#there’s a new You Rule You Suck board

[raeofgayshine]

Thinking again about the fact that when Eddie and Dustin finally convince Steve to play DnD with the party, all of them, but especially Eddie, quickly become exasperated with Steve who has extremely high charisma, and decides that he can fix almost any situation by flirting with whoever they were in conflict with. Especially the fucking monsters, this man is bound and determined to himself a monster boyfriend and until it happens, he will make every single person they come across fall in love with him. So naturally, this happens a lot:

Steve: I’m going to flirt with them

Eddie, exasperated: Steve, you can’t date this monster, he’s trying to kill you-

Steve: Hot.

Steve: I’ll flirt with them harder then

[angelltheninth]

Hooked On Your Taste

Pairing: Male!Vampire x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, drinking blood, neck kissing, teasing, flirting, cuddles, temperate difference

Word count: 0.9k

Ao3

A/N: Vampire fluff today! Been reading more Morgana and Oz so, I want a short vampire bf!

You were dating a vampire, that was a fact. He never bit you, that was also a fact. And the fact was also that he'd been looking at your neck more and more lately. So much so that you've been tempting him with it, wearing low-cut shirts, deliberately leaning your head to the side when he stood behind you. He groaned every single time.

"Must you wear that?" He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your hips. The many scents of the food cooking mixed with the scent of your blood, but you knew he could still smell it, he could always smell your blood, tell where you are.

"I don't know what you mean. You bought be this shirt. I'm just wearing the lovely gift my boyfriend bought for me." You leaned up to kiss the corner of his jaw. It turned out to be a bad choice to do it while cutting vegetables. "Ouch!" His eyes widened when he saw the drops of blood hit the cutter board. "Damn it!" You sucked on the cut as he moved to get his hands on a band-aid for you. "Thank you."

"Anything for you darling." His smile was tight and painful. You could tell he was digging his fangs into his bottom lip, "Why don't you go sit down. I'll finish up here." Yeah, he had good intentions, but he also didn't get that… you would tell him tonight, after you've eaten.

He ate with you out of courtesy and to hold onto a slight sense of normalcy.

As you got ready for bed you spotted him walking around with a juice box, only this one you knew to be filled with blood, not fruit juice.

"You know you don't have to drink those."

One of his pointed ears twitched, "And do what? Be even paler than I am now? No thank you, if I don't get three of these a day I'll go up in flames." He made an explosion noise before he sucked the last bit through the straw and threw it into the trash.

Even with these meals you still knew he watched your neck every night. You could feel his eyes on your neck as you read your book beside him, cuddled up despite his lower temperature. "You're staring again."

"S-Sorry darling. I'll turn around!" He would have blushed if he were able to. He was truly embarrassed to let these impulses rule him in this day and age, when so much blood was available. The instincts in him however craved your blood, the blood of his lover.

"You can drink my blood. I've already told you that I don't mind." You placed the book down and took his hand in yours. When you placed it on your neck, on your pulse point his eyes flashed a brighter red before returning to his usual dark red. "I'm not saying all day every day, I'm saying that if you really get the craving you can bite me, you can drink from me. I'm your girlfriend."

"But I don't want to take from you." He backed up as you sat in his lap.

You cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, "You're not taking, I'm giving it to you. You only need to ask." You pulled him closer, fingers running through his short hair and guiding his lips to your neck.

They trembled against your skin, barely kissing you. He was hungry for you, but not only your blood, just you, your love. "If I hurt you-"

"You won't. You could have so many times, but you never did. I trust you won't kill or turn me." Perhaps one day when you decided to have kids with him. Just to make sure your body could take the pregnancy and birth, but not yet. Besides there was also adoption, even vampire kids needed new parents.

He ran his lips down your neck, looking for a spot where your scent called for him the most. "Is here okay?" You pulled him closer as a reply. Cold hands gripped your hips, grounding you against him as the pain in your neck got sharper and sharper. All air was stolen from your lungs when his fangs fully sunk into your neck, the pain almost pulsing from the spot, both cold and hot at the same time. "As I thought." He moved to a different spot and bit you again, "You're absolutely delicious my darling."

You weren't sure how long he sucked your blood but after some time you went lightheaded, only registering one more bite before your body slumped down against his.

"Shh, you're alright. I didn't take much, I promise. You'll be alright. I'll buy you some iron supplements tomorrow alright?" He pulled you down on top of him and ran his hands down your back and arms, "Breathe darling, just breathe. Your body will get used to the feeling. I'm very grateful that you let me do this, but I'm afraid that I might get hooked on your taste if I drink too much from you."

"You're already hooked on my taste." You joked while wiggling your hips.

"Fair. A different type of taste then." He placed a long kiss to the top of your head, "I'll still be taking the blood from the bank. But perhaps in special occasions I could take a little bite out of you."

[webslingingslasher]

banner made by: @thursdaygxrls

because of the character count (145,091) and tumblrs format skills (it's shit) i had to adjust some sizing but i wanted all of this in one part.

CHAPTER ONE: BRUJA

PETER PARKER’S FIRST WEEK.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH 

Steve Jobs is lucky he’s dead. 

Because if he wasn’t, he’d have to deal with a pissed off Peter Parker woken up with a brooding hangover by the screeches of marimba. 

Peter wasn’t sure whose idea it was to throw a goodbye summer bash the night before classes started but he wishes them death. A ‘goodbye summer' party, what a dumb fucking idea. It’s college, every day is summer. If he’s picked up anything from being with the frat for two years it’s that they’ll make up any excuse to party. 

International Women’s Day? Guys can only get in if they’re half naked. 

Valentine’s Day? Singles dress as cupid, couples in red and pink. 

Friday the 13th? Horror movie character costumes only. 

St. Patrick's Day? That’s what those guys lived for. 

It didn’t matter what it was, if there was cause for celebration and drinking, it was going to be a party. Trying to ease a headache he rubbed his temples, it did nothing and proved useless when someone banging a spoon and pot in the kitchen made his ears ring. 

“Chapter meeting! Chapter meeting! Chapter-” Peter yelled as loud as he could, “shut the fuck up!” His head throbbed.

God, he fucking hated the start of the year, all the new people coming in sucking up to him and everyone else in the frat. The secondary members used it to their advantage, most of the officers didn’t impress easily, only using them when they felt like laughing at someone desperately trying to please. 

He had to redo the entire budget, and had to run through the same health and safety meeting that would get ignored, and then he’d have to get physical when someone pushed the rules a little too far. 

Peter had a hangover from hell and almost gagged getting up from bed, shuffling towards his bedroom door in just sweatpants. Yawning and scratching at his scalp as he walked down the stairs, he made the routine walk to the meeting room door that was open, a hidden room behind a bookcase, only chapter officers allowed. 

The room was dark, a gigantic oak table took up the center of the room, black leather chairs surrounded. The frats name and logo grinded into the middle. A pool table in one corner, a bar in the back and several leather couches. Peter took his seat and nodded at his friend next to him, the chapter president paced the front of the room with notes, when the last guy entered the door was shut behind him. 

“Welcome to the hunt boys, we waited all year for this.” 

Trent Simpson, chapter president. Deep alumni, the fraternity in his family for generations. 

“Before we start the meeting, please state who you are and your role on the board. Obviously, I’m Trent Simpson, your president.”

“Matt Paul, chapter vice president.” 

“Nick Aaron, secretary.” 

“Ethan Keznek, sergeant-at-arms.” 

“Peter Parker, treasurer and health and safety officer.” 

“Tarrent Bakner, recruitment chairman.” 

“James Hasco, housing officer.” 

“Booker Thomas, membership development.” 

Trent clapped his hands and motioned to the black folder everyone had. “Welcome to the first meeting of our rushing season for Sigma Nu. In each of your folders you’ll see our potential new members, if you don’t see anyone you like, time to tell me is now.” 

Peter eyed the page, only one thing set him off. Ted and Harry Linus, twins. He hated twins, last year he had gotten put in the middle of so many fights he swore he’d never let twins back in his house. 

Peter’s hand jotted up, clicking his pen quickly. “Nix the twins.” Trent crossed out the names with a sharpie, “nixed.” 

“Next are the outline of our weeks with the rush, and hazing schedules. Parker, I want you and Keznek to print up the chapter handbooks.” Ethan held his fist up towards Peter, he tapped his knuckles on his and looked over the schedule. 

“Finally, and this is a new one. I acquired a friend that can get some hard to get info really easily, so what you see in front of you is every fraternity's event.” 

Interesting, that’s a pretty hard thing to get your hands on, let alone fifteen. Fraternity events were highly competitive, and if they had every event in their back pocket they could be number one. 

Peter fought back a yawn, he wanted nothing more than another two hours of sleep. But his day began here, in a chapter officer meeting, on a Tuesday, with a hangover and only time to prepare for class. God, he really didn’t want to go to class today. He can barely remember what he signed up for. 

“... again, that’ll be next Tuesday, and like usual, freshman welcome on Friday. Any more questions before we close?” 

Booker’s hand goes up, “what about the sororities?” 

“Great question, we’ll only be circling with Zeta and Omega.” 

Peter nods approvingly, that’s nice to hear. Last year they partnered with four sororities and even the party guys were getting a little overwhelmed. It sucked they had to use the frat houses for parties but they chipped in and bought way better alcohol, not to mention all the fucking girls, it was truly pick of the litter. 

Matt Paul shoots out, “can we please promise each other right now we won’t have another Sara situation?” 

There was a reason Peter had two positions, Logan Leeman freaked out when Sara Niks dumped him. Actually went full blown nuts and had to be carted off in an ambulance, no one’s heard from him since. 

“God that was awful, I mean, he knew the chick for what, four months?” 

Peter nodded absentmindedly at Nick’s comment, disconnecting from the conversation and running numbers through his head. His attention was brought back when Trent smacked his gavel on the soundblock. 

“We’re back baby, and it’s open fucking season. One, two, three,” 

The brotherhood chanted, “Sig Nu!” 

—------------

Peter’s rinsing shampoo out of his hair when someone bangs on his bathroom door, he calls out over the rushing water, “yeah?” 

“Hey, some of the guys and I are gonna hit up the food hall before we gotta split, you down?” 

He can’t lie, the dining hall is damn good. He’s missed the breakfast burritos, and Linda. She’s been working in the kitchen at the university for over twenty years, he got to talking to her one day and now goes out of his way to give her a hello. He can’t wait to catch up and tell her all about his summer, and fuck, he’d kill for an orange juice. Oh god, he has to do so much grocery shopping. 

“Yeah, give me ten minutes!” As if on command his stomach growls, he’s reminded of his hangover and he has physics in two hours. At least the shower’s warm. It’s his saving grace. 

University has been good on Peter, he looks like he belongs; top dog on campus feels good. He fills out his frat tee better this year, spidey working double time this summer to make up for the slow six months he’s about to have. Heather gray and red detailing, his pants black, and a signature white snapback. He should’ve gotten a haircut, but he chose to drink like an idiot. The night was fun though, it was worth it in the moment. 

Taking a final glance, Peter tucks the chain around his neck into his shirt, and takes a deep breath before his first day of his junior year starts. 

He’s ready.

—----------------

“Did anyone see Trevor slam his head against the wall last night or was that just me?” 

“You mean Lopes?” Peter really wishes he was around to see that. 

Hasco is on level ten, Peter’s convinced he’s off a bump or two of coke, he’s just a tad too twitchy for his liking. “Bro, he just bounced that fucker off the wall. Stared at me and did it. No fucking reason. He’s fucking crazy.” 

Peter snorts, “why, was he off the powder?” He bites down on his bottom lip when his friends toss him around by his shoulders giving soft ‘oo’s’ at his jab. Hasco flips him the bird, “even if he was, that’s fucked up, right?” 

Keznek follows up, “you think he’d do it again if i asked?” 

Nick pipes up, “ten down on yes,” Tarrent raises a finger, “coked up or sober?” 

“Does it matter?” 

Tarrent nods, “fair enough.” 

Peter cuts through the bullshit, “can we please talk about Simpson and the fucking list this year? Thirty two people is such bullshit, at this point it’s just a dick measuring contest with Alpha Delta.” 

Hasco sniffs as he nods his head, “yeah, not to mention all the fucking shuffling. Too many people for no reason, especially because we’re cutting twelve almost immediately.” Nick scoffs, “you’re telling me, I have to keep track of every motherfucker going in and out.” 

Peter’s best friend lets out a refreshing sigh, “I got the best job, I just make sure Tarrent does his job.” Hasco barks back, “shut the fuck up, Keznek.” 

“If I may, I have the worst out of all of you combined. I have to keep track of every fucking receipt, everyone’s dues, every god damn bill. Then I get to sit around and try to teach consent to a bunch of brain dead eighteen year olds.” 

“And safety! Don’t forget all the fights you had to break up last year.” 

It’s just so fucking tiring sometimes, but he’s the reason he and the entire frat have a place to sleep. “Thanks for the reminder, Nick.” Nick claps his shoulder, “anytime, bud.” Tarrent starts humming, “I’m getting so much food, you have no idea.” 

“I’m doubling down on burritos.” 

Ethan sucks in a breath, “me too.” 

Tarrent opens the doors to the dining hall and voices explode, overlapping chatter from every corner. It pierced through his ears and stabbed at his headache, Hasco sniffs and nods his head impressively, “fuck yeah,” bumping Peter’s shoulder when he walked in. 

“Jesus fucking christ.”

 Ethan holds back a chuckle at Peter’s audible mumble, choosing to mock Hasco instead, nodding at Peter walking by, “fuck yeah, man.” 

Peter nods towards Paul, sitting at a table with his girlfriend and who he assumes are her friends, he doesn’t care enough to actually look. Paul barely gives him a wave between inhaling his burrito, he’s gotten three, meaning he has to do an impressive four, unless Tarrents goes for four, then he’s maxing out at five. 

Things you learn in a frat, it’s the little things that mean the most dominance wise. 

He hangs at the back of the line so he can catch up with his favorite lunch lady on campus, until the closer he gets he can’t see her. Moving his head back and forth but coming up short he assumes she’s in the kitchen. She usually worked the register in the morning and afternoon, but he supposes new year, a new schedule.

Peter slides through the line with six breakfast burritos and a fruit cup, because it’s all about balance. Giving that deathly smile to his second favorite lunch lady, “hey, Mrs. Zoe. How was your summer?” 

Sweat dots her forehead, “hot and long, how about yours, honey?” He can’t complain much, he actually took it slow. “Pretty good, hey, um, is Linda around?” Peter doesn’t know what it is but he knows it’s bad by the way Zoe’s face drops, she looked younger than she was, until she was full frowning, then she looked every bit of sixty. 

“You didn’t hear?” Peter’s scared to say no but still shakes his head. 

“Oh, shit. She dropped a pot on her foot just the right way and shattered the whole thing. She ran out of time off and was let go.” 

Peter feels everything in him shake with rage. 

Linda took care of him for the past two years of his life, and worked harder than he ever has in his entire life. She dedicated decades of her life to this place, an institution built on community, until one got hurt. Linda made sure that even if he was away from home, he was still fed with love. She talked to him, they formed a bond, he asked about her granddaughter all the time, her husband was sick, she was supporting the house, now what? 

“They fired her?” He’s full of pain and anger but his voice comes out timid. 

Mrs. Zoe nods her head solemnly, Peter looks at his tray, he’s not so hungry anymore knowing Linda didn’t make a thing on it. Suddenly six burritos seem daunting. 

“Is she okay?” That’s all that mattered. He had to fix this, he wasn’t sure how yet but it’s his personal mission to get her back where she belonged. 

“She’s still healing up but I guess the university gave her a nice severance package, so she’ll be okay for a while.” 

The line’s starting to back up, “do you think I could get her number? I’ll come back for lunch and get it, if you think that’s okay.” 

A beaming smile, she looks young again, her eyes crinkle and it shows her joy. “I think she’d love that. I’ll get it for you.” Even if he’s mad, he gives her a polite smile, “thanks, Mrs. Zoe.” 

Peter’s heart races as he walks away, the situation swirling in his mind, how fucked it all was. He doesn’t care if they gave her a severance package, she got hurt at work. They should’ve held her job, they should’ve given her a break for the first time in over twenty years. 

How could he fix this? Maybe he could get the frat to do a petition, if they sign it then most of the school would get on board. Or shit, what if they go on protest? Do they sit in strike until they give in to the demand? What if he gets- 

“So sorry!” 

Peter stopped himself from stumbling any further, caught off guard and in the midst of a breakdown he took it out on the assaulter. He doesn’t care if it was an accident, he’s not hard to miss, they just weren’t looking, or paying attention. 

And he can see why, big doe eyes blinking at him. Like they’ve never seen an adult man, as if his presence alone was enough to send them into fight or flight. There’s one reason and one reason only, and it’s written all over their face. 

“Fucking freshman,” he hates them like no other, last year was enough to paint them in a negative light forever. They were babies, new to drinking, new to being on their own, new to parting. And the entitlement was off a new chart level, they thought they were the big dogs because they finally reached adulthood. 

The kind of entitlement that sent them running into people three times their size. 

The girl's face changed, she went from frightened to pissed in under three seconds. It almost impressed him, her eyes narrowed as she looked him directly in the eye. For a second he felt challenged, like someone he had to nearly look down on had equal footing against him. All from a freshman no less. 

Her words hit directly, she packed a punch behind them and meant each word as they spewed. 

“I hope you fucking choke.” 

Peter was left speechless, watching her stomp off, while slowly approaching the table his friends occupied. Hasco and Keznek bickering back and forth, which was pointless, Hasco always has to have the last word. 

“Explain this one to me,” he immediately caught attention. 

“Some freshman knocked into me, almost made me drop everything, then told me she hoped I’d choke. I mean, what the fuck?” 

Peter has to look away when Tarrent spews his idea, egg dropping from his mouth. 

“She wants to fuck you bro.” Sometimes his stupidity hurts, “what? It was a twenty second interaction and she told me to die.” 

“Yeah, that’s how it always starts.” 

The table goes quiet, Ethan’s the first to speak. “Tarrent, I think you should sit in on Parker’s health and safety course for a refresher.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

—------------------------

Peter thinks he’s a little too hungover and it’s a little too early for him to focus on mechanics and math, so he chooses to look over his syllabus and yawn. 

His year was littered with hard classes, approaching the end of his major and now everything counted. The pressure was on, he was prepared to make this his year. He was done with the little kid shit, it was time he got serious and put his future first.

 How boring of him, he was going to need Ethan to help bounce him back. 

Peter’s first and only class of the day was intro to quantum mechanics, having to sit through that much math and theory made his already pounding headache increase tenfold. Taking a harsh inhale he pulled out his phone for the brother’s group chat, hiding his phone in his lap while his new professor droned on.

‘Who’s fucking idea was this party? I’m dying rn.’ 

‘Blame Paul.’

‘that’d be pauly.’ 

‘Keznek emphasized ‘blame paul.’ 

‘blame me!’ 

‘Fuck you, paul.” 

Peter would be lying if it didn’t make him feel a little bit better. Still, blinking under the fluorescent lighting he wished he could wish his hangover away, he’s never felt this shitty in his life, he’s sure of it. He only had forty minutes left, all he had to do was make it through the lesson, buy his books and spend the rest of the day in bed hiding from every and all light and sound. 

It wouldn’t be a terrible year, his professor was the textbook definition of MILF. Blonde bob with streaks of gray, an hourglass figure and oval glasses. Her pantsuit hugged her curves and for a moment he thinks her husband is a lucky guy. 

Plus he was pocketed between the hottest chick on campus and some mega genius, so smart Peter was put to shame. It wouldn’t be a bad week either, after he got this girl's number and invited her over to a party. Peter politely sat through the lecture, going over the syllabus with his professor's powerpoint and writing down anything he deemed important. 

Then the hour was over and he deserved a treat. He worked hard, so now he can play hard.

Fighting through his looming hangover and using every ounce of charm, he turns his head and smiles at the girl. She had long, slick black hair and he wanted to wrap every bit of it around his fist. 

“Hey, I’m Parker.” 

She has a nice smile, and a nose ring, he wonders what else is pierced. 

“Hey, I’m Rose.” 

He’s not sure if it’s a nickname or her real name, it doesn’t matter to him, it suits her well. Peter can see a peek of a tattoo that blossomed from her chest. He wanted to unwrap her like a present and figure her out. 

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I just had to let you know I think I have the best seat partner in the whole room.” 

“I know, right? Teddy is hella smart.” Her grin tells him she knows what he meant by his comment. 

“You seem pretty smart too, maybe we should exchange numbers in case I need any help?” 

God, her smile is fucking raident. 

“Not sure my girlfriend would like that too much, Parker.” 

He exhales a breath, “oh you were waiting to say that.” 

Rose nods, “it’s always a fun bomb to drop. Nobody thinks I’m a lesbian until I say it, then I get the-” 

“I can see it.” 

Her hand raises, “point in case.” She’s still cool. And he has four months with her. 

“Let me try again. Hey, Rose, would you and your girlfriend like to come to our party on friday?” 

There’s that fucking smile. “We’d love to.” 

Peter nods his head, okay with the turn of events. “Alright, Rose, I’ll see you and…” 

“Lily,” she fills in for him. 

“Lily, how perfect. I’ll see both friday.”

Peter gathers his things and stands, his first try of the year was a swing and a miss, unless… 

“Hey, if you were straight would-” 

“My girlfriend will kill you, tread carefully, new friend.” 

Peter can’t wait to meet her, he already likes her. 

—-------------

Peter’s day just got longer or more miserable, because as he should’ve assumed, the bookstore line was wrapped around the building. If only he had given himself a head start, he could’ve done this days ago but there were other things in his personal life he had to wrap up first. 

Just so he could sit in line, under the sun, with a hangover, to buy hundreds of dollars worth of textbooks he’d never use again. 

Ray Bans rested on his nose, blocking the glare of the sun. He kept refreshing his twitter feed but was quickly bored, switching to instagram and endlessly scrolling. Liking a few pictures, his brother’s party posts, an old classmate’s ‘moving back in!’ post, a summer throwback bikini picture from a girl he’d hooked up with a few times the year prior.   

Jostling forward, Peter had to stabilize his stance. Caught off guard and his back ran into, he had to admit it just wasn’t his day. 

He scoffs as the assaulter mutters out apologies. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!” 

Turning sideways to look at the girl he gave a bitter laugh, “Jesus Christ, freshman. Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.” 

The girl in front of him looked pissed, “I said sorry, you don’t have to be so mean.” 

Peter pulled his head back and turned to face her full on. “You’re telling me about mean? You knocked into me twice and said you’d hope I fucking choke, if we’re tallying scores I’d think you’re the bully, sweetheart.” 

She huffs, “does the misogynistic shtik always work for you?” 

He holds his hand to his chest, “misogynistic, because I called you sweetheart? I’d say that’s irony, or sarcasm, because you’ve been anything but sweet.” 

“Well… maybe I’d be nicer if you were.” 

Peter’s having fun with this, she’s just shittalking him to do it, and he kinda respects that. His hands move as he speaks, emphasizing his point. “You hit me! Why do I have to be nice?” 

The girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in defense.  “I bumped you, I hope you’re majoring in acting because you could win an oscar for your dramatics.” 

His tongue pokes at his cheek, a cocky grin spreads. “Babe, I’m the best at what I do. You think I’d be here and not at Juilliard?” 

Peter won, she scoffs and opens her mouth before shutting it and spinning on her heel, turning her back on him.

“Realized you couldn’t win?” 

He turns back around, hiding a grin, fumbling for his phone in his back pocket. He opens up the ‘Captain Nu’ group chat and sends out a message. 

‘The entitlement from these freshmen gets worse every year.’ 

‘true dat. this freshie charles just got coffee all over me, i can’t wait to ruin his year.’ 

‘rip charles. never had a chance.’ 

‘@trent ally just said her friend is gonna do the ski trip after all.’ 

‘@paul, Ally’s got a friend? 👀’

‘@parker, lol, yea.’ 

‘paul is the world's worst wingman, lmaoooo.’ 

‘Of course he is, he met the girl he’s gonna marry at 16.’ 

‘@parker maybe u would too if you bothered to know their name after.’ 

‘@parker if anyone has dibs on ally’s friend it’s me. we’ve already been in talks. 🤔’ 

‘@trent, yo, tf? We’re gatekeeping now?’ 

‘@paul, invite her to the party friday. We’ll see who she wants, @trent’ 

‘🫡’ 

‘Hold on, Parker’s betting on a chick? I’m getting a lawn chair & a 12 pack rn.’ 

‘Good thing your name isn’t in the mix, isn’t it? @keznek’ 

‘ally said she’s coming, my money’s on trent, sorry parker.’ 

‘Hmmm, I dunno, Paul. Parker’s got that underdog in him.’ 

‘At least E believes in me.’

Glancing up, and noticing a gap in the line he moves up. Putting his phone back in his pocket he glances over his shoulder and peers at the girl with her gaze locked in on her phone screen. He’s learned several things while at the frat, one of the most important, you can never have too many options. 

She’d probably show up anyways, but if she was invited by him to his frat for their freshman welcome party, she’d definitely show up and if Trent wins, he’d have his bases covered. Clearing his throat and turning one eighty, Peter walked backwards to keep up in line, she followed with small steps. Smirking, he stopped quickly, her shoe toe hitting his own. 

She looked up quickly, “this one’s on me, sweetheart.” 

Her mouth opened, but he talked before she could. Before he could regret inviting her. Worst comes to worse, she’d be a good hate fuck. 

“Has anyone shown you frat row yet?” 

“I’m not-” she gives a frustrated sigh, “yes, I know where frat row is.” 

“Cool, so I’m Parker. I’m in Sigma Nu,” he gestures to the emblem on his corner pocket. “And on the first Friday of the school year we throw a freshman welcome party, you should come.” 

Peter can tell she’s trying to figure out his motive, it’s kind of cute, the way she's analyzing him. He immediately throws that idea from his head, he doesn’t find girls cute, he finds them attractive. Cute implies you want them to hang around and she’s nothing but infuriating.

“Uh huh. Sure.” Keeping watch of the line he backs up further, he’s three away from being saved from the sun.

“That’s a personal invite, babe.” 

She gasps, it smells of sarcasm. “My goodness, in that case I must show! How else will I know my worth when I watch you make out with another girl across the house?” 

That stumbles him a bit, not used to his game being called outright. Even if that was something that might happen, being told it would happen made him feel a little shitty. 

“That’s not at all what I-” 

Her hand stops him, “you have backup plan written all over your face, I think the summer made you lose some of that frat boy edge.” 

He just met this chick, after she threw herself into him twice, and now she’s telling him who he is? God damn, the entitlement is reeking from every orifice. 

“You-” 

“Line.”

He had to accept the loss and enter the store, but the second he saw her at his party, he’d throw in a few choice words. Remind the freshman who was on top. 

He was Peter Parker and he was the treasure and health and safety officer, and this was his fucking year. Hangovers and all.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH. 

Peter’s looking at a house across from him, it’s a faded yellow with maroon shutters. A plethora of flowers covered the base foundation, the grass was a little long, definitely a few weeks since the last cut. 

It looked like a home. 

He could picture a series of generations passing in and out the front door, it was a small house but the love he felt looking at it felt big. Peter felt just as much love for the woman inside the house, stepping over cracks in the concrete he knocked on the door and looked down at his feet while he ran lines through his head. 

A growing smile took over when the door cracked open, frizzy gray hair poked through. When Linda caught sight of him the door swung open, her arms went right around him, squeezing him with all her might. 

“Peter! Oh my goodness, I thought I wouldn’t see you again! I was going to send you a letter but you beat me to it!” Joy filled his heart, Peter wrapped his arms around her shoulders and laughed. “Mrs. Zoe helped me, I thought she’d call you. Guess not.” 

Linda gave him a parting squash before cupping his cheeks, “she knew I’d love the surprise.” She looks behind her, “wanna come in for some tea?” He took her up on the offer, he needed to let her know that he and the school needed her and he was willing to do whatever he could to get her back where she belonged. 

A blue oriental rug ran from the front door into the kitchen. Peter dropped his backpack by an entrance table and kicked his shoes off. While he looked around at the family pictures stretched across the walls he felt something rub against his legs, a scratchy meow followed. 

Peter looked down at an orange crusty cat, his heart melted. He wasted no time in picking them up and curling them to his chest, “is this Nelly?” Linda turned and smiled at her cat butting her head against Peter’s hand, “yes, she’s an attention grabber. Now you’ve held her, she'll expect it every visit.” 

As he followed Linda he looked deeper into the home, his stomach tugged when he looked into a bedroom off from the living room, an old man lying still in a hospital bed, three full IV bags hanging off a medical pole. 

The sun was coming through the kitchen window creating a sunspot, a sleeping chihuahua was soaking it up. 

“Teeny?” He already knew the answer.

 Linda bent down to pet the old dog, she mumbles while Teeny licks at her nose. “Yes, tú eres mi cariño, isn’t that right?” The cat in Peter’s hold pushed at his chest, a guttural meow while she looked at her food bowl. 

Setting her down, he looked back up to a young female standing by a cabinet, she seemed vaguely familiar. She looked a little flustered, and brushed down her shirt to prove it could fit better. 

“Hi.” Peter took a shot in the dark, “Hey, Kat. Nice braids.” 

Her face exploded in a smile, a faint blush crossed her cheeks. “You remember me?” 

“Yeah, I think we met my first year, you went…” 

“...to work with my grandma after I got in trouble that summer!” She finished for him. 

Linda moved around the small area, setting a bright red kettle on the stove. 

“You were what, fifteen?” Kat’s face went neutral, “I’m eighteen now, Peter.” Kat crossed her arms, subtly pushing her cleavage up. She’s pretty, but she’s too young for him, she can try to make it happen all she wants but he respects Linda too much. 

“Kathrine, go let Teeny out.” It seems like Linda doesn’t want it to happen either. 

“But-” Kat flinches when Linda points a wooden spoon at her, “you dare question me in my own home? Desagradecida!” Her granddaughter hangs her head and slowly passes Peter, going out of her way to brush against his shoulder, he lets her have it. 

The second the porch door slides shut Linda points the spoon at him, “not gonna happen, frat boy. Comprende?” Peter holds his hands up, “comprendido, comprendido!” A smile forms, crinkles by her eyes shows Peter she’s no real threat. 

“Green or herbal?” 

Peter glances at a pouty Kat in the backyard, it brings him back to his early teens. It makes him slightly chuckle, she’d be fine, the first rejection always hurts the most. 

“Green, please.” 

Peter’s been on a roll, spewing everything he thinks she needs to hear about his summer and upcoming school year. She’s nodding along and asking questions when an alarm starts beeping, she jumps from her seat and holds out an arm. “Be right back.” When she tucks herself into the bedroom her husband’s in, Peter feels a little sick. 

It’s the elephant in the room when she returns, she sits back in the teal chair across from him and tosses hair behind her shoulder. Linda’s hands wrap around her mug, steam billows when she blows on the rim. She gives him a knowing smirk, “you want to ask about Ronaldo, don’t you?” 

Peter feels shy, he does want to make sure she’s okay, but also knows it’s not something to really bring up. “Is he okay?” It’s a dumb question, he has to hold back on wincing when she shakes her head. “No. He’s comfortable for now, and he’s home. That’s all he ever wanted while he was in the hospital.” 

He swallows thickly, “is he in hospice?” Linda grabs his hand, “he is. It’s been hard, but we’ve made every decision together. He gave me and our family his best years, I think it’s time I take the brunt.” 

She wears a sad smile, but Peter can still see how strong she is underneath. Patting his hand she follows up like she knows where he’s going. 

“And I am very thankful I get to spend our last moments together by his side. I know it seems like bad luck, but that damn pot put me where I needed to be.” Peter’s smile is faulty, “so, you can’t be swayed into coming back?” 

“No, cariño. I can’t.” 

“But it feels so unfair! They should’ve given you something.” 

Linda clicks her tongue at him, “trust me, mi amor, I know what unfair is. And what happened was a grace of God. I get to watch my husband peacefully pass, and I get to spend the rest of my life watching my family grow. I can finally go see my great grandchildren in Mexico, my life is anything but unfair. ” 

If there’s anyone he wants the best for it’s Linda, and if she sees it as a blessing he could too. He takes a moment, “so, the severance package was good?” 

Linda scoffs, “if you call twenty five years pay at once good, then it’s good.” 

It was everything Peter needed to hear.

Peter finishes off his tea, “I’m still gonna miss you, Linda. No one can make a breakfast burrito like you. Or cut fruit! You should’ve seen the slices of cantaloupe, not one uniform cut!” 

A warm hand is cupped around his cheek, “you come by anytime for a meal. I know you’re local, but if you ever need a mom, a place to lay low, or an open door with no questions asked, you know where I am.” 

It brings tears to his eyes, he blinks fast, chuckling when a tear drops. Peter wipes at it with his sleeve, “I’m really, really, gonna miss you.” 

“You won’t miss me too much, you’ll be coming by every Wednesday for breakfast. Comprende?” 

Peter blows a sharp breath before laughing, “comprendido.” 

—--------------------

Spider-Man pats his tummy looking over the skyline. 

Linda made him a full cast iron of Huevos Rancheros, and when his eyes widened at the size she laughed and said, “What? You suddenly lost your appetite over the summer?” He had not, and ate the entire thing. 

Peter wishes he took up her offer to sleep on the couch while she watches reruns of ‘La Patrona.’ He politely declined, but tortillas and spicy eggs mixing in his stomach made him wish he was taking a nap.

He feels lead in his gut as he swings across the street, too sluggish to fight; he holds out a hand to stop a runaway bike thief. He went flying over the handlebars at an extreme speed, Spider-Man just watched and shrugged. 

An eight year old appeared, throwing his arms around Spider-Man and squeezing. Peter lets out a squeak, “alright, Spidey had a little too many eggs for breakfast-” the kid backs away and stares in amazement. 

“No way! I had eggs for breakfast too!” 

“Look at us, coupla egg eating guys.” 

The kid hugs him again, a panicked mother catches up. “Jacob! You can’t run away from me like-” Jacob bounces as he screams, “Mom! Mom! Spider-Man saved my bike! And, and, and guess what! He had eggs for breakfast too!” 

Sometimes the pure excitement of who he was made the shitty parts of his job manageable. 

“That’s awesome, honey! But you really can’t run away from mom like that.” 

Spider-Man crouches to Jacob’s height, and nods at his mom. “You know what I did when I was eight?” Jacob’s eyes grow wide, “no, what?!” 

“I listened to my mom. And I ate all my vegetables.” 

“Woah.” The child turns to his mom, she gives a knowing look to Spider-Man. “Mom! We have to go get broccoli!” She smiles at her son, “sure thing, buddy.” Holding his bike steady he takes mount, she mouths a thank you and Spider-Man waves her off. 

Jacob gives a parting salute, “bye, Spider-Man!” 

Peter feels like he’s going to puke when he takes flight, he thinks for a second, then starts heading east.

May doesn’t mind that he stopped by for a mid-morning nap. 

—---------------------------

After running through the budget four times, Peter’s positive he’s got the first two weeks handled.

Then, he’d have to rework the entire thing weekly until the final placements were made. And he still has that powerpoint to re-touch, after last year he had quite a few things to add to his health and safety presentation. 

Oh, and the chapter handbooks. That only took up an entire afternoon, even with two people working it. And grocery shopping tonight, he might be able to strong arm Ethan into going with him. 

Not to mention how he doubled up on physics this year, just because he’s gotten used to self-atonement.  

Everything was fine, it wasn’t like he was stressed already. 

Peter waited until the last minute, but he burned more time than necessary and finally pushed himself from his desk chair to go to the chapter’s private quarters, a meeting with Trent mandatory. 

It’s nothing too personal on Trent, but he just doesn’t like him. There wasn’t a real reason, just a general dislike. He was a bit too frat boy for him, although it makes sense, he’s the president, he’s had to make it his entire personality. But still, his subtle misogyny and hint of alpha male made Peter keep his distance. 

Checking for the fifth time, Peter opens the hidden door and slides in. 

“Parker!” 

“What’s up, Simpson?” 

Trent looks up grinning, his eyes clocking the folder in Peter’s hand. “Got my reports?” Peter hands over the folder, Trent opens it immediately and looks it over, nodding impressively at the number. 

“Thirty two recruits and you did this magic? I think I’ll keep you around, Parker. Speaking of, where are we on the shopping?” 

Peter wants to grit his teeth, when Trent said he was treasurer and everything money related would be run through him, he wasn’t exaggerating. “I have late classes tomorrow, so I’ll go tonight. I’m gonna get together with Tarrent and see what’s on the menu, plan around that.” 

Trent nods approvingly, “he’s on strict recruitment duty the next two days, so keep it short. We’ve doubled PNM's.” 

Peter keeps a straight face, “yeah, I know.” 

Trent picks up a tilt, “got a problem with it, Parker?” 

There’s that alpha, the subtle shift of dominance that runs rapidly in a house full of testosterone. 

“Not one, Simpson. It’s like you said, it’s open fucking season.” That makes him proud, “you’re damn right, baby. Now go fill up my fridge.” 

Peter nods, “I’ll check with Bakner and get Keznek to come with me. Anything else?” 

“Yes! I forgot, I’m thinking this year you do the health and safety for everyone. Not just the new recruits. I think some of these newer guys need to be reminded of what this campus and frat really stands for.” 

And Peter thinks that’s a really good idea. Maybe Trent wouldn’t be that awful this year. 

“Oh, Parker, one more thing?” One more thing, that’s fine, he doesn’t have enough on his plate. 

“Yeah?” 

“Harvey’s coming back on Friday, make sure he’s got a spot set up in here.” 

“I’ll make Hasco do it, he’s the housing officer.” Trent must not like his tone, “I know who Hasco is, Parker. Just do what I fucking say.” 

Okay, he might be awful this year. 

“Sure, yeah, you got it. Anything else,” your highness? He added in his head. 

“Tell Paul I need to meet with him, this Ally shit is annoying. He needs to know what he’s committed to.” 

His girlfriend, he’s committed to his girlfriend. And since she’s a human being, she takes priority over a frat house but Trent can’t wrap his thick skull around the idea of it. 

“Got it.” 

God bless the woman that ever puts up with that.

—--------------------

Three sheets of notebook paper, that’s how long the shopping list was. 

Tarrent was prepared and that was appreciated. Instead of having to sit around while he scrambled to prepare something, when Peter knocked on his door and asked about the groceries all he was granted was a grunt and an arm shoving out crumpled printer paper. 

Peter and Ethan walked down the cereal aisle side by side, each had a half full cart. 

“So, I was thinking about the Salander sisters. You think they’d hate me if I went after both and took the one that chooses me?”

Peter grabs six cereal boxes off the shelf, tossing the stack in his cart, he crosses off another item on the list, He’s only got two and a quarter pages left, next time, he’s bringing the pledges. 

“Aren’t they twins?” 

Ethan corrects him, “Irish twins, there’s a difference.” His attention drifted to where his best friend’s pointing, “fruit roll ups, twelve of ‘em. Which one are you trying first?” Ethan shakes his head piling cardboard and throwing it in his cart. “As if it’s a question, obviously it’s Sara.”

“I thought you were more into Sam,” cause he swore he was, “oatmeal, four of each flavor.” 

Ethan speaks over his shoulder, quaker oats sailing, Peter catching each one. “Until she picked you to kiss during that stupid card game.” 

Peter remembers, he apologized to Ethan after too. Ethan wouldn’t hear it, it wasn’t Peter’s fault he was picked, and Ethan made sure he knew it. Sam kissed him, Sam chose him, and he wasn’t owed any real loyalty, they’d only chatted a few times at a few different parties. 

Still, that night had left a bad taste in Ethan’s mouth and she shot to the bottom of his list real fast. Peter had never spoken to her before that night, but Ethan had. And she still chose Peter. 

‘I wanted to tell her no but then I'm the asshole.’ 

‘Dude, forget about it. It’s not like you stepped on any toes, if anything, you got a hookup tonight.’ 

It was tempting, but it was an unspoken agreement that any girl the other one liked, was off limits. So, he never even tried. 

“If it helps, she was a bad kisser. It was wet.”

Ethan shudders, “not sloppy?” 

Peter doubles down, “wet.”

“Do you think Sara’s the same way? Cause I can’t do sloppy kisses.” Raising a finger, Peter corrects him, making his way to the dairy section. “Wet, Keznek, it was wet.” 

“If you think a kiss was wet, what are the chances she also-” 

Peter cuts him off, “no, we’re not going there.” 

“Boo, no fun, how much milk do we need?” 

“A gallon of literally everything.” 

“We’re going to be here forever, I have moves to make, Parker.” 

A snort, “oh yeah? What’s on the radar for tonight?” 

“I don’t know yet, I’m stuck in a grocery store. 

Ethan is such a whiner, he’d do anything you asked but was a martyr through and through. 

Peter’s got it the worst and he’s not complaining, he could, but it wouldn't do anything. He’s got triple the load Ethan has, all he had to do was sit back and make sure the chapter officers were doing their job. 

At least he helps pass the time, and cuts the job in half. 

“So, I hit on a lesbian today.” 

Ethan almost stops breathing, “no way, where at? You think I could get a copy of the security footage?” 

—-----------------

At his current point in time, Peter had no idea what time it was, and he was only sure of three things. 

He had late classes tomorrow and could sleep in, Hasco put on the weirdest movie known to man, he still can’t tell if it’s in english, and he was absolutely baked. It was a new level of toasted, his arms were like noodles on his sides, limp and lifeless. Peter swears he can hear his eyelids blink, or it was Tarrent eating sunflower seeds. 

Peter’s slump against the back of the couch between Ethan and Tarrent, on Tarrent’s right was Hasco. The first, and only, sign of life from Ethan was him slowly slouching more and more until he was leaning on Peter’s shoulder, he assumes it’s to ground him because he’s allowing it for the same reason. 

Hasco’s giggling madly, slapping on his knee while the other three are locked on the screen. 

“We are so fucking high, you know how I know?” 

Peter looks to Tarrent to answer for the crowd, he supplies a ‘hmph,’ between spitting kernels. 

“I just remembered this movie is in portuguese.” 

“Oh.” It’s all Peter could get out, somehow, he understands it more than before. Tarrent is impressively loud, “even if it was in ASL shit would suck. This is like The Fast and The Furious meets Twilight.” 

“Bro, I know! Isn’t it fucking sick?” 

Peter blinks, he can look but can’t see, zoned out in a world of blank space. Ethan wheezes on Peter’s left, even out of his mind he can’t miss a shot at Hasco, “fucking sick.” 

In two days it would be the real start of the year, once the first party of the year commenced, they would never stop. It always felt like there were a million people in the house when the year started, it goes from pledges to recruits and back to members. Then you have friends and girlfriends and sororities, every night there would be at least twenty people downstairs drinking. 

It was a rare moment for the frat house to be so quiet and everyone was enjoying it, the calm before the storm. Peter thinks he’s enjoying it, but he’s also surfing the ozone layer. 

“You guys wanna get pizza?” 

Tarrent is a fucking tank, it’s seriously impressive. 

“Do you know how much money we spent at the grocery store today? Fuck no, make a sandwich.” Ethan smacks his arm, “make it two, no, three, I want one too.” Peter’s so glad Tarrent’s playing nice tonight, he actually stands and nods at the couch crew, “my boys want a BLT?” 

Not that he needs to say it, but it was the best fucking BLT of his life. 

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

It was always a good day when you wake up before your alarm and realize you have a few more hours to sleep. Mornings like that make Peter feel more energized than eating a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans, a habit he has far too often. 

At ten thirty he couldn’t sleep anymore, throwing his sheets off him and standing with a yawn, scratching his thigh while his eyes watered. He would take a shower, hit up the dining hall with whoever lingered in the house still, then think about thermodynamics. 

His schedule, made while he was in the thick of a concussion from his spidey summer, made him sick. The classes alone made him want to eat a brick, but the days and times he chose fucked him up. His entire week was up and down. Monday he had two classes, Tuesday he had one, Wednesday he had none, Thursday he had one class and for god knows what reason, blocked his lab and lecture back to back on Friday. 

At least it was every other week, two Fridays out of the month he had nothing to do, which was pretty nice. With a big stretch and another yawn, Peter walked to his bathroom and started the shower, his boxers flying to the sink. 

The hot water felt good, his mind raced about the party the next night, how he’d be up most of the night moving things around, and how he had a lab-lecture combo. 

All he knew was that he had some fine opportunities coming up and he’d be dumb to have his bed empty tomorrow night. 

—-------------------

Belgian waffles were the only thing on Peter’s mind, the rest of his day could melt into whatever bullshit that needed to happen so he could carry on to another day. But first, he needed waffles. 

It was a whole bar, a set up of freshly made waffles and toppings galore. Strawberries, blueberries, bananas, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, maple syrup, sprinkles, butter, chopped pecans, and that was just what was on his. 

Peter was double plating, two hands, two plates. Each one had two waffles dressed to the nines, Tarrent following behind with his own. 

“Wanna sit with Paul?” 

Yuck, he was at his girlfriend's table. Ally was nice and pretty cool, but everything he’s learned about her has been against his will. Sometimes she pulls the girlfriend card a little too much, and it really only annoys him when Paul has to drop everything for her. But, for the past two years he’s known her, he can say that Ally was a perfect fit for Paul. 

“Fuck no, that freshman is over there.” She was, when he looked back to confirm, their eyes locked. Peter wasn’t backing down, not after that last interaction. Her eyes focused in on him, he doesn’t know why but his knees felt weak, suddenly he thinks she’s a witch. It wouldn’t be far-fetched, she’s evil, hates men, and makes him feel weird things. Plus, he’s Spider-Man, so they could exist, right? 

It was a staring contest, until Ally caught on to her friend looking at something, when she turned her head to look back the girl stopped her. Reaching out and breaking eye contact, she played like she was in a daze, laughing at something Paul said. 

It was weird, she was weird. Peter couldn’t choose between staying away and getting closer. 

“-Are you even listening to me? God, bro, it’s chill if you like the freshman. You can talk to her, no one will care.” Peter was snapped back to life, “she’s weird and keeps showing up.” Plastic plates click against the table top, the chairs screeching to life. Tarrent flops down, scraping his teeth across his fork when he takes a bite. He’s got a terrible habit of talking while eating, “does she keep showing up or are you just noticing her?”

“I just met the girl, Bakner. I don’t even know her name, how could I notice her?” 

“Maybe cause you want to know her name, Parker.” 

Tarrent doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Sure, she may have caught his attention a little and sure, he might have invited her to the party with the intention of possibly getting into her pants. But that has nothing to do with wanting to know her name or anything. He doesn’t care about girls like that.  

Peter still misses his favorite lunch lady but the waffles were really good this morning. 

He pulls a Tarrent and talks while cheeking his bite, “she bumped into me, several times. And was mean about it, why would I want to know her?” 

“Maybe she likes you, ever think about that, dingus?” 

Well, not really. She doesn’t even know him, how could she like him? The school year just started, unless he’s got a stalker walking around… or a witch.

“Someone taught you the word maybe once and you haven’t stopped using it since.” 

A grin full of bacon, “maybe.” 

Peter can’t stop himself from asking, “why do you think she likes me?” Tarrent’s fork clatters to his plate, “knew it.” 

“Knew what?” 

“I knew you liked her.” 

“I don’t know her! She’s the one that- we’re talking in circles, Bakner!” 

Tarrent pats Peter’s shoulder, which he shakes off and mumbles insults about Tarrent’s IQ level. “You know what, Parker? I think this is the year you get a girlfriend.” 

Peter stares his friend in the eye while he chews and swallows, “eat shit, Bakner.” 

—---------------------

“Welcome to thermodynamics. This is a fast paced, no frills, no bullshit class. If you cannot handle that, you will be left behind. This is a hands-on class, and I have high standards for everyone in here. If you do not follow my rules, you’ll be excluded and shunned from the rest of us. I’m Dr. Octavius, I’ll be your professor for the next fifteen weeks and it is my honor to teach you the fun in thermodynamics.”

This guy was absolutely not fucking around, he was all business and execution. Or as Peter likes to call these people, too smart for their own good. He earns his respect immediately, he’s the type of teacher that would get under his skin and push him to his extreme limits. Those are his favorite kinds. 

“I want each of you to look at the person on your left and right,” the class pauses, but he encourages them to do so. Peter looks at the guys next to him, one looks like a deer in headlights, the other looks more like Peter, excited to be challenged. 

For a second he imagines what his reaction would be if he saw the freshman sitting next to him. It wouldn’t be possible, but he imagines how shocked he would be. And the annoyance, god, he’d be so annoyed. But a small, tiny, itty bitty, microscopic part of him would be glad to be entertained. 

She’s not even around and he’s annoyed thinking about her. 

Why was he thinking about her? Why is she in his mind? Why is he imagining his reaction to her? 

She’s a witch. No other explanation. 

Peter shakes her from his mind and refocuses. 

Dr. Octavius nods at the group, “yes, good, good commit them to memory,” A few people start chatting, and he seems all for it, until his hand raises and everyone silences. “Now, immediately forget them.” 

Even if it wasn’t audible, he could hear everyone choke.

“Because, thirty percent of you will not be here by the sixteenth. If you want to drop my class, do it by then, if not, you’ll be charged for the semester and I won’t hear your sob story.” 

Ice cold. This is the best professor he’s ever had, he has a few more to meet but no way they would compare. This guy could tell Peter to go lay in a bath of acid because he’s not worth the surface matter he’s wasting to exist and he’d lay down for him. 

“I hope everyone here knows what thermodynamics are, if not, you’ve been failed by everyone around you.” He studies the room, reading each face for a moment before smiling. Pressing a button in his hand, the projector turns on, the syllabus on the screen. 

“Any questions?” 

No one raises their hand.

—-----------------

If Peter was a rich man, and he really wished he was, he'd buy himself a nap today. Not that naps are something you can buy, but if he could pay someone to do his work for him then he could take a nap. Normally, that just means employing a pledge to the task, but he won’t have one for a few days. 

The frat pays him, which is pretty nice because it pays him more than he could make in any part time job. It’s hard to become a chapter officer, but when you make it, it’s so worth it. He’s a top dog on campus and in the house, it’s nice having power outside the suit.  

But, he couldn’t buy a nap and he had thirty two chapter handbooks to make, hopefully getting to skip out on the set up for the party the next night. He’d have to go out for booze tomorrow, but he was praying he wouldn’t have to shove furniture around. 

When Peter walked in the house door he could hear something happening in the kitchen and it wasn’t sounding good. Suddenly, Peter felt wide awake. Hasco was yelling at Booker, who was holding back his anger but the wall was faltering. 

Ethan was absolutely useless, holding a bowl of cornflakes to his chest while he watched the brewing flight. He nodded at Peter, then to Hasco spitting insults at a million miles an hour. “Fuckin sick,” the mocking never got old. 

Before he intervened he needed to know if he should, something he’s learned as a man and as someone in a frat, sometimes you just need to fight it out. 

Peter shook his backpack off and watched them bicker back and forth. It was more like a coked up Hasco on a tangent and a way too calm exterior but built with inner rage Booker listening and tightening his fist with each insult. Booker played hockey, he was an athlete on and off the field, meaning, he took all he could before exploding. 

“What’s happening?” Ethan’s in no rush to respond, drinking milk from the bowl. 

“Something that needs to happen.”  

Hasco’s about to get the absolute shit beat out of him, “he’s been screaming for five minutes, I think Booker’s gonna knock him out.” 

That’s fine with him but his blender’s right there. 

“Booker, don’t get his blood on my blender please.” It stops Hasco, but seals his fate. 

“Who-” raging bloodshot eyes on him, “who the fuck’s gonna get blood on the blender? Me? You think this fuckin guy can put his hands on me? You think he can fight me? You think any of you motherfuckers can take me down?” 

Hasco slaps the side of his face, “fuckin do it, pussy. I know you won’t, you’re a bitch just like your mom-” 

Peter and Ethan pull their head back in a hiss, the collison sounded like a crack. It was enough to send Hasco’s head spinning before he dropped, he was real silent real fast. 

Booker stood over him and pulled him up by his shirt, a raised hand in the air. “Don’t fucking talk about my mom, you don’t know shit about her and what she’s done for me.” 

Ethan points his spoon towards him, defending his point. “Facts, the mom card was too far, Hasco.” 

“I should beat your ass, but Parker said no blood on his blender.” 

“Thank you!” 

“Thank your white friend and apologize on my moms behalf,” when Hasco stays silent Booker lifts his hand a little, Peter moves around to see him wince in fear. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, I was just heated man, you know how it is, it’s all crazy this time of year, cause all these new guys come in and my mind is all scrambled-” 

Ethan’s spoon points again, “that’s the coke.” 

“Hey! Fuck you man! If you wanna fucking go then we can go, motherfucker.” 

“You’re being held down by another man talking about beating my ass.” 

“Fuck all you! The only real one here is Parker, he’s a real friend, he has my back, he’s the only one here protecting me.” 

“I was protecting my blender,” Ethan shoves his elbow into his and mumbles, “health and safety officer,” he corrects himself, “and you, Hasco. It’s my job to protect everyone in the house. Do we need to settle this with a gulag or can it end here?” 

Booker’s over it, and Hasco needs a bump. 

“Let me up and we can hug it out,” and they do. Awkwardly slapping at each other’s back, Hasco giving him a “we all good brotha,” causing Peter and Ethan to wince again. 

“Don’t ever fucking say that to me.” 

“Parker! He’s still threat-” 

“Anything Booker deems racist is gonna get your ass beat, that’s a rule we signed in.” Ethan nods, “can confirm, I was there as witness.” 

“Simpson agreed? Of course he did, Polish motherfucker.” 

Ethan lost it, his shoulders shaking with his laugh. Hasco had something to say about everyone, last year after they butted heads, Hasco called him ‘plant fucker’ for six weeks and it never got old. Ethan laughing made Peter smirk, but he had to kill it before Hasco could catch him. 

“You know I love you, man! No more disrespect on your mom, you slapped the shit outta me. I feel like a bitch, I would’ve rather you punched me.” 

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” 

Hasco made a motion of his mind exploding, “wild man, you’re a wild man.” He jumps at the idea of something and looks around the kitchen rubbing his nose, “hey, uh, we all good here guys? I got some shit to do in my room.” 

Eyes are on Peter, he’s the one that makes the call. He assumes everything’s fine, Booker looks bored and Hasco’s running his tongue over his gums, eyes twitching to the staircase. 

“Cleared.” 

Hasco nods, “fuckin sick,” and slithers between Peter and Ethan, slowly walking to the staircase before running up them. Peter’s stating the obvious, but it needs to be said. 

“Oh, he needs a fucking rehab.” 

Booker shrugs, “I dunno, dude. I slapped him sober.” 

Ethan cleans his bowl in the sink, “slapped him into next week, that shit ricocheted off the cabinets.” Booker eyed Peter as he said, “I mean, he deserved it?” Peter raised his hands up, “I said it was cleared, you don’t have to explain or excuse shit.” 

He snapped his fingers and pointed at him, “Parker, you’re my fuckin guy. I gotta get to practice, but you’re my fuckin guy.” Peter waved him off, “you protected my blender, bro. Tarrent loves that thing.” 

Booker jogged away pointing at him, “my guy! Still my guy!” 

Ethan raised his eyebrows at Peter when they were left alone, “you’re gonna love me.” 

“What’d you do?” 

Ethan shrugs, “made use of my day off and printed those handbooks.” Peter feels like he could cry, his best friend really was one, he took one for the team and dedicated himself to hours in the library to do the brunt of the work. 

“God,” A finger stops him, “not done, I also got the folders and brackets from the supply store. All we need to do is staple, stamp and book em’.” 

“You’re the best person to ever exist and I don’t say it enough.” 

“Wanna sit on my balcony and smoke a backwood while we do it?” He can’t imagine a better scenario. 

Then wonders if the freshman smoked, and finds himself aggravated at the thought. Why was he still thinking about her? 

She’s a witch, she has to be. He pushes her away, and focuses on his friend. 

“I’ll cry right now, Keznek.” 

—-------------------

It was nice outside, Peter was comfortable in a hoodie and sweatpants, and so was Ethan. They slowly talked while they worked back and forth. Peter would staple the pages, Ethan would bracket them into the booklets, then Peter would stamp them. 

"You remember those info sheets Trent's 'new friend' got him?"

"Yeah, do you know who it is?"

Ethan hisses when he pinches his finger, “nah, I did find out it's a chick though." Even though they’re alone Ethan leans in and talks low, “and apparently it’s top, top secret. Like, no one can find out, ever. She has something on him.” Those pages are held too tightly to their chests, every fraternity in competition with each other no one dares share or spill. 

“How’d you find out?” 

“Simpson left his computer open, he had it on his notes app.” Peter blows a harsh breath, “how do you think she got it?”

“No idea, but that shit comes at a price. She wants something, and it’s gonna be something Trent can control.” 

There’s a lot he can control, everyone can think they’re the most manly in the house, but Trent owned the title. Peter doesn’t know why, but it makes him itch to find out. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but he has a weird tug that demands to be discovered. 

It was that same tug he felt when that witch looked at him today, and why is he thinking about her? Why is he still thinking about her, he doesn’t even know her name, and she’s mean. Was Tarrent right, was he just noticing her instead of her showing up? Has he been looking out for her? And why in the hell is he still thinking about her? 

He’s right, he has to be. She’s a fucking witch. 

Peter snaps out of it and stamps three books. “What if she’s just bullshitting? Is there any way to prove it’s real?” 

“She’s not and she has. She hacked their computers.” 

It’s blackmail, she needs something over the frat. It’s his job to protect the frat, from the personnel to the building. His guess is money, but the why is lost on him. If it’s frat money he’d find out, Trent would have to run it through him, and if not, he’d find it the next time he went through the books. 

“That’s so weird, and speaking of weird, you remember that chick that bumped into me?” 

Why was he talking about her? Why was he still thinking about her? It just came out, he didn’t even have anything to say. She’s a fucking witch.

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t know, nevermind.” 

Ethan shrugs, “alright. Wanna guess what Tarrent’s doing for hazing?” Peter reloads the stapler, it’s automatic and he feels like a king. “You know it’s my job to prevent hazing, right?” 

“No, it’s your job to prevent poor or dangerous hazing, and guess who makes that call?” 

“Are you saying the definition of poor and dangerous hazing is at my discretion?” 

Ethan teeter totters, “technically mine too, I have to make sure you’re doing your job.” Peter fills in the blank, “by letting hazing happen?” 

“Alright, look. It’s a right of passage, you did it, I did it, everyone in that house and the other fifteen did it. Generations of fraternities have done it dating back to three hundred and eighty seven B.C. Everyone does it, that’s all I'm saying.” 

Ethan looks up at him from the gold brackets he’s thumbing flat on the book, “I know you have…” he tries to find the right words, “higher morals than most of us, and I know you’ll know when to shut it down.” 

“I never said I wanted to stop it, I just meant we’re not gonna be the frat that kills a kid.” 

“Jesus, of course we aren’t, I just didn’t want you killing the vibe.” 

Peter scoffs, “oh, well that’s just insulting.” He can see the end of the tunnel, only eighteen books left. “So, tell me what he’s doing. Please say it’s something better than the drunk soccer match.” 

Ethan cackles, “fuck you, that’s gold. It’s happening for sure.” 

Peter can think of one better, “imagine a drunk obstacle course, like, one of those bounce house ones? But we can make it all manly, so they think it’s something easy but on the other side it’s like a fucking bootcamp.” 

“Railing sixteen beers and rope climbing a six foot wall,” the idea made him laugh just as hard as the soccer match. “That’s so sick, you’re sick for that.” 

Peter stamps three more and finishes for him, “so obviously we’re gonna do it, right?” Ethan nods, “absolutely we are.” 

It falls silent, both of them working together but enjoying the quiet. Peter likes that most about Ethan, since day one he’s felt comfortable around him. He can be himself around him and it’s never once been awkward, they just agree on everything. 

It’s weird, sometimes it feels like Ethan doesn’t care about him but that also makes him a better friend to Peter. He acts like he’s less involved than he is, like he knows that Peter pushes people away when they get too close. The only person closer to Peter than Ethan is his aunt. 

But Ethan pretends he doesn’t know that, and it makes their bond stronger. Ethan’s opinion means the world to him, anything he says is taken with a mountain of salt. And no judgment, never, ever judgment. It takes a lot for him to say it, but he’d trust him with his life. 

When they’re down to the last ten Peter clears his throat, “have you gotten anywhere with the Salander sisters?” Ethan shrugs, “I’ve been feeling this girl in my bio class, she’s pretty cool. I invited her to the party, she seemed into me, I think.” 

“Woah, the Ethan Keznek catching feelings?” 

“Easy, I had two classes with her. She seems like she’d be fun to hang with, I’m not trying to date her.” 

Peter spits it out before he can stop it, “Tarrent thinks freshman and I will end up together.” 

Why the fuck does he keep thinking about her? 

She’s a fucking witch, she has to be. 

“The entitled one?” Ethan knows he can’t get his mind off her, he brought her up twice. And each time he looked like he regretted it, but he doesn’t care enough to push it. 

“Yeah. But he’s kinda dumb, right?” Peter doesn’t even know her, he hates how she’s been popping up in his mind throughout the day.

“He could be, or he may be a clairvoyant genius that sees the future. Personally, I vote for the latter.” 

Proof he’s a best friend, giving Peter an out through a joke. 

“He’s majoring in physical therapy but he should be a conspiracy theorist.” 

Final five, Peter’s ready for dinner. “Wanna hit up the dining hall after this?” 

“God yes, I need lo-mein noodles so bad right now.” 

—------------

The table was rowdy, everyone yelling over each other. If women thought men interrupting them was bad, they should see five men hanging out together. 

“Remember when Booker slapped me?” 

Paul dropped his fork, “no, what, when?”

Tarrent’s holding the edge of his plate to his mouth as he shovels rice in. “That’s hilarious.” 

Ethan sighs dreamily, “yeah, it was awesome.”

“Yes, Hasco. It happened like, three hours ago.” 

“Ah, fuck! I always miss the best shit, this is about to be Ally’s problem.” 

“I was stretching a cheerleader's hamstrings, I didn’t miss out on anything.” 

Ethan drops his fork to point at Tarrent, making sure Peter was paying attention. “He’s bragging, make him stop.” 

“Bakner, stop bragging, some of us are more lonely than others.” His words focused more on Paul, the guy that’s been with the same girl for six years. Like, everyone feels so bad he’s missing out on fights because he’s too busy being in love. 

It’s actually disgusting to Peter. 

“Don’t blame me, you guys are the ones against church girls.” 

Hasco sneers, “cause they try to convert us, I refuse to willingly be beneath another man.” 

Ethan loves riling him up, “hey, you never know, God may be a woman.” Hasco gives him a pathetic look, “c’mon man, not even you believe that.” Ethan nods his head like he’s got a point, Paul looks like he’s sick. 

“That is our lord you’re talking about, he died for us.” Paul’s a devoted christian… only when he felt the need to be. 

Peter taps his chin, “isn’t premarital sex one of the things he died for?” 

“What my girlfriend and I do behind closed doors is not the lord's business. Or yours.” 

The table ooed, Peter nods impressively, Ally’s given him a backbone. He pushes away from the table, he’s stuffed and needs to put his plates away. He also needs to piss. 

No one notices his descent, Peter looks over the dining hall, it’s always empty for dinner. Breakfast and lunch seemed impossible with seating, but for whatever reason dinner was always empty. 

Dropping his plates in a bin he politely nodded at a group of ladies before turning back for the bathroom, mumbling a song under his breath that was stuck in his head. “... Another bottle in the brain. Another girl, another fight,” Peter hit the door open with his shoulder, finishing his mumbling. “Another drive all night.” 

Peter had that weird feeling again, the one he felt when he saw that freshman. And fuck, he’s thinking about her again. 

She’s a witch, a real fucking witch. 

Peter moved his shoulders while he washed his hands, the song replaying over and over. Swinging the door open with this foot, he mumbled to himself again. “.. another bottle in the brain,” 

A voice speaks up, “another girl, another fight.” He jumps, his eyes fall to the left, perched at a high top was the witch. Her mouth wrapped around a spoon, a cup of fro-yo in her hand. Tarrent was wrong, he wasn’t noticing her. She kept showing up. 

“Hey,” he doesn’t like how winded he sounded. Who the fuck was she? 

“Hello, Peter.” 

His heart stopped, no one calls him Peter, no one. Since day one it’s been Parker, when he was recruited he was only addressed as Parker and it stuck. It’s weird she knew what his first name was, his suspicions are adding up. 

He wants to ask how she knew his name, but it’s cliche, and he really doesn’t care. If he guessed, it was probably Ally. It’s still a bold choice that she used it, it definitely separated her from the crowd. 

“And you are…” Waiting for her to fill in the blanks, if he could find out her name he can banish all traces of her in his mind, like a demon. 

A smirk wrapped around her plastic spoon, it scraped against her teeth as she removed it. 

“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” She thinks she’s clever, she’s not. 

“I’m sure you planned it, considering how you keep showing up around me.” That seems to tick her off, “no, you keep showing up where I already am.” 

“Now you’re just lying.” 

She raised three fingers, “scouts honor.” Peter looks around, “where are your friends?” 

Why is he still talking to her? She must have him under her spell. 

The witch hums, “can’t a girl get fro-yo alone?” 

“It’s a free country, babe. Do you, girl power, smash the patriarchy, all that stuff.” 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly misogynistic?” 

Peter looks up at his brothers, it still seems like his absence hasn’t been noticed. Her eye contact is insane, it makes his knees weak like this morning. It’s gross, her powers have taken over his cerebrum. 

“Just one, I think she doesn’t know what misogyny is.” 

Her eyebrows shoot up, “you’re mansplaining now?” Peter’s eyes look at her mouth when she takes another spoonful. “Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly difficult?” It’s like his words egg her on, “just one, I don’t think he knows what difficult is yet.” 

“Yet? For a person with no name you’re bold.” Normally flirting doesn’t feel like this, he feels like he has to keep up with her. Peter hates that it feels like she always has the upper hand. 

She makes him feel like he could go all night.

The witch proves she’s difficult, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” She jumps out of her seat, for the fourth time she’s left him thinking about her. 

“Have a goodnight, Peter.” 

“Yeah, you too.” He’s weary and doesn’t trust her. 

Her back turned on him as she walked away, his eyes dropped to her ass and tilted his head impressively. He can’t deny a nice sight. 

Too bad she’s a witch. 

When he makes it back to the table it’s unnoticed, except for Tarrent, he gives Peter the smallest hint of a smile.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH

It was the day he’s been preparing for all week. The official start of the year, he wouldn’t be able to get too loose tonight, he’d be too busy kicking out anyone puking, fighting or excessively crying. 

He also had a lecture and a lab today. He hates himself. If he plans it right, he’d have time to take a nap, not that he would, but the idea of one made him feel better. Speaking of naps, he still needs to set up a bed for Harvey in the chapter room. 

Rolling over, Peter picked up his phone and went straight for twitter. It was his morning news, scrolling for a little until a headline caught his eye. 

‘Spider-Menace’s scheduled slump.’ He clicks the link, it opens and he rolls his eyes, he should’ve expected it. 

‘Spider-Menace is no longer patrolling the streets nightly, don’t worry criminals, you won’t be out of a job anymore. To the real heroes of the city, the citizens, we bid ado to the masked vigilante. For the second year, Spider-Menace picked up activity during the summer months, and has plans to become a rare sight during the months that follow. 

It’s unsure what our ‘friendly’ city destroyer is up to, but we do know the ones trained for their job, the NYPD, are prepared for any threat. For more on Spider-Menace, download our app to be the first to know exclusive news updates.’ 

Just like usual, the Daily Bugle was dumb as shit. 

Peter Parker had shit to do, a life to build. Spider-Man didn’t pay the bills, Peter did. It doesn’t mean choosing himself over a daunting responsibility was easy, the first year he stressed himself so thin he lost his abilities. 

No strength, no healing, no heightened listening. He needed glasses for the first time in years, and for a second he swore his asthma came back. 

Needless to say, it freaked him the fuck out. He’s always viewed Spider-Man as a thing he had to do, the great responsibility his uncle Ben reminded him of. And when he lost it, he realized how much he wrapped himself into his alter ego. 

When Peter lost Spider-Man, he lost himself. And he swore if he got his powers back, he’d build a life for Peter outside them. 

And he did. He has been. And no matter what his uncle told him, he knows he’d be damn proud of him for doing it.

Peter pulls at the chain around his neck and looks at the ring on it, it was Ben’s wedding ring. May gave it to him when he turned eighteen, she said he had a dream and needed him to have it. He’s worn it every day since then. 

Bored of twitter he makes the switch to instagram, opening his messages and responding to the videos he’s been sent. For whatever reason he thinks about the witch, he wonders if he could find her from Ally’s page. He probably could, but it feels like cheating. 

Starting his day the same way, he walks to his bathroom yawning and pulling his boxers off. Starting the shower and wasting the time waiting for it to heat up by brushing his teeth, tugging at the front of his hair with a grunt. 

He needs a haircut. 

He should get one before the party. 

He also needs to buy booze. 

And two fucking classes, that fucking guy really was a Spider-Menace. 

‘Half lab, Peter. Half lecture.’ He thanks his own mind for the gentle reminder. The shower feels nice, it always does. On his bad days, the days where everything is too much it’s his safe place. He could stay in the shower for hours, the rushing water calms him, even when it turns ice cold. 

They don’t happen often, but it’s debilitating when they do. He spends his day hiding, on one really bad day he was curled up on the floor of the shower with his hands pressing into his ears as hard as they could, trying his best to block everything out and it wasn’t working, nothing was working. He remembers sobbing, praying to any God that would listen to help him. No one heard him. 

But that was last year. He had an episode over the summer, and as much as she didn’t want to leave him alone, he begged May to leave. Her walking around, or even sitting on the couch was too much. He could hear the fabric move underneath her, he could even hear her breathe. 

It took hours, but when he was defeated and went from hearing the city to a low, constant ring he was ready to sleep. He’d be okay in the morning, sometimes that’s the only thing that gets him through it. He called May and apologized, and told her she could come back to her own home. She laughed at him and said ‘it’s your home too,’ and that made him feel better than a shower ever could. 

But today wasn’t one of those days. Today, he was making it a good day. 

—--------------

Peter’s good day took a small dip when he had to skip breakfast. And by skipping breakfast, he means all he had was a fat spoonful of peanut butter and an apple to go. He forgot to refill his water before leaving and nearly choked to death on the glue in his mouth. 

Every dog in the world had gained his sympathy. 

But, today was a good day. Especially when he was seated next to a smoking hot chick, he wasted no time in casually looking her over, committing details to think of rather than stare. A black skater skirt exposed a tattoo of Medusa that took up her entire thigh, a white shirt with a Vans logo in the center, it was obvious she cut the sleeves herself. 

She was wearing a black bralette underneath, she was flat chested and he didn’t mind one bit. They suited her, she seemed too cool for him. She looked like she would ruin his life and he’d love every minute of it. 

He wasn’t wasting any time, “first time here?” 

The girl winced, he did too the second he said it. 

“That’s your opening line, really? Are you proud of that?” 

Peter shook his head, “I regretted it the second I said it. Usually I’m way cooler, but pretty girls make me nervous.” 

The girl smiles, she has teeth to envy. “Smooth, did you plan that whole thing?” He didn’t, but if she believes it he’s not one to ruin dreams. 

“Maybe things are working out in my favor, like sitting next to you.” 

There’s a gleam in her eye, “you’re a flirter, and that makes you dangerous.” Peter might be laying it on thick here, but she may like it. “Hm, do you like danger?” Her eyebrow quirks, “do you?” 

Oh, he wants her. 

Peter extends his hand out, “Parker, nice to meet you.” The girl shakes his hand, it’s ultra soft. “Nice to meet you, Parker.” 

What the fuck is up with girls not sharing their names? What’s he supposed to do, call them babydoll? 

“Any plans tonight?” 

“Your party, what else would I be doing?” 

Peter’s celebrating on the inside, she’s just been booted to the top of the list. 

“Glad to hear it, if you’re okay with it I’d love to play a game of pong with you.” 

The girl holds a hand to her chest, jewelry covering her fingers and wrist. 

“I’d be okay with it, not sure my girlfriend would be.” 

Peter’s entire world collapses, he meets the girl of his dreams and he’s the furthest thing away from her type. She seems overjoyed to share the news, the defeat on his face is the highlight of her day. When he takes a good look at her he’s reminded of someone else. 

“Is your name…” They say at the same time, “Lily?” 

“I was waiting on that one, handsome. Rose told me all about you, I had to get two for oh.” 

He has to take that one on the chin, “you live up to the hype, Lily.” She’s happy with his words, “same to you, Parker.” 

Peter plays it cool when the lecture starts, he’s trying to make it a good day. But all he can think about are the witches' words. Maybe he really has lost his frat boy edge, so far his only prospects have been two lesbians and a freshman. 

And just like that he has a burnt taste in his mouth, because he somehow rounded his thoughts back to her. 

She’s fucking evil, and she’s a witch.

—--------------

Peter’s standing at the edge of the kitchen looking over the liquor on the counter. It’s an impressive haul, he doesn’t think they have enough coolers and fridges for all the beer. The island would be spread out with all the bottles, mixers, cups, and as tradition calls, jungle juice. 

Tarrent is running around like a mad man, screaming at everyone but Peter to ‘fucking do something!’ Hasco’s preparing in his room and no doubt Trent’s joined him. Paul’s coming late due to Ally, no one’s shocked. Leaving Booker and Nick to follow every command from Tarrent. 

Peter should help out, and he will later, but he’s got to take a shower. He got the haircut he needed and he can feel little hairs poking into his neck, plus, he’s not sure what the night could bring. 

“Give me ten minutes to shower and I’ll help you guys, where’s E?” Booker shrugs, Nick’s sweating like a whore in church and Tarrent pauses to point and laugh. 

“Ha! Parker’s about to go wash his balls.” 

Peter squints at him, “yeah, girls tend to like that.” 

“Yeah- sure, whatever you say, buddy.” Nick looks between everyone’s face while he slowly asks, like everyone is scared of the answer. 

“Do you… Do you not wash your balls?” 

“Showering is a scam made up by Dove soap. People say you only need to shower like, once a week.” 

Peter shakes his head, “no, that’s not… Tarrent you work out all the time, I can’t believe I need to tell you, but you gotta wash your sack. In general and especially before you hook up, imagine a cheerleader after four days of practice and no shower asking you to munch down on her.” 

Tarrent is a different breed, “that’s the difference between us, Parker. I enjoy the musk.” 

Peter gags, Booker says, “man, that’s nasty.” Nick’s actually gagging, he’s got the weakest stomach to exist. 

“That’s what separates you boys from us men.” 

Nick whines through another gag, “I don’t wanna be a man, Parker, don’t let him make me a man.”

—-------------

Peter’s quiet as he gets ready. 

His frat shirt looks good, he’s not one to fawn over his body, but he can’t help but nod impressively at his build. His shirts tighter this year, evidence of hard work. His haircut is nice, it’s a little shorter than he normally goes but he’s not sure when he’d get time to go again, so he wanted some wiggle room. 

Even if it was bad no one would see it, at this point he feels naked without his snapback. Peter tucked his necklace into his shirt, he hates when girls ask him about it. He understands they need an ice breaker but it’s the worst one to bring up. 

Brushing down his jeans and making sure his Nike’s were clean, he was ready for the night to start. He doesn’t know how he did it, but Tarrent had set up the entire kitchen by himself, snapping his fingers at Peter the second he saw him, requesting help for moving the couch. 

Peter’s hands gripped at the edge of the couch, nodding at Tarrent, “ready?” They lift it in one go, moving to set it against the wall, then do the same to the other one, and the chairs. All that was left was a giant open space, couches and chairs were free game, but it made more space for more bodies. 

“Make sure the keg fridge is working, I’m gonna go wash my balls.” 

At least he took the advice.

Peter heads to the garage with a plastic cup and pulls at the keg tap, it takes a second and foam rushes out, then ice cold miller light. It was a small gimmick Peter made when he was pledging and he swears to this day that’s what got him sworn in. 

He bought an old fridge off a grad student and emptied it out, threw a keg in and sawed a hole in the front to feed a tube and the tap. It was genius, everyone loved it. Peter chugs the beer and tosses the foam, they’ve got an hour until people start showing. 

Peter wonders when the witch will show up, will he be able to feel her presence before he sees her? It’d be a nice warning but he doesn’t have the best control at gaging people he doesn’t know that well yet. 

He needs to stop thinking about her, and fuck, he needs to make that bed for Harvey before Trent snaps his neck. Racing around for sheets and pillows, Peter opens the chapter door and sets up the pull out couch, he’s not a homemaker by any means but he’d be fine to sleep here. 

“Oh good, I was making sure you were doing your job.” 

Peter jumps, turning to look back at Trent. “I mean, not really my job, but sure.” 

“You’re testy this year, don’t challenge me in front of Harvey, I need his respect.” Wow, the first time Trent ever admitted he needed something. Even if Peter doesn’t like him, he can respect his dedication to proving he could truly run the frat. 

“Sir, yes, sir.” Peter salutes to his president, it makes him break his rough exterior, he’s nervous. 

“That’s more like it, Parker.” 

—----------------

“I think Harvey’s here.” 

Peter moved to stand next to Ethan on his balcony, looking down at a Mercedes pulling into the driveway. “Yeah, that’s him.” His best friend scoffs, “isn’t it shit how the richest kids don’t appreciate what they have the most?” 

“The fuck are you talking about, Kez? Don’t you have CFO daddy money?” 

Ethan’s sharp, “don’t you have dead parents money?” 

It went silent, both shocked he said it. Until they start laughing, if anyone else had said it, it would be in poor taste. When Ethan says it, he’s laughing with Peter, it’s like he shares the massive trauma with him. 

“And dead uncle, check cleared the second after I turned twenty one.” 

“That life insurance pays out, doesn’t it?” 

Peter nods, breaking from the joke for a second. At the time when Ben had created it and fed into it, it was rare to have such a good plan. 

“Oh yeah, he had awesome fucking benefits. My aunt still gets pension checks, he’s been dead for eight years.” 

“No shit? That’s pretty fucking sick.” 

“And not that they had any obligation to, but his company paid for the entire funeral.” 

Peter doesn’t open up much, but it’s casual with Ethan. Even so, he doesn’t like showing his cards, it was minor, but he’s said more than enough. 

“Hey! You, um…” Peter trails off when he relights the joint, the flame expanding before shrinking back down. His voice goes deep when he talks through an exhale, “got any plans with bio chick?” 

“Nah, I’m just gonna play it cool. We have the semester together, too much too fast and it’s a dumpster fire.” 

True fucking that. Obsessed Olivia ruined the first half of his second year, after that, he swore he wouldn’t hook up with a classmate before a two week period. (Unless he counts the lesbians, and he does not, because it’s not happening.) 

“That’s so real, you’re so real for that.” 

“I’ve been enlightened, I went to a sweat lodge retreat this summer and my third eye has been opened.” 

Peter feels sick, “that’s the most rich kid shit I’ve ever heard.” Ethan smacks his arm, “I know how busy you are in the summer, otherwise I would’ve invited you.” Sometimes he feels like Ethan gives him a wink, wink, nudge, nudge look, but he’s also slightly paranoid and Ethan’s usually high. 

“Oh. Damn. So sad I missed that.” It was monotone, and Ethan waves him off. “Sure, make fun of me now, but next year you’re coming and you’ll love it.” 

“No, I need water. I’ll die.” 

“I mean, you get water, dude. They just suck all of it out of you first and push you to the brink of death and delusion until you give into your ego and admit defeat because you’d do anything for a drop of water.” 

Peter stares at him in horror. 

“It’s awesome, dude.” 

The boys turn their heads at a footstep on the deck, Harvey Gyun in his Burberry glory. He pushes aviators up to his hair, arms open wide in greeting, like he was about to tackle them. 

“What’s up, you short dicks?” 

Harvey’s a cool guy. It’s pretty surface level with him, he’s a rich asshole, only because he doesn’t know any better. But he still treats you well. 

Peter could put up with him snapping at a waitress if it meant he was getting a free two hundred dollar meal, and he has. Several times. 

Peter shouts out, “the king is back!” Harvey nods to the clapping, “that he is, that he is. How about you princesses bow for me?” 

He's an alum. You do what they say, kidding or not. 

The chapter officers bow at his request, Harvey giggles and rubs his hands together. “I forgot I have that power now, I’m gonna fuck with Simpson so hard. Be honest, how freaked out was he about me coming?” 

As much as he didn’t like Trent he promised him he’d make him look good. 

“Not bad, he was actually pretty chill.” Ethan doesn’t need to understand the bluff to back it, it’s his job as best friend. 

“More excited to show you he’s ready for this, you did good at preparing him last year.” 

Harvey can smell bullshit a mile away, but knowing the officers were dedicated to their president speaks volumes. The frat will be just fine without him. 

“Good backing, boys. Daddy taught you well. Finish that,” he points at the joint, “and meet me downstairs. We need a toast before the year starts.” 

Harvey Gyun has a kind of energy Peter’s never seen before. “Yes, sir.” Harvey kisses his teeth, rubbing at his lawline, Peter clocks his watch. It’s sixty grand. 

“Such good boys.” 

When the coast is clear, Ethan turns to Peter with a bit lip and a whimper. “I hate how much I loved that.” It’s not Peter’s preferred voice, but he can’t pretend he doesn’t know what he means. 

“Yeah, good boy makes a man feral.” Peter passes the joint Ethan’s way, “kill it.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good boy.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

—--------------------

Peter looks around the room at his small group of brothers. When everyone else joined in, it’d be a blended family. But no one could ever be as close as these six guys, they’ve been through it all together. 

He’s proud of himself and everybody in the room. 

Three years. They’ve made it three years and as dumb as he’s always thought it was, even with all their minor grievances, he’s made friends for life. Even if they fall out of touch for a few years, he'll be at the wedding and the funeral. 

“I won’t lie, it feels weird not hosting freshman Friday this year. But you fuckers have made it three years in and I couldn’t be prouder in my choice of men to recruit. Tonight, we party, we mistake, we regret and we have fun. And- I think Simpson’s the best president you could have.” 

Trent visibly relaxes, everything he’s been praying for came to fruition. Harvey must have known he wouldn’t be able to do any of those things if he was paranoid of being watched all night. Harvey raised his shot glass and everyone did the same, taking a second to clap Trent’s shoulder before addressing the group.

The group chanted as one, “Sig Nu!” 

Shot glasses double tapped on the counter, tequila was a bold choice. It was just the thing he needed for the night to start. Ethan’s eyes on the clock, he nudges Tarrent. 

“Booker, Nick, collectors fee.” 

They leave to stand guard outside the door, nodding at a forming line. Trent leaves with Harvey, Tarrent goes to set up the music that Hasco will take over once he’s done getting a fix. Ethan’s yelling at Hasco through the bathroom door about ‘not getting too coked up’ and Hasco biting back with a ‘fuck you!’ 

Peter shakes his shoulders and takes a step, Tarrent stops him with a hand on his chest. His voice lowered, looking around so no one would hear. 

“Talk to the freshman. I mean it, Parker.” 

It always circles back to her.

Witch, witch, witch, witch. 

“You’re delusional.” 

“Maybe I am, or maybe you trust me and talk to the girl.” 

Peter wants to correct him, inform him she’s a witch because he can’t get her out of his mind. But the real reason she was a witch was because she made Peter want to talk to her more. 

And that’s not who he is. 

So, she has to be a witch. 

Right?

YOUR FIRST WEEK.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH

It may have been the first day of the year, but the cafeteria was buzzing. 

Breakfast in the food hall didn’t feel this busy on a normal school week. It seemed like everyone was sitting with their friends sharing a breakfast burrito or an orange, catching up from summer break. You were entertaining your friend group talking about a summer vacation and part time job you took up to save up spending cash for the school year. 

(And leaving out the real source of cash- it’s cheating and you have to hide your eyes from Noa.)

Five people were at your table. 

Ally Storm, dating Matt Paul of Sig Nu, second and third year roommate. 

Sarah Adams, nursing student and never around.

Prince Otto, three years in and major undeclared. 

Natalie Fieldman, roommate your freshman year, art major. 

And Noa Carter, computer science superfreak. 

The group talked over each other, then quieted down when nine hit. Everyone except you, Ally and Prince went to class. Leaning in when she spoke, you and Prince strained to hear, unaware she’d be spilling secrets.

“All that talk about this summer and you don’t even bring up Harvey?” 

Harvey was the best well kept secret you had, he graduated last year and was an official alumni of Sigma Nu. You’d kept hooking up all summer, before parting ways when you moved back for college, keeping the door open so when he visited there was always an option. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Harvey Gyun? I need when, where, why and what, right now.” 

Holding up a hand you raise a finger at each point, “like three weeks before he graduated, my dorm or his room at a party, to have fun with zero commitment, and Ally would’ve never known if Matt didn’t see me sneaking out of his room at like, five am.” 

Prince sucked his teeth, “he’s a prick, he said he was only sleeping with me.” 

“Oh, what the fuck.” 

Prince was seeing him too? Ally slammed her hand over her mouth, it’s how you felt. 

“Double dipping bitch.” 

You shrug, “you gotta respect a man’s hustle sometimes, Prince.” 

Ally reached a hand out on the table, silently demanding attention. “You know who’s hustling will earn my respect?” A hand patted your shoulder, “our friend here, and it’s currently recruiting season at the frat house, thirty two new boys introduced.” 

Your eyes bug out, “thirty two, what the fuck? How are they keeping count this year?” You could be an actress if you tried.

“Apparently, twelve will be cut by the second week. Then hazing starts, so we’ll scope it out next week and make our bets.” 

“Prince, please pick a winner this year.” 

Green hair swayed when he shook his head, arms crossed. “Nope, I got a thing for the underdog.” 

Ally grinned up at her boyfriend when he took a seat next to her, three breakfast burritos on a plate. Your eyes flashed up for the rest of the frat, scanning the food lines you counted heads. Aaron, Keznek, Hasco, Bakner. Trying not to let the disappointment show you looked back at Ally, talking quicker than lightning to her boyfriend, who definitely wasn’t listening as he scarfed burritos down. 

Looking at the time you frown, you had an appointment with your class advisor and a shitload of books to rent and buy. Standing, you look over to the coffee bar, having enough time you grab another cup and go. 

You rattle your paper cup as show and hitch a near empty bag over your shoulder. “Meeting with my advisor, have a lovely first day my friends.”  Matt gave an extra loud goodbye as you walked off, sending him a middle finger behind your back. Saying quick ‘excuse me’s’ as you passed through the crowd, doing your best to avoid shoulders. 

Approaching the small, self-serve coffee cart you open your cup, then see a ‘please use a new cup each time!’ sign and followed instructions, grabbing a piping hot pot of coffee, full of caffeine and loaded up.

Steam billowed over your fingers as you filled the cup up, peering over the assortment of milk and sugar you grin at your pick of the litter. 

Looking over to your left when someone stands next to you, you feel your heart race. Swiping his card at checkout and sharing conversation with the line worker, you’ve never seen anything more attractive. You allow yourself to imagine him handing his card to a waiter at dinner, a dinner he asked you out to. 

Even more handsome than the last time you saw him, a secret crush. 

Last year he had broken up a fight between some twins that were later kicked out the frat, watching him tear them apart and slam the bigger one to the ground as the other was held back by Keznek, made something click in your brain and suddenly you had your eye out for Peter Parker everywhere you went. 

The comedic irony being you’ve never spoken to him, fairly sure he doesn’t even know you exist. Flying under his radar for two years, last year boosting you with confidence with your hookup partners, you promised this was the year of going after what you want. 

And you wanted Peter Parker. 

Snapping the lid you turn to leave, sliding sideways between two tables. About to cross by the table you were just sitting at, you look down at your shoe, losing balance and shoulder checking the person next to you, quickly apologizing. 

“So sorry!” 

The universe had your back, who else did you bump into other than your crush himself? 

Brown hair hidden under a snapback, a heather gray t-shirt with red details, his fraternity logo on the corner of his chest and a full piece on the back. Brown eyes with a honey ring looked at you, for a moment you felt your chest tighten. Peter Parker was about to talk to you, it felt like your tongue went thick, until his eyes hardened and looked at you with disgust. 

A sneer, “fucking freshman.” 

What a prick, it was a tap and you apologized. He wasn’t the person you’d hoped he’d be, it was a shame he was too cute.  “I hope you fucking choke.” You bark at him, words spilling before you could think, then bolting.

Peter’s eyes go wide at your statement, whizzing by a table and up the steps you leave the dining hall. Stomping away, like your harsh steps could be proof for the discontent you felt. It felt somewhat satisfying, because you felt him watching you all the way out. 

It may have not been what you liked, but there was no way Peter Parker wouldn’t know who you are after today. 

—-----------------------

Shaking your leg and tapping the heel of your foot on the linoleum you look around, arms crossed as you rope over your future. The easy years are over, it’s all about focusing on your major now. 

Your advisor is nowhere to be seen, you can’t imagine how many people she’s seeing this week. Eyes catching the inspirational posters in her office, they’re cheesy at best, but damn if they don’t make you feel slightly proud of yourself for getting this far. 

Gripping your coffee cup, you look at the cafeteria logo and grimace. 

Your meet cute was more like a meet ugly, but maybe he was having a bad day? It’s not like you were all sunshine and roses, the start of the school year sucked, and if you knew anything about last night, he was probably hungover. Unlike you, because you knew the consequences of your actions, you chose to stay in no matter how hard Ally had begged. 

‘C’mon, please?’ she dragged out her ‘e’ and gave you puppy dog eyes. 

‘Tempting, but no.’ your bed was extremely comfortable underneath you. 

‘Please? I don’t wanna go alone.’ if you didn’t know Ally as well as you do you might have given in, but you knew she was full of bullshit. 

‘I’m not getting out of bed, dressing, and going to sit in a loud ass frat house while you practice making babies with your boyfriend.’ 

Argument proved right the next day when she arrived back at the dorm at six in the morning, makeup smeared and a memory of a wild night. The only thing shared before she fell into her bed and passed out for the next two hours was, ‘why did you let me do that? You suck.’ 

Blinking out of the fog when the door opens, you’re greeted by the same advisor you’ve had for the last two years. “Halfway there, kiddo.” Grinning at her words, scared, but prepared for the next step. Mrs. Caliban swayed her hips as she walked to her desk, sitting in her chair and pushing her glasses to her hair. 

“Let’s figure out what books you really need, hm?” 

Settling into your seat and crossing your legs, holding your knee in place with your palms. 

“I’m ready for some of that Mrs. Caliban magic.” 

Watching her look over your classes you appreciate how hard she’s working, crunching numbers and using her knowledge as proof of purchase she tsks as she looks over your requirements log. 

“Half of these you won’t use, my advice? Friend up with a sucker who buys one and use theirs on the rare or off chance you actually need it.” 

Your heart soaring when she gives you your new sheet, initialing on her copy and stopping yourself from bouncing in your seat. You’re getting her a care package, you don’t care what she says. She’s your guardian angel that just saved you six hundred bucks and secured your ski tip this December. 

“Mrs. Caliban, you just did wonders for me, you have no idea.” 

You can’t tell if she’s blushing but her response makes you think she is. 

“The miracles are why I do it, kiddo. Now, if you don’t mind, I have thirty seven others to make today.” 

You caught the hint, scrambling from your seat and hooking an empty bag around your shoulder, prepared to be filled with less books than you were prepared for. How crazy. 

Mrs. Caliban’s voice called out your last name before you could open the door, “I have a good feeling about you, I think it’ll be your year. I’m proud of you.”

And damn if that doesn’t make your eyes water. 

“I’m counting on it now, Mrs. Caliban. Don’t be wrong.” 

Her face tells you you have nothing to worry about, it’s an unamused expression. 

“Tell me, baby. When have I ever been wrong?” 

You can’t think of one. 

—--------------

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face, thumbs moving as quickly as possible across your keyboard. It was already planned for, and it was going to happen no matter what, but what your advisor just did for you tied the bow. And gave you some fun money.

‘Guess who just saved $600 and is DEFINITELY going on the ski trip?’ 

Ally’s response was immediate.

‘telling matt rn so he can secure the spot. SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS!!!!’ 

Butting your hip against the bar doorknob, you swung the door outwards and stepped outside, your eyes adjusting to the light. Blinking quickly, you peered up and took a wide step towards the right, heading to the bookstore. 

‘Dude, you have no idea. Mrs. Caliban is a fucking hero.’ 

‘i will give her my life for making it possible for this to happen.’ 

‘you have no idea, i was about to be so miserable with no other girls there.’ 

‘Prince is close enough.’ 

Suddenly, he has something to say. The group chat was his idea but it’s really just you and Ally talking to each other while Prince reads it and randomly jumps in. Peeking up and approaching the line for the bookstore, which wrapped around the building you looked back down at your messages. 

‘Hey, popping in to say a few choice words.’ 

‘Fuck you.’ 

You heart reacted his message, biting your lip in a silent giggle. Ally laugh reacted, which made Prince follow up with a middle finger emoji. Forgetting how close you were to the line, and lost in the excitement of saving money and going on a ski trip you lose focus and crash into the person in front of you. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!” 

And, oh fuck, you recognize that shirt. It was ingrained in your mind that morning. If you thought he wasn’t going to forget you earlier then you’ve just signed it into law, he’d never forget you now. 

It’s proven when he hits you with the same insult from earlier, you don’t know why it annoys you so much, maybe it’s the assumption. Or maybe it’s because it should be obvious that you weren’t a freshman. 

“Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.” He says it with a bitter laugh, like he’s just so funny. 

Peter Parker seemed like a nice guy. You didn’t know him, sure, but when you watched him at parties he seemed nice and respectful. And sure, you get his discomfort but only to a certain level. You did break his personal space twice, but him berating you and making you feel like shit just because you weren’t paying attention was a dick move.

It was an accident, both times. And you apologized profusely, at this point it’s on him to not accept the apology and be bitter. It says nothing about you and everything about him. So, it’s only fair if you call him out on his bullshit and state the obvious, he was a dick that spewed too many pet names. 

It reeked of condescending and you didn’t have time for it. Maturely, you spun your back on him and redirected your attention on your phone. 

Immaturely, Peter asked if you backed down, thinking you couldn’t win in a pissing contest with him. 

You kept reminding yourself it spoke more about him than yourself, until you really didn’t understand the anger so you just have to ask. 

This message was sent privately. 

‘What the fuck is Parker’s problem and who hurt him?’

‘sig nu parker? i dunno, why?’ 

‘He’s a dick. Is he normally a dick or has he singled me out to be his hate train?’ 

‘why is parker picking on you?? no, he’s very nice. what did u do?’ 

‘I bumped into him twice and he keeps calling me freshman :(‘ 

‘well… u better kiss and makeup cause you guys are airplane buddies on the trip.’ 

You stare at your screen with an open jaw, Mrs. Caliban was wrong, it was a terrible year and it literally just started. 

‘Oh you’re fucking with me, right?’ 

‘... right, Ally?’ 

‘😶 ummmm i would lie, but there’s no point.’ 

‘Oh my god, take one for the team and just sit with me. You’ll survive without Matt for four hours.’ 

‘i would. i swear i would, but we already bought the seats, speaking of… i was praying for a miracle and pre-bought your seat soooo. 😬’ 

‘And Prince wasn’t a good enough option????????????????????’ 

‘ok, princess. to be FAIR we didn’t know you hated each other so…’ 

‘plenty of time to kiss and makeup tho!!!’ 

Feeling safe enough to turn around, you ease when he’s got his focus on his own phone. Safely avoiding each other, you can breathe better. 

‘Just so you know my current situation, he’s actively hating me so you kiss and makeup that.’ 

Until your shoes hit his, and he hits you with a cocky grin that sends your heart skipping. It’s unfair he’s so attractive, he can’t be mean and hot, they cancel out. Unless it’s on him, because then it’s down right tempting and frustrating. 

“This one’s on me, sweetheart.” 

Knowing you’ll have to keep the peace for at least three months makes it doable, and if you can keep it cool, then you could avoid each other peacefully. Until a five hour flight; with him, you’re rounding up. 

Peter’s offer makes you question his character. He went from hating you in a second to.. dare you say flirt? Yet again insinuating you’re a freshman, you were about to correct him but stopped. No use, he’d figure it out soon enough. He’d also find out his flight partner soon enough, and if you thought you were unhappy with the news, you couldn’t wait to see him blow up. 

You could see a backup plan written on his face. His attitude flipped in a second, he went from displeased to charming quicker than you’ve ever seen. 

It’s not right how much you wanted to give in, but you wouldn’t be so easy, especially after he’s been so mean. 

Calling him out on his bullshit, you could see he was humbled a bit. Not expecting his play to be announced step by step. What made it better was gaining the upper hand on him, this time you sent him away second guessing himself. 

Smirking, you pull your phone back out. 

‘Nvm, thought it over, Parker seems fun.’ 

‘oh. so he flirted with you.’ 

‘Now, why would you even say that?’ 

‘cause i know you, lol. also, he’s a tough guy to hate. it’s something about him.’ 

Well, you’ll just have to figure that out yourself. 

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH

The science building smelt like chemicals, a faint mixture of formaldehyde and bleach. It was oddly comforting and felt homey. Even if you felt like everyone around you was smarter than you, it didn’t feel intimidating. Everyone supported everyone in this hall. 

Your feet subconsciously match to the beat of the music flowing through your earphones, smiling at a person sharing the hallway when you curve around the corner. You liked biology just fine, so much so you’re minoring in it. 

But you could also admit that this particular semester was going to drag on. Field botany just wasn’t your thing. Plants were incredibly boring to you, they always have been. Save the planet, produce more trees, stop cutting them down, produce more oxygen, all those things. 

At the end of the day, learning about plants sucked the life out of you and you were feeling very neutral about the class. You followed a classmate through the door, grazing over the mostly empty room. It was smaller than you expected, you had the pick of the litter. 

Middle, middle row was the superior spot. Close enough to pay attention, but far enough to not gain it. Sitting in the center left you throw your bag in the seat next to you and start to set things up, pulling out your laptop, the class syllabus and a pen. 

Putting your headphones away and sitting straighter, you focus on the whiteboard, in rainbow bubble letters is your professor's name, ‘Dr. Thatcher.’ It’s cute, you grin at the small hint of personality. Watching students slowly fill in the back rows you sit straighter knowing your row would be next, hopeful your neighbors would be friendly. 

Your head turns when the seat next to you is filled, it’s a frat boy. 

“God, I am so fucking excited for this term, how about you?”

It’s Ethan Keznek. You never studied him, you knew who he was but you never actually noticed him, but looking into his eyes all you could think of was how long his eyelashes were. It seems like he’s noticing you too, he’s sly with it but he’s looking you up and down. 

“Plants aren’t my thing, but I’m assuming they’re yours?” 

A toothy smile, you can immediately tell he’s had braces before. He releases a breath before exploding, “god, they’re amazing, aren’t they? Self sustaining, self producing, they literally give us the air we breathe. How could you not find plants extraordinary?” 

Ethan’s eyes have a twinkle, it shows passion. You tilt your chin at him, “please tell me you’re majoring in botany, the world needs a lorax.” He breaks into a laugh, it’s charming and contagious, you smile with him. 

“Lucky guess, what’s yours?” 

You shift in your seat to face him better, “biology’s actually my minor, I’m majoring in english.” Ethan whistles, “big reader?” You nod, “if you ever need some recommendations, I’m your girl.” 

Ethan tilts his head and sticks his hand out, “Ethan Keznek, nice to meet you.” You stick your hand in his and shake it, it’s strikingly soft. You introduce yourself and his smile grows, “well,” he says your name and pauses, both of your eyes looking to the front when your new professor enters. 

He talks softly, “I will make it my personal mission to make you enjoy plants this semester.” You turn to focus on the front but talk out the corner of your mouth, “unless someone like you cares a whole lot…” 

You bite back a grin when you catch him laughing silently, both of you sitting in quiet when your teacher starts to introduce herself. She’s young and a redhead, everything about her seems symmetrical. Something tells you the semester wouldn’t be so bad. 

The class was an hour, followed by an hour lab. Class wasn’t bad, the first day was always easy, mostly introductions to the class, the work and the expectations. You stood and stretched before slowly repacking your belongings, Ethan working at the same speed, you assume to keep up with you. 

As he zipped his backpack, Ethan cleared his throat and looked at you. You raised your eyebrows and waited, “I know it’s the first day, but would you want to be my lab partner?” It’s the first time you’ve truly met him, but you feel nothing but comfortable around him, he’s kind. 

“It would be my honor.” 

—---------

Peter Parker was handsome, and pretty, and captivating and slightly mean. You couldn’t stay away from him, but his attitude was enough to make you question if he’s worth the frustration. 

You swore to yourself you’d go after him this year, you promised you’d get him into bed. But you can’t deny how good Ethan looked in a lab coat; even safety goggles couldn’t dim those green-brown eyes. 

“God I missed this, I was separated from test tubes and pipettes all summer.” 

You breathe out your nose as a laugh, “you’re one of those kids that lost his shit over getting a chemistry set for christmas, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, mouthing numbers as he counts his drops, looking at you and the sheet in front of you, bouncing back and forth until you catch the hint. 

“Oh!” You scribble the reaction, smiling when he corrects you. “It was a botany kit.” 

Looking over at him you can feel a tiny tug on your stomach, it felt like you were losing the plot from Peter. You wanted it to work with Peter, you didn’t really know him outside of surface value, but it felt like you did, and you know that sounds weird, but when he’s around you feel a bit more like yourself. 

But Ethan’s easy. “Of course it was.” Ethan’s back to measurements, “you doing anything Friday?” You nibble at your cheek, you know what he’s about to ask. “Nope, you?” He nods, “the frat’s doing freshman Friday,” Ethan looks over his shoulder to ask you, “planning on coming?” 

Peter may have asked you first, and you promised you’d be committed to the task, but if he viewed you as a backup plan, you should have one too. Not that Ethan was a second choice, he was just another option at this point. 

“Are you kidding? The Sig Nu freshman welcome is famous for a reason, you think I’d miss it?” Ethan diverted his attention to the PH chart on the page resting between you. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He cleared his throat and nodded at a test tube, “that’s a solid four, don’t you think?” You hold your hands up in surrender, “you’re the plant expert, lorax.” 

Your pencil is plucked from your hand, he writes his fours odd. He can’t stop making you smile, “well, unless someone like me cares a whole lot…” 

—---------------

The entire group was at your dorm. By the entire group you mean Ally, Matt, Prince, and Natalie. A pack of forgotten cards scattered on the floor, everyone focused on their red cups and speaking over each other. Sarah was unable to join in person, but she’s on a facetime call and jumping in when she can.

“On god, I’m gonna fuck my atonamy professor this year.”  You choked at Sarah’s comment, Natalie immediately cheering, “who is it?” Sarah bit her lip explaining, “just the hottest hunk of ass to exist. Dr. Youge, and trust me, I wanna go rogue, if you know what I mean.”

“Can confirm, he’s sexy.” 

Matt breaks from his twelve minute makeout with Ally, “Prince, you think everyone’s sexy.” He’s nodding accordingly, “because they are.” 

“Is this a good time to say Nate and I made it official?” The group overlaps in exclaims, Natalie in the hot seat for a second, her cheeks on fire. 

“When?!” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

“What?!” 

Natalie pushes her hair behind her ears, gold jewelry on display. “Um, well, basically he said he didn’t picture himself settling down but the idea of someone being able to swoop me up made him sick.” 

You and Ally form a chorus, Prince joins in halfway through while Matt claps his hands over his ears, “awwww.” He can’t stand the squealing, “yeah, yeah, yeah…” Matt kicks your knee, “did you know Harvey's coming on friday?” 

Interest piqued, you hadn’t known, but the promise of the night ending in sex was in your cards and it makes everything about the first week of school better. A reward, if you will. 

In two days you have three prospects, Mrs. Caliban was right, this was your year. “I didn’t but…” your eyes shoot to Prince’s, you’d claim dibs because he was yours first, but you didn’t want a hookup to cause a friendship to rift.

“Oh please, I was sloppy seconds. He’s yours.” You stick out your tongue, “why else would he come?” 

“The frat. To help the frat kick off the start of the year, because he's an alum. Of the frat.” 

Natalie scoffs, “Ally, tell your boyfriend he’s stupid. Harvey’s obviously coming for girly and girly alone. Your frat is just a cover up.” It wasn’t, but Matt was gullible and hell bent on proving you wrong. 

“No, it’s tradition. All the old chapter presidents come back after their first graduation. It’s a hello and goodbye thing, like a, um… what am I thinking of, babe?” Ally fixes a piece of his hair sticking straight up, “passing of the torch?” Matt’s thick hand squeezed her bum sending Prince gagging and Natalie blushing. “So fuckin’ smart, I love when you know what I’m thinking.” 

Natalie jumps up after looking at her cracked phone screen, “and I’m thinking Nate’s wondering where I am cause I forgot we had a date tonight.” Ally hissed in through her teeth, “play the ‘helped a crying friend’ card, say Matt and I got in a fight.” 

Matt stage whispers, “we didn’t have a fight, right?” His girlfriend shakes her head, patting at the tuft of hair sticking up from his scalp, “no, honey.” A grin cracks, “good-” Ally interrupts, “unless Nate asks, then we got in a fight and you made me cry.” 

“A total mess, she was weeping all over the floor. Natalie had to help me get her into bed.” Prince jumps in, “I was also there, and crying in support of the Matt strike.” 

“So, call you guys if I need to bury a body? Got it.” You speak over the group laugh, “yeah, right. Call Noa, she’d have that shit taken care of in an hour.” 

“No, but that’s actually so true.” 

“She’s scary but in a sexy way.” Matt groans, “again with the sexy, Prince, good lord.” 

“Everyone’s sexy! We’ve been over this!” 

Natalie slowly gathers her things, giving you and Ally a silent salute at the door, Prince and Matt bickering back and forth. Looking back at your laptop you shrug, Sarah’s made another silent escape. You wave to your friend watching the door creak open, Natalie doesn’t feel bad for missing out. Neither does Sarah, apparently. “Okay, have fun, byeee.” The door slamming made the boys stop, blinking aware and immediately forgetting why they were debating. 

The main squad together at last, you bring the real topics to the table. Clearing your throat and pouring a new drink, you look at the group. “So, Paul, what’s the inside scoop with the pledges and how do I make money out of this?” (As if you didn’t already know.)

Ally and Prince start speaking over each other. “Nope!” 

“Not happening!” 

“There’s a reason Matt doesn’t vote! He’s biased!” Matt plows right through, “thou shall not steal, it’s a commandment, babe.” You snort, “and what would I be stealing?” 

The blonde shrugs, “my knowledge.” 

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

Sleep was tasting good today, you planned on sleeping in as long as you could. The type of sleeping where you get tired of sleeping and open your eyes wide awake and well rested. 

The keyword was planned, it’s been a nice summer off from Ally and Matt, because you forgot how they were early risers and were dependent on you for their enjoyment. 

“Hey, get up.” You politely ignore the request, it’s already too bright, Ally ripped the curtains apart so you’re hidden under your pillow. 

“Oh roomie, please rise.” Even when a pillow slams down on your butt you don’t move, you even attempt to hold your breath, hopeful they’d think you were dead and let your body decompose into your mattress. You wheeze for air and try to scramble from the bed when Matt throws himself on top of you, bouncing and pushing all his weight into you, rattling your name off like an impatient toddler. 

“I miss the days when Ally slept at the house,” you try and yell it out, it comes out in squeaks when Ally mounts Matt, “it’s my day off and I’m getting dogpiled!” 

“Get up! There’s belgian waffles at the dining hall!” You had the entire day to nap, there were waffles to be eaten. You wriggle around until the bodies on you disappear and you’re heaving for air. Throwing the blanket off and standing you give your friends a staredown before ripping your shirt off. Matt throws his hands over his eyes and screams, “thou shall not commit adultery, thou shall not commit adultery!”

“If you sleep here you see my boobs, Ally knows the rules!” Matt’s screaming at his girlfriend, “it’s a sin! Adultery is a sin!” Ally pushes his side, “you screamed sin before you saw nipple!” You’re changing clothes as fast as you can, if anything Matt would be scarred and keep Ally with him at his place, then you might be able to get some real sleep. 

“Sorry, Matt, but, uh… maybe if you sleep at your house you won’t see my boobs?” Ally gives you a glare from God himself, “Matty, this is what she wants. Next time, you better stare right at them.” Her boyfriend cries out, “no!” You roll your eyes, “all covered, you sinner. I’m ready for waffles.” 

Matt can’t even look at you in the eyes, a weary finger is pointed at your chest. “Temptation lives in you.”

—----------------

 If there wasn’t butter coating each small square in your waffle, there wasn’t enough butter. Noa Carter slides into a seat next to you, wiping syrup from your chin, you smile and take another bite. 

“Pledge secured?” Your eyes shoot around, looking for Ally and Matt, it eases your racing heart when they’re still in line loading up. 

“I’m meeting with Trent tomorrow night.” You feel gross, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do. “Do you think anyone’s gonna find out?” Noa chews on the straw from her ice coffee, “if Trent lets it slip to anyone else then Matt finds out, if he finds out Ally does, and once she knows, everyone knows.” 

“Fuck, I know. He can’t say anything, we- I mean, I have leverage.” 

“You think he can’t buy his way into school again?” You shake your head, speaking while you chew, “not without everyone knowing.” Noa tilts her head, she’s saying ‘fair point,’ with her motion. You grab her hand, “hey, thanks again. For the help, and keeping it between us.” 

Noa was nice, but not kind. She was a valuable resource for the group but made it clear she was into friendships for the transactional side. Noa could keep a secret, and she knew people in places you didn’t know existed, but if you used those talents she’d need yours in return. A deal with the devil each time you talk to her. 

“You’re indebted to me, you know that, right?” She was serious too, not fucking around while trying to get the last bit of coffee through the ice. You nod stiffly, it could be today or twenty years, but when she calls in that favor you have to abide. 

“Hey, Noa!” Ally’s always nice, Matt barely looks at her before shoving the corner of a waffle in his mouth. Noa looks at him in disgust and taps her knuckles on the table, “I'm out, see you later.” Ally pouts, “bye, Noa!” She smiles politely, “goodbye, Ally.” 

You thank her again with your eyes, “you coming to the party tomorrow?” Noa rotates her hand back and forth, giving you a so-so response. “We’ll see.” Watching Noa walk off you can understand how people find her both mesmerizing and scary, she carries herself in a way that screams she’s the smartest in the room and you believe it. 

“What are you wearing tomorrow?” You face Ally and watch her chew on a strawberry, “dunno yet, wanna dress me?” Her face lights up, nodding quickly she swallows, “I got this top over the summer and it’s gonna look so good on you!” Matt speaks staring at his phone, a gameplay blasting through his speakers. “Will Harvey Guyn find it hot?” 

If you could reach across the table you’d smack him, instead you finish your waffle. “Does he even have a room there, cause fucking on a twin is torture,” you look at your roommate, “unless we put the beds together…” 

Ally raises her hand to cover her mouth while she eats, “I’ll be sleeping with Matty at the house, when I come back Saturday afternoon, and the room is how it was when I left and my sheets are clean… I’ll be none the wiser to what happened.” 

You slide your plate away and reach your fork over the table to steal a banana slice, “I was joking but it’s nice to know you’re so-” you chew and stare at Matt while he rubs at his nose and wipes it on his pants; you look back at Ally and grimace. “-kind.”

“Harvey’s crashing in the chapter room, so unless you like a pull-out couch I recommend staying at yours.” You look at Ally, “what’s the chapter room?” You’ve never heard of it, or seen it. And you’re positive that besides the top floor where the members slept, you’ve been in every room of the house. 

“A secret room that no one but chapter officers are allowed to be in. I’ve seen it but I’ve never been inside. I tried one time and Matt told me to leave.” Eesh, if Matt kicked Ally out that means it’s a cardinal rule. “So even if I wanted to, I couldn’t sleep in there?” 

Matt nods, “correct.” Ally leans into her boyfriend and grabs his elbow, he keeps his focus on his phone while she whispers in his ear. Taking some time to look around the dining hall you recognized a few faces, waving at a girl you shared a few classes with last year. 

When you looked up to the upper level, you locked eyes with Peter. You were being sucked in and couldn’t stop. It was like he was telling you to come closer, come talk to him, like he’s inviting you to his table. The chatter in the room fizzled away, time stood still. It felt like your hearts were in sync, it felt like he was looking into you, it felt like you had a crush. 

It felt stupid to think anyone could come close to him. 

Peter wasn’t looking away, instead analyzing you the same way. He wasn’t sneering, he was curious. You never knew brown eyes could be so captivating, you wonder if he knew how dangerous he was. 

Forced to break away when Ally noticed, “who are we looking at?” You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want anyone to know. You stop her from turning, “I thought I saw someone I went to high school with,” you look back up, Peter disappeared. 

“False alarm.” 

-----

It was just you and Spider-Man in your room. 

His plush body laid across your chest, your arms wrapped tight around had flattened him. You spent your day watching Netflix, but after hours it became boring and you switched to scrolling through your phone, hopping between apps before you ended on instagram. 

You clutched Spider-Man tighter when you hit the search tab, his name popping up first. He never used his main account, three posts from the past two years. You found his burner account, it was set to private. You wanted nothing more than to push that request to follow, but he didn’t know you like that just yet. 

The second you were allowed to follow Peter Parker’s finsta, you’d plow through all one hundred and twelve posts, analyzing each one. You chew your lip for a moment and go to Ally’s page, searching through her followers you see his account, you debate on getting her phone and stalk that way, but it feels like cheating. 

It’s eight pm and you think nothing other than frozen yogurt would stop your obsession, so you grabbed your keycard and left Spider-Man to keep your spot warm. 

You had an early class the next day and a party with three people you could talk to, one of them being someone that would forsure be in your bed. If only Peter would have you in his bed first. If you were being honest, you’d love to see Peter fight for you. 

It’s only slightly exhausting being delusional. 

The food hall was dead and you went from mildly hungry to starving the second you smelled food, detoring for a quick sandwich you stuffed it in your bag before crossing the floor for your sweet treat. A prickle on the back of your neck told you to look to your left, at a table with his brothers, was Peter Parker. 

It felt like a gravitational pull, you manifested him being in your life since last year and it’s finally happening. The next time you and Prince go out you’re pulling him into a psychic’s shop for a reading. You were caught by who you think was Tarrent, if you remember correctly, he hooked up with Natalie your freshman year. 

Blue eyes met yours, just the smallest hint of a smile. It sent you turning your head and stepping behind the bathroom wall for a breather, hiding in embarrassment. You counted to thirty before peeking your head from around the corner, Tarrent kept your secret, no one was looking at you. 

This time, watching yourself, you don’t bump into anyone in line for frozen yogurt. You’d hate for another lesson in spatial awareness, unless it’s coming from Peter, in that case you’d take any kind of conversation. 

Even when he’s berating you he’s pretty. 

Leaving with your cup of dessert you watch Peter walk right by you, hearing his mumbles of a Beastie Boys song. You couldn’t help yourself, a chance at hello. It was an opportunity to have a normal conversation, maybe more of his shining character would come through. Taking a seat at a hightop near the bathrooms you wait until your target comes out. 

Humming at the taste of sugar hitting your tongue you look over to his table, you notice Ethan and you hope he doesn’t notice you too. To put it bluntly, you didn’t want Peter thinking he had competition. You don’t even consider Harvey Guyn as competition, he was just a good fuck. He didn’t get dinner with you or take you on dates, and you didn’t want that. At least not from him. 

Harvey’s conversations were dry and always built around impressing the people around him. He had great successes for someone his age, but daddy’s money didn’t impress you much.

You sit straighter when you hear the bathroom door open, listening to Peter mumble rap a chorus you jumped in, “another girl, another fight.” He jumped slightly, surprised to see you sitting right next to him. Taking another bite you stare in his eyes while you wrap your tongue around the spoon, Peter sounds breathless when he speaks. 

“Hey.” 

“Hello, Peter.” 

The look on his face told you if he didn’t notice you before, he did now. Did you just stand out from the crowd with one word? You think so. Peter clears his throat lightly, “and you are…” he wants you to fill in the blank, you find some joy in being mysterious, even if it’s just for another night. You pluck your spoon from your mouth, a wide smirk paints on your lips. 

“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” It mildly annoyed him and it made your stomach tug, something about his expression made you happy to bother him. Until he called your bluff, you might have planned this one interaction but everywhere else he just seems to notice you. You’ve always had a wandering eye for him but he’s just now catching on. 

Giving him a scouts honor, you promise you haven’t been following him, because you haven’t. It’s that universal pull, each time you’re around him it’s like you’re tasting air while also being breathless. He’s pretty, too pretty for his own good. 

Peter’s tempting even when he’s slightly misogynistic, you think he likes your attitude. If there’s one thing you learned, it’s that a man likes it when he has to do a little chasing. You have an early class and Spider-Man at home. 

Sliding from your seat, your shoes squeak on the linoleum. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” Dare you boldly claim he looked a little disappointed? It seemed like he was. You wish him a goodnight and he returns it, you can’t stop your satisfied smile when you feel him watching you leave. 

Quickly stomping up the stairs you look back at Peter’s table, you escaped with only one person looking back at you. Tarrent shoots you a wink, it wasn’t one that was directed at you, but directed at your actions. He knows nothing of you but you have his support, it makes you curious at best, cautious at worst. You stare at the floor until you reach the door, pushing out and taking in the fresh air. 

It didn’t feel as refreshing as when you were with Peter. You shrug it off, you already had someone waiting back at home. 

Spider-Man’s just as dependent on you as you are him.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH

Morning classes sucked because they were in the morning. Morning classes were awesome because you felt like you focused better, and there was a better student to teacher ratio. Ally whined when your alarm went off, you stood with her in solidarity, because fuck waking up to a slow steady build of music. 

“Sorry, roomie.” 

Her hand poked from a blanket, waving you off from across the room. You weren’t sure if it was in annoyance or understanding. She had another hour before her class and she was planning to crush thirty of those minutes by hitting snooze. 

You moved quickly and quietly, only packing what was needed, and opting for an oversized university hoodie sans your bra. You believed in one thing, casual friday; and you honor it every week. Silently shutting your dorm door you cruise down the hallway, taking in the deep silence and empty scene. 

You weren’t a morning person at all, you preferred to wake up slowly and on your own terms, most times hitting snooze way too many times. But you loved the slow calm of the morning, watching the sun fully rise, hearing birds scream the earth awake, feeling empathy for every person with tired, puffy eyes. 

Morning’s were gentle, and sometimes you really enjoyed gentle. Friday was your creative writing class and you think it’ll be your favorite for the next year. 

Your hypothesis proved true because your professor was the hottest silver fox you’ve ever seen. Every fantasy of being bent over your teachers desk was racing through your mind, you didn’t know how you could ever pay attention. 

When he talks, his words curl around your ears, a stubble buzz in your stomach makes you focus in on his lips, watching them pout around ‘S’s. “Hey,” she was late, but Noa was there. “Hey,” you whisper back. 

Her smirk is devilish, “talk to Trent yet?” It’d be a punishment until you finished your plan, then she’d let it die. It’s something to do with making her efforts worth it, and making you owe her a favor. You almost regret asking her, but the payoff is worth the narcissism. 

Since freshman year, you, Ally, Prince and Natalie made a bet on one person rushing to make it into full recruitment. Sarah joined last year but backed out this year, she’d be too busy in her nursing classes, she made it pretty clear she’d be absent this year. 

When it started everyone pitched in a hundred bucks, Natalie won. Last year everyone pitched in five hundred, Ally won. You love your friends, but it left a sour taste in your mouth that people who didn’t need the extra pocket money won. 

You weren’t lying when you had a summer job, but it was quickly drained with class and book payments. None of your friends had to worry about that. So, when you found out that your high school friend's ex-boyfriend's little brother was rushing for Sigma Nu, a plan formed. 

You upped the stakes this year, big time. Tripling the honey pot by three, fifteen hundred each. That was half of your summer job money, but the payoff was worth the temporary loss. You had an in at the frat and you knew how much the competition games meant, being number one fraternity was the most important thing for Sig Nu, especially after losing it last year to Alpha Delta. 

Next step was getting someone to secure the information, enter Noa. She had cracked into every frat on campus and gotten the files, printed them out and completed the job with a pretty folder. It was Noa’s idea to get dirt on Trent, you commended her for her smarts, she claimed she just really hated him. 

The real plan was making sure your pledge made it in and no other friends won so you wouldn’t have to share the honey pot. It was skeevy and made you feel slightly dirty, but sometimes you have to play in the mud so you can eat dinner for the year. 

As long as no one found out, you’d be okay. Although, deep in your heart you know that while your friends would feel betrayed at first, they’d understand and come around. Mostly because Matt would use some christian wisdom on them and smite them into forgiveness. 

“Tonight.” Noa nods, “you impress me, friend. You really, really do.” You give a nervous smile at your new professor when he calls you out for talking, with his wise smirk, you believe Peter Parker may have some competition. 

—----------------

At fifteen past four, you got the message you’ve been waiting on, you bit your lip and opened the text, the contact saved as Harvey G. 

‘You’re coming to the party tonight, right?’ 

‘Just for you 😊’ 

‘I love when you lie to me, it really gets me going.’ 

‘You know what gets me going? Fucking you on a twin XL.’ 

‘Dirty talk, that’s my girl.’ 

‘Wear something pretty for me and I’ll let you call me daddy tonight.’ 

‘You wish.’ 

You’d be wearing something pretty tonight, but not for Harvey. You were dressing up for the pure intention of catching Peter Parker’s eye. It was a personal mission to turn you from a backup plan to number one, worse comes to worse, you’d pull out the best friend card and use Ethan as a pawn. Harvey was a set hookup, you didn’t need to impress him with anything. You’ve never even slept in the same bed, and you didn’t care to. He looked like a snorer. 

Sending a quick text to Ally to try and figure out the game plan, she responds with a very general answer, so you text Prince to come over and entertain you. He responded with a salute emoji, ‘prepare to be entertained.’ 

—--------

You and Prince are tilting your head at the same angle, you’re trying to make sense of what you were seeing but the proportions weren’t adding up. It didn’t seem natural, you block out the exaggerated moaning and follow in tilting your head the opposite way when the camera switches positions. 

“I mean… that couldn’t… feel good… right?” Prince is looking for your opinion, you nod with him. “Yeah, I don’t… this can’t be real, right?” It’s like you've been heard, the camera angle changes and you’re staring at a man’s asshole as he piledrives into his female co-star. Prince gasps with you, “oh my god! How is she doing that?!” You whistle low, “drugs, Prince. Lots and lots of drugs.” Suddenly, Prince becomes interested. 

“You know, sometimes I forget how much the female body amazes me.” You narrow your eyes, “call me a female again, I dare you.” Prince’s voice squeaks, “no thank you, you powerful, beautiful woman.” You pat his green hair, “good boy.” 

For once, Ally entered into your dorm without Matt following behind. Prince clapped and told her he was proud she could walk inside all by herself. Her response was, “aw, you’re so cute when you’re lonely.” Prince pretended to bite her.

“So,” Ally opened her tote bag and pulled out a paper bag filled with Sammi’s Sandwiches. “Wanna eat and get ready?” Prince starts bowing, you follow suit.

 “All hail queen Ally.” 

“Damn right, bitches.” 

The second you took your last bite Ally had you in front of your closet mirror while she stood behind you with two shirts on hangers, alternating to hold up each one over your torso. 

“Ugh, I wanted you in the green but I think the black would be better.” “Yeah, I think if I hang around Prince it’ll be too much green, ya know?” Prince coughed and breadcrumbs spewed. “I’m sorry, you think you’ll be hanging out with me instead of Harvey?” 

“I can’t exactly go in there, grab him, and get out, can I?” Your roommate nods while she fixes your hair, “you absolutely can, I do it with Matty all the time.” You roll your eyes at her in the mirror, “that’s different, you guys are like… common law married at this point.” 

Prince is sitting sideways in a chair letting the blood rush to his head, he sits up slightly and slips out a possibility while you adjust your bra strap. “What are the chances Harvey gets so plastered tonight you won’t hookup?” 

The elastic snaps on your shoulder when you give him a cold glare, “don’t even try to be funny.” He grins wickedly and presses his thumbs to his middle fingers, “not funny, babe. Manifesting.” 

Ally has to hold you back when you lurch at him. 

—--------------

You’re lucky you have Prince to keep Ally occupied, you’re a little too lost in your thoughts as you all walk towards frat row. Keeping your arms to your chest you conserve heat, it’s starting to get chilly at night. The first thing you wanted to do was get Trent out of the way, then you’d chat with Ethan while you scope the scene for Peter. Oh god, Harvey. You had too many men to entertain tonight, it would be near impossible to keep them from bumping into each other outside your revolving door. 

You just had to play calm and make a game plan. Number one would be Trent, number two would be Harvey, so you could make plans for after the party, number three would be Ethan and certainly not least, you’d be keeping an eye on Peter Parker. Your palms feel clammy thinking about your secret with Trent, you push each plan back by one. The first step would be getting some liquid courage. Brought back to life by gentle bantering, your opinion is needed. 

“I could totally ice Matt out, right?” 

“Bro, I have two hundred on it right now.” 

“You think I can’t live without him?” You butt in, “no, but you can’t let him think you’re mad at him. Even when you’re fighting you tell him you’re not mad at him. It’s gross.” Prince nods while Ally gasps in offense, “I’d love to see it, I think he’d have a mental breakdown.” 

“Is it so terrible of me that I don’t like making my boyfriend sad?” 

You hang an arm around Ally’s neck and pull her in, “it makes you a better girlfriend than I could ever be.” She giggles and hangs onto you, “I think frat boys like that, maybe it’s time you start sleeping with a member and not alumni.” 

You’re not hiding anything out of spite, but because you felt like you wanted to figure it out on your own. And she’s a little pushy, if you were to spill on Peter before ready she’d try everything possible to get Matt involved. Sometimes Ally’s wingmanning ruined potential hookups, and by sometimes, it’s every time. “Ha. Good one.” 

Prince steps in to hand his arm around your neck, you three of you stumbling in unison. “Don’t worry, friend. You’ll have your pick on the ski trip.” You flashed a smile, following a crowd of bodies across the crosswalk.

Letting each other go when you hit the first frat house you fix your shirt. Ally was right, it looked really good on you.

There were at least forty kids waiting to get in, only two members on door duty. Following freshmen up the steps you smile at a brother, Prince pays his entrance fee while you hold hands with Ally. 

You take a deep breath, and release it when you step in the house.

Welcome to the start of the year.

[nburkhardt]

Every Time You Shine, I’ll Shine For You.

Soooo this was originally going to be full one shot, but I’ve decided since it’s been sitting in my drafts for months, that I’m just going to post it as either an unfinished piece for now. I might try to come up with a second half but for now enjoy this soulmate au ✨

Having a soulmark wasn’t necessary for Steve. Sure, seeing the word- the nickname his soulmate will eventually call him is nice. But it’s not needed, not in his eyes at least.

At the age of five years old, everyone in the world gets a nickname on their wrist. It’s fate telling you your perfect match, that the other half of your soul is out there for you. It’s the ultimate fairytale growing up, that it burns when you hear the nickname said by your soulmate and there’s an instant spark, instant connection. It’s the bedtime story, the ultimate love story and something to wish for.

It’s a wish everyone wants but Steve Harrington.

He has a very good reason to not like the idea of having a “perfect match” out there for you. While he heard the stories and sees the potential in it, he grew up watching his parents be in love without being actual soulmates. Hears stories of their love and ideas of finding love on your own, deciding to show the world that they don’t need fate’s help.

It’s beautiful and he wants that. Wants to make his own story, find his own match. There’s no need for fate to help him.

On his fifth birthday, he watched ‘Dingus’ appear on his wrist, it made him pout while his parents laughed and kiss his head, told him not to worry. That he doesn’t have to be with whoever fate picked for him and joked about only being five.

It eases his five year old mind.

His parents aren’t surprised to watch him grow up to be a true romantic, isn’t surprised to see his love in everything and how having a soul mark doesn’t stop him from having crushes or falling in love.

Life goes on but after some failed relationships and the disaster of a relationship with Nancy; seeing the nickname give him some hope that somewhere out there, there is someone for him. Someone who fate decided is his match, which growing up he hated it.

At eighteen, he really thought he’d already be with the person he’d love forever (and who would love him). But instead of that, he’s single and not at all close to figuring out why fate’s pick for him would call him “dingus” of all things. To top it all of he’s stuck working at the new Scoops Ahoy until he hears back from the colleges he applied too.

The uniform is lame, it’s in the middle of the brand new mall and it’s leaning towards being too cold in the shop and he doesn’t even know his coworker yet, hopefully they’re not expecting him to be some big shot like he was in high school.

Those days are long gone, he’d rather be his lame and hopeless romantic self instead of the asshole keg king he was.

His first week of working is spent being laughed at by ex-teammates, being ignored by his only coworker and failing to get at least a date with someone. It’s not his longest week, but it’s real close.

After a total of three weeks of getting ignored and laughed at by people he flirts with, his coworker, Robin decides enough is enough and- “maybe with this you’ll try harder”

Glancing behind him, she’s standing there with the whiteboard from the back but instead of the random doodles she drew, it looks like a score board with You Rule/You Suck on it.

There’s already three tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and he can’t figure out if it makes him want to laugh or cry, maybe both.

Definitely both.

“At least I’m trying here, you could find your soulmate with flirting!”

Robin rolls her eyes and hangs the board up behind her, “I’d rather suck on a lemon than flirt with guys”

It surprises him for all of three seconds before he rolls his eyes, whatever, he thinks. If she wants to miss the opportunity to find a soulmate, so be it. He’ll continue trying to find love, he doesn’t need whoever fate picked.

The board is definitely mocking him, he thinks several days later. Currently there’s five tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and a big fat nothing under ‘You Rule’. Robin thinks it’s the funniest thing on the planet.

He doesn’t find it funny, he finds it embarrassing and stupid, actually. Really embarrassing, especially when she brings it out when another girl their age walks in. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose.

Which is confusing, she told him explicitly that she does not like him and will only ever tolerate him. So, her practically chasing people away doesn’t make sense.

Her loud crackle of a laugh starts as his head nearly hits the counter, “That’s another one for the you suck column! Zero for the you rule, popeye!”

Standing up he turns around with a glare, “yeah I can read!”

“You sure about that one, Dingus?”

His wrist burns and he can’t stop his eyes from going wide. There’s no way, absolutely no way. This is a fluke, she must have seen his mark one day. That’s why his soulmate mate, fate’s pick, is his co-worker.

His disbelief and discomfort most show on his face because Robin shifts on her feet, “I’m uh, sorry. If I took that too far, really-uh I don’t think that way about you and, and- this is was” she looks uncomfortable now, tripping over her words.

Opening his mouth to calm her down, he find that his words are gone. The disbelief stopping him. He quickly shuts it and looks away from her. The shop is completely empty. When did that happen?

“Steve- I really didn’t mean to be well, mean.”

All he can do is nod back, “no, uh, I get it. Really- uh. It’s fine.”

How exactly is he supposed to do this? He’s never once called her a nickname! Unless she was his but he isn’t hers? He doesn’t know. Either way he’s still a little disappointed.

“You sure? Because uh, you’re looking a little pale there”

A laugh bubbles up and before he realizes it he’s on the ground with his back against the counter and tears on his face, “ye-yeah. Sorry.”

He hears her move around and then there’s a foot bumping his, he moves his head to look at her.

“We’re currently low on everything, did you know that? It’s unbelievable, just wiped clean.” Robin explains with amusement dancing on her face, “Scoops Ahoy is officially closed for the day”

That surprises a laugh out of him as tries to loosen the tension that built up, moving his arms he puts his chin on his knee, Robin copies him. They’re just looking at each other, comfortable in this silence.

“Sooo”

“Look-”

Their eyes meet and both burst out laughing. This feels different, at least for Steve. There’s something soothing coursing through him now, he never felt on edge with Robin but he wasn’t always this comfortable either. A smile spreading on his face, he didn’t know about this feeling when you meet your soulmate.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He snorts, “they might be worth more, Birdie”

Robin gasps and he looks at her, but her eyes are wide and locked on her wrist. He follows her look and he can’t exactly see what she’s looking at but he knows it’s her soul mark.

They really are soulmates.

This is where I’d put the continuation… if I had the idea for it! (Said in that fairlyodd parents meme)

Anyway! If this brought you some inspiration, you can totally take whatever piece you want and write something! But please know I had this ending up as Steddie with side of Rockie (Vickie&Robin)

Permanent taglist: @spectrum-spectre @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @bookworm0690 @strangersteddierthings

[lalacliffthorne]

🦇 masterlist 🦇

Azriel 🗡

midnights - part I part II (fluff)

🌪 idiot 🌪 (smut, fluff)

⚔️ I don't think now's the best time ⚔️ (battlefield, fluff)

📃 the basic rules of friendship 📃 (fluff, smut)

🌫 if you go down then we go down together 🌫 (angst, smut, fluff)

Rhys 🦇

💜 starshine 💜 - part I part II part III part IV part V part VI (fluff, angst, smut)

Cassian ⚔️

coming soon

Feyre 🏹

💗 fuck it, let's do it again 💗 (smut)

drabbles 📄

hickeys - payback - busted (fluff)

sick (fluff)

cheering up (fluff)

late nights (fluff, modern!Az)

got you now (fluff)

tired (fluff)

modern!roommate!batboys - drabble series

modern!batboys as your roommates headcanons 🦇

modern!batboys halloween headcanons 🦇

modern!batboys christmas headcanons 🎀🦇💕

ride home (fluff, 🦇)

failed dates suck (lil angst, fluff, 🦇)

nightmare (fluff, 🦇)

bad days and library floors (fluff, 🦇)

a cold and a movie night (fluff, 🦇)

nap time (fluff, 🦇)

periods (fluff, 🦇)

snow (fluff, 🎀🦇💕)

grey days at christmas time (fluff, 🎀🦇💕)

new years (fluff, ���🦇💕)

midnight ride (fluff, 💕)

the one where they stop being idiots (fluff, headcanons, 💕)

sleepy in the library (fluff, 💕)

sunday mornings (fluff, 💕)

when Azriel has a nightmare (angst, fluff, 💕)

date night (fluff, 💕)

to warm up, one needs a shower. and Az. (fluff, 💕)

another drabble with Az and his motorcycle. (fluff, 💕)

🦇 = roommate!batboys centered

💕 = roommate!batboys!Azriel centered

🎀 = roommate!batboys christmas centered

mood boards ✨️

starshine

starshine mood board by @verena9003

starshine mood board

starshine aesthetic

dark faerie aesthetic

I don't take requests. sorry, loves, but most of the time, I can barely deal with needing to get my own ideas all exactly right. *hides behind laptop*

[toomanywatchers]

My Thoughts on WatcherTV

Hi, I am here to put away my meme-making skills to express my genuine thoughts on Watcher’s announcement; WatcherTV. Before I get into it, this is for any of those at Team Watcher who might be seeing this message: Just know we love and support everything you do for us. Y’all truly do not get the credit you rightfully deserve. I hope with this change to a separate streaming platform you guys can create the content you want to make, pull in creators that you’ve always wanted to work with, and share voices/topics that may have not had the chance to shine because of YouTube’s heinous algorithm. I know myself, and many others, are excited to see what WatcherTV brings. For instance, I already watched Road Files and the trailer for Travel Season on the new platform. And guess what? I love it! I just love BTS-centric shows and seeing the vibes established on Travel Season. Along with more Lizzie/possibly-more-sightings-of-other-Team-Watcher-peeps content?!? If this is what holds for the future of WatcherTV- oh boy, do you already have me more on board than I already was.

I also send my sincerest regards too. We all know that the internet can be a negative space with many sharing their uncensored thoughts, and I hope none of you take the hate to heart. I also hope you can take the weekend to breathe, drink some water, spend time with loved ones, and celebrate this huge step you all are embarking on. I am truly excited to see what is to come on WatcherTV will be there with each step to support.

Now to my fellow fans of Watcher. I understand the concern and it is okay to have concerns. It shows that you truly care for Watcher as a company and don’t want anything negative to come about with this decision. BUT on the other hand, spreading hateful messages? Not. Fucking. Cool. It is quite simple to express concern in an appropriate/respectful manner. Remember, this is a company full of living and breathing human beings. Trying to justify “who is to blame” and pointing fingers is just childish. Guess what? No one is to blame, it was a company-wide decision that they all made and spent months upon months to create.

Yes, it does suck to see content that was free for years be moved to a paywall, but remember they are independent artists that have to pay employees, freelancers, locations, and themselves! Have we not been advocating for fair pay among creative individuals when it comes to WGA/SAG-AFTRA strikes and then AI art taking jobs away from artists? If this is what the company needs to do to survive while not sacrificing the high-quality content they make for us, then we should give it a shot! Plus with the current discount available, the subscription is not that pricey for the amount of shows they produce! Literally for January and a bit of February, they were uploading 2 podcasts and 2 separate shows… that’s a lot of content! If you have never sat down to produce, direct, write, perform, edit, and all other aspects it takes to make a fine-polished YouTube video, it takes a lot of work!

To add to this, Watcher already makes content that far expands past what is recognized as normal for YouTube. They build individual sets for each show that is produced, and they travel all over the place for Ghost Files and soon-to-be Travel Season. It costs money to produce content and YouTube?- It’s just not how it was years and years ago. Views on long-form content have been dipping and with the over-saturation of sponsorships, I am assuming they are not making enough profit to sustain the business on the current platform. Also, monetization on YouTube has been a killer for many channels because of vulgar language issues and just being demonetized for no rhyme or reason. By moving over to a streaming platform of their own they can continue to create what they want to create, and make it without any restrictions or rules holding them back. Too pricey? Find some friends who also like the content and split the pricing evenly. Only want to watch certain shows? Then make a monthly subscription for the time that show airs. There are many solutions that you guys see as a huge problem, and don’t get me wrong I have my concerns. I shared those concerns briefly in my theory post about them still being a young channel, but I’m also unaware of the actual analytics and revenue that is currently being brought in currently to the company from YouTube alone. 

It’s a huge step that has garnered negative feedback from those spreading hateful messages about the company and to other individuals for supporting the boys *cough cough I see your messages and comments cough cough* is truly uncalled for. I will be taking a bit of a break from my socials as I wait out the storm though if I have the energy, I might stream on Twitch again and talk through this with y’all if you can sit down and have a civil discussion. As for now, it’s your choice if you continue to support. My goal is to continue to make funny little memes, and if I am allowed to I will be working on a crack video pt.2 after Travel Season premieres. Remember to be kind and to put yourselves in their shows. Just the boys even though they are receiving the brunt of the hate, but for everyone at the company.

Your local memester watcherina - Fritz.

[trainsinanime]

The thing is: It is not actually obvious and self-explanatory that you don’t leave negative comments on fanfic and fan art. It’s certainly not against any terms and conditions even if anybody did read these, and sites like Fanfiction.net actively encourage pointing out negative things with their “review” verbiage. I can totally see why people think negative comments are allowed.

And “don’t leave negative reviews” is arguably an innovation. Just ten, fifteen years ago, the rules of fandom were different. The rule then was to leave “constructive criticism”. That changed. Obviously it depends a lot on the specific subculture you’re looking at, both then and now, but overall there has been a shift and it’s understandable that people who were comfortable with the old ways aren’t on board with that.

But on the flip side, I think the new way is just better. It’s more fun to see fun comments and to leave fun comments. The truth about constructive criticism is that most “constructive criticism” actually wasn’t, it was just criticism with a random unhelpful “why don’t you try this thing” thrown in. Doing real constructive criticism requires skill, and also that you trust the author and that the author trusts you, all of which are hard to come by on the internet. Ultimately it just boils down to a more wordy version of “you suck”. And I know that there are people who argue that they have a right to say “you suck”, even without any constructive criticism, and I think technically, that’s true. But you won’t be able to make bad fanfics disappear. You’ll just spread a bit of misery around. In the long term, that’s less fun.

We sometimes treat fanfic like big published literature, and yes, a very small number of stories may end up being so impactful that they deserve it. But that’s a rare exception. The default in fanfic is that we’re all just here to have fun, and it’s way more fun to engage with fanfics from a positive point of view, and just ignore the fanfics that aren’t to your liking. That’s the real criteria: Does my comment make the fandom more fun? Unasked for criticism just doesn’t, as it turns out.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Iphicles (Male!Reader x Percy Jackson PLATONIC)

Big brother!reader x Percy Jackson PLATIONIC Just headcanons of him protecting and helping and just genuinely being a good brother please 🥹

tw angst, mentions of emotional and physical domestic abuse, injury

NOTE: I was thinking of making this a series and continuing it through to Last Olympian. This one doesn't have as much Percy x big brother interaction, but think of it as a setup. Let me know if you want more!

Did you know Heracles had a brother?

While Heracles was the son of Zeus and Alcmene, Alcmene had a husband already - Amphitryon, a mortal man. So there were two babies in the crib - the child of a god and the child of a mortal.

This child was named Iphicles. And while he was never as strong as his brother, he was a powerful warrior in his own right, and accompanied his brother on his quest.

You think about this myth a lot.

You're about four when you meet Poseidon. He went by Yuri then, and it was only later you found out it was short for one of his other names, Eurykreion, which meant wide-ruling.

Yuri loves your mom, you know that. But it's hard, that year, when they get close, and you start to get attached to this guy who might be a father figure to you, and he vanishes.

Leaving your mom pregnant, and you with nothing.

Nothing but a brother with a weird name.

You're ten when Mom meets Gabe. Gabe seems kinda cool at first. He lets you ride in the front seat of his Camaro when he takes you to school, teaches you how to open his beer bottles on the corner of a table (oh what a red flag that turned out to be), and he takes an interest in you, when most of your life since Percy has been about the really weird stuff that starts to happen around him.

You remember screaming when you saw that snake in Percy's crib.

You're pretty sure that that lady who tried to take Percy from his stroller wasn't just wearing a funky coat, and actually had wings.

Or that bus driver with the one eye.

Mom freaks out you bring home a book about Greek myths from the library. She bans you from showing it to Percy.

And that's when it kinda clicks. These monsters you read about... they're part of the world, but they fit in differently. They're not robbers on the dangerous roads between Athens and Thebes, they're mattress salesmen and reclusive sculptors, and kindly old women on the bus, and teachers that constantly demean your little brother for his dyslexia.

Like, you're ten, and MOM can barely even say dyslexia, so how could your six year old little brother figure it out?

And then Gabe shows his true colors. All the little warning signs that could be forgiven from a nice guy start to balloon to almost comic proportions.

You've been a good big brother to Percy. Yeah, it's your job to take care of him, but you love him too. He's tiny and adorable and afraid of everything, and you just wanna show him that things can be good. Like the blue food your mom makes, or the little moments you can make for him that aren't weird or worrying.

But then Gabe tears your little brother away. Percy gets sent off to boarding school after boarding school. For six long years, the only time you see your brother is during the summer, or when he gets expelled.

Part of you wonders if he feels that same sibling bond, if he wants to leave his fancy schools to get back to you.

Gabe's a shit. Way more when the little kid isn't around, and as you get older, he gets bolder, more willing to get nasty the less you look like a baby.

You try not to get bitter, but it sucks so much, living like this. Your mom works soul-crushing hours at that candy store, and her mean boss says you can't just hang out there after school anymore cause you'll distract her.

You wander New York as long as you can after school rather than be alone with Gabe.

And the one time you tried to talk to a counselor at school, she perked up oddly and mentioned your little brother Perseus (how did she even know?) and her eyes changed color and you ran as fast as you could.

You feel angry at the world. At Gabe. At your mother, for letting your brother get sent away, for doing nothing when Gabe yelled at you for no reason, for all the little things, and at yourself for blaming her, for being powerless yourself, for barely recognizing Percy when he gets home, for almost hoping he gets expelled soon so he can reunite with you sooner.

You've had suspicions since you were nine. You turn sixteen and you scream at the Harlem River, daring Poseidon to fight you.

And for any other mortal, he wouldn't show up, but a hand lands on your shoulder and you turn to punch Yuri in the gut.

Your hand breaks, but he pulls a starfish out of his pocket and plasters it over your hand and you can feel the bones mending, and you both sit and talk.

The gods are real.

And they suck.

Your mom refused his offer of a palace under the sea, and you can't decide whether to hate her for it or hate Poseidon for dating your mom when he's already married and he knew he couldn't stay.

He's never been there for Percy. Never been there for your mom. Never been there for you.

Gabe hits her, does he know that? How long until he starts hitting you? Hitting Percy?

How long before the dwindling light goes out?

You hate him so much, you growl, but he hugs you and all the fight leaves, like the tide finally setting back out.

You are not his son, but in that moment you are of the sea, and he understands you.

You are the son of Sally Jackson, the brother of Perseus, and you will be the Earthshaker where the Earthshaker himself cannot tread.

It doesn't change anything, but when Poseidon finally says it, finally says "I am sorry," it moves you. There is someone out there that can see and acknowledge your suffering. Poseidon has lost countless children, was eaten by his own father, betrayed by his brothers. He has witnessed the entire breadth of humanity, and yet in this moment, a god apologizes for the woes of a mortal.

You are sixteen when you meet a god.

He will not be the last.

Poseidon kisses your forehead, drenching you in seafoam as he vanishes, and you feel reborn.

You are worn smooth by waves, hardened by salty brine, and you bide your time, even bringing yourself to smile at Gabe when you get home. You make the bean dip so Mom can rest when she gets home, and you smirk when Gabe is visibly shaken by your confidence.

You wait, because like Poseidon said, Percy is getting older, and things may come to pass. He will need a guardian, a guide.

There is a place for children of the gods, like him.

Camp Half-Blood.

[robinsboobshoes]

❝ MEETING ROBIN BUCKLEY. ❞

↳ In which you flirt through your mutual friend, Steve.

Everything is all vividly coloured, with neon-coloured lights, water fountains, crowded tables and various children's rides, like the carousel and the Indiana Flyer. People are packing everywhere, all with brightly lit expressions stretching across their faces, following along with family and friends in huddles. The town of Hawkins is already a hellhole, with or without a new mall, and nothing can possibly change that.

Your eyes darted around, hoping to find the potential ice-cream shop you'd heard about. Your search quickly ends, once you see a brightly coloured store, with a red lettering sign reading: Scoops Ahoy!

You got to the store with unexpected difficulties, after pushing countless people out of the way and getting some foul words and looks in return. Already, you can hear some outstandingly cheesy sailor music playing loudly, making your nose scrunch up in disgust.

The interior is somehow worse. The walls are covered with blue, red and white striped wallpaper while seating booths are placed around the ice-cream parlour, red leathered and shiny. It was quite shocking to you that it was almost empty, since, Starcourt Mall had just opened. Logically, wouldn't people crowd around an ice-cream parlour on a summer morning?

You walked up to the counter to find Steve, a tall teenager your age, with styled hair and an ego too large for anyone to handle. You hit your hand on the bell that's on the corner of the front counter, causing Steve to bring his attention back to reality, rather than dozing off in his thoughts mid-task.

“Ahoy!” Steve greets from the register, not bothering to look up from whatever he had been occupied by.

“Wow, this place really complements the look." You taunted, smirking, when he finally spots you. The sailor theme is rather hilarious.

“Y/n?” Steve smiled, leaning on the counter as he takes you in, “What’re you doing here so early? My shift doesn't finish for hours.”

“I needed to kill some time,” You shrug, “I thought I'd pay my favourite sailor a visit.”

Steve puffs, opening his mouth to respond. But, before he can say anything, another voice pipes up from around the corner. It's raspy, laced with sarcasm.

“He’s only your favourite sailor because you haven’t met me yet," At the hatch behind Steve is a tall girl with broad shoulders, a tall figure and a careless posture. She has her hands placed on the further counter, while she starts twirling a black ring around her middle finger. She has black bracelets and a watch on one wrist, a spiked bracelet on the opposite. Both hands are painted with black nail polish, which shine in the light, presumably because they are newly painted. She was, like Steve, also dressed in a ridiculous uniform, which she somehow made look attractive. “I promise I’m much better company.”

“Well, you certainly look better in the uniform.” You look her up and down, chuckling, as she returns a flirtatious grin.

Steve looks pathetic as he starts running a hand down the front of his ludicrous smock, “I think I make this thing work pretty well for me.”

The girl scoffs, wide-eyed, “The loser board says otherwise, Dingus.” She calls, pointing at the whiteboard that's propping up next to her. The board is split in two: one side had, "You Rule!" written above it, and, the opposite side, "You Suck!". With no surprises, The 'You Rule!' side has no marks below it, whereas the other has a large amount of five drawn on.

You laugh at this, fingers tapping against the glass of the countertop, as you look at the board, then back to her, “Things can only go downhill when he’s forced to use words.”

She laughs with you briefly, then taps her name badge with her finger, "I'm Robin, in case you didn't know. Robin Buckley."

You raise your left eyebrow, "I do recall being in most of your classes, y'know. Just because I hang around with Steve doesn't mean I'm a complete moron."

Steve pouts from where he stands, arms crossing defiantly over his chest, “This is not a duo I'm here for at all. I think we should have a rule that you two are not allowed within thirty feet of each other."

“You always try to keep me away from the pretty ones." You roll your eyes, lips set into a smirk as she watch Robin’s cheeks turn a dark shade of strawberry red. For someone with such a tough attitude, she sure was easy to fluster.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “—I hate fighting for your attention. You make me feel like a fool when around ladies with you.”

“I'm sorry," You shrug your shoulders, "Must be a weakness of mine.” You breath a laugh once more, glancing over at Robin, who was already staring.

“Are you flirting with me through Steve right now?" Robin starts shaking her head in disbelief, "Is that what’s happening? — Because, if you are, I’m disappointed in myself that it’s working.”

Steve swiftly turns to you, “My charms have rubbed off on her! She's like a charm-sucking vampire. She’s the reason I can’t get any girls.” He rants, pausing with wide eyes as if he’d came to some great realization, “It all makes sense now...”

“The only thing I’ve gotten from being around you is brain damage.” You respond, with a playful eye roll.

Robin purses her lips and places a hand to her hip, feeling a surge of confidence, "If you want to ever flirt without proxy..." She pulls a black pen from her pocket, then holds out one of her soft hands to take one of yours. You slide yours into her palm without hesitation, both of you sharing a smile.

She quickly finishes scribbling her phone number to the back your hand, her warm fingers brushing across your skin. You feel a small shiver briefly down your spine, throwing you slightly off guard. Robin stands back with a pleased smile, "Call me?"

You smile softly, nodding your head, "Consider it already done."

♡︎♡︎♡︎

first fic here, kiiinda nervous... (is the robin fandom still active on tumblr?¿!) interactions are appreciated! 🫶🏻

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: Here ya go, Chapter Eight!!!! As always please remember to read the intros etc. I don’t give permission to republish, copy, or use my work elsewhere.

And please like/reblog! I always appreciate it :)

Masterlist     Series Masterlist     Series Intro     Your First Year Hogwarts Letter

Chapter Eight ~ Academic Chess

The first class of the day, according to her schedule, was Transfiguration; taught by the same professor who first greeted them the night before.

The morning had been a bit strange; where she was used to waking to the sound of seagulls and screaming, she was now awakened by the other girls in her dorm rummaging about to get ready. She’d never had to share a room before, and certainly not with so many people. Her roommates seemed nice… a little strange but who was she to judge? As she’d unpacked her bone collection and trinkets to place on her shelf, they’d unpacked magazines and scented candles, and given her funny looks as she placed her giant new journal on her desk. But so far they had yet to curse her name or scurry away in fear – in fact, they even introduced themselves. Saoirse Speck was the first to greet her, an Irish girl from Cork; she was a little odd herself, with absolutely no filter before she spoke and always seemed to have her head in the clouds. Another was Millicent Bullstrode, she had a round face and always seemed to be frowning just a little. Millicent looked the most nervous out of them to meet her, but shook her hand anyway. The third girl was Bridget Byrne, a pureblood from Windermere, a little rude but still more tolerable than some. They invited her to sit with them for breakfast, (Y/N) could see the reluctance but agreed nonetheless.

Finding their way to Transfiguration could have been easier – there was no map provided for students and there weren’t any signs about the castle – but eventually, after many stops to ask for directions, they made it in time.

The classroom was located on the east lower floor of the castle, just up a flight of stone stairs. It was a magnificent room, (Y/N) thought, every part of the great castle was. Stone arches decorated the walls, great windows curving up to the ceiling let in so much light that no candles even had to be lit, and the rows of wooden desks were all set for them to start. She was terribly excited – not that anyone could tell.

“Good morning, class.” Greeted the professor when everyone was seated. (Y/N) could have sworn she wasn’t there a moment ago. “Welcome to your first lesson of the year. For anyone who may not remember, I am Deputy Headmistress McGonnagal – head of Gryffindor house and your professor. I am glad to see you all on time.” She paused and looked at each face in the room. “Well, most of you. It seems we have a few missing students. But never mind for now.”

The professor moved to stand by her desk, gesturing to the chalkboard she had prepared in advance. “I trust by now that you’ve all had plenty enough time to revise your copies of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration and are already informed of the contents of its first chapter, if you’ll all please open them up.”

Everyone did as she asked, and Saoirse sucked in a breath. (Y/N) looked to her side to see that her roommate had forgotten her textbook, and on the first day too. She rolled her eyes before placing her own copy between them in a silent signal to share, ignoring the grateful look the girl sent.

“Today we will be learning about the Transfiguration Alphabet, something I expect you all to be fluent in before the end of term...” The professor began her lecture as everyone started to take notes on the scrolls provided. As the chalk began to write on the board various symbols and their meanings, which they had to copy, the room soon fell into concentrated silence, and the next time (Y/N) looked up, there was no sign of the professor but a cat on her desk. But still, she busied herself with her notes:

Monday 2nd September, 1991

Class Rules:

No food or beverages in class

No silly behaviour

Be professional

Pay attention and ask questions

Note: there will be a 10 question quiz after each week.                                                                              

Introduction to Transfiguration

Transfiguration is the most sciantific scientific branch of magic. It is the defined art of changing the form of an object or being into a different form. Forms: Transformation, Conjuration, Vanishing, and Untransformation. It is a very dangerous form of magic and easy to mess up. When you are working with the molecules of an object you are changing its basic princaple principles.

There is a strict and systematic approach to incantations and wand movements. Take care to be precise.

Transfiguration Alphabet:                                                            

A – O

B – θ

C –  

(Y/N)’s notes were cut short as the great wooden door to the classroom burst open. The class turned as two boys in Gryffindor robes scurried in, panting. Ron whispered something to Harry that she couldn’t quite make out, then the cat jumped off the desk and suddenly revealed itself to be their professor. Oh that explains it, thought (Y/N), as if her teacher being a cat explained anything really.

When the boys finally found a desk to share, just behind (Y/N) and Saoirse, they let out a breath and hurried to take notes. (Y/N) turned, despite knowing she shouldn’t, to face them. “Don’t worry too much,” she said, though her face was unreadable her words were clearly meant for comfort, “you’re not that late. I can lend you my notes later if you like.”

The boys shared a glance. “No thanks,” said Ron, his eyes lingering on the Slytherin emblem on her robe, “we’re fine.”

(Y/N) frowned a little, studying their faces for a second, both looked a little unsure, but she turned back to the front of the room and brushed it off.

When everyone arrived and settled into Potions, (Y/N) was surprised to find that their professor was not present. Wasn’t he supposed to greet them on entrance?

Whispers and gossiping travelled about the room; some were about her, most were about Harry. (Y/N) was never truly one for gossip – if someone had something to say they could say it to her face, ask her directly; and she felt the same as they took glances at Harry and he kept his head down, hair covering his scar. Supposedly no one had yet learned their manners.

Suddenly, the doors slammed open and the noise bounced off the stone walls, rattling the glass jars on the shelves, and in came a tall, dark-haired man dressed all in black. Briskly walking between the tables and to his desk at the forefront of the dark room. Anyone would think the classroom floor was his stage. “There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class.” He announced in a drab voice.

Ah, thought (Y/N), he just wanted to make a dramatic entrance.

“As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few…” the professor glanced at the rude Malfoy boy from the previous day, “who possess the predisposition-” hang on, does he know that boy? Is he implying he’s already had lessons over the summer? That’s cheating. “-I can teach you to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper... in death.” Very dramatic, should she be taking notes on dramatic flare?

Before she could think about picking up her goose-feather quill, she heard the scratching of someone else’s to her right. Near the edge of the row beside her, Harry sat writing on his parchment, gaining Snape’s attention. “Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not… pay attention.” The girl beside Harry gave him a quick nudge, making him look up in time to see the stoic professor make his way to him. “Mr. Potter. Our new… celebrity.” He mocked, which was really not very professional behaviour from a teacher. “Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

The girl beside him eagerly raised her hand, but Harry only shrugged and shrunk back in embarrassment.

The potions master took no notice, only taking the opportunity to humiliate the boy further. “You don’t know? Well, let’s try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

Harry gulped and shifted his eyes to the girl beside him. “I don’t know, sir.” He replied. Of course he didn’t, it was only their first day, after all.

“And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” (Y/N) knew the answer to that one, it was easy, and so did the bushy-haired girl raising her hand, it seemed.

But poor Harry was struggling for an answer. “I don’t know, sir.”

Snape pursed his lips, a couple of students snickered at the humiliation; most just seemed uncomfortable or afraid. “Pity. Clearly fame isn’t everything… is it, Mr. Potter?”

What was his motive in all this silly bullying? (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder. But the sight of Harry – the first person to chat with her on that train as if they were already friends, as if she were more than just a dark, mysterious rumour – sat there flushed and feeling small and… stupid even, she just couldn’t stand the injustice. Before she could even think twice about her actions, her mouth moved of its own accord. “To be fair to him, professor,” she interjected, drawing all eyes her way, “it is only our first day. We can’t all be expected to know our textbooks by heart.”

The man turned to her, standing tall and menacing with a glare that surely would have made any other student quiver in their seats – but (Y/N) Addams had seen far scarier sights than a greasy, middle-aged man who bullied children, and she was far braver than she looked. A family proverb echoed in her mind, one that had been drummed into her and her siblings for years: A sharp mind makes you the most dangerous in the room, a sharp knife makes you the most deadly.

An Addams speaks their mind. Always. And right now, her mind was saying that Professor Snape would be a worthy enemy if he wished it. She also had the potential to be one of his best students, if he allowed it. If Snape had a problem with that… well, hence the second part of the proverb.

“Miss Addams…” Snape drawled, taking slow steps towards her, as if he fancied himself a predator stalking prey. But an Addams was never prey. “I should have known you’d be trouble. If you’re so keen to interrupt Mr. Potter’s questioning, you’ll be more than capable of answering for him.”

He was challenging her, obviously, but even if she got some answers wrong, it wouldn’t stop her from accepting. She held her head high and met his stare with a seemingly innocent one of her own. “I might.”

Snape seemed all the more irritated. “Monkshood and wolfsbane--”

“Are the same plant, also known as aconite.” (Y/N) answered immediately, it was easy – she grew it herself in the family’s poison garden. “Named because it used to be made into a paste and dipped on arrowheads for wolf hunting, since its highly poisonous. Would you like me to tell you about some murder cases involving it?” Some of her favourite murders involved poisons, it would take her all day to recite them all.

Academic battles were much like chess, and (Y/N) just made her first move.

The professor gritted his teeth. “A bezoar can be found where?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, knowing for sure it was in her copy of Magical Drafts and Potions. “I believe it can be found in the stomach of a goat, sir.”

The flash of both anger and impression on the professor’s face made this all the more fun. “And what, Miss Addams, would you get by combining powdered root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood?”

(Y/N) didn’t know the exact answer, but she knew enough to show him up a little. “I don’t know, sir.” She said, waiting for the look of self-satisfaction to cross his face, and when it did, she interrupted any jab he wanted to throw. “But given that asphodel is part of the lily family and therefore poisonous, I’m going to assume it makes some sort of poison – which I wouldn’t know the name of because we aren’t meant to study those until later in our curriculum.”

She was correct, of course, which irritated him all the more. And lucky for her, Snape was head of Slytherin House; he wouldn’t take points away from her for being correct in his class, would he? “You are lucky, Miss Addams, that I am willing to overlook your cheek. The next time you have something to say... you will raise your hand.” He sneered, turning with a swish of his robes and returning to his desk, eyeing the class. “Well? Why aren’t you copying this down?”

Check-mate.  

Lunch wasn’t much unlike dinner the night before; just as excitable, just as loud. The only difference being that (Y/N) was no longer sat alone. Though she now had company, she still felt a separation from the students around her. As Rumi once said: “even surrounded by people, like water and oil, he remains apart”. That was how she felt at Hogwarts; not quite fitting in, away from home and her norms. She couldn’t wait for the end of term and it was only her first day.

Moments later, a commotion began within the Great Hall. “The mail’s here!” She heard from across the room, seeing a few students stand as a great swarm of owls flew into the room… or in all technicality, a parliament of them.

Various parcels, letters, and papers were being dropped all around onto the tables, owls landing near their owners to accept treats or steal pieces of their dinners. “Are you expecting anything, (Y/N)?” Saoirse asked from beside her, opening up a letter and feeding her barn owl a piece of chicken. Was that cannibalism? Maybe…

“Well I’m sure my family have sent something--” She was interrupted by startled shrieks around her, all looking up to see another bird enter the Hall. It was easily twice the size of many of the owls swooping out of its way, a wingspan that sent a woosh of air as it passed, and in its long talons was a parcel with a letter attached. It dropped it in her lap before landing on the table with a graceful flap of its brown wings, head hung low to greet her. “Mortis.” She greeted, tearing up a piece of pork in exchange for its delivery.

“I-is that a vulture?” Bridget cried, eyes wide with fear as the bird in question began to tear apart a full roast chicken.

“Yes.” (Y/N) simply answered, ignoring the stares and chattering as she opened up her parcel. A small box wrapped in brown paper and black string, sealed on the top with the black wax of the family crest; inside was a black quill, a pot of red ink, some more parchment paper, a silver letter-opener sharp enough to perform an autopsy, and a box of matches. She just couldn’t wait to light something with them. The letter was in a charcoal grey envelope, the seal was a rich black, and the crest had been coloured in white – doubtlessly Wednesday’s touch, almost perfect. Taking out the new letter-opener, handle shaped like a dragon’s neck, its fierce head roaring at the end, she swiftly cut open the envelope and took out its contents. She knew from the second she opened the letter that Wednesday had written it; her father would have been writing every word that came into his unorganised mind, and her mother’s nails were far too pristine to stain.

Dear (Y/N),

We hope that your first days at Hogwarts have been interesting thus far. Father wishes to know which house you have been sorted into, obviously (you should know that there is a bet in place, and I sincerely hope you haven’t lost me my pocket money). Mother asks if you have made any friends or enemies yet. I, personally, should hope that you prioritise the latter.

You did pack a camera, didn’t you? We want to see what everything looks like. If not, please inform us in your reply and we will send one over. Mother and Father also want to know if you would like Thing to accompany you while you settle in.

We are very interested to know about your classes and professors, will you be learning how to turn anyone into toads soon? Pugsley has already broken our new guillotine and I think spending a few days as an amphibian would be a worthy punishment. But for now I have tied him up and put him in his closet with his mouth taped shut.

Pugsley and Father are going fishing tomorrow – they feel that they are in need of a distraction while they get used to your absence. I, however, hope you stay there as long as possible. In fact, next time you should take Pugsley with you and it might finally be quieter around here.

Grandmama wants to remind you to practice your knife throwing, as it would be “unbecoming” of you to be a sloppy thrower by the time you return.

We expect your reply to arrive soon. Make sure Mortis is well-fed before you send him back, or he might eat one of the carrier owls he is let loose near. Wouldn’t that be funny?

Awaiting your reply,

Your family.

She couldn’t wait to write back.

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[yourmomazfav]

Axe Wielder (Part One)

Wednesday Addams x Fem implied, mostly gn reader

Summary- What happens when an axe wielding person of interest enrols at Nevermore the semester after the Hyde incident?

Warnings- Mentions of murder, I think that's it

Word Count- 1027

You despised your parents because of what they were doing to you, sending you away just because you may or may not have killed someone. The murder wasn't allowed to be investigated due to it being on private land, and because there was no real proof that you may or may not have cut someone's head in half with an axe.

You honestly didn't understand how being sent to a boarding school for the supernatural and mentally psychotic, you being the latter of the two was going to help in any way.

You didn't necessarily think you were mentally disturbed, just easily angered by invalid reasons, such reasons that caused you to take actions which felt entirely justified and right to you.

You didn't see the problem.

However, parents being parents decided that you were in the wrong and sent you away. It was going to suck ass not being able to torment your parents and siblings anymore. Your parents always being mildly bothered by your actions and your siblings understanding that you meant well.

So now here you were, being quietly driven by your parents to your new prison. The car pulled through the schools gates and instantly the tires began to crunch over the gravel that made up the path. The building seemed to entirely be devoid of modernity taking on a much more medieval look.

''Looks...nice.'' Your mother attempted at consolation.

''Hm, sure.'' You scoffed tilting your head to rest against the window.

''It's for your own good you know.'' Next was your father, also failing at comforting you.

Parents of the fucking year.

The car soon pulled in front of the school entrance and the three of you got out and walked to the entrance. You had heard about what had happened in the previous semester of the school. The Principal had been murdered and even now they were trying to find a replacement.

The inside of the building was just as gloomy seeming as the outside except there were many students littered in the halls. All wearing the same sickeningly blue uniforms that you knew you would be forced into.

When you had enrolled a letter was sent stating you were not under any condition allowed a roommate. It was a little rude but you weren't complaining.

A member of the administration staff came to greet you and your parents soon enough, talking about the boring policies and rules then taking you to your dormitory building, your dorms door seemed different to all the other doors. It looked like it was made of a stronger material and you pretended not to notice the locks, at least they were on your side of the room.

Your dorm was pretty much empty except for a standard bed and desk. You didn't need a fancy room though, so it was good enough.

''It's nice in here too.'' Your father muttered.

''Oh be quiet.'' You shushed him leaving your bags and walking out and following the administration staff member to get you uniform leaving your parents standing there with flabbergasted expressions.

The school was like a maze as you navigated through it with purpose wanting your parents to leave already. Soon enough you reached the reception where you were given your uniform and timetable.

Your parents decided to wait out by the car for you to come back and say goodbye to them once you had your uniform on. And that's what you did.

No tears were shed and there was no need for a hug, just some last minute 'don't kill anyone' advice and a pat on the head.

Once they left you went back to your dorm and unpacked your stuff. You didn't exactly care if you missed a class, you didn't ask to be here and you weren't doing anything wrong. At least not yet anyway.

You started with your clothes first, folding them neatly and putting them away. Then moving to books and your desk lamp you brought from home, followed by any posters and decorations you had. Leaving the best till last, you took your axe out of your final bag and sat it gently at the bottom of your bed.

You stepped back by the door and gave an impressed smile, if only being in this new school was going to be as easy as decorating your room.

The rest of that day was spent sitting and laying on your dorms floor throwing a small ball up in the air and catching, settling a few hours later for bed, you knew you would have to wake up early, and it seemed like the bane of your current existence.

The next morning you got up much earlier than you probably should have, going to the bathroom to shower and get ready putting your uniform on. If you remembered correctly around this time the canteen would have a breakfast menu.

Which actually sounded good right about now.

The canteen was filled with many tired teenagers, some even looking like they were trying not to fall asleep in their cereal and others who actually were. You walked over to the self serve and grabbed some pancakes and some juice going to sit at an empty table.

You imagined that anyone who was coming down to the canteen had done so already so you wouldn't be sitting at anyone's table. You wouldn't have cared much if you were though.

Halfway through eating your breakfast you felt as if someone's eyes were burning in the back of your head, and if you had paid enough attention you would have heard the table behind you discussing amongst themselves about your sudden appearance, one of them with a higher pitched voice talking louder than the others about if you were friendly seeming or not.

It caused you to quietly scoff when you realised they were talking about you and from the sudden silence of the group behind, they must have heard you.

'Oh well, at least they're quiet now' you thought to yourself as you continued eating.

''Uhm.'' A voice from behind you sounded, like it was trying to get your attention, your head turned slightly showing you were listening but not looking back. ''So sorry about that.'' The same voice, it was a girls voice. The one from before, that was talking louder than anyone else on that table.

''It's fine.'' You mutter turning back to your food.

This day was going to be torture.

[steddieficrecs]

Hey! I’m looking for fics where Eddie gets introduced into the story of ST in season 1 (or 2 or 3.. just before 4!) I’ve just gotten caught up with “better by you, better than me” by palmviolet on ao3 and I’m loooving the concept. Thanks!!

Hey, so these kind of fics are my absolute jam and I can’t stop reading them so... here’s a shit ton

hot (sticky, sweet) by ToEdenandBackAgain

"You're abusing company policy,” Steve corrects and Eddie nods, unashamed, and leans forward.

“Fuck The Man, Harrington. Gimme a taste.”

Or: it's the hottest day of the summer so far, and Eddie just wants his due of free samples. Annoying the shit out of Steve Harrington is just a cherry on top.

The Man That I Could Be by ohstars

"Steve Harrington isn't straight. It's been a few weeks since he sat on that bathroom floor at Starcourt with Robin, where she shared her biggest secret with him and unintentionally unlocked an entirely new side of Steve. Since he’s had to come to terms with being open to exploring that side of him, but he's finally acknowledged that he's most likely, definitely, without a doubt into guys."

--

After coming to terms that he may be queer, Steve Harrington does a little exploration on his own and meets the one and only Eddie Munson. Just as things are going well and accepted the fact he's falling for Eddie in their own little bubble, Steve's world is shaken by a tragedy he can't quite talk about. And when the dust settles and he's nearly ready to put the pieces back together, his worlds collide when he realizes his Eddie is the same Eddie playing D&D with the kids. The same Eddie who's now wanted for murder thanks to another upside down monster. How will he save the day when he can barely focus watching his ex mingle with his monster fighting team?

STRIKE TEN. by oaseas

Steve’s striking out. It’s the summer after his graduation, he’s working 9-5 at Scoops Ahoy, and hey, did you hear? He’s striking out. Enter Robin, her ‘you rule/you suck’ board, and a promise to romance the next girl through the door. Except, that’s no girl. That’s Eddie Munson.

Or: One double scoop of pining, please!

“See ya later... sailor!” by JustAPileOfCringe

Eddie wanders the mall and decides he wants Ice Cream. What he didn’t expect to find was former King Steve, all dressed up in a sailor costume with too short shorts slinging ice cream like he was born for it. Huh, weird.

No One Rides For Free by Weird_Witchcraft

“Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”

“No one to get” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”

Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.

when they call your name by librarybooks

Jesus. He observes him with abject fascination, like the former king of Hawkins High is a particularly grisly car crash and Eddie is the rubbernecker of the century. Christ.

Or: contrary to Robin’s data, not all summertime mall rats are immune to Steve Harrington. Eddie Munson certainly isn’t.

destiny has brought us oh so close together by deadratz

The first time Eddie finds him, Steve is crying in the school bathroom after his breakup with Nancy. They're not friends, they don't plan to become friends.

Somewhere along the way they become a lot more.

***

Takes place 1984-1986

[blueberry-macaron]

I'm in a salt mode so lets get into this

One of the biggest problems people had with the L//S is how poorly developed it's been and how less effort it has been put into it, And don't get me started how Adrichat and Maribug barely interact basically making the ship have 0 chemistry.

But then when ships like Lukanette and Adrigami came along, then there's some Toxic L//S stans who bash the characters (and doxx lukanette and adrigami shippers), with their only excuse being "ThEy R iN tHe Way of adr///ette/L//s (Mainly because they're insecure that Lukanette/Adrigami has Chemistry, proper development and effort and their ship doesn't)

I'm so sick and tired of the hate that Lukanette/Adrigami gets.

I'm so sick and tired of the hate that Luka/Kagami gets.

I'm so sick and tired of toxic L//S stans projecting their ship on every. single. damn. thing

I'm so sick and tired of seeing Lukanette/Adrigami shippers get d0xxed, threatened and bullied just because they don't ship the L//S or Adr//ette

Yikes, people doxxed each other because of ships?? For some reason I'm not entirely surprised. I've seen fandoms with super toxic people and the ml fandom sure can be toxic as hell. If you (general) get so worked up about people's opinions about characters from a kids show, you should be denied access to the internet and instead have access to tons grass to touch. But yeah, even just "normal hate" can be frustrating and discouraging, so it's best to just block those people. I completely understand your frustration.

Luka//nette isn't good because they were half canon, it's good because they have a meaningful bond and the root for drama is always outside circumstances and not the fact that they fundementally don't work together. If Mari wasn't Ladybug, they probably wouldn't have split up. That's why I love this ship so much. Besides, they never got in the way of anything. Realistically, no ship can get in the way of a confirmed endgame ship bc, well, it's endgame. So this argument is kind of falls flat (honestly most arguments against Luka//nette I've heard were either not really important or kind of a very outlandish interpretation of their relationship, I don't care about either.)

Heck, even if Luka//nette wasn't the rival ship but just friends in canon who interacted twice, who cares? Shipping isn't supposed to be serious, it's exploring different dynamics between characters and having fun putting them in different scenarios and have them have 6176310278 different first kisses. There's no rule that you have to be on board with the canon ship.

Now speaking of L//S developement (bc now I'm also in a salty mood and I have thoughts)

I and many others have already talked about how s1-4 didn't really do much with them. But I find it funny when people say that s5 did a great job developing they're relationship because... bitch where? I've watched season 5 (I have no self respect) and everything was confusing and over the place and I think that's bc the writers can't make up their minds about which problems the L//S might face actually matter and how they can be solved.

The season starts with Mari making a big deal about how loving Adrien is dangerous because hero stuff. Oh but actually it doesn’t matter, she likes CN now, problem solved! Oh wait no Chat friendzoned her and Adrien is pushing real hard for Adr//nette so they give up their fucking miraculous (in times of crisis I might add), problem solved! No wait, actually the new heroes suck so they take them back, but that’s okay bc being in love and being a superhero at the same time is actually no longer a problem for some reason! The actual problem is that Mari is incapable of expressing herself because she has trauma. And THAT’S the real shit because fucking everybody gets so invested they organize literal dates for them and watch from a distance until they smooch instead of, oh idk, letting them do things their own way. But actually that also doesn't matter anymore bc Zoe just confessed and Mari was so inspired she immediately ran to Adrien. Oh but Adrien is a senti without free will and he goes to england soon whoopsie. Also Gabriel and Tomoe are now Adri//gami shippers because of course we need an arranged marriage deal type of plot. Oh yeah there's also something about Monarch apparently having all the miraculouses but who cares amirite

See what I mean? There's no structure, no actually overcoming problems, it's just random shit happening without any connection to the previous random shit. The characters don't develop in a meaningful way. Mari's only life goal is making one cohesive sentence in front of Adrien and he's kind of just there. I mean he could maybe feel inspired by Marinette's passion for arts and crafts and try out some stuff or he could continue to have no direction in life. Yes, as a teen it's hard knowing what you want to do later in life, but Adrien doesn't even really have actual hobbies he can define himself through. The writers fail not only to develop the relationship as a whole but also the characters involved as people. They could as easily be a situationship where they meed every two days to make out and it wouldn't change anyting. It's just fan service here and there combined with shallow and forgettable dialogue (I think, there wasn't a conversation that stick with me at least) and idk this maybe works as a first love that maybe lasts for a year before they have a dramatic break up and then move on with their lives, But the show tries to sell this idea that the square will actually stay together forever (or have a constant toxic on-off thing bc that's the vibe I'm getting. Plus Bunnyx sort of implied that).

[arc-misadventures]

Onee-Sama

Jaune: Shit…

Jeanne: Hey, don’t be upset, three out of five isn’t bad.

Jaune: Zero out of five! I may have hit the target, but none of them are on target!!

Jaune gestured to the target board where three of the throwing knives were in the target, but none of them were in the target’s circle.

Jeanne: …

Jeanne: Well you did hit the target!

Jaune: That’s not good enough!

Jeanne: Hey, no need to shout. You’ll get the hang of this. It will just take time.

Jaune: It’s not the fact I’m missing the target that’s making me upset! It’s you, and your damn smug aura you have around you.

Jeanne: What? What are you talking about, I’m not being smug about anything.

Jaune: Jeanne, you’re finally teaching me how to be good at something I suck at that. Of course you’re going to be a smug little shit about it, and hang that over me.

Jeanne: What! No I wouldn’t!

Jaune: Jeanne, you’re an, Arc. We are surprisingly vindictive, smug little bastards when we want to. You are no exception to this rule. Why do you think my nickname is, ‘The Vindictive One.’

Jeanne: I thought it was, ‘Big J?’

Jaune: …

Jaune: Shut up.

Jeanne: Hehehehe~!

Acheius: Jaune! Jeanne! You out here?

JJ: …

Jaune: Seems like, Papa, and Mama are back.

Jeanne: Evidently so. They’ve not even been gone for a week; I thought they might have a mini vacation while they were gone.

Jaune: Evidently not.

Juniper: Jeanne, Jaune? Where are you?

Jeanne: We’re over here mom! Do you need something?

Juniper: We want to introduce you to someone!

Jaune: You don’t think she means…?

Jeanne: It’s highly plausible.

Through a clearing of the bushes that surrounded their little training field emerged four people. Their parents, Juniper, and Acheius Arc, and Willow Schnee, and her lovely daughter, Winter Schnee.

Jaune: Well I’ll be damned…

Jeanne: She really is our sister then, isn’t she?

Acheius: Was there any doubt she wasn’t?

JJ: Yes.

Acheius: …

Acheius: That’s fair… Anyway, may I introduce you to her mother, Willow Schnee.

Willow: Hello, I am, Willow Schnee, and this my daughter, Winter Schnee. And, I mus say, you two look like the spitting image of your parents~!

Jaune: I’m not so sure about me, but, Jeanne certainly takes after our mother.

Jeanne: Where else do you think I got my glorious looks from~!

Jaune: Actually I referring to the fact you’re both perverted degenerates.

Jeanne: Hey!

Juniper: True.

Jeanne: Mom?!

Jaune: Try to ignore them, and their insanity. Hopefully you’ll be able to tune them out.

Winter: I will try.

Jaune: So, she’s actually our sister; Are you going to start calling yourself, Winter Arc Schnee, or Winter Schnee Arc?

Jeanne: Go with, Winter Arc Schnee! It sounds better.

Winter: I… I haven’t given thought to such a thing. I’m only here at the request of mother, and Mr. Arc to meet the family. I have no plan to integrate myself further into this family.

Jaune: Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

Winter: Excuse me?

Jeanne: She’ll be smothered in so much family love, and affection she have a mid life crisis.

Winter: I’ll what?

Jaune: More of emotional break down from being smother with genuine love, and affection.

Jeanne: Meh. Same difference.

Winter: Okay…?

Jaune: So I take it you met your other sisters before us?

Winter: Yes, I certainly have; they were quite…

Jaune: Odd, weird, creep…?

Jeanne: Unhinged, crazy, deranged…?

Jaune: A bunch of perverts?

Jeanne: Hey!

Winter: Yes… My new half-sisters are quite… peculiar.

Jaune: Well, if you’re anything like me, Winter you’ll eventually be able to tolerate them. Just barely tolerate them that is…

Winter: I see…

Jeanne: So, Winter, you up for a spare?

Winter: Excuse me?

Jeanne: We’re a couple of young hunters-in-training, and we could use a new sparing partner to really refine our skills. And, you look a bit wound up meeting your new brother, and sisters. So, how about a little spare to release all that tension you’ve got building up in you?

Winter: I’m not so…

Acheius: Ahh go ahead, Winter. It’ll be a good bounding moment for the three of you. Plus, the two could do with having someone else to spar with.

Jaune: That, and dad is tired of mom beating him up because he took it too far.

Acheius: Hey! I only did that once.

Jeanne: Are we talking about that one time you launched me into a tree?

Jaune: Or, that one time you broke my nose?

Jeanne: Perhaps is was that one time you skipped me like a stone into a lake?

Jaune: Or, the time you lunched me through the wall of the house?

Jeanne: Or, the…!

Acheius: Enough! I think she gets it!

Willow: Did he really do that to you?

Juniper: Yes, yes he did.

Willow: Oh… Oh my.

Jaune: Don’t worry! We’re, Arc’s!

Jeanne: We’ve got aura like a tank! We’ve never been badly hurt in a spare!

Jaune: Except for that time he broke my nose because he didn’t unlock my aura before we fought.

Jeanne: Yeah, except for that time… So, would you like to have a small bout, Winter?

Winter: …

Winter: Very well, it would be nice to let out some steam.

Jeanne: Alright, lets do this!

Willow: Are you sure this is a good idea?

Acheius: Relax, it will be a good training exercise for the two of them.

Jaune: And, a great bounding moment.

Acheius: And, an excellent bounding moment for the two of them, yes!

Willow: Should I be worried?

Juniper: No, Jeanne will be fine.

Willow: But, what about, Winter?

Juniper: …

Juniper: Jeanne! No semblance!

Jeanne: What?! Why not?

Juniper: Because you’ve been using it too much. And, its highly volatile!

Jeanne: Man… I never get to have any fun…

Jaune: Okay! Challenger’s! I shall be the referee for this fight. So, when I say stop you stop, understood?

Winter: Understood!

Jeanne: Okay fine…

Jaune: Understood?!

Jeanne: Understood, sir!

Jaune: Good. Now, you will fight until your aura enters the red. Understood?

JW: Understood!

Jaune: Sync your aura meters with me.

Jeanne: Sync!

Jaune: Synced.

Winter: …

Winter: Sync.

Jaune: Synced. Contestants take your places!

Jeanne, and Winter stood roughly twenty feet apart, each reading their combat stances. Each drawing their respective weapons.

Winter drew her sabre a practice flourish of motion; spinning the blade before here, before slashing it to the ground behind her, before narrowing her profile to point the blade at her opponent.

Jeanne stood before her opponent without her heavy armour, he recent growth spurts into adulthood rending her armour to cumbersome, and tight to wear effectively anymore. So, she just strode out with just her shield, and sword.

Her shield was a simple kite shield, but unlike her brothers, Jeanne’s shield was a single piece. It was layered with an intercept floral weave engraved upon the polished white metal, and golden details. Deep blue gems where imbedded upon the shield.

Just like her brothers blade, so too did her shield also double for a sheath for her blade, she drew two feet of solid steel, and as she flicked it out, the remaining length of the blade shot out, revealing a four foot long longsword.

She levelled her shield in front of her, and adopted a defensive stance, and levelled her blade towards her opponent.

Jaune stared at the two for a moment before raising his hand, and shouting.

Jaune: …

Jaune: BEGIN!

A glyph appeared under, Winter’s feet that sent her flying towards, Jeanne closing the gap between them in seconds. Winter expected her to be shocked at this sudden burst of speed, but she merely moved her shield to the side, and blocked her attack.

Winter’s sabre sang out as it impacted, Jeanne’s sheild. It sounds like if as one had tapped the side of their wine glass to gain everyone’s attention. So soothing, and beautiful that she almost forgot, Jeanne’s that was coming straight for her.

For such a small girl of fourteen years of age she could hit like a jackhammer when she wanted to. A quick thrust with her longsword, and quick flicks of her wrist lead to, Winter being kept on the back foot for a time. She thought she was dealing with just your average apprentice Hunter. But, the cool, and calm steely gaze that she held within her eyes was something she had seen in only the most experienced of, Hunters.

Winter thought, Jeanne would see this fight as a simple training bout, a young hunter trying to hone their craft, or an excited girl trying to show off to her dear older sister, something she had seen in the eyes of her sister, Weiss dozens of times before. But, these eyes, these were the eyes of someone who took this all seriously. For, Jeanne, this was not some simple training spar, this was life, or death, and if she failed, she would be as good as dead.

It was a chilling, and unnerving thought to behold that such a young girl saw the world in such a way. And, yet it sent a thrill of excitement coursing up her spine as she smiled at the younger girl.

Winter rushed forward wither her semblance, sabre held before her attempting to stab at, Jeanne. But before she could get close, Jeanne kicked up a wall of dirt, clouding her presence. Winter shot threw the cloud, and landed softly barely being able to react in time to block a fierce strick from, Jeanne.

Winter was impressed. Jeanne Arc was quick on her feet, and even quicker with her blade. This duel of there changed from, Winter wanting to blow off some steam to testing to see this extent of this, Hunter’s true abilities.

Winter jumped back giving her some breathing room. She half expected, Jeanne to chase after her, but she held her ground. She probably wanted to catch her breath too, too bad she wasn’t going to let her do so.

Seven glyphs appeared in the air before her, and seven small white, Nevermore’s came flying out towards, Jeanne. Her eyes darted side to side, and held up her shield, and bloke the six, Nevermore’s, before turning around, and cutting down the seventh one. Winter realized why her eyes darted all over the place; she was counting the amount of summons she sent at her, and since the seventh one never hit her shield she knew it was coming from behind her.

Clever girl.

Winter was going to compliment her, but stopped as she noticed her sword be enveloped in a golden hue before it appeared in a sphere at the tip of her swords before she flung it at her at a high speed.

Her eyes widened in shock as the orb came closer to her. She quickly dodged to the side as it neared her, and exploded, sending her flying. She hit the ground with a roll, and she had to start running as a second orb came charging towards her.

As she narrowly dodged the second blast she slammed her sabre into the ground, creating a large white glyph appear in the ground, and soon a large white, Chimera Grimm appeared. It roared as it charged towards, Jeanne as she held her ground. Winter view was blocked by the large beast, Winter was looking forward to seeing, Jeanne face down such a monster. And, she wasn’t let down.

A white silver blade erupted from the skull of the chimera. Had, Jeanne jumped, and thrusted her sword through the chimera’s skull? It was an effective strategy to implement, risky, but effective. What she actually did however, was quite interesting.

A five foot long handle, and a four foot long blade. A spear to keep her foes at a distance, and strong enough to dispatch large foes with ease. It was an impressive sight to see the way, Jeanne could wield such a weapon. Although, she spent more time dodging the weapon, then admiring its beauty.

Her sword thrusts were admirable, Jeanne was capable of preforming were now shown the true power of those thrusts. Winter could feel the air fly past her as she narrowly missed the head of her spear. She spun on the spot, driving her weapon crashing into the ground, sending an explosive blast as it tore up the earth.

Winter knew she couldn’t handle her at a close range anymore, so she made several glyphs in the air, and sent over a dozen flying bolts of white energy towards her. Jeanne’s eyes widened in shock for a moment before she used her spear to destroy several of the bolts, but she didn’t stop enough of them, as several came, and hit her in her side. She weathered the storm, but the impact of the blasts dropped her to her knees. As she was about to stand, Winter struck. Using the cross-guard of her sabre she caught the shaft of, Jeanne’s spear. Jeanne struggled to pull her weapon free from, Winter’s grasp, only to notice at the last second as, Winter jab her in the got with a concealed dagger she kept hidden in her sword.

Winter knocked the wind out of her causing her to lose the grip on her weapon, allowing, Winter to wretch the weapon free from her grasp, and send it flying through the air.

Winter smiled smugly at, Jeanne only for her head to dart to the side, she could feel her aura being sliced up as she noticed a silver feather fly past her. She quickly blocked several more of these feathers only to look down, and see that the feathers we’re actually the design given to a serious of throwing knives, Jeanne apparently carried on her person.

She looked back to see, Jeanne placing her shield on her back before reaching back, and pulling out a pair of knives. She held

She held the blades in a defensive stance, preparing for, Winter’s next strike. Winter readied to strike, her blades held before her. A challenging smirk sent towards, the young Hunter appreciate who sent her back one in kind. The two readied up, their muscles tense as they prepared to lung at their foes, when…!

Jaune: ENOUGH! The spare is over! Winner: Winter Schnee!

Jeanne: What?! Why are you ending the fight! I can still keep going!

Winter: I must agree, I could have kept going myself too.

Jaune: Plausible. But, Jeanne your aura is at 27%. One more good hit, and you would have been out.

Jeanne: Oh shit, really?

Jaune: That, and your weapons we’re starting to glow.

Jeanne: Oh…

Winter: Is that a part of her semblance?

Jaune: It’s a visual cue she’s about to, or is using her semblance.

Winter: And, what is your semblance?

Jaune: Nothing of consequence.

Jaune walked over to, Jeanne spear before wrenching it out of the ground before turning to his sister.

Jaune: Jeanne, catch!

Jaune launched her spear at her with a wicked force, Jeanne simply turned to the side as the spear flew past her until she caught the spear by the pommel as a cloud of dirt flew by her. She grasped the shaft with two hands, twirling it in the air as it shrunk down to its long sword form before placing it back in its sheath on her back. A serious of moves, Winter couldn’t help but notice were highly well practiced.

Impressive.

Jeanne: At least tell me I gave, Winter a good beat down.

Jaune: Her aura is at, 42%.

Jeanne: Nice!

Winter: It is?

And, it was then that, Winter pulled out her scroll to see that her aura had indeed been knocked down to, 42%. She was impressed, she had expected her aura to have dropped 30%, possibly even 40%, but to nearly 60%.

Winter: Impressive, that is quite a remarkable feat.

Jeanne: Aww thanks… But, I would have totally creamed you if I could have used my semblance!

Jaune: Which is why mom said no semblance. You’re starting to use it as a crutch. Even against me.

Jeanne: Hey! You’re the aura tank, and it only get ls worse when you use your damn semblance on top of that!

Winter: You have a semblance; what is it?

Jaune: Aura amplification.

Winter: Aura amplification; what precisely is that?

Jaune: This…

Jaune walked over to, Winter, and held out his arm, and a golden light enveloped his arm to be followed by a blue white light spreading across her arm. She was about to ask what he was doing when she noticed that her aura was nearly at 70%.

Winter: You can recharge people’s auras?!

Jaune: Yep. It uses some of my aura to recharge others, but I can also use it on myself to recharge my own aura. Not to mention when I use it on other’s their semblance gains a boost, and becomes far more powerful. For a short while that is.

Winter: That is quite the impressive semblance…

Jaune: Yep, with my semblance I become an aura tank!

Jeanne: And, with my semblance I become the tanks cannon!

Jeanne: And we become the, Arc Tank!

Winter: …?

Jeanne: Jaune, you’re supposed to join me in this.

Jaune: Come up with a better name, and I might.

Acheius: Haha! Well, Winter, what do you think of your siblings?

Winter: Well, I don’t know what, Jaune is like, but, Jeanne is amazing. She will become a fine Huntress in the future.

Jeanne: Naww… Thanks, Onee-Sama~!

Winter: W-What did you just call me…

Jaune: Onee-Sama? It means big sister. Since, we call everyone else sister, we thought we call you something different, yet the same. Since you are our older sister. Is that okay…

JJ: Onee-Sama~?

Winter: Grk?! It’s fine… Ahem! It’s fine. Perfectly fine.

JJ: Yay!

Acheius: Well, then. Lets go inside. We need to start dinner soon, and I am famished!

Jeanne: See, Willow, they’re getting along just fine.

Willow: Agreed. Uhh… No offence, Juniper. But, those two seem a bit… odd…

Juniper: No offence taken whatsoever! They are weird. Now come along kids! Lets go, and make some hamburgers!

Willow: W-What?

Jaune: Winter?

Winter: Yes?

Jaune: I know we may seem a bit weird. But, you need to remember this; You are a part of our family now. And, we will love, and protect both of you, even at the cost of our lives.

Winter: That’s… Thank you, Jaune, Jeanne.

Jaune: Our pleasure.

Jeanne: Now let’s go eat!

Winter: Yes lets. But, Jaune, can you help me with something first?

Jaune: With what?

Winter: Your… Our sister, Luna said I made it on the list. What list is she referring to?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Imma gonna get my spoon.

Jeanne: Jaune? Jaune don’t!

Jaune: I said if she made her way on to that list I was gonna shank one of you with a rusty spoon! Well guess what; its shanking time!

Jeanne: No wait! Jaune stop! WAAAAITTT!!!

Winter: …

Winter: This really is a weird family…

[treblrebl]

Cam - The Unsung

Booth should add Cam's name to his list of saints. That woman has one HELL of a thankless job as the administrator of the Medico-Legal lab. The irony of her position is that the better she does her job, the less it looks like her position is needed. And being the calm, steady one in a team full of highly individualistic, radical personalities means that her own specialized intelligence often gets ignored. When you have 'works-on-a different-plane-of-thought' Brennan, affable-yet-utterly-mad scientist Hodgins, and queen-of-lateral-thinking Angela on your team, your astute leadership skills and pathological expertise are not given their due importance.

Which is a bloody travesty. The Medico-Legal lab's job is not only to determine the truth, but also to make certain that the analysis can be utilized and presented successfully in court. Before Cam, the team was essentially a group of genius scientists working on individual remains on an as-is basis. Booth was correct in Season 2 when he told Brennan that Cam's objective is to ensure a successful prosecution. And in order to safeguard the findings of the team from being thrown out on a legal technicality, she is bound by the rules of the Justice Dept, the FBI and the Jeffersonian board. It sucks that time and again her team chastise her for doing so.

I mean the poor woman was treated like a traitor by her team for not lying to the authorities when Brennan was framed by Pelant. I mean, sure Angela, Cam should just lie about the evidence implicating Brennan. It's not like evidence in murder cases has a long chain of custody, and any fudging would be soon discovered. It's not as though Cam wouldn't immediately nuke her career and possibly her freedom by actively sabotaging a Federal murder inquiry.

And look - I love Hodgins but I'm surprised how fans of the show either ignore or simply brush over the times he blatantly uses his financial privilege without considering the ramifications to other people. I mean seriously, do we really think he would be so free to full off half his shenanigans if he wasn't the last scion of the Cantilever group, and thus enjoyed donor privilege? He regularly swipes items from other departments and exhibits, often without approval. He brews alcohol in Jeffersonian owned instruments and sets off minor explosions. His intentions are never ever malicious, and he is genuinely an adult version of the boy who loved to take everything apart to see how things worked. But let's face it - ANY other person would have faced severe consequences for these actions. Remember the Founder's Day party? It would have been Cam's job to take the heat for the decimated Mexican succulents and unauthorized drinking in the workplace. I wonder just how much she's shielded her team from - and whether she's ever been acknowledged.

Gods even in the episode where Wendell comes back after his chemo and lets Cam know that he takes medical marijuana to deal with the pain - did she have ANY recourse but to let him go? She stuck her neck out for Finn but Caroline bulldozed her, and with justifiable reason. She was stuck between the same rock and hard place with Wendell. And wow, the way Angela and Hodgins immediately painted her as a moustache twirling villain laughing at Wendell's pain infuriated me. They should realize how hypocritical their stance is - after all when Brennan left for Maluku and Booth for Afghanistan they had a proper cause and mission. Hodgins and Angela left simply because they could, and because they didn't want to put in the effort of breaking in a new team, however temporarily. Cam was left in the dust.

So here's to Camille Saroyan - woman of infinite patience, empathy and the ability to handle rambunctious adults. May she one day get the recognition she deserves.

[angelasscribbles]

Cordonian Royal Family (A Bad Romance Extra)

I wanted to share these images because they're fabulous. I didn't make most of them, I suck at these things, but I love them and felt like they should be seen by others. Of course, me being me, I wanted to give information about each character but if I'm doing that, then it needs to read like an article in the Cordonian Star so here we are. Enjoy! The article is under the cut.

These images were all generated by the AI art app Wonder. For anyone interested, you may see my AI art disclaimer here.

It’s been one year since the death of His Royal Majesty Constantine Arthur Augustus Hector Rys in an unfortunate ceiling collapse at the palace just days before the current king announced his engagement to the queen.

King Constantine was married three times, sired two sons, and fostered three other children. Here is a look at the royal family today.

Photos by Ana De Luca.

His Royal Majesty Liam Nicolai Ulysses Augustus Rys

King of Cordonian, Duke of Stormholt, Duke of Bellmede, Duke of Valtoria, Earl of Alriel, Earl of Ennan, Earl of Lykos, Baron of Throngate, Lord of the Isles and Commander in Chief of the Cordonian Royal Forces.

From Spare to Heir. Never meant for the throne, this second-born son of royalty was thrust into the role of leader when his older brother abdicated. Many believe he was always more temperamentally suited for the role. Indeed, after a rocky start, Cordonia has thrived under his leadership.

Tied romantically to only a small number of women in his youth, (and one alleged man), King Liam’s younger years were as devoid of scandal and impropriety as his brother’s were full of them. He received good marks at the prestigious, elite Wellingford Academy and later Epton College.

He managed to stay out of the spotlight for the most part until his eventful social season. Marrying a commoner and a foreigner, changing the laws of succession for his children, and legalizing gay marriage, he has a track record as a progressive and is viewed favorably by the majority of Cordonians.

Her Royal Majesty Riley Catherine Brooks Rys

Queen of Cordonian, Duchess of Stormholt, Duchess of Bellmede, Duchess of Valtoria, Countess of Alriel, Countess of Ennan, Countess of Lykos, Baroness of Throngate, Lady of the Isles and Champion of the Realm.

Rumored to have had a contentious relationship with the late king, this last-minute addition to the present king’s social season was a long shot. As an American and a commoner, she reportedly was not King Constantine’s first, or even second, choice for his son.

Always King Liam’s favorite, however, she was a front-runner from the moment she set foot on Cordonian soil, her beauty, charm, and grace captivating the nation. Meeting at a bar in New York where she was his waitress, their whirlwind romance seemingly ended in scandal, accusations of infidelity, and the king’s engagement to another woman.

Their love endured despite the obstacles and in an astonishing turn of events, not only was her name cleared, but the king made a move as historically unprecedented as it was shocking, breaking a council-approved political engagement and marrying for love.

Prince Leonardo Tiberius Constantine Fabian Rys

Prince of Cordonia, Duke of Abanthus, Earl of Ebrimel, Baron of Auverneen.

Born into privilege and wealth, he threw it all away in what many consider a selfish and short-sighted move led by the vagaries and hubris of youth. Other interpretations range from the young prince simply recognizing that his brother was better suited to rule; to unsubstantiated rumors that he was pressured into stepping down by his father.

Prince Leo bounced around between elite boarding schools, both domestic and abroad before making barely passable marks at Epton College. Dubbed by the media as the Playboy Prince of the Mediterranean, he has been romantically linked to the likes of Olivia Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos, Princess Margot of Auvernall, and American actress Victoria Fontaine.

Abdicating both as Crown Prince of Cordonian and Duke of Stormholt, he retains the title of Prince as well as holding the titles Duke of Abanthus, Earl of Ebrimel, and Baron of Auverneen while living abroad. The Playboy Prince is still unattached.

Captain Drake Nolan Walker

Lord Commander of the Queen’s Guard, Knight Protector of the Realm.

Born to commoners, he and his sister were taken in and raised by the royal family after his father’s death in service to the crown. Having lived in the palace since the age of six, he became a ward of the crown at age fourteen and received the same basic upbringing and education as the princes.

Unlike the princes, he dedicated his life to military service, later following in his father’s footsteps by transferring to the Royal Guard. During King Liam’s social season, Captain Walker was charged with killing a man. All charges were eventually dropped, and he was exonerated when it came out that he was acting undercover on the king’s orders as a de facto member of Queen Riley’s security detail.

He currently serves the crown as captain of the Queen’s Guard, lives at the palace, remains close friends with the king, and is by all accounts deeply devoted to the queen.

Her Grace Savannah Evangeline Walker Beaumont

Duchess of Ramsford.

Like her brother, the duchess became a ward of the crown after the death of her father when she was twelve years old. She retained the title of Lady until the advent of her marriage to the Duke of Ramsford, Bertrand Beaumont, raised her status to duchess.

Scandal rocked Duchy Ramsford when it was revealed that the duchess had a child out of wedlock. She left Cordonia, taking the heir to Ramsford with her. She lived abroad for a year before returning and reuniting with the duke. They were married in an elaborate ceremony a few months after her return.

Unidentified sources close to the couple report the marriage is strained and often rocky.

His Grace Bertrand Atticus Beaumont

Duke of Ramsford, Leader of the House of Lords, Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal.

Taking on the role of Duke at a young age, he, along with the rest of the world, was shocked by the return of his presumed dead father, the late Duke Barthelemy Beaumont. His Grace relinquished control of the duchy to his father only to pick up the mantle again a few months later when the late Duke of Ramsford was killed in a head-on collision on his way home from a meeting at the palace.

He currently serves in the House of Lords as The Lord Leader, a position he has held for the last five years.

His ties to the monarchy are many and varied. His marriage to Savannah Walker made him a de facto member of the royal family, as did making the queen an official member of House Beaumont as part of his sponsorship of her during the king’s social season. His younger brother, Lord Maxwell Beaumont serves as the queen's top advisor and personal assistant. Prince Leo is a close friend, was the best man at his wedding, and is godfather to his son.

Lord Barthelemy Jackson Beaumont

Future Duke of Ramsford.

As the only child of the Duke and Duchess of Ramsford, young Lord Barthelemy is the heir to the duchy, nephew to the Lord Commander of the Queen’s Guard Captain Drake Walker, and to the queen’s personal assistant, Lord Maxwell Beaumont, has Prince Leo as a godfather and is treated as a grandchild by the queen mother.  

Her Grace Olivia Vanderwall Nevrakis

Duchess of Lythikos, Counsellor of State.

Also a ward of the crown, Duchess Olivia Nevrakis lost her parents in a tragic car accident when she was five years old. The late Queen Eleanor sent for her, and she was raised and educated at the palace, taking over control of Duchy Lythikos from her aunt at the age of sixteen.

Lythikos has thrived under her leadership, and she is beloved by the people. A suitor in King Liam’s social season, she has also been romantically linked to his brother, Prince Leo. Sources close to the duchess report that her participation in the social season was out of courtesy and duty as she and the king have always enjoyed a close friendship, but nothing more.

She currently resides at Lykos Keep, sits on the king’s small council, and divides her time between Lythikos and the capital.

Her Royal Majesty Regina Beatrice Amaranth Rys

Queen Mother, Dowager Duchess of Stormholt, Countess of Loutreo.

Born in Krona, her father was the younger brother of the late Duke, Karolos Amaranth. The current Duchess of Krona, Adelaide Amaranth, is her cousin. A countess in her own right, she became queen when she married King Constantine after a lengthy courtship.

She was the late king’s third wife. Marrying later in life, she had no biological children of her own but was instrumental in the upbringing of both her stepsons and the other three children entrusted to the monarchs’ care.

Now a widow, the queen mother continues to live at the palace, advises the queen, and works with the various charities she has championed over the years, notably Hope Haven a nationwide organization that works with homeless youth, and The Empowerment Zone a nonprofit helping single mothers. 

Her Royal Highness Eleanor Elizabeth Hana Olivia Rys

Crown Princess of Cordonia.

Born just six days ago, Cordonia’s newest princess has already captivated the hearts of the nation. The king and queen have retreated to the queen’s estate in Valtoria while they adjust to new parenthood, taking with them, among others, the queen's personal assistant, Lord Maxwell Beaumont. No nannies are yet in residence, but Duchess Hana Lee, the queen’s best friend and official Master of the Household, is.

This exclusive photo, which originally appeared in The Cordonian Star yesterday, is the only public photograph of the crown princess, who was named after her grandmother, the late Queen Eleanor.