thank you so much for the invite sob;;




P.S. I hope you appreciate these lovely candids of me :) 

anonymous asked:

46 & 56 with Chen please, thank you so much! Have a nice day today.

You choked on your own sobs, tears blurring your vision as you glanced at the clock that ticked away on the kitchen counter.


Its numbers seemed to mock you as you waited, almost pathetically, for your fiance to return home.

The formal party that you and Jongdae had been invited to by your coworkers began as one of the happiest nights of your life. There was music, there was dancing, there was even a fireworks display. You were happy to be in the arms of the man who had proposed to you just three weeks prior, happy to have him sway with you to the slow jazz that promised delicate intimacy.

The night, however, came to a screeching halt as soon as you returned from the bathroom to find a blonde damsel, dressed thin, prim, and proper, draping herself over your soon-to-be husband’s shoulders. Your fists clenched immediately as you her accidentally trip over the corner of the table. Your jaw tightened as she fell into his arms and he caught her. You saw Jongdae look into her eyes with as much care and concern as he did to you on the nights after you made love to each other. A sparkle that was promised to be yours when he offered you the silver ring.

Before you could watch anymore, you had grabbed your belongings and left, able to convince one of your best friends to give you a lift back to the apartment you and Jongdae had shared, tears marking the journey home.

That was 3 hours ago.

And yet, there was still no sign of Jongdae.

You filled your glass to the brim with the maroon-colored liquid that promised mental escape. The cup overflowed, and a significant amount of wine spilled over, dripping onto the counter. You paid it no mind, bringing the glass to your lips and beginning to chug it down like your life depended on it.

You were so entranced by the way the alcohol felt like silk on your tongue that you didn’t hear the lock to the apartment door beep and click open.

“Hey, I’m late,” Jongdae’s voice went unheard behind you, “But I’m home now and-”

You were rudely awoken from your blissful trance as the wine glass was ripped away from your hands.

“Jagi? What on earth are you doing?!” You blinked your heavy eyelids, doing your best to focus on the man that was yelling at you.

What is he so angry about this time? You hiccuped, finishing your thought.

“Why do you care if I’m over here enjoying myself, hmm?” You swayed, the alcohol taking its toll on your equilibrium. “Itzz not like you had a problem enjoying yourself with other company.”

You words were so slurred, you hardly recognized them yourself. You began to tip off of the stool you were sitting on, prepared to fall head first onto the kitchen tile.

Two strong forearms reached across your torso protectively, preventing you from tumbling over in your drunken state.

“What? What on earth are you talking about?” Jongdae moved his hands to your shoulders, firmly keeping you in place.

You hiccuped again. “That one chick who was all over you. I thought that was supposed- to be me. I thought you were supposed- to look at me like that. I thought… I thought-”

And uncontrollable sob erupted from your throat. You hunched over as Jongdae gently brought your head to his chest.

“Are you talking about Sohee?” He let out a deep sigh and began to pet your hair. “Jagiya, that was a set up from my old college friends. They hadn’t gotten the news that I proposed to you and still thought I was single, so they told my ex that I was still available.”

You sniffled, moving your head away to look up at your fiance with eyes brimmed with tears.

“A set up?” You sniffed again. “You mean, like a joke?”

“Yes, exactly, it was a joke, I swear.” Jongdae delicately brushed a clump of tangled, sweaty bangs away from your eyes. “They thought it would be funny to watch me have to play it cool around my psychotic ex girlfriend from eons ago, but the game was over the minute I got her to stop clinging onto me and told her I was engaged.”

“So… You really aren’t tired of me?”

“Oh, my poor angel, I can’t believe you told yourself these lies. All because of my pathetic actions.” Jongdae took a step closer and pulled you into his chest once again, this time tighter. “I won’t ever let you feel this way again, alright?”

You nodded against his strong arms, coughing as you did your best to calm your cries.

“Let’s get you to bed now, Jagi, you need to sleep off all of this wine.”

Jongdae pulled you up from your stool before quickly wrapping your left arm around his neck and scooping you up into his arms bridal style.

“No one is going to take my beautiful fiance away from me. Only I get to enjoy the ability to touch your beautiful curves, kiss your beautiful lips, and look into your beautiful eyes.”

You blushed at his words. A wave of exhaustion began to overtake your muscles and consciousness as the gentle sway of Jongdae’s footsteps lulled to you relax.

Once in the bedroom, he set you down on the bed carefully, taking off his shirt and replacing his pants with pajama bottoms before joining you underneath the covers.

“I’m sorry, Jongdae,” Your breathing hitched as you faced the aftermath of your crying episode. “I should’ve given you a chance before jumping to conclusions.”

Shhhh,” Jongdae turned on his side to face you, using his thumb to wipe away a stray tear. “I will invalidate every insecurity, every thought of imperfection that you have.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you leaned forward to give Jongdae a soft peck on the lips. Your fiance smiled into the kiss, prolonging it before you pulled away.

“I made the decision to give you all of me when I proposed, and I am prepared to defend that commitment for life.” Jongdae smiled at you as he cupped your cheek.

You closed your eyes and sighed against his hand. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Kim Jongdae?”

“You did just enough to make me fall head over heels, Jagi, and nothing can replace that.”

Originally posted by sjabe

A/N: I don’t know about y’all but I definitely needed this mental image. Sometimes the level of cheese in my own fluff gets to me, but just picturing sensitive, caring Jongdae makes all my pain go away~ I hope it was to your liking, anon! ^^ Thank you for requesting!!


thoughts after seeing falsettos:

  • stephanie j block is absolutely incredible and breaking down changed my entire life
  • anthony rosenthal?? is so adorable?? his little dancing while listening to the walkman?? i died 
  • whizzer & marvin & the lesbians is the gay/lesbian solidarity we need
  • im so glad i never finished listening to the cast recording before watching the proshot it was a much more authentic experience
  • the set design?????? holy shit???????? did y’all see all that tape on the floor?
  • andrew rannells in those high waisted tight pants: 👌👌👌
  • im forgetting a lot of things uhhh
  • oh yeah
  • the sound of an entire theater sobbing together is such a bonding experience
  • seriously oh god i sobbed so much im so sorry ladies who were sitting next to me i tried to stay quiet
  • nothing like crying about the aids epidemic at 4 pm
  • jason inviting whizzer to the baseball game made me cry
  • marvin’s character development: 👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌
  • the cHESS PIECE ON THE!!! TOMBSTONE!!!!! who else died a lil
  • one more point thank you for reading this far:


anonymous asked:

oh my god I NEED to hear more about the maid in the GoT au. When does she learn of Sid's true nature? Does it happen immediately, as he doesn't hit her for pinning something wrong, looks concerned when she cliches back, asks of her day and if she needs a moment? Or does it happen later, as she is browsing the market for some fruit for her family, a man follows her, she tries to lose him in the alleyways, he gets close, grabs her arm harshly, only to get thrown to the side by the magic (1/2)

stemming from Sid’s fingers as he runs towards her, muttering questions as to her state, turning towards the man, declaring that his hand be chopped, if he does not know how to use it decently? (2/2)


Sidney is kind, she realizes. And very polite to good company. He doesn’t strike her for folding his robes incorrectly, just shows her the way he prefers it to be done. He’s very particular about his routines, has to have things done in an order that makes no sense other than himself, but he doesn’t mind re-teaching her how. When he goes out to the market in his hood, he’s always courteous with the market-goers and uses a very soothing voice to help calm frantic mothers and locate their lost child. Often times, Sidney calls her to his side at bedtime and gives her something wrapped in linen, revealing it to be one of the cakes he’d saved from dinnertime. 

“You mentioned your fondness for lemon tarts,” Sidney whispers, tucking the gift into her apron even as she protested. “I saved you one. I would’ve gotten more, but Councilman Jerold had been staring at me lingering around the table for too long.” 

He learns of her homesickness in her early days at the castle, and he tells her sympathetically, “When I was younger, I oft became homesick. I was different, and the other children treated me as such.” 

In time, she’s comfortable enough to sit on Sidney’s bed, crosslegged and barefoot, as he shows her books he’d been scribbling in, talking about magic and spells that can turn a man’s hair blue as the morning sky and showing her the jewels that King Evgeni had given him. 

“They’re beautiful,” she whispers, as Sidney hands her the sapphire bracelet. “Your Majesty is indeed lucky to have such a doting husband.”

“It’s for you,” Sidney says, and she looks up in surprise. “It’d been woven with a curse from the Eastern Isles, but I broke the curse on it long ago. It’s just a regular bracelet now.” He shrugs. “I have no use for jewelry.”

“Your Majesty, but I have no use for it either,” she says. She trusts Sidney–he’s a skilled mage, she’d discovered. If he said the bracelet is no longer cursed, then it must be so. But– “I’m just–my position has no need–the others would talk–”

“Then sell it,” Sidney says kindly. “Take it as a gift, for you being so cooperative with my peculiarities and superstition.”

She sells the bracelet, and she gets two small bags of gold coins for it, one of which she gives to her mother, who cries.  

Another time, she accidentally knocks over a plant while cleaning in Sidney’s study, and she freezes. Sidney looks up, cocking his head. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

“No,” she answers, bending to her knees and cleaning up the mess. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, I’m just–”

“Is there anything on your mind?”

“I–” She gulps, feeling tears well in her eyes. “My brother is very sick, Your Majesty. My mother worries his fever may not break, he’s very young, I’m–I’m afraid he might–”

“A fever?” Sidney says, standing up. “Take me to him.”

“No, Your Majesty, no, it’s alright–”

“Let me see what I can do to help,” Sidney tells her gently. “If we cure him tonight, then wouldn’t you say it’d be better for the whole kingdom so they would not fall ill to the same thing?”

“I–yes, Your Highness.”

Sidney visits her home, and the following day, her brother is running around in the backyard as if he’d never been sick a day in his life. Her mother wouldn’t stop sobbing and thanking Sidney, begging him for some way to repay him.

“I very much like those strawberry pies I saw in your bakery,” Sidney says. “I’d like to try a piece, if you don’t mind.”

Sidney leaves with three full pies and an invitation for dinner, which he promises he will most definitely attend. 

She watches Consort Sidney play with the nobles’ children, always looking at them longingly as if he’d like one of his own. She asks him, once, and Sidney lowers his lashes.

“I’d like a family,” Sidney says glumly. “I’ve been visiting the orphanages with Zhenya.”

He’d trailed off then, and she hadn’t pursued the question any further. 

She observes Sidney sit with the elderly soldiers, laughing at their war stories and spending time with them as they comment on how rare it is a jewel like Sidney would have time to visit them.

“I’m always happy to visit you,” Sidney smiles. “Come now, tell me again of that time you met Sir Gerald on your trek to King’s Turn.”

He’d saved her on one occasion, as she got separated from him at the market and she’d been pursued by a drunken sailor who’d cornered her and slapped her when she tried to bite his hands. The sailor had been thrown onto the dusty ground with a pained thud by Sidney, appearing from behind like some sort of shade, extending one arm and flicking his wrist to twist the sailor’s ankles in the way that it was not supposed to go. She’d never seen Sidney this angry, and for a moment, she’d been afraid the anger had been directed at her.

But no, Sidney’s still staring at the sailor as he says, “If you don’t know how to use your hands decently, I don’t believe you deserve to have hands at all.” 

He’d tilted his head in one fast motion, and the sailor screamed as his hands separated from his wrist as if sliced by an invisible blade.

The maid becomes very defensive of Sidney, breaking up whispers in the laundry room among other maids who complain about what a slut the Consort is, and how he’s making their workload so heavy with extra bedsheets and clothes needing to be cleaned. Just look at that tart, wriggling shamelessly on the King’s lap and whispering filth in His Majesty ear, most likely–

“You’ll refer to the Consort with respect,” she’d hiss at them. “What he does in his spare time is none of our business. Do your job and stop mouthing off about people you don’t know.”

(And if she returns to his chambers at night, helping him undress and stuffing a wrapped strawberry tart in the Consort’s hands, saying, “My mother said to give you this,” with a wink, no one really has to know.)

My Heart Breaks

Liam x MC

“I feel so happy when I’m with Liam.  I fall more and more in love with him. It’s like we are the only two in the world. " 

"But?"  Drake asks, frowning as he watches his friend hurting.  

"But then he’s gone. And I’m alone… wondering if it was all a dream… or a figment of my imagination. Because when the sun is out and other people are around, he’s not the same person.  He’s not Liam, my love… he’s Liam, Madeleine’s fiance’.   His hand rests on the small of her back like it did mine the night before.  It’s her holding his arm or his hand as they walk across the room.  When a wisp of his hair falls out of place, SHE’S the one that casually sweeps it aside.  I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“He loves you.” he answers quietly, knowing it probably won’t help but unsure of what else he can do or say to make her feel better. 

“I know…” Riley wipes a tear from her cheek, taking a deep breath.  “I just don’t know how much longer I can do this.  I wonder if it would be better if I wasn’t HERE.  If I didn’t have to watch them every day.”


“But then I wouldn’t get to see him at all.”

“Do you think the stolen moments are making the rest of the time harder?”

She nods, choking up, “As much as I hate to say it…"  Riley puts her face in her hands, sobbing.  Drake puts his arm around her, his clenching jaw the only sign of his anger at the situation.  He rubs her arm, squeezing it reassuringly, "We will figure all this out, Riley.  I promise.  It won’t be like this forever.”

She nods again, “I know. Thank you Drake.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I think I’m going to have to turn down tonight’s midnight invitation.” She looks up at him pleadingly.

This time he nods, “You want me to talk to Liam?”


Keep reading


Prompt: Clash of social classes in which Luhan is poor

Genre: ??? I actually have no idea how to categorize this. Mild angst? Idek

Word Count: 1987

The first time you saw him, you had to do a double take.

Yeah, he had some dirt and grime smudged into his skin, clothes that had seen better days, and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while, but he was still cute. In fact, you didn’t look back at him because of his clothing status, or hair; there were plenty of other people on the streets like that. You looked back because he was handsome, and it wasn’t until you took the second glance that you noticed his ragged appearance. And putting both observations together caused confusion, or was it intrigue?

Whatever it was, it made you slow down because you began to stare.

He noticed.

You quickly looked forward again and began walking to the subway entrance a little bit faster, failing to see him duck his head to stare back at the ground as soon as your eyes met.

Every day, when you walked to the subway to go home, he was there, sitting against an old building, sometimes singing, and always a tin can for charity change which sat in front of him. Beside him, there lay an old, yet reliable backpack with rationed food, water bottles, a blanket, a jacket, and the money he received from yesterday.

Every day you’d pass by him, and every day the two of you would make fleeting eye contact.

It wasn’t until one day, a month later, that you got off work early and stopped to listen to him sing. He had his eyes closed, and he was leaning back with his hand folded over his chest. If he wasn’t singing, you’d think he was sleeping.

His voice was sweet and captivating and when he held out his last note, you found yourself wishing the song didn’t end.

He opened his eyes and looked up at you.

You startled back a step, blinking a few times, before clearing your throat and pulling out the first bill in your bag that your fingers felt to drop it into the can.

“You have a really nice voice,” you said with a friendly smile.

“Thanks. That took a while to say hello, though, not gonna lie.” He grinned back.

“Well…yeah, yeah it was. What’s your name?”

“Luhan. Yours?”

“Can I treat you to some coffee?”

It had been a couple weeks since you made acquaintances with Luhan, and every day on your way home, you would greet each other and whatever spare change you had was dropped into his can with soft, metallic clanking. Now you wanted to treat him to some coffee, spend a little free time together. He was cool.

“I don’t want to bother you with-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Luhan. I wanna hang out with you. Tell me a story or something.”

“Well…I guess, yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

“So where did you go yesterday?” You asked as he sipped his cup. “I didn’t see you at your spot.”

“I was at a hotel.”

“A hotel? Why?”

“To wash up. Once I save enough money, I can get a proper bed, a warm shower, TV, room service, though I rarely order it. I only get it if I really have enough.”

“So you only get to shower once every week or so?”

He took a long draw from the steaming cup before answering. “Warm shower,” he corrected. “I wash up whenever I can, and I take the little shampoo things from the rooms. But I go if I have enough. That’s after making sure I have enough to feed myself and get water and other essentials. Sometimes it’s choosing between a blanket or a bed. Winter can get pretty harsh, but people tend to be more generous around Christmas time. Sometimes I get enough to stay at a hotel for two days. Summer is the worst though. It’s hot and you’re all sweaty and gross and that just adds more negative appeal to your appearance.” He took another gulp.

You sat there, watching the steam rise and curl from your coffee, letting his words sink in.

“So you really are homeless?”

He chuckled. “Believe me. If I had a place to settle down, I would.”

“How long have you lived like this?”

“Hmmm…a couple years? I moved from my old spot because some of the guys there were getting troublesome and I like my face.”

“It’s a good face.”

“You know it,” he replied with a smirk. “But just so you don’t get the wrong idea,” his face grew serious again, “I don’t sit against that wall all day begging for money. It’s humiliating, honestly. Anyone who begs has to stuff down and even destroy whatever pride they have in themselves to ask strangers for money, and all we can be is thankful because without their charity…well, too bad the world revolves around wealth.”

“Would it…would it be too much to ask what happened?”

He shook his head. “Nah…not really. A lot of people actually have the same or similar stories.” He downed the last of his coffee and took a bite of the pastry you bought him. “Basically what happened was I made a bad investment at the worst time. I loaned my friend a good bit of money to help support him in his business that he wanted to start, and it had a good future if it wasn’t for the city’s economic downturn four years ago. His business was crushed, he couldn’t pay me back, a bunch of people like myself got laid off, I couldn’t pay for my bills or my home, and eventually I had to move out to the streets.”

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“Yeah, I am too, but right now, the best I can do is just get by and save money as best as I can.” He took another bite and chewed slowly, staring at a spot on the table. “It’s funny,” he said after he swallowed, “most people who are homeless don’t actually live on the streets. Even I don’t stay out here for too long. I usually crash at a friend’s house, like most, but I felt bad for mooching all the time so I’m just…enjoying the fresh air…I actually know quite a few kids who are homeless too.”


“Mhmm. If parents lose their jobs, their homes, so do their kids. The sad thing is, since most places require a solid bank account and address and stuff, it’s really hard to get back on your feet once it’s gone. Believe me, not all of us are junkies or alcoholics. A lot of us are trying to get a home, a job, our lives back. Even people who work can be homeless too. I’m working, but housing can get really expensive in the cities so I’m saving as much as I can for a small apartment at least…sorry, I’m rambling.” He took another bite.

“No, it’s fine. It's…a bit of a perception change.”


“So what do you do.”

“Ambitiously washing dishes. My shift ends about half an hour before you pass by and then I sing a little sometimes, it helps.”

You finished your coffee. Here was this pleasant, friendly person with a nice sense of humor and a good heart, working as best as he could and still barely scraping by each day. A world revolving around money instead of character. And here you were working a solid job with great pay, with a huge inheritance from your family, and living in the penthouse suite of the chain of apartments your family also owned.

“Hey, Luhan?”


“I uh…my family actually owns quite a few apartment complexes, condos and such. I can see if we can give you an address to keep, I’m sure we can, and you can pay it off when you can and I can help you if you want. Please let me help you.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed and still processing. It took a few moments to for him to clear his throat to reply. His eyes hardened with cautious defense.

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way but homeless people can disappear easily and pretty much no one would notice. How do I know you aren’t gonna, I dunno, sell me or something. I don’t even know who you really are.

This startled you. “O-oh. Well, I…damn, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think of how weird it might be for you but I, uh…”

You pulled out your phone and typed your family name into the search engine. You started laughing, unable to believe you were actually looking yourself up.

“Here. I know this is super weird and stuff but this is really me. I just, I just really want to help a friend out.”

He stared.

“What the fuck? You're…you’re rich? Like rich, rich! How-what?”

“I really-”

“No. Hold up. You’re super rich like, really fucking rich?”

“My family is. I still work.”

“But you-what are you, some billionaire philanthropist? What are you doing just talking with me over a cup of coffee? Shouldn’t you be living in some CEO penthouse suite for the rest of your life? Why do you use the subway? The fuck?!”

“My parents raised me to earn my money. My family is rich but I’m not so different from regular people either, and I guess I just got used to taking the subway. Seriously though, I…I wanna help you out.”

He chewed on his lip, turning the whole situation over in his mind.

“But I-I don’t have enough…well, enough anything to pay you back. Why would you-”

“Please. Don’t worry about it. Think of it like…like I’m making an investment. As long as you work hard.”

“You’re serious?”


“This isn’t some sort of joke, you’re actually gonna help?”

“Yes, I am. It’s just not fair for you, for anyone.”

He looked down. “The world isn’t fair, but damn.” He looked you in the eyes, his emotions swimming and you could tell he was forcing himself not to cry. “Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s been so hard when almost everyone passes by you without looking, and when they do it’s with pity or contempt or disgust. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I really don’t know how to thank-” His voice broke and he began sobbing, biting back the sounds that wanted to escape from his throat. He just hid his face in his hands, as his shoulders shook with the weight of life being lifted off, even if it was just a little.

You had invited him to your penthouse suite for a warm dinner and a nice shower and the spare bed while everything got sorted out.

You changed into something more comfortable and when you left your bedroom, you found him standing close to the window wall. He looked down, watching the night lights of the city, the moving life so far beneath him.

“It’s beautiful,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” you stood next to him and looked down. “Yeah, it is.” Seeing the city from so far up in his point of view, his view that was always on the stained concrete, it really was very beautiful.

“Maybe that’s why so many people in this position are ruthless, thinking they’re better than the rest of us,” he whispered mostly to himself. “They’re just so used to looking down on everyone. And everyone seems to have to look down on someone else to feel better about themselves…isn’t it sad?”

You could only nod and you stared at the breathing lights below.

“Thank you for not being that kind of person, and don’t let the fleeting image of money or power cloud your kindness. Because anyone. Anyone can become homeless. Who are we to put our security in bits of paper and the intangible concept of ownership. All our stuff will go to someone else sooner or later, so why should it matter so much?”

Taylor, I hope you stumble upon this post somehow. There are no words to express how thankful I am for you inviting me to your Secret Session in London. THANK YOU A BILLION TIMES. I also want to thank you for how meeting you has helped me, and here´s two reasons why. The following paragraphs are not meant to be a sob story. I just want to thank you for ways in which meeting you has helped me want to grow as a person.

When we met I told you how I struggle with anxiety and how your music helps me. Yes, I might have posted about my anxiety on here before, but you´re one of the first people I´ve admitted that to, face-to-face. And being able to tell you that (though in a nervously rambling way ;)) made me realize that it´s okay to be more open about struggles like that. I´ve told a few more people since coming back home, and I´ve reached out to get professional help from someone I can talk to on a regular basis. Thank you for (yet again) reminding me that there´s strength in being honest.

I´ve never been a confident person, and I still cannot wrap my head around you wanting to meet me. Getting invited to your Secret Session in London is one of the nicest things anyone´s ever done for me. I still cannot believe you wanted to meet ME. And the fact that you did, is such a confidence boost. THANK YOU! It´s also a reminder to myself that I really want to work on being more confident. I want to fully realize that you wanted to meet me because I´m ME. And seeing you literally glowing and being so confident was such a beautiful reminder that happiness and confidence truly are the most beautiful things you can wear.  You remind me to be kind to myself, and for that I´m so immensely thankful. Meeting you was obviously also such a beautiful reminder that there´s no dream too big!! Meeting you has made me realize that I want to learn how to be a stronger and more confident person. What I´m trying to say is; THANK YOU. Thank you for always being such an amazing inspiration to me. Thank you for inviting me and trusting me. Thank you for being YOU. I´m eternally grateful.

If we ever meet again one day, I hope you´ll see a less nervously rambling mess and a more confident me. In the mean time, I would love for you to meet lovelies who haven´t had the pleasure of meeting you yet. Cannot wait to see you on tour!!

Yes, I cried like a baby, typing this.

I love you so so much!

Your sparkling nail polish twin and rambling Norwegian friend,


35 years later, March 18th, 2050.
  • Grandchild: Hey grandma, can I plea- Why are you crying?
  • Me: (Wipes tears) I just remembered how much this day has affected me so... Want to have a tea party with me? You can invite all your friends.
  • Grandchild: ...Okay? I'll go tell my friends. (Leaves)
  • Me: (Slowly closes book and walks to book shelf)
  • Me: Thank you so much for the adventure.
  • Me: (Places Pandora Hearts Volume 24 back on its place)
  • Me: (Starts crying again)

Taylor, thank you so much for inviting me to the secret session. I didn’t say half of what I wanted to because I was so nervous. Maybe you’ll see it here. First let me say that clean is my song. I don’t know if you saw or remember, but I was sobbing during that song. It just made me realize that maybe one day I’ll be clean from a friendship that was only bringing me down. Okay so I wanted to tell you how much you have influenced me over the years. You’ve encouraged me to be happy with what I have. When I was in eighth grade my parents told me they were getting a divorce. I was devastated. Every night I would cry in my room alone. I could’ve done so much worse to myself, but I always knew your music would be there to comfort me. Red was my album back then. Both of my best friends ditched me for other people and each other. Your music was the one to comfort me. I always knew that you were supporting me even if we had never met before. Your music has always been there for me and so have you. Most importantly I wanted to tell you that I love you so much and you are the big sister I have always wanted. You are so sweet and beautiful. I love you so much. taylorswift

#O5O: 'So in love,'

A/N: Based on the Ed Sheeran song Tenerife Sea. Happy new year! x

Harry: Tears clouded your sight as he grabbed your hands in his, speaking words you knew he was making up on the spot. But to see him so passionate about you and your relationship, about what he likes about you and all the memories you’ve made is so good. “You’re gonna make me cry,” He muttered after seeing water dripping down your cheeks. Having to watch you cry is one of the most hurtful things he’s ever had to experience, but to know now, that these are happy tears - he wants to cry them too! He’s so happy for your father’s blessing, your mother’s too. He’s thankful you’ve come into his life and brightened it up in the most darkest places. He’s happy you’ve agreed to marry him. He swiped his thumbs underneath your eyes. “I’m so in love with you, and that’s why I’m marrying you today.”

Niall: “You look so wonderful in your dress,” He sang quietly in your ear as he took you around the dance floor gracefully. “I love your hair like that.” You blushed madly, not ever used to his compliments. A slight blurry vision came on as he sang along with Ed. “I love you Niall.” He smiled bigger. “I love you too [Y/N]. So in love,” He hadn’t stopped saying how gorgeous you looked in your wedding dress - you saw it when you were walking down the aisle with your father. “I can’t wait to peel it off you though,” A smirk was seen on your faces, leaving people to assume. “All that you are is all that I’ll ever need.” Soon enough people started to join the married couple on the dance floor. As the song finished your head was rested on his chest, the two of you looking up at Ed who was smiling brightly at you, giving a thumbs up.

Zayn: It was no secret he and you had the strongest bond of love. People described you as an old married couple, that you were going to grow old together and cook each other breakfast, lunch and tea. Or, he’d get hurt at work and you’d look after him, tend to his every need. Fans had said the two of you would purchase a small cottage in a retirement village and have your children visit every now and then, with their children. “It’s nice that they think of us like that,” He had a smile that showed his teeth easily, thinking of the future with you and growing old. “How many children d’you think we’ll have?” He spread his hand out on your growing tummy, “Well, we’ve got one coming up,” You replied, placing your hand on his. He kissed your lips. “Maybe another one after and another,” You let out a laugh, “Maybe.”

Louis: You were in a rather revealing hospital gown, resting lightly after a long labour. He was holding your little bundle of joy, talking to her softly and humming one of his songs he had to memorise the lyrics to, calming her down so you could sleep. “I think she’s hungry,” He whispered, cracking a smile that reached his eyes. “She’s already had a feed, though.” You mumbled quietly in hopes of being left alone. “So in love,” He sang, rocking her to sleep. “Thank you [Y/N].” He had a hard time seeing your reaction through his tears but he saw it, your eyes open and alert. “Thank you for giving me this wonderful baby, I’m so in love with you and her. You’re the most beautiful wife, only wife, I’ll ever need.” He was sobbing now and your arms were around him as well as your newborn, crying in sync. “I can’t be more thankful,”

Liam: You were in the backyard of your new house, taking down and folding your washing before heading back inside to prepare the Sunday dinner everyone was invited to. He stood facing you, watching you continue on with life while he was stuck in a dream. He didn’t believe that you were his wife and the mother of his daughter and son, you were too much of a goddess but he was so in love. “Liam?” You called out a second time, turning to see him standing on the porch. “Could you give me a hand please?” “Oh - yeah, sorry,” He mumbled, taking the towels over his right shoulder and lifting the basket full of dry clothing from you. “Have you got the meat ready?” You had the tea towels in hand, walking alongside your husband. “Yeah, I’m just waiting for the barbecue to heat up and I’ll get started,”