#in my dream world 1D will pop out

[fallingsunflower]

Clowning 1: we get Niall on FT (he’s promoting that album after all). Side note did you see when James pulled up Nick Jonas for Haley Lu Richardson? It was super cute

Clowning 2: Harry announces something - movie, album, Laugh on Tour lol

Clowning 3: Dodgeball rd 3 more nut shots for poor Harry

I'm going to go ahead and start a rumor that 1D will be there for either 1) carpool karaoke 2) spill your guts or fill your guts or 3) a random pop out

I KNOW I AM DELUSIONAL BUT IDK THERE'S SOMETHING TICKLING ME THAT SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN

[ckret2]

The second dimension has burned (along with half the neighbors) and now there's a bunch of survivors stranded in Dimension Zero; which means the gods have to talk Bill into letting them leave.

Which should be easy, right? They're a bunch of gods and he's just one puny little mortal. Look how small he is.

Puny little mortal. 👍

Here have a fic.

This is part 6 of an ???8-ish??? part plot about the Axolotl meeting this friendly harmless innocent little triangle in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre and then getting repeatedly slapped in the face with all the atrocities Bill's committed. If you want to read and/or look at the pretty art on the other parts, here's one, two, three, four, and five.

####

It hadn't taken long for VENDOR to make preparations to receive another ten million-odd sentient refugees; but then, the Axolotl supposed it wouldn't, considering that THEY could pop out a planet capable of supporting quadrillions at the snap of a finger. (Somebody else's finger, presumably, since vending machines didn't have any.) The most time-consuming part had been determining which gods would be responsible for the refugee shapes currently stranded in Dimension Zero once they were rescued—for speaking for them, for finding out what they ate and supplying it, for finding new suitable 2D and 1D homes for them in dimensions with compatible laws of physics and chemistry. The Axolotl doubted the shapes themselves had been consulted on who they'd like to speak for them.

And then, THEY'd approached the unstable border barely holding the miasmic rubble of half a dozen burned universes inside Dimension Zero, and said, "I hope you're ready to come out of there."

And just like that, the barely visible, twinkling yellow light in the center of the dimension appeared at its border, as if he'd always been there.

Behind the triangle, deep in their "dream realm," the shapes that the triangle had kidnapped/rescued from the cosmic flames, living and dying and undying and unliving, were still trapped in their eternal dance party. How many of them were paying attention to the proceedings through their forced dance? Did any of them understand the negotiations the triangle was making on their behalf? 

The Axolotl was sure their "Magister Mentium" wouldn't allow anyone but himself to speak for the shapes, but VENDOR could find that out the hard way. The Axolotl didn't see any benefit to trying to warn THEM first.

And as expected, the triangle retorted—just as haughtily as VENDOR—"I'm ready to talk. Are you?" The triangle was swirling a drink in a red disposable cup as though he were aerating a fine wine, looking for all the world like he'd been waiting there for hours and VENDOR was the one late to an important meeting.

VENDOR grumbled something that the Axolotl didn't catch besides the word "attitude," and then said, with a diplomatic air that just edged into patronizing, "Well, as long as we're making progress. Come here, let's get started."

"Hmm... nah," the triangle said. "Howsabout you come over here."

VENDOR stared, THEIR camera whirring as its focus narrowed in on the triangle.  "Excuse me? You expect me to get closer to that thing?" (The Axolotl assumed THEY meant the entirety of Dimension Zero.) "Absolutely not. You're already right on the border; just go through it."

The triangle was, indeed, right on the surface of Dimension Zero, like a fleck of glitter stuck on a bubble. He swung back and forth along the dimension's cellophane skin a few times, as though weighing up the thought of peeling himself off of it; and then shrugged, lounged back against the barrier, and sipped his drink. "Naaah, don't feel like it. You come to me! Get cozy! It'll be intimate!" The triangle purred unseductively, "C'mere, big boy, lemme whisper in your... whaddaya got, microphones? An intercom? What are you, some kind of office building?"

"Of all the—! I'm a vending machine!"

"Wooow, really? You're yanking my chain!" He drew a ghostly blue chain out from the esophagus under his eye like a clown pulling a trail of handkerchiefs out of his sleeve.

"It says 'Vendor' on my face!"

"Really? I figured 'Vendor' was the name of the company renting you!"

VENDOR gasped. "You think a god can be rented—?!"

While THEY tried to find adequate words to express THEIR outrage, the triangle's chain disappeared and he squinted at the silver continent-sized logo listing VENDOR's name. "I don't know how you expect anyone to read that anyway; it's all one color," he said. "Well, they make 'em large where you're from! But okay, vending machine, get over here and lemme whisper in your coin slot."

"No!"

"Hey, big as you are, narrow as I am, I bet I could slide right in without even touching the sides!"

VENDOR shuddered hard enough to set off earthquakes on several of THEIR planets. "Is this how you speak to all your gods, mortal?" The two cops at THEIR back bristled menacingly—the crablike cop with two mushrooms for eyes clacking his claws, and the cop made of two interlocked flaming wheels spinning faster and burning higher. 

"Whoa, since when are you one of 'my' gods!" Smugly, the triangle said, "I thought I heard I'm in Lady Morgenstern's district."

Before they could come to blows without ever starting the discussion, the Axolotl called over to VENDOR, "He can't come closer. He's the only one able to keep his dimension from collapsing back into a singularity on the refugees—he has to stay in there in case emergency maintenance is needed."

"Ugh," VENDOR said. "Nevermind, stay where you are then."

With a singsong lilt to his voice, the triangle said, "If you insii-iist!" He settled back against his bubble and took a long, slow sip from his drink.

The Axolotl hated to admit it, but in spite of it all—the horror, the massacres, the cult recruitment, the dancing corpse puppets—he was starting to really like that triangle.

Along with VENDOR and THEIR unofficial police escorts—both of whom seemed content to do nothing but lurk behind THEM and look imposing—several of the gods involved with helping the refugees had assembled to observe the negotiation with the triangle. The storm cloud currently in charge of the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force's operations—who had less to do now that most of the cosmic fires were under control—was drizzling over several other apoc agents, and the tornado in which it carried its personal effects twisted back and forth in a figure 8 beneath the cloud, as though it were pacing in place. At some point, the barricade keeping the reporters from getting too close to the scene had been breached, and now dozens of them—messenger gods, gods of wisdom, gods of truth, twin-headed deities of secrets and revelations—circled the scene with enormous eyes and sharp ears and pens and recorders and cameras.

Until it burned down, the Axolotl had always called Dimension 2 Delta a "wall," because that was always how he was oriented to it during his daily commute—flying home with the dimension to his side—and the now-bloated Dimension Zero where the wall used to be was oriented the same way; but up and down and left and right were arbitrary directions in space when you could just rotate and change them. VENDOR and THEIR accompanying gods had reoriented themselves in relation to Dimension Zero so that it was like a floor rather than a wall—so that they were looking down on the triangle, and forcing him to look up at them.

Even the Axolotl had unconsciously reoriented himself so that he matched the other gods. He couldn't pretend he had any business in this discussion as anything but an uninvited witness; he'd been flying in nervous circles around the group, only just barely within the perimeter established by the reporters, gazing down into Dimension Zero as he did. Even though the triangle was staring straight at VENDOR, his slitted eye felt like one of those trick paintings that gave off the impression that, no matter where the Axolotl was, it was looking directly at him.

He ended up circling near the Time Giant, who was also avoiding the conversation as she worked on her official report on what she'd found in Dimension Zero. As he passed, she absentmindedly patted his head between his frills. Her glove was coated in grease, heavy metals shavings, and stardust.

The triangle said, "So pitch me your big evacuation plan."

"You don't need to worry about the details; it's our responsibility to handle the situation, not a mortal's."

"Humor me," the triangle commanded.

VENDOR valiantly bit back the urge to say something else snide. "Fine. It's a simple process, at least for you. First: you'll all be temporarily relocated to a safe world, where you'll be taken care of. Somewhere... suited to your species's anatomy, as best as we can manage on such short notice." As THEY spoke, THEY began idly flipping through THEIR worlds, juggling them between THEIR coils, apparently mentally measuring up the triangle before THEM against THEIR available selection. The Axolotl had seen THEM do that earlier. A nervous habit, he supposed. The god from the urban planning committee deciding where a few more residents could be moved.

A few of the partiers far below the triangle had apparently noticed the conversation, and had broken off from the party to fly a little closer to the barrier, eavesdropping on the discussion. There was a quiet flurry of excitement at the suggestion they might be getting a planet. (They had so little in there, didn't they?)

"Second: we clean out the rubble that fell beneath the multiverse and ensure everything is stabilized again. Third: we set off Big Bangs to put up new 1D pillars and 2D walls where the old ones used to be, and repair all the standing walls and pillars that were damaged in the fires. We'll likely recycle much of the rubble into the new dimensions. There, that's nice, isn't it? Your new dimension could be made out of what's left of your old one." THEY talked like an adult who didn't like kids trying to persuade a child that this new toy was just as good as one that had been accidentally thrown away.

As VENDOR spoke, the triangle slid off his tall black hat and held it in his hands, looking down at it. No, the Axolotl realized, not at it—into it. He was looking at his speck. The little pearl that contained the scant remains of his universe.

"Fourth: all the refugees are returned to their native dimensions or their replacements."

The grip on the brim of his hat tightened. The triangle looked up sharply.

A few of the shapes who'd broken off from the dance party to eavesdrop looked dubious of this news—the Axolotl noted the line that the triangle had been dancing with earlier among them—but the vast majority looked ecstatic. One of them—a nearly square blue rhombus—rushed back to spread the news to the rest of the party.

But he stopped without reaching them when the triangle demanded, "You think you're going to split us up?"

"Of course! You can't possibly be placed together long term—you're all from so many different dimensions that your molecules probably don't even operate on the same laws of physics." VENDOR pointedly added, "Besides, I know some gods are very eager to have their people returned to them." The Vitruvian Mandala must have talked to THEM about how the triangle got his new followers. (How many of the listening shapes were eager to return to their gods?)

The triangle stared at VENDOR, eye wide and expression unreadable; but for a split second, an inferno of absolute fury raged behind that blank white sclera. "What about me, genius? You don't have a god to foist me off on."

"No, I suppose not," VENDOR sighed. "Naturally, as the last surviving soul from your dimension, you'll be afforded a few more special protections than the others." (The triangle didn't protest the accusation that he was the last.) "Eventually, you'll have the option to move into an afterlife in whatever replaces Dimension 2 Delta, but until then, you'll have to be housed elsewhere, just like the other refugees. Did you have diplomatic relations with any of the neighboring dimensions?"

He said tersely, "No."

(Then that settled the question for good, the Axolotl thought: none of the other shapes came from his home dimension; and he really hadn't known the shapes he'd kidnapped from other universes and called "his" people.)

"Of course not. That will complicate finding another dimension to move you to, but I'm sure he'll help you with that part."

VENDOR tilted in the Axolotl's general direction. Terrific, THEY'd progressed from accusing him of being a stranger's lawyer to volunteering his services.

"Of course, you should expect to be judged and sentenced by the standards of whatever afterlife you join—"

The Axolotl cut in loudly, "I think he'd rather remain a wandering ghost." It was clear the triangle still saw himself as alive. (Maybe, to his species's culture, he was still alive. If the Axolotl had learned anything during his service as a psychopomp, it was that death was as much cultural as it was physical. Most species saw a soul shedding its body as the end, but others saw it the same way as a butterfly shedding a cocoon.)

VENDOR shuddered in distaste. "I can't believe this district still hasn't outlawed letting unruly expired mortals meander around."

Of course THEY were anti-wandering ghosts. The Axolotl didn't know what else he expected. He made a mental note to throw a campaign donation at Municipalitron before the next election. "Yes, it is still legal, and technically isn't illegal on a district-wide level anywhere in the multiverse—wandering ghost legislation is decided at the dimensional level—"

"You can explain his options after he's come out here into civilized space," VENDOR said sourly. "The bottom line is, everyone gets sent home. And that's the plan! All right?" THEY glowered down at the triangle.

With a flick of his wrist, the triangle's hat poofed out of his hand and reappeared above his top angle. "If you want my opinion—"

"There is nothing I have ever wanted less."

"—you're wasting a lot of time creating a worse solution to a problem you invented! Splitting us up, gentrifying our dream realm, forcing us back under gods and locking us up in afterlives? Yikes! We're not refugees, we're liberated—for the first time in our lives! We don't need to be 'sent home'! We're already living in our home!" The triangle put unnecessary emphasis on the word living.

The excitement slowly drained from the eyes of the listening shapes. They looked so tired. How many were already dead? How many wanted to rest in an afterlife?

The triangle said, "Look, I can save you a lot of time on red tape and bureaucracy." He gestured back into Dimension Zero. "Just give us an empty spot outside reality's butthole, we'll pack up our dream realm and fly it there ourselves, and then everything's hunky-dory!"

"Pack your— Fly it—?!" VENDOR scoffed in disbelief. "You must be mad. It would most certainly not be 'hunky-dory'! Your little organic mortal mind can't even grasp how much more difficult, dangerous, and inefficient it would be to relocate and rebuild this wreck instead of simply recycling what's left of it and setting off a new Big Bang. Is it even possible?" THEY'd directed this last question to the Time Giant.

"Hm?" It took her a moment to drag herself from her paperwork and process the question. "Hell, I hope not. It's the worst idea I've ever heard."

"See? I don't even know which district's jurisdiction such a ridiculous project would fall under!"

"So what's the problem?" the triangle asked. "It probably won't be yours! You can foist the paperwork off on some other sucker!" (The Axolotl choked back a laugh.)

"It would circle back around to the urban planning committee eventually," VENDOR said wearily. "We simply don't have room for a—" They turned to the Time Giant again. "How big is this dimension, anyway?"

"'Bout twenty percent bigger than D-2Δ was."

"Oh, what a disaster. Two dimensional?"

"Technically, zero, but it behaves like it has five or six."

"Absolutely barbaric." VENDOR rounded on the triangle. "We don't even have zoning for an oversized zero dimensional property shaped like a six dimensional property! Every last Planck length in the multiverse is already in use; this is a planned community— Are you paying attention?! Don't you roll your eye at me!"

He was indeed rolling his eye as he took a long, slow sip from his red plastic cup. He held up a finger to signal VENDOR to wait until he'd finished. This wasn't doing the triangle any favors, but the Axolotl had the sneaking suspicion he'd decided to ignore VENDOR because VENDOR had started to ignore him.

"Of all the—you're the one who wanted to waste my time finding out how your evacuation will work! You could at least listen!"

VENDOR still thought THEY were giving instructions to a mortal who didn't quite yet fully understand that it was his responsibility to simply obey, and the triangle still thought this was a parley between equals in which he had the option to say no. And, the Axolotl realized, they were both wrong.

A single reality could simultaneously operate on so many vastly different scales. The Axolotl could still hear the triangle saying that he felt every dying thing that fell into Dimension Zero; he could still see the triangle's gaze unfocused from pain and the distraction of holding up a dimension on his back. While a minor local elected official was arguing about zoning law, a mortal was suffering a trillion trillion deaths.

And on a smaller scale even than that, a trillion trillion lives were suffering death—once.

The Axolotl wondered—what justice was there in the fact that the most trivial concerns of gods were infinitely vaster than the worst horror a mortal could ever endure?

(But what justice was there in the fact that one mortal could force so many more to endure the horror with him?)

The triangle finished his drink and sighed, "Yeah, yeah, I'm listening." Like a bored child fidgeting in his seat, the triangle peeled off Dimension Zero's skin and swung backward into his dream realm, so that he was dangling over his eternal party with the soles of his feet still stuck to the bubble. "And all I'm getting out of your yammering is that you want to destroy my dimension because you don't want to deal with a little red tape!" (He stared at the eavesdropping shapes. They flinched and retreated to the party.)

"No," VENDOR said venomously, "I'm saying we can't move the rubble pile you're calling a dimension, because it would require knocking down half of existence to restructure it around your whims."

"Great! Which half do you want me to knock down?"

The Axolotl could faintly hear the click of VENDOR's camera shutter closing and reopening in horror.

The storm cloud had been brooding quietly back with the other apoc agents while VENDOR and the triangle attempted to negotiate, but now it let out a thunderous rumble as it swept like a cold front into the discussion. "Out of the question. The whole point of clearing out the rubble is to prevent any more damage to the surrounding dimensions. We're not going with a plan that causes more apocalypses."

"Oh, for— No one's talking to you, Fog Brain!" The triangle tried to wave the cloud off. "Who do you think you are, the Killjoy God of Stopping Apocalypses?"

The cloud's tornado swerved down to hold its Apocalyptic Threat Task Force badge where the triangle could see. "Yeah, actually."

He gave it a dirty look. "Okay, Officer Fun Police. Here's the deal: me, my people, and my miasma in here are a package deal. I'm not going a-ny-where without them, and they're not going anywhere without me. So if you don't want us knocking the stilts out from under your palafito, then you'd better make an offer better than Coin Slot's little refugee plan!"

"Your people? What gives you the right to speak for them!" The storm's tornado jumped in intensity from F0 to F2, and only grew faster the more it spoke. Through its clouds, the eye of the storm glared down at the triangle. "You mean the people I've watched die all day thanks to your attempts to kidnap them from their own dimensions?!"

The triangle glared right back up into the eye without flinching. "Yeah, and my attempts to rescue them from our world would have a lot better success rate if you incompetent losers didn't keep getting in my way!"

In a startling display of unity, the storm cloud and VENDOR both started shouting at the triangle, one after the other: "Rescued?! The ATTF was already rescuing them! We're professionals! You're the one mucking up all our operations—"

"And you're the only reason these mortals need rescuing! You caused this crisis in the first place; you spread all the fires—"

"—and mangled or cremated half the people you're trying to save—!"

"You're forcing millions of people to float aimlessly in an unstable, barren void! Those mortals belong out here, under divine supervision, on a real world!" VENDOR punctuated this with a rev of THEIR motors and THEIR coils half twisting forward, like THEY were tempted to launch THEIR whole stock of worlds at the triangle in anger. "I am a vending machine full of planets. Any one of these would be better than your colorful cesspit! What are you offering?!"

The triangle was glowing red-hot, trembling with rage. "Everything they were ever told they can't have," he said. "Freedom. Immortality. Utopia!" With a noise like a whip crack, the triangle snapped his arm down (up?) to point at his eternal dance party; and suddenly his eternal party was right there, and he was in the middle of it. "This is what I'm offering! Isn't that right, gang?! We're keeping this party going forever!" A loud roar of voices cheered in response. (It was, the Axolotl thought, nowhere near ten million voices. The shapes that had been eavesdropping earlier had blended back into the crowd. The only one the Axolotl could still see was the blue rhombus, glaring resentfully at the triangle.)

With an impressive synthesized approximation of the sound of speaking through gritted teeth, VENDOR said, "Why would you want to squat in the rubble of half a dozen destroyed dimensions when we could recycle it into a new dimension?!"

In truth, the Axolotl was wondering the same thing. He could understand if the triangle were just trying to maintain his independence from an overbearing god—the triangle clearly liked being in charge—but then why not offer the rubble from Dimension 2 Delta in exchange for the right to rule the new dimension that would be made with it? VENDOR would never agree to that deal—not that THEY even had the authority to agree—but that hadn't stopped the triangle from making even less likely demands. Or why not trade the rubble to the gods in exchange for an equivalently-sized stable universe to throw his unending party in? Hell, why not say he'd take a newly-vended planet as long as he could rule it without any unwanted divine intervention? His people didn't want to live like this. Why did he?

With great dignity, the triangle straightened out his hat, casually swirled his drink, and floated up off the surface of the bubble—and the Axolotl realized that the triangle hadn't been standing "upside down." All along, he'd been doing the same thing VENDOR had done to him: repositioning himself so that the surface of the barrier between the zeroth dimension and the third dimension was his floor, so that the gods he spoke to were beneath his very feet.

He didn't answer VENDOR's question. Instead, he asked his own: "Why would I want to be a dead freak in somebody else's universe, when I can be an eternal god in mine?"

So many things—his insistence that he was alive, his contempt for the gods that tried to assert their superiority, his determination to repair his own reality, his absolute control over his people—suddenly made sense.

VENDOR leaned away from the triangle. "You? Think you? Get to be? A god?" THEIR two police escorts, who so far had managed to stay silent, burst out in mocking laughter.

The triangle stared imperiously down upon VENDOR, THEIR hundreds of worlds, and the countless gods watching. "It seems to me like I already am one!"  Arms outstretched, he gestured around himself at Dimension Zero, at his eternal party. A cacophony of every song at once poured out into the higher dimensions and all lights shone on him like a strobing halo. "I created a universe by myself! A dream realm where ideas and reality overlap, where a thought's just as powerful as an act! A dimension of color and life that's free from all laws and restrictions—even gravity! If that's not godly, I don't know what is!"

Honestly, the Axolotl thought it was kind of impressive that the triangle had spun his failure to get the gravity working into a perk.

The crablike cop hooted with laughter and said to his partner, "How stupid does he think we are?"

"You're no creator god," VENDOR said. "Everything you have fell in from Dimension 2 Delta and its neighboring dimensions—we know that much."

The triangle was silent for a long moment; and the Axolotl got the sense, by the look in his eye, that he was choosing his next words very carefully. Like a creator god preparing to speak a reality into existence.

Voice low and hard, he said, "You don't think it got in here all by itself, do you?"

VENDOR gasped sharply. THEY weren't the only one. A crackle of thunder and a low rumble filled the still space—followed by hundreds of tiny, twinkling lights from the outer ring of gods, the flashes of the reporters' cameras. Recording the mortal who claimed he'd killed an entire universe.

The triangle, glaring defiantly down at them all, seemed to glow a little brighter with each flash.

No. Not that curious, cocky, bright-eyed little triangle. The Axolotl couldn't believe he had wanted to destroy his own dimension.

But... he did believe the triangle had done it. On some level, he'd known.

The storm cloud cut in, "Hold on, hold on, hold on." It seemed to be the only one who could find something to say. The Axolotl was sure it had known, too; it had only been waiting for confirmation. Making a valiant effort to rein in its rage, it retrieved its interview and asked, "How did you destroy your dimension?"

The triangle's hands curled into fists, crushing his cup. "I didn't say I destroyed it. I renovated." He said it so haughtily. He said it like he needed to believe it himself. "It was close-minded and claustrophobic! It needed a lotta work! The whole thing ended up being a teardown! A place like that, the only thing you can do is—burn it down and start over."

The Axolotl could hear the triangle's voice catch and fall quieter as he regretted his choice of words before he'd even finished saying them. His heart broke. No. He knew the triangle didn't mean that. He was torturing himself to keep as many of his people alive as possible, he couldn't have meant to destroy all those lives—

The triangle raised his voice again—not quite shouting, but straining to project his words, to ensure everyone, everyone, would hear him. (Over the next trillion years, the Axolotl would come to think of this as the default way he spoke.) "We're building a better world here. One where we're all finally free. Isn't that right?!" His undead, undying revelers cheered and applauded. This speech wasn't for the storm cloud; it was for his followers and the reporters. He was putting on a performance. What a show it must be through the cameras: the lights, the music, the proud glittering shape in the center of it all.

The storm demanded, "How did you do it?"

The triangle hesitated again, searching again for the right words, the right story. His eye darted to the side, toward his listening people. Like a bad radio signal, the dance music was infected by a rising static hiss.

But before he could come up with an answer, VENDOR snarled, "It doesn't matter; that's all we need to know! We don't need to wait for him to enter the third dimension anymore—" THEY turned to the cops, "—arrest him now!"

The triangle flinched. "Wait, what?" He glared accusatorially between the Axolotl and the Time Giant. "You! You set me up!"

"Did not," the Time Giant muttered resentfully. "I gave the ATTF my verbal report. What they do with the report ain't my problem."

The Axolotl didn't even respond to the accusation. Operating on pure reflex, he'd already dove in front of the triangle, gills flared and curled forward, putting himself in between the accused criminal and the gods of punishment.

"You can't be serious!" His gaze darted in disbelief between the gods he'd spoken to the most throughout this whole wretched incident. The Time Giant's jaw was set hard and she kept her face turned from the scene as she continued to work on her official report; the storm's cloud had darkened and its rain fell heavy and cold; and VENDOR—well, VENDOR still looked like a vending machine, but the Axolotl had no doubt THEY were determined to carry this through. "He's a refugee seeking asylum! You should be worried about getting him and his people to safety!"

The Axolotl felt the triangle's eye on him like a laser. "They can't do that." (He had only heard that nervous waver in the triangle's voice once before. Yesterday—before Dimension 2 Delta burned—the very first time the triangle had ever met a higher dimensional being.)

"We can." VENDOR's camera focused on the Axolotl. "Unless you have any legal objections."

He nearly demanded THEY explain what legal grounds THEY possibly had to arrest him—and then realized what an idiot he was for not seeing this coming. He'd been so blinded by the fact that he was sure the triangle hadn't meant it that he hadn't registered what the triangle had done.

The triangle had burned down multiple dimensions by ignorantly messing with the fabric of reality. He'd selectively targeted entire populated worlds—and accident or not, he'd incinerated them. On the immense scale of crimes this triangle was operating on, personally kidnapping millions and slaughtering billions who got caught in the crossfire was the least of his sins. VENDOR didn't want the triangle shuffled into some afterlife to get him out of the way; THEY wanted him damned.

But the gods had divine laws, and how they judged the mortals and sentenced the dead were among the most complex branches. What you could punish the living for, and what you had to wait until their death to punish; whether a ghost could be allowed to wander; where a psychopomp could escort the dead; when and how gods could reincarnate a soul... Rules, rules, rules.

And one rule was that a god couldn't legally arrest a mortal outside their own jurisdiction, under any circumstances, without permission from a god who did have jurisdiction.

Any gods who once held jurisdiction over the souls born in 2Δ were dead. The only gods who could arrest the triangle now were whatever gods had authority over the territory he was in.

No one and nothing had ever had authority over Dimension Zero.

The triangle had stumbled his way into the only pure neutral territory in all of reality. He could not be legally arrested.

That was why VENDOR had been so eager to get the triangle out of Dimension Zero; that was why THEY were so impatient with his protests and questions. This was all just a ploy to lure out the triangle so they could make an arrest that neither the witnessing reporters nor the neighborhood's most stubborn afterlife lawyer could legally challenge.

However... those were the rules for arresting a mortal. Arresting a god was different.

Any gods that operated on a higher than galactic level agreed that nothing mattered more than preventing divine threats to the multiverse, by any means necessary. Whoever could make the arrest should make the arrest, and they'd figure out who was in charge of the troublemaker later. Jurisdiction was irrelevant when it came to stopping a god who committed crimes against reality.

Which was exactly what the little triangle had claimed to be.

"Well?" VENDOR pressed. "Any problems, attorney?"

The triangle had the kind of eye that gave off the impression that he was always looking at you, no matter where you were; but now it felt different. Now, the Axolotl truly felt the triangle was looking directly at him.

It wasn't one of those creepy being-stared-at feelings that made his back prickle and his gills curl. It was more like the sensation he got in court whenever one of his clients was looking to him for support and protection, when the Axolotl was the only thing standing between them and death, damnation, or worse.

The Axolotl wracked his brain for any reason to object to an arrest. He was sure, he was sure, that the triangle didn't want to hurt anyone... but the Axolotl's opinions weren't relevant. The triangle was a self-professed god who had confessed to deliberately destroying his home dimension. He was more than an active threat to existence itself—the fires were still burning.

But... "You'll have to prove he's a god." Which was more difficult than one might think. A legally airtight definition of what was and wasn't a god was notoriously elusive. "If you cross dimensional lines to arrest him and then can't prove he's divine, any decent defense attorney could get the whole case thrown out." Which was maybe a slight exaggeration—any decent prosecutor wouldn't let a mortal who'd destroyed a dimension go unpunished, even if they had to hunt him down with their own scythes and fangs—but the Axolotl didn't see any judges here to call him out.

"Pinky's right," the crablike cop said—and only then did the Axolotl realize he and the flaming wheels hadn't budged an inch at VENDOR's order. "Shoulda waited for him to come out."

VENDOR spluttered indignantly. "But you don't have to prove he's a god to arrest him, do you? Just—just that you had reason to think he's one? Isn't that how it works?"

The crab's mushroom eyestalks and the wheels' hundred eyes exchanged a look. The wheels said flatly, "If we claim we had probable cause to believe the mortal's a god because the mortal himself said so, we'll be laughed out of the courtroom."

"Hey! Are you calling me a liar?!" The triangle flared red hot. Some of his shapes had stopped dancing again to stare at the argument. "I made a dimension! If that's not godly, what is?!" Frustrated, he gestured again at the party behind him and the dream realm beyond. (One of the shapes who'd stopped dancing waved.) "Were you listening to that part of the conversation? Or didja get too many retinas to leave room for a cochlea or two, Eyeballs?! How about you, Pinchers; is that gunk growing out of your shell clogging your ears?"

The rings' flames blazed a bit hotter as he seethed, but the crab's two mushrooms reeled back in offense and he clacked his claws furiously. "Those are my brains, you idiot!"

"No kidding?"

The Axolotl swore he could see the malice in the triangle's eye as he thought of ways to abuse this new information. Before the triangle had a chance, the Axolotl dove in the way of his line of sight to the cop and hissed, "Shh! Whose side are you on?" Handing his future prosecutor ammo was bad enough; he had to insult the cops too?

"I could ask you the same thing! All I hear you doing is telling them a better way to arrest me!"

"You don't want to be charged as a god—!" 

"Maybe I do!" Growing more heated, he shouted, "Nobody could do this by accident! It's impossible! Obviously I meant to do it, how could it have happened if I didn't mean to do it?!"

Oh, the Axolotl thought. Oh. Oh, no. This poor child.

The crab laughed loudly. "This pipsqueak's funny!"

"You're a mere mortal with some magic tricks," the flaming wheels said coldly. "You probably have a superpower or two. That doesn't makes you a god."

The triangle's gaze locked onto the cops like a prison searchlight on two escaping convicts. His eye darted between them, sizing them up like a predator choosing the easier prey; and then focused on the crab. "You want me to prove it?" He shoved his crumpled red cup over to one of his nearby followers. (In his rage, he didn't seem to notice that he'd shoved the cup into his follower, in the middle of his 2D organs.) The triangle pointed at the crab. "Come over here! I'll show you!"

"He thinks we're stupid," the rings said.

The crab jabbed a claw toward Dimension Zero. "If you were a god, I wouldn't have to come over there for you to pull whatever dumb trick you're trying! You'd be omnipotent enough to just do it!"

"If you're so sure I'm lying, you've got nothing to lose! So what are you waiting for?! Sounds to me like you're scared! Afraid a little mortal pipsqueak might hurt you if you step into his domain? You scared of pipsqueaks, Pinchers?"

The crab clacked his claws angrily. The two wheels' fires flared up, their furious eyes as bright as stars, glaring at the triangle with the force of a hundred steel-melting sunbeams. The crab growled, "Of course I'm not scared of a stupid little—"

"Then what're you waiting for, fungus brain?!" The triangle didn't even squint under the burning ring lights. If anything, he seemed to soak up the light, growing brighter by the second. He slung an arm around a nearby trapezoid (who started as the Magister Mentium somehow gripped her through a dimension she couldn't see) and said, "Everyone here knows that you're a big, scared coward who's too afraid to face down one puny little mortal. You big chicken!" He turned to shout to his imprisoned people, "Hey everyone, look at the big chicken who's scared of a mortal! What a loser!" 

"Fine! I'll show you what a god is—" Claws crashing together like thunderclaps, the crab stormed up to the border of Dimension Zero.

The second the crab stuck his face through, the triangle twirled upside down.

The entire dimension turned upside down with him. It ground against the nearest walls as it laboriously rotated; all of reality shuddered.

The shapes trapped inside shrieked.

The crab wobbled back.

His face was upside-down, the stalks of his mushrooms were tied in a bow, his claws were attached backwards, and his shell was unevenly coated in purple glitter glue. "Well," he said woozily, "I think that triangle's a god."

"Now will you arrest him?" VENDOR demanded.

The flaming wheels shook themselves out of their shock. "Fall back, kid," they said sharply. "I'll handle this."

"Sure, sarge." Trying to get his mushrooms untied, the crab cop stumbled sideways back toward Dimension Zero. One of the other cop's wheels hooked around one of his legs and tugged. The crab stumbled sideways the other direction. 

And then the wheels turned their full attention on the triangle. "It's too bad hubris isn't illegal here." The rings grew, and grew, and grew hotter, and hotter; until, at last, they were vast enough that one ring could have held a supermassive black hole in its circumference. "YOU COULD HAVE LEARNED THE EASY WAY WHY IT'S A BAD IDEA."

The wheels whirled like some eldritch cross between saw blades and pulsars as they approached the border of Dimension Zero. Their countless eyes opened and shut in hypnotic patterns, red and blue, red and blue. The reporters' camera flashes petered out; the ones taking notes into recorders fell silent. The power that poured off the whirling flaming wheels, both physical and psychological, was suffocating. Even as ancient and powerful as the Axolotl was, and even though the display wasn't aimed at him, he could feel it like a pressure on his lungs—feel it like swimming through water without oxygen. This was the sort of god that could incinerate a million worlds with one rotation. 

But the triangle only momentarily flinched back at the red and blue flashing; and then the display made the triangle stronger. Soaking in the heat, the light—glowing brighter, hotter, redder, angrier. "You wanna get me?!" 

The empty space around him burst into flames—pale, blue flames, reeking of burning hydrogen. Several of the more lucid nearby dancers shrieked in terror.

The helpless shapes burned up. But the triangle simply burned.

He grew in size, larger than the Axolotl, than VENDOR, than even the flaming wheels—larger than all the assembled gods combined—filled the entire visible cosmos with light. "Then come get me!"

Lightning and his knuckles both cracked menacingly; and the sound echoed across a dozen fracturing realities. Gouts of fire erupted from Dimension Zero, shooting from the second dimensions into the thirds. The gods froze as the fabric of reality vibrated with trillions of trillions of voices screaming in agony as they were incinerated.

The triangle's eye was wider than the twin rings' circumference. Dimension Zero pulled taut around him. Dimension Zero was triangular. And though it hadn't moved, it was clear that the gods were no longer looking down at Dimension Zero; they were staring up into it.

The twirling rings skidded to a stop as they realized that, in all their million-world-incinerating wrath, they were a matchstick next to this volcano. "Whoa—whoa! Stay back—"

"Whatsamatter, handcuffs? Can't handle the HEAT?!" The nauseating, kaleidoscopic miasma behind where the wall used to be lurched toward them. Every god flinched back as the formless color feigned grabbing at them. "Shoulda thought of that before you stepped into my kitchen! I'll boil you alive!" The triangle let out a terrible, hysterical, shrieking laugh that echoed between the stars. 

Columns of roiling colors, like amoeba-like feelers the size of a galaxy, bulged out of Dimension Zero, curled around the edges of the crumbling husks of the neighboring dimensions—2 Gamma, 2 Epsilon, 2 Zeta—and reached out, looking for somewhere else to get purchase. Whatever had filled Dimension Zero appeared to be trying to crawl upside-down out of its prison and into the third dimension. In all his existence, in his worst nightmares, the Axolotl had never seen anything like it before. Oozing reality dripped lava-lamplike from Dimension Zero, lurching closer to the shaking twin-ringed cop, preparing to crush them like two pieces of cereal in a formless palm—

And then existence itself let out a howl of pain.

Everyone froze.

The triangle shrank back to his usual size with the speed of a balloon popping. His wide eye darted around nervously. "What."

The multiverse was still. The triangle shook it off, pushed against the border of Dimension Zero, and tried again to squeeze his dream realm out of the bloated singularity into the multiverse—and reality screamed again, like the sound of solid metal being twisted and ripped in half. Its echoes continued long after the triangle froze again—followed up by an alarming series of creaks and punctuated by a CRACK that made everyone assembled flinch.

The Time Giant swore and muttered, "That sounded like something important."

The triangle jerked back again, and only then seemed to notice that he was still burning. He looked at his hands, coated in pale blue flames.

The Axolotl couldn't see the trapezoid the triangle had had his arm around a moment ago.

The apoc agents were already a flurry of activity. The storm cloud—so terrified that it had started hailing—shakily pulled a walkie-talkie from its tornado and demanded info on the status of the second dimensions, trying to figure out what had cracked and what they could possibly do to mitigate the devastation. Replies tumbled in, overlapping each other, frantically reporting fires in dimensions the Axolotl had never heard of before. He could already see how the line of blue fire on the cosmic horizon had grown so much brighter, stretching out into space. Please, don't let the fires have spread to the third dimensions.

The triangle was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. Trying to sound more confident than he looked, he squeaked, "I think I've made my point! I'll let you losers off with a warning this time!"

The cops had somehow managed to put the entire line of reporters in between them and Dimension Zero. The crab ducked his mushrooms down when the triangle addressed them. The rotating rings shrank a little smaller, but muttered, "Well—we're—we're watching you."

The triangle surveyed the ring's hundred eyes. "Yeah," he drawled, "you look like you're good at that."

Voice shaking, the Time Giant barked at the triangle, "Are you nuts?" She gestured furiously toward the growing line of fire on the horizon; spurts of blue flame were still erupting into the third dimension. "I told you that moving around would damage—!"

"Don't. Don't provoke him," the Axolotl said. "He still has hostages in there."

"Hey!" the triangle shouted, and the Axolotl flinched. The triangle strained against the thin membrane of Dimension Zero to lunge at the Axolotl. "Watch who you're calling hostages! Hey, are any of you hostages?" He whipped around to stare at his people.

None answered. The ones who were lucid and living simply stared in silent terror.

"That's what I thought!" the triangle said. "Now, why aren't you dancing! Is this a party or not!" He whipped around again to face the Axolotl. "If you wanna go too, let's go. Just try to enter my kingdom, see what happens."

"No." The Axolotl could take it. The Axolotl was an axolotl; anything he lost, he could regrow. But the shapes that would be caught in the crossfire couldn't.

"Didn't think so," the triangle snarled. "If you want to kidnap my worshipers, you'll have to come in here and get them." His voice dropped to a deep, booming growl that echoed through the stars. "Because we're staying. Right. Here."

The Axolotl could hear VENDOR's motors whining in stress as THEY tensed up at that ultimatum, but THEY knew better than to argue. The triangle's eye twisted into a satisfied smirk.

The triangle couldn't leave his "dream realm," the Axolotl realized. That was why he threatened to fight anyone who crossed his borders: he couldn't attack them before then. He could crawl out of Dimension Zero, but not without dragging along the entire world he'd built inside of it. No wonder he hadn't even considered VENDOR's plan to move him somewhere else so Dimension 2 Delta's rubble could be recycled. He and his miasma were a package deal.

But—why couldn't he leave his dream realm?

"You know you can't stay in there," the Time Giant said, gently pushing aside the Axolotl when he tried to shush her. "It's too unstable—"

"I'll repair it."

"And I told you the entire multiverse will collapse if you keep making 'repairs'—"

"Your multiverse isn't my problem," the triangle said icily. "I can stabilize my dimension just fine. Maybe you need to get off my hypotenuse and worry about stabilizing your own dimensions." He was speaking past her now, talking instead toward the reporters—talking to the whole multiverse.

"It'll be your problem when the omnipocalypse crunches you, too! What'll you do when all those higher dimensions crash down on yours?!"

The triangle spread his arms and said, simply, "Welcome them to the party."

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 6 of a 7-or-8-or-9 part fic that keeps getting more parts, about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl deal with the fact that the sweet little triangle is, in fact, the bad guy. :,(

It's ALSO chapter 61 Part Six of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: tbh this is probably all of you at this point, but I'm maintaining hope that contextless art of Bill & the Axolotl doing stuff will continue to lure in curious new readers until this arc is done lmfao.

At long last, the characters learn what the audience has known the whole time. This chapter had several big moments, looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!!)

[didhewinkback]

I loved the new blurbs 🥺. Made me think of how did YN react to listening to Harry's albums. Or do they have a special traditions for the first listen to each album since his 1D days? Was she there for the ONOs?

omg hi sweet angel this has been in my inbox for weeks and as an apology i wrote u a novel i wish i was kidding

the first time happened when you were 17, hanging out in his massive flat he shared with Louis, the two of you looking at each other in disbelief every so often because "not even Gemma has her own flat" when he disappeared for a second, coming back with a mischievous glint in his eye, holding something behind his back.

"Wanna do something illegal?" he asked and your brow crinkled in confusion when he revealed the ipod he was holding, your eyes darting from the ipod to the look on his face, his eyebrows wiggling, a mix of nerves and excitement on his face.

"Oh my god," you said, hopping off the couch when realization dawned on you. "Is the single on there?"

"Yeah, 'm definitely not allowed to do this but 've been dying to know what you think so I don't really give a shit," he says, laughing when you squeal. He grabs your wrist and pulls you back to the couch, sitting next to you as he untangles the headphones, handing you an earbud. You find yourself too excited to hear the music to pay much attention to the sparks that zing through you when your hands brush. He takes a deep breath, thumb hovering over the play button, eyes rushing over your face before you just about burst. 

“Oh my god play it -” you say, reaching for the ipod as he giggles, pressing play and you freeze, as the first few notes start to play, gasping when his verse comes in after Liam’s, hands coming up to cover your mouth before he quickly pulls at your wrists.

“No, don’t - want to see your face” he says, and you can’t look right at him, focusing on the music instead of his eyes burning a hole in the side of your head, feeling a blush take over your face but you’re too into the song to care, feeling like you can’t catch your breath. 

It’s good, like one of those pop songs that will never leave your head. It’s bright, it’s fun, and he sounds great on it, they all do. You can’t stop the wide smile growing on your face as you bop along, feeling like you could burst with pride. This isn’t an 80s x factor cover, it’s theirs, it’s his and it’s going to be massive.

The song ends and you look over at him, the tentative look on his face like he doesn’t already know exactly how you feel about it, can’t see it written all over your face.

“You like it?”

“It’s so good. It’s so bloody catchy and you sound amazing.” you say breathlessly and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head a bit as a blush grows on his cheeks. “I think it’s going to be massive.”

“Does it make me a huge dick to say I think so too?”

“Yes” you say without hesitation and he tilts his head back, roaring with laughter and you’re helpless to do anything but join in. 

“Play it again,” you say, once your laughter dies down, the two of you wiping tears from your eyes and he smiles at you, big and radiant and presses play.

That’s your best mate and he’s going to be on the bloody radio, he’s going to be bigger than radio, they’re going to be everywhere, the song too catchy to deny them that level of success, of fame. Everything’s going to change but right now, you can’t bring yourself to think about all the negatives, only how exciting it is to watch the person you love most be on the precipice of having all their dreams come true. 

It becomes a tradition from then on, no matter where the world takes him, he always finds a way to you a few months before the album comes out, the ipod sometimes just sound files on his phone, cheeky smirk on his face as he asks “Wanna do something illegal?”. Sometimes you’re even let into the recording process, though you don’t care to spend too much time with the 30 year olds he writes songs with. He sits quietly while you listen to the full albums then demands you list your favorites, smile breaking through in 2013 when you immediately list “Happily”, smile transforming his face as he, absolutely chuffed, tells you “I wrote that one” to which you immediately punch him, wondering why he didn’t tell you, what he would’ve done if you said you hated it and he just shrugged and said completely deadpan “Would’ve cried.” 

His schedule ramps up in the years that follow, becoming much more draining, the bags under his eyes darker than usual but he still finds time to text you from across the world, “Wanna do something illegal?” and you quickly run into a private study room to answer his facetime as he plays you his favorite tracks, the ones he’s most proud of, his eyes never leaving your face. 

In early 2017, he shows up unannounced on your doorstep, nervously spinning his keys in his hand, adjusting the cap on his head as he asks if you want to go for a long drive. You’re about an hour in, the city far in your rearview,  talking about everything and nothing when he turns the radio down with shaky hands, clearing his throat before he says: 

“Wanna do something illegal?” 

“Are you serious?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, heart thundering in your chest. “The first single or -?”

“The whole thing. Need y’ to be one of the first to hear all of it.” he says, looking the most nervous he ever has during one of these. “It’s - ‘s different than the stuff I made with the boys ‘nd I need -”

“Oh my god, just play it!!!” you say.

He refuses to pull off the winding road, no one around for miles, claiming he’s too nervous to sit there and just stare at your reaction so he presses play, eyes constantly darting over to look at you. 

You’re overwhelmed, emotions swirling through you as his voice comes through the speakers, sounded stronger than ever before, more emotional, more grown up, more everything. You reach out to clutch his bicep when he starts hitting the high notes at the end of sign of the times, neither of you acknowledging the fact that you don’t let go until several songs later, the look on his face as you rave in your debrief making you feel like you’re on fire. 

It’s far different the next time, you’re different, your friendship is different, more distance between you than ever before as you try your best to make yourself forget these feelings you’ve felt for him since you were fifteen because he was engaged now and they would never be reciprocated. Despite your best efforts, you still felt your stomach sink in disappointment when instead of his usual text you get an evite to an album listening party with his family and mates, no longer a tradition the two of you can have solo, not when he’s got a fiance he’s singing about. 

You seriously consider skipping out, knowing it will cause you more pain than anything else but even despite all this distance and weirdness between you, you still show up, not ready to give up on tradition even though this is different than usual years,  opting to hang around his family, making small talk conversation with him when you cross his path, despite his best efforts to engage you in more. At one point, he lets out a deep huff of frustration and grabs you by the elbow, pulling you off to the far corner of the studio. 

“‘M sorry this isn’t - ,” he starts to say before Jeff takes command of the room, inviting everyone to take their seats. You offer him a small smile and take your seat next to Gemma, doing your best to maintain a game face once the album starts to play, trying not to let anyone see how much your heart is breaking, feeling every time his eyes land on your face but not daring to look up, not trusting what you would do if you looked over to see him with an arm around her waist, her hands clasped onto his forearm, massive diamond ring gleaming in the light. 

Once the final song plays you’re out of there, saying quick goodbyes as you head out, not able to stay for a debrief, not willing to talk about those songs, how they’re the best he’s ever done, how it doesn’t matter much that you think that, how they’ll never be about you. Feeling like your pathetic twenty year old self again, barely able to see straight as you beeline for the tube, not stopping for a second, completely missing the way his voice called after you. If he can break tradition, so can you. He’s got a room full of people who love him, he doesn’t need you. 

A year and a half later, you’re woken up with a soft shake and kisses on your cheek. 

“Baby” you hear as you blink yourself away, trying to reorient yourself in the surroundings. “Sorry to wake you, know it’s late -”

“What time is it?” you slur out, still halfway between asleep and awake.

“Half past one,” he says, laughing when you grunt and try to roll over. “I know baby but do y’-”

He takes a deep breath, kissing your cheek as he rubs his arms down your sides, you can feel the mattress sink from where he sits down next to you. 

“Wanna do something illegal?” he asks and your eyes shoot open as he huffs a laugh against your skin. 

“You’re serious?” you ask, “It’s done?” 

He nods, tired eyes gleaming as he stares at you, brushing a knuckle down your cheek. 

“Want y’ to be the first to hear it.” 

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, holding tight murmuring about how proud you are in his ear before you pull away. He kisses you slowly and after some time you make your way down to the studio, settling in on the couch while he sits behind the mixer turning his chair towards you as he presses play, delighting in your every reaction, particularly when you gasp “I said that to you while you were inside me and you put it in a song?!” At some point he comes over, laying your feet on his lap squeezing every so often, eyes never leaving your face. 

“Wrote this one about you years ago,” he murmurs softly, chuckling when you shake your head in disbelief. “You’ve always been on my mind.” 

And this time, when the traditional debrief ends with the two of you wrapped up in each other, the album playing in the background, barely making noise over your gasps, well…some traditions were meant to change. 

--

You were absolutely at the ONOs, typically you’d only attend the London one but he was about to burst out of his skin with anxiety so you made the trip to NYC, surprising him at his flat, the look on his face making you all instantly forget your jetlag as he wrapped his arms around you, mumbling thank yous into your hair. The two of you prided yourselves on your privacy and subtlety, how you’ve learned to move through public spaces together but these shows were a bit of an exception, the way he kept locking eyes with you, singing certain lyrics to you and you alone though the crowd was none the wiser as he turned back to them, relishing in their adoration, the way they knew every word despite the album coming out only hours before. They felt like the tip of the iceberg, the reactions he was getting unlike anything you've ever seen and it felt like you were back in that london flat in 2011 all over again, watching the love of your life on the precipice of having all of his dreams come true. it felt bigger this time, somehow. never imagining just how much his life and, in turn yours, was going to change over the next year, never knowing how big it could truly get. only knowing you were along for the ride, determined to be by his side no matter what.

--

[renrenskyy]

Living 4 the experience

HelloooOOoOO everyone!

I'm Ren and I want to split up everything about my experience on the Faith in the future world tour performed by Louis Tomlinson.

The first thing to mention is the trip because the concert was on the CDMX, my little sis and I went to the bus station at 9 am to arrive at 5-6 to CDMX after that we immediately took an Uber to get in time at the "autódromo hermanos Rodríguez "

We were extremely excited, LT is one of our favorite artist (we both love 1D 💀).

Something else that I want to share is about the unbelievable cost of the things, not the merch I mean the food, I spent $200 pesos in bottles of water and I wasn't like a big bottle was a super tinny insignificant thing, we eat one hot dog and a taco each one and share an Arizona de Sandía but the total of that food was an extra $240 pesos 🥲, and once inside the enclosure I bought 2 ice "lolly pop" and was a total of $80 pesos.

•~THE SHOW~•

Taking out the hit at my financial health, I enjoyed the experience of going at my first LT concert, I met a lot of other LT fans and we exchange friendship bracelets.

Obviously been there was like an extrasensory thing, I was so overwhelmed, I screamed every song, I also cried at "holding on the heartache" and "Chicago", I can not believe that I was there with one of my favorite person in world, I felt like I was dreaming, at the very first moment that I realized the show ends I felt like was a joke, the time slipt trough my hands and was like in an open and close of eyes LT wasn't there signing anymore.

THAT'S IT ;)

[theemporium]

So Perfect by 1D played for me randomly the other day, and I feel like its very Charles coded??

“When I first saw you from across the room, I could tell that you were curious”

So that’s just the two of you meeting in a club, probably in Monaco, and you’re being all flirty bc holy hell this man.

“Girl, I hope you're sure what you're looking for 'Cause I'm not good at making promises”

And then he’s asking if you wanna get out of there, and you don’t know this man, you’re not from this place but SIR YES SIR. So you leave without telling your friends, but you leave a text still, just in case.

“And if you like midnight driving with the windows down, And if you like going places we can't even pronounce”

And he takes you for a drive bc he wants to show off his city, even at night, and its kinda sketchy until he brings you to a spot that’s so beautiful, and its very romantic. And you almost have sex there and then, but you hold on to a little more self control bc you wanna spend the night with this man at least

“But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms”

so you check in to a hotel, and you have the best night of your life and you wake up alone, and you’re disappointed, but there’s a note by your phone with a number so you get to talking, almost everyday, and IDK how but you find out who he is, and you confront him about it, it ends with him inviting you to a grand prix closest to where you’re from but you’re not sure you want the first time you see each other again be when he’s working so you schedule something earlier in the week

“And if you like having secret little rendezvous”

And this keeps happening every few weeks and before you know it, its been months and you’re very much in love with this man but you don’t really know where you stand bc this whole time its mostly been a casual thing between the two of you, even if he’s the one always flying you in (little bit of sugar daddy!charles vibes), and you’re afraid to change anything bc you’ve got a good thing going

And that’s how far I got. 😂 IDK that song just got me in my feels. 😂😂 - 🌸

CHARLES IS THE MOST ONE DIRECTION CODED MAN EVER PLEASE

the angst that reader thinks he only really wants her to fly her out whenever he wants a wee fuck? or some company? or that maybe she isn’t the only girl he’s calling up?

charles worried that this whole world will scare her off? that she won’t wanna be with him because of it? that he’s losing the woman that seems like his dream girl because of it?

and the way the media is trying to find out about his mystery woman? trying to piece together who this random girl is that pops up every few weeks?

THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS

[goodlesson]

peyt’s top 10 albums released in 2022

this list was genuinely SO hard to put together!! i feel like every artist i love dropped new music this year thanks to all the studio time they had during the first couple years of the pandemic. sorry to all the great albums that didn’t make the cut - it’s not you, it’s me. 🫠

these are absolutely NOT in order because that would be an impossible task. and now, without further ado, i’ll put my rambling below:

1. give me the future + dreams of the past by bastille

i’m sure no one is surprised to see this one on my list. if you ARE surprised then idk what to tell you. this album was so surprising and different in the best way, especially after how meh i felt about doom days when it was released. thank you for the futuristic grooves mr. dan bastille!!!

top 3: stay awake?, revolution, hope for the future

2. s.i.d.e.s. by alice merton

alice was hands down the best discovery i made this year (thank you again mr. dan bastille). and just in time for her sophomore album!! it’s hard to pinpoint what really makes this album a standout for me. it honestly has it all: great vocals, honest lyrics, catchy hooks. plus alice is just so humble and so cool. how can you not like her?

top 3: future, mania, same team

3. crash by charli xcx

when crash came out, my friend was insistent i listen to it because it was “the best pop album since future nostalgia.” honestly? she was right. this is easily charli’s magnum opus. it’s so good.

top 3: good ones, constant repeat, yuck

4. 5sos5 by 5 seconds of summer

as soon as they released me myself & i as a single i knew this album was going to be It. truly their best work. one of the best parts of listening to 5sos over the years has been hearing their sound mature and this album feels like the culmination of that maturation.

top 3: me myself & i, bad omens, carousel

5. five seconds flat by lizzy mcalpine

every single song on this record feels like a hammer straight to the chest. lizzy’s lyrics are some of the best stuff i’ve heard in ages. this has to be not just one of the best albums on my list but objectively one of the best albums of the year period.

top 3: erase me, doomsday, all my ghosts

6. conditions of a punk by half•alive

they dropped half of this album back in february as give me your shoulders pt. i and at the time i was fully ready to stick that on my “best of” list - then the rest of the album came out just this month. no one is doing it like half alive. no one. they are so singularly themselves in their sound, their lyrics, and their live performances/visuals. i can’t believe they’re not being hailed as geniuses by music critics everywhere. 

top 3: hot tea, nobody, make of it

7. the loneliest time by carly rae jepsen

queen carly hath returned!! once again she has crafted the perfect pop record. listen - i know i’m aromantic but this woman’s music just makes me want to be in love sooooooo bad.

top 3: beach house, anxious, talking to yourself

8. faith in the future by louis tomlinson

the main takeaway from this album is that louis really was the heart and soul of 1d’s songwriting in the later years. his sound on this record is so reminiscent of midnight memories in the best way. this is what i was hoping his debut would sound like - and while walls didn’t quite make the mark, this record most definitely did.

top 3: holding on to heartache, common people, lucky again

9. apocalypse whenever by bad suns

this record is light and fun and i love it. no thoughts just bops. while i do miss bad suns’ language & perspective era grittiness, i dig their newer sound just as much.

top 3: life was easier when i only cared about me, when the world was mine, peachy

10. cleanse by joywave

a perfect transition from possession at the start of the pandemic to now. i knew this record would be great when they dropped the every window is a mirror EP last year and “after coffee” took over my life. and i was right!!

top 3: after coffee, cyn city 2000, buy american

other solid albums that ~just~ missed out on my list:

girl of my dreams by fletcher

stick season by noah kahan

emails i can’t send by sabrina carpenter

midnights by taylor swift

sonder by dermot kennedy

what a most excellent year for music! thanks, 2022!

[womanexile]

Speaking of celebrity culture & the literary buzz lately on twitter… youtu.be/hnP0DnCfuNU m.youtube.com/watch?v=oQsHyLRBUzo - some of these are TS selections. Hmm, now that I think of it, that literary reaction video made me wonder if the mysterious non fiction memoir rumored on twitter yesterday could be about Marjorie. That’s be cool, especially since that time period has drawn compelling comparisons to today and its ripples effect- 50s,60s,70s- like Elvis & Marilyn biopics. Her grandparents had to leave Cuba during that time. Jack Antonoff is a Kennedy collector - he wore vintage pin at Grammys. Marjorie song mentions of wishing she kept receipts & was left closet of backlogged dreams. She has a lot of resources -people & access- it is like a puzzle or whodunit- Agatha Christie (Angela Landsbury tales as old as time- weird how it is like an homage- she passed away around release). She likes that type of stuff, CSI, L&O:SVU, Criminal minds, Oz, etc- Shondra Rimes has definitely been an influence. Lol, Olivia H show was spotted in NY recently & was at concert last night. For example- the politics & celebrity culture (Kennedy & Cuba crisis in that era made me think of the Windsor royal family). The Crown or even celebrity involvement with the Ukraine/Russia war. Coincidentally TS ex secretly fought in it- news came out around TS latest album. The sections & stories on evermore & folklore reminded me of TS library (books, TV, film & music) tastes. Like the Taylor & Burton equivalevent of cancel culture. She has always been fascinated & influenced by history, visited museums & sites, picked up vintage items & exposed herself to various cultures. Lol, on the other hand- I think HS could do this too- or maybe they do already. It’s a creative way to work, express themselves but maintain privacy. Revealing their sources without exposing their life fully, yet educate others- relatable & applicable life lessons. Exploitation of kids for sport (Hunger games & Squid games)- reality TV, K-pop, Disney & nickelodeon- topics- cancel culture. History repeats in a way- we don’t always learn from the past… ‘ghosts.’ It’s true that internet like social media has spread things faster & influenced decisions that impact society. In their own way celebrities like HS/1D & TS for example, have utilized their influence and popularity to make their mark on today’s culture. Innovators & trendsetters- they tap into the pulse of society’s interests. They have a special gift/knack/skill to utilize today’s tools to draw ideas from past & present to spin/twist with words/puns/idioms that help their projects go viral globally and influence the future. They are as SM posts have revealed- Scrabble players/ game players. Turnabout fairplay. It is something that those before them were unable to take advantage of- and well, why not? Lol.

Sorry for the scramble of random thoughs- my page refreshes & autocorrects, ugh. Lol. Jotting it down before I lose it like other posts.

I think this memoir is mostly gonna be about Taylor but I’m sure she’s gonna talk all about her grandmother. This book is going to be 544 pages long. It’s gonna have a lot in it. I’m really excited for it.

TS & HS are so well read. Harry is such a poet & Taylor such a storyteller. If they ever worked on something together it would have the power to change the world.

[magicalferalism]

sorry but this is my blog so I am going to get it out once and for all because the entire reason I even ever had a tumblr was always first and foremost for One Direction and if any of you followed me here almost a decade ago from my old blog you will know how committed I was to them and to that community like it was 24/7 it was posters all over my room and lyrics written on every available space and god the music which I understand was basic teen pop but at the time it was everything to me from ages 12-16 straight like I can’t express how much it meant…I had a bad home life and I was dorky and nerdy and boys at school did not like me but THEY did THEY thought I was beautiful and even in the dark in the middle of the night when I was scared and angry and sad I had THEM and all the friends I made in the computer because of them…online I was funny and cool and respected and safe because I was on here with girls that were also like me so much so that I met a girl I was friends with for years from halfway around the world all because of 1D tumblr….the day that Zayn left the band I was so upset and betrayed that not only did I get so emotional I had to go home early from school lol but also I hardened myself and walked away and gave up that blog and started a new one…it was just too painful to be there anymore but I always had them in my heart as I got older even if it was only secretly and in my own private way….through the end of high school and well into university even when I was preoccupied with trying to be the most indie alternative basement show college radio /mu/ kind of musicgirl I still listened to them constantly…..if I was homesick or I had a bad day and I needed comfort and familiarity or I was getting ready to go out and needed a pick me up and a hit of silly girlnostalgia….and I always still knew all the words and the melodies and could pick out each one of their individual voices and I still can and do to this day and it made me so happy to think of those times and to think we might get a reunion someday….and now that dream is also totally gone and twisted with the knowledge that the next time they’ll all be publicly together is at a funeral….and if I thought it was painful to listen after Zayn left GOD I had no idea it’s physically impossible to listen now….I know this is cringe or lame or whatever but it is real and it is how I feel and this is my tumblr so I can say whatever I want that I can’t on twitter…which is that so much of my life was so influenced and shaped by the experiences I had and what I was exposed to online because of the kind of teenage girl I was and that girl ate slept breathed One Direction…so much so that I took my first ever elective writing course in high school so I could get better at writing 1D fanfic lmfao which led to my college major and my college writing career and me now all these years later being a published poet….all downstream of how much I loved THEM….its insane to me that the first rabid screed I’ve posted online about One Direction in years and maybe on this blog in general has to be because of this… nothing in my life would’ve been the same without them and I regret how much I tried to downplay that and cut myself off from my love of them just because I didn’t follow their solo careers or I thought it was lame or dorky or whatever…because in my heart I always loved them and I never forgot… Liam Payne I remember when I was at 1D’s very first show in my city I was right up close to the stage and I caught your eye and you did a hand heart on the microphone and I knew it was for me I could just tell it was and I was 13 and so awkward and so alone and so sad but you….you saw me there….it’s not an exaggeration that I dreamed about it for months and months afterward and pictured it in my head whenever I heard your voice on a song and I could see you standing there making that heart and smiling at me and I can picture it now still even how it felt to be there and see you and I just want you to know that I will NEVER forget I just. won’t ever forget

I am admittedly still very sad about Liam Payne

[avatar-anna]

hey anna, i had a rough day & would love if you could give me your best angst to match my mood 🥺 screaming, crying, throwing up, ya know the vibe, something that’ll hurt, ur my fave, thank u in advance

i got u b! hope this does what it needs to 🥰🥰 i suggest listening to some olivia rodrigo for this one

throwin it back to the 1d days for this one, so shout out to all my directioners

Today you were surprising Harry at the studio.

You hadn't been able to see him much because he was hard at work making One Direction's third album. The last two had a lot of success, and Harry had expressed how he and the other boys were feeling the pressure to perform well. You knew he liked his space, so you'd given it to him, but you thought after a whole week of not seeing each other, he could benefit from seeing a friendly face.

Harry had been something of a pleasant surprise. You were a uni student studying in London when you bumped into him at a party that you'd been invited to by some of your more well-connected friends. You talked for hours about music, books, dreams, everything really. When you eventually had to leave, he wouldn't let go until you promised to see him again, and you'd been an item ever since.

Things were good. You saw each other when you could and talked on the phone and video chatted when you couldn't. He made sure he made time in his busy schedule for you, never once missing a virtual or in-person date. He gave you gifts, he listened to you rant about professors and exams and friend problems while you did the same, but mostly he just made you happy. Whenever you saw him, you got this giddy feeling that started at the top of your head and spread all the way down to your toes. The two of you were absolutely smitten, anyone with eyes could see it.

Except Isabella.

Isabella was some heiress turned model or something like that and a friend of Harry's. At the beginning of your relationship, you didn't see anything wrong with their friendship, but a few months in and you started to notice things.

Like how she always seemed to be in town whenever you and Harry went on dates, or how she touched Harry a little too much for your liking, or how she claimed she was just "one of the guys" but only hung out with your boyfriend. She went to multiple concerts around the world because she could, claiming, "Harry's my best friend, why wouldn't I?"

That stung. You wanted to go to all of Harry's shows too, but you couldn't hop on a private jet and fly to wherever he was, and even if you could, you were still in school, you didn't have the time. Harry never faulted you for that, so you didn't understand why Isabella felt the need to throw it in your face that you weren't there for him as much as she was.

But you could've put up with all of that. You could've dealt with Isabella and chalked her behavior up to her snobbish upbringing, yet when you brought your concerns up to Harry, he did the oddest thing. He defended her.

"She's not into me like that, we've just been friends a long time, Y/n."

That stung. Not only did he not see what you saw, but he also just brushed off your concerns as if they didn't exist. But you weren't an idiot. Quite the opposite if your enrollment in your uni's nursing program had anything to say about it. Isabella at the very least had feelings for Harry that extended past friendship.

So you started stepping up your game a little. Nothing major, just making sure you didn't wear your scrubs during video chats and wore the things you knew he liked best on you. You did surprise pop-ins at the studio, bringing baked goods for Harry and the other boys. You couldn't swat away Isabella like a gnat, but you could pretend she wasn't there as much as humanly possible. Your next step if things went on—say, showing up on another one of your dates with Harry and he just let her stay—you would finally confront him about it. But you hoped this would be enough.

You stepped through the fancy glass doors of the recording studio, following the familiar path to what had become One Direction's room for this album. There was a slight skip to your step as you walked the halls lined with famous artists signed to the label. You were having an excellent hair day, you were in your favorite pair of jeans, and you managed to get your winged eyeliner to match.

When you opened the door to the recording room, that good feeling was gone in an instant. She was there, leaning in close to him as they shared a pair of headphones and listened to a song together, most likely one he'd recorded recently. So wrapped up in each other, they didn't even notice you come in until the door swung closed.

"You two look busy. I guess I'll come back later," you said, though how you did it was a mystery. There was a lump the size of a golfball stuck in your throat.

Turning on your heel, you left before either of them could say anything. On your way out, you ran into Zayn and Niall, who had smiled upon seeing you, but their expressions immediately morphed into ones of concern when they saw you wiping tears from your eyes. You tried to step past them, but Zayn caught your elbow.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft and soothing.

"I'm fine," you said, but even you could tell that you didn't sound very convincing. Before you knew it, tears were falling faster than you could wipe them away and you struggled to catch your breath.

"Hey, it's okay," Zayn said, bringing you in for a hug. You let him, relaxing a little as Niall rubbed your arm affectionately.

It was at that moment that Harry and Isabella decided to come out. He looked concerned, but she looked utterly unbothered, even when she saw you crying.

"What's wrong, love?" Harry asked, but when you stepped out of Zayn's arms, you bypassed your boyfriend and rounded on Isabella.

"You need to back off."

"Back off? Back off of what?" she asked, feigning innocence.

You kept your breathing as steady as you could, trying your best to ignore the fact that you probably looked a mess. "Harry is my boyfriend, and I'm uncomfortable with the way you act around him. It's disrespectful."

"Disrespectful? I'm his best friend. If you have a problem with that, that's not my problem, it's yours."

The hallway was dead silent despite there being five people in it. You didn't know what to say, which seemed to satisfy Isabella. In a desperate attempt for backup, you turned to the one person who should've been on your side without any questions asked. "Harry?"

You knew he hated confrontation, but you needed him. You always defended him when the boys teased him a little too much, you were always there for him when he was frustrated with a bad day of writing. You were always on his side, now you needed him on yours.

"I, um," he struggled with finding something to say. You felt Zayn and Niall watching this whole exchange like you were some teen drama, but you tried not to pay attention to them.

"This is ridiculous, Harry. Your girlfriend's jealous and insecure. We shouldn't have to change our friendship for her."

Harry took his time responding again, and each second that passed filled you more and more with dread. Finally, he said, "I—I've told you that nothing's going on with her, Y/n. I need you to trust me."

It would've hurt less if you'd been slapped. If you couldn't make him see it now, you never would. Bracing yourself for something you never thought you had to do, you loosed a breath and looked Isabella in the eye.

"Right. Well, you don't have to worry about stepping on any toes or crossing any lines, not that you ever did. He's all yours. I'm done."

You left without another word, feeling like your heart was trying to make a hasty escape through your throat. As you walked away, you heard Isabella say, "Did you hear the way she talked about him? He's not a piece of meat."

"Oh shut up, Isabella." That was Niall. His comment made a smile flicker on your lips, but it only reminded you of the fact that it was still someone else defending you and not the person it should've been.

Before you made it to the elevators, you heard soft footfalls behind you. Harry was there, lightly gripping your elbow and spinning you around. "Really, that's it? You break up with me just like that?"

"You couldn't even stick up for me in front of her, Harry! If you're not on my side, then what's the point?"

"There are no sides, Y/n! We're just friends! Why don't you believe me when I've already told you countless times?"

"She doesn't want to be just your friend! How many dates has she crashed? How many times have you cancelled or left early because she needed you? She was practically on top of you in the studio just now! I've let it all slide, but I'm not gonna do it anymore, Harry. She may not see it that way, and you might not either, but it is disrespectful. She doesn't respect me, and she certainly doesn't respect our relationship.

"I've kept my mouth shut, I've pretended like what she was doing wasn't driving a wedge between us, but all that did was bring us to this point. There's not a wedge between us, Harry. We'd have to be on the same plane of existence for that."

You hated how much your words seemed to hurt Harry. At least it meant that he really did care for you, but it wasn't enough.

"I don't know what you want me to do," he said quietly.

"Stop hanging out with her, admit that how she acts around you isn't normal 'best friend' behavior. Do anything but just stand there and look at me like I'm crazy."

When he still couldn't at least admit that Isabella was out of line, that was all you needed. Looking back on that moment, you remembered not feeling sad that your relationship had come crashing down in a matter of minutes, you only felt angered by his choice, and maybe a little resigned, like some part of you knew it was coming.

Nodding, you said, "Right. Guess that answers that then. When she finally does make her move, I hope someone is there to say 'I told you so.' Goodbye, Harry."

------------------------------------

Two weeks later and you were still devastated. Everything still felt so fresh, and it took just about everything in you to get up in the morning and go to school.

You hoped that Harry was feeling similar. Part of you thought that he would call or come visit you, but he hadn't and you were starting to lose faith in that particular fantasy.

At the very least, you hoped you inspired a song on One Direction's upcoming album.

Speaking of, as you were getting ready for school one morning, you got a phone call from Zayn.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Hi. How've you been?"

"Alright considering, I suppose. I've just enough strength to get me through classes, but that's about it. Is that pathetic?"

You were partially joking, but mostly not. When Zayn didn't answer right away, though, you began to worry. "Zayn? What is it?"

"I just wanted to give you a heads up. It'll probably be all over the Internet, but I thought you deserved to hear it from a friend."

Your stomach dropped. You knew it was coming, but you wanted to believe that Harry really did love you. "At least he didn't cheat, right?"

"Y/n—"

"It's fine, Zayn, really. I, um, I should be getting to school. I don't want to miss my bus."

You didn't take the bus, and you definitely weren't going to school, but you needed to get off the phone as quickly as possible.

"Do you need anything? The boys and I are all planning to egg his place while he records some solos," he said. An attempt to make you smile. It would've worked if you didn't just lose the ability to feel anything.

"No, I don't need anything, but thank you. For asking and for calling." It was certainly more than Harry did.

"I have to get going, but call any of us if you need anything. You may have broken up with him, but we're still friends, yeah? Don't be a stranger."

You hung up soon after, and then you were left to stew in your misery. Sobs wracked your body as you blindly made your way back to your room. Your heart physically ached, despite having braced yourself for this possibility even before you'd broken up with him

The hardest part was accepting the fact that you and Harry were truly finished because when you were good, you were really good. He loved you, you believed that, but somewhere down the line, he found it in him to like someone else. You could only hope that one day you'd be able to move on, because right now you felt like your apartment was crushing your chest.

"You didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor," you mumbled to yourself as you got into bed. Now that was a song lyric. Shutting your eyes, you hoped that the face you were still in love with despite everything didn't haunt you in your dreams the way he was about to haunt you in real life.

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

Let's be honest, Louis will never be a megastar. Besides voice and talent, beauty is very important.Louis is not a 'cute boy' like Harry or Zayn or Niall. I'm not saying Louis isn't handsome, just that he doesn't fit the "teenage dream" standard. That's why Louis won't cross the world's popularity line.

okaaaay okay okay no no okay let's get into this.

first of all, louis is handsome. it's undeniable, and has been from the start of 1d. those eyes, cheekbones and that jawline speak for themselves. he's also always had amazing hair. probably the best sense of style out of all the boys, before harry grew into his (yeah yeah this is subjective but wow don't come into my inbox defending the others' styles). yes, he's been compared to oblivion to his other gorgeous bandmates, and that's just a shame, but that's honestly slowly disappearing imo as new fans come in. and he also holds up next to his bandmates lmao i think he's insanely good looking AND has the personality to back it up

and then here's my main point: he's completely founding his solo success on his personality and talent, not his looks?? he wants to build his career on what he can achieve as a musician, not as an industry sweetheart or Hot GuyTM. he's starting to fall into the category of liam gallagher, damon albarn, catfish, the snuts, etc: rock 'n' roll sex appeal and genuine talent, mixed into one. and his current fans are more and more people who love him for his music + who he is + how hot he is

if you meant he'll never reach harry's success, yeah okay, that's astronomical and beyond compare to literally most other artists atm. but louis is slowly reaching the position in the music scene that he wants (imo): selling out arena tours and headlining festivals, while also organising his own to support smaller artists. bc he's already big. he'll become someone everyone knows because he's influencing so many areas in the industry. mark my words. that's different than being a cute boy pop star, and a whole lot more appealing imo

then i just want to add that megastar =/= be the teenage dream. being known to the world doesn't necessitate appealing to that demographic. there are older music fans, as in...... older than 16 lmao. paul mccartney, nick cave, elton john, ed sheeran, adele, queen... i mean i could go on forever - all artists who are astronomically famous bc their fanbase grew with them + new fans constantly flocking in. c'mon, anon!! c'mon!

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 8 March ‘21

Louis liked (then unliked once it had been sufficiently noticed) an angry tweet about Football Index, a gambling site that screwed a lot of people out of a lot of money. The account whose tweet it was posted thanking him for drawing attention to them, and offered an explanation of what was going on-- “last tweet for the 1D stans that don't understand what's going on a football betting company that is designed to look like a stock market crashed because of horrendous mismanagement and now people have lost thousands of pounds overnight” (that’s pretty good but the sports tweeter who summed it up as simply “in this scenario FI are Modest Management” really brought it home for the emotional appeal) and then very cleverly sicced the fan mob on the people in charge of the site that screwed everyone over with instructions on how to bother them and proceeded to make a lot of excellent memes about the unmatched firepower louies bring to bear. Smart lads, no one can run a twitter harassment campaign like stans, that’s for damn sure!

Meanwhile Louis was still out there and in the thick of it, liking other tweets about the situation for just long enough to signal his approval and sending DMs to multiple people who were screwed out of their money to check in on them and sympathize (and help out I would bet you), inspiring football fans to post about how lovely he is and that they were checking out the album and loving it, which later turned into loads of football betting twitter just going all in and changing their bios and urls to say ‘louie’ and announcing their new status as Louis stans and hailing him as a hero. Tweets included “One day they’ll make a Netflix movie about how Football Index traders and Louis Tomlinson fans came together to fight the evil corporation and get the amazing album Walls to number #1”, ”kill my mind...raise my body back to life and I don’t know what I’d do without you NOW! almost feels as if this song was written about us and Football Index,” and rewriting 1D lyrics to be about losing their money to FI (“my money’s gone, gone tonight, the bids beneath my bets are open wide…”). Sign the petition to support and they say they’ll get Walls to #1! I believe it; uniting two huge fandoms like this, we could take over everything probably!

Liam, mostly MIA just as he told us he would be (I hope the songwriting and time off are going well!) popped up to write a sweet post for International Women’s Day and for Unicef-- “today and every day let’s celebrate women and girls around the world. Here’s a special thank you to all the women on the frontline during the pandemic, women who have worked tirelessly to ensure vital services for children have continued, and to all the inspirational young women and girls that unicef supports. Thank you for your hard work to keep children happy, healthy, and safe.”

And there’s been a lot of speculation about what TPWK choreographer Paul Roberts was up to filming recently in London and whether it was for the Grammys but it looks like it was something else-- a dance challenge for Comic Relief! There’s a video out today teaching Harry’s dance part for the opening sequence (“now-- big Harry Styles cheesy grin!”) and inviting people to post their version. Lizzo said she was excited to hear Harry perform at the Grammys and that she talked to him today (living the dream!) The tabloids confidently announced that Harry’s was one of the prerecorded performances, whether or not the TPWK choreography was involved, but they also said a lot of stuff about where he’s been when that seems wildly speculative (and that he’s dating Olivia lol) so why should I believe them? Still, sure why not-- many of them are, Harry’s might be one such.

[hldailyupdate]

Louis Tomlinson Announces He’s Working On New Documentary — Everything You Need To Know Get ready, Louis Tomlinson fans, because the singer just announced that he’s working on a brand new documentary about his life, and we have all the exciting details for you! While replying to some fan questions on Twitter, the One Direction member shared the exciting news.“ Have you already thought about making a documentary?” one fan asked him. He replied, “Already on it love.” But wait, when will the documentary come out, you ask? What exactly will it be about and what can we expect it to show? Not to worry, you guys, because we broke it all down for you. Here’s everything you need to know about Tomlinson’s upcoming documentary. What Do We Know So Far About Louis Tomlinson’s Documentary? So unfortunately, the “Walls” crooner hasn’t shared any other details about it, but some fans are convinced that they’ve uncovered the name of the upcoming doc! Get this — just a few days before he made the announcement, Tomlinson celebrated the 11-year anniversary since he first auditioned for The X Factor. As fans know, after he tried out for the singing competition show, he was put into the band by Simon Cowell (alongside Harry Styles, Liam Payne, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik).

“11 years since my first audition! I had no idea on that day just how much would have changed between then and now. Thank you to everyone who’s been there for me along the way! We’re only just getting started!” he wrote on Twitter in honor of the big day. But it was his next message that caught everyone’s attention.“ Faith in the future,” Tomlinson added. And many people think that may be the name of the documentary!

What Else Has Louis Tomlinson Been Up To Lately?

This isn’t the only thing that the musician has up his sleeves! Yep, earlier this month, he revealed that he was starting his own management company, and everyone was pretty excited about it. For those who don’t know, he previously attempted to launch his own record label, but that didn’t work out.“

I always dreamed of having my own label, having an imprint never really worked for me because I still had to have someone else’s blessing to sign people. People I believed in massively but unfortunately didn’t fit the traditional pop role hence never doing the deals,” he explained via Twitter. “So I’ve decided to put it out there in the world today. I’m going to start my own music management company to help develop new artists. Watch this space.” He later verified, “I just wanted to take the first step of actualizing the idea but at this stage that’s all this is. An idea! Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief.” And when someone asked if this would effect his upcoming music, he replied, “No.”

And that’s not all! Tomlinson also told fans that he’s considering making a visual album!

“Seen a few that a really like. Potentially,” he replied when a fan asked if he was open to making one. So exciting! But despite having “lots of stuff” in the works at the moment, Tomlinson promised that music is still the most important thing to him.

“Lots of stuff in early stages. Music obviously remains my number one priority,” he tweeted. He also tweeted that he has new merch coming soon, so keep your eyes peeled for that. Plus, the 29-year-old is gearing up to go on tour — as soon as it’s safe, of course. He was supposed to head out on his debut solo tour last year, but when the pandemic hit he was unfortunately forced to postpone it. His European leg is now set to kick off on June 6, 2021, but it’s unclear whether or not those shows will go on as planned or get postponed again. As for the American leg, the new dates for those concerts have not been announced just yet. But Tomlinson is very excited to hit the stage again.

“Every day is a day closer to the first show back!” he tweeted recently. And when someone asked him what he was most excited about, he responded, “The next time I play a live show. Going to be an incredible atmosphere.” What Do We Know About His Upcoming Second Album? Back in May 2020, Tomlinson first announced that he was working on his second studio album.

“I’m doing good. Tried to be more creative these last few weeks,” he wrote to a fan at the time. The singer added that he had “lots of ideas” but that he didn’t expect to be “writing so soon” after his first album dropped. As fans know, his debut LP — Walls — came out in January 2020, and it was full of bops. Then, in October 2020, he gave us a much-needed update!

“Wrote four songs in  four days. It’s cooking,” Tomlinson shared. And when a fan asked what exactly was “cooking,” he explained, “Banger after banger.” And just this week, he revealed that he was working on another new song!

“Got a decent chorus idea down,” he said, when asked what he was up to. This is seriously so exciting! But when will his new tunes come out? Well, when a fan asked the star when we could expect the music to drop, he said it will probably come out sometime this year.

“Assuming ’21 [but] who knows,” he said.

What Will His New Album Sound Like? While chatting with Telegraph in a recent interview, the 1D heartthrob explained that the pandemic has given him time to “really get into what I want to say” on his new album.

“I’m very, very excited. I had basically penciled down a plan before corona took over our lives,” he explained. “And now it’s kind of given me a little bit of time to really get into what I want to say and what I want things to sound like.

”When asked about the sound, Tomlinson said that fans can expect it to be a lot like his hit song “Kill My Mind.”

“There’s a certain energy in that song, in its delivery, in its attitude, that I want to recreate,” he continued. “People are struggling at the moment, so I want to create a raucous, exciting atmosphere in my live show, not a somber, thoughtful one.

”According to the pop star, he’s been listening to the Red Hot Chilli Peppers a lot over the last few months, and they will have a big influence on LT2.

“I grew up on their album ‘By the Way’. And during lockdown I’ve been knee deep in their stuff,” he explained to Telegraph. “I’ve watched every documentary, every video. And I find their lead guitarist John Frusciante just fascinating.”

But don’t expect him to play any new instruments on the upcoming LP. He tweeted that “guitar was enough” for him when a fan asked if he learned any new instruments during quarantine. Plus, he also wrote on Twitter that he’s going to talk about more social issues in his lyrics!

[ahundredtimesover]

He’s Leaving (FNTO 2)

They weren’t kidding when they said everything you touch turns into a mess.

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that! JK’s angry in this one 

Warnings: foul language, these characters talk alot bc I talk alot, eventual smut

Word count: ~12,000

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: This takes place 7 months after that night Y/N’s ex shows up! Italicized parts refer to past events. And since I’d mentioned this was initially for Harry, I remember now that Home by 1D was my mood for this, so listen to it as soundtrack (getting emotional while listening to it & thinking about how this ends)!   

#

He’s leaving. 

You stare blankly at the wall dividing your living room and bedroom and say the words once more, in your head and then out of your mouth.  

He’s leaving. 

You say it over and over again, alternating between question and statement. 

Jungkook’s leaving. 

“Yes, Y/N, that’s what I just said.” Jimin mutters over the phone.

“But why? I mean, since when does he leave ahead of all of you guys?”

“He decided to schedule a meeting with one of the producers he’s working with for his mixtape. It isn’t with your cousin, though, otherwise Jieun would’ve told you,” Jimin responds.

It’s the first week of August and the first show of the next leg of their world tour isn’t until a week from now, but Jungkook’s already headed to L.A. and he didn't even tell you about it. In fact, he hasn't said a word to you in the last five days, which is oddly surprising. 

“He hasn't spoken to you?” Jimin asks, picking up on your thoughts. Perhaps your silence gave away the frustration you were feeling. 

“Nope,” you reply, the sadness in your voice unmistakable. 

“I hope you don't think I’m one of those people who’s gotten so attached to him that being ignored for five days feels like the end of the world… because it really isn’t. I’m just worried and confused,” you continue. 

You aren’t blind. Jungkook’s surrounded by women, some vying for his attention, some wanting it back. They’d act out either way, displeasing him although he’d never say it out loud, but you were pretty sure you weren’t one of them. Right?

“Hey, of course not! As both of your friends, even I’m surprised. You two are like, inseparable, long-distance buddies,” he claims. “But to tell you the truth, I have no idea what’s going on either. Are you sure you didn't fight for real this time?” 

No real fights, you say. Your arguments about who has better smelling detergent or your choice of movie to watch or him stealing your oversized sweatshirts were as far as you two went. You often had serious talks, but when you didn't see eye to eye, you always just agreed to disagree, and then it was back to petty fights and annoying each other like little kids again. 

“I’ve to head out now, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn't help, but I hope you two patch things up! Just call if you need anything,” Jimin says after a few more back and forth of questions and answers about how the past week or so has been, just to pick up on any clues as to why things just suddenly came to a halt. You put your phone away and sit on the couch.

A few months ago, it probably wouldn't have mattered if he didn't text or call for a day or a week. You couldn't even truly come to terms with the fact that you’ve become good friends with Jeon Jungkook, the ‘golden maknae’ and self-proclaimed international playboy of the biggest band in the world who has the unenviable position of being half the female population’s (and a good fraction of the male’s as well) dream everything. 

It amazed you how this oversized-clothes wearing boy with a bunny smile and doe eyes and who liked to talk to insects and impersonate chickens and act out Ironman fight scenes could arouse the sexual musings of individuals of all genders and ages. But then again, he does have that mellifluous voice and has this tendency to hump the air and dance wildly enough to reveal his abs, so you do understand the collective reaction.

For a high profile celebrity like him, it seems natural to be drawn to people from the same industry, for romance purposes or otherwise. Much of it has to do with the fact that they get the lifestyle, as his other band mates have shared, some of whom having dated fellow pop stars and models. But you aren’t from the same circle, or clique, or planet. While you’re your university’s star athlete, volleyball isn’t religion here, so there isn’t any “lifestyle change” of some sort. 

Before Jungkook, your only window to celebrity life was through Jieun, your LA-based music producer of a cousin. Yet, you’ve always been wary of the spotlight, and those who loved it too much, which is why it baffled you for quite a while why you were so fond of Jungkook. He loved the spotlight enough to make his job look so easy, but he felt real  — so real you almost thought he wasn't. 

#

The midway mark of September has rolled in. Once the celebrations of your championship win over the summer were over, it was back to focusing on work and school. You’ve started your probationary period at a research institute, and you’re riding out your fifth year of university after your senior year knee injury left you out of school for a month and out of the graduation rites. This meant a chance to actually win the championship, which you did, and to appease your ever growing interest in gender studies, you decided to take up a minor program too. 

It’s 8 am on a Monday and you’re enjoying your iced americano at Annie’s, your aunt’s café that she lets you run to help sustain your lifestyle. You monitor the daily operations, which means checking up on it everyday, and since class isn’t until nine, you always have your breakfast here. 

Your back is turned to the door and you’re packing up your stuff, laughing at something Woojin, your café manager, is saying. 

You stand up, swing your bag strap to your right shoulder and without paying attention, turn to your left to head out. Except instead of going for the door, you go for a body instead. The next thing you know, you’re massaging the right side of your forehead because holy crap this person has a knife for a chin, or a shoulder, or whichever part of the person’s body hit you. 

“Ow!”

“I. Am. So. Sorry,” the person says. His voice is low and raspy, sleepiness still evident in it, and he says those words as if each is a sentence on its own. “Are you alright?” 

By this time it has registered. You are looking up at the man who made your then-65 year old Grandma shriek. But that was last year and you bet if she were still alive now, she’d do the same, probably even louder. 

You could hear customers enjoying their morning coffee whisper quite loudly “Is that Jeon Jungkook?!” And then it registers again. Yep, it is.

Eyes wide, you tell him that “good thing I don’t have coffee or that pretty white shirt of yours would’ve been messed up.” 

Really, that’s what you say? 

God, you sound so stupid, so you bat your eyelashes and put on a smile, as if that would save you the embarrassment. He grins.

“Yeah, good thing you didn't,” he says, letting out a little laugh.

You smile again, a bit awkwardly though, just to acknowledge his appreciation of you not ruining his Monday morning. As you’re about to step to your left to go for the door this time, he furrows his eyebrows. “You look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?” 

Well, you know where you’ve seen him, but you don't say that. Instead, you mumble “probably in your dreams?” Again, what? 

He laughs again, this time more loudly. You’re amused at the child-like tone of his laugh, a complete contradiction to his toned body and tattooed arm. Your eyes travel up. Right, that was his shoulder you hit, you realize.

This is such a turn-off. Why does he keep laughing at stupid things? 

“That sounded different in my head. It wasn't supposed to be a pick-up line if ever you thought so,” you clarify. 

“No I didn’t, but thanks for confirming,” he says. You notice him smirking.

“Well, that settles it, then. Bye!” You wave, and you go for the door, for real this time. 

It was an interesting way to start the week. You rarely have VIPs entering your café, especially in this quiet part of town, and so it’s quite a surprise to have him check it out. What’s even more surprising is seeing him there again the next day.

Your back isn’t to the door this time, but you’re zoned in on the paper you’re working on, eyes focusing on the laptop screen. It’s only when you momentarily look up and see Woojin preoccupied and seemingly distressed on the phone that you hear someone say, “excuse me” with his inked hand up that you realize your VIP is back. You stand up, approach him, and ask what he wants to order.

Jungkook’s face lights up. “Well, good morning, dream girl,” he greets. You flinch at the thought of what you said the day before implied. 

“Please don’t,” you plead, before exploding into laughter. “Not my best moment, eh?” 

He smiles again, shaking his head as if agreeing to what you just said.

“What do you want to order?” 

“So… Annie?” He diverts.

You aren’t sure if you’re happy that asking for your name means he won’t have to call you dream girl again, or embarrassed because now there would be a name to the face. 

“Annie’s my aunt, but I help run the place. It’s Y/N.”

“And I’m Jungkook,” he says, putting out his hand, as if you don't know who he is, which actually impresses you. You’ve heard of famous people's tendencies to act like everyone knows them, making them forego the courtesy of introducing themselves properly. You shake his hand, a little calloused but soft nonetheless. “This is Sejin. He told me about this place and how good it is,” he continues.

“Which is why you’re here for the second day this week?” you ask, fishing for some feedback on your food. 

“I wanted to get back at the girl who would’ve spilled coffee on my shirt yesterday. Turns out this place has some great food as well,” he says, a smile creeping onto his face. You aren’t quite sure what to make of this. 

You insist on their orders, suggest your bestsellers, and turn it over to the kitchen. As you’re about to head back to your seat, he says, “I remember where I know you from!” You look at him, curious. 

“You’re Jieun’s cousin! She always posts about you,” he excitedly claims. 

You nod. Of course, Jieun. You could’ve figured that out and told him yesterday instead of the dream girl thing. 

“Right. Jieun,” you start. “She sucks up to me like that to convince me to visit her in L.A.,” you explain. You try to keep your voice steady. You don’t want to give the impression that having this conversation with him is already the most interesting part of your week, even if it is. Who gets to say that Jeon Jungkook recognizes their face anyway?

“You don’t like L.A.?” He asks curiously.

“It’s just not my cup of tea,” you respond, angling your body to move towards your table, but facing him still. You’re glad that the morning rush has ended and there aren’t many people in the cafe who minds enough that you’re talking to Jeon Jungkook. 

“Then what is?” he asks, arms crossed against his chest, looking genuinely curious. 

You let out a laugh. “Jasmine, chamomile. Lemongrass on some days,” you say. “We’ve got good ones you should try,” you tease. 

You aren’t the type to spill things about you that easily, and he picks this one up. He nods and smiles. The only other thing he says to you before you leave is that the food is good, and that he’d “see you around.” 

Of course he would, because for the rest of the week, he kept going back, right around the same time as you’re there. This isn't new, of course. You have so many customers who come everyday at a particular time — right before school or work or just part of their daily routine. But he didn't fit the profile of a regular customer, but you also could admit it was nice to see a fresh face around. 

It’s Thursday of that week when he tells you “I have meetings and stuff in this area and your food’s really good,” after you give him a questioning look as to why he’s here again. And it’s the next day when he comes alone, orders jasmine tea for himself and for you, and asks for your number after you talk about Disney movies and the damsel in distress trope. And cats, and how much you hate them. 

~

You have your back lying on the couch for 10 minutes, debating on whether you should drive to his place and ask what’s going on, or stay home and settle on phone calls for the next 2 months that he’ll be gone for the tour, if he’ll even pick them up. Because you’ve tried—you’ve called and left messages, not to ask why he hasn't been texting or if anything’s wrong, but just to crack up jokes that are way funnier than his, or to talk about food. You know, normal things. 

You like how your texts never start with “good morning” and “what are you doing?” They’re usually along the lines of “some cat left a paw mark on my car, my day is ruined” or “I tripped in front of an old lady and she almost died laughing” or “what movie should I watch if I want to forget I have a shit load of work to do” or a picture of whatever food you ate that day. 

Things are never formal with you two. It’s always very casual that sometimes you forget that his “show’s about to go on, I’ll talk to you later” text means he’s just about to perform in a sold-out stadium in front of thousands of people in Japan or something — like it was no big deal. Or that his “hang on, someone will just talk to me” is really code for “I’ve got an interview,” which you know will be newsflash and then posted all over social media immediately after. You enjoy this bit because it feels so natural, neither of you feel like you have to impress the other. 

“Will you stop air fucking and pole dancing on the mic stand,” you’d say. 

“Stop talking to me and do your report already,” he’d say. 

“Seriously, why are your clothes 3 sizes bigger? How much food are you hiding in there?” You’d laugh over the phone. 

“Your sweatshirt looks like shit, can I have it?” he’d annoy you, and then proceed to take it home. 

You like making fun of each other as much as you like talking to each other. He’s easy to get along with and not pretentious; you’re comfortable to be around and not judgemental. He doesn’t have a problem telling you if you’re being too whiny; you don't mind calling him out for being too much of a perfectionist that he’s actually not being productive anymore. 

Jimin was right when he described you two as inseparable, long-distance buddies — whether it was a night out with friends or a night in doing papers, if it didn’t clash with his schedule, you were together. Even if it was a quick take out dinner at 11PM  after a long day of practicing, he’d be at your place.

Whenever he’s away on tour, he’d be constantly updating you about fan signs and the food and the weather; similarly, you’d update him on the café’s customer of the day or this new e-book you’d discovered or the weird dream you just had. You never feel any sort of pressure or expectation; neither of you feel too attached, despite the amount of time you spend together. 

Regardless of how your constant texting or hanging out when he was back in Seoul seems like to others, neither of you ever felt like you had to define what you two really are. That’s what you always think the reason is as to why it works — it just does because you don't feel like it has to go a specific direction. 

Despite all that, it still feels odd that he hasn’t been returning your calls or even updating you on how his day has been. The longest you’d gone without talking was 3 days, and that’s with a heads up. The next few months will be crazy for the band, what with the remaining shows of their tour. It isn't like him to just disappear from your life like this. 

“When was the last time you saw him?” your best friend Chaewon asks over the phone when you finally decide to call someone after finding out Jungkook’s leaving.

“He’s not lost, okay. He’s just not calling,” you correct her. “But last week, we went for a drive, he slept over, and that was it. He just…” you trail. You aren’t even sure how to describe what just happened. 

“Then why don’t you go over there?” She asks, almost as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I don't know, it might get messy. You know I’m not good with confrontations.”

“Just go, Y/N. He probably won’t be calling you after he’s left if he’d been dodging you like this.” 

Chae hangs up shortly after. You figure she probably doesn't want to hear another one of your excuses. You take your best friend’s advice and head for the door, get in your car, and take the 30-minute drive to his house.  

#

“I like to leave,” you tell him. You glance to your right where he sits at the passenger seat of your car then look back on the road. You and Jungkook had just spent dinner with your friends at Chaewon’s apartment and you told him you could drive him back to the dorm. 

He gives you a puzzling look. “Is that some sort of warning that I’ll wake up one day and you’ll just be… gone?” he asks, eyebrows scrunched up. You could see there’s a hint of concern on his face. 

“Oh, I meant I like taking trips,” you laugh, realizing the oddity of what you had just said, which was a response to Jaehyun, your other best friend, mentioning you being voted as ‘most likely to evaporate into thin air’ in high school. 

“Some days I wake up and just feel like being someplace else. So I grab my backpack and my trusty map, get into my car, and head out. By myself. Somewhere,” you say, shrugging, like it’s the most natural thing that people do. 

You describe to him the places you’ve seen — the lakes and mountains and fields that many people don’t know about, how the sunsets are like from there, how the trees and flowers smell like, how otherworldly they look. 

Most of the time, when you’re plagued with fear or sadness or doubt, you just leave. It’s your quick fix, your Band-Aid. You could be gone for a day or over the weekend; sometimes you’d be out for a week and not even your best friends know where you are, just that you’re safe. 

“But why?” he asks. You think it was ironic since this is a guy who leaves for a living. 

“When I was younger, we had this class and the teacher asked us to draw an object that represents us. I didn't even have a clear idea of who I was, how could I find the right object to symbolize me? You’ve got to find yourself, that’s how you’ll know, she said. I asked her how. She told me to go look at a map,” you narrate, looking back at that moment when you stared at your teacher trying to figure out if she was kidding or not. 

“I guess you find yourself in places you don't know. Or you realize who you really are when things get chaotic and you go somewhere far. Or you pull yourself away from the crazy to take a breath and escape some things you’re not really ready to face…” you state. 

“I never knew exactly what she meant, but I figured they all made sense,” you continue, slowing down the car as you’re a block away from his place. “You’ll always find a reason to leave.”

“But does leaving solve any of your problems?” 

“Not always, but sometimes the problem is nothing that you leave behind. Sometimes the problem is you.” You’d thought about the times you came back and felt like a different person with a different perspective on things. 

You look at him smiling, and you realize he’s been looking at you the whole time. You pull on the brakes, ready to say your goodnight, but he isn’t quite finished.

“What’s your favorite thing about leaving?” 

There are so many things you love about it. You love how it means you have the freedom and capability to do anything you want. You love seeing new scenery, discovering places for the first time, meeting new people and learning their stories. It is such a human thing to want to leave, you think. You like everything about it, even the parts where you get completely lost or rained or snowed on because you weren’t prepared. 

“Coming home,” you say. 

He softens at this, a pleased look on his face. 

“It’s like you’re gone for awhile and you see things for the first time, but then you drive back and you start seeing the familiar things — the streetlights, the driveways, the parks, the cafes… And all those constant things, they’re still there even when you leave, like they’re just waiting for you to come back.” 

“You should know that. You’re always jetting off somewhere new,” you say. 

“I leave because I have to. It’s part of the job.”

~

That conversation is ringing in your head the whole car ride to Jungkook’s house. Your knack for driving off is one of those things you never really share with anyone apart from your best friends. You never liked the thought of having to explain yourself to people, especially those you haven’t known for long, but with Jungkook, it never felt like you had to explain anything; you were always just sharing pieces of yourself that you knew he appreciated, that he somehow understood. 

You pull up behind the black SUV parked in front of his place; the same SUV that you know his driver uses to take him to the airport. You turn off the engine and go through the half opened gate, up the steps and through the door. 

You greet one of the members of his security team as she heads out the door and your eyes immediately turn to the two black duffel bags lying on the floor. They’re plump and full of things. You imagine all his black hoodies and sweatpants and leather jackets. You picture the bucket hats all neatly folded and his favorite Balenciaga sneakers tucked in somewhere. It feels weird, standing here at his foyer and just waiting for something to happen. 

You hear steps skipping down the stairs and his voice, assuring “I’ll call you when I get there” to someone on the phone. 

He’s looking down on it, texting someone who isn’t you. He does a double take, probably not expecting to see you standing by his door with a sad and confused look on your face. 

You’re fidgety and you feel nervous. You never liked confrontations, even if you were convincing yourself that is not why you came here in the first place. You just want to see how he was doing, maybe ask what he’s been up to, wish him luck on the shows and that you’d see him when he gets back in two months. 

“Y/N…” he starts. “I wasn't expecting you to be here.”

“Why, because you didn’t expect me to know you were leaving because you didn't tell me?” You say too quickly, resolve dissipating, tone and voice betraying you.

He looks taken aback. “Does it matter that I didn’t?” He says defensively, pulling up his duffel bags on a chair and seemingly looking for something inside one of them. You know he’s just distracting himself so he wouldn't have to look at you. 

“You go home to your parents for three days and you ask to see me the day before, and now you leave for North America for two months and suddenly it doesn't matter that you don’t tell me?” Your voice is getting louder and you immediately wish you hadn’t come here at all. It seems like he doesn’t want you to be here just the same. 

“You didn't even bother returning my calls or texts. And now you’re leaving. Your first show isn’t even until a week from now,” you say, crossing your arms. “What’s the rush?”

“I have a meeting with a producer,” he responds.

“That you couldn’t do during your free days there?” You snap back. You know this, you know they’re given some free time and he could’ve easily slipped that in there.

He sighs, knowing he can’t get out of this one. “I just want to be away from here, that’s all,” he says, glancing at you and then back at his bags. 

“You mean away from me?” 

He continues shuffling things in his duffel. He doesn’t even respond. You know it. He’s leaving because he wants to be away from you. 

“What’s going on, Jungkook? One day we’re laughing our butts off until we fall asleep and the next you just… not call at all.”

“I just didn't feel like it, I guess,” he says, zipping one of the bags and adjusting its strap.

This infuriates you.

“Well that’s nice. It seemed like you always felt like coming over with dinner, keeping me company while I worked, convincing me to go out for drinks, meeting me at the café for breakfast but then all of a sudden you don’t feel like calling?” You bite back.

He’s silent for a while, as if finding the right words to say. 

“You know what else is nice?” he starts, looking at you. “Calling me to come over on Friday nights when you don't feel like being out, asking me to stay the night and having me sleep next to you, kissing me and then telling me that ‘this feels nice and comfortable and fun’ and that I really am a great friend’.” His tone is angry, frustrated, desperate.

You feel your jaw drop open even if it’s closed. You did not see this coming at all. You always felt like you two were on the same page, that you like each other’s company so much that you prefer staying in on Fridays watching movies or National Geographic. You thought you both understand that sleeping next to each other only means you want to talk and laugh until you fall asleep, which is what happens all the time. You kiss then, which you treat like a goodbye because you don’t know if he’ll be there when you wake up. 

“I never thought of you as the selfish and unfair type, but I guess there’s just too many layers of you that it takes time before this side of you comes out.” He swings both his bags to his right shoulder, hinting that he’s ready to leave, that he’s ready to leave things like this. 

He starts walking towards the door. “They weren’t kidding when they said everything you touch turns into a mess.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What the fuck, Jeon,” is all you could say. You’d never seen him this upset. Worse, you’d never seen him this upset at you.

“So what, I turned us into this big mess and you leave just like that? Like it’s not even worth talking to me about whatever it is you’re feeling?” you ask, following his movements. He’s halfway out the door by this time. 

You follow him out, overtake him and make sure he could see your face. “Leaving doesn't always solve problems.”

“Well, Y/N, sometimes it does. Because sometimes you’re not the problem, it’s what you leave behind.”

You look at his face, trying to find pieces of him you thought you’d figured out. He turns away, not wanting to see you like this. You see him soften a little bit, like he didn't mean for things to turn out this way, but you know he isn’t going to let up. You have so many questions running through your mind. What did this all mean? What’s going to happen now? 

“It’s sad how when someone you care about tells you exactly what you are to them, you realize at that moment what they are to you, and it’s the complete opposite.” 

He turns to look at you this time, his face screaming a kind of sadness you’d never seen before. You’d talked about him being homesick all these years when he’s out on tour. He’d shared how the gossip and his negative image have affected him and his relationships. He’d talked about how difficult it was holding onto things and people that were real, but none of those moments could compare to this one and to this look he has on right now that lets you know he’s upset and it has everything to do with you. 

You’re the one he’s leaving behind. You’re the mess he wants to get away from. You’re probably the last person he wants to see before flying out because you’re the problem he doesn't want to deal with. 

“Jungkook…” you start, although you have absolutely no idea what you want to say. You look at him, eyes pleading for something, anything. 

“I have to go,” is all he says. He turns around, clutching his bags over his shoulders, and walks away.

No ‘see you around’ or ‘I’ll call you soon’ like always. It was just ‘I have to go,’ like it was the period to the past months you two have been hanging out. ‘I have to go,’ like ‘leaving you is this need I have to fulfill.’ ‘I have to go,’ like, ‘this is it.’ 

You watch him walk out the gate. You watch the car drive away. There’s always something poetic about watching someone leave. You’d been used to that growing up. Your parents were always leaving, saving lives in places that needed saving, but you always knew they’d still be thinking about you and missing you while they were away. 

But with Jungkook, it was different. You hadn’t quite gotten used to him leaving all the time, and right now, you aren’t sure he’d be thinking about you or missing you while he was gone. 

‘I have to go,’ he said. Like, ‘I’m leaving. I don't want to stick around. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be with you.’

#

Things don’t feel real. You’ve been driving for 30 minutes, unsure where to go, reeling over the conversation you just had with Jungkook, if you could even call it that. It’s like he just dropped a bomb on you that you didn't know he’d had all this time. 

There was so much frustration and sadness on his face that morning and you couldn't get the image out of your head. What have you done? You kept asking yourself. 

But you reason that none of this is your fault. You thought everything was clear between the both of you. Sure, you never really talked about it, but if he was really feeling differently about you, then why didn't he just say something? 

“I’m heading out,” you say to Jaehyun over the phone. He’s always the first person you call when you feel like driving off.

“I’m guessing the talk with Jungkook didn't turn out well?” he asks. 

You don’t respond. You don’t really want to say anything to your friends about all this until you’ve figured things out. 

“Chae told me,” he says, interrupting the silence. 

“Yeah, I figured,” you reply. Information is so fluid between the both of them.

“So where are you off to?” 

“I don't really know, just wherever,” you say, but you know exactly where you’re going. It will just take another hour until you get there.

“Alright, just be safe,” he says, before hanging up. 

You step on the gas and turn on the music. Anything is better than the silence that’s ringing in your ears right now. You hum to the tunes of Colde and LeeHi, praying to the heavens you won’t hear Jungkook’s voice on the next song. This is your ‘favorites’ playlist and he had sneakily included some of his band’s songs one day when you went out to the market to grab some fruits and he stayed at your place watching TV. 

About 60 minutes later, you reach the place. It’s en route to a town a couple of miles south of the city. It’s a turn to the corner, onto a dirt road and a path lined with shrubs and small trees. The entrance to the main beach is right off the highway about a mile away, but you’d discovered this entrance not long ago when you drove off on a Sunday, two days after your ex-boyfriend came knocking at your door months after he broke up with you. It was the first time you spoke since then, and it was also the first time he ever tried to explain himself to you. You remember that trip; it was 7 months ago and it was also the last time you’d been here. Somehow you just felt the pull of this place. 

You realize later on, as you sit on the shore watching the sky turn purple and orange, that you told Jungkook about this when you were here. 

You watched the sunset then just like today. It looked so beautiful and so you snapped a picture and sent it to him. He was in Japan at that time for an event. You’d told him you’d fallen asleep and were just listening to the waves crash on the shore — your favorite sound in the world, you’d said. When it was all over, you decided to call it a day. 

“I’m driving back now,” you’d told him. “Okay,” he responded, voice tired from the day he had. It was rare for you to talk to anyone when you were out. You felt like a part of home was tugging at you when you did. But Jungkook was away and you just wanted him to see what you were seeing. You felt it was a way for you to tell him that you were fine. He didn’t seem convinced when he’d left your apartment that Friday night after Jinyoung visited. The photo you sent of the sunset, and the next one of you lying on the sand, smiling, were enough to convince him that indeed you were. 

“Okay. Hold on to the feeling once you see the familiar,” he’d said. He knew you loved that feeling. He always said he imagined a smile creeping from the left side of your mouth when you realized you were nearing home.

“You’re familiar, Jeon,” you’d told him.  

You liked the idea, that you saw him as something familiar. You’d only known each other then for a few months but you’d talked as if it had been years. He was away but he still felt constant. 

“So are you, Y/L/N,” he replied. 

You were thinking about this, about him, as the dust settled and the sky’s now a pretty dark blue with tiny hints of burnt orange. The waves still sound majestic, truly something you can never get tired of. You feel the cold autumn air tingle your insides. You close your eyes and breathe in to try to immerse yourself in your surroundings, hoping against hope that something will click and things will make sense.

You’d spent the whole afternoon here yet you feel like nothing’s changed. He is on the plane to California and you’re still confused. You still have the same questions from last week, from this morning. He’s still your constant; you just aren’t sure if you’re still his. 

Leaving doesn't always solve problems, you told yourself. You just wished you’d told him one more time. Maybe he would’ve stayed. 

#

“We’re having Spanish,” Chaewon says as you enter her apartment. “And you’re late.” She continues, turning to you with slices of apples and oranges in her hands. You could hear the laughter and the cheers from the living room. Nobody’s minding you because a soccer game is on. 

You envy their energy — why you agreed to continue to help run the cafe even with a full-time job, you don’t know, but it’s starting to take  its toll on you and all you want to do is sleep. Jungkook and the guys will soon be in full preparation mode for the start of the tour and  your superstar friend, who had now also claimed your own friends, wanted to have dinner with everyone before things got too busy.

“You cooked?” you ask, returning your gaze to her after looking out on who is already here.

“Nope. Take-out. But the Sangria is homemade.” 

“Take-out?” you repeat, excitedly,  making your way to the table to check on the food. 

“Jungkook wanted Spanish and take-out,” Chaewon confirms, as laughter roars from the living room. 

You walk over to check on everybody else who all acknowledge your presence with air fist bumps. 

“So you’ve moved past Chinese and Japanese take-out and have gone for Spanish now, huh, Jeon?” you question. He gives you his signature bunny smile from his seat on the floor. He does that quite often when he’s showing off or after he’s done something nice. 

“Hey, it’s a classy place and I get a discount. And, Chae sounded tired when I called so I took it upon myself to save dinner,” he proudly declares, standing up and motioning towards you. How cocky, you think, but you return his pinch on your cheek with a pinch on his nose.

Dinner is as fun as dinner with your friends always goes, but your hectic schedule that day made you extremely tired. After moving to the couch and a glass of Sangria later, you feel your head spinning and rest it on Jungkook’s shoulder. He notices your tired face, nudges at you and says he’s going to take you home. “Thanks, Jeon,” you murmur under your breath. “I promise I won’t puke.”

It takes a few glasses of water and a handful of profiteroles to get you sobered up and ready to head out. He helps you get in his car and you retreat to a semi-fetus position until the next corner. 

“You’re really tired, aren’t you? You’re never this quiet during a car ride. Even when you’re drunk you won’t stop talking… or singing,” he teases. “Out of tune, I might add.” 

You sit up from your sulking position. “Sometimes I just want to choke you, you know” you remark with a serious face. 

“Do you want to feel the wrath of my women?” he questions, winking, referring to his army of fans who are protective of him, and for good reason. 

“They’d probably want to do the same, only in a sexual way.” At this he laughs, shaking his head as if to say you’d done it again, teased him like this and made his cheeks blush.

The ride is a quick one for a Thursday night. You feel you haven't made fun of him enough as he pulls the brakes in front of your apartment building and immediately steps out and walks to your side before you could even thank him and say goodbye. 

He opens the door and pulls you out like it’s routine, although you clearly remember he’d brought you home when you were drunk only twice, one of which was when he’d found you half-naked in your kitchen with a knife, ready to attack him. Since then, Jungkook had made sure to never let you be that drunk again, and always made it a point to feed you sweets so you’d stay awake. 

He’s successful though — you’re sober and awake tonight. You’re just really tired. 

You unlock your apartment door and he steps in with you, goes straight to your kitchen and makes you tea. He knows that chamomile makes you sleep well, and that’s exactly what he prepares.

“So comfortable in my place already, Jeon,” you say after realizing what he’s doing. He just knows in what cupboard your mug is kept, and in which box the chamomile is stored, and how much sugar you put, but then again, he did help you quite a bit organize your kitchenware. He opens a drawer to get aspirin - “Just in case,” he says. You watch him like he had done this many times before. 

A small smile forms on your lips. 

“Look, you’re tired and I convinced you to come tonight. If you don't sleep well, you’ll wake up in a bad mood and complain to me again that your neighbor’s cat is loitering on your steps… and then you’ll blame me.”

You laugh. For someone who deals with so many people everyday, it amazes you how well he remembers things about you like that.

“I was about to say how I like hanging out with you because you make me coffee or tea…”

“You’d do the same for me, Y/N, no matter how much you want to stop yourself from doing so.” He winks at you, tastes the tea, and places it on the counter. 

You sit on the chair and feel the aroma of the tea soothe you. He stands there watching you, pleased with what he’s done. “You good?” he asks, and you nod behind your mug.

You don’t need to be taken care of, you’d told him once. You don’t need someone to be looking out for you when you’re drunk and being clumsy, when you’re busy and not eating, when you’re injured and unable to walk properly, when you’re stressed and needed a break. 

“If you don’t want me here you could always just tell me, you know?” he’d said once. “I won’t take it personally. We’re good with each other that way.” 

But you never asked him to leave. In fact, you always wanted him to stay, always asked him to.

“Ready to call it a night?” he questions, after you put down your empty mug.

You look up at him. You could feel your eyes falling and your body aching for a warm shower and your sheets. It’s been a crazy week and it isn’t even over. You want to rest, but you also don't want to be alone.

“Can you stay?” you ask, biting your lip and trying hard to pull off your puppy eyes so he’d say yes. 

“Sure,” he says. He didn’t wait for an explanation. He didn’t need one. He just understood.

You give him a warm smile. 

“I know you love my couch, but I might forget in the morning you’re here and I might stab you for real this time,” you state. “The bed’s big enough for both of us and Chandler,” you offer, referring to your hedgehog stuffed toy that’s about half your size. 

“At least I get a blanket!” he claims.   

“Thanks, Jeon.” 

A soft smile appears on his face. “Anything for you, Y/N.”

~

By the time you decide to leave the beach, the sky has already settled in a midnight blue. The waves are crashing, and from across the water, you could see lights from the small town not so far away. You think about spending the night there, or driving someplace else and sleeping in your car until the next morning. But you decide to go home, even if you know you’ll just be thinking about him more if you do.

You turn on your engine, put the windows down, and listen to the wind. You think about this morning again. You’re still in denial that he’d said what he did and the implication that you probably led him on all these months. 

But you’re convincing yourself that he couldn't pin this on you — he was always calling, he was always texting, he always wanted to be with you after a busy week, he always made it up to you when he couldn’t come over, he always stayed when you asked him to. 

You two kissed, but it was a soft one, not ravenous or lust-filled. He didn't pull away and you didn’t try to deepen it. But he looked so good after their show and he was gonna be gone for the tour and the alcohol was talking and you let it. 

You kissed again after that. There was no drunken night to blame it on the second time, but it was raining when you woke up the next day and he looked so warm and comfortable sleeping on your bed that you just felt like you had to. But he kissed you back, softly still, and he didn't say anything. He didn't pull you in for another one after. 

If he really felt anything, then he should have. He should have grabbed you and told you he wanted more, that he was feeling differently, that things were changing. He should’ve done it then or any other time after that. He was always honest with you, but you didn't understand why he wasn't honest about this one, why he decided to just stop things and leave you hanging. 

Maybe you weren’t away long enough, because you didn't even realize that you were already home until you saw your neighbor’s white sedan parked in your street. You pull the brakes and park behind it, thinking you were probably absent-minded the entire ride back. 

There’s no warm feeling inside that you’re back. This wasn’t a trip that was meant to change anything or make you figure out how to fix things. All you thought about was that you miss him terribly, and maybe that’s what it was meant for, rub in your face that he’s gone. 

You drag yourself up the stairs and enter your place. It suddenly feels like he’s everywhere in your apartment. You’d moved in last year and not even your best friends or your mom had imprinted enough of themselves inside.

There’s the cup Jungkook bought for you after he broke one of your favorites. There’s this pack of granola bars in your pantry that he got so you wouldn't have to gobble up ice cream when you were hungry. There’s the spare toothbrush he started using after his first night in. There’s your sweatshirt that he returned, and his hoodie that he said he’d get back the next time he sees you. 

And there’s the counter where you both shared take-out dinners and homemade breakfast. And there’s your couch where you spent nights working while he watched TV on mute. And there’s your bed where he’d slept next to you a few times. 

“I shouldn't have watched all those stupid chick flicks when he wasn't talking to me,” you think out loud. Now you’re left with an apartment that has him everywhere. 

You’re  not even together. You’ve shared so much of yourself to each other but never ‘I like you’s’ nor ‘I love you’s,’ not even ‘I miss you’, but why does it feel like you’ve shared all that and more? Why this sudden feeling of emptiness after he told you he had to go and then  left just like that? 

Everything you touch turns into a mess, he told you. 

Your friends joke about it all the time. Your penchant for trying anything that remotely interests you doesn’t necessarily mean you’re good at it. Whether it’s decorating those Valentine’s cookies that Hyejin bakes, molding those vases during a pottery class you impulsively signed up for, or even making pajeon when Chae said you couldn’t fry anything other than your broken-yolk eggs, you just have the tendency to end up with final products that are nothing like what you intended. In look or substance, they’re just not that pretty. Jungkook always laughed along.

But he said it to you today like it burned him. As if to say, look at what you’ve done, I don’t want to be a part of this. 

#

“So uhm, are you just going to sit there and watch us or are you going to help?” Jungkook asks from the floor of your living room, paintbrush in one hand, goodie bag in another. 

Body sprawled on your sofa with legs hanging and kicking off the armrest, you look at him with a pout. “Jaehyun doesn’t want me to.” 

Jaehyun sighs from where he’s sat on the floor. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/N. It’s that I can’t afford to.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” bitterness apparent in your voice. 

It’s a Sunday and your friends are at your apartment to help Jaehyun decorate the goodie bags he’ll be distributing to the kids at the orphanage that he volunteers at. Twice a year, he throws them a party that requires decorating giveaway bags that contain the books and sweets he’s bought with his own money. Jungkook ended up there because, well, by now you don’t question him anymore. They had a day-off and he said he was bored.

“Jaehyun’s being kind. Y/N’s just really shit at these things so he doesn’t let her touch these,” Chaewon says, holding up a bag where she’d painted a rainbow. 

“You got the color order wrong,” you shoot at her. She responds with scowl.

“Come on, Jae. Pretty please. I promise I won’t mess them up like last time,” you plead to Jaehyun. You know he has a soft spot for you.

“You said that the last time, too” Hyejin chides. 

“Wow thanks, guys. No one’ll even pretend to be on my side, huh,” you sit up and frown at everyone.

“Y/N, we are, like, most of the time,” Jaehyun points out, prompting you to glare at your friend. “But I spent my money on these and the party is already next week and I really want the kids to feel hopeful and inspired, not scared, okay? And I want them to actually keep the goodie bags, not throw them away. It’s nothing personal, I promise.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” you wave your hand at them and give up. 

This is a usual occurrence. You know you’re useless with anything that involves the arts that’s why your only contribution every time you guys help Jaehuyn is your apartment as a venue. 

Jungkook arrived an hour earlier with a glimmer and excitement on his face when he saw what your friends were doing, like a little kid at a candy store. He wasted no time and got right down to business. God, those kids who will get his bags would never know they were holding a goldmine. 

“So what happened the last time?” Jungkook asks. 

“She tried to draw a bear but it ended up looking like that character from the monsters cartoon, you know, the one holding its eyes?” Hyejin recalls, laughing as she recalls the proud look on your face and the distressed one on Jaehyun’s. “She tried to remedy it but like, just no. It looked terrible.” 

“No kid would feel hopeful with that,” Chaewon adds.

“I really had to do quality checks of her work and I threw them all away cause they’d gone lumpy. She didn’t even mix the paint well,” Jaehyun continues.

“Yah! I think Jungkook got the message, okay?” You start chuckling, seeing Jungkook’s amused face and his effort to not laugh along at the thought of you being shut down for something you thought was a pretty thing you created. “I’ve accepted that art isn’t my forte.”

“So is cooking, baking, pottery, organizing, arranging…” You throw Chaewon a pillow, smack to her face like she deserves.

“But seriously. Trust her to score the final point of a championship game or write a 30-page report on housewifization and its subordination of women but if it isn’t sports or research, forget it. Everything she touches turns into a mess. RIP to all the cookies and goodie bags and vases that never saw the light of day,” Hyejin dramatically claims. “It’s kind of her thing.”

You shrug. It kind of is your thing. Your unartistic, unorganized, and mindless chaotic ass, for the life of you, just can’t get it together. Clothes and shoes all over the place, gifts wrapped in frayed gift wrappers, cooked food looking inedible… relationships that crash and burn because you couldn’t decide if you wanted to care or not, because you did whatever you felt like just cause you wanted to, because you got too close and didn’t know when to pull away… Yeah, definitely.

You turned to your friends who were all back to being immersed in what they were doing, proud look on their faces at the pieces that will definitely give joy and warmth to whoever will get them.

“I just mess things up, though. At least I don’t break them.”

~

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing in your ears, surprising you so much you almost fall off where you were lying. 

“I’m outside,” Hyejin says on the other line. You get up and open the door.

She turns to you after seeing the blanket on your couch, realizing you had slept there instead of your bed. “Too much of Jungkook in your room, huh?” she says, looking sad, not realizing there was too much of him everywhere. You had just been too tired to go to your room when you got home, but you didn’t answer. 

She takes your silence as a yes and walks to your kitchen to take out the bread and coffee she bought, then heads out to your terrace while you wash up in the bathroom. 

You sit in front of her and eat your breakfast quietly while she watches you take small bites of your cheese bread. You tell her everything that’s happened the past 24 hours — from Jimin’s call to Jungkook’s out-of-left-field outburst. 

“I think I led him on,” you say, head thrown back on the chair, eyes closed.

“Uh, you think?” Hyejin claims. 

“How come none of you ever said anything?” you ask, looking at her. Jungkook didn't say anything; your friends didn’t say anything… Were you that naïve? That selfish? That stupid? 

“Well, it’s not like you’d listen anyway,” she starts. “You always just do what you want. Like, sure constantly talk to the guy giving you heart eyes every time you look at him, go date the guy whose family is in Australia and would most likely go back and leave you, sure spend time and flirt with the insanely hot and kind and funny pop star… like there are no consequences to these things,” she unapologetically says.

“Is that so bad?” you ask. 

You don’t want to sound defensive. You don’t have the energy to really argue with anyone. 

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you didn't see this coming. With how you two were, one of you was bound to fall for the other.”

“We allowed ourselves to get that close, Hyejin, to be… this. Whatever this is. Or was. It’s not like we ever talked about it, though.” 

She raises an eyebrow at you.

“But I just figured we were both mature enough to handle the consequences. I just don't understand why it has to be this screwed up.”

She looks at you as if she’s looking right to your soul. “It’s like you ask someone to play fire with you, and you don't mind if you get burnt. You don't mind if they get burnt, too. That’s what it’s like.” 

“Getting burned is part of it. Getting hurt is part of it. I know that, and I always get over it,” you say. 

“Yeah, but the thing is, you expect the same thing from the other person, too.” 

You don’t like how right she is about all this.

“When you get hurt, you just walk away because you expect it and you accept it and then that’s it, goodbye to everything that was good. Move on to the next relationship that may or may not work out,” she continues.

You cover your face with your arms, as if somehow that’s going to be enough to make up for everything you’ve done.

“But that’s precisely why you always live in the moment, you know? To hell with being careful, or obsessing over whether or not doing something will hurt you. When you feel it that moment, you do it. And you’re okay if it hurts you, or if it leaves you with the shorter end of the stick. You get back on your feet right after anyway.”.

The day at the quad when Jinyoung broke up with you comes to mind. You didn’t even fight for it, you normally don’t; you’d rather spend that time getting over something  and moving on. 

“But Jungkook isn’t like that, Y/N,” she says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Don't you get it? He won’t tell you he feels differently. He won’t tell you and right then and there, realizing you don't feel the same way, just accept it and get over it.”

You look back to that last morning you had together, the tangled limbs, the morning kiss, watching him get ready, the words “stay a little longer” almost slipping past your lips like always, but instead saying that it was nice and comfortable and fun. He smiled then. 

“Thanks for doing that for me; you really are a great friend,” is what you said before he left. So you weren’t dreaming the crestfallen look you saw on his face. With furrowed brows he took his phone, multiple messages probably telling him to go back to the dorm, and then he was gone. 

Your eyes widen at the memory. That’s what he was referring to. You’d been too frustrated at him ignoring you that you didn’t even bother to think of what might’ve triggered it. 

Hyejin seems to pick this up. “So are you now realizing you’re an idiot?” 

You smack her arm and she winces, deservedly so. 

“Okay, fine. I may have been one but to ignore me like that and then just leave? He waited last minute to tell me what he was feeling and then he fucking left, leaving me here confused and hurt and in agony. That’s way worse than my quick and easy,” you exclaim. 

“Sometimes people will cover up the pain rather than just say they’re hurt. Some hearts are wired that way, Y/N. Not everyone does quick and easy. Not everyone gets to accept their own feelings, and upon realizing they’re not reciprocated, moves on right away like you do.” 

You let everything sink in.

“It was my second time at that beach yesterday, you know?” You start after a long silence.

“The first time was after Jinyoung had come over to explain himself. I was already over the break up; I left to get over his reason for it. But yesterday when I was down there, all I could think about was how much I miss Jungkook. Like, it was the only thing going through my head the entire time I was there. He was always leaving but I always knew that when he got back, he’d be knocking at my door again…” you trail. You know it isn't going to be the same this time around. 

“People have their own reasons for leaving, you always say that. You can never fault them for why they choose to. You leave because you want to figure yourself out. He left because he probably didn't want to deal with what he’s feeling for you.”

Feelings. You always made sure to keep yours in check, but Hyejin was right; you also always expected the same from him.

You look out on the city and get lost in your thoughts. People always thought of you as someone who had things figured out - you know what you want from life and from those who are part of it. You’d walked away from people and let them walk away from you when you knew it had to happen. But this whole deal with Jungkook feels like unfamiliar territory. 

If it were someone else, you probably would’ve just let it go, but you keep thinking about Jungkook and the way his dimples still surprise you every time he smiles and how his laugh is so childlike and infectious it annoys you and warms your heart at the same time. 

You can't get off your head how it feels to hear him say ‘good morning’ when you wake up and find his arm gently resting on your waist, your fingers always tempted to trace the ink decorating his own. 

You warm at the thought of how he manages to make you feel better when you’re tired, how he never makes you feel hopeless when you’re being angry at all the unjust things in the world, how he reminds you of all the good there is during the times you forget. 

You think of how you don’t want to lose all that.

“Feelings…” you say. You couldn’t get used to the idea that he has them for you. 

“Do you have them too?” Hyejin finally asks. 

You were so hung up on how the past week has been, that he ignored you, that he left, that you didn't even stop to think of why, and more importantly, what you feel for him.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ve never seen you like this with anyone, though.”

“It’s because I’ve never been like this with anyone.”

“Like what?”

“Cautious?” 

“You mean, spending so much time together, constantly talking, kissing, is you being cautious?” She’s asks, incredulous.

You shrug. “It was never anything more.”

“Then why do you do them?” She snaps back.

“Because I want to? I’m always ready for him to turn me down.” It does surprise you every time he says yes to your requests, to your calls, your kisses. “But he never does.”

“But you don’t ask for anything more?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.” 

Hyejin groans. “You’re giving me a headache.” 

“What did I say?!” 

“How can you want all of that and none of it at the same time? Seriously, you guys are like, friends with benefits without the sex…”. 

You throw her a piece of bread, scandalized with what she just said. But you laugh at this. Your friends had joked about that before; even his band mates agreed. You were everything and nothing at the same time, stuck in the grey scale that neither of you were willing to admit. Or move away from. 

“I think you just wanted everything - you wanted company, you wanted him to stay the night, you wanted to kiss, you wanted him to hold you,  you wanted to talk… You wanted to be friends.” When Hyejin says it like that, you do seem like a fool.

“But you didn’t want what those actually implied or even required from you,” she continues. “Almost like there’s this line you’ve set for both of you that only you can see.”

You sigh in frustration. You know when you drew that line, when you’d warned yourself to never cross it, when you’d promised yourself to never want more.

“I guess I always knew what I really felt… I probably just denied it or didn't want it enough,” you think out loud.

“So what now?” She finally asks the painfully obvious question. “What will you do now?”

“Wallow in my self misery and remind myself everyday that I'm an idiot,” you answer back.

“Hmm. You’re too easy on yourself,” she says.

You smack her arm again, which earns you a laugh from her. “I’m kidding! But seriously, now that everything's a little clear, what are you going to do?”

“Make things even clearer?” You sigh. “I feel like such a mess, Hyej. And he’s the one who usually cheers me up when I feel like shit but I can’t ask that from him, now can I?” You say, your body now slumped in your chair, feeling like you’re back to square one.

“You can’t and you won’t.” She walks over to you to pull you up like a big baby. “You’ve got 2 months to figure your shit out before he comes back. Better start now,” she says, as she ushers you back inside.

#

There’s continuous knocking on the door, causing you to get up from your seat on your work desk and you readied yourself to fight whoever decided to disturb your busy Saturday morning. 

You open the door and are greeted with a loud bellow, your name being sung in opera-style by a certain doe-eyed boy. 

“Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing! You’re gonna wake the neighbors,” you shout, pulling him inside.

“Your closest neighbor is an old woman who’s hard of hearing. I think we’re good,” he smiles, eyes all innocent-looking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask. It’s one of those rare Saturday’s when the guys are afforded a full day off - no practice, no show, no filming. He always looked forward to days like this, which you expect he’d spend sleeping in or exercising or playing Overwatch. 

“Got a free day,” he gleams.

“I know but what are you doing here?” 

“You’ve been cranky and whiny this whole week. And you don’t respond to my memes,” he says, pouty lips making him look like a little kid that hasn’t been given much attention.

“I told you it’s work. I’m short on time to work on my reports since I got dragged to this week-long event. But I think my brain cells have dissipated; I can’t seem to construct simple sentences anymore,” you sigh, heading for your couch to sink into. “I’m sorry for not responding to your memes.”

“I’ll forgive you only if you come with me.” 

“To where?” Your brow quirks up, finally taking in his baggy pants and loose white polo and bucket hat. “And what look are you going for with this whole get up?” You question, not missing the mismatched pieces of clothing and shades perched on his hat. 

“Something unassuming. I asked Jin hyung for advice and raided Tae’s closet,” he shrugs. 

“So what do you say? Come with me. Take a break! You won’t get any more productive being cooped up in here. Plus, artists need to go out for inspiration and you don’t seem like you’re getting it here,” he says with a smug look. You smack his arm, knowing that last bit he only said to mock you.

But it’s the words you always say to him; now he’s just saying them right back to you. “I promise to buy you snacks,” he says, reaching out his hand to you and pushing you to your room to get dressed.

And that promise he keeps. He rented a simple car so his luxurious one wouldn’t catch attention. You take a drive out of the city, sing your lungs out in the car, and go store hopping. You find supermarkets and convenience stores and little shops to look for different kinds of snacks that you both try and make reviews of. Every pretty view you see has you stopping the car and admiring the scene. 

You inhale the fresh air, something you don’t get much in the city, and you appreciate this. You get back to your place, complain about your tummy aches, laugh until you fall asleep, tangled limbs and all, but not before telling him it was the most fun you’d had in a while and your brain feels rejuvenated enough to get the reports done in the next few days. 

He falls asleep with that smile, the proud one he’d have on when you show your appreciation for him. He does like getting praises, that much you know.

You wake up to his quiet snores, cheek squished on the pillow with a hand over your waist, like always. You know you have to wake him up soon, which you do with a soft kiss, like always too. You watch him smile into the kiss and return it, until he finally opens his eyes to look at you. 

“Get up, sleepyhead. They’ll be calling you over soon,” you say. 

You watch him ready himself from your bed, still drowning in that kiss with a lazy smile on your face. You want to tell him to stay a little longer, even if you’re the one pushing him to get ready. 

You always want to say that, whether it’s walking out the door at night or getting up from your bed in the morning. You always want to ask him to stay a little bit more but you never do, thankful for whatever time he could spare you, careful not to ask for more than what he could give.

Yesterday was good. You’d been drowning in work, and you’d blown off your friends this past week and you knew that Jungkook had a busy week as well. But yesterday felt nice. He’d given up his own free day to be with you and he willingly did so, knowing that you need it without you saying it out loud. 

You had fun during the drive, and even more so exploring the store aisles, figuring out which brand of shrimp cracker or chocolate milk to get, buying all of them anyway, and excitedly opening them, finishing it all up and proceeding to give your review like those YouTubers you both liked to watch. 

It always feels like this with him, but you had been so tired and drained that being with him yesterday just made you feel so happy. It showed with how you constantly leaned into him, how you rested your head on his shoulder as he was deciding on the size of banana milk he would buy, knowing he’d be resting his head on yours as a response. 

You were missing physical affection and he was always willing to give you that, and you liked that he never seemed to ask for more. You’d initiate and he’d return, you’d pull and he’d let you, no questions asked. It felt comfortable enough, you thought. You didn’t have to explain yourself or your actions. It just always seemed like a given. 

He’d said that he was dealing with a lot already as a pop star, that stuck with you and you knew from then on it was code for him not wanting to get into a relationship, and despite having being single for a little over a year already, you had too much going on in your life too that you didn’t really need any commitments at this point. You were on the same page, for sure.

It was nice and comfortable and fun, that’s what you tell him. You’re referring to the day you had, and what it’s like with him too, in general. You watch him pull his gray hoodie over his head. The black one, his favorite, you’d worn the night before, and you hug yourself to say you don’t want to return it yet. 

He chuckles, “Fine. I’ll get it back the next time I see you.” You like his scent, but you’d never say this to him too.

You stand up to head to the kitchen, feeling refreshed and ready to be productive for the rest of the week. You know it had so much to do with the previous day, as if the laughter and smiles you had made up for that entire week when you barely did either. You give him a quick hug. “Thanks for that, Jungkook. You really are  a great friend.”

His face falls a little bit, as he clutches onto his phone to check the multiple messages probably telling him to go back home. You don’t think much of it. When you turn back to him, he’s gone.

~

part 1 drabble <<>> part 2 drabble

series masterlist

[1ddotdhq]

🏝 Sun 4 Oct ‘20 👻

Is tonight a full moon or something?? Because let me tell you - whew! Today’s gonna be one of those days that seem like I’ve made everything up, but I promise that it’s all true (or as true as it can be in this fandom). 

We started last night with Harry joining Jim Carey in an SNL sketch - Carey was a stressed out mid-debate Biden who needed a moment to Calm down (lol) and Harry was, well, himself, reading his own Dream With Me Story in a soothing fashion. Can you BELIEVE that after ALL this time the true couple was Harry x Biden all along?? So sorry Obama, I know that it must be hard to go home and to be so lonely. 

Liam is doing a new Hugo glasses campaign which looks: really good! Some posters have already been pasted all over London, so we now wait to see the reveal. And, he went live with Draco Malfoy himself, and confirmed that he will be doing a Halloween version of the LP show (tickets on sale now!) and Tom Felton will be opening the show. Um...WHAT??I know that I said the other day that I wished they WOULD perform together, but I didn’t think that it would ACTUALLY happen!!! Despite the (par for the course) tech issues, it was a cute, socially distanced live with Tom in LA and Liam in London. They even compared ships!! “Is there shipping in the 1D fandom”, Tom asked. Uh, yes, said Liam, “there’s ziams, larries, we got narries” (every larrie i’ve seen: “we’d like to be excluded from this narrative”). And Tom, in comparison, had “Darry and Drapple”, the latter of which is Draco and an apple (no, I don’t get this one either).  In a passing moment, Tom said they should collaborate on a song, and Liam said, “For definite”. Look - if Liam takes fan requests (and he clearly does): can Liam be Harry and Tom be Draco for the Halloween show??? Pleeeaaaasssseee??? 

*Looks around* that’s it, right? Not quite! Yorkshire based magazine called This is Y ran an online competition which they were calling the “World Cup of Yorkshire” where fans could vote from their favorite Yorkshire based artist. Guess who won? Go on, guess! Yup, Louis, oBvIOusLy. The magazine then went on to say that fans might have “come for One Direction” (lmao) but they hoped fans also discovered a bit of Yorkshire along the way! Um, so. Yeah, go Louis! The runner up, a band called “Embrace”, said that they are DEVASTATED (hahaha) and thanked friends and family for the support. They also made sure to throw a link to their Patreon for exclusive content, and mentioned that both Harry and Louis are fans of theirs! I don’t doubt it, actually - it seems very on brand for them to support local artists! 

I would also like to take this time to remind everyone know that NO, we still don’t know the Zaby’s name, and NO, Zayn didn’t pop up to inform us, he popped up to cheer for another UFC prize fighter, para variar! Look, the longer they take to tell us her name, the longer I’m gonna call her Liya in my head, just for laughs. 

Meanwhile, yesterday Niall was finally reunited with his two loves: pubs and Lewis Capaldi. 

[thnxforknowingme]

Jenna my beloved <3

how are you? how's everything going?

I need to know your rating of all the klaine duets (and/or sperately a ranking of Kurt's and Blaine's solos)

hope everything is going well 🧡

Hello Myle!

I've been putting off this answer until I finished my rewatch so I could see Daydream Believer in context before passing judgement. But now I have finished, and I have agonized over this ranking (I can't even imagine ranking each of their solos, that's a whole other undertaking) and here are my resulting thoughts:

16. Perfect - it's fine. I mean none of their duets are bad but this is the least compelling.

15. Story of My Life - it's also...fine. I don't understand in context why this was the song that was chosen for this scene, like even among 1D songs it's not that interesting (no shade to 1D, I enjoy many of their songs), if they wanted to impress a potential industry connection why not choose something more challenging or dynamic?

14. Love Is a Battlefield - the song itself is very fun, but nothing exceptionally impressive about the performance.

13. Daydream Believer - a good performance, nothing particularly special, but it does have some excellent Kurt-low-voice moments which I'm such a slut for

12. Somebody Loves You - really cute song, not particularly excellent but a lot of fun

11. You Make Me Feel So Young - maybe it's just the overwhelming amount of pop songs versus more classic, musical songs like this, but it makes this song stick out because it showcases their voices - individually and together - so well!

10. White Christmas - My least fave of the Christmas duets, but still has a fun vintage feel

9. American Boy - I don't know why I love this song so much but I do. Is it weird to hear Blaine try to use the same slang derived from Jamaican influence on a multicultural London sociolect as Estelle does? Yes. But it's still a fucking bop.

8. Animal - I love this song in general and also it holds a very special place in my heart as a pre-Klaine duet that made the fandom lose their minds before we discovered the context. Also just sounds good.

7. Candles - objectively a good song, a nice ballad for the boys, even if the context was a little antithetical to the lyrics

6. Let It Snow - a top-tier Christmas song. Like if I were ranking Glee Christmas songs this would probably be #2. It's jazzy, it's fun, they perform it in formalwear in their imaginary """bachelor""" chalet in the Swiss Alps. Top-notch, but it's still a Christmas song so the playability is pretty limited.

5. Just Can't Get Enough - oh my GOD this song is so catchy and adorable and I just love it

4. Got To Get You Into My Life - I'm a little biased because I have been a Beatles fan from birth, and I also feel like this was one of the few Beatles songs in the two tribute episodes that Glee actually did a really good job of covering...and also just such a fun performance

3. Baby It's Cold Outside - the OG. Words cannot describe the joy that this duet brought when I was but a 15-year-old child watching these two dumb boys make heart-eyes at each other on my television (back when we actually had cable TV, in the Olden Days). Still sounds so good, a god-tier Christmas song that you KNOW is on the playlist I break out every year in December. God your lips look delicious indeed

2. It's Too Late - I HAD FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS GEM until my recent rewatch of season 6. Oh my GOD it's so good. I mean, the original song is already incredible. And then KLAINE takes a crack at it?! The way they perform it as a duet, the way that their particular lines are split up to show their relative perspectives? The MATURITY of this duet, and the ANGST, and the LONGING. I've listened to it on repeat before and I will again. This song burrows into my SOUL it's INCREDIBLE

1. Come What May- I mean. I mean. It's the ultimate fucking love song. It's yearning and devotion incarnate. It's from a fucking dream sequence. The vocals - out of this world. The emotion - unparalleled. The fandom reaction to seeing this in a time period when Klaine was broken up, but this song proved that they were soulmates/endgame/would love each other until their dying day???? - incomparable. A masterpiece of a song. Inject this shit directly into my veins.

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

Easy Company as One Direction Songs

~ These are my headcanons inspired by 1D songs. I’d love to hear your thoughts :) ~

Dick Winters - I SHOULD HAVE KISSED YOU

“It's all that I can think about Oh, you're all that I can think about”

Mr. Perfect who’s always in his own head. Winters is calm and collected and almost cold in a first encounter. However, after his initial attraction, he will proceed to dissect every moment for what he could’ve and should’ve done. The only thing that will satiate him is getting to know the person he’s just found himself falling for.

Harry Welsh - OLIVIA

“I live for you, I long for you, Olivia I've been idolizing the light in your eyes, Olivia”

The majority of the lyrics in this song isn’t very Harry Welsh-esque because he truly is such a subtly steadfast lover. It’s the general tone that encapsulates his initially facetious manner, and once you get into the lyrics you see how much he truly cares.

Lewis Nixon - MIDNIGHT MEMORIES

“Tell me that I'm wrong but I do what I please Way too many people in the Addison Lee”

This vagabond bachelor-wannabe is here for a good time not a long time. Nixon can fall in and out of love in a single night. At his core he knows who he is and doesn’t need anyone to “save him”, so he’s just playing the most enjoyable version of this game, life.

Ronald Spiers - FOOL’S GOLD

“But I know in my heart, you're not a constant star And yeah, I let you use me from the day that we first met”

On the surface, Spiers seems eager and reckless. But on a deeper level he invests himself completely in his companies, his missions, and eventually his wife. His fervent looting seems to be a desperate lure to keep his wife who eventually defaults back to her first husband.

Carwood Lipton - WHERE DO BROKEN HEARTS GO

“All the rest of my crimes don't come close To the look on your face when I let you go So I built you a house from a broken home”

Lipton is the first to discount himself. He is constantly striving to better and never realizes the impact he actually has on those around him. Lipton is the guy to sacrifice a love he underestimates for duty, for career, then immediately realize the mistake he made. He will spend the rest of his life making up for that.

Floyd Talbert - ALIVE

“I asked the doctor, "can you find out what is wrong with me? I don't know why I wanna be with every girl I meet”

Floyd has this incredible likability that allows him to get away with what would be offensive if anyone else did it. He’s a huge flirt (and then some) and even resigns his position as 1st sergeant all while maintaining the love and admiration of all that know him. If this were high school, he’d be the kid who always kicked his feet up on his desk, “just chillin’”, and graduates salutatorian.

George Luz - STAND UP

“I would walk through the desert, I would walk down the aisle, I would swim all the oceans just to see you smile, Whatever it takes is fine”

Luz is nothing if not persistent. He’ll shoot his shot until he runs out of bullets. And for all of his comedic charm, he is hopefully devoted to his partner like he is devoted to living life for all of its joys and pleasures.

Joe Liebgott - STORY OF MY LIFE

“Leave my heart open But it stays right here in its cage”

He talks about finding a wife and having lots of little Liebgotts but there’s a sharp edge to Liebgotts heart that hurts him as much as it protects him. He wants to be open to love but he can’t seem to push past the walls he has up. His sharp tongue defends himself with cheap remarks and dark jokes.

Don Malarkey - HOME

“I was stumbling, looking in the dark with an empty heart But you say you feel the same, Could we ever be enough?”

Clearly he is just wrecked by the end of the war. However, we’re reminded of the happy-go-lucky kid who sat down to chat with an enemy soldier when he pops champagne in the Eagles Nest. This song is simply Malarkey; an acknowledgement of heartbreak with tentative hope for a simple, yet satisfying, love.

Joe Toye - LOVE YOU GOODBYE

“Oh, even though it's over you should stay the night, If tomorrow you won't be mine, Won't you give it to me one last time?”

Just imagine Toye as a deeply passionate romantic. He’s this gruff, most badass soldier but it’s revealed (especially in Malarkey’s book) that he is incredibly sensitive. He won’t grovel or protest; but his flame is only extinguished, it doesn’t burn out as embers.

Bill Guarnere - THEY DON’T KNOW ABOUT US

“Oh, they don't know about the things we do They don't know about the I love you’s”

Guarnere is the cock of the walk who confidently charms any lady who passes him on the street. He’s the kind of guy to flirt high and low but always return home to his partner. Guarnere would never truly hurt or betray the one he loves.

Buck Compton - READY TO RUN

“Then there's me inside a sinking boat, running out of time Without you, I'll never make it out alive”

At his best, Buck is a grand ol’ time. At his lowest, his empathetic love for all his people takes him to a dark place. Buck is ready to escape the pain of the world and live life vivaciously with whoever will take him as he is.

Skip Muck - STEAL MY GIRL

“She be my queen, Since we were sixteen We want the same things, We dream the same dreams”

Skip is the kind of guy to have a high school sweetheart. Imagine him knowing his partner’s family so well that he can just walk into the house, kiss his partners mom on the cheek, and help himself to the fridge. He’s the kind of guy to help his partner’s dad with housework before going home to shower only to return to take his partner out to the movies. Such a wholesome kind of love that is unwavering and constant.

Doc Roe - STRONG

“I'm sorry if I say, "I need you" But I don't care, I'm not scared of love”

It takes a minute for Roe to get there with people; he has carefully constructed boundaries. But once he’s in, he’s in. He has seen too much pain, too many soul crimes, to not find strength in true love when it’s right there in front of him.

Babe Heffron - FIREPROOF

“I roll, and I roll 'til I'm out of luck Yeah, I roll, and I roll 'til I'm out of luck”

This song’s feel good beat is Babe; it’s an unperturbed rhythm singing about a steady kind of love. Babe probably didn’t see this love coming but picked it up so seamlessly as it came along that it was as if it always had been.

Frank Perconte - TAKEN

“Now that I finally moved on You say that you missed me all along”

Perconte is the type to fall victim to the on again-off again love. Often times, he is underestimated for what he has to offer. Unfortunately, his presence is missed only when it’s gone - a gap. He has a hard time saying goodbye once he’s attached because he loves so purely. But inevitably, with time, those idealist dreams of a traditional romance will be tainted by inexperience and indecision.