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Great, very funny. He’s very silly and very sweet. Very professional, and never too serious. Like I would be singing in the booth and I would cut a vocal and he’d be like ‘Oh, that was terrible, you should try it again,’ like joking. He was very nice, very very sweet guy.
Ariana Grande on the question; What was he [Harry Styles] like to work with? x (via horanaroh)

(Source: ohstylesno)


Anonymous asked:

"shut up!" zarry


"Shut up!" Zayn bellows, fists pounding at the wooden door next to his own. "I fucking swear, Harry!"

He hears a bottle roll across the floor, the shuffling off feet on the other side of it. Harry Styles throws open the door and peers at Zayn from across the threshold, as disheveled and disgusting as always.

"Can I help you?" Harry crosses his arms over his bare chest, in nothing but a pair of boxers.

"Can you shut the fuck up for five fucking minutes?" Zayn shoves at him, hard, following him into his messy apartment. "I am trying to work and you’re either singing or banging around or fucking someone against the wall, and I can’t think straight.”

"Sounds like a personal problem to me," Harry smirks, back hitting the wall behind him, Zayn’s hands on his shoulders.

Zayn had been trying to finish the last file he brought home, the last shred of work he had for the weekend, and Harry had been banging pots and pans around, singing at the top of his lungs, the door to his pantry smacking against Zayn’s living room wall over and over, incessantly, like fucking always. Zayn could feel his brain aching, his lungs heaving from anger, and couldn’t stop himself from shutting Harry up once and for all.

"Shut. Up."

Zayn huffs, breath blowing the hair on Harry’s forehead slightly. Harry stares at him, like he’s just as angry, which is insane.

"Make me."

Zayn almost smacks him, almost takes a hand to Harry’s ridiculous face after months of clenching his fists to keep calm, when Harry grabs his cock straight through his jeans. Hard. Insistent. Zayn’s stomach clenches, his fingers tighten on Harry’s shoulders, as the last ounce of oxygen leaves his body. And then, because he’s a cliche, he throws his face at Harry’s and they begin kissing and biting like animals.

"Took you fucking long enough," Harry says with a small smile, pushing at Zayn, moving him against the opposite wall.

"Fuck off," Zayn shoves Harry’s boxers to the floor.

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