So on yet another road trip I did a dastardly deed and made a playlist of all Harry, Louis, and Niall’s solo stuff. And as I listened on shuffle, I just couldn’t escape the feeling that one of these things was not like the other. Niall’s songs more oft than not are about love—the temptress, desire, being left, the kind of embryonic beginnings and swift endings of someone who actually dates people. But Harry and Louis? You know that saying “history never repeats itself, but it rhymes”? That’s what they do. Album after album, era to era, I could trace a path through greif, miscommunication, petty fights, coffee, stars, too much thinking and too much drinking, annoyance, adoration. There’s a depth that belies an understanding. And going forward in time, songs that tackled other loves, moved to explore friendship (Matilda, That’s the Way Love Goes) and beauty and home and belonging (Common People, TPWK). There’s even the constant reference to smoking.
It’s not so much that I think they’re perfect people with a flawless happily ever after. But they’re bound still, in their songs, in their lyrics, rhyming in ways only visible from a distance, from a collective glance at how these threads weave a tapestry of growing up and getting wiser and healing. I’ve been willing to be disproved of their connection for a while now, and always the stunts are yearly and the articles too predictable, and I come back to listening to them in the only place they have control, and despite the added “girl who looked like you” or “went to your uni” or the pretense that Harry’s albums each have a distinct muse, this rhyming brings me back here. To boys who touched secretly behind tables. Who kissed while potato cameras watched. Who held hands miserably with girl after girl only to press their knees together on interview couches.
It all comes back to this every single time. They are steeped together—intermingled, crushed essence irretrievably bound in boiling waters—and it’s so obvious if you only listen.
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The Silver Dagger by babyhoneyheslt
Mature | 30k
After nearly being kidnapped by Prince Ben of Denmark, Queen Anne and King Desmond search for a safe place for Prince Harry to stay until they find him a suitor he likes.
They choose the place no one would think to look for a prince, a pirate ship. Captain Louis Tomlinson is a privateer as well as a pirate, and is loyal to the crown, and so he vows to protect Harry to the best of his ability.
With Harry kept safe on board The Silver Dagger, his parents work to find an array of suitors, but he just might find he wants someone else
Written for the @1daboficfest
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Louis and Harry are exhausted. Their bodies sprawled out on the cold kitchen floor, their butts sitting heavy against the linoleum. The room is dimly lit… the only source of light coming from the small, open refrigerator in the corner of the room.
The two lovers have once again fallen victim to Harry's notorious late-night pregnancy binges.
Harry, in his eighth month of pregnancy, has longbeen known to raid the fridge at odd hours of the night, searching for something… anything… to gobble down. Tonight was no different.
Harry stumbled into the kitchen, his tiny baby bump barely protruding in front of him. Like a greedy robot, his eyes scanned the refrigerator shelves… searching for something to satisfy his insatiable hunger.
Louis — having gotten out of bed shortly after realizing that Harry was gone — joined him in his quest for satiation. Together, they devoured a leftover pizza, and entire pie, bags and bags of shredded cheese, and anything else they could get their hands on… until their stomach were nearly bursting.
As they lay there, on the kitchen floor — their bodies no longer able to move, under the extreme weight of their bloats — they suddenly realize the horrible extent of their indulgence. The kitchen floor is now a burial ground for empty containers and discarded wrappers… corpses, left in the wreckage of their late-night binge.
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Pequeno spoiler de " The very first time I was touched by a man..."
me deixem saber o que vocês acharam!
"Lou...posso te perguntar uma coisa?". "Claro, Haz"
"Você já sentiu tesão por alguém que não deveria?" Louis engole seco pela pergunta inesperada e uma chama se acende em seu peito com o pensamento de que Harry não era tão inocente quanto ele pensava, o quanto ele gostaria...
"Como assim? Tipo uma mulher mais velha?" "Não...alguém mais velho, sim, mas não uma mulher..." Harry olhava para suas mãos que se ocupavam com a taça de vinho que já intoxicava seu organismo o suficiente para o dar coragem de fazer tal pergunta.
"É...não seria alguém que você não deveria sentir tesão, Haz. Não pense assim, tá tudo bem se sentir atraído por homens." ."Eu sei disso Louis, tô perguntando se, você, já sentiu.". "Já...". "E por quem foi? Você tomou alguma atitude?". "Por que essa curiosidade do nada, Harry? Por acaso você está ficando com alguém, hein?..."
Harry se sentiu mais envergonhado que possível, ele não sabia o que responder ao mais velho, como falar sem falar, sem deixar claro que era ele o seu sonho percaminoso, sua violenta vontade.
"Não! Eu só estou curioso, você sabe...na minha idade provavelmente tinha ereções por qualquer garota que respirava, e eu também. Mas outro dia aconteceu por um garoto e eu só queria saber se eram só hormônios ou, não sei! outra coisa"
Louis também olhava para sua mão, não queria admitir, vai que deixava escapar que o mais novo o enchia de desejo, mas ele sabia que tinha que dizer algo, que deveria tranquilizar Harry de alguma forma, o deixar confortável e o fazer entender que poderia ser quem ele quisesse ser.
"Na sua idade não, pequeno, mas acho que a curiosidade acontece sabe, em qualquer idade e é normal. Não sei se foi atração ou algo assim, mas entendo o que você está falando, com certeza os hormônios ajudaram, mas acho que é outra coisa"
"Como eu faço para saber se é outra coisa, Lou, eu não quero ficar com estranho com ele...". "Que nem tava comigo? Foi por isso?" " Você também estava estranho comigo...foi isso?"
...
Com os olhos piedões e cheio de lágrimas pelo tamanho prazer, a boca inchada e aquela aura sexual que o cercava, ele mordeu os lábios inferiores deixando a mostra os dentinhos de coelho, e lambeu a boca de Louis antes de pedir: "Lou, me leva pro quarto! Eu quero que você me deixe molhadinho e pronto pra você."
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