#the ballerina 2021

[chellilonaaphra]

BALLET IN HORROR

Suspiria (1977)

Black Swan (2010)

Suspiria (2018)

Us (2019)

The Ballerina (2021)

[descendantofthesparrow]

Regained passion mb cuz i still love it so much

Harry Hook has been forced to take dance classes to help deal with his violent energy, and while his teacher is very fun, he still hates it. but that all changes when he spots a beautiful ballerina in the next classroom, when they lock eyes for the first time, Harry is swarmed by feelings he had only heard about from the villain's stories. so this is love eh?

[theeunactive-fashionblog]

“Ten Toes Down: The Black Ballerina” by Kreshonna Keane {2021}

the photographers tumblr: @kreshonnak

[thingsdavidlikes]

Danza Zaragoza - Nat by jmsoler

[fluffypotatey]

okay so:

the year is 2021. the month is june. the new season of hermitcraft, season 8, has just started, and everything is great! the hermits are all messing around, having fun, building insane things within the first week of the server being active, and generally having a good time. everyone's collected themselves into little factions, pranking each other, and it's all the fun, lighthearted, mostly-vanilla content hermitcraft is known for.

and then the split between minecraft versions 1.18 and 1.19 is announced. the delay of new terrain, and especially of new mobs like the warden, considerably disrupt several of the hermits' plans. but it's fine, they'll figure something out, they're professionals, and it mostly goes unnoticed.

about two weeks later, on november 9th, grian turns to mumbo jumbo in one of his episodes, and asks the famous question that would seal hermitcraft season 8's fate:

"mumbo, is the moon... big?"

suddenly, the fans panic. they search back through videos and streams, and realize that the moon had been abnormally large and stuck in a full-moon phase since october 30th. the Moon Big event has begun.

this is where the roleplay really starts. once the moon's size has been brought up, the hermits start a weird combination of scrambling to figure out why the moon's growing, and how to stop it- but also of ignoring it, hoping it won't be a problem, hoping someone else will deal with it. the moon keeps getting bigger, more hermits start realizing it's going on, and a creeping sense of dread starts to grow. but it's fine. it's fine, right? they do little plotlines like this all the time. they'll figure something out, the moon will go back to normal, and we'll laugh about it when this is all over. it's fine.

and then, blocks start flying away. just floating up out of the ground, and falling right back down! like for a moment, a square meter chunk of dirt has decided it's a ballerina and leaped out of the ground! but it's fine, right? the blocks are coming back. no lasting harm is done. they're going to fix it all... right?

the moon gets bigger. it's growing every day- local hermit weirdguy joe hills measures it every stream. the blocks start flying higher. gravity starts getting... weird, with players getting the slow falling effect at random, and being lifted off of the earth themselves. the players form cults and rituals and whatnot to try and appease the moon, convince it to leave them alone, making plans to escape. nothing works. things keep getting worse, and the moon keeps getting bigger. but it'll be fine. these storylines never leave lasting harm, or at least they never have before. they'll be fine.

and then the blocks stop coming back, just floating into the sky forever. the players have the slow falling effect more than they don't now. the moon is now so big it's visible even during the day, and fills the entire sky at night. they start planning their escapes in earnest, and say their goodbyes. some hermits jump into a void hole in the overworld (it was the centerpiece of their village). some flee to the End, some to the nether, some just fly with elytras and hope they can get far enough away in time. one brave hermit, tango, flies himself to the moon in a futile attempt to blow the whole thing up before it can crash.

but in the end, the moon crashes into the server, and everything they'd built was destroyed. and the whole time, there'd been nothing any of them could've done. season eight was over, a full six months before anyone had expected it to end, and season nine wouldn't start until about three months later. and im still not okay about it.

(here's a cool animatic of the moon's crash! honestly i dont think you need too much hermitcraft knowledge to get the gist)

(also the moon crash happened on the day before my birthday lmao.)

….

holy shit

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Arabesque

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Being a ballerina is everything you've ever wanted and more but after a major injury, you had to stay a step back. Now you're able to get back into it, so you ask the one person on the team who has taken ballet if she can help you.

Squares Filled: “you better have a good excuse for being late again.” (2021) for @blackwidowbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The mansion is so big that you have to split up from your team in order to cover most of it. You hate being on your own on a mission but this calls for you to be alone. You’re not much for violence but the team needs a sharpshooter, which you are. You’re highly skilled on your feet, very flexible, and light as a feather. You can sneak into a room and not make a sound even if there are fifty people in it.

Someone with that skill is useful on a mission like this one. Someone stole black market weapons that they want to sell to the highest bidder, and you’re here to stop him before they leave. You’re not sure who is behind this but if those weapons get out, a lot of people are going to die.

Your earpiece connects you to Steve, Clint, and Natasha so even though you’re not in the same room as them, you still have them by your side. Your steps are very light as you enter one of the back rooms and there is a man in the back by a table of weapons. It’s the stolen merchandise. If you play your cards right, you can do this without alerting him.

The man takes apart the big guns to be packaged easier in the boxes by his feet. As he is turning to package the guns, you panic thinking he is going to see you and start shooting. You do the first thing you can think of and haul yourself onto a high cabinet soundlessly. The man turns and doesn't see you as he continues to pack the weapons.

You jump from high cabinet to high cabinet as you make your way across the room silently. The space is small and compact but you’re very flexible. You’ve been training all your life to be where you are, and it comes in handy for missions like these. When you get right above the guy, you jump onto his back and tighten your legs around his neck. The man doesn’t have any time to react and begins flailing about trying to get you off him.

You take your knife out of the arm holster and stab his hands that try to pry you off him, and he falls to the ground in a fit of choked gasps. As soon as he is passed out from the lack of oxygen, you step away from him and clean your blade on his jacket.

“I got the weapons. Back room, west wing.”

“On our way,” Natasha says. Your teammates meet you in the back room and see the man sprawled at your feet. “You took him down without alerting the alarms. Impressive.”

One word from her and you’re a blushing mess.

“Thank you,” you smile.

Steve grabs the man while you, Natasha, and Clinbt grab the weapons. SHIELD has been looking for these weapons that will keep them in their inventory while keeping the man hostage to gather more information from him. Everyone wants to celebrate the successful mission but parties were never your thing. Nothing against your friends but you’d rather spend time in the gym than be mingling with all of them.

Tony made a section of the gym to mirror a ballet studio for you to practice in. You’ve taken ballet ever since you could walk since your mother was one. You’re just following in her footsteps, trying to make her proud. The dream is to one day be on stage in front of an audience but you have a long way until you get there. You face the mirror and grab onto the bar so you can do your stretches. You squat down and bend your knees outward for ten seconds before standing up and doing it all over again.

For your next stretch, you turn away from the mirror and bend backward until your head is at the same length as the low bar. You grab onto the bar and lean forward while still holding onto the bar so that your body is in a backward ‘7’ shape. You’re holding this position for thirty seconds when you see Natasha walk into the gym through the mirror. You stand upright and give her a kind smile.

“Nice form. Looks like it feels good.”

“Yeah, especially after a long mission.”

“Little tip? Try using the wall for that stretch and walk your legs down the wall.”

“Have you ever taken ballet?”

“We did it as part of our training.” You open your mouth to ask her something but decide against it. “No, what were you going to say?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to be my teacher. I could use some help with my form even though I’ve been doing this all my life. I took a long break due to an injury and I’m just now getting back into it. I’d like you to teach me only if you’re okay with it. I understand if it’s too painful for you to, though.”

She chuckles. “Had you asked me fifteen years ago, I would have said no but I can be your teacher now.”

“Great,” you grin.

You two meet four times a week, three times if you have a mission to go on. She is teaching you so much, stuff that you didn’t know about or have forgotten about. While this has been helpful for your ballet career, it’s bad for your thoughts and feelings. It’s no secret that you have a thing for Natasha. How can anyone not have a thing for her? She’s gorgeous, has an amazing personality, is sweet and funny, and puts everyone before herself. She might know based on the looks you’ve been giving her but you haven’t outright told her you like her.

“I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me,” you say to her.

You’ve learned so much in the coming weeks that brought you closer to her, which is why you two are sitting on the roof overlooking the city below. Tony built the Avengers Tower right in the center of Manhattan so on nights like these, you can see the nightlife.

“So, have you always wanted to be a ballerina?” Natasha asks.

“For as long as I could remember. My mother was one. Maybe that’s why I got into ballet classes at such a young age. I was actually really good until I graduated high school. I got injured on stage which left me unable to perform for years. By the time I could do it again, I lost my way. I started to pick it up over the years but it wasn’t the same. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I can’t imagine going through Red Room training was fun, but did you like doing ballet? Can you see yourself doing it again?”

“No,” she shakes her head.

“What did you want to do in life? You know, if you weren't an Avenger?”

“I never thought about it. I was taken at such a young age, that I didn’t think I could know anything outside of that training.”

That hurts your heart. She was taken and forced into a life she never asked for. She better off now but at what cost?

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs.

Moments like these are precious because they don’t last forever. The training sessions after this got better because you two found a way to work well together. She’d help you with your form and you’d try and perform a number for her. It’s working well for you two except your feelings for her are increasing. It’s the way she presses her body against yours to make sure you’re in the right position or her hand on your body guiding you to where you need to be.

It’s driving you insane.

She’s gonna kill me. Fuck.

If you’re late one more time, she is going to kick your ass. You rush down to the gym in hopes she isn’t there. You yank open the door and sigh in relief when you don’t see her in the corner. To make it seem like you’ve been here for at least thirty minutes, you quickly put your shoes on and do some quick stretches.

“You better have a good excuse for being late again.”

You look up and see Natasha by the entrance to the gym.

“Okay, listen, my alarm didn’t wake me up.”

“It’s one in the afternoon.”

“Your point?”

“If you’re late again, I’ll have you on the floor in seconds.”

Damn, why’d that turn you on? Those are delicious yet dangerous thoughts.

“Yes, ma’am,” you nod.

She walks over to you just as you stick your left leg into the air behind you. The only thing you’re balancing on is your right foot on your toes. You arch your back slightly and raise your arms to look like you’re flying. One of the things you’ve had trouble with since getting back into the art is balancing. Natasha puts her right hand underneath your leg to keep it up as soon as she sees you wobbling.

“Don’t think. Clear your mind.” 

She moves her hand from your calf up to your inner thigh, raising your leg as she moves. She grips your hip to get you to stay still, but the only reason why you’re going to crumble to the ground is because her hands are on your body. Her hands are so close to the place where you want her the most even if she doesn’t know it. She must know what she’s doing to you otherwise she wouldn’t do it. You look at her through the mirror and see the slight smirk on her face. That motherfucker. She knows exactly what she is doing.

“Like that?”

“Just like that. Good girl.”

Those two words are what cause you to fall back into her. She catches you in her arms and you put your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay,” she whispers back.

Your body acts before your brain can think. You press a kiss upon her lips but quickly pull back in shock that you actually did that.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to do that.”

“Do it again,” she says.

This time, you kiss her confidently. Ballet practice just got a whole lot more interesting.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[ndoandou]

Andou doodle dump/unfinished wips

a lot of these are from 2021-2022 (mostly ikepri)

Klein twins

Masamune

Ballerina Chev

Getting sus with clavis

Little Silvio

Fem! Rio

Rio!!!!

[jeonfiles]

sweetest apparition 01│ jjk

pairings: nerd!jungkook x popular!female reader

genre: angst with a bit of fluff and a bittersweet ending (and the tamest smut you’ve ever read)

synopsis: he admired you from a distance. everyone did. you're serene, words dance like ballerinas of your tongue, stars aligning when you laugh, the wind was made to sway with your hair, you were just too good for the world, and you would never know his name.

warnings: !! graphic deceptions of domestic abuse!! , jungkook is a little too in love, oc is kinda obsessed too, mentions of alcohol and drug abuse

wc: 12k oops

a/n: if you're triggered by domestic abuse pls don't read, i will write other stories without a single mention of it soon, im sorry i love you :( this story is just everything i wanted to write for so long and i hope you don't think its cliche lol

++ started writing this in 2021 and it took me so long to finish

masterlist │ my cc

14 days

A loud smack echoed in the dark living room, the smell of alcohol making him sick to his stomach, cheek red from the impact. He carefully held his palm up against his cheek as he prayed to god for someone to save him from this awful household, and his father's clutch.

Jungkook wasn't a crier, he had grown accustomed to the lack of parental love, yet it still stung a little when he heard his father curse at him, questioning why he even had kids. Dragging his feet down the wood-covered halls, Jungkook scrunched his nose in disgust as he saw mold growing on the walls, and he had no idea what to do with it.

His feet took him all the way to his room, dimly lit up with a little nightlight he had bought at the town's annual festival, and next to it was a birthday card from a few years back, which you had given him. He wasn't a stalker, it was just the only birthday card he had gotten from anyone. You were both 11 back then, and Jungkook had invited the whole grade to a party at his grandma's house.

No one showed up the first 20 minutes, and Jungkook cried in his grandma's arms until the doorbell rang, and a sniffling Jungkook opened the door to see you, smiling brightly, stretching out your birthday card with two ten thousand won bills paper-clipped inside.

Jungkook appreciated how you didn't pity him that day, how you didn't even ask about the other guests' absence. You just devoured the chocolate cake together, both laughing at each other and your glaze-stained faces. You never spoke to Jungkook afterward, yet you still left the biggest mark in his heart, and he would never, ever in his life forget you, and how you lit up a broken little boy's heart forever.

Tears prickling in his eyes, blinking them away, gone as fast as they came. He went to sleep early that night, knowing he would see you tomorrow, possibly the only thing keeping him from completely giving up. You were his everything, the light of his life, shimmer in his eyes, despite you not remembering his name. He didn't care, he would just continue fantasizing till it swallows him whole.

13 days

The front strands of your ponytail fell down in your face as you laughed joyously, bubbles brewing in his stomach as he tightened his grip on the book he was reading, The Lover by Marguerite Duras, a disturbing book, which he wasn't focusing on at all.

You were laying down in the grass, frilly pink skirt and a white top, summer breeze warm and comforting, as you giggled with two of your many friends, Jihan and Sooyoung.

The two last weeks of school before the summer break was your favorite, your report cards had been handed out and the school didn't require you to wear uniforms either, so you could wear all the pretty clothes you had bought, preparing for the hot weather.

A guy approached you, which Jungkook recognized as Kim Taehyung, your best friend, with who you were very comfortable, a bit too much for Jungkook's liking.

His whole stomach twisted into a harsh knot when he threw his arms playfully around her neck, quite literally, because he could feel his breakfast come up his throat as he gripped onto the bench, hurling onto the grass. In some ways, he knew it was coming. He had felt the weird feeling in his stomach since he woke up.

"Oh god... Look at Jungkook!" Jihan chuckled, a vicious tone in her laugh. A frown formed on your face, feeling bad for him, so you loosened yourself from Taehyung as you reached for your purse to approach him.

"Jihan." You gave her a cold stare, and she looked away awkwardly, "I'll be back soon." Already rushing over to the boy who was about to wipe his mouth with his hand.

"You shouldn't-!" You exclaim, and he freezes. He's still hanging, face facing the grass, huddled over the bench, saliva dripping from his mouth, probably an attempt to get rid of the gruesome taste.

Jungkook slowly turned his head to face you, and his whole body froze when he met your sympathetic gaze. Digging through your purse you found makeup wipes, holding one out for him to grab. He didn't take it, so you leaned forward to wipe his mouth yourself. "Yuck, this must've been horrible. Are you okay?" You smiled as the tissue met the corner of his mouth, with no trace of disgust on your face.

He didn't try to pull back either, he was so mesmerized by your face up close, he genuinely thought his fantasies had finally swallowed him whole.

Jungkook had an unreadable expression on his face, he was pale like milk, and you felt worried and contemplated calling for a teacher, but you realized they could probably not do any more than you could, considering you were outside of campus, in the park on the other side of town for another foolish class outing.

Placing the used wipe on the bench next to him, he winced and moved a little away from it, and you just felt relieved that he wasn't completely dead. You grabbed a water bottle from your purse, holding it for him so he could drink. It was a hot summer day, the scorching heat had probably gotten to him, lips dry like sandpaper.

He took a few sips, hesitating for a while until he kept drinking. "You must've been so lightheaded, you have to take care of yourself." He only nodded in response. You threw the wipes away and buttered up your hands in hand sanitizer and hand cream before getting comfortable on the bench next to Jungkook.

"Sorry if you don't want me next to you, but I don't think you should be alone like this. You have anyone who can pick you up?" He pondered on your question, only for a short while, until he realized, he had absolutely no one.

"No." He spoke dryly, voice weak and vulnerable. It made you want to protect him, but all you did was sit back in silence, placing your hand on Jungkook's knee, and he grimaced in pain, letting out a small whine.

"Shit, I´m so sorry!" You pulled your hand away, smiling apologetically. Your friends looked at you, questioning looks on their faces as to why you were sitting next to someone like Jungkook.

You brushed them off, and Jungkook crossed his arms protectively, and you felt a pang of guilt. He had only uttered a single word to you, as simple as "No."

When he lifted his arms up, you took it as an opportunity to let your eyes wander, noticing how frail the boy was, how his skin was light as day, and his bicep covered in a purple bruise on his arm, you couldn't help but think he had been sick for a while.

"Let's move out of the sun." You smiled, standing up and taking his hand, and he slowly got up, and you offered a second hand to help him get stable.

His legs were wobbly, the emotions were too much for him. He was holding your hand, you were caring for him, just like you did many years back. You hadn't changed, you were still an angel and not a product of his imagination.

The tears that had been welling up in his eyes last night finally came to the surface, endlessly rolling down his cheeks. You could nearly feel the sting as you heard his quiet sobbing and saw his cheeks turn splotchy red.

He looked embarrassed, mortified actually. You quickly placed his arm over your shoulder, as you started walking away from the open areas of the park. The bus station was close by, so you walked away from the park and your teachers, and none of you seemed to care.

A bus you took quite often luckily passed by, and you waved for it to stop, and of course, the bus driver stopped for you, a sight to behold, and you halted onto the bus with a sniffling Jungkook.

You both looked at each other, eyes widening when you realized that you had skipped school. Chuckling together, your heart warmed up, finally, he was smiling.

You wiped his tear with his thumb as you swore you would protect him from all danger. You both went separate ways that evening after you paid for some cheap mediocre sandwiches at the gas station, not talking much.

12 days left

The next time you see Jungkook, it's no different from the first, he's in yet another pitiful situation, nervously picking up all the books he had just dropped on the ground when crashing into Moonbin, another sleaze who has tried it with you.

"Watch your step dweeb," Moonbin growled, placing a foot on Jungkook's shoulder, pushing him down so his head hits the gravel.

Poor Jungkook groaned in agony, throbbing pain as he rushed to pick up the rest of his books, muttering sorry over and over again.

"Moonbin, what the fuck is your problem?" You stepped in, his saving angel. God had sent you to aid him, he was sure of it. "What has he ever done to you?" You spat, standing between the two boys.

Moonbin was a good 6'3, his height a little intimidating, yet you didn't budge. "Y/N-ah, seriously, stay out of it." His expression softened at the sight of you, and it only made you even angrier, stepping with full force on his foot, making him yell in agony, the little heel crushing his toes.

"Jungkook is my friend, and you don't mess with my friends." You smiled proudly, shooing Moonbin and his bruised ego away before you sat down on the ground with Jungkook, who looked at you like you possessed the world's greatest treasures.

You knew his name. You, Y/N Y/L/N, knew his name. He could squeal in happiness any second, luckily his throbbing headache kept him grounded, adoration glazing his pretty eyes. He had a little bruise on his forehead from the gravel, luckily no blood, and you didn't dare touch it, afraid Jungkook would cry out in pain again like he did two days ago.

You followed him to the bathroom, offering to hold his stuff for him, even his phone, case decorated in Undertale and Zelda stickers, and you laughed to yourself as you traced the stickers with your fingers. Out of a sudden, the buzzes from his phone wouldn't stop, and you flipped his phone around to see series of messages on his lock screen.

Dad 04:37pm

Where are you

You idior come home or i'l, throw your shit ouvt

Ungsteful brat no wonder your mom left tou

Heart dropping to the floor, you dismissed the messages and pretended you had never even seen them, scared Jungkook would close up again as he had finally started talking to you.

When he exited the bathroom, you pretended you hadn't seen anything, yet the lump in your stomach just grew bigger every time you looked at him. You started noticing, how his eyes were puffy, bags under his eyes, one cheek redder than the other, how skinny Jungkook was, and it made you shiver.

"A-are you.. alright?" He asked softly, and you only nodded, pressing your books up against your chest, trying to suppress whatever emotions you so desperately wanted to show.

He followed you home that evening, and you nearly cried out for him not to leave, not to go home to his dad who's texts had scared the living daylights out of you, so you reached for his hand.

"Stay for a while?" You pleaded, smiling, and he could see a little hurt in your eyes. He wanted to, so badly. Then he realized that he had a father at home, so he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, my dad wants me home." And you could hear the fear in his voice as he got ready to leave. His lips reduced into a thin line as you pouted.

"Give me your number at least." You smiled, despite being afraid, and he obliged, typing his number in on your phone, being extremely cautious because of the price of your new iPhone 12, while he was stuck with the iPhone 5.

He turned on his heel, and you couldn't stop him. He slipped out of your hands, your grip. You gulped, watching him walk till he was out of sight. You tossed and turned the whole night, which you never did, you always fell asleep in minutes. You were worried, a few dry cries probably left your mouth.

11 days left

He was present in class the next morning, a feeling of relief as you saw him with his nose down in another book, yet he looked even more defeated than yesterday. He ignored your smiles, he just looked at you with a dead expression and pushed his glasses up his nose, throwing his hoodie over his head, looking back down into his books.

Class ended, and you gracefully walked over to Jungkook's desk, because it seemed like he had no intention of getting up. "I made extra lunch this morning so we could share. You never eat during break so-"

"Y/N, leave." He pointed at the door, all the other students leaving, signaling for you to leave with them, you refused, and pulled out a chair to sit in front of him.

"You're all skin and bones, Jungkook. Let's enjoy this meal together, I can be silent if you want." You shrugged, grabbing two bento boxes from your backpack.

"Why do you care? Don't you have friends you should be spending time with?" Jungkook spat, not even willing to look you in the eyes.

You just kept smiling, opening the boxes carefully and handing him a pair of chopsticks, "You're my friend too, Kook-ah," and he accepted, a small grin appearing on his face.

He loves you, he absolutely loves you. He doesn't even mind that you feel nothing for him, you are so, so perfect. Jungkook could stare at you all day, letting your beauty sink in time and time again. He wants to hold you because you're so close to him, but he knows that you're two worlds apart, no matter the distance between you two.

You could hold him so tight he'd turn blue and you'd still be so god damn far away, you were so out of his league, as cliche as it sounds, it's completely true.

Eating together in silence as you promised. Jungkook was completely engulfed in your sweet, silent beauty, how you resembled a wave that hits the shore with such ease, splashing everywhere, landing as simple drops of water, which couldn't hurt anyone.

You weren't loud and outrageous, you enjoy moments of silence, you love everything enclosed, safe and sound company, exactly like Jungkook.

"You wanna come to my house today?" You break the comfortable silence.

"I can't." He replies, sounding awfully sad.

You could ask why, but you chose not to. You didn't want to pick scabs off wounds you couldn't see, so you waited till he told you yourself. Hoping he would.

"Okay. You have my number though, can we text tonight?" You smile, knowing it's weird to ask someone to text you, but Jungkook was weird too, so it didn't matter.

He nodded and continued reading a book you knew nothing about. You appreciate a good book, classics like Catcher in the Rye, and How to kill a mocking bird, but it seemed like Jungkook had taken the next step into the world of literature.

He made you happy, his company felt good. Nothing could hurt you now, yet everything could hurt Jungkook, and you swore you felt nauseous just thinking about it. You knew what was happening in his home, but you needed him to tell you, trust you, before you could help him. Give him what he deserves, he just needs to hang in there for a little while longer.

"Can't we skip school tomorrow, we can do something then? It won't affect our report cards!" You shake him excitedly, yet carefully, like he's fragile

"They'll call home, my parents are already mad at me for a bad grade I got last week." Jungkook sighs, closing the book he was reading. He lets out a weak, quiet yawn.

You think he's pretty like this, eyes puffy and lips pouted, hair messy, glasses resting on his nose. Jungkook has the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen, and you swore to god you could drown in them.

10 days left

See tags for warnings.

He dragged his feet down the pavement of a busy street, trapping onto his heavy backpack. It was a long walk since he had missed the bus home from school. He was tired today, even worse than yesterday. The summer sun was frying him alive, forehead covered in drops of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead.

Wearing a sweater and jeans was probably not the most comfortable choice, but sure as hell the most secure one. He hated his legs, and his arms covered in purple and blue bruises, and how he wasn't fit at all, in fact, he had never entered a gym before.

Sometimes, he'd take the long way home. He tried to convince himself that it was for health reasons, that he needed the extra steps because all he did was stay in his room. Jungkook knew it was untrue. The only reason he took the long way home is because of his father and his unpredictable mood swings. Sometimes, he'd be in a good mood. He might even offer Jungkook the remote and the best spot in the sofa after a long school day.

Today, he was just so exhausted he even took a shortcut. He just needed a nap and something to eat. Opening the front door, he carefully stepped inside. His dad was on the back porch, smoking a cigarette and listening to the radio. Jungkook couldn't tell what kind of mood he was in. When he went to get something to eat, the fridge was nearly empty. Just some cheese and a few jars of jam. Maybe he could find some crackers to eat it with.

Looking closer at the cheese, it was expired. There were no crackers in the cupboard either. He had to approach his dad and see what mood he was in. Slowly sliding the glass door open, he called out with his softest voice:

"Dad?" His voice quivered.

His father turned around abruptly, seeing his son in the doorway. "What do you want now? I can't drive you to school if that's what you're gonna ask me. If you missed the bus you can walk." Jungkook heard his voice getting more irritable towards the end of the sentence.

He had to be so so careful.

"Uh, no... I just got home from school." He stopped to think for a while and his dad raised his eyebrows. "There's no food in the fridge. I was just gonna remind you that you need to go to the grocery store."

Jungkook´s father stood up, pushing his chair back.

"Who are you to tell me what I need to do?" He came closer and Jungkook braced himself. "You're just like your useless mother. Can't do anything on your own." He hadn't raised his voice yet.

"Sorry... M´sorry..." Jungkook muttered underneath his breath. At some point in his life he stopped defending his mom. It was somewhat true. She was useless, at least to him. She had ran away from her husband, Jungkook´s father, and started a new family with a nice husband. She deserved all of that at the time and promised to come back for Jungkook once everything was settled a few weeks later.

She never came.

"I can't believe I messed my life up so bad. Look at your mother running away from her own son, to think that I married her! Even worse, look at the son that I raised. Such a weak and sad boy. I can't even call you a man." He was yelling and Jungkook knew he was only seconds away from hurting him again.

Jungkook couldn´t even bother replying before his head hit the porch floor. He was still conscious and his dad pulled him up by the collar for another round.

When he was done, Jungkook limped his way into his bedroom and his dad sunk back into his chair and turned up the music even louder. He sat down in his bed and slowly took his hood off, wincing from the pain. His mind drifted elsewhere and landed on the thought of you. How your kindness and care could have calmed him down in seconds.

He picked up his phone and looked at the text from you from last night.

Y/N 9:17 pm - Yesterday

Hi Jungkook, how are you? ❤️ I can see that you're reading these :( Read 9:19

Jungkook 5:45 pm

Sorry. Hi. To be honest I could be better. How about you?

Y/N 5:49 pm

Happy you replied and sad to hear that you're not doing well. I really want you to come to my house tomorrow 🙏 I even told my parents that I made a new friend who's not related to my current friend circle and they couldn't be happier!! Pretty pretty pleaseee

Jungkook hesitated for a while. Considering his dad couldn't even grasp that it was 4 pm when he came home and not 7 in the morning makes him believe that he won't notice his absence for a few hours tomorrow. And even if he did, it would be worth it.

Jungkook 5:57 pm

Fineee

Y/N 5:58 pm

Yayy I can't wait!!

For the first time in a while, Jungkook wasn't dreading waking up in the morning.

9 days left

Jungkook 1:22 pm

Should we meet a slight distance away from school or should I just go directly to your house?

Y/N 1:25 pm

What are u saying? Meet me by the main entrance and we'll walk together!!

And so he did. You walked out the main entrance with your entire friend group and you smiled brightly as your eyes met with his. He was caught off guard by your lack of shame. "See you guys tomorrow!" You smiled brightly, and all your friends stared back with a confused look as you skipped towards Jungkook.

"What are you doing?" Jihan exclaimed. You turned around to her and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I´m gonna hang out with my friend!" All of your friends looked at you funny and you pushed Jungkook along.

"Sorry they're being such idiots to you. I try to make them stop but I think they have some deep rooted insecurities." You chuckled after a while of silence.

"It´s fine." Jungkook forced a smile and looked you in the eyes.

"No, it's really not fine and you need to stop saying that." You came to a halt and he turned to you. He didn't say anything and you couldn't read his facial expressions.

He knew he was dead silent and you probably thought it was weird. Only right now was he taking in how beautiful this side of town was. Large mansion style houses with three cars parked outside each house, modern communal parks and clean streets. You fit in so perfectly here.

If he closed his eyes real tight and concentrated very hard he could imagine himself as a family man in one of these stunning houses. Maybe he could own a Benz that he could take his kids to school in. They would never take the bus and they'd always come home to open arms and a homemade meal on the table.

Warm and lighthearted conversations at the dining table with his wife and children, everything his mom and dad couldn't give him. A pat on the back if they fail a test and not a slap in the face. That's what he wanted to give his children.

Jungkook was lost in thought and so were you. You were stood there thinking about how stunningly pretty Jungkook was. When you were close to him it was almost heartbreaking how it hasn't been appreciated more. How his face belonged on a canvas. That's what you thought of him. You aren't the type to stay silent when you really mean something. For some reason the words just don't come out the right way when you're with him.

"Are your parents home?" He questioned as you kept walking.

"My mom probably. My dad will be home for dinner."

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your mom loves Jungkook and constantly gushes about how well mannered he is. Your dad appreciates that he only speaks when he is spoken to and that he has realistic ambitions. You spend most of your time in the upstairs living room playing a stupid board game and watching a dumb sitcom.

It's quiet most of the time but the both of you can feel that you enjoy each others company. Just simply co-existing and not being alone feels nice for the both of you.

As Jungkook is putting his shoes on to leave, your mom walks in. "Jungkook-ah, why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow as well? You're such a pleasure to have as a guest." She proposes, and he nods.

"If Y/N wants to spend time with me two days in a row." He chuckles slightly.

"You know I do."

He smiles, you exchanged goodbyes and he shuts the door behind him. Both you and your mom stay silent for a while before she breaks the silence.

"I hope this boy isn't a pity project to you, honey. You can obviously see that he's struggling and you can't just leave him behind when you're bored of him. He needs you more than you need him." She places her cold hand on your shoulder as she leaves you standing in the hallway.

You're not so sure that he really needs you more than you need him, because you so desperately need a friend.

8 days left

"Jungkookie, can I tell you a secret?" You're situated on your queen bed with floral sheets, both sitting with your legs crossed like 5th grade girls. Jungkook looked up and raised an eyebrow curiously at you as he nodded slowly.

"I was hanging with the wrong crowd a while ago. Not that I'm hanging out with the right crowd now, but you get the expression." You chewed your bottom lip nervously before you continue. "You know when I left school for a month to go to the Caribbeans?"

He lifted his eyebrows and widened his eyes in a "Yes... And?" type of way.

"I wasn´t in the Caribbeans. I was in rehab. An old friend of mine overdosed and I had to get drug tested. I tested positive on coke and my parents shipped me straight off to rehab." His expression softened as he placed a hand on your knee just like you had done to him a few days earlier.

"I was so mad at the time, I wanted to get emancipated from my parents. Today, I'm grateful. Grateful that they helped me so I didn't have to suffer the same fate as my friend." You sigh so deeply you could feel tears stinging in your eyes, but you managed to keep them down.

"Why´d you do it? Take the drugs I mean?" Jungkook asked ever so carefully, and you knew he only meant well.

"I guess I wanted to feel something." You shrug. "I think that´s why everyone does drugs in one way or another. To either feel or not feel." You smile sheepishly.

"What's your secret?" Feeling a little vulnerable and naked, you divert the attention to him. Maybe you're hoping to hear something about his dad. If he hurts Jungkook. That's what you suspect by the clothes Jungkook wears in this hot weather. How he always tugs at his sleeves.

"I want to study nursing." You stare at him and he knows it not as interesting as what you told him. "I haven't told anyone, ever. Maybe it's not what you wanted to hear but to me it's a secret." He stared down in his lap, not meeting your gaze. Chipping at the loose skin around a sore on his hand.

"That's really cool Kook-ah. I'm happy I'm the first to know." He looks back up at you. "Where have you applied?"

"I applied to PNU but tuition wise I think INJE or Dong-A is more realistic."

All of the universities he has applied to are all in Busan and you swore you could hear your own heart shatter. "Busan, really?"

"My aunt lives there and offered to let me stay with her for the first years of my studies." He chimed happily. "I guess I don't have the best relationship with my dad."

You decided not to push it, not to ask any questions quite yet.

"How about you Y/N-ah?" You liked the way your name slipped of his tongue so gently.

"I´ve already accepted my spot at Yonsei. I'm gonna study dentistry, so I guess we'll be in the healthcare field together." You smile, but you can't help that you're looking quite disappointed. In some ways you were hoping for Jungkook to be your forever friend, not a friend you occasionally see whenever you're in each others cities.

"When are you leaving for Busan?" You question.

"After summer, I guess."

7 days left

The empty desk in the classroom makes your insides feel like they're gonna twist and turn and send your breakfast back up your throat. His empty desk.

The two of you had grown abnormally close over the past few days, texting all night and spending the daytime together in some kind of way. Maybe it's because neither of you know how healthy friendships are supposed to be paced, you feel like you've been friends forever.

The entire day went by and all you heard was the tuned out noise of your loud friends yelling across the lunch table with nothing interesting to say at all. Only shit talk and gossip. There's always a new guy or girl to talk shit about. Usually, you wouldn't participate in the chitchat, so they didn't notice your sullen mood today.

No matter how much you tried to paint yourself as a saint or a saviour, you only saw an accomplice when you looked in the mirror. You had the power to make them stop picking on so many people, in some way, they saw you as their leader. Maybe they'd abandon you at some point, but wouldn't it be worth it?

Despite the fact that you never encouraged it, you never stopped them either. So you weren't better than them in any way although you liked to believe so. You liked the validating feeling of them obeying the things you told them to do, and you guessed that´s why you're too scared to confront them. You're scared that they'll rebel against you and leave you behind.

Y/N 11:21 am

Kook-ah, where are u?

Jungkook 11:24 am

At home The walk back from your house gave me a cold I think

Y/N 11:25 am

Oh no :( Get well soon and text me tn!! <3

You knew he was lying and you could feel your heart hurting from lunch time till you were in bed staring at the ceiling. "Honey! Dinner is ready!" Your mom yelled from downstairs, and you barely heard it through your door.

"Not hungry!" You yelled back, continuing the intense stare-off with your ceiling. Your mind explored deep and dark places when you were alone. Letting your mind slip back to your past or the worst experiences throughout your life was very typical of you to do.

The text message you sent to Jungkook is left unread. Until it isn't anymore.

Jungkook 8:21 pm

I really need you right now

You started blankly at the screen, heart pounding in your chest whilst typing your message.

Y/N 8:21 pm

Ofc, where r u???

Jungkook shared his location with you for 1 hour

You raced down the stairs, and your parents looked at you confusedly as you rushed past them and put on your running shoes in the hallway. You so badly wished you had your license. Darting out the door and slamming the door behind you, you weren't thinking straight. The air was cold for a summer night, but it was still bright out.

Jungkook lived on the other side of Goyang, a city right outside Seoul that you both resided in. Walking would probably take you 45 minutes at least. You didn't care. The wind ran through your hair as your breath was pacing. You made awfully loud noises as it was starting to get tiring. You refused to stop running, you couldn't stop running. Your body wouldn't let you.

The location Jungkook sent you was a park, and you guessed it was close to his house. Sometimes you picked up your phone for directions but you never stopped running, you only slowed down to a jog. A faint iron taste was present in your mouth and you were heaving for air, but he needed you.

Someone finally needs you.

You ran across busy roads, cars honking and people yelling out their car windows after you. At some point you even fell and twisted your ankle, but it only slowed you down slightly. At some point you start thinking of other means of transportation you could've turned to to get to him. This felt more rewarding.

"He needs me!" You yelled out like a crazy woman to motivate yourself as you picked up your pace.

"Your destination is 1 minute away." Your phone said from your back pocket. You looked around, and a bench with a silhouette sitting on it caught your eye. You ran over, head banging and feet sore.

You stopped abruptly in front of him, trying to catch your breath. You met his gaze. His teary-eyed gaze. All you could do was throw your arms around him and hold him ever so tightly. He sniffled into your cardigan and held you close.

He was gonna be okay. You didn't ask any questions that night.

6 days left

You were nibbling on a mozzarella stick your mom had packed in your lunchbox. Everyone else was eating the cafeteria food, but you couldn't stand the nauseating creamy pasta they served every other week. All your friends were talking about something you couldn´t focus on. Suddenly a few girls rushed over and shouted your name.

"YN-ah!! They're fighting over you!" You recognised a few of the girls; Jisoo, Heejin and Soomin. They had math class with you, and god, they were loud. Loud but kind. They´d always include you in their conversations since none of your friends were in that class.

You shook your head trying to come back to your senses. "Who is fighting over me?" You blurted out.

"Moonbin made the first punch but he punched back!" Heejin shook your shoulders and made you come with her. "Can you believe it?" She spoke yet again, dragging you down the hallway, your friends were right behind you.

"Who is the other guy?!" You refused to keep walking before they told you.

"Jungkook, obviously! He punched back!" They almost laughed in disbelief.

Jungkook. He was defending himself against Moonbin. The thought sent shivers down your spine. Moonbin was a self proclaimed professional in bathroom fighting. He'd fight anyone for any reason he could think of, just for the fun of it. He didn't leave Jungkook alone when you told him, in fact, it probably provoked him even more that you stood up against him a few days back.

The girls pulled you around the corner and into the mens bathroom. Moonbin had Jungkook by his collar, his nose was bleeding and there was blood on his blue shirt. He didn't look scared though. He looked completely and utterly numb. Moonbin turned around to see you in the doorway, and his face was pretty bruised up too considering the punch had only been thrown minutes ago.

"Moonbin, please stop!" You nearly screamed, choking on a sob. It only infuriated him more and he threw a gut punch at Jungkook. He winced in pain, and you let out a squeal as you could feel it slightly in your own stomach. The pain.

Taehyung came up behind you and you turned to him. "Please, for the love of god, stop them. For me." The tears were running down your face already, and he´d do anything for you if you asked. Taehyung rushed over and separated the two, and a few others who were watching helped hold Moonbin back. You followed close behind, and watched Jungkook slide down against the wall.

"Make them leave, please." You pleaded with Taehyung, and he obliged. He told everyone to get out as you fell to the floor next to Jungkook. You placed your hand on the cut on his lip and wiped the blood off.

"I´m so sorry. So god damn sorry." You sobbed uncontrollably at this point, and he was the one to comfort you when he was the one who was hurt. "Stop apologising." He held you this time.

"I keep making things worse for you. I act like some kind of saviour when I do the exact opposite." His gaze softens.

"It's worth it to me." He says, running his hands through your hair.

"You're worth it to me." You barely hear him saying it, but it's loud enough for you to hear. A soft, pained whisper.

"I think you're the best thing that ever happened to me." You reply.

5 days left

Jungkook was seated on the ottoman, his face covered in band aids and strips. You were twirling around outside the dressing room in a white summery maxi dress. "What about this one?" You question, doing an extra twirl.

"It's nice." He shrugs, letting his eyes wander down your body starting from the top. How the dress hugged you in the completely right places. Your hips and waist looked amazing, and he so badly wanted to touch you. Without the dress if he could, but he'd be more than satisfied with it on.

Your expression saddened as your mouth formed a frown. "Okay, should I be completely honest?" He asked seriously.

"Should I be scared?" You laughed. "Go ahead."

"I think it's beautiful. It's perfect. You're perfect." He said sheepishly. He meant it although he hesitated. You were so perfect. Jungkook hadn't been to the Louvre ever before, but he was sure that a painting of you would attract more attention than the Mona Lisa ever could.

He was sure people would travel from every corner of the world to see your face, even in a painting. Everyone who were lucky enough in person should be thanking the universe for blessing them with the opportunity.

"Really?" You beamed, heart pounding. "Is it okay for graduation?" You look down at yourself hesitantly, the cleavage of the dress maybe dipping down a bit too low.

"More than okay."

The sales assistant came to check up on you and her eyes lit up when she saw you in the dress. "It's gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. I think you need this."

"Honestly, I do too after such positive feedback." You giggled lightly. "Can you take his measurements and pick out a suit for him as well please?" You point at Jungkook seated on the green velour ottoman.

"Me?" He was flustered and looked you dead in the eyes.

"Yes, you silly." You smiled softly.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He desperately pleaded with you with his eyes and pulled you aside.

"Y/N I can't afford this. I don´t know if you think that I have more money than I do but I seriously have to scrape together money for a new hoodie from H&M."

"No, god. I´m not making you pay when I dragged you all the way over here. Consider it a graduation gift. If not, salary for being my personal shopping assistant." You nudged his shoulder playfully.

"Look, I´ll wear some black pants that sort of look like suit pants and the school uniform shirt. I can't let you do this." He almost pushed you against the wall as he grasped both your shoulders. Unbothered, you pushed his hands off you.

"Can´t let my date wear something simple as that to graduation. My grandparents are gonna frame the pictures of me and you're gonna be in them. I want you to feel confident that day. You deserve it." You pull him in for a hug.

You walked back to the sales assistant. "Will you take him to get his measurements?" She nodded, and now it was your turn to sit on the ottoman. He ended up trying on a few suits, and you landed on one that the both of you really liked. You could see him sweat when looking at the price tag but you reassured him with your soft smile.

"Get changed and we'll go pay." He agreed and disappeared behind the curtain. You fiddled with your phone for a while before going to browse the store. Understandingly, a suit that was so perfect for his figure would take a while to get out off, but you went to check on him.

Between the crack of the curtain and the wall you saw him. His upper body undressed as he touched a wound. His whole back covered in purple, red and dark bruises. You had watched enough medical shows to know that they weren't from yesterday. He had more scars and bruises visible than skin.

He saw you in the mirror and turned around. He looked scared to death. Like you were gonna hurt him as well. "Y/N, what the fuck?" You stood frozen. You were scared too. All your suspicions confirmed. Sometimes, late at night, you'd comfort yourself thinking that you were overreacting.

He threw on his sweater and pushed you to get past. You almost stumbled. Before you knew it, you saw him outside the store window, nearly running to get away. Get away from you and your invasive self. He had hung his suit up carefully, and defeatedly you took it with you to the counter where your dress was laying.

"Can you get the suit delivered? I did something stupid and he's not gonna accept it if I turn up on his doorstep." The cashier understandingly nodded. You took your phone out as you waited for the cashier to finish adding up your total and bagging it up.

Y/N 3:12 pm

I´m so sorry I keep saying sorry but I really do mean it. I'm not gonna bring it up, ever. If you wanna talk I'm here but I´ll keep my mouth shut till you tell me to open it up. Please don´t close down on me.

"Excuse me, miss?" The cashier waved his hand as you had zoned out completely. "Sorry. Your total will be one point four million won." the cashier pointed to the terminal. (About a 1000 USD) "Delivery fees included." You swiped your card and he handed you a beautiful bag with gold writing.

Parts of you wishes that the suit was in the bag and Jungkook was walking nervously next to you.

You had to give him space.

3 days left

All of Sunday had passed without any replies from Jungkook. Your dad dropped you off outside school that morning. You weren't sure if Jungkook would be at school today, but you were dressed up pretty just in case. A pretty frilled blouse only for special occasions.

Like the gods had answered your prayers, you saw him. You met his eyes and he walked over to you. "Y/N-ah, I forgive you. I don't have time for anything else, I´m sorry."

"Time? What do you mean?"

"My aunt called yesterday. She needs help at her restaurant in Busan and asked me if I wanted a summer job and to move in earlier." He was studying your face to see your reaction.

"Jungkook-ah, no..." You whined.

"You of all people should know why I want to leave. Especially after what you saw." He tried to reason with you.

You threw your arms around him in the busy school hallway. "I know." You whispered. "It's okay."

"I just wished we had more time." You smiled bittersweetly as he pulled away. He wanted nothing more. He wanted nothing more than to stay with you forever.

"I got the suit." He changed the subject.

"Are you mad?" You gave him your best puppy eyes.

"Why would I be mad about a great graduation gift?" He laughed wholeheartedly, and his laugh filled your heart with warmth and gave you butterflies. He was making you all jittery.

Why?

2 days left

"Pour me another shot Jungkook-ah!" You held your shot glass in front of him as he smiled at you, pouring soju into your glass. You swung your arms around, singing to the music playing at the restaurant.

"Slow down." He said as he called for the waitress to take the soju away. "That's all for tonight, alright?" He patted your head. You liked the confidence boost the alcohol had given him. How he so openly flirted with you, and it satisfied some deep rooted needs of yours.

He paid for the drinks which you didn't notice in your state. "Let's walk home to sober up. We have school tomorrow."

"I think it's sad that we won't go to school together. We were totally acting like college students today and it was so fun. Drinking on a school night feels crazyyy..." You slurred and he pulled you closer as you almost stumbled over your own feet.

"Yeah, it is sad."

The rest of the walk was silent. Stopping outside your house, you felt a few raindrops hit your cheeks and head. Jungkook cursed under his breath. He had a forty minute walk home. "Do you have an umbrella I could borrow by any chance?" He asked shyly, retorting back to his humble, sober self for a second.

"No. Don´t wanna." You crossed your arms. "My parents are away for their anniversary. Won't be home until graduation." Tugging at his denim jacket sleeve, signalising for him to come inside.

"I shouldn't. I should go home." He refused.

"Sure, you should go home, but do you want to go home?" He looked so gut-wrenchingly sexy underneath the street lights, hair ruffled and a tired look on his face. Shirt unbuttoned so you could see his golden tanned chest.

"No." He replied, and you pulled him inside by his sleeve. You took off your shoes and for a few seconds you just stood looking at each other. Something was in the air. Something you had never felt with Jungkook before. It wasn't comfortable anymore, it was electric.

You needed him so bad and you were about to throw yourself at him. He beat you to it, he grabbed you and pinned you up against the wall. Your lips crashed and you didn't have time to catch a breath. You let out a few desperate moans to catch your breath as you both stumbled down the hallway over to the staircase.

As you were making your way up the stairs, you fell on your butt down on one of the steps and he got on top of you. You chuckled between the desperate kisses as he lifted you up the stairs. He was stronger than you thought.

He went down the upstairs hallway with you in his arms and into your bedroom with an open door. He threw you on the bed and wasted no time in trying to take off your shirt. "Kook-ah, I need you so so bad." You whimpered in despair, rutting your hips forward.

"I´ll make it worth it." He smirked as he kissed you. While kissing you he started unbuttoning your pants and you helped him. You were all exposed to him and he was completely clothed. You looked each other in the eye and slowed down. He started with his jacket. He hesitated with the shirt.

"Can I?" You looked up at him. He nodded slowly. You gently took his t-shirt off, and he felt incredibly exposed with all his bruises on display. You only smiled as you placed kisses on his chest, trailing down his stomach.

He took his pants off on his own and you handed him a condom. He slowed down again and you raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, a thought popped into your head.

"Kook-ah... Are you like.. a virgin?" you ask innocently.

He nods slowly again. "Don't treat me any differently than you would with an experienced guy. Some guidance might be nice but-" He says, panicked. You interrupt him. "So you want this?" You take his hand and you embrace it with your own.

"I want this more than anything." He kissed you again.

"I´ll take care of you." You bit the wrapper open and he put the pieces together as to how you're supposed to put it on.

"Aren't you supposed to do some sort of foreplay before?" He questioned awkwardly.

"It´s usually for the girls´ sake. I don't need that. I need you inside of me." You moaned, leading his body closer to yours. He let his hands slide up the side of your waist before carefully going inside you.

"Okay, do what you want with me." You smirk slyly as you whisper. "I'm yours."

"I know. And I will." He thrusts harder into you and your moans come out in unison. Tears start running down your cheeks and he checks up on you by stopping.

"Please don't stop." You cry out, placing your hands on his back. "Please."

He obliges and doesn´t stop until both your bodies give out. You fall asleep like that, bodies close and sweaty.

1 day left

This wasn't what you two planned at all. You both were pacing around your bedroom, refusing to met each others eyes. The alcohol had clearly gotten to you two yesterday and you the air was different. It wasn't comfortable like usual, or electric last night. It was uncomfortable. You felt like you shouldn't have let him yesterday. You wanted him to lose his virginity with someone he was in love with, not a friend he's been close to for 2 weeks at most.

Jungkook didn´t regret losing his virginity to you, not all. You were careful and tender, but you didn't treat him any differently like he asked you not to do. He was ashamed because he thought you would regret it. That he took advantage of you in your drunken state, and that you wouldn't touch him like that sober.

You threw yourself down on the bed and let out an exasperated sigh. He looked to you and it felt like he was almost choking on his own heartbeats.

"Do you regret sleeping with me?" He asked gently with a sullen tone, sitting down on the bed next to you. You sat up startled when you had processed what he said through your throbbing headache.

"What? No no no..." You cupped his face in your hands and stroked his cheek with your thumb. "I don't regret anything about last night, Kook-ah." You looked distraught, like you really meant it, like you were shocked by what he had said.

"Good. Cause I don't either." He placed his hand on yours. Jungkook took the hand you had placed on his face and placed it on his knee. He drew circles on your palms and made little hearts.

"Whatever this is.. Whatever we're doing right now; I don't want it to end." You smiled teary-eyed. He was leaving you and you didn't know what to do.

Jungkook wasn´t great with this kind of stuff. The touching, the loving and the expressions of love. All he did was nod quietly, and you knew by the look in his eyes that he felt the same.

You didn't know how to identify the feelings you felt for Jungkook. Throughout you've had boyfriends and best friends but none of them made you feel what you were feeling right now. Here, with him.

You had slept with a few guys before, and you've also slept with a best friend before. Taehyung, less than a year back. That felt weird, but not weird in the way Jungkook made you feel.

Not weird in a bad way.

"Y/N... I have to go. My dad´s at a meeting with the department of labor for a few hours and the moving trucks are coming in the meantime." He grimaced, wanting you to understand why he was leaving you high and dry at 6 am like this.

"Aren't you coming to school today?"

"No, I need to do this now or else I don't know how I´ll get out without him finding out." He put on his denim jacket and kissed you on the cheek. "I´ll see you tomorrow."

"If you're moving your stuff out today, where are you staying tonight?" You get up from the bed and you place yourself in front of him.

"Honestly, I'm not sure."

"Stay here." You propose, smiling warmly.

God, he loved that smile. He loved you.

That morning, after he left you with your own thoughts again, you walk to school with a skip in your step. Taehyung greets you by the entrance and asks you why you're so smiley and weird today. You tell him that it's just one of those days.

He knows why you're smiling and he hates it. It's because of him. Taehyung can do nothing but observe as you make it so clear to him that you are not his and he is not yours.

You spend the rest of the school day thinking. You had lunch in the cafeteria with your friends and spent most of the time chatting with Taehyung about trivial stuff. University, summer and graduation. He was also staying in Seoul for school and was attending SNU law. You were impressed, not knowing that Taehyung had been able to get his grades up to study law.

"My parents wanted to send me to Harvard but contrary to popular opinion, I think it sounds overrated. I like the idea of being a student in Seoul." Taehyung explained, making you nod your head in agreement.

"I get that. There's just something about Seoul." He smiled as he stole a spoonful of your seaweed soup.

"Hey!" You ruffled his hair, knowing he had spent all morning doing it as revenge. He flung a spoonful of rice at your face and you laughed almost hysterically as you managed to inhale a grain of rice.

After a while you're laughing calmed down and your friends had stopped giving you two a weird look. "Do you have an apartment yet or are you commuting back and forth from your house?" He inquires, stirring his food around as fidgeting.

"I was thinking of moving out but I just can't find the right apartment. There's an open house next week that I want to go to." You explain, and he nods along.

"Is Jungkook coming with you?" He asks, now fiddling with his own thumbs.

"Uh.. no." He looks up at you. "He's moving to Busan tomorrow." You elaborate, and a look of pity flashes across his face.

"Oh."

"Yeah..." Taehyung smiled awkwardly. "So I'm gonna have to go all alone." You were insinuating that he should come with.

"I´ll go with you." He suggests. "If you want me to."

You nod.

It was starting to get dark out when you were seated in your windowsill with the window open. The window from your room had direct view down to the street and your frontyard. As promised, he was there, outside your door, waving up at you.

The day of

Jungkook was trying to curl your hair. After a few burns and a little cursing, he was starting to get the hang of it. You were sitting in front of the vanity with him standing behind you and while he was curling your hair, you were doing your makeup. The two of you were both in bathrobes, your outfits laying neatly on your bed.

"This stuff is hard. I'm sweating in fear of burning myself again." He snickers, and you laugh along.

"I´ll blow on your burns when you're done." You smiled at him in the mirror and you saw his reflection blushing slightly. "When is your train leaving tonight?"

"I'm taking the KTX train around 8 pm so I´ll be in Busan before midnight." He announces, and you feel realisation creeping up on you. Sure, the train ride isn't that long with the speed trains, but he's still far away and you're both gonna be busy. Your parents booked you a graduation trip to Greece with them and then you´re flying straight to Aiya Napa with a few friends, including Taehyung.

"Okay." Is all you manage to utter with a sigh at the end.

"You'll come with me to the train station, right?" He questions.

"Of course." You smile.

He finishes curling your hair and you add the finishing touches to your makeup. "All done." Jungkook grins proudly.

"It´s really pretty, thank you." You shake out the curls to see them properly and run your fingers carefully through them to loosen them up.

"I´m gonna go change." He said, gesturing towards your bathroom.

"Okay, let me do your hair when you're done please!" You request, giving him the puppy eyes that you give everyone when you want something your way.

"Maybe." Jungkook shuts the door behind him.

A few minutes later he came back out, all dressed up. Except the tie that he was holding in his hand. "I can't tie a tie." He admitted ashamedly, letting a slight chuckle escape his lips.

You turn around to see him and you're stunned. He looked great in the white lights in the store dressing rooms, but in this light, he looked gorgeous. The morning summer sun shining in through your window, hitting Jungkook like a spotlight.

Getting up from your chair and walking over to him, your heart was pounding a hundred beats a second. You couldn't shake the weird unidentifiable feeling that you felt when you were close to him. You swung the tie around his neck and tied it tight, but not too tight.

"I´ll send you a video tutorial if you want to know later, but we're gonna run late if we don't hurry up." You smile, patting his shoulder., signaling that you´re all done.

You point your finger to the chair in front of the vanity and he sits down. "Let's see. Hand me your gel." Running your fingers through his hair, he closes his eyes in pleasure.

"It's really nice when you touch my hair." He hums in delight.

You alternate using the comb and your hands and soon you finish up. "You like?" You ask with a satisfied grin on your face.

"I love." He almost blurts out a "you." at the end but he manages to hold it in.

"Now I need to put my dress on." You let your bathrobe fall to the floor, now standing there in your white lace underwear. Jungkook rapidly turns away from you and you laugh.

"After what we've done you really don't need to turn around." You smirk confidently, knowing you're gonna make him flustered. He turns back around, almost shamelessly to watch you.

You slip into the dress and you struggle with the zipper in the back. He notices your struggle and gets up to help you. "Let me." He offers and you would never say no.

He turns you around so he's facing your bare back. He can't help but let his hands caress your back for a while, up and down, back and forth. Seductively, he pulls the zipper up slowly and you can feel his fingers brush up your back as the dress tightens.

Getting ready to leave, Jungkook grabs his little backpack of necessities since all his things are on their way to Busan. After you've celebrated for a while you'll follow him to the train station to say your goodbyes.

Your parents drive you to the ceremony and you both hurried over to get your cap and gowns. The ceremony went nicely, and both you and Jungkook stood posing in your parents photos with your diplomas in hand.

"Kiss her on the cheek Jungkook-ssi!" Your mom laughed and you looked to Jungkook who was looking at your dad with a frightened look on his face.

He placed a soft kiss on your cheek as your dad jokingly shook his head. "What a pretty picture." She fawned when she looked at her camera. "Jinho, come see." Your mother gestured at your father and his lips curled slightly upwards before he pulled himself together.

The whole moment felt bittersweet and went by like you were thinking back on a blurry memory. Giggles, smiles, hugs and joy were the most prominent things in the blur that you felt.

You and Jungkook collected a few of the people who hadn't left school yet and invited them out for drinks. You purposely picked people who you weren't close with, except for Taehyung.

You invited Jisoo, the girl from your math class, a boy you knew from Forensics club and a few others you hadn't spent that much time with. Stumbling down the street to a nearby restaurant, you meet many other classmates. You get situated at a table and you share embarrassing memories from high school.

"Jisoo, do you remember when you got that love letter from Sungkwan and you went around telling-" One of the guys at your table started before Jisoo interrupted.

"Stop! I've never been so embarrassed in my life!" She laughed as she reached across the table to give him a little smack on the cheek. You look over to Jungkook who's staring out into the air, ignoring the constant calls from his father.

You take his hand under the table and you stroke his knuckles with your thumb. His shoulders fall down a little from their tense position when you touch him.

The weird feeling gets you again.

You know that Jungkook doesn't share as many fond memories from school as the rest of you around the table do, but you try your best to include him in the conversations when you can.

"Can we go outside?" Jungkook requests. "I have a memory I want to share." You look at him with a questioning look but you oblige and follow him outside.

You're standing outside the restaurant, feeling the summer breeze blow through your hair and your dress billowed to the point where it looked like a fairytale gown.

He gulps. He has always thought you were the prettiest girl in the world, but standing in front of him now, you looked angelic. He silently thanked the universe with blessing him with your presence. That he had gotten the opportunity to touch you and to feel you like he had.

"Y/N. I want to share a fond memory of mine that involved you, many years back." He spoke so formally you almost laughed at him, but you controlled yourself and nodded along. "The year I turned eleven, I invited the whole class to my birthday party. I paced around the floor as the clock ticked past six and no one had showed." He pauses and looks at you.

"I had given up all hope that anyone was gonna show, until you knocked on the door with a birthday card. You were the only person that showed that night and I've never forgotten about it." He sighed and his chest heaved for air.

"I hope you don't think it's weird but I keep the card on my nightstand." He admits ashamedly.

You don´t say anything, you just pull him in for a hug. The two of you stay like that for a while before you go back inside. It's seven pm when you go back inside and your heart feels heavy when you see the time on your phone.

The conversation goes on but you're so deep in your thought that you don't participate. It's hitting you real hard. Jungkook nudges you and shows you his phone with a bus schedule on it. It leaves from the bus stop outside the restaurant in eight minutes. You start saying your goodbyes to everyone at your table before you walk outside.

It´s silent as you're waiting for the bus, silent when you're sitting on the bus to the train station and it's silent when you get off.

"Platform seventeen..." He mumbles to himself and points you both to the right. You could see the sign with the little seventeen on it from afar but you so desperately want to point him in the other direction. Make him miss the train so he has some extra time to think about leaving.

a/n: so sorry for interrupting but if u want u can read the next part listening to the song I listened to while writing (taking pictures of you - the kooks)

He grabs your wrist and leads the way when you hesitate. Platform seventeen is right in front of you now, and the train is already there. He's looking you straight in the eyes, dressed in a suit and hair done all neatly you swore you could pass out.

You knew it was over although it never really started. All you did was spend fourteen days together, moving extremely quickly forward from strangers to being in bed together. You liked those fourteen days, you loved those fourteen days and you hated those fourteen days.

"I have to go." His lips quivered and your eyes stung with tears prickling in your eyes. There came the weird feeling again. This time, it didn't creep up on you, it hit you like a wave hits you at the beach, the type that makes you lose your balance and swallow a whole lot of water, struggling to get a breath of air. The feeling was unfamiliar to you and it felt uncomfortable.

"I really liked these fourteen days." You smiled genuinely through your tears. He pulled you in for another hug, less stiff than the ones before. It felt good to hug him, to get that last inhale of his cologne and the scent of his shampoo.

"Me too. I loved them." He spoke into your hair as he took in your scent for the last time in a while as well. "Visit me, please Y/N."

"Of course. I´ll come toward the end of the summer." You pulled away from the embrace to look him in the eyes. Before you knew it, you were kissing. The conductor yelled out that the train was leaving and he was the one to pull away this time. You took his hand and as he walked away his hand slipped away from yours.

He stepped on the train and you saw him through the window, never losing eye contact. You stood still on the platform as you were reduced to tears. The dark mascara that was running down your cheeks were the perfect contrast to the gorgeous white dress you were wearing. His denim jacket draped over your shoulders and your strappy baby pink heels in your left hand.

You were straight out of a movie.

As the train started moving, the feeling grew stronger as it finally hit you. You knew what you were feeling, and you had been denying it for too long.

It was love.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook and he was leaving.

a/n: honestly that's the end but if u want to read a sneak peek of part 2 then scroll down a little!! join the taglist here if u want to be tagged in part 2.

The Epilogue

Day 1140

It was late at night and your friends had dragged you out of your apartment to go to some stupid club that had just opened in Gangnam. You weren't friends with any of your old friends anymore, just Taehyung.

You and Taehyung could be considered more than friends but less than lovers. It was complicated and not exclusive so you thought that you might as well find someone to spend the night with. He was sleeping with other women, so you felt like you should as well.

The music was blasting way too loud from the speakers and it was awfully crowded on the dance floor. You finally made your way to the ambient bar that was on the quieter side. Club standard quiet, of course. You ordered a gin and tonic to loosen up and have some fun.

The first year of university, you spent everyday partying and bringing new guys back to the apartment you shared with your best friend Hayoon. She eventually grew tired of it and so did you. You spent the second year dating, meeting new guys from Tinder or agreeing to blind dates that Hayoon arranged, and that didn't work out either.

By the time you started your third year you settled down with being Taehyung´s something. Sometimes, your mind would drift back to what you felt for Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in 3 years and you never visited him in Busan, but what you felt when you stood on platform seventeen is a feeling you'll never forget.

You cancelled your visit to Busan in the summer and promised to visit for fall break. By the time fall break came around, he wasn't picking up your calls. You kept calling for a few weeks and in anger and spite you blocked his number and never reached out again.

You asked the bartender for a straw just so you could stir the ice cubes around. Boredom washed over you after a while, so you moved seats to sit closer to the one window that wasn't shaded black. You saw the busy streets, girls with wobbly knees and high heels who held on to their boyfriends for support.

You were scouting the streets for something interesting to let your tired eyes focus on. Just like fate, like it was written in the stars, he was there. Jungkook was there. Rubbing your eyes and closing them for a few seconds didn't make him go away. You got off the barstool and picked up your bag, ready to rush out into the street.

You didn't know what to say or how to approach him, but you had to do something. Maybe take his hand and lead him away, let him say the first sentence and really let his voice soak in. Let his words surround you and his hands touch you.

You walked as fast as you could out the door in your own high heels. You were like those couples, he was missing the girl in high heels and you were missing the boy to support yourself on. You stood frozen on the sidewalk as he stood across the road from you. A girl leapt into his arms, dark raven curls bouncing as he caught her and pulled her in for a warm embrace.

Only now did you take your time to process how Jungkook looked. He was buff and muscular with a tattoo sleeve. Only in a t-shirt at night, his arms were free from any bruising. You were smiling like an idiot until you snapped back to reality and realised that he was holding someone else.

She kissed him,

and he kissed her.

fin.

(for now)

part 2 taglist

[iwtvfanevents]

Rewind the Tape —Episode 2

Art of the episode

Just like we did for the pilot, we took note of the art shown and mentioned in the second episode while we rewatched it, and we are sharing our findings with you. Did we miss any? Can you help us put a name to the unidentified ones? Do you have any thoughts about how these references could be interpreted?

Unnamed painting by Marius de Romanus

Created for the show (uncredited artist).

Armand (still "Rashid") tells Daniel that Marius was a contemporary of Tintoretto (1518-1594).

Transformation

Ron Bechet, 2021

Bechet is a New Orleans-born visual artist. He's a relative of the early jazz pioneer Sidney Bechet. [Identified by Gizmodo's Linda Codega, here.] Exhibition Prospect.5 says about the collection this piece belongs to: "Bechet carefully renders the ways vines wrap themselves around trees for support and access to sunlight. At times, this relationship serves both the vine and the tree. Works such as Transformation depict a harmonious symbiosis, as tree and vine both flourish. (...) Through his immersive compositions, Bechet invites us to see history and ourselves in relationship to the beauty, power, and violence of the natural world." And, from Xula Gallery: "Here, we are gifted with the physical proximity of life and death – How they share the same organic space, how they sleep together as equals. The flora of South Louisiana's natural landscape is cleaved open to expose its roots. (...) Here is botany that has every potential of becoming monstrous. All of these meanderings are used to symbolize the deep historical roots of a family home and exhibits the precariousness of nature, both human and environmental, with all of its nurturing and destructive potential. (...) It is a diaspora body, skin folded back to reveal its elegant and resilient backbone."

Untitled photographs

Vivian Maier, undated

Maier was a street photographer whose work was discovered and distributed after her death —she took more than 150,000 photographs during her life, and never printed or circulated any. You can learn more about how her work came to light here. We don't actually see the third picture, which hangs to the left, until episode four. Interestingly, that one is a self-portrait.

Dancers

Edgar Degas, 1899

Degas produced countless paintings of ballerinas throughout his career. While he is often considered an impressionist, he himself saw himself more as a realist and preferred harsh gritty subjects of working class backgrounds. Ballerinas at the time often came from working class or poor families and worked intense grueling hours. [Identified by @nicodelenfent, here.]

Berthe Morisot with a Fan

Edouard Manet, 1872

Manet was one of the first 19th-century artists to paint modern life, as well as a pivotal figure in the transition from Realism to Impressionism. The portrait in this scene shows his close friend, painter Berthe Morisot, wearing mourning blacks after the death of her father, but wearing a wedding ring —she was engaged to Manet's brother. [Identified by @nicodelenfent.]

Portrait of Erich Lederer

Egon Schiele, 1912

The Schiele depicts a young Erich Lederer, son of art collectors Serena and August Lederer, whose collection was looted by the Gestapo. [Identified by @nicodelenfent.]

Paddy Flannigan

George Bellows, 1908

The Bellows depicts a young impoverished boy on the streets of New York. [Identified by @nicodelenfent.]

A Doll's House

Henrik Ibsen, 1879

Lestat tells Louis "They'll seat us late, and we'll miss Nora's entrance with the Christmas tree," which quite a few fans soon identified as a reference to this play, in which a housewife becomes slowly disillusioned with marital life and eventually leaves her husband. This conclusion led to the play being banned in certain countries, such as Germany and Britain, and Ibsen was compelled to write an alternative ending, in which Nora's husband forced her to stay. In the two stage productions pictured above, you can see Kelsey Brennan and Nate Burger on the left, and Assad Zaman and Anjana Vasan on the right.

Unnamed paintings of Papa du Lac and Paul

Created for the show (uncredited artist).

Unidentified painting*

* The running theory is that the woman in this painting is Gabrielle, Lestat's mother; which would mean this is another uncredited prop painted for the show.

Woman in A Fur Coat

Edouard Manet, 1879

Additionally, on the bottom left corner of the frame you can catch a glimpse of another unidentified painting, but we couldn't get any clearer looks of it either.

Autumn at Arkville

Alexander H. Wyant, 1909

The one in the mirror and the one on the other side of the door are too blurry, but we managed to place the one on top of the couch! [Identified by @vfevermillion.]

The Lone Tenement

George Bellows, 1909

The National Gallery of Art says about this painting: "Bellows has imbued the composition with a sense of eerie wistfulness, recording the precarious positions of those who were being displaced to make way for the future." [Identified by @nicodelenfent.]

Don Pascuale

Gaetano Donizetti, 1842

The opera that Louis and Lestat go to at the end of the episode follows an elderly bachelor, who gets conned by his nephew Ernesto and his friend Malatesta into marrying the nephew's lover, Norina, under false pretenses. You can find a complete synopsis here.

The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee

Rembrandt van Rijn, 1633

Rembrant van Rijn, Dutch Baroque painter and printmaker from the 17th century, is best known for his biblical and allegorical pieces. Rembrandt's only seascape was stolen from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston on March 18th, 1990, alongside other 12 works of art. The case remains unsolved. [Identified by Gizmodo's Linda Codega.]

If you spot or put a name to any other references, let us know if you'd like us to add them with credit to the post!

This week, we will be rewatching and discussing Episode 3, Is My Very Nature That of a Devil. We can't wait to hear your thoughts!

And, if you're just getting caught up, learn all about our group rewatch here ►

[henreyettah]

AUgust week 4: ballet part 1! 🩰

Stretch time with the gang. This is a continuation of the punk x ballerina AU from 2021 btw

[houpss]

Lily–9th member of SKZ

🧊—see you soon on crumpled sheets, dear ✥

🧊–BASIC INFORMATION ¡! ✥

Birth name:: Hwang Soyun | 황소윤 // Hwang Lily

Stage name:: Lily

Date of birth:: 05/08/1999

Height:: 170 cm

Place of birth:: Chicago, USA (She lived there for 6 years from birth, and then her family moved to Busan)

Nicknames::Teddy Bear, Beautiful lady from Stray Kids

Other Nicknames more commonly used by other people::The Golden Voice of Korea, little bear

Label::JYP ENTERTAINMENT (since 2014), SM ENTERTAINMENT (2012-2014)

Languages:: 100% English, 100% Korean, 80% Japanese, 70% French and Russian

🧊–LILY'S WORK ¡! ✥

:: Idol

Group:: Stray Kids

Debut:: 03/25/2018

Racha:: Vokalracha

Position (I remind you that there are no official positions, 9 rappers, 9 singers, 9 dancers and 9 visuals, bro):: main vocal

Official emoji:: 🐻 (skzoo look at the end of the post!)

Solo debut:: 07/14/2023

CHANEL AND BULGARI AMBASSADOR

🧊–RIGHTS AND REPRESENTATIONS ¡! ✥

Face, Body and Voice (Korean voice, singing and rapping):: 中村 一葉/Nakamura Kazuha

Voice in English:: Danielle (New Jeans)

Piercings:: Navel piercing (from 2019-2021), lip piercing (from 2022), eyebrow piercing (from spring 2023)

Tattoos:: Small tattoo on wrist with the inscription "SKZ".

🧊–FAMILY ¡! ✥

Father, Mother, younger sister, older brother

See the following posts for more details. 🫂

LILY'S EDUCATION

Lily was a professional ballerina before her debut and attended the Universal Ballet Academy in South Korea,the Moscow Academy of Choreography, and the Royal Ballet School in the UK. Of course, she is a choreographer and professional ballerina. We can say that she is a dancer who became an idol, not the other way around.

SKZOO

ALL RIGHTS TO LILY ARE RESERVED BY ME, DO NOT COPY OR ACCEPT UNDER ANY CONDITIONS.

[holylottie]

aching bones, aching teeth

masterlist [and warnings!]

PAIRING — Lottie Matthews x afab!reader

CHAPTER SINOPSIS — It's 2021, you try to take a grip of your life just like Lottie the past has taken a grip on your heart.

NOTE — english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Please go read the tw's first! Thank you for reading :)

Chapter 01 — no spotlight shine as bright as her

2021

1, 2, 3, 4…

Your feet were aching.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, seeing you in a pretty leotard and flowy skirt, your ballet shoes leaking blood, staining your white tights like a sinner walking into heaven.

You were completely focused on the dance, watching every step with so much care that it was almost driving you into madness. You didn’t even blink, and your eyes were already swollen because of the lack of lubrication.

The song was fast, making you spin and spin around, dizzy and almost fainting, but that’s just how you always lived? on almost’s.

Your concentration couldn’t even be broken by the creatures showing up in the mirror. It was almost a copy of yourself, but with no face, a hair so long you couldn't see the end of it and always, always walking slowly, yet screaming louder and louder as she got farther and farther.

The lamuring lady — as you had used to call her (maybe thinking that naming something would give you power over it) — would drop thousands of teeth every time she opened her mouth to scream.

You got used to the sound, to her terrifying looks and behavior, however you could never look directly into her eyes.

They were the same as Lottie’s — and it was long ago since you've seen it.

As you expected it (but hoped it didn’t) everything changed after the rescue. Weirdly enough, you've felt more lost on your way back home than in the woods.

You never used the money. Perhaps it was a way to ensure a good future for yourself, to always have a big amount for emergencies or, perhaps, it was your way of hanging onto a piece of the past, of having a part of it to hold onto. Your fingernails were always bloody from the amount of strength you had to make to hold onto what you liked — so was your tongue, from how much you bit it.

5,6,7,8…

Your leg goes high, your bloody foot very close to your face, then you lower it, jumping in elegant hops around the rehearsal room.

You go to the left, count to three, to the other side, count to three, but when you put your leg to the side and spin, you count to two.

Once you finish it, breathing heavily, panting with your hip injury aching, you make the mistake of looking at the mirror. 

Her eyes, Lottie's eyes, burn your skin and you discover a fifth heel —the one where you cannot look at those orbs eternally, the one you live.

You hated to be alone at your house. 

There wasn't much to it, it wasn't lavish or too eccentric, it was just filled with paint brushes, partitures and broken ballerina shoes on the floor, it was like entering an artist’s mind: I made this and it feels, i made this and I have to bare the anger and godhood of creation.

You always thought you were over it, that you were truly healing  — until you stared at your paintings and your dance routine and you realized every movement you make, either with your foot or brush, was following the same pattern, the same symbol.

You look at your reflection in the mirror and wonder if being perceived by others is less terrifying than being known as one's own. You wish you could take a vacation from your body and mind as you turn the tv on and scroll the channels, looking for something to make you forget your problems for a bit.

Except it only worsens the problem once you see Taissa on the tv.

You stare at the commercial immobilized, like you were just put on hold.

You feel anger, a deep rotten eager to scream at her.

But again, who were you to complain about Taissa on the tv? You were at the stage almost every week, you relished on the importance of the spotlight’s —relished on having the attention, but not being truly seen.

You were nothing but your art, perhaps Tai was the same: nothing but her morals. You would not take that away from her, you had a piece of you stolen once. You wouldn't be the one holding the knife.

When you are on the stage, you don’t feel anything but pure bliss. 

To be seen by so many people in awe was almost as good as being looked at by Lottie, you loved it, to remember the sensation of having the sun itself perceiving you — shining just for you.

You loved all kinds of arts, even if you had a degree in biology. You liked to know how the brain feels, not how it works. Besides, Lottie always enjoyed more art than science.

In small moments, where you weren't the center of attention, you would steal glances of the public — you would pretend she was there, cheering you up, calling your name, simply looking at you with that smile of hers.

You would pretend you haven’t lost it all when they found you.

Too many thoughts would come to your mind when you were on stage. Today, you were thinking about your blood donations from yesterday, you thought that when being cut with the needle and given to another, the receiving end would feel this new blood boiling with the aching, with the need of being seen. 

Will your blood carry your love for Lottie? 

Will they bite their own hands and suck every drop of it in hopes of getting out this thirst for an unknown woman? 

Your soul ached for hers like an earthquake.

Your eyes tear a bit, would God forgive you for your sins? 

You shake your head while spinning, God’s forgiveness didn’t mattered — only her, only her mattered.

You heard a new voice once you reached the backstage.

— I’m Jessica Roberts, from Star Ledger, you know? 

She got her hand out to you, her eyebrows getting higher. You take her hand. She had a tight grip but soft fingers, not really the type of finger that types so much like she claims she does.

— Not really if I’m being honest.

— Well, we work with stories. 

Oh, you see where this is going to go.

— I appreciate your presence, but no. — you needed to get her out of here, so you walked to the door, opening it.

She takes a deep breath, already tired, and you can imagine you're not the first she had seen today. 

— Don’t you wish to take it all out? Once it’s gone, no one will ever bother you anymore.

Or they will bother you more, you think.

— I understand your need for truth, but I don’t want that, I want to just bleed —I’m tired of making red paint out of my wounds.

Jessica looks at you puzzled, but she nods and gets out silently. You knew she would come back.

— But hm, thank you for the flowers!

— What flowers? — she frowns and so do you.

You hide it quickly with a smile.

— Nothing, don't worry, have a nice night!

Once she gets away, you turn around, if those flowers weren’t hers then who sent you? You didn’t have those types of friends and distanced yourself from all your family. 

You get close to the pretty bouquet, taking it onto your hand and opening the letter.

Inside of it there was a postcard.

A postcard with the symbol on it.

[gumjester]

whether or not i would fight the following eah students

im drunk and found this in my notes from 2021. 😭 I NO LONGER STAND BY SOME OF THESE OPINIONS. but most i do. a semantic sequel to this post

Raven Queen: no. hasn't she already been through enough? also i'd definitely lose

Apple White: yes. god yes. it would be so funny

Briar Beauty: maybe while drunk, but something tells me it would be a very bad idea

Ashlynn Ella: no. god, how depressing would that be? though maybe she'd have a chance if she went at me with a stiletto

Hunter Huntsman: yes, because it would be funny to see how he would try to avoid killing me instantly

Cedar Wood: no. what's the point? it's like trying to kick the shit out of a really polite coffee table

Cerise Hood: MAYBE IF I WAS FEELING REALLY MEAN. it would be funny in a similar manner to hunter, but with the added tension of me constantly going for the hood. i know ur shit cerise. don't play w me

Blondie Lockes: i consider fighting blondie lockes one of my primary life goals. i will curbstomp that bitch in the middle of her own livestream

Sparrow Hood: 100%, mostly for public spectacle. idk if i would win but I'm sure we'd have a wonderful time. unless he has his guitar on him because he would defo play dirty and just start swinging it like a mace

Duchess Swan: no thank you. ballerinas are strong and duchess stores anger like nutrition for the winter. she would break my neck

Darling Charming: i don't think so. depending where she is on public knowledge of her secret she'd either purposefully lose or just wipe the floor with me. awkward all round

Dexter Charming: maybe, because i think if he gave it a proper go he'd win and i feel like that would be good for his self esteem

Daring Charming: yes, because i know i'd win if i straight away went for his face. bust his lip open. it would humble him

Lizzie Hearts: no ma'am. maybe i'd fare better in hand to hand combat but i can't imagine she'd keep any less than four knives on her person and lizzie is not the type to hold back. im heading straight to hospital

Kitty Cheshire: no. it would be humiliating. i can't see how i'd even get a hit in

Maddie Hatter: absolutely not. i have no qualms with her whatsoever, also she'd definitely kill me by accident

Alistair Wonderland: sure, why not. i want to see what all that time in apocalyptic wonderland has taught him, and whether it cancels out his status as a fucking nerd

Bunny Blanc: no, because i don't want to go to jail for homicide. she is a 5 foot nothing rabbit who can barely stand up by herself. she'd die if i poked her with a toothpick

Chase Redford: NO. if he didn't want to fight he'd just silently let me hit him for like an hour, and if he was About It then he'd instantly fucking annihilate me. just leave the boy alone

Courtly Jester: I KNOW I'D LOSE BUT IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING. I HAVE TO FIGHT HER. i might even have a chance if she wasn't allowed to pirate any dark magic

Humphrey Dumpty: i feel cruel for even thinking about this. he's a skinny gamer with a physical predisposition for getting hit. it would be like shooting fish in the most depressing barrel

Hopper Croakington II: NO. HE IS MY FUCKING BOY AND I'LL PROTECT HIM WITH EVERYTHING I HAVE. also i could just flirt and then stamp on the frog

Faybelle Thorn: yeah sure. this may sound egotistical but i'm pretty sure i could win if magic wasn't involved

Crystal Winter: yes. the bitch would trip over her own shoelaces and knock herself out

[cellophaine]

hi, happy new year! first & foremost i love all your work, highlight of my 2021; it always got me giggling & kicking my feet LMFAO i was wondering if you could do a slow burn (the reader could be a vigilante working alongside daredevil), & it’s the enemies to lovers trope, with the italicized oh/ah for realization, angry love confession & all, if you know what i’m talking about. & one of them goes “please-“ in a breath of a whisper & the other just slams their lips into theirs. sorry if this is a lengthy request LMAO do what you want with it!

I'm very sorry for the 10-and-a-half-month-long wait! This was a long request, so I did try to put everything together in a way that makes sense. I hope you'll enjoy it!

Futile Devices

Pairing: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader

Word Count: 8222.

Warnings: Violence. Light angst. Enemies to lovers. A tiny mention of decapitation. Blood. Injuries.

Author's Note: I wrote this with a female reader in mind, but there's no mention or indication of Reader's gender.

Holy shit, this is the longest thing I've ever written. I hope you guys won't be bored to death lol.

*The events in this fic took place after Daredevil season 3*

GIF Credit

The familiar click of the coffee pot registered somewhere in his keen hearing, but he didn't seem to notice. Matt was going through a series of motions, scrambling his eggs, flipping his bacon, getting his plate and mug ready for his breakfast, all while his mind walked on a frenzied march he couldn't keep up in the recollections of that night. That night was long gone, five days into the past, but it was still fresh and present to Matt, no matter the logic he came up with. He tried, and failed. Again and again. It haunted him in his few hours at nights of lying awake, and his days of paperwork and court affairs. Matt had to admit this could be something worse than he initially thought.

The last thing he needed was a new assassin in town.

Thin as a hair thread. That was how close Matt was to failing to save another's life. A criminal's life, but a life regardless. He almost lost it to the hands much more brutal than him. Much more merciless. Even more so than when Matt lost himself, haunted by his mistakes and Elektra's death, tormented by his own malice, of what he would be capable of had he let his pain consume him whole. The fact that someone was out there with such force and cruelty was alarming. It wasn't your ruthlessness that confounded Matt; he was no stranger to it, but everything about you.

You evaded his sweeps and blows as if they were nothing, as if he was only a martial arts enthusiast and not the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The gracefulness in your moves made you look like a ballerina to his enhanced senses. The sharp gusts of air from your movement cut his skin like a dull blade, and Matt suspected the purpose was not to hurt him, but to warn. You rendered him almost helpless, meeting him for every strike. A good match in all the wrong ways, for all the wrong reasons.

You had the agility and deadliness of the Hand's lifeless soldier, which made Matt think you were one of them. Still, the steady rhythm of your heart said otherwise. It was as real as the sharpness of your dagger when it slid across his forearm. Your mercilessness was not the most fatal part of you. The precise delivery of your weapon almost took a life, and even though Matt prevented that from happening, he felt as if letting your victim live was your decision, not his. He was only a witness who was at the right place, at the right time. Your escape was silent and swift, leaving no trace for him to follow. No matter how hard he tried, he could only detect a subtle scent of wet earth in the air, and nothing else. Since then, Matt had spread himself thin, patrolling the Manhattan area, even as far as Brooklyn, asking for his friends' help in places he couldn't reach, like a confused hound dog on a blind chase. The clues he picked up were only fragments of a bigger picture you were a part of. Days passed, and the seed sprouted from his curiosity of you kept growing, yet his search gave him nothing to attach you to.

Not until tonight, when your ruthlessness struck again.

You took hold of the man's collar, tugging on his tie, making sure that it sat tightly at the base of his throat. His face turned a dangerous shade of red, blending in with the crimson liquid and purple bruises all over his skin. His mouth opened to take in desperate gulps of air as you wrapped the remaining blue-striped tie around his neck, making a noose.

"Pl-please … don't do this. I have a wife an-and … a daughter. I have a family. Please!"

You sighed, bored and fed up with what he told you. In the face of great danger and near death, they always said the same thing. You would know since you had lost count of the men and women who had told you they had families. Unfortunately, none of them was alive to testify that.

"I know you do, Eddie. I had one too, at one point. But they're all gone now …."

You tugged hard on his tie, making him choke on the restricted and precious breaths. His face, stained with tears, only stroked your confidence. You almost had him. Just a little more, and you would have your next victim. Or victims, if he was so generous as to inform you.

"Tell me names. Better yet, point me in their direction, and I just might spare you."

Eddie shook his head, whimpering pathetically.

"I can't. They'll know it's me. They'll kill me."

You ran your beloved weapon along the side of his torso, hinting at the possible chance of you cutting him up at any moment like he was a rag doll. You rested the edge of your blade against his bloated stomach while he tried to stay away from it as much as possible with his legs and hands bound. There was no use in doing that, but he desperately tried, wriggling and struggling against the confines.

"It's either me or them that will end your life. So choose."

You dipped the blade into his side. It wasn't too deep, just enough to draw blood. The metal parted his flesh with little resistance, smooth and easy as if cutting through a leaf. The man before you cried out in pain; his prayers were half screams, half cries and all the agony. He sputtered, choking on the words he desperately tried to get out.

"Imani! Imani Campbell! She's the head of security f-for the Stromwyns. She and h-her team have access to everything!"

You pulled the blade free, patting his face softly as you cooed at him.

"There we go. Wasn't that easy?"

The man sobbed uncontrollably. Blood seeped out from his dress shirt, staining the fabric a dark red. You registered a soft thud from behind; the sound, accompanied by a low voice, made its presence known.

"Let him go."

The deep timbre in his tone was familiar, even though you barely exchanged a word that night. Only grunts of exertion. Twirling the dagger in your hand playfully, you took hold of the hilt once more before slamming it into Eddie's temple, knocking him unconscious. What you might have to say to the man behind you might fall on Eddie's deaf ears since he was only a thin thread away from passing out, but you preferred not to leave that up to chance.

You turned around to face him, fastening your bloody dagger to the strap on your thigh. Your gaze assessed him as you took a few steps forward. The man from the night before returned with a fresh bandage on his forearm, courtesy of your blade.

"I'm sorry. Who are you?"

Your voice was light but alert. You pushed your tongue against the roof of your mouth, keeping the smile off your tone. You wondered what he had to say.

"I should be the one who asks you that."

You chuckled to yourself. An expected answer, but different from what you anticipated from him. You figured as much.

"I thought you should know who I am already, considering what you've been up to lately, Matt Murdock."

The muscles in his body were pulled taut in his straightened posture, locked up in alarm, and you didn't miss that.

"How do you know my name?"

You tsked, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

"Don't feign innocent now. You were looking for me, trying to sniff me out like a dog."

His hands balled tightly to the sides, and you could see the tension in his jaw, even from a safe distance away.

"How do you know that?"

"By doing the same thing as you did. I like to be five steps ahead of everything, you know? That's how I stayed out of your radar."

You were prepared and well-versed to the point it felt like a game. A game of hide-and-seek, catch-and-release. Just simple as that. You spoke over your shoulder as you turned on your heels, returning to the unconscious man.

"Now excuse me, I was in the middle of something."

He was silent and fast. Before you could give Eddie the second slap to his cheek, Matt seized you with his arms around your torso and dominant arm, dragging you away from Eddie. He backed you into the cement railing; the hard and rough texture dug into your back. He pinned your arms back, spiking pain and discomfort along your body. Nothing you could handle. Your heart rattled in your chest as you looked up at him; his laboured breathing reverberated and mirrored your own. You stayed like that for a few moments, studying each other. You felt no fear, yet your heart thundered, your blood pumping for something else.

To your surprise, he smirked as if he had caught onto your wandering thoughts and foreign feelings.

"You're not scared. You're not even frustrated. You're… excited."

You held your tongue, waiting for him to continue his assessment.

"Perhaps this has something to do with me. Having someone on your level."

You huffed a biting chuckle, your eyes trained on the part of his face exposed to you. Plump lips accentuated by light stubble, adding softness to his rugged intricacy. A strong jawline that you wouldn't mind caressing, stroking the scruffy hair on your fingertips. And putting your dagger to it. You would place your fingers on the delicate pulse on his neck while you did that, feeling the panic coursing underneath his skin. But you suspected your foe wouldn't be scared off by a sharp blade that easily.

"Maybe I do like a challenge. At last."

Fearless to the point of arrogance. Matt was dumbfounded, then it clicked: you didn't know who he was. You might be new to this city, its politics and underground scenes. Maybe you were here on a chase for something, someone dangerous, following the trail of blood, corruption and murders. It led you to his territory, which he had slowly but steadily returned to protect. When Matt told you as such, a skip in your heart told him he was right. You went still against him, and goosebumps rose along your skin. Still and rigid, a stark contrast to your confidence and playful manner just moments ago.

Either way, whether you were familiar with the area or not, Matt had to clarify one thing.

"You must stop what you're doing."

"Which is …?"

You dragged your sentence, feigning innocence. The slight lilt in your voice should irk Matt, but to his surprise, it didn't. It glided on his eardrums, soft and soothing, which had started to distract him. Just a little bit, Matt assured himself. He lied some more when he told himself that your body, pressing snugly against his, was not the reason for his slipping focus. Not at all. Your body was warm; Matt could feel it even through your suit. The unconscious man's blood on your gloves enveloped his acute sense of smell, steering him back to the conversation he was having with you.

"Killing those criminals. Taking lives that aren't yours to take."

You fell silent, and Matt could hear the grind of your teeth. The muscles in your jaw grew taut, and he had no doubt that he had struck a nerve. Matt paid extra attention to another scent entering his olfaction. Subtle, yet refreshing, like wet earth … after the rain. And all of a sudden, it made sense to him. Perhaps you used a scent like that to blend into the element around you, becoming one with your surrounding. Leaving no trace. Just like that night when he first met you. The more Matt learned about you, the more fascinated he became. But he wouldn't have known that yet. Not at that moment.

You pushed yourself up, pressing your chest flush with his. Your voice was low in contrast to your guards, which were high and tall, and you hoped they wouldn't topple over.

"Just like you said, they were criminals. I don't kill anyone that doesn't deserve it."

Your answer didn't satisfy him by the way his jaw clenched, his lips curved downward in disapproval.

"What they do is wrong, but that doesn't mean they deserve death. Two wrongs don't make one right."

Your hands tugged on the skin and bone shackles he had on you, but he wouldn't let up. Your skin prickled in frustration.

"I'm weeding the bad out. You should thank me since I'm doing you a favour."

He tightened the hold on you, making an imprint on your wrists.

"They deserve second chances for redemption. How can they change for the better if they're not given a chance to do so?"

Okay, now you were beyond annoyed. Who the hell did he think he was? To walk all over you, to jeopardize your mission. To act as if he was the one with authority.

"Stop with the fucking lectures! Not all of them deserve that."

You thrashed with all you might, desperate to escape his hold. But Matt held on.

"They're humans. They make mistakes, just like you and me."

That snapped something inside you, something that had always been there. You tipped your head back and slammed your head to his face. Matt let you go as he held a hand to his nose. You delivered a sharp blow to the base of his throat, right below his Adam's apple, effectively choking him. He sputtered, taking a few steps back, holding his throat while you followed him like a predator. Anger and grief took over, like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

"Spare me that bullshit!"

You grabbed his shirt, gripping it and pulling him back to you before throwing him against the brick chimney.

"If you know so much about the way this …"

Matt held a hand to his nose, swiping the runny liquid onto his hand. From the feel of it, a small part of his nose was splintered, but other than that, no serious and long-lasting damage. You took hold of him again, throwing him against the bricks.

"… thing works, then tell me. Tell me how it feels to have my entire life stolen from me. To have my family taken away, to have those barbaric so-called human beings abuse me, torture me, put drugs and chips inside of me like I'm no less than a toy? I'm nothing more but a weapon, a tool for their profit. And when I finally escaped and tried to have a normal life with a normal guy, they found me and took that away too?"

You leaned closer, and Matt could sense something other than his own blood. The salt of your tears, the blood rushing in your veins, fueling the rattling rhythm of your pulse.

"Tell me, Murdock. Tell me how it feels like to come home one day, and find your love's decapitated head on the bed you shared, in the only home you've ever known?"

And then there was nothing, only your heavy breathing and his; the wind died down, and the city carried on. Matt thought about the accident years ago, losing his sight, then his father. Stick came as abruptly as he left, and that was how he spent most of his teenage years alone and aloof. Matt couldn't shut out the clamour of crimes happening around him; he was helpless to it. When he decided to do something, to take charge, Matt lost more than he gained. Still, there was Foggy, who brought so much joy to his life. Foggy's presence was a blessing. Then came Elektra, who made him feel heard and understood when no one else could. Being with her was an ever-changing mesh of euphoria and affliction that stuck with him, before and after. The fights he had fought for the better only brought more pain to his life, full of losses.

The words manifested on his tongue, but he didn't say any of them. Your pain was your own, and it was immeasurable. Matt held both hands out in a gesture of peace. And when he spoke, the words were ripped right from his heart.

"I am sorry for everything that happened to you. I won't say that I understand everything what you went through. But I do understand why you're doing this. Trust me, revenge is not everything."

"No, you don't know anything about me."

Your tone was sharp. Final.

"Let me guess, you have some sob stories too?"

He swallowed hard, and you knew you were right.

"I guess that's why we turn out like this, huh? Inflicting pain on others because we can't bear our own."

It hurt more than the healing wound on his arm, than the forming bruise on his throat. It was as if your dagger had sunk into his chest and twisted until his heart was nothing but a mangle of tissues and vessels. He protected Hell's Kitchen; he had kept it safe with his violence. Deep under the overlapping layers of his good conscience, he knew it was another way for Matt not to face his own pain. The past year was the embodiment of that. No matter how much time passed, he knew that time would always stay with him, reminding him of the destruction he had made.

"Stay out of my way if you know what's good for you."

You turned on your heels, stepped onto the ledge and jumped. Your gracefulness landed you on the fire escape as you descended, blending in with the surroundings once more. Matt tipped his head back onto the warm bricks and caught his breath, deep in thoughts and the scent of you lingering behind.

Wet earth. Fresh rain. The saltiness of your tears.

Matt came home to his empty apartment; frustration and pain burned his skin, grating his insides. His throat hurt, the wound on his arm throbbed, and his nose stung, but at least it had stopped bleeding. Matt knew he would have to take it easy for the next few nights. Matt peeled off the dirty suit, undoing the hand wraps quickly. Standing in his boxers, he went to the kitchen and turned on the kettle. The small machine hummed as it heated the water inside as Matt prepared his tea. While waiting for the water, he went to the bedroom and grabbed a zip-up hoodie and sweats before gingerly them on, careful of his injuries. Matt went through the motion automatically because he didn't allow himself to stop and think. Not yet. The kettle whistled a high-pitched note, dragging him to the kitchen. Water was poured, tea steeped, and honey added. Matt settled down at the kitchen table with his mug, hissing softly as his aching muscles voiced their discomfort. Matt closed his eyes, letting the steam of chamomile soothe his eyelids before diving into everything he knew about you. Which was not much at all. But he had more now than he knew of you six nights ago.

Rubbing his throat, Matt took a sip of his honeyed tea. He recalled the sound of your voice, the inflection of it when you were angry. The piercing rawness of it when you cried. He got to learn another part of you that he had tried to reach. You were in the position to knock him out swiftly, to kill him even, but you didn't. You spared him of your own volition. He might not know your name, but he knew your pattern now. You struck precisely, seizing someone on the weaker links and climbing up. However, singling out one of the lawyers on the retainer for one of the most notorious crime families gave him a clue of what you came to New York for. Even though it was out of character for you, it gave him a hint of where you could go next, and Matt wasn't going to pass out on this chance. The crime family you targeted was someone he had an interest in himself. The Stromwyns. They were a force to be reckoned with, and from what he knew of you, you acted alone. It was personal from your history with them, and he suspected you wanted to take them down yourself. Matt would admire your bravery if it wasn't so reckless and incredibly foolish. But on what ground could he judge you, considering that he did the same thing?

Your fist curled tightly, your knuckles drenched in blood and mangled flesh of your own and your victims. But you wouldn't stop, not until you got what you wanted. A swift punch followed another on Imani's broken face. Her bodyguards and associates laid unconscious a few feet away, leaving only your ragged breaths and the woman's pained whimpers echoed in the destroyed meeting room. You usually wouldn't strike them at their base, where they could easily call for backup, which they did, but you felt particularly reckless tonight. You were up for a challenge, and you almost paid for it. The searing pain on your side was the throbbing proof. You wanted to speed your investigation along, too impatient to wait. You had done enough of that. Still, this stubborn woman before you wouldn't give in. You could feel your temper rising, and soon, you wouldn't be able to control it. Imani was a delicate knot in an elaborate scheme that you couldn't solve by cutting her string short. You didn't take out her whole team for nothing, especially when your venture for revenge ended up being something bigger, something more sinister than you thought.

You gave Imani's face a slap. She came to before you, despite her drooping eyelids.

"I know the Stromwyns are planning something big. Tell me what it is."

She gave a bloody smirk, her teeth stained red. She tried to keep her head straight, her eyes bored into you.

"No."

"Should have saved that energy telling me what I want."

Another jab, and she fell to the floor. You propped her up against the table, pulling out the blade concealed on your thigh.

"One last chance. I won't be so lenient this time."

The thumps of his boots made it to your ears, and you felt the air change slightly. Maybe it was just you. His footsteps drew closer on the once pristine marble floor behind you, entering the crime scene. You closed your eyes, already knowing what he would say.

"Don't do this."

You didn't bother standing up to greet him this time.

"I've killed before. This will change nothing."

"Believe me. It will."

His tone was the same. Kind, soft, imploring for the part of you that no longer existed. Yet, he still searched for it, drawing it out. You would lie if you said you couldn't feel the tug of his kindness and patience on your heartstring. It was just that you couldn't afford to follow his call.

"Why are you still trying? Why waste time on me?"

You had to know whether it was his Catholic guilt, and you were his charity case, or it was something else entirely. It wasn't like New York's shady marketplace lacked assassins for hire. You knew that as much.

"I was you before. You think you're irredeemable. But you're not. You still have a chance to turn around …"

Your real name on his tongue sounded foreign to your ears. It affected you in a way you didn't think possible. The sound triggered the alarm going off in your head, screeching in your ears. You slowly rose on your feet, exhaling an unsteady breath. You had isolated yourself and made acquaintance with no one. The shock of Matt finding out shot unnerving prickles along your skin. You used his name in vain to gain an advantage, while he used yours in the hope of steering you back to yourself with such an intricate tenderness. And that made you angrier than ever.

You closed the distance between you, wielding the dagger between your skilled fingers.

"Who do you think you are? Waltzing in here with your talks, when you're doing the same thing as I am–"

"I don't kill–"

"Same - fucking - shit! Just because you don't kill doesn't make you better than me."

Your words were punctuated with each swipe of your weapon, which he easily dodged. You were blinded with rage, with a wave of anger so potent that you could only release it when your blade had sunk into his flesh. You knew deep down if you stopped, your weaker emotions would get the better of you. Your fury consumed you whole, fueling every step as you advanced toward the infuriating figure that seemed to have so much trust in you.

"Stop it! I know you have it in you to stop. I know it feels good to get revenge, but it will ruin you."

Matt only dodged your blows and not once fought back. It only fueled your boiling rampage.

"Shut up! Just … shut up and fight back!"

It was harder to ignore his voice and what he said now. His words were like vines, slipping through the cracks of your control, taking root quickly. But you were broken; no one could mend you. You had long accepted that you would never be someone you once wished to be. This was your life. Full of rage, violence and loneliness. That was how you would die. Your demons would always follow you, then, now, and when it was your time to depart this world. You were beyond saving.

The quiet click of a gun made you whip your head toward the sound. You couldn't see clearly through the veil of tears that had started trailing down your cheeks. That was when you realized that you had been crying. It was such an appalling recognition that you didn't register the bullet leaving its chamber. Everything that happened after that was so fast your mind couldn't catch up. You could only feel. You felt the rough contact of his body against yours when he tackled you, the hard marble floor on your back when you crashed. Matt continued to shield you with his body over yours as a few more shots rang out. He cried out suddenly as a bullet hit him; his body jolted but didn't move an inch. You tried to push him off you so the two of you could run for cover, but he wouldn't budge. Suddenly, it became eerily quiet except for some empty clicks, followed by a sharp cry of pain as Imani got up and took off toward the exit. You pushed Matt off, getting yourself ready to run after her, but you ceased acting on your instinct. Matt tried to rise with one hand braced on the littered floor, his lips parted to expel a pained groan. Your foggy mind replayed the feeling of him lunging for you, saving you from the bullets' line. You blinked, watching as your whole body trembled, the bloody blade unsteady in your hand. Your target had escaped, but that was the least of your concern right now. You looked to your saviour, fixed on the ghastly look on his almost unmasked face. His eyes stared straight ahead, his mouth opened agape, and his movements shaky before he dropped to the floor with a sickening thud.

Matt woke to the unfamiliar surrounding, with strange air and the companion of another's presence. He found himself almost naked, saved for his boxers, nestled between the warm sheets that definitely weren't the silk he used to. Despite its roughness, it was just as nice as his own, as it possessed your scent, earthy and soothing. Matt had grown to like it. A pleasant mix of you and his own blood, which he could sense as he moved to set his feet on the floor. Matt ran a hand through his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and felt no resistance. He seemed to only recognize the missing safety of his mask now, and for a brief moment, he panicked. It was soon washed away when the gentle breeze carried something else in from the open window. A scent of moss, morning dews, and vines seemed to attach themselves to the brick exterior of the building, like soil after the rain. It reminded him of how you always blended in with your environment. And the thought eased his concerns. If you wanted him dead, he wouldn't be alive right now. But Matt was here, in your home. Hurt but alive, the rough gauze on his thigh reminded him.

Matt took a few unsteady steps as he oriented himself, getting familiar with the surroundings. The search for the door was a success, and he opened it to step into a different world. A different feel. The space was warm and pleasant, with sunlight coming from the right side, and the aroma that hung in the air felt homey. Upon further inspection, Matt could smell freshly chopped parsley, rice, and chicken. In the midst of everything were you and your ever-steady heartbeat.

Without turning around, you directed him.

"Take a seat. Food is almost ready."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you bit onto your bottom lip, feeling a little out of place. There was something strangely domestic about the way you told him to make himself comfortable. Even though you did try to kill him just a few hours before.

Matt searched for the seating and sat down, his back resting nicely against the cushion. He closed his eyes, soaking in the warm sun. You let yourself look at him from where you were standing, taking in how peaceful he seemed. How at ease. He seemed different, yet still the same as the person who had followed you, matching your violence with his own just to urge you to turn the other way. Realizing that you had been staring at him for perhaps too long, you whirled around to tend to the steaming food. With the porridge done, you turned the stove off before pouring a good portion of the hot dish into two bowls and sprinkling some parsley on top.

You put the bowl in front of him with a soft thump, and his eyes lazily slid open. The spoon made a small clang on the wooden table as you set it down on his right before going to your seat. Matt picked up the spoon, taking in the dish before him. It was steaming hot with a savoury aroma of rice, chicken, herb and seasonings.

"I didn't poison it, don't worry."

Matt huffed a soft chuckle.

"I trust you."

"You're way too trusting considering what you do."

That made him smile. Matt took a spoonful of the food, blowing it for good measure before giving it a taste. A pleasant and hot feeling engulfed his tongue before it smoothly chased down his throat. The taste was delectable, flavourful and wholesome. It warmed him inside out.

"Seasonings are on your right. Just reach your hand out a little."

That made Matt pause for a moment, but he didn't say anything. You continued your meal in silence, and the air between didn't feel tense or forced. Outside of the enclosed space, New York was a bustle of sounds.

Your spoon made a small clang on the side of the bowl, and it seemed like you decided it was more than enough to start a new conversation.

"I'm guessing from the way you are not panicking or overwhelmed or freaking out, you've been blind for a long time?"

No beating around the bush. He liked that. People walked on eggshells around him, around his disadvantage, for a good reason. But Matt didn't need coddling. He definitely didn't need protecting, either.

"Since I was nine. Freak accident."

"Freaky indeed."

Those two words marked the end of your conversation. Matt occasionally felt your intense gaze, watching him carefully as he cleaned the bowl. Once his and your hunger were satiated, you put the dishes away in the empty sink. Matt stood up to help, but his good intention was quickly forgotten as he hissed lowly in pain. He touched the area around the wound, feeling its mouth crack, allowing the blood to seep into the gauze. Matt winced, and it didn't escape your watchful eyes.

Rummaging around your kitchen, you poured him a glass of water and set two pills in his palm.

"Take these. Or don't. I don't care."

Your halfhearted concern warmed his heart. He knew your intention behind it, and the little spike in your heart never lied. Matt took the pills as you walked away, fetching the medical kit.

"Can I see your wound?"

He nodded after a brief moment. You dragged your chair to settle beside him, and your thighs exchanged accidental brushes. Your touch was careful and tender as your hands worked on his broad thigh to unwrap the bloodied bandage. Matt's jaw clenched, holding back a pained groan as you pressed gently around the tender area. You cleaned up the blood with a clean cloth, precise and swiftly. Not a word passed between you as you secured the wound with a sterile bandage until you asked if you could see the injury on his side. There was something serene, tender and peaceful about the way you took care of him, as if you had done this many, many times before. As if you had known each other for a lifetime.

Once finished, you pulled away with a gentle squeeze on his knee before working on your injured hands. You sighed in exasperation as you undid the hand wraps. The torn skin on your knuckles was red and angry, staring back at you as they throbbed a warning melody, giving you no choice but to listen. You would have to take it easy for the time being.

Lost in your thoughts, your hands pulled on another roll of gauze when Matt's warm hand on your wrist startled you, sending a pleasant prickle to your skin. Your eyes widened as Matt extended an open palm, wordlessly offering to help you dress your wound. You stared at him, your eyes flicked at the upward motion of his brow. Tentatively, you passed the white fabric to him. Matt held you in his hands and quickly assessed your knuckles. Your hands were colder than his, calloused and scarred, like a written memoir of your past that you carried all the time. He tried not to think about the smaller, barely-there scars you probably obtained from your younger years. You were older now, yet, your fight hadn't ended. The path you walked on only led you further into the woods like a prisoner who still fought even though their chains were broken, their prison door unlocked. He wanted to focus on the now, where you were safe, alive and with him.

Judging by the echo of your apartment, it was spacious, cozy and most likely expensive. It was a bold move, living in the heart of Manhattan. You were almost fearless, that much he knew. Matt had no doubt that you knew what you were doing, considering your profession. Maybe your name on the lease was fake, or someone owed you a favour. A very big one.

"How do you afford this apartment?"

Matt kept his voice light, distracting you from the sting of disinfectant.

"How do you?"

You asked him with just as much airiness, if not more. He chuckled softly, shaking his head as you found yourself smiling with him. You continued as the crinkles around his eyes deepened in amusement, remembering that you probably knew where he lived.

"I kill for a living. Sometimes. I'm pretty good at my job, remember?"

Matt took a deep and sharp breath, and you bit your tongue. It was too much, and you felt stupid for making that joke.

"I only take on jobs that target the Stromwyn. Nothing beyond that. Anyone with mutual interest benefits me."

"I know."

"Do you now, smartass?"

Matt could hear a slight smirk in your voice. It was refreshing to see you so relaxed, so … different from what he had known of you. But then, you were full of surprises. Silence fell over you like a thin veil; the only sound left was his movements, wrapping the bandage around your hand.

"Don't you get tired of it?"

The strokes of his hands were soft, certain as he wrapped himself around you. His warmth spread to your hands, making you shiver. Just slightly. You took a long moment to yourself, mulling over what he said.

"I do. But I can't stop. They're still doing it to children, to little kids like … like I once was. I'm a result of them, and I won't be the last."

His grip on your hands tightened, careful of your injuries. Matt brought your intertwined fingers closer to his chest, urging you to look into his unsighted eyes. Upon the near distance, you noticed the hazel gleaming in the bright light of your kitchen, holding more than just your attention.

"What they did to you is not who you are. They don't get to make you into someone you don't want to be."

His words were kind, his touch was soft, and they suffocated you. You jerked your hands out of his as if his touch burned you. A reflection of hurt took shape on his furrowed brows and curved lips, and you felt sorry for pulling away. When did you turn so soft for a man you barely knew?

"My firm can bring attention to their organization. With a big case like this, it can't stay under wraps forever. I have connections, and I can assure you that there will be people looking into this. We can work together. I can help you. Let me. Please."

You swallowed hard, feeling queasy in your seat. You stood up, and Matt followed, but he gave you space when you started pacing. You had known for a long time that you wouldn't be able to do this by yourself. The Stromwyns' influence ran deep. It would take more than an assassin with a want for vengeance infused in her blood to uproot that. To completely dismantle their organization, you would need a miracle. And Matt just might be that miracle you need. You sighed heavily, bringing your nervous pacing to a stop. You held his unseeing gaze, more for your sake than his, as if to seal your fate.

"Fine."

Matt offered a hand to you, initiating a physical agreement. After a brief moment of fleeting contemplation, you held his offering hand and shook. He pulled you closer to him by your skin-on-skin attachment, making you take a sharp breath as the sudden movement grazed your wounded skin.

"No killing."

You tugged on his firm clasp, and he wouldn't let go.

"Fine. No killing."

Matt only released you then, and you were all too eager not to have his hands on you again. That was what you told yourself, even though your heart thrashed unhappily at the traitorous thought. The tingling feeling on your fingers was back, and your mind raced with the possibilities of an uncertain future and foreign feelings.

Matt delivered on his promise. It was a long fight, stretched over two years, but the outcome was victorious and sweet. Nelson, Murdock and Page investigated and gathered evidence with witnesses, bringing the case to New York's district attorney. The ordeal was blown up, which brought in law enforcement from the higher-up. The news of the Stromwyns controlling important assets throughout New York, infesting neighbourhoods with gangs and criminals to secretly collect "protection money" from the residents, was brought to the media, pulling the attention of the whole country. When things began to come to light, the Stromwyns issued a bomb threat in an attempt to bury the whispers. It backfired as the warning was proven real by you and Matt on your investigation at night. The FBI quickly acted on the lead, making arrests for the whole family. The Stromwyns were forced to liquify their assets, and their accounts in foreign countries were seized and frozen by the CIA. Unfortunately, before law enforcement could put all of them in cuffs, some members of the family had already fled to Europe, according to the intel you obtained illegally.

It amazed you how a team of three managed to make such an impact, how relentlessly and tirelessly they worked to get people involved. You were also a part of that team; Matt told you no matter how hard you denied it. He introduced you to his friends and partners, Foggy and Karen. Even though they were skeptical of your relationship with Matt, they took your intel seriously and worked with you. You kept your distance, knowing they weren't comfortable being in the same room with an experienced assassin as in Matt's past, and you were fine with that. You had a working association with them, striving for the same outcome. You weren't there to make friends.

You weren't sure what to make of your relationship with Matt. Something had changed, but you didn't want to acknowledge it. You couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to him when you had to leave eventually. You had each other's back when you scouted for new information, when you infiltrated the Stromwyn's warehouses. Those fights didn't often result in grave injuries; when they did, you took care of each other. Small and big damages. Matt ensured that you looked after yourself and wouldn't agonize over your past. He was there to soothe you in his secure embrace when you had a nightmare. It was almost as if his arms and hands had morphed around your frame, embracing you, making you feel at ease when your grief was too much. You would wake up thrashing in his arms when the needles were too close; the stiffness paralyzing your body felt too real. Eventually, your place or his wasn't a matter since you would always end up in the same bed at the end of everything, whether due to exhaustion or nightmare-filled nights into early mornings. Whenever you woke with a headache, he would have his special tea readied, along with medicine at your request. You were afraid that he would spoil you rotten, and if you got used to his affection and care, you would never be able to leave. You couldn't stay, couldn't allow yourself that one thing. You had shared too much of yourself with him, and you were afraid you would be left with nothing if you kept on giving. You knew you didn't deserve him. So you packed your stuff up and booked a flight to Germany, following the trail of the scattered Stromwyns. You decided to leave without a word, but Matt had another idea.

"Don't do this to me."

Call you sentimental, but you had come to the rooftop of your building one last time to soak in the sound, the feel, and the air of this city. There was nowhere else quite like it, and the reason wasn't entirely due to the man standing behind you. You didn't have to turn around to know it was Matt. Your apartment was empty now, doused in the warm late afternoon light. Matt stood before you, his dress shirt creased, his tie crooked, his hair ruffled, and his face flushed from exertion. He must have run from his office in Hell's Kitchen to your apartment in Midtown Manhattan. You extended your gratitude to Karen and Foggy in person for helping you with the case before Matt got there, nothing else. You guessed they were suspicious of that and told him, even though you didn't show anything out of place. You wanted to get this over with.

"Do what?"

"Leave. Leave New York. Leave me."

The wounded edge in his plea twisted the knife that was already embedded in your heart.

"I told you. I can't rest when they're still out there."

"Let the authority take care of that. Don't be reckless."

The tone in his last sentence was stern, reprimanding as if you were a child out of line.

"Me? Reckless?"

You turned to face him, appalled at his audacity.

"I followed your 'no killing' rule. These bastards are still free because of it."

Your hands helped enunciate each word you threw at him, even though it was fruitless. You were making a point for yourself. An excuse to leave.

"They can't run forever. You've done your part. You've suffered enough."

Matt erased the distance between you, getting close enough that you didn't want to step back. You would miss his warmth.

"Stay. You have friends here."

His tender intention thrummed on your nerves, coaxing your guard like the sweet honey he always put in your tea. His words were so convincing that you felt like you could be fooled.

"No, I don't. I don't have anyone."

You stubbornly turned your head away, unable to look at him.

"You have me. Foggy and Karen, too. They don't say it but they do care about you. And I do, too."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

He said it with so much conviction. You wanted to believe him.

"I can't, Matt. I don't know who I am without this."

The constant running, following, chasing. The continuous shutout from people, shielding yourself until you were isolated and all alone. In a way, your violence, pain, and loneliness were a way for you to punish and protect yourself. That was how you stayed anchored to reality, never strayed too far from your cruel fate, and never looked at what you could have been.

"You're still you. The strongest, most stubborn person I know. Even when you don't know yourself, you'll get there eventually. Stop running and allow yourself a chance to live the life that you deserve. To be who you want to be."

"I'm still a murderer. That's all I am and all I'll ever be. I'm only capable of that, and I will only bring you down with me by merely being in your life."

He shook his head.

"Yes, I will, Matt. Nothing good comes with me. Why don't you just let me go?"

Your throat hurt with the stricken cry that was torn from your chest. Your eyes were wide, watching Matt through the thin veil of your tears.

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you. Everything about you."

Matt inched even closer, and you let him step into your space, knocking down your crumbling barrier. You weren't strong enough to back away. To run. You were exhausted from it.

"Please …"

You had always been careful, five steps ahead of most things. But not everything. You didn't expect to fall for Matt, yet, you did. This was his desperate plea for you to stay, to live your life instead of hiding in the shadows, being a ghost of who you truly were. He had whittled away your defence wall, brick by brick, over the span of time you knew each other. He taught you there was safety in letting go. And you did.

In a swift and clumsy motion, you slammed your lips against Matt's, accepting his promises, love, and everything in between. His full lips were soft and addictive, parting easily to deepen the kiss. Your tongues tangled in a fiery dance, and you felt like you could get drunk on his taste alone. Like the barest hint of salt, a touch of cinnamon spice, and something else that only belonged to him. His hand tangled in your hair, bringing you closer as if it was possible. When he was finally satisfied with the absence of space in between, his hand trailed down to the column of your throat in a soft caress, before stopping at the coursing, delicate pulse. Matt pressed in with his fingertips, acting on the overwhelming need to feel you, to feel the proof as if your woven bodies and intertwined tongues weren't enough. That you were real, and you were here with him. You only parted when you felt like your body could slip away from your consciousness. You heaved hard, feeling the gasps of air on your lips as Matt touched his forehead to yours. He whispered against your lips.

"Please. Stay with me."

You closed your eyes. You were tired of running, of letting your rage consume you. You and Matt were two flames. Similar to a fault, but he brought balance to you in his own way. He soothed that anger inside you and showed you that there was more to you than your past, the deadly intents you carried in the company of your wrath. You had a chance to start over with a future that wouldn't end in solitude, with the man who had so much trust in your potential when you didn't. At last, you weren't afraid to take it for yourself, as long as Matt was with you. You nodded; your face bore joyous tears and a genuine smile.

"I'm all yours."

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!*

[operafantomet]

I'm sorry, but original Phantom of the Opera belongs in NYC, and nothing you say can change my mind

Michael Crawford at the cover of New York in Jan. 1988

Michael Crawford outside The Majestic Theatre

NYC bus with POTO ads

Hugh Panaro, Marni Raab and Kyle Barisich holding the Guinness World Records certificate for longest-running Broadway production in 2012

Ben Crawford, Meghan Picerno and ensemble at Times Square for the re-opening of the Broadway production after Covid

Emilie Kouatchou, Ben Crawford, Paul Schaefer and Julia Udine at the 35th anniversary in 2023

Ben Crawford joining for the New Years celebrations at Times Square in 2021-2022

Peter Jöback, Ali Ewoldt and Rodney Ingram at the 30th anniversary ceremony at Empire State Building

Degas calendar 2008: Cheering for The Mets at Shea Stadium

Degas calendar 2008: Joining a tourist bus through town

Degas calendar 2008: Ballerinas and NYC skyline

Degas calendar 2008: Returning "home" for Degas paintings at The Metropolitan Museum of Art

Statue of Liberty with mask cloud

Jennfer Hope Wills and Howard McGillin doing a gentle Wicked imitation at the Time Out cover in 2007

Starry mask formation over NYC's skyline

Broadway productions joining for a re-make of the ad promoting taking the subway when seeing Broadway shows

Paul Schaefer and Julia Udine from same ad series

NYC skyline with moon mask

Ali Ewoldt at Empire State Building for the 30th anniversary

Empire State Building cover for the 30th anniversary

[abr]

QUALCOSA STA CAMBIANDO, PICCOLI SEGNALI

Sopra la foto di Hannah Neeleman, 33 anni, proclamata MrsAmerica a LasVegas.

NON E' UNA TRANS. MADRE DI SETTE FIGLI, vive con loro e il marito in una fattoria dello Utah dopo aver vissuto anche fuori Usa (non è una all american tutta wow e patate). Oggi fa la madre, la ranchera e l'imprenditrice: ha fondato "Ballerina Farm" brand che vende i prodotti del suo ranch in tutti gli Usa.

Ex Ballerina professionista a NYC dove si è diplomata con lode, è stata  Miss New York City, poi Mrs. Utah in 2021. Ha 6,1 milioni di follower su Instagram, TikTok e YouTube.

"LA PACE NEL MONDO" - Alla domanda, "when you have felt the most empowered" qual è stato il momento in cui ti sei sentita PIU REALIZZATA nella tua vita, lei ballerina di successo e imprenditrice ha risposto:

" Quando ho stretto i miei neonati tra le braccia per la prima volta, il senso di maternità è stata la sensazione più forte che io abbia mai provato. Per sette volte". IMPUNEMENTE !

.... STA CAMBIANDO ...

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