#Business competition for high school students

[flagshipmarketing]

Are You Ready to Win the Business Idea Competition?

Calling all High School Entrepreneurs: Join Flagship.club's thrilling 'Business Fair Day' and compete in the ultimate Business Idea Competition. Showcase your innovative startup concepts to potential investors in California. Experience a platform that fosters creativity, entrepreneurial spirit, and real-world connections.

[eliteprepsat]

The LEAD Business Case Competition program is excellent for students who want to build a foundation in financial literacy. It will provide high school students with a crash course in the world of economics, business, and markets. Students who are interested in pursuing majors with a future of entering the business world will get a strong idea of the types of problems they will solve. Non-business-focused students will develop their ability to think strategically, develop strong critical thinking, and hone their presentation skills.

Online Classes • February 15 – April 11, 2024

Thursdays @ 8:00-10:00pm PT

For students in grades 9-12

Learn more and enroll today!

[robertreich]

Who’s to Blame for Out-Of-Control Corporate Power?    

One man is especially to blame for why corporate power is out of control. And I knew him! He was my professor, then my boss. His name… Robert Bork.

Robert Bork was a notorious conservative who believed the only legitimate purpose of antitrust — that is, anti-monopoly — law is to lower prices for consumers, no matter how big corporations get. His philosophy came to dominate the federal courts and conservative economics.

I met him in 1971, when I took his antitrust class at Yale Law School. He was a large, imposing man, with a red beard and a perpetual scowl. He seemed impatient and bored with me and my classmates, who included Bill Clinton and Hillary Rodham, as we challenged him repeatedly on his antitrust views.

We argued with Bork that ever-expanding corporations had too much power. Not only could they undercut rivals with lower prices and suppress wages, but they were using their spoils to influence our politics with campaign contributions. Wasn’t this cause for greater antitrust enforcement?

He had a retort for everything. Undercutting rival businesses with lower prices was a good thing because consumers like lower prices. Suppressing wages didn’t matter because employees are always free to find better jobs. He argued that courts could not possibly measure political power, so why should that matter?

Even in my mid-20s, I knew this was hogwash.

But Bork’s ideology began to spread. A few years after I took his class, he wrote a book called The Antitrust Paradox summarizing his ideas. The book heavily influenced Ronald Reagan and later helped form a basic tenet of Reaganomics — the bogus theory that says government should get out of the way and allow corporations to do as they please, including growing as big and powerful as they want.

Despite our law school sparring, Bork later gave me a job in the Department of Justice when he was solicitor general for Gerald Ford. Even though we didn’t agree on much, I enjoyed his wry sense of humor. I respected his intellect. Hell, I even came to like him.

Once President Reagan appointed Bork as an appeals court judge, his rulings further dismantled antitrust. And while his later Supreme Court nomination failed, his influence over the courts continued to grow.  

Bork’s legacy is the enormous corporate power we see today, whether it’s Ticketmaster and Live Nation consolidating control over live performances, Kroger and Albertsons dominating the grocery market, or Amazon, Google, and Meta taking over the tech world.

It’s not just these high-profile companies either: in most industries, a handful of companies now control more of their markets than they did twenty years ago.

This corporate concentration costs the typical American household an estimated extra $5,000 per year. Companies have been able to jack up prices without losing customers to competitors because there is often no meaningful competition.

And huge corporations also have the power to suppress wages because workers have fewer employers from whom to get better jobs.

And how can we forget the massive flow of money these corporate giants are funneling into politics, rigging our democracy in their favor?

But the tide is beginning to turn under the Biden Administration. The Justice Department and Federal Trade Commission are fighting the monopolization of America in court, and proposing new merger guidelines to protect consumers, workers, and society.

It’s the implementation of the view that I and my law school classmates argued for back in the 1970s — one that sees corporate concentration as a problem that outweighs any theoretical benefits Bork claimed might exist.

Robert Bork would likely regard the Biden administration’s antitrust efforts with the same disdain he had for my arguments in his class all those years ago. But instead of a few outspoken law students, Bork’s philosophy is now being challenged by the full force of the federal government.

The public is waking up to the outsized power corporations wield over our economy and democracy. It’s about time.

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Pt. 2 (Reader's pov) ___________________________________________________________

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who was born with the whole package; beauty, brains and a golden spoon in his mouth. Add his outgoing personality in the mix and unsurprisingly, he's the most popular guy you'll ever meet. Everyone knows him and likes him despite his obnoxious and arrogant personality.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who excels in every field he participates in. He makes everything he does look easy, sports? Breaks no sweat, musical instruments? Piece of cake, studies? He doesn't even go 10 feet near his books but is still at the top of his class.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who just excels his whole life through and is appalled by the 'lack of competition' in the so-called top notch universities by the time he reaches high-school.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who knows that he's just gonna inherit his family's company but hey, he needs some good ol' competition to keep him on his toes. So he convinces his parents to open a university with 'actual' competition when in high-school, just for him to have some semblance of normality during his college life.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who drafts all the entrance exam papers for the university while still in highschool with the passing percentage set at 80% to pass but is soon changed to 50% just because the questions are 'that' hard to answer.

The University soon rises up the ladder and quickly gains recognition as one of the best universities world-wide due to its difficulty and 100% guarantee of being set for life once you graduate because of the facilities and connections provided.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who finally finds 'normalcy' and speed-runs through his college with ease and when he reaches his third-year, he finally hears the news he never thought he'd hear. Someone topped the entrance exams with a whopping 98.7%, a record unheard of with the difficulty level set on the paper and earning the said-individual a scholarship to the overly-pricy college.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who walks to the first-year class to check out the scholarship student and finds you easily enough, what with you being a sensation in the university and everyone flocking around you curiously. However, their attentions soon shifts from you to Satoru as he soon gets swarmed by excited first-year students, hungry for his attention and connections causing him to lose sight of you.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who's ecstatic as hell when he finds out that you're in the same advanced math and business class as his, lucky!

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who sits besides you instead of his assigned seat and questions you the whole time instead of paying attention to class. The teachers says nothing, the both of you are toppers and Satoru is a 'Gojo' afterall. Satoru's pleased when you reluctantly answer him no matter how short or curt your answers are, he's just happy to talk to you.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who's slightly confused, he swears that he knows you from somewhere, You tell him that he's delusional. He agrees.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who thrives off of attention slowly starts to wither when you start receiving it instead of him and his curiosity for you dies down as his pettiness grows. He's the special one. He always was, not you so why is everyone treating him like old news now?

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who grows more bitter when he hears both students and some teachers call you 'a breathe of fresh air' and the chosen one to finally put 'The Gojo Satoru' in his place. He loudly coughs and glares at them, the resentment for you growing a lot more than before.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who can't help but start hating you more when you publicly crush him in both chess and checkers, a humiliating defeat since he was the one who wanted to compete in the first place. You also defeat him in an unofficial tennis match that no one knows besides the two of you.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who starts disliking the competition he craved for ever since childhood since he's now being put in the back-burner because of you. Only thing holding his pride together is that you haven't scored higher than him in any subjects....yet.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who rushes towards the score boards, unsure of the results for the first time in his life. His heart sinks as he looks at the final score for the end of the year exams, him with an overall of 98% and you with an overall of 99%. He's bitter, oh so bitter. He looks around and catches sight of your impassive face looking at the scores, your gaze leaves the board and finally meets his, a small smile gracing your face as you nod at him once and leave him behind.

Prodigy Gojo Satoru who reads your smile as a smirk, a look of mock kindness. He thinks you're taking him as a joke, making him a joke and he seethes with rage. Balling his hands into fists and holding his head up high, he ignores the glances and whispers around him while briskly walking away.

AcademicRival Gojo Satoru who swears revenge upon you for the hit on his pride, you're not gonna beat him again and he's gonna make sure of that.

___________________________________________________________

A little snack before I start with the smut and alphabetical fic, 2 more days until the polls closed!

Pt.2 (Reader's Pov) ♡ Masterlists

[zaczenemiji]

Curtain Calls and Curveballs II

Kenji Sato x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: After high school graduation, you never expected to see Kenji Sato again. But fate reunites you both at the same university where your love/hate relationship continues to grow.

Word Count: 1,376

Genre/Warning: Coming of Age, Enemies to Lover, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn

Author's Note: Oops, it became a short series 🫢 Part 3’s otw and I changed the title

PART ONE | PART THREE

MASTERLIST

You were dead wrong when you thought that high school graduation would be the last time you’d ever have to interact with Kenji. You remember your last words then, saying, “Congrats, Sato! I hope this is the last time I ever have to deal with you again.”

To which he replied with, “I’m sure this isn’t the last, (y/n)—to me at least—if ever you really are going to be the actress you dream of being.”

You were hurrying across the busy campus of your university, juggling a stack of drama textbooks and a cup of coffee.

Just as you were about to approach the performing arts building, you noticed a group of students gathered around a bulletin board. Your curiosity built up as you got closer to see what the commotion was about.

“Did you hear? There's a big baseball game this weekend.” a familiar voice called out.

You turned, heart skipping a beat. You didn’t expect to see anyone from high school here, let alone Kenji Sato. He stood there, his signature confident grin in place, holding a baseball glove.

"Kenji?" you blurted out, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Kenji raised an eyebrow, looking equally taken aback. "I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “I thought you were off to some fancy drama school."

“I am,” you rolled your eyes, recovering from the shock. “This university has one of the best drama programs in LA. What about you? I thought you were headed straight for the big leagues."

“Not yet,” Kenji chuckled, shaking his head. “I've got a scholarship to play baseball here while I get my degree.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, sizing each other up. The familiar tension from high school crept back in, but it was tinged with the novelty of your new surroundings.

"So, you're still playing ball?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, and I'm still throwing strikes," Kenji replied with a smirk. "And you? Still pretending to be someone else on stage?"

“Ugh!” you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "It's called acting, Kenji. Something you'd know nothing about."

Kenji laughed, the sound surprisingly warm. "Fair enough. So, are you coming to the game this weekend? It's against our biggest rival. Should be a good show."

"I might," you said, shrugging. "If I don't have rehearsals."

"Typical," Kenji said, shaking his head. "Always busy with your little plays."

"And you're always busy chasing a ball," you retorted.

The rivalry that had defined your high school years was still there, but it was different now but no less present.

"Well, I've got to get to practice," Kenji said finally, stepping back. "Try not to trip on stage, (y/n)."

"And you try not to get hit by a pitch, Sato," she shot back.

As you went your own way, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Being in college felt like being in an unknown and bigger territory with so much more people. It was nice to come across someone you know in a crowd of unfamiliar faces; even if that was Kenji.

So many things have changed since you got into college. The only thing that didn’t, of course, was your rivalry with Kenji but the competition was less intense since you were in different programs.

This shift allowed you to focus on your individual passions without the constant pressure of direct competition. Here, in college, people didn’t know about the rivalry you had.

But this anonymity disappeared quicker than you thought because, for every time you came across each other, you’d always be hurling sarcastic remarks; as you two always did.

One bustling afternoon in the cafeteria, you were with your new friends, laughing and discussing your upcoming production.

"Hey, (y/n), I heard your play's actually worth watching this time," Kenji called out, smirking as he approached with his tray.

“Kenji,” You looked up, a frown on your face. "I thought you'd be busy throwing balls around. What brings you to the world of real talent?"

Kenji chuckled, setting his tray down. "Just wanted to see if you're still pretending to be someone you're not."

One of your friends raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. "You two know each other?"

“Unfortunately,” you said, rolling your eyes as you sighed. "Kenji here thinks he's the king of everything just because he can throw a ball."

"Careful, (y/n). Your jealousy is showing," Kenji retorted, grinning.

Your friends exchanged looks, quickly picking up on the rivalry. "So, you two have a history?"

"You could say that," Kenji said. "She's been trying to keep up with me since high school."

You scoffed, "In your dreams, Sato."

On baseball games, you’d attend with a group of friends from your program more to support the school than to see Kenji, or so you told yourself.

As you settled in your seat, one of your guy friends nudged you. "Isn't that the guy you're always talking about? The baseball star?" He asked.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Yes, that's Kenji,” you said. “Try not to feed his ego."

Kenji was on the mound, winding up for a pitch. He glanced towards the stands where he spotted you and your friends. With a smirk, he nodded in your direction.

"Is he waving at us?" another friend asked.

“No,” you shook your head. "He's just trying to show off. Watch, he'll probably strike this guy out just to make a point."

Sure enough, Kenji delivered a fastball that struck the batter out, the crowd erupting in cheers. He turned back to you, giving a mock bow.

Your guy friend laughed. "You weren't kidding,” he said. He's got a flair for the dramatic."

"Tell me about it," you muttered. "He's always been like this."

More than once, on your rehearsals, you’d find Kenji standing by the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

"Nice performance, (y/n)," he called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Almost believed you were someone else."

You paused, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing here, Kenji?” You asked. “Lost your way to the field?"

The director looked between the two of you, intrigued. "Friend of yours, (y/n)?" He asked.

"Hardly," you answered, crossing your arms. "Just someone who thinks he's more important than he actually is."

Kenji grinned, unfazed. "Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he said. “You know, your acting. Seems like everyone's talking about it."

"Well, I'm flattered," you said dryly. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have real work to do."

As Kenji left, one of your fellow actors whispered, "He really gets under your skin, doesn't he?"

You sighed, shaking her head. "He's been doing it for years."

During hell week, your exams season, you’d spend your time in the library a little longer. Of course, Kenji knew about this. He’s been keeping tabs on you since coming across you when you were freshmen.

You were studying in a quiet corner of the library when Kenji walked in. He made his way over, pulling out a chair across from you.

"Studying hard, I see," he said, grinning. "Trying to finally beat me at something?"

You looked up, exasperated. "Kenji, some of us actually have exams to prepare for,” you replied. “Don't you have a game to practice for?"

"Already did," he said. "Thought I'd see what the academic life is like. How's the memorizing going? More lines to learn?"

"At least I use my brain for something other than sports," you shot back.

A nearby student, overhearing the exchange, glanced over with curiosity. "Do you two always bicker like this?"

You nodded, not missing a beat, “Pretty much. It's our thing."

Kenji laughed, leaning back in his chair, "Can't let her get too comfortable, can I?"

As he left, the student shook his head, smiling, "You two have a strange relationship."

You didn’t even know that guy or from what program he’s in. It felt like it was high school all over again where everyone knew of your rivalry, and it’s the only thing they knew between you two.

And soon enough, it will be what the world knows about you two.

PART THREE

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

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[babygorewhore]

Tempo

Frat!Rafe Cameron x sporty! fem reader!

As Kiara’s older sister, gifted athlete and now college student, you never had time for dating. Or time to acknowledge your secret crush on Rafe Cameron. But when your eighteen year old little sister visits, she pushes you to attend one of his parties.

W.C. 2.4k. I was requested by anon for inexperienced!reader! And size kink! I hope you enjoy!! I lowkey wanna burn this lol

Warnings! I am NOT an athlete by any means so this is very vague lol. Size kink! Inexperienced reader! Manhandling, slapping kink! (Rafe likes to be slapped) degrading, praise, oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex! Reader is sporty and frequently works out. Kiara is also OOC but it’s my fic lol. Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Getting a visit from your parents and little sister motivated you for the performance as you accepted flowers and praise after the competition. Your mother and father finally allowed Kiara to stay the weekend with you on campus, you managed to convince them that your eighteen year old baby sister would be completely safe with you.

You knew they were mostly attempting to keep her away from Pogues back home but with your down to earth nature she felt comfortable to get along with you.

“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time studying something else. Why don’t you go to a fancy art school or some shit? Follow your dreams!” Kiara flopped on your bed in your dorm and you sighed.

“Because. Sports aren’t a long lasting career choice for me. Besides, if you want to live with me, I need to have a good paying job, right?” You countered as you sipped a protein shake.

“You need to stop thinking about everyone else. Think of yourself. You don’t have a life. All you do is study, work and compete. You’ve got to be so bored.” She argues, folding her arms.

“I’m not bored, Kiara. I stay busy and I’m fine with that. And I do have a life! I have a few friends and I have you.” You mumble and she lifts herself up, walking over to you and lightly elbows you.

“You know how much I hate them, they’re a waste of money that could be used for donations but what about parties? Have you gone to any?” Rolling your eyes, you groan at her lecture.

You knew she was jealous of your freedom, considering her relationship with your parents and her full time job. But she also didn’t understand you. The pressure you’d always been under. At a young age, you were in gymnastics. Building your body like a machine while you spent everyday challenging yourself to meet your next goal. And you were good at it.

Your wall was covered in medals, your shelf had a few trophies and photographs of your proud moments.

Dancing was a natural evolution for you. Something you’d discovered when one of your gymnast friends opened their own studio after graduating high school a few years ago. The fluidity of movement, the tempo of the beat and music brought you to life. You were strong, frequently at the gym to keep up with having to flip yourself around in the air with your part time job that was physically demanding.

Your life was fast paced, a competitive streak in your blood motivated you to remain disciplined and focused. Your guilt for being so busy was one of the reasons you wanted Kiara to stay with you this weekend. But she did have a point.

You didn’t have time for dating. You’d never had a boyfriend, guys in the past weren’t exactly pleased that you could fairly put up a physical fight given your athletic lifestyle and razor sharp drive. Men found you…boring. You had an obsession with Halloween and darker things too. It was a nice change from the neon uniforms you were forced to wear.

Her question about parties reminded you of a instagram post you were tagged in yesterday and Kiara must have sensed your train of thought. “Don’t tell me you were invited to one and you’re not gonna go?”

“I’ve been too busy! Plus I wanted to hang out with you-“

“It’s tonight?” She shrieked and started shoving you to your bedroom. “What the hell are we doing? You need to get ready.”

“Kiara, I’m not going to some stupid party. I’m tired from dancing earlier and besides Rafe Cameron isn’t going to notice one person who doesn’t show up.”

“I fucking knew it. You’ve been crushing on that asshole for years. That’s why you were so happy you got into this school.” She accused and you defensively shook your head.

“No I haven’t-“

“Me and Sarah knew you liked him when you shoved him in the pool years ago when he was messing with us when you were life guarding. And that’s why you always offered to babysit during high school. You just wanted to be near him.” Kiara made your jaw drop and you turned away.

“That’s not true! He’s a dick! Why would I like someone like Rafe? That’s why I’m ignoring his invitation.” She extended her hand.

“Let me see the post.” You grumbled something about how your little sister was the one bossing you around and you slapped your phone in her palm.

She read the invite with her mouth parted. “It’s a fucking Halloween themed party? You can dress up and you’re not going? He’s obviously obsessed with you.” You yank your phone back.

“What are you talking about? He’s not!”

“He was there tonight. I saw him watching you dance in the crowd.” You gasped and you felt your cheeks burn. “And now, he’s doing something knowing you like it. Get out of those damn sweatpants and put on something cute. You’re going to that party.”

“No I’m not! I don’t like Rafe Cameron and listen here you little goblin,” Kiara ignored you as she dug through your drawers for another set of clothes.

She tossed you an oversized shirt with skulls on it, knee socks and your converse. “Here. This is good.”

“Why do you want me to go so badly? You hate Rafe!” You complained and she waved her hands.

“Yeah I do. But I want you to have fun. Let loose for one night. Show off what you worked for and finally put yourself first.” You raised an eyebrow.

“You really wanna talk to someone don’t you and you don’t want me hovering?” She was finally silent for a few seconds and you smirked triumphantly. “Fine. I’ll go to this damn party.” You walked away, preparing to change clothes but you gave her a light smack upside the head.

“Ow! The hell was that for?” She whined.

“For telling me what to do.”

You felt your heart in your throat as you knocked on the door of the house where the party was held. You could hear the sound of music and chatter from behind the door as you shifted your weight from leg to leg.

Your face was covered in makeup and your jewelry dangled from your neck as you waited. The entrance opened and Topper ushered you in. “Hey! Look who it is! The girl of the hour!” His arm slung around your shoulders and the bustling crowd cheered. You awkwardly smiled and waved. Girl of the hour?

“Cmon. Rafe is upstairs.” Just the mention of the males name made you swallow thickly and you followed him. A lot of people were wearing costumes, fake blood and merchandise from scary movies.

You recognized Rafe because of his clothing and body but his face was covered. He was wearing a Ghostface mask. Plain black shirt and jeans. Your eyes widened briefly when he turned, noticing you before you smoothed back your nerves and approached him. He met you half way and looked down at you, mask tilted.

“You did show up after all, princess.”

You give him a smile. “Yeah I did. I heard you were at the dance. Did you like what you saw?” You didn’t know where this confidence was coming from but he seemed to be enjoying it. Rafe stepped a little closer, “Oh I loved it, baby. That’s why I told everyone to dress up. Gotta celebrate my little champion, huh?”

“Champion?” You parrot and he chuckles.

“Of course, Angel. You think I’m stupid or something? I’ve been a big fan of yours for a while. I couldn’t wait to get you here so I could have you all to myself.” He trails off quietly and you feel his big hands settle on your hips, squeezing lightly.

“Well, we’re not alone,” You respond and he tugs you against him, as much as you love the mask, you wanna rip it off.

“Easy fix, baby girl. C‘mon.” Instead of walking, Rafe lifted you off the ground and you squeaked. Throwing you over his shoulder, he walked through a hallway before opening a door.

Rafe easily tossed you onto the bed, the plush covers and pillows bounced. You shakily sat up as he tore off the mask and looked down at you with a dark smolder.

“Oh, princess. You have no fuckin idea how long I’ve wanted you in my bed.” He leaned down and put both hands on either side of you as you looked up at him, doe eyes staring into his.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything? Why would you like me? I’ve never told you-“

“Like you? Baby, I don’t just like you. I think about you all the time. No one else has made me feel like this. You’ve always stood up to me and didn’t put up with my shit. You think it’s a coincidence that I liked to push your buttons when we were kids?”

You’re breathless as he tugs on the end of your shirt with a smirk.

“I like a girl who pushes back. You’re my strong girl, hmm? But not tonight. You’re not in control for once. I am.” He grips your waist, your bare skin from your top pulled up and your core pulses.

You reach up, lightly smacking him in the face. “You think you can earn my submission?” Rafe gives you a chuckle and flash of excitement crosses his eyes.

“Princess, by the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna be my little fuck toy. You just wanna push my buttons so I throw you around.” His words turned you on more and you shudder as goosebumps rise on your skin. “Slap me again. Get a good one in too.”

“You serious?” You whisper and he nods.

“What? You too scared?”

You slap him. Hard. Hard enough that his face turns but Rafe doesn’t look angry. “That was a good one, baby. But I’m gonna make you forget any other fucker. I’m sure all those other dudes are all over you at the studio or some shit.” He grunts and tugs off your shirt. Exposing your torso and bra.

You have the urge to cover yourself but you resist. “I don’t have time for dating.”

Rafe pauses and raises an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you haven’t dated? You a virgin?”

You bristle. “No but…it’s only happened once.”

Rafe cups underneath your arms and manhandles you higher on the bed. You don’t have time to breathe before you find yourself pinned with your arms above your head, his face inches above yours. “Bet you’re soaked right now. Underneath those panties you wear.”

He reaches in between your legs and cups your cunt. “God damn, princess. This what you needed? Me to take care of you? Shut off that overthinking head of yours?” He muses and you cup his face bringing him down to fuse your lips together in a messy kiss.

He moans against your mouth and shoves his tongue inside, you separate your legs and tug him closer.

“Gonna taste more than your mouth, baby girl.” He promises and kisses down your body, peeling off your underwear.

“I’m gonna worship this perfect pussy. I’m gonna take such good care of my girl,” He mutters against your pelvis. Rafe shoves your thighs apart and buried his head in, making you groan and dig your fingers onto the sheets.

His tongue laps hungrily at your clit, sucking in all your wetness as he moans and grinds on the bed. You whimper as he fucks you with his mouth.

“You like that, babydoll?”

“Mhm! I’m gonna cum,” You stammer and he lifts up, his massive body flexing as he rips off his shirt. Exposing his fit body.

“You’re gonna cream on my dick, then you’re gonna clean it up. Are you going to be a good little whore?” He breathes and you whine.

“Mhm, yes. Please, fuck me. I need it so badly. I want you to fill me up,” You beg and he shoves off his pants. His big, thick dick slapping against his thigh.

“How can I say no to such a pretty girl?” He gives your bare ass a slap before he pumps himself a couple of times, his cock in his fist before he presses into you.

You mewl and bury your head in his neck. He growls and thrusts, hard enough that you almost feel like you’re gonna burst from how big he is. But he quickly adds his fingers to rub your clit.

“This fuckin pussy is mine. It’s so tight, splitting you in two, baby girl. Gonna breed this perfect cunt.” He huffs and your eyes squeeze shut as your peak rises.

“That’s it, princess. Cream on my dick.” He praises and your climax overwhelms you.

You cry out and sink your teeth into his naked shoulder and he moans. He moves harder, bringing slight pain but it only adds to your pleasure. He spills in you, “Gonna stuff you so full of cum you’re gonna be a brainless little doll.”

Rafe pulls out, pumping himself again as cum drips onto the bed. “Give me that pretty mouth, princess. I wanna see your eyes roll back. You can fuckin take it. Like a little champion.”

Tagging @marchsfreakshow @xxbimbobunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @redhead1180 @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @rafeinterlude @gri959 @rafesthroatbaby @slvt4jamesmarch

[nectardaddy]

notebook paper | hinata shoyo

introductions | roomies failing stats

masterlist

yn is an education major wanting to teach science in junior high, she's in her semester of student teaching

suga is an elementary education major wanting to teach lower elementary, he's also in his student teaching semester

please give thoughts and prayers to these 2 these are the worst times of their lives (I had multiple mental breakdowns during my student teaching days)

kiyoko is a business management major. she loves it. she's thriving. she hates the frat boy terrain it comes with though

kenma is a computer science major. thoughts and prayers. constantly turns assignments in late because he forgets the due date.

yes they all failed stats and had to take it again and they haven't changed the gc name since

they all met their first semester at college and beat the first friend group dividing plauge

they all live together in an apartment off campus

tanaka basically lives there rent free but he's the certified bug killer whenever he's there

suga and yn are probably the closest out of all of them because they have so many classes together

it is a running competition between the 2 of them of who can tell the most outrageous stories from school possible

yn is winning (middle schoolers are INSANE)

kenma and kiyoko both think they'd certified insane for thinking half of those stories are funny

@muyyie @wyrcan @eggyrocks @eclecticeggknightpsychic

[coalswriting]

competition gone wrong - lottie matthews

summary – after lottie doesn’t return to the cabin from her competition with natalie, (y/n) looks for her. (approx 2.3k words)

a/n – hello i am probably Not back because uhh. i’m very busy, but i am rewatching yellowjackets with my friend whenever i get the chance :^) i just watched s2e4 so i wanted to write something based on that. did not proofread this so it’s probably a mess too!! sorry in advance. i desperately need to sleep LOL.

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the heat of the distant sunset beat down on your back as you struggled to walk through deep snow. though it was unbelievably cold, you didn’t stop your trek, looking around at your surroundings cautiously.

the others had gone with natalie to uncover a frozen moose that she had found while you? you were looking for lottie. you had a bad feeling since the moment their weird competition was established this morning; you were all sitting, still drowsy from the early hour mixed with the cold room, and nat had gotten into an argument with someone about food, mari perhaps? long story short, lottie was volunteered to challenge nat on who would find food faster. it had almost felt like lottie couldn’t fight for herself – everyone had so much hope in her, and she didn’t want to let that falter.

truth be told, you didn’t believe in hope. it was a dangerous thing; too much of it led to ignorance, and that only took people so far. humanity was greedy. they always pinned their deepest desires on anything but themselves, whether it be an omnipotent force, or even just a seventeen-year-old girl with a strange understanding of the wilderness. either way, you believed in lottie, not because you had ‘hope’, but because you knew that you would climb to the deepest depths of tartarus for her if it meant keeping her safe. and thus, here you were, walking around a deadly silent blanket of snow, weaving through trees, looking for lottie matthews. 

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when you first enrolled in wiskayok high school, you were a bit of an outsider. your family had moved from houston. they always told you that it was because your father had received an incredible job opportunity in wiskayok, but you knew it was secretly because you would return home from school, covered in bruises with tearstained cheeks. you were considered a loser in your old school and fell victim to all the bullying. girls constantly pretended to be kind to you, only to spread rumours behind your back, boys would ask you out, and then laugh in your face, and you constantly dealt with rubbish stuffed in your bag, or gum tangled in your hair. school faculty didn’t do much, probably because many of your bullies’ families funded the school. they claimed that the bullying would stop with time.

besides, it wasn’t too much of a loss on your family to move; wiskayok wasn’t anything special. housing prices were dirt cheap, and your parents were respectively an engineer and a hairdresser. they could find work anywhere.

your first day at whs was in the middle of the second semester of 8th grade. your brain managed to block out much of the anxiety, but as you stood in the middle of the cafeteria double doors during lunch, it all began to set in. you felt like a startled, hurt animal, mouth slightly agape, scanning the room for a free seat, anywhere. students peered up at you, studying you, like you were a strange specimen in a lab. suddenly, you felt a harsh shove on your shoulder as a deep masculine voice muttered “out of the way, loser!”

you inhaled sharply, regaining your balance, and shaking yourself off. you felt yourself shrink as some witnesses began to laugh. then, you felt a hand on your shoulder, and you turned around to look at the source. she was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen; she was a bit taller than you and had long flowy chestnut hair with curtain bangs and the deepest brown eyes. you felt like you were getting lost in them. her eyebrows furrowed, as she seemed to repeat herself.

“are you okay?”

“huh?” you spluttered, regaining your consciousness. you felt sick to the stomach, and your hands developed a newfound sweatiness. “yeah, sorry.. i’m okay.”

“those jocks are dickheads,” she dismissed, then she smiled at you, and holy shit. that weird sickness in your stomach became fifty times worse, and you had to forcefully rip your eyes away from her out of a genuine fear that you would die on the spot. “i’m charlotte, but everyone just calls me lottie. are you new here?”

“i’m (y/n),” you finally said, finding the confidence to make eye contact again, heat spreading up your spine. you hoped your cheeks weren’t going red. “i’m new, yeah. i moved from houston.”

“oh, wow!”, her eyes almost seemed to sparkle with admiration, “that’s a huge city! what are you doing down here in little old wiskayok?”

before you could reply, a ginger girl appeared behind lottie, looping an arm around her neck – you would later discover her to be vanessa palmer – “lot, stop torturing the newbie. cmon, i’m starving!”

lottie laughed, swinging the ginger’s arm off her, “okay, okay!”, she giggled, before turning to you. once again, she put her hand on your shoulder. “you want to come and sit with my friends? well, our table is the girls’ soccer team, but i’m sure they won’t mind you joining us. oooh, maybe you could try out! do you like soccer?”

she seemed to talk a lot, you noticed. you weren’t too sure if it was because she was as nervous as you, or if she was just a very chatty person, but you liked it. you liked her. she was nice.

eventually, you did try out for the girls’ soccer team, the yellowjackets. and surprisingly, you somehow got in. with that, you became closer to the team, especially lottie and van.

however, when the plane crashed on the way to nationals, four years later, everything changed. you were still enamoured by lottie, but she was different now – not smiling much and very quiet. van seemed like a stranger to you, and you had seen a side of taissa, natalie, and shauna that you never thought you’d see. they were imposters. and jackie and laura lee? you shuddered as you thought about them, alongside all the others that had passed away during the initial crash. they were once your friends, but you never had given yourself the chance to process their deaths. even as you sat upright in the middle of the night, crying tears of mourning over them, it never felt real. the concept of them dying was artificial in your head, and despite seeing their bodies, you concluded that you would probably never convince yourself that they were really dead.

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the snow had begun to pile on heavily and you could see your breath with every steep step you took. you were growing desperate now, the sun setting at a faster pace than you expected. you guessed that you only had about an hour of sunlight left before you would be plunged into darkness with only the merciful moon to guide you. it was probably wiser for you to turn back and continue your search tomorrow, but you knew you couldn’t stop yourself from looking for her if you tried.

suddenly, turning a corner, you saw a form a few metres from you. your breath caught in your throat, as you shuffled (as fast as possible) towards her – lottie.

“lottie?” you gasped, wiping snow off her face, confirming her suspicions. “lottie, do you hear me?!”

your voice was a little louder now, laboured with thick panic that stung in your throat like bile. her cheeks were rosy, contrasting her pale, greying face. you didn’t want to see her meet the same demise as jackie, so you whipped your thick jacket off, and after a struggle, you managed to get it on her. realistically, this was an incredibly stupid decision, but with adrenaline coursing through your veins, you felt unstoppable. and damn, did adrenaline take you far.

“hang in there, lottie, not yet, please…” you murmured, carrying her with all your might. about fifteen minutes had passed, and your thighs were burning. lottie’s starved form was heavier than you expected, and your energy was running out. you felt yourself collapse into the snow, the cold wetness seeping into your skin. then, you heard the urgent voices of mari and akailah as they called your names. 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“don’t beat yourself up over it,” lottie smiled warmly, putting a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. you had fumbled an important game mid-season, and it seemed like mari and taissa were mad at you. playing with the strings of your hoodie, you met her eyes, your stomach doing backflips. in a way to cheer you up, lottie had taken you on a ‘date’ – her words, though you wish they were a reality – to a café, and then a walk through the park.

you leaned back against the worn fabric of the seat, groaning. “is it that obvious that i’m thinking obsessively about it?”

“yes, (y/n),” she laughed, poking you in the forehead. “you always beat yourself up after our games; it’s like you never let yourself be proud.”

you reached to slap at her hand, but she pulled way before you could make contact, “i just always like to know what i could’ve done better. i’m not that great at soccer, i don’t even know how i got on the team!” you groaned, “like you’re all so perfect, and then i’m constantly messing up somehow.”

lottie went quiet for a moment, studying you as if you were an ancient scripture, like everything you presented was important to her. “you are so much more than you think (y/n),” she said, admirably, “you are one of our most adaptable players, and you’re so, so, analytical. you bring so much to this team, and you don’t even know. why do you think i always pass the ball to you in a tight situation?”

before you could answer, she continued, “it’s because you’re so damn dependable!” then lottie laughed, and winked at you, “also, you’ve a super sexy bod, and i always catch myself admiring you in the changing room.”

you choked on your hot chocolate, feeling your heart suddenly beat much faster in your chest. a ghost of a blush lined lottie’s cheeks as she reached over the table to put a hand on yours. “look, (y/n),” she murmured, voice suddenly soft, “i uh…”

you awaited her answer, feeling a sudden tsunami of anxiety wash through your body. you wanted to hide, but you wanted to hear more of what she had to say. lottie’s cheeks grew even more pink, before she tore her eyes away from your (e/c) ones. after a few seconds of silence, she looked up at you again, much more composed than she was only half a minute prior, “want to ditch this joint?”

and that, is how the two of you ended up in some isolated part of the public park, laughing and huffing, out of breath. “fuck your long legs, lot,” you gasped, leaning against a tree. lottie’s laughter boomed through the flora, as she tackled you to the ground. the both of you wrestled a little, but after a few minutes, lottie reigned victorious. she brushed your hair out of your face, staring at you.

“wh-what’s up?”, you whispered, and you swore that she could definitely feel the thumping in your ribcage.

lottie smiled at you, gently. but this time, it wasn’t her normal smile – this smile was full of fondness. “just admiring,” she muttered, and before you could process anything, her lips were on yours.

you never talked about your feelings after that day.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

a loud ringing invaded your head as you slowly regained control of your senses. everything was so bright, and you felt uncomfortably warm, if not too hot. as you tested the movement of your limbs, you felt something wrapped around your stomach. your strength slowly came back, and your eyes fluttered open.

you were in the cabin.

“huh?”, you said to nobody in particular. you almost jumped out of your skin as a husky voice reverberated near your ear.

“thank fuck you’re awake, (y/n).”

you craned your neck slightly, meeting lottie’s captivating brown eyes. you moved to pull away, but felt, what you now figured out was her arm, wrap tighter around you. looking down, you noticed that you were in the tub, and you were naked.

“w-what happened?” you gasped, reaching to cover yourself. lottie half-sighed-half-chuckled as she sunk her nose into your hair.

“i almost died, and you saved me. akailah and mari found us together, and based on the footsteps, you carried me a long way. thank you.”

you went quiet as you recalled what happened; how you had hurried through the snowy landscape, taken your jacket off for lottie, and carried her before losing consciousness. there was no beating the in-love-with-lottie allegations that van had made against you before the day of the plane crash.

“why did you do it?”, lottie continued, “the wilderness wanted me to die, so why?”

you felt your throat stiffen as your brain whirred with various answers. after a moment of silence, you decided to listen to your beating heart and come clean. there wasn’t much reason not to since you would all probably die out here.

“because, lottie matthews, i’m in love with you.”

you began to regret everything when lottie didn’t reply. however, she didn’t disappoint you for long.

“i don’t regret kissing you in the park that one time.”

you broke into a laugh, “is that all you have to say?”, and you felt her squeeze you before planting a kiss on your shoulder.

“i think you know how i feel. you’re the only one who keeps me grounded, and you’re always there for me. i never feel lonely when i’m around you.”

that was enough confirmation for you. sometimes less was more, and you leaned into lottie’s touch in the tub, enjoying the feeling of her skin on yours.

well, until taissa told the both of you to stop hogging the hot water.

[animehideout]

Hello!! can you do gojo x dumb but kind reader?

like reader could be playing a game and someone starts bragging to her about how they won and she just like "Oh okay well I think you were really good! you deserve it:D"

Like she can making anyone who was insulting her feel bad in seconds

and gojo sometimes calls u dumb or makes joke that you don't understand so you think he's serious or calling you dumb so you start crying and he has to make it up to you (^o^)

Please and thank you lots of fluff as well!!!

Gojo Satoru X Dumb but Kind Fem! Reader

a/n: thanks anon for this request, and sorry for the late update 🫶🏻

ps: I'm working on all the requests, sorry for taking too long to post all of them, but there are a lot of requests + working on Wattpad so thank you for your understanding

It became a weekly routine for you to gather in the Jujutsu high school common room, playing games together to unwind and have some fun, aiming to relieve stress of the missions. Occasionally, students from Kyoto high schools joined in for friendly competitions.

Gojo, was always there, he has always enjoyed the competitive spirit during these sessions.

The air was full of laughter and cracking jokes every now and then. You were quietly playing by yourself in a corner, minding your own business. But, your peace had to be interrupted by none other than Mai. She's always eager to tease and make fun of you without any apparent reason. She enjoyed showing off, knowing you wouldn't fight back. You're just too kind for this world.

She approached you and everyone in the room knew what she's about to say, a smirk revealing her intentions.

"Watcha doing, Y/n? Oh, you're still there. I don't think you made any progress. You see, I already won that game—all the levels."

Her aim was clear: to make you feel weak, dumb and like a loser. However, you excelled at turning insults into lessons in kindness. Without missing a beat, you paused your game, flashed a smile, and responded,

"Oh, wonderful! You did well Mai; you deserve it."

It's Mai we're talking about, so she wouldn't feel bad, but rather embarrassed. She continually attempted to bring you down, but always faces your kindness every time. Not only her, but others often underestimated your abilities, often teasing you about it and calling you names.

Perhaps because it takes you a bit longer than others to understand something, but that's completely normal. People are just mean.

"Hey, why don't you compete with her?" suggested one of them.

"Whaaat?. She'd probably get her ass beaten in less than 3 seconds," exclaimed Mai's best friend.

"I think Mai is a formidable opponent; she's brilliant," you responded with a friendly smile, shifting your focus back to your game.

They exchanged glances, attempting to provoke you, but couldn't. Your kindness often shields you, either because you don't fully grasp their intentions to bully you or because you don't take them or their words too seriously. After all, why let someone your age calling you dumb make you feel sad?

However, this is not the case with Gojo Satoru.

You take him way too seriously, hanging on to each word as if it were truth. You know it's his nature to be playful and teasing, but his occasional jokes have a different impact on you. Despite this, you've never dared to confront him. Instead, you've worn a fake smile, blinking away tears. But today was different; it became your breaking point.

Finally, Mai left you alone, granting you some peace to play without disturbance. While others were busy competing and laughing, you didn't notice Gojo standing right behind you. A small mistake slipped into your gameplay, one that could have been easily avoided, but you couldn't help it.

"That was a dumb move, Y/n!" Gojo exclaimed, startling you.

"Huh?"

"That mistake could have been easily avoided, but you had to be dumb as usual" he added, rolling his eyes.

A lump formed in your throat, tears threatening to fall.

"I-I was just—" you stuttered.

"You've gotta practice if you want to be like your friends. I'm not only talking about this game but real life too" he added.

Unable to respond, your eyes remained fixed on the game in front of you. They were red from holding back tears, and you didn't want him to see.

Gojo then stood in the center of the common room and said,

"Hey, guys, listen to this joke. Why did that kind girl try to tell a joke about time travel?" He started , and when they asked why, he said, "Because she thought it was about fixing all her past misunderstandings. Turns out she couldn't grasp the punchline in any timeline."

The room erupted in laughter.

"That was a good one" said one of the students.

You stood there feeling out of place, realizing the joke was about you from the way everyone laughed and pointed.

Overwhelmed, you excused yourself from the crowded room, seeking comfort in the garden. The weight on your chest felt unbearable, and tears were threatening to fall. Gojo, sensed your distress when you left the room, mentally cursed himself, his joke might have gone far. So he decided to follow you.

He found you on the stairs, tears streaming down your face as you gazed at the trees.Concerned, he approached,

"Hey Y/n, are you okay?"

It was time to confront him. Keeping your focus on the trees, your voice cracked as you spoke,

"Why do you always do that? Make fun of me in front of everyone? Is it fair to call me dumb for the slightest mistakes?" Frustration overflowed.

Gojo's playful side vanished, replaced by sincerity and seriousness,

"I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry if it seemed that way. I didn't realize it was affecting you like this."

Wiping away your tears, you replied,

"Giving no reaction and faking a smile doesn't mean it doesn't affect me. I'm just good at hiding it."

He felt really bad, realizing that he took it too far this time and that his jokes and teasing had been making you sad all the time.

"Why do you even do it?" you asked again.

"I thought it was all good and fun, just like with everyone else. I was trying to lighten the mood. I didn't know it bothered you that much. Sorry about that, princess. I'll make it up to you."

"Nah you don't have to" you resisted,

but he insisted,

"No, I want to." Standing up, he exclaimed, pulling you close.

With his thumbs, he wiped your tears and tucked your hair behind your ears, whispering,

"Let me fix it. I'm sorry for making you feel that way. You're a kind soul. Would you give me a chance?"

You're too kind to turn him down so you nodded.

"come on show me that precious smile of yours here you go princess oh I love that sweet smile I'll make sure it never leaves your face"

To say the least, he made you feel significantly better. His comforting gestures were genuine and sincere. you could feel him pulling you into a warm, big hug.

You're precious to him, and teasing is his way of expressing love.

"You're too good for this world Y/n!!"

He realized that sometimes words even in jest, could cut deeper than intended. He promised to be more careful, acknowledging that people might not see through good intentions, since people can't read minds.

So it's always better to speak something positive or remain silent.

if anyone treats you with disrespect, make sure to defend yourselves pookies. Never let anyone calls you dumb or underestimates you. You're too precious, you're unique, don't let people bring you down! speak up and defend yourselves 🫶🏻💪🏻

[agaypanic]

Enemies to lovers with Chase: he’s obviously a bionic genius but after being enrolled in school he develops a rivalry with the smartest girl in school and he’s constantly competing with her until they get partnered for a project and realize how much they actually like each other.

Swear Not By The Moon (Chase Davenport X Reader)

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Summary: Being a man with bionic super smarts, Chase excelled at everything and was always ahead of everyone. When he first started going to Mission Creek High, he unknowingly became rivals with you, the smartest girl in school. When you have to work together on a project, you realize that Chase Davenport might not be so bad.

A/N: the davenport siblings each have their own room bc (can’t remember if its canon but i dont think it is) i feel like after starting school, they’d get real rooms in case they had friends over and whatever. title inspired by romeo and juliet dialogue teehee. idk if this is giving good academic rivals but i tried lmao

***

It was completely unintentional, Chase constantly competing with you at school. He had bionic super smarts, so it was inevitable that he would climb to the top of the food chain. Academically speaking, of course. 

But before him, you dominated everyone else around you. You had for years. So when Chase Davenport waltzed in and suddenly became the best academic student at Mission Creek High, you felt an intense need to put him in his place.

Because of your high placements, you shared all of your classes together. One AP or Honors class after another, you had to see that stupid grin on his stupid face as he got a question right or corrected a teacher’s mistake. Not that he saw, because he was too busy putting his nose in books, reading chapters ahead of where the class was in the curriculum.

You figured the only way to beat him was to study your ass off. You already devoted a lot of your time to your studies, but that felt like child’s play compared to now. You had your lunch in the library, sneakily taking bites of food so the librarian would see you eating. As soon as you got home, you’d study for at least an hour. Sometimes, you’d even do some reading in the morning before you had to leave the house for school.

Chase finally seemed to notice you when one of your teachers posted the results of your latest tests. He was bewildered to see that someone had scored one point more than him. He looked around the class to try and figure out who it was, and when he saw you smirking at your grade, he knew it was you.

The silent competition between the two of you didn’t stop. Now that Chase was aware that you were rivaling him, he doubled his efforts, no matter how much teasing he got from his siblings. 

Then, one day, the rivalry wasn’t so silent.

“Davenport.” You greeted him with a single word, not even looking at him. 

“L/n.”

The two of you stood next to each other, looking at the grades you and your classmates got on a recent midterm. You lifted a finger, letting it scan over the names until you got to Chase’s.

“One hundred percent! Very good.” You mused, and you could see him smirking out of the corner of your eye.

“It was nothing.” He said with a shrug.

“Now… what did I get?” You asked yourself quietly, moving your finger until you got to your name. You both gasped, you with feigned surprise and him with disbelief. “One hundred and one percent! Wow.”

“How did you…” You finally turned to look at Chase, smiling innocently at him. His mouth hung open slightly, and you couldn’t help but lift his chin to close it.

“Mrs. Roberts told us there’d be a chance for extra credit. I guess you should’ve been more thorough.” The pleasure you felt from seeing Chase’s reaction made the grueling hours of studying immensely worth it. “Better luck next time.”

You walked away, a bit of a pep in your step now. Chase stared at you until you were out of sight, and then he sneered.

“Oh, it is on.”

***

For the rest of the year, you and Chase battled to be at the top of your classes. Extracurriculars just made the fight more intense. You’d win first place at the local science fair, he’d win first place at a debate championship. When one of you placed first, the other grumbled with their second-place trophy and swore they would win gold the next time.

You were actually excited for the end of the school year. The little rivalry you had formed with Chase Davenport was starting to wear you out, although you’d never say that out loud. Especially to him. 

But before the school year could end, you had one more project for your history class. This time, you would be paired off with a classmate, and you’d have to work together to create a presentation on a specific era, highlighting important figures and events of the time.

“Please be someone good.” You muttered to yourself as your teacher read out the list of partners. Eventually, she got to you.

“Y/n L/n and Chase Davenport.”

You froze in your spot, not paying attention as she continued listing people before going into more detail on your project requirements. Your eyes darted to Chase, who was already looking at you. You couldn’t help but sneer at him. The one person you had a strong distaste for, an academic enemy, was now your partner on a month-long project that would greatly affect your final grade.

How could this go wrong?

“So…” The teacher gave you the last five minutes of class to talk to your partner. Chase stood next to your desk, looking down at you. “Do you want to go to your house or mine? For the project.”

“I don’t care.” You answered while packing your belongings into your backpack.

“How about my place then? We can go today after school.”

“Fine by me.”

***

You knew that the Davenports, their father to be more specific, were wealthy. But that information didn’t make you any less stunned when you saw the mansion at the end of your slightly uncomfortable and awkward walk with Chase. And you were even more taken aback when you walked inside. Sleek designs, attractive decor, and a beautiful view out of windows that made up an entire wall.

“We can go to my room,” Chase suggested as you took in your surroundings. “I have a lot of desk space there.”

“Okay.” You replied. You figured that the very least you could do was try to be civil with Chase. After all, this was an important grade, and you’d have to work with him for a whole month.

Chase pulled a stool to his desk for you to sit on while he settled into his desk chair. You took out your notebook and a pen, flipping to a blank page. Chase did the same.

“Do you have any ideas?” You asked, tapping the tip of your pen against the paper.

It took a while, but you eventually settled on the Elizabethan era. Considered a golden age and famous for different creative ventures such as theater and literature. It would be easy to fill a presentation with quality and interesting information. The two of you brainstormed different topics to bring up, writing them down in your notebooks when your pen suddenly stopped working.

“Damn.” You muttered, scribbling in the corner to try to get the ink to reappear.

“What’s wrong?” Chase asked, looking up from his paper to see you drop your pen in your bag and look around for a replacement.

“I ran out of ink.” You sighed in frustration, unable to find another writing utensil. You pulled your bag onto your lap for a closer look. “I swear I had-”

You cut yourself off when Chase’s hand came into view. He held a pen, waiting for you to take it. After a moment of hesitation, you grabbed it, setting your backpack down on the floor.

“Thanks.” You said, looking at the pen for a brief moment before getting back to writing.

***

Wanting to get as much useful information as possible, you decided to go to the library after school the next day. You didn’t know what Chase was doing, but you hoped that he would put as much effort into this as you were. 

You headed straight for the classics section, knowing that Shakespeare was prominent during the time period you and Chase were looking into. You’ve had to read a few of his plays for different English classes, but you were eager to read them again.

Searching the bookshelves, you soon saw that Shakespeare’s plays were on the top shelf, which you could reach without a step stool. There were a few scattered around the library, but a quick glance showed that there wasn’t one in your section. You went to the next book aisle, hoping to find one.

“Y/n?” Chase’s voice startled you. He was in the next aisle, seeing you before you saw him. Although surprised by your presence, he offered you a polite smile. “What are you doing here?”

You had to tell yourself to hold back a snarky response. Although you didn’t care much for Chase inside of school, that didn’t mean you had to be a bitch to him outside of it. Besides, he was being pleasant to you. It confused you, but you decided not to ask him about it.

“Same as you, I’m thinking.” You finally say, noticing some books about English history stacked in his hands. “I’m looking for a stool to get the books I need.”

Spotting one at the end of the aisle, Chase grabbed the stool, balancing the small pile of books he had in one hand.

“Where’s your books?” He asked, waiting for you to lead the way. It stunned you a little that he didn’t just give you the stool or let you grab it yourself, but you decided not to overthink it.

Back in your section, he set the stool down where you needed it. Instead of saying goodbye and leaving, Chase stood by the bookcase, watching you stand on the footstool.

You started grabbing books, becoming more excited with each title you looked over. Now, having your own stack of books, you looked down and tried to carefully lower yourself to the ground.

“Careful,” Chase murmured, and you felt the warmth of his hand hover against your back. He didn’t touch you, but his hand stayed close until you were stable on the ground. “Don’t wanna, you know, ruin the books if you fall.”

You rolled your eyes before looking up at Chase, not realizing how close you were to him until now.

“Thanks.” You said a bit hesitantly.

“No problem.” He responded. The two of you stood in silence, not knowing how to continue. You wondered if you’d keep having moments like this with him. No glares or sour thoughts. Just a bit of silence caused by some friendly action. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow?”

“What?” You asked, not expecting the question.

“For the project.” Chase clarified. 

“Oh. Sure, I think I’m free.”

“Great.” Chase smiled at you. “See you tomorrow then.”

***

You don’t know what was happening to you. It had been two weeks since you started working on this project with Chase, and he was gradually becoming the only thing on your mind. Sure, you thought about him often before this. But those thoughts were always accompanied by feelings of annoyance when he’d get a higher grade than you or disgust when he’d give you his signature smirk of condescension. 

What you felt now was something hard to describe. It was something warm and enjoyable, but as enjoyable as it was, it made you slightly dread seeing Chase because you didn’t know what the feeling meant. 

He didn’t even have to be around you for you to feel it. The other day you remembered that you still had the pen he let you borrow the first time you worked together. Looking at the pen and thinking about the memory made you smile, which you covered with your hand as you wondered why the small object got such a reaction out of you.

Suddenly remembering where you were, you pushed thoughts of Chase and the pen and how he was starting to make you feel out of your mind. You had to focus.

You were sat on Chase’s bed, supposed to be rereading Romeo and Juliet until you got distracted by your thoughts. Chase was at his desk, skimming through a history textbook. You played with the edge of the page you were on, about to return to reading, when Chase looked over his shoulder at you.

“You know, I’m surprised you’re still reading that.” He said, leaning back in his chair, deciding to take a break from studying. “Big, old-timey words. Thought that’d be too strenuous for you to handle.”

That was another change you noticed. You still poked and teased at each other. But lately, when Chase would do it, your cheeks would grow hot from some kind of feeling that was entirely unlike the anger and annoyance you usually felt.

“Very funny.” You deadpanned, yet you couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit. “I’m surprised you even know the meaning of the word ‘strenuous.’ Considering your size, you’d think your brain would be just as tiny.”

Chase kicked at your leg, rolling his eyes as you laughed. 

“You’re hilarious.” He said, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Seriously, though, I don’t know how you’re not bored of that by now. Especially since you’ve read it before.”

“It’s considered a classic for a reason, Chase.” You said. “I mean, I obviously have problems with the story, like the age gap and the suicide without really checking if Juliet is dead. But you have to admit that some of the writing’s nice. Beautiful even.” You shifted into a more comfortable position. “I mean, listen to this. ‘O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.’” Before you could continue, Chase interrupted you.

“‘What shall I swear by?’” He recited, standing from his desk chair and moving to lay down on his side, a foot or two away from you. You looked at him with a questioning look. 

“Since when could you recite Shakespeare?”

“I dunno, just can.” He answered with a shrug. “Keep going.”

You looked at him curiously for a few more seconds before turning back to the book.

“‘Do not swear at all; or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I’ll believe thee.’”

“‘If my heart’s dear love-’”

“‘Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say ‘It lightens.’ Sweet, good night!’” You paused to catch your breath, and you felt Chase’s eyes on you. Either you were crazy, or he was slowly inching closer to you. He looked at you expectantly but patiently, and you took another deep breath before returning to the page. “‘This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest come to thy heart as that within my breast!’”

Chase was even closer to you now, using his hands to keep himself stable as he raised from his laying position. Without meaning to, you leaned forward, closing the already shortening distance between you.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?’” Chase’s voice was quiet, but the words rang in your ears. You must have imagined it, you must have, but you could’ve sworn that for a second, his eyes were on your lips instead of locking with yours.

“‘What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?’” You recited softly. But you started to have a feeling that this was becoming less of a recitation and more of something else. Some kind of confession, you secretly hoped, disguised as casual quoting of someone else’s words of romance.

“‘The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.”’

“‘I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: and yet I would it were to give again.’” As you spoke the words, you realized that they indeed rang with truth. 

Chase was now fully sitting up, and your breath hitched when you felt his hand snake around you to cup the back of your neck. You dropped the book in your lap, gaze fully fixated on his.

“‘Wouldst thou withdraw it?”’ Chase asked, using his other hand to hold your cheek, thumb sweeping over the bone. “‘For what purpose, love?’”

“I like when you call me that.” You whispered, too overwhelmed by his hands to continue reading the play.

“That’s not the line,” Chase responded, smiling before pulling your face to his and kissing you. 

It was soft at first, as if you were both scared the other would realize they didn’t want this. But when that passed, the tension from the past two weeks, honestly the past year, made you hungry for each other. It wasn’t long until you were straddling Chase’s lap, book and project long forgotten. Chase’s hands trailed down your body, squeezing your hips before pulling away just enough to speak.

“So…” He started, needing to catch his breath. “Am I the god of your idolatry?” 

You giggled, slapping his shoulder before wrapping your arms around them.

“I’m surprised you know how to pronounce ‘idolatry.’” Chase squeezed your hip once more at your teasing before kissing you again.

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

— TRANSCRIPT: YEAR 4 | NO DADDIES, JUST ISSUES

CHARACTERS:

Childe (Ajax): In his last year of university as an international business major. He was offered a full-ride scholarship as a varsity swim athlete. At first, he had no intentions of taking swimming seriously, but winning medals and experiencing the thrill of competitions became his high. He quickly became U of T’s swim captain, winning people left and right thanks to his extroverted nature.

Thoma: A hospitality management major, referred to as a mysterious, yet friendly guy. He’s always ready to help others but refuses to be helped. He’s the friend who drops random lore about his life story growing up. All they know is that he was born in Mondstadt, but grew up in Inazuma. They don’t even know that you, his younger sister, exist. It’s not a secret, he just never bothered telling them. No one asked after all.

Diluc: When his father passed, he was determined to graduate as a business major to inherit his father’s business. Now he’s in his senior year of university; the student council president; and the campus’ sought-after bachelor. He may seem refined to others but he can be a menace. He and Childe met in their 1st year of Uni on Valorant. Diluc happened to flame Childe during the match. Childe loved the competition and added the red-head. It took them 5 months of duo queuing to figure out they attended the same school.

Kaeya: A 4th-year aeronautics major. As a kid, he grew fascinated with planes. The 1st time he rode one was with his adopted father and Diluc. The flight attendants and pilot’s welcoming gazes signified a new beginning. From there, he vowed to be a pilot who brings smiles to travelers. In the meantime, he works part-time for an ice skating rink, helping with deliveries and training.

Kaveh: The beloved architecture major. Sleep is not in his vocabulary. Although, alcohol is. He is very passionate about his studies to the point that his friends have to remind him to relax once in a while. Although, there are still days when they can’t contact him – the best way is through his roommate. Since Kaveh is always busy, he doesn’t have time to earn extra money. Instead, he’s anticipating for an unpaid internship once he graduates.

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back.

masterlist | previous | next

TAGLIST (OPEN!): @thegalaxyisunfolding @stratusworld @tiramizuloz @miy-svz @trulyylee @batatinhafriita @scaradooche @yuminako @m1njizzie @mtndewbajablasted @fadedpinkpen @vavrin @kioffy

[butlerspade]

Who’s a character you believe is so unnecessarily demonized in the TWST fandom?

( @dailytwsttweets )

By the fandom? There really isn't much of a competition to this since all the characters are demonized in their own ways, but if I did have to pick, I do think all of the Octavinelle trio are unnecessarily demonized.

A lot of people give the octavinelle trio insanely... iffy headcanons. Most "fans" characterize the three to be some insane psychopathic murderous maniacs, while I simply believe they are three mischievous high school boys who have a thing for business (i.e. running the Mostro Lounge), since that's sorta, Octavinelle's thing, you know.

The reason why I chose the octotrio out of others is because it's the content I've been seeing the most. Despite all three of them being just 17, each of them have a HIGH amount of "yandere AU" or "murderer AU" fanarts and fanfics. For Azul, for example, a lot of the times people see him as some kinda demonic mafioso kinda guy, but we have to realize he's still a school student. he may be mischievous but he went through a lot. For the Leech twins, I wanna say that LORD THEY ARE SO DEMONIZED. I always see Floyd's mood swings get demonized, and even FETISHIZED at the same time?? Floyd fans are unreal. As for Jade fans, you all need to stop making him act like some creep, because he really isn't. Overall, the octotrio is definitely at my top rank of "most demonized" and probably in my rank of most sexualized too if we're at it 😓

─ tagging: no one

[sixty-silver-wishes]

Roasting you based on your favorite of these German Expressionist films

(this post is a joke; don't take it too seriously lol)

Metropolis: You've got spicy political opinions and daddy issues. You were doing great in life until you found out how corrupt capitalism is sometime in high school or college, and it's absolutely mind-boggling to you that nobody else is batting an eyelid at all the injustices of the world because they're too busy defending the concept of a 40-hour work week. You're constantly checking your privilege and everyone else's, too. Or you just want to bang a robot. That's probably it.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari: Okay, I could make a joke about you being emo, or you liking the most basic film on the list, but that's not really the issue here. Your Hot Topic fashion sense and shitty drugstore eyeliner are nowhere near as concerning as the fact that you have no idea who the hell you are without them. You constantly overthink everything and are great at solving everyone's problems but your own, and you're averaging like 4 hours of sleep on a good night. You can't get your intrusive thoughts to leave you alone and if you relate to literally any character in this film, you need to get help. It's okay; I promise your therapist doesn't secretly hate you.

M: You're a surprisingly sweet and empathetic person for someone whose favorite film on this list is about a child murderer. You care deeply about others and are very much in tune with yourself, but unfortunately, everything you say is so off-putting that most people don't get that vibe about you. If they actually gave you a chance, they'd find that you have a great personality, but they don't, so instead you're stuck at home stalking your ex's vacation photos on social media.

Dr. Mabuse the Gambler: You like the finer things in life. You're high-maintenance, your tastes are classy and expensive, and you actually know how wine tasting works. However, you're way too into conspiracy theories and pyramid schemes for your own good, and your cultured proclivities are deeply undercut by the fact that you probably got into Bitcoin when that was a thing. Your two career paths are either "businessperson" or "cult leader," and it's concerningly difficult to discern which one you're on.

Nosferatu: Your sense of humor relies entirely on recycling memes that are at least a decade old, and the fact that you communicate nearly entirely in pop culture references is your attempt at disguising the fact that you're really bad at socializing. You think you have lots of great ideas that make perfect sense, but most people don't know what the hell you're going on about. However, you've got one or two ride or die friends who love you for who you are, cringe and all. Keep being you, Nosferatu fan. Never change.

The Student of Prague: I'm not sure this one is actually anyone's favorite film, but if this was yours, you were into shipping the Onceler with himself when that was a thing. You're super competitive, but you have a tendency to overwork yourself and burn out quickly, so now you're living off of Top Ramen and protein bars. People love to tell you that you "have potential" and "just need to apply yourself," but what they don't get is that you're stressed 24/7 and won't give yourself a break because you're trying so hard to satisfy your own impossible standards. Please take a nap.

Der Golem: You're great with children, small animals, and potted plants, but that's because literally anyone else you have to deal with fucking pisses you off. The absolute audacity of everyone around you means you're never not two seconds away from throwing hands, but honestly? You're always right and you should say it. You're actually a really nice person, but people keep pushing you to your limit and you're sick of it. On an unrelated note, you probably work in customer service.

Different from the Others: If this is your favorite film and you're a member of the LGBT community, that's perfectly understandable. It was a monumental achievement in LGBT cinema in the early 20th century and, despite being somewhat dated by today's standards due to the time period it was created in, largely holds up as an educational, yet tragic, piece of cinema. That being said, if you're a straight/cis/allo person and this is your favorite film, what is going on with you. I want to study you in a lab. How did you find this film. Come to think of it, how did you even get into German Expressionist cinema to begin with. I just want to know

Der Januskopf: [REDACTED]

Genuine: You're a "Caligari" fan who doesn't want to seem basic like the rest of the "Caligari" fans, so somehow you ended up here. You don't actually like this film aside from the visuals. Nobody actually likes this film. You want so, so badly to like this film, so you lie to yourself, just like you do about everything else.

[lifesteal-headcanons]

Every fandom deserves a high school AU, so here’s mine for Lifesteal!

The PMC all do competitive fencing, and are simultaneously revered and feared by the rest of the school. Clown, Leo, and Minute would be the cool intimidating kids among the upperclassmen. Every few months, there’s a new rumor or two about a PMC member having gang/mafia affiliations. Minute would disapprove of them, but Clown would actively embrace them for fun.

Branzy and MrCube are in some sort of coding club, along with any other life stealer that has a vested interest in redstone and intricate machines. They are commonly lumped together as “nerds,” but everyone runs to them all the same when they have issues with their computers.

The Three Heart Trio are hanging on to school by a single thread. Literally. All of them have enough suspensions to warrant an expulsion the next time they get into trouble. But heck, no one even knows what they ever got suspended for. They sure as hell don’t look or act like delinquents, more like underclassmen too nosy for their own good, and mostly keep their heads down.

Duality duo are literally the definition of duality, even in school. Mapicc does boxing and at least three different competitive sports. Grades aren’t his priority even though he skims the A-B+ tier. He plans to get recruited by a college. Meanwhile Ro is built like a beanpole and reads Latin and studies history for fun. He’s the one responsible for taking notes for Mapicc when he’s absent for country-wide sports competitions.

Zam is that one person who is notorious for being in every single friend group. He knows literally everyone and everyone knows him, although he doesn’t stay in any clique for too long. When he leaves, dramatic breakups or fighting usually ensues (sometimes both!). People usually have lots to say about him or not much at all, depending on how well they know him.

Parrot is a student council member, either a secretary or a president. His parents really want him to get a well paying job, but he wants to become an aviator. He’s a teacher’s pet, but is actually well-liked by mostly everyone in school. He is quiet but not shy, and constantly has bags under his eyes — either from studying, his student council duties, or from being friends with Spoke.

Spoke is Parrot’s childhood best friend, and is unlike Parrot in nearly every single way. He used to be labeled “the problem child” in elementary school, and the only reason he hasn’t been expelled from high school is because he’s gotten much sneakier. Whatever idea comes to his mind, he will carry out, regardless of logical barriers such as rules and safety. Quite frequently, Parrot has to cover for him using his authority, something that has resulted in them fighting. The two often go skateboarding together (Spoke taught Parrot) at night.

Reddoons and Ashswag are in speech and debate, but they love debating more than speeches. Ashswag has high hopes of going to college and then starting a multimillion dollar business from his apartment. Reddoons laughs at him in public but supports him in private. The two are friends, even though most of their conversations result in or start from bickering. Once, the teacher had to drag both of them offstage when they surpassed the ten minute timer for a debate. Both of them like wearing suits and ties, looking like they just walked out of a presidential election.

— 🌀 anon

.

[pikatsum]

high tide (came and brought you in) - chapter one.

summary: you’d originally rescued the injured merman out of kindness, and perhaps a healthy undercurrent of fear of what others in your town might do to the creature. the last thing you ever expected after returning him to the sea, was for him to try to stay.

tags: afab reader, merfolk, mention of explicitly-inhumane fishing practices.

this fic is a part of the teahouse collab, on discord!

A hunting party had left port, yesterday.

It was made up of the usual kind of tourist, you gathered, overhearing the neighborhood gossip on the sandy, well-trodden path into town. It was made up of a bunch of trigger-happy business students, likely bored with another year of academia and looking for something visceral. Looking to harm in a way that was sanctioned— even celebrated, in some corners of your seaside town. Doubtlessly, they were after the biggest creatures they could catch: sharks, dolphins, or something even more dangerous. Most of those you passed seem to believe that they’d be headed to the outer reefs.

This year, the annual merfolk migration had come early. You had heard through the grapevine that some of the offshore boats had begun to radio in with the usual signs: faulty sonar, empty traps and a general sense of unease, the closer they got to the outer-lying reefs, where multitudes of traveling pods made their temporary homes. Anyone with sense usually knew to stay far away from merfolk-territory, no matter how temporary their stay.

But now that that the sudden departure of the town’s gaudiest fishermen had combined with this news, it was collectively generating more rumor than Baralou Island had handled in months. As the path transitioned to craggy, uneven sidewalk, you still heard people on their porches, gossiping about what could’ve drawn the group’s attention so suddenly. Perhaps it was one of the cartload of technological additions that they’d constantly been wheeling up onto the sleek convertible boat they’d rented. You’d already had to duck through their large group by the harbor yesterday, and through the small crowds that had gathered to see what the fuss was about.

One of their number had been particularly boastful, perched at the top of the gangplank. His cerulean hair almost blinding in the sun, you’d heard him claim that he possessed the skill to capture merfolk— “I could snag a whole pod, in a single net!” — Anywhere else, those statements would’ve warned a call to the coast guard, if not the police. On Baralou, however, it was met with scattered applause and a single wolf-whistle.

Anti-merfolk sentiment always reached a peak in the summertime. The reason always varied: a lesser catch of fish that year, an increase in hurricane warnings. Merfolk— intelligent, powerful and little-understood— made the perfect scapegoats. With the early arrival of their annual migration, it was the opinion of some locals that the large pods passing through the reefs of the island were choking out the tourism industry. Never mind the fact that it was barely the start of summer, and the migration never lasted longer than a month. Nothing got people riled up like the notion of losing out on their most important source of income.

As a former resident, you knew that Baralou took great, and often dubiously-legal pains to advertise itself as having the “safest beaches in the world.” Entire books recounted years worth of fishing competitions with consistently high numbers of so-called “incidental harm” to merfolk. When taking these years’ worth of torment and fear tactics into account, it was little wonder that no mer would dare cross the reefs near the island, these days.

As a teenager, you too had sworn you would never come back to the island again— though this was more to do with Baralou’s pitifully-tiny size outside of tourist season, and the maddening frustration of growing up amongst the same faces you’d seen since nursery school. Nearing the end of your college career has reignited that passion to stay away— but unfortunately, your budget wasn’t quite in agreement with those plans. A summer of housesitting for your aunt and uncle, as well as your waitstaff position at one of Baralou’s many dockside restaurants would ideally give you enough to leave for good, come the fall.

Although you could barely wait to repack your overflowing suitcases, your first weeks back home had reminded you that not everything here was abjectly awful. Your expression lightened once you’d ordered from your usual café, turning to find an outside table already occupied with your favorite resident.

Camie Utshushimi wasted no time in shattering your hopes for normalcy.

“I heard—“ she began in a low voice, as you seated yourself, “—that somebody on the south-side offered to guide the business yuppies to a huge mer pod.”

You exhaled your disapproval over a warm mug of tea.

“That’s gotta be a scam. Even if they wanted to go out there, those reefs are nationally-protected. The fines alone would keep anybody away.”

“Babes, you know as well as I do that won’t stop them.”

“Even if they make it—” you retorted, “—I highly doubt a mer from these parts would be so easily caught, especially by that group.”

Camie at least seemed to take that point into consideration, a brief smile playing at her lips. She took a slow sip of coffee, her warm brown eyes pensively scanning the water.

“If anything, they’ll snag a nesting sea turtle, or a manatee that got washed in by mistake. The poor thing.” still you frowned, considering, “I hope they come back with nothing. But with all that fancy gear…”

This seemed to shake Camie out of her reverie, turning from the sea with a dismissive click of her tongue.

“Nah, Inasa already gave me the deets— that’s all rented. Fat chance they know how to use all of it.”

“Are you sure?” your lower lip worried anxiously, under your teeth.

Despite her agreeable chirp, you knew by the actual look in her eyes that she couldn’t be fully certain. You both finished your drinks in uneasy silence.

Camie was always amongst the island’s earliest risers, which meshed well with you. Shame that she had a social calendar more tightly packed than a visiting royal— she was never available in the evenings, no matter how many nights you tried to invite her to join you at the beach bars. Regardless, she was your closest friend on the island, and if these short moments outside the cobblestone cafe were what you had with her each morning, it was something you were grateful for.

On your way home, you cut back through the fishing harbor— at least, until you were stopped by a growing crowd. You couldn’t make out what was going on amongst their fluctuating number, but with everyone talking and the piercing beep of a large convertible boat backing in along the docks, you could only assume the town’s ‘conquering heroes’ had finally returned. Disgusted, you gave up your gawking and diverted to walk along the craggy shoreline for the last half-mile, back towards your borrowed home.

Most beachgoers preferred the island’s largest offerings, located just outside the shopping district at the other end of the island. These days, you preferred this semi-deserted spit of sand, despite the high tide forcing you to walk through the shallows for most of the way home.

Your weak earbuds were cranked to the max, but still did little against the crash of the waves. Slowly, you picked your way through a bed of oyster shells— even if any accidental cuts would be soothed in an instant, once the saltwater raced over your feet, again. At last, you reached the end of the shell bed, picking up the pace as the wind pushed insistently at you, spraying sand into your face and forcing you to stop, until it calmed.

Your podcast faded to ringing static in your ears when you spotted the torn fishing net, lying ahead.

Its edges had gouged deep into the sand— and, as it was so close to the shoreline itself, the waves that followed had buried them under more silt, throughly entrapping it. It was doubtlessly lost from the harbor. Was that the source of the commotion you’d missed? But, more horrifying than its condition (so tangled up on itself that it resembled a massive bunch of seaweed) or location, far from the fishing harbor, was the fact that it was moving.

Fear coursed through your veins. You needed to call some kind of authority. There should be a phone number at the prior beach access for the wildlife conservatory, if you could just get back to it. You’d have to go back over the oyster bed, but if something was still alive in that monstrosity, there wasn’t much choice to make. You’d taken all of two steps back, preparing yourself for the pain, when an odd sound rose in the lull of the tide. You tore out your cheap earbuds and strained to listen.

The sound that followed defied explanation. You’d never heard anything close to it. The only comparative experience you could draw from was mourning. A harsh, desperate cry, from something that was quite literally on its last hope.

The next thing you knew, your hands were plunging into damp tangles of rope. You cursed as it slid from your hands, as you first tried to wrench it apart, and then upwards— but of course, its moorings were stuck fast. It vaguely occurred that you had absolutely no idea what you were attempting to unearth, but the thought was quickly forgotten. Whatever this was, you could hear breathing from within the mass— shaky, ragged, and quick. You didn’t have much time.

And so, you turned instead to the edges themselves. You plunged your hands into the wet sand and dug as fast as you could. Fortunately, the fasteners weren’t buried too deeply. It didn’t take long for you to pry one up, and then another, the raspy catch of breathing serving as an inefficient and rapidly-dwindling timer. Your fingers burned. Your arms ached. And yet, you continued to tear at the bindings, tugging at the base of the netting until you could finally start to pry up a corner.

You‘a heard of hysterical strength before, but you’d never truly acknowledged the sensation until the soaked, dripping netting was held high above your head. Very quickly, those considerations vanished entirely at the sight of the form underneath.

A pair of bright dichromatic eyes blinked at you through the gloom. The moment would be almost ethereal, if their owner wasn’t literally heaving for breath, both arms stuck akimbo in the holes of the netting. You gave voice to the only thought that actually made sense in this situation.

“…What the hell…?”

Your arms burned from the sopping weight of the net. Water and damp pieces of seaweed were falling on the both of you. With a grunt of effort, you finally stepped forward and chucked the excess portion backwards, before you immediately knelt to loosen the remaining bindings.

The man— not human, not fully, your brain warned— almost immediately began to thrash, displacing a spray of water between you as the tide came in. You bit back a yelp, but repressed the urge to flinch, caught up by the look on his face.

Whatever he was or wasn’t, you knew he was afraid.

You couldn’t be sure if he would understand, as you raised your hands, palms out. Was there really such a thing as a universal sight of surrender? Although your next movement forward earned a flash of sharp teeth, he didn’t move against you. With that, your hands returned to the net, and you set to work untangling it from his body.

You stared down at your hands as you worked, pulse thrumming in your ears. Outside of them, you couldn’t feel anything, outside the numbing sting of adrenaline. Because of that, your motor control was tenuous at best— all you could do was continue working at the net. Heart in your mouth, you snuck another glance up, to confirm your suspicions. Sharp teeth. Bright eyes. Fins, twitching and alert, where ears would be.

If anyone else happened upon your rescue of a beached merman, you would be in very serious trouble.

You re-doubled your efforts, trying to get him loose, wishing that you’d somehow had the foresight to grab something sharp—

—oh, wait.

“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow—!”

One painstaking pick-over of the oyster graveyard later and you had yourself a prime specimen. You’d exchanged a fair bit of blood to the sand, but that was neither here nor there. You half-ran, half-limped back to the fallen net, makeshift tool held high and set to work, ignoring the latest attempt to swipe at you. This particular shell had sliced open the ball of your foot, so, soon enough, it had started a tear into the tangled net.

The merman didn’t seem to appreciate your ingenuity. You’d barely gotten his right arm free before he was using it to grab onto yours, tugging you forwards as his other, bound arm tried to gesture to his throat.

“Wait—!” you panicked at the strength of his grip, “I’m getting your other arm out, just breathe—!”

A feeling like ice water ran down your spine.

“….Can’t…”

“You ca—?” you’d barely gotten through the repetition before you saw the small slits in his throat, gaping and closing frantically.

You had no idea how long the mer had been breathing above-water, but those rattling wheezes sounded like he was reaching his limit.

“Oh, shit— hold on!”

You cut through the last binding of his left arm and began to feverishly hack away at the snarled mass behind him. It wasn’t long before the shimmer of scales became apparent through the remaining bindings. You couldn’t think much about the full magnitude of what all you had uncovered— how could he speak? — because the merman in question could barely breathe at all. The small gasps of air he managed to draw seemed more like hiccups.

With no time to spare, you dragged whatever remained of the net backwards, wincing as a massive number of koi-like scales were caught and sloughed off in your haste. Supposedly the merman would sooner be alive than care about the finer details of his appearance.

The net had barely dropped before his powerful tail slammed down into the surface of the wet sand— sending fragments of it splashing back over you. You took a few steps back as the merman— tail uselessly trying to propel him forwards— was forced to use an approximation of an army-crawl to get towards the shallows.

Without the snarled ropes in the way, you only saw the injuries left behind. A multitude of bruising and deep scratches marred his back, some still sluggishly-bleeding. There was a long gouge of scales missing on his left flank, revealing the smooth muscle of his tail which seemed to share the unique dichromatic coloring of the rest of him. A few pairs of dorsal fins twitched valiantly as he tried to propel himself forwards.

Finally, the merman made it to the sea. It was easier going from there, especially after he’d managed to fully submerge his head and neck underwater. He stayed for a long moment, doubtlessly drinking in the relief of oxygen that he could fully process. But no mer would ever want to stay this close to Baralou’s shore. As he sank into the shallows, you expected him to tear off, instantly.

Instead, he broke the surface again, split hair tumbling over his broad shoulders, before another of those indecipherable sounds carried itself over the shush of the incoming tide, back to you. This one sounded like a challenge. He’d fought his way through whatever hell had gotten him trapped in that netting, suffered through a slow asphyxiation and crawled himself back to the sea. He’d very nearly been killed. But now, he seemed to dare the land and anyone living there to try it, again.

Caught in the early-morning rays, he was the most breathtaking creature you had ever seen.

In spite of the sentiments, the posted warnings, and the merman’s borderline war-cry, you made your way back down the sand and into the shallows. The merman had vanished far into the deeper waters by then. You doubted he’d return for such a silly reason. And yet….

A few small tide-pools were receding beneath the tangles of net you’d torn away. You knelt and began to dig through their broken coils, to extract as many of the curved, glimmering scales as you could. They were ivory, with splashes of wine red, each one with its own unique pattern. Perhaps, like snakeskin, a mer’s scales were destined to be shed. Still, you felt like they had to serve some purpose.

Once you’d gathered up as many as you could carry, you made your way down the shore, following the shallow trench that his tail had left. You went along it, into the sea, out until it lapped up over your kneecaps, where the merman had first shoved his face underwater, and then you went a bit further, just for good measure. It would be nothing but bad news to have these wash back up, after all.

There, you lowered your hands, and let the scales slip through, to the ocean floor. Even if the merman didn’t come back, perhaps the currents would be kind enough to return at least some of them back where they belonged. With one final glance outwards, you took your leave, walking determinedly towards the shore, even as the ocean’s receding current pulled enticingly, trying to lure you to follow, into its depths.

[razertail18]

Miguel O'hara and daughter! Reader

I dunno why, but I'm an absolute sucker for Miguel O'hara and daughter!reader(its platonic, I can't stand incest)

My head just thinks of all the possible angst it has. One of these days, I'll finally be able to find the time to write other fics and this one in a proper way and just a rough idea!

~~✨💗🎀💗✨~~

You always love your papa, Miguel O'hara, but it's painfully obvious how he has been lacking recently. Well... As recently as the past few years.

Ever since the start of high school, Miguel has been absent in some events of your life.

It started when he would be late from picking you up from school, you would stay up late just to wait for him to come home, forgetting your traditional daddy-daughter sunday bonding time.

You didn't mind it at first until he stopped taking you out to celebrate your achievements, more specifically, every time you won a medal or got first place into any academic competition(specifically math and science).

Yup... You were a genius like your papa but he didn't send you to any gifted schools. He thought you deserved a normal childhood.

It was back in grade 9 where you won in an international math competition and won a gold medal... Like... Shock! Biggest achievement yet.

You already called Miguel about it and you just straight lied to him that all you got was a participation award. You were planning on surprising him, you take pride in the fact that you are just like your papa.

You went home with a medal in your hand and a bunch of empanadas on your other.

You wait.

And wait..

Oh, look at that it's 12:00 am. You could always skip school the next day...or technically today.

4 am and no calls... Is he... Okay?

And then Lyla pops up

"Oh, Lyla? Did papa have another all nighter at Alchemax?"

"Look, kid... I'll be honest with you... Miguel... He won't come back for a while."

"What?! Why? But... He said that he'll be here, besides, we always celebrate after I-"

"Y/N. I'm sorry, really, I am. And I'm sure your father does too."

You don't know why but you swore the way she gritted her teeth. Is that possible for holographic AI?

"Anyway, congrats, kid. I know it's just a participation award but, heck, you were against international kids. The best of the best. I mean, competing against hundreds of students in more than 20 countries. That's wild-"

"It's actually gold.

"What?"

"Won first place... I... I just wanna surprise, papa... But, um, thanks anyway..."

After that, it just got worse month after month, year after year. You are used to being alone now. Sometimes Tio Gabriel is there to take care of you. Lyla helps you to keep yourself sane.

While Miguel might still live at your house, it doesn't feel like it.

"I'm busy right now, hija."

"I'm sorry, biscotcho... Maybe some other time."

"Y/N, please! I am tired, I just need some peace at the moment."

Excuse after excuse. That's all you get.

There are the occasional times he did spend time with you that you both enjoy

But it got butchered when you were 15.

He was just gone. For months.

Tio Gabriel had to move in with you.

"Mig- Your papa is just busy. He's, um-"

"I get it... He's busy. What's new?"

Gabriel could see just how you were struggling to keep it together. He knows how close you and Miguel used to be.

Gabriel was debating on whether he should tell you that it was because Miguel had an accident that made him half-spider, half-human.

That Miguel became Spider-Man, a figure you slowly idolized and internally wished he'd be your father instead(Ironic, I know), that's why he's late.

That Miguel is out there saving the multi verse.

That Miguel does love you.

Granted, Gabriel didn't know that Miguel ditched you and him to live happily in another universe where he doesn't bear the burden of being Spider-Man.

After months, Miguel came back. You didn't recognize him at first.

His hair is unkept, dark circles under his eyes, more agitated, he's depressed. It's Miguel alright but a shell of your father.

It was one night where you found out the truth when a strange portal appeared and a few...Spider-Man or Spider-Men? Women? Cat? Spider-People.

Along with them is the Spider-Man you were familiar with. There's that skull shaped spider in his costume.

You were trying to get a closer look and caught them on camera. You didn't expect them that your Spider-Man would reveal his face

"P-Papa?"

After that you started digging deeper, snooping around Miguel's things and researching about Spider-Man in general.

You were fangirling at first until you realize that's the whole reason why he had always been so absent

You were furious. You don't know whether to shout, cry, punch, wail, or anything to let your bottled up emotions out

You hated him.

He left you to save other people. He abandoned you to be a superhero. And he didn't tell you! He lied to you.

Did Lyla knew? Of course she does. And tio Gabriel, he might as well have.

Would he really abandon his child to just play the hero...

You wanna tell him.

You were already walking down Miguel's office until you heard him talk about some anomalies and how these villains keep taking up his time.

"I shocking swear, Miguel, you get to see these villains more than you get to see your own daughter!"

"Several universes depends on it! You think I have enjoyed doing this for the past several years, Gab?!"

So the villains get more attention than you, huh?

Maybe it's time to have that so-called 'Bad girl era' that almost every teen goes through. But how...

You huffed as you landed on your bed filled with Spider-Man comics from the Golden Hero era as part of your research. And then you saw a particular villain in one of the pages.

"I'm a genius, right?... How hard could it be to pull off Doc Oct's metal arms... Besides... Nueva York still hasn't had a version of him. It's about time for one."

You immediately got to work. You had experience when it comes to robotics and tech, thanks to Miguel since he introduced you to it.

Miguel and Gabriel thought of nothing about it when you requested several metal parts and wires. It was not uncommon for you to mess around making robots.

The other materials that will gather suspicion, you have to buy it yourself or steal it.

You did feel bad for stealing but you love that adrenaline rush in your blood as you almost got caught and ran away scot free.

You made some changes to the original idea of Doc Oct's metal limbs. You read something about an inhibitor chip and there's no way you are implanting a chip in your body.

So you have to work your way around it. There's also something about an A.I., a huge no for you since you learned the hard way that you are still beyond mastering it.

So you just went with the voice command and controlling it manually.

At first you only have two limbs and the other pair was only used after you got the handle of it.

"Soooo... What crime should I do first... I don't exactly wanna hurt people. I just wanna fight pap- I mean, Spider-Man but how..."

You walk through the city carrying that heavy ass backpack containing the metal arms while looking where to cause crime.

Then you saw how a bunch of the policemen were abusing their power...again. And you look back at the police that was parked just near you.

"Hello there..."

It took Miguel by surprise when he saw a clip sent by Lyla about some weird Doc Oct wannabe making a ruckus in Nueva York about...destroying police cars and the police department? Odd.

Nonetheless, Miguel is pissed and was forced to fight the new villain any way whom he had found to be annoying.

"What in the shock are you achieving in destroying cars, Doc Oct?"

"Ummm, don't you think Doc Quad fits better... I only have, like, 4 metal limbs. But it makes me sound like a body builder.

It was strange how much you enjoyed causing mayhem or was it because Miguel's focus is on you. Regardless, your 'villainy' continued on for months.

You never hurt innocent people. More like an inconvenience to everyone in the city and just being a stupid teen who thinks there being bad but cool.

Of course, Miguel hated you. You were there being a distraction to his responsibility of keeping the multi verse in tact.

Strangely enough if there were any anomalies in Nueva York, you were the one to fight them off and the Spider-People sometimes just needed to pick them up to send them back home.

And as time goes on, you actually manage to strike a peaceful conversation with Miguel and some of the other Spider-People like Peter B. And Gwen(if they were around Nueva York) if you weren't feeling like being a menace.

"I'm just saying, Miguel. Your Doc Oct could be a great member in HQ. Just think about it." Gwen is trying to convince Miguel, she sort of made a weird friendship with you.

"She's practically harmless." Peter added.

"Uhuh. I think flooding the streets of Nueva York, releasing several animals free in pounds, painting government halls in rainbows, cleaning the river while tossing the thrash back in front of company's headquarters, and destroying police property is pretty harmless.

"Sounds more like an angst teen to me. At least, she never tried killing you." Peter joked.

He did give it some thought. Maybe you are a teen behind that black mask and shades you always wear but he couldn't really know.

Except for one particular event.

It was your sixteenth birthday. Miguel promised to make it special for you since you never got the quinceañera he promised you before.

You didn't really care you just wanted the whole day with him.

You didn't go to school that day only spending the day with Miguel.

This was it. Your prayers have finally been answered and then- oops...

Miguel left you in a diner while taking lunch to 'go buy something' and he didn't return.

Everything is turning out so well. A bed in breakfast, giving you tons of hugs and kisses from your papa, letting you pick out a new dress, and watching that new monster movie you've been waiting for about some overgrown lizard.

You knew he had been called to his 'job'. That is more important than you. Than his own daughter.

You left the dinner as you ran back to your home. You don't wanna cry. Not this time. Your heart is burning with all the rage and pain of his neglect over the years.

When Gabriel saw your tear-stained face, he already knew what happened.

He was ready to hear you breaking down in your room but he didn't expect to see your bedroom walls breaking down with tentacle claws visible through the smoke and rubble.

"Y-Y/N?" Gabriel didn't wanna believe it. But he saw you put on that mask and the shades that Doc Oct always wears.

You refused to listen to anybody as you thrashed everything that comes in your way. And you went directly to the electricity company and turned the lights illuminating the city night off.

You thrashed the broadcast and signal of the city (a/n: how do you even describe that)

No electricity, no signals, everything is off. You hoped that the HQ Miguel is in is affected as well.

You got bored as you ruined the streets, letting your anger out in the destruction you havoc.

Now...where was that HQ located? You swore you saw it in your father's plans.

Okay. Plan B.

Time to pay a visit to your papa's office.

~~✨💗🎀💗✨~~

A/N: might continue it as an actual proper fic but I really wanna write the reader as a villain. I know it's such a mess but way too sleep deprived but I might continue it later