#phantom norway

[operafantomet]

Big mirror / small mirror

The current Middle East / European Tour seems to alternate between two different mirrors. For the original production in Romania 2015 and the current revamped version premiering in Norway 2018-2019 they featured a big, round window/mirror with such a depth Christine could sit inside it. For the mirror scene she therefore sat there.

For the Greek premiere in 2020 they introduced a smaller mirror for the Thessaloniki stop, while Athens had the bigger one.

When the production continued to Riyadh, Dubai and Sofia in 2023-2024, they kept using the small mirror. But it looks like the big mirror had a comeback for the Sofia revisit in 2024.

Me? I'm "Team Big Mirror" all the way. As the stage is quite bare, apart from Christine's dressing room, it has a bolder visual impact. It also means Christine can walk through the mirror instead of crawl through it. A tad more elegant. But the smaller mirror makes the Phantom more visible, so I guess both versions has its merits.

(Photos from top: Bucharest 2015, Oslo 2018, Oslo 2018, Thessaloniki 2020, Athens 2020, Thessaloniki 2023, Dubai 2024, Sofia April 2024, Sofia September 2024)

[ballerinadellamusica]

Confirmed cast members for the Middle East tour:

Rachel Bird

David Burilin

Ester Cameron

Grace Chapman

Maria Conneely

Paul Erbs

Daniel Jagusz-Holley

Michael Kirby

Ebony Jayne Kitts

Rhidian Marc

Rebecca Ridout

Nikki Skinner

These people have been confirmed to be part of the tour by their agents or Spotlight cvs.

[norwegianfantasia]

Figures, badges, keychains, and games for sale:

I accept payment through PayPal send a direct message and I'll weigh them and find the shipping price and send them out as soon as possible. Prices are for each, so if you want all 4 Inuyasha oval badges will that be 20usd.

Badges:

Inuyasha oval: 5usd (Kikyo, Kouga, Miroku, Sesshoumaru)

Inuyasha round: 4usd (Shippou, Kagome, Miroku, Sango, and Sesshoumaru)

Zombie Land Saga: 6usd (Sakura Minamoto, Tae Yamada, Junko Konno, Ai Mizuno)

Digimon Adventure 02: 6usd Iori Hida, Miyako Inoue, Ken Ichijouji, Daisuke Motomiya)

Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne/Phantom Thief Jeanne: 4usd (Jeanne, Fin Fish, nervous Maron, Miyako Todaiji, Sinbad, Chiaki Nagoya, happy Maron, surprised Maron, floral Maron)

Keychains:

Inuyasha: 8usd (Sesshoumaru, Kikyo, Miroku, Kouga, Kouga flattening Inuyasha, Slapped Miroku, bumped Shippou, Sesshoumaru stepping on Jaken, Inuyasha playing with Buyo, embarrassed Sango)

Splatoon: 20usd (Spyke)

Figures: (first two based on ebay prices but lower)

Final Fantasy Static Arts Mini*: Sephiroth (slightly damaged box lid 60usd, box in perfect shape but sword fell down 100usd), Tifa (150usd)

Attack on Titan Ichiban Kuji Ymir and Krista (80usd)

Hunter x Hunter sitting (20usd, Chrollo Lucilfer, Shalnark, Feitan Portor)

19th century office blind box (18usd 10/10 left, perfect for making an office for Dai Gyakuten Saiban characters)

Nintendo DS Games: (these are Norwegian exclusives** and region free, still sealed, not dumped online)

Flunkene Superskurker (50usd, 10/10 left, here they are supervillains)

Flunkene På Månen (50usd, 10/10 left, here they go to the moon)

Vinter i Blåfjell (100usd as there's just 1, based on a cinematic universe, if you want can I try getting as much of it to go with it as possible, so the TV shows and the movie)

Lego:

Lego Technic 8272 (100usd, unopened*** but the box is a little banged since it's been years)

Feel free to ask any questions.

* I was planning to use these for some customizing before I noticed nendoroids so the figures themselves are mint as I haven't touched them.

** I have nothing against sending them to a streamer/let's player/reviewer of your choice if you want them to try another language, I won't be insulted by they pronouncing anything wrong as I find it funny)

*** my family gave it to a cousin of mine for Christmas many years ago, but his overprotective mother returned it before he even opened it in case it was something that could hurt him 😓, kid was 12.

[liljakonvalj]

Things I find amusing; the Scandinavians wildly differing on which ages should get to see the 25th anniversary DVD of phantom of the opera

[Image description: a photo of the back of a DVD case. At the bottom the age restrictions for the different countries says in order from left to right

Sverige -Barntillåten (sweden -allowed for children)

Danmark- tilladt for börn over 15 år (denmark- allowed for children over 15 years old)

Norge- aldersgrense 11 år (norway- allowed for children past 11 years old)]

Since the countries are so uneven i come to you tumblr for guidence:

[metalroom]

THE METAL ROOM SESSIONS #khold #phantom #norway🇳🇴 #vinyl #vinylcommunity #vinylcollection #vinyloftheday #vinyladdiction #vinylclub #vinylrecords #vinyladdict #vinyladdict #vinyljunkie #vinylcollectionpost #vinylcommunity #vinylporn #vinyllovers #mexicanvinylcollector🇲🇽 #projectturntables #metalroom #moonfogproductions #peacevillerecords @kholdofficial https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpa2fS7pfon/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 9 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mutual pining, angst, SLOOOWW BUURNNN

words: 9.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 9 ► the silence is one thing that i’ll remember you said. well, it’s better than nothing when nothing’s all that you left

The next morning was warm.

It was such a stark contrast to last night that you couldn’t help but still feel phantom shivers on your skin when you got off the bus to stretch your legs. It was still two more hours to Oslo, and it was unreasonably early to be awake, considering you did not return to the bus until sunrise—a mere half an hour before the scheduled departure for Norway.

Everyone else was still asleep, which made sense: they must have returned to the bus sometime very late, too. Granted, when you and Jungkook reached the restaurant on Strandvägen yesterday, your team was no longer there—but that didn’t mean they went to sleep as soon as they returned.

To be fair, you hadn’t expected to find them at the restaurant anyway. But after the abrupt end of your conversation with Jungkook on the bridge, you had hoped for a distraction. Something to take your mind off the uncomfortable gaping hole inside you.

Jungkook had suggested last night that you take a taxi back to the tour bus, and you were almost ready to walk back on your own.

It confused you—this unexpected longing for something you dared not name—but it also frightened you. Therefore, you were glad that when the bus reached Oslo, Jungkook was still asleep.

You felt like you needed a minute—to convince yourself that whatever you thought you’d felt in the air last night was more wishful thinking than anything else. Because here’s the thing about wishful thinking: it was yours. And everything that was yours, you could extinguish. You could put it out like you’d done countless times before.

So, several hours later in Oslo, you gave Yoongi very strict instructions to keep the band close and make sure they rested before tomorrow’s performance. And then you took your girls to explore the city, sightsee and drink as much coffee as you could find.

Unfortunately for Jungkook, sightseeing was something he also wanted to do with you once you arrived in Oslo. He had a lot to tell you; he knew he owed you an explanation. He just wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened, let alone what hadn’t happened.

But when he woke up on the bus, you had already left, taking Maggie and Luna with you. So, not only did he have to wallow in his thoughts, but he also had to deal with a sulking Taehyung, who never openly admitted why he was sulking, but it was obvious enough. Even though he texted Luna all day, she wasn’t physically there with him, and that wasn’t enough.

Jungkook was annoyed. He should have seen this coming—he tended to sleep in while you tended to not—but he realised he had expected you to stay. He’d expected a reaction. Perhaps he’d hoped you would demand that he explained himself and why the two of you had gone from I-miss-you to let’s-walk-and-not-look-at-each-other.

Your reaction, however, was no reaction at all.

You and the girls went out, which for the three of you, meant getting ice cream and walking the city streets until you found something interesting. Sometimes this took up the whole day. You loved it—especially today.

But then, just as you were approaching what looked like a castle with crowds of tourists flocking to it—Luna discovered it was the Royal Palace, which should have been obvious, but you and Maggie still ooh-ed and ahh-ed at Luna’s Google Maps skills—your phone started to ring.

Licking your ice cream hurriedly so it wouldn’t melt completely while you talked, you walked away from the girls to take the call.

You were half-expecting an emergency, but before you could really be disappointed that you had to end your excursion, you noticed the unknown number on the screen of your phone. You briefly considered not answering, but you saw that the number had an area code from home.

You thought it might be your brother calling. Once again, you considered not answering, still angry at him for his recklessness and your mum’s tears. But responsibility won over, and you picked up.

On the other end of the line was a man asking for you. For a moment, you were confused, because the voice sounded familiar, but the owner of it didn’t seem to know who he was talking to.

“This is she,” you responded to your own name. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Oh, you sound so different for some reaso—it’s Nick,” the man said, and you stopped chewing on the waffle cone of your ice cream in surprise.

Nick Zhou had been your supervisor after you graduated and started to work at the company where you now managed Rated Riot. Back then, you were just an intern before being promoted to assistant manager for an indie rock band with the ominous name The Jungle Will Get You, when you were only 23 years old. Nick was their manager then, and he never admitted it, but you knew he’d pulled some strings to get you that job.

A little over a year later, you took over the management of Rated Riot, and you haven’t spoken to Nick since. He went on to manage Reconnaissance, one of the biggest alternative rock bands in the country, if not the world. Just being their manager made Nick more popular than Rated Riot at the moment.

You thought things had worked out well for you both, so there was simply no reason for you to stay in touch.

You figured the reason he was calling you now had to mean good things for Rated Riot. Supporting Reconnaissance on tour? Perhaps a collaboration?

“Nick!” was the first word out of your mouth after the surprise had subsided. “So nice to hear from you again.”

“I heard you were in Europe? That’s huge!” he said, which was kind of him, because Reconnaissance were selling out stadiums.

“We are, yeah. Oslo right now,” you said, smiling at Maggie, who approached you and tugged on your arm like a toddler wanting to go on a ride at an amusement park. Except in this case, the ‘ride’ was a wine bar down the street from the palace. You nodded, and that was permission enough for her to jog over to Luna and drag the two of you towards the bar, never mind that it was 3 PM. You said into the phone, “how are you? You’re going to Australia soon, right?”

“Next week, yeah,” Nick said. “The new album’s coming shortly after that.”

“Ah, another tour,” you said with a teasing chuckle—you knew how much Nick hated flying. Even the Reconnaissance members talked about their ‘air-sick manager’ in almost every interview they did. “Good luck in advance!”

Nick chortled in irony. “Thanks, I’m going to need it. That’s actually, uh, the reason I’m calling.”

Your heart rate picked up as the ice cream melted in your hand. “Yeah?”

“Yes. See, we had some—er, situations,” he paused here as if searching for a better word. After he didn’t find one, he continued with the one he had picked, “and because of these situations, I’m putting together a new team. With the new album coming out soon, we’re on a really tight schedule.”

“Right,” you said. You could already hear him asking if Rated Riot would like to be the supporting act, and maybe even participate in Reconnaissance’s new album.

“Well, that’s why I’m calling you,” he said. “The management here is just me and this guy, Mark, who can’t dial a phone number to save his life, but he’s a great sport. Keeps the band alive. But I need more people. Preferably someone with, uh, experience.”

He paused meaningfully, but it still took you a minute to realise that he hadn’t contacted you about Rated Riot. He had contacted you about you.

You watched Maggie and Luna enter the wine bar, take your ice cream from you, and make a beeline for the cash register, all while you stood in the doorway.

“I’m—uh—Nick.” There was an uncomfortable lump of surprise in your throat. Your hands felt sticky and your mouth felt dry.  “I’m—I manage Rated Riot.”

“I know,” he said, “and they’re a very promising band, tons of potential,” he paused here, hesitating, “but I thought—well, this is sort of different, isn’t it?”

You would have scoffed if you weren’t so stunned. “Well, of course.”

“Yeah. So, I just—we need an assistant manager. Fast,” Nick said. “And you were the first person I thought of. I mean, we’ve worked together before. I know your strengths and I admire your work ethic. I think you’d be a great addition to our team.”

Overwhelmed, you barely managed to find your words. “I… appreciate the offer. But I don’t think I can just—”

“Think about it, okay?” he interrupted you, aware of the abruptness and sheer mass of this offer. “We’ll be back from Australia next month, so you don’t need to give me an answer right away. Just—the sooner the better, of course. But you can think about it. I just wanted to let you know that I have an opening, and I’d love it if you joined us.”

“I—okay.” The faint smell of grapes and old wood around the wine bar seemed to grow stronger the longer that you stood here, still frozen. “Thank you, Nick.”

“I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” he said. “Take care, yeah?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, you too. Thanks again.”

The three beeps after he ended the call reverberated in your head, and it was another half-minute before you moved the phone from your ear. You looked at it in disbelief, as if it had been someone else who’d just had this conversation, and you had merely overheard it.

In an attempt to ground yourself, you tried to simplify your loud thoughts into whispers of an adequate noise.

There was an opening to be Reconnaissance’s assistant manager.

You’d have to take a step back, do more mundane tasks, similar to the ones you did back when you were Nick’s assistant that first time. But if you said yes, you’d be working with one of the biggest bands in the world right now.

But you couldn’t leave Rated Riot. You were their manager. You believed in them, and you loved everyone on this team.

“You look like you just found out Santa isn’t real,” Maggie’s voice brought you back to the present. She had come to get you, so you’d stop blocking the entrance for others. “Who was that?”

You still felt very hot and half-choked, so you tried to loosen the collar of your white tank top. The denim jacket you wore over it didn’t help much with the heat inside of you, either.

“Um,” you looked around as you slipped out of your jacket. “Can we get some wine first?”

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

You nodded, and before you could give a verbal response, Maggie was already calling out to your friend, who was about to place her order, “Luna! Grab some doubles! We have something going on.”

It took the girls about two minutes to find a table—granted, a couple of tourists who saw Maggie dragging you through the wine bar while you were trying to regain proper consciousness got scared and left, which helped a lot—and settle down.

As soon as you took the first sip, catching the rich and savoury taste—perhaps a bit too savoury; it immediately made you scrunch your nose—Luna scooted closer to you on the navy-coloured velvet couch.

“What happened?” she asked. “Who was that on the phone?”

You set your glass down. “That was Nick. My former supervisor. Before I started to work with Rated Riot. He, um—he manages Reconnaissance.”

“Oh, shit!” Maggie exclaimed at the same time as Luna muttered, “I don’t really know them.”

“Oh!” Maggie gasped, turning to Luna. “Wait. Weren’t you at their show a few days ago? I saw on your Instagram.”

“Yeah, Taehyung took me. He brought me to the after-party, too, but—” she paused as she noticed that Maggie’s eyes looked ready to pop out. She explained, “oh, that was just to babysit Jungkook. He’s the one who really listens to Reconnaissance. I don’t know any of their songs. They sounded good, but I’m—”

“Oh my God!” Maggie gasped again. She had glitter in her eyes and all over her face. “Wait until we get back on the bus! I probably have five different notebooks full of their song lyrics. You’ll love them.”

Luna nodded her head once, then paused in the middle of the second nod. “Wait, you brought those notebooks on tour? Aren’t they heavy?”

“Kind of. But I like to have them with me. And I keep adding to them, so—” Maggie stopped when you picked up your glass again. Your movement seemed to remind her what the topic was before she digressed. She leaned back in her bright yellow armchair. “—which is not the point. So, what did that guy want? Nick.”

Both girls turned their attention back to you.

You took another sip of your wine and said, “well, I thought he wanted Rated Riot.”

Swirling her glass, Luna asked, “he didn’t?”

“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “Apparently, he wants me.”

Luna was the first to understand the implication as her eyebrows lifted and her chin dropped. Maggie, on the other hand, looked at Luna, and then back at you.

“Like… to work with him?” she asked. “To manage Reconnaissance?”

“Well, obviously not to perform with them on stage,” Luna said to her impatiently, then turned back to you. “Why does he want you?”

“He said he needed to find an assistant manager quickly,” you explained, “and since he knows me, he thought I’d be... suitable. For that job.”

You didn’t know what words to choose so you wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable talking about this. And, as you sat here with your friends and your glass of wine, you realised that a part of you didn’t believe you were even ready to work with someone like Reconnaissance. For the most part, you were terrified of it.

You hoped Rated Riot would reach their level one day, that’s true. But starting to work with a band that was already so outrageously popular felt a bit like being thrown into a pot of boiling water.

“Well, what did you say?” Maggie asked.

“I said no,” you replied, your vision blurring again. “I think.”

The two girls spoke up at the same time.

Luna repeated, “you think?” while Maggie asked, “why not?”

They exchanged a look – Maggie, surprised; Luna, slightly accusing.

“What?” Maggie said in response to her look. “This is big!” She put down her glass and leaned over to touch your knee, wanting to emphasise her point, “I love you, okay? And I love working with you and everyone else here, and I know you do, too. But this is just… huge.”

“I know,” you said, your gaze still wandering along the tiled wall behind Maggie’s armchair. You felt disoriented and the wine had very little to do with it. “But I—I mean, I can’t just leave.”

“I think you should talk to the guys,” Luna suggested. She managed to come to terms with the heaviness of the offer that Nick had made much faster than you did. It helped, of course, that she wasn’t the one who had to make a decision here, but she was making a reasonable point regardless.

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed, pointing at the girl on the couch next to you, and nodding eagerly at you. “Yeah. You should.”

You looked at both of them, then down at your glass, as if you could take a sip and it’d give you very clear directions of what to do next.

“But what can I say to them?” you asked. Then, in a voice meaning to imitate yourself, you said, “‘I might have an opportunity to leave you and work with a much bigger band.’ No. No, I don’t think so.”

Maggie squinted at you, unsure if she was the only one confused again. She asked carefully, “you… don’t think you’ll tell them this? Or you don’t think you’ll work with Reconnaissance?”

You finished your wine and set the glass back on the tray. The other girls’ glasses were still half-full.

“Neither, probably,” you replied. “I’d be—you know. If I went to work with Nick, I’d be fetching coffee for the other staff members and filling out paperwork. I already do that for Rated Riot anyway, but I don’t mind, because I don’t think we’re at a level where I’d need an assistant. But I—I want to reach that level with them. I want to be here every step of the way.”

If you’d lifted your eyes from the table in front of you, you would have seen the soft smile on Luna’s face. Instead, you heard it in her voice when she said, “that makes sense.”

Finally, you looked at her. “It does?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, I think you should sleep on it,” Maggie said, a different voice of reason. “Make sure this isn’t something you’ll regret later. Oh!” she clapped her hands. “You can even make a pros and cons list!”

You smiled while Luna snickered. She said to you, “pro: obviously, you wouldn’t be managing your ex-boyfriend—”

“Um?” Maggie cut in. “Con: you wouldn’t be managing your ex-boyfriend.”

Luna frowned at her. “How is that a con?”

Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Have you seen her ex-boyfriend?”

Luna’s frown dissipated as she laughed, and even you chuckled, too.

In her whole life, Maggie might have had one and a half doubts about not actually being gay; she was simply an artist to the core. And she was very vocal about how unbelievably easy it was to photograph Jungkook when he was on stage. He was, in a truly annoying way, effortlessly photogenic.

“I guess that’s a pro and a con,” you said. There was a lingering smile on your face—this time, the wine did have something to do with it.

When paired with the sudden anxiety of Nick’s offer, the wine helped you distance yourself from the last conversation you’d had with Jungkook. And maybe it was better, you decided, that your friends didn’t know about the walk you two had taken. You preferred the conversation as it was now — cosy, safe, and almost buoyant.

“Is there a time limit?” Luna asked suddenly. “Did Nick tell you a date?”

“No,” you said with a sigh. “He said he wanted an answer soon. So I don’t have to decide right this second. But I’m not really considering it, to be honest. It’s a great opportunity, sure, but I think working with Rated Riot is a great opportunity, too.”

Both girls nodded in unison, their expressions brightening. Slowly, as you felt the support in their warm gazes, the atmosphere in the wine bar began to lighten, too. They understood. And they agreed with your point.

Luna teased, “does the band pay you extra when you say nice things about them? Because I really love Rated Riot.”

You chuckled. “I wish they did.”

Maggie lifted her glass. “Be careful. If you start complimenting them to their faces, it’ll go straight to their heads. And then we’ll have to give their shows an R rating.”

“Well, that would help them live up to their name,” Luna pointed out and the three of you burst into a fit of giggles again—partially because of the wine, but in your case also because of relief.

Nick’s offer and the confusing feelings from last night did not seem all that troublesome at the moment. You could almost forget about them, focusing only on the way things were right now.

You were happy like this. You didn’t want anything to change.

As dusk fell, Jungkook began to hover his finger over your name in his contact list. Just then, Sid burst into the otherwise empty bus and slammed the door with so much force that the whole vehicle swayed a little.

Startled, Jungkook looked up.

“Dude!” he called out, poking his head out of his bunk to see his friend’s proud face. “Gentle.”

“I have the best plans for us tonight,” Sid said as if he hadn’t heard him. “You will not believe the kind of bars they have here in Norway.”

Although Jungkook doubted that the bars here were any different from the ones back home, he still climbed out of the bunk, more intrigued by the idea of having company than by the supposed uniqueness of Norwegian bars. “Yeah?”

Sid’s smile grew wider still when he saw the same reaction mirrored on Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Let’s go.”

Jungkook hesitated. He had told you last night that things wouldn’t be the same between him and Sid when they returned home. And he meant it; he would have preferred to spend time with you—right now and back home. But you weren’t here, and while he was waiting for you, everyone else made different plans. Even Taehyung. And Jungkook hated being alone.

Grabbing his jacket, he climbed out of the bunk and allowed Sid to lead him outside, where the rest of their friends were already waiting.

They were like a herd of sheep, Jungkook thought unexpectedly while Sid ushered him out of the bus, the way they followed Sid. Why didn’t they ever protest or suggest their own ideas?

But as he looked at his friends – Jude and Minjun fighting over something on Jude’s phone, shoving the device in each other’s faces and shouting; Sid smacking them both on the backs of their heads, providing his own wisdom to their argument – he knew.

They stayed quiet, because the four of them were always together in the same way: with Sid in the lead, and the others following behind him. That’s the way it has always been. Jungkook knew that if one of them had a genuine problem with this, he would not be taken seriously. Or it would be the last time he could call them friends.

It was either this, or nothing at all.

That night, the four of them ended up in a cocktail bar in Oslo, a significant distance away from the tour bus and the rest of the crew. Jungkook didn’t understand why Sid had chosen this particular place until his friend winked and gestured towards the stairs leading to the basement.

“What’s down there?” Jungkook was dumb enough to ask.

Grateful for the chance to show off, Sid grinned and draped an arm around Jungkook’s shoulders as he led him—along with Jude and Minjun, who were looking around like this was a zoo—to the basement.

“Only the greatest thing to come out of Europe,” Sid explained. “You can thank me later.”

He didn’t.

It was an underground burlesque club with only three dancers, all of whom appeared so intimidating that Jungkook was convinced they could stab the four of them with their nails alone, if any of the boys looked them in the eye for too long. He didn’t dare to try.

Sid loved it.

Jungkook preferred the bar upstairs.

Minjun seemed to agree, so the two went back up for another round, while Jude stayed back. Despite occasionally acting like he hated Sid’s guts, Jude always stayed close to him, almost like an addict, who knew that this drug was bad for him, but still couldn’t break the habit.

“Do you think they’ll make it out alive?” Minjun asked as they waited for their drinks at the bar.

“I don’t think they’re getting out at all,” Jungkook replied. “It’s like siren screams for Sid.”

“That’s true. And if Sid stays, Jude stays.”

Jungkook nodded, his expression grim.

“So, D-11,” Minjun said. It took Jungkook a second to realise that he was counting down the days to the end of the bet. “How’s it going?”

He gave his friend a look. “I’m in a bar with you. How do you think it’s going?”

Minjun smiled and nodded to the bartender to thank him for bringing the drinks. Then he held his glass out to Jungkook.

“A toast,” he declared. Jungkook rolled his eyes and picked up his own glass. “May you win this bet, because Sid on a motorcycle is a menace I want nothing to do with.”

Snorting, Jungkook clinked his glass against his and they both downed their drinks in several big gulps.

“He’s not getting the bike,” Jungkook said, setting his glass down with new-found determination. Hearing Minjun mention the possibility of Sid winning the Katana made it feel more realistic. He had to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Do you need my help?” Minjun asked as if reading his mind.

Jungkook looked up from the bar top. “You couldn’t help even if I asked. We signed an agreement that we wouldn’t tell her.”

“You and Sid signed it,” Minjun pointed out. “I was just the person who typed it all out in my fucking Notes. I’m not legally bound to abide by the conditions of the deal. And, actually, neither are you. It’s just a—”

“Why would you help me?” Jungkook interrupted. His friend’s final sentences had evidently flown over his head. “I’ve hardly got anything to offer you in return.”

Minjun shrugged. “I just don’t want Sid to win.”

Jungkook swallowed. He found himself hoping, suddenly, that there was more to this. That if he really kicked Sid off the tour and out of his life, there would at least be one person who wouldn’t leave with him. One person who would stay.

“I don’t know what you could do,” Jungkook said. “Putting in a good word for me probably wouldn’t do much.”

“No?” his friend said, then looked down at his glass thoughtfully. “Okay. We can go full mentalist on her.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Dropping certain objects in her living space that leave imprints of you in her subconscious,” Minjun said completely seriously. “It’s simple.”

“Dude.” Jungkook blinked. “I don’t know where this—this Sherlockian shit is coming from, but I’m not going to mess with her head.”

Minjun was about to scoff, but held back because the offence on Jungkook’s face at the—apparently, preposterous—suggestion seemed genuine. As if Minjun didn’t know what he was saying. As if this was serious, and Jungkook didn’t want to ruin it by playing games.

Minjun pointed out, “but you already are messing with her head.”

If possible, Jungkook looked even more appalled. “I’m—that’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what’s the difference between what you’re doing and what I’m suggesting?”

“Well, I’m not trying to—I’m not sneaking around and forcing her to think about me,” Jungkook said, looking away from his friend and meeting the bartender’s gaze. He nodded, and the man behind the bar approached the two friends with a bottle of whiskey.

“It’s not force, technically,” Minjun explained as they watched the bartender refill their drinks. “It’s just how your brain works. You see something that reminds you of someone, and it sticks with you whether you’re aware of it or not.”

“I’d like for that to happen naturally,” Jungkook said, aware that he was the naïve one here. But he liked to think of it as hope. And he had that right—he was the only one who really knew you. The only one who could guess whether you were thinking about him or not.

Minjun shrugged and picked up his glass as soon as it was filled. “It’s your call. I’m just trying to speed up the process.”

Jungkook brought his own drink to his lips, but paused when Minjun spoke up again.

“Let me ask you something, though,” he said. “Before you get too far ahead of yourself.”

Even before he heard the question, Jungkook already felt queasy. “What is it?”

“Do you genuinely want to get back together with her?” Minjun asked.

There seemed to be no ill intentions behind the question, but Jungkook spent a full minute watching him and reading his expression.

Minjun was quick to notice his uncertainty. He reassured, “I’m asking because I care. Not because I want to make fun of you. I know you love her, but this—well, I’m just wondering if you want to act on these feelings.”

Jungkook looked down again. “Yeah, uh, I do. It’s not just about the bet for me.”

Minjun had suspected as much, so he wanted to broach the subject when no one else was around.

“But you still think making a bet out of it is the way to go?” he inquired.

Jungkook knew where this was going. And he still tried to appear nonchalant.

“I mean, I’m in this mess anyway, so why not actually win this?” he replied with a laid-back shrug that was so laid-back, it only amplified the fact that it was not laid-back at all.

“Jungkook,” Minjun said, startling him. Normally, the four of them addressed each other as ‘dude’ or the occasional ‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’. Hearing his name felt strange, almost foreboding.

“There’s so many reasons why not,” Minjun continued. “The most important one being that you come out of this as a winner twice. You get her and you get the bike. But all she gets is the realisation that someone she’s letting back into her life has lied to her.”

Defensively, Jungkook demanded, “when did I lie?”

“You’re getting back together with her because of the bet!”

“It’s not because of—it’s not just because of the bet. I just told you.”

“But she doesn’t know about it,” Minjun countered, poking holes in Jungkook’s feeble defensive shield. It was more like a flimsy piece of paper than a shield, really; just something he’d hoped to fool himself—and you—into believing. “She doesn’t know what else is at stake. It’s not fair.”

“Okay,” Jungkook turned in his seat to face Minjun, leaning his elbow against the bar top. “What are you trying to tell me? That I should lose the bet on purpose? To show her that I care about her more than anything else?”

“No,” Minjun replied, less confident. Jungkook was likely not aware of this, but he could be very intimidating. For Minjun, who considered himself immune to most forms of intimidation after years of being friends with Sid, this was unusual and unsettling. “I’m not telling you anything. I’m just suggesting you think about it. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

Jungkook swallowed, his throat dry.

He knew that he had already drawn a subconscious line between simply wanting you back and wanting you back to win the bet. He worried about the exact thing that Minjun had just mentioned—that he couldn’t have both. He worried that it wouldn’t be fair to be with you again if he won.

This was what stopped him on the bridge. It’s what haunted his mind every time he thought about talking to you.

Deep down, he knew he would have to make a choice: either he won the bet, or he got back together with you.

And yet, he couldn’t let Sid win. The thought pressed on his mind with so much weight that he knew it wasn’t just you that he didn’t want to lose, and it definitely wasn’t just his bike. It was a matter of pride, too.

He was proving a point for all the years that Sid had asserted his superiority over him.

“You know, that never made any sense to me,” Jungkook said. Alcohol helped him feel more confident and less self-conscious. Maybe he should stay tipsy until the end of the bet. “That’s the whole point of the cake. You get it, and it’s not just there to fucking look at. It’s there to be eaten.”

Minjun could tell Jungkook felt defensive, so he didn’t take the aggression personally. Instead, he took a sip of his drink.

“Whatever, man,” he said. “It’s your life, in the end.”

“Yeah. It is,” Jungkook replied so firmly that it just sounded childish. He tried to soften his tone, “I appreciate yo—your concern, but I got this.”

“Okay,” his friend agreed because that was easier. They could have been at it for hours—and God knows, Jungkook and Sid had been at it for hours—but Minjun didn’t think it was worth it. He concluded, “that’s fine.”

“It is,” Jungkook agreed.

But it was clear that it wasn’t fine. Jungkook looked flushed as if he’d bathed in a barrel of whiskey, not merely drank two glasses of it.

After about half an hour, the silence became heavy. At first, Minjun had thought that he would rather throw himself down the stairs than return to the basement where Sid and Jude were. But now that seemed like a better alternative than sitting here with a sulking Jungkook.

“You know, uh, I think I’m going to go check on Sid and Jude,” he said while Jungkook ordered another—his fifth—glass. “Don’t want them to die in Oslo. Too big of a hassle to bring their bodies back home.”

Jungkook’s lip did not even twitch. But he nodded and Minjun slid off his chair. He glanced back at his friend as he went, not wanting to leave him alone, but also feeling like Jungkook was already alone anyway, even with him here.

Jungkook had always been good at isolating himself, even when surrounded by other people. Honestly, Minjun wasn’t sure if Jungkook even realised that he wasn’t sitting at the bar alone. He told Minjun once that he couldn’t stand silence, but Minjun knew that sometimes, Jungkook’s thoughts overwhelmed him without his consent. And once he got lost in his own mind, the rest of the world ceased to exist for him.

However, now that he was truly alone, Jungkook was struck by the heavy weight of his solitude. He would have agreed with Minjun – he really did have a monumental talent for disassociating anywhere, anytime. But to be able to drift off into his thoughts and turn the crowd into a blur, he needed a crowd in the first place.

Now that he was alone, all he could think about was that he was alone.

He certainly wasn’t going to follow his friends into the basement, so he got a few more drinks into his system for courage, and pulled his phone out—a painful reflex—to dial your number.

Needless to say, by the time you answered—it was 1 AM, but, of course, you answered—he was already slurring his words as he tried to explain why he’d called.

“Are you drunk?” was your first question as soon as you heard him try to introduce himself—pointlessly so, because at that point in your life, he was the only person who called you after midnight.

“Of course,” he said, with hints of offence in his voice. Why would he not be drunk? he rationalised.  “Do you want to come?”

He heard shuffling on the other end as he played with the napkin on the bar top. Funnily enough, despite his mind feeling pleasantly numb, he still felt twinges of anxiety in his stomach.

“Where even are you?” you finally asked. He was too drunk to notice the coldness in your voice.

“Sid took us to some bar,” he replied. “In Oslo.”

While you were relieved that Sid hadn’t driven them out of Norway before Jungkook even performed here, you also felt concerned that Jungkook was so disoriented that he needed to remind you of the city you were in.

“Are the rest of the guys there?” you asked. His friends were useless, of course, but perhaps Minjun could be trusted to take care of Jungkook if he blacked out.

“They’re downstairs,” he answered. “There’s some club. I didn’t want to go, so I called you. Do you want to come?”

You were confused by the repeated question—was this a matter of you wanting to come, or were you obligated to come as his manager?

He sensed your apprehension through the phone despite being intoxicated.

“I’m trying to see you,” he explained, his tongue struggling to bend the right way. All his Rs sounded like sloppy Ls and Ws. “You weren’t there when I looked for you earlier today.” You heard a bang – he’d slammed his palm against the bar top, forcing the nearby glasses to rattle – and he continued, whining now, “why are you so difficult for me to find?!”

“You’re drunk,” you stated in response. “And you’re not making any sense. Can you find your way to the bus, or do I have to pick you up?”

Half-mumbling, half-whining something incoherent, Jungkook leaned his arms on the bar top. He rested his head on them and pressed his phone against his ear harder as if that’d make you understand him better, make you enter his head somehow.

“You should come,” he said. “I’ll order for you.”

“How about you tell me exactly where you are first,” you replied.

He did – to the best of his ability in his current state – but Google Maps could hardly help you find the directions for “then we took two left turns and came up in front of his huge red brick building, might have been brown, I’m really drunk.” Finally, you managed to get him to just send you his pinned location and headed over there.

He stayed on his phone after you hung up, opening the Notes app and scrolling through his older notes to pass the time.

Some of them were lists of things he wanted to remember – films to see, songs to listen to – while others were harder to decipher: drunken reminders he had made for himself and forgotten as soon as he sobered up.

Some of the notes were song lyrics, and some were just your name—he’d begun to type out a message? a letter? and abandoned it, scared of the weight your name alone carried—and his finger lingered on those for a minute before he pressed the New Note button and began typing immediately.

Normally, he didn’t write lyrics when he was drunk. Tipsy, maybe—one of Rated Riot’s most popular singles was born after he and Yoongi tried absinthe for the first time at one of the label’s parties last year—but never so drunk that the room felt wobbly.

He kept pressing the wrong buttons on the keyboard and autocorrect kept making it worse; shocking even his drunk mind with how completely wrong the corrections were.

But he managed to get two full lines – I fucking miss you when I drink / You burn my throat when I sing – and he stared at them for a minute, a deep frown on his face.

He hated it. Deleting the words with angry force on the backspace button, he began typing again, feeling furiously alone with every passing minute that you didn’t come—and knowing that when you did come, you would be you. And he couldn’t love you the way he did.

For years, even when he thought—hoped—that the feelings he had for you were not real, even as he insisted to his friends that he couldn’t possibly still love you, even as he tried to meet someone new despite only seeing faint echoes of your absence on every face, even then he wrote about you each time that his mind wandered.

You continued to be the subject of his music, the lyrical lover in every song he wrote.

Now, as he entered line after line, the lyrics writing themselves as he watched the screen, he could feel his heart thumping in his chest—as drunk as his mind was.

When the absence of you is all that inspires / I allow for the pain to turn into fires / It will burn when I write, when I think, when I sing / Flames will turn to ashes, turn to words, turn to ink

He held his phone with one hand as he folded and unfolded a napkin with the other one, reading the words and then re-reading them again.

He wasn’t sure if he liked it. He needed Namjoon to take a look at this—the producer knew better—before he could show it to anyone else. Especially before he sent it to—

Jungkook jumped up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and his vision seemed to brighten when he recognised you.

“I came as quickly as I could,” you said, out of breath as if you had run all the way here. You took a seat on the stool next to him at the bar, using his shoulder to steady yourself as you climbed onto it. “Where’s your tail?”

Even drunk, he understood you meant his friends.

“Downstairs,” he said, nodding his head towards the door leading to the staircase in the back. “Drinks?”

You assessed him. He didn’t appear to be in need of having his stomach pumped, but he was slouched over the bar, tightly clutching his phone in his hand, which was a good indicator that the night should have ended there.

“I think it’d be better to—”

“Strawberry daiquiri,” he said loudly—to the bartender, but it took you a second to realise that—then he turned to you for confirmation. “Right?”

“I’m not drinking,” you replied firmly enough for him to give you a long look.

“Why not?” he asked. The bartender politely waited for your consent before he started to make the cocktail. “You’re not driving.”

You swallowed. There were many – countless, really – reasons why not. You were confused about yesterday, confused about Nick’s offer, confused about what you were doing here tonight.

This was dangerous. Reckless, even, and very out of character for someone like you. You knew you shouldn’t dive head first into this, not after what happened—what didn’t happen—yesterday.

But you gave the bartender a light nod.

“One drink,” you said. “And we’re going back.”

But, of course, going back is not at all what you did.

Jungkook, his highball, your daiquiri, and you all found yourselves on the empty terrace on the roof not ten minutes later.

It was a relatively warm night, but it was the empty space, the dark night and the faint scent of rain that captivated you more than the warmth. It was so beautiful here; very hard not to be grateful to be alive on a night like this. And you realised you didn’t blame Jungkook for making you come here, after all.

“What were you doing before I came?” you spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the night.

Jungkook took a sip from his glass and placed it on the small round table between your patio chairs.

“Writing,” he said.

You were surprised. “Writing?”

“Yeah.”

“As in, song lyrics?”

“Yeah,” he repeated. Then—his mind travelling a thousand miles per hour—he added, “you know, I wrote “Haunting” about you.”

Weirdly enough, while alcohol made most people sleepy or, at least slower, it seemed to ignite Jungkook’s mind instead. He wanted to see your reaction when he said this. Wanted, even drunk, to see if there was a reason for him to worry.

Meanwhile, you needed a moment to process what he’d just said and, even then, you weren’t entirely sure if you understood him.

“I—you did?” you stumbled, awkward.

“Yes.”

You looked away, the song fresh in your mind, because it wasn’t just the first Rated Riot song that you’d heard. It was also one of your favourites. You loved the ethereal melody—a strong focus on piano, the guitars reduced to the background and the bass only joining in on the chorus—and Jungkook’s raw vocals as he sang about resisting his dark urges.

You knew all of Rated Riot’s lyrics—hearing their songs every night paid off, but you’d have been lying if you said you didn’t like to listen to them in your free time as well—but it was the first verse and, particularly, the breathy, pained voice with which Jungkook sang it that always tugged at your heart:

It's wandering in my mind / It's haunting my daydreams / I follow after it, blind / I fall apart at the seams

After a minute, you finally spoke—awkward as you explained the meaning of his own lyrics to him, “I always thought it was about… well, searching for thrills even though that’s not good for you.”

“It is,” Jungkook said. “The beginning is. But the chorus is about you.”

Before you could ask anything else, he mouthed the lyrics under his breath so quietly that you were unsure if you weren’t only imagining him singing it since you’d listened to the song so many times before.

Can I find you when I break? / Can I find you when it’s too much? / Can you forgive all my mistakes? / Can you save me with your touch?

Jungkook had written plenty of songs on his own, but from what you’d heard in the studio, his lyrics used to be too abstract. That was the main reason why Namjoon used to scold him.

“It lacks feeling!” he’d shout, agitated by his own expectations for the vocalist. “It’s like you’re singing about a bag of bricks!”

You knew that many of Jungkook’s early songs didn’t have a specific subject in mind. In this particular case, you assumed he was singing about someone—anyone, really—extending a helping hand or providing a shoulder to lean on. It was a comforting song, nothing more than that.

Jungkook was almost grateful for the surprise on your face—he was worried you’d tell him that you knew. He’d always thought it was obvious that this song was about you. After all, you were the only one who was always there for him.

And, in any case, who else would he write about if not you? As soon as he was criticised for lacking emotion in his lyrics, he started to write from experience. And you were his experience.

But, of course, you didn’t think to look for yourself in his lyrics. You didn’t want to find yourself there.

And now you weren’t sure what the appropriate response was when someone told you they wrote a song about you. “Thank you” didn’t seem sufficient, because the song was about you, not for you. “I love it” also didn’t capture it, because you didn’t love it because it was about you. You just did.

So, you remained silent, watching the lights on the skyscraper across the street and the reflection of the dark clouds in the dark windows. The people behind them were likely asleep, resting before they started their day in a few hours.

“I think…” Jungkook began, his sentence ending sooner than he’d expected. His eyes were glossy when you looked at him. “I think I’m writing about you again.”

You swallowed and nervously bit your lower lip. The night was warm, but the wind on the roof was relentless. You couldn’t help shivering.

Your mind was running before you could stop it. You didn’t want to resume your conversation from Stockholm; it had managed to be too much by not being nearly enough. You couldn’t return there again.

But you still asked, “what were you writing?”

“About missing you.”

You sat there, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your dark jeans with the tip of your index finger. You tried to suppress the anticipation building in your stomach before it could fully manifest. Before it could turn into a terrifying disappointment. Before it could show you that you were lying to yourself when you said you’d moved on.

“Please don’t ask me why I’m doing this now,” Jungkook said in a strained whisper.

Your voice faltered as you said, “I won’t.”

“J-just so you know, I felt the same way back home,” he said. “The only difference is that here in Europe, you have no choice but to be around me.”

The implication was clear, even if his voice wasn’t accusing you of anything. He believed you were only spending time with him because your job required you to.

“I don’t… avoid you back home,” you defended weakly—the only way you knew how right now.

Last night, you’d told him you missed him and it didn’t end well. Actually, it didn’t end at all—it sort of hung over you and made this conversation uncomfortable. Like a scratchy sweater, rubbing on your skin in all the wrong ways.

“I know,” he said. “But you never put in special effort to see me, either.”

You took a sip of your cocktail, tossing your head back to finish it.

Placing the glass back down on the table between your seats, you finally said, “I didn’t know you wanted me to, until you brought it up the other day.”

“Yeah. I know that, too,” Jungkook said sadly. His moves mirrored yours as he picked his glass up, but stopped before bringing it to his lips. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. About Stockholm.”

The pounding of your heart was very loud, and your voice was very quiet.

“What are you sorry for?” you asked.

He looked down. “There were a lot of things I wanted to say to you, but I… didn’t know how. It got kind of, um, weird.”

He scoffed at his own choice of words, and you realised that you weren’t alone on this rooftop. There was Discomfort, Awkwardness, and Avoidance dancing around you two.

“It…” you began, but words didn’t come easy. “It shouldn’t have been weird.”

He shook his head. He was worried that this would happen. Worried that you’d take responsibility for last night. You’d say you were the manager, so you should have known better. Should have set stricter boundaries. Should have never crossed them.

Now, you added tentatively, “I-I mean, we’re friends, right?”

You could have smashed your glass on his head and that would have hurt less than the cursed word.

This wasn’t about friendship and you both knew it.

But you needed to feel better. Last night had scared you, he could tell as much. And now you needed to make sense of it. You needed to find a way to interpret it in a way that felt right to your standards.

Normally, he would have helped you. Anything to make you feel comfortable, that’s all he wanted anyway.

But, tonight, he was drunk. And so in love with you that it hurt.

“I don’t know what we are,” he said.

Your hands were restless as you tapped your fingers on your legs.

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” you said. “For us to be friends.”

“It is what I want, but it’s also—it’s much more than just—I’m sorry.” He slid his palms over his cheeks and pressed his hands together against his lips. “I don’t know how to—I could never put my thoughts into words in a way that wouldn’t be too much. Or too little.”

He thought that if his friends would have been here, they would have laughed. Four years he’s wanted you, waited for you, but pretended he didn’t.

Clearly, he needed lessons on how to openly discuss his feelings.

He inhaled—or tried to, anyway—and picked up his drink. You took this as an opportunity to look at him.

“You’re, um—you’re good at putting them into song lyrics, though,” you said.

He chuckled weakly and placed his empty glass down next to yours. There was Sadness, too, twirling on the rooftop. And faint traces of Regret.

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I’ll write another song about how much I want you.”

You inhaled too sharply to appear nonchalant. The consecutive “another song” and “I want you” pulsated painfully in your chest.

Alarmed by the sound of your breathing, Jungkook turned to look at you.

“I—sorry,” he said, reading your expression. “I can’t say that, right?”

The fingers of your right hand nervously grasped at the fingers of your left. You regretted not wearing longer clothing that you could pull on.

“No, you, um—well, you can say whatever you feel,” you said. “I just, uh… you know that I can’t say it back.”

He observed your fidgeting and initially interpreted it as discomfort. But now he believed it to be something else—a more prominent emotion, brought on by something other than just this conversation.

Uncertainty.

You said you couldn’t say it back. You meant that you weren’t allowed to, as his manager.

But you didn’t say that you didn’t want to say it back.

His voice trembled when he spoke, the words pouring out in one breath, “but what if we weren’t working together? What if we were somewhere in Oslo, on the roof of some bar, just the two of us? And this fucking never-ending Scandinavian wind, of course,” he paused when he saw a small smile make its way to your lips. “But the wind isn’t telling anyone anything, either. Wh-what would you say then?”

You looked up as if you could actually see the wind. You didn’t know what scared you more: thinking what it’d be like if you weren’t working together—because a few hours ago, that possibility seemed almost real—or admitting your thoughts out loud.

It returned, the heaviness of anticipation that you’d felt last night. You were very naïve to think you could stop it from coming back. To think you could quench the wishful thinking.

This anticipation seemed to control you more than you could control it.

“I’d say that this wind feels like we’re back on campus, loudly talking about our mid-terms and chasing after loose papers that wind had blown out of our hands,” you said. There was a reluctant, nostalgic smile on your face. “Then returning to my dorm room and listening to my neighbours argue about their dead plant, even though they’re both guilty of not looking after it. T-this feels like back then.”

“And how do you feel?” he asked near desperately.

You exhaled, but did not reply. Your skin tingled with pins and needles.

“It’s me,” he said, his tone gentler now. “There’s no one else here.”

And there it was – the moment that didn’t come in Stockholm.

Dizzy, you said, “I feel the same way as I did back then.”

Jungkook held his breath.

“I really need you to tell me,” he pleaded, “what way.”

You pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and focused on suppressing the goosebumps that arose on every part of your skin that his eyes touched.

“Just… exhilarated. From life. From love,” you spoke, your eyes fluttering to him. Frightened by the intensity of his gaze as he watched you, you looked back at the edge of the roof. “From you.”

You heard his breath quiver.

“Look at me,” he asked in a stern, yet powerless whisper.

You did—and he forgot what he was going to say.

He felt like you were both back there again, too. Like nothing had changed—because nothing had, not fundamentally—like he could reach out and you’d be there. Providing him with the noise he needed to not feel alone, and the comfort he needed to not feel overwhelmed.

Neither of you realised that he had leaned in until you felt the warmth of his breath—laced with a strong scent of whiskey—on your lips. Until your lungs started to burn from holding your breath so hard. Until you parted your lips slightly and the oxygen that slipped in was so full of echoes of his taste that you felt the roof turning upside down.

He closed his eyes as he lingered millimetres away from you, the close proximity putting you both in a trance so painfully blissful that not connecting your lips seemed almost sacrilegious.

You were hypnotised, too overwhelmed by the familiarity of the feeling—the barely thereness of his lips against yours—to think of anything else.

You couldn’t pull away.

But, in a blind panic, he was the one who did.

Blinking in surprise as he moved away, you found yourself frozen, eyes locked on the empty space in front of you.

Jungkook stared at the ground, breathless and wide-eyed.

Even drunk, he couldn’t do this.

There was Minjun’s face in his head—his initial discomfort the first time he found out about the bet. There was the conversation in the bar—and the cake metaphor, even though Jungkook thought he neither had the cake, nor could he eat it. There was Sid in his head, too—his smug grin as he insisted Jungkook would lose.

He couldn’t breathe.

He could hear white noise in place of thoughts, and something else, too—his own screams.

What did I do, what did I do, what did I do, what did I—

You couldn’t hear his attempts to inhale because as soon as he pulled away, your own thoughts grew louder. The realisation of what had happened again—what had almost happened again—was so strong, it almost pushed you down to the floor. You had to grip your chair not to double over from the weight of it.

You knew he was drunk, despite seemingly sobering up a bit on the roof. And he pulled away. Meanwhile, you’d had a few drinks tonight and you were going to let him—were waiting for him to—kiss you.

Somehow, he’d managed to exhibit more rationality while intoxicated, than you could while nearly sober.

You stood up.

Pausing for a second as you debated if you should give him an excuse for why you were leaving, you mumbled something about calling him a taxi, and walked away without turning back.

The door slammed shut behind you, but Jungkook still didn’t dare to lift his gaze. He was too focused on clenching his fists so he wouldn’t throw the empty glasses down the side of the roof.

Alone on the staircase, you welcomed the emotion that had trailed after you all the way from Sweden.

You were angry.

But not at this. Not at what could’ve happened and didn’t. Not at him, not for leaning in, and not for pulling away.

You were angry at yourself. For letting yourself wish for something you shouldn’t have wished for. And for feeling disappointed when your wish didn’t come true.

Twice, you’ve found yourself on the edge of almost. Twice.

Last night, you’d told him it was easy to get overwhelmed by all the memories that your time together has brought back. But perhaps it wasn’t him who got overwhelmed. Perhaps it was you.

Perhaps seeing each other so often had blurred the lines, and you found yourself forgetting. Found yourself yearning. Hoping.

But the fact remained—and you repeated it in your head over and over again as you climbed the stairs down from the roof, clutching the railing as if your life depended on it—you broke up for a reason. You broke up for a reason. You broke up for a reason.

It was shocking how little that reason mattered when you closed your eyes in the taxi ten minutes later, and all you could picture was what it would’ve been like if you’d been the one to close the distance between your lips tonight.

And as thoughts of Reconnaissance and Nick’s offer returned to your mind on the ride back, you wondered if tonight was a pro or a con.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “careful what you wish for”

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[fdelopera]

Welcome to the 13th installment of 15 Weeks of Phantom, where I post all 68 sections of Le Fantôme de l’Opéra, as they were first printed in Le Gaulois newspaper 115 yeas ago.

In today’s installment, we have Part II of Chapter 6, “Le Violon Enchanté” (“The Magic Violin”).

This section was first printed on Monday, 11 October, 1909.

For anyone following along in David Coward's translation of the First Edition of Phantom of the Opera (either in paperback, or Kindle, or from another vendor -- the ISBN-13 is: 978-0199694570), the text starts in Chapter 6 at the description of Christine and Daddy Daaé, “They dressed respectably, refused the small coins that were offered them, and never begged” and goes to Raoul's journey to Perros, “Here's the last bend in the road, beyond it begins to go down and he'll see the sea ... wide-armed Perros Bay!”

There are some differences between the Gaulois text and the First Edition. In this section, these include (highlighted in red above):

1) Compare the Gaulois: un enfant de la ville

To the First Edition: un jeune garçon de la ville

Translation from the Gaulois:

a child from the town

Translation from the First Edition:

a young boy from the town

2) In the Gaulois text, Leroux added this description of Trestraou beach in Perros-Guirec:

... mais où se trouve maintenant, je crois bien, un casino ou quelque chose comme cela.

Translation:

... but where nowadays, I believe, there sits a casino or something of the sort.

3) In the Gaulois text, the Finnish poet Runeberg's name is spelled "Rumberg." In the First Edition, it is corrected to "Runeberg."

4) In the Gaulois text, the spelling of Norway is "Norwège." In the First Edition, it is the standard French spelling of "Norvège."

5) Compare the Gaulois "tous deux" to the First Edition "ceux-ci" to describe Christine and Daddy Daaé (meaning "both" and "they," respectively).

6) Minor differences in punctuation and italicization.

Click here to see the entire edition of Le Gaulois from 11 October, 1909. This link brings you to page 3 of the newspaper — Le Fantôme is at the bottom of the page in the feuilleton section. Click on the arrow buttons at the bottom of the screen to turn the pages of the newspaper, and click on the Zoom button at the bottom left to magnify the text.

[my-amis]

Just a liiitle blood

I’m going through my phone and keep finding things from Les Mis Norway in 2018 and it’s wild I never posted these!!

(Yes this is a screen recording of the National Theatres snapchat account. Yes they’re still active and currently doing Annie and Jesus Christ Superstar)

So to the left we have André Søfteland Jean Valjean (who later went on to play Sam in Mamma Mia!)

And to the right we have Andreas Hoff Enjolras (He was also the understudy for The Phantom in Phantom of the Opera, and his wife played Donna in Mamma Mia!)

Now I’m sure you’ve all seen this picture of Enjolras, Grantaire and little Gavroche at the barricades but I felt the need to post it again

[black-arcana]

NIGHTWISH's FLOOR JANSEN Announces September 2025 'Music And Spoken Word' Tour Of The Netherlands

NIGHTWISH��singer Floor Jansen will embark on a 10-date solo tor of her original home country, the Netherlands, in September 2025.

The 43-year-old Dutch-born vocalist, who resides in Sweden with her husband, SABATON drummer Hannes Van Dahl, shared the news of the upcoming trek in a social media post earlier today (Monday, October 14). She wrote: "Big news, everyone! I'm thrilled to announce something very close to my heart – my first-ever theater tour, 'Strijdlust' (Fighting Spirit),coming to the Netherlands in 2025!

"This is a dream come true and a new chapter in my journey. From metal stages to intimate theaters, I'm taking a leap to share my story with you in a whole new way.

"'Strijdlust' isn't just a show. I'll be opening up about my battles with cancer, the joy of motherhood, and the whirlwind of my music career — all through music and spoken word. And yes, it'll be in Dutch!

"Life has thrown some curveballs my way, but each challenge has only made me stronger. This tour is my way of sharing that strength with you. From NIGHTWISH to my solo career, you've been with me every step of the way. Now, I invite you to join me for this intimate, powerful experience. Let's celebrate life, music, and the fighting spirit that connects us all.

"Tickets are on sale now! Can't wait to see you there and share this special journey with you all."

In November 2022, Floor revealed that she was "cancer free" after undergoing surgery to have a tumor removed following a breast cancer diagnosis.

In October 2023, Jansen and Van Dahl welcomed their second child, Lucy. Jansen and Van Dahl also have a seven-year-old daughter named Freja, who was born on March 15, 2017.

In April 2023, NIGHTWISH surprised fans by announcing that the band was not going to be playing any live shows for the foreseeable future and would be not be touring in support of the group's latest studio album, "Yesterwynde", which arrived on September 20, 2024 via Nuclear Blast.

Floor's debut solo album "Paragon", arrived in March 2023.

As part of NIGHTWISH, Jansen has landed two No. 1 albums in Finland, and Top Five albums in Austria, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, the Netherlands, Norway, Sweden and Switzerland.

Born in the Netherlands, Jansen joined her first band, one of the world's first symphonic metal bands, AFTER FOREVER, when she was only 16 years old. The group went on to release five albums from 2000 to 2007, before they broke up in 2009.

Jansen's next band, REVAMP, released two albums in 2010 and 2013, before she joined NIGHTWISH as a full-time member.

NIGHTWISH's first album with Jansen as the lead singer was 2015's "Endless Forms Most Beautiful", which landed in Top 10s around the world. This was followed by 2020's "Human. :II: Nature." , which was also an international success.

Jansen has toured extensively with the band and appeared on three of NIGHTWISH's live albums "Showtime, Storytime", "Vehicle Of Spirit" and "Decades: Live In Buenos Aires".

In 2019, Jansen participated in the popular Dutch TV show "Beste Zangers" where she scored a big hit with "Phantom Of The Opera" together with Henk Poort. She was recognized with a Dutch Popprijs award — a prestigious accolade for artists that has made important contributions to Dutch music. In the same year, her first solo tour sold out in less than 24 hours.

Jansen performed live with NIGHTWISH for the first time on October 1, 2012 at Showbox Sodo in Seattle, Washington following the abrupt departure of the band's lead singer of five years, Anette Olzon. Jansen officially joined NIGHTWISH in 2013.

Photo credit: Tim Tronckoe

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

Hello! Requests:Open!💕

I’m Sunshine, and this is my yandere request blog! I write yandere oneshots, headcannons, and scenarios for your entertainment with a maximum character limit of four. Below is a list of rules and what I will write for!! :)

𝑹𝑼𝑳𝑬𝑺

I will write for:

nsfw (fair warning, it may not be very good) ❣️on that note, I only write for sub characters. ❣️

suggestive content

fluff

most kinks, with exceptions for watersports, spit, and degradation

I will write for GN, afab, and explicitly fem readers only, because I don’t know enough to write about male readers to feel comfortably, sorry!!

𝐹𝒜𝒩𝒟𝒪𝑀𝒮

FNAF (games only):

Michael and William Afton

all animatronics (specify if you want human or natural form)

SLASHERS:                                                                             

Asa Emory

Will Graham

Hannibal Lecter

OG!Michael Myers                                                                                           

Bo Sinclair                                                                                                             

Vincent Sinclair                                                                                                     

Bubba Sawyer                                                                                                       

Thomas Hewitt                                                                                                       

Candyman                                                                             

Brahms Heelshire                                                                                                 

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

Erik                                                                                   

ARCANE

Silco

ATTACK ON TITAN

Levi Ackerman

Erwin Smith

Bertholdt Hoover (early 20s)

TWISTED WONDERLAND (actual college)

Riddle Rosehearts

Azul Ashengrotto

Rollo Flamme

HETALIA

Kiku Honda (Japan)

Kuro Honda (2p Japan)

Oliver Kirkland (2p England)

Ivan Braginsky (Russia)

Viktor Braginsky (2p Russia)

Berwald Oxenstierna (Sweden)

Lukas Bondevik (Norway)

Tino Väinämöinen (Finland)

BLACK BUTLER

Claude Faustus

Sebastian Michaelis

Ciel Phantomhive (early 20s)

William T. Spears

DEMON SLAYER

Tanjiro Kamado (early 20s)

Yushiro Yamamoto

Muzan Kibutsuji

DISNEY VILLAINS

Judge Claude Frollo

Captain Hook

MASTERLIST 💜💜

Erik Destler (Phantom of the Opera, Musical!Erik and Book!Erik, plus a sprinkle of Cherik.)

General yandere nsfw headcannons 💜

Self indulgent nsfw post💜: part one and two

Erik getting reader pregnant headcannons 💜

Desperate Erik oneshot with cowgirl and facesitting 💜

Erik with a mommy kink headcannons (cannon in all my works) 💜

General kissing with Erik 💜

Erik with voice kink, auralism, and scent kink headcannons 💜

Erik’s nsfw alphabet 💜

Would Erik like to be called babydoll? 💜

Forever and Always, You. Valentine’s Day oneshot (unless someone requests another part and gives some ideas 👀) 💜

Erik with a mommy kink oneshot 💜

A Chance With You series: one💜 two💜 three(in progress)

Cherik general yandere headcannons 💜

Musical!Erik with mirror sex oneshot 💜

Reader making Erik a scarf and he gets whiny because they aren’t paying attention to him 💜

Rollo Flamme

Fragile: Rollo slips you a sleeping potion so he can have your affection while you’re asleep 🔔

Brahms Heelshire

Reader who flinches when he raises his hand 💷

Eyeless Jack

Nsfw alphabet 💙

Ticci Toby

Soft reader headcannons 🪓

Mandela Catalogue

Mark Heathcliff headcannons 🔫

Adam and Jonah x reader from irl 📹📼

Human Cesar Torres headcannons ☎️

Michael Afton

Ghost Michael headcannons 🔦

Withered Bonnie

General headcannons🐰⚙️

Funtime Crew

Touch starved reader 🎉🎈

Silco

Soft reader 💉

Ebenezer Scrooge

Nsfw alphabet 💰

[operafantomet]

Arvid Larsen as Gilles André in Norway, Greece, Middle East Tour + European Tour (main feature: red bowtie!)

[paperandsong]

The Phantom of the Opera if illustrated by Ludwig Bemelmans

"It's the ghost!" little Jammes had cried...Nothing was heard but the hard breathing of the girls. At last, Jammes, flinging herself upon the farthest corner of the wall, with every mark of real terror on her face, whispered: "Listen!"

"If that's the ghost, he's very ugly!"

Did the ghost really take a seat at the managers' supper-table that night, uninvited?

"The black shape lifted me onto the white shape, a glad neighing greeted my astounded ears and I murmured, 'Cesar!'"

"I don't whether the effects of the cordial had worn off when the man's shape lifted me into the boat, but my terror began all over again."

"I was in the middle of a drawing-room that seemed to be adorned and furnished with nothing but flowers, flowers both magnificent and stupid, because of the silk ribbons that tied them to baskets, like those which they sell in the shops on the boulevards."

"...I overwhelmed him with abuse and called upon him to take off his mask, if it covered the face of an honest man." "He replied serenely, 'You shall never see Erik's face.'"

"You see, Christine, there is some music that is so terrible that it consumes all those who approach it."

"I burned his mask; and I managed so well that, even when he was not singing, he tried to catch my eye, like a dog sitting by its master."

This ball was an exceptional affair, given some time before Shrovetide...it was expected to be much gayer, noisier, more Bohemian than the ordinary masked ball.

"My dear fellow," said Count Philippe, "you have fired at a cat."

He would go down to the tomb escorted by the whitest shoulders in the world, decked with the richest jewels.

"YOU'RE LOOKING AT ME BECAUSE I AM ALL WET?... Oh, my dear, it's raining cats and dogs outside!"

"I want to have a wife like everybody else and to take her out on Sundays. I have invented a mask that makes me look like anybody. People will not even turn around in the streets."

"You are crying! You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see!"

The daroga went to the window and opened it. His heart was full of pity, but he took care to keep his eyes fixed on the trees in the Tuileries gardens, lest he should see the monster's face.

They took the train one day from the 'northern railway station of the world.' Possibly, I too shall take the train at that station, one day, and go and seek around thy lakes, O Norway, O silent Scandinavia, for there are perhaps still living traces of Raoul and Christine...

And now what do they mean to do with that skeleton? Surely they will not bury it in the common grave!

[funtimelolmix]

my most recent post was from LAST MONTH???? DEFINITELY time to share again!

Here are my OCs I based on Axie songs! Big fan of his work, some of the best songs i’ve ever heard!

First song I made an OC based on is “I’M SANE”, this guy’s name is Axel aandddd you would NOT want to meet this guy if he was real, oh BOY he’d end the entire world

Second, Yuosef, an OC based on “TERRIBLE THINGS”! He’s gone through what the song is about, dying, coming back, and dying again

Next up is the 2.21.21 and 2.22.22 OC, his name is Dutch! Pink side represents 2.21.22, purple side is 2.22.22 but there’s no 2.20.20 bc I don’t rlly like that one— Dutch is nicer than the last two, but he’s still a bit.. Crazy?

Even made an OC about Axie’s lesser known songs, like Howlhoo! Her name is Chloe and she’s a hyena, but i’m not sure if they can even howl,, can they? Let me check hold on,, oh wait they actually can!

When I said i’d make OCs based on even Axie’s most obscure songs, I meant it! Howard is an OC based on an Axie song that I can’t even find anymore, but I do remember it was fully in Norwegian, it even showed me that AXIE KNEW HOW TO RAP????

Bjørnar Gråter I think is one of Axie’s more well known obscure songs? Translated, it’s “Bjørnar Cries” :( andd the OC does cry a lot! Even though he’s in Norway, everyone else around him only speaks english, and on top of that, his friends don’t really like this tall dude,,

“That’s What I Do” is my absolute FAVORITE Axie song! The OC I made about it is named Count, they’re a math teacher, or at least WAS a math teacher before getting sent to the asylum like all the other Axie song OCs I made

Last OC I made is Mercer, based on Axie’s remix of “It’s Been So Long”. Yep, even doing the remixes! Same backstory as the song, lost her son and now grieving :(

I’ll most likely make more Axie song OCs when I finish up having this SUPER long art block i’ve had for months now, probably more remixes like his “We Are The Phantoms” remix and that Undertale remix, I think it was Fallen Down

[glassprism]

Why is Nadim Naaman’s mask so lumpy?

Are you asking about Nadim Naaman's mask specifically, or are you asking about the masks in all the productions that are based on it, like the ones in Norway, Greece, and the Middle East / European tour? Because Nadim Naaman's is not the first to look like that: here's Espen Grjotheim's mask in Oslo, Ben Forster's in the first Greek tour, and Tim Howar's in the revival.

As for the why, maybe they want it to look as lumpy as his deformity, but another possibility is to give the mask some texture and color. On stage under bright lights, a pure white mask will end up looking like a spot of blinding whiteness, which can be quite distracting. Replica productions tend to use shading to accomplish this, hence why some masks will look gray or even blue-ish offstage. But under stage lights, the mask will look white with the colors giving the illusion of shadows. It's likely the masks used in the Norwegian, Greek, and touring versions are also trying to do that, but are utilizing bumps and irregularities in the surface, rather than coloring, to achieve that. It probably looks a little funny offstage, but ultimately the mask is not meant to be seen offstage; it's what it looks like onstage that matters.

And there might be some in-story reason for why the mask looks that way. Perhaps the Norwegian / Greek / touring Phantom made his own mask out of whatever materials he had available; their Phantom interpretation might very well be that he's more of the scavenger type, living right on the edge of the lake, utilizing any scrap he can find. Perhaps it's meant to invoke a papier-mache structure, which would give a connection to the monkey music box. Something like that.

[darkshrimpemotions]

I really like your posts about punitive justice being bad, do you have some about restorative justice being good?

I would argue that every post I make about punitive justice being bad is also a post about restorative justice being good. But if you want to read more specifically about restorative justice, I can recommend some sources!

Three Core Elements of Restorative Justice - Actually this whole website is a good read if you want a quick primer on what restorative justice can look like (one of the ways it can look; there are many!)

Accountability in Restorative Justice - This isn't a riveting read, necessarily, but its purpose was to address those who are concerned that a restorative process cannot truly offer justice. It's a review of the author's fieldwork on that topic, exploring several cases of restorative justice and their outcomes.

The Big Book of Restorative Justice - This is basically an omnibus of four major works on restorative justice.

Until We Reckon: Violence, Mass Incarceration, and the Road to Repair - This book delves specifically into the relationship between violent crime and mass incarceration in the U.S. and how restorative justice can provide a better path to addressing those problems. It's a good starting point for understanding why restorative justice is so important, why punitive justice isn't working, and how to talk to people who may not be fully on board about prison abolition.

I'd also recommend reading up on the prison system in Norway, and how restorative justice has given them one of the lowest crime and recidivism rates in the world!

Finally, for a more micro, personal view on restorative justice, I highly recommend looking into responsive parenting. I strongly believe that a more just world starts from birth for every child. Parents taking a responsive, restorative approach to parenting rather than a punitive one leads to more compassionate, emotionally intelligent humans who are less likely to do intentional harm, and more likely to take accountability for and initiate attempts to repair unintentional harm.

My favorite book on this topic is Momma Cusses by Gwenna Laithland, mom of three. She also does a podcast with fellow responsive parent Tori Phantom called Childproof, where they delve into various topics related to responsive parenting, especially how they handle it when it gets hard.

Happy reading!

[usafphantom2]

Can the old but powerful F-16 surpass Russia's most advanced Su-35 fighter?

While the F-16s piloted by Ukraine prepare to duel against the Russian Su-35s, this will be a conflict between Western and Russian views on how a fighter should be.

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 24/03/2024 - 23:41in Military, War Zones

In the skies of Ukraine, one of the most dramatic fighter duels in decades is taking shape between an aged but highly powerful Western jet and one of Russia's most advanced fighters: the battle of the F-16 Fighting Falcon against the Sukhoi Su-35. Who has the best chance of winning a fight?

This will be more than a fighter confrontation. It will be a battle of philosophies between the Russian conception of fighters optimized for air combat, versus the Western conception of jets equally adept at air-to-air and air-to-ground combat.

It is also a battle between the old and the new. The F-16s that Ukraine will receive were designed in the 1970s, although they have been heavily updated over the years. However, desperate to replace its ever-dinquering fleet of Soviet-era Su-27 and MiG-29 fighters, Ukraine will be pleased to receive 45 or more used F-16s from Belgium, Denmark, the Netherlands and Norway, which are replacing their Falcons with F-35 stealth fighters. With Ukrainian pilots currently being trained in the US and other countries, the first F-16s piloted by Ukrainians will be able to fly in the middle of this year.

F-16 vs. Su-35: in numbers

F-16

Span: 9.45 meters

Length: 15.03 meters

Height: 5.09 meters

Weight: 8,495 kg without fuel

Speed: 2,414 km/h (Mach 2 at altitude)

Combat range (F-16A/B): 925 kilometers

Cost: $63 million for the latest F-16V model

Su-35

Span: 15.3 meters

Length: 21.9 meters

Height: 5.9 meters

Weight: 18,400 kg without fuel

Maximum speed: 2,414 km/h (Mach 2.25 in altitude)

Combat range: approx. 1,600 kilometers

Cost: US$ 85 million (estimated)

The Su-35 made its combat debut during Russia's intervention in 2016 in Syria. But the war in Ukraine marks the true baptism of fire of the Su-35 against an opponent equipped with modern fighters and anti-aircraft missiles.

Comparing the F-16 to the Su-35 is not easy. The F-16 is a fourth-generation aircraft that entered service in the late 1970s alongside the F-15 Eagle and the Soviet Su-27 and MiG-29. The Su-35 is considered part of the 4.5 generation, which are fourth-generation upgraded fighters that were introduced in the late 1990s, including the Boeing F/A-18E/F Super Hornet, Eurofighter Typhoon, Dassault Rafale and MiG-35.

"This is not a criticism of the F-16," said Brynn Tannehill, a defense expert and former U.S. Navy aviator, "but it was designed in the 1970s."

Anyway, the risks could not be greater. Although fighters manufactured in the US and Russia have been hurting since the Korean War in 1950, the next confrontation in the skies of Ukraine will be vital. Russian air power has performed poorly, despite numerical and technological superiority in Ukraine, but recent air attacks using glider bombs have devastated the Ukrainian defenses. To stop the constant Russian bombing and launch a successful counter-offensive, Ukraine will have to at least challenge air control and ideally be able to launch its own air strikes.

Viper and Flanker

The F-16 Fighting Falcon (commonly known as "Viper" and occasionally as "Lawn Dart") was conceived out of shame. During the Vietnam War, the most powerful nation in the world failed to dominate the small air force of North Vietnam. One of the reasons was that the U.S. military was using aircraft such as the F-4 Phantom - a powerful but heavy fighter, originally designed to intercept Soviet bombers instead of agile MiGs in air combat.

This stimulated a controversial group of innovators - the legendary "fighter mafia" - to convince the U.S. Air Force that it needed a small, light and relatively cheap fighter that could perform dogfights, instead of relying on long-range air-to-air missiles, as the F-4 had. The result was one of the most prolific modern jets, with more than 4,600 built since 1976, used by 25 countries and growing. He also saw more combat than most current fighters, especially by the U.S. and Israeli air forces.

"It's a good aircraft in practically everything, but it's not the best in anything."

The Viper is about 15 meters long, 10 meters long and weighs about 10 tons. It can reach a speed of Mach 2 (double the speed of sound), is highly maneuverable and is armed with a 20 mm cannon, as well as 11 hardpoints to transport weapons and lenable tanks, as well as pods to block radars and identify ground targets for accurately guided ammunition. Its exact weaponry in Ukrainian hands will depend on the ammunition that the US and Europe agree to send, but the F-16 is equally formidable in air-to-air and air-to-ground missions. In addition to the air-to-air missiles guided by medium-range AIM-120 radar and the AIM-9 Sidewinder heat-guided missiles, it can carry JDAM glider pumps, HARM anti-radiation missiles and probably European long-range missiles, such as the Storm Shadow from Great Britain. The advanced medium-range air-to-air missile AIM-120, or AMRAAM, is particularly important. Unlike Ukraine's current radar-guided air-to-air missiles, which require the launch aircraft to continuously keep the radar fixed on the target, the AMRAAM has a "shot and forget" on-board radar that locks autonomously on the target.

But versatility in all things means less capacity in anything. “You can use the F-16 for air-to-air combat, but it's not as good as an F-15′′,” says Tannehill. “You can use it for approximate air support, but it's not as good as an A-10. It can perform ground attacks, but it's not as good as an F-15E Strike Eagle. ... It's a good aircraft in practically everything, but it's not the best at all."

The Su-35 also has a complicated story. It is a descendant of the Su-27 of the late 1970s (NATO codename: "Flanker"), an aircraft of air superiority designed for air-to-air combat. It was intended to be the Soviet response to the F-15: just look at the two twin-engine aircraft to see that they have more in common than the F-15 has with the single-engine F-16.

The Su-35 was conceived in the early 1980s as a more maneuverable version of the Su-27 Flanker (hence the Su-35 being known as "Flanker-E" or "Super Flanker"). After Sukhoi tried several prototypes under the Soviet and then Russian governments, the current Su-35 took shape in the early 2000s as an improved Su-27 with some air-to-ground capacity that makes it more similar to fighter-bombers such as the F-16.

The Su-35 simply surpasses the F-16. With a length of 22 meters and a wingspan of 15 meters, the Su-35 is about 50% larger than the F-16; with more than 18 tons, it has almost twice the weight of the Viper. The Su-35 is armed with a 30 mm cannon, as well as a dozen hardpoints capable of launching a series of air-to-air and air-to-ground ammunition. What is of particular concern to Ukraine and the West are its R-37 and R-77 long-range radar air-to-air missiles, which are "shir and forget" missiles and which can hit Ukrainian aircraft out of range of Ukrainian aviation.

To complicate things is the variety of aircraft involved. There are many variants of the half-century-old F-16, including several "blocks" of U.S. Air Force Vipers, as well as country-specific models for nations like Israel. The latest version is the F-16 Block 70, with an APG-83 AESA radar, an updated engine and conformal fuel tanks.

But the Danish and Dutch F-16s promised to Ukraine are models of the Cold War. They are F-16 MLU (Mid Life Update) models, which are European F-16A/Bs from the late 1970s that were updated in the mid-1990s with features such as an improved AN/APG-66(V)2 radar (an older non-AESA sensor), GPS navigation and the ability to launch AIM-120 missiles. It is reasonable to assume that they are inferior to the most recent Vipers, but much superior to the F-16s of the Cold War era.

"With the Mid-Life update, what you should keep in mind is that these aircraft have been continuously updated with software that allows them to use modern weapons," explains Tannehill.

The Su-35 is more maneuverable, but that won't help

Usually, a smaller vehicle is more maneuverable than a larger vehicle. But for jet fighters, it's not that simple. There are a variety of technical factors, such as alar load (advantage: F-16) and thrust-weight ratio for fast acceleration (advantage: Su-35).

What is remarkable is that the Su-35 is considered "supermanoeuverable", largely because it uses thrust vectorization, which employs directionable nozzles to direct the thrust of the motor. Using a capacity found in only a few aircraft - including the F-22 and the Su-30MKI - the Su-35 can perform the spectacular "Sobra maneuver", where the fighter slows down abruptly and stays in the tail, forcing an enemy aircraft behind to overtake by speed.

Although impressive in air shows, the Cobra maneuver also deprives an aircraft of speed and energy, which is not good in air combat. But the real problem is that, although maneuverability was a problem in World War II or the Vietnam War, it is not an important factor in modern air combat. If today's jets go into combat, it is probably because one or both sides made a mistake or did not have the technical capacity for an attack out of visual range. The tendency is that modern fighters, such as the F-35, act as aerial snipers that stealther their prey with a long-range air-to-air missile that the target does not even detect until it is too late.

"What really matters is your radar, your range, your [network] connectivity and how unobservable [stealth] you are," says Tannehill. "The radar determines when you see the other guy. The range allows you to determine when you can shoot. Stealth allows you to get closer."

In fact, this has been the standard in the Russo-Ukrainian War. Fearing advanced ground-to-air missiles, such as the Russian S-400 and the US Patriot, both Russian and Ukrainian aircraft remained on their respective sides of the front line, instead of penetrating enemy airspace. Even if the Su-35 is really supermaneuvrable - which has not yet been proven in real combat - the war in Ukraine did not provide an opportunity to demonstrate this characteristic.

The Su-35 is the best sniper

Unfortunately for Ukraine, the Su-35 is deadly in air combat beyond visual range, as well as in air combat. First, the Su-35 can locate the F-16 before the Viper detects the Flanker-E; the Su-35's Irbis-E radar can detect air targets up to 400 kilometers (249 miles) away, according to its manufacturer, Tikhomirov.

Irbis is not very modern. It is a passive electronic scanning (PESA) system, which uses a single transmitter/receiver to emit a single beam on a single frequency through multiple antennas. This allows the radar beam to be electronically directed to different directions, without the need to mechanically rotate the antennas. This is not as advanced as the AESA radars used in many Western fighters - including the latest models F-16 Block 70 and Block 72 - which use multiple transmitters to emit multiple signals at multiple frequencies simultaneously.

EFSA radars can track multiple targets and are less susceptible to interference. However, Ukraine is not receiving F-16s equipped with EFSA. The AN/APG-66(V)2 radar of the F-16 MLU is a pulse doppler system with mechanically directed antennas that offer slower scanning at one frequency at a time. "The pulse-doppler is part of the 1980s crop," says Tannehill.

In addition, the Su-35 radar is more powerful. It has 5 kilowatts of power compared to only 770 watts of the AN/APG-66(V)2, says Tannehill. "I'm not saying he can see five times farther or ten times farther, but he can see much further than an APG-66."

As if the upper radar were not enough, the Su-35 has - on paper - better missiles. The R-37 has an estimated target detection range of 400 kilometers (249 miles), while the R-77-1 has a range of 110 kilometers (68 miles). These active "shoot and forget" guided missiles hit the neighborhood of their target and then use their own radar on board to hit the target.

The effectiveness of these missiles at such extreme distances is questionable, but against the oldest planes in Ukraine, the Su-35 has been lethal. The Su-35 and Su-30SM, flying safely behind the Russian lines at 30,000 feet, are focusing on Ukrainian jets with their Irbis radar and then firing R-37 and R-77-1 missiles. Ukrainian fighters are armed with Soviet-era R-27 missiles, with a range of about 80 kilometers. These weapons from the early 1980s use semi-active radar that requires the launcher aircraft to continuously illuminate the target with a radar beam.

“Ukrainian pilots confirm that Russia's Su-30SM and Su-35S completely outperform the fighters of the Ukrainian Air Force on a technical level,” according to a November 2022 report by the British think tank Royal United Services Institute. “Throughout the war, Russian fighters have often managed to lock the radar and launch R-77-1 missiles against Ukrainian fighters more than 100 kilometers [62 miles] away. Even if these shots have a low probability of slaughter, they force Ukrainian pilots to be on the defensive or run the risk of being hit while still very out of their effective range, and some of these long-range shots hit the target."

The US agreed to arm Ukraine's F-16s with the advanced medium-range air-to-air missile AIM-120, first deployed in 1991. Although the U.S. Air Force website lists the range of the AMRAAM as more than 20 miles, it is estimated that the latest AIM-120D has a range of about 160 kilometers, which would surpass the R-77, but not the R-37. The Ukrainian government said in September 2023 that its AMRAAMs would have a range of about 160 to 180 kilometers (99 to 112 miles), which points to the AIM-120D.

Final Verdict

The result of a long-range missile duel between Flanker-E and Viper will depend on many factors, including the quality of airborne blockers and baits, how well these fighters are integrated into radars and ground missiles, and coordination between the Su-35s fighters and Russian A50 airborne radar aircraft.

And there are still other factors that may not become evident until the combat is started. Equipped with the standard NATO Link 16 data link, the F-16 probably has a higher network capacity than the Su-35. This will make it easier for the Vipers to coordinate with other air and ground platforms, including receiving early alerts and targeting data from other sensors. Although advanced Russian aircraft also have data links, the Russian invasion of Ukraine has been plagued by unreliable communication systems and a strict command and control.

Even if they were at a disadvantage and in smaller numbers, the Ukrainian F-16s could fly low to avoid radar detection amid the confusion on the ground and then use sensor data from other platforms to launch an AIM-120 against Russian aircraft. “Russians can find out in the hardest way how good the datalink plus AMRAAM is,” says Tannehill.

Or maybe the Ukrainian F-16s try to avoid air combat whenever possible. Instead, they can be considered more valuable as air-to-ground platforms, launching HARM anti-radiation missiles against Russian air defense radars, and cruise missiles and glider bombs against bridges, supply depots and command posts.

For Russia, the threat posed by the Su-35 will keep the F-16s under control. The duel between two of the most competent fighters in the world can end in a draw.

Source: Popular Mechanics

Tags: Military AviationF-16 Fighting FalconSu-35 FlankerWar Zones - Russia/Ukraine

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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