Talk to me about Michael

Prompt= “One more minute ‘cause I don’t wanna go” — Slow

“Where are you going?” I walked into my bedroom that I shared with my fiancee, Y/n,  to find her packing a bag.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, making me look closer at the items she was shoving into the duffel bag. “You are.”

I knew that I was leaving that night to catch a flight to LA where I needed to meet with someone about a new upcoming solo and video contract. Even though that was good news, it didn’t register as that to my fiancee. “What’s going on?”

She sighed, finally standing up to look at me in the eye. “You’re going on tour. Again.” Deflated, she plopped down on the bed, sadly glancing at all the reminders of me she would have once I left. “You don’t know how hard it, Liam.”

I sat next to her, placing my hand on her knee. “Babe, I get it. You don’t like when I’m gone.”

“That’s not the point, Liam.” Her hazel eyes mirrored her loneliness back at me. The reflection of myself in them was blurry as a single tear fell down her cheek. “You’re always gone.”

I took her hand in mine, scratching my hand on the diamond that I had given her about six months ago. I squinted my eyes, preparing myself for what was about to come after my question. “Is this about the wedding?”

That stuck a nerve. Her eyebrows furrowed together. Eyes turned from depressed to just straight up fucking pissed. She erupted with rage, jumping off the bed and turning to glare at me. She threw her arms over her head and yelled, “Well, dammit, Liam! How the fuck are we supposed to have the perfect wedding when you’re never here to help me plan it!?! I can’t do it all by myself.”

“Babe, you know we can do whatever you want. As long as you’re at the end of the aisle in a beautiful white dress, I couldn’t care less about the cake or where the guests sit.”

She rubbed her hands down her face. “You don’t get it.” She bent down in front of me so she could look directly into my face. “Liam, this is a COUPLE’S activity. Planning a night where I will become YOUR WIFE. You need to be involved in more than just signing a check!”

I pulled her face against mine, lips locking. When we pulled apart, her tears were back, but replaced with anger instead of sadness. “I promise that after this trip to LA, I will be more involved. You can even sign me up on Pinterest if you want me to start looking at tuxes for the guys.”

She took me to the airport that night, holding my hand tight. I was taking a red eye to escape the crowds but also so I wouldn’t have too much jet lag. She walked me to security, then wrapped her arms around my neck. My agent was escorting me the rest of the way. He was standing on the opposite side of the body scanner. He waved when he saw us approaching the TSA agent.

“Babe, I love you.” Y/n whispered in my ear as I held her body against mine.

“I love you, too, honey.” I kissed her cheek, rubbing her back.

From the other side of the security line, my agent yelled, “Come on, Liam! We have a plane to catch!”

I pulled myself away from her to call back to him. “One more minute ‘cause I don’t wanna go.” I looked back down at Y/n, cupping her face. “I never want to leave you, babe.“

Prompt: “Your hand fits in mine like its made just for me” -Little Things (Take Me Home)

He knelt down in front of you, diamond ring in hand. “Y/n, we were made to be together. We’re soulmates. Everything that I want to do in life, I want you at my side. I never want to see you sad, even though I know it’ll happen. We’re two puzzle pieces. Your hand fits in mine like its made just for me and I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re my whole life and I want to spend the rest of it with you, no matter what happens to the band.” He sighed, then asked the big question. “Will you marry me?”

You jumped up and down, “Yes, Harry! Yes, I’ll marry you!”

He slipped the ring on your finger, then wrapped his arms around your waist. “Thanks, Angel.”

Prompt= “One more minute ‘cause I don’t wanna go” — Slow

“Where are you going?” I walked into my bedroom that I shared with my fiancee, Y/n,  to find her packing a bag.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, making me look closer at the items she was shoving into the duffel bag. “You are.”

I knew that I was leaving that night to catch a flight to LA where I needed to meet with someone about a new upcoming solo and video contract. Even though that was good news, it didn’t register as that to my fiancee. “What’s going on?”

She sighed, finally standing up to look at me in the eye. “You’re going on tour. Again.” Deflated, she plopped down on the bed, sadly glancing at all the reminders of me she would have once I left. “You don’t know how hard it, Liam.”

I sat next to her, placing my hand on her knee. “Babe, I get it. You don’t like when I’m gone.”

“That’s not the point, Liam.” Her hazel eyes mirrored her loneliness back at me. The reflection of myself in them was blurry as a single tear fell down her cheek. “You’re always gone.”

I took her hand in mine, scratching my hand on the diamond that I had given her about six months ago. I squinted my eyes, preparing myself for what was about to come after my question. “Is this about the wedding?”

That stuck a nerve. Her eyebrows furrowed together. Eyes turned from depressed to just straight up fucking pissed. She erupted with rage, jumping off the bed and turning to glare at me. She threw her arms over her head and yelled, “Well, dammit, Liam! How the fuck are we supposed to have the perfect wedding when you’re never here to help me plan it!?! I can’t do it all by myself.”

“Babe, you know we can do whatever you want. As long as you’re at the end of the aisle in a beautiful white dress, I couldn’t care less about the cake or where the guests sit.”

She rubbed her hands down her face. “You don’t get it.” She bent down in front of me so she could look directly into my face. “Liam, this is a COUPLE’S activity. Planning a night where I will become YOUR WIFE. You need to be involved in more than just signing a check!”

I pulled her face against mine, lips locking. When we pulled apart, her tears were back, but replaced with anger instead of sadness. “I promise that after this trip to LA, I will be more involved. You can even sign me up on Pinterest if you want me to start looking at tuxes for the guys.”

She took me to the airport that night, holding my hand tight. I was taking a red eye to escape the crowds but also so I wouldn’t have too much jet lag. She walked me to security, then wrapped her arms around my neck. My agent was escorting me the rest of the way. He was standing on the opposite side of the body scanner. He waved when he saw us approaching the TSA agent.

“Babe, I love you.” Y/n whispered in my ear as I held her body against mine.

“I love you, too, honey.” I kissed her cheek, rubbing her back.

From the other side of the security line, my agent yelled, “Come on, Liam! We have a plane to catch!”

I pulled myself away from her to call back to him. “One more minute ‘cause I don’t wanna go.” I looked back down at Y/n, cupping her face. “I never want to leave you, babe.“

Prompt: “Saw your face and got inspired” — Like I Would

You were walking down the street, in search of the awesome farmer’s market that your town has every Wednesday afternoon. You wore your white Vans slip ons with ripped skinny jeans and a flannel shirt, embracing the crisp fall air that blew your long curls around your shoulders and back. While you were mid-step, something told you to look up. 

From across the pedestrian-filled street, you made eye contact with a street artist. His rugged beard and thick dark eyebrows brought a sense of mystery about him that intrigued you. He used the nail of his thumb to scratch above a scar in his eyebrow, allowing you to notice the line of bare skin clashing against the dark hair. He glanced up from his easel and locked eyes with you. The world froze. You blinked and instantly was sucked back into the market. One of the farmers was trying to talk you into buying some of his tomatoes. His voice brought you back into reality. After shoving some money into his hand, you reluctantly put some of the tomatoes in your bag, but you weren’t really paying attention. As your eyes were searching around for the street artist, you accidentally dropped one of the tomatoes, leaving it to splatter all over the ground and the tips of your shoes.

Once you were bummed about not finding the hot street artist again, you decided that you purchased enough produce, so you began walking back in the direction of your apartment. You walked through a parking lot and saw the street artist putting his art supplies in a van.

“Hey,” you said, walking up to him. “I saw you earlier and wanted to see what kind of stuff you were painting.”

He smiled at you, then shoved the easel into the back of the van. “Oh, hey. I remember you.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.” He blushed a little, then pulled another easel off the top of the others. “I, uh, was inspired to paint this because of you.”

You instantly blushed. On the canvas, you saw a portrait of a young woman who looked just like you, but with little pieces of tomato on her face in in her hair, like she had just gotten into a food fight. She was biting her lip and had the tip of her pointer finger in her mouth. “You painted this because of me?”

“Yeah,” he blushed and ran his fingers through his blonde-died hair. “I saw what happened when you bought those tomatoes and I guess I saw your face and got inspired.” He lit a cigarette and then put it between his two fingers, allowing the smoke to cloud the air between you. “I’m Zayn, by the way.”

“Y/n,” you introduced yourself and shook hands with Zayn. You tucked a stray curl out of your face and smiled. “Would you like to go get a cup of coffee or something?”

“Yeah. That’d be great.” He put the canvas back in the van, “I think there’s a Starbucks around here.”

So, together you walked to the coffee shop, then talked for hours without realizing it. You only checked the time when your roommate texted you, asking where you were because the farmer’s market had ended three hours ago. You put a hand to your face. “Oh, my gosh. I didn’t realize it was this late.” You threw the strap of your purse on your shoulder, then stood up from the table. “I’m sorry, but I have to get going. I have an early class to teach tomorrow.”

“At least let me give you a ride home.” He offered, standing up and grabbing your bag of produce.

“Oh, I couldn’t accept that. My apartment is just a few blocks away.”

“I insist.” He put a hand on your shoulder, “It’s pitch black out here. What kind of guy would I be to let a lady walk home in the dark? Come on.”

He drove you home, continuing the conversation from the coffee shop, only being interrupted by you giving him directions to your apartment. Once you arrived, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and thanked him for a lovely evening. You had given him your cell phone number at the cafe and told him to text you. He said he would and then was on his way. You honestly thought that would be the last time you ever heard from him.

When you woke up the next morning to get ready for your lecture, your roommate knocked on your door as you fluffed your hair. She had her toothbrush in her mouth and mumbled that you had a package waiting for you at the door. After asking why she hadn’t brought it in for you, she shrugged and went back into the bathroom. So, you walked to the door, unlocked it and opened it. Staring back at you was the portrait that Zayn had painted of you with the tomatoes in your face. In the top corner, you saw a bright pink sticky note with some scribbles on it. Peeling it off, you brought it closer for inspection. “Inspire me some more, tomato girl  xxx Zayn” All you could do was snicker.

Welcome to America 🇺🇸

“ive connected the dots” “you didnt connect shit” “ive connected them” is by far the best thing to have come out of buzzfeed unsolved it is so incredibly funny. the poses. the confidence. i can feel the tone. its incredible. 

poetic cinema

a concept: louis playing the piano during a song that’s an answer to sweet creature, released on the 10-year anniversary of larry first ‘meeting’

YES 👏🏼👏🏼

larents ft. guitar + piano

Louis: [is ready to release his music and show his talent]

Me:

when you reblog your own post cause it didn’t get notes

Come back with a warrant

Oh my god

x

3/10

me every day after ‘18 months’

me after 1000 days