Open Letter to 1DHQ, et. al:
I’m seeing important people in this fandom-who have attended multiple concerts & spent thousands of dollars-leaving because of your utter bullshit. And they have every right to feel hurt and slighted by what your client said in a gay-friendly magazine.  If your ultimate goal is to devalue the 1D brand as they transition to smarter, more competent, more humane management, then you’re doing a bang-up job. Kudos. If your secondary goal is to rid the fandom of all the Larries because we are so “threatening” to Liam, Niall, Harry and Louis, then you’re also doing a pretty good job of that.
You can delete my Larry-friendly blog with 13K followers, you can suspend my Larry twitter for the tenth time, you can “green light” homophobic bullshit in the media until the cows come home but
And now I’m pissed off. Royally. We love these amazingly talented boys who bring us so much joy yet you’ve continually kicked us in the teeth over our one cardinal sin: thinking/knowing/believing Harry and Louis are in a committed relationship. And quite frankly, I’m sick of it. So here’s my tactic, just to piss you off:
And I’ll wave my rainbow flag, and tweet 100 times a day “Larry is Real” and I’ll reblog erotic Larry fan art, and I’ll write 20 smutty Larry fan fictions because that’s what I like to do. Also because it will completely piss you off. So when “Laundry Day” happens and Harry and Louis finally, mercifully come out of the closet, I can tell my fellow Larries “WE MADE IT!” I also will write “FUCK YOU” on my rainbow flag and send it to your office via first class post.
for making people feel badly about themselves for being non-straight, non-CIS, and for invalidating their identities. For making a fandom so toxic that people have to leave in order to preserve their well-being and mental health. And for continuously marketing “Larry” as a conspiracy theory and something that should be quickly dismissed if you were a “real fan”. When in reality, Harry and Louis’ love story is inspiring and beautiful and amazing and could’ve been marketed brilliantly for the past five years to make you even more money.
I feel like a prize fighter in the ninth round of a heavyweight fight and I’m bleeding profusely from a giant gash across my head and my eye is swollen shut and my jaw is broken in two places and my opponent has me pinned against the ropes just pummeling me. But somehow, someway, I find the strength to deliver one final, lethal punch that knocks my opponent out and
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