thinking. Bege wanted someone who would give him an opinion different than his own on matters

- Has suggested anger management techniques and grounding techniques to his captain

- He designed the Fire Tank logo with the fused T and F that he has tattooed on himself. He is very proud of it.

- paints his nails ( as they are black in the manga and the anime is a coward for not following suit )

- is the one of the better chess players in the crew and Bege is trying to teach him to be a better opponent at the game

Gotti and the Fire Tank Crew:

- They take being uncles to young Pez very seriously. Pez is loved by them all.

- The crew sometimes spy or over hear Bege and Chiffon flirting or being sweet to one another. It’s more like soap opera entertainment for them, plus they like to know their Boss is still very much in love with the Ma’dam. They think she’s good for him.

- Loyal to a fault. Particularly after Bege started treating them well, they certainly love him more than fear him now. ( Still fear him tho lol )

( that’s all I can think of for now. )

[songbirdstyles]

lola.

summary: a year in the life with professor harry, post graduation - part 2 of when i’m sixty four

pairing: professor!harry styles x reader

warnings: smut, fluff, some angst? pregnancy stuff!

word count: 18.6k

song inspo.: lola - the kinks

The day is going suspiciously well, so far, and it’s making you nervous.

You’d invited both of your families over for dinner and to break the news and you suppose you’d expected it to go about as horribly as post-graduation dinner had - that’s the last time you’d gathered both of your families in the same place, anyway. You and Harry visited Anne and Gemma quite a bit and you’d gone, on your own, to see your mother (wanted to scope out her feelings for your relationship before bringing Harry to see her again - and, luckily, she seems to be warming up to it) but you hadn’t made another attempt to stuff them in the same room together yet.

Until now. 

You’d made Harry swear to you that he wouldn’t tell his mum or his sister about the pregnancy until you could get everyone at the apartment to tell them together, and that’s what this is - you can hear them, laughing together in the living room from where you’re seated on the kitchen counter, watching Harry work over the stove. You’d been out there with them for a few minutes, laughing and sharing stories before you’d claimed you should probably go help Harry with dinner and retreated into the kitchen. Hearing them all seem to get along should make you feel better about the entire situation but all you can think about is how terribly everything will crash and burn when you finally tell them.

“Don’t y’think you should be out there with them? Making sure no fights break out, an’ whatnot,” Harry questions, turning to glance at you over his shoulder with one quirked eyebrow. “Like having you in here wit’ me, but …”

You shrug, picking at the seam of your jeans (that are beginning to fit a bit tighter than they usually do.) Both of you know that your excuse of wanting to keep him company while he cooks is absolute bullshit but you’re getting too nervous, sitting on the couch between your father and Gemma. Keep thinking that you’re gonna say the wrong thing, accidentally spill the secret before you’re ready. But you just shake your head at him, folding your hands on your lap. “They sound like they’re doing good. No need to interrupt their bonding, right?”

Harry merely hums, reaching down to turn off the stove and stirring his pasta sauce once more before resting his wooden spoon on top of the pot. “You need t’bond too. Been in here practically the entire time.”

“I’m just nervous,” you confess, voice drowned out by a sudden bout of laughter that you recognize to be your dad’s, coming from the sitting room. “My mum just started cooling down about our relationship - now we need to drop this on her.”

“We’re going to have t’tell her at some point. Better now, ‘cause she’s in a good mood.”

You ponder that, letting out a deep breath. You know you’re not being too great of a host, now, holed up in the kitchen instead of being out there but you can’t bring yourself to leave - “Are you almost done with dinner, then?”

He hums, turning around and leaning against the counter so you can meet his gaze. “Yeah - just the garlic bread, still in the oven. S’store bought, but I’m gonna tell your mum that it’s homemade, so jus’ back me up with that, would you? Want her to be impressed with me.”

You giggle, pushing yourself off of the counter and closing the distance between you two. Your arms loop around his neck and his hands instinctively land on your waist, smoothing over your skin through the fabric of the loose shirt you’re wearing - you’d been too paranoid to wear anything tight, because you swear your stomach is starting to round out, just a bit, now that you’ve reached the 11 week mark. “She’ll ask you for the recipe, you know. What’re you gonna do then?”

“Not sure,” he shrugs, leaning down to land a soft kiss on your lips when you pucker them at him impatiently. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, I guess.”

“Sounds like a faulty plan,” but you can’t help the grin from breaking out across your face. You press another kiss to his lips before breaking away, deciding to make yourself useful and reaching up into the cabinet above your head to grab a stack of plates. “I’ll set the table, if the garlic bread will only take a minute or two.”

Harry nods as you pick up the napkin holder, resting it on top of the plates and rifling through the utensil drawer to pick up the six knives and forks you need. “If you’re leaving, maybe you should talk to our family. They probably think you’re mad at them, or something.”

“I doubt they think I’m mad at them,” you tell him, bumping the drawer shut with your hip when you have all of the utensils, firm in your hand. “Why would we invite them over if I’m mad at them?”

“To make amends?”

“For what? Haven’t seen them in weeks.”

“You’re missing the point,” and then Harry rolls his eyes with a small smile, turning back to the stove. “Jus’ go. The bread’s gonna be done in a minute.”

So you do - pad out of the kitchen with your hands full, make your way to the kitchen table that’s been stripped of the usual flower vase that usually sits in the center. Marie sits on top of the table, as though daring you to remove her, but you do, anyway - pick her up, ignoring her soft, angry meows, and set her on the ground with a soft apology and an order to shoo. Immediately you rest the plates on the counter, setting the forks and knives down beside it before getting to work - out of the corner of your eye you can see everyone gathered on the sofas, chattering loudly, and hearing them all getting along makes you smile, now.

Also out of the corner of your eye you can see your mother standing up from her spot, pressed between your father and the arm of the sofa. Then she’s walking towards you, the sound of her low heels on the hardwood making you turn your head to look at her from where you’d been folding six napkins in half.

“Hey, mum,” you call once she’s close enough to hear you without your dad’s rambunctious laughter infiltrating your ears. “Dinner’s gonna be ready in just a minute, alright?”

“Alright.” And you expect her to turn around, head back to where she’d come from, but instead she reaches for the plates, pulling the first one off the top of the stack and beginning to place it around the table. “I just figured I’d help you set the table - if you don’t mind, of course.”

You shake your head, feeling a smile tugging at your lips as you fold the sixth and final napkin in half, beginning to rest them next to the plates your mum is setting up. “‘Course I don’t mind.”

There’s only another brief second of silence between the two of you, as your mother meticulously adjusts every plate so they’re all perfectly aligned with the napkins you’re lying out, until she pauses, hand resting on the edge of one of your white, porcelain plates, finally saying, “It looks like you and Harry have a nice thing going here.”

You pause where you’re beginning to lay out the forks and knives on top of the napkins, trying to resist the urge to grin (or maybe cry, if you’re being honest) as you nod slowly. “Yeah, we do.”

“The apartment is very nicely decorated. Did you decorate it?”

“Mostly Harry, actually,” you admit to her, which is mostly true, anyway, and you relish in the surprise that lingers, ever so slightly, in her eyes. “He lived here for a while before I moved in, so most stuff is his.”

She hums softly and you can hear the oven ding from the kitchen, then Harry shuffling to take the garlic bread out, and then your mother says, “Well, I’m very glad you’re happy. I know I don’t always show it - but if you love Harry and Harry loves you, I’m fine with it.”

God, you really could cry at that, and you’re not sure if it’s solely because of the hormones like you’d love to believe. You’d talked to your mother more times than you could possibly count since she found out about you and Harry and this is the first time she’s ever admitted she’s alright with your relationship - it only makes sense that you would get emotional.

But you swallow the lump in your throat, giving her a small smile from across the kitchen table. “Thanks, mum. That means a lot,” and she looks so relieved with your response that you wonder if the sudden slight animosity between you two had been affecting her as much as it had been affecting you. 

You wonder if she’ll be fine with it once you tell her that Harry knocked you up - but you’ll worry about that later.

Later comes entirely too soon, though, once you’re seated at the dinner table with bowls of pasta and tomato sauce spread out in front of you. Harry sits beside you, arm thrown across the back of your chair as though he can sense how nervous you’re feeling - you’ve barely picked at your pasta and only taken a bite of your garlic bread (which tastes, for the record, absolutely homemade, and not like it was picked up at the store.) Harry’s an excellent cook and what you have eaten, you’ve thoroughly enjoyed, but you feel like if you eat too much you’ll throw it back up.

“This is delicious, Harry,” your dad declares, reaching towards the bowl of pasta for his third helping in the past ten minutes. “You could be a chef, you know.”

Your boyfriend laughs at that, fork full of pasta hovering barely an inch from his mouth. “M’not sure about that - can really only make pasta, to tell you the truth.”

That’s not true, you want to say - Harry cooks nearly all the meals for you two and he’s spectacular at it. Can recreate any recipe first try and make it better than the original - but you can’t bring yourself to interject into the conversation. You feel like you might throw up, to be honest, so you merely flash Harry a tight lipped smile and glance back down at your plate, collecting a piece of pasta onto your fork.

Harry seems much more relaxed than you - diving into a story about how he used to cook when he was a child - which checks out, of course. You had no doubt that Anne and Gemma would be over the moon about the pregnancy, judging from the many dinners and brunches you’d had with them. It was, really, only your mother who would present any sort of issue, and you’d taken to worrying about it much more than Harry had.

“Y/N,” Anne begins from across the table, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts almost immediately, giving her a smile that, you hope, doesn’t put on display just how nervous you’re feeling, “do you like to cook, too?”

You understand her intention - she’d probably assumed, from your almost complete lack of contribution to the conversation, that you’d been feeling left out - but having five pairs of eyes suddenly on you makes you feel significantly more nervous than before, and Harry’s hand lands comfortingly on your shoulder. It takes just a beat too long for you to reply but finally, you reply, “Um - I’m not too good at cooking, honestly. Pretty rubbish at it, actually. I like to bake, though.”

Harry swoops in, then, squeezing your shoulder and continuing, “She’s great at baking! Should try her brownies some time.”

Have you ever made brownies that weren’t from a box? 

You swallow thickly, resting your fork on your plate, and then you add, “I’m best at making things that come from boxes.”

There’s a collective laugh at that, and then your mother pipes up with a story from when you were a kid and she’d tried to get you to help her bake cupcakes for a fundraiser - you’re not quite listening, especially when Harry uses his hand on your shoulder to pull you in to him, lips brushing your ear when he whispers, “I think we should tell ‘em now. Right now.”

You pause, shooting him an alarmed look before he continues, “You’re a bloody wreck, babe, m’sorry. Look like you’re gonna have a nervous breakdown. Wouldn’t y’rather get it over with?”

No, you want to say. You’d rather never do it, but the thought of spending the rest of dinner so nervous you can hardly stand to eat seems akin to torture. Whatever reaction the news garners from your families won’t change whether you do it now or in twenty minutes - why put it off?

So you nod, head jerking up and down once, and Harry squeezes your shoulder again, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of your temple. Your hand nearest him lands on his knee, squeezing onto the fabric of the loose jeans he’s wearing. 

“Actually,” and Harry’s voice cuts through the mixture of laughter erupting at the table. He waits a minute, for it to calm down - in the meantime, he glances at you again, fingers rubbing into your shoulder, and your hand smooths over his knee. There’s a lot being said, in the brief second your eyes lock while he waits for the attention to land on him - it’ll all be okay, and then no matter what, we have each other and the everpresent I love you that lingers whenever you look at him. And - finally - when there’s only expectant silence at the table, Harry breaks your gaze, turning back to your families with a small, nervous smile. “We have something t’tell you all.”

 —

 You’d had today marked on your calendar for weeks, it should be said.

As soon as your doctor - Dr. Ferguson, who Kaitlyn, weirdly, had convinced you to go to - had told you that at your next appointment, we’ll likely be able to tell the baby’s gender, you and Harry hadn’t been able to shut about it. You’d facetimed Anne that night, told her that in two weeks time, we’ll know the gender! And you’d texted your parents the same news - even if they weren’t as immediately excited about the pregnancy as Anne and Gemma, the celebratory Bitmoji they’d sent back made you smile, anyway.

You’d left the house twenty minutes early and still managed to nearly be late, getting stuck in traffic and waltzing into the office with less than two minutes to your appointment. Harry had gone to check you in while you’d perched yourself onto one of the waiting room sofas with cushions that were oddly sticky against your palms, and your knees jiggled up and down as your eyes scanned the room you’d become entirely too familiar with - the wall of pamphlets next to the restroom, the framed photos of happy mothers and pregnant women. There’s exactly one other person waiting in the chair across from you, legs curled beneath her and face buried in a magazine, and you feel oddly uncomfortable staring at her but you feel too nervous to do anything else.

“Said it may be a bit of a wait,” Harry murmurs to you when he’s done signing you in - his arms instinctively wrap around your shoulders, and you rest your head on his with a deep breath. “Somethin’ about her last patient runnin’ late, or something. So - that's good”

You nod, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as you lean into your boyfriend. You’re not sure if he’s feeling half as nervous as you are but something about the way he keeps drumming his hand on his thigh, humming softly beneath his breath, convinces you that he might be. So - to break the tension, because there’s something truly terrible about seeing Harry nervous when you’re usually the worrier - you ask, voice hardly above a whisper (out of courtesy for the woman across from you,) “What do you think it’ll be?”

“A boy,” Harry whispers back with not a moment of hesitation, and you furrow your eyebrows at him. “What? I reckon we’re gonna have a little Harry Jr. in there,” and he pats your stomach for good measure.

“You’re crazy,” you tell him, playfully swatting his hand away from you. “I’m almost positive it’s a girl - isn’t there a maternal instinct, for these kinds of things?”

“There’s a paternal instinct too, you know.”

“I don’t think so.” And then you pause, staring up at the smooth white ceiling above you with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “And if it is a boy, I’m putting my foot down on Harry Jr.”

Harry huffs playfully, and there’s a pause between you two before he says, “Should we bet on it?”

You give the words a moment to sink in, and then push yourself off of him, glaring at him and trying (and failing, naturally) to hide the smile that threatens to tug up your lips. “I’m not betting money on the gender of our baby - that’s terrible, professor, really.”

“I never said money,” he interjects, crossing his arms over his chest with one side eye glance at the woman across from, still hunched over the magazine she’s reading. “If he’s a boy, I get a blowjob.”

Your cheeks burn immediately and you raise your hand up, swatting his shoulder with an apologetic glance to the lady across from you, who’s looking up from her magazine with an absolutely affronted look. “Harry!”

But he merely continues on as if he’d been talking about the weather. “And if he’s a girl - well, what do you want if you win?”

Where he was rather blasé about discussing your sex life in front of a poor stranger, you can’t bring yourself to tell him exactly what you’d want if you’re right - so you shrug, focus your eyes on tugging at a loose thread in his sweater. You’d made him change out of the t-shirt he’d been wearing and change into this thick sweater Anne had given him for Christmas - it was December, after all, and he’s terrible when he’s sick. “Well - um - I want you to do the laundry for a month.”

He raises his eyebrow, staring at you with a slightly amused smile, and then questions, “That’s it?”

You can feel your cheeks burning up even more as you continue to pluck at Harry’s sweater. “And - you can’t complain when I wear your clothes.”

“I don’t complain, baby, you know I love when you -”

“And,” you continue, flicking him in the forehead to cut him off. “There’s something else that I won’t say here, because we’re in public, but I’ll tell you in the car.”

Harry raises his eyebrows again and you can’t resist the urge to laugh, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder for a moment to regain whatever semblance of composure you could scrap together. His fingers tug at the ends of your hair as you pull your head back up to look at him, and when your eyes have met he says, “Well, that’s actually quite the long list of things to do if it’s a girl, so I’m changing mine to three -”

Whatever he was going to say (and you had a pretty good guess) is cut off immediately at the sound of one of the nurses calling your name, and your eyes widen with an air of slight nervousness before you both stand - smile at the nurse and follow her down the hall to the exam room that you’ve come to know entirely too well, even if you’re not too far into your pregnancy.

When the nurse leaves the exam room you clamber onto the table, feet knocking into each other you lie back. Harry settles into one of the chairs beside you, pointedly pulling it closer so he can rest his chin on the table. “Are y’going t’tell me the third thing you want if you’re right - which you’re not?”

You merely roll your eyes, turning your head so you can look at him. “Rather like sitting on your face - guess I’ll opt for that, before I get so big I’ll suffocate you if I try.”

He frowns at that, pressing a kiss to your hand where he’s got your fingers intertwined with his. “M’a big boy, you know. I’ll always let you sit on m’face - think I love it more than you do.”

You know he’s wrong but you just press your palm to his cheek, letting him rest his head into your hand before saying, “Don’t think you’re gonna be singing that tune when I’m the size of a whale.”

“Are you kidding?” you’re not, clearly, and he scoffs as if he’s offended by the mere concept of it. “I’ll be singing it until the day I die. I’ll let you sit on my face every single day, jus’ to prove it to you. Don’t laugh - I’m being serious!”

But you can’t maintain any sort of serious composure for more than a moment without grinning, so you rest your head back and gaze up at the ceiling while Harry continues to fuss about how much of a disgrace it is - that you’d ever dream of yourself being too big to sit on his face, but you opt to merely block him out, feeling your own worries starting to swell back up in your mind now that you’re not focused on talking to him. You don’t care, truthfully, if your baby is a boy or a girl. You’d be just as happy with either but for as long as you’d known you were pregnant, you’d sworn up and down that it’s a girl. Blamed it on your maternal instinct and all that, because you simply knew you were having a daughter.

If you’re wrong, does that mean you have no maternal instincts? Are you going to be a bad mother?

The door to the exam room opens again before you can focus too much on it, and Harry’s ranting about you sitting on his face ends so abruptly you could swear he’d never even opened his mouth. Dr. Ferguson gives you both wide smiles, asks the general questions - how’s it going? How’s baby? How’s mom? And you squeeze Harry’s hand when she finally settles beside you, turning the ultrasound machine on, and you reach down to tug your sweater up.

“Generally, 15 weeks is where we can determine the baby’s gender - assuming they’re in the right position to check,” Dr. Ferguson tells you, using the probe to spread the cold gel on top of your stomach. Your fingertips drum against the back of Harry’s palm as she asks, “Do you guys think you want to know the gender of the baby?”

You nod furiously as Harry proclaims, “Yes - definitely. Been talking about it for weeks, haven’t we?” And - because he tends to ramble a bit when he’s nervous - he continues, “I think s’a boy - she reckons it’s a girl. We’ve got a bet going, about it, too -” and that’s where you squeeze his hand and shoot him a glare to shut the hell up.

The doctor merely chuckles at the pair of you, raising a manicured nail to point at the ultrasound screen as she moves the probe closer to your lower tummy. “Unfortunately for you, Mr. Styles - I think you’ve lost the bet.”

There’s a pause after that, the both of you letting the words settle in.

If he lost the bet - then that means -

“It’s a girl?”

Harry’s words come out in barely a breath, and you can feel the familiar prickling in the back of your eyes as you squeeze Harry’s hand. 

“You two are having a girl,” Dr. Ferguson confirms, a smile spreading across her face as she watches the two of you - your eyes well up with tears as you turn to look at Harry, his mouth dropped open and upturned ever so slightly in a wide grin. Your eyes meet and you swallow thickly, not bothering to try and hide the smile that graces your features as he stands up, throwing his arms around you in a tight hug. Neither of you pay much mind to the doctor as she murmurs, “I’ll go and get your prints,” and slips from the room, but you’re beyond thankful - you need a moment with him, for this.

As soon as the door shuts you let the tears drip down your cheeks, burying your face in Harry’s sweater and wrapping your arms around his torso with a soft hiccup. His voice is soft when he mutters, “Can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby girl - God, you were right.”

Your cold hands slide up his sweater, smoothing up his warm back, and you can feel him jump at the contrast of temperatures - “I knew it,” you can’t help but declare quietly, voice crackling wetly as you sniffle. “Our little girl. I knew it.”

He chuckles, which is mostly a soft exhale into your hair. “Can’t believe you’re turning this into a told you so moment.”

“Only saying that ‘cause you lost.”

There’s no response from your boyfriend for a moment - mostly because he knows you’re right - just his arms tightening around you. “Oddly enough, I don’t quite think I mind losing.” The sentiment is sweet and you pull back, leaning up to press a lingering kiss to the underside of his jaw, and you almost miss the mischievous smile spread across his face, even if the way he’s rubbing your back is ultra innocent.  “I get a daughter and my ultra hot girlfriend is sitting on m’face tonight - what more could I ask for?” And, for that, you smack his shoulder again, laughing through the joyful tears blurring your vision.

 —

 “Are you honestly mad at me right now?”

You huff, sinking lower into the couch at Harry’s mocking tone. Truthfully - though you wouldn’t admit it to him - you are feeling just a bit cross, as you stare at the ten cards in your hands that are nowhere close to being a run of seven. “No,” you tell him, shorter than you’d anticipated. “But you’re three phases ahead of me, and I feel like you’re rubbing it in.”

Harry rolls his eyes playfully, resting his elbows on the coffee table across from you. You’d started out both sitting on the couch, but then you swore you caught him peeking at your cards and banished him to the other side of the coffee table, on the ground, no matter how many times he promised he was just changing the music blaring from his phone. (Which, for the record, you didn’t believe, because he was a firm believer in letting the music play out and never changing it.) “Baby, m’not rubbing it in. Jus’ playing the game.”

“You keep skipping me,” you mumble, barely audible over Ring of Fire coming from his phone on top of the table.

“S’how you play the game. So if you happen to go out, m’not stuck with 15 extra points.”

“You know I’m never going to go out, right?” And just to prove your point, you reach in to grab a card from the deck, rolling your eyes when you see it. It’s another three, your fourth one, and you rest it on top of the discard pile with a pointed glare at Harry. 

He merely shakes his head, reaching in to take a card. “I don’ even know why you wanna play Phase 10 all the time, ‘cause you always get mad at me when we do.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, a frown tugging the corners of your lips downwards. “That’s not true! I don’t get mad at you. Just get irritated, because you’re good at it, and you always beat me.” There’s a pause while you wait for Harry to discard a card, and when you look up at him, he’s gazing at you with a slightly guilty look in his eyes. “You’ve got to discard a card, Har.”

And then, instead of putting a card down on the discard pile, he lays down his cards on the table - a set of sevens and a set of tens. Your shoulders slump as you stare at his completed phase and then at the cards in your hand, still a jumbled mix of numbers with absolutely no hope of becoming a run anytime soon. 

“M’sorry for this, honey,” Harry tells you, voice faux sweet, and you look back up just in time to catch him placing his skip down on the discard pile, making it his turn again. And, just as you open your mouth to say something, he reaches for the deck and pulls a card. You watch, feeling heat creep up your neck, as Harry slaps a wild card down next to his set of sevens and then presses his final card - a two - into the discard pile - fuck.

“Jesus fuck,” you exclaim, tossing your cards down onto the coffee table. Harry’s staring at you with a smug, satisfied grin on his face, and you could reach over and slap it right off. “How?”

“S’just luck,” he tells you, as if he’s the master at it, as he reaches over to collect your cards off the table. “You’ll get it next time, alright? S’just a game, it’s fine.”

“It’s easy for you to say.” You cross your arms over your chest as Harry mouths the point values of your cards, flicking through your stack. “Mr. ‘I’ve-Gone-Out-Every-Single-Time.’”

He snorts at that, grabbing all of the cards strewn about the coffee table and shuffling them together. “You had two skips, y’know. Why didn’t you skip me? 15 points each.”

“Because I felt bad,” you tell him, frown deepening at the way he barks out a laugh. “Why’re you laughing? Was just trying to be nice.”

Beside Harry, resting on the carpet, is the stray piece of notebook paper he has to add up your scores with each round, and you sigh, reaching for the stack of cards so you can begin shuffling them. “The point of the game isn’t to be nice, baby. You’ve gotta play your skips - that’s why you’re 325 points behind me.”

You can’t put your finger on why you’re getting so worked up over this. It is just a game and you know that but you’ve always been competitive. You’d been rather proud of how, nearly 21 weeks into your pregnancy, mood swings hadn’t been hitting you as hard as you’d expected - but, God, they’re getting you now. And Harry is four phases ahead of you now, and what’s worse than being beaten is that it is just luck, which means yours is being really shitty right now, and you’re tired of it.

You focus your eyes towards your lap where you’re working on shuffling the deck as the song segues to Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, just a bit too loud for you to handle. “I just wanted to be nice,” you repeat, cringing at the voice crack that cuts through your sentence. From the corner of your eye you can see Harry’s head snap up as he hears it, his brows furrowed. “God, I hate this game.”

There’s another beat of silence, and then Harry’s pushing himself up off the floor, coming to sit beside you on the couch. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you to him (as close as he can get, with your rounded tummy between you both) as his lips land on the top of your head, and, as nice as he’s being, you can feel how his lips are turned up into a grin. “Are you going to cry?”

“No,” you insist, but the frustrated tears prickling the back of your eyes are on its way to proving you otherwise as you lean your head into his shoulder.

Harry’s hand smooths up and down your back soothingly as you sniffle into his shoulder pathetically. “Sorry for teasing you,” he murmurs, barely heard against the music, and you nod slowly. “You’re jus’ being nice, and that’s very sweet, even if it goes against the point of the game -” and, for that, you raise your hand up and land it against his shoulder with a firm slap, and he laughs - “but I’m sorry, really.”

You press your cheek to his shoulder, leaning in to press a small kiss to the side of his neck. “It’s just hormones, I reckon. Didn’t mean to get so upset.”

“Should have a word wi’ the little one,” Harry murmurs, sliding his hand around from your back to your stomach. The second he’d started to notice your stomach growing he’d become obsessed with feeling it, which you suppose you should have been expecting all along, really. “Tell her not to make mommy so sad, right?” You exhale a soft giggle at that, and he hums contentedly. “But I guess s’my fault too, getting all the good cards.”

You lift your head up, pulling away slightly so you can look into Harry’s slightly amused eyes, and he’s still smiling softly. “Awfully rude of you to be so good at Phase 10,” you tell him, pouting dramatically as you gaze at him through your watery lashes. You’re already feeling quite a bit calmed down and also fairly silly for getting so upset about something so trivial, but what’s done is done, you suppose.

He nods, and you can see the laugh he’s struggling to conceal as he tries to keep up his serious facade. “It is rude of me,” Harry agrees. “I can be a real asshole sometimes.”

“A real asshole.” 

“Should probably make that up to you, right? But how will you ever forgive me?”

You pause, pretending to think as you gnaw at your bottom lip, eyes darting around the apartment as if searching for ideas. “Dunno. You’re really gonna have to work for it, professor.”

The instant effect the name has on him never fails to amuse you as his gaze darkens - hardly noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know him as well as you, but you can read him like a book. Harry’s thumb swipes up to wipe at the tears, still brimming in your lower lash line, as he says, “Lay back f’me, then.”

You grin as Harry unwinds his arms from around you, shifting backwards until you lie across the sofa, instinctively throwing your legs across his lap, just to watch the way he playfully rolls his eyes. His hands smooth up and down your calves, fingertips drumming against your skin, and you push yourself onto your elbows. Wiggle your feet at him, and Harry smiles at you. “Don’t think you’re far enough along to need foot massages.”

“First, I absolutely am, and second, I don’t need them,” you agree, “but I want them.”

“Another time,” he promises, shifting off the couch so he’s on his knees beside it. One soft kiss lands at your ankle and it sends shivers through your body as you watch him, shifting so he’s positioned between your thighs. Harry leads a trail of kisses up your legs, hands following behind his mouth, massaging up your legs until he reaches the soft skin of your thigh. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him, lips attaching to your inner thigh, suckling in a love bite. He loves leaving marks in places only he sees - your ass, namely, and your thighs and your boobs and everywhere else that’s reserved for him. In summer it becomes a problem, when you have to don swimsuits and shorts to bear the heat, but it’s January, now, so you let him go wild with his hickeys.

“Harry,” you groan, reaching down to curl your fingers into his hair. He looks up at you with a bemused look in his eyes, tongue lapping over the mark he’d left on your thigh. “Don’t tease me.”

He chuckles breathily, blowing softly on your wettened skin, and you whimper quietly. “M’not teasing,” Harry assures you, hands working up your thighs until he reaches the hem of your panties, fingers hooking into them to begin pulling them down your legs. “Jus’ taking my time.”

You lift your hips up so he can discard the offending material, tugging them off of your ankles and tossing them onto the coffee table, right on top of the abandoned Phase 10 cards. Fingernails scratch against Harry’s scalp, twirling his curls around your fingers, and you can see the blissful smile that briefly graces his features before he returns to the matter at hand. He grips the bottom of the oversized shirt you’re wearing, pulling it up around your waist, and then he mumbles, “Bloody hell, s’that my shirt?”

You laugh, the noise soft and barely perceptible over the horns in Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You. What you want to say is that, truthfully, his large shirts are one of the few that fit your stomach, so you opt for them most times - but Harry isn’t looking for a response. He just grabs your wrist, drags it to your waist where the shirt is bunched up, and you take the hint to grab onto the material, pulling it up over your stomach. Make sure he has enough room to work, without it getting in the way.

“God,” he mutters, grabbing your thigh to hoist it up, putting your glistening pussy on display for him. “You’re so beautiful, y’know that?” You can feel emotions bubbling in your chest with just the small compliment, and further as he breathes, “Not sure how I got so lucky. M’fucking obsessed with you.”

You’re beyond thankful that he doesn’t look up into your eyes again, because you’re not sure that he’d ever let you live this down - your eyes, filled with tears about to trickle down your cheek while he’s inches from your cunt. But he merely leans in, presses a soft kiss to your clit, and you’re too distracted by the sudden jolt of pleasure to think about the moisture building up in your eyes.

You moan at the same time Harry does, his tongue licking up between your folds. His noise rolls through your body and you toss your head back, hitting against the arm of the sofa with a long whine, cunt clenching around nothing as he laps at you. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you slump against the couch, not bothering to try and hold yourself up to see what he’s doing to you.

But - well, you should’ve remembered that Harry is a stickler for eye contact, and within moments of your gaze being torn from where he’s working at you, he stops. Pulls away so the only place you can feel him is his hand on your thigh, holding you up, and you push yourself up again to glare at him. “No teasing, Harry, please -”

“Y’gotta look at me,” Harry tells you, raising his eyebrows. “Come on, baby. Wanna see your pretty face - yeah, that’s a good girl.”

A soft moan escapes your throat at the pet name, and you focus your attention on not dropping your gaze from Harry’s head between your thighs. He takes a second to make sure your eyes are firmly on him, and then you’re groaning for fuck’s sake, professor, do something, and he’s back to it. His hand that’s not maintaining grip on your thigh joins his tongue at your pussy, spreading your lips apart to give him easier access to exactly where you need him. You watch as his tongue flexes, sliding into your dripping hole, fingers working at your clit.

“Oh, fuck!” you gasp, walls fluttering around Harry’s tongue. Your clit is pulsing with the pressure of his finger, rubbing circles into the sensitive nub, and with your eyes focused on him you can catch exactly the way his lips upturn into a cocky smirk. He’s the only one who can make you fall apart like this and he knows it, and it should bother you but it only turns you on more. “God, Har, keep doing that, please.”

Harry hums softly, “M’not planning on stopping,” as his tongue dips in and out of your cunt, lapping up every last drop of your arousal lingering on your folds. “Tell me how good it feels, baby. C’mon, wanna hear how much you love it.”

What a dick, you think as you stare down at him. Harry’s fingers slide down from your clit to your hole, replacing his tongue, pumping in and out of you. The first curl of his digits brushes against that hidden spot inside of you and your hips roll forward into his hand as his lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking firstly against it before he hollows his cheeks out and sucks. “Oh - god, Harry! Feels so good, love it so much -”

Your eyes meet his again and he raises his eyebrows, silently egging you on, and you continue, voice high pitched and breathy as you cry, “Please, make me feel good, please!”

“That’s m’girl,” Harry grunts, fingers digging into your thigh so hard it’s sure to leave marks, and then his face is sinking back into your folds - his tongue licks up your folds, nose nudging your clit, and you collapse back against the couch. If he was focused on watching you surely he would see how you’ve abandoned the eye contact but he’s paying attention solely to the pleasure he’s giving you. His tongue flattens as he licks up your folds, two fingers still pumping in and out of your heat so fast and hard you can hear the sounds of your wetness. “Taste so fucking good.”

His voice is muffled against your pussy and you lower your gaze back down to him, chest heaving as your grip tightens both on his hair and the fabric of your shirt, still hiked around your waist. Your fingernails dig into his scalp so hard that you know you’re leaving small, crescent shaped indents into the soft skin of his head but it never seems to bother him - you can hear him whine into your cunt, proving your point. 

The hand on your thigh drops and your leg falls over his shoulder - it, instead, sneaks up your stomach and into the bunched up material of your shirt, palm resting overtop of your tits through the sports bra you’re wearing, the one with cherries on it, and his hand squeezes around the mound of flesh just as his teeth graze your clit. Both sensations have you tossing your head back with a sob and Harry pulls away briefly, strands of saliva connecting him to your core, as if begging him to return to where he’d been working at.

You love seeing him like this - nearly unhinged in his quest to get you off, eyes lust blown and pupils so wide they’ve overtaken all the green in his orbs. Harry is so desperate to make you feel good and you can see it in his eyes, as he presses a kiss to the top of your mound before returning his tongue to your clit.

Your pussy is clenching relentlessly around his fingers, hips bucking up into him at a staccato rhythm - you’re going to cum, you’re right there, and he knows it. Harry’s tongue swirls around your clit again and again as his fingers curl into you, hitting the perfect spot inside of you over and over until all of your muscles tense, your eyes roll back, and -

“Fuck, yes,” Harry moans, pulling his head back to watch you come undone beneath him, body spasming with the force of your orgasm. His fingers still slowly thrust in and out of you, forcing your orgasm onwards until you’re reaching down, grabbing his wrist and pulling it away from your cunt. “Doin’ so good f’me, yeah.”

You can hardly breathe once you’re finally coming down, gasping for air as Harry rests his cheek to your inner thigh, fingertips dancing up and down your hips. Your clit is throbbing with the intensity of it all and your body feels weak, like you couldn’t move even if you tried, and Harry’s face looks just as self satisfied as you’d expected.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, loosening your grip on Harry’s hair, smoothing your fingers over the skin you’d been assaulting. “Jesus, fuck, you’re good at that.”

Harry chuckles, then, pressing one wet, open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before rising up from his spot, kneeling on the ground, to sit back on the sofa. He grabs the material of your shirt, tugging it back down to cover your body. “Did I make it up to you?” And, when your brows furrow ever so slightly in confusion, he says, “‘Cause I beat you in Phase 10.”

You grin, reaching out for Harry’s hand so you can push yourself to sit up, leaning against the arm of the sofa. His thumb smooths over the back of your palm, watching you with a look of pure adoration in his eyes, and you’re sure yours look much the same. “I guess so,” you shrug, working on the act of faux nonchalance, even if you know he doesn’t believe it. 

“Well, that’s good,” he proclaims, leaning forward to rest his body between your legs, pressing a kiss to your lips softly. “Hope I get t’fuck you now. Can hardly wait - was gonna cum in m’pants, watching you get off.”

His words make your stomach flip and your clit pulse, and you want nothing more than to pull him down to you, let him fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow. But you cross your arms over your chest, staring into his overly confident eyes as you decide, “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you confirm, relishing in the way Harry’s shoulders droop, how his eyebrows crease in confusion. You shift away from him, swinging your legs over the edge of the sofa so you can focus back on the Phase 10 cards, still set up on the coffee table. “If you win your next phase, I’ll let you fuck me, to make up for you being rude again.”

There’s silence between you two as Harry stares at you, mouth parted in shock, looking positively bewildered until he asks, “Are you serious?”

You nod.

“What happens if you win?”

You both know you won’t win - you’ve been on the same phase while Harry has gone through four - but you pretend to think, already reaching down to the table for the stack of cards. You brush your panties off of them, letting them fall to the floor. “If I win, I’ll let you fuck me, ‘cause I lost.”

Harry nods slowly, and then says, “So I’ll fuck you either way?”

“Well, yeah,” and then you resume shuffling the deck. “But I just like making you wait.”

 —

 You have to say - you think you’re getting pretty good at grading essays.

Through your entire relationship you’ve loved to help Harry grade stuff, and it’s always been easy for you, because you’ve completed every essay and every exam and done great on all of them (with the exception of 1984, so Harry pointedly does not let you grade those.) And it’s fun, too, turning up music and sitting at the kitchen table, humming along to the tunes and occasionally asking the professor what he thinks about a certain word, or if the flow of a certain sentence sounds too wonky to ignore.

Sometimes, though - sometimes, it’s not too fun.

Harry had been putting off on grading the essays he’d assigned on The Fountainhead, which is, if you recall, the only essay you’d written for his class that made you consider dropping out, with how nitpicky the rubric was. Every year it was a pain for Harry to grade, so you suppose it only figures that he’d put off grading them as soon as possible - which is how you ended up here. There are stacks and stacks of essays spread across the kitchen table that have to be graded before Monday, and one glance at the clock on the wall behind you shows that it’s already nearly 11:30 on Saturday night - which means you and Harry have been grading for just about four hours since your last break to eat reheated pizza from the night prior.

“Do you think it’s time to go to bed?” you question, voice soft and raspy, cutting through the comfortable silence that’s been hovering between the two of you since Harry turned off the music an hour ago, murmuring that it was giving him a headache. “It’s almost midnight, professor. And it’s not good to work yourself too hard.”

He exhales softly, flipping a page in the essay he’s working at that’s getting marked up so much with red ink that the paper hardly even looks white anymore. “Y’can go to bed if you’d like,” he tells you, which is exactly what you’d expected him to say but it still makes you sigh dramatically. “What’re you huffin’ at? I’ll do a few more, an’ come to bed in a little bit.”

You shake your head, placing the essay you’d just graded on top of the finished pile and reaching for a fresh one. You click your pen a few times, squinting at the name printed on top just to check if you recognize it (which you don’t) before getting to work grading it. “One more, alright? And then bed, ‘cause otherwise you’re just gonna be cranky tomorrow.”

“M’never cranky, baby.”

“You are when you go to bed at midnight and then wake up at 7 to grade,” you murmur, uncapping your pen to scribble a comment in the margins of Daniel Garcia’s essay and ignoring the dramatic, scandalized gasp that your boyfriend lets out. “Just finish up that one, and I’ll do this, and then we’re going to bed.”

Harry’s silent for a second and you know that you’ve won - you won’t stop until you do, anyway, so it’s best that he gives in now. “When did you start wearing the pants in the relationship, m’dear?” he questions, giving you a cheeky smile, and you roll your eyes.

“Since you put a baby in me,” you reply, drawing a line through an unnecessary sentence in Daniel’s paper, and then you pat your stomach as if to remind him. “But long before that too, I think.”

“In the bedroom, though -”

“Don’t give yourself a boner, Har, it’s almost midnight.”

He laughs at that, bending back over the essay he’s grading with a grin still present on his lips. You watch as he returns to writing a note on the paper and you look back down at Daniel’s, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth to conceal your smile as your eyes scan over the last paragraph of the first page before flipping it to the next one. 

The next five minutes passes in the same vein, Harry occasionally asking for your input on the essay he’s working on, and you do the same. The end of your pen drags along the paper, tracing the Times New Roman font that’s beginning to look entirely too small now that your eyelids are beginning to droop with sleepiness overtaking your bones - the sleepiness that’s only heightened when Harry finally tosses his overly marked essay into the finished pile and leans back in his chair with an almost mocking grin when you meet his eyes.

“M’not sure I’ve ever graded such a horrible essay in my life,” he announces to you, pushing his chair back to stand up, arms stretched over his head. “Got a bloody 26.”

Your eyes glaze over the essay sitting on top of the finished pile, taking in the cover page that’s doused in Harry’s small, scrawled handwriting. Then you glance back down at Daniel’s essay, hardly marked up at all, and shrug. “He’s doing alright. Only taken off 5 points for some grammar issues.”

Harry leans over the table to peek at what you’re doing, and you lean back so he can scan the words on the page. “Might have the highest grade in the class, then.”

“Higher than mine?”

“‘Course not,” and he scoffs, as if the suggestion that any student’s essay could be better than yours was absolutely preposterous. “D’you want me to stay in here with you?’

You furrow your eyebrows as you look up at him, and then you shake your head. “Go to bed, professor. I’ll be done in a few minutes - almost on the last page, see?” And you spread the pages apart to prove it to him.

He nods, and then leans down to press a quiet kiss to your nose before padding down the hall to the bedroom - gives you a departing whisper yell to scream if y’need him - well, maybe don’t, ‘cause we do have neighbors, and then you’re left alone, hunched over Daniel Garcia’s essay. There’s not much work to be done as you read the last paragraph on the second-to-last page - you merely write out a suggestion in the margins before setting your pen down beside you and flipping to the next page.

You take a moment to yawn, stretching your arms high above your head as you squeeze your eyes shut. God, you are tired. From down the hall you can hear the sink turn on and you smile, briefly, thinking of Harry brushing his teeth with the pink princess toothbrush you’d bought him as a joke, and now he refuses to use any other one. Always makes you laugh when you see him using it, ignoring the other clean, adult ones right in the holder beside the sink.

Sooner you finish Daniel’s essay, the sooner you can catch him using it.

It’s motivation enough, and you open your eyes to begin on the last page of the paper you’d been working on for the last ten minutes. Immediately you notice, right in the middle of the final page, is a neon pink sticky note that you hadn’t noticed previously - you peel it off the paper and bring it up to your eyes, squinting to read the words written in dark black pen, a contrast against the bright color.

Mr. Styles -

Thank you for reviewing my essay! I made some of the changes you suggested, so I hope it’s better than it was before.

I hope you’re having a good semester, and congratulations on the pregnancy! 

- Daniel

You smile as you read it - whatever critiques Harry had suggested had clearly worked out, as Daniel’s essay was easily the best you’d graded all day. It’s only when you reach the last few words that you bring it closer to your face, making sure you’re reading it correctly - congratulations on the pregnancy?

“Har?” you call, voice soft but still loud enough to reach him across your apartment. You can hear shuffling in the bathroom and then footsteps on the hardwood, growing in volume until Harry’s standing in the doorway of the hall, princess toothbrush in his mouth and his eyes wide with concern. You give him a smile, to assure him you’re fine, and you can hear his soft sigh in relief. “Daniel left you a note.”

You hold it up for him to inspect, and he closes the distance between you two to bend down, eyes narrowing as he reads Daniel’s loopy writing. “Aw - s’sweet,” he says, voice strained with the toothpaste in (and dripping out of) his mouth, and you can sense he’s confused as to why you called him to read it.

“I didn’t know you told your students about the baby,” you say, mainly to his back as he darts down the hall to the bathroom, and you can hear him spitting into the sink before he walks back. 

“Yeah - I did.” Harry’s eyebrows crease in confusion as he leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and mouth free of all toothpaste and brush. “Was I not s’posed to?”

No - that’s not what you’d meant at all. Truth be told, it made your heart absolutely swell to imagine Harry telling his students about you and the baby, and you’re getting quite embarrassed with how easily you’re crying lately but you can feel tears in the back of your eyes already. You swallow, pushing yourself up from your chair to pad closer to him, and his hands fall to the sides of your protruding tummy once you’re close enough. “No - I’m not mad. The opposite, really - what did you tell them?”

You know, now, that he can sense exactly how you’re feeling about it. His hands smooth over your tummy through your sleepshirt, and you lean in to rest your head to his shoulder. “Just told ‘em that my girlfriend’s havin’ my baby, and that I’m very happy about it. Might’ve told ‘em that a few times, though.”

“How many times do you consider to be a few?” you question, bringing your head back up to look at him, and the sheepish look on his face tells you exactly what you’d expected. “Do you talk your class’s ear off every day about it?”

“Not every day,” he insists, leaning his head back against the doorway, and you raise your eyebrows at him. “Not every day! Really. But m’students ask about it, and y’know I can’t help myself, sometimes.”

You do know exactly what he’s talking about, and your cheeks are beginning to hurt with how hard you’re smiling. His hands slide up your chest and neck until he reaches your cheeks, pulling your face up so you’re staring at him, cheeks squished together. There’s still a smudge of toothpaste in the corner of his mouth and you bring your thumb up to wipe at it before mumbling, voice slightly incomprehensible due to his hands on your face, “That - that makes me really happy, Harry.”

His eyes soften and you’re expecting him to drop his hands back down to your side, but he merely pushes your cheeks further in and leans down to land a kiss to your lips. “Why wouldn’t I talk abou’ you? Most important thing in my life, you are.”

You bring your hand up to swat at his wrists so your face goes back to its normal shape, and he reluctantly complies. “It’s just sweet. And I’m really tired right now, so I might cry if I think about it for too long, but -”

Harry tosses his head back with a laugh at that, and you watch him with unsaid tears shining in your eyes. Sometimes, you’re not quite sure how or why you got so lucky - but as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers to pull you down the hall towards your bedroom, you decide you’ll never stop appreciating it for the rest of your life.

 —

 You’d known from the very beginning of the night that Harry wasn’t fit to go out, and you know you’ll hold that over his head later. A little I told you so to make up for the way your knees are aching, pressed to the cold black tile, and you know he’ll roll his eyes, maybe snip back that you weren’t complaining with m’dick down your throat, baby. But, for now, you merely look up at him with a smug glint in your eyes, and, in response, his grip on your hair tightens.

The second you’d stepped out of your bedroom at the apartment, adding another smooth layer of rouge to your bottom lip, you’d known, just from the look he gave you, sitting on the couch. Tonight was going to be that sort of night, where Harry walked with his hand shoved in his pocket to try and make his half hard boner less obvious through the entirety of dinner, assuring you over and over that he was fine to go out. You’d almost believed him until he’d parked the car in a parking garage right outside of the restaurant and begged you for just a quickie in the backseat before you went in - but you’d refused.

You’d waited for date night for - well, two weeks, but it felt entirely too long. And you hadn’t spent so long getting ready, trying on all of your dresses before finally finding one that made your 30 week belly look flattering, to have him ruin it in the backseat.

You could be quite strong willed when you wanted to, and most times you didn’t. It always shocked Harry, the moments you decided to use it. 

“Can I try that, Har?” Your voice is saccharine sweet as you look up at your boyfriend with a smile, taking note of the way his jaw is set as he pokes at his gnocchi. His eyes are stone cold and if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you would guess that he’s angry - but the way his ankle is locked with yours beneath the table, heel brushing against his ankle, assures you that he’s not. “Looks delicious.”

You’re already reaching over with your fork to Harry’s plate before he can respond, taking a piece of the thick pasta and bringing it back over to your plate. You take your time chewing it, admiring your boyfriend’s features, illuminated in the candlelight - he’s always gorgeous, like a statue carved from stone, but especially so when you know he’s so turned on he can hardly function.

And you suppose you’re to blame for that. It isn’t as though you haven’t been torturing him the entire dinner, lifting your foot up to drag up his calf, pulling his dress pants up, even going so far as to brush it against his thigh, though you’ll blame it on the thick white tablecloth able to disguise every action. Every single reaction he gave you felt like adding gasoline to a fire, and you were loving it.

“That’s really good,” you tell him, resting your fork on your plate and grabbing your slice of margherita pizza. “The sauce is good, too. Thick and creamy - you know.”

Harry shifts in his seat, and you tighten your hold around his ankle, sliding forward in your seat just a tad. He doesn’t respond for a moment, and then he leans over across the table, loose fabric of his pink button up falling dangerously close to his pasta, and says, “You’re being mean.”

You can’t help the cocky grin that tugs at your lips as you lean back in your seat, increasing the distance between you once more. “How am I being mean? Just trying to enjoy dinner with you - once the baby gets here, who knows how many more we’ll have for a while.”

It’s getting more difficult by the minute to disguise your own arousal, but you try to, anyway. It isn’t nearly as fun to tease Harry when he knows you’re just as turned on as he is, so you’ll hide it for as long as you can.

“S’difficult to appreciate our last date night when I’m so fuckin’ turned on - I can’t even eat my gnocchi.” He pouts, as if it’s an absolute disgrace that he can’t enjoy his pasta, and you roll your eyes.  It’s rare you get to see Harry so desperate like this, so needy it’s all he can think about. But he’s reaching over the table to clasp his hand overtop of yours where you’re clutching your fork, bringing the back of your palm up to his mouth to press a kiss to your skin, and you smile down at your pizza. It’s sweet, even if you know he’s only doing it so you’ll agree to leave dinner early to go home, or perhaps run out to the car for a quickie.

“Never said last,” you tell him, pressing your free hand to the front of your stomach. “It better not be the last, professor.”

“Not the last,” Harry agrees, lips still firmly planted to your hand so every word is mouthed to your skin. You watch him with arched eyebrows, trying to anticipate his next move, when he leans over further and says, voice soft and nearly pleading, “Are y’sure you don’t want a quickie? ‘Cause I can read you like a book, honey, an’ I can fuckin’ feel you clenching your thighs, y’know. Can practically smell how wet you are. M’not dumb.”

Fuck.

You exhale a soft shaky breath, and you know he’s got you right where he wants you, if the satisfied smirk on his face tells you anything. He drops your hand and you dig your fingers into the tablecloth, watching as he leans back in the booth.

It’s your move and you’re not sure how to play it, taking the brief moment to run through all of your options. You could go home, spend the rest of the night in the apartment, but you don’t reckon Harry would be able to wait so long. And you’re not too sure your back would appreciate getting fucked in the backseat, so the only other option is -

“Alright,” you murmur, and then your ankle unhooks from around his ankle so you can slide out of the booth. When you’re standing you rest your hand on the underside of your stomach, reaching out a hand for Harry to grab as you tug him from the booth. Immediately his arm wraps around your waist and you lift your head up to reach his ear, voice hardly rising above a whisper, “The bathroom, Har.”

His eyes flutter shut at your words, breathing out a slow groan, and you give him just a second to relish in the subtext of it - the second passes, though, and you nudge him once more. He tightens his arm around you and leads you from the booth, dragging you through the restaurant to a sleek, black staircase, a sign on the wall beside it declaring that the restroom is downstairs. When you’re out of sight from most customers and workers in the dining room, the two of you practically run down the stairs, Harry grabbing your hand to make sure you don’t trip, and you’re nearly breathless when you finally locate the bathroom.

Not a second after Harry pulls you inside, slamming and locking the door shut behind you, your lips are on his. Hands roam up and down your back through your dress and your fingernails dig into his neck, and for a moment, that’s enough - just feeling his touch after feeling deprived, even if you’d been trying to pretend you didn’t need him. But, God, he’s looked so good the entire night, donning a loose pink dress shirt, the first two buttons undone, and black dress pants - it’s not unlike what he would wear to class and maybe that’s why you love it so much.

The moment passes, though, because you know this needs to be fast and merely making out against the cool door won’t do either of you too much good. Harry’s fingers hook in the hem of your dress, beginning to pull the fabric up over your ass but you stop him, fingers wrapping around his wrist and meeting his look of confusion with one of pure seduction.

You slowly adjust your dress again, tugging it back down to the mid-thigh point where it belongs, and Harry watches you - his chest is heaving and his palms are pressed to the door, and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this. So far gone already and you’ve barely touched him - it’s a gorgeous contrast from how it usually is, where you’re the one so needy and desperate for him.

The moan that cracks through the air when you drop to your knees in front of him sends a rush of arousal straight to your core. You’d love to have him pound into you right here, against the black tiled walls of the restroom, but when he’s like this? You need him in your mouth - God, you’re fucking aching for it. And waiting will merely make the inevitable pleasure so much better, later.

As if on instinct, Harry’s hand presses to the back of your head, fingertips gently smoothing your scalp as if to comfort you. “Sure y’don’t want me to fuck you? Know you wan’ it - feel bad makin’ you wait.”

You shake your head, leaning in to gently nuzzle at the bulge, so prominent in his pants. Harry’s hips jerk forward at the slight sensation and you give him a soft glare as he murmurs quiet apologies into the suddenly warm bathroom air. “No,” you tell him, voice hot against his dick even through his trousers. “Need you in my throat, professor.” And the resulting moan spurs you onwards, reaching for the zipper blocking you from what you need.

He’s rambling as you tug the zipper of his pants down, fumbling with the button so you can pull his boxers down over his member. You wait a moment before making any type of contact with his length, glancing up to meet his lust blown eyes with a small smirk gracing your lips. Harry’s digits tangle in your hair as you lean in, ghosting a soft kiss to the base of his cock before wrapping your fist around him. “God - gonna suck me off, hmm? Look so good on your knees, y’know that? Fuck, please don’t tease me -”

Your hand pumps up and down his length, hot and heavy in your palm, the head red and angry and already leaking precum. It’s a show of how deprived your boyfriend is as he hisses near violently when you press an open mouthed kiss to the dripping tip of his cock, hand still jerking up and down the base of him. 

As much as Harry had begged you not to, you’re tempted to tease him - kitten licks to his dick until he’s begging harder than he already is - but you have to remind yourself that you’re not in your apartment, and you don’t have enough time to be going as slowly as you are. So you stick your tongue out, use your hand on his base to guide him so it’s sitting, heavy on your tongue. His breathing has all but stopped, watching with his mouth dropped open as you take him into your mouth, closing your lips around his cock when it’s nearly halfway down your throat.

The feeling of your lips shutting around his member has a wet grunt escaping his throat, and his fingers tighten in your hair to the point where you reckon you can feel strands disconnecting from your scalp - but you find you don’t truly care. It goes straight to your clit, every one of Harry’s reactions, from the way his fingernails dig indents into your head and his head falls back against the bathroom door with a dull thump that reverberates through you. Normally you wouldn’t hesitate to try and alleviate the pressure growing in your clit - maybe pull your dress up and get yourself off - but the thought of how good it’ll feel if you wait keeps your hands from wandering. 

“Oh my god -” you look up at Harry where he’s got his fist, half buried in his mouth, muffling every noise he lets out. His face is coated with a thin sheet of sweat, eyes squeezed shut, looking as though you’d been sucking him off for hours instead of five minutes. “Please, baby - God, feels so good.”

You’ve been giving him blowjobs for over two years and yet, every single time, you need time to adjust to his size - it never fails to make him smirk but he’s too far gone to focus on it now, as you slide his cock down your throat, taking as much of him as you can without gagging. Harry’s fingers in your hair tangle, holding your head to his length though you had no intention of letting up any time soon, anyway - and you’re not sure he’d intended to push you further down on him, nose brushing to his pubic bone, but the way you gag around him has him crying out, entirely too loud even around his fist. 

“Sorry, m’sorry - jus’ couldn’t help it -” he’s murmuring, voice strained as he pulls you off of him, letting you bring your wrist up to wipe at the strands of saliva still connecting his cock to your lips. You take just a second to catch your breath before leaning back in, flattening your tongue to lick a thick stripe up the bottom up his member, swirling around his tip once you’ve reached it. “M’really close - gonna cum so fuckin’ hard -”

You’d known from the telltale twitch of his cock when you wrap your lips around him that he’s close, and, as much as you love sucking his dick, your knees are aching and you’d do anything to run home and continue this romp in the sheets. So you continue pumping him, sloppy jerks of the wrist that have moans tumbling off his lips like a mantra, and then you release your lips from around him with a soft pop and stick your tongue out again, resting his head neatly in the center.

Whatever qualms Harry had been holding on to about keeping silent are almost immediately forgotten as his cock thrusts forward onto your tongue, your hand still thrusting the part of him that isn’t resting in your mouth. His head drops forward with a low, throaty moan and you barely get a moment to prepare before he’s cumming, ribbons of milky cum pooling in the valley of your tongue. You can’t help yourself from whimpering at the sensation that you’ve grown to love so much - it helps that his cum doesn’t taste terrible, though you suppose you don’t have much to compare it to.

Your scalp burns when Harry releases your hair, pressing his entire palm to the back of your head and keeping his cock firm in the center of your tongue, though you wouldn’t dream of pulling away until you’ve milked every last drop. He’s panting, chest heaving with desperate gasps of air, and you can’t tear your gaze from him even if he won’t meet it.

It’s Harry who finally pulls away first, shifting his hips backward until his length slides off of your tongue, eyes drifting shut. You reach for his thigh, pinching the soft skin through his trousers until he hisses, glancing down at you like you’d wanted, and you take the brief connection of eye contact to close your mouth, making a show of swallowing the cum you’d collected at the base of your tongue. 

“God,” he breathes throatily, hand on your head smoothing down until he’s cupping your cheek, and he smiles when you show him your tongue again to prove that you’d swallowed everything. “Gonna fuckin’ wreck you when I get home.”

You take Harry’s hand when he offers it, intertwining your fingers so he can pull you up. Your knees burn and your back is beginning to ache, and you need him so bad that just his words have you feeling like you could cum in your panties. “Is that a promise?”

There’s that cocky grin you’d expected, spreading slowly across his face as he lands an open mouthed kiss to your lips - a show of love, considering his cock was in your mouth mere seconds ago. It’s a promise that whatever bits of dominance you’d had over him while you were on your knees has dissipated, and you’re more than happy to let him take over. “S’most certainly a promise,” Harry assures you, thumb coming up to wipe at your lip where your lipstick has surely smudged, as you reach down to tuck him back into his pants. “Now, let’s hope there’s not a line, right, baby? Wouldn’t want everyone to know what a dirty girl you were, sucking m’cock like that, now would we?”

And it’s all you can do to shake your head, watching as he feels for the doorknob and undoes the lock.

 —

 At the time, buying a book of nearly 10,000 baby names had seemed like the perfect idea. You and Harry had hardly talked about what you were to name your daughter, besides that her last name would, naturally, be Styles, and as you approached 34 weeks pregnant, you suspected it was about time to start considering it. Sure, she wasn’t due for weeks, but, realistically, couldn’t she pop out at any moment? You should at least be prepared. And, in the back of your mind, you’d expected to open the book and immediately find a perfect name you both agreed on, because it had seemed like your tastes aligned fairly well in just about every other aspect of life.

Now, though - you can understand why it may not be too great of an idea. If you hadn’t obsessed over her name before, now you were - there were hundreds of names you liked, and almost every single one Harry shot down. The ones that he liked you despised, and the ones you agreed one simply weren’t perfect.

It was all you thought about. The origin of the name had to be perfect, the spelling, it couldn’t clash with her (admittedly unusual) last name and you both had to agree on it.

“Do you like Madison?”

You can see Harry scrunch his nose from where he’s sitting, cross legged on the floor, glaring at the instructions for the crib you’d gotten the week prior. It’s the last part of the nursery to come together, and, admittedly, the most important - though Harry teased, I think the baby is the most important part, actually, and that is exactly why he’s on crib duty. You, meanwhile, sit in the rocking chair your parents had given you, humming to the music blaring from his phone and squinting angrily down at stupid book. Marie sits, curled on your lap, and you absentmindedly stroke your fingers through her fur as you read.

“Y’asked me about Madison last week,” Harry tells you, resting the manual on the plush, cream rug beneath him to examine the pile of disassembled crib lying in front of him. “I didn’t like it then, an’ I don’t like it now.”

You raise your eyebrows, exhaling softly as you flip through the pages of your book, already well worn from how often you’d been searching through it. “Alright, cranky. Sheesh.”

He chuckles at that, running a hand through his locks that fall around his face. You break your gaze from watching him and turn back to your look, scanning your finger down the list of ‘O’ names. Finding one that you like and that you haven’t already asked Harry about is a task easier said than done, and you can feel yourself getting more and more frustrated by the minute with every name you read.

“Ophelia?” you question, trying the name out on your tongue against the background of This Is The Kinks, currently playing The Contenders loud enough that you can barely hear your own voice - but you hear it enough to know you don’t like the name.

“I like that,” Harry says, picking up a piece of crib off the ground and glancing back at the instructions before resting it back on the floor just as quickly.

“I don’t,” you tell him, grinning at his responding snort. “Olivia?”

“Already asked me about tha’ one - s’a no.”

“Oakley?”

“Absolutely not.”

You sit further up, grabbing a section of the book’s pages and pointedly squeezing your eyes shut - Marie stares at you as though annoyed with your movement. “I’m going to flip to a random page,” you announce, voice rising in volume to be heard above The Kinks, “and we’ll pick a name off of whatever page it is.”

You can’t see him but you know he’s rolling his eyes before saying, “That’s a horrible way t’name our child -” but you’re already flipping through the book at random, ignoring whatever he’s calling above the music.

When you decide that you’ve flipped enough, you rest the book on the ottoman in front of the rocking chair and open your eyes, staring down at the page you’ve turned to. Sarah, Sadie, Sabrina - “We’re in the S section.”

“We can’t have our baby’s name be an alliteration.”

“Fine,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut again, “I’ll flip again -”

“Baby,” Harry calls, and when you don’t react he repeats the pet name until you open your eyes, staring expectantly down at where he’s sitting on the rug. He lets the directions flutter down to the floor before pushing himself to stand, padding across the room until he can grab the baby name book, replacing its spot on the ottoman just in front of you. “We don’t have t’pick a name right now.”

You cross your arms over your chest, hardly able to resist your smile as Harry lifts the book up, flipping past the S section until he’s gazing down at a list of T names and their origins. “Aren’t you supposed to be putting together a crib, professor?”

He merely rolls his eyes, jabbing his finger in the middle of the page. “What about Tiffany?”

The Contenders transitions into All Day And All Of The Night and you bob your head to the change in music, gently kicking Harry’s ankles to try and distract yourself from the stress that’s slowly rising in your chest. “I hate it - and, besides, she might grow up with a complex if she’s named after one of the greatest movies of all time.”

Harry exhales with a small chuckle, finger sliding down the page until it stops again. “Thalia?”

That one makes you pause - it is pretty, and combining it with his last name doesn’t roll off the tongue too terribly. But it isn’t perfect, and you can’t possibly give your baby a name that isn’t perfect. So you shake your head, craning your neck so you can glance at the page with him, dragging your fingers down Marie’s soft back. “Tessa could be pretty, right?”

But he shakes his head, turning a few pages back until you’re staring into the R section. You rest a hand on top of your stomach, as if to ask your daughter what, exactly, her name is, and Harry presses his palm overtop of yours, lacing your fingers together absentmindedly. “I like Riley,” he murmurs, fingernail tapping against the small print of the name and question.

“It’s too similar to Styles,” you disagree, and when he gives you a doubtful look you continue, “The beginnings sound the same - Ri and Sty. Just sounds sort of weird.”

You’re in the middle of reading about the origin for the name Ryan when Harry slowly presses the book shut, and you hardly have time to give him an annoyed glance before he’s telling you, “We’ll look at this tomorrow, alright? We don’t have to find one right now - s’fine.”

“I feel like we’re running out of time,” you confess as he stands up from the ottoman, resting your dumb baby name book on top of the dresser and returning back to the middle of the floor. Marie, meanwhile, hops off your lap, bounding out of the room with her tail high in the air. “I feel like she’s gonna come and we’re not gonna have any sort of name picked out - and we won’t have a crib, by the looks of how this is going.”

“Watch your mouth, lazy butt.” But he can’t help the grin from appearing on his face as he flips through the pages of the small instructional pamphlet with the same degree of dedication you’d put into searching for your daughter’s name. “And y’know she won’t hate us ‘cause we didn’t pick out her name a month and a half before she came.”

You push yourself off of the chair, sending it rocking back and forth with just enough force that it gently hit the walls of the corner it was boxed into, and you maneuver your way through the mess of parts scattered on the floor until you can find a clean spot to sit down in, just beside Harry. He gives you a smile once you’re beside him and leans down to press a kiss to your temple, and you lean backward, resting your weight on one arm and pressing your other hand to the front of your stomach. “She could come next week, you know. Or tomorrow.”

“She won’t,” Harry says, voice sharper than what (you assume) he’d anticipated it to be, because it softens near immediately as he continues, “She won’t, but if she does, we don’t have t’have a name picked out jus’ yet. We’ll find the perfect one, and it’ll fit her, and it’ll be fine.”

His confidence is (unsurprisingly) not at all reassuring to you but you tuck your head against his shoulder anyway, feeling his lips land on your forehead. Your mind is whirring and you can still feel the beginnings of anxiety running its course through your veins, and you know it’ll only get worse until you find the perfect name for your girl - but you feel like you’ve looked at every single one and not a single one is right. Perhaps your superfluous worry about being a terrible mother was the source for it but you don’t want to bring it up to Harry. Not right now. Though he has to be feeling some of the same fear you are, it’s practically a no-brainer that he’ll be the perfect father.

You wish you had the same confidence in yourself, but you’ll work on it later.

“I just want to find the perfect name,” you mumble, muffled against his shoulder and entirely too soft to be heard over the guitar, strumming during the opening of Lola. 

“We will,” he promises, and then holds up his pinky for you to hook yours into. A promise in its simplest form, and it makes you smile. “Maybe it won’t be in the book, though - feel like you’ve read every single name.”

You opt not to respond, mouthing the words to Lola as you pick up the directions, eyes scanning over the words without taking any of them in. As expected, you don’t quite understand what any of the guidelines mean - instead, you turn to the pictures, and when Harry pushes himself up, grabbing a small baggie of screws to get to work, you hand them back to him willingly. It was your meek attempt to help, but - well, as Harry had said, you were bringing the most important part of the nursery to the room, so you were fine to sit back and let him do the crib.

It’s only a second, though, of singing along softly to the song while you watch him begin to assemble the crib before it hits you - in plain sight (or plain sound, you suppose) is the name. You’d spent so long buried inside your dumb baby name book that you’d skipped over this because it’s perfect, rolls off your tongue so beautifully when you mouth it, soft enough that your boyfriend can’t hear it over the blaring of the song you’d taken it from.

“Harry,” you call, growing louder in excitement with every syllable. You wait until his eyes are on you, because you want to see his reaction when he hears it - it’s all you can do to pray it’s a positive one, because you know this is it. “What about Lola?”

He pauses, in the midst of inserting a screw into the small hole it’s destined for, and you can see his mind whirring - testing out the name experimentally, the same way you had. And then he says it, loud enough that you can hear, and it sounds as spectacular coming from him as it had from you.

“I love it,” Harry tells you, though you’d already known just from the gleam in his eyes. The excitement that burns through you is nearly fucking overwhelming as you push yourself up (slower than you’d wanted, but your stomach does tend to do that nowadays) and step over the pile of crib parts carefully. His arm hooks around your waist as soon as you’re close enough and you stumble into his arms, winding your arms around his neck to press yourself as close as you can to him - and feeling his face in your hair, repeating the same three words over and over, is feeling strangely akin to paradise.

 —

 It’s so early in the morning that your bedroom is drowned in thick darkness, like a sheet wrapped around you. Can hardly even be considered morning, you think - as you reach over to tap the screen of your phone, squinting at the way it lights up obnoxiously, you discover that it’s 12:58 AM. 

You’re half - no, completely - tempted to curl back into the comfort of Harry’s arms wrapped around you. One is thrown over your torso, palm pressed to the front of your stomach, and the other is pressed between your side and the mattress, hand curved possessively over your boob. He’s a cuddler and you know this, but you tend to move so much during the night with weak attempts to find a position that doesn’t destroy your back that it’s rare to wake up enveloped in him. But now that you’re awake you can feel Lola, pressing on your bladder to the point where falling back asleep would surely just result in an accident later in the night - so, reluctantly, your fingers curl around Harry’s wrist to lug his arm off of your waist.

He groans in his sleep, rolling onto his back, and you push yourself to sit up so you can spend just a second gazing down at him. It’s dark in the room, still illuminated only by your phone screen, but you can see him just enough. He’s a vision when he’s sleeping - mouth parted slightly, hair damp and spread over the pillow you’d been sharing. Hazy eyes take in every bit of his face that you can, blinking away the sleep that threatens to take you back over.

One hand goes to Harry’s cheek, stroking the soft skin and slight stubble dusting his jaw. You swear you can feel him lean into your touch - but then your phone screen finally dims, flooding the room with darkness again, and you sigh before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, pushing yourself up.

You rest your hand on the bottom of your stomach, waddling across the room to the cracked door of your bathroom. You make sure to leave it cracked, just a tad - Harry’s a light sleeper, and you can’t be positive that the soft click of the door shutting won’t wake him up. He’s been working himself again, preparing for exams that are already beginning to roll around, and you want him to get as much rest as he can get.

You bring your first up to rub at your eyes before flicking on the light switch, chasing out the darkness from the small bathroom. Eyes still blurred with sleep can’t quite take in your reflection, but you try anyway - your hair is knotted and the heels of your hand is still pressed into your eyes, and the oversized tank top you’d been donning to bed for months stretches taut against your boobs and stomach. It’s weird - and slightly scary - to imagine that, entirely too soon and yet not, your daughter will be here. Not sitting in your stomach, protruding it outwards, but lying in your arms. And you and Harry will be parents, finally, after nearly 10 months of waiting.

It’s too much to think about at barely 1 in the morning - so you tear your gaze from your reflection, head past the mirror to the toilet. You’ll ponder how strange it is to imagine your baby finally arriving later, but not now. Not when you’re forced to clench your thighs together to stop yourself from peeing, so -

Later.

When you’ve finished you wash your hands, making sure the tap doesn’t run too loud, but you swear you can hear a soft groan come from your connecting bedroom. You shut the light off once your hands are dried and push the door open softly, trying to ignore the inevitable creaking noise that will reverberate throughout your bedroom. It’s soft but still present, and you cringe slightly before padding back across the hardwood and rug until you reach your bed. You slowly sit down on the mattress before swinging your legs over and settling back beneath the covers, where Harry hadn’t moved too much since you’d left him earlier.

His breathing isn’t as steady as it had been, though - softly, barely above a breath, you murmur, “Harry?”

There’s a beat where he doesn’t respond, and then he grunts softly in lieu of a response.

So he is awake. You tug the duvet further up your body, shifting so you’re on your side and facing him. The room is still dark and you can’t see him open his eyes, but you can feel his hand move up until it’s wrapped around your torso. “Did I wake you up?” you question quietly, feeling his fingers already pressing soft circles into your hip. “Sorry.”

“No,” Harry tells you, voice raspy and dripping with desire to be asleep. It’s how his morning voice is but you’re not quite sure you can even classify this hour as morning. “Was awake - ‘cause I felt you move m’arm.” You nod, even if he can’t see it, and then he asks, “Wha’ time is it?”

“1.” You shift closer to him, as close as you can with your stomach acting as a barrier between you two, nuzzling your head into the pillow. “Had to pee.”

He hums softly, tilting his head so he can press a kiss to your nose. “I think tha’ means you’re 38 weeks, today. An’ that means 2 weeks until baby is here.”

Huh. You hadn’t known that, but Harry had been better at keeping track of that stuff than you were. “Assuming she arrives on time,” you remind him, eyes drooping shut. “Could come tomorrow.”

“She better not,” he mumbles. “M’not prepared to be a dad so soon.”

“You’ll be great no matter when she comes,” and you mean it. God, he’s been such a great dad so far, and you don’t even have a physical daughter yet. He knows your symptoms practically before you do, has read all of your baby books time and time again and he’s been so good working on the nursery - you can’t even imagine him being worried about her coming. “She’s gonna be a lucky girl, having such a great dad.”

There’s silence and for a second you think he might have fallen asleep - but after a moment he murmurs, “You’ll be the best mum, too - an’ the hottest one.”

You can hardly find the energy to roll your eyes at that but you do anyway, smiling as you hear his low chuckle. Harry’s hold around your waist tightens, tugging you just a bit closer and shifting his body so he can curve around you. You lean forward, puckering your lips softly and feeling him land a soft peck against them. Neither of you bothers to move your heads when you pull apart, merely resting them an inch apart from each other so you can feel his breath, hot on your face, as it begins to steady out again.

He’s an easy sleeper - it’s always been a bit more difficult for you, though. You don’t want to move again and wake him up but you can feel the beginnings of pain settling in your back and lower stomach, and your mind is whirring. 38 weeks feels awfully farther along than 37 and the real reality that you and Harry could be parents as soon as fucking tomorrow is terrifying. There’s so much you feel like you haven’t done yet, even if you know you’ve covered all of the necessary bases - she has a name, she has a crib, she has loving parents. You haven't taken any labour classes - were they necessary? Perhaps you’d made a mistake, not going to any. When the day came, would you be unprepared? Would the nurses be able to tell you’d never practiced any breathing exercises?

You haven’t even packed a hospital bag yet, and you’re not sure what’s supposed to go in it. Tomorrow, you’ll watch a YouTube video while Harry is at work, pack the bag and have it ready to go for when it happens. You’ll practice your breathing, too. Maybe even google some of the best stretches to do, to prepare for labour. It never hurts to be prepared.

“Can hear you thinking,” Harry whispers, snapping you out of your thoughts, and you sigh, eyes opening though you can’t see anything in the darkness. Should’ve known from his fingers, still rubbing circles into your skin, that he was still awake - you just hadn’t thought of it. “Go t’bed, baby.”

You nearly open your mouth to worry him with your concerns - you could tell him about the exercises and the breathing and the bag. Part of you wonders if he feels the same concern but masks it better. He’s been so steady about the entire thing from the very beginning, balancing out your nerves with logic, and you know that’s what he would do now. But it’s 1 AM, and he has to work tomorrow, even if all you’ll be doing is stress-packing a bag. Maybe tomorrow you’ll open a conversation about it, see how he’s feeling. So you hold back, exhaling softly as you bring your hand up to press against his cheek, skin soft beneath your touch. “I love you, professor.”

You can feel Harry’s face stretching into a lazy smile in your hand, and he turns his head to press a kiss to the underside of your wrist. “I love you too,” he tells you, melodic and soft. “G’night.”

“Goodnight.”

You take a second to stare at him - even if you can’t see him, knowing he’s beside you is comforting enough that you allow your eyes to shut. The pillow is soft against your head as you sink into the bed, holding the covers to your chest with the hand that isn’t pressed to his face. It isn’t as though you’d gained too much closure from your very short interaction with Harry, and your tired mind is still threatening to race into another dimension, but it’s easy enough to even out your breathing and let the sleep you’re desperately craving to finally overtake you.

It lasts for a blissful two hours - and in your dreams, you’re lying in a hospital bed with Harry by your side. And you’re staring down at your daughter, a small bundle who looks identical to your boyfriend, and then she’s sitting in front of a birthday cake, and then she’s climbing into a school bus, and then Harry’s helping her with her homework -

It’s, truthfully, a rather nice one, watching dream-Lola grow up. It’s only a strange swooping sensation in your stomach that starts you awake, eyes snapping open to stare up at the ceiling. Harry’s arm is still around you though you’ve turned so you’re resting on your back, covers pushed down so they’re resting just on top of your stomach. 

For a moment you reckon you may have actually managed to sleep through the entire night, though judging by the lack of sunlight peeking through the curtains, you haven’t. The insomnia that’s affected you through the entire pregnancy has only been getting worse and God, you’re tired of it. You don’t have a cramp, your back doesn’t hurt and you don’t have to pee.

It’s only when you shift onto your side, reaching for your phone to check what time it is, that you feel it - oh fuck. For a moment you think you’ve peed yourself but no, you just peed two hours ago. But the sheets are dripping wet beneath you, soaking through your sweatpants, and if it’s not pee, then -

“Oh, no.” It’s all you can think, sliding your hand beneath the duvet to feel the liquid that’s gathered on the sheets. Your phone screen, illuminated with a news notification, brightly informs you that it’s 3:28 in the morning, and Harry still snores beside you. “Oh no. No, no, no -”

As if he can sense that you’re seconds away from crying out his name, Harry groans softly beneath you, shifting just enough that you know he’s awake - barely, but you’re not quite all there yet, either. You lift your hand that isn’t coated in liquid to swat at his shoulder, feeling an entirely too familiar lump building in your throat as you do. “Harry - Harry, wake up, wake up -”

He finally jerks awake after the fifth hit to his shoulder, pushing himself to sit up so fast you can hear the familiar thunk of his head hitting the headboard. “What? What -”

You can hardly get the words out but you don’t need to as Harry reaches over to the nightstand, fumbling with the lamp for a minute before turning it on - light floods the room, finally. It’s not immediately obvious, staring down at the comforter beneath you, what’s wrong, and you can see the confusion clouding in his eyes before you throw the covers off of you, exposing the soaked sheets, and that’s when it hits him.

There’s still a second, like the calm before a storm, where all either of you can do is stare at each other, eyes wide and full of horror. She isn’t due for two weeks. And you knew it could happen at any minute but you hadn’t expected it to be this minute - you thought you had more time. But there’s a pile of wetness sitting beneath you, telling you that you’d fucking thought wrong, and that’s when you snap out of it.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry breathes, and then you’re both moving - you gingerly shift so your legs are over the edge of the bed and your muscles are aching, your head is spinning, and your pants are drenched. You need to change. 

But you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than sit there, paralyzed, while Harry moves around the room. He’s digging through your dresser, pulling out clothes at random - next to you lands a pair of baby pink joggers and one of his shirts for you to wear. In your head you try to recall the things you’re supposed to have at the hospital when you give birth, and maybe you should run to the nursery, where her clothes and supplies are, and try to pack a bag quickly - 

“Baby, we need to go t’the hospital.”

His voice sounds like it’s coming from far away - much farther than barely five feet away from you - and you can’t process a single thing he’s saying. You need more time. You want to go back to sleep and do this in two weeks, when she’s supposed to come, because your heart is hammering in your chest. This isn’t right - it can’t be. “Harry - she isn’t supposed to come yet.”

It’s then that you feel a dip in the bed beside you, an arm around your shoulders. Harry’s breathing is heavy and the panic oozes from every word, every breath, as he says, “I know. But - but it’s happening, baby. S’happening now, and we really need to go.”

“I’m really not ready, Harry. We - we need to pack a bag. We need a hospital bag.”

“I’ll ask your mum to bring you stuff at the hospital,” because he always manages to have a logical response even when he’s stressed. And then he’s gently gripping your chin, turning your head so you’re looking at him, vision cloudy through the tears burning the back of your eyes. “It’s gonna be alright - I promise. Jus’ let me help you change.”

Truth be told, you’re more than content to sit here and panic about the entire situation but you let common sense take over, nodding slowly as Harry helps you up. You work with him to change out of your wet sweatpants, sliding on the fresh pair that he’d gotten you, and you merely throw his shirt over your tank top - you can’t be bothered to take it off.

The two of you slowly make your way out of your room, down the hallway to the sitting room, with your arm around Harry’s shoulders and his firm at your waist. You’re not sure if you need the physical support so much as the moral support - hearing his soft, congratulatory murmurs when you merely slide on your shoes is making you feel significantly better. As Harry ducks down to tie his shoes, you lean against the wall and turn to look at your apartment. It’s quiet and clean, and Marie sits perched on top of the couch, clearly having been recently woken up by your hysterics. 

Next time you’re here, you’ll have a baby.

“Are you ready?” Harry questions, standing back up and returning his arm around your waist. You’re thankful he’s managing to keep his composure together because you most certainly can’t. You know him well enough to know just how fucking terrified he is but he’s keeping it more in check - when you’re at the hospital, settled into a bed, you’ll feel better. But for now, the mere task of walking down the hall to the elevator feels daunting.

You give your apartment one last fleeting glance before turning back to the door, hooking your arm back around your boyfriend. “I guess so,” you tell him, which is all the confirmation he needs to haul you out of the apartment.

 —

 You’re slowly brought back to consciousness, nearly 24 hours after your water first broke, by Harry’s soft voice, cooing besides you - even before you open your eyes to see him you’re smiling, and it only widens when you turn your head and glance at him.

As you’d expected, Lola is lying in his arms. Wrapped in a soft, white hospital blanket and eyes wide open, you still feel a soft urge to cry every time you look at the two of them. Harry’s rocking her so gently, her tiny fist wrapped around his pointer finger, and you reckon you could simply sit here and watch them forever - him murmuring so quietly to her that you can’t quite hear it.

And you’re not sure you’d like to. You like the thought of guessing whatever he might be whispering to your daughter when he thinks you’re not listening, but you’re more desperate to hold her again than to continue watching, so you softly clear your throat.

“Oh!” Harry exclaims softly, scooting his chair closer to the edge of your hospital bed. You reach out your arms for your baby and he maneuvers her into your arms, and immediately you lean down to press a soft kiss to her nose. “How’re you feeling, m’love?”

You smile at him, pushing yourself to sit up against your stack of pillows, and he’s quick to adjust them so it’s easier for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of Lola, and if you weren’t so tired you know the mere sight of her would send you into overjoyed tears again. You offer your finger to her, and you reckon your heart could nearly burst as her small fist wraps around the digit. “My vagina feels like it’s burning,” you confess to Harry, grin widening at his soft laugh. “But - God, she’s really beautiful, Har. Looks just like you.”

And it’s true - she has his nose, and his eyes, and the curve of his chin. You trace one of your fingers down her soft cheek, skin feeling like porcelain beneath your touch.

“She does, a bit,” he says, voice staying at its quiet, breathy level, though she’s clearly wide awake. You can sense that, though you’d just taken her from him, he’s already desperate to hold her again - it’s just the glint in his eyes as he stares at the two of you. So you move over on the bed, leaving a sliver of space large enough for him to inhabit, and he gives you a grateful smile before standing up and lying on the bed. It’s tight, and the bed certainly isn’t meant for two people, but you find that, when he wraps his arm around you and presses a soft kiss to the side of your cheek, you don’t quite mind. “I think she has your lips, though.”

Gently tracing your finger along her soft, pink lips, you think he may be right. “She’s perfect,” you repeat, leaning your head into Harry’s shoulder, and his fingers gently comb through your hair. It’s tangled and sweaty - the result of not showering for two days - and his fingers get caught on the knots a few times before resorting to wrapping his arm around your waist instead. “Can you believe we made her?”

He exhales quietly, and you can hear the disbelief present in his voice when he agrees, “Still feels like I’m dreamin’ - like m’gonna wake up, and you’ll still be pregnant.”

“I hope not,” you tell him, voice dropping even quieter as Lola slowly shuts her eyes, lips parting open just the slightest. “I really don’t want to go through that again - not for a few years, at least.”

Harry perks up, just a bit, at that, arm tightening around your waist as the other comes around to help you cradle your daughter. “Y’want to have another baby?”

“In a few years is the keyword,” you remind him. “Stay in the present.”

But no matter what you say, you can’t ignore the visible joy he’d gotten from your words - furthered only as he rests his two fingers on the bottom of your chin, tugging your face in for a soft kiss. “I love you,” he breathes against your mouth, and you can feel heat creeping up your cheeks. “And I love our daughter - s’our perfect little family.” He pauses, then, resting his forehead to yours. “And Marie.”

“And Marie,” you confirm, giggling before turning your attention back to your baby. She’s proper asleep now, breathing soft and steady, fingers loosening around yours. You rest her arm against her chest, pulling the blanket further up her body, and she nuzzles the fabric in her sleep. Your eyes are already beginning to well again, and you’re too bloody exhausted to turn on the waterworks again - so, reluctantly, you hand Lola over to Harry, and he’s more than glad to accept her back into his arms. “M’gonna try and get some rest - when is your mum coming?”

“She said 6,” he replies, attention undivided as he gazes down at the sleeping bundle in his grasp. He cradles her like she could break at any moment - gentle hands holding her head up, fingers softly tracing her blanket. “S’about two hours for you to nap, then.”

You nod, already snuggling into your bed as Harry stands, rocking Lola gently as he makes his way towards her cot. The last thing you hear before drifting off again is his voice, soft and full of love, cooing, “We love you, Lola - g’night, angel -” and you fall asleep with a soft smile on your face.

[antonelaa]

new year’s eve was almost old news. he had gotten a new job, hung out with cassie, and was taking steps to see where the squad would be considering all the things he has found out thus far ( felicia and peter, harry not knowing about peter and spiderman  ). steps. baby steps. at least with peter’s aunt, he didn’t have to worry about any drama. unless .. ned shook his head of any paranoia lingering around aunt may as he walked on over to knock on her door. he was a motormouth sometimes, but he hoped that he hasn’t offended may in the days after new year’s. upon the door opening, the boy had gone off on an unrelated question; par for the course, since ned never wanted to start any conversation on a bad note. 

“aunt may, did you know that gordon ramsey said that they exercised in order to cure their hangover?”  it was from an episode of the said chef’s newest show, one that ned had enjoyed. it also made him miss europe, though for that part he felt guilty. seeing as one of his best friends didn’t have the best of memories there. maybe banned, who knows? comments on the internet saying stuff wasn’t the best source. “i’m not saying i’d do it, but i just wanted to know your opinion. ‘cause you know stuff. anyway, my lola made cake and she wanted you to have some. here you go!” he held the container in his arms and held it out to the older woman.  (  @hotauntmay​  )

[popculturebuffet]

Legend of the Three Caballeros: Labyrinth and Repeat Review (Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Saludos Amigos! We’re back on the Ride of the Three Cablleros as I intend to knock this wonderful series out at a steady cliip, and since I THOUGHT the premire was a two parter, it still ends on a cliffhanger but it’s too early to tell if this is just normal for this series like say Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, where it’s really more one continuous story, or just the end of the pilot. For now with all the exposition out of the way from part 1, we can jump right into the thick of things where we picked off.  PREVIOUSLY ON LEGEND OF THE THREE CABLLEROS: Donald had an enormously shitty birthday, loosing his job, his house and his nightmarish harpy.. er his girlfriend, all in one day. Things went up a bit though when he inhereted a Cabana belonging to his ancestor Clinton Coot and met two new pals: Ladies Man Jose Caricoca and loveable weirdo like myself Pancito Romero A Lot of Other Names Gonzales. The three soon had a yard sale with the various treasures inside the cabana and got an offer for a million dollars for the cabana and all inside from local waiter’s nightmare Baron Von Sheldgoose, whose deal includes a jewel incrusted golden atlas. Upon finding it our boys were attacked by a human goddess who popped out of the book and that’s where we pick up. 

Good. Let’s begin. So Xandra, said goddess, is holding our heroes at arrow point with their attempts to defuse the situation falling flat and their attempt to understandably flee by claming to be the cabs failing pretty much immidatley. We do get some good gags including Jose accidently telling Xandra she smells like feta cheese in greek. But lucky for our boys before Xandra can do a murder on them Donald accidently shuts the book.. and finds out she disappears when he does that. Cue our loveable idiots opening and closing the book for a while, easily one of the best bits of the episode. I will say while the pilot was pretty good comedy wise this episode solidfies how funy the series is. The series is at times a barrage of wonderful jokes and set pieces and it is awesome to behold.  Also a breif thing before we get back to the plot... Xandra is indeed human, or at least looks like one. Normally i’m against this as honestly Ducks just mesh better with Dogfaces, other birds and other anthromorphic animals. It just works better and is more consitent to have a world that’s simply anthro animals and non-anthro animals. But.. it works for me here since so the human characters.. are all gods. While i’d of PREFFERED them to still be non humans, like Ducktales does, it works since she’s not really a human but a god and thus it comes off more as her being something inherently diffrent and otherworldly, but something that’s not so distracting it pulls focus away from the rest of the cast, just otherworldly to our heroes.

So while our boy screw with the goddess who you know, tried to murder them for flimsy reasons without stopping to ask why three strangers look exactly like her friends, we get to know the triplets better. I also get a better bead on what voices Jessica is using. May is using Jessica’s Lynn voice, just a touch higher since May isn’t a preteen, while April, the one in yellow, uses the voice she’d later use for candace. Junes is a BIT like Lucy, but with obviously way more energy and emotion. But it’s clear the three are smart confident and willing to run a scheme, and easily get a thousand bucks out of sheldgoose for the spooky purple ring he saw last episode in a really chortleriffic bit where May serves as an auctioneer while her sisters up the price by bidding thus tricking Sheldgoose into paying. They also get past him having a claim on it as he dosen’t have a receipt or anything else other than a verbal contract with Donald, one that wasn’t even complete since the boys hadn’t brought out the atlas, so they were within their rights to fleece him for the ring.. even if him getting it at all is going to backfire, they had no way of knowing that so it’s whatever.  Back in the house the boys have apparently done the  book thing on Xandra about a hundred times, and Xandra FINALLY grabs the book. At least our boys are bonding. But while threatening them again , she finds out they don’t know what happened.. and recongiing clinton int he painting realizess time has passed, these boys are her boys decendants, and perhaps some explination is in order since she’s lost in a strange world. 

So after unveling a bookmark that allows her to project out of the book without being trapped, Xandra gives us our backstory: long ago, in a distant land I Aku master of darkness unleashed an unspeakable evil... wait sorry wrong narration. Long ago Xandra was guardian of the Atlas, which is explained to be the key to various magical hot spots around the world where various myths come from. Things were fine.. until the evil Lord Felldrake decided to screw it all up, binding Xandra to the book and using it to cause chaos and try and take over the world. All was lost till the Cabs stopped him, freed Xandra best they could, and then journed the world with them till she tragically was shut inside the book and seemingly lost. For whatever reason Clinton never opened the book, we’ll presumibly find out later, and well.. here she is.  Xandra is voiced by, unsuprisingly given this project’s all-star cast, voice acting vetran and modern legend of the buisness Grey DeLisle, also credited as Grey Griffith for a time. And like tress she has a rather massive and awesome resume, which naturally i’ll be going into since usually I go into shows mid way and don’t get to do this: Grey’s notable rolls include Daphne Blake ever since What’s New, Scooby Doo?, Lor from Weekenders, still not on plus and I will not let that fact go till I get a valid reason why not, Crazy Cat Lady and Lizzie Divine, Mandy, Doctor Ghastly, Kimiko Tohomiko, Sam Manson, Frankie Foster, Azula, Riley Daring, Freida Suarez, Black Canary (Brave and the Bold), Fire, Dr. Holiday, Aya, Master Nadia, Magpie, Moon Butterfly, Jackie Lynn Thomas, Lola Loud, Lana Loud, Lily Loud, and Martin Prince following Russi Taylors tragic passing, just to give you an idea of how long, varied and wonderful her career and range is. And to give a certain person paying for this review an idea of some of the shows i’m familiar with. Moving on.  Despite learning of their family legacy of heroics, our heroes are planning to still sell the book given Donald and Jose are poor, and Panchito’s giving in to peer pressure. Seriously Camil is already the MVP of the series, easily the best part of it and it’s a shame he wasn’t brought back for Ducktales, especially since by season 2 frank was aware of legend and Jamie had been on the show before. But Xandra offers them a life of adventure and heroisim.. and when that fails points out theirs treasure and the boys agree to hear her out.  So after showing some off Xandra takes them to a Labyrinth to retreive three mystic amulets, and goads Donald into going in by challenging his Ego after he tries to refuse to go. Panchito is naturally fully on board with a dangerous adventure and Jose is talked into it after Xandra pulls an explination why she can’t go out of her firmly toned ass that theirs a mystic barrier which he buys. So while Xandra conjurs a chair and a coconut drink to relax and wait to see if they die or not, our boys head in.  They find a massive, beautiful labyrnith and a large house containing a minotaur. Sadly i’ts not Ferdinand aka the Minotaur who worked as Wonder Woman’s chef, cooking up damn good vegetarian goodies for her at the Thymsicarian Embasy. All of this is real things that happened and all are things that should be in the next fucking movie. Seriously as much of a mess as Wonder Woman 1984 is, i’d buy a ticket in a heartbeat caution to teh wind if it was announced he was being adapted for it. He’s also very smart, kind and loyal if you were wondering. Get yourself a man like feridnand if your into men. 

Anyways Jose once again tries to speak a languge, and thus we get about a minute of Eric Bauza saying the word moo... sometimes... most times really.. I REALLY, REALLY love my job. But with the bull pissed off and going super sayian god super sayian, there’s only one thing left for our heroes to do...

So they do and we get a great gag where Donald, when deciding wether to split up as to lower the possiblity of him getting hit, has TWO shoulder devils, because inside every man is a battle between good and evil that evil usually wins while dancing and singing a jaunty toon over good’s grave. 

But it naturally backfires and the two devils tell him he’s on his own. So we get a fun chase sequence with the three before Donald finally decides fuck it we can fight back. Noticing Panchito’s talent with a rope, he has him rope and ride the Minotaur which he does, then uses Jose’s hankerchief to lure the minotaur and beat him. It’s a gorgeous, fun action sequence that shows off the series is as cool as it is fricking hilaroius.  So our heroes find the amulets, a blue one for donald, a red for panchito and green for jose, and put em on, proudly telling Xandra. It’s then revealed the Minotaur.. is an old friend of hers and this was just a test to see if they could work together and you know.. not die. They can, and she’s proud and plesantly suprised by how good they are.  So our heroes return home, Xandra storring the atlas on her back, and all three suitably impressed. Their further impressed when they find a hidden lair with more treasure, and three sets of armor, their ancestors old armor which as it did in the teaser at the start of the series, looks REALLY fucking cool and comes from various civlizations. Just.. lovely to look at. Our heroes pose.. and the nieces find them, wonder what’s going on, and mention Sheldgoose at the door, apparnelty not phased to meet a god or that their surrogate uncle has a hlemet.  Sheldgoose has come to offer the money.. and it’s REALLY tempiting. Donald has lost EVERYTHING remember, this money could help win Daisy back, get him a fancy house still in new quackmore.. even a third of a million is still enough to set someone as humble and easy to please as donald for life. But.. it’s here where this episode succeds where the premire fell. By this point we’ve SEEN Donald’s weaknsses: he’s greedy, short sighted and selfish. So it makes it THAT MUCH more impactful when he does the right thing, tearing up the check and refusing to sell out his legacy. Sure this could make his life better.. but it’s not worth his soul, his new friends or the world’s safety. He may not be able to get Daisy back or a new house.. but he’d NEVER be able to repalce his new friends, his legacy, or his wonderful new home.  Sheldgoose naturally throws a fit and vows vengance and what have you... and just as naturally gets dragged away by his ring. Like the boys he’s brought to a mystic secret chamber by a family heirloom.. but unlike the boys we get a wonderful sequence of him being slammed into things while Wayne Knight makes delightful noises.

But Sheldgoose finds thanks to the ring he was drawn to a styigan well leading to a talking staff... Felldrake surivived, if trapped in the staff.. and  he’s Baron’s ancestor, himself a sheldgoose who urges his decsendant to take the staff, accept his destiny and thus Sheldgoose revels in his new power as he and feldrake summon Feldrake’s loyal minon.  

So we end on Donald happy. His day was crappy to start.. but while he lost his house, his shrew and his job.. he’s found a new purpose saving the world, an ew life of adventure.. and forever friends in his two new amigos and goddess mentor. He’s finally happy. OR he is for a a second before Feldrake’s minon emerges from it’s sarcophagus and runs off with donald. TO BE CONTINUED. Not doing the jojo gag this time. 

 Before we go on one last cast member; Kevin Micheal Richardson is Felldrake, and he is unsuprisingly awesome and like Grey has a long and storied career.. you know the drill by now: He’s voiced  the Narrator for Clerks the Animated Series, Robert Hawkins (Static’s Dad), Dark Laser, Numbah 5′s dad who was a VERY poorly aged refrence to Bill Cosby, Mammoth, Trigon, Armagedddroid (Something I never realized holy shit good on him), Captain Gantu, The Joker, Pandabubba, Principal Lewis, Schnitzel, Tombstone, Omega Supreme, Cleavland Junior (They drove a dump truck full of money up to his house he’s not made of stone), Mal Duncan, Doctor Fate, Man Ape, Kilowogg, Sheriff Blubs, William Viceroy , Mr. Gus, Rhombulous, Shredder (TMNT 2012), Rosie Rosevelt, Coach Mitchell (Seriously watch Milo Murphy’s Law, we need a season 3), and Dot’s Zit. As you can tell the guy is VERY good at villians so he was a natural choice. 

Final Thoughts: This was a huge improvment. With the miserable parts of the pilot long gone this episode is a fun, breezy adventure that sets up our heroes, the series tone, and our bad guy some more while giving us tons of great gags. I highly look forward to whatever comes next and cannot wait for the next episode. Until then, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

[babygirlgalitzine]

i can’t get over the way (you love me like you do) (ao3)

it’s finally here! the fake dating au has been birthed! enjoy the first chapter x

Music crackles out from the radio as raindrops race one another down the kitchen windows, creating patterns of connected lines against the glass. There's a faint aroma of spice lingering in the air, and Callum's stomach rumbles as he leans against the kitchen counter top. He's been living in Walford for just shy of six months, and this is the first time his newfound friendship group will see the inside of his house for more than just a few moments. It's a stressful thought, though he's somehow relaxed, thankfully completely in his element cooking food. He's been somewhat excited for this night since it was first brought up in conversation, what seems like months ago now. 

Callum's stood behind the bar, confined to one area, in the corner of the Queen Victoria. He's been working there for months now, ever since he moved to Walford to be closer to his childhood family friends. He found a house, going for cheap for the area, a complete bargain, and without really even thinking, he was soon moving in, despite only knowing a few people in the area. Of course, it was a terrifying prospect initially, but he's been in worse situations throughout his life, so he was quite okay with that. The fear of the initial decision was nothing, in the grand scheme of things. 

Jay slams his pint glass down onto the pint mat he's placed on the bar, the corners of it fraying and bent, curling upwards. "Anyway when are we getting to taste your food then mate?" He asks, and there’s a slight slur to his words. It's been a long day, a long week really, and all three of them are letting their hair down in their local pub - Jay, Lola and Ben. 

The latter winces, the noise of the pint glass brash, close to his ear. 

Callum laughs awkwardly, his hands gripping on tightly to the edge of the bar, his body pulling away from them. His knuckles are white. "I'm barely moved in yet!" He explains. "I spend most of my time working here, so my house is still a mess. When I've got everything in place, you can all come around. We can make a dinner party of it." 

Lola quickly agrees to it, and starts to talk about what she could wear for such an occasion, even though it's only a meal around at a friend's house. 

Ben smirks over his lager, eyes wide and light, but stays silent, watching Callum as he walks off to do his job, taking drinks orders off of people none of them have ever seen before.

There's a tapping knock at the front door, and Callum's heart sinks below his stomach. It's too early for them to come. He looks at the clock, bolted onto the wall in the centre of the kitchen, and notices that it's only seven in the early evening, when he knows he previously arranged for them to arrive around eight. The table isn't even set yet, and that's suddenly a huge cause of anxiety for Callum. He pads over to the door, hoping that when he opens it he isn't bombarded with his friends because as much as he does love spending time with them, he really can't deal with them showing up before he's even remotely prepared. He exhales a shaky breath with closed eyes, before he pushes the handle down, pulling the door open. When he opens his eyes, Ben is smiling back at him, holding up a bottle of red wine in anticipation. 

"I knew you'd be stressing, so I thought I'd come over to help you." He announces, walking through the door and past Callum. "Now, I can't cook - but I can lay a table, and calm you down." 

Callum smiles, breathing a sigh of relief as he closes the door behind Ben. He's grateful for him, the closest of his new friendship group, and the only one who knows about the anxiety that plagues him. "Thank you." Callum says, sincerely. "Everything for the table is in that cupboard over there, I just need to sort the sauce out."

"Smells good, whatever it is." Ben grins, placing the wine bottle down on the table with a dull thud, before walking over to the cupboard. 

Still stirring the sauce, Callum looks back at Ben, watching him carrying four plates in one hand, glass bottles in the other. "It's Mexican barbeque sauce. Thought we could just have something basic."

Ben raises his eyebrows. "Basic for us is smiley faces and chicken dippers." He laughs. "This is proper restaurant material."

Anxiety courses through Callum. "Is it too much?" He asks, desperation in his voice.

"Absolutely not!" Ben shakes his head. "We will eat anything. Plus, Lola's still getting ready, so she's treating this as a big thing. Trust me. It will be perfect."

Callum smiles, a feeling floating around his chest that he just can’t explain. It’s like a mix of anxiousness, happiness and gratefulness all at once, an overwhelming swirl of emotions spreading through him. “You look good, by the way.” Callum points out, looking at Ben as he sets the table, placing knives and forks against the woodwork with a metallic clanging. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a white button up shirt. Callum’s definitely seen it before, it’s a common outfit for Ben to wear if he’s going out, but it’s somewhat calming to see that he dresses up for a meal at a friends house - though knowing Lola, she more than likely didn't let him leave the house until he was dressed nicely.

“Thanks.” Ben grins, and Callum’s almost certain he can see a blush creeping its way onto, and across, Ben’s cheeks. “You too.” He says, looking up at Callum through hooded eyes and fluttering lashes. 

Callum flushes, and looks back at the food, quickly attempting to hide any visible blushing from Ben. Time ticks by, music still remaining on the radio crackling through old, slow songs which add to the relaxation of the evening. Ben opens a bottle of wine, and pours himself and Callum a glass each, both of them waiting in anticipation of Jay and Lola arriving. 

It's not long waiting, wine glasses only a quarter of the way empty, when there's a tap at the door and Callum puts his glass down on the kitchen counter, inwardly cringing at himself for not using a coaster. He stretches out his fingers and he can hear them crack, right before he opens the door and his friends come bounding their way in, Lola pressing a kiss to Callum's cheek, chatting away. "We've got no idea where Ben's got to, he said he would come over to ours but didn't show up." 

And then she sees him, sitting at the table, red wine in hand, left leg crossing over his right loosely. "Oh, you're here already!" She grins. "Glad to see you can get yourself dressed."

"Yes, thank you mother." Ben teases. "I don't need any help to choose what I look good in - I look good in anything." 

Jay rolls his eyes, sitting down at the table. "As modest as ever, I see." 

"You know me Jay, ever the modest one." Ben grins, taking a sip of his wine, allowing himself to relax as they all sit at the dining table. Callum looks at ease too, thankfully. Ben knows that by being there prior to Jay and Lola announcing themselves, he allowed Callum to relax.

They're all sitting around the dining table; Callum with Ben to his right, Lola on the opposite side to him, Jay next to her. It's nice, relaxing. They're on their third bottle of wine, the empty two sitting on the side of the sink. The main course is long gone, plates having been scraped empty, compliments entirely to the chef, which caused Callum to shyly blush, and thank them all. They're all laughing and telling stories, tipsy and happy. Callum's hand is reaching across and resting against the top of Ben's chair, and if he stretches his fingers out just the tiniest amount, they would be threading through his hair. Ben knocks his head back, laughing at a story Jay has just been telling, and Callum chuckles along too, though he was barely following the story, more focusing on Ben's side profile. He quickly jerks his hand away, and if anyone was watching him, they didn't make it obvious. He stands up, towering over the three of them.

"I made some brownies." He explains. "Thought we could have some of those for dessert."

If there's one thing that makes everyone happy, it's chocolate. 

The rest of the evening runs smoothly, all of them finishing a fourth bottle of wine, words slurring and only crumbs of broken up brownies remaining in sight. Lola looks around the house, and admires how it's all open plan, something unique to a house in Walford. There's an exposed brick wall, with a television hooked onto it. The house itself is small, but for just Callum, it seems perfect, and he's really made it homely in the months he's been living there. 

"You've done a great job here though, to say you've been working a full time job since you moved here." She comments.

"I only really finished it all the other day." Callum explains. "But the house was in good condition when I bought it so it wasn't a big job or anything - I just had to get a few bits to turn it into a home."

They're about to leave, Jay helping Lola put her coat on but struggling, probably something to do with the amount of alcohol they've both consumed. "It looks better than our place anyway." Jay jokingly comments, and Ben's eyes nearly pop out of his head in shock, trying desperately not to laugh. 

Lola throws her hand out, slapping it against Jay's chest in horror, and looks over at Ben, who is still sitting at the dinner table. "Are you coming?" She asks.

"No." Ben shakes his head. "I'll help Callum tidy up, it'll be easier if we both do it." 

Lola nods. "I'll see you tomorrow then." She says, yawning, before she looks up at the clock that is hooked onto the wall, noticing that it's now past the midnight hour, somehow. "Or, later on today." 

Callum smiles, and presses a kiss to her cheek, and pulls Jay in for a hug, before he waves them away, watching as they leave his house. Ben's now standing at the sink, letting warm water run over plates, cleaning them. 

"You don't have to do that." Callum says, walking over to him. "You being here early was enough." 

"I want to." Ben smiles up to Callum, handing him a clean, wet plate. "I wash and you dry?" 

Callum huffs out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, but he takes the plate anyway, and holds up a clean tea towel as he dries it. Every so often, their fingertips touch as they pass cutlery between them, but it just feels normal to share something so domesticated between each other, even if the clock is ticking away into the early hours of the morning. 

"Do you fancy a cup of tea?" Callum asks softly when they reach their last object to wash and dry. His eyes feel heavy, but he's not willing to let sleep overtake him, not willing to let Ben walk away and have this moment lost in the abyss of foreverness. 

"Sounds perfect." Ben smiles softly, even though his whole body is screaming out for him to sleep.

Callum flicks the switch on the kettle, and a blue light appears. Ben sits on the sofa, sinking into the material, feeling his aching bones relax with the relief of sitting down somewhere comfortable. Callum follows him moments later, and sits down next to him, handing a mug to Ben. 

"I didn't realise how late it was, sorry." Callum winces, taking a sip of his tea. 

Ben shakes his head, a smile on his face. "It's fine. Neither of us have to be anywhere tomorrow." 

"It's still late." Callum said. "Early? I don't even know, I'm that tired."

Ben chuckles out a laugh, thoughts swirling around in his brain. "Do you want me to go?" He asks, lightness spreading through his voice. 

"No!" Callum grins, but makes an attempt at hiding his smile behind his mug, holding it up to his face. "You can stay here tonight if you want? Kip on the sofa - it'll save you walking home alone."

"Yeah?" Ben asks, suddenly shy, for some stupid reason. "Yeah, I will do." He finishes his tea, and places it down on the coffee table in front of him. 

Callum follows, though there's the tiniest bit of his drink still remaining in the bottom of the mug, swirling around as he puts it down. "I'll get you a blanket." He says, standing up. "Don't want you freezing to death in the middle of the night." His bones ache, and there's a knot that's suddenly appeared in his neck, but he fights through the tiredness and the aching, and grabs the fluffy blanket that usually perches at the edge of his own bed, and carries it back to Ben. 

"Here you go." He announces, expecting to see Ben sitting up on the sofa, anticipating Calllum coming back into view - but he's laying down, his head pushing against a cushion, arm underneath it, sleeping. A faint whistle of a snore escapes Ben's mouth and Callum can't help but smile. He looks so at peace, even though it must be uncomfortable, sleeping in his clothes. Callum places in the blanket around Ben, and grabs the two mugs that they have previously been drinking from, and places them in the skin, ready to be cleaned tomorrow. He doesn't want to risk running the water through the taps and potentially waking Ben up. Callum turns, and attempts to walk back past Ben, straight into his bedroom, but something stops him, as though a magnetic force is pulling him to Ben, and before he can even help himself, he's crouching down over him, and pressing a gentle - but quick - kiss to his hairline, before he manages to drag himself away, finally retiring to his bedroom.

[thesantamonicatimes]

GG give us more of your crackships please

Let’s roll out the list, shall we? 

Eric + Maverick (y’all remember the one time Mav offered to suck Eric’s peen? I do.) 

Vito + AJ (need I say more?) 

Kyla + Slip on shoes (y’all remember that incident) 

Verity + A Personal Chef (she told Lola she can’t cook so...) 

Izzy + Minding her business (cough) 

Lola + Tea (She nosy.) 

Chul + A Photographer + A Blank Calendar (Give the people what they need, chile) 

Blaine + Minding his business + Izzy (I said what I said) 

Lexa + An Amazon Alexa device (lmao) 

Parker + Ratxander (he’s been neglecting him anyways so...) 

Brandon + Sunwoo (Brandon can get Sunwoo to loosen up a lil bit) 

Brandon + Anything designer, really (t b q h) 

Daniel - Minding his business (yes, this is an anti ship, they need to break up, swiftly)

AJ + Astrology (cause lawd...) 

Lola + Emilia (not a crackship but these two so damn awkward round each other like end y’alls misery please) 

Jae-sang + A GG branded punching bag with my glorious face on it (LMAO) 

Kian + A $100 Red Lobster Gift Card (see I ain’t so mean) 

Mimi + Mariah Carey (Mimi-squared, get it?) 

Maverick + The Word Of The Lord (I SAID WHAT I SAID, DEMON CHILE) 

Kellen + Puffs Plus Tissue (ope.) 

Jack + A Family-Version Little Black Book (that way that poor chile ain’t runnin’ into screwin’ the same person again)

Jian + The Great Outdoors (I mean seriously) 

Emilia + Flirting For Dummies (now she ain’t no dummy but...that flirting game, chilEEEEE) 

Sooyun + Maverick (not a crackship but, she loves running, right?) 

Ace + Paints (he’s precious, leave that chile alone) 

Mike + Courage (you know why, you ain’t safe) 

Gracie + Kellen’s horse (to ride off into the sunset without Kellen) 

Lydia + One of them Dragon strap ons (for AJ of course.) 

Ivy + Nessa + Expensive Wine (I said what the fuck I said) 

Minjoon + Food (not a crackship, we all ship it, but y’all just needed to be aware of this) 

[polar-stars]

facts about eizan,marui nakiri and ibusaki family pls

Thanks for asking....It was a bit difficult for me to answer but I tried my best (also sorry, I changed the order....I memorised it differently for some reason ovo;;)

The Eizans:

- The Four Horsemen of Apocalypse + Nene //slaps herself

- (I already feel that this will be a challenge to explain...I’ll try my very best to convey what I want to say but uhm, apology in advance if the following just sounds like a scrambled mess) The Eizan-Family has much of a reputation within the culinary world and, well, let’s just say it could be a more positive one. While adulthood, his marriage to Nene and becoming father did make Etsuya less extreme he’s still not exactly a saint. While he did take a step back from dirty tactics and straight up cheating in his business strategies, he’s still ruthless and, you could possibly even say, brutal in his ways using his intellect and understanding of the market to defeat his opponents fairly. Combined with the stigma the Eizan-name had before he even married Nene, Etsuya is regarded as someone that you should think twice about messing with by most. Meanwhile Nene might not be known for destroying people’s businesses, but she still has this frosty, rigid aura that a lot of people consider to be intimidating. She’s known as excellent, and intellectual, chef and her opinion is hold in high regard by a lot of people. Lastly it’s also evident that her three sons massively respect her and that she’s also capable of making her husband shut up with just a simple displeased “Etsuya”. The Eizan-men are not exactly known for hearing out other people much so the fact that this woman is capable of, for the lack of a better word, “tame” these four with just the use of a scowl at times is very respectable and in its own right fearsome to a bunch of people. As a couple, Etsuya and Nene generally make much of a formal and stiff impression in public. They don’t really emit friendly-social-butterfly-energy in my humble opinion and their standoffish, unreadable, strict expressions makes even some of the best conversationalists gulp when approaching them. Then there’s also their sons. While Kei, being the youngest, is not much on people’s radars at this point and is mainly just commonly regarded as “the youngest”, “the third one” etc. Masashi and Shigeo are personalities that a large part of the cooking Elite is pretty aware of. The two stand high in Totsuki’s social hierarchy and are feared by a large part of the students. ALL IN ALL, this is a long way of me saying that the name “Eizan” does send shivers down a few people’s spines and they are considered as very intimidating by many. (God, time to catch my breath)

- Nene might be regarded as the cold ice queen from outside but in private she kinda is the one that holds the family together. While she does have the last say in this household and while she can most definitely be pretty strict, she does still deeply care about the family the most openly and often makes attempts to get them all to spend time together. While not as extreme as other mothers, she can be pretty rather doting towards her sons in her own way. Nene was raised in a clan with long tradition and history after all and while I don’t think she had the most personal relationship with her parents at all, I still think that a clan like that would teach her that family is everything which is why she values it a lot. Also I think, she actually saw them very, very frequently. It’s a contrast to Etsuya, who I believe was raised by two very distant people who were rarely around and when they were they really beat the idea in his head that money is above everything. (This upbringing is what made it hard to him picturing himself as dad when Nene first pitched the idea to him. He does try his best though)

- Etsuya’s aunt just lives a couple blocks away from where the Eizans live. Therefore the Eizan brothers could get there on their own at a certain age. Etsuya’s aunt often watched the kids, if she wasn’t out travelling which she would do a lot in her old age.

- Sometimes Nene and Etsuya were forced to take their children with them to work when Etsuya’s aunt was out of town once again and they couldn’t find a babysitter. Masashi always went with Nene, while Shigeo went with Etsuya. With Kei, they alternated. Nene’s service staff actually really likes Masashi as he’s very respectful and polite with them since they’re adults. They always shower him with praise when he practices his cooking. Meanwhile Shigeo is commonly regarded as brat by Etsuya’s employees but of course no one would say that out loud. Sometimes Etsuya would order one of his workers to look after Shigeo and entertain him for a bit. This task is feared because Shigeo is hell to babysit. He does what he wants and thanks to his cleverness he often manages to run off, so he can wander around the company and do his own thing. This makes the employee tasked to look after him look pretty bad in the eyes of the Boss.

- Etsuya is the one who spoils everyone. He does really want his family to be treated to the finest things in life and he makes sure of that. Nene is more practical in her spendings and not as quick to buy something for her sons as Etsuya is.

The Nakiris (This will be centered around RyoAli-Family since in my, uhm, ✨universe✨ they’re the ones that mainly go by Nakiri. I hope they are what you meant, anon)

- The apex of Japan’s culinary landscape and widely recognised in every other place of the world as well. The Nakiris are heavily respected and cherished within the industry, as they’ve always been. Their opinion is hold in very high regard. The strive to impress Nakiri Alice, the headmistress of Totsuki, specifically inspires a lot of Avantgarde dishes to be created. There’s no denying that the Nakiris are practically equal to royalty within the culinary world.

- Alice is the heart of the family. While her side of the family had always been more chill and wholesome, she still saw (and was pulled into) the drama that the rest of her family loved to cause. She does not want any of that no more now that she’s the head honcho of the Nakiri clan. Alice really puts effort into keeping the family together even if her pride keeps her from admitting this out loud.

- Alice’s and Ryo’s love to measure each other in cook-offs has gone down to their two twin-children as well, who love to face-off against each other, their Yukihira-cousins and even their parents. The competition between family-members is to both Nakiri-twins a friendly one. Even the extremely battle-heartened Lola feels so.

- The Nakiris are the hosts of an annual summer ball that takes place in their mansion at a set date each and every year. Describing said ball as an important, fancy event would be an understatement. It’s a truly grandiose and massive festive with a lot of elegance to it. Wether you’re invited to it or not can definitely be used as a factor to determine how high you stand in the culinary industry. Alice really has fun planning it each and every year. Ryo helps her out whenever he can while also Leonora gives a lot of suggestions over a video call.

- Ryo, Alice, Lola and Mona as family are honestly pretty wholesome. They don’t have a lot of fights, stick together and while Alice and Ryo are damn busy they still never fail to reserve some of their time for their family.

The Ibusakis

- The Ibusakis are pretty peaceful and, except for Kasumi Ibusaki as time goes on, they don’t get into trouble too easy.

- They live very close to a forest and since the two Ibusakis partly grew up in said forest both of them developed a very strong affinity for nature. Yasu in particular does not desire a life in the big city at all. It’s too loud, too crowded and also too polluted for him there.

- Ryoko is the one that needs breaks from their idyllic, quiet life the most. This leads to her occasionally hosting a few get-togethers. They’re not the most fancy thing out there but since it’s Ryoko doing the planning they still do have style but also a warm, light-hearted atmosphere. And of course, sake. People love to attend these and social butterfly Ryoko never runs out of people to invite. Shun meanwhile is not a very big fan of his house being invaded, but given how much fun his wife has he grits his teeth together and pull through the night. His daughter Kasumi is in strong agreement with him.

- Ryoko and Shun have a bit of a differing opinions on where to vacation as well. Ryoko mainly enjoys city-trips and all of its sightseeing and the exploration of a different culture. Meanwhile Shun just wants mountains. Nothing but mountains. The two were never prone to argue much though and are good at making compromises. So Ryoko and Shun alternate each year of who gets to choose the travel spot. So one summer it’s Barcelona for the Ibusakis and the next one’s its a hiking trip once again.

- One source of drama in the usually so peaceful Ibusaki-Family is Shun’s father. He does not have the best relationship to him as he felt that he was never really there for him. Shun’s dad in his old age does realise though how distant he had been all this time to his son. So he wants to try to be a good grandfather to his grandchildren at least. However there is the fact that Shun has not fully forgiven him yet.

The Maruis

- In comparison to the Ibusakis, the Maruis are more lively. There’s a lot more bickering going on in this household and people also often point out that the Maruis have an insanely quick pace to their conversation.

- Yuki enjoys throwing some parties (or going to some) even more than Ryoko. She’ll host a party in the Marui’s apartment every two months or so. But even more she attends parties of others and since she lives in Tokyo and has quite a large number of contacts she barely ever runs out of them. Sometimes she drags Zenji with her and lets one of her brothers watch the kids or, if it’s on weekend night and the host said there’s other children on the party as well, takes them with her as well.

- Yuki has a pretty good relationship with the rest of the Maruis as all of them adore her sunny, jolly personality while also appreciating how visibly happy she makes Zenji. Zenji also gets along fine with the Yoshinos (even if they can be a little exhausting at times). And this ultimately allows the two Marui-siblings to grow pretty close to both sides of the family.

- Yuki plans most of the family activities. She is not a big fan of spending the weekend merely at home. Here and there, Zenji wants to go somewhere though. And usually it’s just this or that new exhibition in this or that museum. Chieko prefers Zenji’s ideas for the most part, while Takahiro LARGELY prefers Yuki’s. He does not like most museums because you have to be all quiet.

- Ever since Yuki knew she’d get a daughter, she had been excited for the day where her daughter would start engaging into romance. Yuki has always been super excited about the idea of Chieko getting a boyfriend someday. She watched A TON of romance movies with Chieko in preparation basically and once Chieko’s on Totsuki she also keeps asking wether there’s any good-looking boys close. What she would have never expected is Etsuya Eizan’s and Nene Kinokuni’s second son to become Chieko’s major suitor and she does not know in the slightest how she should feel about this. Zenji meanwhile has never been the largest fan of his baby-girl getting a boyfriend to begin with and he knows very well how he feels about Shigeo Eizan: Dangerzone. Most of Chieko’s circle (her own family, but also the Ibusakis and also her friend-group) views the ShigeChi-situation as a Red Riding Hood/Big Bad Wolf kind of thing in one way or the other and a lot of them make it no secret. Once Junpei Miyazato appears on the scene both Yuki and Zenji actually make an effort to practically “market” him to Chieko as they’d both, at this point at least, prefer to see their little baby with him. Little Takahiro though meanwhile sees that there’s no guy that has quite the same effect on Chieko as Shigeo has.

[vampfucker666]

also some misc stuff that happened in my game

ajay loner and lola curious (I changed all of the Singles girls lastnames cause it was annoying the fuck out of me) got along like a house on fire. Literally the first woman, even sim he talked to and they fell in love like so fast. I was just going to have them be friends but when i invited Lola over for the first time she smooched him right away.

his round was really short since it’s just work, work, work with one sim.

The singles girls took a lot longer to play since it’s four goddamn adult sims, AND the game kept crashing while I was playing them so I had to take a lot of breaks lol. But erin wants to be a chef!

I also got lola and ajay engaged!!

they also woohooed and since i have riskywoohoo installed lola got FUCKING PREGNANT. I had to move her into his house before the end of the singles round since I wanted the baby to be born somewhere there was room for it.

misc pictures:

(on a community lot. idk when they started getting along so well but it was really cute)

[doodlingstuff]

Heaven Doesn’t Want Me

What if Mary had escaped alone? What if Nathaniel had grown up in Baltimore but not to become Raven!Neil nor Butcher!Neil?

What if Neil Alex Stephan Chris had met Erik during his time on Germany?

What if there was no "this" between Andrew and Neil until Baltimore?

A slight bamf!Neil, sort of soft Andrew, Renee's POV, lots of angst, hurt, blood, pain, and feelings brought to life after diving into the unsolved asks from @aftgficrec.

Read the whole thing in AO3 or stay here for the first part of the series.

Hope you like it :)

Chapter 1: Year Zero

How can your absence leave no trace? As I let you sink in Baltimore bay.

“Move” The savage pull at his hair jolted Nathaniel awake.  

Mary shoved him out of bed and hurried him to put his shoes on. Since Nathaniel could remember, they slept on their clothes, ready to race out from the house of Baltimore any moment, as it seemed they were doing then.  

Every single muscle in Nathaniel’s body screamed in pain. He had spent the whole day traveling to the biggest and darkest Exy court he had ever seen. He had played a brutal never-ending match against two older kids –Kevin and Riko- and after a violent scolding from his father, they had come back to the house.  

Nathaniel was definitely against waking up in the middle of the night to follow his mother. But he knew better than to protest, so he made his best to keep the fast pace Mary had while tiptoeing through the house.  

At some point, Mary put Nathaniel before her and kept scurrying through dark aisles until they reached the door leading to the Butcher's torture room. Nathaniel flinched away and crashed with his mother’s body. There must be a mistake. Except Mary was turning the knob to open the door.  

“Whatever happens. You never stop running and you never play  Exy again. Do you understand?”  

Of course, Nathaniel didn’t understand. He nodded anyway. Mary approved the nod and pushed  Nathaniel into the room.  

Fear crept from the tips of Nathaniel’s toes to the base of his neck like tiny spiders covering him completely. Of all the rooms in the house, that was the one he hated the most. Why would his mother take him there? Not even Mary punished him in that place. What has he done?  

“Hurry.”  

The windowless room was pitch dark. Nathaniel couldn’t even see the silver reflection from his father’s knives. The goosebumps along his arms only grew more. Nathaniel was afraid of tripping over, but at ten years old, he already knew that room like the back of his hand, just as Mary did. They advanced in total darkness.  

Mother and son were only a few feet away from the exit.  

Nathaniel felt the heat of a body even before he heard the voice.  

“The kid stays.”  

A single light was turned on from the back to let Nathaniel and Mary see the gleam of Patrick  DiMaccio’s smile while he played casually with a big chef knife. 

In a second, Nathaniel was behind Mary. That wasn’t any better though. Lola and Romero Malcolm were at the entrance he had crossed with his mother moments ago. Too many knives. Nathaniel felt her mother shiver beside him as she passed an arm around his tiny body and pointed with a gun at the guys surrounding them.  

“You don’t want to shoot that, Mary. What will the neighbors say?”  

At the sight of his father, Nathaniel was trembling too. Why were all of them there? Why his mother was running now that he was finally allowed by his father to play Exy?  

He didn’t know what was his mistake now. He had played as best as he could against the other kids. He had stayed quiet during the trip. He had obeyed. He hadn’t done anything his father hadn’t allowed or ordered first. The memory of a hot iron on his arm was still too fresh to attempt any defiance against Nathan. 

His arm started prickling for no reason. The burn had healed long ago.  

But fear.  

Fear was spreading desperately through his whole body like a fatal decease while Mary’s grip on the gun was starting to fail. Nathaniel was going to be sick soon. He knew what would happen if his stomach rebelled now, so he tried to breathe deeply enough to make the taste of bile go back down.  

It was useless as Nathan approached them.  

“I’m taking him away. You have no right to-” A fierce slap shut up Mary’s complaints.  

“He is   my   son too, and I will do as I please.”  

Mary spat blood directly to the Butcher’s shirt. “ You  won’t.”  

The next moments were a blur of movement, noise, and terror.  

Gunshots resonated in the small room like cannonballs shot on the open sea. All of the Butcher’s men launched towards them. In a split second, Nathaniel ducked and ran in search of a hiding spot among Nathan’s multiple torture instruments. There wasn’t much place to hide. There was no way to become invisible.  

“Nathaniel, RUN!” His mother’s voice commanded from somewhere inside the tangle of limbs and knives.  

So, they were running away.  

It was easy for Nathaniel to know inside a court which way the players and the ball were going, and beat them all to deflect the shoot before it reached the goal. Making the same in a small room full of grownups fighting with weapons that Nathaniel knew firsthand what could cause him, was an entirely different mission.  

There was no time to think further about it. One of the Malcolm siblings had spotted Nathaniel and was going directly for him. The boy used his small size to his advantage and scurried away, attempting to reach the trap door leading outside. His mother was making her best to keep the way free for him.  

With trembling hands, Nathaniel was picking the lock of the door. Romero was closer. Something hit the man in the head and made him lunge at Mary. The short breathing room was enough to allow Nathaniel to open the door.  

In a blink, Mary was by his side, grabbed his hand, and got out.  

Nathaniel fell on his face as his hand slipped from his mother’s. There was something hot hot hot burning his legs, his back. Someone was pinning his ankles against the floor, and the door to freedom was shut.  

“ABRAM! ABRAM!”  

There was only a door breaking Nathaniel apart from his mother, but he couldn’t reach it.     

Chapter 2: Year One

What are the words that I'm supposed to say? [...] Through the silence of fireflies

A year had passed since Mary escaped from Baltimore.

A year full of pain, and blood, and screams for Nathaniel.

He was only eleven, but his voice was nearly gone and his eyes carried the infinite hollowness of twelve months being punished endlessly for his mother’s rebellion.  

Now, Nathaniel was having the most wicked kind of déjà vu, traveling along with his father to the same dark stadium he had played last time he saw his mother.

A sudden sliver of something resembling joy attempted to surge inside of Nathaniel. Then, he remembered what Mary had told him before everything went sideways.  

Never stop running, never play    Exy    again.  

The second order had been easy to fulfill; Nathaniel had spent most of his time crying in the torture room he seemed to never get out from. It wasn’t like playing Exy at all. Perhaps for his father and Lola, it brought the same happiness Nathaniel had once felt while holding a racquet in his hands, but there had been definitely not Exy at all.        

As for the first order, it had been impossible to deliver. With two bullets in each leg and another couple on his back, Nathaniel couldn’t have run, even if he tried. Also, he had always one of the Butcher’s men on his heels, whereas it was at the house, or following him at school, making sure he stayed put. As if Nathaniel could run with infected wounds piercing his body. It was hard enough to assure the teachers he was fine.

Today, Nathaniel was expected to play a rematch with Kevin and Riko. He still didn’t understand how. He had a full collection of fresh and old wounds covering him from head to toe. The Butcher’s rage hadn’t had a limit in that year, and their men’s savagery made sure nothing healed properly. But Nathan had been clear: play well or die.

Die  would’ve been Nathaniel’s first option if he only didn’t know how slow and painful it would be. It was that or disobeying his mother’s last command. The last thing she told him before   leaving .  

Nathaniel had never felt so alone.

***

The match against Riko and Kevin was even harder than the last. They were bigger, stronger, faster, and they didn’t seem to have been used as punching bags and knife testers for the past months. It was awful.

The old man’s-they called him Master-cane on Nathaniel’s ribs wasn’t of any help either. Each and every time that Nathaniel fell, unable to keep going with his legs burning after so much time without exercise, the so-called Master would smash Nathaniel to the floor only to force him up and repeat the play again.  

Kevin’s face was shadowed by something like understanding, or petty. Riko was delighted with the show. Nathaniel was only begging for it to end. Go back to Baltimore’s torture. Be finished right there. Whatever. He just wanted it to be over.  

He only kept moving by the wonder of what his mother would be doing at that moment. If she was still alive. If she thought of him. If she would ever come back...

“Are you having fun making me look like a fool, Junior?”

Nathan’s venomous hiss brought Nathaniel back from his mind. They weren’t on the court anymore, but everything was still painted raven black. Nathaniel was pinned against a wall. Air escaping his lungs. He wanted so desperately to hung onto his father’s hands to release the pressure on his throat. He knew what would happen. Last time he almost lost a hand. He held on as best as he could.

“Look at me you useless scumbag. Are you having fun with it?”

“No.” The answer was more like the shape of his lips rather than a sound. He was choking. The little voice left was leaving him for good. Nathaniel already felt the blessing of passing out around the corner. However, he needed to stay awake. Losing consciousness only made it worse in the end. Instead, he focused on the exits around. A habit picked after twelve months wishing so hard he was somewhere else.

“I have failed them twice because of you. Tomorrow will be your last chance. Do you remember that man we taught a lesson to the last time we were here?” Nathaniel nodded as best as he could with the strong hand strangling him. “That will be you tomorrow if you don’t play like you mean it, hear me, Junior?”

Nathan didn’t wait for an answer. He only dropped Nathaniel to the floor and left after kicking him hard in the belly.  

Nathaniel had run out of tears a long ago. He let darkness swallow him in that same spot.

***

Maybe it was late at night. Maybe it was dawn. No one had come to fetch Nathaniel for the next scrimmage on the court.  

He had been thinking about his mother.  

She never wanted him there. He still couldn’t understand why. No one spoke to him. But he was certain that his mother would have her reasons to be so afraid that an escape and a battle against the Butcher’s men had been worth it. Nathaniel was certain they had haunted and ended her that same night. Regardless, there was some stubborn hope that she would come back. But she wouldn’t find him while he was in that black palace.

Nathaniel had thought he couldn’t run anymore. Today had been proof he was only out of practice. He was tired of being afraid. He didn’t want to feel the old man’s cane on his ribs for the rest of his life, or the Burcher’s knives on his skin anymore for that matter.  

He was leaving.

The Butcher had taken the few belongings they brought with him. Nathaniel only had what he was wearing, his bruises, and his willingness to be free. Almost like his mother had.  

Despite the agony bolting through his battered body, Nathaniel managed to stand up from the corner where Nathan had threatened him and reached for the exit. Of course, the door was locked. He hoped the pieces of hard string he picked from his lent racquet would be as effective as the hairpins his mother taught him to use.  

After minutes of struggle, they were.

The red lights of the hallway were disconcerting. Nathaniel was dizzy within only a few steps. The promise of a slow death made him advance. The fury of another hit from a cane fueled his steps. The fear of being used as an object when he could’ve been free beside his mother made his tired feet found the ground beneath to make him run until the exit.

The building was a complicated maze Nathaniel hadn’t understood, but he remembered the way he had come with his father. He retraced the path backward until he could reach the final door.  

The door to freedom.  

This time, no DiMaccio was covering it. There was no Lola or Romero on his heels.  

He pushed the door open and ran for his life. 

Chapter 3: Year Two

For all the things I try to hide? What is my fate, am I supposed to pray?

 As if the handcuffs securing Nathaniel’s hands on the back of the seat and his ankles to the front weren’t enough, Nathan had taken along the Malcolm siblings to watch from behind.  

 The Butcher was not repeating last year’s mistakes.  

 Six months had passed since the last time they went to Evermore and the memory was burning fresh for both  Wesninskis. Especially for Nathaniel.  

 It was either a miracle or a tragic disgrace that the boy was still alive and kicking. But there he was.

Never stop running, never play Exy again.    

 Although the pain had only increased as months went by, Nathaniel had tried his very best to outrun the Butcher and his men over and over. Consequences were always fatal, yet never mortal. Nathaniel discovered there was some kind of business going on between his father and the people behind the  Exy   team he wanted Nathaniel to get in.  

 That business going on was Nathan’s only reason for keeping Nathaniel alive, and denying his father the pleasure of an easy undertaking was the only reason keeping Nathaniel sane. Or as sane as anyone could be living under the  conditions   he had endured the past years. His body had become a patchwork of scars, but he was more convinced than ever that he wasn’t going to turn into his father. Not even with that terrible smirk mocking Lola through the rear-view mirror as she entertained herself making tiny cuts in Nathaniel’s hands.  

 By the time they arrived at the stadium, Nathaniel had already memorized the way in and was paying close attention to every single door in and out despite the stung in his arms and hands. He had gotten used to living with pain, so this wasn’t any harder than a normal day in Baltimore.  

 The court was exactly as Nathaniel remembered. There was only a new addition. A boy around Riko’s age with a 3 marked on the cheek, matching the numbers on the other kids’ faces. Nathaniel didn’t bother learning his name but was sure Riko and his uncle would be dying to put a number on him too.  

 That wasn’t going to happen.  

 Without any ceremonies, the match started. It was three against one. It was unfair.  

 It wasn’t going to happen either.  

 As much as Nathaniel's hands still itched for having a racquet and slam a ball across a court, he had more than enough time to know that his mother had some reason behind her words. And he intended to honor them today. The match started and he didn’t move.  

 The old man’s cane hit hard over and over his ribs, his legs, his arms, his face. Nothing he hadn’t endured before. He received hit after hit after hit without moving, without reaching for his racquet. Without a scream.  

 He felt every single attack while holding Kevin’s astonished gaze, Riko’s mocking laughter, and the other kid’s pure fear. Nathaniel didn’t move until his body went limp on the floor and everything turned black.  

 ***  

 The year before, Nathaniel’s mistake had been running without a plan.  

 He had a purpose, he had a goal, but he had no way to accomplish it with only a few scraps of strings to open doors.  

 Nathaniel had been able to escape out of pure luck, but once outside, he didn’t know the surroundings. He didn’t know where to go. It had been only a matter of time for Nathan to find him and drag him back in the car, and then back to Baltimore in between  cursings   and hits that made Nathaniel think it was a good idea to jump out of the moving car in the middle of the highway. It was      painful    .  

 This time, Nathaniel had found enough time in between punishments and the butchering  lessons   he despised, to research the place.  

 He knew the campus of Edgar Allan University like he knew the feel of knives on his skin. So, when he woke up from the beating, he was ready for everything.  

 Nathaniel had been tucked in the same rooms as the boys. They seemed asleep. It was harder than he thought to get on his feet in silence. He crept to the door and took out a couple hairpins from his mother that he had found casually around the house months ago. He wasn’t using racquet strings unless it was necessary.  

 “Where do you think you are going?” Riko was standing behind Nathaniel. Hands clenched in fists ready for a fight.  

 “Far from your ugly face.” Kevin and the other boy flinched at Nathaniel’s bravado.  

 “You  mustn't   talk like that to your king.”  

 “Didn’t know shit was royalty now. I’ll bow next time I go to the loo.”  

 The knock against the wall was harder than Nathaniel expected. It still wasn’t enough to erase his father’s deathly smile from his face. Riko was boiling in anger. Nathaniel waited until the last second to avoid the  fist   coming his way and pushed Riko against the railing of a bed.  

 The other boys were frozen at Nathaniel’s display of disrespect.  

 He wasn’t a good fighter. He was used to be the victim among adults, but he had a rage building from the years since his mother left him and he was convinced of running away this time. Even so that he had a knife hidden on the back of his pants despite how much he hated them.  

 Riko recovered quickly from the impact, but Nathaniel didn’t hesitate to slash whatever he could reach of the older boy, and a breath after he heard a heavy string of cursing directed to him, Nathaniel sped through the hallway on his way out. He dodged people attempting to grab him. He had become fast during his last six months trying to escape. He used the stolen knife more than he would’ve wanted, but it was that or being back to Baltimore in pieces.  

 Once outside the Nest, Nathaniel didn’t reach for the highway. Instead, he kept racing through the Edgar Allan campus. It was gigantic. Filled with students coming and going from classes. They glanced strangely at him as he made his way through hallways and  buildings   he had only half-memorized through battered maps found at school and his father’s study.  

 It could’ve been a good fifteen minutes of running without a stop when Nathaniel finally found a public phone hidden enough from the stream of people. He took the few pennies he could get in those months and dialed the only phone number he knew by heart.  

 “Uncle Stuart? I need help.”  

All comments, thoughts, hearts and shares are very much appreciated :D

[samanthaswishes]

Agents of SHIELD Rewatch Season 2A (ep. 1-10)

Here's my commentary on my rewatch of Agents of SHIELD Season 2 Episodes 1-10. This may not be the best commentary since these are just the thoughts and opinions that come to my mind as I watch the episodes rather than a full-blown analysis, but I'm just having fun with it!

2x01 Shadows

PEGGYYYYYY

I wish Trip's grandfather was in this scene. Would've been so cool.

The Kree and the OG 084

Skye with bangs! *chef's kiss*

We got the introduction of Hunter, Hartley, Idaho, and Mack. And only 2 of them make it out of this episode alive.

I know we couldn't really trust Hunter back then, but his first few lines really did make me like him.

"You're the man in charge, but I'm in charge of you." YES YOU ARE, MAY

I just wanna say I love Skye's stealth outfit this season.

So did Hartley meet Hunter through Bobbi or did Bobbi meet Hunter through Hartley? Because Coulson refers to Hunter as a friend she made undercover.

BUDAPEST

I remember my first time watching this episode and being so shocked that Jemma wasn't really there.

So since Fitz was imagining Jemma, were the other scientists in the lab just ignoring him talking to himself cause none of them seemed to be really fazed by it?

The first episode of season 2 and there's already been 3 bottles of beer drunken.

Trip freaking out about the Koenigs is a mood.

Skye just misses her dad

Again, no one talks about Skye's trauma with Ward. She really did not want to go down there! She's fucking terrified!

When did Raina and Ward have time to have a conversation about Skye's dad? I mean, I know Raina told him about the monsters, but when did she ever tell him "I know Skye's dad. He's alive."

How did we go from goofy, disgruntled side character to season 5 villain with Talbot?

"Hi again" I love Melinda May.

Sometimes the military people in this show are really stupid.

Honeycomb Kill Room™

Idk about y'all, but I'm low-key getting red flags when Fitz referred to himself as the team golden boy. Like, relax, Koenig is literally just doing his job. I'm trying to not think about my dislike towards Fitz in later seasons, but the more I watch earlier seasons, I see more aspects of him that I really don't like.

Absolutely love every moment Shield plays Talbot.

Was it ever established if Hartley and Idaho were in on the whole Real Shield thing?

The way May turns to Skye and says "Let's stick together." I love these Mama May moments.

Was I the only one who low-key shipped Skye and Trip this season? Cause I totally did.

"Talbot out."

Okay, but honestly, Creel wasn't that hidden. I'm pretty sure it's easy to see abs on a wall.

NO HARTLEY DON'T!

"Cut it off" This line foreshadowed many more scenes to come in this series

"Have you seen what they've done with robotics these days?" "Probably an upgrade." We really got the Coulson robo hand foreshadowing 21 episodes prior.

So how long was Creel waiting for the Shield car to just pull up in the middle of the road?

And goodbye Hartley and Idaho :(

2x02 Heavy is the Head

Can we talk about how May wanted to get Hunter out of the car and save him from being captured by soldiers before going after Creel?

I needed more of May on the motorcycle aka Lola's Boyfriend™ (if you know, you know)

"I know. And we just retired the bathrooms."

I love Mack. He always has faith in people even when other people don't 100% believe in them.

I know Coulson is trying to protect Skye, but leaving her in the dark about the alien writing wasn't the best call.

It's canon that Mack likes singing in the shower.

I never noticed halluci-Jemma checking Mack out😂

I wonder if when she was looking at the picture of Izzy and her sister, Skye was thinking about the family she never had.

Oh, there's my answer. Hunter and Hartley met each other through Bobbi.

RAINAAAAA

"I doubt it. The guy's jacked, and he can turn any body part into any material." Oh, Skye, I love you. Also, this line catches me off guard every single time😂

"Beat it. You're pissing him off!" Said to the extra scientists who haven't done or said anything.

"How did we get the nonlethal option?" "Coin flip. Trip called tails." I love these little small lines.

Hunter made the biggest mistake ever, and that mistake was icing May.

"Aw HELL no"

Hunter, you idiot. You just don't go stalking up in public in broad daylight, guns blazing.

We love the callback to the device in 1x07.

"Is Coulson okay?" "Of course." "WhAt Is WrOnG wItH yOu??"

And there's Skye's daddy. Cal seemed so much scarier in 2a, but he just turns into a lovable character in 2b. I love him.

"Can I call you Glenn?" "No. Where's Hunter." "Watching Cake Boss." Idk why but this exchange is hilarious to me.

"Let's get out of here before the iceberg runs out of fuel."

Talbot was so close to the quinjet. I wished he ran into it.

2x03 Make New Friends and Influencing People

This whole brainwashing thing is so creepy. I hate it.

So sad that Kara was actually a really good and loyal Shield agent before Hydra.

Okay, but this whole opening with Jemma is adorable, and I love it.

When I first watched this, I had no doubts in my mind that she wasn't undercover. I mean, Simmons would never be with Hydra.

"I pretended they were all Ward." HA

Thinking about how May telling Skye that her shots weren't puny probably made Skye really happy because as a kid, she was hardly complimented or rewarded for a job well done.

"Don't be sorry. Just wait." She says while holding a massive sniper rifle.

"Experience doesn't make it any easier to cross someone off." Ooh, the Bahrain references. This season, you guys! THIS SEASON!

I still feel bad for Donnie Gil. He was just a kid who was manipulated then brainwashed by Hydra and has a power that was taken advantage of.

Coulson once again in Full Dad Mode™

See, I understand Jemma and why she left. She wanted to help Fitz and truly did care about him, he was her best friend after all, but she ended up not helping him and making him worse, so she left. She also needed time to work on herself and come to terms with what had happened. She was at the bottom of the ocean too. Not just Fitz. I understand that Fitz does need help and support, but so does Jemma. It's not fair that people say they hate Jemma for leaving him because they are basically saying it was her job to make sure he was okay.

"I wasn't loyal to Hydra. I was loyal to Garrett." THAT'S THE SAME FUCKING THING.

"My family tore me down." Yeah, so did every foster family Skye had ever had, and she turned out to be a ridiculously nice person. She didn't even have anyone to build her back up, but she still turned out good. God, I hate Ward so much.

I also fucking hate the people that said Skye should've been more sympathetic and should've comforted him. HE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED AND MANIPULATED HER AND EVEN THREATENED TO DO EVEN WORSE. NOT TO MENTION ALL THE PEOPLE HE KILLED OF HIS OWN FREE WILL. It was not her job to change him. She deserved so much better than be turned into Ward's object in the eyes of these "fans".

I also noticed that Ward sympathizers/SkyeWard shippers still refer to her as Skye even after she changed her name to Daisy, literally ignoring all the character growth she had done to reach that name and why giving up the name Skye and becoming Daisy was so important. (I'm only calling her Skye rn since that's what she is called in s2)

Love how Hunter is trying to psych Skye out of jumping out of the plane, but her heartbeat remains steady.

Also, I have mixed feelings about the whole Ward/Fitz cell scene. I obviously don't agree with Ward in one slightest bit, but Fitz was acting impulsively. Granted, he did get information out of Ward.

"WhAt ThE hElL? I jUsT tOoK OuT tHe BoOmErS!!"

I just wanna sing "Let it Go" this entire episode.

Skye's heartbeat was steady when she killed Donnie, but I really wished we could've seen the aftermath of it, and how it affected Skye taking her first life. They do briefly, but it turns into something about Simmons being undercover and not Skye's own psyche.

"We're even, right?" "We are." I love Trip's face in the background. Wish he never died so he could've gotten even.

"Reminds me of before." Aw Skyeeeee

Again, we don't talk about Skye's trauma with Ward. Her heartbeat was steady when killing someone and jumping out of a plane, but the second Ward pulls the 'your dad is alive' card, he gets under her skin and freaks her out.

2x04 Face My Enemy

Let's go! I frickin love this episode!

"Five Finger Discount"

MAY IN THAT DRESS!

I absolutely love how quickly May changes her face from smiling to absolutely hating everything. She just does not want to be there😂

Also, I love how May laughing is its own whole scene and joke.

As a former competitive dancer, I want to take the dance elective at Shield Academy.

This episode is one of the few where the team has major sibling vibes.

This undercover May is still so jarring, but I love it.

"Maybe Talbot's still pissed cause we kidnapped him that one time."

"YO!" *PUNCH*

Coulson was so ready to show off his skills in front of May.

May's remark when Talbot says "I've been thinking." She knows what's up.

"You liked it." "No, I didn't." "A little bit?" "A little bit."

Psycho Living in Our Basement™

Love that they brought back the nano mask from Winter Soldier. Absolutely love Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Black Widow, but Agents of Shield did it first.

As much as I dislike Fitz, I really relate to him here. I have really bad social anxiety and talking to people is so, so, so difficult for me. I either have nothing to add to the conversation, or I want to say something, but I can never get the words to form to get it out. Even online, I'm constantly rereading everything I want to say.

Bakshi really thinks he has the upper hand on Melinda May? Bitch, please.

Love how Coulson automatically knows that she isn't May. He knows his wife best friend.

Why did I get excited for Skye and Mack literally just standing next to each other? I know they don't even get close until literally the end of the season, but I just love my big brother Mack and little sister Daisy dynamic.

All I can think about when I see the elevator opening is the blooper where Clark and Ming are kissing.

WHO IS THAT GIRL I SEE STARING STRAIGHT BACK AT ME~

^I love Mulan way too much😅

YESSSS MAYYYYY

Watching the Live With Lil' of this episode with the stunt double from this episode makes me appreciate the May vs May fight even more than before (and I always LOVED that fight scene so much. It's probably one of my top favorite fights.)

The move May does off the coffee table is very similar to a ballet move that I can't remember the name of, but the dancer in me really likes that.

"wE gOtTa Go" Idk why but the way Coulson runs in is so funny to me.

Ugh, okay, this moment between Fitz, Mack, and Hunter is very sweet, but I hate the way Fitz presents Simmons to them. He gives them an image of her that they see in a bad light. They don't even have the full story and Jemma's not there to defend herself.

"Some people are better in small doses." YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN! That's probably why I like season 7 so much since Fitz is only in the last 3 episodes.

Love how May's plan to protect Coulson is to send him to a cabin. And what does he do when Skye needs protecting? Sends her to a cabin.

2x05 A Hen in the Wolf House

BOBBI TIME

This wedding opening is so funnily random (is funnily a word? who cares, it is now.)

UGH just tell Skye already. She deserves to actually know and not be spied on.

Again, Cal was so much scarier in 2a

And now the dude's dead.

"Pretty awesome, right?" What the hell is wrong with this guy?

"I wAs A fAt BaBy"

Fish Tacos~

THERE SHE IS! We love you, Bobbi.

I love Bobbi so much. This is the only thing I will talk about for this episode haha.

I love how protective the whole team is of Skye.

HAIR FLIP

Ooh, Cal's not gonna like that. Skye's got another dadddd.

May's hand on Jemma's shoulder when she sees Fitz again

I was too invested in this episode to commentate haha😅

I love May's face in the background when Bobbi and Hunter were arguing.

"bObBi?!?!"

Also, did Trip really not know Hunter and Bobbi were married? He seemed to know Bobbi pretty well in the quinjet.

"wHy ThE hElL wOuLd YoU dO tHaT?"

2x06 A Fractured House

Why did they have to start with a scene of Ward working out??😑

"We're not responsible for this, are we?" You'd think they'd all be aware if they had a mission in killing government officials. But this is so funny how they're all like "WaS iT uS?"

"Guess being a douchebag runs in the family."

WHO CARES ABOUT THE WELL ANYMORE WARD. BASED ON WHAT YOU'VE DONE, YOU DON'T GET TO USE THE WELL ANYMORE

I don't like particularly like Jemma this season because of how she acts when Skye gets her powers and her low-key xenophobia, but I truly feel bad for her in terms of Fitz. She's not allowed to express her feelings. She's treated like she owes Fitz something. Yes, he saved her life, and she really did want to help him, but she only made him worse, so she did what she felt was best for both her and Fitz.

"It's funnier now."

I think both Ward and Christian have some truth to their sides. I do believe Christian forced him to throw Thomas down the well, but I also believe that Ward had a dark side as a kid and still chose to make these decisions.

Am I supposed to feel bad for Ward? Cause I don't.

One thing I miss after Bobbi and Hunter left is the Bobbi and May team up fights.

"Don't die out there."

I love that Jemma stood in front of Skye, protecting her from Ward. Why she couldn't do that in season 5 is beyond me. Maybe because she was personally affected by him, but as soon as Fitz did something bad to her best friend, she chooses the abuser over the victim. Ugh, not looking forward to season 5.

They gave him an inch, Coulson.

2x07 The Writing on the Wall

Is there not security that checks you for weapons at a bus station? I'd feel like they'd treat it almost like an airport. (As you can see, I've never been to a bus station) How the hell did Ward get in with all those bombs?

Love how easy they were able to get a dead body😂

Bobbi, aren't you supposed to be one of the best spies? How come you've been on the same page the entire time? Ward's really good too. Why didn't you turn the page? Even when I'm pretending to read something, I'm scrolling down or turning pages.

I need more of Hunter dressed as a cowboy.

Project TAHITI is scarier now

Ward going back to Hydra proves that he is not a good person. I get he was doing that to give Bakchi to Coulson, but still.

THE TRANSITION FROM THE KILLER TO COULSON!!!

May definitely not only yelled at Coulson for going into the memory machine but also for putting things onto Skye while she was in charge of him.

*lets Fitz play the video game* "It's good for you."

"YoU wErE dReSsEd LiKe A cOwBoY!"

DID HE JUST LOCK THAT GUYS FAMILY IN A CLOSET?

Okay but that guy was smart to cut the rope on the nail. I wouldn't have thought of that.

HE STILL GOT HIS SPY INSTINCTS

It's so hard to see Mack during this season. There's obviously this rift between him and Skye because of the alien DNA. Love that they became partners in season 3 because next to MayDaisy, their relationship is my favorite.

2x08 The Things We Bury

JIAYING!

"What are we gonna do, storm Oahu?"

Why does the Hawaii mission seem so chaotic?

"You ever want kids?" *slowly takes the object out of pocket*

Jemma being the biggest Peggy Carter fangirl is the cutest thing ever.

PEGGYYYY

Still kinda crazy how (I believe) Peggy Carter and Jiaying have canonically met. Even crazier when Jiaying's daughter (Daisy) ends up dating Peggy's ex (Sousa).

I couldn't care less about the whole Ward and Christian side plot in this episode

I love the whole progression of Whitehall's cell scene

ALL THOSE PEOPLE ARE FROM THE HUNAN VILLAGE

So it is revealed that Bobbi fears judgment, right? She does regret giving up the safe house where Kara was. That was established, right?

Okay, but Christian is right. Ward believes himself to be a hero, but really he is a terrible villain who couldn't care less about human life.

"Man With a Plan" Was Trip referencing the song from CA:TFA?

Um, yes, Cal, Phil is in fact the closest thing Skye has to a father, so I think it's best you don't hurt him.

Anyone in this show who says "the end justifies the means" is always in the wrong.

I was so scared Trip was going to die this episode the first time I watched this. I was relieved when he lived but then 2x10 had to come in and take it all away.

I've binged this show so many times, and I always forget about the whole vivisection of Jiaying scene. I like literally suppress that scene.

YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND WARD. YOU KNOW NOTHING OF SACRIFICE!

I don't know why but the cut from Bobbi and Hunter to them making out in front of the car is so funny to me.

This scene always makes me giddy. Like... THAT"S SKYE'S MOM!

2x09 Ye Who Enter Here...

Okay, but this dream sequence! Not only do we get a little insight into what might have happened in the Hunan Province, but we also get the confirmation that mom and dad in Skye's mind have sort of been filled by May and Coulson.

Also ANGEL EYES

"Of course, I'm her SO"

This is one of the only times Simmons is allowed to share her side of the story without any biases. She also refers to him as her best friend. Why isn't she allowed to want him to be a best friend? She doesn't owe him her feelings. It's not like she doesn't care. Ugh the whole Fitzsimmons thing this season is so frustrating.

"You're a big brother, but you're not my big brother." Um, in the happy domestic timeline au I have in my head, Mack is everyone's big brother. Except obviously Yoyo's since the two of them are soulmates.

"CaLl An AmBuLaNcE, tHiS gUy JuSt PaSsEd OuT!"

THIS EPISODE IS SKYE'S FIRST HAND-TO-HAND FIGHT!

"Whot the hell is that?" "May's evil twin."

"Ooh hats!"

This is why I love Coulson! He really does care for human life.

I'm like on the bridge on whether or not I actually want to be in a car with May. I feel like she's a good driver, but in this episode, she's so aggressive.

"YoU kNoW sHe StIlL hAs My FaCe?"

"Where's your friend Diego go?" All I could think of is GO DIEGO GO!

Mack low-key being afraid of the ghost story is a mood and totally sets up his hatred for robots and basically everything he's about to experience in the coming years.

MAMA MAYYY

2x10 What We Become

Yayyy, this is my fav season 2 episode. Except for, you know, Trip dying.

This is another episode I'm too invested in, so I might not say a lot😅

So why did Cal decide to tell Skye that Jiaying was dead?

That whole "Bicycle Built For Two" song was already creepy because of Cal, but TikTok made it even more creepy.

I just wanna punch Ward.

YESS SKYE YOU BEAT THOSE HYDRA AGENTS

Ooh, Coulson, Cal's not gonna like that.

DAISY! HE SAID IT!

Skye crying over Coulson gets me every time. It's not your fault Skye!

DANG IT TRIP WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GO BACK DOWN!

QUAKE THEME QUAKE THEME QUAKE THEME QUAKE THEME

The Quake Theme is literally my favorite score from this series.

How does Skye look so great after going through terrigenesis? Like, my god I want whatever the terrigen has.

WHY DO YOU HAVE TO SHOW TRIP FALLING APART EVERY TIME UGH!!!!!!!

And Gordon. No matter how many ties I see him, he creeps me out.

[ayankun]

yalright let’s do this

AGENTS OF SHIELD SEASON ONE REWATCH COMPLETE BREAKDOWN MEGAPOST

hella spoilers for the entire canon up through season 5, but not 6 because I only saw it the once and am having a hard time remembering ANYthing about it.

I cannot determine specifically what it was about this season that caused to be branded “literal garbage” in my mind-hole for seven years.

Best guesses:

there’s some cheesy stuff that probably didn’t sit well with me at the time, and, at the time, there was no way of knowing that that kind of stuff was going to be ultimately eradicated

there’s some good stuff, like character stuff and plot stuff, but it didn’t successfully implant positive emotional responses in my brain-hole, leading me to be frustrated/offended at its own self-importance

there’s some stuff that just Doesn’t Work.  I won’t call anybody out, but there are some main side characters whose casting, in my opinion, leaves much to be desired.  when it comes to acting ability, I feel that it’s important to have the ranges of your entire cast match each other.  if you’re gonna hire B-listers, at least make sure they’re ALL B-listers.  if you’re gonna splurge and get some S-tier talent, pleeeeease don’t embarrass the B-listers by thinking you’re doing them a favor by including them on your project.  Understood, this opinion is highly subjective and I can’t expect everyone in front or behind the screen to buy into it, but it’s definitely a pet peeve of mine that causes strong reactions in me*

some of the plots are tired and/or straight up boring.  I got through them easily this time through because I was able to focus on the things I like, which is largely character interactions and re-learning the backstory for stuff that I know will continue to be important later on.  imagine listening to your grandpa’s stories about his life, but instead of telling you the cool stories about going to the moon or whatever, he’s telling you in great detail about the time he got his shoelaces stuck on like, a rusty nail sticking out of a fence.  It’s not a great story but it does explain why his mom only bought him velcro shoes after that and one time when they were trying on shoes in the store a couple of years later, some other kid started making fun of him for having velcro shoes and long story short your grandpa’s relationship with that kid is what got him interested in astrophysics and also he married that kid twenty-five years later -- but right now the story is specifically about spending forty minutes trying not to get tetanus.

Now that I’m older and wiser, what really surprised me throughout, though, was that not only was I not having any type of reaction that validated my “literal garbage” classification, I was noticing that there was A Lot of stuff that ticked a lot of boxes.

I’m talking technical stuff, the textbook basic filmmaking stuff, the stuff that I subjectively find objectively “Good” because it means that creative decisions were made with intent and were also executed proficiently enough to make that intent clear.

I’m talking SYMMETRICAL NARRATIVE which has to be one of my all-time favorite techniques, one that I personally use a lot, and I’m very biased in responding favorably when I see it, so I think ultimately this is a huge reason why this season cannot be classified as garbage this time around.  Because it shows that they cared!  It shows that they had A Plan!  It’s an emotionally satisfying technique that can be used to great effect when tipping the audience off to how far we’ve come from where we started.  It creates this nice tidy structural loop which I find very appealing.

Just real quick, you see this in individual episodes or even scenes, too.  Here’s a classic A+ example from episode 2:

Simmons has given Skye a bottle of water as a gag because that’s what happens on planes, and that bit is a set up to this bit, where Coulson is talking about how he rebuilt the Bus from the “studs up” and it demands to be treated with kid gloves; ergo:

Only to have the thing completely wrecked over the course of the episode.  In the denouement, “just starting to warm up to this place,” Coulson says ruefully, righting a broken glass as if that will put the plane back together; Skye immediately tosses a coaster down and moves the glass on top of it.

As a callback, it juxtaposes the starting-state and ending-state in your mind and highlights the contrast between the two.  And it’s also a nice character-building beat where you, the audience, get to observe Skye’s character in that she remembers a trivial detail that happened to be important to Coulson.  You also get to see Coulson observing the same, and you understand a little bit more about both of them.  *chef’s kiss*

So this is a pretty powerful and common technique, and I guess you could say that any well-resolved narrative is by definition going to recall you to the specifics of how it started.  Like ep 1 we start with Mike and Ace, their call and response “what are we/we’re a team,” and an understanding of Mike’s desire to be his kid’s guardian and hero and his desperate search for the tools that will allow him to become that.  In the finale, we see the pay off where Ace (via Skye) reminds Mike of this motivation, and Mike is finally in the position to protect his kid by taking out the Big Bad.

But I don’t want to go through the list to demonstrate that everyone’s character arcs likewise left them in a thematically resolved position relative to where they started.  Obviously this is an expectation of all (well structured) narratives. 

(And I don’t really mean to talk about callbacks themselves, such as Fitz’s obsession with monkeys or May’s repeated demand of “don’t call me that.”)

Stuff that only comes up at the beginning and the end.  Here’s the kind of symmetry that I mean:

Skye’s use of GPS encryption and the location of the diner where she first meets Mike.  Both topics come up in ep 1, and are revisited in ep 20 when she’s stalling for time against Ward and brings him to the diner by telling him that it’s the GPS coordinates necessary for decrypting the drive.  It says, last time you were here, Skye, you were living out of a van and fangirling over people with superpowers; now you’re an official agent of SHIELD (fun while it lasted, anyway) and you’re currently doublecrossing your own doublecrosser who was directly responsible for transforming you into the competent spy you are today.

Same thing: the only time we see Lola fly is at the end of ep 1, when Coulson and Skye are heading back to the Bus, and in ep 20 when Coulson rescues Skye from off the Bus.

Ep 2: 0-8-4.  We’re introduced to the very first object with the titular designation, and Simmons idly wonders “imagine what it would do to a person.”  Ep 22, it’s used to evaporate Garrett.  Same ep, we also meet the little, what even is it, that dendrotoxin EMP (??? I don’t recall whether the gadget is named) that Ward uses, and Coulson uses it in ep 17 to incapacitate Garrett.

Similarly, all the cool alien gadgets we spent the first few episodes gathering and locking up, including that first 0-8-4, are all broken out into the wrong hands in ep 18.

Also in ep 2 we are introduced to the idea of being thrown out of the airplane and Skye & co specifically prevent Ward from being sucked out.  We’re introduced to the concept of Coulson’s cellist!  Fury also makes a cameo (”talkin to me about authority”) ! 

It’s a little later on, but ep 6 has Simmons jumping out the plane, and Ward proving his Good Teammate status by jumping out after her (while Fitz is struggling on his way to do the same).  Ep 21, Ward boots FitzSimmons out the plane, and in ep 22 Fitz finally has the chance to properly save Simmons himself.

Ep 19 Coulson has a chance to save his cellist (again)

Ep 22, Fury comes back all Deus ex Machina and relinquishes authority of SHIELD directly to Coulson.

There’s also some dialogue recycled on purpose to make a point, like Fitz-Simmons introductory scene is recreated almost verbatim in ep 21:

Ep 2, talking to Skye about his mission vs ep 18 talking to Raina about his mission

(gotta admit, the man took this role seriously.  check out that cheekbone game he achieved in such a short time)

And again, Ep 1 Ward vs Ep 18 Ward.  They even framed it the same!!

All this to say, Season 1 is Structurally Sound and it has my blessing.

Now let’s move on to the list of things I liked that surprised me:

It’s pretty well polished, visually.  Joss Whedon’s veteran control of the director’s chair is readily apparent in the pilot, setting the visual tone for the series.  There are some made-for-tv shots over the course of the season, sure, and the least impressive compositions tend to involve CGI backdrops, but they do make the most of their interior sets and work hard to dress up various LA locations to, er, inspire the idea of the international scope of the show.  In my last update, I talked about ep 8 The Well in the context of Quality Directing, so it definitely goes above and beyond the basic shot-reverse shot when it wants to.

Ward.  Just for the record, I think Brett Dalton is great at his job and really brought exactly what they wanted to this character.  Eps 1 and 2 are a little shaky and stiff, but everyone’s performances are, as they let these characters coalesce around them.  I remember not liking Ward when I was watching this live, and honestly I think this was intentional.  He’s that character that you expect that you’re expected to like, you know, the traditional cocky savior type that lots of those fancy heroes are.  But because he’s so tropey in his characterization, you’re just ... over it?  And then when they flip the script and you’re supposed to hate him -- WOW.  It’s like two Christmases at once.  They took something you were already doing and rewarded you for it.

I’m not unaware of the “redeem grant ward” phenomenon.  I’m aware that the character had fans who were honestly drawn to and appreciative of the character before that persona was revealed to be a lie.

And honestly, it’s not that I like OR dislike Ward at all.  As a person.  It’s annoying that he’s a cocky bad-boy.  But it’s sweet when he plays nice with Simmons.  It’s embarrassing that he and May have “a thing.”  But it’s cathartic when he opens up to Skye about his past.  And Then, the sequence where we know he’s Hydra but Skye doesn’t.  And Then, the sequence where Skye knows he’s Hydra but he doesn’t.  And Then, his weird yucky confusion where he still wants to pursue something with Skye or doesn’t want to put down puppy-dog-eyed Fitz.

As a character, Ward is a great character.  His set up is so bland that the twist does appear to come out of nowhere, but on a rewatch all the groundwork is there.  His characterization as a baddie is enthralling.  I’m forecasting into season 2 a bit, but you want to follow his nefarious exploits just as much as you want to see his ex-friends smash his face in.  Brett Dalton played it right, A+ good job.  It makes Framework!Ward just that much more of a beautiful thing, to get to see what it would have been like if the Season 1 persona had actually been the man.

Also as covered in the last update, I was really very pleased to see how much character work was being done in this season.  Because I only watch and rewatch starting from the second season, there are important plot points that I’d been grudgingly attributing to this season about which I’d forgotten the specifics, such as, what’s the deal with Gravitonium, howcome we hate Ward so much, where did they get that memory-torture-machine, why are you acting like I recognize Titus Welliver’s character?  What surprised me was how much of a focus there is on character development as well.  A lot of good origin story stuff, like how green FitzSimmons is and how soft and good-hearted Skye is and all the reasons we respect and trust May and all the reasons we would follow Coulson to the ends of the earth.  Watching a found family start to put down roots is worth it, too, ten times out of ten.

The tie-in stuff wasn’t as overstated and stifling as I remembered it being.  They were allowed quite a long leash even this far back.  Centipede is based on Extremis, but helms a a unique narrative.  The Asgardians-of-the-week are just MacGuffins for driving character stories.  Turns out all of SHIELD has been Hydra all along!  Sucks to be you, a show about the Agents of SHIELD ... oh wait, Daddy MCU’s insane twist is mirrored in the DNA of your team’s composition AND baked into your overall season arc?  Well then.  Carry on!

Engaging with Season 1 explicitly as a prequel is a powerful thing.  First time through, I had the distinct realization that “too much of a good thing” was at play regarding Coulson.  He’s everybody’s favorite MCU character in 2013, hands down, but ... getting intimate with him for 40 minutes a week really waters down his mysterious G-man appeal.  BUT.  After spending six+ years with the man, Season 1!Coulson is a precursor to the 3-dimensional Director you’ll fall in love with, rather than a distortion of the one-liner MCU!Coulson you thought you wanted.

So what’s next!  Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and here all all the things I associate with AoS that were not present in Season 1:

Robot hand.

DaISy JoHnsOn

AGENT/DIRECTOR MACK where is he I need him

Fitz’s facial hair

Their underground SSR base with the exposed brick, I miss that place all the time

Hive, Bobbi*, Hunter, Kyle MacLachlan, Maveth (everything** about Seasons 2 and 3, really).  Robbie Reyes.  Aida and Kasius!!  I know these things are temporary, but they’re so important to the best bits and I love them.

Getting to see episode after episode where there are scenes at a time containing a majority (up to 100%) of women and/or POC characters with executive agency, and none of those characters are token or temporary but were placed there with intent to normalize a diversified cast.

My absolute favorite episode of all time, 4x15 Self Control.

Things I am not looking forward to:

**Lincoln.  I’ve seen these seasons four times and just now I had to google his name because I wasn’t sure it wasn’t Logan.  He’s garbage and I’m glad he’s dead.  Other opinions are available.

Misc. Thoughts

*I said I wouldn’t name names but Adrianne Palicki is a C-lister who can swing a B+ if the stars align. I love Bobbi, though, especially the way the character’s reputation precedes her, how her adorableness complements her badassness.  In fact, the character’s a great foil to May, who is also a badass lady and S-tier agent but has a completely different approach to being those things.  Bobbi’s a reminder that badassness and aloofness are not correlated at all.  Also there’s a headcanon out there that she’s non-binary (one of the reasons she prefers Bobbi over Barbara) and that is a concept I can get behind.  Bobbi’s perfect and I’ll fight you if you don’t agree.

Poor Trip!!!!!!!  When you always start from Season 2, he’s really just a flash in the pan, there and gone.  I’ve always been like, “well, he didn’t really have a home here, no carved-out niche, so I guess getting Coulson’d and becoming something to avenge is the best a character like him is gonna get.”  But now that I see that he comes late to the game as a literal stand in for Ward, his story is that much sadder.  He was never intended to BE a character.  He’s introduced with Garrett as a pawn/distraction during this arc’s who-is-Hydra shell game, he’s kept to demonstrate what kind of friend and agent Ward should have been, his defining character trait as a gentle flirt only serves as a catalyst for Fitz’s coming to terms with his feelings for Simmons.  The poor guy is just a walking plot point, up until the bitter end.  :<

I had entirely forgotten and/or never tracked the fact that Fury put together Coulson’s team specifically to monitor him after project T.A.H.I.T.I.  I’d forgotten the distrust Coulson has for May after he perceives that she has betrayed him by being a part of this.  It’s a season-specific reveal that is literally never mentioned again.  It’s important to the fabric of the narrative of that particular arc, offering up May alongside Ward and Trip as fodder for the aforementioned shell game, but the true inciting incident of this entire show just gets swept under the rug and ceases to matter.  I’m kind of :/ about that.

When you’re bi and non-binary, you’ll get a lot of mileage out of wanting to be/be with Daisy and/or Fitz, don’t judge me

In conclusion, Season 1 is the opposite of literal garbage, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is my favorite show and my favorite MCU movie, Daisy Johnson is my favorite Marvel superhero (not related to Season 1 but still true), and nobody had better spoil Season 7 for me pleaAAASE don’t let it happen.