#I miss harry so much

[permrry]

.

[machinerot]

[theroguesue]

still not over seeing my babygirl live

[hsonlyangelxo]

Off stage Harry is so soft 🥺🥹🤏🏻❤️

[kiwikiwiandkiwi]

HARRY BEING HARRY ON TOUR — Love on Tour: UK + Europe Leg, 2023

[aka-lorterian]

[letsmakesomeonehappytoday]

choke her with a sea view ✨

[raycani]

You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man

[loveofmylifeh]

Harry Styles | Love On Tour LA | Palm Springs 2 | 01 February 23

Photos : kennacordiano

[xjustakay]

✺ (1/8) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: converse — 1,130 words (jegulus dads ft. harry; going through harry’s baby things)

“Oh no.” There’s a dramatic level of pain in James’ voice —there has been all afternoon since they started this project— and Regulus sighs quietly, lips twitching at the corners. “Reg, look at these.”

Regulus finishes folding the quilt that Pandora made for Harry to leave the hospital in, sets it in its new box marked ‘keep,’ then turns to his husband. 

This has been a common occurrence as they’ve undertaken this task; going through Harry’s baby things to see what they truly need to hold onto and what can be donated has been an emotional journey. Admittedly, Regulus is having a progressively difficult time keeping it together the more that they find, but he’s let James be the one to express the feelings they’re both experiencing. Loudly and repetitively.

Balanced on James’ wide palm is a pair of infant-sized Converse, so tiny it’s hard to believe they ever belonged to a person, much less that that person was the five year old that’s currently coloring at a folding table in the corner of their garage. The little shoes are red, matching a pair that James has kept consistently replaced and in his wardrobe for years.

“I can’t believe he was ever this small,” James muses, stroking one finger over the laces of one.

“I know,” Regulus sighs, bottom lip jutting out in a faint pout. Okay, it’s getting to him now. They’ve been at this for hours, they’re near done. He told himself he wasn’t going to get in his feelings about this, at least not until they’d finished, but… “I think I miss it.”

“Me too.” James reaches for his hand, tows him close to his side to curl his arm around him, both their gazes remaining fixed on the baby shoes. “Should we have another one?”

Regulus lets out a surprised sounding laugh, swinging a backhanded swat gently into James’ stomach. “We have Luna in the picture, too.”

“Also no longer a baby,” James points out. “We could definitely do it.”

“You’re forgetting an important detail.”

“What’s that?”

Regulus half-turns in the curl of James’ arm to look toward their son where Harry sits. A marker clutched just a smidge too tight in one hand, tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration. There’s smudges of different marker colors on his hands, a few pens uncapped and drying out scattered on the table top. Harry doesn’t look up until Regulus calls his name.

“Yes, papa?” He nudges his glasses up and blinks wide green eyes over at him, curious.

“How do you feel about having a baby brother or sister?” Regulus asks.

Harry’s brow furrows deeply. “I already have a sister.”

Regulus gestures toward the little boy as if his point has just been made.

“Another one, then. Wouldn’t that be fun, mate?” James suggests.

Scrunching his face up further in thought, Harry tilts his head, taps the marker in his hand against his chin. Regulus huffs a quiet laugh when the pause extends for several seconds, serious thought clearly being given to this question. In the end, Harry shrugs his shoulders dramatically, keeping them held up toward his ears.

“Well, I don’t know,” He says. “Would I have to share my toys?”

“You already have to share your toys, because that’s the nice thing to do,” Regulus reminds him.

“But a baby can’t play with all of my toys. Because they’re a baby and I’m not a baby.”

“Solid logic on that, mate,” James chuckles. He moves to set the red Converse on the table between the keep and donate boxes, undecided on where they belong. “We’ll think about it, eh? Put a pin in it?”

Harry looks at them both for a long moment before nodding his head once, poking his open marker into the air like he’s physically putting a pin in the thought. Instead of returning to coloring, he drops the marker onto the table —Regulus makes a mental note to replace this pack again when it’s the fifth one left to dry out. Wiggling off his chair, Harry comes over to them, picking up the shoes James sat down.

“Were these mine?” He asks, giggling when he stuffs his fingers into one and wears it like an odd glove. “They’re so small.”

“Yeah, so were you,” Regulus hums.

“But I’m tall now. Taller than Luna and Draco, too.” Harry puts the other shoe on his opposite hand, smacking the small soles together in semblance of a clap.

“You used to match daddy when you wore those shoes as a baby, you know,” Regulus tells him, pointing at his hidden hands.

“Used to put you in them all the time when we’d go out together,” James adds, smiling fondly.

Harry looks down at the shoes, silly with his hands in them, then back up at the two of them with an unexpected frown. “How come we don’t anymore?”

Regulus turns his head, looking at James in playful accusation. “An excellent question.”

“Hey, now, don’t act like this is my fault. You were the one that encouraged him making all his own choices. He never picked the Converse himself,” James argues.

“Well, I could get some now, daddy,” Harry stresses like this is the most obvious answer. He holds up his hands, shoes on display. “‘Cause these ones are too small.”

“Should we save them for the baby, you think?” James asks him.

“So we can all match.” Harry nods at first but then cuts himself short, eyes landing on Regulus. “But papa doesn’t have any.”

“Red isn’t papa’s color,” Regulus says.

“Beg to differ.” James’ mumble earns him an elbow in the ribs, a laugh punching out of him. “We’ll get some for papa, too, just for fun.”

“And then these ones are for the baby,” Harry confirms, setting the Converse back on the table.

“Well. We’ve circled back to this very quickly,” Regulus comments, amused, shaking his head slowly.

James hums in acknowledgment, grinning triumphantly when Regulus looks at him. He leans in and leaves a kiss against his forehead, lips still pressed against the spot, breath breezing through black curls, when he tells Harry to drop the shoes into the keep box for them. Regulus watches him examine each box, fondness blooming warmth in his chest as Harry sounds out letters he recognizes to figure out which box is the right one. 

They’ve all done such a good job with this perfect little boy of theirs, doing it all over again with a new baby might just make life impossibly more wonderful.

We’ll put a pin in it, Regulus thinks again.

He’ll have to wait and see when it’s truly circled back to in seriousness. He keeps it to himself that he wouldn’t mind if it was sooner rather than later.

[sunkissedlouis]

hs love on tour 2021 - 2023: backstage edition 💕🌐⭐️

[blatantlyhidden]

some lovin'

[awesomefringey]

AAAAAh mf https://twitter.com/La_Triquetra/status/1750156152430633272?t=MqZBXDYK7tUbOiZD29MBsg&s=19

Ooooh! Someone else sent the original link to me too. She was so loud at the barricade at Harry’s show in Thailand, that Harry commented on it and she started to apologize which prompted him to say „Don’t apologize. There’s no need to apologize. LIVE YOUR TRUTH! BE YOURSELF!“ and now the same person was at Louis‘ show and asked him to write the quote down so she could get it tattooed and now I’m crying! 😭

[immagrosscandy]

y6ch18 feat. hora de aventura reference

[hsonlyangelxo]

Idk but LHH in this shirt... it describes him so well.

[iamfuckingsorry]

Thinking about that mural from DE

You know which one

TRUE LOVE IS POSSIBLE ONLY IN THE NEXT WORLD, FOR THE NEW PEOPLE. IT IS TOO LATE FOR US. WREAK HAVOC ON THE MIDDLE CLASS

The next world mural. In the game, you encounter this piece very early on if you interact with everything available, you probably see this mural before you've ever even heard of Dora or before you've started to get really serious about your commie tendencies, if that's how you choose to play. And the reaction is like, "wow, this is kinda profound actually". Or maybe it's like, "oh lol, this game really is commie af isn't it" (even though later on it turns out that the game is much more critical of communism than you'd think at first). And the story in the ledger provides some insight into Harry and Jean and how they work together too, so it feels like it makes sense, it fits in very well at that moment in the game and that's it.

But looking back at this mural after you've played through the entire game, knowing what you know of Harry's relationship with Dora...

It's Harry's own fucking love story in a way, isn't it?

Him and Dora came from very different backgrounds. He's genuinely poor, grew up checking the trash cans on the streets for tare and edible food, spent his teenage years running around with a bunch of kids who all OD'd or got themselves killed one way or another over the years. He had dreams of getting an education, getting a chance to use his creativity and curiosity and learn about all that that is worth exploring in this world (which is everything), but those dreams are long dead. She's solidly middle class, with access to all the education and art and music he's always dreamt of, with her family to always fall back on. She's everything Harry's ever dreamt of growing up. She might as well be living in another world.

They fall in love with each other and she moves to Jamrock to live with him. Jamrock, the biggest fucking ghetto in Revachol, full of tweakers and gangsters and just thousands upon thousands of poor people permanently down on their luck trying to get by, with no proper aid or government and a police station so understaffed and underfunded they never even stood a chance. And they can barely make ends meet even living in Jamrock, moving from shithole to shithole, never knowing when they'll have their electricity cut, when something will happen that gets them thrown out, desperately scrambling for a new place to stay. And Dora could never do that, not really - she never actually lived in Jamrock, she always had the possibility of leaving, of going to work across the river and visiting her parents whenever she felt like it or just escaping, packing her shit and getting on the tram and never going back. And as long as she knew she wasn't really, truly stuck in this miserable shithole forever, she wasn't ever really living in Jamrock. And it could never be enough for her.

And she wanted more - for herself, for Harry, for their family, who even knows. Maybe she saw Harry struggling trying and failing to make a difference as a gym teacher and thought he could do more good with the RCM. Maybe she was getting desperate, living in this fucking shithole, and thought they needed more money. Maybe it was something completely else - but what is certain is that Harry ended up joining the RCM, and the 41st, and everyone there is on speed, everyone is miserable and desperate and always running behind playing catch up with the case load, with the crimes, with the drug addicts and rapists and murderers, and Harry, who's always been like this close to a genuine mental breakdown, just fucking falls apart. He needs to help people, needs to make a difference, and working at the 41st, with the budget and case load and staffing situation and the pure fucking misery in the area. He goes out and meets a miserable person after a miserable person and he can't do anything else than be nice, make their day a little bit more manageable, do his best- but he knows that no matter what he does, his best won't be enough. He won't be able to make a dent in the pure fucking misery that is Jamrock. But he needs to, so he drinks, he smokes, he does drugs, he loses any semblance of control he ever had over the voices in his head, the dude telling him to hit shit and the dude telling him to forget everything and just get fucked up and Revachol herself screaming at him about her imminent death. And in the end Dora can't stand it anymore and she leaves (and, honestly, good for her. I'm happy for her. But this is about Harry, and Harry isn't, he isn't able to be happy for her at this point in time).

And like. I personally doubt that she'd have left just because of the money if everything else was good. I honestly even doubt that the money was that big of an issue for her to start with, it was all the other issues first and then the fact that they couldn't even rent a fucking VHS and play it at times became just one more thing on top of this already massive pile of shit that broke the proverbial camel's back. But in Harry's mind, he was never rich enough for her. She was always the middle class girl who settled for the poor fuck, and he was never gonna be good enough for her because he was just a broke dude from Jamrock. She was perfect and so so beautiful and at one point her love was the only thing keeping him going, and then she left because he couldn't even

And from what we can see in the game she was the only person he's ever really, truly loved.

But in his mind, they could never be together again. They could try as they might, but it was never gonna work out, because she was a rich girl and he was just a poor miserable fuck. He grew up looking for change on the streets, she took piano lessons in a fancy part of town. The difference was just too large to ever truly be bridged.

So for post-breakup Harry, prior to Martinaise and even during the events in Martinaise, true love was never actually possible. It is possible only for the new people, in the next world. It was too late for him - he had his chance, and it was an impossible thing, it could never have worked out and now he's wasted it. Because of the inherent differences between different social classes. It is too late for him. So yeah, fuck it, wreak havoc on the fucking middle class. Fuck those rich bastards who took Dora from him, and fuck Dora too.

On another note, this was also one of the most recent cases him and Jean worked on prior to Martinaise. I don't remember the date exactly, but it was in his last ledger, it must have been pretty recent. Do you think he saw the mural and thought about it the same way I did? Maybe this was the one that truly pushed him over the edge? The impossible love. It truly was too late for him. The only way to fix it is a new fucking start. And how do you get that?

After life - death. After death - life again.