#Harry styles Tumblr posts

  • pinktrepidation
    24.10.2021 - 6 minutes ago

    F I T P R E D I C T S ! ?

    Please join hands with me and R. as we pray for a baby pink fit tonight! 🕯🕯🕯🙏🙏🙏 A silky vest, hiddies out, would be icing on the cake! 🌸🌸🌸

    #ready set cho #fit predicts #love on tour #harry styles #is it too much to ask for something great? #fine line baby
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  • hespretty
    24.10.2021 - 12 minutes ago

    my favorite boys <3

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  • harryhoney-bee
    24.10.2021 - 16 minutes ago
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  • danielleswifty
    24.10.2021 - 21 minutes ago

    Y’all if anyone is selling harryween night 2 LaneOne pleaseeee message me. I would do anything for a LaneOne!

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  • angelhrryyy
    24.10.2021 - 21 minutes ago

    anyone selling HOUSTON HSLOT PIT TICKETS for November 23rd, please let me know, cherry or watermelon pit must provide proof by screen recording and must use paypal !

    message me on instagram :)


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  • harryhoney-bee
    24.10.2021 - 31 minutes ago
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  • harryhoney-bee
    24.10.2021 - 33 minutes ago

    What is wrong with this fandom

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  • fandomaestheticxo
    24.10.2021 - 36 minutes ago

    I splurged today and finally bought myself a record player because I keep hearing that music sounds so much better on it. My first vinyl record is Harry’s Fine Line album. And the first thing I’m going to say is HOW am I expected to choose which side of the poster to hang up???

    #harry styles#fine line#hslot #harry styles fine line #I’m late to this party #I know
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  • xdoseofharryx
    24.10.2021 - 37 minutes ago

    Harry today in Boston!!!

    #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles gif #harry styles news #harry styles love #harry styles drabble #harry styles updates #one direction #harry styles one shot #harry styles photos #Harry styles in yellow #harry styles pictures #harry styles love on tour #love on tour
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  • berlinini
    24.10.2021 - 39 minutes ago
    #i will never forgive him for the ringo joke #what a pathetic attempt at humor #answered ask#anon#harry styles#jason sudeikis#snl
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  • styles4miles
    23.10.2021 - 49 minutes ago

    Harry in Tampa 🤍

    #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #imagine#y/n#aesthetic #boyfriend!harry #love on tour #tampa
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  • longhrry
    23.10.2021 - 52 minutes ago

    #messy packs #harry styles layout #twitter packs #harry styles header #larry packs #larry stylison headers #louis fetus#louis packs #louis tomlinson layouts #louist91
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  • goldensaigon
    23.10.2021 - 54 minutes ago

    harry said ✌️

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  • selenophilevol28
    23.10.2021 - 58 minutes ago

    Ask me anything. Come on talk to me....

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  • vinniehrck
    23.10.2021 - 58 minutes ago

    harry styles icons

    like or reblog if you save
    #harry styles #harry styles icons #icons harry potter #love on tour #harry styles messy icons #one direction#fine line
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  • guccistyles
    23.10.2021 - 1 hour ago

    Love On Tour 2021 - Uncasville, CT - October21

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  • hippieslovers
    23.10.2021 - 1 hour ago
    #harry styles #packs harry styles #twitter packs #harry styles layouts #harry styles icons #messy moodboard#carrd moodboard#lq moodboard #harry styles moodboard #black moodboard#darkcore
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  • e-phipany
    23.10.2021 - 1 hour ago
    #twitter packs#messy headers#messy packs#random#taylor swift #taylor swift layouts #harry styles #harry styles packs #harry styles layouts #harry styles headers #taylor swift icons #gilmore girls #10 things i hate about you #friends headers
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  • beautifulletdownfics
    23.10.2021 - 1 hour ago

    Real Happy || Prologue

    Prologue - It Is Always Ourselves We Find In The Sea

    Author’s note: Heeerre we go! I am excited to write Australia in a fic, I hope it’s a pleasant mind adventure for you all x (Also, grumpy Harry.)

    Real Happy Masterlist

    My Masterlist


    For whatever we lose, like a you or a me, it is always ourselves we find in the sea - e.e. cummings

    Matilda can’t feel her toes.

    She raises her legs up, eyes glancing down to where they appear below the surface of the water. Briefly, her big toes touch either side of her board before she lets them drop back below her. 

    Another swell tumbles under her, lifting Matilda up and then dropping her back. They weren’t breakers yet—the surf report for this morning was lousy but she needed to get in the water. She was first out this morning, and understandably—it was far too early, the sun barely visibly on the horizon. Too dark for most of the surfers to be at the beach yet, a few night fisher vessels might start coming in soon, though. 

    Matilda’s got seventeen hours of travel ahead of her, so she’s taking the final moment of solace she can before it. Before ten days in Los Angeles. But she’s not thinking about that yet.

    No, she’s home still. Her eyes close, hands pressed into her thighs, the material of her wetsuit taught and thick. Matilda’s shoulders relax, and she breathes in the cool, salty air. Her legs have gone numb from the cold, so they feel warmer than her torso and arms. Matilda’s fingers break the surface at her sides as the next wave comes and lifts her up again. As she floats over the back of it, her eyes open to a flat, calm ocean. 

    She won’t be catching any waves this morning. But Matilda isn’t too bothered by the thought. It’s about more than surfing for her, more than the sport of it, although she liked that too. It required all parts of her body and brain work together, mixing with a rush of adrenalin and an acceptance that the ocean was the one in control, not the human on the foam and fibreglass board. 

    It’s a physical pull that brings her here every day, but it’s something else too. It’s some other force, a current all its own perhaps, always calling her back. That first dip in, the first moment of weightlessness and the release she felt from it. Or it was the jolt up her spine as soon as her skin hit the wet sand, those moments as she wades out and her body screams at the cold. Then the first launch out onto the board, when the water leaks down the opening of her wetsuit at her neck and chills her through to the core. Matilda didn’t know anything else in life which felt as good. 

    The sea. 

    She sees things better for having been in it. Nothing was ever quite as heavy after a surf, or if her mind was truly in turmoil, a sit and float on her board. There’s always a lesson in the relentless force of the tide. Watching seabeds sway back and forth, relying on a life force they have no power over, no chance in controlling. Watching fish live their strange little lives made Matilda’s life feel part of something. If a two-inch scaly thing with a brain the size of the nail on her pinky could be happy with their lot in life, so too could she. And if a five-foot grey nurse shark could peacefully swim through an unbroken wave and fill Matilda with equal parts of wonder and fear, there was little she couldn’t take on. 

    She moves forward to lie on the board, stroking her arms through the water to propel out deeper. As the sun rose, the white sand below her would become more prominent, but the ocean was a deep blue below her in this pre-dawn state. Her favourite view in the world was that yellow sand, with its transparent greeny-blue water backdrop. It’s what Matilda looked for as soon as she was under the water’s surface; she opened her eyes to take in the soul of the ocean, blinking through the saltwater.  

    All it took was three seconds. Two to duck under, sink down enough to turn and look back up, then one second to open her eyes—whatever weight Matilda had been carrying with her dissolved into the bubbles the force of her breaking the surface expelled. She could keep her eyes open under there forever. The saltwater gave up trying to burn her eyes years ago. The only way it got her now was if she got in too soon after sunscreen, the painful zinc seeping into eyes rendering Matilda almost entirely blind for a few minutes.

    Being below the surface cleared up things on land better than any other way she’s seen—and the kooks of LA and showbiz Matilda worked with have some pretty weird shit they’re into. Chakras and cleanses, oils and crystals … Another reason she would never live there, could never put down roots. 

    The water didn’t work so well there, either. One surf in Malibu years ago was enough to put her off the whole place for life. She didn’t like seeing a city from the surf. Surfers talked to each other in LA too—American’s loved to talk in coffee shop lines and grocery stores too—they would paddle over and say something chirpy, trying to bond over how peaceful it was. The unwritten rule where Matilda was from was silence. The magnitude of the ocean was best digested alone, even if there were two or three dozen of them out there every morning. Chit chat was for the beach. Boards were a cone of silence. Unless someone spotted a fin.

    Saltwater and sun. That’s all she needed to keep her head straight. 

    She stopped paddling, resting her chin on the top of her board, eyes on the horizon as the sky started opening up to the sunrise. The water lapped around her waist, warming her elbows and hands. She’d need to go back in soon. An hour’s drive to the local airport, a short flight to Sydney and then fourteen hours on to Los Angeles. 

    Matilda counts herself fortunate to live in a place—and a country—where the weather allowed her the daily surf she required to cope most of the year. Winter in the coastal rainforest region Matilda lives in lasts only a few weeks most years before the dip in temperature turns around as if Mother Nature missed the warmth too. Missed the surfers bobbing beyond the breakers, spilling their secrets into the blue.

    That’s probably where she got the habitual need for the daily ritual of a surf. Mornings before school were spent driving to whatever local beach had the best swell, just her and her dad, more often than not hardly speaking to each other. Her dad liked to say, ‘If it’s double digits, it’s surfing weather’. If it happened to be any temperature below that, his line was, ‘Well, it’s warmer in the water, you’d be mad not to!’ but that wasn’t what mattered, not really.

    The point was the clean air, the salty crust on the skin, and the sun hitting her shoulders. She made a point of not rinsing it off before her flights to LA. Lying back in her aeroplane seat, eyes closed, Matilda would still be here. She’s in the ocean, off the beach just a hundred yards from her back garden. 

    A long breath pushes through her nose. Time to turn her board around and head back towards land.

    The other half of her life was calling. It was Grammys season. 


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    #fic: real happy #hs fic#hs fanfic#harry fic#harry fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #1dff#fanfic#fanfiction
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