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renaerys · 3 years

Note

Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #bersoomer #ppg berserk #ppg boomer #september fic prompts #so this turned into a 3k one shot because i love these characters and i couldn't help myself #tfw considering a part 2

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anikkis-fantasirealities · 3 years

Text

“The Banquet Rooms of the Grandeur Campus”

③ Human Interest Story ┊ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰᵒ ʸᵉᵃʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᶦᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵒᵘᵗʰ···ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵍᵉⁿᵘᶦˢᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿˢ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵍᵒᵒᵈʷᶦˡˡ·

꒰⁺˚₊·₍₍loading...₎₎ ✎...۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪ -ˏˋ 📨 ˊˎ-

༘✶ ㊉㈦〘 ⅯⅯ 〙⋆｡˚𓆟 ༉ ║ Posted : ０６/１５/２１° ｡༄ ‧₊˚ ๑ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ •ଓ.° ｡❍ ㈩㊇

- - ——— ꒰ An article by Nicole “Nikki” Elaine S. Chua ꒱

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ࿐ྂ—͙❬₊° ᶦ ᵃᵐ ᵃ ᵇˡᵒᵍᵍᵉʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ·“= ‹⸙͎

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┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩

┊ ┊ ┊ ✫

┊ ┊ ︎✧

┊ ┊ ✯

┊ . ˚ ˚✩

On a scorching afternoon where the shouting of children, chasing each other after classes have concluded, and the chattering adults have started to lock up the messy rooms, there was not one place that was quiet. I, on the other hand, had a quest to fulfill under a time limit! The red ballpen flung onto my chair desk when white sheets of paper were clenced by my thin palms. I ran outside past our broken doorstep to our class, over the pastures, and on top of stone-edged floors. Time is ticking... 4, 3, 2, and those squeaky black dull shoes made it! In opening the slim door to the right side of the room, they were like glorifying gates that screeched wide open—awaiting for my arrival. Well, it wasn’t that dramatic, but I was perspired out of sprinting under the gleaming sun. My short legs wobbling for a tiny second. The beads dripping on my worried face were shaken when I entered the room at around the size of a studio-type residence.

It was normal for me to be an errand girl who assists her class and obey her teachers with respect, no matter what school my identification card is designated to. I grew up with that kind of personality: helpful, caring, kind, diligent, and patient. Hence, these exhausted shoes have travelled to many places across gymnasiums, libraries, storage rooms, and laboratories. Though, sometimes, my mind still can’t get used to such a huge room, like that of the faculty rooms. I still become staggered over the hectic aura of the space, where long tables sat in rows, and people in pink & blue uniforms kindling the noise from the outside within. I would look around to see piles of examination papers, rolls of cartolina squeezed into a box, and scattered gadgets for teaching being charged to full energy. This is an article featuring the 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝙀𝙧𝙖 𝙐𝙣𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙮: 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡.

Throughout the years I’ve walked on those narrow corridors, and climbed up stairs to different floors of the vintage buildings, I also meet ways with many generations. One generation was younger than me—that of clumsy children innocently playing in the fields endlessly. The other was of my age, those who exist with me, as they attempt to finish their studies without tilting their heads to nudges of distraction. Then, there was this generation who were much similar to us—like students in a classroom laughing and sharing stories with each other. They had the knowledge of the world in their hands. In their arms, they carry heavier packages to unbox. Though, unlike the previous generations I meet who simply stepped up and down the stairs, the prudent grown-up smiled back to me, walking slowly pass my agitated shoulder.

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ㅤㅤ ❝ That room that I remember the most, ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ was under construction before the pandemic began. ❞

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

I had the desire to help them lift their troubles by standing by their side, but they refuse because it is the role they signed up for, and my position had no power to be elevated to their level. Though, through these words, I know I would be able to do something to display their everyday lives behind teaching the New Era youth, giving the best advice, and serving the school with unconditional love. I was given the chance to be closer to the people who inspired me to present the compassionate self with the direction, ambition, and deduction to offer my best contribution to the world I belong to.

At the back of those generalized comforting grins and caring embraces, come their different fairytales that make the generation a community of teachers—young or old, millennial or Gen X, whatever gender and status they may have. They were a social generation, with hundred of stories to unfold and share to the youth. That was one thing I admired about them the most.

Well, I have encountered many teachers in my life since entering school, but the memory that always stick to my mind is my experiences with the teachers of New Era University: Integrated School. For some, they would cover their face when they recognize their teachers riding on a public vehicle rushing to its detination. Others simply ignore their respected educators when they spot them being at school even if the sun has already tucked in for the day.

However, I was one of those students who waves and greets them with my two-front teeth sticking out in happiness—trekking my way to school, riding shiny metallic jeepneys, and walking through scrapped walls that used to be fully painted. The inspiration flows out when I’m with them—a witness of their trials and ever-changing biographies in their very own home, the school, itself. Yes, the school becomes their shelter, figuratively, because that is how passionate they are in the path they’ve chosen to wander upon.

Then, there’s this vague image that I always remember—a banquet room where teachers eat together side-by-side during lunch breaks. The clanging of plates and utensils compliments the happy vibe of the room. The meals packed in transparent plastic bags from the canteen look fancy because of the optimistic mood all throughout the proximity in between me and the busy adults. Oh, and how could I not forget to mention the signature pancakes by New Era University: Integrated School that some teachers indulge in the most?

The giggles never end when I hear their jokes from afar, while I am walking through their room to return the checked papers I’ve finished to my Filipino teacher in Grade 10. Everyone was like workers in a castle of royalty—busy and preoccupied with their own duties, yet working towards one united purpose, that together creates a vibrant mix of emotions in the great hall. The harmonized melody it produces once the sweat and tears has finally been paid off, truly, the lunch breaks are what makes the banquet more lively. It’s a feast to behold!

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ㅤㅤ❝ Whenever I catch my name, I return it, ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤwith my good-natured, ‘Hi po, Sir and Ma’am!’ ❞

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On one side were the lockers, where old and new student’s projects filled the barren storage with interesting information. There are multiple brown wooden tables overlapped with colorful designs where groups of teachers sit together. The masters of Science sat at the bench to the wall at the right, while the experts in English stay behind a counter adjacent to the door on the right. People who speak of Filipino, Math, Computer, and MAPEH had benches next to each other in the middle of the bustling hall that was their faculty room. They are not divided, literally, for their workplaces are not distanced from one another. Each part of the table has a customized area per teacher, whose pictures of blood-related family and schedules are inserted under transparent cover—giving them motivation to carry on their sworn responsibility. However, just like BFFs who stick together, some teachers transfer to other tables to enjoy the rest of the day with their close co-faculty members.

They would talk about their personal lives, their interests, and at times, the students & problems they encounter in classes. Some gave glee, but of course, there were also those that gave headaches. That’s why whenever I am presented with a new subject teacher per grade level, I can understand if the they know me well from the narrations of the teachers who’ve handled me. They are aware of my struggles, efforts, and kindness as a pupil of New Era. They are familiarized with this face, the expression, and its body language.

Though, I am still proud that they recognize my batchmates dedication, too. Each teacher imparted values to all their children equally. There was no favoritism, and everyone gets a chance to participate. When we make mistakes, we are still accepted and loved. All this, even though they are humans who are aroused by intense feelings? No matter how impressive, or lowly we are, it is that chance to be better that we are most thankful about in this palace of high education.

All the pictures you’ve seen so far contain significant beings in my life as a student-soon-to-be-adult. That’s the magic of being someone not so known in society or history, but will remain a treasured person in your life—a special connection only you and that person understands, and not everyone else does. Even though I tend to stutter and zip my mouth when I am often in the loud banquet when I do not want to disturb the delightful get-alongs by our educators, eventually I am noticed and asked, “What are you doing here, Nicole Chua?” It’s the admiration that regardless if I was hidden or completely revealing of myself, they help me to speak out and be more confident with the adults. That is something that I also want to influence my classmates with, because these teachers outside lessons and activities are not so intimidating & looming at all!

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ㅤㅤ ㅤ❝ I can recall the cooked dishes and the grades for judging, and I cherish them knowing you cannot taste them again. ❞

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

They are friendly, approachable, and absolutely considerate of the many kids they manage from Mondays to Fridays. Off campus is a different story that I can’t personally share for the privacy of their lives, though I would say it’s rough. It’s rough to come back home—to take care of your very own children while finishing school records, bringing along the stress from work into their real dwelling. They are not just mothers and fathers of the campus that caters hundreds of beautiful princes and princesses. They are also parents worried of their own children’s future.

The sicknesses, the loans, the quarrels, and the trickling hourglass—all this is what they must face in the cold, dry evenings. They are vulnerable to all these things that makes them a part of reality, and not just some fantasy with no flaws. It didn’t matter if they were in the coordinator’s office, the cookery laboratory, the office in the second floor, or that special place on the fourth floor. I was there to hear their encounters with their rude children, or the sweet marriage they had. If I clean harder, dart quicker, and volunteer even more, I can appreciate them who were not supernatural beings veiled in fiction. They sacrifice for that hope, that they will teach the next generations how to educate those after them, and those before them. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺.

One time, I was holding onto the dream of being a part of the school’s newspaper—it was my “𝗛𝗨𝗗𝗬𝗔𝗧” to fulfill the vision, reflected by that tender link I had with that story. The tension was still on me when I came to the opening. I had no clue why I felt that way, even if I’ve entered too many banquet halls at that point. Though, I was determined to open that door and introduce myself with the passion I had. She was someone I did not know so much back then, but now, I’m writing this article because of her instruction. Her proficient Filipino words, and the lectures she offered to us. There was the excitement, the uplifting compliments, and the will to keep on writing. This may be the last time that we will be coupled for education, but I’m hoping to see our names as staff on the front page. Am I too much, or was that a mysterious ending?

Teachers in general only want the best for their learners, for influencing their lives is the greatest fulfillment. They can be strict or relatable, but together, they spend the rest of the day in the banquet room, merrily toasting for a job well done. In this monumental learning institution, many important people shall rise and do their part in society, away from the fairytales and fictional playtime. Perhaps, next time, if you can also observe your own school’s faculty room, you can hear their stories—the sounds of a feast, and assist them in preparing for the afternoon festivities.

I hope you were able to see the beautiful reality of the teachers of New Era University: Integrated School with my own eyes. Do greet them hello, or help them in your tiny acts the next time you see them, and it will definitely brighten their day. Thank you for reading their ordinary tales! Come back again in another blog where my fantasies become realities! A Nikki reminder: let’s help one another to rise up to success, instead of degrading one another to failure!

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ❝ It’s the ultimate desire, and yet I felt so anxious, ㅤㅤ ㅤbut now we’re so close, yet so far between screens. ❞

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

· * ✫ * ⊹ * ˚ . . 　　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · . * · . · · + . ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ· ** ˚ . . + 　　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · . *

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ. . + 　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · .˚ ⊹ · * ✧ ⋆ · * . · . · · .. . .

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ· + ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ· * ✫ * ⊹ * ˚

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ · ** ˚ . . + ㅤㅤ　· ⋆ * . * . . · . · .˚ ⊹ · * ✧

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ⋆ · * . · ㅤㅤ . · · .. . . · + .

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ. · + . *

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⋆ * . * . .

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ . · ·

ㅤㅤ﹙dedication. ﹚ ୨˚୧ ˚ ༘♡.↳ ₊˚‧

This blog is dedicated to “I am a Teacher,” for her patience, remarks, rainbow scarfs, adorable dogs, and wonderful words given to me. You are My Most Precious Treasure in this writing journey, from blandness to vividness.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹋﹋﹌﹌﹌「 🧁 」﹌﹌﹌﹋﹋

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ┊彡 Credits

➥ Cover Edit

➫ Ma’am JB

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➥ First Blog Divider

➫ Sir Leo

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➥ Second Blog Divider

➫ Ma'am Eva

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

➥ Third Blog Divider

➫ Sir Prince

➥ Fourth Blog Divider

➫ Sir Prince

➥ Fifth Blog Divider

➫ Teacher Med

➥ Source of Information

➫ The author’s encounters

➫ Briefly shared stories by her teachers

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#NEU-IS PH #Creative Non-fiction #Feature Article #Blogging #Human Interest Story #aNikKis Fantasirealities #Teachers #Faculty Room

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stayforya · 6 years

Text

SUE ME

member: bang chan

genre: break up/make up au! fluff; angst

words: 3.9k

summary: bad experiences teach you how to live and who to trust. after everything, he have been hoping he could change the past. but wasn’t he the one who said that there’s no second chance?

a/n: based on sabrina carpenter’s song “sue me”. feel free to listen to it while reading :)

you weren’t the kind of girl who dated a lot

not because there is something wrong with being like that, but you just couldn’t trust boys too much

your first ever boyfriend was a douchebag and after the worst dating experience with him, you decided not to open your heart easily

of course it leaded you to a place where no boys approached, since you weren’t open to anything else other than friendship

being in college now was a whole new experience

at least there was a huge upgrade when it comes to people (boys, specifically)

beginnings are always complicated but you met a nice girl who had the same classes as you, so you didn’t feel alone at all

as time passed by, the new environment wasn’t so strange anymore

once you even met a cute guy while studying close to the football field, he was all athletic, by the way

you were just sitting by yourself when some kind of shadow came into your way and you only noticed the ball after it hit your juice bottle

“I’m so sorry”, he came running

“no, that’s okay, tho”, you were trying to collect the mess and get out of the ground so the spilled juice wouldn’t wet anything else

“are you sure? can I get you a new drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you”, you finally lifted up your head after collecting your stuff

he had a cap on, and even though his body language showed a manly carefree person, his eyes were the most caring ones you saw in a while

“we’ll make sure the ball won’t come out again”, he smiled and looked at the boys who were quite far, on the field, waiting for him to comeback

“thanks”, you gave out a friendly smile

“I’m changbin, by the way”, he offered his right hand

“I’m y/n”, you hold his hand

“come on, bro!”, one of his friends shouted from afar

he just gave you a smile and came back to the field

not easily affected, you smiled to yourself

the next day started so messed up

you had this class pretty early and your alarm clock didn’t ring

you just brought an apple, didn’t even brush your hair properly and probably forgot something but would only notice it later

even though the professor didn’t say anything when you opened the door ten minutes late, he would definitely remember your face

the friend you sat with everyday already had someone by her side since you were late

you found an empty place and were by yourself when someone just sat so smoothly you didn’t notice

“oh”, the sound came out automatically when you saw him

“morning”, he said

his hair was as messy as yours, but his was cute, fluffy and it smelled good

small and sleepy eyes

“if there’s anyone without a pair, please find yours. it will be needed for this class”, said the professor

the boy by your side looked around and then looked at you again “did you bring the book?”

your mind was still loading everything, and then you remembered

“oh, no… I forgot it”

he opened his backpack and started looking into it

“here it is!”

“congrats on saving the day”, you joked

he giggled and his dimple showed up

oh. my. God.

“I just bring everything everyday”

“seriously?”

“kind of”, he giggled again while opening the book

his small eyes became smaller when he smiled

his dimples became deeper

his side profile was like a work of art, for real

chan opened the book and placed it on the table between him and you so both could see it

but he came closer, so he could read it better

he had a strong smell that didn’t come from his hair

it was his perfume, maybe

how could someone smell like that at 8am?

you were reading to yourself

chan read it out, in some kind of asmr

you couldn’t focus on the part you were reading because of his voice reading the other part

so you just gave up and followed his reading

you wish you could pay more attention to him

but the class was really important

when it ended, your friend called you

and when you came back to say bye to chan, he left already

but on top of the table there were keys you assumed as his

during that week you didn’t see him anymore

you both probably didn’t have any other class together

after lunch with your friend, you decided to read a book in the exact place you read before

close to the football field, where you met changbin

he was there again, playing with the team

but what you truly didn’t expect was to see chan there

“what?”, you heard yourself talking out loud

you pretended to read for a whole hour until the game ended

changbin greeted you from afar and you waved too

chan was the last one to leave the field so you just decided to go there

no idea where the courage came from

“hey”

“oh, hey”, he smiled back

that smile again

“I’ve been looking for you”

he looked surprised

you didn’t mean in that… way…

“you left your keys on the table that day”

you took off the keys from your pocket and handed him

“really? I’ve been looking for them the whole week”

he took it gently from your hand

“I couldn’t find you anywhere, so…”

“thank you, …?”, he was asking for your name indirectly

“y/n”

“thank you, y/n. I’m chan”

“nice to meet you?”, it sounded strange since you already met before

you both laughed

“yeah, nice to meet you too”

“well, I’m going now”

“and if you need to meet me…”

what was he trying to say?

“…I mean, if I forget something again. I’m here almost every day”

“sure! now I know”

was it weird to say that?

anyways, moving on

you grabbed your bag and walked away to go home

you and chan started to meet again

and again

at the classes

at the football field

then at the library

at the street

and at that café close by

that was actually your first official date

but it didn’t feel like a date at all, cause you both were already used to each other

chan was playful

he was so nice to be around

warm

his laugh, his voice, his thoughts

how could you take so long to admit you were in love?

he held your hand taking you back home

he gave you bear hugs

sweet kisses

and he played with your fingers when you both were sitting there watching a movie or a stupid and funny reality show

if there is something as perfect boyfriend, chan would be the definition of it

once he made a playlist

named “to my babygirl”

and sent it to you

he added all the songs that made him think of you

unplanned dates because whenever you both were busy, any free time would be your time

“where are you now?”

“just finished my TA job”

“I’ll pick you up”

you went to almost all of their football games

cheering for him, running to him when they won

he gave you one of his team shirts so you would use it when watching the games

also, you became friends with the football team, since you already knew changbin too

and your friends started to hang out with them at the same time

however, you didn’t expect everything to change

you had a full day at university so you just couldn’t meet chan at all

you just wanted to go home and lie in bed immediately

when you were getting out of library, your phone rang

it was changbin

he rarely called you, you were the type of friends who exchanged texts not calls

“hey, what’s up?”

“are you still at campus?”, his voice was strange

“yeah”

“can you come here, to the locker room? I’m not feeling well…”

“what? what are you feeling?”

“I don’t know, I’m kinda dizzy”

“wait, I’m coming. there isn’t no one with you?”

“no, they all went home already… oh, shit”

“what???”, you started to run since you were pretty far from the locker room

“I slipped, but I’m okay”

“changbin! be careful, you stupid boy”

you were pretty worried

just a little bit more of running and you came into the locker room

there weren’t many lights around and not many people also

you opened the big transparent door abruptly

when you got into the man’s locker room, he was sitting on the bench

head down, hands holding it

changbin was so pale you got surprised

“oh my God”, you got on your knees to see his face

“I’m okay”

he wasn’t feeling well at all, it couldn’t be possible

he looked like he was about to faint so you just started to help him the way you could

you learned on first aid classes

his face started to come back to normal

“how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling better, but… I don’t know… weak”

“how did it happen?”

he sighed

“I think I didn’t eat enough for the amount of time I spent training”

“here”, you took off sandwiches from your bag

the ones you always brought with you

you didn’t even notice he was shirtless because, come on, you were friends

changbin is handsome but your friendship was always real

so you felt comfortable with each other

plus the football boys were all athletic so most of them took off their shirts all the time while training, for example

while you talked, changbin ate, and then he was feeling way better

for real this time

“thank you for coming”, he said

you two were turning out the lights since there wasn’t anyone else there

while you closed the big transparent door, changbin put his shirt on

“I’ll take you home today”

“do you drive?”, he asked

“of course, dude. give me the keys”, you opened your hand with a sassy face

“and how will you go home? it’s my car afterall”, he laughed

“taxi?”

he stopped with arms crossed

“come on, you won’t die, I promise I drive better than you”

“whaaaat”

you both got into changbin’s car

his car was a range rover? you’re just not so good in car’s names

you turned on the radio and started driving to changbin’s house

such a relief he was feeling good now

it was worrying to see him feeling bad when you came into the locker room

while you drove out the campus, someone was watching the scene from the football field, alone

“can we talk?”, he sent you a message

chan asked you to meet in your secret place

it was a nice garden nearby

the day was quite cold but beautiful

when you got there, chan was sitting on a bench

at the moment you saw him from behind, your heart started to beat faster

chan always gives you this good feeling

“hellooo”, you hugged him from behind and then sat beside him

he reciprocated but not like he usually does

“sorry I’m late”, you said

“we have time”

“are you okay?”

“actually, I wanna talk”

the weather somehow became colder

you put your hands inside the pocket of your hoodie

everything he said after that showed dissatisfaction

he explained he saw you hanging out with changbin last night

“we weren’t ‘hanging out’, I was helping him”

“everything was prepared. last night I prepared everything, I made you dinner, I decorated the living room, I was waiting for you”

what was he talking about?

“well, I- I didn’t know… and I told you I had the busiest day ever”

“you even drove changbin’s car I don’t know where”

“chan, I don’t understand what you’re trying to say”

“look…”, shit, stop being calm in a moment like this, bang chan!

you were confused and angry at the same time

“y/n, I’m… I got pretty disappointed, this is what I’m trying to say. I saw both of you coming out the locker room. and I’ve been hearing here and there that you guys’ friendship is too special”, the calm chan was gone

“what?! it doesn’t make sense!”

“last night was meant to be a special time for us. I gave it up because I understood you were so tired, and then I went there and saw you all smiles with changbin. how do you think I should feel?”

his voice showed how disappointed he was but you couldn’t understand

w h y

you took a deep breath between the thoughts he was throwing out

“let me conclude. you’re saying you think I’m cheating on you”

“this is your conclusion”

“no, chan. this is what you’re telling me between the lines”

the bunch of feelings made you want to cry

but you didn’t

you were going to finish that conversation

after talking a lot, you both stood there in silence

complete silence

“what made you so sad about last night?”, you asked, afraid of being too harsh

“summer break is coming soon, I thought we could travel together”

then you realised

he was planning it for a long time

he prepared a trip and a nice friday night date to announce that to you

you felt bad for him but then the anger came out when you remember what he said

“I didn’t imagine at all”

“it’s okay. I’m okay with you not going yesterday, I would prepare the whole dinner again, but the fact that you were with him…”

“yeah. I understand your point. and, chan, I’m so sorry I screwed up our dinner date. and everything you planned. I’m sorry. but I just can’t get over the fact you think I dumped you yesterday to hang out with changbin as if… as. if. I would ever have the guts to cheat on you”

“I trust you, y/n”

“I think you don’t”

“it’s just that I was so overwhelmed in feelings. I still am. and hear people saying that kind of stuff made me mad at first but then it made me overthink…”

“do you believe them?”

“no…”

he believed them

you could forgive everything, you felt so sorry for messing up what he planned and omg the trip on summer break you’d love to go

but the fact that he was assuming you could cheat on him

it brought back your old memories

that’s why you couldn’t trust boys for so long

your ex boyfriend did the same, he assumed you cheated on him when actually

he was the one cheating

he made you look bad when he was the dirty one

overthinking and overthinking

was chan doing the same?

you became defensive

“are you…”

he looked at you while you stood up and started walking around

“are you trying to find a reason to break up? if so, just do it! if you’re the one wanting to be with someone else, just say it!”

“what do you mean, y/n? this is not what I’m trying to say!”

“you knew, chan”

don’t cry, not now

“I told you about my past relationship, I told you what he did to me and now you’re doing the same. you knew how much my feelings were hurt”

“no, that’s…”

you didn’t want to listen him defending himself because he already said too much about you

“tell me if you want to go out with that new girl who attends all the games and talks to you every day! but do not come here and tell me you listen to people’s stupid opinion on my friendship with changbin when you always knew I could never to that to you”

words came out way too easily

“well, you’re doing the same. you’re assuming something”

“I see it. I see how much space you give her”

“what? y/n, I could never”

“well, I couldn’t too. but turns out we don’t trust each other anymore”

summer break came up

the last weeks were for finals, busy days and lots of studying

you didn’t meet chan again

whenever you saw him by distance, you changed the route

but since everyone was so into the finals, it wasn’t that noticeable

on summer break, you planned a trip with your family

you just didn’t want to stay home thinking and overthinking

chan got hurt

you got hurt too

before you travelled, you met yours and his friends

class mates and football team

chan had travelled already

probably with someone else? you didn’t know

“you were perfect together”, some friends said

“guys, move on”, you tried to smile

“no second chance?”

“hm?”, you just didn’t want to answer

“that’s what he said too: no second chance”

so he actually didn’t even think of getting back together, right?

oh, chan. you truly use your words for better or worse

so passionate when in love; so cold when in pain

“let’s just not talk about this, okaaay”

summer break was everything you needed

your family travelled and when you came back, you went travelling with friends too so it was a pretty nice time

at least you could forget the friday nights you spent listening to the playlist chan made you

“to my babygirl”

what an idiot

you also didn’t want to think what he was doing at the moment

or if he came back from the trip he originally planned to do with you

you know what, everything happens for a reason

it was better like this

boys would be boys and chan only proved what you already knew

you can’t really trust them

coming back to college after the amazing break was bittersweet

people felt renewed

and sad because they didn’t want to come back yet

you could see all your friends again

there would be this welcoming party at campus and someone was announcing it on your first class that day

luckily you got there in time and the professor wasn’t there yet

while the girl was talking and everyone was already sat down paying attention

chan opened the door

he mumbled a “sorry” to the girl, in his lovey dovey way of being

and sat down

you missed him so much

that fact hit you very hard

he was precious, you could say it for sure

despite the break up fight you had

your memories were all good and you treasured them the most

you felt like he saw you when passing by your chair

but you didn’t look at him

which was pretty difficult cause you had to hold down your instincts

he sat with someone he knew

“are you going?”, you overheard their conversation

“hmm… yeah, yeah”

ok, you would definitely go too

time to breathe new air

as time passed by, you realised it could be different

that fight didn’t have to finish everything

if you both waited a little bit

you could talk better

and solve all the small details

but maybe the timing…

the finals week

stress all around

pressure all around

it didn’t help at all

on that saturday night, you were going to forget him for good

the welcoming party is always a nice place to have fun with friends

you were gorgeous

not only because everyone was saying this, but because you looked at yourself in the mirror

confidence overload

you didn’t feel this good in a while

your friend came by to pick you up

“dressed to kill, right?”, she said

“not my intention”, you did some kind of angelic face

the place was full when you came in

and you didn’t want to catch attention

but turns out the lights were so on you

a lot of eyes focused on you

mainly the ones who matter the most

chan looked up to you

“pick up the jaw off the floor, bro”, one of his friends joked

there were so many thoughts in his head at that moment

you could never know

not that you wanted, tho

you were there to have fun

party was great

but you always needed to breathe some fresh air

that’s why you went out a little bit

it was a cold night out there

you walked a little bit to the fence of the football field

it wasn’t empty around, but in the exactly place you were

there was no one but you

the music could still be heard

but the peace you felt there, breathing the fresh air

incredible

it didn’t take much for you to feel you weren’t alone anymore

maybe it’s someone passing by, you thought

until the person stood there right by your side

leaning against the fence just like you

you didn’t have to look at him to know it was him

the strong perfume smell said it all

“how have you been?” he broke the silence

“good. you?”

you two weren’t looking at each other

“good, too. I heard you travelled on summer break”

“yes, I did”

the tension could be cut with a knife

“I went travelling too. but I couldn’t stop thinking of you there”, chan said

your heart skipped a beat

you hate how much he has an effect on you

you looked at him for the first time standing there

the way he looked back at you

“I actually heard you said there was no second chance for us. so why did you keep thinking of me?”, it was harsh but chan knew you

he gave you a smirk as if he knew you said that because of the resentments

you were now looking at each other

close enough

his way of speaking was so charming, soft and low voice

“I wish I could change the past, y/n. I don’t think our relationship should end like that, I was childish”

“it’s not like you’re 100% guilty”

“I was hurt, you were too. spending time alone made me think of that, and think of you…”

come on, bang chan

it was getting harder to stand there looking at him

while desiring to hug him so bad

you looked down while he looked at you

you didn’t have anything to say

words were running in your head, but nothing came out of your lips

“you look so pretty tonight”, he said, “it’s unfair”

“is it the fact that I’m pretty tonight? the fact that I’m still good friends with your friends? or even the fact that I’m here at the place we always met?”

he was so serious

and so handsome

his eyes said so much and you couldn’t decipher

you just wanted to drown into them

“maybe because you’re something I can’t forget, even if I wanted to”

the words came out of his peachy lips so easily

you smirked at him

“so sue me”

the way you were looking at each other said it all

he held one of your hands and reached your lips

fingers interlocked

you went to him at the same time, touching his shoulders and laying your arms around his neck

how much did you miss him?

“I missed you so much”, he said with a smile

you kissed him again

“can we start over?”, his forehead on yours

eye to eye

“let’s talk about this later. I wanna enjoy this moment”, you said

he pulled you closer to a hug

the bear hug

nothing else mattered

just you and him, under the moon

missing each other like crazy

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nickcampos111-blog · 5 years

Text

The Challenges and Advantages of Remote Work

Do we really need to sit in an office from 9 to 5, 5 days a week? We don’t. This kind of schedule has proven to not work for everyone. More and more companies are offering flexibility at work, and most of us are wondering if remote working is our future too.

Being your own lord of the schedule sounds great, but working remotely poses certain challenges, both for employer and employees, and these should be taken into consideration when deciding whether or not a team should go remote.

Challenges of Remote Work

Communication

This one I’ll address first, as I find it to be the most common cause of all other remote management issues. When communication fails, everything else starts crumbling down.

Both remote and in-office teams are susceptible to having communication issues. But, when we deal with such problem face-to-face, we’re able to analyze the root of the problem and find a solution. On the other hand, with remote teams it’s commonly assumed the distance is the root of communication issues, and therefore we don’t work towards fixing the problem, as there’s nothing we can do about it.

Communication issues are even bigger when a part of the team works in-office, but some employees don’t. This often causes them to feel isolated, because they’re missing out on juicy office gossip.

Time zones present yet another issue when it comes to communicating. It’s difficult to stay in the loop with coworkers who start working when you go to bed. Your communication then has to revolve around using slow communication methods like emails. Ultimately, it means that resolving issues with them might take a long amount of time, which could have been used more productively.

Engagement and Trust

These two are built upon human interaction. However, it’s difficult to connect to someone you don’t really know. Let’s be realistic – you probably can’t show off your great personality through Slack. Nor can video conference make up to all those missed office chit-chats.

Trust is the foundation of employee engagement, and ultimately, team performance. My claims are backed up by Gallop's research on the qualities of the best leaders. Trust is the factor that topped the list. Here’s what they say at Gallup:

“When employees don’t trust organizational leadership, their chances of being engaged are one in 12. But when that trust is established, the chances of engagement skyrocket to better than one in two. That’s more than a six-fold increase.”

Let’s look at it this way – as a remote employee, it’s easy to see your work as simply a tool to pay your bills. However, this can’t last for long. Being so disconnected from work will eventually get you sick of it. In order to be able to succeed long-term within the company, engagement is a must.

Physical separation poses a great barrier to building a team spirit. For virtual teams, it has proven useful to organize, at least annually, a team-building gathering, where employees have the chance to interact in person and bond.

Overworking

This might come as a surprise. Many managers dream from remote working because they picture their employees slacking away when free of their oversight. But the truth is quite the opposite – remote workers are way more likely to overwork. The reason behind that is the difficulty in separating work and life.

First of all, leaving work behind is much easier when working in an office. You have a billion small tasks every day, and when the clock ticks 5 PM and everyone gets up and starts packing, it’s easy to just leave it up for tomorrow. But when your office is your home, it becomes difficult to simply switch off. You feel like you just want to finish that small task now and make tomorrow an easier workday, which never happens, because another task just like that one will always come up. And then you’re stuck in a loop of doing just-one-more-thing before calling it a day.

Another reason why it’s difficult to simply end a workday when working from home is the need to show productivity to your company. Remote workers often feel like their performance isn’t as visible as their in-office counterparts’ is, just because they don’t always see the bigger picture and priorities. This ends up in them working way more hours than their colleagues working .

Time Management

When working remotely, employees have to manage their own work time, which can get difficult with all life events going on. Like previously mentioned, it’s no easy task separating work and office hours. For some, one text or a glance at a TV screen leads to another, and before they know it’s evening and they have nothing to present at the end of the day. Eventually, it results in many sleepless nights trying to finish up what’s due, but all that could have been avoided with just a bit better organization.

However, in many remote companies, this issue is addressed through different management tools. There are a lot of project organizing applications that allow teams to keep track of what they’re working on. Some companies even use employee time tracker software, which gives a manager an insight into tasks and projects employees are working on, and time spent on them. My company uses Workpuls and this time tracking tool has proven to be especially useful with remote teams, as it creates transparency of work between employer and employees. On one hand, employers know if their workers do what they’re paid for or not. On the other hand, employees have solid proof of their work, so they can avoid overworking.

Distractions

Whether it’s your family, your pet, or a DHL guy in need of your signature, working from home is full of disturbances. On one hand, you’re free from office gossipers or loud-typing colleagues, but you’re facing another range of home distractions, which can be even worse.

It can be really difficult with family members going on about their days, watching loud TV shows and yelling at each other without realizing you’re working. It gets even more challenging with small kids, when you have to tell them you “don’t have time for that now.” Ouch.

Bad Health Habits

It’s obvious how this is one of the remote working problems. First of all – the fridge is close. It might be 2 steps away or it might be 40, nonetheless, it’s close enough to be a regular break destination. For many of us, it just seems too time-consuming to stop work in order to prepare a cooked meal. It usually ends up making sandwiches and eating snacks just to preserve some time. For some it’s quite the opposite – I know many remote workers who simply forget to eat while working. In both cases, we have created bad eating habits from working from home.

Another thing we tend to forget when switching from office to remote is comfort. Sure, the house is comfy, but is it comfy enough to work around 8 hours? Sitting on a sofa or on a counter with a laptop might not appear so uncomfortable, but I’ll ask you again in a year of bad-posture-sitting. We tend to forget why our office chairs are expensive. We’ll probably remember that when our physiotherapist bill comes.

Ultimately, stretching out workday between actually working and slacking doing unimportant things ends up in forgetting to go outside enough. Feeling that lack of vitamin D yet?

Advantages of Remote Work

However, those issues don’t seem unsolvable. When addressed from the beginning, they shouldn’t be an issue, especially when keeping in mind the benefits that remote work brings.

Productive Workforce

It’s finally widely accepted that keeping employees under close watch from 9 to 5 is the key for a productive team is false. No matter how much one might love their job, going to the office every day where an ever-watchful boss eye follows your every move can be demotivating, to say the least.

The fact is, remote work increases productivity. Some of us are night owls, and some are more morning birds. What’s more, I like to work with a music background, while I’m sure most of the office colleagues won’t share that enjoyment. Working remotely allows everyone to tailor workday to suit their ideal atmosphere, whether it’s a dark room or a café.

Money-Saving

Remote working saves money on both sides. Employees don’t have to worry about traveling costs, especially those living away from the city center, or lunch and coffee expenses, and those can add up unseen. Companies save even more, especially on office space expenses. Remember, they don’t just include space renting price. More employees mean more furniture and technology, more lightning and water bills. Then there are office supplies, and it doesn’t hurt that this way you’re saving a few trees too.

Better Recruitment

Not being geographically limited opens the door for a bigger talent pool. This way a company isn’t limited to potential workers in its area, but can choose the best-suited candidate from the other side of the globe. It goes the same way for workers. A person living in a third-world country isn’t restricted to that country’s salary standard, when their only limit to getting a job of their dreams is their skill competence.

Remote recruiting, in a way, is an engagement booster. Employees appreciate employers who don’t require them to sacrifice a piece of the way they live in order to move closer to the job, for example.

Global recruitment also results in diversity, and that brings increased originality and creativity. This can prove very useful in client-based business. If you have, let’s say, a lot of clients from China, a remote worker from China can help achieve better communication with those clients.

Better Work-Life Balance

Companies who allow remote working understand workers have other things going on in their lives besides work. Obviously, it doesn’t mean work comes last, just that they have that flexibility to fit both work and private matters in their daily schedule. For a person whose kid goes to kindergarten, it means a great deal being able to stop mid-work to pick the child up, and then get back to where they left off. It certainly doesn’t affect the quality of work, and it gives them one less thing to worry about and they can fully focus on the work.

Final Thoughts

A remote team can function just as well as in-office team, or even better, as long as you’re aware of certain challenges it poses and address them from the start.

#remote work #time management #productivity

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penzyroamin · 7 years

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So some of yall wanted that soft Waitress-inspired Javid au

Okay so

Setting the scene-- everyone lives in a small suburb. Kath, Crutchie, Spot, and a few of the others go to a university in the nearest big city, Race, Mush, Blink, and Romeo go to community college, and Sarah, Jack, and Specs go to this fancy arts school. (Sarah for fashion, Jack for painting, and Specs for dance, the flexible wizard that he is.) And Davey, as just the beginning of his stress, is taking night classes at the community college to slowly work towards a degree.

Why is Davey taking night classes, you ask? Because he’s working full time at a diner/coffee shop/cafe/we don’t give a single fuck what you call us just tip properly that Jacobi technically owns, but Davey basically runs, because Jacobi is an old man and Davey is too stressed out to let an old man handle the finances.

But why the everloving hell does Davey have to overwork himself that much? Because Esther and Mayer died a few years ago, and Davey is the main source of income, desperately trying to keep Sarah in her insanely expensive school and Les in high school, because dammit, Sarah’s too talented and Les is too young for them to have to give up. So most are in some of their last years of college, and some of them work at Jacobi’s.

And those who work at Jacobi’s are getting front row tickets to Davey’s Internal Breakdown. Kath in particular is their main barista and is getting more and more worried about Davey, considering he’s their main baker and still takes up all their management duties. When she finds out that he’s their only early morning baker, she sort of flips. Because, well, he’s getting four, maybe five hours of sleep a night, tops. And then when he starts yelling at a rude soccer mom who didn’t tip Crutchie despite changing her order three times, she decides to step in.

And that’s how Operation G.D.L., or “Get Davey Laid” is formed. Kath, Race, and Crutchie drive themselves to the edge of their sanity scouring through what the know about Davey for information on his “type”, and then, at 9:00, while clearing out stale pastries, Race strikes gold.

“Do you think he might be gay?”

All three of them are silent for like ten minutes, just sitting there, and then Crutchie just announces “HOLY FUCKING S H I T.”

Kath decides to take a visit to the Jacobs residence and check their theory. It is confirmed. Extremely confirmed. When she asks, Sarah literally chokes on a BBQ chip and starts laughing, because d u h. And so, Kath leaves with new information and a tupperware of Davey’s apple crumble that Les snuck her.

So they turn their attention to grilling every single guy in any of their schools to see if he’d be right. They waste maybe a month on community college and university guys before Race has another epiphany.

Jack Kelly, his boyfriend’s adopted brother who goes to art school with David’s sister. Obscenely attractive and can be counted on to make the first move. Also, the biest person to walk the earth since William Shakespeare himself. He’s perfect, they decide. And so, their plan is made.

Medda is a friend of everyone at the cafe, and especially a friend to Davey. She’s the closest he has to a mother figure, and has offered many times to provide financial aid for Sarah’s school. So Kath knows that if Jack stops by, Davey will consider it his duty to say hello. And then she off-handedly mentions that it’s his break, and Jack is ushering him over to sit down and have a scone.

After only a few minutes, it becomes transparently clear that G.D.L. has to become M.S.D.M.T.B.B.G.T.S: Make Sure Davey Marries This Boy Because Godammit They’re Soulmates. And it takes a full day of peer pressure before Davey’s like “Oh yeah I got his number lol”. And they just. Weren’t aware he could function like an actual human being at times.

Cut over to Davey and he’s talking to Jack about how he likes 80s movies and always wanted a boy to stand on his lawn with a boom box. Jack’s just sorta like *side eyes emoji*.

They text each other and meet at the diner for about a month, and eventually Jack’s like “Okay can we go on like... an actual date. Cause I like you a lot?” And Davey, bless his heart, has a moment of internal conflict. On one hand: full time job and night classes taking up all of his time. On the other: this incredible, sweet, secretly dorky, really cute guy likes him and wants to date him.

He says no, because since when is Davey good at self preservation? And Jack is like “Wait are you okay” because boy howdy he is not looking steady on his feet and Davey just. Spills everything. In the middle of the cafe. Tells him about his parents, about his classes, about everything. And then just sorta... flees. Takes his lunch break in the 7-11 bathroom.

He gets home from class later than usual, at like 11:45, and is temporarily scared shitless because he thinks he sees a burglar. He tells himself nothing’s wrong, and goes up to the Jacobs Sibling Apartment, and gets ready to sleep for three hours, and then. Hella loud music. For no reason. Like any self respecting person clinging to minuscule amounts of rest, he heads to the window to cuss the person out.

It’s Jack. Standing outside in three layers, holding a wireless speaker over his head. He sees Davey staring and yells “I KNOW IT’S NOT A BOOM BOX, BUT I’M NOT AS STRONG AS I LOOK.”

Davey’s neighbors start to cuss him out as Davey clambers downstairs in a bathrobe, tank top, and pajama pants to catapult himself at the boy who’s willing to stay up till midnight in November to ask him out.

Jack turns out to be a specialist in cheesy speeches. The jist of this one: I know you have a lot on your plate, but I’m willing to try my best to make us work, even if that means staying up until midnight every Friday to take you to the 24 hour market to eat fried chicken in the car. Davey actually starts crying, (he’s a big softie shhhh) and he kisses Jack so hard poor boy almost falls on his ass into a puddle.

Fast forward a year and a half later, Sarah’s graduated and getting a good paycheck working for a design company that Kath just so happens to have written an exclusive on. Romeo and Specs find themselves as matchmakers for the two. Davey was able to finally finish his first degree, and is getting a phd in biology (big nerd never got over his snake phase smh) while still working part time at the cafe, which Race has taken over with the help of Spot, who Davey managed to beat into a fairly good baker. Jack’s art career is going surprisingly well, and he credits 99% of his inspiration to his “nerdy boyfriend who cooks like the rat in Ratatouille”. Crutchie shocked everyone, got a masters, and is traveling Europe with a mysterious partner that no one knows a thing about. (Besides Davey, who knows everything about them and demands to be best man at the upcoming wedding.)

Davey’s the one who sucks it up and proposes, three years after they started dating. Literally no one is surprised. Davey tries to make the wedding cake a pie. Jack refuses. Davey still insists on making the cake.

They live happily ever after thanks for reading my bs byyyyeee.

#penzy #newsies #javid #my aus

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chapitre7 · 7 years

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My Sun and Stars

Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo [달의 연인-보보경심 려] fanfiction

Modern AU

Wang So/Hae Soo

For @krysyuy. Happy birthday, love! ♥

She’s not the type of person to dread Wednesdays.

On Tuesday night, she lays her ironed clothes on the chair closest to her bed, ready for pick-up in the dark hours of morning. She crosses one more day on the calendar on the wall, applies cream to her face for nightly care, lies on her bed and looks at the sky through her skylight. Sometimes she makes a wish. Not to anyone in particular, maybe to Cassiopeia, hidden behind clouds. She wishes for a good day, a peaceful, sunny day where she can make her customers happy. Hae Soo knows it’s too much to ask from the stars, that people would be people, but she tries. A wish is a wish and not a certainty, and it’s better than wishing for nothing at all.

So she wakes on Wednesday morning with an orchestra of birds singing in her phone, and she picks up the clothes she had already chosen for the day, walking to the bathroom with her eyes barely open. The morning is neither cold nor hot, so the water is not a second alarm, it’s the start of a brand new day, sun-kissed warmth on her skin and flower petals in her soap. She wakes up early enough to wash her hair, to dry it, to apply a lotion with the same fragrance as her soap. Her eye shadow is the rose color of her uniform, and her lip-gloss is a transparent red, only enough to show healthiness, to make her smile shine. She reads her horoscope while she eats breakfast, while the weather forecast plays in the TV in the background, and she cheers mentally because it’s positive, telling her to go for it. The day is yours, Hae Soo. Weekend is still far but something good will happen today. She steps outside her house, walks to the bus stop with a skip in her step and no umbrella in her purse.

“Good morning!” She greets her sleepy co-workers. Some grumble over their coffee cups, others use the mirrors in the establishment to double-check their make-up, to make sure their restless nights are covered, mechanically replying without looking at her. Soo puts her things away in her locker in the staff room, runs her hands over her uniform, smoothing out the fabric, and she’s ready. Everything is set for a brand new day.

“No checking the stock for you today, Soo,” her manager says, promptly followed by the echoed groans of those who would man the stock.

“Roger that!” Soo says, cheerfully gliding towards the door, greeting the morning workers who pass by. She lures them with a shining smile and compliments on the women’s matte lipstick, grinning at those who like her honest, nice words enough to stop by, promising that it’ll be really quick to show them their new collection, the quality of their long-lasting, not-transferring foundation, and the excellent make-up remover they also have that will feel like washing years away in just seconds.

The well-dressed morning women diminish quickly. The late ones don’t even spare her a glance. Soo greets retired older women and housewives with the same open heart, “Your hair looks vibrant this morning, Mrs. Shin!”, and they reward her with blushes, with visits, buying hand-cream they don’t need because they discover how nice they smell. Soo is a waste in the stock room; she’s much better as a busy little bee, dropping pollen from her touches, and making flowers grow strong with her buzz. She inhales the misty smell in the morning air and appreciates the day even when it grays out and the first drops wet the asphalt.

The woman and her child arrive around ten.

“This is our new fragrance,” Soo tells her after the woman states her object of desire. Soo is a model poster girl, standing still with a smile on her face, her scarf even matching the colors in the perfume’s poster. She keeps the smile on as the woman picks the bottle from the self, sprays herself on the wrist, puts it back on the shelf without much of a reaction. Soo’s smile falters an imperceptible millimeter when the woman’s child stretches his little arm towards the only shelf he can reach and picks a bottle. Her eyes dart to the mother but she’s already immersed in a completely different product with her back to them, and she panics internally when she realizes it’s not a tester that the child is holding. She wants to curse but cursing is a jinx and it’s too early for jinxes, she can’t have them, not when she’s already planning on having lunch at her favorite restaurant and exchanging a few cheery messages if she’s lucky.

Soo doesn’t curse; she bends a little to be closer to the child’s eye level and offers him both her palms.

“I like that one too! Why don’t you give it back to auntie Soo?”

The child holds the bottle closer to his chest, clearly away from Soo. She licks her lips and looks around carefully, not standing from her position. Her co-workers are all busy and the mother is still preoccupied with every single shade of lipstick from the stand.

“Aw,” she says with a pout. “I don’t think your mommy likes it though. Why don’t we show her something else?”

He shakes his head. Soo swallows. Out of arguments, she reaches out to take the bottle from his hands and he pulls back, ever so slightly. With her hand on the perfume’s cap, she tries to persuade him with a benevolent raise of eyebrows, with all her teeth, but he still struggles. Soo pulls, he pulls back, and the second she believes she’s won their little tirade is short-lived when the cap comes out in her hand and the bottle falls to the floor and breaks into dozens of floral little pieces.

The silence that follows is quickly broken by the child’s crying.

“What are you doing to my son?!”

Of course she’s there when Soo doesn’t need her to be.

“I’m not paying for that! What is wrong with you?!”

Of course she checks her son over and he doesn’t have a single injury when Soo’s shoes are drenched in overpriced perfume.

Don’t curse, she tells herself as her manager attempts to calm the woman down and ultimately lets her walk away with a tearless wailing son. Soo almost expected the child to look over his shoulder and give her the tongue but he doesn’t because the universe’s sense of humor was on her side. Maybe. Her manager’s frown speaks otherwise.

“I’m going to have to take this out of your pay, Soo.”

It’s only the most expensive perfume in the boutique. “Yes,” she says, bowing. “I’m deeply sorry for my mistake, it won’t happen again.”

“Sure. Clean up this mess, okay?”

She keeps the corners of her mouth upright after a deep breath. She tries to sweep and mop it all up quickly as to not disturb any customer — while thinking that that spot of the store is perfect for advertising the perfume, it didn’t have to be a complete disaster, after all —, and she only notices she missed a small glass shard at the far end of the store after she’s taken all the cleaning supplies away. She scooters close to it like a child about to steal a cookie from a hidden jar, crouches to pick it up and throw it in the trash, but she drops it the very next second with an “Ack!”. It’s such a small little cut, a harmless little thing, but blood flows like she’s a murder victim. She sucks on the wound, hurries past her manager with an apology and into the staff room where she keeps her purse and band-aids.

It’s fine. It’ll only be tricky to wash the dishes for a couple of days...

Soo sighs and she’s about to put her purse away when she looks at her phone inside and gets a funny little impulse. She picks it up and types a message, a little giggle bubbling out of her and jingling in the deserted and badly lit room.

I cut my finger :(

She allows herself to wait a full minute before accepting that he’s probably busy and can’t answer in a timely fashion. She thinks she can picture the answer, even the scoff that accompanies it on his side, a jabbing How do you even manage these things, you don’t even work with anything sharp! that she would follow with a dignified crossing of arms and a pout. He had witnessed her in several accidents, cheap sunglasses that she breaks ridiculously often, coins that drop into a pit of oblivion that certainly opens up on the ground every time something slips from her fingers, and really, she opened the door of a restaurant on his nose on their first blind date. He probably half finds it endearing, for he usually wears an expression of amusement and wonder when she can’t find her keys in her purse, and half wants to kill her when she forgets things at home pretty much every time they go on a date and she has to dart back up and risk falling down the stairs (sometimes actually falling down the stairs). But she wants to be a little cute, wants the smile that makes her feel pretty and endearing, even if it’s not the most sophisticated adult flirting technique to get the man from something status to boyfriend status.

So she puts her phone away and walks back to the store with only one thought: Lunch. Lunch will be good with delicious spicy chicken and messages about their favorite historical drama’s melodramatic developments.

Two hours later, the notice on the restaurant’s closed doors come as a kick in the gut. Her stomach growls as she reads that the establishment is temporarily shut down and the page is signed by a health inspector. But she ate there only a week ago? Should she be writing her will? Were bugs involved?!

She wants to slouch towards the nearest restaurant but a quick glimpse at her wristwatch tells her to hurry up or she’d be late and she’d had enough troubles for the day. She orders black bean noodles and thinks that it’s okay, that’s good enough, she likes those too. And hey, if she hasn’t died from food poisoning yet then she’s safe. It’s a solid assumption. Probably.

If I die from late food poisoning, I’m leaving my plants under your care.

She bites her bottom lip and touches the tips of her shoes together, waiting, waiting, making movement on that rainy day. The reply arrives at the same time as her plate.

There’s a possibility that they’ll live longer under my care. Should I be worried and writing my own will or

She smiles as she stirs her noodles so the sauce is evenly spread and ready to fill her eager stomach.

No, I’m the only victim, so you’re safe to finish Ha Ji Won’s filmography.

She feels it with the first slurp of her noodles. Her phone flashes with a message, something about the Damo episode she was supposed to have watched the night before but fell asleep in the middle, most likely some praise about Ha Ji Won’s action moves and mesmerizing gaze, but Soo is too busy staring down at the dark spot on her uniform, one that she knows will still be there even after she tries to wipe it away. It’s almost a miracle that she remembered to take her scarf off and put it in her locker and also a blessing because she’s already whimpering and hitting her head against the table in what could only be described as despair.

So, I’m having a bad day, she sends, along with the unhappiest emote she finds. She dares not write really bad day, lest it attracted even worse accidents. What would smart, brave Ha Ji Won do?

She’s careful with her next slurps, her feet no longer tapping each other under the table, no longer moving, the beginning of defeat in them, on her shoulders. The phone emits a happy beep.

Do you want me to pick you up? I’m leaving the office early today. We could eat something that is not life-threatening.

Excitement is an arrow that makes her back stand straighter and her shoes to tap the floor. She really did want to see him and talk about silly things they both liked, re-enact the perfume accident dramatically, hear about his intern who played too many video-games and used too much slang, just add a splash of color to her day. She would cover up the day’s imperfections, touch her cheeks with the warm comfort of his company, and maybe, hopefully, touch his lips with her lipstick. Beat that, Ha Ji Won.

She almost skips all the way back to the boutique, only remembering the stain on her blouse when she sees her reflection in one of the mirrors by the entrance, so she covers it with her hand and rushes to staff room to brush her teeth and reapply her lipstick and wish upon an invisible star in the cloudy afternoon sky that there’ll be no further incidents, no minor disturbances, only the sweet approach of evening and the promise of comfort and—

Every single item inside her purse is stained with sticky, reddish liquid. Inside the bathroom, she sees her reflection in the mirror pull the criminal lip-gloss into the open, staring aghast at the cap with the applying brush. Betrayal has a name and it’s every product she sells to innocent, unsuspecting women, and as she empties her bag and tears pieces of toilet paper for the menial task of speed cleaning, she thinks, grumbles, that maybe she shouldn’t sell them with such enthusiasm, the backstabbing buggers. After doing the best she could with the time and material she had, she puts her purse back in her locker with a pout, foregoing the lip-gloss entirely, into the garbage can.

Even bad days have an end is the thought that keeps her going in the never-ending afternoon. Minutes take hours to pass, customers refuse to show up, to enter, to entertain her grumpy mind. She tries to cover up the stain in her blouse with her scarf but she’s conscious of it, of her toes that start to hurt inside her shoes, of her cheeks that hurt from trying too hard to please. Peace is a flower that wants to bloom in her mind, another flower for another day in the garden of her subconscious. It’s the hope to finally be herself, to just be, at the end of a busy day. It’s in every raindrop that touches her hair when she steps outside and looks at the dark sky to greet the falling evening.

When the hand of the clock finally points to freedom, Soo doesn’t dillydally. She tries not to rush either, tries to appear composed to her colleagues, even if they seemed to talk all day about her blunders behind their hands, just outside hearing distance. It’s okay. It’s okay to make mistakes and own up to them. It’s okay, accidents happen. It’s okay to slip, you can stand up again.

But Soo does slip. Literally. On the wet footprints by the boutique’s entrance, her heel slips and she holds onto the door so she doesn’t fall down and create a bigger spectacle than she already did. She’s several different shades of red when someone asks if she’s okay. She nods and tries to run from view — where, in that rain? Anywhere — but she realizes her heel has broken off so she can’t even make a graceful exit. She can only limp away, with her dirty purse close to her body, sticking close to the wall where there’s a small space of shelter from the rain.

She walks all the way to the corner of the street, where she takes a deep breath and sighs into her hands. Her eyes hurt from not wearing her contacts, contacts she hates. She hates her broken heel and how she’s going to have to buy a new one and pay for the broken perfume, which are expenses she wasn’t counting on. She hates the humidity that frizzes her hair, the drops she can’t shield herself from, and the embarrassed blush that makes her look even more like a teenager than she already does. She wants a new job. She wants something more.

The umbrella is what catches her attention first, covering her in the gloomy rain. Where did it come from? What side? Did it fall down from the sky? She looks up at him and he tilts his head to the side, blinks a couple of times, touches her hair with a warm hand that makes her wish she were a cat, ready to be taken away from the rain, into his arms, and ready to purr at his petting.

“What happened?” Wang So asks. “It doesn’t look like you’re out here because you like the rain, did you forget your umbrella?”

“Yeah... My heel broke,” she says, looking down, and his gaze follows hers. “Maybe you could... go to my flat and bring me new shoes so we can go out?” She bites her lip. Were they close enough that he’d pick up things she forgot? Or would he prefer for her to change? Would he wait for her? She really wants to change. She also just really wants to lie down and rest, but they had made plans...

“Don’t be silly, Soo. I’ll take you home, come on.”

She’s about to protest, something about looking ridiculous with only one heel, but his arm sneaks around her shoulders, brings her closer to his side, and together they walk under his umbrella, his steps matching her clumsy ones, all the way to his car. He covers her until she’s safe and sound on the passenger seat and then he closes the umbrella and rushes to his side, shaking the rain out of his hair with his hands. He gives her a smile that is more reassuring than any pep talk she had given herself, and she keeps on looking at him as he drives to her place.

Her friend Baek Ah had introduced them because he was, allegedly, tired of being their first choice of company for outings and he really wanted to spend time with his girlfriend without either of them sulking. They had things in common, Baek Ah had said, from their teenage interest in historical dramas to their diligence and righteous spirit. As a journalist, So had had fierce arguments with his Editor-in-Chief about covering political corruption, and all the articles that she found with his name attached to them had impressed Soo. He was a welcome change in her routine, and she knew Baek Ah knew it, too. Soo had broken off with so many acquaintances, people who made her feel inferior, and she wanted, needed... More. Someone who could offer her a chance to indulge in reading about Chinese zodiac signs and compatibilities, someone that she’d add on her phone under several different names: Blind Date, Baek Ah’s Friend, Ha Ji Won Fan. He could be her choice, Baek Ah had said. He could be her reminder that days could be good instead of just being day after day after day.

In his car, with all her little flaws bared to him, she faces him and wishes Baek Ah had introduced them sooner.

“Do you want to come up?” She says as she recognizes her neighborhood out the window on his side. “It’s raining. I could make us dinner.”

He parks the closest he can to her building.

“I could help you,” he says, but for a few seconds, neither of them really moves. It’s always hard to take the first step into the unknown, but Soo is so tired and so eager for a good evening that she takes it, a step out of the car, a heel-less step, and she limps away under the drizzle. So exits the car, catches up with her and offers his arm so they rush, together, towards the entrance.

“The kitchen is that way,” Soo says, pointing, “and you’re free to start dinner while I take a quick shower. I’m sorry about the mess.”

“No mess at all,” he says, looking around. “It’s very neat. I like the flowers.” He walks up to one of her vases and smells her peonies. Soo likes the genuine smile that graces his lips at the pleasing scent, at her apartment, at her. She excuses herself and he makes way for the kitchen.

Soo washes her hair, relaxes her tired muscles, tired feet under the shower. She lets the day flow out of her, down the drain, and welcomes the evening with steam in her lungs, with a healthy blush on her skin, nothing like she had felt earlier. She wears her round glasses and dresses in unflattering, oversized clothes, but with her small built, she’s aiming for a comfortable, cute look, and So does seem pleased when she hops next to him. They work together, chopping the vegetables, taking turns with different pans on the stove, setting the table, placing generous amounts of side-dishes for each other. Soo hears more than she talks, not because she feels her day was less important than his, but because she’s already tired of going over the same scenes over and over again, she’s already tired of that boy and his mother, of the images of pests crawling along the shelves of food she might have eaten, about people whispering behind her back. She hears him talk about what he had worked on that day, about his intern’s latest mishap, about places others had been to for an article that he wished he had written instead. He tells her of things that reminded him of her, a little stray cat that he saw on the way to lunch and that he fed on the way back, and embarrassing texts Baek Ah sent him while he was drunk that makes them both laugh.

Happy and fed, Soo lies on the couch in her living room while So washes the dishes, as he had offered. She closes her eyes but she doesn’t sleep. She just lies there in contentment, a song playing on the TV mingling with the sounds of So in the kitchen and the rain outside. A day could change so quickly, from the sun that greeted her at morning to the downpour that tempts her like a lullaby, but in the end, you choose what to make of it. You choose to let discouragement take over you and fall asleep in loneliness or you choose the other option. She hears So coming closer, hears him sit on the floor, feels his hand on her hair. She smiles in return, open to him, to his touch.

“I have something for you,” he says. She opens her eyes and they widen when they see the velvet box in his hand. “It reminded me of you.”

Soo sits up, her heart beating loudly against her eardrums, her pulse hot under her skin. Even if it’s just a present, even if it’s something small, on that rainy day, it feels big.

She opens the box and stares at the silver ring inside, at the small rhinestones and the thin lines that trace its surface. It’s too big for her ring finger so she places it on her middle finger, a shiny little contrast with the band-aid on her index finger. She admires it from a distance, appreciates the way it reflects the light, the little twinkle on the stones look like...

“It’s Cassiopeia. They said suns, moons and stars are popular nowadays.” He chuckles and takes her hand in his. It’s only then that Soo realizes he’s wearing a ring himself, with his own constellation. “I know it’s not your favorite.”

“They didn’t have Pegasus?” She grins as he groans, touches the back of her hand to his forehead.

“It was an accidental lisp!”

“No, it wasn’t. Repeat after me, three times fast, Pe-ga-sus.”

“I’m leaving.”

He gets up and pretends to leave but she pulls him back, laughing all the while, and he sits beside her on the couch, kisses the back of her hand, an off-hand gesture. They both rest their heads on the couch, their joined hands forming the w of the stars she wishes upon.

“I’m not really asking you for anything, Soo, we don’t have take steps you don’t want to take. But I’d love to—”

He’s blushing when she touches his cheek, when she pulls closer and kisses him. Her something, her little someone, giving her the stars when she had wilted. She opens her mouth against his, opening up like a moon flower, climbing on his lap when he pulls her, her arms locking around his neck. Out of breath, she pecks his lips once, twice, rests her forehead against his, fills her senses with him.

“Are you sure?”

With her hands still in his hair, she’s sure that his eyes shine brighter than the stars in her ring, than the stars hidden away from the rain. She nods and lets him carry her, the TV and the lights going off behind them, no sound in her home but the rain and the sound of their kisses, of their breath. His ring is cool against her skin and she shivers, she giggles, she calls his name as the day fades away.

She’s a morning kind of person. Wakes up before her alarm clock, gets up right away, the skylight always illuminating every corner of her life.

On that Thursday, Hae Soo wakes up with his arm around her waist. She looks down and the pale dawn shines on their matching rings, stars that glow all day long. She reaches for her phone and promptly turns her alarm off. Her boss’s scolding over her first ever tardy arrival is worth it. In fact, she’d trade her whole day for a few more minutes. Maybe she could call in sick? She rolls over to face him and scoots closer, as close as she can be, her cold nose making him stir and tighten his embrace around her.

She sleepily thinks that she needs to update his name on her phone. Boyfriend So ♥ doesn’t sound so bad.

With her arm around his naked torso, she’s sure she’s beaten Ha Ji Won’s leads by miles.

Special thanks to @justonehappyvictory for invaluable Ha Ji Won drama knowledge and ideas ♥

#Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo #Scarlet Heart Ryeo #Moon Lovers #fanfiction #Wang So #Hae Soo #So/Soo #Alternative Universe: Modern Setting

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adscititious-cacoethes · 7 years

Text

Petrichor (11/12)

Pairing: Eventual Trevor C./Reader; other background relationships Chapter: 11 of 12 Warnings: Swearing, mild danger, tension, confessions, vampires and werewolves and things that go bump in the night (PG-13) Word Counts: Chapter: 3,355 Total: 39,199 A/N: Penultimate chapter! @wonderfullywicked had a question about wings and things that I answered here if you’re interested in that sort of thing. I take prompts now! (see here for details). Reminder that this has a bunch of supernatural-y stuff, and also that this would not have seen the light of day (pun intended), if it weren’t for @chefgeofframsay. P.S. - Feedback would be cool P. P. S. - sorry if any chapters end kind of weird, this was written as one long thing and then I decided to break it up. Previous|Next

A knock on your door (what were you kidding, it wasn’t a knock, it was a pound) roused you from sleep. You reached out blindly for your phone, and, once you discovered that it was only six in the morning, groaned and pulled yourself out of bed. Flinging open the door, you found yourself face-to-face with a serious-looking Jeremy.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, immediately sobering up.

“Someone just tried to attack Mica and Blaine. They didn’t get in, Mica’s security system is literally insane, wow, but they didn’t see who it was, except for they tried to teleport in and that set the alarm off. They’re okay, but Geoff told Trevor and Ryan – they were already awake, working on something or other – to go and get them and bring them here. Trevor asked me to wake you up and tell you what was going on so you weren’t out of the loop. We called Jack, him and Ashley are with your parents and Geoff’s friend, but he’s going to stay with them for a while. This Novus asshole and his cronies seem to be staying in the area, but we want to be cautious and stuff.” You stared at Jeremy, wide-eyed, as your stomach turned to lead and a lump got caught in your throat.

“Holy shit.” You croaked, taking a staggering step backwards, and Jeremy followed, arms out like he was preparing to catch you.

“Hey, it’s alright, we’ll get this asshole, don’t worry. Mica and Blaine are safe. Mica didn’t even sound scared on the phone, she just called because she thought it’d be helpful to let us know.” Jeremy tried to reassure you as you continued to back up on shaking legs until your calves ran into it, falling onto it like a sack of potatoes.

“I – I’m sure she wasn’t, she’s not the type to get freaked out by shit like that. But still.” Your vision swam a little, and for a second you couldn’t figure out why, until hot tears ran down your cheeks. Even though you knew that this was undoubtedly an attack on your father, it felt like one on you. You couldn’t help but think that this was the direct result of thwarting your Prediction of Ashley – you saved one person from potentially being hurt, but at the cost of jeopardizing the safety of two others.

Jeremy handed you a tissue, which you took gratefully, and then awkwardly sat down next to you and patted you on the back. You weren’t sobbing by any means, but you could tell that Jeremy wasn’t necessarily used to having to comfort crying people, so you did your best to try to curb your tears and get your head back on straight.

It took a little bit, but once you were dry-eyed, you followed Jeremy to the kitchen and entertainment room, where it seemed that Geoff had called in the whole group, and a few faces that you didn’t recognize. Michael and Gavin were sitting on stools at the island, both with beers in their hands, despite the fact that it wasn’t even 7 AM yet. Lindsay was quietly talking to a woman with long brown hair and glasses at the kitchen table. In the other room, Geoff was half-collapsed into a recliner, while a man with shoulder-length hair and dyed tips stared intently at something on his phone, a semi-translucent man floating off to the side.

“That’s Meg, Gavin’s girlfriend.” Jeremy said, gesturing to the woman who was sitting at the table. She looked up at the sound of her name and smiled at you, waving a manicured hand. You blinked, and her aura flared to life (light blue, rolling out of her in soft waves, water nymph) as did your best to smile back and return the greeting.

“That’s Matt,” shifter, “and Larry.” Larry stayed exactly the same under the scrutiny of the Sight, so that, combined with his transparency, narrowed him down to either a ghost or a poltergeist. Neither man seemed to hear Jeremy, both continuing what they were doing in the other room. Lindsay pulled out the chair on her other side and patted the seat with her hand.

“Come have a seat, [Y/N], Trevor and Ryan said they’d pick up coffee and donuts on their way back to the penthouse.” She said, and you complied, curling yourself into a ball on the chair. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Jeremy wandered over towards the couch Matt was sitting on and plopped down next to him.

You spent the next twenty or so minutes trying your best to participate in the conversation that Lindsay and Meg had graciously pulled you into without any probing or comments, stomach rolling in a sickening sort of way, until both Jeremy and Geoff sat bolt upright, garnering the attention of everyone in the room.

“The dicks are back.” Geoff announced as Jeremy beamed and started scrambling off the back of the couch.

“Forget that, they brought food!” Jeremy shouted as he ran out of the room, Matt hot on his heels.

Sure enough, the two men came in a few minutes later, Matt already with a donut stuffed in his mouth and both of them holding bags and boxes in their arms. Mica and Blaine followed, both with drink holders full of presumably coffees in their hands, with Trevor and Ryan bringing up the rear. You jumped to your feet, and as soon as your friends had set down the drinks you flung an arm around each of them, pulling them into a hug.

“I’m sorry, and I’m glad you’re okay.” You whispered, and Mica just squeezed you tighter in response.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Blaine whispered back, ruffling your hair as he pulled away. You released Mica in favor of swatting away the offending hand, making all three of you giggle. You looked up, and behind Mica, Trevor just standing there, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. The two of you locked eyes, and you vaguely registered Mica elbowing Blaine and gesturing to you before pulling him away, Mica squeezing your bicep gently as they passed. Trevor took a step forward, so you did, too. The room filled with chatter again, or it had always been filled with chatter and you had just blocked it out for a bit, you weren’t sure, but you could hear Mica behind you, introducing Meg to Blaine (apparently the two women knew each other – who knew?). A little bit closer, and you saw that he had dark bags under his eyes, but you could See his aura was still decently red. Not just-fed bright, but not the scary, dark color that it had been a few days ago.

You wanted to say I missed you.

You wanted to say This is my fault.

You wanted to say Thank you for helping my friends.

You didn’t say any of that.

“You look tired, Trev.” You said instead, and immediately bit on your tongue, trying not to cringe and frown at the fact that you just called him a nickname that you had heard before, but he hadn’t said it was okay for you to say it. Trevor, however, lit up like a Christmas tree, and you tried to push back those negative thoughts. A movement caught your eye and you glanced over to see that Ryan was standing close to a still-eating Jeremy but was watching you and Trevor with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’d inform you that I’m a creature of the night.” He said, putting on a bit of a suave, smooth tone and placing his hands on his hips, making you laugh.

“Yeah, but even creatures of the night need to sleep sometime. Take a nap? Please?” You tried to keep the worry out of your voice, but you could still hear it and resorted to hoping that Trevor hadn’t picked up on it.

Trevor sighed, but nodded, “Alright, but only because you asked so nicely. Come and get me if you need anything, okay?” He waited until you had nodded and assured him that you would if you had to before leaving the room.

“Girl, you got it bad.” You nearly jumped out of your skin at Mica’s voice right next to your ear. The goddess was leaned in close, so much so that you had to step back as you turned to face her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and we’re not going to discuss it in a room full of ten other people.” You hissed, glaring at her, but she just laughed.

“Okay, whatever you say.” She said in a tone that you knew meant she didn’t believe a single word you said, throwing her hands up in surrender.

This time, when Geoff brought up the whole “staying in the penthouse until further notice” thing, you conceded, which meant that Lindsay and Meg went to go post a sign in your window, and you and Blaine spent the entire morning on the phone, cancelling and moving shipments around and calling people with orders and preorders that were supposed to be picking them up this week that you had had a “family emergency” and the shop would be closed “until next week, at least”. The good news was that the majority of your customers were understanding about it, sending you their well-wishes. The bad news was, that with your dual clientele, even between the two of you, it was almost noon by the time everyone had been called and dealt with.

Blaine had gone to work out with Jeremy, after the werewolf told him that they have a fully-stocked gym, and you were debating if you felt like trying to find your way back to the room you were staying in or if you should eat lunch, first, when Trevor padded into the kitchen.

“Sup, sleepy head?” You teased, and Trevor scowled playfully at you.

“Hey now, you’re the one who made me go nap, you’re not allowed any jokes about it.”

“I didn’t make you do anything.” You insisted as Trevor poured some water in a kettle and set it on the stove.

“Yeah, but you asked, so I wasn’t about to say no.” He responded like he was telling you about the weather, but your heart pounded in your chest and your stomach flip-flopped.

That means he likes me, right? You thought to yourself, trying to ignore the part of you that was painfully aware that “like” doesn’t necessarily mean “I-think-you’re-cute-want-to-kiss-me?” like and could mean “I-think-you’re-a-cool-cat-let’s-be-friends” like.

“What do you want for lunch? We’ve got a ton of shit in here.” Trevor asked, opening the fridge up so you both could see inside.

You pushed away your trains of thought as best you could, opting to focus on making lunch with Trevor (after debate, you decided on grilled ham and cheese, which sparked a long debate about why “grilled cheese” was called that, when over half the time it wasn’t actually grilled) and enjoying his undivided attention.

Yeah, you had it bad, but you weren’t about to actually, verbally admit that to anyone…until Mica came barging into your room that night.

“Alright, we’re alone, door’s closed, can’t escape, so bitch I swear you better tell me what’s up with you and tall, dark, and fangy right now.” She demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“Tall, dark, and fangy? Really?” You raised an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes in response.

“Best I could come up with while enraged that you didn’t clue me in sooner!” Mica said defensively, making herself at home on the bed. You fell back so that you were laying down, feet dangling off the side and face near her knees.

“Clue you in to what, Mica, I don’t even know what’s going on.”

“Well it’s obvious you like him.”

You sighed, “Yes, Mica, fine, you’ve wrenched it out of me. I like Trevor, I think he’s cute and I’m pretty sure I have a massive crush on him. But it’s just that: a silly crush.” You let yourself get heavy on the jabbing sarcasm, but just saying it out loud made something relax a little inside of you.

“Honey, it is way more than a crush,” She scoffed and rolled her eye, “Sooooo, you have to tell me all about him, how did you two meet?” asked Mica, giddy, leaning forward and pushing at your shoulder.

“You know how we met, in an alley when those guys were chasing me.” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes.

Mica either hadn’t been paying attention when you told that story the first time or she was playing it up for fun (probably the latter), because she just ooooo’d and sighed softly, “He defended you from the first moment you met, how romantic!”

“Yeah, well, I blasted a banshee in the mouth, so it wasn’t completely one-sided.” You huffed, a little indignant. Mica nudged your arm with her shoe.

“Girl, I know you can take care of yourself, it’s just cute, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved her off, playing up your annoyance, but a smile was still slowly creeping across your face. Mica swatted at you and you both dissolved into giggles for a few minutes.

“Tell me what you think about him.” She asked once you’d caught your breath.

“I dunno. He’s really nice, and thoughtful. He sends me cute videos of puppies. He’s super cute, he seems like he’s a dependable sort of person. He didn’t immediately assume that Blaine and I are together. He’s supportive and protective – he yelled at Michael cause of me, once, and he stood up to Geoff, his boss, to help me get Geoff to sort of see things from my perspective. And, uh. He’s touched my wings.” You trailed off at the last part, whispering it and hoping that Mica wouldn’t hear you, wouldn’t notice.

You were very, very wrong.

“What the fuck? Really? Oh my god, when? Why? Was it like when Blaine had to detach you from that shelving unit?” Mica demanded, sitting upright and bending over you so she could look you in the eye, her long, dark hair tickling your ear.

“Uh, last night? Because he asked? He was super nervous and shy about it, but he said he was curious, so I figured there was no harm in it? He was really like, inquisitive and stuff, asked a lot of questions. It was kind of nice that he was so interested.”

“Yeah, interested in you, girl! Don’t get me wrong, I could see the other day that he seemed super into you but this is like icing on the cake.” Mica gushed, flinging herself back into the pillows again. You rolled onto your stomach and sat your chin in your hands.

“You seem like you’re reading into this, Mica. Is this because I haven’t gone on a date since the eighties?” You asked, peering at her.

“No! [Y/N], when you’ve been around as long as I have, you just know these things, okay? And I know that Trevor likes you.”

“And I know that right now, it’s his job to make sure I’m safe and shit, so he could just be a really nice guy.”

Mica rolled her eyes, but dropped the subject, instead letting you question her about her trip to Egypt for a while, before you finally kicked her out of your room so you could go to bed.

Even though Lindsay had sort of alluded to it, and Ryan acted like he knew something was up, and sometimes Jeremy seemed like he knew something about it that you didn’t, talking to Mica felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Of course, this also meant that Mica tried to “subtly” (read: not subtly at all) push the two of you together every chance she got over the next couple days. Eventually, Blaine got nosy and felt left out so Mica blabbed to him, and then both of them were hounding you.

Trevor, for his part, either didn’t notice or acted like he didn’t notice, because he just carried on like business was usual. He did, however, knock on your door every night to come and chat with you. It quickly fell into a habit – it had only been a few days, so you were hesitant to call it a routine – where the two of you would sit, side-by-side, against your headboard. You would put on something random on Netflix, the laptop sitting in between Trevor’s legs and yours, and in between conversations about things that either (or both) of you liked and stories from your childhoods, you’d lapse into a comfortable silence filled by the show you had picked for the night.

Most of the time, things stayed pretty light, but every once in a while, one of you would ask a more serious, more personal question.

Once, it was you: “Since becoming a vampire, have you ever almost died?”, you had asked, knowing that the answer was yes but being pleasantly surprised when Trevor told you the full story about himself, an angel friend named Steffie (he made a point to emphasize that the two of them were ever only just friends, which you thought the specificity was weird but couldn’t help but also feel relieved about? Which just confirmed that you had caught the Feelings), and the vampire that had turned him. Although you knew what happened – Trevor was sitting next to you, decades later, after all – it still hurt your heart to hear it, and after giving Trevor your sympathy and telling him that you were very happy he was okay and here, today, the two of you lapsed into a very long silence, touching from shoulder to knee.

Another notable time, it was him: “When I stole Jeremy’s book it said something about Marks? But it didn’t go into detail. I’m assuming you have them hidden?”, he had asked, and you had sighed and explained how Marks were both familial ties and visual representations of your life so far. How when fae turn dark and renounce the Seelie Court to become Unseelie fae, they go through a ritual where all of their Mark is sliced open with an iron blade, so that the Marks don’t come back when healed, and that’s why Unseelie have all those scars. How most fae stay in their own communities, away from humanity, because Marks are a special sort of thing, and many faeries don’t believe that non-Seelie fae have the right to bear witness to their most natural form. How no-one that wasn’t fae – besides Trevor the night you had your nightmare Prediction – has ever seen you in your more “normal”, Marked “form.”

You told him how the skin color Trevor saw at that moment was just the one that you picked for yourself, an illusion of your own design, because fae skin is unnaturally colored and sort of gives off a glow (yes, like Tinker Bell), so to blend in with other humanoid species, fae just pick whatever skin color they fancy when they throw up the illusion. Trevor put a hand on your shoulder (the one with the bigass grape leaf that most definitely represented him, of course) and squeezed gently as he told you that he did his best to keep his eyes on your face or away from you entirely that night, after he had pulled you down onto his lap, because he had a feeling that it wasn’t something he was supposed to see without you allowing him to see it.

You wanted to cry at his kindness and consideration for you, and for the first time since you met him, you couldn’t deny the fact that that meant something, that you meant enough to Trevor for him to not want to see your Marks until you showed them to him (even if he wasn’t sure what they were at the time).

Mica was right – this was more than a silly crush.

You were super duper fucked.

#rt reader insert #ragehappy #trevor x reader #trevor c x reader #supernatural au #modern fantasy au #only one more chapter!!!

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autisticteru · 7 years

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A Kick in the Teeth is Good for Some - CHAPTER 5

Summary: All Ritsu wants is to move on and be happy with his life. But something keeps growing inside him. From his stomach to his chest to his throat and out his eyes and mouth, until it fully surrounds him making it impossible to ignore. He can cut it down, but it will just grow back. He needs to destroy it, to pull it up from the roots. And he thinks he finally knows how. But there’s only one person who can help with that. Unfortunately, that person is Teruki Hanazawa.

Read on AO3 HERE

Read from the beginning HERE

Individual chapters:

Fanart for this chapter! (x)

Chapter 5: Hidden

“This spot seems good,” said Teru, standing over the edge of a giant hole that spanned both the roof of the building and the basement floors. The place was certainly familiar to Ritsu. It was where the final battle between the Scars of the Seventh Branch took place, and it was one of several places where Ritsu found himself in yet another near-death experience.

But Teru was right about the place being perfect to train. There was plenty of rubble, pipes, wires, and other stuff to work with. There was also a nice amount of shelter from the weather. And neither of them would have to worry about the consequences of breaking things. Ritsu was starting to get excited.

“Ok,” said Teru, “Here’s the plan. This week we’ll be focusing on the basics. That is, your barrier and your telekenesis. Today I’m going to be testing where your limits and boundaries lie. Afterwards, we’ll work on pushing them to their utmost limits. Of course, we’ll be using the basics all throughout this training, but next week we’ll start on testing what other special abilities you may have.”

“Special abilities?”

“Like how Suzuki can turn invisible and how Shimazaki can teleport. As I’ve gone on to fight others, I’ve manage to pick up an array of different psychic techniques. So far, there have been very few techniques I haven’t been able to figure out through hard work. But it’s different for other people. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, there are things you can’t do. But I’m sure you already know that.”

“You’re referring to my brother.”

“Precisely. If that’s the case, you shouldn’t get hung up over it. There are ways to use your power creatively and effectively to outsmart your opponent.”

“Unless that person is my brother.”

“You aren’t fighting your brother, Ritsu-kun.”

“If you’re going to bring him up you might as well be honest about that, Teru-san.”

“Fine. There are some things that technique can’t accomplish. But even so, your potential is greater than most, Ritsu-kun. So much so, that I think you have a chance at surpassing even me. But you’re a late-bloomer so your powers havent had the time to mature. So I’m not quite sure what powers you have besides the basics. So I’ll show you everything I know. Anyway, somewhere in between drills we’ll make time for lunch.”

“Somewhere in between?”

“We’ll have lunch when we’re hungry! I didn’t plan out everything perfectly. Honestly I wasn’t entirely sure how this would go.”

“How reassuring.”

“Look, I’ve only ever trained with the Awakening Lab kids and myself. They can’t do the things you and I can do. But I’m not entirely sure how different your powers are from mine. So I’m playing it by ear. Today’s gonna be mostly experimental, but it’ll get more routine based later.”

“Alright, I get it.” Ritsu had to admit to himself that he was really getting excited to start. But god forbid he let Teru know that.

“Moving on, at the end of the day we’ll spar and then head back.”

“Won’t I be too exhausted to win by then?”

“You wouldn’t be able to win a spar against me even if you were in top shape, Ritsu-kun. At the end of the day I’ll judge if you’re truly ready to fight Suzuki-kun. Understand?”

Ritsu rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” said Teru. “Then lets get started.”

Teru hopped down into the hole through several stories of broken floors until he reached the deepest part of the crater left by their fight. Ritsu followed shortly after, using his psychic powers to break his fall and land comfortably.

“Okay,” Teru exhaled. “Stand close to the center and show me your full barrier.”

Ritsu did as he was told, exherting his energy to focus on his defense, creating a near transparent bubble around his body.

“Not bad,” said Teru. “We’ll start with an endurance test. I’m going to increase the pressure against your barrier using telekenesis. I’ll start slow and increase it little by little. Keep it up as long as you can.”

“Got it.”

Teru inhaled and reached out his arms in front of him, moving his knees inward into that pigeon-toed stance he always sported while fighting. Ritsu had to wonder how anyone could hold their balance while standing like that, but he wasn’t about to underestimate Teru’s strength. He braced himself.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” instructed Teru.

“I’m ready.”

The ground rumbled and cracked and Ritsu immediately felt immense pressure coming from every direction. It wasn’t enough to break the barrier, but it was enough to make Ritsu work to keep his barrier up. There was a familiar air to the type of technique that Teru was using.

“This is…!”

“That’s right” confirmed Teru. “Gravity control. I learned it a while back, though it was hard to replicate. I still can’t make black holes. But this is less dangerous. When you feel your barrier can’t hold anymore just tell me and I’ll release the pressure.”

It was a fairly reasonable excersise. If Ritsu hadn’t been so bitter about everything that led up that point, he might have expressed a bit more gratitude. The entire building was rumbling and moaning. The atmosphere was perfect.

About two minutes passed. Teru had been slowly increasing the gravity around Ritsu and both boys were starting to sweat. Ritsu was about to collapse, so he looked up at Teru and opened his mouth to speak.

And then Ritsu saw it for the first time. Teru’s mouth was open and slightly moving as though he were muttering something to himself. His eyes were blank, looking at nothing in particular, and yet wide as though he had just seen his worst fear. It was an expression of an indescribable emotion. Blank horror. Though Ritsu could only gaze at it for a second.

Teru’s eyes came back into focus, as if something had startled him, waking him from a trance. His fists clenched tight and he cleched his jaw down and showed his teeth. His eyebrows furrowed up as though he were in fight-or-flight mode. And the gravity increased.

Ritsu’s barrier shattered, but before his body could hit the ground, he felt a force pulling him gently upward until his feet were no longer touching the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” Ritsu looked down at a tense, geuninely shaken up Teru. He gently lowered Ritsu back to the ground.

“I’m really sorry,” Teru apologized again, “I spaced out. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ritsu assured Teru, “I was about to stop it anyway.”

“You aren’t hurt, then?”

“I’m fine.”

Teru took a deep sigh.

“Okay,” he said, back to his original cheerful demeanor, “Take a five minute rest and then we’ll work on your reflexes.”

Ritsu was shocked as to how quickly Teru’s personality could bounce back and forth. He was starting to get the idea that maybe genuine concern for others wasn’t Teru’s strong-suit. Although, really, Ritsu knew he had no room to talk on that regard. There certainly was something familiar about Teru that Ritsu couldn’t quite put his finger on. But he knew one thing for sure.

Teru was hiding something.

As Ritsu leaned up against a part of a wall that remained in tact, he could see Teru with his jacket unzipped. His hand was pulling on the collar of the low-cut shirt he was wearing with a tight grip. Ritsu couldn’t see too well from his angle, but it looked as though he were digging his nails into the center of his breast.

Ritsu didn’t want to stare, but Teru seemed to be so lost in his own world that he didn’t seem to notice. He was moving his lips again. It was so slight, but Ritsu noticed. He wondered what he was saying. It certainly couldn’t have been good, from the expression on his face.

An emotion indescribable.

If only for a moment, Ritsu had to wonder if Teru knew. But the moment passed. There was simply no way. He was too smiley. He was too self-centered. But even with all that said and done, there was no denying that Teru was bothered by something. Ritsu was more than a bit curious, but he didn’t want to be disappointed. Considering Teru, it could be anything.

Ritsu slid down from the wall where he was standing and landed in a sitting position. He was still exhausted, but five minutes was hardly enough for a nap. He closed his eyes and listened to Teru’s footsteps.

Suzuki…

That’s right. That was the reason he was here. As soon as this was over, everything could go back to normal. No more bad feelings getting in the way. That was all Ritsu wanted.

“You ready?”

Ritsu jumped. He could have sworn he heard Teru’s footsteps trail further away from him, but here he was, standing right in front of Ritsu. And he looked cheerier than ever. Too cheery, in fact. Wasn’t he just moping a second ago?

“Uh… yeah, I guess.”

“Good. We’ll be working on telekinesis now.”

#shark writes #A Kick in the Teeth is Good for Some #mp100 fic #riteru

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dorothydelgadillo · 6 years

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The Do’s and Don’ts of Doing "Work Stuff" on the Weekends

I love that feeling when Friday rolls around and the weekend is in sight.

I’m ready to unplug, relax, and recharge. Yet I know, I’ll probably wake up Saturday morning with a clear mind and motivation to finish that blog post I’ve been working on, and I’m sure I’m not alone.

Do you do work “stuff” on the weekends? Do you need to step away from work completely to recharge?

Marcus Sheridan asked a question in IMPACT Elite that really sparked an interesting conversation.

“Question for the group: Do you do "work" stuff on weekends? Personally, I find Saturday mornings are my most productive in terms of inbox zero, brainstorming, planning, etc. I'm sure there isn't a right/wrong approach to weekend work, but I am curious to see what my fellow Elite peeps do, and why it works for you.”

In just the first few days, Marcus’ question got 58 responses! So, we decided to dive in and see what people had to say.

youtube

Finding Fluidity Between Personal and Professional Time

For a lot of people, working weekends simply means work time and personal time are more fluid.

While you may stop working mid-afternoon on a weekday to attend an event at your child’s school, you’ll work for a few hours on a Saturday morning which evens out the time you spend getting work done.

For many members of IMPACT Elite, this is exactly the case.

I’m pretty fluid with my personal vs professional time. Some weekends I find great productivity and some [week] days I’m busy with family activities. Fortunately for me, I truly enjoy my work and the company core values & structure support flexible work hours.

- Dan Moyle, CMO at Interview Valet

Absolutely. Everyone in my house sleeps to ten and I hammer starting at six. This allows me to free up time M-F to leave work for personal business without guilt.

- Daniel J. Sullivan, Executive Recruiter at J. Patrick & Associates, Inc.

Trading a little weekend time for greater flexibility during the week is a way to potentially achieve better work-life balance or harmony.

A Clear Mind and Freedom From Distractions

When you think about your workday, do you think about back-to-back meetings, an inbox full of messages waiting for your response, and barely time to have lunch?

If so, you may find the weekends to be a distraction-free time to catch up. When you’re spared the constant dinging of notifications requesting your attention, it can be much easier to be productive on something you haven’t been able to focus on during the week.

Others use the weekend to do specific types of work. For many, it’s more strategic, creative work.

“Sundays are my jam — no pressure — thoughts are flowing nothing urgent, right until my kids wake up lol”

- Brian Brady, Inbound Marketing Consultant at Bluleadz Inbound Marketing

“Saturdays are a great day to get work done as it’s a day without structure of the work week”!

- Keven Ellison, Director of Marketing at AIS

For others, it’s educational or self-improvement, such as reading a book or catching up on industry trends.

“Weekends are time for family, but I also like to reserve time for personal growth. If there are deadlines or if I’m taking off during the week, then I’ll work ahead on weekends, but it’s rare. Reading and personal growth, im a.ok with, as long as it’s not taking me away from my kiddos.”

- Angela Myrtetus, Principal Strategist at IMPACT

For many, it’s even time to do the part of their jobs they enjoy most.

“Yep. [I] was just watching the Hubcast and have listened to two other HubSpot related podcasts since I left work yesterday. On the weekend, I generally skip the to-do list and deep dive into things I want to do. For instance, I just signed up for SEMrush yesterday so I was looking at results from the initial audit this morning and mulling a plan of attack.” - Frances K Bowman, Content Marketing Strategist at TIC Gums

“I use Saturday mornings to be indulgent with my time. I allow myself to think outside the box, research and actually think about new ideas, catch-up on industry news, etc. Almost all of my good ideas come from my weekend “work” time but it doesn’t feel a lot like work!” - Jennifer Goode, CEO at Enrollment Builders

But that doesn’t mean it working works for everyone.

You May Need to Step Away from Work for the Whole Weekend

While many people find weekends to be productive work time, There are certainly who need to unplug completely to be able to fully recharge and tackle the week ahead.

“I try my absolute hardest not to work on weekends! I usually find myself working late on weekdays. In fact, I very rarely do anything but work then — so Saturdays and Sundays are for me, family, friends, and maybe some side projects. If I really need to get something done, it’s nice to not have the ping of emails or Slack, but it’s a last resort. Need the balance.”

- Ramona Sukhraj, Content Marketing Manager at IMPACT

“Weekends are for my kids and husband. Hands down. That’s exactly why I’m doing this instead of the corporate gig.”

- Casey Johnson Gromer, Founder of Casey Gromer VMO

“Saturday is my day to unplug from work. I need my Saturday morning yoga, Farmers market and whatever else I need to get done. Then on Sunday I'm ready to put a few hours in and I can really be productive. I need that Saturday recharge.”

- Suzanne Bouffard Lopez, Principal / EVP, Client Strategy & Services at DataBranding

Not a bit! Maybe it’s a cliche millennial “work balance” thing, but weekends are my time for the most important things - family, friends, volunteering, and other passions. Maybe it’s the way my brain works, but I need rest from M-F in order to bring my best on Monday morning. - Alexandria Abel, Video Producer at Weidert Group, Inc.

Marcus had a great reply to Alexandria’s comment. He said: “I don't think it's a millennial thing at all actually, Alexandria. I just think we're all different, and find flow and balance in different ways. The main thing is that we're able to find ours-- and not someone else's. Sounds like you've found yours. Have a great weekend!”

Marcus is exactly right. Find what works well for you and stick to it!

It can be tough to stick to your guns when others work differently than you. Fortunately, there are some things you can do to make sure you’re staying true to yourself while enabling others to do the same.

The Do’s and Don’ts of Working on the Weekends

IMPACT’s Chief Strategy Officer, Tom DiScipio, commented on the discussion in Elite saying:

“My first boss who was the owner of small general contracting business told me something I’ve carried with me my entire career. ‘Time off is as important as time on.’ My weekend goals are to disconnect, but like many have said here, if the creativity hits, it’s go time! At the same time I want to make sure I’m available for others on my team that leverage the weekend to get things done.”

Finding the right balance can be tough, especially when you work collaboratively.

Once you find what fits you best, it’s important to communicate with your team to set proper expectations and avoid an unnecessary source of friction with your coworkers.

Here are a few things you should do as well as a few you shouldn’t:

Do Communicate Your Preferences

Do what’s right for you while being transparent and forthcoming with your team.

While knocking out a few blog posts on a Saturday morning may work well for you, this is likely not the case for at least one of your teammates.

By letting your team know what works for you, you’ll set proper expectations and ensure no one feels like they’re leaving you in the lurch.

Do Respect Other Team Members’ Preferences

You may spend Saturdays and Sundays with your family and need to turn off your work phone to truly be present; or maybe you enjoy grabbing a cup of coffee and diving into a blog post or listening to a new podcast episode. Either way, that’s great!

Just remember, this isn’t necessarily the case for some of your coworkers - and that’s okay.

Don’t get mad or frustrated when your team works differently. If you’re flexible with them and vice versa, the team as a whole will be more productive.

That being said...

Don’t Expect an Immediate Response

Once you commit to a work pattern, you cannot expect others to work when and how you do.

If you’re sending a message on the weekend, don’t indicate that you expect an immediate response.

If someone has notifications turned off, never override that and send one anyway.

Don’t Feel Obligated to Do What Others Do

While a lot of people do “work stuff” on the weekends, it can make others, who don’t, feel pressured to follow suit.

Don’t feel obligated to bust out your laptop on those days that start with “S” just because you see others doing it.

Conversely, if you work on the weekends, you may feel pressured or even be told you’re not taking giving your brain enough of a break or spending enough time with your family. You do you!

By knowing when you’re most efficient, you can free up other time (when you wouldn’t be as productive anyway) to do things like take a mental break or spend time with someone in your life.

Do Make the Most of Your Time

Knowing what type of work you do best on weekends will make that distraction-free time even more productive and also prevent you from wasting time during the week trying to move it across the line.

Think of your work habits and use them to consciously organize your workload.

Don’t Forget to Set Boundaries

Consider this story from Peter Caputa, CEO at Databox.

“In my first startup and for the first 6 years (or so) at HubSpot, I worked weekends. I also worked from sun up to sun down for the most part on weekdays. I also commuted 2 hours each way 4 days a week in the early days of HubSpot.

My wife helped me realize that I was missing out on life. So, I pretty much stopped weekend work cold-turkey. It was an important decision. We also moved a lot closer to Cambridge 3 years back. Every time we drive towards our old house, my wife says, "I can't believe you drove almost twice this distance twice per day." I can't either.

Lately, I've been doing a bit of work on the weekends in the mornings or evenings. Not every weekend, but some. Now that I am the boss, I feel the pressure of a lot of people counting on me, so that is part of the reason. Also, I work from home a lot more now which allows me to coach my son's soccer team, help with stuff around the house and have meals with my wife and son. So, opening up the laptop to get organized or get a task done doesn't seem like I'm sacrificing time with them. Also, I have trouble not thinking about work on the weekends. So, sometimes, it's just better to jot something down so I can stop worrying about it.”

Setting boundaries is important.

Working on the weekends can be great for gaining flexibility during the week, getting some distraction-free work done, or growing personally, however, stepping away from work for a bit to recharge is important too, no matter when you do it.

Make sure to set boundaries so you don’t burnout.

Whether you're working for the weekend or getting work done on the weekend, remember to communicate with your team, be respectful of each other, set boundaries, and make the most of your time.

from Web Developers World https://www.impactbnd.com/blog/the-dos-and-donts-of-doing-work-stuff-on-the-weekends

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ruthellisneda · 7 years

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I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

I love working out over my lunch break, and when people hear that’s part of my fitness routine, the questions start coming. “Does your boss care?” “Do you eat lunch?” And the most popular one: “But don’t you get sweaty?” Answers: Not really, heck yeah, and sure, but it’s fine—to which they respond, “I could never do that” with a look of longing envy on their faces.

Look, I get it. There’s a stigma around working out on your lunch break: You’re deemed a health nut or a total slacker. Making time for exercise is challenging enough, let alone figuring out how to squeeze it into the same hour you’re supposed to slam a sandwich while answering email. But the truth is, I’ve found that nobody actually cares about my midday workout, especially if I’m still checking everything off my to-do list.

Working out over lunch has made me a more productive employee, better able to lead my teams, and most of all, less stressed and more committed to exercise as a whole. Here’s my best advice for making lunch break workouts happen:

FIRST THINGS FIRST: START WITH TRANSPARENCY

Before adding noon workouts to my calendar, I brought it up with my boss. Since her leadership style is basically “Do what you gotta do, but be reasonable and get shit done,” I figured she would be open to it, and she was. However, I’m a content manager for health care communications, which means my day-to-day mostly involves meetings, conference calls, and writing or editing on a laptop. In my role, it’s entirely feasible to spend a lunch break outside walking a couple days a week, but not all industries or titles allow for this.

Still, I’ve found that transparency works. I hold time on my calendar every day, versus sneaking in and out of the office around lunchtime. My team knows if I’m not at my desk at noon, I’m likely working out, but we’re in touch constantly, just in case something else more important arises. I’m also verbal about why working out midday benefits me (I’m more focused and relaxed afterward) and the company bottom line (I’m also more engaged and creative). Honesty breeds respect, and most employers know by this point that work wellness matters.

REMEMBER THAT WORK COMES FIRST — ALWAYS

In a perfect world, I’d leave my desk every single day to indulge in a long power yoga class, casually eat a healthy salad, and dive back into tasks refreshed and renewed. But in reality, the noon hour is a choreographed dance to the tune of “I have exactly 60 minutes to get moving and inhale a turkey wrap from home.” And even then, some days I can plan to my heart’s content and not even work out over lunch at all.

I mean, I might aim for a short jog at 11:30 A.M., only to have a team member ask for help with a pressing project. Or my boss says, “Hey, got a minute?” Or a meeting gets rescheduled at the last minute. When those situations arise, I skip the workout and prioritize my actual work. It can be annoying—particularly if I had to sign up for a class in advance or prepay for a workout—but the only way to be smart about lunchtime workouts is to remember they’re a luxury, not a given. I don’t take advantage of this perk.

Furthermore, on the days I do get to work out over lunch, I’m willing to make up the time away from the office wherever necessary. I might stay late, or bring speech drafts home, or wake up super early the next morning to get ahead of time-consuming analytics. Working out should make my work better, not worse, so I do what it takes to balance both. Some might argue this approach leads to a higher quantity of work, but for me it’s a valuable trade-off.

TWO WORDS: DRY SHAMPOO

I’ll cut to the chase. You’re going to sweat. But you have to get over it. I’ve been doing this for nearly two years now, and the whole sweating thing is honestly not that big of a deal.

Maybe it helps that, as a new mom, I worship at the temple of dry shampoo, which allows me to maximize those minutes post-sweat. I do not go the “wash your hair” route at the gym. No, no. I keep a fully stocked gym bag in my car at all times with makeup essentials, face wipes, deodorant, and the wonder that is dry shampoo. Then, if I’m at a gym with a shower, I can rinse off quickly, throw my hair in a low bun, and go. If I don’t have access to a shower, I try to pick a workout that won’t leave me looking like I just strolled out of a swimming pool. For me, the goal is to get some type of physical activity in, not hit my absolute max every time, and return to the office looking somewhat presentable. Trust me, it works—I regularly hear people say, “How do you get ready so fast?” in the locker room.

IT’S BETTER TO BE OVERPREPARED THAN UNDERPREPARED

Two other tips: Always pack a variety of workout clothes to accommodate any type of workout, and bring your bag to work. Every. Single. Day. The former allows you to take full advantage of your window of time, no matter what, instead of cursing yourself for not having the proper gear. Seriously, if I had a dime for every day I planned on not working out, only to realize I did have time, I’d be able to afford a monthly SoulCycle membership. Yes, it’s a slight hassle to remember your stuff every day or schlep it along with you on the train or bus, but being prepared means you won’t miss a golden opportunity to move your body and give your brain a mental break during the day.

NEVER, EVER SKIP LUNCH

It surprises me when people assume I swap food for a workout in the middle of the day. Um, no. Aside from needing, you know, energy and nutrients, I also just really like eating, and I’ve found that brown-bagging my lunch allows me to enjoy it in multiple stages instead of all at once.

Celebrity trainer Erin Oprea tells me she’s also a big fan of packed lunches, especially for anyone trying to work out over lunch. “Packing your lunch allows you to eat a healthy meal that gives your body the nutrients you really need without giving you the heavy feeling you can easily get from eating out. Packing your lunch also gives you more time to get in quick exercise.”

I usually bring something to eat about an hour before lunchtime, like string cheese and veggies, hard-boiled eggs and almonds, or a protein bar. Act two is the main event: the sandwich, salad, bowl of soup, or container of leftovers ingested right when I get back to my desk. Finally, I’m never without a solid snack for the afternoon, such as dark chocolate peanut butter cups and berries, because my metabolism will be up and running after I’ve ducked out for a workout.

By packing my lunch and eating it in stages, it feels like I’m eating more. Which, let’s get real, helps to break up the old 9-to-5 and fuels my workout for optimal results.

THE RESEARCH BACKS IT UP

You’ve probably heard that sitting all day is linked to an increase in undesirable health conditions like heart disease and type 2 diabetes. So all signs points to yes when it comes to getting up throughout the day and moving around. There’s also a towering pile of research pointing to the benefits of midday exercise: Emerging research suggests that it may lead to better job performance,improved stamina, more enthusiasm, and increased creativity.

Plus, exercise reduces stress, which has endless benefits at both work and home—it might help you cope with difficult coworkers, think more strategically, and tackle heavy workloads.

I also find that I work out both harder and smarter (sorry, no Instagram scrolling on the elliptical) due to the shorter time frame of a lunchtime workout—both of which enhance the workout as a whole.

And last but not least, on the days I work out over lunch, I don’t feel the need to guzzle more caffeine at 3 P.M. I can solve problems faster and multitask more efficiently. My eyes don’t ache from staring at a computer screen for eight hours, because I’ve given myself an actual, real break to decompress and come back stronger. Most of all, my patience lasts longer, and I’m much happier—at work and at home later on.

The post I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work appeared first on Under Armour.

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#I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

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neilmillerne · 7 years

Text

I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

FIRST THINGS FIRST: START WITH TRANSPARENCY

REMEMBER THAT WORK COMES FIRST — ALWAYS

TWO WORDS: DRY SHAMPOO

I’ll cut to the chase. You’re going to sweat. But you have to get over it. I’ve been doing this for nearly two years now, and the whole sweating thing is honestly not that big of a deal.

IT’S BETTER TO BE OVERPREPARED THAN UNDERPREPARED

NEVER, EVER SKIP LUNCH

By packing my lunch and eating it in stages, it feels like I’m eating more. Which, let’s get real, helps to break up the old 9-to-5 and fuels my workout for optimal results.

THE RESEARCH BACKS IT UP

Plus, exercise reduces stress, which has endless benefits at both work and home—it might help you cope with difficult coworkers, think more strategically, and tackle heavy workloads.

The post I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work appeared first on Under Armour.

http://ift.tt/2xn3VyG

#I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

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almajonesnjna · 7 years

Text

I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

FIRST THINGS FIRST: START WITH TRANSPARENCY

REMEMBER THAT WORK COMES FIRST — ALWAYS

TWO WORDS: DRY SHAMPOO

I’ll cut to the chase. You’re going to sweat. But you have to get over it. I’ve been doing this for nearly two years now, and the whole sweating thing is honestly not that big of a deal.

IT’S BETTER TO BE OVERPREPARED THAN UNDERPREPARED

NEVER, EVER SKIP LUNCH

By packing my lunch and eating it in stages, it feels like I’m eating more. Which, let’s get real, helps to break up the old 9-to-5 and fuels my workout for optimal results.

THE RESEARCH BACKS IT UP

Plus, exercise reduces stress, which has endless benefits at both work and home—it might help you cope with difficult coworkers, think more strategically, and tackle heavy workloads.

The post I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work appeared first on Under Armour.

http://ift.tt/2xn3VyG

#I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

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johnclapperne · 7 years

Text

I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

FIRST THINGS FIRST: START WITH TRANSPARENCY

REMEMBER THAT WORK COMES FIRST — ALWAYS

TWO WORDS: DRY SHAMPOO

I’ll cut to the chase. You’re going to sweat. But you have to get over it. I’ve been doing this for nearly two years now, and the whole sweating thing is honestly not that big of a deal.

IT’S BETTER TO BE OVERPREPARED THAN UNDERPREPARED

NEVER, EVER SKIP LUNCH

By packing my lunch and eating it in stages, it feels like I’m eating more. Which, let’s get real, helps to break up the old 9-to-5 and fuels my workout for optimal results.

THE RESEARCH BACKS IT UP

Plus, exercise reduces stress, which has endless benefits at both work and home—it might help you cope with difficult coworkers, think more strategically, and tackle heavy workloads.

The post I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work appeared first on Under Armour.

http://ift.tt/2xn3VyG

#I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

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joshuabradleyn · 7 years

Text

I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

FIRST THINGS FIRST: START WITH TRANSPARENCY

REMEMBER THAT WORK COMES FIRST — ALWAYS

TWO WORDS: DRY SHAMPOO

I’ll cut to the chase. You’re going to sweat. But you have to get over it. I’ve been doing this for nearly two years now, and the whole sweating thing is honestly not that big of a deal.

IT’S BETTER TO BE OVERPREPARED THAN UNDERPREPARED

NEVER, EVER SKIP LUNCH

By packing my lunch and eating it in stages, it feels like I’m eating more. Which, let’s get real, helps to break up the old 9-to-5 and fuels my workout for optimal results.

THE RESEARCH BACKS IT UP

Plus, exercise reduces stress, which has endless benefits at both work and home—it might help you cope with difficult coworkers, think more strategically, and tackle heavy workloads.

The post I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work appeared first on Under Armour.

http://ift.tt/2xn3VyG

#I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

0 notes

albertcaldwellne · 7 years

Text

I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

FIRST THINGS FIRST: START WITH TRANSPARENCY

REMEMBER THAT WORK COMES FIRST — ALWAYS

TWO WORDS: DRY SHAMPOO

I’ll cut to the chase. You’re going to sweat. But you have to get over it. I’ve been doing this for nearly two years now, and the whole sweating thing is honestly not that big of a deal.

IT’S BETTER TO BE OVERPREPARED THAN UNDERPREPARED

NEVER, EVER SKIP LUNCH

By packing my lunch and eating it in stages, it feels like I’m eating more. Which, let’s get real, helps to break up the old 9-to-5 and fuels my workout for optimal results.

THE RESEARCH BACKS IT UP

Plus, exercise reduces stress, which has endless benefits at both work and home—it might help you cope with difficult coworkers, think more strategically, and tackle heavy workloads.

The post I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work appeared first on Under Armour.

http://ift.tt/2xn3VyG

#I Actually Work Out on My Lunch Break—Here’s How I Make It Work

0 notes