#we had to read it for my environmental studies class and i did not expect to enjoy it nearly as much as i did | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

titan-fodder · 3 years ago

Text

Prima Vista Part III

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so.

Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.

You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored.

He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.

He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status.

Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy.

He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.

Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”

You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”

“What do you mean?”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”

“Are you calling him a predator?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”

Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”

“A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”

“Even him perving on you?”

“Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”

Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do.

“A little.”

You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”

Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.

“Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”

He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”

The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”

Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.”

You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.

Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”

That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.

“Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.

“Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.

You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.

“It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”

“That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”

Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”

“Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?"

All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”

Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”

Fuck yes. Half the battle is won.

“Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”

You snort. “Try again.”

“Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”

“Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”

Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—

“I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”

You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”

“Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”

“Holy shit.”

Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”

“I guess.”

This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.

Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable.

These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group.

It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands.

“Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped."

“Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.

Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”

You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”

“Ah, of course he did.”

Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks.

“Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”

Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”

The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.

“Glad to hear it.”

The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit.

“You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”

He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.

“Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”

“That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”

“Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”

Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before.

It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game.

You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.

You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom.

“You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.

You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”

“It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”

“Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”

It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience.

He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire.

You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick.

“Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”

That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs.

“Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”

“Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.

Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”

You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”

He chuckles, “You know it.”

Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.

He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head.

“You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”

Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

“Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”

“I have a refractory period, you know.”

You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”

Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower.

It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality.

The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well.

But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.

He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.

“I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time.

He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”

“So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”

“I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”

You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”

Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”

Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”

It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him.

You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time.

“No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”

You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”

He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things.

Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips.

“We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”

He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible.

It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.

In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.

“Have you and Erwin made up yet?”

Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”

You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”

It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.

And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.

Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning.

Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall.

“Is Erwin here?” You ask.

Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before.

“Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”

“Cool, thanks.”

“You know which one it is?”

Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”

The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.

It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.

“Uh, hey?”

“Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”

His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.

“Studying?” You question.

“Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did).

“Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.

Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move.

“So, what’s going on?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks.

“You need to make up with Mike.”

Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”

“Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”

“Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”

“Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he smirks.

You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”

Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.

“So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds.

You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”

His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”

You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”

Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil.

In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls.

Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile.

“You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.

“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”

Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did.

“You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”

He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate.

Are you calling him a predator?

He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea.

“You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”

The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”

You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.

“Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”

“Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”

Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response.

But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."

He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."

And, so you do.

"Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"

"So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.

"I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."

"I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"

"Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick.

"You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up.

"No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare.

And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike.

Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?"

"Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—

And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours.

Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you.

Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"

You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).

He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"

"No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."

Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.

He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"

"Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?"

"I… I don't know. You just—"

"Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"

"Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic.

"Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."

Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt.

"Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."

"Yeah, okay," he nods.

You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.

That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess.

Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from.

"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him.

"What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."

He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows.

"Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."

He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to.

Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike.

Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."

And, of course, Mike is too smart for that.

"Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."

"I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night.

Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?"

The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin.

Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to.

Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out.

"I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.

You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him.

He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college.

The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this.

"Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him.

You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing.

"Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks."

"What're your plans?"

You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek.

When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort.

And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—

"Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."

"Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."

You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind.

Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them.

"I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."

"Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."

"And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"

"I'll think about it," you stop him.

Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes.

Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'.

Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch.

It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs.

You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object.

It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones.

Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint.

You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to.

Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog.

A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired.

The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family.

He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money.

Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park.

You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep.

The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.

"What in the world…"

Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house.

It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food.

"Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion.

Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt.

"Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!"

She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest.

Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic.

What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you?

It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.

"Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.

That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"

"Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."

"I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."

"Obviously not."

He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time).

"I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days."

"I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."

He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."

Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”

He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”

“Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.

“And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.”

You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."

You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him.

"Yeah."

It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead.

"Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.

She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"

And, she's hugging you again.

"I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."

You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."

He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say.

"Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."

He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."

Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear.

"So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."

"It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life."

Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"

"Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off.

Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later.

Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."

You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something.

The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day.

When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father.

"Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?"

"Dad!"

Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."

You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"

"Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."

"Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier.

All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.

Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"

"Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle.

Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches.

You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."

He grunts. "That makes one of us."

Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy.

You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?"

Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."

When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins.

You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."

She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school.

"Look how cute you are with braces!"

"Please stop."

"All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?"

"Mom made me."

"You were so skinny. What happened?"

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."

Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap.

It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his.

He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you.

Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream.

You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders.

You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh.

He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more.

So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day.

"She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."

"Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."

You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."

Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were."

"What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous.

Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."

"We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."

"Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?"

"That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."

"We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."

"So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?"

"Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."

You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."

Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."

You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader #mels prima vista

244 notes · View notes

theringers · 3 years ago

Note

V-card anon: hi sorry about that first ask i kinda went into a fugue state (spelling?) altered state of reality maybe when i wrote that and damn near outlined a fic in your inbox

The way we played hot seat was either part of a larger drinking game when a certain card was pulled from a deck, or just on it's own. You sit in a circle, everyone has a drink, usually a beer or cider. In the card pull version, the one who pulls the card gets asked a question by every person playing and if they refuse to answer they drink from their drink. In the standalone, you do that but everyone gets a turn being asked until people get bored and leave. Fun way to find out shit about people. Usually the unwritten rule is that you can't lie. I imagine everyone sitting on shitty chouches and chairs in a semi circle around a table full of cups and bottles playing it

Questions i have been asked: are you a top or bottom? Do you like anal? Wheres the weirdest place you've fucked? Body count? Favorite position (sexual)? Fuck marry kill/ignore people in this room (EVERY TIME I PLAYED I GOT THIS QUESTION)? Tits or ass or other? Favorite non sexual body part ex. Thigh? Ideal fuck buddy? Sex regrets? Etc

Also more weird details i have head cannoned out for some drivers and most likely does not fit with irl personalities, do with this what you will, use it or don't i just have feelings. Also everyone is like compressed in age to like 20-27ish except for some of the grid who i will just think of as younger alumns who come back:

Danny R: social chair, owns a jeep he takes the doors off of in the summer, walks girls home at night to make sure they're ok, tries to DJ house events and is rebuffed by literally everyone, has like 30 pairs of vans you trip over in his room, stolen roadsigns everywhere, masters in something arigcultural or physiological, cutoff frat shirts for days, fuckboy but nice, a bit cringe, will drive around with you at night so you can scream, met reader bc she had a band tee on and wanted to talk to her about it (no gatekeeping)

Charles: some kind of engineering or math degree but no one has any idea how the fuck he's gotten so far, 4.0 never studies, games with other house members, will show up at events randomly you will have no idea how he gets on your couch but he is there, the best and worst taste in clothes, is the only one allowed to play the piano in the house, sweet, cannot help you with studies but is always down for helping you out after, has to be reminded to clean stuff, disaster bi, reader met his gf first and they probably met through that

Pierre: good fashion and music taste, shirt is gone halfway through the night, also fuckboy but wholesome, actually studies, plays a sport for sure probably soccer in some way either club or Division he's too good for rec, will hold your hair back so you can throw up, will tell you your outfit sucks, good at math, also part of the squad that games, econ major, workout buddies with reader anday have taken a math class together

Max: is part of the hockey team he will go pro, also actually studies, got into gaming because of Charles, has the nicest car, is serious until he gets a couple drinks in him, he and Daniel are close and roomed together at some point, owns like 30 sets of the same outfit a white tee and jeans, knows reader through Dan and they get dragged by him to some of the same stuff

Lando: is a pledge or new member his big is Carlos, undeclared major, just happy to be here, gaming squad, used to play lacrosse or something equally obscure, king of knowing where the good snacks are, weirdly good at beer pong, growing into a fuckboy wholesomeness level tbd, probably sweet with reader as she helped him through a blackout or something, met her because she's basically house mom for some of the new boys (the kind of mom who will teach you to do laundry or iron ONCE)

Carlos: hockey flow but does not play hockey, actually studies and is smarter than what people give him credit for, came from a private high school and uni really opened his horizons, also good study buddy, gets along with most people, goes to office hours the most out of the actually studies gang, fun at parties, owns the frat dogs, he and reader met at Office hours (they were the only students) and found they had mutual friends too

Lewis: is/was president of frat, great grades greater bod, did full evolution from fuckboy to good man, has the back tests and the moral support, up for late noght talks about life, definitely was a D1 athlete, best fashion game, implemented no hazing policy, fits into notable alum or PhD category

Mick: undergrad like Lando, also plays soccer or something, too sweet, also walks girls home/holds your hair back etc, cleans parts of the house that aren't his responsibility, higher alcohol tolerance than you expect, everyone is bizarrely protective of him, legacy member (his dad was a legend), drives a motorbike around campus and can't decide between law and psychology, actually studies, met reader through the frat and she would die for him, brings her to class on the bike sometimes because the bike is faster

George: business major, frat treasurer, three ring binder business casual in class kind of guy, nice enough, shirt comes off when drunk, runs marathons and a podcast about investments, best notes in the game and great study partner, actually studies, is drinking monster at 6AM but not because he stayed up late, he and reader met through the frat and sometimes drink wine and bitch together

Lance: hockey player, legacy member, studies sometimes, sarcasm on point, great at stack cup, very chill, knows every good nap spot on campus, also has high alcohol tolerance, is the kind of person who does well in the cold but does not like it, wears headphones so people don't talk to him, great one on one but not in crowds, business major and minor in computer science, probably also met thru Lance's gf but vibe as more introverted people and will cover for each other if one does not want to go out

Nicky: a good boy, part of the walks people home squad, sets up designated drivers for parties, good snack game, future in medical field, good listener, pretty good study buddy, midnight snack enabler, met reader through frat and his gf he and reader are on babysitting duty together sometimes when others get too drunk/high

Yuki: also a pledge or new, majoring in games or computer science as they gave me the same energy as him, games squad, bit of a mad lad, has several stolen street signs, good, met reader through frat and Yuki is the only one patient enough to explain some games to reader, they cuss people out on mic

Esteban: good man, has a full ride scholarship, actually studies, also good study buddy, Dan's little, plays soccer but maybe on a rec team because he prioritizes school, very sweet guy as well, probably chose a really practical major/dual major, met reader through Dan and are also dragged similar places by him

Antonio: manbun, philosophy or classics major possibly business dual, generally good natured but can be seen supplying his own wine at parties, used to be really into metal but kept the hair, does not know that people find him attractive, soccer boi, met reader through frat and she's the only one who will (pretend) to listen to him rant about philosophy

Alex Albon: another full scholarship guy, somehow gets along with everyone, switched majors due to an asshole professor, electrical engineering or computer engineering, actually studies, helps with frat pets,will show you pictures of his cats at home, sweetie, another contender for will hold your hair or walk you home, probably met reader through a class or club and found they had mutual friends and that reader is friends with his gf

Notable alums:

Checo - dad, successful in finance somehow (he looks like an really successful accountant of CFO to me idk why)

Kimi - dad but people forget he is, holds the record for most drinks in 24 hours that will never be come close to by anyone else, shows up on random alum weekends with 2 kegs, legally cannot tell you what he does or he would actually have to murder you

Valterri - was good at a sport when he was there, now a very effective lead engineer at an architectural firm

Seb - environmental or mechanical engineering, all around good guy with someone the best grades in frat history

Alonso - legendary for sexual exploits (consensual)

Anyone I put as actually studies is probably the type reader would hang around for more serious stuff/schoolwork and would probably be closer to, with the exception of Dan bc I feel like he'd be like we're friends now :)) we shall hang or Charles bc he will just show up. I also imagine she has a pretty good friendship with any existing gf, however if a driver does have a gf and he is the love interest sorry bb girl u gotta go for the purposes of this fic

Sorry this is so long hahaaaaaaa glad you liked my Charles thoughts ilu

i honestly wasn’t going to share this like the rest of the anon asks i’ve gotten that i keep close to my heart but this was just too good to keep to myself.

LOOK! AT! THIS!

f1 drivers as frat bros/college students headcannon

i’m writing a series - each “chapter” will be a smut with a different frat bro and i’m hoping to post a sneak peek this week some time but here’s something to hold you over and give you some ideas

to my vcard anon - i appreciate this so much. my inbox is always open for ur thoughts bc they are SO GOOD !! can’t wait for you to read the first part of the series bby

PS if some of this doesn’t make sense to u feel free to send in asks (i know a lot of this is focused on american college culture so if u don’t get it i’m happy to explain)

#f1 smut asks #headcanons #f1 imagines #vcard anon #f1 blurb #f1 headcanon #f1 as frat bros

87 notes · View notes

lexosaurus · 4 years ago

Text

Happy

A fic for dp side hoes week 2021!

Character: Sam Theme: Happiness

This fic was made especially with my good friend @ghostgothgeek in mind. Happy birthday, Steph! Thank you so much for everything you've done for me from helping me get into grad school, to helping me with my DST homework at 2am. You're such an amazing friend and I am SO so lucky to have you in my life. Love ya! Have a good one!

---

There was a lot that made Sam happy.

Rainy days where she could curl up with a good book, her weekly slam poetry meetup group, horror movies, that one hole in the wall coffee joint run by a woman who reminded Sam of her grandmother. Sam had so many little moments in her week that made her happy.

She knew some people—especially her mom—would be surprised by this. After all, Sam was the gloomy goth. The “dark and mysterious” teenage girl. The one who was constantly at rallies fighting for animals rights or renewable energy plans from the government. She knew how she came off, she wasn’t stupid.

But at the end of the day, she was still a teenager. And even with all that was wrong with the world, there was still so much that was right.

Like right now, sitting here with Danny. Well...sitting might have been too strong of a word. She was sitting, that much was accurate, but Danny had long since fallen asleep, having given up on math after an hour of struggling. Sam was going to wake him, but he just looked so peaceful, with his black hair brushing down on his face, his hand resting under his cheek.

So cute.

She wasn’t exactly sure when their relationship had taken a turn from “just friends” to something more. If she had to pinpoint it, it might have been soon after the “fake out make out” session. Sure, she’d had feelings for him before, but that day just changed something between them. Something that neither of them could explain, neither could admit, but she knew that both of them felt.

It didn’t take too long after then for the study sessions to start. Just the two of them, alone, in one of their rooms, pouring over notes as Danny desperately tried to salvage his GPA. More than once, Sam had caught him sneaking glancing over to her when he thought she was utterly focused on her assignments. But Sam never said anything.

After all, she had been sneaking glances over at him too.

Eventually, it reached a point where Tucker called them lovebirds—as he always teased—but instead of the defensive, “We’re not lovebirds!” exclamation they reflexively shouted, Sam and Danny just blushed and looked away.

Sam would never forget the light of recognition in Tucker’s eyes, followed by a cheshire grin trained pointedly at Sam. If she hadn’t been so tomato-faced in the moment, she might have kicked his shin.

After that, the atmosphere around their study sessions changed. There was a new tension in the air that both of them could feel, but neither would acknowledge.

Sam knew that in the end, she would have to be the one to make the first move. Danny was...well, he was Danny. He was an insecure, teenage boy. Sam could put up a neon sign shouting, “I LIKE YOU” above her head, and Danny would still doubt her.

But, as forward and outgoing as Sam was, she was still...Sam. The passionate, vegan goth of the grade. She wasn’t popular, she wasn’t surrounded by loads of other girls all the time. She wasn’t invited to the parties, girls didn’t come up to her to talk about their weekends or their crushes or anything else that could be interpreted as a budding friendship.

Danny and Tucker were her only friends. If Sam pursued Danny, and things didn’t end well, then she would have no one.

It was too much of a risk.

So Sam held off.

Anytime they were studying, and she saw Danny glancing her way, Sam wouldn’t meet his gaze. If it was movie night, Sam started sitting next to Tucker instead of Danny. After a big ghost fight, when Danny looked to her with adrenalin-filled, electric green eyes, Sam would walk away.

It hurt—it hurt so bad—but she couldn’t risk ruining their friendship. As much as she prided herself on her independence, she still was just a teen girl.

She wanted to be liked. She wanted friends.

But the crush wasn’t going away, the energy between them refused to dissipate. If anything, it was more obvious than before.

It was Sam’s mother of all people who finally, at one awkwardly silent dinner table conversation, was the one to talk some sense into Sam.

“So...you and that Fenton boy,” Pam had said, stirring her fork around her plate. “When were you going to tell me about that?”

Sam felt the blood drain from her face. She tried to play it off. “What do you mean?”

“Sammykins, I may be an adult now, but I was a teenage girl once. I’m not stupid. I may not...approve of that boy and his family. But seeing as you two are obviously an item now, and I want to support you as my daughter, I would expect you to invite him over to dinner to formally meet me and your father please.”

“We’re not—”

“Don’t be silly!” Grandma Ida piped up from across the table. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. You kids aren’t the sly foxes you think you are!”

There was a certain level of embarrassment at being called out by parents that Sam presumed came in the territory of being a teenager. But after the initial shock wore off, she realized something crucial:

Sam really really liked Danny Fenton.

Perhaps more than she thought she did.

So it was during another study session that it finally happened. The awkward energy was palpable, and she knew that Danny felt it too. Even if he would never say anything.

But when Danny glanced up at Sam, Sam finally looked back.

She saw the slight flush enter his cheeks as his eyes started to dart back down at his paper. But before he could retreat back in his metaphorical shell too much, Sam blurted out, “I like you.”

The pink dusting on his cheeks had spread across his face. His eyebrows shot up, and his mouth hung open like a fish. “I—uh—I think—what?”

She put her pencil down and hid her shaking hands inside the sleeves of her oversized black hoodie. “I like you. A lot.”

“Oh. I...”

Their eyes were locked, violet against blue. Sam wanted to look away, but she was never one to back down from a challenge.

“Oh.” Danny blinked, a grin slowly spreading across his lips. “I like you. Too, I mean. I like you too.”

Sam blinked. Once, then twice. But whatever she was waiting for—the “psych!” that her insecurities were sure he would say—never came. Relief spread across her body, followed by something else. Something warm, something bright.

Something like joy.

She didn’t think about anything after. She just leaned in and kissed him, allowing her body to take over. Danny reciprocated, his lips soft and gentle, as if he were worried about hurting Sam.

That much about him still hadn’t changed, not even months later. Danny still was gentle, sometimes too gentle. He still was often afraid to grab her hand, or reach out and hug her.

But, slowly, a level of comfort was beginning to settle between the duo, and with that followed confidence. It was small, it was subtle, but Sam could see Danny’s progression over the last few months. Slowly he was starting to lean over and kiss her first, or he would text her first, or he would reach over and take her hand just because. Slowly he was getting there.

And she could see her own progression too. The “what-ifs” that had plagued her life before were slowly diminishing. She was more confident now—not just on the outside, but the inside too.

And she’d even made a friend outside of Danny and Tucker. Mia, a girl who hung just outside of Paulina’s clique, had slowly become an unlikely friend, the two hitting it off after they realized that they listened to the same bands one day in class.

Sam was happy. Even if her dorky half-ghost boyfriend was sleeping instead of doing his homework, which meant Sam now had to wake him up and re-explain all the concepts. Even if sometimes Tucker teased them in that immature way he did, or if she felt at constant odds with the city about its lack of environmental awareness, or if Sam’s parents still made snide comments about the “wacky, lunatic Fenton boy’s parents.”

Sam was happy.

Which is why she leaned over and shook said dorky boyfriend awake. “Wake up, Danny. You’ve slept enough.”

Danny groaned, lazily shoo-ing her hand off his shoulder. “Come on, Sam, don’t be a party pooper.”

“What, gonna leave me to do all this by myself? Not even gonna help me a little?” Sam teased.

“Ugh, fine.” Danny pushed himself upright and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes.

“My knight in shining armor.”

Grinning, Danny closed the distance between them, pressing his soft lips onto hers. He was cold to the touch, but Sam thrived in the cold.

She broke the kiss, leaning back ever so slightly to gaze into his icy blue eyes. Up close, she could even see little freckles dotting his skin.

“Cute, but we still have homework,” she said.

Danny rolled his eyes and with a dramatic, “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” grabbed his notebook and pencil off the ground and readied himself for another hour of math.

Even with another treacherous hour of math ahead of them, when Sam looked at her dorky half-ghost boyfriend, his slightly crooked smile, his slightly too long black hair that was styled in such a way that could only be achieved through a high-speed flight, she couldn’t help but feel content.

Happy.

---

Thanks for reading!

#danny phantom #dp side hoes week 2021 #phicc #my writing #sam manson #amethyst ocean #i think i spelled that right

124 notes · View notes

sweeethinny · 3 years ago

Text

Wildflower - Chapter 1

one more chapter, i'm excited about this story, i hope you like it as much as i do <3

Thank you @startanewdream who read and opined on some things <3

AO3 | FF. NET | PLAYLIST

-----------

| L. E |

The room was quiet, everyone paying attention to what the Professor was saying and presenting on the slides, with all those graphs and statistics that made Lily almost sleep with her eyes open. She loved her course, but calculus class wasn't her favorite, it wasn't even in her top three preferences.

Lily would rather have a full day of Environmental Chemistry with Professor Hagrid than one more with Burbage.

"Aren't you going to write down what she's saying?" Severus muttered beside her, making her nearly jump in her chair in fright, her heart racing at being pulled out of the quiet of her mind. "Hey, calm down."

"I already wrote down the important one." Lily shrugged, seeing her representation of the chart in the notebook and her lazy scribble of what the Professor had said.

"I won't lend you my notebook to study," he whispered, a smirk on his lips. Lily rolled her eyes, resting her head on her hand again, no longer listening to Burbage's voice.

Was it so early, why did she like to make students suffer like that?

"I don't need to, thanks." Severus didn't respond, but he kissed her on the cheek and then turned his attention back to class, much more interested than she was.

She still hadn't forgotten about their fight after the party Saturday, and all the embarrassment he put her through, and Lily was still hurting, even though she didn't understand why it hurt so much. He explained to her that he was trying to protect her, and the next day, he took her for brunch at her favorite restaurant, which was near a flower shop where Severus bought her flowers. Her favorites.

He was sorry, and Lily had to stop mulling things over even days after they had happened.

"Excuse me, Professor?" A female voice woke her, looking toward the door where one of the cheerleaders was standing.

The girl was beautiful, Lily had seen her before in the presentations in between games - the few she went to - and in the hallways of college; she had long brown hair and eyes almost the same color, and Lily knew the line of boys wanting her wasn't short.

“Say it, Miss Fortescue,” Burbage said, not looking overly excited at being interrupted. ‘I have no time to waste.’

“It'll be quick, I swear.” The girl walked into the room, wearing her red college sweatshirt and simple jeans, and even so, she looked stunning. Lily was a little jealous of her.

‘Me, and the Hogwarts Cheerleaders team, are passing by to remind you that applications to join the Team begin today. You need to have a minimal knowledge of ice skating, and be able to train three times a week, and twice a month on Saturdays. In addition to keeping in mind that if chosen, you will have to travel with us when necessary, and participate in our activities off the field.'’ She smiled, looking at everyone there waiting for questions or any interruptions, but when no one raised a hand, she continued;

‘’To apply you just need to talk to me, or any other cheerleader, and fill in the form. The tests will start next week, so you have plenty of time to think about whether you want to or not.” She waited a few more seconds, then smiled at the woman. "Thank you so much, Professor, excuse me." And she left.

Side conversations began, even though Burbage was trying to restrain the students, but Lily didn't care too much, wondering whether or not she should take the test. Of course she didn't have a body like the other girls, their waists looked almost unreal, but she could try, right? It looked so much fun the few times she watched it, and Lily had been balletting as a child until her mid-teens, when she started to put on weight and Petunia kept saying she was getting too fat to dance.

She could at least try. Maybe she couldn't get in, there were probably girls who had trained her entire life for it, Lily knew it was a competitive sport that many took very seriously, but… She could try.

Lily skated really well too, another reason she should try, and-

"You'd think she'd at least be embarrassed to appear in public, but no," Severus whispered, making Lily look at him not quite understanding what he was talking about, having once again become lost in her thoughts. "God, Lily, pay attention!"

‘‘Sorry, I was thinking. Who has to have courage?’’

‘‘Alice. That captain of the cheerleaders. She was seen having sex in the car with one of the players late last year… Such a bitch.” Severus rolled his eyes, looking almost offended by what she had done. ‘‘But what to expect, all are.’’

"I wanted to take the test," Lily whispered, feeling a weight drop in her stomach that made all her courage drain away.

'’Why? Do you want to wear those short skirts and show your ass for a bunch of men to see? And still call it dancing? Christ, Lily, have a little respect for yourself.” He turned forward, not seeming to want to hear her answer, but Lily ignored the movement and continued;

‘But… it looks so cool, and maybe I don't even come in and-’

‘Lils, I'm a man, listen to what I tell you, these girls don't dance because they like it, they dance because they want to have a dick to suck at the end of the day and get something in return; sometimes a higher note, or sometimes just the gratification of having sucked that dick. You're not like them, you don't need that.”

| J . P |

"Look who's here, our Geppetto!" Remus said, a wide grin on his face and the glass of orange juice raised to James, who was now bitterly regretting not having changed after his carpentry practice class.

"Dude, shut up." James chuckled, not even wanting to argue about how old this joke was getting and that they should try harder. "I can't believe we're not joking about the fact that Sirius needs to wear a wig in his class."

"We did, but you were late, mate." Remus seemed indifferent to James' attempt to shift his attention to Sirius, drinking all of his juice before looking at him more closely. "Marlene put makeup on you?"

"Yeah, is there a problem?" He put his hand to his jaw, no longer as purple and sore as it had been on Saturday, but still too disgusting an orange color to show everyone on the first day of his sophomore year. James had a bit of self-esteem even though it kept him from doing that. "It was horrible."

"Yeah, it's not pretty now." Peter pulled James' face to the side, wanting to see more detail, and that made the pain in the back of his neck return. "But it's better than before."

"Peter, my head." James pushed him away, touching where the back of his neck ached and trying to ease some of the pain that was still bothering him. The doctor had said it would hurt for a few more days, but James couldn't take the headaches anymore. "That asshole was lucky I was drunk."

"I still don't understand why he punched you," Sirius said, the pink wig still in his hands, trying to untangle the strands. "The girl said you didn't even touch her."

‘’I didn't touch it. Man, I don't even remember her face, I was trying to stay upright and not pass out right there, there were like ten redheads in front of me.’' He sighed, taking a sip of his own juice and denying it, still not believing he had stopped at the hospital because someone thought he was harassing the girl. "Was he her boyfriend?"

"I think so, but she didn't look too happy about what he'd done to you, so I don't know if they're still together," Remus said.

"Was she beautiful?" James didn't remember much of that night, least of all the details of her face, the only thing he could remember was that she was wearing an all-black outfit and had red hair. Everything else was just a blur in his mind.

"Yeah," Peter smiled. ‘’Was she wearing weird clothes? Yeah. I mean, who wears sweats to a party? But, she was beautiful. Don't you have a class with her?” He glanced at Remus, who looked like he was in another world as he watched a table next to theirs, full of girls chatting and laughing, one in particular standing with her back to them.

‘’Moony, if you keep drooling on Amelia like that, I'll punch you in the face. She kicked your ass, bro, part to another, forget about her.'’

"James, have you ever been in love yet?" James took a deep breath, thinking they would go back to that same subject Remus always brought up every time someone said something about his ex. '’Answer me.'’

"This wasn't love, Moony, it was a trap." James said the same thing every other time, but it was like he spoke to a wall when it came to Remus. It was frustrating. "She betrayed you."

“It was a slip.” He repeated as usual.

‘’Remus, slip was when I mistook James' aunt for his grandmother, and congratulated her on her 90th birthday. That was a slip. What did she do to you,” Sirius dropped his wig and looked at their friend, a tired smile on his face. It was the tenth time they had had that conversation. ‘It was low. She cheated on you the second you quarreled with her, without a second thought. Besides,” He held up a hand, preventing Remus from saying anything. "She never told you, you only knew because her friend felt sorry for you."

"She was going to tell me!"

"Let's not discuss this again." Peter interrupted the fight that was likely to ensue, but even if he hadn't, someone else did for them.

A girl stopped at their table, arms back and cheeks already on fire, she looked like she wanted to get inside a hole instead of being there.

"Hm. I’m sorry..er..." Her low voice was barely heard in the din in the cafeteria, but James was at the end of the table and could hear her speaking. It was the girl from the party, he recognized her sweet voice, her red hair was in a bun and she was wearing a sweatshirt today too, this time it wasn't black but dark blue, and James thought it didn't look comfortable because it wasn't that cold and that fabric seemed to be very thick and warm. ‘I came to apologize.’

"Sorry?" James looked at her, now everyone at the table was silently paying attention to her, and her cheeks got even hotter, which he thought was cute. Her green eyes fell on James, and he hated even more that he was wearing that ridiculous protective clothes.

"For what Sev did," She bit her bottom lip, filling her lungs with air and smiling gently afterwards. "I'm sorry he punched you."

'But…'

"You're not the one who should apologize," Sirius said, sitting at the other end, looking almost as shocked as James. The guy couldn't be such a coward, what did he think they were going to do, punch him up in the middle of the cafeteria?

The girl looked uncomfortable with this, but stayed there, stuffing her hands inside her sweatshirt pocket. ‘‘I know, but… He wasn't coming, but I'm going to feel really bad for not apologizing, because it was my fault, I- ''

"It wasn't your fault," James cut her off, pausing before placing a hand on her arm to soothe whatever was making her nervous. Who knows what her crazy boyfriend would do if he saw James touching her. "It's okay, really."

"You ended up in the hospital." She reminded him, not that James needed it, but he shrugged.

‘’Nothing too serious. And I was drunk, and…” He didn't know what to say, so opting to just smile at her. '’Everything is fine. If it makes you better, apologies accepted.”

"Sorry again, really," The girl said, her hand over her heart and a slightly sad smile on her face, seeming to notice the makeup on his jaw. James nodded, still not quite sure what to say or what to do, and she left.

'’Oh, I knew I knew her boyfriend.’' The four of them looked at the redhead walking back to her table, where three other guys dressed in black were, none of them looking at James' table but the boy next to her didn't look the least bit happy with her attitude, putting an arm around her shoulders in an almost possessive way. "She dates that idiot who tried to fight with Frank."

"Does he fight everyone then?" James continued to stare at her table, a bad feeling burning in his chest. He remembered that she looked so happy when he came to ask about his glasses, but then, now it seemed like there was none of that inside her anymore.

"He doesn't fight, he talks and talks, but when the time comes he runs away." Remus smiled humorlessly, pulling James back to look at him. "Don't want the three of them to come at you, just because one of them is a coward doesn't mean the others are too."

"She looked sad." Peter rambled. "Didn't she look like?"

“Dating a guy like that, who's happy?” James ran a hand through his hair, looking once more at the table the redhead had gone to before giving up and settling down on the bench, putting her image out of his mind and refocusing on Remus, who had turned to face Amelia again.

| L. E |

Lily was nervous, as if she was about to commit a horrible crime, her stomach churning and bile burning in her throat every time she focused her vision on that paper.

It was a mistake, a huge mistake, she shouldn't be there, she didn't even know how she got there. Get out of there Lily! She screamed to herself.

“Need help?” A voice startled her, her heart nearly leapt out of her body, and she ended up dropping the form to the floor, her shaking hands not even good enough to hold the paper. ‘Hey, I’m sorry. Everything is fine?'

"Yes, yes." Lily didn't look at the girl, but she knew who she was; Alice. Severus' voice reverberated in her mind, and she remembered Mulciber - Sev's best friend, who, like Avery, lived with them - saying; "You don't want everyone to think you're a bitch too, do you?" when Lily spoke of her willingness to take the test.

She thought they were wrong, she knew they were wrong, but her mind seemed unable to say anything against it at the time, her body paralyzed, just nodding and going back to eating, even though her hunger was gone.

'’Are you going to sign up?'’ Alice didn't seem to notice that Lily was uncomfortable however, because she went behind the now empty cafeteria table and sat on the bench there, looking at Lily in such a welcoming way that she felt guilty for not looking her in the eye. '’It's fun. We train a lot, but we are a family too, and as some girls are already graduating and leaving, we need new members.’’

"Family?" Lily looked at her, confused, blaming her mind that it was having to deal with the guilt of thinking she was a bitch, and the boys' voices telling her about her having sex in the car.

She's free to do whatever she wants, Lily thought, taking a deep breath.

‘’Yes, we take care of each other and make sure no one feels left out. If you need a house, we have room for you. It's just girls, no boys in there.” Alice took a folder from her purse, it was full of other completed forms, but at the bottom, there was a blank paper. She reached for Lily. "If you want it." She shrugged, and Lily saw it was another form, but this time, to rent a room.

"Oh I don't have to, I live with my boyfriend." Lily felt her cheeks flush, her eyes automatically returning to the team's blank form. Did she want this?

"But if you ever need to, we're always getting a spare room, just in case." Alice smiled. ‘’So having problems with the questions? I know there are many, but we need to know a lot before we call someone in. We've had bad experiences with this.’’

“I'm still wondering whether I'm going to try or not.” Why was she being so kind to her? Alice didn't know what everyone was calling her? Didn't she care?

‘’Do it. The most that can happen is that you won't be accepted.’’

"Yeah…I think it is." Lily nodded, swallowing the ball of nervousness that rose in her throat. "My boyfriend doesn't think I should apply." She didn't know why she'd said that, it just slipped off her tongue without going through her brain first, but as usual, Alice didn't seem to mind.

'’Why not? And you're the one training and dancing, so it's up to you to decide whether you want to or not.” She ran a hand through her brushed hair, and Lily noticed there was a silver ring on her finger. She dated the guy she had sex with in the car? Lily didn't know his name. '’Unless you have labyrinthitis… But, we already had a girl with labyrinthitis on the team, she didn't just participate in the spins, so there's nothing really stopping you from joining us.'’

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Lily took another deep breath, her nervousness lessening a little.

'Sit down.'

"What?" She looked up from her paper, Alice still with that welcoming look from before, but now more attentive.

"Sit down, you've been standing a long time." She did, placing her bag beside her and taking the pen firmly in her hand, signing her name at the top of the sheet, then moving on to the other questions.

Alice was quiet, doing something on her cell phone while Lily concentrated, trying not to show how anxious she was getting at such a silly and simple task. It was like her mind was hazy and the questions started to no longer make sense, Sev's voice telling her that Lily didn't need it because she wasn't like the other girls, making her even more nervous.

"Have you done any dancing yet?" Alice asked, but not taking her eyes off her cell phone.

‘’Ballet. As a child.” Lily glanced at her quickly before turning back to the paper, writing her age and course.

‘’I did artistic gymnastics, but I always wanted to do ballet. It's a very beautiful dance.’’

"Yes, it is." Lily took a deep breath, answering about her schedule and whether she was able to travel out of town during game season.

"I learned to skate when I got to college, Marlene taught me."

"She's also a cheerleader, right?" Alice looked at her, a sweet smile on her lips, then nodded.

"Many say you need to be afraid of her, but that's not true, Marlene is melted butter with the people she likes."

"I hope she likes me." Lily went back to ticking the form, and no, she wasn't using any narcotics or prescription drugs.

"She definitely will," Alive said, and she seemed to speak the truth, winking at Lily and then turning her attention back to her cell phone.

#jily #james x lily #jily au #muggle au #james potter #lily evans #marauders #my fic #wildflower

23 notes · View notes

taeyohonic · 4 years ago

Text

Zero Percent

Summary: There is a zero percent chance the Park Jimin likes you, right?

Pairing: Jimin x fem!Reader

Genre: College AU, Golden Boy!Jimin, Actor!Jimin, Group Project Hell

Warnings: swearwords, one scene where the reader gets groped without consent (obviously not by Jimin)

Words: 5k

Monday – 9:47 am – PoliSci lecture

Everybody likes Park Jimin. Not only is he the star of the drama department – making the Dean cry with his performance as Hamlet during freshmen year. No, he is also the head of the Environmental Club and part of the most elusive fraternities on campus.

Park Jimin is kind, smart and handsome. The guy is constantly surrounded by fellow frat brothers, drooling girls and you even heard a story about a stray kitten following Jimin around, resulting in him adopting the little cat.

So, you aren’t really surprised when he doesn’t remember you – you only share two classes and one lecture with him. It does sting a bit, though.

“And you are?”, the golden star asks, looking at you with friendly distance in his eyes.

“_______”, you answer.

It follows an awkward silence – all four of you staring at each other with unease. There is no greater hell than group projects. You’ve got no friends, or even acquaintances, in this course. It isn’t like you are a recluse. You just have a very small circle of friends. And you don’t have any desire to change that.

“Well”, Jimin begins and unlocks his iPhone, “let’s start with a shared google docs.” Now he hands his device over to the girl with thick rimmed glasses. She looks like murder and you are woman enough to admit you’re a bit afraid of her. She does start your 8 am lecture with an energy drink and cold pizza. every. single. week.

“We could meet up before class next week to divide the parts among us?”, the guy to your right offers and you haven’t ever heard him speak before. He usually just sits in class and doodles in his sketchbooks. The red one he is resting on right now is the third book you’ve seen him use in the last month.

Your eyes widen as his words reach your tired brain. Meeting up before class? Before 8 am?

The girl gives you Jimin’s phone and you add your contacts half-minded. There is not even a single crack on his screen. Is this guy even real?

“How about after class?”, Jimin suggests instead and winks at you. You nearly drop his phone when you see his left eye closing in mischief. Did Jimin really just wink at you?

“Nah, I’m packed till practice”, the guy answers and takes the iPhone out of your hands.

“What about this weekend?”, the girl asks and opens her calendar.

“I could manage Sunday afternoon”, Jimin says and stores his phone back in his jeans. His way too tight jeans. The jeans you’ve been staring at all through lunch today. He was wrestling for … uhm… fun with one of his brothers – Jungkook you think – and his ass was just… very present pressed against the denim.

“Sounds good”, the sketch guy says and the girl nods in agreement. Now all of them look at you; the person that did in fact have plans for Sunday. But you doubt they’d be very understanding of your self-care day off from the week.

“Yeah, sure”, you agree reluctantly and fish out your own smartphone, an old grandfather of Jimin’s model with many cracks littering the screen. Without looking up, you delete the do not disturb block in your calendar and create a new appointment: group project politics.

“We can meet up at the PoliSci library; I’ll get us a study room”, Jimin says and stands up – his tights directly in your eyesight. There is a hint of blush on your cheeks as you pack your things together yourself.

“Great”, the other guy cheers – way too enthusiastic – and departs from your group. His sketchbook is raised as he waves at you. You turn around to the others and they are both gone too. Well, what did you expect from a group assignment worth 15% of your grade with random people? Did you see Jimin’s back as he exited the lecture room? Maybe. And did your eyes lay a bit longer on his butt? It’d be a crime if they didn’t.

Wednesday – 10:03 pm – dorm room

“No way!”, your roommate shouts, her voice a shrill pain in your head. “Not the Park” You just nod, your late-night ramen hot on your tongue.

“How did you manage that?”, she asks and nibs on some seaweed crackers.

“Random assignment”, you mutter as you swallow down your food.

“You lucky, lucky bitch!” She throws one half-eaten cracker in your face.

“It’s a group project, not a blind date, Jisoo.”

There is a zero percent chance that the Park Jimin is even slightly interested in you. But then you remember his wink and you up your chances to three percent.

“Let’s get some beer to celebrate!”, your roommate suggests and totally ignores your unenthusiastic posture. The day was long – after working a shift at the kiosk on campus.

“I’m tired”, you whine, but your body moves as you get dragged to your feet by Jisoo. “My noodles”, you cry. She just rolls her eyes and pushes the warm cup into your hands. “Eat them on the way.”

You grumble the whole walk to the kiosk you worked just a few hours ago. There are so much more options to get two cans of beer at 10 pm on a Wednesday, but you do get a 5% employee discount – plus the 20% for being a student.

“Do you think he’ll invite you to the fancy parties?”, Jisoo wonders and swings your entwined hands between you. Your other hand holds your food – you want to save the rest up for drinking.

“Before or after I bear his heir?” Jimin’s fraternity is legendary for its exclusive parties. In contrast to most frats, theirs is known for the tight circle of invites. These events had a hand-picked guestlist, no cheap alcohol in sight. There were even rumors that Jimin makes all partygoers use reusable cups to reduce plastic trash. You do remember reading about this in one of the columns of your university paper.

“You’ll be fat after birth, so preferably before”, she reasons. You nod – true.

“I ain’t see any fat”, a male voice slurs and then you feel hands on your butt. You turn around, recognizing a squeeze before the hand leaves your body. As you see the guy who touched you, you feel fear setting in your bones. There are three of them and they do look very drunk. The darkened ally is not the most favorable spot to meet jerks. You can see the light from your store coming up ahead, but it’s late and deserted and they touched you.

“HEY”, Jisoo shouts and moves in front of your body. “NO TOUCHING WITHOUT CONCENT!”

His two friends are shocked by her loud outbreak and take a step back, but the toucher is still standing his ground. “Yo, be chill, bitch”, he says. Oh, he did not. Before you can even think about it, your arm moves on its own account. The lukewarm soup and the noodles splash in his face, coating his shirt and dripping on the cement. The guy’s eyes widen in surprise, but then they light up with anger. Shit. “Shit”, Jisoo whispers out loud.

And then Park Jimin is there, pushing in front of you. He creates a human wall between you and the three guys. His body heaves as he breathes in fast intervals. He must have run after he heard Jisoo’s shouting.

“Back off”, the golden boy says with a calm voice. His blond hair is so close, you are sure you can smell his eucalyptus shampoo.

“Hey man, this is between me and these two bitches”, the other guy answers, insulting you again.

“You’ve got a minute till my brothers catch up”, Jimin states. “Go. Now.”

Maybe the guy was too far gone, alcohol clouding his judgment, but he needs his two buddies nearly dragging him away from you. They whisper in his ears, half bowing to Jimin. “So sorry, man”, one of them says, clearly having recognized the star student even in the dark.

Jimin doesn’t react. Instead, he turns around to you and you get to look at his angered face. “Why are you two out here? Alone? In the middle of the night? Where is your rape whistle? Hm?”, he asks. You just watch him with surprised eyes.

“Hmm?”, he questions again, stepping closer to you. Jisoo stares silently at Jimin. She has never spoken to him but has always been a strong advocate for watching his ass during lunch.

“Uhm”, you try to answer and swallow the fear from moments ago down. “We… we-were getting to the part?”

Jimin just scoffs in your face, clearly not impressed with your fumbled words. “What are you even doing out here at this time?”

You are slightly intimidated by his presence, so your finger shakes a bit as you point to the kiosk behind you. “We wanted beer.”

You have no idea how this happened. One second you were assaulted, then saved by Jimin. Now you’re sitting in front of the store, waiting for the guy to come back out. Jisoo is sitting next to you on the steps, her elbows on her knees. Then you hear the bell at the door and turn around to see Jimin juggling three beers under his right arm and a steaming cup of noodles in his left hand. He comes to a still before you and pushes the ramen in your hands. After that he places two bottles in front of your feet and crouches down facing you. Jimin’s face has cleared and he looks friendly enough.

“Thanks”, you whisper into your cup. Jisoo hums in agreement.

“I called one of my brothers. He’ll get the footage from one of the security cameras tomorrow”, he explains and twists his own beer open, taking a big swing.

“Why?”, you ask confused and blow at your noodles. Jimin’s eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean why? So, we can write these bastards up”, he says, and you gasp in surprise, the noodles falling back into the cup.

“You’d… do that for us? Even though you haven’t even seen him… uhm… grabbing me?”, you question in wonder. Why would he go out on a limb for you?

Jimin just rolls his eyes at you. “Of course, I’d do that.”

He is halfway through his beer when Jisoo decides to participate in this semi silent semi one-sided conversation.

“What … were you – you know – doing out this late?”, she wants to know in the softest tone you’ve ever heard her speak in.

Jimin’s hand combs through his hair, the thick strands parted by his fingertips. “I was on a date”, he answers casually.

“On a Wednesday?” Maybe not your smartest contribution because both let out a chuckle.

“Some people date during the week”, Jisoo snorts.

“Some people do meth, Jisoo. Doesn’t mean these are good life choices. Wait – Jimin… did you leave your date to…”

“To rescue two girls from danger? Yeah.”, he finishes for you and dusts invisible dirt from his shoulders. You roll your eyes at his puffed chest and eat another bite of your food.

“Nah, I’m just messing with you”, he laughs, “I was just on my way back from dropping her off at thes dorms.”

After that, there is an awkward silence. The three of you aren’t friends – there is no connection, common interest or shared anecdotes between you. Well, apart from your group project and his unborn son. Before you can start to ramble about the specifics of the – still empty – google docs he linked you in two days ago, his cell starts vibrating.

“Yeah?”, Jimin answers absently and collects your empty bottles to dispose them into the recycling bin. His conversation is muffled at best and you look at your roommate. Again, you hear the bell ring as your coworker Jaehyung closes the door and locks the store.

He smiles down at you. “Why didn’t you come inside, ______?”, he asks in greetings and gives you a quick hug. You hold your ramen in a vice grip – you’ll not lose your second midnight snack again.

“Jimin insisted he didn’t need the 5% extra discount”, you shrug and Jaehyung looks at you funny.

“Jimin?”, he wonders and steals a bite of your noodles. Is there even a god?

“That’ll be me”, the man in question responds and locks his iPhone as he joins the extended group.

“Ah, man… I loved how you absolutely killed it last week on stage”, Jaehyung praises and pats the lead actor on the back. You couldn’t agree more. You’d been there with all the student employees from the kiosk. Jaehyung made it his mission to justify the outing as a bonding experience and teamwork task to your boss.

“This one even had tears in her eyes”, he whispers in mock secrecy and points in your face. Jimin looks at you with an unspoken question on his lips. The actor stops studying you and moves his eyes to look at your coworker, who stands very closed to your sitting figure.

“Glad you enjoyed it”, Jimin mumbles and spares a small smile. “I… really have to get to the frat soon”, he starts, “so, … I’ll better get you two to your room now.”

Jisoo stands up in a heartbeat, dragging you up as well. He’s going to walk you home?

“Nah, don’t worry, man. I’ve got this!”, Jaehyung answers. Jimin’s face is blank as he musters the scene in front of him.

“I’d really like to know that you got back okay”, he reasons and looks pointedly at your coworker.

“Their dorm is waaay out of your way, man. Just let me handle this… It’s the same direction for me anyway”, Jaehyung tries to reason and you see Jimin’s eyes flash in frustration.

Jisoo is just looking between both men, not really sure how to react. Has Jimin an ulterior motive to walk you back? Does he even want to walk you back? Is it more than just soothing his conscious?

Maybe your chances of the Park Jimin being interested in you just upped from three to fifteen percent.

“Sure”, Jimin reluctantly agrees to Jaehyung’s plan and faces you, his stare zeroing in on you.

“Write me when you get home?”, he demands more than asks and you can only nod dumbfounded.

“Just,… let me give you my number so you’ll be able to text me”, Jimin reasons and stretches his hand out to get your phone. You look at him in confusion – you exchanged numbers two days ago during class. He was the one messaging all of you.

“I… uhm… have your number”, you tell him. His eyes widen in surprise.

“Since when?”, the campus star asks and musters you in suspicion. Your face colors instantly, a deep red tone on your cheeks, as you realize that Jimin doesn’t remember you’re in his group assignment. He… doesn’t even recognize you. You feel so embarrassed, more so when Jisoo, too, sucks in her breathe.

“Uhm”, this is… very humiliating, “we’re i- in the same.. group for our PoliSci class.”

There is a beat of silence as you see even Jimin’s cheeks dusted with a hint of red.

“Ah, right, sorry”, he says and massages his neck uncomfortably. “I didn’t recognize you without your glasses.” Kill me now.

You just laugh and swallow down the bitter taste in your mouth while moving closer to your friend. Now, he thinks you’re the murderer? There is no mercy for your pride here.

“Let’s get going, ______”, Jisoo says, way too chipper and links your arms as she pulls you away from this disaster. “Thanks again, Jimin-ssi.”

“Yeah”, you agree and bow in front of him to cover the humiliation painted across your face.

Jimin bites on his bottom lip, all too tempted to reply, but settles for a swift nod.

Then the three of you walk away and ss soon as he is out earshot, Jaehyung looks at you.

“I have never seen you wearing glasses, ______”

Well, maybe your predictions were a bit off, maybe your chances with Jimin were no more than two percent.

Sunday – 4:32 pm – PoliSci library

“Should we… just start?”, you ask as Jimin fiddles with his tablet. You’re both seated in one of the small study rooms of your library. There is a half-empty box of chocolates between you. Jimin presented them with a shrug – they were a present he got after his last performance, the sweets a gift from one of his fanclubs… yeah… plural.

Other than that, there is your old laptop in the desk, some of the books from your professor’s reading list spread around the table, and an empty water bottle. What is not here, is the rest of the group.

You don’t have their numbers, Jimin being the organizer out of the four of you. His is the only number that is saved in your phone and was used last Wednesday. There was a small part of you – hell, who are you kidding? – a big part of you, that didn’t want to text Jimin. After the embarrassment died down that night, you were really angry. How could he? He winked at you one day and then forgot he even knows you the next day?

You wanted him to be ashamed; having him franticly messaging the wrong girl in his group would have served him right. And judging by the sheer joy this girl is, he’d have gotten an earful calling her at midnight.

But then you didn’t want to imagine him realizing he had the wrong girl. No, you wanted to be present. So, you texted him briefly and rescheduled the reveal for this Sunday, when he’d see both of you. And now you two are alone. Perfect planning, ______.

“You texted them, right?”, you ask for the tenth time and Jimin nods, picking one more praline from the box.

“Yeah, and I also called while you were peeing”, Jimin answers and pops the dark chocolate in his mouth.

“Don’t say that word”, you say.

“What? Pee?”, he laughs, “Be happy I didn’t say piss.”

“Now you said it too”, you whine.

“What else am I supposed to say, _______?” Oh, the right name; nice.

“Going to the toilette? Stepping out for a second? Leaving the room?”, you list and grab a sweet. The air between you both isn’t exactly uncomfortable. You’ve licked your wounds over the rest of the week and can see your partner for what he is, an overachiever.

He has much on his plate, so many appointments and engagements, it’s no wonder he doesn’t remember one of the hundred of faces on campus. So, you decided to forgive him… to a certain degree. The degree being, that a.) he doesn’t even know there is an issue and b.) your big revenge fell down the drain with your female partner being a non-show.

For the last half hour, the two of you talked, mainly about organisatory stuff like due-dates and presentation formats. But then you pointed to the box of chocolates and you both strayed into more private matters. You complimented him – again – for his performance and Jimin expressed his relief that he received all-around glowing reviews. He even shared that there was a casting coach at one of the stage nights. The golden boy’s eyes lit up, as he talked about the offer to sign a contract with this coach, who was one of the most in-demands in his profession.

“We could just divide the parts evenly among us and pick the ones most to our liking”, your partner offers and shares his tablet with you.

“I doodled with a few topics last night… what do you think, _____?”, he asks, and you look at his notes. Of course, his doodles look like your versions of an exposé.

Why does he have so much resources to prep for this meeting when he can’t even filter your face?

“Yeah, the second theme looks… uhm quite promising”, you say and move to enlarge his mind map. You’re sure the first proposal is just as good, but there were a few words that you don’t even know how to pronounce.

The two of you work productively for the next half hour, separating some key elements of the theory and choosing your own parts. Jimin – being the one coming up with the whole topic – let’s you pick first. You try to decline but he is very adamant.

After you added all your points into the shared document, the both of you pack away your things and Jimin throws away the empty box of chocolates. So much for a healthy afternoon snack.

Jimin is just happily telling you he’ll sleep in tomorrow because your professor canceled your shared lecture. You can’t agree more – having moved your self-care day to tomorrow instead. You’ll skip your tutoring session in the evening, so the whole day is yours. A smile stretches across your face and you hear Jimin stumble on his words as he looks at you.

“There is a party at my frat today, if you wanne come?”, he offers and slings his backpack over his shoulders. Wait… what?

“A Bangtan Party?”, you whisper-shout and look at him – the smile frozen on your lips.

Jimin looks a bit embarrassed as he sees your excitement.

“Yeah… I could set you on the guestlist?”, he say, a bit unsure. Your brain is working overtime. The Park Jimin wants you at his party? The girl he couldn’t even remember a few days ago? A mere group project fail?

“Really?”, you ask as you feel anticipation cursing through your veins.

“Really.” Jimin’s eyes are nearly closed, a bright smile pushing his cheeks up.

Maybe… Maybe your chances of the Park Jimin being interested in you are higher than you thought, now that he knows who you are. You’ll give yourself solid 20 percent. This party is one of the most exclusive affairs on campus, why else invite you if there isn’t some interest at his end?

“Cool”, you say, “can I bring my roommate?”

Jimin nods and holds open the door, closing and locking it behind him.

“I’ll see you tonight then?”, he asks instead of saying goodbye and moves away from you. You see Jungkook… and is that Namjoon?... waiting two aisles behind you, talking to each other in hushed voices. You wave at Jimin in affirmation and turn around.

“Don’t you think this is way too short?”, you ask – your insecurity slipping right out as you brush over the fabric of your dark red metallic skirt. Jisoo and you have been getting ready for the last few hours, which entailed not only some very hairspray-intense styling but also a tree diagram being constructed on the back of your pre-game nachos. Your roommate collected and rated every clue you gave her regarding the Park Jimin mystery – of course only after she squealed for a good minute.

“No touching my stuff”, Jisoo scolds and knocks away your fidgeting hands. She added ten percent to your prediction because she upvoted him rescuing you – and staring at Jaehyung in frustration – way higher than his misjudgment of forgetting your name and face. Even thought you pointed out that Jimin was on a date clearly indicating he maybe isn’t even emotional available.

“Your stuff is on my body, though”, you argue as both of you walk to the frat house. Their house isn’t that far off campus but it still is a 20 minute walk. You’ve got your pepper spray with you this time even if you left your rape whistle at home. There are few students out this evening, tomorrow being Monday making most of them stay in tonight. Before you can take the last turn do that their house comes into view, there is a person calling your name from behind.

You look and see the sketchbook guy from your group project jogging towards you. Jisoo looks at you questionably, not recognizing him. There is suppressed anger on your face and you try really hard not to be too mean to the person who left you and Jimin waiting today.

“Yeah?”, you ask and look at the slightly out of breath guy now in front of you. He’s got a gym bag over his shoulders, his running shoes still on his feet.

“Good workout today?”, you add with slight sarcasm in your voice. There seems to be a slight issue in translation because he just smiles wider at you as he gives you a small bow.

“Thanks to you, of course”, he answers, and you are this close to hitting a person today.

“What?”, you hiss and try to control your anger. This useless excuse of a PoliSci major will not lower your standards. Now the guy looks at you with a puzzled expression on his face – clearly not expecting you to me so hostile.

“You know? Yo- you and Jimin offering to do the selecting and dividing by yourselves really helped me out today.” Come again?

“What?”, you repeat this time without venom in your voice. His face moves to the side as he musters you carefully.

“Uhm… Jimin called on Thursday… telling us not to bother coming on Sunday”, he explains slowly as if you’re the dumb one. Jimin did what?

“What?”, you ask for a third time and now he and Jisoo look at you with worry.

“He.. he.. I mean Jimin – he mentioned that you two were totally fine with doing it alone… Mina and I offered to finalize and proofread the presentation in return”, he continues and you are just confused. So, so confused.

Why would Jimin lie to them – and to you?

“Ehm.. I’m sorry…”, you look at him sheepishly. He seems to understand and adds “Wobin”.

“Yeah, right… Wobin… this is a huge misunderstanding … let me – uhm talk to Jimin”, you say, the confusion slowing down your word flow.

Wobin looks at Jisoo in question and she just shrugs. “You’re staying with her?”, he asks her and she nods. “We haven’t had that much to drink… I think she just needs a minute. Thanks tough, Wobin”, Jisoo calmly states and your partner leaves with an uncertain wave.

“_______?”, another voice joins – because why not make it a whole convention here on the sidewalk literarily five minutes away from your destination. You turn to the male voice and see non other than Jungkook walking towards you with hurried steps.

“Hmm?”, you answer, still reeling from the confession mere minutes ago.

“What are you doing out here alone by yourselves?”, he questions as he catches up. Jisoo is frozen next to you – even tough Jimin is without question the hottest guy at your university, Jungkook is by far the most dangerous. Combined, they are lethal.

“We were just on our way to your house”, you offer and point in the direction of the frat.

“Yeah, I get that”, he says, “but why are you out here alone?”

“You can see Jisoo, right?”, you ask, not sure of anything tonight and look at your roommate.

Jungkook scoffs and shakes his head – clearly not impressed.

“After last Wednesday you’re still walking around alone at night?”, he wants to know. Last Wednesday? Wait how does he know about that?

“Who told you?”

Now Jungkook looks as worried as Wobin before. “Jiminie told me? Hadn’t I stayed longer at practice I would have been with him when he found you.”

“Practice?”, you ask.

“Yeah,… we’re preparing a inprov show to celebrate the anniversary of the drama department, you know?”, he explains and adds after he sees your expression: “Hasn’t Jimin mentioned anything?”

No, Jimin did in fact not mention he wasn’t actually leaving from a date but a late-night practice that day.

“He has been wreaking havoc since that night”, Jungkook shares. “Every brother had to sign up to cover a shift patrolling common paths during school nights.”

Now, he points at himself. “Today is my night so I’ll escort you to our mansion.”

Jisoo just looks at him like he grew a second head.

“You’re pepping for an improvisation show?”, she asks slowly as the three of you begin to walk.

This is the thing Jisoo has a problem with? Really? You feel your head spin while you try to make sense of the last two encounters.

Jimin didn’t go on a date last Wednesday. Jimin himself uninvited your partners from todays meeting. You shared chocolates with a liar.

“Wait… Jungkook?”, you ask not even looking at him. “Do you guys get a lot of gifts after your performances?” The student just laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, we’re not allowed to anymore. The presents were getting out of hands. I mean… Seokjin-hyung even got a gold bar once, a fucking gold bar.”

You speed up your steps as you see the frat house in front of you, few people mingling around the entrance. There is a guy standing at the door and you’re trying to get your student ID out of the bag – your thoughts making your hands shake.

Jungkook comes up behind you and just shoves you inside, saluting the other guy with a cheeky grin. You don’t have much time taking in the décor, but you do notice how small the group of students are mingling around the living room. There is soft R&B playing from a stereo and you see the infamous reusable cups full of alcoholic mixtures.

And then you see Jimin, how ridged he is standing in front of the fireplace, bottled water in hand. His eyes zero in on you and the blooming smile quickly freezes when he notices your disheveled state. You step around some guys on the couch, making your way towards him. He places his water on the mantlepiece.

“______”, he greets you and you hear the tension in his voice. He knows, you know – maybe not how much, but Jungkook trailing behind you with a guilty look tells him that you know enough.

“Jimin”, you start, completely unsure which lie you should focus on, your brain jumping around in circles.

“______”, he whispers and takes a step closer to you.

“Jimin”, you try again to form a coherent sentence.

Before his lips meet yours in a shy confession, you think to yourself:

Maybe there is a 99 percent chance of Park Jimin being interested in you.

________

there is... no logical explanation for this story, other than me having war flashbacks while thinking about group projects at university. did you enjoy this oneshot? Please tell me if you find this Jimin as "perfect" as I did (apart from manipulating the OC). did/do you have similar experiences with group work? I always hated it. with a passion. thanks for reading and feel yourself hugged (if you want to) from, dana

#jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin fanfic #park jimin #bts x reader #bts fanfic #college jimin #jimin oneshot #jimin fluff #park jimin x reader #bts fluff #jimin imagines #bts college au

351 notes · View notes

sassyduckqueen · 3 years ago

Text

Miraculous: Rise of Anatis 63

And that's Kwami Buster. This was pretty fun to write so I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will be some OCs akumas so that will be fun :) anway, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :D

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Sixty-Three: Kwami Buster

Luka sighed as he sat on his bed, taking a deep breath and trying to keep a steady pace. He had woke up again from another nightmare. This time it had been the Mob Boss related one, causing him to wake up screaming. The Captain had rushed in and hugged him, telling him it was ok. He had been crying but calmed down after a while. The Captain had gone to get him a drink while he tried to calm his breathe. He jumped a little as she came back in and placed a water on his bedside. She sat on his bed and gave him a soft smile.

"Do you feel calmer?" She asked, causing him to nod in reply as he picked up the water and downed half of it. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was just about Mob Boss again," He replied, putting the glass down on his side table before bringing his knees up and hugging them. "...You don't hate me, do you?..."

"Of course, I don't, lad," Anarka gasped, moving closer and hugging him. "I love you so don't ever think otherwise,"

"R-right," He nodded, giving her a weak smile as he returned her hug. "I love you too, Ma,"

She gently rubbed his back and placed a kiss on his head.

"Do you want to try and get back to sleep?" She asked, making him nod. She gave him a smile and gently placed another kiss on his head before leaving his room. He waited for a few minutes before he heard her watching tv again before he jumped up as Tikki flew out. He transformed and climbed onto the roof before catching the akuma that Hawkmoth had sent for him before sitting down and waiting for the rest that would come. After two hours, he caught another one before letting out a sigh and waiting for another ten minutes. No more came, causing him to let a sigh of relief before he released the butterflies he had caught. They flew off but one of them landed on his nose, making him smile a little before it flew off. At least, he knew the butterflies themselves weren't evil. Just like the akumatized, they were tools for Hawkmoth to use. He jumped down and slid through the window, detransform as soon as he did. He caught Tikki and walked over to her little bed, setting her on it before he went into his draw and took out a cookie for her.

"Thank you," She smiled as he stretched. "Are you gonna try to sleep now?"

"I should, shouldn't I?" He replied as she ate the cookie. He climbed back into the bed and curled up as Tikki continued eating her cookie. Hopefully with the summer holidays coming up, he would be able to take some time to relax. Maybe even catch up on some much needed sleep. He yawned to himself before curling up and closing his eyes, drifting in a dreamless sleep.

~Next Day at School~

"Ok, Class!" Mrs Mendevileve shouted, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. Luka looked up from his notepad as she waited for everyone to look at her. "As I said at the beginning of class, I have an announcement to make. This Thursday Afternoon coming, your usual class with me will be covered by Mr Damocles as I have applied to be on the show Alternative Truth and my application was accepted. Now I expect you all to be on your best behaviour understood?"

"Yes, Mrs Mendevlieve," The class chanted as the bell rang, signaling lunch time. Luka got up and grabbed his bag, opening it and putting his books inside. Tikki was curled up inside snoozing, making him smile softly. He closed his bag and walked out of the room before Marc rushed over to him.

"H-Hey, Luka... um can I j-join you for lunch?" He asked, looking at his hands. "N-Nathaniel's at the d-dentist today so I was hoping I could sit with you and Marinette... if that's ok?"

"Of course, Marc," Luka smiled, making the shyer boy smile as they walked over off the room. "H-How's things going?"

"They're ok," Luka replied, making him looking at him. "What about you?"

"Ok I guess," Marc replied, playing with his hands again. "I... I was wondering something..."

"What's up?" He asked, looking at him. He felt more jumpy than usual.

"I... I'm thinking of going to therapy for my anxiety..." Marc muttered, looking down. "I... I hope you don't me asking you actually. I know you don't know me too well compared to Marinette and Nathaniel but... you've always been really nice to me and you seem wise so I was hoping for... advice?"

Luka looked at Marc in surprise, causing him to gasp and look down.

"T-That was stupid," He muttered, frowning. "I shouldn't have asked-"

"Oh, no... no, it's not stupid at all," Luka smiled, making Marc looking up at him. "Honestly, I think that if you think therapy can help with your anxiety then you should definitely try it out but it can be rough as well so be prepared for that,"

"R-Really?" He gasped, looking at Luka. "T-Thank you... I think I want to but... I don't know... maybe I'm overthinking things... urg and now I'm projecting onto you... I'm sorry..."

"It's fine," Luka smiled as they reached the canteen. Marinette was already sat there with the rest of their friends. Luka smiled and waved back as she waved at them before he turned to Marc. "If you want, I could ask my therapist about how ways for you to get help with your anxiety,"

"R-Really? You would do that?" Marc asked, looking at Luka with surprise. He gave Marc a soft smile and nodded, causing the younger boy to grin. "Yes! That would be great. Thank you,"

"I haven't done anything-" Luka started but Marc shook his head.

"Y-You have," He replied, glancing at his hands. "For one, you don't judge me and you listen to me. You didn't laugh at me either. I tried to bring it up to my dad and he kind of laughed at me. He isn't a bad man but he doesn't understand the whole mental health thing. He's of the opinion that men shouldn't cry and well... I'm not a typical 'man' as you can probably tell... I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"It's ok, Marc," Luka smiled as he picked out his food. "Juleka rambles a lot when she gets nervous... but I think it's brave that you want to tackle your anxiety,"

"Thanks," Marc smiled as they grabbed their trays and sat down with the others. "C-Could I also watch the next show you guys play? I r-really want to go to a concert but..."

"It's too much?" Luka asked, causing him to nod. "Well, we would love to have you at one of our shows. I'm not sure when we're next playing though.... but well, we could do something during the summer holidays,"

"Oh yeah... that would be great," Marc smiled as he sat down. Marinette gave them a smile as they sat down and began to eat before the group began to talk about their summer plans. Luka just listened in and occasionally put in a bit of insight or suggestions. He knew he wouldn't be able to make too many plans with his commitment to be a hero but they didn't need to know that. Felix let out a sigh and explained he would be going back to London for a few weeks while Kagami mentioned she might have to visit Japan for a week if her father had time. Luka couldn't help but frown a little as she had never mentioned her father before and he didn't exactly have fond memories of her mother. Mostly because he had been eaten by her when she was Ikari Gozen. While it didn't haunt his nightmares, it still freaked him out but mostly because she had been part car. Still he had been rescued and it's not like he could tell Kagami that it was him who got eaten. As far as she was aware, it was Anatis but still it counted. He mused to himself as he ate his lunch. He hadn't thought about it during Miracle Queen's attack or that day at all but he never thought he would be eaten by a giant centuror or swing around Paris on a yoyo. It was really quite amazing what he could do as Anatis... yet his connection with Feng haunted him and the old mage wasn't much help as he had seen him, he didn't exactly say much. He hoped that changed soon. He jumped a little as he felt someone poke his cheek. Marinette grinned at him as he looked at her.

"You zoned out..." She stated, making him blink before he chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Sorry... was thinking about things," He replied, making her give him an endearing smile. He blushed a little at her gaze. "What did I miss?"

"Nino's has a DJing gig lined up," She replied, making him smile. "We're all invited,"

"Awesome," He smiled, turning to the fellow musician. "That's wicked, dude. Well done,"

"Thanks, Bro," He grinned, gleaming under Luka's praise. "I'm extremely excited but nervous,"

"I bet," Luka nodded. "But you'll be great,"

"Luka's right, Nino," Adrien grinned, making him smile even more. "I'll try and get my dad to let me go but I'm sure I can... come to the wrong address again,"

"I can cover for you, depending on if I'm able to avoid Japan," Kagami added in, making Adrien nod. "Does anyone have any other plans for the summer?"

"Not really," Alya replied, poking her food with her fork. "Apart from babysitting that is,"

"Me and Ivan will be going to some protests for environmental changes," Mylene added in, making people nod. They continued to talk about their plans until the bell rang. Luka said his goodbyes to the others and headed to the library for a free period. He took out his books and read up on his studies as Tikki stayed with him. However, he happened to glance up at the right time, causing him to see a black blur fly by. He frowned and opened his bag, causing Tikki to look up with concern.

"I just saw a black blur flying by," He stated, making her blink before an annoyed expression came onto her face. "Tikki?"

"It's Plagg!" She gasped, making him frown. "A large wheel of cheese has been appearing in the science lab every day for the last week. I told him off last week when I saw him go by during your gym lesson but I guess that stinky sock keeps on eating it,"

"What?!" He gasped, standing up and clearing up his books before he rushed into the science lab. He burst through the door and crossed his arms as soon as he saw Plagg eating. He looked up as he was able to take another bite. Tikki flew out and minicked Luka's pose.

"Luka! Sugarcube!" He grinned, making the two frown. "How nice to see you!"

"You said you were going to quit!" She gasped, making him chuckle.

"How could I?!" He gasped, hugging the cheese. "I can't resist such irresistible beauty!"

"Plagg, you could have been seen," Luka pointed out, walking over. "What if someone thought Lady Noir went to this school?"

"What?! Nooo! She doesn't!!" He gasped, making Luka raise an eyebrow. "I swear,"

"You're a terrible liar," He stated, gently flicking Plagg's nose lightly. "But for the sake of not wanting to know her identity, I'm going to ignore that,"

"Look, I'm sorry. It just smells so good!" He gasped, making Luka sigh. "It's magic cheese!"

"It's obviously a trap!" Tikki gasped, making Luka pinch his nose before he picked up Plagg and held him.

"Plagg, you are not to visit this every again," He stated in a serious manner. "If you do, I will get Lady Noir to feed you nothing but mild cheddar. Got it?"

"You wouldn't!" He gasped but Luka gave him a look, making him gasp again as he realized he was serious. "Ok! Ok! You have my word but can I finish this slice?!"

"No, you need to return to Lady Noir," Luka replied, making Plagg sigh but he knew the boy was right. He flew up and sighed, looking back at Luka with a sad expression but Luka crossed his arms and gave him a look. "Go,"

"Alright, alright," He gasped, flying off through the wall. As soon as he was gone, Luka and Tikki let out a sigh and walked out of the classroom. As soon as they were out of sight, Mrs Mendelieve moved out from under her desk, clutching her net. She had intended to capture the creatures but she had no idea that Luka had known who they were but apparently he did. Now that she knew the black cat was associated with Lady Noir, it made sense. It was a known fact that Luka was friends with Anatis but... well... she had never seen him and Anatis in the same room together. No one had and now she thought about it, they did look very similar but surely she would know if her student was the superhero... right?

~Thursday Afternoon~

"Mr Damocles!!" Alya gasped, standing up as he looked at her. "Can you confirm rumors that Mrs Mendeleiev isn't here today because she'll be appearing on the alternative truth TV show?"

"Where everything isn't always truth," Kim gasped, standing up and making a tick sign with his arms. "But nothing's really false!"

He moved his arms into a cross position as Mr Damocles shook his head.

"It may be truth that she discovered a scientific discovery of utter most importance," He replied, making the class gasp before they asked if they could watch the show, making Alix facepalm.

"My brother is one of the guests as well," She muttered as Mr Damocles agreed and had them move to the Library. They cheered and got up, heading to there as they discussed what she might have found. Marinette couldn't help but smile a little as she walked with Alya. She glanced over as she walked inside and saw Luka sat at the table, doing his homework. As if on cue, he looked up and gave her a smile with a small wave. She smiled back and walked over.

"What's your class doing here?" He asked as Mr Damocles came in and set up a tv.

"We're watching Alternative truth," She explained, making him nod. "Why don't you watch it as well?"

"I should focus on my homework," He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "But... A few minutes won't hurt,"

"Ok!" She grinned as she sat on the ground near him. Alya sat next to her as the show began. Kim naturally quoted the slong as Alec did before Mrs Mendeleiev was welcomed on. He excitedly pointed her out, making Luka smile a little as Mr Damocles told him to sit down. Alec explained the rules of the show. All Mrs Mendeleiev had to do was convince the panel of experts that her theory was real. Though Marinette and Luka weren't sure if you could call XY, Mr Banana and Manon experts on science. However, he was interested now so he looked up as she cleared her throat.

"What you are about to witness is proof of the existence of interdimensional beings with incredible powers," She stated, making Luka bit his lip. Of course, she had set up the cheese. "Who can move through matter and seem to be attracted to aged cheese,"

Luka frowned deeply as he continued to watch. This was not good.

"I discovered the first of these creatures just before the christmas holidays," She explained, making Luka feel even more pale. "I soon discovered a second creature not long after the akuma Reflekta attacked. Since then I have been observing them closely. Now for my proof. Watch,"

She gestured to the video on screen, showing her observing a plate of cheese by hiding in a cupboard. It appeared nothing was happening.

"You can't see the creature itself as they're not filmable but right now, it is eating the cheese while the second creature tries to get it to leave the cheese alone," She explained before walking over to the screen as it zoomed into the cheese. "But look right there! You can see the cheese been eaten over time,"

She walked back over to the stand and turned to the screen again.

"Given that I was unable to capture these creatures on film, I've mades sketches of them, to give you an idea of what they look like," She declared, showing the images. Despite that they were badly drawn, it was quite obvious that it was suppose to be Plagg and Tikki. A number of the students watching looked pale, recognizing them as kwamis before Chloe cleared her throat with a nervous look. Luka just stared at the screen in surprise.

"What even are those suppose to be?" She asked, looking around and hoping that someone else got the idea. Luckily, Max did and pushed up his glasses.

"I doubt this show is scientific at all," He replied as Marinette got up and carefully slipped out. She made her way quickly to the bathroom and locked the cubical before opening her purse. Plagg flew out with a look of shame.

"Plagg, that was really irresponsible!" She gasped, making him look down. He wanted to justify it but he knew she was right. "You could have been captured,"

"I'm sorry, dollface," He mumbled, playing with his paws as she held out her hand. He floated over and sat on them. "But at least we can't be seen on film and we can fly through through things,"

He looked up to see if it had helped but Marinette looked upset.

"Why didn't you tell me you were hungry?" She gasped, shaking her head. She was blaming herself. "I could have gotten you extra cheese,"

"I.. I wasn't really... I was just been greedy..." He admitted, looking down. Marinette's eyes soften a little. "I really am sorry. I owe Sugarcube an apology too. She was right as usual and tried to stop me... as usual, I didn't listen..."

"Sugarcube?" She asked before it clicked. "As in Tikki?"

He nodded.

"So it really was her... but that means..." Her eyes widen as she realized. "Wait a sec! If Tikki was there too then that means she was here in the school, which means Anatis is a student at this school... just like me?!"

"Whaat?! Nooo!!" Plagg gasped, flying up. "Sugarcube has like a second sense when I get into trouble so she just followed it! That's all!"

"Plagg... you're a terrible liar," She stated, making him frown. "But I know if I try to work out who Anatis is, I'll have to give up been Lady Noir and I don't want that. I know Master Fu will find a replacement but I don't want to leave Annie alone so I won't try to find out who he is,"

~Back to Luka~

"It's time for our jury to vote and tell us if they think the theories are true or false!" Alec shouted as Kim did the same before he sat down as Mr Damocles stared at him. Luka was hoping they would vote her theory as false and that would be the end of it. Alec walked over to Alix's brother, causing Kim to point him as Alix groaned in embassassment. "Jalil Kubdel hypothesized that pyramids are in fact alien spaceships that came down to earth because they ran out of gas. What do you think?"

The panel's lights turned green, meaning he had won.

"Our jury has been convinced," He stated, turning to the camera. "Jalil succeeds!"

"Whoa! Your brother's won! Awesome!" Kim gasped as he shouted true or false. Alix looked over with an expression of sheer embarrassment before giving a thumbs up to Kim. The next contestant got two out of three votes, meaning they had won and then finally it was Mrs Mendeleiev's turn. She looked at the panel with a stern look as Alec read out her theory. However, none of the panel thought it was true. Luka silently let out a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Mendelieve but your fake video footage failed to convince our panel," Alec declared, walking over to the panel as Mr Banana told her to stay Peachy.

"It wasn't fake I swear!" She gasped as a security guard walked over to lead her from the stage. "This is an authentic, major scientific discovery!"

"You're welcome to come back when you've captured your cheese eating creatures," Alec laughed, making Luka frown. He never understood why he had to be mean about it. However, Mrs Mendevlieve ripped her arm from the security guard.

"Wait! I have a witness!" She called out, making the camera turn to her. "One of my students interacted with these creatures just the other day! He knows they are real! Just ask him! His name is Luka!"

However, the panel ignored her and the security guard pulled out as Luka stared at the screen with shock as the show ended. He quickly got up and left the room before anyone could question him, heading to the bathroom. He quickly rushed past the lockers, failing to notice Marinette walking out of the girls room before he headed into the bathroom, locking a cubical. Tikki flew out as he held his head in his hands.

"I should have known she was in there!" He gasped, looking up at Tikki. "Now people might work I'm Anatis! Oh no! Hawkmoth might work it out! Tikki, we need to be ready in case! Spots on!"

He transformed into Anatis before sighing. His yoyo vibrated, making him take it out before he watched the video, discovering that Mrs Mendeleiev had become akumatized. She was demanding Anatis show himself with his kwami and to bring Luka as a witness with a wicked smirk on her face. If they didn't turn up, she would drop the vault that had the show host, Alec, trapped inside. It was obvious that Hawkmoth and her suspected that he was the same person and know it would be impossible for him to show up as both Anatis and Luka but he had to find a way too.

"This is bad..." He muttered, frowning to himself. "I need to work out a plan to convince her and everyone that I'm not Anatis..."

He shook his head and exited the window, heading to the TV studio. He got there as she threw the vault of the building, causing him to throw his yoyo and wrap it around the vault, stopping it from failing. He yanked it up, causing it to land on the roof. He spun open the lock and opened the door, releasing Alec who rushed out as Lady Noir landed on top of the vault.

"Turns out the answer was true," She grinned. "Annie defies the law of science,"

"Anatis is secretly the student rockstar Luka Couffaine... true or false?" Kwami Buster asked, smirking.

"False," Lady Noir stated, making her blink. Anatis knew she was lying but she was also trying not to believe it or confirm that it was true. "I've seen Mr Couffaine and Annie together so sorry but you and Hawkmoth are wrong,"

"Then I'll just take your kwamis and see who's under the mask," Kwami Buster declared, firing an beam at them. The two of them dived away and dodged her attacks before throwing their own weapons towards her. She dodged them and fired at them again. "Back off, kids! I'm a scientist!"

"Yet you chose to go on a TV show that isn't run by authentic scientists!" Anatis shot back, diving behind a pillar as Lady Noir dived behind an air vent. "I hope your kwami has learnt his lesson,"

"Oh he has," She gasped, making him nod. "I'm sorry for his actions though. I hope you and Tikki are ok,"

"We're fine," He smiled, throwing his yoyo out. Kwami Buster dodged it and fired at him. He jumped back as she missed before she fired at a pole, breaking it. It fell towards him, forcing him to move. With him distracted, she fired at him and caught him in the beam. "So Kwamis don't exist huh?! Well, here's the proof!"

"Anatis!" Lady Noir called out as he tried to back away and resist. He could feel the beam pulling on him and he felt Tikki been yanked out of his earrings. He dove to the side as she got ripped out, hiding behind the vents as Lady Noir gasped. "Annie!"

"I'm ok but don't come over here!" He called out, making her frown and dodge as Kwami Buster fired towards her. He glanced around, hoping for a solution but without Tikki, nothing lit up. He looked around the corner and gasped as Kwami Buster began to walk over to him. However, Lady Noir summoned her power and used it on one of the billboards, causing to almost land on Kwami Buster before getting her attention so she was more focused on firing at her. Luka crawled under the debris and out of the fire escape. He would have to thank her later. He rushed down the fire escape stairs and out of one, glancing up at the roof as Lady Noir dodged and engaged Kwami Buster. He let out a sigh and ran off as fast as he could to Master Fu's.

~Back on the roof~

Lady Noir jumped around, dodging the beams of Kwami Buster as she distracted her, hoping Anatis got away. She knew he would go to Fu's and get help. Her mind kept flicking to the idea of Luka and Anatis been the same person but she pushed it back and ignored it even if it did make sense. She jumped up on a beam and spun around as Kwami Buster fired at her. She went to run off but Kwami Buster fired at her again and again, revealing she had trapped her on there.

"Now I'm gonna seize your kwami, cat! Truth or False?" She declared as she fired at her, capturing her in her beam. Lady Noir groaned and tried to pull back but she could feel Plagg been ripped from her ring. Seeing a crane bucket, she dived into it as Plagg got sucked from her. She let out a sigh of relief as she looked around and found the controls as Kwami Buster moved over to her. She pressed it, sending the bucket down. She climbed out and under the debris before escaping out of the fire exit. She rushed down the stairs and into the building, looking for a room to hide in. She opened a door and hid inside as she heard kwami buster coming down the stairs. She glanced around the dressing room before coming across a leather jacket, Mr Banana's suit and a domino mask. She took out her pigtails and turned them into a single plait before taking the yellow leggings out of Mr Banana's suit and putting them off. She put the leather jacket on and zipped it then added the mask, tying it over her face. She grabbed Mr Banana's boots and put them on before looking out of the door. She didn't look too similar to Marinette but she just had to hope no one who knew her saw her. She carefully made her way outside of the room and to the exit.

~At Master Fu's~

"Master!" Luka gasped as he burst through the door, causing Master Fu to sit up. "Tikki's been captured and Hawkmoth might work out my identity!"

"You're aware of the consequences of that," He stated, making Luka nod.

"I know!" He gasped as Master Fu got up and took out the miraculous box. "But I'm gonna fix it and save Tikki,"

"I know you will," Master Fu replied, taking out the box and placing in front of Luka before he opened it, causing the drawers to pop out as Luka glanced at them. Almost instantly, the fox and the mouse lit up as a plan began to form in his mind. Kwami Buster lured him there because she knew he couldn't be in two places at once but what if he could. "Luka Couffaine, you must pick a miraculous. Only this time, you wouldn't be giving to someone else. You will wear it yourself until you can get Tikki back,"

Luka nodded and began taking out all of them, putting them on as Master Fu gasped.

"What are you doing?" He asked as Luka placed the circlet on his head, causing it to turn into a thin headband as he added the others. "I know you've merged miraculous before but merging this many could drive you insane,"

"Don't worry, Master," Luka smiled as he slid on the snake bracelet, freeing Sass before placing the mouse miraculous around his neck. It turned into an amber donut amulet as he clipped in the goat's hair clips. "I only need the mouse's power. I'm just wearing the others to free the Kwamis. I need their help for this plan,"

He put the last of the miraculous on before standing up.

"Mullo! Get Squeaky!" He declared, causing Mullo to get sucked into the necklace. It lit up and turned black with pink mice on it before he did a backflip, creating his outfit which was gray bodysuit with dark gray sides. He threw his arm to the side, creating his gloves that were black with pink rims. The pink light created his boots that were black with pink heels. He moved his hands over his hair, turning into gray with pink highlights before moving his arms downwards over his face, creating his mask, which was pink and gray with a black trim. He caught the pink energy in his hands, creating a jump rope. He jumped over it a couple of times before it turned into his belt, completing his look. "And now I'm Mousekin,"

He walked over to the window and opened it before stumbling and gasping a little as he fell to the ground. Master Fu looked at him with worry.

"Are you sure about this, Luka?" He asked, frowning as Mousekin pushed himself back up.

"If I don't then who will defeat Kwami Buster and help Lady Noir?" He asked, looking to Master Fu. "To capture her akuma, I need to get my Ladybug powers back first so I need to save Tikki. To that, I'm gonna let myself get captured. Kwami Buster wants Kwamis so she can have them. She won't think anyone else will be able to get inside her backpack so she won't be expecting it. I call it the trojan kwami move,"

"That's very clever," Master Fu nodded. "But how are you gonna pull it?"

"That's why I need the mouse," He replied, taking out the jump rope. He jumped over it before spinning the rope around him and throwing it into the air. "Multitude!"

The rope wrapped around him and glowed, disappearing into his boots that lit up. Slowly, he got smaller as he divided into a number of mini versions of himself. He walked over to one of them and took the fox miraculous off, handing it to the other mouse. He took it and put it on before holding out his hand.

"Mullo! Trixx!" He called out, placing his hands together. "Unify!"

The pink and dark gray on his outfit turned orange as a flute appeared on his back. An orange triangle appeared below his collar on his neck, showing the fox miraculous hanging there and he gained an orange trim on his boots. The pink highlights turned orange as well as did his jump rope. He jumped onto the miracle box as the original mouse gave one of the others the snake miraculous and whispered something to him, getting a nod of him.

"And now I'm Foxkin," He declared, grinning before he turned to the Kwamis and the rest of the Micekin. They nodded at him before climbing into a number of the kwami's mouths as Fluff flew over to him. He jumped into her mouth, causing them to fly off as Master Fu looked worried.

"If Anatis fails this time, Hawkmoth will get all of the miraculous," He declared, closing the window.

"He has never failed,"

~Back at the Studios~

Marinette ran and dodged Kwami Buster's beam as she chased her before she jumped over and grabbed her arm, causing to her struggle as she tried to pull her arm from her grip. Kwami Buster smirked and went to grab her ring, making Marinette panic.

"Charge!" A male voice declared, causing the women to look over as a number of Kwamis charged towards them. Kwami Buster let go of her, causing her to fall on the ground as she began to fire at the kwamis and chase them. Marinette let out a sigh before one of the kwamis flew over. She recognized them as Sass and Long, causing her to raise an eyebrow as Sass opened his mouth and revealed a small boy sat inside. He resembled Anatis but also looked a little different.

“Annie?” Marinette asked as she looked at the tiny boy sat in Sass’ mouth. He had pink and gray hair and wore a simple gray boy suit with black sides, black boots and black gloves with a pink trim . His mask was gray and pink with a black outline. He gave her a soft smile before shaking his head.

“No, I’m Mousekin,” He replied, making her blink. “Anatis asked me to help out. One of my brothers will need your ring for our plan to work,”

“Brothers?” She asked as a kwami she recognized as Longg flew over. It opened its mouth, revealing another boy identical to the current one. “You’re twins?”

“Nope, he’s me and I’m him. The mouse gave the original me the power to split into multiple versions of myself. Only we’re small,” The original one replied. Or she thought he was the original one. He might not be. He jumped out of Sass’ mouth and landed on the desk as his brother did the same thing. She blinked before taking her hand out of the costume and looking at her ring. As if sensing her hesitation, the little mouse boy gently put his hand on her costume. “I promise I only want to help you and Anatis,”

“Alright,” She replied, taking her ring off and passing it to the other mouse boy. He smiled and moved it over his head so he was wearing it.

“Don’t worry, Lady Noir. I’ll get your kwami back,” He replied before turning to the other one. “You remember the plan right?”

“Of course,” The original mouse boy smiled as the other one nodded and jumped back into Longg's mouth before he turned back to her. “We need to go and meet Anatis on the roof but first,”

He took off a bracelet and held it out to her. It was the size of a ring but the moment she took it off him, it turned back to it’s real size. She blinked as she realized that it was the snake miraculous.

“Anatis thought it would be a good idea to have you use that,” He stated, making her blink. "He said the transformation words are Sass, Scales Slither,"

"Alright," She replied, slipping it on. It turned in a rose gold bracelet with an infinity symbol in the middle. She held up her arm and turned to Sass. "Sass! Scales Slither!!"

Sass got sucked into the bracelet, charging it up before she spun around, causing her hair. to turn into a long plait. Unlike her Lady Noir form, it was loose and the top part resembled a cobra's hood. She had a silver bead at the end of it, sealing the braid. It was dark green in color and faded into dark teal. She swiped her hand across her face, creating her mask that resembled a snake before she held up her hands, causing a teal light to move across her body, creating her outfit. She wore a teal blue suit with dark green and teal green details. She had thigh high boots with diamond details on them and she had large yellow diamonds on her hips. She had a thin belt around her waist and her gloves were just over her elbows. Her eyes were snake like and her lyre appeared on her hip, completing the look. She leaned down to Mousekin and gave him a smile.

"How do I look?" She asked as he looked up at her.

"Very pretty," He smiled, making her blush a little. "What do you want me to call you?"

"Call me Queen Cobra," She replied, holding out his hand. He climbed on it and she moved her hand to her shoulder. He climbed on and sat on it, holding onto her hair as she ran over to the fire escape. They rushed upstairs but stopped outside of the door. "So what's the plan, Mousekin?"

"The mouse with your miraculous needs to get captured but we need to stay hidden," He replied as they opened the door and peeked out. "If Kwami Buster sees you, she'll try and capture the snake kwami, which will reveal you but we need to make sure she doesn't win hence the snake's ability. Anatis said it's a save point,"

"It is. Second chance," She replied, flicking it. "We now have five minutes,"

"Ok," Mousekin nodded as they slipped outside. However, Kwami Buster fired at them and caught them. Queen Cobra managed to flicker the bracelet back before Sass got captured, making her frown as she returned back to the moment before. She tried a different way but Kwami Buster caught them again, causing her to flick back her bracelet again before she frowned."Something wrong?"

"We almost got captured twice," She replied, making him frown. "She sees us straight away,"

"Hang on," He replied, pressing his hand to ear. "Any Micekin listening, can you provide a distraction? Me and Queen Cobra need to get pass Kwami Buster,"

"On it!" One of them replied, causing him to jump down and rush out. Seeing Kwami Buster facing away from them as a number of kwamis flew around her, he waved to Queen Cobra, causing her to rush out. He also made a mental note of the helicopter that was filming the fight. The two of them hid behind a vent and looked out.

"Good job, Mousekin," She smiled as she picked him back up and placed him back on his shoulder. He nodded and kept a lookout, smiling a little as he saw Long get captured. The trojan Kwami was in place.

~Inside Kwami Buster's Weapon~

"It looks like your owner has failed us, Tikki," Plagg gasped as the other kwamis appeared inside. "We're doomed,"

Longg and Pollen flew over, making them look at them before they opened their mouth, revealing two of the Micekin. Plagg gasped in surprise as they jumped out.

"Anatis?!" He asked in surprise as they looked up at him.

"I told you my owner is the best!" Tikki grinned, proud of his plan.

"I'd never abandon you, Tikki," He smiled as the other one nodded. He turned to him. "Ready for the next part?"

"Sure," He replied, holding out his hands. "Plagg! Mullo! Unify!"

He joined his hands together as his outfit gained green where the pink and dark gray was and two cat ears appeared on his head before the other Mousekin held out his hands.

"Tikki, Mullo!" He called out, moving his hands together. "Unify!"

Like his other selves, he gained red where the dark gray and pink was before black spots appeared across the rest of his suit. Catkin looked at him, getting a nod of him before holding out his hand.

"Cataclysm!" He declared, charging up his hand before placing it against the inner wall of the container. It cracked it before it blew up, freeing the akuma and the kwamis. Catkin and Bugkin climbed back into the mouths of Longg and Pollen before they flew out. Bugkin jumped down, along with the other micekin as they saw the akuma flutter up. He threw his yoyo in the air, summoning a lucky charm which was a small bowl. It flew and landed on the akuma, trapping it as the other kwamis and micekin held it down. Mrs Mendelieve looked around confused as Longg flew over to Queen Cobra. Catkin jumped down and ran over to her, turning back to his normal form as the mousekin on her shoulder jumped back down. He took off the ring and held it out to her. "Your ring as promised,"

"Thank you, mysterious mousekin," She smiled, taking it and putting it back on before the two of them ran back over to the others.

"Foxkin, can you hear me?" Bugkin asked, causing Foxkin to over from the vent and gave him a thumbs up. "Phase 3,"

"Got it," He replied, taking out the flute and holding it to his mouth. He played the tune, creating the ball of light before he threw it. "Mirage!"

A few seconds later, Queen Cobra looked up as Plagg sat on her shoulder as Anatis landed back on the roof, making her smile. He knelt down as Mousekin walked over to him.

"Great job, Mousekin. Thanks to you, we got our kwamis back," He smiled before looking over at Queen Cobra. "You took my suggestion I see,"

"It really helped," Mousekin replied as Queen Cobra grinned.

"Awesome job boys!" She yelled out, making them both smile before Anatis stood up and released the akuma. He threw his yoyo and captured it before freeing the purified version. He picked up the bowl and threw it up in the air, releasing the cure and fixing everything as Queen Cobra came over, making sure for Mrs Mendeleiev to hear her as Mousekin reformed into his full size. "I'm sorry my kwami headed to that middle school, Annie. I don't know why he did but I'll keep a better eye on him,"

"It's ok, Lady Noir," He smiled. "Would you mind taking the teacher back? I need to get Mousekin's miraculous,"

"Oh right, you need this," He gasped, taking it off and turning back into Luka, causing Queen Cobra and Mrs Mendelieve to gasp in surprise. Anatis looked at him with a surprised expression. "Did I do something wrong?"

"You weren't suppose to take it off yet," He replied, making Luka frown. "I normally take it back after we've left the scene... especially since..."

He glanced up at the helicopter in the sky. Luka frowned as he saw it before sighing.

"I'm sorry," He replied as Anatis placed his hand on his shoulder.

"We all make mistakes, Luka," He stated, making the boy nod. "But this means I can never give you a miraculous again,"

"Right," Luka replied, nodding as Anatis turned to Queen Cobra.

"Lady... I mean... Queen Cobra... I'll get Luka back home if you can get Mrs Mendeleiev safe,"

"Of course," She nodded, turning to the teacher as she turned to Luka.

"So you're not Anatis?" She asked, making him shake his head. "I see... well, would you three be willing to testify that I really did make a discovery?"

"We can't," Anatis replied, making her frown. "The Kwamis are how we get our powers. Revealing their existence to the world would help Hawkmoth,"

"Oh!" She gasped, frowning. "I didn't think of that... I'm sorry. I put you and my student in danger. I'll keep your secret,"

"Thank you," He replied before swinging off with Luka. Queen Cobra lead Mrs Mendeleiev out of the building and the helicopter flew off, seeing the fight was over. Foxkin waited for a few minutes before he carefully walked over, tired from the merges before swiping his flute across the illusion.

"Reality!" He declared, making all the damage and the other micekins appear with the lucky charm. He remerged all of them and turned back to Anatis before catching the akuma and releasing the cure for real this time. The kwamis cheered around him before he dived off the building and headed to Master Fu's while keeping an eye out for Lady Noir.

~Hawkmoth's Lair~

"Breaking news, an ally of Anatis was revealed to be none other then Luka Couffaine, son of Rockstar Jagged Stone," Nadja Chumack declared, showing footage of Anatis and Luka in the same place. Gabriel frowned as he turned it off. He was so sure he had discovered Anatis' real identity but there was no way for the two boys to appear in the same place as far as he knew but at least, he could cross Mr Couffaine off his list of who Anatis was.

"One day, Anatis, I will discover who you are," He growled, glaring at the dark screen. "You and Lady Noir will fall to me and I shall have my wish!"

~At Master Fu's~

"Lady Noir returned the snake miraculous," Master Fu replied as Luka put back the other miraculous. "Your plan was well thought out but are you feeling ok?"

"A little tired but otherwise ok," He replied, looking up as he closed the box. "Lady Noir and my identity are safe. As far as Paris and Hawkmoth will be concerned, Luka is the holder of the mouse miraculous or at least, he was and I think Plagg has learn his journey. As for me and Lady Noir, we won't be looking into each other's identity. We know the rules,"

"Yes, she said something similar," He replied, smiling. "Clearly, you two are the best choice for the Ladybug and the black cat. I'm glad that I don't have to take away your miraculous. You know there is no miraculous owner in all of history has been mentally or physically strong enough to wear that many miraculous at one time,

"Really?"

"Yes, you are truly something else, Luka," He smiled, making Luka play with his hands in a shy manner. "Now why don't we talk about something more fun? Do you have plans for the summer holidays?"

"Well.. actually... I do,"

------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter: Coming soon

18 notes · View notes

byulsgrease · 3 years ago

Text

"I think it means we really need to study for this exam."

Procrastination at its finest. (solar x reader, college au, ~430 words)

ok so my one irl friend with a link to this blog dared me to incorporate "coniferous forests release terpenes as a defense mechanism but can increase cloud cover in the atmosphere by a factor of 2" into a fic bc she is a huge nerd, so this... is the result. if y'all ever have dialogue prompts feel free to send them in cuz this was fun :')

Scrolling through each other's respective TikTok "For You" pages did nothing but delay progress on studying for the environmental sciences exam the next day. You and Yongsun lay on the floor of your dorm room, textbooks and notebooks strewn about, but the curiosity of how your algorithmically curated content differed begged discovery. Besides, it was only 9pm. Plenty of time, right?

Yongsun nudged you with her foot, getting you to break eye contact with her phone screen to stare at yours in her hand. "Look at this, should we try it?" The sound emanating from your phone and the text on the screen said the same thing: "Grab your nearest book, turn to page 30, and it will describe your love life!!"

Your eyes narrowed and lips pursed into a look of sheer unbelief. "There's no way you can expect that to actually be accurate," you retorted. But par for the course for her to believe in "fate" or whatever, and lately she kept searching for signs that she had a chance with the class player, Moon Byulyi, who seldom gave Yongsun the time of day.

"I'm gonna try it anyway!" she trumpeted, absolutely sold on the idea. Eyeroll.

"Uh... we have no other books besides our textbooks," you pointed out. The desire to read for pleasure in college certainly vanished with all the school-assigned reading, neither of you had picked up a novel in months.

She conceded a little. "Okay, fair. But I'm still gonna do it!" Couldn't fault her for the raw determination.

Sitting up to lean over and pick up your hardcover textbook, she flipped to page 30 and recited the first line: "Coniferous forests release terpenes as a defense mechanism but can increase cloud cover in the atmosphere by a factor of 2." Trying not to laugh, you heard a guffaw escape your lips without warning. You were right about this not amounting to anything. "What do you think that means...?" inquired Yongsun, still completely serious about a forest fact predicting her love life.

Sighing deeply, you turned your head to her. "I think it means we really need to study for this exam, because I have no clue what that line even means in context. Do you?"

A bit annoyed, her eyes narrowed, knowing full well you were right. "...no, I don't."

"Let's get to it then. Maybe it'll reveal ~ the meaning ~," lightly taunting her earlier question. That unadulterated look of determination returned to her face as you both finally opened your notebooks to study, Yongsun fueled by a newfound motivation.

15 notes · View notes

harrysgoldrush · 4 years ago

Text

chapter 2: styles v vegan contract

masterlist

tag list

part 1

Y/N Y/LN.

In her final year of law school and already planning on getting her LLM in Environmental Law and Politics. A true force to be reckoned with. Tom had told him that much the moment he closed the office door behind him.

Tom’s office was one of the bigger advisor’s offices on campus, with his desk pushed up against the left wall furthest from the door with two mismatched embroidered chairs that he had stolen from the Tisch School of Arts last year. A giant bookcase covered the whole back wall with books sitting on top of each neatly organized row. The right side of his office was occupied by a worn leather couch that had only fit through the narrow door by some miracle. There was a coffee table with some of the school’s different magazines and newspapers and a small black fridge that always had sodas and Tom’s leftovers.

Harry could imagine her taking naps on that sofa, falling asleep as she plotted her next protest, asking Tom for advice while he answered emails. She wouldn’t even knock, she’d make a beeline to the fridge to grab water. Except she hated those bottles. What did she do instead? Maybe she would finish Tom’s salad for him, his wife always brought him one for lunch and he only ever ate the “exciting” parts before he tucked it away in that fridge.

“Harry, she’s in two of your classes this semester,” Tom had laughed, setting his reading glasses down on his desk as he sat back down. “Your Public and Private Governance Seminar and International Trade and Investment Law and Policy Seminar. Those are small classes, I’m surprised you two haven’t met before.”

Sinking in his chair, he held his back closely as he defended, “We have met before. Last week at Sloan Energy.”

“Ah,” Tom hummed, clearly entertained at Harry’s reaction. Scooting his chair closer, he closed his laptop so he could look directly at him. “She’s been leading that protest for a while now, I think it will be six weeks this Friday.”

“Is there any way to stop her?”

“From protesting for Green Energy? No.” Taking a deep breath, he rubbed at his neck and added hesitantly, “I suppose you could always talk to her? She’s reasonable enough, she just switched advisors this semester because she wanted to make Mark’s workload lighter; he’s semi-retired now.”

Tom went on to check in with Harry about his internship and how his classes were going so far but Harry could hardly focus, feeling himself drift towards the question of the hour: how could he convince her to move the protest?

From the short interaction he had had with Y/N and Tom’s high praise, he was beginning to think that he was Sloan Energy’s last hope. Why else would they turn to him, an intern, when they had a whole team of more than qualified lawyers? And why had Tom thrown him to the wolves, knowing that another student was leading a whole movement against the company?

Before he could ask, Tom was standing up and shaking his hand. “You’ll have to keep me updated on Sloan Energy and the protests. I’m eager to hear what happens.”

“Yeah, Tom I will. And thanks again for telling me about the internship.”

Tom was quiet for a minute, his smile frozen and his eyes narrowing before he nodded. “Of course, Harry. Jeff Azoff is an old student of mine. When he reached out about looking to hire students, I immediately thought of you. Pays a lot more than that paralegal you’ve been working for since your first year here.”

As Harry was leaving the office, he was surprised to see a new blue bin right next to Tom’s trash can. A single plastic salad bowl sat in it, still dripping water as if it had just been rinsed clean.

“Is this new?”

“It was a gift, actually. Just got it last week.”

The first thing Harry did after his meeting was text Sarah and Mitch, asking what they knew of Y/N Y/LN. Walking briskly down the hallway, Harry’s searches on Instagram and Facebook proved to be a waste of time. Twitter was useless, with only a few pictures of protests with faces blurred and no mention of her. As he waited for the elevator, Harry opened a new note on his phone and began to type down everything he knew.

Studies Environmental Law

No social media.

Protests when not in class

In my governance and policy seminars

Meeting tonight????

Throughout his Financial Regulation seminar, Harry could hardly focus as their guest speaker outlined the history of finance regulation in the US, wondering how he had never noticed her in his classes. In the sea of sleek and professionally dressed law students, she was like a rainbow colored rocky shore. The only thing standing between him and a guaranteed job after graduation was a strangely dressed classmate.

As soon as they were dismissed, Harry unlocked his phone, relieved to see that Mitch knew her pretty well, having dated her old roommate last year.

She was always really weird about showers. Her and Katie got into this huge fight at the end of the year because Katie had bought a Keurig and I guess that’s bad for the environment. When Y/N got mad about it, Katie locked herself in the bathroom and ran the shower for an hour. By the time she came out of the shower, Y/N had moved out.

Definitely weird.

Sarah had had class with her before and seemed annoyed at Mitch’s response.

It’s called being environmentally friendly, Rowland. Y/N has been practicing zero-waste since high school. She’s not weird, she’s thoughtful. My first year when I was dehydrated, she took me to the hospital and went to all of my classes for me to take notes. If I wouldn’t be risking arrest and my degree, I’d be protesting with her. She’s a better person than both of you combined. If she wasn’t so busy, she’d be top of our year easily. Why are you asking about her, Harry?

Ignoring her question, Harry put his phone away and kept walking, though he wasn’t entirely sure where to go. He hadn’t been able to convince Tom to give him her schedule although he could probably ask Jeff. And what was that meeting later tonight? Was it with Sloan Energy? Was that why they weren’t expected at the office today?

He wasn’t complaining, in fact he was beyond thankful to have a night to catch up with his studies and term papers, knowing he wouldn’t be getting much sleep either way.

Deciding to get a coffee to keep him warm while he plotted, Harry ducked into the Starbucks across the street and stood in line, making awkward eye contact at an old professor of his who was sitting with a much younger woman. Looking away quickly, his eyes landed on a basket with a sign that said ‘Reusable Cups $3.99’.

Suddenly, he felt inspired.

Pulling his phone out again, he quickly typed into his search engine ‘is coffee or tea better for earth?’ with a surprising yet logical result. Grabbing two of the reusable coffee cups, Harry smiled widely at the barista.

“Um, just one coffee black. And whatever your healthiest hot tea is.”

Soon, Harry was walking briskly towards Sloan Energy, hoping Y/N wasn’t at her meeting yet. He had only seen her a few hours ago with her bright colors and worn fabrics but as he got closer to the building, it felt like it had been years since he heard her familiar voice, thanking the small gathering around her through her red and white megaphone. The hot drinks in his hand had managed to only spill minimally on the frantic trip across The Village, surviving the packed subway and crowds of tourists.

She was easier to spot now that he knew where to look. The crowd was smaller than it had been the day before, with a few slowly easing out of the group to get somewhere warmer. As Harry made his way to her, he was glad he didn’t have his internship today; he blended in much better with his dark jeans and black zip tie shirt with NYU School of Law embroidered on the chest.

He waited as she informed the group of tomorrow’s meeting times before approaching. It was just them now. Y/N didn’t seem too surprised to see him as she lowered her megaphone and walked towards him, one eyebrow raised as she took in the two white reusable cups in his gloved hands.

“What is this?”

“Green tea,” Holding it out to her, he pulled it back just as quickly and examined the two cups before holding out the other one. “This one’s green tea. Thought you might be cold.”

“No, I meant why are you bringing me a drink?” When he didn’t respond, she asked with a cautious smile, “Did you poison it or something?”

Shaking his head, Harry glanced towards the main doors of Sloan Energy as she took the drink from him, taking a sip before humming. “It's good. Thanks. Harry, right?”

“Yeah. Harry Styles.”

Looping her free hand through the wrist strap of the horn, she wrapped her bare hands around the warm mug as she looked up at him. “Well can I help you, Harry Styles? Or do you just like to watch?”

“Do you want to maybe grab a drink?” He asked, feeling colder with every second he stood under her cautious gaze.

“Besides the one you just gave me?” Smiling, she glanced at the watch on her wrist that looked more like a piece of wood before she cleared her throat and took another sip of her tea. “I have a meeting in an hour so I probably shouldn’t be drinking yet.”

Harry could feel his shoulders droop unintentionally and watched as her eyes widen before she added quickly, “But I’m starving. Have you eaten today?”

She had taken them to a vegan place only a few minutes away, leading them to a table without hesitation, leading Harry to believe she had probably been here a few times before. He was beginning to notice how attentive Y/N was, from the corner of his eye he could see her casually observing him as he read the menu above the counter.

“Hope you don’t mind vegan, I always come here when I’m in the area.” She suddenly apologized as she dug through her backpack, taking out a much smaller back with her name sewn into it. “Their fries are really good, they’re air fried. The salads are pretty good too.”

They were quiet, with her eating her guacamole burger as he used the bamboo utensils she had handed him once he sat down with his salad.

“Don’t worry, they’re clean.” She had explained when he gave her a curious look. They’re safer than actual utensils, they last long. Better for the earth than those plastic things they give out here. Don’t even get me started on the metal stuff.”

The bag she had pulled out of her backpack had turned out to be a pouch with handkerchiefs, bamboo straws and bamboo utensils. The clinking he had heard earlier in her bag turned out to be mason jars.

“So, you just bring those with you everywhere?”

“Pretty much. I’m just doing my part to lower our carbon footprint. I bring my own containers and utensils mostly. Some places around here are getting better. Chloe, the manager, uses plates that are made of recycled materials and then recycles them again when they’re used.”

Nodding, Harry stabbed at his salad thoughtfully. “So why are you protesting Sloan? No offense, but don’t you have better things to do? Like study?”

“Why do you intern there? Aren’t there less morally corrupt businesses you could work for?”

“They’re one of the most successful energy companies on the East Coast--” He began but her sharp laugh was back, cutting him off quickly.

“And one of the most environmentally harmful energy companies in the US. It’s 2019, who uses coal anymore?”

“It’s not that harmful to the environment, it’s a natural resource.” He was glad he had paid attention to his Oil and Gas seminar last week. He only hoped she hadn’t. “Mining and burning the coal doesn’t harm the surrounding earth.”

“Uh, ever heard of global warming? They’re burning fossil fuels that are destroying the atmosphere. It’s not just cows.” She had been paying attention. Finishing off her sandwich, she took her final sip of her tea and looked at him expectantly.

“What?”

“Just say that they’re paying you a shit ton of money to intern. You don’t need to defend them to me, I’m not going to change my opinion until they change their system.”

Sighing, Harry nodded, not knowing what else to say.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re here then?”

He set down her bamboo fork, a sign of defeat. He hadn’t prepared as much as he should have.

“I need you to move your protest.”

“Because?”

“If I get you to move your protest from their front doors, they’ll give me an actual job on their legal team once I pass the bar.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that, her voice laced with pity and uncertainty.

“Yeah.”

After an excruciatingly long pause, she nodded. “Okay.”

“What?” Harry was more than surprised as he watched her shrug and wipe at her hands with the dark red cloth she had laid over her lap when she had started eating.

“I’ll do it.”

“But?”

“I have conditions. Obviously. Do you have any paper?”

He shook his head and watched her begin to dig through her backpack. “What? Are you drawing up a contract or something?”

“Yep,” Pulling out a pen and an old flyer for one of the first protests with the words ‘recycled paper’ stamped on it, Harry watched as she began to write messily on the black back side of it. It was bright yellow and her pen ink was a dark blue, her handwriting long and looped which he found fitting. “Today’s the twenty-fifth right?”

When he hummed in agreement, she continued. “Okay. This contract is between Y/N Y/LN and Harry Styles. Y/N Y/LN has agreed to move her protest permanently from outside of Sloan Energy on the understanding that Harry Styles will educate himself on eco-friendly behavior and practices zero-waste to the best of his ability. Styles must also make an effort to change Sloan Energy from inside, beginning with recycling bins within the building. Once he is hired, Styles is expected to push for green energy. How does that sound?”

“That sounds like I’m doing a lot more than you.”

“Do you want them to hire you or not? I’m doing you multiple favors here, Styles.”

“Can I read it over and get back to you?”

She nodded before quickly scribbling something at the bottom of the contract. After she slid it across the table, he realized it was her number.

“So we can meet outside of my protesting hours should you Don’t think your bosses would be too happy to see you fraternizing with the enemy.” She was smiling now, one full of mischief that made him feel like she was letting him in on a big secret. Harry couldn’t help but smile back, not quite sure what he might be agreeing on.

As she packed up, Harry was tempted to ask her where she was headed, but she beat him to it; it was like she could read his mind. “Don’t follow me this time, okay? Twice in one day should be enough for you, my own apartment is lucky to see me once.”

He didn’t see a point in disagreeing with the girl as she left the small café. Looking around, it was as if all of the charm of the room had vanished with her, the pink walls now looking faded, the table sticky, the chair uncomfortable cold.

By the time he got home, it had only gotten colder. His roommate, Ed, was an aspiring musician who had decided tonight was the perfect night to hold a private concert in the shower, his only audience being the last of their cold water. Shivering, Harry simply changed into warmer clothes and sat at his desk, putting on an old rock station before he got to work.

Jeff had asked him yesterday to begin looking into Energy Law and he had a paper due in two days that he had yet to start. Choosing to begin on the latter, Harry got to work, cranking out three pages before he remembered the folded up flyer in his coat pocket. Deciding now was as good as ever to stretch his legs, he walked back to the living room to grab it from the coat rack, his eyes tracing over her handwriting that reminded him of kindergarten teacher.

Adding her number, he typed out a short text and paused for a moment. If he texted her, that was it. He’d be agreeing to do whatever it is she laid out in this contract of theirs. Still, if he wanted the job, he knew he had to at least try.

hey, it’s harry. how was that secret meeting of urs?

Returning to his desk, Harry was surprised when his phone pinged. He didn’t take her for a quick responder. His smile fell when he saw it was a text from Jeff. He never texts, he was an email addict. He had a template for almost anything.

What the hell did you do, Styles? Y/N Y/LN just left the office. Moving the protest to washington square.

Before he could respond, his phone pinged again, her contact name flashing at the top of the screen.

have you decided when you want to meet to sign the contract? :)

tags: @berrynarrybanana @brwnskin-bunnyteeth @harry-is-my-medicine @detroitkiwis @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @fromyourstrulyh @cassiopeiaskies @ggaayyyong @mortumnoctis

48 notes · View notes

slapshot-to-the-heart · 5 years ago

Text

Flatbush & Atlantic: part i

Quick note: This is taking place in the 2020-21 season, as if the Islanders still play at Barclays; I know they won’t in actuality. In the story, I’m also going to be taking some liberties with what the duties of a team’s general counsel and legal team would actually be in charge of. My understanding, as a pre-law student, is that it’s more on the corporate angle, dealing with contracts and stuff — in addition to that, Cass will also be dealing with some more immigration and employment law as well.

part i

October 1

“Adiós, mamá. Hablamos pronto. Te amo.” Cassidy hung up, breathing out a tense sigh and rubbing her temples with the heels of her hands. Talking to her mom usually helped to calm her down, bring her back to Earth, but for whatever reason it wasn’t taking. She took a brief glance at the casebook open on her dinged-up Ikea desk. Federal Indian Law. She liked the class, genuinely, but her day had started off bad and gotten worse pretty damn quickly. First she was out of her favorite tea, then her advisor cancelled their meeting, then it started raining as she walked back to her MTA stop, so she had missed the train. Another came fifteen minutes later, but the damage was already done. The only bright spot in the day, aside from calling her mom, had been the cute guy at the Polish deli down the street who had put extra peppers on her Philly cheesesteak. She unwrapped the sandwich, taking a moody bite out of the end. A caramelized onion dropped to the floor. Sighing, she leaned down to pick it up, hurtling it in the direction of the trashcan but only half-looking to see if it reached its target destination. Despite the name, Cass had never had a cheesesteak before she moved to New York, and it wasn’t even because she wasn’t a sandwich person. No, Cass loved a good sandwich, but between her proclivity towards a good BLT and her mom’s homemade Mexican food, she just hadn’t gotten around to it.

Her laptop dinged with an email notification. What now? She swiped over to the mail page, taking another bite as she read the subject line. Experiential learning requirement - unmet. Her brow furrowed. Unmet? Clicking it open, she scanned the email, clearly something automated from the registrar’s office. Yet to complete Columbia’s experiential learning requirement...We suggest you connect with professors...You have until October 8 to submit...Cassidy never finished her sandwich. “Oh my God,” she muttered to herself, feeling her cheeks heat up. “How could you do this? How could you be so stupid, Cass?” She was normally so on top of everything, never missed a date, never forgot an assignment, so how could she have missed one of the only things left to do to graduate? Her law school required all of the graduates to complete some sort of experiential learning requirement — some kind of externship, clinic, summer associate position, anything to get them “out in the real world.” That’s when it hit her. She had coached her high school’s mock trial team the summer after her first year, and interned at the Hartford County DA’s the summer after. But they paid her. Her school had a weird ‘double-dip’ policy, where you weren’t allowed to take a position for class credit and get paid at the same time. It was a confusing rule, convoluted and bizarre and probably a little bit elitist, but it was a rule. As if the day couldn’t get any worse, and then somehow it did.

Turning to her laptop, she started searching for just about anything that could possibly help her. The school’s website, the Manhattan District Attorney’s, state offices, NGOs, federal prosecutors, anyone that might have a lead. Frantically dragging over her resumé and throwing together a cover letter that probably (hopefully) looked way more interesting than it actually was, Cassidy fired off email after email after email. Two hours later, she had sent off some twenty-odd applications, hoping that at least one or two would end up panning out. Glancing at her watch, she let out an exasperated breath. 12:22 A.M. Her classes didn’t start until nine, but it took almost an hour and a subway connection to get to Columbia, and she had to eat and shower before. So, really, it meant getting up at about seven. She needed to go to bed.

Stomach reeling and feeling more resigned than anything, Cass haphazardly brushed her teeth, flossed — it didn’t matter how tired she was, she’d never forget to floss — and clambered into bed, wearing a faded, way-too-big Rangers t-shirt. I’ll be okay. She took a deep breath. It’ll be okay. It has to be. Cassidy Cabrera Shaw was tough as nails and stubborn as hell, and she wasn’t going to let everything she had worked so hard for fall apart so easily.

Whenever Cass was nervous, or anxious, or afraid, she was never able to sleep well. She ended up waking up at ten past six, sitting in her bed for fifteen minutes praying that she’d fall back asleep, and finally accepting her fate that sleep just wasn’t going to come. Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from where she had left it charging on the nightstand. Nightstand was maybe a generous term for it; technically, it was a wooden milk crate that she had spray painted white when she and the other girls had moved into the apartment two years prior. She had a little bit of money set aside from college, but every penny possible was going towards tuition and those ungodly-expensive books that she had to buy every semester. The mattress and frame were from Ikea, and Cass had brought some things like bedding and a desk from her old room. The rest of it — rugs, lighting, and decorations like her six-inch ceramic peacock (his name was Charles) had come from a combination of Goodwill runs and senior citizen yard sales.

Wincing as she did so, Cass pulled up her email, bracing herself for the inevitable barrage of rejection. After scrolling past ten or so automated “no longer hiring” and “position has been filled” messages, one caught her eye. She had sent a few emails to professors of hers, not expecting to hear anything back for a few days. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but there certainly were advantages of going to school in a city as massive as New York. All of her professors knew someone and had some kind of connection from their own education, or days in the practice, or childhood summer trips to the Hamptons with someone who just so happened to be a judge on the Second Circuit Court — that last one was last year’s employment law professor. One particular subject line caught her eye. Thought you might be interested, Professor Murakami had written. David, as he preferred to be called, was her Sports Law professor from last year. She didn’t go into the class expecting to enjoy it all that much, if she was being honest. She had gotten a crappy registration time and most other classes were filled, so it had started out as a placeholder and nothing more. Over the semester, though, it had quickly become one of her favorites, combining pieces of everything else she had studied into one cohesive course. Cass also wasn’t in a position to be turning down any potential offers, so she opened the email and started reading.

I got your email, Cassidy, and think I might be able to help. Okay, so far, so good. I happen to have a contact in the counsel’s office of one of the professional sports teams in the city. That’s exactly what Cass was talking about — where do these people meet each other? Is there some kind of exclusive speakeasy you’re given the password to as soon as you’re admitted to the state bar? Chris Cohen works for the Islanders, and I remember you talking about how interested in hockey you are. Okay, true, but the Islanders? She had practically been born with a Ranger’s jersey on. Beggars can’t be choosers, she thought. I gave him a heads-up that I’d likely be sending a promising candidate his way, so just let me know if this sounds like something you’d be interested in and I’ll send along your contact information.

Cass couldn’t respond fast enough. Yes, please!

---

Wednesdays were her ‘easy’ days, if you could say that. She had Environmental Law and Human Rights back-to-back, but anything after noon was pretty much fair game. That being said, it certainly didn’t mean that she was any less stressed. There were at least a hundred pages to read before class the next day, she had a sample essay due for bar prep, and her mind was still racing about the email. Grabbing a gyro from the cart outside of her last class of the day, Cass stress-ate with one hand while continually refreshing her inbox with the other. Food wasn’t allowed in the library, so she ate the last few bites right outside the doors, throwing away the wrapper and squeezing past the hordes of clearly overwhelmed first-years running to get to class on time.

Popping her Airpods out of their case and into her ears, Cass briskly made her way up the stairs to the third floor, crossing her fingers that her usual spot, a big blue chair over by the research desk, was open. She was in luck, pulling out a water bottle and laptop and getting to work on editing. Four hours later, she had reached some semblance of satisfaction with her work, shutting off her computer and making her way to the subway. There was about half an hour before she had to transfer to the line that would take her to the apartment; squeezing into one of the last free seats, she tugged out a textbook and a highlighter. Why her professor insisted on assigning the entire text of the United Nations charter was a mystery to her, but she’d rather jump off a cliff than be cold called on without an answer. Transferring at Grand Concourse took about ten minutes — it was rush hour, so the first train to come was entirely full — and another twenty or so minutes later, she was letting herself into her shared East Bronx apartment.

Hanging up her denim jacket by the door and toeing off her sneakers, Cass let out a not-so-subtle exasperated sigh.

“One of those days?” Alicia piped in from the kitchen. Alicia also lived in the apartment, one of the four sorority sisters-turned-roommates who had made the move from Connecticut down to New York after graduation. Cass padded into the kitchen, where she was greeted by Alicia in front of a skillet and rice cooker, intensely sautéeing some vegetables.

“You have no idea,” Cass said, hugging her from behind. “Whatcha making?” There were obviously some nights when not everyone was home — most often either Cass or Ryanne, who was in med school — but they always tried to have a few nights a week where someone would cook a meal for the whole house.

“Japchae, it’s my mom’s recipe,” she replied. “I called her and asked how much sesame oil to use, and she just said ‘until it tastes right.’ Like, I love you, Mom, but that doesn’t really help my cause, does it?”

Cass snorted. “Oh for sure, it’s the same way with me. Do you remember the first time I made tamales down here?” Cass had grown up eating and making tamales with her mom and abuela, but she had never been allowed to really take the reins. She had the recipe, though, so the first night after they were moved in, she ventured down to the closest bodega, bought the ingredients, and decided to try her hand making them from scratch. The recipe, however, left out the key piece of exactly how much water to use for steaming — Cass didn’t know, and her mom had always just eyeballed it. So she had ended up putting in way too little and setting the stove way too hot, and to make a long story short, ended up setting off the fire alarm. The one saving grace was the extremely attractive police office that came to double-check the false alarm, but even he couldn’t wipe the mortified expression off of her face.

“How could I forget?” Alicia responded with a grin. “Go put your shit down, it’ll be ready in a few.”

Cass playfully rolled her eyes, heading towards her room in the back. “Yes, mother.” Their apartment was a three bedroom; while obviously it would have been amazing for everyone to have their own, it was still New York City and none of them were exactly rolling in the dough. Cassidy and Ryanne were obviously still students, and while Alicia and Stella had actual jobs — Stella worked international business down by Wall Street and Alicia did something with satellites in Queens — none of them were exactly inclined to set out on their own just yet. So Stella and Alicia shared a room, and she and Ryanne had their own. She shrugged off her jacket, slinging her backpack onto the bed before chugging the rest of her water bottle and checking her phone. Two new emails. A 20% off coupon to Lush, and one from Chris Cohen. Chris Cohen? It took her a minute to remember, but when she did, she couldn’t read it fast enough.

Honestly, Cass didn’t read the whole thing, but got enough information to know that she had an interview Friday afternoon at the office in Brooklyn, that Chris — he had said to call him Chris — said she came with a stellar recommendation from Professor Murakami (an old law school buddy, figures) and that there was no way in hell she was going to fuck this up. She wouldn’t let herself.

---

Cass was lucky her Thursdays were so packed; if she had any extra time to stress over her impending interview, she would have, but she couldn’t. She had two ‘free’ hours in between classes, but after she had scarfed down lunch (Alicia had, mercifully, made plenty of leftovers) it was the only stretch she had to hit the gym. Coupled with the time it took to walk there, change, and shower after, there really wasn’t much in the way of downtime. After classes was her bar prep group, and the day was so exhausting that it was pretty much all she could manage to take the train home, microwave dinosaur chicken nuggets, and stumble into bed. After flossing.

---

If Cassidy lived in any other city, she would have felt wildly out of place on her morning commute. Who shows up to school wearing a suit? She wasn’t an absolute masochist, so her heels were in her bag. But for once in her life she didn’t feel so out of place among the presumably-highbrow, presumably-making-six-figures crowd surrounding her. The suit had been her first big purchase for herself — she had scraped by without one in college, but invested as soon as she had a little saved up from her summer job at a boutique in town. Her mother had always told her that it was the woman who made the clothes, rather than the other way around, and Cass always did what her mom said.

Samaira, one of her friends and another editor on the Columbia Law Review, caught up to her as they both left the twice-weekly morning meeting. “You seem kind of jumpy, Cass. What’s up?”

Cassidy wrung her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “I told you that I missed the internship requirement thing, right?” Samaira nodded. “Well, I have an internship in,” she paused to look at her watch, “two hours, and I’m so nervous I’m going to mess this up. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t get it. There’s not time to look for something else, there’s no alternative, and I don’t know what to do if my own stupidity and forgetfulness is the only thing standing in between me and something I’ve worked so fucking hard for—”

Samaira cut her off. “I’m going to stop you there. That’s bull, Cass, and you know it. You are the furthest thing from a disappointment. You’re one of the kindest, sharpest, and most creative people I know, and you’re not going to let something as petty as a deadline stand in your way. Time gets away from all of us sometimes, and it’s nothing to beat yourself up over. I want you to be confident and have faith in yourself, because you deserve it, but if you don’t, it’s okay. I get it. I believe in you enough for the both of us.” She squeezed Cass’ hand.

She managed a watery smile. “Thanks, Samaira.”

“Any time,” she replied easily. “I’ve got to run to class now, but I want to hear how it went the second you get out, okay?”

“I will.”

Samaira rolled her eyes. “I mean it. You’re going to crush this, Cass. Love you!” She added, waving goodbye as she turned the corner.

There was half an hour before Cass needed to head over to the interview, and before she knew it her feet had taken her to her favorite spot on the north side of Central Park. Grabbing a bagel, she thankfully found the bench empty. After finishing the bagel — she would have preferred cheese, but they were out, so cinnamon raisin it was — and the better part of her Hozier-dominated acoustic playlist, it was time to catch the train. She jumped on with barely a second to spare, grabbing a strap and trying to avoid bumping into anyone.

A seat opened up about halfway to Brooklyn, and Cass took the opportunity to unceremoniously tug off her much more practical flats and switch into the much more professional ankle-strap heels that had been stuffed in her backpack all day. For a fleeting moment, she was worried what everyone around her would think; she was, after all, technically changing on public transportation. A man got on at the next stop who was dressed head-to-toe in neon orange while carrying a Pomeranian in his purse. Nobody batted an eye. She got over herself pretty quickly.

Getting off at the Barclays Center station, Cass pulled out her phone, opening up the camera to give herself a quick once-over. As much as she hated it, first impressions really were everything. Lipstick? Not smudged. Hair? Minimal flyaways. Teeth? No spinach to be seen. Triple-checking that she had the time right, Cass walked through the doors of the office building, Islanders logo emblazoned on the wall behind the secretary’s desk.

“Hi,” she said tentatively, catching his attention. “I have an interview with Chris Cohen at 2?”

The secretary nodded, smiling warmly at her. “No problem. I’m Josh, you can have a seat over there,” he nodded to the small waiting area off to the side, “and I’ll call you when he’s ready for you to be sent up.”

Cass didn’t wait for more than five minutes before Josh gave her the go-ahead, and she was soon headed up the elevator to Chris’ office. “Fourth door on the left. It should have his name on it,” Josh had added.

She raised her fist, knocking quickly on the frosted glass. It swung open a second later, a kind-looking man with glasses and salt-and-pepper hair answering. “You must be Cassidy. I’m Chris Cohen, so nice to meet you. Come right in,” he said, ushering her through the room, where several other associates sat at desks, and into his office.

“David’s always good at keeping an eye out for me in his courses, and I was happy he passed you along,” Chris said, pulling out her resumé. “And you’re a 3L, correct?” She nodded. “Good. So let’s dive right into it. What courses and work experience do you have that you feel best position you for success in this position?” Much though Cass was loath to admit it, if there was anything she was good at, it was talking herself up. There was a reason her high school superlative was “Most Likely to be Able to Talk Their Way Out of a Ticket.” She launched into a well-rehearsed response, making sure to lace in her love for hockey once or twice. If nothing else, it would hopefully at least get her some brownie points. He had a few questions about her resumé, asked about her work on the law review, a few hypotheticals about contract law. She was batting a thousand until he asked the dreaded final question. “Do you have any questions for me?”

Cass was wracking her brain, trying to come up with some intelligent-sounding thing to ask, but nothing came. “Uh—” she started, but was saved by the bell. Or, rather, saved by a frantic door opening and a panicked-sounding Mat Barzal bursting into the room. “Chris, I’ve got a problem.”

#hockey imagine #hockey #nhl imagine #mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl #hockey writing #nhl writing #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #islanders #mat barzal imagines

92 notes · View notes

randomnumbers751650 · 4 years ago

Text

Sometimes people ask a thing like “how did it get so big?” This is almost like any meme in the internet and sometimes even whatever is in the Top 10 bestselling books of any list. Due to being a historian of economic thought, I’m study the ascension of the idea of the entrepreneur as a hero, how it happened and its consequences, both good and bad. Therefore, I couldn’t avoid Ayn Rand and Atlas Shrugged. It wasn’t a good experience and I’ll talk more about it under the cut.

I think we all know how much of a controversial person Ayn Rand was. But it worked. She’s one of the most influential writers of the 20th century whether we like it or not. Like, a lot of people say she hates the poor and minorities. It’s even a meme, like there’s a joke SCP that makes everything it comes into contact unnecessarily verbose and one of the incidents was a sticky note written “I hate poor people” that becomes a copy of Atlas Shrugged.

After reading her work, I can safely say these are traps she set up in her own work. Not only that, these traps hide the true problems of her work.

In first place, we need to consider her demographic target. That wasn’t me, if I wasn’t researching, I wouldn’t even bother reading it. Like, I remember I saw in the internet a game called “The Jihad to Destroy Barney” and someone commenting: “because 20-years old thinking they’re funny were obviously the demographic target of Barney the Dinosaur”. Rand knew what her demographic target was, after working in Hollywood for so many years.

One might think that her demographic target was people like her, but it’s wider than that. Through all her book, producers (she doesn’t use the word ‘entrepreneur’, but it’s obviously the same) are the protagonists. Dagny shows her dedication to her railway, always looking for ways to improve it, to hire the best people to work with her, to deliver the best product she can, always treating others with respect. All the producers are people full of passion for what they do. They do not just for the money, they do it to express themselves (but still want/should be paid).

Meanwhile their enemies are the government organs that want to curb them, by introducing legislation to make everything equal, like people are forbidden to be fired, prices are controlled and so on. And they are evil, they are hypocrites who don’t really believe in the altruistic values they spouse or they are too dumb to realize they’re being hypocrites. They are always men in position of power, evil bureaucrats, quisling industrialists, hypocrite union leaders (though the union leader, Fred Kinnan, interestingly is the most sympathetic of the villains, and actually gets away scot free, to the point some think he’s a Galt agent undercover).

Rand aimed for the real life entrepreneur identify with the “heroes”. All the companies have names of their founders in their titles, Taggart Terminal, d’Anconia Copper, and so on. Their enemies show their true faces by naming themselves with abstract titles, like National Union and so on. She aimed the person who ever had to deal with the Health Department, with the Labor Department, who has to fills forms and more forms and say “Wouldn’t the world be a terrible place if it wasn’t for you? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you didn’t have to do all of this? If you just had the opportunity to truly express yourself? Free from the prying eyes of government inspectors? Rejoice, because I have the answer!”

Rand answers this with the Galt’s Gulch – a utopia of freedom, where the word “give” is taboo, while leaving the outside world of looters and moochers to destroy itself. All the producers are gathered to escape the terrible collectivist world around her. Everyone has money and, since they’re all enlightened by the principles of greed and selfishness, the prices are small, even symbolic. Monopolies are good and rivals are always being taken down, and they rejoice with it, both winner and loser, because they contributed to the expansion of human spirit.

When John Galt says “I swear – by my life and my love of it – that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine”, he’s implying all men who belong to this valley. They are not ashamed of taking low jobs, because they know their true power is what they do with their minds and hands. Francisco is shown to be perfect in everything he does, makes one think he’s a Gary Stu, but it’s because, according to the book’s philosophy, if you’re a true man, anything you do you become the best. For this reason, Galt’s Gulch is quite diverse, because it has not only industrialists, but also factory workers and small businessmen who share their ideals. And not only workers, but also artists, intellectuals and others.

This is why I think the argument “this books hates poor people” might not be accurate. The low worker whom Eddie Willers meets in the beginning is actually John Galt in disguise. This I think it’s the most important part to understand why Atlas Shrugged was so influential with small businessmen when published: John Galt is where the Übermensch and the Everyman meet. “Who is John Galt?” Anyone can be John Galt – the same way anyone can be Bella Swan, anyone can be Ritsuka Fujimaru (at least before the 5th singularity), anyone can be Kirito Kirigaya – the idealized self of the entrepreneur.

Thus, one is not born a “man”, but becomes one. Dagny and Hank’s entire character development is to become “men”, to learn to love themselves more than what they create, no matter how passionate they are. This contrasts with Eddie Willers, Dagny’s right hand man, probably the most tragic character of the tale.

Eddie loved the railway just as Dagny. He’s been her friend for so long, and even developed feelings for her. But the book constantly observes that Eddy doesn’t have the capacity to lead something as important as a railway. But he does it nevertheless, dedicating all his resources and passion for the railway. But, unlike Dagny, he doesn’t learn to look for greater things. Thus, he ends the novel stuck in a railway, defeated and probably left to die.

This is controversial, so much everyone still discusses his fate. In the movie adaptation, they deviate from the novel by having the heroes making a point to rescue him from his fate. In Jennifer Burns’s biography, she mentions a letter Ayn Rand received asking about Eddie and she replies that in a collectivist society, Eddie would’ve perished, while in a free one he’d be living okay. Nevertheless, this reveals a truth about that world: not everyone will become a “man”. Eddie would never become a “man”.

Since pity is against Galt’s doctrine, Eddie cannot be pitied. He has to live under the mercy of his Galtian overlords. He has only two options: either worship the feet that trample him, expecting his breadcrumbs fall from their banquet table, or to question his place in the world, thus denying that A is A, and be trampled harder. It really doesn’t matter his kindness, his dedication, he’s not a “man”, and thus has more in common with the looters and moochers than the heroes. Thus, if Eddie ever becomes an obstacle to the productive forces, even if unintentionally, he has to be trampled.

While one might think that I’m being unfair, it should be reminded that Ayn Rand openly advocated the people who were killing Natives during the American expansion to the West were doing nothing wrong. The Natives were actually privileged for being trampled by the productive forces, thus creating the great nation. The same argument can be made for the colonized people and even to the “essential workers” of this pandemic – since apparently people who take this book seriously are one of the most resistant forces to lockdowns and mask mandates, you can guess why.

And this is why Rand hated the environmental movement, because it puts an obstacle to the productive process. Nature can only react with deaf indifference to Galt’s speech. For Rand, this is unforgivable. Would it be surprising if oil tycoons were fans of Rand’s work?

In the end, the producers execute their revenge against the world that rejected them. Galt’s speech caused a lot of disturbance and the last chapters deal with its consequences, with more villains being evil for no reason and more showing how awesome their heroes are. Galt becomes more and more like Jesus, even with a gnostic Judas in Dagny helping him. In fact, in the funniest part of the book, where it comes THIS close from being self-aware, he says to his tormenters, when they asked to cooperate with him: “It took me three hours on the radio to tell me why”. It gave me angry laughter.

In the end of the day, what matters? This is a work of fiction, where caricatures of men and women fight each other. The entrepreneurial process works nothing like described in the book. It takes a naïve view of selfishness, upon saying that if everyone was selfish the world would be a better place, when in reality, if you expect selfishness, it’s what you’ll get.

It’s never explained how they invented their inventions, only that they did it and it’s awesome. The One-Man Industrial Revolution trope is one that I loathe a lot, because it misrepresents the innovation process. It requires so many factors, including government funding – scratch that, it REQUIRES government funding because technologies like touch-screen used to be so risky that no private company would take seriously and government can fund because it doesn’t go bankrupt the same way. Even if we take it as a metaphor, it doesn’t work when you stop to think.

Rand belongs to the same class of writers as Stephenie Meyer and Christian Weston Chandler. But she wanted to influence the world, she wanted it to be more than entertainement, much more. Thanks to her publishing network and appeal to real problems, she did it. This is why the problems of her work require critique. And I hope anyone reading this try to understand better what “relatability” means, this is what relatability can do. Stop trying to look for relatability everywhere, let it just come naturally and if it doesn’t come enjoy the story!

#politics #i'm not revising this #i hope i don't have to think about this book #for a minimal time #it shows correcting a wrong interpretation about a harmful idea #can explain how worse the actual idea is

4 notes · View notes

comrade-meow · 4 years ago

Link

Dawn had only just broken over the mountains. While most of the women and children on the camping grounds were still asleep, others were already wide awake, huddling together in the first rays of sunlight and drinking coffee.

To a casual observer, this place might have seemed similar to any mainstream festival campsite. A distinguishing factor, however, was that there wasn’t a single man in sight. The sign on the main entrance left no one in doubt that only women and children were welcome at this event: “Men not permitted to enter.”

Women’s participation in Mexico’s 25-year-old Zapatista National Liberation Army, or EZLN movement, has represented an incredible organizational achievement since its original uprising in 1994. On International Women’s Day, the female militants of the EZLN did not fail to meet expectations when welcoming 7,000 people to the “First International Political, Artistic, Sports, and Cultural Encounter for Women who Struggle.”

Two thousand indigenous Zapatista women from various parts of Chiapas state and 5,000 visitors from all over the world came to Caracol Morelia, near the northeastern town of Altamirano, to hear what they had to say.

Uniting women

The event was entirely initiated by women of the EZLN. They planned it from beginning to end, and made sure everyone who attended was allocated a sleeping place, had access to drinking water and was cared for in the case they fell sick during the three days the event took place. Zapatista events such as these have commonly been accessible via invitation only. This event differed from most of the EZLN’s previous “Escuelitas,” or “Little Schools,” summoning all women and children who were interested in the struggle to overcome misogynistic culture.

“What we wanted was to meet many women,” said Commander Jenny, who coordinated the event. “We thought that only a few women were going to come, so we are very happy to see how many of you have joined us here.” Although only her eyes were visible, a smile was detectable behind her black balaclava. “It has been hard work, but we are very pleased to see that there are many other women who are fighting patriarchy.”

The event was not only an opportunity to create educational or professional networks, but also a space to consider one’s health and well-being as a woman in the fight for justice. There were activities ranging from workshops, discussion panels and movie screenings to theater performances, art exhibitions and sports events, including basketball and soccer matches. Themes included gender violence, self-defense, self-care, sexism in the media, sexual rights, health and education, misogyny and childhood, discrimination against indigenous LGBTQ communities, women environmental rights defenders, and decolonization. All of the activities were led and held by women, and all of them were aimed at generating consciousness of gender inequality or the restoration of women’s self-confidence and autonomy.

“Capitalism is not only colonial, it is also patriarchal and racist,” said Fernanda Esquivel, a 20-year-old student from Guadalajara. “To come here and see that the Zapatistas are still resisting and have resisted for so many years is a huge inspiration for me. Being with so many women and feeling united also makes me feel hopeful about really creating a change. In academia there is nothing that can show you what it is like to come here, and to feel and share these experiences in practice.”

Young women like Esquivel have grown up watching the Zapatistas evolve and followed their fight through media reports, the Zapatista’s own communication channel, “Zapatista Connection,” and more recently a Facebook page and YouTube account. Women from a total of 42 different countries, some of whom were already familiar with women’s movements or other social, political or environmental activism, attended the event in hopes that they would gain skills and inspiration from the women’s Zapatista struggle.

“Apart from wanting to amplify my vision of how different fights against the extractive industries are developing,” said Katherin Cruz from the National Network of Women Human Rights Defenders in Honduras, which accompanies women human rights defenders involved in territorial conflicts. “I came here so I could recharge my batteries and take home experiences that strengthen me individually and prepare me for the work that I do, and for my political activism within the feminist movement in Honduras.”

The birth of the EZLN

In 1983, a group of indigenous peasants in Chiapas organized in secret, educating themselves politically and creating an entirely unique philosophy that insisted that “another world is possible,” one that focuses on collectivity, serving the Zapatista community and creating an autonomous social and economical environment for themselves within neoliberal and capitalist Mexico. Finally on January 1, 1994 the group went public, calling themselves the Zapatista National Liberation Army, named after the hero of the 1910 Mexican Revolution, Emiliano Zapata. That day, the EZLN launched an armed uprising, occupied seven towns in Chiapas, including San Cristóbal, and declared war on the Mexican government.

During their brief occupation, followed by a 12-day battle, the EZLN criticized the effects of global capitalism on local farmers and indigenous land. They drew attention in particular to the North American Free Trade Agreement, or NAFTA, calling it a death sentence for the indigenous peasants of Mexico. NAFTA would be responsible for dismantling collective land rights secured by the Mexican constitution and prioritizing export manufacturing. The Zapatistas fought for a fairer distribution of wealth, as well as the right to political participation for indigenous people in Mexico.

After their initial uprising, in 1996 the Zapatista organization gained constitutional recognition from the state through the San Andres Accords and formed the National Indigenous Council. The Mexican government did not comply with the agreements and the Zapatistas continued to suffer from violent attacks, such as the Acteal Massacre in 1997, where 45 Zapatista sympathizers were killed in Chiapas. Since then, they have peacefully organized mass marches and protests, created their “caracoles,” or administrative headquarters, formed autonomous governance, justice, health and education systems and launched public campaigns drawing attention to continued racism and discrimination in Mexico. According to the Mexican newspaper El Universal, the EZLN now governs over 250,000 indigenous people living in the Autonomous Rebellious Zapatista Municipalities in Chiapas.

Today, the image of the Zapatista soldiers, clad in red scarves and balaclavas, has reached some of the most remote corners of the world. Their movement is now well known for its transition from armed struggle to nonviolent resistance to advance their demands for indigenous land rights and autonomy, which has triggered tremendous support and solidarity from anti-capitalist activists globally. However, many of the major issues for indigenous communities addressed by the Zapatistas, such as abandonment and marginalization, continue to exist in Chiapas and other parts of impoverished Mexico.

Women’s involvement and participation

During the gathering, Commander Marina took the stage to tell the story of the first female Zapatistas, their struggle for recognition in a male-dominated space and their experience of clandestine meetings prior to their public appearance in 1994. “We took our safety very seriously so that no one would realize where we were going. We had meetings in the mountains, these were very important. We had talks on politics, read books and watched films. We studied the situation of poverty our community was submerged in,” she said. “There was nothing to gain trying to demand things from our bad government.”

The backdrop of the women’s movement within the Zapatista struggle reveals extreme levels of violence against women, poverty and abandonment from any sort of federal health or educational institutions. Intersectional discrimination for being poor, indigenous and women was commonplace, and girls were often forced into marriages or sold by their fathers or families. During the opening ceremony of the encounter, the Zapatistas made it clear that women were sidelined and perceived by the community as second-class citizens. According to Commander Flor, even “midwives would charge less when girls were born.”

Their struggle has led the women in the ranks of the EZLN — which comprise about a third of the organization’s participants — to see themselves from a different perspective and shed light on the problematic behaviour caused by gender inequality. “At the beginning, we were not used to saying our opinions, or having discussions. We would all agree to everything and nod our heads,” Marina said. “We had to fight among our own compañeros, since it took a lot for them to understand the rights we have as women. There is a lot left to achieve but we are convinced that we will accomplish our ideals because we are organized, and we are strong as a collective. We have put fear and doubt aside.”

Many followers of the Zapatista revolution were not aware of the key elements that formed the movement before going public in 1994. Undeniably, one of the key characteristics that shaped the movement was the “Women’s Revolutionary Law,” passed by the Zapatista committees in 1992.

For Sylvia Marcos, a sociologist and expert on indigenous movements across the Americas, the emphasis on women’s rights is a defining factor for the organization. Furthermore, she indicates that these rights were claimed not solely for women as individuals, but were “fully linked and interwoven with collective rights.”

The unique transformations achieved by the Zapatista indigenous movement are manifest in its attempt to re-imagine gender and decolonize oppressive discourse for the sake of personal empowerment.

Enduring inspiration

Over the last three decades, the revolution continues to abide by laws made by the autonomous Zapatista government. With military strategist and spokesperson Subcomandante Marcos “resigning” from his activities, the Zapatistas have moved out of the media spotlight. However, the successful turnouts for their events prove that the Zapatistas are still an important source of inspiration for social mobilizations and women’s movements today.

Not simply an iconic reminder of what indigenous communities were up against in the past, the Zapatistas are engaging in great efforts to revise their strategies and continue to create networks of people who resist, especially among women. Though alternative visions of gender relations have flourished among the Zapatistas, women in the movement continue to suffer gender violence and are battling other issues not uncommon in Chiapas, such as malnutrition, and lack of access to health care and education.

The Zapatistas are addressing some of these issues through their own internal initiatives. Part of their collective work towards independence and sustainability relies on their agroecological farming projects, coffee sales, cooperative shops, community kitchens, traditional medicine and tortilla businesses. However, the fundamental purpose of the Zapatista movement is to promote their way of life and organize collective resistance to resource appropriation, historically-determined economic and social disadvantages and institutional neglect, which exacerbate poverty, sustain the governmental elite and destroy local traditions. Much of their work revolves around inspiring new generations to begin their own journey towards deconstructing norms in their respective societies.

The Zapatista movement currently functions like an organization that promotes constructive dialogue, communication and continued reflection on problems that affect their communities, as well as a support network for other national movements, including the water conflict affecting the indigenous Yaqui community, the 43 Ayotzinapa students missing since 2014 and the recent presidential campaign by the indigenous activist Maria de Jesus Patricio Martinez.

Women’s participation within the EZLN has played a key role in their success and ideology. They have made it clear that there will be no democracy without them. What the event last month demonstrated to many of those who were present, was the need to create safe spaces for all women, which allow them to heal and inspire them to continue fighting their own battles in their own ways. “We made an agreement, and that agreement was to live!” Commander Marina said. “And since, for us, living is fighting, we agreed to fight — each of us according to our means, our place and our time.”

#Anglo.txt

2 notes · View notes