'When I was six years old, I broke my leg' and more moments Louis and Harry shared growing up together. Short story inspired by Castle On The Hill by Ed Sheeran. •Larry Stylinson• © larry_smilinson

"Can I get some of your sour kisses?" Harry has a candy store and Ernest and Doris love sweets. • larry stylinson • © larry_smilinson

Where Louis Tomlinson literally runs into Harry Styles at the supermarket. At the end of the day he ends up with his number...but how? He likes fruit loops. Who likes fruit loops?

Harry secretly always waits until Louis is asleep just to hear him purr every night. Harry can’t think of anything cuter than a rolled up purring Louis Tomlinson in his bed, he just can't. *Short one-shot*

"So this is my new secretary?" Mr.Styles asked, raising one of his eyebrows. "Yes." The now ex-secretary replied. Mr. Styles frowned, giving Louis a once over, "I was expecting...someone...I don't know, better?" "Excuse me, Mr.Rude, I will be the one managing your schedules from now on so you might want to watch your tongue."

"Your Grandpa Harry hated trouble and I was the definition of trouble." "Then how did he end up with you?" "Well kid it all started with a good morning from trouble himself."

“Mhm. Soulmates, the two of them.” Harry lays back on the grass, shielding the sun from his eyes with his arm. The last thing Louis needed was the sun shining down on Harry, not that he was staring or anything. “Do you have a soulmate?” He asks, curious to how matchmaking worked. It must be nice, watching people around you fall in love. “I do. Somewhere. Everyone has one.” or the one where Louis finds out he's the son of Athena, Harry keeps matching him with the wrong people, Niall accidentally breaks into Louis's flat and Liam doesn't know when to stop asking out Zayn.

[ SHORT STORY ] arachibutyrophobia; (noun) a fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of one's mouth ▄︻̷̿┻̿═━一 louis doesn't like peanut butter, yet harry always insists that he tries it. ♡ story idea credit to: GerardBaby ♡

"If he scolds, I shall tell him that he sings as sweetly as a bird. If he frowns, I'll say he looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew. If he will not speak a word, I shall say how well he talks. If he tells me to be gone, I shall thank him as if he had asked me to stay a week. Let him scold as loudly as a thunderstorm I shall still make him love me."