plane back to australia


Slowly working my way back from Australia. Last night on the plane I stayed up and watched Matrix Revolutions, and I cried, but it wasn’t Matrix Revolutions that made me cry. I really do think that you are better than me, and I wish that it were easier.
I think I always get emotional on long flights. Someone opened a shade and the sun was already out.

Awaiting Verdicts - (Jason Bull x reader)

A/N: A week later than I anticipated, because I somehow seem to have developed a life. I wrote most of this on the plane back from Australia and was extremely sleep deprived at the time, so considering that, I’m actually quite happy that most of it made sense. It has been heavily edited since then though, so it should all make sense! Enjoy! 

Summary: Imagine working incredibly hard on a particular court case and getting a not guilty verdict for the client and celebrating a little enthusiastically and kissing Bull. 

Originally posted by kissooff

(Not my gif, all credit to the creator.)

“Madam Foreperson, has the jury reached a verdict?”

“Yes, your honour. On the charge of murder in the first degree, we, the jury, find the defendant…”

This was it. The moment you’d all been waiting for, for weeks. The courtroom was immensely quiet as everyone collectively held their breath as you waited for the outcome. You, Bull and the team had spent more hours on this case than any other you could remember, determined to get the right verdict for your young client. 

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Once a Frat Boy, Always a Frat Boy. | Calum Hood - Part 7.

Summary: In which a new student, (Y/N), finds herself becoming the toy to popular frat boy Calum Hood. The only problem is that (Y/N) was warned about Calum her first day on campus, and Calum just so happens to be dating (Y/N)’s best friend, Callie Mitchell. She hates him. She hates him more than she’s hated anyone ever before; however, she can’t help the growing feeling inside of her stomach after she finds out some very interesting things about Calum that no one had ever known before.

Rating: PG

Pairing: Callie/Calum (break up)

Requested?: Yes, a few times. I’m so glad some readers are taking interest!

A/N: This is a Calum chapter! The reader will barely be mentioned, but it is all in good taste, I promise.

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lclrgsl  asked:

shit i just realized you actually wanted a prompt from the list. So of course: “Surprise! I’m your Christmas present.”

And He Smiles

AN: NOLA but with none of the vampire/hybrid reproduction-related canon stuff. Also, I know this prompt kind of screams for smut but I decided to go with Christmas cheer.

So this is for both Luce @lclrgsl and Paula @howeverlongs,  I hope you will feel better soon, my darlings 💕

It’s goddamn impossible for vampires to get a headache - and even more impossible for the Original Hybrid - and yet Rebekah and Kol’s bickering over the Christmas decorations is nearly causing Klaus one.

Why his siblings insist on keeping up with those pesky human traditions is beyond him. If the point is to annoy him into murder, they’ve succeeded - the thought crosses Klaus’ mind, tugging a corner of his mouth into a half smirk as Kol’s lifeless body hits the floor.

One Santa Claus joke is one too much, brother.

“Really, Niklaus - “ Elijah steps into the living room ready to lecture him while Rebekah’s too busy decorating the tree with blood-flavoured candy canes to notice or care about Kol’s snapped neck. Before his older brother can finish the sentence, a doorbell resounds across their mansion and gives Klaus an excuse (not that he really needs one) to flee from the talk about manners and holiday spirit he’d probably be given otherwise.

It’s only halfway to the door - and he blames those horrible scented candles Rebekah’s insisted on lighting - when he catches the scent.

Honey, tangerines and a hint of spice.

Her scent.

And despite already knowing who’ll be there, there’s still a breath he has to catch when he opens the door. Because the difference is there, between the knowing and the seeing, and what he sees makes his heart pump the stolen blood in his veins faster and faster.

She’s here and as beautiful as ever.

And there’s a giant suitcase by her side, a neat red bow adorning the top of it.

“Hello, Klaus,” Caroline drawls, her blonde curls bouncing as she shifts her weight from one leg to the other, the only sign that gives away she’s a little nervous. “Surprise,” she goes on when his eyes dart to the suitcase questioningly, “I’m your Christmas present.”

“Elaborate, sweetheart.” His tone is tense when it should be happy but why should he get his hopes up when this just seems too good to be true?

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Her words set a weight on his chest. “I’m not here to be your last love or move in with you, I am not ready for that and to be honest, I don’t think you’re either. But there’s a new year coming in just a few days and I’ve decided I’m done with my hometown drama so here’s your actual Christmas present that’s also a present for me,” she rambles, handing him an envelope.

Swiftly, he opens it and can’t hold back a chuckle at the two plane tickets to Australia inside.

“I want something warm for now. Figured Rome, Paris and Tokyo can wait a few months?”

“Indeed,” he nods. “So you plan for this trip to be a longer one?”

Caroline bites on her lower lip, recognizes the question for what it really is.

Is there a chance you will stay with me?

The moment is charged and air sizzles between them when their eyes meet over that fucking large suitcase.

“I don’t know,” she finally says, the words etched in the raw honesty of her voice. “For now all I can say is - show me world, Klaus. What do you say? In or out?”

For a quick second, he wants to say no, to say it’s all or nothing for him - because it is with her. But he’s the Original Hybrid and there are plan games to think of and opportunities to take and here she is, this little blonde vampire that’s so much more than that and she’s practically throwing him a gauntlet.

Show me the world. Show me that I can trust you. Show me yourself.

So he’s letting the only word he can past his lips.

“In,” he says. And he smiles.

Michael- morning sickness at 30,000 feet


word count- 800+

rating- one bad word but its mostly just fluffy 

a/n- hope people like this one as much as Luke’s version..quick edit so ignore mistakes  


you were sitting at the gate waiting to board a plane. today you were with the boys flying back to Australia for the Aria awards. flying from California  to Sydney wasn’t going to be took a whole day to get there and you were not excited. 

sure you were excited to be in Australia but you were wishing you could drug yourself so you would just wake up once you got there. its not that you were scared of flying…it just that you are 5 weeks pregnant.  

after a missed period and some stomach pains you and Michael discovered you were pregnant recently. you had yet to tell anyone because you wanted to wait a little longer since the pregnancy was only a few weeks in.  

the morning sickness was bad…so much worse then you would have expected. the worst part was that you seemed to be very sensitive to motion. every time you got in a car you would immediately feel ill and that’s why the idea of flying was making you worried. 

soon they called for you guys to board the plane in first class. the seats were comfortable and you soon found yourself with you head on Michael’s lap as you drifted off to sleep.

a few hours in you were starting to feel the familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. you kept moving around in your seat and Michael could tell something wasn’t right.

“are you okay?” he asked as he rubbed his hand up and down your thigh.

“just not feeling very good” you tell him with your eyes squeezed shut trying to push the feeling away.

“do you think you are going to be sick?” he asked now leaning out of his seat worried about you

“i don’t know..I’m sure i will be fine” you tell him lying because you didn’t like worrying your boyfriend. 

after a few minuets your grip on his hand tightened and his eyes shot open to see you quickly unbuckling your seat belt and running to the nearby bathroom. he jumped up and followed you in to the very tiny bathroom. 

as your stomach was emptying into the gross airplane toilet Michael was holding your hair with one hand while the other was rubbing your back to sooth you. once you felt that you were done he helped you stand up. 

you quickly turned on the sink and cupped some water into your mouth in hopes of getting rid of the taste of what just happened. 

Michael put the seat down and set down pulling you on to his lap. you were sitting on him with your head leaning on his shoulder. a few tears slipped out of your eyes. you hated feeling sick all the time.

“I’m sorry” he tells you 

“about what?” you ask confused

“getting you pregnant..its my fault you are always sick…and i hate seeing you like this”

“hey..don’t say that” you said turning yourself around so you were kind of straddling him..but because of the restricted space it was difficult. 

“its not your takes two people to make a baby…and i don’t remember telling you to stop any of the times we have been having sex” you said with a small laugh and he smiled 

“true…but i still feel bad you have to go through all this… and i don’t have to do or feel anything” he tells you

“oh yes..the joy of being a woman” you say sarcastically

“come here” he says as he kisses you. you kiss him back as your hands run through his red hair. 

“i love you baby” he says kissing you “and you baby” he said rubbing his hand on your still flat stomach.

you smile and tell him you love him but your kiss was soon interrupted. 

“excuse me! please return to your seats” you hear coming from the other side of the door. you both share a face of shock knowing that you had been caught. you smile and kiss him again before walking out of the bathroom. 

when you open the door you get a dirty look from the flight attendant but you tried to ignore it as you walked to your seats

“look who is back”…“hows the mile high club?”… “that didn’t take very long michael” were some of the things you heard from the boys as you took your seat. 

“ignore those fuckers” he says to you as he gives all 3 boys the middle finger. you sit down and rest your head on Michael as he quietly sings to you till you are able to drift off to sleep for a while longer. 


Niall hated being away from you, especially on your birthday. Once the first leg of the OTRA tour finished, instead of going back to London, he boarded a plane to Australia. He was so proud of his girl being a student teacher half way across the world. Niall organised with your host family to surprise you. He arrived early in the morning and sneaked into your bedroom.

Happy BIrthday Sarah completely-in-de-niall - Bianca

Let go or hold on (Part 3)

(In case you missed it, here’s Part 2)

(His P.O.V.)

The past night was a blur. 

He remembers missing her so much.

He remembers seeing her cheesy smile lighting up the screen.

He even remembers the boys snarky comments about how gross they were. 

He was annoyed, ready to tell them to fuck off, but she wasn’t. She merely laughed, which made him soften and laugh with her. She was so infectious, with the way her hair fell slightly past her golden eyes, the way her laugh filled the room. He wanted more than anything to just reach out and touch her. The computer screen just wasn’t enough. But, for that short 30 minutes, everything wasn’t so bad. 

Then, she said goodbye, and everything felt dull again.

She always said goodbyes never hurt her but he couldn’t say the same. Whether she realized it or not, she was his everything.

She kept him grounded.

She kept him sane when things got rough with the fans.

She even kept him focused when the snapchat leaked.

The band keeps him going, but she kept him alive. 

He remembers the boys going on and on about some new club. He really wasn’t interested, but if he stayed at the hotel while they went out, he knew he would completely lose his mind missing her. 

So he agreed. 

Agreed to go out in public. 

Agreed to fake a smile when fans came around. 

Agreed to pretend like he had it all together. 

Following the rest of his band into the club, he noticed it was packed with a mass of sweaty bodies, something he realized he didn’t want to be a part of. As he was ready to tell the boys he wanted to head back to the hotel, he was stopped short when a guy came forward with a round of shots. Thinking one shot wouldn’t hurt, he quickly downed it, feeling a little at ease. 

Then another round came by. The next thing he knew, he had taken so many, that everything was starting to feel fuzzy. 

But he didn’t mind. 

The more he knocked back, the easier it was to let lose. 

The last thing he remembers from that night is a girl coming towards him. She had the same wavy black hair, same crooked smile and the same soft hands as her. He was so sure she was the one. Completely positive she managed to come through his computer screen, just to see him. He let her make him feel like all was right.

Then everything went black.

He woke up the next morning with a groan. Someone was pounding on his door, matching the pounding sensation going on in his head. 

Blinking hard, he shifted, feeling something warm pass his leg. Jolting up, causing another groan from his uneasiness, he noticed a girl laying next to him, face down, half covered with the white sheets.

He smiled when he saw her wavy hair, ready to touch her and wake her but then felt his heart stop when he saw a tattoo on her left shoulder. 

She didn’t have a tattoo.

Feeling last night’s alcohol rushing up his throat, he bolted to the bathroom, letting everything out.

What had he done? 

Looking at himself in the mirror, he didn’t recognize the reflection in front of him. It was like he was staring at a stranger. 

A stranger who broke a promise to always be faithful. 

A stranger who shattered his own world.

After wrapping a towel around his waist, he stepped out of the bathroom and stared at the sleeping girl before him.

He had been so wrong. 

She was nothing like her. 

Her hair was dull, face pale, lips chapped. She was nothing like his world. 

How could he have been so wrong?

Snapping out of his disbelief, he walked over to the door to face the one pounding.

In front of his was his best friend. Blonde hair disheveled, blue eyes blood shoot and worried. He pushed past him into his room, swearing under his breath when he caught sight of the girl. Turning around, he looked back with complete guilt filling his eyes.

“Have you been on twitter at all today?” He asked.

“Mate, i just woke up. The last thing on my mind is to check twitter. I obviously have bigger problems” The brown haired boy said while nodding his head towards the bed.

“I understand that but as of right now, you’re going to want to check Twitter. It’ll be your best bet of preparing for the worse.”

His best friend gave him one last sad look and made his way out the door.

Confused, the boy walked over to the nightstand and picked up his phone, sitting on the bed. He felt the mystery girl stir next to him but it didn’t matter anymore. All he was concerned about was the pictures flooding before him.

So many pictures. 

All making it seem like she was his new world. 

All making it seem like his real world was nothing but a distant memory.

Feeling the night rising back up in his throat again, he ran to the restroom, ignoring the calls of the girl, newly awaken in his bed.

Everything that happened after his bathroom visit was a blur.

Despite her protests, his band members managed to get the girl out of the room. His only concern was talking to his love. Getting her to listen. 

But she wouldn’t answer.

She wouldn’t answer his calls, his bandmates calls, not even her friends. 

He had broken her. 

He already knew it. 

He didn’t even need to hear her voice to know she wouldn’t be the same girl he said goodbye to not even 8 hours before.

Now, 20 minutes later, he was boarding a plane back to Australia. He would be missing a show, but the boys understood. They knew how much he needed her. The fans probably wouldn’t understand, but one day they would.

Sitting on the plane, he felt numb. He had to fix this. No matter what happened, he would fix this. There was nothing that could stop him.

But what would he say?

There was a gnawing sensation growing in his stomach, making him scared. She had no reason to hear him out. He had broken his promise to her. He knew she could do so much better than him. Someone who was always there for her, not 5,241 miles away. Someone who could always be there to hold her, not make her smile through a computer screen. 

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the doubts. 

He wasn’t going to give up.

He had 16 hours to figure out what he was going to say to her. 

Even if reality wasn’t ready to face him, he was ready to face it.

At least he hoped he was.


Part 4

Wistful falls  -

Hey! I’m Casi and I’m an amateur photographer who travels. I post nature, landscapes, macro & cities but I also do experimental shots from time to time. Right now I’m back home in Australia just waiting for my next plane ride to Canada. After photographing Canada for 6 months I’ll be off to South America then to Europe.

I’ve just started my blog up and I’d love some exposure as I dream to one day be professional. 

Preference #4 - "What Are You Doing Here?"

As you stepped off the plane and made your way through baggage claim and customs, you looked for the sign with your name on it. Eventually you found a man holding up a sign that said “Y/fn Y/ln” and when you got to him you recognized him as one of 5 Seconds of Summer’s security guards. He led you outside, where a black SUV was parked. You hopped into the back seat, where Calum was sitting on his phone looking bored. “Y/n!” He looked up when you entered and you pulled him into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!” You told your boyfriend’s band mate. You were surprising Ashton for his birthday in England, where they were currently touring. He had no idea you were coming. You had asked for Calum’s help on getting you into the venue where they were performing. You thanked Calum once you got there, but then went to find a place to hide. You snuck backstage to watch part of the gig, but returned to the coat closet you were hiding in before it was over. You sat looking at your phone, because you knew you could expect Ashton’s nightly post-show phone call any minute now. As your phone began to ring, you answered. “Hello?” “Y/n!” Ashton’s still-excited-from-performing voice greeted you. You could hear the excited voices of the other boys. “How was the show?” You asked him and stepped out of the coat closet into the hallway outside the boys’ dressing room. “Oh my god, it was great!” He shouted over the raucous noise in the room. “What? I can’t hear you,” you lied. “Hold, on let me step into the hall—” the dressing room door opened, and you looked at Ashton with a huge grin on your face. He shoved his phone in his pocket as quickly as possible and ran over to you, pulling you into a giant bear hug. “I missed you,” you said softly. “I missed you too, so much,” he said, attaching his lips to yours. After a few minutes, he pulled away and asked. “Wait, what are you doing here?“ "Happy birthday!” You squealed as he pulled you into another tight embrace. “Best birthday present ever.”

You were interning at Capitol Records over the summer, and you were having the time of your life. You had been assisting one of the major producers at the label. Even though you mostly just sat in on meetings and got him coffee, it was worth it. Moving to America was a big step for you, but you were happy to move away from all the drama in your life back in Australia. Today, you were busy filing some papers when your boss walked in. “Good morning, y/n. I’ll need you in the conference room in 15 minutes. We have a potential client coming in,” you nodded and finished up your filing before heading towards the conference room. You still had about five minutes, so you were surprised to hear voices already coming out from the room. You walked in to see what the noise was about, and your heart froze. You cleared your throat awkwardly and tried to avoid eye contact with the black-haired boy joking and laughing with his friends. “Can-can I get you boys anything?” You asked, turning slightly and hoping he wouldn’t recognize you. “No, I think we’re fine, thank — y/n?” Ashton asked. Calum’s head snapped up at the mention of your name and you gulped as you made eye contact with your ex-boyfriend. “What are you doing here?“He looked just as shocked as you, but you didn’t have time to say anything before your boss walked in. "Great, you’re all here. Let’s begin,” he said. You sat and took notes throughout the meeting, trying very hard not to brush your arm against Calum’s, as his mates thought it would be a good idea to make him sit next to you. You failed though, and every time you felt his skin on yours you shuddered at the intensity and felt a pang in your heart. After the meeting was over, you tried clearing your stuff up as quickly as possible. “Can we talk? Please?” Calum asked, not waiting for an answer as he pulled you into a secluded corner of the office building. He cupped your face with his hands and pressed his mouth to yours. You gasped, but didn’t pull away for a few minutes. “I’ve been wanting to do that since that morning I woke up and you were just…gone.” He told you and your heart broke. “I had to leave, I’m so sorry,” you couldn’t look away from his sad eyes no matter how much you wanted to. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were moving to America? We could’ve made it work!” He protested. “No we couldn’t have, Calum. You were in Australia and I was here. Different hemispheres,” you reminded him. “We can make it work now,” he suggested. “You’re probably getting on a plane back to Australia in a few hours, it won’t work,” you sighed. “Actually, now that we have our record deal here, we’ll be in LA writing songs for a few months. And the first thing I’d like to do is take you out for dinner,” You smiled and shook your head at yourself. “Okay.” You said, and he smiled the biggest smile you’d ever seen.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you fumbled around for the key to yours and Luke’s flat. You set the grocery bags down on the counter and called out “Luke?” to no reply. You trudged up the stairs, from where you could hear a whispered argument. “Shit, just…go out the window, I don’t know,” you heard Luke’s hushed voice say followed by the sound of a zipper, and your heart plummeted to your stomach. This couldn’t be happening again. “Luke, I am not jumping out of the window,” a female voice that you had grown to hate responded. “What are you doing here?“ you asked in a monotone voice, stepping into the bedroom, as the too-familiar girl finished buttoning up her blouse. "Actually, don’t answer that. I know what you were doing here. Fuck you, Luke,” you said numbly and turned slowly out of the room. You kept waiting for the tears, but they wouldn’t come. “Y/n, wait, nothing happened, I swear!” Luke’s voice followed you. He caught up to you and put a hand on your shoulder, turning you around. “It would’ve happened if I hadn’t come home when I did,” you replied dryly, shaking his hand off you. Luke looked at you and gulped, frightened. “Why aren’t you mad?” He asked quietly, acknowledging his mistake as the brunette relationship-ruiner left through the front door. “Oh, I am. So fucking mad. But I’m also done. This shouldn’t have happened again, Luke. You said you would never do it again. And I know it’s happened way more than the two times I’ve caught you,” you said, disappointment seeping through every pore in your body. “Y/n! I’m so sorry, I love you so much. I’m so, so sorry. It won’t happen again,” the last of your walls tumbled down as the all-too-familiar phrase dropped from his lips. “Damn right it won’t!” You said, slamming your fist down on the granite countertop where the innocent groceries still sat, then wincing in pain. “It won’t happen again, because I’m never coming home to you fucking another girl again! I’m never coming home to you at all ever again!” A hot tear finally escaped from your eye. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but you stopped him. “No, Luke. No. I’m leaving. I’ll be back to get my stuff later. Just…don’t.” You brushed past him, wiping the few tears from your face with the back of your hand, and into the hall — into a future without him and the pain he had repeatedly caused you.

You raised the microphone stand up to your proper height and said into it, “Check 1, 2, 3. Check 1, 2.” When the sound man was satisfied, he gave you a thumbs up. You went backstage and began tuning your guitar as the crowd filed in. You were so excited. This was the first gig you had booked outside of your home town and you couldn’t wait. You heard excited voices in the audience and that alone was enough to put millions of butterflies in your stomach. You pulled out your phone to text your boyfriend, Michael. About to go onstage. So nervous I’m about to pee myself. I wish I was kidding. you pressed send, and began pacing backstage. There were a few crew members working out last minute details with the sound and lighting, and you tried to stay out of their way. Your phone dinged with a reply from Michael. Don’t be worried. You look hot ;) “How would he…” You began to wonder out loud, before you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist. You turned around, face to face with your currently green-haired boyfriend. “Michael! What are you doing here?!” you squealed with excitement. “Surprise! You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, babe.” You grinned as you felt all your nerves slip away.“Five minutes until you’re on, y/n,” the stage manager said as she hurried past you. “Guess I better go find my seat,” Michael said as he pecked your lips. “We still have five minutes,” you reminded him, pulling his head back down and reattaching your lips to his. When it felt like only seconds had passed, you heard the stage manager call out, “Thirty seconds!” “Walk me to the stage?” You asked, grabbing Michael’s hand after picking up your guitar. “Of course,” he obliged. Once you were standing in the wings, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and said, “Good luck, beautiful. You’re gonna kill it,” before scurrying off to his seat. You heard your band starting the first few bars of the first song you were playing and ran onstage, your previous nerves completely forgotten.

A/N: Oh my god, Luke girls. I am so sorry. I actually cried a little writing that. Also sorry, I got a little carried away with Cal’s. I never really mean to make a particular boy’s longer or shorter than the others, it just kind of happens. So if it seems like your fave’s is always longer or shorter, it’s completely by chance. I just kind of take the inspiration and run with it. Please reblog this if you liked it! Anyways, it would absolutely make my day if you told me how you’re liking my preferences. Also, requests for imagines are now open!

Tattooed Heart: The One With All the Toast.


Frowns were rare. Especially when he had fallen asleep in his own home after a grueling few months on tour.  Especially when she had been cuddled up next to him, her back nestled against her chest, her body heat transferring to his skin and making him infinitely warmer underneath the piles of covers, as they instinctively entangled their limbs together.  Especially when he had felt her pull at his arm, dragging his hand until his fingers tucked underneath her side and hugging her closer, a content smile tugging at his lips as he drifted off.  And especially when he woke up to her fluttering eyes, their gazes connecting through the bleary sleepy haze that only lasted a few seconds before their vision focused, his heart tumbling in his chest every time he could properly see the lines of her face and the way that her lips curled into a weak smile as she buried herself into the pillow, still shy underneath his stare.

But this morning, as he reached for the spot beside him, he could only feel the cold of the exposed sheets underneath his touch instead of the warmth of her skin, his fingers failing to trail along the dip of her hip.  His picked his head up, a low grumble rumbling through his throat as he found the sheets mangled into a pile of knots at the foot of her bed before falling face first into the pillow.

December had felt like a lifetime ago, his holiday hiatus almost a blur in between the chaos of the few short weeks of US promotional tour appearances.  No sooner than they had peeled themselves away from Louis’ annual combination birthday and New Year’s Eve extravagant bash - their bodies almost like jello as they tried to crawl their way up the stairs, every ounce of energy drained from their muscles - had he been required to trade the warmth of covers for a few days in the sunny Californian weather. Spending a few calculated twenty/thirty minute intervals with the likes of Jimmy Kimmel and Ellen, answering questions the band had answered a million times over with a giant smile regardless before heading to the opposite coast and repeating the same process only with Hoda Kotb and Carson Daley.  And after spending a few days weaving his way in between the New York City tourists and crowds, he had only been able to cuddle back underneath the covers of his own bed for two nights before they were back on a plane to Australia for the first leg of their latest tour.

His body was sore, his bones cracking as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.  His hands coming up to rub the sleep away from his eyes before he pushed himself up.  Fumbling his way around the room until he at least slipped on a pair of pants before he conquered the steps.  As soon as he opened the French styled doors of their bedroom, he could hear the faint sounds of whatever early morning talk show she had left on, the infomercials from the night hours waning as the sun began to rise just overtop of the trees that shielded their house.

He found her on the couch for the second night in a row, a soft sigh slipping from his tired lips.  Her body curled into a tight ball, piles of blankets layered on top of her, he could faintly see the outline of her kneecaps as they settled just underneath her chin.  A line of crumbs extending from the edge of the paper plate that rested on the coffee table adjacent to her, pieces of toast torn apart, to the carpet just in front of the small trash can that sat on the ground beside her head.  He couldn’t help the pang of sympathy that spread through his body, especially since he knew how much she hated toast, she loathed it actually - she hated how dry and boring it tasted against her taste buds.

December had felt like a lifetime ago, sure, but he could still remember the way her feet had shuffled towards him after Christmas dinner.  His knees bouncing anxiously, his mind racing with what could have been hidden in the small box behind her back.  His eyebrows ruffling together in a slight confusion as she pushed the wrapped gift into his palms, her excitement nearly bursting from her pressed lips as she tried to keep the words from spilling into the air before he could it out himself.  He could remember the way the box had creaked open, the confusion growing even stronger as he found it resting against the deep black velvet pillowy background. Maybe it was a thermometer.  Maybe it was a weirdly shaped companion watch to the new Bvlgari Roma watch she had given him just earlier in the day.  Maybe it was a small cooking thermometer - maybe she had been trying to tell him that she was going to finally agree to those cooking classes he had been bugging her about for the past few months.  But as he had scanned the white plastic looking stick, he could remember the way his eyes nearly popped out from his head, the lights finally clicking as he stared at the small and completely undeniable plus sign at one of the ends.  His gaze immediately flying to her as she towered above him, noticing the way her lips curled into a seemingly never-ending grin and the slight blush color that still lingered on the bulb of her nose - the one indicator of tears he found most useful.  And he could vividly remember that, no matter how many times he had asked her if she was one hundred percent certain, or that she had taken more than just the one test that he had in his grasp, her answer was always yes.  Yes.

There was another part to their small family.  Another human who had yet to have a definable face or even fingers and toes. A human who had yet to make his wife cry at reruns of her favorite TV show or make her want the craziest combinations of foods imaginable.  A human who had yet to cause him a panic attack when false labor pains woke his wife up in the middle of the night.  But a human all the same.  Their human.  A family of three.

His fingertips traced along her hairline, peeling the few wisps of hair from her skin, a thin sheen of sweat beginning to cover her forehead.  His lips were warm as they pressed against the skin just above her eyebrows.

“Mmmm.” She stirred underneath him, her voice barely there.  “You’re nice and warm.”

He smiled, pulling away just in time to see the way her eyes lazily fluttered open.  “Is that why you married me?”

“Mostly.” Her lips curved upwards as she rolled over onto her back, tucking herself even further into the blankets.  “That and your corny jokes.  They’re sometimes funny.”

He chuckled, the air falling quiet between them only a few seconds later.  With his face right above her own and his body towering over her, his eyes washed across her features as she snuggled her face into the back cushion.  He immediately noticed the darkened circles underneath her eyes, the paleness of her complexion leaving her looking almost white, especially against the coffee colored fabric of the couch.  Her cheeks sunken in, a thinner contour shaping her face until it nearly pointed at her chin rather than rounded like he had been used to.  Her lips were dry and cracked, skin broken at the corners from the bouts of morning sickness she continued to battle with.

He felt his heart sink to the back of his throat, a wave of sympathy traveling through his veins as he looked at her.  He felt helpless.  “Rough night?”

“I’ve had better.”  She answered simply.

“Did you try any of the tricks your mom told you about?”

She shook her head, “I haven’t exactly told her how bad it’s been yet.  She’s still in the “honeymoon phase” of becoming a grandmother.”

In the few months since they had found out about the baby, they had been selfish in keeping the news to themselves.  He had been selfish, actually.  And more touchy.  He wanted both of them all to himself for as long as he could have them, knowing the second people knew or the second the baby was born, it was no longer just going to be their little family.  There would be baby showers and extravagant shopping trips with their mothers and sisters and friends, photographs documenting Styles Bump Watch 2018 every time they stepped out together.  They had told their parents just before he went on the promotional tour, his worry getting the best of his desires to keep to their private bubble, asking for them to watch over her until he could be back by her side.  A mixture of screams and tears and smiles erupting in the small restaurant even before they could finish the sentence they had rehearsed over and over in the car.

His hand found itself at the end of her ribcage, as it always did these days.  His hand was constantly on her abdomen as of late, his lips were always hovering over the skin above her naval and whispering a mess of facts about them, claiming that the baby wouldn’t know it’s parents from doctors when it was born.  And everything he talked about found some way of winding back to the baby - studio sessions with the boys turned into debates about godfathers, talk about writing for the next album turned into wanting to pen a lullaby so he could sing the baby to sleep, even grocery lists incorporated what the baby was craving.  But she couldn’t be mad - she wasn’t mad.  She couldn’t be mad with how in tune he was with her, with her body, with the baby.

“Be nice to mummy, baby.” He leaned towards her stomach, “You have to be nice to mummy.”

“This is supposed to happen.”

He pressed his lips together gently, his touch reaching for her cheeks and soothingly moving along her skin.  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

She shook her head dismissively, “You just got back from tour and you’re going back out in a few weeks.  You need your rest.”

“I can sleep another time.”

“I don’t want you to get sick on the road.”

“Stop.” His voice was strong and firm, his interruption coming as a surprise to the both of them so early in the morning.  “You always come first, you know that.”

“Trust me, you’re not missing anything.  It’s gross.”

“But, it’s still a part of it.”

“H - “

“I’m here, okay.” His eyes were pleading, his voice softening as they locked eyes. “Use me.”

“I know you are.” She whispered, pushing herself up so that she sat a little taller.  “I don’t know, I just - I just feel guilty sometimes.”

“Baby,” He cocked his head to the side, a frown pulling at his lips.  “There’s nothing to feel guilty about.  I signed up for this.  I helped create this little peanut, you know.”  He laughed when he saw her crack a smile.

“Yeah, I’m very well aware.  Who knew watching Magic Mike would get you in the mood?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” His hands were up in an instant, “It didn’t get me in the mood. You were the one who couldn’t keep your thoughts to yourself, I had to find some way to shut you up.”

She rolled her eyes, “Wow.  How romantic.”

“I mean, it wasn’t the worst night, now was it?”

She could feel the slight blush that crept up to her cheeks at his subtle wink.  “I guess it was pretty good.”

“I’m telling our baby you said that.” He pointed his finger at her in warning.

“I don’t think peanut can actually hear yet.”

He grumbled, “Not the point.”


“Just…wake me up.” He started again, his voice a mixture of defeat and tired.  “Wake me up for the battles of morning sickness and let me hold your hair back.  Wake me up when you want ridiculous combinations of the worst foods ever and use the excuse that the baby needs it - “

“Like pickles and ice cream?” Her smile was the widest he had seen in a while.

He shook his head, “Yes, even that disgusting concoction.”


“Wake me up when the baby kicks so much in the night and you can’t sleep.  Wake me up when you’re too uncomfortable even though the house is literally an icebox.  Wake me up for all of it.  Everything you think isn’t that big of a deal is important to me because it’s our child. You and the baby.” He took a deep breath, a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding back.  Looking into her wide eyes, seeing the surprise of his passion in the slight reflection of his figure inside the chocolate colored orbs, tears welling up against her eyelashes.  “That will always be important to me.”

She sniffled, wiping at the tops of her cheeks as the tears started to slowly slide down her skin.  “You do realize making your already hormonal pregnant wife cry is some sort of crime somewhere, right?”

He chuckled and pushed his way towards her lips.  Stopping just before pressing them against her own, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You’re going to be an amazing father.  I hope you know that.”

“I love you so much.” He smiled.  “Both of you.”

Sleepy Koala

“One more episode won’t hurt… and then I’ll go to bed.” Taylor thought to herself. She was binge watching Grey’s Anatomy and had been telling herself she would go to bed soon, but still hadn’t. She was too excited to sleep as Tom was arriving back in LA the next morning and a couple of her friends were coming over for a Labour Day weekend barbeque lunch at her house later on.

That was 5 hours ago. It was now 8am and Taylor was wide awake. She didn’t realise the time until a key on her front door and the cats skittering off to greet whoever was there. Taylor took a look at the clock and realised it must be Tom. Immediately she was up and running to the front door, where he only just had time to place his bag on the ground before she had her arms wrapped around his neck.

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You Haven’t seen eachother in 5+ months (3/4)


You rocked the baby in your arms in the plane back to Australia from LA. That’s rather hard when there are two people sat beside you. Either side of you. They both reminded you of someone, but with their faces covered it was hard to tell who.

The child was crying again you mumbled slightly, reaching into the bag beside you and pulling out a bottle of warm formula milk. You shook it before cradling the baby in a comfortable position and feeding it the drink. It’s bright blue eyes staring into your eyes.

“He’s a cutie.” The someone from beside you grinned, pulling the hood down. There was Michael. You smiled angling yourself so you could turn to face him to speak to him, whilst feeding the child. “How old?” He asked.

“Four and a half months.” You sighed. He sat there, staring at the child,, and by the look on his face he was thinking about something. The child finished his drink and cuddled into your side.

You put the cap on the bottle and put it back into your bag. 

“It’s Luke’s. Isn’t it?” Michael asked from beside you. You sighed slightly, nodding whilst closing your eyes.

“Wait what?” The other person asked from beside you, making your eyes snap open and for you to jerk upwards, almost like you were choking on something. This caused Brayden to stir and start crying.

“Shh baby biy.” You mumbled pressing your lips to his forehead. 

“Can I hold him?” Luke mumbled from beside you, you looked between Brayden and Luke before handing him over to him. “Get some sleep, no offence but you look shit.” 

You woke up after a few hours to see Luke had dozed off with Brayden asleep in his arms. You grabbed your phone and took a picture before taking Brayden out of Luke’s arms.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was mine?” Luke asked. You shurgged. 

“After we broke up, I didn’t think you’d want me to talk to you.” You mumbled. “I mean the only people that know are Calum, my parents and Liz.” 

“My mum knows and not me?” He choked out, you nodded looking down at Brayden. “I must of hurt you that bad, huh?” He asked. You nodded before letting some tears slip, the pain hitting you again.

“Babygirl.” He whispered, leaning over the arm rest and kissing you softly. That’s when the pieces you thought you had lost, started connecting back together.

{Ashton} {Calum} {Luke} {Michael}