#also just went through my camera roll to move photos into my album that's just my two idiots and there are.

[altruistic-meme]

unflattering photo for the cat who bullied me by sticking his whole ass tail in my mouth.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Where is My Husband (PT2)

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Ghost x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Fluff, a bit smutty, a bit emotional, kissing, language, married couple, remaking memories, flashbacks,

𖤐Recap: Ghost had unfortunately lost his memory after getting injured. He lost all memory of his wife Y/n, he lost 2 years worth of his memories. His wife tries to help him gain all those memories back of her into his mind.

𖤐 where-is-my-husband (pt1)

—————

—————

Ghost has been going to the physical therapist for about a week now, he’s definitely having trouble moving his arm a lot, the therapist told him not to lift anything heavy for a while at least not in till his feels more confident.

Y/n has also been going with him as well, he just wanted her to come so he could show her that he will be okay.

Y/n was driving them home from one of his appointments, he leaned back in the passenger seat head leaning on the window.

He didn't want to say it...but he felt very useless.

"How many more appointments?" Ghost asked.

"In till you feel comfortable and till you show some signs of improvement."

He groans. "This is annoying," he says.

He's definitely the same ol' Ghost from before leaving for the Military, no patience, and always grumpy.

"It's not annoying, Simon, you need to go so you can become healthy again and so your arm can move like it used to." She says, while pulling into the driveway.

They both got out, Ghost using his key to unlock the door, and both were greeted by Phantom, he meows loudly rubbing his head on Ghost's shin and pawing at Y/n's shoelaces.

She smiles bending down and picking up Phantom. He lets out some loud purrs and rested his head on Y/n's shoulder.

Ghost went to the kitchen to make himself some tea as Y/n followed behind. The doctor had said to keep an eye on him from lifting heavy things, he wasn't even allowed to carry a gallon of milk.

He opens the fridge and tries to grab the gallon of milk, but Y/n put Phantom on his cat tree and grabbed the milk for him.

He signs of annoyance, and looked at Y/n.

"I could have used my other arm."

"It's okay, Simon, I got it for you."

"Don't...I'm not thirsty anymore."

"Oh, stop it, Simon..." Y/n says.

Ghost just rolls his eyes and she set the milk down on the counter, Y/n looked at Ghost and smiled.

Ghost may hardly remember Y/n but he's slowly remembering that sweet smile of hers. Ghost stares at her and then wonders how did someone like her fall for someone like him?

--------

Y/n has to go to the store for groceries, she was getting her jacket on and zipping it up halfway. Simon looks over the couch and saw her getting her shoes on next.

"Y/n? Where are you going?"

"The store-OH! Would you like to come with? I figured you may not want to come but I should have asked instead of assuming."

"No, I'm fine, go on without me," he yawns and turns back to the TV. Y/n grabs her purse and walks to the couch, she leans over and kisses his cheek.

"I'll be back," she whispers and walked out of the house. Simon felt his cheeks heat up.

"Goddammit," Simon says.

Once she was gone, Simon stood up and wondered the house. He found some photo albums and started to look through them. He looked through one that was small, a light pink colored cover, the first photo he flips to was on Y/n on her back with a summer dress, she looks beautiful, it was like the one that sat behind the couch.

He flips to the next page seeing him sitting on a big rock looking at the river, he looked like he was in hiking gear, it must be a date and vacation photo album.

Going on he finds one of both of them in a hot tub together, his right hand held her waist, the other holds the camera, he was smiling but not one that showed his teeth just a small mouth smile, Y/n's arms wrapped around his neck, and she showed a bright smile. This must be an important date or vacation, he then noticed something.

The first photo of her on the picnic blanket her finger were bare but this one in the hot tub, her left ring finger held her wedding ring.

He proposed to her this day.

Flashback

Simon and Y/n had gone to the states and their vacation was in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Simon had rented out a cabin for a week, and in this week, Simon was nervous...he was going to propose to Y/n.

Y/n and Simon were in Gatlinburg enjoying the sights and hiking, it was Y/n's idea to go somewhere in the States, she hasn't been in a while and Ghost hasn't been to the States before.

Simon's left hand was in his pocket messing around with the small black velvet box in his pocket. Y/n was at a wine testing bar as Ghost was behind her, he was making sure she was okay and whatever she wanted Ghost was going to spoil her with whatever she wanted it was all about her this week no one else, not even himself.

She picked out two wines a classic white grape wine and a cotton candy flavored wine. Ghost had bought them for her. Ghost and Y/n were now shopping, Y/n wanted some souvenirs as Ghost just bought a keychain, it was of a black bear with Gatlinburg engraved in it.

They headed back to their cabin and Y/n really wanted to get the hot tub, she packed a swimsuit and Ghost had brought his swimming trunks. They both changed into their swimming gear and Ghost removed the cover on the hot tub and let Y/n go in first.

Then he got in, he sat across from Y/n, she was a little confused on why he was so far.

"Why are you all the way over there?" She asks.

"I...I'm not sure," he chuckles and moves closer to her. He put his arms on the side of the hot tub, one behind Y/n's head and the other was rubbing his fingers together. He looked over his shoulder and saw the black velvet box just peeking out from under his towel.

"What?" She asked, ready to turn around but he stopped her.

"Nothing, hey look at me," he says. She does and giggles at him.

"What?" She asks.

"Just...wanted to look at you that's all," he said, kissing her lips. His hands went to her cheeks and soon fell to her waist pulling her closer to him.

"S-Simon, why so sudden?"

"Why not?" He asks, kissing her some more and he stands up still kissing her and grabbing the black box. "Y/n?"

"Hmm~?" She hums, looking up at him.

"I umm~ I wanted to ask you something...something that's very important."

"Okay...ask away," she smiles.

"Well...when I met you, I was wondering how could someone like you end up with someone like me? How did I get so lucky to have someone like you in my life? Y/n...I want to keep having those thoughts, I've been holding this back for a while because I didn't know the right time, but I think now is the right time to ask," he shows her the black box and she immediately knew what was inside.

She covers her mouth with her hands and waited patiently to open it.

"Will...Will you make me the happiest man on Earth and..." he opens it to show off a beautiful ring. "Marry me?"

"Oh Simon, yes, yes, of course, I will," she hugs him tightly and he was smiling and hugging her back. He slides the ring on her finger and grabs her waist and pulls her closer to him, he other hand, held the camera and took a photo.

"I remember..." Ghost mumbles before flipping to the next photo.

The photo was a bit...scandalous...it was of Y/n, and it was her on the bed, sitting on her knees in some white lingerie, her straps had fallen down and her bra was undone but she held it against her chest to cover herself.

He chuckles and shakes his head.

Next, she was feeding a buffalo at a Zoo they went to, she looked so happy, he could see the ring in the photo, it made him smile even more at the thought of her.

Ghost remembers a random time that just randomly popped in his head. It was of him, and Y/n just lying in bed and talked for a little bit, he doesn't remember the conversation or anything it was just random.

He places the book down and grabbed another album. It was the wedding one, it was white and in big letters in cursive saying 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒲ℯ𝒹𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 ℴ𝒻 𝒮𝒾𝓂ℴ𝓃 ℛ𝒾𝓁ℯ𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒴／𝓃 ℒ／𝓃.

The first page the picture was of Y/n getting ready, curlers in her hair, eye masks under her eyes, and she was drinking from a coffee cup while his guess her mom was behind her with her hands on her shoulders.

He turns the page and saw him and his friends smiling at the camera and holding glasses full of liquor, none of them were ready, Simon's shirt was unbuttoned, and his belt was undone.

"What are you looking at?" He heard Y/n's soft voice.

"...Memories," he said, holding up the album.

"Oh...yeah," she places the groceries away and went to the couch sitting next to him as he turns the page.

"What was happening here?" Ghost asked, but he probably knows what's happening.

"Well, Soap had a few too many drinks and wouldn't stop laughing, so Price tried to get him to stop by covering his mouth, but everyone was having fun," she says.

Ghost looks at Y/n's finger seeing the ring.

"I remember how I proposed to you."

She seemed shocked he remembered.

"HUH! Really?!"

"Yeah...we were in Gatlinburg and we both where in the hot tub together and I proposed," she cups his face.

"You remember?"

"Yeah~" he sounded confused maybe he was wrong?

"Oh my god," she hugs him tightly and he hugs her back.

"But...I still don't remember much," he says.

"I understand," she says.

They kept going through the photo albums and he was smiling at the wedding and then Y/n grabbed another vacation album.

"This was us at Bora Bora for our honeymoon," she says.

"Is that-"

"Yeah~" There was a photo Ghost flipped to and it was of Y/n in the water...naked. Ghost looked at her and her face was red, she was embarrassed.

"I mean we were in our own private area, so it didn't matter, but you WANTED a phot after I said no, so many times," she giggles. "We don't show this album a whole lot because of...some of the photos," she confesses.

"I can see why," he flips the page and saw where he was laying in the bed completely bare, and the white sheet rested on his lower half, but you could see his v-line. "I wonder who took this photo?" He says chuckling.

"You took so many of me, I thought I should do some," she says giving him an awkward smile.

The next one was both of them in bed together, Ghost's legs pushed open hers as she laid on her back and covered her red face.

"Did we?"

"We did...you were so adamite on taking a picture of me after doing it," she acted shy.

Most of the photos in this album was always them naked in some way or Ghost embarrassing Y/n, in a good way.

Y/n put the album away and looked at him if he wanted to look at more photo albums or if they wanted to talk about memories instead.

-------

Y/n had made tea for the both of them, as Ghost asked questions and Y/n would answer them.

"Did we ever talk about having kids?"

"A couple of times, but we also talked about how we should be prepared, and finically stabled before we have any," she says.

"I see...when did we move in together?"

"A year after we started dating."

"How did we meet?" He asks.

"We met by Soap and Price, I was Price's friend, and we went to his party together and Soap and him set us up together, we started hanging out, then you asked if we could date, and I said yes."

"Wow Soap was useful for something," he jokes, and Y/n playfully pushed him giggling.

Phantom plopped himself on Ghost's lap and Ghost pets his head as he kept asking questions.

"Do you ever miss me when I was gone?"

"Every time and every day, I will always miss you," she says.

Ghost stares at Y/n as she pets Phantom's head and heard him purring, Simon's and Y/ns hands grazed each other, and she looks up at him.

"I want to...want to kiss you..." he confesses.

"You're allowed to...I am your wife," she reminded him. He moves forward and Phantom jumps from his lap as Ghost cups her face pulling her closer.

His lips landed on hers. She moans into the kiss; his hands went to her waist, and he mumbles in between the kissing.

"You are so beautiful *kiss* gorgeous *kiss* incredible *kiss* and my *kiss* very cute *kiss* sexy *kiss* hot *kiss* wife." He says. He pulls away and looks into her eyes.

Her face was red and bright, she was embarrassed but is also glad he is remembering her.

"S-Simon."

"God...I love you...my wife, my wife, my wife," he repeats and kisses her again.

---Tags---

@ash-tarte

@thisisaphrodite

@mrflyingbanana03

[nerdgirlriot]

Green Dayyyyy

Going to live events was never really my THING but Green Day being one of my favorite bands on this planet, I will move heaven and earth to see them live.

Anyway, adventure chronicled after the cut:

BART'ed into the city from the East Bay. Our transit system has gotten a bad rep over the years since COVID but the few times I've had to use it, I've never had any issues or weird interactions or anything. I'm probably too nondescript to be bothered with lol

Anyway went with my partner of 25 years who is also a massive Green Day fan (I wouldn't be with him if he wasn't tbh lol), and we managed to navigate to Oracle Park without getting lost, even though I was kinda worried that we'd gotten on the wrong MUNI train but we got to the stadium easily

I'm not a baseball fan so I've never been to Oracle before (and I didn't go to the Hella Mega Tour with Green Day, Weezer, and Fall Out Boy because I was still anxious about COVID) but it's a really nice stadium! And even though the A's are the East Bay team, the whole rigomarole and bullshit about moving the team to Vegas kinda soured me on the A's. But I will be a fair-weather Giants fan, sure. But yeah, Oracle (or AT&T Park as it was known for a while) is a great stadium. And the staff were all cool and helpful and friendly and a lot of them were also excited for the concert.

As soon as we got through the gates, I knew I wanted to get some merch. So I got a Saviors Tour shirt and one for the Linda Lindas too. And I picked up a patch because I'd heard that the patches were specific to each city and the one of San Francisco is pretty simple, but I kinda like it that way?

We got seats on the club level (because I am smol and old and I would not survive in the pit or floor) but I didn't realize how nice it was. Easy access to lots of food and more importantly, bathrooms. We passed by a ton of conssessions options getting to our seats, but we got garlic fries for a snack before the show. And then during the show, (right before Smashing Pumpkins took the stage) I hurried off to get pizza. The counter is run by Tony's Pizza (which is kind of a Bay Area thing, and one of my favorite pizzarias in our area).

And then Green Day happened and everything else is kind of a blur...

They played Dookie AND American Idiot in their entireties and along with some songs from their newest album Saviors (and also Minority and a few others). It was clear that Billie's voice was kind of faltering near the end, but he still had energy and passion and he was powering through it all because it was the homecoming show.

I also think the venue was the best venue because you could see San Francisco Bay and the fog rolling through made it so surreal and magical. Like...when the spotlights shot through that lingering fog and smoke from the pyrotechnics and became shafts of pure light shooting across the crowd

and idk about anyone else but Death of St. Jimmy hits SO MUCH HARDER when you're hearing "he blew his brains out into the Bay" and that's the fucking Bay, that's the Bay, right there. It's the Bay in the song. You can fucking see the fucking Bay. aldkjalsjdlsjkl lsdkjalksd

I sang along and so many other people did too and it was a fantastic experience, almost transcendent and i guess that's the power of live music and an energized crowd

I was trying not take too many photos and videos and just live in the moment but I did get some videos of the crowd when they had all their camera flashlights on and it turned out kinda magical

Had a bit of a walk trying to get back to BART because I didn't want to wait for the next Metro train (which would've taken 20 minutes and walking back to the BART station took less than that) and again, the BART ride back home was uneventful and actually pretty comfortable because I'm still enthused about the new traincars

honestly taking BART to the city and seeing Green Day is probably one of the most Bay Area things to do and I'm so happy that I've gotten to do this both at Oakland and now in San Francisco

i thought Billie roasting Vegas for stealing Oakland's sportsball teams was great and also a little ???? because hey, Vegas is where his very public rant/meltdown happened during that late I Heart Radio Festival set and then he went to rehab soon after so yeah...nothing good happens in Vegas :P

I'll be carrying the memories of last night for the rest of my life

some photos:

View from our club level seats. I was a little worried because Ticketmaster for some reason put in "Obstructed View" on our tickets after I'd bought them but the only obstruction was one of the speaker towers and honestly it wasn't much of an issue because I could still see the screens and most of the stage:

The poles at the stadium had Dookie & American Idiot flags, along with a Saviors tour flag, and also here's a view of the Bay:

The Linda Lindas were greattttt

[blu-joons]

When They Come Home And Find You Asleep On The Sofa ~ The Boyz Reaction

Sangyeon:

As soon as he saw you laid out across the sofa, Sangyeon’s serious side came out, approaching you quickly to try and move your body into a more comfortable position.

“You’re going to regret this in the morning,” he frowned, relaxing your limbs so they sat properly.

Under Sangyeon’s movement, your inquisitive eyes soon opened to see what was going on. “What are you doing?” You asked as his hands moved your leg up to the sofa.

“I’m taking care of you,” he smiled widely, tapping against your leg before letting go. “I can already predict that you’re going to be crying out for a massage in the morning.”

“What about now? My back feels like it’s been kicked to pieces.”

As angry as he was, Sangyeon couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why do you always do this to yourself?”

“I wanted to see you,” you mused, turning so that you were laying on your back, only to feel Sangyeon’s hands began to attack the small of it. “I was only joking about the massage.”

His head shook, ignoring what you had to say, “I know your back is hurting you, your face always gives it a way. Just a quick one, and then I’ll take you to actual bed.”

“You’re too good to me,” you complimented, pursing your lips together at the relief you felt under Sangyeon’s touch, running gently along the length of your back.

“You tried to stay up for me, this is the least I could do.”

Jacob:

The moment his eyes fell on you, his heart stopped, covering his mouth with his hand as a soft coo escaped at the way you snuggled up to one of the sofa cushions.

“Well, this is quite the dilemma,” he muttered, trying to figure out what to do with you on the sofa.

Jacob took a few steps forwards, moving a second cushion to your side for you to rest on. “I know how horrible you get whenever you get woken up from a nap.”

“But on the other hand, I know you’ll be angry at me tomorrow when all your bones hurt,” he sighed, “you’ve really left me in the middle of a losing battle.”

“Your too sleepy to even care about that though, aren’t you?”

His eyes looked to you once he’d finished rearranging. “Before you hate me, just know I love you.”

“Actually, I do love you a lot,” he continued to mumble, deciding to take a seat on the floor just beside your head. “I proper don’t tell you that enough really.”

His hand then moved across to run over the top of your head, “I hate seeing you sleep, because your so quiet, but it’s god to know that you’re getting rest too.”

“I should probably rest too,” he continued to chatter, staring at your sleeping figure, “but now I face the dilemma of deciding where to sleep too.”

“Jacob, do you plan on letting me get any sleep tonight?”

Younghoon:

His arms swept you up in an instant as Younghoon walked in to find you asleep on the sofa, keen to get you comfortable in bed as quickly as he possibly could.

“I keep telling you not to wait up for me,” he scolded, carrying you carefully up the stairs to bed.

As he reached the final step, your body slowly began to stir in his hold. “Hoon?” You muttered, moving your hand to rest against his chest, confirming it was him.

“Don’t worry, go back to sleep,” he simply assured you as he turned into your bedroom, “I wish you would’ve come straight up here when you started to get tired down there.”

“I wanted to stay up and see you, make sure you were alright.”

A gentle chuckle escaped him, “I’m alright, glad to be home and back with you at least now.”

“Tell me about your day,” you requested as you felt him lay your figure down on the bed, still unable to bring your eyes to open. “I want to hear all about it.”

Once he was sure you were settled, Younghoon stepped away, changing his shirt. “I promise I’ll tell you all about it in the morning when you’re a little more awake and attentive.”

“Give me a minute and I can wake up,” you called out, but the feeling of the duvet being thrown over your body quickly silenced you once again.

“Sleep, my stories can wait until tomorrow.”

Hyunjae:

As he knelt beside your face, Jaehyun couldn’t help but pull his phone out, knowing this was the perfect weapon to use against you at some point when he needed it.

“So cute,” he whispered as he opened up his camera, hearing you yelp as he pressed to snap.

Your hands covered your eyes as Jaehyun’s flash went off, noticing his wide eyes as he realised what had happened. “Please tell me you didn’t just take a photo of me.”

“I thought you looked cute, but also thought my flash wasn’t on either,” he confessed, quickly hiding his phone out of your reach, “your awake now anyway.”

“If I wasn’t so tired right now, I would beat you up for that.”

His head shook, resting his hand over yours. “How come you couldn’t stay up tonight for me?”

“I’m knackered,” you confessed, not even trying to be subtle. “My boss had been running around doing so much paperwork, if I even see a book, I’m going to lose my mind.”

He leant forwards pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose, “shall I carry you up to bed? At least you can get some proper rest up there?”

“As long as you do everything, I’m far too tired to move,” you requested of him, “and that includes deleting that picture that you just tried to take of me too.”

“Damn, I was hoping that would go in the payback album.”

Juyeon:

His heart skipped a beat as he walked in to see the ending screen of the stream of the concert still on your phone, with it dropped to the floor by the sofa.

“How did I know you’d be watching,” he smiled, picking your phone up and checking over it.

His hand pressed against your forehead, brushing the hair out of your face. As he did, a small hum came from you in response to his presence in the room with you.

“How are you doing?” He asked as you slowly came round, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “I hope you didn’t fall asleep before our stage came on?”

“No, I managed to stay awake to at least watch that bit.”

His head shook at how exhausted you were, “shall I ask what you thought, or are you too tired?”

“It’s fine,” you whispered, slowly sitting yourself up to make room for Juyeon to sit beside you. “But you know that I’m always a big fan of all your shows anyway, that never changes.”

He carefully sat down, giving you the space that you needed to wake yourself up properly. “I’m glad you enjoyed the stage; you didn’t need to watch it though.”

“It doesn’t matter how tired I get, I always want to stay up and watch you perform,” you quickly assured him, “I am your biggest fan after all, remember?”

“Of course, how could I ever forget that?”

Kevin:

His smile grew as soon as he spotted you with your head resting into his jumper that he’d thrown on the sofa just before he left the house earlier that day.

“I knew you’d try and steal it,” he joked, taking a few steps closer to see you were in fact asleep.

He couldn’t believe it, sitting down beside your figure. “Your too stubborn for your own good,” he scolded, falling silent as your body shuffled and your eyes slowly opened.

“How dare you,” you spoke up, letting him know that you’d heard every word that he had to say to you. “I thought I’d be nice and stay up, and this is the thanks I get.”

“Well, you’ve hardly stayed up, have you? You were fast asleep.”

Your hand reached out to push gently against his chest, “it’s the thought that counts, so be quiet.”

“Now that I’m home, and your awake, shall we head up to bed?” Kevin suggested, but your head shook, gripping tighter onto his comfortable jumper that you’d been using for some time.”

Your hand hit him yet again as his eyes rolled. “You must be exhausted too, maybe we should just camp out on the sofa for the night,” you proposed, “you look a state.”

“Thanks a lot,” he teased, knowing that you were messing with him, “do I at least get my jumper to sleep with in case I get a little bit cold through the night.”

“No, this is mine now, you’re going to have to find another.”

New:

His arm snaked around your waist as Chanhee made himself comfortable behind your figure on the sofa. For a few moments, he managed to sleep, until you began to wake up.

“Chan?” You whispered, waiting until he hummed to know he was awake. “You can’t sleep here>”

His head shook back at you, “I can. You looked far too peaceful to even try and disturb you, and there was no way I was going to sleep upstairs knowing you were here.”

“But your body,” you whined, feeling the grip that he had wrapped around you tighten. “You’ll be in pieces tomorrow, and that’ll be all my fault too.”

“I decided to sleep on the sofa Y/N, none of this is your fault.”

Your eyes rolled at how argumentative he was, “let’s go up to bed at least now we’re both awake.”

“No,” he chuckled, making sure that you stayed where you were. “You’re comfortable, and so the last thing I want to do right now is even try and move you up from the sofa.”

Another groan escaped from you, “just know, when you show up at the studio tomorrow morning all sore, I am taking zero responsibility for all your aches and pains.”

“Deal,” he teased, pressing a kiss against the back of your head. “Now, close your eyes back up and get some rest, you need your beauty sleep for tomorrow.”

“As long as you get some rest too, and try not to hurt too much tomorrow.”

Q:

Just as Changmin took a step back, convinced that he’d managed to get you up to bed without waking you up, your eyes fluttered open, surprised as to where you were.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, just about managing to register that Changmin was there.

He moved back towards you, taking a tight hold of your hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I just knew how mad you’d be if I left you on the sofa all night long.”

“I’m glad you moved me,” you assured him, moving along the bed to make space for him to sit beside you. “I’m just sorry that I didn’t stay awake to greet you.”

“I did notice the coffee mugs on the table, you must’ve tried hard.”

Your head nodded back at him, “you’re lucky I’m not on cloud nine right now with all that caffeine.”

“If you stay awake for much longer, you just might be,” he warned you, “go back to sleep if you want, I just need to wash up and then I’ll come and join you to rest.”

Your head nodded, reluctantly letting your hand slip out of yours. “Don’t be too long though, I don’t want to fall asleep on you again without saying goodnight.”

“You won’t even know I’m gone,” he grinned, rushing across into the adjoining bathroom whilst you made yourself more comfortable in bed.

“I can already feel myself getting sleepy, get a wriggle on.”

Juhaknyeon:

He couldn’t believe what he saw before him as he walked into the apartment, spotting your figure curled up into a ball on the sofa, light snores escaping.

“How?” Was all Haknyeon could say as he walked further in, inspecting just how sleepy you were.

After texting just fifteen minutes ago to let you know that he was on his way home, you’d somehow managed to drift off to sleep, unaware of him even entering the house.

“Y/N,” he whispered, gently shaking your shoulder to try and wake you up. As you stirred, his voice spoke up once again, “I thought you’d be excited to have me home.”

“I was, I am, I told myself I’d only shut my eyes for thirty seconds.”

Your voice was groggy, widening the smile on his face. “You shouldn’t have waited in that case.”

“I promised when you left the house this morning that I’d wait up for,” you sighed, quickly covering your mouth as a yawn escaped, “I kind of kept to that promise too.”

His eyes rolled, stepping forwards to press a kiss to the top of your head, “you tried your best, and I appreciate that, even though you didn’t need to in this state.”

“I’m not that tired,” you whined, trying to sit yourself up, only for your body to fall straight back down, “but can we go to bed, because you probably need the rest?”

“Of course, but secretly, I know you need the rest too.”

Sunwoo:

Tired arms wrapped around your tired figure, careful with every movement as Sunwoo carried you off of the sofa, glancing across at the clock with a sigh.

“If you didn’t look so cute, I’d be mad right now,” he giggled to himself, admiring your sleeping face.

Yet, as he went to spin away from the sofa, the sound of your voice broke him from his thoughts. “Your home?” You questioned, instantly picking up on Sunwoo’s voice.

“I’m home,” he established, carrying on with his walk towards your bedroom. “Go back to sleep, I promise I’ll have you laying back down in a minute, back with your dreams.”

“You broke my dream; I was dreaming of you and I as well.”

Sunwoo was thankful you couldn’t see the red glow on his cheeks, “I’m sure you can go back to it.”

“Why?” You whispered, snuggling tightly into his chest as he walked, “I have you here now, I don’t need to dream about you anymore.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your tired voice, “you can have the real thing tomorrow, but your tired, and as hard as it is to say no to you, I know that rest is the most important thing right now.”

“I guess I’ll dream of you for now instead,” you responded, scrunching your eyes tightly shut. Sunwoo’s head nodded, smile wide at your expression.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of sweet dreams of me.”

Eric:

As he walked into your apartment to hear the television still playing, Youngjae was excited to see you, until he noticed you fast asleep, laid out on the sofa.

“One day you won’t fall asleep watching this drama,” he chuckled, grabbing the remote to pause it.

As the room fell silent, he reached across to pull a blanket off the back of the sofa. “At least look after yourself if you’re going to fall asleep before I get home too.”

“I was watching that,” your voice suddenly mumbled, stirring at the feeling of the material draped over your body. “Why did you turn it off, it was getting to a good bit.”

“Don’t even try and convince me that you were awake then.”

Your eyes slowly opened, staring up at Youngjae. “I closed my eyes for a couple of minutes, I swear.”

“Such a liar,” he scoffed, refusing to believe a word that you said. “If I asked you to tell me one thing that happened in that episode, would you be able to tell me?”

You paused for a moment, but as you thought back, your memory failed you. “Alright, so maybe I was asleep for a while, but only because I was waiting for you.”

“Which I always tell you not to do,” he smiled, kneeling down beside you, “you’ll hurt yourself one day falling asleep on the sofa like this, waiting up all night.”

“It would be worth it though to see you.”

---

Masterlist

[antebunny]

Parent Trap AU

...with a side of on-the-run hacker!wwx AU, and celebrity!lwj AU. Full series here.

-

In the end, all the chaos starts because Lan Jingyi gets offended.

“What do you mean you haven’t heard of my uncle?” Lan Jingyi demands. 

He glares down at Wei Sizhui from the top bunk. Lan Jingyi and the other two boys in Wei Sizhui’s cabin got into a fight over who would get the top bunks, and after several heated rounds of rock-paper-scissors, they went to Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen.

“Stop shouting!” Jin Rulan yells from the other side of the room. He yanks his headphones off and directs his own glare at Lan Jingyi, who scowls back.

“He said he hasn’t heard of Hanguang-jun!” Lan Jingyi yells right back.

Jin Rulan frowns. “The singer? So?”

“I’m sorry,” Wei Sizhui interrupts, before they can get into a fight. “My dad and I travel a lot, so I’ve never stuck around in one place long enough…”

Lan Jingyi frowns, this time with suspicion. “What does your dad do?”

“Uh.”

He’s a genius-level hacker wanted for a felony he didn’t commit and he’s been on the run from at least two organizations for the past nine years.

“…He’s a computer engineer.”

“Really?” Ouyang Zizhen perks up from his top bunk. Wei Sizhui knows vaguely that he likes graphic design. “That’s so cool.”

Wei Sizhui smiles weakly. “Yeah. Um.” He tries not to panic thinking about what to say if anyone asks him any more questions about his dad’s job.

Lan Jingyi flounders for only a second. “Still,” he insists. “You guys have heard of him, right?” When Jin Rulan and Ouyang Zizhen both nod, he points his iPhone victoriously at Wei Sizhui. “See?! He’s famous!”

Wei Sizhui shrugs helplessly. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t heard of Hanguang-jun. He suspects that it’s because he moves around so much, he’s never really had the chance to make friends, so all the music he knows is the music his dad listens to. Wei Sizhui knows his dad is doing his best, but sometimes it’s unbearably lonely.

Which is why he’s at this summer camp in the first place. His dad pulled a lot of strings (read: committed a lot of forgery) so that he could make friends. And now it seems he’s already made a mistake in not knowing Lan Jingyi’s (“Well, he’s not really my uncle, but we’re related…somehow”) uncle. 

“But you’ve at least heard his songs,” Lan Jingyi insists. “Like, uh.” He clears his throat, then shoots a look at Jin Rulan, cheeks flushing. “Our Vow? Water Under The Bridge? I Promise? Someone Like You? At First Sight?” He shakes his head in disappointment when Wei Sizhui just continues staring at him blankly. 

“Wait, I’m pulling it up on Spotify,” Ouyang Zizhen chimes in. He rolls over onto his stomach and fishes his phone out of his pocket.

“I can’t believe this,” Lan Jingyi says, still shaking his head. “You’ve at least heard the chorus of Under Moonlight. There’s no way you haven’t.” He clears his throat again, and then clearly chickens out again.

“Go ahead, sing it,” Jin Rulan says, smirking.

Lan Jingyi glares at him, then a thought brightens his face. “Maybe you’ll recognize him!” He whips out his phone and starts typing furiously.

Wei Sizhui opens his mouth to protest, seeing no reason why he would recognize the singer’s face but not their voice, but he’s too late. Lan Jingyi is already clambering down the ladder, and proudly presenting the Google Image results for “Hanguang-jun.” Then Wei Sizhui’s mouth, despite not being closed, really falls open.

“I know him,” he blurts.

“So you do recognize him,” Lan Jingyi says, pleased.

“No, I…” Wei Sizhui stutters. 

Now it’s his turn to fumble for his phone. He opens Photos and taps on Albums, then opens Favorites. At the top, timestapped April 5, 2010, is one of the only photos Wei Sizhui has of his dad. His dad hates being caught on camera, for obvious reasons. Still, Wei Sizhui doesn’t hesitate to open the photo and show it to Lan Jingyi.

Lan Jingyi cranes his neck to peer over Wei Sizhui’s shoulder, and his mouth falls open too.

The photo is a still image of two people. On the left is Wei Wuxian, Wei Sizhui’s adopted dad. He’s dressed in a sharp black suit, a red flower tucked into the right breast pocket. He’s throwing up peace signs for the camera. His arms are draped around the other person from behind, and his smile is blinding. 

The other person is clearly Lan Jingyi’s uncle, Hanguang-jun. The man has the same striking face, the same light brown eyes. He’s dressed in an all-white suit, save for the light blue flower tucked similarly into a pocket. He has the same ribbon wrapped around his wrist. The main difference between the Google Images that Lan Jingyi pulled up and the photo that Wei Sizhui has is that in Sizhui’s, Hanguang-jun is smiling softly.

It’s a wedding photo.

“No way,” Lan Jingyi breathes. “I recognize that guy! My uncle carries around a picture of him in his wallet!”

“Wait, really?” Jin Rulan perks up at this bit of drama, taking his headphones off completely. 

Ouyang Zizhen also perks up, abandoning his quest to find Hanguang-jun’s music. He slides down his ladder, colliding with Jin Rulan’s attempts to get out of his bed. After minimal cursing, both boys make their way to Wei Sizhui’s bed, where Lan Jingyi is still gaping at the photo.

“Wait, that really is Hanguang-jun,” Ouyang Zizhen says. “I guess your dad met him, Sizhui?”

“Oh my god,” Jin Rulan says at the same time. “That’s my uncle.”

This time Jin Rulan is the one to pull out his phone. He scrolls through his videos until he gets to the very beginning, narrating as he goes. “It’s the only video I have of my uncle,” he explains. “My uncle–I mean, my mom’s other brother–doesn’t like to talk about him, because he went to jail like a decade ago–”

At this, Wei Sizhui winces, suddenly remembering why he’s not supposed to talk about his dad with other people. 

“–But my mom does, and she sent this to me,” Jin Rulan finishes.

Finally, he finds the right video, and opens it.

The video was filmed on a 2010’s iPhone, so the video quality is poor. Still, the audio is clear enough when the camera is turned around to view the filmer. The man taking the video has a half-fond, half-exasperated scowl on his face. He’s wearing a violently purple sweater, under which the collar of a black shirt peeks out.

“He’s going to break his legs before I have a chance to break them for him,” the man says, rolling his eyes. “Look.” 

The camera is flipped around, showcasing a staircase and Wei Wuxian, leaning over the railing. Wei Wuxian looks back and grins at the camera. 

“It’s going to work, just you wait,” Wei Wuxian says. 

“I’m going to watch you break your legs,” the man says again.

“Aw, Jiang Cheng, have a little faith,” Wei Wuxian retorts. He leans over the railing again. “Wait, shh! He’s coming!”

Jiang Cheng dutifully falls silent, as Wei Wuxian leans further and further over the railing. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian shouts, and then he jumps over the railing.

Jiang Cheng starts running to the stairs, and any and all sounds are drowned out by the background wind noise of the man running. When he stops, he points the camera over the stairs. 

There’s a scattering of books across the hardwood floor, and a man in white, whose face is obscured by Wei Wuxian, held in his arms. Wei Wuxian wraps his arms around the man's neck and twists to look up at the camera. 

“I told you he’d catch me!” Wei Wuxian shouts victoriously.

“You made him drop all his books!” Jiang Cheng shouts back, from behind the camera. 

The camera is flipped back to Jiang Cheng, who’s still rolling his eyes. “Somehow this is my dumbest brother-in-law,” he says. 

“Jiang Cheng, don’t be jealous!” Wei Wuxian shouts from the other floor. “We’ll find you someone one day!”

Jiang Cheng’s face colors purple, and the video ends.

The four boys are silent for a moment.

“So that was Hanguang-jun?” Ouyang Zizhen says, after their moment of silence is over.

“I guess so,” Jin Rulan says. 

“You’re telling me my uncle and your dad were married?” Lan Jingyi demands.

“And he went to jail?” Ouyang Zizhen adds. “Sizhui, what happened there?”

Jin Rulan wrinkles his nose. “Why does your uncle still carry around a photo of him if they split up?”

“Why did they split up?” Lan Jingyi asks. “Was it the jail thing?”

“Seriously, what did he go to jail for?” Ouyang Zizhen asks.

In eerie unison, all three boys put down their phones and look at Wei Sizhui expectantly.

Two weeks into summer camp, and Wei Sizhui has already made his first three friends, and blown his dad’s cover. He’ll be wanted by the FBI after this, for identity forgery, if they aren’t already–Wei Sizhui isn’t entirely clear, and his dad doesn’t clarify.

Wei Sizhui smiles nervously.

“Who did you say your dad was again?” Lan Jingyi asks.

[eremiie]

gone for too long;

❥ in which you’ve been gone way too long for eren’s liking.

❥ 2.8k words | nsfw | modern au

❥ content: phone sex, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, i think that’s it

eren rolled over on his navy sheets. he was tired of switching back and forth between the same three apps, constantly checking for new notifications besides the ones from his group chat that kept blowing his phone up.

he missed his girlfriend. he missed your presence being next to him when he woke up and he missed cuddling into you on early mornings. the only company he had now was the dim light being let in through his sheer curtains.

he went to his camera roll and clicked on his photo album of you, scrolling through numerous times; like when the two of you had went to the movies together, he remembered the aftermath, the two of you getting riled up in a taxi and you forced him to tip the driver extra. he also remembered the plethora of dirty photos you'd send to him when he would ask, of course this wasn't a normal occurrence but definitely when the two of you were feeling it.

he contemplated calling your phone despite knowing you were away for a trip with some of your closest friends but he didn't want to bother you, yet his own issue was getting the best of him, the constant tossing and turning, the constant adjusting his sweats, and the constant aching pain he wanted to relieve so bad.

i mean, your contact was right there. he was scrolling through your messages a variety of text messages and share photos sent back and forth, the last time the two of you texted being the day you left for the trip and he wouldn't stop blowing your phone up with how much he missed you; the days after that he resorted to calling you instead.

maybe he should text you first?

okay, okay, he'll text you first, and if you're not busy then he'll call you; if you can't talk then he'll try to handle his own.

10:34pm

Baby you up?

yeah ofc, i’m on a trip

I miss you☹️

imyt bby, wyd?

No

Like i miss you

bye

eren chuckles at your response, a smile on his face forming at the response time of your texts.

10:37pm

Ok no fr, can we ft, wanna see your pretty face

u sure it’s just my pretty face you wanna see?

Nah

Now answer baby

eren couldn't help but smile to himself as he clicked your contact name, the facetime call ringing one, two, then three times before you picked up, your voice after so long sounding like a melody to his ears.

"hello?" your voice came through the line and from where you were sitting on the couch, pieck's legs sitting comfortably on your lap and the heads of sasha and historia whipping towards you, ymir not caring enough to look up from historia's phone.

"hey baby, how are you?" eren asked, his face not in the camera while his hand sliding left to right on his lower abdomen as he spoke to you.

your eyes flickered to your friends, a sly grin on historia's face at the sound of eren's low voice on the other end of the line.

you and your friends decided that it would be nice to go on a small trip, residing in an air bnb while you all traveled together. it was hard to convince eren to let you go, him saying that "he'll miss you," and "you'll be gone for too long", but when you told him you'd keep in contact with him everyday he reluctantly let you go, of course with a pout. you wouldn't be back for a couple more days as you had a couple more places to sightsee with the girls.

"i'm good, how are you?"

"i'm fine... i just miss you..." eren mumbled, adjusting himself in his position, bringing his hand up to his chest then back down to his stomach, feeling the ripples of his abs from under his palm.

sasha threw her head back and huffed a breath. "i wish connie call me like that!" she turned over to her stomach from on the couch and grabbed her phone, you, pieck and historia chuckling.

"i miss you too, i'll be back soon though."

"but baby soon is not soon enough, i want you here with me." he pouted, his hand smoothing down to his crotch while he stared at you, you looking down at the camera. "i want you beside me, 'm tired of going to sleep by myself."

you pressed the volume down on your phone a couple times. when pieck opened her eyes, her dark irises shifted towards you with a raise of her eyebrow. she could read your mind; her legs sliding off your lap more towards her body, and her eyes closing again. "go on." she smiled.

you shook your head after her trying to hide your mere embarrassment before getting up from the couch with a soft "eren!" to warn her that you were in front of your friends. "i'll be back guys..." you made your way towards the staircase of the rented house while eren continued to talk to you.

"what? i'm so serious babe. it's been so long, i just want to feel you against me." he whined. at some point his hand made its way into his sweatpants, him now palming himself over his black boxers. "where are you?"

you opened the door to the room you share with pieck and sasha, getting on your bed and turning over to face eren, half of his face finally in the camera. you could tell he hadn't woken up too long ago, almost all of his hair falling out of his ponytail, frizzy pieces framing his face and around his head like a halo, although it was kind of hard to see with how dark it was in his room. "well now i'm in the room i'm sleeping in... the owners had two rooms so i took one with pieck since she's pretty quiet, but since there isn't three rooms sasha sleeps here too, she didn't mind making a makeshift bed, plus the owners apologized. ymir forced us to all share a room anyways because she wanted the other room alone with historia."

"yeah? well it sounds like y'all are still having fun anyways since you haven't been calling me."

"eren, we just talked yesterday."

"yeah, because i called you. you didn't call me."

"same thing." you huffed, turning to your back and resting the bottom of the phone on your chest, an angle that made eren laugh. "what are you doing?" you asked him, while your eyes darted around the room to study it since you never really got a chance to, being out and about everyday you've been here.

"thinking about you."

you felt your cheeks heat up, and held back your smile, rolling your eyes instead. "hm, i told you i'm co—"

"thinking about how i want you next to me, so i can feel you against me."

"eren, stop," you moved your face out the camera, of course the butterflies in your stomach decided to start flapping around.

"i'm not kidding baby, i was just going through my photos, that's how much i miss you... and i saw some of the photos you used to send me... how come you don't send me nothing no more?" he taunted you, and you didn't even know his hands were halfway down his pants as he spoke to you so enticingly.

"you know why. how did armin end up seeing my nudes?" you furrowed your eyebrows and turned the phone back to your face with a jokingly angry expression causing eren to burst out laughing.

"i told you i was sorry, it was an accident! historia saw my dick print that one time."

"that's because you sent it to me when she was using my phone, nobody asked you to send those to me while i was out with my friends."

"you're always out with your friends and never with me."

"you're such a baby."

"but i'm your baby, and your baby wants you right now."

you were at lost for words, your voice croaking when you tried to come up with something to say, but eren didn't mind, after a moment of comfortable silence he continued to carry the conversation for you.

"wanna feel that pretty body, i wanna kiss you and hold you," a faint noise was eliciting from the other side of the line, small constant sounds of fabric being ruffled almost— and alongside it, eren's soft panting. "the things i want to do to you, baby... i wanna fuck you so bad right now."

eren's hand was wrapped around himself, stroking up and down in a rhythm that you could hear from where you were thanks to the facetime call you were on. "eren—"

"that's one reason i miss you so much... i been fucking my fist to that pretty face almost everyday..."

you turned over to your side letting the phone rest beside you as you listened to eren through the phone. "yeah?"

"yeah, 'm doing it right now, that's how much i miss that pretty pussy."

somehow you found your own hand trailing down to your underwear, pulling the fabric aside and basking in eren's deep voice and praise. you didn't even realize the soft moan you made until eren's voice came in on the other line.

"you're touching yourself too? touching yourself to me?"

his voice— it was so low and grumbly, just like he had only just woken up, the way he spoke working you up. "mhm," you responded, and when he didn’t continue you took his silence as a way of him telling you to 'proceed', letting your fingers brush over your clit.

"i bet you miss me just as much then... miss the way i bend you over..." eren groaned at his own words, his hand tightening around his cock. his sweatpants and boxer were shoved down around his thighs, only enough so that he would be able to pump himself while laying on his back. "miss the way i fuck you so nice, right?"

"yeah.." you mumbled, you didn't really want to be in the position you were when your friends were sitting just downstairs but you couldn't help it, eren just had a natural charm to him that had you doing whatever he wanted you to.

"fuck, baby, if you were here right now i'd have you screaming like you always do—" you let out a low whimper at the thought, he wasn't lying, he did usually have you screaming and crying during your sexual endeavors, he was just that good once the two of you had learned what each other liked and disliked. "bouncing on my dick like that... you wouldn't even be able to touch yourself like you are right now if i was there..." you clenched at this because once again, he was right, he loved edging you, it's was something about the way you would cry and beg for him to let you come that turned him on so much. "fuck, i miss you."

you let a finger enter into you, and you tried to hold back your moans, your mouth agape at the feelings and you could only imagine it was eren's fingers instead. "i, i miss you too." and the noises, the squelching noises just had to be transferred over the call as well, eren letting out a low chuckle when he heard them.

"you're dirty..." he laughed, thumb slipping over his tip to collect his precum and smooth it down his length. "if you're gonna finger yourself show me,"

you squeezed your legs around you and turned onto your back. "eren..."

"let me see."

he moved his face into the camera, head now against his headboard and him still pumping himself while he watched you adjust his view so that the camera was flipped. at first, it was quite shaky while you pulled off your own sweatpants and underwear, putting them off to the side and then making sure the camera wasn't too shaky for eren. "yeah, right there, now put them back inside, put on a show for me, ______."

he was doing something to you, and it wasn't fair. you slipped your fingers back inside of yourself as he asked and let out a drawled out moan, eren's mouth dropping open much like yours earlier, head tilting back against the headboard as he lifted his hips up to meet his hand. "fuck— you wish that was me fucking you instead?"

you let out another whimper, your eyebrows furrowing and your eyes closing at his words; you weren't even sure if the camera was positioned properly anymore but eren wasn't complaining so you could only assume so. "uh huh,"

"look, baby." you opened your eyes again and looked at the phone. the camera was no longer on eren's face, it was now on his dick, his hand wrapped tightly around it moving up and down slowly. "can you see it?" and you could, albeit the dimness of the room, there was just enough light to see his movements. "you want this inside you?"

you nodded your head only to realize he wouldn't be able to hear you and instead let out a small "yeah", adding another finger into yourself and biting your lip to keep from moaning out while watching eren get himself off at you doing the same, you completely dismissed the words 'eren jaeger💍 took a facetime photo.' when they popped up on your screen, you were to amped up, but you knew you'd be complaining later.

"god, you're so beautiful, i can't— 'mma come." he whined, hips once again jutting into his hand. he was getting sweaty, feeling how close he was, his skin shiny with a thin sheen of perspiration, hair tie touching his neck as his ponytail was almost completely loose. his eyebrows were knit together and his complexion was flushed, with the phone in front of him to give you a good view while he stared down at it to watch you. "i want you to come first, make yourself come first for me."

your eyes fluttered, and you used your thumb to rub your clit while you let your fingers glide in and out of you, the wet noises making eren jerk off faster, a choked noise leaving his throat as he tried to hold back. "c'mon baby, just act like that's me, that's me fucking you so well," and he didn't even have to go on, your orgasm washing over you at eren's words and the stimulation, your fingers pulling out of you and your knees coming together while your face twisted in pure pleasure, the sound of eren unfolding on the other line as well.

"______!" he moaned, letting his cum spill all over his hand, and oh, what a sight. "fuck... did you like that?"

you flipped the camera back, placing it on the bed and using your one hand that was holding the phone to pull both your underwear and sweatpants back on. "i guess," you murmured once you had your bottoms on again. "i'll be right back."

"yeah, me too."

both you and eren left to clean yourself up and wash your hands, you coming back to eren being back first. "so when are you coming back again?" he asks, now his face once again fully in the camera laying on his stomach, clutching his pillow.

you held back a small laugh at his boyish grin when he looked at you, clear content in his eyes, the light from the phone illuminating his features. "two more days, i'll see you soon, eren."

"that's too long. can we do this again if i start missing you again?"

"no, this was a one time thing, i'm hanging out with my friends!" eren pouted at you and squeezed his pillow a little more then leaning forward and kissing the phone making you grimace at him and start laughing. "you're so weird."

"shut up and go hang out with your friends."

you and eren finally hung up the phone after a mantra of 'i love you' from both ends, you finally heading back downstairs.

"well that took forever." historia said, her eyebrows raised at you when you strut back in the living room.

"yeah cause she was probably phone fucking her boyfriend." ymir joked, but it caught you off guard because, she wasn't wrong.

"i wasn't!" you retorted quicker than you meant to, historia and sasha laughing.

"i took a nap while you were up there... that’s how long you took! we have to get ready, we're leaving to go out to eat at four pm." pieck yawned, stretching out her arms and legs and moving them from where she stretched them into your previous spot.

"okay, well then i'm gonna go back upstairs to get ready." you replied, turning back around to head back upstairs.

"don't waste anymore of our time being on the phone with jaeger boy." ymir scoffed as she watched you go up the stairs, historia hitting her shoulder from beside her.

"i won't!" you smiled to yourself, as you made your trek back up the stair, of course you wouldn't take any longer than you needed to getting ready, but you definitely  wouldn't waste anytime getting back to eren once you made it back home.

[libraryofloveletters]

Golden Boxes

Luke Alvez x Reader 

Warnings: None I think 

Category: Fluff 

Word Count: 1.8k

Author’s Note: this is dedicated to the Luke to my Matt @luke-alvez 🥰 not sure if it's still your birthday where you are but this is my gift to you :) <3

----

The house was filled with boxes and bubble wrap. The plan was to be unpacked for your birthday but it seems things didn't go as planned. Luke had returned form case later than expected and there was the huge storm that seemed to last for days. A week later and all the boxes had arrived and were being unpacked. 

Luke’s footsteps echoed through the house as he jogged down the stairs, “baby, have you seen the hammer anywhere ? I need it but I can’t find it” he leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, your back was turned to him as you unpacked the dishes. 

“Check the living room” you mumble, turning your attention to the cupboard. Luke shouted from the other room that he found it and ran back up the stairs. The door slammed upstairs, making you shake your head. 

“Yeah! Break it before we unpack!” you yell, you can hear Luke’s boisterous laugh from upstairs, he shouted back a sorry. 

Your morning was spent in the kitchen because if you couldn’t unpack everything, at least you could have clean dishes to eat from and you know what they say, the way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. It was around lunch that Roxy brushed up against your leg, “hey girl, where’s dad?” your fingers run through her fur as you put some pots in the bottom cupboard. On cue, Luke comes down, “hey, I'm gonna run to the store. We’re out of screws” 

“What do you need screws for ?”

“Uh, the bed, I might have cross threaded the other ones” he gave you a tight lipped smile, you chuckled. “Okay, pick up some of the tacks to hang the frames too” Luke comes over and kisses the top of your head before leaving the house. 

-- 

A few hours later, he returned to the house with more bags than screws could be in. “Uh, did you buy out the store? And what took so long?” Luke was already halfway up the stairs when you got to the bottom of the staircase. “No. No,” he laughs and totally ignores your question, returning with the tacks to hang the frames in hand. “Do you need help hanging the frames?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“I’ll be upstairs then” and once again, Luke headed up the stairs and back into the room. Half of you wanted to go up and see what he was doing but the other half was much too lazy to walk up the stairs just to check on the man you saw less than 10 seconds ago. You made your way to the living room, Roxy trailing behind you as you sat on the floor and started opening the boxes. The amount of pictures, framed or in albums that you two had was unnecessary. For two people and a dog, it didn’t make sense that at least 4 large boxes had photo albums and pictures frames. Nonetheless, you begin hanging up the frames, rearranging and changing positions until you were pleased with the order. The fireplace was bare, the mantle covered in dust, you couldn't have it. Wiping the dust away, you tumbled through the boxes for pictures that deserved to be front and centre 

The first one on the mantle was from your 4th date and the first picture the two of you had together. Luke had invited you to a party that the BAU was having at Rossi’s place and Penelope had taken a picture of the two of you cuddled up next to each other outside. The second one was from your wedding, a picture of your first dance. It felt like only yesterday that you met Luke. It was hard to believe that you were married and had bought a house together. The third one was on you, Luke and Roxy. It was just some random picture that you had taken one morning. The two of you were in bed and you had your phone in your hand when Roxy jumped up onto the bed and amid the confusion, you accidentally took the picture. Neither of you are looking at the camera but you're both laughing. 

The sound of something falling pulled your attention away from the photos. “Luke?! You okay ?!” you shout from downstairs, he doesn’t answer so you head up, making your way to the bedroom. 

“Love, are you alright?” as soon as your hand reaches for the knob, Luke sticks his head out. “yeah, I'm okay” he smiles, “do you need some help ? I've had enough of downstairs” chuckling, you go to push the door open. 

“Oh it’s fine, there’s something propped against the door. I’ll finish up there and come down and help you” Luke shuts the door before you could protest. 

“Oh uh okay” mumbling, you head back down the stairs. The banging and thudding did not stop for the next 3 hours. Surely, it couldn't take that long to put together a bed. When it finally stops, he comes down as you had moved on from the living room to the pantry. “Y/n? where are you?!” he called, his footsteps sounding closer with each step. You had headphones in because of all of the noise he was making upstairs and when Luke’s hand rested on your waist, his touch startled you. Your hand coming up and gripping to your chest, Luke held back a laugh. The stupid smile on his face was enough to earn him a small whack to the side. 

“Don’t do that!” you shout,

“Sorry,” he chuckled, “I thought you heard me calling” 

“Well did I answer ?” you ask him, he shook his head as he watched you from the doorway. 

“Anyways, I'm running out to pick up a pizza. Unless you want something else?” 

“I’m fine, pizza is good” you smile, Luke leans in and gives you a kiss before walking towards the door. He stops halfway and looks back at you. “The room is still in a mess so don’t go up” he tells you, you nod and mumble okay. 

You didn't think anything of it. 

It’s not like you were in a rush for the bedroom to be done but it would be nice. The more you thought about it, the more you realized something seemed off. Luke had been upstairs all day and the bed still wasn’t put together? 

Walking up the stairs, the sound of your steps echoed through the almost empty house. You stopped in front of the door, half of you wanted to go in and see what was happening and the other half was shouting no in big red flashing lights. There had to be a reason as to why Luke asked you not to go in, he wouldn’t say that for no reason. Which only made you wonder even more. Stepping towards the door, your hand was just about to touch the knob when Luke shouts for you, once again, starling you. 

“What were you doing upstairs ?” he was at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at you as you made your way down. 

“Looking for the box with the kitchen towels” 

“Did you find it ?” 

“Must be in the kitchen, I think I saw it earlier” you give him a small smile, feeling kind of bad for lying to him. The half eaten box of pizza was discarded on the floor beside you and Luke, his arm around your shoulder as your head rests on his. 

“I have something for you. Let me go get it” untangling himself from you, Luke gets up. Your brows furrow, watching your husband jog up the stairs. “Babe?! Can you come up here?” you follow the sound of his voice up the stairs and into the room. You stop in your tracks when you step into the room. Not only had put the room together but he had also fixed your vanity. The movers didn't wrap it properly and it got damaged, it was the first time you had bought yourself when you moved out on your own so you had wanted to keep it. 

“You fixed it” you smiled at him, your hand running around the top of it. “Is that what you were doing all day ?” 

“Mhm hm, you looked so sad when it arrived. I couldn't leave it like that” Luke pulls you into his side, his arm around your shoulder once again. He kisses the top of your head, “I take it that you’re happy ?” he asks, turning towards you. “Of course” flashing him a smile which turns into a loud squeal when Luke picks you up, he drops you on the bed and then lays beside you. 

“You know I love you right ?” rolling onto your side, your hand cupping his cheek. Luke kisses the palm of your hand, “I know. you know I love you right ?” he smiles which makes you smile too. “That’s not the real gift though” Luke sits up, he pulls out a little box from the bedside table. 

“This is for you” he hands it to you. Unwrapping the ribbon, you pull the lid off the box. A gold charm bracelet sat in the box, there were a few charms evenly spaced from each other. The first charm was a little paw print which was for Roxy of course. The second being the palm tree because the two of you went to the tropics for your honeymoon. The third was a tiny hockey stick, seeing that you loved hockey. There were a few more that reminded you of your trips and your time together. 

“Oh Luke,” you breathed, he gently picked up the bracelet and placed it on your wrist, attaching the hook and turning it the right way. “Do you like it?” he asks, his hand still holding yours. “It’s gorgeous Luke, thank you” you smile. His phone buzzes, he picks it up. 

“Do you have to go ?” you ask him, hoping that it wasn't Emily telling him that they had a case. Luke shook his head and showed you his phone instead. the clock had just changed to 12, the beginning of a new day, your birthday.

Luke’s hands cupped your face as he leaned in, his lips inched away from yours, “happy birthday mi amor” he pressed his lips to yours. You know he could feel your smile through the kiss, “thank you” you mumbled, as your arms wrapped around him and pulled him back into bed with you. 

---- 

Taglist: @mac99martin @aaron-hotchner187 @fanofalltheficsx @luke-alvez @lieberhers @pumpkin-reads @ssa-volturi @katexrichardson @sluttytears @thelukealvez @scandinavian-punk @pagetsimp @morcias @shotarosleftpinky @mrs-dr-reid @hqtchner @averyhotchner @willlemonheadsupremacy​ @mggsprettygirl​ @simxican​ @venusrosepetal​

[bimbodistrict]

FL*WERS (p.p)

DESCRIPTION| Peter tries to confess his love to Summer with flowers but something ruins the interaction.

PAIRING| tasm!Peter Parker x oc

PROMPT| "Fuck flowers, what flowers? They're pretty and all but I'm scared by the thorns on those flowers"

WARNING: BLOOD, ANGST

A/N: This also an empire records au!

Laura Harrier as Summer Hudson

The day was Rex Manning Day and the staff were getting ready to set out tables and the brand new Rex albums that were released to them this morning. Peter had showed up a couple minutes earlier than Summer, Corey, and Gina, so he could prepare how he could confess to Summer later. His heart practically beating out of his chest and his cheeks flushed with a nice summer peach tint.

Peter also stopped by a local shop and picked up some poorly picked flowers, with his last paycheck that was only $30. Stuffed in his pocket was a crumbled photo of him and Summer together with group with only them two drawn in a heart. A.J and Mark spotted Peter and tackled him onto the patchy couch in the office and messed with his hair, His laughs getting louder before Joe bursted through the door and threw badges at each of them.

"Let's put an end to all this laughter and start stocking these washed up albums, It's not like anyone's gonna actually buy them." Joe sighed as he went through the desk drawers trying to find a way to replace the money Lucas gambled away.

"Watch dozens of gay men and cougars show up at the door." Mark mocked as he slid his badge on and dragged peter to the record player out front.

The girls including Deb starting coming into the shop and began opening duties, Corey making the coffee, Gina restocking, Deb stocking pins, A.J cleaning the windows, Mark putting the rugs back, and peter and summer stuck sweeping out front.

summer was chosen this morning to play the morning album, She chose "Smalltown Boy" by Brosnski Beat.

"So how'd you sleep last night?" Peter asked as he awkwardly swept the autumn leaves into the street.

"I slept fine, thanks for asking." summer responded quietly as she hasn't had her coffee yet.

the two stayed silent till Corey came outside and dragged both of them inside to dance along with the music playing, the group except Deb danced to the record and forgot about morning duties while Joe joined in from the office.

The alarm sounded as everyone froze and looked around to see who pushed the button, to their surprise it was Mark. He was holding a Tears for Fears record and was hoping to play it.

"You listen to tears for fears? I thought you were into the whole stupid band of men making screaming music?" Gina questioned as she scratched her head and looked around the room like there was an invincible camera.

"Well when I'm not listening to AC/DC, I listen to the sappy pop stuff too. It's all thanks to peter." Mark confirms as he revealed his stupid boyish smile to the group.

"Just put the record on, Dude." A.J complained as he was getting bored being in the silent store.

Before Mark could put the music on, Rex Manning and his Manager showed up along with dozens of fans waiting outside the door. Joe went back into the office leaving the gang to deal with the washed up singer. Currently on the verge of exploding into glitter and pink liquid, Corey and Gina tried warming up to Rex wanting to know him personally. Summer rolled her eyes and tied her apron on as she started putting the televisions out and turning them onto Rex's new music videos.

Peter followed behind and began setting up the tables, His eyes stuck on Summer as he watched her move her braids out of her face so she could see. Her skin glistening in the overhead lights, her smile beautiful and shining as she flashed a smile to Peter when she saw him, and her big doe eyes wandering the store.

"Where do I put my stuff?" Rex mentioned in a somewhat snobby way that came off as rude.

"Just throw it in the back with everyone else's things." Joe shrugged as he lead the way, Jane followed the two and looked around the messy but creative office space and took note.

Lucas nodded in Rex's direction and watched his every move, A random kid sitting next to him still upset from earlier. Women, Gay Men, and Young girls pushed through the doors as Rex came out and sat down. Screams and his name being shouted boosted his ego and his chest hair surprisingly.

Corey watched in awe as Rex signed albums and saying corny sappy things to all his female fans, She adjusted her blue furry sweater and her plaid skirt before making her way over to the table.

"Hey Rex, I loved your new album and hoped you could show me more." Corey begged as she leaned forward onto the table.

Before Rex could utter out a word, Summer dragged her from the table and into the office space.

"We're supposed to be working not flirting with the 40 year old man who we are sponsoring." summer scoffed as she let go off Corey's arm.

"I want to bring him his lunch and possibly you know.. Do it with him." Corey whispered in excitement as she ran off to the front.

"Gina or Deb, Can either of you stop Corey?" Summer begged as she used her doe eyes as an excuse.

Peter reminded himself of the flowers in his jacket pocket and stared at the rooftop door where he planned to confess to summer, He wanted the perfect setting. The sunlight shining on them and the "Empire Records" sign lighting up in front of them, reminding them of how they met.

With all the business for rex, He didn't think there would be time to confess and hand Summer her flowers. Peter was hoping on Summer agreeing and cherishing the flowers forever.

Hours passed, Fans slowly stopped coming in and Rex slowly started giving fans the same answer. Corey demanded to bring Rex his lunch and planned on having sex with him.

"Summer, will you come to the rooftop with me? I have something to tell you." Peter uttered out his mouth.

"Uh yeah sure." Summer put down the record she was stocking and followed behind Peter to the rooftop.

the two stared into the sun and gave each other a quick glimpse, Peter grabbed the flowers and photo out of his jacket pocket and handed them to Summer. She looked at the sad flowers and watched as Peter handed them to her.

"I wanted to confess my love for you, I've been holding this off because of how scared i was to say these words to you. I had my eyes on you since you walked through that door. The way you talk, the way you smile, and the way you wear your tight apron." Peter confessed as he waited for Summer to say something.

Summer looked at the flowers and handed them back to peter, She was happy to hear his confession but Summer felt it wasn't the right time for him to do so.

"Peter, This is sweet and all but, It's the wrong time for you to confess to me right now. I also can't forgive you for what you did to me over the past months." Summer mumbled as she handed the flowers back to Peter.

"Just take the flowers, Summer. It's all i ask of you." Peter scoffed as he held them in her face.

"I don't want them, Please get them away from me." Summer begged as she backed away towards the rooftop door.

the two argued back and forth before a stray thorn on one of the flowers cut Summer and she screamed in pain as she looked down at the wound. Peter gasped and dropped the flowers on the ground, He covered his mouth as tears fell to his face. He kept apologizing as he stayed back and watched summer hold her wound and run back inside to the store, Deb was the first to find her and quickly sat down with her with concern in her eyes.

Peter stayed his ground and kept his distance while summer told the whole thing to the others. He felt wronged and guilty for what he did, Peter knew he was in the wrong but insisted on forcing it.

"Not on Rex Manning Day, Peter. That shit's not cool." Mark stated as he shook his head in disappointment.

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

A Grammy Kind of Night - Harry Styles One Shot

**

It was music’s biggest night and you were looking forward to it. With everything going on, it had been so long since you’ve on a stage, so knowing you would be able to perform that night was worth it. However, with the award show coming up, it also brought on a new topic of discussion. 

“Sooo, what do you think?” You asked your boyfriend of the last year. 

“About?” He asked, pulling out ingredients for breakfast. 

“You weren’t listening were you?” You groaned. 

“I’m sorry! I’m distracted and sleepy,” he whined. 

You rolled your eyes, “Anyway, I was talking about tonight.” 

“What about it?” He asked looking over at you. 

“If the cameras see us together, people are going to speculate and eventually find out we’re together,” you pointed out. “I mean we’re already performing during the same segment of the show, so there’s bound to be a glimpse of us watching the other.” 

“People are eventually going to know about us,” he said. “Tonight’s a big night for the both of us, so I want you by my side. I don’t care what comes from it. We’ve been together for a year now, so who the fuck cares.” 

“Really?” You smiled. 

“Yes, you’re my girlfriend, why would I want to be at the same event, but not go anywhere near you,” he said, reaching out and putting his arms around your waist. 

“Aww, you love me, huh?” You giggled. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugged. 

“Fuck you!” You laughed, pushing him away. 

He laughed pulling you back into his arms and giving you a quick kiss. 

**

Once you were at the venue, you and Harry did decide on not walking the red carpet together. Simply because you two knew that would spark things from get go and you didn’t want to take away from the performances and what now. Plus, it seemed too “Official.” You didn’t mind anyone knowing about you being together, but you didn’t want to make it seem like you were making a big deal about it. 

After walking the red carpet, it was time to get changed and ready for your performance. You were oddly nervous, but you knew it was mostly excitement.  You were a little nervous for Harry because you could tell he was stressing a bit. Not only is it his first Grammy Award Show, but he’s also opening the show. 

When you were ready to go, you snuck over to Harry’s dressing room and knocked on the door. 

Harry L opened the door and smirked, “Trying to sneak a peek?” 

“It’s not sneaking if it’s my boyfriend,” you smirked, pushing past him. 

He laughed shaking his head following behind you. When you walked into the room, you saw your boyfriend putting on his leather jacket and only a leather jacket. 

“Are you seriously rocking the no shirt and leather jacket look right now?” You giggled. 

“I am,” he smirked. “Got a problem with it?” 

“A slight one,” you walked over to him. 

“And what’s that?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“That I would love to take advantage of that bed over there,” you smirked.

“Might I remind you, you’re in a room full of people?” Jeff coughed. 

“There’s always the bathroom,” you joked. 

“Now, I’ve got a slight problem,” Harry laughed. 

“Y/N, you look good, by the way,” Harry L smirked. 

“Thank you for bringing this outfit to my attention,” you said. 

“You’re welcome,” he smirked. 

“He’s right though, you look very good,” Harry smiled. “Beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled kissing his cheek. 

**

The two of you walked over to the venue and proceeded to get to your part of the stage. The setup was weird, but actually really cool. Each artist that was set to perform in the first little bit of the show, were all on the same stage, but each had their own stages within the main stage. Harry just so happened to be right next to you and you know Ben strategically made that happen. 

Having been to multiple Grammy Award Shows, you had a differently feeling this go around in terms of the focus on the music and performances. Usually, it’s all about the awards, but it was nice to focus on the music that got a lot of people through the last year. 

While you waited for the show to start, Harry kept looking over at you and making faces. You rolled your eyes with a laugh, but you could tell the energy was pumping through he was ready to just get started. You think he was more nervous for the performance than his awards. 

Speaking of awards, you were also nominated in those same categories, along with Song, Record, and album of the year. So, you knew there was some low-key competition between the two of you, which honestly you didn’t mind. 

You just got the warning the show was about to begin. Everyone got in their places and you saw Harry taking a deep breath. He looked over at you, just before his performance, you smiled, gave him a thumbs up and said, “You got this!” 

He smiled and it was go time. 

During the performance, you smiled and discreetly danced around as you watched him. You giggled a bit when he started dancing and you were so proud of him knowing he was having the time of his life. After his performance, he glanced over at you and had the biggest smile on his face, and you returned one to match. 

When it was your turn, Harry immediately turned towards your stage, his eyes glued to you. The song you were performing was an acoustic set, so it was literally just you and your guitar. Since there wasn’t a crowd, you could be heard perfectly and you got lost in the song. At the end, Harry smirked and cheered you on, whistling and clapping as you waved to the camera and did a little bow. 

**

Now that the performances were over, it was time to head to the tables ned the award stage. You and Harry had changed back into your previous outfits and made your way to your table. The glances your way didn’t go unnoticed, but you tried not to pay attention to them. 

Harry pulled out your chair for you to sit and he sat next to you. Jeff and your manager sat at a table nearby and you looked over at them. 

“Sorry to take your place, Jeff,” you smirked. 

“You’re lucky I like you,” he said back. 

You laughed taking a sip of your drink. About halfway through the show, you took out your phone and looked at social media. Just like you thought many have picked up on you and Harry. Between how you two were during the other’s performance and now sitting at the same table, plus there was a video of Harry whispering in your ear and you laughing, that was sending everything into a whirlwind. 

But surprisingly, everyone seemed to be here for you and Harry being together. You smiled showing Harry a few of the comments and he smiled back. 

“Told you,” he smiled. 

As the night went on and it got closer to announcing your and Harry’s categories, you could tell he was getting nervous again. You reached over taking his hand in yours. 

“And the Grammy for Best Pop Solo Performance goes to.. Watermelon Sugar by Harry Styles,” the presenter announced. 

Harry’s face is pure shock along with yours. He doesn’t move for a bit and you have to push him a bit. 

“Go, you won. Babe, go get your Grammy,” you giggled. 

Finally standing up, you stand up with him as he gives you the biggest hug and Jeff comes up behind and wraps his arms around the two of you. You giggle and jump around a bit before letting Harry finally go up to grab his Grammy. 

Jeff takes Harry’s seat as you two watch and listen to him give his speech. You even took out your phone to take pictures and send to Anne and Gemma. 

“He did it,” Jeff smiled. 

“Yeah, he did,” you smiled. 

Once Harry was, you could tell it didn’t matter what happened the rest of the night because he already won. So, when you ended up taking home the Grammy for Best Pop Album, he didn’t even care that he didn’t win it. 

But now it was the last two awards of the night, Album and Record of the year, you didn’t win for Song of the Year, so you weren’t sure what would come out of these last two. 

“And the Grammy for Album of the Year goes to... Y/N for Y/Album/Name!” the presenter says. 

Your face goes into deer in the headlights mode and this time it’s Harry who’s nudging you to get up. 

“Baby! You won! You fucking won!” He laughed. 

You get out of your chair hugging Harry tightly, who also gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before letting you go up on the stage. You take the Grammy and stand in front of the mic, ready to give your speech, when you noticing something. 

“We hate to interrupt you, but we thought you should know you’re also taking home the Grammy for Record of the Year,” the presenter smiles bringing out another Grammy. 

Next thing you know, you hear ridiculous cheering and shouting coming from Harry, Jeff, and your manager as you give your speech. 

**

When the show was over and the two of you had to go to the Press Room, it was during that time you got an idea. An idea you weren’t too sure about, but you were too happy to not do it. You took a photo together with each of your Grammy’s and posted it on social media with this caption...

“Just another Sunday night for this Grammy Award Winning Couple.” 

Which eventually became the fastest picture to reach over 1M likes and shares and the most talked about that night and you couldn’t be happier. 

[starsfic]

Hair Dye Party Prep

Summary: Red's roots are starting to show and he wants to be rebellious. So he accepts Xiaojiao's offer of a hair dye party.

But first they have to prepare.

-_-

“Wanna have a hair dye party?”

Red stopped his welding, pushing his mask up. “What?” he repeated, not exactly sure he had heard that correctly.

Xiaojiao leaned over from her workstation, her overalls stained with whatever paint she was using on her sculpture. “I mean,” she gestured to the top of her hair. “Your roots are starting to show.”

Red set down his tool and pulled out his phone, flicking on the camera. With some careful angling, he realized that she was right. His roots had started to grow out and show, revealing the same dark tone as his mother’s. “Oh. Yeah, I should probably make an appointment to have that fixed.”

“Or I could do it,” Xiaojiao suggested.

He blinked, caught off-guard by the offer. He had always had his hair done by his parents’ hair salon, the same hairstylist carefully doing the dye over and over again. He wasn’t sure if he was willing to trust others with his hair.

But… the same hairstylist had always done it.

And…

“Okay.”

That was how Red found himself in front of Xiaotian and Xiaojiao’s dorm door. He raised a hand but before he could knock, the door swung open. “Hey!” Xiaotian said brightly, his bestie following him. “Xiaojiao told me that she was going to dye your hair.”

“Yes… why are you coming?”

“We’re making a party out of it!” Xiaojiao explained, grabbing his and Xiaotian’s hands and dragging them down the hallway. “Which means we need snacks! And drinks! And the actual hair dye!” Before he could muster a response to that, they were heading down the stairs and he felt a hand reach into his pocket and pull out his keys.

Then Xiaojiao was shoving him into the back of his own car. She jumped into the driver’s seat, Xiaotian scrambling into the back with Red. “Let’s go!” she called with a vibrant grin, starting the car and the radio. Pop music started to blast through the car and then they were off.

Despite Red’s surprise at the sudden outing and the fact that he had been booted to the back of his own car, he couldn’t help the smile that formed. It grew bigger as Xiaojiao and Xiaotian started to sing along to the music that seemed to be the perfect background to the cityscape outside. Before he could muster the courage to add his own voice, they were parking at a small convenience store.

Despite it not being that late, the store was empty except for a bored-looking worker. Bad pop music was tinnily placing through speakers. Xiaotian pulled out a cart as they passed by, beaming. “I’ll go get the snacks!” he called, already scrambling away.

“I guess we’ll get the hair dye,” Xiaojiao said, leading Red down the aisles. In the distance, they could hear Xiaotian loudly singing along to the bad pop music. Then they were turning into the aisle, revealing a widespread of dyes.

The two split up, scanning the shelves. Xiaojiao broke the silence with “You know, dying your hair sounds like something your parents would be against.”

Red shrugged, grabbing a bottle of red dye. “My father dyes his hair,” he said casually. “I think it might’ve been to make him look more… intimidating, I guess.” He turned to Xiaojiao who glanced from his hair to the bottle and shook her head. He set it back, stepping to the next bottle.

“But you?”

“I think I kept asking and one day my nanny gave in. It was horrible though.”

Xiaojiao burst into laughter.

“I’m serious! It was like this teal and lavender ombre mess!” He could barely remember the incident and his only proof was in his childhood album. “My parents came back and that nanny was immediately fired.” Which was… something he should feel bad about. Right? “And my mother said if I was so desperate, then fine.”

“And she chose red?”

Red blinked, thinking back. “Uh… no, actually. They started with purple so I matched with Father.” He could remember the yearly family photos, his hair tied back in a low ponytail and the same shade of lavender as his father’s. "Father said I could start choosing when I was eight." He didn't add that was after he had gotten the highest grades in his school.

Stuff like that ended up with pity.

A familiar shade of green caught his eye and he grabbed the matching bottle of his friend's color. Xiaojiao let out a cry of triumph before he could speak, holding up a bottle. "I found a match!"

"Good." A loud yelp rolled through the store. "We should probably check on him-"

She had already grabbed his hand and was going.

The scene they found was one of Xiaotian apologizing under his breath as he cleaned up a shelf of candy, having clearly run into it with the full cart. Red thought, for a moment, of just telling that worker, but he sighed and moved over to help.

He also threw in some of that candy.

Once everything was cleaned up, they headed to the register. The worker groaned as they approached, but went to work scanning everything. Xiaojiao thanked them cheerfully as she paid and they headed out.

The parking lot was empty.

"Get in." Red ordered, taking the handle of the cart. His friends grinned, catching on. As soon as they had gotten in, he backed up…

And then started running.

As soon as they had gotten a good speed, he hung on. The younger two screamed in clear delight, Xiaotian throwing his hands back like he was on a roller coaster. He couldn't help his urge. "HAIR DYE PARTY!"

"HAIR DYE PARTY!!"

When the car came into view, Red stomped his foot down, dragging them to the stop. The other two burst into laughter, their hair a mess.

And Red couldn't help his own laughter.

He couldn't wait for the hair dye party.

[taeyohonic]

stolen dances | chap. V

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: one/two swear words

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 1500

links: prev. | next

note: lower case letters intended

chapter summary: a muffin never tasted so bittersweet

can you believe it’s been three years? i miss you army

you can’t help the bittersweet memories flooding your mind at jungkook’s tweet. it’s been such a long time since bangtan stood in front of their fans – performing their music to the people who adored them with all their hearts.

you, yourself, were part of this crowd, more times than your bank account wishes to remember. their stage presence was so enticing, so alluring, you could not not fall in love with them.

jungkook shared some pictures in his tweet, old photos of jin and him demolishing a plate of deep-dish pizza in chicago, of jimin and taehyung posing in front of their pop up store in seoul, and one with all four of them bowing to the crowd in tokyo dome.

there is a smile on your face – not because you think about their shared journey, but because your best friend chose photos of events that you attended. sure, you hadn’t known them back then. but it can’t be a coincident that you have similar pictures – granted from another perspective – on your own camera roll. it makes you miss him.

“what’s going on?”, yoongi asks as he slides your coffee across the table. your starbucks is full of people, but namjoon, yoongi’s dear friend, works here. so, there is always a spot cleared for you. you don’t mind the special treatment as you sip your white mocca.

“just thinking”, you mumble, warmed by the caffeine.

“that can’t be good”, he says and sips his iced americano. he looks as tired as you feel. yoongi is recording his second mixtape right now. so, after he finishes his work talking to people about their problems, he starts rewriting, taping, recording, mixing and editing. no wonder he looks like death.

“i have you know that i’m actually thinking 67 percent of the day.”

“that can’t be good as well, ______. please use your brain more often – it might evolve with training.”

you gap at his audacity. “you do know i’m not paying you to talk me down, right?”

yoongi’s eyes smile while his lips are still half asleep. “you’re not paying me right now, _____. we are just friends meeting up for coffee before we have to… be a part of the working class.”

“i still can’t believe i get to see beautiful, brilliant, boisterous butterflies”, you say. your friend answers with an unattractive snort as his hands move into his thick, bleached hair.

“and i can’t believe you’re getting paid to watch bonkers, brackish, boring butterflies.”

you look away as you see his biceps flex. when did get this muscular? it takes a second for you to register his insult. maybe you need another coffee before leaving.

“i do have to care about my class as well, yoongi. it’s not all sunshine and butterflies. it’s also children’s snot and education.” still, you’re not making eye contact. if this was a therapy session, he’d ask for you to look at him, to ask why you’re feeling uncomfortable. but here, you are… just his friend.

“your work is important, _____, i know”, yoongi answers honestly. he knows how much you love these animals and children. and it is a big deal that seoul’s butterfly exhibition opens up just for your excursion. it makes him happy to see you this excited.

“and because i know that, i’ll remind you that you had to leave three minutes ago.” what? your eyes rush to your watch, only to widen in surprise.

“damn it, namjoon”, you mutter. your barista friend did take a long time with your order.

“don’t blame joon, _____. we were the ones who missed the train”, your friend reminds you as you put on your jacket in a rush.

“less correcting me, more helping me, yoongi”, you shush at him and make a motion to your heavy bag right next to his chair. “come on.”

yoongi doesn’t know why he agreed to help you carry all the lunch packs to school, he really doesn’t. nevertheless, he gets up and slings the heavy bag onto his shoulder and grabs his half-finished drink.

“let’s go – teacher of the year.”

**

the exhibition is amazing. you feel true bliss walking around the nature themed rooms, all home to one of the most rare, beautiful creatures. the kids hang on their tour guide’s lips as she tells them interesting facts about butterflies.

your phone is a constant companion – the camera roll now filled with funny pictures for the moms and dads to enjoy at the next parent-teacher conference. there are even a few photos of just you with a pink butterfly resting on your shoulder. jisoo, your coworker, is an amateur instagrammer, so the results of her taking your pictures are… really flattering.

now, the kids enjoy their break before you guys leave to drive back to school.

“really, you amaze me, ___”, your coworker says as she sits next to you on the bench – eyes trained on your students chasing around the butterflies.

“why?”, you ask, your attention monopolized by the two boys in a heated exchange over their shared butterfly net.

“getting the exhibition to open up just for our class? after hours? without additional fees?”

you flinch at her words as your heartbeat quickens. “wha- what? jisoo? i-“, you start to stutter, “i thought… you organized that.”

there is a fruit basket waiting on her desk with a thank you note for all her planning. now jisoo, too, looks uncomfortable.

“i didn’t”, she says.

**

it takes you a long time before you reach out. the whole train ride was spent with a pro and contra list on your ipad. then, while you were making yourself a two-person bowl of ramen, you crafted more than one email, only to delete every attempt. you haven’t talked to jungkook for more than five days. that’s the longest period the two of you ever went without seeing each other.

there is still a tightness in your chest when you think about his insult that night on the terrace. at first, you weren’t sure if jungkook realized that he hurt you – admittedly you aren’t the best with communicating your feelings. but your cold responses to his texts the next day must have been enough of a red flag for him to act.

then came the gifts: a triple chocolate muffin, still warm, delivered to your home before you had to leave on monday.

on tuesday, there was a singed copy of the unreleased album from one of your favorite kpop groups.

the next day, there was a poem collection where he scribbled in some commentary. you nearly teared up at that because this used to be your ritual when you first got to know each other: lending books with marked and commented pages for the other to enjoy.

on thursday he was strangely silent – only a single daisy decorated your briefcase.

but now, on friday, he went out of his way to get your class into this exhibition. you don’t even want to think about what that must have cost him.

there is an uneasiness in your fingertips as you dial his number. for one fleeting moment you want to call your therapist instead. but you can’t… because you may have left your whole “cold-shoulder-to-jungkook”-move out of the last session. and you really can’t take yoongi’s probing right now.

he answers after seven rings, breathlessly happy.

“______”

you smile and it’s not uncomfortable.

“jungkook… you didn’t have to”, you greet him and can’t help the endearment in your voice. he picks up on that and chuckles.

“of course, i didn’t… i wanted to.”

“thank you”, you answer, “it was really the highlight of my week.”

you can hear his cockiness at your words. “better than stray kids’ new album?”

“better than your thoughts on contemporary poems”, you counter teasingly. then, there is a beat of silence.

“______”, jungkook begins, “i… i really didn’t want you to think i’m not … or that i wouldn’t… do anything for you. you mean so much to me… it’s a shame i have to prove it to you… it should be… obvious.”

you suck in air as if your life depends on it. his words warm your heart and his awkwardness makes you smile.

“i get that i wasn’t the best of friends… but i’ll improve – trust me!”, jungkook vows with fire in his voice. “the winter collection has been kicking my ass… my family has been nagging about christmas… and the wedding…”

there is a beat of silence you do not dare to interrupt. this is his moment, not your responsibility.

jungkook collects himself fast and continues. “i know how much you’ve done for this wedding, for me… for us… and i want to be more involved… i’ll be by your side for all of next week’s appointments. ms yang already cleared my schedule.”

jungkook wants… to be by your side when you talk to the dj? the cake decorator? when you finalize the seating chart? dear lord.

“let’s spend some quality time together, ____. just you and me… and the wedding.”

you cannot find the right responds as you gap silently into your phone. after a moment, another voice is heard through the speaker.

“ask her if she liked the muffin i baked her.” his fiancée’s words punch you in the gut without ill-intent.

___

hi guys! I hope you are doing well! i had to take my first covid test this week – it was negative but that’s an experience for itself, right? i hope you are healthy and you enjoyed this chapter. i’d really love to hear your thoughts! next up: junkook and the reader tackling some of the wedding preparation… love, dana

taglist: @livewittykid​  @thequeen-kat​ @kagami-s-void​ @goldenclosethobi​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @jinsalpaca​ @bishuthot​ @laabellaavitaa21​ @baekstans​  @jalexad​

[dailytomlinson]

A bathroom figures significantly in the origin stories of at least two classic One Direction songs. The first will be familiar to any fan: Songwriter and producer Savan Kotecha was sitting on the toilet in a London hotel room, when he heard his wife say, “I feel so ugly today.” The words that popped into his head would shape the chorus of One Direction’s unforgettable 2011 debut, “What Makes You Beautiful.”

The second takes place a few years later. Another hotel room in England — this one in Manchester — where songwriters and producers Julian Bunetta and John Ryan were throwing back Cucumber Collins cocktails and tinkering with a beat. Liam Payne was there, too. At one point, Liam got up to use the bathroom and when he re-emerged, he was singing a melody. They taped it immediately. Most of it was mumbled — a temporary placeholder — but there was one phrase: “Better than words…” A few hours later, on the bus to another city, another show — Bunetta and Ryan can’t remember where — Payne asked, maybe having a laugh, what if the rest of the song was just lyrics from other songs?

“Songs in general, you’re just sort of waiting for an idea to bonk you on the head,” Ryan says from a Los Angeles studio with Bunetta. “And if you’re sort of winking at it, laughing at it — we were probably joking, what if [the next line was] ‘More than a feeling’? Well, that would actually be tight!”

“Better Than Words,” closed One Direction’s third album, Midnight Memories. It was never a single, but became a fan-favorite live show staple. It’s a mid-tempo headbanger that captures the essence of what One Direction is, and always was: One of the great rock and roll bands of the 21st century.

July 23rd marks One Direction’s 10th anniversary, the day Simon Cowell told Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson that they would progress on The X Factor as a group. Between that date and their last live performance (so far, one can hope) on December 31st, 2015, they released five albums, toured the world four times — twice playing stadiums — and left a trove of Top 10 hits for a devoted global fan base that came to life at the moment social media was re-defining the contours of fandom.

It’d been a decade since the heyday of ‘N Sync and Backstreet Boys, and the churn of generations demanded a new boy band. One Direction’s songs were great and their charisma and chemistry undeniable, but what made them stick was a sound unlike anything else in pop — rooted in guitar rock at a time when that couldn’t have been more passé.

Kotecha, who met 1D on The X Factor and shepherded them through their first few years, is a devoted student of boy band history. He first witnessed their power back in the Eighties when New Kids on the Block helped his older sister through her teens. The common thread linking all great boy bands, from New Kids to BSB, he says, is, “When they’d break, they’d come out of nowhere, sounding like nothing that’s on the radio.”

In 2010, Kotecha remembers, “everybody was doing this sort of Rihanna dance pop.” But that just wasn’t a sound One Direction could pull off (the Wanted only did it once); and famously, they didn’t even dance. Instead, the reference points for 1D went all the way back to the source of contemporary boy bands.

“Me and Simon would talk about how [One Direction] was Beatles-esque, Monkees-esque,” Kotecha continues. “They had such big personalities. I felt like a kid again when I was around them. And I felt like the only music you could really do that with is fun, pop-y guitar songs. It would come out of left field and become something owned by the fans.”

“The guitar riff had to be so simple that my friend’s 15-year-old daughter could play it and put a cover to YouTube,” says Carl Falk

To craft that sound on 1D’s first two albums, Up All Night and Take Me Home, Kotecha worked mostly with Swedish songwriters-producers Carl Falk and Rami Yacoub. They’d all studied at the Max Martin/Cheiron Studios school of pop craftsmanship, and Falk says they were confident they could crack the boy band code once more with songs that recalled BSB and ‘N Sync, but replaced the dated synths and pianos with guitars.

The Best Face Masks For Running and CyclingHere’s how to stay covered up while on your bike, on a jog, or for your next workout outdoorsAd By Rolling Stone See More

The greatest thing popular music can do is make someone else think, “I can do that,” and One Direction’s music was designed with that intent. “The guitar riff had to be so simple that my friend’s 15-year-old daughter could play it and put a cover to YouTube,” Falk says. “If you listen to ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ or ‘One Thing,’ they have two-finger guitar riffs that everyone who can play a bit of guitar can learn. That was all on purpose.”

One Direction famously finished third on The X Factor, but Cowell immediately signed them to his label, Syco Music. They’d gone through one round of artist development boot camp on the show, and another followed on an X Factor live tour in spring 2011. They’d developed an onstage confidence, but the studio presented a new challenge. “We had to create who should do what in One Direction,” Falk says. To solve the puzzle the band’s five voices presented, they chose the kitchen sink method and everyone tried everything.

“They were searching for themselves,” Falk adds. “It was like, Harry, let’s just record him; he’s not afraid of anything. Liam’s the perfect song starter, and then you put Zayn on top with this high falsetto. Louis found his voice when we did ‘Change Your Mind.’ It was a long trial for everyone to find their strengths and weaknesses, but that was also the fun part.” Falk also gave Niall some of his first real guitar lessons; there’s video of them performing “One Thing” together, still blessedly up on YouTube.

“What Makes You Beautiful” was released September 11th, 2011 in the U.K. and debuted at Number One on the singles chart there — though the video had dropped a month prior. While One Direction’s immediate success in the U.K. and other parts of Europe wasn’t guaranteed, the home field odds were favorable. European markets have historically been kinder to boy bands than the U.S.; ‘N Sync and Backstreet Boys found huge success abroad before they conquered home. To that end, neither Kotecha nor Falk were sure 1D would break in the U.S. Falk even says of conceiving the band’s sound, “We didn’t want it to sound too American, because this was not meant — for us, at least — to work in America. This was gonna work in the U.K. and maybe outside the U.K.”

Stoking anticipation for “What Makes You Beautiful” by releasing the video on YouTube before the single dropped, preceded the strategy Columbia Records (the band’s U.S. label) adopted for Up All Night. Between its November 2011 arrival in the U.K. and its U.S. release in March 2012, Columbia eschewed traditional radio strategies and built hype on social media. One Direction had been extremely online since their X Factor days, engaging with fans and spending their downtime making silly videos to share. One goofy tune, made with Kotecha, called “Vas Happenin’ Boys?” was an early viral hit.

“They instinctively had this — and it might just be a generational thing — they just knew how to speak to their fans,” Kotecha says. “And they did that by being themselves. That was a unique thing about these boys: When the cameras turned on, they didn’t change who they were.”

Social media was flooded with One Direction contests and petitions to bring the band to fans’ towns. Radio stations were inundated with calls to play “What Makes You Beautiful” long before it was even available. When it did finally arrive, Kotecha (who was in Sweden at the time) remembers staying up all night to watch it climb the iTunes chart with each refresh.

Take Me Home, was recorded primarily in Stockholm and London during and after their first world tour. The success of Up All Night had attracted an array of top songwriting talent — Ed Sheeran even penned two hopeless romantic sad lad tunes, “Little Things” and “Over Again” — but Kotecha, Falk and Yacoub grabbed the reins, collaborating on six of the album’s 13 tracks. In charting their course, Kotecha returned to his boy band history: “My theory was, you give them a similar sound on album two, and album three is when you start moving on.”

Still, there was the inherent pressure of the second album to contend with. The label wanted a “What Makes You Beautiful, Part 2,” and evidence that the 1D phenomenon wasn’t slowing down appeared outside the window of the Stockholm studio: so many fans, the street had to be shut down. Kotecha even remembers seeing police officers with missing person photos, combing through the girls camped outside, looking for teens to return to their parents.

At this pivotal moment, One Direction made it clear that they wanted a greater say in their artistic future. Kotecha admits he was wary at first, but the band was determined. To help manage the workload, Kotecha had brought in two young songwriters, Kristoffer Fogelmark and Albin Nedler, who’d arrived with a handful of ideas, including a chorus for a booming power ballad called “Last First Kiss.”

“We thought, while we’re busy recording vocals, whoever’s not busy can go write songs with these two guys, and then we’ll help shape them as much as we can,” Kotecha says. “And to our pleasant surprise, the songs were pretty damn good.”

At this pivotal moment, too, songwriters Julian Bunetta and John Ryan also met the band. Friends from the Berklee College of Music, Bunetta and Ryan had moved out to L.A. and cut a few tracks, but still had no hits to their name. They entered the Syco orbit after scoring work on the U.S. version of The X Factor, and were asked if they wanted to try writing a song for Take Me Home. “I was like, yeah definitely,” Bunetta says. “They sold five million albums? Hell yeah, I want to make some money.”

Working with Jamie Scott, who’d written two songs on Up All Night (“More Than This” and “Stole My Heart”), Bunetta and Ryan wrote “C’mon, C’mon” — a blinding hit of young love that rips down a dance pop speedway through a comically oversized wall of Marshall stacks. It earned them a trip to London. Bunetta admits to thinking the whole 1D thing was “a quick little fad” ahead of their first meeting with the band, but their charms were overwhelming. Everyone hit it off immediately.

“Niall showed me his ass,” Bunetta remembers of the day they recorded, “They Don’t Know About Us,” one of five songs they produced for Take Me Home (two are on the deluxe edition). “The first vocal take, he went in to sing, did a take, I was looking down at the computer screen and was like, ‘On this line, can you sing it this way?’ And I looked over and he was mooning me. I was like, ‘I love this guy!’”

Take Me Home dropped November 9th, just nine days short of Up All Night’s first anniversary. With only seven weeks left in 2012, it became the fourth best-selling album of the year globally, moving 4.4 million copies, per the IFPI; it fell short of Adele’s 21, Taylor Swift’s Red and 1D’s own Up All Night, which had several extra months to sell 4.5 million copies.

Kotecha, Falk and Yacoub’s tracks anchored the album. Songs like “Kiss You,” “Heart Attack” and “Live While We’re Young” were pristine pop rock that One Direction delivered with full delirium, vulnerability and possibility — the essence of the teen — in voices increasingly capable of navigating all the little nuances of that spectrum. And the songs 1D helped write (“Last First Kiss,” “Back for You” and “Summer Love”) remain among the LP’s best.

“You saw that they caught the bug and were really good at it,” Kotecha says of their songwriting. “And moving forward, you got the impression that that was the way for them.”

Like clockwork, the wheels began to churn for album three right after Take Me Home dropped. But unlike those first two records, carving out dedicated studio time for LP3 was going to be difficult — on February 23rd, 2013, One Direction would launch a world tour in London, the first of 123 concerts they’d play that year. They’d have to write and record on the road, and for Kotecha and Falk — both of whom had just had kids — that just wasn’t possible.

But it was also time for a creative shift. Even Kotecha knew that from his boy band history: album three is, after all, when you start moving on. One Direction was ready, too. Kotecha credits Louis, the oldest member of the group, for “shepherding them into adulthood, away from the very pop-y stuff of the first two albums. He was leading the charge to make sure that they had a more mature sound. And at the time, being in it, it was a little difficult for me, Rami and Carl to grasp — but hindsight, that was the right thing to do.”

“For three years, this was our schedule,” Bunetta says. “We did X Factor October, November, December. Took off January. February, flew to London. We’d gather ideas with the band, come up with sounds, hang out. Then back to L.A. for March, produce some stuff, then go out on the road with them in April. Get vocals, write a song or two, come back for May, work on the vocals, and produce the songs we wrote on the road. Back to London in June-ish. Back here for July, produce it up. Go back on tour in August, get last bits of vocals, mix in September, back to X Factor in October, album out in November, January off, start it all over again.”

That cycle began in early 2013 when Bunetta and Ryan flew to London for a session that lasted just over a week, but yielded the bulk of Midnight Memories. With songwriters Jamie Scott, Wayne Hector and Ed Drewett they wrote “Best Song Ever” and “You and I,” and, with One Direction, “Diana” and “Midnight Memories.” Bunetta and Ryan’s initial rapport with the band strengthened — they were a few years older, but as Bunetta jokes, “We act like we’re 19 all the time anyway.” Years ago, Bunetta posted an audio clip documenting the creation of “Midnight Memories” — the place-holder chorus was a full-throated, perfectly harmonized, “I love KFC!”

For the most part, Bunetta, Ryan and 1D doubled down on the rock sound their predecessors had forged, but there was one outlier from that week. A stunning bit of post-Mumford festival folk buoyed by a new kind of lyrical and vocal maturity called “Story of My Life.”

“This was a make or break moment for them,” Bunetta says. “They needed to grow up, or they were gonna go away — and they wanted to grow up. To get to the level they got to, you need more than just your fan base. That song extended far beyond their fan base and made people really pay attention.”

Production on Midnight Memories continued on the road, where, like so many bands before them, One Direction unlocked a new dimension to their music. Tour engineer Alex Oriet made it possible, Ryan says, building makeshift vocal booths in hotel rooms by flipping beds up against the walls. Writing and recording was crammed in whenever — 20 minutes before a show, or right after another two-hour performance.

“It preserved the excitement of the moment,” Bunetta says. “We were just there, doing it, marinating in it at all times. You’re capturing moments instead of trying to recreate them. A lot of times we’d write a song, sing it in the hotel, produce it, then fly back out to have them re-sing it — and so many times the demo vocals were better. They hadn’t memorized it yet. They were still in the mood. There was a performance there that you couldn’t recreate.”

Midnight Memories arrived, per usual, in November 2013. And, per usual, it was a smash. The following year, 1D brought their songs to the environment they always deserved — stadiums around the world — and amid the biggest shows of their career, they worked on their aptly-titled fourth album Four. The 123 concerts 1D had played the year before had strengthened their combined vocal prowess in a way that opened up an array of new possibilities.

“We could use their voices on Four to make something sound more exciting and bigger, rather than having to add too many guitars, synths or drums,” Ryan says.

“They were so much more dynamic and subtle, too,” Bunetta adds. “I don’t think they could’ve pulled off a song like ‘Night Changes’ two albums prior; or the nuance to sing soft and emotionally on ‘Fireproof.’ It takes a lot of experience to deliver a restrained vocal that way.”

“A lot of the songs were double,” Bunetta says, “like somebody might be singing about their girlfriend, but there was another meaning that applied to the group as well.”

Musically, Four was 1D’s most expansive album yet — from the sky-high piano rock of “Steal My Girl” to the tender, tasteful groove of “Fireproof” — and it had the emotional range to match. Now in their early twenties, songs like “Where Do Broken Hearts Go,” “No Control,” “Fool’s Gold” and “Clouds” redrew the dramas and euphorias of adolescence with the new weight, wit and wanton winks of impending adulthood. One Direction wasn’t growing up normally in any sense of the word, but they were becoming songwriters capable of drawing out the most relatable elements from their extraordinary circumstances — like on “Change Your Ticket,” where the turbulent love affairs of young jet-setters are distilled to the universal pang of a long goodbye. There were real relationships inspiring these stories, but now that One Direction was four years into being the biggest band on the planet, it was natural that the relationships within the band would make it into the music as well.

“I think that on Four,” Bunetta says with a slight pause, “there were some tensions going on. A lot of the songs were double — like somebody might be singing about their girlfriend, but there was another meaning that applied to the group as well.”

He continues: “It’s tough going through that age, having to spread your wings with so many eyeballs on you, so much money and no break. It was tough for them to carve out their individual manhood, space and point of view, while learning how to communicate with each other. Even more than relationship things that were going on, that was the bigger blanket that was in there every day, seeping into the songs.”

Bunetta remembers Zayn playing him “Pillowtalk” and a few other songs for the first time through a three a.m. fog of cigarette smoke in a hotel room in Japan.

“Fucking amazing,” he says. “They were fucking awesome. I know creatively he wasn’t getting what he needed from the way that the albums were being made on the road. He wanted to lock himself in the studio and take his time, be methodical. And that just wasn’t possible.”

A month or so later, and 16 shows into One Direction’s “On the Road Again” tour, Zayn left the band. Bunetta and Ryan agree it wasn’t out of the blue: “He was frustrated and wanted to do things outside of the band,” Bunetta says. “It’s a lot for a young kid, all those shows. We’d been with them for a bunch of years at this point — it was a matter of when. You just hoped that it would wait until the last album.”

Still, Bunetta compares the loss to having a finger lopped off, and he acknowledges that Harry, Niall, Liam and Louis struggled to find their bearings as One Direction continued with their stadium tour and next album, Made in the A.M. Just as band tensions bubbled beneath the songs on Four, Zayn’s departure left an imprint on Made in the A.M. Not with any overt malice, but a song like “Drag Me Down,” Bunetta says, reflects the effort to bounce back. Even Niall pushing his voice to the limits of his range on that song wouldn’t have been necessary if Zayn and his trusty falsetto were available.

But Made in the A.M. wasn’t beholden to this shake-up. Bunetta and Ryan cite “Olivia” as a defining track, one that captures just how far One Direction had come as songwriters: They’d written it in 45 minutes, after wasting a whole day trying to write something far worse.

“When you start as a songwriter, you write a bunch of shitty songs, you get better and you keep getting better,” Ryan says. “But then you can get finicky and you’re like, ‘Maybe I have to get smart with this lyric.’ By Made in the A.M. … they were coming into their own in the sense of picking up a guitar, messing around and feeling something, rather than being like, ‘How do I put this puzzle together?’”

After Zayn’s departure, Bunetta and Ryan said it became clear that Made in the A.M. would be One Direction’s last album before some break of indeterminate length. The album boasts the palpable tug of the end, but to One Direction’s credit, that finality is balanced by a strong sense of forever. It’s literally the last sentiment they leave their fans on album-closer “History,” singing, “Baby don’t you know, baby don’t you know/We can live forever.”

In a way, Made in the A.M. is about One Direction as an entity. Not one that belonged to the group, but to everyone they spent five years making music for. Four years since their hiatus and 10 years since their formation, the fans remain One Direction’s defining legacy. Even as all five members have settled into solo careers, Ryan notes that baseless rumors of any kind of reunion — even a meager Zoom call — can still set the internet on fire. The old songs remain potent, too: Carl Falk says his nine-year-old son has taken to making TikToks to 1D tracks.

“Most of them weren’t necessarily musicians before this happened, but they loved music, and they found a love of creating, writing and playing,” Kotecha says

There are plenty of metrics to quantify One Direction’s reach, success and influence. The hard numbers — album sales and concert stubs — are staggering on their own, but the ineffable is always more fun. One Direction was such a good band that a fan, half-jokingly, but then kinda seriously, started a GoFundMe to buy out their contract and grant them full artistic freedom. One Direction was such a good band that songwriters like Kotecha and Falk — who would go on to make hits with Ariana Grande, the Weeknd and Nicki Minaj — still think about the songs they could’ve made with them. One Direction was such a good band that Mitski covered “Fireproof.”

But maybe it all comes down to the most ineffable thing of all: Chance. Kotecha compares success on talent shows like The X Factor to waking up one morning and being super cut — but now, to keep that figure, you have to work out at a 10, without having done the gradual work to reach that level. That’s the downfall for so many acts, but One Direction was not only able, but willing, to put in the work.

“They’re one of the only acts from those types of shows that managed to do it for such a long time,” Kotecha says. “Five years is a long time for a massive pop star to go nonstop. I know it was tiring, but they were fantastic sports about it. They appreciated and understood the opportunity they had — and, as you can see, they haven’t really stopped since. Most of them weren’t necessarily musicians before this happened, but they loved music, and they found a love of creating, writing and playing. To have these boys — that had been sort of randomly picked — to also have that? It will never be repeated.”

[hide-in-imagination]

"Roads That Cross... on a Day Off"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21)

———��——————————————————————

Inspired by 'Call it what you want', which is honestly THE simbar song. The author regrets nothing.

——————————————————————————

Simón’s left arm was asleep.

He noticed it the moment he woke up, but he refused to move. The prettiest head of blonde locks was using it as a pillow, and who was he to disturb her?

It was a rare occurrence that he woke up before Ámbar. She was a natural early riser while he liked to sleep as much as possible. He usually woke up from her movements as she started her day, or— and this was his favorite— with some caress or kisses from her part. He could start becoming a morning person if that was what awaited him.

So, uncommon as it was, he wanted to cherish this, just this, having her close in complete calmness. Ámbar’s back was to his chest, their legs close together, and his free arm was around her middle, holding her against him. He wanted to run his hand over her skin, or maybe take hers in his, but he didn’t want to risk anything putting an end to this moment.

He fleetingly wondered how long his arm could go without blood flow before it did some damage.

Oh well, who cared.

He couldn’t see her face spooning her like this, but he noticed when she started waking because the even rhythm of her breathing he had been following changed. She began to move, stretching slightly in a way that pressed her back more into him. Simón did hold her hand then and kissed her shoulder. She hummed softly and turned her head to look at him.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice groggy from sleep. She rolled to rest her head on his chest, which his left arm appreciated. He laid on his back. “What time is it?” She asked after a moment of just relishing the closeness.

Simón extended his right arm over to the nightstand to check his phone. “Almost eleven.”

“Eleven?!” Ámbar jumped, as if he’d said four in the afternoon. “Wow, I hadn’t slept in this much in a long time…” She said, recovering from the surprise. She brought her gaze to his with a coquettish look. “You really wore me out.”

Simón smiled smugly and gave a small shrug. “Well, what can I say? I like to be very thorough,” he said playfully. “Or… maybe all of this was part of my evil plan to get you to let me sleep until a decent hour.”

She raised her brows. “Decent hour? By the time we go downstairs, we might as well have lunch.”

He gave her a look. “You’re totally exaggerating, it’s not that late.” He turned on his side and ran his knuckles softly over her right arm. “And anyway, I wasn’t planning on going to the dining room.” He smiled at her. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Really?”

“Of course. It’s the least my queen deserves.”

She tilted her head to the side with the cutest melted smile.

“Aww.” She cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. “I love you.”

He gave her another peck. “I love you more.”

She drew back with a gasp in fake outrage. “You do not want to start that discussion, mister.”

“Oh really?” He said, playing along.

“Yep, because you’re going to lose,” she said confidently. “So better give up now while you still can.”

He smirked. “Or what?”

Ámbar’s eyes narrowed with challenge just as he wanted. With the hint of a smile on her lips, she rose and sat astride him, keeping his gaze from above.

“Or I’ll have to show you just how wrong you are.”

Simón kept his mask of a straight face. “That remains to be seen.”

One beat later, he went and flipped her over, making her explode into giggles that he captured with kisses in between his own smiles.

Maybe breakfast could wait.

*****************

The instant that “Esta Noche No Paro” stopped playing, claps and cheers replaced the music. Gastón was fascinated with the final product. It was magical to see everything put together when he’d been right there, in front of the camera, not knowing the shots that would come out of it. He was happy to see that both his dance moves and the choreography’s synch had come out great, but even more than that, he was happy to see the twinkle on Matteo’s eyes and the huge grin that split his face in two. They’d watched the video at the Roller with Delfi, Jazmín, Pedro and Ramiro, and Gastón could honestly say that Matteo and Delfi deserved all the praises that came their way— The video was amazing.

Everyone was very excited, so much so that Pedro gave them all smoothies on the house. Gastón had missed hanging out with his friends like this, a lot. Just their cheery conversations were sweeter than any drink. It was good to be back, no matter how short the visit.

The group dispersed after a while, everyone continuing their daily routines. Gastón and Matteo stayed on a table, Matteo still stuck on the video.

“It’s just… I really think if there is one person that should be receiving praises right now, it’s Luna,” he said, half awed by her, half lamenting she wasn’t there. “I mean, she came up with the video, shemade it happen… I really don’t know how to thank her for all of this.”

Gastón looked at his friend and pretended to think for a second. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe you could give her a bouquet of flowers,” he proposed, which Matteo seemed to like. “… And, while you’re at it, get back together with her.”

Matteo immediately became self-conscious. Gastón pushed forward. “Come on, dude, I’ve been here for a total of two days and it’s already obvious to me that you two still care about each other. Can you explain to me why you’re not together yet?”

Matteo averted his gaze, looking disheartened. “… A lot of things happened. Every time we get closer, we end up hurting each other and… Luna doesn’t feel the same way anymore.”

Gastón looked at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Matteo, she organized a whole music video for you. To cheer you up, to make youhappy. What else do you want? For her to write it in the sky?”

Tentatively, Matteo brought his gaze to his. “You really think so?”

“Everyone thinks so,” he declared. “You just need to gather the courage and go for it.”

Hope and worry mixed in Matteo’s expression. He looked down, seeming deep in thought. Gastón wished he didn’t drown in those thoughts of his so much and listened to his heart.

Just then, Nina entered the Roller with Jim and Yam and his eyes followed her as she walked over to a table, settling with her laptop as they talked about one thing or another.

Gastón filled his lungs with a big, deep breath. Time to start following his own advice.

***********************

By the time they finally deigned to leave the bed it was like two in the afternoon, and only because Ámbar thought it’d be a bad idea to introduce herself to Simón’s mom while in bed with him. She wanted to make a good impression— The woman didn’t need to know how she was defiling her son.

They sat on one of the couches in the living room for a more neutral setting. Ámbar chose a white top with a white linen sweater over it for the occasion. It made her look harmless enough. She also liked how its black and cream pearl embellishments combined with her dark jeans, and the weather had been a bit cooler lately. Simón had also opted for wearing his jean shirt over his purple t-shirt instead of tying it around his hips for that same reason.

They settled in front of her laptop’s screen for the video chat. It had been Ámbar’s idea to have it through there so it was more comfortable, that way neither side had to be holding up a phone.

Just as Simón had told her, the call hadn’t been a serious affair at all. She’d been a little nervous at the beginning, but Simón’s mom’s wide smile and warm personality put her at ease quickly. The woman didn’t seem to hate her at all, and she seemed too genuine to be pretending to like her. She reminded her so much of Simón. She knew that he mostly looked like his dad from the photos she’d seen on his Instagram, but he had his mother’s eyes, and the more Ámbar talked to the woman, the more pieces of him she found in her. It warmed her heart.

It wasn’t a very long chat, but Simón’s mom found the time to tell her a fun story of when Simón was a kid, much to his embarrassment and her insurmountable enjoyment. She promised to show her the family photo albums when she visited Cancún. Ámbar loved the idea.

“You’ll have to show me your photos too then,” Simón told her, his eyes shining with excitement and curiosity.

Ámbar did her best to keep her smile in place. She didn’t have any photos from when she was a kid that she knew of. Sharon wasn’t one for sentimentalities like that. If she had any, they were probably taken by Amanda on specific dates like her first day at kindergarten and at the Blake. Maybe some from old birthdays. Ámbar had no idea where those could be though… if Sharon had kept them at all.

The only old photos she knew she had were from photoshoots. She’d first asked for one when she turned twelve, and had some more done after that. When all cellphones started having decent cameras, it became easier to have photos.

Ámbar chose not to say any of it, and tried not to let it darken her mood, but the bitter reminder stuck on the back of her mind. The contrast between Simón’s mom’s sweetness and the cold, scolding texts she’d been receiving from Sharon was too great. Ámbar was ignoring them. Her godmother had no right to reprimand her for anything when she was keeping her secret at the expense of jeopardizing her happiness.

The video call ended with Simón’s mom teasingly warning him to behave and giving Ámbar permission to put him in his place if he didn’t. The irony of Ámbar promising to keep him on the right track was not lost on her, but it was just playfulness in the end. She only hoped that the future plans they’d talked about did come to pass.

After that, Simón insisted on inviting her out for lunch. “When was the last time we had time for an actual date? We need to seize this opportunity!” He took her to a restaurant he’d visited before with Pedro and Nico. It was nothing fancy, completely unlike the restaurants Sharon took her to the times they ate outside, but it was nice, and the food was delicious. The company was the best part, of course. Ámbar felt like she could’ve eaten anything and anywhere as long as she was with Simón. She nursed her drink slowly just so they could stay there longer, smiling and conversing. She suspected he did the same.

They had a brief fight over who would pay the bill. Ámbar argued that there was no need for him to spend money on her when she had more than she needed, but Simón insisted that he had invited her so it should be his treat. She proposed splitting it, but Simón wanted to pay for both. Sensing that it was important to him, she relented.

She grabbed his hand as they left and they walked down the street with their fingers interlocked. Ámbar would’ve been happy to just walk around with him for the rest of the afternoon until the sun went down, but he proposed they went back to the mansion.

When they got there though, she didn’t get to cross the front door before Simón stopped her.

“Wait for me right here, don’t move.”

Ámbar frowned but did as told while he disappeared inside, curious as to what idea he’d come up with.

He reappeared about five minutes later, with both hands behind his back, sign that he was hiding something.

“Okay, so, um, I want to make you a surprise,” he started.

She smiled with interest. “Okay…”

“But, in order to do that, I’m going to need you to be out of the mansion for a while.”

Ámbar raised a brow. Now this was unexpected, but she was too curious to say no. “Like for how long?”

“I don’t know, an hour?”

“And… what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Simón finally brought his hands forward, revealing one pair of her skates and her helmet. “You can rollerskate,” he said cheerily. “I’ve noticed that with so much work you haven’t found much time to do so lately. And, I mean, it’s a shame really, to deny the world the chance of seeing the queen of the rink in action.”

Her heart melted with the flattery, and especially for how thoughtful a gesture it was. “You’re so cute. But the idea of this day was to spend it together,” she argued, moving closer to place her hands on his shoulders. “I would rather skate with you. I miss it.”

He showed a sympathetic smile. “Me too. We can do that if we find some time at work one of these days. But now,” he handed her her things, “you can have some alone time and clear your head.”

Ámbar received them with an acquiescent smile. “Okay.”

“I’ll text you when you can come back.”

“Okay. Just try not to destroy my house with whatever you have planned.”

Simón chuckled. “I won’t. I may have to borrow a couple of things though, you don’t mind?”

She shrugged. “You live here, grab whatever you like.”

They shared a short parting kiss.

“Have fun,” he said with a smile.

Ámbar gave him one last peck just because she could and left.

**********************

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

Nina smoothed her hands down her skirt. They were sweating so hard, and she knew it had nothing to do with the mellow autumn sun shining over them in the quiet square.

It was all about the boy in front of her, who’d always had the ability to make her heart pound. And to whom, she realized, she still hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah, well, we’re still friends, right?” She somehow managed to articulate nervously, trying to show a smile. “I mean, if you need something, advice or anything like that, I can help. Although, I don’t know if I’d really be much help. Maybe you should talk about it with Matteo?”

Gastón looked at her in silence, in the eyes, in a way that did nothing to calm her heart.

“Matteo can’t help me with this,” he said, just the slightest hint of sadness in his voice showing he wished it were not so. “No one, really... It is about you and me.”

Yes, that was exactly what she’d feared. “…You wanna talk about us?”

Gastón nodded solemnly.

“Could we take a seat?” He invited her gently, signaling to the bench right next to them.

They both sat, keeping some small distance between them, but they were still very close. When had been the last time they’d been this close? Alone? Nina was having a hard time keeping his gaze. She was gripping the strap of her bag so hard her fingers would probably hurt later.

“Look, Nina,” Gastón started, his tense shoulders the only thing that betrayed he was nervous too, “I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks… and you have no idea how much I miss you.”

Her heart clenched painfully.

God, how many times had she dreamed with him saying those words? So many scenarios, so many things she’d wished to say. And now she was frozen.

“Every second I’m not studying I think of you,” Gastón continued, his emotion-filled voice hitting her with each word. “Hell, even when I’m studying I think of you— That I haven’t failed a class is a miracle.” He looked down, ashamed. “And I know that saying this now is unfair when it was me who wanted to end it but… I need to correct my mistake.” Gastón looked up. Honest, determined eyes bore into hers. “I want us to be together again, Nina. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Nina felt herself tremble.

“I… I don’t understand,” she uttered, her brain registering the words but unable to process them. Or perhaps she was too scared to. “What happened with all you said? What happened with not making each other suffer and letting destiny bring us back together someday if it was meant to be?” She’d held on to that. To the belief that their names were being kept by the sea and maybe they’d find each other in the future. She’d accepted that, and now he…

“That was before my best friend fell off a fence,” Gastón said, somber, and his expression just quieted her once more. “He could’ve died, Nina. One bad hit in the head is all it takes. And I would’ve been a hemisphere away.” His hands clenched. His face reflected how much the idea tormented him. “I started thinking of possibilities. Matteo could’ve died or ended up in vegetative state or in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Accidents happen every day— And what if it had been you?” He said, his eyes dancing between hers in fear. “What if something had happened to you and I wouldn’t have been able to be there?” His jaw set. His head shook slightly. “I can’t trust a hypothetical future when I could die tomorrow.”

Nina’s throat tightened. “Don’t say things so horrible, please.”

“It’s true,” he dismissed her pleading, not harshly but with the calmness of someone who has complete certainty of what he’s saying. “That’s why I had to come. For Matteo, and for you. To ask you to give me another chance.”

He seemed to want to hold her hands but didn’t dare to do so. They fell back on the bench, right on the edge of the flounce of her skirt. Nina had no chance to be either disappointed or relieved by that because his eyes held her captive.

“I’m so sorry,” Gastón said, like from the bottom of his heart. “I gave up on us too soon. I was a coward; I see that now. I thought I was doing what was best for us, so we wouldn’t have to suffer from being so far apart. But maybe I was just thinking of myself and what I thought would hurt me less. Maybe I was just too afraid of you finding some other guy… And now, because of that, my greatest fear came true,” he said dejectedly, averting his gaze. “I’ve been told that you have a thing with Eric…”

“No!”

The word was pulled from her lips before she made a conscious decision. She was not surprised to see the surprise in Gastón’s eyes because she was caught off guard too. She began to backtrack rapidly.

“I mean… He’s a very sweet guy,” she said, because not saying it would be unfair. Just the fact that she’d denied him so adamantly made her feel mean. “We see each other every day and we talk. We’re kinda similar, we get along very well. And…” She doubted. She felt awkward telling him all this, but after everything Gastón had said to her, she had to be honest, she couldn’t act like there was nothing there. “…He likes me…”

She decided not to mention the kiss. It’d been a mistake and Eric had apologized. But by Gastón’s face, she might as well have.

He looked down, putting on a solemn mask. “…I understand.”

“No, you can’t understand,” Nina said immediately, and this time she meant the strength with which she spoke. She didn’t know where it came from but suddenly it was burning, and when he met her gaze this time, she looked at him straight on. “You can’t possibly understand because I don’t. Everyone’s telling me that I should give Eric a chance and, honestly, there are many reasons why I should, starting with the fact that he’s here and wants to be with me, but I can’t even think about being with Eric because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Now it was him that was rendered speechless. His eyes searched hers, a new light in them, and she’d already taken the jump, so she let the words fall whenever they led her.

“You may have gone very far away physically, but you stayed in my heart,” she confessed. The most real, hardest truth she’d ever had to admit. “And with it stayed the sadness, and this horrible feeling that I’m missing something…”

Gastón didn’t doubt this time— He took her hands in his.

“I feel the same,” he said with both relief and desperation. “I’ve been feeling the same way all these weeks, Nina. I miss you like I didn’t even think I could miss someone. I’ve been so angry at myself for letting you go when it was the last thing I wanted.” His right thumb ran over her knuckles and he followed the caress with his eyes. Nina felt it like a spark. “I know I have no right to ask you anything… But I just can’t go back without at least trying to get you back.”

“…But then… we’d be together but apart again?” She said, discouraged by that bleak future. They’d already been through that— Did he really want to go back to it?

“You were the one who said that I was never really gone,” he noted. “As long as we still have each other here…” He brought their joined hands to his chest. “…Isn’t that all that matters?”

She didn’t know if she could feel his heart against her fingers or if it seemed so because she could see it through his eyes. She was too overwhelmed. “Gastón—”

“Say yes, Nina.” He squeezed her hands. “Please.”

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to jump into his arms and hug him tightly. She wanted to believe that love conquered all and they would be okay.

But she had thought that once. She’d believed it with all her heart, all through that summer, only for him to put an end to the story she’d been trying to write.

She couldn’t just forget about all the nights she’d spent crying over him since then. Names in the sea or not, it had been the death of something and she’d mourned it. Her heart was just starting to heal a little and he wanted her to rip all the carefully placed stitches and re-open the wound once more?

What if it just bled out again? What if their love wasn’t enough?

“… I need to think about it.”

Gastón looked disheartened but nodded and let go of her hands, lowering them slowly. “Yeah, of course. I understand.” He tucked his hands inside the pockets of his jacket, like stopping himself from reaching for her once more. “I leave in three days. If you could tell me by then…”

Nina nodded, utterly unsure of how she was even gonna make heads of what she felt to come to an answer, but knowing that it was the least Gastón deserved, and she as well.

She either chose to give themselves another chance… or she closed this chapter forever.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy no matter which she chose.

****************

Luna couldn’t understand what was happening.

She’d gone out for ice cream with Michel just like they’d promised. One second they were goofing around, laughing like always, and then the next, Michel was kissing her.

She froze, her brain scrambling to comprehend the situation. She hadn’t expected a kiss. She hadn’t given any sign for a kiss. He hadn’t just stumbled and fallen into her mouth, right? Nono, he was holding her face, and the way he was pressing against her lips was way too deliberate. Which meant it wasn’t a joke either, and even if it had been, it’d be a terrible one.

Finally, the repulsion she felt broke through the paralysis of confusion and she pulled away from Michel.

“What are you doing?” She asked, shaken up.

Michel was grinning. “I don’t know, I kissed you,” he said with a dreamy expression like something magical had just happened.

Meanwhile, it must have been one of the few times in her life Luna couldn’t see any good in a situation.

“Yeah, I realize that,” she replied, and she really couldn’t help the bite in her voice. “But, why? I mean, I didn’t— I never told you to kiss me!”

Michel’s shoulders deflated and his smile began to fade. “What are you saying? You didn’t like it?”

“Michel, how could I like it?” She honestly couldn’t believe he was even asking right now. Was he that detached from reality? In what world did he think this was okay? “We talked about this, didn’t we? Yesterday.”

“Yes, but,” he showed a tentative smile, “you said we are like birds of a feather and that you like hanging out with me…”

“Yeah, as friends,” she declared, keeping his gaze so he knew she was serious. A grimace wrinkled her face from all this situation. “God, Michel, you misunderstood everything, I thought we’d made things clear.”

Michel’s face finally lost all its light and became covered with remorse. “Luna, I’m sorry. Can we talk about this?”

“Why, I don’t know— Are we gonna talk and then you’ll try to kiss me tomorrow?!”

At seeing him wince in pain and regret, Luna’s outrage decreased somewhat; she didn’t want to be mean.

She closed her eyes, sighing heavily. “Look, Michel, I’m sorry, but this made me very uncomfortable and I need to go.”

She passed by his side and walked away, not looking back once, even when she heard him calling her name.

She wasn’t just shocked, she was hurting. She trusted Michel, she thought they were friends, she thought this outing had been as friends— Had he been just waiting for an opportunity to do this? Couldn’t he have at least leaned in slowly so she could move away instead of grabbing her face like that?

She rubbed her lips with the back of her hand as if that would somehow erase it. She knew it was just a kiss and she was probably exaggerating but… If she said she didn’t want something and then he just did it anyway, that was… that was just wrong.

She speed-walked to her house, wanting nothing more than to forget this happened.

A few meters away, a fresh bouquet of flowers laid discarded on the ground.

**********************

Ámbar felt the fresh air against her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, just taking in the feeling of her racing heart and the energy flowing through her muscles. She really had missed this.

She was standing by the lime green railing of the center of the park, her back and elbows resting on the metal as she took a break to refill her energy. She’d done pirouettes and jumps around this fenced circumference for a little over an hour, earning some appreciative stares from people passing by, which she enjoyed greatly. She loved feeling admired, especially because she loved what she did and knew how hard it’d been to reach this level. She remembered how her love for rollerskating had been born and wondered if any of the people who’d seen her today had left wanting to learn how to do the same. She hoped they tried it— It was a beautiful sport.

Eventually, she’d dropped the techniques and just skated around the park, looking at the scenery, at the sky, just letting her mind wander as the homely feeling of sliding on wheels lulled her accumulated stress away. When had been the last time she’d skated just for the sake of it, no choreographies or competitions in mind? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

A vibration on her jeans pocket made her open her eyes. Her heart jumped with excitement. She pulled out her phone and saw the contact she had been waiting for.

My love💙: All done, you can come back 👍

My love💙: Go directly to your room

Ámbar skated to a nearby bench to take off her helmet and change back into her boots. She wondered what Simón had planned. Maybe he’d cooked her something? She knew he and Pedro used to take care of cooking when they lived in the loft. Nico apparently couldn’t be trusted to make toasts without burning them. She wondered what kind of dishes Simón knew how to make. Maybe he could teach her some and she could make him pancakes. She was sure she could do it with some guidance from Mónica.

The idea made her smile as she made her way back to the mansion. She quickly wiped it off when she realized, showing a neutral face instead. Oh god, she’d just smiled to herself in the middle of the street. Was this what had become of her? Ámbar Smith, smiling in public like a love-struck fool. She blamed Simón.

She welcomed the heating system when she entered the mansion. She hadn’t realized how the early evening air had cooled her until she felt the contrast with indoors. Following Simón’s instruction, she rearranged her stuff in her hands and climbed up the staircase.

The minute she walked into her room, she stopped in her tracks.

“What the…”

Half her room had been invaded by bedsheets. From the foot of her bed to the back was some kind of tunnel made of different blankets, which didn’t reach higher than her waist. Some things from her shelves were on top of the ends of the blankets on each side; she gathered they worked as weights so the blankets didn’t fall off. The back of the tunnel opened into her closet. She could hardly see it— It was completely covered by bedsheets. It was like having a tent in her room.

At the front of the tunnel, she recognized the pink round ottoman she usually kept in her closet. It was standing on its side instead of the usual way, so it blocked the entrance to the archway of fabrics. Just then, she watched it slide to the right, leaned against her bedside. Behind it, crawling to fit under the blankets, appeared Simón, grinning from ear to ear.

“Surprise.”

Ámbar’s mouth was hanging open.

“I… What is all this?” She said with a stupefied smile.

“You said you’d never built blanket forts before, so I decided to make one for you,” he announced cheerily. “Come on in, check it out.” He crawled to the back. “Close in your way in!”

Still dumbfounded, Ámbar left her rollerskates and helmet on the floor next to her vanity. Usually, she’d put them back in their place first thing, but considering her closet was now a fort, that would have to wait.

She kicked off her boots and got on her knees to enter the tunnel. As she went inside, the construction became more evident: The blankets were hanging from her vanity’s chair, one of her sofa chairs and her desk on the left side, and from her bed, her second sofa chair and her pink bench on the right. She turned to put the ottoman back in its place and realized it basically worked as a sliding door. Wow, her boyfriend was so clever.

She crawled to the back, where Simón was waiting for her, sitting crossed-legged. The whole floor was covered in her dark grey carpet, and there were many pillows and blankets placed around. Bedsheet walls —there was no other way to describe it— flowed down at her right, left and in front of her closet’s shelves. Ámbar simply couldn’t believe her eyes.

“I asked Mónica to make us some snacks,” Simón said, still smiling, placing a small tray with food and drinks between them as she sat on his left. “I gathered you’d be hungry from skating. Oh! Wait, I forgot something.” He reached for an extension cord on his right and flicked the switch. Light shone all around them. “There you go.”

Ámbar looked around. Two garland lights had lit up, one on each side of them. She looked up, finding an arrangement of tiny golden lights illuminating the bedsheet ceiling. Were those Christmas lights? Where had he even gotten those?

The more she looked, the more details of his work she noticed. The bedsheet walls existed because he’d attached two parallel strings from the back of the closet to the front to hang them from. He’d taken care of hiding the cables of the lights so they wouldn’t disturb the space. There were at least three bedsheets, and she wasn’t even going to count the number of blankets he’d used in all of this.

She remembered his words that morning in the bathtub. “Don’t you feel like we’re in our own little world like this?”

It did feel like that. Like he had built a world just for her.

“Wow…”

“Do you like it?”

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t tear her own from the splendor around her.

“It’s… perfect,” she said with some difficulty. Her throat had gotten tight. No one had ever put this much effort into doing something for her.

“I mean…” Simón relativized, looking around with a little grimace. “I did have to tape a lot of things together because they kept falling off…”

“Do not mess with my fort; it’s perfect,” she countered him strongly, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

Simón chuckled lightly. His eyes stared into hers, and he must have noticed the emotion in them because his expression softened. He didn’t comment on it, just handed her a snack from the tray with a gentle smile. “Let’s eat then.”

They shared the food in comfortable silence until conversation arose naturally. How had her skating gone, how he’d found Christmas lights. It didn’t go any deeper than that.

Once finished, Simón slid the tray outside of the bedsheet wall. “To make sure we don’t knock over anything. I’ll take it back later.”

Ámbar leaned on her hands to move closer to him and kissed him. She needed to do so for a while now. He tasted of the juice he’d just drunk. It stayed on her lips as she pulled away.

“So,” she said curiously, “what do we do now?”

“I’m not sure,” Simón replied, and began to pile some pillows behind them, against the closet’s doors. “Usually when I did this I was with a friend or a cousin.”

Ámbar settled against the pillows as he did the same. “And what did you do with them?”

“We talked about kid stuff, like videogames or cartoons we were watching…”

“Uh huh…”

“Or we imagined that this was our secret base and we were professional spies, and we had to crack some code to get into the bad guys’ files or infiltrate their base to beat them.”

She gave him an appreciative look. “You’re saying I’m dating an ex-CIA agent? That’s hot.”

“Who said I ever retired?” He replied with a flirty brow lift.

Both chuckled. They shared a soft peck and Ámbar snuggled closer to him, circling her arms around his middle and resting her head on his shoulder.

“What about you?” He asked, moving some strands of her hair back. She looked up at him. “What did you play with your friends?”

“We usually invented stories for the barbies.” She dug deep into her memories, bringing back those moments long past that she hadn’t thought of in years. “Like, there was Sofía, Nicole and Camila and they were best friends, and they did everything together, from shopping to saving the world…”

“That sounds very cool.”

“It was, until Camila found out that Nicole had hooked up with her boyfriend.”

His eyes widened. “Nooo.”

“Yes.”

“That bitch.”

“Right? How could she do that to her after she bought her tickets to Milan’s fashion week?”

“The audacity. I hope Camila put her in her place.”

“Hell yeah she did. We cut her hair and everything.”

Both laughed. The things one did as a kid.

“There was this other story,” she continued after a while, “in which the doll was in love with this guy that was about to fly to another country, so she had to run to the airport to catch him before he left to tell him she loved him, but the craziest things happened to her on the way there, making it suuuper difficult.”

“Did she ever catch him?”

Ámbar turned pensive.

“I wanna believe she did,” she responded. “That she told him she loved him, and he loved her too, and they lived happily ever after.” She looked up at Simón.

“Even with the distance?” He asked, caressing her arm softly.

“Well, no one says he could never come back,” she stated. “Or she could’ve gone to him. I’m sure they found a way.”

Simón smiled, looking into her eyes as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I think so too.”

Their gazes stayed locked until the gravity pulled them in. Their mouths met for a long second, fitting perfectly against the other’s. The kiss turned into many— Soft, languid touches of their lips that felt better than even skating.

“Did you do this with your friends too?” She couldn’t help but quip.

Simón let out a laugh. “Definitely not.” And he went back to kissing her.

Ámbar felt light; lighter than she ever remembered being. Safe, calm, warm— Like wrapped in a blanket after having been cold. Simón was like that. Like the first sunny days after winter. Like a warm bath after a long day. Like sitting in front of the hearth after having been drenched in the rain. Little things that made everything better. He was made of them, and he took care of giving her each one.

He didn’t only help her find who she wanted to be, but he also allowed her to be the carefree little girl she never got to be. Simón gave her things she didn’t realize she needed until she lived them.

Ámbar pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes.

“My love?”

“Yes?”

She curled her fingers around his t-shirt, trying to find the words to express everything she felt.

“Really, thank you so much for this. It’s… the nicest thing someone has ever done for me and…” She swallowed. “I love you. So much. So much so that it kind of makes me wanna cry.” She chuckled weakly, a little strangled.

Simón’s eyes danced with hers, deep and soft and yet burning.

He smiled and held one of her hands. “Ámbar Smith… You are my heart. I swear if it beats it’s because of you. Why should you thank me for anything if thanks to you I’m alive?”

Ámbar’s throat got too tight to answer. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, like trying to go to him. All of her, from the tips of her fingers to the soles of her feet, yearned to cling to him.

She pulled his face to hers and joined their lips tightly.

Simón responded like he felt the same, with the same depth and intensity, but she doubted he could love her a third of how much she loved him.

They unclothed each other slowly, kissing reverently each extension of skin they uncovered. Under those sheets and golden lights, Ámbar felt like they were the only thing that existed. The universe started and ended with him— With each touch of his hands, each kiss from his lips.

The fur of the carpet was soft against her back as he slid inside of her. They gasped against each other’s mouths, a shared sound of rightness. Ámbar embraced him with her whole body and breathed in his scent as she followed the gentle rocking.

Simón left kisses on her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. Ámbar dug her fingers into the softness of his hair and she stared at their fort. The lights above looked like stars. Her eyes absorbed each wrinkle, each mix of color, each scotch tape attached to a fabric. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She would’ve changed all her wealth for having this. For having Simón. Always.

He was pushing deep between her legs, as if he too wanted to live inside her and never leave her side. He panted her name and she held him tighter, feeling how the sensations flooded her and stole her breath.

He touched her where they were joined, looked into her eyes, and then everything exploded, turning Ámbar into stardust.

She was barely corporeal as she felt Simón let go, dissolve in her with his breath against her neck.

A tear fell down her cheek.

Simón saw the wet trail when he straightened and, instantly, his face filled with worry. He opened his mouth and Ámbar could see the questions in his eyes. What happened? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?

But he didn’t voice any of them. Because he looked into her eyes and he understood. Just like that, he understood. Ámbar loved him even more for it.

Simón gave her a soft smile, with just the slightest speck of sadness, and kissed the salt off her skin. That was what he always did— Accept the fragile and unsure her, not just the laughs and her best moments.

She used to think she had to be perfect to be loved. He showed her that wasn’t needed.

Simón grabbed a blanket to cover them both and brought her to his chest. Ámbar pressed her forehead to his warm skin and closed her eyes.

“I wish we never had to leave this fort,” she said softly. “We could just stay here forever. Freeze time, right on this moment.”

Then she wouldn’t have to worry anymore. She wouldn’t have to keep secrets. She wouldn’t get scared every time she felt happy. They’d never have the chance to break each other’s hearts.

She felt the vibrations on his chest as Simón hummed.

“That would be nice…” He agreed, weakly gracing her shoulder with movements of his thumb. “But I’m more excited about all the new things I can still share with you.”

Her breathing stopped for a second. Ámbar looked up and found Simón smiling at her, that smile that was the sweetest she had ever known and sometimes wondered how her life had been before she saw it. His eyes were shining, full of possibilities.

Ámbar looked at him, and against all odds, she began to laugh.

“What?” Simón asked, but she just shook her head, looking away in disbelief.

How was it that he could brighten everything with just one phrase? One second to the other, just like that? It wasn’t fair. It almost made it seem like everything she’d been worrying about were just silly things. So not fair.

Ámbar sighed, and after a beat, brought her gaze back to him.

“Do you like pancakes?”

Simón frowned, clearly confused by the change of topic. “Yeah, why?”

Ámbar smiled and settled back with her head against his chest.

“No reason.”

…

..

.

--------------------------------

(I had never written Gastina, so apology to the shippers if I didn’t get it right, but I believe it turned out pretty decent.)

Not a lot of plot advancement on this one, but I really wanted to give them, and you, this one sweet moment to hold onto. I've had the draft for this last scene since July 16th of *last year*, just so you get an idea of how long I have to wait to post the things I have in mind.

I really love this chapter, I hope you do too <3

I'll leave some reference pictures here. The first one is a drawing that I made. It was only meant for me to visualize the fort, so I apologize for the mess. If I had planned back then to share it with you guys, I would've made it prettier 😅

[stylesnews]

A bathroom figures significantly in the origin stories of at least two classic One Direction songs. The first will be familiar to any fan: Songwriter and producer Savan Kotecha was sitting on the toilet in a London hotel room, when he heard his wife say, “I feel so ugly today.” The words that popped into his head would shape the chorus of One Direction’s unforgettable 2011 debut, “What Makes You Beautiful.”

The second takes place a few years later. Another hotel room in England — this one in Manchester — where songwriters and producers Julian Bunetta and John Ryan were throwing back Cucumber Collins cocktails and tinkering with a beat. Liam Payne was there, too. At one point, Liam got up to use the bathroom and when he re-emerged, he was singing a melody. They taped it immediately. Most of it was mumbled — a temporary placeholder — but there was one phrase: “Better than words…” A few hours later, on the bus to another city, another show — Bunetta and Ryan can’t remember where — Payne asked, maybe having a laugh, what if the rest of the song was just lyrics from other songs?

“Songs in general, you’re just sort of waiting for an idea to bonk you on the head,” Ryan says from a Los Angeles studio with Bunetta. “And if you’re sort of winking at it, laughing at it — we were probably joking, what if [the next line was] ‘More than a feeling’? Well, that would actually be tight!”

“Better Than Words,” closed One Direction’s third album, Midnight Memories. It was never a single, but became a fan-favorite live show staple. It’s a mid-tempo headbanger that captures the essence of what One Direction is, and always was: One of the great rock and roll bands of the 21st century.

July 23rd marks One Direction’s 10th anniversary, the day Simon Cowell told Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson that they would progress on The X Factor as a group. Between that date and their last live performance (so far, one can hope) on December 31st, 2015, they released five albums, toured the world four times — twice playing stadiums — and left a trove of Top 10 hits for a devoted global fan base that came to life at the moment social media was re-defining the contours of fandom.

It’d been a decade since the heyday of ‘N Sync and Backstreet Boys, and the churn of generations demanded a new boy band. One Direction’s songs were great and their charisma and chemistry undeniable, but what made them stick was a sound unlike anything else in pop — rooted in guitar rock at a time when that couldn’t have been more passé.

Kotecha, who met 1D on The X Factor and shepherded them through their first few years, is a devoted student of boy band history. He first witnessed their power back in the Eighties when New Kids on the Block helped his older sister through her teens. The common thread linking all great boy bands, from New Kids to BSB, he says, is, “When they’d break, they’d come out of nowhere, sounding like nothing that’s on the radio.”

In 2010, Kotecha remembers, “everybody was doing this sort of Rihanna dance pop.” But that just wasn’t a sound One Direction could pull off (the Wanted only did it once); and famously, they didn’t even dance. Instead, the reference points for 1D went all the way back to the source of contemporary boy bands.

“Me and Simon would talk about how [One Direction] was Beatles-esque, Monkees-esque,” Kotecha continues. “They had such big personalities. I felt like a kid again when I was around them. And I felt like the only music you could really do that with is fun, pop-y guitar songs. It would come out of left field and become something owned by the fans.”

“The guitar riff had to be so simple that my friend’s 15-year-old daughter could play it and put a cover to YouTube,” says Carl Falk

To craft that sound on 1D’s first two albums, Up All Night and Take Me Home, Kotecha worked mostly with Swedish songwriters-producers Carl Falk and Rami Yacoub. They’d all studied at the Max Martin/Cheiron Studios school of pop craftsmanship, and Falk says they were confident they could crack the boy band code once more with songs that recalled BSB and ‘N Sync, but replaced the dated synths and pianos with guitars.

The Best Face Masks For Running and CyclingHere’s how to stay covered up while on your bike, on a jog, or for your next workout outdoorsAd By Rolling Stone See More

The greatest thing popular music can do is make someone else think, “I can do that,” and One Direction’s music was designed with that intent. “The guitar riff had to be so simple that my friend’s 15-year-old daughter could play it and put a cover to YouTube,” Falk says. “If you listen to ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ or ‘One Thing,’ they have two-finger guitar riffs that everyone who can play a bit of guitar can learn. That was all on purpose.”

One Direction famously finished third on The X Factor, but Cowell immediately signed them to his label, Syco Music. They’d gone through one round of artist development boot camp on the show, and another followed on an X Factor live tour in spring 2011. They’d developed an onstage confidence, but the studio presented a new challenge. “We had to create who should do what in One Direction,” Falk says. To solve the puzzle the band’s five voices presented, they chose the kitchen sink method and everyone tried everything.

“They were searching for themselves,” Falk adds. “It was like, Harry, let’s just record him; he’s not afraid of anything. Liam’s the perfect song starter, and then you put Zayn on top with this high falsetto. Louis found his voice when we did ‘Change Your Mind.’ It was a long trial for everyone to find their strengths and weaknesses, but that was also the fun part.” Falk also gave Niall some of his first real guitar lessons; there’s video of them performing “One Thing” together, still blessedly up on YouTube.

“What Makes You Beautiful” was released September 11th, 2011 in the U.K. and debuted at Number One on the singles chart there — though the video had dropped a month prior. While One Direction’s immediate success in the U.K. and other parts of Europe wasn’t guaranteed, the home field odds were favorable. European markets have historically been kinder to boy bands than the U.S.; ‘N Sync and Backstreet Boys found huge success abroad before they conquered home. To that end, neither Kotecha nor Falk were sure 1D would break in the U.S. Falk even says of conceiving the band’s sound, “We didn’t want it to sound too American, because this was not meant — for us, at least — to work in America. This was gonna work in the U.K. and maybe outside the U.K.”

Stoking anticipation for “What Makes You Beautiful” by releasing the video on YouTube before the single dropped, preceded the strategy Columbia Records (the band’s U.S. label) adopted for Up All Night. Between its November 2011 arrival in the U.K. and its U.S. release in March 2012, Columbia eschewed traditional radio strategies and built hype on social media. One Direction had been extremely online since their X Factor days, engaging with fans and spending their downtime making silly videos to share. One goofy tune, made with Kotecha, called “Vas Happenin’ Boys?” was an early viral hit.

“They instinctively had this — and it might just be a generational thing — they just knew how to speak to their fans,” Kotecha says. “And they did that by being themselves. That was a unique thing about these boys: When the cameras turned on, they didn’t change who they were.”

Social media was flooded with One Direction contests and petitions to bring the band to fans’ towns. Radio stations were inundated with calls to play “What Makes You Beautiful” long before it was even available. When it did finally arrive, Kotecha (who was in Sweden at the time) remembers staying up all night to watch it climb the iTunes chart with each refresh.

Take Me Home, was recorded primarily in Stockholm and London during and after their first world tour. The success of Up All Night had attracted an array of top songwriting talent — Ed Sheeran even penned two hopeless romantic sad lad tunes, “Little Things” and “Over Again” — but Kotecha, Falk and Yacoub grabbed the reins, collaborating on six of the album’s 13 tracks. In charting their course, Kotecha returned to his boy band history: “My theory was, you give them a similar sound on album two, and album three is when you start moving on.”

Still, there was the inherent pressure of the second album to contend with. The label wanted a “What Makes You Beautiful, Part 2,” and evidence that the 1D phenomenon wasn’t slowing down appeared outside the window of the Stockholm studio: so many fans, the street had to be shut down. Kotecha even remembers seeing police officers with missing person photos, combing through the girls camped outside, looking for teens to return to their parents.

At this pivotal moment, One Direction made it clear that they wanted a greater say in their artistic future. Kotecha admits he was wary at first, but the band was determined. To help manage the workload, Kotecha had brought in two young songwriters, Kristoffer Fogelmark and Albin Nedler, who’d arrived with a handful of ideas, including a chorus for a booming power ballad called “Last First Kiss.”

“We thought, while we’re busy recording vocals, whoever’s not busy can go write songs with these two guys, and then we’ll help shape them as much as we can,” Kotecha says. “And to our pleasant surprise, the songs were pretty damn good.”

At this pivotal moment, too, songwriters Julian Bunetta and John Ryan also met the band. Friends from the Berklee College of Music, Bunetta and Ryan had moved out to L.A. and cut a few tracks, but still had no hits to their name. They entered the Syco orbit after scoring work on the U.S. version of The X Factor, and were asked if they wanted to try writing a song for Take Me Home. “I was like, yeah definitely,” Bunetta says. “They sold five million albums? Hell yeah, I want to make some money.”

Working with Jamie Scott, who’d written two songs on Up All Night (“More Than This” and “Stole My Heart”), Bunetta and Ryan wrote “C’mon, C’mon” — a blinding hit of young love that rips down a dance pop speedway through a comically oversized wall of Marshall stacks. It earned them a trip to London. Bunetta admits to thinking the whole 1D thing was “a quick little fad” ahead of their first meeting with the band, but their charms were overwhelming. Everyone hit it off immediately.

“Niall showed me his ass,” Bunetta remembers of the day they recorded, “They Don’t Know About Us,” one of five songs they produced for Take Me Home (two are on the deluxe edition). “The first vocal take, he went in to sing, did a take, I was looking down at the computer screen and was like, ‘On this line, can you sing it this way?’ And I looked over and he was mooning me. I was like, ‘I love this guy!’”

Take Me Home dropped November 9th, just nine days short of Up All Night’s first anniversary. With only seven weeks left in 2012, it became the fourth best-selling album of the year globally, moving 4.4 million copies, per the IFPI; it fell short of Adele’s 21, Taylor Swift’s Red and 1D’s own Up All Night, which had several extra months to sell 4.5 million copies.

Kotecha, Falk and Yacoub’s tracks anchored the album. Songs like “Kiss You,” “Heart Attack” and “Live While We’re Young” were pristine pop rock that One Direction delivered with full delirium, vulnerability and possibility — the essence of the teen — in voices increasingly capable of navigating all the little nuances of that spectrum. And the songs 1D helped write (“Last First Kiss,” “Back for You” and “Summer Love”) remain among the LP’s best.

“You saw that they caught the bug and were really good at it,” Kotecha says of their songwriting. “And moving forward, you got the impression that that was the way for them.”

Like clockwork, the wheels began to churn for album three right after Take Me Home dropped. But unlike those first two records, carving out dedicated studio time for LP3 was going to be difficult — on February 23rd, 2013, One Direction would launch a world tour in London, the first of 123 concerts they’d play that year. They’d have to write and record on the road, and for Kotecha and Falk — both of whom had just had kids — that just wasn’t possible.

But it was also time for a creative shift. Even Kotecha knew that from his boy band history: album three is, after all, when you start moving on. One Direction was ready, too. Kotecha credits Louis, the oldest member of the group, for “shepherding them into adulthood, away from the very pop-y stuff of the first two albums. He was leading the charge to make sure that they had a more mature sound. And at the time, being in it, it was a little difficult for me, Rami and Carl to grasp — but hindsight, that was the right thing to do.”

“For three years, this was our schedule,” Bunetta says. “We did X Factor October, November, December. Took off January. February, flew to London. We’d gather ideas with the band, come up with sounds, hang out. Then back to L.A. for March, produce some stuff, then go out on the road with them in April. Get vocals, write a song or two, come back for May, work on the vocals, and produce the songs we wrote on the road. Back to London in June-ish. Back here for July, produce it up. Go back on tour in August, get last bits of vocals, mix in September, back to X Factor in October, album out in November, January off, start it all over again.”

That cycle began in early 2013 when Bunetta and Ryan flew to London for a session that lasted just over a week, but yielded the bulk of Midnight Memories. With songwriters Jamie Scott, Wayne Hector and Ed Drewett they wrote “Best Song Ever” and “You and I,” and, with One Direction, “Diana” and “Midnight Memories.” Bunetta and Ryan’s initial rapport with the band strengthened — they were a few years older, but as Bunetta jokes, “We act like we’re 19 all the time anyway.” Years ago, Bunetta posted an audio clip documenting the creation of “Midnight Memories” — the place-holder chorus was a full-throated, perfectly harmonized, “I love KFC!”

For the most part, Bunetta, Ryan and 1D doubled down on the rock sound their predecessors had forged, but there was one outlier from that week. A stunning bit of post-Mumford festival folk buoyed by a new kind of lyrical and vocal maturity called “Story of My Life.”

“This was a make or break moment for them,” Bunetta says. “They needed to grow up, or they were gonna go away — and they wanted to grow up. To get to the level they got to, you need more than just your fan base. That song extended far beyond their fan base and made people really pay attention.”

Production on Midnight Memories continued on the road, where, like so many bands before them, One Direction unlocked a new dimension to their music. Tour engineer Alex Oriet made it possible, Ryan says, building makeshift vocal booths in hotel rooms by flipping beds up against the walls. Writing and recording was crammed in whenever — 20 minutes before a show, or right after another two-hour performance.

“It preserved the excitement of the moment,” Bunetta says. “We were just there, doing it, marinating in it at all times. You’re capturing moments instead of trying to recreate them. A lot of times we’d write a song, sing it in the hotel, produce it, then fly back out to have them re-sing it — and so many times the demo vocals were better. They hadn’t memorized it yet. They were still in the mood. There was a performance there that you couldn’t recreate.”

Midnight Memories arrived, per usual, in November 2013. And, per usual, it was a smash. The following year, 1D brought their songs to the environment they always deserved — stadiums around the world — and amid the biggest shows of their career, they worked on their aptly-titled fourth album Four. The 123 concerts 1D had played the year before had strengthened their combined vocal prowess in a way that opened up an array of new possibilities.

“We could use their voices on Four to make something sound more exciting and bigger, rather than having to add too many guitars, synths or drums,” Ryan says.

“They were so much more dynamic and subtle, too,” Bunetta adds. “I don’t think they could’ve pulled off a song like ‘Night Changes’ two albums prior; or the nuance to sing soft and emotionally on ‘Fireproof.’ It takes a lot of experience to deliver a restrained vocal that way.”

“A lot of the songs were double,” Bunetta says, “like somebody might be singing about their girlfriend, but there was another meaning that applied to the group as well.”

Musically, Four was 1D’s most expansive album yet — from the sky-high piano rock of “Steal My Girl” to the tender, tasteful groove of “Fireproof” — and it had the emotional range to match. Now in their early twenties, songs like “Where Do Broken Hearts Go,” “No Control,” “Fool’s Gold” and “Clouds” redrew the dramas and euphorias of adolescence with the new weight, wit and wanton winks of impending adulthood. One Direction wasn’t growing up normally in any sense of the word, but they were becoming songwriters capable of drawing out the most relatable elements from their extraordinary circumstances — like on “Change Your Ticket,” where the turbulent love affairs of young jet-setters are distilled to the universal pang of a long goodbye. There were real relationships inspiring these stories, but now that One Direction was four years into being the biggest band on the planet, it was natural that the relationships within the band would make it into the music as well.

“I think that on Four,” Bunetta says with a slight pause, “there were some tensions going on. A lot of the songs were double — like somebody might be singing about their girlfriend, but there was another meaning that applied to the group as well.”

He continues: “It’s tough going through that age, having to spread your wings with so many eyeballs on you, so much money and no break. It was tough for them to carve out their individual manhood, space and point of view, while learning how to communicate with each other. Even more than relationship things that were going on, that was the bigger blanket that was in there every day, seeping into the songs.”

Bunetta remembers Zayn playing him “Pillowtalk” and a few other songs for the first time through a three a.m. fog of cigarette smoke in a hotel room in Japan.

“Fucking amazing,” he says. “They were fucking awesome. I know creatively he wasn’t getting what he needed from the way that the albums were being made on the road. He wanted to lock himself in the studio and take his time, be methodical. And that just wasn’t possible.”

A month or so later, and 16 shows into One Direction’s “On the Road Again” tour, Zayn left the band. Bunetta and Ryan agree it wasn’t out of the blue: “He was frustrated and wanted to do things outside of the band,” Bunetta says. “It’s a lot for a young kid, all those shows. We’d been with them for a bunch of years at this point — it was a matter of when. You just hoped that it would wait until the last album.”

Still, Bunetta compares the loss to having a finger lopped off, and he acknowledges that Harry, Niall, Liam and Louis struggled to find their bearings as One Direction continued with their stadium tour and next album, Made in the A.M. Just as band tensions bubbled beneath the songs on Four, Zayn’s departure left an imprint on Made in the A.M. Not with any overt malice, but a song like “Drag Me Down,” Bunetta says, reflects the effort to bounce back. Even Niall pushing his voice to the limits of his range on that song wouldn’t have been necessary if Zayn and his trusty falsetto were available.

But Made in the A.M. wasn’t beholden to this shake-up. Bunetta and Ryan cite “Olivia” as a defining track, one that captures just how far One Direction had come as songwriters: They’d written it in 45 minutes, after wasting a whole day trying to write something far worse.

“When you start as a songwriter, you write a bunch of shitty songs, you get better and you keep getting better,” Ryan says. “But then you can get finicky and you’re like, ‘Maybe I have to get smart with this lyric.’ By Made in the A.M. … they were coming into their own in the sense of picking up a guitar, messing around and feeling something, rather than being like, ‘How do I put this puzzle together?’”

After Zayn’s departure, Bunetta and Ryan said it became clear that Made in the A.M. would be One Direction’s last album before some break of indeterminate length. The album boasts the palpable tug of the end, but to One Direction’s credit, that finality is balanced by a strong sense of forever. It’s literally the last sentiment they leave their fans on album-closer “History,” singing, “Baby don’t you know, baby don’t you know/We can live forever.”

In a way, Made in the A.M. is about One Direction as an entity. Not one that belonged to the group, but to everyone they spent five years making music for. Four years since their hiatus and 10 years since their formation, the fans remain One Direction’s defining legacy. Even as all five members have settled into solo careers, Ryan notes that baseless rumors of any kind of reunion — even a meager Zoom call — can still set the internet on fire. The old songs remain potent, too: Carl Falk says his nine-year-old son has taken to making TikToks to 1D tracks.

“Most of them weren’t necessarily musicians before this happened, but they loved music, and they found a love of creating, writing and playing,” Kotecha says

There are plenty of metrics to quantify One Direction’s reach, success and influence. The hard numbers — album sales and concert stubs — are staggering on their own, but the ineffable is always more fun. One Direction was such a good band that a fan, half-jokingly, but then kinda seriously, started a GoFundMe to buy out their contract and grant them full artistic freedom. One Direction was such a good band that songwriters like Kotecha and Falk — who would go on to make hits with Ariana Grande, the Weeknd and Nicki Minaj — still think about the songs they could’ve made with them. One Direction was such a good band that Mitski covered “Fireproof.”

But maybe it all comes down to the most ineffable thing of all: Chance. Kotecha compares success on talent shows like The X Factor to waking up one morning and being super cut — but now, to keep that figure, you have to work out at a 10, without having done the gradual work to reach that level. That’s the downfall for so many acts, but One Direction was not only able, but willing, to put in the work.

“They’re one of the only acts from those types of shows that managed to do it for such a long time,” Kotecha says. “Five years is a long time for a massive pop star to go nonstop. I know it was tiring, but they were fantastic sports about it. They appreciated and understood the opportunity they had — and, as you can see, they haven’t really stopped since. Most of them weren’t necessarily musicians before this happened, but they loved music, and they found a love of creating, writing and playing. To have these boys — that had been sort of randomly picked — to also have that? It will never be repeated.”

[hjh-ceilo-monster]

Dear letter... To you... (KTH)

Summary : There was no connection between these two strangers accept a letter in one’s hand.  

Story inspo : a story from a wedding

Author POV.

*click*

The camera captured the scene of an empty alley. It was just another ordinary day for everyone to wake up and start their routines. In this little town, almost everyone knew each other-despite a few unfamiliar faces who might appear around the street.

Kim Taehyung was one of them, a wanderlust soul. He found this little town not long ago on a travel site. Visiting this beautiful and classic area for a week, he could tell that he fell in love, even if; there was nothing much to attract a large group of tourists.

*click*

Taehyung snapped another shot. This place was nothing but calming for him. He took a turn at a random corner and met with a local restaurant. Taehyung opened the wooden door. The bell shimmed as a signal of a new customer.

“Good day sir, what would you like to order?” Taehyung looked above the waiter for a menu.

“Any tradition dishes?” Taehyung asked. Every dish seemed to look the same since there were no note up on the board.

After having description from the waiter, he decided his dish. A waitress, who finished preparing a table, gestured Taehyung to take a seat.

“What would you like for today?” 

The door opened and closed from time to time. Taehyung was still in the restaurant and enjoyed his meal. He looked through a photo album. He was so busy with his camera without noticing that someone approached him.

“Sir, can this lady have a seat here? The restaurant has no seats available at the moment.” The waitress interrupted him. Taehyung didn’t look up, but nodded as an answer.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Taehyung POV.

I felt like I was acting rude. However, I didn’t know how to start a conversation with the stranger either. I sat in silence and continued to play with my camera-taking the picture of the lake outside the window.

A glance at the person, but I only met a journal book. The person behind the book was so focused on the paper. Drawing or writing? I looked at the actions and kept those questions in my head.

I then put my attention back into my camera. I snapped a few shots and checked them. I did it again and again like a loop, not caring for the stranger who sat opposite me.

And both of us continued sitting there in silence.

“Have a good day miss.” 

I looked up and met with an empty seat. The loud bell sound then appeared out of nowhere. I assumed that might come from a clock tower nearby. I checked my watch and gasped.

“I’ve been here for hour and a half already?” I started packing my camera and some postcards that I didn’t finish writing.

The moment I stood up and stepped toward the door, one of the waiters stopped me. He handed me a piece of brown ripped paper and a postcard.

“These aren’t mine.”

“It was on your table, sir.” I didn’t care about it that much and put both into my pocket.

  ‘What a tiring day.’ I thought to myself. I strolled down the eat part of the town today. The beach was nice. I could feel the breeze wash over me and left a fresh sea salt scent.

“What could it be?” I picked up the thing I got in the morning. Inspecting the handwriting, it must belong to that stranger. She surely had a neat yet unique handwriting. I assumed these were a part of her journal.

There were a few translucent color dots on a paper. She spilled something? She painted? I flipped the paper and searched for any clue to find her. Fortunately, there was something.

“Interesting.”

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Author POV.

2 years later

“Any meeting?” Taehyung asked his secretary to check his schedule. He had been busy for awhile after his father stepped down from the position.

“Sir, you have a meeting around…” His secretary reviewed his schedule.

“For the project, we have an appointment with the artist in the evening.”

The secretary closed her iPad and left him in the elevator. Taehyung went up to another floor before he left. He then stepped into his office.

  “Sir, the artist arrived.”

After he ended the call, he stepped into a metal box. The door closed and the digital screen ran a set of numbers as he went down.

“Here is the copy of their plan.” Taehyung received the file and scrolled through the plan. Checking the details, he decided to wait for their presentation.

Everyone stood up and bowed to him as a greeting when the glass door slid open. He took a seat and the others followed.

“Shall we start?”  When he asked, a woman stood up from her seat. She walked toward the screen that had already prepared the presentation.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Y/N POV.

‘Here we go.’ I thought to myself and the glass door slid open.

The CEO stepped inside the room. His every step echoed in the room-making my heartbeat went faster. When we all took our seats, I then noticed his feature. He looked young, probably around my age. His posture was calm yet intimidate.

“Shall we start?” Ok, y/n, you got this. I stood up with confident. I tried my best to look calm. If anyone could read my thought, they would know how nervous I was.

I started by explaining my inspiration a little bit before moving on to the concept and its details. It was nerve-wracking since the guy stared at me throughout my presentation. I felt him monitoring my moves, and that made me anxious.

“Is there any question?” Now, time to face the real anxiety.

I was right. He then started asking millions of questions about my idea.

  The scribbling sound was loud and clear. I was now sitting in the CEO’s cabinet. He noted down the details while I explained. He dismissed everyone from the meeting half an hour ago since their working hour was end.

“Have we ever met before?” He asked a random question out of the blue.

“I..I don’t think so.” Why did I stutter?

I saw him smiled a little. Did I say something wrong? He knew me before? I was sure that I didn’t meet him before. My forgetful self started recalling his face.

“My secretary will contact you for our next appointment.” I nodded and stood up-ready to leave.

“Oh, can you leave your personal contact?  In case, we have to call you for the urgent work.” I then left him my personal contact and left the place.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Author POV.

With the contact you left a week ago, Taehyung always messaged you. Even if it was about work, you were a little puzzled. Is it common for that huge interior company to let the boss directly contact any worker (even though you weren’t his employee directly)?

The clock was ticking. The sky gradually changed its shade. Everyone continued working on the job as usual. Taehyung was so busy surfing through the site and gallery of the artist. Lucky that he had his own office because if someone found him smiling like an idiot in front of the screen right now, they would think he was weird.

“I’ll see you soon.” He spoke to himself while looking through your work.

After Taehyung met you, to say Taehyung was head over heal into you wasn’t an exaggerated liar. He was even more obsessed with you when he saw your handwriting. He got his answer that you were ‘that’ stranger.

  “Why are we here today? I thought we are going to work on the project.” You and Taehyung got closer after a week of him messaging to you unstop about work (A/N: *Ahem* work you say?)

“Well, this is also work, is it not?” His boxy smiled plaster his face.

“At the art exhibition?”

“Yeah, because I want learn about them. It can help me better understanding what you are doing and fuse them into my collection as well.”

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Taehyung POV.

‘Is that excuse work?’ I looked at her face. She seemed to not catch my real intention. I still put on my signature innocent smile-using it to persuade her.

“We better to be hurry then. Today we also needed to buy my equipment.” I succeeded. She entered the place without asking any further.

I snapped many shots when we were inside. She was so passionate about the exhibition. I usually preferred a peaceful atmosphere while walking in the exhibition hall. However, the way she kept talking about each piece of art, I didn’t find it annoying or boring.

“You seemed to be into this piece. Do you want it to be the main pantone of your collection?” I got out of my head and nodded. She then chuckled lightly.

‘Ah, I embarrassed myself, didn’t I?’

“Ok, we should leave then.”

  We were here for a few hours now. She was lost in her world. When she picked the colors, she wouldn’t forget to ask for my comment. If I approved, she would be happy. Her eyes glowed thousands of lights. I couldn’t help but stare. She was indeed passionate about our work.

‘Our?’ When I realized that I used that word, I somehow felt a tingle feeling inside.

“We can get out of here soon. Do you think this is enough?” I snapped back to reality. I then met a cart full of art tools.

“I think these will do.” I emphasized the word these to remind her that it was enough.

“Sorry, I picked them for personal purpose as well. Hope you won’t mind.” I gave her a disbelief look while she grinned.

“If you mind, you can cut it from my salary.” She pouted and wheeled the cart.

‘Cute’

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Author POV.

Little by little, you fell for Taehyung. It was a feeling that gradually develop without your notice. By the time you realized it, you had already established your status with him.

“And again, you bring me to somewhere out of our schedule.”

“And you like it as always.” You rolled your eyes and entered the restaurant.

Entering a familiar elegant restaurant, a waitress led you both toward the VIP table. Guess who booked that?

The waiter then approached your table and left the menu on the table. He stood there and waited patiently for your order. You finished ordering your meal in the blink of an eye since you only had one fav dish. However, for Taehyung, it took ages to order.

“Why is it so quiet today?” You asked. You glanced around the floor and saw no one other than your table.

“Oh, I booked the whole floor today.” Taehyung answered it as if it was a normal thing to do.

“You did what?” You looked at the guy with a shocked face. He noticed your expression and chuckled.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Y/N POV.

This was unbelievable. Why on earth did he need to book the whole floor? I had no idea of what was on his mind. Being close with Taehyung, I learned one thing. That one thing was sometimes you needed no rational thought to do something.

The quiet atmosphere then got replaced when a musician started playing some tunes. The soft melody filled the air.

‘He is up to something?’

I monitored his expressions and actions, but I didn’t get the answer. I couldn’t keep the curiosity any longer. I opened my mouth to fire out the question.

“Please, enjoy the meal.”

‘Lucky you, Tae.’ A waitress interrupted me before I could ask. Both of us started eating our meal.

I felt the meal was more delicious. Is it because of the atmosphere?

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Taehyung POV.

‘Phew she didn’t ask anything yet.’ I thought to myself while eating the meal. Thanks to that waitress, she didn’t get her chance. I didn’t want her to know my surprise just yet.

Curious right?

Today, I booked our favorite restaurant to discuss on the work like always. It looked ordinary until here. Now, the surprise plan will start.

I signaled a waiter who stood beside. He knew that it was the time for the special menu. Waiting for a bit, a box finally landed on the middle of the table.

“Open it.” I ordered her. She gave me a suspiscious look before carefully opened it.

*gasp*

“And that is your answer.” I spoke. I knew what she was about to ask before our meal arrived. 

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Author POV.

“That was such a lovely story. I could see ladies in the venue look jelous at you both.”

Wedding day

The MC spoke. Taehyung give his signature smile. He isn’t shy about it. You can tell that he is bragging your story to the audience.

“And I told her about the letter. I still remembered how she was surprise and then her face flush. It was really cute.” The audience awe at him.

“Ok, we will now moving on to the surprise of tonight.” Taehyung glance at the MC. He remembers that the next thing is throwing the bouquet.

“You didn’t expect it, did you? Since you gave me such a surprise that day, I am going to give you one today.”

You look at your husband who look so lost. You chuckle at his expression before 2 staff step on stage with a gift. They then hand it to him and you wait for his reaction.

“Oh my god.” He looks shock when he tears off a wrapper. It was a sketch of him from the day you met him.

“So is this why you didn’t have any conversation with me or even look at me?” He smirks and teases you.

“There are more.”

The MC now hand him a box which is much smaller than the first gift. He  shakes a few time after recieves them. When he know that isn’t going to help him to guess, he open the bow.

He gasp so do the aucience. His eyes filled up with tears. His hands are shaking. The MC take the little gift out of his hand and show it to the audience. The audience go wild. The cheering and whistling sound echo in the venue. You then grab the mic and speak.

“Congratulation my dear, you are going to be papa.”

Author note : This story was inspired by the story from a wedding of my friend’s cousin. Her cousin met his bride because he found her note. Their story then began. My friend told me the groom’s comment about the bride. “I thought the handwriting was beautiful. When I finally found the owner, she was more beautiful.” It sounded cheesy, but that was their story. I hope you enjoy this one. See you in the next os.

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

The Intern

The Intern: A Luke x Reader One Shot

Luke Patterson x Reader

Title: The Intern

Words: 2,755

Summary:, Sunset Curve are posing for the photos for their new album. Y/N is the photographer’s intern who catches Luke’s eye.

TW: None

Author’s notes: This idea popped into my head after Charlie posted the photo of him being photographed. It kinda got away from me and went on a bit of a tangent, but I quite liked the outcome. I hope you do too.

“Guys, this way please. That’s right, just there. Perfect.”

Your boss, Caleb Covington, photographer to the stars, filled the large studio with his vibrant voice and even more vibrant clothing choices as you sit behind the laptop making sure the shots coming through are suitable for use.

All you’ve ever wanted is to be a photographer, and this internship was the first step on the ladder to the career of your dreams.

“Hey, Y/N, can you do me a favor sweetheart?” You stand and walk over to where Caleb is adjusting the lighting as the guys of Sunset Curve go for an outfit change.

“What’s up, boss?”

“There’s a thrift store a block over can you run over and grab whatever scarves they have?” He hands you a handful of money. This was common, Caleb would start a shoot, get hit with a vision, and then send you off to chase down obscure props. “Also, as many fake flowers as you can. I’ll make sure everyone takes a lunch break while you’re out, so you don’t need to rush.”

“Sure thing. Give me an hour?”

“Take your time.” Caleb reattached the camera to the tripod in front of him. “Also, take the small canon with you. There’s some great street art that could be used for these guys.”

“Thanks, boss.”

You grab the bag containing a small point and click camera and shoulder the strap. As you leave the studio, you realize how supportive Caleb is of your dreams despite the bad rumors that are constantly floating around about him. He’s never given you occasion to doubt him and he allows you to use the equipment in the studio whenever you want, and often encourages you to take photos from behind the scenes.

Walking along the sunny New York streets, you take photos of the amazing architecture and as you near the thrift store, you see the street art Caleb told you about. It’s gorgeous. Six feet tall, bright blue angel wings cover a brick wall and you take a few shots, change angles and take some more. Eventually, you lower the camera and enter the thrift store.

Within ten minutes, you have a bagful of scarves and a handful of fake flowers and are ready to head back, not before stopping off at your favorite delicatessen to buy your lunch.

Back at the studio, Caleb and the guys are sitting around a round table, chatting.

“Where do you want these, Caleb?” You ask waving the flowers at him.

“Oh great you’re back. Just hand them over to Kayla in props, we’ll work out what to do with them after lunch. Come and join us.”

It wasn’t very often Caleb invited you to mix with his clients, so you jump at the chance. You pull out a chair and sit down as Caleb introduces you to the four guys that are around your age.

“Y/N, this is Reggie, Bobby, Alex, and Luke.” Each of the guys give her a wave in greeting, but there’s something about the last guy, Luke, that has you locking eyes with him for a moment. With a cough, you look away and take a bite of your sandwich, but you can still feel his hazel eyes on you.

:: ::

Once lunch is over, the guys head back into make-up for a touch up while Caleb rearranges the while space, placing the flowers you bought around the space. The scarves are hung in the window, which is opened to let in a breeze, moving the material in waves.

As he works, you upload the photos of the street art you took and begin to edit them.

“Wow, those are amazing.” A voice behind you makes you jump. Turning around, you see Luke staring at the screen in front of you. “Did you take those?”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks.”

“Y/N, are those street art shots ready yet?” Caleb calls out as he walks over to join you and Luke. “Oh, honey. These are fantastic and will look amazing as a backdrop for the guys.” He turns to Luke. “What do you think?”

“Hell yeah. This album cover is gonna be gnarly.”

You feel your face heat up from the blush that’s creeping over your skin at the compliments you’re not used to receiving. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, you turn away and focus back on the screen, allowing the sounds around you to fade into a pleasant buzz as you work.

“Girl, you have an admirer.” Flynn the make-up artist Caleb always uses creeps up behind you.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, trying to concentrate, but the guys of Sunset Curve are in your direct eyeline above the lip of the open laptop and they all look amazing.

“That guy, Luke. He can’t stop looking at you.” At her words, you can’t help but look over at him where he’s standing on a windowsill, made into a silhouette by the sunlight flooding through the glass behind him. You lock eyes for longer than is necessary. “Oh, you like him…” Flynn nudges your shoulder with hers.

“Shut up,” you hiss, worried people will hear her.

“Nuh uh. I’m making the most of this. Can I just say, the guy smells gorgeous?” With a laugh, Flynn retreats back to her corner of the studio and begins packing up her equipment. You watch her and when she turns to wave at you, you can’t help but flip her off, making her laugh even harder.

As the day draws to an end, you’ve packed away all of Caleb’s gear and locked it in the huge safe in his office, apart from the camera he’s been using all day. Sunset Curve are with Flynn having make-up removed and have changed back into their own clothes.

As you and Caleb upload the photos to his laptop, you can’t help but stare at Luke’s bare arms exposed by the cut off band tee he’s wearing.

“I’m just gonna grab some air, boss.” You tell Caleb, suddenly needing to be out of the studio.

“Why don’t you call it a day? I can finish up with these later this evening.”

With a grin, you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before going to grab your bag.

“Hey, Y/N,” Flynn called out from her corner. So much for a quick escape. You head over to where she’s putting the last of her stuff away in her huge case on wheels.

“What’s up?” You ask, feeling four pairs of eyes on you as you approach Flynn, avoiding looking at the guys watching you.

“Are we going for a drink?” she asks you, finally looking up at you.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on it.” Immediately, you regret saying the words as Flynn’s face screws up. It’s Friday, you’ve both been working crazy hours for Caleb, and you know you both need to let off steam.

“Oh, come onnnnnn. Julie’s meeting us.” Julie, the third in your trio of friends, worked as a studio musician nearby. “First round of shots is on me.” Flynn was in wheedle mode and knew you couldn’t resist. You heard chuckles from behind you and turned to look at Sunset curve seemingly enjoying the show. You’d forgotten they were there and felt your blush return.

“Oh, go on then, but I need to go home and get changed. I’ve been in these clothes all day.”

“Honey, no. You forget where we work.” Flynn grabbed your hand and pulled you behind a changing screen where an outfit was already laid out for you.

“This looks suspiciously li-” Flynn held a slender finger against your lips.

“Just get changed.” She disappeared, leaving you alone, You could hear her chatting as you pulled your clothes off and pulled on the ones she’d picked out for you, knowing there was no way she’d let you get away with wearing anything else. As you pulled on the cut off band tee, you were glad you wore on of your favorite bras – a black lacy number – as the arm holes were crazy huge.

The skinny jeans had been rolled, but because you had on heavy duty combat boots, you unrolled them then pulled your boots on.

“You look great.” Flynn reappeared, armed with a few essentials. With a sigh you let her attack your face with eyeliner, mascara, and a bright red lipstick. “Perfect, even if I do say so myself. Fluff up your hair, then get your booty out here.”

When you finally emerged from behind the screen, the conversation between Flynn and Sunset Curve – why were they still even there? – paused as all five of them turned to look at you. Reggie, at least you thought that was his name. Beyond Luke, you were a bit fuzzy, let out a low whistle.

“Dang, girl.”

“I hate you.” You hissed under your breath at Flynn who was grinning like a fool.

“No you don’t.” She linked arms with you and led the six of you out of the building.

“You could have told me you’d invited them.” You spoke softly so you weren’t overheard.

“Would you have come if I had?”

“Probably not.”

“That’s why. Now, I need to call Julie, make sure she’s on her way.” Letting go of your arm, Flynn pulled her cell out of her bag and held it up to her ear.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Luke appeared next to you. Flynn had been right he did smell good.

“Yeah, I’m good. I was looking forward to a long bath, but Flynn likes to get her own way.”

“I noticed.” Luke laughed as the girl in question linked arms with Reggie and Alex behind them. “She’s a force of nature, huh?”

“She’s something alright, I’ll decide later once I’ve had a few drinks.” He laughed again.

They arrived at their favorite bar where Julie was waiting outside for them.

“Y/N, you look amazing.” She soke as she hugged you.

“Thanks, I’ve been ‘Flynned’”

Flynn rolled her eyes as she made introductions as they entered the bar. Instantly, the smell of beer and floor polish assaulted your nose and you felt yourself relax. This bar had been like the fourth friend to you, Julie, and Flynn while you’d all been at college.

“Shots?” Flynn asked, making her way to the bar while the rest of you found a booth big enough for all of you.

“Shots, and lots of them.” You called out as you slid in, Luke following you, his firm thigh pressing against yours, heat flooding through you.

:: ::

A few hours later, you’re nicely buzzed from the alcohol and when the music starts, you drag Julie and Flynn out of the booth and onto the small dance floor in the corner of the bar.

For most of the night, the seven of you have been chatting about nothing in particular, and you couldn’t help but be hyper aware of how close Luke was sitting next to you and how much attention he paid you as you spoke.

“Girl, you and Luke. That’s some chemistry going on.” Julie spoke loudly over the music. Automatically, you look over at the booth where you see Luke watching you while his friends are talking amongst themselves. It isn’t unpleasant being watched by a guy that good looking.

“Right? I saw it earlier and had to sort out this little excursion.” You glared at Flynn playfully as the three of you moved to the music surrounding you.

“Oh, Nick’s here.” Julie ran off the dance floor and leaped into her boyfriend’s arms, peppering him with drunken kisses. You and Flynn grin at one another at the display. Usually, Julie was more subdued, but tequila had a habit of helping her lose her inhibitions.

“Ten bucks that they leave within five minutes.” You say to Flynn who laughs and gives you a high five. True to form, less than four minutes later, Julie waves her goodbyes and leaves hand in hand with Nick. Flynn hands you the money which you tuck into your pocket.

“I need the bathroom. I’ll be back.” Flynn slides away, leaving you to dance alone. It doesn’t bother you feel the beat of the music throughout your entire body.

Looking back over at the booth, you see Luke is sitting alone, still watching you. You can’t help but smile at him as the song changes from something upbeat to soft and slow. People begin to leave the area around you and you look around for Flynn, unable to see her.

“She bailed.” Luke spoke directly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. It makes you shiver, and the feeling isn’t exactly unpleasant.

“Of course she did.” You groan, thankful for the bet you won which should just about cover an uber home.

“I guess I should do the same, then.” You can’t help but look up into Luke’s eyes, still swaying to the music – or is that due to the tequila?

“Before you go, can I have this dance?” he asks. Nodding, you step into his arms, noticing how firm and warm they are wrapped around your waist. Your own arms snake around his neck and the two of you move to the sounds of Ed Sheeran singing about his Perfect girlfriend.

“I never expected you to dance like this.” You say to Luke, not quite sure where it comes from.

“It’s easy with the right partner.” He smiles down at you, making your heart feel as if it’s about to short circuit. He really does have a pretty smile.

“Smooth talker.” Is all you can think of in response as you both continue to sway. As the song comes to an end, you reluctantly pull yourself out of Luke’s arms. “I guess I should call an uber.” You murmur, not moving off the dancefloor, enjoying the feel of Luke’s bright eyes on you.

“Sure.” He doesn’t move either. “Wait, how far do you live? Maybe we can share one?”

“Four blocks.” You shrug.

“How about we walk? Why pay for an uber for a ten to twenty minute walk?” He wasn’t wrong, but you rarely walked the streets alone after a night of drinking.

It’s cool, but not cold when you both step outside, the doorman giving you the thumbs up, making you roll your eyes.

“You don’t have to do this.” You tell Luke.

“Y/N, I want to.” He holds out his hand for you to take hold of. You oblige, a jolt of electricity running up your arm. “Which way?”

You start walking in the direction of the apartment you share with Flynn, Luke falling into step next to you, still holding your hand. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and you keep your gaze in front of you. The feel of Luke’s hand clutching yours is sending your body into overdrive and your brain doesn’t quite now how to process it.

Sooner than you’d like, you stop outside your building.

“This is me.” You can hear the disappointment in your own voice and see a flash of something on Luke’s face.

“Well, I guess I should say goodnight then.” He says, his voice soft, almost a whisper.

“Maybe you should.” Neither of you have released the other’s hand. You simply stand on the sidewalk, looking at one another.

Your brain is screaming at you that you don’t know this guy, that you only just met him, but your heart is telling you to do something to stop him walking away. It’s been a while since you’ve had this kind of connection with someone and it’s been even longer since you brought a guy back to the apartment,

The pink tip of Luke’s tongue pokes out and runs around his plump lips, attracting your attention. His deep chuckle makes you aware he knows you’re thinking about more than saying goodbye. Without a word, he bends his head and places a gentle kiss against your lips.

Before it started, it was over, and he pulled away. Using the hand not holding yours, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his cell.

“Can I get your number?”

You enter your number into his phone before he places another soft kiss on your lips, lets go of your hand, and begins to walk back in the direction you came from.

“Hey, Luke?” you call out, trying not to worry about the morning. He turns to face you, a question in his eyes. “Want to come up… for coffee?”