#she's so funny and gorgeous and she's got the loveliest voice

[waugh-bao]

Shirley comments on the Stones (1996)

[slut4weasleylolz]

Fred Weasley x reader (smut)

Late Night Secrets (Pt. 1)

LINK TO PT. 2: https://slut4weasleylolz.tumblr.com/post/660900353814953984/fred-weasley-x-reader-smut

warnings: smutty smut

pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

location: Hogwarts

It was a Tuesday morning, and were in the Great Hall eating breakfast and talking to Luna about the color periwinkle. “I think periwinkle is quite possibly the loveliest word i’ve ever heard. Periwinkle…No wonder they named a beautiful flower after it.” she said, gazing into space with her big blue eyes sparkling like mad. “Periwinkle sounds like something you would call a fairy’s penis.” You say casually. She gives you a bit of a wide-eyed look. “In a good way!” You respond immediately. “You and Fred definitely belong together, it seems.” She said with a soft smile. “He would’ve said just the same thing.” She gave you a look as to say “i’m very happy for you”. You smiled and dramatically shrugged. “Ah, what can I say? Two idiots equals one blissful relationship.” You say matter-of-factly. Luna giggled as Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Seamus came to the table for breakfast. Obviously Fred sat next to you, placing his hand on your thigh and squeezing lovingly. “Mornin’, darling.” he said right before practically deep-throating a spoon full of grits. “Morning, love.” you responded, stacking flat cakes on your plate. “Sleep well last night then, Y/N?” George asked innocently, a smirk playing on his face. The boys at the table sniggered quietly, a blush creeping over your cheeks. “Very well, thank you. MUCH nicer than creepily eavesdropping on people with my fellow horny, lonely friends. Wouldn’t you agree, Freddy?” You ask rhetorically. “I think you’ve got a point there, Y/N, that sounds bloody miserable” Freddy sarcastically exclaims. The boys of course were giggling because Fred asked you to sneak into his room that night for a little….after school fun.

The previous night….

you snuck past each door as quietly as possible until you reached Fred, George, and Lee’s room. Lee and George were out for the night on a double date at The Three Broomsticks. You did the secret knock you and Fred agreed upon, allowing him to open the door and pull you in discreetly. You didn’t usually ever dress sexy, so when you planned secret, forbidden rendezvous such as these, you tried to give him a little spice. You were wearing a huge black t shirt with sweatpants and crew socks, and a gorgeous set of purple lingerie underneath. You couldn’t wait to see his reaction. “So funny bumping into you here. Do you attend school here as well?” He asked with an adorable little smile. “No, actually me and Filch are having an affair and I came to break this off. We’re in love. Sometimes Mrs. Norris even joins us.” You said, slowly pushing him back towards the bed. “Bollocks. Although, i would love to see that monstrosity.” He said chuckling. You laughed quietly and continuing pursuing him towards his unmade bed. “You couldn’t have at least made the bed? Molly would be so disappointed.” You said, sarcastically scoffing. “Well, love, we’re going to make a mess in it anyway, won’t we?” He said in almost a whisper, a huge grin on his face. You chuckled as his knees hit the bed, causing him to sit down and pull you into his lap. He slowly and sensually started kissing you, making you hotter by the millisecond. He brings both of his big hands down to your ass squeezing running his hands all over it. He moved his hands to your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly. After a little while of making out, he brought his hand up under your shirt to touch your boob, causing him to feel the lingerie you had on. “Oh i’m going to sleep so well tonight.” He said, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning his head back and doing the “score!” movement with his free hand. You threw your head back in laughter, then went back to making out. You could feel the bulge in his boxers slowly begin to grow, so you lifted your hips a bit and started grinding down directly on top of it. He grabbed your ass again and helped you move back and forth, hissing lightly when you hit a good spot. “Great warm-up. Let’s get to the show, shall we?” You say, grinding once more then pushing his back down on the bed, his erection very prevalent now. You slowly took of your shirt, then sweatpants, revealing your lingerie at last. “I think my stiffy just got a stiffy.” he said, eyeing you up and down. You giggled and walked crawled back on top of his, allowing him to run his hands all over you. “I love this color. Maybe I ought to get one of these for myself.” He said, running his finger along the hem. “I agree, although i’d be a bit scared you’d look much better in it.” You replied, causing him to giggle. “Not possible, darling.” He said in a low voice with a sweet little grin, making you want to ride his dick into the next millennium. He pulled you back down and began feeling your boobs and occasionally rubbings his hands over your bare thighs, squeezing gently. You moved down to his boxers, pulling them off and allowing his erection to pop out. You slowly started pumping up and down, watching his head fall back in pleasure. You almost moaned just WATCHING him. You pressed your lips to the tip, kissing it softly. You swirled your tongue around the tip a few times before licking a stripe up his cock. You took him whole into your mouth and sucked up and down while looking him in the eyes, driving him crazy. You did that for another minute or so, your jaw crazy tired, until he came in your mouth, which you didn’t love but also didn’t really mind. He kissed you passionately and pulled you back onto his lap, squeezing your ass so hard you were figured it would it left marks (you weren’t complaining). He pulled the panties of your lingerie aside, rubbing you gently. “Are you alright? You ready?” He asked sweetly. You pecked him on the lips and held on to his shoulders. “Give it your all, Weasley.” You said, smirking, getting a sexy, low chuckle out of him. CONT. in pt. 2 !!!

[beetlebitchywitch]

If you want more incubus beej requests what about one where he makes you squirt for the first time and just can’t get enough of it. Include all the kinks you want! (preferably have a bratty reader tho) there is no such thing as too much

yoI’m so glad someone finally asked me for squirting bc I’m a kinky bitch and I have a problem

Warning: overstimulation, dirty talk, lil bit of a daddy kink but not much, one lecherous, horny incubus, but also feelings and stuff because I have feelings and Beej has feelings too

It’d been about a month since you’d started “feeding” Beetlejuice, and you learned very quickly to let go of expectations. 

Your first night with him, you came...6 times? 7? Honestly, you lost count. You personally felt that Beej was being a little gluttonous, but the way he smiled up at you from between your legs...well, you could stand to let him feast now and again.

He disappeared for days at a time, usually, and often returned either drunk or roughed up. You never asked what he got up to, and frankly, you didn’t need to know. You were his feeder, and you were comfortable with that.

...Oh who the fuck were you kidding. You adored him, and your heart broke every single time he left. But he made you feel wanted, and sexy, and loved, even if he didn’t actually love you. You could deal with it. You could handle this! 

You couldn’t handle this. 

But again, being with Beetlejuice taught you not to hold onto expectations. You didn’t expect him to, but...maybe he’d exceed them. Someday. 

When he did finally reappear, it’d been 6 days since you’d seen him. He was sober, thankfully, and only a little dirtier since you last saw him, so you figured he hadn’t been up to anything as wild as you expected he usually was. You glanced over your shoulder and smiled at him from your place at the sink, your sudsy hands dutifully scrubbing at a plate. He smirked, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his fingers spreading out over your tummy. 

“Mm, you smell good, baby,” he purred, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “Been too long since I’ve had you.”

“And whose fault is that, hmm?” you asked slyly, continuing to wash your dirty dishes. “Where’ve you been?” 

“Takin’ care of some Netherworld business, babes, you would not believe how rowdy people can get down there. But now that I’m here...how’s about you let Daddy take care of you?” He trailed kisses over the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands trailing down to your thighs. 

“How’s about you let me take care of these dishes?” you retorted. Of course, you tilted your head to the side to allow him more room for his ministrations. “Some of us have breather responsibilities, you know? Jobs, chores, dishe-mmph.” God, his mouth was fucking sinful. 

“And you wanna be thinkin’ about all that breather shit right now?” he whispered, his breath rushing hotly over your skin. “When you could be thinkin’ about me?” You sighed happily, leaning back fully into his embrace as you wiped the remaining suds onto your jeans. 

“Alright, you hungry bastard, upstairs,” you commanded with a chuckle. With a celebratory whoop, he swung you up into his impatient arms and rushed up the stairs, pressing tiny kisses to your laughing lips. He tossed you unceremoniously onto your bed and crawled on top of you, letting his hands drag over your hips. 

“Mm, you look good enough to eat, snack,” he groaned, nipping at your lower lip. “And I am fucking starving.”

“Better hop to it then, hotshot,” you chuckled breathlessly, already rushing to remove your clothing. “Unless you don’t have it in you?”

And oh, that got the loveliest growl to rumble in his chest, his claws poking dangerously into your skin as he clutched your hips to drag you against him. 

“Don’t fuck with me, feeder,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous and wonderful. “You know what happens when you get bratty.”

“Oh, do I?” you teased. Of course you did, and you needed it right now. “Must’ve forgotten. Why don’t you remind me? Unless you have more ‘Netherworld business’ to deal with...” Beej laughed darkly before snapping his fingers, getting rid of the rest of your clothing. 

“Who gives a fuck about the Netherworld when I have my sweet, warm little feeder who needs a good fuck to remember who she belongs to?” he said with a smirk, spreading your legs open to deeply inhale the absolutely intoxicating scent of your arousal. “Ngh, baby, if I wasn’t already dead, I’d want to die between your fuckin’ legs.”

“Very sexy, babe, Jesus Chriiiiiiiiifuck-” because he buried his face into your pussy and began playing you like a goddamn fiddle, and far be it from you to keep it to yourself. His tongue flicked so perfectly against your clit before he dragged the flat of it up the length of you and you clutched at his hair and groaned because fuck, you missed this. You missed him.

He groaned as he ate you out, digging his sharp fingertips into your thighs as he tasted you greedily. You tasted so sweet, and with every swipe of his tongue he felt crazier and crazier for leaving you alone for so long. 

“Fuck, Beej, so good,” you moaned, grinding your hips into his mouth. 

“Good? Pfft, this is small potatoes, snack cake,” he said, his lips shining with your wetness. “Want Daddy to give you more, hmm?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Say it.”

“Beej...”

“Say it.”

“Daddy, please, I need more!” you groaned, frustrated by the fact that his mouth was so goddamn close but still not touching you. “Wanna cum so badly...wanna feed you...”

“That’s what Daddy likes to hear, sweet thing,” he groaned before diving back in in earnest. He plunged two fingers into you, curling them against the exact right spot while the tip of his tongue circled your clit and you were cumming before you could even process it and-

You heard it before you felt it. As you came, you squirted on the sheets and your thighs and Beetlejuice’s face and you couldn’t stop your legs from shaking. For a moment, he paused, the shock evident on his face as your cum literally dripped from his lips...lips that quickly spread into a gigantic grin.

“Oooooh fuck yes,” he groaned loudly, quickly laving his tongue over your clit as he began to finger you in earnest, pulling a scream from deep in your chest. You were squirting again, and again, and again, and each time Beej just cooed against you, encouraging you to give him just one more. You trembled violently beneath him, each orgasm falling just over the edge of too much, but you fucking loved it. You loved how eager he was to taste you, to practically drink you dry each time you came. You’d never been fucked so well in your life and you couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering incoherently. 

“Beej, fuck, it’s so much...” you mumbled, arching your back as he drove his fingers mercilessly into your G spot. 

“Come on, feeder, one more for me, I know you can, God I love you so fucking much-”

Fuck. Fuck. 

You threw your head back and shrieked as he pulled one last orgasm from your aching body, pleasure mingling with pain as you squirted into his mouth, making him groan as he ground out his own orgasm against the mattress. When he finally pulled his fingers out of you, your sheets were absolutely soaked, as was Beej’s blissed out face and his overworked fingers. His eyes were wide and almost panicked, blinking rapidly as if realizing the exact words that just came out of his mouth. Your chest heaved with every deep breath you took, attempting to center yourself after that onslaught of pleasure and-

“Did you just...?”

“No!” he cried defensively, refusing to meet your gaze as a pink hue crawled its way through his hair. You beamed, feeling your heart swell as his hair betrayed him. You’d never seen it turn pink before. 

“Yes, yes you did! You said you loved me!” you cried out, grabbing at his shoulders to pull him up so you were face to face. 

“OK, so what if I did?” he stammered, hurt finding its way into his voice. “What, you gonna kick me out now? Send me packing because the big bad demon fell in love with yo-”

“I love you too.”

“Because I’ll go, it’s fine, it doesn’t matter how I feel...wait, what?”

“I love you too, you fucking idiot, come here,” you said, pulling him into a firm kiss. You felt the tension in his body melt away as he pressed himself against you, your fingers tangling in his hair. 

“Babes...you really mean it?” he asked as he pulled away. 

“Of course I mean it!” you laughed, rubbing his cheek with the pad of your thumb. “I was afraid you didn’t mean it!”

“Didn’t mean it? Come on, Y/N, have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you’re so goddamn sweet, not to mention that you don’t mind that I’m a demon...how could I not fall for you, sweets?” 

You shook your head in disbelief and dragged him in for another kiss, holding close as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. Everything you wanted was suddenly right in front of you and it overwhelmed you nearly to the point of tears. 

“I love you so much,” you whispered against his lips. He sighed happily, pulling you as close as he could, content to just feel your warmth against you. 

“I love you too, babes...always.”

Hi I got r e a l l y corny because I’m feeling some feelings but I hope that satisfied your need for squirting ok bye

[daniclaytcn]

crush 1/2

Hey, @high-seas-swan ! I was your secret santa! I’’m terribly sorry that this is so late and that I’m only posting one part of it. I suddenly took ill yesterday and I couldn’t get out of bed, let alone write. I hope you like the story! AUs are not my strong point but I did my best. I’ll try to post the next part as soon as possible.

If Killian is being honest, the whole reason he meets Emma Swan is all because of those damn Pop Tarts.

 He doesn’t normally get unholy cravings for junk food at strange hours, but there’s a first for everything, Killian supposes as he enters the grocery store at 9 pm, pulling his beanie down over his eyes self consciously, hoping desperately that he doesn’t get noticed. The last thing he needs is for a line of fans asking for his autograph. And Killian, soft hearted fool that he is, can never bring himself to deny them.

 He’s studiously browsing the selection of Pop Tarts like any normal, functioning adult, when someone steps beside him, saying, “I recommend the chocolate ones. They’re pretty damn awesome.”

 Killian freezes in place for a moment before turning to look at the owner of the voice. It’s a young woman who looks to be about his age. She’s bloody gorgeous, with her long golden curls and sparkling green eyes. Killian does his best not to stare, feeling heat creep up the back of his neck. She doesn’t seem to recognize who he is, thankfully.

 “The chocolate?” he manages to get out, hoping his blush isn’t too obvious. She nods.

 “They’re perfect for anyone with a sweet tooth.”

 Killian picks up the box and offers her a smile. “Well, thank you for your input, Miss…?”

 She smirks and he does his best to look innocent, knowing his attempt to find out her marital status wasn’t exactly subtle. She doesn’t seem offended though, so there’s that.

 “Swan. Emma Swan.”

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you then, Swan.”

 Emma grins at his use of her last name and tips her head in a nod, picking up her own box of Pop Tarts and walking away. Killian stares after her for a few moments, a dazed look on his face. He isn’t one to develop schoolboy crushes, especially not at his age but damn.

Emma Swan is truly the loveliest woman he’s met in a while and although he’s only talked to her for about thirty seconds, Killian can’t help but hope he’ll see her again.

 When he heads back home, Pop Tarts in tow and sits at his laptop, he can feel the writer’s block that had plagued him for the last couple of days slip away. Killian types away for the next couple of hours before he finally gets up, stretching his limbs, to gorge on the sugary snack that he definitely has no business eating.

 (It’s delicious.)

 “Henry, I got your snacks,” Emma calls out as she shuts the apartment door behind her. Her twelve year old son is curled up on the couch with a book, other novels of  the same series scattered around him. Emma grins when he doesn’t even lift his head, clearly engrossed in what he’s reading.

 She clears her throat. “Kid.”

 Henry looks up, then. “Oh, hey, mom,” he puts his book down and jumps off the couch to relieve her of the snacks. Emma glances around at the cluttered living room and sighs.

 “Let’s clear this mess up and then eat, kid.”

 Henry grumbles, but does as she says gathering up his books in his arms to put away. Emma picks up the one he missed, idly flicking open the cover and her jaw drops.

 The photo of the author, Killian Jones, is the cute guy she met in the grocery store.

 “Oh my god,” Emma mutters. Henry will never let her hear the end of it he gets to know that she ran into his favorite author and didn’t even get him an autograph. In Emma’s defense, he didn’t really look like a bestselling author. Sure, he was ridiculously hot, but in an adorable kind of way, with his rumpled hair sticking out from under his beanie and his bright, absurdly blue eyes. Of course, this explains the deer-in-headlights look on his face when she spoke to him. He was probably afraid of being recognized.

 Shaking her head, Emma puts the book down. Really, what were the chances that she ran into a famous author at a grocery store of all places? It sounds absurd and she’s sure that Henry would be skeptical if she told him.

 Well, there’s no use dwelling on it.

 It’s not like she’s ever going to see the guy ever again.

  Between working on his novel and attending fan conventions, Killian barely has any time to think about Emma Swan.

 But once everything has settled down and his only real responsibility is finishing the final draft of his book and taking care of himself (he’s incredibly bad at the latter, and he’s sure his brother would give him hell about it if he were here.), Killian finds himself visiting the store where he met Emma more and more, clinging on to a rather pathetic hope of seeing her. He feels like a bloody teenager with a crush and knows he should’ve asked for her number when he met her, but here he is.

 And a couple of weeks later, Killian actually does run into her.

 It’s not at the grocery store, but in a bookshop run by a dear friend of Killian’s, Belle French. He stops at the counter, chatting with her, when Emma Swan sweeps into the shop past him, her blonde hair swinging over her shoulder.

 Killian makes some kind of hasty excuse to Belle and ignoring her knowing smirk, he hurries after Emma.

 “Hello, Swan!” Her body stills and when she turns to face him, to Killian’s relief, she at least seems to remember him.

 “Oh, hey,” Emma gives him a kind of hesitant smile, fiddling with her bag. “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”

 “This happens to be one of my favorite haunts, Swan.”

 Emma laughs. “I guess it would be surprising if it weren’t, seeing as you’re a writer and all that.” At his stunned look, she smiles sheepishly. “I didn’t really who you were until I got home and saw my son buried in one of your books.”

“Ah, I see,” Killian chuckles. “It’s rather refreshing to not be recognized, I suppose. You have a son, you said? How old is the lad?”

 Emma smiles proudly. “Twelve. His name is Henry. He loves reading, and he loves your books even more. In fact-you’ve got to give me an autograph for him. He’ll be furious if he knows that I met you and I didn’t get him an autograph.”

 “Well, we can’t have that, now,” Killian pulls a notepad out of his pocket and grins at her incredulous look. “Writer, love.”

 Along with his autograph, Killian leaves a little message for Henry. After a bit of hesitation, he writes his number on another sheet and hands both pages to Emma. She raises a brow at it.

 “You’re subtle,” Emma says drily. Killian laughs nervously.

 “You can’t blame a man for trying, love.”

 “Look-“ Emma hesitates and Killian feels his heart sink. “I’m really not-I’m really not up for dating right now. You’re really sweet, but-“

 “That’s alright, love,” Killian interrupts. “I suppose I was too forward, anyhow.”

 “No, no,” she reassures him. “You weren’t, I’m just-not ready, I guess.”

 Killian nods. “I understand, Swan,” He really does. After he lost his wife, Milah in a car accident, he’d been in a terrible place and it had taken almost five years to even consider dating again. “I would, however, be honored to have the pleasure of your friendship.”

 Emma’s eyes widen and she looks rather suspicious. “Really?”

 “Really,” Killian confirms. “I may be a bestselling author, but I don’t exactly have a lot of friends, and I’d love to have you as one. I solemnly swear that I will not attempt to woo you-unless you wish for it, of course.” He waggles his eyebrows at her and she rolls her eyes.

 “Keep dreaming, buddy,” but she’s smiling, and clutches the papers a little tighter. “But, uh, thanks for the autograph. Henry will be over the moon. Speaking of which-“ she checks her watch. “I’d better pick up Henry’s book for him now if I don’t want to be late for work.”

 “Which book?”

 “One of yours, actually. The book which was released lately.”

 “Ah. Well, I hope he’ll enjoy it,” Killian says. “I must be off, myself. But I trust I’ll hear from you soon?”

 Emma laughs and shakes her head. “Sure thing.”

 Killian heads home and nothing can take the wide, goofy smile off his face for the rest of the day.

 He might not have gotten the right to court Emma yet, but he has gotten her friendship and that in itself is a true gift.

 “You met Killian Jones?!” Henry nearly screeches.

 Emma smiles at his excitement and holds out the autograph wordlessly. Henry takes it almost reverently, his mouth hanging open as he tries to process the news.

 “What was he like?” Henry asks breathlessly.

 Oh, you know. Hot, kind of adorable and he sort of asked me out. But none of those are appropriate answers. Emma shrugs in an attempt to be casual. “He was…interesting.”

 Henry is no longer listening, too absorbed in the autograph. Emma grins and leaves him to it, shutting herself in her room before she takes out the sheet of paper with Killian’s number on it.

 If she’s being honest, the idea of dating him is pretty appealing. He’s cute, funny and clearly interested in her. Emma knows that by societal standards, she’s crazy for saying no. But something about the way she feels drawn to this man and finds herself laughing and smiling in his presence a bit more than usual is dangerous. The last time Emma opened her heart to someone, it backfired in the worst way possible.

 She can’t take that risk again.

 Killian had taken her by surprise, though. Few of the men who have asked her out over the years were interested in nothing more than getting into her pants. But this man-he took her rejection gracefully and even asked for her friendship, to boot.

 Emma hesitates for just a few minutes longer before she messages him.

 Hey.

 It’s Emma, from the bookstore.

 It takes a few more minutes, but he responds.

 Hello, love. Good to hear from you.

 Emma grins widely at the reply, firmly ignoring the flutter in her chest at being called ‘love’ even over text.

 Henry was thrilled with the autograph.

 Killian replies immediately.

 Glad to hear it! How does he like the new book?

 He just started it, which probably means I won’t get a peep out of him till tomorrow morning.

 Well, that’s quite flattering. :)

 Emma snorts at the message, shaking her head.

 Someone’s got a big ego.

 Guilty as charged, love.

 They text for a while longer, but Emma has to cut the conversation short soon so she can see about getting Henry’s dinner ready. But long after, and through dinner, Killian lingers on her mind.

 It’s nice to have a friend. Emma doesn’t have all that many. If she thinks about it, she can only count David, her partner in the BPD and his wife, a sweet school teacher named Mary Margaret. They’re both perfectly lovely and are like the family Emma never had, but she never got along with them as quickly as she is with Killian.

 The thought should worry her, but it’s only friendship, so it’s going to be okay, right?

 (At least, Emma hopes so. She has a habit of screwing up all her relationships.)

 When she’s getting ready for bed, she receives another message from Killian.

 You mentioned a job, but I still don’t know what your chosen profession is, Swan.

 Emma stifles a laugh at his over-the-top way of asking about her work and replies.

 I’m a detective in the BPD.

 He sends her a shocked emoji in reply and Emma can’t hold back her laughter this time.

 That sounds exciting! Got any intense cop stories for me?

 That depends, are you going to be entirely unoriginal and use them in your books?

 I would never!

 Well then, there was this one time…

  When the phone rings, Killian looks up from his computer in interest, hoping it’s Emma and sinks a little in disappointment when he realizes it’s only his editor.

 He’s developed a fairly good friendship with Emma over the past week. Their constant texting might be distracting him from his work, but at least he’s finished the final draft of his book, right? They talk about every topic imaginable-from perks and cons of their jobs to their plans for the Christmas holidays-which are three months away. (She’ll be spending the holidays in Boston itself with Henry. Killian will have his brother, Liam and his wife, Elsa, visiting him.)

 It’s been a good week.

 “Good evening, Tink,” Killian greets his editor. She’s become a close friend over the years and her services as his editor have been invaluable. “Did you read the draft?”

 “I did,” Tink says. “And I noticed something pretty interesting.”

 Killian frowns and opens up the draft on his laptop. He doesn’t think there is anything particularly extraordinary in it. “What did you notice?”

 “It has a bit of an emotional tinge to it,” Tink observes. “Your stories tend to focus more on the plot and as such, but there’s more emphasis on the relationships, this time. Particularly the romantic ones.”

 Killian shifts uncomfortably. He has an inkling of why that happened. “Is that a problem?”

 “Oh no, not at all,” Tink assures him. “It’s just…did you meet someone recently?”

 Killian winces. He’d been dreading this. He loves Tink, he really does, but her love for match making can be…trying, at times.

 “Maybe,” He says evasively and then quickly, before she can question him further, “But how was the draft?”

 “Good,” Tink says briskly, all business now. “It needs plenty of tweaking, of course, but this has great potential, Killian. It could be your best book yet.”

 Killian sags in relief. “That’s good to hear.”

 “Mm. Well, I’ve gotta go. I’ll send you my thoughts on it later.”

 “Thanks, Tink.”

 “No problem.” She hangs up and Killian stares at his phone with a grin, feeling excitement bubble up in him. His best book yet…that certainly sounds promising.

 He messages Emma immediately.

 Swan!

 Her reply comes almost immediately. What?

 I have wonderful news. My next book is coming along pretty well.

 I’d be concerned if it didn’t. You are a professional writer, after all.

 Hush, Swan, why can’t you be as enthused as I am and congratulate me?

 And feed your ever growing ego? Perish the thought.

 Killian frowns, and calls her.

 “Must you be so heartless, Swan?”

 “Always,” comes the cheerful reply. “I’m sure you have thousands of fans building up that pride of yours…someone has to bring you back down to earth.”

 “I’m starting to rethink my offer of friendship, love.”

 Emma laughs and the sound makes his heart jump. “Too late, Jones. You’re already in way too deep.”

 “I suppose I am,” Killian mutters with a sigh.

 If knowing Emma for but a week already has him blushing like a schoolboy at her calls and having her on his mind all the time, then, he’s bloody well buggered, isn’t he?

 It would be so incredibly easy to fall in love with her.

 And Killian isn’t sure if he wants to stop himself from doing so.

  “Mom, who are you texting?”

 Emma freezes guiltily, fingers hovering over her phone. Henry, of course, still has no idea that she’s struck up an unlikely friendship with his favorite author. She knew she had to tell him at some point, but she just couldn’t figure out how.

 It seems he’s beat her to it.

 “Killian Jones,” she mumbles and Henry’s eyes go wide.

 “What?” Before Emma can protest, he snatches the phone out of her hands and stares at the chain of texts in amazement. “Mom! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

 Emma shrugs helplessly and holds out her hand for her phone. Henry gives it back before launching into an interrogation.

 “When did this start? Why are you guys texting anyway? Did he tell you anything about his new book?”

 Emma patiently answers all these questions as well as she can. At the end of her explanation, Henry’s eyes are shining with excitement and he’s practically bouncing in his seat.

 “Mom, you’ve got to invite him over for dinner.”

 Emma blinks in surprise. “Henry…” she begins. “He’s a busy man, I don’t think…”

 Henry waves his hand impatiently. “He can’t be all that busy if he finds the time to send you funny cat videos, Mom,” Emma blushes at that and Henry continues, oblivious to her embarrassment. “Mr. Jones is my favorite author. It’s not fair that you’re the only one getting to talk to him all the time!”

 Realizing that there’s no way Henry’s going to let up on this and having a feeling that Killian would be all too delighted to come over, Emma relents with a sigh. “Fine, kid. I’ll see what I can do.”

 “Yes!” Henry bounds off his chair and hugs her. “You’re the best, Mom!”

 Emma smiles and kisses his hair and begins to think that this may not be such a bad idea, after all.

[letterboxd]

Pop star.

Dominic Corry heads to the AFI Fest screening of Natalie Portman’s new film Vox Lux, then hears what the Oscar winner has to say about it.

In Vox Lux, late 2018’s other pop star drama, Natalie Portman gives one of her rawest ever performances as Celeste, a global superstar about to embark on a huge tour. Even among fictional singers, Celeste has a unique backstory.

The first third or so of the film chronicles how a young Celeste (played by English actress Raffey Cassidy from Tomorrowland and The Killing of a Sacred Deer) barely survives a high school mass shooting. At a memorial for her fallen friends, she performs a song with her sister, and it goes viral. A manager (played by Jude Law) takes notice, and Celeste is on her way to Taylor Swift levels of idolatry.

The film then jumps ahead two decades to 2018, with Celeste now played by Natalie Portman. In a high-concept casting gambit that ends up working extremely well, her teenage daughter Albertine is also played by Cassidy.

Like in A Star Is Born, there is a resentment-laden relationship with a talented older sibling, Celeste’s sister Eleanor, played in both time periods by the ethereally ageless Stacy Martin (Nymphomaniac).

But ultimately Vox Lux treads a very different path to Bradley Cooper’s smash hit. This is an intensely intimate film that culminates with a spectacular meltdown and an arena-worthy pop star performance from Portman, who absolutely kills it performing songs written by prolific pop music genius Sia. It’s rare that “fictional” hits sound so convincing.

Raffey Cassidy and Natalie Portman in Brady Corbet’s ‘Vox Lux’.

Vox Lux was written and directed by Brady Corbet, who first came to prominence as an actor in films such as Gregg Araki’s Mysterious Skin (2004) and Michael Haneke’s 2007 remake of his own Funny Games. Vox Lux is Corbet’s second film behind the camera, following the 2015 period drama The Childhood of a Leader.

With Vox Lux, he ties tragedy and celebrity together in a thorny character study.

Following a recent screening of the film in Los Angeles, Portman got on stage to discuss making Vox Lux. Here’s some of what she had to say:

On what drew her to the role: Natalie Portman: It was an incredible opportunity to play a character that I’d never had the chance to play before. And also to work with someone like Brady who I think is incredibly talented and interesting and full of great ideas. And then also, I think a lot of the themes are really relevant to the world we live in. It feels like a really accurate portrayal of what it’s like to live in this moment in history, which feels very specific in a way that I hadn’t seen reflected before.

On how she approached the character: The biggest part of the character was the writing. Brady wrote such a specific character that felt so rounded and just like a real human being. Sometimes she’s really authentic and sometimes she’s totally fake. Sometimes she’s cruel and sometimes she’s gentle. And sometimes she’s performing and sometimes she’s being. It was really just remarkable reading it. So I feel like that really provided a great blueprint.

On whether or not she discussed how to approach Celeste with Raffey Cassidy, who plays the younger Celeste: We actually didn’t and I think that was intentional for Brady because he really wanted them to be different characters. Because she’s really changed obviously from this innocent young woman at the beginning and then we catch her after twenty years of hard life and I loved the fact that he chose to skip that period because we all know how to fill it in, we know plenty of, you know, the hard times of a pop star, the rocky road until their resurrection, it’s such a familiar tale to us so we don’t have to see it.

On working alongside Cassidy, who also plays her daughter, Albertine: Raffey’s remarkable. We didn’t rehearse together, we just started working together. The first time I saw her as young Celeste was when I saw the finished film, so to see how she could modify her performance so subtly [as Albertine] and really be believable as two completely different characters. I really thought Brady was nuts, I was like, “Are you sure? You’re gonna make me stand next to the actor that played me in the beginning and try to make people believe that we’re the same character?” But Brady was really convinced about it, and I think it’s so powerful in the film. I think we still often see our kids as versions of ourselves, and how we relate to them with all the self-hatred and self-love, alternately, or sometimes all at once. And then I think it’s just so powerful to have it embodied, the entire time she’s with her daughter, she’s also with her younger self. Both as what that means for everyone experiencing parenthood, but also for the film to see both of these versions of this woman together. I think it works because it’s like a metaphor but it also works literally. She does such a great job of acting. You do always believe that both characters are different people, but she holds within her both characters, so there’s like a doubling of meaning all the time.

On working with Jude Law again: Jude is just one of the greatest actors. His voice in this is different than I’ve ever heard. It has such amazing resonance. He is again also one of the kindest most wonderful people I know, a real major talent. It was very lucky ’cause this is the fourth film I’ve been in with him. We worked together for the first time on Cold Mountain almost twenty years ago, and then Closer, and we both were in the Wong Kar-Wai film My Blueberry Nights, [but] we didn’t have scenes together. So I’ve known him over the course of like, twenty years. We’ve never been like buddies or hanging out or anything, but I’ve worked with him and so it was lucky going into this that we had a history and comfort level to play off of, so like day one, I already felt at ease.

On performing songs written by Sia: It was incredible when I received the script to have the Sia songs with it, I remember getting an email with these attachments of the songs, and she sings them herself on the demos so of course they’re just gorgeous. Beautiful, beautiful songs, really great pop songs so I knew that it was realistic, because if you read a script and it says “and then she writes a hit pop song” and you don’t see the song, you’re like: okay good luck getting that. But it was clear from the beginning that it had this incredible music. And then getting to record it was really fun, because I got to work with [longtime Sia collaborator] Chris [Briade] who’s incredible and just the loveliest person. To see what they can do, they’re the real artists, they can do so much magic to make things sound like what we’re used to hearing.

On how she prepped for the lengthy song and dance performance finalé: Physically it was a lot of preparation, I worked with [movement coach] Raquel [Horsford], I worked with my husband on the choreography, across like a month. I actually prepped the film twice, because the night before, I think I was on my way to the airport, the first time, and they were like, “Turn home, the financing has come apart”. The movie was cancelled and I had prepped everything. When everything got pulled back together again it was a few months later, even though of course it was relatively recent in my memory, I had to kind of start over. So that was kind of nice because it gave me a longer time to prep, and a longer time to sit in my head and my body and all that.

So physically, it was dance training, physical training to have this endurance, and then emotionally I kept asking Brady if I should be kind of ‘off’. She’s had this massive breakdown, she’s had this drug experience, and he was like, “No, she’s out of it but she’s a professional, and she’s done this a million times…”.

She can handle it to the point where the audience isn’t aware that she had a drug-fuelled meltdown minutes earlier. So that was really informative in terms of the headspace, that she can kind of enter a space and leave everything behind her. Which is an interesting key to the character too because there’s a certain kind of erasure that I think must have to happen.

‘Vox Lux’ is in US theaters now.

[harrysdimples]

sooo...it’s the legend @btapants’ birthday and me and my main partner in crime daria @britneytshirt both came up with this idea and whipped up a lil somethin somethin for celine to read! we just want you to know how loved you are celine and how you influence us all to be better people! we all love you and had a few things to say :)

@bidonnas (aka mik):  i followed celine like ages ago bc i was looking for more harries to follow and she seemed so sweet and, like, a Quality™ blog and we've been mutuals for ages as well and we like sent each other asks for like ask games and tagged each other in tag games but we didn't start talking more until the first gc in like march of this year and i do not regret a single thing of entering that gc bc i got to meet my birlfriend, now my bife. we've just gotten closer over the past 6 months of being in so many different groupchats with each other and i love everything about her. she's funny, she's kind and sweet, and she loves mamma mia. i mean, who could ask for more?? fjdkgksdljkfg celine deserves the whole world and all the love in the world and i love her so so so much!!!!

@guccifloralsuits (aka violet):  Celine, you already know it but literally love you tons, you make my experience as a harrie stan so much brighter :) I'll always remember the #funkirk days and times we've been throught - from the discourse days to the crazy concerts & I can't wait to see what this next year for you & us brings! You're so easy to talk to and fun to share this experience with! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALL MY LOVE TO YOU 💖

@annaonvinyl (aka essie): Celine, Celine... I believe we've been mutuals not for that long and i do remember checking my notifications and seeing that she followed me i kid you not when i say i nearly had a moment because i would constantly see her posts and people talking so nicely about her. i can now understand why people kept saying sweet things about Celine, i mean she's amazing! if you aren't following her please do me a favour, go to her blog and press that follow, just... do it. celine is so sweet and funny, her blog is the perfect mix of aesthetic and relatable and not to mention she's so freaking stunning? i mean... have you seen her? model material, i'm telling you. so in conclusion what i want to say is celine is gorgeous and so nice and i love her! tanti auguri bella! spero che tu abbia un bel anno davanti a te e tutto il meglio vada per te! goditi la giornata e sorridi molto (scusa il mio italiano arrugginito)

@signofthebis (aka petra): Happy birthday, Celine! ❤❤❤ You know why I followed you. Because of the tags you wrote under my bta pants gifset. And I knew in that moment... this is a person that gets it and I need her in my life. And then I was lucky enough to get into the biconic gc you started and I got to get to know you and wow? You're amazing. You're so funny and incredible and just... I stan forever??? You're truly a queen. ❤❤❤❤ One day your selfies are gonna kill me because you're that gorgeous. And honestly? What a way to go. So Celine, I hope you're having a wonderful day and may your life be filled with only the best of luck, may it be full of love and kindness because that's what you're giving to us and you deserve the same it in return. Ily ❤

@flowerfeasts (aka dani): I followed celine like a year ago because i used to see all my faves tagging her on my dash, so i thought she was very important and cool and i remember waiting like a few weeks to follow her cause i somehow thought that would increase the chances of her following me back? lmao anyway, i still think she is very cool and i LOVE her fashion sense and she is a libra! that means she is awesome

@harryandcats (aka lejla): CELINE MY ANGELBOO!!!! I’m sooo bad with words and tbh?? there’s not enough words to describe how much u mean to me anyway smh you’re one of the sweetest, funniest and smartest (let’s just not mention your posts and the things you say something BDJDNDNDB) and loveliest people I know!! you’re also so silly sometimes but in a very cute and endearing way bdndn I could talk to you about literally anything, be it something deep or something random like poptarts bxjdndn speaking of poptarts we truly gotta meet someday and you’ll have to buy me lots of things and in return you’ll get the biggest hug of your life!!!! sounds like a plan if you ask me anYWAY I lov u with my whole heart, you’re my love, my life, my wife, my gf, my bitch, my boo, but most importantly: my dumbass ✌🏻😔 I hope you have the loveliest day!!!! Happy Birthday, Celine!! 💗🌈💕

@harrysnotechanges (aka kristyna):  Celine 💕💕 you are so funny and such a kind and generous person (not to mention gorgeous, ugh it’s not fair). I’m pretty sure I first started following you because of your url (I mean how much more iconic could you get,,, and I couldn’t agree more, the bta pants were the best pants Harry has ever worn tbh) and I stayed because you’re just an amazing human being. Ily 💕💕💕 Happy birthday!

@gettingdizzy (aka sav): I LOVE CELINE she is super kind and funny and like a little sister to me!! talking to her always makes my day better :) im not even sure why i started following her we probably got put in a gc together or something but im so glad i did!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILY

@nofoookingway (aka jess): Oh boy, lil Celine. The cutest bean I’ve ever seen. I know we don’t speak anymore bc I’m trash and got too overdramatic about a stupid lil thing, but I’m so glad that we still follow each other and I see you on my dash every day. Your posts never go without a typo, even if it’s just the tags, and that’s probably my favorite thing about you. You’re so expressive and so weird in the best of ways. I’m pretty sure you’re starting uni (if you’re not smack me), but I know you’re going to kill it. It’s hard af, and it’s gonna suck. You’re gonna hate it sometimes, but believe me when I say I know you can do it and that you will have a blast once you find your niche. If I can do it, you sure as hell can. I wholeheartedly believe that. Anyways, I hope your birthday is just as fun and amazing as you are. ilysm 💛💛

@leesh (aka leesh lol): HAPPY BIRTHDAY CELINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope u have the absolute best birthday ever bc it’s what she deserves and i hope harry makes an appearance again looking absolutely fabulous bc it’s also what she deserves (maybe wearing the bta pants? yes i’m putting it into existence!!!!). i honestly can’t rmbr how or why i started following you, maybe it was a gc or maybe i just liked ur blog, i have a terrible memory, but i am SO GLAD whatever the reason I DID. i love seeing ur posts on my dash and i love seeing what you’ve got to say and i also love talking to u in gc’s and stuff. ur a cool gal and i’m glad we had a chance to become mutuals and pals. again i hope u have the best way day ever and get spoilt rotten. i love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💖✨

@kiwiintro (aka kayla):  Happy Birthday Celine Bean! I hope it's amazing I love u and you're so iconic and amazing and ur an actual Meme™️ sometimes anyways again I hope your birthday is amazing and have fun being 1(one) year older ❤

@harryftvans (aka teresa): celine my dearest witch princess and gentle air spirit happiest of birthday wishes to you!!! someone’s getting old lol anyway I wish u all the best and hope you have a great day and that a lot of other great days will follow because u only deserve happiness and love and ~good vibes~ in your life!! stay ur amazing self, you’re always so chill and laid back (which is nice in this hectic world gksndn) and even when you pull a zayn on us at the end of the day you’re always there for us, being supportive and it’s always a delight to talk to you and hear stories from you!!! great britain is blessed to have you for the next couple of months/years (hope u have a nice time at uni I believe in u) so yea enjoy your day hope it’s filled with lots of love and hugs!! i’m glad you’ve been brought into the world and i’m glad we were out in the same group chat I couldn’t imagine my days without u, love you v much💕

@pinkflaredpants (aka iris): No offence but it's been a whole ass year since we first heard medicine and still no fuckin studio version of sott.

@britneytshirt (aka daria): celine, remember the day we became mutuals? it’s definitely been a year(+) now, can you believe it’s been that long? i followed u not really expecting to be followed back and u followed me about .02 seconds later and honestly i was a lil shocked. so i put my insecurities aside and decided to text u and u said u just saw my url and liked it and followed me. like?! *harry voice* craziness right? anyway, i like to think of u as a little present from life. when we started talking i was very lonely and literally cried myself to sleep every other night and having a friend, you, to talk to made me realise nothing is ever that bad and in a way... gave me hope? you mean so much to me. you’re always fun to talk to, u always have the funniest things to say. and most importantly, i know i can always count on u for whatever, you’ll be there to listen to me. so thank u. i’m so grateful i have a celine in my life. i love u

me (aka moi): so....celine, where do I even start? from those very first few months when I joined this fandom in september last year we were close friends. we started our first conversation about old 1d memes and the rest is history. I don’t think there’s been a time in the last year or so where I haven’t spoken to you, and I really couldn’t imagine my life without you in it. I look forward every day to chatting with you in the gc and i’m always just in awe of how accepting, loving, caring and truly inspiring you are as a person. I love hearing you speak italian in the rare voice messages you send, and especially your selfies (I will hold the belief that you should be a model to the grave I think tbh). you inspired me to love myself for who i am and we’ve grown as friends into something I never thought i’d reach. i’m never going to be able to fully articulate the weight you hold in my life or the impact you’ve had on me, and i’m bad at expressing my feelings anyway, but I just wanted you to know how LOVED you are, by me, and from everyone here. I can’t wait to eventually meet you once you’re settled over here and I can’t wait for the memories and shows we’ll make in the future. thank you for being you, and please never stop being your amazing self 💕

[whistlewhileiblogit]

Red Flags/Gut Instincts

Here I go, ranting again.

But if you meet someone, anyone, and you get a funny feeling from them?

Go with your gut.

If you have been getting to know someone for say, a few months, and they suddenly say something that seems alarming.

Go with your gut.

Even if you have known a person for years. Maybe in conversation they say something troubling like, "I want to test (friend/partner/whoever) to see how much they care", I can guarantee, you are better off breaking off a years-long friendship than enduring that sort of manipulative, abuse behaviour.

People may think that is cold. And maybe it is. But I have seen and experienced people showing red flag after red flag and ignored it. And guess what? It never works out in the end.

That girl you think is kinda cute admits she wants someone that will completely dote on her, but she refuses to do the same to her partner?

That guy you like gives you a sob story about all his "crazy" exes?

The friend you have had for fourteen years doesn't listen to you when you try to explain your personal grievances to them?

DITCH THEIR ASSES.

I promise you, red flags are always real. If you get alarm bells going off for any reason, trust your instincts.

Trust them, because I wish I had.

I know what it's like to have blind faith in people. I did for most off my life. Someone every now and then might have said "hey, so and so is a bit of an asshole, Rom, Dick and Harry have all said so" and I'd be confused and wonder why they'd think that. Because so and so was always nice to me, they didn't seem like the type of person to be an asshole right?

I could give example after example, but I will give a true, personal, and probably tmi story.

So I'd been seeing this guy for a short while. And already we both were super into each other. We had spent almost every day together, literally staying awake all night to go on night rides and "aventures" (at least they were to me). I looked at this guy, this gorgeous guy, and I thought he was perfect. Perfect for me. He treated me so well. Better than anyone had before. And he was genuine, and honest. And he actually seemed to really like me. On these night drives, we'd talk about everything, and I mean everything. Stupid stuff, our interests, deep 'n meaningful things...things neither of us shared with anyone else. We'd jam out to music (particularly our shared interest in early 2000's "emo" music), and I'd laugh as he'd put on some heavy metal and headbang. We would often park near a beach or wharf, and we'd hang around there throwing rocks in the water, chatting some more, and sometimes he would pull his guitar out from the boot of his car and play music for me. More than once he did this while we sat in the back of his car and watched the sunrise together.

I felt like I was in a movie. It was so perfect. Too perfect, yet I never once bat an eye.

Until I got what I realised was my first major red flag.

So, now comes the tmi part. But I swear, it's necessary for the story.

So once night we were parked somewhere in his car again, just hanging as usual. Now, before this night, we hadn't done...well, anything save for giving each other hickeys one night. But oddly enough we hadn't even actually kissed yet. (both very shy)

Anyway so this night he finally kissed me, which was a big deal for both of us but especially for him because he'd never made the first move on anyone before (or so he told me, I can't actually confirm). And long story short...we had sex.

To clarify, this was a massive deal for me, (and supposedly him too but again, can't confirm) because I am very...picky when it comes to who I sleep with. Idc if people choose to sleep with loads of people but I personally can only ever sleep with someone I really, truly care about. So this is my long winded way of saying that I cared about this dude...a lot. And again, I believed he felt the same way. But I was especially nervous, because it had been only a few weeks. I'd usually wait much longer.

Anyway, so after that night, everything kept going fine...until a few weeks later, and surprise surprise, we were having sex again. And he suddenly stopped and said, "hey...you don't think I'm jist using you for sex, right?"

I was stunned. Where the fuck had that come from? My first reaction was, "what the fuck? No? Why would I think that?" to which he replied, "I've just had someone accuse me of that in the past." and I sorta went, "Oh okay...well I don't think that" and that seemed to settle his concerns.

And this was where I genuinely felt my first red flag pop up. A little voice in the back of my head was telling me something wasn't right about that. Why would he think that I thought that? And why bring it up and such an...inopportune time?

But, stupid, heart-eyed me just shrugged it off. I suppose I figured it was his anxiety, or insecurities showing or something.

But here's the kicker; four months down the line he suddenly didn't want to see me anymore because he "wasn't ready for a relationship". But we stayed friends (keeping in mind there was still flirting and light sexting going on in this time) because I stupidly thought that maybe down the line somewhere, he might be ready. And even if he wasn't, I didn't want to lose such a great guy as my friend. I just wanted him.to be happy, after all. A few months after that? He sent me snapchats of his new girl IN HIS BED POST...ugh. You could imagine.

Anyway, I don't tell this to get pity or whatever. But take it as a cautionary tale, if you will. If I had been smart, and listened to my gut, not my heart or my pussy (graphic but true), I wouldn't have had my heart broken. I may have been bummed out that things didn't work out with the hot guy I really liked... But I wouldn't have gotten nearly as messed up as I am now.

And honestly? I'd be lying if I said I didn't still have feelings for him. All this messed up shit, and I can't even bring myself to be proper angry with him...because of my feelings.

But if I can prevent anyone from taking a stupid risk like I did? Then maybe it'll be worth the hurt.

I mean it; the SECOND you have a friend, colleague, partner...who the fuck ever- give you red flags or bad vibes... Just do yourself a favour and avoid contact if you can. We have these instincts for a reason, and so many of us choose to ignore them just to give someone the benefit of the doubt, but is it really worth it?

If you think someone you met at a bar is creepy and you don't want to be alone with them? Don't be out of politeness.

Who knows? Creepy Gary from the bar might actually be the loveliest man you've ever met, but is it worth running the risk that your gut is screaming "something isn't right with this guy!"

I'd much rather be a little embarrassed over getting a judgement wrong rather than ignoring my judgement and getting hurt.

And let's be real; how often are your instincts wrong?

[harryimaginedstories]

A lucky Man

Hi friends! Hope you enjoy this blogmas story.  Summary: Y/N is frustrated because what on earth is there she could get the man who seemingly already has everything?

Request: Yes.

The picture is truly the loveliest sight I’ve seen in a while.

 Annoyance was a heavy weight in my chest and I slapped my laptop shut, without pausing first to close the dozen taps I’d browsed in vain. Absolutely and frustratingly in vain.

Plenty of magazines lay on the table before me, some of the printed items were circled and others crossed out, but even the few I’d marked weren’t ones I really believed could make a good present for him. And besides, shopping off of magazines seemed very old school and who knew how long it would take to arrive anyway? But there was nothing I liked online either. I sighed, let my head fall back and my eyes shut. For fuck’s sake. Christmas shouldn’t be so difficult. There was a dull ache at the back of my brain, clearly due to staring at a screen for hours with no end as the certainty that this year’s winner of the ‘worst girlfriend ever’ prize would be me, pulled me under a wave of disappointment. I knew I was mostly at fault for my stress, since Harry didn’t worry too much about presents and what he would receive. As a child he’d stayed up all through the night before Christmas with the excitement making his tummy sick, and once he’d been allowed he’d opened the biggest of his presents first and with a wide smile on his chubby cheeks.  But with growing older and becoming an adult that excitement lessened and transformed into another kind: He became a giver himself. He loved to buy and then decorate thoughtful gifts for his friends and family members, spent hours to write and draw little cards for each of them, and cared hardly at all about what he’d get in return. Since late November Harry was busy getting presents (several for each of the people he loved) and he had most of them wrapped and ready by now. Me on the other hand? Not quite. I had a couple small presents for my family, and even those still needed to be wrapped, but none for his mom and sister or my friends yet. And most importantly: I didn’t have Harry’s gift yet either. And that was the one that was seemingly the hardest to find. Just as I was about to bang my head against the wooden table the door to my flat opened and shut with a heavy thud. Footsteps were heard, somebody’s shoes were kicked off and soon Harry’s playful voice called for me. “Honey, I’m home!” He snickered at the joke and my heart warmed. I turned to see him walk towards me and reached out my arms as an invitation for a hug. “Oh, darling,” he chuckled and I sighed happily when my face pressed to his stomach while his arms secured themselves around my shoulders. He smelled really nice and the fabric of his warm jumper was comfortable against my cheek. I’d missed him more than I’d realized, and it hadn’t been more than three hours since we’d spoken on the phone. “You okay?” I shrugged and shook my head against his tummy. “Christmas is annoying.” Harry squeezed my back to him before releasing me gently and pulling out a chair to sit down by my side. His eyes drifted to the magazines on the table before he turned to look at me, bearing a confused expression.  The back of his hand caressed my cheek. “What’s all this about, love?” “Can’t tell you,” I groaned. My head leaned into his palm and I reached out to hold his free hand in mine, finding comfort in the simplicity to have my boyfriend near, especially since he was gone so often. Our fingers intertwined and he smiled when I turned to look at the rings decorating most of them, the metal warm against my skin after he’d been wearing them all day. “Why can’t you tell me?” He wasn’t worried, we were talking about a couple magazines laying around after all, but he didn’t quite like me not telling him what was going on. Normally I always did and often Harry would pride himself for knowing absolutely everything about his girlfriend. I raised his hand to my lips and gave it a soft kiss. “Because you’re my boyfriend,” I hummed against his knuckles, “And that’s kind of a problem.” Taken out of context the words would’ve hurt him, but the smile I wore soothed and chased away and doubt. “But m’not only your boyfriend,” Harry argued with a small frown on his lovely face. I knew what he meant and I wanted to tell him though when I turned to stare at the useless magazines and my shut laptop, all the disappointed in myself rushed back. It wasn’t the smartest move on my part to wait until now with looking for a present, but to be fair I was pretty busy. That and... well, I’d known that looking for something would take forever and be difficult, something I tried to both avoid and eventually forget. My eyes found his again and I giggled when he made a big deal to turn his body and face mine, giving me his undivided attention. The white shirt he wore suited him almost ridiculously well and my heart fluttered at how cuddly and hot at the same time he somehow managed to look. Bastard. “Tell me,” he insisted and I batted away the hand that reached out to pinch my nose. I giggled at him whining and squeezed the fingers I was still holding on to tightly.  “Okay, fine,” I gave in, ”But only because you’re right and you’re not just my boyfriend but also my best friend and it may sound silly but if you want me to spill you’ll have to be just my best friend for a minute.” The pink lips I loved so much, parted with feigned shock. “Are you saying you’re breaking up with me? Over magazines?” “Shut up.” “I mean,” he continued and I grinned when he visibly swallowed the chuckle fighting to leave his throat, “how insane is it that magazines can now even come between relationships as serious as ours?” I shook my head and let go of his hand so I could cross my arms over my chest. “You’re not funny.” The wide grin decorating Harry’s face forced me to smile as well. “Fine,” Harry agreed, sitting up straighter, “M’just your friend then.” “Good.” Oddly enough the moment he agreed to be friends, if only for the moment and mainly as a joke, the urge to kiss him, an urge I had to deal with at all times anyway, grew stronger. I pulled up my knees and brought them to my chest. How I survived months being just a friend of this gorgeous man I will never understand. “Tell me, bestie,” he giggled and I regretted my proposition the moment I noticed the cheeky sparkle in his eyes, the sparkle of a new joke he’d just come up with, “Would you say your current boyfriend is the best you’ve ever had?” “Fuck’s sake Harry!” He laughed. “What? We always used to have chats like this!” “And I recall you hating it and ending most of them with advising me to break off whatever I had going on with a guy.” “’Course and now you know why,” he grinned, “‘cause I knew I’d give it to you far better than any of those wankers you were wasting your time with.” “Fine, you know what? Now I’m not telling you shit.” I got up to move the magazines and my laptop out of the way and walked towards the kitchen. Harry’s loud huff made me smile. “Fine, fine!” his socked feet followed me to where I stood by the counter, preparing two cups of tea for us, “Promise I’ll stop messing around and listen to what you have to say. M’curious. What are you holding those at me for?” “They’re two different kinds of tea. Pick one.” His finger tapped the right box I’d held in front of his face. “Okay,” I began with a sigh and moved to prepare water, “Listen. You’re going to find it ridiculous and probably stupid, too, but I’m really struggling, Harry.”  “With what?” he wondered, brows knotted. The faint desperation in my tone had apparently gotten his attention after all. My kitchen felt awfully small as I moved under his watchful gaze. “I can’t find a present that would be prefect and thoughtful enough to be something my beloved boyfriend deserves.” His expression was priceless. First the cheekiness drained from his orbs, then the smile fell. “You’re shitting me.” I knew the next joke or cheeky comment practically begged to roll of his tongue, but it seemed that Harry noticed the tension in my shoulders and how I nervously played with the tips of my fingers. He reached out and touched my arm over the counter between us. “Y/N, that’s the silliest thing you could possibly worry about,” he insisted calmly. “It’s not,” I complained, “You have everything, don’t you? And if you don’t then you can easily just go and get it yourself... there’s like- nothing that I could get you that’s half as special or perfect as what I know you have ready to give to me.” Without saying anything, Harry got to his feet and walked over to stand by my side. He filled half his cup with cold tap water before holding it out for me to pour some of the freshly cooked in it as well. “I see where you’re coming from” he began, leaning his body against the counter, “I don’t agree, but I get it.” “I browsed the internet for ages,” I went on, relieved to finally spill my frustration to someone, “spent all of yesterday in shopping malls and found absolutely nothing! Not even the magazines have something I think you would like and I... I’m embarrassed. Because the few things I did find that you might enjoy are in those expensive stores you always go to and I couldn’t possibly afford any of them, even if I were to sell a kidney for it.” “Wouldn’t want you to go that far,” Harry chuckled, though I could tell by his tone that my worry didn’t leave him unmoved. Silence fell over us again and I waited with an uncomfortable weight at the bottom of my stomach for what he had to say next.  After a few minutes of us staring at each other, Harry nudged my hip with his playfully. “I love you a lot.” A cooing noise left my mouth and this time it was him who batted my hand away as I reached out to pinch his cheek. “Shut up,” he laughed, “What I mean is that it truly doesn’t matter if you get me something small or nothing at all. I know you think m’just saying that to be humble, and to be honest sometimes I am, but with you I mean it. Genuinely. And that’s not ‘cause I agree that I already have everything I want because of my money, or that I could go get whatever whenever, but because I have had everything I want every since you agreed to let me be with you everyday. You’re my girlfriend, at least usually you are, and that’s the greatest gift of all.” And there went the waterworks. A muffled “Oh, Harry!” left my mouth before I shakily set the cup in my hand down and instead wrapped both arms around his shoulders. My sudden affection came as a surprise to him and he tried to stop the tears from wetting my cheeks by kissing the skin of my neck and embracing my hips tightly. “I love you so much,” I murmured, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak properly. “Good,” he breathed, “S’that mean we can stop playing ‘just friends’ so I can kiss my girlfriend again.” “Yes,” I whined and hot lips found his jaw, “Of course. You’re the sweetest guy in the world, you really are.” His mouth ghosted over my mouth before he let his nose nudge mine. My hand reached to the back of his head and he moaned lowly, before finally leaning in to kiss me. Our lips moved quickly and with an urgency that made it feel as if we had been parted for more than either of us could bear. I held on to his curls and pressed my body against his, the familiar smell of his skin making me dizzy. The affirmation of his love for me made every inch of my body tingle with warmth and by the way he deepened the kiss and moaned my name I knew he felt it, too. A small giggle filled the room when his hands first tickled my sides and then moved to grab my bum.  I blushed bright red and broke away laughing. “Harry! Stop!” His chuckle followed and I moved my neck to make room for his face to nuzzle into the warmth. “You really don’t have to worry, baby. M’happy with a card or something. S’long as I got you to hold like this, m’a lucky man.” Even though I still didn’t have a clue what I would eventually place under the tree for him, the honesty in his voice soothed my worries. He deserved something good, something special and more than just a ‘you’re my girlfriend and now I’m happy forever’ kind of thing. I tightened my hold around his neck. “You’re the only guy I know who changes from a pain in the arse to the best boyfriend there is, inner seconds.” “Well, m’special, aren’t I?” “I still want to get you something, though.” And luckily I did find something in the end. I took Harry’s promise that he was grateful to be with me everyday, that he loved me and that he was happy ever since I agreed to be his, and got him the one thing that would ensure we’d be together for most of next year. I wrapped the airplane ticket that would allow me to fly out and then accompany him for most of his upcoming tour in golden paper, while he watched with a soft smile. It was when I lay it next to his neatly wrapped gifts that for the first time in years the same sense of excitement cursed through his veins and made his tummy flutter as it had when he was a kid.  He couldn’t wait to open that present, even though it wasn’t the biggest one under the tree.

Hope you enjoyed this!  I have a similar story about his the same problem but it’s his birthday right here: You’re My Favorite ( it’s not my favorite though and not very well written) 

Also: Masterlist 

And: Christmas Harry