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heavndoll · 7 months

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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒.

pairings — fem!reader and rafe cameron.

summary — after rafe takes your life, he tries to move on, and simply pretends he’s the one who didn’t do so. eventually, hauntings and truths will lay themselves out to remind rafe just how sickening he is.

warning tags — adult language. details of gruesome m*rder & m*rder itself. mentions of DV relationship, (brief) child ab*se & awful parents. talks of religion and god. reader’s pov from heaven (?? just stick w the program). rafe actually going more insane than usual. overall dark content.

author’s note — this is based on and inspired by ethel cain’s song ‘strangers’ and while this song has multiple interpretations to go by, i’m taking mine by the main and common one (just without the c*nnibalism!). this also gets super dark and depressing so if you cannot bear any of it, please click off! this also isn’t revised at all so my apologies for grammar mistakes.

likes, shares & reblogs are very much appreciated ⋆୨୧ ₊ﾟ

you had tears in your eyes, body shaking to point you thought you’d convulse. you tried to be obedient by keeping in rafe’s secret of what he had done on that tarmac. he beat you to make sure you kept your mouth shut for good.

he said, “i’ll kill you if you say one word,” and it took enough fear to believe him, but you didn’t think that day would come.

murder is an evil thing, and everyone can attest to it. rafe murdered sheriff peterkin as if she was nothing, as if she was a problem in the way. bad enough, he let john b. routledge — one of your best friends — take the fall for it.

you continued to keep your mouth shut, but after rafe tried to invade the police, ward killing himself, you didn’t see a reason to keep quiet. ward was the only reason why rafe could stay out of prison, and now that he wasn’t around, you could speak.

your father preached every sunday to live by righteousness and good, to never let evil win.

rafe was that evil. he was the devil himself.

the devil that you danced with, let make love to you, kiss you, but also beat you until stars twinkled in your vision, and your breath kept getting caught in your throat.

your mother would be horrified to know that, your father too. but it was their fault in a way that you accepted this cruelty as love; your father, especially to blame.

if love is not meant to be hit at you, does it even exist? your father showed you that when he’d slap or punch you for falling out of line, but go to church the next day, and preach about being a good servant to god.

you wanted all evil out of your life. it was suffocating, it was drowning you.

rafe had to be eliminated first.

“you killed peterkin, and i’m tired of knowing it,” you said, picking up your car keys. “we are done, and i won’t even show up to your trial when you go down for it.”

rafe just stared at you appalled and puzzled, sitting on the edge of his bed. you were close to being far out enough to your car until strong, violent hand seized you.

you screamed and kicked, not being new to this routine, only knowing that he was going to harm you.

you could never predict that his violence would lead him to murdering you.

“let me go, rafe!” you screamed, being pulled inside, your pleas and cries echoing in the empty home.

expecting to be physically berated, you were being led downwards.

to the wine cellar basement.

and for once in a while, you prayed to god, and hoped he would finally listen to you this time. that he would save his child, and perform a miracle.

but a miracle never came as rafe manhandled you, pinning you down on the cement ground of the basement.

“shut the fuck up! stop crying!” he yelled, a solid punch coming to your cheek, and you yelped, an easy gush of blood rushing out of your mouth. “you’re a fuckin’ backstabber. after everything i’ve done for you, gonna treat me like that?”

you cried, shaking your head. “r—rafe, please! i’ll be good, i’ll stop!”

“don’t trust you, little one. can’t let you ruin everything,” rafe said, reaching for something out of his back pocket.

the more you fought back, the more angry he got; the more you fueled the fire that rested in his hands and body.

before you could let out another plead, a sharp pain was made into your abdomen.

rafe stabbed you — and he wasn’t planning on stopping there.

god wasn’t there. you would show up to his gates in this condition, and ask him why he let it happen. if god is real, why did he bear witness instead of saving you?

rafe doesn’t recall killing you.

he remembers grabbing, and dragging you down into wine cellar basement, but couldn’t be able to tell anyone what happened after that. all he knows your blood was quite literally on his hand, knife shaking in his grip.

your babydoll white dress was now stained with violence and scarlet red blood.

the sight should’ve made him sick, but it didn’t. he just stared at you, breathing heavy, and it didn’t strike him until a while later that he had killed you.

rafe cameron had killed the love of his life.

he only panicked when it came to how to dispose your body, take off any evidence that could trace back to him. he was more than willing to dump your body in the woods, let any gators eat at you for supper.

he tossed your body only hours later in the depths of the woods, and it didn’t take long until you were reported missing.

of course, he was questioned first. it was easy for him to play the concerned boyfriend, crying because he also hadn’t heard from you, saying he had been texting and calling you for hours.

your parents sobbed on the news and asking anyone to come forward with any information, that they’ll give up however much money for their child to come home.

rafe just stared numbly at the television screen, a cup of scotch in his hand.

your best friends, the pogues, sobbed for days, and even started a search party for you. rafe made sure to dig you levels down in those woods when the ground was wet enough to dig up, and cover you up.

sarah cameron had a feeling her brother had something to do with your ‘disappearance’ but it was only just a gut intuition, she couldn’t prove it. she always questioned why you got with her brother, always emphasizing how horrible and violent he was, but you would tell her, “you don’t know him like i do; you don’t know how much he loves me, and takes care of me.”

kiara knew how bad rafe was — for god sake, she momentarily went to the academy around the same time he was a senior. she knew he wasn’t destined to be a boyfriend, let alone even in a fucking relationship.

the boys of the group were beyond furious, the three wanting to round up and take ahold of rafe, beat some information out of him. but they knew you wouldn’t want that, and that rafe would easily get the police to arrest them.

however, months passed, and you slowly became a memory to not only the town, but to rafe himself. he went on with his days like nothing occurred, that he didn’t violently take the life of his girlfriend.

you weren’t on his mind anymore, and he didn’t have to worry about you anymore.

or so he thought.

karma and revenge go hand in hand together; they mingle and burst out, they make sure they arrive at the doorstep of the people who deserve it.

rafe always thought getting rid of you would avoid his downfall, but the murder of you was just the beginning of it all.

he slept peacefully like he had done for a while now, with him about to drown into a deep sleep. he rested with his hands laid atop of his stomach, comfortable and at solitude, a female whisper woke him up.

he peeked around, but saw no one. he assumed he was just sleep deprived and imagining things, his eyes closing again for sleep.

“do you feel sick yet?” the voice that sounded like yours came through, more clearer and visible. he shot up, and turned on his bedside lamp.

nothing. no one. not you.

why would he have to feel sick? you were gone, you were no longer a problem.

rafe shook it off, and was able to go back to sleep.

you were angry in the afterlife. you stared at rafe from heaven, trembling with rage and regret. a man you once loved, had acted as if you never existed. you adored him, and he disposed you like garbage.

you just wanted to be his, wanted him to tell you that you were his only; that he loved you as much as you did to him, that he would change and better himself for you.

that the violence would dissipate, and his rough hands would be nurtured with love and softness.

but no. that never came, and never would.

you were taunted by your murder, burning with the need to remind rafe of how sick he was.

your violent lover let you bleed before him, and without tending to your wounds or simply sitting with immediate regret, he soaked in his actions and dismissed it.

why couldn’t he be gentle? was him painting you blue and purple not enough? did he have to go as far as killing his lover to satisfy the disdain and vexation he held for you?

was that enough? was that enough to make you enough?

rafe’s nights slowly turned interrupted and sleepless. your voice was always there, and time to time, he thought he saw you standing in his bedroom, drenched in blood and with tears streaming down your face as you kept asking him, “do you feel sick yet?”

sick. not regretful. fucking sick.

sleep deprivation was catching up to him, making him more mean and angry than usual, more out of control.

the coke wasn’t even helping either, only making everything worse.

he was at barry’s trailer, snorting endless lines of the white powder, trying to shake off the sight of you from last night.

“country club, you good?” barry asked, and rafe didn’t respond. “you don’t seem well, bro.”

“just need this shit, okay?” rafe mumbled, separating another drop of cocaine. “just… just want to sleep, need it.”

barry didn’t want to push him with more questions, minding his own business as the blond haired boy snorted up excessive amounts of lines.

rafe ended falling asleep on his couch, barry mindlessly scrolling on his own phone as he laid down on his bed.

the cold air from the air conditioner ran around in the basement, making it more freezing and chilling than usual.

rafe could smell strawberry perfume, indicating you were around. he looked around, and saw nothing of you.

“where are you!” he screamed. “you can’t scare me, you bitch!”

“i’m not here to scare you,” you talked, rafe spinning around to find you perched in the corner of the basement. you careened closer, the dim light emphasizing on your mangled body.

rafe stared at your stomach, where immense stab wounds laid on it. he swallowed thickly, his breath shaking and jagged.

“do you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe looked up at you. he couldn’t move in this dream, he was paralyzed and a witness to your lacerated body.

nausea and despair washed over rafe, almost consuming him entirely.

you were finally face to face with him, your hair disheveled and bunched, face stained with tears and runny makeup, all for him to look at.

rafe could feel your physical touch, your soft hand grabbing his, and made his palm touch your abdomen. he almost fucking threw up.

you could see it, you could see he was wanting to vomit everywhere. “am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe shivered, forcing his hand to put more pressure on your stomach, blood rushing out onto it. “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe screamed and lurched up, his eyes opening and alarming barry. “woah, what the fuck, rafe!” barry shouted, and rafe breathed rapidly, his heart thumping against his chest, a need to vomit.

rafe brought his face into his hands, trying to shake everything out of his hand.

your face, your touch, your blood — he felt it all. he was being reminded of you, when he didn’t want to.

barry kept asking him what was wrong, why he was crying, if he was okay, but all rafe could focus on was your voice asking, “am i making you feel sick?”

he was no longer immune to his destruction. he was becoming infected by it. you were a disease that he couldn’t treat, a parasite that ate at his brain.

he would never get rid of you — and you would make sure that he never did.

it was month seven without you, and you became a faded name to the outer banks. the only people who lived on to tell your name was your parents, and your best friends. the pogues carved your name into the chateau’s tree, a ceremonial bench placed at the high school.

your body or you weren’t ever discovered, but the police had listed you as deceased. you weren’t a runaway, you were eighteen, and had nothing to runaway for. when you couldn’t be traced anywhere on the grid, the police pronounced you dead, and that was that.

pictures of you and any sort of evidence remained in a cardboard box somewhere in the police station. you were left to rot in every way.

you were tired of being forgotten, but more exhausted that nobody knew that your boyfriend did this, and you probably weren’t going to be the first girl he killed.

rafe cameron needed to know what he did, and you wanted to do everything you could to make him drag himself to the police station, sit down, and say, “i killed her — and i enjoyed every fucking second of it.”

madness was becoming rafe. he was already an insane, depraved fuck before, but the lack of sleep and memories of the murder were catching up to him for good.

dark circles were around his eyes, hair greasy and messy, his body tired. he felt like he was going to snap any second.

he kept drinking, smoking weed and doing coke back to back, surprised that his heart didn’t give out yet.

a random exhaustion toll pushed over him, laying him down on the floor of his bedroom, and his eyes threatened to snap shut.

he didn’t want to sleep, he was afraid to. he was afraid to see you, with your bloody dress and sad face, making him touch your wounds.

rafe didn’t win the fight of sleeping, and he knocked out cold on his bedroom floor.

he wasn’t in the basement, he was in his bedroom, and he could hear your feet padding away to the front of the house, to your car.

oh, he was reliving the night. and he couldn’t stop. he couldn’t get out of the memory — he was facing everything.

he saw you bloody by his doorframe, and you tilted your head. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice sounding as if he was trapped in a void.

you only frowned. “so you know.”

like a reflex, rafe hurriedly rushed over to you outside before you could get away, seizing you away, and taking you to the basement.

he pinned you down to the ground, and screamed at you to stop crying, upset and angry you were willing to betray him when he did everything for you.

you were sobbing, but it became echoes and his ears rang, everything around him becoming silent except his own heavy breathing. he grabbed the knife that sat in his pocket, and he could see your eyes widen with fear to the sight of the object.

“rafe!” you screamed in the first stab. he hit you sharp and right in the abdomen.

he held his knife there for a second, like time was freezing him, and he felt a hot breath at the side of his face.

it was you.

“am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe proceeded to stab you as you sobbed. you cried out his name, trying to fight away the knife, promising to be good and for him to stop.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

rafe couldn’t stop, he couldn’t control himself. he kept stabbing you as you screamed. he was a monster, with the inability to suppress his anger or violence.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

a part you thought you were making him feel sick because of how mutilated your body was; that the body he was once desired, was now filling him with disgust. you wondered if how butchered you looked, was making him uncomfortable and sick. he didn’t deserve your concern, but it happened anyway. was it making him sick?

rafe wanted to cry, but couldn’t. he was revisiting the person he was in this moment, and could see life vanish from your eyes, death taking you away.

he took one last stab, and held it there like the first one. you kneeled in front of him, looking over at your corpse for a moment before your eyes settled into his raging ones.

he held prolonged eye contact with you as you inched your face close to his, but kept a safe distance. you placed your hand on top of his murdering one, and with a blank face, lastly asking him, “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe broke eye contact with you to look at your deceased body, and realized and remembered this murder. your organs could be nearly seen, blood gushed and poured out everywhere, your body cold and still.

he dropped the knife, and eyed you. “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head, and sighed. “you will revisit this everyday as long as you live,” you said, sniffling. “all i wanted was to be yours, and be good enough, rafe. was i no good?”

he didn’t have an answer, and with that, you got up, staring over at your body. “i want you to know,” you chuckled softly to yourself, “i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did. i forgive you, especially since i’m happier where i’m at.”

“heaven?” rafe asked.

you nodded. “you won’t make it here, but i’ll still hope and wait that you do — because i love you too much to let god be angry with you too.”

“he’s an angry man?”

“he’s angry and unfair,” you responded. “like someone i know. i loved god, i loved you; two men who didn’t view me as much, who don’t deserve for me to believe in them.”

rafe went quiet, and enough time went by for you to disappear for good to let rafe cry, and scream. he cried and sobbed, dry heaving as he vomited everywhere to the sight of you.

he killed you, and as long as he kept it to himself, you would drive him mad and insane with the knowing of it.

rafe cameron confessed to your murder only hours later. he drove himself to the police station, and confessed to every detail, telling sheriff shope where your body was.

they found your maimed body in the exact location where rafe told them it was, your body already decomposing into near bones, eaten by critters and bugs.

the earth was consuming you.

he was hated forever, the town wanted him torched or given the death penalty. it would be a while until he got a trial.

your funeral could be proper with your body in a casket, given a rightful way to be down in the ground, protected and secured by a box stuffed with silk fabric.

you could see your mom cry, and you wish she wouldn’t. your father had to give the prayer at your funeral, your best friends sobbing, and hating themselves for not getting you away from rafe sooner.

however, your death was simply inevitable. if rafe didn’t kill you, your love for him would. he was everything to you.

even when he was murdering you — getting a vile satisfaction from it — you were worried about him, if you and your maimed body was making him feel more nauseous and sick than the actual murder was.

rafe would live with the knowing that you truly loved him, and he took your life every single day that he spent in a prison block cell.

and your ghost would continue to linger and haunt him, never letting him know peace and serenity as he never did to you.

#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron outer banks #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #drew starkey obx #drew starkey one shot #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x female reader

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year2000electronics · 2 months

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i’m thinking about all the different portal-builders and people who partnered up with bill in the book of bill. in general i feel like they can be sorted into two categories:

- part of some sort of group or commune (the aztecs, the anti-cipher association, the salem witches)

- alone, but had some sort of power over people and society or power that could spread to other people (the pharaoh, elias inkwell, the shaman, the wizard)

so bill was able to make impacts on those parts of history and plaster his face in places because of the power and numbers he had access to… and it seems like he sought out powerful people on purpose

ford, meanwhile, summoned HIM, wasn’t sought out, but was able to not only build a portal with just the help of fiddleford (and a few construction workers, depending on who you ask and when), but also, as a loner with absolutely zero sway on society, had an entire basement study’s worth of bill artifacts and hid bill triangles all over his home. this nerdy little outcast is basically running a one-man religion all out on his lonesome here.

i wonder how bill felt about that, y’know, all the artifacts and the cabin decor and stuff. did he find it flattering? was he over it? every object using bill’s visage is a peephole for him, so he says, so i imagine he’s never gonna turn down more opportunities for his face to be everywhere, but he doesn’t seem to get much out of being worshipped as a prospect? i mean, he wants a portal, not to be prayed to. but i wonder if he found just one little guy doing it charming. like, ford is trying to do the work that is typically reserved for entire churches and social gatherings, he’s been walking around with a ritual dagger for 20 minutes trying to figure out what the hell he’s going to do with it. i wonder if that would make bill laugh.

#gravity falls #the book of bill #book of bill spoilers #billford #i like thinking of these things #moth flies

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webslingingslasher · 9 months

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banner made by: @thursdaygxrls

(yes, i reposted this. i needed to edit the dates. thank you to those who will re-reblog and re-like.)

it's finally here. a major quick thank you for all the love and patience everyone has shown me over this series. i hope it's worth the wait.

word count: 11k.

it's getting real now...

CHAPTER TWO: MASTERMIND

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

Chistine Kiko just handed you an eighth of mushrooms and you weren’t one to disappoint. Even if it was your first time. “My fucking dad wouldn’t let me do anything in the Hamptons. I literally only had my dab pen and coke. Like, what kind of person does that?”

They taste like fucking shit, Christine licked her pudgy fingers dry while you were gagging between chews. “He sounds,” baby barf, “like a monster.” She doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm, “thank you! Everyone said I was being dramatic too, glad to know I can rely on you.”

You cough on the last swallow, Christine patted at your back, a red solo cup pushed in your hand. “Drink. I mean, he bossed me around all summer too. He thinks I wanna be like him, like, try that with your other kids?” You pull the cup down, “you’re an only child?”

Christine shrugs, “it’s never too late.” You hum while you finish the mixture, it was ultra sweet, you assume it was full of booze. “So, basically, you’re gonna have a super fun time and I will totally be here for you if you need me, but I have friends to see, ya know?”

It’s a nice way of saying she will absolutely not be around if you need her. You stop her with a hand on her wrist, “wait, how long until this hits? Will I know?” Christine smirks, “about an hour, give or take. Ride the wave and pick a bed to land in.”

You’re alone for an entire two minutes, just enough time to get your own cup of jungle juice, the same mixture as Christine’s, before an arm drops around your shoulders. The voice alone makes you want to eat sand, you just know he’s about to say something stupid.

With his girlfriend in tow, blonde hair whips towards you, a snotty smirk, “did you see Harvey yet?” It takes everything in you not to wack his arm. “No, not yet.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s going to love your top.” You huff at him, “this wasn’t even the shirt Ally wanted me to wear, so, fuck you!” Matt holds a hand to his chest, “I am in a committed relationship, and even if I wasn’t, ew.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, blondie. I’ve seen cuter rats.” He narrows his eyes, “I will pray for evil to find you.” Ally gasps, “Matty, no.”

Holding a middle finger up, your eyes wander around the room until you zone in on Harvey resting against the staircase, a gleam of light hits his wrist, silver dances in your eyes.

Harvey must have felt you, his chin rises in a poor excuse for a nod. You flash a four finger wave, raising your cup to your mouth when he starts laughing with a friend. Matt pokes your elbow at the interaction, “what kind of dress are you wearing to the wedding?”

You grin, “I’m not sure yet, I don’t wanna clash with Ally.” You turn to her, “we both can’t wear white, right?”

“Hey, hey, hey, if anyone’s going to marry Ally it’s me, and it’ll be in a church so you’ll either sit it out or burn.”

Checking your phone you nibble at your lip, thirty eight minutes. Trent’s nowhere to be found, you need to start looking. And subtly. You take a step back, pretending to be interested in a fake text. “Give me five minutes, I need to make a call.” Ally’s quick to give the go ahead, “okay, text me if you can’t find us!”

Thirty seven minutes. Your shoulder hits a freshman’s, jungle juice splashes on the hardwood; spilling out an apology you step over the puddle. A boy you haven’t seen before smiles at you, if you weren’t on a mission, you’d be saying hello.

You loop by the garage, heart stuttering when you capture Peter and Ethan playing a game of beer pong. Trent wasn’t there, your last hope and prayer was in the backyard.

Surrounded by rose bushes, the chapter president had his lips wrapped around a cigarette. The red glow lit his cheeks up on the inhale, two girls and another guy with him, you think you shared a class with one of the girls last year.

Trent catches your eyes, it’s clear you both don’t want anyone to know what’s going on. He directed his gaze towards your phone, a hand moved around in his pocket before he produced his own.

You stare at your home screen, expecting the message any second. It comes when you move back inside.

‘Use the backstairs, my room is on the left at the end of the hall.’

‘Give me five minutes.’

Thirty two minutes, you don’t have any time to waste. Your feet hit the stairs.

Trent’s room is messy and terribly decorated. Clothes covered the floor, empty bowls and plates scattered across his desk, a still sweating, sealed water bottle makes you smack your lips. How tempting.

A string of flags, a political one that doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, a ‘Saturdays are for the boys’ one, and a black and white american flag. The trio makes you roll your eyes, it seems very fitting for his personality. No shoe has a matching partner in the entire room, you’re scared to think of what might be under his bed.

You don’t feel safe or comfortable enough to sit on it either, it’s unmade and with a noticeable and questionable looking stain. He does have a couch though, and it looks very, very comfortable. It feels like you’d sink right in. It’s not enticing enough, you don’t trust it.

You check your phone again, it’s been five minutes and it could be the liquor, but you feel a slight wobble. Twenty three minutes until blast off Trent slides through a small crack in the door, your arms cross defensively. “I know you’re not fucking me, but you can at least pretend to care about my time.”

“Wrong. I wouldn’t care about you, even if you were fucking me.” He proudly takes a seat at his desk, he offers you nothing. A smug look rolls over, “you’ve built it up long enough, what do you need from me?”

The sooner it’s over, the better. “My friends and I have a bet on your potential new members, if the person I pick makes it through recruitment, I win. I need you to make sure I win.”

Trent’s facade slips, even just for a millisecond. “One more time, and I need you to be very clear on it, alright?”

Were you slurring your words? You try to speak clearer. “I know someone who’s going to pledge, and I promise you he has no involvement in this, but I need him to be recruited so I can win some money. All I need is for you to make sure I win and they don’t.”

A brief pause, Trent looks sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that.” You cut him off, he accepted the terms last Friday, and again when you sent over copies of your- Noa’s hard discoveries.

“No, no, Trent, you did. You said anything I needed, and I need this.”

“If you would’ve told me what you needed, you would’ve known I couldn’t help you.”

“This is bullshit, I’ll start singing from the rooftops about your payoff.”

“No, you won’t. I’m the president, so I get final say on who we fully recruit-” You roll your eyes, “I know.”

“- but I don’t get to choose who makes it past rush, you need a member to bid on a pledge. You need someone to big brother him, I can’t do that. If I get involved it becomes dirty rushing, and that is the biggest ‘no no’ to exist.”

You slump, everything comes crashing down. “So… you can’t even pull rank here?” Trent shakes his head, “absolutely not.”

“So this was all for nothing?”

“If you can find a member to bid on him, you have my promise he’ll make it, and I’ll cut whoever you need so you can win. That’s it.”

You’re at a loss, you have no other member you could ask. Matt could never keep a secret, you didn’t know Ethan well enough and there was no way in hell you’d ask- “Want my advice? Parker is your best bet.”

You shake your head wildly, it takes a moment for your mind to click back into place. “You really want to involve someone else into this? You know what’s at stake, right?” You’re hinting at his secret, Trent shrugs.

“If anyone is going to know about it, I’d want it to be Parker. He can keep a secret and has no issue in playing dirty if he’s in on it.” You’re suddenly very thirsty, you keep licking your lips for moisture.

“He doesn’t know who I am.” Not a total lie.

“Then introduce yourself.”

You shouldn’t have to do anything, he’s the one not making good on his promise. You made good on your end and in return he’s barely lifting a finger. Maybe it had something to do with not wanting Peter involved due to fear of judgment. Or, maybe he’d be impressed like Trent.

If you wanted Peter to be a conquest, it couldn’t start by you asking for a favor. That was friend behavior, and you wanted to be anything but friends. This was Trent’s problem, not yours. He doesn’t understand that you can make things difficult for him if he backs out.

Your tongue is thick and you need water. You have no time for this.

“Listen, Trent. This is your problem. I held up my end of the bargain, and you have to do yours. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re going to pledge Isaac Barns. If you don’t, I’ll turn shit around and make this the dirty frat, the frat that cheated for first place.”

Trent held a clenched jaw, you saw nothing but fury in his eyes. “We’ll figure something out. No need to get mouthy.” If you had more time you’d entertain his comment, but it’s clear he’d figure something out.

You eye the plastic water bottle next to him, snatching it from the side. “And I’m taking this, talk to me when you have a plan, Simpson!” When his door slams shut, it rings in your ears.

You feel every muscle in your legs move while you walk, and within minutes it seemed like everything got brighter. A vibration washes down the back of your thigh, you slap around, it’s your phone. A single text.

‘friend?’

You’ve been missing too long, one way to stop the questions.

‘Finding Harvey…’ the response was a keyboard smash.

Blinking harsh, the room feels like it’s blending together. You’ve never felt this way, it’s like the entire house is moving underneath your feet. The floor waves you into the crowd, everything feels like it’s slow motion, yet sped up at the same time.

“Hey!” You don’t know who it is, it’s a stranger, his voice sounds distorted. You shake your head clear, and step right by him. You’re on a mission and can’t be sidetracked, things are hitting quickly and you need to find Harvey to explain plans have taken a very sharp left.

A spin of bodies, you find one that stands out. You catch her shoulders.

“Lindsey!” You fight for the words, they’re like butter. “Have you seen Harvey Guyn?”

She’s fucking plastered, a slur of letters string out. “... hall.. wine… yeah! haha…” A gasp when she sees a friend across the house, you’re forgotten in a second. Putting your faith in her, you take careful steps, slapping your hands on the wine closet and tugging it open.

“Harvey! You in here? Lindsey said you were-” there was no chance to finish, Harvey was busy doing it for you. His head was thrown back on the wall tiles, a guttural moan ripped from his throat. Wrapped around his fist was a tight hold of black hair, to help Christine Kiko keep his dick swallowed down.

“Oh shit,” you slam the door on them, standing in shock for a few seconds. It wasn’t about him hooking up with her, he could do what he wanted. But it wasn’t everyday you saw something like that in person, and you had to give credit to Christine, she was taking it like a champ.

It gave you an out for the night, you were too high for anything but breathing.

Thank god for Christine Kiko. And really bless her for catching up with you in record time spurting apologies while wiping her mouth clean. “I know, I know, you guys were hooking up, but-”

You stop her sorry, “how’d you know?” She rakes her long nails through her hair to untangle it, it comes out clean instantly. “My dad is super simping for his dad and we vacationed together this year so he had me try and make Harvey happy so he could tell his dad they should do business.”

Christine has no idea how fucked up that sounds, “what would he have done if you were his son?” She doesn’t miss a beat, “Harvey swings both ways, doesn’t he?”

Music shakes your feet, Christine’s hair looks soft. It’s black and pin-straight, you reach out, you comb your fingers through without a hint of struggle. “Wow, you take such good care of your hair.”

“Rice water, you’re welcome.” She looks back at the door, “I need some things to finish up, but um, you feeling alright? It looks like it’s settling in.” It is. You’re busy twisting the cap on your water bottle, the small ridges skate across your thumb to create a soothing repetition. “Yeah.”

It makes her smile, “yeah? You should go outside, the trees look fucking awesome, even when it’s dark.” You thank her for the idea, and stand still for a little too long after Christine retreats back to the wine closet. You think it’s your brain trying to remember how to walk, you blame the bass reverberating off the flooring.

The second you’re able to actually pick your feet up, you move three steps before noticing it feels like you have lead boots on. You clomp towards the couches, perched on the side, sitting pretty, was your best friend.

Making eye contact, you replay what just happened. You can’t stop it, it’s uncontrollable, bubbling from your throat, you laugh. Loudly. The longer you laugh, the more intense it gets. Ally has no idea what’s going on, but you assume the giggle is contagious.

“What! Tell me!” You’re trying, but you can’t catch your breath. Each time you try to push more than two words out, you’re back to laughing so hard your shoulders shake. There’s only one reason you’re finding this so funny, you try to collect yourself. “I…” Another round, Ally’s right with you; you think she’s just excited to see what’s got you so giddy.

“Okay, okay. Christine Kiko gave me some shrooms, and they, like, just hit. Also, I just caught her sucking Harvey’s dick.” Ally sputters, “what?!” A hand covers her mouth, the imagery catching up to her. “Oh my god!” You nod, she said it better than you could. “And you saw this?!” It’s like the idea is unbelievable to her. “Uh huh, right in front of me.”

Ally presses the hand covering her mouth, to her cheek. A moment of silence, until she starts to laugh just like you did. You almost copy, until she stops and gives you an ironclad look, “wait, did you say mushrooms?”

You pretend your mind is exploding. “I’m experiencing things I couldn’t explain right now.” Ally’s hair looks almost as soft as Christine’s. You grab a thick piece, breaking it into thirds and start to braid. It feels like rope, your fingers turn into a ball of yarn, fumbling into one useless clump.

“Are you okay? Matty and I were about to go upstairs.” Your eyes flash towards the stairs on instinct, then you're back at her. “Coming back down?” Ally grins and sends you a wink, “not if I give him a reason not to.” She drops her grin, “unless you need company, in that case, I’m here for you.”

Just because you chose to spend your night tripping, it doesn’t mean Ally has to ditch bedtime with her boyfriend. Wouldn’t that be an incredibly selfish thing to do? “I don’t need a trip sitter, I have myself. And Christine. Also, have you seen Prince?”

“Uh, no. He went off with Rocco the second we got here.” Rocco, the second you hear his name, you think of his hair, how does one achieve an afro? Would it be wrong to ask?

“Cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt.” Ally eyes you, she’s trying to make sure you’re fully okay before she pulls Matt upstairs. You flash a smile, it’s enough to have her drop her shoulders in relief. “You always have me, you know where I’ll be.”

“And I am so, so grateful for you, Ally Storm.” Because, you are. In your opinion, mushrooms make you emotional. You went from laughing to appreciative in one minute, suddenly you’re hugging your best friend while holding back tears. “You are so kind, and patient, and nice, and, like, so super supportive to me.”

Ally squeezes you right back, “you should do drugs more often, I’m loving the praise.” You pull back to wink at her, “it’s only cause you’re so great. Go do your boyfriend, since I can’t get any tonight.”

“You think sex on shrooms would be good?” The idea hadn’t occurred, but thinking about it makes you agree with her. “Sex on hallucinogens? That’s boyfriend behavior.” Ally pats your arm, “next time, invite me. I’ll let you know how it is.”

A twinkle in her eye appears, you dread what’s about to happen. “Sup, slugger?” The arm around you is entirely too heavy, but oddly comforting. Like a weighted blanket. “She took mushrooms.” You nod, Matt rubs your shoulder, you almost purr. “Having fun?” Normally, you have a love hate relationship with Matt. You both love to hate each other, but not seriously. Not that it’s been said, but you know Matt would protect you with anything in him if needed.

Tonight, right now, Matt is a solid force. “Permission to hug?” Ally’s eyes widen, she almost doubles down on the sentiment of doing drugs more often. “You wanna full on, front touch me?” Nevermind, Matt just ruined it, like he ruins everything. “Not anymore, you ruined it.”

“Oh, no, no, no. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Before you can try and dodge it, Matt’s got you in his hold. It’s very obvious he’s doing it for the pure enjoyment of annoying you, it’s almost endearing. Almost. You’d fight better at shoving him away but he’s got a warmth radiating from his chest and into yours.

Peter watches you bump hips across the room with Paul’s girlfriend, your fingers pull at her hair. A wild look crosses her face, two of you giggling.

“I didn’t know she was Ally’s friend.” Ethan scratches at his arm, Peter’s guard goes up. He knows why he’s surprised to know you were the friend in question, he doesn’t know why Ethan thinks so too.

Ethan shrugs and asks Peter about something, he can’t focus. “You know her?”

“Yeah, that’s my bio girl.”

Peter felt constricted, he doesn’t know why. “Wait, what? That’s my freshman.”

Ethan stares at the side of Peter’s head. “She’s not a freshman.” Peter sneers at his friend, “yeah, no shit.” Ethan kisses his teeth, “I invited her to the party.” He doesn’t know why, but Peter feels slightly challenged.

“So did I.” His arms cross over his chest, he mumbles the rest. “On the first day.”

“Funny. When I asked she said she had no plans.”

Peter can feel his jaw clench, he wants to kind of fucking punch him, if he’s being honest. And that makes him even more upset, because why is he so threatened? Ethan may have an inkling that his best friend wants you more than he does, but he also wants him to know he could have competition.

“Funny.” It’s clear Peter did not find it funny.

“She’s cool. You know, witty, kind, pretty…” Peter’s doing what he can to keep himself from walking away, he wants to scream that he had eyes on you first. But that’s an insane thought, only one that could be casted by a witch.

“She’s difficult and entitled.”

All Ethan hears is ‘she’s fucking perfect for me.’ And his mind was made up, you were no longer someone he’d pursue. You’re all Parker’s, because he wants you. Even if he won’t admit it, yet.

“So, you have no issue with me moving in on that?” Peter’s a little too quiet, choosing to nurse on his beer in hand. “Do what you want, man.” He finishes his drink, he looks back up at you, sharing a warm embrace with Paul.

“Cause, I don’t mind leaving it alone, if you want.” It takes a second, but Peter lightly shrugs. No words needed to be said, it told Ethan everything he needed to know. “You saw her first, it’s only fair.” It’s tiny, and it’s a microflash, but Peter grinned. What was understood, didn’t need to be explained.

Heavy steps found themselves at a familiar face.

“My roommate ditched me and this floor looks like a pirate ship.” You point down for good measure, Ethan’s a good sport and looks with you. “Is it moving?”

You nod quickly, glad he too can see the shifting boards. Ethan’s sweater catches your attention, it looks soft. By default he looks like a teddy bear, you can’t hold yourself back, latching yourself to the cashmere you run your hands over his back.

“It’s so soft.”

Ethan laughs, he has no issue returning the love. You melt under his touch, everything is so warm. “I can feel your hands.” Your lab partner knows exactly what’s going on, “yeah? What’d you take, X?”

You pull back to spread pixie dust from your fingertips, “magic mushrooms.” Lights flash in cohesion with the music, you’re awe at the sharp beauty. Swirls of color cloud your vision, loud bass rings your ears. Vibrations flow from your toes up to your knees, a circle of laughter around you is contagious.

You can’t stop the giggles, you weren’t sure who was laughing or why but it seemed so fitting.

You throw your head back, the room spins and you squeal when your waist is held tight.

“Ethan!” You hug him again, you can’t stop patting his sweater. “Wanna do some shots?” Ethan shakes his head, “no, you want some water.” You stop, “oh my god, yeah, that sounds so good.” Your lower back is nudged, you’re guided into the kitchen where you see a blur of motion.

Stumbling, your back collides into another body. You spin quickly, you can’t believe it’s taken this long to see him.

“Peter, hi!”

Your arms loop around his back, you pull him tight to you and sigh. He’s broader than Ethan, but his shirt can’t match Ethan’s sweater. Peter feels oddly frozen, you shuffle into him further, an awkward pat is granted to the middle of your back. “Hi.”

“No, no, like this.” You fix the placement, it’s like he’s never given a hug in his entire life. Peter’s offering no warmth, it feels like he’s just allowing you to have this moment. You give him an unsure glance when you pull back, “I’ll make you better, don’t worry.”

You’re stopped before you could try and teach Peter a proper hug. “Let’s not hug, Parker.” You blink wildly at your lab partner, before looking back at Peter, he has an unimpressed gaze on Ethan. “No hugs? You don’t like hugs?”

It’s unacceptable, you pull at Ethan’s arm. “Here, show him how it’s done.” Ethan tries to shake his head, you loop around his waist tightly. “See, Peter? This is how you hug.”

“I know how to hug.”

You smile and nudge away from the cashmere, your arms open wide. “Okay, show me.”

“No.”

A frown takes over, since he’s being mean, you can too.

“Fine. I don’t like your haircut, how about that?” Peter lacks the reaction you want him to give, “thank you.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Christine should’ve given you the mushrooms instead, you’re kinda grumpy.”

Ethan pushes you back, “okay, D.A.R.E. Water.” You took the bottle and looked between the two friends. “Be honest, did you guys know they were hooking up?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, you had the urge to rub it out. Ethan slapped your hand down. “Who?” You hold a finger up to pause the conversation, water has never tasted so clear.

“Mmm…” you blink awake. “Harvey and Christine. Did you think he wasn’t planning on me finding out? Was he fully prepared to try and bang me after he got head from another girl? Cause, I don’t think so.”

A song you haven’t heard before plays, it sends waves of warmth over your skin.

Ethan shrugs, “sounds like Harvey, yeah.”

You jeer around the plastic bottle, “boo.” Peter’s short circuiting in his brain. You were hooking up with Harvey? The pieces were muddling. His Harvey? That guy sucks. Peter reacts subconsciously, grabbing whatever you handed him. An empty water bottle, you smile, “thanks!” He grunts before tossing it in the kitchen sink.

“This party would be so much better if Taylor Swift was playing.”

It takes everything in Peter not to roll his eyes, Ethan one ups him in a second.

“Which album?”

You gasp, Peter swears he sees a sparkle in your eyes. For a split second he regrets not asking you the same thing. “Any of them! Do you like her too?”

Peter thought his best friend read between the lines from their earlier conversation. He assumes he didn’t.

“She’s alright, I have a few of her vinyls.” Record scratch, Peter just lost you. Your hand grabbed Ethan’s shoulder, you leaned in closer and gave him doe eyes. “No way, I don’t believe you. Which ones?”

Ethan laughs, “I have them in my room, swear to god. I like her sister albums.”

Peter watches your hand slide down his sleeve until you latch around his wrist, “show me.” Ethan shrugs, “alright, we can-” Peter steps in front of him, the path blocked.

“Keznek.” As in, you’re not doing what I think you’re doing, right?

“Parker.” As in, do you really think that low of me?

A third name is brought into the mix, Peter looks down, you’re smiling big at him and for a second he feels like he’s smiling back.

“Who’s that?”

You point at yourself, “me.”

He finally has your name, it’s fitting. He doesn’t think he’s ever thought a name could fit a person, until he heard yours. A weird urge to compliment it tugs at him, he buries it down. Witch.

Attention back on Ethan, “you swear you have them?” He’s almost offended you’d ask, “promise.” You look to Peter, “can you confirm?” Peter sucks in a breath through his teeth, he shakes his head slowly. “I can’t.”

The answer is obvious, “I have to verify, if you’re telling the truth you’ll win cool points forever.” Plan impeded, the chapter president just walked through the kitchen, a gleam in the wolves eye. His hand clapped Peter’s chest, the light abuse caused you to frown.

“Nice to see you’re making friends with Parker.”

You flip the script, a fake smile. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Ethan laughed behind you and was immediately silenced with a harsh glare from Trent. “Watch it, Keznek.” Peter’s face hardened at the tone.

“You’re taking my advice, I love to see it.”

Peter has his eyes on you, it takes strength to ignore it. “Wanna talk about advice? You should play some Taylor Swift.” Trent scoffs, “get fucked.” Peter speaks up before you have a chance, “hey, woah.” The head of the house wasn’t about to be talked to like he was a chapter officer, even if he was. His response was pushing Peter back and walking away.

“I understand why he’s the president,” you watch the room swirl together. “He’s super mature.” Smacking your lips, you blindly reach for Ethan. “Do you see these fucking lights right now?” Peter glances around, it’s the same party lighting they use each time.

“Are they dragging?” You focus in, when you move your head slow trails of light follow. “Yeah, woah.” Peter clears his throat, the sound cupped around your ears. “Your friend here, freshman?” You spin, “who’s friend?”

Peter looks at Ethan for a second, you’re busy trying to pull at a loose thread on Peter’s sleeve. “How are you getting home tonight?” You twirl the strand around your finger, the tension snaps it. When the blood returns to your fingertip, it warms your entire hand.

“Dunno yet. I’ll figure it out later.” You look down at your feet, they seem like they’re a million miles away from you. The floor shifts underneath you, it makes your knees shake, you clutch Ethan’s arm to balance yourself. “Pirate ship?” You nod, “ahoy, matey.”

Peter shifts when you take him in, more or less just focused on his face. He stands a little taller, then questions it, because why would he care about how tall you perceived him to be? “Peter,” he waits. Pointing behind you, “wanna do a shot? Ethan refused, like he hates me or something.” You can’t stop looking at him, the lights dance over his face, casting him in an angelic glow like no other.

“You think mixing shots with mushrooms is a good idea?” You move around, like your body couldn’t stand holding still. “Just one.” One wouldn’t hurt, and it’s not like he’s doing it for you or anything, he planned on having a shot anyways. You were just another person to pour for.

“Sure. Pick the poison.” You answer quickly, an honest response. “Rat.” Ethan starts to laugh and it’s contagious, you start giggling too. You don’t know why he’s laughing, but it feels good to have someone to laugh with. Peter tilts his head to the ceiling with a heavy sigh, “no, freshman. I meant booze.”

“Oh! Not vodka, I hate vodka, I can taste it in anything, even when Ally mixes it with Hawaiian Punch. So, please never give me vodka. I hate it.”

Peter smirks at Ethan, “so, vodka?” You sputter, you wonder if you confused love and hate in your speech. You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no, Peter. I hate vodka, please don’t give me any.”

Ethan slides a bottle down to Peter, it’s a party classic. Peter waits on you, “this good enough for you, princess?” It was sarcastic as all hell, but it still made you feel warm and fuzzy. “Yes, prince.” Peter just shook his head while he poured them up.

Raised glasses, you wait for the toast. “Here’s to A’s, C’s, and double D’s.” The words made you send a glare to Peter, it seemed like he was waiting for it. “You know, like grades?” It’s not what he meant, all three of you knew it, but you couldn’t fight him on it either. It still works, a cheer is a cheer.

Normally, you’d find Fireball warming, tonight, you find it burning. You almost choke on it, holding it in your mouth for longer than you should’ve, the instant sting had caught you off guard. “Jesus Christ, freshy. Swallow.” It’s like you need a reminder, you’re able to take it down; a shutter takes over your body.

You turn to your lab partner, a sour look on your face. “Why did you let me do that? You’re supposed to be smart.” Ethan holds his hands up, you’re not about to throw him under the bus. “Hey, I tried. You’re the one that only wanted Parker’s opinion.”

SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 9TH. CATHEDRAL HALL.

Peter was dragged out of his bed a little too early for a saturday in his opinion. He woke up to Trent hanging over his bed, poking him harshly on his shoulder. “The fuck do you want, Simpson?” If Peter had to guess what time it was by the shadow in his room, it was pushing early morning.

“Get up. We need to go somewhere.” Peter blinked quickly, dragging a heavy hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Now?” Trent started to stab, Peter slapped his hand away. “The fuck, man?” His president wasn’t playing around. “Get the fuck up, Parker.”

Only when Peter sat up did Trent back away, “don’t wake anyone up. I need you downstairs in five.” When his door was shut, Peter squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to taste the idea of sleep one more time. Then, he got up, tugged on sweatpants and a hoodie, and silently crept downstairs.

Peter tried to ask what was going on, and where they were going, but Trent just kept saying, ‘you’ll see,’ and ‘shut the fuck up and trust me.’ It wasn’t until he was walking up the steps to Cathedral hall, he had an odd feeling, a slight buzz in his stomach. It heightened when they took a turn for the girls section.

“Hey, Simpson, if this is a planned parenthood thing-”

“Shut the fuck up, Parker.” Out of nowhere he stopped, Peter almost ran into him. Trent banged on an decorated door, a whiteboard with Ally’s name, the other one had been swiped, the name unclear. “I thought Ally was at the house?” Trent beat the door harder, “she is.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, he was about to ask, yet again, why they were there. The answer came when the door flew open, eyes squinting at the hallway lighting, stands you. “You’re not Ally.”

Peter’s slightly surprised you’re home, he had no idea when or how you left last night. He also doesn’t really care.

“No shit,” you lightly scoffed when Trent shoved his way in, your shoulder hitting the doorframe. “Good morning to you, too, dick.” Peter gently walked in, making sure not to bump against you. It made you smile lightly, “good morning, Peter.” He nodded back, “morning.” Trent bounced on Ally’s bed, it produced a loud creak. “No wonder she’s always at the house.”

You sat on the edge of your own bed, gesturing to the spot next to you or your desk chair for a seating option for Peter; he chose the chair. Peter looked over your face while you woke up, your eyes puffy from being rubbed at, you stretched with arms over your head, a peek of skin showed your stomach.

“You look sick.” It snapped you from your daze, you frowned at Trent. “Thanks, it’s my natural beauty.” Trent pulled a sour look, “that’s what girls look like without makeup?” Peter doesn’t really notice a difference, and that’s not a bad thing. “It’s too early for your shit, Simpson.” He looks towards you, you poke your tongue out at Trent, a childish moment to prove you had someone on your side and not his.

Peter watches you lean back, velvety thighs on display. A hand goes behind your back, a plush resurfaced. Spider-Man sits on your lap, arms wrapped tight around his waist. He thinks it’s a squishmellow of some sort, he remembers he hooked up with a girl last year with at least twenty on her bed. She didn’t have a Spider-Man one though.

“How are you feeling?” You look tired, maybe a little hungover. Little to no energy. Peter thinks it’s the comedown of your previous night's choices. You grin, holding Spider-Man a little tighter. “Like a champ, you?”

Trent scoffs, “enough bullshit, wench. You know why we’re here.” Peter feels the hair on his neck stand up, Trent can be a prick, but he really has a vendetta against you. “Jesus Christ, Simpson. She’s a human being.” It’s the bare minimum, but it still makes you feel warm and fuzzy. “It’s okay, Peter. He’s just mad he can’t satisfy women.”

Trent flies up, “fuck you! I’m doing you a fucking favor and-” Peter stands up just as quick, pushing Trent back down with a hand on his shoulder. “Sit down, Simpson.” With Peter as mediator, you don’t worry about standing up for yourself.

“You’re not doing me a favor, I’m doing you a favor! You’re the one that couldn’t hold up your end of the bargain, you asshole!” Trent fights against Peter’s hold, “you’re the one that came to me!” You throw your Spider-Man to the side and step up, Peter backs up against your chest, literally using his body as a barrier. “You’re the one that involved Peter!”

Peter shoves hard on Trent’s chest, it sends him flying back into Ally’s bed. You step back, Peter’s doing his best to look between the two of you. It’s exasperated, “involved me in what?” It goes silent, you weren’t going to say anything, you were the one who told Trent to fix it. Trent’s the one that brought in Peter, Trent’s the one to surprise you with a visit.

Trent’s breathing is harsh, he’s more worked up than you are. You don’t know if it’s the situation or your comments, but you’re not saying a word until he does. “Look, your friend here, she’s the one that got us the intel on the other frats.” Trent’s a lot more gentle this time around, you think it may have something with the way Peter’s looking at him, daring him to try and make a move.

Peter glances back at you, you look away, a poster more interesting. “She needs something in return and I can’t help her. I told her to ask you and I’d look the other way, but someone had to be difficult.”

“I held up my end, Simpson. You do the same.” Trent huffed, “I fucking told you-” he lowered his voice at Peter’s glare, “- that I couldn’t do anything. I told you to ask Parker and you were the one that stormed out all pissed. I brought him here, isn’t that good enough?”

Your arms cross, no, it wasn’t good enough. “I never wanted to involve Peter, I told you that last night. I just wanted you to figure out a way to fix it.” Trent throws his arm out at Peter, “I did! He’s fucking here! He’s gonna fucking fix it!”

Peter feels like he’s going crazy, “fix what?” His chapter president rubs at his forehead, a heavy sigh. “You need to pledge… Fuck, what was his name?” You roll your eyes, you have little to no hope. “Isaac Barns.” Trent nods, “yeah, him. Parker, all I need you to do is pledge him and this-” an allover gesture to your body, “-goes away.”

Peter takes a second to let it sink in, he almost laughs, but it seems a little too real to be a joke. “Dirty rushing, really? You do know what’s at stake if I say yes, right?” Trent’s jaw looks like it’s about to break into a thousand pieces with the tension it’s under. “Yes, Parker, I know what I’m asking.” Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “right, so you understand why I have to say no.”

You jump in, your hand on Peter’s arm, pulling him to face you. He’s staring at the placement, it’s sending a burn up and down, radiating heat. You pull away before he can shake your hold off, “please?” Peter steps away from Trent with a final warning glance, “tell me, freshman. Are you in a sorority?” You frown, “no.” He nods, like he already knew the answer. “Right. And are you aware of what could happen to me if I agree?” You have an idea, and it tells you it wouldn’t be good. “That’s if you get caught, you have Trent’s go ahead.”

Peter laughs, he doesn’t give a shit Trent’s right there. “You think I trust him to have my back? He’d throw me under the bus in a second.” Peter doesn’t know what you know, you look in Trent’s eyes when you respond, making it clear that that would never happen. “Then trust me, and trust me when I say he won’t.”

Trent looks away from Peter, he makes the connection in a second.

“What do you have on Simpson?” You sputter, you feel a flush of warmth coat you. “I’m not like… some blackmailer or anything.” Trent shouts out from the bed, “ha!” Your eyes flash to the same poster from before, nothing has changed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. President. Do you want to share with the peanut gallery?” Peter raises his hands, displeased, “don’t insult me and ask for a favor in the same breath.”

“Look, Parker, just fucking pledge the kid, alright? It stays between us. Don’t think I don’t have shit to lose by letting this happen. I have the same risk you do.” Peter disagrees, “you’re not the one pledging.” Trent stands up, “but I’m cutting whoever she tells me. We’re both playing dirty.”

Peter’s trying to think about it logically, he just doesn’t understand why. You have all the answers, they’re only there because of you. “Why?” You pause, “what, this guy your boyfriend or something?” You shake your head quickly, “no, no, no. Not at all. He doesn’t even know I’m doing this. He’s just a person I know who’s rushing, that’s it.”

Peter kisses his teeth and shakes his head in disbelief, “yeah, I don’t know about that.” Total defeat, you were at a loss. Your answer was Trent, if Peter wouldn’t do it, Trent needed to find someone who would. “Trent,” it comes out as a whine, a defiant toddler pointing at Peter.

“C’mon, Parker. Think about this. You’re smarter than your own good.” Peter sizes his president up, he really doesn’t like what he’s implying. “And I’m supposed to trust you?” You push on Peter’s arm, “no, you’re supposed to trust me. Trent won’t touch you, no matter your answer. Even though I really wish it was yes.”

Peter’s doing his best to push down all emotion, because if he wasn’t, he’d find out that he wanted to say yes. Just because you asked him. And that’s not who he is, or what he does. He’s known you for a week and he’s about to put his entire academic career at hand, it’s dehumanizing to himself. Witch.

“Fine.” You cheer, Peter’s whipped into a side hug. He claws your arms away from him, “I didn’t say yes. I’ll think about it, okay?” You nod, it’s enough for you, “thank you so much, Peter. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Trent throws his hands up, “hello? You’re welcome.” You sneer at him, “you did nothing but put it all on Peter.” Peter tilts his head, he didn’t think about it like that, but you’re right. “You’re insufferable and will never find a man to put up with that.” That was a blow, a harsh one at that. You’re pretty good at brushing things off, or firing back, but Trent went a little too far. He hit that deep down, hidden, insecurity.

You just really wanted to go back to sleep, the thought of Peter in your room no longer slightly excited you. You just wanted to be alone. “Jesus fucking Christ, Trent. Who the fuck says shit like that?” You shrug, “it’s obvious he was just giving me constructive criticism.” You try to joke, it doesn’t really work.

Peter looks down at you, it’s like you sunk down into the floor. Trent made you feel small. “It’s not funny, nothing about that was funny. That was fucked up, Simpson, the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s not an ounce of remorse on his face either, “sorry.” Peter wants to break his arm, instead he shoves him towards the door, nothing near gentle. “You’re a fucking dick.”

“Yeah, and you just wanna stick yours in her.” If he wouldn’t be at grounds of expulsion from the frat, Peter would’ve laid him the fuck out right then and there. “Shut the fuck up, Simpson. Just leave it alone.” He does, and throws the door open before parting you with a middle finger.

Peter pauses at the door, his eyes on your figure. It’s not like he cares about you or anything, Trent was a dick, an uncalled for amount of mean. “Don’t listen to him, he’s still reeling from that ‘can’t please a woman,’ comment.” You give a small smile, “thanks, Peter.”

Peter’s hand holds the door handle, a tight lipped grin. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he just has to tell you. Clearing his throat, “hey, freshman?” You perk up, he finds himself looking down at your mouth, eyes trailing towards your collarbone. Peter stops himself, it’s not about that right now.

“You’re not… you’re not totally insufferable.”

Something about it makes you explode, you can’t stop the cheek hurting grin. For a second, Peter matches it. “Are you saying I’ll find a man to put up with me?” Peter shrugs a shoulder, “the world is pretty big, freshman. There’s gotta be at least one.”

At least Peter won’t think you’ll die alone, he might even be at your side. “Thanks, Peter. For everything. And for thinking about it, it means a lot to me.” Peter closing the door on himself, he briefly pauses, “just because I said I’d think about it, doesn’t mean I’ll do it.” You nod, “I know.”

“Good. I just didn’t want you to get disappointed.” Your eyes brighten, “you care about disappointing me?”

It goes unanswered, instead, Peter takes a deep inhale. “I’ll see you around.” With that, you were alone with Spider-Man once more.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH, ESU DINING HALL.

The plastic chair next to Peter slides out, nickel legs scratch the tile underneath them.

“So, how are we feeling about a verdict?”

Peter doesn’t even flinch, he takes a bite of his sandwich. It was better before it was ruined by the presence of a demonic presence. Your hands drum on the table like you’re building yourself up for a yes, Peter thinks it’s funny you find him so easy.

“It’s been two days, freshman.” You huff dramatically, “not a freshman.”

“You act like one.”

This is the part where you question your attraction towards him, it’s proof to the saying ‘you can’t pick who you love.’ You lean closer, it’s not about semantics. Peter pulls back when you get too close, he must be scared of another hug.

“It’s a pretty easy answer, Peter. If you won’t do it, fine. But your president better figure out another way and quickly. We already have the PNM list, you make the choice sunday.”

It isn’t his problem but the more he knows about it, the more it becomes his. Peter can’t deny the curiosity, for a witch you have no real magic, beyond what you’ve casted on him.

Peter sighs, “alright, explain it to me. Sell it to me.” You sit straighter and fix your hair, clearing your throat you interlock your fingers on the table and begin to pitch. “I’m going on the ski trip this year, yay you.” You pout dramatically, “I needed money because my boyfriend isn’t a member of the frat and I wasn’t budgeted in.” Your words were a nod towards Ally, as if she couldn’t pay for it herself if she needed to.

Peter wants to bang his head against the table, there’s no fucking way he had to spend a week with you in a house. That’s constant communication. That’s hell.

“We bet every year on a member that makes it in, if we win, we get the money. I upped the stakes this year, and I know someone who signed up to rush.” You smile and poke at his arm, it’s solid. Peter looks down at your finger, you pull back and finish.

“That’s where you come in. You pick him.”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest while he tilts his chair back, he’s mulling it over in his mind. He looks over your face while he pokes at his cheek with his tongue, if that’s his concentration face, you hope to make him think a lot more.

“What do I get out of it?” In Peter’s mind, it’s a bit unfair. He’s putting his reputation, spot in the frat and possibly academic probation on the line. And he gets nothing out of it. He doesn’t even want anything in return, or nothing he can think of at the moment at least. It still feels like he has to bargain for something, he’d regret it later.

You try to hide the shock, you didn’t think Peter was that kind of guy. You didn’t know him, but you didn’t take him for a sexual favors type of person. You wanted to hook up with him, sure. But when he felt like it was owed to him, it felt icky.

“Oh,” you look around the room, your voice lowers. The deal took a dirty turn. “What, um…” You look back at him before escaping eye contact, you don’t feel as bold. “What did you have in mind?”

You didn’t hide the shock well, Peter’s chair is back on four legs with a slam. “No, god no.” Okay, he wasn’t asking for sex, but god no? Peter worded it wrong, you took it as a personal offense. “Not…” He’s not even going to try and explain that one out, he ditches the part where he would try to say ‘not that I wouldn’t have sex with you, because I would, but…’

“I’m not asking for you to fuck me, I just meant I’m putting a lot on the line for a girl who assaulted me and a guy I barley like.” Assault is a harsh word, you’d fight him on it but the last part mattered more. You could give him the dirt on Trent, he said if anyone knew he would prefer it to be Peter.

“Wanna know what I have on Trent?” You have his attention, suddenly Peter looks very interested in what you have to say. He nibbles on his bottom lip for a second before nodding, for this part, you really lean in.

“He failed out. The school sent him a letter saying he was dismissed, he had a fourteen average.” Peter’s trying to connect the dots, for once, he truly had no idea what was going on in the frat house. “His dad donated eighty-six grand, anonymously, and the next day? Bam. Reenlisted and all roles reinstated, like nothing ever happened.” Peter’s not surprised one bit, it’s very on brand for the Simpson family, to pay their way out of trouble. At least he can say you didn’t leave him empty handed, it’s good ammo to have in the back of his pocket.

“I’ll consider your request more seriously.” It’s something, and you’ll celebrate it, you pull him into a hug, just for a quick second to squeal in his ear. You’re shrugged off in a second, you don’t care. “Thank you! See, I just knew I picked the good one!”

The good one?

You’re up and pushing the seat in, your bag hung over a shoulder. “I’ll see you friday?” In relation to the weekly party, he nods slowly, like you’re an idiot. “I do live there, yes.” You’re unfazed, you’ve come to realize he’s just a mildly grumpy person. It’s mostly cute.

“Will you let me know then, is that enough time?” Peter will do anything to have you leave, he wants five minutes of peace with his lunch before he has thermodynamics. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Your eyes sparkle, he has to look back at his plate. “Thank you, Peter. You’re the bestest.”

You really, truly are a witch. Because his sandwich tasted a whole lot sweeter when you walked away. It turned into sog the second you placed yourself at Ally and Paul’s table. Ally’s eyes flashing over to his, a grin when he was caught looking your way. He finished in record time, he needed to get out of the room, it was starting to get a little too warm for his comfort.

Ally started in the second you placed yourself across from her, eyes flashing to where you previously were. “Hanging out with Parker?” You shrug, if it helps getting her off your back, it helps. “He’s cute.” A squeal, she pulls at her boyfriend's arm. “Did you hear that? Matty, ask Parker if he’s into her.”

Matt crushes a coke can, a burp follows. “No.” Ally’s face scrunches up, “why not?” Matt’s swiping at his phone, you can’t tell what game he’s playing, the glare from the lights are too bad. “Cause it’s not my business, or yours.” Ally pulls away from him entirely, her arms crossed over her chest in a huff. Uh oh, she’s mad.

“Babe, can you get me a water? My wallet is in my backpack.” When she makes no move, he peeks over, “please? I can’t pause this level.” It’s a huff from his girlfriend, “what? You’re mad at me now? Look, I can’t even ask him if I wanted to, he’s leaving.” You look over your shoulder, Peter’s walking out with headphones stuffed in his ears, blind to the outside noise. How lucky.

“Yeah, good thing you don’t live together or anything, Matt.” It has his total attention, “no need for that hostility, honey. If you want me to ask, I’ll ask.” It’s the right move, and he played right into Ally’s hand. A cluster of kisses to his cheek, “thank you, Matty. Love you.” A smile’s back on his face, his reward was his request being honored.

The second Ally’s out of earshot you laugh at her boyfriend. “She plays you like a fool.”

Matt doesn’t care one bit. “Yeah, love makes you do that. You’ll find out, she-devil.”

You just hope you’re not the fool.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13TH, QUEENS, NEW YORK.

A six car pileup on the bridge caught Spider-Man’s attention, adrenalin courses his veins, any traces of that six egg omelet from Linda weighing him down vanishes. A screech of his name, he clocks it instantly. A woman, barely fourty. Spider-Man knows who it is, it’s the reporter that called him a Spider-Menace last week. Oh, how the mighty fall.

A head tilt at the woman, she’s panicking. Thrashing in her seat, crumpled between glass and leather. She’s begging him for help, he watches for a moment before speaking over the screams. “Calm down, I’m gonna help you. Just felt like being a menace.” Tears, she speed runs apologies, tells him it’s just a job and her son loves him.

“Alright, alright, come here.’ A grown woman, clinging to his hip is almost comedic. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Spider-Man doesn’t need to hear it a million times, it doesn’t mean much to him after the first one. “You’re alright, just wait over here for the fire department, okay?”

There’s countless other shouts, he’s already running back up the freeway. Spider-Man has no plans to stay in the city after this, no, instead Peter is going to take the long train back and listen to a podcast. But right now, Spider-Man has a job to do.

CATHEDRAL HALL.

Three copies of the same page, everyone calls a name.

Ally starts, “I call Conner Frise.”

Prince next, “Sam Mason.”

Ally pokes your shoulder, “c’mon, what’s your pick?”

You pretend to think about it, two pairs of eyes waiting expectantly. You grin, “Isaac Barns.” Confidence spills, “and I’m gonna win.”

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

Peter’s clouded in infatuation. If he was animated, he’d have hearts and stars swirling around his head. Maybe it was the booze that had him feeling so loose, for once dropping the urge to push you away, and to pull you closer. Or maybe it was you. All he could smell was your perfume, it choked him in the right ways. Something he’d be smelling long after you were gone, something that made him want to breathe in against your neck.

You haven’t left him alone all night, circling back over and over until all he could think about was you, you, you.

He didn’t know a neck could be so pretty, how he’d kiss over your pulse and hope it would race as much as his. And he never really noticed hair, until it framed your face. Peter was never much on picking up sounds, but now he’s heard your laugh, the one he pulled from you, he’d never be able to unhear it.

And your voice. It whispered a song into his ears, it sent him leaning in, begging for more of the inflections. Peter didn’t care what you were talking about, as long as you were speaking to him, he’d listen. He wasn’t one to notice clothes, only when they fit just right or left little to the imagination. But on you, everything was your color.

Peter can’t think of anything else but your lips, they’re puffed while you spin words. Velvet tumbles produced, hints of a smile around your ‘S’s. It’s like you don’t notice him getting closer, as he steps forward, you step back. You weren’t trying to escape, it was subconscious, you were making more room for him, you don't realize he doesn't want space.

“It was really kind of sad, because the whole time you were rooting for the main character,” he’d asked you about a book he saw in your room. He doesn’t really care about it.

“Right,” one step closer.

“But then it all comes down at the end and you realize he really wasn’t a good guy,” Peter takes another step, your back brushes the brick wall. Little pricks dig into your shirt, it doesn’t stop you.

“And then?”

You smile, “this is where it gets good,” Peter leans his hand on the wall next to your head, you make no notice. “It is.” It’s more of a statement than a question, he’s relaying it to his own situation.

“You find out he set up his friend,” it was the twist, you’d been setting it up, but Peter has no reaction. You wonder if he was even listening to you, maybe it would’ve been better if he had read it himself.

“Are you listening to me? Cause I just kind of just spoiled the whole thing.”

Peter can’t stop himself, he leans in. His head hangs low, you raise your chin to look in his eyes. How have you still not picked up on his hints? “Why’d he set him up?” You hum, a sparkle forms in your eyes, he was listening.

“Well, if we're talking about my personal analysis, I think it’s cause-”

Your lips are pillowy, puffed under his mouth as they’re wrapped around your words. Your skin is warm under his hands, he can feel your hips burning his palms over your clothes. Peter tugs you closer while simultaneously pushing you further into the brick, when you hum into his kiss, he licks your bottom lip.

Open mouth kisses, your hands tug at the curls on the back of his neck, he’s not one for girls playing with his hair. But you, he wants you to touch wherever you want. He can’t fucking breathe, but he doesn’t care, you’re enough of a breath of fresh air. Peter feels more alive in this moment than he has in a long time.

You pull from him, puffs of air tumble. Peter’s desperate for more, you’re just so sweet. Wet marks dot from your jaw to your neck, your hands tug at the lapels of his flannel. “Peter,” it’s breathless, he wonders if it’s the kiss or him.

Hands tuck under your thighs, you gasp as you’re pulled up to equal height on the wall. Your legs loosely straddle his waist, nails digging into his shoulder when he hums over the middle of your throat between gentle bites and smoothing his tongue over the attack. “Fuck,” it’s a whimper, you don’t mean to, but fuck.

Maybe he shouldn’t have cornered you like this, but what’d you expect looking at him like that?

Peter retraces his steps, all you can think is that he tastes as sweet as he feels. It was everything you’d been pining for, and more. You were screaming in color, each grip of his hands felt like water paint, soaking deep and spreading.

Would it be selfish if you wished he felt the same?

“Parker, you out here?”

You squeak, your feet hit the ground. Peter’s head is spinning, his instinct to get as far away as possible. “Yeah,” it’s airy. He clears his throat, you look over his face, he’s avoiding eye contact. “Peter,” you feel a jolt when he backs away. A stab when he steps around the corner, you try to follow, he’s quicker.

You feel everything crumble when you realize he doesn’t want anyone to know he was with you.

“Where you at? We’re mixing everclear for the PNM’s.”

“Peter,” it’s on deaf ears. He doesn’t even look at you, how could he kiss you like that and then act like it was nothing? Why would he kiss you like that if it meant nothing?

“Right here,” you watch his back disappear. “Tequila if we’re evil, beer to make them puke.” His frat brother laughs, “you’re a sick man, Parker.”

It really, really doesn’t feel nice to be left behind in the cold. Especially when he just made you feel so warm. And it really doesn’t feel right when you want to cry, and it feels humiliating when you give him a grace period, just so you didn’t follow him from the back of the house. Just so no one would see you, just so no one would know what just happened.

Just so you could keep it to yourself.

You feel nothing when a shoulder hits yours, your fingers feel hot from the contrast of the breezy outdoors to the crowded, humid room of bodies. Ally’s arm hangs over your neck, you want to scream.

Peter’s eyes catch your frown, he should’ve done more. But if he doesn’t understand anything, how would his frat brothers? He feels bad, and a little more sober than he should be, a little too sober to have done what he just did. A line of shots, Peter adds an two extra, but he doesn’t add everclear, he chooses Fireball.

A pink, plastic shot glass slid in front of you. You look up, Peter’s waiting and watching, he raises his own. “Cheers, freshman.” It’s something, he’s waiting on your call, you’re so close and you can’t blow it now. You plaster on a smile and shake Ally’s arm off, you raise it up.

“Cheers, Parker.”

Peter must’ve had more than he thinks, because wow, what a gross feeling.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

Peter does his best to be a good person, part of that is knowing when you fuck up. And what he did at his party on friday, was a fuck up. It wasn’t that he particularly cared about you, or your feelings, but he could admit that he pulled a shitty move. So shitty he dodged you the rest of the night and left you high and dry with his answer about your favor.

You didn’t even have a way to try and contact him, other than beating down his door but even you knew that would be a bad idea. Which leads him to now, standing on the front lawn, with thirty two potential pledges.

Peter’s turn to bid. A terrible idea. But all he could think about was getting back in your good graces and how much it fucking annoyed him to want that. Peter can feel Trent’s eyes burning into him, he takes a step forward, boldness in his chest.

“I bid Isaac Barns.”

It would either be the worst or best decision of his life and for whatever reason, you’re worth the gamble.

CATHEDRAL HALL

its.parker requested to follow you.

Your eyes widened, suddenly you’re very awake. Peter’s the one that kissed you, Peter’s the one that walked away, Peter’s the one that ignored you. Peter’s the one that followed you. Mixed messages, but it proved something. It wasn’t his main with ten pictures, it was his personal, his finsta, the one full of his personality.

You nibble on your bottom lip, it shouldn’t be that easy for him. Tapping on his account you hit the request button, just because you follow him doesn’t mean he gets to follow you. Mind spinning, you replay friday night again.

The tension eased and multiplied in one action. Peter had made you feel butterflies in the deepest pits of your stomach, when he kissed down your neck, when he wrapped your legs around his waist, when he went in for more, when he kissed you first.

Even thinking about it makes your cheeks hurt from a grin, you squeal out and kick your feet in your bed. Peter Parker kissed you, and it meant something. It had to, something tells you that Peter doesn’t jump without thinking.

Peter’s holding his breath while refreshing his page, still no notifications. He’s worried he blew it that night, not that it matters, it was just a kiss. Everyone kisses, if you really think about it, kisses don’t mean much. At least that’s what he tells himself.

spider.luvr66 requested to follow you.

If he acts now, he’d be a bit crazy. You hadn’t responded to him, but he doesn’t care. He’ll wait a couple minutes, then respond. It feels like his brain is melting, he’s not supposed to, and doesn’t feel like this. It’s against who he is now.

But, fuck, you make it difficult for him to not think about you. Peter swears you’re a witch.

Accept. spider.luvr66 is now following you.

Follow request accepted, you are now following its.parker.

You sit up, it was quick, you wonder if he was waiting for the notification. It doesn’t matter, you have the Peter Parker bible in your hands, and you were about to do some research.

You finally had access to his posts, and you were about to scroll through every single one. But the most recent one was the most important of all. A picture of Peter, crossed arms back to back with a slightly familiar face. The caption told you everything you needed to know about Peter.

‘big brother season.’

You had your bid and he posted the proof.

Whatever he did friday was forgiven. That wasn’t who he was, but this, putting himself on the line for you, this was his true character and whether he wanted you to notice that or not, you did.

And it was a bold act for a guy who pretended he didn’t kiss you breathless.

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x you #frat!peter parker #frat!peter #uni #my writing

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liver-f4ilure · 2 months

Text

The Charleston Church Shooting: Dylann Roof

*NOTE! This is a repost! And it will look familiar CAUSE IVE POSTED IT ON ANOTHER ACCOUNT!! Is it the best? No.*

—

Early life/ Prior convictions

Dylann was born April 3rd 1994 to mother Amelia and father Franklin with 2 sisters Amber and Morgan. During early childhood his parents would divorce and his father would later remarry. His stepmother accused his father of abuse. He would beg his step mother to let him live with her but she wasn’t able to. Dylann would be described to have obsessive compulsive tendencies with germs. In middle school he would stop caring about school and started smoking weed and drinking vodka. In nine years he would have attended seven schools. In 2010 he would drop out of Highschool and continue playing video games and smoking weed and drinking.

(The Roofs home)

In 2015 he was caught with an invalid prescription for suboxone at a mall to which he was banned from for a year. Later that year he was caught loitering in the mall to which they searched his car finding a forearm grip for a AR-15 semiautomatic rifle and six unloaded magazines capable of holding 40 rounds each but was let off it was legal in the state. Roofs Suboxone charge was mishandled and a system error took it as a misdemeanour instead of a felony. Which would have possibly prohibited him from purchasing the firearm.

(The flag of Rhodesia)

Later Dylann would look into the Trayvon Martin case and from an unknown article concluded Zimmerman was in the right. He then fell down a rabbit hole of black on white crime and misinformation. He then found 4chan and would find even more misinformation and hard right ideologies Dylann states he hasn’t been the same since that day. Which leads to his manifesto titled ‘The last Rhodesian’ Rhodesia being the African state founded in 1965 ran by primary Europeans and a white supremacy ideology before being abolished in 1979. The term now sticks with white supremac!sts like Dylann had became, as he also used the flag on his jacket. In preparation before the attack he looked up black churches and found the Emanuel Methodist Episcopal Church and would scout the area and ask around about mass times.

The shooting

(The Emanuel Methodist Episcopal Church)

June 15th 2015 somewhere around 8:00pm Dylann entered the church, once he did he was greeted by Rev.Pinckney and given a bible to study with. Roof was sat next to Pinckney as the study continued. As the study closed and the ending pray started Roof stood up and pulled out his Glock 41 .45 calibre handgun and began shooting. Killing Pinckney first. Then 26 year old Tywanza Sanders stood up to plead with Dylann before he said ‘I have to do it. You rape our women and you’re taking over our country and you have to go’ he then shot and k!lled Sharonda Singleton, Dr. Daniel L. Simmons, Ethel Lee Lance, Cynthia Hurd, Myra Tompson and Tywanza Sanders. Dylann would reload 5 times that day. Polly Shepherd was spared when he asked her if he shot her yet to which she replied no he then told her ‘good cause we need someone to survive because I’m gonna shoot myself and you’ll be the only survivor. He then turned the gun on himself realizing he was out of ammo. He then left the church to the surprise there wasn’t anyone outside. The next day the police confirmed the gunman was 21 year old Dylann Roof with witnesses reporting they saw him drive towards Shelby, a town close to Charleston. At 10:44am Roof was arrested at a traffic stop in Shelby where it was then confirmed he worked alone.

(The victims)

The Trial

Five days after the shooting the grand jury announced that Roof was being indicted for 33 federal charges.

12 counts hate crime against black people

12 counts obstructing the exercise of religion

9 counts murder using a firearm.

On June 6th Roof reportedly did not want to be trialed by jury and instead let the judge decide if he was guilty and if the death penalty was reasonable. August 23rd Roofs lawyers called the motion of death penalty unconstitutional and asked to reject the motion. On September 1st an on camera hearing was held in case of outbursts. December 7th 2016 the trial started. During a survivor statement Roofs mom collapsed as she had a heart attack. After 3 days of the trial FBI played a video on which he admitted to laughing and drinking while describing to friends how he’d shoot the church. To which his friend didn’t report to police and said he was drunk and took his keys and Glock that was on him. After 2 hours the jury found him guilty on all 33 charges. Roof wanting to plead guilty but told not to by lawyers.

(Roof at his video hearing)

January 10th 2017 Roof was sentenced to the death penalty,death by lethal injection.

#tc community #tcc columbine #tccblr #true cringe community #tcc tumblr #dylannstormroof #info post #informative #information #eric columbine #dylan columbine #eric and dylan

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sexy-monster-fucker · 3 months

Text

Casual

Baby Billy Freeman x Reader

Summary: Reader has been a close friend of the Freeman Family her whole life. She and Baby Billy have to hide their intimacies out of fear of Aimee-Leigh getting angry. Running around in secret can only last so long after all.

cw: oral f!receiving, fingering, angst

a/n: Reader and Baby Billy are in their mid to late twenties(?), this is prior to Eli and Aimee-Leigh getting married. Also omg a smut piece with a plot? We love it.

~~~

Heads bowed as Eli Gemstone prayed over the food you were about to eat.

You sat at the Freeman’s family table after Church on Sunday, like you had been doing for years now. Beside your lifelong best friend, Aimee-Leigh. You had grownup alongside her and her family.

“Amen!” Everyone proclaimed in unison.

You sat between Aimee-Leigh and her brother, Baby Billy. The round table giving everyone view of each other. You all made your plates, passing around the giant bowls of food. You passed it along to Baby Billy. He made sure his fingers touched and lingered on yours as you handed it to him. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he winked at you.

You and Baby Billy had had a secret fling going on for years. Sneaking off at almost every family function to see each other. Kissing behind bushes, down on your knees behind trees deep in the woods, sometimes just hiding somewhere so you could sit and talk without the fear of people talking. Or the fear of Aimee-Leigh hating you both. You both decided it never had to be anything serious.

You squinted your eyes at him, smirking in response.

“So, Baby Billy, you think you’re ever gonna find yourself a lady to settle down with?” Eli asked, pulling Baby Billy’s attention off you. His mouth hung open slightly, “Uh— n-nope. Not yet anyway, Eli. I’ve got time before I have to— um— find anyone.”

“You aren’t getting any younger, son,” his father chimed in, not looking up from his plate.

“Well now that dear ole Aimee-Leigh has found the one, it’s about time for you too. I mean, what about Y/N? Y’all have known each other since diapers!” His mother agged him along. He choked on the bite of food he was taking. Hand jumping up to cover his mouth and cheeks that were growing red. You both grew extremely embarrassed and quick. Mouthfuls of “um”s and “well”s falling from you both as you awkwardly looked at each other.

“Mama, don’t say things like that,” Aimee Leigh glared at their mom slightly.

“I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” their mother threw her arms up, giggling slightly.

“Ooo what about that one Baker girl from Sunday school? She was talking about you the other day, Baby Billy!” his sister teased. Your face flooded with jealousy. Choking on your water slightly.

“Woah, Y/N. You alright?” Aimee-Leigh asked, passing a napkin to you. Water dripped down your face and chest.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” You excused yourself from the table, heading to the bathroom down the hall. You stood alone in the small bathroom, lower back pressed against the cold countertop of the sink. Two shadows of shoes was your cue to quietly open the door. Deep hazel eyes stared at you, white teeth forming a silent grin. Turning the handle to discretely close the door behind him.

“Hi, Baby,” you breathlessly whispered, a smile all over your face. Rough hands cubbed both sides of your face, lips crashing into yours. Tongue darting into your mouth, exploring the familiar taste.

“Hi, darlin’,” Baby Billy rested his forehead against yours, smile matching yours. His hands ghosted up your sides, feeling every inch of you. His lips pressed into your neck. A small moan fell from you. His pelvis pinned yours against the cabinet under the sink.

“You performed really good today, Baby,” you complimented him. Your hand dancing on his back.

“Thank you, babydoll,” he kissed up your neck resting his lips on your jaw. He bunched some of your dress in his hand, “You wore the dress I love, I had to put on the best performance for you.”

After the first time you all had found yourself snuck away from his family, things escalated. You were both young and had been dancing around each other your whole lives. When Aimee-Leigh’s Birthday Party rolled around, somehow you both ended up sneaking into your special hiding spot in the woods around the lake. Sitting together on the small overhang of land that oversaw the beautiful, moonlit water. You would come here often to think.

“You know Aimee-Leigh will kill me if she finds out we did this,” Baby Billy caressed your face, a tender kiss being planted on your lips.

“She’d kill me too, Baby,” you laughed quietly. He joined you laughing. He wrapped his arm around you, your head falling onto his shoulder. Hands gripped you tightly against his side.

“This isn’t… like we aren’t gonna…” he sighed, his words fighting him.

You felt your heart shatter in your chest, stomach doing a flip. Your eyebrows furrowed, unable to hide your thoughts. You leaned up to look him in the eyes.

Baby Billy stared into your eyes, all words completely leaving him. His mouth ran dry. Silence as you both stared back and forth. No words being spoken, but you both understood.

“I— We… can’t do this… to Aimee-Leigh,” Baby Billy softly spoke. You fought the tears forming in yours eyes. Planting a false closed mouth smile on your face. “I want to,” Billy’s eyes darted between yours and your lips, “I’ve wanted you for a long time, Y/N. But…”

“We can just keep it like this, Baby,” you looked forward at the water. Fireflies danced in front of you.

Baby Billy’s gaze stayed on you. If this was the only way he could have you, this would be good enough.

It had to be.

You giggled as he pecked kissed down to your collar bone. He took a deep breath against your skin, “And you wore the perfume I like? Shit, you’ve been thinking of me.”

Baby Billy placed his lips back to yours. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Your hands ghosted up his chest, wrapping around his neck. He ran his hands behind your thighs, urging you to get hop up onto the countertop. “Lemme get a better look atcha,” Baby Billy smacked the back of your thighs.

You propped yourself on the countertop, spreading your legs and allowing him access to stand between them. He ran his hands up your legs, checking your body out completely. Your skin tingled at his touch. His body was flush against yours. “Goddamn, I can feel how warm you are,” Baby Billy smiled at you, breath hitching in his throat.

His hands began pulling your dress up to reveal your panties. Stained with the arousal pooling inside you. Bright white teeth curved into a smirk. “You sure are pretty,” Baby Billy complimented staring down at your clothed core. Heat decorated your face.

Baby Billy kneeled down in front of you, hands guiding you to spread wider for him. He shoved your cotton panties to the side revealing your aching entrance. His head tilted for a moment, taking in the full view. Eyes shot up at you before softly pressing a finger to your nub. Your knees locked with the sensation, hand going to cup your mouth to hide the loud moan begging to escape.

“You did such a good job last time on getting Baby Billy off, I think it’s time I repay you for it,” his hot breath felt cold against your core. He plunged a finger into you, curling and pumping it. Your chest heaved with every deep breath you took. Squeaks of pleasure pouring through your fingers.

“As much as I wanna hear your pretty voice, I need you to keep quiet, sweetheart. Let Baby Billy take care of you,” he pulled his finger, replacing it with his mouth. You practically melted when you felt his tongue working magic on your sensitivity. Lust blown eyes stared up at you, his mouth sucking on you. Your breath was shaky as he stared you in the eyes. You rested your head against the wall behind the sink. Enjoying the ecstasy he was giving you.

The coil inside you was winding up with each lap of his tongue. He knew just how to get you there. You rolled your hips against his mouth, getting a grin from him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, you sure are being greedy,” Baby Billy teased you. He stood up, lips finding their place against yours. Your taste strong on him. His fingers found their way inside you again, thumb rubbing circles on your clit. You could feel your body shaking as your orgasm attempted to wash over you.

Your walls began fluttering around him slowly before your orgasm fully took over. You moaned his name into his mouth, Baby Billy deepening the kiss and curling his fingers. Loving the way you constricted around them. “That’s it. That’s Baby Billy’s girl,” he cooed.

“Fuck, Baby,” you huffed out trying to catch your breath.

“You sure do have a dirty mouth, girly,” he smiled.

“Seems to me like you’re the one with a dirty mouth this time,” you teased. He laughed quietly, trying to hide the volume in the room. He planted tender kisses all over your face. You giggled at his soft lips.

Arms found their way back around his neck, your foreheads resting together as you savored the moment. You kissed the tip of Baby Billy’s nose, pulling a happy chuckle from him. He wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you flush against him. His face found its place in your neck, eyes squinting shut as he took in your touch and smell.

The moment passed and Baby Billy helped you off the counter. Fixing your hair and dress for you, making sure you looked the same as before. “There you go, darlin’. Looking as beautiful as ever,” he smiled admiring you standing before him. “Well, better get back before they think something’s goin’ on,” he awkwardly laughed as he attempted to leave.

Hand grabbed the doorknob.

“Baby…” you stopped him. His eyes widened at you, concern written on him, “What is it, sweetheart?”

You swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat. Your body begging you not to do what you were about to do.

“Do you ever think we… we don’t have to hide, whatever this is anymore?” Your eyes stared into his.

“I— I-I don’t… don’t understand,” he stammered. This had worked for y’all for years now.

“Just…” your eyes fell down to the floor, “We’ve been doing this for so long. Are you really still scared about Aimee-Leigh… being mad at us?”

“I-uh- I don’t—“

“Or is that just your excuse so you don’t ever have to commit to me?” You crossed your arms over your chest, holding yourself. Fighting tears that wanted so badly to fall.

“Sweetheart,” Baby Billy took one of your hands in his, “You know… Aimee-Leigh would… you’re her best friend and-and— of course I want you to…” His mind was racing a million thoughts a second. Sweat beamed down his head.

He wanted to be with you. Wanted to call you his in front of everyone. He was so scared of his sister. So scared that she may abandon him over it all. She may leave their singing act. Just run off with Eli and never speak to him again. Somehow he would be in the wrong for being with the one he loves. And he did.

You placed a hand on his chest. His mind instantly calmed down. Body melting at your touch slightly. Desperate eyes looked into yours for an answer.

“It’s okay, Baby Billy. I know your family is the most important thing,” you fought your natural urge to frown.

“Y/N, please—“

“I’ll be alright,” you hushed him. Tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. You forced a smile that you know he knew was fake, “Just go-on back out there with them. Sounded like Aimee-Leigh’s already got someone picked out for you anyway.”

Baby Billy’s brows furrowed heavily. His jaw hanging open. You wanted to beg him to stay. Beg him to wrap you up in his arms and stay here with you for the rest of the day. Small kisses and longing looks being shared. But that wasn’t what needed to be.

You reached around behind him, quietly opening the door for him to exit. Your eyes told him to go. He hurriedly walked out, too embarrassed to look back at you. He stormed off down the hall opposite direction of the family dining area.

You closed the door, leaning against the back of it. It all washed over you. Tears burned down your cheeks. Hand cupping your mouth as to not cry too loud. This was how it has to be. And you had to be okay with it.

You composed yourself and exited the bathroom. Joining everyone back at the table, noting that Baby Billy was missing.

“Where’d he go?” You questioned Aimee-Leigh.

“Dunno. Boy stomped down the hallway. Probably went up to his room,” his father answered.

“Oh,” you responded trying to seem nonchalant.

The sun went down and the cool southern air washed over the land outside. A small fog painted over the lake. You sat outside with Aimee-Leigh and Eli around the fire pit. Wrapped up in the blanket Mrs. Freeman had made you for Christmas a few years back. The couple whispered back and forth silently. Eli’s eyes darted over to you as he nudged Aimee-Leigh.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” Aimee-Leigh asked you shyly.

You sat up slightly, fixing your posture. “Why, yeah,” you lied, attempting to laugh off her question.

“Ever since you came back from the bathroom earlier you’ve just seemed… off. Did something happen that you didn’t tell me about? You’re my best friend, I want you to be able to talk to me, Y/N,” Aimee-Leigh furrowed her expression as you spoke to you.

“I’m fine, Aimee-Leigh. Sometimes you just have one of those days, y’know?”

The front door creaked open. Baby Billy walked out carrying a fold out chair. Planting it directly beside you. Your attention was now on him. He sat, scooting the chair as closely as he could to yours. He reached under your blanket, taking your hand in his. Fingers intertwining on top of the blanket.

“You don’t have to do this,” you attempted to whisper to him.

Aimee-Leigh and Eli looked at each other, a small bit of confusion on their expressions.

“Aimee-Leigh,” Baby Billy cleared his throat, “I’ve been keeping a secret from you. A secret that has done nothing but hurt the girl I care about most.”

Heat radiated off your body with his words.

“Y/N and I have been seeing each other for a long, long time. I’ve been too afraid to tell you, but I can’t keep hiding this beautiful woman from the world anymore. She’s my girl, and I’m sorry if that upsets you, but—“

“OH MY GOODNESS! I cannot believe you both didn’t tell me!” Aimee-Leigh rushed over to you, pulling you into a hug, then giving Baby Billy the same treatment. You both stared at each other, extremely confused by Aimee-Leigh’s reaction.

“Praise be to God! I prayed and I prayed and I PRAYED that you both would find each other. I knew you and Baby would be perfect for each other,” Aimee-Leigh jumped up and down with joy.

You shook your head in disbelief, slack-jawed completely. You looked at Baby Billy, a giant smile painted his face. Hazel eyes caught yours. He sighed deeply. Complete relief falling off his shoulders.

“We thought you’d be so angry at us,” Baby Billy chuckled in disbelief.

“Angry? Why would I be angry? I’ve always wanted to call you my sister, Y/N,” Aimee-Leigh pulled Eli into a hug. “You were right, Eli. He said he could see the spark between you’ns!”

You all laughed together.

Baby Billy wrapped his arm around you, tucking himself under the blanket with you. You rested your head on his shoulder, your hand against his chest. You watched the embers float into the sky off the fire.

Baby Billy placed a small kiss on your head.

This was where you wanted to be.

~~~

~ Thank you for reading! The Righteous Gemstones has genuinely became one of my favorite shows. I have another Baby Billy fanfic planned, so if you are interested in being tagged in any of my future works or have requests let me know! ~

[tags]

@megangovier ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @justme12200 ~ @heif ~ @itsyellow ~ @cat-shepard ~ @dichromaniac ~ @hiddlebatchedloki ~

#baby billy freeman #baby billy x reader #baby billy smut #fanfic #sexymonsterfics #walton goggins #walton goggins x reader #the righteous gemstones #writing

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mypimpademia · 8 months

Text

— Bad Religion

Teen! Gojo x Teen! gn! reader

TW: Light angst, unrequited love (gojo experiences heavy limerence), swearing

Note: Set during Gojos high school years. Based on the song “Bad Religion” by Frank Ocean.

Gojo Satoru may be god among men, but gods pray too.

He’s worshipped you since the moment he laid eyes on you, he’d kiss the ground you walk on and lay in your path so your feet never touch it.

He wasn’t sure if you didn’t know or didn’t care, but he was so entirely devoted to you that it didn’t even matter.

“It’s never gonna happen.”

Suguru’s voice fell on deaf ears, his friend far too focused on his so called “one true love”. He was practically burning holes into you with his stare, but the thought of you catching him didn’t cross his mind.

“Stop being creepy,” Suguru spat, nudging Satoru to catch his attention this time.

Satoru kissed his teeth, “I am not being creepy,” he defended. “Don’t they look incredible today?”

Suguru couldn’t help but cringe at the lovesick expression on Satoru’s face. It was dramatized with the intent of aggravating him, but he knew better than anyone that it was still very real.

“You say that everyday.”

It’s true, Satoru did say that everyday. But it wasn’t his fault you always looked so incredible.

Before Suguru could even blink, Satoru was on you like a magnet.

“Hey Toru,” your voice rang like a church bell. You missed it, but the staggering 6’3 boy’s knees buckled at the sound for a moment.

“You wanna go get boba with me later?” He was so enthusiastic, practically bursting at the seams with glee.

You felt bad saying no.

“Sorry Toru, I can’t today,” you frowned, and so did he. “Nanami is helping me study after school today, but another time, yeah?”

Satoru could feel hot spit pooling at the back of his throat, the thought of you being with someone else when you should’ve been with him made him sick. Nanami was his friend, but in that moment, he wished unspeakable things upon him.

“Toru, are you okay?” You asked, waving a hand in his face.

“I’m fine,” he’s not. “I was just thinking of when I’m free next,” he’s always free for you.

“Of course, just let me know, m’kay?” You smiled, and that was more than a blessing to him.

Satoru both couldn’t fathom and couldn’t stop imagining the thought of you being with someone else. How could you do that to him?

How could you do that to him when he was so in love with you, so devoted? He’d get on his knees if you asked, pray if you wanted, give you his life if you wanted, how could you?

Satoru had always heard that prayer was the only thing that could save someone, but as far as he was concerned, you were the only one he wanted to pray to.

Whether loving you was a cult or a religion, if you had no followers, he was as good as dead.

But unrequited love is nothing but a one man cult, and it’s a bad religion to love someone who could never love you.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated, follow for more <3

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @zairene @planetlunaa @rynfiles @szaplsdropthealbum @dreampurpledreams @goldenglow149 @whats-humanity-lol @pinksilk @gender-queery @dcvilxswish @roaringlion @kxtsxkii

Send in an ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

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org4n-failur3 · 5 months

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The Dylann Roof case- In Depth

I DO NOT SUPPORT. THIS IS INFORMATIONAL!

Pls reblog incase I get trmed!

Dylann was born April 3rd 1994 to mother Amelia and father Franklin with 2 sisters Amber and Morgan. During early childhood his parents would divorce and his father would later remarry. His stepmother accused his father of abüse. He would beg his step mother to let him live with her but she wasn’t able to. Dylann would be described to have obsessive compulsive tendencies with germs. In middle school he would stop caring about school and started smoking weed and drinking vodka. In nine years he would have attended seven schools. In 2010 he would drop out of Highschool and continue playing video games and smoking weed and drinking.

Later Dylann would look into the Trayvon Martin case and from an unknown article concluded Zimmerman was in the right. He then fell down a rabbit hole of black on white crime and misinformation. He then found 4chan and would find even more misinformation and hard right ideologies Dylann states he hasn’t been the same since that day. Which leads to his manifesto titled ‘The last Rhodesian’ Rhodesia being the African state founded in 1965 ran by primary Europeans and a white supr3macy ideology before being abolished in 1979. The term now sticks with white supremac!sts like Dylann had became, as he also used the flag on his jacket. In preparation before the attack he looked up black churches and found the Emanuel Methodist Episcopal Church and would scout the area and ask around about mass times.

June 15th 2015 somewhere around 8:00pm Dylann entered the church, once he did he was greeted by Rev.Pinckney and given a bible to study with. Roof was sat next to Pinckney as the study continued. As the study closed and the ending pray started Roof stood up and pulled out his Gl0ck 41 .45 calibre handgûn and began sh00ting. Killing Pinckney first. Then 26 year old Tywanza Sanders stood up to plead with Dylann before he said ‘I have to do it. You r4p3 our women and you’re taking over our country and you have to go’ he then wh0re and k!lled Sharonda Singleton, Dr. Daniel L. Simmons, Ethel Lee Lance, Cynthia Hurd, Myra Tompson and Tywanza Sanders. Dylann would reload 5 times that day. Polly Shepherd was spared when he asked her if he shot her yet to which she replied no he then told her ‘good cause we need someone to survive because I’m gonna sh00t myself and you’ll be the only survivor. He then turned the gûn on himself realizing he was out of ammo. He then left the church to the surprise there wasn’t anyone outside. The next day the police confirmed the gûnman was 21 year old Dylann Roof with witnesses reporting they saw him drive towards Shelby, a town close to Charleston. At 10:44am Roof was arrested at a traffic stop in Shelby where it was then confirmed he worked alone.

Five days after the sh00ting the grand jury announced that Roof was being indicted for 33 federal charges.

12 counts hate crime against black people

12 counts obstructing the exercise of religion

9 counts mûrd3r using a firearm.

On June 6th Roof reportedly did not want to be trialed by jury and instead let the judge decide if he was guilty and if the d3ath penalty was reasonable. August 23rd Roofs lawyers called the motion of d3ath penalty unconstitutional and asked to reject the motion. On September 1st an on camera hearing was held in case of outbursts. December 7th 2016 the trial started. During a survivor statement Roofs mom collapsed as she had a heart attack. After 3 days of the trial FBI played a video on which he admitted to laughing and drinking while describing to friends how he’d sh00t the church. To which his friend didn’t report to police and said he was drunk and took his keys and gl0ck that was on him. After 2 hours the jury found him guilty on all 33 charges. Roof wanting to plead guilty but told not to by lawyers.

January 10th 2027 Roof was sentenced to d3ath penalty, and d3ath by lethal injection.

NOTE: if I get anything wrong please tell me! This was from an old project I had.

-Vivi

#info post #information #dylannstormroof #dsr #tccblr #tc community #tcc columbine #vivi stfu

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caraetdeul · 4 months

Text

A Bouquet of Breakdowns

Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Sometimes, life is a bride that just gives a whole ass bouquet of problems in one throw.

TW: breakdowns, stressed reader

a/n: hi so this is more of a self-indulgent fic. I've been so stressed lately and I may have inserted my own situation in this fic in a very detailed way too much, so sorry bout that. But other than that, hopefully everything's good at your end of the screen but if not, hopefully this fic will help you in any way possible. Enjoy reading caratdeuls!

~Main Masterlist~

I’ve got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine

I got a love and I know that its all mine, oh oh

Do what you want but yo—

Seungcheol groaned, trying to reach out for his phone on his nightstand in his sleepy state. Letting you change his ringtone to this song may be a mutual decision for the sake of comedic timing but right now, all he wants is to just throw his phone out the window.

“Whoever decided that 2 o’clock in the morning was a good time to call was definitely gonna taste the wrath of a sleep deprived Cheo—”

“Oh thank God you answered!”

He paused for a second, his brain trying to comprehend the urgency in your brother’s voice. Once his brain caught up to the moment, he sat up immediately.

“What do you mean, Chan?”

“I’ve been trying to call noona for 30 minutes now and she’s still not answering her phone. I’m panicking right now hyung. I don’t know what to do!” Cheol can already hear Chan’s pacing from his end of the line and knew that he was already at the brink of a panic attack.

“Hey, hey, hey calm down for a bit. What do you mean you’ve been calling your sister for a while now? Isn’t she in her room probably sleeping right now?”

“That’s the thing! She isn’t! I went in her room to borrow something from her but when I entered, she wasn’t there! Oh god, this can’t be happening right now.”

“Okay, breathe Chan. I’ll go help find her. Do you have any idea where she might have gone to?”

He heard Chan take a deep breath before answering slightly more calmly than before, “Try the park behind the church. I do remember her telling me something about the garden there and how she goes there sometimes.”

“Okay, thanks Chan.” Cheol stood up, immediately searching the vicinity for a shirt and his wallet and keys.

“Wait, I’m coming with you.” He can already hear a door slam shut before Chan even finished his sentence.

“No, stay there in case she comes back. I’ve got this.” The call went silent for a bit and Cheol can feel his hesitance to follow his instructions. But even then, Chan knew he was right and can only sigh in agreement.

“Okay, fine. Just call me back once you find her, please.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, hyung. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“No worries, Chan. I’ll do anything for the both of you.”

Once the call ended, Cheol rushed to his car, praying to every single higher being he can remember at the moment that you were alright. He wasn’t really shocked with how your brother reacted to your sudden disappearance. Ever since you were children, all he could remember was how you took care of your little brother all by yourself. Your parents were always too busy for the both of you thus, you were left with all the responsibilities in your home including being a parent for your own brother. Because of this, Chan decided that he was gonna be your protector in any way that he can be. So it was no shock that he would react this way.

It took him around 15 minutes before he reached the town’s church. He parked the car by the sidewalk before walking towards the back of the church where the park is found. Chan didn’t really specify the garden that you mentioned but he had a slight clue as to what it might have been. You were always fond of the hydrangeas that bloomed at this time of the year. He can remember how pretty you looked under the light of the sunset as you explained how hydrangeas can grow in groups but still retain a unique beauty for each flower. He then remembered how you further sprouted random facts about them and all he’s thinking about is how much he loves your nerdy side.

Walking through the park, he tries calling out your name but there were no response. As he neared the garden hidden at the very end of the park, he can slightly hear a melody being played from a phone. Once he got closer to the sound, he sighed in relief when he clearly heard the lyrics to your favorite song. It was only then that he realized how stiff his whole body was from panic, only relaxing when he sees your form lying on the grass and watching the stars above. He sent a text to your brother to let him know you’re safe. As soon as he received a text back, he walked towards your direction, careful not to spook you too much.

“You do know that phones are made primarily for texting and calling, right?” You immediately turned to the direction of the sound, scared for your life. But once you see your boyfriend’s face, you relaxed your hold on your pepper spray and took a deep breath to calm your nerves down.

“What the hell, Choi? You scared the shit out of me.”

“Well to be fair, you scared me first what with you disappearing in the middle of the night and not even telling anyone about it.”

“Okay, fair. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smiled at him in an attempt to look apologetic as he lies down next to you.

“Apology accepted.” Cheol stretched out his arm to you, letting you cuddle up to him, “but i can’t promise any forgiveness from your brother any time soon. He was about to burn the whole house down in panic trying to find you.”

“Oh god.” Cheol chuckled at your response. He can already hear the gears in your head running and trying to find an acceptable peace offering for your brother. For a few minutes he let you dwell in your thoughts, knowing all too well that you’ve already moved past that and now deciding on whether or not you would share the whole reason why you’re out here at this time of night.

“So,” Cheol started, “want to talk about it?”

You hummed. Biting your lips, you said the first thing that came into your mind, “I don’t really know where to start.”

“That’s okay. Take your time. We’ve got all night.” His hold on you tightened for a bit, letting you know that he’s there for you no matter what. You don’t know what you did to deserve him but you thank God so much that he let you two meet because you don’t know how you will ever survive this world without him in your life.

“I’m overwhelmed,” you sighed shakily, “everything is too much and I can’t even relax properly. I…”

Cheol scrunched his eyebrows in confusion when you didn’t continue your train of thought only to hear you sniffling and feel your body shake a bit from trying not to cry.

“Its okay, love. Let it out.”

And then the dam broke.

You told him how your work was piling up and everything was just so stressful. You also told him about the disappointment you felt when your workmates left you all alone while struggling to meet a deadline on time when they promised you that they will help. In short, you have vomited every single slight inconvenience and big event in your life that happened in the course of a few days to your boyfriend. Your sweet and caring boyfriend who’s listening intently to every single word you’re saying.

By the time you were done, the sun was beginning to rise. You can hear the sounds of the nature around you waking up as Seungcheol wipes your tears and hug you tightly. You can feel him kiss your hair, stroking it in an attempt to ground you. You both stayed like that for a few more minutes before Cheol made you both sit up to face each other.

“You do know you can share anything with me, right?” He cupped your face with his hands, forcing you to look into his sincere eyes.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So the next time you feel like this, will you please go straight to me?”

You felt your lips quiver due to the intense sincerity that you felt from his words. You observed his face, memorizing every detail and imprinting them into your brain.

“I will.”

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises

Seuncheol smiled in relief before hugging you once again, pulling your head to rest on his chest as he enveloped you with his arms. Maybe you’ll have a hard time letting him be a shoulder for you to cry on but he vows to you and to himself that he will be there to catch you whenever you fall.

#caraetdeul.blr #seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #scoups x y/n #scoups #seventeen angst #seungcheol angst #choi seungcheol x reader #seventeen choi seungcheol

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muxshwriting · 6 months

Text

take me to church

Aleksander Morozova x reader

summary: after you get hurt, Aleksander begins to pray to a higher power he lost faith in long ago || warnings: injuries, angst, questioning faith || words: 581 || masterlist

"Bring her in."

Aleksander watched as a broken and bloody body was dragged into the room by two guards, his face turning thunderous. They threw you to the ground just in front of the him and stood back as you groaned in pain.

"Found this one in a West corridor, trying to break into your chamber General." One of the guards spat.

"Do you have any idea who this is?" Kirigan's voice thundered through the hall. No one had ever heard him so angry. Ivan stepped forward from his post, intent on making the guards suffer. Fedyor, on the other hand, approached you on the floor and wrapped a hand around your wrist, steadying your rapid heart.

The guard swallowed nervously. "She was breaking in to your rooms sir."

Aleksander seemed to only grow angrier. "Regardless of if she was or was not breaking into my rooms, why was this not reported to me?"

"We are reporting it to you now Sir- General. She was taken into custody this morning." The guard seemed to trail off as he realised the hole he had dug for himself.

Aleksander glanced back at Ivan and nodded his head. Within an instant, the two guards were on the floor, dead. He knelt by your side, catching sight of all the cuts and bruises you were sporting. The anger rose once again. They had you for less than four hours and had done immense damage.

"Get me a healer. Now!" Without another word, he gently brought your head onto his knees. He moved a piece of hair from your eyes and cupped your face gently. "How is she?" He whispered to Fedyor, almost scared of the answer.

"She's strong." He reassured. "Her heartbeat is steady and it's getting stronger by the minute. She'll be waking up soon."

He moved his hand from her wrist and let Aleksander's replace it. He clung to your wrist like a lifeline, holding his fingers in to feel your heartbeat and pressing a brief kiss to your knuckles. You stirred. A low groan escaping your lips as you try to shift your battered body.

Aleksander was quick to shush you. "It's alright. Don't move, okay. You're going to be fine."

"Aleks?" Your eyes slowly peeled open, staring up at Aleksander and immediately meeting his gaze, your eyes filling with tears as you did. "Sasha..."

A small smile graced Aleksander's lips as the door opened and Ivan came rushing in with a healer. It truly was a sight to see; the General of the Second Army was kneeling on the ground beside a beaten girl.

"I’m tired." You whispered. A tear slipped down your face.

"It’s okay." Aleksander whispered back. "You’re gonna be fine. Just go to sleep, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up."

To fall in love is to create a religion with a fallible god. And that's exactly what you were, fallible and mortal.

With the reassurement, you fully relax and let your eyes slip shut. Aleksander ran his hand through your hair, the movement sending you to sleep. Even after the healer began to work, he stayed. He watched as your brow furrowed, then relaxed. He would stay from now on.

For the first time in a while, in a long, long while, Aleksander prayed. He had been around to see many Saints rise and fall. Because of that, he had stopped believing long ago. But maybe he should have believed. He would believe now, for you.

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#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #grishaverse #muxshwriting #muxsh #take me to church

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betterfettered · 1 year

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Ok but imagine if the Mc they got was religious.

Like daily prayers, church going. Pretty much full fledged christian ending up in devildom with literal demons.

•Religious!mc who devoted their life to christ getting railed by the demon bros (especially lucifer).

•Religious!mc who was saving themself for marriage can no longer do so after her nights with the boys.

•Religious!mc who wore a cross necklace clutching it around her neck as they get railed from behind.

•Religious mc! who prays for forgiveness after begging for more the night before.

(I’m sorry but corruption kink is top teir + first time doing something like this so idk if it’s like worded correctly)

Anonnamin this ask gels so well with another one that I got about a super sweet MC from my moon anon!

Alright, but imagine this. A cute little reader who is just SUCH a softie Like, they are the type to help old ladies cross the street, volunteer at soup kitchens, work at a bakery, always give the brothers random little gifts that remind them of them, and just wholesome stuff like that. But the poor bby always blames themselves for any problems, like they are such a little ball of sunshine who is always blaming themselves, it's quite sad actually. Like they are always trying to brighten everyone's day and smiling, but if someone even slightly raises their tone at reader, reader will start tearing up and apologizing. They are just such a sweet little thing, and like the entire school absolutely loves them and a lot of people see reader like a little sibling figure. Because of this the brothers absolutely love this innocent cute little reader who only wants to make everyone feel happy and loved, but then their are all the other students at school stealing away reader's attention and protecting reader when they see how obsessive and possessive the brothers are. (Reader has no clue though lol, absentee parental figures gang, don't know what healthy love is ✌) (If the brothers get born mad at reader, reader will cry and isolate themselves because "they aren't enough for them" and "they probably don't wanna deal with me right now", and just close themselves off) Moon anon 🌙

I'm gonna combine the two of them together into an ask about a super saintly MC. 🧚🏿 If you feel like there was something I missed feel free to send in another ask~

It's killing me to imagine a terrified religious!MC waking up and meeting real life villains from the bible LOOOOOL literally wakes up, is introduced to The Actual Lucifer, passes back out again hahahahahha

I mention a trans girl with a dick in this, I don't know if that needs a warning. If you read this and appreciate the warning, please let me know somehow. Otherwise I'm not going to mention this kind of thing again.

(Gn!reader x AMAB!yandere, please let me know if reader is gendered)(noncon)(violence against reader)(gaslighting)(exhibitionism)(drugging)(plus size reader 💖🫡)(blasphemy, but you knew that LOLOL)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Yandere!Lucifer would soon feel pretty protective over an MC like this, especially because he thinks you're so foolish easily taken advantage of. He would also appreciate how obedient you are, it's so much easier than needing to tell his brothers to do or not do things over and over again. In a sense, he would protect you from things that he would do to you himself: he's not going to let concerned students at RAD take up all of your time because he himself is going to take up all of your time. He's not going to let other people order you around but he certainly is going to order you around. Most importantly, he won't let other people force you to live your life one way or another because you will be living life to his exact specifications.

I think on the other hand that he'd be kind of personally offended by your brand of religiousness. It intrinsically paints him as a bad guy and makes his reasoning out to be unjustified which, even if it weren't a sore spot, contradicts what he likes to believe about himself. I think his real cruelty streak would start to show around how he dismisses your beliefs. The first time you earn yourself a bad punishment from him, he'll be determined to hurt and violate you in ways that you would not have been able to imagine before, shoving toys into you that are way, way too big for only your first time, putting chained clamps on your nipples and tugging them until you are hoarse from screaming, forcing orgasm upon orgasm onto you until you it only hurts, paddling you until you're shaking. He'll ask why your God isn't helping you, but no answer you give him will be the right one (earning a larger toy or maybe another paddle): the real answer is because you like what he's doing to you, it's what you've always wanted, and your God knows that.

Yandere!Mammon would be sooo bad with this kind of MC LOL He's such a scammer that he would completely take you for all you're worth. You'd both end up broke and in trouble because of him LOLLL He has a hard time admitting when he's done something shitty, so he might allow you to blame yourself for things quite a bit, maybe even use your low self esteem to guilt you for spending time with other people at school vying for your attention (I'll circle back to this).

I don't think he'd have it on him to outright force himself on you because you're so innocent and sweet. Instead, he'll probably slip a double dose of an aphrodisiac into a snack he serves you and wait for you to come onto him. Imagine always wearing a religious robe and, after being drugged, hurriedly yanking it up in a daze so you can dumbly grind on Mammon's thigh and grab his wrists so you can rub his hands all over your body because you have no idea what to actually do about being horny LOL After he fucks you until you're satisfied, he'll let you think that the entire thing was your idea all along. If you get way too torn up about your sinful thoughts and behavior he might grudgingly admit that maybe you ate something strange. Circling back to the above, he is happy to take advantage of your guilt and naivete but he does have a kernel of morals deep down.

Yandere!Leviathan would be obsessed with your purity and good heartedness. I don't even want to mention her in this context because she is a child but honestly your personality would align with a lot of the kinds of things he likes about Ruri-chan. It's the ideal magical girl: chipper, sweet, always trying to help others etc. He'd be quietly obsessed with your religious behavior: you might be praying and then look up and see him watching you, or when you are helping people with things in public he follows you around and tries to help, too.

Unfortunately, the more he becomes obsessed with your purity, the more dirty thinking about you sexually will become to him, which means it makes him all the hornier LOL You'll start to notice him staring at your body and giving you lingering touches on your legs and shoulders. When he finally can't take it any more, he will want to shield you from the corruption as much as possible. He'll sneak into your room at night with a blindfold, tie it over your eyes and tell you to just go back to sleep. Obviously you wouldn't be able to sleep through someone taking your virginity, so he'll just try to soothe you as you cry even though he's fucking you way too hard because of his inexperience. You feel dirty and bruised once he's done with you, but rather than comfort you, he'll apologize by insulting himself and saying how awful and wicked he is and how you deserve better. You are always inclined to blame yourself, so even though you still feel his handprints all over you and the weird slipperiness between your legs makes you feel disgusting, you'll tell him it's not his fault and wonder what you must have done to provoke him. Levi is one of those people who says "I am a bad person anyway so might as well do it again", so expect the nightly visits to continue. You'll spend them clutching a cross as tightly as you can and praying, sadly unaware that that is only turning him on more.

Yandere!Satan wants to study you like an academic subject and needs to know everything about you that there is to know, so he'd be very very interested in your religion since it's such a big part of who you are. He also doesn't have as much experience with the celestial realm as the other brothers, so is more open to hearing about what is in your Bible since he doesn't have his own beliefs about it. You would literally be doing "Bible study and chill" with him where he listens to you talk about God and read scripture, and you would be so pleased when he seems like maybe he is thinking about converting. After all, to you helping him see the Lord's light is one of the kindest, sweetest things you can do.

That's why when the "and chill" part comes in you would feel so shocked and betrayed. You're sitting on his lap, reading pages out loud to him when you feel his teeth latch onto your neck and his tongue move back and forth over the sensitive skin while he gropes you. Maybe you're confused about his intention, so you ask what he's doing while he pins you face down by your shoulders, pulling your ass up and against him. You'd be confused and trying to explain that this isn't pious at all when he tells you he doesn't believe any of that shit at all and never did, and the shock would be so deep you don't even cry while he pulls your clothes off and throws your Bible to the floor carelessly like it's trash. Like Lucifer, he's the type to ask something like where it says in your scriptures that you should cum all over his face while he gives you head, or to slap you and actually quote Bible passages about meekness to you when you try to resist, asking if you really even believe what you read to him.

Yandere!Asmodeus is going to think how innocent you are is so cute and try to corrupt you immediately. Imagine you have baked some cookies, and you are going to give them out. He'll offer to go with you and then right before you step into the classroom he'll catch you by your waist, pulling your soft body back towards him until his arms are smushing your stomach. Asmo will whisper with his lips against your ear that every one of these people who is vying for your attention because you're so sweet actually just wants to be the first one to breed you, that when you hand them cookies they just think about fucking every hole you have. He'll ask what hole you'd use for which person until you struggle to get out of his arms and run away.

But even when you're gone, you can't help but think of his question every time you hand out a cookie, or in gym when a girl tries to talk to you and you can see her cock through her pants you can't help but think you want to take her in your mouth because it would hurt anywhere else. It's embarrassing and flustering and makes you want to be by yourself, which is a perfect time for Asmo to come and find you, to yank your robe up and point out how aroused you are. He'll narrate what's happening to your body, explaining it's totally natural to feel that way when you want to have sex, and asking who you saw that made you so horny.

He'll do this as long as he needs to until you are begging him to help you with this feeling between your legs that's driving you crazy and makes it hard to sit still in class. When you apologize to god before begging him to fuck you, he'll tell you that there's no need to. God gave you these feelings so you could act on them. He wants you to feel pleasure.

Yandere!Beel would be annoyed with how you let anyone who wants your attention have it, and he'd dislike how you always trust your god to keep you safe instead of him. God lets bad things happen all the time, so in his mind thats a ridiculous system. Whenever he sees you clutching your cross or praying, he will demand to know what it is you're asking for and try to give it to you himself. He thinks religion and your cross is a distraction from your relationship to him, especially since he's met all the people you're talking about and none of them are that special to him. If he wants your attention, he just cuts in to where you are and demands it, even if that means picking you up and carrying you away.

Yan!Beel will always fuck you when his libido outpaces his sense of control, but when he hears you praying he'll be enraged. You don't need that stuff! He'll try to rip your cross off of your neck, but the chain is too strong so he ends up choking you by it. You'd better say that all you need is him, to calm him down. Otherwise, expect him to yank you around by the chain like its a leash, pounding you so hard that you can't catch your breath to pray or beg him to stop. After he cums he'll just jam him fingers into you, stroking you with his other hand until you say what you want.

Listen I love Yandere!Belphie being insane as much as the next cockwhore, but I think he would actually be really, really kind to an MC like this. He went to the human world often to meet new kinds of people since he loves learning about them, so he'd be really comforted by how sweet and gentle you are while also loving how you hold him while he naps and let him tuck his cold feet under you all the time. He likes your prayers because they put him to sleep and give him good dreams.

What would make him snap is the constant attention to other people. He's often waiting for you in bed, so waiting hours and hours just to find out you've been with other people would drive him absolutely crazy. You might be tutoring a few other students and he comes in, seizing you by your hair and slamming your head down onto a desk. You squirm and plead for him to stop, but he'd still rip your clothes off and fuck you in front of them so they know that you are his. Even while you're sobbing he'll say (loud so they can all hear) that he can feel you clenching down on him, so you must love it. You'd turn your head to ask the other demons for help and see most of them with their hands in their pants and their eyes smoldering with lust. The fact that you'd be in so much pain losing your virginity in front of a crowd that you struggle like crazy and pray to be saved just makes the show more interesting.

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