be with me so happily

295) no air

After a seemingly meaningless one night stand, Louis accepts that he’ll never see Harry Styles again. The plan goes to shit when Harry ends up on his cheer team.

Basically, Louis’ cheer captain, and Harry doesn’t end up on the bleachers.

296) i wanna be your lover, baby, i wanna be your man

Harry’s voice is quiet, if not a little hesitant, when he murmurs gently, “What does that make me, then?”

Louis searches his brain for the right words, eyes glued to the tentative curiosity etched all over Harry’s face.

“It makes you worth keeping,” he decides.

A Fleet Week AU where Louis and Harry are in the US Navy and fate gives them a week together. Fireworks, a house by the lake, and lots of kissing follows.

297) violets and paper aeroplanes

Harry likes Louis very much a lot and Louis’ a bit of an arsehole.

298) something lovers call fate (kept me saying i have to wait)

Okay – so he may have some feelings for his best friend. That’s completely fine. It happens. Except it doesn’t just happen like this. He can’t just listen to a little bit of a sappy speech and realize his everlasting love for his best mate of 10 years, right? That’s impractical. This had to have been a gradual sort of thing and – fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. Has he unknowingly been falling for his best friend this entire time? Were those sharp tugs of endearment a secret way of his inside telling him this is it? How unfortunate. How humiliating. Louis could scream his lungs out if it weren’t for, y’know, the wedding in progress.

It’s Niall’s wedding, officially leaving Louis and Harry to be the only unmarried (and single) friends in their group. Naturally, this puts Louis into a crisis. (ft. declaration of love in the men’s restroom, hiding out in the women’s restroom, and plenty of sappy songs with hidden meanings to help the night pass)

299) pull me in like a riptide

It’s the last summer before Harry goes away to college, which, of course, means a road trip from Maine to Miami.

Featuring beaches, giggles, boardwalks, and a very drunk game of sexual jenga.

300) this wasted luck

Louis is a writer who doesn’t commit. Harry reads a lot of advice columns.

301) give me truths

'Just like a little cat,' Louis thought later, as he drifted off to sleep. 'A little kitten with his claws sunk right into me.' It isn’t that terrible of a thought, after all.
Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.

Or, the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

That’s A Lot Of People

she does not feel empty yet, there must be a man-made cage for this
i’ll ignore her, i won’t even recognize i’m doing it ((at least not visibly)) 

she had a large amoebic body and was wearing some sort of uniform
like maybe a walmart or a best buy uniform or something with a nametag
and everything, it said ‘rose’ i noticed when i was a little less afraid to stare
and she was missing a couple teeth and had a gaze as empty as a dog
without a collar or home or memory

i sat in the bus terminal bent over a book listening as she pointed 
at the tv fixed high in the corner of the room saying to a stranger
'297 people died. that's a lot of people. you hear that, sir? that’s a lot of people that died’ and i didnt look up from my book but i’m sure
he nodded curtly and moved on as if in a hurry 
i suppose in a way he was, rushing to get anywhere else
away from this person still concerned outloud about the plight
of somebody she’s never met in a country she’s never been to 

'that's a lot of people'
i looked at the clock in the back of the terminal 
'ma'am' she said, 'ma'am, excuse me,' 
i looked up from my book and tried not to turn red and anxious
'did you hear that, ma'am? 297 people died. that's sad. 297. that's a lot of people. that's really sad.'
i nodded, said ‘i heard, yeah. that’s really sad’ in a voice like i was talking
to a 4 year old
and prayed she’d find someone else to focus on 

that’s really sad
that’s a lot of people

and i am upset for everything now, like how
everyone in that terminal, like how the boy across from me pretending
to be very very interested in something on his twitter feed 
assumed she was crazy or had some mental issue or had too many
drugs too often
just because she couldnt stop pointing at the screen, she just wanted
everyone to know 

that’s a lot of people that died
that’s really sad

and it is and i am so sorry i didnt explain properly how much it bothers me too
and how she’s braver than me for pointing it out in public 
and telling everybody they gotta pay attention 
i still get sad about things that happened to other people years ago
dont try to tell me it doesnt matter anymore

and we will do this forever, tell everyone that gets bothered by statistics
and how no one else is really listening 
that they’re crazy and i hate me for dismissing her so quick 
'hey you're right that is really sad' with a little conviction
i have no idea what people will remember

it isn’t important but it is very important
i have no idea what other people will care about or what will matter to them or why it’s never ever fair
but i just need her to know it’s okay to really really really care