#thinking of maybe starting the long ballad or dating in the kitchen

[silveranchor]

Finished A Female Student Arrives at The Imperial College and like...

Was the plot dragged on for way too long?

Was the pacing a whole mess?

Were the scriptwriters inconsistent and confused as heck?

Yes, yes, and yes

Idc, tho. Cp was cute ride-or-die, characters were engaging, costumes and hair looked great, it was funny as heck, it made me cry towards the end because I was so angry at that one character, and it was overall a good time.

Plus, my girl Lusi was phenomenal in it and looked breathtaking all the time, so of course I enjoyed the show.

Would recommend as a palate cleanser after any of her other more intense shows.

[legolasghosty]

Can I request 18. I know autumn camping trips are totally aesthetic but it’s cold as shit in this tent, can we snuggle? for either Boggie or Flarrie? Your choice.

- @michelangelinden

You say or, I say and. Same thing, right? /j Anyways, this one got a bit long, but oh well. This AU just turned into a whole thing in my head, so.... Idk, maybe there will be more of it in the future? Hope you like it! Love you!!!!

The Great Wilson Family Camping Adventure felt like it was doomed even before it began.

Carrie's dad had been going on and on about this plan for months, how he was going to take his kids out into the woods so they could all get to know each other and become closer as a family, away from all the regular pressure of work and school. Yup, kids, plural. 

Ever since Trevor had discovered that his old ex-girlfriend had a son, his son, life in the Wilson household had been a rollercoaster. Carrie was pretty sure she’d never forget coming into the kitchen and discovering her dad on a video call with some woman she’d never seen before. Okay, the video call thing wasn’t that uncommon, though he usually did that sort of stuff in the den. What was unusual about it was the set of her dad’s jaw, the hand clenched around a glass so hard that Carrie was afraid it would shatter, and the even tone he only used when he was nearing a breaking point and didn’t want to show it.

It had taken some time for the whole story to come out, but eventually Carrie had pieced together that her dad had dated this girl back before meeting Carrie’s mom, and that they’d broken up because she was going out with someone else behind his back. The woman had moved away from the area, neither her nor Trevor realizing she was pregnant.

The next part of the story was blurry at best, since the only one who was both willing and able to talk about it had been six or seven at the time. But as near as Carrie could figure out, there had been some… issues in the life of Dierdra Shaw leading to many things, including a CPS investigation and her son, Bobby, going to live with his grandparents in Los Angeles.

And so, by some weird, cruel twist of fate, one of Julie’s bandmates turned out to be Carrie’s biological half-brother.

Carrie didn’t have any issues with Bobby, per se, but… it wasn’t like they had much in common. He liked alt-rock and lived in the same pair of vans 24/7. She preferred pop and power ballads and would change shoes at least twice a day, thanks to dance classes and various events. And her dad, their dad, was making all of them go camping together. For ‘family bonding’ or something.

But at ‘family dinner’ a few nights before they left, her dad had asked Bobby if there was anything he wanted to bring to make it more comfortable or fun. It was a reasonable question, but instead of bringing up food or a space heater like Trevor was probably expecting, Bobby had hesitantly asked if it would be okay for him to bring Reggie, his bandmate and boyfriend.

That night, after Bobby had confirmed all the plans for the trip and gone home, Carrie had asked her dad if Flynn could join them as well, since Reggie was coming. Her dad had made excuses about how Reggie was just coming since Bobby didn’t know either of them that well, but Carrie had refused to budge. Whether her dad acknowledged it or not, this was an awkward situation for her too.

“Okay, I think that’s our site.”

Her dad’s overly cheery tone pulled Carrie out of her thoughts. She looked up from her phone just as he parked the SUV. Her dad and Reggie had both tried to get people talking at the start of the three-hour trek, but with Carrie and Bobby stuck in the middle together, things hadn’t exactly gotten chatty. It had quickly turned into an ‘everyone has their headphones on and is ignoring each other’ type of drive, apart from Reggie and Trevor in the front seat. Carrie really hoped Bobby couldn’t tell that she spent most of the time texting with her girlfriend, who was literally sitting right behind her.

Look, it was just awkward, okay? She and Bobby had always been chill, but they weren’t friends, not really. To her, he was Julie’s bandmate and Reggie’s boyfriend. He probably thought of her as Julie’s friend or Flynn’s girlfriend or something. But her brother? No, that was just too weird. 

But she also cared about her dad. She hadn’t seen him this anxiously excited in years. So she could do this. And she had Flynn to keep her sane while they all did something Carrie was 99% sure her dad hadn’t done since he was little.

“Ah, smell that fresh mountain air,” Trevor declared enthusiastically as he climbed out of the car.

Bobby still had one earbud in, but at Reggie’s encouraging nod, he said, “Yeah, it’s nice.”

Carrie was pretty sure her dad’s smile was going to blind someone if he kept it up. She slid out of the car and walked quickly around to the trunk. “The tent is going to be big enough for all five of us, right?” she asked.

“Sure it will be,” Trevor responded, opening the trunk and pulling out a big, blue cooler that Carrie knew he must have borrowed from Julie’s dad. “Bobby, you wanna help me get it set up?” he asked, pulling the tent (also most likely belonging to the Molinas) out of the back.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably but shrugged. “Sure,” he said quietly.

Reggie followed the two men over to the middle of the campsite, where there was a large flat area for the tent. Carrie started pulling bags of food out of the trunk while they dealt with the tent.

“How you holding up,” Flynn asked quietly, taking a bag from her.

“I’m fine I guess,” Carrie answered, leaning on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Flynn raised their eyebrows, making it clear that they knew it was a lie, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she helped Carrie unpack the van, setting all the food on the wooden picnic table, which looked about two minutes from collapsing, and piling the sleeping bags in the backseat until the tent was ready for them.

Then, because her dad, Bobby, and Reggie were still struggling with the tent, Carrie carefully started on dinner. Thank goodness her dad had brought the little propane stove, since she had no idea how to cook over a fire. Flynn managed to get it turned on and they got some water boiling without too many issues. Carrie poured in what should be enough pasta for everyone to cook, standing guard so it didn’t boil over. Flynn moved behind her and wrapped their arms around her waist.

“You having a good time back there?” Carrie snarked as Flynn rested their chin on her shoulder.

“I’m watching my hot girlfriend make me dinner, I’m having a great time,” Flynn retorted.

“Flattery won’t get you food any sooner,” Carrie sassed, ignoring the flush in her cheeks at both the compliment and her partner’s proximity. “You’re still gonna have to wait till this finishes.”

“Awww, not even a little taste?” Flynn asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. “Someone has to make sure it’s not poisoned.”

“Wow, you think I’d poison you?” Carrie responded, tone dripping with mocking sweetness. “Please, I could think of a million better ways to kill you if that’s what I wanted, sweetie.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” Flynn challenged, leaning in closer so Carrie felt the words against her cheek.

“Who’s poisoning dinner?” Trevor asked, coming up to them with a confused expression.

Carrie rolled her eyes. “No one, dad, it was a joke,” she informed him as she checked the pasta. It seemed to be done, so she carefully lifted it off the stove.

“Here, let me help,” Bobby said, grabbing the strainer and holding it out for her.

Carrie was surprised by the gesture but carefully poured the pasta into the offered container. Once she mixed it with the sauce, they all settled down around the table to eat. Carrie was glad when Flynn immediately settled against her side, letting Carrie lean on her without it being so obvious to the rest of the group.

“So, Bobby, what’s your favorite thing to do out here in the woods?” Carrie’s dad asked, grinning widely.

“Uh, I mean, I’ve never been here,” Bobby responded uncertainly. “Lola didn’t like driving this far, so we usually stayed closer to the city.”

The table fell into an awkward silence for a minute. Carrie could feel the tension building with every passing second, but she had no idea how to break it without making things worse. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it broken. Because this was how it was now, all the time. At school events and barbeque parties at the Molinas’ and the ‘family dinners’ that her dad had never even tried to make happen before he realized he had another kid. It was mean, but a part of Carrie wished all that tension would just snap like a rubber band, hurling everyones’ lives back to how they were before. 

“Well you can’t have a good camping trip without s’mores,” Reggie commented finally.

“Yes!” Trevor exclaimed, locking onto the topic. “I haven’t made them in years, but I have marshmallows and everything so we can give it a shot after dinner.”

“Did you get Reeses?” Flynn asked. “Peanut butter s’mores are God’s gift to humanity.”

The conversation continued between the three of them, both Carrie and Bobby staying quiet. Carrie was endlessly grateful to her partner for being willing to come on this dumpster fire of a camping trip. 

She glanced over at Bobby, trying to gauge his mood. He was staring at the table, not quite angrily, but… something. Carrie couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was intense, like poking your head into another room only to realize that a horror movie was playing inside. Scary, but not angry. Just… intense and unexpected. She was surprised to realize that she didn’t want to run away from it.

“Okay, Bobby, you want to help me build a fire?” her dad asked, pushing up to his feet.

Carrie tried to ignore the little sting that came from Bobby being the only one on the receiving end of the invite. She was getting used to that.

“Sure,” Bobby responded quietly, sticking his dirty bowl in the dish bin and heading over to the firepit.

The two men crouched by the rusty metal enclosure, Bobby reaching inside to carefully lay down some sticks. Reggie watched them for a minute, his face a mix of love and concern, then turned to Flynn and Carrie.

“You guys mind helping me with the dishes?” he asked, grabbing a bucket. “It’s a lot faster with more than one set of hands.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Flynn agreed.

Carrie quietly followed the pair over to the bathrooms, where Reggie filled up his bucket with warm water from the spigot outside.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Reggie asked Carrie as they walked back.

She looked up at him, startled by the question. “Shouldn’t you be asking your boyfriend that?” she responded, fighting to keep the instinctive snap out of her voice.

“I have been,” Reggie answered. “And this whole thing is really hard for him. I can’t imagine it’s any easier for you. So are you doing okay?”

Carrie felt Flynn’s hand slip into hers as she considered how to answer. It wasn’t like she and Reggie were close at all, the only one of the guys she felt she really was close with was Alex, and maybe Willie. But they’d spent some time watching lousy Hallmark movies together after everyone else fell asleep at movie night. She’d bought him pizza for lunch. He’d given her a ride a few times. They weren’t quite friends, but…

“Not really,” she admitted. “It’s nothing against Bobby, it’s just this whole thing is… a lot.”

“That makes sense,” Flynn said, squeezing her hand.

They reached the campsite then and Reggie grabbed the dish soap and sponge to start doing the dishes. Flynn picked up a towel to dry them once he was done. Left without a task, Carrie sat back down at the picnic table, watching her dad and Bobby build their fire.

Just then, Bobby glanced back at her, that unreadable expression still on his face. “Hey Carrie, could you bring me the lighter?” he called.

Carrie raised an eyebrow and was about to point out that there was clearly a book of matches sticking out of his back pocket, but suddenly some part of his expression made sense. He wasn’t asking for a lighter, he was asking for a lifeline. Until Reggie had mentioned it a few minutes ago, Carrie hadn’t thought much about how this would feel from Bobby’s side of things. But suddenly finding out that some famous music star was your biological father, being pulled into a family you had no concept of, it couldn’t be easy. Especially with all of said biological father’s attention on you whenever you were in the same room.

“Yeah, just a sec,” she responded, glancing around the table for a minute before spotting the little green lighter. She grabbed it and joined Bobby and her dad by the firepit. She handed over the lighter, then placed herself between Bobby and her dad as she gave the little twig tent a skeptical look. “Is that actually gonna work?” she questioned.

Bobby shot her a grateful look at making some space between him and their dad, but didn’t comment. “Watch and learn,” he chuckled instead, setting a piece of crumpled paper inside and setting it on fire. 

Slowly but surely, the sticks started to catch. Bobby carefully fed larger branches and eventually logs into the dancing flames, looking more at peace here than Carrie had ever seen him outside of band practice and the occasional group movie night. She settled on a log bench beside the fire, watching the sparks fly up into the darkening sky. Flynn joined her a few minutes later, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Carrie rested her head gratefully on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Her dad went back to the car to find a proper camp chair, complaining about his back, and Carrie could see some of the tension start to leave Bobby’s body as the distance between them grew. Reggie dropped onto another log right behind Bobby, and he leaned back against his legs, shooting a smile up at his boyfriend and receiving a quick peck on the lips. Carrie smiled as she watched them. Regardless of her relationship to Bobby, she was glad to see the two of them so happy together. That little spark of joy at seeing another happy queer couple didn’t go away just because one of them was suddenly your half-brother. 

When her dad returned, he started telling stories. Carrie suspected it was an attempt to avoid the awkward silence. But she’d heard most of them before, so she let herself tune him out in favor of breathing in the clean air of the woods and the fruity scent of Flynn’s body wash. Their sweater was soft against her skin, her fingers tracing patterns on Carrie’s shoulder. If her dad wasn’t literally five feet away, Carrie would probably have leaned up and kissed her. Not that her dad was homophobic, but… kissing in front of your dad just felt wrong.

Bobby seemed to have fallen into a similar zoned-out state, poking the fire every so often with a long stick and leaning back to rest his head against Reggie’s knees. One of the bassist’s hands wove slowly through Bobby’s dark hair as the night fell. A few stars appeared in the sky, scattered with the rising sparks from the fire. Trevor finally fell silent, just watching the fire. Carrie was glad. She got wanting to bond with the son you never knew you had, but he’d been laying it on way too heavy, clearly making everyone uncomfortable.

If there was one thing Carrie had learned in the past few years, it was that you couldn’t force relationships to happen. She’d tried it a million times, with Nick, with Julie, with Flynn. She’d tried to make things fit what she wanted without doing the hard work to reach that real place of trust, and it had caused pain for everyone. She’d made her peace with all of them now, counting Nick and Julie as her best friends and stealing kisses with Flynn after shows, but it had taken a long time. Family wasn’t built in a day.

After a while, Bobby softly informed them all that the fire was low enough for roasting marshmallows. Reggie jumped up almost immediately, almost making Bobby fall with how fast he ran to grab the s’more supplies from the table. Carrie’s dad seemed almost as excited, handing out roasting sticks and moving his chair so he could try and make his without having to sit on the ground.

Reggie quickly readied his stick and started toasting his marshmallow, giggling about something with Bobby as he slowly turned the stick. Bobby just smiled and sat down beside him with his own sugary treat.

“Yeah I have no idea how to do this,” Carrie hissed to her girlfriend, watching the boys in confusion.

Flynn laughed, then pulled her to her feet. “I got you, babe,” they promised. “Ray taught me all the tricks.”

Carrie rolled her eyes affectionately and let Flynn stick a marshmallow onto the end of her stick. They settled beside the fire as Flynn showed her how to find the hot spots and keep rotating her rod so the sugar didn’t burn. At one point, she glanced up and caught Bobby’s eye over the hot coals. He smiled. It was a bit awkward, but well… having a civil conversation with Julie was awkward for a while too. She smiled back.

Later, after they’d probably all had too much sugar and Bobby had put out the fire, they brushed their teeth in the dirty, communal bathroom and changed into pajamas. Carrie was glad she’d brought some thicker, fluffy pants to sleep in, because she was starting to shiver by the time they got back to the tent. Reggie had clearly not had the same thought, as he was wearing thin, red flannel pants and curling into Bobby’s side almost immediately when they left the bathrooms.

Her dad flipped on the little space heater in the tent, then crawled into his own sleeping bag.

“Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me seeing,” he muttered sleepily as he slumped down onto his pillow.

Carrie fought the urge to burst out laughing. When she glanced over at the others in the dim light of Reggie’s flashlight, she could see similar expressions of amusement on their faces, though Bobby looked a bit red as well.

“He does realize we’re literally all sex-averse or something, right?” Flynn whispered.

“I haven’t even tried having that conversation with him yet,” Carrie responded wryly. “Can you imagine telling your dad that he didn’t really have to go through the extreme awkwardness of giving you The Talk because you never wanted to do that anyways?”

Everyone laughed and settled into their sleeping bags, Carrie the closest to the entrance with Flynn beside her and Bobby and Reggie near the back. The space heater was in the middle of the space, but it wasn’t really warming it up very quickly. Carrie could hear Reggie shivering after a few minutes, and then a whispered voice.

“Hey, I know camping trips are supposed to be an aesthetic or something, but it’s freezing,” Reggie hissed, probably to Bobby. “Can we please cuddle?”

Carrie heard a low chuckle from Bobby, and then the swishing sounds of the two moving closer together. She couldn’t quite make out their hushed words, but she smiled anyways. Yeah, this was the most awkward (and only) camping trip she’d ever been on, but she was glad they were here.

Well, okay, she wasn’t hugely fond of here here, she could live without the smell of woodsmoke in her hair and the pine needles that kept appearing in literally everything, but it was nice to be out with her dad and Flynn and Reggie and her brother. Stepbrother? Half brother? They could figure that one out later. But for the first time since she’d walked in on her dad giving his laptop a death glare, she felt like they might actually be something, not just blood, but maybe something akin to family.

“You doing okay?” Flynn hummed in the darkness.

“Yeah, I am,” Carrie answered honestly.

“Good, because I’m freezing,” Flynn stated. “Aesthetics are overrated, I want cuddles.”

“You stole that from Reggie,” Carrie accused, giggling.

“You got a problem with it?” Flynn snarked back.

“No,” Carrie chuckled, shifting over and partially unzipping her sleeping bag to wrap her arms around her girlfriend. 

“Good,” Flynn said, curling closer and nuzzling into the crook of Carrie’s neck. “Cause I need some of that hot Wilson body heat right now.”

Carrie smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her partner’s head. “Goodnight, love you.”

“Night, love you too.”

[path-of-my-childhood]

Aaron Dessner on How His Collaborative Chemistry With Taylor Swift Led to “Evermore”

By: Claire Shaffer for Rolling Stone Date: December 18th 2020

Taylor Swift and Aaron Dessner didn’t expect to make another record so soon after Folklore. As they were putting the final touches on Swift’s album this past summer, the two artists had been collaborating remotely on possible songs for Big Red Machine, Dessner’s music project with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver (who also dueted with Swift on the Folklore track “Exile”). Dessner recalls:

“I think I’d written around 30 of those instrumentals in total. So when I started sharing them with Taylor over the months that we were working on Folklore, she got really into it, and she wrote two songs to some of that music.”

One was “Closure,” an experimental electronic track in 5/4 time signature that was built over a staccato drum kit. The other song was “Dorothea,” a rollicking, Americana piano tune. The more Dessner listened to them, the more he realized that they were continuations of Folklore‘s characters and stories. But the real turning point came soon after Folklore‘s surprise release in late July, when Dessner wrote a musical sketch and named it “Westerly,” after the town in Rhode Island where Swift owns the house previously occupied by Rebekah Harkness.

“I didn’t really think she would write something to it — sometimes I’ll name songs after my friends’ hometowns or their babies, just because I write a lot of music and you have to call it something, and then I’ll send it to them. But, anyway, I sent it to her, and not long after she wrote ‘Willow’ to that song and sent it back.”

It was a moment not unlike when Swift first sent him the song “Cardigan” back in the spring, where both she and Dessner felt an instant creative spark — and then just kept writing. Before long, they were creating even more songs with Vernon, Jack Antonoff, Dessner’s brother Bryce, and “William Bowery” (the pseudonym of Swift’s boyfriend Joe Alwyn) for what would eventually lead to Folklore‘s wintry sister record, Evermore.

Even more spontaneous than the album that preceded it, Evermore features more eclectic production alongside Swift’s continued project of character-driven songwriting, and includes an even wider group of collaborators, like Haim and Dessner’s own band the National. Dessner spoke to Rolling Stone about the album’s experimentation, how it was recorded during the making of the doc The Long Pond Studio Sessions, and how he sees his collaboration with Swift continuing in the future.

When did you realize this was going to end up being another album?

It was after we’d written several songs, seven or eight or nine. Each one would happen, and we would both be in this sort of disbelief of this weird alchemy that we had unleashed. The ideas were coming fast and furiously and were just as compelling as anything on Folklore, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. At some point, Taylor wrote “Evermore” with William Bowery, and then we sent it to Justin, who wrote the bridge, and all of a sudden, that’s when it started to become clear that there was a sister record. Historically, there are examples of this, of records which came in close succession that I love — certain Dylan records, Kid A and Amnesiac. I secretly fell in love with the idea that this was part of the same current, and that these were two manifestations that were interrelated. And with Taylor, I think it just became clear to her what was happening. It really picked up steam, and at some point, there were 17 songs — because there are two bonus tracks, which I love just as much.

Evermore definitely sounds more experimental than Folklore, and has more variety — you have these electronic songs that sound like Bon Iver or Big Red Machine, but you also have the closest thing Taylor has written to country songs in the last decade. Was there a conscious effort on her part to branch out more with this album?

Sonically, the ideas were coming from me more. But I remember when I wrote the piano track to “Tolerate It,” right before I sent it to her, I thought, This song is intense. It’s in 10/8, which is an odd time signature. And I did think for a second, “Maybe I shouldn’t send it to her, she won’t be into it.” But I sent it to her, and it conjured a scene in her mind, and she wrote this crushingly beautiful song to it and sent it back. I think I cried when I first heard it. But it just felt like the most natural thing, you know? There weren’t limitations to the process. And in these places where we were pushing into more experimental sounds or odd time signatures, that just felt like part of the work.

It was really impressive to me that she could tell these stories as easily in something like “Closure” as she could in a country song like “Cowboy Like Me.” Obviously, “Cowboy Like Me” is much more familiar, musically. But to me, she’s just as sharp and just as masterful in her craft in either of those situations. And also, just in terms of what we were interested in, there is a wintry nostalgia to a lot of the music that was intentional on my part. I was leaning into the idea that this was fall and winter, and she’s talked about that as well, that Folklore feels like spring and summer to her and Evermore is fall and winter. So that’s why you hear sleigh bells on “Ivy,” or why some of the imagery in the songs is wintery.

I can hear that in the guitar on “‘Tis the Damn Season,” too. It almost sounds like the National with that very icy guitar line.

I mean, that is literally like, me in my most natural state. [laughs] If you hand me a guitar, that’s what it sounds like when I start playing it. People associate that sound with the National, but that’s just because I finger-pick an electric guitar like that a lot — if you solo the guitar on “Mr. November,” it’s not unlike that.

That song, to me, has always felt nostalgic or like some sort of longing. And the song that Taylor wrote is so instantly relatable, you know, “There’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me.” I remember when she sang that to me in my kitchen — she had written it overnight during The Long Pond Studio Sessions, actually.

Did she record all her Evermore vocals at Long Pond while you were filming the Studio Sessions documentary?

Not all of them, but most of them. She stayed after we were done filming and then we recorded a lot. It was crazy because we were getting ready to make that film, but at the same time, these songs were accumulating. And so we thought, “Hmm, I guess we should just stay and work.”

On “Closure,” there are parts where Taylor’s vocals are filtered through the Messina, which is this vocal modifier that Justin Vernon uses a lot in his work with Bon Iver. How were you able to modify her vocals with it, if she was never in the same room as Justin?

I went to see Justin at one point — that’s the one trip I’ve made — and we worked together at his place on stuff. He plays the drums on “Cowboy Like Me” and “Closure,” and he plays guitar and banjo and sings on “Ivy,” and sings on “Marjorie” and “Evermore.” And then we processed Taylor’s vocals through his Messina chain together. He was really deeply involved in this record, even more so than the last record. He’s always been such a huge help to me, and not just by getting him to play stuff or sing stuff — I can also send him things and get his feedback. We’ve done a ton of work together, but we have different perspectives and different harmonic brains. He obviously has his own studio set up at home, but it was nice to be able to see him and work on this stuff.

“No Body, No Crime” is also really interesting, just because I don’t think I’ve ever heard you produce a song like that. How did this country murder ballad featuring Haim end up on the record?

Taylor wrote that one alone and sent me a voice memo of her playing guitar — she wrote it on this rubber-bridge guitar that I got for her. It’s the same kind I play on “Invisible String.” So she wrote “No Body, No Crime” and sent me a voice memo of it, and then I started building on that. It’s funny, because the music I’ve listened to the most in my life are things that are more like that — roots music, folk music, country music, old-school rock & roll, the Grateful Dead. It’s not really the sound of the National or other things I’ve done, but it feels like a warm blanket.

That song also had a lot of my friends on it — Josh Kaufman, who played harmonica on “Betty,” also plays harmonica on this one and some guitar. JT Bates plays the drums on that song — he’s an amazing jazz guitarist, but he also has an incredible feel [for rhythm] when it comes to a song like that. He also played the drums on “Dorothea.” And then Taylor had specific ideas from the beginning about references and how she wanted it to feel, and that she wanted the Haim sisters to sing on it. We had them record the song with Ariel Reichshaid, they sent that from L.A., and then we put it together when Taylor was here [at Long Pond]. They’re an incredible band, and it was another situation where we were like, “Well, this happened.” It felt like this weird little rock & roll history anecdote.

You also brought on the National to record “Coney Island.” What was that process like, where you’re recording a song with your band that’s for a different artist?

I had been working on a bunch of music with my brother [Bryce Dessner], some of which we were sending to Taylor also. At that stage, “Coney Island” was all the music except the drums. And as I was writing it, I don’t think I was ever thinking, “This sounds like the National or this sounds like Big Red Machine or this sounds like something totally different.” But Taylor and William Bowery wrote this incredible song, and we first recorded it with just her vocals. It has this really beautiful arc to the story, and I think it’s one of the strongest, lyrically and musically. But listening to the words, we all collectively realized that this does feel like the most related to the National — it almost feels like a story Matt [Berninger] might tell, or I could hear Bryan [Devendorf] playing the drum part.

So we started talking about how it would be cool to get the band, and I called Matt and he was excited for it. We got Bryan to play drums and we got Scott [Devendorf] to play bass and a pocket piano, and Bryce helped produce it. It’s weird, because it does really feel like Taylor, obviously, since she and William Bowery wrote all the words, but it also feels like a National song in a good way. I love how Matt and Taylor sound together. And it was nice because we haven’t played a show in a year, and I don’t know when we will again. You kind of lose track of each other, so in a way, it was nice to reconnect.

When working on Folklore, you had to keep most of your collaborators in the dark about who you were working with. What was the process like this time around, now that everyone knew it was Taylor? How did you keep it a secret?

It was hard. We had to be secretive because of how much people are consuming every shred of information they can find about her, and that’s been an oppressive reality she’s had to deal with. But the fact that no one in the public knew allowed for more freedom of enjoying the process. A lot of the same musicians that played on Folklore played on Evermore. Again, it was a situation where I didn’t tell them what it was, and they couldn’t hear her vocals, but I think a lot of them assumed, especially because of the level of secrecy. [laughs] But as funny as this is, I think everyone who’s been involved has been grateful for these records to play on this year and is proud of them. It kind of just doesn’t happen, to make two great records in such a short period of time. Everyone’s a little bit like, “How did this happen?” and nobody takes it for granted.

Taylor has mentioned that you recorded “Happiness” just a week before the album was released. Was that something you guys wrote, recorded, and produced all at the last minute, or was it something you’d been sitting on for a while before you finally cracked the code?

There were two songs like that. One is a bonus track called “Right Where You Left Me,” and the other one was “Happiness,” which she wrote literally days before we were supposed to master. That’s similar to what happened with Folklore, with “The 1” and “Hoax,” which she wrote days before. We mixed all the tracks here, and it’s a lot to mix 17 songs, it’s like a Herculean task. And it was funny, because I walked into the studio and Jon Low, our engineer here, was mixing and had been working the whole time toward this. And I came in and he’s in the middle of mixing and I was like, “There are two more songs.” And he looked at me like, “…We’re not gonna make it.” Because it does take a lot of time to work out how to finish them.

But she sang those remotely. And the music for “Happiness” is something that I had been working on since last year. I had sang a little bit on it, too — I thought it was a Big Red Machine song, but then she loved the instrumental and ended up writing to it. Same with the other one, “Right Where You Left Me” — it was something I had written right before I went to visit Justin, because I thought, “Maybe we’ll make something when we’re together there.” And Taylor had heard that and wrote this amazing song to it. That is a little bit how she works — she writes a lot of songs, and then at the very end she sometimes writes one or two more, and they often are important ones.

My favorite song on the album is “Marjorie,” and I feel like, for most artists, the instinct would be to present a song like that as a somber piano ballad. But “Marjorie” has this lively electronic beat that runs through it — it literally sounds alive. How did you come up with that?

It’s interesting, because with “Marjorie,” that’s a track that actually existed for a while, and you can hear elements of it behind the song “Peace.” This weird drone that you hear on “Peace,” if you pay attention to the bridge of “Marjorie,” you’ll hear a little bit of that in the distance. Some of what you hear is from my friend Jason Treuting playing percussion, playing these chord sticks, that he actually made for a piece that my brother wrote called “Music for Wooden Strings.” They’re playing these chord sticks, and you can hear those same chord sticks on the National song “Quiet Light.”

I collect a lot of rhythmic elements like that, and all kinds of other sounds, and I give them to my friend Ryan Olson, who’s a producer from Minnesota and has been developing this crazy software called Allovers Hi-Hat Generator. It can take sounds, any sounds, and split them into identifiable sound samples, and then regenerate them in randomized patterns that are weirdly very musical. There’s a lot of new Big Red Machine songs that use those elements. But I’ll go through it and find little parts that I like and loop them. That’s how I made the backing rhythm of “Marjorie.” Then I wrote a song to it, and Taylor wrote to that. In a weird way, it’s one of the most experimental songs on the album — it doesn’t sound that way, but when you pick apart the layers underneath it, it’s pretty interesting.

I do have to ask: How did you come to find out about William Bowery’s real identity as Joe Alwyn? Or did you know all along?

I guess I can say now that I’ve sort of known all along — I was just being careful. Although we never really explicitly talked about it. But I do think it’s been really special to see a number of songs on these albums that they wrote together. William plays the piano on “Evermore,” actually. We recorded that remotely. That was really important to me and to them, to do that, because he also wrote the piano part of “Exile,” but on the record, it’s me playing it because we couldn’t record him easily. But this time, we could. I just think it’s an important and special part of the story.

Do you have a personal favorite song or a moment that you’re proudest of?

“‘Tis the Damn Season” is a really special song to me for a number of reasons. When I wrote the music to it, which was a long time ago, I remember thinking that this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever made, even though it’s an incredibly simple musical sketch. But it has this arc to it, and there’s this simplicity in the minimalism of it and the kind of drum programming in there, and I always loved the tone of that guitar. When Taylor played the track and sang it to me in my kitchen, that was a highlight of this whole time. That track felt like something I have always loved and could have just stayed music, but instead, someone of her incredible storytelling ability and musical ability took it and made something much greater. And it’s something that we can all relate to. It was a really special moment, not unlike how it felt when she wrote “Peace,” but even more so.

Do you see this collaboration with Taylor continuing onward, to more albums or Big Red Machine projects?

It’s kind of the thing where I have so many musicians in my life that I’ve grown close to, and make things with, and are just part of my life. And I’ve rarely had this kind of chemistry with anyone in my life — to be able to write together, to make so many beautiful songs together in such a short period of time. Inevitably, I think we will continue to be in each other’s artistic and personal lives. I don’t know exactly what the next form that will take, but certainly, it will continue.

I do think this story, this era, has concluded, and I think in such a beautiful way with these sister records — it does kind of feel like there’s closure to that. But she’s definitely been very helpful and engaged with Big Red Machine, and just in general. She feels like another incredible musician that I’ve gotten to know and am lucky to have in my life. It’s this whole community that moves forward and takes risks and, hopefully, there will be other records that appear in the future.

[svtkillua]

little lion man > 1

rating: [pg-13 / angst] pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader x todoroki shouto warnings: cursing, lots of yummy angst >:)) word count: 6.8k

listen while you read here!

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ch.1 + ch.2 + ch.3 + ch.4 (final) + alt. ending

The rain fell just loud enough for you to hear, the skies a beautiful but somber grey and the world feeling otherwise silent. The birds weren’t chirping. The neighborhood seemed empty. It was just you. You and your empty apartment and your thoughts. The all consuming thoughts that made the silence seem so loud. His voice just kept replaying in your head, like the soundtrack to the otherwise quiet moment.

“I think she’s the one.”

Time alone with him was like a cruel trick. For those hours you could slip out of your mind and focus only on him and you and on how incredible it felt to pretend that Bakugou Katsuki loved you. It felt like a dream to be in his presence, it always had. He wasn’t just a hero to you but so much more. From the moment you’d met you could feel it, that pull to him every time he’d smile or laugh far too loud. He knew just how to get you to give into his crazy ideas and antics and as much as you pretended you hated it, you loved it. You craved it. You craved him.

Loving him was the biggest mistake you had made. Falling for someone who had no such feelings for you was bad enough, but it being your best friend was about a hundred times worse. The sting when he’d talk about others left a constant acrid taste in your mouth and there was no escaping it. You loved him too much to let him go, even if it meant feeling dejected and harboring the emotions in silence. You couldn’t just give him up, in love with him or not, you were his best friend and he was yours.

When he had met her, everything felt like it took a great shift, not with him, but with you. The bitterness had grown more constant in your chest. You had manifested a disdain for yourself the more you heard about her. If you were pretty than she was beautiful. If you were a quiet song than she was a boastful ballad. If you were a starry night than she was a brilliant sunrise. You weren’t undesirable, but she was more. You were the sarcastic comments and loud laughter that earned his friendship, while she was the beautiful smile and soft voice that earned his heart.

They’d been dating about a year and despite his constant touring and packed schedule, you could see him falling in love with her more each passing day. His every waking thought and moment was spent wanting her, thinking of her, missing her. You could see it in his eyes because you saw it in your own, that all consuming love that left you feeling breathless. The only difference was that she loved him as well and supplied him with the oxygen, while you were left feeling like your lungs were being ripped out.

You’d somehow managed to always have an excuse so you wouldn’t have to meet her. She had met the rest of the boys several times and lately Bakugou had been more persistent about you getting to.  It wasn’t that you thought you’d dislike her, it was that you knew you probably wouldn’t, and somehow that made it all so much worse. If she was worthy of Bakugou’s attention than she was surely just as incredible as he was, with a shine so bright it was nearly blinding when you stared too long.

You’d spent your time practicing playing your piano, which was far too large and taking up too much room in your small apartment. It was your passion and your outlet the nights the hollow feeling in your chest was just a bit too much. Composing was your dream and while he was supportive he didn’t have any idea that he was such an inspiration to the love songs.

It wasn’t like you were depressed or wanted to disappear, if anything you just wanted your emotions to go away for a while. You needed a reset so you could go back to being oblivious to the feelings you felt. You wanted to be blissfully ignorant to how his touches and words could make you feel, but you weren’t exactly sure how to get there. You couldn’t deny you loved him romantically at this point, it was useless. You loved him down to your very bones.

One late night phone call when he’d been practically begging you to meet her after his full-day shift finished, you’d been rattling off every possible lame excuse you could come up with. It wasn’t until he quietly uttered those five short words that your excuses stopped flowing.

“I think she’s the one.”

It had been the only reason you’d given in, and the exact reason they were coming over for dinner tonight. It’d be the first time you’d seen him since his last small break from work abroad two months ago, and while you were excited to see him, the idea of finally meeting her in person made you a bit queasy. You could only hope it would do some good. Maybe seeing him so in love with someone else in person would be the wake-up call you so desperately needed to jump start moving on.

The quiet ding of the oven ripped your attention away from the rain dripping down the window, your head whipping around and your lips parting to let out a sigh. You couldn’t let your emotions getting the best of you tonight, the last thing you needed was to come across as a completely jealous bitch. Your body moved easily throughout your apartment to the kitchen, turning off the beeping oven and pulling out the cookies you’d made for later, Bakugou’s favorite.

Your apartment wasn’t huge, but far big enough for yourself, just big enough to be roomy but small enough to be cozy. The far wall of the small dining area was lined with photos. As you set the table, your eyes wandered them, a smile spreading on your lips. Some were small and some were large. Some were sentimental and some were goofy but they all made your heart swell. Your personal favorite was a photo of Bakugou and Tokoyami wearing these ridiculous face masks you’d forced them to try a couple months back. Thinking of it always made you smile.

The place had so many memories of late nights with all the guys piled in watching movies. You’d had your fair share of sleepovers and little parties. You’d written a few songs on the piano here with Kaminari which never saw the light of day. You even had a small dent in the back wall of the kitchen from where Bakugou stumbled into it one night he had too much to drink. He proceeded to sit on the floor and chant apologies for a solid hour afterwards. The walls were practically oozing with memories that made your heart do a little hum.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket made you jump a bit, silently cursing yourself for being so lost in thought. With a quick tug, it was pulled from your pocket, the screen lighting up with a text.

Kaminari [19:57] :

We’re pulling up now, see you in a few!

You quickly moved away from the set table, moving to your bedroom and dropping your phone onto the mattress with a dull thud. The reflection of yourself from the mirror in your closet caught your attention, feet moving towards it without much thought. A simple black sweater and dark skinny jeans seemed to fit the dull weather well, hair flowing down over your shoulders and feet clad in a stupid pair of socks Kaminari had sent you a few months back. You were silently thankful it wouldn’t just be you and the happy couple tonight, Kaminari and Todoroki were coming as well.

With soft click of your bedroom door you exited the room, feet quietly padding across the hardwood floors to the front door just as the doorbell rang. You paused for a moment just outside it, hearing the muffled voices on the other side laughing. Just hearing his faint giggling made your stomach do a small involuntary twist. You took one long, deep breathe, before twisting the knob and opening the heavy wooden door. It was now or never.

“Finally!” Kaminari huffed, rushing inside and nearly knocking you over in a tight hug, a laugh leaving your lips as you wrapped your arms around the towering boy. “I thought you were going to leave us out there forever.”

“Kaminari. I answered the door after like, two seconds.” You snorted, patting his cheeks as he smiled cheekily down at you. Once his arms moved off you, Todoroki swooped in for his hug, his arms feeling much stronger around your middle than Kaminari’s had.

“It’s good to see you.” He whispered and smiled softly as he leaned back some, grip still around you as his eyes peered over your figure, as if checking to make sure I hadn’t changed too much. His body was warm against yours and the gentle smile on your face made your nerves simmer down a bit. “You look beautiful, besides those socks.” He chuckled, making Kaminari whine loudly.

“I got her those! They’re cute, thank you very much.” He scoffed, flicking Todoroki’s cheek, earning him a hard pinch in the side.

Kaminari made a yelp and slid an arm around your shoulders, trying to playfully tug you away from Todoroki and instead into his chest, Todoroki just narrowing his eyes at the towering boy.

“Will you two stop hogging her?”

Bakugou’s voice made all focus on the other boys banter slip away, your breathing momentarily stopping as your eyes finally landed on the blonde haired boy. The grin that spread on his lips as he rushed to you made your heart’s tempo double, his arms surrounding you in an instant. Your eyes felt heavy, fluttering shut as you squeezed him tightly, his nose burying against your shoulder as he rocked your bodies side to side.

“I missed you so much.” He whispered into your shirt, making a smile tug up on your face and your hands hold him just a bit stronger. His own hands spread against your back, moving gently up and down in soothing motions. Being in his arms again felt so relaxing, and to you it felt so, so right.

For a moment it felt like just the two of you. Just you and your Bakugou, with his arms holding you and his smell making you feel intoxicated. Your body was molded against his, a soft exhale falling past your lips. Your back arched some so you pressed into him, his own body leaning forward some over you as he nuzzled against your shoulder. He took a deep breathe into your skin, fingertips pressing into your back, as if trying to pull you in closer to him.

“I missed you too, Katsu.” You murmured, eyes opening and focusing on the gorgeous girl standing behind him by the door. Reality felt like a slap to the face, a hard one that would leave an angry red mark across your features. You felt a bit sick to your stomach, grip loosening around him in an instant as you began pulling away, despite the slight grip he seemed to try and hold on you. You tried hard not to let your smile falter when you involuntarily let him go before speaking, “Are you going to introduce me?”

The moment the words left your lips he seemed to fly off you, hastily moving to stand beside her. She was gorgeous, a smile on her face and her eyelashes fluttering as she looked over at his profile. They looked incredible together, his arm easily slinking around her midsection and her face heating up when he pressed a small kiss to her cheek before speaking.

“This is my stunning, brilliant, oh-so-amazing girlfriend, Camie.”

The way his voice lifted and his eyes shined was so very Bakugou. He looked so proud to be hers, his eyes glued onto her face as she waved at you shyly. You vaguely waved back but all you could feel was the sinking in your chest as she moved closer and gave you a small, friendly, hug. Part of you had been hoping she’d be an awful person so you’d have every right to dislike her, but it was clear she wasn’t.

“It’s so great to finally meet you. Katsu talks about you all the time.” Camie giggled, letting you go and moving to stand back beside a blushing Bakugou.

“Babe! Don’t call me that in front of them.” He clicked his tongue at hearing the pet name, fingers moving up to tickle her sides, making her gorgeous laughter float through the air. It seemed fitting her laugh would sound so melodic, he loved making people laugh, it was only fair his girlfriend would have the most beautiful sounding one.

“Let’s sit, everything’s ready.” You said, forcing the most believable smile you had as you moved away from the door towards the dining table. They removed their shoes and coats in a blur of motion, everyone piling around the small table. You found yourself sandwiched between Kaminari and Todoroki, both boys piling food onto their plates while Bakugou pulled out Camie’s chair for her. He sent you a sly wink once he was seated and your smile relaxed into a somewhat more natural one.

“This looks great, have you suddenly become a good cook while I was gone?” He quipped, you sending a playful glare in his direction.

“Excuse you, I’ve always been an amazing cook, you just don’t appreciate my talents. Besides, you have no room to talk, Mr. I can’t cook an egg.”

Kaminari snorted and smacked the table at your comeback, always one for dramatic reactions. Camie giggled at his enthusiasm, patting Bakugou’s hand that rested on the table as she spoke.

“She has a good point.”

He muttered something under his breath about her not coming to his defense, which only seemed to make Kaminari laugh louder, his whole body quaking as he draped an arm around the back of your chair, using his other hand to push a bite into his mouth. Bakugou’s attention moved back over to Camie, his snarl only getting more prominent when she giggled loudly.

As everyone started settling into their meals your eyes flickered back over at the couple, seeing how Camie leaned in quickly and pressed a small kiss to his slightly pout lips when she thought no one was looking. The smile that took over his face was the most beautiful and heart breaking thing you’d ever seen, all at the same time. He looked so indescribably happy just being near her and you felt horrible for hating it. He was your best friend, you should want him to be happy even if it wasn’t with you.

You had been the one that made the mistake of falling in love with him, it wasn’t his fault for falling in love with someone other than you. You had given him your everything without making sure he wanted it and that was something you could only blame yourself for. Even without ever really having him be yours, you were his. You didn’t plan  to be, but you were his, and you weren’t sure you’d ever not be.

He wasn’t just some guy you barely knew, he was Bakugou. Bakugou that would sit and watch you play piano for hours with a wistful smile on his face. Bakugou that would call you late at night and hum quiet songs to you til you fell asleep. Bakugou that punched your ex in the face for making you cry. Bakugou that had cried and cried when you both got in a huge fight over something stupid and begged your forgiveness a mere hour later. The same Bakugou you couldn’t help but sometimes resent for loving someone else, you loved with all your heart and soul. Not just romantically, but in every possible manner you could love someone.

Dinner passed with lots of chatter, you found yourself barely paying attention to conversation as the boys reminisced about touring and asked the occasional question, to which you’d give small but good enough responses. Bakugou’s chair had moved closer and closer to Camie’s the entire time, his hand eventually wrapping in hers on the table top, which you had noted, made her blush the prettiest damn shade of pink.

You all moved into the living room after debating over who would do the dishes, Todoroki eventually grabbing them all and marching off to do them, ignoring your complaints. The living room was on the smaller size, filled with a plush chair and two seat sofa, a coffee table, a tv and your huge piano, which took up most of the space in the room. Windows lined the back wall by the piano, overlooking the streets below.

You made it into the room last, Kaminari taking up the chair, Bakugou and Camie sharing the small sofa. Bakugou’s eyes focused on you and he smiled, trying to scoot over some but nearly squashing tiny Camie in the process. She didn’t make a peep, but you could see her squirming a bit uncomfortably.

“Sit by me!” He pouted, patting the tiny spot of sofa on his right side but you only shook your head, walking past him to sit down on your piano bench.

“Katsu, you’re gonna hurt her. It’s a small couch.” You chuckled half heartedly, sitting on the wooden surface with your back to the keys, arms folding lazily over your chest. His eyes shifted from yours, to Camie, then back to yours again when he scooted so she’d have enough room. His arm rose and wrapped around her shoulders as he blushed a tad but his eyes stayed focused on you.

“Mean.” He huffed. You easily rolled your eyes and looked away, Kaminari snickering a bit at you both. Camie’s head fell onto Bakugou’s shoulder as he rubbed his palm back and forth over her shoulder blade, your eyes staring at the interaction.

It was an odd feeling really, seeing in person the girl who had everything you seemingly didn’t. She was smart and seemed to keep up with Bakugou’s constant outbursts. Bakugou had been boasting all dinner about how sweet she was, something that made her turn the color of a tomato. Somewhere thought out dinner she had mentioned that she was studying to be a doctor, but also loved to dance in her free time. That’s how they had met, outside of her dance studio while he was patrolling the city. You could remember the day, Bakugou had been texting you all night about the cute girl he’d met.

She was undeniably beautiful, with long light colored hair swept half up and half down, side-swept bangs making it breathe a look of innocence. Her light colored dress and white sweater was a stark contrast to your all black ensemble. She was small and relatively thin, her fingernails painted a delicate pink, the same color her cheeks had turned when she blushed earlier. She seemed genuinely kind, not at all like the books and movies where the other woman was heartless and undeserving for the man’s love. She seemed perfect for Bakugou, and that thought made your heart twist uncomfortably in your chest.

“Dishes are all done.” Todoroki announced quietly as he came in after a few minutes, sitting beside you on the miniscule bench. He patted your knee, making you chuckle a bit and nod your head. You could vaguely see Bakugou’s eyes on the pair of you but paid it no attention, pressing a small kiss to Todoroki’s plush cheek.

“Thanks Sho. Though, I wish you would have just let me do them myself. You’re the guest.” You smiled, lifting a hand up to run your fingers through your hair, pushing some behind your ear so it’d stop falling in your face.

“Yes, but you cooked.” He argued, folding his muscular arms over his chest and trying to wink at you, failing and pretty much just blinking, which made you laugh and shake your head. His smile spread across his lips as he shook his head back at you, Bakugou clearing his throat a bit.

“Let’s watch a movie.”  

A few clicks of the remote later and some cheesy romantic flick was playing on screen, the sound paired with the slow rain still drizzling down outside. Camie was totally engrossed in the film, as Kaminari and Todoroki seemed to be, though Todoroki kept letting out unimpressed yawns. The lighting had grown dim from the setting sun but no one moved to turn the lights on, instead opting to just focus on the glowing screen.

Romantic movies never did much for you, however, so your focus was elsewhere, namely, on Bakugou, who kept catching your eye and making stupid faces in your direction. It made your heart flutter in the way only Bakugou could with such a stupid action. A soft laugh fell past your lips when he stuck his tongue out at you, a grin spreading on his face when your quiet laughter met his ears.

You took the opportunity to make a stupid face back, crossing your eyes and puffing out your cheeks like a fish. His laugh was so loud and sudden it made Kaminari jump, nearly falling off his chair, which resorted in your own laughter. Bakugou smiled sheepishly and reached over to pat his knee, mumbling a sorry for scaring him.

You could feel eyes on you and glanced over, Camie’s eyes catching yours, though she quickly looked away back to the screen. For a moment, you had almost forgotten she was here, you’d only been focusing on Bakugou. She had a small pink tone on her cheeks, perhaps from you catching her stare, but she didn’t give much of a reaction otherwise. Her hand clasped around Bakugou’s free one, before she lifted it up and kissed the back of it, a small but affectionate action.

You looked away, eyes locking onto the screen and focusing on the emotions there rather than the ones spreading in your chest. It was stupid to be jealous over such a simple action as holding hands, but you were. You were envious and you knew it, because you wanted to have those simple affections and touches with Bakugou, and you didn’t. She did, and she clearly treasured them, judging by how she kept doing it subtly all night when she thought no one was looking. She seemed a bit shy, yes, but clearly she wasn’t as shy with her sentiments for him.

You quietly got up when some love profession was happening on screen, feeling Bakugou’s eyes on you as you mumbled something about getting a drink and slipped from the room. In the safety of the kitchen, you let out a quiet puff of air you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You felt dejected, like finally meeting her just put the last check mark of the boxes it took to break your ever shrinking confidence.

The tea kettle made a tiny clink when you set it on the stove top, flicking on the burner and staring at the small flames as they danced upwards. Your body turned to look out the window, hands reaching behind you to rest on the off white countertop. The rain had slowed, but the windows had fogged up some with condensation, little beads of the sweat rolling down the panes at half speed. The rain definitely wasn’t helping your dreary mood, your knuckles turning a bit white from how tightly you gripped the counter.

“You okay?”

Bakugou’s voice startled you, your body lurching upwards some, making him smile as he slipped inside the previously quiet kitchen. The movie could be faintly heard in the other room, along with the boys quiet commentary and Camie’s laughter. His eyes focused on your face as he came closer, leaning against the counter opposite you, his arms draping across his chest in a lazy motion.

“Yeah. I just hate those movies, you know that.” You chuckled half heartedly, averting your eyes from his face to the tea kettle. “Thought I’d make myself a drink and escape having to watch any more of it.”

He hummed, bobbing his head up and down in a small nod while standing his body up straight, his hands shoving into the pockets of his tight black jeans. You caught the smile spreading on his lips when he noticed the plate of his favorite cookies on the counter.

“Right, I almost forgot you’re a love hater.” The teasing was obvious in his tone, but the irony of his words made your laugh taste sour on your tongue.

“I’m not a love hater, Bakugou. I’m a cheesy movie hater, as everyone should be.” You quipped, sticking your tongue out at him before turning around to turn off the kettle which had started to let out a quiet whistle.

“Well, I somewhat enjoy them.”

“Of course you do.” You chuckled, hearing his far too dramatic gasp from behind you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I have great taste!” He argued, the internal pout evident in his tone.

“You do not. The last movie night we had, you chose that awful action movie, remember? I still can’t believe you liked it.” You laughed, easily falling into your usual rhythm with him. Bakugou made it so simple to feel so comfortable. One minute you were contemplative and gloomy and the next he could have you laughing and smiling so hard your cheeks would grow sore.

“It wasn’t that bad!” He argued, but you could hear the laughter in his tone nonetheless, making it obvious he knew he was wrong. “Can I have a cup too?”

You nodded, grabbing his usual mug from your cupboard and pouring you both some of the hot drink. You turned back towards him, holding the mug out, which he took with an appreciative nod of his head, followed by a beat of silence as you both took a few sips.

His eyes wandered around the room while yours flickered over his face, taking in every curve and dip of his features. His jaw tensed a bit when he took too big of a gulp from his cup, his knuckles tightening their grip on the pastel yellow mug when he swallowed. His upper half was covered in a simple long sleeve white shirt, but he somehow made it look expensive. His hair was a lighter shade of blonde than when you’d last seen him, you noted, eyes wavering back down to his face. You were a bit surprised when you noticed he was now staring back at you.

“You got a haircut.” He said with a funny look on his face you couldn’t pinpoint, hand lifting up to tug lightly on the ends of your hair. You nodded without responding, his hand lifting up more to push the hair back behind your ear, fingers brushing along your cheek in the process. “It looks great, very mature. You’re growing up too fast on me.”

You laughed softly and swatted his hand away, a small smile on your face as you patted his chest. You silently noted how firm it felt under your palm. It was kinda unfair honestly, his physique was about as perfect as his personality, which was saying something.

“You’re being a tad dramatic, it’s a haircut. Besides, you cut yours almost every month.” You chuckled, lifting your cup towards your lips to take a small sip of the tea still left in the mug.

A moment passed where he nibbled on his bottom lip, your eyes shifting and watching the movement over the cusp of your mug. He seemed a bit nervous as he opened his mouth once to speak, closed it, then opened it again.

“So, do you like her?”

It wasn’t a hard question but you could tell from his tone it was loaded. He wanted you to like her, that much was obvious. She was his girlfriend and you were his best friend, it made sense your opinion meant something to him. His eyes darted from yours the doorway and back before he spoke again.

“Be honest with me, please.”

“She seems great Katsu. She seems to make you really happy, so I’m happy for you.”

It wasn’t a lie, mostly, she did seem genuinely kind and lovely. She’d been nothing but nice to you all night, despite her bouts of shyness. It was so clear why Bakugou was so smitten with her, she was like a softer, more reserved, version of him. You were happy for him, yes, mostly anyway. Seeing Bakugou happy made you happy, but knowing it wasn’t because of you did feel like a bit of a blow to your chest.

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes casting down to his hands, which had found their way to his front, thumbs twiddling together. It was a habit he only seemed to do when he was contemplating something. You were about to ask what exactly he was thinking, when he blurted it out himself.

“I think I’m gonna ask her to marry me.”

The words felt like the final shove to push you over the edge, your entire body going numb as the syllables registered in your brain. Thinking about him with her had hurt, but realizing it was going to be forever was indescribably painful. You’d never have him, he would never be yours and any sliver of a chance you ever had was gone.

Forever.

“It’s why I’ve been wanting you to meet her so bad. I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I knew I couldn’t without you meeting her first…” His explanation barely met your ears, your head moving robotically in a nod as you stared behind him at the window. The condensation was still rolling down it, the sky dark behind the glass. “I know it’s fast but I’m so crazy about her, she’s so amazing, way too good for me and I just can’t imagine being with anyone else and being so happy.”

You knew you should be smiling or at least speaking, but the muscles in your face refused to move. Your mind was going a mile a minute but also not seeming to form any coherent thoughts. You could vaguely feel his body come closer, his presence feeling suddenly suffocating in the small space. His rambling had trailed off as his fingers wrapped around your limp hand. Your eyes finally met his, which were filled with what looked like a bit of panic.

“Please say something.” He said softly, giving your hand a firm squeeze, eyes boring into yours.

You swallowed down the hard rock forming in your throat and got a small smile to spread on your lips, your hand loosely giving his a squeeze back. You had to seem fine. You couldn’t let on that his words had shattered you. He couldn’t know that you loved him the way he loved her, he never could.

“Congratulations Katsu, I’m happy for you.” You said mutely, eyes burning and mouth growing dry. Never before had you wanted him to leave so badly. All you wanted was to curl up on your sofa and be left alone to wallow in self pity and hatred. The kitchen felt too compact with him so close to you and observing your every movement. You couldn’t show how heart broken you felt. You could deal with the crushing emotions swallowing you whole later, for now you had to be the supportive best friend.

“You don’t look happy.” He said, it just barely audible as he stared down at you, the look of panic replaced with concern, and it was growing by the second.

You quickly shook your head, willing your smile to double in size as you pulled his body into yours, hugging him tightly. You buried your face into his shoulder, vision growing a bit blurry when his arms encased you and held you close as he could.

“I am happy.” You lied easily without having to see his face, your grip on him growing stronger as you clamped your eyes shut to stop the stinging. “You’re going to make each other so happy, why wouldn’t I be ecstatic for you? I was just a bit surprised that’s all, like you said, it’s sorta fast.”  

The lies came out one after the other, you just hoped they were more convincing out loud than they were in your head. A quiet laugh left your lips and you shook your head some, despite it being tucked against his neck. Your mouth kept moving even though your thoughts were jumbled and messy.

“You’re gonna be such a good husband, you’ll take such good care of eachother. You can’t cook so she’ll have to do that. I’ll even teach her to make those cookies you love. I’d teach you but you’d probably just burn yourself, though she’s going to be a doctor so she could probably handle that huh?”

You knew you were rambling too much to sound normal, and judging by how his hands rubbed over the expanse of your back, you knew he could tell something was up. Your brain was screaming for you to just shut up. Maybe you could play it of as over excitement, or just some form of extreme surprise. His head shook when you started to pull away some, his hold not letting up as he kept you pinned there, between his body and the counter.

“She doesn’t need to know how to make them, you can make me them.” He said, eyes glued to your face as he tried to gauge whatever was going through your head. It was like he was looking for something but had no idea where it was. He knew you well enough to know when something was wrong but this time he couldn’t figure out what. “Why do you seem so…not you?”

You tried once again to pull from his grasp but he was too strong, and seemed completely unphased by your squirming. He needed answers and you needed to get away from him. It felt like no oxygen was getting to your brain and the longer he stared at you the more your panic started to expand. You couldn’t think of any good excuses for your reaction and the longer you stood there in his line of sight, the harder it was becoming to keep the emotions from overflowing.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

Kaminari's voice made Bakugou jump, his surprise giving you a chance to push him away enough for you to move aside. Kaminari’s eyes moved between the two of you, before settling on Bakugou. You could see the confusion on his features from your previous proximity, but he didn’t push it.

“Camie keeps dozing off and we have work in the morning, so we should probably get going.” He said with a small smile in your direction and you silently thanked the universe for cutting you a break. “Sorry, I wish we could stay later.”

“Just give us a moment first.” Bakugou said, a slight edge to his voice you could exactly pinpoint. He was frustrated. Whether it was because you wouldn’t tell him what was up or that he couldn’t figure it out on his own, you weren’t sure.

“Baby?” Camie’s voice caught his attention, however,  as she shuffled up behind Kaminari, her hand raising to cover her mouth as she let out a quiet yawn. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, we were just talking.” Bakugou said, a small smile on his lips though you could tell it was a bit forced. He didn’t want to worry her, clearly. You would have found it sweet if you didn’t feel like you wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.

You hadn’t seen this coming and maybe that was why it was so hard for you to play it off like you’d become so good at doing. You were good at covering up your feelings, you’d been doing it for so long but this? This had completely thrown you off, to the point where even you knew you were acting odd, not that you could really help it.

“You guys should get going. I have rehearsal for the gala in the morning.” You blurted, smiling and keeping your eyes on Kaminari and Camie, rather than on Bakugou, whose eyes were burning holes into the side of your head. Clearly, he didn’t want your little conversation to be over just yet, but you needed it to be.

You quickly moved over and hooked arms with Kaminari, letting him drag you from the room towards the front door, thankful for him unknowingly saving you from blurting everything out to Bakugou. You could make some excuse up for your reaction later and figure out how to put on the face of the happy for him best friend again. For now, you needed to be alone, from everyone. After Kaminari and Todoroki showered you with compliments over the meal, they gave you an ample amount of hugs, taking turns. Camie than gave you a polite squeeze as well, her now trademark blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you for having us over. I hope we can hang out again sometime?”  Her voice came out as a question rather than a statement and the shy smile on her features made you want to scream. She had no idea you were in love with her, possibly, soon to be fiance, and you could only hope she never found out.

“Definitely.” You said with a small nod, ignoring Bakugou’s stare as he moved forward and hugged you again. It felt different than the other’s hugs, almost desperate, his body heat spreading through your entire system and lighting your nerves on fire. The stinging in your eyes started rising tenfold.

“I’m gonna call you when I get home, okay?” His voice was quiet in your ear, but serious. One thing Bakugou was good at was not letting things go, and for once you were a bit unhappy about it. The last thing you needed was him asking you over and over again what was wrong. You made a mental note to shut your phone off as soon as they were gone. You could deal with him once your head was clear.

With a nod and a forceful pull of your body from his, Camie’s hand was in his, tugging him out the door. The boys shouted goodbyes with big waves as they marched out behind them, laughing amongst themselves. He glanced over his shoulder at you just as you moved to close the door, making your heart leap to your throat as he held the gaze for a second.

You immediately ripped your gaze away, pushing the door closed with a thud. The second the lock turned with a soft click, you felt your pain boiling over, your back hitting the wooden surface as your eyes filled with pointless tears. It felt like you’d been dropped in a pool of ice cold water and your body was seizing up. Every nerve in your body was working on overtime but somehow dull all at once.

It wasn’t like you thought you’d had much of a chance before, but now even the smallest hope of it happening had been snuffed out. The pictures of him on the walls were making you feel like you were being mocked and you wished you could throw them all out. The pleasant thoughts of your apartment you were having earlier were gone, filled with disdain for the memories now burning in your mind.

How could you have been so stupid? How could you have let yourself fall in love this deep for someone who would never feel that way for you?

A sharp laugh escaped you as your eyes fell shut and your head tilted back, slightly knocking off the door. The tears dripped off of your cheek and down onto your shirt, leaving tiny dark circles in the fabric, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to reign it in. This all was like the plot of one of those stupid romantic movies you hated so much and the irony wasn’t lost on you.

But if this was one of those movies than Bakugou would have come running back and confessed that he had always loved you. He’d have thrown his arms around you and kissed you til he couldn’t breathe and have whispered how he could never want anyone else.

But this wasn’t one of those movies, this was reality.

Bakugou wasn’t in love with you, he was in love with Camie. He was going to ask her to marry him and they were going to live happily ever after.

And you were always going to be the best friend.

Nothing more.

[dailytomlinson]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[seokmingiggles]

what kind of future.

Anon requested on 201221: "Would you do a Hoseok one shot of his significant other's 4 year old nephew crashing their bed during the night he sleeps over because of a nightmare and Hoseok is super soft with the reader about this being their future?"

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x gender neutral reader

Genre: very fluffy, established relationship.

2.84k words

Warnings: mentions of a (toddler's) nightmare (aka no warnings).

You and your boyfriend are in charge of looking after your brother's son overnight, and the act makes him consider how he'd like to spend the rest of his life with you. Alternatively, there are many things you admire about Hoseok—one being the tender way he does so well with kids, and one not being the way he seems to possess zero Mario Kart skills.

A/N: Here is the second babysitting-themed request I got. Thank you, anon, for requesting Hobi! I have so much adoration for this beautiful boy ;-; Additionally, this fic is not to be confused with Lee Jihoon's heartbreakingly beautiful ballad of the same title. I definitely recommend listening to it if you haven’t already; it’s full of incredible emotion that blows me away and brings me to tears every time I listen.

•• You were surprised when Hoseok, your boyfriend of five years, hadn't hesitated to agree when earlier today you mentioned how you're scheduled to babysit your older brother's son tonight.

You know he's good with kids. Hobi has the perfect amount of energy and positivity to get along with them; it's one of the many traits you admire about him. Even though the two of you have been dating since the beginning of your college years, you and Hoseok have never really discussed your future, including marriage and having children. Although you don't doubt he would be a good father one day.

Your brother, Seokjin, was in desperate need of a date night out with his partner and had asked if you wouldn't mind looking after Jisung for the evening until tomorrow morning. You agreed instantly. You aren't ready to have kids of your own anytime soon, but you thoroughly enjoy spending time with your nephew.

"Thanks again for this, (Y/N). I owe you one."

Your brother arrived at your apartment at precisely 5 pm like he said he would, with Jisung already running to your living room and flopping on the couch upon opening the door.

"It's no problem. Jisung's fun to hang out with, and Hoseok likes him too," you could feel your heart soar at mentioning your boyfriend. "He should be here in about an hour once he gets off work. Hopefully, I'll be able to entertain Jwi until then."

"You're better with kids than you think, don't worry too much," Jin playfully ruffles your hair before saying his farewells to his son (who is already preoccupied with your couch cushions).

You wave goodbye to your brother and encourage your nephew to do the same (although the boy is adamant about creating a pillow fort in your living room; Seokjin apparently doesn't often let him in his house).

"Do you have more pillows, Auntie? And maybe blankets too!" Your couch is already naked of cushions, with Jisung sitting on the floor surrounded by the pile he’s accumulated.

You comply with his request and manage to find some spare blankets in the linen closet, along with a couple more pillows.

You follow your nephew's orders of where to place the soft additions on the floor. "What are you planning on doing once we finish this fort, Jwi?"

The boy murmurs, "I was hoping we could play Mario Kart."

You should have expected that answer; it’s one of his favourite things to do on the few occasions he's come over.

Soon enough, your small living room houses a busy arrangement of scattered couch cushions and duvets to make a comfy fort. The four-year-old is nothing less than thrilled about the finished product.

"Auntie, I'm hungry."

You almost forget that you are babysitting, and therefore responsible for feeding the boy.

"Let's go see what food we have in the kitchen," you stand and hold out your hand, which Jisung eagerly takes as the two of you wander into the kitchen. "Has your favourite food changed? Or do you still like pancakes?"

The boy squeezes your hand as he thinks. "I still like pancakes. I also like pizza." He hums in deep consideration, "Maybe I like circle-shaped foods."

You think he's adorable.

"There are a lot of tasty circle-shaped foods, that's a good answer," your eyes scan the interior of your fridge, moving to your cupboards shortly after when you can't find what you are looking for. "I'm sorry, buddy, but it doesn't look like I have the right ingredients for pancakes tonight, though."

Jisung audibly expresses his disappointment.

"Here, let me see if I can call Hobi. Maybe he hasn't left work yet and could kindly pick up some mix on his way." You trek back to the living room to retrieve your phone and find Hoseok's contact.

The line rings once, twice, and a few more times until it goes to voicemail.

It’s unlike Hoseok to not answer his phone, so you try once more.

"Auntie! There's someone at the door."

You must have missed the knocking as you focussed on the dial tone.

Hoseok finally picks up on the line as you make your way to answer the door.

"Special delivery," you hear through the phone and in front of you as you open the door.

You break out into a smile, which only becomes wider as you spot a couple of pizza boxes Hoseok carefully holds with one hand, his other one keeping his phone to his ear.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" You help him with the boxes as you usher him inside your apartment. "Because you always seem to know what I'm going to ask you before I even say anything."

"It's just one of my superpowers, don't you know I can read your mind, (Y/N)-ie?" He makes some silly sound effects as he displays how he can 'read your mind.'

"Pizza!" Jisung calls out upon seeing the cardboard boxes on the counter. "Oh, hi, Hobi!"

"Yeah, you better say hi to me," your boyfriend sweeps your nephew up in a hug and lightly spins around with him. "I'm not just your pizza boy; I'm your favourite uncle too, right?"

Jisung laughs as they spin. "I think you're my only uncle, Hobi."

"Exactly. So I must be your favourite by default then, hm?"

"Ah, stop teasing and go wash your hands. Both of you!"

"Yes, Auntie," both Jisung and Hoseok say, the latter mostly to keep teasing you despite your request.

Dinner is louder than what you are used to. The times where you would eat alone when Hoseok would be working late or simply not over seem like a distant memory as you’re sat between the two boys at the small table, seemingly alternating between bites of pizza and bubbly laughter. Jisung had asked if you all could eat in the living room fort, but you could already picture the tomato sauce stains and spilled crumbs decorating your furniture, so you denied his request and were met with a pout in return. But his pout didn't last for very long once he took a bite of the cheese-adorned food.

Seeing how Hoseok gets along so well with your nephew does something to your heartstrings; how he would listen to Jisung with the utmost attention and not hesitate to give the most perfect response in return. Your boyfriend is clearly gifted with children; you can't contain the smile on your face as you listen to him discuss something about dinosaurs with the toddler.

"I want to be Bowser when we play Mario Kart, Auntie," the boy tugs on your sleeve to pull you from your thoughts. "He's a dinosaur, right, Uncle?"

"Actually, I think he's a turtle," Hoseok considers, "but he does look kind of like a dinosaur, doesn't he?"

Jisung agrees without a second thought, now practically vibrating in his seat from the excitement and anticipation of playing the game. It helps that his tummy is now full of pizza, courtesy of your amazing boyfriend.

It isn't yet 7 o'clock, so you figure the three of you could play for a bit before your nephew has to go to bed. With fingers free from pizza grease, you all pick up the small switch controllers and choose your characters for the Kart racing game. Jisung chooses Bowser like he said he would, while Hoseok opts for Yoshi, and you with a Shy Guy in your favourite colour.

You are aware that Seokjin also has this game at his house—your brother was ecstatic when he learned his son also likes to play video games—but you couldn't have expected Jisung to be that well-practiced for a four-year-old. You knew you could beat Hobi at the game, you have many times before, and this evening was no different, but your nephew is unexpectedly your biggest competition.

An hour and a half quickly passes by with the sounds of competitive shouts and the in-game noises of Hoseok's character falling off the map too many times to count. You love Hobi, but certainly not for his Mario Kart skills. Sure enough, it is time to get Jisung ready for bed. You collect the overnight bag your brother left at the door, moving to the bathroom to help the boy get changed into his pyjamas and brush his teeth (in the other room, you hear Hoseok start another race so he could practice by himself).

After only minimal fussing, you manage to get Jisung tucked in the bed residing in the small room doubling as your office and a guest bedroom. Even though it’s only a twin-sized bed, the boy has plenty of room to be comfortable during the night.

"You know where to find us if you need anything, okay, Jwi?" You are now by the door saying your final goodnights to your nephew with Hoseok beside you after shutting the game off. "I'll also leave a nightlight in the hallway so it won't be completely dark."

"Thank you, Auntie (Y/N), goodnight. Goodnight, Hobi." Jisung waves at the two of you after yawning with a wide mouth.

You and your boyfriend wish a final goodnight before you close the door until it is only slightly propped open.

Hoseok takes your hand as you leave the short hallway and find yourselves back in the living room. You are finally pulled into a warm hug.

"Should we clean this up tonight?" Hobi whispers into your hair as he embraces you.

You relax in his hold, also keeping your voice low when you say, "No, Jwi will probably want to sit in his fort again tomorrow morning before Jin picks him up."

You feel a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Okay," Hoseok begins playing with the ends of your hair. "Why am I so tired too? It's only 8:30."

"There's nothing wrong with going to bed early." You turn your head so you can see Hobi's pretty face, "Who knows what time that kid will wake us up in the morning. Jin said he's still an early riser."

That is all the motivation Hoseok needs to take your hand once more and lead you to the bathroom so you could also get ready to go to sleep.

"Hey, Hoseok?" you whisper in the darkened room, feeling for his hand beneath the covers.

"Yeah?" he hums back.

"How did you get to be so good with children?"

There is silence as your boyfriend thinks, then claims, "It's funny that you say that because I don't think I'm particularly good with kids." He stops once more, thumbing the back of your hand. "All I do is make sure I listen to them properly and treat them well. I don't think it's anything special."

You move closer to Hoseok, finding a safe place in his side. "I think it's special. I've seen you before with other kids too, not just with Jisung, and it's the same thing. They just seem to like you." You run your fingers upwards on his arm until you reach the side of his face. "You're very likeable, Hobi."

With your thumb grazing over Hoseok's cheek, you lean in to give him a kiss against his soft lips. He tastes of peppermint from your toothpaste but smells familiar, like home.

"You're very lovable, (Y/N)," he replies, mirroring a hand on the back of your head. Although you can't see his face in the darkness, you can hear the smile in his voice. "I love you."

"I love you too."

You and Hoseok unexpectedly succeed at falling asleep at around 9 pm. Yet, you aren't sure for how long you manage to sleep as you are awoken by Jisung, who has appeared on your side of the bed.

"Auntie?"

Jisung's voice is quiet. He feels bad for waking you up, but he keeps your sentiment in his mind about coming to you if he needs anything during the night.

Hoseok is the first to wake at the sound of sniffles. He reaches over to turn on the dim table lamp, only to find the toddler with tear-stained cheeks and tightly clutching his favourite stuffed whale plushie.

You stir from the sudden introduction of light and sit up, becoming immediately concerned at Jisung next to you.

"Hey, come here," you coo, helping the boy get situated between you and your boyfriend in your bed. "What's wrong, Jwi?"

The boy sniffles a few more times before saying, "I h-had a bad dream."

Hoseok had already moved around him, now taking a tissue to help dry his face before rubbing soothing circles on his back. Jisung moves to sit slightly closer to Hobi, leaning into his touch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" your boyfriend asks, his voice is nothing but gentle.

Jisung nods, "There were monsters. Big monsters with spikes. They looked scary." He squeezes the plush whale, "They were chasing me, but I wasn't fast enough."

Hoseok nods as he listens carefully, gently swaying as he rocks the boy to calm him down.

"Would you feel safer if you stayed here?" you offer. "I promise you no monsters can get in this room."

Jisung accepts with a quiet "Please," and begins to settle beneath the covers.

It doesn't take much for the toddler to relax; Hoseok is humming some tune barely audible to you as you stroke the top of his head softly.

Hobi becomes silent when the sound of Jisung's breathing steadies out, and his grip on the whale loosens.

Despite your tiredness from your interrupted sleep, you remain in that position watching your nephew as his chest rises and falls. His small nostrils on his round nose flaring every once in a while.

And as you watch the boy, Hoseok watches you.

He admires your beauty—an obvious quality, but something to admire nonetheless—and the way your touches are so delicate. You have expressed your doubts about being good with children in the past, but all Hoseok can see now is how caring you are as you make sure Jisung is properly asleep and feeling better.

"Hey, (Y/N)?" Hoseok whispers, "What kind of future do you think we'll have?"

You direct your gaze to your boyfriend and nearly melt at the way he is looking at you so fondly.

"What kind of future do you think we'll have?" you smile and repeat the question to him, suspecting that he already has an answer.

Hobi beams. "I can picture us in a similar situation down the road, except maybe it's our own child between us." He carefully fixes the blanket ever-so-slightly so that Jisung is fully covered. "I can picture us in our own house one day after we're married. It'll have a nice kitchen with plenty of room for slow dances at midnight and a big bathtub in the ensuite that I know you'll use plenty." He gently tucks some hair behind the toddler's ear. "I can picture us growing old together." His gaze once again meets yours. "That's the kind of future I want to have. Anything is optional, except for you. You're the only requirement I ask for, my love."

You want to squish into Hoseok's embrace once more, but you refrain yourself from moving at the dispense of Jisung's newfound peace.

Instead, you whisper back with glassy eyes, "The only kind of future I want is with you, Hobi."

Your boyfriend glows at your words and warms your heart with his dimple-clad smile.

Down the road, you would, in fact, end up engaged to Hoseok one day, and soon after to be married as well. Your house wouldn't have a bathtub in the ensuite, but the kitchen would have plenty of room, and your husband would ensure that he twirls you around like the royalty he sees you as.

One day, you would find yourself with a daughter of your own and catching Hoseok brushing her hair as she gets ready for her first day of kindergarten. She would be so happy with the little ribbon he tied in her hair and would run to your arms to show you.

One day, you would find yourself going grey with Hoseok still next to you; the same Hoseok who would kiss you silly to wake you up on the morning of your birthday, the same Hoseok who would insist on paying for your dinner every time he'd request a date night.

The same Hoseok who would tell you "I love you" in the most gentle tone of voice, never failing to make your heart soar at his words.

One day.

But now, you remain here, in your small apartment with no ensuite nor a large kitchen. You're here, laying next to your beautiful boyfriend with your nephew between your bodies. Both boys are fast asleep, yet you remain awake and thinking about what kind of future you'll have.

What kind of future will you have?

You're open to anything as long as it contains Hoseok.

Yes, one day. ••

[stylesnews]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[excelsi-or]

18/09/25 - beginning of an end (woozi)

w.c. 2.1k (FLUUUUUUUUUUUUFF)

July 28, 2025

September 18, 2025

“You want to what now?”

“Knew I should have called Wonwoo,” Jihoon sighs. He twirls his pencil between his fingers.

“No, calling your best friend is the ideal person to call in this situation.”

“My best friend is an idiot and blowing it out of proportion,” Jihoon retorts.

Mingyu huffs. “You call me, asking how to propose. WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO?”

Jihoon frowns at his phone screen and then puts it back to his ear. “Not yell at me, you absolute dolt. I just want advice on what to say and how to do it. Rings and stuff.”

“I am literally the most ill-equipped person for this conversation,” Mingyu whines. He clicks his tongue. “Let’s go talk to Seungcheollie hyung tonight.”

Considering Seungcheol isn’t married, Jihoon wonders why Mingyu thinks the older man would be helpful. “But why do you need to come?”

“I need to be prepared for your upcoming nuptials.”

Jihoon tries to fight the smile that blooms on his face when he hears those words. “Shut up.”

“I never thought I would see the day, hyung.”

“I’m really going to hang up on you.”

“Text Cheol hyung and then text me.” Mingyu sounds as if he’s going to say goodbye. “Don’t you dare leave me out of this, hyung. I swear to God.” Then the line goes dead.

Jihoon twirls around in his seat. 

The break up songs that one of the managers had liked just weren’t the types of songs he was making nowadays. So he handed the man ballads, sadder songs about love. They were more longing than angsty. And while it doesn’t seem to be exactly what the man had heard, he seemed happy with the end result.

“Ah, you’re a good one, Jihoon-ssi,” he’d said.

Jihoon knows that he can’t do much better than that in terms of a compliment. But it doesn’t take a genius to know that Jihoon’s head hasn’t been entirely on music the past few weeks.

The company had had a party a few nights ago to celebrate the end of summer. This meant that significant others and spouses were able to mingle alongside them. While it was nice to introduce her to some of the other producers, she knew Hansol, Seokmin, and Bumzu already. They were the only real people that mattered to him.

Regardless, since then, people have been passing him in the hallway asking when he plans to tie the knot.

“You don’t let a smart woman like that walk around without a ring on her finger, Jihoon-ah,” one of the higher ups had said. She’d wanted a drink and Jihoon had offered to grab it for her. If she had heard that man, she would have given him a piece of her mind. Something along the lines of ownership and how she, as a smart woman, can do whatever she wants with or without a ring.

But odd comments like that have had him looking at marriage differently.

His mother, in particular, has been pushing the marriage card a bit harder than usual. Every time Jihoon calls, she asks why he hasn’t asked that ‘poor girl to marry him’. 

“We’re just not ready yet,” Jihoon says every time.

“Aish,” his mother sighs. “When are you going to be ready?”

“What’s the difference if we’re married? We’d be living the same life we do now.”

“It feels different when you’re married, Jihoon-ah.”

When he wakes up next to her in the morning, he’s started wondering how different it would feel.

“What do you think of marriage?” Jihoon asked one morning at breakfast. They were sat across each other on their kitchen counters with bowls of cereal in their laps.

“Marriage?” she repeated. She tipped her head in that way of hers. “We said we’d get married when we were ready.”

Jihoon nodded. They’ve been saying it for years now. When they’re ready. “Are we?”

“Ready for marriage?” She looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you ready for marriage?”

“Are you?”

She chewed thoughtfully, tipping her head back. “Jihoonie, if you asked me to marry you, I’d be stupid to say no. But how different would our lives be if we tied the knot?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Omma says it’s different.”

She had no response to that, but that was an affirmative answer as any. The topic of marriage usually put them off completely and made them scared for what the future held. But Jihoon has been analyzing his future before bed every night, as she lays in his arms already asleep.

She’s it. Every future he can come up with has her in it.

And maybe that’s what makes him ready.

Jihoon digs around in his pocket for the ring box that he’s been carrying for a few weeks. He’d picked it out, checked her shoe for her shoe size and sized the ring to it. If the Internet was lying about that, they can always get it resized. He keeps the ring box in his backpack and sweater pockets when he leaves the house. She’ll find it if he leaves it at home.

The call to Mingyu was to prep him. And because he also knows his friend is horrible at keeping it secrets, everyone else will know by the time they get home. It’s a sort of incentive to ask her now before the surprise is spoiled.

His phone rings and he answers on the first ring when he sees her name. “Hello?”

“Can you still get away for a quick dinner?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you by the Han.”

“You’ve already ordered our foods, yes?”

“The Cokes and chicken should be there when you get there,” Jihoon chuckles. He’d ordered before calling Mingyu. “See you in a bit.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” As soon as he’s hung up, he hops out of his chair, makes sure he has everything and hurries out of the building. It isn’t until he’s in the lobby that he realizes that the ring isn’t in his sweater pocket. Quickly, Jihoon bolts back upstairs, past four people he already said bye to and passes those same four people again on his way down.

Jihoon catches the train. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet the entire way, the anticipation killing him. He didn’t expect to be nervous. He planned this entire thing so that it would be a nonchalant ask. It would come up mid-conversation and she could say yes or no. If she wasn’t ready, cool. If she was, great. He didn’t want to add extra pressure by dressing up fancy and going to a nice restaurant, which they never do; or picking an important date to ask, in case it went wrong.

And yet, he’s still nervous to ask the love of his life if she wants to spend the rest of her life with him. Go figure.

Jihoon, even after running up and down the stairs twice, makes it to the Han before she does. The delivery boy arrives right on time and Jihoon pays him, tips him, and then sits down and waits. Jihoon flicks through a Webtoon he’s been reading in the mean time and glances up every time he thinks he hears her coming.

Jihoon doesn’t bother to look up when he hears jogging footsteps coming towards him until those footsteps stop right beside him. He looks up at her in a yellow dress and one of his cardigans over it, because it’s starting to get cold. Her hair seems wind swept and her cheeks are flushed.

“Train got delayed for a kid who got lost,” she breathes. She takes a seat next to the food, turned so that she’s facing him entirely and her legs are crossed. “Let’s eat.”

Jihoon can’t seem to say anything. He’s at a loss and every time he tries to say something, he has to bite his tongue. The words ‘do you want to marry me’ seem to want to just fall out of his mouth. So he stays mum.

She must assume that he’s just in the middle of a creative whirl, as she talks for the both of them. She updates him on what she’s been up to at work, on the articles she’s read that day, on the little squabbles between their friends.

 “Seungkwan told me that he thinks Hansol is dating somebody, because he stays out late and sometimes texts him that he isn’t coming home.”

Jihoon smirks.

“And I know it’s because he’s prepping to drop his next album and that he doesn’t want to tell Seungkwan until then,” she chuckles. “So I just went along with it.”

She chews thoughtfully and stares out at the River, admiring the lights across the water as it gets dark. “You okay, Ji?”

Jihoon tips his head. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her since she sat down. 

“You literally haven’t said anything since I got here.” She turns back to him. “Something on your mind?”

Jihoon is about to shake his head no, when he feels the weight of the ring box shift against his skin. “Yeah, actually.”

She lifts an eyebrow, popping another chicken piece into her mouth. “What is it?”

Jihoon licks his bottom lip and thinks about how he wants to word this. “Remember that conversation we had a few weeks ago?”

She stares at him blankly.

“At breakfast,” he clears his throat, “about marriage.”

“Oh.” She nods. “Yeah, I do.”

His mouth feels dry. “Have you thought about it since?”

“Marriage?” She shrugs. Her eyes fall to the food between them. “I told you I’d be stupid to say no, I think. All you have to do is ask, Jihoonie, I’ll say—”

He had slipped his hand into his sweater pocket while she was looking at the food. When she sits back, the ring box is open between them.

“Whoa,” she finishes. Her eyes meet his.

Jihoon shrugs sheepishly. “Will you marry me?”

Her eyes have grown to the size of saucers. There’s just a long enough pause that Jihoon starts to pull the ring box back. “Yes, Jihoon. Yeah. Oh my god.” She watches as he slips the ring on her finger.

Before she has time to process all her emotions, Jihoon says, “Hah, the Internet was right.”

The bubbling of emotion, and probably tears, pops as her brow furrows. She pulls her gaze from the ring to look at him. “What?”

Jihoon explains the shoe size-ring size article he’d read. “Didn’t believe it, but I’m glad it’s right otherwise this would be a little anticlimactic. Are you surprised?”

“About the ring fitting or the proposal?” When she looks to him, her eyes are sparkling. “I’m surprised. You’d been mentioning marriage more often lately, especially since that company thing a few days ago. So I guess I was also… expecting something.” She lets out a breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Can’t say I was expecting a full-on proposal. Maybe another conversation about marriage.”

Jihoon takes her hand and brushes a kiss to the back of it. “If I did this any other time, I’m almost sure that everyone else would know I was going to ask.”

“You haven’t told the guys?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “But I assume they all know about a pending engagement by now.”

She laughs, unable to tame her smile or the euphoria in her chest. “You told Gyu, didn’t you?”

He smirks. 

“You’re not actually going back to the office, are you? You’re not going to make me wait to actually tell them, are you? Hansol and Seungkwanie are coming over for games tonight.”

Jihoon chuckles and he squeezes her hand. “I’m all yours tonight.”

She uses her other hand to feed him a piece of chicken. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”

“You guys all have to be out of here by midnight,” she announces once the boys are all seated in the living room.

Jihoon glances over at her from his spot on the couch, laughing.

She brings the snacks to the table as the boys ask why.

“I told you!” Seungkwan exclaims, grabbing her wrist. “He’d do it without telling us!”

Then he pulls her left hand into the center of the room for everyone to see the ring on her finger. The reaction is almost immediate. Jihoon is yanked in what seems like three directions.

Seungkwan pulls her into his lap for a hug, and Jeonghan leans closer so they can discuss the ring.

“And here I thought you were letting me in on a secret!” Mingyu whines as he ruffles Jihoon’s hair.

“The secret that he knew you were going to spread to all of us,” Wonwoo chuckles from Mingyu’s other side.

Jihoon catches her eye across the room and she can’t help but smile.

Yep, that flip in his stomach is all the answer he needs. 

He’s ready.

THE END.

GUYS. To all of you who have read the entirety of this fluffy project, thank you. :D I’ve loved reading through comments and tags. They really do make my day. I’m so glad that there have been people who have loved this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. I initially started writing it in 2018 and would just get these little fluffy ideas of what I wanted a relationship to be. Jihoon was kinda just a stand in man for it. BUT then it evolved into its own story that I love. 

I’m probably going to a week off of posting. I have a huge original story that I’ve been playing around with (lol, I actually have like 5, but i’m working on one right now). But I do have another fluffy, Jihoon thing that is mostly done and just needs to be edited at this point (single dad Jihoon anyone?). SO there’s more coming from me. :) 

[unifox]

Just one night?

~Pairing: Changsub x female reader

~Genre: angst/ fluff/ suggestive 

~Warnings: suggestive (I think thats all)

~Words: 1383

~Summary: You had a lot in common with your sunbae Changsub and that lead to some fun at his house. You guessed that maybe all that would happen between you two would be just that night...

a/n: I'm thinking about a part 2. Maybe a fluff ending? Please message me with suggestions :) also... HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope 2021 will be a year with more happiness and hope, and a year that we can become better and happier! ~Foxy🦊

~Masterlist~

> gif's not mine <

Being a trainee definitely wasn't easy, we all know it. You were one of the members of a girl group that was to be debuted by Cube, currently taking part of an elimination program (kinda like pentagon maker)

By now, you already met basically most cube artist and thats how you came to be here, talking to your senior, who you really admired, Lee Changsub. At first he offered to drive you home since it was late but instead, decided to take you to his home to show you the collection of cds he had.

"I didn't know you'd also be so interested in this sort of rock ballad songs" he said showing you his big collection, which was by the TV

"I always enjoyed this genre the most! Your album MARK was sooooo good! I absolutely loved it!"

"Thank you! I worked hard on it!"

For about an hour you guys just sat in his couch and talked, mostly Changsub giving you advice on how to get better when performing or even when recording. After a while you decided to watch a movie but after some time you saw from the corner of your eyes that he was looking at you. Not sure if it was a good idea but you decided to look back at him too, and after some time staring at each other, the boring movie long forgotten, he leaned in initiating a kiss that you soon reciprocated

Things got a bit heated and since you were sitting on his lap as you made out, he lifted you up and took you to his room

- - - - -

The next morning Changsub woke up to an empty bed, 'I guessed wrong the type of one night stand she was' he thought to himself. He got up from his bed and put on some shorts, not before checking his nightstands to see if you had left any notes for him. Sadly, he found nothing which made him slightly disappointed. Opening the door of his room a pleasant smell of bacon filled his nose

"Oh? Good morning"

you looked really cute in his t-shirt from the night before. Your smile made his frown go away as soon as he entered the kitchen and heard you voice.

"Sorry to intrude, and also use your kitchen, but I figured you'd be hungry..."

He softly smiled and walked over one of the stools in the kitchen

"It's really alright, I'm not gonna lie, I thought you were gone. But this... this is way more like you"

"How so?"

"Well, from how you acted yesterday and your general personality you didn't seem like the type to just leave in the morning. If I'm being honest, I thought we would wake up together but this is way more pleasant" He says sending you a sweet smile and muttering a quiet thanks when you pass him a plate filled with scrambled eggs and bacon.

"You're not having any?" He questioned "I'm fine, don't worry" You dismissed him, but he insisted in giving you bites of his breakfast

The morning was very nice and just like the night before you both chatted freely and enthusiastically until you had to leave

"Do you want a ride to the company? I'm headed there"

"No, don't worry. I need to to go the dorm to change my clothes. Plus, us showing up together at the company would probably not be very appropriate..."

"You're right, I was being careless... I can give you a ride to your dorm if you want?"

"Uhmm... I guess that would be nice thank you"

After breakfast you changed back into your yesterday clothes and headed to Changsubs car. The ride was silent but not awkward and soon enough you reached your destination.

"Thank you sunbaenim, I'll see you around" You bowed politely, remembering the actual relationship between you guys. Also realizing that, Changsub just nodded muttering a 'See ya' and driving away. 'I guess I could only have one night with him' you thought to yourself, disappointedly walking into your building

- - - - -

Of course that when you got into your dorm, your members bombarded you with questions. After some explaining they calmed down, not really judging you since they knew the type of person you were

You weren't into one night stands and since forever you rarely went on dates or anything related

"Why did you do it tho? It's not really... you" Your leader asked

"I'm not sure myself... I guess he just had this charm that really drew me in..." You stared saying while remembering the previous night. Before any dirty thoughts flooded you and your members mind you quickly added "But he's really sweet! A gentleman! And- and-" Your leader started laughing at your panicked expression

"It's fine, as long as you had fun and he treated you nicely I'm ok with it. Let's just not tell anyone else" She said directing not only at you but the rest of your group.

The maknae of your group dragged you to the side and whispered excitedly "Was it just an impulse or were you into him??" You looked at her unsure "Maybe I had a crush on him? I don't know" "What do you mean you don't know? It's obvious you like him. You don't notice, but every time we met him I could practically see the hearts floating around you" she gestured pretending to point out the hearts floating around you, while you playfully pushed her trying to dismiss her antics

The rest of the day went quite normal. Training, training some more and recording. You were also the producer of your group, so while mixing the track a staff member knocked on your studio door and called for you

"There's someone that wants to see you y/n"

You exchanged looks with your group mate and she just smiled and told you to go and that she would just take a break

You walked after the man that went to fetch you up to the artists studio floor and that's when you got nervous. An artist wants to see me?

When the doors to the elevator opened, there stood Changsub, leaning against the opposite wall and looking very handsome... Stop, I really shouldn't think about that...

"Y/n, there you are. Come" he gestured for you to follow him. Oh, so he was the one who wanted to see you. Even after the whole thing you guys went through, after the car incident you got shy and really nervous

You both got into his studio and after siting on his computer chair and asking you to take a seat on the sofa propped on the wall, he began "Ok, why did you sleep with me? Do you want to guarantee your group's stay in the program?"

Shocked with his statement you tried to reply "W-what? I would nev-" "Really y/n, just tell me. It's better that way. Was is for satisfaction? An achievement?" While he was speaking you could see that he was getting angry, but so were you

"Are you kidding me?! I would never do such a thing!" You said trying to keep calm. Before he could chime in again you added "If you think that I- I slept with you because it would be some sort of award you're wrong!" You started to blush feeling embarrassed "Maybe we should just forget it happened. Nobody should know and I should just forget I ever liked you!" In the heat of the moment you said it all and as soon as you realized it was too late

"You... You like me?" He asked, breaking the silence

"I- maybe" You replied truthfully but not really expecting I'm to like you back. He barely knew you

"I'm sorry, I-" He stared saying feeling guilty that he though you were using him when in reality you liked him. "I'm not sure if I like you back"

"It's fine, I wasn't expecting anything in return... Was that all?" You said embarrassed, all you wanted right now was to get out of there as fast as possible

"Y- Yeah... Again sorry" You bowed quickly and walked fast toward the stairs, trying to reach your mini studio quickly and digest everything that just happened

[hlupdate]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

BTS Scenario| They plan a surprise for your birthday

This was written for the ever lovely and angelic @saymynamewithluv​

Happy birthday. :D  I hope you have the best day and this is my birthday present to you (with Taehyung giving you something a little extra for your birthday. What is it? Well you’ll just have to read and see :D) 💜💜💜💜 I wish I could spend your birthday with you it sucks that we live so far away from each other. Alright go ahead and read now I have been making you wait for this for days so again, HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I purple you! 

The group chat you had with the boys was surprisingly quiet today. Which of course immediately made you suspicious. Usually the chat was buzzing with them talking about the most random things. And at the very least Yoongi or Jin were scolding the younger members for something silly they had done. But there was nothing, not even a happy birthday text from any of them. 

You weren’t going to lie. You were starting to feel extremely disappointed. Did they forget your birthday? But how could they have? You had been friends with all of them for years. You sent a message to the group chat, wanting to see what they were up to today. 

What are you all doing today?

Yoongi is the first one to respond which is unusual for him.

Photoshoot today. We’re all really busy sorry y/n. 

Oh. That’s okay. Make sure to rest and don’t skip any meals you guys! 

Will do. Thanks.

You sigh and set your phone down. So it wasn’t unreasonable that they forgot then. They seemed to be extremely busy. But you were still disappointed you wouldn’t get to spend your birthday with the people who meant the most to you in this world. You turn on the TV, turning on your favorite show to binge watch. You throw your hair up in a messy bun and throw your sweat pants back on, figuring you aren’t going to have any company over today. You don’t even realize you’d fallen asleep on the couch until suddenly your hear hushed whispers in your apartment. 

“She fell asleep! What the heck?!”

“Be quiet, Taehyung let her rest.”

“But it’s her birthday! Did she really think we forgot?”

“Hyung that’s probably why she fell asleep and is still in her sweat pants I told you trying to surprise her was a bad idea now she thinks we forgot her birthday!” Suddenly you feel a heavy weight on top of you. Your eyes shoot open and you see Taehyung’s familiar eyes gazing at you as he hugs you tightly. 

“Y/n! We are so sorry! We didn’t forget your birthday I promise. We just wanted to make you think we did so we could surprise you! Which now that I say that out loud I realize how mean that prank sounds oh gosh.” You are blushing madly having Taehyung so close to you and you wonder how he can be so unbothered. You collect your thoughts, and reach out to pat his head.

“It’s okay Tae! I am just so happy you guys are here now. I couldn’t imagine spending my birthday without you all.” Taehyung smiles happily at that and clambers off of you after Yoongi clears his throat. “ Uh so what do you all have planned for me today?” 

“I’m cooking dinner and the cake!” Jin yells from the kitchen. 

“I’m supplying the entertainment.” Hoseok says as he spins around dancing without a care in the world, making you laugh.

“I thought maybe me and you and Jimin could play some games together.” Jungkook announces as he walks over to the TV to set up his game system. 

“I brought a playlist of all your favorite songs.” Namjoon says. 

“I just brought my cutie sexy lovely face isn't that good enough?” Jimin says with a giggle. 

“Yes, that is good enough for me, Jimin.” 

“I am going to be taking the photos of your special day! And also supplying you with the best, most amazing birthday present you’ve ever seen.” Taehyung says excitedly. You smile at him.

“Oh I can’t wait to see what it is then!” You glance at Yoongi who still hasn’t said anything or shown much reaction to the rest of the things the members had mentioned. 

“Well obviously I am here to spend time with you for your birthday, but I actually wanted to talk to you about something first.”

“Oh? Okay then. We can go to my room?” Yoongi nods. Taehyung eyes you two suspiciously but doesn’t say anything as you retreat into the bedroom. You shut the door behind you and talk quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear your conversation.

“Yoongi? Is everything okay?”

“So uh, you still like Taehyung right?” You stare ay him incredulously. 

“Um, yes? Of course I do? Feelings just don’t go away over night you know? I’ve liked him for years.” 

“Okay good.”

“Why?”

“Because just.. I can’t tell you anything but I just had to make sure before Taehyung gives you your gift.” 

“What on earth is going on Yoongi?” 

“Nothing! Forget I said anything this conversation never happened.” Yoongi opens the door and Taehyung stumbles in, almost falling on his face but you catch him before he does. 

“Kim Taehyung were you eavesdropping?” Yoongi scolds him. 

“No! And even if I was I couldn’t hear anything you guys were saying anyway so..” 

“Sounds to me like you were eavesdropping then Tae, just not successfully.” You ruffle his hair and he swats your hand away playfully. 

“Yah! Don’t mess up my hair I spent a long time on it.” 

“Why? Did you want to look good for me?” Taehyung’s face turns bright red and he glances away from you. 

“Stop teasing me.” 

“Okay okay. I’m sorry. Let’s go have this birthday party shall we?”

And your party was so much fun. Jin made the most incredible food and cake. Hoseok and Namjoon danced to your favorite songs with you, only to have Taehyung steal you away for a dramatic slow dance equipped with dips and spins and all when a softer ballad came on. You had beat Jungkook and Jimin in Mario Kart, Taehyung challenged you and you had beat him too, much to his disappointment. He got quite competitive and challenged you to another round, only to lose again. The party was winding down, when all of the members started looking at Taehyung. You saw him nod his head slightly and now suddenly they all had an excuse to leave. 

“Gotta get to the studio early tomorrow.” 

“Me too.”

“I need to practice this choreography.”

“And I need to come up with some new ones.”

“I don’t have an excuse I just know Taehyung wants to be alone with you so we’re all leaving bye!” Jin shouts as he ushers the rest of them out the door. You and Taehyung are still sat on the floor together from your video game match. You notice he is fidgeting with his hands and looking rather nervous. 

“Taehyung?��

“Um.. I want to give you your present now.” 

“Okay.. I would love to see what it is.” You reach your hand out and squeeze his to help comfort him and calm his nerves down. He squeezes back and the corner of his mouth barely lift up in a smile. He won’t meet your gaze. You wonder what he could possibly be so nervous about to give you. He stands up abruptly, walking over to the counter where he had set your gift and then lays it in your lap. It’s wrapped in purple paper and a purple bow.

“Did you wrap this?”

“Was it that obvious? Am I that bad at wrapping? I tried my best.” He says with a nervous laugh.

“No no! It’s just purple. I know how much that color means to you. So I figured you had.” This time when he smiles it reaches his eyes, but his hands are trembling. You open the gift and are staring at what looks like a photo album. The cover has a saying written on it in his handwriting. 

If you want to learn what someone fears losing, watch what they photograph. 

Your breath hitches as you turn the page and see it is filled with photos of you, and the two of you. You had no idea Taehyung had even taken some of these photos of you. They were candid, you smiling, laughing, concentrating on a canvas you were painting, a drawing you were sketching. 

And then there were the selfies you two had taken together. Some including Yeontan. You flipped through the pages, feeling tears forming behind your eyes at how thoughtful the gift was, but also how much meaning he had poured into this. 

“Tae.. Is this really how you see me?”

“As the most beautiful, kind, caring, amazing person in the world? Yes.” 

“And this phrase in the beginning. Did you mean that?”

“Of course I did.”

“So does that mean..? Is this?”

“My way of confessing? Kind of yeah. Um.. either that or it can just be a really cool platonic present no worries!” He scratches the back of his head and gazes at you nervously. You stare at him, until your brain finally catches up and you throw yourself into his arms. He immediately reciprocates the hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly. Your voice cracks as a few tears slip out. 

“This is the most incredible gift anyone has given me. I can tell you really put your heart and soul into this and I will cherish it for the rest of my life.” 

“You know there’s a few blank pages in there. I was hoping we could fill them up with some more photos of us?” You pull away and smile at him. You grab his camera off the coffee table and hand it to him. You turn around so your back is leaning against his chest. You both smile and he takes a photo, kissing your cheek right before he takes the photo. It’s a polaroid, so you two have to wait a few moments for the film to develop. When it finally does you both break out into wide smiles and giggles seeing how happy you both look in the photo. You open up to a blank page, and stick the photo to there. You pull out a pen to write on the blank space. 

“What should we write here?”

“Hmm..” You think for a moment before you write today’s date, along with A new chapter begins. Taehyung’s smile is replaced with a nervous glance again. 

“So does this mean you like the gift? Um.. in a nonplatonic way?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious when I threw myself on you crying.” 

“I just want to hear you say it.”

“Say what? That I like you too? That I think you also are the most beautiful, kind, caring, amazing person I have ever met in my life?” 

“Yeah that. All that. Well, a simple I like you too would have done just fine but I won’t turn down the extra praise.” You laugh and hold your hand out to him. He looks puzzled bit takes your hand anyway. 

“Y/n where are we going?”

“You really expect me to believe those guys left? They’re all probably still sitting outside the apartment waiting to hear every detail.” You open the front door, hand in hand with Taehyung and sure enough, they all are standing out there, wide eyed until they glance down at your linked hands. 

“Did it work?! Are you two together now?!” Jimin asks excitedly. 

“Yes. We are.” They all clap and cheer, Yoongi just stands in the back giving you a small smile and knowing look. It’s at this moment you are hit with just how fond you are of all them. Seeing how much effort they put into making you happy on your birthday, you are so grateful to them. 

“Thank you guys. This has been the best birthday ever and it’s because of you all.” 

“Of course y/n! You’re our best friend and there isn’t a single thing we wouldn’t do for you to make you smile.”

[cali-holland]

Teenage Love Story, Part Five- S.M.

Pairing: Shawn Mendes X Reader

Prompt: Shawn writes his own version of "Lover” for you, a.k.a an extension of part four mainly from Shawn’s point of view.

Word Count: 2500

Previous Parts: Teaser   One   Two   Three   Four

Warnings: lil bit of sexual jokes if you squint

Based on: Lover (Remix) by Taylor Swift ft. Shawn Mendes

A/N: Here’s the fifth part no one expected six months later...

~~~

August 2019

Shawn couldn’t help himself as he paced nervously in his hotel room. He had just finished his show in Boston, and he should be filled with exhilarating adrenaline; instead, he was overcome by nerves. 

He found himself in a catch 22 of sorts- Taylor had just released a new song, Lover, and he knew that you wrote a good amount of that track, but he missed you and he knew the song would only make the pain in his heart grow. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to listen to it, if he could even bring himself to listen to it. It was supposed to be your song, your love ballad to him; and he knew it must be good if Taylor released it as a single. Who was he kidding- he thought every song you wrote was good.

“It’s just a song.” Shawn whispered to himself as he played with the phone in his hands, “I’ve listened to all of Y/N’s songs. This isn’t any different.” He kept talking to himself, shaking his head as he tried to reach a decision. “That’s it. I’m going to do it.”

Sighing, he laid down on the bed and opened up Spotify. Of course, it was advertised at the top of his phone: “Taylor Swift’s new single, Lover, out now”. He began the song and listened intently.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January,

This our place, we make the rules,

And there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear,

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?” Shawn let out a heartbroken laugh, remembering back to that day that he first read through your journal. He knew it was private, but he just desperately wanted to know. That was the day he gave you that promise ring and promised to always be yours. 

As the song continued on, Shawn felt his eyes begin to sting with tears. Defeated, he stared up at the ceiling, longing to hold you again.

“And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you,

I’ve loved your three summers now, honey, but I want ‘em all,” He didn’t need to even think about whether it was you or Taylor who wrote that line; he knew it was you. He saw that in your journal as well, and he had told himself he wanted all of your summers too; yet, here he was, spending his first summer without you in years.

As the song ended, Shawn put it on repeat and just stayed there, crying alone in his hotel room. If anyone were to walk in, he doubted that he could even bring himself to be embarrassed of his current; his head was filled with thoughts of you. He just wanted you and only you.

He wiped away his tears and looked at his phone clearly for the first time since he first heard the song. Spotify had credited you as a co-writer of the song. Shawn smiled fondly, glad that you finally took credit for your song-writing talent. He found himself reading over your past text messages to each other from all those months ago. You were so in love back then. He wanted to reach out, to tell you he loved the song, to say that he was proud of you, to apologize for hurting you.

But he couldn’t. He thought maybe you had moved on, maybe you had found someone better than him. He knew that you deserve the best and he highly doubted that he was the best for you.

Abandoning his hopeless scroll through the text messages, he began to go through his photos. He didn’t think it would make him feel any better, but that bittersweet feeling of reminiscing was all he could get at that moment. Photos of your time together was the closest he could get to you.

He had an album titled “Lover” that he had started while you were still together. While the pictures and videos were all out of order, he still admired it. You found it cheesy but embarrassing as he had some pretty questionable photos of you saved in there. You’d never admit it to him, but you adored it.

The very first picture was the first one of the two of you. It was of you two backstage of the 1989 tour; you were sat in Shawn’s lap and he had his hands over yours as he showed you how to play one of his songs on guitar. Taylor had taken that picture, and she was so proud of her matchmaking work. At that point, you and Shawn had been dating for a little under a month. He loved that photo so much that it was still framed on the wall in his house.

One of his favorite photos was of the two of you dressed as Jack and Rose from The Titanic for Halloween, when Shawn managed to come visit you for the holiday while you were away at college. You had both agreed to do a couple’s costume, and the idea of using The Titanic came from a movie marathon the night before. You watched everything from that to Dirty Dancing to Mamma Mia. Shawn felt himself starting to blush thinking back to that night- you two definitely focused more on each other than the actual movies. 

Next, he found a video from your three year anniversary when he surprised you with a candle lit dinner. As if that wasn’t romantic enough, the two of you danced around in the kitchen all night. Shawn had taken a short video of you singing “Let’s Get It On” to him, “C’mon baby, let your love come out, if you believe in love, let’s get it on”. He dropped his video at the end because you pulled him in for a heated kiss, and in that moment he couldn’t care less about his phone. 

His favorite picture of the two of you came up next. It was a simple photograph of Shawn kissing outside of your college townhouse. Sitting on the top step of the stoop, you were looking down at Shawn, who was sitting between your legs. He remembered it was definitely an awkward angle for a kiss, as his head was practically upside down, but that was one of the moments in which wanting to kiss you outweighed all other discomforts. Connor had taken that picture of the two of you, and Shawn kept it as his phone lock screen until you broke up. 

Following a string of goofy selfies taken between you two, Shawn found a video of you. You had secretly recorded it on his phone before he left for tour, knowing that he’d find it under his special photo album.

“Hey, honey,” You smiled into the camera, “If you’ve found this video, that means you’re going through old pictures of us and you’re missing me. I’m missing you too. I don’t know where you’ll be when you see this, but have a great time on tour. I’m sorry I couldn’t join you, just don’t go getting yourself any groupies,” You teased, “I’m counting down the days until I get to see you again. I love you, Shawn.” You blew a kiss into the camera before the video ended.

He let out a shaky breath and set his phone aside. Sniffling, he went and grabbed his guitar, deciding he should probably take some time to work out his feelings, rather than just wallowing in his self-pity.

No matter what melody he attempted to play, he just came back to the chords of “Lover”. Shawn ran a hand through his hair and began to play the song to himself.

“We could light a bunch of candles,

And dance around the kitchen, baby,

Pictures of when we were young would hang on the wall,

We would sit on the stoop,

I’ll sing love songs to you when we’re eighty,

See, I finally got you now, honey, I won’t let you fall,” He paused, realizing the lyrics weren’t the words you had written. Quickly grabbing his notebook, Shawn wrote down the lyrics, wanting to hold onto them in case some opportunity presented itself to use them later on. He continued playing, using your lyrics for inspiration,

“Look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth,

The girl in my story has always been you

I’d go down with the Titanic, it’s true, for you, lover,”

Shawn added the new lyrics into his journal, his fingers tracing the words. He set aside the guitar and journal, knowing it was probably well past time for him to go to sleep. With an early flight tomorrow morning and the alarm clock informing him that it was now 1 AM, he decided it would be a good idea to get some rest. Lying down in bed, Shawn drifted off to sleep with thoughts of you.

~~~

November 2019

Making his way through the busy airport, Shawn was the happiest he had been in a long while. A large smile grew on his face as he saw you waiting for him by the baggage claim. He ran up to you and engulfed you in a large hug. Holding you tightly, he spun you around as you laughed.

“God, I’ve missed you so much.” Shawn said, setting you down and keeping his arms around your waist.

“I’ve missed you too.” You barely managed to get your words out before he kissed you passionately. You let out a small moan and pulled away from the kiss for a moment, “Shawn, paparazzi.”

“I think I’m completely justified in kissing my girlfriend.” He stated, letting go of your hips to hold your hand.

“You are, but I’d rather not give the paparazzi exactly what they want.” You teased.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” Shawn joked with a wink, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. Soon enough, the bags began to surface from the plane, and Shawn grabbed his luggage, ready to leave the airport. You held tightly onto Shawn’s hand as you left the airport, escorted by Shawn’s small security team through the swarm of paparazzi. 

Once back in the safety of your townhouse, you and Shawn found yourselves cuddling on your bed as Shawn was exhausted from his day of traveling. With your head resting on his chest, you listened to the sound of his heartbeat; his hands trailed up and down your back soothingly. The serene moment was disrupted by Shawn’s phone ringing.

“Needed already?” You teased as he shuffled slightly underneath you to answer his phone.

“They never let me rest.” Shawn joked, answering the call. You shifted to rest your head on his bicep so it’d be easier for him to speak. “Hello?”

“Hey, Shawn,” Your ears perked up from hearing your sister’s voice on the other line. Shawn looked down at you as you raised your eyebrows questioningly at him.

“Taylor, what’s up?” He asked, trying to inconspicuously turn down the volume. You felt his heartbeat speed up and you knew he was trying to hide something about the phone call from you. You couldn’t make out what your sister told him, but he replied back with a few ‘yeah's' and ‘that’d be incredible’. He hung up the phone and peered over at you, as you watched him expectantly.

“So, what did Taylor want?” You questioned.

“We may or may not have made a collaboration.” Shawn replied.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yep.” He nodded, his fingers finding yours. He was nervous about something, which only made you more curious. You were about to press further, when his stomach let out a large growl.

“Have you not eaten at all today or something?”

“I think I had a bagel mid-flight.” Shawn said. You sat up and pulled him up with you.

“You need to eat, come on.” You stated, now distracted by making sure your boyfriend was fed. As you got him together some leftovers for lunch, he began to play music. You let out a laugh as Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” began to play.

“Remember when I surprised you for our three year?” Shawn asked, his hands on your hips as he swayed softly to the music. He began to press light kisses to your neck.

“Remember how you almost burned your hand with a candle?” You teased.

“Hm, I must’ve blocked that out.” He laughed, giving you a kiss on your lips before going back to focusing on your neck.

“Shawn, why are you being so touchy, right now?” You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a giggle as his stubble tickled your sensitive neck.

“I just really love you.” He replied.

“I love you too, Shawn.” You lightly pushed him away as the microwave finished. You handed him his plate of food, telling him to eat. He ate the food so quickly, you would have thought that he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“So, what’s this collaboration with Taylor all about? I hope you know that you’re an awful liar.” You said.

“Well, I wanted to surprise you.” Shawn answered, “But I have a feeling you won’t let this drop.” “You know me so well.” You smiled.

“Come here,” Shawn led you to your living room and you sat on the couch while he grabbed one of your guitars. He went into ‘performance mode’, as you liked to call it. He teased, “I’d like to dedicate this next song to my lover.”

You laughed and clapped along in encouragement. You softly smiled as he began to play the beginning of “Lover”. He sang the first verse, and you grew a little confused; he was simply singing your song. As much as you loved it, it felt like a cover. That was until he got to the second verse. You felt overwhelmed with emotions as he adjusted the lyrics to fit with his own memories of your relationship. By the end of the song, you had tears in your eyes, feeling nothing but love for your boyfriend.

“Did you like it?” Shawn asked, putting down the guitar.

“I love it.” You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I’m so glad you like it. I was nervous because you already made the song so perfect. I wanted to write you my own love letter through it. You deserve the best, so that’s all I could hope for.” You cut him off with another kiss, effectively stopping his worried rambling.

“That’s the most thoughtful, beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me. And Shawn, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me too.” It was then that Shawn true happiness, in the arms of you, his lover.

[fanfics4all]

The Piano Man

Request: Yes / No 

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 3999

Warnings: TALK OF RAPE I will not be tagging anyone but do not read if you are triggered by rape! (This is based on season seven episode 12)

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

A long time ago I used to live in Houston. That was a part of my life that I never wanted to return to. But now, it looks like I had no choice. I had joined the BAU team in the FBI and our case was back in my hometown. 

“So Houston PD needs our boots on the ground for the Piano Man case.” Garcia said and I silently gulped. 

“The serial rapist?” Morgan asked. 

“A case we consulted on about eight months ago. Twelve victims over five years.” Hotch said and he glanced at me. He knew that I was one of those women that he had hurt, he was the only one that knew. Not even my boyfriend of one year knew, I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone else. Hotch needed to know because it came up on my psych eval, but that was the only reason. The local PD didn’t even know, I never reported it because I was scared… 

“He crosses racial and social lines, ages too.” He added and kept glancing at me, I knew the others noticed as well. 

“Power assertive?” Prentiss asked. 

“Knocks them out with a date rape drug, and binds them with piano wire…” Rossi said. 

“They wake up with no memory of the assault or how they got the permanent scar the wire leaves.” I said, managing to keep my voice leveled. 

“So he’s branding his victims. How does he dose them?” Prentiss asked. 

“Houston PD still isn’t sure ‘cause, you know, date rape drugs metabolize quickly, and he’s keeping them for twelve hours.” Penelope answered before I could say anything. To be fair, I have no memory of how he drugged me, so even I didn’t know. 

“So why are they calling us in now?” Morgan asked. 

“Because of these most recent attacks. This piece of work has elevated sick and twisted to a whole new dimension. Cases in point- Brittany Anderson filed a report after she woke up outside the restaurant she was abducted from, and Vanessa Campbell was just reported missing.” Penelope answered and my eyes widened. 

“Wait, those were victims two and five, weren’t they?” Spencer asked. 

“Yes. He’s going back and attacking survivors a second time.” Penelope confirmed. 

“Vanessa was grabbed from her house? He’s changing his M.O. from what we studied. He’s upping his game.” JJ said. 

“Well, we know he stalks them. But public venue abduction, he has the power. Home invasion, he’s on their turf.” Morgan said. 

“So he’s betting he can gain control before they get to a phone or a gun.” Spencer said. 

“The question is why? What is he getting from revisiting old victims?” Rossi asked. 

“It seems careless for someone who’s been so controlled up to now.” Hotch said. 

“What is this? On the floor?” Prentiss asked.

“Uh, that- oh, God, that is the contents of Vanessa Campbell’s stomach, which she ralphed up.” Penelope answered. 

“And in the glass?” Prentiss asked. 

“According to the police report, it is salt and water.” Penelope answered. 

“Homemade emetic.” Prentiss said. 

“E-what what?” Penelope asked. 

“Quick and dirty cocktail meant to induce vomiting.” Rossi answered. 

“Vanessa Campbell and her husband moved to a new address. They’ve put locks on the doors. They took precautions. She even knew what to do if she was dosed again, and it still wasn’t enough. That’s what he gets out of it.” Prentiss explained. 

“Their fear. He wants them to know that no matter what, he can still get to them.” Hotch said and I felt a chill run up my spine. 

Everyone was getting ready to get on the jet. I gathered my stuff up and headed to the jet early. I walked on and saw Hotch sitting there alone. 

“Hey.” I said. 

“Y/N, I’m glad you’re here. Sit.” He said motioning to the seat in front of him. 

“I don’t want you to go on the case.” He said and my eyes widened.

“Hotch, I’m fine.” I said and he shook his head.

“No, you’re not. You are too involved with this case.” He said and I shook my head. 

“This man is the reason I studied so hard for this job, I want to catch people like him and now I have the chance to catch this son of a bitch. Please don’t take that away from me.” I said and he started at me for a few minutes. 

“He’ll try and come after you.” He said and I nodded. 

“I know the risks, but Hotch I can promise you I’m okay. I’m not gonna let him scare me.” I said and he sighed. 

“Fine, but you listen to what I tell you and don’t try and find him on your own.” He said and I nodded. 

“I promise.” I said, although I knew I might not be able to keep it all that well. Hotch and Rossi were talking with the chief and JJ and Prentiss were interviewing the victims. Reid Morgan and I were sent to the latest crime scene. 

“Does Vanessa smoke?” Spencer asked her husband. 

“Yes, Vanessa smokes. What does it matter?” He asked. 

“It might explain how the unsub is drugging these women.” Spencer said and my eyes widened slightly. Thank God I quit. 

“The media has done a very good job of warning people to watch their drinks so that bars are no longer a fertile hunting ground, but cigarette smokers aren’t as careful. They might ask to have a cigarette from a stranger, or have their pack swapped out of their purse when they put it down and then unknowingly inhale PCP or scopolamine, both of which mimic the effects of date rape drugs.” Spencer rambled, it honestly was always so cute to me, but now wasn’t the time to be thinking that.

“She hid them in her purse. She didn’t think I knew. She cracked the windows so I wouldn’t smell it when I got home.” Mr. Campbell said. 

“You know, if the unsub stalked her from the backyard, he’d have a good view when she lit up.” Spencer said. 

“He also took out the window with something like a center punch.” Morgan said. 

“What’s that?” Mr. Campbell asked. 

“It’s a spring-loaded device used to punch divots into metal. It also breaks glass.” I explained as Spencer walked off towards the kitchen. 

“No cigarettes. He must have taken them with him to hide the evidence.” Spencer said while looking through her purse. 

“You know, it might not be all he’s trying to hide.” Morgan said. 

“What do you mean?” I asked him. 

“Mr. Campbell, was this on when you came home?” He asked. 

“The police told me not to touch anything.” Mr. Campbell answered. 

“Well, you sure got a lot of MP3s on here.” Morgan said scrolling through them. 

“Was it playing one of them?” He asked. 

“No. Why?” Mr. Campbell asked.

“The media center keeps a history of the last twenty songs that were played, but either you don’t listen to any of them or someone erased it.” I said catching on to what Morgan was thinking. 

“It wasn’t me.” Mr. Campbell said. 

“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan said, pulling out his phone. 

“Whatcha need?” She answered. 

“Hey, there’s an MP3 player in the Campbell house, can you tell me anything about the erased history?” Morgan asked. 

“Okay, I can’t tell you who deleted that playback list, but I can tell you exactly when the log was cleared. 7:43 P.M..” She said. 

“Why erase a history of someone else’s music?” Spencer asked. 

“Because he didn’t erase someone else’s music. At 7:36, he loaned an MPS via USB drive, played it, and promptly deleted it.” She said, showing us on the Campbell’s T.V..

“Cleared the history so he could cover up his tracks.” She added. 

“The unsub brought his own music to an abduction?” I asked confused. 

“Yes, he did, and that is creepy. Fortunately, whatever is imported onto this computer downloaded the home network, so, ladies and gentlemen, the mystery song of Mr. Gruesome is…” She said and the music started playing. “That’s specific.” Spencer said. 

“That’s another reason to call this guy the piano man.” Morgan said. 

“Turn it off. Please.” Mr. Campbell said. Morgan turned it off.

“Does this song mean something to you or your wife?” Spencer asked.

“Vanessa hates it.” Mr. Campbell said and I gulped. 

“How come?” Morgan asked. 

“I don’t know. She doesn’t know. But every time it came on the radio, she’d burst into tears.” Mr. Campbell explained.

“So the unsub just happened to play it the night he came after her.” Morgan said. 

We got back and JJ and Prentiss brought the woman back in to see if they had songs that triggered them too. All of us were in the room the local PD had set up for us and looked at all the songs these women now hated. 

“Lady in Red, Up Where We Belong, Glory of Love. Each victim has her own piano ballad.” JJ said. 

“You know, considering the survivors lose consciousness during the rape, we think this functions as the unsub’s signature. He most likely plays the songs repeatedly during the assault, resulting in pavlovian response when they heard it later, sort of a subconscious rape trigger.” Spencer said. 

“The night of Vanessa Campbell’s abduction, that signature became part of his torture.” Rossi said. Hotch looked at me and I shook my head. 

“We need to know.” He said and everyone looked at me. 

“No.” I said. 

“Know what?” Spencer asked confused. 

“Y/N is one of the victims from the first time.” Hotch said. 

“Hotch!” I said and I felt everyone looking at me in shock. 

“So, what song is it?” He asked and I looked away from everyone. 

“Endless Love…” I said.

“So, why these songs? What do they say about him?” Hotch asked, but before anyone could say anything more his phone rang. 

“Go ahead, Morgan.” Hotch said. 

“We just found Vanessa Campbell’s body. He didn’t even bother hiding it.” He said and my eyes widened. 

“How long has she been dead?” Hotch asked. 

“Maybe five hours.” He answered. 

“He’s never killed before…” I said. 

“Are we sure it’s our unsub?” Spencer asked, he was clearly worried. 

“He used a piano wire as a garrote.” Morgan answered. 

“Alright, Morgan, you come back here, I’ll go to the coroner's office once they’ve looked her over.” Hotch said and hung up. 

“Keep working.” Hotch said and pulled me out of the room. 

“You need to go back home now.” He said and I shook my head. 

“I’m not going anywhere until he’s behind bars.” I said, standing my ground. 

“Y/N this is serious, he’s getting more confident, you need to leave.” He said. 

“Hotch is right Y/N.” Spencer said coming out of the room. 

“I’ll give you two some time to talk.” Hotch said and went back into the room. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked. 

“Because I wanted to forget about it. Hotch is the only one that knew because of my psych eval.” I said not meeting his eyes. 

“I can help you.” He said, gently touching my arms. 

“Spence, there’s nothing to help. The only thing I need to do is to catch him.” I said. He gently guided my eyes to look at his.

“I understand, but this is dangerous for you, he could try and come after you now and what if he kills you? I can’t lose you…” He said with tears in his eyes. 

“I promised Hotch I wouldn’t go looking for him alone and as hard as it is to keep that promise, I need to. Because if I ever see him again, I will kill him.” I said and Spencer’s eyes widened, but he saw the tears in my eyes. 

“I can’t let him get away with this again.” I said and a tear slid down my cheek. Spencer pulled me to him and held me close. 

“Just stay with me okay? I can tell Hotch that we need to stay together, I can protect you.” He said and I smiled. 

“You know, I think that’ll be better for the both of us.” I said and he smiled back. 

“I love you.” He whispered. 

“I love you too, now let’s get back to doing our job.” I said, but he stopped me. 

“There’s nothing I can do to convince you to go home?” He asked and I smiled slightly. 

“You know there’s not.” I said and he sighed, but nodded. 

We walked back in the room and Hotch said the three of us were going to the morgue. So we hopped in a car and headed there. They didn’t have too much to look over apparently. 

“Tissue inflammation is consistent with inhalation of some sort of drug. I can’t tell what yet.” The doctor told us. 

“And the ligature marks?” Hotch asked. 

“Same as before. New wounds on top of old scars.” The doctor said holding up the hand and I felt myself reach for my own wrists. 

“No sexual assault, though. Possibly because she regained consciousness at some point and fought back.” He added. 

“She doesn’t show any signs of defensive wounds.” Spencer commented. 

“No, but I did fish this out of her trachea.” The doctor said handing Spencer a bag. 

“Neoprene?” I asked. 

“From a glove. My best guess is she bit him.” The doctor said. 

“Not enough to break the skin, unfortunately.” He added. 

“An exam glove?” Hotch asked. 

“Most likely.” The doctor answered. 

“Actually, it’s a surgical glove. A little bit thicker than an exam glove. If he was wearing neoprene, it means he has an allergy to latex.” Spencer said. 

“I’ll have Garcia check hospital records.” Hotch said and left the room. 

“Thank you doctor.” I said and Spencer and I followed Hotch out. 

When we got back to the PD Hotch told Spencer and I to take a little break. I objected at first, but he said it was an order so we took a walk around the block. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” I said grabbing Spencer’s hand. 

“I understand why you didn’t.” He said. 

“I can hear him still you know…” I said and he looked at me confused. 

“What?” He asked. 

“He sang the song, I remember his voice. I was new to smoking so I wasn’t used to it yet. I was out with some friends and I went to smoke alone, when I tasted it, it tasted off so I got rid of it, but I blacked out after. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I could hear that song and him singing it…” I admitted. 

“We need to go back.” Spencer said and grabbed my hand. We ran back as fast as we could and we saw everyone sitting at a table. 

“Hey you guys are back, we got a suspect.” JJ said and we looked at her confused. 

“Y/N remembers his voice.” Spencer said and everyone’s eyes widened. 

“Let’s go, Prentiss you try and get him to talk. Hotch said and the four of us walked towards the investigation room. Emily went inside and started playing to his fantasies. 

“It’s not him.” I said. 

“He’s definitely assaulted Dianna though.” Prentiss said. 

“Arrest him for that, but he’s not the man that raped me.” I said and walked out of the room. 

“How can Herman Scodie not be the piano man? We’ve got the medical gloves, the medical record he pulled.” Rossi asked. We were all gathered in the room, after Hotch had sent JJ, Spencer, and Morgan to go check his house anyway. 

“The taunt he said to Diana Mitchell, he repeated to us.” Prentiss said. 

“Well, Scobie definitely assaulted Diana the second time. He’s probably re-victimizing all of the survivors.” JJ said. 

“But apply the profile to Herman Scobie, and look at what’s different. There’s no piano wire, and there’s no song played.” Morgan said. 

“You think there are two unsubs, the piano man and a copycat?” Hotch asked. 

“A copycat studies the original unsub in order to learn. Herman Scobie’s a doppelganger.” Spencer said. 

“He’s trying to pass himself off as the piano man.” I said. 

“Why?” Rossi asked. 

“Convenience, maybe. If he assaults the piano man’s survivors, they’re less likely to reach out to the police.” Morgan said. 

“And if they do, the women claim it was the piano man. No one thinks to look at hospital orderlies.” JJ added.

“So who killed Vanessa Campbell, the piano man or Scobie?” Hotch asked. 

“It’s a lay-up. Same neoprene glove in her throat as we found in Scobie’s van.” Rossi answered. 

“There’s something odd about that too, though. If Vanessa swallowed this it would be scarred by digestive acids. I mean, even if it got caught in her trachea as he choked her out, gastric reflux would be evident, but there isn’t any.” Spencer said. 

“So the unsub placed that in her throat postmortem.” I said. 

“Which unsub?” Prentiss asked. 

“He used the piano wire, he played the song, it must be the piano man.” Morgan said. 

“So he plants a piece of evidence to frame Scobie.” Rossi said. 

“Okay, let me get this straight. The piano man is trying to convince us that Scobie is responsible for all of these crimes.” Prentiss said. 

“And if these two have studied each other this closely, then Scobie is the key to finding the piano man.” Hotch said. 

“His lawyer’s here. Scobie’s not gonna talk to us.” JJ said. 

“He will when he finds out he’s been set up.” Hotch said. 

“Let me talk to him.” I said and everyone looked at me. 

“No way.” Hotch said. 

“If he’s studied the piano man he’ll know who I am. He’ll want to talk to me.” I said and Spencer shook his head. 

“No, we can’t let you do that.” He said. 

“Fine. I’ll go in with you. That’s the only way.” Hotch said and I nodded. 

“Hotch, you’re serious about this?” Spencer asked shocked. 

“She’s right, if he knows who she is then it might put him on edge.” He answered. 

“Let’s go.” He added and we walked inside. Herman and his lawyer looked up at us and I noticed Herman’s eyes flash with realization. 

“My client has nothing to say.” His lawyer said. 

“Good. We’d rather he listen anyway.” Hotch said. 

“You’re going away fro rape. The question is whether you’ll let your competition hang Vanessa Campbell’s murder on you as well.” I said. 

“I didn’t kill her.” Herman said. 

“I didn’t even touch her.” He added. 

“Herman.” His lawyer warned. 

“From what you’ve told us, we know exactly what you think of these women.” Hotch said. 

“You don’t need to kill them.” I said speaking as if I wasn’t one of them. 

“They’re not worth that much effort to you.” I said and he never took his eyes off me. 

“But the piano man can’t take that risk. When he’d heard what you’d done, he killed Vanessa Campbell.” Hotch said. 

“He went back to an old victim, just like you, but then he places a piece of neoprene down her throat. Does that sound like an accident?” I asked and he glared at me. 

“He’s setting you up.” I added. 

“I need to discuss this with my client.” The lawyer said. 

“No, he talks to us now, or he takes his chances with a jury.” Hotch said. 

“What do you want to know?” Herman asked, eyes still never leaving mine. 

“Who is he?” I asked and he smirked. 

“You should know, I know who you are.” He said leaning forward towards me. 

“His unknown victim. The one that didn’t report him.” He said.

“Who is he?” Hotch asked again. 

“I never met him. I just read about what he did in the hospital records.” He said looking up at me. 

“You were the only one that didn’t report him, but you came in with the same marks as those other women.” He said, looked at me again. 

“The weird thing though, I had three chicks picked out to do next. I was gonna start with Vanessa, but… He got to her first.” Herman said. 

“Who was the other ones?” Hotch asked. 

“Regina Lampert and Y/N Y/L/N.” He answered. 

“You’re going away for a long time.” I said and walked out of the room. Spencer grabbed me and pulled me to him. 

“It’s okay.” He whispered and kissed my head. We all met in the room and tried calling Regina. 

“Okay, guys, regina Lampert is not answering her phone, and I found something hinky on her, which I’m sending to your tablets.” Garcia said. 

“Alright, Garcia, what are we looking at?” Hotch asked. 

“It’s a surveillance video from the bar that Regina Lampert works at. Do you see the guy she’s talking to?” She asked.

“PLaying the piano. He’s taunting her.” Rossi said. 

“She knows it too. Look at her body language.” Hotch said. 

“Watch what happens when I fast-forward to closing time.” Garcia said and sped up the video. 

“She seems to warm up to him.” I said. 

“And then, watch this.” She said and the video changed to a different angle. 

“Garcia, freeze it right there.” Hotch said. 

“Look at her face. No, she doesn’t. She set herself up as bait.” Hotch said. 

“Credit card says that the guy at the piano is Hamilton Bartholomew. This is what I know, his wife just filed a missing persons report on him this morning. She directed me to some job he just applied for, so I got a background check from that where they did his fingerprints.” She said. 

“Alright, Garcia, pull Regina Lampert’s rape kit and cross-reference the prints found with Bartholomew’s, and see if you get a match. We need to get to her house.” Hotch said. 

“Sending her address to your GPS.” She said and then we hung up. We all left to get to her house. 

“Garcia, did she pick up?” Hotch asked, answering the phone. 

“No, but we did just get a 911 call from her house, and it is freaking weird.” Garcia said and then started playing the call. 

“911 operator. What’s your emergency?” A lady asked. 

“Hello?” She asked when no one said anything. 

“My name is Hamilton Bartholomew. I’m being held captive by a lunatic!” He said then a gunshot went off. 

“She took the piano man captive?” Prentiss asked. 

“Unless he’s not the piano man. I mean think about it. Would the piano man call us to rescue him?” Morgan asked. 

“She could be shooting at the wrong guy.” Rossi said. 

“No, it’s him.” I said. 

“What?” Spencer asked. 

“That’s his voice… I know it.” I said. 

“The lab just confirmed, it’s him.” Prentiss said. We pulled up to the house and everyone got out. 

“Y/N you stay out here, that’s an order.” Hotch said and I knew there was no fighting this on. 

“As long as I’m the one that puts the cuffs on him.” I said and Hotch nodded. They went in and Spencer stayed out here with me. Hotch and Prentiss came out with both of them and Hotch handed him to me. 

“Hamilton bartholomew, you’re under arrest for the rapes of thirteen women and the murder of Vanessa Campbell.” Hotch said and I put the cuffs on him. 

“It’s you…” He said to me. 

“I’m gonna make sure you stay in jail for the rest of your damn life.” I growled at him. Hotch took him from me and Spencer came up and held me tightly. 

“Should have let her pull the trigger.” I said. 

“Come on baby, let’s just go.” Spencer said and took me to the car. 

“He’s never gonna see light again, you know that.” He said. 

“But he’s still alive…” I said. 

“And I’ll be here for you, whatever you need.” He said and held me close. 

[hexcodesarecool]

Unexpected Feelings ( Benory )

  The first 'normal' night the fang gang had been able to get since starting high school was a random Friday in November, there was no curse or plight, nothing going bump in the night, no villain threatening the town. It should have been a good thing. Except that Ethan and Sarah had taken the opportunity to see a movie together and Erica was on a 'date' of her own. Which left Rory and Benny to hang out alone. Not all that bad, if you ask them, they haven't had the chance to razz on some crappy romance movie in a while. They all have the same plot line, truly.  Big city woman needs to go off on an adventure for some reason, she falls in love with small town boy, some drama surrounding the ex boyfriend and/or her job ensues, but eventually they end up together. It's always the same thing. 

        This movie was no different until a gay couple showed up, a well-written one, too. They weren't there to be the butt of some joke. A gay couple written to actually seem like humans. An unprecedented circumstance in a supposedly-shitty romance movie that the boys didn't really know how to process. And, obviously, when in doubt, joke it out. "Dude, if we were gay would you let me put my bed next to yours in Minecraft.", Benny spoke with a short laugh before coming to a still. Terrible joke aside, he was actually thinking about it now. It wouldn't be that bad, people are generally more accepting now.  Grandma would certainly accept him. The warlock shifted uncomfortably, stealing a glance at his friend, who seemed to be following the same thought process.

        "Well . .", Benny's voice came to a quick pause, "we're out of popcorn !" He hopped up, grabbing the long since emptied bowl as an excuse to make a quick exit. 

        Rory was a little more than confused, but that's normal, he supposes. He is a teenager after all. His hormones have to be all over the place. Not comforting for a vampire but comforting when you're questioning your sexuality. After a moment of silent debate he got up from his spot on the bed and walked in to the kitchen where Benny was, hopping up on a counter. He stared at him quietly, knowing the other teen could probably feel the way his stare bore in to the back of head. Subtlety has never been, and will likely never be, his specialty, contrary to his self-proclaimed moniker of "Vampire Ninja". The warlock turned to face his friend, leaning back against the edge of the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. The unease in the air was palpable.

        "So." Benny spoke quietly, gaze affixed to the floor.

        "So."

        "Are we . . going to talk about that ?"

        "I don't know, Ben. Are we ?"

        "Rory, dude, bro. Dude bro. It was- it was nothing. Just some dumb joke. We're not gay. I mean, I'm not gay. I'm not gay.  I like girls, I know that I like girls. And you do, too, right ? I mean, I've seen the way you follow Erica around." 

        There was a short period of silence, the only thing keeping them from going crazy was the sound of the kernels popping over the microwave's hum. There was still an obvious discomfort between the boys. They were both afraid that delving further in to this topic may bring unwanted repercussions. But, one of them would have to speak eventually.

        "I, actually," Rory nervously cleared his throat, "I've been thinking recently, that maybe I don't just like girls. I keep looking at other boys, and . . I'm not really sure. I can't help but think it wouldn't be horrible to kiss of them, you know ?"

        "I do know, yeah. Probably more than you would think."

        Benny just looked at Rory for a while, the knot of nerves tying itself up tightly in the pit of his stomach. Logically, he knows that there's not reason for him to be so nervous. Rory just admitted he's been unsure of his own sexuality, he wasn't going to suddenly flip out on him. They're friends, and they trusted each other. The warlock pushed off the counter and began to pace around the kitchen as he spoke.

        "I kissed a boy the summer before eighth grade. We were at a sleep-away camp and we were buddies, so if one of us had to leave the cabin for any reason, we had to be together. Uhm. It was late, and everyone was sleeping. So he woke me up to go to the bathroom. He actually just wanted to be out of the cabin, the heat, it made him panic, I guess. Not the point. Anyway, we were standing in the bathroom and we looked at each other. It was like what happens in movies. My heart sped up and my stomach did gymnastics, I could breathe but I almost . . didn't want to ? Like I would break something. And we kissed. It was short, we'd heard other boys walking our way, but I'm pretty sure I heard some cheesy 80s love ballad in the back of my head."

        Benny's pacing only ceased when his friend grabbed his wrist, he hadn't even noticed Rory get off the counter. His skin had grown cold since he turned, but the cool of his fingers against Benny's wrist was a welcome contrast to his own warmth. The vampire used that same hold to pull his friend closer. And they looked in each other's eyes. They looked for what felt like forever, but was probably only seven seconds. Rory could hear how fast his  heart was beating, and had he not felt as though laughing would have ruined the moment, he certainly would have let out a chuckle;  just to ease his worries. Benny wasn't doing much better, he was sure his stomach was doing something akin to Evgeniya Kanaeva's 2012 Olympic ball routine.

        Their eyes closed as they moved their faces closer, their giggly jitters becoming more and more prominent until they finally met at the lips. It was exciting and comfortable at the same time, a perfect mix of new and familiar. The few seconds they spent before separating was enough to boil their anxieties down to smiles and nervous laughter. A simple act of affection that would eventually bring up more questions than the two boys would like, but, for now, it brought them worlds of comfort.  Benny made an 'ahem' noise to get Rory's attention, a smile much sweeter than his usual plastered on his face. 

        "So," he began, "About that Minecraft bed."

        Rory couldn't help but laugh, wearing a smile in similar fashion to Benny's. 

        This was a good movie night.

[avmisworld]

BTS when they say ‘I Love You’:

Kim Seokjin:

Since you started dating, your boyfriend had probably spent countless hours of your time together making you food.

Seokjin was always in the kitchen, making you your favorite dishes when you were in your period, comfort food when you were sad, and just food in general.

You had no complaints, obviously, but you still wished you could someday cook Jin something he deserved, and not a burnt egg or something like that.

And now was the perfect time. Because it was your half-year anniversary today, and also your first date with Jin after weeks of him promoting BTS' new hit single: Dynamite.

You were feeling determined today, the need to satisfy you and your boyfriend's appetite, hopefully without burning down the kitchen and adding another funny memory to Jin's growing list.

You tie your hair into a ponytail, making sure none of the long strands somehow manage to escape into the food, and wash your hands for the hundredth time, staring at the lit up screen of your phone with concentration.

The recipe was pretty simple, you suppose. It had a lot of ingredients for sure, which caused you a small heart-attack when you first read it, but there weren't too many instructions.

You've watched Jin make Naengmyeon countless times, considering it was one of his favorite foods, and you've even helped him a few times (usually it was just Jin sending you to bring things from the refrigerator to make you feel hopeful).

'Just do as the recipe says', you think to yourself, before starting the TV and switching the channel to one of the many music channels available.

Jin was supposed to be home around nine, which meant you had plenty of time to get the food ready, clean the house and set up the romantic setting for your date.

You dance around the kitchen as you prepare the dish, bobbing your head to some unknown ballad playing on the TV, and follow the steps written on your phone.

After two hours of running around the kitchen, you collapse against the marble of your kitchen counter, letting your head fall and rest against the cold surface.

The kitchen looks like hell, the counter entirely covered with scraps of vegetables and powder from the various spices you used. The floor is covered with sparkling grains of sugar, a result of you running frantically to the other side of the kitchen with an open sack of sugar in your hands.

You look pretty bad as well, your simple gray cotton shorts covered with soy sauce, the top of your black t-shirt littered with grains of salt. Your hair was barely restrained, long strands framing the side of your face, sticking to your skin thanks to the heat in the kitchen.

But none of that matters, not when there is a small pot filled to the brim with Mul Naengmyeon, the perfect amount for two people, almost identical to Jin's, but still somehow your own.

* It's after another four hours of cleaning the house, organizing it, and getting ready yourself, that everything is finally ready.

You tug nervously at the hem of your sleeveless peach midi dress, still not used to wearing clothes this tight, but Jimin had assured you Jin will love this dress and the nude lace up heels you matched it with.

Your apartment is also unbelievably organized, the air around you smelling like roses and homemade food, the floor and the kitchen spotless, even the pillows on the couch set in place carefully.

It was currently 8:45, so Jin was supposed to be here any minute now. The thought was so distracting you couldn't even get yourself to pick up your phone, staring at the oak door of your apartment instead.

Despite anticipating his arrival, you can't help but jump slightly when the knock on the door finally comes, clearing your throat as you get up from the couch.

"Who is it?", you ask as you approach the door, a smile making its way to your face when you open it, to be met with the smiling face of your boyfriend.

Jin looks handsome, wearing a crisp white shirt tucked into black dress pants, matched with bluish-black blazer. His hair, almost long enough to reach his shoulders, is pushed away from his forehead, showing off his sharp eyebrows and endless dark eyes.

"You look handsome", you say honestly, blushing slightly and averting your eyes from Jin's striking black ones, who smirks slightly at your embarrassment.

"I know", he responds, just as honestly as you, and you snort, shaking your head when your boyfriend leans in and pecks your lips sweetly, his warm hand cupping your cheek before pulling back.

"You look amazing, too, though.", Jin says with a grin, pushing your hair behind your ear, "That dress is gorgeous. And your face is not bad, either.", he adds, a teasing tone in his voice.

"Why, thank you, my dear boyfriend", you say sarcastically, leading Jin into the house, your hands intertwined, fingers laced together.

Before your boyfriend can answer, probably another funny comment that'll lead to more bickering, you hear his breath get caught in his throat.

"Wow", pride fills you when you hear Jin's admiring voice, and you shoot him a glance, smiling when you see his wide eyes and open mouth.

You had set up the table perfectly, with a clean white tablecloth, shiny silverware, wine glasses and silk napkins included, and a bottle of your best wine.

"Wait for it", you say to your boyfriend mischievously, seating him down in one of the leather chairs standing by the table, before rushing to the kitchen, your heels making tapping sounds against the parquet floor.

You bring the pot of cold noodles back with you, enjoying Jin's face of shock at the sight of his all time favorite meal.

"I made it myself", you say, not even trying to hide the pride lacing your voice, and Jin stares at you with disbelief, shaking his head.

"This is… This is so…", you giggle when Jin stumbles over his words, a bit taken a back yourself by how much your boyfriend liked the surprise.

But you didn't expect Seokjin to stand up from his chair, winding his arms around and causing you to let out a shriek of surprise as he hugs you to him, pressing kisses all over your face, your eyes, lips, cheeks, forehead, just anywhere he can reach.

"I love you", he whispers when he finally pulls back, his hands still resting on your waist, thumbs stroking your hipbones and his forehead pressed against yours.

You feel your heart burst, and you smile so hard you're pretty sure you might rip your face, before you surge forward, kissing Seokjin again, so deep it makes both of you dizzy, gasping for air when you finally pull away.

"I love you, too", you smile, your nose brushing Jin's ever so gently when he chuckles, the vibration echoing against your conjoined chests.

"This will be really awkward if the food isn't tasty, though.", You say suddenly, and Jin laughs even harder, hugging you tighter to his chest.

Min Yoongi:

Dealing with depression was something you suffered from your whole life, since sixth grade. Insecurities that eventually formed into anxiety and led to sleepless nights and pillows wet from your tears.

Since you started dating Yoongi seven months ago, your mental state improved drastically. As someone who suffered from depression himself, Suga seemed to understand you without a hint of judgement, and his soft words helped you greatly when it came to your self-esteem.

Still, there were episodes. Times when the darkness came crawling back to you, swallowing you whole and blocking every piece of light trying to penetrate it. Even your favorite gummy smile and shiny eyes.

You tuck the blanket around you even tighter, bending your legs so you're curled up, hearing the beating of your own heart against your ears.

The humming of the air conditioner in the room is a constant sound in your ear by now, and you wonder how much time you've been hiding in the safe confines of your queen sized bed.

It feels like years, but maybe it's just because you miss your boyfriend so much. You haven't told Yoongi anything about your current 'episode', so he probably assumes you're working like any other day.

A knock on the door jerks you awake from your dreamlike state, and you stare at the exit to your room, the open hallway taunting you silently.

You stare at the door, shocked and slightly fearful. Nobody was supposed to come to your apartment, at least no one that you know of.

Sitting up in your bed, you throw the blanket off your body, hesitation filling you. The room reeks of misery, the blinds on the windows drawn down so no light streams through the glass, the only light coming from the flat TV leaning against the wall, airing some action movie you didn't recognize.

You frown when the knocking against your door continues without a break. Whoever this is, he definitely wasn't giving up, and it was pissing you off.

After a few more seconds, you give in, mumbling profanities under your breath, and get up from your bed, your sock-clad feet silent against the parqeut floor of your apartment.

You pad out of the room, entering the hallway slowly, and feel your heart clench painfully in your chest at the sight of your reflection in the mirrors hanging on the wall.

You look horrible, considering you haven't left your bedroom for two days, not even to eat or take a shower. Your hair is messy, dark curls framing your face in random directions. Your eyes are outlined with dark circles, so deep they look imprinted in your face, and they're bloodshot and red from hours of crying.

You look thin, thinner than usual, your cheeks almost disappearing and the bones in your face popping out. The black trainers and the loose white tank top you're wearing hang on your body loosely, and the smell clinging to you isn't great, either.

You walk to the door slowly, where the knocking still hasn't stopped, and curse yourself once again for not having an eyehole installed in the door, something incredibly useful in moments like this.

"Who is it?", You ask, wincing at the sound of your own voice. Your throat is sore after not using it for so long, and there is sorrow outlining every word coming out of your mouth, like each word is weighing you down.

"It's me, Y/N. Open the door.", The voice on the other side is one you immediately know, a voice that only brings back good memories, of gentle laughter and soft music and kisses that melt away your pain like hot water, but you still step away from the door, feeling panic spread through your chest. He can't see you like this. No way.

"Go away, Yoongi. Please.", you whisper, hugging yourself until you can feel your rapid breathing, like a balloon about to pop.

"I just came to give you something.", Suga says, voice calm and steady, but you can hear the familiar tone, the one that told you that there is no way he'll leave before he sees you. "Come on. I'll leave right after if you want."

You breath slowly, feeling tears rise in your eyes. You knew you can't get rid of Yoongi, and that was a quality you always loved and appreciated, his power of will, but now it seemed to be coming back to bite you in the ass.

After another moment of silence, you unlock the door slowly, hearing the click of the lock opening before twisting the doorknob carefully, and opening the door slightly.

Yoongi looks like home, even when you're in your apartment. His soft black hair you love to run your finger through, his dark eyes you could spend hours looking at, the fair skin that seemed to glow even during the darkest nights, the smile you knew was saved for you, even if it was currently filled with worry.

He's wearing simple blue basketball shorts, and a loose black tee, the huge ones he has millions of in his closet, and his white sneakers are tapping against each other nervously as he sees you.

"Hey", he whispers softly, careful not to scare you. "Can I come in?", His eyes are studying you, watching your every move when you nod silently after thinking for a while, opening the door slowly.

Yoongi makes his way into your apartment, and after you close the door behind him he reaches forward to hand you something you didn't notice he was holding.

It was one of your sweaters, a huge purple one with the words 'angel' on it in big white block letters, the kind of sweater you continually forget at Suga's apartment when you come over.

"I came to your work to give it you, but apparently you didn't come for the last two days.", your boyfriend explains himself quickly as you take the sweater from his hands, and you feel warmth fill you up when he you notice his voice isn't filled with the slightest bit of anger that you didn't bother to tell him you weren't going to work this week, like any good girlfriend would do.

"Thank you" , you whisper, biting your lip when a silence fills the air around the two of you, and you wonder how could you be such a horrible person, a selfish girlfriend, who hides from her own boyfriend and forces him sick with worry.

You don't deserve Yoongi, he's so understanding and kind-hearted despite your disgusting attitude. But he'll probably break up with you soon, honestly, how much can a person suffer from this sort of relationship? He's probably looking for the right time to tell you-

"Hey.", There are warm hands cupping your face, and then a face in front of yours, bending slightly to look straight into your eyes. "I can hear you thinking, and I know you're blaming yourself again."

You shake your head, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes, and feel your own fill up with tears. This might be the last time he'll hold you like this…

"Y/N, please look at me.", Yoongi's voice again, his thumbs brushing away the hot tears streaming down your cheeks, his voice soft yet persistent.

You meet his eyes, his dark brown orbs locking you in place, his face faded away because of the tears blocking your eyesight.

"Stop. Please stop. I won't ever leave you.", his voice is sincere, his expression pained, and he seems to hesitate for a second before he looks at you once again with determination. "I love you."

Your heart stops, you believe, and you can't even find it in yourself to push him away, too dazed to even react to what your boyfriend just said.

He seems to notice as well, because he smiles, almost with amusement, before pulling you into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to your temple, so soft it hurts. "I love you", he whispers once again, lips brushing against your ear, and you can't help but tighten your arms around him as you finally let your body relax, melting into his arms like ice-cream in the sun.

You're too emotional, too fragile, to respond just yet, but when your tears start falling down again, wetting the junction between Yoongi's shoulder and neck, it's for an entirely different reason. And judging by the way Yoongi hugs you just a bit stronger, arms secure and safe around your waist, you think he knows.

Jung Hoseok:

Waiting at your empty apartment gave you too much room to think. Too much space to let your feelings control you, to let your thoughts wander.

Hoseok was coming back to Seoul today after being on tour for five months. Getting ripped away from your boyfriend for such a long time, only three months after you started dating, was everything but easy.

The fear your idol boyfriend will find someone else, someone better, on his trip around the world, was constant, along with the worry for his health and well-being.

But now he was coming back home, to you, after months of face-timing each other and sending longing texts, and you couldn't be happier.

You stare at your phone screen, trying to distract yourself until you'll hear the anticipated knock on the door, but it's useless.

Looking around, you bite your lip, wondering if the ramen you bought from your favorite restaurant downtown was a good idea, or if Hobi will be too tired from the flight, and will go to sleep immediately.

Before you can regret anything, a knock on the door makes you jump in place, and you place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beat too loudly, racing against the palm of your hand.

"Coming!", you practically leap to the door, your slipper-clad feet almost slipping against the marble floor of your apartment, and unlock the door quickly, not even bothering to check who it is.

And there he is, in all his glory. Brown hair, just on the border between super hot and messy. Ripped skinny jeans with a white golf shirt and a knee-long brown coat. Tired eyes covered with gold spectacles, and a huge smile, the kind that no amount of exhaustion can wipe.

"Y/Nieee~~", your boyfriend squeals, practically leaping towards you, leaving his beige bag on the top of the stairs without a second thought as he wraps his arms around you tightly, lifting you up from the ground as if you were a leaf and not a grown woman.

You laugh gleefully, unable to quiet down your own excitement as the sight of your boyfriend's happiness, and wrap your own arms around J-hope's neck, burying your nose in his shoulder and breathing in the smell of his cologne.

The two of you don't seem to care at all that you're standing two metres from your apartment, in the hallway of your building, hugging each other and laughing like maniacs, and that's exactly what you like about being with Hope. You just don't care.

Hoseok lowers you down to the floor slowly, until your feet are standing on the sturdy ground once again, but his arms stay wrapped around you tightly, hugging your waist as if he's afraid to let go. You stay like that, swaying from side to side.

"I missed you so much", you whisper, the sudden emotions making you pull back from your boyfriend and cup his cheeks with your hands, staring into the chocolate brown orbs you love so much.

Your boyfriend smiles and leans forward to close the gap between your lips, the shape of his smile imprinted against your own, and you sigh when you feel his soft lips against your own, something akin to relief flooding through your body.

It's soft, almost careful, when J-hope pulls you impossibly closer, one of his hands sliding up from your waist to cup your jaw, tilting your head to the side to kiss you even better.

When he pulls back, there's this unreadable expression on his face, the kind that tells you he's hiding something, but before you can ask what it is, your lover's already saying: "I love you".

Hoseok looks fearful for a moment, his hand twitching restlessly on your waist as he looks at your speechless face, and he quickly adds: "You don't have to say it back right now though. I just wanted you to know, I couldn't stop thinking about it during the tour-"

You kiss J-hope again, smashing your lips on his, the other letting out a surprised noise in the back of his throat at the sudden action, but he responds nevertheless, kissing back just as eagerly, his lips opening up to yours eagerly.

He still looks a little nervous though, even when you pull away, lips shining red and spit-slick, so you giggle, pressing another kiss to his nose because he's too cute to handle.

"I love you, too, dummy", you say, so happy you feel breathless. "I love you so so much."

You shriek when J-hope's confused expression turns into a grin, and he pulls you forward once again, pressing kisses all over your face until you have tears in your eyes from laughing too hard, almost falling backwards. But Hoseok won't let you fall, you know. You're not scared anymore.

Kim Namjoon:

Walking down the hallway to your boyfriend's studio, you start to wonder if this was a good idea. Namjoon didn't really like people interrupting him when he was working, preferring to work two days in a row, without going back home or even eating properly. It's just the type of guy he is.

'Joon needs this.', you remind yourself, 'Even if he thinks he's fine, he definitely needs a break. You're his girlfriend, it's your job to take care of him'.

That was true. You were Namjoon's girlfriend, even if you've been dating for a mere four months, and you were still in that point in your relationship where you didn't feel entirely comfortable showing up at his work without announcement, let alone an invitation.

But you knew that, with all his intelligence and fame, RM was really just a big clumsy baby, who needed to be fed and pampered, even if he won't ever admit it.

Tightening your hold against the bag in your hands, hugged securely to your chest, you increase your pace to Namjoon's room, your black boots making soft tapping sounds against the carpeted floor of the building.

Rkive, written in big black letters with a cute drawing of a house around it on the simple oak door, announces you that you have reached your destination.

You hesitate only for a second before knocking on the door lightly, your hands immediately falling down to fiddle with the hem of your blue wool sweater nervously as you wait for a response.

There's a short 'coming!', and then the door is opening smoothly, and the surprised face of your boyfriend appears instead.

His soft auburn hair is slightly tussled, brushed away from his eyes with what seemed to be the work of his own hands, probably a result of hours of brainstorming. His brown eyes are wide behind square black spectacles, perched on the edge of his nose, terrifyingly close to falling off. There's a beginning of a mustache starting to form above the full lips you loved to kiss so much, also a result of hours of working non-stop.

Namjoon's outfit is, as always, classy and simple. A plain white shirt, tight enough to showcase his strong pecs and biceps, tucked into brown dress pants, which boasted seemingly endless legs, and topped with fashionable olive green sneakers.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?", Namjoon looks shocked, but thankfully not angry or upset, and moves aside to let you in after a quick peck to your cheek, a wide smile on his face, his deep dimple popping out.

You feel a bit shy, despite hoping for this type of reaction, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you shift on your feet, looking at the ground sheepishly.

"I bought you something to eat", you explain, sitting on the simple black leather couch the Rkive had to offer, as hand over the bag of food to RM, who opens it with curiosity.

"What-", Namjoon's expression of confusion changes into one of happiness and shock at the sight of the food you gave him, and he takes out the carefully packed boxes of food from the bag, looking at you with admiration.

"How'd you know my favorite foods?", He asks, eyes looking at you so fondly you can't help but look down once again to your lap, fiddling with your fingers.

"I may have asked Taehyung oppa", you admit, feeling a bit creepy for going that far to buy Korean knife noodles and some bulgogi for your boyfriend. "I just haven't seen you for a few days, and I was worried that you aren't eating well, too busy with your music like you always are".

You gasp slightly when you feel gentle fingers grasp your chin, pulling it up so you're eye to eye with Namjoon, who has a soft smile on his lips, so loving it hurts in your chest.

"Thank you.", Namjoon whispers, so close you can count the eyelashes surrounding his dark orbs. "This means so much, Y/N".

And then he's pulling in, his lips warm against yours, like spring after months of winter, and you can't help but close your eyes, basking in the heat that is your boyfriend.

"I love you", Namjoon utters quietly when he pulls back, and off a second it feels like the warmth turned into a bonfire with the other's words, like you're a supernova seconds from blowing up.

You hug the male in front of you tightly, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulder and pulling him closer till you can smell the scent of pine woods and springs of fresh water and lemons.

"I love you, too".

Park Jimin:

You hum to yourself, brushing your teeth as quickly and cleanly as you can manage. Your reflection in the mirror in front of you looks too happy for this hour in the night, but you couldn't help it.

You smile to yourself, watching the girl in the mirror with the blushing cheeks and messy bun do the same. There's toothpaste foam dripping down your chin, a result of you opening your mouth while brushing your teeth, but you couldn't care less.

Rinsing your mouth, you tuck a loose curl behind your hair and tug on your Minnie Mouse pajamas, fixing the shorts on your hips and straightening out the red shirt on your chest.

When you think you look acceptable enough, you unlock the door of the bathroom, trying to control the smile threatening to erupt on your face once again as you exit the small room that leads to your bedroom, where your boyfriend is waiting for you.

It's not the first time Jimin slept over since you started dating five months ago, but it's been a while, since your boyfriend had been really busy with BTS' recent comeback and his schedule was always packed.

"Come on, baby, I'm tired", you barely make it into the room and Jimin's already whining, and you can't help but grin at his babyish behavior, walking to the bed where your lover is already lying down, scrolling on his phone.

He's sprawled all over your king bed, his dirty blonde hair spread around his face like the halo of an angel. The blue and white checkered pajamas he's wearing are adorable, especially teamed up with his droopy eyelids and pouty lips, begging to be kissed.

"Okay, okay", you giggle, practically leaping into the bed and wrapping your arms around Jimin tightly, placing your head on his chest, so you can hear the beating of his heart against your ear.

"There's my cuddly baby", Jimin mumbles, leaning over to kiss your temple, once, twice, three times, and you laugh, wiggling on top of him so you're tangled even more together, your hearts beating together.

Even though Jimin said he wanted to go to sleep, you end up talking for another hour and half, just about everything and nothing, sharing sweet kisses in between, and you think how comfortable it is like this, how much you wish to stay awake, even though your eyes are almost half closed by now.

And in that vulnerability, when everything is just so soft and so comfortable, you find yourself drawing patterns over Jimin's chest, stifling another yawn in the soft cotton of his shirt as you say, "I'm so proud of you, Jiminie. You've been incredible this comeback, and I feel like I didn't tell you enough how amazing you are for your hard work and passion".

The hand stroking your hair gently freezes, and you have to admit that you're also surprised by your mini speech, but you take it in a stride. After all, you were just saying the truth.

After a second of silence, you raise your head up, wanting to check the reason your boyfriend was so quiet, but your breath gets caught in your throat when you find soft, full lips pressing against yours tenderly, your hands tangling in Jimin's silky strands of hair on their own accord.

When your boyfriend pulls away, you can see his eyes are slightly glassy, but he's smiling, that heart-shaped smile you adore so much.

"I love you", he whispers, so softly you think you might have imagined it, but Jimin's eyes hold so much sincerity you know you heard correctly.

You gasp, hands still tangled in Jimin's hair, tugging on it just slightly in hopes of keeping yourself grounded, and stare at Jimin's eyes, unable to move your gaze from what you now know is love.

You don't even hesitate before brushing Jimin's hair away from his eyes and leaning down to peck him on the mouth, loving the sweet taste of his lips. "I love you more".

Kim Taehyung:

It was a rainy day. The kind of day you stay at home, preferably with a cup of hot chocolate and a very furry blanket, curled up on the sofa and watching the sparks in the fireplace.

And that was what you were planning to do. Even better than that, you were planning to do just that with your boyfriend.

Taehyung exited the kitchen, holding in his hands two mugs of what you knew was your favorite hot chocolate, made from real cocoa powder and topped with soft marshmallows and whipped cream.

Taehyung looks beautiful, especially in the soft light of your reading lamp, his oak brown hair falling on his forehead messily, showing off his dark eyebrows and his sharp eyes.

He's wearing one of his hoodies, the kind you'll only find in his closet, maroon red with a painting of one of his favorite artists on the front. His oversized black pants and matching wool slippers match the weather outside, and you can't help but smile when he approaches you slowly, careful not to spill the hot beverages in his hands.

Your boyfriend smiles back at you, placing the hot chocolate on the smooth wooden table in front of you before sitting down next to you, kissing your lips quickly.

You smile against Tae's lips, and then lean forward to snuggle against him, tucking your face in the warm space between his neck and shoulder.

You stay like that, Taehyung's hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer until you're practically in his lap, legs thrown over his and a large wool blanket wrapped around your bodies.

"We should go outside.", Taehyung says after a few minutes of silence, and you raise your head from his chest, where you were reading a novel you borrowed from the library last week.

You shoot your boyfriend an incredulous look, making sure he wasn't joking. You were used to Taehyung making all kinds of weird suggestions since you got together eight months ago, and you adored his special way of thinking, but this still surprised you.

"Tae, it's raining", you say, pointing out the obvious as you gesture towards the window, which was already covered completely with little translucent drops of water.

"So what?", Your boyfriend shrugs carelessly, an excited gleam in his chocolate eyes. "It's not cold even", he says with a pleading tone, a pout growing on his lips.

Unfortunately, you could never say no to your boyfriend's big puppy eyes and pouty lips, especially when he was so close to you, close enough to count all the sparks in his eyes.

"I'm so gonna regret this", you sigh after another second of staring at each other, but you can't help but smile when Tae breaks into a huge boxy grin, practically reaching from ear to ear.

"Come on!", Taehyung grabs your arm, intertwining your fingers tightly as he grabs a nearby jacket, slinging the thick leather over your shoulders before unlocking the door, laughing gleefully at the sound of the rain hitting the walls of your building.

The both of you basically race down the stairs of your building, ignoring the judgmental look of the clerk sitting behind the desk in the lobby, and open the doors, yelling out happily when you feel the water dripping down you steadily as you enter the parking lot of your building.

You shriek when Taehyung starts to run after you, the rain wetting his hair and making it stick to his forehead in dark strands, almost covering his eyes entirely and making him look almost scary when he lunges towards you, feet hitting the asphalt and making drops of water fly around.

You run, your black boots drowning in small puddles of water as you try to escape Taehyung's outstretched arms, but he catches you soon enough, grabbing you from behind and wrapping his arms around you lower stomach tightly, lifting you in the air.

You laugh loudly when he spins you around in the rain, your own hair in wet clumps against your face, but you couldn't care less, hearing Taehyung's own deep laughter by your ear.

When he lowers you down, something softens in the atmosphere around you, and you find yourself in Taehyung's arms once again, your own hands placed on his shoulders as you sway from side to side slowly, dancing to the music of an imaginary song.

Looking in Taehyung's eyes, you think you're the happiest you've ever been, even if you're completely soaked, and even a bit cold. And judging by the look in Tae's eyes, he feels the same.

"Y/N…", Taehyung's expression is hesitant when he pulls you even closer, pushing a strand of wet hair behind your hair.

Noticing the slight fear tinging his voice, you cup your boyfriend's cheek gently, slightly worried by the sudden change of his mood. "What is it?"

"I just…", another pause, and then Taehyung's looking at you once again, face just a bit more determinant than before. A deep breath. And then.

"I love you", he says, still looking into your eyes, turning his mouth to kiss the palm of your hand sweetly, and you feel your heart lurch.

You knew Taehyung was a bit scared of love, you had talked about this before, and you were willing to wait months, even years, until he'll feel comfortable enough to tell you his feelings.

Although you had known you loved him for a while now, you didn't say it, not wanting to make him feel obliged or stressed to reply in the same way. But now, you didn't hesitate for a second. In fact, it felt like a relief.

"I love you, too", you whisper, smiling so wide you think your teeth might break, before pulling Taehyung in for a deep, rain-wet kiss, your arms locking behind his nape, breathing in when Taehyung's hands slip to your thighs, lifting you up once again and twirling the two of you around, laughing when you shriek into his mouth.

"I love you. I love you.", Taehyung mumbles over and over again, pressing the words against your lips until you think they might be imprinted in your skin. And you think that even though rain is pouring on you, you're drenched with love.

Jeon Jungkook:

You smile a bit when Jungkook on the screen ducks his head, a shy smile on his face. His raised cheeks are a rosy red, his cute bunny teeth peeking out of his lips when he waves at the camera lightly, confetti falling around him like colorful snow.

You could hear Jungkook groan from his place in your lap, shaking his head against your gray sweatpants. "This is disgusting", he mumbles, covering his face with his hands while you laugh, ruffling his soft chocolate brown hair teasingly.

"You're adorable, Gguk.", you say honestly, your smile growing when Jungkook glares at you through his fingers, dark eyes squinting slightly. "But you're really bad at keeping a straight face".

You're not surprised in the least when Jungkook straightens up before you even finish the sentence, his competitive face rising once again, raising an eyebrow at you daringly. "You think you can keep a straight face longer than me?"

You snort, staring at your six-month-long boyfriend with a disbelieving face. "You really do make a competition out of everything.", you state dryly, rolling your eyes when the older shrugs, accepting your saying with a stride.

"But yeah, I do think I can stand longer than you, judging solely by this footage", you say, pointing at the TV screen, where BTS has now been switched by some other boy-band.

"Fine. Let's see who can last the longest. But no touching, just words and expressions and whatever.", Jungkook says, sitting in front of you cross-legged on the soft blue couch, wiggling his fingers cutely in his white wool socks.

"Deal. Must be hard for you not to touch me, though", you reply sassily, flinging your hair over your shoulder, a small giggle erupting your mouth at Jungkook's slightly red face.

"You're unbelievable", he mutters, trying to cover up his shyness by rolling his eyes at you. "Let's start", he says quickly.

You wipe the smile from your mouth immediately, staring straight into your lover's eyes. It's hard to do, even though you've been in much more intimate positions before.

To distract yourself from Jungkook's piercing eyes, soft and burning hot at the same time, you look at him, engraving details of him in your mind.

His slightly curly brown hair, the mole on his chin, the closeness of his eyelashes, the smudge of something, maybe flour from the two of you cooking cookies earlier, on his cheek. His soft looking mustard hoodie and his black sweatpants. The little hole in the sock on his left foot.

It seems like forever, with the two of you making faces at each other and throwing private jokes that only the two of you know of. Jungkook is hilarious, you must admit, certainly funnier than you, but you really want to win for once.

After a while, Jungkook looks slightly less confident, probably expecting you to lose a lot sooner, and he's obviously running out of ideas, his dark eyebrows furrowed over his eyes as he thinks of more ways to take you by surprise.

There's a small smirk on his face, one that tells you he has an idea, and it's most likely bad news, and then he's saying: "I love you".

You don't even try to keep a straight face, your mouth falling open on it's own accord, and Jungkook's cheering loudly like the little shit he is, a proud smile in his face while you continue to gape at him, still frozen in your spot.

"I told you I can-", Jungkook's words get stuck when you jump on him, pushing him down to lie on the sofa as you lie on top of him, your palms resting against his cheeks.

"Did you mean it?", You whisper, not even caring how crazy you sound as you stare into Kook's wide eyes, and you're sure he can feel your heartbeat through his shirt, loud and fast like lightning.

Jungkook's eyes soften then, almost like slowly melting chocolate, and he leans upwards until your noses are brushing gently, his eyes still locked with yours. "Of course I did, baby. I would never tell you that just for a stupid game."

And then you're kissing, and you don't even care that you just lost, and that after this sweet moment Jungkook will probably tease you for years to come about the face you made and how you lost at your own bet, because Jungkook's lips are soft, gentle yet firm, and his hand slides into your hair, tugging you even closer to him while tangling your legs together, until it's hard to see where he starts and you end.

After a while, when you're in Jungkook's embrace, listening to his soft humming in your ear, his mouth pressed to the top of your head so you feel the words of the song mouthed against you, you can't help but whine.

"You're such a cheat", you pout, making Jungkook laugh at the sudden comment, looking down at you with a fond look in his eyes and a soft smile gracing his lips. "I would've won, you know".

Jungkook chuckles, but much to your surprise, doesn't bicker with you like he usually does, instead choosing to press a sweet peck to your cheek, lips grazing your skin lovingly.

"Are you mad?", He asks teasingly, his grin growing wider when you snuggle deeper into his arms, pressing a peck to jaw, just because you can. "No".

[xjamlessparkx]

betray | pjm | kth | 02

summary: in which taehyung leaves you on the day of your wedding to run off with your best friend and you finding out about their secret

pairing: park jimin x reader | kim taehyung x reader

genre: angst

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 + TEXTS | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11

~3years later~

"Are you sure that you will go back?" Your mother asked you to while she watched you packing your stuff. Nodding quietly, you folded your last clothes and put them in your luggage. You didn't want to take much with you. Just the most necessary items.

"Yes, mom. I can't let my dreams go just because of my past and the people I knew probably forgot about everything" you referred to the incident 3 years ago. The day your groom ran off with your best friend. After that day you didn't last more than a couple of months in Korea. Everyone started talking about you and behind your back. At your workplace and in your neighborhood. You remember their words like it was yesterday. Some people forget how harmful words can be sometimes.

Do you see y/n? The poor girl was dumped on her wedding. Isn't that Y/N. Oh hey! I am so sorry about what happened to you.

Even when a new employee started their first day at your workplace, they knew and talked. You remembered when you introduced yourself to the employees and right when you turned your back you heard them whispering about what happened to you. Everyone felt pitiful for you and you hated the fact that they did. You tried the best to get over Taehyung and Somin but the topic about that special day was everywhere and the most talked gossip in your area. You couldn't stand it anymore.

The nights you cried yourself into sleep and the mornings you put on a fake smile to not look weak but you broke every day someone talked about that day.

Taehyung and Somin disappeared. After that day, you didn't see them again. Even Seokjin told you that Tae broke the contact with him even though they were like brothers to each other. You hated the fact that he betrayed you all. Seokjin never left your side and tried his best to make you forget him but nothing ever helped. You were helpless. After Seokjin heard that you booked your ticket back to America he was heartbroken. He didn't want you to leave Korea because if Taehyung and Somin found out they would see how weak and naive you are. Nonetheless, you returned to your parents' house in the US. It was not important if it made you look weak because the only thing you thought about was to forget Taehyung.

"Promise me to come back immediately if someone causes trouble" you knew who she was referring to.

After your parents heard about what happened to you they insisted you come back home. But you stood in Korea until you couldn't hold in the pressure anymore. You never talked about your feelings since your wedding, not even to Seokjin. When someone tried to open up this topic you told them to stop. It was all in your heart. Nobody knew what was going on with you.

Your father stared at you as he came into the room.

"What is making you leave us again? You can't forget what they did to you. Once your plane lands in Korea you might feel so low and insecure because memories will come back. I want you to be confident and strong-" you cut him off while hugging him firmly. Smiling faintly since you knew how worried he was for you.

"Dad, I love you. I appreciate your worry but I am 28 years old already. It's time for me to start living on my own with my own choices. What I need is your trust and support in whatever I do" you leaned back, staring into the distance as you thought about the possibilities that might occur but you still smiled weakly.

"Maybe I will even regret going back but I don't want to give up on the country where I feel home just because of some stupid memories. I don't care about them trust me" even though you lied with the last sentence you put on a weak smile. Your father sighed, not feeling pleased about your answer but he knew that he had to accept it no matter what. He hugged you once again because he wasn't able to drop you off at the airport and kissed your temple.-

"Make sure to call us regularly and visit us sometimes" he smiled while his eyes were filling with tears. He said his goodbyes before he left for work.

"I will drop you off" your mother exclaimed as you took your jacket. It was winter and you knew that Korea was probably full of snow. That didn't stop you from going. You shook your head.

"No mom ... I will call a cab. You have to go to the restaurant to help out aunty" she sighed at your answer. You were always like that's why she didn't insist and argued furthermore. You hugged her.

"Take care of you" your mother kissed both of your cheeks before she helped you carry the luggage out of the apartment and in the baggage of the cab. You waved your hands as the cab took off and dropped you at the airport.

It was time to go back. Without thinking about your past which still was pretty hard for you.

You got on the plane, searching for your seat and sat down. This was going to be a long flight and you made sure to make yourself feel comfortable. A woman sat down next to, smiling faintly.

Taking out your phone, you unlocked it, opening your music app to listened to your favorite ballade songs as the plane took off.

It was the second time flying alone and you weren't used to it at all. The first flight alone was when you left Korea and now when you return that's why you didn't know what to do at all. It was boring that's why you played with your phone, switching from app to app, playing games and making sure that your battery won't die. Of course, you hadn't access to wifi on that plane but you just watched some pictures on your phone, slowly swiping right and left to examine the pictures. You chuckled at the picture from last years Christmas Eve with your family, already missing your parents. You were happy about your return. It didn't erase your whole memories but you could distract yourself.

Suddenly you saw a picture of yourself and Taehyung as you swiped. It was on Valentines Day where he took you out on a date. You smiled faintly but just as you realized what he did your smile disappeared and changed with sadness. Your throat became sore and you felt the tears coming up. You wanted to cry so badly. On the picture, he was kissing your cheek as you were smiling widely, showing your teeth. It was a perfect timing picture.

Actually, you deleted all of your pictures with Taehyung and Somin but you might have forgotten that one. You clicked on the delete button but your fingers couldn't press on "yes" when the phone questioned if you were sure to delete that picture. You bit your lip as you clicked on the home button and locked your phone, focusing on the song that was playing. You couldn't delete the picture. Unfortunately, it was the only one left. No matter how much you hated what he did to you, you weren't able to hate him as a person because you always had the Taehyung in your memory with whom you were in love with. Something in your inner self told you that you still have some affection towards him. In fact, you never really stopped loving him. That's what you thought.

In 3 years of being in the US, you rejected any boys who showed interest in you. All you could think of was Taehyung. It felt like as if your heart and soul belonged to him. He took it and kept it even after you left him. You had given your all to him, not knowing how to take it back. You loved him sincerely even now but you knew that he never belonged to you.

You closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep. It was going to be a long way to Korea you should give yourself a little rest. You sighed and felt how your thoughts were flying to dreamland. -

You were happy when you landed because being on a plan for a long period is exhausting. You sighed as you took your small bag and got off the plane. After taking your luggage you left the airport fast.

That's it. That's my Korea. You inhaled the air, closing your eyes. That was the winter of Korea. It was always a special season for you. It was pretty insane that everything was special to you. You sighed as you watched the busy people walking fast by you, their shoulders brushing against each other to catch their flight or to reach out for a taxi.

"Taxi!" You called and held out your arm as the driver stopped in front of you. You gave him the address of your old flat.

Before you left the US you contacted your landlord because you wanted to move into your old flat again. It was a nice neighborhood and not that far from the city. It was a cold winter day and there was a little snow on the ground but it wasn't too dangerous to slip. You rested your head on the window and smiled, watching the buildings and the people flying past your eyes.

"Thank you" you gave the taxi driver his change as you got off the taxi. He helped you with your luggage before he left. You exhaled loudly as you stared at the little flat. You remembered the landlord saying that he put the keys into a small flower pot since he was busy with other business. He wanted to visit you after you made yourself comfortable. Your hands were shaking as you put the key in and opened the door.

A cold breeze drifted against your skin and you shivered. It was is a small corridor which led to the living room which was connected to your kitchen. The landlord hadn't throw out your belongings such as your items of furniture. Seems like no one moved in here since you left. The ground wasn't clean and the air was full of dust. This is going to be great work. You went to your small room. As you examined the whole room thinking about the old times. In this bed, you were getting so excited about your wedding. At least the bed sheets were thrown away. You sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

Was it a good idea in returning back?

However, you started cleaning and packing your belongings out. It took you a whole day to clean your own room. It was a priority that your bedroom was the first room you could live comfortably in it. In the coming weeks, you decided to design and decorate your flat.

Tomorrow would be another big day. Your application you sent a month ago from the US was accepted and you were invited for an interview. It was an elementary school where you would teach the 4th graders basic English. You were totally excited for what will come out. Deep down you had a good feeling.

-

The next day came and you just got ready for your interview which would start in exactly half an hour.

"I am getting this!" you gave yourself thumbs up in the mirror as you left the flat. It was cold and you pressed your jacket on your skin. Luckily no one was outside. You wondered if your old neighbors would recognize you. It wasn't really the case since they didn't see you.

You took the bus. Actually, it was a way which you could walk and reach in less than 15 minutes but the fact that your laziness wanted to take the bus was something you couldn't change about yourself. Plus, it was totally cold.

You looked out of the windows as you eyed the streets, the restaurants, small villages, and monumental things.

Seoul. The feeling of being in a wonderful city. It was gorgeous.

You got off the bus and went to the room of the school director. Mr. Lee.

"Hello Ms. Y/N. Perfect in time! Nice to see you" she took your hand and smiled softly. You sat in front of her as she bombed you with a lot of questions which you answered honestly and brave. After finally finishing the interview you walked around the school to learn about the rules and see the rooms.

Even though it was placed in a small place, it was a big school with a big playground. Suddenly the bell rang and you heard the laughter and the talking of children which automatically put a smile on your face.

"It was nice to meet you! We will give you an answer as soon as possible!" said Mrs. Lee nicely and shook your hand the last time. She turned around to make her leave, leaving you alone in the huge hallway with children passing you. It was already noon and time for many children to leave the school or go study somewhere in the library. You left the building seeing everyone being picked up by their parents. As you exited the gate you saw a little boy kneeling down on the cold snow. His hands were surrounding his tiny legs as he put his chin on his knees. You approached him hesitantly, furrowing your eyebrows while you searched for an adult who could've been his parent. You sighed as you kneeled down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey little boy, are you okay?" you asked and he looked up and threw his gaze at you. Something about him was feeling so familiar suddenly. As if you had seen these pretty little eyes of him somewhere.

"Who are you?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

"I am soon to be a new teacher here" though it wasn't official you felt as if they would take you immediately. You had a really good feeling about this job offer.

He smiled at you which warmed your heart because of his soft gesture. Somehow this smile was strangely familiar to you but you couldn't figure out where you've seen it.

"Why are you alone?" You asked curiously, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

"I am waiting for my father to pick me up" he admitted, staring down at his shoes which you had to smile at.

"Should I wait with you?" You asked hesitantly, not wanting to leave a small boy on his own on the street. It was freezing cold and literally, anything could happen to him. He shook his head, though.

"No, my father is on his way. I've grown up already" he laughed, holding his thumbs up.

"Alright" you weren't sure how to react since you had never interacted with children before except for Junho. But you didn't want to make him uncomfortable that's why stood up and turned around, walking away slowly.

"APPA!" He yelled from his lungs and you couldn't help but giggle at him getting happy by seeing his father.

"Junho" suddenly your feet stopped on his own. Your heart started beating faster.

That voice. The name of the child.

It felt like the world stopped moving and your feet were glued on the ground. You didn't want to turn around to look at them afraid that it will be really him. Afraid that you have to look into his eyes. But your brain acted faster as you turned around and saw him hugging the little boy. He let go of him and grabbed his hand.

No way ...

It was him.

Kim Taehyung.

Picking up his son from school. You felt your eyes filling with tears. Suddenly hidden feelings returned. The feelings you couldn't show or tell anyone. It was silent. As if everything paused around you. They noticed your presence as Junho looked at you and smiled talking to his father while pointing at you. Suddenly Taehyungs head turned to look at the person Junho was talking about.

You.

Once you made eye contact you felt like you would break down crying at that moment but it was important for you to stay strong. Especially in front of him.

You've moved on, that's what you should be thinking.

His facial expression was plain, shocked and sad. You felt your legs getting weak by his gaze. This isn't the way you should feel right now you thought. You turned around immediately and started walking down the road, not knowing where it would lead to. But you didn't care where you just wanted to get away from him. After walking for a while you sat down on a park bench.

Breaking down.