#I had lots of Harry sketches just didn’t polish them

[londonfoginacup]

I made a 2023 year in review for my art!

If you’ve got canva, I made it into a template you can use for your own art here (never done that before, hope it works!)

[astranva]

Dad!Harry having all daughters and all of them are either doing his hair or putting makeup on him while asking him silly questions about himself 😙

Title: Beautiful Chaos

Word Count: 1.9k

Category: dad!harry fluff

Warnings: Not proofread but none other than that.

That was lovely to write, too, my heart is about to buRST although I couldn’t find a suitable photo for the Instagram post I add at the end oops

There were a lot of things that your husband, Harry, enjoyed. Like, you spooning him after a long day at work, like smelling your coconut scent through the house, and like the fact that he was a father of 3 healthy girls.

Perla, Emerald, and Ruby were 3 girls whom Harry could go to hell and back for, not to mention you, but it had always been like that since the moment he met you.

Perla, being 7 years old, frequently took pride in her “big sister” title, wearing it like a sash around her and especially at her school and around her friends. Out of her sisters, she was the most protective of her family and it was something that had never failed to make you and Harry melt.

Harry even often found himself going on his phone, watching a video he had discreetly recorded when she was only 2. She was sitting on one of the kitchen stools, her eyes following your every move as you made her a sandwich with your baby bump showing, in your 9th month.

“careful, mummy.”

“Mummy, careful!”

“Thank you, mummy. Thank you, little baby.”

She had said during the video, adding a kiss to your bump after her last sentence.

Then Emerald came into the world, and Harry sometimes found himself wondering if his heart had doubled its size to fit all the love he had for his family.

Being 5, Emerald – or Emma as you all frequently called her – was quiet. She was a collected, flexible child who enjoyed art. Harry’s music? She would be listening carefully to it, saying comments that not all 5-year-olds would say;

“I like the piano here.”

“Uncle Mitch did a great job here!”

“Daddy, the bass is so low.”

And it only made sense that yours and Harry’s phones were full of pictures of her with her toy guitar around her shoulders, strumming as she cutely sang Harry’s songs or even some Fleetwood Mac into her green microphone.

And then came your youngest, being 3 – Ruby.

Ruby was a funny and hyperactive child. No hairstyle could sit still for her and more often than not, she sat with messy and chaotic brown hair, clothes a little disheveled. She was definitely more of a risk-taker than her sisters.

You remember only months ago at the beginning of the year, before the pandemic outbreak, when you and Harry were visiting a friend of yours from work and they had a big dog, a Great Dane, Perla and Emerald hiding behind you and Harry as they saw the dog but Ruby thrashed in Harry’s arms, demanding he put her down so she can “play with the puppy.”

And the one time you were at Anne’s, Ruby had curiously poked Dusty’s stomach, which the cat didn’t like to defend itself, it scratched 2-year-old Ruby’s hand.

Everyone stared in shock, waiting for Ruby to break down and cry but were surprised when she stared at her hand with a frown before looking at Dusty who walked off,

“Sorry!” She had only shouted at the cat before standing and grabbing a grape to eat.

With the pandemic outbreak, your family of 5 was quarantined in your London home. Refusing to leave the house unless it was absolutely necessary, you had guided your daughters to understanding how important it was to wear a face mask while outside because it was their duty towards all people, you and Harry included.

But with the pandemic, you and Harry were busy at creating ways that would keep the kids busy as well. From movie nights to activities, you both had tried to keep the kids entertained as well as aware of what was going on as best as you could.

It was one day when everything was just slow-paced, quiet, and chill. Harry had shaved his beard and left a mustache, one that your daughters were very amused by and had been all week.

You sat with your laptop on your lap, earphones connected as you watched The Good Place, but keeping the sound low enough for you to hear what your kids were conversing about.

Harry sat beside you, reading a book he had picked up a couple of days ago, his hand behind your back, fingers gently and mindlessly caressing your back, stroking it up and down in a comforting and soothing manner.

Perla and Ruby were sat together, coloring the most recent sketched you had printed them, while Emerald was sat on the floor against your legs, trying to make you and Harry a beaded bracelet from the toy set Harry had gotten her earlier.

“Mummy, does this look nice?” She asked, turning to look at you as she raised a pink-beaded thread string.

You lowered your laptop screen, looking at her. “It looks very nice, baby. Do you want me to tie it?”

“Yes, please.” She stood, handing you the string and watching you in awe as you did as if you were doing pure magic. You tied it in the way you had learned years ago, when friendship bracelets were a thing, making sure that it can get tighter or looser, however the wearer wanted.

“There you go.”

“Thank you, Mummy.” She grinned as she took it before moving to Harry, attempting to climb him which earned her a giggle from him as he helped her up, putting his book aside before mentally cursing himself because he didn’t know where he stopped.

“Look! I made you this!” Emerald grinned as she handed Harry the bracelet, watching excitedly and waiting for his reaction.

Harry gasped dramatically, “Woooow!” He looked at the bracelet lovingly, feeling like his heart was about to burst as he put it on, vowing to never take it off to himself. “I love it, Em. Thank you so much, baby.”

Emerald grinned bashfully, raising her shoulders closer to her cheeks as she did, Harry grabbing her to press a kiss against her hairline.

You watched with pure love, show long forgotten as you paused and gave your full attention to the scene.

Noticing what was going on, your oldest and youngest paused their coloring to approach you and look at their dad’s new jewelry.

“Good job, Em. Can you make me one?” Your oldest, Perla, asked excitedly as she eyed the bracelet before grinning at her shorter sister, who excitedly nodded at her.

“Me, too!” Ruby chimed, “But blue!”

“First, Mummy,” Emerald pointed at you, “Then Per,” she pointed at her older sister, “Then Rube.”

“Starting a business, aren’t you?” Harry joked, bringing her close to his chest as he playfully gnawed on her cheek, smiling as she squealed out in laughter.

As if the idea had been in her mind for a while, Perla suddenly blurted out a question:

“Daddy, can I put makeup on you?”

You grinned, looking at Harry and waiting for his reply.

He looked at you quickly before moving back to Perla, “I don’t see why not. Go on, get the stuff you need.”

“Ruby, you think we can paint daddy’s nails?” You asked your youngest with an excited grin, hearing your husband laugh.

Ruby nodded with a squeal, holding your hand as you stood up before Perla ran in front of you, you and Ruby following her as you ran towards yours and Harry’s room to get the stuff needed.

“Blue!” Ruby pointed at the blue nail polish bottle while Perla stood with your makeup bag, “And pink.”

“Yellow, too,” Perla added.

“How about we take the whole thing.” You chuckled as you gathered the box in your hands, walking behind your squealing, excited daughters.

At the sight of you, Emerald lit up, “I’ll do daddy’s hair!”

“You girls are giving Daddy a whole makeover, huh?” Harry laughed lovingly, welcoming all the attention.

You sat on Harry’s right, Ruby on his left with the blue nail polish bottle in her hand as she sat on her stomach with Harry’s hand waiting for her. Perla sat on Harry’s lap while Emerald climbed and seated herself on Harry’s shoulders, scrunchie around her wrist as she played with Harry’s hair.

Harry would have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how everything was right there and then. His wife was painting his nails in pink, pastel yellow, and baby blue while his 3-year-old was having her go with his other hand, getting polish on his cuticles but trying nonetheless. His oldest daughter brushing his cheeks with her mom’s blush brush, while his 5-year-old was gently pulling on his hair.

“Okay, done,” Perla closed the blush before moving to choose a lipstick, ending up with your red Mac one and opening it, “Daddy, do like that.” She instructed, puckering her lips. So Harry did, looking up as he did and trying to stifle his giggles as she put on lipstick on his puckered lips, “Okay, no more.” So he set his lips back, Perla continuing on applying the vibrant red color.

You hunched a little forward, a smile making its way to your lips, “Looking beautiful, baby.”

He hummed, his chest shaking with laughter as he felt the lipstick above his upper lip before Perla pulled back and looked back in the bag to apply anything more. He looked at you as you painted the last nail in pink, keeping only his middle finger’s nail in pastel yellow while his thumb and index were in baby blue, his ring and pinky’s being in pink. “Feeling so, too.” He said as he closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows, letting out a sigh of contentment for emphasis, overly dramatic, making you laugh.

It was 20 minutes later when his girls were done with their work and pushed him towards him and his wife’s bedroom, where they had a full-body length mirror.

He looked absolutely chaotic, and he loved everything about it. While his hair stuck in all directions, some lockets were collected by Emerald’s peach-colored scrunchie, one hand was nicely painted – which was painted by his wife – while the other was an absolute mess of blue but you can spot the attempt and it was nothing a nail polish remover couldn’t fix, his eyelids having some glitter on them, red lipstick nicely put except for a smudge right above his upper lip, cheeks too pink.

“What do you think?” Perla asked excitedly.

“Wow!” Harry breathed out, moving closer to the mirror, “I look glamorous!” He put his hands up in a peace sign, puckering his lips and popping up a leg as he posed, making his family laugh.

“Wait, let’s take a picture.” You grinned, raising your phone up as everyone got into a spot; Emerald had her arm thrown on Ruby’s shoulders as she smiled, Ruby sticking her tongue out, Perla choosing to sit down in front of her sisters, crossing her legs as she grinned with her eyes closed. You stood behind the hugging sisters, against Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped one arm around your shoulders from the back, the other around your waist as he smiled into the mirror, his head leaning down to press his cheek against yours. You held your phone with one hand, the other reaching up to hold on to Harry’s arm around you as you grinned before taking the picture.

“Let’s frame that.” Harry whispered to you in bliss, looking at the photo from behind you before moving to wrap both arms around your waist, “Thank you, love. For making me the happiest man alive.”

[kazoo5480]

Ruby eyed Killian as he opened the door, and when Emma came in the door she squealed running toward her.

“Are you insane! I was terrified when you disappeared! You didn’t answer your phone, I was so worried” Ruby admonished while hugging her in a rocking motion. She kissed Emma’s cheek leaving a red imprint, and Emma smiled.

“Thank you, Rubes. I needed exactly what you gave me” she said and hugged her friend.

Ruby nodded and glanced at Killian. He stepped forward and Ruby hugged him, whispering in his ear that she had just been trying to protect them both.

He nodded, and Ruby cupped his cheek. She handed her keys to Emma before they could ask, and said she would have food ready for them on their way out.

Killian walked into Emma’s room and noticed her bed looked very slept in. Like a nest of pillows and blankets.

“Swan, did you have guests?” He asked, and she nodded.

“Ruby and M’s slept with me,” she said and his heart squeezed.

“C'mere, Swan” and patted the bed. She sat and he cupped her jaw. “No more running, I’m not, I need you to not either. Do you need space? We argue, I’ll give you space but we don’t leave our house angry, or scared. Ok?” His eyes bore into hers, and she nodded.

“Ok. But what if we need actual space?” She asked moving to stand.

He shrugged. I’ll get a couch for the office, sleep in the shop. But no, Granny’s isn’t our safe haven when we fight. That’s something I’ve been thinking about too" he said.

Emma looked at him curiously. “What do you mean? She asked.

"A house. For us. More space, I don’t know. It was just a thought” he said as he shoved her laptop bag full and zipped it.

Emma didn’t respond, and when he looked at her she sat in his lap and put her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry again. My rationale was that I ran somewhere nearby where I could straighten myself out. You had Graham, but my lack of communication sent you to a dark place. I trusted you, I knew you wouldn’t do that to me. But I needed the space to make sure my feelings were under control, that I wouldn’t hurt you just out of retaliation for your horrible ex-girlfriend. I didn’t plan to run out of town, that’s why I came here. A block away, I just needed to make sure that I was able to be rational, tell you why I did this to myself, and apologize to you” she said softly, and he let her continue.

“I hurt you by not trusting myself. I don’t know how to make that up to you. I am sorry you felt alone, I just was so afraid I’d say something to make it worse when really by saying nothing made it worse than words probably ever could have. I’ll just try to be better for you, every day.” she finished.

Killian wiped the stray tears on her cheeks away. “Ground rules Swan. No running. You wanna yell, fine. You want to run, you tell me why, and then you can yell some more when I won’t let you run. You just can’t do that to me, it made me feel insane because I lost the one person I depend on. Who held my happiness inside of her, and while on some level I knew you had to be nearby, I couldn’t say a word" he said, swallowing.

“You didn’t pick up calls, I didn’t know where you were. Had it been me who stumbled in and saw you in that way, I would have probably hit the guy too. The difference is I would have stopped, and asked if you were ok, and taken you home. You ran, like a ghost with no way for me to find you. I get it from your past, the abandonment, I forgive you, but I can’t have you do it ever again. It isn’t fair to me” he finished.

Emma nodded and hugged him. “I promise” she whispered and he hugged her tighter.

Killian kissed her, “now let’s get you home. We can watch all 7 Harry Potters since I probably won’t be letting you out of my sight for a while,” he said with a small chuckle.

Emma nodded, “fair enough”. She set her forehead against his.

“Are you sure that you can forgive me?” She asked and he nodded.

“I did the moment you left the note on your pillow, I just wish you’d have said where you were” he whispered.

“I knew you’d break the door down, and I wasn’t ready,” she said, stroking his hair.

Killian grabbed her bag, and she took one last look and they headed home, grabbing the bag off the counter from Ruby.

Emma unpacked quickly and changed into her pajamas wrapping one of Killian’s flannels around her as she ate her grilled cheese watching Harry Potter. Killian polished off his burger, and Emma laid atop him snuggling into him.

Killian’s phone chirped and he opened it, Emma watching the TV. Marco emailed him. He kissed Emma’s hair and said he would be right back, and headed into the bathroom.

Marco had sketched something incredibly similar to the photo, and he had priced out different stones giving him an idea. Killian typed out the number, one he had crunched every which way to make sure it was a smart choice and emailed him back asking what his options for the stone, the ring, and Marcos work would be totaled together.

He brushed his teeth and plugged his phone in. He smiled. Marco had said it could be ready by June, if not earlier. He shook the thought away and smiled at Emma curled up. He came back, and she sat up making room for him.

"Can we get a bigger couch? Like a sectional? She asked and he laughed beneath her cheek.

"Why? You don’t want to share couch space?” He asked her.

“No it’s not that, but it would be nice to get something more comfortable, maybe with one of those chaise things we can snuggle on together,” she said, her bottom lip jutting out and he laughed.

"As you wish” and kissed her forehead.

Emma headed to bed and snuggled into Killian. “Is it cold in here to you? She asked him.

He shook his head and felt her forehead, and frowned. "You don’t feel warm, do you not feel well?” He asked.

She shook her head, “just cold” she said.

“What do you think about a dog?” He mused as he played with her hair.

Emma looked at him, “I always wanted one,” she said with a small smile, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a little hopefulness.

He smiled,“ let’s get one. Someone for you to run with,” he said.

Emma smiled, “We don’t have a yard, the concrete out back would hurt its paws,” she said sadly.

He thought about it and nodded. “What if we fostered one for the holiday season? Graham always says they need foster homes since the staff wants to be with their families.”

“I think that would be okay,” she said, “just a foster until we have more room.”

“Are you allergic to anything?” He mused. She smiled and nodded, “penicillin.” He was surprised, but it was good to know.

“Are you?” She responded, and he shook his head, “not that I know of, but that’s good to know. Is August?” He asked and she shook her head.

“I should probably update my forms,” she said absentmindedly.

“Forms?” He asked her, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, medical forms, emergency contact information. I can add you, and keep August” she said.

He nodded. “I should probably do that too. Graham is mine,” he said. Emma nodded and kissed his jaw.

“You really aren’t cold?” She asked him again, and he shook his head pulling her closer. He started worrying, what if she got sick.

She curled her legs, tucking her feet between his calves. Killian yelped.

“What the bloody hell is that? You’re that cold?” She smiled and nodded at him.

“I’ll plastic the windows this weekend,” he said and kissed her forehead.

“I love you” she whispered, her head tucked under his chin.

“I love you more than anything. Sleep, I have a busy day tomorrow” and cuddled her tighter.

Killian’s breath evened out, and Emma couldn’t sleep. She laid there thinking, unable to turn her brain off. She began reading work emails, and deciding which cases she would take and those she wouldn’t. She knew she wanted to quit her job, but she also knew she had to give Graham an answer.

She rolled over on her side, looking at Storybrooke real estate. A large Gray victorian was for sale. It looked like it needed a lot of TLC, but it wasn’t crazy expensive. She would run past it tomorrow.

“Emma, sleep” Killian grumbled pulling her back into his chest, curling around her.

She shut her eyes, and finally drifted off to sleep, his body heat warming her.

Killian snuck out of bed and dressed, opening the shop up. He had a full day and was grateful for it. He had a ring to buy after all so he should probably try to keep the garage as full as possible.

He texted August and said he did want some help with stocks after all. Maybe a few investments were not a bad idea. He also thought about Emma’s approaching birthday, and his thought was interrupted as the new neighbor Ingrid pulled into the lot.

He waved and walked out to greet her. He apologized for his behavior, and she smiled knowingly. “

I’ve met Emma, she is lovely,“ she said and he nodded.

She needed help with her new ice cream truck and asked if he could have it towed, it needed quite a bit of work and a paint job. He happily accepted and promised to drop by around lunch. She left her car for an oil change, and he said he would drive it back to her when he came to see the truck.

Billy walked up the lot and Killian waved him in, and he turned on the radio getting to work.

Emma got up and pulled her email up, groaning when she saw a new case waiting in her inbox. She read the file, it was something local in Portland, so she agreed and said she would take it up tomorrow. That would be the last one she decided and would tell him after she turned the skip in, and got paid.

She headed down, Killian was under a car so she lowered the music waving to Billy. “Jones?” she called out.

Killian slid out and sat up, and she knelt before him. Pulling her phone out she showed him her maps, “I made sure you had access, I promise not to ever turn it off, even if I get mad. Ok?” she said and he pulled her to him and kissed her.

“Enjoy your run” and he kissed her again and she stood up, watching him slide back under the car.

Emma put her headphones in, and thought to the gray house, typing the address into her app and following the route. She hit play, and her music came to life. She tried to focus on the scenery, the people who smiled at her as she ran by, waving back. She tried to pick apart the last few days, tomorrow and analyzed why she was even running past this house.

She found herself running along the road, the beach and water to her right, and she noticed the houses were spread out further here. She wondered if she was lost, and then she saw it. She slowed to a walk stopping outside the white picket fence.

The house was massive and looked like it was in quite a state of disrepair. She noticed a flyer box on the for sale sign sitting on the lawn. She grabbed one, and walked around the back of the house, taking it in. The lawn was overgrown but there was a good size garage, three cars maybe, and the yard had a big tree, a lot of sun, and privacy.

She looked at the flyer again, and it was a pretty big house on the inside, whatever that looked like. The photos looked older, but she knew it wouldn’t be right to look at it without Killian.

When she got back she went upstairs and changed, heading to the market. She grabbed everything for the week, and some stuff to take to Portland with her on the off chance she was stuck overnight. She started making stir fry, and Killian walked in as it was almost done.

“No offense love, but you need a shower,” he said and kissed her neck. She laughed at him and told him to scoot. Killian headed down the hall, and she finished up, setting the dinner aside.

She stripped off her clothes and got in the shower. Killian’s back was to her and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” he said and turned around smiling down at her.

“Never said I would,” she said and lifted on her toes to kiss him. “But I do need a shower,” she said.

Killian hummed in appreciation, and grabbed the showerhead, holding it over her, and she started washing her hair, and he poured a generous amount of her body wash in her hand, rubbing it over her back, and slipping his soapy hands around, washing her everywhere except where she wanted him.

He was driving her insane on purpose. Emma smiled, let him continue, and began smearing the soap everywhere he wasn’t touching her, giving him a little show. Killian sat on the bench while she rinsed and shaved, and she watched as he took himself in hand, clearly trying to kill her with sexual tension.

Killian watched her close her eyes, sighing as the hot water ran over her body, her full breasts rosy pink, the cloud of vanilla encompassing the shower. He watched as she rubbed the soap off her chest, sliding her hands down and she threw him a saucy smirk, turning around and letting him take in a full view of her ass.

He groaned, his hand gently tugging his shaft, his skin flushed from the steam and before he was too far gone, he sat back, the cool glass against his back. Emma stood before him and kneeled. She tugged his lips to hers, her tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, and his arms banded around her pulling her closer.

Emma ran her hands down his chest, her nails scraping over his thighs, and he smirked at her, she kissed her way down before taking his thick cock in her hand and running her tongue across the weeping tip. She felt Killian’s hand weave into her hair, and she took him inside to her throat.

“Gods love, just like that,” he said and she sucked softly, swirling her tongue around the head before pumping him, and licking him sac to tip. His fingers tightened, scraping her scalp. She went back to doting on him, gently caressing his sac, and taint, paying special attention to the thick vein that ran up the length of him and he moaned her name loud enough for it to echo off the tiles.

“Emma” he cried, and she went faster. He was rutting his hips, holding her hair so tightly that he was fucking her mouth. She let him set the pace, and continued rubbing and cupping him, urging him on. She felt him swell and knew he was getting close. She sucked harder, her tongue rolling over the tip of him, and he growled as he came in her mouth.

Emma slowed her movements, gently letting him ride out the aftershocks and she looked up and him, his head tipped against the glass and eyes shut. She smirked and stood, washing her face and brushing her teeth quickly. She looked over, and his chest was heaving but he was looking at her with a wicked grin.

She shut the water off and reached for a towel which he promptly snatched away. He backed her against the tile and tossed the towel over the glass. “Oh love, I’m not done with you yet” he purred, and his fingers traced lines down Emma’s sides, tickling her.

Killian smirked as she giggled at him, and he glided his hands up to cup the heavy weights of her breasts, running his thumbs across the peaks. He kept his eyes locked on hers, watching the green darken, and she bit down on her lip. He tugged and rolled each nipple, getting her attention.

“I want to hear you,” he said and leaned in to kiss the column of her throat. Nipping and sucking the sensitive points, until she finally sighed, and her hips bucked. He smirked and felt his cock begin to harden again, felt the need for her crackling in his veins. He tugged her away from the wall and guided her to face the bench, lifting her leg to it, opening her.

He knelt behind her, and kissed over the globes of her perfect ass, leaving light bite marks in his wake as he moved her foot over slightly to widen her. Emma gasped above him, her hands planted on the glass in front of her for balance.

Killian licked and kneaded her cheeks until they were pink, and he smirked. He moved his way up, kissing her spine as he rose, and Emma trembled, goosebumps rising on her flesh. He nosed along her shoulder, lightly biting down on her neck, his tongue running over the marks left behind.

“Killian” she whispered, and he ran his palms across her belly, and hips until he finally ran his fingers across her slippery folds earning him a cry that would haunt him. “Please” she begged.

“Mmm, I like when you beg. What do you want, Swan?” He murmured as he continued touching her so delicately, that he could see her hands curling against the glass in frustration as he avoided the pressure he knew would make her body sing for him.  

“I want you” she panted.

“Where?” he asked in a taunting tone.

Emma looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes flashing defiantly, and she lowered her leg off the bench to the ground. She grabbed the towel and left him there, and he cocked his head at her, as he watched her towel off.

“I didn’t say you could leave,” he said to her.

“I didn’t ask you to edge me as punishment,” she said and he could see her getting mad. On some level he wanted her mad, wanted her frustrated, to fuck their way through this, but he had to tread carefully with her right now, he could see the emotions flickering across her face. Anger, fear, anxiety, frustration.

He strode to her, pulling the towel gently from her and letting it pool on the floor. She said nothing, he gripped her hips, sliding his palms over her ass, and pulled her against him. Emma’s eyes were filled with fire when he looked into them.

“I am not punishing you, my love,” he said, nipping at her lip, sinking his teeth into it, his tongue running over it, and he felt her hands go to his chest, her nails scraping his skin.

Emma felt his fingers digging into her ass, hard enough to bruise her. He was pushing her towards something, but she didn’t know what it was yet. Killian had never used sex as a weapon or punishment, she trusted his instincts, to always show her love. But right now, his eyes were blazing with blue fire.

Emma took a deep breath, her body trembling. “I am desperate for you,” she whispered. “I need you to love me” she admitted feeling ashamed at her admission. Killian released her ass and his arms banded around her back lifting her, he walked her to the bed, and laid her down, stretching out on top of her.

“I do love you, more than anything Emma,” he said and kissed her hard. “I need you, I am just as desperate for you, to have you want me, to love me, to choose me,” he said and kissed her deeply. Emma moaned as he rubbed his cock through her folds, his hands tangled in her hair.

“I would do anything to have you be mine, give up everything for you. So long as you were mine, and only mine” he practically growled.

Emma’s mind was reeling too many thoughts, and his words, his hips driving her mad as they rubbed against her, her arousal skyrocketing.

“I am yours” she sighed, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, taking a deep pull on it, making her back arch. “Just yours,” she said in a breathy cry, and he released her nosing at the opposite one, teasing it to a tight peak.

“Why won’t you make love to me?” She asked, and the tone of her voice sounded broken.

“I am. Focus on me, on us, what we are doing right now, in our bed. What do we always do in our bed? Tell me,” he said harshly, his eyes boring into hers as he hovered above her.

“Love. We always love each other” she said softly and he nodded.

“I am loving you, I am showing you I love you, only you. You are mine, and I am yours, whether I fuck you, make love slowly to you, or hold you, I am only ever showing you love Emma” and he guided himself inside of her, pushing the tip of his cock into her slowly.

Emma cried out, as he inched in, pumping in and out in shallow thrusts, preparing her to take him in. Her walls so tight and hot around him, he groaned at the intense feeling shooting up his spine, his heart hammering in his chest. Emma’s eyes squeezed shut at the intrusion, her breaths coming in short pants, ghosting over his lips. They snapped open the moment he was fully seated within her.

He snapped his hips and plunged into her as deep as he could in one stroke, filling her, stretching her, erasing every inch of space that she was feeling. His hands were everywhere. His skin touched every inch of hers that they could manage, and he never took his eyes off hers.

Every thrust, he never looked away, couldn’t look away. He kept his eyes on hers, forcing her to understand that he was hers, he wasn’t leaving, she owned him as much as he owned her. He pushed her legs wider apart, her hands clenched in the sheets, gripping them tightly.

Her green eyes sparkled with unshed tears, he leaned down to kiss her swollen lips. Their tongues tangled, sucking, and massaging each other’s so that they could hardly breathe. Emma felt like she was drowning, in pleasure, in him, in the feelings he was pouring into her with each thrust.

She locked her legs around his hips dragging him deeper inside, her arms around his neck hanging on as he fucked her hard, their moans and cries, skin slapping echoed through the empty loft.

Killian was reaching his breaking point, his release building quickly, and he wasn’t going over the edge without dragging her with him. He reached down, lightly rubbing the swollen nub, and Emma cried his name, her eyes snapped shut.

Emma was going to come, it was brewing hard inside of her, and it was going to tear through her, every roll of his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing so deeply inside of her, she closed her eyes at the onslaught of sensations, tensing around him. Her thighs trembled, and he wasn’t slowing down.

Emma’s nails were digging into his shoulders, almost painfully. He felt her clench down on him, her whimpers and moaning music to his ears, and the sensation of her squeezing his dick so tightly almost made him let go, but not without her. He changed angles, hitching her legs off his hips he pushed them to her chest and plunged in hard and fast, their headboard shook against the wall, banging against it with each thrust.

As soon as he pushed her legs to her chest, pushing in deeper than ever before, Emma screamed.

“Oh god” she chanted over and over as her orgasm rolled through her, and Killian roared as he spent himself inside of her, unable to hold it back any longer. His hands clasped around her wrists and he held them above her head pinning her still, as he emptied himself, nearly collapsing from the force of it.

Killian stayed hunched over her and pushed her legs down collapsing on her chest, releasing her hands as his heart pounded. Emma’s own heart was thudding beneath his ear while he felt her fingers sift through his hair lazily, both of them too tired to move yet.

He turned his head resting his chin on her chest. “Did I prove my point?” he asked with a light laugh, his chest still heaving and Emma huffed out a giggle and nodded.

He dipped his head down and kissed the skin over her heart. “I love you” she whispered, and he kissed her skin again in response. He pulled out of her slowly, and at this point didn’t care if the sheets got dirty. He pulled her into his chest, and they dozed off wrapped in each other.

Emma woke up, and glanced at the clock, it was nearly eight, she felt sticky, and went into the bathroom shutting the door. She used a washcloth and cleaned herself up, and tugged her robe on. She went to the kitchen where the stir fry had been long forgotten, but started the rice anyway, and heard the water run in the bathroom.

Killian came out in his sweats and grabbed a glass of water. He came to Emma and picked her up, setting her on the island and kissed her.

“Nice nap?” he asked her and she nodded, and hugged him.

“I have to work tomorrow, and I wanted to show you something,” she said and he nodded.

“Just to portland?” he asked and she nodded, sliding off the counter and grabbing the folded flyer out from under her laptop.

“I will do this job, and I am going to put in my notice, which leads me to the other thing I wanted to show you. But it can wait, it’s not important” she said, and he shook his head, plucking the paper from her fingers quickly. He opened it, and his eyes widened.

Emma blushed, watching him look it over.

“You want to buy a house?” he asked, kind of shocked. Emma shrugged.

“I thought we could look at it,” she said quietly. Killian could tell that she was holding something back.

“Talk to me Em, what is this about?” he asked.

Emma went to stir the stirfry that she was heating back up, placing the lid back over it.

“If I quit my job, and we want to buy it, I would have time to do stuff myself. I know it is a lot of work, but I thought you might like it. I ran past it, grabbed the flyer. I didn’t decide to buy a house without you, I just took the flyer, and I thought you might like the water being out your front door is all” she said and turned around, feeling her cheeks turn pink.

Killian looked at the paper, “This is Gold’s old house” he said. He read through it, it was a big house, a really big, old house. He thought about the ring he was about to buy, and a house wasn’t factored into that right now too. He needed to talk to August.

Emma leaned against the counter, “I would buy the house. In cash” she said, and Killian’s eyes went wide.

“What do you mean in cash? Who has that much cash in the bank? Do you even have a bank account?” he teased.

“August handles the money, I have it, I just never used it” she shrugged.

Killian’s head was spinning. “You just have 230 grand sitting in the bank?” he said skeptically. She shook her head.

“August handles it all, he invested everything we had ever earned aside from rent. He wanted us to be sure that we would never be poor or worry about money ever again, learned everything about stocks and that stuff, I have it, and probably the renovation costs too if I cashed some stuff out. I haven’t told him yet, but he sends me the statements” she said.

Killian leaned back, kind of shocked. “Em, you didn’t want to adopt a pet, two days ago you were hiding from me, and now you want to buy a house? I am just a little lost here, and the money thing, I don’t care about that. But a house, a big house is a huge step here, and that makes me nervous” he says honestly.

Emma nodded. “I know, I didn’t expect it. I just ran past it and poked around the yard looking at it. It was odd, I felt something I haven’t ever felt unless I was with you, or August” she said avoiding his eyes.

Killian stepped toward her and tipped her chin up, “and what is that, love?”

“Home. It felt like it could be a home, a real one” she whispered, and looked down almost seeming embarrassed. Killian wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. He sighed.

“We can look at it, ok?” Make an appointment for the weekend, or when you get back from work, we have to go get your car this weekend too,” he said and she nodded.

“Do you think we will ever do things in a normal time frame?” She smiled at him.

He grinned back, “probably not. We are absolutely mad, but it’s ok. It is us.”

He went to her laptop and pulled the listing up, looking over some of the photos, the place needed a lot, but it had good bones, and he thought of Liam. When he walked into the shop which was a dump, he said it has good bones, and they built the business in it, the good bones holding it up.

He smiled as Emma slid a plate to him and grabbed her own, and they sat looking through the pictures. “It might have good bones, we will see. Just don’t get your hopes up ok?” he said and she nodded.

“So tell me about the skip tomorrow,” he asked her. She told him, it was a quick find she thought, a few hours, and she already tracked his debit card to three ATMs, so she had an idea of where he might be and who to lean on. He was overwhelmed but nodded.

“Are you sure you want to quit?” he asked her as they put fresh sheets on, and climbed into bed.

Emma looked at him, “Do you think I shouldn’t? I don’t have to. I just thought…” and Killian kissed her.

“That wasn’t what I asked Swan, or said. I said, are you sure you want to quit?” he said.

“I know I don’t want random trips out of town anymore. I know I want to be with you, and here would be easier. I don’t think or know if I want to work with Graham but it’s a job, and whatever, and I am sure August would give me work too, so I could do it from home but I would need an office area. We are just a little tight on space up here, so I could use the office downstairs and get a better door if the drills are going” she said.

He nodded, “Ok, as long as you know that I am not asking you to quit. I am not telling you to. I don’t mind that you aren’t chasing criminals anymore, but that it is your choice. It is always your choice,” he said and smoothed her curls back.

I know, she said, and he nodded, pulling her into his chest and stroking her arm.

“So a house, huh? I assume a dog? Anything else on that list you have in your head?” he mused.

Emma smiled against his chest, “Not yet” she said.

“That means that there is more, but just not yet?” he asked her, feeling a weird sense of hope flutter in his chest.

She nodded, “not yet,” she said and buried her cold feet between his calves making his whole body jerk.

He rolled out of bed. “That’s it, you are sleeping in socks from now until summer,” he said and pulled wool socks over her feet. He climbed back in and she curled in, kissing his jaw.

“Spoilsport” she teased.

“Aye, I am the spoilsport who doesn’t want frostbite,” he said and kissed her head turning out the light.

“Get some rest, I love you,” he said and she snugged in burrowing into his side.

“I love you too,” she said.  

Emma got up and showered, grabbing her overnight bag hopefully for the last time in a long while, and Killian sent her out the door with a breakfast burrito and a kiss. She smiled and got in her car, making one last trek to Portland.

She dialed August, who picked up immediately.

“Hey sunshine, what’s up?” he said.

“How much do I have in the bank and stocks?” she asked, watching the traffic in front of her.

“Are you running somewhere?” He asked.

“No. But seriously, how much?” She heard him typing.

“How much do you need?” he asked.

“Probably 230. Maybe less, maybe more. Do I have that?” she asked.

August whistled. “You are being incredibly cryptic. You’re not asking for ten grand, so tell me why” he said.

She sighed, “a house. I’m considering buying one. Roots and all that,” she said.

He went quiet, and she heard more typing. “You’d have to cash in some stock, but you would still have a healthy portfolio even if we moved some stuff around. Do you want to buy a house? You were just considering leaving” he said pointedly.

“I didn’t run. I needed a breath, and you were right. I took that breath and put on my big girl panties, and now I am interested in a house August” she said irritatedly.

“I want to see it,” he said.

She sent him the link and waited.

“Wow. That’s a whole lot of house. Why is it so cheap, is that on the water?” he asked, and she heard clicking.

“It needs work. A lot of it. But if I can talk the owner down 30k, it could be a good investment once it was done,” she pointed out.

“Em, this place needs like everything from the looks of it. You’re sure?” he asked.

“I just had a feeling,” she said quietly.

“It felt like a home, didn’t it?” he asked.

Of course, he would understand. “Yeah, or the possibility of one. Holidays, and a bunch of things, just a feeling.”

He hummed. “Okay. Well, talk to the owner. See what she says, try to get her to 190. The roof alone will be 30k to replace, not to mention the new driveway, and probably pipes and electrical.”

Emma scoffed, “How do you know that?” she asked.

He laughed, “Emma you called me. I’m pulling permits and records on the house. It’s actually historical,” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s just a thought” she said.

“Does Killian know?” he asked.

“Yeah, we talked about it a little. I just wanted to see it, if it was even reasonable, he agreed to look at it, mentioned good bones or something, but not to get my hopes up” she said.

He laughed. “Well, at least he is being smart. Good bones and everything” he said chuckling.

“I don’t know, it was just a question, could I afford it if I wanted it, I wasn’t sure how much liquid I had, I mean I see the statements but that doesn’t equal liquid cash,” she said.

“You lived like a fraternity kid for the last ten years, rarely splurging and I manage all of our money. If you want the house you can get it and not even touch Killian’s money. Did you show him your statement? Please tell me you didn’t” he said.

“No, I didn’t, your stuff is on it too. So no, of course not. Wait, you have access to his accounts?” she asked.

“Just his personal ones, I don’t look at them. But I offered him help a while back if he wanted to do stock options” he said.

Emma was surprised, and then she wasn’t. August made sure they would never be poor again. If the important person in her life was going to be permanent, August would ensure they wanted for nothing.

“I’m considering quitting my job, I am actually on my way to Portland now,” she said.  

August went quiet and coughed. “What? Why? He didn’t ask you, did he?”

“No, no. I just did some thinking before the fight, it doesn’t really make me happy anymore. I hate being gone a lot, and I kind of hate not being here, and if I want to come to see you, or travel I want to just go and live that life you and I always talked about, ya know?”

“Ah. I see. Well, come work for me. Work from home, make your own hours, but don’t be the fucking deputy” he laughed.

“Hey! I didn’t accept the offer. I feel bad because he does need help, it’s a local dependable job” she argued.

“Don’t ever wear a uniform or I will disown you” he laughed. ���Brown is not your color duckling.”

“Ugh, alright mom, I have to go. I am nearly there. I’ll call you after. Love you byeeeee” and hung up.

The moment Emma left the lot Killian called Marco.

“Hello, Marco? Killian Jones” he said.

“Ah, good morning my boy. I saw your response, but since you called I can walk you through it. Is it a safe time to speak?” he asked.

“Sure. Now is good” Killian said.

“The design itself is not troublesome, what size stone do you think?” he asked and Killian looked through his notes.

“between one and two carats, I think the round would look nice,” he said.

“That is a fine choice for Emma. Now, do you have a preference for the Diamond?” he asked.

“Marco, I don’t know anything about diamonds. What are my options? Killian asked.

“Well, a 1.5 carat Diamond, with almost perfect clarity can run quite a lot. But I did some digging around, and I would be able to get you an almost flawless diamond for around Sixteen thousand. I would take no fee because it is for Emma, it would be my pleasure and my gift to you both” he said.

“So the diamond, and what about the setting? What would it be?” he asked.

“Do you want platinum, white gold, yellow gold, or rose gold?” Marco asked, and Killian heard typing.

Killian pulled the picture up, “The photo is white gold” he said, and Marco went back to typing.

“I could do the design, with that stone, the sapphires are small, in white gold and it would total to around twenty-four thousand, waiving all of my fees and labor,” he said.

“Marco, that isn’t fair. You are making a ring” he said.

“I am making something special for a child I was lucky enough to have in my life when I had none of my own. I told you, my gift is to do this for Emma” he said.

Killian scratched behind his ear. “That is incredibly generous of you, but I need you to be sure, I want you to be absolutely sure, you run a business,” he said.

Marco hummed. “Fine, you can pay me one dollar for fees,” he said, sounding like he was smiling.

Killian laughed, “you are an amazing man Marco. One dollar, accepted.”

“When can I expect to see you?” Marco asked.

“Um, I can probably swing a trip sometime after the holidays. Can you email me updates or photos in the meantime” Killian asked, suddenly nervous.

“Of course. I will send you all the details and receipts and call my guy now” Marco said. “You will make her very happy Killian, I am glad for you both. Thank you for including me” he said.

Killian blushed, “thank you, Marco,” he said and the man hung up.

He felt a rush of relief, that was all done. They had plenty of time to figure it out until it was ready, and a year was more than enough time to be together before an engagement.

The house crossed his mind, and just what else might be on Emma’s mental list, but he wouldn’t push. They needed to talk more about all these thoughts he was having, but he needed to get his head out of the clouds and work so he could pay for this ring.

Billy and he cranked out 6 oil changes, two tune-ups, and rolled Ingrid’s truck into the shop when everything was in the lot for pickup.

They stood side by side and looked at it. Billy whistled, “this is going to be a lot of work,” he said, and Killian nodded.

He sat back on the stool and lit a smoke, and grabbed his clipboard. He had Billy crawl under and start calling out things, Killian made a list of parts, and figured out how to get this thing running.

He was grateful when his cell rang, and August’s name flashed.

"Hello August,” he said.

“Jones. You got a second?”

“Sure, one minute”, Killian went into the office closing the door. “What’s up?”

“You two are moving things along arent you?” He said cryptically.

Killian sighed. “Did you call to bust my balls because I am actually working.”

“No, just between Emma’s thoughts, and you, you two are like speed racers. What is the rush with you two?” He asked.

“What do you mean? Did she says something?” Killian got anxious.

“Listen, I think it’s time we do some investing on your part. Emma is covered, but let me play around a bit with yours, put you in our options, grow that little nest egg you are sitting on” August said and Killian heard typing.

“Are you looking at my bank account?” He demanded.

“No, no. But Emma mentioned the house, and I am sure you are already considering a ring, it would be a wise choice to start making some moves to build that egg, and lucky for you, I am good at it” August said.

He scratched behind his ear, nervous. “Aug I don’t know, I need cash right now, and this house, if she wants it…”

“Emma has the house covered Jones” August said like it was nothing.

“That isn’t right mate if we buy a house we buy it together” he protested.

“Well, I know you don’t love her for money, you didn’t even know she had any since she lived like a child. So just do me a favor and let her buy the house. You can pay her back by being wise, and investing smartly to protect the offspring you two will inevitably have with the rate you two go at each other” he said sounding like he was laughing

Killian almost dropped the phone, “Wait. Does Emma tell you about our sex life!”

“No, she doesn’t need to thank god. I can tell by looking at you two, easy Jones. Anyways let me make some moves, give me ten to play with. If I lose it, I will put it back. If I triple it, you can thank me and name your child after me” he said laughing.

Killian laughed too, “you want ten grand to play with, like monopoly? And if you lose it, you put it back out of your own money? Fine.”

“Excellent. I mean I could do twenty. You have over seventy in the savings…” August said like he was talking about pennies.

“August, get out of my account. Ten. Start there, if you do it, I will let you take over, but please get out of my account. Seriously” Killian said, growing agitated.

“Fine, fine. Scott! He said yes”, August called out. Killian groaned.

“Love you both, bye”, Killian said ending the call. God her brother was a pain the ass, he looked at the ceiling pinching the bridge of his nose, a pang of longing for his own brother crossing his heart.

He came out and Billy handed him a completed list. They rolled the whiteboard out, and Billy did a crude mock-up of the truck and began writing. He looked at the clock, it was nearing six.

“Hey man, head out, I will see you in the morning,” Killian said and Billy nodded, just as exhausted as he was.

Killian closed up and headed upstairs to shower. He charged his phone and she still had not called after the text of arriving.

He dialed her as he dressed. “Hey babe, call you back,” she said and hung up.

She sounded like she was running. He sat on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face, and pulled up the tracking app. He followed her, she was most definitely running or driving very fast, but he zoomed in, the dot stopped. He waited a few minutes watching it, still not moving.

What the fuck, he thought. His heart relaxed when he saw it move again, slowly, but it moved. She must have got him.

He waited another hour, and the phone rang. “Swan, are you ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, um I am going to be a little late,” she said.

“Oh, ok. But you are heading back?”

“Ouch” she bit out and he heard a male’s voice in the background.

“Swan? What is going on?” he asked standing.

“Um, he had a knife, ouch! And he cut my arm, I’m being stitched. Easy man, it isn’t falling off,“ she barked at the medic.

"I’m coming to get you,” he said pulling a shirt on, trying to find his jeans.

“No, no. Seriously ill send you a photo, it isn’t bad, it was just a weird angle that caught me. I am ok, really. I turned him in, and tomorrow I am sending in my notice, I just wanted to get paid.”

“ You really decided to go out with a bang huh?” He said completely unamused.

Emma sighed, “I have had worse, I am ok. Hey, are you done? Can I go? Alright, babe, I am done. I will be out of here in a few and heading home. See you in like two hours or so.”

“Ok, just please be safe,” he said feeling defeated and anxiety building.

“I will. Killian, I love you” she said quickly.

He smiled, “I love you more than anything, one piece Swan. Not tiny pieces, not cut pieces. One whole piece,” he said.

“Aye Aye Captain,” she said and cut the call off.  

He smiled and climbed into bed. He turned the laptop on and put on a movie, they needed a tv for in here, seriously.

He went on amazon and ordered a small one and a wall mounting kit.

He woke up when he heard the door shut. Emma came in quietly and went into the bathroom, and the shower turned on. He heard her wince, and was at the door knocking a second later.

“Em, open up,” he said through the door.

She opened the door, looking a bit worse for wear. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I need to shower.”

Killian walked in and took a look at her outstretched arm. It was a nasty gash.

“Do you need help?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“I’ll be out in a few, sorry I woke you up.”

Emma held her arm out of the spray and washed the night off of her. She came out and Killian had Tylenol and a glass of water on her nightstand as he sat and waited for her.

She pulled on a flannel of his and crawled into bed, and he propped her arm up on some extra pillows.

“Thanks,” she said. “I am sorry.”

“Well, we got roughly 5 months in with you unscathed, and if this is your last one, then I say you did alright,” and kissed her forehead.

She nodded and was grateful it was her left arm and not her right. She yawned, and Killian tucked her damp curls behind her ear, and snuggled in closer to her, wrapping his hand around her good one as they fell asleep.

Killian got up with the sun, watching Emma sound asleep. He took in her golden curls in the morning light, her dark lashes on the apples of her cheeks. The dusting of freckles coating her nose. He just soaked her in, completely at peace.

“You’re watching me sleep again, Jones. It’s weird,” she mumbled with a small smile and snuggled into his chest.

He smiled and held her as best as he could without moving her arm. She would need Tylenol, he waited a few minutes before he headed to the kitchen and got everything, laying it on her nightstand. He kissed her cheek and headed down to the shop buttoning his coveralls.

He rolled the garage door up, and lit a smoke, grabbing the list they had started and placed an order for the parts they knew so far, getting a head start.

He grabbed the creeper and had just slid under the car when he heard Emma scream.

He bolted up the stairs and ran to the bathroom, “Emma!” He called and opened the door.

“I popped a stitch. Do you have a thread or a kit? She asked, and he nodded, taking in the blood soaking through the cloth she had against it.

"Babe it’s just a stitch, hurry” she pleaded and he ran down the stairs grabbing the red box.

He ran in and opened it on the counter, searching for the sutures. He found the steri strips and pulled them out, tearing one off.

He took her arm and he pulled the cloth away, Emma winced. He held her arm up above her head for a few seconds, and quickly pulled it down, securing her skin and adding a second for good measure.

Emma watched how quickly he worked, with soft touches. She smiled as he finished. “ Thank you,” she said and kissed him.

He nodded, do you need anything else? He asked, gazing at her softly. Emma shook her head.

Killian nodded and washed the blood off his hands. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need help.”

Emma kissed him and he headed down the hall. She finished brushing her teeth and pulled leggings on. She went to her laptop, popped it open, and dialed her boss.

After a long discussion, she gave her resignation. Her boss was a little pissed but she said after last night, her decision was made. She recommended two people she knew in Boston who did side work, and he appreciated it. She thanked him and ended the call.

She saw a missed text from August but it could wait. She shot a photo and sent it saying she would call later.

She called the number on the flyer, and spoke to a woman named Astrid, setting a viewing of the house up for tomorrow at lunchtime, and that was set.

She looked around the loft, if they bought a house what would they do with the space? Maybe Killian would want to rent it, extra income would be nice.

She slid on shoes and made her way downstairs, there was no way she could box, so she took a look at the whiteboard.

Billy slid out on the creeper and waved, Killian on the phone in the office. He came out a minute later with a sheet and taped it on the board.

“Hi, you ok,?” He asked.

Emma nodded and looked at the behemoth sitting on the lift. “Ingrids?” She asked and Killian nodded.

“Do you need help? I can order parts if you give me a list” she offered and he smiled.

“I just finished, go lay down,” he said. Emma sighed and nodded.

“Oh, tomorrow at 11, the house tour,” she said and he smiled at her.

She grabbed a book and went to sit on her chair, and grabbed her phone. She looked at couches, she bookmarked a few to show Killian, and when he came up for lunch, she began showing him the couches while he ate.

They agreed on one, and she ordered it. She looked around and decided with Halloween approaching, some decorations were needed. She ordered some and realized her birthday was now weeks away.

She booked that little place in Vermont for the week she had planned on and smiled. She was restless, so she went downstairs again, deciding on a walk. Killian nodded, and she headed out.

She walked the whole town and came across a little hair salon. She walked in, and made an appointment for herself, and headed home. She decided to establish an OB and a new doctor here, and she needed a dentist too. She completed her paperwork to include Killian as her contact first and August second for the first time ever.

When Killian finally headed up, Emma was asleep on the couch, a book laying on the floor. He smiled and snapped a photo, tucked it away, and called in Chinese before he hopped in the shower.

Emma woke up and the buzzer was going off. She looked around disoriented and headed down signing for the food. She popped some of the painkillers the doctor gave her and cleaned the cut.

Killian came out in his sweats and plated dinner up. She told him what she did, and he smiled.

“I’ve never put anyone else as an emergency contact besides August. It’s a big deal, and don’t tell him” she warned and he laughed.

Killian told her about August’s financial game, and she smiled.

“Babe, you don’t have to do that. I have enough if we want the house” she said.

He nodded, “well how about the car. Still a go?” He asked and she nodded. “Have you thought about what you want to do yet?” He asked.

Emma shook her head, “a break. Oh! I got the Vermont house booked for next month too” she said and he smiled nodding as she told him all the little details.

They curled up on the couches, and he decided to bring up those pesky thoughts. “Swan?”

“Hmm”

“Do you want kids someday?” He asked.

Emma’s mouth went dry. Not sure what he was meaning. “Like kids, plural?” She asked.

“Aye,” he said back amused.

“I’ve considered it, if it were the right time, right person…” she said.

She looked up at him, eyes searching his. “Do you?”

Killian nodded at her “Someday I do, very much,” he said.

“Ok,” she said smiling, and he kissed her hair and pictured a tiny blonde girl with blue-green eyes, a pregnant Emma, a family. He was really happy he called Marco.

Killian heard the door buzz and went down to the door. An amazon truck was there and the guy handed him his TV. He thanked him and headed upstairs, and Emma was already in bed.

“What is that?” She asked, her eyes widening at the sight of the box.

“A TV for in here,” he said tilting the box.

Emma laughed, “as if we need another reason to not leave our bed” she giggled. He winked at her and proceeded to unpack the TV, setting it up on the dresser for now, and sat on the edge of the bed setting the remote up. He finally crawled under the covers and Emma was sound asleep.

He smiled, turned on a movie on low, and set the timer. He fell asleep thinking about blonde-haired babies and Emma in a white dress.

@sailtoafarawayland @omgmarvelous

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[mysweetestcreature]

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 2: After You

(Banner by the wonderful @ noblewomankat!)

***

Masterlist

***

Thursday, September 18, 2008

        “Wait, so you’re actually on the team?” Y/n gasps as they navigate through hallway traffic to their lockers. (They ended up being only a few down from one another, something that came as a relief to both since they’ll be the first to admit that they enjoy each other’s company.) “But you’re a freshman! The last time a freshman made the team was in like...like...1987!” She marches straight up to him and swats his arm without a second thought. “Harry! That was seven years before we were born! How are you so calm about this!”

       Harry’s lips form in a smirk as he works his combination into the lock. “So, I take it you’re impressed?”

       “Was it not obvious?” 

       She returns to her own locker, exchanging books between it and her bag while she continues to go on and on about her amazement in short mumbled breaths. When Coach Davis had posted this year’s team roster on the official bulletin board just by the main entrance, everyone had been shocked to see that a freshman had made the lineup. It’s not like she didn’t believe that Harry could do it, but she knows plenty of boys in their grade who had failed to make the high school team, and they were considered the best of the best in middle school! A boy named Jimmy who she’s known since the second grade hadn’t made the team, so he ended up transferring to Ashwood’s number one sports competitor, Pleasant Valley Academy out of spite. “And you’re starting? As quarterback?” 

       “Mhmm,” his response is short and sweet and irksomely chirp, even for her. He shuts his locker and leans against it on his side, one foot tucked under the other, both hands in his pockets as he watches her amusedly. He thinks it’s cute how her nose scrunches up the way it is now. “I mean, it’s a big part of why I’m going here.” Who would give up such an amazing opportunity to attend one of the best schools on the East coast, and for only a fraction of the cost? As it turns out, he’s liking it here a whole lot more than he’d ever imagine. 

       “I’m just amazed, is all. I’m really proud of you though,” her words decrease in volume at the end of her confession. She quickly looks up and shoots him a grin before reapplying some lip gloss in the magnetic mirror. 

       He hates that he can’t look away as the wand strokes over the suppleness of her bottom lip, leaving behind a subtle shine. From where he is, the scent of sweet candied strawberries reaches his nose and causes him to rub his own pair of lips together on impulse. A whole lot of ‘what ifs’ form at the forefront of his mind that would surely leave him embarrassed if he were to ever allow them to spill from his mouth. Although, he soon realizes how creepy it is that he’s still staring at her so intrusively, and so he shakes his head of any further thought. “Um...” he clears his throat. “So, you’ll be watching me from the bleachers then?” 

       “Or who knows, maybe from the sidelines.”

       This has his left brow cocking up in question. “Are you in marching band or something?” 

       “Oh yeah, I play a real mean recorder,” she snorts before closing her locker shut with a push of her hip, then twisting to face him. There’s something in the way her eyes glint as they bore into his, it’s almost unnerving. She takes a few steps forward, and now only a few scanty inches lie between the two. He swears his heart stops beating when she rises on the tips of her toes and leans in even closer. “You’re not the only one full of surprises.” 

       “What’s that supposed to mean?” Now it’s his turn to be left stunned.

       She backs away and starts in the direction of the library with a content smile on her face. “See you in Algebra, Harry.” 

***

       This morning she’d woken up from a reoccurring dream she’d been having over the last couple of weeks, and in it she was on this hilltop that was decorated with most beautiful array of flowers of endless varieties, and a wooden bench with metal railings that sat underneath the shade of a luscious cherry blossom. When she sat up in bed, the image was still so fresh in her mind. It’s like she’s been there before, as every detail had seemed so authentic, tangible even. It’s familiar in a way that no words would be able to describe. 

       “Are you okay?”

       “What?” She nearly jumps out of her skin. Looking up, she sees Maxxie’s worried appearance staring at her straight on. “Oh yeah, I’m just... Here, look at this. I’ve been dreaming about it like every night.” She slides her sketchbook across the table. 

       Maxxie examines it carefully, the pads of his fingers gently running over the drawn lines as his eyes follow their movements. “Have you ever been?”

       She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t think so.” She runs a hand through her hair a few times before letting out a defeated sigh. “I probably just saw it on TV or something.” 

       “If you say so,” Maxxie hums, surely unconvinced. He slides back the book and continues on his own sketch. They relax into a steady rhythm of work, and for so long the calming sounds of pencil against paper soothes the ears as they let their creative vision take control of the actions of their hands.  

       However, it’s only a matter of time before Maxxie speaks up once again. “Can I ask you something?” 

       “Of course,” she chirps, although she keeps her attention on shading in the top side of the tree where she imagines the sun would hit it. “What’s up?”

       The blonde boy’s tongue runs over the surface of his teeth as his eyes narrow in on her. “Well,” he starts, letting his pencil see-saw between his fingers. “I was just wondering...” 

       “Yeah?”

       “What do you think of Harry?”

       This successfully steals her attention away, and she slowly slides back to sit properly in her chair. The mention of his name makes her smile in a different way. “Harry? He’s...well he’s funny and sweet, and I think it’s adorable when...” she trails off when she realizes that she’s probably said too much already. “Wait, why do you ask?” 

       A knowing smirk takes over his once curious expression. “Like I said, I was just wondering.”

       “Oh, no. Don’t you do that, there’s definitely something,” Y/n says in protests. Maxxie sighs, pretending to feel aloofly about the conversation as he lazily leans to the side. “People are allowed to wonder things, you know.” 

       “But no one ever just wonders something unless there’s actually something to wonder about which means you’re obviously not just wondering!”

       “I... huh?” Maxxie’s face creases in such confusion, and he mouths the words over as though trying to make sense of it all. Y/n smiles triumphantly, returning all her energy into finishing her scene. 

***

       “¡Hasta mañana, clase!” Señora Gustavo says as she waves off her Spanish 1 Honors class. 

       Nearly everyone rushes out at once, their hearts set on toughing through their last class before they get to go home for the rest of the evening. Y/n isn’t in much of a rush though, since Dr. Davis has conference about microorganisms in the body somewhere in Denver, and Coach Allen was the only one available to cover her class (and everyone knows that he never takes attendance, instead he opts to playing Tetris on the computer until the dismissal bell rings). 

       “Do you think you’ll be ready for the test next week?” Y/n asks, holding her notebook and Spanish textbook close against her chest. Señora Gustavo scheduled a test on the preterit tense next Tuesday, where they’ll have to write a few paragraphs that show their understanding of how to use it. 

       “I don’t know, the irregular verbs are kind of a pain in the arse,” the dimples in his cheeks caving when he sighs. 

       “Do you maybe want to study together?” 

       “Like after school?” His footsteps cease abruptly in the middle of the hallway, and the person walking behind them grumbles at the unforeseen blockade in his path. “Shit. I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes, but is quick to focus back on her. It’s like his US Politics class doesn’t exist to him at that moment (thank goodness there isn’t any assessment scheduled for the day).

       Y/n suddenly feels hyper aware of where she stands, feeling incredibly small after making the suggestion so capriciously. “...Yeah,” she tries her best to make herself sound nonchalant. But why is this so hard for her? She and Maxxie study together all the time, and she’s never felt intimidated about inviting him over. Ever. With Harry, it’s like she’s always on edge, and it’s becoming more and more exasperating to say the least. She grows even more weary when he takes too long of a pause. “I mean, only if you want to... I just figured we could-”

       “Yes,” he blurts out, his vocal cords stretching greater lengths than would be considered normal, almost like he’d just been hit in the groin with a football. He clears the tickle in his throat and then wets his lips. “That’d be great. Yeah, cool.” A nervous laugh escapes him as his hand moves up and rubs the back of his neck out of sudden discomfort. His mouth opens, and for a second, he hopes something intelligible might come of it. Instead, it hinges closed, and he briskly strides in the direction of his next class, unintentionally leaving her without another word. When he realizes this, the soles of his feet squeak against the well-polished floors as he comes to another hasty stop. Sheepishly, he shuffles back, this time being extra mindful to calculate every next one of his step. “Sorry, that was weird. I don’t know why I... we’re going the same way.” He takes a deep breath to collect himself. “So, uh, tomorrow?” 

       “Tomorrow,” she affirms with a bashful grin. They continue down the hall in a comfortable silence.

*** Friday, September 19, 2008

       When Harry wakes up the next morning, it’s like he’s suddenly some sort of perfectionist, or something pretty damn close. He uses a little more gel in his hair to keep his quiff intact for the rest of the day, he irons his already smoothened polo shirt because he claims he can see some micro wrinkles on its left sleeve. Last night he’d watched over a dozen YouTube videos to see how to tie the perfect knot because sometimes he feels like his tie always looks a bit out of sorts. Finally, he polishes his school shoes over dozen time until he can basically see his reflection staring back at him. 

       “How do I look?” he asks, standing in front of the breakfast table where Anne and Gemma finish up their cups of coffee and scrambled eggs. Both women stare at him blankly, Gemma stopping mid-bite, while Anne keeps her mug suspended below her parted mouth. They look at him and then each other, then back at him as though he were a mad man, and it starts to bug him when minutes go by without a single peep from either. “Well?” 

       “I’m a little confused,” his sister is the first to answer. “Is this a trick question?” Harry groans, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands in mild aggravation. Sure, he wears the same thing practically every day (although, he does like to change up his second layer between his usual cardigan and a pull over, sometimes a sweater vest if he’s feeling up to it), but how can they not notice how crisp his shirt looks? 

       “I’m being serious here!”

       Anne,  is tad more thoughtful with her response. “I think you look very cute, love.” 

       “Cute?” He’s absolutely scandalized! “Cute” is not the end product he wants! He runs to the nearest mirror to view his reflection. Maybe it’s the gel, it probably makes him look like some snotty ten-year-old who loves dressing up whenever he leaves the house. 

       “Dashing! What I meant to say is that you look very dashing!” his mother calls to him, trying her best to correct her mistake. “But sweetheart,” she begins, standing up and putting her used dishes in the sink. “What is this for?”

       And then he asks himself the same thing: what was this all for? After all, they were just going to study for a stupid conjugation test. 

***        “What time’s your date?” 

       “It’s not a date. We’re just studying.”

       “My mistake. What time’s your study date?”

       “I literally just said that it’s not a date!”

       “Then why’re you so pressed?”

       “Because,” Y/n sighs, closing her book. She’s obviously not getting any reading done before homeroom with Maxxie bombarding her with all these trivial questions. She knew she should’ve just kept it to herself, especially after yesterday’s conversation. But she couldn’t help it! He had come over unannounced yesterday with milkshakes from Riley’s Fountain, and one sugar high later, she couldn’t stop herself from recounting every detail of her day. “I don’t know, Max.” 

       “Okay,” he concedes.

       She narrows her gaze at him. “That’s it?” He simply nods his head at her. “No follow-up?”

       “Nope,” he makes sure to put an extra pop on the ‘p’. He sits back in his seat, propping his legs up on the table and crossing his arms behind his head. 

***        After Spanish class, they had agreed to meet at their lockers at exactly 5 o’clock since Harry had football practice and Y/n said she had something to take care of as well. The day had gone just like any other, classes after classes with a few breaks in between and those valuable minutes where they’d talk about silly things on their way to shared subjects and when they’d stand in front of their lockers as they quickly traded books in place of others.

       As he walks out of the locker room, freshly showered –– and in his own clothes, thank god he’d decided to bring a more comfortable pair before leaving home –– and exchanging the ghastly mixture of sweat and sun for a more aromatic vanilla mango cocktail, he notices a vibration coming from underneath his feet. He follows the sound music as it increases in volume to the entrance of the gymnasium, where he then looks through the slim windows before opening the door just a wee bit. 

       He realizes that it’s a cheer practice that’s being held, and it’s also then that he can make sense of the words to the song, and a smile sneaks up to on him when an infamous pop track from the 90s plays over the speakers in the room as they run through their routine. 

       “Okay.” He hears someone shout over the fading outro. It’s the coach, he’ll assume, and she tucks a clipboard under her arm and claps her hands together. “That was good, that was good,” she says in a cheery tone that still manages to sound firm. “So, on that note, let’s call it a day.”

       The group disperses to different areas of the bleachers. He sees Zoey from homeroom, who struts to her bag with such purpose, her hands perched on her swaying hips. She’s followed by two of her friends, Amber and Bree, that always seem to follow her like lost puppies. Matt Riley from his Biology class is also on the team, he’d seen him, and another boy lift one of the girls on top of their shoulders. Harry resumes to scan the gym for anyone else he might know. What he doesn’t expect is to see her scrunchie. His lips pull apart. “Y/n?” he says her name under his breath, his eyes growing wide as she walks towards him (luckily, she hasn’t noticed him) to rummage through her bag. She pulls out a pink water bottle, giggling into the nozzle as one of her friends talks animatedly at her. 

       He backs away from the door, letting it click before he begins pacing on the spot. So, this is what she’d been hinting at yesterday when she said she would be closer than he thought. “A bloody cheerleader.” He runs both hands through his hair, his eyelids tightly pushed together as he lets his system absorb this new –– and vital –– information. “You’re fucked,” he tells himself, even laughing at his own self-pity. “You are so fucking fucked.” 

       “Text me how things go with Jared!” His ears perk up at her honey-like tonation that he’s surely grown to appreciate these last couple of weeks. Y/n has this tendency to go on and on about anything and everything (especially whenever he brings up her baking, she’ll go one for hours) but it’s oddly satisfying just to listen to her talk so vibrantly about life. HE starts to panic when her voice gets closer. “Oh, stop it! I’m sure it’ll go fine!” 

***

       “I don’t know if it’ll go anywhere,” Cici says jadedly as they push through the doors in to the deserted corridor. “He’s cute, and he thinks I’m cute, but that’s about it.” She reaches back and begins to fuss with her raven-black hair, running her fingers through each of stubborn knots. 

       Y/n bumps her hip with hers before linking their arms together and skipping down the rest of the way. “You’ve been talking nonstop for the last six weeks! That’s like a record for you! Just see how it goes, and if it’s really that bad, you can always do that thing in the movies where she sneaks out the bathroom window.” Cici rolls her eyes at the suggestion. “Oh, come on! You can’t say the idea doesn’t sound exciting,” Y/n giggles as she pokes her side. 

       “You and Maxxie watch way too many romcoms, seriously. It’s like I’m friends with freaking Julia Roberts.” She’s known Cici since they were in diapers as their parents had been friends in their youth. It was only right that their girls become best friends. In many ways, they’re opposites of each other, Cici being the rougher and tougher of the two, especially when it comes to people she doesn’t trust a hundred percent (many people in their grade are a tad bit afraid of her, but she prefers it that way), while Y/n tends to be more empathetic and softer around the edges (for the most part, that is) that makes her more approachable.

       “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Y/n sticks her tongue out. 

       “Speaking of Maxwell,” Cici begins, and her lips quick to the side suggestively, “he tells me you have a date with the new boy.” 

       Y/n scoffs, shaking her head. “And I told him repeatedly that it’s not a date.”

       “Do you want it to be?” 

       “To be what?”

       “A date, duh!” Cici all but screams. 

       “I’ve only known him for two weeks!” How many times does she have to explain that what her and Harry and going to do is strictly educational and as friends/classmates? Sure, he’s good looking and has eyes so mesmerizing that she finds herself getting lost in them and... oh shoot. And she’s sure by the way Cici gives her the same shrewd look that Maxxie had given her earlier, that she knows exactly what’s running through her head. “Shut up.” No one better tell Maxxie, or else he’ll never let her live it down!

       “Listen, all I’m saying is that if you like him, you better make a move before someone beats you to it,” Cici warns. “I heard that Zoey has a major thing for him.” 

       Y/n tries her best to hide a pout. She and Zoey used to be friends once upon a time, but as they excelled through school and life, Zoey started to get overly competitive with her. If Y/n showed up to school with new school shoes, Zoey would have a pair twice as expensive the next day. If Y/n got the highest test score in math, Zoey would try to beat her on the next two. It’s petty, Y/n will be the first to admit it, which is why she usually tries to ignore things like that now.  

       “I mean, she is really pretty.” 

       “Too bad she’s a total bitch. Besides, you’re way prettier, babe,” Cici winks. “Anyway, I have to go get ready for later.” And she starts towards the exit, walking backwards. “If I call you in the middle of dinner, it means I’ve just climbed out the bathroom window and you need to pick me up immediately.” 

       Y/n sniggers at her words. “I look forward to it.” 

       They officially part ways, and soon enough Y/n turns the corner and arrives at her locker to find Harry standing against it. The bottom of his shoe is flat up against the metal, and his hands are shoved in the pockets of his jeans. She cocks her head to the side when she takes note of his heaving chest. “Why are you so out of breath?”

***

       When Y/n and Harry arrive at her house, she leads him into the kitchen to offer him a snack. “I woke up really early this morning, so I made a bunch of treats!” she exclaims. Harry watches as she prepares everything on the table. Her house is just as he had expected, it’s ambiance warm and welcoming, the same vibe he always gets when he’s near her. It smells distinctly of warm sugar, and he guesses it’s because she’s constantly whipping up sweets and other goodies. 

       As she gets things ready, he wanders into the connecting living room. The first thing that catches his eye is the 1963 Hofner 500/1 “Violin” bass in the corner of the room. He’s more of a guitar kind of guy, but he’s always appreciated a catchy bass line. “Do you play?” he asks, looking back into the kitchen.

       “It’s my grandpa’s, actually. He was a huge McCartney fan, and so this was his little homage to him.” She walks over and slowing extends her hand and grazes her fingers along the neck. It’s then he sees the falter in her expression. “We had to put him in a home since he’s having some trouble remembering things now,” she confesses. “But when we bring this old guy along, it’s like he never left. It’s like he’s the same guy that used to hum Yesterday to put me to sleep.” 

       Harry is quiet as he absorbs it all in. He can’t imagine what it must be like, especially since he also has a close bond with his grandfather.  

       He frowns when he catches her wiping beneath her eye. “Hey,” he says softly, and he gently wraps his fingers around her wrist to bring her hand away from her face. 

       “I’m sorry,” she shakes her head and tries her best to laugh it off. “I always get a little weird when I talk about Pop-pop.” 

       “’s fine,” he assures her. “You’re allowed to feel.” About a year ago, his granddad had suffered a stroke. He’d been alone since his grandma had been out at the grocer’s. It was a good thing a neighbor had heard the ruckus of his fall and immediately brought him to the hospital. So, he knows what it’s like to worry oneself constantly. 

       The next thing he does shocks them both. He breathes in deeply before he lifts his hand close to her cheek, moving a loose piece of hair behind her ear. When she peers up, she’s nearly paralyzed as his beautiful green eyes stare deeply into hers. She bites hard on her bottom lip, her heart hammering beneath her chest. 

       “I-” but words are a loss to her in that moment. He searches her, looking for any sign to tell him to stop. There’s nothing. And for once, the quietness relieves him. Feeling a rush of confidence flow through his veins, he slowly lowers himself. The closer he gets, the more he can feel each puff of her breath tickle the small hairs on chin. 

       Her eyes flutter closed as she anticipates his lips. 

       “Y/n!” a little voice squeals, and it’s followed by a tiny pitter patter of feet. Both Harry and Y/n snap their heads at the sound, and she’s quick to push him away. A space to accommodate at least four people now falls between them.  

       “Hey, buddy!” She picks up Mason and spins him around in her arms. “How was school? Did you share those cookies with Madison?”

       “Yeah!” he says proudly, wrapping his arms around her neck. “I’m a good sharer!” Mason wriggles his legs, begging to be put down. When he notices Harry –– who is still quite flustered –– he cautiously backs into Y/n’s legs until he’s hidden behind her left one. “Who’re you?” the little boy challenges, lip protruding into a small pout as he clings to his sister’s leg tightly. (He usually doesn’t do well with strangers. Heck, last Christmas he cried when he saw Santa at the mall.)

       Harry bites his tongue, glancing at Y/n. She nods down at the little boy with an encouraging smile. If someone would’ve told him even an hour ago that he’d be –– somewhat –– terrified of such a tiny human, he would’ve sniggered and walked away. Yet here is, about to get on his knees for a six-year-old. And he ends up doing just that. He bends down to Mason’s height. “Hey there, little dude. I’m Harry.” 

       Mason eyes him skeptically,  slightly treading away from his sister’s protection. “Do you like cupcakes?” 

       “Cupcakes?” Harry playfully repeats, he pretends to be surprised by such a question. “I love cupcakes!”

       Mason giggles loudly and tackles Harry in a big hug. “I like you, Harry!” Mason tells him. He grabs his hand and leads him back into the kitchen. “Come on, Harry! Y/n made Neapolitan cupcakes! They’re my favoritest ever!” Her little brother sits Harry down in one of the chairs and grabs a cupcake from the dish. “We can go halfsies if you want!” he offers. 

       That leaves Y/n alone in front of the bass guitar. She glances out into the kitchen, where her little brother has managed to say everything what she could never muster up. What had happened, or almost happened –– that had been enough to send tingles to cover every inch of her frazzled skin still lingers on her, and she touches her cheek where his hand had once been. 

***

[noahfence1d]

Queer people who took time coming to terms with our identities know the dance of avoiding definitive terms and labels. We know what it can look like when someone is a baby queer in waiting; we certainly understand what it’s like trying to figure out how to exist both authentically and safely in the world, calculating the risks of being your true self, and why that waiting period exists—and, for some, never really ends. This process of coming to terms and coming out, however, poses different challenges and has specific implications when you’re a celebrity. Some celebrities—especially those with teen fanbases, like Shawn Mendes or Taylor Swift—are no strangers to being pinned as queer icons because of their presentation, language, or even the friendships they have, despite not being out as queer. However, figures like Mendes or Swift are known for vehemently pushing away from any narrative defining them explicitly queer. Other celebrities, like Harry Styles, have strongly leaned into queerness—or at the very least, embraced being coded as queer.

Look up “Harry Styles queer” on Google and you’ll get a range of headlines from “We need to talk about why Harry Styles is a lesbian icon” to “Harry Style’s New Music Video is Extremely Bisexual.” Styles often dons floral suits and a more stereotypically feminine demeanor alongside lyrics like ones from his song “Medicine,” which are unmistakably bisexual: “The boys and the girls are here/ I mess around with him/ And I’m okay with it.” Recently, Styles announced a tour with artists similarly dubbed queer icons, Jenny Lewis and King Princess, a musical setup that seems like it was made in heaven for queer fans. On his new Saturday Night Live appearance, Styles played a sexually ambiguous character in the Sara Lee sketch, referencing being thirsty for men, almost locking in his “brand” of queerness yet again. In October 2019, Styles’s single “Lights Up” was also deemed a bisexual anthem by certain members of the queer community, especially as the corresponding music video shows a nearly naked Styles surrounded by people of all genders who are touching and carressing his body.

In a 2019 interview with Rolling Stone, he explained why he often dons rainbow flags on stage at his concerts and why he’s been so vocal about supporting queer people. “Everyone in that room is on the same page and everyone knows what I stand for. I’m not saying I understand how it feels. I’m just trying to say, ‘I see you.’” At this point, Styles isn’t new to curiosity surrounding his sexuality. Throughout his time with One Direction, rumors about his sexuality swirled, as he had a close relationship with bandmate Louis Tomlinson. The relationship became a hot topic, and one hugely obsessed over in fan and fanfiction communities. In a 2017 interview with The Sun, while discussing the way that celebrity sexuality is constantly questioned, he said, “It’s weird for me—everyone should just be who they want to be. It’s tough to justify somebody having to answer to someone else about stuff like that … I don’t feel like it’s something I’ve ever felt like I have to explain about myself.” At his final show for his tour in Glasgow in 2018, Styles announced onstage, “We’re all a little bit gay.”

For much of his career, it’s almost seemed like his fanbase is rooting for his queerness. One reason that online communities seem to be so obsessed with queer-adjacent celebrities like Styles is that they normalize queerness, making it feel more accessible. “If they were to come out, it would be a huge benefit to LGBTQ visibility in the media, and a lot of people in the LGBTQ community would love to have a celebrity of that stature on ‘their’ side,” Ash, a bisexual woman, told me. But Styles doesn’t actually claim queerness just because many fans, queer and otherwise, have hoped that he’ll one day do so explicitly. “Can straight people be queer?” asked a 2016 Vice article about the impact of the term’s increasingly broad application. The fact is that cis, straight people can’t be queer—so what does that mean when queer communities tout artists like Styles or Swift as part of our culture?

At some points in history, having these kinds of allies for the community who are not queer themselves, like Lil’ Kim, who has advocated for gay men and against homophobia in the rap community since the early 2000s, has been monumental. Queer audiences of yesteryears also gravitated toward performers like Dolly Parton who didn’t have to be queer themselves because they were accepting and loving toward all, and used their platform to normalize and uplift the queer communities that have celebrated them. In this day and age, however, expectations of performers have heightened. Unlike other celebrities dubbed “queer icons” who happen to be straight, including Madonna, Janet Jackson, or Parton, the fanbases of artists like Styles’s skew younger. And younger audiences don’t just want performers who see and welcome them. They want performers who are them—artists who understand the queer experience because they are queer, and they’re here to reflect audiences back to themselves.

So why the critique if there are seemingly so many positives to any representation or acceptance? It’s not that Styles, or any celebrity or public figure for that matter, owes us any information about their sexualities. On one hand, simply by existing in such a public manner, these celebrities offer a sliver of hope that there might be someone just like us navigating the world of queerness and identity. Celebrities like Styles or Swift—who has made use of queer aesthetics herself, and whose friendship with model Karlie Kloss has been the subject of rumors—remind us of who we were when we navigated our queerness more subtly before we were ready to explicitly tell someone close to us, or our resident queer community. Entertainers like Jackson or Parton became queer icons because they embraced queer fans during a closeted time, and perhaps it felt okay to have acceptance without representation. It was clear the performers weren’t trying to be queer. On the other hand, with Styles or Swift, the lines are blurred, and it’s unclear whether they’re trying to say they’re one of us or merely accept queer fans while borrowing from the culture to fit in and create a brand.

“I think it’s important for white queer folks to interrogate the whiteness of their queer idols, and work to understand why they feel more inclined to celebrate the visible queerness of one artist over another.”

There’s often a concern that celebrities are co-opting queerness as a marketing ploy. With the long history of queerbaiting (using the possibility of or undertones of queerness to gain favorability with queer people) in popular culture, there’s a certain level of disingenuousness to letting the bait and switch go on with minimal critique. The kind of support and lauding that celebrities like Styles receive for more playful expression and experimentation is not always present for queer people of color like Syd (formerly of The Internet), Alok Vaid-Menon, or Big Freedia. When she sees mostly white, thin, able-bodied figures with “queer energy” centered as icons in the queer community as opposed to queer people of color, Olivia Zayas Ryan, a queer woman, wonders why. “If you’re showing up for a pretty white boy in a tutu, where are you when Black and brown queer folks are vilified, ridiculed, and worse?” she told me. “If you are excited and feel seen when queer aesthetics are in the mainstream, what are you doing to honor, protect, and recognize the folks who created them? I think it’s important for white queer folks to interrogate the whiteness of their queer idols, and work to understand why they feel more inclined to celebrate the visible queerness of one artist over another.”

Conversation around both queerbaiting and our curiosity about celebrity queerness is an ongoing and complicated one. For example, there are theorists who have posited that Kurt Cobain was a closeted trans woman. “Many transgender women see themselves in his shaggy hair, his penchant for nail polish and dresses, and his struggles with depression,” Gillian Branstetter, a transgender advocate and writer, told me. Cobain’s fascination with pregnancy (“In Utero”) and his distaste for masculinity (“In Bloom”), as well as his partner Courtney Love’s references to having a more fluid lover (“He had ribbons in his hair/ And lipstick was everywhere/ You look good in my dress”) stoked this interest in his sexuality and presentation. “It sounds very familiar to trans women whose own relationship with masculinity and femininity was often expressed in coded ways before they came out,” says Branstetter. Styles, who like Cobain shows disinterest in conforming to a traditionally masculine rock-star presentation, seems to spark the same interest in fans from the queer community.

With our investment in Styles or other celebrities who are likely straight but exude “queer energy,” it feels as if we’re looking for a mirror of ourselves, seeking to claim the most popular public figures as our own, and in turn feel more normal and accepted. Perhaps our obsession with artists like Styles comes down to the excitement of feeling visible—but what do fans of potentially straight queer icons like Styles actually want? Can we thread the needle between feeling seen and normalized in our queerness while also feeling the imbalance between Styles’s privilege and the most marginalized people in the queer community’s lived experiences? Ultimately, it’s queer fans who get to decide if Styles’s kind of allyship and solidarity with the queer community is enough, or if it’s begun to give off the all-too-familiar stink of disingenuous baiting.

[alarriefantasy]

                                 Alpha Harry/Omega Louis

keep me safe, keep me sane, keep me honest by @hilourry 

Words: 8k

Louis is the Prince of England. All past omega princes and princesses have been married and pregnant at age 18, so his parents arrange him to be married to Harry Styles, the royal family's PR guy.

Ten Million Ways To Love Somebody by slashter 

Words: 8k

Or the one where Louis and Omega!Louis switch places and there's basically a lot of confusion and feelings and sex

Oranges, Whipped Cream and Blueberries by Jennifer_Kaid

Words: 9k

Louis was an omega of a pure bloodline. He had known since he was merely eight years old that he was to be bonded with a high ranked alpha. Not the one of his choice, but the one deemed suitable for him by the elders.

Little did he know that the alpha would be the leader of his pack; the greatest pack known to their kind.

I will cover my eyes (for if the dark returns) by sweetkisses

Words: 9k

Alpha Harry asks omega Louis out and things progress from there.

 infinitely all for me by swallowsmateforlife

Words: 10k

The Alpha Louis' been betrothed to since he was 14 has finally come of age and Louis' been delivered to his home.

or: the one where they figure it all out.

There Is No Fear Now, Let Go And Just Be Free by @hilourry 

Words: 11k

Louis is an omega and dates Harry, who they think is a beta, but he turns out to be an alpha. They accidentally soul bond and Louis ends up pregnant.

I'll Make This Feel Like Home by 5ft9

Words: 12k

Harry can't sleep because the cat next door won't stop meowing. He goes over to confront its owner, things go surprisingly well, and the cat ends up being the cutest thing that he's ever seen. Well, besides its omega owner.

A love story quickly blossoms.

Do You Like My Sweater? by @icanhazzalou 

Words: 13k

When Harry's alpha fraternity decides to host a Sadie Hawkins dance, outspoken omega Louis has a thing or two to say about it.

I Didn't Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) by allwaswell16 

Words: 15k

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course.

Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him brin

Run with Foxes, Hunt with Wolves by 69louis

Words: 19k

Louis and his pack of mostly females are left shaken after they lose their alpha, and soon after males from far and wide travel to their territory to compete for the right to take his place. Louis is thrown into turmoil, fearful of losing another one of his pack mates, and untrusting of the lone males who seem to be growing in numbers everyday, but when a strong stranger steps forward to not only fight to be alpha, but to fight for Louis can he keep his head above water long enough to reach the next full moon?

I Wanna Be More Than Friends by 2tiedships2

Words: 20k

Or the one where Harry’s an alpha with no sense of smell, Louis’ an omega who isn’t allowed to scent his best friend, and that’s all they’ll ever be. Obviously.

The Tale of Two Kingdoms by @larriebane

Words: 24k

Prince Louis of Doncaster finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time as the feared Hijackers from Cheshire come to claim their annual pray of omegas. He is taken away and transported to a strange country that Louis has been taught as the enemies’ land. When unforeseen events take place and even more unlikely savior turns up, Louis’ all previous beliefs are being proved wrong. Will love save the two kingdoms and form an alliance after several centuries of feuds between these bordering countries?

Like A Siren In The Night by whoknows

Words: 24k

“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.

Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”

For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.

It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.

Falling into your gravity by @larriebane 

Words: 28k

The Doncaster tribe has suffered from the increasing attacks of the rogue werewolves for months now and finally their pleas have been answered. The Government has sent them enforcements in the form of a family of high standing, the Styles, whose babelicious son turns a certain omega’s world upside down. Poor Louis is just trying to get people believe he’s a beta as his family’s life depends on it.

If I don't have you (there'll be nothing left) by SadaVeniren

Words: 28k

AKA Louis thought after meeting Harry at a party everything would fall into place. If only life worked out that nicely.

Introduction to Dynamics by juliusschmidt

Words: 29k

Louis Tomlinson is the outspoken omega in the 'Introduction to Dynamics' course Harry wishes he didn't have to take. He's nearly certain to present as a beta, after all. Things will be simple for him.

heart born out of fire by bloody_blade0

Words: 31k

au where louis is a sad, sad omega in hiding who hides from everyone and trusts no one.

Like Candy In My Veins by @littlelouishiccups 

Words: 31k

Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for

Kiss me on the Mouth and Set me Free by seducedbycurls

Words: 41k

Harry is the CEO of Flora Corp, Louis is his new secretary.

The Flatmates by Centa0592

Words: 47k

Or the story where five lads all respond to the same ad about an available flat and move in.

I'm On the Hunt Now (I'm After You) by @afangirlfantasy 

Words: 56k

Omegas haven’t been able to shift into their wolves for two hundred years. That is, until Louis Tomlinson changes everything.

Or...an AU where Alpha Harry and Omega Louis have a lot more than falling in love to deal with after The Mating Ceremony.

Promise me by Mandriice

Words: 57k

They were promised to one another when Harry was almost four years old and Louis decided he would be born on Christmas Eve. Anne grabbed young Harry and hurried to the hospital – that was their first meeting. The next meeting would only be 14 years later.

A story about a promised love that has always existed and will last forever.

Affairs of Royalty by @wubwubnparmaham

Words: 68k

Being a senior in high school is hard enough.

Being one of the only two Omegas in a fully human high school is even worse.

Add two secretly royal Alphas from England into the mix...and it's impossible.

Strawberries & Cigarettes by dimpled_halo

Words: 74k

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

Into the wild by Deidei

Words: 76k

Louis Tomlinson, a mischievous and adventurous Omega ends up stranded onto an unknown and mysterious island, after a shipwreck, where he'll be forced to learn to survive as a wild wolf. Here he'll meet an Alpha that sparks an interest in him that no Alpha ever could. Not used to the new surroundings, the new social and cultural norms and the wolves will he be able to live in the wild?

i want you so much (but i hate your guts) by @obviouslybecauselarry 

Words: 83k

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

Where You Lay by HamPalpert 

Words: 86k

When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.

The Wolves Den by @alltheloulongday 

Words: 87k

Louis is the first born Omega in centuries and he doesn’t know this, an important fact. Johanna, Louis mother keeps him ignorant to his status in the wolf world and makes him believe that he’s a regular wolf. She’s scared of the Alphas that may rape and mate her son for the power he possess. She finds it hard to accept herself and her son into a pack but when he’s fed up with moving she settles down. They found themselves in the lovely state of Michigan with one of the most respected packs in the world.

There’s no way to tell that Louis is an Omega unless you were his mother, father, or an Alpha. Harry notices Louis before he’s even met him, smells him in the hallway, in the classrooms, on the seats. Harry doesn't know what the smell is. He just knows that it’s delicious and makes him weak in the knees. He needs to find the source of the smell before he goes crazy, but the way he finds the tiny Omega may make Harry crazy with anger.

bite me by happilylarry

Words: 93k

No Summary

Swim In The Smoke by @crazyupsetter

Words: 101k

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

Only You Can Be My Alpha by @wubwubnparmaham 

Words: 194k

OR the one where Louis is banished from his tribe, and lands himself in Harry's instead. The alluring Pack Alpha makes Louis question his nature and he doesn't know how he feels about that. But you can't fight destiny.

Cold Little Heart by seducedbycurls

Words: 194k

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham Louis really could use the help.

pray for some sweet simplicity by @emperorstyles 

Words: 237k

Or, an AU where motorcycle racing is the biggest sport in a heavily divided world, Louis is trying to take control of his own destiny, and Harry is in for more than he bargained for. 

♡ credit to the owner of the manip

♡ past themed recs here

♡ updated 3.21.20

[kfawkes]

Forget Me Not (Part 2) - [Eggsy Unwin x Reader]

[HELLO AGAIN! This is part 2 of Forget Me Not :D Part 3 will be out tomorrow :) Hope you enjoy!!! <3 @zestygingergirl requested a tag, so here you go, love! :3

Paring: Eggsy x Reader (and also lots go Harry Hart because I LOVE HIM!!!

Words: 2K oops!! :)

Warnings: Cursing, duh.

[Part 1]

When the door closed your eyes lingered on it far longer than they should have… the moments before were spent tracing along the lines of the broad shoulders that slunk out heavily with defeat, and you couldn’t help but feel responsible for their weight.

You didn’t know him, but he sure looked at you like you did… so who was he? Eggy, or something the man had called him, right? You’d have to ask. Have to apologize for offending him, too— for hurting his feelings, or whatever it was you did to chase him off.

Okay, maybe you did know why he’d run off, but why would asking him who he was upset him so much? Unless he thought you were someone else…

Were you?

When you couldn’t figure it out you rubbed your forehead, releasing the breath you’d apparently been holding. Today was sure turning out to be one massive fucking headache, but even with that dull throbbing between your temples growing with each second, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you HAD seen him before.

It was so faint, just like a dream… but it was there. Maybe if you focused really hard you could…

“My name is Harry Hart.” the man said with a soft smile breaking your concentration. To be fair though, you really hadn’t made any progress, and when you looked to him the previous sadness behind his gaze was erased almost completely.

His new face was happier in a way, but not so convincing that you believed it. For some reason you knew better. He stepped forward offering a friendly hand to you. He was wearing a light gray suit, and looked just as posh as the other one.

You took his hand after a second with a shallow nod and an even shallower smile; but your grip was firm and your eye contact unwavering. “Y/n.” you replied even though both men had clearly already known it. You wondered if maybe Ginger told them… but somehow knew that wouldn’t be it.

“If you’ll excuse my partner, Eggsy— he’s had a rather long day, or I suppose… a very long few months.” Harry stepped closer, his eyes scanning the walls of your room.

“W-what happened to him?” you asked curiously, crossing your arms and shifting your gaze to the mirror. You couldn’t see a thing besides your own reflection and the room staring back at you, but you knew somehow that he was on the other side of it. You also knew your question was downright nosey… that he’d likely heard you ask it too — but you suddenly needed to know more about him, and you really didn’t care who was watching.

“He lost someone close to him. Someone he loved very dearly.” Harry smiled thoughtfully, softer this time and you could tell by his voice that he cared for the man a great deal.

The initial feeling you got at that was soft and warm, and made you instantly happier. You were just so damn glad that he had someone.

But… why?

You slid your eyes from the mirror and back to this Harry Hart, shoving that biting thought of familiarity away because you weren't sure you liked how it felt. When you looked back to him his posture was straight and professional, yet his eyes were full of that same familiarity you felt. Only he did a better job at keeping it hidden behind that mask of polished skill he wore so well.

You bit your lip anxiously, pulling your arms closer to your bust as a frown spread. “I didn’t mean to upset him… I just— he sorta freaked me out.”

“Having two men you’ve never seen before entering your room and coming towards you out of nowhere? Yes, I think that is grounds for being a bit ‘freaked out’.” he replied kindly, and from what you could tell— honestly.

The smile you released came more naturally now as you glanced back to the mirror. You pulled a fist to your tired eyes, rubbing them as you sat heavily to your bed. You watched Harry’s reflection carefully as he stroll the outskirts of your room, admiring the books lining the walls, lingering longer on the sketches you hadn’t touched in ages at your desk. He was taking everything in carefully... like he was studying you, and your surroundings but for some reason it didn’t seem to bother you.

For some reason all you could do was think about that Eggy— no, Eggsy, and the face he made before leaving your room. You pulled your fingers to your lip, pressing one between your teeth as you fixated on that delicate curve of his frown, and the bright shade of his eyes... Then suddenly there was nothing you needed more than answers, and you needed them right fucking now.

“I realize my saying this risks you running out of here too. But, why exactly are you here?” you asked finally looking to the man parading your space like you were a science experiment.

Harry smiled again, with a certain affection behind his eyes as he pushed his hands into his pockets. “Unfortunately Y/n, we don't exactly know. I can tell by your face that that is not the answer you wanted... but sadly, that is the only one I have for you. But I can assure you that once we do know, we will tell you." he paused to smile softly before continuing. "Would it be alright with you if my partner and I were to came back at a later time?”

You nodded a silent reply of acceptance, as your brows lifted slightly. You somehow knew he was being honest, but you weren’t any closer to an answer and that didn’t sit very well in your stomach or your face apparently. But he was right, and it would have to do because with that he smiled then made his way out of the room with an accepting nod of his own.

You didn’t see where he was going, as you never did when anyone left— and it wasn’t until this moment that you realized you never thought to ask why.

Whatever the reason you’d been perfectly content in spending your time here under lock and key. You hadn’t even questioned it, actually... but now that you’d met these men things just felt wrong. If only you could figure out why...

When Harry reached the adjacent room again, Eggsy was staring at you through the mirror. He had one arm spread across his chest, the other hand resting timidly over his chin and mouth. He wore the most stern set of eyes Harry had ever seen, and he really didn't like it.

Eggsy meant a great deal to Harry, and seeing how he’d been the last year pained him more than he wanted to admit. He couldn’t even imagine what he was going through, because Harry himself had never been in love. Not the way Eggsy loved you... no that was something else. Something no one in the entire world had, and it was beautiful.

It was completely shit because Harry was Kingsman’s finest but he hadn’t the slightest idea how to help one of his closest friends in their time of need. He didn't know how to promise there would be a better world for him later, because Harry had been doing this a long time... and he wasn't sure it was even true. He may have believed in that world once upon a time, but every day it seemed a little further away.

But he had to try, didn't he? Just because he was being a cynical old man didn't mean Eggsy had to be one too. No, what Eggsy needed was hope.

“I’m not sure what’s going on with Y/n, Eggsy… but we will figure it out. Perhaps Merlin will know something more useful.” Harry smiled warmly with hope ringing off his voice as he step closer.

Eggsy didn’t look to him though, or respond in the slightest. No, his eyes were glued to you. Watching you carefully while you sat there staring right back at him, with that same face you wore when you were trying to remember a word, or the name of a song. And they both knew you weren’t really looking back at him, but no one needed to say that.

Harry joined Eggsy at the mirror after a moment, drawing in a slow breath before he attempted any form of consolation. “I can’t imagine what this must be like for you.”

“T’be perfectly honest with ya, Harry… ain’t sure what I’m feeling no more.” a long sigh slipped as his frown sunk deeper than before. Those dark burdened eyes seemed heavier now as he watch you bite at your nail completely lost in thought. "Feels bloody pointless tho, don't it? Come all this way, an for what? Buch of fuckin' agents named after booze that don't know shit, an someone that looks like my Y/n, but ain't. We're completely fucked... I'm completely fucked."

Harry lifted a heavy hand to his back, offering what he hoped was a soft comforting rub. He wasn’t the best with words—never had been, but he hoped that Eggsy would understand what he was trying to say. He hoped it would be enough to at least let him know that he wasn’t alone in all of this, even if he felt like it. “I know this isn't what we expected. In fact it's quite literally a mess— but Y/n is alive, Eggsy. You can’t give up now.”

“What if I already did that...” his lips trembled lightly as his voice broke in defeat. This was a new low for Eggsy, and for someone that hit rock bottom long ago, this was a new level of calamity. “What if it’s jus too late?”

“It’s never too late, Eggsy. You of all people should know that.”

“Y/n don’t know me, Harry.” Eggsy finally pulled his gaze from you, sending an unbelieving one Harry’s way instead. It was screaming so loudly… and it was so full of pain. It rang in disappointment and dripped with failure. “What d’you expect me t’do?”

Harry pulled in a deep breath, glancing around the room you sat as he scan his mind for the right words. But did he even have them— would he ever have them? Harry wasn’t sure but he had to try because he could see Eggsy slipping further and further away with each passing second. "I expect you to take this for the blessing that it is. You've been given a very rare opportunity here, Eggsy. Don't fuck it up by thinking it's already passed you by. Because if you aren't careful, it will."

Eggsy didn't say anything back to that, he just scoffed slightly but not in retaliation as he pulled his eyes back to where you stood in the corner.

“There are drawings of you in there… I saw them on the desk.” he paused momentarily to gage Eggsy’s reaction before continuing. “Y/n might not remember what you had, might not remember you, or the way things were before—but s/he hasn’t forgotten you. At least not entirely... Y/n's not lost, Eggsy. Not unless you decide to stop looking.”

Eggsy pressed a deep breath through his nose, the apprehension leaving his furrowed expression in cool waves as his eyes softened more. You were standing in the corner still, holding fists full of paper just switching their order in near rapid succession… You looked so damn beautiful, and all he could think about was having the chance to kiss you again… the chance to hold you in his arms again. To tell you how much he loved you, and that he’d never let you go again.

He smiled finally after what seemed like an eternity; swallowing the lump of regret he held at his throat because maybe… just maybe he would.

--Part 3

[dannyphantomrpg]

Visual Aid: 10 Years Later, Part 1

So here’s a thing I did tonight. Instead of, you know, polishing Jack’s faceplate to post this week or starting on Maddie‘s (or, I dunno, working on one of my backlog of fics lol) I decided to make a visual aide of...

Butch Hartman’s 10 Years Later video!

Yay...?

I did this mostly for personal reference sidequests FTW. Since I don’t watch online videos too often, I always find it easier to have a still-picture guide. And, you know, I don’t have to keep giving Butch YT views now~

So, enjoy everyone!

Hey guys, it's me, Butch Hartman. How you doing? Thanks for watching my channel this week.

This week, I'll be drawing the Danny Phantom characters as if it were ten years older. Check it out.

Tucker: That's the cool thing about your powers, man, there's no downside. Give me five! *blasted into booth* I'm ok!

(Ignore the Pause display - I forgot to hide it for this image) First, we'll start off by drawing everyone's favorite tech nerd, Tucker Foley. It was funny when I was first creating Tucker, it was back in the days when the movie Rush Hour was out. Chris Tucker was a star of Rush Hour, so ok, that Tucker could be his first name. I always loved Eddie Murphy in the Beverly Hills Cop movies and his name was Axel Foley. So we took Axel Foley's last name and combined it with Chris Tucker, so that's where Tucker Foley came from.

Now, it's time to update him a little bit. Start off by giving him a bit of an updated hairstyle, updated glasses, and even an updated hat. Maybe more of a Rastafarian hat kind of thing, dreads that stick out of his hat and a little soul patch of hair under his lip there. Of course the hoodie and of course he'd got a much more updated phone. I add a presidential pin because he was the mayor of Amity Park at the end of Phantom Planet so I figure, hey, maybe he's running for president - maybe he works for the president. You know, another route for the character of Tucker I was thinking as I was drawing all these, I think he'd be a modern-day Steve Jobs. I think he's so smart and it meant so many things, I think Tucker is a huge part of either the Apple Corporation or of - or the Foley Corporation.

Now, I thought I'd start off with giving Tucker some tech this time, if Tucker's going to help Danny fight ghosts. He's going to have a drone cause he's gonna want to fly like Danny. Instead of giving him glasses, I gave him some goggles that are going to be kind of high-tech he could see like targeting devices inside the goggles that help him control the drone with his own eyes maybe. But this new design of Tucker I've completely changed his clothing colors you can see. I did incorporate the old colors from the old Tucker into his hat: the green pants, the yellow shirt, and the red cap are all incorporated into this new Rasta hat. Old Tucker enthusiasts, there are the colors for old Tucker right in there.

Sam: Goth haiku. Despair without end. *whisper* There's a ghost. *shouting* Utter blackness, nothingness. *whisper* There's a ghost. *shouting* Dora is a ghost.

The character of Sam was tricky because we wanted a girl on the show and we wanted - we almost, at the very beginning, I thought I wanted to give her a psychic power. We were gonna go in with a psychic power where she could, like, mentally talk to Danny all the time but I'm not a big fan of psychic so we got rid of that idea really quick. We decided to make her goth-y because back when Danny Phantom was created, Goths were very big. They were - they were all over the place. They were sort of the hipster of the early 2000s. They don't take everything for face value, and then Sam would be someone who would actually believe in these ghosts that Danny was fighting so we thought that'd be kind of a cool aspect of her character.

Same thing with Tucker, I'm going to just do a few experimental drawings of Same here. I'm going to age her up ten years and see how that feels. I've never drawn her ten years older so let's see what happens. So this version here of Sam, I thought Sam is sort of Danny's sidekick. A lot of the movies that have come out lately - out of the comic book-based movies lately that have come out, you know, one of my favorites is Captain America: Winter Soldier. I love The Avengers movies, and I thought it'd be pretty cool if Danny Phantom was basically Captain America, Sam would probably be Black Widow. So I decided to give Sam kind of a uniform, like a Black Widow crime fighter outfit where she helped Danny fight ghosts with her arsenal of awesome guns and machinery. By this time, Danny and Sam and Tucker have been fighting ghosts about ten years so they really know what they're doing by this point.

We're going to try another version of Sam and we're going to try and update her into a more hipsterfied because, again, her clothes, just like Tucker’s, are more early-2000s, kind of 1990s but this sort of Sam, just kind of - I guess, a regular everyday life ten years older. Put her top knot coming through her hat. I do like this version, but I prefer the superhero one a little more.

And for this version of Sam, I was just having fun and goofing around, still experimenting. I decided to keep old Sam, age her up a little bit, and add a jacket.

This Sam looks outright horrifying. Seriously. That face will be in my nightmares

Now, I thought I'd really go to town and kind of give her the full-fledged superhero thing and giver her some ghost fighting armor. And just really see what she would look like if she took it really, really seriously and became kind of a Lara Croft sort of a ghost fighting gal.

Now here is Sam - it's kind of a mix of a bunch of versions of Sam. It's kind of the Lara Croft meets the Black Widow meets Sam ten years later, and I was just having so much fun I decided to really do an iPad sketch here on the iPad pro. I use the Procreate program which replays your drawings back. She's got weaponry, she's got Maddie Fentons's goggles on her head. I tooks Sam's original colors and I just kind of switched them around a bit. I added her, like, Matrix leather jacket. I took the purple circle off of her chest, incorporated it into the jacket and I gave her a Danny Phantom logo because she's on Team Phantom. IO figured by now she and Tucker are full-time ghost fighters and they are just all on Team Phantom and I think maybe by this time in their life the Danny Phantom logo's become a franchise since everybody around the world knows it.

*Danny Phantom Theme plays*

Now it's time for the man himself: Mr. Danny Phantom. It was going to be Danny Phantom and the Specter Detectors - was be like a Scooby-Doo type of show and they were going to be Ghostbusters-like with packs on their back and stuff but then I decided to make him just: super hero, and have him have the ghost powers himself, you know. And I was even going to give him like an owl, like a white owl named Spooky, and at the time Harry Potter movies were just coming out and Nickelodeon had said you can't give him an owl, Harry Potter's got an owl. I was even going to give him a phantom motorcycle to drive around in and I thought that'd by cool, but he can fly so he didn't need the motorcycle. So what I did was, later on in the show, I couldn't give Danny a motorcycle but we gave one of the ghost villains, Johnny 13, a motorcycle. So that's sort of a backstory on Danny Phantom.

He ages up and his costume ages up too. I think over the years he's been experimenting with different forms of armor, different forms of jumpsuits, you know. Who knows what's been going on for the last ten years in the Fenton labs. He's always got the Fenton Thermos with him. Like he's got it on his hip now instead just having it randomly - be carrying it, he wears it like on his utility belt. Attempt number one!

So this next version of Danny is more like if he was in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. I looked at some pictures of Captain America and just some other characters like Ant-man - things like that, and just trying to update his costume a little more. He's ten years older, he's got a ten year older body, he's like 25 years old but he's really in shake cause he fights ghosts all the time. And so this is more of an armor version of Danny. Kind of getting more to an updated - sort of a sleek sort of look.

I wanted to incorporate elements of Dark Danny in here now, not that this Danny is a bad guy. But I do want to age him up and I thought some of his ghost-y traits would kind of maybe - he would enhance them a little bit. He kind of is embracing his ghost side a little bit so he maybe make his hair a little and have it flow, you know, even giving him a cape. This belt I'm adding is a belt I'm borrowing from one of my very first original concept drawings of Danny Phantom from years and years ago - an homage to that old drawing.

Here's an iPad pro sketch incorporating all the elements that I just showed you and I also thought it was really cool to add some of his dark Danny-ness with his hair. It really was bugging me, the Fenton Thermos, you know, to catch ghosts with. I've always loved the Fenton Thermos because he has to, obviously, catch the ghosts, but it's always been kind of cumbersome and he kind of has to hold it  in his hand. So a friend of mine said, hey why don't you just build it into his glove - build the thermos into his glove, or the technology into his gloves, so Danny's going to have a Fenton Glove, actually, power his suit whenever he sucks up a ghost he gets power from that ghost which continues to power his suit so he can catch more ghosts so you could see the power coursing through his suit, through the D, and through the belt and even through the boots and the gloves. I think that's really a cool idea and, who knows, you might just see that actually animated someday.

[happyumbrellla]

Sanders and Weasley : Chapter 2

Chapter 2 : This girl is crazy :

 POV Khalla

 I was just closing my suitcase when I heard my mother shout :

        -Khalla ! Mr Weasley is here.

Perfect timing :

        -I arrive.

My father helped me get down my suitcase. When I came downstairs, Mom explained what the TV was for to the twins’ dad :

        -Hello Mr Weasley.

        -Arthur for the love of Merlin.

We kisses each other cheeks :

        -Ready for the trip ?

        -Ready.

Arthur took my suitcase and I, my briefcase :

        -No nonsense, my mother told me.

        -Not the least.

At least… Not too much. I was going to the Weasley’s all the same. The twins’ father gave me a wink. He knew perfectly well what I was embarking on. I grabbed his hand, made a sign to my parents and transplaned to the Burrow. I still had chills for a little while after the apparition. Always. It was awful :

        -Everything’s fine ?

        -Yeah.

A great shudder ran through me, clutching me lightly :

        -Shudder post-tranplaned ?

        -Exactly.

        -The more you do it, the less you will have them.

        -It’s good to know.

Molly opened the door to us and hardly did she do that a certain Ginny Weasley jumped on me :

        -Khalla !

I stepped back one step to cushion its momentum and stopped moving just the time to look at my briefcase. I prayed that it wouldn’t explode. There were unstable things inside. But for now, everything was fine. So I hugged the only Weasley girl, outside of Molly of course :

        -I missed you.

        -Me too.

She raised her eyes wide toward me :

        -You’re sleeping in my room.

        -That’s true ? That’s great. We will be able to…

        -Put nail polish ?

        -Discussing boys ?

        -What color trends this winter ?

        -Shoes ?

I closed my eyes for a moment, sighing, amused :

        -Hello to you two too.

The twins gave me a kiss on each cheek :

        -It’s a pleasure to have you here Khalla.

        -Thank you George.

        -Lost ! It was Fred.

I sketched a smile :    

        -No. It’s George.

The two brothers looked at each other :

        -She’s talented.

        -You don’t want to tell us know you do it ? No, because since you know us, you’ve been mistaken… What ? 4 times ?

        -Something like this yeah.

I winked at them :

        -I have my tricks.

Daddy Weasley put a hand on my shoulder :

        -Is Muggle fashion different from wizards ?

        -On certain points yes. But overall… No.

        -And is…

        -Let her breathe as many as you are, cried Molly from the doorway.

Ginny let go of me and I smiled when the mother opened her arms to me. I went to snuggle up there :

        -It’s a pleasure to have you with us Khalla.

        -Thank you Mrs Weasley.

She gave me a pat on the back of my head :

        -How many times will I have to tell you to call me Molly ?

I smiled :

        -Molly.

        -That’s better.

As I hugged her, I saw Ron go through the kitchen, his mouth full. Our eyes met and I found it difficult to restrain myself from laughing :

        -Hi Kral…

        -Ronald Weasley ! These cookies were not for you.

        -Neither for us, replied the twins as they returned to the house.

        -Hoooo, Molly grunted.

She brought me inside the Burrow :

        -Fred, George, take her suitcase upstairs.

        -Chief. 

        -Yes Chief.

George came to take my briefcase :

        -Prudence with that.

        -WHy ?

        -You’ll see.

A glimmer of curiosity immediately lit in the eyes of the twins. Then I froze :

        -Khalla ?

        -I forgot the bouquet of flowers !

        -What bouquet of flowers ?

        -I bought flowers this morning to give them to you. And I forgot to take them ! I’m sorry.

        -Hoooo. Little sweetheart. It doesn’t matter. I really appreciate the intention but you weren’t obliged. And stop checking me.

        -But I don’t like going to people house empty-handed.

        -Your presence is enough for us, said Arthur.

I smiled at him :

        -Khalla ?

        -Yes Ginny ?

        -Can you help me with my potion classes ?

        -So please, Ron added.

I looked at Molly :

        -The twins said you were good at it and it seems like most of the members of that family have problems with that. They’re going to break your feet. Wrong.

        -No problem.

I focused my attention on Ginny and Ron :

        -I will help you. But not today.

The brother and sister made a high-five :

        -And will you help us too ?

I raised an eyebrow, turning my head towards George. They didn’t really need me to help them… Except for the creation of some components of Weasley products, but not for courses… Rarely for the courses :

        -Since when you need potions help ?

        -Since we can dispose of your acquaintances, replied Fred.

        -And your hands.

I looked up at the ceiling before turning my attention to the mother of the family :

        -How can I help you ?

        -In nothing my little sugar.

        -But if you want to help, so go up to see us, launched one of the twins since I do not know where in the house.

        -Go, Molly told me.

I started climbing the stairs before shouting :

        -I take care of my affairs first, and them I come to see you guys.

        -If you want.

I hadn’t seen Charlie or Bill yet, but they were not really in the corner right now. And I didn’t see Percy either, but to be honest, he made a little freak… He was the exact opposite of his brothers and honestly, I found it disturbing. Ginny joined me just after I entered her room. I found my suitcase, placed on a chair near the camp-bed which had been made for me. I had already come to sleep in the Weasley’s house, and I had always slept on that camp-bed. I loved it. It was quite soft and warm. The perfect little cocoon in my opinion. But where was my briefcase ? Hell, George had to keep it ! I shrugged and told myself that anyway, they couldn’t open it, I had protected the opening by a spell that worked only with me. Then, I realized that it was the first time I was going to stay a full week in here. It stressed me a little to spend so much time with Fred… In his… Intimacy ? I blushed :

        -You think about your lover ?

I jumped on hearing Ginny’s voice behind me :

        -N-No. I… I was thinking about the bouquet of flowers that I forgot and I feel a little ashamed. Especially since my mother has repeated it to me fifteen times since yesterday.

The red head smiled :

        -It doesn’t matter.

She sat on her bed and began to wring her fingers nervously :

        -What is it Ginny ?

        -I… I’d like to ask you advice.

I sat on the bed that had been put up for me :

        -I’m listening to you.

She sat in front of me on the floor :

        -It’s about Harry…

I smiled. The whole world knew that Ginny was in love with Harry Potter… Except the concerned :

        -I… I don’t know how to make it… Finally, you see…

        -To make him see you ?

        -Yes.

The pink color of her cheeks was adorable :

        -You must try to relax. To remain natural.

Ginny turned red and very timid when Harry was there :

        -I know it’s easier said than done, but you have to try. If you are relaxed, you will be more likely to talk to him, especially since you have a lots of things in common. Quidditch for example. With me, you can talk about it for hours, even though I don’t know much about it, but he plays it… Merlin knows that I hate to see him and your brothers play.

        -But they play super good.

        -I don’t say the opposite. But I’m always afraid that one of them will take a bad shot.

The twins had rarely been touched since they started playing, but Harry had broken his arm by a Bludger in his second year. A long shiver ran through my back, I had been so scared last year with this Basilisk walking around the school. I shook my head and talked Quidditch with to changer our mind. It did her good, she almost immediately recovered her pretty smile :

        -Do you think I should go to the auditions for a place on the Gryffindor team ?

        -If that’s what you want to do, yes. But… Don’t you want to wait a little longer ? When will you be in the third-fourth grade ?

She looked at me, surprised :  

        -Why ?

        -I might be a little less afraid for you if you’re older.

Ginny gave me a big hug :

        -You’re the big sister I’ve never had, she murmured.

I was extremely touched by her words :

        -You’re my little sister, Ginny.

I hadn’t brothers or sisters. My parents were already struggling to take care of me because of their business, so two children ? No, they couldn’t have done it all. I had always been more or less used to being alone, but everything had changes radically when I met the Weasleys. Today, they were my second family. Small blows against the door made us part. I went to open the door and found myself in front of Ron :

        -Look at that !, he said handing me a newspaper article.

The picture showed the Weasley family almost completely :

        -We went to Egypt to see Bill.  

        -How is he ?

        -Good.

And Ron started talking to me about their trip to Egypt. He was so happy to see his brother again after so much time :

        -But Mom didn’t want us to go into this one because she was afraid of the mummies that still inhabit the place.

        -I understand her.

        -I wouldn’t have gone anyway.

        -Because our brother is a fool, Fred said.

        -We would have gone to see the mummies, George said.

I looked at the twins, who had just entered the room, and I didn’t contain my laughter. They had tried to open the briefcase and the spell had prevented them while dyeing their hair of electric blue :

        -You are wonderful.

        -What did you do ?, Ginny asked amusingly.

        -We tried a new hair color.

The twins took each of my arm :

        -If you’ll excuse us Ron. We need this girl.

And they dragged me to their room, and they quickly closed the door as soon as I entered the room :

        -Would you be so kind as to take that away from us if you please ?

        -I hesitate. You’re cute with blue hair.

        -Khalla !, they screamed at the same time.

        -Okay.

I pulled out my wand from its fastener to my belt and pointed it at the twins. I gave them hair back their red color before putting my eyes on my briefcase :

        -What did you put in there ?

I crouched in front of the two locks, entered my codes, out of the eyes of Fred and George, and opened my briefcase :

        -That’s what I had time to prepare for you during the holidays.

There were lots of flasks containing potions of different colors and producing different effects :

        -I did some tests for both of you based on what you had asked me to possibly create for you. All the potions here are more or less stable.

        -How much more or less ?, asked George.

        -When I said not to shake the briefcase, it was to avoid any risk of explosion.

The two brothers smiled :

        -You’re awesome.

I blushed at Fred’s words. What had I said to Ginny ? Ohh yes ! Try to relax. I took a deep breath before saying :

        -I managed to put some effects in bottles but not all. And I’m still working on the love potion. It’s not quite ready. Not at all in fact.

        -It’s already huge what you’ve done.

        -All you have to do is adjust all that to suit you gentlemen.

George kissed my hand :

        -And how can we reimburse you noble lady ? we have no money to offer you.

        -Open your jokes and catches’ shop. It will refund me all my efforts for you.

        -Would you accept a nature payment ?

I became all red, just like Fred when his brother continued his sentence :

        -I am sure that my brother Fred will be delighted to pay you.

I didn’t move as a cushion crashed on the side of his face. Then the red-head laughed :

        -You should see you faces.

I finally smiled to dissipate a little my discomfort. Merlin, I was never going to get over that one. Fred and a nature payment… Damn it ! I shook my head before taking a bottle in particular in the briefcase before closing it :

        -Come with me.

I stopped to get Ron, Ginny, Percy and the Weasley’s parents on the way outside the house. The night was fresh but pleasant :

        -What do you want to show us Khalla ?

I shook the bottle that started to shine in many different colors before putting it on the floor and opening it very quickly. I stepped back just before a light spurt came out of the bottle to illuminate the sky. Then the light scattered and delicately diffused into the sky, creating an aurora borealis :

        -Woha.

It was wonderful :

        -How did you do that ?

        -By accident. I was working on the love potion when I was mistaken in ingredient. And I got it by stirring a little too energetically the contents of my cauldron.

George and Fred exchanged a serious look. Then Fred leaned in to whisper :

        -We’ll have to talk to you privately.

        -Euh… Okay.

I didn’t know if I should be worried or not. I had never heard that tone in Fred voice… Nor in George’s. Ginny came to put her head on my shoulder and I laid my cheek against it. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Arthur put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and it made me smile. Both were adorable together, and at that moment their eyes were filled with a gleam that I saw too rarely because of all their problems. I was trying to help them as much as I could but… I couldn’t do much, unfortunately. I was nevertheless glad that this aurora borealis gave pleased them.

POV Fred  

We all stood outside watching the delicate movements of the aurora borealis that Khalla had offered to us a good ten minutes before it completely dissipated. Mom was very moved and she kisses the forehead of Khalla. Dad ruffled her hair by thanking her. Percy nodded his head with a smile, which was a miracle by the way. Ron gave her a huge smile before Ginny hugged her. One day, she was going to break her ribs :

        -I’ll finish preparing the dinner, Mom said.

We waited to be alone with Khalla to say :

        -Fred and I would like to ask you something.

She nodded :

        -Do you want me to go and get my notebook to take notes of your requests ?

        -No… This is not a request.

        -Ho ?

I deeply inspired before saying :

        -We would like to know of you… How did you position yourself in relation to everything you do to help us in our business project ?

        -Do you want a share ? Will you ask us to reimburse you later  for everything you do for us today ?

Khalla straightened up, tensed and her face expressed her surprise as much as her irritation :

        -If I remember well, I have already told you it.

        -But for all you…

        -I do it because, one, it pleases me, two, I have time, three, you are my bests friends and I want to help you. I don’t want you two asking me that question again.

George and I exchanged an anxious look while swallowing. Knowing Khalla, they really shouldn’t ask the question again. I looked at the empty bottle she had picked up and held in her hand :

        -You think you could do it again ?

        -Yes. I brought with me some ingredients to try to work. Can I borrow your cauldrons and your’s father barn ?

        -No problem, we replied at the same time.

We returned together in the house for dinner. She sat between Ginny and Ron. And I could see how happy she was to find herself surrounded by so much life. Since her parents weren’t often available, she often ate alone at home.

After the meal, we all settled in front of the fireplace. I pushed George to sit on the left of Khalla as Ginny sat on her right. My sister asked her if she could make her a braid for the night while Dad told us stories about Muggles. Our guest didn’t fail to answer our questions when we had them. Then our evening ritual began. That is, mom took her knitting, Dad a department report, Percy his course notes, Khalla and Ginny their respective books as  Geroge and I picked up our novelty concepts for our product line. All this, well set up near the fire. I smiled at seeing at the corner of my eye Khalla pricking me a blank sheet and my feather to scribble things in connection with her reading. It was about how to do love potion. After a while, I felt something landing on my shoulder, cutting me off in my sentence to George. I slowly turned my head to see Khalla asleep on my shoulder, Ginny on her. I felt myself blushing. I swallowed before sinking a glance at my brother who smiled like an idiot and then I saw my parents… They looked like two marshmallows so the picture seemed to melt them :

        -I think you can up them to bed, Mummy whispered.

Of course, George took care of Ginny. He carefully removed the book from her hands before lifting her gently into his arms without waking her. For my part, it was a bit more tactical. It was Ron who took Khalla’s stuff as I slowly moved my arm to pass it around her shoulders. I froze when she moved against my side. My cheeks became even more flaming when she snuggled a little more against me. Once she stopped, I slid my other arm under her lap and finally lifted her. Merlin, she didn’t weigh heavily :

        -Good night.

        -Good night my darling.

        -Good night Fred.

I climbed the steps at the speed of a snail so as not to wake her up… But also to enjoy our proximity. I gently placed her on the bed under George’s amused look :

        -Shut up, I whispered.

        -I didn’t say anything.

We looked one last time at our two sleeping girls before extending the lamps and closing the door :

        -So ?

        -What ?

        -Did you like it ?

        -What ?

George gave me a hit on the back of my head :

        -you know very well what I’m talking about.

I blushed :

        -Not at all.

        -You are a desperate case mate. I swear to you that if she succeeds in making this love potion I will make you drink liters, so that you may confess your feelings to her.

        -Did you think a single second to the fact that maybe she didn’t like me that way ?

        -Godric ! You are as despairing as each other. You spend most of your time making your eyes sweet, flirting and there isn’t one of you that will make the first step towards the other. It is depressing.  

I frowned :

        -Do we speaking about you and Angelina or are you good ?

My brother began to blush :

        -There’s no mention of me here, but of you. What’s stopping you from asking ?

        -I don’t want to risk losing her friendship.

Geroge crashed a hand on his face :

        -It’s going to take ages, he whispered.

I shrugged and went downstairs to get our things back :

        -Then ?, Mom asked.

        -They both sleep.

        -Good.

I dwelt on Khalla’s book and on her notes. Apparently, she planned to combine different plants for the love potion. I was curious to know what she was going to create. A question then comes to my mind. She had told us to have produced what we had requested but… Who had she tested to tell us that it was working ? That’s one thing I’d have to ask her. I went up to bed shortly after that. George didn’t speak to me about Khalla when he came to lie down on his bed.

The next morning, I was awakened by a burning smell. I painfully opened my eyes, grinning :

        -What is that smell ?, George growled.

I got up to open the door of our room. No smoke coming from the kitchen. I went down the stairs to find the shutters open, so Dad and Mom were already up. I opened my eyes wide as I saw black smoke escape from Dad’s barn. Panic spread through my veins as I rushed to the front door :

        -George !, I cried. Bring the wands !

I opened the door on the fly and ran to the barn :

        -Dad ?

No answer. I slod the ddor of the barn to open it more widely :

        -Dad !

I rushed to the origin of the smoke :

        -Nop, it’s Khalla.

Oh merlin, makes her safe. The smoke came from a cauldron in which a strange mixture was bubbling. Khalla wore safety glasses and a blouse, she seemed to be fine :

        -Everything is fine ?

        -Yes. Why ?

        -I saw the smoke.

        -Ho. Sorry. It’s my fault. I made a mistake in a dosage and I try to complete with the right doses so that the smoke stops. It should soon do so.

Scarcely had she finished her sentence, than a flame flowed from the cauldron :

        -Do not…, she sighed.

I wanted to grab my wand, but I had left it in the bedroom. Khalla pulled her own from her chignon, leaving her hair cascaded on her shoulders and I thought it was beautiful, despite the fact that a cauldron was on fire by my side :

        -Aquaeructo.

And she extinguished her fire by herself :

        -That damn love potion irritates me !, she grunted.

        -If you can’t do it, it does matter. Drop it.

Khalla pointed her wand at me :

        -Do not tell me to give up ! You know perfectly well that I don’t like it and that I would not. I don’t confess myself defeated… Not yet.

I smiled, amused. This girl was as crazy as she was exceptional :

        -What’s the matter ?, George yelled as he entered the barn.

He had our two wands in his hand. My brother froze at the sight of one in front on the other with Khalla :

        -All is right George. I just made a mistake with my potion.  

        -Ho Merlin… I almost got a heart attack because of you.

        -Hooooo.

She went to hug him. I was a little jealous by the way. I hadn’t been hugged me. I crossed my arms on my chest and began to sulk :

        -There is favouritism, I grumbled. I also worried.

        -For your dad.

        -But for you too, when you told me it was you.

Khalla smiled before hugging me. I didn’t miss the wink that George made me :

        -Have you awakened a long time ?

        -About 30 minutes.

        -And you’re already throwing yourself into potions ?

        -I absolutely wanted to try something before helping Ginny with her frst-year potions. So I take advantage that she is in the shower for my test.

        -Speaking of test, who did you test your potions on during the holidays ?

She arched an eyebrow :

        -On my neighbour, what a question.

My brother and I exchanged a surprised look :

        -On your neighbour ?

        -Unlike you, I don’t test my experience on myself. I don’t want to be sick. And then, she doesn’t like me and I don’t either. So I manage to slip my potions into her tea when she comes home. Mom likes to invite her.

A smile stretched my lips before I laughed. That’s another reason why Khalla is our best friend, she’s a stupid as we are. We heard racing sounds outside :

        -I am ready, exclaimed Ginny as she entered the barn.

My sister came to throw herself into Khalla’s arms as Ron joined us with a softer step :

        -Not me.

        -Ben… I tell myself that the revisions that you are going to make to Ginny could be useful to me and that… Finally you see… Could also help me with mine…

Khalla emitted a small sound clearly amused :

        -No worries, Ron. Bring your cauldrons. Put just one pair of glasses each and one will start.

Our little sister went away as fast as she arrived :

        -Can we stay too ?

        -No. You have markets to study and products to invent. Go away.

And she motionned us out of the barn. George and I went back to our room, but we didn’t work, we went back to bed. If the younger ones were motivated to work, it was not our case, not after bruising the heart attack to barely wake up.

A little later in the day, after the midday meal prepared by the products that Mom and Dad had left bought in the morning, Khalla came to watch us train at Quidditch not far from the Burrow. She didn’t play, she wasn’t passionate either, but she enjoyed watching matches. If I remember correctly, she never missed a single Gryffindor training or any game. She once told me she liked to watch the players. She found it fascinating how they analysed the entire terrain every second to find the best angle, when to accelerate or feint :

        -Can we play too ?, Ginny yelled her broom in her hand.

        -Of course.

So Ron and Ginny joined us. And by the time they join us in the air, I have focused my attention on Khalla. She gave me a little smile and a little sign of the hand. The smile I gave him must have a silly look but so much the worse. Then she opened wide eyes just before the Bludger that George and I used to train do not brush my nose :

        -Focus Fred !

I thundered my twin brother’s gaze before sending him the Bludger with a powerful blow of the bat :

        -That’s what we want during the games Freddie.

I was going to kill him one of those days :

        -Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, Khalla ?

        -Thank you but no. Besides, I don’t have my broom.

        -You can get on Fred’s.

I opened my eyes wide looking at my sister. Was she in cahoots with George ? Would he have dared to involve him ? :

        -Does that bug you Fred ?

I drew my attention to Khalla :

        -Not at all.

I got back to the ground and let my friend climb behind me. I had to show a great self-control to prevent my cheeks from blushing when her little arms were wrapped around my chest so she didn’t fall. And when his whole body stuck against my back :

        -Ready ?

        -Yes.

And we took altitude. His fingers closed slightly on my T-shirt. We were all now in the air and ready to play :

        -Ginny and Fred vs George and me.

        -Hold on miss.

She stuck a little more against me as I started moving. I had a hard time concentrating on this training.  

In the week, I surprised muself more than once to smile like an idiot seeing how much my family loved Khalla. She was kind, helpful and adorable. She always helped Mom for everything and anything. She helped my father understand muggles because his parents were not wizard. She was arguing with Ron about the best dessert. Ginny regarded her as her sister. And George and I, well, she was our best friend so necessarily, we adored her :

        -You know, it’s the ideal woman for you… Of for me besides.

        -Don’t even think about George.

        -And why not ? If you do nothing, I’ll try my luck.

Nah, he would not dare. Although I had some doubts when he approached Khalla and put an arm around her shoulders. I don’t know what they said, but they smiled and I don’t know why, but George’s discreet wink made me particularly jealous. I clenched my teeth, got up and pinched George’s arm to remove it. The second after, I passed my own arm around the shoulders of Khalla :

        -Hey Fred, she said as she finished the dishes.

        -What were you discussing ?

        -The color of her underwear. I told her mine was green.

        -And I told him that they were black with red lace. What about you Freddie ?

        -Euh…

She leaned over ans slid her wet finger of water between my skin and my jeans, making me shiver and blush, before pulling a little bit to finally say :

        -Blue !

They made a high-five while I stayed red like a tomato. What was that ? if it was that type of game we were going to play, we would be two… Finally three. And maybe that could help me determine if my fellings had a chance of being retunred or not. But I was Fred Weasley, I liked to play and this game pleased me especially. I now needed a plan of action.

A little later in the week, I again had the fear of my life when we heard an explosion outside the house. When we all ran out of the house, it was to see Khalla coming out of the barn, coughing, her face covered with soot :

        -Nothing serious, she coughed to our attention.

        -What did you do ?

        -I wanted to try a new combination.    

I put my hands on her cheeks and wiped a little soot that was on it :

        -And if you stopped mixing for today and you came to see our new concepts ?

        -Can I take a shower before ?

        -Of course.

        -Can he come with you ?, George said before entering the barn to see the extent of the damage with Dad.  

I tried to contain my blush before saying :

        -I could rub your back.

She blushed before smiling :

        -Why not, she whispered.

Okay… I didn’t expect that answer. She winked at me before she left, which event more shocking. I stumbled on without knowing what to do before I decided to go see my twin brother. I threw the first thing I had on hand to the back of his head :

        -Dumbass.

        -Aïe !

George rubbed his head, saying :

        -What did she say ?

I blushed :

        -That I could rub her back.

My brother opened his eyes wide with surprise :

        -And well go ! What are you waiting for ? An invitation card ?

        -She must have been joking.

George raised his eyes to the sky before crushing his face on his hand :

        -Merlin ! It’s going to be difficult.

I preferred to star cleaning up the little bazaar that Khalla had caused to avoid responding to my brother.

Just before the week-end, we learned that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. We were a little worried but it wasn’t enough to convince Khalla to stay with us a week longer? She could have finished the holidays with us. But no, she had chosen to go back to her parents and join us at the Leaky Cauldron the morning of the beginning of the school year. I have hugged her with force :

        -I see you in a week Fred, she squeaked.

It was long, a week. But I didn’t say that. Instead, I released her and smiled at her. And then, I had a week to complete my plan of action.

© 2017 - Happy Umbrellla - All Rights Reserved for this text. No reposting and/or modifying of any form on any media is allowed. No translations allowed.

[ginnyzero]

Seats at the Table, A Metaphor

I’ve talked about the fate of Project Runway, one of the only platforms left for small designers to gain national and sometimes international attention. Then Friday I posted on twitter a bit about the cult of the celebrity designer and writer and expounded upon it on Saturday here in my blog.

Twitter is not really the best place to post complete thoughts in my opinion. And I did get some responses that almost made my case for me as they immediately jumped to the defense of Kanye as a fashion designer. That wasn’t remotely the thrust of my argument and said a lot more about them than it does about me. I had to end it when the person basically told me that anyone could do fashion design and proved they were part of the problem.

Once again, I wish everyone success. I want people to have success and find happiness in what they feel passionate about! I don’t wish failure on anyone, not even people I actively dislike and disagree with. That’s just churlish and a waste of my energy. Yay for success!

So, today, I want to use a metaphor. Metaphors don’t work well on twitter. Tumblr, sure, because you can use more words, not twitter. Then I’ll stop beating this dead horse.

Imagine the fashion industry or the writing industry as one big table.

Let’s say, there are 50 seats at this table and 6 of them are taken by the corporate heads of your industry. Then there are a dozen taken by major fashion brands or famous writers. These are the names that are reliable money makers. They’re always going to get money to fill their store with merchandise or get their book published and advertised. And seven of these seats are taken by editors of industry leading periodicals be it newspapers, magazines or reviewers or even professional associations like the CFDA for Fashion and the SFWA for writers. That leaves half of the seats empty for those who aren’t as big and the fresh raw talent coming out of schools, working as interns or already somewhere in the industry working for someone else. And you’re one of those fresh young talents and you’ve been invited to have a seat at the table.

This is exciting. Here is your chance to be heard. And you’re ready. You have your book polished or your portfolio up to date. You have designs. You have ideas. And these are the people that can make it happen and all you have to do is impress them with your love and knowledge of what you’re doing.

Everyone is settling. The introductions are out of the way. You’re all set to talk about what is new, exciting and what’s coming up in your industry and you’re ready to dazzle with how your creative work fits exactly what they want.

And the door bursts open, and in comes a “celebrity.” They’re flashy. They’re loud. They are tossing around jargon in the wrong context. They shove their way to the table and start blandishing their name and flashing money. Their book isn’t even written. They don’t have any sketches or garments to share, just some swipes from a magazine. They’re certain that they’re going to be big and they have the money to bully their way to get things produced.

As a designer, you’re asked to move down the table to make room for this person. Your ideas aren’t going to be heard. They keep talking over you and pounding the table with their finger saying what a big name they are and people want to be like them. They can sell, sell, and sell clothes. You listen to them and realize that if they do what they want to do, there won’t be enough fabric quota coming in from other countries to cover your designs. There won’t be time in manufacturing schedules to get your small collection out along with their collection. You’re going to have to start over from scratch and hope you guess next season’s trends correctly. You wonder if the celebrity knows what an iconic style is or fashion history or how to draft a pattern and realize it doesn’t matter. They’ll just pay someone else to do it.

As a writer, someone comes over and asks you to leave. They’re polite about it. They’re sorry. There are only so many books being printed in a year and the celebrity does have a name. The corporate heads are sure that the book will bring a profit since the celebrity has a marketing campaign built into being a celebrity. Your book may be perfect for the market right now. Next year it probably won’t be. Come back with something different. Maybe you’ll get lucky again and there will be some advertising dollars left over. You leave. You come back next year.

Another celebrity barges in.

The pattern repeats itself.

The celebrity’s line gets bad reviews or fails. They go off to dabble in something else. The celebrity book sells and so, your idea, that could have been the next Harry Potter or Tamora Pierce, never sees the light of day.

The celebrity is a sure deal. They aren’t a risk.

The little known creative with an idea and it may be good and it may be stupid. But unlike the celebrity, you don’t have the name or power or money to push against all logic and reason that idea, good or stupid, into production at the cost of other creative’s livelihoods.

These are fields with extremely high entrance bars. There are gatekeepers and internships and agents blocking every door and window. Target markets, demographics, genres, trend forecasting, and a very limited assortment of people who call the shots on what is good and what is bad. Buck the trends, everyone starts screaming and it’s the Sad Puppies versus the Rabid Puppies versus the establishment all over again. It’s hard enough to get your voice heard. Then you throw in celebrities with built in marketing campaigns, agents and advertisers and hordes of followers, the entrance bar becomes even higher because corporate points at them and goes “you need to be able to do that before we consider you.”

50 Shades of Grey anyone?

Here is a difficult truth. I can be happy for the success of a celebrity in their creative field. I can be happy if they achieve success in fashion or writing. I do not have to be and am not required to be happy that my place at the table that I studied hard and worked hard to get there is now smaller, harder to acquire or no longer available because they took it.

Tyra Banks was/is a fashion model. She wrote a fiction book. She used her ANTM series (All Stars season) to advertise she wrote a book and talk about her book and I listened to her describe the premise and decided the only way she got it published was because she was Tyra Banks. I didn’t know Tyra Banks liked writing fiction! It was just so out of left field and I mean, good for her. She wrote a book.

Or I hoped she actually wrote the book. I don’t know. I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt here. I’m almost sure that she approached a publisher with the idea. I’m quite sure that a publisher wasn’t going to approach Tyra Banks to write a YA fiction book for them with the premise about a modelling school? Or something. (It involved models and a school, I swear. The way she described it was just so off the wall.)

So, she wrote a book and managed to get a publisher to publish it.

In order for her book to get published, an agent with another book, doesn’t matter what it is when there are only 6 publishing companies handing out so many book slots a month with the advertising dollars. (One book a month is the money maker for each publishing house and gets the advertising. 12 books a year people per publishing house, 72 books total.) That agent and the writer that they represented got told no. Someone had to leave the table for Tyra Banks, fashion model. All so Tyra Banks could add to her list of titles that she was a writer. Published author Tyra Banks.

I didn’t hear about the book anywhere else, so I don’t think it got any critical success. And as far as I know, she hasn’t written any other fiction books.

So, it’s upsetting to me. It’s frustrating.

This is an actress writing a dieting cookbook and a dietician or executive chef being told “not this time.”

This is a talented writer who has spent ten years writing, has 2 drawer novels and possibly/optionally an writing degree thinking that the publishing contract was in their grasp, only to have their book put back on the slush pile.

Back in 2003, 2004, Gwen Stefani started a line called L.A.M.B. Now, Gwen made most of her outfits for the stage. She had a very specific style. Unlike a lot of celebrities, the fashion world gave her a nod for having those credentials. At the same time, she was going for a solo career and let out an album of the same name that used the lyrics to advertise the clothes. (It was pretty blatant what she was doing.) L.A.M.B. lasted about five years. She launched another line called Harujuku Lovers a couple of years into designing for L.A.M.B. (This got lambasted for appropriated Japanese culture.) She did shoes, expanded into fragrances and now, fourteen years later all that is left is plans for her to license makeup with Urban Decay and some Harujuku Lovers perfumes.

Fashion is a tough business. You don’t start with clothes and go into shoes a year later and then do a fragrance a year after that and start another label and expect to succeed. You can be in business in fashion for over ten years before you see a dime in return. (Ask Michael Kors, he’ll tell you.)

I was in fashion school around this time. L.A.M.B. made most of us students groan. To us, it was a way for her to launch her music career, not a fashion career. To us it was a blatant publicity move. And when Harujuku Lovers came out, something that our teachers had been telling us not to do for years. It was moderately appalling. 90s ska is a very niche market. Her clothes were a very niche market. Harujuku style clothes are a very niche market! She taken a space at our table and pushed us down. Most of us didn’t know she made her own clothes for the stage.

In hindsight, at least she knew how to design.

It didn’t make us feel better at the time. How could we compete with Gwen Stefani?

We couldn’t. And Gwen couldn’t compete with the rest of the fashion world and do her music at the same time. I’m happy she enjoyed some success as a fashion designer! Great for her! But it was blatantly about her and not necessarily about fashion. Now she did use Harujuku Lovers to help out the Tsunami victims in 2011 and I applaud her for it. And I hope she has success with Urban Decay if she ends up licensing her name for the makeup.

I don’t know if Gwen funded her lines herself. I don’t know if she had corporate investors. If she had corporate investors, that’s money that was taken away from an aspiring designer to go to Gwen Stefani, to expand Gwen’s name. If it was her own money, sure it was her money to spend. That’s fine. I don’t want her to fail. I wanted her to have success. She’s, I’m sure, a lovely human being. I enjoy her music and want her to succeed in her endeavors. I’m not a horrible person.

At the same time, I see how celebrities are hurting these creative communities that they’re entering after earning their fame and fortune in another creative field. So, I’m going to end on this, the major positive thing from my twitter thread. Celebrities, those with fame and fortune, if you desire to enter another creative field, please, see it as a business investment for another creative person and not yourself. Use your name and influence to invest in a fashion student or a little known independent author or a small fashion designer. Sponsor them. Respect the field and the dedication that it took for these other creatives to come up with their fashion lines, design aesthetic, carefully polished manuscript and don’t take their seat at the table.

Believe me, you’ll make some fashion students, small designers and independent book writers very, very happy. Give them a break. Like someone once gave you a break.

Love,

A fellow creative