styling-and-writing

Harry Styles: Pregnancy Series

Pregnancy Series #4 - News (Part One). 

(Word Count - 4, 998)

Thank you for being so patient with me, my loves. I know I promised for Friday but I really wanted to get that Daddy Louis piece of writing up for you so we could all share some Louis feels. Haha. ;) Here we have the next instalment for the Pregnancy Series - telling the families and telling the boys. I think this one will be split into two since this one is already around 6k words long. So, this part if where Harry and the missus tell Harry’s family and then the next bit will be when they tell the missus’ family and the boys as well. xx

** ALSO, THANK YOU FOR 10, 000 FOLLOWERS! YOU’RE ALL WICKED AND I LOVE YOU! **

PREGNANCY SERIES | WEDDING SERIES | MASTERLIST | LOUIS BLOG | LOUIS MASTERLIST | ASK BOX - REQUEST - COMMENT |

* TWO WEEKS LATER. 6 WEEKS PREGNANT *

“Are you ready, love? We’ve got to be at the GP’s office in 20 minutes,” Harry stated, his knuckles knocking upon the wooden door barricading him from entering the bathroom where you were stood beside the sink. A brush in your hand as you brushed through the knots of your hair before pulling it back into a ponytail at the back of your head, a smile on your lips as you reached for the hairband Harry had left on the vanity counter after his shower that morning. “Baby? You alright in there?”

His voice was filled with concern. It had been like that for the past two weeks, ever since you’d stepped through the threshold after your doctor’s appointment with June two weeks ago. He’d been checking up on you, texting you to make sure you were okay when out shopping for groceries and food products, always making sure you were comfortable upon the sofa – even if you were tying your shoelaces – and he was forever there by your side to make sure nothing problematic could get in your way. His vow to you was coming into place and at times, you felt that he was becoming a little to overprotective and he was crowding you by making sure you were okay throughout periods of the day; yet at other times you felt loved. Loved by the fact he was sticking to his promise and making sure he was going out of his way to make you feel okay and worrying more about you and your growing yet tiny baby rather than himself. Loved at the fact he would much rather be with you at home and making sure your needs were met rather than going out with Grimmy or Ed or the rest of the London crew or even the boys – though each and every one who would be there during your nights out were welcome at your home, as long as a call was made before so you and Harry could prepare for company.

“Just coming. Are you ready? Have you eaten? Have you washed? Have you been to the toilet? I don’t want you walking out of the room because your bladder is too weak,” you teased, tightening your ponytail before sighing out heavily. You dropped your head down, your chin mere inches from your chest as you eyed at your belly – a belly that was beginning to feel bloated and, when you weren’t covered over with clothes and you gave your belly a proper look over, a small bump was visible. Which was an advantage to you because out and about, your belly was hidden and your baggy outfits and some of Harry’s t-shirts were becoming more of use. “I’m serious. I can sense a smirk on your lips, mister.”

“I’m not smirking. But, I do need another wee. I had a cup of tea while you were in the shower and it’s catching up on me,” he laughed, and by the sound of a thud against the door, you could only guess his forehead was resting against the wood. “Hurry up, woman. I might piss my pants any minute,” he grumbled. Your fingers moved to the door, unlocking the lock and pulling it open to reveal Harry standing there with his eyes trained to you. “You look beautiful. How are you feeling today? Any morning sickness striking upon you?”

“I feel great, H. I promise. I had a bit of an iffy stomach this morning but it passed. I had to nick your glass of water though,” you smiled, brushing your hands over his shoulders to remove the crumbs of toast lingering beneath the tips of his hair. “Honestly, I hope our baby doesn’t have your messiness, mister. I feel like I’m already looking after one child,” you teased, giggling when his hands wrapped around your wrists. His rings cold against your flushing skin. “Go and pee. We can’t afford to be late. We’re meeting our midwife so we need to set a good impression on them,” you smiled, standing up on your toes to press a kiss to your husbands freshly shaven cheeks.

With June being your regular GP, she was there for you for whenever you felt sick or when you felt something wasn’t going right – just like she was there for Harry whenever he needed an appointment or when he went for annual check-ups. And with the pregnancy now taking place, she had offered to book you in for hospital appointments every few weeks with a midwife to get you up to date on the baby’s development, and to make sure you were feeling okay and happy and healthy with the changes going on in your body.

“I’ll be two seconds, okay? Go get in the car and get comfy,” he suggested, pressing a kiss to your forehead and letting his lips linger against your skin. His cologne was strong and filled your nose with the Tom Ford scent you had grown to love over the years, and it was a smell you’d find anywhere throughout the house – his t-shirts and hoodies when you wanted to snuggle under his clothes, his blanket from his mother when you felt cold and needed warmth, or even his pillow that you snuggled up to when he was away from months on end for touring; or even when he was out at the weekends. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

With one last kiss to your lips, he shuffled around you and proceeded to go about his business, the last thing you heard being the clink of his belt buckle as he undid the buckle and pulled apart the button from the button hole at his waistband of his jeans.

As you jogged down the stairs, you reached for the car keys and the house keys and slid them into the pocket of your hoodie adoring your upper half, the metal of the keys tinkling against the screen of your phone that was previously in your pocket. You made one last run around the lower half of the house, taking longer in the kitchen as you took a sight of the plate left in the sink from Harry’s breakfast along with crumbs sitting upon the counter top, and a mug of now cold tea still sitting on the edge of the breakfast bar with a rim of tea settling around the bottom of the mug. It was typical Harry – a messy man like any other, but he was one to obey when told to clean his mess up, especially if it was his mother or you who had demanded for him to clean.

With footsteps being heard coming down the stairs, followed by a whistle of a tune you were unfamiliar with, you left the kitchen and stood in the hallway with your arms folded across your chest.

“I thought you were in the car,” he smiled, running his hands through his hair and ruffling up the strands loosely before letting them fall back into their original place on top of his head, cascading down the sides of his face. “Come on. Fifteen minutes until our appointment. I’m excited to final get to be able to talk about the baby and see how she’s developing,” Harry cooed, striding across the carpeted floor before he stood in front of you with his fingertips hooking beneath your hoodie 

“She, hm?”

“Yeah. I can see us having a little girl, ya’know? A little princess, as Niall would put it,” he smiled, tickling his cold fingertips across your skin. “Just think, our baby is growing inside of you right now, feeding off of you and growing into a precious little human being that’s a creation from a night filled with love,” Harry whispered, his voice slow and accentuated and full of care and curiosity. And by his facial expressions every time he was able to speak about the baby, it just showed the love and care and excitement he had for a baby that was barely even a formation of a human being right now.

“A daddy’s girl? I can see it happening now,” you grinned, resting your forearms on top of his shoulders and hooking your fingers into the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. “I love you. I’m so, so glad we’re doing this next chapter of our life together.”

“Me too, love. Me too. I expected you to run off a few weeks after the honeymoon, you know that?” He teased, nudging his nose against yours. A smack to his arm was what you’d given in response, a grunt leaving his lips as he pulled a hand from beneath your hoodie and rubbing at the patch you’d playfully swatted at. “Hey, now. I was joking,” he laughed, “Precious baby, mummy’s abusing daddy. Did you see that, hm? Mummy’s not a big fan of daddy’s jokes, you see? But, I’m sure I can get you giggle when you hear them, precious,” Harry cooed, dropping to his knees as he carefully lifted up your hoodie with his wrist.

“Harry, we’re going to be late for the appointment,” you smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “We’ll have plenty of time to chat with the baby when we get back home. But right now, we have an appointment to be at.”

* *

“Mrs. Styles, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sophie and I’ll be your midwife for your pregnancy. I hope everything’s been going well,” Sophie smiled, a clipboard in her hand with a pen hooked to the pocket of her blue hospital dress beneath her name tag. A smile was big on her face and she seemed filled with excitement, and in some ways, you couldn’t blame her. She had a job where she got to deliver babies in the world, and she got to enjoy the emotions all of the parents would have when they conversed about developments of their babies, and in your instance; she seemed excited to be working and accompanying you and your husband throughout your pregnancy, because it wasn’t everyday somebody could assist Harry Styles and his wife through something so life changing as having a baby. “Mr Styles, it’s an honour to meet you too. I’m a big fan,” she smiled, as Harry shook her hand with a smile.

“I’m glad. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sophie. We’re honoured to have you as our midwife, love,” Harry smiled, as another nurse in the room brought in a chair over to the side of the bed you were sitting upon.

“How is everything going with your pregnancy then? If I have recalled correctly, you must be around 6 weeks along in your trimesters so we’re halfway through your first trimester. Now, this is always the stressful trimester and especially for first time mothers, and even fathers. How is everything going?”

You looked to Harry with a smile as he took a hold of your hand and laced his fingers through your own.

“Everything’s really good. I mean, I had a really bad couple of days with morning sickness but both of our mothers had told us that that was normal in the first few weeks. And I’ve been more tired than normal and I’ve been needing to go to the toilet a lot more often, but, everything’s going really well, I think,” you grinned, turning your attention to Sophie who was jotting down notes on the paper clipped to the clipboard resting on her knee. “My morning sickness has almost died down completely. I just feel a bit nauseated through the mornings so I just try to take my mind off of everything. And Harry’s been pretty good with my hormone changes and mood swings,” you giggled, squeezing Harry’s hand absentmindedly.

“That’s all completely normal to experience. Everything is sounding great so far, Mrs. Styles,” she smiled, placing her clipboard upon the small desk beside your bed and looking towards the other nurse that was situated within the room. “This is just a first visit so we’re not going to go into too much detail about the further months to come. We’re just going to make sure you understand information like vitamin supplements and making sure you know the nutrition changes and food diets you need to be on throughout your pregnancy to make sure everything goes swell with the nine months passing,” Sophie added, turning her attention from the other nurse to your and Harry. “Are you a smoker at all?”

You shook your head softly and dipped your head to your chest as you shuffled upon the edge of the bed and laid yourself down, your ankles crossing.

“I suggest that you try and lessen your nights out and making sure you don’t intake a lot of alcohol and try to keep away from those who smoke quite a bit,” she reasoned, reaching for a pamphlet sitting in the drawer of the desk. “This little leaflet is to give you any information on what to do if you’ve had any family illnesses going around in either side. It’s always possible to be passed down through the genes and one of you may be a carrier of that disease, however, it’s rare to happen if your family health is regular and consistent,” Sophie smiled, her head turning round to where the nurse was bringing in the ultrasound machine, flicking off the main light of the room.

“We’re having a – Is it possible to see the baby now then? If we’re getting an ultrasound?” Harry questioned, his bottom lip pinched between his thumb and fore finger. “They’re visible already? At 6 weeks?” He asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

“They are. They’re just a small smudge at the moment, however, they are beginning to grow ears and eyes and their internal organs are forming,” Sophie explained. “You’ll be able to talk to them now and they’ll be able to get accustomed to your voice and (Y/N)’s voice and even your family’s voices. Just try and get involved with the baby and talking to them,” she added, as the nurse handed her the rod for the ultrasound.

“Are we ready to see Baby Styles then?”

You looked to Harry with a smile on your lips, your eyes widening as he nodded excitedly. His hands were beginning to grip onto your tighter; the hand holding your hand was tight against your fingers and the hand he had resting on your calf was beginning to get tighter, his knuckles turning a slight shade of white.

“We’re ready,” Harry whispered.

“Now, this is going to be slightly cold on your tummy, but, don’t worry about that. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get a heartbeat and hear your baby for the first time,” Sophie smiled, as you lifted up the hem of your hoodie and let it sit beneath your breasts, your slight baby bump on show; enough to make Harry smile. “Oh look, a little bump already. That’s a sign of a healthy baby, I’m telling you,” she smiled, oozing some gel upon your skin and using the rod in her other hand to smooth it around your skin.

As you watched the screen intently, you couldn’t help but hear Harry’s jagged breathing from beside you, his hand tightening in your hold as Sophie brought up just where your baby was settled inside your belly, a small white smudge around the middle of the screen coming into clear view.

“Now, here is Baby Styles. Right here,” she stated, her pointer finger tapping against the ultrasound screen where the smudge was clear. “If you see the black dots here, those are your baby’s eyes forming. Yeah, I’d say you’re around the late 6-week mark,” she smiled, looking over to you and Harry. Smiles on your faces. “I’ll let you settle with this whilst I go and print a couple of prints off, and then when I come back, we’ll be able to hear the heartbeat if you want.”

And with that, your midwife stood from her position on the chair and proceeded to walk from the room to leave you and your husband in awe of the screen.

“That’s- That’s our baby, (Y/N). We’re having a baby. It’s a baby,” Harry cried, a tear dribbling down his cheek as you looked across to him. His bottom lip was trembling and his nose was sniffling softly as he kept his eyes locked on the screen in front of you both. “That’s our baby,” he whispered wetly, his voice scratchy and raw and you couldn’t help but tear up at the sound.

“Harry, we’re having a baby,” you whispered, bringing his palm to your lips and nudging your nose against his knuckles. “We’re parents, H. A mummy and daddy.”

A cry left his throat as he locked at you with tear-filled eyes.

“Thank you so much. Thank you. I love you so much, you have no idea, (Y/N). You’re so great and we’re going to be such great parents,” he whispered, standing up and pushing the chair out as he cupped your face in his hands. “I love you. I love you so much. We’re going to do this together and we’re going to be great at this whole thing,” he added, pressing his lips to yours. “Mummy and daddy. That sounds so great off the tongue.”

* * 

“You know what we should do, love?” Harry started, your legs kicked up into his lap as he kneaded his fingertips into your heels. “We should take a trip to Cheshire tomorrow. Quick stop to see mum and Robin, and I believe Gem’s gone back this week to see her. We should go and see them, what do you say?” He suggested, turning his head to look at you, your eyes still tuned to the old The Big Bang Theory episode replaying on the TV screen. A smile lifted the corner of your lips as you gave him a soft nod. “Only if you’re up for a drive. We don’t have to. We can always get them down here in the next couple of days.”

“No. It’ll be good to get some country air,” you smiled, groaning as Harry dropped your foot to his lap. You turned your head to look at him. “It’ll be nice to see your mum and Robin again. And we can tell them the news now. Now we know for definite that there’s a baby growing in here,” you grinned, patting at your belly.

“They’ll be thrilled, babe. I can see it now. Mum won’t stop chatting about the baby once we tell her, I’m telling you.”

“That’s a good thing. Neither will be my mum,” you laughed, swinging your legs from his lap and sitting upright beside him. “I’m just glad we’ve got all this support; you know? Your mum is amazing, my mum is just half an hour away and the boys are bound to be as supportive as our families. I know for a fact they’ll be so excited to have a new baby around,” you added, resting your head upon his shoulder.

“It just means we’ll get to see everyone more,” Harry smiled, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. “So, we’re definitely going to Cheshire tomorrow, yeah? Early start n’all that, so, how about we head up to bed? Have a shower and relax and then we can have a sleep and get ready for a long drive.”

“I guess. Let’s go. I could use a shower.”

* *

As the car pulled up into the driveway of Harry’s old childhood home, you could sense the anticipation to get out of the car sifting through Harry’s veins. It had been a while since the two of you had travelled to Cheshire to visit his family, and it was always a great place to go whenever you needed a getaway from the busy city life in London. Whenever you suggested a trip away, Harry was always up and ready to go to Cheshire no matter what the time was. He didn’t care whether you came or whether you stayed because it meant he got to see his mother and his step-father without a care in the world of being spotted and papped by the media to have stories written about his time on the down low.

He felt a sense of freedom when he came back home. Driving down the same streets he used to walk down on his way to school, and seeing the fields he used to play football in during his childhood, and catching sight of the shops he used to shop in for his mother when she asked him to gather the groceries for dinner that night. He felt his childhood coming back to him and he felt young at heart and like no matter where he went, Holmes Chapel was always the place to bring him back down to earth when things got too tough to handle.

He always wondered why that’s why his mother chose to stay back rather than agreeing to his offer of buying a home in London for her, just so he could be close to her. So he could be there when she called him, or when she needed something to help her with a chore, or whether she just wanted a catch up with her son, or even Gemma, in that case. With him being so far away, he felt he couldn’t do anything – and Harry was one to make sure everyone was okay with any situation.

“Ready? Do you have the sonogram copies? It’s too late now if you’ve forgotten them. I’m not driving back home,” he laughed, pulling the keys from the ignition and hooking the ring around his finger. He smiled as you patted at your bag, sliding your phone into the pocket. “Let’s go and get swaddled by my mother shall we?” He chuckled, opening his car door and swinging his legs out, letting his boots touching the gravel beneath the car.

As you climbed out of the car, you could hear the front door opening followed by a soft gasp and a laugh as Anne came into view with a mug of tea in her hands and a towel wrapped around her washed hair. Gemma was stood in the window of the living room, waving her hands as Robin stood beside her and by where you were walking up the path, you could make out a deep chuckle coming from inside.

“Hello, my sweet boy. Oh my goodness, what are you both doing here? We weren’t expecting you,” Anne laughed, as she threw her free arm around you and pulled you into a warm hug. “Hello, sweetheart. I’ve missed you. How have you been? Have you been okay? Come in, come in. Let’s get you warm. Cheshire’s been a bit cold recently,” she cooed, as Harry made his way up the garden path with a small suitcase the contained your clothes for the few days and a couple of his shirts bundled up, as well as some toiletries stuck at the bottom. “If you told me you guys were coming, I would have done up the spare room. It’s full with our old stuff and things we’ve been meaning to get rid of at the dump,” Anne laughed, as you and Harry followed her into the house, a bang coming from behind Harry as he closed the door with his foot.

“It’s alright, mum. We thought we’d just pop in a pay a visit. We’ve got some news to tell you,” he grinned, kicking off his boots and letting them fall to a heap beside the hallway desk. He dropped his bag to the bottom of the stairs as you followed his mother into the kitchen, the smell of apple pie and cake filling the atmosphere. “We thought it would be a nice way to come and tell you. If we visited and had a couple of day away from the hectic London life,” Harry added, his voice muffled from the two of you being in different rooms.

“Some news, eh? What could this news be, I wonder?” Gemma grinned, standing in the hallway between the kitchen and where Harry was standing. “What could this news be? Tell me now. Tell your big sister,” she smirked, sipping at the mug of coffee in her hands.

“If we have you all sat down, we’ll tell you together,” Harry reprimanded, stepping into the living room where Robin was sat in the arm chair in the corner of the room. A room that was still decorated the same from when he’d visited back in the X Factor days when he brought the boys back home to socialize together. “It’s pretty big news, so,” Harry smiled, falling to the sofa and crossing his socked ankles over.

“How you doing, son? How’s London been? How’s the break working for you?” Robin asked, as Harry nodded softly. “Is it good?”

He had to admit, it was a great chance for him to settle down with you and he got the chance to enjoy the nine months of your pregnancy without having the fear of missing any important milestones that he would have missed when he was millions of miles away on tour in another country. He got the chance to enjoy parenthood like a normal father would, being there for his child and for you as you went through the changes together, and not having to worry about missing the birth of his first baby or having his child bond poorly to him because he was barely around.

“It’s been great so far. I mean, we’re definitely talking about reuniting soon enough to get back into the groove and the swing of things, but right now, we’re all just focusing on our own things,” Harry smiled, looking over to Robin. “I mean; I’ve done so much with (Y/N) since we’ve been on a break. Doing things that we wouldn’t usually do if I was away on tour for most of the year,” he added, twiddling his thumbs softly as Robin nodded and gruffly coughed along with Harry’s statement. “I mean, right now, I need to be around for (Y/N) as much as possible because she’s just going to need so much support and help and yeah, this break is really helping,” Harry smiled, and from the corner of his eyes, he could see you and Gemma and his mother shuffling into the sitting room. Two mugs in your hands as you took a seat beside him and placed a mug in his hand before dropping your bag to your ankles.

“It’s so great to have you back here, Harry,” Anne cooed, taking a seat on the arm of the chair beside where Harry was lounging on the sofa cushions. “What’s this big news that you’ve travelled to come and tell us then?”

As Harry looked across to you, he gave you a soft wink before reaching into your bag and pulling out the photograph as soon as he’d touched it with his fingertips. As he handed you the mug you’d handed to him prior to this, he pulled the photo into clear view of his mother and watched as she covered her mouth with her hands and gasped out loud, a soft ‘oh my goodness’ leaving her lips as Harry handed her the sonogram photo. 

“You’re having a baby?” She whispered, her voice cracking as Harry nodded happily. “My baby is having a baby himself. This is wonderful. I’m so proud of you, sweet boy,” she cooed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as she pulled him to her side – his head nestled at her hip as he wrapped his arms around her torso.

“I’m going to be an aunt? Harry, oh my god, you finally got her knocked up!” Gemma laughed, standing up with Robin as Anne scolded her softly. “This is amazing. We’re getting a new baby in the family. Congratulations, you two. This is amazing news,” she smiled, wrapping her hands around the two mugs in your hands and setting them upon the cabinet. You stood up from beside Harry, and smiled as Robin pulled you into a hug.

“Congratulations, sweetheart. This baby will be extremely loved,” Robin smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“He really will. With a family as supportive and as loving as both sides of this family, we will have one very spoilt, very loved, very cared for little baby. And we couldn’t ask for a better family to bring our baby into,” you smiled, turning your head to look over your shoulder at Harry and Anne who were conversing softly over the photo. Harry’s pointer finger pointing to what you could only guess was where the baby was printed on the paper.

* *

“They took the news well,” you smiled, your head pressed to Harry’s chest as you laid in the bed of the spare room. A film was playing upon Harry’s Mac that was settled on his thighs as the two of you cuddled beneath the duvet, soft kisses and cuddles being given every so often to let the other know they were still awake. “I can’t believe we’re having a baby, Harry. It’s still not sinking in. We’re having a baby. A little me and you.”

“Me neither, baby. I’m so glad it’s you I’m having a baby with. I couldn’t think of a better woman to have my kids,” he whispered, his lips pressing to your forehead. “I love you so much. We’ll call your parents in the morning, and then I’ll take you out for a morning walk to get you some fresh air,” he added, smiling as he felt your fingers trace along his tattoos. Your fingertips soft and soothing against his skin, your nails dragging across it.

“I love you too, Harry Styles. I love you too.

anonymous asked:

57 & H

57 “Teach me to fight”

Harry smiles before he realizes you aren’t kidding. “[Y/N]….” he begins cautiously. “Does this have anything to do with last night?” You avoid his eyes and he swears loudly. “I KNEW something happened!” He walks to you and gently holds your face in his massive hands. “Babe why didn’t you tell me?” he asks softly. You shrug and think back. You were out with Harry and Niall last night at a club and as you were all leaving some drunk fans and rude paps got pretty rowdy and a few of them took swings at you and started to shove you around as they closed in on you. “Preston got there in time…I was fine Harry.” You avoided telling Harry exactly how terrified you were last night once you got in the car because you knew he’d worry. Harry drops his hands and turns around, clearly upset. “Harry I was fine!” You stress again. “The damn security team should’ve gotten there faster!” He yells. “I should have been holding on to you, goddammit [Y/N]….” he sinks down on the couch with his head in his hands and you join him, your arms around his strong shoulders. “Harry, first of all this is not your fault. Secondly…it’s P’s job to watch over you and NI, he was just doing his job.” “[Y/N] you could’ve gotten hurt…” You lean your head against his. “But I wasn’t harry,” you remind him gently. “But you could’ve been!” He protests. “So teach to me to defend myself Harry!” You stand up and he looks up at you. Harry sighs and slowly nods. “Okay….I’ll teach you to fight.”

One can be instructed in society, one is inspired only in solitude. Goethe

TWITTER I FACEBOOK I GOOGLEPlus I PINTEREST I WEBSITE

Guess what’s being posted tonight, my loves! ;)

ALSO, I just want to say a massive thank-you for 10, 000 followers. You’re all amazing and I love you all. I did it! I want to hug you all and thank you for being so supportive of me and liking what I write and post - you guys give me the motivation to make my writing the best I can make it. :) xxx

writingforward.com
The 22 Best Writing Tips Ever | Writing Forward
by Melissa Donovan

Today, I’m sharing one of the oldest and most popular posts on Writing Forward. This one dates back to 2007, but it’s still one of the most-visited posts on the blog and one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy these writing tips and find them useful!

Brian Clark over at Copyblogger has issued a challenge to bloggers in his post “The Cosmo Headline Technique for Blogging Inspiration.”

The idea is to use headlines from magazines like Cosmopolitan for inspiration, and to write your headlines before composing your article.

I’ve taken Brian up on his challenge and as a result, I bring you the 22 best writing tips ever.-

Read More →

anonymous asked:

Why is purple prose considered such a bad thing? I thought Vladimir Nabokov's writing could be deemed purple prose as he uses a lot of flowery terms and so on. Can you explain this to me please? Thank you!

Let me see if I can use some visual imagery to help explain. 

This is an ornate gown. 

Lots of beads and baubles, yes, but used appropriately. There’s a pattern and a meaning to everything. It’s used with precision, with care, and in the right place. 

Here we have a tacky gown. There’s just too much going on. Beads, prints, different types of fabric, and none of it really goes together. There’s nothing for the eye to focus on. It’s a bit chaotic and confusing, and it’s kind of tiring to look at. 

Purple prose is kind of like the latter. Well written, descriptive prose can be a bit over the top at times, or use complex language, or wordplay. What matters is how it’s presented. It takes skill and practice to learn how to get it right and how to avoid falling into the trap of purple prose. 

THE MEMES THAT GOT ME THROUGH 2015

It’s December, there’s tinsel stuck willy-nilly all over everything and the year is almost over. This weekend, I’m taking a look back at 2015 and the memes that helped me survive this year online.

1. The dress

No conversation about 2015 memes would be complete without a discussion of THAT dress – so let’s get this over with at number one. I have never seen anything closer to mass hysteria than the ten minutes after the dress hit my office earlier this year. The mind-boggling, infuriating, squint-inducing phenomenon was both a cementer of friendships and a red flag for conflict. White and gold or blue and black. At the time I was a staunch and unmovable gold and white supporter – but revisiting the picture at the end of the year I can actually see both at the same time. Can I count this as a sign of personal growth this year? Whatever, I can see the Matrix.


Read full article on The Debrief

anonymous asked:

Harry has a child from a previously marriage and the child doesn't like y/n and is being mean to her. In the end Harry notices and they all make up x

THANK YOU SO FCKING MUCH FOR REQUESTING AND SAVING ME FROM BEING FOREVER ALONEE

( btw I put more visuals this time because I kinda like them?? )


“Daddy!” Mason’s short, dark curls bounce up and down from where it peaks out from behind Harry’s legs. “I wanna go to the park!”

You smile softly as Harry laughs, one of his hands reaching down to ruffle his son’s hair and the other one around your waist. “But today is Y/N’s birthday, don’t you wanna go to a restaurant and celebrate?”

Mason frowns, turning to face Harry completely. “Daddy, but Mommy’s gonna be at the park today!” Harry tightens his grip around you as you wince. “I heard from Katie that she is!”

Keep reading

Harry Styles: Pregnancy Series

Pregnancy Series #3 - “We’re Pregnant”.

(Word Count - 6, 023)

Here is the long awaited Pregnancy Series One Shot that was meant to be posted last night - I apologise greatly for not getting it up on time and having slight problems over the past couple of days. I know you’re all excited to read it and a few were getting impatient so I hope this lives up to what you expected. Thank you for being so patient with me - you’re all amazing and I love you so much! xx

PREGNANCY SERIES | WEDDING SERIES | MASTERLIST | LOUIS BLOG | LOUIS MASTERLIST | ASK BOX - REQUEST - COMMENT |

No Visuals.

* 4 WEEKS LATER, FEBRUARY 12TH *

Harry awoke from his deep sleep, your side of the bed cold yet still messed up from where your body had shuffled around upon the sheet. A stream of light made it’s way into the bedroom from the en-suite bathroom, the sound of running water and the toilet flushing making it’s way into the quiet bedroom where Harry was now laying wide awake. His mind wandering elsewhere to take his mind away from the sounds of retching and vomiting coming from the room just adjacent to the master bedroom. It was unusual for you to be sick at anytime of the year since you’d been the one to take care of the way you lived - you were forever making sure that you weren’t around anyone ill for long, with sincere apologies being given when they knew the reason to your want to leave, and you were forever making sure that you bundled up warm in the wintery months to save yourself from getting a cold or the flue, or even pneumonia at the extreme.

Harry had admired you for that. For taking care of yourself to make sure you were able to keep going on with life and doing the things you loved doing without a care in the world of being unable to do so with an iffy head or a dodgy tummy. So when you became ill, it was rare for Harry and he was somehow never use to the idea of looking after you at your time of weakness.

As he kicked the duvet away from his body, the sound of the toilet flushed again however this time the water and the bathroom light were switched off and your silhouette appeared in the darkened doorway separating the master bedroom from the en-suite bathroom. Harry listened to you as you coughed slightly into your hand, and reached for something upon the bedside table, your darkened figure shuffling around the room. He laid there still, his eyes trained to you as you tried to be as quiet as possible - with hopes you didn’t wake your sleeping husband from a sleep that was so well needed.

“Baby, are you feeling okay?” Harry’s voice came out, hoarse and deep and scratchy against his dry throat. “You’ve been sick for a week straight. I think I’ll take you to the doctors later on today, okay? To get you looked at. I’m worried,” he added, reaching an arm across to switch the lamp upon his beside table on, the light filtering around the room.

You were sat upon the edge of the bed, a flannel held to your forehead in one hand and another picking at the fraying material of your pyjama shorts. Soft sobs leaving your lips as you turned towards Harry who was sitting up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. His hair falling from the bun tied at the back of his head, hanging gently down his face and tickling at his chin ever so softly. Your eyes were red and bloodshot and your cheeks were flushing pink, your bottom lip trembling as you gained eye contact with him; his green eyes filled with concern and worry.

“I don’t want to go to the doctors today, Harry. Can we just leave it for another day or two? I’m fine honestly. It’s food poisoning,” you reasoned quietly, with fear of your voice catching if you spoke any louder. “I just want to sleep today and stay hydrated. I’m fed up with this and I’m going to sleep it of,” you mumbled, sending him a soft smile as you dabbed the wet flannel to your forehead.

“I’m worried about you, alright? You’re making me nervous. You’ve never been sick like this before,” he stated, shuffling across the bed and standing in front of you, falling to his knees and letting them rest against the soft and plus carpet. “I’ll give it a day. If you get worse or start to feel pain, I’m taking you to the GP, okay? Whether you like it or not.”

He took your free hand in his and rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, his skin felt warm against your cold ones and it contradicted to the heat radiating from your bodies.

“Fine. Just, can we go back to bed now? I’m tired,” you whispered, looking down to where he was staring intently up at you. “A cuddle with my husband sounds divine right now,” you giggled lightly, watching as the tips of Harry’s lips lifted into a warm smile. A nod was given your way as he stood himself back up, helping you back under the covers and tucking your up tightly before he made his way back around the bed.

“If you feel sick again, wake me up, okay? I won’t be angry,” he whispered as he grunted lightly when falling to the bed, his head hitting the pillow and his eyelids feeling instantly heavy and almost magnetic to one another. “I love you. I’m only wanting you better,” he added in a hushed voice, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he reached to turn the lamp off. Letting the bedroom consume the darkness it had had before.

“Harry, I’m scared.”

Your voice came out timid and small and it put a sense of fear upon Harry’s chest as he squeezed you to his body and kept his lips lingering at your hairline. One of your legs hitched over his stomach with an arm sprawled across his waist, your fore finger drawing shapes absentmindedly into the skin about where the waistband of his boxers sat on his hips.

“Scared of what, baby? There’s nothing to be scared of, okay?” He whispered, puffing out a soft breath.

“What if I’m really ill? That’s why I don’t want to go to the doctors. What if they tell me I’m ill and I need treatment and I don’t have long left and, I’m just really scared, H,” you mumbled, your warm breath fanning out across his chest where your head was positioned beside his left swallow tattoo on his collar bone. “I don’t want to leave you, and I don’t want to be ill,” you added, a small sob leaving your throat as Harry felt a tear wet his skin.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry, baby. It’s okay. It will all be okay, I promise. You’ve probably just got the stomach bug, or maybe your period is starting soon. I don’t know. But you’ll be fine, okay? You’re not seriously ill,” he murmured against your hair, his hand finding it’s way beneath the jumper adorning your upper body. “I won’t let anything harm you, I promise.”

“What if I’m sick, though? You’d leave me because I’d be a burden upon you. You wouldn’t want a sick woman by your side,” you muttered, looking up at his face illuminated by the light that had started to appear in the London sky outside of the curtain-covered windows. His jaw was chiseled perfectly and you could just about make out the slight freckles upon his cheeks.

“I wouldn’t leave you. I vowed to stick by you, remember? In sickness and in health. Does that ring any bells?” He asked, a slight hint of a smile in his voice. You nodded gently against his chest as you wiped at your eyes softly and sighed out, closing your eyes. “I love you. Sick or not, I love you. You’re my wife. My better half. My best friend. And my soulmate. I’m not leaving you now and I’m not eve considering leaving you at all, unless you asked me to leave,” he stated matter-of-factly, a smirk in his voice that had earned him a light slap to the chest.

“Can we give it a day before we go to the doctors? I just want to have a relaxing day in bed,” you whispered against his skin, muffling slightly.

“We can do that, baby. We can do that.”

* *

“Harry.”

A nudge to his shoulder.

“Harry, get off.”

A kick to the thigh.

“Harry, please. I don’t feel so good again. Let me go,” you mumbled, prying his tight hold from your waist and letting his hand fall to the bed with a thud against the springs. As you kicked the duvet from your body, his eyes slowly cracked open only to find you rushing into the bathroom in a hastily manner. The bedroom now lit with light from the mid-morning sun stream facing the house. “Fuck,” he heard you mumble lightly, the sound of retching following soon after through the slightly ajar door, his stomach dropping at the sounds.

He stood from the bed, his feet touching the carpet as he picked up an old and slightly worn out white t-shirt that had fallen in a heap the previous night. He shuffled across the floor of the bedroom, standing outside of the en-suite bathroom door where the sounds of your sickness were loud enough to send Harry’s tummy into a fluttering and grumbling mess. His hand slowly pushed the door open, a sight he hated to see coming into view.

“It’s alright, babe. I’m here. It’s okay,” he stated as he stepped into the bathroom, kneeling behind you as you hunched over the toilet bowl. “You’re okay. It’s alright. I’m here,” he repeated, his palm pressed to your back as he rubbed around in soft and soothing circular motions. “Get it all up. That’s it, baby.”

“I hate this. I just want to crawl in a hole and sleep until this passes,” you mumbled as you placed your head upon the arm you had resting upon the seat. Your face had lost colour and your nose was slightly running, your lips were wet and moist and your body was tensing and shaking slightly under his touch. “Can you get me some sickness pills? They’re in the top cabinet,” you asked, looking towards Harry out of the corner of your eye.

The heat and touch from him was lost as he stood to his feet and shuffled across the small space, approaching the mirror cabinet that had shelves of medicines and bath lotions behind it. As he scanned the top shelf of medicines, he came across the sickness pills that his mother had recommended when she had fallen ill one weekend - resulting in the two of you travelling down to Cheshire to help look after her whilst Robin was away on a business trip.

“Here you go. Let me just pour you some water,” he smiled, placing two of the sickess pills into your palm and grabbing an old plastic cup that had your toothbrushes held within it, filling it with water and immediately handing it to you. “Take ‘em. You’ll feel a little better once they take full effect,” he smiled, watching as one of your shaky hands popped the two pills into your mouth and your other held the plastic cup to your lips.

As you swallowed the two pills, you handed him the now half-filled cup and watched as he set it upon the counter, his eyes cautiously watching your every move as you stood from your place beside the toilet, flushing the chain before walking slowly yet shakily back into the bedroom; with Harry hot upon your heels.

“Do you want some dry toast? Or some dry crackers? Mum said they help a lot. I can go get some from the shop,” he offered, closing the bathroom door once he’d stepped back into the bedroom. He took in your position on the bed; crossed legs and your back resting against the headboard, the pillows bunching up and moulding the shape between your back and the board. “Or I can make you some fruit. And get some lemonade. That helped me a lot when I wa-”

“Harry, just leave me alone, yeah? I just need some peace,” you mumbled, a little louder than necessary, your hand covering your forehead as your eyes remained closed. “A little space would do me some good as well,” you added more sternly, as Harry’s face fell and he puckered his lips together softly.

“Okay. I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” he whispered, grabbing his phone from the bedside table and grabbing his old pair of black sweatpants, tugging them up his legs. “Would you like me t-”

“I’ll fine, Harry. I’m just going to sleep it off and hopefully wake up better than I feel now,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes tiredly as you comfortably shuffled yourself down on the bed, the duvet pulled up to your chin.

“Alright. I’ll be downstairs. Just give me a shout if you need me,” he smiled, and with that he preceeded out of the door. His footsteps slowly becoming inaudible as he made his way down the stairs, to the lower level of the house.

* *

In times of trouble, Harry had always gone to his mother for help. No matter what the problem had been, Anne was the parent he had gone to talk too when he needed to get something off of his chest. Whether it was back in his school ages and he was having problems with girls and asking girls out on dates, or whether it was in his singing career where he would call up his mother on a day where he felt particularly bad and was in dire need of comforting words - those of which that could only come from his mother. He felt his mother was a safe haven for him; with you being a close second now that you had agreed and vowed to stick by his side for the rest of his life.

And he was forever grateful that his mother would listen.

He was sure Anne thrived off of his emotional outbursts at times because it was times where he was vulnerable and in need of attention. Yes, he was one to show affection and he was one to hug and snuggle with someone until he felt better, however he was extra affectionate and stayed longer in the comforting arms of his mother at his times of vulnerability. She claimed his a mummy’s boy and, usually he would feel uncomfortable and embarrassed whenever she spoke about it in public, he wasn’t one to back away - no matter how embarrassed she made him. With red cheeks, bitten lips and a slightly ashen face, he was still there in his mothers presence.

And it was in times like this where he was thankful his mother was just a phone call away, to let him vent out his emotions and to let him talk about how he was feeling when it came to you and him disagreeing on terms that he knew would benefit you in the long run - however you were too beside yourself and too deep in your thoughts of being a burden to want the loving and caring attention of someone else.

And as he held the phone close to his ear, the dialling tone ringing out, he breathed out a sigh of despair and need.

“Harry, sweetheart, hello. How are you? This is an unusual time to call me,” Anne’s sweet voice came from the speaker, a hint of a smile lacing her voice as Harry let out a soft chuckle. “Is everything okay? I’m sensing a bit of uneasiness.”

“When you’re sick, how does Robin look after you?” He wondered, his eyes focusing upon the speckle dirt at the base of the back door to keep his mind from wandering else where. “Like, does he give you space? Does he buy you things to soothe your stomach? Does he just stay by your side?” He questioned, his free hand running through his greasy and matted hair that he had now released from the bun at the back of his head. The strands hanging down his bare shoulders as the cool air hit at his warm skin.

“What’s the matter? Is (Y/N) sick?” Anne cooed softly, the sound of a whistling kettle being heard in the background followed by a couple of clinks from a spoon hitting the porcelain. “If it makes you worry less, Robin’s been a bit sick as well. We’re thinking it’s the Chinese we had for your birthday meal a few days ago. I know your wife and him had the same meal,” Anne reprimanded, as a wash of relief coursed through Harry’s body with a breath of relief leaving his mouth - a breath he had no idea he had been holding in. “It’s nothing to worry about, okay? He’d been feeling dodgy for a day or two after that.”

However, something didn’t settle right in Harry’s tummy. He didn’t think this was food poisoning - much like you and his mother had thought.

“I just, she told me to leave her alone and I don’t want to leave her to be sick on her own, mum. She’s never been this sick before and it’s worrying me,” he whispered, moving his free hand from his hair to the tabletop of the kitchen table. “Whenever she’s sick, she’s not as grouchy as this and she’s always up for a cuddle even though she wants to be left alone. She always gives in and snuggles with me while we watch some TV. But,” he let out a soft yawn, “she looked so irritated by my presence and I’m not sure what to do.”

A soft sigh left Anne’s lips through the receiver and she could hear mumbling noises in the background, to which he could only guess Robin had woken and wondered why his wife was standing in the kitchen at ten to nine in the morning. He could picture his mother now - a dressing gown tied around his waist, her pyjamas on her body to keep her warm as the back door was opened to let the fresh air into the kitchen, her slippers on her feet and a sizzling breakfast cooking upon the stove. And he missed her. Even with you by his side, he was still in the mode of missing his mother and knowing she was miles away from him - with him unable to up and leave whenever he pleased.

“Sweetheart, sometimes people like to be left alone when they’re sick. You used to be such a grouchy teenager when you were ill. Always groaning and moaning and yelling when we tried to soothe you,” Anne laughed lightly,”but I promise you, she’ll be okay. If she gets worse, you should suggest taking her to the doctor. Or your own private GP. Harry, that will help her a lot.”

His GP was an elderly lady, named June, with a full education and experience of sicknesses and illnesses just like your own - heck, he’d been in plenty of times to get prescribed pills and medicines to make his immune system active and ready to participate in his daily activities again. He always felt at ease when talking with her and he was always sure to slip in a cheeky update upon how you were, with June being the curious one and wondering how his better half was doing.

“I guess. I just, I’m worried about her. I probably shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it, ya’know? She’s rarely sick so it’s something that happens on every few months,” he reasoned, “I was thinking some tea would help her. And maybe some dry toast or crackers. But, I’m too nervous to go up and see if she’s okay because I have no idea how she’d react,” he murmured, rubbing his face with his palm and knuckling at the sleep in his eyes.

“Sweetheart, stop. Make her some toast and give her some lemonade. And give her plenty of snuggles and make sure she’s warm and content,” Anne stated, her voice stern and warning as Harry nodded to himself. “But, I know you’ll look after her. You were raised well, Harry Edward.”

* *

(Gemma. The Missus.)

Are we still on for coffee later on? :) x

I doubt it, Gem. I’m still sick and I’m not sure how much longer I can last. I think I upset your brother earlier - I didn’t mean too. x

What did you do? Did you straighten his hair? Use his toothbrush? Oh, did you remove his socks from his feet when he was sleeping? Did you steal the covers? ;) x

None of those. I think he took the brunt of my mood swings. I woke up sick earlier this morning and then fell back to sleep, then I woke up again about half an hour to 40 minutes ago and was sick again and I felt tired and he was there. I may have told him to leave me alone … x

(Y/N), for goodness sake, the boy was trying to help you. He’s forever worrying about you. You should hear him on the phone to mum sometimes. God. ;) x

I mean it. I didn’t mean to get irritated with him but he was the only person here to get the brunt of everything. I feel terrible. x

How are you still sick anyway? It’s been almost a week. Sicknesses don’t last this long, do they? :/ x

We think it’s food poisoning but I’m worrying myself thinking it’s something worse; ya’know, like a life-threatening illness or stomach issues or a disease. I’m scared about going to the doctors but Harry said we could wait one more day, just to see if anything eases. x

I’m not trying to worry you anymore … But, maybe you should go to the doctors today? In case anything worsens? We don’t want anything to happen to you, and I can’t see my brother getting stressed anymore than he already is - just do it for him. Yeah? Calm him down. x

I guess. I just, I’m scared of bad results. What if I get told I have some kind of threatening illness? x

That’s preposterous. (see that, I used a big word.) If you’ve just been constantly sick over the week, maybe it’s just the flu and they can prescribe you with some pills to get you back on track. And with Harry’s comforting self, it will be in no time for sure. x

I haven’t just been sick, Gem. It’s the constant need to getting up and peeing about 7 times throughout the day, I feel suddenly sick as specific smells and my chest is beginning to get really sore. x

This might be a long shot, but … Maybe you’re pregnant? Have you even thought about the symptoms you’re having? x

..

.

(Y/N)? Are you okay?

I’ve missed a period. Gemma. I’ve missed my period. How have I just realised? Oh my god.

Maybe it’s just because you’re sick! I miss mine most of the time when I’m sick - it’s common. Don’t worry. I didn’t mean to worry you even more. x

I need to go. I’ll talk to you later.

* *

The rumbling of the car soon came to a stop as you looked to the small building in front of you, women and men entering and leaving momentarily as you remained in the car, the seatbelt still secure around your waist as you gulped softy. Harry’s presence beside you was enough to make you feel a little more comfortable but with Gemma’s worrying accusation and your fluttering stomach, it was beginning to feel too pressurable and it was as if at any given moment you would lose consciousness from fright.

“You’ve met June before, baby. She’s lovely. She’s cleared her afternoon when I called her up so we could pop in at any time during then, so, we can take as long as you need,” he smiled, his hand reaching over the console to grab your hand in his own. The rings on his fingers cool and cold against your warm skin. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do, okay? If you want to turn around, we can turn around and go home. Or we can go for a burger at McDonalds-“

“Please, don’t mention food, Harry. Or you’ll be cleaning your front footwell,” you muttered, lacing your fingers through his own as you looked down at his nails. “Let’s just go in, yeah? Get this over with and free my worrying brain,” you smiled weakly, trying to lighten the mood of the slightly awkward silenced car. A puff of breath leaving your husbands mouth as he pulled the keys from the ignition and hooked the keyring around his finger.

“Let’s go inside, baby.”

* *

It felt like hours until June had called you into her office. Both you and Harry sitting in the rather uncomfortable blue chairs outside as you waited patiently for her to call you in once she had everything sterile and ready to examine you. Your knee was constantly bouncing up and down as Harry tried to calm you with a palm pressed to your back and his thumb drawing soft circles into your muscle. When her voice sounded around the intercom of the waiting room, your head instantaneously whipped up to where Harry was already looking down at you, and with a reassuring nod, you stood from your chair with Harry following in suit.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll be right by your side the whole time, I promise,” he comforted, his hand coming into contact with the metal door handle upon the door - a door with a plaque saying ‘Dr. June Everly’ in bold black letters that were prominent against the silver backing. “She’s just going to look over you and possibly prescribe some tablets to make you better - you’ll be fine,” he smiled, giving your hand one hearty squeeze before pushing the door open with his shoulder.

“Hello, you two. It’s lovely to see you again. How have we been?” June’s voice came from her space at her computer in the corner - a computer used for writing confidential patient notes for further appointments - her glasses falling down her nose as she reached for a pair of plastic, cream gloves to prevent any infections from spreading. “I hear we’ve had a poorly missus. Is that so?” She asked, standing from her space and walking across the floor as Harry closed the door behind the two of you.

“We have one poorly missus here, we do,” he confirmed, turning on his heel to find you standing awkwardly beside the bed of the room. “She’s not a fan of doctors. I felt that if I brought her to you, then it would make her feel at ease because you look at me most of the time,” Harry reasoned, pressing his hand to the small of your back again to soothe you into the atmosphere. His lips were pressed your head in a matter of seconds and you tilted your head into his touch, your eyes closing softly.

“What’s the matter with (Y/N), then? Come and sit down at the desk, sweetheart. I won’t be doing anything with you today, okay? You’re alright. No needles, no prods or pokes and no blood being taken. Better than Harry, I can tell you,” June laughed, squeezing your arm softly in her hand as she guided you to the corner desk where her computer had been set up. You felt a wash of relief and worry pass through you as she confirmed the happenings of the appointment - because if there was one thing you were scared of, it was impromptu jabs or blood takings. “I’m telling you, your husband is here on a regular basis to give blood or to make sure he’s up to health. He’s a good man,” she added, watching as you took a seat in a wooden chair that was placed beside the end of her desk. “Now, what’s the problem? What can I do for you?”

“I’ve just been really sick for the past week and anything slightly amorous in smell sets me off more than usual. I mean, like, it’s been really bad over this week with sickness waking me up in the mornings and feeling uncomfortable in bed throughout the nights,” you said, your eyes looking out the window of the GP office to where the wind was blowing softly in the trees, catching under the leaves still attached to the branches. “It’s been going on for a few weeks but not as bad as this week.”

“And how were the other few weeks before this?”

“I felt nauseous most of the time. It was nothing bad enough to make me need go to bathroom to handle it, and I was able to take a few sickness pills and it disappeared after an hour or so. I figured it was just my period starting but, I’ve not had it yet,” you stated, catching June’s glance at Harry as he looked at you in adoration. “I figured I’m just slightly irregular this month because I’ve been ill and that, so, I haven’t worried too much about it.”

That was a teeny lie. Ever since Gemma’s text that morning, the thought of a missed period and a pregnancy upon you had been worrying your mind ever since - and deep down you were nervous for the answer. Yes, you and Harry had spoken about having children and it was the butt end of your pillow talk after soft nights of kisses and cuddles under the light of the street lamp filtering in from the street outside of the house. However, there was always doubt in your mind that you weren’t ready for that just yet, and as much as you wanted to make Harry happy with the desire he’d been longing for since his first time seeing babies, you felt that your own feelings and desires needed to be put first in this instance.

“This is a question I have to ask,” June added, looking up from her notepad as she placed her pen down upon the paper, “I presume you’re both sexually active, am I right?”

A blush formed upon your cheeks as you looked towards Harry who was smirking softly with his own red cheeks.

“I’m going to take the blushing cheeks and smirking as a yes, and I’m going to just put my own thoughts across first,” she started, folding her arms across her chest as she looked between the two of you, “I’m suggesting we take you into the next room and take a urine sample from you, (Y/N), because I’m pretty sure your symptoms are coming across as clear cut and obvious,” June smiled, reaching forward and pressing a hand to your knee.

“What does that mean?” Harry asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

“It means that I have a slight inkling that the two of you might be having a baby in the next eight to nine months.”

“I’m pregnant?” You asked, more to yourself than to anybody else in the small office, a nod being the only confirmation from June as she let the news sink into your mind. “With a baby? I’m pregnant? We’re going to be parents? Are you- Is this really happening?” You whispered, your voice cracking in the silence of the room.

“It’s my own opinion, (Y/N). But from your symptoms of nausea, sickness in the mornings and feeling uncomfortable, I’d like to think that’s the reason to you feeling so under the weather and slightly ill,” she smiled, standing up from her desk as she shuffled around Harry’s chair with a squeeze to his shoulder. “Look at his eyes. You might be having a baby, Harry.”

You might be having a baby.

A baby.

A mini you. A mini Harry.

A creation of the two of you after a night filled with passion and love.

A baby.

As June appeared beside you, a plastic cup was handed to you as well a topper for you to push on top as soon as you were finished.

“If you pop to the loo next door,” she pointed to her right, “then you can have all the time you need in there to pass urine for us to send to the lab. These results will be back within the next 2 to 3 days and we’ll call you up with the results,” June smiled, releasing her fingers from the cup as you took it within your grasp.

“I’ll pop to the corner shop, get you some water, and I’ll be back in a second, okay? I’ll come sit with you, make sure you’re okay,” Harry smiled, digging around in his pocket for his wallet. “I love you. I’ll be back soon. Go wait for me,” he added, standing from his seat and hunching over you to press his lips to your hairline.

* *

“Can you believe it…” Harry mumbled from his space beside you on the sofa, your feet kicked up into his lap and resting upon a cushion that would usually be placed behind his back. “In the next 2 to 3 days, we could be parents. Our baby could be inside you right now, splitting cells and turning into a mini you or a mini me. That’s crazy. We’re having a baby,” Harry grinned, turning his head from the TV where an old episode of Friends was playing to your face, his eyes twinkling under the light of the room.

“I’m stuck with two of you now. This could be a fun filled life for me, I’m telling you,” you giggled, shuddering slightly as you felt his hand creep up your thigh and settle underneath the jumper that was adorning your upper body. His fingertips danced across the space below your belly button before his palm came into full contact with your skin, his wrist pushing up the material slightly and letting your body commence into the cold air of the room.

“Hi, baby. It’s your daddy. I’m your daddy. That’s a bit crazy to say. I can’t believe we’re finally having you. We love you so much and we can’t wait to meet you and I hope you turn out just like mummy because I could really use another one of her around,” he winked up at you before turning his attention to your belly. “I love you, so much. Don’t forget that okay? You’re going to be so spoilt in this family, I’m telling you.”

“Harry, we don’t know if they’re real yet. Stop jumping ahead,” you murmured, earning a hush and finger to your lips as he stared into your eyes.

“They can hear you,” he teased.

* *

* TWO DAYS LATER *

“It’s now or never. Are you ready for your results?” June smiled, an envelope in her hands as you looked to Harry and squeezed his hands tightly. “I have real hope for you guys, I really do. And I’ll happily take on being your local doctor and helping you through when you need it. I may not be a midwife, but I can work along side them,” she added, handing you the envelope and watching as your shaky hand took hold of the paper.

“Are you ready?” You asked, looking up at Harry who was staring down at the paper that had ‘Mr and Mrs Styles’ written in scrawny writing along the top. “I feel so nervous,” you whispered.

“I’m ready to find out. We might be parents, babe. A mummy and a daddy to a little baby Styles,” he cooed, his own nerves building up with his body. “Open it. Let’s find out our future.”

And with that, the sounds of ripping paper could be heard around the silenced room, the three of you inside anxious about the results that were held tightly in your hands. As you pulled the folded paper from inside the envelope out, you couldn’t help but squeak out in nervousness, as your fingers nimbly unfolded the white sheet. Black text was scattered around the page followed by symptoms and a graph of the urine sample you had sent in, confusing you even more as you read.

Until you heard Harry gasp in shock. His voice catching.

“We’re pregnant. We’re having a baby. We have a baby on the way - how is that, how? Oh my god. We’re parents,” he whispered tearily, his arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you to his body. “I love you so much, I really do. You’re everything to me,” he cried, his head dropping to your shoulder as you felt tears seep into your cotton material.

“I love you too, Harry. Or should I say daddy,” you giggled, resting your head against his. “We’re pregnant, Harry. We’re really having a baby.“

MY 2016 TECH RESOLUTIONS

Well good morning fine people and a happy 2016 to you! Sadly the merriment cannot last forever and now the tinsel, leftover trifle and novelty date shaped glasses are all on their way to the bin, it’s time to start pondering on the year ahead. Let’s hastily forget the ill advised midnight smooches that actually brought in the New Year and instead focus on some much better intentioned resolution ideas – with a techy flavour, of course.

Declutter your emails

From bars in towns you no longer live in, to online shops you bought one gift from three years ago, most of us are guilty of letting our inboxes become like strange collections of clues to our former selves. It might not be spam exactly, but it’s not especially relevant any more… and you’re sure as hell not reading it all.


Read full article on The Debrief

TGML #4

Pregnancy Series -  Part 4: I Can Do This On My Own

A/N: So I kinda got carried away with this part, but oh well. I hope you like it, let me know what you think!! xx

Part One
Part Two

Part Three

“Hey, babe, you almost ready?” You hear Mia ask through your bedroom door, “Harry’s here.”

“Yeah, almost,” You answer her, studying yourself in the mirror as you debate whether or not to change your outfit one last time, “Can you send him up, please? I need to talk to him about something.”

Moments later a soft knock comes at your door seconds before Harry walks in, “Hey, um, Mia said you wanted to talk to me..,” He trails off, his eyes sweeping over your body as you fiddle with your outfit.

“I’m getting fat,” You announce abruptly much to his discomfort, “You’d think that with the amount of puking I’ve done in the past few weeks I’d still fit in my clothes, but think again,” You complain, unbuttoning your pants and rolling them down your legs, “Oh, relax,” You snap as he stares at you in shock, “It’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”

“Yeah, but it’s different now,” He stutters awkwardly his eyes focused on the floor as he fights not to stare at you; “You’re pregnant.”

Keep reading

My little artsy witch son, painting new flowers he finds in his spell books along with the remedies and other uses, plus he cannot forget his lunch date with Niall again, no matter how interesting the affects of crystal healing on bunnies are


Bonus Spellbook page:

Harry Has a Child From Another Relationship + He Hates You (Part 2)

THANK YOU ALL WHO REQUESTED FOR THIS AND HAVE BEEN WAITING

Harry’s POV

I could only let my mouth hang open.

Every blink seemed to take an eternity.

I could only stare at the door in which she left from.

Today was supposed to be perfect.

Not like this.

Today was supposed to be glorious.

Not like this.

Today was the day I was going to propose to her.

Not like this.

The ring sat heavy in it’s box, in the inside pocket of my jacket.

It was the perfect ring, too. I caught her looking at it through the glass of a jewelry store. I bought it behind her back, that very day. That was two months ago.

I was ready for her 2 months ago.

I was so sure of everything.

Everything was supposed to be perfect.

Not like this.

“Daddy?” 

I glance down at my feet to see Mason peering up at me with wet eyes. “Yes, Mase?”

“It’s my fault,” my son starts crying and tugging on my jeans. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean–”

I could only smile. Tears formed in my eyes. I bend down next to him and take his small frame into mine. “I was going to propose, Mase.” I pull out the ring and he gasps. “She was going to be your new Mommy.”

“It was my fault,” Mason could only cry out those words.

I furrow my eyebrows. “Don’t be silly, you didn’t do anything.”

“I told Y/N all those bad things,” tears come down hard on my son’s cheeks. “How she didn’t even love you and how she didn’t deserve you and–”

I let out a sigh, “Mason, why would you say those things? Do you honestly mean them and do you know what you just caused for Daddy? What you made Daddy lose?”

“I’m sorry,” Mason’s sobs shake his shoulders. “I didn’t know you loved Y/N…I thought you still loved Mommy but was too scared to say so.”

“Is that what Mommy told you?”

“…yes…”

I jumped to my feet, gently tugging Mason along behind me, and face my ex-wife. The reason why we got married in the first place was because she was already pregnant with Mason and I wasn’t about to walk out on her–not when she needed my help. 

I tried so hard to love her, I really did, but she wasn’t my type. Y/N was. No, Y/N is.

“Why did you influence my son to think that I didn’t love Y/N?” I try to keep my voice at a medium level–considering Mason was right beside me–but I couldn’t reign in my own anger. “You knew that I loved her!”

“He’s my son too!” She exclaims. “Do you know how much it hurt to have him taken away from me? You have full custody!” She breaks down in tears. “I only get to see him on special holidays–but even then I’m an outsider. Your parents judge me and your friends stare at me and…and it’s horrible, Harry. I…I hate seeing you happy. I want you to be as miserable as I am. So I’m not sorry Y/N walked away from you. About time that bitch realised she was pathetic.”

I squeeze Mason’s hand so hard he yelps. I clamp my palms over his ears and snap, “And this is exactly why I have full custody. You are not going to see him ever again now, you hear me? Never again.”

Picking Mason up, I swing his little coat over my shoulder and walk out of that restaurant, praying to God that’s the last time I will ever see my ex-wife again. When we reach my car, I tuck Mason in safety in the back seat, and he asks, “Daddy, can I see the ring?”

I hesitate, before pulling it out of my pocket and pulling the small black lid open. It catches the sunlight and it reflects in his eyes. “It’s very pretty,” my son smiles and I nod, wiping the few stray tears that cling onto his chin. “What are you going to do with it now? Are we gonna go see Y/N? I wanna say sorry.”

I smile and ruffle his hair. “Of course we’re going to see Y/N, I still have to propose, remember?”


Your POV

You didn’t know where to go when you stormed out.

You couldn’t go back home because Harry might find you there, and you certainly couldn’t go back to his place. And you didn’t have any friends who were in town to crash at.

You were completely alone.

Getting out of the cab a block away from your home, you start wandering aimlessly on the streets. Couples pass you with their hands swinging back and forth and children run past you as if hell’s on their tail.

Today was your birthday.

You were supposed to be the happiest you could be today.

What went wrong?

You kick a pebble and it sent other ones flying too. You find yourself in a park. It’s not one you usually visit–since you weren’t a huge fan of the outdoors and it’s bugs–and the last time you came here was with Mason, when you two first met about two years ago.

Memories of him and Harry sting your brain.

You didn’t realise how much time had passed until someone tapped your shoulder. You were standing by a pond, with your head turned down to face your reflection–and that’s how you saw him.

“Y/N,” he breathes. You can tell he has been searching for you a long time from the way his fingers curve towards yours. “I love you.”

You tuck a strand of hair behind an ear, turning to face him, “You’ve come all this way to–” And you gasp.

Because he’s down on one knee and he’s holding up a ring. He grins broadly at your shocked expression and says with tears in his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Y/N Y/L/N. I don’t think you’re only with me for my money because you won’t even let me buy you this goddamn ring when I asked, so I had to get it behind your back–”  you laugh at this, “–and I hope you know that you belong with me just as much as the stars belong in your eyes. And I hope you know I mean it with all my heart when I say:  I love. And lastly, I hope you will marry me.”

“I will, I mean–I do, isn’t that what people say?” Your face gets flustered and he laughs, sliding the ring onto your finger.

Originally posted by lilpieceofmyworld

Originally posted by toasttostyles