#and no shade intended to mate I like it fine but LOUIS. will HATE it. so much lol

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Sun 11 April ‘21

Liam is back and in excellent form! I have missed chatty Liam, he is such a chill pleasure to virtually hang out with. He went live to answer questions about his performance and joke around. He trolled fans in his response to a question about collabs- “I’d love to do one with hmm... Niall... and Zayn... and Harry and Louis,” he teased, and joked that “they’re here! Behind this curtain! Haha no… we could have put them in virtually! Probably would have gotten cease and desist letters from their managers…” and considered who would send the first letter. “Zayn,” he giggled, but then added that in fact his next upcoming collab is “with myself, tonight!” (hmm sounds dirty when you put it like THAT Liam!) And about the performance? Liam agreed that it’s very confusing but said he’d make things easier on us by naming virtual Liam; he’s Kelvin. He said he (Liam not Kelvin) has “been away for a while, been having a bit of time” and then immediately added that in fact he’s been rehearsing and working on this performance a lot but that “it’s the only thing I’ve been doing.” He said IDK when is LP2 coming- “when I can get to LA and work” (because he doesn’t like writing on zoom), that he’s currently working on a song for a film but that he can’t tell us anything about it but that it’s with some old friends he’s known since he was 17, they were the first people 1D worked with, that he’d consider making a visual album, “maybe a cartoon or something… maybe even an NFT, who knows!” A man in touch with what the fans want, always (well except for the NFT thing), he fulfilled my wish and demonstrated making faces to program Kelvin, and he shared a picture of his mo-cap feet like SEE they look like TINY SNAKES right? And then asked people to trend tinysnakes and the fans dutifully obliged. Look out you guys, it’s a tiny snake habitat!

And the performances? Well first there was the avatar-only one and I finally understand why he kept saying he’d be anywhere you wanted him in your house, sorry- I think other people got it all along and I just… didn’t… but anyway it’s like a pokemon go thing were tiny Liam Kelvin is just perched on your dirty laundry or table or whatever you point your phone at. ANYWAY, virtual Liam is awkward and weird and not a very good lipsyncer, but real Liam sounds amazing and looks terrific and the contrast only draws more attention to how well Liam holds the space on stage and how good he looked, in particular when they put the avatar and Liam together for the main event. He/ they sang Midnight, and it sounded great and was a big hit besides, the papers loved him as the show opener and were into the gimmick.

Louis’ new friend Sergio Aguero talked about DMing with him on his recent twitch stream (Sergio’s). Being Argentinian he ofc just starts talking to him about mate (the Argentinian tea, not bros, pronounced like mah-tay) which I have to say is dead on brand for every Argentinian I have ever met; you think Louis is serious about his Yorkshire but he’s probably met his beverage obsessed match here! Anyway so Sergio is like do you like mate, and “check out my tea stuff” (and sends him a picture of the traditional gourd and straw drinking apparatus) and Louis is like “idk what that is mate” which is hilarious because what it is… is mate… which is spelled the same… which Sergio tries to explain to his viewers but anyway yeah that’s the tea! Lol. He said that Louis has reached out a while back (but he didn’t know who Louis was until he was like “I was in One Direction”) and invited Sergio to a footie match in Portugal (to play with Louis’ famous people league team we’ve heard about before I bet) but he couldn’t go and they just started chatting now, after Louis messaged again; Louis was in Mexico but they’re gonna hang out when he’s back in the UK, and Sergio will give him some mate! LMAO OF COURSE he will. Louis will absolutely hate it but I would LOVE to see him try to be nice about some unfamiliar bitter herb water served in a gourd that sounds like PURE GOLD tbh.

Anne Marie talked about the Niall teaser pic for their collab. She said she’d wanted to work with him because “I just love his voice and he’s Irish, you know, he’s hot”, lol, and that “ he was just playing guitar, playing piano, and I was like wow you’re actually talented cause you never know who’s actually talented these days” and “we wrote like three songs and they were all brilliant.” Will we ever hear the other two songs?? I mean I’m fine to start with just the one, anytime now, but something to consider...

Falling won an ADG Award, the members of the Art Director’s Guild apparently feeling that Harry’s leaky piano was better than the competition, Taylor Swift’s leaky piano, and the tabloids picked up on twitter chatter about Harry going blond for My Policeman (because the character in the book is blond some people think he will bleach his hair) and then everyone talked about it more because the tabloids said so IT MUST BE TRUE. UM, are you even hearing yourselves? They don’t know shit people this is a feedback loop here.

#Liam payne #Louis tomlinson #harry styles #niall horan #okay so now the Liam /Liam ship name is Livin I guess? Like lee-vin? #liam said on his live he was doing the first perf somewhere then rushing to the royal albert hall to do #the baftas one- FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER #wtf #even more impressive it was so good #SO anyway that’s what Louis gets up to I guess watching handsome footie players livestream and sliding into their DMs #REPEATEDLY until they respond lol thats my fave part #11 apr 21 #clone liam #sergio aguero #anne marie #THANK YOU intern for espanol translating #and no shade intended to mate I like it fine but LOUIS. will HATE it. so much lol #Harry would like it I bet #he'd be into the special straw #niall and liam eh maybe not so much #liam would get into it as a health craze thing maybe #zayn probably drinks mate all night while he works in the studio or at least he'd be super down #to get high with some argentinians and drink hella mate

[inthesummerswelter]

recipe for disaster: chapter eighteen

There are days when he wants to hold the world’s hand and there are days when he wants to pat it on the shoulder and tell it that everything will be alright and there are days when he wants to tell it to buck up and keep a stiff upper lip.

This is one of those days when he wants to tell a collective fuck you to the world and not care about anything.

Because he’s just failed one of his final term papers.

(His professor is a heartless dick who wants to watch the world burn, he just knows it.)

And he’s just waltzed straight into a puddle that’s the size of Loch Ness, and his shoes are drenched.

(They’re the nice suede brogues that he’s saved up ages for because he wanted to look a bit more mature than Vans and a vest top all the time, and now they’re fucking ruined.)

And Penn won’t fucking talk to him anymore.

(It’s not really that she won’t talk. It’s more like she won’t even look at him. She got that funny look on her face, all crumpled and scrunched up, and then didn't even try to make up some excuse about how she had to go out to the grocer or to walk the dogs or some bullshit like that. She’s obviously avoiding him.)

He scuffs the bottom of his shoe along the grit collecting on the edge of the pavement, scrubbing it around a bit, hands in his pockets and his hood pulled up.

It’s not even raining. A gloomy sort of weather hangs above him now, and Ashton’s just sick and tired of things not going his way.

He rounds the corner to where their building is – it’s a bit of a cheery sight, he supposes, because he knows that there’s a warm blanket and a good cup of tea waiting for him back at his flat – and sees Penn there. Just sitting out there on the steps, as easy as you please.

Except it’s not. Easy that is.

To breathe.

Penn’s wearing a dress.

It’s a simple one, as far as Ashton can tell, and it suits her splendidly, the way the little navy floral pattern loops around her curves and gathers under her chest.

It’s also way too indecently short, he thinks a second later, quickly scanning the street around him to see if there’s anybody else about that he should need to offer her his jacket to hide her from.

Ashton chooses to ignore that fact that Penn’s been cooking him breakfast in just her bra top and his boxer shorts for an excessively long time now and instead concentrates on how obscenely long her legs look to be.

And then his heart drops.

She’s dressed up, dolled up, with that stuff around her eyes that makes them pop unnaturally – he doesn’t like it, never has – and lipstick even.

That’s date attire. Even he knows that.

Penn’s dressed up to go out on a date.

Soon, his feet are taking him faster and faster towards her, the kilometres of cement becoming millimetres, and suddenly he’s there, right in front of her.

She looks up, blinking, and his world slows down to half-time.

“H-hello.”

“You, um. You look…nice.”

Frowning a bit, she plucks at the edge of her skirt. “Thanks.”

There's a long pause where he tries to collect his thoughts and bring them away from how strikingly beautiful she looks.

He can do this. He can be smooth and eloquent.

“Ah, um.” Nope, no he can't.

He retracts the hand that somehow had made its way halfway to tucking an errant piece of hair back behind her ear and tries to turn it into a casual pass through his mussed hair instead. He knows it doesn’t come even as close to smooth as he intended.

But it’s like she hadn’t even noticed, the way her eyes flit around, as if they’re looking for somebody else.

Somebody who’s not him.

If his heart dropped before, it plummets now into the roiling pit of spite and jealousy eating a hole through his gut.

"Looking for Louis?" he asks, practically spitting out the words. It's like he hears his voice coming back at him through a bad connection, all tinny and twisted and warped in hate. "Hot date? Taking the next step in your relationship together, yeah?"

Now he's gotten her attention. Penn looks at him, brow knitting up in a frown.

"Ash," she says in a soft voice that nearly breaks through his thundercloud. "Ash, it's not him. It's somebody else."

He can't take it, his head spinning with all the vicious possibilities. Niall, then, the scrawny little Irish bloke.

"Well, have a fucking fantastic time, then, with whoever you wanna fuck."

Ashton can't take this anymore, can't watch her do this.

Brushing past her, he takes the steps up to their floor two at a time, slamming himself and his pain inside the walls of his flat.

(In his haste, he doesn't hear her gasp, doesn't see the hurt flare up in her eyes or how she gathers herself and the bouquet up and picks her way down the street, away from their building.)

  His eyes are stuck on one line. He's read it a thousand times with no success.

Just when he thinks he's cracked the code - obviously the daft loon's been prattling on about corrupt systems through the ridiculous shoe factory analogy - and is about to make a note in the margins, the doorbell rings.

Tempted to ignore it, he goes back to his readings, making it three words before it rings again, more insistently.

And then, a third, fourth, and fifth time in rapid succession.

Grumbling, he lifts the book off his chest and moves to get the door.

Opening it, Ashton’s shocked.

It’s Louis, standing there before him, a genial smile on his face and hands shoved into the pockets of a coat already dripping rainwater onto the floor.

“Hello!” he says cheerily, poking his head underneath Ashton’s arm to peer around the room. "Is Penn here, then? I tried her door and nobody answered, so I figured you two would be here then."

He glances at his watch. "I did give you lot enough time, now, didn't I? It was hard to judge, but I figured a few hours would be sufficient."

Ashton clears his throat. "Penn's not here."

"Oh! Well, where is she? Is she out at the shops, then, or something?"

This isn't making any sense.

"She was sitting on the steps at the front of the building," Ashton says slowly, enunciating just in case this Louis bloke is a bit thick after all. "You know, waiting for her date. I figured it was you or that little blonde fellow."

Louis' expression makes the rapid right turn from sunny bemusement to horrified realization.

"Jesus Christ. Oh my God. Holy shit."

Ashton doesn't know how many more deities Louis is going to invoke, but he'd rather he be done sooner rather than later, so he interrupts him, stating bitterly, "Look, mate, she's with your friend, right? It'll be just fucking fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some revising to finish."

Hands wrapped firmly around the handle, he goes to swing the door shut and almost accomplishes the task, but for a Herculean effort from the boy in the hallway.

"You don't understand!" Louis shouts with his foot jammed securely between the frame and the door, effectively blocking it open. "She was meant to be with you! That was the fucking plan! All that, on the stairs, was for you, you bleeding idiot!"

It's a very big voice coming out of a very small body - well, at least a shorter body than his own - and the sudden shock causes him to release his grip on the door. Accordingly, it slams inward against the wall, a very nonplussed Louis attached.

His expression leaves showy anger behind, this time, and leans towards colder fury.

"What did you say to her? If she's not in her flat, not with you, and not at any of the places Niall's been running his arse off to, then you must have fucked up royally. What the fuck did you say to her?"

Ashton throat tightens strangely. All that was for...him?

He's grinning now, and Louis looks ready to physically assault him.

"Christ, concentrate! This is all your fucking fault for fucking this up, so go and bring her back and fix everything, goddamnit!"

"Calm down, mate, I know where she is."

At the very least, he's got an intuitive inkling of where she might be. Someplace that she hasn't ever taken Niall or Louis before.

Taking his keys and a coat off the ring by the door, he brushes Louis back into the hallway. Ashton shuts and locks up his flat, telling the bloke behind him, "I'm going to fix this, okay? I'm going to fix this."

  He trots through the streets in worn boots and the mac over top his denim jacket and worn tee. There's no posturing here now, with her. No need for fancy get-ups.

This is it, this is his moment.

The gate creaks open easily, still open for visitors even in the last few hours of the early evening, and he keeps up a steady pace as he moves down the paved pathway.

She's there, in the cemetery, just like he knew she would be. Leaning on the tombstone, her fingers bracket the etched letters, curving pale parentheses around the dark of the stone.

The bouquet of lily-of-the-valley lays limp by where her heels dig into the soft sod, the tiny cream blooms still holding their perfect delicate bell shape.

As he approaches, he can see her quivering, the thin fabric of the dress plastered to her body, limbs a worryingly pale shade. Unconsciously, he slips off the mac he's wearing, bundles it up into one hand, and walks into the row.

"I didn't--," he begins, worrying the stitching at the edges of the coat in his hand. "I didn't know that, I mean, I thought that you and he were..."

There's no nice way to put it, so the words jam themselves back up into his throat and he wraps the mac around her shoulders.

A single lock of dark hair sticks itself to the plane of her cheekbone like an ugly scar. His fingers reach up and brush it away without a second thought.

She doesn't say anything, just lets her lips seal themselves together as she waits for him.

Ashton clears his throat. "What I said on the steps, I mean - I wasn't thinking straight, I was angry, really angry. And jealous as hell, thinking of you and...and someone who's not me."

Closing her eyes, Penn gives a half-hearted laugh.

"That's so fucking ironic. Do you remember the day I locked myself in the bathroom?"

He nods. He was going to tell her that day, until she told him to leave. And then life got in the way.

(He think maybe he'll tell her today instead.)

She continues, saying, "I was so, so upset that day, so frustrated. It was already a shit day. And then I saw you with that girl, through your window, and I couldn't see you any more without seeing her too."

Ashton can't believe it. "You saw me? And a girl? ...Oh my God. You saw me and Tal. That's Mikey's girlfriend, Penn. I was asking her for advice about things."

"Things?"

He's utterly embarrassed now.

"You."

"Oh." She scrubs at her face with the back of her hand, dragonfly eyes flitting around. "Oh."

"I'm so sorry, Penn. I never mean to hurt you."

The rain has slowed now, turning from a torrent to a drizzle now, and the mist rising up from the ground frosts Penn's eyelashes with a dusting of sparkling crystals.

He's thrown back to the first time they met in the rain, the way her hands splayed across his chest, and Ashton's chest tightens up.

"I think I'm in love with you. I hope you don't mind too much."

He doesn't realise that he's the one who spoke until her eyes flutter shut and her breath mists out in front of her.

And if he was having trouble breathing before, there's nothing in his lungs now as they constrict in his chest with anxiety as he waits for her to say anything, do anything.

Slowly, so slow he can't be sure she's actually moving, Penn picks herself up off where she's leaning on the headstone and pulls her hands out of the sleeves of the mac.

Her hands are bone-cold, but they warm quickly as she reaches forward to where his are dangling by his side. Lacing their fingers together in what feels like a promise, she tilts her head up towards his and whispers with a smile, "I don't mind at all."

Closing the scant distance between them, quivering with months of anticipation trapped under his skin, he catches her mouth with his own, molding their lips together with gentle, coaxing pressure.

Every part of him is brimming with electricity, humming down his veins until he is all caught up in her. They create a world there, the two of them, a sharing of breath, a melding of souls.

He never wants this moment to end.

  It does, though, as all moments do, when Penn's hands return to their icy state, and he reluctantly releases her with a teasing nip at her lower lip.

Later, once they've made the long journey and returned to her flat, towelled themselves off, and curled up on her sofa under a pile of blankets in their skivvies, he kisses her again, just because he can.

And, afterwards, he tells her he's in love with her, just because he can.

With a grin, she tucks her head into his chest and tells him she's in love with him too.

Just because she can.

(They're so happy together.)

#fic: recipe for disaster #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sosff #updates #last chapter before the epilogue!