#St Peter's College
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St Peter's College in Oxford looking very summery. A long-time prof here, Francis Warner, was the last graduate student of C.S. Lewis, author of the Narnia books 🌿.
#oxford#academia#narnia#c.s. lewis#inklings#dark academia#St Peter's College#college life#magical#university#university of oxford#academia moodboard#academia aesthetic#the chronicles of narnia#mine#classic academia#literature#magical books#dark acadamia aesthetic
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Freddie was writing to his family whenever he’s at boarding school in India:
“Dear Mum & Dad. I hope you are all well and Kashmira’s cold is better. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Me and my friends at the Ashleigh House are like a second family.
The teachers are very strict and discipline is most important here at St. Peter’s. I’m very happy to tell you that I was awarded the big trophy, Best All Rounder Junior. I received a big trophy and they even took a photograph, which will appear in the annual school magazine.
I’m very proud and I hope you are too. Send my love to Kash. I love my little sister as I love you all. Farrokh.”
Photo: Angelina Karpunina colored this photo of Freddie’s originally in black and white
➡️Color_byangelina on Instagram
📸 Pic: 1958 at the College - Farrokh Bulsara won a sports competition and won the Junior All-rounder trophy
#india#farrokh bulsara#1958#freddie mercury#queen band#london#zanzibar#legend#queen#brian may#john deacon#freddiebulsara#roger taylor#college#st peter's
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most cursed thing about my hre x veneziano headcanons is that every discord kitten meme applies to them
#leave the basilica of st. peter’s now katzchen daddy is going to bribe the college of cardinals ❤️#holytalia#i hate them#hws veneziano#hws holy roman empire#text
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St. Peter's: 2023-24 Metro Atlantic Men's Basketball Champions
ATLANTIC CITY – They’re back!
Two years after Saint Peter’s made its inspiring run to the NCAA Tournament’s Elite Eight, the tiny school from Jersey City returns to March Madness looking to regain its Cinderella status.
The Peacocks punched their ticket with a 68-63 win over Fairfield in Saturday night’s MAAC Tournament championship game at Jim Whelan Boardwalk Hall, emerging as the No. 5 seed with its third win in as many days.
Sophomore forward Corey Washington led the way with 24 points, at the Peacocks won their fifth MAAC title overall, and their second in three years.
Saint Peter’s is the team that started New Jersey’s recent run of shocking postseason performances, the first of three New Jersey schools to advance against long odds, with Princeton reaching the Elite Eight a year ago, when FDU won two games at a No. 16 seed, including a takedown of top-seeded Purdue.
Now, with Mason having replaced Shaheen Holloway, now the Seton Hall boss, and just one player, MAAC Defensive Player of the Year Latrell Reid, who finished with nine points, remaining on the Peacocks’ roster from two years ago, they head back to the Big Dance.
The Peacocks now wait to find out their next opponent when the 68-team field is announced Sunday night. They figure to be a 16 seed and could end up in the First Four in Dayton, perhaps against NEC champs Wagner, coached by Donald Copeland, a former assistant coach to Saint Peter’s head coach Bashir Mason at Wagner. If they are in the main draw, it could mean a rematch with Purdue, who they beat in the Sweet 16 two years ago, or Houston or North Carolina.
Defense makes difference After Saint Peter’s built a 61-54 lead, Fairfield rallied with a steal and score by Jalen Leach and a drive by Brycen Goodine to make it 61-58 with 1:39 to play. Washington then missed the front-end of a one-and-one, with Fairfield getting a score from Goodine on a drive to pull within a point with 1:16 left.
When Washington went back to the line shooting two, he sank two to make it a 63-60 game with 1:07 on the clock.
It then came down to the Saint Peter’s defense, which came into the game ranked 12th nationally, getting a stop, with Marcus Randolph getting fouled on the defensive rebound with 50.9 left. He made one of two from the line to make it a two-possession game at 64-60.
Caleb Field then scored on a drive and was fouled for Fairfield, completing the three-point play with 39.9 seconds left. Clarke was fouled and made two free throws with 15.1 seconds. Fairfield’s Jasper Floyd missed a jumper at the other end, with Washington getting fouled with 2.9 seconds left, hitting both free throws to seal the win.
After going down 29-19, the Peacocks rallied with a quick 6-0 run, pulling within four points on a pair of free throws by Marcus Randolph with 1:53 left. But a Yetna tip-in put the Stags up 32-25 at halftime, with Yetna leading all scorers with 10 points over the opening 20 minutes.
Then Washington took over, scoring six straight points, with the final two coming after he blocked a shot at one end and took the ball coast-to-coast for the score, giving the Peacocks a 49-44 lead. It stretched to 52-46 on a triple by Clarke with 7:40 left.
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What Happens in Bethlehem Doesn't Stay in Bethlehem
A sermon for Christmas Day.It is a time to celebrate the wonder of the holy birth. But the child will become a man, and he is going to ask some difficult things of us someday.
Sandro Botticelli, The Virgin adoring the sleeping Christ Child (c. 1485), Scotland National Gallery, Edinburgh. What on earth happened last night—at that little stable on the edge of town? It was all so strange, so unbelievable. Some of us are still sleeping it off. Some of us didn’t get any sleep at all, or maybe we were asleep the whole time and it was all just a dream. There was a really…
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#Bethlehem#Birth of Jesus#Christmas#Ephrem the Syrian#Everything is holy now#G.K. Chesterton#II Corinthians 3:18#Incarnation#John 1:1-14#Kings College Lessons and Carols#Luci Shaw#Mary Elizabeth Coleridge#Peter Mayer#St. Maximus the Confessor#Thomas Merton#Word made flesh
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Wolf Hall + Art Anne of Cleves by Bartholomaeus Bruyn the elder
The portrait was purchased in c.1734 by the then President and major benefactor of St John’s, William Holmes, for his private collection, and then acquired for the College by his successor as President, William Derham, in 1748. The sitter was only identified in print as Anne of Cleves as late as 1855, in J. W. Burgon’s Arms of the Colleges of Oxford. The date and authorship of the painting long remained debatable. Following major conservation work on the portrait in 1989/90, the conservator Candy Kuhl and the then Keeper of Pictures at St John’s, Professor Peter Hacker, persuasively argued in the Burlington Magazine for the date in the 1530s at the court of Cleves, before Anne came to England to marry Henry. (source)
link (wolf hall + art series)
thanks to @english-history-trip to point it out.
#wolf hall#the mirror and the light#wh#periodramaedit#tudorerasource#tudor era#anne of cleves#anna von kleve#dana herfurth#art#artwh#tvgifs#tv shows#costumes#drama costumes#16th century#tudor england#Bartholomaeus Bruyn the elder#german art#adaptationsdaily#hilary mantel#by fefa
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In the first-ever union of the Word of God and the Synthesizer, the Catholic Church’s College of Cardinals voted unanimously Monday to incorporate the lyrics of Yes into the New Testament. The resulting new Bible, the Revised Standard YesScriptures, will replace the Jerusalem Bible of 1966 as the standard accepted record and vehicle of divine revelation.
“Let us rejoice in this momentous occasion,” said Pope John Paul II in a special service at St. Peter’s. “And let no man be unmoved, remembering the words of Jesus: ’In and around the lake, mountains come out of the sky, and they stand there.’ Amen.”
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that pic of hugh dancy during his time at st. peter’s college, oxford circa 1994 is so important to me and my gender identity
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banner made by: @thursdaygxrls
because of the character count (145,091) and tumblrs format skills (it's shit) i had to adjust some sizing but i wanted all of this in one part.
CHAPTER ONE: BRUJA
PETER PARKER’S FIRST WEEK.
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH
Steve Jobs is lucky he’s dead.
Because if he wasn’t, he’d have to deal with a pissed off Peter Parker woken up with a brooding hangover by the screeches of marimba.
Peter wasn’t sure whose idea it was to throw a goodbye summer bash the night before classes started but he wishes them death. A ‘goodbye summer' party, what a dumb fucking idea. It’s college, every day is summer. If he’s picked up anything from being with the frat for two years it’s that they’ll make up any excuse to party.
International Women’s Day? Guys can only get in if they’re half naked.
Valentine’s Day? Singles dress as cupid, couples in red and pink.
Friday the 13th? Horror movie character costumes only.
St. Patrick's Day? That’s what those guys lived for.
It didn’t matter what it was, if there was cause for celebration and drinking, it was going to be a party. Trying to ease a headache he rubbed his temples, it did nothing and proved useless when someone banging a spoon and pot in the kitchen made his ears ring.
“Chapter meeting! Chapter meeting! Chapter-” Peter yelled as loud as he could, “shut the fuck up!” His head throbbed.
God, he fucking hated the start of the year, all the new people coming in sucking up to him and everyone else in the frat. The secondary members used it to their advantage, most of the officers didn’t impress easily, only using them when they felt like laughing at someone desperately trying to please.
He had to redo the entire budget, and had to run through the same health and safety meeting that would get ignored, and then he’d have to get physical when someone pushed the rules a little too far.
Peter had a hangover from hell and almost gagged getting up from bed, shuffling towards his bedroom door in just sweatpants. Yawning and scratching at his scalp as he walked down the stairs, he made the routine walk to the meeting room door that was open, a hidden room behind a bookcase, only chapter officers allowed.
The room was dark, a gigantic oak table took up the center of the room, black leather chairs surrounded. The frats name and logo grinded into the middle. A pool table in one corner, a bar in the back and several leather couches. Peter took his seat and nodded at his friend next to him, the chapter president paced the front of the room with notes, when the last guy entered the door was shut behind him.
“Welcome to the hunt boys, we waited all year for this.”
Trent Simpson, chapter president. Deep alumni, the fraternity in his family for generations.
“Before we start the meeting, please state who you are and your role on the board. Obviously, I’m Trent Simpson, your president.”
“Matt Paul, chapter vice president.”
“Nick Aaron, secretary.”
“Ethan Keznek, sergeant-at-arms.”
“Peter Parker, treasurer and health and safety officer.”
“Tarrent Bakner, recruitment chairman.”
“James Hasco, housing officer.”
“Booker Thomas, membership development.”
Trent clapped his hands and motioned to the black folder everyone had. “Welcome to the first meeting of our rushing season for Sigma Nu. In each of your folders you’ll see our potential new members, if you don’t see anyone you like, time to tell me is now.”
Peter eyed the page, only one thing set him off. Ted and Harry Linus, twins. He hated twins, last year he had gotten put in the middle of so many fights he swore he’d never let twins back in his house.
Peter’s hand jotted up, clicking his pen quickly. “Nix the twins.” Trent crossed out the names with a sharpie, “nixed.”
“Next are the outline of our weeks with the rush, and hazing schedules. Parker, I want you and Keznek to print up the chapter handbooks.” Ethan held his fist up towards Peter, he tapped his knuckles on his and looked over the schedule.
“Finally, and this is a new one. I acquired a friend that can get some hard to get info really easily, so what you see in front of you is every fraternity's event.”
Interesting, that’s a pretty hard thing to get your hands on, let alone fifteen. Fraternity events were highly competitive, and if they had every event in their back pocket they could be number one.
Peter fought back a yawn, he wanted nothing more than another two hours of sleep. But his day began here, in a chapter officer meeting, on a Tuesday, with a hangover and only time to prepare for class. God, he really didn’t want to go to class today. He can barely remember what he signed up for.
“... again, that’ll be next Tuesday, and like usual, freshman welcome on Friday. Any more questions before we close?”
Booker’s hand goes up, “what about the sororities?”
“Great question, we’ll only be circling with Zeta and Omega.”
Peter nods approvingly, that’s nice to hear. Last year they partnered with four sororities and even the party guys were getting a little overwhelmed. It sucked they had to use the frat houses for parties but they chipped in and bought way better alcohol, not to mention all the fucking girls, it was truly pick of the litter.
Matt Paul shoots out, “can we please promise each other right now we won’t have another Sara situation?”
There was a reason Peter had two positions, Logan Leeman freaked out when Sara Niks dumped him. Actually went full blown nuts and had to be carted off in an ambulance, no one’s heard from him since.
“God that was awful, I mean, he knew the chick for what, four months?”
Peter nodded absentmindedly at Nick’s comment, disconnecting from the conversation and running numbers through his head. His attention was brought back when Trent smacked his gavel on the soundblock.
“We’re back baby, and it’s open fucking season. One, two, three,”
The brotherhood chanted, “Sig Nu!”
—------------
Peter’s rinsing shampoo out of his hair when someone bangs on his bathroom door, he calls out over the rushing water, “yeah?”
“Hey, some of the guys and I are gonna hit up the food hall before we gotta split, you down?”
He can’t lie, the dining hall is damn good. He’s missed the breakfast burritos, and Linda. She’s been working in the kitchen at the university for over twenty years, he got to talking to her one day and now goes out of his way to give her a hello. He can’t wait to catch up and tell her all about his summer, and fuck, he’d kill for an orange juice. Oh god, he has to do so much grocery shopping.
“Yeah, give me ten minutes!” As if on command his stomach growls, he’s reminded of his hangover and he has physics in two hours. At least the shower’s warm. It’s his saving grace.
University has been good on Peter, he looks like he belongs; top dog on campus feels good. He fills out his frat tee better this year, spidey working double time this summer to make up for the slow six months he’s about to have. Heather gray and red detailing, his pants black, and a signature white snapback. He should’ve gotten a haircut, but he chose to drink like an idiot. The night was fun though, it was worth it in the moment.
Taking a final glance, Peter tucks the chain around his neck into his shirt, and takes a deep breath before his first day of his junior year starts.
He’s ready.
—----------------
“Did anyone see Trevor slam his head against the wall last night or was that just me?”
“You mean Lopes?” Peter really wishes he was around to see that.
Hasco is on level ten, Peter’s convinced he’s off a bump or two of coke, he’s just a tad too twitchy for his liking. “Bro, he just bounced that fucker off the wall. Stared at me and did it. No fucking reason. He’s fucking crazy.”
Peter snorts, “why, was he off the powder?” He bites down on his bottom lip when his friends toss him around by his shoulders giving soft ‘oo’s’ at his jab. Hasco flips him the bird, “even if he was, that’s fucked up, right?”
Keznek follows up, “you think he’d do it again if i asked?”
Nick pipes up, “ten down on yes,” Tarrent raises a finger, “coked up or sober?”
“Does it matter?”
Tarrent nods, “fair enough.”
Peter cuts through the bullshit, “can we please talk about Simpson and the fucking list this year? Thirty two people is such bullshit, at this point it’s just a dick measuring contest with Alpha Delta.”
Hasco sniffs as he nods his head, “yeah, not to mention all the fucking shuffling. Too many people for no reason, especially because we’re cutting twelve almost immediately.” Nick scoffs, “you’re telling me, I have to keep track of every motherfucker going in and out.”
Peter’s best friend lets out a refreshing sigh, “I got the best job, I just make sure Tarrent does his job.” Hasco barks back, “shut the fuck up, Keznek.”
“If I may, I have the worst out of all of you combined. I have to keep track of every fucking receipt, everyone’s dues, every god damn bill. Then I get to sit around and try to teach consent to a bunch of brain dead eighteen year olds.”
“And safety! Don’t forget all the fights you had to break up last year.”
It’s just so fucking tiring sometimes, but he’s the reason he and the entire frat have a place to sleep. “Thanks for the reminder, Nick.” Nick claps his shoulder, “anytime, bud.” Tarrent starts humming, “I’m getting so much food, you have no idea.”
“I’m doubling down on burritos.”
Ethan sucks in a breath, “me too.”
Tarrent opens the doors to the dining hall and voices explode, overlapping chatter from every corner. It pierced through his ears and stabbed at his headache, Hasco sniffs and nods his head impressively, “fuck yeah,” bumping Peter’s shoulder when he walked in.
“Jesus fucking christ.”
Ethan holds back a chuckle at Peter’s audible mumble, choosing to mock Hasco instead, nodding at Peter walking by, “fuck yeah, man.”
Peter nods towards Paul, sitting at a table with his girlfriend and who he assumes are her friends, he doesn’t care enough to actually look. Paul barely gives him a wave between inhaling his burrito, he’s gotten three, meaning he has to do an impressive four, unless Tarrents goes for four, then he’s maxing out at five.
Things you learn in a frat, it’s the little things that mean the most dominance wise.
He hangs at the back of the line so he can catch up with his favorite lunch lady on campus, until the closer he gets he can’t see her. Moving his head back and forth but coming up short he assumes she’s in the kitchen. She usually worked the register in the morning and afternoon, but he supposes new year, a new schedule.
Peter slides through the line with six breakfast burritos and a fruit cup, because it’s all about balance. Giving that deathly smile to his second favorite lunch lady, “hey, Mrs. Zoe. How was your summer?”
Sweat dots her forehead, “hot and long, how about yours, honey?” He can’t complain much, he actually took it slow. “Pretty good, hey, um, is Linda around?” Peter doesn’t know what it is but he knows it’s bad by the way Zoe’s face drops, she looked younger than she was, until she was full frowning, then she looked every bit of sixty.
“You didn’t hear?” Peter’s scared to say no but still shakes his head.
“Oh, shit. She dropped a pot on her foot just the right way and shattered the whole thing. She ran out of time off and was let go.”
Peter feels everything in him shake with rage.
Linda took care of him for the past two years of his life, and worked harder than he ever has in his entire life. She dedicated decades of her life to this place, an institution built on community, until one got hurt. Linda made sure that even if he was away from home, he was still fed with love. She talked to him, they formed a bond, he asked about her granddaughter all the time, her husband was sick, she was supporting the house, now what?
“They fired her?” He’s full of pain and anger but his voice comes out timid.
Mrs. Zoe nods her head solemnly, Peter looks at his tray, he’s not so hungry anymore knowing Linda didn’t make a thing on it. Suddenly six burritos seem daunting.
“Is she okay?” That’s all that mattered. He had to fix this, he wasn’t sure how yet but it’s his personal mission to get her back where she belonged.
“She’s still healing up but I guess the university gave her a nice severance package, so she’ll be okay for a while.”
The line’s starting to back up, “do you think I could get her number? I’ll come back for lunch and get it, if you think that’s okay.”
A beaming smile, she looks young again, her eyes crinkle and it shows her joy. “I think she’d love that. I’ll get it for you.” Even if he’s mad, he gives her a polite smile, “thanks, Mrs. Zoe.”
Peter’s heart races as he walks away, the situation swirling in his mind, how fucked it all was. He doesn’t care if they gave her a severance package, she got hurt at work. They should’ve held her job, they should’ve given her a break for the first time in over twenty years.
How could he fix this? Maybe he could get the frat to do a petition, if they sign it then most of the school would get on board. Or shit, what if they go on protest? Do they sit in strike until they give in to the demand? What if he gets-
“So sorry!”
Peter stopped himself from stumbling any further, caught off guard and in the midst of a breakdown he took it out on the assaulter. He doesn’t care if it was an accident, he’s not hard to miss, they just weren’t looking, or paying attention.
And he can see why, big doe eyes blinking at him. Like they’ve never seen an adult man, as if his presence alone was enough to send them into fight or flight. There’s one reason and one reason only, and it’s written all over their face.
“Fucking freshman,” he hates them like no other, last year was enough to paint them in a negative light forever. They were babies, new to drinking, new to being on their own, new to parting. And the entitlement was off a new chart level, they thought they were the big dogs because they finally reached adulthood.
The kind of entitlement that sent them running into people three times their size.
The girl's face changed, she went from frightened to pissed in under three seconds. It almost impressed him, her eyes narrowed as she looked him directly in the eye. For a second he felt challenged, like someone he had to nearly look down on had equal footing against him. All from a freshman no less.
Her words hit directly, she packed a punch behind them and meant each word as they spewed.
“I hope you fucking choke.”
Peter was left speechless, watching her stomp off, while slowly approaching the table his friends occupied. Hasco and Keznek bickering back and forth, which was pointless, Hasco always has to have the last word.
“Explain this one to me,” he immediately caught attention.
“Some freshman knocked into me, almost made me drop everything, then told me she hoped I’d choke. I mean, what the fuck?”
Peter has to look away when Tarrent spews his idea, egg dropping from his mouth.
“She wants to fuck you bro.” Sometimes his stupidity hurts, “what? It was a twenty second interaction and she told me to die.”
“Yeah, that’s how it always starts.”
The table goes quiet, Ethan’s the first to speak. “Tarrent, I think you should sit in on Parker’s health and safety course for a refresher.”
“Oh. Okay.”
—------------------------
Peter thinks he’s a little too hungover and it’s a little too early for him to focus on mechanics and math, so he chooses to look over his syllabus and yawn.
His year was littered with hard classes, approaching the end of his major and now everything counted. The pressure was on, he was prepared to make this his year. He was done with the little kid shit, it was time he got serious and put his future first.
How boring of him, he was going to need Ethan to help bounce him back.
Peter’s first and only class of the day was intro to quantum mechanics, having to sit through that much math and theory made his already pounding headache increase tenfold. Taking a harsh inhale he pulled out his phone for the brother’s group chat, hiding his phone in his lap while his new professor droned on.
‘Who’s fucking idea was this party? I’m dying rn.’
‘Blame Paul.’
‘that’d be pauly.’
‘Keznek emphasized ‘blame paul.’
‘blame me!’
‘Fuck you, paul.”
Peter would be lying if it didn’t make him feel a little bit better. Still, blinking under the fluorescent lighting he wished he could wish his hangover away, he’s never felt this shitty in his life, he’s sure of it. He only had forty minutes left, all he had to do was make it through the lesson, buy his books and spend the rest of the day in bed hiding from every and all light and sound.
It wouldn’t be a terrible year, his professor was the textbook definition of MILF. Blonde bob with streaks of gray, an hourglass figure and oval glasses. Her pantsuit hugged her curves and for a moment he thinks her husband is a lucky guy.
Plus he was pocketed between the hottest chick on campus and some mega genius, so smart Peter was put to shame. It wouldn’t be a bad week either, after he got this girl's number and invited her over to a party. Peter politely sat through the lecture, going over the syllabus with his professor's powerpoint and writing down anything he deemed important.
Then the hour was over and he deserved a treat. He worked hard, so now he can play hard.
Fighting through his looming hangover and using every ounce of charm, he turns his head and smiles at the girl. She had long, slick black hair and he wanted to wrap every bit of it around his fist.
“Hey, I’m Parker.”
She has a nice smile, and a nose ring, he wonders what else is pierced.
“Hey, I’m Rose.”
He’s not sure if it’s a nickname or her real name, it doesn’t matter to him, it suits her well. Peter can see a peek of a tattoo that blossomed from her chest. He wanted to unwrap her like a present and figure her out.
“Nice to meet you, Rose. I just had to let you know I think I have the best seat partner in the whole room.”
“I know, right? Teddy is hella smart.” Her grin tells him she knows what he meant by his comment.
“You seem pretty smart too, maybe we should exchange numbers in case I need any help?”
God, her smile is fucking raident.
“Not sure my girlfriend would like that too much, Parker.”
He exhales a breath, “oh you were waiting to say that.”
Rose nods, “it’s always a fun bomb to drop. Nobody thinks I’m a lesbian until I say it, then I get the-”
“I can see it.”
Her hand raises, “point in case.” She’s still cool. And he has four months with her.
“Let me try again. Hey, Rose, would you and your girlfriend like to come to our party on friday?”
There’s that fucking smile. “We’d love to.”
Peter nods his head, okay with the turn of events. “Alright, Rose, I’ll see you and…”
“Lily,” she fills in for him.
“Lily, how perfect. I’ll see both friday.”
Peter gathers his things and stands, his first try of the year was a swing and a miss, unless…
“Hey, if you were straight would-”
“My girlfriend will kill you, tread carefully, new friend.”
Peter can’t wait to meet her, he already likes her.
—-------------
Peter’s day just got longer or more miserable, because as he should’ve assumed, the bookstore line was wrapped around the building. If only he had given himself a head start, he could’ve done this days ago but there were other things in his personal life he had to wrap up first.
Just so he could sit in line, under the sun, with a hangover, to buy hundreds of dollars worth of textbooks he’d never use again.
Ray Bans rested on his nose, blocking the glare of the sun. He kept refreshing his twitter feed but was quickly bored, switching to instagram and endlessly scrolling. Liking a few pictures, his brother’s party posts, an old classmate’s ‘moving back in!’ post, a summer throwback bikini picture from a girl he’d hooked up with a few times the year prior.
Jostling forward, Peter had to stabilize his stance. Caught off guard and his back ran into, he had to admit it just wasn’t his day.
He scoffs as the assaulter mutters out apologies.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!”
Turning sideways to look at the girl he gave a bitter laugh, “Jesus Christ, freshman. Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.”
The girl in front of him looked pissed, “I said sorry, you don’t have to be so mean.”
Peter pulled his head back and turned to face her full on. “You’re telling me about mean? You knocked into me twice and said you’d hope I fucking choke, if we’re tallying scores I’d think you’re the bully, sweetheart.”
She huffs, “does the misogynistic shtik always work for you?”
He holds his hand to his chest, “misogynistic, because I called you sweetheart? I’d say that’s irony, or sarcasm, because you’ve been anything but sweet.”
“Well… maybe I’d be nicer if you were.”
Peter’s having fun with this, she’s just shittalking him to do it, and he kinda respects that. His hands move as he speaks, emphasizing his point. “You hit me! Why do I have to be nice?”
The girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in defense. “I bumped you, I hope you’re majoring in acting because you could win an oscar for your dramatics.”
His tongue pokes at his cheek, a cocky grin spreads. “Babe, I’m the best at what I do. You think I’d be here and not at Juilliard?”
Peter won, she scoffs and opens her mouth before shutting it and spinning on her heel, turning her back on him.
“Realized you couldn’t win?”
He turns back around, hiding a grin, fumbling for his phone in his back pocket. He opens up the ‘Captain Nu’ group chat and sends out a message.
‘The entitlement from these freshmen gets worse every year.’
‘true dat. this freshie charles just got coffee all over me, i can’t wait to ruin his year.’
‘rip charles. never had a chance.’
‘@trent ally just said her friend is gonna do the ski trip after all.’
‘@paul, Ally’s got a friend? 👀’
‘@parker, lol, yea.’
‘paul is the world's worst wingman, lmaoooo.’
‘Of course he is, he met the girl he’s gonna marry at 16.’
‘@parker maybe u would too if you bothered to know their name after.’
‘@parker if anyone has dibs on ally’s friend it’s me. we’ve already been in talks. 🤔’
‘@trent, yo, tf? We’re gatekeeping now?’
‘@paul, invite her to the party friday. We’ll see who she wants, @trent’
‘🫡’
‘Hold on, Parker’s betting on a chick? I’m getting a lawn chair & a 12 pack rn.’
‘Good thing your name isn’t in the mix, isn’t it? @keznek’
‘ally said she’s coming, my money’s on trent, sorry parker.’
‘Hmmm, I dunno, Paul. Parker’s got that underdog in him.’
‘At least E believes in me.’
Glancing up, and noticing a gap in the line he moves up. Putting his phone back in his pocket he glances over his shoulder and peers at the girl with her gaze locked in on her phone screen. He’s learned several things while at the frat, one of the most important, you can never have too many options.
She’d probably show up anyways, but if she was invited by him to his frat for their freshman welcome party, she’d definitely show up and if Trent wins, he’d have his bases covered. Clearing his throat and turning one eighty, Peter walked backwards to keep up in line, she followed with small steps. Smirking, he stopped quickly, her shoe toe hitting his own.
She looked up quickly, “this one’s on me, sweetheart.”
Her mouth opened, but he talked before she could. Before he could regret inviting her. Worst comes to worse, she’d be a good hate fuck.
“Has anyone shown you frat row yet?”
“I’m not-” she gives a frustrated sigh, “yes, I know where frat row is.”
“Cool, so I’m Parker. I’m in Sigma Nu,” he gestures to the emblem on his corner pocket. “And on the first Friday of the school year we throw a freshman welcome party, you should come.”
Peter can tell she’s trying to figure out his motive, it’s kind of cute, the way she's analyzing him. He immediately throws that idea from his head, he doesn’t find girls cute, he finds them attractive. Cute implies you want them to hang around and she’s nothing but infuriating.
“Uh huh. Sure.” Keeping watch of the line he backs up further, he’s three away from being saved from the sun.
“That’s a personal invite, babe.”
She gasps, it smells of sarcasm. “My goodness, in that case I must show! How else will I know my worth when I watch you make out with another girl across the house?”
That stumbles him a bit, not used to his game being called outright. Even if that was something that might happen, being told it would happen made him feel a little shitty.
“That’s not at all what I-”
Her hand stops him, “you have backup plan written all over your face, I think the summer made you lose some of that frat boy edge.”
He just met this chick, after she threw herself into him twice, and now she’s telling him who he is? God damn, the entitlement is reeking from every orifice.
“You-”
“Line.”
He had to accept the loss and enter the store, but the second he saw her at his party, he’d throw in a few choice words. Remind the freshman who was on top.
He was Peter Parker and he was the treasure and health and safety officer, and this was his fucking year. Hangovers and all.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH.
Peter’s looking at a house across from him, it’s a faded yellow with maroon shutters. A plethora of flowers covered the base foundation, the grass was a little long, definitely a few weeks since the last cut.
It looked like a home.
He could picture a series of generations passing in and out the front door, it was a small house but the love he felt looking at it felt big. Peter felt just as much love for the woman inside the house, stepping over cracks in the concrete he knocked on the door and looked down at his feet while he ran lines through his head.
A growing smile took over when the door cracked open, frizzy gray hair poked through. When Linda caught sight of him the door swung open, her arms went right around him, squeezing him with all her might.
“Peter! Oh my goodness, I thought I wouldn’t see you again! I was going to send you a letter but you beat me to it!” Joy filled his heart, Peter wrapped his arms around her shoulders and laughed. “Mrs. Zoe helped me, I thought she’d call you. Guess not.”
Linda gave him a parting squash before cupping his cheeks, “she knew I’d love the surprise.” She looks behind her, “wanna come in for some tea?” He took her up on the offer, he needed to let her know that he and the school needed her and he was willing to do whatever he could to get her back where she belonged.
A blue oriental rug ran from the front door into the kitchen. Peter dropped his backpack by an entrance table and kicked his shoes off. While he looked around at the family pictures stretched across the walls he felt something rub against his legs, a scratchy meow followed.
Peter looked down at an orange crusty cat, his heart melted. He wasted no time in picking them up and curling them to his chest, “is this Nelly?” Linda turned and smiled at her cat butting her head against Peter’s hand, “yes, she’s an attention grabber. Now you’ve held her, she'll expect it every visit.”
As he followed Linda he looked deeper into the home, his stomach tugged when he looked into a bedroom off from the living room, an old man lying still in a hospital bed, three full IV bags hanging off a medical pole.
The sun was coming through the kitchen window creating a sunspot, a sleeping chihuahua was soaking it up.
“Teeny?” He already knew the answer.
Linda bent down to pet the old dog, she mumbles while Teeny licks at her nose. “Yes, tú eres mi cariño, isn’t that right?” The cat in Peter’s hold pushed at his chest, a guttural meow while she looked at her food bowl.
Setting her down, he looked back up to a young female standing by a cabinet, she seemed vaguely familiar. She looked a little flustered, and brushed down her shirt to prove it could fit better.
“Hi.” Peter took a shot in the dark, “Hey, Kat. Nice braids.”
Her face exploded in a smile, a faint blush crossed her cheeks. “You remember me?”
“Yeah, I think we met my first year, you went…”
“...to work with my grandma after I got in trouble that summer!” She finished for him.
Linda moved around the small area, setting a bright red kettle on the stove.
“You were what, fifteen?” Kat’s face went neutral, “I’m eighteen now, Peter.” Kat crossed her arms, subtly pushing her cleavage up. She’s pretty, but she’s too young for him, she can try to make it happen all she wants but he respects Linda too much.
“Kathrine, go let Teeny out.” It seems like Linda doesn’t want it to happen either.
“But-” Kat flinches when Linda points a wooden spoon at her, “you dare question me in my own home? Desagradecida!” Her granddaughter hangs her head and slowly passes Peter, going out of her way to brush against his shoulder, he lets her have it.
The second the porch door slides shut Linda points the spoon at him, “not gonna happen, frat boy. Comprende?” Peter holds his hands up, “comprendido, comprendido!” A smile forms, crinkles by her eyes shows Peter she’s no real threat.
“Green or herbal?”
Peter glances at a pouty Kat in the backyard, it brings him back to his early teens. It makes him slightly chuckle, she’d be fine, the first rejection always hurts the most.
“Green, please.”
Peter’s been on a roll, spewing everything he thinks she needs to hear about his summer and upcoming school year. She’s nodding along and asking questions when an alarm starts beeping, she jumps from her seat and holds out an arm. “Be right back.” When she tucks herself into the bedroom her husband’s in, Peter feels a little sick.
It’s the elephant in the room when she returns, she sits back in the teal chair across from him and tosses hair behind her shoulder. Linda’s hands wrap around her mug, steam billows when she blows on the rim. She gives him a knowing smirk, “you want to ask about Ronaldo, don’t you?”
Peter feels shy, he does want to make sure she’s okay, but also knows it’s not something to really bring up. “Is he okay?” It’s a dumb question, he has to hold back on wincing when she shakes her head. “No. He’s comfortable for now, and he’s home. That’s all he ever wanted while he was in the hospital.”
He swallows thickly, “is he in hospice?” Linda grabs his hand, “he is. It’s been hard, but we’ve made every decision together. He gave me and our family his best years, I think it’s time I take the brunt.”
She wears a sad smile, but Peter can still see how strong she is underneath. Patting his hand she follows up like she knows where he’s going.
“And I am very thankful I get to spend our last moments together by his side. I know it seems like bad luck, but that damn pot put me where I needed to be.” Peter’s smile is faulty, “so, you can’t be swayed into coming back?”
“No, cariño. I can’t.”
“But it feels so unfair! They should’ve given you something.”
Linda clicks her tongue at him, “trust me, mi amor, I know what unfair is. And what happened was a grace of God. I get to watch my husband peacefully pass, and I get to spend the rest of my life watching my family grow. I can finally go see my great grandchildren in Mexico, my life is anything but unfair. ”
If there’s anyone he wants the best for it’s Linda, and if she sees it as a blessing he could too. He takes a moment, “so, the severance package was good?”
Linda scoffs, “if you call twenty five years pay at once good, then it’s good.”
It was everything Peter needed to hear.
Peter finishes off his tea, “I’m still gonna miss you, Linda. No one can make a breakfast burrito like you. Or cut fruit! You should’ve seen the slices of cantaloupe, not one uniform cut!”
A warm hand is cupped around his cheek, “you come by anytime for a meal. I know you’re local, but if you ever need a mom, a place to lay low, or an open door with no questions asked, you know where I am.”
It brings tears to his eyes, he blinks fast, chuckling when a tear drops. Peter wipes at it with his sleeve, “I’m really, really, gonna miss you.”
“You won’t miss me too much, you’ll be coming by every Wednesday for breakfast. Comprende?”
Peter blows a sharp breath before laughing, “comprendido.”
—--------------------
Spider-Man pats his tummy looking over the skyline.
Linda made him a full cast iron of Huevos Rancheros, and when his eyes widened at the size she laughed and said, “What? You suddenly lost your appetite over the summer?” He had not, and ate the entire thing.
Peter wishes he took up her offer to sleep on the couch while she watches reruns of ‘La Patrona.’ He politely declined, but tortillas and spicy eggs mixing in his stomach made him wish he was taking a nap.
He feels lead in his gut as he swings across the street, too sluggish to fight; he holds out a hand to stop a runaway bike thief. He went flying over the handlebars at an extreme speed, Spider-Man just watched and shrugged.
An eight year old appeared, throwing his arms around Spider-Man and squeezing. Peter lets out a squeak, “alright, Spidey had a little too many eggs for breakfast-” the kid backs away and stares in amazement.
“No way! I had eggs for breakfast too!”
“Look at us, coupla egg eating guys.”
The kid hugs him again, a panicked mother catches up. “Jacob! You can’t run away from me like-” Jacob bounces as he screams, “Mom! Mom! Spider-Man saved my bike! And, and, and guess what! He had eggs for breakfast too!”
Sometimes the pure excitement of who he was made the shitty parts of his job manageable.
“That’s awesome, honey! But you really can’t run away from mom like that.”
Spider-Man crouches to Jacob’s height, and nods at his mom. “You know what I did when I was eight?” Jacob’s eyes grow wide, “no, what?!”
“I listened to my mom. And I ate all my vegetables.”
“Woah.” The child turns to his mom, she gives a knowing look to Spider-Man. “Mom! We have to go get broccoli!” She smiles at her son, “sure thing, buddy.” Holding his bike steady he takes mount, she mouths a thank you and Spider-Man waves her off.
Jacob gives a parting salute, “bye, Spider-Man!”
Peter feels like he’s going to puke when he takes flight, he thinks for a second, then starts heading east.
May doesn’t mind that he stopped by for a mid-morning nap.
—---------------------------
After running through the budget four times, Peter’s positive he’s got the first two weeks handled.
Then, he’d have to rework the entire thing weekly until the final placements were made. And he still has that powerpoint to re-touch, after last year he had quite a few things to add to his health and safety presentation.
Oh, and the chapter handbooks. That only took up an entire afternoon, even with two people working it. And grocery shopping tonight, he might be able to strong arm Ethan into going with him.
Not to mention how he doubled up on physics this year, just because he’s gotten used to self-atonement.
Everything was fine, it wasn’t like he was stressed already.
Peter waited until the last minute, but he burned more time than necessary and finally pushed himself from his desk chair to go to the chapter’s private quarters, a meeting with Trent mandatory.
It’s nothing too personal on Trent, but he just doesn’t like him. There wasn’t a real reason, just a general dislike. He was a bit too frat boy for him, although it makes sense, he’s the president, he’s had to make it his entire personality. But still, his subtle misogyny and hint of alpha male made Peter keep his distance.
Checking for the fifth time, Peter opens the hidden door and slides in.
“Parker!”
“What’s up, Simpson?”
Trent looks up grinning, his eyes clocking the folder in Peter’s hand. “Got my reports?” Peter hands over the folder, Trent opens it immediately and looks it over, nodding impressively at the number.
“Thirty two recruits and you did this magic? I think I’ll keep you around, Parker. Speaking of, where are we on the shopping?”
Peter wants to grit his teeth, when Trent said he was treasurer and everything money related would be run through him, he wasn’t exaggerating. “I have late classes tomorrow, so I’ll go tonight. I’m gonna get together with Tarrent and see what’s on the menu, plan around that.”
Trent nods approvingly, “he’s on strict recruitment duty the next two days, so keep it short. We’ve doubled PNM's.”
Peter keeps a straight face, “yeah, I know.”
Trent picks up a tilt, “got a problem with it, Parker?”
There’s that alpha, the subtle shift of dominance that runs rapidly in a house full of testosterone.
“Not one, Simpson. It’s like you said, it’s open fucking season.” That makes him proud, “you’re damn right, baby. Now go fill up my fridge.”
Peter nods, “I’ll check with Bakner and get Keznek to come with me. Anything else?”
“Yes! I forgot, I’m thinking this year you do the health and safety for everyone. Not just the new recruits. I think some of these newer guys need to be reminded of what this campus and frat really stands for.”
And Peter thinks that’s a really good idea. Maybe Trent wouldn’t be that awful this year.
“Oh, Parker, one more thing?” One more thing, that’s fine, he doesn’t have enough on his plate.
“Yeah?”
“Harvey’s coming back on Friday, make sure he’s got a spot set up in here.”
“I’ll make Hasco do it, he’s the housing officer.” Trent must not like his tone, “I know who Hasco is, Parker. Just do what I fucking say.”
Okay, he might be awful this year.
“Sure, yeah, you got it. Anything else,” your highness? He added in his head.
“Tell Paul I need to meet with him, this Ally shit is annoying. He needs to know what he’s committed to.”
His girlfriend, he’s committed to his girlfriend. And since she’s a human being, she takes priority over a frat house but Trent can’t wrap his thick skull around the idea of it.
“Got it.”
God bless the woman that ever puts up with that.
—--------------------
Three sheets of notebook paper, that’s how long the shopping list was.
Tarrent was prepared and that was appreciated. Instead of having to sit around while he scrambled to prepare something, when Peter knocked on his door and asked about the groceries all he was granted was a grunt and an arm shoving out crumpled printer paper.
Peter and Ethan walked down the cereal aisle side by side, each had a half full cart.
“So, I was thinking about the Salander sisters. You think they’d hate me if I went after both and took the one that chooses me?”
Peter grabs six cereal boxes off the shelf, tossing the stack in his cart, he crosses off another item on the list, He’s only got two and a quarter pages left, next time, he’s bringing the pledges.
“Aren’t they twins?”
Ethan corrects him, “Irish twins, there’s a difference.” His attention drifted to where his best friend’s pointing, “fruit roll ups, twelve of ‘em. Which one are you trying first?” Ethan shakes his head piling cardboard and throwing it in his cart. “As if it’s a question, obviously it’s Sara.”
“I thought you were more into Sam,” cause he swore he was, “oatmeal, four of each flavor.”
Ethan speaks over his shoulder, quaker oats sailing, Peter catching each one. “Until she picked you to kiss during that stupid card game.”
Peter remembers, he apologized to Ethan after too. Ethan wouldn’t hear it, it wasn’t Peter’s fault he was picked, and Ethan made sure he knew it. Sam kissed him, Sam chose him, and he wasn’t owed any real loyalty, they’d only chatted a few times at a few different parties.
Still, that night had left a bad taste in Ethan’s mouth and she shot to the bottom of his list real fast. Peter had never spoken to her before that night, but Ethan had. And she still chose Peter.
‘I wanted to tell her no but then I'm the asshole.’
‘Dude, forget about it. It’s not like you stepped on any toes, if anything, you got a hookup tonight.’
It was tempting, but it was an unspoken agreement that any girl the other one liked, was off limits. So, he never even tried.
“If it helps, she was a bad kisser. It was wet.”
Ethan shudders, “not sloppy?”
Peter doubles down, “wet.”
“Do you think Sara’s the same way? Cause I can’t do sloppy kisses.” Raising a finger, Peter corrects him, making his way to the dairy section. “Wet, Keznek, it was wet.”
“If you think a kiss was wet, what are the chances she also-”
Peter cuts him off, “no, we’re not going there.”
“Boo, no fun, how much milk do we need?”
“A gallon of literally everything.”
“We’re going to be here forever, I have moves to make, Parker.”
A snort, “oh yeah? What’s on the radar for tonight?”
“I don’t know yet, I’m stuck in a grocery store.
Ethan is such a whiner, he’d do anything you asked but was a martyr through and through.
Peter’s got it the worst and he’s not complaining, he could, but it wouldn't do anything. He’s got triple the load Ethan has, all he had to do was sit back and make sure the chapter officers were doing their job.
At least he helps pass the time, and cuts the job in half.
“So, I hit on a lesbian today.”
Ethan almost stops breathing, “no way, where at? You think I could get a copy of the security footage?”
—-----------------
At his current point in time, Peter had no idea what time it was, and he was only sure of three things.
He had late classes tomorrow and could sleep in, Hasco put on the weirdest movie known to man, he still can’t tell if it’s in english, and he was absolutely baked. It was a new level of toasted, his arms were like noodles on his sides, limp and lifeless. Peter swears he can hear his eyelids blink, or it was Tarrent eating sunflower seeds.
Peter’s slump against the back of the couch between Ethan and Tarrent, on Tarrent’s right was Hasco. The first, and only, sign of life from Ethan was him slowly slouching more and more until he was leaning on Peter’s shoulder, he assumes it’s to ground him because he’s allowing it for the same reason.
Hasco’s giggling madly, slapping on his knee while the other three are locked on the screen.
“We are so fucking high, you know how I know?”
Peter looks to Tarrent to answer for the crowd, he supplies a ‘hmph,’ between spitting kernels.
“I just remembered this movie is in portuguese.”
“Oh.” It’s all Peter could get out, somehow, he understands it more than before. Tarrent is impressively loud, “even if it was in ASL shit would suck. This is like The Fast and The Furious meets Twilight.”
“Bro, I know! Isn’t it fucking sick?”
Peter blinks, he can look but can’t see, zoned out in a world of blank space. Ethan wheezes on Peter’s left, even out of his mind he can’t miss a shot at Hasco, “fucking sick.”
In two days it would be the real start of the year, once the first party of the year commenced, they would never stop. It always felt like there were a million people in the house when the year started, it goes from pledges to recruits and back to members. Then you have friends and girlfriends and sororities, every night there would be at least twenty people downstairs drinking.
It was a rare moment for the frat house to be so quiet and everyone was enjoying it, the calm before the storm. Peter thinks he’s enjoying it, but he’s also surfing the ozone layer.
“You guys wanna get pizza?”
Tarrent is a fucking tank, it’s seriously impressive.
“Do you know how much money we spent at the grocery store today? Fuck no, make a sandwich.” Ethan smacks his arm, “make it two, no, three, I want one too.” Peter’s so glad Tarrent’s playing nice tonight, he actually stands and nods at the couch crew, “my boys want a BLT?”
Not that he needs to say it, but it was the best fucking BLT of his life.
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH
It was always a good day when you wake up before your alarm and realize you have a few more hours to sleep. Mornings like that make Peter feel more energized than eating a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans, a habit he has far too often.
At ten thirty he couldn’t sleep anymore, throwing his sheets off him and standing with a yawn, scratching his thigh while his eyes watered. He would take a shower, hit up the dining hall with whoever lingered in the house still, then think about thermodynamics.
His schedule, made while he was in the thick of a concussion from his spidey summer, made him sick. The classes alone made him want to eat a brick, but the days and times he chose fucked him up. His entire week was up and down. Monday he had two classes, Tuesday he had one, Wednesday he had none, Thursday he had one class and for god knows what reason, blocked his lab and lecture back to back on Friday.
At least it was every other week, two Fridays out of the month he had nothing to do, which was pretty nice. With a big stretch and another yawn, Peter walked to his bathroom and started the shower, his boxers flying to the sink.
The hot water felt good, his mind raced about the party the next night, how he’d be up most of the night moving things around, and how he had a lab-lecture combo.
All he knew was that he had some fine opportunities coming up and he’d be dumb to have his bed empty tomorrow night.
—-------------------
Belgian waffles were the only thing on Peter’s mind, the rest of his day could melt into whatever bullshit that needed to happen so he could carry on to another day. But first, he needed waffles.
It was a whole bar, a set up of freshly made waffles and toppings galore. Strawberries, blueberries, bananas, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, maple syrup, sprinkles, butter, chopped pecans, and that was just what was on his.
Peter was double plating, two hands, two plates. Each one had two waffles dressed to the nines, Tarrent following behind with his own.
“Wanna sit with Paul?”
Yuck, he was at his girlfriend's table. Ally was nice and pretty cool, but everything he’s learned about her has been against his will. Sometimes she pulls the girlfriend card a little too much, and it really only annoys him when Paul has to drop everything for her. But, for the past two years he’s known her, he can say that Ally was a perfect fit for Paul.
“Fuck no, that freshman is over there.” She was, when he looked back to confirm, their eyes locked. Peter wasn’t backing down, not after that last interaction. Her eyes focused in on him, he doesn’t know why but his knees felt weak, suddenly he thinks she’s a witch. It wouldn’t be far-fetched, she’s evil, hates men, and makes him feel weird things. Plus, he’s Spider-Man, so they could exist, right?
It was a staring contest, until Ally caught on to her friend looking at something, when she turned her head to look back the girl stopped her. Reaching out and breaking eye contact, she played like she was in a daze, laughing at something Paul said.
It was weird, she was weird. Peter couldn’t choose between staying away and getting closer.
“-Are you even listening to me? God, bro, it’s chill if you like the freshman. You can talk to her, no one will care.” Peter was snapped back to life, “she’s weird and keeps showing up.” Plastic plates click against the table top, the chairs screeching to life. Tarrent flops down, scraping his teeth across his fork when he takes a bite. He’s got a terrible habit of talking while eating, “does she keep showing up or are you just noticing her?”
“I just met the girl, Bakner. I don’t even know her name, how could I notice her?”
“Maybe cause you want to know her name, Parker.”
Tarrent doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Sure, she may have caught his attention a little and sure, he might have invited her to the party with the intention of possibly getting into her pants. But that has nothing to do with wanting to know her name or anything. He doesn’t care about girls like that.
Peter still misses his favorite lunch lady but the waffles were really good this morning.
He pulls a Tarrent and talks while cheeking his bite, “she bumped into me, several times. And was mean about it, why would I want to know her?”
“Maybe she likes you, ever think about that, dingus?”
Well, not really. She doesn’t even know him, how could she like him? The school year just started, unless he’s got a stalker walking around… or a witch.
“Someone taught you the word maybe once and you haven’t stopped using it since.”
A grin full of bacon, “maybe.”
Peter can’t stop himself from asking, “why do you think she likes me?” Tarrent’s fork clatters to his plate, “knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“I knew you liked her.”
“I don’t know her! She’s the one that- we’re talking in circles, Bakner!”
Tarrent pats Peter’s shoulder, which he shakes off and mumbles insults about Tarrent’s IQ level. “You know what, Parker? I think this is the year you get a girlfriend.”
Peter stares his friend in the eye while he chews and swallows, “eat shit, Bakner.”
—---------------------
“Welcome to thermodynamics. This is a fast paced, no frills, no bullshit class. If you cannot handle that, you will be left behind. This is a hands-on class, and I have high standards for everyone in here. If you do not follow my rules, you’ll be excluded and shunned from the rest of us. I’m Dr. Octavius, I’ll be your professor for the next fifteen weeks and it is my honor to teach you the fun in thermodynamics.”
This guy was absolutely not fucking around, he was all business and execution. Or as Peter likes to call these people, too smart for their own good. He earns his respect immediately, he’s the type of teacher that would get under his skin and push him to his extreme limits. Those are his favorite kinds.
“I want each of you to look at the person on your left and right,” the class pauses, but he encourages them to do so. Peter looks at the guys next to him, one looks like a deer in headlights, the other looks more like Peter, excited to be challenged.
For a second he imagines what his reaction would be if he saw the freshman sitting next to him. It wouldn’t be possible, but he imagines how shocked he would be. And the annoyance, god, he’d be so annoyed. But a small, tiny, itty bitty, microscopic part of him would be glad to be entertained.
She’s not even around and he’s annoyed thinking about her.
Why was he thinking about her? Why is she in his mind? Why is he imagining his reaction to her?
She’s a witch. No other explanation.
Peter shakes her from his mind and refocuses.
Dr. Octavius nods at the group, “yes, good, good commit them to memory,” A few people start chatting, and he seems all for it, until his hand raises and everyone silences. “Now, immediately forget them.”
Even if it wasn’t audible, he could hear everyone choke.
“Because, thirty percent of you will not be here by the sixteenth. If you want to drop my class, do it by then, if not, you’ll be charged for the semester and I won’t hear your sob story.”
Ice cold. This is the best professor he’s ever had, he has a few more to meet but no way they would compare. This guy could tell Peter to go lay in a bath of acid because he’s not worth the surface matter he’s wasting to exist and he’d lay down for him.
“I hope everyone here knows what thermodynamics are, if not, you’ve been failed by everyone around you.” He studies the room, reading each face for a moment before smiling. Pressing a button in his hand, the projector turns on, the syllabus on the screen.
“Any questions?”
No one raises their hand.
—-----------------
If Peter was a rich man, and he really wished he was, he'd buy himself a nap today. Not that naps are something you can buy, but if he could pay someone to do his work for him then he could take a nap. Normally, that just means employing a pledge to the task, but he won’t have one for a few days.
The frat pays him, which is pretty nice because it pays him more than he could make in any part time job. It’s hard to become a chapter officer, but when you make it, it’s so worth it. He’s a top dog on campus and in the house, it’s nice having power outside the suit.
But, he couldn’t buy a nap and he had thirty two chapter handbooks to make, hopefully getting to skip out on the set up for the party the next night. He’d have to go out for booze tomorrow, but he was praying he wouldn’t have to shove furniture around.
When Peter walked in the house door he could hear something happening in the kitchen and it wasn’t sounding good. Suddenly, Peter felt wide awake. Hasco was yelling at Booker, who was holding back his anger but the wall was faltering.
Ethan was absolutely useless, holding a bowl of cornflakes to his chest while he watched the brewing flight. He nodded at Peter, then to Hasco spitting insults at a million miles an hour. “Fuckin sick,” the mocking never got old.
Before he intervened he needed to know if he should, something he’s learned as a man and as someone in a frat, sometimes you just need to fight it out.
Peter shook his backpack off and watched them bicker back and forth. It was more like a coked up Hasco on a tangent and a way too calm exterior but built with inner rage Booker listening and tightening his fist with each insult. Booker played hockey, he was an athlete on and off the field, meaning, he took all he could before exploding.
“What’s happening?” Ethan’s in no rush to respond, drinking milk from the bowl.
“Something that needs to happen.”
Hasco’s about to get the absolute shit beat out of him, “he’s been screaming for five minutes, I think Booker’s gonna knock him out.”
That’s fine with him but his blender’s right there.
“Booker, don’t get his blood on my blender please.” It stops Hasco, but seals his fate.
“Who-” raging bloodshot eyes on him, “who the fuck’s gonna get blood on the blender? Me? You think this fuckin guy can put his hands on me? You think he can fight me? You think any of you motherfuckers can take me down?”
Hasco slaps the side of his face, “fuckin do it, pussy. I know you won’t, you’re a bitch just like your mom-”
Peter and Ethan pull their head back in a hiss, the collison sounded like a crack. It was enough to send Hasco’s head spinning before he dropped, he was real silent real fast.
Booker stood over him and pulled him up by his shirt, a raised hand in the air. “Don’t fucking talk about my mom, you don’t know shit about her and what she’s done for me.”
Ethan points his spoon towards him, defending his point. “Facts, the mom card was too far, Hasco.”
“I should beat your ass, but Parker said no blood on his blender.”
“Thank you!”
“Thank your white friend and apologize on my moms behalf,” when Hasco stays silent Booker lifts his hand a little, Peter moves around to see him wince in fear. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, I was just heated man, you know how it is, it’s all crazy this time of year, cause all these new guys come in and my mind is all scrambled-”
Ethan’s spoon points again, “that’s the coke.”
“Hey! Fuck you man! If you wanna fucking go then we can go, motherfucker.”
“You’re being held down by another man talking about beating my ass.”
“Fuck all you! The only real one here is Parker, he’s a real friend, he has my back, he’s the only one here protecting me.”
“I was protecting my blender,” Ethan shoves his elbow into his and mumbles, “health and safety officer,” he corrects himself, “and you, Hasco. It’s my job to protect everyone in the house. Do we need to settle this with a gulag or can it end here?”
Booker’s over it, and Hasco needs a bump.
“Let me up and we can hug it out,” and they do. Awkwardly slapping at each other’s back, Hasco giving him a “we all good brotha,” causing Peter and Ethan to wince again.
“Don’t ever fucking say that to me.”
“Parker! He’s still threat-”
“Anything Booker deems racist is gonna get your ass beat, that’s a rule we signed in.” Ethan nods, “can confirm, I was there as witness.”
“Simpson agreed? Of course he did, Polish motherfucker.”
Ethan lost it, his shoulders shaking with his laugh. Hasco had something to say about everyone, last year after they butted heads, Hasco called him ‘plant fucker’ for six weeks and it never got old. Ethan laughing made Peter smirk, but he had to kill it before Hasco could catch him.
“You know I love you, man! No more disrespect on your mom, you slapped the shit outta me. I feel like a bitch, I would’ve rather you punched me.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.”
Hasco made a motion of his mind exploding, “wild man, you’re a wild man.” He jumps at the idea of something and looks around the kitchen rubbing his nose, “hey, uh, we all good here guys? I got some shit to do in my room.”
Eyes are on Peter, he’s the one that makes the call. He assumes everything’s fine, Booker looks bored and Hasco’s running his tongue over his gums, eyes twitching to the staircase.
“Cleared.”
Hasco nods, “fuckin sick,” and slithers between Peter and Ethan, slowly walking to the staircase before running up them. Peter’s stating the obvious, but it needs to be said.
“Oh, he needs a fucking rehab.”
Booker shrugs, “I dunno, dude. I slapped him sober.”
Ethan cleans his bowl in the sink, “slapped him into next week, that shit ricocheted off the cabinets.” Booker eyed Peter as he said, “I mean, he deserved it?” Peter raised his hands up, “I said it was cleared, you don’t have to explain or excuse shit.”
He snapped his fingers and pointed at him, “Parker, you’re my fuckin guy. I gotta get to practice, but you’re my fuckin guy.” Peter waved him off, “you protected my blender, bro. Tarrent loves that thing.”
Booker jogged away pointing at him, “my guy! Still my guy!”
Ethan raised his eyebrows at Peter when they were left alone, “you’re gonna love me.”
“What’d you do?”
Ethan shrugs, “made use of my day off and printed those handbooks.” Peter feels like he could cry, his best friend really was one, he took one for the team and dedicated himself to hours in the library to do the brunt of the work.
“God,” A finger stops him, “not done, I also got the folders and brackets from the supply store. All we need to do is staple, stamp and book em’.”
“You’re the best person to ever exist and I don’t say it enough.”
“Wanna sit on my balcony and smoke a backwood while we do it?” He can’t imagine a better scenario.
Then wonders if the freshman smoked, and finds himself aggravated at the thought. Why was he still thinking about her?
She’s a witch, she has to be. He pushes her away, and focuses on his friend.
“I’ll cry right now, Keznek.”
—-------------------
It was nice outside, Peter was comfortable in a hoodie and sweatpants, and so was Ethan. They slowly talked while they worked back and forth. Peter would staple the pages, Ethan would bracket them into the booklets, then Peter would stamp them.
"You remember those info sheets Trent's 'new friend' got him?"
"Yeah, do you know who it is?"
Ethan hisses when he pinches his finger, “nah, I did find out it's a chick though." Even though they’re alone Ethan leans in and talks low, “and apparently it’s top, top secret. Like, no one can find out, ever. She has something on him.” Those pages are held too tightly to their chests, every fraternity in competition with each other no one dares share or spill.
“How’d you find out?”
“Simpson left his computer open, he had it on his notes app.” Peter blows a harsh breath, “how do you think she got it?”
“No idea, but that shit comes at a price. She wants something, and it’s gonna be something Trent can control.”
There’s a lot he can control, everyone can think they’re the most manly in the house, but Trent owned the title. Peter doesn’t know why, but it makes him itch to find out. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but he has a weird tug that demands to be discovered.
It was that same tug he felt when that witch looked at him today, and why is he thinking about her? Why is he still thinking about her, he doesn’t even know her name, and she’s mean. Was Tarrent right, was he just noticing her instead of her showing up? Has he been looking out for her? And why in the hell is he still thinking about her?
He’s right, he has to be. She’s a fucking witch.
Peter snaps out of it and stamps three books. “What if she’s just bullshitting? Is there any way to prove it’s real?”
“She’s not and she has. She hacked their computers.”
It’s blackmail, she needs something over the frat. It’s his job to protect the frat, from the personnel to the building. His guess is money, but the why is lost on him. If it’s frat money he’d find out, Trent would have to run it through him, and if not, he’d find it the next time he went through the books.
“That’s so weird, and speaking of weird, you remember that chick that bumped into me?”
Why was he talking about her? Why was he still thinking about her? It just came out, he didn’t even have anything to say. She’s a fucking witch.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know, nevermind.”
Ethan shrugs, “alright. Wanna guess what Tarrent’s doing for hazing?” Peter reloads the stapler, it’s automatic and he feels like a king. “You know it’s my job to prevent hazing, right?”
“No, it’s your job to prevent poor or dangerous hazing, and guess who makes that call?”
“Are you saying the definition of poor and dangerous hazing is at my discretion?”
Ethan teeter totters, “technically mine too, I have to make sure you’re doing your job.” Peter fills in the blank, “by letting hazing happen?”
“Alright, look. It’s a right of passage, you did it, I did it, everyone in that house and the other fifteen did it. Generations of fraternities have done it dating back to three hundred and eighty seven B.C. Everyone does it, that’s all I'm saying.”
Ethan looks up at him from the gold brackets he’s thumbing flat on the book, “I know you have…” he tries to find the right words, “higher morals than most of us, and I know you’ll know when to shut it down.”
“I never said I wanted to stop it, I just meant we’re not gonna be the frat that kills a kid.”
“Jesus, of course we aren’t, I just didn’t want you killing the vibe.”
Peter scoffs, “oh, well that’s just insulting.” He can see the end of the tunnel, only eighteen books left. “So, tell me what he’s doing. Please say it’s something better than the drunk soccer match.”
Ethan cackles, “fuck you, that’s gold. It’s happening for sure.”
Peter can think of one better, “imagine a drunk obstacle course, like, one of those bounce house ones? But we can make it all manly, so they think it’s something easy but on the other side it’s like a fucking bootcamp.”
“Railing sixteen beers and rope climbing a six foot wall,” the idea made him laugh just as hard as the soccer match. “That’s so sick, you’re sick for that.”
Peter stamps three more and finishes for him, “so obviously we’re gonna do it, right?” Ethan nods, “absolutely we are.”
It falls silent, both of them working together but enjoying the quiet. Peter likes that most about Ethan, since day one he’s felt comfortable around him. He can be himself around him and it’s never once been awkward, they just agree on everything.
It’s weird, sometimes it feels like Ethan doesn’t care about him but that also makes him a better friend to Peter. He acts like he’s less involved than he is, like he knows that Peter pushes people away when they get too close. The only person closer to Peter than Ethan is his aunt.
But Ethan pretends he doesn’t know that, and it makes their bond stronger. Ethan’s opinion means the world to him, anything he says is taken with a mountain of salt. And no judgment, never, ever judgment. It takes a lot for him to say it, but he’d trust him with his life.
When they’re down to the last ten Peter clears his throat, “have you gotten anywhere with the Salander sisters?” Ethan shrugs, “I’ve been feeling this girl in my bio class, she’s pretty cool. I invited her to the party, she seemed into me, I think.”
“Woah, the Ethan Keznek catching feelings?”
“Easy, I had two classes with her. She seems like she’d be fun to hang with, I’m not trying to date her.”
Peter spits it out before he can stop it, “Tarrent thinks freshman and I will end up together.”
Why the fuck does he keep thinking about her?
She’s a fucking witch, she has to be.
“The entitled one?” Ethan knows he can’t get his mind off her, he brought her up twice. And each time he looked like he regretted it, but he doesn’t care enough to push it.
“Yeah. But he’s kinda dumb, right?” Peter doesn’t even know her, he hates how she’s been popping up in his mind throughout the day.
“He could be, or he may be a clairvoyant genius that sees the future. Personally, I vote for the latter.”
Proof he’s a best friend, giving Peter an out through a joke.
“He’s majoring in physical therapy but he should be a conspiracy theorist.”
Final five, Peter’s ready for dinner. “Wanna hit up the dining hall after this?”
“God yes, I need lo-mein noodles so bad right now.”
—------------
The table was rowdy, everyone yelling over each other. If women thought men interrupting them was bad, they should see five men hanging out together.
“Remember when Booker slapped me?”
Paul dropped his fork, “no, what, when?”
Tarrent’s holding the edge of his plate to his mouth as he shovels rice in. “That’s hilarious.”
Ethan sighs dreamily, “yeah, it was awesome.”
“Yes, Hasco. It happened like, three hours ago.”
“Ah, fuck! I always miss the best shit, this is about to be Ally’s problem.”
“I was stretching a cheerleader's hamstrings, I didn’t miss out on anything.”
Ethan drops his fork to point at Tarrent, making sure Peter was paying attention. “He’s bragging, make him stop.”
“Bakner, stop bragging, some of us are more lonely than others.” His words focused more on Paul, the guy that’s been with the same girl for six years. Like, everyone feels so bad he’s missing out on fights because he’s too busy being in love.
It’s actually disgusting to Peter.
“Don’t blame me, you guys are the ones against church girls.”
Hasco sneers, “cause they try to convert us, I refuse to willingly be beneath another man.”
Ethan loves riling him up, “hey, you never know, God may be a woman.” Hasco gives him a pathetic look, “c’mon man, not even you believe that.” Ethan nods his head like he’s got a point, Paul looks like he’s sick.
“That is our lord you’re talking about, he died for us.” Paul’s a devoted christian… only when he felt the need to be.
Peter taps his chin, “isn’t premarital sex one of the things he died for?”
“What my girlfriend and I do behind closed doors is not the lord's business. Or yours.”
The table ooed, Peter nods impressively, Ally’s given him a backbone. He pushes away from the table, he’s stuffed and needs to put his plates away. He also needs to piss.
No one notices his descent, Peter looks over the dining hall, it’s always empty for dinner. Breakfast and lunch seemed impossible with seating, but for whatever reason dinner was always empty.
Dropping his plates in a bin he politely nodded at a group of ladies before turning back for the bathroom, mumbling a song under his breath that was stuck in his head. “... Another bottle in the brain. Another girl, another fight,” Peter hit the door open with his shoulder, finishing his mumbling. “Another drive all night.”
Peter had that weird feeling again, the one he felt when he saw that freshman. And fuck, he’s thinking about her again.
She’s a witch, a real fucking witch.
Peter moved his shoulders while he washed his hands, the song replaying over and over. Swinging the door open with this foot, he mumbled to himself again. “.. another bottle in the brain,”
A voice speaks up, “another girl, another fight.” He jumps, his eyes fall to the left, perched at a high top was the witch. Her mouth wrapped around a spoon, a cup of fro-yo in her hand. Tarrent was wrong, he wasn’t noticing her. She kept showing up.
“Hey,” he doesn’t like how winded he sounded. Who the fuck was she?
“Hello, Peter.”
His heart stopped, no one calls him Peter, no one. Since day one it’s been Parker, when he was recruited he was only addressed as Parker and it stuck. It’s weird she knew what his first name was, his suspicions are adding up.
He wants to ask how she knew his name, but it’s cliche, and he really doesn’t care. If he guessed, it was probably Ally. It’s still a bold choice that she used it, it definitely separated her from the crowd.
“And you are…” Waiting for her to fill in the blanks, if he could find out her name he can banish all traces of her in his mind, like a demon.
A smirk wrapped around her plastic spoon, it scraped against her teeth as she removed it.
“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” She thinks she’s clever, she’s not.
“I’m sure you planned it, considering how you keep showing up around me.” That seems to tick her off, “no, you keep showing up where I already am.”
“Now you’re just lying.”
She raised three fingers, “scouts honor.” Peter looks around, “where are your friends?”
Why is he still talking to her? She must have him under her spell.
The witch hums, “can’t a girl get fro-yo alone?”
“It’s a free country, babe. Do you, girl power, smash the patriarchy, all that stuff.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly misogynistic?”
Peter looks up at his brothers, it still seems like his absence hasn’t been noticed. Her eye contact is insane, it makes his knees weak like this morning. It’s gross, her powers have taken over his cerebrum.
“Just one, I think she doesn’t know what misogyny is.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, “you’re mansplaining now?” Peter’s eyes look at her mouth when she takes another spoonful. “Has anyone ever told you you’re slightly difficult?” It’s like his words egg her on, “just one, I don’t think he knows what difficult is yet.”
“Yet? For a person with no name you’re bold.” Normally flirting doesn’t feel like this, he feels like he has to keep up with her. Peter hates that it feels like she always has the upper hand.
She makes him feel like he could go all night.
The witch proves she’s difficult, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” She jumps out of her seat, for the fourth time she’s left him thinking about her.
“Have a goodnight, Peter.”
“Yeah, you too.” He’s weary and doesn’t trust her.
Her back turned on him as she walked away, his eyes dropped to her ass and tilted his head impressively. He can’t deny a nice sight.
Too bad she’s a witch.
When he makes it back to the table it’s unnoticed, except for Tarrent, he gives Peter the smallest hint of a smile.
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH
It was the day he’s been preparing for all week. The official start of the year, he wouldn’t be able to get too loose tonight, he’d be too busy kicking out anyone puking, fighting or excessively crying.
He also had a lecture and a lab today. He hates himself. If he plans it right, he’d have time to take a nap, not that he would, but the idea of one made him feel better. Speaking of naps, he still needs to set up a bed for Harvey in the chapter room.
Rolling over, Peter picked up his phone and went straight for twitter. It was his morning news, scrolling for a little until a headline caught his eye.
‘Spider-Menace’s scheduled slump.’ He clicks the link, it opens and he rolls his eyes, he should’ve expected it.
‘Spider-Menace is no longer patrolling the streets nightly, don’t worry criminals, you won’t be out of a job anymore. To the real heroes of the city, the citizens, we bid ado to the masked vigilante. For the second year, Spider-Menace picked up activity during the summer months, and has plans to become a rare sight during the months that follow.
It’s unsure what our ‘friendly’ city destroyer is up to, but we do know the ones trained for their job, the NYPD, are prepared for any threat. For more on Spider-Menace, download our app to be the first to know exclusive news updates.’
Just like usual, the Daily Bugle was dumb as shit.
Peter Parker had shit to do, a life to build. Spider-Man didn’t pay the bills, Peter did. It doesn’t mean choosing himself over a daunting responsibility was easy, the first year he stressed himself so thin he lost his abilities.
No strength, no healing, no heightened listening. He needed glasses for the first time in years, and for a second he swore his asthma came back.
Needless to say, it freaked him the fuck out. He’s always viewed Spider-Man as a thing he had to do, the great responsibility his uncle Ben reminded him of. And when he lost it, he realized how much he wrapped himself into his alter ego.
When Peter lost Spider-Man, he lost himself. And he swore if he got his powers back, he’d build a life for Peter outside them.
And he did. He has been. And no matter what his uncle told him, he knows he’d be damn proud of him for doing it.
Peter pulls at the chain around his neck and looks at the ring on it, it was Ben’s wedding ring. May gave it to him when he turned eighteen, she said he had a dream and needed him to have it. He’s worn it every day since then.
Bored of twitter he makes the switch to instagram, opening his messages and responding to the videos he’s been sent. For whatever reason he thinks about the witch, he wonders if he could find her from Ally’s page. He probably could, but it feels like cheating.
Starting his day the same way, he walks to his bathroom yawning and pulling his boxers off. Starting the shower and wasting the time waiting for it to heat up by brushing his teeth, tugging at the front of his hair with a grunt.
He needs a haircut.
He should get one before the party.
He also needs to buy booze.
And two fucking classes, that fucking guy really was a Spider-Menace.
‘Half lab, Peter. Half lecture.’ He thanks his own mind for the gentle reminder. The shower feels nice, it always does. On his bad days, the days where everything is too much it’s his safe place. He could stay in the shower for hours, the rushing water calms him, even when it turns ice cold.
They don’t happen often, but it’s debilitating when they do. He spends his day hiding, on one really bad day he was curled up on the floor of the shower with his hands pressing into his ears as hard as they could, trying his best to block everything out and it wasn’t working, nothing was working. He remembers sobbing, praying to any God that would listen to help him. No one heard him.
But that was last year. He had an episode over the summer, and as much as she didn’t want to leave him alone, he begged May to leave. Her walking around, or even sitting on the couch was too much. He could hear the fabric move underneath her, he could even hear her breathe.
It took hours, but when he was defeated and went from hearing the city to a low, constant ring he was ready to sleep. He’d be okay in the morning, sometimes that’s the only thing that gets him through it. He called May and apologized, and told her she could come back to her own home. She laughed at him and said ‘it’s your home too,’ and that made him feel better than a shower ever could.
But today wasn’t one of those days. Today, he was making it a good day.
—--------------
Peter’s good day took a small dip when he had to skip breakfast. And by skipping breakfast, he means all he had was a fat spoonful of peanut butter and an apple to go. He forgot to refill his water before leaving and nearly choked to death on the glue in his mouth.
Every dog in the world had gained his sympathy.
But, today was a good day. Especially when he was seated next to a smoking hot chick, he wasted no time in casually looking her over, committing details to think of rather than stare. A black skater skirt exposed a tattoo of Medusa that took up her entire thigh, a white shirt with a Vans logo in the center, it was obvious she cut the sleeves herself.
She was wearing a black bralette underneath, she was flat chested and he didn’t mind one bit. They suited her, she seemed too cool for him. She looked like she would ruin his life and he’d love every minute of it.
He wasn’t wasting any time, “first time here?”
The girl winced, he did too the second he said it.
“That’s your opening line, really? Are you proud of that?”
Peter shook his head, “I regretted it the second I said it. Usually I’m way cooler, but pretty girls make me nervous.”
The girl smiles, she has teeth to envy. “Smooth, did you plan that whole thing?” He didn’t, but if she believes it he’s not one to ruin dreams.
“Maybe things are working out in my favor, like sitting next to you.”
There’s a gleam in her eye, “you’re a flirter, and that makes you dangerous.” Peter might be laying it on thick here, but she may like it. “Hm, do you like danger?” Her eyebrow quirks, “do you?”
Oh, he wants her.
Peter extends his hand out, “Parker, nice to meet you.” The girl shakes his hand, it’s ultra soft. “Nice to meet you, Parker.”
What the fuck is up with girls not sharing their names? What’s he supposed to do, call them babydoll?
“Any plans tonight?”
“Your party, what else would I be doing?”
Peter’s celebrating on the inside, she’s just been booted to the top of the list.
“Glad to hear it, if you’re okay with it I’d love to play a game of pong with you.”
The girl holds a hand to her chest, jewelry covering her fingers and wrist.
“I’d be okay with it, not sure my girlfriend would be.”
Peter’s entire world collapses, he meets the girl of his dreams and he’s the furthest thing away from her type. She seems overjoyed to share the news, the defeat on his face is the highlight of her day. When he takes a good look at her he’s reminded of someone else.
“Is your name…” They say at the same time, “Lily?”
“I was waiting on that one, handsome. Rose told me all about you, I had to get two for oh.”
He has to take that one on the chin, “you live up to the hype, Lily.” She’s happy with his words, “same to you, Parker.”
Peter plays it cool when the lecture starts, he’s trying to make it a good day. But all he can think about are the witches' words. Maybe he really has lost his frat boy edge, so far his only prospects have been two lesbians and a freshman.
And just like that he has a burnt taste in his mouth, because he somehow rounded his thoughts back to her.
She’s fucking evil, and she’s a witch.
—--------------
Peter’s standing at the edge of the kitchen looking over the liquor on the counter. It’s an impressive haul, he doesn’t think they have enough coolers and fridges for all the beer. The island would be spread out with all the bottles, mixers, cups, and as tradition calls, jungle juice.
Tarrent is running around like a mad man, screaming at everyone but Peter to ‘fucking do something!’ Hasco’s preparing in his room and no doubt Trent’s joined him. Paul’s coming late due to Ally, no one’s shocked. Leaving Booker and Nick to follow every command from Tarrent.
Peter should help out, and he will later, but he’s got to take a shower. He got the haircut he needed and he can feel little hairs poking into his neck, plus, he’s not sure what the night could bring.
“Give me ten minutes to shower and I’ll help you guys, where’s E?” Booker shrugs, Nick’s sweating like a whore in church and Tarrent pauses to point and laugh.
“Ha! Parker’s about to go wash his balls.”
Peter squints at him, “yeah, girls tend to like that.”
“Yeah- sure, whatever you say, buddy.” Nick looks between everyone’s face while he slowly asks, like everyone is scared of the answer.
“Do you… Do you not wash your balls?”
“Showering is a scam made up by Dove soap. People say you only need to shower like, once a week.”
Peter shakes his head, “no, that’s not… Tarrent you work out all the time, I can’t believe I need to tell you, but you gotta wash your sack. In general and especially before you hook up, imagine a cheerleader after four days of practice and no shower asking you to munch down on her.”
Tarrent is a different breed, “that’s the difference between us, Parker. I enjoy the musk.”
Peter gags, Booker says, “man, that’s nasty.” Nick’s actually gagging, he’s got the weakest stomach to exist.
“That’s what separates you boys from us men.”
Nick whines through another gag, “I don’t wanna be a man, Parker, don’t let him make me a man.”
—-------------
Peter’s quiet as he gets ready.
His frat shirt looks good, he’s not one to fawn over his body, but he can’t help but nod impressively at his build. His shirts tighter this year, evidence of hard work. His haircut is nice, it’s a little shorter than he normally goes but he’s not sure when he’d get time to go again, so he wanted some wiggle room.
Even if it was bad no one would see it, at this point he feels naked without his snapback. Peter tucked his necklace into his shirt, he hates when girls ask him about it. He understands they need an ice breaker but it’s the worst one to bring up.
Brushing down his jeans and making sure his Nike’s were clean, he was ready for the night to start. He doesn’t know how he did it, but Tarrent had set up the entire kitchen by himself, snapping his fingers at Peter the second he saw him, requesting help for moving the couch.
Peter’s hands gripped at the edge of the couch, nodding at Tarrent, “ready?” They lift it in one go, moving to set it against the wall, then do the same to the other one, and the chairs. All that was left was a giant open space, couches and chairs were free game, but it made more space for more bodies.
“Make sure the keg fridge is working, I’m gonna go wash my balls.”
At least he took the advice.
Peter heads to the garage with a plastic cup and pulls at the keg tap, it takes a second and foam rushes out, then ice cold miller light. It was a small gimmick Peter made when he was pledging and he swears to this day that’s what got him sworn in.
He bought an old fridge off a grad student and emptied it out, threw a keg in and sawed a hole in the front to feed a tube and the tap. It was genius, everyone loved it. Peter chugs the beer and tosses the foam, they’ve got an hour until people start showing.
Peter wonders when the witch will show up, will he be able to feel her presence before he sees her? It’d be a nice warning but he doesn’t have the best control at gaging people he doesn’t know that well yet.
He needs to stop thinking about her, and fuck, he needs to make that bed for Harvey before Trent snaps his neck. Racing around for sheets and pillows, Peter opens the chapter door and sets up the pull out couch, he’s not a homemaker by any means but he’d be fine to sleep here.
“Oh good, I was making sure you were doing your job.”
Peter jumps, turning to look back at Trent. “I mean, not really my job, but sure.”
“You’re testy this year, don’t challenge me in front of Harvey, I need his respect.” Wow, the first time Trent ever admitted he needed something. Even if Peter doesn’t like him, he can respect his dedication to proving he could truly run the frat.
“Sir, yes, sir.” Peter salutes to his president, it makes him break his rough exterior, he’s nervous.
“That’s more like it, Parker.”
—----------------
“I think Harvey’s here.”
Peter moved to stand next to Ethan on his balcony, looking down at a Mercedes pulling into the driveway. “Yeah, that’s him.” His best friend scoffs, “isn’t it shit how the richest kids don’t appreciate what they have the most?”
“The fuck are you talking about, Kez? Don’t you have CFO daddy money?”
Ethan’s sharp, “don’t you have dead parents money?”
It went silent, both shocked he said it. Until they start laughing, if anyone else had said it, it would be in poor taste. When Ethan says it, he’s laughing with Peter, it’s like he shares the massive trauma with him.
“And dead uncle, check cleared the second after I turned twenty one.”
“That life insurance pays out, doesn’t it?”
Peter nods, breaking from the joke for a second. At the time when Ben had created it and fed into it, it was rare to have such a good plan.
“Oh yeah, he had awesome fucking benefits. My aunt still gets pension checks, he’s been dead for eight years.”
“No shit? That’s pretty fucking sick.”
“And not that they had any obligation to, but his company paid for the entire funeral.”
Peter doesn’t open up much, but it’s casual with Ethan. Even so, he doesn’t like showing his cards, it was minor, but he’s said more than enough.
“Hey! You, um…” Peter trails off when he relights the joint, the flame expanding before shrinking back down. His voice goes deep when he talks through an exhale, “got any plans with bio chick?”
“Nah, I’m just gonna play it cool. We have the semester together, too much too fast and it’s a dumpster fire.”
True fucking that. Obsessed Olivia ruined the first half of his second year, after that, he swore he wouldn’t hook up with a classmate before a two week period. (Unless he counts the lesbians, and he does not, because it’s not happening.)
“That’s so real, you’re so real for that.”
“I’ve been enlightened, I went to a sweat lodge retreat this summer and my third eye has been opened.”
Peter feels sick, “that’s the most rich kid shit I’ve ever heard.” Ethan smacks his arm, “I know how busy you are in the summer, otherwise I would’ve invited you.” Sometimes he feels like Ethan gives him a wink, wink, nudge, nudge look, but he’s also slightly paranoid and Ethan’s usually high.
“Oh. Damn. So sad I missed that.” It was monotone, and Ethan waves him off. “Sure, make fun of me now, but next year you’re coming and you’ll love it.”
“No, I need water. I’ll die.”
“I mean, you get water, dude. They just suck all of it out of you first and push you to the brink of death and delusion until you give into your ego and admit defeat because you’d do anything for a drop of water.”
Peter stares at him in horror.
“It’s awesome, dude.”
The boys turn their heads at a footstep on the deck, Harvey Gyun in his Burberry glory. He pushes aviators up to his hair, arms open wide in greeting, like he was about to tackle them.
“What’s up, you short dicks?”
Harvey’s a cool guy. It’s pretty surface level with him, he’s a rich asshole, only because he doesn’t know any better. But he still treats you well.
Peter could put up with him snapping at a waitress if it meant he was getting a free two hundred dollar meal, and he has. Several times.
Peter shouts out, “the king is back!” Harvey nods to the clapping, “that he is, that he is. How about you princesses bow for me?”
He's an alum. You do what they say, kidding or not.
The chapter officers bow at his request, Harvey giggles and rubs his hands together. “I forgot I have that power now, I’m gonna fuck with Simpson so hard. Be honest, how freaked out was he about me coming?”
As much as he didn’t like Trent he promised him he’d make him look good.
“Not bad, he was actually pretty chill.” Ethan doesn’t need to understand the bluff to back it, it’s his job as best friend.
“More excited to show you he’s ready for this, you did good at preparing him last year.”
Harvey can smell bullshit a mile away, but knowing the officers were dedicated to their president speaks volumes. The frat will be just fine without him.
“Good backing, boys. Daddy taught you well. Finish that,” he points at the joint, “and meet me downstairs. We need a toast before the year starts.”
Harvey Gyun has a kind of energy Peter’s never seen before. “Yes, sir.” Harvey kisses his teeth, rubbing at his lawline, Peter clocks his watch. It’s sixty grand.
“Such good boys.”
When the coast is clear, Ethan turns to Peter with a bit lip and a whimper. “I hate how much I loved that.” It’s not Peter’s preferred voice, but he can’t pretend he doesn’t know what he means.
“Yeah, good boy makes a man feral.” Peter passes the joint Ethan’s way, “kill it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
—--------------------
Peter looks around the room at his small group of brothers. When everyone else joined in, it’d be a blended family. But no one could ever be as close as these six guys, they’ve been through it all together.
He’s proud of himself and everybody in the room.
Three years. They’ve made it three years and as dumb as he’s always thought it was, even with all their minor grievances, he’s made friends for life. Even if they fall out of touch for a few years, he'll be at the wedding and the funeral.
“I won’t lie, it feels weird not hosting freshman Friday this year. But you fuckers have made it three years in and I couldn’t be prouder in my choice of men to recruit. Tonight, we party, we mistake, we regret and we have fun. And- I think Simpson’s the best president you could have.”
Trent visibly relaxes, everything he’s been praying for came to fruition. Harvey must have known he wouldn’t be able to do any of those things if he was paranoid of being watched all night. Harvey raised his shot glass and everyone did the same, taking a second to clap Trent’s shoulder before addressing the group.
The group chanted as one, “Sig Nu!”
Shot glasses double tapped on the counter, tequila was a bold choice. It was just the thing he needed for the night to start. Ethan’s eyes on the clock, he nudges Tarrent.
“Booker, Nick, collectors fee.”
They leave to stand guard outside the door, nodding at a forming line. Trent leaves with Harvey, Tarrent goes to set up the music that Hasco will take over once he’s done getting a fix. Ethan’s yelling at Hasco through the bathroom door about ‘not getting too coked up’ and Hasco biting back with a ‘fuck you!’
Peter shakes his shoulders and takes a step, Tarrent stops him with a hand on his chest. His voice lowered, looking around so no one would hear.
“Talk to the freshman. I mean it, Parker.”
It always circles back to her.
Witch, witch, witch, witch.
“You’re delusional.”
“Maybe I am, or maybe you trust me and talk to the girl.”
Peter wants to correct him, inform him she’s a witch because he can’t get her out of his mind. But the real reason she was a witch was because she made Peter want to talk to her more.
And that’s not who he is.
So, she has to be a witch.
Right?
YOUR FIRST WEEK.
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6TH
It may have been the first day of the year, but the cafeteria was buzzing.
Breakfast in the food hall didn’t feel this busy on a normal school week. It seemed like everyone was sitting with their friends sharing a breakfast burrito or an orange, catching up from summer break. You were entertaining your friend group talking about a summer vacation and part time job you took up to save up spending cash for the school year.
(And leaving out the real source of cash- it’s cheating and you have to hide your eyes from Noa.)
Five people were at your table.
Ally Storm, dating Matt Paul of Sig Nu, second and third year roommate.
Sarah Adams, nursing student and never around.
Prince Otto, three years in and major undeclared.
Natalie Fieldman, roommate your freshman year, art major.
And Noa Carter, computer science superfreak.
The group talked over each other, then quieted down when nine hit. Everyone except you, Ally and Prince went to class. Leaning in when she spoke, you and Prince strained to hear, unaware she’d be spilling secrets.
“All that talk about this summer and you don’t even bring up Harvey?”
Harvey was the best well kept secret you had, he graduated last year and was an official alumni of Sigma Nu. You’d kept hooking up all summer, before parting ways when you moved back for college, keeping the door open so when he visited there was always an option.
“Woah, woah, woah. Harvey Gyun? I need when, where, why and what, right now.”
Holding up a hand you raise a finger at each point, “like three weeks before he graduated, my dorm or his room at a party, to have fun with zero commitment, and Ally would’ve never known if Matt didn’t see me sneaking out of his room at like, five am.”
Prince sucked his teeth, “he’s a prick, he said he was only sleeping with me.”
“Oh, what the fuck.”
Prince was seeing him too? Ally slammed her hand over her mouth, it’s how you felt.
“Double dipping bitch.”
You shrug, “you gotta respect a man’s hustle sometimes, Prince.”
Ally reached a hand out on the table, silently demanding attention. “You know who’s hustling will earn my respect?” A hand patted your shoulder, “our friend here, and it’s currently recruiting season at the frat house, thirty two new boys introduced.”
Your eyes bug out, “thirty two, what the fuck? How are they keeping count this year?” You could be an actress if you tried.
“Apparently, twelve will be cut by the second week. Then hazing starts, so we’ll scope it out next week and make our bets.”
“Prince, please pick a winner this year.”
Green hair swayed when he shook his head, arms crossed. “Nope, I got a thing for the underdog.”
Ally grinned up at her boyfriend when he took a seat next to her, three breakfast burritos on a plate. Your eyes flashed up for the rest of the frat, scanning the food lines you counted heads. Aaron, Keznek, Hasco, Bakner. Trying not to let the disappointment show you looked back at Ally, talking quicker than lightning to her boyfriend, who definitely wasn’t listening as he scarfed burritos down.
Looking at the time you frown, you had an appointment with your class advisor and a shitload of books to rent and buy. Standing, you look over to the coffee bar, having enough time you grab another cup and go.
You rattle your paper cup as show and hitch a near empty bag over your shoulder. “Meeting with my advisor, have a lovely first day my friends.” Matt gave an extra loud goodbye as you walked off, sending him a middle finger behind your back. Saying quick ‘excuse me’s’ as you passed through the crowd, doing your best to avoid shoulders.
Approaching the small, self-serve coffee cart you open your cup, then see a ‘please use a new cup each time!’ sign and followed instructions, grabbing a piping hot pot of coffee, full of caffeine and loaded up.
Steam billowed over your fingers as you filled the cup up, peering over the assortment of milk and sugar you grin at your pick of the litter.
Looking over to your left when someone stands next to you, you feel your heart race. Swiping his card at checkout and sharing conversation with the line worker, you’ve never seen anything more attractive. You allow yourself to imagine him handing his card to a waiter at dinner, a dinner he asked you out to.
Even more handsome than the last time you saw him, a secret crush.
Last year he had broken up a fight between some twins that were later kicked out the frat, watching him tear them apart and slam the bigger one to the ground as the other was held back by Keznek, made something click in your brain and suddenly you had your eye out for Peter Parker everywhere you went.
The comedic irony being you’ve never spoken to him, fairly sure he doesn’t even know you exist. Flying under his radar for two years, last year boosting you with confidence with your hookup partners, you promised this was the year of going after what you want.
And you wanted Peter Parker.
Snapping the lid you turn to leave, sliding sideways between two tables. About to cross by the table you were just sitting at, you look down at your shoe, losing balance and shoulder checking the person next to you, quickly apologizing.
“So sorry!”
The universe had your back, who else did you bump into other than your crush himself?
Brown hair hidden under a snapback, a heather gray t-shirt with red details, his fraternity logo on the corner of his chest and a full piece on the back. Brown eyes with a honey ring looked at you, for a moment you felt your chest tighten. Peter Parker was about to talk to you, it felt like your tongue went thick, until his eyes hardened and looked at you with disgust.
A sneer, “fucking freshman.”
What a prick, it was a tap and you apologized. He wasn’t the person you’d hoped he’d be, it was a shame he was too cute. “I hope you fucking choke.” You bark at him, words spilling before you could think, then bolting.
Peter’s eyes go wide at your statement, whizzing by a table and up the steps you leave the dining hall. Stomping away, like your harsh steps could be proof for the discontent you felt. It felt somewhat satisfying, because you felt him watching you all the way out.
It may have not been what you liked, but there was no way Peter Parker wouldn’t know who you are after today.
—-----------------------
Shaking your leg and tapping the heel of your foot on the linoleum you look around, arms crossed as you rope over your future. The easy years are over, it’s all about focusing on your major now.
Your advisor is nowhere to be seen, you can’t imagine how many people she’s seeing this week. Eyes catching the inspirational posters in her office, they’re cheesy at best, but damn if they don’t make you feel slightly proud of yourself for getting this far.
Gripping your coffee cup, you look at the cafeteria logo and grimace.
Your meet cute was more like a meet ugly, but maybe he was having a bad day? It’s not like you were all sunshine and roses, the start of the school year sucked, and if you knew anything about last night, he was probably hungover. Unlike you, because you knew the consequences of your actions, you chose to stay in no matter how hard Ally had begged.
‘C’mon, please?’ she dragged out her ‘e’ and gave you puppy dog eyes.
‘Tempting, but no.’ your bed was extremely comfortable underneath you.
‘Please? I don’t wanna go alone.’ if you didn’t know Ally as well as you do you might have given in, but you knew she was full of bullshit.
‘I’m not getting out of bed, dressing, and going to sit in a loud ass frat house while you practice making babies with your boyfriend.’
Argument proved right the next day when she arrived back at the dorm at six in the morning, makeup smeared and a memory of a wild night. The only thing shared before she fell into her bed and passed out for the next two hours was, ‘why did you let me do that? You suck.’
Blinking out of the fog when the door opens, you’re greeted by the same advisor you’ve had for the last two years. “Halfway there, kiddo.” Grinning at her words, scared, but prepared for the next step. Mrs. Caliban swayed her hips as she walked to her desk, sitting in her chair and pushing her glasses to her hair.
“Let’s figure out what books you really need, hm?”
Settling into your seat and crossing your legs, holding your knee in place with your palms.
“I’m ready for some of that Mrs. Caliban magic.”
Watching her look over your classes you appreciate how hard she’s working, crunching numbers and using her knowledge as proof of purchase she tsks as she looks over your requirements log.
“Half of these you won’t use, my advice? Friend up with a sucker who buys one and use theirs on the rare or off chance you actually need it.”
Your heart soaring when she gives you your new sheet, initialing on her copy and stopping yourself from bouncing in your seat. You’re getting her a care package, you don’t care what she says. She’s your guardian angel that just saved you six hundred bucks and secured your ski tip this December.
“Mrs. Caliban, you just did wonders for me, you have no idea.”
You can’t tell if she’s blushing but her response makes you think she is.
“The miracles are why I do it, kiddo. Now, if you don’t mind, I have thirty seven others to make today.”
You caught the hint, scrambling from your seat and hooking an empty bag around your shoulder, prepared to be filled with less books than you were prepared for. How crazy.
Mrs. Caliban’s voice called out your last name before you could open the door, “I have a good feeling about you, I think it’ll be your year. I’m proud of you.”
And damn if that doesn’t make your eyes water.
“I’m counting on it now, Mrs. Caliban. Don’t be wrong.”
Her face tells you you have nothing to worry about, it’s an unamused expression.
“Tell me, baby. When have I ever been wrong?”
You can’t think of one.
—--------------
You couldn’t keep the grin off your face, thumbs moving as quickly as possible across your keyboard. It was already planned for, and it was going to happen no matter what, but what your advisor just did for you tied the bow. And gave you some fun money.
‘Guess who just saved $600 and is DEFINITELY going on the ski trip?’
Ally’s response was immediate.
‘telling matt rn so he can secure the spot. SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS!!!!’
Butting your hip against the bar doorknob, you swung the door outwards and stepped outside, your eyes adjusting to the light. Blinking quickly, you peered up and took a wide step towards the right, heading to the bookstore.
‘Dude, you have no idea. Mrs. Caliban is a fucking hero.’
‘i will give her my life for making it possible for this to happen.’
‘you have no idea, i was about to be so miserable with no other girls there.’
‘Prince is close enough.’
Suddenly, he has something to say. The group chat was his idea but it’s really just you and Ally talking to each other while Prince reads it and randomly jumps in. Peeking up and approaching the line for the bookstore, which wrapped around the building you looked back down at your messages.
‘Hey, popping in to say a few choice words.’
‘Fuck you.’
You heart reacted his message, biting your lip in a silent giggle. Ally laugh reacted, which made Prince follow up with a middle finger emoji. Forgetting how close you were to the line, and lost in the excitement of saving money and going on a ski trip you lose focus and crash into the person in front of you.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you and I’m sorry!”
And, oh fuck, you recognize that shirt. It was ingrained in your mind that morning. If you thought he wasn’t going to forget you earlier then you’ve just signed it into law, he’d never forget you now.
It’s proven when he hits you with the same insult from earlier, you don’t know why it annoys you so much, maybe it’s the assumption. Or maybe it’s because it should be obvious that you weren’t a freshman.
“Want a tip? Look where you’re walking.” He says it with a bitter laugh, like he’s just so funny.
Peter Parker seemed like a nice guy. You didn’t know him, sure, but when you watched him at parties he seemed nice and respectful. And sure, you get his discomfort but only to a certain level. You did break his personal space twice, but him berating you and making you feel like shit just because you weren’t paying attention was a dick move.
It was an accident, both times. And you apologized profusely, at this point it’s on him to not accept the apology and be bitter. It says nothing about you and everything about him. So, it’s only fair if you call him out on his bullshit and state the obvious, he was a dick that spewed too many pet names.
It reeked of condescending and you didn’t have time for it. Maturely, you spun your back on him and redirected your attention on your phone.
Immaturely, Peter asked if you backed down, thinking you couldn’t win in a pissing contest with him.
You kept reminding yourself it spoke more about him than yourself, until you really didn’t understand the anger so you just have to ask.
This message was sent privately.
‘What the fuck is Parker’s problem and who hurt him?’
‘sig nu parker? i dunno, why?’
‘He’s a dick. Is he normally a dick or has he singled me out to be his hate train?’
‘why is parker picking on you?? no, he’s very nice. what did u do?’
‘I bumped into him twice and he keeps calling me freshman :(‘
‘well… u better kiss and makeup cause you guys are airplane buddies on the trip.’
You stare at your screen with an open jaw, Mrs. Caliban was wrong, it was a terrible year and it literally just started.
‘Oh you’re fucking with me, right?’
‘... right, Ally?’
‘😶 ummmm i would lie, but there’s no point.’
‘Oh my god, take one for the team and just sit with me. You’ll survive without Matt for four hours.’
‘i would. i swear i would, but we already bought the seats, speaking of… i was praying for a miracle and pre-bought your seat soooo. 😬’
‘And Prince wasn’t a good enough option????????????????????’
‘ok, princess. to be FAIR we didn’t know you hated each other so…’
‘plenty of time to kiss and makeup tho!!!’
Feeling safe enough to turn around, you ease when he’s got his focus on his own phone. Safely avoiding each other, you can breathe better.
‘Just so you know my current situation, he’s actively hating me so you kiss and makeup that.’
Until your shoes hit his, and he hits you with a cocky grin that sends your heart skipping. It’s unfair he’s so attractive, he can’t be mean and hot, they cancel out. Unless it’s on him, because then it’s down right tempting and frustrating.
“This one’s on me, sweetheart.”
Knowing you’ll have to keep the peace for at least three months makes it doable, and if you can keep it cool, then you could avoid each other peacefully. Until a five hour flight; with him, you’re rounding up.
Peter’s offer makes you question his character. He went from hating you in a second to.. dare you say flirt? Yet again insinuating you’re a freshman, you were about to correct him but stopped. No use, he’d figure it out soon enough. He’d also find out his flight partner soon enough, and if you thought you were unhappy with the news, you couldn’t wait to see him blow up.
You could see a backup plan written on his face. His attitude flipped in a second, he went from displeased to charming quicker than you’ve ever seen.
It’s not right how much you wanted to give in, but you wouldn’t be so easy, especially after he’s been so mean.
Calling him out on his bullshit, you could see he was humbled a bit. Not expecting his play to be announced step by step. What made it better was gaining the upper hand on him, this time you sent him away second guessing himself.
Smirking, you pull your phone back out.
‘Nvm, thought it over, Parker seems fun.’
‘oh. so he flirted with you.’
‘Now, why would you even say that?’
‘cause i know you, lol. also, he’s a tough guy to hate. it’s something about him.’
Well, you’ll just have to figure that out yourself.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7TH
The science building smelt like chemicals, a faint mixture of formaldehyde and bleach. It was oddly comforting and felt homey. Even if you felt like everyone around you was smarter than you, it didn’t feel intimidating. Everyone supported everyone in this hall.
Your feet subconsciously match to the beat of the music flowing through your earphones, smiling at a person sharing the hallway when you curve around the corner. You liked biology just fine, so much so you’re minoring in it.
But you could also admit that this particular semester was going to drag on. Field botany just wasn’t your thing. Plants were incredibly boring to you, they always have been. Save the planet, produce more trees, stop cutting them down, produce more oxygen, all those things.
At the end of the day, learning about plants sucked the life out of you and you were feeling very neutral about the class. You followed a classmate through the door, grazing over the mostly empty room. It was smaller than you expected, you had the pick of the litter.
Middle, middle row was the superior spot. Close enough to pay attention, but far enough to not gain it. Sitting in the center left you throw your bag in the seat next to you and start to set things up, pulling out your laptop, the class syllabus and a pen.
Putting your headphones away and sitting straighter, you focus on the whiteboard, in rainbow bubble letters is your professor's name, ‘Dr. Thatcher.’ It’s cute, you grin at the small hint of personality. Watching students slowly fill in the back rows you sit straighter knowing your row would be next, hopeful your neighbors would be friendly.
Your head turns when the seat next to you is filled, it’s a frat boy.
“God, I am so fucking excited for this term, how about you?”
It’s Ethan Keznek. You never studied him, you knew who he was but you never actually noticed him, but looking into his eyes all you could think of was how long his eyelashes were. It seems like he’s noticing you too, he’s sly with it but he’s looking you up and down.
“Plants aren’t my thing, but I’m assuming they’re yours?”
A toothy smile, you can immediately tell he’s had braces before. He releases a breath before exploding, “god, they’re amazing, aren’t they? Self sustaining, self producing, they literally give us the air we breathe. How could you not find plants extraordinary?”
Ethan’s eyes have a twinkle, it shows passion. You tilt your chin at him, “please tell me you’re majoring in botany, the world needs a lorax.” He breaks into a laugh, it’s charming and contagious, you smile with him.
“Lucky guess, what’s yours?”
You shift in your seat to face him better, “biology’s actually my minor, I’m majoring in english.” Ethan whistles, “big reader?” You nod, “if you ever need some recommendations, I’m your girl.”
Ethan tilts his head and sticks his hand out, “Ethan Keznek, nice to meet you.” You stick your hand in his and shake it, it’s strikingly soft. You introduce yourself and his smile grows, “well,” he says your name and pauses, both of your eyes looking to the front when your new professor enters.
He talks softly, “I will make it my personal mission to make you enjoy plants this semester.” You turn to focus on the front but talk out the corner of your mouth, “unless someone like you cares a whole lot…”
You bite back a grin when you catch him laughing silently, both of you sitting in quiet when your teacher starts to introduce herself. She’s young and a redhead, everything about her seems symmetrical. Something tells you the semester wouldn’t be so bad.
The class was an hour, followed by an hour lab. Class wasn’t bad, the first day was always easy, mostly introductions to the class, the work and the expectations. You stood and stretched before slowly repacking your belongings, Ethan working at the same speed, you assume to keep up with you.
As he zipped his backpack, Ethan cleared his throat and looked at you. You raised your eyebrows and waited, “I know it’s the first day, but would you want to be my lab partner?” It’s the first time you’ve truly met him, but you feel nothing but comfortable around him, he’s kind.
“It would be my honor.”
—---------
Peter Parker was handsome, and pretty, and captivating and slightly mean. You couldn’t stay away from him, but his attitude was enough to make you question if he’s worth the frustration.
You swore to yourself you’d go after him this year, you promised you’d get him into bed. But you can’t deny how good Ethan looked in a lab coat; even safety goggles couldn’t dim those green-brown eyes.
“God I missed this, I was separated from test tubes and pipettes all summer.”
You breathe out your nose as a laugh, “you’re one of those kids that lost his shit over getting a chemistry set for christmas, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, mouthing numbers as he counts his drops, looking at you and the sheet in front of you, bouncing back and forth until you catch the hint.
“Oh!” You scribble the reaction, smiling when he corrects you. “It was a botany kit.”
Looking over at him you can feel a tiny tug on your stomach, it felt like you were losing the plot from Peter. You wanted it to work with Peter, you didn’t really know him outside of surface value, but it felt like you did, and you know that sounds weird, but when he’s around you feel a bit more like yourself.
But Ethan’s easy. “Of course it was.” Ethan’s back to measurements, “you doing anything Friday?” You nibble at your cheek, you know what he’s about to ask. “Nope, you?” He nods, “the frat’s doing freshman Friday,” Ethan looks over his shoulder to ask you, “planning on coming?”
Peter may have asked you first, and you promised you’d be committed to the task, but if he viewed you as a backup plan, you should have one too. Not that Ethan was a second choice, he was just another option at this point.
“Are you kidding? The Sig Nu freshman welcome is famous for a reason, you think I’d miss it?” Ethan diverted his attention to the PH chart on the page resting between you.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He cleared his throat and nodded at a test tube, “that’s a solid four, don’t you think?” You hold your hands up in surrender, “you’re the plant expert, lorax.”
Your pencil is plucked from your hand, he writes his fours odd. He can’t stop making you smile, “well, unless someone like me cares a whole lot…”
—---------------
The entire group was at your dorm. By the entire group you mean Ally, Matt, Prince, and Natalie. A pack of forgotten cards scattered on the floor, everyone focused on their red cups and speaking over each other. Sarah was unable to join in person, but she’s on a facetime call and jumping in when she can.
“On god, I’m gonna fuck my atonamy professor this year.” You choked at Sarah’s comment, Natalie immediately cheering, “who is it?” Sarah bit her lip explaining, “just the hottest hunk of ass to exist. Dr. Youge, and trust me, I wanna go rogue, if you know what I mean.”
“Can confirm, he’s sexy.”
Matt breaks from his twelve minute makeout with Ally, “Prince, you think everyone’s sexy.” He’s nodding accordingly, “because they are.”
“Is this a good time to say Nate and I made it official?” The group overlaps in exclaims, Natalie in the hot seat for a second, her cheeks on fire.
“When?!”
“Why didn’t you say anything?!”
“What?!”
Natalie pushes her hair behind her ears, gold jewelry on display. “Um, well, basically he said he didn’t picture himself settling down but the idea of someone being able to swoop me up made him sick.”
You and Ally form a chorus, Prince joins in halfway through while Matt claps his hands over his ears, “awwww.” He can’t stand the squealing, “yeah, yeah, yeah…” Matt kicks your knee, “did you know Harvey's coming on friday?”
Interest piqued, you hadn’t known, but the promise of the night ending in sex was in your cards and it makes everything about the first week of school better. A reward, if you will.
In two days you have three prospects, Mrs. Caliban was right, this was your year. “I didn’t but…” your eyes shoot to Prince’s, you’d claim dibs because he was yours first, but you didn’t want a hookup to cause a friendship to rift.
“Oh please, I was sloppy seconds. He’s yours.” You stick out your tongue, “why else would he come?”
“The frat. To help the frat kick off the start of the year, because he's an alum. Of the frat.”
Natalie scoffs, “Ally, tell your boyfriend he’s stupid. Harvey’s obviously coming for girly and girly alone. Your frat is just a cover up.” It wasn’t, but Matt was gullible and hell bent on proving you wrong.
“No, it’s tradition. All the old chapter presidents come back after their first graduation. It’s a hello and goodbye thing, like a, um… what am I thinking of, babe?” Ally fixes a piece of his hair sticking straight up, “passing of the torch?” Matt’s thick hand squeezed her bum sending Prince gagging and Natalie blushing. “So fuckin’ smart, I love when you know what I’m thinking.”
Natalie jumps up after looking at her cracked phone screen, “and I’m thinking Nate’s wondering where I am cause I forgot we had a date tonight.” Ally hissed in through her teeth, “play the ‘helped a crying friend’ card, say Matt and I got in a fight.”
Matt stage whispers, “we didn’t have a fight, right?” His girlfriend shakes her head, patting at the tuft of hair sticking up from his scalp, “no, honey.” A grin cracks, “good-” Ally interrupts, “unless Nate asks, then we got in a fight and you made me cry.”
“A total mess, she was weeping all over the floor. Natalie had to help me get her into bed.” Prince jumps in, “I was also there, and crying in support of the Matt strike.”
“So, call you guys if I need to bury a body? Got it.” You speak over the group laugh, “yeah, right. Call Noa, she’d have that shit taken care of in an hour.”
“No, but that’s actually so true.”
“She’s scary but in a sexy way.” Matt groans, “again with the sexy, Prince, good lord.”
“Everyone’s sexy! We’ve been over this!”
Natalie slowly gathers her things, giving you and Ally a silent salute at the door, Prince and Matt bickering back and forth. Looking back at your laptop you shrug, Sarah’s made another silent escape. You wave to your friend watching the door creak open, Natalie doesn’t feel bad for missing out. Neither does Sarah, apparently. “Okay, have fun, byeee.” The door slamming made the boys stop, blinking aware and immediately forgetting why they were debating.
The main squad together at last, you bring the real topics to the table. Clearing your throat and pouring a new drink, you look at the group. “So, Paul, what’s the inside scoop with the pledges and how do I make money out of this?” (As if you didn’t already know.)
Ally and Prince start speaking over each other. “Nope!”
“Not happening!”
“There’s a reason Matt doesn’t vote! He’s biased!” Matt plows right through, “thou shall not steal, it’s a commandment, babe.” You snort, “and what would I be stealing?”
The blonde shrugs, “my knowledge.”
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH
Sleep was tasting good today, you planned on sleeping in as long as you could. The type of sleeping where you get tired of sleeping and open your eyes wide awake and well rested.
The keyword was planned, it’s been a nice summer off from Ally and Matt, because you forgot how they were early risers and were dependent on you for their enjoyment.
“Hey, get up.” You politely ignore the request, it’s already too bright, Ally ripped the curtains apart so you’re hidden under your pillow.
“Oh roomie, please rise.” Even when a pillow slams down on your butt you don’t move, you even attempt to hold your breath, hopeful they’d think you were dead and let your body decompose into your mattress. You wheeze for air and try to scramble from the bed when Matt throws himself on top of you, bouncing and pushing all his weight into you, rattling your name off like an impatient toddler.
“I miss the days when Ally slept at the house,” you try and yell it out, it comes out in squeaks when Ally mounts Matt, “it’s my day off and I’m getting dogpiled!”
“Get up! There’s belgian waffles at the dining hall!” You had the entire day to nap, there were waffles to be eaten. You wriggle around until the bodies on you disappear and you’re heaving for air. Throwing the blanket off and standing you give your friends a staredown before ripping your shirt off. Matt throws his hands over his eyes and screams, “thou shall not commit adultery, thou shall not commit adultery!”
“If you sleep here you see my boobs, Ally knows the rules!” Matt’s screaming at his girlfriend, “it’s a sin! Adultery is a sin!” Ally pushes his side, “you screamed sin before you saw nipple!” You’re changing clothes as fast as you can, if anything Matt would be scarred and keep Ally with him at his place, then you might be able to get some real sleep.
“Sorry, Matt, but, uh… maybe if you sleep at your house you won’t see my boobs?” Ally gives you a glare from God himself, “Matty, this is what she wants. Next time, you better stare right at them.” Her boyfriend cries out, “no!” You roll your eyes, “all covered, you sinner. I’m ready for waffles.”
Matt can’t even look at you in the eyes, a weary finger is pointed at your chest. “Temptation lives in you.”
—----------------
If there wasn’t butter coating each small square in your waffle, there wasn’t enough butter. Noa Carter slides into a seat next to you, wiping syrup from your chin, you smile and take another bite.
“Pledge secured?” Your eyes shoot around, looking for Ally and Matt, it eases your racing heart when they’re still in line loading up.
“I’m meeting with Trent tomorrow night.” You feel gross, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do. “Do you think anyone’s gonna find out?” Noa chews on the straw from her ice coffee, “if Trent lets it slip to anyone else then Matt finds out, if he finds out Ally does, and once she knows, everyone knows.”
“Fuck, I know. He can’t say anything, we- I mean, I have leverage.”
“You think he can’t buy his way into school again?” You shake your head, speaking while you chew, “not without everyone knowing.” Noa tilts her head, she’s saying ‘fair point,’ with her motion. You grab her hand, “hey, thanks again. For the help, and keeping it between us.”
Noa was nice, but not kind. She was a valuable resource for the group but made it clear she was into friendships for the transactional side. Noa could keep a secret, and she knew people in places you didn’t know existed, but if you used those talents she’d need yours in return. A deal with the devil each time you talk to her.
“You’re indebted to me, you know that, right?” She was serious too, not fucking around while trying to get the last bit of coffee through the ice. You nod stiffly, it could be today or twenty years, but when she calls in that favor you have to abide.
“Hey, Noa!” Ally’s always nice, Matt barely looks at her before shoving the corner of a waffle in his mouth. Noa looks at him in disgust and taps her knuckles on the table, “I'm out, see you later.” Ally pouts, “bye, Noa!” She smiles politely, “goodbye, Ally.”
You thank her again with your eyes, “you coming to the party tomorrow?” Noa rotates her hand back and forth, giving you a so-so response. “We’ll see.” Watching Noa walk off you can understand how people find her both mesmerizing and scary, she carries herself in a way that screams she’s the smartest in the room and you believe it.
“What are you wearing tomorrow?” You face Ally and watch her chew on a strawberry, “dunno yet, wanna dress me?” Her face lights up, nodding quickly she swallows, “I got this top over the summer and it’s gonna look so good on you!” Matt speaks staring at his phone, a gameplay blasting through his speakers. “Will Harvey Guyn find it hot?”
If you could reach across the table you’d smack him, instead you finish your waffle. “Does he even have a room there, cause fucking on a twin is torture,” you look at your roommate, “unless we put the beds together…”
Ally raises her hand to cover her mouth while she eats, “I’ll be sleeping with Matty at the house, when I come back Saturday afternoon, and the room is how it was when I left and my sheets are clean… I’ll be none the wiser to what happened.”
You slide your plate away and reach your fork over the table to steal a banana slice, “I was joking but it’s nice to know you’re so-” you chew and stare at Matt while he rubs at his nose and wipes it on his pants; you look back at Ally and grimace. “-kind.”
“Harvey’s crashing in the chapter room, so unless you like a pull-out couch I recommend staying at yours.” You look at Ally, “what’s the chapter room?” You’ve never heard of it, or seen it. And you’re positive that besides the top floor where the members slept, you’ve been in every room of the house.
“A secret room that no one but chapter officers are allowed to be in. I’ve seen it but I’ve never been inside. I tried one time and Matt told me to leave.” Eesh, if Matt kicked Ally out that means it’s a cardinal rule. “So even if I wanted to, I couldn’t sleep in there?”
Matt nods, “correct.” Ally leans into her boyfriend and grabs his elbow, he keeps his focus on his phone while she whispers in his ear. Taking some time to look around the dining hall you recognized a few faces, waving at a girl you shared a few classes with last year.
When you looked up to the upper level, you locked eyes with Peter. You were being sucked in and couldn’t stop. It was like he was telling you to come closer, come talk to him, like he’s inviting you to his table. The chatter in the room fizzled away, time stood still. It felt like your hearts were in sync, it felt like he was looking into you, it felt like you had a crush.
It felt stupid to think anyone could come close to him.
Peter wasn’t looking away, instead analyzing you the same way. He wasn’t sneering, he was curious. You never knew brown eyes could be so captivating, you wonder if he knew how dangerous he was.
Forced to break away when Ally noticed, “who are we looking at?” You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want anyone to know. You stop her from turning, “I thought I saw someone I went to high school with,” you look back up, Peter disappeared.
“False alarm.”
-----
It was just you and Spider-Man in your room.
His plush body laid across your chest, your arms wrapped tight around had flattened him. You spent your day watching Netflix, but after hours it became boring and you switched to scrolling through your phone, hopping between apps before you ended on instagram.
You clutched Spider-Man tighter when you hit the search tab, his name popping up first. He never used his main account, three posts from the past two years. You found his burner account, it was set to private. You wanted nothing more than to push that request to follow, but he didn’t know you like that just yet.
The second you were allowed to follow Peter Parker’s finsta, you’d plow through all one hundred and twelve posts, analyzing each one. You chew your lip for a moment and go to Ally’s page, searching through her followers you see his account, you debate on getting her phone and stalk that way, but it feels like cheating.
It’s eight pm and you think nothing other than frozen yogurt would stop your obsession, so you grabbed your keycard and left Spider-Man to keep your spot warm.
You had an early class the next day and a party with three people you could talk to, one of them being someone that would forsure be in your bed. If only Peter would have you in his bed first. If you were being honest, you’d love to see Peter fight for you.
It’s only slightly exhausting being delusional.
The food hall was dead and you went from mildly hungry to starving the second you smelled food, detoring for a quick sandwich you stuffed it in your bag before crossing the floor for your sweet treat. A prickle on the back of your neck told you to look to your left, at a table with his brothers, was Peter Parker.
It felt like a gravitational pull, you manifested him being in your life since last year and it’s finally happening. The next time you and Prince go out you’re pulling him into a psychic’s shop for a reading. You were caught by who you think was Tarrent, if you remember correctly, he hooked up with Natalie your freshman year.
Blue eyes met yours, just the smallest hint of a smile. It sent you turning your head and stepping behind the bathroom wall for a breather, hiding in embarrassment. You counted to thirty before peeking your head from around the corner, Tarrent kept your secret, no one was looking at you.
This time, watching yourself, you don’t bump into anyone in line for frozen yogurt. You’d hate for another lesson in spatial awareness, unless it’s coming from Peter, in that case you’d take any kind of conversation.
Even when he’s berating you he’s pretty.
Leaving with your cup of dessert you watch Peter walk right by you, hearing his mumbles of a Beastie Boys song. You couldn’t help yourself, a chance at hello. It was an opportunity to have a normal conversation, maybe more of his shining character would come through. Taking a seat at a hightop near the bathrooms you wait until your target comes out.
Humming at the taste of sugar hitting your tongue you look over to his table, you notice Ethan and you hope he doesn’t notice you too. To put it bluntly, you didn’t want Peter thinking he had competition. You don’t even consider Harvey Guyn as competition, he was just a good fuck. He didn’t get dinner with you or take you on dates, and you didn’t want that. At least not from him.
Harvey’s conversations were dry and always built around impressing the people around him. He had great successes for someone his age, but daddy’s money didn’t impress you much.
You sit straighter when you hear the bathroom door open, listening to Peter mumble rap a chorus you jumped in, “another girl, another fight.” He jumped slightly, surprised to see you sitting right next to him. Taking another bite you stare in his eyes while you wrap your tongue around the spoon, Peter sounds breathless when he speaks.
“Hey.”
“Hello, Peter.”
The look on his face told you if he didn’t notice you before, he did now. Did you just stand out from the crowd with one word? You think so. Peter clears his throat lightly, “and you are…” he wants you to fill in the blank, you find some joy in being mysterious, even if it’s just for another night. You pluck your spoon from your mouth, a wide smirk paints on your lips.
“Happy to have a civil conversation with you?” It mildly annoyed him and it made your stomach tug, something about his expression made you happy to bother him. Until he called your bluff, you might have planned this one interaction but everywhere else he just seems to notice you. You’ve always had a wandering eye for him but he’s just now catching on.
Giving him a scouts honor, you promise you haven’t been following him, because you haven’t. It’s that universal pull, each time you’re around him it’s like you’re tasting air while also being breathless. He’s pretty, too pretty for his own good.
Peter’s tempting even when he’s slightly misogynistic, you think he likes your attitude. If there’s one thing you learned, it’s that a man likes it when he has to do a little chasing. You have an early class and Spider-Man at home.
Sliding from your seat, your shoes squeak on the linoleum. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have an early class.” Dare you boldly claim he looked a little disappointed? It seemed like he was. You wish him a goodnight and he returns it, you can’t stop your satisfied smile when you feel him watching you leave.
Quickly stomping up the stairs you look back at Peter’s table, you escaped with only one person looking back at you. Tarrent shoots you a wink, it wasn’t one that was directed at you, but directed at your actions. He knows nothing of you but you have his support, it makes you curious at best, cautious at worst. You stare at the floor until you reach the door, pushing out and taking in the fresh air.
It didn’t feel as refreshing as when you were with Peter. You shrug it off, you already had someone waiting back at home.
Spider-Man’s just as dependent on you as you are him.
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9TH
Morning classes sucked because they were in the morning. Morning classes were awesome because you felt like you focused better, and there was a better student to teacher ratio. Ally whined when your alarm went off, you stood with her in solidarity, because fuck waking up to a slow steady build of music.
“Sorry, roomie.”
Her hand poked from a blanket, waving you off from across the room. You weren’t sure if it was in annoyance or understanding. She had another hour before her class and she was planning to crush thirty of those minutes by hitting snooze.
You moved quickly and quietly, only packing what was needed, and opting for an oversized university hoodie sans your bra. You believed in one thing, casual friday; and you honor it every week. Silently shutting your dorm door you cruise down the hallway, taking in the deep silence and empty scene.
You weren’t a morning person at all, you preferred to wake up slowly and on your own terms, most times hitting snooze way too many times. But you loved the slow calm of the morning, watching the sun fully rise, hearing birds scream the earth awake, feeling empathy for every person with tired, puffy eyes.
Morning’s were gentle, and sometimes you really enjoyed gentle. Friday was your creative writing class and you think it’ll be your favorite for the next year.
Your hypothesis proved true because your professor was the hottest silver fox you’ve ever seen. Every fantasy of being bent over your teachers desk was racing through your mind, you didn’t know how you could ever pay attention.
When he talks, his words curl around your ears, a stubble buzz in your stomach makes you focus in on his lips, watching them pout around ‘S’s. “Hey,” she was late, but Noa was there. “Hey,” you whisper back.
Her smirk is devilish, “talk to Trent yet?” It’d be a punishment until you finished your plan, then she’d let it die. It’s something to do with making her efforts worth it, and making you owe her a favor. You almost regret asking her, but the payoff is worth the narcissism.
Since freshman year, you, Ally, Prince and Natalie made a bet on one person rushing to make it into full recruitment. Sarah joined last year but backed out this year, she’d be too busy in her nursing classes, she made it pretty clear she’d be absent this year.
When it started everyone pitched in a hundred bucks, Natalie won. Last year everyone pitched in five hundred, Ally won. You love your friends, but it left a sour taste in your mouth that people who didn’t need the extra pocket money won.
You weren’t lying when you had a summer job, but it was quickly drained with class and book payments. None of your friends had to worry about that. So, when you found out that your high school friend's ex-boyfriend's little brother was rushing for Sigma Nu, a plan formed.
You upped the stakes this year, big time. Tripling the honey pot by three, fifteen hundred each. That was half of your summer job money, but the payoff was worth the temporary loss. You had an in at the frat and you knew how much the competition games meant, being number one fraternity was the most important thing for Sig Nu, especially after losing it last year to Alpha Delta.
Next step was getting someone to secure the information, enter Noa. She had cracked into every frat on campus and gotten the files, printed them out and completed the job with a pretty folder. It was Noa’s idea to get dirt on Trent, you commended her for her smarts, she claimed she just really hated him.
The real plan was making sure your pledge made it in and no other friends won so you wouldn’t have to share the honey pot. It was skeevy and made you feel slightly dirty, but sometimes you have to play in the mud so you can eat dinner for the year.
As long as no one found out, you’d be okay. Although, deep in your heart you know that while your friends would feel betrayed at first, they’d understand and come around. Mostly because Matt would use some christian wisdom on them and smite them into forgiveness.
“Tonight.” Noa nods, “you impress me, friend. You really, really do.” You give a nervous smile at your new professor when he calls you out for talking, with his wise smirk, you believe Peter Parker may have some competition.
—----------------
At fifteen past four, you got the message you’ve been waiting on, you bit your lip and opened the text, the contact saved as Harvey G.
‘You’re coming to the party tonight, right?’
‘Just for you 😊’
‘I love when you lie to me, it really gets me going.’
‘You know what gets me going? Fucking you on a twin XL.’
‘Dirty talk, that’s my girl.’
‘Wear something pretty for me and I’ll let you call me daddy tonight.’
‘You wish.’
You’d be wearing something pretty tonight, but not for Harvey. You were dressing up for the pure intention of catching Peter Parker’s eye. It was a personal mission to turn you from a backup plan to number one, worse comes to worse, you’d pull out the best friend card and use Ethan as a pawn. Harvey was a set hookup, you didn’t need to impress him with anything. You’ve never even slept in the same bed, and you didn’t care to. He looked like a snorer.
Sending a quick text to Ally to try and figure out the game plan, she responds with a very general answer, so you text Prince to come over and entertain you. He responded with a salute emoji, ‘prepare to be entertained.’
—--------
You and Prince are tilting your head at the same angle, you’re trying to make sense of what you were seeing but the proportions weren’t adding up. It didn’t seem natural, you block out the exaggerated moaning and follow in tilting your head the opposite way when the camera switches positions.
“I mean… that couldn’t… feel good… right?” Prince is looking for your opinion, you nod with him. “Yeah, I don’t… this can’t be real, right?” It’s like you've been heard, the camera angle changes and you’re staring at a man’s asshole as he piledrives into his female co-star. Prince gasps with you, “oh my god! How is she doing that?!” You whistle low, “drugs, Prince. Lots and lots of drugs.” Suddenly, Prince becomes interested.
“You know, sometimes I forget how much the female body amazes me.” You narrow your eyes, “call me a female again, I dare you.” Prince’s voice squeaks, “no thank you, you powerful, beautiful woman.” You pat his green hair, “good boy.”
For once, Ally entered into your dorm without Matt following behind. Prince clapped and told her he was proud she could walk inside all by herself. Her response was, “aw, you’re so cute when you’re lonely.” Prince pretended to bite her.
“So,” Ally opened her tote bag and pulled out a paper bag filled with Sammi’s Sandwiches. “Wanna eat and get ready?” Prince starts bowing, you follow suit.
“All hail queen Ally.”
“Damn right, bitches.”
The second you took your last bite Ally had you in front of your closet mirror while she stood behind you with two shirts on hangers, alternating to hold up each one over your torso.
“Ugh, I wanted you in the green but I think the black would be better.” “Yeah, I think if I hang around Prince it’ll be too much green, ya know?” Prince coughed and breadcrumbs spewed. “I’m sorry, you think you’ll be hanging out with me instead of Harvey?”
“I can’t exactly go in there, grab him, and get out, can I?” Your roommate nods while she fixes your hair, “you absolutely can, I do it with Matty all the time.” You roll your eyes at her in the mirror, “that’s different, you guys are like… common law married at this point.”
Prince is sitting sideways in a chair letting the blood rush to his head, he sits up slightly and slips out a possibility while you adjust your bra strap. “What are the chances Harvey gets so plastered tonight you won’t hookup?”
The elastic snaps on your shoulder when you give him a cold glare, “don’t even try to be funny.” He grins wickedly and presses his thumbs to his middle fingers, “not funny, babe. Manifesting.”
Ally has to hold you back when you lurch at him.
—--------------
You’re lucky you have Prince to keep Ally occupied, you’re a little too lost in your thoughts as you all walk towards frat row. Keeping your arms to your chest you conserve heat, it’s starting to get chilly at night. The first thing you wanted to do was get Trent out of the way, then you’d chat with Ethan while you scope the scene for Peter. Oh god, Harvey. You had too many men to entertain tonight, it would be near impossible to keep them from bumping into each other outside your revolving door.
You just had to play calm and make a game plan. Number one would be Trent, number two would be Harvey, so you could make plans for after the party, number three would be Ethan and certainly not least, you’d be keeping an eye on Peter Parker. Your palms feel clammy thinking about your secret with Trent, you push each plan back by one. The first step would be getting some liquid courage. Brought back to life by gentle bantering, your opinion is needed.
“I could totally ice Matt out, right?”
“Bro, I have two hundred on it right now.”
“You think I can’t live without him?” You butt in, “no, but you can’t let him think you’re mad at him. Even when you’re fighting you tell him you’re not mad at him. It’s gross.” Prince nods while Ally gasps in offense, “I’d love to see it, I think he’d have a mental breakdown.”
“Is it so terrible of me that I don’t like making my boyfriend sad?”
You hang an arm around Ally’s neck and pull her in, “it makes you a better girlfriend than I could ever be.” She giggles and hangs onto you, “I think frat boys like that, maybe it’s time you start sleeping with a member and not alumni.”
You’re not hiding anything out of spite, but because you felt like you wanted to figure it out on your own. And she’s a little pushy, if you were to spill on Peter before ready she’d try everything possible to get Matt involved. Sometimes Ally’s wingmanning ruined potential hookups, and by sometimes, it’s every time. “Ha. Good one.”
Prince steps in to hand his arm around your neck, you three of you stumbling in unison. “Don’t worry, friend. You’ll have your pick on the ski trip.” You flashed a smile, following a crowd of bodies across the crosswalk.
Letting each other go when you hit the first frat house you fix your shirt. Ally was right, it looked really good on you.
There were at least forty kids waiting to get in, only two members on door duty. Following freshmen up the steps you smile at a brother, Prince pays his entrance fee while you hold hands with Ally.
You take a deep breath, and release it when you step in the house.
Welcome to the start of the year.
#peter parker x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#mcu!peter x reader#frat!peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker blurb#tasm!peter x you#my writing
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79. "we're not just friends you know that" with Sonny please please
thank you anon, i hope you like.....listening to one of my favorite songs (First Love/Late Spring by Mitski) inspired this....also Peter in Mutual Friends gif because I needed something pre-SVU (also i love Nate sm, iykyk)
i got a bit carried away with this ngl
PS: to anyone else sending prompts, im gonna be super busy in the next few days so i have no idea when ill be able to write again but keep on sending them!
‘Carisi, I swear to God you stay the fuck away from me with that water gun!’ you squeal while running to the other side of the pool to escape the ice-cold water stream he’s been trying to aim at you.
‘You’re gonna get wet eventually!’ he warns with a smirk, making it sound incredibly suggestive.
You shake your head at him and roll your eyes but you can’t help blushing at the same time. Admittedly, you love his childish attempts at teasing you, and you know in this atmosphere and with all the alcohol flowing this weekend, the flirting will only get worse. Not that it ever leads to anything. You’re just friends, it’s innocent. So far. And you tell yourself you don’t want it to go further even though you catch yourself staring, your eyes wandering over his body as he takes off his shirt.
It’s always been like that between you two. Ever since you met as undergrads at St. John’s a few years ago, taking the same sociology course. Sonny ended up sitting next to you, and that same evening you found each other again at a party and had started talking. He was sweet, and funny, and you could see yourself falling for him immediately if it hadn’t been for your recent heartbreak, that grueling breakup from your highschool sweetheart. You’d still had feelings for your ex although looking back now, it must have been nostalgia, and the fact that along with him, you had left girlhood behind for good. Going off to college meant becoming an adult and starting this new chapter was scary. When you met Sonny, all you needed was a friend. And he had been an amazing friend to you all these years, without ever asking for more.
‘What’s that?’ your girlfriend asks, pointing at your chin and you avert your gaze from Sonny.
‘What?’ you instinctively touch your face.
‘Oh, it’s nothing. Just swear I could see a bit of drool there.’ she laughs and you shove her.
‘Stop!’
‘Hey, I don’t blame you! He is hot. And you know he’s been checking you out in that bikini.’ she states and you swallow the lump in your throat just to let out an awkward laugh.
‘We’re just playing around. You know how he is. It’s not that serious.’ you don’t know who you’re trying to convince, her or yourself.
It’s true, your friendship has always been on the verge of becoming something more. The flirting wasn’t even the worst of it; it was the intimacy you shared, the fact that you had always been there for each other when times got tough. When Sonny questioned his choice of becoming a cop after finishing his degree in criminal justice, wishing he had gone to law school instead of the police academy. When your mom had that cancer scare and your dad was losing it, absolutely helpless and unable to take care of himself while she was getting her treatment. It wasn’t just fun and games. At the end of the day you had a deep and true friendship, and neither of you wanted to throw that away.
But you can feel something shift. It is the way he looks at you as the sun goes down on that first day of your 4th of July weekend. Between laughs and giggles your eyes meet and he gets all quiet and serious, and there’s something in the air you can’t quite grasp. Or maybe it’s the way that friend of a friend asks you about him. If he’s single, and her smile in his direction when you tell her he’s not seeing anyone as far as you know. And then as you get tipsy in order to forget about it all, you realize that he’s keeping his distance for some reason, when he would normally be right by your side, having shots with you, annoying you with his lame jokes.
Your phone vibrates and it’s a text from Sonny. A song by one of your favorite artists that you weren’t even aware he knew of. You look up to scan the crowd for him and find him sitting by the pool by himself, a bottle of beer in his hand.
But I find that lately I’ve been crying like a tall child
You know the lyrics by heart, and there it is again, the lump in your throat. And that devastating feeling in your gut you’ve ignored so many times in the past. The longing to be close to him, to reach out and touch him, you’ve fought time and time again. His eyes meet yours and you draw in a sharp breath, wishing he would just go back to goofing around with you instead of this. Because this, you can’t come back from, you can’t undo.
The only thing you can do is flee but he catches up with you just as you reach the top of the stairs, about to go hide in your room. Sonny’s hand grabs yours and you turn around to face him. And all of a sudden his lips are on yours.
Even if you wanted to protest, you can’t. It feels too good. After the initial shock you kiss him back, your hands are around his neck as his wrap around your waist. Maybe this isn’t right but you want it. You want him. Finally admitting it to yourself is your doom but what if it’s a blessing at the same time? Harboring this secret for so long, these fantasies you had about him and you, what if he’s had them too? Or was it all just another silly little game encouraged by the summer heat and booze?
Please, hurry, leave me, I can’t breathe
Please don’t say you love me
A spark shoots through you and starts to linger between your thighs as his tongue slips into your mouth, a needy moan on his breath. No, you can’t. You can’t give in to this if it’s simply a desire you have to satisfy, or curiosity. Your friendship means too much to you, and it would ruin everything.
One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby
Tell me “don’t” so I can crawl back in
You push him away and Sonny gives you a confused look, searching your eyes for the answer to a question that hasn’t been asked.
‘We can’t, Sonny.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because…I know we would regret it. And then I would lose my best friend.’ you reply, looking down on the floor to avoid his blue eyes piercing into yours.
‘We’re not just friends, you know that.’ he whispers, his finger under your chin lifting up your head again.
‘Don’t…’ you’re scared of what he’s going to say next but it bursts out of him.
‘I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. But I knew you were hurting and being your friend was enough for me. I would never ask for more if I didn’t think it is what you wanted as well. And now we’ve been in denial for so long, and I keep thinking, what if it’s all in my head, y’know? So, please. Tell me it’s not all just in my head.’ he pleads and you can see his eyes filling with tears and it feels like your heart is twisting around itself in your chest.
‘It’s not just in your head.’ you assure softly, your hand reaching out to touch his cheek where an ecstatic smile appears.
‘So you’re in love with me too?’ Sonny asks, sounding like a little boy.
It’s time to let go of your fears. Your own insecurities that had been holding you back although he had always brightened your day, always made your heart beat faster, ever since he asked you your name on that very first day of college.
‘I am, Dominick. I’m in love with you.’ you confess, biting your lip shyly before kissing him again.
A sweet, timid kiss, and yet it doesn’t take long until you pull him towards your room, shoving him against the door the second it closes. He groans, his hands traveling under your short sundress before almost tearing it off you. The rest of your clothes, and his, follow, landing all across the room.
‘Fuck, you should always be naked. You’re so beautiful.’ Sonny breathes as you push him down on the bed, straddling him.
‘I would get arrested.’ you grin, feeling him hard against you.
‘Good thing I’m gonna be a cop soon.’ he chuckles, his hands wandering over your body, making you tremble as one finds its way to your wet folds.
‘Dominick…’ you moan his name as he starts dragging his fingers back and forth through you, his thumb on your clit, massaging there. His touch is heavenly.
You lift your hips again to guide his hard cock into you, letting him fill you to the hilt as you sink down on him. Fuck. In all your wildest fantasies you could have never imagined how amazing he would feel, stretching you in the most delightful way, throbbing so deep inside you. His thighs tense as he lets out the prettiest moan, taking in the sensation of your pussy around him, so wet and tight.
‘God, baby, you…-fuck!’ Sonny pants as you start moving on him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, waves of pleasure already crashing over your body.
Finally being with him is exhilarating. The way he grips your hips, pulling you down harder onto him, showing you exactly how badly he wanted you for all this time. And you’re desperate for him too; your lips on his neck, sucking, licking, nibbling as blind passion takes over. His deep moans are music to your ears, unleashing something inside you you didn’t know was there before. You push him back on the bed in order to ride him harder, and his mouth hangs open as he watches his cock disappear into your glistening cunt. It doesn’t take long and you’re both panting hot messes, close to your orgasms. Sonny reaches down to find your clit, rubbing tight circles and you clench around him in response, feeling yourself climbing towards that peak and you steady yourself on his chest, smiling down at him.
‘’You’re so fucking hot.’ you purr breathlessly. ‘You’re gonna m-make me c-cum. Fuck! Dominick!’
He thrusts up into you roughly, hitting that sweet spot just right, sending you over the edge. You come hard, scratching his skin and making him hiss as your pussy twitches around his cock. Your orgasm is earth-shattering, and if it wasn’t for the loud music downstairs, everyone would have heard your moans, the string of curse words leaving your mouth as you shake. You keep riding him, your flushed body grinding against his as you feel him tensing beneath you, and he spills into you, crying out your name. Fuck, having him come inside you makes you feel even more delirious; having him rub your clit still, making you pulsate around him again and again.
When you finally collapse next to him you are both struggling to catch your breaths, and your thighs are still shaking as he pulls you close, kissing your hair. You remain like this for God knows how long before you decide you’re in need of a shower and you get up, dragging Sonny with you to the bathroom where you turn on the light.
‘Oh shit!’ you gasp, staring at his chest.
‘Guess I will have to keep my shirt on for the rest of the weekend.’ Sonny states, as he looks down, noticing the red scratch marks all over his upper body.
‘I’m so sorry.’ you cover your mouth with your hand, looking at him apologetically.
‘Don’t be. I like it.’ he bites his lip, wiggling his brows at you.
You have to laugh, and he reaches out to tickle you, to make you laugh even harder. The excitement of it all makes you dizzy. Dominick makes you dizzy. And your hands are all over him once more as you step into the shower, the feeling of his body pressed against yours making you moan again.
request a prompt from the smut prompt list 🔥
#sonny carisi#dominick carisi#svu#law and order svu#sonny carisi x reader#dominick carisi x reader#carisi x reader#smut#smut prompt
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PULL ON MY THONG
Pairing: College!Peter Parker X Reader
Summary: Peter needs a vacation. So, naturally, he goes to Vegas during his summer break. He's thin on cash and finds a job at a water park! The hot girl behind the bikini bar is a great bonus to his biweekly paycheck.
Warning: Fluff, sexual tension, teasing, slight body worship, drinking (both reader and Peter are 21+)
Word Count: 7158
A/N: let's pretend this wasn't a summer writing challenge... life happened HARD for it to be posted now.. but i hope y'all enjoy anyway ajsjjs DISCLAIMER!! i know the hotel i used here doesn't have a water park but i was too lazy to use a real one sooo it's an invented one!
It's too warm as soon as Peter exits the airport. It's a sticky and dry kind of warmth, no wind of any kind can be felt around him. His small luggage feels like it weighs 5 tons more than it did mere seconds ago and he realizes how stupid it is to have worn dark clothes.
Travellers push past him to find a cab of any kind to get out of the intense heat. Families get into larger Ubers and some are crazy enough to be walking out. Peter is not that determined.
He has to shuffle through the crowd to find a free cab, they are being filled much quicker than he would have thought. Thank god for his faster pace.
Inside the car, he's blasted with cool air, the sweat on his forehead seemingly evaporating.
The drive to his hotel is smooth. He chugs the rest of his water bottle minutes into the ride. Queen's weather didn't prepare him for this.
In only a few minutes he's on the strip. Billboards of all kinds flash around the cab. It's day outside yet he feels blinded by the colourful lights. He sees half-naked men posing with tourists for money as well as showgirls doing the same. He doesn't let his eyes linger too long. The sidewalk is full of people; after all, it's tourist season.
A bright pink flamingo catches his eye, his hotel seemingly calling out to him! Come, Peter! There's some air con in me maybe you could go to my bar or even check out my casin-
"Sir!" he's startled by the harsh voice that calls him, the cab driver.
"Yes?"
"We're here? I've taken you to your hotel" he gestures to the building they are parked next to.
"Oh! How much do I owe you?"
-
"Y/N, I need you to do the night shift today! Bebe is stuck in St-George, you know how horrible the construction traffic is" Your boss, Xiomara, pleads over the phone. "And I can't come in I have an appointment with my OB"
"What about Charlize?" you ask.
Your phone is on speaker on your bed and you're already looking through the clean bikinis you have ready.
"I haven't been able to reach her, please please please!" she sounds so desperate that you laugh a little.
"Should I wear the blue holo set or go for the pink and red tie-dye one?" Mars squeals loudly, her voice cracks through the speaker on your phone.
"Tie-dye!! You're a lifesaver Y/N/N, I owe you"
"No worries babes, nothing exciting was happening with me tonight" You'll just have to reschedule your date with your vibrator for another day.
"I'll buy you breakfast on your next opening shift! Wait, that's tomorrow, oh god you're gonna be so tired. I can still try and reach Char-"
"Mars! Don't worry so much, keep it going and the baby will just shoot right out of you" you laugh as you pack your bag for the evening.
"I mean I wouldn't complain. I'm very much over pregnancy" she sighs and you only hum as an answer.
You both say your goodbyes and you're quickly doing a makeup look to match your uniform for the night.
Deep red lipstick, a thick black liner that frames your eyes just the way you like and a light amount of everything else. It heats up like crazy in the small bar so you don't want to be sweating it off in seconds. The finishing touch is some body shimmer, that's for the extra tips.
You live in a resort-like rental near the Vegas Strip. Your university funds top students from other states to live in these apartments. When you'd been accepted and offered to house you; you couldn't turn it down. Leaving New York was easy enough, your parents were always travelling for their jobs and your friends were leaving for other schools so it was an easy decision.
A big bonus was that it was only 10 minutes away by foot from your job in a hotel's adult pool.
You gathered all your things and made your way out.
Tuesday nights are the slowest nights. The restricted pool access you work in usually has a long cue to be let in but currently, there are only 5 people. 7 if you count the obviously underage girls that nervously fiddle with their fake IDS.
You've only made 50$ in tips so far which is pretty disheartening. Did you waste your best body shimmer for this?
After cleaning the bar for the third time in the last 10 minutes you give up pretending to be busy. Maybe you should make yourself a drink... A nice cranberry, vodka and watermelon purée slushy... You could even try the new bubblegum gin you received...
As you're trying to figure out what to mix the new alcohol with you spot a guy. A hot guy to be precise. He looks lost as he enters the area and pockets his wallet. His eyes are wide and they seem to be full of awe. First time in Vegas probably. His abs are what make your eyes follow him. For such a soft face the body he has is a pleasant surprise, muscles that don't look too bulky and that highlight the fact that he probably takes very good care of himself.
He looks like a Long Island ice tea type of guy, who likes alcohol but doesn't like tasting it all that much. You almost want to whistle at him or do anything to catch his eye.
He'd be a better date than your vibrator that's for sure.
-
It's Peter's fifth day in Las Vegas and he just learned about his hotel's private pool. They only let people 21 years old and older in. All he knew was that there was a small water park, and the kids' screaming could be heard throughout the day.
There are more palm trees to cover up this part of the hotel's grounds, giving more privacy to whatever happens here. There's a large DJ booth elevated at the end of the pool and at least 3 different bars. The DJ obviously pressed shuffle on a Spotify playlist and decided to scroll through his phone. The 3 bartenders he sees look bored out of their minds and are seemingly playing a card game. Only about 20 other guests are enjoying the privacy of this section.
He chooses to go buy himself a drink, there's nothing much to do besides that and swim right now.
Right as he's about to go and disturb the guys playing cards he sees a little hut next to the jacuzzi. It's pure white and only has a sign on the front where it's written "Cheeky Chicks" with a bright pink bikini painted on.
His brows furrow before he steps back to look inside.
His eyes widen and his breath hitches. There stands a girl. A half-naked girl. A very very pretty half-naked girl. A girl that's already looking at him. Peter's knees might just give out under him. A smirk forms on your lips when you realised cute hot chiselled guy noticed you. This is going to be so much fun.
"Hi," you say while leaning forward on your bar a little. The guy's face heats up instantly. Red creeps up his chest and onto his face. Peter is incredibly weak for pretty girls.
"Hi," he manages to breathe out.
"Come over here," you say with a wink. No one can tell you that you aren't good at your job.
Peter nods and makes his way over to her. His steps are quicker than he initially wanted, he did want to look cool and nonchalant. Too late now!
"What's your name?" you ask when he reaches your hut.
"Um... I'm not sure" his brain is screaming the answer at him but all he can hear is "her eyes are up there, her eyes are up there, her eyes ar-"
"Mh that's unfortunate, guess I'll have to stick with sexy stranger" your smirk grows when his tongue comes out to lick his lips.
"Right, um, I'm Peter?"
"You sure about that babes?" his eyes get as wide as saucers, nicknames are appreciated... You make a mental note of this.
"Peter Parker," he says "That's my name" he nods to himself. Probably feeling very proud that he's remembered it. God, he's adorable your practically melting.
"Hi Peter Parker, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you hot stuff" You lean back to your normal position, he's been working very hard to keep his eyes in respectful eye contact.
"What can I get you, Pete?"
"Huh?"
"You walked up to my bar, don't you want a drink?" you gesture to all the alcohol you have around you.
"Oh! Um what's your favourite?" he looks at the numerous bottles around you.
"Anything turned into a slush" you answer honestly.
"Ok... Something with cherry?" he suggests with a tilt of his head. You nod and get to work.
If you mix your shaker more than usual who could fault you? It keeps his eyes on you as silence settles over. After adding a cherry and coconut slush to the alcohol mix you top it off with maraschino cherries and a bright pink swirly straw.
You hand it over to him, purposefully making contact with his hand. He takes a big sip and your stare falls to his neck. Thick but lean, muscular and so soft looking. He'd look so good with hickeys littered all over it. You could even trail some down, down, down... just under where his swimming trucks start. God, you really need to get off.
"So what do you think, babes?" you ask him as he brings his straw away from his lips. He nods excitedly as a smile spreads on his face. How can you want him to rearrange your insides and bake him a cake all at once?
"It's delicious! I can't even taste the alcohol you put in here" he nods seemingly approvingly and you smile smugly.
"That's how you know it's a dangerous drink" you wink, turning around to quickly put away the things you used to prepare Peter's drink.
"So how much do I owe you?" he takes his wallet out and opens it up with one hand.
Maybe this is your chance to be bold. Get a date out of this incredibly slow day?
"Mh it'll only cost you your phone number" you shrug with a smirk on your face. Peter sputters on the sip he'd taken and flushes from head to toe. He shakes his head quickly and puts down his cup.
"I have to pay you" he goes through the bills he has in his wallet, instantly paling. He counts them again to then meet your eyes anxiously. "Um, any luck this cost under 6$?" he laughs awkwardly taking out the six 1$ bill he had. You cringe and shake your head. Why must you go for the broke cutie? He sighs and shoves the bills into your tip jar.
"I'm sorry, my aunt always tells me to budget better but this trip has got me much shorter on cash than usual..." Peter puts his wallet away, already knowing it's best if leaves as fast as he can.
"How long are you staying in Vegas for?" your question surprises even yourself. You both expect to have him just walk away and forget this interaction happened... but alas you're incredibly weak.
"I don't know really... I bought a one-way ticket so... I'll probably try and get a ticket to leave at the end of summer" which is currently two and a half months away.
"And you already have no cash left??" you gasp. How is that even possible? "Do you have a job? Or a sugar daddy?" you add in a rushed tone, shocked at his quite reckless planning.
"Think I'd look good in a bikini?" he teases. Joking at a time like this? He might just be your soulmate.
"You'd look amazing in a bikini but this is a woman owed and woman run" You sigh dreamily at the thought of Peter in a bikini. New kink unlocked? Or are you just incredibly horny... "Although... one of the lifeguards at the water park quit! Maybe I could get a good word in for you" You start shutting off the lights in your little hut and locking up the coolers and stands around you.
"Now?" Peter exclaims. You ignore his shock and turn back to him. You spot his unfinished slushy and hand it back to him.
"Drink it at least, I'm not doing charity for you not to enjoy it" you tease him before making your way out, locking the side door and hanging up the "Closed" sign.
"Oh and I'm still expecting your phone number"
-
That's how Peter Parker got himself a job at his hotel's water park. The man running it barely asked him what his name was before he was hired. They made sure that he had the right certification for a lifeguard job and the next day he was on the schedule. Well, they wrote him in with a Sharpie and they spelt his name wrong but he had a job!
The kids were... tolerable, the pay was ok and the conditions were bearable. His favourite part, however, is the hottie that always put extra cherries on his alcoholic slushes.
It's been three weeks now since he was able to pay back the first one, and it's also been three weeks since you've exchanged numbers.
You've been texting back and forth like crazy. Just facts about your days when you aren't working at the same time or you even like to have him pick out your bikini. He gets exceptionally shy and takes forever to answer but, surprisingly, he's got impeccable taste. Peter knows it's because of how attracted to you he is. Getting to know you has only deepened how doomed he is, how quickly his feelings have shifted from plain lust.
"So you haven't fucked yet?" Ned's voice is loud out of his phone speaker and it scares the shit out of Peter. He's on his lunch break and it's his weekly bro date with Ned. They have lately been full of your name.
"No, women and men can be friends. You know this" Peter knows full well that he'd ditch the friendship in a heartbeat for something more. He'll keep this act up tho, more gentlemanly... right?
"Not when they obviously wanna bone Pete... You're telling me not even a steamy make-out session?" Peter is glad they decided not to FaceTime because he knows what face Ned would be making right now and he doesn't want to see it.
"No" He wishes. He wishes so badly. Like it's actually starting to concern him how much he just wants you to sit on his lap, put your hands in his hair, maybe pull a little, definitely call him babes like you alw- See? He's going insane.
"That's sad Petey, get a move on! If Y/N is as hot as you say then you can't waste any time!" Ned's voice is so diplomatic it's weird but comforting.
"Oh. My. God. Babes you talk about me?" your chipper voice almost startles Peter off his seat and onto the suspiciously green floors.
Peter looks at you with a terrified expression on his face, like you've caught him mid-murder. Damn, his Peter Tingle for not warning him of your arrival!
"Is that her? Y/N! PETER WANTS TO FU-"
His phone is thrown across the room at record-breaking speed, destroying it. You barely seem surprised.
The silence that takes over the room gives Peter time to look you over. What you're wearing today has to be lingerie... just enough is left to the imagination and it's hypnotising. The way the slightest movement makes you look, the up and down of your chest as you breathe, how you look walking closer to him. Wait, walking closer??
His eyes snap up to meet yours as you walk over to him.
"Take me out tonight" You lean down to his eye level. The eye contact you hold is intense. So much is communicated through facial expressions. Peter's mind repeats your statement over and over, making sure he actually heard the right thing.
"Where?"
"Anywhere near an Apple Store so we can get you a new phone" you wink.
-
Smoking hot date, check.
Carefully picked out outfit, check.
Cute but comfortable makeup, check.
Get Peter a new phone before the date actually starts, check.
You and Peter are now slowly making your way down the Vegas Strip. With the ending goal in mind to find someplace interesting to eat. You walked past many many different restaurants but nothing that made you stop walking.
Peter's hand holds yours loosely, the hot weather unsuitable for real hand-holding. He's wearing a light pink shirt with flamingos and flowers patterned around it, obviously, he hadn't packed a "date shirt" before leaving New York and bought it at his hotel. His legs are barely hidden away by his short jeans short that have numerous rips in them... God you want to bite his thighs.
"You're staring at my legs again" You can hear him smirking through the tone of his voice.
"Oh shut up!" you knock your shoulder onto his arm with a laugh.
"It's fine this most likely compensates for the number of times I've at your boobs... or your ass... or anything really when you have a bikini on" he gestures with his free hand to you. Most likely visualising a bikini on you now.
"Mh, that's true... I'll keep staring then!" you smile proudly winking at him. His face and neck flush pink as he ducks his head. He's so fun to tease always so responsive.
Conversation is easy. It always is. Your personalities mesh together perfectly which makes hanging out with him so fun.
This being more officially a date has put weight on both of your shoulders. Somehow, it's made a sliver of anxiety surround the both of you. It must mean you both want this date to go well; to have many more after.
"Oh! How about hot dogs?" Peter points to a small restaurant to his left.
"Those are probably, like funky hot dogs... I'm down, let's go!" you tug him towards Haute Doggery.
You're both greeted by a woman behind the counter when you walk in. The place is small, with four two-person tables and a high counter along one of the only bare walls. That said it's cosy and inviting so you're immediately excited.
"Wow! A foot-long hog dog??" Peter gasps as he reads the menu. You giggle at his reaction now reading the menu yourself. So many options to choose from... "Want to share two regular-sized speciality ones?"
"Only if we get fries" you nod seriously, now choosing a hot dog to share with him.
"I definitely want to try the mac and cheese one" Peter looks away from the menu to meet your eyes.
"Good choice! I saw we get that one and the breakfast one, I can never say no to hash browns"
Once you receive your order you make your way to one of the tables, ready to absolutely dig in. Peter takes the time to precisely cut in half both hot dogs and gives you your pieces.
"Cheers!" you say knocking your half with his before taking a generous bite of the breakfast delight.
-
"So this is my room!" Peter shuffles inside his hotel room before holding the door open for you.
The room is nothing crazy. One queen bed in. the middle, a dresser with a tv on top of it, grey carpet flooring, pinkish walls, a bathroom and a balcony overlooking the pools and the waterpark.
You make your way over to his freshly made bed: thank you housekeeping. You sit down on it beckoning Peter over to you. He toes off his shoes in a hurry before practically lunging at the spot next to you. Cute.
"Had fun, cutie?" you look at him with seductive eyes and a warm smile. You want him to be putty in your hands.
Peter reacts immediately to the name you call him, blushing and wide-eyed.
"Yeah, you're easy to talk to and really sex- I mean smart. Really smart." his words seem to be tumbling out of his mouth in a panic.
"Babes, calm down!! You can compliment me. Physically too" you smack his chest feeling the firm muscle of his peck.
He only nods as an answer but keeps his eyes locked with yours. You're the one to break the eye contact to glance at his lips. You want to kiss him so bad...
"Can I kiss you?" Peter might be a mind reader.
"Please" is what you answer.
Kissing Peter is immediately addicting. He's so enthusiastic, kisses like his life depends on it. His left hand goes to your back and his right cradles your jaw. Your own move around his body. Gripping his muscles, tangling in his hair, slipping under his shirt. You're having a great time exploring his body.
You bite his bottom lip playfully, tugging it towards you and it makes Peter moan in delight.
"You're so hot, I'm going insane" he mumbles between desperate kisses.
You only hum in answer wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down above you. His body is so warm against yours like he's on fire. You tug off his shirt, to help him cool down is what you tell yourself.
"I know I see you without a shirt more than with one but this is so much sexier" you trail your fingers all. over. him.
Peter turns you onto your side to unzip your romper. His lips never leave yours, the contact staying feverish and fast. It's like he wants to eat you whole. Maybe he does, you'd let him.
The shrill sound of your ringtone startles you, causing you to knock your chin into Peter's nose as you look up.
He groans as you reach to silence the (incredibly rude) device. Unfortunately, your index has other plans and presses the accept call button.
"Y/N?" Xiomara... This can only mean bad news.
"I know you're on a date and I'm so incredibly sorry to be doing this. I just went into labour and you're literally in the hotel somewhere..." Her voice is strained and you breathe out in exasperation.
Peter's head drops into the crook of your neck. His hands don't start roaming, they travel, map your body out. Every single inch of skin he can reach. Inside the romper, your face, legs, arms... Anything and everything.
"I... I don't have a bikini" you manage to say.
"I really don't care what you wear. Actually, you know what I don't care about the bar right now never mind" She hangs up immediately.
"Thank fuck for that" Peter exclaims dragging the rest of your romper off.
You laugh as he readily gets back to what he was doing. His lips on yours, guided your hands into his hair and hips bucking into yours.
Yeah, this is so much better than taking over "Cheeky Chicks" for the evening.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#tom holland spiderman#mcu spiderman#spiderman#peter x reader#tom holland x reader
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almost time to transition from hugh dancy overalls barefoot on the lawn of st peter’s college to hugh dancy adidas fit carrying two huge pumpkins
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Alexander Hamilton
Alexander Hamilton (1755/57-1804) was a lawyer and politician, often recognized as a Founding Father of the United States. He served as George Washington's aide-de-camp during the American Revolution, before going on to become the first US secretary of the treasury and a leader of the Federalist Party. He was mortally wounded in a duel with Aaron Burr in July 1804.
Early Life
Alexander Hamilton was born on the small island of Nevis in the British West Indies on 11 January 1755 or 1757; most modern scholars favor 1755 as his birth year, based on the discovery of a 1768 probate paper that listed his age as 13. He and his older brother, James, Jr., were born out of wedlock to James Hamilton, the wayward younger son of a Scottish laird, and Rachel Faucette Lavien, a married woman who had abandoned her husband after years of unhappy marriage. The couple lived together for several years until 1765, when James Hamilton abruptly deserted his family, either because he had run out of money or because he knew his continued presence would leave the still-married Rachel vulnerable to charges of bigamy. In any case, Rachel was left destitute. To provide for her sons, she opened a modest shop on St. Croix, purchasing her merchandise from her landlord. In early 1768, both Rachel and Alexander contracted yellow fever; while the boy soon recovered, the mother succumbed to the disease on 19 February.
The orphaned Hamilton brothers were sent to live with a cousin, Peter Lytton, but this situation would end after only a year when Lytton committed suicide. The brothers were then split up; James, Jr., was apprenticed to a carpenter, while Alexander found work clerking for the merchant house of Beekman and Cruger. Still only a teenager, Hamilton excelled at his various tasks, which included tracking cargo, helping to chart courses for ships, and calculating prices in multiple currencies. In 1771, he was even left in charge of the firm for five months while the owner was away. Hamilton was a voracious reader who aspired to write works of his own and penned several poems in the early 1770s. In the autumn of 1772, he wrote a letter to his father in which he detailed a hurricane that had recently devastated St. Croix. The letter found its way into publication in a local paper, the Royal Danish-American Gazette, leaving readers dazzled with its vivid and bombastic descriptions:
It seemed as if a total dissolution of nature was taking place. The roaring of the sea and wind, fiery meteors flying about it in the air, the prodigious glare of almost perpetual lightning, the crash of falling houses, and the ear-piercing shrieks of the distressed, were sufficient to strike astonishment into the angels.
(quoted in Chernow, 37)
This essay would prove to be one of the most consequential of Hamilton's life; upon learning that its author was only 17, local community leaders pooled their funds to send the promising young man to college in North America. He landed in Boston in October 1772, before going on to New York City, where he would enroll in King's College (present-day Columbia University) the following year. Hamilton was insatiably ambitious and dove into his studies, which included a classical curriculum of Greek and Latin as well as rhetoric, history, mathematics, and science. His academic career would soon be interrupted, however, by the rising tensions between Great Britain and the Thirteen Colonies over the question of American liberties, particularly that of taxation without representation. Hamilton became swept up in the Whig (or Patriot) movement, writing a series of anonymous pamphlets in which he defended the Boston Tea Party, supported the actions of the First Continental Congress, and condemned Parliament's Intolerable Acts. He opposed the mob violence often displayed by fellow Patriots; on 10 May 1775, he saved the college's Loyalist president, Myles Cooper, from an angry mob by speaking to the crowd long enough to allow Cooper to escape.
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⌗ nct dream as romance tropes
syn. exactly what it says on the tin. the dreamies as different romance tropes, some common, some not.
pairing. nct dream/gn reader.
gen, tropes, & rating. romance. college, missed connections, faking dating, strangers to lovers, matchmaking, friends to lovers, one sided pining. 16+.
warnings. (potentially) underage drinking, profanity.
word count. 3.6k (approx. 450-550 words per member).
mark lee is the boy you spend spring break with. you’d managed to get on a study abroad trip to europe for the vacation, but as the only person from your friend group going, you’d worried about spending the week and a half alone. thank god, then, that mark is also the only one from his friend group going.
you connect during the bi-weekly class sessions leading up to your departure, sitting alone near the back of the small lecture hall. you chat before the faculty leader starts speaking and you giggle amongst yourselves when you have to step into the hallway to practice getting on and off the subway, your arms linked so you don���t get “left behind.” when you both decide to take the charter bus to the airport, mark is the one who packs his suitcase early and heads to your apartment to help you stay awake and do last minute cleaning before he drives you both to the meeting point. you sleep on his shoulder the entire bus ride, in the seats at your gate, you even manage to have seats next to each other on your overnight flight and you fall asleep watching a movie together and sharing your blanket.
spring break is full of the two of you wandering rome together, sharing cups piled high with gelato at the piazza navona, and navigating the parisian subway from the city center to the catacombs. he takes pictures of you on his film camera in st. peter’s basilica; you sneak a selfie together with the ceiling of the sistine chapel, your faces cut off halfway. you climb the bell tower of the duomo in florence, laughing breathlessly when you make it to the top, and you walk the gardens of the palace of versailles together, shoulders brushing as you take in the scenery and chill air of a mid-march morning. on your final night, you watch the eiffel tower glitter from montparnasse and you swear mark looks like he wants to kiss you; you want him to.
but then the trip is over and you go back home. you share seats on the charter bus again and you fall asleep on his shoulder again. he takes you back to your apartment, walks you to your door all bleary eyed and sleepy. you’re worried that this is the last time you’ll see him as you stand at your window and watch him get into his car and drive off. looking at the picture a stranger took of you and mark on the ponte vecchio, his arm around your shoulders and his gaze fixed on you rather than the camera, you realize you cannot let this be the end.
huang renjun is a missed connection. he’s the boy you see all over town, but never work up the courage to introduce yourself to. he’s tall and lanky, always dressed so nice and looking so out of place among everyone else. he’s got soft features, all gentle edges and round, sad eyes. you always find yourself wanting to wrap him up in your arms, fantasizing what his body slotted against yours would feel like. is he warm, soft as he looks?
you see him at your favorite cafe, keeping to himself while he studies and drinks his coffee and picks at his french toast crepe. you spot him on campus, backpack slung over his shoulder on his way to class or laying out on the greens and reading a book. some days, you’re lucky enough to catch the same subway car as him, earbuds in and his eyes trained on the horizon through the window. sometimes, you even end up in the same aisle as him at the convenience store down the street from your apartment. you stand opposite each other, considering your different choices of ramen.
still, with all your instances of seeing him, you’ve never scrounged together the courage you feel you need to talk to him for the first time. even if you could, one glimpse of that lopsided grin of his would have you crumbling anyways, a weakness before you even get the chance to ask for his name. so you resign yourself to only admire him from afar and he, completely unknown to him, will forever be known as the “cute cafe boy” amongst your friend group.
you spend months like that, cherishing the glimpses you get of him. because you often exist in the same spaces with the same schedule, like the cafe on tuesday afternoons at eleven in the morning, you decide to give the barista money one day, tell them that you want to pay for his coffee when he gets here, describe him as the tall, lanky boy with the big brown eyes and gentle voice; they always know who you’re talking about. you tell them to not tell him who paid for it, just that a stranger wanted to pay forward some kindness.
when he arrives and orders, the barista relays the message and they swear up and down the wall it was a stranger, but the glance they cast over his left shoulder is telling. when he turns away, his eyes land on you, too wrapped up in your laptop to notice. but he’s too shy to say anything and so when he gets home, he writes a missed connection posting on your community’s page, the same one your friend frequents to look for free or cheap furniture.
you were at the greenhouse cafe today (tuesday) around 11:15 in the morning. i went there to study and get coffee, but the barista said someone had paid for it already. you wanted to stay a stranger, but if you’re the person i think you are, i want to thank you properly. ramen at the convenience store by our apartment buildings?
maybe your friend oughta pass this on to you.
lee jeno is a friend of a friend, who your friend manages to convince to fake date you for a couple of group outings. she drags you to so many big group events, like drinks at the favorite bar or clubbing or even group movie nights at apartments. out of a group of ten, you and jeno are the only two single ones. it can be annoying being the only singles, especially when you’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t have an issue with not seeing anyone right now; it’ll happen when it happens, you find yourself saying at least once a week, it’s just not a priority right now and i don’t mind it.
jeno faces the same line of irritating questioning, so when you’re out with your friends beom gyu and haechan (the instigators of the group), haechan suggests a scheme to get the rest of your friends off your backs. “just pretend you’re dating for a little while. act a little coupley at our hangouts and then, like… just say that you decided your lives are going in different directions, so you’ve broken up, but it’s amicable and there’s no hard feelings! simple as that.”
beomgyu cosigns almost immediately, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and it kind of scares you. the number of times this duo has instigated things, harmless as they may be, is something to be worried about. you’re a little skeptical, but when you look over at jeno, he’s looking back at you. he gives you a nonchalant shrug and an easy it would get them off our backs for a while. it’s not like we have to actually go out on dates or anything.
it’d just be acting, sure, and you’ve never particularly been into jeno, but his last sentence stings a little, somewhere deep and dark within you. regardless, you ignore the subtle hurt and you nod, mimicking his shrug. sure, why not?
the next time the whole group is together, you and jeno sit together, shoulder to shoulder. almost immediately, yeji picks up on it and nearly squeals. what is this? are you dating? when jeno confirms, the whole table starts shouting, including beomgyu and haechan, the masterminds behind this whole thing (beomgyu tells you later that it was to make it look like they were surprised too). she asks when it happened, why, how, congratulates you both on your new relationship, says it’ll be great for you guys to not be ninth and tenth wheeling on hangouts anymore.
you both go on like this for a while, showing up to the bar or the club or your favorite local diner or even hangouts at someone’s apartment and sitting together, jeno’s arm draped around you or your head on his shoulder. you show up and leave hand in hand. every once in a while, he’ll even drop kisses to your temple or hairline to really seal the deal.
but your mind can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what’s fake, and the lines start to blur. you swear you’re starting to imagine things: fond glances from him, is he holding you just a little tighter or is that a figment of your imagination, why’s he lingering at your front door after dropping you off at home? there’s no chance that’s all for show, right?
lee haechan is the neighbor of the family you’re working as an au pair for. you’re young and fresh out of college, but instead of going straight into a regular job, you decided to go abroad. you were lucky to find a great job as an au pair for a couple and their seven year old daughter; they offered room and board, a good salary, and weekends off (unless needed) in exchange for your services in taking care of their child and helping maintain the house. you confirmed almost immediately and left for their country within the week, nothing but two suitcases and a carry-on.
during your first week, you stuck mainly to your host family’s house, only really leaving to drop off or pick up the daughter from school. but when the weekend rolls around and the parents are off work, they tell you to do some exploring, giving you their personal recommendations for all kinds of stores, restaurants, and cafes. the mother ushers you goodnaturedly to the front door and tells you not to come back for at least two hours, to enjoy and get to know the area, especially if you’ll be around for as long as they need you.
so with a little bit of pocket money and your backpack, you’re left standing on the front lawn with no earthly idea where to go first. you’re just about to pull out your phone and look up the closest location they recommended when a call of hey! startles you. you nearly jump out of your skin and turn to look at the person who interrupted you. he’s decently tall and broad with honey bronze skin and a life-changing smile.
he waves you over and meet him at the edge of the front lawn, his eyes bright and airy, untouched by negativity. he introduces himself as haechan, the grandson of the woman who lives next door. he tells you that he’s going to university here in the city and lives with his grandma, which surprises you; it’s really not as bad as it could be, a twenty something year old living with his grandma, he tells you, i come home to a warm meal every night. but he shakes his head, getting himself back on track.
“anyways, my grandma mentioned something about the neighbors getting a nanny and i haven’t seen you around before, so that must be you, right?”
you nod, telling him you’re an au pair (fancy term, he interjects. cooler than nanny) from abroad and you’ve never visited this country before. he smiles, radiant and welcoming, and suggests that he give you a tour of all the best places, promising to make it worth your while. when you mention that the parents told you not to come back for at least a couple of hours, he nods dutifully and says, “i’m the best tour guide you could possibly had. we’ll be gone for four hours minimum.”
it makes you laugh, the look on his face, and infected by his sunny personality, you shrug, giving him a why not? you could do with a local guide.
“lead the way.”
na jaemin is the frat boy whose friends dare him to date you. he sees you often at the parties his frat throws, always in tow with your more outgoing, popular friends. he’s not entirely sure how you become a hot topic among his friend group (he thinks it’s because you’re so different from the rest of your group), but you do. on nights they get drunk, they often end up discussing you, how you ended up in that gang of friends when you so clearly do not fit in with them; even when you do look like you’re enjoying yourself at a party, you never quite get to the level your friends do.
one night, the discussion turns to a rumor that they heard going around about you: you’ve never had a boyfriend. his friends laugh about it, busting their sides over something so insignificant and so not their business. jaemin doesn’t find any amusement in it; if anything, he thinks it’s kind of cute, if it’s even true. the boys take notice of his silence and when seungmin casts a scheming glance around the table, jaemin feels a chill run through him.
“jaemin,” the younger boy drawls. “dare ya to date ‘em.”
jaemin immediately shakes his head. “the fuck’s wrong with you? that’s fucked up. i’m not doing that for a stupid ass dare.”
seungmin shrugs and leans back in his seat, head tilted back as he takes a drink out of his natty light. a laugh ripples across the group of boys and jaemin has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes; he’s not cruel and he’s not doing that to you, not when you’ve been nothing but sweet to him in the few conversations you’ve had. but then jeongin, the worst culprit of provoking everyone and instigating shit, says it’s because jaemin is too goody-too-shoes, too lame to do something and against his better judgment, jaemin jumps in, heat creeping under his skin, scorching him from the inside out.
“fine, i’ll do it, but i’m expecting compensation for any date,” he says hotly. “you’re paying for it all since it was your stupid ass idea.”
the group almost protests, but jaemin silences them with a deadly look. he reminds them a second time that they’re the ones who came up with the idea, he’s not paying for this out of his own pocket (at least not yet).
when he waltzes up to you at the next party, a seagram’s escape from his own personal stash in his hand for you, you’re immediately suspicious. but his smile is soft, his gaze impossibly softer, the whole of it disarming. he chats you up easily and by the end of the night, your number is secure in his phone, your text log pinned to the top of his messages, and a potential plan to go get breakfast at a hole-in-the-wall diner next week. he smiles when you turn back and wave to him as you’re leaving.
this whole thing is supposed to be a bet, but he’s always wanted to get to know you better, so if he can get his stupid ass friends to bankroll all the dates he plans to take you on, he figures it’ll be killing two birds with one stone.
zhong chenle is the boy your friend has a crush on. he’s in your general psychology class; he sits a couple of rows behind you in the lecture hall, always has the best discussion board posts, always sets the high score for every test, quiz, and assignment. he’s also involved in the choir on campus and he lives in the same dorm building that you and your friend do.
you see him on campus in passing all the time, frequenting the dining hall and the library on the same schedules. your friend, iseul, is almost always with you during these instances too and she starts crushing… hard. you can’t say you blame her: he’s pretty and intelligent and kind of mysterious. you’ve heard whispers of him being the campus crush, which doesn’t surprise you in the slightest.
one friday night, a little bit gone off a blue razzberry beatbox, iseul pleads to you on your dorm room floor, kneeled on the hard linoleum floor and hands pressed together, the whole nine yards. she wants you to help her get with chenle, she really likes him but because she doesn’t have a way of meeting him naturally, you’re her next best bet. she makes you a million promises: she’ll do your laundry for a month, she’ll buy the groceries for the room, she’ll buy your coffee at the campus cafe for the next year, whatever it takes.
she’s near tears when you finally cave in and help her; she hasn’t spoken a single word to that boy, but she’s already so whipped and you’re not sure if you’re ready to hear her whine if you say no. she’s very lucky that you have a group project for your gen psych class and chenle is in your cohort. you don’t have a single clue about how you’re going to play cupid for her, but you suppose you’ll figure it out as you go.
when you, chenle, and the other two members of your group meet for the first time, you’re ready to help iseul bag the man of her dreams. but the more your group meets, the more time you spend sitting next to chenle, his body heat tangible and his cologne invading your senses, the more you exchange ideas and small talk, the more you realize that you like him quite a bit, more than you should.
and then you start hanging out with him outside of the project too, getting coffee or sharing a table at the library or eating dinner on the nights that iseul doesn’t join you for a meal. he laughs at your jokes, asks questions, talks to you about things other than academics. the more you spend your time with him, the harder it gets to want to matchmake him with iseul.
but you made her a promise and you’d be a bad friend to break that promise.
park jisung is your first love, even if he doesn’t know it. he’s a million of your favorite romance tropes rolled into one: childhood best friend, boy next door, campus crush. everything about him is so sweet and kind and cute, it’s next to impossible to not fall in love with him, not when he has everything in the world going for him.
you grow up together, your moms best friends since high school, so you’ve been raised as best friends since birth. you’ve had joint birthdays, matching gifts, a shared cake, all of it. all of your big duo achievements have been celebrated together and you’ve been each other’s dates to every high school dance, including your senior prom. it’s just always been you and jisung, always intertwined, forever written in the stars.
you both decide to go to the same college, manage to get assigned to the same dorm building and into the same gen ed classes because neither of you can imagine going through university without the other. it’s not that you’re codependent (at least not unhealthily so), but he’s your self-proclaimed life partner. you don’t have to follow the same path, just ones that are parallel to each other.
but when you start university, he quickly becomes the heartthrob of your dormitory and then the entire campus. jisung, as he always has been, is oblivious to the extra attention he gets from your classmates, the glances they shoot him in the dining hall, their less than innocent invitations to hang out in their dorm rooms. despite your decades-long friendship, you’ve never really talked about crushes or love or anything of the sort and he’s never given any indication that he likes you romantically, so there’s no reason for you to feel that sharp, ugly pang of jealousy in your gut when another classmate leans a little too close towards him to ask a question while you’re standing in line at the dining hall, waiting to swipe your meal cards.
but you do. it is sharp and painful and terrifying the way you feel so viscerally upset when your peers, girls and guys alike, try to make passes at jisung. you always knew you felt differently about your childhood friend, the one you’ve known since literal diapers, but not to this extent. and you realize one night while you’re drinking contraband alcohol in your dorm room that your feelings stem from a place in your heart you can trace all the way back to eighth grade when he asked you to be his date to the valentine’s day dance when the person you asked rejected you very publicly.
park jisung is not yours, not officially, but your heart has belonged to him for years and you’re too deep in to take it back. maybe if he was just a little less oblivious or you a little less anxious to put your friendship on the line for it.
© hoshologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.
#kvanity#klabels#nct dream x reader#nct dream fluff#nct x reader#nct fluff#kpop fluff#mark lee x reader#renjun x reader#mark x reader#jeno x reader#haechan x reader#jaemin x reader#chenle x reader#jisung x reader#park jisung x reader#writing.fic#nct dream.fic
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“(In the name?) of St Titus.
Holy, holy, holy!
In the name of Jesus Christ, Son of God!
The Lord of the World
Resists (to the best of his ability?)
All attacks(?)/setbacks(?).
The God(?) grants the well-being
Entry.
This means of salvation(?) protects
The human being who
Surrenders to the will
Of the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God,
Since before Jesus Christ
All knees bow to Jesus Christ: the heavenly
The earthly and
The subterranean and every tongue
Confess (to Jesus Christ).”
There is no reference in the text to any other faith besides Christianity, which would also have been unusual at this time.
According to the Frankfurt Archaeology Museum, reliable evidence of Christian life in the northern Alpine regions of the Roman Empire only goes as far back as the 4th century AD.
‘Fantastic find’ made possible by modern technology
Wolfram Kinzig, a church historian and professor from the University of Bonn, helped Scholz to decipher the inscription.
“The silver inscription is one of the oldest pieces of evidence we have for the spread of the New Testament in Roman Germania, because it quotes Philippians 2:10–11 in Latin translation,” Kinzig explained in an interview published on the University of Bonn’s website.
“It’s a striking example of how Biblical quotations were used in magic designed to protect the dead,” said Kinzig.
Peter Heather, a professor of medieval history at King’s College London with a specialist interest in the evolution of Christianity, described the discovery as a “fantastic find.”
Heather, who wasn’t involved in the research, told CNN:
“The capacity to be able to decipher the writing on that rolled-up piece of silver is extraordinary. This is something that’s only possible now with modern technology.
If they’d found it 100 years ago they wouldn’t have known what it was. Silver amulets are probably going to contain some kind of magical scroll but you don’t know what – it could be any religion.”
He added:
“You’ve got evidence of Christian communities in more central parts of the empire but not in a frontier town like that in Roman Germany so that is very unusual, well it’s unique. You’re pushing the history of Christianity in that region back.”
#silver amulet#amulet#germany#nida#frankfurt#archaeology#christianity#christian history#roman empire#artifact#ct scan#phylactery#archaeological museum frankfurt#Leibniz Center for Archaeology in Mainz (LEIZA)#jesus#st. titus#st. paul#frankfurt silver inscription
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Why I think Spider noir is on the younger side(18-20) in the new spiderverse movie per my previous post:
Let’s break it down by Context, Timeline, Mood, and ATSV
Context:
Spider noir has two comic runs that happen before COMICS spiderverse. With that said, there were like inter dimensional energy vampires and that’s obviously not the direction the spiderverse movies went with. So we’re going to largely disregard them for this. To expand, there was a big time jump between that last noir comic and the spiderverse ones. Peter would be closer to mid/late 20s at the start of the comics spiderverse and therefore ITSV if we were to integrate and replace the timelines, BUT I always hated the way they did that time jump in the comics and what it did to Peter’s character.
It felt like they were trying to tie him into 616 Peter wayyyy too much by making his love interest MJ(who we rlly haven’t seen and what we have seen hasn’t had good chemistry), have a good relationship with May(they rlly brushed him shooting someone in front of her and calling him an animal under the rug Huh), and going to college(I get it I do, but unlike most universes I don’t think this Peter could ever stop spiderman enough). There wasn't really any mention of Felicia, Urich, or Robby and their past. They also changed his webbing, his look, and his spider senses.
I felt like that was completely getting rid of all of Peter's characterization and he just becomes the spider with a gun from the 1930s. But the point is they clearly went in a very different artistic and narrative direction after the time jump to a point where it doesn’t feel like the same character.
Refitting the timeline:
So, scrapping the comics spiderverse timeline, I don’t really see a reason for a disjointed time jump. And after those first two comic runs it can be argued, for this Peter, that ITSV happens much sooner for him after that second run, possibly even after the first comic. Then ATSV would happen after that second run. There is an 8mo. time jump between the two runs so it is definitely feasible.
But let’s talk about mood between the runs.
We all know at least somewhat this Peter's origin, and if you don’t, to sum it up: organized crime, monsters, socialism, cannibalism.
The first run ends, Peter beats the goblin without killing him and he’s feeling pretty good about himself/confident. But he’s still got a lot of well deserved angst and self hatred. His uncle is dead, his new mentor/father figure is dead, his relationship with May is on the rocks to say the least, and there’s the whole Felicia thing. He’s still a high schooler and in that teen range, but a big ass lanky teenager who's only solid looking because of the gear he wears. I’d place him around 16-18, a case could be made for 15 but I’m going to politely disagree. ITSV could very easily be fairly soon after these events.
It’s 8 months after the first run. He becomes cocky and overconfident this whole next issue, possibly because of an interdimensionally inflated ego? Point is he feels on top of his game. Also worth mentioning, he’s ignoring MJ this whole issue to the point the audience knows basically nothing about her while he is having a very intense relationship with Felicia(which we already know how I feel about that whole mess) and who MJ is very blatantly and very badly a foil to.(I love MJ she is just not well written here).
The second run ends, his best friend/possible love interest(I said what I said), Robbie, is dead and unavenged.(I can talk a lot more about Robbie and what effect he had and will have on Peter going forward, also the disservice of his ‘death’) Felicia is disfigured and blames Peter. Peter not only blames himself for all this but the comic ends with him saying he feels powerless and a constant sense of impending doom. He really did not get a single win during this comic, man got the shit beaten out of him too. The age at the end of this comic is 17-19. After the last comic dude was messed up but still had hope, after this one we don’t see the fall out, but I can assure it was BAD. That whole ‘you don’t have to kill the bad guy thing’ is probably out the fucking window. I’m more hesitant to think ITSV happened after this run because of that. He isn’t just depressed or self loathing anymore, he isn’t just playing fast and loose with his life to get results. He does not care, he has no hope, and he doesn’t see a good future.
Pre - ATSV predictions with mild spoilers:
With the year and a couple of months time jump for ATSV it’s very plausible that the events of that last run plus possible spider task force shenanigans could happen before the movie. For more context in the comics spider noir was a recurring spider in the ‘elite strike force’. Personally, if he was invited, I could very much see him accepting, especially with his current mental state, and being very aggressive about it. Which, theoretically, could cause him to get kicked off or make a rash decision to leave bc fuck those guys. But the point is at the end of that last comic this man really doesn’t have a single win, he is in a prime state to be manipulated in.
Edit: my dumbass forgot literally the most important detail. The year 1933 is when ITSV noir comes from which matches this timeline with the comics as well.
To sum everything up, the reason why I think spider noirs age is in the 18/20 range is because it fits the above timeline, which I believe to be the most probable timeline of events that are canon by the movies while also staying consistent with at least some of the original comics. It should be further noted there is no evidence of his age throughout the ITSV movie, besides him being played by Nicholas Cage and being tall. In fact, I’d argue due to his excessive use of slang it would naturally place him in a younger category as well as the classic melodramaticness that can come with being a coping teenager. The most important thing that makes his age and at what point in his storyline he’s in up to interpretation is the fact that we see his face once and it’s heavily shadowed. If we saw his face more I’d feel better about giving him a more solid age, but till then context clues for the win. But anyways, this was long and I still have more I could get into/say and I will eventually. Feel free to ask any questions or even tell me why you disagree!
#never claimed my takes were correct or sane but holy shit I will bring receipts#no hate to anyone who HCs him older cause I do understand and see it#especially if you haven’t read the comics or are including the spidergeddon jumping off point#spiderverse spoilers#only like a little#it’s more noir comic spoilers lol#into the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#I cannot wait to see him in beyond the spiderverse#these comics refuse to leave my brain#spider noir conspiracies#spidernoir#spiderman noir#spider noir#marvel#peter benjamin parker#Peter parker#ben urich#robbie robertson#Felicia hardy#mary jane watson#may parker#Ben parker#ITSV#ATSV#marvel noir
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