and since i'm going home before it comes out i'll have to go see it in the morning alone ; ;

Melodrama sentence starters
  • "I know about what you did and I wanna scream the truth."
  • "You're such a damn liar."
  • "Thought you said that you would always be in love, but you're not in love no more."
  • "Did it frighten you how we kissed when we danced on the light up floor?"
  • "Honey, I'll be seein' you wherever I go."
  • "I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it."
  • "I'll come get my things, but I can't let go."
  • "Played it so nonchalant, it's time we danced with the truth."
  • "I'm acting like I don't see."
  • "My hips have missed your hips."
  • "Will you sway with me?"
  • "We're King and Queen of the weekend."
  • "Ain't a pill that could touch our rush."
  • "But what will we do when we're sober?"
  • "These are the games of the weekend."
  • "We pretend that we just don't care."
  • "I know you're feeling it, too."
  • "Don't know you super well, but I think that you might be the same as me."
  • "Let's let things come out of the woodwork."
  • "I'll give you my best side, tell you all my best lies."
  • "Know I think you're awesome, right?"
  • "Blowing shit up with homemade dynamite."
  • "Might get your friend to drive, but he can hardly see."
  • "I guess we're partying."
  • "You know it's really gonna blow."
  • "Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor."
  • "I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush."
  • "I overthink your punctuation use."
  • "A rush at the beginning, I get caught up, just for a minute."
  • "Lover, you're the one to blame, all that you're doing."
  • "Can you hear the violence?"
  • "Blow all my friendships to sit in hell with you."
  • "We're the greatest, they'll hang us in the Louvre, down the back, but who cares - still the Louvre."
  • "You are not my type, still I fall."
  • "I'm just the sucker who let you fill her mind."
  • "Baby really hurt me."
  • "He don't wanna know me, says he made the big mistake of dancing in my storm, says it was poison."
  • "I guess I'll go home."
  • "I'll go home into the arms of the girl that I love."
  • "She's so hard to please, but she's a forest fire."
  • "You're a little much for me."
  • "You're a liability, you're a little much for me."
  • "The truth is I am a toy that people enjoy 'til all of the tricks don't work anymore and then they are bored of me."
  • "Better on my own."
  • "I understand, I'm a liability."
  • "Get you wild, make you leave."
  • "I'm a little much for everyone."
  • "You're all gonna watch me disappear into the sun."
  • "Please could you be tender, and I will sit close to you."
  • "Let's give it a minute before we admit that we're through."
  • "I remember the rush when forever was us, before all of the winds of regret and mistrust."
  • "Our love is a ghost."
  • "Well I guess I should go."
  • "Alone with the hard feelings of love."
  • "God I wish I believed you when you told me this was my home."
  • "I light all the candles, cut flowers for all my rooms. I care for myself the way I used to care about you."
  • "I care for myself the way I used to care about you."
  • "These days, we kiss and we keep busy."
  • "Three years, loved you every single day."
  • "It was real for me."
  • "Now I'll fake it every single day 'til I don't need fantasy."
  • "I still remember everything, how we'd drift buying groceries, how you'd dance for me."
  • "I'll start letting go of little things 'til I'm so far away from you."
  • "Bet you wanna rip my heart out."
  • "Bet you wanna skip my calls now."
  • "Well guess what? I like that."
  • "I'm gonna mess your life up, gonna wanna tape my mouth shut."
  • "We're a loveless generation."
  • "We're a loveless generation; all fuckin' with our lover's heads."
  • "Know you won't remember in the morning."
  • "All the glamour, and the trauma, and the fucking melodrama."
  • "They'll talk about us, all the lovers, how we kissed and killed each other."
  • "We told you this was melodrama."
  • "You're walking out to be a good man for someone else."
  • "Sorry I was never good like you."
  • "Hated hearing my name on the lips of a crowd."
  • "Did my best to exist just for you."
  • "Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark."
  • "She's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart."
  • "I'll love you 'til my breathing stops."
  • "I'll love you 'til you call the cops on me."
  • "I'll find a way to be without you, babe."
  • "I still feel you, now and then."
  • "When you see me, will you say I've changed?"
  • "I love it here since I've stopped needing you."
  • "I am my mother's child."
  • "We keep trying to talk about us."
  • "I'm someone you maybe might love."
  • "I'll be your quiet afternoon crush, be your violent overnight rush."
  • "I fall into continents and cars, all the stages and the stars."
  • "In my head, I do everything right."
  • "When you call, I'll forgive and not fight."
  • "Ours are the moments I play in the dark."
  • "We were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart."
  • "Maybe all this is the party, maybe we just do it violently."
  • "You're not what you thought you were."
  • "Every night, I live and die."
  • "It's just another graceless night."
  • "I hate the headlines and the weather."
  • "I'm 19 and I'm on fire."
  • "When we're dancing, I'm alright."
  • "This is how we get notorious."
  • "We are young and we're ashamed."
  • "All of our heroes fading."
  • "I can't stand to be alone."
  • "Let's go to perfect places."
  • "Let's kiss and then take off our clothes."
  • "All the nights spent off our faces."
  • "What the fuck are perfect places anyway?"
  • "All the nights spent off our faces, trying to find these perfect places."

anonymous asked:

Do you have any advice for a first time flyer? Tips for going through the process, the long flight, and exiting the airport/picking up your luggage and all specifically that would have helped you in hindsight? I have a trip coming up and I'm slightly nervous even after googling tips since I'll likely be flying alone. Thanks ^^

As someone who has flown more than a bit before, and usually by myself, I will give you The Sudden Adult’s Guide to Surviving Plane Trips ™.

Checking In:

  • For most flights, you can “check in” as early as 24 hours before your flight. This will allow you to print your boarding pass at home/library/etc. and cut some of the time you’d be wasting standing in a long-ass line waiting to print your ticket. Gotta love technology.
  • Check your flight the morning of, or a few hours, before you’re scheduled to leave for the airport. Make sure the time hasn’t changed due to weather/mechanical issues/etc. No one wants to arrive at the airport to find out their fucking flight was delayed 5 hours and they now have to wait at a crappy airport coffee shop.
  • Get dropped off at the terminal for your flight. The best way to ensure this is to have a general idea of where your terminal will be. You don’t have to be dropped off there, but it saves you from walking and dragging your luggage down to your airline’s bag check.

Luggage Tips:

  • TIP YOUR BAG PERSON. That person who you drop your luggage off with when you arrive at the airport? Tip them. I usually give $5 per bag. A nice tip and friendly attitude ensures your bag arrives at its destination (usually).
  • If you have a black/brown/gray suitcase, try making it stand out. Usually I see people tie ribbons to the handles. Personally, I have a lime green ribbon and a pink skull luggage tag that are hard to miss (but then, my regular suitcase is also metallic, so it’s a pleasant eyesore).
  • Put luggage tags on your suitcase and carry-on. Make sure your information on the tags is up-to-date. In case your shit goes missing, you want to give the airport a way of finding you.
  • Know what your airline considers a carry-on size. Sometimes airlines will change the carry-on requirements because why not do things to piss off passengers? Check by calling the airline directly or Googling “What is a carry-on bag + name of airline.” Usually you are allowed one carry-on and one personal bag (purse/backpack/laptop case).

TSA/Security Tips:

  • Know the 3-1-1 rule and follow it. Keep your tiny liquids bag in an easily-accessible front or side pocket so you can whip it out without digging through your bag. Same goes for laptops. Make it easy to pull out, because it will have to go in a bin by itself.
  • Wear shoes that easily slip on and off, because you will have to take them off to go through security. Also, wear socks, because who knows what the fuck’s on that airport floor.
  • Take any coats/hoodies off while you wait in line. TSA agents will ask you to take these off anyway, so might as well save the people behind you some time. Same goes for any jewelry, belts, or cellphones that will set off the metal detector. Put them in a pocket of your carry-on.
  • Pay attention to the line when it moves. As a (former) frequent flyer, I cannot explain how annoying it is to be stuck in a line behind someone who is not paying attention. Don’t be that person.
  • Also, if you’re not a frequent flyer, do not get in the experienced flyer line. We can smell the inexperience.
  • Keep your ID and ticket (and passport, if required) easily accessible on your person. This will make going through any additional security nice and easy for you.

Airport Tips:

  • Find out where your terminal is, then worry about getting food or drink. Nothing is more stressful than finally getting your $20 sandwich and then having to run around a large airport trying to find your terminal. Find your terminal and then embark on the search for food.
  • Do not leave your bags unattended. This should really speak for itself.
  • Pee before you fly. Like Ma always said, use the loo before you fly, boo…especially if you need to poo.
  • Good fucking luck finding a place to charge your phone/laptop/nintendo 3DS if you’re flying out during a busy time (holidays, weekends, etc.). Solve the problem by charging these things the night before you leave.

Plane Tips:

  • Put your carry-on in the overhead bin that’s near your seat. If you have anything in there that you might want during the flight (magazine, notebook, etc.), consider getting it out before you get on the plane.
  • Sit in the seat you’ve been assigned. Unless it’s a Southwest flight (which lets passengers choose their own seats upon boarding), your ticket will say where you’ll sit. Sit there. Don’t be the seat-stealing prick of the plane.
  • If you’re nervous, listen to the flight attendant at the beginning. They will explain all regular and emergency procedures. Sometimes knowing how to survive if shit hits the fan can make you feel better.
  • If you think you may  feel sick during the flight, try chewing mint-flavored gum. Gum also helps with you ears popping. If the flight serves drinks, request something soothing like ginger ale. If not, buy a $3 bottle of lemon-lime soda from a place in the airport. My personal experience is that ginger ale solves all flight sickness (or maybe that’s a placebo effect, I don’t know and don’t care, because I like ginger ale).
  • Don’t get up when the flight attendant brings out the little drink cart. There’s never a way around it, so just sit tight until it passes you if you need to get up and pee.
  • Try getting to know your seat neighbor(s), if you’re comfortable with that. Last time I flew, I had an interesting discussion with the old dude sitting next to me about the status of the US economy.

Landing & Leaving:

  • BRACE YOURSELF! Sort of kidding, but if you’re like me and planes make you nauseous, you might want to prepare yourself (I know that I personally feel most sick during turbulence and landing).
  • Don’t bother rushing to get up and stand. The damn plane’s not going to take off again while you’re still on it, so chill out and take your time. If you’re on a flight that’s part of a connecting flight, they’ll usually ask passengers who need to leave to make their next flight to get off first. Some people are jerks and will pretend just so they can leave slightly sooner than others.
  • Be careful when you open the overhead bin. They aren’t kidding when they say stuff may have shifted around. I once saw a lady get beaned on the forehead by her kid’s carry-on.
  • Make your way to the baggage claim. If you have to pee, do it now, because luggage can take a while, so you might as well empty your bladder while you can. And if you’re lost, just follow the people form your plane, or ask someone who looks like an airport employee.
  • Stand around the luggage carousel and wait for your bag. A lot of people crowd around the opening, but you can stand out and wait near the end. The bags go around in circles for fucks sake, so it’s not like you only have one chance to grab your bag. Also, double-check that it is your bag.
  • Check that your ride knows when and where to pick you up. Let them know your flight number, arrival time, and terminal so they can be on the lookout. Pick someone reliable (I’ve been left waiting before, I can tell you it sucks ass).

So…yep. That’s all the tips I can think of.

-The Sudden Adult

PS. If you’re gonna fly, don’t let your arms get tired! HA. HA. HA.

anonymous asked:

When was it, do u think, that Steve and Bucky's relationship turned from "best friends since childhood" to "I'll fight the world but I'm at ur mercy"? Idk if it's just me, but what they have seems kinda rly fucked up and literally unhealthy, and I wonder when their friendship started to veer off towards some sort of extreme devotion where the end of the line either ends with the other or not at all. This was meant as a prompt btw lol

First of all, it’s definitely not just you, because I get comments like that all the time on Warning Shot, and at least one of my friends has said much the same things. I don’t think so, but I think because to me as an author, their relationship just is. And other people keep judging it, and trying to either interrupt it or repair it, and maybe they’re right, but I can’t contemplate “objectively this looks not so great” while writing them.

But, my weird author headspace on the matter aside, you said prompt, so (while this doesn’t technically fit the bill, does it ever when I’m writing it??) here’s a ficlet. (PS: This also relates to my thought that, if Steve tried to enlist four times before Erskine, they were three times spread out over seventeen months, and he tries to enlist twice in one day the day before Bucky is deployed.)


Four attempts to enlist, Erskine says, and Steve flushes. Five attempts, if he counts this one, sitting on a table in his skivvies at the Expo, desperate to join the war.

Steve tries to enlist on December 8th, 1941, two months after Bucky’s already started worrying about the draft. The lines are ridiculous – out the door and around the block, a serpentine coil through city streets, familiar to all of them who had stood in line for bread less than five years before – and it’s freezing, and Bucky rolls his eyes and refuses to take the day off work to stand next to Steve in line, so Steve steals Bucky’s long underwear and layers them over his own.

He comes home with a cough and a 4F stamp on his card.

The second time is in February, 1942, after he visits the cemetery where Sarah Rogers is buried, remembers standing over the gaping hole in the ground that exact day four years before. That day Bucky takes off work, shows up next to Steve at the graveyard with a bundle of lilies that must have cost him a pretty penny so far out of season – he knows when to leave Steve alone, knows that Steve needed to walk to the cemetery with his numb fingers curled around the sketch he’d drawn her, with the frosty air to chill the tears on his face and not Bucky’s warm hands brushing them away.

Bucky walks to the recruitment center with him, then, but he won’t go to the door. Steve calls him a coward, and the whole block turns to stare.

He stops going, after that. Comes home that night with Bucky’s favorite cigarettes, but Bucky isn’t there and no surprise, really. Steve bundles up and goes back out, because his Ma always said he never did things by halves, and finds Bucky at the seventh bar he tries, too far into a bottle of gin.

They don’t talk about the war. They don’t talk about a lot of things, in 1942 – the way Bucky’s face goes tight every time the mail comes, the way he puked on Steve’s shoes when Steve hauled him home, the way Bucky’s mouth still tastes like vomit when they grapple their way into their first, desperate kiss, Steve’s back against the frozen brick of their building and both of them silent as the grave.

Bucky gets the letter late that year. Steve is home to get the mail, tears it open though he already knows what it is. Bucky comes home and the letter is on the table but Steve is nowhere to be seen, up in the Bronx and failing to enlist for the third time.

They don’t talk about the bruises Steve leaves on Bucky’s skin that night, fingerprints pressed into his waist where he holds on too hard.

Bucky leaves for boot camp. Steve sends letters every day; walks down to the post office in sleet and through ice, numb fingers curled around the sketches he’s made, no one to brush away the tears he won’t cry.

When Bucky comes home, he’s sewn into his uniform and waiting for orders. He’s out every night, too far into a bottle of gin. He drags Steve to bars, to dance halls, to Coney Island, insisting that they’re going to find Steve a nice girl.

He calls Steve a coward, when Steve starts refusing to go.

They don’t talk about Steve’s shirt collar buttoned all the way up his neck, the tie he keeps too tight so that any girl nice enough to get that close can’t see the marks Bucky worries onto his pale skin, black and violet against the hollows of his throat.

Steve enlists on a morning in June – tries and fails, the fourth time, the fourth F – the day before Bucky’s ship is scheduled to leave. He catches the train into Jersey, as though he might make it all the way to Italy before the day was through.

Bucky throws away the card and decides they’ll go find Steve a girl. He keeps his arm around Steve’s shoulders until they’re home, rambling about the women they’ll meet, waiting until they make it through the door before hauling Steve to him and finally falling silent.

No one says a word about the hitch in Steve’s step when they go out that night, Steve’s shoulder brushing the sleeve of Bucky’s uniform, the same fabric as Sarah Rogers’s best dress that they’d folded away years before.

Steve enlists five times. Bucky leaves him at the door, the last time, because there are some things that are always done alone. Steve calls him a coward.

They don’t talk about goodbye.

Preference #5: Fan Rules
  • Calum: Being away from your boyfriend is as difficult as it is. Let alone have a million girls chase after him. You trust him but there's always going to be that voice in the back of your mind, reminding you that any second, you could lose the most important thing in your life: Calum. "Babe," Calum says for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. "Talk to me, please," he pleads. You'd been giving him the silent treatment since this morning when you saw another picture of him giving his fans a kiss on the cheek. "What." You spit out. He throws his hands up in defeat and gets up off the couch, "I give up. I don't know what your problem is." You stand up too with a hand on your hip, "You wanna know what my problem is? My problem is this." You show him a picture collage of Calum kissing different fans' cheeks a fan tweeted you. "This, Calum, is my problem." He takes a moment to look at the picture. His jaw relaxes and he takes a seat back on the couch. He gently pulls you to his lap. "I'm sorry," he says, "I didn't know that bothered you. You never said anything." "What was I supposed to say, Calum? Don't kiss your fans? What if they do to you what the did to Ash? I really don't want to be that over protective girlfriend you get sick of. I thought of tell you but either way, someone isn't going to be happy, whether it's me, you, or your fans." "That's cute, babe," he smiles at you. You roll your eyes in frustration, "Calum, take me seriously!" When real names are being used, it usually meant it's a serious matter. "Y/N, I think it's really cute that it bothers you. It shows me you really love me." "Well duh," you laugh, "Let's compromise?" He nods, "How about if they can kiss me but that's it?" You smile, "I can deal with that." Calum places a soft kiss on your lips then cups your face with his hands. You stare into his big brown eyes, careful not to get too lost into them. "Next time something bothers you, I want you to tell me, okay? Don't ever feel like you can't. I'm always here for you," he promises before kissing you again.
  • Michael: You're at the hotel, packing up your bags, and getting ready to head for the road again. You ran out of space in your luggage so you asked Michael if you could put some of your things in his. You rearranged his suit case to make room and you come across a ziplock full of small strips of paper with phone numbers presumably from fans. "Michael," you call from the bed room, "get in here." He comes in and you hold up the ziplock, "What's this?" It bothers you that he'd keep a ziplock full of phone numbers. What would need those for? "Souvenirs," he answers. "Really? You collect phone numbers for souvenirs? What do you need phone numbers for, Michael?" "Babe," he walks towards you and takes the ziplock, "these are from my fans." "Michael. They're phone numbers. Phone numbers!" You rub your forehead in frustration and plop down on the bed. You're feeling all sorts of emotions: anger, confusion, hurt... Michael sits besides you and takes your hand. "You're right," he admits, "that was a pretty stupid thing for me to do." "I know how much you love your fans," you tell him, "and i think it's great they give you guys things to remember each one of them by. But phone numbers, Michael? You have a girlfriend for Christ's sake. What do you need those for?" He nods, "You're right, you're right. I don't need them. I just didn't know what to do with them. I'd feel bad if I were to throw them away." "Well don't throw them away. Give them away instead. Don't you have any single friends?" Michael flashes you a smile, "You're brilliant. I'll just send these home then. Sorry, babe."
  • Ashton: "Where's my boyfriend?" you ask yourself as you search through the herd of fans. 5 Seconds of Summer has really taken off and almost everywhere you and Ashton went, there'd be fans crowding the two of you. You and Ashton were on your way to the movies when a crowd of girls pulled him away from you. The crowd begin to disperse but you still couldn't find Ashton. You walk around some more then find him by the entrance chatting up some girl. A really pretty one of that, actually. "Ashton," you say. He looks over at you and smiles innocently. He hugs the girl goodbye and walks over to you, "Hey." "Hey?" you say exasperated, "I've been looking everywhere for you!" "Oh, yeah... I started talking to Justine. She's a pretty cool fan," he smiles. "I'm sure she is," you respond sarcastically. "What's wrong?" he asks, catching the red light. You shake your head, "Forget it. I'm not even in the mood to watch the movie. I'm going home. What about you?" He looks at you confused then takes out his car keys and you two walk back to the car. The car ride was awfully quiet. You never thought you'd ever get jealous of his fans. But seeing Ashton leave you alone to talk to a fan worried you. What could happen when he goes back on tour? You won't be around anymore to remind him he's off the market. He pulls up to the driveway and shuts off the engine. "Okay, spit it out," he orders. "What's to say?" He looks at you, unamused. "Seriously, Y/N. Cut the crap. What did I do?" "That Julia girl you were talking to." "Justine?" he asks. "Oh my god," you say under your breath. "You even remember her name." "What about her? Y/N, you're acting really weird. It's starting to scare me." "I'm just worried, Ash." "Worried about what?" You shrug, suddenly feeling silly and possessive. "Well I'm going back home in three days. And from the two weeks I've been here with you, I see how close you get with your fans and I just worries me. It sounds silly, I know." He shakes his head, letting some of his loose curls fall, and smiles. "Did I say something funny?" "No," he responds. "It's not silly. I understand. But I don't want you to worry. I love you and there doesn't go a day I don't think about you. Every day I miss you more and more and no one could compare to you. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel neglected or that I like my fans more than my own girlfriend. Me and guys just try and make it a point to bond with them as much as possible, you know? I'd never cheat on you." You smile and lean across to give Ashton a sweet kiss on the lips. "Besides," he says after you pull away, "My Y/N is a hundred times prettier than Julia." "Justine," you correct him. "Whatever," he laughs.
  • Luke: 5 Seconds of Summer is in the US, doing tours and radio shows. They're at an interview and they get into the topic of girlfriends. "Is it difficult?" the interviewers asks Luke, seeing he's the only one with a girlfriend, "Being in a long distance relationship, always away from home?" Luke nods and plays with his lip ring - something he always does when he's nervous. "Do you and Y/N ever get in arguments?" "Yeah," he responds, "Sometimes." Luke's a man of few words. "Like what?" He shrugs, "She goes to Uni so I'm very protective of her." "That's an understatement," Ashton chimes in. "He's super protective of her," Calum adds, "He's literally always phoning her and texting her and asking her questions." Luke smiles at the ground, slightly embarrassed. "What else?" the interviewer urges on. "Fans," Luke admits, "Sometimes Y/N feels intimidated." "Do you two have any rules?" "Yeah... we've each got things we can't do without the other present." "Unfortunately, Y/N's got more restrictions than Luke," Michael snickers, "Over protective bastard."
Preference- Your Child Runs Away
  • A/N: Zayn's is different from all the others and I'm not even sorry
  • Louis: Four times Louis had told your son James not to play football in the house, and yet the mischievous six year old was still kicking around the ball. He had nearly just knocked over one of Louis' Brit awards, and that was the last straw. "That's it! You're grounded, no football for a week," Louis says, taking the football and holding it out of James' reach. "Go to your room." James' eyes get wide; he has never been grounded before. "Dad, that's not fair! That's mine!" "James, I told you four times to stop playing in the house, and you still did. You live in my house, you live by my rules." Your son stomped off to his room, only to come out a few minutes later with his small backpack slung on his shoulders. "Dad, I'm running away," he declares, a determined expression on his face. Louis looks at him skeptically, remembering when he did this same thing when he was six, and decided to do the same thing his mum did to him. "Really, James? Why?" "I can tell that you hate me now. I'll leave so I won't bother you anymore." Louis sighs, a serious expression on his face. "I don't hate you, buddy, but you are six years old. I can't stop you if you really want to leave." James mouth falls open in surprise as he sees his dad reach into his pocket and pull out a few pounds. "Here's some money for the tube, and for a pay phone so you can call us when you get somewhere." The little boy is still speechless as Louis walks him to the front door. "I'll miss you, James. Maybe you can visit on Christmas or something," Louis says when they reach the porch, bending down to give James a hug. "Dad, you're letting me just leave?" James asks incredulously, and Louis nods. "You're six now, James, you're old enough to make your own decisions. If you don't want to live by my rules then I guess you'll just have to find somewhere else to live." James starts walking down the front walkway, taking slow, unsure steps. When he gets to the street, he glances back at his father, watching as Louis gives him one last wave and turns to go back inside. "Dad, wait!" He cries, running back up to him and jumping into Louis' waiting arms. "Dad, I'm really sorry I played football in the house. Please don't make me leave." Louis picks his son up, holding him tight to his chest. "I won't, James. I could never let you just leave. You're my partner against mum and your sister. If you left, I'd be all alone." The two go back inside, deciding to forget all about James' punishment.
  • Niall: "Shit." Niall cursed to himself when he opened up your six year old daughter Emily's room to find it empty and the window wide open. He had sent her to her room ten minutes ago after he found her eating a bowl of ice cream before dinner, even though she had been told multiple times not to. Niall had been having a rough day, having just got back from a small tour in America and being jet lagged, so when he discovered his daughter disobeying him, he let his temper get the best of him and scolded her rather loudly, causing the small girl to burst into tears and run into her room. Niall had calmed down a bit before going to Emily's room to talk to her, only to find her missing. His heart pounded in fear as he ran outside, frantically calling her name as he ran down the block. He reaches the end of the block and halfway through the next before he hears the familiar whimpers of his little girl. "Emmy," He says, his heartbeat slowing down when he sees her sitting against a tree, clutching her Hello Kitty book bag to her chest. She looks up at her father's voice, quickly running into his open arms, her tears creating a wet spot on his shirt. "'M sorry, daddy, I was gonna come back, promise, but I got lost and couldn't see home anymore," she mumbles, and Niall gently rubs her back, picking up her book bag as he starts to walk back to his house. "It's alright, Princess, I'm here. Daddy's got you," he whispers to her, "Don't you ever do that again, Emmy. I was so scared." Emily bring her head up to look at him, their identical eyes locking. "I'm sorry, daddy. I love you." Niall chuckles lightly, kissing her cheek as he responds. "I love you, too, Princess. Daddy's sorry for yellin' at ya earlier."
  • Zayn: You had passed away from cancer about a year earlier, leaving Zayn and fifteen year old Ally alone, and lately, the two have been distant and rude with each other, not quite knowing how to cope with their feelings without you there. So, when Zayn comes home from the studio one day to find the house empty and quiet, he doesn't think much of it, as Ally was often out with her friends or boyfriend, Hayden. However, when it got to be the next morning, and he still had not heard a word from his daughter, he began to panic, calling her cell multiple times only to get sent straight to voicemail. By lunch, he had gotten the police involved, filing a missing persons report, and he felt awful. This is his fault, if he had been closer to Ally and actually spent time with her then this wouldn't have happened. For the millionth time, he wished that you were here, because he was honest to God terrified and needed your comfort right now. Finally, at 10:08 PM, he got a call from an unknown number and picked up on the first ring. "Hello?" "...Daddy?" Relief courses through Zayn's veins at his daughters voice, although he is still slightly angry. "Ally, where the hell are you? I've the police looking--" he suddenly stops at the sound of Ally sobbing, and his anger quickly vanishes. "Ally, what's wrong? Where are you?" "Dad, I'm at some gas station next to the Super 8 motel a few towns over, you know? H-Hayden wanted me to run away with him because he told me it would help me deal with mum being gone and I said yes, because I'm tired of feeling like this, and you never comfort me anymore or anything, I felt like Hayden was the only one who cares about me." Zayn starts to interrupt, but Ally just continues. "B-but he doesn't, daddy, he brought me to this motel and tried to--tried to do stuff I didn't want to do, and when I refused, he got mad and hit me, and that's when I came here. I wanna come home, dad, I'm scared." Zayn's heart broke as he stood up and grabbed his keys, keeping his phone to his ear as he slips on his jacket. "It's alright, love, I'm on my way to get you right now. Does Hayden know you're there?" "I-I don't know, I don't think so, but he seemed pretty mad when I left, I'm scared he's gonna hurt me again, dad." Zayn's already in his car at this point, on his way to daughter. "Just stay on the phone with me, alright, Ally? I'll be there as soon as I can." His daughter hiccups on the other end, and Zayn continues talking to calm her down. "And for the record, I love you so so much Ally. I am so proud of everything you have done. I know I've been shit at showing it lately, but it's true, and I promise we'll fix our relationship. How about tomorrow, you and I go and see mum, yeah?"
  • Liam: "Dad, dad hurry up, it's almost starting!" Four year old Andrew said, tugging on Liam's pant leg. Liam doesn't look down at his son, too focused on his two month old daughter fussing in his arms. "Just a minute, Andy. Let me get your sister to sleep and then I'll be out to watch cartoons with you." Andy's face falls; Saturdays are usually Andy-Liam time, but ever since the baby came, he's had to learn to share you and Liam, an he wasn't used to it. "But Dad, Superman's already on TV!" This happens for ten more minutes before Liam finally gets frustrated with everything going on and snaps at the little boy. "I said in a minute, Andy! If you can't stay quiet until your sister gets to sleep then you won't be watching cartoons at all!" Andy's brown eyes fill with tears as he rushes out of the room, and Liam finally gets the baby to sleep a few minutes later. However, when he quietly closes her door and goes out to the living room, Andy is nowhere in sight-- and the front door is wide open. Liam's heart pounds as he rushes outside, contemplating what to do, not wanting to leave a tiny baby home alone, but still wanting to find his son. His eyes scan down the block, eventually spotting the small boy running down the sidewalk, towards the busy intersection. Liam sprints to catch up to him, shouting, "Andrew Joseph Payne! Do not take another step!" Andy freezes, his brown eyes widening. He's never been yelled at by his dad before. When Liam reaches him, he kneels to his level, a stern and angry expression on his face. "What were you thinking?! You know you're not supposed to leave the house without me or mummy, especially to cross the intersection!" Andy's bottom lip trembles , tears spilling down his cheeks. "D-daddy, you don't love me anymore. You forget about me all the time and you only love sissy now." Liam sighs, his expression softening as he brings the small boy into his arms. "Andy, you know that is not true at all. Sissy is just a little baby, she needs mine and mummy's help more than you right now. I love you so much, buddy." Andy wipes his eyes as Liam stands and begins making his way back home. "How much, daddy?" He asks, looking up at Liam hopefully. Liam laughs, moving Andy so he is sitting on his shoulders, just like he likes. "I love you to infinity and beyond, Andy."
  • Harry: The minute Harry steps through the front door after work, his fourteen year old daughter Paige rushes up to him, a frantic look on her face. "Dad, dad, I can't find Darcy anywhere, she's gone, I'm sorry-" An image of his four year old daughter Darcy pops up in his mind, worry creeping into his veins, but he knows he has to stay calm. "What do you mean, she's gone? What happened?" "Um, she was mad that I wouldn't play her princess game with her because I was right in the middle of putting Charlie down for his nap, and when I came out of his room, she was gone, I looked everywhere, even under all of the beds and in the cupboards." Harry sighs, closing his eyes as he rubs his temples, wondering why this had to happen on the one day Harry got home before you. "Alright, you stay here with Charlie and I'll go look outside," he tells Paige, and she nods, chewing her lip nervously. Harry turns around and exits the house, his mind working in overdrive. He tries to think of where he would go if he was an angry four year old, and it takes only a few minutes for Harry to figure out exactly where his daughter is. He makes his way over to the small, hidden fort he had built for Darcy a couple weeks and kneels down so he can knock lightly on the door. "Darc? You in there? It's daddy." A small sniffle is heard from inside before he door is swung open, a small body quickly flinging itself into Harry's arms. "Hiya, daddy!" Harry chuckles, kissing the top of her head before pulling back to look in her eyes. "Darc, you really scared Paige. She couldn't find you anywhere, she was very worried. Why didn't you tell her you were going to play out here?" Her tiny eyebrows furrow, a pout forming on her lips. "She told me not to bug her anymore or she'd tell Santa I was naughty." Harry laughed again, picking Darcy up as he stands and begins making his way back to the house. "Don't worry, Darc, Santa knows you were very good this year. Now, lets go apologize to your sister."
  • Preference Request are always welcome!(: