L

harry has nice ankles

[pop-punklouis]

hey daren rabinovitch:

[harrystylesdaily]

johnshearer: Kacey Musgraves, photographed waving to Harry Styles at the end of her sold out show at Bridgestone Area. Probably my favorite image from the evening!

[stylesnews]

Harry’s replies on twitter (8/11)

[letthewhispersunfold]

“I think she’s missed you”

“Good stretch, little one! Are you excited for Daddy to get home?” She whispers to her belly, running a hand delicately over the bump.

She was pregnant. Almost seven months, and today the little girl in her belly could not seem to stop moving. The belly she sprouts isn’t too large yet, but is still very noticeable. She suspects that the squirmy baby in her tummy is waiting for Harry to get home, usually his voice is the only thing that can soothe the little girl to sleep when she is especially active.

Pregnancy had done many things to her body, some things she had expected, other things had taken her completely by surprise.

She obviously expected the most noticeable thing of pregnancy. The growing belly. She longed to feel the full weight of her little girl growing inside her, wanting to feel the squirms and kicks as the pregnancy progressed. But she didn’t expect the growing skin to be stretched painfully taut, with the angry purple stretch marks that protested the growth. Sometimes the little girl would give particularly hard jab to her ribs, successfully knocking the breath out of her. All of these things were manageable, however, because of Harry. He caressed the swell between her hips often, many times just to say hello, but he also aided in rubbing the coconut scented stretch mark cream all over, giggling excitedly when his little girl stretched her foot into his palm.

She knew that her breasts might grow a little fuller in preparation to feed her baby when she finally gave birth, and she didn’t mind the fact. She needed some new pretty bras anyway. But she didn’t expect them to hurt, or grow two cup sizes. None of her shirts fit anymore, and even the smallest brush or nudge against her chest sent pain ringing throughout her body. Again, Harry helped. He insisted on taking her out shopping to buy new maternity clothes, she needed new jeans and stretchy shirts, and then new bras. But Harry was a menace. He pulled things off the rack that sent her squawking in disapproval, especially when it came to lingerie.

“Harry!” She would hiss at him, pulling the hanger out of his hands and throwing it back on the rack, huffing in discontent, “I can’t wear that!”

“Love,” he would respond, “You’re pregnant, not incapable of wearing nice lingerie. Please just try it on.”

Later, it was Harry huffing in discontent. After he led her to a private fitting room and demanded her to model all the clothes for him, she came out in a lacy number that pleasantly surprised him. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, clearing his throat, while stuttering at his beautiful wife half naked in front of him. He didn’t expect to get a hard on in the maternity store.

She expected to have some mood swings, with all the new hormones rushing into her body, but she didn’t expect different emotions to flood her like the turn of a light switch. Some days, she wanted nothing to do with Harry, the smell of his cologne or sound of his voice leaving her with extreme nausea and a headache. Other days, he was the only person to assuage her needs.

Today was one of those days.

She missed her husband. She hadn’t seen him in over two weeks.

Well, she had technically seen him every day. They slept in the same bed every night, and he always without fail would kiss her and the bump before he walked out the door every morning for work.

But she hadn’t really talked to him in two weeks, they hadn't had a date in forever and rarely ate dinner together anymore. She was starting to feel extremely lonely.

She knew she couldn't blame Harry, and she didn't. He worked day and night to provide for her and their little girl, but damn it if these pregnancy hormones didn't make her want to blame someone.

It especially hit her hard when he missed an ultrasound appointment. She knew Harry had marked it in his calendar, and that they had made plans to meet at the doctor's office, but it was when she was waiting on him for more than a half an hour she knew he wasn't going to make it, because he was never that late. She tried not to dwell on her growing disappointment, instead finding joy in hearing her baby's heartbeat and giggling over the new pictures. She called Harry from the car afterward, because it didn't occur to her until then that something might actually be wrong that's keeping him from the appointment. When he answered, he was completely distraught and infuriated with himself at the news.

“I'm such a horrible father,” he broke down into the phone, sitting in the hallway right outside his studio, “She's not even born yet, and I'm already letting you both down. Baby, I'm so sorry, I've just been so busy and exhausted trying to get everything done before she comes, you know I wouldn't-”

She interrupted him then,

“Honey, I'm not angry, I know things have been out of control lately with work, I'm just a little disappointed. We miss you.”

He choked out another sob when he heard her gently in the phone. The woman he committed his life to forever is far too forgiving and understanding of his bullshit. The rage he felt bubbling in his chest at himself overflows.

He vowed to make it up to her.

But when he got home at 10:30 that night with his shitty attempt at an apology with her favorite flowers, he found her already snuggled up on her side of the bed with a hand on her tummy, snoozing peacefully. He wanted to cry again at the sight, and tears finally flooded his eyes when he found the new ultrasound photos laying on his pillow.

That leads them to today. She woke up to the flowers and a sweet note promising to be home early, and she spent the rest of the day giddy with excitement. An hour before his expected arrival home, she takes a shower to ensure that she would be soft and clean from her deserving husband.

She steps out of the shower onto the squishy bath mat, and grabs her fluffy robe. Her post-shower routine soon follows: she brushes her hair, smooths her legs with her mango body cream, washes her face, and brushes her teeth. Soon after, she puts on a pair of pretty pink lace panties, after she had sat on the bed for support to wrestle them on. The closet looms in front of her, as she dreads finding a top of hers that will compliment her shape and leave her feeling comfortable. Tears spring to her eyes as she steps into the large walk in closet, all of her clothes look rough and uncomfortable. Instead, she quickly turns to Harry’s side of the closet, and smiles with closed lips. His clothes are home. She chooses an old, soft flannel, one that had gone through the wash hundreds of times. It was her favorite flannel of his, she loved to see him wear it, and she loved to wear it herself. She doesn't even try to button the warm fabric when she manages to get it on.

“If daddy leaves his tits out on stage most of the time, I think we can leave ours out around the house, what do you think baby?” she murmurs to herself in a giggle.

Just as she shuts her closet door, her ears perk up as she hears a lock in the door from downstairs. A grin involuntarily plasters her face, and she begins to run for the stairs.

As he puts the key in the lock, he makes sure to open the door slowly, to avoid any loud creaks or noises that would wake his missus up in case she was asleep. He turns around and shuts the door behind him softly, but before he can take his shoes off and hand his jacket up on the coat rack, he hears the footsteps running down the stairs. Before he can process what is going on he looks up to see his very pregnant, half naked wife come barrelling down the stairs. A grin plasters itself on his face as he opens his arms and engulfs his wife in an embrace.

“I missed you,” She whispers into his chest breathlessly.

“Oh honey, I missed you too,” He kisses the top of her head and smells her rose scented shampoo, inhaling deeply.

“No, I missed you H,” He looks at her in confusion but when she grabs his neck and forces his lips to her he understands.

She missed him like that.

One of Harry’s favorite perks of his wife’s needs was that at times she was absolutely insatiable and horny almost all of the time.

Harry couldn’t complain. Having sex all the time with the love of his life who was carrying his child and looking stunning while doing so? He was definitely forced to increase his stamina.

She breaks the kiss and looks at him with lustful eyes, “Come on!” and turns around with her hand in his, as she begins to run up the stairs.

“Love!” He squawks, “Please be careful! Don't move so fast.” She stops halfway up the staircase,

“Harry, I’m pregnant, not incapable of going up the stairs.”

“I don’t want you to slip and fall, just be careful okay?”

She’s out of breath by the time they make it to their room. Huffing uncontrollably, she drops Harry’s grasp when they reach the bed. She plants two hands on the comforter and swings her legs up over the mattress, rather ungracefully, and lands on her back with a thud. Harry grins at her lopsidedly.

“Harry!” She wines, reaching her arms out to him and squirming on the sheets.

He quickly toes his shoes off and discards his jacket, and he is able to stay in his right mind long enough to take his belt off preemptively before he joins her.

“C’mon honey, rest up against the headboard, please?” He is always worried about her comfort, grabbing two pillows and propping them under her neck and back as she readjusts. He knows that with all of the weight gain from her pregnancy she has been experiencing intense back pain, he doesn’t want to exacerbate it if he can help it.

He returns his lips to hers, and as they kiss languidly he moves to remove her (his) flannel from her shoulders.

As the kiss gains in intensity, Harry redistributes his weight over her. He grabs her legs and wraps them around his waist, plants one hand by her head to support himself, and rests the other lovingly over her growing belly. Right as he goes to pull away to rid himself of his shirt, she lets out a groan, and not one from pleasure.

“Oof!” Her hands fly to her belly, and she squeezes her eyes shut as it seems the wind is knocked out of her.

Harry immediately sits up, not sure of the discomfort she is facing, and his eyes widen immediately in panic not quite sure if he’s done something wrong.

“Love? Are you alright?” He tries to keep the tone of his voice even, but he’s sure he’s not doing a great job.

She finally opens her eyes again, a grimace on her face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” She looks up at him, reaching out for his hands and placing them on her swollen stomach, “Just feel. I think she’s trying to kick a rib out of place.”

He lays his hands against her warm and taut skin, and feels his daughter wiggling and moving around under his touch. He can’t help the smile that reaches his face, but he knows that this is the movement that is bringing his wife so much discomfort.

Harry couldn’t imagine holding the weight of a child in between his hips, rearranging his organs with every movement.

“Someone is active today,” Harry murmurs, a small smirk on his face.

“Yes, I think she’s missed you,” His wife responds. Harry’s face immediately crumples and his shoulders slump, reminded of his shortcomings recently as both a husband and a father.

“No no no! Wait, Harry! I- I didn’t mean it like that! Well, we do miss you but...” She struggles to sit up, grasping each side of his face in her hands, “I just… fuck!” She cries out, tears welling in her eyes. A sob rattles through her body.

“Honey, honey it’s okay…” Harry whispers gently as she cries into his neck, “Hey. Look at me please? Take a couple of deep breaths, I don’t want to stress you and the baby out.”

“I’m sorry,” She responds, face full of panic, “I didn’t mean–”

“Please don’t apologize,” He cuts her off, “I should be the one apologizing.” He presses a quick kiss to her temple.

“How was the appointment yesterday?” He forces her to look into his eyes.

“It was good,” She breaks out of his grasp to lean over to the bedside table and grab the day old ultrasound photos, “The doctor said she’s doing great and looking healthy, her heartbeat was so strong H.”

He smiles at her, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. She knows that he’s internally beating himself up for missing the appointment.

“They sent me an audio file of her heartbeat, remind me to play it for you later, yeah?” She tells him softly and he nuzzles his face into her neck.

“Okay,” he responds, “I love you so much, doll.”

“We love you too,” she kisses the side of his head, pulls his face from her neck and guides his lips back to hers.

[cgkcjkelfjsmsjj-deactivated2021]

Gemma is so done.

[letthewhispersunfold]

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Your voice sounds just like my phone sex operator’s voice.” “Excuse me?” She replies, absolutely appalled at the strangers comment. She is utterly confused on how she got into this situation, she had done absolutely nothing to draw attention to herself. Sat in the waiting room of the veterinarian's office with her dog (a seven year old golden doodle named Bella) she had just been studying for her organic chemistry exam, with headphones in. Beethoven's “Fur Elise” was her mantra for everything. Whenever she was studying or working out, the song helped her calm down and focus on whatever task was at hand. But then, she had this prick tap on her shoulder and spit this misogynistic comment at her. All she had done was reach down to pet and comfort her pup, who always got nervous at the vet’s office. Any remaining whisper of calm left from “Fur Elise” has evaporated from her body. “Yeah,” the asshole responds with a chuckle and a smirk, “Her name, is Janice. She’s got the sexiest voice in the world, second to yours of course. Always manages to get me hard when-” “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” A third voice chimes in. She turns around abruptly, thanking the heavens that someone is coming to help defend her. She was never fond of confrontation. A boy, about her age, was standing there holding his fluffy cat. It’s obvious by the expression on his face that he’s just as puzzled and enraged by the disgusting comments this stranger has felt the audacity to announce to the whole office. “Is that how you pick up all your women? By berating them and making them objectified and uncomfortable? How about next time you take a gentler approach, like, I don’t know, maybe a hello first? Ask her about her dog maybe. Also, where the fuck is your pet? Why are you even here? This is a vet’s office you know. Not some sleazy bar that you are probably used to.” He rages all of this in a very short amount of time, and the entire office goes still. The receptionist is already speed walking around her desk, to diffuse the situation. “Sir,” she points to the offending stranger, “If you don’t plan on doing any business with us while staying appropriate, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Or I can call the police. It’s your choice.” The older man’s face is flush with embarrassment, and the vein on his neck is protruding offensively. Before anyone else is able to respond, he gets up abruptly and walks out the door, slamming it shut on his way out, making the bell attached to the top ring loudly. The receptionist turns around promptly and walks back to her desk. “Jesus Christ,” the girl whispers, clutching her dog’s leash and headphones close in her hand. She is still so taken aback by the whole situation, and not sure of how to process the encounter that occurred just seconds before. The boy moves to sit next to her with the cat perched in his lap, a few seats away. He looks into her eyes, “I know this place isn’t necessarily on the best side of town, but I assumed that it’s because the costs here are cheap. I didn’t expect to people taken advantage of. I’m sorry that happened to you.” She smiles into her hands in her lap, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She assumes he can feel her embarrassment radiating from her chair, so he’s quick to change the subject. “Who do we have here?” He says leaning down to Bella who has her face rested on her paws on the floor. He readjusts the squeaking animal on his lap, “Is it okay if I pet her?” “Oh yes of course!” She responds flustered, “Her name is Bella, she's a golden doodle. So a mix between a poodle and a golden retriever.” He reaches down to scratch behind her fluffy ear and pat her head. Bella lifts her head up and wags her tail excitedly. “Ah I see. So she has the coat of a poodle and the athleticism of the retriever. Does she take the intelligence from both?” “Yes! She’s an amazing dog.” Both of them turn their gaze to the dog on the floor, where Bella soaks up the attention. Only about ten seconds of comfortable silence go by before the cat in the boy’s lap squeaks a loud meow. “Oh hush, you big baby.” He looks down at the disgruntled creature, “I can’t love on any other animals besides you?” She gives the kitty a big smile, “Who do we have here?” She asks the boy. “His name is Genghis. I got him off of craigslist, so I’m not sure what breed he his, but he likes to talk a lot that is for sure. My name is Harry, by the way.” “Nice to meet you Harry. Do you mind if I pet him?” She asks politely. “You can try, he is just a little wary around strangers, but he isn’t a biter so you should be - oh,” He’s interrupted by Genghis’ loud purring. When he was talking, she reached her hand out tentatively to the cat, and he immediately rose his body into her hand and started purring. Harry is shocked, it seemed that in all his years that he had Genghis, Harry was the only one he could truly tolerate. Genghis only purred in the comfort of their own home, under the covers in Harry’s soft bed. “That’s amazing! You must be some sort of animal whisperer.” Harry looks at the girl with such a shocked expression. Her only response is a giggle, as she scratches behind the cat’s ears. All of a sudden, Genghis stands up out of Harry’s lap, and hops over the two seats into the girl’s lap where he promptly curls up and falls asleep. “He likes you more than me! I can’t believe this, I guess I just have to keep you around, huh?”

[dunkirks]

Dunkirk animated movie posters

[hilarioushumorfromouterspace]

[harryshouse]

harry: *shows sign of life*

harries:

[letthewhispersunfold]

the hogwarts houses as emojis

gryffindor: ⚔️

slytherin: 😈

ravenclaw: 📚

hufflepuff: 🍩

[awesome-picz]

Seals Are Actually Ocean Puppies.

[woodelf68]

Myth: Confirmed!

[letthewhispersunfold]

"How do I passively-aggressively say 'fuck you' in a cake?"

To say it was a slow day at the bakery was an understatement. Harry had never worked on a day with almost no customers. There were always a few that would come in needing to pick up an order, or to say hi to Barbara, or something. Harry lets out what he intends to be a loud sigh, but it ends up coming out more like a raspberry with how his hand is propped under his chin and by the way his lips are smushed together. With no customers ringing the bell above the door, he figures he better get caught up on his bakery duties other than manning the register. But it was after he already does everything that he needs to do, and then some, he gets really unamused. He filled all the orders for the coming week, filled the showcases, organized the back fridge, swept the floors, done the dishes, Christ, he even straightened the labels on the dishes holding the pastries. He swears he’s never been so unstimulated in his life. Harry is soon starting to doze off into his hand, after he’s been waiting for a good fifteen minutes staring out the window. There are only so many different London skies to see before you’ve seen them all, and he stayed up too late last night and he’s just so tired…

Before he knows it the bell above the door is chiming and the loud swoosh of air and cold draft overtakes him, he jumps in his seat, and the beanie on his head falls down a bit from the sudden movement. A young girl, about his age, charges into the store, and before he can even wake up or try to process what’s going on she’s slamming a 20$ bill onto the counter in front of him, “How do I passively-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in a cake?” She’s staring at him with glaring eyes, and he’s so shocked by what’s happening he’s left speechless. “I… uhm..” he stutters out, completely at a loss for words. She doesn’t look like she’s messing around, but he simply doesn’t know how to respond. “My boyfriend of a year and a half has been cheating on me for months… I thought I’d get a cake to let him know I found out… Maybe you could write a mean message for me? Or m-maybe I can smash it in his face.” Tears start to glimmer in her eyes as her confidence spurred from anger subsides and Harry’s stomach clenches. Harry can’t believe this. Even if he did write something obscenely offensive on it, it would still be too nice. Even if she smashed it into the blokes face. No way. She’s got to be the sweetest person he’s ever met. “You want to buy your douchebag of an ex a cake?” “I.. I-uh, well,” she lets out a watery sigh. He takes a moment to really look at her, and she has tears welling up in her eyes, “Now that I’m here it seems stupid, I’m sorry for bothering you, you probably have better things to be doing.” She puts her face in her hands and scrunches up her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, I-I’ll go now,” she whispers, obviously crying. Harry is furious. Not at her, but at the asshole who made her feel so awful. Harry is exasperated at the thought of anyone cheating in a relationship, but especially with this girl who seems too sweet and compassionate to deserve such mistreatment. When she turns to leave, Harry knows he has to do something, “No!” He shouts, startling her, she looks back at him with wide eyes, her jumper falling off her shoulder. “Shit! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I just, do you want a cupcake?” Smooth, Harry thinks to himself. “Sorry?” She questions him. “I just made some cupcakes, do you want one? I can make you some hot chocolate and we can go sit if you want, you’ve had a rough go of it today huh?” “Oh I couldn’t,” she smiles sadly, “I don’t want to interrupt your job or anything-” Harry laughs at that, “I promise it’s okay, it’s not like we’ve got a full shop, right?” He gestures to the empty tables in the front of the bakery, “Unless you’ve got to be somewhere or something.” “No, I can stay,” she responds pulling out her wallet, “How much is a cupcake and a hot chocolate then?” “Don’t worry it’s on me,” he grins at her. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to have to take it out of your check.” Harry is already on the way into the back room to get their treats.

Harry learns a lot about her. Simply put, he is just infatuated. He’s captivated by every word that comes out of her mouth. Her voice is hypnotizing, it drips like warm honey and his ears buzz with delight. He learns that she’s in love with animals, specifically dogs, and that she wants to go to veterinary school in the states to fulfill her lifelong dream. She tells him with a serious face that dogs are like people to her, and that every time she sees one on the street or with their head out the window, she makes an effort to wave at them and tell them hello. She’s probably one of the most giving people he’s ever met. Obviously, she doesn’t speak directly about this, but he picks it up from her various stories when she was younger. Once, during finals week, she gave her favorite Spanish teacher a Christmas gift every day until it was time for break. When she got her first job, she dedicated her first paycheck to buying all her baby cousins cute onesies and pajamas. She organized a clothing drive at her school for the homeless shelter in her city downtown. How can she be real? He learns about her family situation, her abusive mother and alcoholic stepdad, and when her eyes pick up a watery gleam, he quickly changes the subject. He doesn’t want to see her cry again. How can someone take advantage of such a sweet person? She’s got cartoon ducks on her purse for Christ's sake. Harry has been so caught up in listening to her undividedly he doesn’t notice how much time is passed or the fact that the sun has gone down and the streetlights have come on. It’s only when she gives out a cute yawn, and stretches her arms above her head, (while lifting her shirt in the process and exposing her tummy and cute belly button, making all the blood in Harry’s body move into the crux of his thighs) that he realizes that they should probably end this soon. He glances at the clock, his eyes shooting wide open before he snaps his head to look out the window. “Shit!” He exclaims, bolting out of his chair and almost slipping onto the ground in the process. “What?” She responds exasperated, “Is there something on my face? Do I have frosting in my hair? Christ not again, I can’t believe how many times that’s happen-” He gawks at her for a moment before chuckling quietly. “No love, I promise you look wonderful. It’s just- shit, I was supposed to have the shop closed down almost two hours ago.” “Two hours ago?!” She all but screeches, “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, shoo Harry! I’ll get out of your hair I promise.” He opens his mouth to argue, but she doesn’t give him a chance, resting her soft hand gently on his shoulder, she looks him in the eyes and gives him a kiss on the cheek and a sweet hug. He takes little time in wrapping his arms around her waist and savoring the feeling of their bodies pressed together, but before he has time to really take her in, she’s already pulling away. He’s blushing, for sure. “Go on Harry, thank you for everything.” She smiles at him shyly. He awkwardly stares at her for a moment, before turning around and running to the back of the shop to start on the dishes and nightly duties.

Barbara is going to kill him, he concludes as he walks out of the back well after closing time. He’s shrugging his apron off and wrestling his coat on when he notices something on the front counter next to the register. He steps over quietly and picks up the note. “Thank you for the treats, they were almost as sweet as you were.” At the bottom of the note, her name and number are signed, and Harry actually physically pumps his fist into the air. He starts to put the note into the pocket of his jacket, when a ten pound note falls out and flutters to the ground. Another note is attached to the bill. “Hope this covers the cupcake and chocolate.”

Harry’s fucked, she’s got him wrapped around her finger.

[harr-y]

[tigerthightat]

★

[anchoredlou]

[headrest-for-my-soul]

I’m losing it

[hunrry]

| Another Man |

[headrest-for-my-soul]

IM FUCKING DEAD

[whiteknightonasteed]

The moment it happened. The haircut. I can’t believe we get to see it. Bless you Harry.