We're all mad here, it's Wonderland. ~ Harry latches onto my passionate on-beat arms as he keeps me from moving forward. "Are you fuckin' mad?" He grits through his teeth. "I'm in Wonderland, Pretty Boy," I throw my free arm in the air, motioning to the surrounding world. "Of course, I've gone a little mad." He flips me around as the level of infuriation rises throughout his clenched jaw, trying to remain composed. "Don't try and be something you're not, Presley." I rip away from his hold, furrowing my brows from the curt statement, the honest revelation that should've just stayed within his mind. "We'll never be the heroes, and you know that," he says, colder than the Arctic's towering waves. "We'll never win." We'll never find Purple. Purple, the color of the Star-Crossed Lovers.

She thought she knew what pain was, until she met Harry. *This story is in the process of being edited. Please excuse all typos and grammar mistakes. Thank you!* Copyright © 2014 All Rights Reserved

Roots from the trees go deep within the soil of the earth. Roots within us grow deep within our soul, linking us to our family, our hopes, our dreams.. Our roots lead us to our start.. they lead us to our heart. Sterling King is a girl with deep roots, and long branches that lead to nothing. Harry Styles is a boy with bright leaves, and ever growing colors. EXCERPT: "Hi." "Um... hi." "What's your name?" "Sterling...." "Well... Aren't you going to ask me what mine is?" "No...Why would I do that?" "Because I'm a stranger peaking over the fence... I thought you'd be curious." "Well I'm a stranger sitting in a tree house... I stopped being curious a long time ago. Curiosity brings nothing but trouble." "Well I'm Harry... and I'm curious about you Sterling..." "Well... stop." -------------------------- DO NOT PRINT MY WORK!!! "Roots are not in landscape or a country, or a people, they are inside you." - Isabel Allende • TW: mentions of death, and rape/sexual assault. PTSD.

[COMPLETED] * currently editing asset • noun a useful or valuable thing or person. A sociopath mafia member who is far too good at his job, and a girl who never wanted to be a part of it, but somehow always would be. ©lonelyari 2020

Rose does not like Harry. And Harry does not like Rose. But perhaps the threat of a ruthless brain and a shady corporate conspiracy could change for them. or, at least, could make a stash of Snickers. He was like the moon-- a part of him was always hidden

My thoughts you can't decode.. Sequel : Escape Route.

"One game, one hand. That's all I want." He smiles confidently at me, "You really think you can win against me? In every deck of cards there are 2,598,960 possible hands. You're going to be dealt only one of those Styles. One." "One is all I need. Do we have a bet?" He narrows his eyes in thought. "What exactly would we be playing for?" "If you win, I'll do your fûcking dirty work for you." I spit. "Alright." He nods, "And if you win?" "If I win... I get her." ______________________________________ Reviews.... 'One of the most mesmerising, captivating stories. It races forward, twisting in a new direction every chapter... I can't get enough of it. Simply in love with it.' - @Zaynmxgnet 'The Most Dangerous Game gets all up in my feels and makes me screech...' - @BellaBlack93 'My heart cannot take the pure blessing that this book is, it is so beautifully written' - @toxic_incense '..a story where the words explain exactly what it is. As you go along with the reading, you realise that all the characters have been put into the same game board with different positions.... If you are looking for suspense, tension, thriller, and drama then welcome to The Most Dangerous Game.' - @Anaisbabe1994

18+ / Very Mature "Please, this is like cliche-central. With a kinky twist." ††† I step under the hot stream of water, soaking my hair, and take a deep breathe. I try and clear my mind, focusing on the way the water feels hitting my body. I turn around, opening my eyes, only to shout out a curse and stumble back. Emma is directly in front of me, taking off her tank top, eyes glued to my body. I hadn't shut the curtains, thinking no one would be in here, and I didn't know if I was happy or mad I did that. I stood there speechless as her small hands grasped the bottom of her sports bra. I inhaled sharply when she pulled it up and over her head, exposing her breasts. They jiggled slightly as she tossed her clothes to the side, and I found my heart rate quickening at an alarming rate. "W-what are you doing?" I breathe out as she pulls her leggings down her body, leaving her in just a thong. "Showering." Emma tells me as if it's obvious.

"H-Harry please!" I cried, my hands placed protectively in front of my face. His eyes darkened, and he grabbed my wrists, pinning them against the wall. His breath rolled over my face, the faint scent of alcohol rolling up my nose. "Shut up." He growled. His short nails dug into my arm and I winced in pain. He released me, and grabbed a handful of my hair instead. I shrieked in pain as he threw me to the ground. Tears pricked my eyes and I squeezed my eyes shut. "Get up." He said. I opened my eyes, and scrambled to my feet quickly. He grabbed the front of my shirt to pull me closer, leaning down to my level. His eyes burned straight through mine. Chills went down my spine and I bit my bottom lip out of fear. "How many times do I have to tell you? You. Are. Mine." -------------------------- In a complex narrative, where Harry wrestles with the voices of schizophrenia, the story unfolds with uncertainty. The question lingers: Will Harry succumb to the relentless voices, potentially breaking down Louis, or will Louis summon the strength to confront the darkness that threatens him and stand resolute in his own defense? The outcome rests upon the delicate interplay of their intertwined fates, a story of mental struggles and strength yet to fully reveal itself.

In the world of psychiatric practice, Louis Tomlinson's relentless dedication, marked by tireless toil and unwavering resolve, had propelled him to a coveted position. With unspoken pride, he bore the title of a seasoned psychiatrist. Life, for him, was a tranquil river until an exceptional case, shrouded in rarity, crossed his path. Within the hallowed halls of his profession, he faced an extraordinary challenge. As fate wove its intricate web, Louis Tomlinson found himself grappling with an emotion he never fathomed within the confines of his clinical world. Love, fervent and profound, had taken root, entwining his heart with that of his patient-a young man known as Harry Styles. "He's the joker. I'm his queen." [This story is a Harley queen x Joker spin off]