#i think the hardest thing for me to draw are his eyes. i can't stick on a design.

[sheeshiki]

i want to apologise to anyone who follows me and who doesn't like that i've fallen into *m*t-s*lch hell.

on a positive note, i can't believe a stupid video game villain is inspiring me to become better at drawing (and who also inspires joy through practising)

[kaeyas-beloved]

dust

Character: Albedo

— when chalk crumbs, all that’s left is dust

CWs: gn!reader (no pronouns), ANGST, hurt/no comfort, death (Albedo), could be read as romantic or platonic, I bullshit a research entry in this, spoilers for Albedo

val’s no sympathy november masterlist

He... he always talked about losing control. You never really understood what he meant by it, but you do remember the nights holding him tight and swearing that he would never fall to such evil. It just wasn't something he'd do, and your unwavering faith in him always brought him some form of comfort, even when he never believed you for a second.

"It's nice, to have someone place their trust in me that is."

But now, as you stand in the middle of the aftermath, smoke heavy in the air, buildings crumbling all around, any vision wielder that could fight congregating in the middle of the city and a pile of dust on the ground, you're left to wonder if there was any stopping what fate had ordained.

For a split second you could swear you heard nothing. When the arrow was fired and struck the threat to Mondstadt - struck Albedo, you remind yourself, he wasn't something, he was someone - you didn't know what to feel. You could feel the eyes of the people on you as you walked without thought toward the pile of powder. The pain as you scraped your knees on the concrete was nothing compared to the pain in your chest.

"The Chalk Prince... I see now..." you mumbled, hesitating to touch the substance.

"Why are you called the Chalk Prince? Don't tell me it's because you were created from chalk?" You'd asked one day while helping him in his lab, sitting not far from him on a stool.

Albedo remained silent, going back and forth between skimming through notes and adjusting the settings on his burner. "That is a conversation for another time. Now please, could you hand me two lizard tails? One blue and one red."

He never did outright answer you, but you remember him talking about how all living things will eventually and inevitably return to their original state. Maybe this is what he was trying to tell you.

The hand on your shoulder brings you back, but you can't bring yourself to look up at who it is (you later learn it was Kaeya, who had his own complicated expression). From there everything was a mess of colours and muddled words. You catch a couple apologies for your loss, people running to check on their loved ones and their homes, and discussions about what to do now. Nothing really sticks though, a case of looking but not seeing, hearing but not listening. You do, however, remember hours later being handed a wooden box, Albedo's name, birth and death date carved on the front.

“You were the closest to him. Klee also received something similar.” Fuck, you think, a fresh wave of tears coming along. Your heart breaks at just the thought of how devastated and confused Klee must be. Seeing the instant change in emotions, Jean quietly leaves you be.

The hardest part though was going through his office. It was a day you thought you’d never be prepared for. When you arrived you were proven right, stuck hesitating at the doorway.

You’d never again see him sat at his desk, documenting his findings or refilling his stock of alchemy ingredients. That painting in the corner by the window will forever lay unfinished and the small bed never to be slept in again.

His presence will slowly fade and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

With a heavy heart and tears in your eyes, you start the long and agonizing process of packing his things away. Beginning with his desk you put away various books, loose papers, displays and even the drawings Klee had gifted him over the years. You moved on to strip his bedding, then pack away his paintings. By time you reached the last bookshelf the warm hue of the evening sun was already illuminating the room.

Letting out a quiet yet shaky sigh you get to work again. Since the books were already in order you took care to keep them close to one another, taking off three or four at a time. Despite how gentle you tried to be though you managed to drop a few, the covers too heavy and slipping from your grasp. You’re quick to apologize even though there wasn’t anyone to apologize to. Still, it felt like you should.

As you collect the hardcovers and the loose papers that were neatly placed between the pages, a particular title catches your eye. Gentle setting what you gathered off to the side you begin reading through the research entry, which was dated about a year and a half ago.

During my research into the mysteries of life and creation, many documents from various backgrounds mentioned the potential of substances holding 'memories'. Some focused on the nature aspects, how trees and lakes remember what and who has affected them. Others however stated that all tangible beings can be included in this theory. Due to the evidence presented, as well as previous knowledge, I believe both are possible.

Molecular wise, it’s not out of the scope of reality, and it’s backed up in the biological aspect as well if heredity is taken into account. It raises the question of just how far alchemy can stretch the laws of nature, and if this can be applied to any and all substances that have been touched by human and nature's hands.

The moment you finish reading a tiny spark of hope ignites within you, and your body launched into autopilot before you could even think. Chalk is a substance. The chalk was him so it would have memories of him. I could bring him back! You start scanning for similar papers around the room and in his notebooks, hoping to find more clues; you collect the things you think you'd need to go through with this act of divinity.

Just as you're about to dump the first chemical that comes to mind you freeze. You... don't actually have any idea what you're doing...

No, you think, inhaling a shaky breath, I've watched him do these kinds of things so many times, I have to know something. You go to pour again yet stop once more; as the bottle trembles in midair you know deep down it's true, you don't know the first thing about creating artificial life, let alone alchemy.

The bottle thunks back onto the surface of the table and a new wave of tears begins to flow, though this time not because of loss but due to hopelessness.

Your legs are quick to give out from beneath you, your back leaning against the desk and as you bring your knees to your chest, sobs filling the forever quiet space, you manage to choke out your true feelings.

"Albedo... I don't know what to do..."

Tag list: (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

+

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood // @ii-lily2 // @esuz // @kochothehoe // @cindywasneverhere

[silver-itallics]

Last Light

Warnings: canon typical violence, heavy angst, hurt no comfort, you guys will be mad at me

a/n: I was thinking about when Leigh mentioned in the saw commentary that someone wrote a monologue from Lawrence's point of view after leaving the bathroom and I wanted to write one for Adam

"I'm a liar?"

"I wouldn't lie to you."

Liar, lies. Seems like either way, Adam is getting screwed over.

He sits in the dark, dingy bathroom, his eyes still struggling to adjust. His throat is raw and aching from all the screaming and crying. Not even the hardest sex could have done that to him.

God, he's really gonna die having fucked one person.

All of his relationships were mediocre, even the platonic ones. Scott treated him like shit, the guy probably hasn't even noticed that he's gone.

Has anyone?

Lawrence is someone that would be noticed, he's got a wife and kids for fucks sake.

"I've got a family too, Lawrence! I don't talk to them anymore, that's my mistake. A mistake I'd like to fix."

One of the last things he remembers at the apartment is scribbling "Call mom?" On a crumpled post it and sticking it to the wall. The paper has probably fallen down by now. Forgotten.

Are his parents even looking for him?

Probably not. They probably haven't noticed either.

Everything that Adam does ends up screwing him in the end, just like this. But he can't really blame anyone but himself, can he? Not even $200 was worth being stuck in this bathroom. Doesn't even soften the fact that he'll probably be here forever.

The money was meant to go for his food. Not a camera, not developing fluid, not even that shiny new pokemon game Adam wanted. Food.

A necessity he barely even had.

"Why? Call it my need to eat."

He remembers snapping at Lawrence like it was the most obvious answer. But food is a luxury even Adam can't afford. The guy lives off of ramen noodles and sodas from the gas station. Sometimes he even wonders why he never gained any weight since he ate such shit.

His mom was never the greatest cook, but he'd take soggy meatloaf and unseasoned mashed potatoes any day.

At the thought, Adam's stomach rumbles. His guts ache from hunger, but he's not a stranger to it. That's usually how his day goes.

He can't even blame Jigsaw for trapping him here. But in all honesty, Adam has done so much self sabotaging, that he's probably done worse to himself than the man that left him here.

He's felt worse betrayal than when the dead man stood up, peeled the fake skin off his skull and left him here.

"Game over!"

Dead man. Adam squints in the darkness, trying to make out Zep's corpse. He's not even sure why. The first time he saw a dead body, or what he thought was one, he puked his guts out into the tub. Couldn't even keep down his latest meal.

He'll probably starve even quicker now.

The room smells like blood, and his fingers are sticky from the same substance. Not only is he a voyeur, he's a killer. Maybe his last girlfriend was right: he's too angry.

Adam isn't very good at anatomy, at least the human side of it. But he knows he broke through layers of skin and bone when he'd crushed through the hospital orderly's skull.

"It's the rules!"

Knowing now, he feels guilty. Awful, even. Guy probably had a family too, even if he was a bit of a creep. Where do you draw the line of deserving a family? What's so bad that you no longer are worthy of someone related by blood? Adam's probably the worst person to ask that.

He'd stormed out on his parents after a petty argument, an excuse to leave. One that he'd been wanting to have since he was seventeen. Somehow, he'd convinced himself that they wouldn't accept him, even if they let him drop out of high school and didn't even call the cops when he left. But was that tolerance or pure disinterest?

Maybe he's not a total waste of time, since his mom had called not long before he got his power knocked out the same way he was.

"Adam, your father's not angry anymore."

Lawrence had a home, a family. A good one, too. The pictures he saw of Diana and Alison made him crack a smile. At least before the one with them tied up. He shivers, probably both from disgust and blood loss.

His shoulder aches, oozing blood all over his shitty thrift store clothes. Adam understands why Doctor Gordon left. He has some place to go, people to welcome him home with open arms. Most places Adam went, he wasn't even noticed.

He kicks with his right foot in anger, the chain rattling as he does. The metal bites into his skin and the amount of pain he's in is just frustrating at this point. Adam screams, but his voice is raw and broken.

As much as he hopes the doctor will come back for him, at least he has half the brain to know that Lawrence probably won't make it. The man that he's had the first physical touch from in months is probably bleeding out in the sewers, and there's nothing he can do about it.

He doesn't even have a choice to cut off his foot like the doctor did. Sure, the blood loss will probably kill him, but Adam is sick of waiting around for something to happen. A job to drop, a phone call.

But he can't even do that.

The hacksaw he found in the toilet had snapped in half. A result of his ever consuming anger. Seems like everything he does leads back to that.

"I see a strange mix of someone who's angry, yet apathetic. But mostly just pathetic."

If Adam isn't angry at the world, he's angry with himself. He feels like a waste of space on the good days and a tumor on the face of the earth on the bad ones. At least with photography he felt like he had a purpose, even if it was supplying creeps and weirdos with material. He wasn't really helping anyone, was he? Even Tapp ended up dead.

But Lawrence helps people. Even if he thought the guy was initially a jerk, Adam admires him. Misses the man's blood stained hands as he cupped his cheeks.

"I wanted to be a vet."

That way, he'd benefit the world somehow. Even if he was pulling tennis balls out of dogs' throats or cleaning up puke every day. He'd much rather smell vomit, as he's getting quite sick of the coppery scent of blood.

"That's nonsense. I've seen kids with brain cancer graduate high school from a hospital bed."

"They got further than I ever did."

Adam has been pretty able bodied his whole life. While he'd consider it a nuisance that his body doesn't match up with his own view of himself, that's not a disability.

Maybe his parents wouldn't even mind, maybe they'd help him with the cost of surgery and injections. But he hadn't even told them. His parents barely know who he is. Adam barely knows himself.

"What do voyeurs see when they look in the mirror?"

Nothing. The answer is nothing.

He's like a leech, sucking the energy and luck out of everyone around him.

Now he's left to sit in his own grave- metaphorically and literally. He probably won't even have the luxury of being buried or cremated.

Hopefully someone will come around and put him out of his misery. Like a calf with two heads or a dog with rabies.

But until then, he's left to wait.

[heartfullofleeches]

Okay, so, thank you for letting me share- sorry it isn't that great, but I wanted to send you my thoughts. I hope I did Erin enough justice.

Erin sits outside the school, waiting for you to appear out the door. His 3 lackies hang around him, doing thier own thing as they wait for his command. One of them, Lark, being fairly new to the gang, wanted to impress Erin. He wanted to show his toughness worthy of the group.

"I can't believe such a dork goes to this school." He snarked. His attitude was pitifully overconfident, and his eyes were shining with innocent admiration. If he wasn't so naive, he would've seen the two others immediately stiffen, staring at him in fear, fear for him. They knew what was going to happen.

"I mean, it would be better off if they went off and-" A gag and cough as he's grabbed by the throat and slammed against the school building. He's staring wide-eyed at Erin who is seething. Erin's grip refuses to loosen, and poor little Lark was gasping for needed air he could not reach.

"Listen here." Erin brings his face closer. "You're not allowed to call them any kind of name you think you're entitled to. You don't even have the privilege of insulting their very being." He prepares his pocket knife, ready to hand out punishment. "I know I picked you up a few days ago. You said you admired what I did. I let you join out of boredom, but I guess I mistook your stupid face as potential." A stupid little fledgling that didn't understand, that's what he was, and Erin was going to make sure he knew and learned the first time.

Erin takes the knife and points it at Lark's cheek, drawing just a little bit of blood to show off his serious intent. "This will be your punishment." He draws the knofe back ready to burn Lark's mistakes into his skin, but as luck would have it, or misfortune in Erin's case, you so happen to walk out of the school at that time to see the display of Eric's violence about to happen.

It was a flurry of emotions and confusion that happened in what felt like an instant. You, out of adrenaline from either fear or anger, ran up and knocked Erin onto the ground. Lark was freed and started coughing from the irregular air flow to his lungs. He falls to his knees trying to grasp consciousness and some sort of stability in his mental capacity. His brain was battling the intense fear Erin overwhelmed him with.

"Are you okay?" He's finally able to hear clearly. He looks up at you to see a concerned face. He is a bit stunned to speak. "Come on, let's get you to the nurses office." He feels your hands guide him to stand walk over back to the school building. He trying to wrap his head around what's going on.

He doesn't notice you splitting off for a bit, maybe a small mumble of "I'll be right back", but he's completely ignorant to the scene of you coming back for Erin.

You walk to Erin, who is still on the ground, completely ignoring the 2 lackies sticking to the back. You raise your foot, and give your hardest kick to the gut, before immediately walking away in disgust. He can hear you mumbling words of hatred and filth.

You catch up to a still-dazed Lark and being him to the nurse's office.

Erin lays on the ground curled up. No one is there except him and his 2 lackies, but those 2 refuse to get close enough to what had jist occured. Which was good for Erin because they would not notice his red face, his crazed eyes, and his constant muttering of your name. And all to himself in his mind was repeating the cruel actions you put against him and how much he wanted more.

Whoa! You got trash Boi down really well! It was a great read and it's almost adorable how Erin protects Reader in his own weird way. Thank you for sharing your wonderful writing!

[radiantlyrey]

Doctor Who Review: S1/S14E02 - The Devil's Chord

The second episode of this season's double premiere, "The Devil's Chord" follows the Doctor and Ruby Sunday to 1963 as they go to watch the Beatles record their first album. But something has gone wrong with music, and the pair soon find themselves in a fight for the universe against the mysterious Maestro.

It's difficult to know where to begin with this episode, because I adored almost everything about it. It's beautiful on a technical level—the sound design, music, cinematography, and costumes are all top-notch—but it also hits so many good notes (if you'll pardon the pun) with the performances and action as well. There's a lot in this episode that's unsettling to me, but it's still a magnificent piece of fiction from start to finish.

If we have to start somewhere, then let's start with the standout guest star: Jinkx Monsoon, whose electrifying performance brings Maestro to life with a wicked, campy glee. From the first moment they appear, Maestro draws the eye--not just with their over-the-top costumes and makeup, but also with the way their mood seems to turn on a dime. One moment they're a little gleeful, and the next they're riding a wave of fury as they scream in a slightly lower register. I think it's fair to say that this episode largely works <em>because</em> of Monsoon, who makes Maestro feel equal parts campy and dangerous. The scene when Ruby and the Doctor are hiding from Maestro is a particular highlight for me; Monsoon owns the screen for those few minutes, her performance so magnetic that I felt like I couldn't look away. (I don't know if Doctor Who qualifies for the Emmys this year--it might because Disney is co-producing--but if it does, they really ought to submit Monsoon's performance in one of the Guest Role awards.)

And this isn't to sell Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson short--their performances are a little dwarfed by Maestro's screen presence, but no less excellent. The Doctor is only rarely out of his depth, and Gatwa really sells his terror and helplessness when Maestro first appears. Gibson does good work here, too; Ruby's horror at the nuclear winter in the alternate 2024 is grounded even more when she tearfully asks the Doctor where her mum is. Their chemistry together continues to delight me; the scenes when they're watching the various music recordings pop out in my memory. (Ruby gently patting the Doctor on the back as he's almost literally knocked over by how <em>bad</em> the orchestra is sticks out in particular.) They're making quite a good TARDIS team so far, and I can't wait to see what they do next.

But the thing that hits me hardest about this episode is the place it seems to hold in the season's overall story. We get a few more crumbs about Ruby's background, which are made all the more interesting because Maestro seems genuinely unnerved (and a little terrified?) by her. More significant to me, however, is the sheer number of fourth-wall breaks in the episode. Maestro acknowledges the camera twice and plays the opening notes of the show's theme song (bleeding into the opening credits themselves). The Doctor <em>also</em> winks at the camera at the end of the episode, and at one point makes a comment about non-diegetic music (namely, mistaking Maestro's diegetic music for the music that backs the whole show). That last is <em>especially</em> intriguing given the appearance of old musical themes in diegetic sound here. When the Doctor and Ruby encounter Maestro in the bad future, Maestro plays three notes of the opening theme, as well as the Master's theme from Series 3. The Doctor also seems to recognize the song Ruby first sings while under Maestro's control, but I haven't been able to positively identify that one yet. I have a feeling that this episode is going to be <em>vital</em>  to the season's arc, but I can't quite figure out <em>how</em> yet.

So that's a whole <em>other</em> ball of wax. I don't have a lot of coherent thoughts about the episode, but I do have a small list of things I liked, so let's get into that:

- First off, SUSAN FOREMAN. The Doctor tells Ruby about living in Shoreditch with his granddaughter, and Ruby asks him where Susan is. He speculates that she's probably gone (which to my mind makes me think that she might actually be coming <em>back</em>?? maybe???).

- In the same vein, I love that the Doctor is being more open about his past. Previous New Who Doctors often had to have backstory details dragged out of them, but Fifteen is a relatively fresh breath of air in comparison. I think this also ties in a little with the 60th anniversary specials, and the way the Doctor was more willing to be openly affectionate and more emotionally available. We see a lot of that still with Fifteen, both here and in "Space Babies."

- Another intriguing detail: the Doctor mentions seeing Ruby perform with her band at Christmas in "The Church on Ruby Road", which stuns Ruby a little, and which the Doctor does not explain further. I have my theories about what was going on with the Doctor "following" Ruby in that episode, but I'm going to sit on them for now.

- I know I mentioned the music up above, but I really liked how it was used in this episode. The non-diegetic music is largely absent when the Doctor and Ruby first arrive in 1963, only popping up in scenes where the characters are deep in their feelings (the Doctor's conversation with Paul; Ruby's song for Trudy on the rooftop). I've already discussed the use of diegetic music, but needless to say, I enjoyed the way this episode meta-fictionally played with the notion of music in film.

All in all, "The Devil's Chord" is a delightfully weird episode, with great performances all around and intriguing threads being laid for the stories ahead. With the next episode being written by Steven Moffat (my favorite), I can't wait to see where this season of Doctor Who takes us next.

[komyoffxiv]

#21- Grave (Komyo)

"Good morning, daddy." Komyo murmured, kneeling with her small bag in front of the grave. She frowned as she saw the state of it- leaves and dirt scattered at the base of the pillar, her previous flowers still there, dried out completely by the hot sun. Weeds sending tendrils up from the ground around the Hingan-style grave.

Heedless of her fine kimono, she set to weeding and cleaning the grave, using her claws to dig up the roots of the unwanted plants and the sleeve of her kimono to brush away the dirt and to shine the surface of the grave.

"I'm sorry it's been so long, daddy. It's been hard. I'm trying to watch out for Mother and Aki, but you know how they both are. ...Aki's been doing better, but the stone you left to him, and the armor...they weigh heavy on him. I wish I could do more, I try and be the steady stone that he can find his center and strength in, but I worry about him. I wish you were here... to see him and be proud... and to guide him, too. To give him someone to talk to that... that knows. I think... I think that's what's hardest on him. It's the first time either of us have ever had to really handle something...alone."

She swallows hard, tears closing her throat and gathering in her lashes. Resting a hand on the stone, she whispers, "Daddy... tell me what to do. Tell me what to say, what I can give him that will ease his heart. What did Mother give to you? What did the tribe give? Were you... were you so alone too?"

The thought made her heart ache, remembering her father's easy smile and the way his eyes lit up with pride when he looked at her even if he didn't always understand why she did what she did. Akihito needed that smile, now. Her hand tightened up into a fist and she beat it lightly against the stone without realizing it, crying out softly, "Why aren't you here, daddy?! Why can't I find you... I've searched for your spirit, the way the tribe teaches, the way the onmyouji teach. But you're gone... I didn't learn fast enough to find you before you forgot. I tried, daddy. I'm still trying so hard... Trying to keep everything together. Trying to help Mother even though she's gotten so... so..." Her voice trails away, unable to speak ill of her mother to her father. Eyes closing, the Auri woman shakes her head and murmurs, "I'm sorry, daddy. I know you'd tell me I shouldn't worry so much. But I love them, I love them and I can't heal what's broken, what's hurting. ...I can't even heal myself. I miss you, I miss you so much, and now that I've left the Sugisekki... I don't know where I'm going to go. What I'm going to do. Please... please find a way to send me a sign. Something... something to tell me I'm doing right. That I'm going the right way."

Leaning her head forward, she touches her forehead to the sun-warm stone and whispers again, "Please." Then she draws back and pulls a few things from the bag. New flowers and plants- sweet and earthy scents from the Steppe to adorn and mark the grave as well-tended and loved. A pair of cups and a flask of kumis. A little container with a few buuz. A bowl and a stick of incense that stood in the bowl. Lighting the incense, she waited until the smoke began to rise before pouring kumis into each cup, raising hers in a salute, and drinking. The alcohol burned and made her head spin for a moment, and she smiled as she remembered the first time she'd taken a sip from her father's cup. How she'd shouted! And of course, Aki needed to try it too after that. Her mother laughing, her father looking sheepish at letting the little ones get into his cup. The little tableaux of family was far, far away from the grave that stood in this cemetery. It was the family that Komyo held in her head as she drank her kumis. When it was done, down to the last drop, she put the flask and her cup into the bag and, reluctantly, rose to her feet. She touched her fingers to her lips and transferred a kiss to the grave, brushing it against the stone.

"I love you, daddy. I'll visit again next moon, I promise."

(( Akihito belongs to @talesfromthegameff14))

[boymeetsweevil]

Call me maybe

Grouping: Reader x Namjoon

Word Count: ~6.59k

Warnings/Themes: Club meet-cute AU, 1% angst +99% suggestive fluff, (legal!) alcohol consumption, language, flirting anxiety(?)

Summary: It all started with a stupid drinking game...

A/N: this is the One Direction wattpad-style fanfic that's been haunting me for so long. beware of that and the fact that this is unedited hahaha...

“You know the rules, girls. Whoever wins this round of rock-paper-scissors is It.”

You and your three friends, warm and bubbly from 2 rounds of shots at this point in the evening, assume your battle stances and stick your hands into the center of your table. Four hands make a square over the scattered layer of empty decorative shot glasses from the bar in the club.

There’s an air of electric excitement that comes with this game, lovingly nicknamed Hunter-Gathering. Whoever is It gets a target and has to pursue that target in hopes of bringing ‘home’ free drinks for everyone the rest of the night. But no matter how attractive the target is, you can't ever bring them home.

“Wait, wait!” Lia chimes in. “I can’t be It this time. I did it twice already and my ass still hurts from the last time.”

Dani nods seriously. “Fair enough. That means the odds are upped for the rest of you.”

“So, we’re just gonna ignore that ass thing,” another friend, Alexa, looks around the table with confused eyes.

“Do you actually want me to give you the details?” Lia smiles slowly at her from across the table.

Alexa’s face brightens with her own smile, worry evaporated. “You know what? I don’t! Never mind.”

The game begins and somehow you find yourself the lone rock amongst two pairs of scissors. Alexa and Dani laugh with relief because they don’t have to put in any work tonight. You roll your eyes to the heavens and silently question your karma.

“Are you ready to pick your target?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Nope!” Dani grins.

She steps forward and grabs a clean face mask out of her clutch bag and wraps it around your eyes, careful not to muss your makeup or hair. Three pairs of hands rest on your shoulders and you let them spin you lightly around a few times. Not enough to get you dizzy but just enough to make sure you don’t know what direction you’re facing anymore.

“Alright,” Dani’s voice sounds out over the music of the club. “Take your pick!”

You stick your hand out blindly and someone unties the makeshift blindfold. Everyone follows the line your hand makes all the way to a tall figure standing by the side of the bar.

He’s probably the most handsome man any of you have seen in a while. There's an intimidating aura emanating from him. You figure it's the understated all-black outfit complete with the heinously expensive watch he's wearing and the sheer height of him as he towers over people near him at the bar.

“Oh my god,” Dani whispers as you all take in the stranger’s face.

“We can finally get top shelf vodka,” Alexa pretends to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Not bad,” Lia hums in appreciation.

“Okay, why is everyone acting like I bagged him already?” Your voice grows high with nerves. “I'm pretty sure I have, like, a 2% chance of interesting him."

“What are you so worried about?” Dani crosses her arms at you. “Just do whatever you did to get those history nerds to help you out that one time."

"This is not the same thing. Those guys parted their hair 90/10 unironically and thought Diva Cups are for when you don't want to hold your pee when you stand in line for roller coasters."

"You're kidding," Lia gasps. You wish you were.

"Well, just pretend he's one of them anyway." Dani suggests, "Every guy is the same."

You can't argue with that logic.

“I mean, I can try flirting with him, but he’s probably so used to people throwing themselves at him. I don’t think anything I do would, like, make a dent, you know?”

“Babe, no. No—listen to me, okay?” Alexa takes you by the shoulders and forces you around so you can see how serious she is.

“Tonight is the last free night of vacation. After tonight, we have less than a day to get over our hangovers, pack up the Airbnb, and then catch our 6am flight back home to start the spring term. Our last night of freedom lies in your hands.”

“But, what if—”

“No ‘but’s. Do you see yourself? Do you see your skin in this fresh white two piece? Have you seen how your tits look in this off the shoulder top? That poor man doesn’t stand a chance!”

Lia murmurs her agreement in the background and Dani mentions something about fearing for the guy's soul. You think about the freakishly good pictures you all took in the stylish club bathroom when you first arrived.

“I see your point.”

You turn back toward the bar to review your target. He sips from a dark green bottle as he looks around at the people on the dance floor between your table and the bar. As he continues to scan the room, he locks eyes with you. You hold his gaze even though your instincts are screaming at you to duck for cover. Surprisingly, he gives a small smile and raises his bottle in salute.

"See, you got the hardest part down already. Just fake the rest until you make it."

You chance a look back in his direction only to catch him staring in the direction of the table. When he catches your gaze again, he whips his head away, cheeks tinging pink under the soft yellow lighting at the bar.

Alexa cackles and starts detailing all the drinks she wants made with the top shelf vodka. Lia and Dani discuss leaving early to go back and clean up the apartment so it’s clean in case you break the rules and bring this guy back for the night.

“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little fast?”

“Aren’t you moving a little slow,” Alexa counters.

“Hold on, Lex.” Dani turns to you. “You know you don’t actually have to do this if you don’t want to, right? Hunter-Gathering is just a game, there's no pressure.”

For all their poking and teasing, you're reminded right then and there that your friends would never put you in a situation where they thought you were actually at any risk. The weight you felt on your shoulders lightens somewhat.

“No, no, I definitely still want to play, I just don’t want you guys to get your hopes up.”

“I believe in you.”

Lia bumps shoulders with you quietly. She’s not the most affectionate, so you know she really means it.

“I’ll do my best.”

You let them tweak you a little bit, fixing stray hairs and wiping away smeared lip gloss and hiking up your skirt, giving you their drink orders, before you grab your purse and phone and push in your stool.

When you finally make it to the bar, he’s in the same spot as you first found him in. He spots you once you get close enough and naturally makes room for you. You set your bag on the bar countertop before hopping up on the empty stool immediately in front of him. The movement causes your skirt to ride up even more and you’re glad you only let Lia hike it up one inch instead of three.

Dani's advice about treating this guy like any other scrub from school reverbs in the back of your head right as the nerves start to set in. With the guys in your art history class, your grade was on the line. There was no room for hesitation when you could barely draw a stick figure, much less write an essay analyzing what an old painting style could tell you about the dairy economy in a certain town like some of your classmates were doing. It was because you were desperate that you were suddenly able to transform into a femme fatale. It also helped that these guys quivered at any interaction with an adult woman.

Tonight's drinks are on the line, you tell yourself. As best you can, you try to trick yourself into entering the same mindset you were in when you would lay on the charm extra thick for the art history guys.

You let the corner of your mouth lift up in a coy smile while you survey the bar. The bartender is moving back and forth quickly to handle the high demand. A second later the girl next to you leaves her spot with a tray of 8 bright pink drinks, practically glowing in the dark. You wonder briefly if you should try to get a round of those for the table.

“—one of those before?”

His voice is deep and pleasant. When you give him a look over your shoulder, you have to suppress a gasp. Up close he's even more handsome. You really have your work cut out for you.

“What?"

"That neon pink drink," he nods back in the direction of the girl who'd taken the cotton candy pink drinks with her. "I was wondering if you'd tried them before."

“No, I haven’t,” you smile, letting your lips part slowly. His eyes dart from your painted eyes to the colored stretch of your mouth and then quickly back up. “Have you?”

“No. But I like to try new things.”

You purse your lips as if in thought, something you've seen other girls do while flirting with guys at school. “You must be pretty unpredictable, then.”

“Huh? Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He stammers a bit and nearly drops his beer bottle trying and failing to put it down. All the intimidation you felt coming from him earlier seems to have disappeared.

“I was just kidding.”

Like it has a mind of its own, your hand reaches out to rest on his arm reassuringly while you continue to laugh at him. His features clear up then and a relieved smile blooms on his face, bringing out an adorable dimple with it.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes with a good natured huff and steps into your touch.

“You seem kinda fun to tease.” You let your hand linger a little longer before finally pulling it back.

“It’s kinda fun. You're pretty good at it.”

Oddly enough, this isn't as difficult for you as you thought it was going to be. In fact, you find yourself naturally tilting your head and fixing him with an intrigued look from under your lashes. He takes the opportunity to look you over as well, a small smile on his lips.

The personal attention does make you a little nervous despite the fact that it’s positive. So you dig in your purse to avoid looking directly at him for too long and to give your hands something to do. You brush up against a tube of lip gloss, pull it out, and reapply some to your lips.

You look back at him when you realize he’s grown quiet, only to find him following the movements of the gloss brush tracing the curve of your lips, cheeks dusted pink and eyes half-closed like he's in some sort of trance.

Experimentally you press your lips together and then purse them to make sure the gloss is distributed evenly. The man doesn't blink once. Suddenly, all his expensive apparel and large stature aren’t so intimidating.

"Is there something on my face," you smirk.

He slow blinks down at your mouth twice before realizing you're speaking again. His eyes grow wide and he raises a ringed hand to rub at the back of his neck. The movement rustles the hair covering his ears, revealing their pink tips. Cute.

"Just looking."

You laugh a little at him again. He marvels at the way the club lighting dances around in your glossy smile.

"So, how come I've never seen you here before?"

"Well...it's the first time me and my friends have come here."

"I see." He pivots to face you and leans his closest elbow on the counter of the bar. "Are you guys new to the area?"

"You could say that, yeah."

He raises an eyebrow when you don’t elaborate. Without looking away, he raises his hand to signal to the bartender that he wants another drink. When the bartender runs right over, you realize this guy actually might be a big deal. Silently you pull your card out of your wallet as the bartender makes their way over. You figure you’ll have to spend some money before you can really ask someone like him to buy drinks for your table.

"What'll it be,” the bartender asks.

"Two of those pink drinks please," he says and before you can place any order the bartender zooms away.

While the bartender starts preparing the drinks, you turn toward him.

"Who said I wanted the pink drink?"

He grins down at you, a dimple now popping up in each cheek. "Who said it's for you?"

"I'm pretty sure it's for me."

"And what makes you so sure?" He takes a step closer to you.

"Just a hunch," you hum before crossing your legs.

The white fabric of your skirt hikes up your thighs again with the movement. You smooth your palms over the soft material.

"Nice skirt."

"Yeah? You like it?"

"I like it," he admits quietly.

"And the top?" You gesture toward the pair of straps on the matching tube top, manicured nails gliding over your décolletage. He wets his lips.

"The top too."

He reaches out one large hand to one of the straps that have fallen over your shoulder. The drag of his fingers against your bare arm as he fixes it makes you shiver. You lament the loss of contact when pulls his hand back.

The bartender arrives with your drinks then, startling the both of you out of the little staring competition that had spontaneously started. The pink drink seems to glow from within, topped with whipped cream and full of little round ice cubes made from some sort of darker rose syrup floating in the liquid like lava in a lava lamp. The color barely prepares you for the thick sweetness that floods your mouth on the first sip.

"Oh, that's kinda..."

He huffs a laugh around his own first swallow and nods in agreement.

"Not what you wanted?"

"It's just really sweet. You like it?”

He shrugs. “It’s alright. But—"

The way he cuts himself off has you confused for a moment before he's reaching towards you cautiously. You're not too sure what's going on until you feel the pad of his thumb swipe over the corner of your lips carrying away some of the whipped topping from the drink. Your eyes widen when instead of wiping the cream on one of the cocktail napkins available on the counter he brings his thumb to his own lips. In a fraction of a second the cream is gone, but you're left feeling a rush of fluttering warmth on the side of your mouth and in the center of your chest.

"You think your friends would like these?” He slides his drink to the side so he can lean on his elbow and turn to you again. Now's your chance.

“Um, I don’t think this is really their style.”

“What is their style?”

You rattle off their drinks of choice, making sure to mention their favorite brands with a sigh. Of course, whenever you play this game, the brands can change depending on the budget of whoever’s buying. This time, you make sure to name drop as much as possible, per Alexa's request.

“Sounds like your friends really know what they like.”

“Yeah, they have really…unique tastes.” You falter a little under his amused stare. “But we don’t always drink that way. I mean, not every bar even carries all those to begin with.”

“That’s true.” He nods. “This bar has every single of them, though. Pretty lucky, huh?”

“Yep,” you chirp. You’re not sure if you’re in trouble or not because he’s still smiling. He seems to be onto the game, but doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Well, it would be a shame not to welcome you all to the city. Get whatever you want. My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

You place your hand on his arm again and squeeze for good measure. You don’t miss the way his large bicep flexes under your touch. After a beat, he brings his hand up to grasp yours and holds it while signaling to the bartender again. You give him a blindingly bright smile and he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.

He asks the bartender to ‘take care’ of your table tonight on him, and you realize then that you’ve won the game. The victory isn't nearly as sweet as the pink drinks from earlier. The rules prohibit you from bringing him home or going over to his place. And even if it wasn't prohibited, your vacation is basically over.

“Where are you and your friends from?

You take his hand between yours and play with some of the rings on his fingers. They’re beautiful together in an eclectic way and you wonder if someone chose them for him.

“It’s a kind of small city, not like this one. It’s really just our university and then a few surrounding towns.”

“What made you guys move here then?"

"Oh, Right." You feel guilty. "Me and my friends are just here for vacation."

He blinks at you but takes the news in stride. "Well, if you want—I know the city pretty well since I have a place here—maybe I can give you a tour of the town later this week."

"I'd love that, I really would. But we're actually leaving tomorrow."

"For real?” His eyes grow wide and he looks down at your linked hands before looking over your face. You're shocked to see his features fall.

"Yeah, it sucks."

“Damn,” he smiles bittersweet at the floor. “I wish we’d bumped into each other sooner.”

“I absolutely agree," the sound of Alexa's voice rings loud in your ear.

“Uh, hello. Did you need me for something?" Your voice is high and tight as you fix her with an accusatory stare. You're not 100% positive, but it seemed like you and he were having a moment.

"No, babe, I just wanted to come over and show you my beautiful drink. I wanted to come show my gratitude to you both for making sure we have a good last night. The girls will appreciate that. Thank you, kind sir."

“Name’s Namjoon. And no need to thank me,” he smiles at the exchange between you two and sticks out his hand. Alexa daintily lays her hand in his and he lets out an incredulous laugh before playing along and raising it to his lips.

"What a gentleman," she coos before pinching lightly at the skin of your exposed back. It's a clear message just for you, telling you that there's about to be a change in plans. "What were you guys discussing?"

"I was actually about to offer up our booth. There's more than enough room for your table if you wanted to move. Me and my team—friends definitely wouldn't mind the company."

“You don’t have to do that!” You pipe up, suddenly shy. But it's quickly dashed away as Alexa pulls out her phone and opens up the groupchat.

"Let me just ask our friends if they’d like that."

You already know the answer, so you sigh quietly and gather up your card, phone, and purse. You can’t say you won’t miss the privacy from when it was just you and Namjoon, but you’re glad to be with your friends again as well.

The move from your little table to the VIP booth is lightning fast. By the time you get your own drink, Lia and Dani are already clutching their things and vibrating with excitement near the ropes leading to the VIP booth. A few of Namjoon’s friends are chatting with them from the other side of the ropes.

Once your group trickles in, you don't miss how they all arrange themselves in the booth so you're forced to sit on the end next to Namjoon with barely any space. The only options are to let one of your legs hang off the edge of the booth the whole time or sit practically half in his lap. Alexa winks at you over the first sip of her next very expensive drink.

Namjoon's friends are occupied by your friends re-telling some of the more exciting parts of the beginning of your vacation. Some story about how 'someone' lost their top while trying to jet ski. You send a weak glare to Lia as she tries to get them to guess just whose top it was. That's what you get for experimenting with spaghetti strings, you suppose.

"Do you guys like to dance," one of his friends says after a while of vibing to the music once the chatter cools down. Hoseok, you think his name was.

"Yes, definitely." Dani remarks while re-applying lip gloss. "You know who's a great dancer?"

"Who?" Hoseok looks around excitedly.

"She's gonna say me," you groan. "Which is not even true but let’s just all move down there already, no more 20 questions."

"Just one more," she pouts. "Namjoon, do you like to dance?"

He looks down at you once he's also out the booth, that little amused smile back on his lips.

"Well, it's not really part of my day job, but I don't mind it too much."

"What's your day job," you blurt out.

"I'm a...musician."

"A musician!" Alexa rushes over to you to link arms. "Did you hear that? Namjoon’s a musician."

"I don't recognize you," Lia says and Hoseok and another one of his friends burst into quiet laughter behind her.

"You definitely won't find Joon’s pics anywhere, that's for sure," one of his friends says. The rest of them dissolve into another fit of giggles.

The club lights hide the muted pink tinge his cheeks take on, and Namjoon leads the way to the dance-floor with a chagrined roll of his eyes.

"You think he's really a musician?” You whisper to Alexa and Lia. Dani is somewhere up ahead, already dancing.

"Maybe technically. Going off the way his friends keep laughing, he's probably, like, a failed SoundCloud rapper or something."

"No failed SoundCloud rapper wears Gucci like that," Lia motions with her chin to some piece of Namjoon’s outfit.

"That's true," you hum.

"Rich parents," Alexa says simply.

You and Lia consider it and then nod.

As you settle on the dance floor, you feel the rest of your nerves drift away. Lia comes over to take a selfie with you, and the two of you flirt with the camera until she's satisfied with the photos you've taken. She grabs your hand and makes a show of spinning you around and you figure that this is how the night will go before you stumble out around 2 or 3am and drunk pack for the flight home the next morning. You let her lead you back, further into the crowd before you bump into someone.

Namjoon's large hand comes to stabilize you at your waist and Lia acts like nothing happened before dancing away, phone light illuminating her sneaky smile.

"You good?" Namjoon's voice is soft in your ear.

"Y-yeah."

"You wanna dance, or should I let you go?"

Your friends shamelessly all look at the way he curves himself around you, all with their thumbs up in encouragement. You're reminded of the way you did the same a few nights prior when Dani was getting hit on by some cute guy at a different club.

At that time it felt fun hyping her up and watching her make a move, seeing how enamored this random guy was with your friend. Of course he is, you thought at the time, she's amazing. And you remember that this is probably what's driving them tonight as well with you and Namjoon.

You chance a look at him and realize that he's come to rest his cheek lightly near your temple, a soft look in his gaze as he awaits your answer.

"Sure, let's dance."

Namjoon was telling the truth when he said he wasn't all that into dancing. But he put in enough work to be able to follow you and meet you halfway while you were grinding on him to the music.

Even when you shyly stepped away after the first few dances to return to your squealing friends, you loosened up over time with more music and drinks and found yourself naturally ending up on him again. The first few songs turned into more and more and soon you were face-to-face, with his thigh wedged between yours and a heavy palm on your lower back guiding you to the beat.

You're not sure when you decided to abandon your friends and his, but at some point you did return to the booth under the guise of checking your phones. And you did check your phone first. But soon he was crowding you toward the wall by the booth and leaving you with no air of your own.

"You're really leaving tomorrow," he sighed into a bruise he was trying to leave near the hollow of your throat. "Or did you just say that because I was some creep at a bar."

"I never thought you were a creep."

He looks down at you with disbelief before getting distracted by your kiss-swollen lips.

"I mean it. I'm just a little shy sometimes."

"What do you have to be shy about when you look like this, huh?"

"Stop," you laugh lightly and look away from him.

He'd made a comment earlier about how much he liked the pristine white two piece you wore, but you'd been inching his hand up your skirt then. Now, one of his thumbs rubs an idle pattern just below the curve of your breast.

"No, but seriously. Are you actually leaving tomorrow?"

"Yeah. The new term starts for us all in a few days."

"So, leave in a few days," Namjoon whines.

"That's not enough time to get ready for the term."

"But I'll be so alone without you."

He gives you an exaggerated pout that splits into a real smile when you snort at his stupid expression. He pulls you to him just a smidgen tighter then.

"Does this usually work with other girls?"

"I don't know. Never tried it with other girls," he frowns a little at you.

"Sure."

"You know me and the team almost went to Club BigHit last Saturday?"

"Oh, really? That's kinda funny." You try to imagine what might have happened if he'd come to the same club you went to earlier.

"Yeah," Namjoon's voice grows quiet. "If I hadn't gotten sick then we would have met last week."

"Yeah, maybe."

"You sure you can't miss a few days of the term?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You let out an exasperated laugh. "You can't really be this upset that an actual stranger is just passing through your life."

"No, I know. I just—," he lets his head fall forward until he's touching his forehead to yours. "It was like something clicked when I saw you. I feel like I need more time with you."

"Oh," your voice comes out a little breathier than you expected.

The same look that had flashed across his face when you first came up to him finally gets to rest on his features. You want to let him down gently because you really can't play catch up during the first week of school.

"Tell you what. I can't miss the beginning of the term but if you make a song with my name in it and it gets...say, 50,000 listens, I'll buy a ticket that same day and come meet you. Wherever you are."

He pins you with a look then, inquisitive and dark. His eyes scan your open expression for something, before whatever he finds passes the test. He stands up tall.

"And it just needs to have 50,000 listens?"

In your mind you were thinking it would be too lofty for a failed SoundCloud rapper, but something in his tone sounds like he's rising to the challenge and it makes you nervous. You spent a lot on this vacation, you can't afford to actually fly out so soon if he somehow managed to get the listens and call your bluff. Besides, targets are off limits.

"Um, actually make that 150,000. And it has to have my area code in it too." You rattle off the three digits to him and he quickly types your conditions into the notes app on his phone.

"Is that it?"

"That's it, I guess."

"Deal."

Namjoon pockets his phone and leans back into your space. Any worries you had clawing to the forefront of your mind vanish when he presses soft lips to yours once more.

A month passes.

You don't end up having a one-night-stand with Namjoon because it wouldn't be fair to your friends when they'd clicked with a target but didn't take them home. That and because Dani got sick on the dance floor from mixing strawberry daiquiri with one too many pink drinks. But you do pass on your full number after he very nearly begs you to give it to him while packing into a cab.

And then he never used it.

It's not that you were expecting much, but when a month passes with not so much as word from him, you figure he forgot about you and your little bet.

Then 2 months pass.

Even though you know that you only spent a fraction of a day with him, you can't help thinking about Namjoon. Namjoon and his pretty eyes and pretty words that made you think there was some sort of connection there. You realize after the first two weeks back that you don't have his number but by the time 2 months pass, you realize that was definitely on purpose.

4 months pass.

You're over it, swamped with end of term work like finals and grading and putting in hours at work. But every time your friends suggest a little fun and hooking you up with someone, every time someone asked for your number at a coffee shop, you said no. Because you're over it and you're busy and not at all disappointed for how hard you fell for the lies some failed SoundCloud rapper fed you on a vacation one time.

19 weeks pass.

You're all in Lia's apartment, basking in the first few days of the end of classes even if it means finals are a few days later. Alexa is playing her favorite playlist on the speakers and you're taking a break to get some coffee going in the small kitchenette.

While the coffee machine starts up you wander back to the main room. Alexa is leaning over to turn the music up, one of her favorite songs just now coming up.

"Who's this again," Dani pipes up from her spot on the couch. "It's that one guy's collab with the Bulletproof Girlscouts, right?"

"Yep," Alexa checks the song title before sighing. "This song is so old now."

"True, but it's my favorite one on the whole album."

"I guess it really has been two years since his last album, huh." Dani muses and then goes back to her practice problem set.

You try not to laugh at how cute Alexa looks sulking because her favorite artist hasn't put out any music in so long.

"Why don't you just play his new stuff," Lia says.

"He's on indefinite hiatus. This is as new as it gets."

Lia picks up her own phone, showing it to the group.

"He released a new single this morning."

"What!"

Alexa scrambles from her seat to grab her headphones and jam them into her phone. You all know how she gets about her music and let her have a moment to soak up the new song while you get up to check on the coffee.

It takes a few minutes to get cups out and put everything together since everyone has different tastes, so you're in the middle of pouring creamer when you hear a chorus of screams.

"Why are we screaming?"

You rush into the main room again only to be bombarded with music from the speaker, this time turned up as high as it can go. What must be the new song comes through the speaker, the bass vibrating on the ground as the speaker pumps.

"Okay, yes, new song. It's good but I don't get—"

"Just listen to the fucking bridge," Dani's voice comes out incredibly shrill as she cuts you off.

The beat surges for the bridge and suddenly the lyrics turn into the artist growling about some girl he met at the club with the prettiest little white outfit he'd ever seen. Saying something that sounds oddly like your name, although you figure that can't be right. But then the next verse has your name in it too, and the next one, and the next one.

Your feet take you to where Alexa's phone is plugged in and you pick up the phone to look at the song. It's indeed a song by her favorite artist, a prolific and mysterious rapper who's never shown his face and who'd been on hiatus from making music. The song title is simple, a small string of numbers that look suspiciously like your area code.

When you let out a tiny gasp, your friends let out more excited shrieks. You ignore them in favor of thumbing through the music app to the artist's page where the new single lies at the top of his discography. To the right of all his songs are the stream counts. Most of his older songs have a few dozen million or so. This brand new one sits at a modest 4 million, but the numbers trickle up as the app updates them in real time.

"What the hell?"

"I know!" Alexa cries, tears shining in her eyes. "I can't believe we sat in a VIP booth with him and I didn't even recognize his stupid voice!"

"What are you gonna do," Dani smiles widely at your stunned face. "Are you gonna call him?"

"I don't have his number," you say simply. Your voice comes out monotone with shock.

"You didn't get his number?" Alexa starts crying for real.

"People are blowing my phone up about this," Lia says once the song ends and begins again on a loop. "You might want to turn off your phone. It's just a matter of time until people start snooping around."

"Right."

You grab your phone from your pocket. On instinct you scan through your socials one last time before turning it off. There's a startling number of texts, calls, emails, and notifications on your social media apps. Curiosity gets the best of you and you open up one of them only to find your name trending as the top hashtag. Clicking on it brings up a bunch of tweets both from fans raving about the new song and wondering who the muse is, to random accounts with identical names in the handle all claiming to be said muse.

"Oh my god, he tweeted!" Dani shoves her phone into your hands.

As of right now [2:38pm] we're at 5.76 million streams. That's more than 150,000...

"What does that mean," she asks you.

"It means...he wants me to fly out to see him. Today."

"Oh my god."

Alexa screams again and at this point you've lost count of how many that is. Lia gets out of her chair and tucks her chin over your shoulder to read the post herself.

"You need to go," Alexa shouts. "I'll help you pack, let's go."

"What about finals?"

"Are you—are you actually thinking of not going because of finals?"

"I mean—"

"If you want me die, just say that," she does something with her mouth that looks like a manic smile.

"What Lex means to say is that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I'm sure even the profs would understand."

You're not sure what to say. First of all, you still don't have his number. Second of all, you're not sure how to fight through all the other accounts claiming to be you to let him know you saw the song. Third, you don't even know where to fly to. Fourth—

A Twitter notification chimes from your phone and a deadly hush falls over everyone. You go to your DM inbox with shaking fingers only to find a message request from an unknown sender. When you open the request, it's from Namjoon's agency.

Good afternoon,

You are being contacted today because one of our artists wishes to meet you. If you consent to the meeting, please review the flight information and tentative itinerary below and respond with your address and contact information. Please also note that the travel plans are for today [MM/DD/YYYY], so your response at your earliest convenience would be much appreciated. If you would like to go but cannot make it today—

"Do you think they'll send a car or should I book her a ride to the airport now?" Dani turns to Alexa.

"They'll probably send one to make sure the schedule is followed."

"That's true but what about—"

Lia taps you on the shoulder, startling you out of your stupor.

"There's a convenience store two doors down. Whatever you buy we can put in one of my suitcases and you can just take that. There's probably not enough time to go all the way back to your place."

"I—yeah, okay."

7 hours later finds Alexa, Dani and Lia finished with studying for the night. The entertainment channel is playing on the TV and the three of them have their heads bent over their phones and laptops, refreshing all the major gossip sites for updates.

"Maybe she's not even there yet," Dani sighs when the page she just refreshed shows no new posts.

"Yeah, I mean we still don't even know where she is," Lia says while putting her laptop to sleep. "What if they made her sign an NDA?"

"Even if they did, she'd probably still tell us once she got there. She's probably just busy killing time on the plane."

"She's sleeping!" Alexa screams a second later.

"Huh? How do you know that?"

"Check his instagram," is all she says before frantically typing a message to you about souvenirs.

Lia looks over at Dani's phone as she pulls up Namjoon's page. The rest of the layout is bare given his up until recent hiatus and the fact that he never posted any type of selfie. The video uploaded a mere 20 seconds ago undoes all the previous minimalism of the entire account.

The post isn't even of Namjoon. It's a black and white 5 second video of the top half of your naked back and shoulders, the rest of your body covered by the sheets. One of your arms is raised to cover your head with a pillow. The only sign of Namjoon is the arm that reaches out from the bottom of the frame, making it clear that he took the video himself. His hand reaches out to trace a heart over the skin of your shoulder blade. The caption reads:

Thanks for keeping your promise

[thepremedthatwrites]

hi so i've written this one shot where y/n was dating edmund and he takes her home for a study session and throughout the whole thing she and peter kept flirting, anyways she ended up staying the night in peter's room to be precise (i made it fluff). could you maybe write an alternate smut ending because peter is a naughty boi, i wrote this as if peter was 21 and she was 18 along side edmund, is this idea well written because i can't describe stuff sjdjskd

Our Dirty Little Secret

I have never felt so dirty after writing something lmao but I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy writing it.  I hope you like it! (also Edmund deserves the world so if you want to read some A+ Edmund imagines/smut I recommend checking out edmundpevensieisbaby on tumblr)

warning: smut below the cut

My fingers were interlocked with his as we walked down the street.  The unforgiving sun was beating down on us as we neared his house.  “This calculus exam is going to kill me,” I groaned.

“That’s why I’m here,” Edmund chuckled, squeezing my hand.  “I’ll teach you all that I know.”

“So we’re actually going to do work this time?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow and causing Edmund to laugh.

“I’ll try my hardest but that skirt you're wearing might make it hard for me to concentrate.”  I felt my face warm at his words.  The skirt I was wearing reached just the middle of my thigh, a bit shorter than I was used to but it was so hot out that I couldn’t help but wear as little clothing as possible.

“It is only Lucy at the house, right?  I don’t want to make a poor first impression with your other siblings.”  Ed and I had only been dating for a few months.  I didn’t want his family to already disapprove of me.

“Actually, Peter just got home from university.  He’s staying for the weekend.”

“You’re joking,” I groaned as we walked up to the front door.  The extra car in the driveway supported Edmund’s claim.  

“I’m home!” Edmund announced as we entered the house.  Lucy was sitting at the kitchen table, eating an apple while scrolling through her phone.  She glanced up, giving a smile and a wave before returning to her phone.  I heard the sound of footsteps approaching us from the hall to our right.  A tall man who seemed to be in his early twenties appeared.  I was taken aback by his attractiveness, his blond hair slightly messy as if he had just woken from a nap, his blue eyes still slightly clouded with sleep.  He ran his fingers through his hair as his eyes landed on me.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing home a guest,” the man said.

“Well I didn’t know I had to tell you,” Ed replied, releasing my hand to wrap his arm around my waist.  “Pete, this is my girlfriend (y/n).  (Y/n), this is my older brother Peter.”

“Nice to meet you,” I smiled, extending my hand for him to shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” Peter said, shaking my hand as his eyes traced my figure, lingering on my skirt for a moment before flickering back to my (e/c) eyes.  “Ed didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend.”

“We really only just started dating,” I said quickly, feeling my heart race as Peter’s eyes focused on me.  

“If you excuse us, (y/n) and I will be in my room studying,” Ed said as he started to guide me towards his bedroom.

“Are you guys actually going to be studying this time?” Lucy asked from the kitchen table causing me to start blushing.  While I had thought we had been quiet, Lucy’s comment suggested otherwise.  

“Haha very funny,” Edmund said, sticking his tongue out at his little sister.  

“Wow, very mature Ed,” she replied with, rolling her eyes and causing me to chuckle.

“Come on, stop your bickering.  I need you to help me pass this calc exam,” I said, pulling him towards his bedroom door.  I could feel Peter’s eyes watching me as I walked into Ed’s room.  I turned back towards Peter, my eyes catching his causing him to turn away as I closed the door.  My heart was still racing as the door replaced my vision of Peter.  No, this was wrong.  I was with Ed, not Peter.  But there was something about Peter that seemed to draw me towards him.

“You okay (y/n)?” Edmund asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Yeah, of course,” I lied, making my way to my boyfriend.  “Now, please for the love of God explain what an integral is,” I said as I pulled out my notebook from my backpack.

Ed and I had been studying for about an hour.  “Does that make sense?” Ed asked as he finished his explanation.

“I think so,” I said, slowly nodding my head.

“Good.  I think we should take a break,” he said while bringing his hand towards my thigh.

“What exactly were you thinking we should do during this break?” I questioned, my voice low as I started to lean in towards him.

“I have a few ideas,” he growled, his hand roughly squeezing my thigh causing me to gasp.  “And a few of them include taking off that pretty little skirt of yours.”  He closed the gap between us that I had already been slowly closing.  The kiss was rough, taking the breath out of me as his hands wandered my body.  Somewhere during the kiss, I moved so that I was straddling him.  I held his face in my hands as I parted my lips, allowing him entrance.  His hands squeezed my ass causing me to let out a small moan.  The sound of someone clearing their throat caused us to pull away quickly.  I looked up to see Peter in the frame of the now opened door.

“Dinner’s ready,” Peter stated through clenched teeth.  He seemed stiffer than before as he looked at the scene in front of him.  I slowly climbed off of Ed, my face now a light pink from a mixture of the make-out session and being caught.  I adjusted my skirt which caught the attention of Peter whose eyes flickered to it.  “Will you be joining us for dinner (y/n)?”

“Oh yes,” I replied quickly, hoping the new conversation would help ease the tension in the room.  Ed got up, walking to my side.

“She’s actually staying the night since I live much closer to school.  That way she can get to school early to study before her exam.”  Peter shifted his weight between his feet as he listened to his brother, occasionally glancing at me.  

“Alright,” he said before turning around and heading back to the kitchen.

“He isn’t mad, is he?” I asked quietly.

“No,” Ed shook his head.  “At least I don’t think so.  I’m not sure what his problem is.  Maybe he’s just stressed.”  He gave a shrug before grabbing my hand and leading me to the kitchen.

“Oh look!  The two lovebirds finally decided to grace us with their presence,” Lucy said as we walked into the kitchen.  Edmund’s parents chuckled at their daughter’s comment.

“You’re just on a streak today of making fun of me,” Edmund said, shaking his head.

“Isn’t that every day?” Peter questioned causing all of us to laugh.  Edmund sat down next to Lucy while I sat across from him next to Peter.

“How’s studying going?” Edmund’s father asked.

“It’s going good.  Edmund’s amazing at teaching math,” I said.  

“Well, it’s easy when the student is so amazing.”  I smiled at Edmund’s words.  His parents smiled as well while Lucy made fake gagging sounds.  This caused her parents to turn to her and ask her about her day.  I half-listened while shoveling food into my mouth, starving after a day of school which included no breaks for lunch.

“Hungry?” Peter questioned, chuckling at his own joke.

“Only a bit,” I replied with, cracking a smile.  “I haven’t eaten all day plus it doesn’t hurt that the food is absolutely delicious.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You cooked this?”  My eyes widened in surprise.  At first glance, you wouldn’t think of Peter as a cook.

“My specialty,” he said, a grin on his face.  

“(Y/n),” Edmund’s mother said causing me to turn to her.  “We set up the couch for you to sleep on but if it’s too uncomfortable, I’m sure Susan wouldn’t mind you borrowing her bedroom for the night.”

“The couch is fine,” I replied as everyone had started to clean up.  

“Great!  Edmund, would you clean up your girlfriend’s plate while I show her to the bathroom.”  Edmund nodded, grabbing my plate and walking towards the sink where Lucy was waiting.  I got up from my seat.  As I started to turn to follow Edmund’s mom, I couldn’t help but realize that my ass was level with Peter’s face who was still sitting next to my seat.  I straightened my skirt, trying to pull it down a bit lower to cover as much as possible so Peter didn’t see too much.  I could feel his eyes watch me as I walked away from my seat and towards the hall where the bathroom was.

I laid on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.  It was almost midnight now but I could barely sleep.  All I could think about was Peter.  “Snap out of it,” I mumbled to myself as I turned to my side.  I was with Edmund, not Peter.  But why did Peter make my heart flutter and my stomach do somersaults?  “This isn’t working,” I said, sitting upright.  I ran a hand through my (h/c) locks.  Maybe spending some time with Edmund would help me get my mind off of Peter. 

I slowly got off of the couch, tiptoeing my way towards Edmund’s door.  I paused as I heard what sounded like panting coming from another door.  “(Y/n),” I heard a voice gasp through the wooden door.  I inhaled sharply as I realized it was Peter’s voice.  I slowly opened the door to see Peter laying in bed, his hands wrapped around a very erect cock.  

“Peter?” I questioned, causing him to freeze.  He rushed to cover himself as he started to mumble something.  I felt my heart race as I closed the door behind me, the knot in my stomach becoming more intense with every step I took towards him.  “It’s okay,” I said softly as I crawled into his bed.  Peter let out something between a sigh and a growl as I felt his hands wander my body.

“Fuck (y/n),” he muttered as I allowed my hands to wander his body.  He was completely naked which allowed me to trace over his defined abs and warm skin without any barriers.  “You know, you look a lot more mature than eighteen.”

“Really,” I chuckled as my hands wrapped around his cock causing him to inhale deeply.  “You know, I was actually on my way to see your brother.  I couldn’t get my mind off of you, wondering what it would feel like to have your huge cock stretching out my tight little pussy.  I thought maybe Ed could take my mind off of it,”  I leaned in so that my mouth was right by his ear.  “But maybe acting out my fantasies would be the best way to get over them.”  I gently bit down on his earlobe causing him to let out a low moan.  I had started to slowly move my hand up and down his cock, watching with interest at how Peter reacted to my actions.

He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back on his pillow as I quickened my pace.  He let out a low moan, bucking his hips.  After a few minutes, his hand grabbed my wrist, stopping my hand.  “If you want me to fuck you, you’ll have to stop jerking me off before I cum,” he said.  Although he didn’t say it in any particular way, his words turned me on even more as I rubbed my legs together, wanting any kind of friction.  Peter sensed this as he pinned me to the mattress, his face only inches from mine.

His lips crashed with mine, his tongue ripping open my mouth and exploring it while his hands worked on removing my clothes.  We separated for a moment to take off my shirt before our lips were back together.  I helped take off my shorts and underwear, our kiss being broken up into smaller kisses with gasps of air in between.  He pulled away leaving me both breathless and dizzy.  I watched as he lined himself with me before pushing in.  I let out a loud moan causing him to cover my mouth with his hand.  “We don’t want Edmund to walk in on us now do we,” he said, raising an eyebrow.  I shook my head no.  “That’s a good girl,” he said before slowly rolling his hips.  

My back arched in pleasure, my hands gripping the sheets as Peter quickened the pace.  The bedsprings groaned underneath us as Peter slammed into me over and over again.  He fell onto his forearms, panting into my ear as he quickened his pace even more.  I dug my heels into him, pushing him even deeper.  “You’re so fucking tight,” he said in a half moan.  His lips found my neck causing me to gasp.  Peter sucked and bit down along my neck causing my hands to rake down his bare back, the pleasure becoming too much.

“Peter,” I gasped as he bit down on my neck one last time, almost surely leaving a hickey.  If my mind hadn’t been clouded with lust, I would have chastised him for leaving a love mark on my body, something Edmund was sure to notice.  Instead, it caused me to let out a low moan as my orgasm rippled through me.  My eyes were forced closed as my head flew back my body pressed against Peter’s as I held onto him for dear life.  The pleasure became almost unbearable as Peter quickened the pace, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and desperate as he chased his own orgasm.  

He let out a moan as I felt his warm seed spill into me.  “(Y/n),” he moaned as he thrusted into me sporadically as his orgasm started to slow down.  He slowly got off of me, falling to my side before turning to face me.  He pulled me in for a kiss that was much more gentle than the ones we had shared during our moment of passion.  I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as I was slowly lulled to sleep.  The one thing that I could think of as I was pulled into my dreams was that I had just fucked my boyfriend’s brother.

[enbeemagical]

For the past week and a half, I've been working on my first colored fanart; my first colored art in some time actually: a scene from @alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice's The Astronomer and The Mage (link is to the alternate, non-explicit version (c’mon, my little sister’ll be reading this; I’m not linking to the explicit one)).

It started as a quick stick-figure sketch, like most of my drawings do. On the left, Aaravos in the mirror, as seen by Lyra. On the right, Lyra in the mirror, as seen by Aaravos.

Then I got to work plotting it, which involved way too many careful straight lines and a ton of references to alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice's drawings of Lyra. Also, Google is probably confused as to why I needed a picture of Aaravos in the mirror specifically. It was quite unhelpful at first; apparently people mostly prefer to look at the star elf when he’s doing things, not when he’s just standing and looking in the mirror. 🙄

This is also when I realized I’d drawn the mirrors too small, or the people too big. I ended up deciding not to change it. Um, artistic license. Plus the bigger mirrors wouldn’t exactly fit on my paper, and I really didn’t want to re-draft the people smaller.

Finally, I could get to work on the actual people! Aaravos's hood was ridiculously hard, but not as hard as the dratted patterns! At least his cloak was pretty easy. (The hardest part was finding a good reference image. If you search ‘Aaravos hooded’ most of what you get is Aaravos decidedly not wearing his hood!)

Lyra wasn't too much easier there! Well, she was more difficult to figure out, but thankfully easier to draw once I figured out what I wanted. At one point I had her hand on the mirror, but ended up scrapping that because I can't draw foreshortening. Yet.

I also started doing the words. Since this scene goes with a few lines from Rewrite the Stars, I wanted to include those lines in the art. ....This may or may not have involved listening to Rewrite the Stars about seventy thousand times as I wrote/drew.

Aaravos tortured me here, because his starmark is RIDICULOUSLY hard to draw and I just could not get his smirk right! until I tried smirking and singing in the mirror anyway 

Lyra decided to be nice, though, so I had a great time sprinkling stars over her shirt, and adding a cute bow and a pretty golden chain in her hair. And eyelashes. Look, Aaravos is prettier than anyone else, but he doesn’t have long eyelashes. I felt bad for Lyra, a regular human dating a superhot elf, so I gave her extra thick lashes. Silly? Maybe. Fun? Yeah.

Oh, and the words! They weren't super easy to place, but they were still more cooperative than Aaravos! And I loved finding the right places and sizes to get the effect I wanted, make certain words stand out more.

And finally, coloring. I copied the sketch using my grandfather's printer (he asked to see what I was copying and I said NO (I am perfectly happy with my grandfather not knowing I drew the sparkle elf). Then I got out my pencils and immediately realized I did not know EXACTLY WHAT COLORS TO USE, what a TRAVESTY, oh my STARS (only poking fun at myself). So I prepared some swatches and sent them to alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice, they sent back the ones they wanted, and I got to work!

Coloring Lyra was so fun! I especially liked giving her cheeks an extra pink undertone (blushing 'cause of Aaravos, ofc!), and shading under her nose. I really like shading, even though it's super hard. And her hair! Such a gorgeous dark brown, though I didn’t get it right until I realized I could use black. *facepalm*

And then Aaravos. My gosh, it was hard to find the right combination for his skin! I still don't think it's quite right, but it's close enough. I guess. Strangely, gray under the purple and blue helped. 

His starmark didn't quite cooperate, and now he's got a second cloak, but eh. Close enough. (It felt so weird to color the 'whites' of his eyes black!) And I’m not convinced his hair looks right-- it feels like it’s either too starkly white or too lavender.

Gel pen for the little glints of light on their eyes, and for the stars and Lyra’s teeth, and I was almost done! Just the words and the mirror frames left.

Ooo, the words were fun to color! By this time my hand was hurting a bit, but whatever, who cares, I get to color the words! You may not be able to see it in the picture, but most of the words are black. The “I” and “you” in “I want you” are purple. In “you want me,” the “you” is blue, the “want” is dark red, and the “me” is purple. Down at the bottom, “hands” is purple over gold and “tied” is red over gold. Oh, and the little squiggly dash after “know”? That’s green. ;) Most of the colors relate to the rest of the color scheme, but that one was just because I wanted to put green in there.

And finished picture! Oof, this was a lot of work, but I can’t believe how ridiculously fun it was! And I’ve now got something to add to my portfolio, should I ever dare to include fanart.

(Reblogs are appreciated; reposts of any stage of this artwork are not allowed unless you are @alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice​/ @butterfly-in-progress​, as this is a gift for them.)

[one-spidey-boii]

BUMMER SUMMER || peter parker; ch. two

read chapter one here

masterlist

an; welcome back y’all. thank you to all who have read so far, even tho it’s only chapter two. i’d love to hear your feedback! enjoy!

**italics indicates flashback**

warnings; mentions of battle wounds (i.e. blood/scars/etc), future smut, mature language, fluff, angst, both peter and oc are 18+!!

word count; 2.2k+

edie's pov

so that's spiderman? seems like a fun guy, i think as i walk through the dark alleyways so i don’t draw unwanted attention to myself. it's late and i'm navigating my way home, still thinking about my run-in with the red and blue clad boy. it's easy to tell he's young by the sound of his voice, leading me to believe he’s twenty at most. that doesn't bother me of course, as i too am considered young for a crime-fighting vigilante.

i turn the last corner before reaching my street and sigh with relief at the sight of my apartment building. the light in my window is off, aiding in the illusion that i'm asleep so my mom doesn't come in while i'm away on my semi-nightly adventures. just before i can touch the brick stones of my building as i pass by, a mechanical swoosh comes down and picks me up off the ground. i let out a small yelp and quickly find myself placed on the roof.

"hey, wolfie." mr. stark says as he walks out of his iron man suit. i let out the breath i was holding and turn around to face him. i offer him a small smile and take my hood down.

"mr. stark, hello, sir."

"school's almost out, right?" before i can answer, he keeps talking, "good. i'm gonna need your help with something."

i wipe away the beads of sweat running down my forehead as i bend down to pick up my throwing knives from the concrete ground. i steady myself and focus on the tattered piece of cardboard nailed to the wall that is my makeshift target. with a small grunt, i fling one towards the center of the red dot, hitting it dead on. i continue this activity until i run out of things to throw and my arms feel like jelly. i lost count of how many times i'd hit the center of the target in a row.

stepping back with a satisfied smirk, i collect my knives, shoving them back into their rightful place in my bag or around my waist and turn on my heel to head home. i manage to take two steps before a voice stops me in my tracks.

"hey, don't walk away now, kid, the next one would have been fifty." my eyes widen at the familiar voice that often appears on my living room television. i slowly move to face the man and gulp, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, not being able to say a word.

"come on, one more. show me what you got." says tony stark, with a loose smile on his face.

without a word, i force my trembling hands to grab my favorite knife from my right boot and brace myself for a throw. my breathing is shaky as i raise my right arm and inhale along with it. i can feel the sweat running down my back as i close my eyes for a moment. don't embarrass yourself, e, i think to myself. with that i snap my eyes open and silently chuck the knife towards the target.

i missed.

"oh for fuck's sake." i groan into my hands before i remember who i'm with and freeze. i keep my head in my hands, making sure to cover my face, only gathering enough courage to peek at tony stark through my fingers.

"well, that's awkward, i won't lie," he says, looking uncomfortable, "but i think i saw what i needed to see beforehand. i'm tony stark, or iron man if you wanna get fancy." he reaches a hand out in my direction.

"edie wolfe, hi." i reply with a defeated and lame handshake. to save both of us from looming silence, he pulls at my hoodie before continuing on, "okay, ms. wolfe." he pauses to inspect my attire, "what is this? leggings? and a hoodie? kid, if you're gonna be throwing knives, you gotta expect people to throw them back at you. this isn't going to cut it." he motions to the thin fabric covering my arms and chest.

i laugh at his words, "oh hey i see what you did there."

not catching on to his own pun, he moves on again, "what? actually never mind, we have a lot of talking to do, wolfie."

ever since that night, he took me under his wing- and a week later i got a package with a brand new suit in it. one that would protect me a whole lot more than what i was working with before.

"earth to wolfie, beep beep boop," mr. stark says as he pokes me in the forehead. i swat his hand away and give him my full attention. he continues on, "so you're in? a summer at the compound, being scary and keeping bad guys away?"

i raise an eyebrow at him, "what makes you think my family will be okay with that?" i ask. mr. stark simply rolls his eyes, "i already talked to your father, need i show you the proof?" i shake my head and he nods with satisfaction.

"okay, kid. see you in a few days." he says, preparing to get back into his suit, but before he can fly away i stop him, a question looming over my head, "am i doing this alone?"

"of course not. i wouldn't leave you alon- well actually i can't leave him alone so that's why you're gonna be there," he explains with a shake of his head.

"and who exactly is this person?" i ask with my arms crossed.

"how about one friendly neighborhood spiderman!" he yells and takes off before i can say anything back.

-

finally, the last day of school was upon us. it seems that the ending of every school year is bittersweet, and to be honest it hasn't quite hit me yet. senior year was way lamer than everyone played it off to be. you're told that you're officially ‘top dog', but let's be real- no real credit is given until you've graduated. but hey, here's to making it this far.

i'm sitting at my usual lunch table, surrounded by peter, ned, and mj. we pass jokes around the group and take in every moment we have left of our time together, yanno, since peter is leaving. but so am i. which is something i still have to share with everyone.

"uh, hey, guys. can i be a debby downer for a moment?" i ask, clearing my throat and disturbing the light mood of the afternoon. the table quiets down and all eyes are on me. "so you know how peter is leaving this summer?" i ruffle peter's hair in an attempt to not make that statement so sad.

"yeah, edie, we know." mj says with an eye roll as she picks at her cold french fries. i roll my eyes back at her and mock her voice. i can't help but notice peter's guilty face sitting next to me, little does he know i am going to make it a whole lot more weird up in here.

i take in a big breath and hold it to up the anticipation, "well it looks like i'll be gone too."

ned drops his chicken wrap and shakes his head furiously, "nuh uh, nope. no way. sorry, e, i can't allow that to happen," he says with a stern voice. peter chooses this moment to negatively highlight my new confession, "edie, how dare you! someone needs to be here to look after the kids."

i lower my head in shame, god this was so hard to do. faking a playful smile, i try to make light of the situation, "hey, c'mon, we all know mj is the mom friend of the group."

mj shakes her head violently and protests against my statement, "absolutely not. i veto that with all of my being, ned is the mom." she insists as she points to the pouting boy. we all laugh at that before falling into an uncomfortable silence. i glance in peter's direction and try to smile at him. doing this to him was the hardest, i tell him everything and knowing full well that i can't tell anyone about my stay at the compound, it just hurts my heart. we won't be able to communicate all summer.

"my mom signed me up to be a camp counselor...at, uh, a self-defense camp." i panic at the last second, realizing i never thought about what kind of camp i would fictitiously be a part of. the whole table bursts out into laughter.

through short breaths and a hearty laugh, ned pokes fun at me, "edie? teaching children how to kick someone's ass? look at you, you're like a soft pillowy little marshmallow." i stick my tongue out at him and cross my arms.

"hey, i wouldn't shut down the idea too fast, remember e's dad is like, an actual fbi agent. i'm sure he's taught her some stuff," peter chimes in, coming to my rescue. i nod along and hum a 'mhm', snickering inside at how much they don't know.

-

once i'm home, i pack my suitcase with all the things i think one would need to stay at a high tech superhero compound. i grab all of my knives and shove them into a utility pack, along with my suit.

my parents know where i'm going, and lucky for me they’re okay with it. well, at least my dad is.

my father, sam wolfe, works for a hidden branch of the fbi that trains government spies and the occasional assassin. thus being the reason i grew to be so good at combat. he would take me onto the roof of our building and have me shoot at targets and hit punching bags. we would practice for hours at a time, his booming voice critiquing my every move and decision as i worked. i've never been comfortable with a gun, so i stuck with knives and made that my craft.

i haven't seen my dad in a few months now. to 'protect' me and my family, we weren't allowed to know where my dad was going or why he had to leave in the first place. once mr. stark came into my life, he and my father became close, putting his trust in mr. stark to watch out for me whenever he was gone.

my mother on the other hand, she hates everything about it. she’s afraid of the world and all the things that lurk behind closed doors. when dad isn't around, we aren't allowed to talk about anything related to knives or fighting or tony stark. and for my nine-year-old brother's sake, i oblige.

pulling my bag onto my shoulder and lugging my suitcase through the hall, i meet my mother and brother in the living room. she meets my eyes with her cloudy ones and closes the distance between us with a strong hug. i chuckle at her before wrapping my arms around her plump frame.

"mom, it's okay-" i start, before she cuts me off, "shhh, edie. let me have this moment."

i shut up and continue to embrace my mom. i know this is hard for her, but she needs to understand that this is an amazing opportunity for me. i'm being put in charge of the avengers compound for the entire summer. i wish i could share this excitement with my dad, but i know he's happy for me, wherever he may be.

"edie, promise me you'll come home if you can't handle it. no one is going to judge you for that. you're only eighteen. i can't believe your father is letting you do this." my mother rambles as she pulls away from me. i smile at her and just nod my head.

my little brother looks over in our direction with a shy smile on his face. i ruffle his hair and pull him to me for a quick hug, "take care of mom for me, booger." i whisper into his ear. he gives me a simple nod and backs away.

my phone buzzes in my pocket. i pull it out to see a message from mr. stark.

'beep beep, i'm here'

i sigh and look up at my mom one last time, "that's my ride." she lets a single tear stroll down her cheek before wiping it away and shooing me out the door.

once out of the apartment, i lug my suitcase down the three flights of stairs and out onto the sidewalk. mr. stark is pulled up to the curb in his fancy black car. he rolls down the passenger side window and yells at me through it, "time to party, wolfie."

i stroll to the car and pull the back door open to throw my stuff down. then i hop into the front seat and look at mr. stark, "you know, you could have come in."

"yeah, well we all know your mother doesn't like me very much. i don't wanna poke the bear," he says as he pulls his sunglasses over his eyes and revs the engine, "let's get you to your new home for the next three months, shall we?"

|| taglist; @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines

[ready8210]

„Let me in your heart again“

2. California calling

Vivian

Munich / Germany - Vivian's Hotel room

It's a shame you have to spend the whole day in a boring plane. I let my eyes wander out of the window, taking in the breathtaking bright blue morning sky, one last time.

It was a nice breathy summer day and I was standing in my hotel room in Munich, had grabbed my packed bags and was ready to go for our "two - year - adventure".

It took me some days to realize, what happened and that I would spend the next years with one of the biggest rock bands in history. Me, little clumsy, timid Vivian.

Unfortunately it didn't take me that long, to realize, my hero, the man himself, Mr Freddie Mercury, literally HATES ME.

Yes he hates me, for sure.

And I have to admit, I shad a view tears, as my fantasizing about what could have been, between the two of us, went overboard and got the best of me.

NO, you can't just really believe that. Of course I didn't cry!! I'm on a MISSION now....giving him the hardest time ever!!!!

I may be a tad to upbeat here. I'm afraid things will evolve in another direction.

* * * *

Munich / Germany - Airport

I took a taxi, earlier today, to get all my bags full of camera equipment and belongings to the airport. Two suitcases for all of my cameras, lenses and all the other stuff, that comes along with being a photographer, plus two, for all my clothes and personal stuff. I'm hopeless when it comes to packing, so I always end up with way to much to carry around.

Finally there, we had some hours to spare and I was killing time, strolling around the multiple shops with my new „friend" Roger Taylor, incessantly asking me about my life and flirting like a manic.

He really can be annoyingly persistent.

I ended up telling him I'm married, having high hopes he would draw his attention to somebody else. Big mistake, I tell you. It encouraged him even more. I finally found some alone time, which was much needed, cause for whatever reason, I didn't feel very sociable today, as Brian and John forcefully tug him away from me, to discuss "something" with the band.

Looking after them, strolling away and making their way to the other end of the hall, I rummage around my bag, to put out my cellphone and headphones and make myself comfortable, while waiting for boarding to begin. I have to smile, as I hear the first tones of „under pressure" resounding in my ear. „How fitting" I giggle, while laying back my head, with closed eyes and sealing myself off from the outside world.

„Boarding for business class passengers will begin in 5 minutes", I hear a tinny voice informing the waiting crowd, as I still lay back in my seat, waiting to head to sunny California. My head is killing me at the moment, many sleepless nights and pervasive anxiety attack's, for the last view days, didn't make it better. And to make matters worse, there's no chance, not even a spark of relaxation, for the next two years. Even less, when you have to deal with a hate - filled Rock God.

Convinced to fly economy today, as Mr. Beach had acknowledged me, a view days ago, I look at my ticket for the first time, since I received it, recognizing, much to my surprise and liking, I am booked for business class.

„Let's go" I mutter noiseless „Let the hell ride begin", putting my way to heavy bag over my shoulder and enthusiastically bouncing up. This new circumstances really lighten up my gloomy mood.

As I make my way to the end of the line of waiting people, I can see Freddie hectically gesturing in my direction and scoffing something to Paul, while shaking his head contemptible, to then shoot me a death glare.

Paul Prenter to be precise. He's one of Freddie's PA's and the both of them are literally inseparable. Sticking together like Siamese twins the whole time. Somehow I feel sorry for Freddie, spending his time with a sneaky, calculating, little rat, always controlling his every move and telling him what to do. I may be prepossessed against Paul, but that's the impression I got so far. Earlier today, Roger did his best, to convince me of Peters malice. And one look at him is enough to know, Roger is right.

Besides that, I already was able to see for myself, when I was invited to the studio again and we all went out for dinner, a view days ago. The day was packed with teasing, despicable glances and subtle insults coming from Paul. After I was invited, I hoped for a more ‚friendly' meeting with Freddie, but he unfortunately took Paul as an example and did his best to make life hard for me.

Someone is not too happy with the fact I will join them business class, I tell myself, as I look at Freddie. I put on a big satisfied smile and look in his direction, while nodding brazenly. His expression changes to pure fury, you literally can see smoke whooshing out of his ears, before he relaxes his hands, which were painfully clenched into fists, showing every vein on his skin, and grabs his bag to quickly walk towards me, with narrowed lips and madness in his eyes. For a second I'm pretty sure he will stab me right there.

I shirk from his look, as a subtle hint of timidity overcomes me and make my way to the counter, as I realize, I'm next in line. A woman behind it checks my passport and ticket with a bored expressing, putting on a exaggerated smile, while handing me my documents back.

„Have a nice and enjoyable flight Ms", I hear her fading voice, already making my way to the plane, through the boarding bridge.

„Your seat Ms Kurzmann", I be led to my place, by a warmly smiling flight attendant. „If you need something, just let me know. Enjoy your flight."

Stowing away my luggage and seating myself, I take in the surroundings. This will be my best flight ever, I smile in satisfaction.

It will not! You'll see.

„Ms Kurzmann?", a friendly man, with a nice British accent appears besides me, seating himself, reaching out his hand to me.

„Yes, Vivian Kurzmann?!" I say half asking, looking astonished, and puzzled at him, as I hesitantly reach out my hand to greet him. I have to stand up to do so. Social interaction is not that easy, when flying business class.

„So You're the photographer the band is all exited about?" he babbles out, putting on a toothy grin, one that indeed shows all of his teeth. He has a really warm and friendly smile, one that immediately makes you feel happy.

„Oh excuse me. How rude of me. I'm Peter Freestone, or Phoebe for almost everybody." he introduces himself, while still giving me a firm handshake.

„Oh, I'm pretty sure not ‚everybody' is pleased with this arrangement." I mumble suggestively, looking at my hands, with Freddie, my new BFF, in mind.

„Phoebe?" I wonder, as we end our handshake. As I realize the word left my mouth, I slowly shake my head, fixing his eyes again and continue „isn't that a woman's name?"

„I suppose it's Freddie you're talking about? Oh I assume you caught him in one of his „good moods" he quips. Realizing my perplexed expression, he continues

„I should explain that. I'm Freddie's PA and he gives all of his close friends new names. Female ones for male and vice versa. Mine is Phoebe." he blinks at me.

„Well then, nice to meet you sir." I respond politely.

„Please call me Phoebe." he requests, as he still tries to make himself comfortable, searching for something in his bag.

„Gladly. I'm Viv." I tell him, leaning back in my seat, letting out a pleased sigh and marveling at what my seat and his surroundings have to offer.

Phoebe starts giggling and mutters:

„I don't think so..."

I turn my attention back towards him with a baffled mien. I already know this flight will be an ‚interesting' one.

„And whats that suppose to mean?" I begin to dig deeper, looking at him, my eyes widening in curiosity.

„Freddie already has chosen your new name." his lips turn into a fiendish smile, as he glances up from his bag and puts out a more then worn out book.

„No way. He literally hates me. I really wouldn't call me a friend of him. Not even close. We're more like Kain and Abel, David and Goliath or Napoleon and Kutuzov. You'll see when we arrive in LA." I put him off.

Phoebe lets out a loud lough „I'm telling you. YOU already have your name set." he assures me, nodding confirmingly.

„Enlighten me please." I request him, feeling curiosity grow in me.

„Brody." he shrugs , without any expression on his face.

„Brody? He couldn't come up with something better?" I ask blankly, still wondering how he came up with this name especially with such a boring one.

„You may ask him yourself." a broadly grinning Phoebe encourages me.

A queasy feeling spreads out, as is realize, I have to handle him for the next two years. And looking back on our two ‚dates', this won't be peaceful two years.

Unfortunately, my naive dream of a happy cure world unexpectedly came to an end last week, on this history - charged Friday and bursted like a soap bubble.

I shake my head in refuse at his words „I don't want to be eaten alive."

„This will be interesting two years." he winks amused.

In a steadily, serious voice I say „Don't get to exited. I may be dead and gone by the end of this day." Letting my head fall on my shoulder and my tongue hanging out of my mouth.

„The boys were right, you are adorable." he snickers.

Immediately turning red on his last remark, I coyly look into my lap.

„Young lady, I have to leave you for a short while. I'll be right back." Phoebe breaks the short silence, standing up from his seat and turning his back to me.

„I'll do my best to keep the evil away and stay alive. See you later." I exclaim, forming a cheeky smile.

As Phoebe strolls away, I grab my phone to ask google about my new dubious name.

‚Dirt' and ‚mud' I read speechless, with widened eyes after some minutes of research.

Staring at my phone with rising rage, I loudly blurt out „THAT SON OF A BITCH.", as Freddie and his partner in crime arrive at their seats. Both looking at me with a mixture of astonishment and aversion.

Freddie?.....here? In business class? The fact he's not flying first class today, for whatever reason, explains the tense atmosphere, now laying over the cabin like a big black cloud.

„Speaking of the devil" I address Freddie, playfully smiling, nodding teasingly at him again.

Something tells me, he wouldn't have expected me to speak to him like this, as his expression changes to a soft puzzled look and every muscle in his face relaxes. Still staring at me and looking me straight in the eyes, I move up my hand to wave at him, shooting him a challenging look. He looks down quickly, as phoebe comes back and passes by. With a long loud sigh Freddie falls into his seat, chatting and snickering with Paul.

Two can play this game Mr Mercury. I move to face my phone again, while shaking my head, still smiling over my little triumph. If he thinks he can intimidate me, than he's on the wrong track.

I really don't know what's coming over me today. It's not my typical introvert behavior, that usually would cause me to turn red like a tomato and go on the run. But I might get used to it.

„Im glad you survived", a winded phoebe collapses into his seat.

„Mephistopheles and his companion decided to leave me alone.

NEVER underestimate a woman and her superpowers" I giggle in response. Phoebe, for whatever reason unable to speak, tries to suppress his laughter.

„Did you take part in a marathon?" I ask in amusement, watching his rapid breathing. „I'm afraid you may need medical assistance."

Phoebe gasps and laughs at my words, which isn't of advantage for his current physical state.

„I'm pretty sure it's you, being dead and gone by tonight, not me." I quip, before giving the pour man his much needed rest.

Taking notice of all the laughter, Freddie turns to face us, jealousy and annoyance washing over his face, looking back and forth between Phoebe and me.

Deciding to ignore him this time - i really don't want to overreach things - I relax in my seat, putting my headphones out of my pocket.

„I Never would" phoebe finally finds his breath again.

"Would what?" I ask startled.

„Underestimate you and your superpowers." he winks, before grabbing his book again and browsing through it.

Noticing Freddie standing there again and staring at us, he whispers „He's a good guy, he's just very serious about his privacy and cautious when it comes to new people coming into his life", while slightly nodding his head in Freddie's direction. „You both will get along well."

„I hope so" I whisper calmly, facing Freddie.

As our eyes meet he holds my gaze for a view seconds, looking at me, as if he is in some kind of trance, before quickly turning his head back in embarrassment - at least it looked like that, as his cheeks started to glow in various red tones.

* * * *

With plugged in headphones I shuffle through my phone, with shaking hands, trying to find the kind of music, that will keep me calm for the tricky part of this flight.

I really enjoy flying, but takeoffs and landings scare the shit out of me. Most of the times everything goes off well, but when anxiety comes over me, I tend to go completely nuts. And this is no understatement.

Feeling a hand on my knee, I look up in surprise.

„You're ok?" a soft voice interrupts my growing panic. „Your hands are shaking like leaves." A concerned phoebe looks at me.

„I will be fine as soon as this bird will be up in the sky" is say assuringly, pointing upwards.

„Fear of flying?" he asks with worry in his voice.

„Not flying per se, just getting up there and down again. Don't worry, I will be fine." I smile at him affirmative.

„What are you listening to?" Phoebe tries his best to distract me.

„Canzonetta Sull'aria" by Mozart. It always helps with my anxieties." And let me tell you I have a lot. I simply reply with a hint of embarrassment in my voice.

„Oh, so you're into classical music?" an enthusiastic Phoebe babbles, with sparkling eyes and a way to big smile on his face. He seems to be as excited as a little boy in a candy store.

„I grew up with it, my grandma would never listen to anything else. I never could understand why, as a young kid. But here we are, over 20 years later....I really enjoy it these days." I tell him while melancholy comes over me.

Phoebe, recognizing my growing nostalgia, warmly smiles at me „I love classical music. I would love to show you my collection one day. I'm sure you'll find some stuff you like. Maybe I can show you something new."

Giving him a sincere smile I nod warmly: „That would be lovely."

„We just have to smuggle you past Mephistopheles." Phoebe giggles while looking in Freddie's direction, his mouse turning Into a mischievous grin.

„Uh?" Unable To disguise my lack of knowledge. „Why is that?" I go on as Phoebe didn't answer.

„I live at Garden Lodge. I'm his PA, so I get paid to always be around. It works best like this." he explains in his soft, calming voice.

„My sincere condolences." I reply ironically. „Living with Mephistopheles must be tricky." I add playfully.

Phoebe shakes his head giggling "You have no idea."

„Please never tell him, I called him that....uhm Mephistopheles I mean." I urge him, as I let my gaze wander to Freddie, who's sitting there, his thoughtful eyes fixed on a pad laying on his lap, while fiddling with a pen.

"My lips are sealed darling." he pats my shoulder, smiling kindly at me.

As I let my gaze wander over Freddie, peacefully sitting there, I surmise sadness in his whole appearance, he's always surrounded by people, most of the time by Paul Prenter, but in his eyes you can still see pure sadness and loneliness. I know this feeling too well.  But that's another story to tell.

After a short while, I look back to my phone, to stop my thoughts and try to prepare for the upcoming departure. Unaware what awaits me on this flight.

My omnipresent panic increases to another level, as it abruptly turns dark outside and the sky is fully covered with thick pitch black thundery clouds.

We were told to be ready for takeoff, as a voice rings out of the speakers: „The flight is delayed due to bad weather. Please remain seated and keep your seatbelt fastened. We're ready for takeoff shortly."

„Ready for takeoff?" I yell hysterically. „They must be fuc*** kidding. They cannot possibly....FU**!" I exclaim much louder as intended.

Phoebe looks at me terrified, based on my unfortunate choice of words and screaming, not able to hold back his laughter.

„You're laughing?" I snap in frustration.

Phoebe puts on a sympathetic face, while trying to calm me.

„Relax Darling. It'll all be over in a view minutes and you'll enjoy the flight." he soothes me.

„Exactly, everything will be over, that's exactly the point." I object.

Freddie, now noticing my panicky splutter, shakes his head, frantically repressing his laughter.

Shooting him a destroying death stare, I cling to my armrests.

As lightening and thunder set in and a heavy rain falls down, I tremulously look outside, the tip of my nose pressed against the little window.

Turning back, I cup my face with my hands, stammering: "We're going to die. Oh god, we're going to die. Please someone get me out of here." Moving my body back and forth repeatedly.

Phoebe now puts his hand on my shoulder - at least he tries to, with this good distance between our seats - and whispers at me. "Look at me."

Hesitantly putting my hands on my thighs, I look into his calm eyes, as tears roll down my cheeks.

Ok Vivian, how embarrassing can it get? You're such a drama queen.

"Take a deep breath, everything will be alright. Keep breathing, calm down." He whispers, his hand still resting on my shoulder.

I thought I was calmly breathing, for everybody involved, it must've looked like the strained panting of a delivering woman.

The captain informs us, we are next in line and will takeoff shortly, as the rain decreases and the last thunder fades.

At this point I completely lose it: „Oh God, we're taking off, you said everything will be fine." I hiss at Phoebe.

„I will die in this fuc*** plane and Mephisto right there will bring me straight to hell." I gasp way to loud. Again!!

I scroll through my phone like a maniac, as a perplexed Phoebe asks „What are you doing?"

„Searching for music....if I have to bite the dust, it won't happen to the sounds of fuc*** Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart." I mumble frustrated.

I felt the plain moving faster and faster as I shuffled through my phone, not exactly knowing, what I was searching for.

I close my eyes, lay my head back and cling to my armrests even tighter. „Please don't crash, please don't crash, please don't crash...!" I wind the words like a mantra.

The moment the airplain gets off, is the worst. „Oh god, oh god, oh god,..." I gush out, til I notice the plane gains altitude and is now in the air.

„You see darling, nothing happened." Phoebe smiles at me, as I open my eyes again.

Much to my surprise everything went off without any turbulences.

„Nothing happend..." I whisper disbelievingly, scanning every part of the cabin.

„Am I dead?" I ask Phoebe in all seriousness, still taking in the surroundings and looking my body up and down.

Phoebe bursts out laughing and shakes his head.

Surprised by his reaction, I look over to Freddie, who is sitting there alone, turned around to face us, his hand pressed against his mouth, giggling uncontrollably.

As my expression hardens, I face Phoebe again. „If we're dead, we went straight to hell. Mephistopheles is still here." I gesture in Freddie's direction, rolling my eyes in annoyance.

Phoebe just giggles and draws his attention back to the book he is holding.

"Darling, you made my day. I hope you're ok? That was an overly impressive performance." I hear a posh British voice chuckle next to me, as I look out of the window.

I turn around and look up, straight into Mephi....Freddie's deep, brown eyes.

For the first time, the sadness is gone. I look into the two most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. Eyes filled with honesty and warmth.

As I feel embarrassment grow, I try to avoid his gaze and look down into my lap, where my still shaking, cold hands are laying. "I hope you enjoyed the show." I stammer scarcely audible, to then face him again, and smiling sheepishly at him. It takes me all my remaining strength to do so.

"It distracted me from my own anxiety. From now on you will do this on every flight." He giggles and taps my shoulder, before strolling back to his seat.

Looking after him, like some love struck teenager, trying to grasp what just happened, Phoebe snaps me out of my thoughts.

"As I said, you'll get along well." He says convinced, not looking up, while reading.

"I really hope so" I mumble, my eyes fixed on Freddie's back, as i feel some hope flaming up in me again.

Part 3 will follow soon...

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