Don't you call her baby. We're not talking lately. Don't you call her what you used to call me... A story in which a girl who writes songs falls in love with the boy who sings them. "Color...What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams." - Paul Gauguin. DO NOT PRINT MY BOOKS! *TW: story contains mature topics such as mental abuse, PTSD, minor drug usage, and minor sexual content.*

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. All credits go to ©️ Velvetoscar.

"It's hard letting go. I'm finally at peace but it feels wrong." {Under going editing. It's being rewritten from the beginning, grammatical errors are being fixed. Should be completely edited and polished by December}

❝What are your dreams, young man?❞ ❝I- I don't know, sir..❞ He answered, stuttering a bit. ❝I don't know..❞ Harry never expected that such a question would throw him off as much as it did. He didn't expect that he'd be thinking about that same question until three am, or that he would come up with something as crazy as he did.. Something crazy that had always been a dream of his, but what always seemed too crazy. Harry never thought that leaving would do as much damage as it did. He never thought it would really effect people, but he also couldn't imagine any other way of finding his happiness, and his happy ending.

"Smoking is bad, you know." The placid voice speaks up from the distant dark corner, nothing to see but a tall silhouette and an orange glow of a cigarette cherry. "It's the least of my problems," I murmur with my own between my lips, proceeding to feel the stagnant debris valley my throat when I suck delicately. He exhales a chuckle of cynical amusement, his footsteps getting every step clearer to my eardrums until I eventually sense body heat burning my back. "And why is that?" He whispers over my shoulder, hands inviting themselves to grip the railing in front of me so I become a prisoner between his inked arms. I swallow. "Because you'll be the one to kill me first." // Aven Brooks is hired to take pictures for the world-renown punk rock band known today as Duplicity; hoping the experience gets her into her most elite-dreamed university. However, when her lenses accidentally capture more than just cheeky sound checks and performances, she comes to a horrifying discovery that Duplicity is anything but a band. Appalled and frightened, she's trapped. *HIGHEST RANKINGS* #1 IN HARRYSTYLES #1 IN ONEDIRECTION ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO @happydays1d NOT ALLOWING TRANSLATIONS! CONTAINS VULGAR LANGUAGE / DRUG ABUSE / SEXUAL CONTENT / DESCRIPTIVE VIOLENCE / MENTAL HEALTH READ AT OWN RISK!

It all started with the headaches. Harry's fine, he thought just so so tired. My own rendition of the iconic Cold Blue Water fic.

Louis Tomlinson is the most popular guy in high school. Everyone worships him and the fact that he is the captain of the football team doesn't make matters worse. He's cocky and knows all too well that every student at school adores him. Well, except for one person that is; Harry Styles. Harry is quite the opposite of Louis. He likes school and cares about his grades while Louis just laughs it off. It so happens that these two boys go to the same school and even have the same timetable. They both hate it and can't stand the thought of having to be close to each other. What happens when they suddenly have to become stepbrothers? Will the hate still be there, or will it turn into something else? What if everything gets too difficult for the two of them? Highest Ratings: #1 in Larry (1/11-21) #1 in Louis (12/4-20) #1 in Larrystylinson (2/5-20) #1 in Direction (31/8-20) #1 in Tomlinson (10/12-20) #1 in Stylinson (14/12-21) #2 in Onedirection (9/1-20) #2 in One (3/8-20) #10 in Fanfiction (19/12-17) © All Rights Reserved 2015. Larrys_Girl

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. WARNING: all rights go to velvetoscar on ao3 Cover made by: whatkooloser

"you're so small." as if to prove his point, louis squeezed harry tightly in his arms, and harry just scrunched up a little bit, snuggling his head impossibly farther into louis' chest. "my pretty paper doll." and when louis squeezed him again, placing a shaky, yet warm kiss on harry's cold forehead, harry felt his heart feel that way again, he felt love. a soft flutter, that even the most self control in the world couldn't stop. he loved louis. he loved him even though he didn't want to, he really didn't. okay, maybe a little. *** 1ST PLACE IN THE HOLIDAY 2014 BROMANCE AWARDS FOR FAMOUS LARRY STORIES. #2 in Fanfiction #1 in One Direction