#i also got to listen to the music after playing on mute the whole time.

[maraschinotopped]

ooooogh i feel a bit too mentally ill about sbm5 (<- wants to find gifs of the bomber idle animations)

[gibbearish]

am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes

[nhlclover]

I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME WILL SMITH

pairing: will smith x fem!reader

word count: 1.84k

summary: after will sees you at a party, he can't get you out of his head despite not knowing your name

warnings: one curse word, descriptions of reader having auburn hair

notes: based on 'i don't even know your name' by shawn mendes. after he came out with noah kahan in toronto, i've been listening to shawn's old albums non-stop.

The music thumped from inside the house, slightly muted to Will and the other patrons in the backyard. The warm glow of string lights overhead illuminated the scene, casting a soft, inviting ambiance over the backyard. Will lined up the shot, raising his arm and tossing the ping pong ball towards the cups at the other end of the table. The ball bounced off the rim of a red solo cup and onto the grass below.

“You are so bad at this, man.” Ryan groaned.

“Fuck off dude.” Will retorted.

Will didn’t want to be at this party if he was being honest. He had a paper to finish and a project to work on. If it wasn’t for Gabe practically guilt-tripping him into coming, Will would be sitting comfortably in their dorm and, if he was being honest with himself, he would probably be playing video games instead of doing his homework.

Gabe and the rest of the guys knew he didn’t want to be there so they goaded him into playing beer pong, hoping that by the end of the first round, they’d have convinced him to stay. However, now nearing the end of the game, Will was anticipating the moment he got to leave. Standing in the backyard, amongst the smokers and those watching their game of pong, Will truly wanted to leave.

“Will, you’re up,” Jacob said, pulling Will from his brief daze. He looked down at the table, noticing that Ryan had gotten them one cup away from a win, which would allow Will to go home.

Will lined up the shot, taking this one more seriously than any past shot. He steadied his hand, aiming for the sole plastic cup at the back of the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Will spotted the sliding door open. His eyes flicked over to the entrance, stopping on your figure as you emerged into the dimly lit backyard. The soft glow of string lights illuminated your silhouette as you stepped onto the back porch, casting a gentle halo around you.

Will's hand paused in mid-air, the ping-pong ball balanced precariously on his fingertips. Gabe, Ryan, and Jacob groaned in frustration.

"What's wrong with you, Will? Take the shot!" Ryan groaned.

Will blinked, tearing his eyes away from the allure of the girl on the porch. “Sorry…just thought I saw something.”

The boys followed Will’s unwavering gaze to the porch, immediately spotting what had captured his attention. “That’ll make him want to stay.” Jacob said under his breath.

“Go talk to her.” Gabe said.

Ryan shook his head, clamping a hand on Will's shoulder. “No, no. Don’t try and get out of this right before Smitty and I are about to win.” Ryan said. “Finish the game first, then he can go flirt.”

“You’re robbing him of a chance at love.” Gabe challenged. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about being on the verge of losing in beer pong to Ryan who he knew would be bragging the whole night due to his ever-competitive spirit. However, he also really wanted to witness his friend attempt to chat up a girl.

“He can go talk to her after we win!” Ryan said.

Will cast another glance back at you on the porch, watching the shadows dance across your face, highlighting the curve of your cheekbones and the delicate arc of your smile. You seemed to be in deep conversation with a few other girls, giving Will peace of mind that he could quickly make the shot and then go talk to the pretty girl who had completely hijacked his attention.

However, with said attention now split, when Will took his shot he completely airmailed it. The game continued, Will casting occasional glances at you, relief washing over him when you remained on the porch. His turn came once again, this time putting his complete focus on the shot. With a flick of his wrist, Will sent the ball through the air, landing in the cup before Gabe or Jacob could attempt to interfere. Ryan pulled Will in, jumping with the blond nestled under his arm. When Ryan was done with his over-the-top celebrating, Will shoved him off.

“Can I go now?” He asks his friends.

Ryan rolls his eyes, while Gabe and Jacob wave him off, encouraging their friend to talk to the girl who had captured his attention. However, when Will turned to look at you, his eyes came up empty. You had disappeared from where Will had last seen you. He scanned the rest of the backyard in hopes that you had ventured further, however, Will’s heart sank as that was also futile.

He moved inside, searching the kitchen, then the living room for your presence. Or even the presence of your friends who could potentially tell him where you were. Despite his efforts, he found no one. Not you, not your friends. Will returned to the backyard, a sense of defeat washing over him. Will found his friends in another round of beer pong, this time with a girl having taken his spot as Ryan’s teammate.

Will stood next to the table, watching as Ryan guided the girl's arm, aiding her in making a shot. “She’s gone.” Will told them, voice tinged with disappointment.

Gabe exchanged a sympathetic look with Jacob before coming over and patting Will on the back. "Sorry, man,” Gabe said, sympathetically. “Maybe you’ll see her around?”

Will could only shrug, feeling as though he wasn’t going to. Regret gnawed at him, as well as a slight sense of resentment towards Ryan, as he couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve been if he had seized the moment when he had the chance.

Weeks passed since the party and Will was genuinely considering checking himself into a psych ward over you. Ever since the first glimpse, you’d woven yourself into the fabric of Will’s thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to shake you from his mind. Will was genuinely baffled at the way you’d become a constant presence in his mind. He’d always prided himself on being a fairly level-headed and rational guy, especially on the ice. However, he now found himself fixated on a girl he had only seen briefly.

He didn’t even know your name.

Will felt as though he had to find you, had to unravel the mystery of who you were and why you had such a powerful hold over him. There’d been several times when Will thought he’d seen you. Where he caught a glimpse of auburn locks and nearly ran up to them thinking it was you. But it never was.

During an away game in Maine, he thought he saw you. He spotted a cascade of auburn hair amidst the crowd and nearly completely abandoned the play at hand to get another glimpse. When Will brought it up to his linemates during the intermission, they could only laugh at his suggestion, reminding him of the miles between them and the sheer impossibility of you being there.

Will tried his best to push the idea of you from his mind, trying to force himself to move on and forget about the girl whom he’d decidedly conjured up in his mind. Will fully focused his mind on hockey and schoolwork, which is how he found himself in the library for the first time. He wandered the rows of tables, trying to find a relatively empty spot that he could settle into and work on his assignments.

Will’s eye briefly caught a glimpse of auburn hair but didn’t pay much mind to it. Every other time he’d believed he’d seen you, it turned out to be a doppelganger. But upon a second glance, he couldn’t believe it. He blinked, almost convinced that his bogged-down mind had conjured up the image of you. But as he took a closer look, Will realized it was indeed you—your hair cascading down her shoulders, the exact smile he’d seen on your face that night was back on your lips as you talked with your friends.

Will’s heart race quickened in his chest, the sound loud in his ears. As Will contemplates approaching you, a sudden realization washes over him that he hasn’t thought about what he’d say to you. In his mind, Will envisioned countless scenarios where your paths intersected, where your eyes met, and conversation flowed effortlessly. But in none of these dreams did he consider the stark reality of the moment where he would admit his feelings without the safety net of prepared words. Will grapples with the scenario, knowing that every second of hesitation is a missed opportunity. He can’t wait like he did last time.

Will finds his feet carrying himself in your direction before he knows it. Every last ounce of courage was summoned as he approached you. Will stops at the end of your table, yours as well as your friends' attentions turning to the blond.

"Um, hi," he started, his voice betraying the nervousness he felt. Your eyes, however, were soft as you waited for the blond to continue. "I couldn't help but notice… you seem familiar. Have we met before?"

That was a lie, obviously. Will knew they’d never interacted. But it was his sole attempt at making his presence seem natural. Your lips quirked into a small smile, and he felt a surge of relief at her response. "I don't think so," you replied, your voice soft and melodic. "I'm y/n."

Will’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your name, a name he had longed to know since the moment he first saw you. "I'm Will," he introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you, Will," you said, returning his smile. There was something about the way you said his name that sent a shiver down his spine.

Emboldened by your friendly demeanour, he decided to take a leap of faith. "Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime? Maybe we could… catch up on all the times we haven't met before," he added with a sheepish grin, hoping his attempt at humour would lighten the mood.

Your smile widened, and a playful glint danced in your eyes, appreciating the boldness of the boy who’d approached you. "I'd like that, Will," you said. "How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"That sounds perfect," he said, unable to contain the grin that spread across his face.

As you exchanged contact information, Will couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within him. Will said goodbye to you, as well as your friends that he’d, in all honesty, had forgotten were there. As Will walked away from your table, his heart felt like it was doing cartwheels in his chest. He couldn't believe what just happened — finally mustering the courage to approach you, and to his amazement, you were even more captivating up close. Will walked off, exhilaration coursing through his veins. So much so that he left the library and forgone his pending assignments, excited that he now knew your name.

[venzilanddeathcult]

BELATED NEW YEARS LIST OF COOL ALBUMS I DISCOVERED IN 2023 OH BOY THIS POST IS GONNA BE LONG

2023 was without a doubt the year ive listened to the most music in all of my life, so there's quite a hefty bit of albums to list, and i'll try to put them in a loose order of when i listened to them, but no promises!

I will limit it to one album per band, while noting the other ones i could have listened to within the text

Sadly, i didn't get around to hearing The Beggar by SWANS yet, so it won't make this list. that said heres the first one lol

SPIDERLAND

(By Slint)

Also known as the "how the fuck did a bunch of dudes in their early 20s make something this fucking great" album

I first listened to this one at a friend's house since he had it on vinyl, and halfway through the album i was losing my shit and repeatedly exclaiming loudly how fucking amazing the album was

It's very hard to put into words just how fucking good this album is, it's definitely one of the albums that put me onto Post Rock as a whole, and changed the way i view guitar playing pretty significantly

Every song feels immaculately constructed (the weakest one being the short instrumental that comes right before my personal favorite, Good Morning, Captain, the final song of the album that's linked above) and the raw emotional output won me over pretty early into my first listen. It is now my second favorite album of all time, good shit, i urge anyone reading who hasn't listened yet to give it a shot

Give their first album a listen too!

THE POD

(By Ween)

Not much i can say about this album i haven't said before i think, so here are the notes i took about it while listening to it for the first time (on a plane ride)

"Listened to this album during the plane ride Might be one of Ween's best It's so noisy and shitty and gross Only enchanced by the plane ride nausea and the very low energy feel the altitude gives It's Like if the Best album of all time got recorded on the shittiest hardware ever i'm Gonna listen to it a lot I can tell The noisiest part of the [referring to the last song here] song started on the most turbulent part of the ride And I was all for it"

I was already a Ween fan by this point, but hadn't listened to their earlier stuff, especially The Pod since every attempt at listening to it made me genuinely nauseous for some reason, but damn did braving through the album pay off. it's one of my favorite Ween albums and every time i get a fever i put it on to at least find some comfort in the wooziness. big recommendation

OCTAHEDRON

(By The Mars Volta)

I've been a Mars Volta fan since very early 2022, but i didn't get around to exploring their full catalogue until after the release of their comeback album later that same year, with Octahedron being the last of them (the rest i gave first listens to in 2022)

It's a decently strong change from their previous album (The Bedlam in Goliath), which was probably their most intense and chaotic album, although it definitely fell flat in a few aspects (Weirdly produced, some filler that could have been cut out that makes some stuff sound samey, something that wasn't much of an issue with Volta albums up until that TBiG)

It feels like it sort of harkens back to their earlier albums such as Frances the Mute and Tremulant while also going forward in a direction that makes sense considering 2012's Noctourniquet.

It's still not something as well constructed as their earlier albums, but it's a seriously good effort and worth listening to at least once, some seriously catchy and memorable songs in here

IN TIMES NEW ROMAN...

(By Queens Of The Stone Age)

I've been a fan of Queens Of The Stone Age for basically as long as i can remember, which only intensified in the pandemic as i would spend my days listening to Era Vulgaris on loop for hours and hours

There was not a single album from them that i didn't love, something about their entire style is extremely appealing to my ears, and when i heard they would release a new album i damn near shat myself and eagerly awaited for news

Then Emotion Sickness came out, with it's Era Vulgaris-reminiscent sound, ESPECIALLY the chorus and i couldn't be happier, there was absolutely no end to my hype

And thankfully, once the album came out, i realized these motherfuckers STILL have it in them to make a really fucking solid rock album, it seems they shed the slightly more polished sound of Villains and went back to that good old rougher sound they used to have, while not ditching some of the bells and whistles that made their reunion records work

Seriously solid album and i'd recommend it to anyone that enjoys this style of rock. good stuff

Church goes here

CONTEMPORARY MOVEMENT

(By Duster)

Shed away all of those memes about Sisyphus featuring a song off this album and underneath you will find a really emotional slowcore album with such an immaculate vibe i can't help but just. sink into it as i listen, if that makes sense

Before listening to this album i was a big fan of that Experimental Dust bootleg, but had never listened to their other stuff until i did

Almost every song is just oozing with this unmistakably Duster sound that is so perfectly melancholic you cant help but just be right there with them, it's some seriously great stuff, lovely album.

I also listened to Stratosphere, but i didn't listen to it much so i don't feel like it fits in this post, but rest assured it's a damn good time as well. Great album, very sad, should probably only listen to it in a good headspace but you do you

WISH YOU WERE HERE

(By Pink Floyd)

Enough said. its peak

same applies to Animals

A FUCK TON OF ALBUMS

(By SWANS)

No, really, just in 2023 i gave first listens to:

To Be Kind

The Seer

White Light From The Mouth of Infinity

Love of Life

Greed

The Great Annihilator

The Burning World

It's too much to talk about, but SWANS is one of my favorite bands, and honestly, if you're really curious, just shoot me a DM for thoughts on any of these albums haha, i'm always overjoyed to talk about music with people, especially SWANS.

loveless

(By my bloody valentine)

One of my biggest regrets is not listening to this album in full earlier than i did. It's seriously such a fucking incredible experience from start to finish that i can't even find much to say about it that hasn't been said before, just give it a listen

MT EERIE

(By The Microphones)

Sorry kids i havent listened to the glow pt 2 yet cant talk about it

I randomly discovered The Microphones on my youtube recommendations one day while listening to completely unrelated music, but clicked due to the artwork catching my interest and was completely enthralled by their melancholic acoustic sound followed by real intense percussion in some songs, and the flirting with experimentation that goes on throughout the entire album, it's seriously great and it touched me in a way not much music has. Big recommendation

IN RAINBOWS

(By Radiohead)

It's hard to say something about this album that hasn't been said already, so i won't.

Give it a listen, even if you're not a fan of their usual stuff, this album still stands out as a pretty interesting project and i enjoy it quite a lot

Also listened to from them this year: OK Computer and Kid A, heavily enjoyed both but In Rainbows remains my favorite

DOOLITTLE

(By Pixies)

Now for my most listened album of the year, spawned from the same night that got me into Spiderland (my 2nd most listened to album...go figure)

Having listened to Where Is My Mind? upon watching Fight Club, that was sadly the only Pixies song i stuck to for a while, but once i heard this album i kept on digging and digging through it to finally get what it is that made me enjoy this band's sound

It actually took me quite a fucking while to fully "get" this album, but the album slowly earned my full appreciation and became something i'd spend days listening to on loop, enjoying the ride from start to finish, it's a seriously good album, and if you wanna hear where some of that 90s rock dynamic came from, this and Surfer Rosa are considered some of the most notable precursors to it, so there you have it. give it a listen!

CLUBE DA ESQUINA

(By Milton Nascimento & Lô Borges)

LINK TO "Tudo O Que Você Podia Ser" FROM THE ALBUM (10 VIDEOS PER POST LIMIT LOL)

I struggle to choose a singular song to link, because every part of this album is crafted with such intricate musicianship and mix matching of Brazilian tradition with a foreign, beatles-esque flavor which is so smoothly and lovingly woven into the entire record. It's an absolute must for anyone interested in the music of Brazil, and one of my absolute favorite albums of all time. i recommend this one to every person i discuss music with, it's a seriously outstanding achievement of an album. give it a listen.

CENTER OF ATTENTION

(By InI)

LINK TO "No More Words" FROM THE ALBUM

I am a HUGE fan of the Jazz Rap style developed in the east coast during the 90s, and InI's shelved debut is one of those crowning examples i now look to when introducing people to the style. Right from the start the album sets you in it's laid back vibe, with it's nice groovy beats that tastefully sample old jazz records in a way that really adds to the album's whole atmosphere. Great album, give it a try.

DUMMY

(By Portishead)

LINK TO "Sour Times" FROM THE ALBUM

While regrettably not having listened to the rest of their output, this album still manages to blow me away every single time i listen to a song off it. There's something so lovable about the gloomy atmosphere paired with those spy movie ass guitars and absolutely breathtaking vocals. every member plays such a strong part in the album's atmosphere to the point you can pay attention to just one component and still be interested the whole way through. this album is so fucking good. give it a listen

SPEAKERBOXXX / THE LOVE BELOW

(By OutKast)

LINK TO "Church" FROM THE FIRST SIDE OF THE ALBUM

LINK TO "Love Hater" FROM THE SECOND SIDE OF THE ALBUM

Outkast has always been one of my favorites in rap, but i never took the time to listen to their biggest project, the double album Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, which is kind of two solo albums from Big Boi and Andre 3000 (in that order) packaged as an Outkast album, but god damn, they made it work really well.

EVERY single song in this album is a fucking banger (GhettoMusick being one of my favorites), the only thing holding it down are some skits that, while some of them are pretty funny, still leave you just wanting to get to the next track, but anyone who's listened to enough rap albums already knows how this stuff goes (first wu-tang album, anyone?)

One of my favorite rap albums, give it a shot, i guarantee at least 3 songs from it will be stuck in your head after.

PAUL'S BOUTIQUE

(By Beastie Boys)

LINK TO "The Sounds of Science" FROM THE ALBUM

Another one of such cases where every song is a banger, the songs are all so fucking awesomely creative i can't help but have a wide smile on my face every time i listen, the crazy amount of samples in this album really makes it quite a unique listen, especially as a Beatles fan which means The Sounds Of Science is enough whiplash to give J.K. Simmons a run for his money

Really fun album, give it a shot

MELLON COLLIE AND THE INFINITE SADNESS

(By The Smashing Pumpkins)

LINK TO "Tales Of A Scorched Earth" FROM THE ALBUM

I've been a moderate Smashing Pumpkins fan since i was a kid, with Siamese Dream being a favorite, and Drown being one of my favorite songs of all time at that point, but i never took the time to listen to the album that followed it, partly due to it being so massive, but once i took the plunge i spent the next 2 hours sitting in my chair absolutely floored by every song that came my way. This is a seriously impressive album from start to finish and it's one i'll cherish for years to come, every song feels like it's earned it's place, with both the soft and hard songs being equally interesting and ear catching.

Outstanding album, give it a listen.

THE FAT OF THE LAND

(By The Prodigy)

LINK TO "Breathe" FROM THE ALBUM

I'm usually not much of an electronic music guy, but this album really caught my attention after watching Dario Casali's playthrough of Half-Life of all things, where he said he would frequently listen to The Prodigy during development, so i decided to give it a shot, having heard some of their music (Particularly in the film Kick-Ass) and i spent the next week or so religiously listening to this album on loop, it's so endlessly replayable and just fun to listen to that i instantly became hooked. Aside from that, there's not much to say, it's a very fun, energetic album, give it a shot.

THE ENTIRE FUCKING SYSTEM OF A DOWN DISCOGRAPHY

(By...yeah)

LINK TO "Soil" FROM "System Of A Down"

LINK TO "Prison Song" FROM "Toxicity"

LINK TO "Fuck the System" FROM "Steal This Album!"

LINK TO "Radio / Video" FROM "Mezmerize"

LINK TO "Vicinity Of Obscenity" FROM "Hypnotize" (not sure why people dislike this one?)

Same deal as SWANS, too much to talk about, shoot me a dm about it if you're really that curious, i don't mind.

ALL OF IT IS FUCKING GREAT. GIVE THEM A LISTEN. ENOUGH SAID

F♯ A♯ ∞

(By Godspeed You! Black Emperor)

LINK TO "East Hastings" FROM THE ALBUM

It's hard for me to put into words what listening to this album for the first time did for me. It's one of the most atmospheric, wonderful things i've ever had the pleasure of listening to, all 3 songs in this masterpiece keep me entranced until the very last second, including the very unnecessarily long silence at the end of Providence for the hidden song. I have yet to listen to their next album, which i've been told by a mutual is even better, so i'm very excited for that. Give this one a listen.

MARQUEE MOON

(By Television)

LINK TO "See No Evil" FROM THE ALBUM

god i am not a fan of this album cover

that being said, this album is a pretty nice, post punkish record which reminds me a lot of 80s Talking Heads, but i don't have much to say about it. it's simply a good album, and i recommend it heavily. give it a shot

THE UNNATURAL WORLD

(By Have A Nice Life)

LINK TO "Guggenheim Wax Museum" FROM THE ALBUM

I fucking love Deathconsciousness, but stayed at that album for a while, until, for whatever reason, during my initial playthrough of Dark Souls 1 (great game, by the way, enjoyed it lots) i decided to give it a spin and wound up listening to it for basically the rest of the game. It has this gloomy vibe HANL is known for, but it feels like its played a lot more straight than Deathcon, it feels darker, i dunno.

Very good follow-up, even if i think the previous album is overall stronger, this one is still a great listen

LEAVES TURN INSIDE YOU

(By Unwound)

LINK TO "Radio Gra" FROM THE ALBUM

I regrettably struggle to find much to say about this album, which is a shame because i really do love it a lot.

It has this sound that is at times reminiscent of Slint, which made me immediately fall in love, while still standing out as it's own thing, it's a very good fucking album from start to finish, but that's all i can say about it really, i need to listen to it more, and Unwound's other stuff.

Big recommendation right here

FRANKENCHRIST

(By Dead Kennedys)

LINK TO "MTV - Get Off The Air" FROM THE ALBUM

Dead Kennedys is one of my favorite bands (Old Testament DK anyways, Dead Kennedys without Jello is kinda wack, sorry!), and their previous album, Plastic Surgery Disasters remains one of my favorite punk rock records to date, but i had not yet listened to the latter half of their discography, something i now regret, since it's equally as good.

Frankenchrist is a bit of detour from PSD's VERY harsh sound, sounding a little more rounded, less noisy if that makes sense, but Jello Biafra's biting social commentary and witty writing remains intact through it all and makes for an album as entertaining and awesome as the rest of their work. Seriously great, listen to it.

MAGGOT BRAIN

(By Funkadelic)

LINK TO "Maggot Brain" FROM THE ALBUM

Having started my musical ambitions as an aspiring Funk guitarist (part of why my right hand strums so loosely haha), Funkadelic was always on my radar, with their debut album being one of the albums i listened to the most and looked for inspiration in during the pandemic, but for some reason, i never opted to listen to Maggot Brain until this year, which, as is per usual for albums i dont listen to, was a big fucking mistake, since this album is filled with bangers from start to finish. I love it to death.

An absolute must-listen to any funk rock fans

AT ACTION PARK

(By Shellac)

LINK TO "Crow" FROM THE ALBUM

Being a fan of Steve Albini's work both in production and with Big Black, listening to Shellac eventually was a no-brainer, but i procrastinated on it until a particularly lengthy hospital visit where i had enough time to kill and listened to this album, being taken in by that noisy goodness until the album finished. I struggle to find something to say, but the song structures in this album are so weird and they don't hesitate to stay longer than usual and linger on some chords which gives songs this really punchy vibe i can't describe. Great album.

AND FINALLY....

UNDERTOW

(By TOOL)

LINK TO "Prison Sex" FROM THE ALBUM

I'm a huge fan of TOOL, but never listened to their debut until i saw it on a mutual's top albums list, which convinced me i should give it a shot, and so i did!

...On the fucking last hour of 2023

I shit you not, the album ended in the last fuckign MINUTE of the year. 23:59. Finished listening and immediately got up to await the countdown.

That aside, you can really see how they went from this to Ænima, as it has a lot of the harder parts of that album, with less...esoteric(?) peculiarities inbetween, while still being a really good fucking album and enjoyable from start to finish, there wasn't a single song that had me bored. A worthy album to finish the year with...and this list!

FINALLY finished writing this absolute behemoth of a post, and i hope it at least gets one person to check these albums out.

Here's to a great 2024 for all! Thanks for reading!

[godzexperiment]

sampling of radio station nix chaos/just modern verse thoughts

"I am not an car enthusiast- not an car hater like they serve purposes. I hate them though, like there is no reason I should know how to jump on the hood and scramble back off the car so well." Nix studied the tally marks of the days encounters on his hand. Wasn't even that many listeners at the moment. So he really was kind of just talking to himself while delaying an ad read. "Which sounds so weird like oh this guy is so used to motorized vehicles seeming to personally magnetize towards him; he's like the frog in frogger embodied." Eyes glancing at the time; setting up his next set of songs and trying to locate his energy drink can. ----------- He was perched on the back of the chair; wings stretched out before tucking close. Deciding to fall backwards, hooking his legs so just dangled upside down. It was almost time to pack up and head home. Took him an second to realize what song he'd accidentally added into the program. Entirely falling off, fumbling to shut it off- turning the mic on as he cursed himself out in multiple languages. Had accidentally added one of his songs into the program by accident. Not the worst thing in the world. But it wasn't like meant to be shared with whoever was listening to the radio at this hour. Playing something else as scoured, deleted any others that might have accidentally made it in. Realizing the mic was on and sighing. "So uh, tired mistakes only human mistakes here folks. That song was far too slow paced and not meant to be in the list."

-----------

"So most people ignore me; that's how I like it and even some of the most up in your face buy what I'm selling avoid me." Spinning his knife around on his pointer finger while talking. "Anyways that means it takes like really determined souls with extra irritability to bother me generally." Nix had gone prompted into the topic by somebody that reminded him of it. Calling in with what had been quite some nonsense. "I'm just trying to get where I am headed, on time as this guy spots me and I guess decided I needed the speech right? I'm just like okay what speech is this guy seeking to give me." Eyes rolling as he recounted the situation. "Started with the ole are you religious- into that I should really think about seeking Heaven out." Another twirl of the knife on his finger before tossing it up with his finger; catching it. "I'm like ah okay it's this flavor of encounter; guess I was extra tired and I just was like you're sort of in the way of that endeavor." ---------- All he had wanted to do- was stay home; yet managed to drag himself out anyways. Empty building, only the noises of the electricity and other environmental noise. Normally so welcome but he just brought the can out of the backpack- he hated them but he'd needed an way to carry shit. Sipping at it as settled into the room; immediately collapsing into the chair. "Allfuckingrighty." Scowling at his reflection in an monitor. Bag dropped to mostly under the desk. He could do this, had to do it and it might also slightly help curb the whirlwind eating at him. Turning the mic on, off the idle tunes and automatic ad reads. "So I just got in and how do we feel about 15 minute multi parted folk punk songs?" Joking, though he so was sorely tempted to put the idea in his mind on. Be an little kind to any souls that might be bothering to listen however. "We're actually starting off with some rock; to counter balance the music that was playing before I got here but just saying if anybody is down I can oblige." Clicking play on the music so far sorted out after muting. Down went some of the energy drink. Trying to ignore the annoying tastes that were only part of the product thanks to stupid angelic taste buds. ---------- Music was blaring; echoing in every room both second floor and not. Every little project abandoned for the moment. As Nix's fingers brushed along tops of bottles- hovering over the whole space in general thoughtfully. Didn't take long to pluck one that seemed tempting. Open, long testing sip- was the moments pick of fitting the energy. Swaying as moved away from the spot. Beginning to move along with the music, let it fill up the space inside as well. Not long before was drinking and bouncing along in only the way he could. Twirling around with precise, stupid would have dizzied anybody else type of speed. And when the bottle was empty- it got tossed gently into the nearby bin for cleaning to recycle later. While he let his wings out, spread then tucked close as he spun. Eventually the songs playing stopped and so did he. Moving to turn some more on- while he did something more constructive like read about history. ---------- It was so incredibly stupid and bit of an waste of supplies. Yet that person, only one he'd really known for ages was put onto the paper. And then once finished- he took one of his lighters to it. Watching it being eaten up. Not in fear of the heat or being burnt; watching before dropping it into the nearby metal bin. Petulant middle fingers skyward at the ceiling, floor above his head and full awareness the action was to empty nothingness. Flicking the lighter an few times before pocketing it. Okay, okay maybe he needed to get away from the building. Before got eaten up by his insides. And he found his phone- hit one of his few contacts. Sending an text inquiring if they would be interested in late night ice cream. The yes had him quickly grabbing the nearest jacket. Rushing out into the night as texted where to meet him. Felt an bit cruel using their sunshine personality to warm up his abyss.

He was going to pay for the ice cream though. Be very present and attentive. Didn't light up- he chewed some gum instead while walking along. Ruffling up his hair as gave an little glance into an window he passed. Checking the time and his phone to respond to he of course didn't mind how they were dressed. After had been an I'll be coming from an party text.

[starsscribble]

Broken Doll

Summary: Steve and Bucky have to now live with the consequences after they have broken you. Broken. That’s what you were. That’s what they wanted. Or at least that’s what they thought. Because here you are now. There’s no fighting. No hateful looks. No spiteful words. You are obedient. Following every command without question. You don’t even do anything when they are gone. Just sit in your room staring out the barred window. They left the doors unlocked. Keys to one of the cars. But you don’t try to leave anymore. You're resigned to this life you were forced into. You only move to use the bathroom. Maybe even to cook. But it’s loveless. It’s lifeless. Not like when you lived at the compound. There is no music. No cute little dance. No off-key singing. It’s just nothing. You’re a perfect doll. The doll of their making and they hate it.

Returning home late at night Bucky stays in the living room as Steve goes to your room. He doesn't knock. Just gently push open the door. You’re still awake. Still sitting on your window bench. Eyes fixed on the raindrops running down the glass pane.

“Y/n?” Steve calls, making you turn around. You stand. In the early days, you used to throw things at him and Bucky. Forcing them to clear the room out of anything you could throw. Now the room is filled with things once more. In the hopes that you will interact with them. Like the Switch. You loved video games when in the compound. You used to play with Peter in the common area all the time. But the console is still on your dresser. The box hasn’t even been touched. He feels your lips pressed against him. Blue eyes looking down at you. You forced a smile as you welcomed him back home. He sighs. He can’t stop comparing you to before.

“Come with me.” He says turning away from you. He doesn’t see the fear in your eyes. Worried that you upset him somehow. Scared that you will be thrown into the basement once more. But you follow him into the living room where Bucky is.

The brunette-haired man is holding something in his arms. Steve clears his throat making Bucky look away from whatever is there. He smiles at you as he moves closer.

“We got you something. Something that you will love, doll.” At least they hope. Both men watch you as Bucky pulls out the white kitten from his jacket. You used to talk about how you loved cats. How you befriended all the strays wherever you went. You wanted to get a cat when you lived at the compound. You begged Tony. For a whole year. But he never once gave you the ok. Bucky gently hands you the kitten. They watch as you stroke its white damp fur. For a second they can see your old light shining in your eyes. But all too quickly you snuff it out. Handing the kitten back to Bucky you speak.

“You can take it to the shelter tomorrow. A young kitten like that will find a home in no time.” You turn away from them and head to the kitchen. “Are you hun-”

“The kitten is staying,” Steve speaks through gritted teeth. Bucky was sure this would work. They were sure it would help give you your spark back. You stop and turn back to both of them.

“If that is what you want Steve. Who am I to argue?” Y/n! He wants to scream. You are Y/n. You argue with him all the time. Or at least you used to. The arguments were not big. Just which cereal brand was better. They were stupid and silly. And he just wanted them back.

“Now are you hungry? I didn’t cook since we have leftovers.”

The cat. Who’s name you had no opinion on. Even when they asked. Almost begged you to name the white furball. Got named Alpine. She seemed to love you. She would meow at your door. You would feed her. Change litter. On some of the rare occasions, the boys caught you petting her. In your room. When she sat in your lap. It was more than what you were doing before. It was a start hopefully in the right direction.

It’s just Bucky at home today. Steve is away on a mission. Alpine was curled up beside him as he scratched her head. He muted the tv when you entered the living room. You have willingly left your room. He hadn’t called you. You were here by choice. Maybe it was because Bucky was always the softer one. He dished out less punishment in the earlier days. Maybe you felt more comfortable near him. He moved over on the couch to give you space as he pats the cushion beside him. You take a seat. Alpine is in the middle; acting as a buffer. Bucky studies you. Your hands pull at the shorts you have on.

“Did I do something?” You ask not looking at him. His brow furrowed. You haven’t done anything wrong. You listened to their every word. So where was this coming from?

“Why do you think that pretty girl?” He brushes some of your hair behind your ear.

“Steve is mad at me. I know.” He sees the tears run down your cheek. “Please!” You beg. Head finally turned to look at him. “Please tell me what I did! So I can fix it. I don’t want Steve mad. I….I…” Your sobbing cuts you off. Bucky reacts. Alpine is forced from her spot as he pulls you into his arms. You did nothing. It was them. They had broken you. Broke you so much. Broken you into so many pieces. That they are trying to put you back together. But they don’t know-how.

“I’m scared.” You cling to him. “Steve is upset. And if I don’t fix whatever I did I’m going in the basement.” Your grip his shirt tight. “I don’t want to go back there, Buck. Please. Please tell me what I did.” Your begging breaks his heart. Gently he pulls you away. Right hand resting on your cheek as he brushes tears away.

“You’ve done nothing wrong. And as for the basement, I won’t let Steve put you back there.” He doesn’t know if you believe him. He doesn’t know what’s on your mind. Not anymore. But you nod. You allow him to wipe your tears away. Allow him to hold you. Rocking you back and forth until all the tears stop. You stay with him. Watching whatever is on. Until dinner where you get up to cook.

Steve comes back a few days later. Bucky had sent you to bed. Even after he reassured you multiple times you still worry. Scared that when Steve got back you would be punished. Bucky greeted his lover at the door. They talk. About the mission. About the team. About how they had finally marked you as dead. It had been two years and the Avengers finally gave up your search. It should have made Bucky smile. No one could take you from them but a frown stayed on his face. Steve looked towards his partner.

“What’s wrong?” He asked sitting his boots to the side of the couch to be put up later. Bucky takes a breath. He doesn’t want to fight with Steve. But he also wants to know why you think he was upset.

“Did you say anything to Y/n before you left?” He watches as the blonde thinks back on their last interaction. Nothing stuck out. He told you that he loved you. That he would miss you. Kissed you on the head before he left. But that wasn’t what Bucky was talking about. And he knew it. So he shook his head. The brunette nods. A sigh leaving his mouth as he sits to face Steve.

“For some reason, Y/n thought you were upset at her. That she had done something wrong.”

“She hasn’t!” Steve exclaims. Bucky nodded.

“I know. But Steve. She’s…” He looks away from the blonde. She’s broken. He wants to say. But Steve already knows that. “She’s sensitive to changes. It could have been your tone of voice. Or body language.” The blonde groans.

“She never used to be like this. She-”

“She used to be whole.” Steve simply nods in agreement. He couldn’t be mad at you. You learned to predict their moods. Try and make them happy to lessen the damage done to you. It was on them. Not you.

[bakugohoex]

hi love 💖💖 again congrats so much on 1k, you deserve it + the world!!! may i please request nsfw #10 with eren? heheheh thank you 🥰

“my mics on baby, let them hear your moans”

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

cw: modern au, language, nsfw (voyeurism, choking, nipple play, thigh riding (slight), kissing, daddy kink, degradation, praise and unprotected sex)

word count: 1800+

a/n: hey baby, thank you so much, i hope you liked this my lovely, next one coming up is some levi fluff

summary: in which a night of boredom, waiting for eren to finish his game, leads you to finding yourself sitting right on his lap, letting all his friends here your moans

1k event masterlist

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist 

Eren’s voice boomed throughout the apartment, you had only just put away the dishes and wanted to spend some quality time with your favourite boy. But it seems that he had other ideas in mind, with the sound of his shouting at Jean and Armin to give him some backup. You didn't ask about the game, refusing to even bother to understand the entertainment of the shooting game. 

Normally, you wouldn't question it but the long stares you'd been giving him since you both came home, the small touches on his shoulder and arms. You had been craving his touch ever since he left in the morning, his wandering hands having done nothing but your heart pulse for more contact.

You were irritated, wanting to have him inside of you but all he seemed to care about was how Jean had left to get some other items instead of saving Eren. You found yourself watching him shout for a moment before finally going to the sofa where he sat with the controller in hand. The loading screen was up, knowing he was about to start a new game, his headset across his head and a slouched position allowing his arms out across the sofa as he was ready to be sat on.

“You okay, baby?” He spoke muting his mic for you to say whatever you wanted. Instead of speaking you sat right on top of him, legs kneeling beside his own as you faced him straddling his lap. His face looked confused, but he loved seeing you needy and wanting to be held so kept you on him. 

Your arms moved to his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder, you heard Armin shout to press the play button, Eren putting his mic back on as he continued to shout to Armin to tell him to fuck off. “Y/n, baby you okay?” He softly spoke into your ear as you continued to rest on his lap.

Your actions spoke louder as you began to grind against his clothed cock, you gave him the sweetest look filled with heart eyes but the way your body rutted against his own made him let out a groan. “B...baby.”

“Eren what the fuck, Jean just got killed again.” You heard through the mic again, knowing Jean would get pissed at Eren being distracted, Eren tried to keep a much calmer composure, but your relentless movement across his semi hard cock made his mouth water. 

“I w...want you, daddy.” You moaned into his ear, away that his mic was on the other side of his face, if your voice had been any louder, you knew the two boys on the other side would’ve heard you in an instant. 

Eren’s eyes widened at the sound of your moan, having an idea in mind, probably a terrible on at that. He grabbed your jaw, letting the controller fall to the side as he let his thumb play to at least do something without Armin and Jean shouting at him. Your breath fanned his own as he gave a soft kiss, his hand still holding your jaw in place, you continued to try to grind against him already feeling your coated underwear. Slick ready to engulphed Eren’s own cock. 

“Such a little cumslut, waiting all day for Daddy to fuck you.” He whispered through the kiss, he was almost glad Armin and Jean were arguing knowing his voice was inaudible. 

You gave a hefty moan, before Eren moved his fingers away from your jaw and down to his joggers. Quickly untying his joggers and lifting your ass up to take his joggers off, you could see the hard indent of cock, your mouth already waiting. “You're going to just stare at it baby.” He teased waiting for you to take his boxers off yourself.

The way you bit your lip in hesitance made him go wild, watching as your fingers brushed against his cock, urning a low groan. His eyes had moved back to the game, starting to properly play it as you grabbed the waist band, moving his boxers away in a swift move. His cock curved upwards, already hard and the precum oozing out ready to feel your insides. 

His fingers went under the hoodie you were wearing, the shorts being ripped apart in an easy aggressive move. His finger skimmed across your underwear, the slick already dampening the pair before he motioned for you to lift yourself up for him to get rid of the item of clothing. “Aren’t you a good little slut?” He whispered, making you become weak at the feeling of your clit against his exposed thigh. 

“I’m a good s...slut.” You moaned through Eren’s shaky leg, he paid little attention to your movements, concentrating on killing the person about to attack Jean. Even with his cock hard and dripping for your cunt, he couldn't just leave his friends to die. 

He heard you continue to whine before moving closer to his cock, you pulled the hoodie away from your body, leaving you in your bra, his hand moved behind your body quickly undoing it as he watched you toss it to the side. “Use me up then.” He kissed your neck watching how your naked frame was for his eyes. Your hand gilded under his shirt, he quickly took it off with one hand letting your hands roam up and down his chest. Your mouth moving to his neck, to suck at it, the swell of your clit just touched his cock, feeling the urge to put himself right into you. 

You sucked at his neck, a feeble moan coming from his lips, “Eren what the fuck was that?” You both heard Jean’s question choosing to ignore it, you came up on your knees and Eren knew exactly what your next move was going to be. 

He saw your hand clasped his cock, cum falling onto your fingers, he already knew he was going to make you suck it. “Wait.” He muttered.

He took the headset from his head and put it on your own. You gave a hazy look, confused, before gesturing for you to carry on. You assumed it was just for him to be able to kiss your shoulder more easily, with the mic muted.

You ignored the metal on your head, sinking into his cock, a loud moan erupting your mouth. “Da...daddy.”

Armin and Jean were in shock at what they had just heard, your whimpers and moans coming from Eren’s headset. They could barely speak, and even if they wanted to stop listening, their bodies refused to turn the game off, listening into the whole ordeal. 

“Taking me so well babygirl.” Eren watched as you came back up struggling to fit all of him inside of you. You had sunk back down your thighs being able to touch his own knowing you’d reached his base with a soreness. “Good girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m a g...good girl.” You moaned again, his hands firmly on your waist as he began thrusting back and forth into your cunt. “Ple...please more, daddy...f...faster.” 

“Suck your fingers.” You complied whining and whimpering at the taste of his cum coating your throat and mixing with your saliva. 

Your moaning was heaven to his ears, loving the feeling of your tight cunt around his thick cock. “Such a fucking slut, you want me to go deeper, you want my cock to s...split you open.” Eren’s pace quickened continuing to thrust upwards to accommodate for your needs. 

“F...faster, pl...please.” You whined with the mic still on, the sound of your mewls and whimpers increasing. Eren’s hand moved to grab your throat, making you face him with a sadistic look on his face.

“My mics on baby, let them hear your moans.” You were too far in to even care if Jean and Armin were listening in, the two boys had definitely heard the statement, becoming flushed at how they had been listening in. “Moan my name baby.”

You reciprocated, “Ere...Eren.” 

His voice rolled off your tongue, his hand still around your pretty little neck, he loved the feeling of his firm veiny grip across your smooth neck. Every night he would leave more and more bruises across your neck, make everybody see the marks he gave you. “Tell them who you...belong to.” He grunted, sweat mixing in with every thrust.

Your chest was right in his eyeline, beginning to skim his tongue around your nipples. A coat of his saliva across each nipple before he began sucking on the spots just above your nipples. Harsh red and purple forming as heard you speak, “you, da...daddy, I’m you...yours.”

“My little cumdump.” He groaned at the taste of leaving bruises against your skin but also the feeling of cum build up. 

“C...cum, please, da...daddy.” You spoke breathlessly, almost pleading with the tears filling your eyes. He watched as your chest heave, wiping the stray tears before he spoke. 

Eren became quicker in his thrusts, grabbing your waist for more access to each inch of your warm cunt. “Cum for daddy.” He commanded and in an instant the coil in your stomach fell, cumming right on his cock. Eren could see the cum seep out of your cunt, your loud heavy moan being music to his ears. After his own couple of sloppy thrusts through the cum, he gushed right inside of you. 

Your cum mixing together inside of your stomach, seeing a slight bulge at the feeling of being entirely stuffed. Eren looked at you, your tired and tear-filled eyes, you remained on his cock, shuffling on his soft cock. The smell of sweat and cum mixed through the air as Eren took the headset off your head. 

“You enjoy the show then.” Eren cocked his head back, letting your head rest against his shoulders, one arm firmly on you and the other talking through the mic. The game had been disregarded by the loading screen on the television and the sighs of heavy breaths coming from the other end. 

“Fuck.” You both heard, you assumed it was Jean going from how loud he normally was compared to Armin. 

“Eren, you should let us join next time?” Jean proposed, Eren’s jaw clenched at Jean’s action, glad that the boy hadn't been in the room to actually see the events that occurred.

Eren gave a loud scoff, “you fucking wish Kirschtein, she’s all mine, aren’t you.” He put the mic to your tired mouth as you gave a low grumble.

“All yours.” You whispered tiredly, your sweaty hair going across his own chest, his own hair having been tied back but the stray strands that encased his forehead stuck across. Eren didn't bother listening to the rest of the heavy breathes from his two friends. 

He wanted to know if the events that had just occurred made you feel embarrassed or hate him but at his question you gave him a lazy look, “i don't care, it was fun.”

He shook his head, kissing the top of your head. He knew the two of you should probably get cleaned up but with you in his arms he felt at peace. Resting his head against your own he felt comforted with your presence and the true knowing that you were his entirely.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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[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.

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 5 “Drunken Fart Contest” [Episode List] After one of their usual nights out with their friends, Dave and another bud, Adam, end up being really drunk. Luckily, it was Tim’s turn to be the designated driver, so he’s perfectly able to drive. The two drunk friends, however, are really, really gassy…

Drunken Fart Contest

2:00 a.m. The party was getting out of control, as predicted. Almost everyone was completely drunk or confused. I heard some plates breaking in the kitchen: good thing this is not my house. Whose birthday was again? The music is still loud, playing through some speakers carefully placed in strategic locations of the room as some dizzy guests danced –or, more precisely, staggered to the rhythm of it.

Whatever was going to happen next, I didn’t really care: it was my turn to drive, so I was literally the only sane guy at the party. My pals asked me to take them out of there around 1:30 a.m., but since we were having fun, we lost the track of time. I eventually found both Dave -you know him, and Adam, another friend of mine, around my age as well. They probably had alcohol instead of blood in their veins by far.

“You’re such a cock-blocker!” Adam hissed at me, since I –according to him- ruined every chance with a girl he was hitting on. Too bad this girl passed out 15 minutes ago and my tipsy friend didn’t seem to notice at all. Oh well, it’s a dirty job, but somebody has to do it.

Dave was definitely more collaborative: he had this silly smile drawn on his face, probably because he made out with some hot girl in the other room. His sweat-soaked shirt was partly unbuttoned too, so maybe he was heading second base without even noticing.

“Ok guys, here we go…”

We eventually reached my car, parked just outside the loud house. Some fellow guests were lying on the grass in the front-yard, either laughing or smoking: they were fine, some of them even said ‘hi’ to me as I walked past them. I opened the rear door of the car on and forced Adam to go inside, who muttered something about how I ruined everything with the woman of his dreams. He then tripped and fell in the car, lying on his stomach, looking more like a corpse.

“He’s dead…” Dave simply commented. Not very helpful.

Adam’s place was our first stop. Our houses weren’t really far away from each other, but I tend to drive slowly, especially during weekend nights, for obvious reasons. Adam, still lying on his belly, probably passed out. I checked on him via the rear-view mirror, unwillingly triggering my gay senses: all I could see was his grey skinny jeans sagging, exposing his black underwear, the latter hugging his surprisingly bubbly butt.

I ignored that vision and turned to Dave, my co-pilot and the guy in charge for the music. He was fine, better than my other friend, that’s for sure. We chatted a bit, as he noticed that I was tired, keeping me focused on the street. After a while, however, he chuckled and lowered the volume of the radio, almost setting it to mute.

“I think you’ll like this song more, listen…” he said, with his well-known smirk.

I knew what was going to happen. I was actually surprised that it was only happening now, considering that alcohol always made Dave really gassy. He spread his legs a bit, visibly pushing one out and glanced at me one last time before the “thunder” almost made me swerve.

The sound was loud, even though it was partially muffled by the (lucky) car seat. It was very dry-sounding and manly, almost like a long, enormous morning fart.

“Aw… come on…” Adam muttered, as Dave’s flatulence literally woke him up.

My gassy friend laughed as he leaned a bit. He was basically indirectly farting in my face, not even caring about the presence of our friend. I had to keep my eyes on the road, trying not to admire my friend’s denim-covered ass. The fart lasted around 14 seconds, one of his longest blasts I believe. It was followed by his friendly laughter as he gently patted my shoulder, as if he every time wanted to make sure that he was ok with me, my weird fetish and that I had nothing to worry about; and I always appreciate his gentle mannerisms, despite the rudeness of his manly rips.

The smell hit us all soon, especially because the windows were locked. Bad choice. It was already too disgusting even for me, a nose-killing stench mixed with the already awful aroma from our sweat-soaked shirts.

“You’re disgusting, Dave!” my other friend said from the back seat, trying not to laugh.

“Thanks, Ady! Glad you appreciated!”

Dave leaned a bit again and ripped another loud toot, lasting only a couple of seconds this time. Truly a proud farter, indeed. Adam clapped his hands sarcastically, laughing a bit.

“Sure… really impressive…” he said, still lying on his stomach.

A moment silence, then another fart begun, but it was not from Dave. Maybe it was the dizziness, the alcohol, but Adam started to rip one too. I checked again on him via the rear-mirror and I could see his bubbly butt erupting this extremely loud, high-pitched fart. It started kinda weak, only to become louder and manlier as seconds passed. Dave laughed, knowing that I was living both in a nightmare and in a beautiful dream at the same time, visibly amused by my weird situation. As the blast continued, Adam slowly wiggled his butt left and right, the tone of the fart changing a bit; he laughed as his 12-seconds rip started to fade into silence.

Now it was Dave the one clapping his hands. “Bravo!” he commented, as we all bursted into laughter. I didn’t know if it was because of my boner or the farts, but the car’s temperature seemed to raise a lot so I had no choice but to lower the car windows, also because the smell was getting too unbearable (yes, even for me). I felt the colder wind from outside brushing through my hair, my nostrils still sensing Dave and Adam’s farts.

Seconds passed, but the smell was, strangely enough, still there, all around my face. As I heard my friends’ laughing almost to tears, I understood why; I couldn’t hear it at first because of the sounds of the traffic, but they both started ripping one big fart at the same time the moment I rolled down the window; once I noticed it, I heard the sound too: it was insane, out of this world; two giant farts being ripped at unison. Dave pointed his index finger up as the farts continued, as if he was some kind of orchestra leader, and looked at me with a smirk, knowing that I was enjoying every moment of that gassy jam session.

I didn’t even know how much time passed this time, maybe 20 seconds. They laughed again, finally ending their unusual fart concert and complimented each other. I wish the trip lasted longer. I was ridiculously aroused. Was this a fart-contest? Because I’m pretty sure they’re both won.

Eventually, we arrived to Adam’s place; he was feeling better as he got up on his own, adjusted his hair a bit and patted his hands on our shoulders. “Thanks for the lift, cock-blocker!” he said, punching my shoulder in a friendly manner.

We made sure he got into his house safely and then headed to Dave’s. Only a couple of minutes later, I parked in front of his garage, both listening to some more music from the radio before ending the night-out. We kept chatting about the party, the host’s poor taste in music, but it was getting really late and the we didn’t want to wake up the entire neighbourhood.

“Alright, Tim. See ya tomorrow I guess…”

We bro-fisted, more than aware of how cheesy that was, and he opened the door.

“Oh, by the way…” again that smirk. “I am the fart master…”

He got out of the vehicle and closed the door behind him. Dave then squeezed his butt in loose jeans, almost sagging, through the car window a bit, and proceeded to rip yet another loud fart, this time just for me. I didn’t even time to react as I felt the warm gas engulfing the entire car, the smell becoming once again unbearable; it sounded like a loud chainsaw and lasted about 8 seconds.

My friend was just as surprised as me by the blast’s loudness and quickly got his butt out of my car, as some of the neighbours’ dogs started barking, hilariously annoyed by Dave’s fart.

“Oh my…” we both muttered, laughing.

I immediately started the car as my gassy friend rushed inside the house (this time he didn’t forget his house-keys). As I drove back to my house, I couldn’t help but smile the whole time: my best friends are gassy idiots; and that’s perfect. But Dave… well, he’s the best of all, farts or not. Whether the case, I really should plan a road-trip with him some day. And just thinking about that made my dick aroused again…

End of Episode 5

[paradisewithinpain]

random haikyuu headcanons cause i can

there might be some time skip spoilers in here fyi

tendou listens to mother mother religiously and somehow put goshiki on it too

suga was the type of kid who picked up bugs that made their way into the house and put them back outside

kenma hates conflict and mutes his mic when the people he plays with argue

daichi cannot stand the texture of applesauce

bokuto's favorite book is the sun is also a star

ushijima watches hallmark and finds it endearing

makki and matsukawa both own maid dresses and wear them at least once a month to gain more followers on tik tok

atsumu really wants to learn how to cook so he can spend more time with osamu so he learns recipes to try and impress him

aone has a baby cousin that absolutely adores him and is the only reason he hasn't lost hope when interacting with kids

akaashi draws hands to make him feel better about his own

sakusa despises black coffee despite his demeanor

hinata and natsu have weekly sibling nights where they just sit and talk

iwaizumi doesnt believe in spirits or anything but everytime the seijoh four go ghost hunting, ghosts always mess with him and only him

ennoshita sleeps with two specific pillows and cannot sleep without both of them

fukanaga tells jokes because he has a really heard time conversating with others

kiyoko looks good in any color

ukai once dyed his hair red on a dare and it actually looked good

omimi took a summer job at an amusement park and he absolutely loved it

lev can sing but nobody takes him seriously when he says it but is too nervous to actually sing

akagi refuses to bite into his string cheese, he doesnt care how dirty his hands are, he has to peel it

kyoutani's (maddog) older sister (pretty sure it's canon) is the only person who's genuinely seen him cry because she's the only person he feels comfortable with

tanaka and nishinoya once made out as 'bros' and that was when they both realized they liked guys

terushima once tried jumping a fence and cut his leg really bad you could see the bone, the scar runs from mid calf all the way to his knee

yachi hosted an exchange student when she was in her last year of junior high and the exchange student was her gay awakening

oikawa has pushed kids off the swing because they said something bad about his nephew

aran's younger brother never grew out of his 'my brother is the best' phase, even after the time skip

inuoka has really good fashion sense and can make an outfit out of anything given article of clothing

kindaichi has a pretty diverse music taste to the point where he'll have my chemical romance and cavetown in the same playlist

kinoshita's 99% of the time fiddling with something because he can't sit still

kohona grew to love the whole 'jack of all trades, master of none' thing because his little sister who told him that people who were really good at one thing were boring

suna dances like a piece of cardboard

yamaguchi made a post holding a french fry next to tsukishima with the caption, 'i can't spot the difference' and it blew up. tsukishima didn't talk to him for a week

takeda really likes sparkling water but absolutely despises soda

alisa talks to the younger generation about mental and health issues especially since she's gone through quite a lot as a model

kageyama can be found talking about life and himself sometimes but in reality he's talking to his grandfather

kunimi and his sister go driving a lot and just vibe together

semi once sang the national anthem for a school event and when people came up to him and complimented him, he nearly started crying

saeko has a fat crush on natasha romanoff

tsukishima hates absolute silence so he always has music or white noise playing in the background no matter what

osamu once got food poisoning but forgot to throw out the food so he ate it again the next day and got food poisoning again

reon does yoga and is really flexible but doesnt show off

kuroo cannot flirt to save his life

asahi has watched Harry Potter at least 6 times and read the series more times than he can count but is absolutely terrified of aragog

komori is a really good fighter and got into quite a few fights in order to defend his cousin when they were younger

yamamoto once drank an entire gallon of water in one sitting then threw it up right after

narita has a podcast where he reads bedtime stories in english and he has over 15k subscribers worldwide

yahaba acts all sauve with girls to hid the fact that he's hella gay

[sweettodo]

LMFAO- can u headcannon the aot warriors + y/n in a zoom meeting. and y’know y/n a little baddie and wears a revealing outfit 😩😏

i just saw this tiktok of some fanart of them in a zoom meet and it was the cutest thing EVERRRR.

EREN-

• doesn’t even bother to get out of bed, he just rolls over, picks his laptop from the floor and joins the zoom only to fall back asleep.

• levi constantly attempts to get his attention, and eren doesn’t even budge.

• seldom awake, but when he IS, he will usually interrupt to ask a stupid question: ‘hange where did you get that cool plant?’ or ‘jean i smell you through the zoom call, did you shower today?’

• enjoys changing his background to an odd photo of jean or one of his friends.

• hange will be the first to kick eren out of the zoom, and it’s not like mr. jaeger cares or anything.

• not to mention, he leaves his camera on too. so everyone sees shirtless eren passed out under the blankets with not a regard in the world.

• eats while on the call.

• one day, ( he still thanks god he was awake to see this ) you were working out in the morning before realizing you were already 10 minutes late to your meeting.

• jumping on to the meeting, sweaty, in a revealing sports bra and shorts, you’re apologizing profusely to levi and hange for being late.

• ‘lookin’ good y/n’ eren cackles, but what you or your friends realizing was that eren was now breathless, trying not to stare at you with every bit of will-power he could muster up.

• ‘seems that eren’s pretty awake now, heh’ jean taunts, eren quickly turns off his camera, so he could enjoy looking at you, who decided to wear... that

JEAN-

~ also likes to change his background, plays on his xbox with or without connie, headphones on his head and screaming while levi is muting jean to proceed talking.

~ jean has the pc set up and everything with the two monitors and the colorful custom pc.

~ eren makes fun of him because he uses a microphone. like the ones that have the stand and everything.

~ his room is never fully lit. he used leds, ( blue or green tbh ) shades are always closed.

~ ‘jean, turn off the game. now’ hange swears she tells him everyday.

~ ‘hey jean, didn’t you wear that sweatshirt last time? do you have any other clothes?’ eren ridicules, of course interrupting levi, who’s talking.

~ ‘i see the crumbs on your bed, jaeger!’

~ jean finds himself staring at you once you joined the call, wearing a... revealing... tank top with a very generous bra. his mouth growing increasingly dry.

~ he assumes that no one seems to notice, but when his friends see that he’s quite literally frozen in place, mouth slightly open as he’s looking at your chest.

~ ‘jean’

~ no answer.

~ ‘jean!’

~ ‘hu- yeah, yes?’

~ ‘is your internet having issues? you’re frozen’

MIKASA-

: sits at her desk, she has a picture collage of her, eren and armin on her wall.

: pristine white walls, very clean.

: always needs to call eren to wake him up before the meeting so he doesn’t miss it.

: if she forgets to call eren to wake him up, he blames her for missing the meeting.

: mikasa and armin are always firsts to the meeting.

: she always speaks, and fully participates.

: levi and hange usually are apt to call on her first for her opinions.

: she never turns her camera off, she’s wearing a comfortable but appropriate outfit, jeans and a blouse or shorts and a t shirt.

: sends group emails, for literally whatever reason.

: compliments others backgrounds ( their rooms ).

: reminds eren that his room is a pigsty and he needs to get out of bed, ‘eren, it’s 11:30am, get up.’

: ‘jean, you need to make your bed once and awhile’

: she always compliments what you’re wearing too, ‘i love that top y/n, where’d you get it?’

: and will have absolutely no problem with putting the boys in their place when she catches them gawking at you.

: ‘you guys are like dogs’

: she tells levi to kick them from the meet if they keep staring at you.

ARMIN-

∘ always early.

∘ room is neat, warm looking and he sits on the edge of his bed with his laptop in his lap.

∘ most talkative one here besides levi and hange.

∘ also calls eren every morning to ensure he’s awake.

∘ armin has a notebook and pencil next to him, constantly writing down notes.

∘ always has a presentation ready, a powerpoint or a document to show everyone.

∘ usually sticks to casual, t shirt and jeans.

∘ room is well lit, camera and mic are always on.

∘ also reminds the others to pay attention and be quiet, pleading with them, ‘guys, captain levi is trying to talk.’ also always lectures eren to get out of bed once and awhile.

∘ he doesn’t really pay much attention to what the others are wearing, but he can’t help but glance a few times at your outfit for the day.

∘ it makes his heart pound of his chest when you move to stretch or prop for hand under your chin to listen, your chest on display, arms squeezing them together only a little. he was in awe, swallowing hard and trying not to blush.

∘ avoiding you at all costs.

∘ armin won’t admit it, but he’s a hypocrite, so he’s gonna lecture the boys not to objectify you and tells you that he’s sorry for their immaturity.

∘ but yet here he is.

LEVI-

» cup of tea ready.

» sits at his dining room table.

» dreads having to do the zoom meet, so he’s pretty short tempered the whole time.

» wearing a button up per usual.

» well lit, has a plant in the corner of the room, most likely a cat in the windowsill.

» very english teacher-esque.

» swears the whole time at eren.

» kicks eren and jean out almost every zoom meeting.

» relies on armin for detailed information and analysis’

» needed to ask hange in secret how to present his screen, pin / mute people because he was pretty inept at computers for the most part.

» doesn’t use the mouse pad on his laptop, he connects a mouse because he despises that stupid mouse pad.

» the second he sees what you’re wearing, he shakes his head, ‘tch, i can hear these hounds now’

» yells at the boys to stop being perverts.

CONNIE-

‣  similar to jean, he also used led’s most of the time.

‣  has posters on his walls of music artists, shows, games and people

‣  he sits at his desk, which is cluttered, occasionally plays video games ( not as much as jean )

‣  zones out, looking at something random and blocks out a lot of what hange and levi says.

‣  yawns like 80 times in the span of an hour.

‣  drinks soda, or surfs the web.

‣  his bed is made, and he wears sweatshirts and sweats because like eren, he just got out of bed too.

‣  though connies bed is made, he still has clothes littered here and there, has a rack of shoes in the corner of his room ( he’s a sneaker head )

‣  most likely to not turn his camera on because he leaves the room to do god knows what.

‣  plays imessage games during the call.

‣  teases eren constantly.

‣  he won’t be AS dog-ish when he sees what you’re wearing, but he will say to himself, ‘she has some pretty nice tits’ and will probably text jean saying exactly that. but then he just moved on with his day.

‣  presents memes before the meeting to try and get levi to laugh. it doesn’t work.

HANGE-

≈ shes on her couch.

≈ wears casual outfits.

≈ ushers the boys to participate.

≈ very upbeat and happy.

≈ first person to make an interactive slideshow to get everyone to participate.

≈ shes into sending levi cat memes.

≈ has a cup of coffee next to her, plants and pictures of plants on her wall.

≈ likes to unmute people purposely if their mic is muted.

≈ emails back and fourth with armin and levi for plans for the upcoming meetings.

≈ she will not tolerate anyone disrespecting one another. kicking the boys out to stop them from harassing you about what you’re wearing.

HISORIA-

‹ her room is like a oasis, pastel walls, the vines on her walls and everything.

‹ diffuser in the background and incense.

‹ shes drinking coffee, always dressed, makeup on ( if she chooses to wear it ) and she attends these meetings on her laptop, sitting in front of her vanity.

‹ wears pretty blouses, or a summery dress, hair always fixed to perfection.

‹ sometimes her mom comes in, with cut up fruit and ice water, giving it to her and then leaving.

‹ she has framed pictures of her and everyone on her wall.

‹ also has honor roll certificates on her wall.

‹ she makes sure her vanity light is on so she has good lighting.

‹ also takes notes- color coordinating notes.

‹ she does participate, she laughs at the boys when they act up.

‹ also compliments everyone.

‹ when she catches the boys looking at you, she tells levi to make them knock it off, and then shakes her head in disappointment, ‘you all are so weird, leave y/n alone, you’re making her uncomfortable’

YMIR-

≍ shes usually propped up on her side, laying on her bed or the couch.

≍ she doesn’t participate unless she’s chosen to.

≍ keeps quiet, pays good attention.

≍ she sticks to wearing a sweatshirt and shorts or just a t shirt and leggings.

≍ clean room, warm blue sheets and gray walls.

≍ she gets furious when jean and eren go at it.

≍ shes gonna defend you against the boys pertaining to what you’re wearing, saying, ‘take your dirty eyes off of her’

≍ she doesn’t mind what you’re wearing, she thinks you look really good, but you wouldn’t catch her dead making a comment on your body.

≍ won’t admit it but it makes her flustered seeing how your body looks.

SASHA-

⇝ sits at her kitchen table.

⇝ eating full meals while the meeting takes place.

⇝ doesn’t hesitate to talk when her mouth is full so levi keeps her muted.

⇝ house is very home-y, warm and decorated well, her kitchen is seen in the background with her mom or dad occasionally walking past.

⇝ sometimes asking her mom to make her another sandwich, ( after her third one ).

⇝ always laughing with connie and jean.

⇝ sticks to casual outfits, sweatshirt and leggings, hair always up.

⇝ no filter, so if she catches eren or jean looking at you, she’s gonna jump into action.

⇝ ‘i know you’re not looking at her like that!’

⇝ ‘you better stop looking at her before i go over there!’

⇝ ‘captain if you don’t kick these fools out right now i’ll go over there and kick their asses instead!’

[sunflowerryvol6]

Sweet Summer

No warnings, just pure fluff.

WC: 3.6k

Long time no see! I hope you like this! I'll try and link the songs on this page, but no promises. Leave any suggestions for stories you'd like to see! Also, do comment, and tell me what you like about these two! As always, feedback is always welcome.

Check out my masterlist

You could listen to the songs here. I listened to this while writing this.

'I know how the summer goes' softly played in the background; she was sticky with sweat. She was sprawled on the floor of their bedroom. He sat on the bed above her. She was working on an essay on summer love for her column, the deadline was fast approaching. She looked to her left, and their room overlooked the ocean. The window opened to the bedroom patio, where they would often sit and work during the summer. Today he was oiling her hair while she worked hard on her piece. He'd just wrapped up, so he offered to help ease out some stress. She laid her head on the side on his knee and looked out to the sun shining down on the beach.

Ellie could almost touch the memory of when she first realised she was in love with Harry.

4 years earlier...

They'd been dating for a few weeks now. Harry planned the first date, so she arranged the second one. She'd quickly realised that Harry loved his walks. Working as a software developer left him with little to no time to move around. So he takes any opportunity to exercise or move his body. Ellie was a freelance journalist who's spent the better part of the last two years working from home. The idea of walking around or being on her feet was too taxing because of her chronic pain. But she liked harry, didn't she. So that's what she kept telling herself. When her hips hurt a little too much, or when she pulled her back from walking around too long. It'd all be worth it in the end. It had to be.

On this particular evening, they'd decided to meet up for a gig. Harry had found this artist that was playing in a bar downtown, so they'd meet there. She walked up to him and kissed him on the lips. "Hello to you too" He smiled.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I just missed you." She smiled wide. "I missed you too." He linked their arms and walked into the bar. He asked her to go ahead, and he'd join her with drinks. She walked on and waited for the band to start playing. He found his way back to her soon enough, with their favourite beverages.

Once the gig was over, they walked out of the bar and discussed where they should go to get dinner. "So, there's this brilliant taco place just down the road. We can walk there. What'd you say?" He smiled at her.

"Oh sure, let's." Ellie knew this wasn't the best decision. She'd be in a whole lot of pain by the end of the evening. She had work tomorrow, a deadline she couldn't miss. But It had to be worth it, right?

"What'd do you want to listen to today?" She suggested. She dug into her bag to find the earphone connector and offered it to him. They'd do this a lot, listen to music together, a new genre every date, sometimes their favourite albums. The last time they were listening to Harry's 70's indie playlist. You can tell a lot about a person by the music they heard. This was quite the ice breaker during their first few dates, so they decided to make it a thing. Now they would sometimes pick certain words or phrases and listen to what came up.

"Guilty pleasures?" He asked. "I can tell you, but I'm afraid it won't make for a great romantic walk down a dark road" She smiled. "I can take it." He laughed.

So she did. They blasted an old rock playlist, with mostly Cream. "You really love Cream, huh?" He said after a bit. "More than Neutral Milk Hotel," She told straightfaced. He blinked at her for a sec and burst out laughing. "That was a terrible one. Worse than my puns, God!" He laughed.

"These tacos better be mind fucking blowing, Styles," She says. Her hips were starting to ache a little. "Yes, Ma'am. I wouldn't dare disappoint you." He smiled. Their conversation went on about things here and there. Soon they reached the taco truck, right by the side of the road. The place was packed with people. Patrons had resorted to sitting on the pavement because of the wait.

"Okay, their birria tacos are the best, but we can get something else if you'd like?" Harry asked her. "Oh, that actually sounds absolutely perfect. Do you mind if I go get us a spot while you go get the food?" Ellie asked. "Sure, you do that." He said and leaned to kiss her cheek and made his way to the truck.

Ellie walked towards the pavement and slowly sat down. The moment her bum hit the pavement softly, she knew she was in a world of pain. Only more was waiting for her the longer this night went. She quickly dug into her purse to get out her cigarettes and lit one. It set in some ease, but it wasn't enough. She needed to get home, but what'd she tell Harry? Her experience telling people about her chronic pain has always ended up in them pitying her or not entirely believing her. Now, don't be fooled. She's in pain, but she didn't want no one's pity. She just wanted someone to recognise the pain and help her find a goddamn solution to it. In contemplating her exit strategy, she didn't realise she started tearing up. She quickly stubbed her cigarette and switched on some music to distract her. She waited patiently till Harry arrived with the food.

Harry walked over to Ellie with their food in his hand. Only to find her doubled over with her head on her knees. He rushed to her, placed their food on the pavement, and nudged her shoulder. "Ellie, are you okay?" He asked her gently. Ellie looked up, and she looked like she was in a lot of pain. "Hey! What's wrong? Why are you crying?" He seemed very concerned now. "I'm in a lot of pain right now, and it flares up when I'm on my feet for too long. I'd been out all day before we met, and I wasn't expecting us to walk around so much." She all but cried. "Oh, you poor thing. I'll call a cab right now, and I'll take you home, okay?" Harry said, his hand gently rubbed her arm. She sniffled in response.

The cab arrived soon enough. Harry helped her into the car and got in after her. "Would you like to try and sleep till we get there? I can keep an eye on the map." He offered. "Thank you." She said before leaning her head against the window and closed her eyes.

"Ellie, darling. We're here." His voice broke her out of the soft slumber she'd fallen into. She opened her eyes and looked out, and sure enough, they were outside her apartment building. She got out of the cab and started walking towards her door, expecting him to follow her. Still, she turns around to check, and he's about to call out to her. "Are you not going to come upstairs?" She questioned. "I need to make one more stop. I'll be up in 10." He shrugged. "Okay, don't be too long." She says and continues walking.

Harry takes the cab to the nearest store and buys a pack of Epsom salt. His sister would always soak her feet in Epsom salt and hot water after ballet lessons. So he knew this would bring Ellie some relief.

Whenever they'd had a sleepover, they always end up at Harry's place, so he'd never really been here to her home. Her door was a dark pink, kind of Fuschia. He turned the knob, and it was open, so he walked in. The place was filled with little trinkets and plants and other knick-knacks all over the place. The centre of attention had to be her bright yellow couch. All her furniture was pointed at this showcase filled with other ceramic figurines. It was very colourful. If you look at Ellie, you wouldn't expect her to live here. Her style is muted and minimalistic, apart from her hair. That was always a bright colour. This time it was bright pink, very close to the colour of her door. He wondered if she changed the colour of her door as often as she changed her hair. But otherwise, she wore blacks mainly with an occasional cream and some other muted colours. So why the eccentricity in her décor, he wondered. He didn't ask her, though.

"So I think a hot bath would really help you, I got some Epsom salt, and you know, we could try it?" He asked her hesitantly. "A long bath can help ease your pain," he said. "Yeah, I'd like that," she said. "You wait here; I'll set it up." He ventured into her flat. She took off her jacket, walked into her kitchen and took out a joint. Holding the joint in between her fingers, she looked for the lighter and slowly lit it. Walked back to the couch, took off her pants and sweater she was wearing and laid back on the sofa and took a long drag. She knew now she could relax, and the pain would slowly ease up.

Meanwhile, in her bathroom, Harry was running a bath for her. He sat on the edge of the tub with his hand underwater to check the water temperature. Once it was hot enough, Harry walked back to the living room. He walked in on her, smoking the joint, for the first time that evening, he saw her so relaxed and quiet. He didn't want to disturb her. But she opened her eyes, "Hey you" she smiled. He reached for her. "The bath is ready. Come on," He said. She took his hand and got up. She stood on her tippy toes and kissed him, and he kissed her back, slowly supporting his palm on her lower back. He deepened the kiss, she put her arms around his neck. He smiled into the kiss and pulled away.

"I really like you, you know?" He held her in place with his arm around him and looked at her. His gaze bore into her. "I'm here for you, so you have to tell me how I can help you," He said. That's when Ellie looked away. She started walking towards the bathroom and looked over her shoulder. "Come sit with me?" She asked. "Of course." He said. "Can you bring me the ice pack from the freezer, please?" She called out. He turned around and walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to get the ice pack. He checked the time on his phone and walked back into her bathroom.

Ellie was already in the bathtub, and there was music playing softly while she smoked. He sat on the toilet and passed her the ice pack. "Here you go," He said. In return, she handed him the joint. He gave her a small smile and took it from her. He took a long drag and leaned back on the seat to stretch his legs a bit. She had these tiny pots of creepers wound up on different pipes all over her bathroom. She held the icepack to her face and felt so much relief.

"Elle, are you feeling any better?" He asked her. She nodded. Did the day go just like you wanted? played softly as she hummed along to it. "I know you want me to tell you what's going on, but I'm afraid you'll think I'm crazy," She said, not looking at him. "Darling, try me. I'm here to listen," He offered. He was still nursing the joint, looking like some kind of greek god. Just casually sitting on her toilet and observing her so carefully, she felt safe. Ellie's pain had calmed down a bit. The hot bath was helping quite a bit.

"Okay, so here goes, I took a fall about three years ago, and it kind of fucked my knee up. So I couldn't exercise much, and I wasn't moving around much. After a few months, I tried to do a simple workout, just to get back into the routine, but I was in an excruciating amount of pain." She looked up at him and saw that he'd moved to sit on the floor closer to her. When she looked up, he reached for her hand with a smile and held it. His rings felt cold on her hands as he slowly pressed the points on her fingers. It felt perfect. So she focused on that and continued. "After that, I went to a doctor to figure why it happened, but they couldn't understand because there weren't markers on the tests they did. Over the years, I went to all kinds of practitioners to help me find a solution to this pain, if not an answer to what it is. But they just kept saying it's in my head and not really give me an answer. I went to a psychiatrist, and they tried medication for depression. It only made me very drowsy and inefficient at work. But other than that, I don't really know what it is. I'm just hurting all the time." She sighed.

"Ellie, that is not okay. You shouldn't be in this amount of pain. I'm so glad you told me about it." He said. Harry reached for a stray strand on her face and pushed it back, and ran his thumb along her cheek. "Over time, I have stopped talking to people about this, 'cause it's not going change anything, and they just end up pitying me. So I did the next best thing, I bought this flat and made my home chronic pain friendly. I work from home, so I don't exert myself and have done that for over 2 years now. It's awfully lonely, though."

"I can't imagine how that must feel. For the record, I don't pity you. I just wish you'd told me before, then I wouldn't make our dates so hard on you. But wait. Did I cause you a lot of pain when we had sex?" He worried his lip and looked at her. "Oh no! You didn't at all. I just didn't want you to think I'm somehow weak and can't take care of myself. Today was a lot, and I'd been out for a couple of meetings for some upcoming projects, and it just all ended up weighing me down." She was tearing up now. "Darling, please don't cry. I don't think you can't take care of yourself. I think it was incredibly responsible of you to tell me when you reached your limit. I'm happy to accommodate whatever you need." He said to her. She could tell he was earnest. "Thank you, Harry. It feels good to be able to tell someone and have them believe me." She said to him.

They had been listening to Sea Change by Beck while they smoked together. He sat on the floor of her bathroom, with his legs stretched out and his hand in the water, holding one of her ankles. Just as a reassurance that he wasn't leaving. They talked mindlessly. He asked her about her ceramic figurines, and she told him that her grandma used to collect them, then her mom, and now she does. She brought them with her when she moved to this city. Her favourite one was the teal coloured soapstone hippo. She used to have heart-shaped soapstone, but she gave it to an ex who threw it away after they broke up. Just like that, he told her about the first time he fell in love. How he likes to keep in touch with his exes because they all ended mutually and were lovely people. She told him about her first break-up. They exchanged sibling horror stories. He told her about his niece Willow, whom he lovingly calls Willy. She hadn't realised until then, as they listened to the saddest break-up albums of all time, that Harry was in it for the long haul. "Think you're ready to move to the bed?" He asked as he rubbed his eyes. She slowly got up, and he stood up to help her out of the bath. Pulled up a towel for her and handed it to her. She walked over to her drawer and pulled out a pair of pyjamas for herself. He undressed into his boxers and placed his clothes on the wing chair next to her windowsill. She got into bed and opened the covers up for him. Her room was decorated the same, but fewer breakable items were in there. She had a few pictures of her family upon her wall, and a dog that he assumed was her childhood pet. He climbed in. "Small spoon?" He asked her; she answered by wrapping his around her and laid her head on his chest. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair, and she sighed in contentment. "You know, when I first realised that they weren't gonna be able to find what's wrong with me, I'd listen to 'If you're feeling sinister a lot. It was kind of a constant at the time." she said.

"When Stuart Murdoch wrote the album, he was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome, so he was on bed rest for a long time. He used to look out of his window and see all these people living their lives, and he'd feel so left out? So he poured all that yearning into it. One of the songs even has an overlay of children playing in the background. That album got me through some dark times." Harry was running a finger along her arm, raising goosebumps on her warm skin. Harry places a kiss on her hair, "You know when, Willow, was a little girl. I'd play this game with her during bedtime. It would really tire her out and change her mind from being upset for having to go to bed. Do you want to try it?" He says. "Sure, why not?" She smiles and places a kiss on his tattooed chest.

"Close your eyes. No peeking, okay?" He looks over to check a pokes a finger in her side to make sure, and she bursts out in giggles. "Okay! I promise." She laughs out. He holds her closer and takes a deep breath, her hair smells of berries and residual smoke, and he decides then that's his favourite smell. "We're on a hill. It's cold out. Both of us huddled under a blanket, looking at the sky. It's just us there, so it's very quiet. You can hear the birds around and the slight wind. When it touches you, you dig yourself closer to me, and I hold you a little tighter, just like I am right now." She listens carefully, picturing precisely what it would look like. She wonders if they have any pets with them, "Can we have a dog?" She asks, "Of course, whatever you'd like, pet." He says. "Okay, so we have a dog, a dalmatian puppy. What do you think her name should be?" She asks him. "You want a girl, huh?" He smirked at her. "Uh yeah, they're best, of course." She said as a matter of factly. "Um, what do you think of birdie?" "I love it." she smiles. "Birdie is running circles around our blanket. She's completely enchanted by butterflies and jumping up and down to get to them. She smells like lavender shampoo and puppy smell. She has a small spot on her nose that's shaped like a heart. That's what made you pick her at the pound. She's wearing a baby pink collar with a gold medallion which has her name engraved on it. She just saw us watching her, so now rushing to cuddle. She comes running to us and lands herself right in between, and we take her inside the blanket and settle in for a good ol' nap." Listening to him describe in such detail a life that he envisions for the two of them makes her feel so full of love.

"I feel so full and happy. A little hazy with that feeling, so much so that I can't remember what I was upset about." She smiles into his chest. "I told you, it'll help. It's tried and tested, ma'am." He says, ruffling her hair a bit. "Thank you so much, Harry. Thank you for staying and taking care of me and making sure I was okay. Thank you for listening to me and not judging me and just being here." She tears up a little.

"Hey, no tears." He says, wiping a stray tear that escaped. "And, you don't have to thank me at all. I just want you to be honest with me, so I can be there for you. You don't need to carry this all on your own. If you allow me, I'd like to ease the burden a little bit." He says as he runs his thumb along her cheek.

Now...

The loud barking from the other room jolts her out of her daydream. She looks up to see the reason behind the sound. Birdie comes running towards their bed with her toy, all prepared to jump up, but Harry stops her. "Birdie, no! Don't jump on Mummy!" "It's okay, Harry." Ellie reaches for Birdie. "You spoil her so much, she'd never going to learn." "Oh come on, sweets, it's our vacation. You have to let her get away with some things."

He sits up, and Birdie immediately places herself on his lap and whines for him to scratch her. He happily obliges. "Now, my darling wife, come here and give me a kiss before I take our baby out for a wee." You smile and lean up for a kiss. He kisses your nose once before getting out of bed and walking over to wear a pair of shorts. He turns around to Ellie, and says "Are you feeling up to a picnic?"

She smiles and hits save on the document she was typing. "Yes, I'll get the snacks ready. Give me five minutes." She places the laptop on the bed and walks over to him. She reaches on her tippy toes and grabs him by the neck, and gives him one big kiss.

[pinetreesandtea]

The Batfamily Playing Minecraft Part 1

Duke Thomas 

Very chill and wholesome 

When he first spawned into the server, he collected flowers immediately

His base is a very nice Medieval themed house

Deadly with a trident 

Chill but Unhinged? 

He partners up with either Damian or Cass for pranks

Has a secret dungeon under his house

It’s essentially a jail 

 When you piss him off, he goes on a rampage 

but it’s not shouting rage, it’s the unsettling silent type of rage 

He mutes his mic, doesn’t type in the chat. It scares everyone 

Duke slowly looks at you, and the next thing you know it, your screen flashes to “You Died”

Usually willing to grab or do tasks for someone else. Oh, you need some Iron for a pickaxe? Here! He’ll give you some of his iron! Need some food? It’s cool, he has some extra bread on him.

Likes making parkour runs, Dick loves testing them out with him

His skin was made by Damian 

He sorta understands redstone, but not really 

Duke once built a parkour run of Gotham city (Mostly The Narrows, plus the bridge he jumped off of)

Memorized Binary and Morse code so he can send secret messages to Cass

Basically writes in a book and quill in either Binary or Morse code

He let Damian name his dog (Damian felt honored)

Whenever they hold funerals from any dead pets, he’s usually playing the priest 

Has been in Damian’s base before 

Being the lil shit he is, he gives Barbara and Steph flowers and cookies every time he see’s them, they think it’s sweet but also know he’s doing it to guarantee protection (they run with it cuz they find it hilarious) 

So whenever he does a prank, and they try to find out who did it, he’s usually backed up by Barbara and Steph 

Gets away with pranks 

no one suspects a thing 

well except for Cass, Barbara and Steph 

His mic is ok, he got it from the dollar store but it still works fine 

being the sweetheart he is, he built Jason his own room at his base whenever he visits 

Usually listening to music

Gamer Tag - DukeNDonuts (IDK FOR DUKE GIMME SOME SUGGESTIONS)

Damian Wayne 

Demon spawn

Absolutely unhinged 

he’s killed everyone in the server

Loves the Animals

His base is practically impossible to find 

He has too much pets 

Has at least 2 of every species you can tame

Named all of them

Feeling honoured that Duke let him name his first dog, he named one of his many dogs after Duke

Also doesn’t eat any meat in the game

A king at building 

Damian’s built perfect replica’s of the Mansion, Batcave, some significant buildings in Gotham city, the Eiffel Tower, L’arc de Triomphe, Statue of Liberty, Head Smashed in Buffalo Jump, Chichén Itzá, Sverd i fjell, Taj Mahal, Burj Khalifa, Saint Basil’s Cathedral,The Aprocolis, Easter Island, Neuschwanstein Castle, Great Pyramids of Giza, La Sagrada Familia, Blue Mosque, The Colosseum, and The Grand Palace Bangkok

(I TOTALLY didn’t search up ‘Famous Monuments’ for this ;-;.)

Whenever a pet dies, he goes on a rampage, and annihilates Jason and Tim

He’s so serious about it too

holds funerals for any deceased pets, forces everyone to attend

It’s usually Jason and Tim who ‘accidentally’ killed his pets 

Good with the crossbow

he finds Villagers annoying

once killed off a whole entire village

Dick then explains that you can trade with Villagers

Has a base in the Nether 

Mic is perfect, but he will rage scream

His skin was made by Duke, Dick also made him a skin but- he tried?

Gamer Tag - D.Grandest_Heir 

Dick Grayson 

a mod on both the discord server and minecraft server

The majority of his deaths are from underestimating fall damage and falling from heights 

Not that great at building

but he insists he’s a great builder

Uses Jungle wood and Acacia wood for his house

his house is....a bit of an eyesore 

He’s the one who thought of the idea of a minecraft server

Likes to go fishing

Loves testing out Duke’s parkour builds 

Got Elytra wings

Feather falling 

just to add some spice, he makes up events/adventures for everyone (usually sticks to the rpg adventure style. IG almost like DnD)

Mic is alright, it glitches occasionally, makes it sound like he’s getting possessed, everyone finds it funny

His skin is made by himself, it’s... interesting

Gamer Tag - ricardoDickard

Jason Todd 

Usually gets forced by Dick to play

unhinged

eats zombie flesh 

accidentally killed Duke a couple of times (forgetting that he’s holding an enchanted sword, he tapped Duke to grab his attention)

Half the time, it’s usually an accident when he kills Damian’s pets

Other times, he’s testing a new sword on it

Plays the villain or npc in Dick’s rpg events 

Exploded Tim’s base

Also Exploded Dick’s base

He exploded part of Duke’s base but instantly regretted it 

was hunted down by Duke and brutally murdered in cold silence

Jason blew up a small portion of one of Damian’s builds, promptly got killed and was forced to held rebuild the damage 

Has a Skeleton horse

doesn’t have a base

he just crashes at someone else’s 

ransacks Dick’s food 

Finds Farming calming 

he is one with bumblebees 

bumblebees love him

his mic is absolutely horrible, he insists that it works fine 

constant wack sounds, glitches

his gamer tag frustrates Damian and Tim to no end 

“WHY IS THE J A LOWERCASE??!!”

“THERE”S NO H IN YOUR NAME *demonic screeching* “

Found a skin off the internet

Gamer Tag - jahYyy  

[herstroywritten]

Darn Pigtails

Hello! I genuinely have no excuse for this monstrosity of a piece that I agonized over for the past few days instead of focusing on my uni work. I’ve spent the last month obsessing over Fate and Rivusa (the latter has been a life long obsession and Fate has only added fuel to the fire, with just one scene...). Yes, I am a part of that clown circus and honestly, I’m proud. I’ve always been a writer, but never posted anything but I figure here goes nothing. I was very inspired by some very talented writers in this tiny little club that’s been created on here for this ship (you all know them by now...). I couldn’t resist adding my own (not so) little addition to the collection. I don’t currently have an account on ao3 or anything, so this is just what’s happening. Be warned, it’s long and maybe excessive (8k words, oops). Other than that, enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!

It started with pigtails.

He'd seen Dowling parading her around the square as students fought tooth and nail to kill the fake dummies that seemed to embody their realistic counterparts more than they should have. She's had a raincoat on at the time, not that he would have cared what she was wearing because… how could he notice anything but the pigtails? Fucking pigtails! Long enough to reach her waist, dark enough to have him thinking that the darkest of night skies must have been modeled after that same color, and pin-straight from root to tip. She walked by, lavender sweater and loose jeans, and that's the first thing he noticed. Her pigtails. He felt his tongue move, the tip pressed against the top of his mouth, ready to make a crude comment about how he'd love to tug on those pigtails in more than one scenario because honestly, was he not supposed to with the way that they swung about perfectly matching the sway of her hips? His eyes lit up as he just about let the words tumble out, and then she let her eyes lift to meet his as she made her way through the specialists' training grounds. Brown eyes lingered over his green ones for longer than any normal interaction accounts for, before dropping downward to the rest of his form. His mouth quirked into a smirk.

 "Oh," he thought. "So this is how we're going to play this game."

 Never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a game or a challenge. And it just so happened that this particular game, the cat and mouse chase, was one of his favorites. So he figured, if she could stare at him like that, it would only be rude not to return the favor. He turned around, let his eyes fully graze over her whole figure the way he'd been too distracted to do before, and that's when he noted the stick she held. Whatever dumb comment he'd been so eager to make about her pigtails was quickly replaced by, "You like holding that big stick?"

 He'd hoped for a reaction. And boy did he get one, a swift and lithe little trick she'd been hiding, seemingly waiting for the chance to pull it out. And even though he'd been training his whole life to defend himself, he just about let her jab his left eye out because he was so very much intrigued by the way her hair swayed to meet her movements and her brown eyes that bore into him with rage. Yeah, this was going to be all kinds of fun.

 "I think I just threw up," she said, her face twisting into clear disdain. But her eyes sparkled and he thought maybe her hair is not the only thing the night sky was modeled after. He'd seen her before, somewhere in the background perhaps. Class? No. If she were a specialist and in his classes, there was no way in hell he wouldn't remember her. The cafeteria? Probably, there was only one place to get food in this godforsaken place and he doubted she hadn't made her way down there at least once. The Alfea hallways? Again, not unlikely. And that's when it clicked into place. She was one of the too many to remember (in his opinion) roommates of Sky's new obsession- Bloom. The four, sometimes five, of them were always together, huddled up beside one another in the cafeteria benches or on the way to classes. Honestly, now that he thought about it, was there ever a time when he'd seen those girls- besides Stella- alone? He definitely had never seen her alone. "Well, better take advantage of the chance," he thought. So, he dug into her, asked about her little run around the training grounds with the headmistress. He wanted to see how far he could push her rage, how willing she was to give him a good show. Between comments about dancing and fairies versus specialists, her eyes flashed purple and he soon realized that he'd bit off more than he could chew. As if her natural brown irises weren't alluring enough, the way they looked when he powers took over held a whole other sense of siren's lure within them. It took him a second to realize what was happening, that she was reading him. And he would have let her continue too, if it meant that he could hold her attention just a little while longer and feel whatever kind of electricity was rippling between the two of them for a few more minutes. Too bad she chose that moment to let him know exactly what she was doing, and exactly how he felt.

 "You really hate being here, don't you?"

 In this school, yes. Here, right now, with her eyes all over him and his hands twitching to edge upwards and brush his hands against those darn pigtails? No. No, he would have loved to stay right here just a little longer. But he was more scared of whatever hell she'd dig up from within him, so instead he told her to stay the fuck out of his head. He caught a glimpse of her prideful smirk, taunting him about this lost battle and her evident win, right before he whirled around and walked his way back to wherever his legs would lead him.

 Passing by the guy he'd seen constantly following her around like a lost puppy dog, the one he assumed was her boyfriend, he murmured under his breath something along the lines of "Good luck with that one."

 And then he was gone. But not before he remembered that he hadn't caught her name. No matter. As previously mentioned, never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a challenge. She'd won this battle, but he was going to win the war.

_______________________________________________________________

The next time he found himself in her company only, the world had flipped on its axis.

Dowling and Silva were gone and Harvey had turned into a muted professor, almost never seen anywhere except in the greenhouse when he had classes to run. The new headmistress, Rosalind, ruled with a grip tougher than steel. Andreas was  the male version of her, so not any better. Fairies were being forced into combat positions, whether they liked it or not, and upperclassmen specialists were forced into being their mentors, whether they liked it or not. Classes were stricter. You miss one lesson, you make up two class times in personal training with either Andreas or Rosalind herself. At first, everyone'd thought that was a stupid rule. Who doesn’t want a one-on-one with the professors? It took just one dumb third-year specialist missing his first lesson on the first day of the second term for everyone to realize that these training sessions were practically abuse covered with a prettier name.

But the thing that had changed the most, the thing that he couldn't even begin to name, was whatever the hell was happening to his mind. He no longer knew where his day started and where it ended. He knew he must have gotten up every morning and  gone to classes and eaten to sustain his body for the brutal training session that followed and delt with whatever else needed dealing with. And yet, he remembered none of it. None of it except the moments spent chasing Sky around (which inevitably meant chasing the Winx suite around), the moments spent training his new fairy mentee- Musa, and the nightly runs to Dowling's- no, Rosalind's- office where he involuntarily spilled every little detail about his day. His mind had become an utter blur, his thoughts were no longer his own. He knew somewhere in his mind that he needed to stop, had tried endlessly to stop, but the more he held back from Rosalind's spell, the faster his words seem to come out. So, he'd stopped trying to fight it.

It was to his horror when he had been assigned Musa for training. He wasn't sure what he had expected. Of course they were going to pair him with a Winx suitemate, he just had expected it to be Bloom. Bloom was who they wanted details on after all. Even Stella would have made more sense, what with her mother being so very controlling. But no. Bloom went to Sky, Stella to some third year specialist, and he got Musa. If guilt wasn't already shredding him to pieces, it would be now.

He tried to console himself with the fact that he was better prepared to handle her this time. He'd spent enough time with Sky and the girls to have picked up the little details about her. She constantly listened to music to block out the world, she liked wearing shorts and miniskirts (a fact he quite enjoyed), she had an unhealthy obsession with bomber jackets (a fact he could do without when she was also wearing lacy silks under those same jackets), she liked pancakes for breakfast (but only when they were drenched with maple syrup), and the list goes on. His personal favorite fact, however, was that her hair was always immaculate and never the same two days in a row.

The point was, he could do this. All he had to do was train her. No talking necessary. She sure as hell was not about to strike up conversation with him if he didn't bother her. So, he'd keep his mouth shut and just teach her what he needed to teach her. Then he'd leave. That way, when his legs would inevitably carry him to Rosalind at midnight on the dot, he'd have nothing to give her but a good rundown of what moves they had practiced.

How wrong he had been.

He had clearly overestimated his ability to not falter in front of her, because the second she walked into the mat, he knew he'd have to say something.

This time, her hair was in tightly wound braids. Two of them, wrapping vertically down her scalp like fine rope. This time, he wants to undo her hair, to tug the black elastic ties out of place and run his fingers through each threaded piece until the strands lay about her shoulders in waves. He'd like to know what she looks like with her hair down, like fully down.

As if the hair wasn’t enough, she was also dressed in the tight female version of the specialist gear. It's all green woven material that crosses her chest, black mesh that lines her sides, and tight leggings that bring an ungodly amount of attention to her ass.

So, he slips up. "If I knew this is what you'd look like in a uniform-" he starts, but never finishes.

"Don't you dare finish that thought," she warns, voice dripping with a no-nonsense attitude.

"What's gotten into you?"

"It has not been my day. Hell, it has not been my week."

"It hasn't been anyone's week," he feels the need to remind her. And when she looks at him with those eyes, he wonders if she can read right through him without having to use her magic.

"Yeah, well. Let's just say I'm having a particularly more-so-than-average-shit day. So I'd appreciate it if you kept the comments to yourself." She's frustrated, he can see it. She's giving him the perfect out of a bad situation. She's begging him not to talk to her and that's exactly what he needs but goddamn it, he can't back away from a challenge even when his mind is in literal hell.

"What, can't handle me?" She scoffs at that.

"I can handle you just fine. I've been handling other's comments and thoughts since my powers started showing up. That's not the problem.

"What is the problem then?" He's digging, searching for something. For what, he's not sure. She's just finished lacing up her boots. She looks at him then, stares him down.

"The problem is I don’t want to handle you right now, Riven." And with that, she shoves past him to the center of the mat. But he's not done yet.

"You sure about that? I've never met a girl who doesn’t want to handle me before…" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she chuckles a little at his antics.

"Yeah, no. But even if I did want to, you'd really have to do better than that.

"What, the line wasn't up to your standards?"

"Was it up to yours?"

"Not my best, I'll admit. But I make do. And you can't tell me Harvey Jr. has done any better." Rage flushes through her features at that particular comment. He watches as her cheeks flush bright red and as the flush slowly spreads to her neck and below the rounded collar of her uniform, slowly cursing whoever created the damn thing for not making it a V-neck. 

"Ooh, a reaction! Go on, then. Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

"None of your fucking business."

"It never is, and yet I'd love to know."

"Seriously, Riven. Let's just not talk." She wound up, ready to burst. Her hands are balled into fists by her side and her back is arched towards him in anger. She's a spring ready to jump, and he wants to see how high she can reach.

He goes for the typical line, "Trouble in paradise, then?"

Turns out she can jump pretty damn high, something he expected. What he didn't expect was for her to jump him. She pushes him with so much force that he barely catches himself before he falls. Tears stream down her face as she punches at his chest (hopelessly, he notes… he's got a lot to teach her). He lets her continue the onslaught on his chest, is impressed by her force and strength and persistence even if the form is all wrong. When she finally stops, the tears do too. All that's left are her hiccups and his eyes following her every movement. He watches her dry her eyes vigorously, hears her curse him and the school and herself… and Sam? He's not sure what's happening right now, not sure why his arms suddenly want to wind around her frame and pull her in, or why his heart clenches at the sight of her tears. He chooses to ignore it all.

They continue the rest of the training session in silence, with him only speaking to direct her movements and point out a thing or two about her form. Later that night, after running through his nightly routine with Rosalind, he finds out from Sky that Bloom was especially distressed today because Musa was especially distressed today because Musa and Sam had decided to call it quits. Riven feels light-headed at that news,  and he's still not exactly sure why his body is so adamant about reacting to news involving her.

He rolls into bed, thinking bitterly to himself that he won today. He won this battle. So why does it feel like he lost it?

______________________________________________________________

They continue their training sessions in silence for a while, until eventually a banter sparks between the two of them. He's not quite sure how it happens, just as he's not quite sure how anything happens anymore. He assumes he probably made some joke about how good her legs looked in those damn tights or about how she desperately needed help with her fighting stance. Maybe he just wore her down with his constant questions. He doesn't really care, to be honest. He knows he should care, in the same way that he knows he should actually avoid talking to her instead of showing up every day eager to see her. He just can’t bring himself to do it, not when she shows up in that uniform every day or when she looks at him with so much pride when she finally nails a move they've been working on for so long, and definitely not when she starts to initiate the playful conversations with the same smirk that he would maybe like to kiss off her face. There's so many things he should do at the end of the day, but he does none of them. He just lets whatever happens happen, and it kind of works out for a bit. They tease each other, teeter-tottering somewhere between playful and full on flirting. They fight in close combat corners, sometimes ending up on top of each other. Those days are a personal favorite of Riven's, especially when she's on top of him and he can feel her thighs straining against his waist as she pins his arms above his head. (He may have taught her that one move just for this moment. He felt it was a shame to not put those dance-trained legs of hers to use.)

The perfectly odd tightrope they walk snaps on a Wednesday afternoon, after they've finished training and are walking toward the benches that hold their water bottles. He takes a swing of his water, and then looks up from his seat to see her standing up and chugging her own bottle. A loose droplet slips past her lips and down her uniform's tank top. He follows it with his eyes, not even bothering to hide the very obvious motion even as she finishes her drink, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and then chuckles at him while rolling her eyes.

"You could be a little less obvious, you know." She calls him out casually. He smirks at the comment before dragging his eyes back up to her brown orbs.

" Subtle isn't really my forte. Besides what fun would it be if you didn't know I was staring at you?"

She rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away. "You're gonna give some poor girl a heart attack one day if you look at her like that." It's a teasing remark, but he feels his adrenaline hike up at her comment. The game is back on.

"Some poor girl, huh?" He leans into her on the bench, invades her personal space. She blushes, looks directly ahead, and he thinks he's winning another one of the many secret battles they seem to find themselves fighting. Then, she turns to him and looks him dead in the eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" He didn't expect that. Again, he knows he should just leave or say no. Anything to avoid a conversation that could lead to more than just a flirting banter, anything to avoid something that Rosalind may actually be interested in. But she's looking up at him with wide eyes and he's convinced he's become weak and that she's won this battle because he can't bring himself to say no.

"Uh… sure?"

She looks around nervously, as if deciding whether to ask what's on her mind or not. Finally, she leans close to him and asks in a slow and quiet voice, "Where do you sneak off to every night at midnight?" He pulls back from her faster than he thought he would ever be able to pull away from her, blinking down at her now shocked face.

"How-"

"How do I know? You have a roommate, Riven. He hears you leave every night and says nothing about it, but he's been worried about you. He says you've been acting different… For what it's worth, I think he's right. Especially when we're not in training sessions, you're completely out of it. I know this has been a rough mon-"

This is it. She's dug deep enough that she has hit rock bottom, she's found the dead-end at the bottom of his soul. He has to let this banter go now. He can't have her asking questions he'll then have to report back to Rosalind.

"You know nothing." He words are curt and sharp. She flinches at their edge, but doesn’t back down. It's one of his favorite things about her, her persistence.

"You can talk to me if something is wrong, you know? Or to Sky or the girls… you can talk to any of us…" He watches as her eyebrows furrow, traces the line they form down her nose to her lips and then back to her eyes. And that's when he notices that her eyes have changed color to purple. He grabbed her hand quickly and firmly, enough to break her concentration but not enough to hurt her (God, even in his rage, it would never be enough to hurt her).

"I've told you not to do that. Not to use your damn mind powers on me." His voice is strained, laced with anger and something resembling fear. 

"I'm trying-"

"I don't care what you're trying. You shouldn’t be in there. You shouldn't be in my brain. There's nothing in there worth your time or energy and there never will be."

And with that he spins on his heel and marches into the forest behind the training grounds. He doesn’t turn around, but if he did, he would have seen Sky moving out of the shadows and heading toward Musa.

"Did you do it?"

It takes her a second to interpret his question. She still staring into the distance as Riven's figure fades out of view, her eyes finally returning to their normal brown color. She continues to stare at the dot in the distance, unwilling to look away as if she's daring him to turn around and spare her one last glance. He doesn't.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She finally turns to Sky. "He's completely blocked from my powers. Dowling was right, he's under some sort of mind control."

______________________________________________________________

It’s 2AM by the time Riven finally makes his way to the room he shares with Sky. He's once again not really sure where his day went or what he did after he flipped on Musa and marched his way into the woods after their little spat. He remembers anger, a lot of anger. He's angry at her for trying to dig into his brain when they had already established that he hated it. He was angry at Dowling for dying (at least, he assumes she's dead because where else would she be?) and leaving the school to the psychopath that is Rosalind. He's angry at Rosalind for manipulating him, controlling his mind. He's angry at Beatrix for getting him into this stupid mess. But mostly, he's angry with himself for letting it all happened, for somehow always making the wrong move at the wrong time, for managing to screw up his own life in such a grand manner that it constitutes an award (truly, he's outdone himself this time). He's mad at himself for not being able to control his own mind, for letting Rosalind take up residence in his brain and being able to do nothing about it. He's even angry at himself for not just standing there and letting Musa read his emotions, because maybe if she did then she'd know the hell he was in. His brain was constantly pulling in all different directions, trying desperately to get away from the constraints of Rosalind's spell. Headaches are nonending and thoughts leave as soon as they come. It's like there's two people waging war within him, but one of them brought swords to a gunfight and is losing horribly. But it’s a war he feels he should fight on his own, and maybe that's why he didn't let her read him. As much as he hates to admit it, the mind control and guilt was breaking him but he could handle that. What he couldn't handle, however, was getting her involved in this stupid mess by mistake, which would inevitably lead to Rosalind getting ahold of her as well. God knows there's only so much room left in hell or sins, and he'd be damned if he hadn't already filled all the available spots.

He was glad for the day to finally be over, glad to be heading to bed (not sleep though, sleep did not exist when his mind was in so much pain all the fucking time). It seemed the world had other plans for him, however, because upon opening the door to his dorm, he was met with a sight that he both dreaded and wanted to burn into his memory for the rest of however long he had to live before Rosalind finally took pity on him and bent his brain to death. 

Perched on his bed, leaning forward ever so slightly, elbows meeting her knees, and head bend toward the floor was Musa. From his angle, he could only see her side profile, but apparently that's all his body needed to be automatically sent into a frenzy. The first thing he notices was, not to his surprise, the hair. She'd replaced her training braids with buns, big ones that hang precariously form her head as tendrils of her dark hair fell in loose waves and framed her face. He again found himself wondering what she would look like with all of her hair fully down. His fingers itched to burrow into those carefully constructed space buns and pull their pins out of place, just to see if she'd look half as beautiful with her hair down as she did with her hair up.

He stood like that for a while, taking her in and letting her continue to stare at the dark wooden floors with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He's not sure when, but eventually she turned toward the door, eyebrows first shooting up when she noticed him staring at her, and then falling back into place as she shot him a shy mile from across the room.

"Hey," came her greeting in a small voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question was harsh, but he knew himself well to know that if he even let just one layer of himself down with her, he may as well just lay down all his defenses. She had a way of getting him to speak and break down and he wasn't about to let himself get her mixed up in whatever evil plan he'd been helping construct against his will.

Too bad for him, because it seemed Musa had been expecting a fight and was ready to fire back his quips with some of her own. She simply rolled her eyes and casually stated, "Well, then, straight to it, are we?"

"If you're looking for Sky or Bloom, they're probably in a dark hallway somewhere snogging each other half to death," he answered. She grimaced at the image.

"Yeah, no. I'm not here for Bloom or Sky."

"Then you're not here for anyone." She gave him a pointed look at that phrase. He wisely chose to ignore it and instead made his way to the couch in the middle of the room, throwing his jacket somewhere on it.

"What, that's all you have today? I'm standing on your bed, we're alone in your bedroom, I'm in a miniskirt… and you're not going to make a comment about showing me a good time? You're losing your touch, Riv." She was teasing him, he could tell by the light tone of her voice. Maybe she liked to see his reactions the way he so enjoyed watching her react to his own snarky comments. Maybe she saw enough into his brain earlier to have dug up some of his fantasies. Damn her, he'd been avoiding looking anywhere but her face since he walked in, and now here she was basically challenging him to do more. Damn him and his inability to back down from a game he was so clearly not apt to win at the moment. He turned around and finally got a good look at her. She was indeed in a miniskirt, under which she had tucked a lacy white top that was very clearly meant to showcase the black bra she wore underneath the pitiful excuse of a shirt. Her signature red bomber jacket hung from her shoulders and the black boots she had on were laced all the way up to her kneecaps.

This must be it, he thought. This must be his punishment for spilling his guts to Rosalind every night. Or maybe, his guilt and the pain throbbing through his veins had finally won out and he was finally cracking under all that pressure. That's fine. He wasn't even surprised this is what his brain chose to tease him with at the brink of destruction. He figured she'd be the one to shatter him, it was only a matter of time.

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" Her voice broke him out of his trance. Ok, maybe he wasn't imagining her.

He sighed, defeated and broken and just tired. "Why are you here, Musa?"

It’s a staring match now. He watches as her eyes soften and the sarcasm leaves her features.

"I couldn’t read you earlier today. In the training grounds-" No. Anything but this conversation.

"Maybe you should consider working on those powers of yours then. Seems to me like you're the one losing your touch."

"I'm serious, Riven-"

"I am too."

"Jesus, Riven, let me just finish!" Anger sparked in her features. "You're loud, Riven." He scoffed at that. "Your emotions, I mean. They're usually loud… but they're also lively and harmonious, in a weird way that I can't seem to figure out. Lately, however, they've been quiet… as if they don't exist at all. And at first I thought it was me, I thought I was getting better at controlling my powers. But when I tried to read you today, I felt nothing…" There is was, she had figured it out, and now she looked at him as if he was a science experiment she couldn’t quite figure out.

"… Maybe my hearts just finally turned to stone." He tried for a joke. She did not find it amusing.

"I know, Riven." He's not sure what that was supposed to mean. What did she know? That he was a horrible person? That he'd snitched on her and all their friends (were they his friends?) to the queen of evil? Or worse, that his body lit up whenever she was around?

"Cryptic, but ok. I guess between that line and the fact that you somehow snuck into my room, you could make the whole 'good girl turned bad, mysterious girl' vibe work. Honored I'm the first you're trying it out on. If you'd like to take it a step further, the bed's right behind you." She may have the upper hand in this game, but he's still a stubborn ass.

"Seriously, Riven. I'm not kidding." She took a step toward him. Wrong move, angel.

"I know you're not. That shirt doesn't exactly scream 'kidding'. Tell me, did you just choose the first thing you found in your closet to put on?" He took a step forward this time, one long stride before they stood chest to chest and he hooked his finger under her chin. "Or is that shirt part of this whole 'mystery girl' scheme? Because, I won't lie, it's working." He sees her shiver at his words and doesn't bother to hide the smirk that graces his face. Finally, things were getting interesting. "Wonder if it looks half as good on my bedroom floor…" He noticed her eyes flicker downward, to is lips, but they moved back up just as quickly. He stared right back at her, watching as she struggled to make up her mind about where to slap him for that last comment. He didn't have to wait too long for a response.

"I'm sure you do." Her words came as a whisper, and the smirk that followed was just as alluring. He barely had time to process the meaning behind it all, before she crashed her body onto him and her lips found his. Her hands gripped into the sides of his t-shirt, keeping him to her with such force that he vaguely wondered why in the world she felt the need to do that when he wouldn't dream of walking away from this, from her. It's frantic and it's rushed. One of his hands find her waist, pulls her impossibly closer to him. His other hand delves into the hair at the back of her head before sliding to the side and pulling at the pins that hold her right bun in place. It takes him pulling out just one pin and the structure falls apart, her hair tumbling around them and cocooning them in place. He hears her gasp, her hands finally unlatching from his shirt as she splays them apart over his muscles, moves them up to his shoulders. 

He's moving backward, whether to ask her if this okay or make a comment about that noise she just made, he's not sure. He never gets the chance. She pulls his to her again, kisses him like she's been starved in a thirsting in wasteland for days and he's the first sign of water she's stumbled upon, bites his lip- fucking bites his lip and sucks on it and pulls it with her teeth… and he thinks that her being here could not have been his punishment. This, right here, her kissing him like this, this is his punishment. This is his pain finally taking over and shattering his soul.

Maybe Rosalind somehow found out about his little crush and is getting payback for the fact that he didn't show up for their nightly midnight story time. Maybe, he's already dead and in hell and some devil out there is playing a cruel, cruel trick on his brain. Maybe that's why his body is shaking, literally shaking, and his mind feels like its tearing apart. He feels Musa's hands on his scalp, her palms splayed out at his temples and fingers tightly wound into his hair. Again, he is surprised at the sheer force she seems to pour into her touch, anchoring him to her as though he could ever want to leave her embrace.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts and in her touch that he barely hears the whimpers of pain coming from her or feels the tears streaming down her face as she hold him to her. When he finally feels the tears trickle between their lips, be pulls back (genuinely, pulls back because her fingers are still forcing him to her), opens his eyes to find her already looking back at him. But instead of the brown irises she wore when this rough little make out session started, her eyes are now purple. And her face is red. She looks exhausted. He feels exhausted. 

He's about to ask her what's wrong, if she's ok, if her powers are going haywire. But he's so dizzy and so tired and suddenly he's leaning on her and she's pulling him onto the bed. She looks down at him, whispers "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over in his ear and he finds himself wondering what she's sorry about and where the pain that haunted him for weeks has gone before he slowly sinks into oblivion.

________________________________________________________________

He wakes up and she's gone.

It's Sky who sits next to him the next day, Sky and Headmistress Dowling of all people. He mumbles something about being dead and hallucinating, but Sky just laughs and tells him he's happy to have him back.

It takes a good few hours to catch him up on all the shit he's missed while he was being controlled by Rosalind. Apparently, Dowling was stuck under a bunch of plants? The girls somehow managed to free her with some potion from a cousin of Terra's. Turns out they've been sneaking out every night, pretending to go to parties and instead heading outside the barrier trying to find clues on what the hell Rosalind is up to. That would explain Musa's choice of clothing the other night. 

Sky tells him it was the girls' idea to keep him out of the loop at the beginning, worried that his weird obsession with Beatrix and her even weirder obsession with him would lead to Andreas and Rosalind finding out. Sky swears they were going to tell him eventually, and Riven has to tell him that he's glad they didn't. That's when Sky tells him what he'd already guessed. It was Musa who refused to tell him even after time has passed, sensing that something was wrong in his mind. Her being in their room the other night had been no mistake, but an orchestrated move. She'd practiced with Dowling for weeks, training to unlock his brain, pull it apart so that she could mentally remove Rosalind's control from his brain by sheer willpower and might, and then put it all back together as best she could. 

He's instinctively proud of her, she did it. But, he also wishes she'd done it with less kissing and in some less distracting attire, but he probably deserves the type of torture that will surely follow as a result of last night. After they fill him in, Sky throws his gear at him and tells him to get dressed and ready.

"We leave tonight."

"What? Where are we going?"

"That's a bit complicated." It's Dowling who answers this time. "Silva and Professor Harvey will meet us in the woods beyond the barrier. We will lead you the rest of the way. We're going to collect forces. There will be a war, and Rosalind will know that something is wrong when you miss your nightly meeting with her for the second time in a row. The Winx suite is already with Silva and Ben. They're waiting for us."

They leave the dorms using Stella's ring, which she has given to Dowling as a backup to her magic, which Rosalind is be able to track within school grounds. When they arrive to the location in the woods, Riven is only slightly surprised to find Sam among the girls. He's leaning on a tree, talking to Silva and his father, both of which look like they haven't slept for days. The girls are gathered together by a fallen tree. Musa is in the middle of them, huddled into herself, as Terra and a new girl with brown skin and long honey-brown hair rub her back. Stella, Bloom, and Aisha stand back, watching Musa with worry evident in their eyes. 

It's Stella who notices them first. She wipes the worry off her face with mastered ease that only comes with practice, straightens up her back, shoots Musa a look and calls loudly, "There you are! Took you guys long enough!"

From then on, it’s a quick fill-in on what the plan is, an awkward introduction to the Harvey cousin whose name he can't remember because his mind was too stuck on the girl whose hair is back in those buns he managed to loosen yesterday, and a small little "welcome back to the good side" before they're trekking their way through the woods.

He stands behind her the whole time. Watches as she follows the professors, but stands at the tail end of the line the girls have formed. She looks tired, the bags under her eyes tell him that the girls have probably been out here all night. He wonders how much of her energy it took to tear and mend his brain, if anyone bothered to let her rest after she did it. He wishes he was braver, wishes he could walk up to her and… what, thank her? Ask her why she did it? Why kiss him and then cure him? She could have just as easily done it while he was asleep. He bides his time, observes as one by one the girls take turns standing next to her, linking their arms with hers, smiling down at her, whispering who knows what in her ear and earning a laugh form her every now and then. He likes her laugh, it's cute.

He's currently watching as Bloom pull Musa to her and makes some joke about chickens, when he feels a punch land on his right arm.

"Are you as stupid as you look?" He turns to find that Stella has somehow walked backwards and is now next to him.

"Missed you too, princess," he mutters back.

"Oh, cut the bullcrap, Riven. You've been staring at her for the last two hours and I told her I wouldn't say anything but honestly, you two are hopeless. I've never met two people so oblivious in my life."

"I don’t know what you're talking about." he starts.

"Like shit you don't. If you don't know it yet, figure it out." And just like that she's running ahead and linking her right arm with Musa's as Bloom tries for another joke, this one about pigs that fly.

He tries to ignore Stella's stupid comment. Honestly, he figures it's probably safer to stare at her and look like a total creep than try to talk to her and make sense of his feeling about who the fuck knows what anymore. But Stella's words ring through his mind and he lets himself believe that maybe, just maybe…

In the end, he convinces himself that the reason he walks up to her once Bloom goes to hold Sky's hand and Stella moves in on the new girl to make conversation is because Stella offered him a challenge, and he likes to win at those. (He's heading straight for a loss, he's fully aware of that, but whatever.) 

"Long time no see," he jokes when he reaches her side. She cranes her neck up at him, not surprised to see him.

"Thought I heard your loud-ass emotions coming closer."

"Yeah, I've been told they can be quite the riot." He shoots her a smirk and she smiles up at him.

"Who told you that?"

"Oh, you know. Just some girl."

"Some girl, huh?"

"Yeah. Then she gave me a good snogging before tearing my brain to pieces without my knowing it."

"Mmm. She seems like a handful."

"Tell me about it." Her eyes fall downward and he doesn't need to be an empath to see the gears turning in her head.

"I'm sorry," she starts, "About that. I didn't want to do it, I know you have me reading your emotions."

"Yeah, but I hated having them controlled by someone else even more…" There's a pause and he quickly moves to fill it, scared that whatever courage juice that's coursing through his veins will run out soon. "Thank you, by the way." And he means it. He hopes she can sense the sincerity coming from him because he only has so many words in his vocabulary when it comes to her and fears he's already run out of them when she turns to look at him once more.

They've fallen behind the group at this point. He figures he won't get the chance to do this again for a while, so he asks her the question that been running rampant through his mind. It's pathetic, really. They're headed to god knows where to do god knows what and instead of worrying about the fact that war is coming or even being slightly concerned that he's just had his mind abused and prodded around by an evil mastermind, his biggest worry is if this girl really wanted to kiss him or if she just did it for show.

"So, umm, just so we're clear… did you mean it?" If he felt dumb thinking it, he feels like a world-class idiot saying it out loud.

"Mean what?" She stares back at him intensely, and he thinks to himself in an amused manner that they seem to be making a habit of staring at each other for longer than average periods of time. "The part about you being loud? Cuz, yeah, I meant every word. You're a walking catastrophe." She's smirking at him. He rolls his eyes her words.

"Couldn't care less about that. In fact, I'm glad my emotions are as obnoxious as I am- means they've been driving you crazy for a while now." Her smile falters a bit at that line. "What I want to know," he continues. "Is if you kiss everyone whose mind you go digging into like that." He still has not taken his eyes off her, and he's not going to start now, when she blushes and ducks her head under the collar of her red bomber jacket.

"That was a… last minute choice."

"What for?"

"I had to get close enough to you to make contact. I've only been practicing with Dowling for a few weeks and I didn’t want to screw it up. I can't really do the whole mind thing without some sort of contact just yet…" Her words drift off.

"Hand holding didn't cut it? Had to go for a full make-out session, complete with lip biting and everything?" He watches as she shivers into her coat, arms wrapped around herself.

"You would've pushed me away."

"How did you know I wouldn't push you away while kissing me?" She mutters something under her breath. He doesn’t catch it, not between that stupid jacket that she's using to shield her face. He gently takes a step forward, catches her chin between his fingers just as he had done the night before, makes her meet his eyes. "Come again?"

She sucks in a breath, her eyes waver to something behind him when she finally lets it out, "We both know you weren't going to say no to me throwing myself at you."

"And if I did?" He doesn't know who he's kidding, but it’s still a game and he's still playing to… lose?

She's still staring behind him when she frowns and says, "Then we would have seen just how great this shirt would have looked on your bedroom floor, after all."

And goddamn it, her words send his blood boiling. He's about to kiss her senseless, but he refuses to do it if she's not staring at him when he asks one last question.

With his finger still hooked under her chin and them standing mere inches away, he whispered into the air between them, "Look at me, Musa."

Her eyes slowly move to meet his. He gives up his last question, which just so happens to be his first, "Did you mean it?" And when her small "Yes" makes its way through her lips as her steady brown eyes catch his green ones, that's all the confirmation he needs.

His finger leaves her chin and moves to her head and then he's pulling her in, closer and closer and closer until she's all he can feel and smell and see and breathe. And she responds with the same vigor she used last night, wasting no time to wrap her arms around his neck and lock him to her. It's a new kind of game, one where they battle for dominance until they both run out of breath and need to break free. It makes him stronger, it breaks him down, it makes him wonder why the hell he ever wanted to win against her when he could instead let her win and lose himself to her as he is right now. And when his hands pull the pins from both buns from her hair as he kisses down her neck, she groans in half pleasure and half annoyance.

"I'll have to fix them again now," she whines, pouting her bottom lip out, which he takes as an invitation to bite and pull on it.

"You'll manage. Let me just have this now. I've been waiting a while to see you with your hair fully down." She scoffs but lets him stare at her in awe once he finds it in him to pull back from her lips in order to get a view his handiwork.

And to think, it all started with some fucking pigtails.

[thatdoctorharvey]

Hi howdy ho neighborino! I’ve been reading some of your fics and I love them! I was wondering if you could write something where the farmer has married Harvey but Harvey gets jealous of the other bachelors that farmer has high friendship with angst. I saw the flowers fic and I thought it was super cool but it would be cute for things to work out in the end

Okay so for this one, I saw the perfect opportunity to do a little snippet of how my Harvey x Reader book is going to be. It’s not gonna be anything directly from the book but it will give you a pretty good idea as to how everything will be written.

Also, for the sake of Sam can’t pick out a name for his band, I’m going to use the name of my Uncle’s former band (I got his permission, don’t worry). This will be important.

I did kind of incorporate flowers into this as well. Gotta have the flowers prompt with a good ending too, right?

I also apologize. The pacing for this is a bit rushed and there isn’t much Harvey at the beginning but you’ll see why.

This was the last thing you expected. It had been years since you had been to the city. Yet here you were.

“You ready for this (y/n)?” Sam asked you, seeming to be pretty pumped up.

“Always!” You replied, brushing your hair out of your face.

You looked beside you at the equipment. It was just the mics and guitars, the rest being among the other band members. For once, you were nervous. The last time you performed in the city, you had made a fool of yourself. You silently hoped no one remembered as it was the reason you ended your musical career.

Abigail suddenly tapped your shoulder from the seat beside you, leaning into the isle and waiting for you. You quickly snapped out of your little trance and leaned to her, feeling like a teenager back in high school again.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“Are you and Harvey okay? I didn’t see him talk to you when we were loading up and he’s all the way in the back.” She asked you.

You took a quick glance back to the crowd of townsfolk on the bus. Sure enough, there he was, the very back of the bus, by himself. He looked to be bored as he stared out the window.

“I mean, he’s been very meh lately with talking to me, but I’ve also been practicing with you guys a lot for the past couple months to prepare for this.” You looked back at her. “He wasn’t happy when I said I offered to sit with the equipment to make sure it didn’t break on the way there.”

Abigail looked to Harvey and then quickly back to you. “Shit. He saw me looking.”

“So, (y/n), I was thinking, maybe we could perform one of your old songs?” Sam suddenly interrupted. 

You and Abigail both looked to him. It didn’t take long to realize that, not just Sam, but Abigail and Sebastian were looking at you now. They had been talking about this for a while and had been practicing when you weren’t around.

“Wh..which one?” You asked, a little nervous.

“We won’t tell you until the end. That’s when we want to perform it!” Sam smiled brightly.

Abigail grabbed your hand. “Pleeeeease! It’s a good one!”

You sat back in your seat and let out a breath. Harvey had only heard you sing a select few times, but to hear one of your old songs with how he’s been acting. It just wasn’t a good idea...But it was just a song, right?

“What the hell, let’s do it.” You suddenly said, looking at your guitar case beside you. “But just one!”

All three of them fist pumped and looked to Pam, who was giving them a dirty look. Luckily, they had arrived at the spot they would be performing so they had a valid excuse to leave.

“Alright you four! Get your stuff and get off the bus!” Pam grumpily said in a semi-joking manner.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.” You mumbled to yourself and grabbed as much equipment as possible. Kent and Demetrius helped get everything off the bus and onto the stage. Everyone riding was going to have some fun in the city until the concert, aside from a select few who would stay and help set up. Harvey was not one of them.

“Alright, (y/n), once we get set up, do you mind doing your thing while we check equipment?” Sam asked.

“Sure! I know none of you will sing into the mics to test them so I might as well.” You jokingly replied, taking off your hoodie to show the upper half of your band outfit. It was a bit revealing but nothing super intense. It also hugged your body fairly well. “Let’s get this going so we can get this show on the road!”

All three of your bandmates cheered. This was big for all of you. Sure, you’d had a few decent sized crowds in bars before, but this was a whole new thing. You were about to perform on a stage! A real stage! There weren’t just going to be drunk men and weird girls! There were going to be hundreds of people! Even your husband was going to be there!

...Harvey…

“Hey! Come on, you gotta help me with the mics.” Sam suddenly said, snapping you out of your thoughts. The sky had darkened a bit but not too much. Just enough to notice that time had passed.

“O-oh! Sorry! I got distracted.” You said and walked to your mic. “Just let me know when you have them all on.”

Sam nodded and went to the little booth, turning all the mics on and muting all but yours. “Good to go! Abigail, Sebastian, you know the routine.”

The three of you nodded and began the process. You had done this many times back at home. You had performed some of your more family friendly music during the events through the year, and of course, this meant you had set up the mics before.

So there you were. The middle of Zuzu City. The crowd began to form as your singing began to test the mics. Even though it sounded weird since you had to move from mic to mic, it still sounded good. You didn’t know that your husband was listening though. And the song you were singing was hitting him like a ton of bricks. Memories...Was he nothing but a memory now?

Soon enough, the time came. The crowd stood in front of the stage, the townsfolk among them. You couldn’t seem to spot your husband though, but you knew he was out there. Perhaps the lights were making you unable to see him. They were already affecting your vision.

“Hello everyone!” Sam spoke. “We are from Pelican Town!” He seemed to be oddly confident, something that everyone in town knew wasn’t right, especially for a first big performance like this. “And we are the Block Party Massacre!”

And just like that, everything began. Everyone began to play their instruments and you sang. The crowd cheered and clapped after each song. Once you reached the final song, you nearly cried. Some of the people in the crowd began to sing along. It brought back memories and it truly touched your heart to know that  your fans still remembered your songs.

But, like everything else, the concert came to an end. You helped get everything cleaned and loaded up before looking around. At last second, you saw Harvey getting on the bus. Immediately you went to Abigail.

“Hey, you mind sitting with the equipment? I...I think I should sit with Harvey.” You asked her.

“Sure! Just, go easy on him. He looked pretty hurt, especially during the last song.” She replied.

You simply gave a nod and hurried over to the bus. You took a breath before getting on and looking at the seats. Harvey was still in the same place, the very back. You made your way back there, slowly sitting beside him. He jumped a bit, seeming to have been in his own world.

“O-oh. Hi.” He said when he realized who had sat beside him.

You offered a smile. “Hi my love. Did you have fun?”

Harvey just gave you a look. Not one of love nor hate. More like hurt. Out of instinct, you gently grabbed his hand, turning your body to face him.

“Harvey. Look at me.” You said softly. “What’s wrong? You’ve been like this since I started practicing with them.”

The doctor looked at you for a minute and then to your hands. He wanted to say so much but his anxiety ridden mind wouldn’t let him.

“Do you love me?” He suddenly asked after a few short moments.

You offered a soft smile and rested your head on his shoulder. Was that why he was making a big fuss?

“Of course I do! I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t. What made you think I didn’t?”

“You...You just never talked to me and you always got home late and you were so close with Sam a-and Sebastian and Abigail an-”

“Harvey.” You placed a finger on his lips as you looked back up at him. “You are the only one I love. I tried making you breakfast and dinner but you always let it sit out. I tried to talk to you but you always ignored me. I thought you were pushing me away, so I started opening up my schedule to practices. That’s what I’ve been doing the past few months.”

The doctor didn’t know what to say.

“Answer me this; would I ever want to leave you, my comfy pillow and cuddle bug, for Sam?” You poked his belly for emphasis on the pillow part. “You are everything I wanted and more. Hell, I didn’t even know what I really wanted until I met you.”

“But...The song…”

“I wrote that a long time ago. Didn’t you hear? People were singing along. How would they know a song the band wrote if they had never heard it before?” You chuckled a little bit and hugged him.

“I…” Harvey slowly wrapped his arms around you. “I guess that is true.” His grip tightened slightly, but not enough to hurt you. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey. It’s fine. We can cuddle when we get home. That always cheers you up.” You said happily. “Just, please communicate with me next time. I don’t want you to be hurt like this. It hurts my heart.”

He kissed the top of your head, looking up when he heard the bus start up. “Yeah...I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

And with that, you two headed home.

BONUS

The fire crackled as you rested on the couch. It was a rather peaceful night, the sky clear and the animals not too loud. Crickets could be heard if you listened closely, but you didn’t want to listen to them. You would rather listen to something else.

“(Y/n), are you certain you’re comfortable?” Harvey asked, a hand rested on your back. The other held a glass of wine that he’d been sipping on. “You don’t look to be.”

“Oh trust me Harvey, I am.” You assured your husband, nuzzling a bit against his belly as your arms slightly tightened their grip around his waist to indicate a hug. “I am always comfortable when I lay on my pillow.”

He blushed and took another sip of his wine before setting the glass on the side table. He was half laying on the couch, you on top of him. On the coffee table in front of you was a vase that contained a small bouquet of flowers. He had made it for you once you two had gotten home as an apology for his behavior. In return, you gave him some of your finest wine that you had planned on selling to make up for everything.

“I love you Harvey. Don’t ever forget it.” You half whispered, looking up at him.

The doctor couldn’t help but smile back, his face still red. “I love you too (y/n).”

“I will never forget it.”

[chierushi]

Hello by SEVENTEEN

Around 2017, I saw Pretty U (dance version) being shown almost every week at someone’s house. Their kid really liked them. Eventually, the KPop group kind of grew on me after watching it for several times, and they really do have good choreography.

I got curious and searched them up on YouTube. They’ve got more insane dances. They debuted around 2015, and were getting attention by that time, so I’ve got a lot of material to consume. I kept watching their dance rehearsal videos and ended up listening to those songs on repeat.

Simply stating this as a matter of fact: I’m usually not into KPop. It’s hard for me to fancy songs I can’t understand. I also actively refuse viewership to anything mainstream, thinking they don’t need more fans. I prefer to consume less known artists. But in the case of SVT, they demanded to make an exception. They spoke to me through dance, a universal language, and I heard their plea.

Even though I’ve watched their rehearsals a lot of times, I didn’t bother to know their names. Without effort, I could distinguish faces of S.Coups, Vernon, DK, Woozi, and The8 whenever they’re at the center. (There was no way for me to see their faces up close because I didn’t watch any of the official music videos, too. They’re 13 people; usually the cameras were setup too far the whole time to cover all of them) The reasons: S.Coups, The8, and DK have pretty recognizable voices, while Vernon and Woozi have distinct physical features.

Their first singles were pop, to which I lean more into. But around 2019, they became more rock, hip-hop, and EDM. I was probably not yet ready for those at that time, or maybe it was a mismatch of interest. I moved on.

This year, 2022. Most of the people I follow on stan twitter became fond of Mingyu and Wonwoo. While the retweets were mostly about shipping them (it is a BL stan Twitter, of course the gays go gaga over Mingyu and Wonwoo separately, and together, they’re a match made in heaven), Some do include their performances. Remembering how badly I was into them years ago, I muted all possible keywords and specific accounts.

Frankly though, I did check on their discography once or twice during my denial phase. They still didn’t appeal to me, not as much as what happened back then. I let the MinWon content on my timeline and just skipped through those tweets.

A few weeks ago, I saw a video compilation of all their dance rehearsals from past to present…and it got me HOOKED. That was probably either nostalgia or anxiety (I’m having depressive episodes these days) that turned things around. I started watching their performances again on YouTube, and had ‘em playing in the background at shuffle while at work. This time, I’ve got so much more discoveries.

It took me a week overconsuming Going Seventeen (a variety show of some sort that they host) funny clips to be able to recognize who’s who. This is also the reason why I’m dead hyper fixed on them. They’re not Running Man-level kind of variety, and they’re idols, not comedians, but I enjoy their dynamics as a group. It’s fun seeing each of them interact with quiet members, steal the spotlight (and some of them are shameless about this, which is alright! They’re celebrities!), their natural comic timing, etc.

I’ve seen clips of them as teenagers who are trainees, and I think that’s one of their secrets. They’ve been literally living with each other for so long (and as kids even) that they have learned who needs more attention, compassion, and who needs to be left alone on most days. They’ve seen each other’s quirks and have learned to be okay with it. They’ve learned to adjust for each other willingly. Combining family with work is tough, but they manage it somehow. Of course, with unending dance practices, that kind of relationship helped their performance to get to the level of where they are now. When they dance, they move as one. The synchronization is crazy.

All this, I also have to give credits to S.Coups wonderful leadership. He’s always the first one to look out for each of them, yet, you don’t feel the hierarchy. He is bossy, even the members have joked about this, yet they willingly submit to him because respect has been earned (probably also recognizing seniority is an Asian thing). They are so varied individuals, and sometimes you can feel the struggle of some to connect, but it is S.Coups that always makes way, and the members follow. I rarely see that side of him though; he’s always having fun with everyone, even being teased.

I’ve seen this one video of them singing live of mash-up of their songs, and they’re really amazing! They are grouped into three sub-units, but all of them can really sing, dance, and rap with ease; I sometimes question why there’s a need to divide themselves when they can all sing and dance really well.

In October, they will be having a concert here in Manila, and I want to come! It has always been a dream of mine to watch them perform live, but knowing how KPop fandom works, I doubt if I’ll get VIP tickets. As much as possible, I don’t want a seat far from the stage, and only see them on a big screen. I want to see them up close, not breathe the same air. It’s better to watch the stream if that’s the case. Getting into this, I thought, it’s kind of dangerous for someone like me, because I have no kids, no dating life, and I earn more than enough to cover my bills.

Anyway, I’ll see if I’ll have the energy to fight for a good seat on that concert, or if my laziness would continue to topple everything, even my love for Jun (one of the members and my bias). I don’t really have an idea how to end this dump; I think it’s obvious from how poorly written this blog is. But yeah~ I love them.