#the girl on the cover wrote directed and starred in it. she played a very minor character in the first one

[piggiebonez]

girskel and zimbert

zimskel and girbert

siskel and ebert dark tribute

[littledollll]

Ok but manipulative obsessive ballet teacher larissa keeping her star student after hours so they can focus on her technique in more ways than one

AND YOU JUST KNOW SHE’LL HAVE HER HANDS ON HER STUDENT AT ALL TIMES

It’s to help your form she says, definitely not just to see how flustered you can get

Private lessons

Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader

A/n: is this becoming a thing? I think it’s becoming a thing. I’m kinda obsessed, could be a little AU for us?👀 also I’d like to note that while I’m not gonna specify age in hopes of inclusivity, reader is around their mid 20’s.

HAH I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna have the ideas and motivation keep writing. Anyways, this is my last draft. Hope you enjoy!!

Warning: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, touching, sexual undertones, little bit of mean Larissa

_______________________________

“I will say this once and only once. At this level none of you should not need me walking you through every little step like the girls from baby ballet!” Larissa spoke loud enough to fill the room, before signaling the pianist to begin playing.

Everyone ran to form a line across the back of the room, you ending up fifth in line for the exercise. Perfect spot. Only four in front to watch, and be done quickly.

“However you’d like to start, give me four pique turns to the center, four changing fouettés, pas de bourree and close with a triple.”

One by one each student went. Some being sent back to start from the beginning if they messed up, some going without comment, very rarely did she praise anyone.

Your turn came, you started in a simple fifth position, spotting towards the diagonal which just so happened to be exactly where Larissa was standing. You had no trouble keeping your eyes on her.

“Thank you!” She said in a very clearly annoyed tone. “Finally someone who knows how to spot correctly. The rest of you should learn a little from this starting position. Go on, my dear. I apologize for interrupting your start.” You gave a short nod and began your sequence. Everything was going perfectly until the final part, where you failed to complete the third turn, but saved it by landing on fifth.

You quickly got up and were about to scurry back to the beginning but Larissa spoke up. “No need. You were perfect till the very end and at least saved it. Back of the line.”

You smiled, Larissa smiled back, giving you- a wink? Oh you must have been seeing things. She wouldn’t. What an odd thing it would be for her to do. Regardless, you nodded, looking down as you walked past her only for her to stop you in your tracks and tilt your chin up with her pointer finger. “A ballerina walks proudly. She floats with a straight back and gentle steps. Chin up, my dear.”

Surely she could see the dark red blush covering your cheeks, she nodded you off to continue walking, a smile still on her lips.

When she turned to continue the class, her smile fell, and the strict teacher was back.

When everyone was done with diagonal, she called back to center. “That will be all for today. Applaud yourself for the effort and I will see you all tomorrow.” She locked eyes with you as she spoke, before turning to talk to the pianist while everyone packed up and left.

“You. Stay back, my dear.” A few girls looked back, but she was very clearly talking to you. Her direct tone made it seem like you were in trouble, making your heart race.

“O-okay. Should I keep my pointes on?” You spoke as you stopped in the middle of untying the ribbon. “Yes, please do.”

“Is something wrong, ma’am?” You asked softly as you noticed her staring, watching you. She shook her head with a smile. “Nothing at all, darling. You’re a great student, I’d just like to give you a few pointers.”

By the time you finished tying your ribbons back on securely, and stood, walking over to her, everyone else was already gone, even the pianist. And Larissa had closed the door with the last one out.

“I’ll start with how you failed that triple turn. It shouldn’t be much of a difficult thing for someone of your level…” she mutters.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” You said, lowering your head.

Larissa stepped in front of you, so close you could practically feel her breathing as she once again tilted your chin up. “What did I say about ballerinas, sweetheart.”

You blushed at the closeness, this woman was beyond beautiful, and talented. Having her this up close felt like an honor. You felt so small next to her. “They walk proudly.” You answered.

“Good girl. So you do listen.” She stepped back and you immediately missed her presence so close to yours. “Fortunately for you, I do know what happened.”

She rounded you. “Get into fourth, give me a clean double.” You did as told, a clean double pirouette, finishing back in fourth position.

“Good. Now give me a triple, this time focus on what you’re feeling.” Again, you did as told and just like last time fell on the last turn.

“Do you see the problem?” “Yes- I think so.” She nods. “Tell me.”

“My heel is on the floor by the time I’m in the third turn.” She looked at you proudly for a moment. “Very good. You’re dropping your heel. When you do a double it’s no issue because you’re still high on pointe. But you’re turning in demi at the third. No dancer of mine turns in demi at this level. That’s for the little girls. Tell me miss, are you a little girl?”

“I- well- no of course not.” She hummed, bringing a chair in front of the mirror, centered in the room. She pointed at you to move to the center as well as she sat down, crossing her gorgeously long legs.

Any dancer would die for those. You’re sure she was the envy of the whole school back when she was just a student. “You’re acting like it. You turn like it.” Her voice brought you back in the moment.

“Anyone can do a simple turn. I’m sure the damn pianist could come do one for us. Anyone can do a double too. Any one of the juniors at this establishment could. You’re failing, at this age and this level. I mean you can do it, but you don’t do it well.”

“I can. I promise you I can. I’ve done it before!” You rushed to prove yourself to her. She was the last person on earth you wanted to disappoint.

“Well of course you have. You wouldn’t be in this level if you couldn’t pull off a simple triple turn. So what is it? Are you finding the easy way? Is this you being lazy, in my class, miss?”

You wanted to cry at just the idea of disappointing her.. and this was how she saw you? Some lazy brat in an advanced class while she was God herself to you? That wouldn’t do.

“I’ll help you, my girl. You dance beautifully, you move and project emotions the way no other can. But you’re falling at the basics. All the talent and emotion in the world won’t save you if you can’t pull off a good turn. Try to think of any important role to dance which doesn’t turn.”

“There’s not many..” you said quietly. You wanted to bring your head down again, truly, you felt shameful. You could do it, both of you knew that. But you weren’t, why is that? Larissa wondered.

“Not any, my dear.” She sighed, walking behind you. “I want you to try for four turns with me here. I will spin and support you. Just keep that heel up.” You nodded, getting into fourth, and doing a plié before starting your turns.

Larissa’s hands moved quickly around your waist, guiding you through every turn and stopping at the four count. “You’re very capable. You can spot well, you could turn ten times with me here, I bet. But I trust you know that there won’t always be a pas de deux in every show or every dance. There won’t always be somebody to help you turn.”

“Yes I know, ma’am.” She smiled. “Of course you do. You’re a smart girl, my dear.”

“You trust that I won’t let you fall, yet you’re not trusting yourself.” She said, squeezing your hips lightly as she kept her hands in place. “You have the strength to stay up, no doubt. Trusting yourself is just as important.”

“Let’s try to balance on pasé for a few, hm? Get your body comfortable with staying up for a longer time.” She stepped back.

Her eyes were racking over your body. You could feel it, it only made your blush grow deeper. “Slowly. Take your foot from the ground up to your ankle first.” You moved as she spoke, she seemed to approve of that.

“Up your calf… and above your knee. Do not rest it, now hold.” You were perfectly still once she told you to hold position, settling all the shaking in an instant.

“Your breathing cannot interrupt you. I want it to look like you’re not even breathing. Keep that rib cage closed tightly and focus. Imagine there is a string going straight through the center of your body, pulling you up toward the ceiling.”

You breathed slowly, barely. Not even thinking about uttering a word at this moment. “Turning is much easier than balancing. You have more momentum to stay up, and as long as you don’t move and exaggerated amount you can get away with not being perfectly in center with your body. Though you should be.”

You felt the warmth of her hands again. You could see her blurry in the mirror, trying to keep your face straight. You stared right into your own eyes.

Her hands were under your breasts for a moment, pressing down on your rib cage gently. “Tightly closed. Very good, my darling.. very good.” She whispered.

Larissa’s hands caressed your thighs before reaching your knee, spreading your leg a little more open. “I should be able to see you in one line if I were to look at you from the side. Keep your knee aligned with your shoulder.” She spoke softly, having no need for loud words as she was practically pressed up against you.

Your balance shook as she adjusted you, but she didn’t let you fall. Instead helping you find your balance once more before moving on. “You’re focusing too much on me. I’m not even here. Now rest.”

You sighed in relief as she gave that command, letting your pointe trail down your leg the same way it trailed up, until you reached fifth position and got off pointe, allowing yourself to rest.

“That was very good.. I would’ve been a little disappointed had you not done that. Half the girls would rush, out of sheer desperation but you.. you did that stunningly. A very good girl, you are.”

“Thank you, ma’am.. I’ll be honest, I do my best to impress you…” Larissa quirked her brow. “Is that right.. Well, lovely girl, you do a good job at it. Let’s get those turns right and I’ll be even more impressed, proud, even.” Larissa hummed as she traced down your spine with her long fingers, and then reached your skirt.

Shamelessly, she began untying it, removing the garment from your body and throwing it next to her chair. “That thing only makes seeing the things I need to see harder.” You nodded in agreement, feeling your skin heat up as she held your hips for a few moments much longer than necessary.

“We will work on your left side another time. For now I want to focus on getting that left heel to stay up.” She stepped back, moving around you to be in front now. “Give me a triple pirouette.”

You took a deep breath in, breathing out slowly. You moved into fourth position, doing a deep plié before you started.

This time, you stayed up longer, but let your heel fall by the end. Larissa sighed. “Again.”

It went on for some time. Each time you would get closer to doing it right, finally. “Again.”

“Let’s try something. Think about doing four. Set your mind, we’re doing four turns, but remember you’re closing, cleanly, on the third.” You nodded, feeling anxious about how many tries this has already taken. No doubt you felt Larissa was tired of this.

With the thought cemented on your mind, you went for four. Just keep the heel up for four.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three, close it!” You landed it right as she finished speaking, closing on a tight fifth position, your arms rounded and lowered around your bellybutton.

“Absolutely perfect. You did perfect, my dear. That was the cleanest I’ve ever seen you turn.”

“Why’d you count?” You said in a whiny tone and Larissa couldn’t help but chuckle. “You all hate it when I count. But it helped you, didn’t it? I’m just guiding you, my beautiful girl.”

You smiled, “yeah it did help..”

“Come, sweet girl.” With hurting legs you walked to her, standing in front of her with little idea of what exactly to do. But she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards herself, wrapping you in a soft hug.

It was certainly an odd thing to do, but her warmth was something you seeked.. and God, was being in her arms delightful.

She rubbed your sides gently, caressing over your soft leotard. “You did very well, my star. I want to see this progress shown in the next class, yes?” You nodded, nuzzling yourself against her neck without even thinking about it. And breathing in.. she smelled expensive, a little woody but also floral. You wanted to bathe in whatever perfume it was she wore.

“Very good, my girl. It’s time for you to get home.” You almost whined as you pulled away from her, and Larissa hushed you. “Change out of your pointes, and don’t forget your skirt. I have to close up here soon.”

You nodded, going over to your bag and quickly changing into your street shoes and some shorts. “Um, thank you, ma’am. For helping me and everything.”

“It’s a pleasure to help such a delightful student like you, always.” You blushed, waving a quick goodbye before practically skipping out of the room.

Larissa smiled as she saw it written clear across your face, she had you wrapped around her little finger. What a good girl you truly were.

[bwbatta]

The five times James Potter asked you to marry him

(and the one time he meant it)

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Sexual content, swearing

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: I saw this done with Fred somewhere but can’t remember who it was that wrote it, so thought I’d do the same with our boy James. There is also a lil bit of smutty goodness within this so please don’t read if this offends you or if you are underage! 

One

The first time James Potter asked you to marry him was when he first met you. 

Quidditch season had begun and Gryffindor vs Slytherin was the first game, enticing everyone to the stands to watch the two rival teams battle it out. James was aware of the new team members he was playing against, but blissfully unaware of how one of them was you. 

Their Gryffindor keeper had just saved a goal from your teammate, throwing the quaffle to James, only for it to be stolen from his grasp before he could blink. 

“What the-”

His eyes caught sight of your green quidditch robes as you zipped away, throwing the quaffle for another goal and succeeding as it soared through. The Slytherin stands erupted into cheers, but James could barely focus on it as he was too focused on you. 

Shaking it off, James pushed himself to focus on the game again, more determined to score, yet when you somehow stole the quaffle away from him another time, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

Had Slytherin finally recruited a decent quidditch player?!

The sarcastic thought barely slipped through his mind before the quaffle vanished from his hands a third time. 

“Prongs!” Sirius flew up beside him, pointing his beater’s bat towards him in an accusing way, “stop giving her the bloody quaffle!”

James just rolled his eyes before flying off towards you with the intent to nick it back. 

Whilst you easily avoided a bludger that Sirius had hit towards you, James quickly pinched back the quaffle in the split second you were distracted. With a cheeky grin in your direction, he winked and flew towards the Slytherin goals. 

After that, it became more of a game between the two of you rather than the actual match. Stealing the quaffle back and forth had you both snickering at the other when they lost it. 

With the commentator suddenly breaking the information that the two seekers were in a battle to catch the snitch, James’ attention shifted for just a moment to watch, which was just long enough for you to steal the quaffle away once more, just as the game ended.

Noticing the quaffle no longer in his grip, his attention shot to you where you held up the ball with a grin, winking back at him. 

Despite the two of you messing around with each other the whole game, neither of you had said a word to the other. Breaking the silence between the two of you, James couldn’t help but laugh, despite the fact Gryffindor had just lost after Regulus Black had caught the snitch for Slytherin. 

“Marry me.” He grinned widely at you as you smiled back just as big. 

“Not today.” You snickered, winking at him once more before flying down to join your team. 

Sirius appeared beside his best mate with an odd expression on his face, having just witnessed the exchange. 

“Am I missing something?”

James just chuckled, but his gaze stayed on you, watching as you cheered along with you team at the win. He wasn’t aware of who you were before the game, but he was very aware of you now. 

Two

Despite the fact you were sorted in Slytherin, you didn’t get along with certain members of your house. The common room always seemed to be the hotspot for wannabe dark wizards who publicly shared their common views on blood status and who wasn’t worthy of studying magic. 

It was something you didn’t agree with and so avoided as much as you could. This was why you sought your refuge in one of the alcoves off the third floor corridor. It was quiet and you didn’t get nearly as distracted as you would if you had stayed in the common room, or even the library for that matter. 

Hearing a loud swear and then the sound of feet pounding down the corridor, you couldn’t help but be curious. Sticking your head out, you had to admit you weren’t surprised to see a panicked James Potter and Sirius Black running down the corridor towards you. 

The loud shout from behind them, which could only have come from Professor McGonagall, followed them as it echoed down the hall. 

The corridor came to a dead end and the two friends shared a look of dread. Before you knew what came over you, you stuck your head out and whispered to them.

“Psst,” their attention was immediately on you, “in here.”

Stepping out of your spot, the two boys clambered in as you walked down the corridor to come face to face with a furious Professor McGonagall. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” she controlled her anger as she questioned you, “have you seen Mr Potter or Mr Black come down here?”

“The two Gryffindors?” You inquired, your face void of anything that would give you away, “not down here, no, though judging from the noise and smell of chaos, I think they went that way.” 

Pointing down the direction of the opposite hall, the professor thanked you before turning and storming down it, turning the corner at the end and disappearing from sight.

With a snicker, you turned and headed back to find both James and Sirius with huge grins on their faces. 

“Oh, you’re not just a normal Slytherin are you?!” James gleamed, stepping forward, out of the hiding spot. 

“A normal Slytherin?!”

“Conniving, back stabbing, selfish.” Sirius listed off, “my entire family’s full of them, but you are different.”

“Glad I could break the Stereotype.” You shrugged a shoulder, before your attention shifted to James. “What did you two do anyway which set off McGonagall like that?!”

The pair of Gryffindor’s looked slightly sheepish suddenly as if they were reluctant to say. 

“Uhhh, maybe because we set up a prank for some Slytherins’ to drop honey and feathers on them as they walked through the Great Hall, but McGonagall ended up walking through it instead.” James grimaced at the memory of how furious the teacher was. 

“Well that was stupid,” you snorted whilst grabbing your bag from the floor, “she obviously just vanished it. Next time you should definitely add a sticking charm so they can’t just magic it away. Oh and get the right target. As far as I’m concerned, the Slytherin’s that are the biggest dickheads are fair game, deal?”

“Marry me.” James gazed at you like you just discovered the stars.

With a small laugh and a roll of your eyes, your attention was quickly drawn to a piece of folded parchment on the ground which you were sure wasn’t yours.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you caught sight of the front. “Messers Moony, Wormta- hey!”

“Nothing!” Sirius said quickly, snatching it from your grip and tucking it away.

“Yeah because if it was nothing, you wouldn’t just rip it out of my hands now?!” You snickered, “you know if you really don’t want it to be read, you should put a password phrase on it to at least make it look like it’s nothing.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” Sirius grinned, “you know, you’re not that bad.”

“So I’ve been told.” You laughed back at him, completely missing how James was grinning at you with utter wonder in his eyes.

Three

After inspiring the Gryffindor duo with both the prank idea and how to further the map, you didn’t expect that James and Sirius would rarely leave you alone. 

Because of this, you were introduced to Remus and Peter since both James and Sirius had determined you should be friends, especially when you could give them inside knowledge on which Slytherins to go after.  

You weren’t sure how to feel about it at first, but after a while it became natural to sit with the boys for breakfast or dinner. 

You also didn’t expect to see Amycus Carrow walk through the common room late one evening, mysteriously covered in honey and feathers after relaying a snide comment to you about your newfound friends.

The satisfaction you got from seeing Carrow try to explain there was obviously a sticking charm, preventing him from vanishing the sticky mess to his friends, was so much better than you could’ve imagined. You told the boys that very thing the next day. 

It also wasn’t long before James took the plunge and asked you out to Hogsmeade. 

The two of you had grown close despite your different houses, yet you both couldn’t deny there was a major attraction between you. (Something Sirius constantly commented on.)

Which was why you found yourself in the Three Broomsticks with James, laughing over butterbeers with story he told you.

“So then Remus enters the room to find it destroyed with Sirius handcuffed to his bed, naked, with only a pillow covering him. And you know what he said, like any other Tuesday? ‘I heard they’re serving Pie for dinner tonight’.”

“I’m telling you, those Ravenclaw girls are devious! Maybe even more so than us Slytherins!”

“Well if it’s any consolation, I would hate to get on your bad side.” James grinned at you, raising his glass.

“I’ll drink to that.” You snickered, clinking your glass with his. 

“Well well, I wouldn’t have expected to see you in here with this riffraff, Y/N.” A cold voice was heard from behind you. “Then again, you did always hang around with the wrong sort, a blood traitor no less.”

Turning around, your eyes met the steely blue ones of Lucius Malfoy. 

“Don’t call me by my first name like we’re friends, Malfoy. And for the record, at least I don’t associate myself with wannabe death eaters, like your friends.”

To further your point, your eyes flickered over to the group where Malfoy was originally sat, the group containing the Carrows, Mulciber and Snape.

Lucius’ expression was tight, yet both James and you could see the look of hate in his eyes. 

“You should leave.” James stood to match Lucius’ height as he rounded the table, effectively putting himself between the two of you. The two men stared each other down.

“And why should I?” Lucius questioned back, his voice cold. 

“Because it would be an absolute shame if anyone found out about your midnight visitor the other night. Right, Malfoy?” You questioned with a innocent look on your face. 

Standing up and linking your arm with James’, Lucius’ eyes snapped to you as you held his expression with a stern one of your own. 

“A Hufflepuff, wasn’t she? And a muggleborn no less. Which is weird because, aren’t you engaged to Narcissa Black? I wonder what her family would think, them being the ‘Noble House of Black’ and all?” 

Lucius looked furious, but you held his glare firmly, only for him to step back a few moments later, allowing a space for you to pass. Pulling James along with you, you headed towards the door with a spring in your step like you hadn’t just blackmailed one of the Slytherin prefects.  

“Ooh, can we go to Honeydukes? I need to stock up on chocolate frogs.”

James was stunned, captivated and slightly aroused. 

Watching you take on Malfoy like it was nothing more than a brain training activity, made him laugh in wonder as the two of you exited onto the street. 

You kept talking about the new limited edition sugar quills before you paused, realising James wasn’t really listening to you anymore. 

“Hey, you alright?”

“Marry me.”

With a grin, you just linked arms with him again, the two of you heading in the direction of the sweet shop, a growing list of sugary items to buy. 

Four

With a groan of pleasure, James pulled you tighter to him as you moaned out his name, your hands wound in his hair making it appear a lot messier than usual. 

The two of you had graduated Hogwarts only a few months ago, and after dating for just over two years, James asked you to move in with him once you finished school. 

The small flat the two of you shared was found in Diagon Alley, above the quidditch shop, which you wondered whether he had planned or not when he first suggested you view the place. Sirius and Remus had their own flat which the former had bought for the two with the money he had inherited from uncle, after being disowned from his family. 

Your small group of friends supported him the best you could, which included Sirius moving in with James and his parents for a while as they finished Hogwarts. Yet, when they entered the final months of their seventh year at school, Sirius insisted he would look for his own place, not wanting to intrude longer than he already had, not that the Potters’ would call him staying with them an intrusion of any kind. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” James gasped out as he quickened his pace, thrusting into you faster as you christened the different rooms. 

You had both started in your bedroom before moving to the living room, kitchen and then the bathroom, before ending up back in your room once more. 

His lips met your own as you pulled him by his neck closer to you, wrapping you legs around his waist tighter, effectively getting James to hit a spot deep within you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. 

Quickening his pace, James used his expert fingers to bring you closer to your brink, before you gasped out loudly, quickly reaching your climax. The feeling of you coming around him had James grunting out, thrusting harder to chase his own release. 

Gripping your headboard, he came with a groan, muttering your name over and over as he pulled you close to him, both of you basking in the bliss that came from the several orgasms you’d both experienced over the last few hours. 

“Marry me.” James murmured into you hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Maybe later.” You chuckled, exhaustion now hitting you hard as you both relaxed back in bed. “Too tired now.”

James snickered as he pulled a blanket over the two of you, finding a comfortable position as you curled up together, both utterly content within that perfect moment. 

Five

A lot had changed since you left Hogwarts and being inducted into the Order of the Phoenix was just one of them. 

Your closest friends were also recruited which both reassured you and terrified you. As much as you were glad that you were fighting on the right side of the war with the people you could trust with your life, if anything happened to any of them, you don’t know what you’d do. 

It was suppose to be a small mission, just quick enough to gain intel for the Order which was why Moody chose only a select few of you to complete it. 

James, Remus and you, accompanied by Lily Evans, who you had been properly introduced to in your seventh year, were the four chosen for the task. This of course had annoyed Sirius to no end as he hadn’t been picked and constantly moaned about it the few days prior. 

Accidentally setting off the taboo alarm, death eaters apparated before you causing the four of you to split into two’s, fighting back to back. 

Quickly hitting the three death eaters before you with a stunning spell, you turned and shot another ‘stupefy’ at one who had their wand aimed at Lily. She successfully took out a couple more as she was back to back with you, sharing a grin at how well both of your training had helped you.  

Glancing over at James unconsciously, you spotted one sneak up behind him as he was separated from Remus after one death eater blew up the floor beneath them. 

With the first spell that flew to mind, you aimed your wand at the advancing threat, shooting a bat bogey hex at them, just as their killing curse missed James by inches, only for him to be hit by a weak confundus charm.

You were certain your heart skipped several beats due to the stress and anxiety as you dropped to your knees next to him on the ground. His nose was obviously broken from one spell shot at him and a dazed expression was present on his face.

Taking his face in between your hands, you quickly got a good look at him to check for more injuries as Lily and Remus stunned the last of the attackers and started to round them up. 

“James, can you hear me?”

“Y/N,” he grinned widely, “what are you doing here?”

“Saving your arse from being killed.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on your face at how dopey your boyfriend looked. 

“You always save my arse, I think you quite like my arse really.” James snickered loudly like he had just told a funny joke. “I think you might want to marry my arse. Ooh, I think you should really marry me though.”

You chuckled at him, quickly fixing his broken nose and helping him up. 

“It means you’ll have to actually propose to me then, with a proposal better than that, my love.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

James nodded, deep in thought before his eyes lifted to spot Remus and immediately he waved an arm to try get his attention.

“MOONY! I NEED YOUR HELP TO PROPOSE.”

Six

The truth was, as much as James joked about it, and as much as he said it within the span of meeting you, you did not expect it for one moment when he actually asked you to marry him. 

Saturday started off as any normal weekend would.

With the promise from Dumbledore to call only if it was an emergency, your group of friends was given the day off and so a plan was set in motion to have dinner at yours and James’ flat. Despite popular belief, James could actually cook very well and so insisted on whipping up a roast dinner for you all, shooing you out of the kitchen when you tried to help. 

Sitting around your dining table with your closest friends, you couldn’t have asked for a better day. It was the first in a while where everyone could relax slightly and take the time to enjoy themselves. 

Remus and you were in a discussion about a book he had recommended to you, when James entered the room with the meal, putting it in the centre of the table. Whilst Sirius was avidly denying James could cook, Lily and you snickered between you as you watched the boys interact with each other. 

The meal went by quickly, everyone enjoying their time together before Lily and you cleared the plates away as a compromise, after James cooked everything. 

You didn’t suspect anything going on until you reentered the room to find the boys in a hushed discussion, giant smiles on their faces, jumping away from each other after noticing you return. 

“Everything okay?” You asked slightly suspicious as the four boys shrugged off your concerns. 

“Yeah, absolutely perfect, wanna sit down?” Sirius wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you to the living room with the others following. 

“You’re acting weird, Siri.” 

“I am weird, honey, I was born into the House of Black.”

With a smile and narrowed eyes, you decided to ignore whatever secret it was the boys had, and focused on enjoying the time you had together.

It wasn’t until James stood and grabbed your hands, pulling you up from your seat, that you became slightly suspicious again. 

“Y/N, if you don’t mind, I’d like to say something to you and all our friends.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he brought you closer to him, pressing a kiss to your head. Wrapping your own arm around his waist in turn, you cuddled close to him, feeling absolutely content. 

“As we all know,” James began, catching the attention of the small group, “it had been an absolute shock for most of you hear today, that I can actually cook a meal and not poison anyone.”

A round of snickers passed around the group as James rolled his eyes at your reactions. 

“We also all know that me being able to cook, is far from the most shocking thing to happen to us all. The biggest shock, was of course, the Gryffindor quidditch team losing to Slytherin when this little minx showed up and stole the show!” 

“Here here!” Sirius agreed, lifting his glass of Firewhiskey in agreement.

“Another shock was also when I asked her on a date and she agreed, yet I think that was more Y/N’s mistake than anything.” James chuckled out, now looking slightly more nervous than he did before. “If we’re talking about biggest shocks throughout our relationship, her agreeing to move in with me was another, along with my shock when I discovered what she could do with her tongue-”

“James!”

“Ow! Okay, fine, no bedroom talk!”

The punch to his arm barely phased James’ smile though as he grinned at you so wholeheartedly, you think you might melt on the spot. 

“Anyway, one thing that probably isn’t a shock is the countless times I’ve mentioned my intentions to you. Which is why...”

James unravelled his arm from your waist as he quickly caught something thrown at him by Remus, before dropping to one knee in front of you.

You were sure your heart had stopped. 

“I’m now going to ask you again, legitimately this time.”

Opening up the small white box, a gorgeous diamond and ruby ring was readily positioned, shining up at you as your eyes flicked from the ring, to James and back repeatedly. 

“Y/N, I know I’ve said this before, but please, marry me?!”

Throwing your arms around his neck, you must’ve repeated the word ‘yes’ over and over again as James proceeded to kiss you, before slipping the ring on your finger. 

In that moment, surrounded by your closest friends and the man you loved more than anything, you felt the happiest you ever had and wished for nothing more than to live in that moment forever. 

Harry Potter Taglist:

@ochrythum @hahee154hq @loonyslytherin @fleur-tysworld @la3divine @fiantomartell​

Permanent Taglist: 

@whatthefuckimbisexual​ 

[heyyyharry]

Happier

(inspired by happier by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.4k

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Part 1: Drivers License

Part 2: Deja Vu

A/N: I edited the original lyrics to match the POV :)

.

.

.

Harry had come up with a thousand scenarios of how this day would play out. Actually, he’d been thinking of this day since the moment he’d received the news. He didn’t dare to hope that she’d say yes to coming back for a sequel. He’d been sure that they would write her character off, give a lame excuse for how his love interest could not make a return and make his character forget about her completely to move on with a new girl in town. It would have been great if it was that easy in real life. Once someone was written off the script, they were gone for good. Real-life relationships were not that simple. Goodbye didn’t mean ‘never see you again’. You would still share the same friend circle and social bubbles, and it was worse when you two worked in the same industry. Harry didn’t know how he’d lasted a year without running into her, not since the Grammys.

“Didn’t you two date?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, but his eyes stayed glued on Y/N from across the room. She wasn’t looking his way, too busy saying hello to everyone else. “No,” he repeated, more to himself than to his co-star. “We didn’t.”

“But she wrote an entire album about you,” said the other twin. What was her name again? Lulu?

“Luna!” cried her sister, Lex. “You can’t ask him that!”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said with a tight smile, slightly annoyed by the blonde twins, but he didn’t want to seem like an ass on the first day of filming. “And I don’t know if it was for me. You should ask Y/N.”

“Ask me what?”

Harry flinched when he looked up and saw Y/N padding towards them. She hugged the twins, who seemed way too excited. Harry guessed they were Y/N’s fans. They gave off crazy fangirl vibes, probably just pretending not to know the drama to interrogate him. He couldn’t blame them for assuming he was the villain and definitely could not blame Y/N for portraying him as one. It was more important that he knew who he was and how much he had changed since his last relationship. Maybe they could finally be friends.

“Were they bothering you?” Y/N asked him once the twins had left.

Harry nodded. “They’re your friends?”

“Oh, I met them last year on tour. I’m surprised you don’t know them. They were on Disney.”

“I don’t watch Disney,” Harry admitted with a smile. “Well, not today’s Disney.”

“Understandable.” Y/N nodded and bit her lip. She seemed guarded with her straight back and hands hidden behind her. She eyed him up and down, quite subtle yet noticeable. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” he said, nodding slowly. “You?”

“Yeah, but mostly tired because of tour.”

“You’re done?”

“Yup, last night was the last show.”

“Nice.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Nice?”

Harry blinked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Y/N giggled. “You still sound very...you.”

“Well, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, you should. But it’s been a year so…I mean, you haven’t changed much.”

“Right,” he said lowly, his eyes falling to his feet. Harry supposed he should say something else, perhaps bringing up another random topic to discuss, but all he could think about was what had happened between them. Things had been messy, hadn’t they? How could they go back to before that? Before her first song about him. Before he’d chosen someone else over her.

Or he could talk about her new relationship. She’d been in a happy relationship for almost six months, right? No wait, hadn’t they broke up two weeks ago? He wasn’t sure because he hadn’t been catching up. If they’d broken up, he’d sound like an ass to even mention her ex’s name. He should just stay quiet.

“I’ll see you later?” she said, gesturing at her stylist who was waiting by the door.

Harry could ask her right now -- the reason she’d agreed to film the sequel to their first movie together. He’d heard from a very reliable source that she’d specifically asked her agent to decline any project that he was in. So did this mean they were good? That she didn’t hate him anymore? He could have gathered his courage and got the answer right then…

“Yeah, see you.”

...but he didn’t.

And so she gave him a smile and a little wave, then happily returned to her stylist.

.

.

.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

“See you, Annie!” Y/N said as she put the rest of her things into her tote bag. Her new driver had got her schedule mixed up, and so she had to wait here for another half an hour. She was in no rush. It had been a light first day, and she’d had a fun time getting to know the new cast members and catching up with old friends.

She sat on the sofa in the lobby, legs crossed, texting her best friend about her day. She’d purposely left out the short off-screen conversation with Harry, and her best friend didn’t even bother to ask. In their world, he didn’t exist, and his name was censored in every conversation like a curse word that was even worse than ‘cunt’. Nevertheless, she didn’t hate him anymore. She was doing just fine on her own, being busy with her career, and she’d been in a happy relationship after her fall out with him.

She and the guy, a model, had broken up two weeks ago due to long distance and some differences that they could not change. They had ended on good terms and decided to stay friends. They said you could only stay friends with your ex when you still had feelings for each other, or you had never loved each other that much in the first place. For her, it was probably the latter. Her previous relationship had been more platonic than romantic, apparently. So she had nothing but the best to say about him.

As she was going through her camera roll, just reminiscing about the past, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up to find Harry. He offered a smile and gestured to the spot beside her on the sofa. “May I sit here? My ride is late.”

“Yeah, sure.” She hurriedly scooted over.

“Good job today,” he said. “You were great.”

“Thanks, so were you.” She smiled, and they both looked away at the same time. This was so awkward. She hated small talk. She’d never had to have small talk with Harry. Conversations with him used to be so easy and natural and silly. Whatever this was, it wasn’t them.

“Can we just be normal?”

At first, Y/N thought she’d been the one who’d said it, so when she realised it’d been Harry, she was speechless.

He swallowed and sat a bit straighter, still not looking at her. “I don’t want us to be weird and awkward.”

“Okay,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “Wanna try again?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, not to sound like an ass but when Joey kept forgetting his lines, I was so pissed off, I could throw a chair at the wall.”

“Right?!” exclaimed Y/N, feeling free to have finally broken out of her shell. “Like, he doesn’t even have many lines. I know he’s new but damn...you can’t get far if you don’t learn your goddamn lines.”

Harry shook with laughter. “Oh God, we sound like dicks, don’t we?”

“Maybe.” Y/N laughed, covering her mouth. “But you know what? We can’t be nice in this industry. It’s impossible.”

“Shhh, if someone heard this, we would be into big trouble.”

“Oh please, I’ve had worse articles written about me than ‘Y/N speaks facts about her lazy co-star’.”

Harry tossed his head back and cackled. “The worst one I’ve got this week was ‘Harry Styles hates therapists.’”

“What?!” Y/N gasped. “No way! That’s so stupid!”

“Right?” Harry rolled his eyes. “I could get all my therapists to speak up for me but I’m kinda immune to bullshit now.”

“Therapists? Like plural?”

“Yeah, one in every city.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N rubbed her hands onto her legs. “Rough year?”

Harry���s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he leaned back. “You have no idea.” Then he swept his hair out of his eyes, sucked in a breath, and finally looked at her. “I wish I could have talked to you, though.”

She bit her tongue, knowing what she was about to say next would disappoint her best friend so much, but she had to. “So do I.”

Harry looked taken aback before his lips curled into a smile. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I haven’t talked to you in a year, and I feel like I know everything that’s happened to you except that I don’t.”

What he’d just said might make no sense for most people, but Y/N knew exactly what he meant. She nodded and wetted her lip. “You only know as much as everyone else does.”

“Yeah, I got updates on you from the news and our friends.”

“Same.” Y/N smiled back. “I hate how they write articles about your new haircut but not mine.”

“I like your new hair colour.”

“Thanks. I like your new car.”

Then they both burst out laughing. It was fun and also a little bit strange that Y/N didn’t feel the same anxiety talking to him as she used to. It must be because they had grown and were now meeting again as better people.

“Damn, my ride's here,” Y/N said as she read the text from her driver. “I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry stood up and followed Y/N to the entrance. “Hey, just wondering--”

“Yeah?”

“Am I...am I still blocked?” He looked a bit flustered as she tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “On your phone. Because I remember you having my number blocked--”

“I unblocked you on your birthday.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugged. “I should’ve sent you a happy birthday text but...I didn’t want your girlfriend to get the wrong ideas.”

“My ex.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They smiled at each other one last time before saying goodbye. Y/N knew it was silly, but she was hoping he would go after her.

Ding.

A notification popped up when she was in the car. She was almost home, and it was from Harry’s number. He’d sent her a link with a message that said, “Hope you like it :)”.

Curious, she tapped on it and was directed to an audio file titled ‘Track 5’. The upload date was last year. About two weeks after their short conversation at the Grammys.

Hurriedly, she fumbled inside her bag for her iPods and put it on before she pressed play.

“Hey, Jeff, I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this song. Listen and let me know if it should go on the album.”

Then came the piano intro. It sounded good, so Y/N wondered how it hadn’t ended up on his last album.

But when he started to sing...

We ended a while ago Your friends are mine, you know, I know You've moved on, found someone new One more guy who brings out the better in you

And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But he’s so nice, he’s so funny Does he mean you forgot about me?

Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

And does he tell you you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen? An eternal love bullshit he might not even mean Remember when you were with me I meant it when you heard it first from me

And now I'm pickin' him apart Like cuttin' him down will make you miss my wretched heart But he’s charming, he looks kind He probably gives you butterflies

I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy I wish you all the best, really Say you love him, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on him I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

The song was for her. He’d written it when her new relationship had gone public. Y/N sat there, staring blankly ahead until the honking of a car tore open her inner peace, and reality came crashing back in. The driver dropped her off at her house. Instead of going inside, she stood on her front steps and replayed the song one more time. When it ended, she decided to text him: Why didn’t this make it to the album?

She didn’t know where he was now, but it showed ‘typing’ in less than a second, as if he’d been waiting in their chat since he’d sent that link.

You would’ve hated me, Y/N.

True, she replied. Still, I would’ve loved the song lowkey. And added, I love it btw.

He took so long to type that it was driving her crazy. She flopped down on the concrete stair with her phone clutched in her hands, her heart thundering against her ribcage. Anxiety popped like a balloon when his message appeared: Were you happier?

She reread it again and again.

No.

I wasn’t either, he responded. I kept getting deja vu.

Ha, nice reference.

That song is my guilty pleasure. Love listening to you roasting me on loop.

That last message made Y/N bury her face into her palm and giggle like a fool. She thought for a second and wrote: I could come roast you in person now if that’s what you prefer. I think we’ve never had a proper roasting.

Can we meet, Y/N? Or are you busy now?

No, not busy.

Great, I’ll pick you up.

Just tell me where, she responded with a smile on her face. I got my drivers license now :)

[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (part 2)

Warning - smut (eventually....)

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You were finishing up your coffee, grateful that Cillian didn't hang around after grabbing his. Suddenly you heard Anto shouting in the yard outside. You told Liane you'd find her later, and headed out to him. He was pacing the grounds on his phone, the anger evident in his face. With an abrupt "Fuck you!" down the line, he hung up, kicking a rock across the courtyard in frustration.

"Anto? What's wrong?" You approached nervously.

"We start filming in three hours, and one of the cast had dropped out!!"

"What? Who?"

"Rachel Foster. She was supposed to play Tommy Shelby's girl."

"Oh shit.."

"Oh shit in-fucking-deed. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?! I can't call someone in at this short notice!"

"I don't know anyone who's even available.." he suddenly looked at you, you squirmed a little, you recognised that look.

"You know, it's not too late to reconsider my offer y/n."

"Anto we talked about this, I'm not an actress."

"But you used to be! And you were the best I knew!"

"When you offered me a role in this I was flattered beyond belief, I truly was, but my role is as a professor now, not an actress. I gave that all up nearly a decade ago!"

"Think about it - you're here anyway! She was only meant to film this week, it's a few scenes with Tommy, nothing major.. she's not even lasting the whole series it's just a few scenes I swear it. At least let me do a casting call with you? I'll pay you for your time, even if you don't want to do it? It's win-win! I'm desperate here y/n..."

You thought about it. You enjoyed the theatre shows you used to be involved in years ago so much, but then you were offered the job at Birmingham University and it was too good an opportunity to miss - a steady wage, guaranteed income.. the thought of going back to being a struggling actress made you very nervous.

"One casting call. If it doesn't work, I'm out and you'll have to find someone else Anto."

"Oh you fucking legend... You BEAUTIFUL legend!!!" He scooped you up and spun you round in a circle, before dragging you over to costume and makeup.

An hour later, you were in costume, hair done, makeup on, ready for the camera. You stood in the set for the Garrison, Anto giving you the once over for the short scene he'd got planned for the casting call.

"Anto you didn't say anything about kissing Tommy!" You groaned, reading the paper he handed you.

"It's one kiss - we need to make sure you have chemistry. You know these scenes are always filmed first y/n."

"You fucking owe me Byrne." He grinned his cheesiest grin yet, allowing you time to get to know your lines and the scene. You were lost in it, focussing on getting yourself into a character for the first time in years.

"Y/n?" An Irish brogue suddenly dragged you out of your prep, and you nearly dropped the whiskey glass you were holding as you were practising a scene.

"Holy fuck..."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you - " he held out his hand, chuckling at your outburst. "I'm Cillian. I'll be playing Thomas Shelby."

"I, uh, I know who you are, I'm Y/n..."

"I know, Anto tells me you're Rachel's replacement? Really appreciate you stepping in like this, I know it's all a bit weird. Just take your time, okay? There's no rush, and no pressure to get it perfect, just relax. I know how intense these things can be."

"Thank you. I'm sorry if I'm shit..." You laughed, your stomach in knots.

"You won't be! You wanna stop at any point, tell me. No pressure, remember that. I'm looking forward to it."

"To what? Me throwing a whiskey glass at you?"

"No, not that bit," he smiled, his blue eyes glittering in the stage lights behind you.

"Right then you two, are you ready?" Anto called, and you pulled yourself together. Taking a deep breath, the scene began.

"You promised me Thomas. You said you were going legit!! Now I find out you have guns hidden away from the fucking IRA??"

"Clara, you have to trust me! I AM going legit but I need money behind me to do it - this is our way out of here!"

"You're a fucking liar Shelby. Four years I waited for you. Four fucking years you wrote to me promising me a life of safety, no more having to watch our backs, no more Peaky fucking Blinders, and you lied through your fucking teeth!" You threw the glass, missing his face by a mere inch.

He ducked, and approached you carefully, hands out to catch your arms as they flailed around. A sudden flick of your wrist in the wrong direction caught him off guard and you hit him. Full force on the side of his cheek.

"Oh fuck!! Shit I'm so sorry!!"

"Quite the left hook you've got there!!" He laughed, regaining his composure, rubbing his face. A decent shade of red now blossoming across his cheek. Anto was in stitches the other side of the camera and you shot him a glare.

"I can't believe you've just smacked the star of the fucking show!" He laughed.

"You're certainly feisty enough for Clara's character, I'll give you that!" Cillian smirked. You were mortified.

"I really am sorry..."

"No harm done, I'm fine. I've had worse. Come on, let's finish this yeah?" You were convinced you'd screwed it up, but Anto calling Action brought you back into the scene.

Cillian cleared his throat and approached you again, you could see him trying not to laugh though and you couldn't help but giggle a little, which set him off too.

"I'm sorry, really I am!" You panicked.

"That was my fault, I was too busy watching her arms!" Cillian smiled.

"Guys I really like what I'm seeing here. There's definitely chemistry on screen. Why don't you two go rehearse a little more together and come back in 30 minutes?" Cillian nodded and turned to you.

"Fancy a coffee?" He asked. You nodded and he led you over to the trailers behind the set.

"Are we not going to the cafeteria?"

"Not unless you want to rehearse in front of your Uni class?" He smirked. You shook your head and followed him into a decent sized trailer at the back. He flicked the kettle on, telling you to take a seat while he made the coffee.

"So why did you give up the theatre? You're clearly very good, else Anto wouldn't have requested you?"

"It wasn't going anywhere. I was in the West End, Broadway, Galway.. just seemed to be bouncing around with no real direction. I wanted to get into film or TV work but the roles were in high demand. And it became very clear very quickly that I wasn't the right kind of actress the movie makers wanted as a leading lady."

"Really? Why?"

"I wasn't prepared to get my tits out at every audition like the others I guess?" You shrugged. "I auditioned for a horror movie once in Hollywood. Some big budget thing that never ended up happening anyway, but the director wanted me to audition in this skimpy little dress - barely covered my ass never mind my thighs. Wouldn't audition me unless I wore it, so I threw it at him and walked out. Kinda blacklisted from then on."

"That's horrendous? Which director?"

"Cant even remember his name now it was so long ago. It doesn't matter anyway, the movie was scrapped before production and I landed the job at the university. Secure, stable, good money - couldn't ask for more really. And the kids are so great, Cillian, full of passion and enthusiasm! They're so inspiring they really are!"

"I'm meeting some of them later, I'm looking forward to it. My youngest wants to get into the industry. Been trying to put him off for years but he's such a little showman. Exactly like I was at his age."

"Is that Jack?" You asked.

"Yeah. His mam is keen on him getting into it but she hated me going off for months on end filming. One of the reasons she divorced me last year."

"I heard about that. I'm sorry.."

"No don't be! We get on better now than we ever have. Only stayed together for the kids you know? Milk and sugar?" You nodded, and he handed you the cup.

"This scene is awkward, I've never done a scene like this before," you confessed, taking a sip.

"Like what?"

"A kiss? How do you kiss someone without actually kissing them?"

"You just do it, I guess. Once you're in character it just happens. I won't use tongues I promise - nothing personal, it's just one of my rules."

"That makes it less awkward I suppose!"

"Exactly. Although didn't stop Scarlett Johansson that one time... Nearly got me shot by the wife that one did!" You remembered that scene in Girl with a Pearl Earring and laughed.

"You know, I've learned over the years that if you do those scenes first it makes all the others much easier," he said, putting his coffee down and taking yours from you, placing it on the table next to his. He took your hands and stood you up in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

"What?"

"Not like that, I'm going to 'movie-kiss' you. Show you how it's done. Trust me - you won't feel awkward after this."

"I beg to differ..."

"Come on y/n, what have you got to lose?" My senses? You thought. My mind, maybe? You were hesitant, massively hesitant. You weren't even sure you were even going to go through with this. He glanced at his watch.

"We have five minutes, close your eyes and trust me." He nodded at you, and you took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

His fingers back on your cheek, this was just a reenactment of the scene but those fingers felt like lightening bolts. You could sense him moving closer, and his lips brushing yours. You were almost frozen to the spot until he whispered for you to relax.

"Okay, okay... I'm relaxed.. try again.." he leaned in again, your lips meeting properly. His hand in the back of your hair pulling you a little closer. You fell into it, your hands reaching round his back. As promised, he didn't use his tongue, which felt really strange at first but you quickly got used to it. Your mouths meshed together perfectly as you found your rhythm. A few minutes of this, before he pulled away, another gentle kiss against your lips as he did.

"Wow..." You gasped, opening your eyes. If someone had told you this morning you'd be kissing Cillian Murphy by lunchtime you'd have had them commited to the local loony bin, yet here you were. He didn't speak, and his hand was still on your cheek, brushing it lightly.

"Didn't plan on making you blush so much."

"Didn't plan on kissing Cillian Murphy when I woke up this morning," you laughed.

"Ready to do that again?"

"Again?"

"Just to make sure we got it right, of course."

"Yes.. of course.." he moved in quickly, but it felt different this time. His lips crashed against yours, and you definitely felt his tongue brush your lips a couple of times but you didn't reciprocate. You both moved backwards, your thighs hitting the table behind you, coffee nearly spilling over.

"Fuck, you okay? I'm sorry.." he pulled away to make sure none had spilled on you.

"I'm fine, it didn't fall, I'm fine... I uh, I think we've got the kiss nailed down though..." You brushed your hair out of your face and looked to the floor.

"Yeah, I think you're right.." your eyes met again and you both smiled. Before he could speak though, Anto was at the door knocking.

"Ready for round 2 guys?" He called. Cillian nodded at you, and you nodded back, both of you heading out to try the scene again.

[aroundthewaygirlao3]

I know there's a lot of angst floating around the Portwell fandom about the introduction of Val and that the character will break up Gina and EJ. And it's not unfounded… that's a well worn teen TV trope.

But I genuinely can't make it fit Gina's character arc. (It doesn't serve EJ's either, but that's another post.)

Gina's whole arc has been about learning to connect, to trust, to build something lasting. Up until she got to East High, she's comfortable with life being transient and change being a constant. She says as much when she tells EJ it's "sometimes stressful, sometimes freeing." In fact, her major hurt so far came from sticking around, not leaving. There's no growth for her in a narrative where her nascent ability to forge connection gets trashed by her being dumped for another girl. That would play into her expectations of life that nothing stays, and move her backward, not forward. And while a good character regression/heel turn can be fun, I can't see them shifting Gina's narrative THAT drastically, especially when they already have (and seemingly have promoted) Lily to fill that role. Gina was already given a chance to slip back to "mean girl" during the BATB auditions and they made it very obvious she chose not to. It seems unlikely to revisit it.

I also feel like a traumatic breakup where EJ chooses someone else would have obvious reverberations through Gina's relationship with Ashlyn. The writers made a conscious choice to have Gina move in with the one character who has an enduring tie to EJ. Given the season one dynamics we saw, a lot of other characters could have been a more obvious fit than Ashlyn, but that's who she ends up living with. And that living situation is tenuous… we only know her mom agreed to let her stay in Salt Lake to finish the year, not remain indefinitely. Having something bad happen between EJ and Gina wouldn't bode well for Gina remaining in Salt Lake. Writing off two of the "core four" at once doesn't seem to be the plan, so there's some need to plot armor Gina and Ashlyn's relationship to keep Gina in the story at all. Which would seemingly provide some cover for Gina and EJ as well.

Now, that said, is there still space for them to have a healthy breakup, even one where Val is a catalyst? Sure. There could be an arc there where they realize even though they care about each other, the timing is off and EJ should be with someone in the same "stage" as he is. It would be a fairly realistic take on a relationship between a sophomore and senior (and I say that as someone who DID date a senior as a sophomore). I could get behind it if it's well written. BUT that's kind of "been there, done that" with the Rini S2 arc… that individual growth needs to take priority over them as a couple. And that worked beautifully for both their individual arcs. But Gina's arc has consistently bent in the other direction, towards interdependence and learning to rely on others. It wouldn't serve that narrative at all, it would actually fly in the face of it. Not to mention recreating a whole dynamic with another main pairing seems a little lazy. (Never mind ANOTHER love triangle is lazy, too… but that's more from the EJ perspective.)

I feel like a much more likely way they'd use Val specifically for Gina's development is to be someone who brings out Gina's insecurities, which she and EJ figure out how to work through together. ESPECIALLY with Meg Donnelly only billled as a guest star vs. regular or recurring. A guest star becoming a serious love interest for a core four character seems unlikely, and having her drop in just to break up a couple and bounce is a little too deus ex machina in reverse. I see that role being used the way Asher Angel and Jordan Fisher were, to make them confront their feelings more directly, maybe pushing them towards a love confession.. I actually wrote a whole fanfic about this very scenario.

At the end of the day, the writers are going to do with this what they will. But I can currently see a lot more narrative potential in leveraging Val to move them closer, not break them up.

We'll see! Come on Season 3!

[ve1vetyoongi]

wherever you will go | jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: actor!oc, director!jungkook, smut, angst, humour.

Word count: 21k

Summary:  Not much happens when you grow up by the coast. Tourists come and go, the theatre where you work shows the same shows over and over and there’s always sand and salt in the air. Your dreams of making it big in the city are exactly that: dreams. When your hopes of becoming an actress are shattered into a million pieces, you find yourself getting drawn to a captivating up-and-coming movie director by the name of Jeon Jungkook. With his bright eyes and charming smile, he seems determined to glue your pieces back together -- even if it means leaving Ocean City behind for good.

Warnings: themes of loss/grief, mentions of death of a parent, dom!jungkook, dom/sub themes, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f recieving).

Rating: Mature.

A/N: Hello loves! HAPPY JK DAY!! This fic is a lil celebration of our golden boy Jungkook so I hope you enjoy!! This whole fic is sickeningly fluffy and reads like a pretentious YA novel but ya girl wrote this while she was stuck in quarantine a few weeks ago and I debated not posting this bc I lowkey love it lowkey hate it so pleasedonthateme if it’s bad LOL. Also -- just incase you haven’t read the warnings already there is a running theme that deals with the loss of a parent (a topic very close to my heart, hence why this piece was especially healing to write.) so reader discretion is advised if that is triggering to you in any way shape or form!!!! P.P.S Largely unedited so pls bare with any mistakes!

Prelude.

You're late for your work shift, you note, as you catch sight of your watch face glaring up at you menacingly from the arm clutching the handle bars of your bike. As if your mood couldn't get any more miserable -- the dreary morning drizzle that falls from the sky and drips icily down the back of your nape was bad enough.

Goddamn, you groan to yourself as you will your feet to pedal ever faster. Now my hair is gonna be frizzy.

It's a Saturday and the theatre where you work always opens earlier at the weekends. You promised you'd be on time today, but yet here you are, speeding down the worn in sandy sidewalks of your seaside town a whole block away when you should've been opening up half an hour ago.

It's a habit of yours, being late. And as hard as you try, you just can't change a habit. But it can't be helped you suppose. Continuity is all you've ever known. That's the thing about living in a tiny seaside town. Things never change.

The view from your bedroom window has been the same for as long as you can remember — Ocean City — Aka, block after block of rainbow coloured houses with flaky paint leading up to the harbour where boats bob nonchalantly and fishermen reel in their catches beneath the gull filled sky. Beyond it the beach; greyish rolling waves and upturned pebbles nestled atop of hard sand in the winter and clear water and brightly coloured beach towels and brave surfers in the summer.

Nobody ever leaves, and the tourists that arrive in summer never stay. Life becomes a predictable practice, just each day lived out to the next in an endless cycle of never ending continuity. It's suffocating and endless and sometimes you feel like you're just a pawn on a giant chess board, destined to move one agonising square forward at a time, never diagonally. It's hard to change directions when you've been taught to stick to what you know.

You didn't always live here, in this town of continuity. You lived in the big city for a while, where no day was the same as another. But after your mother died you and your older brother were shipped off to live with your dad, who wouldn't know the definition of adapting if it hit him square in the face. He's always been the same square shouldered, balding dude in his forties who never wanted kids and never quite got over losing your mother to the big buck actor she ran off with when you were two.

So that's how you ended up here. Late for work at your job in the country's most prized vacation spot. And your boring reality.

You roll past the beach huts on the shoreline that alternate between vibrant pink and muted blue, barely paying attention to the boardwalk with its little boat house that stretches out into the horizon like a crooked finger. When it gets dark, you can spot the pier carnival lights flashing in the distance from here as they dance across the reflection of the pale white moon and play among the waves.

Even now, the yellow lights of the ornate street lamps that line the water's front shine like tiger's eyes against the sky just like they always have when you turn down the familiar route that takes you past the winding lanes of trinket shops and the happy hour bars and the carnival that feels strangely empty at such an early hour, not a single rollercoaster ride in operation.

Before long you're skidding to a stop outside of the The Crestmont, the old theatre where you work. It's everything you'd expect from a vintage cinema; pink and blue neon lights and a gold trimmed ticket booth out front with a three-sided marquee that extends from the front of the building like a brightly lit airport runway. You hurry beneath it, grateful for the protection it provides from the rain that has started to come down in lashes now, before heading over to the rack around the back of the building where you can chain your bike.

The Crestmont used to be somewhat of a hotspot back in the day or so your told, but these days it only shows cartoons at a discounted price for the neighbourhood kids and the occasional local production of some worn out musical everyone has seen a hundred times before. It's lost all it's magic, everyone says. But you disagree; you probably spend more time here than anyone, and there's magic in every inch of this place.

From the red velvet curtains to the grand chandelier, The Crestmont is one of a kind. Sometimes you disappear into the theatre by yourself for a while unbeknownst to your manager. You can almost taste the laughter and the tears and the love that has been spilled and shared unapologetically amongst these seats. Pure magic.

Your mom left a piece of herself here, too. If you close your eyes you can hear her laughter spilling out into the theatre, or her lilting singing voice filling every nook and cranny like a haunting siren. She was the Crestmont's star. Ocean City's sweetheart.

There's a wall of fame in the lobby. It's covered in portraits crested with gold frames, all filled with pictures of the Crestmont's greatest performers. You've spent hours there — (turns out it's the perfect hiding spot from your manager) — fingers tracing the plaques beneath each one, all inscribed with names that townsfolk whisper with dreamy looks in their eyes. Some are black and white, some colour, but all of them depict pretty faces with beaming smiles that never seem to fade.

Not even your mom's. Her smile is pearly and bright, right above the plaque with her birthdate. And her death date.

And right there at the end, an empty frame. Your frame. You can feel it. You already know how you'll pose for your picture. Hair over one shoulder, hand on hip, smile so convincing that it'll be like every happiness in your heart is written right across your forehead proudly, and you won't have to dull it any longer.

You finish hooking a chain around the handlebars of your bike, catching sight of your reflection in the darkened windows. Staring back at you is a girl dressed in a maroon v-neck with a preppy dicky bow tied around her collar. You frown. The white shirt itches and the high waisted pants make your crotch look weird but the uniform is compulsory. The only thing uglier is the sour expression on your face, which you try to smooth out with your thumb, experimenting with plastering a sickly smile to your face instead. It might be convincing if your lips didn't strain and your eyes weren't so prone to rolling without your permission.

You need to learn to hide your emotions, your father said. You have your feelings written across your face. Customers don't like that.

It's true; customer's didn't usually like you, your unforgiving face or when you spilled cola down their blouse or spat in their popcorn. One more complaint and you were on the path to being fired once and for all, and although in some ways you would be glad to say goodbye to the stupid slushie machine that always gets stuck and the ungrateful customers and the goddamn uniform, you can't loose this job.

Not when it's your ticket to making it big. Then customers will point to your picture as they pass and clutch their chest with a snide superiority, Oh! Can you believe she served me a cola once? I always knew she was gonna make it! instead of Would it kill you to smile a little, honey?

So you swallow a sigh and make your smile as convincing as possible and march inside of the ornate theatre doors of The Crestmont, hoping that today may be the day where things finally change for once.

Where it begins

"I'm going to work!" You call as you you pull a baseball cap down over your hair to cover it's unbrushed wildness. "I won't be back for a while so don't wait up, okay Taehyung?"

You pause with your hand on the door, listening carefully for a response; the small house you live in pulsates with the bass of some indie rock album your brother and his friends are obsessed with at the moment, and your eyes roll when you peer up the staircase and find Taehyung's bedroom door firmly closed like always.

With a shake of your head you scribble out a message on a sticky note — GONE 2 WORK. — and leave it for him to read when he eventually emerges from his man cave in search of sustenance and finds you gone.

You brush away the funny ache that nestles in your stomach. This is nothing new. You're used to not being heard. Your dad is always gone for trips you suspect involve more play than work, and your older brother pretends he's not broken by hanging around with the neighbourhood cool kids and barraging himself in his room for days on end. Despite living under one roof it feels as though you're miles apart, an invisible barrier separating you indefinitely.

You weren't always like this; distant, always stepping on eggshells around each other. You were a family once. A happy one. But since the accident there's been an absence in this house, and nothing has been the same since.

Still, you know that beneath Taehyung's standoffish persona, he's still your big brother. He worries about you. So you tack the note to the fridge and make your way outside.

The lawn is already brown despite it only being late May, and summer is shaping up to be hot and sticky, though you live two blocks away from the beach so the coolness of the ocean still thankfully pervades against your perspiring skin, the gulls already calling you with their high pitched squaks from down at the shoreline.

You've barely made it to the end of the drive before there's the sound of knuckles rapping against glass. You look up and your heart jumps into your mouth. Staring back at you is a pair of dark eyes from behind the upstairs windowpane. Even from this distance you can see how they shine, deep and dark like a cup of black coffee, and you'd recognise the annoyingly cute smirk that matches them anywhere.

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung's best friend, and, unfortunately, your crush for as long as you knew what the word love meant.

"Hey, Y/N!" Your heart sinks when the window slides open and a messy head of brown hair sticks out through the gap and points at you with a pout. "You're leaving already? Without me?"

Oh; another thing about Jeon Jungkook. He's also your co-worker, which means you spend 16 hours a week in his company, much to the glee of your heart and the dismay of your conscience.

You weren't exactly surprised when you turned up to the Crestmont theatre for your first shift and were left in the capable hands of none other than Jungkook to teach you the ins and the outs of the popcorn machine and the ticket booth.

For as long as you've known him he's been somewhat of a film buff. He practically grew up holding a camera. You always used watch him and your brother making home movies in the backyard, fit with ketchup sachets for blood and endless costumes from your mom's closet. And the one time you stayed at his house when your dad went away for a while after the accident, you saw all the classic movie posters on his bedroom wall; Casablanca, Singing in the Rain, Jaws. So it made total sense for Jungkook to be at the Crestmont. In fact, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else.

That day you were mostly just surprised that he knew who you were at all. While you had spent years watching him from your bedroom window while he kicked a ball around with Taehyung or avoiding his eyes at the table when he stayed for dinner, he had never so much as glanced in your direction.

Deep down you think the reason he was so quick to take you under his wing is because he knew first hand how hard the accident hit your family. You suppose he feels he owes it to Taehyung to keep you in high spirits.

Although if you weren't you and he wasn't him, you'd swear Jungkook's attentions had become almost flirtatious as of late. He always goes the extra mile to spend time with you, and you even though you know it'll end up with you getting hurt you can't bring yourself to stop him.

You see, Jungkook has a gift for subtle charm. Like how he always sneaks you sodas out back on your lunch break, never forgetting the extra syrup — tooth rottingly sweet just how you like it — slipping one of his own dollars into the cash register to avoid a telling off from your manager. Or how he insists on helping you clean up after the theatre is empty, showing you the best secret places like down the back off seats to find misplaced trinkets and the creaky floorboard where your manager hides his cigarettes. How he insists on walking you home after the evening shift, even if he says he's going this way to see Taehyung anyway.

You've spent countless hours pondering over whether his sweet talking words mean as much to him as they do to you. And as much as you know it's unlikely for someone like Jeon Jungkook to ever have feelings for you, you can't help the way your heart speeds up every time he shoots you one of his signature bunny smiles that light up his whole face like he's happiness personified. And you can't bring yourself to hate him for it.

"I did call," you respond matter of factly, finally sucking in a breath of courage to turn around and squint up at him through the afternoon sun with a shrug. "But that trash you're listening too was too loud for you guys to hear me."

Jungkook's eyes widen as he fumbles around beneath the windowsill and pops up again holding up a shiny vinyl record sleeve. You recognise it instantly; it's from his favourite film — Submarine. He hardly ever shuts up about it.

"This is not trash. This is, like, the best movie soundtrack ever made!" He shakes his head as he takes the needle off of Taehyung's vintage record player, music ceasing with a scratch, and slips it into the sleeve with a grin. "Good thing I have it downloaded so we can listen to it on the way to work, hm?"

You roll your eyes and tap your foot impatiently, and at that, Taehyung appears behind him.

"You're leaving already?" He frowns, words directed at Jungkook even as he glances through narrowed eyes at you stood awkwardly on the front lawn.

"Yup. My shift starts in twenty." Jungkook shrugs, disappearing into the room for a second before he emerges again with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I can come back afterwards though, if you want?"

Taehyung purses his lips. Even from here you can see the stress lines embedded in his forehead that make him look older than his humble age of nineteen, somehow weak unlike how you always saw him as a kid. Big and strong; untouchable; your brother.

His blunt eyes never quite meet Jungkook's as he shakes his head softly. "'S good. I was gonna try and sleep, anyway, before the sun goes down. Didn't get much shut eye last night. Not with the..."

Nightmares. Taehyung trails off, but you know that's what he's alluding to. The nightmares that turn your big strong brother into a sniffling mess in the dead of night, kicking around mercilessly until you sneak into his bed and whisper to him until he slips into slumber again. Not that you ever acknowledge it in the morning over your bowls of cereal and vacant good morning's.

"Okay." Jungkook's face momentarily falls; a rare occurrence from the boy who seems to be perpetually cheerful. He pats Taehyung on the shoulder gently. "Take care of yourself, okay man?"

Taehyung just nods, letting out a yawn as he rolls into a stretch. "See ya tomorrow."

You're jolted from your thoughts when Jungkook throws his left leg out of the window, then the other, arms bulging in just the right way where they poke out of the sleeves of his plain white tee as he climbs down the drainpipe and lands with a thump on the soles of his high top sneakers.

"Hey kiddo." He grins as he wipes the palms of his hands on the thighs of his ripped jeans, before messing up your hair despite your groan of protest.

"Don't call me that. You're only a year older than me."

You're startled when you meet the pair of warm eyes that glint golden brown in the summer evening light, chest contracting as you look away and break into a fast walk towards the street.

"And you know you can just use the front door right?"

You hear him snort behind you, neglecting to use the front gate and instead launching over the fence so he lands directly in front of you on the sidewalk.

"How am I supposed to impress my best friends little sister if I can't show off my guns?" He flexes his arm, but you just brush past him with a roll of your eyes.

"You're an idiot."

You hear the clunk of his bike chain unhooking from the gate, before a set of wheels pedal up on the sidewalk beside you. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Uh, to work?" You offer bluntly, squinting at him through the sun. "You should be too, we start in fifteen minutes."

"I mean why are you walking? What happened to your bike?"

You roll your eyes. "Some tourist kids slashed the wheels at the beach."

"Shit. Really?" Jungkook tuts, but you don't miss the glint in his eye as he nods towards the pegs on the back of his bike that were made for carrying a passenger."Then I guess it's my lucky day. Hop on, we can ride together."

You come to a standstill, arms crossed tightly. "I'd rather walk."

"Oh come on!" He wiggles his eyebrows. "It'll take double the time if we go on foot, and I recall it being you who got a final late warning last week."

"If we go on foot?" You laugh breathily, determined to stand your ground. "Just go on ahead, I'm good here."

"Well, I'm not exactly going to leave you here alone on the side of the road now am I? So I'll be forced to walk with you. And I'm older than you remember? Look, I'm already out of breath! My legs aren't what they used to be, y'know."

"Fine!" With a pout you take the helmet resting in his front basket and hook it underneath your chin, biting your lip to stop a smile from gracing your lips at the excitement that lights up Jungkook's features. "But only because I want you to shut up."

"Your wish is my command." He says with a pat to your head. "Hold on tight, okay?"

And as you wrap your arms around his waist, you're sure his ears heat up a deep shade of red, even it could just be the evening light playing tricks on you.

The theatre at the Crestmont feels eerily quiet when its empty.

You know that because even though your shift was supposed to end at 5, you offered to stick around to help clean up after today's performance. Phantom of the Opera.

"Jesus," You groan as you pick up another sticky soda cup that someone had kindly spilled all over the ground for you to clean up, dropping the offender into a black trash bag. "Doesn't anyone around here know how to use a trash can?"

You fall into one of the theatre seats with a sigh and run your fingers over the scarlet velvet, worn yet plush, the texture soothing you instantly. You tilt your head back and let the silence engulf you. No orchestra, no musical numbers, no stage crew shouting directions. No whirring cotton candy machine. Just you and the stage.

From here you can see every detail on the high ceiling littered with renaissance-style paintings of mermaids and babies armed with heart shaped bow and arrows. Your mom was an actress. When you were a kid you used to spent hours staring at them while she rehearsed. You were convinced they came alive once the theatre closed up for the night, their cheeky smiles evidence of a secret only you knew.

A trail of rainbows is cast by the grand chandelier hung in the center, and it draws your attention all the way down the aisles and up to the stage.

The Crestmont is only small, fitting perhaps 200 people at most. It's hardly Broadway. But the fire in your chest ignites as you glance side to side before sidling up the creaking wooden steps that wind up to the Crestmont's center stage. Your favourite part of the whole theatre.

It's not the first time you've done this. You often like to come up here after everyone has gone home, even though you technically aren't supposed to. There's a certain magic about being alone up here as you collect the lone roses that were thrown on stage by tonight's audience. Breathing in the musty smell of butter popcorn that lingers on the velvet curtains, feel the warmth of the bright stage lights glazing your skin. Something about it feels like home.

The first time you ever saw the Crestmont stage was on tv, watching a grainy camera shakily capture your mom in the very same spot you find yourself right now.

Your mom used to have a cardboard box filled with her old audition tapes. Everything from Hamlet to A Streetcar Named Desire, she'd starred in it, and you spent hours together in front of the television set trying to memorise the way she spoke your favourite lines and listening to her lilting voice recite backstage anecdotes about her rendezvous with foreign directors who dined on her in Paris or underground parties with celebrities you had never even heard of as she stroked your hair.

It wasn't until you got a little older that you realised that, just like you, your mom was a dreamer. Sure, she'd visited a couple different states and starred in some makeup commercials once, and that was enough to make her a celebrity in a town as small as this.

But really? She was just a small town actress with dreams larger than herself and way larger than the Crestmont where she made her name. And suddenly the gaps in time where she would disappear for weeks — sometimes months — on end no longer made sense to you. If she wasn't drinking cocktails with the prince of Monaco or clubbing in London, then where was she?

"Down town with those no good roadies," Taehyung told you once. "They made all these empty promises. Told her she'd make it big if she just did what they said. But look how that turned out."

That was the day you realised your mom was a better actress than you ever knew.

She always thought that her dreams would come true. She believed it so hard that you believed it too, naively. But who knows? Maybe they would have if she didn't get into an accident on her way to New York for her big break.

It's easy to imagine how your mom felt up here. She always looked so alive and free in those VHS tapes as she danced effortlessly across the stage with an ethereal weightlessness, the theatre silent except for the melodic sweetness of her monologues that drew tears to the eyes of those who listened eagerly.

If you close your eyes you can hear the roar of the crowd, hands clapping furiously. The orchestra tuning their brass in the pit, bows melodic against strings. Flowers landing at your feet. The deep breath of satisfaction as you take your final bow and the curtain closes.

Just like that you're moving across the stage, reciting the lines you know so well...

"You're gonna be a star like me some day," A voice whispers against your ear, soft and gentle. A memory. Your mom. "Just like me."

And just like that, she's there. In the audience, clapping. For you. And you feel invincible.

The sound of applause breaks you out of your trance. Real applause. You find yourself stood center stage, broom in hand, staring out at row after row of empty seats that gape with the same emptiness that was here when you arrived.

Except one of the velvet lined seats is filled now. Right at the front.

"Encore!" Jungkook whistles, the harsh thwacks of his palms clapping together clanging inside your ears. "Do it again! That was amazing!"

Your chest seizes painfully, a sudden bout of panic turning your blood cold. You feel the colour leave your face. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching?

Jungkook is watching you attentively, eyes soft at the edges with wonder. It makes bile rise in your throat. You can't be up here. Not when there's a pair of eyes looking at you, judging.

"I..." You begin, but the words get caught in your throat.

"I can't do this."

The way Jungkook's eyes widen and he lurches forward to catch you is the last thing you see before your vision goes black.

The boardwalk is strangely quiet for a summer evening. It's happy hour so you suppose most vacationers are already in the bars in their I LOVE OCEAN CITY T-shirts drinking cocktails or whatever. Not that you're complaining.

The smell of hotdogs and vinegar from the vans that line the strip still fill the air, snatches of conversations from children begging their parents to let them go on the waltzer one last time barely audible above the tinkling bells of the carousel. The ride operators drink soda's as they fan themselves with rolled up newspapers, grateful for the gentle hubbub on such a sticky evening, and then there's you, caught up in the middle of it all.

The wooden boards of the pier are warm against he backs of your thighs. You're sat with your legs dangling through the peeling guard rail that lines the strip. It was painted pastel blue at some point but years of sea spray and grubby hands made it fade to a sickly green tinge that matches the ocean.

Speaking of, the ocean would usually be directly below your feet, murky and wild, but today the tide has receded right back to reveal a large strip of sand. The stands suspending the pier rest on top of it so that you could walk right under and around them if you wanted to. You and Taehyung used to do that all the time when you were kids. Searching for barnacles. Exploring the dark places.

"Here. Eat up. You totally passed out on me back there. You could probably do with some sugar."

The soft voice beside you is the only thing loud enough to permeate your daydreams. You don't have look up to know who it belongs to. Jungkook.

He peers down at you, sun beating down against his back. He's holding two vanilla ice cream cones, double scooped, and he thrusts one into your hands before mirroring your position at the edge of the boardwalk.

The walk down here from the Crestmont was more or less silent, and your stomach twists now you realise Jungkook wants to talk.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing." You lie. The ice cream is cold and sweet and covers the bitterness. "I just think it's funny."

Jungkook's tongue sneaks out to lick up the melted cream dribbling down his cone. "What is?"

"How this place stays the same but I feel so different." You were born here, raised here. This place was your whole life once, with it's salty air and bustling casino's. But since the accident, something's been bubbling inside you, swelling and crashing like the ocean below that taunts you and you've never felt farther from home in your life as you do now, looking out over the town that just won't budge, just like the funny ache in your chest. "Forget I said it. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."

Jungkook fidgets beside you and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh."It's okay, y'know. To miss her."

Your mom. You know that's who he means. Just the mention of her stings.

"Mhm." You snort. "Tell that to my family. If we all carried on missing mom then we'd be in pretty hot shit by now."

"If it's Taehyung you're worried about, then don't be. He's stronger than he looks."

"Until he's not anymore. And we lose him again just like—" You pause. You hate how you can hear the pain in your voice so you smooth it out. "Just like before. And I can't let that happen. I won't."

Jungkook shifts. As Taehyung's oldest friend he was there for everything in the aftermath of the accident. He was there when you put on a brave face for the sake of your family. He was there when Taehyung couldn't be any more.

"That doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time. Think about it this way. The ocean isn't always this calm right?" He gazes wistfully out over the ocean that swells and crashes against the shore, fingers twirling the gold chain around his neck. "Last winter when we had that huge storm, the waves were so big they smashed right through the pier support beams."

You furrow your brows. "What about it?"

"The ocean was just too much for the pier to bare and it would've come crashing down forever if half the neighborhood didn't come down to the beach in the dead of night, despite the rain, and hold it together until the storm calmed and the emergency repair boats could get to shore."

It's true. You remember how unforgiving the rain was as it pelted down against your back and froze you through to the bone that night as each and every familiar face from your neighborhood came down to the seafront to lend a hand, your family included.

Jungkook was there too. He was the one who knocked on your door in the early hours to spread the word. He got given free churros for life by one of the pier stall owners as a reward.

"What I'm trying to say Y/N, is that Taehyung has you to lean on, right? So who do you have?" Jungkook says, staring at you head on now. His sincerity almost makes you blush.

You bite your lip. Deep down you know that your beams are just as broken as Taehyung's and it's only a matter of time before they come crashing down into the water, and this time there'll be nobody to hold the pieces together.

"I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my ocean."

Jungkook brushes your hand. You flinch, so he pulls it back into his lap. "Well if you ever need a life boat, then you know where I am okay?"

You don't believe him, but he's staring at you so expectantly that you just tell him what he wants to hear. You're good at that.

"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."

Children's laughter bubbles up from the beach. You watch their distant silhouettes dancing among the waves. It's Jungkook who breaks the silence before it settles between you and becomes uncomfortable.

"Anyway, what were you doing up there on the stage today?" He smiles, like he's trying to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were having the time of your life before—"

You feel your cheeks start to burn. How long had Jungkook been watching you at the Crestmont? Had he seen the whole thing?

"It was nothing. I was just being dumb."

"Nothing?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side and punches you playfully. "It didn't seem like nothing."

"It just...it makes me feel close to my mom when I'm on the stage." You admit. "I loved watching her when I was a kid. She was always larger than life in my eyes. She had this way of making you really believe she was someone else. It was like she wasn't just acting -- she was becoming. Sometimes...sometimes I think I liked her better when she was in character."

You shake your head with a small smile. "I like me better when I'm in character. I used to dream about going to New York one day and becoming an actress just like she wanted to. Small town girl making it big in the city and all that." You scoff. "But I'm nothing like her. It's just fun to pretend sometimes."

"You're good. At performing. Like, really good." Jungkook's eyes are wide. When he places a hand on your forearm you don't shake it off this time. "You take after her. Everyone says it."

It's true. There's one photo of your mom in the house. It's in Taehyung's room. When you were younger you thought it was your face staring back at you from behind the glass. Sometimes you'll be walking down the boardwalk or serving soda's at work and you'll hear the whispers. See their heads turn. Is it her?

"Pfft. Looks mean nothing." You scoff. "She was fearless. I can't even speak in front of one person without passing out, let alone a crowd."

Realisation crosses Jungkook's face. "Oh. So that's what happened back there? Stage fright?"

"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "So don't give me the follow your dreams spiel or whatever."

"Hmm." Jungkook uses his arms as a makeshift pillow so he can lay back against the ground. You mirror him, peering through your fingers to watch how the golden rays of the sun swallow his frame. "Remember that play they made us do in middle school?"

"The Nativity?" You raise your eyebrow. It was the first theatre production you were in, before the accident and way before you had stage fright.

"Yeah." He grins. "I was the sheep. Taehyung made fun of me for months afterwards because of that stupid costume my grandma made."

"Yeah." You snort. "You did look sorta dumb."

Jungkook bumps your arm with a playful pout that makes you giggle. "And do you remember how I forgot my lines on stage and nearly pissed myself with stage fright? God, I still remember how mad my dad looked in the front row. We'd practiced that part for weeks. I don't know why it happened. I just froze—" A small smile forms on his lips. "But you didn't. Next thing I know there's a kid in a gold star of Bethlehem costume running on stage to recite my lines for me. You stole the show, remember that? Everyone loved you."

"That was then." You murmur, but you can't suppress the smile tugging at the corners or your mouth. "I'm not the same person."

"You were a year younger than the rest of my class but you auditioned anyway, because you knew that you were the only person who could play the star. Because you were a star."

Jungkook turns so that his head rests on his elbow and you're suddenly so close you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek. Your heart pumps in your ears as you gaze dips down to his rosy lips and back up to his sparkling eyes which bore into yours.

"You still are a star."

The words echo in your ears, soft and sincere. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You lose your breath. And then you jump away, placing a safe distance between your bodies before you can do something you regret.

"And what about you. Are you still a sheep?" You tease, turning your face so he can't see how it burns rosy red.

"Nah. Figured out pretty quickly after that that I was better off behind the camera." He chuckles.

"Oh right. You still have that thing?" You nod to the camera in his lap. It's one of those old ones that looks like the type that needs a film reel and a projector, but it's been modified so there's a little viewfinder at the side to check the footage instead. "Can I see?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"

"Oh! Right!" It's his turn to flush now, scratching the back of his neck as he anxiously thrusts the camera into your hands and pays close attention to the hangnail at the edge of his thumb as you watch the footage.

Your eyes widen when a familiar scene rolls out on the tiny screen. You, on stage at the Crestmont. Jungkook filmed you.

"This is..."

"You." He rushes."Yeah, I know. Sorry if this is awkward—"

"No. Not at all. I just—" You watch in awe as the you inside the camera moves across the stage with an effortless grace. How the lights make your eyes shine and your skin brighter than you remember it being in the mirror this morning. "How did you do that?"

Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"

"Make me look like...that."

"I didn't do anything." Jungkook shrugs. "That's just how I see you."

You could listen to him say that all day, but you stop yourself mid swoon.

"Don't say things you don't mean."

"I do mean it. And I'll show you." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"How?"

He grabs your hand and squeezes it. Tight. "I don't know how yet but I will."

You roll your eyes. "Good luck, Jeon."

"You know I like a challenge." Jungkook laughs, and the melodic sound goes right to your chest. "I'll make you see yourself how I see you. Just wait."

"Since when did you have four wheels?" You call to Jungkook with a quirk of your brow, resting your elbows on the window ledge of the beat up truck he pulls up in outside the Crestmont.

It's a sticky August afternoon and the rusty red vehicle purrs— or more like splutters — in the parking lot as Jungkook untangles your bike from the rack and lifts it into the cargo bed like it's weightless. Just yesterday he came by with his pump and a patch to fix that goddamn slashed tyre, and now he's stealing it?

"Hey! What are you doing with my bike?"

He is clad in nothing but a white vest and board shorts, and you can see perspiration glimmering at his temples as the salty breeze blowing from the beach ruffles the dark curls that flop over his forehead.

"This is my dad's truck," His eyes flash with pride as he hops into the open drivers side door and makes the engine growl. He nods to the empty seat beside him and pushes his dark round sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, fanning his face with his hands. "And you won't be needing your bike today. Now hurry up and get in, loser. I've been waiting ages for your shift to finish and the AC is broken."

You raise a brow. "We're going somewhere?"

"Yeah. Why else would I be waiting for you to get in my truck?"

"I mean, we're going somewhere in this?" You nod towards the truck's worn tires, the fumes that wisp from the exhaust pipe like a lit cigar. "Are you sure it's safe?"

Jungkook notices the way you bite your lip. You don't even have to tell him the worries that are running through your mind. It's as if he can read them like an open book.

"Are you still scared of riding in cars?" He questions, softly.

You nod. That's what an accident does to someone. Makes them scared of something they ordinarily wouldn't even question.

"A little." The breeze ruffles your hair and you hide behind it. "I'm getting better." You add, so he doesn't feel bad because you know he does. His face tells you as much.

"It's a short drive, if that helps." He rushes. "And I asked Taehyung and he said you'd be okay, but if you aren't then I can just walk you home—"

"No." You shake your head firmly. There's a funny fizzing in your stomach that's been there ever since that day on the boardwalk, and it's only growing stronger and stronger now you're inches away from Jungkook and his warm eyes and gentle smile. You don't want it to end just yet. It's enough to outweigh the wriggling fear that's always inside you just a little. "Where are we going?"

Jungkook's face lights up and your heart flips when you realise it's because of you.

"I told you I was gonna make you see what I see, didn't I?"

"Oh that was today?" You tease. "Must have missed it it in the calendar."

"Stop asking questions! Just get in. Please?"

"Fine." You walk around to the passenger door, sliding in beside him and throwing your bag into the back seat. "But I need to be home by midnight or Taehyung will worry."

"No problemo." Jungkook salutes as he switches on the engine and the truck roars to life. You clasp your hands tightly in your lap and breathe through your nose. You're okay. You're safe."Home by midnight. It's a promise."

You gaze out of the window to stop your thoughts from running wild. Jungkook turns left, away from town and the beach and everything familiar. You watch it get smaller and smaller in the mirrors, strangely relieved. Strangely excited.

"Now will you tell me where we're going?" You ask.

"Nope." Jungkook chuckles when you pout. "Just sit back. Relax. Take in the view. Listen to the music."

He leans across the dash, making a point to keep his eyes on the road as he fiddles with the stereo. A familiar string of guitar chords fill the truck. You recognise them, even if vaguely. Probably from Taehyung's vast collection of records.

"The Beatles right?" You ask, resting your chin on your knee as you dare to take a peek at him, blushing when you find him already staring at you.

"Pfft, yeah. Of course it's The Beatles! Only their greatest soundtrack, like, ever."

You shrug. "I've never listened to them before, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh come on? You haven't seen A Hard Day's Night?" His eyes widen when you shake your head. "Super Fly? Pulp Fiction? Purple Rain?"

You stifle a giggle at the look of pure shock he's sending you. "Nope. Should I have?"

"Absolutely!" He splutters. Passion shines in his eyes. "You're missing out on some of the greatest cinematography known to man!"

"I guess you have a lot to fill me in on, then."

"I sure do." His eyes soften. "Open the glove box."

You open it. Inside you find an assortment of cassette tapes, old and new. You send him a curious look.

"Close your eyes and choose one." He nods. "Go on."

You do as he says and shut your lids tightly, feeling around until your fingers curl around a tape you're strangely drawn to. When you open your eyes you find a worn box in your palm, yellow at the edges, and you're momentarily disappointed until Jungkook hums in approval beside you.

"Good choice! Dirty Dancing. A classic." He takes it from you and slides the tape into the stereo. It crackles a little before the music starts. "Trust me, you'll love it."

The stereo tracklist flashes amber. 01: Do You Love Me?

"You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance," Jungkook sings along in a deep voice, eyebrows bouncing as you loll your head to the side to send him an eye roll. "And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down!"

The song starts, all vibrant guitar and drums. It has a funky 60's groove, like it belongs in a swing dancing club instead of on the highway at sunset. It's a happy song and you think it suits Jungkook just right.

Speaking of Jungkook, he starts to bob his head in time with the beat, fingertips tapping in rhythm against the steering wheel. He looks adorably dorky, losing himself to the song, like he's forgotten you're even sat beside him.

"You look like an idiot." You deadpan, though you can't cover the laugh that escapes you as he sings along louder.

"No, I look like I'm having fun!" Jungkook rolls down the window and turns up the music so loud he has to shout for you to hear him. "Don't you ever do this? Just give in to the music for a while? Let your body do what it wants?"

"Uh, no. I prefer to just listen." You shout back. "Besides, your body should be focused on driving this car right now--"

"Oh come on! Just try it."

"Try it?" You blink, stomach suddenly knotting."Like now? In front of you?"

"Well duh. Look. Copy me."

He starts to shake his shoulders from side to side, fingers clicking as he nods for you to do the same.

"I...okay." You start to copy, but you catch yourself in the rear view mirror and you just look stiff compared to how effortlessly Jungkook moves to the rhythm.

"See you're doing it!" Jungkook grins, throwing his head back. "Feels good huh?"

"Kinda..." You have to admit there is something liberating about just letting go. "Like this?"

Your knees volunteer themselves to the beat, and then your arms, and before you know it you've got your eyes closed, hair whipping around your face as you speed down the interstate

"That's it. Feel the music!"

Before you know it, the song ends and you realise all at once that you're laughing. Loud and free, enough to make your belly hurt. Jungkook is too, the sound better than any song you've ever heard, and neither of you can seem to stop.

"Oh my god." You pant, covering your face with your fingers, embarrassed. "Now we both look like idiots."

"Don't hide from me." Jungkook bites his lip. You're suddenly aware of how close he is. His arms grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face, but he doesn't drop the one closest to him. Instead he links your fingers and uses your shared grip to change the gear as he turns down a winding road.

"I'm shy." You say, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

"Why? You're beautiful." Jungkook puts the car into park. You realise all at once that you've been driving for ages and you didn't even panic once. "Besides, we've arrived. And you're not gonna wanna miss seeing this."

The destination Jungkook seems so excited about turns out to be a concrete parking lot.

"Where are we, Jungkook?" You ask, looking around but finding nothing but tyre tracks and dirt.

Jungkook has already hopped out of the drivers side, sliding over the hood of the car to tug open your door with a quirk of his brow.

He holds out his palm, upturned and calloused. "Do you trust me?"

You bite your lip, heart pounding. Do you trust him?

Your body speaks for you and you slide your hand into his. His thumb traces your knuckles reassuringly.

"Yes." You breathe. "I trust you."

"Good."

You yelp when an arm wraps around your waist and hoists you out of the car, tightly interlocked fingers blocking your vision like a makeshift blindfold. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to."

"Okay." You giggle, feet stumbling as you try to find your balance with the help of a sturdy hand beneath your elbow.

Jungkook hums gently beneath his breath as he guides you up a path that turns from concrete to loose rock to dampened grass beneath the soles of your beat up sneakers. There's a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to be nervous; who knows where he could be taking you right now.

But as you breathe in the musty notes of his cologne and feel your heart flutter in your chest when he comes to a stop and rests his chin on your shoulder, just close enough to feel his laugh ghost across your neck, you don't care where in the world you are right now as long as it's beside him.

"Now, open."

The sun is startlingly bright when you open your eyes for the first time and see the vibrant meadow that stretches as far as you can see.

Wait — that's not the sun. It's sunflowers. Clusters of them, cheerfully waving with the breeze from where you stand on the path that continues for a few steps before it disappears among their stems.

The sunflowers are a burst of golden colour against the fading green of the meadow, and the horizon beyond that which boasts the silhouette of beach rock against the soft blue of the ocean at sunset. There's tracks here and there where the uncut grass is trampled, like some children had played hide and seek.

You reach out a hand and brush your fingertips over the velvety petals; breathe in the botanical scent of the fresh sunny blooms that dances through the meadow. It's breathtaking, you think. There's no coordination, just freedom choreographed by the wind as the tall stems sway back and forth in their gentle dance.

Before you know it you've taken off into a run, grinning with childlike glee when the tall grass tickles your nose and the sun whispers against your neck.

"Jungkook, this place is—"

"Beautiful right?" You nod breathlessly, blushing deeply when you come to a stop and find him staring right at you. He squeezes your hand and that's when you notice your fingers are still interlinked. "I come here a lot. When I need to think."

"How did you find this place?"

"Taehyung and I stumbled upon it a few summers ago by accident." He says. "Nobody knows about it. It's our secret."

"It's so beautiful." You whisper. "The whole world needs to see this."

Jungkook kicks at a stone with the toe of his boot. "I kinda like it being a secret. This place...is special to me."

"Then why...." The words get caught in your throat. You swallow and try again. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I wanted to show you the things I find most beautiful. Remember?"

"The sunflowers?"

"Well yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck. Swallows thickly, like he's preparing himself. "But I was thinking of something a little different..."

You close your eyes, a smile appearing on your lips as you let the crisp breeze caress your face. "Then what?"

There's a sharp click of a shutter, and when your lashes flutter open in surprise, Jungkook is shaking a Polaroid picture back and forth, his eyes glinting with something mischievous.

"Hey! Give me that—" You reach for the Polaroid, stomach churning with a sudden shyness that makes you hug your arms.

"Just — don't do that okay?" He holds it out of reach, pleading with his eyes. "Please."

"Do what?"

"Give up on what makes you happy just because you're scared." His palm cups your cheek. "You said it yourself. Being in front of the camera is where you belong. Don't you see that?"

"I'm not scared." You feel the heat rise in your cheeks when Jungkook sends you a knowing look. "Okay maybe I am scared. And so what if I am? You've already given me the face your fears spiel and I told you. I'm perfectly happy avoiding every camera known to man for the rest of my life if it means I never have to face them."

"But you've already faced one of your fears today. You got in my car, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Well, two technically, 'cause you're here with me now and I know how nervous you used to get around me--"

"Did not!"

"Do too! Every time we talk outside of work you get all shy and--"

"Shut up."

"See! You're doing it right now!"

You don't know what compels you to do it. Maybe it's the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks or the way your heart quickens when Jungkook closes the gap between you, but before you can stop yourself you're reaching up and grasping his face with both hands.

"Oh just shut up and kiss me, doofus."

The smug smirk on Jungkook's face is replaced with wide eyed surprise, his lips falling still for a moment when yours crash against his. But then his steady hands find your waist and he supports you on your tip toes so he can pull you ever closer, melting into the plush press of your lips.

When you pull back, you're smiling. You can't help it. You've been dreaming of this moment since, like, middle school. And goddamn, he even tastes how you imagined. Like black coffee and toothpaste.

"See." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Happiness suits you."

"Whatever, Jeon." You smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, but it's thanks to you."

Jungkook flashes you the biggest bunny grin you've ever seen, eyes sparkling at your words.

"Wait...stay like that." He reaches for his camcorder in his backpack and points the lens at you. The smile falls from your lips. You place a hand on his arm, grip tighter than you intended.

"Jungkook stop."

"What's wrong? Just keep smiling like that, the shot was perfect—"

"I don't know what to do." You shrug, the lens boring into you like a judgy aunt at Thanksgiving dinner. "The camera makes me nervous."

"Just pretend I'm not here."

You sniff. "I don't want you to not be here..."

"Listen," Jungkook cups your face, thumbs tracing your cheeks fondly. "The reason I brought you here? It's because this place reminds me of you. Beautiful."

"Jungkook--"

"Just like you said, the world needs to see this place. Just like they need to see you."

"I..." Your heart is on the verge of exploding, you would swear it. "Okay." The word rolls off your tongue before you can stop it because somehow you trust him. And deep down, there's still that fizz of excitement mixing in with all the nervousness. The Jungkook Effect. You don't want to lose it to the darkness like everything else.

"I'll try. Just-- don't laugh at me okay?"

"You have my word, sarge." He salutes with a thoughtful grin. "Hold on a sec. I know exactly what you need to get you going."

Jungkook jumps to his feet and you watch with your chin tucked between your knees as he jogs down the rocky path and opens all four of the truck doors, even the trunk, before his head disappears into the vehicle and the same pumping bass from earlier starts blasting into the quiet serene of the sunflower field.

"There," He grins as he returns, out of breath, and sits back down beside you cross legged, holding his camcorder to his eye. "Now do what you were doing before again, but over there. Just pretend you're on stage at the Crestmont, okay?"

You feel the music wash over you and the urge to move hits you like a wave. Jungkook nods encouragingly and there's something in his eyes that flips a switch inside you. And for the first time in a long time, all the passion and spirit and feeling inside you fizzes up to the top and you can't contain it any longer.

"That's it!" Jungkook calls, shutter clicking uncontrollably. "I knew you could do it!"

An oak tree provides sun-flecked shade, a cool sanctuary from the sun that sets on the horizon and splashes the sky's canvas magenta.

Jungkook laid out a checkered blanket from the trunk of his truck which you both lay upon, shoulders pressed together as close as humanly possible, surrounded by your devoured picnic consisting of his mom's fruit punch and bags of snacks he took from the concession stand at the Crestmont when nobody was looking.

"Holy shit, Y/N." He says through a mouthful of popcorn, jabbing his finger at his favourite shot of you in front of the sunflowers. "This is what I've been saying! You're a natural in front of the camera."

"No, you're amazing, Jungkook." You feel for his hand. It's funny how natural it feels already when his pinky links with yours. "Behind the camera."

"You think?" He chews his lip, eyes searching yours for approval.

"I know. You should do something with these. People need to see them."

"I'm thinking of becoming a filmographer, actually"

"Like at the pier?" You think of the tacky photo booth that overlooks the sea in town, fit with all the silly cardboard cut outs that tourists come and take a photo with for a dollar.

"No, I mean a real filmographer." He shrugs, and you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his cheeks. "Y'know. Movies and stuff."

You nod. It makes sense for Jungkook to spend his life with a camera glued to his right hand. You can't imagine Jungkook anywhere else, and you have to ignore the sinking feeling that comes with the realisation that he would eventually leave Ocean City -- and you -- behind for the big screen.

"Well you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.

"Always."

He must see the sadness brimming inside you, his body shuffling closer so your knees brush. It's reassuring somewhat.

"Actually...there's something I should tell you."

He shifts under your gaze. The nerves rush back. "What is it?"

"I guess I finished writing my first screenplay..."

"That's like a movie script, right?" You ask eagerly, and he nods. "That's great, Kook!"

"Yeah, it's great it's just --" He pauses, and clutches your hand tighter like he's scared what he says next will make you let go forever. "It's about you."

You pale. "M-me?"

"I mean, it's about you and...and Taehyung! And your mom." Jungkook rushes. "I was inspired by your story at the boardwalk and it just happened! I'm sorry, I know you probably hate me now and think I'm crazy but--"

"Burn it." You deadpan.

Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"

"I said burn it." You pull his hand into your lap and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't hate you, Kook. I just think you were right earlier when you said I need to face my fears. And the only way I can do that is by forgetting my past. The last thing I need is a whole freaking movie about it."

He joins in with your strained chuckles. "Sure you aren't mad?"

"Not mad." You assure with a smile.

"Then I'll burn it."

You avoid his gaze shyly. "I'm kinda honoured you wrote about me, though." You admit.

"I guess...I guess I could call you my muse." Jungkook blurts hurriedly. His nose is a deep shade of pink and it makes you want to tease him forever.

"Yeah." You nod to yourself with a smile. "I like that. Your muse."

And then his lips are on yours again, like he can't quite help himself, and you start to forget where yours begin and his end.

This time it's not delicate and sweet. It's slow and languid, hot and heavy. The sunflowers break your fall, Jungkook's lips never leaving yours as he climbs on top of you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other planted beside your head so that his chest hovers above yours. You're almost certain he can feel how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, but you don't care, too lost in the bliss of finally feeling Jungkook's plush lips against your own.

"Come to New York with me." He says breathlessly between kisses, and your heart stops.

"What?" You can hardly drag your lips away from his but you have to be sure you heard him right. New York?

"I mean, in the future. I'm gonna go to New York. Get a job at a film production company or something, I don't know--" He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Come with me."

"I...I can't."

"Why?" He frowns. "Is it me?"

"No! God no."

"Then why? You said it was your dream right?" You nod. "So what's stopping you?"

"I..I have to take care of Taehyung, and my job at the Crestmont and--"

"Okay. Lets pretend none of that exists. It's just you and me." His breath ghosts against your forehead. "Y/N, will you come to New York with me?"

"Yes." It comes out breathless, but you mean it. With every atom and nerve and fiber in your body. "Lets go to New York."

Where things change.

3 years later.

A postcard sits on the Welcome Home! Doormat you and Jungkook bought before you left for New York. You recognise the picture perfect image of Ocean City on the front, and Taehyung's messy scrawl on the back that tells you he's doing fine at his new management job at the Crestmont and he will be sending a housewarming gift imminently.

— Stay smiling, Y/N. Miss you already! Taehyung. :)

With a small smile you tack it onto the bare fridge. It brightens up the empty kitchen somewhat, a little piece of home and a reminder that you don't need to worry about leaving your brother behind to fend for himself so much any more. Since he pulled his life together and got a job at the theatre, it's like he came alive again. Found his purpose.

Speaking of purposes, you suppose that's how you found yourself here. In your very own apartment in a nice complex on the east side. The east side of New York City.

There's a pair of satin curtains hung over the balcony doors, probably left behind by the old tenant as it's the only form of furniture in the whole apartment. They rustle in the morning breeze and you tiptoe across the room barefoot to rip them open, letting your eyes flutter shut when the early morning sun filters through the glass and cascades over your face like a warm embrace.

You press a hand to the glass, studying your reflection; the messy lump of hair atop your head, the soft shadow of your lashes atop your cheeks. And beyond it, New York. Your new normal in all it's familiar glory from your dreams, yet still so deliciously foreign it makes your heart leap whenever a cab horn rings out in the distance or you breathe in the smell of fresh bagels from the shop down the street.

Home. You could finally call it that now. But New York is just a city and this apartment is just a house. The real reason you get to call this place home is because of who you came here with.

Jungkook.

You've been dating for two and a half years by now. He let you borrow one of his old much-too-big t-shirts to sleep in last night. There's a hole in the shoulder and the hem brushes your knees but it's warm and smells like his cologne and your heart expands when you close your eyes and remember this is just the beginning. You have so much to do, so many things to see here in New York. So many things to learn. And there's nobody you would want to explore life with more than Jungkook.

His camera equipment lays in a cardboard box by your feet, and something compels you to take out the old-school camcorder he loves. The leather strap tightens perfectly around your hand and the red RECORD button flashes as you open the doors wide and lift the lens to take in the view. Something tells you you're gonna want to remember this moment forever.

It's not long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked cheekily into your shoulder. "There you are." Jungkook husks, stilly groggy with sleep as his lips ghost across your cheek.

Turning around in his grasp, you find him still shirtless, sweatpants slung low around his hips. He's been working out recently, and you can't deny you don't love how firm his shoulders feel when you brace yourself on them to stand on your tip toes and leave a peck to his lips.

"Morning sleepyhead," you say, running your fingers through the strands of his silky bed hair. It's longer these days, whispering across the nape of his neck and falling across his round eyes sweetly. They flutter closed when you massage his scalp just how he likes it. "I was wondering when you'd finally get out of bed."

"Missed you." His lips turn up when he sees the camera pointed at his face. "Whaddya doing with that?"

"Making memories." You say simply, zooming in on him as he rubs his sleepy eyes. "So we never forget this."

A cheeky smirk appears on his lips as he wraps you in his arms, a surprised giggle leaving you when he spins you around and grabs the camera so he can point it at the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder now as his bare arm snugly wraps around your waist.

"Hey stop! I just woke up, I look bad!"

"Hello us of the future," Jungkook chuckles, pulling your fingers away from your face when you bury your face in his chest to hide from the lens. "It's our first day in New York and Y/N is being all camera shy--okay, okay fine, lets show them the view instead!"

Jungkook finally flips the lens around so it focuses on the distant silhouettes of tall skyscrapers skimming the blue skyline, before he turns it back onto you guys once more with a mischievous look this time.

"But we have to go now because we have far more interesting business to attend to..." He lowers the camera as his lips start to trail up your collar bone and he smiles when your eyes flutter shut and you gasp at the feeling, but it's quickly replaced by a pout when you wriggle out of his embrace with a stern look.

"Not now. Later."

"Mmf? Why?" He whines, making grabby hands towards you. "You're so warm, jus' wanna cuddle for a bit."

"No time!" You call over your shoulder as you grab him by the hand and drag his heavy feet behind you. "We've got an apartment to decorate."

Before you know it you've enlisted Jungkook's help in laying tarps across the living room floor, two pots of bright white paint plonked in the center. It's not like you could afford a decorator after all. You are two broke twenty-something's trying to make it big in New York, and all that cliche stuff. So you would just have to do it yourselves.

Jungkook's over in the corner, miming along to the guitar solo from some rock song playing from the radio balanced on the windowsill, the paint roller his instrument as he dances around the room with giddy impulse. There's paint all over his butt where he accidentally leaned against one of the wet walls and he's got his hair tied back into a bun at the crown of his head and you watch him out of the corner of your eye while an affectionate smile creeps onto your face no matter how hard you try to curb it.

That's when you notice the camera in his other hand. He zooms in on the stepladder in the corner, the paint spillage in the hall, the heart with Y/N + JUNGKOOK FOREVER written inside it on the back wall. Documenting everything as usual.

He was always filming you, too. Whether you were making coffee in the morning or drying your hair. He'd even slow down beside you on the sidewalk to get the perfect shot.

You find it cute, even though you pretend to hate it. It makes your heart flutter every time you catch him rewinding the footage with a contented smile on his face, like he just captured the whole world with his lens.

It's no surprise when you finish putting the final coat on the wall and step back to admire your handy work that you find him wandering around the apartment with his hand curved around the lens of one of his bigger cameras like it's natural to him. You always joke that thing is like an extra limb, but he looks so calm as he looks through his lens at the room that is now drunk on the afternoon sun pouring through the window, the golden rays like honey on his skin, that it's easy to see that the camera really is a part of him. Passion lies in the soft lines of concentration on his face, in the plump lip tugged between teeth as he fiddles with the settings.

Jungkook sees beauty where others don't, where others can't. It might as well pump through his veins. And it's one of the reasons you love him so much.

You shake your head when you see how a small smile finds his lips when he leans a shoulder against the door frame and lets the camera land on the thing he swears is most beautiful.

"Hey." You warn, shooting a side wards glare at the camera lens you spot Jungkook not so discreetly pointing in your direction. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling back into a sly bunny smile when you bend down to reach a spot you missed at the bottom of the wall. "I'm not doing anything."

Your upper lip twitches. "Are you zooming in on my ass?"

"What? No!" Jungkook scrunches his nose with wide eyes, a habit you knew meant he was guilty, a pout forming on your lips as he snaps the viewfinder closed and shoves the offending piece of his equipment behind his back.

You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He blows a strand of hair out of his face innocently but there's a playful glint in his eyes and you can hardly keep a serious face as you plant your hands on your hips in what you hope is a menacing manner.

"Then lemme see it." You challenge with a nod to the camera behind him.

He feigns indifference, cocking his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. "See what?"

"That's it!" You shake your head, charging towards and him making grabby motions towards the camera. Jungkook looks down at you fondly as he holds it above your head, out of reach, and it only makes you you pout harder. "Hey! Give it!

"Never!" You jump pitifully, fingers grasping around nothing. A melodic chuckle spills from Jungkook's lips when you cross your arms over your chest in defeat and blink up at him crossly. "You have to say the magic word first."

You scoff at the teasing look on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows and waves the camera just above your head, before an idea strikes you and within seconds you're wielding a paintbrush, Jungkook's eyes widening when you point the paint coated bristles at his face.

"Give it up." You hold out your palm with a smug look. "Or the walls are not the only thing getting a fresh coat."

"You wouldn't." He smirks, despite being backed into a corner now.

"Oh yeah?" Without further ado you swipe the brush down the bridge of his nose, swallowing a giggle at the white smudge it leaves behind and his shocked expression beneath it. "You underestimate me, Jeon."

Jungkook pushes his tongue into his cheek, eyes dancing up and down your body before they lock with yours daringly. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Or what?" You taunt playfully, a laugh escaping you, but you quickly bite down on your lip when you see the glint in Jungkook's eyes as he submerges both his hands into the nearby bucket of paint.

You don't run when he steps closer. Instead your breathing quickens, heart doing a funny somersault when he brushes your hair to the side and clamps both of his wet hands on the sides of your jaw to bring your face up to his.

He tastes like coffee and desire when your lips crash together in a delicious tangle of teeth and tongue, all the thoughts racing through your mind dripping away like honey until all that's left is the thump of your heart against your chest and Jungkook's warmth as he backs you up against the wall.

When he pulls away he rubs his paint covered nose against yours, cocking his head and smiling sweetly when he leans back and admires his handy work.

"You have paint on your face." He looks down at his white hands innocently with a shrug. "Whoops?"

His hands trail down to your hips. You reach to your side and grab a fistful of paint, wiping it down the centre of his face and giggling when he groans and scrunches his eyes closed . "So do you."

"Okay, that's it. This means war!" Jungkook growls, strong arms wrapping around your waist, and before you know it you're stumbling over to the mattress in the corner, Jungkook's body hovering over yours.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" Desire-filled eyes trace your face, travelling down the expanse of your neck before zeroing in on your collar bones. You gasp when Jungkook's lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin, every inch of you set alight when his burning fingers slide beneath the hem of your tshirt and find your thighs. "Always being such a bad girl, huh?"

"So? What're you gonna do about it? Punish me?" You say teasingly, and he stiffens, lips leaving a mark behind on your neck with a pop. Jungkook's narrowed eyes meet yours and you feel your heart speed up with anticipation.

His lips twitch, like they're dying to turn up. "Brat."

With that, you're being flipped over onto your knees with a yelp. Jungkook's hands work quickly and before you know it your tshirt is over your head and the sudden breeze from the open balcony doors against your hardened nipples makes you gasp.

"You love it." You laugh breathily.

"Too much," Jungkook confirms, before his large palm presses you down into the bed firmly between the shoulder blades so that your ass is thrust up in the air. You wiggle is teasingly, though the breath catches in your throat when the first spank lands on your bare skin. Then a second, the sound ringing out through the empty room like an echo and making a damp spot appear on your panties.

"Hey!" You chastise when you remember the paint on his hands that just left two glaring handprints right across your ass.

Jungkook just smirks. "What? Now everyone knows it's mine."

A third slap and you have to bite the blanket to stop from groaning, then a fourth, and a fifth and by then your eyes are watering but in the best way. Calloused hands smooth over the burning area, soothing it.

"Good girl," A raspy voice whispers next to your ear. "Such a good girl for me, taking your punishment. I think you deserve your reward now, hm?"

"Please." You moan as he reaches around to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipples in a way that has you writhing beneath him.

"Don't say I didn't warn you though," Jungkook chuckles as he rips your panties down your legs, gasping at the sight of your dripping slit like it's the first time. He runs a finger down your folds, biting back a groan when it makes your legs fall open a little further, desperate for his touch. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Jungkook, what do you-- oh!." Before you can finish, Jungkook is pushing your face back into the comforter, spreading your cheeks with his palms and licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your throbbing core. His tongue finds your clit easily, toying it with the tip playfully until you're gasping for air.

"Mmf, tastes so good." He murmurs against your folds, the vibrations of his chuckle making you moan so hard your legs start to shake. His tongue finds your hole, swirling around teasingly before it slips inside and you can't handle it anymore.

"Jungkook!" You gasp, reaching behind to grab his hair. "I..I can't-"

"You can." He says, almost a command, mouth leaving your pussy only so he can slide over onto his back and pull you back down onto his face by the hips.

"Oh g-god!" Your hand reaches for the headboard, landing on the wall to steady yourself when you remember you still haven't bought a bed frame yet. Your legs are starting to ache from holding yourself up but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping at your swollen folds as you grind in lazy circles on his face.

"C-close, Kook." You manage to splutter, head thrown back with pleasure when he slides two of his fingers inside you and starts to pump in time with his tongue, the sensation of being filled enough to send you over the edge into a shuddering climax that is unlike anything you've felt before, the only thought on your mind the way your hole clenches around your boyfriend's fingers.

It takes a few moments for your legs to stop shaking, your hearing slowly coming back into focus as you hear both of your heavy breaths intermingled. You look between your legs to find Jungkook staring up at you with a grin, eyes filled with wonder. His chin gleams with your juices, the front of his t-shirt damp as you realise with a gasp what just happened.

"Did I--?"

"Yup."

"Holy fuck." You swing your leg over his shoulder so you're beside him, Jungkook sitting up to look at you, still mesmerised. "I...I'm sorry, that was--"

"The hottest thing you've ever done." Jungkook finishes, grinning at you like he just won the lottery.

You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"

You can't help but laugh at his eager puppy dog eyes, hands practically twitching at his sides to touch you. A quick glance at his crotch confirms the biggest tent in his pants you've ever seen, and you crook a finger towards him with a sultry smile and a nod.

"Let's see if you can make me do that again."

"O-Okay!" Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head eagerly, and then he's on top of you, burning skin meeting burning skin. Your palm runs down his chest, Jungkook's eyes falling shut when it reaches the hem of his sweatpants. You cant help but gasp when your fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, core already throbbing again to be filled. He shivers when your finger circles his tip, admiring the wet patch on his boxers.

"Eager?" You smirk.

"You squirted on my face, Y/N, of course I'm goddamn eager."

"Get these off then." You tug at his pants and he kicks them off without a second telling.

"Your wish is my command."

When he returns to hovering over you, both completely bare now, he pauses. His eyes meet yours, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and grips your jaw protectively.

"I love you, y'know."

You close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his but barely able to keep yourself from grinning with the elation swirling in your chest. "I love you too, doofus. Now hurry up or I'm gonna have to fuck myself."

"That sounds kinda awesome--"

"Kook!"

"Okay, okay, on it!"

Palms spread your legs, and you both gasp when Jungkook runs the blunt head of his leaking cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices before he lines it up with your entrance.

"Ready?" He checks, thumb tracing circles into your inner thigh.

"As I'll ever be."

And with that, he pushes inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a sigh of relief at finally feeling your walls clenching around his throbbing length. The stretch of his girth stings, but it makes you feel so deliciously full, so perfectly whole to be connected to Jungkook like this that all you can get out is another soft I love you that earns a blissful smile from your boyfriend as he starts to move.

Each stroke makes you lose your breath, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. It's when Jungkook takes your nipple into his mouth that you feel a second orgasm start to build, one hand gripping the sheets as the other drags scratch marks down his muscular back in blissful agony.

It's not long before Jungkook spills inside you with a deep growl, your own high hitting you as you feel him coat your walls. He collapses onto your chest, breaths deep and exhausted, and wraps you in his arms before you can even catch your breath.

Jungkook pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and places a kiss to the top of your head. He's so warm you feel yourself start to drift off into a blissful sleep, the smile on your lips never faltering.

"I love you too." Is the last thing you hear him say before sleep takes you under, and you're safe wrapped up in each other's arms.

When you open your eyes, the room is warm with sunset's rose tinted blush, and Jungkook's body is no longer beside you. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sit up on your elbow and find him on the ground in front of the freshly painted wall, intricate petals and stems flowing from the end of the paintbrush he delicately waves across the surface to paint the prettiest sunflower you've ever seen.

"I'm home!" You hear your boyfriend yell out as he shuffles into the apartment, quickly followed by a yelp. "Hey, Gureum, stop trying to lick my face!"

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your features when a ball of white fluff comes bounding into the living room, the puppy that excitedly jumps into your arms tracking a trail of muddy paw prints over the script in your hands.

"Hey Gureum," You coo, scratching him behind the ears where you know his sweet spot is. "You're such a good boy, huh?"

"Don't praise him! He totally ran away from me in Central Park and I had to chase him all the way home!" You can practically hear Jungkook's eye roll, shaking your head fondly at the mock annoyance in his voice. It was Jungkook who begged you to adopt a puppy for months in the first place, and they've been more or less inseparable ever since — the little guy hardly ever leaves his side. It's safe to say Jungkook is definitely Gureum's favourite.

The smell of coffee and fresh bagels wafts through the apartment, a warm sensation settling in your stomach as your boyfriend rounds the corner and waves a brown paper bag.

"Still got us enough coffee to stay up all night learning lines though." Jungkook grins, dumping the contents onto the coffee table and raising his eyebrows when your hands dart straight for the chocolate cookies. "Speaking of learning lines, how is it going, pretty?"

He nods towards the script in your hand. It's worn at the edges and ferociously dog eared from all the nights you have stayed up until sunrise reciting the words littered across the pages over and over, until it's like your lips are moving by muscle memory and the words are a part of you.

After what felt like hundreds of failed auditions, you had started to lose hope. With every letter that landed on the porch with another SORRY or MAYBE NEXT TIME, you felt all the confidence in the dream you worked so hard to uncover start to dwindle.

But Jungkook was always there, by your side no matter what. Encouraging you when you forgot your lines or holding you when you didn't get the callback. Reminding you to eat whenever you were too absorbed in your work to cook or cheering you on from the crowd at your weekly improv performances.

It was Jungkook who cried with you when the director of the small theatre downtown called and gave you the lead part in his upcoming stage production. Your big break. And you were determined to make sure everything ran smoothly at opening night tomorrow, which is how you find yourself snuggled up on the couch rewinding your VHS copy of Dirty Dancing over and over again until you have every word memorised by heart.

"Pretty good." You say as you pop a salted peanut into your mouth while Jungkook slips out of his tweed jacket. He's been trying to dress more New-York-ish these days, or so he says. More dress pants and less sweats. "Final rehearsals start at five."

"Aren't you nervous?" Jungkook squishes into the space beside you, Gureum cuddling up between your bodies.

Tomorrow night's show is sold out, along with every night after that for the next week. You heard there were going to be at least 700 people there each night.

"Terribly." You admit, stomach churning at the thought of 700 pairs of eyes staring right at you. You try to focus on the fizzing excitement that lingers there too, growing stronger and stronger. "But I think I'm more excited".

"I'm excited to see you up there doing what you love." Jungkook smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "My star."

"Well don't get too excited because I still keep messing up this one goddamn scene," You flip the script to a page covered in bright highlighter scribbles and run your fingers through your hair exasperatedly. "I'm totally gonna mess it up and then I'll never get another job and—"

"Shhh," Jungkook takes the script from your hands and runs his eyes over it quickly. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be amazing — hold up..." He raises an eyebrow. "Is this...the kiss scene?"

You feel your cheeks redden, voice small. "Yes."

"Then you're in luck because who better to help you practice than the best kisser in all of New York?"

You snort. "Wow, I sure could use some of your expertise Good-Sir-Makes-Out-A-Lot."

"Then you're in the right place..." He runs his finger over the script, jabbing at one line in particular.

[Johnny and Baby kiss.]

"Let's start here, hm? For practice, obviously."

"For practice." Your eyes roll but your heart still beats a little faster as he closes the space between you, hand pressing into the wall so his sturdy body hovers over yours, hands instinctively pulling him closer by the collar.

"Come give me a kiss, m'lady..." Jungkook murmurs, but before he can tilt your chin up towards his lips there's a sudden series of frantic knocks at the front door.

"What the heck?"

You both jump out of your skin, Jungkook's eyes narrowing as he glances over his shoulder at the shadowy figure outside, fist pounding the glass fervently, like they're trying to break it down.

"Okay, damn, I'm coming!" He yells with a roll of his eyes. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders as he hops up from the couch with a sigh. "Probably just some dumb marketer again or something — dude, chill! I said I'm coming! — be right back."

The lock slides open and you hear Jungkook gasp. Your stomach drops. "Who is it?"

"Uh, Y/N..." You hear the door click shut and the sound of squeaky shoes shuffling inside. The anxiety in Jungkook's voice makes your heart skip. "You might wanna come see this."

"Huh?" Your legs feel shaky as you follow him out into the hall, chest seizing when you lay eyes on the dripping wet hair and chattering teeth of the shivering man stood before you, eyes dark and grave like they used to be.

"Taehyung?" You splutter, ripping the blanket from around your shoulders and swaddling him in it as quickly as you can, Jungkook already bounding into the other room to get dry clothes and towels after shooting you a terrified glance.

Taehyung grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a tight embrace. His cheeks are wet against your shoulder, but you can't tell if it's because he's been crying or because he's been out in the freezing cold rain — hold on, did he walk here?

"Y/N," He murmurs frantically, eyes darting back and forth but never quite focusing on anything. You knew this look. This is how he looked that day you found out about the accident. Murky, far far away. Devastatingly sad. Something wasn't right.

"What is it?" You ask, pulling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch before his shaking knees buckle beneath him. "What are you doing here, Tae?"

"It's...it's the Crestmont." He whispers.

"What about the Crestmont?" Jungkook appears behind Taehyung, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it's like your brother doesn't even feel it.

"They're tearing it down." He mumbles. "They're tearing down the Crestmont. Forever."

"Okay, now let's start from the beginning."

Jungkook's calm voice lilts from beside Taehyung who, after a warm shower and two cups of cocoa, has stopped shivering and seems to be ready to talk.

A hand reaches across the coffee table to tug on your wrist mid-lift to your mouth, a reminder from Jungkook to stop biting your nails. An old nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in Ocean City but apparently more than just Taehyung showed up here unannounced tonight.

"I...I got a call this morning." Taehyung begins, pausing to take a sip from the mug he cradles in his lap. His hands are shaking so he places it on the coffee table for safe keeping, right beside your discarded script. "It was from a construction company."

"And?" You prod, somewhat impatiently, making Taehyung jump.

"And apparently the owner of the theatre is behind on rent and...and..." He swallows hard. "And they're buying the rights to tear it down and build an apartment complex in its place."

"What?" Both you and Jungkook exclaim at the same time.

Jungkook's fists clench. "I always knew that old man was shady."

Taehyung fumbles in the pocket of the coat he arrived with, retrieving a brochure which he thrusts towards you.

The image on the front is of a metal skyscraper, far too shiny and new to belong in a seaside town like Ocean City. Fusion Apartments — modern living.

Jungkook rakes a hand through his hair, eyes sorrowful as you pass it over to him. "This sucks. Big time." He murmurs. "The Crestmont is the heart of Ocean City. How can they just bulldoze it like it means nothing?"

"That's why..." Taehyung swallows. "That's why I came here. I thought maybe you guys could help me, and we could do something before they—"

"We?" You furrow your brows. "You want us to help stop them from tearing down the Crestmont?"

"I mean yeah, I guess? I figured you guys would understand how important it is—"

You bite your lip. Taehyung flinches when you place a hand on his knee. "Tae. It seems like they've already got it figured out I mean...what can we do about it? The Crestmont has had a long run and maybe it's time for something new in Ocean City..."

"Y/N?" Jungkook warns, but there's a betrayal in his voice. How could you say that? It pains you, but you continue anyway. "What are you saying?"

"I just...I think it's time to let the Crestmont go."

Taehyung stands up so abruptly his mug smashes onto the marble tile.

"How could you?" He roars, but his bottom lip trembles. "The Crestmont is mom's place! It's all we have left of her in that fucking town and you want to just let them burn it to the ground?"

You tut, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of china with a sharp glance at your brother. "For goodness sake, Taehyung. Mom isn't there anymore. She never was. She was always running off with some roadies and leaving us behind because she thought she was something special."

Taehyung scoffs. "What? Just like you?" He grabs the cocoa sodden script, crumpling it up in his shaking fist. "You are exactly the same as her. Running off to New York and leaving me behind to get your big break."

Jungkook steps forward warily. "Taehyung, you don't mean that—"

"Yes I do! If Y/N had just gotten in the car that day she wouldn't have died. It was all her fault. And now she's just gonna let them take what we have left of her."

"What?" Jungkook blinks.

Your stomach sinks. Is that really what Taehyung thinks? You wouldn't blame him. Deep down, his words strike a nerve. Because you know they're true.

Taehyung's eyes are hazy, unfocused. You reach for him dizzily, but he backs away into the hall.

"I shouldn't have come here." Taehyung whispers. He looks between you and Jungkook one last time before he's grabbing his coat and running down the steps to the first floor.

"Taehyung, wait!" You hear Jungkook's footsteps follow him out into the stairwell, but you're trapped on the ground, heaving for air.

Your hands shake as you pull yourself up to the window pane and watch Taehyung disappear into the gloom of the city, the sorrowful raindrops that lash against the glass mirroring the ones on your cheeks.

YOU: Taehyung??? YOU: [CALL IGNORED] YOU: please Tae YOU: can we at least talk about this? YOU: we're worried about you

It's been nearly 12 hours since you watched Taehyung disappear among the hustle and bustle of New York from your apartment window.

You and Jungkook were out all night searching for him. By the time you gave up the sun was rising and the birds were chirping and Jungkook somehow convinced your shivering form to return home to rest with a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart.

"It'll be okay. He'll be okay. He always is."

A phone call to your dad revealed he hadn't returned home that night; so where did he go exactly?

The weight of that question sits heavy in your chest as you sit backstage at the theatre, staring into your own vacant eyes in the dressing room mirror.

It's opening night. The show is due to start in fifteen minutes. Your lips are painted a deep shade of red, hair backcombed to perfection by one of the makeup artists. Beneath the harsh lights of the exposed bulbs that line the mirror, you look almost unrecognisable.

Confident, strong, successful.

Anyone would say your dreams had come true, or something sappy to that effect. But even as you sit among the hustle and bustle of the costume team and breathe in the fragrance of perfume and powder blush, you couldn't feel further away from the New York version of yourself if you tried.

Staring back at you is a reflection of the shy, terrified girl from Ocean City you worked so hard to forget. Yet here she is, mind whirring with worries for her brother instead of the lines she should be rehearsing to death before curtain call.

This should be your big moment. One which you will remember forever. But all you want to do right now is hold Taehyung close like you used to and tell him you're sorry and that you won't leave him again.

"Y/N!" You're snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You cover it with your own, instantly eased somewhat when you glance up and lock eyes with Jungkook in the mirror.

"Y/N, I found him."

"What?!" You jump to your feet, chair scraping obscenely. It draws the eyes of the people around you who quickly register Jungkook's polite smile as their cue to shuffle out of the dressing room and leave you two to talk. "Where is he? I need to talk to him—"

"He's not coming."

"What?"

Jungkook sinks into the chair beside you, forehead creased. He runs a hand through his hair and momentarily you catch a glimpse of the old Jungkook. The Jungkook that always took care of his best friend Taehyung.

"I...I gave him a ticket for the show tonight and told him to come. To see how much this really means to you...but—"

Your finger nails press half moons into your palms. "But what, Kook?"

"He was already leaving for Ocean City."

A sob wracks your frame. "Do you think he hates me?"

Jungkook's arms engulf you before the first tear can roll down your cheek, his chin tucking perfectly into the cleft of your shoulder. "Of course not, he's just...he's hurting right now."

"I can't lose him — not like this, Kook..."

"Shh. It'll all be okay."

You jump back and start to pace. "But it's not okay! What he said last night is true!"

Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"

Your knees buckle and you crumple. You can hardly breathe, shame washing over you as you admit the truth for the first time.

"I caused the accident! I'm the reason my mom's...she's..."

Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, voice soothing. "What are you talking about?"

"The night of the accident she got a call from some big buck director. She was cast in this huge movie. Her big break." You're speaking to fast, but Jungkook nods to tell you he's listening.

"So she told Taehyung and I we were leaving for New York that night. And we were packing our bags before my dad got home and...and I said I wasn't coming. I didn't wanna leave Ocean City behind."

"I kicked and cried and said I didn't want to go, so her and Taehyung took off by themselves and that's when they got into the crash. She was upset and going too fast. It was all because of me." You start to sob. You've never admitted this to anyone before. Not even yourself. It tears your heart in two to say it out loud. "I'm the reason Taehyung's broken."

"You can't think like that." Jungkook clasps your face in his hands, thumb wiping away a stray tear. He looks scared, but his voice stays calm and convincing. "What happened was an accident. You were a kid. None of this is your fault."

"That's why Taehyung must hate me so much." You choke. "I'm doing what mom always wanted to, but she never had the chance because of me."

"Y/N?" A crew member steps into the room awkwardly with a cough. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the show is about to start. The audience is getting restless."

"Go. I'll take care of Taehyung, okay?" Jungkook pulls you to your feet, engulfing you in a final hug before he pushes you towards the stage entrance at the small of your back. "You're needed out there. Show them what you're made of."

Your eyes widen. This can't be happening. Not now.

"I...I can't."

"You can." Jungkook grabs your face and captures your lips, hard. It tastes salty with tears. "You're my star remember?"

"I love you." You whisper when you pull back, fingers reaching for him weakly as a costume designer hurries you towards the door.

"I love you too." Jungkook calls. His smile is the last thing you see before the door slams shut and there's no going back. "Now go break a leg, pretty!"

Particles of dust float in and out of your vision beneath the blinding stage lights.

Everything feels different from side stage. Your heart races as you press your ear to the velvet curtain separating you from the world, listening to the hubbub of laughing children and chattering adults filtering into the theatre. You imagine them taking their seats, buying icecream from the vendors, alive with anticipation.

The lights dim. You hear the director behind you, shouting something about places please! but it's like you're underwater, limbs weighted as you move like a ghost to your position for the opening number.

Your palms are clammy and you wipe them on your dress.

Show starting in 5...

Your legs turn to jelly. You close your eyes and try to calm your racing thoughts.

4...

Taehyung. Is he okay? Why didn't he come tonight?

3...

Shit! What was your opening line again? Goddamnit, Y/N, think!

2...

Mom. Would she be proud?

1...

You open your eyes.

The curtain is gone, and a pair of hands pushes you out into the harsh white spotlight. You shield your eyes with your fingers, heart dropping when you look up and find hundreds of eyes staring. Staring right at you.

It's like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into the cool water below. Or fall.

Everything starts to blur. You're a teenager again, stood on the stage at the Crestmont. Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you don't know whether to scream or to run.

Run. Run. Run.

Your mouth opens, then closes. There's an awkward cough from the audience. Words run your mind in circles, but none of them are right, and before they can reach your lips they evaporate on your tongue.

Your panicked eyes roam the sea of seats that zoom in and out of focus. Your knees buckle, and you're sure you are going to pass out right here in front of everyone, but then your eyes meet a familiar pair of brown ones that makes the room stop spinning for a moment.

Jungkook. He's smiling at you, fingers crossed in his lap. There's not a trace of nerves in his gaze as he nods for you to go ahead.

I believe in you.

Just then the door to the theatre flies open and every head in the audience turns towards the darkly clothed figure shuffling through the aisles, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's until he reaches the empty seat beside your boyfriend.

He lets down his hood, shakes free a head of blonde hair that's still damp from the rain. He's out of breath, like he ran here.

Taehyung.

Your brother looks up at you, frozen in place, and his eyes soften. He flashes you a thumbs up and his lips curl around the four words you needed to hear.

You can do this.

And just like that, the panic disappears. The words come flooding back, and your body flies into action, moving across the stage

You forget all about the fear, and the anxiety, and Taehyung and the Crestmont. For now it's just you and the stage, together in harmony.

And you've never felt more alive than when you take your final bow and the crowd roars to life, just like you always imagined it would.

Your jaw hurts from smiling, and before you know it you're crying. Because when you squint against the theatre lights, you see Taehyung and Jungkook in the front row, holding each other and shouting your name.

Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!

"Hey! Be careful!"

The bouquet of congratulatory geraniums cradled in your arms gets crushed between your body and your brother's. He practically tackled you as soon as you entered the dressing room, carried on the cheering shoulders of the other cast and crew members.

"Holy shit." Taehyung holds you at arms length. His eyes are ringed red around the edges. "You were amazing, Y/N."

"You really think so?" Tears start to well and you're so happy to see him that you throw your arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you came, Tae."

"Yeah. You were just like her." He smiles. "Just like mom."

You share a small, sad smile. You've heard those words all your life but it feels different when it comes from Taehyung.

Jungkook pops his head into the room. He catches your eye over Taehyung's shoulder, and flashes you a small smile when he sees you cradling him in your arms.

Talk to him. He mouths, and you're suddenly reminded of why Taehyung came here in the first place.

"Hey listen—"

"Taehyung—"

You both start to talk, bursting into easy laughter when the other stops, seemingly hit with the same idea at the same time.

"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.

"Okay." He pulls you over to the couch. "I'm just...I'm sorry for storming out last night. I shouldn't have come here and expected you to help me—"

"No, stop. I'm sorry." You place a hand over his. "I want to help." You hold an arm out to Jungkook, who crosses the room and slides his hand into yours. "We want to help. We want to save the Crestmont."

Taehyung's eyes bulge. His voice drops to a whisper. "Really?"

"You were right. The Crestmont was mom's place."

You think about how it felt to be out there on the stage, in front of a crowd cheering your name. The excitement, the exhilaration. Your first stage.

The Crestmont is your mom's first stage. It's where she felt those same emotions for the first time. You can't let it be demolished. Not for anything.

"She deserves a legacy. We can't let them tear it down. I don't know how yet, but we'll save it."

"Thank you." A tear streaks his cheek, and his arms pull you and Jungkook into a tight bear hug.

"Thank you. For showing me what really matters, Tae." You whisper. "Let's do this together, okay?"

"For mom."

Taehyung holds out his pinky finger, and you link yours with his.

"For mom."

Where things go wrong.

Six months later.

Every second that passes is marked by a deafening tick from the kitchen clock.

Jungkook was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago. You're sat alone at the dinner table, a carefully presented meal for two spread across your mom's old polka dot table cloth. You even lit candles.

With a sigh you drop your chin into your hand, absentmindedly pushing your spaghetti around the dish while your eyes remain trained to the front door that will open any moment.

To be honest, it's been months since you and Jungkook shared a meal together. He spends most of his nights in his office, hunched over his laptop staring at the blinking cursor on some script he'll never finish. And ever since Jungkook's big script got rejected and he fell into a slump of no work, he had to get a job at a local convenience store all day for some spare cash to get you through the month.

You know he hates it. He hates the rude customers and how he can never shower the smell of grease out of his hair.

You know the bickering that turned into arguing that turned into fighting was just a result of his restless aggravation at being shot down too many times. Of watching his dream slip right through his fingers.

But you haven't exactly been as understanding as you should have been. You're overworked too, with the play, and The Crestmont, and you hate how easy it was to accept sleeping apart and missing dinner dates.

So you texted him to tell him you were making dinner tonight. A cease fire of sorts, or maybe just a feeble attempt at glueing back together the cracks that have appeared between you recently with pasta sauce and meatballs.

But he's late. Again.

And it makes you wonder whether there was any point in trying.

"Y/N?"

A gravelly voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Keys jangle onto the counter, shoes are slipped from feet and thrown into the storage cupboard with the creaky door.

"I'm in here." Your voice sounds meek, but you straighten and muster up a smile. To show at least one of you is making an effort.

Jungkook appears in the doorway, clad in his ugly traffic cone orange uniform. His shoulders are slumped, bangs limply stuck to his forehead. He looks tired, exhausted.

"What's all this?" He nods disinterestedly towards your untouched homemade buffet before heading to the sink to fix himself a glass of water.

"Dinner." You cough. He stiffens. "Remember?"

"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flash with something close to guilt momentarily, but then he smoothes it out. "Yeah. Dinner."

"It's okay, you're not too late. We can just heat this up in the microwave—"

"I already ate, Y/N." The glass in his hand slams onto the counter a little too loudly. "At the store."

You can't hide the way your face drops.

"Please." You whisper. "For me?"

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, unblinking, before he exhales shakily and pulls out the seat opposite you.

"What's on the menu?" He asks, hands already grabbing for the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table without so much as a glance at the food you worked so hard to prepare.

"Pasta."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence settles. Jungkook nibbles at a meatball, and you suddenly feel too sick to the stomach to keep anything down.

You jump when Jungkook's fork clatters to the table. He wipes pasta sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin and you're sure you can see a slight tremor in his grasp.

"There's something I need to tell you."

His words ring out into the deafening silence that shrouds the apartment. You train your eyes to the candle in the middle of the table that flickers back and forth and carefully place down your own cutlery.

"Should I be worried?"

"No...I mean, I don't know. Maybe." Jungkook waves his hands around and when his eyes meet yours they're distant. Like the table that separates you spans oceans. "Just promise not to freak out."

"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."

Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"

"I gave them a different script."

Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.

"Huh?"

"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."

Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.

"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"

The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.

"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"

"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."

"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"

"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."

"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.

"Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."

He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."

"What?"

The room starts to spin.

"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."

"This?" You whisper.

"Us."

"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"

He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"

Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.

"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."

"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."

"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.

"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."

"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.

"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."

The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.

It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.

Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.

Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.

"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."

With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.

DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.

All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.

When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.

"Y/N?"

The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.

"Over here."

Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.

"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.

"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.

"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.

"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."

Taehyung chokes. "What?!"

"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."

He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."

A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.

"I miss mom." You blurt.

It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.

"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."

"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"

"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."

"That's not true."

"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"

"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"

"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."

Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"

"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."

Accepting.

"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."

"So what did you do?"

"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."

And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.

You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”

"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."

You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"

Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"

"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"

"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."

You scramble to your knees. "What?"

"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."

And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.

"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"

"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."

"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.

"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.

"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.

Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.

It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.

You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.

"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."

You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?

"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."

There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."

He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.

You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"

"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."

"Why?" Your voice is small.

"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."

The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.

Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.

"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."

"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.

"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"

Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."

"But--"

"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."

You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.

"I love you too."

"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"

"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"

"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."

Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.

"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."

Your jaw drops. "A what now?"

"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."

"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."

Epilogue.

"Just keep your eyes shut!"

"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.

"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."

A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.

By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.

"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.

Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.

"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."

You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.

The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.

"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.

Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"

Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.

Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.

The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."

You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.

"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."

"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.

It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.

"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.

"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.

Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."

Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.

The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.

I love you.

Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.

The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.

"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.

"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."

"What can I say? You're my muse."

"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."

It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."

"Oh?"

He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."

"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?

Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.

"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."

He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.

"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.

You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.

"I love you too, Kook."

Where there are new beginnings

Ocean City is the same as it always was.

You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.

The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.

And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.

But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.

Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.

But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.

And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.

You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon​ !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol! 

Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland​ because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~

Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.

[canmom]

Toku Tuesday 47 - Michelle Yeoh

Hi friends!

Very quick intro to Toku Tuesday tonight, since we’ve basically already covered what is to be said of Daniels on Toku Tuesday 45 and the followup post; moreover I wrote about Everything, Everywhere yesterday. Now it’s available on streaming services, which means in turn it can spread to the pirates, and that means it’s taking up about half the remaining space on my SSD.

I should probably do something about that...

To accompany that, let’s make our theme tonight the cornerstone of the film, lead actress Michelle Yeoh. Which makes this also an excuse to watch the film we didn’t manage to watch on TT #45: Yes, Madam (1985), her debut film. Yeoh would of course go on to be a huuuge martial arts star taking an enormous variety of roles in both China and the US.

Conveniently, Accented Cinema, go-to ‘youtuber who knows about the Chinese film industry’, just released a video about her...

So, as Accented discusses...

Yeoh got her start in beauty pageants and then shooting ads - starting with one alongside Jackie Chan! - but she was eager to take on action roles at the time nigh exclusively male; and got her opportunity when D&B Films decided to make an action film starring two women to set itself apart from the other ‘heroic bloodshed’ films of the time (c.f. TT #32). Hence Yes, Madam; Yeoh did all her own stunts and generally made everyone sit up and take notice.

She performed in a few more films with D&B, in each one wearing a similar short-haired look in contrast to her previous image. In this period, there was a heavy expectation that women movie stars in Hong Kong should marry and retire early, and Yeoh accordingly married the head of D&B films... but divorced him five years later to return to acting, landing alongside Jackie Chan once again in Police Story III (1992) as a military commander. This set up an extraordinarily prolific 90s; at first mostly action movies but starting with The Stunt Double (A Jin de gu shi) in 1996, increasingly more drama-oriented roles, leading up to going to Taiwan for her famous performance as conflicted matriach (and elite martial artist, some things don’t change) Yu Shu Lien in Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon in 2000.

Parallel to this, there is another strand. I hate to talk about James Bond in any capacity whatsoever, but hey, it’s part of this story. James Bond movies, one of my country’s most odious exports after like... colonialism, have a tradition of ‘Bond girls’, (at least) one in each movie; the designated Hot Girl who inevitably ends up getting fucked by the avatar of aspirational British masculinity. So, Accented reports, in Tomorrow Never Dies (1997), they attempted to cash in on the kung fu trend by hiring Michelle Yeoh for the role; a love interest but in a new model of more action-oriented Bond girl.

The positive upshot of this is that, well, it established her internationally in the role of ‘glamorous ass kicker’ as Accented puts it. But from this point it seems she ascended to a power level where she could play pretty much anyone, and tracing her filmography at this point sees her playing in both US and Hong Kong productions pretty much equally: wuxia, historical dramas, quite a lot of sci-fi, even animated films (from comedy-wuxia to... minions, huh?)...

OK, what more to say than ‘dang, this actor sure acted in a lot of films over her acting career’? Usually when I write these things I end up focusing on directors, or perhaps studios or countries, perhaps since you can tie the story to the content of the art in a fairly direct way. Yeoh’s definitely had her influence: from the very beginning she pushed hard for, as an example, women to get more action roles, and was extremely successful not just in getting her own career out of it, but in that ugly mercenary system, establishing that this could sell to help open the possibility of other women getting such roles. The same goes for, well, the more-than-a-little fraught history of Asian characters in American movies; she’s evidently made quite a point of not getting pigeonholed. (Something relevant to Everything, Everywhere, which is in part about reintroducing depth to such limited roles.)

If you watch the video essay above, there’s a really interesting part at the end where Accented contrasts two superficially similar performances, one as the experienced geisha Mameha in Memoirs of a Geisha, the other as rich matriarch Eleanor in Crazy Rich Asians, and highlighting the different kinds of confidence that Yeoh performs in e.g. walks. I really like this kind of observation, because it’s the kind of breakdown I’m going to need to learn to perform more and more if i’m gonna git gud an animator. Anyway, it’s not merely that she insists on getting cast in different roles, but that she has the immense skill needed to give those distinct performances appropriate to each one.

Still, does the success of one actor really make that much difference to the ebb and flow of the ~film industry~, let alone society at large? Well, maybe. Perhaps more so than anyone in a film, even the director, actors are not just the people themselves, but elaborate clusters of symbols build up by the reproduction of their image and insertion into narratives. Michelle Yeoh isn’t just the flesh-and-blood human, who very likely none of us will ever meet, but the constructed icon ‘Michelle Yeoh’ built by the camera and the marketing machine who comes to represent certain things in the world. Is the magic power invested in this supervening egregore the result of the personal choices and talents of Yeoh herself, or did the historical moment of the mid 1980s with its various gender, economic etc. dynamics have a slot in it for someone a bit like her, and she’s the one who had the luck to get selected by history? Well, probably something of both, eh.

Regardless of what contingent history led us to this point, she’s really fucking good at acting and it’s a joy to watch her in movies.

So!! If you’d like to do just that, at around 8pm (ish) UK time, roughly five hours hence, we will gather to observe the two ends of Yeoh’s career (so far!) with Yes, Madam (1985) and Everything, Everywhere, All At Once (2022) at twitch.tv/canmom !

(considering switching to picarto but let’s stick with what we know for now since i’m not sure how copyright enforcement works there).

[yelenasdog]

𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐖𝐈  𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: wherever they go, it seems they can’t escape each other

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6.09k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smoking, drinking, kissing, getting ~steamy~, but nothing explicit.

𝐚/𝐧: this kinda feels melodramatic at times, but over all i think this is an alright fic that took me forever LOL! i hope you enjoy it! btw,

this can be read as ben!rog or just rog, i just was thinking of ben!rog when i wrote it

also if u wanna listen to kiwi while listening, the vibes would be immaculate and i reccomend it :D kk enjoy

✺🎬✺

Her footsteps were mute as she padded forward on the concrete, searching furiously through her crochet bag. The box in her hands stayed tightly gripped though, Roger noted. He waited a bit until he was certain she had no chance of finding what he thought she was looking for, and that he would be her last resort.

“Need a light?”

He watched with careful eyes as the girl next to him fumbled about to pick out a cigarette from the nearly emptied box, probably just some cheap ones from the gas station near the dorms.

“Yes, thanks.”

The brunet nodded, bringing his forward to her’s and inhaling, a few loose embers falling to the ground in a sparkling orange flurry.

Roger observed the way her chipped nails on ring adorned fingers shakily held the cigarette as she brought it to her lips, taking a very long drag.

It was windy out that night (which was the reason he was telling himself he decided not to bother with his Zippo), her silky black dress doing barely a thing to keep her covered from the chilly temperatures. He noticed the blue tint to her formerly painted lips, only a pale stain of color left behind. He also happened to notice the goosebumps that graced her exposed arms and legs, and her slight shiver that came with it.

The girl nervously adjusted the twisted strap to her purse, sending a glance in Rog’s direction every once in a while, but mostly she kept her gaze fixed on the stars above. She seemed to be mesmerized by the way they twinkled so brightly, even in the polluted sky. The bottles of liquor in her purse clinked together, and she cringed visibly at the sound, a shiver being sent through her bones.

He smiled at her behavior, oddly endeared by it, perhaps even enchanted.

“What’s your name?”

She turned, taking the stick from between her lips. Roger kept his eyes glued to the plump flesh momentarily despite the movement away from the area.

“That’s none of your business, Roger.” She smiled, a playful look set ablaze in her eyes.

He looked down, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

“How do you know my name, then?” He questioned curiously, slanting his eyes and quirking a brow.

“Your band.” Her voice seemed softer, almost a fond tone set within it.

“You’ve seen us play?”

“Yeah, you guys are good.”

“You’re a fan then?”

She chuckled, looking to her feet.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

He laughed, nodding yet again.

They stayed together for some time, silently and mutually agreeing that enough had been said. They finished off their smokes, and with that, she turned to go.

“Bye, Roger.”

He bit his lip, feeling the sting shoot through him. He was conflicted on if to make a move, not wanting to diminish his confident and cool reputation he believed he had built for himself. He settled for shouting something along the lines of “will I see you around?” (which upon thinking back over it, maybe it wasn’t that cool), to which she only shrugged and kept walking.

He could hear the bottles loudly clanking together as she sauntered off, lord knows where to. He watched her go until she turned the corner, tossing one final look in his direction before continuing on, leaving him in deep thought.

-

“I’m telling you, mate, she was drop dead gorgeous. And I have no idea who she is, no name or anything!”

Brian rolled his eyes, tossing his notebook across the room onto the yellow sofa Roger was resting on, turning his full attention to his distraught friend.

“Well, did you ask her for her name?”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes in a similar manner to Bri. “Yes, I did. She said it was ‘none of my business’.” He scoffed, twirling a single drumstick between his fingers while tapping his foot repeatedly, annoying Brian to no end (per usual). The curly headed man only barked out a laugh, finding the entire situation quite humorous, if he was being honest.

“But she knew the band! Said that she thought we were good. S’ like she couldn’t make up her damn mind.” He grumbled, slumping forward.

“Wait, she knows the band?”

The drummer looked at him like he had two heads nodding slowly.

“Yeah, what about it?”

Brian stood up and sighed, grabbing his guitar and headed to the edge of the bar’s stage, resting behind the curtain briefly.

“You really are thick, Roger.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” He joined him by the curtain, noticing Tim had come up behind the pair.

“What’s all this about, then?”

“Nothing.” Brian and Roger replied in unison. Tim huffed, making his way onto the stage where the growing crowd was waiting. Cheers could be heard for the frontman as he introduced himself, saying something about how the rest of the band would be out in a second, and that they were just having some “sound issues”.

“Rog, if she’s a fan, she’s probably here tonight, yes?”

His eyes widened, and he suddenly began to feel quite dumb, not that he would admit it.

“Yeah, I suppose so…but she said she wasn’t a fan?” He trailed off, confused.

“She probably was just saying that for some reason. I don’t know, women are odd, they like to play hard to get.” Brian commented, oddly flippant for how conflicting his statement was.

Roger stood in place for a moment, still greatly confused what Brian was trying to get at. He shook his head and furrowed his brows, trying to put together the puzzle of this mess in his mind.

“Roger, for God's sake, don’t think about it, just go.”

Following his advice, Roger did his best to disregard any previous thoughts of confusion, a switch flipping in his mind. He stood taller, saying, “You know what Bri, maybe you’re right.”

“Great, go on then.” He watched as Roger bounded out with a newfound adrenaline and a smile plastered on his face, rolling his eyes for what wouldn’t be the final time that night at his bandmate’s antics.

As soon as he had made it behind his kit, he was scanning the crowded room, trying to locate the girl from last night. He watched the door throughout the performance, trying to see if she might have just come in a bit late. He held the hope she would somehow show up with him in his mind, but all to no avail.

The entire night, he couldn’t shake the thought of her lips from his mind, or the way the skin of her neck was so open and exposed, practically begging for him to attack it with his own lips. And with the way things were going thus far, he was sure that pretty face of her’s would be the death of him, he was certain, in fact.

“Find her?” Bri had questioned almost as soon as they had ended for the night, the lot of them now working on cleaning up.

“Nah. She never showed up.”

“I’m sorry, Rog. Maybe you’ll see her again soon, the campus isn’t that huge, you know.” Roger’s mouth formed a thin line as he raised his eyebrows, not convinced in the slightest that the situation proposed would occur.

“At this point I’m wondering if she’s even a bloody student here.” Roger grumbled, obviously no longer feeling the initial electric adrenaline of the night's performance.

Brian frowned, placing a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder and patting it once or twice before standing to go finish packing up.

It was later now, and the boys were finally leaving the bar, bidding their goodbyes to those around them. Roger walked out the front (in what Tim and Brian joked was a ‘moping manner’), hearing the bell jangle above his head, ringing annoyingly in his ear. The cold air hit him like an arctic breeze (or a ton of bricks, he wasn’t sure which description was more fitting). He shook his head and blinked a few times, as if that would rid his body of the frigid feeling. He sighed dramatically and pulled his corduroy jacket tighter around himself, watching as his breath made a small cloud in front of him.

“Roger?”

He turned, recognizing the voice immediately.

“Having a pity party, are you?” She giggled out, wrapping her arms around her middle.

“It’s only me, so no. Not a party.”

She “ahh”-d in understanding, her mouth forming into a sly grin. Her lips were a pale pink color that night, her eyes a bright blue shade. And similarly to the night previous, she was graced with only a brown fringed dress, her matching boots in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

“Then what would it be if I joined you?”

He stood in thought, tilting his head. “I think then, yeah, it would be a party.”

“Do you not get cold, ever?” He added after a beat of silence, observing her ill outfit choice for the frosty climate. She rolled her eyes, muttering out a brief “ha, ha.”

Roger couldn’t help but bite his lip, holding back a laugh.

“I do on occasion get a little bit chilly. But I like the feeling.”

He tilted his head, walking over to where she was leaning against the brick wall of the dive bar. He turned to face her, not that she noticed, putting his weight on the rough surface behind him.

“It makes me feel,” she hesitated, struggling to find the right word, although she felt it was right on the tip of her tongue.

“Alive?”

She finally met his eyes after what seemed like forever, softly nodding. To him, she looked like an angel in that moment, the street light so beautifully illuminating her locks like a halo around her. He reached a cautious hand forward, dragging it against her cheek, down to her bottom lip.

Her mind was screaming at her to leave while she still could, to somehow not fall in the mix of the infamous campus player that was Roger Taylor.

But her heart? Well, as cliche as it sounds, her heart was telling her to disregard any reasonable thoughts and just kiss the bastard, for God’s sake.

And if anyone knew Y/n Y/l/n, they knew that most times, she would listen to the latter mentioned, rather than the former. And so after several moments of unbearable silence, she decided she would. Catching on relatively fast, Roger took her flush against him, Y/n able to feel his breath fanning over her face.

She leaned forward with a small smile, placing her hands on either side of his face. Her eyes wandered to his plump and rosy lips, adrenaline pumping through her veins. But before she could make the final leap, so to say, Brian, of all people, called out her name in a confused nature, squinting, believing that it might have been his eyes deceiving him. The girl from his 9 a.m. lecture could not possibly be about to snog his bandmate.

Impossible.

Her eyes widened, head turning immediately when hearing her name fall from his lips.

“Brian, hey!”

“Wait, you two know each other?”

Ignoring Roger’s (panicked) question, Brian walked over, a look of amazement still prevalent in his features. She moved from Roger’s side over to Brian, giving him a side hug, Bri’s arm resting on her shoulders.

“I see you’ve met Y/n. She’s in my astronomy class.”

She smiled brightly as the neon signs lining the downtown district of bars and restaurants alike, meeting Brians gaze.

“Yup, got to love Dr. Martin’s lectures.” She chuckled, the tall man next to her doing the same.

Picking up on Roger’s absolutely bewildered appearance, still taking in the situation unfolding in front of him, Brian took the liberty of initiating another conversation.

“So, Y/n, did you see the show tonight?”

She frowned, crossing her arms.

“Wanted to, but no, got caught up in the library. I have my final for statistics on Thursday, or else I would have been there.” She locked eyes with Roger, giving him a soft smile. Suddenly changing her demeanor, she reached into her bag she always seemed to have with her, pulling out those cheap cigarettes and her Zippo. She lit one of the sticks, inhaling.

“In fact, I heard your drummer was incredible, so I thought I would try to see him in action tonight.” Her gaze never left Rogers as she conversed, her mouth pressed in a line, the rest of her face completely neutral.

“But you’ve seen us before Y/n, he’s been with the band for quite some time.”

“I mean, I wanted to see him with a fresh pair of eyes, a different perspective, I guess.”

Still mildly confused, Brain shook his head and muttered something like “Right, okay” to which Y/n softly smiled at before dropping the cigarette from her hand. Barefoot, she couldn’t reach down to step on it, have the sparks die out under her toes.

“Could one of you get that, please?”

Roger nodded immediately, his boot finding its way quickly, the toe of it making a circular motion. His eyes stayed on Y/n, as had hers before. And despite the bustling city around them, Hell, even despite Brian’s perplexed stare, it felt oddly intimate, as if they were locked onto each other’s view (not that they were complaining).

But they weren’t, as she proved mere seconds later, abruptly bidding them goodbye and heading the opposite direction.

The pair of boys watched her as she went, heads tilted and jaws dropped to where if their mothers were present, they would be scolded to “close their mouths before they catch flies in there!”.

“That’s her, you know.” Roger commented bluntly, slightly shaking his head and then popping his lip.

Brian took a moment, turning toward his friend, stuttering.

“As in, her, her? Y/n is mystery girl?” He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah, well, good luck with that, Rog.”

“Why would I need that, Brian?” He challenged, putting his hands on his hips, lifting his chin. Brain kept his assumed position, moving his hand to scratch at his neck.

‘Well, I’m sure if you hang out around her enough, you’ll find out.”

Rather than shouting out at him, asking him what the Hell he meant, as he really wanted to, Roger paid Bri no attention, not even giving him a second look before under his breath saying “I’ll see you later”, and in what Brian considered to be a quite shocking turn of events, bolting off in the direction Y/n had gone.

He ignored the shouts from Brian, ignored the judgmental stares and loud whispers of those who recognized him from the band. He no longer cared about keeping his ‘cool reputation’, not when she was so close.

“Is that Roger Taylor?”, “Oi, isn’t that the drummer from the band at the pub?”, “Hey, why’s he buggin’ out?” all flooded his ears, usually followed by what seemed to be snickering, making a desperate attempt to cloud his mind from his self-assigned mission. But it was no use, as he was set on catching up to her. In fact, she was so close he swore he could smell the mixed scent that was uniquely her, smoke and her perfume.

He hollered her name, God, he yelled it till his throat was hoarse, just ‘cause he could. He loved the way it rolled off his tongue, he loved the fact he even had learned it to begin with, and that alone was probably why he adored it so much.

She heard his cries, turning where she stood and tilting her head.

“Roger? What on Earth are you doing?”

He finally met her, bent over on his hands and knees, breath lost in totality. She placed a concerned hand on his sweaty head, combing through his chocolate locks. He would have shivered at the feeling, if he had the energy. Rather, he looked up with the goofiest smile she’d ever seen, resembling a golden retriever, or german shepherd perhaps, in human form.

‘D’you wanna go somewhere with me? Hang out a bit?”

She nodded, holding out a hand.

“Lead the way.”

-

“Mom and Dad want me to be some kind of a scientist, study the stars.”

“Yeah? And what do you think about that.”

She tilted her head, shifting her position.

“I’m not quite sure. I wouldn’t be against it, that I know. The stars are beautiful, but they aren’t where my heart lies, I guess.”

He turned to face her, their noses almost touching. She could feel his breath fanning over her face, and the proximity sent butterflies through her stomach.

“I want to be an actress.” She all but whispered, turning her attention back to the full night sky and the wonders that hung in it.

“An actress, huh?”

She only hummed a confirmation, moving her left hand to pick at the cool grass under her palms.

“I could see that. You, I mean, on the big screens.”

She turned, and Roger swore he had never seen anyone smile so big before in his life.

“Really?”

His own smile grew, and she nodded vigorously, the two of them beginning to laugh. He pulled her closer by her shoulders, unaware of where the conversation would lead.

“I’ll go to New York. You’ll see me on billboards in Times Square.”

“Well, that’s nice to know. I’ll just be a lone dentist somewhere, while you forget all about me, having lavish parties and such. Whatever it is that famous people do.” His voice was obviously joking, melodramatic was written all over him, yet Y/n couldn’t help but still feel a sliver of guilt.

She hit his arm, rolling back over to face him. She still had a smile glued onto her lips, both of their eyes crinkling at the edges. 

“Oh, shut up, will you? Smile will make it big, and we’ll meet again, when you’re on tour. Or perhaps if I’m filming where you’re performing! We’ll have those nights to ourselves, It’ll be a secret rendezvous.”

She turned to her back again, finding his hand on the damp green, her heart beating a million miles a second as she reached for it, slowly entangling her fingers in his.

“The papers will write about us, Rog, when they find out. ‘Famous actress Y/n Y/l/n seen leaving a hotel with renowned drummer Roger Taylor’ is what the headlines will say. God, what a scene we’ll cause.” Her eyes were full of  excitement as she spoke, her heart feeling like it was so filled with glee that it could soar out of her chest.

“Well, I wanna know the specifics.” Roger sat up, pulling her up with him, she giggled, and the brunette wrapped a hand around her waist. She sat beside him, the streetlight by the backroad she had led them on illuminating her like a silhouette. She bit her lip and grinned, tilting her head up to better exam Rogers angelic features.

“Are you gonna have some bloke waiting for you at home, hmm? Waiting for you while you conquer the world, only for you to break his poor heart?”

“Nah.” Her answer was immediate, her eyes honest as she spoke. “Only a cactus. He’ll be my only friend. I hear it’s lonely in Hollywood, Roger.” He raised his eyebrows briefly at this, choosing his next words.

“You’ll have me?”

His head turned to look at her, admiring the way the pale moonlight illuminated her, the artificial light from the streetlamps not doing her neverending beauty and justice, in his opinion. Their eyes seemed sporadic, searching each other's faces for signs of what they were doing, possibly being wrong, but they found nothing, as expected.

The yearning had become all too much for the inspired pair, and it felt like at last, all they could do, the only thing they could do, was kiss.

So they did. Roger took her face in his hands, closing his beautiful eyes, his eyelashes barely brushing against hers. He leaned forward, joining them together, finding that they immediately moved in a perfect synchronization. They were like two sides of the same coin, and that seemed to be particularly evident in that moment. By the contrast of their lips, or perhaps the aspirations of their careers becoming somehow just a little bit clearer.

But it didn’t matter, none of it did. Not in the long run. So they pulled apart, chests heaving and faces painted with childish grins.

It was quiet then, only the crickets and the howling wind could be heard. But she liked it that way, preferred it, actually. So quiet, in fact, that Roger was able to fall fast asleep, Y/n lying comfortably in his arms. She stared at the stars, then back to his sleeping figure, her mind unable to come to a consensus on what on God's green Earth she was to do. 

She settled for placing a kiss on his jaw, closing her eyes. His eyes only fluttered, never waking completely. She muttered something like “See you, rockstar.” against it, before standing up and walking away, only turning back once to see his sleeping form one more time.

That was the last time for 6 years that he would see Y/n Y/l/n. See her in person, at least.

When he woke up the next morning, he was confused to say the least, wondering why Y/n didn’t wake him, mostly wondering where she had even gone. He looked around himself, patting the green grass beneath him, as if she somehow was invisible and he had missed her upon initial glance. He had shouted for her, his throat still hurting from when he did the same thing only 12 hours previous. 

He had felt out of control, like the one he had been chasing had just slipped through his fingers (which it had). He had remembered asking Bri, day after day, if he had seen her in class, even just seen her around in general. Everytime the answer was the same.

“No Roger”, “I’m sorry, Roger”, “Not today, Roger”. It was a horrible, predictable pattern, that he had enough of. He was supposed to recover from it quickly, bounce back from her almost immediately, as there was basically nothing to bounce back from.

But he couldn’t, and due to such reasons, he supposed he finally understood what Brian had said, or warned, that night before he had gone chasing after her. He got it, in his own sad way.

And over the years, she slowly faded to the back of the drummer's mind, behind groupies, and songs, and shows, and such, just for her to resurface again any time he saw her on a billboard, just as she had promised. But he never let it show, outwardly at least.

He had made Brian swear not to tell the others, never to breathe a word of it to Deaky or Fred. He was embarrassed by it, for some reason, and that’s why he guessed he forbade him from speaking of it. But how long can you keep a silly college secret from your nosy bandmates? Apparently 6 years, tops, for Roger Taylor.

“Alright, everyone. Gather ‘round, I’ve got a surprise.” Freddie had said, his grumbling bunch of friends tired from their day’s work. Though, they usually had grown to appreciate and look forward to Fred’s “surprises”, today everyone was just a tad bit too grumpy to try (a certain Roger Taylor in particular, let’s call it foreshadowing).

“Oh, stop your moaning and whining, please, I promise this will be good!” the eccentric frontman had said, something hidden behind his back in his left hand.

Rog ran a hand through his, now, blond hair, exhaling in such a way that made Freddie slant his eyes, before giving in and rolling them at his flippant behavior.

“What’s going on, Fred?” Brian had been the brave soul to ask, stepping forward and then looking away momentarily to place his guitar onto a stand waiting not so far away.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He replied, jumping down from his place on the risers, removing his hand from his back and holding out what seemed to be 4 tickets to something. He walked down the loosely formed line of men, putting one in each of their extended palms. Roger, at the end of their formation of sorts, became concerned when Brian had burst out laughing, looking to his right, being met with Roger’s face of confusion.

Freddie, possibly more confused than Roger, pressing the piece of thick paper into his hand, his gaze falling onto Brian, who now had tears in his eyes.

“Bri, what’s so… funny. Shit.” He had looked down to the slip, the only words he needed to read to know he was absolutely screwed, being “Jaws” and “Premiere”.

Now, anybody who knew anything, knew that Y/n Y/l/n was going to be in the film that was said to become the blockbuster of the summer, playing the role of Ellen Brody (though a few had said she was far too young for the job). She had been an overnight success in the film industry, gaining popularity from the 1973 film, ‘The Sting’, playing Billie.

And Roger had watched ‘The Sting’, and you can imagine his surprise when Y/n had sauntered onto screen, red lipped and fresh faced. (He had to admit, she looked great in a suit.)

After that, the assault on Roger’s fragile heart was never ending.

Billboards began to pop up even more frequently as she was to star in more films, and it seemed no matter where he was touring, he couldn’t escape her. Whether it was posters, her face printed on newspapers, adverts in about every place business was done for one of her films, he felt like he was being followed. He had even seen an article about her in a magazine, and when he had flipped the page he was greeted with Queen’s smiling faces.

He had stopped watching them after ‘American Graffiti’.

So, he figured that this one wouldn’t be any different, and he simply planned on ignoring said film until he caved, doing his best to avoid her on the silver screen and anywhere else, which hadn’t been too difficult until this point (not).

But this? This was a whole new level of being royally fucked.

“Brian, Rog, something you want to share with the rest of the class?” John had asked, cocking his head and propping his legs up on the coffee table in front of him. Brian began to speak, wrapping an arm around Roger’s shoulders, the shorter man looking up at him with angry fire burning in his eyes.

“Well, I’m honestly quite excited. The film industry has always seemed very intriguing, actually, and I’m looking forward to meeting new people. Rog?”

“No.”

“No?” John repeated, “No, what?” He waved a hand around, trying to understand what Roger’s problem was.

“I just- I don’t- I knew-”

“Roger had a fling with Y/n Y/l/n and she broke his heart.” Brain blurted out, Roger turning and immediately smacking him upside his curly head of hair. He regarded an “Ouch!” before him and the rest of the boys burst out laughing, the drummer not included in that demographic, fuming.

“Rog, darling, when was this? How did we not know?” Freddie managed to breathe out, sitting down next to Deaky on the studio sofa. He crossed his hands and ankles, his full attention turned towards Roger who really, really didn’t wanna have to do this, and who really, really was gonna get Brian back for this later. Would he untune all his guitars? Unplug his amp during rehearsals, perhaps put hair remover in his shampoo? But, that would have to wait until after he was forced to spill his 6 year secret.

“It was in 69-”

“69?!” Freddie had cried out. “It’s been 6 bloody years? And you didn’t think to tell us?”

“Well I didn’t really see a reason it would be necessary to tell you all! In fact, I probably wouldn’t have told you ever if this bloke didn’t have such a big mouth!”

“Hey, watch it.” Brian weighed in, crossing his arms and fluttering his eyes.

“Look, Roger I really don’t see the issue here. We go to the premiere, you just keep a low profile and ignore Y/n, problem solved.” John cut in, trying to be helpful.

Keyword: trying.

“And how exactly will I do that?”

“We will behave, I promise.” Freddie added, though Roger seemed to be having a difficult time believing him or his claim for the others. So Roger only scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

-

Cameras were flashing brightly, reporters and such were shouting loudly, and Y/n was already exhausted.

Her red lips were painted like DeAngelo had done it himself, and her hair was styled just the way she liked. The heels she was wearing per request of her stylist, though, were horrible. They looked lovely, yes, but they were digging into her poor ankles, and she still had to wear them for who knew how long. She didn’t complain, though, she wouldn’t dream of it.

She would just continue her slow walk down the carpet, a sultry smile on her face. The black fabric of the gown she was wearing fit her beautifully, snug in all the right places.

She sure hoped it was, at least. Especially because she knew that he would be there.

Roger Taylor, the blessed drummer that managed to make a home in the backburner of her mind, his success coming as no surprise to the actress. She had loved every one of their records, and rather than running from his work like Roger had, she opted for going straight to the record shop, purchasing any and every Queen album in her sight. When she had checked out, the very shocked cashier had made some remark, asking something about “you a fan?”

She had thought about it for a moment, thinking back to all those years ago when Roger had asked the same thing. She smiled, shrugging.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

So when she had worked up the courage to invite the entire band to the premiere (on behalf of Spielberg, of course) she was a nervous wreck to find out they had accepted. Really, ask anyone who had any contact with her in the time from then to the premiere, they could testify that her moodiness had risen like a hot air balloon.

Now, though, she was kind of regretting that she had invited them, looking over to the sharp looking bunch, all dressed to the nines. She scanned her eyes over them, catching a wave from Brian, which she gladly returned with an enthusiastic smile. Bri then tapped Roger on the shoulder to alert him of Y/n’s acknowledgment, which resulted in Y/n’s eyes widening to the size of moons.

She turned her head, and worked to finish up her walk of the carpet just a tad bit faster. It all seemed to be for nothing, though, as in the dark of the theater for the premiere itself, she saw the seat next to her be filled, a presence filling her senses.

“Miss me?”

-

Their hands were all over each other, not truly caring if the tabloids caught a glimpse, just needing to make up for lost time.

They had stumbled into the golden hotel both her and Queen were staying in, the swinging doors of the New York establishment blowing a cool gust of wind in their direction.

They merely laughed at the minor interruption, their teeth clashing as they both smiled momentarily. It was soon forgotten, though, both of them having much more pressing matters in their minds.

They only came to a cease in the elevator, some old couple who most definitely did not care about whatever pressing issue the two of them felt they had, standing off to the side. (Y/n could swear she saw the older woman smirk and wink at her, to which she cocked her head and smiled.)

Once back into the safe confines of Y/n’s suite, they resumed like they had never even stopped, hands gravitating towards the others form as if they were opposite magnets, unable to be separated for too long.

“You’ve driven me crazy, you know that, right? “

She giggled and bit her lip, looking up into his eyes, their foreheads pressed together.

“Mmm? I’d hope so.”

He pulled away, shaking his head, blond locks following suit.

“Really, you have no idea. I haven’t been able to shake you from my head. You’re everywhere.”

Her excitement could barely be contained at his confession of sorts, chest heaving, trying to stay calm.

“Yeah, that was the plan.”

Roger shook his head with a dry chuckle, looking to his feet and back to her when she had tilted his head up, her finger resting on his jaw.

“Well, are you into it?” She questioned, grabbing his hand and pulling their clasped fingers in between their chests, her eyes hazy with hope.

“Yeah.” He titled his head, feigning a pondering look. “You could say I’m kinda into it.”

“Shut it!”

“Make me.”

She rolled her eyes at his stupidly provocative suggestion, and he only laughed, the two of them falling onto the plush comfort of the bed in a meshed flurry for the remainder of the night.

And if you couldn’t guess what could have possibly happened next, the black dress ended up in a pooled up pile next to the bed that night, right next to the heels that finally she had the pleasure of discarding.

The next morning, it was unlike the one 6 years ago, as when Roger woke up, he was overjoyed to find a sleeping Y/n, laying on his chest with hair splayed around her. And he had to say, he usually wasn’t much of a cuddler, but for some reason he felt so incredibly endeared, that anything else wouldn’t have sufficed.

He ran small circles on the exposed skin of her bare shoulder, the comforter concealing the rest of her limbs that were tangled up with Roger’s.

When she stirred, Roger sat up, fondly watching as her eyes fluttered open and her tongue ran across her dried lips, still carrying a hint of last night's red pigment. She looked next to her, her eyeline matching up with the covered skin of Roger’s lap.

She sighed, shifting her head to rest on his thighs as her feet dangled off of the bed. One of Roger’s hands came up to softly massage the top of her head, the other against the headboard, behind his neck. She stared at the ceiling, an unreadable expression creeping its way to her features.

“We were jacked up last night.” Roger’s voice cut through the silence they shared, deeper in the late morning than she had heard before.

“Correction, you were jacked up.”

“Whatever.”

They laughed, silence soon taking over once again. Roger sighed, closing his ever tired eyes.

“Are we gonna pay for this?”

She scoffed, inhaling deeply before reaching over to the nightstand, grabbing her carton of cigarettes. He noticed they were the same brand from college, a small smile making its way to his face at the thought.

She first lit hers, then lighting a second one for the man occupying her king sized bed (though she wasn’t even slightly upset by this, quite the opposite). She handed it to him, sticking her own between her lips and sitting up, straddling where her head had been minutes before.

She leaned forward, so close their noses were to the point where they were nearly touching. She took the cigarette from her lips, blowing the smoke to the left of Rog in the direction of the large balcony overlooking Times Square. She turned her attention back to him, though it had never really left, tilting her head.

“Do you regret it?”

“No.” The answer came immediately, no careful consideration or pondering needed.

“Right.” She removed herself from him, standing and taking the sheet with her, letting it cover her like a renaissance dress. She walked over to the balcony, leaning against the frame of the double doors. She took another drag, an adoring smile spreading across her face.

“Then there’s your answer.”

She paused, Roger tilted his head, his brows lifting.

“Of course we will.”

✺🎬✺

if u liked that hot mess pls like and rb!! mwah ily go eat protein and drink water if ur able. xx hj

[fellcharas]

my deltarune theory(ies?)

DISCLAIMER: i am not an actual theorist and i wrote this all from memory! this is taking into consideration the possibility that chara is involved in the making of deltarune (1, 2) as well as other widely believed theories (gaster being involved)

putting a read more because this shit is LONG so buckle up

start with the basics?

something i was thinking about last night is how it’s interesting that we don’t know very much about susie’s home life or her reason for being “the bully.” while there are certainly hints that point to it not being great at all, there’s nothing directly confirming what it’s like.

however something that many people have pointed out is that through the numerous odd similarities deltarune and undertale have, there is the clam girl. for those who don’t know, clam girl is a NPC that you encounter if your game’s fun value is between 80 and 89 and you’re not playing a no mercy route. she talks of her neighbor’s daughter, suzy, and tells frisk that they should become friends with her. but she notes the fact that frisk would have no idea where suzy is yet fate will find a way for them to meet.

in the true pacifist epilogue of undertale with a fun value of 81, clam girl explains that the time frisk (or we, the players) will meet suzy is “fast approaching.” this specific term is yellow in text and her sprite becomes grayscale. then she abruptly vanishes, the noise as she does so being the same noise used for the mystery man and gaster follower 2 sprites when interacting with them. interestingly, her grayscale sprite is “spr_clam_goner”, not much different than goner kid. this dialogue was also added right before the release of deltarune.

so... who is suzy? while it is possible that suzy could just be susie with a different name for undertale’s sake, it’s also possible that suzy could be susie’s sister, likely younger. catty, returning from undertale, has a little sister in deltarune named catti. there isn’t much significance that i could add that would make it likely suzy is susie’s little sister other than this, but i felt it was worth mentioning so do with it what you will.

so... what else?

after interacting with clam girl, if you do the work necessary to access sans’ basement (or “lab”), you’ll be able to find a description of a photo inside one of the drawers that points out there are “three smiling people” with the text “don’t forget” written on it. this has been pointed out several times before due to the fact “don’t forget” is the deltarune song that plays at the end of ch1 (and ch2 although remixed?). if i recall correctly there is no other way of finding this flavor text except for interacting with clam girl. interesting.

lots of people believe that the covered machine in sans’ lab is a time machine. with sans’ many connections to gaster, it’s also possible that this could be a machine gaster made and had broken. it is said to be unfixable.

gaster is confirmed to have created the core. but i don’t believe this is what he fell into. it’s never specified what he fell into, just that it was his creation. so i believe that gaster fell into the time machine. and by taking entry number 17 into account, we are met with the possibility that the time machine might involve a black hole. fortunately for you guys black holes is a special interest of mine, so i can explain this easily.

basically, the anatomy of a black hole, or the structure, consists of the following:

event horizon

singularity

photon sphere

ergosphere

the event horizon of a black hole is the shadowy dark sphere that we see in images. it is a boundary in spacetime where gravity is so strong that nothing, not even light, can escape. once having crossed the event horizon, the nature of spacetime begins to deform, causing space’s usual three dimensions (length, width, height) to form only one dimension (movement forward) and time’s usual one dimension (into the future) to form three dimensions (past, present, and future). spacetime is what makes up our reality. remember this. and, as predicted by einstein’s theory of general relativity, mass bends spacetime (imagine our universe as a flat plane, and the mass of our earth causes a dip in the space underneath it), so a black hole’s mass warps spacetime so strongly that any direction you try to go in once having crossed the event horizon will lead you to the singularity. (at least... for a non-rotating, non-charged black hole.)

the singularity is a gravitational singularity, a region that may lie at the center of a black hole wherein the curvature/deformation of spacetime becomes infinite. because all black holes spin (due to their last moments as stars involving very fast rotational speeds), the singularity in a rotating black hole’s mathematics smears out to form a ring singularity (ringularity) that lies in the plane of rotation. in this case (as well as the case of a non-rotating black hole), the region has zero volume. and because of all of the black hole’s mass being held in this region, the singularity can be thought of as having infinite density. within a rotating black hole it is possible to avoid the singularity, and extending this solution as far as possible reveals the hypothetical possibility of exiting the black hole into a different spacetime (region of reality) with the black hole acting as a wormhole.

the photon sphere is a spherical boundary of zero thickness in which photons (elementary, electromagnetic radiation particles, associated with light) that move on tangents (the tangent line to a plane curve at a given point is the straight line that "just touches" the curve at that point) to that sphere would be trapped in a circular orbit about the black hole. while light can still escape from the photon sphere, any light that crosses the photon sphere on an inbound trajectory will be captured by the black hole.

lastly, the ergosphere is a region of spacetime found in rotating black holes in which it is impossible to stand still. basically, it’s like a whirlpool, and any object near the black hole will tend to start moving in the direction of rotation.

okay, so... what does this have to do with entry number 17?

WELL, here’s the dialogue from entry number 17. i’ll bold the key parts that i feel tie the possibility of this being a time machine to the time machine involving a black hole:

ENTRY NUMBER SEVENTEEN DARK DARKER YET DARKER THE DARKNESS KEEPS GROWING THE SHADOWS CUTTING DEEPER PHOTON READINGS NEGATIVE THIS NEXT EXPERIMENT SEEMS VERY VERY INTERESTING ... WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK

as you can probably tell by now, it’s possible that this description of growing darkness, no photons, is similar to that of what a black hole is like.

but why would gaster create a black hole as part of a time machine? well, my idea is that he didn’t mean to do so. he likely concentrated enough energy or mass that caused a black hole to accidentally form. this black hole would have been small in diameter, thus having an incredibly short lifespan, its evaporation being violent. this would have broken the machine entirely. however, for the sake of undertale being a video game, it’s understandable why sans (and possibly papyrus or alphys) would be okay and why the machine is still relatively in tact.

it’s unclear to me why gaster would want to make a time machine. because time travel in the sci-fi sense (involving the grandfather paradox) is likely impossible without breaking the fabric of our reality, this could also be explained for why it went so horribly wrong for gaster. and - fun fact - once you cross the event horizon, you are lost to the universe forever. every particle you are made of, every little bit of energy you hold within your existence, is lost to the outside universe. forever. this is called the black hole information paradox. however, realistically, those who are outside of the black hole will still remember you, but in gaster’s sense... i don’t think this is what happened.

it’s possible that gaster managed to avoid the singularity, if the black hole he crossed was rotational. however, because he couldn’t leave the black hole, he could have traveled to different points in spacetime. this is why he was shattered across time and space as his followers describe, because undertale confirms that within its world, this possible existence of a black hole allows for wormholes to exist.

but... but wait. no, no, no. we can’t think of undertale as space-time. why? because sans himself confirms that the continuum of undertale’s reality is a time-space continuum. he puts time before space, which could be intentional and thus swapping their roles. within undertale this means that time is 3-dimensional, explaining the existence of save points and the ability to reset and load. space, on the other hand, is 1-dimensional, meaning you can only ever go one way which is to the end of the game. even if you load previous save files, you’ll still end up finished.

so if gaster was shattered across time and space, it’s possible that he was also shattered beyond. it’s believed that he had some sense of awareness, that he found out he was in a game with multiple different timelines, thus starting his “experiment.” he created the blueprints for the determination extraction machine, and because it’s also widely believed that he and chara were in cahoots with each other, maybe gaster wanted to extract some of chara’s determination and make something for himself. and maybe he succeeded in some way, not by extracting chara’s but by making his own somehow. it’s unknown right now to me. (though if he acquired determination somehow, that would make sense if the mysteryman sprite was him, considering the weird markings or drippy things on his face as well as the general blob-like look.)

so this implies that deltarune’s reality is a time-space continuum as well?

yes. gaster was smart, brilliant even, but it’s likely he didn’t know much beyond the nature of his own reality. when creating deltarune he made the reality of its universe something similar to undertale’s, with 3-dimensional time and 1-dimensional space. if gaster had the determination or something more, enough to persist even as a remnant of a shattered being outside his own reality, then this makes sense as to how he’d be able to create deltarune. if he’s forgotten to everyone within the world of undertale, and (in some abstract way for the sake of kris, jevil, spamton and possibly others) known to nobody in deltarune, yet he created deltarune, he isn’t dead. he’s something else. he’s a god.

and this is why chara is in cahoots with him, even now.

see, chara has determination. they didn’t fall into the underground intentionally; they tripped (1, 2). given these facts and theories it’s likely that chara had determination, or hope, the ability to persevere and keep going no matter what. chara had a red soul like frisk’s, which is what made their essence attach to frisk’s body. that’s why they are tethered to us via name and stats and narration. and as we all know, the red soul symbolizes determination. power.

but while chara is very much their own person, they are still what their name was meant to imply: a character. chara reflects the will of the player; they are not the player theirself, they are their own person, but due to their attachment to frisk (and by extension, us) they act as a mirror for what we do in undertale. and sadly for them, gaster is much more powerful due to his circumstances. gaster is more like us than chara is.

and given deltarune’s theme of nobody’s choices mattering, nobody having any real control over what they do or say, if we take into consideration the fact that chara speaks in the no mercy route about destroying "this" world and "moving onto the next" and asking "when were [we] the one in control", then it’s clear that they have something to do with the theme of deltarune. chara has only ever wanted control, whether that be a good or bad thing is currently out if the question. they wanted control over their own life when they were alive in undertale, and now they want control over other people. anything they feel is a good thing for them to have control over, they will reach for it.

the gonermaker sequence in chapter 1 is abruptly cut off by someone who speaks VERY similarly to chara, in contrast to the person from before who we all agree is gaster (in both japanese and english, it is very chara-esque way of speaking). now, why is this called the gonermaker? my guess is because chara has been discarding all these vessels, making gaster’s experiment much more difficult to start off and get going.

all the gaster followers from undertale, including goner clam girl and goner kid, show up in deltarune. they are fully colored sprites. the only goner character who doesn’t show up in deltarune is the one WE create in chapter 1′s beginning sequence. and i think that’s because they are set up to reappear, at some point in one of deltarune’s future chapters.

so, chara has been discarding all of the vessels, all the followers, all the now-goners because they know that these people will never have control over their lives. as long as they are shallow vessels meant to worship and serve our (the players’) and gaster’s desires (to play a game and experiment, thereby affecting an entire world/universe), they have no autonomy over themselves. and this resonates with chara for a multitude of reasons we can tie back to undertale. they state that "no one can choose who they are in this world," because it’s true. no one can choose who they are. not in a world dominated by gods like us and gaster. and that’s why chara discards these vessels and characters who were probably once their own real persons, as a means of sparing them from what they lacked for theirself: control. and no matter what, even if chara didn’t interrupt, we would have still ended up as kris because again No One Can Choose Who They Are In This World. chara was making gaster’s sick joke plain and simple for us, that it applies to us in some way too.

so then... what’s the deal with spamton and jevil? 

well, i think they are people who encountered gaster (this is widely believed anyway) and convinced themselves that they were significant for this knowledge that they are in a game, knowledge gaster told them of, driving them both insane and robbing them of who they were meant to be. and because nobody can choose who they are in deltarune, when they try to break free nothing changes or has a happy outcome, because it’s sadly just not possible to change your fate in deltarune.

this presumably-fact becomes clearer with spamton, though. and that’s why kris becomes so afraid, both at the end of spamton neo’s pacifist battle and his snowgrave battle. because kris can’t choose who they are, either. kris is like spamton, a puppet. a heart on a chain. they don’t have full control over who they are and trying to break free only hurts them more, as we see whenever they tear their soul out of their body and disable our input. but, maybe it’ll be different for kris, because they ARE the protagonist. but right now it feels like they’ve given up on the idea of having control over theirself. the only rebelling they do is work to open a dark fountain, thereby continuing the story of deltarune and, really, only helping us more in terms of playing the game.

and i mean, it’s also obvious that gaster holds influence over kris, too, considering the weird hidden encounters where you interact with something and see a man smiling or waving at you or giving you an egg. and this egg doesn’t change into a ball of trash like every other dark world item once you return to the light world. it stays the same. i can’t really remember the significance of eggs when it comes to gaster other than his whole existence being left as an Easter Egg but i do know that on the date with papyrus in undertale, there’s an egg on the side with the dating hub so, whether that’s there for funny points or lore is unknown, but interesting too.

i also want to say that i don’t think gaster and chara are being pitted against each other in terms of "these are 2 different types of gamers." while that would make sense simplistically, i feel like toby would be much more in depth and nuanced with it, as he usually is with his method of storytelling. because even though chara is kind of god-like, considering their death in undertale and their soul being the same as ours, leading to them being attached to us like some kind of angel (and angels have lots of significance in both undertale and deltarune), they’re still only a character and not at all on the level that gaster is.

i personally think gaster and chara are, on a more hidden level because toby isn’t being very direct at all with these two, meant to represent a different side of the "player vs character" perspective. and that’s something that undertale and deltarune have both tried to convey to us in the no mercy and snowgrave routes, but unfortunately in undertale’s case it was widely misinterpreted in both ways. i think it’s a bit more sensible to go about it this way, because gaster is not us, as in we don’t control him like we can other characters, and the symbolism of what he’s meant to represent is there.

ok, one last question: how did chara access wherever gaster’s in?

that part is still very foggy. i can’t come up with a definite reasoning, but for now i’ll take a wild guess and say that maybe chara grew tired of being a ghost with no real autonomy. maybe they decided they wanted to break free for theirself, and by doing this their essence became detached from frisk’s body (and by extension our control), thus causing them to be shattered similarly to gaster or winding up in the void gaster has. however that happened.

there’s a lot of uncanny resemblance between chara and kris, though, especially if this is the case. chara breaks free and winds up in the void with gaster, and kris realizes that breaking free for theirself may not be all that they think it’s meant to be. given spamton neo and all. aside from the fact that chara and kris look similar, have the same family (though in different universes of course), and strangely both have a sweet tooth, this is especially odd to me.

i can’t quite put it into words, but it feels like, to me at least, chara is very much present in the world of deltarune. and they share similarities with kris that are hard to ignore.

so that’s it, then.

for the most part... yes. a lot of the theories i’ve linked here and there explain things i agree with, so you can read them as you see fit. i especially recommend nochocolate’s posts on chara if you’re interested, such as the ambiguity of freedom in undertale (and, though this was never mentioned in their post, by extension now deltarune).

but. there is one character that seems to be involved in some (or a lot) of this. and that’s papyrus. the only problem is, i can’t figure out what’s going on.

at first glance papyrus is just a very charming guy. but you know, he’s actually a lot more mysterious than sans. he shares similarities to chara and flowey/asriel, and holds weird possible connections to gaster. he’s also the only major character from undertale (aside from asriel) who hasn’t made a physical appearance in deltarune. while checking sans and papyrus’ house will have you met with narration describing “a distant trousle of bones”, it’s worth noting that in chapter 2 it’s described as getting farther and farther away. so... why? is this world’s papyrus just shy, or is there a deeper reason?

again, i can’t tell what’s going on with papyrus, if there even is anything at all. but there’s a lot of weird and mysterious little oddities involving him that i don’t think are unintentional or accidental.

anyways... there. hoo boy. that’s my theory. or theories. i don’t really know. like i said, i’m not a theorist, i don’t know everything and i don’t expect any of this to be true. it’s just what makes sense to me. and it’s important that if you believe this, you also recognize that toby is the creator and he does what he thinks is best when it comes to the story of deltarune and the possible connections it has to undertale (even though toby’s said that the two have no connections, it’s not uncommon for him to be untruthful about things).

if you read all of this... thanks! let me know your thoughts!

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 5.3

"Oh? I didn't realize I would have visitors today," a mysterious blonde entered the cave, and you tensed despite the pain shooting through your shoulder.

"Oh, hey Albedo!" Paimon greeted in a cheerful voice.

"Aether, may I inquire to the reasons you've stopped by?  I don't recall sending for you recently."  Albedo set his bag on the table and unloaded it's contents haphazardly. He handled his drawings with care, unlike the rest of the vials and glasses of unknown substances.

"We were running from the Fatui," he scratched his head and avoided the alchemist's knowing smirk.

"I'm not even surprised at this point.  Why, you seem to have a honing instinct when it comes to--" His eyes landed on your bloody shoulder.  "--them.  Are you alright, Miss?"

"Me?"  It was a stupid response considering you were the only girl in the room, but his sudden shift in attention threw you off.  "U-uh, yeah.  Bennett patched me up."

"Hi, Albedo!"  Bennett waved excitedly at the familiar Mondstatian.

Albedo returned with a nod, and walked towards you.  "If you don't mind, I would like to take a look at your injury."

"Oka--Ow!"  You bit your tongue when he quickly placed a hand against your injured arm without exercising much caution.  Xiao took a step toward him in response.  

"Apologies." Albedo removed his hand and caught the sudden amber glow that enveloped your eyes, and leaned forward to inspect them.  His supposed guilt for agitating your wound was instantly transformed into curiosity.

H-he's really close, you found yourself leaning backwards to ensure a safe distance from his face.

"That's peculiar," he commented, seemingly more interested in your glowing eyes than your injury now.  "I haven't seen anything like this before.  May I run some tests?"

"What kind of tests?"  Xiao's protectiveness took over and he hid you behind him.  First the Fatui, and now this stranger?  Just how many people were after the two of you?

"Don't worry, he's safe," Paimon teased the concerned yaksha and immediately earned a glare from him.

"For the most part," Bennett and Aether finished under their breaths and made nervous eye contact.

"A simple experiment for the sake of science," Albedo stood and gathered a few cotton swabs from one of the cabinets, then a small needle.  He carefully sanitized it before returning to you.  "Are you also like Aether?"  He only referred to the otherworldliness of the traveler.

"No, I'm from Teyvat."  You watched him as he placed swiped a cotton swab against the drying blood on your shoulder.  He in turn watched for a reaction in your eyes, but found nothing.  He repeated the same procedure, this time closer to your pulsating stitches.  Your muscles tensed at the faint dull pain.  A faint glow emanated in your irises and even though it was barely noticeable he still managed to catch it.

"I see," he nodded to your answer and placed the swabs in separate vials.  Then, while you were still focused on his face, grabbed the small needle.  He turned to face you again.  "How long have your eyes been doing that?"

"Not that long," you caught Xiao's silent warning of 'do not speak of this' out of the corner of your eye.  "Er, I don't know."

Albedo also glanced in the direction of the man that was so obviously overprotective of you and realized the two of you had the exact same eye color.  He didn't say anything about that, though.  "I see."  He quickly pricked your shoulder with the needle when you had your guard down, and you almost backhanded him out of pure instinct.

"Ow!"  You glared at him, and annoyance bubbled inside you when he smiled back in both satisfaction and awe.  

"Experiment one is complete."  He stood and made his way to the table with the three vials of cotton swabs.  Then he proceeded to pour separate liquids into each, shake them gently, and place them back down on the table.  He watched the mixtures settle.

"What do you mean, 'complete?'" You growled and dabbed the miniscule blood off of your skin.

"Your eyes glow in response to pain," he stated simply as he eyed the vials.  "A strange reaction that is tied to a human's fight-or-flight response.  I wonder what else they react to."  Once the mixtures settled, he inspected them with the utmost attention.  He wrote his notes down on a sheet of paper.

"Well?"  Aether joined him at the table.

"May I take a sample from you as well?"  Albedo immediately turned to Xiao, who stood to your left.

"No."  I don't like this at all.  His eyes downcast to you, conflicted.

"Alright, then.  Do your eyes also glow?"

"No."

Albedo looked to you for confirmation, and you shook your head.  Hm, perhaps it is just a coincidence that they have the same eyes, then.  He returned his gaze to the samples.  "What strange results," he murmured to himself.  "You say you are human, yet your blood..."  It isn't like mine or Aether's DNA, either.  What biological component resides within you, I wonder?  "I cannot say for certain what is within you without conducting more experiments, but seeing as though you are running from Fatui, I suppose I'll have to wait for a more opportune time.  Please, return while you have a spare moment."

......................................................

"Your cover was blown?"  Signora raised a brow at her fellow harbinger.  "How did you manage that, Childe?"

"The target managed to convince the others that I'm being dishonest with my intentions.  I can't continue with them further," he lied through his teeth.  While it didn't play out as he had intended, it most definitely resulted in the rest of the adventure team's knowledge of the Fatui's plans if they hadn't known already.

"The Tsaritsa approved my plans," the woman peered down over the balcony.  "Your failure to keep our operation a secret will not impact them, but be aware they'll come back to bite you later."

"There's one other thing.  She received a vision."

"A vision?"  This brought her gaze back to Childe.  "From who?"

"The Tsaritsa.  Was that part of the plan?"

"Not at all," her eyes narrowed in the direction of Snezhnaya.  "What was she--No, no matter.  The plan shall proceed.  A little birdie told me the target and her little posse will be staying here for the time being.  We'll strike tonight," Signora surveyed the City of Mondstat beneath her.

......................................

The adventure team entered Angel's share as the sun set behind the hills.  Bennett had gone to check on all his dads at the adventure guild.  The tavern was teeming with the chatter of loud drunkards, melodies of a lone bard near the entrance, and the clinking of glasses.  Oh, and the hiccups of an incredibly drunk young boy that sat at the bar.

"Ah, the delicious--hic-- wine of Mondstat never ceases to amaze me!"  The boy raised his glass in the air, nearly spilling it over the rim.  His red cheeks provided a striking contrast to his green clothing choice.

Diluc stood on the other end of the barrier with an unamused yet slightly impressed expression.  He noticed your team's entering, and let out an exasperated sigh.  "This is glass fifty-two.  It's been less than half an hour since he started."

"H-How is that possible?!"  You stammered in concern.  "And why is he allowed to drink? He's practically Bennett's age!"

"U-Uh, well you see,"  Paimon fidgeted.  "He has a very high alcohol tolerance!"

Noticing your still-confused expression, Aether leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I'll explain later."  The noise that floated around the room concealed his words from Venti.

"Need anything to drink? Non-alcoholic of course," Diluc's eyes scanned the group until they landed on Xiao.

"I don't drink."  The yaksha left the group to sit at a table in a secluded corner.

"Not very sociable today," Paimon mused.  

"You received a vision," Diluc caught the glint of the pendant hanging from your belt loop.  "Congratulations."

"Thank you!"  You watched as he excused himself to pour a customer another drink.

"Ah, Trav--hic--eler!  It's so good to see you again!"  The boy noticed Aether's presence and waved you all over.  

"Hey Venti," Aether greeted with a slightly nervous grin.  "Long time no see."

"Yes!  Are you old enough to try the--hic-- wine yet? Oh?" His eyes looked to you.  "Hello! Are you a friend of Aether's?  Why don't we all share a drink together?"

"Oh, I'm not twenty-one just yet," you declined, eyes flitting to Xiao.  "Excuse me."

You sat across from Xiao and struggled to come up with small talk. He had been quieter than usual ever since you showed your vision to the group.  "What's on your mind?"

It took several minutes of prodding for him to finally respond to you.  "What were you doing in the moments that led to you receiving the vision?"

"What was I doing?" You were taken aback, but not surprised that he was still cynical of the circumstances.  "Well..." I was trying to protect you.  You wanted to convey those words but were still embarrassed of your actions.  Maybe you didn't deserve a god's recognition for barging into danger like it was normal.  A glum expression took over your face as you slumped in your seat.  You glanced up at him, only to find his cheeks slightly tinged red and that he was avoiding your eyes.  "What?"

"You really are one of the incompetent ones," he grumbled loud enough for you to hear.  

That's when you remembered he could hear every single prayer and wish about him.  It was your turn to blush now.  "U-Uh...um.  I didn't mean any of that!"  

Xiao's eyes flicked to yours, completely unconvinced of your lie.  "Of course."  You hung your head in embarrassment.

"I--Uh," you stood from your seat.  "I'm going to get some air!"  You climbed the stairs to the balcony on the second floor and shut the door behind you.

The cool air of the early night seemed to wipe away the stench of alcohol that had already begun to cling to your clothes.  It was a peaceful evening, what with the bright stars that shone in the sky and the occasional drunk laughter that leaked from the balcony door into the open air.  You admired the constellations for awhile until you felt the air get colder and heard the creaking of a floorboard to your right.  

"Sh--You scared me!"  You let out a nervous laughter when you saw the woman rise from her balcony seat.  "Sorry, I thought I was the only one up here."

"It's easy to be caught off-guard when you're distracted," the woman's lips curled upward slightly.  She made her way toward you, and you could finally make out the details of her figure.

She's dressed a little too formal for a tavern, you noted, yet you still admired how pretty she was.  White hair tied into an updo, a flowing gown that showed off her bust, she was downright gorgeous.  Still, you couldn't help but shiver.  Why was the air so chilly all of a sudden?

"You're not from around here," the woman observed.  "What brings you to Mondstat?"

"I," you started feeling uncomfortable in this dark setting, but didn't want to be rude. "I'm just passing through.  And you?  You don't look like you're from Mondstat."  You crossed your arms to trap the remaining warmth from the tavern around your body.  This woman showed more skin than you, but she didn't appear bothered in the slightest.

"An excellent observation on your part."  She stopped once she was maybe two feet from you.  "We were also passing through.  Isn't that right, Childe?"

Your blood ran cold in an instant, and Signora watched your face pale with satisfaction.

"I think I like it better in Liyue if I'm being honest," the voice you didn't want to hear greeted from behind your ear.  When did he get so close?  "Ambition over freedom.  But nothing compares to the beauty of our homeland."

You spun on your heel and simultaneously began to manifest a polearm in your nondominant hand.  You weren't quick enough, and Childe caught your arm.  Your heartbeat rushed in your ears as time appeared to slow down.

"You're still injured," Childe flashed a proud smile at the sight of the wound he had given you.  "You can't fight."

"Xia--!"  You opened your mouth to scream, but a feminine hand covered your mouth and restrained you.  It all happened too quick for your mind to comprehend, and the next thing you knew, she opened a portal in midair and was dragging you towards it.  Xiao!  Help!

"Prepare yourself, Childe," Signora warned.

"It'd be my pleasure," he conjured his blades and faced the door right as it was kicked down with a powerful force.  Xiao and Aether burst through.

"Let her go!"  Aether charged at Childe, giving Xiao the chance to aim for Signora's head.

"Xiao!" You managed to pull Signora's hand off your mouth and stretched your arm out to him.

He pushed off the balcony towards you, and was instead greeted by the hollow night air.  He crashed into the ground and sprung to his feet again.  The portal had closed.  Childe was gone.

You were gone.

.......................

Up Next:  Darkness, a meeting with an archon, and a quartet of harbingers.

[pregnant-piggy]

World Tour

Sirius Black x reader, band AU

Words: 12k

Written for @slytherinquill​‘s writing challenge!

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write a band AU for so long now and here it is! I worked really hard on it and I so hope you like it!

Never in your whole life had you thought that you would get where you are right now; rushing through the airport with no one less than James Potter, the guitarist of the world famous band The Marauders.

You had been a fan of them for years, ever since they started. You watched them grow from little teenage boys doing covers on YouTube to the twenty-four year olds they were now, selling out arenas. The aforementioned James Potter and his electric guitar were a golden combination, Remus Lupin mastered the art of playing the bass, Peter Pettigrew never missed a single beat on the drums and then you had Sirius Black. Lead singer. He looked like how you would imagine one; thick, black hair, angelic bone structure, mysterious eyes and a voice like a child of the devil and an angel. To say that thousands of girls were just fan of him was an understatement.

Even you bore a little crush on him. But how could you not? The man was a god.

How you ever ended up in this situation was still vague to you. Not because you didn't know what had happened but because it all went so fast. Just a month ago you were still in your own apartment, plucking on your guitar, contemplating whether it was all worth it. You had been making music for years now and you had never had your big breakthrough. Though your friends and family told you that it would come and that you were a wonderful singer and your songs were amazing, you had been close to giving up. It was then that James reposted an Instagram video of you singing their song She's not mine and everything blew up. Your Instagram got a boost and the comments wouldn't stop. The Marauders' management hit you up, asked you to record a song with the men and a week later you were a big star.

The experience with the four men in the studio was something you had never done before. You wrote your songs in the safety of your bedroom, where all the failed ones never left. Now you suddenly had been surrounded by four professional artists plus another three songwriters. The song was written in three days, the title Don’t rush assigned to it, and recorded in two. The sixth day was a day for rest, that you had spent at Remus' house with him and Peter. You had gotten to know the men better. You had learned that James had an obvious crush on the manager's assistant, Lily, that Peter lived with his parents because he didn't see the need of buying a house when he was away all the time, that Remus had learned how to play the bass from his grandfather and pictures had shown that that man was the embodiment of rock'n'roll-grandfather, and that it was Sirius who had come up with the idea of starting a band.

The seventh day had been release day. The song came out at midnight and you had anxiously waited at home with your roommate, Tiffany, until it was time. She had been the biggest fan of the song at the first note and when your voice synchronised with Sirius' she had started to cry. She had kept on playing the song, while you got phone calls from your family and friends.

To promote the new song you and the boys had visited radio station after radio station. You had existed on coffee that day; you had promptly fallen asleep in your living room at three in the morning, while Tiffany was still gushing over your song and the fact that you had met The Marauders, and you had to be at the first studio at 6 AM. Coffee had been your saviour.

Interviews were something you had never done before, just like anything you had gone through that week. At the first radio stations, the boys had taken you under their wings, helping you with answers and pushing you in the right direction. Over the day you had learned how to act in interviews and how to laugh away questions, an useful skill you had noted as the interviewers had asked you about your personal life.

You had thought that that would be it. Or at least, that the song would be the end of your collaboration with The Marauders. They had explained to you that they were going on tour just three weeks later and that maybe they would invite you to one of their shows.

Of course you had been a bit sad to see it end there. In just that week you had grown to like those men a lot. You had spent a lot of time with them and your personalities matched. It was easy and fun to hang around with them.

So when the week was over and it had been time for you to get back to your normal life, that you thought would never be the same again, you had spent the first day home with Tiffany, telling her everything about your experience. You had stayed on the couch with her the whole day and fell asleep late at night, relaxing for the first time that week.

However you relaxation had not been long. The next morning you had gotten a call that had turned your life upside down and was the reason why you were at the airport now;

You were going on tour with The Marauders.

‘What took you so long?’ Remus asked, tilling his suitcase on the counter of the check-in desk.

You panted and bowed forward to catch your breath. James patted you on your back and brushed it lightly. ‘I lost my lock.’

‘You lost your lock?’ Remus said and he turned away from the lady behind the desk to see if James was serious.

The lady behind the counter watched the back of Remus’ head impatiently as this one burst into laughter and shook his head. Peter, who had noticed that the lady was looking rather grumpy and might have realised that she wouldn’t get any happier by the fact that there were more suitcases coming, pushed Remus back to the desk.

Meanwhile you had caught your breath and were standing straight up again. You pushed your suitcase behind Remus and stood next to him, waiting for him to finish with checking in his bags. ‘We lost it somewhere on our way and James wanted to get it back.’

‘How good a lock can it be if it fell off?’ Peter asked, raising his eyebrow so high that it disappeared behind his blond hair.

‘It wouldn’t have fallen off, if someone didn’t bump their suitcase into mine!’ James whined and he looked at you.

‘It was not my fault! You suddenly took a turn! What was I supposed to do? Jump over it?’ you asked sarcastically, sending James a smile.

It was your turn to check in and while you smiled at the grumpy lady, you apologised for making such a scene. She just shrugged and said nothing as she continued to weigh your suitcase and then pushed it to the space behind her desk, where the bags disappeared to be loaded into the airport. She handed you your boarding pass and then called for the next one.

- - - - - -

The air in the airplane was cold. You hid your hands in the sleeves of your sweater and wrapped your arms around your body. You were sitting next to the window and you looked outside. The plane had to take off yet, but you already felt the nerves rushing through your body like you always had when you were in plane. Not that it happened that often, but enough to recognise the feeling.

It was still early in the morning. The skies were just turning blue and there was dew on the windowpane. The first rays of sun broke through and the windows of the airport-building reflected the orange light.

You figured that this wouldn’t be the last time that you would be on a plane this early. Another city every day, or every two days, meant that you would be travelling a lot. But something about the cold and humid morning air was refreshing. The promise of another great day rose with the sun.

However, despite the fresh air and the rising sun, you were tired. You hadn’t slept a lot last night; Tiffany had thrown a little bon-voyage party and had invited your friends. Before the party you had had dinner with your parents. Your mother had cried tears of happiness as she had said goodbye and you just had hoped that was because she was happy for you. Your father had made you promise to him that you would be careful around the four men. You had laughed and told him that nothing would happen with them, but you had promised him, since you feared he wouldn’t let you go if you didn’t. The party Tiffany had thrown wasn’t big; just a few friends, but it had lasted till late at night and you had had to be at the airport at four o’clock.

Your sleep schedule was completely messed up and you feared that it wouldn’t go back to normal for a while.

The voice of the pilot sounded through the airplane and you were pulled from your thoughts. His calm voice soothed none of your nerves, instead only made them worse. You clasped the fabric of your sweater in your hands and took a deep breath as you closed your eyes.

‘If you’re scared of flying, we have a problem,’ James’ voice sounded next to you and you opened your eyes at him.

‘I am not scared of flying, don’t worry,’ you said, your voice quivering a bit. ‘I’m just nervous and excited for everything.’

‘I get that,’ James said, nodding his head. ‘I remember our first time going on tour. Remus knew the whole planning by heart and he took every opportunity to tell us it. Peter cried when he had to say goodbye to his parents; they’re very close you know?’

‘I heard,’ you said and James looked surprised at you. ‘He told me when I was at Remus’ a while back.’

‘Oh, right. Anyway, he cried and we did not hesitate to mock him about it. Poor guy had a terrible first day,’ James chuckled and his eyes glistened with mirth, ‘Sirius was nervous too, but he wouldn’t show it. To this day, he still thinks that we didn’t hear him whispering motivating words to himself before the show-’

‘I wasn’t!’

Sirius, who sat in front of you and James, turned around and looked at you through the space between the seats. You giggled and rested your hands on your thighs, not in your sides anymore.

‘You were!’ James cried out, while Sirius shook his head. ‘I clearly remember you telling yourself that you “could do it, because I am good”.’

Sirius opened his mouth and then closed it again. He shot James an angry glare and then turned back around in his seat, starting to talk to Remus. You looked at James and smiled. ‘What about you?’

‘Oh, I was nervous too. But I kept myself together quite well, if I say so myself.’

Remus and Sirius snorted in front of you and turned around in their seats. Their faces, as they looked at James like he had just told a joke, made you chuckle. James made sputtering sounds, but Remus cut him off before he could say anything.

‘He held my hand the entire flight and was so nervous for the first show that he forgot his lyrics in the first song.’

‘Remus!’                                                      

You laughed and nudged James playfully. ‘Come on, it’s funny! It could always be worse…’

‘What do you mean?’ James asked and Remus and Sirius looked curious at you. You shrugged and played with the sleeves of your sweater as you answered.

‘When I had my first performance, I threw up right before I had to go on stage. I had to play three songs while smelling like vomit.’

James and Sirius burst out into laughter and Remus shot you an apologetic look. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched James wipe away a tear from the corner of his eye. For a moment you had forgotten about the take-off and when you looked outside you realised that you were already in the sky. The airport was left behind and you watched the city get smaller and smaller with the seconds.

The little scene down on the earth had your attention until the plane flew into the clouds and you could see nothing but white. You turned back to James, who was watching a film on the little screen installed in the chair in front of him. He mouthed along the words of the protagonist as this one spoke.

You fished your earbuds out of your pocket and put on your music as you turned back to look outside. You pulled your knees up to your chest and closed your eyes for a second as the melody took over you.

Music always had a way to make you feel all the emotions at once. For you it wasn’t just a way to pass time, it was something so much bigger than that. Ever since you were young you had been singing. You had driven your parents crazy, though deep down they were happy to see you passionate about something at such a young age. Any music you could get your hands to, you would listen to. Your mother had dozens of records and you always asked her to play them. Often your brother had complained because he wanted to listen to different music than you. But with your angel eyes you could always win your parents for you.

Guitar lessons had seemed like the most logical thing for you. You had enjoyed learning the chords and soon you could play guitar better than your father, who had been trying to learn how to play for years then. At twelve you had started to write your own songs. Back then they were simple songs with simple lyrics about that one boy crush you had had. As you matured, so did your songs with you. More often they were about the things you felt and the darker periods in your life. Many times your mother had said that you had gift to turn emotions into words.

At the age of sixteen you had recorded your first cover. You had posted it on your Instagram account and then the anxious waiting had begun. A week it had been before someone had commented saying that you had a great voice and that they wouldn’t be surprised to hear more of you. You had been euphoric. After a month you had ten comments, all good ones.  The second video you posted was a cover of a song of The Marauders; Lies are fine. It was, at the time, your favourite song of them and to this day the song held a special place in your heart. Again you got some good comments, but for the first time in your life, you had read that someone didn’t like your voice. Now you were quite good at handling hate, but back then it had been enough to break you down. For a month you hadn’t sung and your friends had to show you all the good reactions for you to realise that it was just one opinion.

Ever since you had started to sing your own songs, you had felt liberated in a way. It was easier to sing your own words than someone else’s. The hate had gone on, of course it had, but you had built a wall in front of it. Only a few times something had broken the wall down and then it was patched up quickly again.

You had grown strong over the years and music had formed your life.

- - - - - -

The first place was New York. Management had wanted to start the tour with a big show. Two nights the band would perform at Madison Square Garden. The venue had been booked full both nights. There was not a single place left.

There was one day to install yourself in the city and to get used to the big stadium. You arrived in the city just as it was waking up. Cars were already driving like maniacs over the busy streets and you feared for your life as you looked out of the window of the van you were sitting in. Cars drove by fast and close. The so typical yellow cabs were the worst; driving almost straight into the sidewalk to stop for people and then racing away as soon as the passenger had taken their seat.

The driver of your van wasn’t much different either. He took sharp corners and only stopped abruptly for red lights. With ever turn he took you were pushed out of your seat, one time against the window, the other time against Sirius, who was sitting next to you.

As the driver took another turn, you shifted so you were practically in Sirius’ lap. You placed your hand on his leg not to fall over and his hands caught you.

‘Watch out, darling,’ he smirked when you pushed yourself back to your seat.

‘It’s not my fault that guy drives like he’s got a death wish,’ you grumbled and pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. Sirius laughed and shook his head as he watched you shoot an angry glare at the driver’s head.

‘So got any plans for today?’ you asked, turning your gaze away from the man and looking at Sirius. ‘Other than checking out the venue?’

‘Not really,’ Sirius shrugged. ‘Why, do you got plans?’

‘My plan is to drop dead on my bed and sleep for the rest of the day,’ you said. ‘Care to join me?’

‘I don’t think there would be much sleeping when I’m in bed with you,’ Sirius smirked. ‘There’s no way you can resist me.’

You laughed and shook your head. ‘I don’t know, I seem to be doing fine now.’

‘That’s only what you think, darling. Deep down you’re burning with desire.’

‘Huh, so it seems…’

It was like this with all Sirius’ jokes around you. The flirtatious tone, winks, nicknames. You knew he was only kidding, but still the jokes made you get hot on the inside and a little flustered. You tried to comment back on him, but that didn’t work all times.

The van stopped at the hotel and the driver, much to your surprise, as you had thought that he would drive off the second you stepped out of the vehicle, took your suitcases from the back of the car.

Together with the boys you stepped into the luxurious hotel. The floors were white marble stones and on the ceilings hung golden chandeliers with crystals that sparkled in the sunlight that came through the big window at the front of the building.

It was a surprise to you how the hotel wasn’t loaded with fans yet. From what you had always heard, fans would find out where artist were staying before even they knew. But there was no one on the streets and not one of the people in the lobby looked up when your group walked in.

Your footsteps echoed in the silent hall. You felt utterly underdressed in your sweater and black jeans as you looked around you and saw women in neat dresses and men in suits. You tried to fix your hair, which you feared was peeking out on all sides. Your fingers untangled a tiny knot while you listened to the manager talk to the receptionist.

‘Alright, your rooms are on the fifth floor. Two to six. Tonight we’ll go to the venue but I’ll text you the details,’ the manager said and handed you, Sirius, Peter, James and Remus a room key.

Your room was number six, on the corner of the building so you had windows on two sides. It was by far the most luxe hotel room you had ever stayed in and you were a little disappointed you would only stay here for three days. Though it wasn’t a massive room –it only existed of a bathroom and a bedroom with a small corner where a big chair stood –it looked like everything, from the rug on the floor to the paintings on the walls, was more expensive than your apartment.

You opened the curtains in front of the windows that lead to your balcony, that was connected to the balconies of the others, and the light washed over the room. It was only ten in the morning, but sleep took over you as soon as your head hit the pillow. You didn’t even change; all you had done was take off your shoes.

- - - - - -

Anxiously you sat in the dressing room, staring at yourself in the big mirror that covered one side of the wall above the dressing tables. The round, yellow light bulbs that surrounded the mirror were reflected in your eyes.

You were nervous. More nervous than you thought you would be. The silence in the room only added to your anxiety. The boys had been called away for a moment, to take a last view of the stage before the stadium filled with fans.

Your phone lied open on the sofa next to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone through Twitter, but you just couldn’t resist. There were a lot of people wishing you good luck, but you also saw some tweets saying that taking you with The Marauders on tour was the worse decision they had ever made. Doubts had started to play in your head and now it was all you could think about in that silent room.

Luckily the silence was broken when your phone started to ring. Scaring up from the sound you almost fell of the couch as you looked around the room to see what it was. Quickly you noticed your phone and a feeling of relieve washed over you as you read your roommates name on the screen.

‘Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU AT THE VENUE YET? ARE THEY THERE?!’ Tiffany yelled through the phone before you could even say hi to her.

‘Nice to talk to you too, Tif,’ you laughed. ‘I am at the venue actually. The show’s in two hours.’

‘I know, I wanted to talk to you before all the madness begins. How are you holding up?’

‘Nervous. What if I mess up? What if I forget the lyrics? What if I do something embarrassing on stage? There are so many people who will see it.’

‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ Tiffany said. ‘You have had performances before and the guys wouldn’t have asked you if they didn’t think you were any good.’

You sighed and smiled to your phone, though Tiffany couldn’t see it. You asked about home and while Tiffany started to tell you about your friends, you heard some noises coming from the hall. Not two seconds later, the door of the dressing room burst open and a laughing James and Sirius entered, followed by Peter and Remus, who had a smile on their face, but weren’t as much laughing as their two friends.

You took one glance at them and then turned back to your phone, catching Tiffany’s last words. ‘…so now I have to visit her parents, while she is away with Jason. Can you believe it?’

‘What can I say, I always thought she was weird,’ you answered and only now the boys seemed to notice you were on the phone. They silenced and watched you as you awkwardly continued to talk to Tiffany. ‘Just be careful around her, okay? I don’t want to see you all caught up in her things, when she is out having fun. You’re better than that.’

‘I know,’ Tiffany sighed and then there was a silence. ‘Well, call me tomorrow, okay? I want to hear everything!’

‘I will. Goodbye, I love you,’ you said and put down your phone after Tiffany had said her goodbyes too.

The four men were looking at you expectantly, but you ignored their looks and walked to the corner of the room, where a little fridge stood, to grab a bottle of water. You felt their eyes pricking in your back and when you turned around you were met with four staring gazes. You suppressed a smile and sat back down on the couch, next to Sirius.

‘So, everything settled for later?’ you asked, taking a sip from your water.

You met Remus’ eye and he noticed you were teasing them. Everything about their faces told you that they wanted to know who you just told ‘I love you’ to, but you wouldn’t give in so easily. Remus shot you a smile and then started to talk about the stage, taking the other three’s attention of the cause for a while.

It was only an hour later, as James, Peter and Remus were out checking their instruments, the subject of your phone call came back. You were walking up and down in the room and Sirius was lying on the couch, his eyes focused on his phone. You were softly rehearsing your text one more time, as the nerves were making their way up to your throat now. You feared that if you didn’t find a way to calm down soon, you would not even be able to sing.

‘Who was that on the phone?’ Sirius asked out of nowhere, startling you in your walking.

‘Why?’ you asked, tilting your head to the side.

‘Just curious who the subject of your love interest is.’

‘Don’t be jealous, you know you’re the only one,’ you smirked and grabbed an empty water bottle. Your fingers played with the label on it for a few seconds and then you threw it away.

‘No boyfriend then?’ Sirius asked and you stared at him for a minute before you shook your head. ‘Come sit,’ Sirius ordered while he pushed himself up from the couch and patted the empty space next to him. Hesitantly you sat down next to him. ‘I won’t bite,’ Sirius laughed. ‘Unless you’re into that of course.’

You blushed and shook your head, not able to keep the scoff inside your mouth. Staring at your hands you took a deep breath. Sirius’ gaze was focused on the side of your face and when you breathed out he placed a hand on your back, rubbing it lightly. You felt butterflies fly up in your stomach and you closed your eyes for a second.

‘You don’t have to be nervous, darling. You have a beautiful voice, you fit really well with the group and not to mention you’re gorgeous,’ Sirius said and his hand kept still on your back. The blood rushed to your cheeks and you smiled, looking up to Sirius as you opened your eyes again.

‘Thank you,’ you whispered.

‘And if that doesn’t help, you can always imagine everyone naked. That helps in all situations,’ Sirius added with a wink, his eyes gliding over your body for a second.

‘I’m going to strangle you,’ you said with a laugh, pushing Sirius away from you.

‘Is that a threat or a promise? Stop confusing me,’ Sirius said, his smirk evident on his face. You got up from the couch and walked to the door, swaying your hips exaggerated and throwing your hair over your shoulder as you looked back at him. His eyes were focused on your bum and you smirked as you stepped through the door.

‘Whatever you want it to be, dear,’ you said before disappearing and your smile grew at hearing Sirius sigh as his body hit the cushions of the couch.

- - - - - -

The crowd was cheering and yelling as The Marauders played a song from their newest album, Disaster. You mouthed along the words while you stood backstage, watching the band play from the side. They performed with such a passion and love for their music that you couldn’t but smile. You had seen their performances countless of times online and you had been at a show once, but that was four years ago. In those four years they had grown from teenage boys to men. Their style had matured with them, but still their music had something that had been there from the start; passion.

‘You’re up next,’ the stage manager told you and pushed you to the stairs that lead to the stage. You wrapped your hands around your waist and took in a deep breath. Someone pushed a microphone in your hand and pushed you even closer to the stairs, so you were almost standing on them now.

‘Our next song is one we’re particularly proud of,’ Remus said and from your place you could see James trying to calm the crowd down a little. ‘It’s something we have worked hard and specially fast on.’

The crowd eased a little and you felt your heart beating in your chest. This was it; the moment you had been waiting for ever since you started writing music. A big stadium filled with people who wanted to listen to your song.

‘Please welcome to the stage the lovely Y/N!’

With fierce steps you climbed the stairs. The view that came to your sight as you took your place next to Sirius was something that you already knew nothing in your life could top. Thousands of people cheered, yelled and screamed your name. There were lights from phones and cameras everywhere and you were blinded as a spotlight was placed on you.

Anxiously you turned to Sirius, who was standing next to you and he gave you a smile and a wink. You relaxed and even dared to smile at the crowd in front of you. You could hear the screaming of hundreds of girls somewhere in the section closest to the stage and you chuckled lightly, remembering what it was like to stand there and be so close to your favourite band.

‘You ready?’ Sirius mouthed at you and when you nodded he looked at Peter over his head, who started to tick his drumsticks to the beat of the song. The bass joined in and you forgot about the crowd as the tunes of the song you had worked so hard on the past month filled the stadium.

‘Don’t you think about me tonight

I’ll still be there in the morning

In the sunrise we’ll reunite

Our heads empty and dark inside’

Every last nerve that you had disappeared as the first words left your mouth. At the first verse, the crowd was totally silent, never having heard you live before. But when you sang the last word of the verse, they burst loose and the screaming filled your arms, likely to be remembered for a lifetime.

As you looked at the people in front of you, you realised why singers loved touring so much. The adrenalin that filled your body before now had turned into excitement and utter happiness as you heard all the people sing along with you. The words left your mouth without thinking and you interacted with Sirius as if you had been doing so your entire life. His grey eyes were what you were focused mostly on as you sang the words of the chorus together, your voices synchronising in a way no one had ever heard before.

‘Don’t rush

I will wait for you

Take time

Leave your love behind’

You smiled at Sirius and he smiled back at you, the first honest and happy smile you had gotten from him and you were enchanted. All his smiles had been smirks and sarcastic grins till now, but this was a sight that was just as impressing as everything that was happening around you. And as Sirius took over and his smile disappeared as he sang further, you realised that you would anything to just see that smile again.

‘So just take your time

Cause I’ll wait for you’

The last notes sounded through the stadium. Sirius took you in his arms and lifted you off the ground as he spun you around. You laughed relieved and excitedly and pressed a kiss on Sirius’ cheek when he put you back down again. The audience screamed like it was the end of their life and you felt like crying, so happy.

- - - - - -

The sunlight was shining through the curtains in front of the windows. It was still early in the morning. Early meaning 6.30 AM.

The alarm on your phone woke you from your sleep. Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes and searched with your hand for the phone on your nightstand. Your hand passed various objects before it found the phone. With a sigh you turned off the alarm and plummeted back in your pillow.

The high of last night still hadn’t fully disappeared and when you thought about it, you still got butterflies in your stomach. It was surreal to you to see the thousands of people in that concert hall, all singing along to a song that you had helped writing, that you were singing.

And maybe the high would have stayed all day, if you didn’t have to get up so early in the morning. But you would not complain. You were on tour with a world famous band. This was your dream and if that meant getting little sleep and early mornings, then so be it.

An interview had been planned for eight o’clock, but you had to be there at least twenty minutes earlier. Another sigh escaped your mouth as you got up from your bed and stumbled to the bathroom.

Surprisingly, you didn’t even look so bad for so little sleep. The bags under your eyes were not even that dark and though your hair was a big mess, you looked like you had at least a six hour sleep. Which you hadn’t.

After the show, the boys and you had had a little party with the crew to celebrate the first show. It had been fun to learn everyone better. You had talked to Lily, the manager’s assistant and the girl James had a crush on. She was really nice to you and you hit it off well. You laughed with her at James’ lame attempts to ask her out, what made James a little annoyed as he was sitting close to you and listening to your conversation.

The hot water of your shower relaxed your muscles. You let the warm water stream over your face, the drops rolling over your cheeks and nose. You washed your hair and when you breathed in the scent of your shampoo that was spreading in steam through the whole bathroom, you were in a different world for a moment.

You were so deeply concentrated that you didn’t hear someone entering your room, until the person knocked on your door and you were startled from your daydream.

‘Who’s there?’ you asked loudly, making your voice clear over the running water.

‘Sirius,’ the answer was.

‘Hold on a minute!’ you yelled and finished your shower.

As the water was turned off a silence filled the bathroom. You reached for your towel and dried your body as quickly as you could. You turned around to take your clothes and then you realised that you had left them in the bedroom, since you had not expected any company so early in the morning.

Cursing under your breath you wrapped the towel around your body and brushed your hair so it looked at least a little presentable. You unlocked the bathroom door and barefooted you walked to your bed, where Sirius was sitting, playing with the remote of the television.

You tried to ignore the blush on your face as you made your way over to your suitcase and took your clothes out of it, your back to Sirius. You could feel his gaze on your body as you bowed forward to grab a shirt.

‘What’s up?’ you asked, killing the awkward silence.

‘I was wondering if you were awake yet,’ Sirius answered and he quickly averted his eyes when you turned back around.

‘I was,’ you said and you smiled at Sirius. You walked back to the bathroom to get dressed, but let the door open so you could talk to Sirius.

‘So how’d you sleep?’ Sirius asked, his voice echoing on the tiles of the room you were in.

‘Fine, little, but good,’ you mumbled.

You informed after Sirius’ sleep and after that a silence fell over the two of you. You were doing your make-up in the mirror, not having your shirt on yet in case you’d drop your mascara, which unfortunately happened more often than you liked, while you listened to the news anchor talking about a robbery in a local supermarket.

The silence was broken by your phone that had started to ring. Your hand flinched at the sudden sound and the brush of your mascara shot up against your skin, making a big black stain below your eyebrow. You quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned the black make-up from your face as the phone kept on ringing.

‘It’s yours…’ Sirius said from the bedroom.

‘Gimme,’ you muttered, lowering the towel from your head. You left the bathroom and walked to where Sirius was sitting with your phone in his hand. Immediately you recognised Tiffany’s picture on the screen and you smiled to yourself. You took the phone from Sirius and raised your eyebrow at him as he was staring at you. It was only then you realised that you were wearing nothing but a bra and pants. You scoffed and pushed Sirius back on the bed, making him flash his smirk at you. You rolled your eyes and answered your phone.

‘Y/N, YOU’RE ALL OVER THE INTERNET!’ Tiffany screamed through the phone. ‘HAVE YOU SEEN IT YET? I’M SURE YOU HAVE! YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!’

You chuckled at your friend’s enthusiastic voice, that was so loud Sirius probably had heard it too. ‘Tiff, Tiff, relax please,’ you eased her. ‘Listen, I have to get ready, so I’ll give you to Sirius for five minutes, alright?’

‘y/n, don’t you dare-’ Tiffany started, but you had already given the phone to Sirius, who had his mouth open when he got the phone from you. You gave him a smile and disappeared in the bathroom again.

Continuing with your make-up, you listened to Sirius talking to Tiffany, who was probably going to kill you when you got back home. You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Sirius laughed a few times and by his words the conversation seemed to flow quite easily.

Once you were totally dressed, you got back to the bed and sat down next to Sirius who quickly gave your phone back.

‘Love, it’s me again,’ you said and Tiffany sighed relieved.

‘y/n, I swear, the next time I see you…’

You laughed, while you put on your shoes. Catching Tiffany up with what had happened last night, you walked with Sirius to breakfast.

‘Your friend’s a handful,’ Sirius said after you had hung up on Tiffany.

‘She is, but she’s wonderful and has been nothing but supportive ever since I met her. I couldn’t wish for a better friend,’ you said as you stepped into the hall where they served breakfast. You sat down next to James, who was already sitting there with Remus.

Sirius sat down next to you and poured you coffee from the can that stood on the table. ‘I’ve got to say, I am a little disappointed you decided to put on a shirt, darling,’ Sirius grinned and next to you James choked on his orange juice.

‘Excuse me?’ he coughed.

You patted him on his back and shook your head. ‘Nothing, Sirius just can’t get the picture of me in my bra out of his head.’

‘I don’t think anyone ever could, dear.’

‘Sirius, please,’ Remus said. ‘It’s breakfast. Save your jokes for later.’

‘And how is it a joke, Rem?’ Sirius asked looking at his friend over his cup.

- - - - - -

‘Welcome back to Sirius XM, where we are currently joined by no one less than The Marauders and y/n, who is joining the band on their tour! Their new song Don’t rush, is out since a month and last night was the first show, kicking off The Marauders’ world tour. We have all five of them in our studio!’

The two radio hosts, whom you had learned were Raj and Marshall, sat on the other side of the table. You sat on the far left with Remus next to you. Since the studio wasn’t exactly built for five guests, you and Remus had to share a microphone, just as Sirius and James had to. The only difference was that you and Remus were both mature enough to let each other talk, while Sirius and James kept pushing the mic in the other’s nose.

‘Peter, starting with you. Are you excited for this tour? Any cities you are looking forward to visit?’ Marshall asked.

‘I am really excited for tour, yes. This album is something we worked really hard on and I think I speak for all of us when I say that this might be the best we have written so far,’ Peter answered, a smile spreading on his face as he talked about the album. ‘That being said, I am looking forward to every city we will visit. Every show is special and every crowd is awesome.’

‘Remus, Peter says this album is your best yet. Care to weigh in?’

‘I agree with Pete. We poured our heart and soul into this album and I really love how it turned out in the end. This music is different than our previous albums, but I think that doesn’t make it any less better. These songs are more about ourselves, about our insecurities and fears, but also about our happy moments.’

‘It’s our up and downs,’ James chimed in and Remus nodded.

‘Yes. And I think that is the beauty of it. It has something that everyone recognises. Nobody’s life is perfect and nobody lives on “ups” alone. We wanted to create something that shows that’s it’s okay to feel down or scared. It is okay to be insecure, because everyone is,’ Remus said and the other three boys nodded.

‘y/n,’ Raj said. ‘As a listener of the album, someone who didn’t know the thought behind the album, did you feel the same way when you listened to it?’

‘I did,’ you answered. ‘I first listened to the album alone at midnight, when it was released, and I am not ashamed to say that it definitely brought me to tears. I really think the guys got the message across.’  

Remus nudged you thankfully and you smiled at him, as Raj asked Sirius and James about a particular song. You listened with interest and smiled at the passion that the men had as they talked about their music.

‘And then y/n came into the picture, working with you on Don’t rush, which is a banger by the way. y/n, how was it working with the band?’ Raj asked.

‘It was all very new to me. I am used to writing songs on my own and now there were suddenly a lot of people around me. But it was an experience I will never forget.’

‘Did you have a lot of influence on the song?’

‘I think we all equally contributed to the song. The meaning behind it is definitely one that I recognise. We all tend to rush into the things that seem exciting and in doing so we often forget the way we get there. It is important to take your time and I think the song described that perfectly.’

‘James, how was working with her? What was she like?’

‘She was such a good person, not like us,’ James grinned and Sirius sniffed. ‘It was refreshing to work with y/n. She took us all back to that feeling we had when we first started writing songs. I think in a way she has improved us all, because she made us stand still and look at how much we have accomplished already. Sometimes you forget to look at that when your life is so busy. I am forever thankful for the friendship I have built with her.’

‘You’re gonna make me cry here, James,’ you said and wiped away a tear from your eyes. Remus put his arm around you and placed a kiss on the side of your head, while the others chuckled at you.

‘Sirius and y/n, we have to talk about your performance last night,’ Marshall said and he looked at you and Sirius. ‘I assume you have seen the way social media exploded after last night’s show?’

You nodded and chuckled as you thought back of the reaction of your friends and family. Your brother had sent you a video of your parents watching your performance for the first time and their reaction warmed your heart. Your mother was jumping around and had waved her arms through the air and your father had stood watching the video with tears on his face.

‘Fans have been speculating all around and I hope I am not crossing any boundaries here, but I do have to ask,’ Raj said and he leaned forward over the desk. ‘Are you two together?’

A silence fell over the studio as you looked at Sirius. He smirked at you and you smiled as you shook your head. ‘No, were not,’ you said and Raj frowned.

‘Really? You seemed to have quite some chemistry on the stage.’

‘The art of music,’ Sirius shrugged. ‘It can make anyone believe anything.’

- - - - - -

At the next show you were more relaxed. Now the nervousness of the first show was gone, you had found that you quite enjoyed the adrenalin that was rushing through your veins right before you went on stage. And even better was the joy that filled you when you stood on the stage.

Singing the song with Sirius had something magical to it. It wasn’t just the crowds that screamed the lyrics along or the music that reached to your bones. No, the best part was the smile that Sirius wore when he looked at you. For a moment you forgot everything around you when Sirius flashed you that smile.

The band played show after show and travelled all through North America. The cities you passed were all greater than the other. You went to places you had always wanted to visit and met new people.

The other thing that was just as fun as singing on a big stage every night, was meeting all the fans. And not even The Marauders’ fans; you had even met people that were fan of just you. People asking for pictures with you, for your autograph, anything. It was a new experience for you, but you adored every one of them. It had thrown you off at first when someone told you that you had saved their life, but the band had taken you under their wings and had explained how to deal with such situations.

You were beyond thankful to have those four guys around you. You had learned so much from them and you knew that you would have never made it if it wasn’t for their help.

In the time you spent with the boys, preparing before the show, talking after, the interviews, sleeping on the tour bus together, you really got to know them. You learned so much about them in such a little time and you were sure that even after the tour you would stay friends with them. You teased each other continuously , but where the teases with Remus, James and Peter were all innocent, with Sirius there was always another layer to them. Always a smirk or a wink. Not that you minded; you liked the little jokes and innuendos.

And if you were completely frank with yourself, you just liked Sirius.

- - - - - -

It was long dark as you lied in the uncomfortable bed of the tour bus. You were glad to at least have a bed and not have to sleep on a couch or something, but you had to admit that sleeping was very hard on those things.

You stared at the empty ceiling that was way too close to your face for your liking and thought of what you had read earlier.

You had been warned before not to believe the things people on social media said, but that was easier said than done. How could you not let those hateful words get to you?

Though you had dealt with hate comments more, these had been worse than ever before. There were people saying that you couldn’t sing and that you were ugly and fat, but that was nothing new. The things that hurt you the most were the people that said you were just on tour with the guys because you were an easy lay. Someone even said that you were just there to help them blow off some steam.

A tear escaped your eye and rolled over your face to fall on your pillow. You sighed sadly and got up. You jerked away the curtains before your bed and stepped out of it, bumping your head in the process. You cursed something under your breath as you walked to the back of the bus, where there was place to sit.

‘Who hurt you?’ Sirius chuckled as you sat down sighing.

He was lying on the couch in his grey sweatpants and an old T-shirt with his headphones in. He had a smile on his mouth, but that changed when he saw how you were looking. He took of his headphones and threw his phone to the side.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked genuinely.

‘It’s nothing,’ you muttered, playing with the edge of your sweater sleeves. ‘Just stupid people that suggest I’m a slut.’

‘What?’ Sirius asked and he moved closer to you.

You took out your phone and showed him the tweets. Sirius cursed out loud when he read them and he threw your phone behind you on the couch. He took your hands and forced you to look at him.

‘Listen to me,’ he said, his voice low. ‘You are not a slut, okay? You are the most incredible woman I have ever met. You are magnificent, lovely, beautiful, intelligent, witty and you have the most beautiful voice. My dear, if I couldn’t hold you in my arms, I would believe you are an angel.’

You smiled through your tears and wrapped your arms around Sirius’ neck.

‘They are just pity, little, jealous people that have nothing better to do in their lives. I wish I could protect you from them, but there will be more. Will you just promise me one thing?’ Sirius asked and you pulled away from him. ‘Never listen to them. Never doubt yourself. If you weren’t a good singer I wouldn’t have asked for you to come to tour with us.’

‘You asked for that?’ you said surprised.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Sirius said and he suddenly became a little awkward. ‘I had such fun writing with you, and the guys too, and I could not stop working together with you after just one song. So I asked out manager if you could tour with us.’

You smiled thankfully at Sirius and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Thank you, Sirius. And I promise. If I’m good enough for Sirius Black to come to tour with him, I am good enough to not believe those haters.’

‘You’ll always be good enough for me, darling,’ Sirius said with a wink and he got his usual cocky smile back. ‘Even better, if I say so.’

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you leant in to his chest. His cold fingers rested on your forearm and you felt a sparkle rushing through your body. You tried to ignore the little butterflies in your stomach, but the longer you sat with Sirius, the bigger they became.

‘I like having you here,’ Sirius said, his deep voice reaching to your bones.

‘You do?’

‘Yeah, you’re a refreshment from James’ lame jokes, Remus’ boring facts and whatever Peter tells. He’s not a great storyteller, that man.’

‘Well, I like being here,’ you said, turning a little so you could look at Sirius. His arms lowered and his hand rested on your hip as you leaned with your elbow on the back of the couch. You draped your legs over Sirius’ lap and played with his curls as you talked. ‘I do miss my family and friends though. Talking on the phone and face timing is not the same as actually being with them.’

‘I know, I hear the guys complain about that too.’

‘You not?’

‘No, I don’t talk to my family anymore.’

‘Oh,’ was all you said and you stopped twirling his black curls around your finger as you looked at him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’

‘It’s alright,’ Sirius smiled at you. ‘I left home when I was seventeen, moved in with James, lived there for a while before I got my own place. I got the perfect tragic background for an artist.’

You chuckled sadly and reached for Sirius’ hair again. There was a silence that stretched out through the whole bus. You stared at the black hair in your hands while you tried to ignore Sirius’ gaze on you.

‘Thank you for telling me,’ you whispered as if breaking the silence was a crime. Sirius nodded and rested his head back into your hand. He closed his eyes as your nails scratched his skin. It was something you used to see your mother do to your father when he was upset and you did it to your brother when you were younger.

‘I should go back to bed,’ you said after a while and made effort to get off the couch.

‘Or you could stay here,’ Sirius said as he pulled you back against his chest, making you fall on top of him on the sofa. ‘Those beds suck. I am far more comfortable.’

The couch was deep enough for two people to lie next to each other and you settled close to Sirius, his chest against yours.

‘Well, I can’t disagree with that,’ you grinned as you buried your neck in his chest.

Sirius placed his arm over your waist and pulled you closer to him. You listened to his heartbeat and you quickly found yourself dozing off.

‘Goodnight, love,’ Sirius whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

‘Goodnight, Sirius.’

- - - - - -

One benefit of touring with a band was that there was always someone around. If you wanted to play a game you could go to James, if you wanted to have a conversation you could go to Remus, for fun stories Peter was available and Sirius was always there if you needed a cuddle.

You appreciated the company but you were also glad if you had some time alone. And though that was hard as you woke up in a bus with the men, rehearsed, spent free time with them, then played a show with them and after that hung out with them until you fell asleep in the same bus, only for the cycle to start again the next day, there were some moments that you were alone. Like when you got coffee in the morning for everyone, while the boys were still asleep. Or if they decided to practice on the stage longer and you could sneak off to the back of the bus with a book. Those were little moments of peace that you found yourself enjoying more and more as the tour continued.

However, you were immensely grateful for all the fun moments you had with the band. You were basically living your lifelong dream right now and you’d be an idiot if you didn’t realise that. You got to see what it was like to have fans all around the world, to have people come up to you and ask for a photo, to be recognised in the streets. At first it had been a bit weird to you, but over the time you had learned how to handle such situations and how to say ‘no’.

Maybe that was the hardest part. Saying no. You knew that you had to set boundaries between personal and public life, but if someone came up to you, you were quick to take a photo with them or to talk to them. The guys taught you that it was important for yourself to sometimes just say no. Your fans had to respects your boundaries and if they didn’t then they couldn’t be called your fans.

- - - - - -

‘Ready for tonight?’ Peter asked as he sat down next to you and handed you a cup of tea.

‘Thank you. Yeah, I think I am. My family’s coming over, so I’m really excited,’ you answered.

This night, Tiffany, your brother and your parents were coming over to see your show. You had been talking to Tiffany over the phone for the past time and she was super enthusiastic to see the show. You had gotten them backstage-passes so they could see you before the show.

‘Are we gonna meet them?’ James asked, taking place on your other side.

‘Oh, you’re not going to get out of that,’ you chuckled. ‘Tiff is asking about you guys all the time.’

‘Tiff, eh? And what’s she like?’ Sirius asked as he pushed Peter aside to sit next to you. ‘Anything we might enjoy?’

There it was, that cheeky wink that made your stomach turn upside down. Combined with the smirk that seemed to be glued to his face.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ you said. ‘She’s pretty fond of Remus.’

You grinned back at him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt your butterflies in your stomach. The blood rushed to your cheeks and you tried to play it cool by starting a conversation with Remus and James.

Sirius was listening to your conversation while his fingers drummed on your upper arm. He hummed a song and you felt the bass of his voice thrumming in your chest. He brought his head closer casually and his voice was closer to your ear. Subconsciously you placed your hand on his thigh and his humming stopped. He twisted his head to you and you looked up from your conversation with the others.

‘What?’ you asked when you saw Sirius was raising his eyebrow at you.

His eyes shifted to your hand and then back to your face. ‘Enjoying yourself?’

You gave his thigh a little squeeze and smiled. ‘Very much.’

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing left his mouth. A smirk formed on your face when you turned back to your conversation. James cocked his eyebrow at Sirius and you heard the latter sniff next to you.

The ringing of your phone caught your attention. You jumped up from the couch, Sirius’ hand falling off your shoulder and sliding along the curve of your body, and you reached for your phone on the other side of the dressing room.

Tiffany’s voice was yelling through the room as you answered your phone, telling you that she and your family had landed and were on the way to their hotel. ‘It’s so great here, honey! I can’t wait to see you! I am so- What do you want?! Och, just leave me alone for a second!’

You laughed at Tiffany’s angry words as you heard your brother’s voice in the back. You knew she had always had a thing for him. Every time he came over she always made sure she was at her best. You had teased her endlessly about it. She made dinner for him countless times and always gave him a little more than the other guests. She was always stealing glances at him and sitting next to him, their legs pressed together.

But you didn’t think your brother minded. He liked her just as much if not more. And you teased him with it too. But he was reluctant of his feelings. Though he seemed to flirt with Tiffany now, from what you could hear.

Lily, the assistant, knocked on the door and when it opened revealed her head. She, when she noticed you were on the phone, whispered something to the men on the other side of the room. Tiffany was still talking to you about how much she liked wherever she was right now and you let her ramble on, turning to the guys to ask what Lily said.

‘We have to leave in five minutes,’ Remus mumbled.

‘Tiff, I have to go, honey,’ you said, cutting off Tiffany’s speech. ‘Okay? I’ll talk to you later. Love you.’

- - - - - -

The crowd was making a lot of noise as they filled the hall. You stood backstage in the hallway of the dressing room, but you could still hear them. You could feel the nerves slowly rising in your body. This wouldn’t be a night any different from the other nights the past month, but yet you felt more nervous than normal.

Anxiously you paced up and down in front of the door of the dressing room, waiting for your family and Tiffany to arrive. Your brother had sent you a text, saying that they were at the venue but after that you hadn’t heard from him.

Maybe that was why you were nervous. You had never played for such a big crowd with your family there. They had been at many of your little shows, but never one this big. You knew they were proud of you and that they would like it, but you couldn’t stop the nerves.

‘Darling, calm down. What are you so nervous for?’ asked Sirius as he left the dressing room and found you walking up and down.

He lifted his arms and you buried your face in his chest, as he wrapped his hands around your waist. ‘I don’t know,’ you mumbled, hugging more tightly onto Sirius.

‘You’re a great singer, your family will love you, the fans love you, the band loves you,’ Sirius’ voice got to a whisper, ‘I love you.’

Maybe he thought that the crowds were so loud that you wouldn’t hear it. Maybe he thought that if he whispered you wouldn’t hear. Or maybe he wanted you to hear. You didn’t know what he thought, but you knew one thing.

You heard.

Your body froze for a second and you lifted your head from Sirius’ chest. You stared at him with big eyes and you were unable to answer. Unable to tell him that you loved him too. Because you loved him too. You had known for a while, but you were too scared to admit it to yourself.

Sirius stared back at you with questioning eyes. A tiny smile formed on your mouth but before you could say anything, you heard footsteps.

You let go of Sirius, your hands lingering on his body and your chest aching for letting him go, and at the same time your parents, brother and Tiffany came around the corner. Your friend launched herself at you and you caught her in your arms. She immediately started talking about how much she had missed you, how silent the house was without you and how all your other friends were jealous of you.

Tiffany was still talking while you hugged your brother, who looked at your roommate with a goofy smile. You pinched his cheek and stuck out your tongue at him before you whispered: ‘So are you together yet?’

Your brother immediately averted his eyes from Tiffany and stared at you. He scrunched his eyebrows together at you and hit you playfully on the head. ‘Are you together with Mr. Singer yet?’

Your happy smile disappeared for a second as you were reminded of the moment that was just interrupted. But your grin came back quickly and you laughed at your brother. ‘Hm, I think I have made more progress than you,’ you said mysteriously and you winked before you stepped to your parents.

‘Oh, princess!’ your mother exclaimed and she engulfed you in her tight embrace. ‘Your father and I are so proud of you! We have seen ever video of every show!’

You hugged your father and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. ‘Good job, angel,’ your father said and your eyes watered up as you saw the tears in his.

‘And dare I say, you have quite the chemistry with that long haired man!’ your mother giggled. You looked over your shoulder at Sirius, who was occupied with Tiffany talking to him. He looked as distressed as when he first talked to Tiffany at your first night in New York. He caught your gaze and you waved at him before turning back to your parents. Your mother had a smug smile on her face and your father was looking over your shoulder at Sirius, with furrowed eyebrows.

‘Yes, Sirius has proven to be an absolute gentleman,’ you said, pulling your father from staring at Sirius. ‘You should meet the others too! Everyone is so nice!’

You saved Sirius from Tiffany, who seemed could not stop talking, and pulled your friend with you to the dressing room.

‘You have to tell me everything about you and my brother tonight,’ you whispered at her, while everyone else followed you. ‘And don’t tell me nothing has happened!’ you said when you saw her opening her mouth. ‘I know him and the way he looks at you tells me something has happened!’

Your family meeting The Marauders was as if your two families met. Your father immediately was drawn to Peter, your mother fussed over James, who was quickly saved by your brother and Tiffany sat down next to Remus. You winked at him and then raised your eyebrows at Tiffany and he burst out into laughter.

You sat down on the chair furthest away from everyone and watched the scene happily, though a little embarrassed at the way your family acted. The nerves that you had felt a while ago had gone and you were excited to play the show tonight.

After a while, James sat down next to you, after he was released from your mother’s conversation. He handed you a beer and you greedily accepted it. Maybe inviting your parents and your brother and Tiffany at the same time wasn’t such a good idea after all.

‘Where’s Sirius?’ James asked you.

Sirius hadn’t joined you and your family in the dressing room and you feared you had messed up by not answering to his confession. You wanted to look for him, but you knew all hell would break loose if you left your family alone.

‘I don’t know,’ you said, taking a sip from the bottle. ‘I was talking with him, but we were interrupted by these idiots.’ You gesture at your father who is doing a little weird dance in the middle of the room.

It wasn’t unusual for you to see this side of your parents, but you had hoped they would not show it in front of people whom they had never met. You knew they were crazy, but no one else needed to know.

‘Oh, well,’ James said nonchalant. ‘I am sure he’ll come back soon.’

- - - - - -

But Sirius didn’t. The next time you saw him was long after your family had been brought to their places and right before he was about to go on stage. In the dark you could see his silhouette contrasting with the lights from the stage. He was fumbling the microphone in his hands, as you had learned he only did when he was nervous.

You walked over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey,’ you said softly. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ he snapped back and you removed your hand from his body.

‘Sorry,’ you mumbled. ‘I know we never got to finish our conversation, but I just-’

‘Twenty seconds!’ the stage manager yelled, interrupting you.

‘I’ll see you there, right?’ Sirius asked, his voice cold and distant. ‘Just… do what you always do.’

Sirius stepped away from you to the stairs and you watched his figure with tears in your eyes as he climbed the stage with the rest of the band. James looked back at you and pointed at Sirius before ticking the side of his head. You chuckled through the tears and blew James a kiss before he disappeared into the bright lights.

Watching the men perform was still so inspiring to you. The passion that they had was something that you hoped to achieve some day yourself. They didn’t just make music, they made magic. You would never get tired of watching it.

‘Now I think it is time we bring out the person who is an immense support to us and who you all love. And if you don’t, well, then just cover your ears or something… Here’s y/n!’ James shouted and the audience screamed as you walked on stage.

You stood next to Sirius and for the first time since the tour started you felt like you were back at the first show again. All the insecurities came back to you in a wave and you felt a little dizzy. You grabbed Sirius’ arm for balance and he looked quickly at you, before averting his eyes again.

You knew that his was the only way to reach him. Through music, through his lyrics. If he didn’t want to talk with you, then fine. But you knew that he would listen to you if you sang to him.

So you sang the song with all the passion and love that you had in your body.

‘Won’t you please just look at me?

And listen to my heart

As I tell you all the stories

To never be apart

If this is what you’re feeling

Then tell me one more time

Will you take my heart along

And leave this all behind?’

Sirius looked at you, like he had done all those nights before, but something in his face was different. You smiled at him and put out your hand for him to take. He looked from your hand to your face and then the biggest smile you had seen all tour appeared on his face as he took your hand in his and squeezed it a little.

‘Don’t rush

I will wait for you

Take time

Leave your love behind’

A tear slid down your cheek as you looked at the big crowd in front of you that was singing along every word that left your mouth. The flashlights of phones waved through the air as in one movement.

‘Love, don’t break my heart again

Just push it to the side

I will still be waiting here

So you just take your time’

Sirius wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You both stopped singing for a minute and listened to the audience as they sang from the top of their longs. Even the band stopped playing and all that could be heard were the thousands of voices from the fans.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your head, Sirius whispered: ‘I love you, darling.’

You looked at him and smiled, while he wiped away the tears on your cheek. ‘I love you too.’

‘So know that I will love you still

Even if you take so long

Leave this place but come back please

For you are everything to me’

The last melodies of the song started and you intertwined your fingers with Sirius’ as you poured all your feelings into the last words.

‘So just take your time

Cause I’ll wait for you’

----------

Taglists

Sirius Black @treestarrrrrrrr @bumbelbeeesblog @with1love1anu @transparentttttttttt @sirius-satellite @cheoco @malikinglove @alwaysinmydaydreams @eateraa @bi-andready-tocry @fangirlofbooksandpasta @littlemissgothgirl @always394patronus @heavenly-ascended-melodies @mrs-moony @coldlilheart @fific7 @april-showers-and-flowers @susceptible-but-siriusexual

Marauders @secretsthathauntus​ @ronniethelost​ @sognatrice-as-a-hobby​ @hxrgreeves​ @wecouldbreakthedistance​ @valentina-007​

General HP @kitkatkl​ @girllety​ @yuptha-tsme​ @sleep-i-ness​ @iamak20​ @thefuturelawyer​ @weasleydream​ @missmulti​ @deafgirltingz​ @moonstarrnghtsky​ @bloodblossom73​ @mytreec​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @emmaloo21​ @kashishwrites​ @ananad1​ @figlia--della--luna​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @mrs-malfoy-always​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @thefandomplace​ @magicwithaknife​

let me know if you want to be added/removed/replaced

MASTERLIST

[vellichor-virgo]

soft like silk chiffon

i’ve decided to start officially introducing the “magic gang”, my affectionate nickname for the WIP-less cast of teenage magical creatures constantly clamouring inside my brain, to writeblr!

i wrote this sappy piece toward the end of september as a birthday present for my lovely friend abby, who shares joint custody of the magic gang with me.

without further ado: meet Adreanna, a siren who likes to pretend she doesn’t have emotions, and Akina, her witch girlfriend who proves this wrong at every turn.

heavily inspired by the song “silk chiffon” by muna & phoebe bridgers. 

(TW for romance, kissing, & a very brief, mild mention of blood) 

magic gang taglist: @cream-and-tea @chaotic-queer-disaster

(word count: 1528)

Three days into Adreanna’s Boston visit, Akina discovers something shocking.

“You don’t know how to rollerblade?” she demands, voice pitching high with disbelief. She leaps up from the couch to stare Adreanna down, hands perched on her hips. Her expression is affronted, as though Adreanna’s just said something deeply insulting.

Adreanna arches a brow from her spot on Akina’s cushion-covered couch, nearly buried under several knitted blankets and two purring cats whose names she’d never admit to forgetting. “No?” she says, trying not to smile at Akina’s deadly serious face.

“No? What do you mean, no? Why not?”

“I don’t know!” The smile slips free, tugs at the corners of Adreanna’s mouth, and a laugh bubbles up in her voice. The sound, to Akina, is like sunshine; the light in Adreanna’s eyes rare and precious as a sapphire pulled from the earth. “I never thought about learning how. I just bike everywhere back in Maine.”

Akina makes an incredulous sound, shaking her head before Adreanna even finishes speaking. “No,” she says. “No. Unacceptable. I won’t stand for this.”

“Oh?” Adreanna raises a brow again, but her smile is unrestrained now, a whole grin, really, bursting all over her freckled face. It ruins the effect she was going for. But Akina is smiling back at her in that way, that way that makes her want to reach for her camera, or put paintbrush to canvas, or catch lightning in a bottle. So she doesn’t mind at all.

“And?” she challenges, holding Akina’s eyes. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Akina’s grin stretches even wider, glinting star-bright.

Like a struck match, Adreanna’s heart sparks to life.

~

The next day, Adreanna finds herself sitting on a curb, blinking in the brilliant noonday sun.

“Are you sure we’re not going to get run over?” she calls out. Akina had said that this was a quiet road, but Adreanna has her doubts that anywhere in Boston is really quiet.

Akina is sitting in the middle of the street, brows furrowed in focus as she pulls a rollerblade onto her foot. At the sound of Adreanna’s voice, she rolls her eyes, but in the next moment, she sends a grin in her direction. “Do you think I’d bring you somewhere where you’d get run over?”

“I don’t know,” Adreanna says, smiling back. “You might be a faerie hunter. Maybe you’ve been buttering me up this whole time, and now you’re ready to strike.”

That makes Akina laugh raucously, throwing her head back. The sun brightens the soft skin of her throat, turns the ends of her dark hair to a glowing amber. Adreanna’s stomach gives a helpless flutter.

“D,” she says at last, fixing her eyes upon Adreanna’s face, a fond smile playing around her mouth, “do you really think I’d do all this buttering up just to let some soccer mom’s Subaru squish you into siren dust? I would hope you’d have more faith in my faerie-hunting abilities than that.”

“Well, I’ve never seen you carrying around any iron daggers.”

“That’s because I’ve been hiding them from you, dummy. Why would I show my weapons to my prey?”

Adreanna can’t help chuckling. She’s never been a giggly kind of girl—far, far from it—but here it feels simple, natural, easy as breathing. Everything feels that way with Akina.

“Why didn’t you stab me in my sleep last night and save yourself the trouble?” Then Adreanna’s grin widens, showing bright white teeth. For a moment, Akina imagines them in their other form—sharp and pointed as a shark’s. Adreanna’s smile is certainly shark-like now, brimming with smug glee. “Oh, right.”

“Hey.” Akina points a finger at her. “It’s not my fault the movie you picked was boring as hell.”

“It was not.” Adreanna is still grinning. “You just have the bedtime of a toddler.” 

“Do not.”

“Do too. You were out by eleven.”

“Was not!”

“I couldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

Akina rolls her eyes, pretending she isn’t trying not to laugh. “Stupid faerie laws,” she mutters. “Now stop being a smartass and get over here.”

She brandishes a second pair of rollerblades in Adreanna’s direction. Adreanna eyes them with an expression of distinct wariness, the same way she sometimes looks when Akina bursts into her dorm room at seven in the morning with a freshly-brewed potion she insists Adreanna needs to drink.

Akina huffs, playfully exasperated. “Drea, really. Rollerblading is not going to cut your glorious immortal life short.”

Adreanna’s brows raise. “Maybe not, but I have a feeling it might decimate my glorious immortal pride.”

Akina giggles as she stands and skates over to the curb in one fluid motion. She crouches down before Adreanna, not even flinching at the heat of the blistering pavement pressing against her bare knee, and grabs for her ankle. Adreanna, despite herself, allows her shoe to be tugged off, her foot to be guided into the rollerblade.

“Don’t be nervous,” Akina says, catching Adreanna’s eyes. She leans forward and places a kiss on Adreanna’s knee. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

Adreanna’s hand comes to settle on top of Akina’s. “I know you will,” she says, very softly, almost too quiet to hear. But Akina always hears her.

~

Hours later, they’re plunging through the sunset-lit streets, the summer air humming with the raucous, joyful sound of their laughter.

The learning process was slow-going, at first. Once the rollerblades were on her feet, Adreanna’s otherworldly siren grace seemed to evaporate, leaving her with all the elegance of a newborn fawn. (Akina would be lying if she said she didn’t think it was hilarious.) It took her near half an hour to work up the courage to let go of Akina’s hands. The sailing didn’t get much smoother from there—despite Akina’s best attempts to keep her earlier promise, Adreanna’s freckled legs are spotted with half a dozen bruises, and her knees are raw and red with streaks of blood that shimmer faintly blue in the golden light.

Adreanna doesn’t seem to mind any of it, though. Embarrassed colour rushes to her cheeks at first, but soon, each fall only seems to make her more determined.

“You okay?” Akina asks over and over, crouching down beside her, a note of panic creeping into her voice each time. And each time, Adreanna’s eyes blaze fiercely up at her from the pavement, her grin ferocious and beautiful. Each time, she reaches out a hand, her sleeves stained from dabbing at her bloody knees.

“Again,” she says, dauntless. “Let’s go again.”

Akina swears she’s never been more in love.

And soon, Adreanna is getting it. She starts falling less and less, her movements growing smoother, more confident. Before either of them know it, she’s coasting from one side of the street to another, delighted by her own abilities. Akina isn’t sure she’s ever heard her sound as excited as she does when she’s calling out, “Kina, look! Look! I’m doing it!”

By the time the sun is sinking toward the horizon and the world turns golden as honey around them, Adreanna is able to keep pace with Akina as they whirl through the streets, her hair a brilliant red banner whipping behind her in the wind, her laugh so contagious Akina feels like she can’t catch her breath.

They roll to a stop at a stop sign, even though there’s no cars in sight, as though the entire world belongs to them. Adreanna drifts close enough to grab Akina by the waist and tugs her close, revelling in the surprised little sound that bursts from Akina’s mouth in the moment before their lips meet. Akina tastes sweet and cherry-tart, and her skin is pillowy-soft beneath Adreanna’s hands. She never, ever wants to let go.

But soon their heads are beginning to spin from the lack of oxygen and she thinks a car might have pulled up behind them after all, because she distantly hears something that sounds like a horn honking. They pull apart with a gasp, and for a good long moment, all Adreanna can do is stare. And all Akina can do is stare back.

The car behind them honks again. Shrieking with laughter, hands intertwined, they take off like a shot.

~

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Akina asks at one point. The sky is beginning to go purple at the edges, and they’ve slowed down, gliding lazily by the side of the road, like leaves floating in a meandering river current.

Adreanna lets out a breathless laugh. She didn’t think she had any more laughter left in her, after today, but Akina just keeps pulling them out of her, like rabbits out of a hat. “For what?”

Akina shoves her shoulder. “For making you do this, obviously.”

Adreanna pulls Akina’s hand to her mouth. “There’s a lot more to thank you for than just that.”

Akina blushes as pink as the cotton candy clouds hanging over their heads. “Adreanna Bell, don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental.”

“Akina O’Connell, that is entirely your fault.”

Giggling quietly, feet aching with the most satisfying kind of pain, hearts full to bursting, the world dimming around them, they drift toward home.

[tilbageidanmark]

Movies I watched this Week - #83

It was another busy week film-watching-wise, and I managed to see a fair number of excellent films. The best of the lot were ‘Mrs. Harris goes to Paris’, ‘The Lacemaker’, ‘A scene at the sea’, ‘Incendies’.

🍿

2 with Lesley Manville + 2 with Isabelle Huppert:

🍿 Another haute couture adjacent role for the absolutely delightful Lesley Manville (After ‘Phantom Thread’) in Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris (2022). A Pixar-charming fairy tale with a score mimicking the "Married Life" opening sequence to ‘Up’. Mrs. Harris is Queen-For-A-Day, an older cleaning lady widow, who dreams of buying a Dior gown in 1956 Paris. Huppert plays a bitchy gatekeeper at the high-end retailer, an unusual role for her. This is the kind of pleasant romance for old people that my mom will love, but so did I, very much. 8/10.

🍿 My 5th Mike Leigh film, Topsy-Turvy, (1999) about the creation of Gilbert and Sullivan’s opera ‘The Mikado’. Not particularly fond of period dramas, and mostly unfamiliar with Gilbert and Sullivan’s Victorian music hall comedies, this highly-regarded production didn’t connect with me.

🍿 I’ve seen a dozen or so films with Isabelle Huppert, but none was actually from the beginning of her exceptional career. In The Lacemaker (1977) she stars as a shy 18-year-old girl who falls in love for the first time. Even though she was only 24 at the time, she already played at 15 films before. It’s obvious that even at that young age, she was a major talented actress. Subtle, compassionate and reserved, just like Vermeer’s. 9/10.

🍿

A Scene at the Sea (1991), my second by Takeshi Kitano, the one he made right before ‘Sonatine’. A quiet story about a young garbage collector who finds a discarded surfing board on his route and his geeky girlfriend with exceptionally big ears, both mute and deaf. It’s so refreshing to see an action-less ‘sport’ film that doesn’t hit you on the head with it, and where the determined ‘hero’ never gets more than half-decent with his hobby. (Photo Above).

A very lovely score by Joe Hisaishi, reminiscent of Erik Satie. 8/10

🍿

3 by Denis Villeneuve:

🍿 His horrifying Incendies (2010), dramatizing the tragic story of Lebanese fighter Souha Bechara during the Civil War. I resisted watching it for a long time, as I could feel it was too emotionally draining, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. Canadian twins are searching to unearth their mother’s middle eastern harrowing secrets. The torture, atrocities and cruelty were indeed tough to sit through, mostly because of Villeneuve's realistic direction, but the power of this extraordinary film gave it universal appeal. 9/10.

🍿 Next Floor, his symbolic, one-note 2008 short about a group of high-society carnivores who gorge themselves on dish after squishy dish at a dark banquet. Is it hell, or are they just modern consumers?

🍿 So After ‘Sicario’ and ‘Enemy’ and now ‘incendies’, I thought that maybe I should cover the rest of Villeneuve‘s works. But, after being discovered as a multi-layered story-teller, the first of the big Hollywood breaks he got, Prisoners (2013), was creepy and utterly unpleasant. Child abduction stories are usually a sadistic guise to dwell in the “worst of humanity”. And gory vigilantes are the excuse for “excising” these demons. But I despise both and don’t need them in my life, especially when they are delivered in degrading slow-motion and without any redeeming qualities (in spite of all the shallow religious symbolism). Fuck him.

David Thomson expressed it well here. 2/10. 

🍿 

The innocents (2022), my second Nordic Terror (after ‘Blind’) from Norwegian Eskil Vogt (who co-wrote all of Joachim Trier‘s films). It’s about an angelic-faced blond little girl, her autistic sister, and two other children who are afflicted with supernatural powers, one of them uses it for “evil”. The young actress who plays the autistic sister is incredible. And the Ambiance Noir score is superb.

It’s actually my favorite of these two authors’ disturbing work. Unfortunately, I can see him getting a big Netflix production as his next project, which will turn his subtle style into a bombastic, soulless formula.

🍿

Richard Burton X 2:

🍿 Absolution, another 1978 British drama with tortured priest Richard Burton, struggling with the deadly consequences of his ‘Seal of confession’. But, unlike ‘The night of the iguana’ this time there’s no John Huston to guide, and especially no Tennessee Williams to present ‘real’ characters. Instead, the 'Children's Hour’ theme of a strict teacher at a Catholic boarding school and his different treatment of two students is meddled, confused, and unsatisfying. The role of the rebellious student, who snares the priest into a evil web of murder is especially weak.

The best the film has to offer is Burton’s mellifluous, gravelly-deep Welsh voice, which is plenty, really. 4/10 for the 'Voice’ and the 70′s English film style.

🍿 Under Milk Wood, 1972 BBC adaptation of Dylan Thomas’s classic play, about a day and night in a small Welsh village. Burton and Thomas were friends and drinking buddies.

...“From where you are you can hear in Cockle Row in the spring, moonless night, Miss Price, dressmaker and sweetshop-keeper, dream of her lover, tall as the town clock tower, Samson syrup-gold-maned, whacking thighed and piping hot, thunderbolt-bass'd and barnacle-breasted, flailing up the cockles with his eyes like blowlamps and scooping low over her lonely loving hotwaterbottled body”...

🍿

As I am ready to immerse myself in  the films of Hou Hsiao-hsien, Edward Yang, Tsai Ming-liang, Etc. I watched the documentary Flowers of Taipei: Taiwan New Cinema (2014), about the Taiwanese New Wave of the 1980s. I’m looking forward to them.

🍿

2 epic Hindi stories from India:

🍿 3 Idiots (2009), a cheesy Bollywood saga about 3 friends at an engineering school. Like many Indian movies, it’s a 3 hour long broad comedy, over-dramatic with exaggerated details and absurd logic. Until everybody burst out singing and start dancing in front of neon-colorful vistas. Every time I see one of them, I say that I need many more Hindi musicals in my life. 5/10.

🍿 “... There are two kind of people in this world, Dicks and Assholes... And this is a game that these two play...”

Gangs of Wasseypur (2012) is a violent 5-hour gangster epic about three mafia families who fight for wealth and control through 3 generations. It’s frantic, bloody, brutal action, aspiring to be an Indian ‘The Godfather’ story, about revenge, greed and power. Unusually profane, with dozens and dozens of characters, and choppy story telling style. Banned in Qatar for violent content!

🍿

My 8th Hong Sang-soo film, Woman on the beach (2006), is the least satisfying of them so far. Probably because the main character is a common jerk. It does not start that way: A youngish director, Mr. Kim, is urging a colleague and his girlfriend to join him at a small seaside resort. There they sit in small restaurants (as per the usual Sang-soo custom), drink lots of Soju and talk endlessly. But slowly he discloses himself to be a deceptive ass, who manipulates the women around him, just so he can sleep with them, while still thinking so highly of his art craft. A disturbing portrait of a male ego, that is surely autobiographical.

And then there’s the unexplainable scenes with a cute white dog, Dori, which is abandoned by his normally-looking owners, just like that! Unsettling!

🍿 

2 first-watches starring Paul Newman:

🍿 Hitchcock’s cold-war spy “thriller” Torn Curtain (1966) with Newman and Julie Andrews. Lame, old-fashioned and lacking any suspense, the worst of his films in my mind. However, Hitch’s cameo at the beginning of the film is in Copenhagen at the hotel d'Angleterre, so yeah for that.

🍿Slap Shot (1977), a broad sport comedy that was his favorite role to shoot. About a failing ice hockey team that starts playing outrageously and violently. His only comedy?

🍿

Buster Keaton’s silent cowboy adventure, Go West (1925). Not as inventive or slapsticky as his best stuff, but it ends with a wild herd of cattle stampeding through the streets of LA.

🍿

2 By Spanish director Nacho Vigalondo:

🍿Colossal (2016) was truly a stupid movie: A giant reptilian Kaiju appears in Seoul, South Korea, killing and destroying things in its path. At the same time, alcoholic loser Anne Hathaway discovers that she is actually the one who remote-controls the Godzilla-like monster from a playground in her small New Hampshire home town. And from there, it gets funkier, and less coherent. It’s difficult to imagine how people come up with these moronic concepts. 1/10.

🍿7:35 in the Morning (2003) was his first film, an Oscar-nominated short about a suicide bomber who terrorizes a busy cafe, by singing and dancing and getting everybody to join him. Odd and uninteresting

I actually saw another of his films this year, ‘Time Crimes’ - and all three were no good!

🍿

“...This corn is raw!...”

The perennial Cold War techno-thriller WarGames (1983 - Opening scene with young Michael Madsen and John Spencer).

Doctor Strangelove’s Doomsday Machine with Stephen Hawking robotic voice, and the film that convinced ‘Evil Empire’ Reagan to invest billions of dollars in his SDI Star War wet-dream systems. Re-watch.

"...A strange game. The only winning move is not to play..."

🍿

Leif Gantvoort’s short Passed the Brush (2020) about a man who has a makeup brush fall from the ceiling into his lap. Re-watch.

🍿

I’m finally going to start watching ‘Better call Saul’ this week. But until then, I binged on ‘Slippin’ Jimmy’, a quick animated AMC money-grab, which is basically Saul Goodman spin-off for 9-year-old boys. 1/10.

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Throw-back to the art project:

Under milk Wood Adora.

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(My complete movie list is here)

[route22ny]

BY MICHAEL J. MOONEY | PHOTOGRAPHS BY DAVE SHAFER

Staring at the front of the Royal Theater, I feel as though I’m looking backward through time. Taking in the cerulean marquee, the painted red fringe around the box office, the vertical ROYAL sign jutting into the afternoon sky—it’s easy to imagine why the denizens of Archer County flocked here for decades. The theater was a dark, cool respite from the blazing sun, a still escape from the whipping winds of the North Central Plains, a glimpse of entertainment from the outside world.

The theater—or what’s left of it anyway—peers out from the northeast corner of the town square. Without the storied theater, this could be any small town in Texas. Weathered barns and rusted oil pumps dot the landscape. Anchoring the town is the imposing three-story Romanesque Revival county courthouse, with stone archways and provincial peaks. There’s also a small café (Murn’s), a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it police station, a few antiques stores, and a single four-way stoplight swaying in the breeze like an apparition.

The Royal Theater as it is now and as it was then.

This isn’t just any small town in Texas, though. Archer City is the Texas small town. It’s the setting of both the novel and film versions of The Last Picture Show, a coming-of-age story rendered in black and white that earned eight Academy Award nominations, including Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay), Best Directing, and Best Picture. In Larry McMurtry’s book, published in 1966, the town is called Thalia. In the movie, directed by Peter Bogdanovich and released in 1971, it’s called Anarene—a name taken from an abandoned town 8 miles away. But rest assured, both places are Archer City: the looming courthouse, the blinking stoplight, and the Royal Theater, where so many of the most dramatic moments of The Last Picture Show take place.

The novel, which McMurtry called a “spiteful” book intended to “lance some of the poisons of small-town life,” received critical acclaim when it was published. But it was Bogdanovich’s film that truly introduced the entire world, in utterly unromanticized fashion, to the intense, sweeping sagas of everyday life in Archer City. The Last Picture Show turned this particular and peculiar town into art.

Both the novel and movie contain language that was considered lewd at the time. McMurtry’s own mother, Hazel, once said that after reading the first 100 pages she hid the book in the closet and called her son that night. “Larry, honey,” she said to him, he revealed in his 2002 travel memoir Paradise, “is this what we’re sending you to Rice for? Those awful words!”

The film, with its nudity and frank depiction of teenage sexuality—including Cybill Shepherd’s first and only topless scene—absolutely scandalized upright, moral Americans all over the country. Nowhere more so than in Archer City, where it was regarded at the time as a “dirty” movie.

Now, 50 years after the film’s release, the town’s past dalliances with Hollywood are somehow simultaneously scuttled and omnipresent. There’s no billboard at the city limit announcing the place’s cultural significance, no notation on the water tower. But there are echoes of the art formed here, about this place, along every street, around every corner. Some might even feel the spirit of McMurtry, who passed away in Archer City earlier this year.

Over the last five decades, Peter Bogdanovich, a New Yorker who operated in Los Angeles, has told the story of the movie’s origin many times. He’d seen the novel in a store, liked the title, saw what it was about, and immediately put the book back down. Then actor Sal Mineo, who’d starred alongside James Dean and Natalie Wood in Rebel Without a Cause, gave Bogdanovich a copy of the novel, saying he thought it would make a good film. Bogdanovich still didn’t read it, but gave it to his wife, production designer Polly Platt, and asked her to read it. When she inspired him to finally read it himself, he was intrigued by the challenge of conveying small-town life in Texas and eventually co-wrote the screenplay with McMurtry. Bogdanovich, Platt, and McMurtry took a long road trip scouting locations in Texas, but ultimately the director realized he wanted to shoot the movie in McMurtry’s hometown.

Set in the early 1950s, the story follows three teenagers—the co-captains of the football team and the so-called prettiest girl in school—through their senior year of high school, as they each struggle to make sense of adult concepts like love and sex and the fragility of human life. Sonny Crawford is the sensitive, thoughtful boy from a broken home. Duane Jackson is Sonny’s lovelorn best friend who escapes first into the oil fields and then the Korean War. Jacy Farrow is the coquettish rich girl who yearns wholeheartedly for something beyond the confines of her surroundings. The Last Picture Show also famously includes an ensemble of carefully rendered adults trying to cope with their own expired dreams and broken lives.

McMurtry repeated over the years that the characters he created weren’t based on any real-life individuals, but the people of Archer City always suspected otherwise. A man named Bobby Stubbs, who was photographed with McMurtry in their high school yearbook, believed he was the inspiration for Sonny. Stubbs had a troubled home life and worked nights like Sonny, and he drove the same kind of pickup truck. He was also once hit in the eye by the boyfriend of a girl he liked. “It kinda pretty closely followed me,” Stubbs used to say.

A woman named Ceil Cleveland Footlick was often asked if she was the inspiration for Jacy. She was “very good friends” (her words) with Stubbs and had been voted “Most Beautiful Girl” in her class. For years she brushed off the question, but in 1997 she published a memoir with the title Whatever Happened to Jacy Farrow?

Because of the book’s reputation, getting actors to audition was a challenge. Randy Quaid was cast as Lester, an awkward, sleazy suitor of Jacy’s. He’d only read the parts of the script that involved his character, which mostly centered on Lester taking Jacy to a naked swimming party. “I just thought it was going to be like this B-movie, teenage, soft-porn movie,” Quaid would later say. “Something you’d see at the drive-in.”

None of the young stars had much experience in film. Timothy Bottoms, who’d only been in one movie before, was cast to play Sonny. Jeff Bridges, cast as Duane, had been a professional actor nearly all his life, but at 21 years old, this would be his first major film role. And Bogdanovich cast Shepherd as Jacy after seeing her face on the cover of Glamour magazine.

Most of the adults in the movie were played by established Hollywood actors, including Cloris Leachman, Ellen Burstyn, and Eileen Brennan. For the role of Sam the Lion, the wisdom-dispensing owner of the town’s pool hall, Bogdanovich cast Ben Johnson, the champion-rodeo-cowboy-turned-stuntman-turned-Western-movie-icon. At first Johnson turned down the part on account of the foul language, but Bogdanovich called in a favor from his director friend John Ford, who convinced Johnson to do it.

Almost as soon as filming started, real life began imitating the art being created. While making a movie about illicit sex and barely veiled scandal, the set was awash in illicit sex and barely veiled scandal. The actors spent a lot of time drinking and smoking together in their hotel rooms 30 minutes north in Wichita Falls, and that led to drama. Bottoms fell in love with Shepherd. Bogdanovich started an affair with Shepherd, dissolving his own marriage while his wife, Platt, continued to work on the movie. (Most mornings Platt styled Shepherd’s hair.) “It was quite a soap opera,” Burstyn said in the documentary Picture This: The Times of Peter Bogdanovich in Archer City, Texas.

This was everything the locals had feared: all the immoral luridness of Hollywood, right here in a part of Texas not so comfortable with unwholesomeness that didn’t stay behind closed doors.

Outside of Archer City, it was a different story. The movie received great reviews from coast to coast. Johnson won the Oscar for Actor in a Supporting Role and Leachman won for Actress in a Supporting Role. The film is still beloved today and maintains a spot in the coveted National Film Registry.

But at the time of its release, most of the locals disapproved. Strongly. The Los Angeles Times ran a story about it with the headline “Movie Riles Town It Depicts.” McMurtry, who was involved in Bogdanovich’s vision, eventually got so annoyed by the vicious gossip in town that he sent a letter to the editor of the Archer City newspaper, challenging anyone in town to a public debate.

His offer went unrequited.

Archer City’s population is 1,848, only a couple hundred larger than it was when McMurtry grew up there in the ’30s and ’40s. The town is the seat of Archer County, created in 1858 by the Texas State Legislature and named after Branch Tanner Archer, former secretary of war of the Republic of Texas. Ranching and oil have long been the predominant industries—by late 1926, there were more than 400 oil wells within 13 miles of Archer City—but many people are increasingly attracted to the town for its proximity to prime hunting.

Many of the locations where The Last Picture Show was filmed are gone now. Where Sam’s dusty pool hall once stood, with its door flapping in the wind, there’s nothing but an empty dirt lot. The Rig-Wam Drive Inn, the burger joint where Jacy dangled french fries over Duane’s head as if he was a trained seal, is just a plot of asphalt and patchy grass. The West-Tex Theater in the neighboring town of Olney, used for the interior movie theater scenes, was torn down in the mid-’80s. Today it’s a small, quiet park with a gazebo.

Some places are still here, but different. The restaurant where Brennan’s character worked turned into Booked Up No. 4, one of four bookstores McMurtry set up around the town square before shuttering all but one in 2012. The high school has some of the same old features, though it’s been updated and decorated with a handful of granite statues marking state titles the school has won through the years.

Much of the town looks and acts remarkably like it did when The Last Picture Show was made. Boys about the age of Duane and Sonny still speed through town in pickup trucks. Men the age of Sam the Lion still stop them to talk about football. The dance hall at the American Legion, where Jacy and Duane twirled around the room and Sonny ran into his estranged father, looks like it could host the same event today. On a recent evening, four or five locals were perched on barstools, sipping cold beers, listening to songs on the jukebox. They got rid of the old Wurlitzer years ago, but the updated digital version there now still plays all the Hank Williams Sr. songs from the movie.

In time, feelings in Archer City softened a bit. Mostly, the people here don’t talk much about the movie, or about McMurtry, the town’s most famous son. You can spend all morning at Murn’s Café and all night at the American Legion, the only bar in town, and never hear The Last Picture Show mentioned once. It’s not the source of tension it once was.

The public change of heart was most apparent in 1989, nearly 20 years after The Last Picture Show was filmed, when Bogdanovich returned to Archer City to shoot the sequel, Texasville, based on a book of the same name by McMurtry. This time the townspeople lined up to participate as extras. People came from miles away to sell concessions or to take photos or just get a glimpse of the nearly $20 million production.

“The bad taste that the movie left for some folks, that’s gone now,” then-high school principal Nat Lunn told the Austin American-Statesman at the time. “Especially with money being short in town, they’re ready for another dose of Hollywood.”

By the late 1980s, the three leads in the first film—Bottoms, Bridges, and Shepherd—had all become stars. While the entire budget for the first movie was around $1.3 million, Shepherd alone was paid $1.5 million to reprise her role. Bridges was reportedly paid $1.75 million. Bottoms, who’d complained publicly about Bogdanovich and said he didn’t like any of his co-stars, would only agree to return if he was given an additional $100,000 to fund the Picture This documentary.

In the two decades since the first movie, Bogdanovich’s career had soared and crashed. He and Shepherd had broken up; he went on to have multiple relationships, and she had two divorces. Bottoms was also divorced and remarried, but on the set he confessed the crush he’d had on Shepherd. Platt returned, too, and brought the 21-year-old daughter she and Bogdanovich shared. It became a grand, twisted Hollywood reunion, right there on the streets of Archer City.

Drawn by the potential spectacle of what was by then some sort of love-octagon, media outlets from across the country sent reporters to town. There were long feature stories in both Entertainment Weekly and the Los Angeles Times. By all accounts, though, the entire production served as a therapeutic experience, healing the wounds of the past. At one press conference, the often-sullen Bottoms hugged Bogdanovich. Behind-the-scenes footage caught Shepherd hugging Bottoms. Residents of Archer County took photos of themselves on the set.

But when the movie was released, it tanked. It received middling reviews, earned back only a fraction of its budget, and even today it’s not easy to find on any of the major streaming services.

A lot of people associated with The Last Picture Show are dead now. Stubbs, who claimed to be the basis for Sonny, died in 1992. Johnson in 1996. Sam Bottoms, the real-life younger brother of Timothy Bottoms who played the mute boy Billy, died in 2008. Platt, the producer and production designer who somehow never pulled Shepherd’s hair, died in 2011. Then Brennan in 2013.

In January of this year, Footlick, the woman who wrote about being the real Jacy Farrow, died in North Carolina. Leachman died almost two weeks later. And on March 25, McMurtry, the writer who created all this beautiful trouble, died at the age of 84.

A few days after his death, nobody answered the doorbell at his house in Archer City, a majestic, three-story mansion just down the road from the high school. Looking through the front window, everything seemed to me to be just the way he left it, from the table made from a giant dinosaur fossil to the towering shelves of books in every room. McMurtry bought this place, the biggest home in town, after he won the Pulitzer Prize for Lonesome Dove. He’d wake up early in the morning, type for an hour and a half or so at his long oak table, then go to the bookstore to price antiquarian volumes. Most of the locals would leave him alone.

On the house’s front porch, a single rocking chair was situated to look out over the front yard into the surrounding neighborhood. Someone sitting there could see the comings and goings of a lot of people. As the early-evening wind moved through, the chair began to rock ever so gently.

These days, I sense the people of Archer City think differently of The Last Picture Show. It’s a part of the town’s story, just like the cattle industry and state titles. The movie is even mentioned on the town’s website, though it’s certainly not prominent.

There’s also a tiny park just off the square with a fiberglass horse covered in brands from local ranches and a display that chronicles a bit of the town’s history. The welded metal wall has separate panels for the town’s founding, the first successful oil well drilled here, and the giant fire that swept through in 1925. There’s also a panel explaining how the town was the filming location for The Last Picture Show and Texasville. Bogdanovich’s last name is misspelled.

A couple hundred feet away is the Royal Theater. Most of the building is a burned-out hull, popular for weddings, photo shoots, and occasional performances. The front of the building has been restored, though. It looks just like it did in the movie, the image that begins and ends the film. It’s haunting and beautiful, weathered and damaged—but still here, still standing, still looking at that single blinking light swaying in the wind.

***

The Last Picture Show wasn’t the first movie based on a novel by Larry McMurtry, and it certainly wasn’t the last. You might besurprised by just how many films and TV shows have been made from his novels. Here are a few:

Hud, 1963 (based on Horseman, Pass By) The Last Picture Show, 1971 Lovin’ Molly, 1974 (based on Leaving Cheyenne) Terms of Endearment, 1983 Lonesome Dove, 1989 Texasville, 1990 The Evening Star, 1996

https://texashighways.com/culture/how-the-last-picture-show-changed-the-worlds-view-of-small-town-texas/

[alex-frostwalker]

°°The Girl who Fears the Future°°

Chapter 3

To a World Stage and Memories

The sun is rising again in Wonderworld, with its light shining. Ghost was very active this morning ever since she 'interacted' with Clocktower Kid. Sending mail after mail was great, thanks to Cloud who's been helping out by giving Clocktower Kid the mail from stage to stage.

It was a nice moment for Ghost, Clocktower Kid with Pensive Perriot came to her stage more frequently that day. It starts from a simple letter passing until a planned meeting by her stage. She was nervous to show herself to them since she has never socialized with anyone unless it's Lance, and usually hides in the covers.

Ghost is in her room, sitting next to her desk as she is writing in her journal about her experience for the but she stayed in her room more than usual.

"Journal #34"

"It's been good today, I feel quite refreshed after opening up to Perriot and Clocktower Kid days ago.

Now they got to show me their stages, it was amazing! A giant clock tower showing up in the distance as I walk by from Clocktower Kid's stage.

While for Pierrot's stage?

Amazing with the rides and playing at the carnival stall games.

We won some of the games, half of these are rigged and hate it so much.

We had a good laugh, we got some plushies too!

Many kinds of plushies that we get, giraffes, parrots, and- "

She froze for a second and frowned at the words she wrote. She shivered back at that memory as the cold gust of it just flowed in her room. She looks outside to see the dark sky illuminated by the beautiful stars sparkled through.

~Flashback~

    “Yeah that was fun!” Giggled Clocktower Kid as she steps off the spinning teacups with Perriot and Ghost by her side. “Yeah Clocktower Kid,” he smiled as he held his stomach from that ride. “You.. Kinda spinned it too fast..” Commented Ghost, as she stands near a light post for support.

She then slowly walked to Perriot and whispered, “Thanks for stopping the ride Perriot,” he looked at her and said, “Your welcome Ghost, good thing Lance told me about changing the stage a bit, or else we would never ride those.” He smiled and shook his head a bit as his stomach ache slowly fades away.

The sound of laughter now slowly faded as they now finally rested from the thrill.

“Hey Ghost,” said Clocktower Kid.

“Yeah?” Ghost leaned to the side to get a good look at her.

“Do you really not want to meet the others?” Clocktower questioned her, “They are really amazing people that you’ll love to know more about!”

She looked at her eagerly.

Ghost nervously sweats, “I think it’s not really a good time for me, I mean yeah! They sound great but…” She trails off to the side.

‘I just don’t want to….’

Pensive Perriot thought to himself, ‘Well maybe-’’

“Hey look over there!”

Grabbing his attention to Ghost, seeing her looking over to the direction the game stalls. “Oh the game stalls? Interested?” Perriot questioned her.

“Oh- yeah actually,” she kindly smiled at him.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Clocktower Kid questioned them, “Let’s go!” She jogged off to where the game stalls are. As a bunch of Negati are following her to the stall games not too far from it with Ghost and Pensive Perriot following her.

The list of stalls in front of them are Get the Duck, Balloon Poppers, Apple Dive, Dart Toss, and Ball Throw.

“Oh! These look nice!” Ghost commented, “Yeah these are very fun to do!” said Clocktower Kid. “Would you like to take a shot?” Perriot questioned her as he walked near to a game stand, “Me and Clocktower played this so many times so you should enjoy it too!” He looked at her as he is now on the Balloon Poppers game stand. “Wanna try this game?”

She looked at the game, "I guess I'll try," she then picked up the dart and threw it at the balloons. It managed to hit the ones below.

Ghost smiled, enjoying the game. "Nice shot Ghost!" Complimented Clocktower Kid. "Well thanks! Well I did my best, it isn't much tho"

Looking to her side as she sees Perriot set up the Duck stand. "Hey Clocktower Kid, wanna catch some ducks?" He questioned, "Sure thing!" She responded as she went to him. They then enjoy their game, Perriot decides to make the game more challenging, he shakes the sides of the table that's holding a little pool filled with rubber ducks, "Hey Perriot! That's cheating!" She whined at him and whacked him with a stick of her fishing pole. "Woah! Hey hey! Stop that!" He then defended himself, "I was trying to make it more interesting", he added. "You could've just told me!" She pouted and gave him the look, "Whoa hey I'm sorry Tower," he apologized.

Ghost was amused and enjoyed a bit of their quarrel. She let out a small giggle, "Pfft- hahaha!" Thinking about how long this will go, 'Man.. I think it's better to stop them,' she thought.

"Woah hey guys! Ya need to cut that out!" She yelled to get their attention as she got closer, "These toys don't win themselves ya know," she added. 

Clocktower Kid and Pensive Perriot looked at each other, "Yeah I guess you're right," replied Perriot. "Sorry I didn't tell ya, I just love surprises!" He exclaimed. "I'm sorry too," she smiled at him. They then went back to play the game.

"Oh and Perriot?" She called to him, "Yes?"

"Would you mind if I explore around a bit? I really like to know more about this place personally, is it ok?" She questioned him. "Yeah! It's ok, I don't mind that. Just don't go too far ok? Also you can take anything you like here," he answered.

"Thank you, and don't worry. It won't take long!" She replied as she left.

Leaving those two alone she explored the park. There were a lot of Negati scavenging in the shops as she then circles around the castle attraction. She notices a lot of food stalls and rides that are really familiar to her. Yet she can't put her finger on it.

She then hears a bunch of noises by the corner of the building, a Negati that's in the trash can struggling. "Oh! Just a Negati," she commented, as she was about to go the other way. The noises from the trashcan became louder, "Hmm?" She looked at the trash can again as she cautiously approached the Negati. "Ya stuck?" She inspected it, as it's little legs and tail began to wag furiously making the trash can shake violently. "Yup… Ya stuck," she then gets a hold on the Negati, lifting it up, and carefully shaking it. It then shakes furiously and now falls down with a plop.

She then took a good look at the Negati, "Ya good?" She looked at it carefully and inspected what kind of Negati but it pounced on her.

"Woah woah woah- hey!" Falling down from the attack, she underestimated the small Negati, "Woah hey- leave me alone! I was trying to help!" Rolling from side to side so she can get away a bit from the creature. "Ow ow ow ow! Now you are munching me!" She desperately swats it away as it munches her hip as she then stands up to look at it. 

Now standing away from the small beast, it's a Gawgaw, it has some markings and stripes all over its body, it stands on all fours and has a waggy tail and finally, a mask with pointy ears.

It growls at her and barks, staying in it's usual spot. She puts her hand on her right hip where the Negati bit her, feeling something rough in her pant pocket. 

Pulling it out reveals a small bundle of Drops.

"Oh? You want this?" She questioned the Gawgaw. "Bark! Bark!" It joyously wags its tail as it looks at the Drops.

 "You want it boy?" It jumped higher with joy as she swung the Drops around, "Then go get 'em," tossing it to the side, the Gawgaw rushed in and ate the Drops with its jaws, crushing it to bits with it's jaws.

"Man.. That hurt," she muttered as she worried about her hip. Looking back at the trashcan that looks very clean, she sees something white. Taking a step closer to the object, it was a white cat plushie with gray stripes and looks like it is in a good condition.

"Huh? Why would someone throw this away?" Ghost wondered to herself, looking back in the trash can was a bundle of fresh, clean cat themed items.

"What the?? There are so many!" She pulled out a couple of cat ear headbands and jackets. "These look cute but why would but why?" Putting the headband and jacket back in the trash can, she looked around to find a place to properly put the items on. Holding the trash can, she saw a bench next to a small fountain.

Carrying the bin, she walked off to the bench and placed the bin by the side. She analyzed the items before her, "These are pretty clean, why would Attilio throw these?" She wondered, "Maybe it's best to ask Pensive Perriot," Ghost thought about that, she then picked up the things that she could carry and left.

She then went back to the game stalls with the items she had to show to her friends. Looking around to see where Perriot and Clocktower Kid went, she saw them at the cotton candy machine. That's not far from the game stalls, she saw them casually eating cotton candy.

"Yum! This apple flavored cotton candy is really tasty," commented Clocktower Kid, "Yeah, but Clocktower Kid don't eat too much or you'll have a stomachache." Perriot told her as he eats the cherry flavored cotton candy.

"Hey guys!" Ghost called out to them. "Oh hey Ghost! That was quick," said Perriot, "Where did you go, Ghost?" Questioned Clocktower Kid.

"Well I was just strolling around the large building over there," she then pointed to the building she was talking about, "Then I heard a noise, just to see a Negati stuck in the trash can."

"Awww.. Are they ok?" Clocktower Kid questioned her, "Oh don’t worry it’s ok tho,” she reassured her, “but I found this!”

She shows the two a cat plushie, not realizing the shocked look on Clocktower Kid's face.

Things went downhill after that very moment.

~Flashback End~

'I'm sorry Clocktower Kid… I didn't mean to..'

She now finishes writing in her journal after that train of thought. Remembering Clocktower Kid's horror of seeing that plushie. She didn't know what to do, regretting about what happened, she kept quiet and didn't interact with them for a few days. Just to give them space once in a while.

Suddenly she heard a distant knock, immediately closed her notebook and hid it in her drawer. Looking out in the window was Lance himself. "Oh it's Lance," she muttered as she quickly fixed herself up and went downstairs.

Reaching the porch she opens the door, "Oh hey Lance," she happily greets him, "What's up?" She questions him. "Oh I'm just visiting here for a moment when going, just want to see how you are doing?" he said calmly with a smile.

"Oh just doing absolutely nothing actually, just vibing!" She replied as she opened the door fully, 

"So where were you headed actually?" Ghost questions him, "Well this is actually a personal matter for this time of hour," he answered as he looked to the side, looking out in the buildings for something.

"Ok I see," she said as they awkwardly stood by the porch. Ghost not knowing how to continue the conversation, but then a memory just popped up in her head. "Oh Lance before you go, I have to ask you this one thing that's been bothering me," scratching her head out of nervousness. "Sure thing Ghost, what is it that's been bothering you the most?" He rhymed. "Well this sounds stupid but..." Trailing off from her words as she speaks.

"I'm seeing some things that are never there," she said as she nervously tried to explain to Lance, "Really? I've got a feeling this isn't silly," he commented.

 "I saw someone running in the flower field as I was feeding the Negati a few days ago, and they were really not happy about this stranger, and later on. I got these weird images flashing through my head and I'm really frightened by it. There were these people looking at me disappointed and angry at me." she starts having goosebumps from that thought. "And… I don't even know them yet. I feel an amount of dread and pain like… I failed them..." Ghost tries to hold back the tears.

Lance then puts his hand on her shoulder, "Calm down Ghost, if it really frightens you like that, then just don't speak about it such as that."

"No!"

She yelled, making the Negati around the stage go quiet.

"It really feels important! I just gotta tell you!" She added, shocking Lance from the outburst.

"There is this one thing that scares me from that," she continues, "There is this one strange figure, very tall actually." She added.

"Really?" Said Lance, who got interested in the description. "Yes really," she closed her eyes trying to remember what that figure looks like. "Well it looks like you, I think, with the clothes." She said as he slowly looked at him. "He wears a huge tophat that doubles as a mask, yellow glowing eyes, has a big smile and has some dreadlocks."

She finished her description to him, not noticing Lance's gaze got darkened.

'He's really persistent huh?' He thought, then looking back at Ghost, "Don't worry Ghost. That thing won't get near because I am here." He then calms her down, "Thank you Lance," Ghost happily looks at him.

"Promise me.. That you'll be there for me right?" Ghost questioned him. Silence only occurs between them as they look at each other.

"It's a promise Ghost, I'll be there when you need me the most," the Maestro promised.

"Looks like I better go now," he said as he bowed to her as he made his exit casting a portal.

"Goodbye Lance!" Ghost said as she happily waves and now goes to close the door.

"Ciao!" He waved back as he disappeared through the portal.

~Later somewhere else~

"Looks like Balan and his pawn is still ongoing huh?" Said Lance as he stands still on a floating debris, gazing through the parts of Wonderworld. "Chirp chirp!" Tweeted the Sutasuta, a birdlike Negati standing by his side.

Lance took notice of the Negati, kneeling down and stretching out his hand towards the creature. Telling it to hop on his palm, and it did.

Standing up he pulled out a Drop which the Sutasuta happily ate. He smiled as the Negati enjoyed its meal.

"He doesn't know he'll just make it worse for them or even himself," he sighed as the Negati finished the Drop and flew away through the sky.

Lance then gazes through Wonderworld as time goes on.

 

~••Chapter 3 End••~