#knicka

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Finally a kindred spirit! Namor might be a compelling character, but he's also a massive hypocrite. He makes this great big spiel about how much he hates imperialism and how he and Wakanda are kindred spirits in this regard, which is completely undermined by how how he treats Wakanda exactly like any imperialist nation would. He shows Ramona zero respect - both how he approaches her for their first meeting and then he rubs in it how there's nothing she can do to make him return Shuri and Riri to her. And then he launches an attack killing all those innocent citizens and a completely defenseless Ramona all in retaliation for the 2 N'akia killed (and she only did so because they both were ready to kill Shuri and Riri on the spot). And is he remorseful after all this? No, he's proud he weakened a powerful nation without any just cause and how they'll probably have to swallow their pride for his help in the near future. And this is never at all acknowledged in the film itself, which drove me crazy!

Yeah. He very much gave me that "Black people need to do more for us" energy that we get from other POC with things today. Like, Bro. This ain't their business. They dealing with they own shit and how dare you? You think that the best route is to attack somebody you wanted as an ally than to attack the enemy and then perhaps circle back to this beef that stood on his ego. Only on his ego. You letting them crackers regroup and potentially get stronger while you weakening your only probable ally? That's not just trifling, it's also bad military planning.

People let him slide because the actor is fine. Two things can be true. You can want that actor to blow your back out and also be like, "But fuck Namor, though." He is an enemy of Africa and an enemy of ME. I'ma stay on this wave. Idc how big his thang is. Fuck Namor and the clique he claim.

Had a chance to fight the real enemy and really chose to attack the greatest nonwhite nation that he knew of? Suck my dick, Namor.

Anyways. Wakanda Forever, for me had a warrior saves a damsel story, and that's the relationship I really cared about the most. Shuri reaching out to Riri defending her when danger comes. Bringing her to her kingdom for protection. Refusing to give her up, even though she saw the wonder of this nation that wanted to obtain her? There's not even emphasis on THAT dynamic for me to fully enjoy this installment. I need to find that corner of fandom so I can immerse in it.

[sl-newsie]

Chapter Four: Brooklyn (Spot Colon x Female Newsie)

I’d hoid of tha Brooklyn Bridge before, but I’d neva seen it. 

But when I do, it takes my breath away.

After star’n in awe for 20 straight seconds I hear Boots call: “Hey, Becs! You’s com’n or not?”

I blink out and catch up. I think I like Brooklyn.

We walk for about ten minutes and come up to a dock. Multiple boys are jump’n off inta tha refreshing-look’n wadda beneath. 

One of ‘em comes up and intimately gets in Jack’s face. “Go’n somewhere, Kelly?”

Jack ignores ‘em and pushes forward.

“Stay behind me Becs,” Jack cautions.

“Fine,” I say stiffly. And as soon as I say it, a big kid comes up and starts check’n me out.

I cross my arms. “Hey, pal, ya got a problem?”

“Only tha pain of tha heartthrob you’s giv’n me,” he swoons.

“Well, bite tha bullet! Take a hike!” I push past him.

Afta a few minutes of walk’n I think we’s neva gonna find this ‘Spot’ character until I hear:

“Well if it ain’t Jack be nimble, Jack be quick.”

I look up and see a boy, almost a man (a very nice-look'n man, surprisin’ly), sitt’n on top of some crates. He’s wear’n a checkered shirt, faded red suspendas, brown knickas, and a gray cap- tha guy from tha alley.

“So, Spot, you moved up in the woid. Got a river view and everything,” Jack comments. I try ta move so I can see bedda, but Jack keeps mov’n with me. Why won’t he let me see?!

 ‘Spot’ hops down and I see he’s hold’n a cane. He don’t look crippled ta me. Him and Jack do tha spit handshake and grin at each odda. 

Then he notices me- and I can tell he recognizes me. I try not ta shrink away as his piercing blue eyes analyze me.

“Who’s the goil?” he asks.

“My liddle sista-”

“Hey, Jack, I can introduce myself! And I ain’t so liddle.” I turn ta Spot, too sure that Jack’s gonna tell me off lata. “Name’s Becs, Becs Kelly.” I spit in my hand and hold it out. Spot, surprised by tha gesture, shakes it.

“Take your hats off, boys. There’s a lady present,” Spot smirks.

Tha gathered crowd obliges, all tha while with their own snickers and smirks. 

I snort. “No need- I’s may be a goil, but I ain’t no ‘lady’- you’s don’t see me walk’n around all decent-like, do ya?”

Tha leader grins. “Tha name’s Spot Colon, and I’s tha King of Brooklyn.” He states proudly, then turns to Boots. “How’s it hang’n?”

“Got some nice shooters for ya!”

Boots hands him a few smooth rocks. Spot then takes out a slingshot, loads it, and aims at a nearby bottle. “So Jackie boy, I’s been hear’n things from little boidies.” He shoots, caus’n the bottle ta shatter poifectly. “Things from Queens… Harlem. They been chirp’n in my ear, tell’n me Jackie’s boys are plann’n on a strike.”

“Well, we are,” David says assurin’ly.

“Oh yeah? Yeah?” Spot gets up in David’s face, try’n to intimidate him. I tense up. He may be talla and stronga than me, but when someone tries ta mess with my family- that’s just someth’n I don’t stand for.

“Yeah, we’s are,” I step forward and speak up in a warning tone.

“Becca!” Jack hisses, try’n ta tug me away.

Spot looks me straight in tha eye. At foist I think he’s gonna soak me, but he just leers at me. “Tough goil, huh? You’s got spirit!”

“Ya have ta when you’s a newsie,” I bite back.

“All too true. So Jack, are all the odda boroughs pitch’n in?”

Jack lets go of my arm and relaxes a liddle. “They is wait’n for what Spot Colon is do’n.” 

“That makes you’s the biggest gamble. And if ya join tha strike, we’ll be unstoppable,” I add hopefully.

“You just gotta join!” David backs me up.

Spot seems ta think it over, all tha while look’n to and away from me. I can tell I really gots him think’n, and that Jack is secretly internally grateful.

“You were right, Jack. Brains. And you’s certainly got brains in that pretty head of yours, doll.”

I squint. “I ain’t no doll.”

“Whatevea, beauty.” I scowl at tha nickname. “I got brains too. How do I know you’s won’t go run’n at tha first sign of trouble? How do I know you’s got guts?”

“‘Cause I’m tell’n ya,” Jack replies.

Even I know that ain’t gonna be good enough when Spot says: “That ain’t good enough Jackie boy. You gotta show me,” he smirks while twirling his cane.

“Whadda ya want us ta do? Take ova New York?!” I rage. Spot looks surprised.

“How old are you, beauty?”

I gape. “What’s that gotta do-?!”

“That ain’t your business, Spot.” Jack states clearly.

Spot nods. “Then get oudda here.”

I scowl. Jerk! I follow Jack and Boots towards tha bridge again, but then I hear:

“Come back anytime, toots.”

I stop and pivet, now fac’n a talla, bulky guy.

“What did you just say?” I ask sternly, a bit animated.

“I’s said: Come back anytime, toots. You got a hear’n problem?”

I tilt my head. “No, I hoid ya. I’s just giv’n ya a chance ta rephrase yer sentence-”

Bam!

I punch tha guy clean in tha nose. Blood starts dripp’n down his face and tha odda guys around us start laugh’n. Tha guy gives me a murderous glare.

“You bitch-!”

He lunges at me and grabs my arm, earn’n a well-deserved kick in tha crotch. Tha guys gasp, and then help tha guy sit down while givin’n me horrified looks.

“Call me that again, I’ll kick ya again. Touch me again, and you’ll be talk’n through a mouth with no teeth!” I growl before bein’n pulled away by Jack.

“Becca, what’re ya think’n!? Ya can’t just go around kick’n guys where the sun don’t shine!”

“I don’t kick just anybody. I kick jerks where tha sun don’t shine! He started it!”

“Well, I’s end’n it-”

“Kinda already did that myself-”

“I don’t care! Let’s go,” he says, annoyed.

I follow closely, but not before gett’n one last look at tha infamous ‘Brooklyn gang.’ Spot, still twirl’n his cane, gives me a curious look. I return it with narrowed, dar’n eyes and a frown. Why didn’t he mention… I guess it don’t madda. I still owe him, but I guess he don’t care that much.

I guess I like Brooklyn, but I’s ain’t sure if Brooklyn likes me.

When we get back ta tha lodg’n house, tha fellas immediately wanna know what happened.

“Becs soaked a guy!” Boots says, earn’n a glare from Jack.

“Really?”

“Why?”

“Did he cry?”

“Shut up!” I yell. “One at a time, please!”

“No, no one at a time! No questions!” Jack barks. This gets everyone outraged.

“Why? We should get ta know!” Race complains.

“It ain’t your business!” Jack storms off, leav’n tha fellas hang’n on my every move.

Mush leans in. “Did ya really soak a guy?”

I smile. “Yeah,” I whisper back. “He started it, though.”

“What’d he do?” Les asks.

“Called me ‘toots.’”

“Oh, he had it com’n!” Blink hollars.

“Yeah. Then he tried ta grab me…” I trail off fer dramatic effect.

“Uh-huh…” The fellas wait.

“...so I kicked him where tha sun don’t shine!”

A lodda tha fellas cringe, but laugh all tha same. 

“Good job, Becs!”

“No one messes with our Beccy!”

“Nice save, Becca, but Jack is right- you’s need ta be more careful.” Crutchy comments.

“I hate ta say it, but he’s right.” Skittery agrees.

“Aw, c’mon guys! I can handle myself. I’s might not be tha strongest, but you’s all know how good I’s is at dodg’n- not ta mention hide’n!”

“It don’t madda- ya gotta be more careful,” Mush says. “So ya may owe Race and me that bet…”

“Foiget this- I’s go’n out now. Tell Jack not ta wait up.”

I turn ta leave, but Race grabs my arm. “Where?”

“Town square, maybe Medda’s.”

“Keep yer hair up-”

“Already on it!” I call as I dash out tha door and out inta tha cool night air.

I just wish they’s would just trust me more… I ain’t weak just ‘cause I’s a goil.

I sigh, then sit down on some crates in tha empty street and sing:

(Based off of (Just a) Simple Sponge from the SpongeBob Musical)

“Sure, I spend my days floating around.

Head in the clouds and my feet on the ground.

But there is more to me than just my name.

Give me a chance and I could change the game.

And maybe one day they’s all will say:

"You’s an independent newsie, it's your lucky day!"

That is what I've always wanted,

And I can finally say I've done it!”

I hop up and lean onta a lamppost.

“Let me have adventure!

Be a contender, and more!

'Cause I’m not a simple goil!

I wish they’d see I'm not just the goil next door!

No, I ain’t a simple goil!

There's gotta be a better way,

A way to save this dream I love.

But how can I stop their stubborn minds?

Am I just a simple goil?

No, I’m not a simple goil.

I take one last look up at tha sky, then rush into tha already-bustl’n theatre.

[royalbidness]

yeah I'm pretty sure lowbloods aren't the ones who are primitive considering you're basically as unevolved as a living troll can be

o twisted knickas anonhow ive missed u

[thedigitaltraphouse2]

Made Me Start (Dope Knicka) - DJ Paul

[a-butterfly-on-his-tummy]

When I’m With You

“Hello?” Harry’s voice echoes through the house as he walks in through the garage door after his meeting this afternoon. “Elizabeth darling, are yeh home?”

“No No No! I’m not ready for you to be home.” I curse softly to myself as I attempt to fasten the latch on the brand new Agent Provocateur lingerie I had bought for the special day.  Once my bra is secured, I lift my leg, stepping into the beautiful cream lace knickers.

“Love? Are yeh up here?” I can hear my boyfriend’s strong feet as he makes his way up the stairs, knowing he will soon be walking into the bedroom where part of his surprise will be ruined. Stepping quickly into the knickers, my toe catches on the material, causing it to tear a massive hole through the sheer cream lace.

“Can anything else go wrong today?” I start to cry as I hold the expensive article between my fingers, the heel of my hands come to my eyes as the tears fall down my face. I fall to the floor, the silk of my robe pooling around my body.

“Naked and waiting already?” Harry’s tone is cheeky as we walks into the closet, with me on the floor, silently crying. “Baby? Are yeh cryin’?” Harry can hear the soft sobs coming from my body. I feel him sit behind me, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, which makes my body relax.

“Yes.” I confirm. “Nothing is going right today, and I’m a bit frustrated.” The irritation pours out of my voice as I speak. Today is Valentine’s Day. Our first Valentine’s Day. I have been planning for weeks, and it just seems that nothing wants to go my way.

“Wha’s gone wrong?” Harry’s voice is like smooth chocolate as he talks in my ear.

“Everything.” I pout, dangling the ripped lace from my fingers. I feel Harry’s hand against mine as he takes the pair of knickers into his hands, examining the fabric between his fingers.

“Are these new?” Harry asks, ready to make a small joke in an effort to get me to laugh.

“Yes, I picked them out for tonight, and as I was stepping into them, my toe caught and well… you can see the result.” I move my hands up to my face in embarrassment, because who tears their brand new lingerie with their toe? Apparently I do.

“Good thing we don’t need knicka’s to make love.” His voice has a slight chuckle to it as he crumples up the expensive fabric, throwing it like a basketball towards the bin, accomplishing his goal as it lands inside. “Dinner smells lovely.” Harry attempts to change the subject in hopes of bringing my mood back up.

“No No No No NO!!” Jumping out of Harry’s arms, I sprint out of the closet and down to the kitchen, tying my dressing gown as my feet pound down the stairs. “This. Is. not. Good.” I open the oven, a massive cloud of smoke escaping as the Coq Au Vin I made for dinner is on fire. “SUCK A FISH! NO NO NO!” The tears are streaming down my face as I attempt to fan the fire with a towel, which is just making the flames grow.

“Close the oven, love.” Harry is calm and obviously the only one who is thinking clearly. He closes the oven and turns off the heat, which puts the flames out.

“UGHHHH! I. GIVE. UP!” My body falls against the island in the middle of the kitchen, my arms knocking over the vase that is housing a beautiful bouquet of flowers. The water splashes across the counter creating a big mess of liquid and petals. I begin to let the sobs take over, my tears adding to the giant puddle on the marble countertop.

“Don’t give up, darling, ‘m sure there is something that has gone alright today.” I can hear the worry in his voice as he tries his hardest to help me see the good that has happened today. He moves to wipe up the water and flowers with a towel.

“Nope.” I say, the p making an audible pop. “I made flummery.”

“Flummery? I love flummery.” I peak over at my boyfriend, who has a smile the size of China on his face.

“Do you like runny flummery? Because I made three batches and it wouldn’t set up. Not once.” I’m disappointed that I couldn’t make one of Harry’s favorite desserts. Who knew dessert pudding would be so difficult?

“Runny flummery sounds lovely to me.” Harry is trying, but it isn’t making it any better. I feel bad that I have ruined our first Valentine’s Day. I roll my eyes so hard, it hurts my head.

“I just wanted today to be perfect, ya know?” The tears fall from my eyes, soaking my cheeks.

“Hey.” Harry comes towards me, turning me around so we can look each other in the eyes. “I love you, so much. And today is perfect because I get to spend the night with my favorite human.” His sweet comments make the tears turn into a waterfall, soaking my robe with my sadness. “Give me just a second.” Harry leans in, kissing my forehead as he walks over to the speaker system, connecting his phone and pushing play, allowing the music to fill the kitchen.

“May I have this dance?” Harry holds out his hand, the smile on his face helps me to understand that he is happy and content with just spending the night with me. I place my hand in his as he brings me close to his chest, singing the song lyrics softly in my ear as we glide across the wood flooring in the kitchen.

For you, there'll be no more crying. For you, the sun will be shining. And I feel that when I'm with you, It's alright, I know it's right. To you, I'll give the world. To you, I'll never be cold. 'Cause I feel that when I'm with you, It's alright, I know it's right. And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score. And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before.

The lyrics of Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird touch my heart as I honestly feel that Harry only wants to be with me, even if my lingerie is torn or my flummery is runny or my Coq Au Vin is on fire. I rest my head against his chest as he kisses my head.

“I love you.” I say into the warmth of his chest.

“I love you more and more each day, darling.” Harry’s finger lifts my chin, bringing my lips to his, sealing his words. His lips meet mine in a kiss that is soft and reassuring. Loving. Kind. Content. Happy.

“I’m thinkin’ heart shaped grilled cheese?” Harry says as he pulls away. The smirk on his face makes me smile for the first time today. “Festive and tasty!”

“I’ll get the wine?” My eyebrow quirks up, letting a slightly cheeky expression grace my face.

“Go get the wine. And after dinner, should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?” The quoting of Woman from his debut album makes me burst into a fit of giggles. I love this boy and I love the fact that he can turn a bad day into a good one with the gift of his smile and charm.

A/N: I hope everyone had a Happy Valentines Day!! I massive thank you to my fabulous beta @whoopsharrystyles she is amazing and I love her more than I love Harry. Please check out my Masterlist and Wattpad Page. Thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, commenting and recommending. You are all amazing and I love you dearly!!! Have an Amazing weekend!!

[neshatriumphs]

I thought that was the knicka from Tiger King

Music Spotlight: Cub Sport [Tim Nelson]

Brisbane indie-pop band, Cub Sport, is preparing to release their fourth album, LIKE NIRVANA, this summer. After coming out in 2017, singer Tim Nelson allowed his openness of identity and sexuality flourish in unexpected ways. All of the band members no longer feel like outsiders anymore. We had the chance to discuss the new album with Tim, along with their creative process and a not-so-fun tour story. Check it out!

You recently released ‘Drive’ - how would you describe the track and the inspiration behind it?

‘Drive’ feels like a warm embrace. It gives me a nostalgic feeling, reminiscent of moments on tour, driving to the Great Salt Lake at sunset listening to Cocteau Twins. Hearing Cyndi Lauper - True Colors for the first time in the car with my dad. It feels timeless. The inspiration for the song is my husband Sam and our love. It’s more or less saying, “how did I get this lucky? I can’t believe you give a damn about me!”

The month of May marks Mental Health Awareness month. If you could tell your teenage self about mental health, what would you tell them?

I’d tell my teenage self that it’s okay not to feel okay and that there’s no shame in having a hard time with your mental health.

Based on your musical journey thus far, what’s been your biggest takeaway/piece of advice?

Make the art you want to make and find joy in that! Let that be your marker of success. View external validation and ‘success’ as an added bonus but not the base level for your worth as an artist.

Tell us about LIKE NIRVANA and what you hope people take away from it.

It’s a beautiful album about love and healing. It’s the album I’ve been trying to find my whole life. It’s sonically fluid, diverse and exhilarating. It’s daring! I feel like I’ve spent my whole life looking for myself in art and music and I don’t feel like I’ve really been able to find that until creating this album, so I hope it helps other people like me feel found. I hope it soundtracks people’s own journeys of love, self-discovery and healing.

Craziest thing that happened while on tour in Europe in 2019?

I woke up the morning after our Berlin show with hectic food poisoning. It was the day we were traveling to Stockholm and our day’s transit included many hours in the van as well as a ferry ride. I was so so sick in the van but we couldn’t pull over because we had to get to the ferry before it left. I was in the back of the van vomiting into bags and food containers - it was grim. I ended up having to go to hospital in Denmark. The others dropped Sam and I off in Malmo then we flew to Stockholm to meet up with them the next day. As unpleasant as it was, I still look back on those days fondly, especially now that touring is more-or-less off the cards for the rest of this year.

What impacts your creative process? Has this process changed for you since your previous work?

Life as a whole impacts my creative process. Where I am geographically as well as emotionally has a profound influence on my writing. LIKE NIRVANA is the first album I’ve written partially on the road. Tracks ‘Saint’ and ‘18’ were recorded and produced entirely in the tour van, backstage at venues and in Air BnB bedrooms. That’s definitely a big change from my previous work, which has mainly been written and recorded at home and at friends’ houses.

Lighting round! Describe each of the following in one word: Who you are, what you value the most, and what you’d be if you were a food item.

Who I am: Queer-Scorpio-Witch

What I value the most: Love

What I’d be if I were a food item: A McDonald’s hash brown (they’re vegan in Australia)

Watch Cub Sport’s music video for ‘Drive’ right here and keep an eye out for their new album, LIKE NIRVANA, this July. 

[ask-haagen-dazs-mercy]

Eenie Meenie, tipsy-teeny, obb-gob boobaleeny, knicka-knacka, fire-cracka, shish-koom-BAH!!!

Its not going to work, Poor thing, Ameile is going to be all sad, Ask jack, he knows

[knox-the-sniper]

Currently, there is quite an angry yet curious raven who is settled near-by the Sniper.

With the sun pour down on him  the brim of Knowlen’s hat kept his face shaded as he looked down at his hand, using the point of his bushwacker to clean the dirt out from under his nails as he waited for his cousins to return back from their walk about. Not too far from him his own lethal looking red headed psychopath sat  perched in a near by tree keeping an eye on his back, her beady eyes trained on the curious crow that seemed to be watching Knowlen the way he watched most spooks. The hawk giving him warning screech from where she sat as if he hadn’t already noticed the bird a while a go staring over at him, causing him to lift his golden gaze up at the fowl with an amused smirk. “Yeah, yeah. I see’im. Keep yer knicka’s on.” 

[kambui]

4:44 Notes

The Bad News: Yacht Rap.

But is that fair?

Can’t a Bruh rap about his life and decisions made – a half-billion dollas later?

Or flippin it: what if – I don’t know – a quarter century, a wife and three kids later, a grown-azz’d man spit about life in the PJs he no longer calls HQ?

Would the lack of social growth make the rest of the cotton pickers and those who aspire to get a cot in the Big House feel like all is right in America again?

Would the mortgage holders feel mo comfortable?

And then it hits you: “Still Knicka.”

Ain’t gonna lie – that video is dope as …

Anyway, I told y'all that Rap was due for major changes when I was walking along the river at close to midnight in one of the quietest neighborhoods in Manhattan and these White folks were on a yacht drinking Champagne, blasting NWA and rapping every bar.

I was surprised that the police didn’t roll up.

Especially since one of the songs blasted in one of the quietest neighborhoods in Manhattan was about the police.

Just being sarcastic.

Y'all act like Jazz was always showcased in Lincoln Center.

“First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you … ”

But meanwhile, they must’ve been practicing how to love it for years in somebody’s basement.

… and then Hov wins.

I know some will ignore that last sentence. Don’t.

Ain’t your music no mo. Face it.

Folk done locked that thang down wif rights and streaming deals.

And since music is leaving schools as if a ban has been imposed, I sometimes wonder about the future of the lab …

Back to Jigga’s joint about his 2017 experiences tho … ain’t gonna matter if the cotton pickers boycott it. Feel me?

Even conversing with friends about luxury shiggity these days makes me uncomfortable.

So I winced at those parts where he spits about his riches.

And the remark about Jews and property ownership — a lyric that’ statistically false, but prose generally never accounts for that, BTW — is gonna have many see anti-semitism and confuse Hov’s message that implores Black folks to change their relationships with loot and take lessons from other groups who are more affluent.

But hope you don’t mind if I make a Gestalt shift w/ it and ask “What insight or entertainment does the audience get from someone who raps about material ish that 99.99 percent of them will never taste?”

A window seat to what the other “much less than half” lives?

To get suggestions and ready those shopping lists in case their numbers come in tonight?

If it’s none of the above, then cats must be laser-focused on what the ol’ man can do w/ a mic years after Reasonable Doubt.

My fave album from him to this day.

Through that lens, you won’t be disappointed. He hits them bars the way you expect.

Question is – back to P.O.V. – do you want to hear what he has to say?

His social commentary is on point at times.

The better news: introspective.

But my verdict: “Better than his more recent stuff.”

Still, I’d spend my last ten on Nas or sumpn else like that.

Or, said differently: the album doesn’t pass Kambui’s Rule for Buying Music …

[yeezuskristuss]

koopsta knicka told me do it so i could not say no to him

[a-butterfly-on-his-tummy]

Day Eight: I’ll Be Home for Christmas

“Hop out of the tub, Chicken Little.” You open the pink fluffy towel wide, waiting for your squeaky clean daughter to step out of the tub.

“O-Tay. We call daddy?” She asks you with a smile on her face. Grace stands up, stepping one leg over the tub; holding the edge, she throws her other leg over the side.

“I think we could give him a call.” You wrap your little one in her fluffy towel, drying off the water that is dripping down her tiny body. You guide Grace to her room where you have her candy cane nightgown laid out on her bed.

“Christmas knickas! What da heck!” She says, shocked that she actually has a pair of Christmas knickers covered in Christmas trees.

“Daddy thought those were cute.” You giggle thinking about last week. Harry was online, shocked that they had Christmas knickers available. He HAD to buy them for Grace, along with some for himself. He is a big fan of the ones covered with Father Christmas.

You help Grace step into her knickers, and shimmy into her nightgown. She looks so snuggly it warms your heart. Grace climbs up onto her bed, wiggling under her blankets and holding up the corner for you to join.  

“Call daddy?” Grace asks, making you smile at how persistent she is when she wants something.

“Yes!” Pulling the covers up to your chest, you hold your phone out in front of you and your daughter. Unlocking your phone with your thumb, you find Harry’s contact in your favorites.

“Daddy silly.” Grace giggles at Harry’s contact picture. He is sticking his tongue out, squeezing his eyes closed. He is adorable and such a dork. “Like me!!”

“Just like you!” You say, kissing her forehead. Pushing the FaceTime button, your phone begins to ring.

Badada badada. Badada badada.

The phone stops ringing as it connects to Harry who is half a world away for a quick business meeting.  

“There are me girls!!” Harry’s smile is huge, his dimple is deep and his eyes sparkle. Oh how you have missed that smile, it’s only been three days but that’s beside the point.

“Hi daddy!” Grace says, waving to her father through the screen.

“Hi Gracie bug! How was your day?” Harry asks; he is sitting in what looks like an office and you hope you aren’t interrupting a meeting.

“It good.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Mummy help me wrap your present.” She says with a smirk on her face.

“Oh! What did yeh get meh?” He raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Shhh” Grace puts her finger against her lips. “Secret!”

“Is it a pony?” Harry asks in a teasing tone.

“Noooo.” Grace giggles at her father’s response. “Can’t wrap a horsie.”

“The amazing Harry Styles album?” Harry smiles hard.

“We have one silly.” Grace giggles.

“What about a bike?” Harry starts thinking of crazy things, trying to make Grace laugh.

“No way Jose.” She shakes her head back and forth. “We not tellin.”

“Come on bug! Just tell me…. Please.” Harry turns his lip down in an effort to persuade his daughter and wife to spill. Harry is not very patient and will do anything he can to get Grace to crack.

“Nope. Our lips are sealed. Aren’t they Gracie?” You look down at Grace who nods her head yes.

“Alright then, be like that!” Throwing his arms across his chest in a fake pout. You shake your head, causing Harry to smile and throw a wink your way.

“You see Hawk?” Grace asks, hoping her father has seen her best friend. It’s hard the Azoff’s live so far away; it would be fun for Harry and Grace to have their besties close by.

“I did. Gave him your gift and….. He sent something home for you.” Harry smiles like he has the biggest secret in the world behind his lips.

“I open it?” Grace asks with excitement.

“On Christmas, love bug.” Harry smiles, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

“Daddy? You be home for Christmas?” Grace’s eyebrows collide in nervousness, hoping her father will be home for one of her favorite times of the year.

“I’ll be home in two sleeps. Two days before Christmas.” Harry confirms, he watches as Grace’s eyebrows relax.

“O-tay!” She smiles, happy her father will be home to open her gift. “Sing me song?”

“How about a Christmas song!” You suggest, smiling at the cute boy on the opposite side of the screen.

“I think I can do that.” Harry clears his throat as he begins to sing.

“I'll be home for Christmas

You can plan on me”

Grace tilts her head on your shoulder, listening to her father’s deep voice. The song immediately brings tears to your eyes, thankful Harry will be home to spend the holidays with you and Gracie.

“Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents on the tree”

Harry’s voice quivers as he starts to become emotional, tears prick his eyes as he tries his hardest to hold them back. He continues to sing his heart and soul to his two favorite girls.

“Christmas Eve will find me

Where the lovelight gleams

I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams

I'll be home for Christmas

You can plan on me

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents on the tree”

Both you and your husband have tears running down your cheeks, wishing Harry could be home singing to them person.

“Christmas Eve will find me

Where the lovelight gleams

I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams”

‘Tank you!” Grace says. feeling her eyes start to droop as she feels sleep starting to drag her under.

“I love you girls butterfly much.” Harry smiles softly at his baby bug who is falling asleep.

“Wobe you butterfly… much.” Grace gets out, her eyes closing as she finishes her sentence.

“Happy Christmas girls.”

“Happy Christmas love.” You say.

Harry wipes a tear from his cheek, knowing he will be seeing his girls at home in his dreams.

A/N: I have the Best BETA in the world. @whoopsharrystyles is seriously amazing and I am thankful for her. Check out The Adventures of Harry and Grace Masterlist and my Wattpad Page. Thank you for reading, liking, reblogging, and recommending. Happy Holidays!

[d-r-ew]

Knicka is lazy. Can't even get off the couch. #sundaymornings #blacklab #labrador #labradorretriever #dogs #puppy #oldlady #knicka

[rowansensei]

Hi can I ask a question how to put scarves in my blog? thanks :)

Oh hello! So, is kind of simple to do it after you've read the instructions 3 times or more. Go here http://asongofwaterearthfireandair.tumblr.com/scarves because that's where I found everything. The list has the links for various scarves but for what I've searched some are broken. Go ahead and make your tumblr prettier ^-^