thanks you harry

anonymous asked:

Hey G, I think I asked a while ago but can you pls do another of the things harry does post? Part 3?

part one | part two

- will drink your coffee/tea and make a grimace for you because “there’s too much sugar here, pet”

- call on your phone in the middle of the day to ask what’s the name of the song you were listening early, because now it’s stuck in his head

- wakes you in the middle of the night just because he remembered the thing he wanted to tell your earlier but couldn’t remember

- put both hands between his thighs when he’s watching a scary movie, for safety of course

-  tries to persuade inanimate objects to do things in the way he want, like when the printer is too slow and he tries to convince it to be faster, as if it could hear/ answer him

- still get nervous when he has to talk with your father, calling him Mr and Sir all the time, even after your father said that it wasn’t necessary

- pull you to sit on his lap while he’s talking on the phone, kissing and biting your back/neck/shoulder while you giggle

- say “who yeh’re smiling at?” while you scroll down on your phone as fast as possible so he won’t know that you were smiling at the pics of him with his fans in his last trip

- put a pillow under his shirt while you complete your nightly routine, rubbing his belly, looking at you and saying “see? I’m having your baby” 

- Do a weird medley of songs while he sings in the shower, going from “twinkle twinkle little star” to “woman” and finishing with “isn’t she lovely?”, always thanking the ‘audience’ for having him

- hold you from behind after you shower and says “I’m gonna smell yeh till all the perfume fade away”

- will braid your hair while you’re siting between his legs on the floor, reading out loud a old poetry book he found in a book fair

- tries to twerk when he’s sure that no one is watching

- put his cold hands on your neck just to see your body shiver with it

- has a smug smile on his face after he listened to you talking with your friend and saying how much you love him and how good you feel when you’re with him

- pouts deeply when he’s thinking about something important and you feel the need to kiss the  wrinkle on his forehead, making him smile with that

- get embarrassed when you start to poke his dimple and teasing him about how pretty he is, and how seductive his dimples are

- loves when your mom tell him stories about your childhood, asking for her if he can take some pictures of the little you - in a bath, playing with a pink ball - with him, saying that if you don’t let him sleep on your arms tonight, he’ll post them tomorrow on twitter

- cries every time he watch “The Notebook”, hiding his face on your neck and asking you if “yeh’ gonna love me till I get old? Even if I don’t remember who yeh are?” as you promise him that yes, you’ll always love him, no matter what

-  smiles embarrassed when you look at this hands and say “ omg harry you’re naked!” because he’s without his rings™, hiding his hands behind his back

first, sorry for taking so long do to this! it’s been months since you asked me and i was procrastinating as usual. second, thanks to @theheadcanonsawakens (ridicula) and @stylishmuser for helping me! i love you both very much a lot!

edit: i felt the need of add a gif on this.

Emotional Cheating | 2

1 -


“God forbid I get tired, Harry.”

The words Harry once neglected before were now imprinted in his mind, not leaving once you did. It was those simple words he knew not to fuck up ever again.

He knows how you are. He knows what you meant by those words. He knows that by what you said, it didn’t mean that you want God to forbid you from being tired physically. He already knew you are every day.

You meant that you didn’t want to get tired in the aspect that you were more than ready to give up. Harry knew how well you could keep up because he’s seen it before.

And God forbid you get tired of him.

There was a thought that appeared from his sub-conscious, making him almost jump in his seat in response of how much he hated it, his large hands gripping his hair.

Alcohol isn’t advisable nor recommended at the moment. It wouldn’t help his case and he knew that exactly.

You though of it too. But minutes later, you found yourself sitting next to the mini refigerator your room has with a beer in hand, putting a bill on the counter with a note because you didn’t want to be like one of those obnoxious guests.

The floor and the beer’s cold, and so is Harry’s flat. He didn’t want to call it home because you weren’t there with him and so was he mentally to be even considered as one.

“Can I call now?”

Harry’s hands were shaking, his thumb reaching out to press ‘send’ along with his hand that reached for your blanket you used to wrap yourself in whenever you were waiting for him, squeezing it.

It took every bit of Harry to stop himself from hurling objects across the room. He’d close his eyes and breathe deeply, until your words of “Self-control, love.” came into effect. He admits that he doesn’t have the longest of tempers and the highest dosage of control.


His attention is fully fixed on his phone now, another pang on his chest when he saw your reply.

He specifically told you not to put periods at the end of your messages because it scared him. Maybe it’s the changed meaning every time there’s a punctuation, maybe it’d the formality.

And right now, he has every reason to be.

“Don’t get tired on me yet. You’re not going to get tired, you’re not. You’re not tired.”

Harry muttered the words once you accepted the call, not letting a single second going to waste since he precisely has 300 of it.

He’s slowly losing his right state of mind without you by his side. He was so used to being tolerated for the way he is that he forgot how to not feel when it was the other way around.

“It’s not for me to decide but I’m trying to influence you to it. The only time you’re going to be tired is when we’re gonna take care of our future kids. You’re only going to be tired when you’re out of breath not because of a fight, but from something we both like.”

Harry’s tears were pouring involuntarily with him not having any control over it, the hoarseness of his voice slightly hurting his throat from speaking faster normally than how he did.

“You’re only going to be tired when we’re packing bags to go on vacation and on tour. You’re only going to be tired from jet lag and lack of sleep and not from us. The only time you’re going to be tired is when we fight with our kids and that’s it.”

The hurt in his chest was starting to get unbearable now, the grip on the blanket to the point where his hand was going numb and his knuckles going white were getting the best of him.

His voice cracked, completely letting go of his ego and his pride, a desperate plea coming from his lips he’s willing to repeat if that’s what’s going to make you agree.

“You’re not going to get tired on me, Y/N. And that’s final.”

He used up a minute, being scared of the remaining ones because those are the last moments he’s going to hear your voice for that day.

“I know I haven’t gave you the best of reasons to not be, and I know that. I do. But love, please listen to me.”

“I know what you’re doing.”

His heart skipped a beat when he heard your voice since he didn’t expect for you to talk, he knew silence was the only thing you could muster in times like these.

“I’m trying to make you come home.”

“Is there home?” you asked in a whisper and ended with a harsh tone in your voice.

“There is.”

His grip loosened, opening and closing his hand repeatedly until he could feel the warmth go back to his veins again.

“Do you love me?”

Harry felt rigid, a cold shiver down his spine from what you asked because he never thought it would come to this. He never thought that you would ask him for confirmation if he still loves you because at moments like this, there was no other choice.

“I do.”

You leaned your head against a cabinet which made you let out a cry, not because of the pain but because of what he answered, an angry cry coming out of your lips that alerted Harry, sitting up straighter.

“Then why the hell did you do it?”

He felt his breathing come shallow, his gaze going elsewhere that didn’t make any sense.

“Because I only thought of myself.”

He’s right.

Maybe you were too selfless that you put Harry on top of your priorities that you weren’t on his.

Too selfless.

“Because I wasn’t thinking.”

You remembered all the nights you would greet him by the door with a hug he’d reciprocate half to, ignoring the pain it caused because you love him too much that it hurt you.

Too much.

“Because I wasn’t thinking of you and I deeply regret that.”

You spilled too much over the tipping point of your rock-bottom, the pain being overwhelming that you were momentarily numb from it until he spoke again.

“There isn’t anyone like you. And I’d rather not have the chance to find that out because I’m not going to take any.”

His voice was stern yet still gentle, a tone on his voice that you barely heard these past few months.

“I’m selfish; I know. I do know that. I’m selfish when it comes to having you because I just am.”

Harry breathed in deeply, his tears decreasing and so is his voice.

“I may not be the best at all things. But I know I’m selfish when it comes to having you because you make me feel like I am. And Y/N, I love that.”

He was starting to get calm now but not too much that he was confident of having you again since he didn’t want to jinx it, a tentative look on the door.

“Please come back here. I know — I know that I don’t hold the many promises that I make but I swear to God that this is real.”

He closed his eyes, wanting to desperately feel you by his side.

“You are my home.”

The phone dropped, making Harry almost break down right then and there and doubt himself that he didn’t try hard enough. That maybe he was too stupid to take you for granted and have this result.

He was so close to hurling his phone against the wall but no, he decided against that because he’s going to call you tomorrow. Maybe he’s going to call you so he put it down again, an uneasy look on his face.

Minutes or hours passed since he wasn’t sure of it passed and he spent the majority of it crying. He didn’t know why but he chose to relive by the words you told him and how broken you looked. He didn’t know why but it pained him to realize that he’s going to be the only one to do that to you.

He doesn’t know whether it’s a privilege or not.

And so, just as he felt to break the rules and let a friend track your call, the door opened.

You were there standing, a moment of realization hitting you from the moment that you ended the call is that you wouldn’t have it either way.

You’d rather be hurt because of Harry than to not at all.

He stood up instantly, taking careful steps towards you before it sank in him, hugging you so tightly and closely that you could feel his tears streaming down on your neck.

He cried onto you, heavy breathing filling the aie as you let him do it, your arms wrapping around him which made him more than grateful.

He whispered the words, but still loud and powerful enough for you to hear and to be inked forever into you.

You knew it later on by his song, yet it was the most precious to him since it held the most meaning to him, and so did it on to you, letting him convice you to get the title inked onto you, still in the meaning where only he gets to know.

“You bring me home.”

anonymous asked:

100 please

100. I can feel your heart beating

It had all started in the 2nd grade, when Harry Styles pushed Y/N Y/L off the monkey bars during lunch time recess.

It had resulted in Y/N breaking her arm and Harry, in a panic, fleeing the scene like nothing had happened and leaving Y/N there to cry on the prickly bark chips. After 7 year old Harry was confronted by the teachers, he remembered what his older sister had told him when it came to adults: deny, deny, deny. He got off the hook that day, much to Y/N’s anger. That was ten years ago.

Y/N didn’t hate a student more passionately as she did Harry. Harry didn’t even have a reason to hate her so he resorted to teasing her and picking on her, whether it be throwing out sarcastic compliments to squeezing her sides to get her to yelp. Y/N hated it but Harry? He loved it.

“Lookin’ good today, love!” Harry whistled as he passed by Y/N and her group of friends.

She glared at him and called out, “Fuck you!”

“Time and place!” He responded, carrying on down the school halls with a smirk on his face.

During their shared French class, they were apart of the same table group but Y/N would never talk to Harry, sticking to talking to the other two kids at their table.

He would pass her notes in French while a lesson was occurring, aiming and throwing it to her face.

“Tes yeux, j'en rêve jour et nuit.”
I dream about your eyes day and night.

Y/N would look up at him, no hint of a smile anywhere on her face and scribble on the back,

“Ferme ta gueule.”
Shut the fuck up.

Every rude joke he attempted, every sarcastic compliment he tried would be shut down by her, as she was having none of Harry Styles’ bullshit.

It was one day, Y/N was walking down the halls of her high school, holding the attendance sheet she promised she would deliver to the office. Classes were in session meaning the halls were empty and vacant, her footsteps echoing down the walls.

As fast as it happened, the janitor’s door flew open and out reached a hand on Y/N’s hoodie, dragging her in without another sound.

“What the hell!” Y/N screamed only to have a hand fly to her mouth.

“Shh! Ya’ don’t want the principal to hear us, do you? Don’t be daft and keep your voice down.”

“Harry I swear to god—!” She argued, smacking his hands off of where it still clutched onto her mouth.

The janitor’s closet was dark and dusty, all the scents of cleaning chemicals mixing into one big, disgusting disinfect smell. The room was cramped, forcing Y/N and Harry nearly chest to chest with each other.

“Move from the doorway and let me out.” She rolled her eyes, attempting to scoot him to the side. But Harry meerly took her by the shoulders and planted his lips onto hers.

Y/N made a sound of surprise, scrunching her eyebrows as she felt Harry work his mouth on hers, occasionally sucking in her lower lip between his.

Harry Styles had not only broken her first bone, but also taken her first kiss.

“I can feel your heart beating.” He said with a smile, lifting only a centimeter off her mouth to speak. When she didn’t reply he cupped her neck, allowing her to shove him away but when she didn’t, he pressed short, stagnant kisses to her lips.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, using his thumb to stroke her jaw line.

“I mean — you just randomly pulled me into the janitor’s closet to make out with me — how am I okay?”

“Do you want me to stop?” He answered with a low voice but she shook her head much to his delight.

“Is this your first kiss or sommat?”

“Well it was.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Aw, how fun.” He grinned. “Let’s make it memorable then.”

wintersolacee  asked:

Hiya! Do you think Harry Potter has some problematic elements in it? If so, how do you deal with them? I was just thinking about the masses of things i've interpreted differently to how JKR intended them, to the point where the opinion of the creator of this world is almost irrelevant in my mind? Maybe that's kind of an odd thing to have done, but anyway, hope your day's picking up x

((OOC: Okay, I’m trying to figure out the right way to answer this. Because I have a lot of thoughts on this subject, but I’ve not tried to put them down in words before now, so, bear with me here.

Keep reading

exotisque  asked:

Prompt: Tomarry | Sunshine

Thanks so much for sending this in!! I had a lot of fun with it <3

“You better be keeping your eyes closed,” Tom’s voice warned from somewhere up ahead. His hand was still tightly laced with Harry’s, reassuring him that he wasn’t going to suddenly disappear or lead him astray.

“I am,” Harry protested, placing his free hand over his eyes just for good measure. “How much longer until we get where we’re going?”

“It won’t be much longer,” Tom promised, squeezing his hand once.

Harry huffed. They had to have been traveling for at least half an hour by then, ever since Tom had shaken him awake early that morning, insisting that he had something to show him.

After they’d showered and dressed, Tom and Harry had carefully and quietly slipped out of Wool’s before anyone else had time to wake. From there, they’d gone into Diagon Alley and apparated away once they’d reached the point.

(Tom didn’t care that he wasn’t licensed yet. After what had happened third year, he refused to care about the legality of unlicensed apparating. Harry, who had seen the scars firsthand, let him have that.)

They’d landed in the center of a dirt road that was flanked by trees, smack dab in the middle on what appeared to be nowhere. Before Harry could even ask where they were, Tom had demanded that he shut his eyes until told otherwise. From there, they had begun the trek. It was early enough in the morning that the stifling heat of July hadn’t quite kicked in, and the sunlight dappling through the trees felt nice on Harry’s cool skin.

“Okay.” Tom’s voice rang out quietly as he slowly pushed Harry’s hand back in a signal for him to stop walking. “You can open your eyes again.”

They had come to a stop at the end of the dirt road, which opened up to a clearing large enough to fit the house that sat there, and then some.

The house itself was shaky, and clearly hadn’t been tended to in years. Grass grew tall enough to to obscure the small front porch, and the home had probably seen far better days. The windows were covered with a thick layer of dirt, and the wood looked to be rotted through in some spots.

“It’s going to need a lot of work,” Tom said, voicing Harry’s thoughts. “But I figure- I thought it’d be nice. He turned to face Harry, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable- something that had shadowed every part of him since June.

“It would be better than having to sneak around the orphanage,” Harry agreed, giving him a small, hopefully reassuring smile. “How long do you think it’d be before we got this place up to scratch?”

Tom considered the question for a moment. “I could ask Abraxas for one of his elves,” he mused slowly. “And it would do everything we need. I’d say a week at the most.”

An eyebrow raised in amusement. “You’ll ask?” Harry questioned. “Or demand?”

“Ask,” Tom emphasized, his eyes narrowing. He shifted guiltily. “I- I know I have not been the best person, and I know I won’t be. I can’t just change who I am because of what I’ve seen.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “However, I do not- I do not want to end up living the future I saw.”

Harry nodded empathetically. He could understand why Tom would come to that conclusion, and he was grateful for the fact that he was even sane enough to.

“Either way, given what you’ve told me about your life in the…future, I thought you would want a sanctuary away from everything once I begin a political career,” Tom told him, changing the subject. He gently tugged their still-joined hands. “Would you like to see the inside?”

Harry nodded again, his smile growing just a bit wider. “Sure,” he agreed, striding ahead.

The porch steps creaked loudly as they walked up them, and the porch itself felt very unsteady. Harry stood back so Tom could open the door, and they stepped inside together.

Dust. Dust everywhere.

The house was stuffy and drafty, and it had the musty smell of stale air and a hint of earthy mold. The lighting was really dim, though it thankfully didn’t impact them actually seeing a lot. While the house being empty was a major plus, there was a layer of grime at least an each thick on every surface.

“Wow,” Harry murmured in amusement, tentatively walking forward. Where his footfalls landed, an ensuing groan from the floorboards sounded. “This is all ours?”

Tom cleared his throat. “Yes,” he confirmed. “Once we graduate from Hogwarts, I was thinking we could also begin renting a flat in Diagon, or in a wizarding town somewhere close by.”

“Hogsmeade?” Harry asked, turning back to face Tom. He had stepped to the side and was leaning against the wall. Harry would have been shocked by that, if not for the fact that Tom was wearing a rattier set of clothes from Wool’s.

“Maybe,” Tom conceded with a single nod. “It would be useful if you landed the Defense position I know you must have your eyes on.” His expression shifted then, to the same more unsure one once again, more anxious. “I know this can’t ever be a replacement for what ‘home’ must have meant to you in your own time, but-”

“I love it,” Harry emphasized, walking over to Tom and taking both of his hands in his own. “I made my choice to stay here anyway, and I don’t think I’m going to regret it.” He leaned forward and kissed Tom gently, pulling away again before he could reciprocate. “I don’t regret it, Tom. I love you.”

Tom’s face scrunched up for a moment. “If you’re sure,” he mumbled. He released his hands from Harry’s hold and pulled him in close, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his lips against Harry’s forehead. “Promise me you’ll let me know when that changes?”

“It won’t,” Harry murmured back, leaning into Tom’s warm embrace. “But okay. I promise.”

bingewatchingmylifegoby  asked:

Remus: You want me to do what? Me: I want you to go and cuddle with Erika. R: *looks at me confused* You want me to cuddle with you? Me: *face palms* No, the other Erika. R: Okay, but why? Me: Because she's sad and needs cuddles. Now go! R: Alright, alright, I'm going! Just let me grab some chocolate and an extra jumper, it sounds like she needs it. (There you go, hun! Remus should be arriving to cuddle with you soon.)

aHHHHH you’re such a sweetie, thank you so much, oh my goodness you lil’ cutie this cheered me right up. What a lovely thing to wake up to. Oh my goodness I’m hugging you right now gaHHHH thank you!!!

Just imagine it though? You’re feeling lonely because you’re the only one in Grimmauld Place but you don’t know that Remus is in the library with a glass of wine and a book and he comes looking for you because he knows you very well and knows that something is going on and then he knocks on your door. You straighten up and wipe your tears away and he comes in with a sheepish expression in his huge cardigan with the mismatched patches, even though Sirius bought him new ones he can’t bring himself to throw this one out. He takes it off and you lean forward as he comes towards you and he drapes the cardigan over your shoulders and you snuggle into it, surrounded by Remus’ scent and you feel a little smile on your face. He sits beside you on the bed without saying a word and he opens his book and you curl into him and his melodic voice lulls you to sleep. When you wake up, Sirius is in the doorway with a camera Harry gave him and he’s snapped a ton of shots of you and Remus cuddling while asleep. AH MY HEART <33333 


Have a very drarry Christmas!

(i know it’s past i’m sorry) but this one’s for ya’ll! Thank you so much for everything, these past months have been so much fun ヾ(♡ ³♡)ノ Especially @avoidakedavra for being the sweetest and most supportive person ever


Happy Halloween, everyone! Be safe (VERY IMPORTANT) and have fun~ <3