there are a lot of reasons why i want to be friends with harry but i’d be lying if i said top of that list isn’t the years and years of 1d dirt and gossip he’d spill. im a full on Drama Hoe but im also a trustworthy bitch like i’d never breathe a word of it but i’d be THRIVING
Hey, I was just wondering what Larry fanfics can you recommend, like what are your favourites??
Hello! Wow alright I have to admit that I have way to many favorites, they are all SO good that I honestly can’t help it, so i’ll narrow it down to my top 6! (was going to do 5 but I literally couldn’t choose so 6 it is) starting with 6 to my number 1 favorite fanfic!
AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis’ teenage fantasies.
Reasons why I love it: PRINCE HARRY! AND LOUIS AS A ‘SCANDAL’ TYPE CHARACTER!!!
“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”
Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.
(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)
Reason’s why I love it: ITS JUST DAMN GOOD! TRUST ME!!
For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream – making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.
Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He’s still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?
Featuring Perrie as Harry’s adorable flatmate, Niall as his manager, and Liam and Zayn as Louis’ bandmates.
Reasons why I love it: I personally love Perrie so i love it when she’s in fics but my ultimate fantasy brotp is Perrie/Harry, and in this fic they are super close also she braids his hair!! also baby blue rululu! nuff said.
In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He’s rich. He’s handsome. He’s reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.
Reason why i Love it: JACK FUCKING MCQUEEN! && LOUIS’ KINK!
Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn’t stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.
My reason why i love it: GIVES ME MAJOR GOSSIP GIRL FEELS!! ACTUALLY I READ IT AROUND THE TIME WHERE MY GOSSIP GIRL ENDING DEPRESSION WAS ON ITS VERY HIGH THIS WAS A VERY GOOD TRANSITION INTO THE 1D WORLD FROM HAVING GOSSIP GIRL BE MY LIFE FOR 6 YEARS!
What makes fangirls or just fandoms in general angry is subtweets, leaked pics or just random shit they find without any explanation. If u two are dating make it official. If you guys are happy, we are happy and everythings chill.
A few requests/Imagines ~ Not all Imagines I have written are here, some are, it will take me ages to get all the links up. Also please note that some of the imagines were written when I first started so it is actually embarrassing to even still have them up on Tumblr because of how bad they are, so I already know they suck. :)
You close your eyes and sink deeper into the lavender-scented water, sighing in contentment. After flying to London, you’ve been with people non-stop, and it’s lovely to have a moment to yourself.
“Excuse me, did someone order SUSHI?” You hear the door slam as some plastic bags rustle before a mysterious thud is followed by some expletives. Harry’s back early.
“Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabe! Where are you? Did you run away already? I know this rock and roll lifestyle that I live isn’t for everyone, but honestly, I thought you’d last a bit longer!” You can hear the sarcastic lilt of his voice getting further away as he investigates the bedroom. “Helloooooooo? I brought sake? It’s five o’clock somewhere, and I thought we could be naughty!” His singsong continues around the flat before stopping outside of the bathroom door. “Love? Are you in there?”
“You found me!” you chuckle, “but I’m dripping wet, so I couldn’t exactly run to the door!”
He bursts in, a mess of takeout bags, haphazard curls, and pointed boots. “A bath? Without me? Honestly, I’m insulted.”
“I thought you’d eat with the lads! You said you would be recording all day!”
“I wanted to surprise you for lunch! Since you’ve gotten here, we’ve barely gotten a moment to ourselves, and I know it must be exhausting dealing with so many public appearances for the first time. I chose this life, so it doesn’t bother me too much, but I hate to see what a toll it takes on you.” He ducks his head thoughtfully, and you can’t believe how perceptive he is to your discomfort in the public eye.
“You’re so sweet! Just give me a minute, and I’ll put on some clothes so that we can have lunch together” you concede, but Harry looks downright appalled at the idea.
“Nope! No, don’t you DARE move. Just wait one second.”
You notice a mischievous glint in Harry’s eyes, one that is frequently followed by his ridiculous ideas and their subsequently disastrous outcomes. “Haz… what are you up to?”
“Just hold on. Relaaaaaax!” He sticks the takeout containers on the bathroom counter and moves towards the door, nearly tripping when one of his pointed boots catches on the bath mat. He wobbles uncertainly before steadying himself. “Saaaaaaafe” he bellows after the danger passes. “And YOU call me a klutz! Would a klutz have recovered so quickly? And with SUCH fine form? I think not.” But, before you have a chance to respond, he’s out the door.
You look around the room: the small tub filled nearly to the brim with lavender water, the iPad playing Gossip Girl perched precariously on the toilet seat, and, the most recent addition, a bag of raw fish on the counter… This couldn’t possibly end well.
Just when you’ve finally relaxed back into your bath, Harry returns, stark naked, holding what appears to be a plank of wood from his living room bookshelf. “Now, before you make a joke about my wood, just give me a chance” he smirks, clearly making the joke before you can even process the endless possibility for cheesy puns being presented to you. He puts the piece of wood across the tub like a sort of tray, and gingerly places each separate box of sushi onto it, along with soy sauce, ginger, and chopsticks.
“Harry… what the fuck?” you murmur in disbelief.
“GIVE ME A CHANCE, WOMAN! I’m compromising!” he looks at you with wide eyes before gasping to himself and turning around. “Candles! I forgot candles!” and, before you know it, all you see is his bare bum darting out of the room yet again.
He returns with the large scented candle from the bedroom. “I don’t think we have any dinner candles. Like, the fancy ones that mum has at Christmas? Why don’t we have any of those?”
“Don’t be silly, (Y/N), it would be gold! You prefer gold!” He’s clearly proud of himself for remembering your preferred metallic hue. Before you get an opportunity to laud him for his attention to detail, however, he puts one foot over the edge of the tub.
“Be careful, Haz! You’ll make a soggy mess of the bathroom!” you exclaim, squeezing your eyes shut at the thought of your bath being ruined in a mess of floating salmon and avocado.
“You’ve made a soggy mess… of my HEART!” he jokes before sloshing himself into the tub, a tornado of inked skin, toned muscle, and a veritable lion’s mane of messy curls.
You giggle at his cheesy joke, and when you open your eyes, the food is miraculously dry, though the water is still lapping dangerously close to the edge of the tub. Harry lights the candle with a smirk. “You doubted me, didn’t you? I can tell that you doubted me. Where’s the trust? The faith? Honestly, woman, what do you think of me?”
Rather than responding, you ask the question that you can’t seem to shake. “Haz, did you just get into the tub…with a butane lighter?”
“Well, it’s not as though it would’ve caught fire if it’d fallen in the water…” he looks at you patiently, waiting for you to acknowledge his clear genius. “Now, carry on with your relaxation. What’re we watching, now?”
“Um…season 1 of Gossip Girl?”
“Excellent,” he nods in agreement. “Catch me up to speed. Is this pre or post ‘Chuck and Blair have sex in the back of a limo?’”
“SPOILERS!” you gasp in feigned horror, more than aware that Harry, who shares both your Netflix account and your love of romantic comedies, will see right through your act.
“Don’t toy with my feelings, woman. You know this relationship never would’ve lasted if we didn’t share a mutual appreciation for intrigue, scandal, and the fashion choices of Charles Bartholomew Bass. So, are we pre or post Victor/Victrola? Give it to me straight!”
“Pre. I’m working my way up to it, and there’s about 4 episodes left,” you inform him.
“Can we skip straight to it, and then skip to ‘3 words, 8 letters, say it and I’m yours?’ Please?” he pleads. “I don’t have your patience!”
“Fine…” you concede. “Just let me finish this one, and then we’ll skip straight to the burlesque show, limo sex-filled glory.”
He celebrates his victory with a look of proud contentment before sinking further into the water. “Hey (Y/N)? Why haven’t you shared these bath bombs before? I feel like a damned princess right now! There’s glitter and confetti and shit! It’s like a lil party!” he says giddily before blowing bubbles in the water, and you can’t help but crack a smile.
After biting into your last piece of sushi, you look up to see Harry waggling his eyebrows suggestively, pulling a bottle of sake out from beside the tub. “I didn’t grab any glasses, so I suppose we’ll just have to drink out of the bottle like heathens.”
“Works for me! I don’t have cooties, I promise” you smirk.
“(Y/N), if you had cooties, I’d already be pretty well compromised, wouldn’t I?” he responds, moving his foot suggestively up your thigh.
“Harry, stop! We’re in a tub with raw fish!” you squeal, mildly scandalized.
“Raw fish, you say?” he responds lasciviously, taking a large swig of sake.
You shudder at his quickly crafted double entendre, gazing at him with equal parts disgust, fascination, and adoration. “How are you simultaneously a lewd old man, a messy little boy, a hipster musician, and a goddamned diva?” you ask him playfully. “How did I get so lucky?” you ask him, not so playfully.
“I’m not sure, but, quite frankly, your incessant chatter is distracting me from a far more pressing dilemma. WHY is Charles Bartholomew Bass wearing a heinously patterned tank top? I understand that he’s ‘playing basketball,’ and I’ve made a lot of risky fashion decisions in my lifetime, but this is one that I simply CANNOT condone.”
You balk at the ridiculous shift in conversation before coming up with a retort. “Says the man with sparkly heeled boots,” you giggle, grabbing the sake from his outstretched hand as he stares at you with disbelief, shocked and appalled that you would joke about something so precious as his sparkly boots.
“You’re just jealous because they didn’t come in your size,” he replies smugly, and he’s not wrong.
One of the most divisive arguments between Larries and antis/non-Larries is that over belief in the “media narrative” - that is, the overarching story that is told through media outlets, online magazines and newspapers and tabloids, as well as what is published as official 1D material, about One Direction and its members.
The argument, from the Larrie perspective, goes something like this: 1DHQ (comprised of a number of subsidiaries, companies, organizations, agents, representatives, etc.) presents a particular story, or narrative, about 1D’s members, and this story is published through articles and gossip rags, etc.
So, to address the question from my title, which is what many Larries ask of people who have questions about the veracity of their theories:
“Do you believe everything the media tells you?”
I believe the only reasonable answer to this question is – “no, but neither do I believe that everything the media reports is a lie, and neither do you.” Because it IS true that Larries believe some of what is reported to them by the media. The real point of difference is how one determines what it is reasonable to believe.