she/her ʚ♡ɞ my hobbies include writing, reading, and sleeping ʚ♡ɞ I write for Harry Styles and HOTD ʚ♡ɞ requests: open ʚ♡ɞ i love responding to anons ʚ♡ɞ
i had and old chain of reblogs with my blog recs on it, but it got hard to navigate. furthermore, others deactivated their accounts or changed their urls. hence the new and improved version. so here you go (; 💐
@a-strange-familiar
@adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy
@angelrryslut
@astranva
@atlafan
@avatar-anna
@babyiamperfectforyou
@be-with-me-so-happily
@bugrry
@cherievol6
@cinnamongirlrry
@daaydreamy
@enchantedsoulofmine
@erodasfishtacos
@figinpleather
@finelinestars
@finelinevogue
@fkinavocado
@fluffrry
@foolforharry
@fruitmans
@goldencherryhazz
@gracierry
@hampsteadharry
@harry-writings
@harryfeatgaga
@harrygivenchy
@harryinsweats
@harryisalrightig
@harryisart
@harryistheonlyoneforme
@harrysdimples
@harrysfinelinevol1
@harrysfolklore
@harrysgloves
@harryshouse
@harrysmimi
@harrysonlylover
@harryssweatcreaturee
@harrystylesslutt
@harrytheehottie
@helladirections
@hotforharrysheart
@hrryscherry
@hslab
@iconicharry
@idkthisisjustforfanfic
@jarofstyles
@junetuesday
@kingstylesdaily
(I’m also aware most of you have been tagged by me before so sorry about that hehe)
omg tysm for the tag!! i’m sorry i did not respond sooner. i’m just seeing this as i have not been active for awhile. thank you for taking the time to read my writing and add me to this lovely list. <3
Hello! It’s been a bit since I’ve written, but I got the motivation to write today. This is just a cute little story I came up with. I hope it’s enjoyable. Let me know if you would like to see more from these two.
Story information: about 1700 words, meet cute, soft!Harry, female reader, cozy.
***
Harry has always loved the atmosphere of a coffee shop. For him, it’s the perfect mixture of chaos and calm that he thrives on. He loves to see the baristas working through the morning rush with candy coated voices and rushed feet. He knows they must be overwhelmed, and admires them for being so kind to him regardless. It was almost mesmerizing to watch them as they worked. They made art from coffee beans and milk.
He admits that he doesn’t pay much attention to what is happening around him while he is there. He usually focuses on whatever it is he has brought to distract himself during the trip. Sometimes that was a book– whether poetry or a novel– and other times that was his laptop. He’s just there as a way to dissipate any stress he was dealing with, and is unlikely to socialize with anyone but the barista.
Hello! It’s been a bit since I’ve written, but I got the motivation to write today. This is just a cute little story I came up with. I hope it’s enjoyable. Let me know if you would like to see more from these two.
Story information: about 1700 words, meet cute, soft!Harry, female reader, cozy.
***
Harry has always loved the atmosphere of a coffee shop. For him, it's the perfect mixture of chaos and calm that he thrives on. He loves to see the baristas working through the morning rush with candy coated voices and rushed feet. He knows they must be overwhelmed, and admires them for being so kind to him regardless. It was almost mesmerizing to watch them as they worked. They made art from coffee beans and milk.
He admits that he doesn't pay much attention to what is happening around him while he is there. He usually focuses on whatever it is he has brought to distract himself during the trip. Sometimes that was a book– whether poetry or a novel– and other times that was his laptop. He’s just there as a way to dissipate any stress he was dealing with, and is unlikely to socialize with anyone but the barista.
Today, he is in a very cheery mood. It’s Sunday, the objective best day of the week aside from Saturday, and his favorite cafe is having a sale on all holiday drinks. He usually wouldn’t come out in this type of weather. It's rainy and the ground under his feet is wetting his socks. He feels an ice cold droplet of water fall onto his neck and creep under his jacket. Another few fall onto his phone screen as he pulls it out to check the time. It’s 9:40. He picks up his pace in hopes of making it to the shop by 10.
As he takes the short walk, he is debating if cinnamon roll flavored coffee will really be as good as an actual cinnamon roll. He values every penny he makes, and doesn't want to drop five dollars on something that may just be overly sweet. This internal debate causes him to not pay much attention to the things surrounding him. Unfortunately, this results in him running straight into a briskly walking woman with large rolls of yarn in her arms.
Quite dramatically, the yarn falls from her arms and some of it unravels onto the dark, wet sidewalk. Harry’s heart rate instantly picks up as he jumps back from the woman.
“Oh no,” she groans. The speech comes as a long sigh, almost as if she has already been having a bad morning, and Harry just managed to make it worse.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” Harry stammers. His eyes follow the woman as she bends down to collect the yarn. He grabs two rolls that had fallen by his shoes, one teetering on the edge of his sneaker. “Here, let me get that.”
The yarn is damp, but missed any puddles. Harry carefully puts the rolls on top of the ones already piled into the woman’s arms. They are the color scheme of a landscape; deep browns and greens, vibrant blues, and some other unassuming colors at the bottom.
“Thanks,” she replies gratefully. “I should have gotten bags, really, but they wanted me to pay for them at the store.”
“No, no. I just should have been more careful. I’m sorry your yarn is wet.”
“That’s alright! They will dry.” She lets out the first smile Harry sees from her. Her cheeks rise, making her eyes thinner, and some small blemishes at the corners of her mouth stretch. She’s beautiful, he thinks.
“I’m not sure they will in weather like this.”
A few beats of awkward silence pass. This is where they are meant to tell one another to have a good rest of their day and go their separate ways. She’ll go home, dry her yarn, and do whatever else it is she needs to do, and Harry will continue to the coffee shop, kicking himself for the embarrassment he caused for them both.
The woman can tell that Harry is shy. He speaks very softly and evenly, and is beat red from knocking into her. He put his hands into his pockets the moment they were not occupied with helping her. He does it as if that’s their home. He is not still on his feet, and has shifted a few times already since their abrupt meeting.
“Um,” Harry starts, “I’m going to get some coffee not far from here. Can I treat you to something from there as an apology?”
The woman’s eyebrows raise. People usually are not this kind to her in person.
“Oh, uh,” She says, thinking. “I guess that would be fine. I love coffee.”
“Great. Can I carry some of that for you?” He brings a pointed finger from his pocket and aims it at the yarn.
“No, it’s okay. You just lead the way.”
“Okay, will do. And, what’s your name?”
They begin to walk beside each other in the direction the woman was coming from. It’s pretty empty out, likely due to the rain.
“It’s y/n. And yours?”
“I’m Harry.”
Y/n nods in response and they walk to the coffee shop in comfortable silence. Occasionally y/n will make a sound as she jumps over a puddle or the yarn switches position, but other than that, the only noise is their shoes squishing and splashing as they walk.
They make it soon enough, and Harry indicates their arrival with a soft “Here it is.” It’s a store front right by the sidewalk, with windows that allow you to see right in.
He graciously holds the door open, and they take a seat at a corner table. They each slip off their jackets and shutter at the sudden warm air coming from the vents. It feels nice here, and smells like newly made coffee. Despite living in the area, y/n has never been here before.
“This is really nice,” She remarks. There are paintings on each wall, all from different artists. They are abstract, but somehow go together like a puzzle. She wonders to herself if someone collected them over many years. They look hand picked and are beautifully arranged. Most of the seats are upholstered booths, but surrounding some tables in the middle of the shop are shiny wooden chairs. Every mug in front of each guest is different. The shapes and colors vary, but they are all approximately the same size. The place has an odd, homey, atmosphere that is rarely seen anymore.
“It is,” Harry agrees. “I come here almost every week.”
A barista comes to their table, which y/n was not expecting. Usually, there’s a counter to go to.
They order their coffees, and Harry gives enough cash to pay for them both. Y/n thanks him. While he pays, she takes a few moments to take a look at her companion. His brown curly hair is large and falls over his forehead a bit. He is wearing chunky rings and a singular necklace with a charm she cannot make out. Some bracelets peek out from under his sweater, which is faded and argyle in pattern.
When they’re alone again, she starts the conversation, “So, what made you start coming here?”
“Originally I came because it was closest to my house, but then I fell in love with it. The paintings really stuck with me.”
“Yeah. I noticed them as soon as I walked in.”
“Mhm.” Harry thinks for a moment. “I find something different in them every time I come. Sometimes it's simple, like an animal, and other times I find a metaphor for what I’m feeling that day.”
“Wow. I’m not sure I'm analytical like that. I just kinda see…color.”
Harry laughs. It's soft, quiet, and lovely. “Most people feel that way. Think of it as a talent– something you acquire just like anything else. One day the colors will start turning into images.”
“Okay. I’ll keep practicing.”
“Mhm. It’ll come to you.” A beat passes. “So, what is all the yarn for if you don’t mind me asking?”
Y/n hasn’t known Harry for more than an hour, but she feels like everything he says is meaningful and well thought out. It’s like he has someone sitting at a typewriter in his brain feeding him the perfect words and cadence. She feels heard. He doesn’t seem rushed, or bored, or preoccupied. He’s just there for the coffee and a conversation.
“It’s for a project. I like to crochet.”
“Ah, that’s nice.” Y/n can tell he means it. “I can never get the hang of it, but sometimes I buy crochet blankets from online.”
“It’s not too hard once you learn the basics! Really, I could teach you.” Y/n wonders to herself why she is offering to help him. It just slipped out.
“That’s very sweet of you. I may take you up on that.”
The same barista comes and drops off two steaming mugs. Y/n’s is green with different kinds of mushrooms on it, and Harry’s says “Live life to the fullest” over a cloudy background. They both take a short sip.
“That's good!” Y/n enthuses.
“Isn’t it?” Harry replies. “They make great coffee here.”
A loud ring that Harry doesn’t recognize sounds from somewhere near him. His eyebrows close into the middle of his face.
“Oh, that’s my phone.” Y/n explains. She takes a moment to read the screen and clicks off the sound. “It’s my alarm. I need to go soon and feed my neighbor's cat. She’s in Chicago for the week.”
“Oh, alright,” Says Harry. “No problem. Would it be okay if I had your phone number? I would hate for this conversation to end in just a few minutes.”
“Yeah, sure. Hand me your phone and I’ll text myself.” Y/n’s smile takes over her face again, and Harry loves it. Something about her draws him in, and he would like to figure out what. It’s a day of firsts for him. He can’t remember the last time he has asked for someone’s number.
At the thought of parting ways, Harry is a bit sad, and he hopes that when he texts y/n in a careful measured time from now, she will respond.
He thinks he’ll start by asking about that crochet lesson.
***
Thank you for reading!! I enjoy talking to you all, so if you have any comments, or just want to talk about your day, my ask box is open. :)
RHS Question of the Week 🫶🏼 Do you have any creative superstitions like for example you always have to write in the same place?
hi!! firstly, i would like to thank you for adding me to your authors list and reblogging my writing. it was awhile ago so sorry it took me so long to get to this ask.
to answer your question— no not really!! usually i drink some coffee and sit somewhere comfortable, but that’s about it
maybe write something where harry takes the reader on a trip to her favourite bookstore and she’s picking up all these books and harry can see how excited she is, but instead of her buying them harry gets there before her?
i love this <3
Harry would watch as you ambled around the store, a stack of thick books weighing down your left arm. You’d use the right one to browse, gasping and smiling anytime you found a book you’d had your sights set on. Harry enjoyed watching you in your element as he pretended not to be focused on you. Instead, he flipped through some post cards by the register to look busy.
Eventually, you’d whisper a gentle, “Harry!” to get him to walk over. He’d come, hands in pockets, and peek at the titles of the books you held. Some he recognized, some he did not. You beamed at him as you held up a book you had found, rambling on about how long you’d been searching and how, “The first book was so good, Harry!!”
He would smile back at you and make a mental note to give the book on your shelf at home a read.
When you eventually piled the 10+ books onto the register and walked away to use the restroom, he would quickly pay the bill, sneaking a funny postcard in there as well. You’d come out with wet hands ready to pay, only to realize the receipt tucked into one of your books was an indication that Harry already had.
You’d tell him that he really didn’t have to do that in a frantic tone, not wanting him to pay anything to feed your hobbies. He is adamant that he wanted to pay and that the happiness he sees on your face when around books is well worth it.
You walk out of the door, both of you holding large stacks of books, and both of you with a large smile on your face.
Banning abortions doesn't stop abortions. It stops women from getting safe abortions & forces them to look for other dangerous alternatives, putting more women's lives at risk. It is fucking evil that women's healthcare is being taken away from us. Pro lifers but willing to put millions of women's lives at risk by seeking out backstreet abortions & being forced to carry the pregnancy out full term. Today is a dark day to be a woman
