#yes five minutes total i like my shit red

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

i'll be real whenever i gotta cook a steak, whether for myself or for others, that godforsaken letterkenny bit blares in my ears loud as shit

[webslingingslasher]

banner made by: @thursdaygxrls

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

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

word count: 11k.

it's getting real now...

CHAPTER TWO: MASTERMIND

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Give me five minutes.’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So this was all for nothing?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Then introduce yourself.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘friend?’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, that’s my bio girl.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s difficult and entitled.” 

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

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

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

Heavy steps found themselves at a familiar face.

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

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

“It’s so soft.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter, hi!” 

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

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

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

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

“I know how to hug.” 

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

“No.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ethan shrugs, “sounds like Harvey, yeah.” 

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

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

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

“Which album?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s that?” 

You point at yourself, “me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 9TH. CATHEDRAL HALL. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12TH, ESU DINING HALL.

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

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

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

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

“You act like one.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The good one? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just hope you’re not the fool.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13TH, QUEENS, NEW YORK.

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

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

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

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

CATHEDRAL HALL. 

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

Ally starts, “I call Conner Frise.”

 Prince next, “Sam Mason.”  

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

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

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right,” one step closer. 

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

“And then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Parker, you out here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just so you could keep it to yourself. 

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

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

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

“Cheers, Parker.” 

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

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH, SIGMA NU CHAPTER HOUSE

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

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

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

“I bid Isaac Barns.” 

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

CATHEDRAL HALL

its.parker requested to follow you.

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

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

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

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

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

spider.luvr66 requested to follow you. 

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

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

Accept. spider.luvr66 is now following you. 

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

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

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

‘big brother season.’ 

You had your bid and he posted the proof.

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

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

[zeestarfishalien]

My Graveyard Song Ch. 14

(Totally got distracted and forgot to post this to tumblr. It's been up on ao3 for a few days now)

[Masterpost]

Jason looked at the two empty bowls and one empty plate of food Danny had polished off and promptly decides to take him to Rosa Lee’s Diner. They always serve extra large portions of food that stands up to even Alfred’s high standards.

As he urges Spooky into one of the jackets left by his siblings, he shoots a text off to Cass.

[BCC plz 4 Spooky u wel 2 IOU 1 🏠🍝 ur chc]

By the time Cass gets there, Danny is starting on his third plate. Mind you, she got here in under half an hour and Danny is not in fact a speedster, but at the rate Danny is going, Bruce is certainly going to think someone fed a speedster.

Jason is really not sure where all this food is going. By all rights, his spooky friend should be on the verge of exploding from eating more than his body weight in food.

Even the waitstaff are watching this little meta-looking kid down pounds and pounds of food.

Cass passes Jason an unmarked black credit card and sits next to him in order to better watch Danny scarf down his waffles.

Five minutes later when their waiter swings by, Jason orders a platter of beignets and Danny orders Rosa Lee’s own personal special, a breakfast that comes with four slices of ham, a mountain of cheesy scrambled eggs, two pancakes, four breakfast sausage links, two biscuits, and an apple turnover.

At this point, the waiter doesn’t even blink, just asks if he’d like anything to add or substitute.

He asks for 3 extra pancakes.

By the time he's halfway through his stack of pancakes -the last thing left of his Rosa Lee Special- it dawns on Jason, that maybe Danny shouldn't be eating this much when he hasn't eaten regular human food in a long time.

But then again, what does he know? The world is a great big mysterious place and you cannot treat every humanoid looking being by the limitations of humans.

Danny is watching him now, an openly curious look on his face. There's a question in the air between them, even Cass picks up on it.

Carefully slow, Danny sets down his fork and finishes chewing the bite in his mouth.

"You're worried," he croaks, tapping his index finger on the table to emphasize his words.

He pauses, distracted, and looks down at his hand, repeating the motion of tapping his finger on the table while studying it closely. Jason almost breaks into laughter when Danny’s head tilts in an oddly animal like fashion.

If he needed any other proof that Spooky the dog is Danny the spirit sitting before him, this would do it.

His glowing eyes flick back up to Jason.

"Amused," he rasps out barely above a whisper. There's still that unspoken question in the air.

It finally clicks. The emotions Danny is naming are Jason’s. The question he wants to know is 'why'.

"I wasn't sure if you could get sick from overeating. Humans need to ease back into eating normal amounts but you're not human so I don't know what standard to hold you to."

Danny nods absently, his finger tap tap tapping away on the table.

"Hard to say," he says finally. His voice still sounds like gravel, not unlike Cass' own voice.

"Ecto fills in gaps. A temporary fix. Rebuilding with the right stuff now." He gestures vaguely to the empty plates stacked on their table. "Ecto is fast. I'm probably fine."

"Sorry," Jason half mumbles. "I just worry."

All movement from Danny freezes, like someone pressed pause on the TV. His eyes go wide in realization and alarm.

"Jazz..."

Jason blinks and then it hits him with the speed and force of a freight train.

"Oh shit! Jazz!" He scrambles for his phone. "Do you remember anything else about her that might help?!"

~•~

Bill would like everyone to know that he works very hard to be a good hench person.

He's not dumb. Now he may not be book smart like half the big baddies in Gotham, but he's not dumb.

He would have died long ago if that were the case. He's worked for the Red Hood for a couple years now —it's one of the best decisions he's ever made; the guy knows how to treat his hench people. What more can Bill say?— and he's avoided asking questions just like with all his hench jobs before this.

But he'd really like to ask one now that he's stuck watching years worth of security footage...

What even constitutes suspicious activity in a cemetery?

Now most people would automatically say, graverobbing, but Big Red is a Gotham native. In Gotham, no one is buried with their valuables, not unless your grave is in a super secret spot. Gothamites can smell money and anytime there's a possibility of it, people will dig up the grave in question.

Hell, the cops don't even stop for it anymore, they just keep on rollin' even if it's happening right before their eyes.

Point is, graverobbing can't be the suspicious behavior he's supposed to look for, but Bill really isn't sure what exactly does quantify as suspicious behavior to Big Red.

Everything here has been run of the mill, graverobbing, teen/young adult vandalism, or drug deals.

Yes, he considers goth teens/young adults having sex in a cemetery as vandalism too. Vandalism on his eyes, if nothing else.

He hits pause on a big white van and rubs his eyes tiredly. Perhaps it's time to call it a night. He's losing focus, getting caught up in his own thoughts.

His hand hovers over the mouse about to drag it over to close out of the program when his brain catches up to what his eyes are seeing.

The van, big, white, armored...

Now that IS unusual. Black or gray vans are the favored colors in Gotham and anyone, who knows anything about Gotham, knows that you NEVER armor up a suspicious color and type of vehicle. Not if you don't want the cops and vigilantes breaking down your door.

He can just make out two people in bright colors inside the van. They're grainy but not grainy enough for Bill to doubt the color of their outfits.

It's too bright for any regular gothamite. The only people in this city who dress like that are the big shot villains and their cronies.

The two disappear into the cemetery, out of sight of the camera with tools in hand. He scans forward a few hours (less time than he expected honestly) and slows back to normal speed just in time to watch them unload what seems to be some sort of coffin, except it's metal with glowing lines and patterns on it.

He pauses the video again and with elbows resting upon the desk he presses clasped hands against his mouth to muffle his sigh.

Well, if that doesn't constitute suspicious activity then Bill will hand in a letter of resignation and go flip burgers.

Well...time to let the boss know.

Yall thought I made up the part where Bill the Henchman comes in, but I definitely, absolutely had this planned from the beginning. [Lying]

Okay, gonna be honest, I may have had a plan for Bill, but it either was lost in the shuffle or there never actually was a plan for scenes with Bill. Considering I can only sometimes keep my dream memories from mixing with my awake memories, any hope of recovering any potential memories is nigh on impossible.

HOWEVER

I can always make new plans. AND I HAVE! So yes, we have Bill now and I'm going to pretend like this was planned all along.

Oh yeah! So Jason’s text at the beginning says: Black credit card please, for Spooky. You are welcome too. I owe you one homemade meal, your choice.

Also can you imagine being a vigilante? Bc you have at least 10 very important things you have to juggle on just an average Tuesday. This is not including sudden family disasters like a family member getting trapped in a burning building and having to go save them, plus more wild revelations about your funky supernatural roomie. So like, cut a guy some slack, I know I'd be floundering some days. Attempting to prioritize must really be a bitch some days. Just...oof...

[vctrvn-ls]

Heeyy idk if u write ff right now but if u do can u please do a niko o/s where him nd the reader are together nd they are filming woth the beta squad nd he keeps violating her as joke etc.(im literally head over heels for that man)

same bb Niko has my heart <3

Walmart Duster |Niko|

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Yes? Hello." You held your phone up to your head with your shoulder as you rummaged through your bag "Yes I got my costume. Yes give me five minutes I'm almost there. Bye." You put your phone down and continued searching for your lipgloss that had fallen to the bottom of your bag.

Suddenly your phone began buzzing again.

"Shit," you picked it up "Oh excuse me sir take a right there, it's quicker." You pointed to the driver. "Hello?" You answered "Yes I'm coming. Chunkz just called...I'm the Grinch, why?"

"We're almost here, miss."

"Yes perfect- No one told me who to dress up as...You know what we'll talk inside. I'm here." You turned off your phone and tossed it into your bag.

"Thank you, please pick me up at 8pm." You got out of the car and took your hanger with your costume out of the trunk.

As you turned to the familiar Beta Squad house you instantly recognized Chunkz and AJ at the front door waving.

You chuckle to yourself and made your way over to the two of them.

"Finally, she makes it." Chunkz sarcastically claps his hands glancing at AJ who's just genuinely happy you're here.

"Lemme help with that." AJ took the costume cover and went inside while you hugged Chunkz hello.

"Good ride?"

"Yeah, nothing special." You shrugged as he held the door open for you to enter.

You were met with a series of cheers from the Beta couch.

"Hey guys!" You laugh in excitement and wave to everyone, a little overwhelmed by all the emotions. Kenny and Sharky get up to come greet you, which rose the question: Where was Niko?

"Hey!" Everyone in the hallway heard an annoyed yell from somewhere inside the house.

Well, speak of the devil.

You heard a series of footsteps and as they turned the corner, a tall green thing stood before you.

Honestly you only recognized that it was Niko because of his height. Instantly you burst out laughing, not being able to contain yourself, stomach already in pain.

Everyone else joined you.

"What was that?" Niko pointed behind him from the direction he came from.

Everyone exchanged confused, but on the verge of laughing, glances. In the moment AJ walked in from Niko's side, and you understood what he was implying at.

"What is your costume?" He pointed at you with his abnormally long and funny finger.

You tried to contain yourself from just laughing in response to his question, given his green state, but you managed to squeeze out "The Grinch?"

"Nooo!" He dramatically threw his arms up and turned on the spot like the drama queen he was. "I'm The Grinch."

"Same."

"No. There can only be one grinch. You aren't even the grinch, i-it was just a green fuzzy dress or whatever."

You couldn't tell if he was joking or being for real, because that's how it was with Niko most of the time, so you just went along "Even with just a fuzzy dress I'll be The Grinch. You're just a Grinch." Now that wasn't true at all, Niko was definitely THE Grinch with his totally over the top green face and big bushy eyebrows, but you said it so confidently that it almost sounded convincing.

Before Niko could reply or come up with a witty comeback like 'your mama so fat' Chunkz interrupted "Right everyone," he clapped his hands "Twenty minutes to get ready and then we'll film the intro."

Niko scoffed and stomped away, extra dramatically, while everyone else went to change into their costumes.

You slipped into your fuzzy green dress, pulled on some red elbow gloves and a Santa hat.

It wasn't really Christmas yet, not even close, it was in two weeks, but you knew the boys always filmed guest videos in advance just because it was more practical.

The forfeit for this video was a plate of the most disgusting food combinations ever, each numbered from 1-10. You had to pull out a number and whatever it matched up with went in your mouth.

After everyone separately filmed their part for the intro, you all gathered in the Mafia room and that's exactly when you got to see Niko in his full costume.

You honestly didn't know wether to laugh or be impressed.

"You look like a duster." He mumbled meanly as he felt you eyeing him up and down.

"I think we should sit the two Grinches next to each other." Sharky stated.

"Nothing would more disgraceful than sitting next to a green duster from Walmart." The cameras were already rolling so it was hard to tell what was being said for real and what was being said for content, you just genuinely laughed at his joke and purposefully sat down next to him.

He side-eyed you as you beamed at him, annoying him even more.

"Niko really thought he was being original by dressing up as the Grinch." Chunkz said to the camera as he pointed at Niko with his thumb.

"Yes!" Niko squeaked in a high pitched voice "Everyone drop what you're doing and comment right now that she looks like a Walmart duster!"

You dropped your mouth open in offense as you tried to suppress a laugh.

"Yeah, to be fair you kinda do." Chunkz says adding his little giggle at the end making everything ten times as funny and sending laughs through the room.

"The disrespect," you tried to speak through your own chuckles.

"Anyway!" He cut off the laughter just as easily as he had started it "Let's pick the caaaards."

Everyone took a card and secretively looked.

MAFIA

You suppressed a small grin and put your card under the couch.

This was gonna be good.

"Everyone!" Chunkz shouted "Close. Your. Eyes."

The tension rose in the room.

"Mafia!" He announces dramatically "Open. Your. Eyes."

You slowly opened your eyes, and without moving your head looked around. Not Sharky, not AJ beside him. Chunkz or Kenny? You glance to your left, no. Both of their eyes were closed...Which left...Niko.

You slowly looked up seeing his eyes open and stuck onto you. You bit your lip trying not to break into laughter from how hilarious he looked with all the makeup and extra long brows, you sent him a little wave, careful not to make too much noise, he moved his mouth but you didn't get any of the words he was trying to pronounce. You rose a brow and shook your head, telling him that you didn't understand.

He turned to the camera and rolled his eyes, as if saying "she's so dumb" to which you responded with a middle finger to his face.

"Mafia! Close. Your. Eyes...Everyone wake up!"

Everyone's eyes shot open and the accusations began to flood in.

"Why are you smiling Kenny?"

"Why are you laughing?"

"Yep it's Chunkz I heard his snowman suit rustling."

"I think it's Niko." AJ says slyly.

You nod "Definitely. I heard his eyes open."

Everyone laughs at your comment.

"I think we need to eliminate her." Niko places a finger on your shoulder "She has committed a crime. The crime of dressing up as a green duster from Walmart."

Of course everyone starts laughing, including you, but for real this was starting to piss you off. After all you wanted to win this, preferably also getting your revenge at Niko.

First round AJ was voted out. Why? No one knows, maybe it was because he didn't take anything seriously and as per usual he barely had any of his gross food for forfeit.

"That's gonna be you next." You heard Niko's low voice in your ear as he pointed with his hairy Grinch finger to coughing and struggling AJ. You furrowed your eyebrows and turned around almost head butting him, catching him off guard at how close your face was to his.

"You're going down, Omilana." You said narrowing your eyes, sending vibes of those bullies in cartoon shows.

As the second round started, suspicions were being aimed at Niko because he was being very talkative, but you decided not to go at him straight away.

"Guys, guys. You can't vote me out and leave her here. It would disgrace the Grinch race!" He said into the camera raising his hairy eyebrows. And there he was defending himself with the duster jokes again.

"You even thinking you could pull that off is a disgrace."

"Sorry I don't speak duster." Niko turned to you.

"Why'd you need to fake big hairy eyebrows when you could've just painted over your own big hairy eyebrows?"

"Wooaahhh!" The room filled with laughs, impressed calls and wheezes as everyone watched you and Niko scrap about nothing.

"Aye you guys might as well lips now." Chunkz slipped in those words that changed which whole atmosphere. You and Niko stared at him in shock while everyone else burst into laughter. A small smile edged on your lips as you slowly looked over at Niko. His expression was priceless. Mouth open, eyebrows up and eyes as big as saucers. You giggled nudging him in the ribs.

"Don't talk to me, duster." Niko crossed his arms over his fake big belly and tried to move away from you.

"Even though you're taller than me, I feel like I'm looking down at you."

"VIO! VIO!" Sharky pointed at Niko, who's mouth was open again.

"Woooow," Chunkz's eyes were huge as he looked at you "Did you get that?" He turned to the camera and held his finger up "Gyal said even though I'm shorter than you, I feel like im looking down at you."

No one expected that, and you were genuinely proud of yourself. You shot Niko sneaky look and nudged him in the ribs again.

"Ow!" He yelled bending down this time reacting.

So far the game was looking good for you. Sharky had his suspicions on Chunkz and Niko.  Kenny had his suspicions on Niko and you, but that didn't matter because Chunkz had his suspicions on Niko and Sharky.

Honestly you could've probably won next round if you had sided with Niko somehow, maybe if you thought a little about how to point fingers at Kenny because of how bad he was at Mafia. But no. Your plan was to win and alongside that see Niko coughing up some cow tongue or pickled eggs.

"Everyone tell me what is your card right now." You proclaimed enthusiastically, previously mentioning that you had a special trick.

"8 of hearts." Sharky replied without even thinking.

"6 of clubs?" Kenny asked more than said.

"9 of diamonds." Chunkz answered and looked at Niko who was supposed to respond next.

"7 of spades." Niko made up his card "Wait are we even allowed to do that?"

And this is where your plan stepped in.

"7 of spades?" You ask him, doing your best to act surprised, Sharky and Chunkz observed your reaction, taking it in as a genuine one.

"Yes." Niko laughed in slight confusion, sure that you'd back him as his partner in crime.

"Why what's yours?" Sharky quizzed leaning in.

"I have seven of spades." Your tone was low, like in those movies when the detective finally figures out who the murderer was.

Being totally clueless everyone breaks into gasps, naively believing you.

"Wait wait wait," Niko continued laughing nervously "She could be lying." But coming from his mouth it sounded not so convincing.

"I know it's you." You pointed at his chest, riling him up for real as he let out an offended scoff "This just proves it."

"I mean she could be lying. They were messing since the beginning of the game." Sharky pointed out.

"Was it messing or flirting?" Chunkz joked and you raised your eyebrows. You were about to end those jokes.

"If I was Mafia I would've sided with him."

"Would you now?" Niko said chuckling dryly at the irony, but no one payed attention to him.

"Mafias aren't allowed to go against each other right?"

"Wooaahh, did everyone get that?" Chunkz pointed at you. You cringed inside realizing that the phrasing was poor and now the situation looked bad for you.

"What? I'm just asking." You said innocently.

"You realize that if it's not Niko we're all gonna think it's you?" Sharky said.

"It's not me though. Listen guys I just wanna win this."

"Yeah win as the Mafia by getting an innocent civilian out!" Niko threw his arms up.

"I'm willing to bet that it's definitely Niko." Kenny said which was the starting point of voting.

"Same."

"No no no guys," Niko leaned onto the back of the couch in defeat. He saw your eyes sparkle with passion for the game and obvious revenge.

After the voting Niko was obviously out and the five of you headed to the table of gross food.

While you walked there you had managed to poke Niko three times without anyone noticing which absolutely sent him. He was so pissed he thought he was going to burst.

You secretly winked at the camera before turning to the table where Niko sat, nervously eyeing the laid out disgusting food, if you could even call it that.

"You guys are making a big mistake, it's her! It's the duster!" But it was too late for jokes now, he was already sat at the table, ready to pick out a number.

"Shush you." You held out the hat with the numbered pieces of paper. "The best Grinch wins." You grin from ear to ear as he picks up a folded piece of paper, glaring up at you.

"5." Niko reads and everyone starts searching for dish number 5 on the table.

"That's brains." AJ says.

"You shush you're already out you pussy." Niko points at AJ who was peaking from the other side of the table.

"Shit it is brains." You look at the plate that looked vile. A grey splat of goo with little wavy lines on it. As Niko takes the plate and puts it in front of him everyone "ew's".

"Maybe it's not so bad." He takes the knife and fork.

"No that is bad." Kenny laughs from behind him. Niko cautiously begins cutting a piece of the brain and as he slices, a splash of liquid shoots outs to the side, making you gag and cough.

"That is disgu-" you gag again covering your mouth.

"Now now don't do that!" Niko yells out without taking his eyes off the brain. "If someone throws up I'm throwing up right after them."

"Yeah, if you guys didn't know that's actually for real. Like Niko can eat the most disgusting foods but if someone gags he's done." Chunkz says to the camera and then proceeds to titter making everyone else laugh.

"Alright it's time for you to eat that Mister Nikolas Omilana." Chunkz announced.

"Wait let me ju-"

"Nah nah stop the waffling." AJ laughs.

"Shut up you rat. You're out."

"Eat it Niko!" You shouted standing a meter away from the table so you didn't have to see the brains that clearly.

Hesitantly, Niko lifted up the fork that had a grey slimy piece on it. Everyone paused as he took a bite. He chewed three times before almost spitting it out.

The room filled with laughs and "ooh's" as Niko really struggled to chew. Despite being seconds away from throwing up yourself you wanted Niko to really suffer.

"Accept your defeat by a duster." You whispered theatrically while squeezing his shoulders. He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, hastily getting up and running over to the kitchen sink spitting everything out and coughing.

"Please, water." Niko winced at the disgusting aftertaste, but neither you nor the boys went over to help. Everyone was too busy laughing and talking while George filmed Niko suffering in the kitchen.

"That's what you get for calling me a duster." You turned to the other camera and smiled.

"Reveal your caaaard!" Chunkz shouted, and Niko pulled out his king of spades while still coughing over the sink.

Everyone cheered and you and Sharky held hands while jumping in a circle and chanting "Niko's a schmuck! Niko's a schmuck!"

Fast forward to the intense moment of you, Chunkz and Sharky deciding who the last mafia was. Getting Kenny out was easy because he was making zero sense in his arguments.

Just like earlier in the game, Sharky still had his suspicions on Chunkz and before Chunkz could say anything you brought up the fact that when everyone voted for AJ he voted for you, giving you some sort of reason to vote for him.

By now obviously Chunkz had a hunch that it was you, but Sharky wouldn't believe him anyway since he was fully convinced that Chunkz was the imposter. And after the final voting it was Chunkz's turn.

"Pickled eggs isn't even that bad!" Niko exclaimed.

"Shut it." Chunkz spat "Idiot." He took the fork and poked the jiggly egg.

"Hurry up." Sharky said impatiently, bouncing on the spot. But it was over for him. You had won already, just how you wanted.

"Eeewww," Chunkz managed to say as he swallowed a piece of the egg. "See that's how real men do it you pussio." Chunkz looked at Niko, stating the fact that he had managed to eat without spitting all over the sink.

"I had BRAINS!" Niko squeaked in defense.

"What's your card!?" Sharky shouted over the top of them.

Chunkz rummaged through his suit and pulled out the card from god knows where and slammed it onto the table right in front of Sharky.

"You idiot!" Chunkz sneered as Sharky let out a wail.

"Nooo!" He whined "Wait what? It was you?!"

"WE WOOONNN!" You shouted jumping up and down around Niko who was clearly pissed.

"I do not associate myself with her." Niko said into the lens as you continued celebrating.

"Gyal got brains." Chunkz laughed into Nikos face "She got you and we all believed her. You disgrace." Chunkz flicked his wrist.

"Cmon smile, we won!" You grinned sitting down next to Niko on a chair in a red lit room. You were filming the comments now and you had to talk about the victory.

"I don't even want to talk to her." Niko says into the camera pointing at you.

"There are two Mafias. We were supposed to work together." Niko articulated.

"Well maybe you should've stopped violating me every two seconds." You pointed out.

"Someone please evacuate her out of this building." Niko put his hairy gloved hand over your face.

"Niko!" You moved his hand away and spat out little pieces of green hair. The two of you shared a laugh before continuing to film.

After the civilians filmed their part under green lighting, the shooting for the day was finally over.

"Hey how about we order some pizza?" AJ suggested "Will you be staying longer?" He asked you. You glanced at the time, it was 6:27pm.

"Yeah, I've got time till 8:00." You said taking off your Santa hat and running your hand through your hair.

"Sweet."

"Yeah Sharky's gonna order because he's the dumbest idiot I've ever met." Chunkz says.

"Wha-I was sure it wasn't her!"

"Yeah yeah whatever."

"Alright who wants what?"

After figuring out the order everyone went to change back into their normal clothes.

You pulled Niko aside and made him take photos with you, Grinch with Grinch, that type of thing. He looked hilarious. You tried to pose in a cute way in the mirror, more or less, but Niko just stood there like a statue and pierced you with his gaze through the mirror.

"Relax," you laughed snapping a photo as you stood on your tiptoes to not seem so short.

"Get down," he pushed your shoulder "Stay short."

You rolled your eyes and after a few more photos, this time on his phone, you both went to change...well Niko had to scrub his face off to get that green paint of his face.

The rest of the evening was calm, you all chatted and ate, while a boring movie played in the background. You talked about mafia, work and future projects that might be coming up.

Today was pleasant, filming with the boys was always fun, you just wished you could do it more.

"Thank you for having me guys." You were enveloped by a big group hug.

"Thank you for coming." Chunkz said.

"Yeah today was fun." Sharky agreed.

"I'll see you guys, hopefully soon." You let go of them and picked up your bag.

"Niko will help you with this, right?" Kenny grinned at his friend as he held up the hanger with the costume cover, which had the "duster dress" inside it. Niko rolled his eyes and took the costume "Yeah." He said not so enthusiastically and followed you.

"Bye guys!" You waved the final time as you and Niko walked over to your driver's car.

As the two of you walked you shared some enjoyable silence with mutual smiles on your faces. He helped you put the costume in the backseat and as you were about to get into the car he finally decided to speak up "Hey I was wondering." He began with a slight smile on his face "Could I like, maybe, get your number?"

You were surprised, but overjoyed at the fact that he asked, not being able to hold in the beaming grin that shone on your face.

"I need to track you down and burn that dress."

You chuckled and nodded answering with a simple “yeah” to not seem too excited.

You decided to ignore the fact that he could've just texted you on Instagram and asked there, but maybe this was his way of showing his interest in you.

"On one condition though," you paused before typing your number into his contacts.

He raised his eyebrows and waited for you to continue.

"You don't name me Duster in your chats."

He nodded "Oh yeah yeah, of course not."

"Uhuh?"

He shook his head "Nah it's a dead joke."

You weren't convinced at all, but still put your number in his phone and handed it to him.

He smiled in response.

"You have a very weird way of getting girls. Violate them and then ask for their number."

He shrugged "Part of the rizz you know?"

You laugh at his comment and pull him into a hug "Bye Omilana."

"Peace to all." He tapped your shoulder.

You roll your eyes and get into the car and, as your driver greeted you and double checked that you were going home, Niko kept waving.

You waved in response before you turned the corner, and almost instantly your phone buzzed. You opened your messages only to be met with this:

[cassiefromhell]

Bats and Fire 03

"Hell"

read part one here or part two here

a/n: its back, bitches! also my requests are open now that im back at it, read my pinned for deets :)

warnings: blood, vomiting

wc: 3.6k

Ah, yes, the biannual cycle. It leaves females across the globe in agony… and you are no exception. However, it’s only five months into knowing your mates, and none of them have seen you during your period before. But that just changed!

Being the least busy out of your five mates, Lucien was the first to notice, when you didn’t come to the Autumn palace to say goodbye before your mission…

You’re curled in a ball, having not left your little townhouse by the shore, though you were supposed to leave four hours ago. The plan was to stop by Autumn, pick up travel food and a new weapon, say goodbye to Lucien and Eris, then head out to find a selkie and research it. The trip was to take two days, then you’d return to the Night Court and spend a few days there.

But you hadn’t left. You had seen the few dots of red in your underwear last night, but had felt nothing and convinced yourself it wouldn’t be too bad this time. This morning, the blood had soaked through the fabric stuffed into your underwear, through the sheets, and had left a pink stain on the mattress Rhys had just bought you.

You had managed to get up and clean yourself up, puking not once, but twice from the earth-shattering cramps ravaging your core, and gotten yourself settled in a comfortable chair with a bucket — just in case — and three blankets and a cup of pain relief tea.

So you are in pain, bleeding, hormonal, craving a shit ton of chocolate chip muffins, and a little bit high from the tea.

One of Azriel’s shadows lurks by the foot of the sofa. It looks like it’s begging to run back to its master and report your condition, but you give it a look. 

“If you so much as try to leave, I will step on you and I will ban Az from sending any of your little friends my way ever again,” you warn, eyes narrowing into a sharp glare.

The shadow curls up and admits defeat.

At least, it looks like that’s what’s happening.

But then a voice calls down the bond — Lucien. Lovely? Are you alright? Did you forget to come by? I’m sitting here with that new dagger you commissioned.

You consider your options. Tell him, and have him come here, to which he’ll either: freak out and call the others, panic and dote on you like an overbearing mother, or somehow, maybe be totally calm and cool and collected and helpful.

For Lucien… the man who you saw gag when you cleaned out a papercut… you doubt the last one would be plausible.

I’m fine, you lie, suppressing the feelings of suffering that try to creep down the bond as a cramp rocks your abdomen. I’m sore from training with Cassian yesterday. 

A two-minute pause, and then Cassian speaks down the bond. I didn’t train with you yesterday. Why did I just get a note from Lucien asking why I overdid it with you?

Tell him you trained with me. 

Too late, Cassian replies, with a mental shrug.

You sigh, groaning as Lucien re-enters the bond. 

Okay… so you lied. No big deal. But where are you, and are you okay?

Perfectly fine. I’m in my little townhouse in Dawn. Just needed a day of rest.

The Dawn townhouse is only used for a few situations. It’s a neutral zone between the two courts of Autumn and Night, so it’s perfect for when you’re either mad at a minimum of one mate in either court, or when you need a place to silently recover after being injured. They’ve caught you there before, stitching your own massive gashes and wounds with no help… so, naturally, mention of the Dawn townhouse is bound to raise suspicion. You curse yourself for mentioning it, because Lucien shortly responds.

On my way.

No need!

But then Lucien’s scent floods your nose, and footsteps come from down the hall. 

You take three more sips of your drugged brew, then call out softly. “Lucien, do not open that door.”

He whimpers softly, and there’s a little thud. “What did I do wrong? Are you mad at me? I haven’t heard anything from the cave bats, so why are you here?” 

“First of all, do not call them cave bats. Secondly, I am not mad at you. Nor am I injured. Just resting.”

“So why can‘t I come in?”

“Because you might not like what you see.”

Lucien pauses, and then the doorknob moves slightly. “You’re concerning me, I’m coming in.”

“Knock yourself out,” you grumble, tucking your blanket under your chin.

The door opens slowly, and Lucien peers in, immediately spotting you on the couch, all tucked in. “Oh, dear. Are you sick, kitten?”

But then he takes two more steps in, and inhales. He halts in his tracks, the tops of his pointed ears going bright red.

“Told you.”

“Oh— oh, uhm… uhm… okay… I see now,” he stops a few yards away, resting his hand on his hips and biting his lip. “I… uhm, well, it’s all natural, so—”

“I’m very aware of that, Lucie,” you reply, wincing as another cramp rips through you. You grip your abdomen, forcing down two more sips of tea.

He immediately is at your side (though he did fail to hide his gag at the scent of the blood) and cups your face in his hands. “What can I do? How can I, uhm, help? What do I do?” It’s hard to miss the obvious anxious tone he speaks with, eyes flicking around.

“Lucien, I’m okay on my own—” You’re interrupted by pain shooting up your spine, and have to stop your sentence or risk screaming.

“No, no, you’re not okay,” he stands, pacing the room, once, twice, and then looks back to you. “You need to be taken care of. I’m going to get Eris.”

You whine, sipping your tea and running a hand over your hair. “If you call Eris, then before you know it everyone will be here. I do not want to be coddled, do you understand me?”

“But I want to coddle—”

“Lucien.”

You don’t think you’ve called Lucien by his given name this many times in one day before. But your hormones are raging and you just can’t scrounge up the pet names you’d usually call him.

He frowns, but then shakes his head. “I’ll get Eris, and that’ll be it, okay? We’ll take care of you. If the cave bats—”

“LUCIEN.”

“—…If the Night Court brothers find out, it won’t be due to a lack of us trying.”

And you have no time to argue your case, because he’s already vanished.

Not even twenty minutes later, you pick up Lucien’s scent again, but this time it’s accompanied by Eris’s. They don’t enter your room immediately, because there’s an urgent conversation to be had…

“Lucien,” you pick up Eris’s voice, and there are no footsteps. “I’m sure you already know how a female’s period works?”

“What?” Lucien retorts, and there’s a scoff. “Of course I do.”

“So why did you wrinkle your damn nose when you entered this house?”

“Because the blood has a smell—”

“Lucien. It’s natural. It is going to happen to her every six months. You’re going to need to get used to this.”

You sigh, sinking deeper into your seat and sipping your now-cold tea. This is what you were afraid of. You know how squeamish Lucien can be.

“I know—”

“Don’t you sass me.”

“I am not sassing you, what are you on about?”

Taking the last sip of your tea, you place the mug on the ground. But without the drink by your face, a new scent fills your nose, and you gag.

“Quit fighting,” you call out. “The testosterone is going to make me puke.”

The two males fall silent for a moment, then Eris calls up. “We’ll be up in a moment, sweetheart.”

Then his voice drops into a murmur, and you really can’t make out what he’s saying. Nor do you care. You’ve really gotta drink this tea more often, because it does an excellent job at muting your care factor.

The door opens, and in comes the Autumn court brothers. Eris looks like he was called straight from a meeting, his hair combed back and all dressed up in a nice uniform. He’s in front of you in an instant, crouching in front of the sofa and taking one of your hands, kissing your knuckles.

“How are you feeling, little flame?” He coos, running his fingers along your jaw.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” you reply, drily.

Eris narrows his eyes, and pulls on the skin of your temple slightly. “Are you… are you high?”

“It’s the tea. It’s drugged.”

His eyes widen, and he picks up the empty mug, giving it a sniff. He coughs immediately, plugging his nose. “How did you even get this?”

You shrug, offering a lazy smile. “Mor. It’s common practice in Vallahan, she says.”

Lucien comes over, taking the mug from Eris. He also gives it a sniff, winces, and then heads off towards the kitchen to dispose of it.

Eris sighs, getting up off the floor. “Scooch. Let me see if I can act as a source of heat. It’s good for—”

“Eris, I know what heat is good for.”

He slides onto the couch beside you, pulling you to his chest and placing his warm hands on your abdomen, his warmth seeping into your skin.

It immediately starts to relieve the cramping pain of your period, your body singing with delight at the sensation. With a soft sigh, your eyes start to droop, after having woken up criminally early.

“Rest for me, little flame,” Eris murmurs against your hair, tucking your head against his neck.  

Just as you start to drift off, the edges of the world blurring, Lucien re-enters the room, and his scent mixed with lavender and honey fills the room. 

“I brought more tea,” he says, stepping closer.

But your stomach suddenly churns at the mix of scents, and just then, a breeze comes through the partly opened window, and there’s another smell of just male and—

And it’s over for you.

Eris holds the bucket in front of you just in time, and you upheave the contents of your stomach.

“Take the tea away,” Eris scolds, all while holding back your hair and rubbing your back. “S’alright, love. I’m here, you’re okay.”

As soon as you’re sure you’re finished, you lean back against Eris once more, returning to basking in his endless warmth.

The High Lord makes his younger brother take the vomit bucket away, and you’re finally, finally, able to start drifting off again…

Cassian slips in through the window, his wing getting caught on the frame once, twice, and then he unlatches. 

He sniffs the air, and frowns, getting hit with the scent of blood and faintly, vomit. He’s smelled it on Mor far too many times, and scowls when he realizes that you’re not alone.

You and Eris haven’t moved an inch, and you’re nestled in his arms, both fast asleep, cuddled up on the sofa. Lucien lounges on the floor beside you two, awake but looking like he hasn’t slept in years. He glances at the clock as Cassian enters, frowning.

“The fuck are you doing here at six in the morning?” Lucien hisses, baring his teeth at the Illyrian.

“I’m no idiot. I know that I didn’t train with her the other day, and you asked me why she was so sore,” Cassian scowls, walking in and heading straight for you.

“If you wake her, so help me—”

But it’s too late. Your eyes slide open, and you look around, eyes landing on Cassian. “Mm… what are you doing here?”

Cassian pushes Lucien to the side, and kneels in front of you. “Well, I knew something was wrong, and Rhys and Az didn’t know, and these two bozos weren’t responding to my notes, so—”

“Would you let her sleep?” Eris grumbles, now having been awoken from his own slumber.

Cassian frowns. “She woke up on her own.”

“That’s not true,” Lucien chimes in.

“She doesn’t want you here.”

“What? Of course she wants me here,” Cassian snarls, turning to look at you again. “I’ll take care of you better than they can. I’ll get my brothers, and—”

“No,” you and Lucien say at the same time, and then you continue alone. “I don’t want a crowd. I feel sick enough as it is. It’ll get worse with you five bickering and emitting scents and shit.”

Cassian pouts, his wings dropping a little. “I can’t keep this from them. They need to know you’re unwell.”

“Could take you to Autumn,” Eris murmurs to you, brushing hair out of your face. “Then they’ll have to request a visit. And I’ll deny them.”

“Don’t you go spewing that bullshit—”

“Keep your voice down—”

“Well she’s already fucking awake—”

“Because of you!”

You sigh, closing your eyes and trying to tune out the bickering of the three. You quickly fail, and wince as another cramp makes your abdomen tense up. 

“Muffins,” you say, and the fighting instantly stops.

“What was that, kitten?” Lucien asks, reaching up to run a warm hand over your knee, under the blanket.

“I want muffins. Chocolate chip. Cassian, you’re on muffin duty.”

Cassian brightens a little, like a bored puppy being given a task, and is out the window in seconds.

“Lucien, you get me more drugged tea.”

Lucien frowns, opening his mouth to protest, but you’re not having it.

“It’s good for the pain. Go.”

Pouting, he vanishes into a cloud of winnow smoke.

Eris looks at you expectantly, but you shake your head. “You stay. You’re on heating pad duty, and I need a hot bath.”

He grins, kissing your cheek gently and standing up, taking you and your blanket with him. “That, that I can do.”

Cassian can’t keep a fucking secret. Not when he is consistently in close proximity of a spymaster and a daemati…

You were laying with Lucien, reading while he acted as a source of heat, when it came. Eris was attending to his High Lord duties, and Cassian was out searching for a specific kind of bread you were craving.

But a second shadow came, creeping over to you and prodding at your ankle, then your calf, wrapping around you. It was checking you.

“Fuck,” you swore, narrowing your eyes. 

“Hmm?” Lucien hummed, then spotted the thing. “Is that…”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” you sighed, reaching down and letting the shadow dance up your arm. “Did your master send you here? Does he know?”

The shadow tightened around your bicep, stroked your neck, and then slunk back into a dark corner.

“How long do we have?” Lucien asked, running a hand over your hair.

“Not long,” you grumbled.

And so here you are, sitting alone after having sent Lucien out on a book run, waiting for your other two mates to arrive. 

Because you know they’re coming.

And they do. The scents of jasmine and cedar hit your nose at the same time, followed by the creaking of your squeaky front door opening.

A muffled voice drifts up from downstairs. “One day, you need to oil that door. I’ll distract her while you do it.” Rhysand’s cool tone sounds, followed by a deep chuckle.

“But she says it ‘adds to the old times atmosphere’,” Azriel responds, just as their footsteps on the stairs start to reach you.

You straighten up, neatly put a lovely research book in your lap, and act like your organs aren’t being ripped to shreds by a million invisible claws.

A knock comes on your door, and you sigh softly.

“I knew I wouldn’t get away with it for long,” you say softly, admitting your defeat. But hey, two days was impressive.

Your door cracks open, and a violet eye peers in, followed by your two mates entering.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rhysand pouts immediately, coming to your bedside and taking your hand to kiss it.

“I didn’t want the chaos of five mates here,” you grumble, pouting right back.

Azriel wordlessly slips into your bed beside you, lifting the covers off of you. Within moments, you are practically encased in shadows.

“Are you seriously—”

“They’re just checking that you’re okay.”

“It’s a period for the Mother’s sake—”

“Which leaves you here bleeding and in pain,” Rhysand coos, reaching over to stroke your hair, your head being the only part of you not encased in shadows.

“I am perfectly fine.”

“Of course you’re not,” Azriel scowls, his shadows retreating — except for a few that prefer to stay curled in your lap like a cat. “You’re in pain. I can feel it in the bond, now that you’re nearby.”

Rhysand’s pout deepens into a frown, and he gives you a short peck on the lips. “I’ve called for Madja, she’ll be here tomorrow morning. She should have something for this.”

You shrug, but go with it. Meanwhile, Azriel gets to work on rubbing your feet, and Rhysand sits behind you, letting his starlight escape a little and wrap around your abdomen. It’s not hot like Eris or Lucien are, but it’s not cold either. It does help a bit, however.

You accept your fate of being doted on, leaning back and settling down with a soft sigh.

All of your mates insist on being there when Madja comes.

It starts with the night court trio wanting to be there, because they know her, but then Lucien and Eris have the urge to be there because they don’t know her. Great times…

You may be a little nervous for your visit with a new healer, who you’re not even sure why you’re seeing, but at least you’re being treated like a queen.

Eris has resumed his heating pad duties, so he sits behind you with a pile of paper at his side, using magic to make a pen write his thoughts to get his High Lord paperwork done.

Lucien sits to the left of you, sipping a mug of coffee and reading something, a hand resting on your thigh. He’s been put on food duty today, making sure your cravings are being fulfilled. And also keeping a bucket nearby. On your other side is Cassian, who has his head resting on your knees, half asleep from a reportedly ‘very intense’ training session at the crack of dawn that morning.

Rhysand sits down by your feet, massaging swelling away from your ankles. Azriel sits at the other end of the bed to Rhysand’s left, reading a book. His shadows are all over you this morning. One is currently acting as a hair tie to keep your locks high up in a bun.

Rhys straightens up a little, and his eyes go vacant. Then he smiles softly. “Madja is here.”

Moments later, the older female is by your side, a wrinkled hand resting on your abdomen. Although your mates were forced to all abdicate the bed, they’re all watching from varying distances… Eris being the closest, Cassian the farthest. And the sleepiest.

“Hmm, I can certainly sense your pain. Does your body always react this way?”

You wince as she puts pressure on your stomach. “Yes. This time around it’s a little more painful, though. More nausea.”

“It’s likely because of the bonds.”

Eris’s brows shoot up. “The bonds? Why would we have anything to do with this?”

Madja sighs, and reaches into her briefcase, pulling out a small velvet pouch. “Her body is overwhelmed with the new strings, and it’s affecting her cycle. Simple as that.”

She reaches into the pouch, and her fingers come back shimmering with something golden, and she reaches for your arm. 

You pull back instinctively. “What is that? Is that—”

“Give me your arm,” Madja frowns, gesturing for you to hold it out.

You edge away more. “What the fuck is the shimmery shit?”

Madja grabs your arm, but Eris is there faster, gripping the older woman’s wrist within seconds. “What is the powder,” His voice comes out as more of a command than anything else.

“Oh, would you calm down,” Rhys hisses.

Madja sighs, holding up the gold powder. “It’s just Nevermore, it’ll help with the pain—“

But you can practically feel the snap go off in your head, because Nevermore is a fucking drug and you do not want to be fucking drugged and who is this lady and why the fuck are you so ANGRY—

“Out.”

That one word, combined with the sharp tone of your voice and the anger seeping into your bonds, has Eris and Lucien getting Madja out.

“Dear,” Azriel starts, coming to your side quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nevermore is strong enough to fucking stupefy me, that’s what’s wrong!” You shout, unable to contain the sharp growing anger. “You can’t just drug a female!” 

And now you’re crying. And the anger dissipates and you’re left sobbing in the middle of your bed, because you’re a bitch who kicked an old lady out.

Before you can even register it, all five mates are around you, stroking your hair and wiping away your tears and snuggling you.

You end up completely entangled in all of them by the time you calm down, tired and puffy-eyed.

And as you sit there, you soak in all the different scents, and the warmth, and you’re able to forget a little bit of the pain, a little bit of the misery.

Because you are loved.

And love overpowers all.

But also you’re still in hell. 

And you still hurt like hell.

So it’s like, a 50/50 fix for ya.

look i can remember tags! @awoa1 @llovelydove @bookishbroadwaybish @maddietheshoe @eerievixen @ghostofnightcrawlerpast @cleverzonkwombatsludge @hyemishii @caro-lightwood-blog @the-sweet-psycho @myheartfollower

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[jerzwriter]

Tricks and Treats

Thank you to @aces-and-angels for this ask for Halloween prompt #28. It's the perfect prompt for them. I hope I did it justice. :)

Book: Crimes of Passion Pairing: Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose) Words: 1,400 Rating: Teen Warnings: Some violence, though nothing too intense; cursing Summary: Trystan & Carolina are running late to Ruby & Luke's Halloween Party. They have one stop to make on the way, but things go awry. A/N: It helps if you know the story of Little Red Riding Hood, but you don't have to. Participating in @choicesoctober Halloween, @choicesholidays Halloween

CoP Masterlist Main Masterlist

“One, two, three, four,” Carolina’s red cape fluttered behind her each time she raised her arm to grab another bottle of wine from the shelf. She had her hand on the fifth when she paused. “Five? Is five necessary? Maybe four will do... I can’t be the only one bringing wine... and I’m not just saying this because my shopping basket is so freaking heavy...”  

She could feel the weight of someone’s stare as she continued the animated conversation with herself. Turning her head quickly , she found a mildly amused shopper looking her way.

“My friends like wine,” Carolina shrugged. “A lot, actually... but... this is getting heavy, and I need to make a decision. I don’t normally talk to myself like this!” As the shopper shuffled away, Carolina yelled after her. “I don’t! I really don’t... I’m a very sane person! Totally sane... except... for right now.”

She let out a snort imagining how ridiculous she must have looked... Little Red Riding Hood standing in the middle of an aisle at Westside Market, rambling aimlessly about how much alcohol she needed to buy while declaring herself sane. New Yorkers were used to unusual sights, but she didn’t blame the woman for rushing away. 

She looked at her watch with a frown. They were already twenty minutes late for Ruby and Luke's party and still had midtown traffic to grapple with, so she set off to find Trystan, still talking to herself as she turned her neck to look down each aisle.

“Trystan, where are you?” Though she was actively looking for him, her heart still skipped a beat when a big, furry paw landed on her shoulder.  

“Trystan!” she startled, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“There is no Trystan,” he snickered, playfully pulling her close. “Only the Big Bad Wolf..uh.. no.. I mean Grandma! I’m Grandma, trust me.”

“Grandma? What big paws you have!” she beamed as he nuzzled into her neck and playfully growled.

“The better to paw you with, my dear...”

“Well, you can paw me once we get to the party. We’re very late.”

She went to reach for his hand, bursting into laughter when she saw the contents in his basket. “What are you buying?”

“Sausage and whipped cream,” he answered matter-of-factly.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Caroline winced. “Sausage... and whipped cream?”

“Yes. Ruby asked me to pick up chorizo, and there is no way I’m partaking in Luke’s pumpkin pie without the benefit of whipped cream. What do you take me for? A heathen?"

“But, Trystan... we’re walking up to the cashier to purchase a lot of wine, an obscenely large chorizo... and whipped cream.... how does that look?”

“Like we’re on our way to one hell of a party,” he winked. 

“Why don’t we stop on aisle five and throw in some Vaseline. That should give the staff something to talk about for hours, maybe days, to come!”

“Aisle five, you say?” he said, grabbing her hand.

“Can we forget I mentioned that?”

But his impish grin gave her all the answers she needed.

“I should know better by now,” she sighed.

~~~~~

Carolina was lost in thought as they waited on the barely moving line. Trystan scrunched his nose to wordlessly to inquire about her thoughts.

“I should get more wine,” she insisted. “I mean... you know our friends. This won't be nearly enough.”  

“Well, I don’t think this line is going to move anytime soon. Would you like me to run and get more?”

“No, you wait here,” she insisted. “I’ll go.”

“Just be quick,” he smiled. “It's dangerous out in the woods.”

“I know!” She said with wide eyes. “We even have Drakovian wolves now!"

“Oh! The worst kind!” he scoffed, patting her bottom quickly as she rushed off, his eyes never leaving her until she was out of sight. He turned back to face the front of the line and met the disapproving gaze of an elderly woman in front of him.

“It's OK," Trystan insisted. "She’s my girlfriend, that was perfectly acceptable behavior.”

Not sure she was satisfied with his answer, he pulled out his phone to check messages. He was lost in thought when...

“Freeze!” A masked man wearing an undistinguishable costume yelled as he launched at the cashier, gun blazing.

The teenage girl at the register began to scream.

“Shut the hell up and keep your hands where I can see ‘em... then no one gets hurt!”

Suddenly, another man dressed as Chewbacca whipped around and pointed a gun at the customers waiting in line.

“Don’t any of you get any ideas either!”

Trystan held up his hands with a roll of his eyes. “This behavior is so unbecoming of a Wookie.”

But his bravado depleted at once when the man cocked his pistol and aimed it at Trystan.

“Think you’re funny there, Scar?"

"Scar? No...I'm the Big Bad Wolf."

"SHUT UP!!! One more out of you, and you’ll be laughing at the morgue.”

Back at the register, the young cashier nervously tossed cash into a shopping bag as the robber was losing patience.

“Make it quick, Blondie! We don’t have all day!”

The old woman in front of Trystan began to hyperventilate and appeared to lose her balance.

Trystan reached out to touch her arm. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered; but his sudden movement jarred the Wookie assailant, who fired a shot in the air.

“I SAID DON’T FUCKING MOVE! DON’T MAKE ME DO SOMETHING I DON’T WANT TO DO!”

But eyes lit up when he caught a flash of light from the old woman’s direction.

“Well,” he let out a slow whistle. “That’s one hell of a diamond ring you’ve got there... hand it over!”

“No..." she cried. "I’ll give you all my money, but not this! Please! My Harry gave this to me for our fortieth anniversary! I remember him every time I see it!"

“Lady, unless you want to join Harry tonight, HAND IT OVER.”

Trystan clenched his teeth as the old woman tearfully removed the ring from her finger; that’s when he locked eyes with Carolina. A knowing look passed between them, and she gently nodded, mouthing the words... one... two... three....

Carolina rushed to the register, raising a bottle of wine high above her head, breaking it over the gunman’s head. Meanwhile, Trystan charged Chewbacca. He wailed as Trystan twisted his arm in an inhuman position until his gun fell to the floor. The first man began coming to and attempted to reach for the fallen weapon...

“Oh, no, you fucking don’t!” Carolina yelled as another bottle of wine crashed into his temple.

Trystan sat atop the other man to hold him in place. But when the police arrived, they took aim at Trystan.

“NO!” Carolina yelled. “The Big Bad Wolf is the good guy! He's with me. Chewbacca is the one you want!”

“My mistake,” the officer nodded. “The call just said a hairy beast was one of the assailants."

"It's OK," Carolina smirked. "It’s not every day we see the Big Bad Wolf and Chewbacca wrestling on the floor!”

“Wrestling?” Trystan spat. “There was no wrestling! I had this second-rate mongrel fully under control!”

“Of course, you did, dear,” Carolina smiled as the other officer took the wine-battered criminal off her hands.

The officer couldn't help but laugh. “It’s not every day you see Red and the Big Bad Wolf taking out the bad guys, either.”

“Hey, it’s New York,” Carolina shrugged. “You never know what you’ll see... especially on Halloween.”

With that, she turned to the wine-battered criminal. “Speaking of which... what the hell is your costume? I can't even tell what you were supposed to be."

“Sinatra!” The man answered bitterly.

“Sin... SINATRA! Frank Sinatra!” Carolina spat. “If I had known that, I would have hit harder! How dare you disparage Frank like that!”

“Do you have a thing for Sinatra?” Trystan questioned. “Perhaps I should have chosen my costume more carefully.”

“Sinatra was one of my father’s favorites,” she smiled softly. “And this SOB has the audacity....”

“Detective Rose,” the officer interrupted. “We need to take your statement.”

“Oh, of course,” she said as Trystan's phone rang.

“It shouldn’t be long. Then you two kids can head back to grandma’s house.”

As the officer took out his notepad, he and Carolina heard bits and pieces of Trystan's conversation.

“I know you’re desperate for the chorizo... we stopped a robbery.... yes, a robbery.... we’re fine... we’ll be leaving shortly... I have whipped cream, too.”

Carolina shook her head. “Whenever I'm with you, it seems words I could never have imagined in the same sentence all just meld together."

"I'm confident I'm not the first person to say chorizo, whipped cream, and robbery in the same breath."

"I don't know," the police officer muttered. "I think you might be."

After wrapping things up, the store manager came over to thank the couple, insisting they take their order for free. As they made their way out into the cold, moonlit night, Trystan suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"We just can't have a normal night out, can we?”

“Hon, this is normal for us,” she smiled, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Now, keep moving. Luke is desperate for his chorizo.”

"Talk about words I'd never hear strung together," he laughed.

It was a Halloween they'd never forget. 🎃

@choicesficwriterscreations Tagging others separately.

[aliceismypixie]

The villain of my story ∥ Early motherfuckers

Summary - "The villain will always be the villain if the hero tells the story" or atleast that's what they say. No one knew why you became what you are. But you wanted your revenge on Isabella Marie Swan and you were ready to do anything to have it.

Pairing - Twilight x villain!reader

Pronoun - she/her (but can be read as a male reader or gn reader)

Warning - mention wanting to kill people, full Y/n's pov, Restaurant and Y/n being somewhat bestie, mention of being in cage (well Rasberry is being held hostage so)

Words count - 1.36k~

Set - After Breaking-Dawn Part 2

Chapter 4 - Masterlist

Hear me out. You didn't particularly like to have a ten-looking-year-old two year old talking your ears off every single moment when she was awake. And you didn't particularly liked her mother, nor her father either. They're relationship was hella toxic, how can they not leave each other that much ? But anyways, you may didn't like her family or her in general but she was a child. And trust me when I say you had a soft spot for children.

See growing up you didn't have the best childhood ever. Foster care, unloving parents, fake ass older sister that you're about to kill. Anyways overall, your childhood was shit. And you may be a very bitter and revengeful immortal child, but you could never stay mad at some children. You just couldn't.

Which was exactly why you found yourself laying on your couch with Ratatata Resnesmee, letting her tell you about her two first years of living while eating a peanut butter sandwich. Well she was eating, you were trying your best not to be disgusted by the smell of peanut butter.

"...And you know what ?" Renesmee exclaimed all excited and you gave her your best fake smile.

"No, tell me." You were trying to sound as excited as her. Key word trying.

"Uncle Jasper throwed Uncle Emmett in forest and he took down five trees due to how much force Uncle Jasper throwed him !" The young hybrid told you with a laugh and you tried to give her your best smile.

You loved children okay ? But you two have been talking for five hours straight and all you wanted to do was to go back to your stereotypical villain's plan wall and try to make your plan as flawless as possible. Obviously your plan was already flawless, but we all know that the hero somehow always succeeds in finding a tiny mistake and taking down the evil in five minutes. But that wasn't the only reason you wanted to go back to your super villain's plan wall.

The other reason was that you wanted to let out your super villain's evil laugh that only you can have and that echoed throught your lair while your shadow rose up and your figure slowly disappeared from the view. You know the moment a dramatic music plays in the background while the villain take a final look at their plan's and laugh super loudly for no reason ? Well you wanted that.

That was one of the perk of being the villain, you could do all the badass stuff and it was totally in character.

"You're thinking about your super villain's wall aren't you ?" The young weird hybrid child asked, catching your glance to the other room.

"Honestly ? Yes. Your talk is boring me like crazy." You replied and she shrugged.

"Can't blame you, your wall is cool." Renesmee acknowledged.

She wasn't very offended. At least not anymore. She's been living with your for the past eight days and except your bad temper, mood swings and constant annoyed face, your company was enjoyable. She even found you cool from time to time.

Like the time you showed her your super villain wall for the first time. She was totally amazed by it. The red string linking every single part of your plan, the whole organization of the pictures, the entire process of being a villain that you explained to her proudly by pointing at each part of your plan. She was astonished by your intelligence and it honestly almost made her want to be a villain.

You also explained to her that her villain backstory could start with her existance. She would be the villain of the entire vampire empire, taking over the Volturi who tried to kill her when she was only one and take her revenge on all those who wanted to kill her. Starting with her family who didn't want Isabella to give birth in the first place. And damn Redivide could see herself at the top of the vampire empire with you by her side as a thanks for making her the villain she was destined to be.

But that was a story for another time, in another universe, in another fanfiction.

"Honestly maybe we could add some more glitters―"

"No please no more glitters ! You already filled my villain pictures holder with glitter all over your favorite family members and I let you do it but please no more glitters, my poor immortal eyes can't take some much light. I'm a villain ! I live in the dark !" You complained and she grinned.

"Well maybe that's why your pale as fuck, you have no light in there." Renesmee replied and you gasped.

"Who taught you to swear ?!" You asked.

"Uncle Emmett." She said proudly and you took a sip of your vine glass filled with blood.

"Dang… he's the cool uncle isn't he ?" You questioned and she nodded, causing you to do the same.

"I can be your cool aunt. You know, showing you all the bad stuff and all." You trailed off and Renesmee widened her eyes.

"You could teach me how to hold a knife !"

"And how to use a sword !"

"And how to be all sassy and stuff like you do !"

"I could teach you how to find your super villain signature pose !"

"Oh yeah, we could be such posers together." Renesmee nodded at the thought and you agreed laying back on your with her and putting your feet on the table.

"You know what ? You're my favorite niece." You acknowledged and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm your only niece ?" Renesmee pointed out and you shrugged taking another sip of your drink.

"Still my favorite." You replied and she shrugged at your words.

There was a silence between you two and you could feel that Renesmee had a question but didn't ask, causing you to glare at her a little.

"What ?" You asked half annoyed, half curious.

"You still didn't tell me why you wanted to kill my mother and why you took me here." The hybrid child told and you rolled your eyes.

"You rode my evil speech, you already know why I want your mother to suffer." You replied and she frowned.

"Yeah, but you're not dead, so why want her dead ?" She asked you and you stared at her with an 'are-you-serious?' look.

"Not dead ? Kid, youre talking to a vampire who can manipulate fire. I'm doomed to be a sinner, a danger, a monster because your mother was too selfish to let me have a life. This is my after life, I was mean to be the evil of her story from the beginning now go back in your cage kid." You looked away and Renesmee frowned.

"But your after life could be your second chance to be better !" She protested and you glared.

"I was better before. But I was weaker, now look where it got me. Exactly, now go back to your cell kid. Your time out is over." You pushed her off the couch and Renesmee silently walked toward her cage with a sigh.

You may wonder why she just obeyed your order to literally go back to be a prisoner right ? Well first, you could kill her with a single snap of fingers and also because you were kind enough to give her three hours out of her cage everyday so yeah.

When she was about to close her door, Reconnaissance looked back at you and you tried to ignore the look of pity she was sending you. It wasn't until you locked the door that you finally heard the unfamiliar breathing around the forest. This was also the moment you smelled the eleven unfamiliar scent running around the wood and you clenched your jaw before putting on your coat quickly and Renesmee looked at you confused, her senses being less strong than yours.

"What ? What is it ?" She questioned and you glared at her before closing the door behind her.

"Hey !" Her voice echoed from inside of the lair while you groaned.

They weren't supposed to be there for another two days, you know you should have sent the letter tomorrow !

"Early motherfuckers."

[bernraccnt]

Hi!

I seen your request are open and was wondering if I could request how Mr. snake and Mr. Wolf would react to their s/o who is a cat start purring while they are cuddling and like other cat like things like their tail poofing up when they get spooked if that makes sense

I’ve kinda had this idea running around in my brain for a sec :))

If not that’s totally fine thank you! :D

yes i gotchu bestie, i love writing animal readers

mr snake and mr wolf with a cat s/o

before u read: furries, reader is a cuddly tired person, swearing

mr wolf

god, it's almost hilarious how night and day you are. since he's pretty much almost a dog, you guys are actual opposites. you're all soft and tired and he's a little shit

his heart melts when you're against him and you start purring. literally not doing anything but cuddling and you're like a finely tuned motor going off

your purring gets louder when he smooths down your hair and he constantly exploits this

his love language is all over the place, so he's always down to cuddle with you, enjoying how vulnerable you can be when you fall asleep on him

"jeez, it's only been five minutes." wolf laughs to himself, smiling at your face being smushed into his chest. you had suggested an afternoon nap and now, you were dead to the world. every snore was tailed with a purr, which made his smile grow wider. "d'aw." he coos, rubbing at the back of your head.

he's used a red dot laser sight on you and you hate him for it because its like all your other thoughts melt away and the only thing you care about it that little dot on the floor

if you start sulking and ignoring him, he'll apologize. not without laughter tho

he's an asshole

"i-- i didn't-- PFFT-- i--" your frown increased the longer your boyfriend attempted to apologize to you. attempted being the big word, as he was trying his hardest not to start laughing again. you clenched the red dot laser in your hand, frowning harder when his snout fell in between your shoulder blades. "no, fuck you." you said. "BAHAHAHAHA--"

he will carry you wherever you please. to the bedroom? already on it, c'mon sweetheart. to the other couch cushion since the one you're on is too cold? he is picking you up without hesitation.

his ideal morning is falling in and out of sleep with you on top of him. even with how crazy his life is, he enjoys having slower moments with someone like you.

you guys balance each other out in a good way, so overall, a successful relationship.

mr snake

this old man is your opposite but in a different way. you're very loving and calm and he's a cranky boy who just needs a hug every once in a while

he's too fidgety to cuddle for very long periods of time but every now and then, he wraps himself around your body and puts his head on top of yours

in this position, he practically feels your purrs all over his body and every time, he subconsciously smiles at it. he can't help himself, you're just too good for him not to smile

snake tightened himself when he shifted, smiling when your chest rumbled harder at the sudden movement. he knew you felt safest when you were being held closely and hey, he really liked holding you tight. blame it on the snake genes or something. "love ya, pumpkin." he whispered, smooching at the top of your head.

he's still an asshole and after he realized you're incredibly easy to scare, he is going to exploit this as much as he could

the funniest was when he was looking through the kitchen cabinets and climbed on top of the fridge to find something

he had dropped down when you turned the corner, but neither of you knew the other was there

snake falling flat on his face onto the floor in front of you made you let out a shriek of fear. your limbs moved on their own and you launched yourself over to the kitchen's island and to the other side of the room without hesitation. you and snake stared at one another wide-eyed, not sure what to make of what had just happened.

he still laughs about that to this day

he's a big smoocher, btw. anytime you cuddle, smooches will be included im just sayin

however he doesn't really enjoy extended periods of physical touch, so there's a nice and even balance of you guys cuddling and doing other things!

bonus! mr wolf and mr snake

they both love how soft you are, both physically and emotionally

you are the thing they look forward to coming home to you every night, knowing some good ass cuddles are waiting for them in your big ass bed

wolf is typically the one laying on the bed and you're on his chest, with snake wrapped around you both and keeping you all firmly together

good luck if you need to pee bc you have to peel off your boyfriends first

[nerdyvocals]

Final round of episode quotes as @look-at-those-niceass-rocks and I finished our final watch party. Once again, the cast and crew are in the house, so @saveourpinks, please enjoy. (You can find previous posts with more unhinged quotes here and here)

Honorable mention from before we actually started, them waking their husband up with: wake up, it's time for me to see gay shit

Second honorable mention, a conversation had while I struggled with my audio: Them: I tried to show [Husband] Merely Players last night but he was too tired Me: I can't believe your husband is homophobic Them: I AGREE Husband, distantly: I don't deserve this!

(about Buddy) God his shoulders, he's built like a Dorito

(this is specifically in reference to episode 8 but honestly, this was said multiple times throughout our watching) Me: WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS HAVE TO DO WITH COMMUNISM??? Them: It's the 50s! If it ain't American, it's communist!

Me: I love that Buddy's dad's name is Dick Them: It was a choice

(In reference to Blandiels) He makes me SO uncomfortable. Like I know that that's the point but he's so slimy-NO NO STOP, STOP KISSING HER, FUCK-!

(roughly three minutes of us screaming over Lydia's Woman Scorned (tm) dress, followed by another three minutes of us laughing at the faces everyone was making when I pause the video)

(about Susan's mom) Me: Heinous fucking bitch Them: What. A raging. CUNT.

(after we both spent a Hot Minute thirsting over Cynthia dancing on the car) Them: I talk a big game but if I was within five feet of this person, I would be just staring and stammering Husband, distantly: We know honey Them: SHUT UP

(both of us wheezing over CGI!Richie)

Cops: *show up* Us: *John Mulaney voice* SCATTER

Them: NOT THE LINE I'VE LOST THE ONE I LOVE THE MOST AS SHE PICKS UP OLIVIA'S JACKET Me: They are simply In Love

Them: He's gonna do something stupid, I can feel it. Me: You don't know the half of it! Them: He's gonna propose to a teenager! (okay maybe they do know the half of it, fuckin' prophet)

Me: *reading off episode titles as it starts storming where I am* And this one is called You're Dropping Out of Rydell- thank you dramatic thunder???

(honorable mention, me being unable to tell what was real thunder and what was from the episode)

Them: I'm not emotionally ready for this Me: Me neither and I've seen it like eight times already

Nancy: *dramatic exit* Them: She's so dramatic and I respect her and only her

Me: I love you singing along to a theme song with no lyrics Them: Sometimes I just gotta make funky little noises!

(About Nicholson) I am going to break that man's ball sack with a driver.

Them: It's giving pouty little bitch Me: Which one? (referring to Buddy and his dad) Them: Yes

Cynthia: *walks in in Richie's Jacket* Me: Hello my name is Single and Gay Them: I am not single but I am gay and I think... I don't think, I have no thoughts, head empty

(About McGee, then the scene transitions to Daniels) Them: The only adult in this school I respect- I AM GOING TO KILL HIM WITH MY BARE HANDS! Me, wheezing: What about your human hands? Them: THOSE TOO

(said in the most disgusted voice I've ever heard) Of course he likes Walt Whitman

Them: [Husband], I'm killing the pedophile, wanna help? Husband: Let's be honest, do you really need my help? Them: Someone's gotta drive the car.

Them: "Feelings central?" I bet you were feeling sensual when you were making out with Olivia-LYDIA on your couch earlier Me: ...You good there? Them: The names are too close

(Face to Face begins) Ah, dramatic acapella is my gender

Me: Once again, love how much you hate Buddy Them: He's had so many chances to earn my respect and he has done nothing!

Guardian Demon: *appears* Them: What. The fuck. Is happening? Me: BEAUTY SCHOOL DROPOUT BABEY

(@ Buddy) Them: He's not a total ding-dong. Just like 80% Me: He did just thank her (Susan) for having sex with him Them: ...85%

(About the Red Sox analogy) Cynthia giving me Gender Euphoria with one sentence

Nancy: *talking about love stories, mentions Shy Guy* Both of us: *Cackling at the full-body never mind Cynthia does*

Nancy: Tell anyone of my vulnerable nature and I will deny it until the day I die! Them: FUCKING MOOD like I know I was literally also just crying but we're gonna move past that, I'm a bad bitch again

Me: Finale time! Any thought or predictions before we get started? Them: Leonard gets arrested and as he's being taken away, he gets hit by a semi truck- Me: What is this, Mean Girls??? Them: Yes! McGee punches the principal in the face and defeats him in blood combat and cements her place as principal- Me: *slowly dissolving into horrified laughter* Them: Cynthia gets to kiss Lydia again, which is all I really need to be happy, and terrifying CGI Richie comes back and does the Macarena! Me: *can't start the episode for five minutes because I'm laughing too hard*

(Ten seconds in) PAUSE THIS I HAVE BEEF THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY OF GETTING MARRIED THAT QUICKLY IN A CATHOLIC CHURCH

(after rant) Me: Yeah but the tensions wouldn't be as high if they had six months to stop the wedding! Them: ...there are two wolves inside of me, one says valid, and one is formerly Catholic and Upsetti

Me: I want a shirt that says "I have two wolves inside of me, one of them is Catholic" and nothing else Them: *WHEEZE*

Cynthia: He's just. Some guy. Both of us, in sync: HIT HIM WITH YOUR CAR

"Old Soul" is groomer for "Fuckable"

(@ Gil climbing in through the window) Me: On the one hand, I'd fold, on the other? Terrifying! Them: YES! Me: Although I guess if I had the rapport with someone that they have?? Maybe?? Like good in media, bad in real life. Them: Gil? Yes, absolutely. Edward Cullen? Fuck no! The two genres of climbing through my window

(after the drag race) YET ANOTHER THING BUDDY DID NOT EARN

Me: Hey, do you have tissues? Them (afraid): ...should I get some??? Me: Maybe Them: I don't think I have any in the house??? Me: Ah! You're fucked!

*ten minute interlude of us crying over the Coming Out Scene, discussing what it means to both of us, and how furious we are of future generations not getting to see the best queer rep of our lifetimes if this show doesn't get saved. On that note, sign the petition if you haven't already.*

THEY STARTED BY STEALING A CAR THEY WILL SAVE THE FRIENDSHIP BY STEALING A CAR

Oh someone please hit hi- YESSSSS!!!

(at the start of All In) Me: She (Cynthia) is going to cry Them: I'm going to cry Me: I'm already crying

Me: Lydia is stronger than I am I would already be on my knees. (note I use a cane and sometimes a wheelchair, if I am on my knees I Will Not be Getting Up)

Me: Hopelessly Devoted walked so this song could fucking run Them: I WAS ABOUT TO SAY THE SAME THING

Pink Ladies: *Offer Hazel a jacket* Them: *aggressively close to the mic* That sounds very gay I'm in

Them: I cannot take my eyes off Jane. Like they are all very beautiful right now but there's something about her- Me: It's the bisexual energy Them: ...Dammit, you're right

Rizzo: We'll start our own gang! Them: With blackjack and hookers!

(Introduction of Frankie Zuko) Them: I'm sorry, HUH???

(As credits roll) Me: So, how we feelin'? Them: Normal, I am so normal, I am feeling so fucking normal about this. Me: Thoughts? Them: *incoherent screaming*

We had some much fun doing these, we decided to keep a quotes list for more movie nights. Next up, Julie and the Phantoms!

[phobiaoftickles]

Cuddly tickles

Summary: MK was cuddling in Redson’s arms, half asleep with his boyfriend lazily scratching his back, until he accidentally scratched his ribs, and little does the monkie kid know, danger was quick to ensue.

Warnings: Tickles and gay boyfriends, Yes I ship spicynoodles, it’s cute.

Takes place in a hotel room, bc Pigsy, Tang, Redson, MK, Sandy, and Mei, went to travel. So yeah, this information will be needed later😭. And I’ll through in SWK and Macaque cause why not???🫣 Yes this is SWK and Macaque father figure in here, don’t like it don’t read it. Kinda doesn’t fit the characters, but I honestly don’t care.

——————————————————

“Ahhh, just keep doing that…hahah,” Mk giggled, melting in to the touch.

“Just go to sleep, MK, my hands getting tired…” Redson whined.

“Ok ok, just… *sigh* five more minutes…” Redson can hear MK snoring softly, so he moved his hand off his back to go to sleep too, but his hand moved on his side, and MK giggled and squirmed in return.

It clicked in the fire boy’s brain, his beloved boyfriend was ticklish. How could he not tickle him? He did yesterday, why not now, after MK totally tickled the shit out of Redson like 4 hours ago. This’ll be his revenge, so he decided to lightly scratch his sides, in return, MK giggled, but not exactly tried to get away from the perdicament he’s currently in. “Babe…. Hahahah, it ticklesss.”

“It does? How can me scratching your back, be ticklish?”

“Yohohou’re not scratching myhyhy back, you’re thihihickling my sides!!!” The monkie kid giggled out some more, and if his head wasn’t turned away from his boyfriend, he could tell that MK’s face was getting red tenfold, and Redson loved every part of it. His face, his ticklishness, his laughs and giggles and coughs and hiccups, and don’t forget he loves, absolutely loves, the kisses the brunette gives the red head. He absentmindedly stopped tickling him because he was mesmerized by the latter’s giggles.

Until he was pulled out of his trance by the one he was staring at, “Why’d you stop?”

“Wh-what, oh my bad, I’m sorry hun, I’ll keep tickling the devil out of you.” He leaned down and kissed his forehead while he still tickled his sides.

“Ehehehheehw, don’t shahahahahy that,” MK pulled away from the kiss and bent his head in his lover’s side giggling away.

If cuteness could kill, Redson, well… he’ll be dead before he got MK’s number. Love at first sight, am I right? “Awww, can’t you be anymore cuter???”

“Dohohohon’t tease me!” MK laughed a lil harder as Redson started squeezing his hips, unconsciously digging his head deeper in his side, making the vibrations tickle.

“Hey! Don’t laugh in my side, you idiot. It tickles!” Redson pushed his head away, still tickling.

“Oh! Wahahahahahit! You’re ticklish too, how can I forget about that?!” MK pushed Redson’s hand away, and tickled his sides.

“NO!! MK!! Stahahhahap!! I’ll buhuhuhurn you, if yohohohou don’t!!! Plehehehehase!!!” Redson tried to pull away, but his attempts were broken, as MK is much stronger than him at tickling.

“Nu uh, I don’t think it’s fair if you get to tickle me, and I can’t tickle you back!!”

“Ihihihit’s so fair!!! Behehehehcause you like ihihit and I dohohohon’t!!! Fuuhuhuhucking hell!! Sthahahahahap!!!” As MK didn’t stop the second time he was asked, Redson lifted up his free hand and tickled his outstretched side, making MK tumble on him, switching sides, allowing Redson to pin him under the taller one.

“You’ve been real bad, lately, maybe I should punish you harder.” Redson smirked down at MK with his arms pinned above his head.

“Yeah? And what exactly do you have in, mi-“ He gasped when he felt dull fingers flutter on his ribcage. “No. No! REDSON!! Babe, please, we can talk about this! Hahahaha, not there, please. I’m sorry, I won’t ever tickle you again. You can tickle me ANYWHERE but my ribs, you KNOW it’s a death spot of mine.” MK looked down, trying not to meet his boyfriend’s devilous face.

“Have trust in me, babe, I won’t hurt you… just trynna seek my revenge.” And as that, feels like the brunette’s life has flashed before his eyes, he descended on MK’s quivering body, squeezing the life out of it.

“HAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! REDSON!! BAHAHAHAHBE!!!! STAHAHHAAHP!!! IT HUHUHUHURTS! IT HURTS!! PLEASE!!!”

“Oh please, how can this-“ They both were interrupted by Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, Mei, SWK, and Macaque, slamming the door open, after Pigsy gently put the key card in, only to be staring at Redson on top of Mk, with his hands above his head, both shirts off, only in boxers. This doesn’t look good.

“What the hell are you doing to my, son?!” Sun Wukong exclaimed, with his hair in curl pins, and a robe on, with his bunny slippers.

Redson looked down at MK, and flew off of him on his side of the bed. They both hurried to put the blanket across both of them, as Redson put his hand out, “Nononono, this is NOT what it looks like! I was just tickling him!! Nothing more, nothing less!!”

“Well, I sure hope you do something less!! It is 1 am! Some people need their beauty sleep!” Tang fluttered his eyes, with his hair too in curl pins. (You can’t tell me otherwise he doesn’t do curl pins).

“Like the look.” Sun Wukong pointed at him.

“Why thank you-“ he was interrupted by Mei.

“Can you boys just go to sleep?! If I have to come out here again, I promise you, there’ll be more than a loud game of tickling.” She punched her fist, making the boys infront of them quickly agree.

“Yes ma’am” they both whined, huddling together, bc an angry Mei is not a pretty Mei.

“We promise to go to sleep!” MK tried to rush them out.

Pigsy, Sandy, Tang, and Mei, sighed and left the room, leaving SWK and Macaque. “You get off that boy, this instant!” The Monkie King, stomped his foot down, acting like an overprotective dad.

“Aw, come on, let them have their fun, plus we haven’t finished where we left off, you mind coming back with me, Peaches~?” The six-eared macaque winked at his husband, making him blush.

“Uh-uh, Yes!! Just give me a sec! I swear to god, if you hurt him, Redboy, I’m coming!!! Mark my words!”

“Not yet, you aren’t, now hurry up, I don’t like waiting.” Sun Wukong can hear his husband call from down the hall, and blushed some more. He stopped in his tracks before eyeing down Redson, and shut the door behind him, as he hurriedly chased after his husband.

Redson and MK’s face were all beat red, being embarrassed they were caught in the act. Until, Mk piped up, “wow, you sure are ticklish!”

Earning a pillow to his face, “shut up! Your laugh was the one that got us caught.”

They both laughed, as they settled down. Mk putting the pillow under his head as he dozed off.

Yeah, Redson would destroy the world for his boyfriend, and if it wasn’t destroyed, then he was dead. Boy, does he want to continue tickling MK, but that’ll wait till tomorrow.

[smittywing]

FicBit: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

This seriously has no title. Why.

Yesterday's bit.

Today, Jason attempts to remove his boot from his mouth.

Jason squared his shoulders and stepped across the street.  There.  He was officially in Red Robin’s territory.  It really would ruin the dramatic moment if Tim didn’t show up soon within the next few seconds.

Fortunately, Jason could hear the muted roar of Red Robin’s Ducati as he cornered onto Willingham Boulevard and pulled to a stop in front of Jason.  Baby Bird had *style*, Jason had to give him that.

“What are you doing here?” Tim demanded through his helmet.  

Jason sighed.  “Are you hungry?”

“No,” Tim said, but rolled his eyes when his stomach audibly growled.  Jason tried not to smirk too hard.  Tim reliably drank too much coffee and forgot to eat real food.  “Fine,” he said. “Yes.”

“I’ll pick up some Big Belly Burger and meet you on the roof of the Glitter Factory,” he offered, referring to the strip club across the street.

“Yeah, okay,” Tim said grudgingly, shifting his weight over the bike.  “No onions.”

“The onions are the best part,” Jason protested but Tim was already on the move.

It took about fifteen minutes to grab a couple of double cheeseburger meals (no onions for Princess Timothy) with large fries and circle back to the rooftop of the [building name].  Tim was sitting on the edge and he watched Jason approach suspiciously, like Jason was about to push him off or something.

That was totally uncalled for, Tim’s burger wasn’t worth stealing.

“Here,” Jason said, handing Tim one of the bags.  “No onions.”

“Thanks,” Tim said.  “To what do I owe this generosity?”

Jason took his time sitting down next to Tim on the rooftop and inspected his own burger to ensure it had all requisite toppings before taking a bite.

“It’s been pointed out to me that I may have been a shit to you,” he admitted on the swallow.

“What was that?” Tim asked.  Jason rolled his eyes.

“I was a shit to you.  When you, you know.”

“Came out to you?”  Tim shrugged and bit into his own burger.  “Whatever. Thanks for not punching me in the face I guess?”

Jason sighed. “I’m not that guy,” he said, feeling exactly like that guy.  “I was trying to be like, you know, cool.  Sure you’re gay.  Or bi.  Or whatever.  You’re still the same guy I like to give a hard time.”  Nope.  “Like to rag on.  Tease.”  Shit, now it was weird.

Tim was snort-laughing into his burger.  “You have zero game.  Negative game.”

“I guess I’m a fighter, not a lover,” Jason said, scratching his chin. That much was true.  He was almost 20 and sex wasn't even one of his top five thoughts at any given time. 

“I don't even know what I am,” Tim sighed, in a change of tone. He kicked at Jason's boot. 

“You're smart as fuck and true to yourself and Cannon Fodder doesn't know how lucky he is to have you,” Jason said without thinking. 

Tim turned his head and stared at Jason. “That's the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me,” he said suspiciously. “Except the part where you called my boyfriend Cannon Fodder.”

Jason shrugged.  “I don’t make the rules,” he said.  “Are we cool, now?”

Drake looked like he was chewing over multiple insulting comebacks but couldn’t figure out which one to go with.  Finally he looked out over the city and said, “We’re cool.”

“Okay,” Jason said.  “Good.”

[ceilingfan5]

may i suggest F (staying over because their basement flooded) w magnus n someone of ur choice :O? thank you -ise

"I still can't believe you were going to spend your money on a hotel!" Magnus gripes. He's been going on about it for maybe fifteen eternities, eons even, and he wouldn't even let Lucretia put the sheets on the spare bed herself. Even though he struggled with the fitted sheet for solidly five minutes.

Because she's a guest.

She did not want to be a guest, but she didn't have any choice in the matter, it seems.

"My insurance might pay for it, you don't know," Lucretia says, watching Magnus fluff up the eighth pillow in a row. She's decided to just lean in the doorway and take it in anthropology style. Ah yes, David Attenborough would say. The Magnus in his natural state: passionate, helpful confusion. Watch carefully as he makes his choices based almost entirely on impulse, and finds himself in a corner. If he wants to survive the winter, he may have to rely on a little help to get the job done. Mutualism-

"I don't know lots of things," Magnus says, like this is a good argument for his side. "But you know what I do know? Family helps family, and we aren't gonna let you rot in a hotel while rats have a pool party in your basement!"

"Yuck," Lucretia says, not budging an inch. "Thanks for willing rats into my home, Magnus, you really know how to cheer a motherfucker up."

"You're welcome!" Magnus grins at her, and pats the bed. The corners are less 'hospital' and more 'cake frosted with fingers', but it's clean, and she didn't have to pay for it, and maybe she shouldn't be a bitter butthole when Magnus is being so kind. One of the pillows slowly tips from the position it was squished into and flops onto the bed, and then the floor, and there's a long bet of silence before she snickers.

"Ah, shit," Magnus says, frowning a little. "You can probably buff that out."

"It isn't totaled," Lucretia agrees, holding in laughter so hard she's trying not to cry. This whole situation is so fucking stupid, and what is she going to lose it about? A dumb pillow on the floor. It just looks so pathetic, and it would be easy to wax poetic about identifying the pathos within herself in this trying moment, but mostly it looks so lost, like a kindergartener in a cigarette factory.

She looks at the pillow, and then looks at Magnus, and maybe Magnus is better at reading her than she thought, because his face is bright red with holding in the laughter too, and the seam bursts and they're losing it. When Julia walks in and looks at the two of them, rolling around on the floor with the stupid, pathetic pillow, she just smiles and shakes her head. She must be used to bullshit like this from Magnus, but she doesn't say a word about Lucretia losing her composure for once. And Lucretia is grateful.

"Dinner in seven minutes and forty nine seconds," Julia calls, breezing right back to her 5,000 piece puzzle of the cats in Halloween costumes dismantling the White House. Lucretia leans on Magnus, and Magnus leans on her, and it's the first time in a long time she's touched or been touched by anyone, and she's not having an emotion about it and if you would like to accuse her of such, Uno reverse, and go sit on it, maybe. But Magnus pulls her into one of his signature bear hugs, and Lucretia is stunned into silence that she's letting her friend hold her, and fuck…it's so good.

"You don't have to do it all by yourself," Magnus whispers.

"Can I hire you to repeat that until I believe it?" Lucretia closes her eyes, and tries not to let her body fully reject the concept like some kind of disease.

"I dunno," Magnus sighs. "My rates are pretty steep. But there's a friends and family discount, so maybe we could work on a payment plan?"

They laugh, and they sigh, and they get another incredibly specific dinner warning. And then they carry on, because they have to, but not alone.

[technicallyverycowboy]

kinnporsche finale ep 14

this was fun as hell! truly cannot thank @vegaseatsass enough for getting me to watch it less than a month ago. really put in the work there, bb <3

shit i loved about episode 14:

vegas just out here wearing a silk pajamas shirt as a top like some kind of thrifty lesbian. more importantly, he warns porsche! he does care about him! (the alternate interpretation is that he's doing it for pete. honestly porque no los dos?)

the first time i watched the finale i was slightly stoned and upon seeing gun, whispered very sincerely to my wife, "that's how you can tell they're in the past. his ascot is smaller."

i'm so sorry, but the incest fake out is extremely funny to me

the audacity of korn to claim that he lost track of porsche and porchay when they are still living in their parents' house. unless he straight up forgot they existed for the last ten years, he damn well knew.

lol kim would rip chan's throat out with his teeth fiven five minutes.

my hottest take for this fandom is that i think porsche was always in the family, he just didn't know. so going from being totally in the dark at the start to being in a position where he can do something about it is strongly hopeful. gun and korn's fucking around has finally been found out, which means porsche and kinn can start their own fucking around.

my second hottest take is that i don't think it really matters which brother shot his dad. i think the years long captivity of his mom is the much worse thing.

actually it's very hot of kinn when he starts shooting at board meetings. the subtle red stripe to his suit is such a chef's kiss moment. i love that he really hasn't killed a ton of people, which makes this moment a little bit shocking.

what in the bougie ass head camp counselor fuck is this war outfit, gun?

i'm! on! your! side! and that, i think, is why korn has, at bare minimum, not totally won. yes, he is masterful at pulling the strings, but he's dealing with people not puppets and there is inherent unpredictability (and incest apparently) in that.

kinn getting in one last grope in case he dies and this is his last chance. the hug/dance/shooting sequence is a work of art.

the saddest thing about vegas is that kinn has consumed so much of his interior life and kinn doesn't really think that much about him at all. also the panic in kinn yelling "don't" is great for me personally, known enjoyer of hot men suffering.

oh shit we've come full circle and we're running through parking garages again! somewhere in the hospital where big is definitely alive he just rolled his eyes and doesn't know why.

"if i die today, could you be the one to kill me?" DERANGED (positive)

"because i'm hungry"/"are you very hungry" once again my soul exits my body and flies toward the sun. the way vegas's voice breaks on "why did you follow me?"

can you imagine what the other mafia families in the world make of this shit? korn's nephew taking power, also fucking korn's son.

it's actually very funny that most of the time kinn and porsche are fucking it's to the soundtrack of kinn's baby brother singing a song about porsche's baby brother.

i find tankhun sending that photo really fucking pointed and i love that about him

and finally, macau's response of, "i was eavesdropping obviously" is the exact little brother energy i appreciate in this family.

obvi the next step for vegas and pete is getting vegas to understand that someone can be both the most important person in the world to you and also a beloved pet.

[lostnfounder]

[ The following is a transcript of an interaction that took place between Lostfield Reporter Ruth Shirbon and Flora Watterson.]

[About a minute or so of silence, and the sound of paper rustling. The paper rustling becomes more aggressive the longer the silence drags on. Ruth can be heard muttering under her breath right before there’s the sound of footsteps approaching.]

F: … Uhh, do you want… help with-

R: No, I don’t.

F: Oh. Shit.

[Awkward, drawn-out pause.]

F: Hi, Ruth.

R: [Standing abruptly from where they’re crouched trying to shelve, and begins pushing the cart in the opposite direction.]

F: Oh, come on, seriously?

R: [Suddenly turning around. Her face totally isn’t red at all.] What, I’m the weird one for not wanting to talk to my ex girlfriend?? 

F: [Shifting uncomfortably, putting a hand on her hip as she turns to look out the window. His tone is still nonchalant.] We were kids, Ruth.

R: Wh- It was two years ago. That’s- hardly a lifetime.

F: I never said it was a lifetime- [Sighing.] {I’m pretty sure I caught him mumbling “Typical” under her breath. Dickhead.} Well, I imagine we’ve both changed enough that that shouldn’t matter.

R: Do you still watch Showfall shit?

F: Yes.

R: Then you haven’t changed.

F: Then neither have you. 

R: Ohhh, don’t even start-

F: [Cutting them off.] How are you still hung up on this?? I know you want something to be angry about, but- I mean, come on, direct that anger at like, the rich, or something.

R: [Sound of fabric brushing as she crosses her arms.] Showfall Media is a multi-billion dollar company.

F: {The most neutral of neutral faces I have ever seen.}

R: Look, I don’t have time for another Flora Lecture, alright! I’m trying to do my job!

F: “Flora Lec-” No, you know what. Nevermind. [She shakes her head, almost disappointedly, sighing.] You work here now? I thought you hated the library because it’s-

R: -too new and not at all like a place that would be the location for a cool ghost story. Yeah.

F: [Bites her lip to stifle a chuckle, but it fails like it always did to stop a small smile.] 

R: [Not smiling at all.] Well. That and the bat incident.

F: What? [Surprised laugh.] I never heard about that one.

R: Yeah, well. 

[Another uncomfortably long pause.]

R: What are you doing back in Lostfield?

F: [Furrowing brows.] You don’t have to sound so rude about it.

R: Fuck you.

F: [Huge, theatrical eyeroll, fluttering his long eyelashes a moment later. He’s so dramatic.] If you need to know, I’m here for my dad’s birthday. I’m on fall break.

R: Oh. [Small pause.] And you’re… spending that time… volunteering at a library??

F: Pssh. It’s not just any library. I practically lived here in highschool, don’t you remember?

R: … No.

F: [Her shoulders drop, ever so slightly.] Well… Well. I did. After we first moved here I was so hung up about not still being in Cali-

R: Oh, I remember that part loud and clear. ‘Ohh, I’m Flora from San Francisco, I don’t want to be here, I hate this place, it’s so small,’ blah blah blah. Hey, don’t laugh at me.

F: [Snickering.] I wasn’t that bad, was I?

R: Oh no, much worse.

F: [Stops laughing abruptly.] Oh. Well… this was an important place to me, is all. I figured I’d come help shelve again. Ms. Laura said she missed me, but you could tell she mostly missed my ability to shelve the non-fiction stuff. [Soft laugh.] 

R: [Muttering.] Yeah, aren’t you so great at everything.

F: What?

R: Nothing. Can I get back to shelving now?

F: … Yeah. Yeah, Ruth. It was… [Her voice dims as there’s a rustling from Ruth beginning to power-walk away.] Wait, wait.

{At this point she’d come after me and grabbed my sleeve. I was totally completely normal about this for the record.}

F: I’m. I wanted to. Uhm.

R: What!! Why can’t you- [Tugs sleeve away. But carefully.] -leave me alone?

F: I’m sorry, Ruth. For- For lying about not liking Showfall. For what happened to the Theorist Society and- everything. I’m sorry.

[A pause. About five seconds.]

R: [Very quietly.] … What?

F: You don’t have to forgive me. I know it meant a lot to you.

R: No. No, you. You can’t apologize. You can’t just-

F: I know, I know, it’s been over a year, and I should have said it sooner, I was scared-

R: Y-Yeah, well maybe stop being a fucking coward, then? I’m- I’m so- I’m fucking done. It’s done. It’s over. It’s been over.

F: Ruth-

R: Leave me alone, Flora.

[Loud stomping footsteps as the recording device is swiftly walked in the opposite direction.]

F: [Distantly.] Okay.

[The footsteps continue for another minute or so, until there’s the sound of someone falling back into a chair, and then a louder rustling as the recording device is retrieved from a pocket and turned off.]

[Transcript end.]

[sturmhondsdemjin]

Four part one

That night, as Alex stares into the cold, pitiless eyes of a prehistoric beast of prey, he has a few regrets.

THEY KNOW, he texts Henry. THEY KNOW I HAVE ROBBED THEM OF FIVE-STAR ACCOMMODATIONS TO SIT IN A CAGE IN MY ROOM, AND THE MINUTE I TURN MY BACK THEY ARE GOING TO FEAST ON MY FLESH.

I think he’s cute, Henry responds.

that’s because you can’t hear all the menacing gobbling

Yes, famously the most sinister of all animal sounds, the gobble.

“You know what, you little shit,” Alex says the second the call connects, “you can hear it for yourself and then tell me how you would handle this—”

“Alex?” Henry’s voice sounds scratchy and bewildered across the line. “Have you really rung me at three o’clock in the morning to make me listen to a turkey?”

“Yes, obviously,” Alex says. He glances at Cornbread and cringes. “Jesus Christ, it’s like they can see into your soul. Cornbread knows my sins, Henry. Cornbread knows what I have done, and he is here to make me atone.”

“Oh, I fucking hate you!” Alex shouts as Henry laughs at his own idiotic prank, and his indignant flailing startles a loud gobble out of Cornbread, which in turn startles a very unmanly scream out of Alex. “Goddammit! Did you hear that?”

“Sorry, what?” Henry says. “I’ve been stricken deaf.”

“You’re such a dick,” Alex says. “Have you ever even been turkey hunting?”

“Alex, you can’t even hunt them in Britain.”

Alex returns to his bed and face-plants into a pillow. “I hope Cornbread does kill me.”

“No, all right, I did hear it, and it was … proper frightening,” Henry says.

“You couldn’t just go sleep somewhere else? Aren’t there a thousand rooms in that house?”

“Okay, but, uh, what if they escape? I’ve seen Jurassic Park. Did you know birds are directly descended from raptors? That’s a scientific fact. Raptors in my bedroom, Henry. And you want me to go to sleep like they’re not gonna bust out of their enclosures and take over the island the minute I close my eyes? Okay. Maybe your white ass.”

“I’m really going to have you offed,” Henry tells him. “You’ll never see it coming. Our assassins are trained in discretion. They will come in the night, and it will look like a humiliating accident.”

“Autoerotic asphyxiation?”

“Toilet heart attack.”

“Jesus.”

“You’ve been warned.”

“I thought you’d kill me in a more personal way. Silk pillow over my face, slow and gentle suffocation. Just you and me. Sensual.”

“Ha. Well.” Henry coughs.

“Anyway,” Alex says, climbing fully up onto the bed now. “It doesn’t matter because one of these goddamn turkeys is gonna kill me first.”

“What are you even doing right now?”

“What am I doing? I was trying to sleep.”

“Okay, but you’re eating Jabba Cakes, so.”

“Jaffa Cakes, my God,” Henry says. “I’m having my entire life haunted by a deranged American Neanderthal and a pair of turkeys, apparently.”

“Alex,” Henry says firmly.

“What?”

“The turkeys are not going to Jurassic Park you,” he says. “You’re not the bloke from Seinfeld. You’re Jeff Goldblum. Go to sleep.”

Alex bites down a smile that feels bigger than the sentence has truly earned. “You go to sleep.”

[Image ID: a screenshot from Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. It is a text thread between Alex and Henry that reads

HRH Prince Dickhead poop emoji

Dec 8, 2019, 8:53 PM

yo there's a bond marathon on and did you know your dad was a total babe

HRH Prince Dickhead poop emoji I BEG YOU TO NOT

End ID]

[1lostone]

Author interview

@myulalie tagged me and I’m pretty excited to do this.

1. How many works do you have on ao3:

219 I think a good bit of those are probably podfic, but I’m not mad about it. 

2. What's my total ao3 wc:

2,277,720. This is due to my need to write ridiculous wordmonsters.  

3. What are my top 5 fics by kudos:

Some of these are pretty old. Maybe I’m past my prime. :D 

Hey There Little Red (Teen Wolf)

Love The One You’re With (Star Trek AOS)

Nowhere Man (Teen Wolf) 

Five Times Stiles Needed A Crash Course On Wolfy Behavior And The One Time He Figured Shit Out. (Teen Wolf)

What The Moon Showed Me (Teen Wolf)

4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes, always!  But sometimes it takes me awhile to remember. I tend to save them up and do a whole group at once. 

5. What fic has the angstiest ending?

Um. I’m not sure. Probably Little Lion Man- but it’s more ambiguous than angsty.  Still, my friend said she wanted to slap the green off Spock's cheeks, so ...

6. What fic has the happiest ending?

Weirdly, I think it’s It ain't easy to get to heaven (When you're goin' down) - the one I wrote about Aaron and Jesus from TWD.  I made them work for their happy ending. 

7. Do you write crossovers?

Sure. I write just about anything. 

8. Have you received hate on ao3?

Of course. Who hasn’t. 

9. Do you write smut?

Yep.

10. Have you had a fic get stolen?

YES AND I HATE IT A LOT.

11. Have you had a fic get translated?

Yes! 

12. Have you co-written a fic?

Sort of. The intentions were good and we decided it was best if we just stick to our own lanes :D 

13. What's your fav ship?

Lord.  I dip between ships like crazy. I don’t know if I have a favorite per se. 

14. What's a WIP you want to finish but never will?

SPICE. (I WILL FINISH I WILL!) 

15. What are my writing strengths?

Honestly, I’ve been so burnt out on writing lately I don’t know. I think I can tell a good story, and I’m good at resolving angst.  I think that's why I'm clinging to podficcing- I can still be a part of fandom, but idk. I need my writing mojo back.

16. What are my writing weaknesses?

It can take me 809012 words to describe a sneeze. I can also take myself too seriously. 

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages on ao3?

I have done it, but only with much help and handholding from people who actually speak that language. My 10 years of French 30 years ago would only annoy a native speaker. 

18. What's the first fandom you wrote for?

X-Files and CSI. I can’t remember which was first, it was a whole hot minute ago. 

19. What fandom/ship have you not written but want to?

UM. There are so many.  I’ve been in the Good Omens fandom since the book came out IN THE NINETIES but have never been brave enough to write anything. Maybe I can this year. . . 

20. What's your fav fic you've written?

Hmm.  It’s hard to pick one. Probably a tossup between Weep, Little Lionman, and in the bed where you lie. 

I’m always hesitant to tag people, but if any mutuals do this, tag me so I know you took it on!