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One Direction Preferences/Scenarios.

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He Tweets a Picture of Your Concert.

Harry:

@Harry_Styles: I bet you didn’t know those are real flowers. Grew them myself.

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Liam:

 

@Real_Liam_Payne: Love hearing her sing this one, really shows off her voice!! You’re killing it babe!! :)

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Louis:

@Louis_Tomlinson: Things get pretty crazy at (Y/N)’s concerts..

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Niall:

@NiallOfficial: So proud of my girl and how far she’s come ! I always knew you’d make it !

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Zayn:

@zaynmalik: Nothing beats watching her perform. Except maybe better seats…just kidding :) x

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Hope you guys are enjoying the updates! I’m going to try and do some tomorrow, but I’m leaving for New York City so it might be a bit hard!

Also remember that my inbox is always open, even if you just want to say hi! I love talking to you guys!

Happy reading! x

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Scenario #75: You Come Out of Surgery.
Harry: You wake up in a hospital bed, confused and rather groggy. Reaching up to rub your tired eyes, you feel the tug from the IV that's been injected into your arm. All at once it all comes back to you: the fall you took while cleaning out the gutters, smashing your head against the pavement below, and being in and out of consciousness while Harry rushed you to the hospital. Major surgery wasn't needed, just a resetting of your left arm, stitches on your forehead and cheek, and a scan to make sure that you didn't suffer any sort of brain damage. You glance out the window and notice that it's dark out, making you curious about the time and how long you've been out cold. "Well, look who's awake," Harry says, rising from his seat at the end of the bed and plopping himself down beside you. He reaches out and takes your hand in his own, relieved that you've finally opened your eyes. You're about to smile when a rather genius idea pops into your head. It's slightly cruel, but you can't help yourself, realizing that you might never get another chance like this again. With wide and confused eyes, you retract your hand from him. "Who are you?" You ask, watching in sheer amusement as he turns white, panic washing over his face as his eyes widen in horror. You don't think you've ever seen him so distraught. Breaking character you smile, unable to carry on your joke in fear that your boyfriend might have an aneurism. "I'm just kidding, I know who you are, I'm so sorry," You say in between fits of laughter, finding the dry and unamused look he's giving you absolutely hysterical. At least you think you're funny.
Liam: Your eyelids flutter open, allowing you to take in your surroundings. You're in a tiny white room, seated in a dentist's chair of all places, and your mouth is throbbing. You don't think you've ever been in this much pain. All you can taste is blood and you feel foggy and light, as if your brain is somehow floating and you're not entirely sure what's going on. "(Y/N)!" A voice says, pulling you out of your reverie, the sudden noise surprising you. A familiar face is standing in the doorway, a bemused smile on his lips as you stare at him, clearly confused and trying to figure out why you feel so out of it. "Liam?" You whine, squinting your eyes and absentmindedly reaching your hands out to touch him, "Liam, are you my doctor?" Your words are muffled by the excessive amount of cotton balls in your mouth to stop the bleeding. You think that you look like a chipmunk but you can't be certain that your assumption is correct, in fact, you're not even quite sure of your name at the moment. You hate this feeling, and you don't understand why your boyfriend is laughing at you. "Come on, love, let's get you home," He chuckles, easing you out of the dentist's chair and wrapping his arm around your waist, just in case you happen to tip over. He nods to the dentist and she waves her goodbye, smiling at you though you only gape at her. You're pretty sure that she said something to you, but you're too focused on figuring out how to make your feet work. You grip Liam's shirt in your fist, clutching onto him for dear life and mumbling something about how your shoes are broken and refuse to let you walk. You're literally making no sense, and Liam can't get enough of it. He's slightly disappointed that you only have to get your wisdom teeth out once in your life.
Louis: You start to come to, lazily blinking your eyes and instantly realizing that you're not at home in your own bed. As your senses come alive, you're blinded by the bright white of the hospital room and the disgusting stench of antiseptic. Glancing down at your arm you notice the IV, which makes your stomach churn. You hate needles more than anything. "What in God's name-" You start to say, your voice gravelly and hoarse, confused as to why you're even in a hospital in the first place. Across the room you notice a lump of grey sweatshirt and black jeans lying in two hospital chairs pulled together, a rather uncomfortable position from the looks of it. His chest rises and falls rhythmically as tiny snores slip out of his mouth, completely knocked out. "Lou?" You call out, desperate for him to see that you're awake so he can tell you just how long you've been here. A little bit louder, you try again, "Louis!" He suddenly jumps awake, noticeably disoriented as he groggily rubs his eyes and looks around the room. When he sees you, he practically sprints to your side, frantic and disheveled and very unlike Louis. He takes your hand into his own and bows his head at your side. "God, I was so worried," He whispers, drawing in a shaky breath and looking up at you, his eyes bloodshot and full of tears. You furrow your brows, earning a deep sigh from him when he sees that you don't understand. Bracing himself for the explanation, he scoots closer to you, almost as if he's afraid you're going to disappear. "There was a car accident," Louis explains softly, giving your tiny hand a gentle squeeze, "But you'll be just fine, a few broken ribs but other than that you're okay. I've been a nervous wreck on the other hand, but that's beside the point." He chuckles as bit as his own joke and you do too, immediately feeling the pain in your ribs. You wince and he stops laughing, a serious expression on his tired face. "You need to take it easy, alright? No arguments. I'm going to grab a nurse and have her check you out. Stay there," He orders sarcastically, as if you could even get up in the first place.
Niall: "Okay, be honest," You groan, covering your nose with your hands, embarrassed even though it's just your boyfriend in the hospital room with you, "How hideous am I?" You just got out of reconstructive surgery due to a deviated septum. It was becoming difficult for you to breathe through your nose, and Niall was sick and tired of your snoring, so you decided to finally do something about it. The surgery was quick and painless, but now your nose is all bandaged up and you feel like a mummy. He sighs and shimmies out of his jacket, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at you. He's been sitting in here all morning, waiting patiently until they brought you in and calming you down beforehand, and all through the surgery. You don't blame him for being a bit antsy to get out of this place. "I can't exactly tell you if you won't let me see your nose," He retorts, rolling his eyes and crossing the room to where you're seated on the hospital bed, eyes wide and nervous that he's going to make fun of you. "Come on," He says, motioning for you to move your hands, "Let me see." You mull it over in your head for a few moments, wondering if you'd be able to get away with avoiding him until the bandages can come off. Taking notice to the impatient look on his face, you decided against it and realize that you're probably better off just getting it over with now. Slowly you lower your hands from your face, squinting your eyes as you gage his reaction. A small smile tugs at his lips, and you instantly know that it's bad. "Don't laugh at me," You whine, hanging your head in shame and trying to shove him away from you. Completely disregarding your request, he bursts out laughing, fighting you off almost effortlessly. "Come on, stop it, stop it," He takes your face between both of his hands and forces you to look at him, "I think it's cute!" He lightly kisses your forehead, reassuring you that you he's always going to think you're adorable, no matter what you do to your face.
Zayn: "Right on time," Zayn remarks as you slowly open your eyes, feeling extremely dazed and disoriented. He's standing at the end of your bed, fiddling with one of the many arrangements of flowers that he's set up around the room for you. They're all your favorites, pink roses, and the aroma is heavenly. You love the way he never fails to go above and beyond for you, his number one priority being to let you know just how much he loves you. It was a rather simple surgery, the removal of your appendix, but still he hasn't left your side for one moment. His was the last face you saw before you went under the anesthesia, and now it's the first you see upon waking up. He's even gone as far as to take off time from tour rehearsals to take care of you at home. You're basically going to be helpless for at least a week, and he knows that you're going to need him around. Though you protested, vowing that you can do it on your own, he wasn't having it, and neither were the other boys. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, appreciation written all over your face as he seats himself beside you. He leans in and kisses your cheek, a sweet gesture that still causes your heart to race. When he pulls away, you shoot him a disapproving look. "You didn't have to do all this," You tell him, wincing as you try to reposition yourself in the bed. You're in a lot of pain, but having Zayn here to distract you makes it slightly bearable. You just wish that they could make hospital beds a bit more comfortable for the patients. "I know, I wanted to," He insists, brushing it off as if the twelve dozen roses aren't really that big of a deal. You feel so loved by him, so much that it's overwhelming. He does so much for you, and you wonder how you got so lucky to have him all to yourself.
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He Tweets a Picture of the Baby on Easter.

Harry:

@Harry_Styles: Happy Easter everyone. Here’s my daughter as a bunny. x

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Liam:

@Real_Liam_Payne: Little man is all dressed up for his first easter!! Off to Grandma and Grandpa’s! :)

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Louis:

@Louis_Tomlinson: “Why are there so many bunnies, Daddy?”

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Niall:

@NiallOfficial: Havin a blast with her today ! She found more eggs than me !

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Zayn:

@zaynmalik: Someone’s excited to see if the Easter Bunny came! Much love from me and the family! x

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One Direction in a Musical:

Zayn Malik as Phantom in Phantom of The Opera

Song: Music of the Night (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8Zci-3ZvYg)

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  “This is where you write?” You ask, trailing behind him and down the last couple of stairs into the basement of his home. Your mouth drops open as you take in the numerous instruments and papers strewn across the floor and on top of tables. He has Christmas lights hung around the room and candles all over the place, just waiting to be lit. It’s beautiful and peaceful, and place that you could see yourself never wanting to leave. He shyly nods, blushing a deep shade of red as he seats himself on the carpet, allowing you to explore his safe haven. You feel like you’ve just entered into the very depths of his heart and soul. This is where he goes when he’s sad, when he’s inspired, when he’s feeling alone, and he trusts you enough to take you here. This is special to him, and therefore it’s special to you. You begin to sift through some of his papers, most of them unfinished songs and miscellaneous lyrics that have yet to be put to music. You can’t help but be intrigued. “I mostly write at night,” He says quietly, nodding towards the stack that you’re working through, “That’s why a lot of those aren’t finished. I start them and then I fall asleep, and when I wake up, the idea’s gone.” You smile at him, finding his passion for music admirable. Placing the papers back on the table, you turn on your heel and plop yourself down beside him, lightly touching his arm. “Will you play something for me?” You say, loving the way the dim lighting in the room contours his already beautiful face. He’s so lovely, so dark and sensitive, and you’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Reaching behind him, he grabs one of his many guitars, setting it in his lap with a little twinkle in his eye. As he starts to softly sing, you feel yourself enter a dream-like state. His voice is like honey and you’re succumbing to his lullaby. He’s got you under his spell, and there’s no way for you to break it.

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One Direction in a Musical:

Niall Horan as Fiyero Tiggular in Wicked

Song: Dancing Through Life (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=of03sHr0O5I)

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  You’re walking through the courtyard of your university, thoroughly irritated and fed up with your day already. It’s only ten in the morning and you’ve already failed a test, dropped your coffee on your pants, and almost got hit by some blonde asshole in a Range Rover on the way back from class. You’ve never seen him before so you’re assuming he’s the new kid that everyone’s been gossiping about, some stuck up rich boy from who knows where. Eager to get back to your dorm, you breeze past your fellow students, grip held tight on your bag and a blank expression on your face. You don’t care for these people, you care about your studies. Suddenly you bump into someone, causing your books to spill onto the pavement. You swear under your breath and immediately bend over to pick them up, ignoring the snickers from the people surrounding you. A second pair of hands attempts to help but you swat them away, beyond annoyed with everyone and everything. “I got it,” You snap, looking up to see who exactly it is that bumped into you. You’re not exactly surprised to see the asshole from this morning, sporting a cocky smile on his lips that makes you want to smack him. He’s attractive, you’re not going to lie about that, but he’s not your type. Too pretty, and much too full of himself. With a scoff, you roll your eyes and stuff your books into your bag. “Is it your mission to piss me off today or something?” You ask, not really expecting an answer from him as you rise to your feet. He raises his eyebrows at you and chuckles, proving your assumption about him right. “Is everyone as friendly as you here?” He shoots back, earning more laughter from the gathering crowd. He seems to be one of those people that attract others, and in hoards too. Not about to deal with him, you brush past him and continue on your way. After a few seconds, he calls out after you, “It was a pleasure to meet you!” His sarcasm only annoys you more, and you can’t wait to get back to your room.

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One Direction in a Musical:

Louis Tomlinson as Clyde Barrow in Bonnie and Clyde

Song: Raise a Little Hell (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iOrEXEtG9_U)

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  You look around frantically searching for Louis, but only seeing empty cells. You don’t have much time and you can’t afford to get caught, not with him already in the slammer. You’re his only hope. “Sweetheart, over here,” He says, sticking his hand between the bars and gesturing for you to come closer. Relief washes over you at the familiar sound of his voice, pulling you towards him and making you forget all of the craziness of the past few days. The second you’re within reach, he places his hands on either side of your face and kisses you between the bars. “That’s my girl,” He whispers against your lips. God, you love him so much, every dangerous, twisted part of him. As he pulls away from you, he smirks, the same love written all over his face. “Did you bring it?” He asks, slowly brushing his thumb across your lipstick stained lips, something that he’s made a habit of doing. Suddenly remembering the reason you’re here, you grab your purse, reaching inside and grabbing his gun that he instructed you to bring. You quickly place it into his hands, praying that he knows what he’s doing. You don’t know what you’ll do if he ends up getting himself shot, or even worse killed. He hides it in the back of his pants, taking your hands between the bars and fixing his gaze on you. You swear you can see a hint of fear in his eyes, but you decide to ignore it. He knows what he’s doing, he promised. “I want you to wait at the Inn down the street for me, okay? I’ll come get you as soon as I’m out of here,” He orders, making sure that you grasp what he’s saying word for word. You simply cannot mess this up. Nodding your head, you let him know that you understand, however terrified you may be. You silently think to yourself that most girls would hate to be standing in your shoes, but you love him too much to regret any of it.

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One Direction in a Musical:

Liam Payne as Jack Kelly in Newsies

Song: Santa Fe (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2ycxixjLdo)

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  Liam bursts through the doors of his tiny, shoebox apartment, pulling at his hair and gritting his teeth. He’s livid, so beyond furious that the strike he organized was a complete bust and ended with his best friend beaten and apprehended. He feels as if his entire world is caving in, like he’s a failure. This is all his fault and he has no idea how to even begin to fix it. He runs his hands down his face and sighs, desperate to get out of this city and start over. He wants to go somewhere far away, to a place where he can forget about all of this. No more struggling for cash, no more working for men that he can’t stand, just freedom and happiness. He dreams of the day that he hop aboard a train that’s bound for town across the country, a change of scene so to speak. He’s not getting any younger, and he knows in his heart that if he doesn’t get out here soon, he probably never will. He’s trapped in this confined space day after day and it’s driving him insane. He makes his way to the window, cringing as the sound of car horns and sirens fill his ears. “I’ve got to start brand new,” He whispers to himself, leaning his head against the window pane. Maybe he’ll go to Houston, or Tampa. Hell, maybe he’ll even go to Santa Fe. He smiles a bit at the thought as his eyes catch the moon, big and white in the night sky, “Save my place, I’ll be there.”

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One Direction in a Musical:

Harry Styles as Marius Pontmercy in Les Miserables

Song: Empty Chairs At Empty Tables (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2yYVfU_pdA)

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   Harry limps into the empty venue, his curls pulled off of his face with a ratty old bandana and his body slumped over a single crutch. He winces, a stabbing pain shooting up his leg when he tries to put any weight on it. It’s such a struggle for him to do anything alone anymore, but he’s getting better. Every day he walks a stronger step, but it will be quite some time before he’s back to the way he used to be. He lowers himself into a seat in the second row, placing his crutch on the floor beside him. Lifting his gaze, he takes in the remnants of the tour: the leftover confetti, the empty red phone booths, microphone stands, and the water bottles strewn across the stage. He presses his lips into a thin line, trying his best to hold himself together. He can’t lose it now, not when he’s worked so hard to stay strong. If he allows himself to feel the pain, he might not be able to stop it. It’s only been two weeks since the accident, two weeks since his life was completely flipped upside down, and yet it feels like it was just yesterday. He can still hear the sound of his friends laughing and singing along to the radio, no idea that it would be the last time they would ever do so, or the last time he would ever hear their voices. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in a hospital and they were telling him that his four companions, the ones who have stood by his side for years, who helped him and lifted him up when he was down, did not make it. He closes his eyes and hangs his head, worn down and beaten by the denial of his own heartache. He lives and they are gone, and he doesn’t understand why.

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Anonymous :

Can I have a link to your masterlist?! I love your prefernces ☺️