#Harry Apps

[keenenthusiastinfluencer]

It took me a disturbingly long time to recognise who this is

[appleslightning]

exposure therapy by @pl0tty

[troythecatfish]

[stil-lindigo]

reverb in an empty hall.

prints (all proceeds go towards aid for Gaza)

[artiststarme]

Eddie and Steve only break up once. It’s not because of a fight or a disagreement. There’s nothing nefarious about it but it isn’t quite a mutual decision either.

They break up at Steve’s request for a night so he can properly commiserate with Robin about being single.

He felt like he can’t accurately discuss her feelings and feels badly about giving her advice that he can’t even fathom anymore, not since falling in love with Eddie. As her bestest friend and the co-owner of their shared brain cell, he decides to fully support Robin by being single with her for a night.

He plans on going to gay bars with her, hyping her up as the best single wingman he could be, and commiserating the impossible dating scene with her. That’s not quite what happens though.

Instead of having a fun night out on the town as single queers in the big city, Steve spends the night wrapped up in Robins arms under a fluffy blanket on the couch wailing about not being loved anymore and Eddie breaking up with him.

Robin very much thinks it’s real, very much hates Eddie for approximately 14 hours for breaking Steve’s heart and comforts Steve to the best of her ability. She even watches sucky rom-coms with him and listens to Tears for Fears on repeat.

They cuddle together on the small couch in their apartment, loving each other and scolding Eddie in solidarity. Robin spews words of anger towards the dumbass metalhead that decided to break her best friend’s heart so callously on a random Friday night. And for no reason as well! Blasphemous in her mind.

She stews quietly all night and much more loudly when she and Steve are awoken to Eddie bringing them coffee and waffles from their favorite cafe down the street.

When she finds out that they only broke up for the night and it was very much not real, Robin is absolutely furious and makes them take her to a Blondie concert in revenge. It’s the least they can do after stressing her out so much in just one night. Deep down though, she’s happy it wasn’t real because she can see how happy they are together, if not the stupidest people she knows.

[phoneswithteeth]

so uh,

i will see myself out.

[harrywavycurly]

The Almost Bumble Fumble: A Harry Styles One Shot

Part 2: Here

CW: None

Tag List: @georgiarose94

A/N: This is just some fun fluffy goodness that popped into my head the other day! I have a part 2 in mind if y’all want it? Enjoy!

Summary: Harry Styles shows up on your dating app and you’re convinced it’s not really him✨

Harry only has one reason why he finally caved and downloaded the bright yellow dating app, he likes the fact he can’t be the one to message anyone he matches with first. It takes some of the pressure off of him because it’s hard to think of an opening line that is catchy and engaging enough to actually make the other person respond, and while he may be a talented songwriter he is absolutely horrible at trying to be witty and flirty through a screen and over texts. So not having to worry about reaching out first allows him to just sit and wait to see if anyone is actually interested enough in him to send him a message and so far, much to his disappointment and only a slight blow to his ego he hasn’t gotten more than a few random hellos.

Even though he hasn’t gotten the kind of response he thought he would since he downloaded the app just a few days ago, he still finds himself checking it a few times a day and that’s exactly what he’s doing now as he gets comfortable on his couch with a glass of wine in his hand. He scrolls through a few profiles and doesn’t swipe right or hit the heart button on any of them until he lands on one that seems interesting. Your profile picture is of you grinning as you stare at a piece of what he thinks is cake that’s on a plate in front of you that has a candle in it, there’s a little caption under it that says “if you can make me smile the way this cake did, you’re a keeper” and he chuckles to himself as he continues further down your profile. The most important thing he likes to look at on people’s profile is what they’re looking for on the app, because Harry knows he’s ready for a relationship and he isn’t trying to have his time wasted nor waste anyone else’s if he knows they aren’t looking for the same thing in the end.

He feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth when he sees your response to that prompt if the exact same as his, looking for something long term. Harry takes a sip of his wine as he looks through the photos you posted on your profile, enjoying the tiny look at what you do for fun since you have a few photos at concerts and other events such as the classic group photo during a girls night out but the one that sticks with Harry the most is of you sitting on a couch with a glass of wine and a book in your hand that someone took while you weren’t looking or at least that’s how it appears. When he reaches the end of your profile he doesn’t give himself a moment to overthink it he simply swipes right and continues on his scroll through the app trying not to get too anxious as he waits to see if you’ll match with him and find him interesting enough to message.

After a few more minutes of scrolling he lets out a sigh before he takes a rather large sip of wine, just when he’s ready to call it a night and leave the silly little dating app he sees that he has a new message. He quirks an eyebrow as he goes to his messages and he can’t help the grin that takes over his face when he sees it’s from you, meaning you have to be online now since he just swiped on you not even ten minutes ago and you’ve already sent him a message.

Now what Harry isn’t prepared for is what your message says, having only gotten the different variations of Hello so far as opening lines so when he opens your message the laugh that escapes him is genuine and he feels as if you just sent him a one liner you’d possibly use on him if you saw him at a bar and wanted to start a conversation with him. He reads the message again and shakes his head as he chuckles to himself while also feeling a bit of an inflation to his ego because your opening line is tailored to him, it’s something that you wouldn’t be able to use on just anyone. Because even if they were an obvious One Direction fan it would be very risky because they might not know the lyrics to the song and be extremely confused.

“If the room was burning, would you really not notice?”

He finds himself instantly replying and when he hits send he suddenly starts to get nervous that maybe he should’ve waited a bit to reply so he doesn’t seem too eager and possibly scare you off before he can even really get to know you. But it’s too late now, so he just sips his wine and stares at the small screen in his hand.

“Honestly I don’t think I would. My mind would be too preoccupied by someone and their ability to tell little fibs.”

When he sees a new message appear beneath his he lets out a small sigh of relief because already this is the longest conversation he’s had on this app so far.

“Right well thank goodness you’re fireproof.”

He quickly replies to you and waits with a new feeling of excitement brewing in his tummy to see what you’re going to say next. But he can’t help but wonder how long you can keep this up, he will happily play along because he doesn’t want to be the one to change the subject and possibly ruin the mood.

“Exactly. I’m also very good at finding my way through dark places as well.”

Luckily for him he doesn’t have to wait very long and your response has him laughing and he’s grateful that he lives alone so no one can walk into his living room and ask him what he’s laughing at while cuddled up in the corner of his couch.

“Oh does that mean you’re not scared of the dark? Because if you are that’s okay I won’t let anything get to you and drag you down.”

He is typing out his reply and hitting send before he can even fully lean over and put his empty wine glass down on the table.

“That’s lovely of you to say but no I’m not scared of the dark. Not even a little bit. The only thing I get a little unsettled about is how quickly the night can change.”

As Harry waits to see what you’ll say he can’t stop his mind from wondering if there’s a possibility you’re doing something similar right now, sitting comfortably on your couch or maybe in bed smiling and laughing at your phone like an idiot. Because surely it can’t just be him that’s enjoying how easy the conversation is flowing, regardless of how silly it may be.

You read the latest message from this “Harry” person and laugh at how he goes about avoiding the exact lyrics of the song night changes, you quickly type out a reply so you don’t have to keep him waiting for too long.

“It does change fast doesn’t it? I’ve always thought it was a bit rude how everything you’re dreaming about is just is gone in the morning.”

After hitting send you reach over to your nightstand and grab your glass of wine and take a sip as you go back to visit his profile. You narrow your eyes as you bring the screen a little closer to your face as you scroll down to the few photos he’s chosen, most of which are also on his Instagram so you don’t let the thought that you’re talking to the actual Harry Styles cross your mind. Especially since a lot of the information needed to make a profile on the dating app the two of you are currently messaging on is very accessible, it’s just a simple scroll through Google. The only thing that makes you quirk a brow is one photo he has at the very end of his profile, it’s a photo of him sitting at a table with a smile on his face while holding a glass of wine and it’s one you’ve never seen before but that also doesn’t mean anything because there’s tons of photos and videos of Harry you haven’t seen.

When you saw you matched with him you couldn’t stop yourself from instantly messaging him, because even though you know it’s just someone using Harry’s photos to get attention you figure you might as well have some harmless fun. You know eventually you’ll decide to move on and maybe report his account depending on how weird he gets. You’re brought back to the moment when you see you have a new message, you take another sip of your wine as you read what he wrote.

“It’s very rude but there is something that even the night can’t change. Do you know what that is?”

You bite down on your bottom lip as you read the message and you get an odd feeling this person might be trying to flirt with you because the next line of the song he’s talking about is a rather romantic one, but then again you can’t really be sure. You take this moment to test the waters a bit as you type out your reply and hit send before you can second guess yourself and delete it.

“It’s you and I right? Because nothing can separate us?”

You know you’re going to have to casually change the subject soon but you can’t help but want to see just how long the two of you can keep indirectly quoting One Direction songs in a way that has ended up with the two of you in a rather pointless conversation. You feel your cheeks get warm when you read his reply, of course this Harry impersonator would send you lyrics to Stockholm Syndrome.

“Precisely. It’s safe to say you’ve got me tied down.”

You finish off your wine and place the empty glass on your nightstand before figuring out how exactly you want to reply. There’s a few ways you could go about this, but instead of going the obvious flirty route you choose to go for the comedic approach instead because that’s more of who you are anyway.

“I mean I can’t have you trying to escape the city and follow the sun now can I? Because that would just break my heart and I don’t even know where I’d go if that happened.”

You giggle to yourself as you scroll to the top of your messages and reread them, well aware that if anyone were to read them they’d be extremely confused. You also have to admit that this person is very well educated on their One Direction lyrics and you’re a bit impressed. When you get to the bottom you see “Harry” has replied and what he says makes you lean your head back and laugh as you drop your phone into your lap as you try to get yourself under control.

“I’d never try to escape because if your heart is broken and you’re just wondering around that makes me worry people will try to steal you away from me and I can’t have that. Not to mention I also have no clue where’d you go with a broken heart and I’m honestly so shit with directions so I’d be left with no choice but to walk around shouting your name.”

After a few moments you quickly type out a response and double tap his last message letting a red heart appear next to it so he knows you really enjoyed that creative use of lyrics from two songs.

“Walking around shouting my name? Absolutely not. Don’t embarrass me.”

Harry doesn’t even bother trying to hide his amusement at your message, enjoying how you managed to give him an easy way to go along with your subtle change of conversation since he notices a very obvious lack of song lyrics in your reply. And Harry being the romantic that he is finds this a great opportunity to ask something, and your answer will be one he might possibly tuck away in his mind to remember at a later date.

“Not one for big declarations of love then?”

As he waits for your reply Harry takes a moment to process the fact that even though the two of you haven’t even really had a true conversation he already can tell by your sense of humor that he’s going to enjoy getting to know you more, if you let him that is. When he sees your response he laughs and runs a hand through his hair with his hand that’s not holding his phone.

“I’ve never had anyone do a big declaration of love for me before so I’m not sure how I feel about them. What about you? Do you need a Jumbotron proposal during a sporting event or a billboard dedicated to how much I love your hands?”

Harry looks at his free hand and wonders if you’re being serious about loving his hands or if that’s just an example you picked to show him what you would be willing to write on a billboard about him. As he types out his reply his mind begins to think of things that could be considered big declarations of love or feelings that maybe you’d like, because even though he doesn’t know you he figures having some ideas on the back burner can’t hurt and who doesn’t like coming home to an outrageous amount of flowers or a maybe even having the radio play nothing but your favorite songs for a whole day.

“I am open to all types of declarations of love. Big, small, handwritten or painted on a billboard. I’m not picky.”

Now only part of that statement is a lie, Harry truly does enjoy any type of declaration of love that his significant other is willing to give him but he is a tiny bit picky. But that’s something to discuss at a later date, because it doesn’t really have anything to do with what the two of you are discussing now, he’s picky about other things but not how someone is willing to tell him their feelings about him. As Harry is getting up and grabbing his empty wine glass off his coffee table and heading into the kitchen he gets an odd notification at the bottom of the message thread between the two of you.

*accept video chat*

But before he can even hit accept or decline the message is gone and he sees you’ve typed out a quick little explanation.

“Oh god I’m sorry! Finger slipped and hit the video chat button! Sorry!”

He quirks a brow as he scrolls to the top of the messages and sees what looks like a FaceTime icon near the corner. Having not noticed it before he becomes curious and maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s just that he’s interested in you and thinks this is a smart way to “meet” for the first time to get a better feeling of if the two of you actually can hold a conversation or not but either way Harry is typing out a quick message and hitting send before entering his kitchen.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know it was an option, I’m fine with a video chat if you are?”

You stare at his message for a solid thirty seconds before you even blink, not knowing why on earth this person would want to video chat with you when you know they aren’t Harry Styles. It’s going to be awkward and embarrassing, for them of course not for you because you already know you haven’t been talking to the tall tattooed international superstar but maybe this is for the best so you can tell whoever it is how impressed with their One Direction song lyric knowledge you are. And maybe, just maybe you’ll still find whoever it is attractive and it won’t be a total bummer of a Friday night. So against your better judgement you send him a simple response before you climb out of bed and head for the kitchen to refill your wine.

“Sure!”

You catch your reflection in the door of your microwave and instantly place your phone on the counter next to your fridge so you can adjust the monstrosity that is your messy bun. Once that’s as good as it’s going to get you look down at your faded band t shirt and decide that it’s good enough for whoever it is that’s about to video chat you, it’s after nine at night on a Friday after all so in your mind them seeing you like this is just preparing them for what they can expect in the future. As you’re reaching for your bottle of wine you see a new notification appear on your screen and you feel nervous as you pick your phone up.

*Accept video chat from Harry Styles*

You hit accept and the screen goes black before suddenly you’re looking at someone’s ceiling and you squint your eyes and bring the phone closer to your face as what appears to be half a forearm comes into view.

“Sorry love it seems I’ve dropped you.” You feel your heart begin to beat so fast you’re afraid it’s going to explode as a British accent comes from the phone, you swear it sounds exactly like Harry’s but you simply shake your head at that idea because there’s no way he’s on the other end of this call.

“Oh wow you sound just like-”

“I sound just like who?” Harry asks as he finally comes into view after he picks the phone up from where he accidentally dropped it on his counter while trying to open his wine bottle one handed. Your eyes go a bit wide as you move your phone away from your face, you feel your cheeks get hot and out of pure panic you place your phone against your wine bottle and put both hands over your face making Harry raise an eyebrow at you.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re Harry Styles.” You mumble into your hands but Harry hears you just fine making him chuckle as he pours some wine into his glass. “You weren’t supposed to actually be Harry Styles.” You explain as you spread your fingers allowing you to get a small look at Harry through the gaps, it’s almost unfair how much better he looks while taking up your phone screen than he does in his photos.

“Who was I supposed to be?” He questions as he grabs his phone and his wine glass and heads back into his living room.

“Some weirdo just acting like you to get attention on a dating app.” Harry doesn’t quite like that answer, he doesn’t like the idea of someone pretending to be him just to get attention and possibly hurt people in the process.

“Do people really do that? Pretend to be me on things like this?” You just shrug as you slowly lower your hands from your face and Harry is glad he’s already sitting down because even with your pink cheeks and distraught look in your still slightly wide eyes he can’t get over how pretty you are.

“I’m not sure? You’re actually the first Harry Styles I’ve ever come across but I mean I just-I didn’t think it was really you.” You admit with a laugh as you reach and grab your phone so you can get to your wine bottle, deciding you now more than ever need to refill your glass.

“Are you disappointed it’s really me and not some random weirdo?” He watches you raise an eyebrow and make a humming noise as if you really have to think about it before answering him.

“Honestly I’m relieved it’s actually you because if it wasn’t then I would’ve had to tell a random person how impressed I was with their One Direction knowledge.” You answer after you fill your glass up with wine, Harry chuckles as you make a face of disgust at the mention of telling someone you were impressed with them. “But since it’s you-”

“Oh are you saying you’re not impressed with my One Direction knowledge?” He says in mock offense as he watches you walk through what he can only assume is your kitchen based on the oven he sees in the background.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You answer without any hesitation and Harry’s face breaks out into a wide grin because the look you give him is one that tells him he should’ve known that was going to be your answer.

“Well I’m quite impressed with your knowledge and your opening message was-”

“Oh god.” You say with a groan as you head into the living room, your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you take a seat on your couch making Harry give you a soft smile to try to help ease your clear embarrassment of what you sent him because he thought it was great.

“Don’t feel embarrassed love.” He quietly clears his throat and takes a sip of his wine after the petname accidentally slips out of his mouth. “I thought it was brilliant that’s why I responded and kept it going.” He explains making you smile and it’s not until this very moment do the two of you really sit and look each other in the eyes and Harry feels his own cheeks get a little warm as you stare at him through the phone.

“You’re really pretty.” Harry laughs and runs a hand through his hair as you blink a few times and realize what you just said out loud.

“You’re really pretty as well.” He says with only a small hint of nervousness evident in his voice because he doesn’t want to come across overly flirty but he also doesn’t see the harm in telling you the truth, you are very pretty.

“Thank you.” You smile and get comfortable on your couch. “I guess it’s good to get all this embarrassing and awkwardness out of the way now right?” Harry just nods and smiles at your choice of words, giving him some hope that you’ll want to maybe do this again or possibly meet up in person if you feel comfortable enough.

“Exactly.” Is all he says with a grin making you return his smile as you sink into your couch and toss a blanket over your legs to get comfortable because something tells you that you’re about to be on the phone with Harry for a while and you don’t mind. You silently thank your lucky stars that you decided to message him when you saw he matched with you because you can’t imagine the level of regret you’d feel if you somehow found out you fumbled the opportunity to talk and possibly get to know Harry just because you thought it was a fake profile.

[loonyloopylupin96]

Theme: Deer | @moonwater-microfic | Words: 282

"So, you guys are finally doing the patronus stuff?" Remus looked up from his book to see Regulus taking a seat beside him, bearing a haughty expression.

Remus carefully placed his bookmark and nodded. "We are - wait, what do you mean 'finally'? You've not got it for another year yet."

"You think the Noble and Most-"

"You can just say 'family', Reg..." Remus muttered, though the small smile on his face betrayed him.

"-of Black," Regulus finished, pointedly, "-would send me off to school without a firm grasp on a few advanced spells?"

"Um... are you expecting to encounter many dementors in your time?" Remus quipped, unable to help himself but also genuinely curious about why this of all spells would make the cut.

Regulus just rolled his eyes. "I had a choice. I wanted to know what my patronus would be - what was yours?"

Remus hesitated. "Wait, how did you know we've been doing that today?"

"Overheard Potter going on about Evans also having a deer, or something. I wasn't really listening but that guy is so fucking hard to ignore sometimes. He sits two damn tables away!" Regulus replied, testily. "So, you?"

"Oh, um. Mine was a snake-" Remus began, taking care as he unravelled the loose thread on his robe sleeve.

He looked up as Regulus snorted in response.

"Bollocks," he laughed. "Sneaking around with me for three months, does not a snake make."

"Four-"

"Four and a half, actually. I just wanted to see if you were counting too-" Remus watched as the left side of Regulus' mouth turned up in a playful smile. "Like I said, you're not sneaky, Lupin."

Well, he couldn't argue with that.

[mo0ns-and-stars]

Saw something like this on tiktok the other day and can we make a tinder but for ppl in the maurauders fandom? I feel like that would solve all my dating issues, like I don't care about what you work but wich marauder do you kin? What is your favorite ship? Your favourite moment in canon? Are we looking for a Wolfstar Jegulus or Jily kind of relationship?

[daily-dubois]

Day 17

[orchideous-nox]

You best believe that no matter how angry at each other Barty and Evan are after a fight, they are still fucking before bed. It just has a little more spice than usual.

[moldyfloorbords]

hdb's cool new party trick

[appleslightning]

“You got lucky,” he says, bringing Harry’s hand up to his lips and kissing it. He holds it there for a beat, then lets it go. “I’m sorry Harry, but I don’t think this was a good idea. I think maybe … I think maybe it’s time we stopped.”

a pulled down shade by fast_brother

[troythecatfish]

[pop-punklouis]

harry’s chat gpt ass impersonal post. not surprised but jarring considering someone died and his other band mates posted deeply personal things.

how much of an absolute loser do you have to be to judge someone’s grief and how they respond to that grief? he lost someone he had a deep connection with— deep ties to. how dare you come in here thinking you know better about how someone grieves publicly and if it’s “worthy” enough to pass whatever “green light” check you seem to have.

it’s unbelievable some of you think harry or any of the other boys owe you shit. someone he grew up with died. someone he loved died. sorry that even in the face of mourning you cannot get your head out of your ass long enough to think something other than the tired narrative of “harry styles super villian.” grow up.

[residentrookie]

jegulus dads ‘i frew up 🧍’ microfic— 1313 words; sorry guys i was brain rotting too hard about this one (cw: mentions of throwing up)

in all his 27 years, regulus has never been a deep sleeper. so when the door to the bedroom creaks open at 3 in the morning, his eyes open with it. the room is still pitch black, and he wonders groggily if boots (their cat) pawed it open when a tiny, weak voice whimpers, “daddy?”

regulus is launching up in bed and turning towards the voice of his five year old son before thinking twice.

“what, baby? what is it?”

at his sudden movement, james shoots up in bed next to him. “—whatisit. haz?” he mumbles, flicking on a lamp and dousing the room in light.

there stands harry in his spiderman jams, hair an absolute bird’s nest and tears streaming from his big green eyes and down his sweet cheeks. regulus’ eyes water instinctively just looking at him. before having kids, regulus never knew what it was to empathize so automatically with someone else— but he felt harry’s emotions right along with him, the joy, the sorrow, and the pain too.

“i—“ harry starts, then sucks in a big stuttering breath, clearly trying to be a brave boy and not cry, “i-i threw u-up.”

at the admission he wails, like he’s just confessed to the most abhorrent sin and will now have to face the wrath of his two loving fathers, who are so light on punishments they sometimes worry harry will end up being the most spoiled brat alive. james and regulus share a quick look, what regulus would consider the “dad” look, before throwing back the covers and rising quickly.

surprisingly, they’ve planned for this. years ago. when they first started dating. james had asked regulus about this very scenario, and after minutes of regulus whining about never wanting children in the first place—so why does it even matter, james— he’d made his position clear.

“i don’t do vomit.” regulus told him firmly. “absolutely not.”

james had laughed. “fine by me. if you only knew how much of my friends vomit i’ve had to clean up over the years. i don’t even blink at it anymore.”

thus the responsibilities of this hypothetical situation were assigned. james was on vomit duty. regulus was on comfort duty.

“not sure i’ll be any good at that either,” regulus had said grudgingly, but james had just smiled knowingly, able to see a future that regulus couldn’t yet imagine.

james makes it to harry first and scoops him up promptly, letting him bury his face in his neck and sob. regulus comes up behind them and snuggles up to harry, kissing his small head and whispering reassurances.

“shhhh don’t cry, it’s okay, haz. does your tummy hurt?” james asks calmly, rocking them all back and forth soothingly.

regulus pulls back and watches harry nod. his cheek is rosy and hot when regulus puts his hand to it.

“come on, baby, let’s go take care of it okay?” regulus tells him, and james deposits their still-sniffling son into his husbands open arms.

“you know what time it is?” james asks, wiggling his brows. harry just sniffs and shakes his head. “time to be superdad,” james tells him, pointing at his faded superman t-shirt. then he gives an animated salute, puts one fist on his hip and the other high in the sky before jetting out of the room with some impressive ‘flying sounds’ that manage to make harry smile a little before he remembers that he’s actually very upset right now. regulus shakes his head at his wonderfully ridiculous spouse and starts towards the stairs, feeling harry’s hot tears gather in the crook of his neck.

after giving harry some medicine, they settle on the couch downstairs, harry in regulus lap and clinging to him. regulus rocks them for a few minutes, letting harry’s breaths slow as he calms down.

“papa?” harry sniffles suddenly, his voice so small.

“yes, sweetheart?” regulus asks, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“we need to have a funeral. like how we did for bobbi.”

regulus blinks. bobbi, harry’s goldfish, had died three days after james brought him home, leaving the two of them to explain the complicated matter of death to their three and a half year old. so harry had a vague idea of the concept and of funerals, though his only exposure has been the meager ceremony they’d patched together and held in their garden. sirius had given a speech and peter had cried.

“what? why?” regulus demands, scanning his son’s face. his bottom lip pokes out as his eyes fill with tears yet again.

“b-because i think i killed hippo,” he wails. “i-i threw up all over him— a-and ron said that throw up is like— like how supervillains spit out the acid and k-kill the good guys—“

regulus closes his eyes briefly, exhaling in relief. he makes a mental note to tell james to cool it on the superhero movies for a while— clearly it’s getting into harry’s head.

“no baby, hippo is fine. he just needs to go for a swim in the wash, and then he’ll come out as good as new.”

harry peels his head back from regulus’ chest, blinking up at home hopefully. “really?”

“really. i bet daddy has already put him in. shall we go check on him just to be sure?”

“yes, please,” harry says, politely. oddly, it makes regulus think of his mother, of how she had demanded her boys to be polite above all else, even in the face of abuse and neglect. james and regulus had done absolutely everything differently, and harry still turned out to be the sweetest boy on the planet. walburga can fucking suck it.

pushing aside the thoughts of his mother, regulus rises with harry still perched on his hip. they walk back upstairs, peeking their heads into the laundry room to find james, metaphorical sleeves rolled up as he hums to himself, rummaging through their linens. regulus truly married the only person in the world who can sing while cleaning up vomit at 3 in the morning.

james turns and smiles at them in the doorway. “my boys!” he says cheerfully, crossing the room to give harry a smooch on the head.

“he’s worried about hippo, darling,” regulus explains. “can you show him how he’s just gone for a dip in the wash?”

“who, hippo?” james asks. “oh he’s great. you know what he told me haz?” he leans forward as if confiding a secret, “he told me he’s been wanting a bubble bath for sooo long and he’s sooo happy he finally got the chance. he even said to tell you thank you!”

harry giggles. “no he didn’t. he doesn’t talk.”

james gasps. “well he certainly talks to me, harry. we’re the best of friends.”

“i thought papa was your best friend,” harry says and james’ face melts into the gentlest smile.

“that’s true, too. it’s a tie between hippo and papa.”

regulus rolls his eyes as harry laughs. they go over and stand in front of the washer. the top is clear, so harry can see all his stuffies (including hippo) swirl around in the sudsy water. after several moments of watching them spin, james nudges regulus, inclining his head towards harry.

regulus looks down to see their baby’s eyes closed, head heavy, cheek squished against his chest.

“his bed has fresh sheets,” james whispers but regulus isn’t quite ready to let him go. he looks up at james with a pleading face.

james, try as he might, has never excelled at being the hardass parent. so when regulus takes their son back into their bedroom, depositing him under the covers between the two of them, james just smiles and shakes his head. they climb into bed and turn towards harry, two parenthesis enclosing the small shape of their son, cradling him and keeping him safe.

regulus sleeps long and deep, one hand laced with his husband’s, the other resting on his son’s dark head.