"Oh fųck, here we go again with the name guessing," some girl behind us groans. "Remedy?" Harry tries. The girls shake their heads and yell my name again. "Trinity?" He asks but frowns when the girls shake their heads again and point their fingers at me. They yell my name once again. "Ovaltine?" He tries again, chuckling at the end. "Kennedy?" Harry asks finally, and the girls grin in success - I see on the big screens. Harry straightens up and fist pumps. I feel the whole world closing in. "She's Kennedy!" Mom yells, pointing at me. Understanding dawns on Harry and he resumes his previous crouch, this time, right in front of me. "Hello Kennedy," he drawls with a dimpled smile on his face. ---- (May 22, 2020) #1 on #kennedywalsh (September 7, 2020) #1 on #celebrity (October 2, 2020) #16 on #harrystyles (November 10, 2020) #1 on #1d

Do you get Deja Vu when she's with you do you get deja Vu (hmm) do you get Deja Vu - Deja Vu by Olivia Rodrigo Harry Styles x Fem OC! social media x irl

Lucy Evans is a promising, up and coming musician who catches the eye of international superstar, Harry Styles. After forming an unlikely friendship, Harry guides Lucy through the tumultuous yet exhilarating rollercoaster of rock star life. But will Lucy's dark past come back to haunt her and ruin everything she's fought so hard for? And how will her best friend and staple in her life, Finn, feel when Harry seemingly takes over his place?

They say love conquers all but when it's your first love, does the same rule still apply? For Angel and Harry, five years seems so long when you have lost the one love keeping you whole but fate has other plans. Maybe a certain matchmaker is to thank. Either way, will their love be enough to reunite them or will their love burn out? [completed] © rcsewrites 2021.

"For someone who works at a bar, you're not very fun." "It's because I don't like you." loosely inspired by the song 'in the night' by the weeknd started March 2020 finished June 2020

She wasn't expecting it, nor was she prepared. She never thought she would find anything like it again, something so... pure. Emotions were foreign to her. She was not capable of feeling anything. Love was a concept not many people understood. She certainly did not. She was deserted, but content. She was certain nothing could break down her walls. Until the understanding of that very complicated concept came into view.

Imagine if Prince Charles and Princess Diana had a daughter. Now 23 years later, Princess Gwendoline deals with paparazzi, life and love. Everyone states she looks like her mother-- the late and great Lady Diana Spencer-- but Princess Gwendoline barely even knew her. As a snapshot of her life, in the summer of 2018, many things are changing. She is trying to find her place in the monarchy while trying to find her place in the world. Please Note: This was requested by a reader, and it may be is not what they wanted but this is what happens. I am a cynic after all. (It comes out in the rest of my work as well.) I wrote this in twelve hours, so I know it's not my best work. As well as, I know that there is no Princess Gwendoline exists, and I chose to use events during the summer of 2018 to make it more believable.

"tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe." well, this is it. the sun and the moon. complete opposites. one formed from the collapse of its own being. one formed from a collison of two planets that weren't meant to be. live by the sun, love by the moon. tw: mature content, anxiety attacks, depression, (mentions of) suicide, self harm, ed.

Harry doesn't believe in coincidences. Neither should she.

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.