"Tal vez podamos encontrar un lugar para sentirnos bien y si estamos aquí el tiempo suficiente, veremos que todo es para nosotros y perteneceremos" -𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒮𝓉𝓎𝓁𝑒𝓈-𝒯𝒫𝒲𝒦 Mitología griega AU

"UNIVERSO ALTERNATIVO". En donde los chicos siguen haciendo musica. Louis es el director de la orquesta de Londres, Harry es el nuevo y emocionante conductor interino,ex violinista que "hizo que Mozart sea genial otra vez" de acuerdo a la revista Esquare (Louis comienza a odiarlo de inmediato, y es por eso que lo stalkea virtualmente en lo oscuro de su habitacion muy tarde a la noche), y Niall es el mejor. Tambien aparece Zayn y Liam. ~ No tararé Bolero Traducción del fic "Love Is A Rebellious Bird" de gloria_andrews & 100percentsassy. *Todos los derechos a ellas*. [ http://archiveofourown.org/works/1162438 ]

Recopilación de historias sobre el nacimiento del imperio más poderoso del mundo: Los Akgon. Saga Dragonscale #0

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too. Don't hum Bolero. All rights reserve to the owner.

Harry has only had his room for thirty-two minutes when it stops being his. Uni AU. Harry had turned up at the halls of residence expecting fun, new friends, and maybe a life experience or two. What he doesn't expect is a surprise roommate who's loud and dramatic and obsessed with tea and is maybe, actually, all he's ever wanted. * by Hazmesentir on ao3

He doesn't know what he had been expecting out of the road trip itself besides burping contests and too much shitty gas station food with Oli and Stan, but in the brief moment before Harry ambles up his driveway, Louis idly wonders if this is about to become some sort of Gay Coming of Age story. Maine to California in ten days. In which Zayn's an open-shirt hippie they meet somewhere in Ohio, Liam's the pastor's son running away from home, and Niall's the number they call on the bathroom wall. It's 1978. Harry and Louis are just trying to get to San Fran in time for the Queen concert.

"I will kill you in your sleep," Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans. "I don't think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time." "I'll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don't call me that." (Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.)

"It's an easy job." He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. "Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic." Louis gazes over to Harry. He's looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he's talking more to himself than Louis. "Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing." That's not how Louis remembers it to be, "You lying?" He honestly can't tell. Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes. "No," He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, "I won't put you in any dangerous situation." His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth. or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

"What about this, Captain?" Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively. Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He's lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He's clearly a prisoner, but there's something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry's brain. Something he can't quite put his finger on. "Put him in my cabin," Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry's back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can't understand any of it.

Repost from whoknows on ao3 "What about this, Captain?" Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively. Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He's lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He's clearly a prisoner, but there's something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry's brain. Something he can't quite put his finger on. "Put him in my cabin," Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry's back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can't understand any of it.