bride tip

Wedding Planning

1. Think of traditions as suggestions. There is no right or wrong, just what you want. Nothing bad will happen if you decide to not have a bouquet toss, favours or your standard wedding invitation. One of the things my partner and I have cut from our wedding is having a cake, we personally felt it just wasn’t for us and thought it better we save the money.

2. Email, email, email!
It certainly is annoying, but you may just save yourself a few hundred dollars by making sure to get a good variety of quotes from an array of businesses.

3. Once you have placed a deposit, do not keep looking.
So often people end up experiencing feelings of regret once they have officially locked in things like their wedding dress and venue, thinking maybe something better exists. The reality is there is a million gorgeous venues and dresses, but what you have chosen is just as fabulous! So, keep staring at what will be yours and let yourself fall more in love with it!

4. Don’t rush decisions!
This is something that I have done on more than one occasion while planning my wedding. Whist I haven’t made a decision I regret, I definitely did go through periods of anxiety at some points simply due to rushing myself as if my wedding needed to be planned within 24 hours. Take your time and try to enjoy the planning phase as much as you can.

5. Don’t let pressure from others get to you.
This one can sometimes be quite hard as some people can be really pushy. But, at the end of the day I see it as your day, your choice. You don’t HAVE to invite your cousin’s brother’s auntie’s sister if you don’t want to.

6. Make a list of what things (aside from your husband/wife and celebrant) are important to you to have on the day.
For me, it was my photographer and having a videographer, so I made sure to plan my budget around these things so that I didn’t miss out.

What are some wedding tips that you have? Feel free to share them by sending me a comment or message!

Charlotte xx

found a piece of paper in my pocket with a hand-written note that says 

“the trick to Princess Bride writing tone is - every character is extraordinarily polite to each other the entire movie - no one gets serious/emotional until it really counts, and then the contrast packs more punch”

I like how me getting older and watching Phantom of the Opera has now caused me to shift from just happily singing along with the songs to being all














(and so on for any of their interactions for the next 2 hours)

(my god and poor Raul having to be like 

Christine do u really think that is the ghost of your dead dad remember the bride wax statue Christine c’mon Christine like??????????)

Oh Christine Daae.

10 Cocktail-Length Wedding Dresses

Short is the new long

Your day, your dress. If you decide you want to go short for your big day, don’t fret. There are tons of options out there for beautiful wedding dresses that hit at the knee or above the knee. A great dress choice for a destination wedding or even a second dress for your reception, shorter dresses are less heavy, show off your shoes, and give you more freedom to dance all night long!

Here are 10 cocktail-length wedding dresses to add to your Pinterest wedding boards.

‘Katie’ Strappy Lace Sheath Dress

Georgia Bell Sleeve Lace Dress

Priscilla Lace Dress

Abs by Allen Schwartz Dress - Cap Sleeve Lace

Flowy Skirt Bandage Dress

Adrianna Papell Dress - Embellished Illusion Neck Ruched

Sleeveless Lace Wrap Dress

Chi Chi London Premium Lace Midi Prom Dress with Bardot Neck

Silk Gazar Dress with Trimmed Hem

One Shoulder Mini Dress

Shop for wedding dresses across 150 stores all in one place on Wantering. 

Life Pro Tip for friends invited to go wedding dress shopping: If you’re going with your supposed best friend to find her wedding dress, shut the fuck up with your shit opinions and let her give her opinion first because you might find that every spare moment she has with her stylist she’s about to collapse into tears because she’s loving how she looks and feels, and you’re being a cunt and no one wants to be near you.

Life Pro Tip for brides-to-be: Tell your judgemental ‘friend’ to shut the fuck up and find other friends.

Tip source: A bridal stylist appalled at how toxic a bride’s guest was this morning.

DAY 21: Shower/Bath

The Vatican sends him to a castle in Romania, far from anything he’s known. The woods are as dark and as deep as his recollection of his life before he became Van Helsing — unfathomable and unknowable. Just stretching deeper and darker the further he reaches into the abyss of empty memories. He’s come because someone requested him specifically. A man by the name of Vlad, the owner of the castle to be specific. He says he thinks his wife or wives is possessed or worse; and in his experience, that never boded well. He thinks one of them or more is the monster wreaking havoc on their village — the monster with the mismatched eyes and the unfathomable appetite.

He enters the castle calmly, more a friend than an investigator, on the request of the same man that brought him here. This Vlad — tall and broad and white of hair — is worried he’ll tip his bride(s) off if he comes in as anything other than a visiting friend from afar. So when he enters, he embraces this strange as he would a brother, if he had one, only…

His heart pangs the moment arms wrap around him. He loses himself strangely, if only for a moment, with his nose pressed against an oddly familiar shoulder. Something flickers, deep in his mind, like a candle not completely gutted, and it scares him more than any set of fangs he’s stared down his barrel. Hands at his shoulders draw them to arms length, and when Vlad looks down at him, he can’t help but shiver.

“How was the trip, my old friend?” He asks, and even to Van Helsing’s ears it doesn’t sound like a farce. He clears his throat and pulls away on the guise of grabbing his bag from the floor.

“Long, as expected, but smooth enough,” he says, but Vlad frowns, throwing him off step.

“You seem tired… I’ll have the servants draw you a bath. We can discuss business in the morning.”

He’s ushered away by servants that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, taking his bag (and thus his weapons) from him before he can even realize what’s happening — still off balance from the hug. They fuss over him, their faces so cheery its almost frightening. Pale and smiling, drawing his coat from his shoulders and half way through removing his vest before he can even think to stop them. They let him undress alone, but will not leave him. Eyes keen as though worried he will deny their lord’s gift. They don’t leave until he’s naked and shoulder deep in a large claw footed tub, in a room of sparkling candles and strange plants that smell lovely and take the edge from his mind.

He had forgotten what a warm bath felt like. To simply sit and soak. The Vatican does not offer such mortal kindnesses. A buckle and a sponge and a stool, that is what he’s used to. Not the clutch of a hot bath or the way it eased his aches. He finds his eyes heavy before he can even notice, slowly falling as he considers the strangeness of the night. His hands hang heavy on the hard plane of his belly, and warning bells are just begging to ring when he feels hands slide over his shoulders and begin to knead the knots from his neck.

He sucks in a sharp, confused breath, then lets out a low, shivering moan. It’s been so long since he was touched, he almost had forgotten he could be touched at all. What it felt like to be wanted. And the hands on him feel familiar. Like the echo of a whisper he once knew. He should draw away. He should reach for his gun, he should—

A heavy layer of calm falls upon him, and he thinks the trip must have drained him more than he thought because he’s sinking more into the water, his eyes nearly shut. Above him, Vlad smiles.

“It’s been so long,” he purrs softly as he massages him. “Do you remember when last we were like this? You always loved my touch, I’m glad your body has not forgotten me even if your heart did long ago.”

“Whaa-aah?” His eyes roll, his bones turning to jelly, and he’s made a mistake. Such a big mistake. Because the eyes above him are changing now, one brown eyes suddenly bleeding to blue to create a mismatched pair.

“They’re still working you so hard, as though you’re a mule to be ridden into the ground. So ungrateful. So cruel. How could they do that to you?” He asked, leaning in low to talk into Van Helsing’s ear as he asked, “How could you have picked them over me?”

The spell breaks and he scrambled out of the tub in a wave of scented water — only his legs are still rather useless. He squeaks against the tile as he collapses in a mess of kitten-weak limbs, eyes wide and chest heaving. He looks for a weapon, anything, but the door is closed and all he has are candles and plants, plants that smell even stronger now, and his fingers tremble weakly.

“What are you talking about?” He tries to snarl, but it comes out weak and worried, and he hates himself for it. “What have you done to me?”

“I’ve waited a long time for this moment, love,” Vlad says as he approaches him, kneeling theatrically to reach for him. “I wasn’t going to risk losing you again. The plants are…soothing. To humans. Couldn’t risk you running away. Or attacking me again.”

“Again?” Van Helsing croaks.

Vlad grins.

“Don’t worry. I’ll remind you of everything. I’ll remind you of who you were. Who we were. All in good time — we’ll soon have forever, after all. Isn’t that right? Percival.

What little strength he had coaxed into his bones flees him in a rush. He falls back onto the tiles, blind to the present as the past creeps up to haunt him. Lips and clawing fingers down his back and bed sheets. Hot breaths and heavy thrusts. Loved. In love. Killing that love.

His vision fills with tears even as he is gathered into steady arms. He doesn’t remember everything. He doesn’t remember much. He’s afraid and he’s confused and he’s got to get away — but he can’t.

“It’s okay, love, I’ve got you.” Vlad says into his hair. “You’ll remember me soon enough.”

And Percival—Van Helsing—can’t help but wonder who he really is, or rather, who he was before the name Dracula came to haunt the lands.

He finds out soon enough.

I Knew It Was Time To Put a Ring on It.

I grew up obsessed with the clickity-clack rhythmic sound of powerful women walking on marble floors. I longed to be one of them. You see, I never dreamt of myself as a someone’s bride. I never wanted to be anyone’s princess. Instead, I fantasized wearing lipstick, high heels, and carrying a briefcase with my initials on it. 

Basically, I dreamt of being a boss. 

This isn’t to say that a woman can’t be equal parts CEO and blushing bride. Because in this day and age, I believe girls have figured out how to have it ALL over a lifetime on her own terms.

Frankly, no woman should have to wait for someone to put a ring on it. We’ve been conditioned to believe that a diamond ring symbolizes true love. The diamond ring means that someone has chosen us. But shouldn’t women choose themselves first?

It’s time we start professing our love to our damn selves. Because life is hard. And we deserve all the rewards for handling the pressures that make diamonds day in and day out with grace.

So maybe it’s a diamond on your right hand. Maybe it’s a solo vacation. Or maybe just a glass of Prosecco. Treat yourself. Give yourself a daily reminder to keep on shining when the world feels heavy. Something that symbolizes “I can, I have, and I will do it”… whatever “it” is.

Someone someday may come along that makes life a little sweeter. This could be a lover, a friend, or whatever. But then again, maybe they won’t. Maybe you’ll be on your own for a while. And that’s ok. Our worth doesn’t depend on the validation or acceptance of anybody else. Because like Beyonce once sang, “I depend on me.”

So all the women who are independent (single or not), throw your hand up, and put a ring on it… if you want. 

Close up!
Reblog if you enjoyed your #MyBigPunjabiWeddingFix for the day :) xo

Flowers In Your Hair

Because I love the song this prompt was very fun for me to write cause I legit just listened to it on repeat. 

Happy nalu fluff week everyone!!

(also I had no time to edit this sorrrrrry)

“What’s that Lucy?” Natsu had been pointing to her hair, where a small daisy rested where her hair was pulled back with a pin.

“A flower! Momma gave it to me and said it would look pretty in my hair, do you think so?” Twirling the ends of her hair, 7-year-old Lucy stared at her pink haired best friend with curiosity. She always wondered if he thought she was pretty.

To her dismay though, he started to laugh so hard he bent over, clutching his stomach. “Wahaha, why would you put flowers in your hair? That’s so dumb.”

Frowning, and fighting off tears to the best she could, Lucy took the flower out of her hair and let it fall to the ground. She turned on her heel and headed back to her house with the sound of Natsu’s laughter lingering in her mind.

“I don’t know Levy. I mean, flowers? Really? Isn’t that kind of tacky?”

“What? No, since when is putting a flower in your hair tacky?” Levy asked her best friend/maid of honour. They were trying to figure out wedding details, since Levy was getting married to Gajeel in a few months. Currently, they were trying to figure out what the bridesmaids would wear. “I like flowers. They’re pretty. Didn’t your mom used to wear flowers in her hair all the time?” Come to think of it though, Levy had never once seen her friend wear a single flower in her hair, even though she had a lot of pictures of her mother with flowers. And Lucy idolized her mother.

Shrugging, Lucy waved it off. “Okay, then flowers are in.” She smiled at her friend, “anything you want Levy. This is your day, and you’re right, they aren’t tacky.”

“Uh, okay. So what about this colour?”

Lucy fiddled with the flower as she looked in the mirror. She wasn’t sure she liked it- did it look silly on her head? She couldn’t tell. No one else seemed to be having trouble with it, so she brushed off her insecurities and brushed out the wrinkles on her dress.

“Aw, you look beautiful Levy! Ahh, I might cry.” Hugging the bride, Lucy couldn’t help but think that the flower she was wearing made her even more radiant. Gajeel really was a lucky man.

“So do you Lu! And see, the flowers aren’t tacky, they’re perfect.” Levy hugged her back, excited and nervous and just needing her best friend. Pulling back, Levy gave her a huge grin, poking the flower in the blonde’s hair. “Flowers really do make you look so much more pretty you know. Just like your mom.”

A tear fell down Lucy cheek at her friend’s words. Maybe flowers weren’t so dumb after all.

It was a beautiful ceremony- and also extremely funny. Gajeel was a mess of emotions, which was probably the first time anyone could clearly see what he was thinking. He was so clearly in love with the short blue haired-girl it was ridiculous.

Everyone laughed when the minister asked if there were any objections. They were soul mates, and everyone knew it. Grinning, the old man simply carried on before it was finally time for bride and groom to kiss.

And oh boy, did they ever kiss.

They did the typical groom tipping the bride over while their lips met in a dance that only they knew-and quite frankly the crowed could have done without seeing that. Nevertheless, everyone cheer, jumping up in their seats, hoots and hollers of congratulations, with a few wolf whistles thrown in.

Lucy, for one, had tears streaming down her face out of joy for her friend. She was so utterly happy she couldn’t explain it. Her best friend married her soul mate and that was so precious to her- it was almost like a fairy tale.

As the tears slowed and the newlyweds exited the church, Lucy’s eyes softened as she spotted a pink haired man, cheering and patting Gajeel on the back. As she stared he turned around and spotted her, grinning wide and waving. She hoped that one day, she could get her happily ever after too.

“Hey Luce!” walking towards her, Lucy couldn’t help but admire how good Natsu looked in a tux. It only added fuel to the picture she was coming up with in her mind. Cheeks burning, she lightly shook her head. She knew that it was a slim chance of ever happening, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up. “Levy and metal head were pretty gross weren’t they? I mean, they didn’t need to use that much tongue.”

Lucy giggled and nodded, her hand moving to her hair to push a stray strand behind her ear. She felt the flower that was placed there, and suddenly feeling self conscious about it, she went to take it off.

“Hey, what are ya doin’?” reaching out and grabbing her arm, Natsu stopped her from taking the flower.

“Oh, uh, well I just don’t like wearing flowers in my hair so…” she averted her eyes, not able to look at him. She knew it was stupid, she did. She actually loved flowers, and they always made her think of her mother, which made her smile. But her mind always went back to that time when they were kids and he laughed at her for putting a flower in her hair. She knew-she really did- that he was just being a boy who thought everything was stupid. But she couldn’t help it. She loved him, she always did, and for some reason that one little stupid comment always floated in the back of her mind.

Maybe it was because she had been young and impressionable, or maybe while thinking about her mother made her smile, it also made her sad.

“Oh,” letting go of her arm, his dropped to his side. “Well, I think they make you look even more beautiful.”

And for some reason she was mad. Mad at him, mad at herself. Why did she ever listen to the words of a 7-year-old boy? Why did she even care what he thought? This wasn’t fair; the one thing she wanted to her from him-that she was beautiful- was ruined by her own insecurities and profound idiocy. Huffing, she ripped the flower from her hair and strode out of the church, new tears flowing from her eyes, but this time out of anger.

She ended up in the changing room she was in before the wedding. She was curled up in a corner, a mix of crying and laughing coming from her. She was worried she was going crazy- this was not a normal reaction for being called beautiful from the man you loved.

Slumping her head down on her knees, she tried to calm down by taking a few breaths.

After a few minutes, she was finally able to look at the crumbled flower that she gripped in her hand. It was a violet flower, delicate and beautiful until it was crushed and broken. She laughed at the thought, somehow comparing herself to this small flower. She wasn’t broke, only slightly cracked.

Wiping her eyes, she tossed the flower aside and leaned her head on the wall. She had to pull herself together. So she was self conscious about what she wore because of a guy? She could get over it. She could start wearing whatever the hell she wanted, and if he didn’t like it then that’s his loss. Smiling a little, Lucy stood up and grabbed a new flower from the table. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, ready to put her past behind her.

To see Natsu standing on the other side of the door, concern written all over his face.

“Are you okay? Did something happen? Oh frig, were you crying? Ah Lucy I’m sorry for what I did!” Dropping to the ground, Natsu bowed to her in utter panic, not sure what happened. Did girls always get like this when you complimented them? Or was it just because Lucy was a weirdo?

“I’m fine now Natsu, could you please stop?” even though there were no people around, she always got embarrassed when he did this. “I was just going through a little phase, but I’m good now. Promise!” giving him a smile, she stuck out a hand to help him get back up. He took it, cautiously. He was scared she might hit him or something, since he always found himself being hit somewhere by her.

He eyed her, not quite wanting to believe her, but letting it go. He still had trouble figuring her out most of the time, even after knowing her for so long.

His eyes drifted to her hair, and noticed that she put a new flower in. He wondered, briefly, if the thought of flowers made her sad. He wouldn’t blame her if that was why she never wore them.

But, to his utter dismay (because how could he ever live this down), he reached out and grazed the flower with his hand before moving down and gently cupping her cheek. “You really are beautiful Lucy, with or without the flower.”

And Lucy smiled, her eyes lighting up in that special way that made his heart skip. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of that smile.

unitedstatesradium-deactivated2  asked:

My villain is a mole on the hero team, but for some reason, whenever I try to reveal this, it comes off as Deus Ex Machina. They feel fully developed, but I know that I can't hint towards their true identity. So, how can I not hint at something, then reveal it, but notlook dumb in the eyes of the readers?

Hello there, reasonably-stressed writerly friend~ ♥︎

I totally understand where you are coming from. This is actually hand-in-hand with a few questions I got about writing Mystery novels. After all, how do you keep the twist a secret without making it come out of nowhere, and without foreshadowing it to all hell?

Before we begin, though— I don’t want to be the Word Czar, but I have to clarify your use of the term ‘Deus Ex Machina’ (I totally got what you meant, but I want to make this clear so that you and any writerly friends reading this understand what it means before using this term c:).

Deus Ex Machina is latin for: “God from The Machine.” It is a plot device in which a problem (or situation) that seemed unsolvable is abruptly solved via the introduction of a character, item, or element. This is considered a negative plot device because it makes the story feel as though the writer ran out of ideas to get their characters out of trouble. The origin of this term comes from Greek Plays, in which Gods would be dropped into the climax of a story to suddenly solve all the problems and bring about the happy ending.

A modern example of this would be the ‘battle of wits’ scene from The Princess Bride, in which Westley gambles for the princess via making Vizzini choose one of two cups (one of which presumably has poison in it), meaning that one of the two men will die based on the choice. Of course, Westley has poisoned both cups, and Vizzini dies regardless of his choice— except Westley reveals that he had an immunity he NEVER been mentioned, to a poison that had only been introduced MINUTES prior.

How convenient…

Let me clarify that I love The Princess Bride, it’s one of my favorite movies. I love it. I really do. And I get that the twist was kind of the point of that scene. But still. How convenient that a problem that seemed impossible to overcome was solved by something we could not have EVER seen coming :p

So, now that the daily writing language lesson is out of the way… let’s tackle your question~ ♥︎

How do I make sure the twist in my story is effective? How do I make sure it’s not absolutely unexpected, without telegraphing my intentions?

The secret to a great twist is not in writing the story…

It’s in the revision.

Seriously. Do you honestly think that writers come up with the perfect plot twist on the first draft? Of course not! This is especially true for Mystery novels, in which (more often than not) the writer themselves does not know who the culprit is until the very end.

The trick here is to first write the story. Get it out on the page. Then let it sit for a while, and when you come back to it revise it, revise it, revise it, and the revise it some more. I can tell you from personal experience that once you have completed a book, and stepped aside for a few weeks, when you come back you will be able to look at the story as a whole. You will be able to spot the threads where you made mistakes— and you will be able to find the perfect places to sprinkle a few clues here and there.

In your situation, try not to worry about how it ‘sounds’ right now. Just get it on the page. You have the entire revision process to iron out the details, to add elements that show this character as a mole and to leave hints for your reader!

In case you are wondering, of course I have advice for revision. I actually have a post about my Top 5 Tips for Revision. I think they will be perfect for when you’re ready to start polishing up this story.

I hope this helps! I know that not everyone likes to be told to ‘keep writing and fix it later’ but that is seriously the way to go here. You can’t write a plot twist (or a mystery novel) you have to revise them~ ♥︎

If you (or any of the writerly friends reading this) have any more questions, make sure to send them my way!

Keep Writing~

She should be relieved. The wedding went without a hitch, Mrs. Khouri had the planning down to the tee, and it was most definitely the event of the century. The bride had been shoved so many different ways within the night, to say hi to this person, hug another when they vocalize their congrats, and to possibly give them a kiss on the cheek for their prescence. Jezebelle felt like it wasn’t really her getting married, like it was an out of body experiece or something. The ceremony was a blur, mainly because they kept it short, but she could clearly remember Rory’s face when he first saw her. She was at least satisfied that her now husband was kind and easy to get along with. It made her heart flutter when she saw his face light up at the sight of her.

She was holding dearly onto that memory of Rory’s face, because that was the only thing getting her through the night. All she wanted was for this to be over, for the eyes to be off of her, and for Rory and her to attempt to have some sort of relationship. Despite being newlyweds, Jezebelle felt like she had barely seen Rory, only sharing their first dance and cutting the cake together. The guests were far too intrusive towards her, all of them a little drunk and wanting to chat with the bride and give her ‘tips’ on married life. Her cheeks still burned from the nudges she had been receiving from her mother, of all people, to poke fun at the impending wedding night.

All she could hope for was comfort. She just wanted to relax, and actually spend time with her husband, because that did not happen during the after party. She was only nineteen, but she was allowed a glass or two of champagne–she was the bride afterall. Jez sat on the edge of the bed, wearing a silk robe. Her dress was absolutely stunning, but she was so happy to be out of it. The thing weighed about fifty pounds, so now without it, she felt light as air.

Hearing the door open to their suite, Jez perked up, smiling with giddiness. Sure, she didn’t pick who she married, but she was, and those newlywed butterflies did not dissappear. “Hi!” she exclaimed, overwhelmed when she actually was face to face with him. He still looked handsome, even with his suit jacket off. Pressing her lips to his, Jez just took full liberty of the affection they should show. “Did you have fun?” she asked, the glasses of champagne definitely making her more vocal and touchy.

5SOS Preference #17 :: "Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace"


You stood at the altar, underneath hanging baskets of roses and various assortments of flowers. This was finally it. You were being wed to the love of your life that very day. You looked at your fiance, soon to be husband, and smiled tentatively. He smiled back at you, giving you a slight wink. “If anyone has any reason these two should not be wed, please speak now or forever hold your peace,” There was silence for a few seconds, and you smiled a bit wider, when someone in the front pew stood up. “I can’t do this,” a familiar voice said. “I’m in love with you, (y/n). I have been even before you started dating (y/f/n). And, you know, if you don’t love me, that’s fine, but I don’t think you should marry him, because he’s not the right guy for you. I’m not going to say I am, because I’m not that self-centered, but I think you’re making an awful decision, and I’m not going to just sit here and watch you get married at 20 years old, okay?” He said. You flushed a deep red and looked over at your fiancé. “I-I’m sorry…” You said. “No…” your fiancé said, seemingly lost in thought. “He’s right… getting married at 20? What the hell were we thinking?” His eyes widened. “I’m sorry, (y/n), I think we’ve got to wait.” Your mouth dropped open as you watched him walk away, Michael not far in front of him.


“…speak now or forever hold your peace.” The preacher said, looking around the room. You looked at your fiancé, who you met two years ago when your were shopping for his band’s merchandise. He smiled back at you, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “I love you, Ashton,” you mouthed. “I love you, too,” he mouthed back, but his eyes lacked the affection you expected. “Very well…” the preacher started. “Wait,” Calum said, stepping out from behind Ashton, where best men usually stood, and in between the two of you. “I have something I have to get off of my chest before you two are officially wed.” He said, swallowing deeply. “I-I think I’m in love with (y/n).” He said, eyes wide. You were paralyzed in shock, unable to think straight or move at all. He looked over at you, apologies written all over his face. “I know the timing’s bad, but I can’t stand the thought of being in love with my best friend’s wife.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Oh my God…” you muttered. “I can’t do this…” You said, backing away from the altar. “I-I’m sorry, Ash.” You turned and ran as far away from the church as you possibly could.


Ashton sent you a wink, making you giggle. “Stop it,” you whispered, although you didn’t really mean it. He poked your side with his finger, and you were hardly able to contain your laughter. “And now, if anyone should have a reason that these two should not be happily wed, please speak now, or forever hold your peace.” “No one better say anything…” You heard Ashton’s little brother, Harry, mutter, making the two of you giggle. For some reason, you were expecting someone to oppose. The boys gave you a thumbs up from behind Ashton, and your maid of honor gave you an encouraging nudge. “Very well, you may kiss the bride,” Ashton beamed, wrapping an arm around your waist, dipping you and kissing you rather passionately for a wedding. After all, there were children around. You felt his laughter rumble against your lips, and your could no longer contain yours. He rested his forehead against yours. “I love you, Mrs. (Y/n) Irwin,” He whispered, standing you upright. “I love you, too, Mr. Ashton Irwin.”


You were sitting in the front at one of your best friend’s weddings. You looked over at Ashton, Calum, and Michael, who all looked exceptionally handsome in their tuxedos. Your gaze then unwillingly drifted to Luke, who was looking at his bride-to-be lovingly. You felt a lump in your throat and tried to swallow it. You felt Liz’s hand on yours and immediately felt better. She knew how you felt. It really wasn’t a secret, but somehow Luke never figured it out, and someone better came his way. His fiance was extremely beautiful, with long, dark hair and bright green eyes. She looked like something off of a magazine cover. She made you feel exceptionally ordinary. “…speak now, or forever hold your peace…” You heard the words being spoken and drew in a breath. You had to do this. You stood up, legs shaking, and all heads turned to look at you. “L-luke I-I…” you stuttered, looking at the boys for support. “Y-you can’t get married to her. You can’t get married because I’m in love with you and I can’t stop thinking about you and if you get married I’ll never find anyone as good as you, and you’ll already be taken and…” you trailed off, knowing your argument wasn’t a very compelling one. You sighed, turning around, ready to leave. When Luke didn’t say anything, you left the church. The boys burst through the door shortly after you. “(Y/n), that was brilliant! You finally did it! The timing was bloody awful, but you changed his mind,” Calum grinned, and you perked up. “I did what?” “Luke Hemmings is now single, and probably looking for the girl that single-handedly ruined his wedding. So… go talk to him. And you might want to avoid anyone in association with the bride. Just a friendly tip.” Ashton smiled, shoving you away encouragingly. Unable to contain a small smile, you left the room, looking for the blonde-haired boy you had fallen in love with.

A/N :: Sorry Luke’s was so long… I got carried away :3