here are a bunch of AMAZING fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of august. I recommend that you read these great fics in september, if you haven’t already!! also check out the HL Summer Fic Exchange!
(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)
He’s beautiful. His eyes are a stunning green, the color of new foliage. The new kid’s limbs are long and lanky—he looks extremely uncomfortable and uncoordinated. Louis internally smirks to himself, guessing the kid probably won’t be too skilled with a sword, or a bow, or anything sharp, most likely. His hair falls to his shoulders in sets of loose, brown curls. The color is rich and luscious, resembling soil so much that it looks like flowers could sprout from his hairline at any moment. But Louis’ eyes are stuck on his soft looking lips, pink as flower petals and slightly parted as his eyes scan the horizon of the camp.
Louis was leaning against the railing of the bridge, looking down at the water completely lost in thought when he heard someone approach the bridge from the side that he came from. Glancing up, he noticed Harry walking towards him, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, and seemingly lost in thought. Louis shifted his weight onto his other foot and stood up properly, watching quietly as Harry walked past him. Louis opened his mouth. He wanted to say something to Harry to break the silence, or at least to get him to notice him standing there against the bridge railing - but the words got stuck in Louis’ throat, and he snapped his mouth shut, going back to staring down at the water mindlessly instead. All the while, trying hopelessly to figure out what the fuck he’s doing with his life. Harry kept walking, and soon Louis was once again left alone to his thoughts.
Or the one where Louis really doesn’t hate his neighbor who keeps waking him up at the crack of dawn. Ft magic, Liam, Niall, and Zayn barely being mentioned, Harry and his fucking motorcycle, a date and a kiss.
Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever.
“Jieun-ah, please.” Jimin sighed, as he tried putting her arms through the sleeves of her baby pink coat, which she shrugged back off again for the nth time making Jimin let out a soft groan of exasperation.
“Jieun-ah…” Jimin pleaded as he felt his patience go thin after a long tiring morning.
“I don’t want to go to school daddy,” Jieun said softly, pouting as she looked at her dad with round eyes, the corners watering slightly before Jimin felt his resolve weaken at the sight of his little girl before him.
Sighing, he grabbed her hands and put on a large grin, “Jieun-ah, It’ll be fun!” he tried cheering, “Daddy had loved going to school all his life (what a lie) and really wished he could go again.”
“Then why don’t you come with me?” Jieun asked, tugging at the ends of her little pale blue sundress, the color contrasting strongly against her raven blank hair that tumbled around her shoulders in soft curls.
Cradling her face in his hands, her cheeks squishing up together making Jimin chuckle slightly, he said, “Daddy’s too old now, but if anything happens I’ll be there for you, alright? Do you wanna go now? I promise it’ll be great.”
“Pinky promise?” Jieun asked, holding out her pinky to Jimin’s face as he laughed a little, hooking her tiny pinky within his and bringing them together before pressing a small kiss to her hands, “I promise baby.”
“Hi guys!! Welcome! Hello!” you smiled happily as the kids walked one by one into your class, all their faces with expressions that varied, some happy, some mad, some scared and some with tears and snot dripping from their little noses.
“There you go Jieun-ah, I’ll pick you up in a couple hours okay?”
4) When Liam was telling the TS story, he mentioned himself being there and Harry and Niall, but then he said, “Where was Louis?” with this playful-but-really-meaningful-in-a-shady-way tone. I mean, if she’s anywhere nearby, you and I and Liam all know that Louis is going to be as far away as possible.
So yeah, basically, Liam has been glorious in interviews ever since this round of promo started (despite unfortunate official narrative circumstances) and he turned the shade up to high today. It was awesome. That is all.
Juhannus was originally a celebration for Ukko the supreme god of weather and harvest. It was also a time for making magic since the spirit world was more active at the time of the white nights. A loud feasting and drinking brought luck in love as well as a good harvest and kept the evil spirits at bay.
1. Roll in dew
If you roll around naked in a field, your
future spouse will appear in your life within a year. Dew was believed
to have a healing effect and rolling in it was supposed to make you
beautiful and healthy. Earlier, dew was even collected in cloths and
pressed into bottles for the year to come.
2. Put a spell on a field
Find a four-leafed clover from the yard in the
evening. Hide the clover under your shirt, next to your bosom. When the
clock strikes midnight, let your hair loose and run to the field. Go
around the field three times. When the person of your fancy will eat
bread made out of the wheat from that specific field, they will fall in
love with you.
3. Collect seven flowers
Collect seven different types of flowers from as
many meadows. When going to bed, put the bouquet underneath your pillow.
You will see “the one” in your dream. Flowers and plants have an important role in
Midsummer celebrations. Previously, it was common to scatter tree leaves
on the floors and build tree houses in the yards. Even cows were
decorated with garlands, so as to secure a good year for the cattle and
4. Sweep naked
Sweep your bedroom floor naked, just a red thread tied around your waist, and the ghost of your love will greet you.
5. Tie a sauna whisk, vihta
Vihtas are always made for the Midsummer
sauna. They are usually made out of birch as its fresh leaves are soft
and have a lovely fragrance. For your magic spell, the Midsummer bath
whisk should be made out of eight different tree and flower types. After
the sauna, throw the whisk on the roof of the sauna. Climb up after it
and see whereto the stem of the whisk points. That is the direction from
which your future spouse will come.
6. Make a bonfire
The smoke of the bonfire will turn to the person who will find their spouse next. When the flames start to go out, jump over the bonfire to bring luck in love.
7. Look into a mirror
When you put two mirrors opposite each other on a midsummer night, you can see your future spouse in the reflection of the other.
8. Listen to the first sound
In the wee hours of the night, climb up somewhere
high – on a hill, on top of a fell or a big rock. To a place where it is
easy to hear surrounding sounds. Your future spouse will come from the
same direction as the first sound of the morning. If you hear music, it
means an approaching wedding. If you hear a child crying, it is a sign
of birth. The number of cuckoo sounds tells how many years you have to wait until you find love.
Like the constantly suspicious/optimistic fan I am, I went through the new Zayn video while pausing frequently to try to see if there was any shady art. Sure enough, it appears that right next to the bearding propaganda is a friendly Batman.
Is it connected to the rather aggressive “SO WHAT?” Is is not? Who knows. What we do know is that Batman is heavily connected to both Liam and Zayn.
I wrote this directly after I left my first Harry Styles concert. My emotions were more elevated, and now that I’ve had some time to sit and reflect, I feel a little less raw. Keep that in mind.
I definitely got carried away, just needed to type it out, I guess. It seems a bit mad, and I’m slightly hesitant to post, but maybe someone else can resonate and understand.
Music does fucking weird things to you, man.
Warning: it’s pretty aggressive in terms of “I miss this fucking boyband so much, I cry about it,” but you all know.
It’s not just a boyband.
You get it.
I saw Harry Styles at the Chicago Theatre on September 26th.
Several people have asked me for an update.
First disclaimer: this is less of a concert play-by-play and more of a word vomit. About One Direction. About Harry. About the hiatus, the crazy shit it’s made me feel over the past two years, the future. All a bunch of nonsense - or maybe not - thoughts.
Honesty hour ensues.
Let me preface this by saying I’m grateful. So beyond grateful for all my experiences. I won’t take advantage of that. I never have. Never will.
One Direction holds an interesting pull over millions of people. Me included. I fell in love with them on a whim - it wasn’t intentional. I don’t understand it. I can’t make sense of it. I can’t explain to others why I’m so invested. But at this point, I don’t bother with an explanation. I love to love them.
“One Direction is broken up. You still listen to them?” The amount of times I’ve heard this. I’m homesick for people who don’t know I exist. Moderately crazy, but shows the extent of the soul this band put into their music and performances and relationships with each other. And us. I feel tied to it.
Is any other fandom like this? I don’t know. Nor will I ever know.
Anyone who knows me knows I’ve had a very difficult time with the whole “solo” endeavor. One Direction is the biggest and most important part of my early 20’s, and for it to stop so abruptly and without any closure has taken an embarrassing toll on me. My best friend and I have become sickeningly close during our travels - we’ve experienced seven shows together, one of which was out the country - and to me, One Direction concerts became a place to make some of our deepest memories that no one else can replicate, or understand. I met friends - my Rita - through this band. I met you guys. It’s been two years of wondering and waiting if and when they would make a return into our lives, and then. Instead. We got solo Harry. Full force.
I understand the point of the break. I get it. Overworked. Shit management. I’ve exhausted the topic in my own mind, and with others. Doesn’t mean I’m jumping for joy over it. I’m a 1d stan at heart; I support them as individuals, but when it comes down to it, my loyalties lie with the band.
I’ll be candid and real, which I’m often not on this blog. I initially jumped on the “1d went on hiatus because of Harry” bandwagon. My original logic: he said he was the one who initiated it. He was the one who had solid plans. Louis said he fought it. Niall said he wasn’t ready for it. And after closely paying attention to hundreds of interviews since 2015, Harry has clearly showed his gratitude toward the band - don’t get me wrong - but he’s the only one who hasn’t talked about a return date. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to give false hope. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know and doesn’t want anyone to read too much into his words. Maybe he’s moved on. Whatever the case, I shied away from his career at the beginning and couldn’t get excited like everyone else seemed to be. It hurt my heart to see him so happy and thriving away from the pieces that helped him with his start, his life. Honestly, I know I would have felt hesitant about whoever happened to go fully solo first (Zayn doesn’t count - that’s a very different situation). Sure, Niall and Louis had singles out last year, but it’s not the same as embracing a new album, a new identity. It just so happened to be Harry first.
Second disclaimer: I hate that the band isn’t together, but I could never hate any direct member for that. Ever. No one is specifically responsible. And I know that.
My vision is clouded. Selfishly, I didn’t want Harry (or any of them, really) to fall out of love with the past because I wasn’t ready to fall out of love with it. It’s brought me so much joy and love and laughter and experiences. It feels like I’m begging please don’t move on without me. I’ve found a major piece of myself because of this band, and as ridiculous as it sounds, I now feel a little lost. Being 25 is weird enough in itself, in terms of career and relationships and generally just being, and now take away the part that gave me stability and my independence, and I’m just. Wandering. Waiting for something to happen to make me feel as happy as One Direction did.
Reading that back sounds ridiculous. But I’m not the only one here.
I know what this looks like, what it sounds like. I know how skewed my perspective is. I’m doing my best to fix it.
I have Harry’s album memorized. I love a few songs, like a few, dislike a few. I guess that goes for every album. His style has changed from what we’re used to, as has some of his lyrics, but the quirkiness is still the same. The heart is still there. I knew it would be.
I was overwhelmed walking into the show. It’s been over two years since I’ve seen a member of 1d on stage in front of me. I had high expectations - expectations for his performance, expectations about how I wanted to feel once it was over. The venue was beautiful. It was the perfect place to listen to this album live for the first time. Echoey and full of charm and personality. Crystals. Velvet couches in the box seating area. Marbles floors and winding staircases. Pink hues across the stage. Simple, effective lighting. Harry. All Harry. No more crowds by the thousands, no more booming music, no more larger than life stage. Somehow, I felt more anxious.
He did not disappoint. But then again, I didn’t expect him to. For the past three years, he’s always done the best job at captivating my attention whilst performing. Nothing has changed in that sense.
It felt like the final nail in the coffin for 1d, kind of. My friend’s words. It’s too hard to imagine him doing this and then going back to a place where he doesn’t get to 100% put his whole self into what he’s doing, and has to share and compromise on ideas. I understand that. It would be counterproductive to work backwards. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it would definitely feel less organic.
Not just for Harry. For all of them.
Doesn’t mean I’ve lost faith, though.
“It’s been two years since we’ve last seen each other,” he said, “and in those two years, I missed you so much.”
I cried from the moment I sat down until I got back to my hotel room.
I like to be overwhelmed by music. But not like this.
I think part of it is because this was only the fourth night of his tour. It’s still brand new. I’m still not well acquainted with it. New territory, uncharted. I sound so ugly for being so conflicted about solo endeavors, especially when I know there were people who won’t get the chance to see him and I did. I’m grateful, I promise. I’m working meticulously to sort my brain from my heart.
I’m seeing Niall in a few weeks. God help me if I feel this royally fucked over from him, too.
Harry has not left behind his roots. That much was clear. I don’t think I was ever really worried about that part, because he’s pure and kind and appreciates everything in his life for what it is. He would never speak an ill word about 1d. Ever. I don’t think he has any ill words. I sobbed when he performed WMYB. I loathe that song. It felt like a small piece of home, anyway, him using their start as a part of his start. He looked gorgeous. He sounded like a dream. He doesn’t have as much room to prance, but he made do. No catwalk, no problem. I missed his voice. His speaking voice, preaching to the crowds about love and bravery. His terrible jokes. His gratitude. Christ, it felt so good to have him in front of me again.
Kiwi was exceptional. The crowd went off. SOTT was overbearing in a beautiful way. Hearing everyone scream “woman!” all at once was a Goddamn experience. The room was deafening for the entire show.
It wasn’t the same. I didn’t expect it to be, but I wanted it to be.
My friend kept saying, “One Direction is so dead and I couldn’t care less.” I care. I hate the division amongst the fans, amongst the media. “Pick a team.” I don’t want to. Right now, my friend loves Harry more than One Direction as a whole, so she doesn’t understand. I’m not going to try to make her. The crowd chanted “Harry” during the encore, and my heart hurt in the strangest way. I told Rita about it. “Ugh. Just Harry.” I knew she’d understand. She almost always does.
I love Harry Styles. With my entire heart. He was happy on that stage. Even while I stood in the back with my face in my hands, I could see that. I’m happy he’s happy. I love nothing more than a happy Harry. The world is a better place when he’s smiling.
That doesn’t mean that I don’t feel unsettled.
It’s out of my control. Accept the good that comes along with changes. Something I’m learning. Something I’m sure all five original members of One Direction are also learning.
I’m seeing him again on Saturday, in Boston. I’m hoping the initial shock will be mostly worn off and now that I know what solo 1d feels like, I’ll feel more ready for it. More ready for his sequined suit, his smile, his note changes, his band that isn’t the one we’re all used to, the harmonies that bleed together as if it was fate, the lack of three other boys who I miss terribly.
Maybe he misses them as much as I do.
I saw Harry Styles at the Chicago Theatre on September 26th. He was stunning. He moved me to tears. He ran with a rainbow flag, made us scream about pizza, looked beautiful in the neon pink lights. It wasn’t One Direction. It wasn’t better. It wasn’t worse. It was just different. And that’s what I’ll keep telling myself. Embrace being different. It’s what Harry does, after all.
I’m profound in the art of making five days worth of clothing fit into one carry on bag. I can memorize new albums in 48 hours if I have the right determination. I’m able to meticulously plan trips to new cities and venues like it’s nobody’s business. I’ve yet to master the ability, however, of separating love and music.
But I guess those are technically the same thing, anyway.
Thank you for a beautiful show, Styles. Thank you for allowing us into your life, for staying true. I’ve missed you, as a whole, as an individual. I’ll see you on Saturday.
Stay tuned for a second update this weekend. I’m sure it will be much different. I’ll be sure to post some photos, as there will “mainly be prancing.” And what a shame it would be to miss that.
so maleficent is the good fairy here, right, and the three
fairies are the bad ones, so like fae do they each appear to be what they’re
not. and aurora, given fae gifts and raised by fae, is nearly fae herself.
maleficent knows that only an elf could hope to sway a fae heart, because elves
are impervious to their glamour. maleficent kidnaps the young prince philip,
and brings him to the elven realm. she tries to bargain a prince for a prince,
but the king is unswayed. a human prince, he declared, is only worth an elvish
servant, so that’s what she gets.
maleficent takes the servant and puts him in philip’s place,
gives him that name, and watches as the servant elf is made a prince among
mortals, watches as he eventually captures aurora’s heart, and saves her from
her living death. watches as the elf servant turned prince becomes a king, as
the almost-fae princess aurora becomes queen, and their two kingdoms become one
and they rule the land of men together.
this, of course, begs the question – what happens to our
dear human philip?
he is not the first child that has been bargained away to
the elves, and elf queen thalia settles the young boy on her hip and raises an
eyebrow at her husband, waiting. the child awakens by degrees, until he’s
clutching her neck and blinking at the gathered elves. thalia is only grateful
that he hasn’t started screaming, like so many of his kind do.
normally the children that are bargained to them are put to
work in the castle, where they’re safe, where their clumsiness and their
ignorance and their mistakes will be glossed over, where she and the king will
ensure they will be politely ignored rather than harassed. they’ve lost a
servant boy, and so she’s sure a servant boy is what this young human is meant
except a woman of the court steps forward, and she’s old,
old enough that it shows, that her curly hair has gone silver and wrinkles are
etched deep in her face. lady ember is older than the forests they reside in,
is older than her grandmother, than her great grandmother. everyone’s lost track
of her exact age, but she’s the oldest elf in village. thalia likes her – she and
lady ember have skin of the same dark shade. thalia hopes that if she is to
live long enough, she and lady ember would look alike.
“i would like the child,” she says, eyes like amber, and for
the moment she appears younger than she ever has. there’s something eager in
her, and it brings a life to her that thalia hasn’t seen in a long time.
thalia looks to her husband, and king celedor gives a
minuscule twitch to his lip which is an equivalent to a shrug. she sets the
young human on the ground, and ember holds out a single hand. the child looks
behind him, then in front him, and takes cautious steps forward. he steps until
he can take her hand, his own looking small and pale in hers. “it’s been a long
time since i was able raise a child,” ember says, “i would like to do so again.
will you come home with me?”
and thalia understands. elf children take many hundreds of
year to mature, and ember would not risk dying on a child before it could take
care of itself. but humans are candles that burn at both ends – hot, and fast.
within a decade or two the child in front of them will be able to survive on
his own, will not need lady ember to coddle him for centuries.
he nods, and finally opens his mouth to say, “i am philip.”
“hello philip,” lady ember smiles, “i am lady ember of the mother
tree. now you are lord philip of the ember tree.”
they are elves. they don’t do something as gauche as gasp,
but the sentiment comes out just the same. celedor’s mouth drops open a millimeter
and thalia’s right index finger twitches. raise a human child like a beloved
pet they could all understand – but to adopt one, to truly adopt one that she’d
just met and didn’t know and bequeath to him the estate and title the noble name
of the mother tree?
lady ember leads her new son away, and the gathered elves
can do nothing but stare.
prince elion – eli, to everyone who doesn’t want the prince
of the elves nursing a personal grudge against them – comes home in the dead of
night, when he can slip past the guards and the fawning people on the street
and sneak into the royal quarters.
“mother,” he greets as he enters the library. his father
sleeps early, but his mother doesn’t go to bed until nearly dawn. he kneels by
her side, and she runs a hand through his hair, tugging the leather tie off
when it gets in her way. his mass of dark curly hair tumbles around his head,
and as he shakes it out leaves other debris fall out. thalia sighs, but doesn’t
remark on it.
“your hunt went well?” she asks, although she knows the
answer. eli is one of the best hunters in the kingdom, and his hunting parties –
comprised of the strongest and best among the noble families – are notoriously
he grins, teeth extra white against his skin, “of course,
mother. did anything interesting happen while i was away?”
“the faerie maleficent came and bargained away a human
prince,” she says, “she wanted you in return. your father gave her a servant
eli laughs, too loud and boisterous, in a way he would never
allow himself to laugh around his father or his subjects.
philip thinks perhaps he should be screaming, or crying, or
causing some sort of fuss about this new life and this old woman who insists
she’s his mother now. but he’s never had a mother before, and this new place is
beautiful. they live in palace carved out of an enormous tree – the mother tree
that their name comes from – and philip is given a lot more freedom as an elf
lordling than he was as a prince.
he hopes the boy who took his place is nice to his father,
and doesn’t mind long evenings with only the servants for company. being a
prince can be very lonely. he knows from experience.
ember gives him rooms and toys, but warns him that he has a
lot of work ahead of him. as a human, he’s at a severe disadvantage here at the
elf court. elves are faster than humans, stronger and smarter and wiser. “it
sounds to me,” philip says, “that maybe they’re just older. if i had hundreds
of years, I could be all those things too.”
ember’s eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles, and he returns it.
philip knows hard work. he was set to rule a whole nation,
was set to lead whole armies. he knows training and learning and patience.
learning to become an elf lord seems like it will be a lot easier than being a
lady ember and her servants are harsh, but fair. in their
home, in the mother tree, he is a pampered lord. out of it, however – he acquires
many scars from training, from falling and failing. ember and her staff run him
ragged into the ground, because he must be able to keep up with elves.
they have hundreds and hundreds of years to practice, to
become strong and smart and fast. philip doesn’t have that long, so his mother
forces him to do more, train harder, learn faster than would be expected of any
so he learns. the first time he beats his trainer at an
archery competition, he feels a swell of pride like nothing he’s felt before.
as he inches his way to the level of his teachers, and then surpasses them, the
they’ve always been kind to him. but as his skill grows,
they come to respect him, and that’s far more valuable.
eli hears of the human that lady ember of the mother tree
took as her own – of course he does, it’s all anyone can talk about. but he
doesn’t actually get a chance to see the boy, because lady ember keeps him safe
on her lands, in her tree that none of them dare trespass on. so he assumes,
like many, that she keeps him coddled and safe, away from those who would seek
him harm, away from a world that would seek him harm.
then, two decades from when she gave young philip her name,
lady ember finds him at court. she tilts her head, and he bows. he may be
higher in rank, but he was raised to respect his elders, and lady ember is
certainly that. “prince eli,” she says, “your next hunt is coming up, isn’t it?”
“yes, my lady,” he answers, wondering if she has a request.
he doesn’t mind tracking down a certain type of meat or pelt for her – he likes
the challenge, and likes lady ember.
she smiles at him, and for some reason he feels as if he’s staring
into the jaws of a dragon. “excellent. might my son join you? he grows bored of
hunting on his own.”
the last thing in the world eli wants to do is keep an eye
on a bumbling, spoiled human. but this human is also the lord of the mother
tree, and he can think of no response that wouldn’t bring his mother’s wrath
down on his head. “of course, lady ember.”
Harry loved being the center of everyone’s attention. Whether it be during the middle of grocery shopping or in the middle of a performance, he wanted everyone’s eyes and focus on him. It wasn’t because he was an attention-whore, it was just because it made him happy! And what made him happier was when he had 100% of your attention. Which was currently not what was happening at the moment.
“The next thing I know, my knees buckle and I’m on the floor with my notes scattered around me. It was humiliating!” You whined, spreading some jam on a slice of toast while keeping your phone sandwiched tightly between your arm and shoulder. “Y/F/N- you weren’t there, of course you’re going to think it wasn’t that bad. I’m telling you, it was bad!”
“Y/N…” Harry hummed, tracing a pattern on the marble countertop, clearly bored out of his mind. You turned to glance at him before pointing at your phone, as if he didn’t already know you were talking to Y/F/N.
“I lost my favorite pen while I was at it. Rolled underneath the professor’s desk so it’s pretty much gone forever.” You bit into your toast, chewing thoughtfully.
“I’ll just get a new pack of them for you at the stationery shop.”
“Oh, but it’s not the same…”
“Y/N.” Harry tried again, using a stern tone of voice. He’d definitely catch your attention if he pulled out the angry voice. He knitted his brows together when you turned around to look at him. Again, you pointed at your phone before blowing him a quick kiss. What? That wasn’t the response he was expecting. He wanted you to hang up on Y/F/N and talk to him about your humiliating incident instead!
“Sure it is! You liked those multicolored ones, right?”
“Mhm. You sure you won’t mind picking a couple of pens up for me today? I’ll pay you back.”
“I don’t mind! I needed to pick up a couple binders today so it’s not an inconvenience.”
“I could always buy them fo’ yeh and you don’ even have to pay me back.” Harry grunted, reaching over and grabbing a tissue before rolling it up into a ball and throwing it at your head. You scowled and picked the ball up off the floor before tossing it back at Harry with a pointed look. “Y/N.”
You excused yourself from the call, placing your hand over the speakers. “Yes, Harry? Can I help you with something?”
“I, uh… I wan’ some toast. You should probably hang up on Y/F/N so you can make it for me.” Harry shrugged innocently, pointing at the sack of bread. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how childish he was being before taking your half-eaten piece of toast and sliding it over to him on a napkin. “Wha- I don’ want your-”
“Thanks a million, Y/F/N. You’re the best!” You gushed, dusting some crumbs off the countertop. “Now I’m just excited because I get a new set of pens!”
“Y/N!” Harry whined loudly, groaning when he still failed at getting your attention. He knew exactly what you were doing. You were fully aware at how flustered and irritated he’d get when you didn’t pay attention to him, and you knew what buttons to push to get him all wired up. Now it was time to pull out the big guns because he was grasping at straws here. His face crumpled up as he let out a sob, covering his face with his hand so that you couldn’t see that there were no tears coming out of his eyes.
“Wha- Harry, why are you- Y/F/N, can I call you back? Mm, yeah. Okay.” You hung up, tossing your phone aside before padding over to Harry with a look of concern. “Hey, what’s the matter?” You cooed, wrapping your arms around him and letting him shove his face into the crook of your neck. You rubbed comforting circles into his back as he let out pitiful little cries.
“You’re supposed to be payin’ attention to me…” Harry murmured, his voice muffled as he spoke. You pulled him away from your neck, squinting your eyes at him.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I can’t be paying attention to you all the time, silly.” You sighed, letting Harry pull you onto his lap and wrap his arms around your waist. “I have a life outside of you!”
“I’m aware! All I’m saying is that since you have your attention on other things when we’re not at home, the times that we are at home your attention should be on… me!” Harry proposed, propping his chin up on your shoulder with a cheesy smile. The both of you looked over when your phone buzzed on the table, Harry’s hand shooting out to snatch it before you had the chance to. “If you answer it you’ll make me sad.”
“You are… You’re really something, you know that?” You snorted, shaking your head.
Harry didn’t just want 100% of your attention. He wanted 110%.