#i used to get frustrated with it like i had one assignment in elementary where they told us to draw what we saw in our minds eye while

[treecakes]

liked the notes of prev post people wondering how it works to not have pictures in your mind… idk idk it’s normal. i love imagining scenarios but in my head there’s no images i can’t explain how that works. there’s just no pictures it’s like. vague impressions only.

[lonesome-witching]

You're Hot

An anonymously requested enemies (/rivals) to lovers ronance story. This one is also longer than my usual work, but it is quite cliché. I hope you enjoy this one.

Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Nancy Wheeler liked school. She was good at school. It was her talent. She got straight A’s since she was in elementary school. She was the best at school. It was all she had.

At least, she had been the best. Until one Robin Buckley. A girl with hippie parents and a too bright smile. She was annoying. She was worse than annoying. She was smarter. Well, maybe not smarter, but better at school. When Nancy got a 97, Robin got a 98. When Nancy got a 98, Robin got a 99. It was frustrating. Nancy hated Robin. Truly, hated her.

They only shared a couple of classes. History, Chemistry, English. Other than that Nancy was able to avoid her. And she did, most of the time. Their circles didn’t really overlap. Except for one person. Nancy’s ex-boyfriend, Steve. He was surprisingly close with Robin. Apparently, they worked together in the video store in town. They were probably fucking. But that was the least of her worries.

“For this task you will be working in duos. Your parents have been assigned alphabetically.”

Nancy repressed a groan. She preferred to work alone. Most of the students were as incompetent as they come.

“Ricky Adams and Lauren White,” the teacher announced, and a horrible realization dawned on her.

“Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler.” No, no, no, NO!

She looked over at where Robin sat. Those blue eyes already looking back at her. A soft smile on her face. Robin waved. Nancy turned around.

Mere seconds after the bell rang, Robin appeared next to Nancy’s desk. “I was thinking we could go to the library after class. Wednesdays might be best. Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have band practice and Mondays and Fridays you have the paper. But if you prefer the weekend, that’s fine too. I work on Saturdays, but Sundays I’m usually free. I can make time on Saturdays too if that works best for you.”

“I thought it might be best we work on this separately,” Nancy replied with a tightlipped, all too fake smile. She was about ready to choke Robin. She shouldn’t think that.

“Oh.” Robin’s entire stance changed. Her shoulders slumped. “Yeah, sure. That works too.”

-

Nancy Wheeler was a bitch. It wasn’t that Robin hated her or anything. It was just that… Nancy was a bitch. One with a stick up her ass. Prissy and perfect and terribly mean. Robin didn’t like her.

“I’m not even sure what to do. She just won’t talk to me despite us being paired together. You know her, right? Has she always been such a bitch?”

“Nancy is a bit uptight, but she’ll loosen up. She needs some time to get used to people. That’s all,” Steve said, leaning against the counter.

“She won’t even give me a chance.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, please don’t. That would only make things worse. And it’s not like I need her to like me or anything. I just want to do well on this project. I’ll probably be moving before graduation anyway.”

“I don’t know. You’ve been her for over a year now. Maybe this time your parents will stay.”

Robin nodded, but she didn’t believe it. She never stayed. The exact same sob story a bunch of coming-of-age protagonists had. If only she was in one of those movies. Just minus the male love interest, of course.

The only thing that didn’t make her a walking stereotype was her attraction to girls. Girls who looked like Nancy Wheeler. Maybe if Nancy had been just a tad bit nicer, Robin would have a crush on the girl right now. Maybe it was good she was such an asshole.

“And even if your parents want to move, you are nearly 18.”

“And broke.”

“You can live with me.”

Robin smiled at how sincere Steve sounded. He was a surprisingly good friend. The best Robin could ever wish for. Hawkins probably could be worse.

-

Nancy couldn’t do this alone. It was one of the worst realizations she’d ever had. She couldn’t do it alone. She would need Robin’s help. She had reached a new low. She’d already called Steve and begged him for Robin’s number. It would be weird not to call now.

Her eyes were trained on the corner of her notebook where she had scribbled the numbers. They were taunting her. Making her feel inadequate, just like Robin did. She groaned but reached for the phone.

She rolled her shoulders back. “Hi, Robin. I’m sorry for calling so late. I just wanted to ask when you have time to go fuck yourself,” Nancy mumbled to herself.

“Buckley residence, how may I help you?” It didn’t sound like Robin. Her mother maybe.

“Hello, my name is Nancy Wheeler. I’m looking for Robin.”

“Just a moment,” the woman responded. “Robin! For you!”

“If you’re gonna keep calling, my parents will start to think we’re dating,” Robin laughed on the other side of the line.

“I have to say I doubt that.”

“Oh, shit. Nancy? I’m sorry, I thought you were Steve.”

“So, are you saying you aren’t dating Steve?” Nancy asked. She wasn’t sure why she cared.

“We’re not. We’re just friends. Did you think we were dating? Is that why you were— Nevermind.”

“Why I was what?”

“Nothing, why are you calling?”

“It’s about the project. I’ve been working on it and well, I thought maybe we could meet up and discuss it together.” She was ready to hear Robin’s gloating. She could only imagine how awful she’d be if Robin called her like this. God, what was she doing?

“Yeah, sure. When were you thinking?”

“I know, I was the one who— What?”

“I asked when you wanted to meet up? For the project?” Robin sounded confused. Nancy wasn’t sure if it was because of her response or Robin’s own words.

“Oh, yes. What about this Sunday?”

“Alright, where?”

“My place?”

“Okay.”

-

“Your room is very pink,” Robin’s hands were grabbing at Nancy’s stuff.

“I’m sure yours is not.”

“Mine’s white. Boring. I don’t really care for decorating it much. You like Blondie?” She pointed at the Autoamerican poster on the wall.

“Yes, I do,” Nancy replied. She was biting her tongue, literally and figuratively. Why couldn’t they just get the work done so Robin could get the fuck out of here. She’d have to remember to kill Mike for taking the basement.

“And Tom Cruise, huh?”

“Can you please just sit down and work?”

“Ay, ay, captain!” Robin saluted before dropping down on Nancy’s bed next to her.

“Goddamit, Robin! You’re so fucking infuriating.” It slipped out. She just couldn’t help herself.

“Me? I’m sorry to say it, little miss perfect, but you’re the infuriating one. You call me to ask for my help on a project you wanted to do alone and now you can’t even play nice when I show up? That’s just rude.”

“Me? Rude? You are just flaunting. How can you be so fucking arrogant?”

“I’m arrogant? You’re the one who can barely accept help because you’re oh so much better than everyone else.”

“I’m not better than everyone else.”

“I know, but you think you are.”

“I don’t!”

“Really? Because you surely think you are better than me. Where did you get such a superiority complex?”

“You’re unbelievable! You think I have a superiority complex? You’re an asshole.”

“You’re a bitch. I can’t believe Steve ever dated you. Was it just because you’re hot?”

Nancy’s words died in her throat. Robin looked far too smug for someone who had just called her enemy hot. But Nancy could feel her cheeks burning up, so she wasn’t doing much better.

“You think I’m hot?”

“What?” Realization dawned on Robin.

“You said ‘was it just because she’s hot?’ So, does that mean you think I’m hot?”

Robin cleared her throat. “I mean, objectively speaking with the male gaze in our patriarchal society a normal person of the male specimen would probably most likely call you attractive.”

“That barely made sense.”

“I know, I heard it too. What I meant to say was that… Steve thinks you’re hot.”

“Oh, alright. So, the project?”

“The project!”

-

Nancy hated herself. It had been three days since Robin had sort of called her hot. And yet, Nancy had thought of nothing else. She hated Robin, and she knew she hated Robin, but it had still felt special when she had said that. Even if it was in a fit of rage. Maybe that was why she did what she did. Which was walk up to Robin and invite her to her house after school. To finish the project, of course. And hopefully trigger another compliment out of the girl.

It proved to be harder than expected. Because when Nancy wasn’t shouting at her, Robin was polite and quiet and bordering shy, with the occasional ramble on English literature. It was hard to hate her like that.

But if Nancy was to achieve her goal, she would have to dig deep and infuriate Robin. That was how it happened last time.

“You’re such a know it all, with your stupid rambles.” It felt wrong to say that.

“As opposed to you, of course. Little miss I’m so humble.”

“At least I’m not shoving it in people’s faces.” She had to force herself to shout.

“I’m being informative, you just gloat that you know more than other people.”

“Oh, c’mon get more original with your insults, Robin Buckley.”

“What for? You think you’re worth my creativity?”

“Am I not then? Who do you save your creativity for? Steve?”

“I’m not dating Steve.”

“I never said you were.”

“It was implied.”

“It wasn’t,” Nancy shouted. It was. It had been implied even though she knew it wasn’t true. She was just riling her up. It was working too.

“You know damn well it was. I’m not sure what you are trying to achieve with this? You want Steve back? He’s all yours.”

“Sure, because he thinks I’m so hot.”

“You are hot!” Robin shouted back. And there it was. Bullseye.

Nancy wasn’t sure what got into her. Why she didn’t just gloat and have her fun with it. Maybe tease Robin a bit. Why that wasn’t enough? But it wasn’t enough. So, while Robin was still fuming, Nancy leaned in and pressed her lips against Robin’s. It was an impulse decision. Nancy never made impulse decisions. Not until now. Not until Robin.

But now she was kissing this girl. Her lips were soft, softer than any of the guys she had kissed. And she tasted vaguely of cherry. It felt nice. It felt even nicer when Robin’s lips started moving against her own. Softly, slowly, gently. Nancy never wanted to pull away. She liked the feeling of Robin being so close.

It was only a few more moments before Robin pulled back. Flustered and red. She threw her hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she stared at Nancy’s lips.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“You didn’t do anything, Rob. It was all me.”

“Why did you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Alright.” Robin nodded her head.

“But…,” Nancy started, unsure of what to say. But Robin’s head perked up at the word.

“Yes?”

“I guess I would like to do it again.”

“You would?”

Nancy nodded. She would. Her tongue darted out, licking the place Robin’s lips had been mere moments ago. She could almost taste the remnants of the kiss.

Robin leaned in. “I guess we could do it again. If that is what you want.”

Nancy quickly connected their lips. She had hated Robin Buckley. Until she hadn’t. Until she started falling in love.

[theweirdwideweb]

In hindsight after your ADHD diagnosis, were there specific moments or behaviors from your childhood/teenage years that you saw under a new light?

Now I have not been able to get a diagnosis, but I do strongly believe I have ADHD at the very least. I thought it started and got progressively worse when I was in high school, because that's where I noticed that I was struggling. But then later, I brought up the idea to my mom and she was like "no, you've always been like this" what? But I genuinely didn't remember that.

I also found old report cards and progress reports from elementary school that all said some variation of "a pleasure to have in class, but needs to be reminded to focus and stay on task." But I was never tested? Why? I was in IEP and went to special classes weekly and was regularly tested for non-ADHD disabilities (hearing loss), so what would an extra test or two have hurt?

Did you have any moments of realization where you were like "oh, so it was always there?"

I hear you. It's so frustrating to think I could have gotten help as kid, but no one even suggested it. It had never even occurred to me by the time I was diagnosed at 34. If my psychiatrist hadn't suggested it I probably would still be undiagnosed. Looking back, of course there were signs. It's all mixed up with the fact that I was abused as a kid and developed PTSD at about 10, but here are some things that stood out:

Scored in the 99th percentile on all standardized tests, but had average grades. Did not complete assignments. Found I couldn't start my homework at home despite dire consequences from abusive parents.

Feeling developmentally different than my peers. It was like they all got something about friends and social behavior that I just missed and I couldn't figure out what it was. Related much more to adults than children.

Sensory problems. High sensitivity to light, sound, sensations. I would react with extreme anger that upset and confused everyone, myself included.

Physically uncoordinated. Poor balance, using too much or too little strength, dropping things, knocking things over. So much so that my parents had a mean nickname for me about it.

Number lists! For example: I got to school at 8. I would write down all the times between 8 and 5 in five minute intervals on a sheet of paper (9:15, 9:20, 9:25, etc) and cross them off as the time passed. Kept track of reading in a similar way (book, page, goal pages, where I'm supposed to be, difference between page I'm on and page I should be, average pages per day, etc etc etc like 10 columns. Notebooks full of this.

Extreme emotional sensitivity. Prone to depression and angry outbursts.

And so much more I'm assuming. All my parents did was tell me to stop being r*tarded and that I was a bad person. I grew up with a pervasive sense of being "the weird kid". It deeply effected my self esteem. I hope you are able to be tested. Understanding that I had a neurodevelopmental disorder instead of a moral failing and being treated for it with stimulant medication changed my whole life. I wasn't diagnosed until my 30s but thank god I was.

[eradicatetehnormal]

My Conflicting Feelings On Pursuing the Arts

So I was watching a video by Camryn Suzanne entitled "The Arts Are Dying because you find it Trivial." In the video, she talks about the importance of pursuing artistic degrees and pursuing them in general, and how the discouragement of them can lead to half-baked art.

On one hand, I do think that studying the arts does bring you out of your comfort zone and helps you hone your abilities. Even just knowing phrases like "contrapposto" and where they originate can help you become more conscious about what you're doing when you draw or paint and can influence your decisions.

I would never call something like art history or any other type of art degree "useless" because it's basically just another way to study human culture and trains of thought. At the same time though, that's when you pursue higher or advanced art. When it comes to art in elementary through high school, I'm not sure if it's as useful.

Exposure is important, sure, in the video that inspired me to make this post, Tupac Shakur stated that if he had never gone to a school for the arts as a kid, he'd be a completely different person, and I believe him, but he went to the Baltimore School for the Arts, a school tailored to educating people on artistic pursuits. How valuable is the average art class in the average public school?

I enjoyed those classes because I wanted to be an artist, but the regular student? They didn't really care. They used art class as a means to slack off and get an A for participation. To me, that's a waste of time. Why even have the class if no one is learning anything? Artistic kids were going to go home and spend downtime in class making art anyway. The most I've learned from a basic art class is the primary colors, which later got shat on by the time I took community college and was told "Actually the primary colors are cyan, magenta, and yellow" (Or rather, that mixing those colors was the trick to making more vibrant mixes) and that Beethoven was deaf and used vibrations to make music.

Usually, those art classes consisted of of moments where I would ask my middle school teacher teacher multiple times would I could do to make the shading better on a drawing, to which she'd say "Add more detail" leading me to give up and turn in a drawing I thought was just okay. It also led to moments like in elementary school where for music class, all we would do is watch the Pentatonix Wizard of Oz video, every class, over, and over, and over, and over, and...

Even the research brought up in Camryn's video mostly talked about after-school art programs such as dance, and how that can help children socialize, but general art classes? They're good if they're specific and give you a goal to work towards. I took a multimedia class in high school and wanted to become a graphic designer because of that. I was even able to get Photoshop and Premiere Pro certifications, but most classes don't do that until college, and if they do, they'll give you an A for just doing the assignment.

Then there's also the conversation of whether or not you even need a degree to make competent art or pursue it as a career. Camryn, in her video, said no, and I agree. There are plenty of people who work as graphic designers and character designers who never even got associates, but she also used "honing your craft" as a reason why you should pursue higher education in art.

Someone in the comments said that uneducated artists lead to half-baked art, and I simply don't agree with that sentiment. There are two sides to a coin when studying art in college. On one hand, yes, it can help you get better, broaden your taste, make you more aware of various artists and styles, and make you more of a conscious artist.

At the same time though, pursuing art and being forced to take classes for something you don't even want to do can burn you out quickly and frustrate you, if you feel like you're not getting better in the area that matters most to you. That's what happened to me. I took a 3d art class. I loved the teacher and I loved the environment, but I hated going in the mornings, and I didn't exactly love doing the assignments, because while they were cool on paper, they took time away from what I really wanted to do, draw and make graphic art. That was frustrating, because I wasn't doing the stuff I wanted to do, and even now, I don't think I improved at graphic art from the time I was a senior in highschool.

Logo and informational page I made in highschool:

Logo and business card I made for college:

(Sorry for the jumps in quality, I had to screenshot my college stuff)

Camryn also brought this up briefly, but to me, the killer of art isn't the lack of education. In her own video, she brought up legendary singer Aretha Franklin. Someone who was in the choir for her church but had no actual "former training." It's almost as if, all some of us really need to hone our craft, is to be around the right people, and to have the right amount of free time...The killer of art isn't the lack of education, it's the lack of time. It's capitalism. I can't in good conscience say that anyone should study to become an artist because right now, things are questionable. People, even A-list singers, actors, and producers, often report not being properly compensated. There's this whole bullshit with AI, where even if people do wise up to how dogshit it is, it might take years for people to reach that conclusion and for its effects to be undone.

The best I can recommend is for someone to do what they can in their free time and work on getting better equipment. Find communities that have people who are willing to get involved in what you're working on. If you're seeing this post, you have the internet. Use it to your advantage, and watch a bunch of YouTube tutorials, to hone your craft that way. You might actually be better off doing stuff like this. 100-1000$ dollars sucks, but it's not 50,000$ student that you won't be able to pay off working as a graphic designer for Apple.

[rbaksa]

Readerly Response #3

Due Date of Assigned Readings: Monday, September 25

Title of Assigned Course Reading: “Defining Balance, Finding Balance” (Chapter 1) 

Big Takeaway: Literacy teachers should provide students with a balance of phonics practice and interaction with authentic texts, narrative and informational texts, opportunities to read, write, speak, and listen to language, and direct and dialogic (interactive) instruction. 

Nugget: The idea of having balanced reading and writing instruction stood out after reading this chapter. In the first-grade classroom I am in now, students receive very few opportunities to write each day. Students copy two or three sentences the teacher writes on the board and formulate only one independently. My mentor teacher says she wishes there was more time for writing practice, but it is not a part of the curriculum. I would love to incorporate the dialogic instruction this chapter discussed. This instruction would take the form of small groups, where I scaffold learners while they build sentences. This task is challenging for many students in the class, and I learned after reading this chapter that addressing writing to an equal extent as reading would enable them to become more proficient in both skills. 

Title of assigned course reading: “Independent Reading” (Chapter 7) 

Big Takeaway: Independent reading is essential for students to practice readerly habits; therefore, teachers should support students by providing various genres, teaching students how to choose texts, and monitoring their reading strategies. 

Nugget: I had not heard of “book talks” before, but I would love to incorporate them in my classroom. By leading a book talk, students have the potential to demonstrate essential literacy skills, such as retelling a story and making text-to-self connections. When students recommend a book to the class, they also practice using details from the story to support an opinion. The chapter discussed a teacher who did this in her first-grade classroom, and I think this is an ideal age for students to begin book talks. I believe students will be motivated to read and share their opinions when they see their peers doing so. The result will be a classroom community that loves and shares books, which is what I would like for my classroom. 

Readerly Exploration Task: Since I was home the weekend I did this readerly exploration, I interviewed a family member. I chose my sister Grace because she does not like reading, and hearing her thoughts about balanced literacy seemed interesting. First, I selected two quotes to share with her. One was from chapter one, which discussed the importance of incorporating direct instruction and productive struggle. The second was an excerpt from chapter seven explaining how to use books in thematic inquiry projects. I assumed it would be difficult for my sister to talk about reading because she does not like it, but I was very wrong. My sister had many opinions about these quotes that she was excited to share. 

In my sister’s twelfth-grade English class, students can complete a review packet about Lord of the Flies in small groups or independently. Grace says she always works alone because she “just wants to get it done.” She acknowledges that literacy classrooms need more “balance” (and I was very excited that she used this word because I had not explained balanced literacy to her). Grace says she does not mind direct instruction when a teacher is passionate about a book. However, she also admits this can get “boring” after a while, demonstrating the need for more exploration-driven tasks. When the conversation turned to whether students should be able to choose the books used in elementary literacy instruction, Grace became even more engaged in conversation. She expressed frustration about how her elementary reading classes were structured, with slower readers placed in lower groups. Grace always felt like teachers rushed her to finish a book without granting enough time for her to understand and interact with the material.

This conversation reinforces the importance of having a balanced literacy approach. By incorporating direct and task-based learning, students feel constantly engaged with literacy. They do not grow bored, which is essential because this boredom can lead to resentment towards the subject. I realized students need to have a say in what books they read, especially at the elementary level. Chapter seven talks about the importance of allowing students to choose what they read, and my sister demonstrates what can happen if students do not have this option. She often mentioned that she was “never much of a reader” but admitted that this may not be true if she had the freedom to choose what she read in elementary grades. Structuring literacy class to incorporate an inquiry project, where students can choose what they read to answer a question they created, is one way to enable students to spend more time with interesting materials and think critically about their interests. My sister said she wished she had projects such as these when she was in elementary school.

Multimedia Documentation:

This is a picture of my sister and I after our interview. She provided me with much insight about how a balanced literacy approach may benefit students who do not consider themselves to be readers in the way I do.

[cuchillx]

When I was about 12 years old I had no friends, we had moved so the public junior high school that was around my area was a different one than my friends from elementary school went to. I was very lonely during those formative years, and I couldn’t fit with the people from my new school. My parents were too busy for me, so that’s how I ended up being chronically online at that young age - i would be in neopets, watching anime and just browsing the net. Additionally I drew a lot, every day, about everything I could think of.

Under the read more you’ll find a long story on my experience with horse riding. It has a sad ending, but it doesn’t involve any graphic details or narrations of any animal dying.

Somehow I convinced my parents to take me to horse riding classes, i was quite expensive so I’m surprised they accepted eventually. During the first days, you got to learn the basics of course, and you would get to ride different horses from the ranch to see which one you would be a good fit with. There were so many beautiful horses, tall and slim, some big strong ones, with pretty colors, warm chocolate tones, or white ones that looked out of a fairytale. I practiced with all of them and I thought it went fairly well

The trainer was this strict, strong-willed mayan man. He had many children and lived in the ranch in exchange for teaching people how to ride horses. The owner of said ranch was a rich lady.

One day, I was assigned this short legged horse with an opaque sand color on his hair and short fur. He didn’t look very graceful, and he was stubborn too. No one that took lessons there rode him, not even the owner of the ranch. The only one who did so was the trainer, as he had several years of experience with horses and he knew how to handle them well.

The horse’s name was Eddy, since he had an ‘ED’ imprinted on him, from a previous ranch he was in. I remember Eddy being the most difficult horse to ride - stubborn and mischievous, purposely trying to get me to fall from the saddle, ignoring my instructions and always pulling me. I am stubborn myself so I didn’t let me that bring me down, I would get up every time he sent me flying, or holding on as hard as I could with my legs to avoid falling. The instructor yelled at us several times and I felt the need to prove myself, trying to make Eddy’s character and my disposition work

At the end of the lesson the trainer told me Eddy would be my horse - I was so disappointed and annoyed, I didn’t like Eddy at all. I thought it was unfair. The rest of the people that trained there had beautiful horses assigned and I was stuck with Eddy

I didn’t complain though. I accepted it and tried to move on. As time passed I became really good at that sport. And since I went really early in the mornings (because school was in the afternoons), only sometimes my parents would watch me train, since most times they would nap in the car or do other things while they waited for me

The trainer was very loud and wouldn’t hold back when he scolded at me, he would always yell at me what I could do better while I was jumping obstacles and galloping with Eddy. He was that way with other girls too, but ultimately held back since they would show a lot of distress. It was completely fair, as I’ve practiced other sports where I wasn’t great and of course having the instructor yell at you felt awful - I can remember crying on different occasions. The horse trainer was definitely coarse, but somehow when I was practicing, it didn’t affect me as much as it did in other sports - I tried really hard to be better every day, I had so much frustration bottled up from my loneliness and bullying from school that I really trained until exhaustion. My trainer in spite of being very strict praised me a lot because of my grit and perseverance

Eddy was still this trickster stubborn little rascal, but it was now fun for both of us. I always gave him apples and cereals at the end of each session, and if I had time I made sure to brush him and walk him around the garden where he would eat grass and unwind. He would now push me around and ignore my instructions but followed by a humorous neigh. I would laugh too, and always tried again and again. Eddy and training were a source of happiness, I would sometimes get there feeling crappy about life but it was like Eddy could feel that and he was extra quirky and energetic, eventually raising my mood too.

We even participated a couple of times on contests, the first one I got so nervous I did a terrible  job - the order of the obstacles I was supposed to go through got mixed up in my mind and I didn’t do it correctly, leading to me being so stressed that I fell from Eddy. I cried angry tears and accepted that I was disqualified

The second time went way better, and we won second place. I even have the bow we won, and I was so proud of us. I don’t have any photos from that time, since unfortunately as I mentioned, my parents didn’t always have the energy to be there for me, and the few photos we had were on my dad’s phone that he lost. Those times however, live forever in my memory

One time we were trying a certain routine, and Eddy tripped - often times horses trip while you’re galloping, but it’s completely normal and you get used to this. They have 4 legs so if one trips they have 3 other legs to recover, not like us clumsy humans. I remember the first times it happened I would halt completely out of fear, but later on it was nothing to me

But this time it was different unfortunately, and I felt it right away - after one leg tripped I then felt a second leg trip as well, and right there I knew in a matter of seconds something was off. With the second leg came the third and finally we both fell. This is very dangerous because if the horse rolls on top of you you can die. Fortunately Eddy fell and because of the speed we had I was shot across the track and rolled and rolled until I came to a stop, covered in dust and sand. Everyone that was there expressed that once Eddy got back up on his hooves, he looked so worried and concerned trying to find me, his little human. Once he quickly spotted me, he galloped towards me and started sniffing me and pacing back and forth. I stayed on the ground for a while because I was very dizzy from spinning and confused overall

The trainer and my parents rushed towards me and got me on my feet slowly, trying to make sure nothing was broken. To their relief, it was that way and it was only a scare. They took me to the doctor just to make sure, and I was fine. They still took an X-ray of my spine, and that’s how I was diagnosed with scoliosis. Doctors said I would have to stop ridding horses since it was damaging my already crooked spine. I had to say goodbye to horse riding, my trainer and Eddy.

I don’t remember doing much of a fuss then, I think I was so sad I was completely numb, scared to face that one of my few sources of happiness would end like that, when I most needed it. This whole experience lasted about a year. Since I was avoidant of the feeling, I don’t think I gave a proper goodbye to Eddy, I tried to forget all about it and move forward. I had no one to talk to about how I felt.

I am now 25, and I feel so much nostalgia from thinking about this. I hope Eddy is ok, wherever he is. I hope that if he’s not alive, he’s happy in horse heaven with lots of grass, apples and fresh water. I hope he’s out there making his silly little pranks and being stubborn, just as I am. I know why we were paired up together, and I can’t be happier about it. I’m glad I got a chance to see beyond what others saw in him, and that I held on tight just to prove a point about myself, but I ended up finding so much more on the other side of things. And I feel very special that he also chose me too - no one got along with him like I did

Eddy thank you for being my friend, I needed someone like you and if I could, I would forget about the pain from not being able to do what I loved, and visited you every now and then to feed you, wash you and take you out for a walk. You are immortalized in my memories and you are forever my favorite horse.

[maneaterluvr101]

FRANCIS FOREVER| PT.1

ART DONALDSON X READER

SYNOPSIS: In which Evelyn has idolised Art from the moment they first met, from his dirt blonde hair to his devotion to tennis, to the way he looks at her. Until the great tennis player, Tashi Duncans, catches the attention of her best friends, Patrick and Art. And as Tashi integrates into their once trio, she realises that her devotion has slowly turned into infatuation throughout the years.

WARNING: CHALLENGERS SPOILER, mature language, sexual themes, angst, slow burn, series.

Word Count: 3.4k

“Dr.Auclair?” The hostess confirming as she scanned the reservations list before looking up, the woman in front of her gave a nod.

She gave a polite smile before leading Evelyn to her seat with a light blush painted on her cheeks, dumbfounded by her looks.

Her heels clicked against the tile floor of the restaurant she had reserved at. Though busy, it felt as though the customers and worker’s eyes were on Evelyn the moment she entered the building.

Tuesdays night lights glimmered in dimly lit restaurant as her waitress led her to her seat with a calming view of the city, thanking her with a soft but genuine smile as she took her seat before looking down on her attire for the evening.

Evelyns day-to-day scrubs were no where to be seen, replaced with a simple but chic outfit that still hugged her body to perfection. And though she looked stunning and composed, her palms were sweaty and she felt like her heart was having palpitations as her pointer finger tapped the wooden table with a certain rhythm.

Anxious wouldn’t begin to describe how nervous she was to talk to the man she still thought about even after a decade of no communication.

STANFORD UNIVERSITY, 13 YEARS AGO.

“But Professor, you were the one who specifically instructed us to quote this extract when we’re faced with this question!” Evelyn spat as her manicured finger pointed to her script on the psychology lecturers desk.

To say that she was furious would be an understatement. For most of Evelyns life, academics had been the primary part of her existence. Never getting anything lower than an A was something she will forever pride herself in.

Until now.

As she faces her psychology professor with her brows furrowed in confusion and jaw clenched. Between the two was her first major psychology test of the semester with a large B written on it.

Professor Lynn slowly shaking his head as he pursed his lips. “There’s nothing I can do for you, Evelyn, the marking system has changed from the past few years,” he stated, as he tried to keep his composure.

Professor Lynn wasn’t unfamiliar of the infamous Evelyn Auclair. Every one of teachers had at least one story to tell about her. Like how she sat by Mrs Jackson table for 4 hours in a silent protest to change the book that they were assigned to read, as she said “This book is too elementary for the amount of money my parents pay for me to be here. Point blank.”

Whether good or bad, you’ve heard of Evelyn Auclair at least once.

Evelyn stays silent for what seems like forever as she tries her best not to curse him out, ‘He’s just trying to do his job, Eve. This isn’t personal and you shouldn’t raise your voice like that. It’s been 30 minutes since class has been over and your next class starts in 15. Come up with a solution quick,’

She thought to herself as she tapped her manicured pointer finger on his desk.

She nods her head slowly as she straightens her back, purposely connecting her eyes with his as she plastered a fake closed mouth smile.

“I'm sorry for lashing out on you like that. It was disrespectful and completely unnecessary, but please take into consideration the hard work i put into learning everything that you’ve taught us in psych and understand my frustration when the first B-” she pauses as she realizes her voice was getting louder.

Taking a deep breath in and releasing the air she continues, “when the first B I have ever gotten is a major exam which counts 45% of this semester mark” she finishes calmly.

They both stay silent for a moment, Professor Lynn trying to maintain the eye contact with Evelyn, to only look away after a moment of Evelyn intimidating eye contact.

With tension so thick you can cut it with a knife, Professor Lynn hesitantly nods his head as he lets out a sigh of exhaustion. “Okay, I'll recheck your paper, when I have the time to do so. How does that sound” he suggested weakly as he was convinced and mostly tired realizing that he had just spent 30 minutes arguing with Evelyn, ‘Who still looks like she can go for another 1 hour or two.’ Professor Lynn thought to himself

She paused for a moment, as she furrowed her brows and bit her bottom lip pretending to be deep in thought, when in actuality she knew this was the best she could get.

Finally, Evelyn nods with a neutral face, “Thank you, sir. I’ll take my leave now, enjoy the rest of your day” she offers him a soft genuine smile which he returns with a tired one.

And as she picks her bag up from the desk. She reaches for her phone in her front pocket, checking the time.

“Shit." she murmured as she practically ran out of class, she had 8 minutes left to reach her next class, which was Chem, on time.

As she sped walked through the practically empty corridors, she grabbed her phone once more to call one of her friends who shares the same classes as her, Amira.

‘Hopefully she can save me a seat in the first rows, I’m not sitting anywhere near the back. All the frat-’ Her thoughts interrupted as she bumped into someone. Almost dropping her phone in the process

“So-”

Ah.

And as she raised her head from her phone to utter out an apology, her brown eyes connected with hooded blue ones for just a moment before they looked away. It felt like, for a moment, everything had slowed down as she surveyed his appearance, taking notice of how he looked. He had almost mouse-like features, his well-kept eyebrows furrowed as he looked ahead jaw clenched. He had to be standing at, what seemed like at least 5'11 as he walked past not once looking back at her.

Finally snapping out her trance, Evelyn quickly realizing that she still hadn’t issued out her apology, "Sorry!", cringing at how loud she had sounded for some boy who didn't seem phased by the fact that she had bumped into him.

She stood there staring at the back of his form as it disappeared, fascinated by his aura, which has never happened. Most of her friends gush over boys, spewing all about how attractive they were just by how they carried themselves. Evelyn never truly understood what her friends meant by this, until now.

Almost as though she set a reminder for herself, her phone blared. Amira, read on the screen with a large print as clicked on the green button to answer.

“where are you? Class is about to start in 4 minutes,” an angry whisper inquired on the other line. Her and Evelyn had a few things in common, being punctual was one of them.

“Uh, yeah. Im almost there. Save me a seat?” she stuttered out as she began her speed walk to her next class.

It had been almost 2 weeks since the bump in with the stranger and Evelyn still thought about him.

And the more she thought about him, the more she seemed to look for him everyday. It also didn’t help that Amira had no idea who she was talking about as she stated, “Please, with the description that you gave me you just described 90% of the white boys in Stanford.”

So for now, Evelyn unconsciously settled on looking at every blonde curly head, her heart stammering hoping to find him only to be met with disappointment each time.

“Eve, you have got to join some sort of sport. You cant be waking up and breathing books every chance you get.” Amira currently tried to reason with her friend, as they sat in the cafeteria.

Evelyn shook her head as she scrunched up her face in confusion, “Why? It’ll just drain me as if Im not a premed student who isn’t already stressed by the shit ton of modules and tests i have this semester. Plus I’m a first year, i need to make this year count.” She stated before taking a bite of her apple.

The brown girl quick to respond, “That’s what Im saying! It’s your first year in college and all you can think about is books? C’mon, if not partying at least have yourself a hobby,” and before Evelyn could respond, Amira quickly shut it down. “And reading old literature doesn’t count as hobby.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes as she sighed.

“Right. Tell that to the book club which I was the president of in 10th Grade” she defended playfully with a grin.

“Im serious, Eve! I want you to enjoy your years in college.” Amira lectured as she stared at the girl whose only personality were her grades and fighting teachers because of her grades.

Evelyn sighing once more before forcing a small smile on her face, “I’ll look into some sports that don’t include ice, grass, water or having to grind or push up on anybody. How’s that?”

“Sounds like you crossed out 80% of sports by that list alone, but I’ll take what I can get.” Amira pointed out as she smiled at Eve, her eyes widened as she had an idea,

“There’s a match on Wednesday. Mens tennis with Fire and Ice playing, maybe you can accompany me?” suggested Amira with a wide smile.

And to quickly end this tedious topic of sports, Evelyn answered with a nod before changing the subject.

Wednesday had came too quickly for Evelyns liking as Amira dragged her to the tennis courts.

“This is going to be so fun! Aren’t you excited? I’m excited. Your first sports match that you’ve watched in college!” Amira babbled on as she walked past seated people, muttering out ‘excuse me’s’ between every 3rd to 4th word she said before finally sitting down in the 2nd row of bleachers right in the middle, Evelyn following suit.

“Im literally shaking out of excitement.” Evelyn narrated with faux enthusiasm as she lifted her hand towards Amira’s vision making sure her hand stood completely still.

Amira slapped her hand away making Evelyn giggle, rolling her eyes Amira was about to lecture Evelyn before her eyes caught onto the 2 boys on the court. “There they are, Fire and Ice.” Amiras manicured finger pointing to the two on the court.

And as Evelyn turned her head towards the court, her heart dropped as she realised who was on the court. Her stomach twisting as the mystery boy she had been looking for for the past two weeks had finally been found, She didn’t even know how to explain the emotions she felt when she stared at the dirt blonde who seemed to be in his own world as he stretched with his partner.

Her face must’ve given it away as she felt her friend nudge her slightly, “Theyre hot right? The brunette is Patrick Zweig, he doesn’t go to school here but he’s like really talented when it comes to tennis. he actually doesn’t go to school at all right now just doing him, i guess. I’d like to do him too but we can’t always get what we want. Then we have the blonde one,” Amira points towards him, glancing at Evelyn amused by how she seemed so invested in what Amira was saying, she leans towards Evelyn, “he’s Art Donaldson, he studies here at Stanford and is a year above us. Not sure in what he studies though, he’s got talent but not as comparable to Patricks. I feel like, and this is just my opinion, Art doesn’t really think that much of tennis as much as Patrick does. And-oh the match is starting.” Amira quick to shut her mouth as she watched the double match begin.

And as Patrick hit the first serve, Evelyn fell in love. Watching as the ball went back and forth between the two pairs, her lingering on Patrick and Art each time that hit the ball back. With each grunt and whimper that came with each stroke, the determination to win as both team’s faces are scrunched up with concentration. Evelyn cant help but lean forward as the direction of her head travelled with the ball.

And as this game played in front of her she couldn’t help but feel at peace though her palms sweated for the so called, “Fire and Ice” duo to win.

This was one of the reasons why she hated sports, it was simply unpredictable. It could reward you or leave you high or dry if it truly wanted to. Sports needed a certain type of trust from the viewers to the players, creating this bond that resembled a relationship between the viewer and the supporting team. And this match made her realise how right she was, but how oh so wrong she was to believe it was a bad to feel this way.

Her heart stammers as they were on the last set, the whole court quietly watching. And as Art served the last winning hit, Evelyn could help but stand up. “Let’s Go!” She screamed, her always composed self nowhere to be found, as some of the crowd also stood clapping.

And as she clapped she could’ve sworn she made eye contact with Art from across the court but that thought was interrupted as she felt Amira stand next pushing her playfully, “I’ve never seen you jump and scream like that before. Not even when you got first place in the Science Olympiad, looks like we’ve found your sport.” Amira teased with a grin. Evelyn smiling back at Amira as she felt light from the win of the game.

“We’ve definitely found my sport.”

Tennis was a shit sport.

Well thats what Evelyn thought everytime she couldn’t hit an ace or tripped on herself chasing the ball when she’d play with Amira. She hated not understanding something at the first try, so you can imagine her disdain when her first try turns into 4th, 4th turns into 10th and she still stumbling and missing the ball. Though she studied every video on the internet with famous tennis players and listened to each video on tennis terms for the past week, it felt like she knew nothing when she reached the court. But one thing that’ll forever remain true about Evelyn Auclair’s character was that she was no quitter.

She proved this point,as she walked inside the indoor tennis court with long strides in her tank top and tennis shorts reading the text from Amira stating that she’ll be running late. ‘When has she ever been on time?’ Evelyn questioned walking to their usual court, about to place her bag on one of the benches between the courts. And as she lifted up her head from her phone her movement came to a halt as she made eye contact with the match in front of her.

Art.

Her eyes landing on the dirt-blonde, her stomach immediately erupting with butterflies as she watched the match between him and Patrick. Though she had expected to see them here practicing sooner or later, she still felt shocked to see them. She stood in the middle of the courts bag still attached to her back completely forgetting about it, just observing the game in front of her.

Today’s practice courts were coincidentally empty , only housing the three and nobody else. So the only sounds heard where the two boys’ grunts and the ‘thwack!’ of the ball as it makes contact with the rackets.

And as the ball was passed between the two white boys, she noticed how precise Patricks serves were compared to Arts. Delivering accurate hits each time that had no clear formula to study but was simply driven by the determination to win at all cost necessary. She had also realized that she had walked in on their last set as Patrick delivered a perfect backhand that Art missed, crowning Patrick as the winner of the match.

Though Patrick won, Evelyn couldn’t help that her eyes were glued on Art after the game. How out of breathe he seemed to be and though he lost he still playfully smirked at Patrick as he walked towards him, his sweat glistening on his skin in the brightly lit court,his tongue darting to moisture his lips.

His eyes focused on Patrick who greeted him with a sly smile as he pulled Arts arm towards him, creating little distance between themselves, wiping Arts face as he began saying something that Evelyn couldn’t quite catch before lightly tapping Arts face. As he took a few slow steps backwards creating distance between themselves grinning ear to ear before turning completely around walking off the court and seemingly towards Evelyn direction.

Evelyns hands sweaty as she watches Art following behind Patrick rolling his eyes, saying something she still couldn’t decipher with a smug grin. Walking closer, Evelyn realising that they were literally walking directly towards her. She looked around for Amira as she was still nowhere to be found, only making eye contact with the bags that were placed messily on a bench near her.

Oh

She stood right next to their bags so obviously they’d be heading in her direction. She internally rolled her eyes as she thought of how delusional she was for almost thinking that they were coming to her. Evelyn stood and watched them walk past her to their bags paying her no mind as they continued to chat amongst themselves.

“Cmon Art, that backhand serve was cinematic, admit it!” boasted Patrick as he shoved his items into his bag, Art doing the same with a ghost smile while listen to the brunette ramble on about their match.

And as Art picked up his bag, he locked eyes with Evelyn, maintaining eye contact for a moment before politely smiles at her.

And even though it was just a smile that had no real intentions behind it, at that moment Evelyn experienced feelings she felt the first time she had watched them play. The indescribable emotions she felt that day came rushing back.

Evelyn smiles back almost immediately, her dimple making an appearance, clutching the strap of her bag.

“You were amazing,” she blurts out catching the attention of both boys, she internally cringes at how direct and poorly she worded that,straightening her back as she corrects herself. “in the game that you just played obviously. And last week’s double match. You both were.” She states darting her eyes to Patrick for just a moment before her eyes went back to Art as she couldn’t seem to keep them from the dirt blonde.

Smiling softly Art utters out a thank you about to say something else interrupted by Patrick wrapping his arm around Arts shoulder with a cocked head and toothy grin.

“You’re too kind. i actually thought this game was horrible. In particular, this asshole was half assing it the whole game” Art just rolls his eyes, shoving him off him. Patrick paying him no mind as he placed his hand on his chest with the same grin,“Im Patrick.” introducing himself even though he knew that she was aware of who they were by the glint in her eyes. “And this is Art.” he stated, pointing to his best friend.

“I saw you last week at our game. You were the one who screamed ‘Lets Go!’ right?” Patrick questioned as he stared with amusement at Evelyn, who nodded with an embarrassed smile on her face. “Never heard anyone shout like that at any of our games.” Patrick stated,smiling he continues, “I didn’t catch your name by the way.”

And with a small smile and a heated face, she softly introduced herself,

“Evelyn.”

CURRENTLY,

“Evelyn?”

Evelyns head slowly lifted up to the source of her name, to be met with the same hooded blue eyes she fell in loved with.

taglist: @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @killjoycrashkitty @ms-longbeach @literarydesire @n-slayaaaaa @jesuistrestriste @theitgirlnetwork @gcfshyegi @londonnnnnnnnnn @lietomevpr @saintwrld @bambisbamboo404

[moonlight-birdsong-and-rain]

6:59pm - 2023/2/14

I just got out of my physics lab, I'm waiting for an Uber to eventually pick me up and take me across campus for dinner. I'm hungry and tired. It feels like I have lots to do and no time to do it in. I have a research assignment due tonight that I haven't started, and it feels like I don't understand anything. I get lost and confused and don't start things because I'm stuck, but then I never learn because I don't even know how to try. I never ask questions because I don't know enough to even know how to ask or what to ask or who to ask.

Sigh.

It's been really cold today, and windy which only makes it colder. While waiting for a bus, the only word that came to mind was "bitter". It must have snowed last night, everything had an inch of snow on it this morning when I went out.

I didn't see any birds this morning, but I saw 4 deer lying under a tree in a median in the middle of a large road south of campus. It's always interesting to see deer in places that seem so far from their home in the mountains. How did they get there? Are they afraid? Or do they not care at all? I've seen some large groups of deer in the middle of campus that seem not to care, they aren't afraid of people or cars, they just lie under the trees and look around or sleep. Or maybe that's a sign of fear. That's what I do when I'm scared. I sit quietly and I watch, without moving a muscle or making a sound.

I'm breathing deeply to try and calm down, get myself into a positive headspace. I always get down on Tuesdays since they're so busy and my lab goes so late into the night. Lots of good things happened today, but everything is overshadowed by exhaustion and frustration by the end of the day, which is unfortunate. I'm going to try to find things to be happy about instead of things to be tired about.

I played pretty well in band today, I feel like my tone is improving and my breath support is getting back to where it's used to. I was less anxious while playing and had a lot better time. I really like all the pieces we're playing.

7:09pm

I'm in my Uber now, it's a mini-van that makes me feel like I'm in elementary school again. I feel like I've really been reaching back to my childhood since starting college. All the shows I most enjoy watching these days are the ones I watched when I was a kid. Scooby Doo, Pokemon, avatar the last Airbender, etc. I can't tell if they're really as good as I think they are, or if nostalgia is just clouding my view.

I'm definitely feeling a lot of wanting to go back to my childhood, to experience that sort of carefree happiness again, to be innocent and joyful again. I miss the feeling of elementary school, I miss the smells and lighting of the school building. I miss the assignments and fun days and games at recess. I miss the happy decorations. It feels like life had more meaning to it back then, because I wasn't feeling so much pressure to create meaning out of my life.

It feels like I have to make myself into the person I'm going to be, like I have to construct this future that I can't even imagine. Honestly, I don't want to work any of the jobs I know about right now. I'm tired, I want to enjoy life rather than work myself to death through it. I don't want to spend my life maximizing productivity and minimizing happiness and enjoyment.

7:22pm

I'm in the dining hall now, there's not much food that particularly sticks out as exciting to me, but just eating anything is lovely. It's loud and smells strong, but I can take some deep breaths and go along with it.

9:55pm

I'm home, working on homework and trying to rest and relax. Things are confusing, but it'll be okay. I've done a lot of good work, so I can take a break to help me feel better tomorrow.

Goodnight!

[epiphanyblog03]

Michael Jan Bautista

"Opening the page marks the beginning of a lifetime's adventure." Opening matters help us to achieve our goals and create a meaningful end. As a writer, I need more experience in life. Through my ups and downs, I must get more experience to become a creative writer. Writing will be more meaningful if we relate it in our life.

Lady Hannah Cunanan

Growing up, my interpretation of writing was a school requirement that made my cousins struggle. The main reason why it was not my cup of tea before and I blame my cousins for it because I see them struggling with school work all the time. That's why I despise writing before

At age nine, I was handpicked by our class adviser to be a representative in the upcoming competition, and I didn't have a choice since they were lacking manpower. Since I hated it before, during practices I didn't give my hundred percent attention to it. I will just do the things that my coach told me to do so that I can go home already. As expected, when the competition day came, I lost, and it's fine with me. The next year, I was also handpicked by my adviser to join the competition and lost again. I am totally fine with it and I already told myself at that time that writing was never for me. The next day, I was eleven and it was my last year in elementary school. My coach chose me to be a representative in a Filipino essay competition. I was hesitant at first since I have bad experience in writing competitions—but then I grab the opportunity. I don't know, but during our practice, I started enjoying it. I was adamant to admit it to myself, but I know I am enjoying what I'm doing. Fast forward to the competition day, and I can still remember that our topic is about hardwork. Since there is a time limit, I was a bit pressured since I could see that the other participants had already done it and I had not. So I just focused more and let myself write whatever that I am feeling at that time was. I was not expecting to win because of all the competitions that I had entered. I participated in having a negative result, so when they announced that I won third place, I was shocked and I wasn' t able to react immediately. It was more memorable for me since it happened during my last year in elementary. After that day, that's when I realized that writing is not bad at all.

When I was twelve, this was the time where I was clueless about the things that were happening around me. I was lost. This is the time where I don't know where I belong. And since I am an introvert, it is hard for me to open up to someone just to vent about what I am feeling. I just found myself one day that I was writing what I was feeling at the time and it made me feel good. I don't do it every single day , but it helps me a lot.

Thirteen is the age when I tried to write some stories and poems. But the main reason why I started it was because it was a school requirement for our Filipino subject. I just found myself trying to do a poem or story even if it's not subject required. I wanted to do it because Leot inspired my other friends and classmates. After all, they are good at it.

At fourteen, I was in grade nine back then. This is the time where I got separated from my friends because I was put in a different section. I thought it would be okay at first, but it is not. I had a hard time adjusting because I am not familiar with my classmates. though I was able to adapt to it after a few months. I was assigned as one of the class officers, and it was hard. It is frustrating since I have naughty and reprehensible classmates. They are like kids and I just can't lash out my frustrations with them because I am thinking maybe they are going through something. That is why writing became my friend in grade school because I would always write my frustrations on paper and then burn it all at the end of the school year to start over.

Sixteen is the age where I thought the things that I wouldn't experience would happen to me. Classes were suspended in the last month of my grade ten life due to the virus that was spreading, and we have not been able to come to school for almost two years as a result of this pandemic. For the summer of 2020, I have a lot of plans that didn't happen. My mental health was a mess because I saw on the news every day that the COVID cases in the Philippines were increasing. I was frustrated. At this age, I am supposed to enjoy my life because in a few years I will be facing the reality of life. And during this year, I slowed myself from writing because venting out what I feel through writing is not helping me anymore. Though there are times where I write about how my days are going, it is not as often as it was before and I find no joy in doing it anymore.

This year I started to go to school again after a year-long break from it. I was nervous for the first few weeks since I don't know anyone and my mind is not yet conditioned for some academic things. It feels like a new beginning. Since I stopped writing for a while, it's a bit hard for me to write a written output because my mind is wandering somewhere else, and I panicked when I learned that I have a creative writing subject because I know that I am not a creative person. I am not playful and deep when it comes to words.

But when I started doing all the required outputs for this subject, I felt lightness instead of a burden. Even though sometimes I'm still struggling, I'm enjoying it. Also, because of this subject, I started writing again slowly, since I am not forcing myself. I am trying to apply in my writings the lessons that I've learned on this subject. Writing and I have had a love-hate relationship ever since. My relationship with writing started with hate. There are times when I don't have any creative juices to do it and it gives me frustration. But writing is also my buddy in life. Since I am not a vocal person, it helps me a lot, especially in venting out my emotions. I know that, even though I wouldn't admit it, writing has a huge impact on my life. When everything is in chaos, I always find peace in writing.

Karole Elise Eco

I hated being a mediocre. A girl that’s not good in anything. An average girl that doesn’t like writing, it’s something I really can’t do.

I have tried a lot of things but I am not very good at writing. I struggle to put my thoughts into phrases, find the right words to express how I feel, and explain myself in writing.

But one thing is certain: I tried my best to appreciate it.

To the extent that I attempted it, I tried to love it. I made an effort to become better at it by trying to write poems, read books, increase my vocabulary, and everything else. Simply put, I was unsuccessful, but my love for this craft remains.

I continue to look up terms I don't know, attempt to read books in my spare time, and take every opportunity to learn it. Even my desire to discover a skill that I excel at remains. I make an effort to paint, dance, play badminton, pick up new guitar chords, and even write.

It’s awful to be average at everything, I know, but I am continuing searching something I am really good at because I have faith in my ability to find it. It's okay that way.

Now that I am writing this essay, I had a hard time looking for the right words; but here I am, ending it. It is not that good, I know. But I have reached a point where I understand that even though I am not really good at something, I can still do a lot of things. Even though I am not great at them, I should be grateful that I can do them because some people never even reach the stage where they can.

And I think I have just discovered my area of strength: which is my willingness to attempt anything.

Arshlee Shereen Gabiola

“You can make anything by writing.” A quote from C.S. Lewis. I agree with this remark because I believe you can write about anything. As for myself, I enjoy making up scenarios and stories in my imagination, as well as reading fictitious stories. However, we cannot avoid barriers and issues when writing, so keep reading to find out what I experienced.

I grew interested in stories, and two years ago I attempted to write my own Alternate Universe (AU) story or fan fiction. Reading provides you ideas for what you can write or make; reading plays an important role in composing my stories. I was full of inspiration in the first portion of this piece, and it really motivates me. But I quickly ran into what they dubbed “writers block”, in which I was unable to produce fresh work of suffered a creative halt. I was frustrated and unsure of what to do; I was worried that my effort would be a waste of time and that no one would want to read it. Until now the piece is still on going, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to finish it because I’ve lost interest in writing that story. But happily, I can still write new stories, and I must continue to improve in order to become a good writer.

Lastly, I may have felt frustration, remorse, disappointment, or despair because I am unable to write anything even when I want to. I am doing my best to create or produce a piece because writing allows you to express your thoughts, construct scenarios that you want to happen or come true, plus write anything you want. Writing brings me both joy and sorrow.

Glezette Garcia My Fabula

Just like other kids, at a young age they learned how to draw different shapes or lines on the wall. And when I was two (2) years old, I also drew lines and shapes on our wall. And the usual, my parents thought that those shapes had meanings and stories, but they did know that it was just my little mind practicing creative things, enjoying making designs. As time went by, I learned how to explore basic colors. That’s why when I was 5, I learned how to – not perfectly – color the characters in the short story books that I had. At the age of 8, I started to write things. That’s why I started to write in slam books or write in my diary, writing stories that happened in my day, especially a tragic scenario that happened to my little heart. Writing things on paper became my habit.

When I entered high school, I just realized that my strength is writing, like writing essays. I’d rather write essays than solve math problems. I enjoyed it when our teachers required us to write poems, stories, or songs. Then when I was in 8th grade, I started to read stories on wattpad app or book and as time passed reading different stories that had different plots, genres, or themes, my imagination expanded. That’s why when I was in 9th grade, I started to write a poem and tried to submit it to our official school publisher, "The Angelian." Hundreds of literary works have been submitted, and they just need to choose a few of them. And I was very surprised that my masterpiece was chosen as one of the literary works for the 6th edition of "ASKE." That opportunity gave me the perseverance to continue to write and engage in literary work, in creative writing. Since I really enjoy literature and writing, I started to write stories in the wattpad app that have different plots and themes when we needed to stay at home because of the pandemic. But as time went by, I lost my passion in writing, so I did not finish stories that I started.

However, when the online class started, my passion for writing returned. Because of the activities related to creative writing, I was enticed again to create stories, poems, or other writing. I gave my best in writing short stories, poetry, or research. Hence, I was consistently the best in Filipino when I was in 10th grade and got - 99 grade - almost perfect. My passion for creative writing motivates me to take the humss strand. And when I became a senior high school, I still got a - 99 grade - almost perfect in the subject "Pagbasa At Pagsusuri Ng Iba't Ibang Teksto Tungo Sa Pananaliksik." My last year as a high school student became more interesting, our creative writing subject molded me to become an even better writer. And as of now, I am really passionate about writing stories, especially stories that are not typical for everyone, and other literary works. For me, in my last year I didn't really do too much literary work, but I am proud of myself that I'm improving as a creative writer. Therefore, I am still looking forward to becoming a director, a successful director and writer.

Maxene Valerie Mandap Effuguim

I opened my eyes in this world, knowing nothing. I can't even speak well enough to communicate my feelings. People in my life continued to give me books as I got older so that I could read and learn new things. I have enough books in my collection to create a little library of my own. Perhaps only for that reason does my mind keep generating original ideas when I work on a literary piece. I developed a passion for writing, especially poetry and creative essays, and there are those who have supported and mentored me as I have explored the various genres of literary works.

When I was six years old, I began reading various novels, and at my former school, where we commemorate first Friday masses, I even began to serve as a lector. I started expressing my opinions more at this point. Writing serves as a diary, a companion to whom I can tell tales, and a conduit for my thoughts when I need someone to hear them. Writing for me at that time is someone who listens to my amusing stories and what is going on in my life. It became my friend, a companion who is attentive to your ideas and tales. I started composing poems when I was nine years old. Poetry writing for various topics is one of the exercises we do in our English class. I developed a passion for poetry at that time period and dreamed of becoming a poet someday. As a way to pass the time when I'm bored, writing has become my hobby. At that time, I even created a "theme" jar where I wrote potential poem topics. Now, whenever I compose a poem, I choose a word from the jar, and that word serves as the topic for the poem I am writing at the moment. I used to love writing so much that it turned into a pastime. I became interested in journalism when I was eleven years old. Ma'am Eunice Cyra Libuna, my mentor, encouraged me to compose editorial articles. I transformed my passion for writing into a skill that I will have when I grow older. During this time, I started joining competitions for journalism. I had the blessings to place regionally in a journalistic competition. Looking back, I find it hard to believe that at that young age, I was able to create a creative work that moved readers and enabled me to advance to the regional level. As I participated in writing competitions at the time, writing evolved into a tool for me to communicate with other writers. I experimented with writing spoken poetry as I turned thirteen. I recalled participating in a spoken poetry competition about the value of language in our nation at that time with my two classmates. With the assistance of some of our class's volunteer writers, we created an exceptional piece. Two of our teachers provided us valuable suggestions as we rehearse our performance and motivated us to work harder during the competition. We were able to win and returned home with pride and joy in our hearts because of the significant influence our performance had on the entire student audience. At the moment, I consider writing to be a talent, as I took great delight in it.

Sir Renz Lacson, our Filipino teacher, assigned us numerous writing exercises regarding composing a "sanaysay" about various subjects when I was fourteen. This has given me access to a completely new world and given me additional opportunities to express myself. As I rode the jeepney to school, I recalled composing a "sanaysay." The atmosphere and soothing sound of the wind gave me the inspiration to write a "sanaysay" about a certain topic. Reading through my writings again, I'm still astounded by how well-organized my ideas were at that young age. Since writing has become my comfort zone at this point, it is a means for me to express myself more. When the pandemic began when I was fifteen, I kept writing poetry. The greatest accomplishment during this period was writing a statement poem in which I discussed the injustices and corruption that occurred throughout the first quarter of the pandemic. Additionally, I created a youtube channel where I upload my compositions. I recall writing poetry anytime I am feeling worn out and depressed. Writing at this time served as my means of escaping the harsh realities of life. Ma'am Bernadette introduced flash fiction when I was sixteen. She obliged us to do a task in which we had to come up with a creative flash fiction. Because of my extensive writing expertise, my exhausted mind was instantly inspired to come up with a unique technique to compose a flash fiction. There are codes in the story that, if read regularly, will have a common plot, but if you notice the codes and read them in that order, there is another plot that the audience will find unexpected. This is the composition I came up with. At that time, writing is a creative endeavor and a passion that sparks inspiration in my head. At the age of seventeen, I can now express myself more since I read literature and keep a journal. I came across a new skill where I turn my creations for poems into songs. I came to see that writing is a talent I possess that I can utilize to touch the hearts of many.

Other people see writing as a complicated thing to do, because we have different ways on how to express our thoughts. But for me, writing is a work of art, a hobby, a friend where I can express myself without judgement. It is an opportunity for me to gain more opportunities in life. It is also a teacher, that teach and inspire me to write more pieces. Overall, writing for me is a work of art, where I can escape the real world for a while, and turn my works into a completely new world where I can express myself, and be fully happy. Writing makes me feel like a child again, without any problems and obligations in life.

Eunice Pangan

My writing journey is not just a walk in the park, just like any other. I have started my journey of creative writing with a humble beginning with basic knowledge in grammar, I started first with short essays and anecdote. The usual genre I do before are comedy and slice of life. This is because it is easier for me to write when I could relate what I’m writing in my life usually, I do these write-ups in school or whenever it is necessary to do so.

Furthermore, as I took on a new and challenging level, I have tried writing short stories. Mostly, I like to write with romantic plots as I have enjoyed in creating characters that would fall in love with each other. This is not an easy task, as although there is short within its name, one should still be meticulous about creating the plot of the story in here, I have realized that it is really important to have a smooth flow of the plot, with that, it is also important to have a proper buil-up of the story in order for the readers to be engaged with what they are reading. In addition, I also learned how to appropriately apply contextual influences such as the culture I have as a Filipino, since the stories I make are usually set during the recent times here in the Philippines.

Although I have a fair share of creating these write-ups, and as much as I have enjoyed writing stories, I believe I still have a long way to go whenever I write, new discoveries were always unlocked. Thus, writing created a space where in my creativity bursts and expands. It indeed gave me an avenue to grow and improve now just with its technicality but also as a person.

Willian Payumo My Journey

Every writer has a distinct and unusual writing process, one that calls for various stages. Personally, I think there are numerous approaches a writer can take in order to produce the desired essay, there isn’t just one strategy to do it.

Even after I’ve done my planning and brainstorming, the writing process may be really irritating for me since I immediately start rewriting my phrases and erasing what I’ve written. This can sometimes make the writing process seem drawn out and tedious and is frequently very frustrating, but by learning and using the various steps of the writing process that are most effective. For me, I will be able to produce well written essays that clearly communicate my intended message to my audience.

I obtain paper and a pen and brainstorm by writing down any thought that occurred to me. I then organize the disorganized ideas into a list of my main points and more comprehensive concepts. For me creating a draft is the first step, making a draft enables me to organize my essay. Since my prewrites serve as a guide for creating a good copy. The hardest step in writing an essay, in my opinion, is to compose a draft because it provides the outline of the subject, and it allows for the thinking process. Once I renew all the words and I’ll make sure the word is correct and I’ll check the grammar. The last thing I make sure to do while reusing is to read my work aloud so that I can hear if there is anything that needs to be changed in my writing that I am unable to see.

Gabriel Simsuangco Boring Origin Story

My journey towards creative writing was a rather uneventful one. Basically, I just found out I had that subject this school year! I most likely would have never taken it seriously if it weren’t graded.  A little honesty to my motives would never hurt, or at least I’d like to think so.

Well, that isn’t completely true. That one time I participated, no I was FORCED to participate in an essay writing competition. This happened last year, and it took a month of preparation for my writing to even be readable! It was difficult at first, but I surely got the hang of it. I also was excused from taking my exams, all of them. It was a double-edged sword, it consumed almost all of my time and most of my essays were affected by my current state of mind, but it was also fun! My journey continues, as I improve my writing skills while still having fun.

Sure, my story isn’t the most interesting one. But all creative writers have different journeys, but what matters is that all writers have the same destination. That destination is the goal of being the best creative writer we could all be.  So, I will wish myself good luck with a big grin, good luck Gabriel Simsuangco!

[abimess]

The perks of library nights

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Being stuck in the library with someone you hate sounds like a recipe for disaster. Surprising you and Wanda, the outcome is much better than you might expect. [Requested]

Word count: 1.250 || Pronouns: not used

Warnings: none

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

3K Milestone Blurb Collection | Get notified of my next stories (Read on: Wattpad)

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Today's not a good day for you.

In Professor Rogers' class, the man assigned you a paper on the most specific subject possible. And after finding nothing about it on the Internet, you had to come to the campus library and look for a book like a Neanderthal.

But even the university's huge collection didn't seem to help you in your research. The only time you got anything truly useful was hours later, on one of the dusty shelves on the fourth floor.

There were very clear uses for each floor of the campus library. The first was for those who claimed to study but spent all their time chatting with their groups. The second was for those who really wanted to study, complete silence. The third floor... Well, let's just say you don't want to go there if you're not with someone.

But the fourth floor was the one where nobody went, constantly empty and abandoned by the library visitors. There were the books that were older and less sought after. And, of course, what you're looking for was right there.

As you were choosing which book seemed most useful to you, the sound of footsteps broke the monotonous silence of the floor and, with the curiosity, your gaze sought out the owner of the sound.

As soon as your eyes landed on the figure in the hallway opposite you, they immediately rolled back. The girl, who had also seen you there, grimaced before going her own way.

You and Wanda Maximoff have a rather intense history for people who hardly ever speak to each other.

It all began in elementary school, where you were inseparable best friends. With the passing of the years and the arrival of high school, however, everything changed completely, and what was once an intense friendship has turned into a fierce enmity.

Neither of you knows exactly how it happened. But now, attending the same college, neither of you seemed willing to do anything about it.

So your interactions with the brunette amounted to this: occasional exchanges of disgruntled glances.

And so you went on, each engaging in your own respective research, completely ignoring each other's presence in the room.

But it's getting late and you'd better hurry if you don't want to miss dinner. So, putting the books you'd need into your backpack, you head for the door.

To your surprise, the door's closed, which is unusual during the library's opening hours. But you just shrugged it off, approaching and bringing your hand to the doorknob.

Much to your surprise, the door was stuck.

Still, you tried to turn the piece of metal, pulling the door in unsuccessful attempts to get it open. With each futile attempt, your despair grew.

Perhaps because of the time, perhaps because she was attracted by the noise, Wanda walks toward the door as well, and you let out a frustrated huff, letting go of the knob and walking away from the door.

As you walk toward a nearby bookshelf, you hear the brunette struggling to open the door as well, and you roll your eyes in annoyance.

"We're stuck." She says after a while, more to herself than to you. But you let out a dry laugh as you sit down on the floor and rest your back on the wood of the bookshelf. "I noticed."

Wanda casts you an annoyed glance at your sarcastic comment, but soon mimics your position, sitting against one of the bookshelves in the same row as yours, a bookshelf between the two of you.

In absolute silence, you wait (im)patiently for a solution to come to mind. Or, what seemed more likely, some good soul coming to your rescue.

"Urgh, only a Professor Maw paper would get me stuck in the library." Wanda grumbles after a few minutes, burying her face in her hands in frustration.

"You're taking a class with Squidward?" You ask, surprised that the man hasn't retired yet. And then you realize you for some reason are making conversation with the brunette, and your mouth goes dry immediately.

Wanda raises her eyes to you at the same moment, equally surprised you've talked to her. And you're about to turn forward again and pretend nothing happened. But there's no sign of hostility on the girl's face, so you smile.

"Come on, the guy's just like Squidward." You say then, and it only takes a few seconds for Wanda to burst into laughter, agreeing, and you start laughing too.

"You think he plays the clarinet?" She asks, still laughing, and you smile amused as you say, "I don't know, but he totally has the vibe of someone who sucks at painting but thinks he's Picasso himself."

And so you start making fun of all the professors you don't like, laughing until your eyes fill with tears and your cheeks hurt.

With each passing minute you wonder why you spent so much time hating a girl as funny as Wanda. You had no way of knowing she was wondering the exact same thing.

The two of you have no idea how long you've been in there, but soon noises at the door catch your attention, and you look over just in time to see the janitor opening the door.

"What are you guys doing here?" Scott asks, a mixture of surprise and confusion on his face. "We got stuck." You answer at the same time, shocked that the fact had been forgotten in your minds for the previous moment.

"Oh. Yeah, this door sticks sometimes." The man says in a relaxed posture, taking a step to the side and clearing the way. "Well, you're free now."

You and Wanda exchange glances before standing up, but don't hesitate to do so. "Thanks, Mr. Lang." You say as you pass the man, who smiles with a nod before entering the room you were just in.

As you walk down the stairs, you and Wanda are surrounded by silence again. This silence, however, was nothing like the one before.

This one was hesitant and full of expectation, and you only found the words to speak when you're already outside the library. "You know, I took a class with Professor Maw last semester and I must still have my notes. I can send them to you if you want."

"For real?! That would help me a lot, thank you!" Wanda exclaims as her face lights up and you smile shyly as she starts looking for something in her backpack. "Here, let me give you my number."

You wait in silence as Wanda picks up a pen. Instead of taking a notebook from your backpack, you offer her your hand, and the brunette smiles as she writes down her phone number on your skin.

After that, she puts the item back in her bag, and you look at the numbers on your hand before looking at her again.

The two of you just stare at each other for a while, searching your minds for what would be the best thing to say at a moment like that. Eventually, Wanda smiles, "See you around, Y/n."

"See you around." You repeat the goodbye with a nod of your head, and smile back when the brunette smiles before turning and walking away. After a moment or two, you do the same.

You didn't expect you'd end the day lying in your bed getting a Squidward meme from Wanda. But when that's exactly what happens, you don't mind.

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I hope you enjoyed it, thoughts and comments are always welcome ツ

[markleesthighs]

dangerous woman

pairing: idol!mark x richceo!y/n (fem)

genre: strangers to lovers!au, fluff, suggestive to smut

song: dangerous woman by SuperM (Mark’s pov) or Ariana Grande (y/n’s pov)

a/n: mark’s birthday special! Mentions of drinking, rich partying, some dom!y/n and sub!mark (suggestive and smut), also some mommy!kink (please be safe!!)

SuperM was in the US again, for another round of their concerts across the nation. You were a backer behind SuperM, loving their music and overall aesthetic. You’ve never met them since you deposited your money overseas but it would be a simple hello and thank you from them via a card and that would be it. You heard from someone that Mark’s birthday was coming up, and you wanted to give SuperM a proper place to celebrate his birthday. You decided to let SuperM stay and party at one of your mansions for the weekend. Luckily they weren’t performing the day of or day after Mark’s birthday, so it was a perfect opportunity.

You reached out to their managing staff and since you were one of the top backers for them, they humbly agreed. You arranged transportation, food, decorations, drinks, and everything the boys needed for their party celebration. You arrived at their hotel in style in your white Lamborghini, accompanied by your body guards who were driving other patrolling cars, ensuring your safety. One of them opened the door of the car for you and holding your hand. You were dressed in a black Armani pantsuit, black Louboutin heels, a black Louis Vuitton clutch, and Prada sunglasses. You were a showstopper, getting honks from cars in the streets to poor bellhop looking at you in fear. 

You entered the hotel to find the manager of the hotel to greet you. 

“Miss y/n.” The manager spoke as she bowed.

“Hello.”

“They are on the 45th floor in the penthouse suite.”

“Thank you.”

You and your bodyguards promptly went to the elevator up to the 45th floor and walked to their suite. You ringed the doorbell and knocked on the door twice. You heard a manger franticly curse in Korean before opening the door to greet you. You and your bodyguards bowed as you greeted him in Korean, asking him where SuperM was and if they were ready to depart. He apologized saying they were still packing but that you could still come inside. Their manager was yelling in Korean about how you had arrived and they had to hurry up. You walked inside and your bodyguards helped you remove your shoes as you walked into the living room area. 

You removed your sunglasses as you analyzed the room. It wasn’t super messy, just a few snacks and drinks all over the place. You picked up an empty Shin ramen cup, you smiled, these were always yummy to eat after a flight. You wondered if there was any Shin ramen laying around so you got up and found some packs in the kitchen. A member smelled the ramen and walked into the kitchen. 

“Hyung? Are you cooking ramen? Can I have-” 

He saw you and looked at you up and down. 

“Some. “

You turned to look at him, he looked so cute. His hair was still a mess, had his glasses on and a clean shaven face. 

“Wait...y-you’re...y/n! I-I’m so sorry for being informal! I-I’m M-mark from SuperM!” 

He bowed down all the way down on his knees apologizing dozens of times. You turned off the stove and walked over to him to lift his chin up. Mark smelled your Valentino Donna perfume and it was intoxicating to him. You smelled and looked amazing. Your eyes met Mark’s as he innocently gazed at you, you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes. 

“I know who you are cutie.” You giggled. 

Mark got up after mumbling an “o-oh yeah, haha” and scratched the back of his neck. Mark kept staring at you, he had never seen anyone like you, you somehow looked like his ideal type, yet he’d never met you. Mark’s manager noticed him staring at you before he yelled at Mark to go back to his room and continue changing before he embarrasses himself in front of you. Mark apologized as he shyly left in his t shirt and pajama pants. You continued to make your ramen and ate some while you looked on your phone. You could hear the mumbling of the other members talk about you in Korean. 

“Hyung, she’s really pretty.”

“I know, I wonder how old she is.”

“You never ask a woman how old she is!”

“I would kill to date a woman like her.”

“She probably had a boyfriend or even a husband!”

You sat in the living room as each member walked out one by one greeting you and getting to know you. Mark was the last one to arrive and sheepishly apologized before joining his members in the living room. You noticed how almost all the members wore designer clothing (which you complemented them on) except Mark. He wore a simple t-shirt, jeans, baseball hat, and a Jansport backpack. You hadn’t seen one of those backpacks since elementary school. He looked simplistic yet cute, you liked it. 

“So, who’s the lucky birthday boy?” 

All the members turned and gestured to Mark pinching his cheeks and making goo goo noises towards Mark because he was the youngest of the group.

“Oh, so how old are you turning?”

“2-22 in America but 2-23 in Korean age.”

“Oh! I just turned 21 a couple months ago! How interesting. So I guess you’re my Oppa~”

Mark’s face instantly blushed looking away from you while everyone else laughed. You escorted and assigned the guys their cars and which bodyguard they’d be accompanied by. However, everyone was confused that Mark didn’t get assigned a car, which led to you announcing that Mark would be driving with you since he was the birthday boy. Everyone teased Mark with an “Ooh” or an “Ahh” and Kai blurted out in Korean “Don’t have too much fun!” as him, Ten, and Lucas left in their car. A bodyguard took Mark’s luggage and put it in one of the other cars while he gestured Mark to follow you. A bodyguard opened the car doors for you on the driver’s side and Mark on the passenger side. Mark stayed silent when you turned on the car as you prepared to leave. 

“Why so quiet birthday boy? Never been in a Lambo before?”

“Y-yeah, s-sorry that I’m being really awkward.”

“It’s alright, you ready to go?”

“Yeah!”

You and the other cars promptly left the hotel, you could see Mark’s shocked face hearing the engine and watching everyone in the streets look at you and Mark in the car. Mark looked shy and reserved keeping his hands in his lap and trying to not stare at you too much. At a stoplight you caught Mark staring at you so you turned to scare him a bit. 

“You like what you see baby?”

Mark’s ears turned red and he was panicking in the passenger seat. Mark enjoyed everything about you, your smell, look, and confidence. But you were a backer, a business partner, he shouldn’t be flirting with you. But you were so intoxicating and he wanted a little taste. Mark leaned closer to you almost brushing against your lips. 

“Maybe I do.”

Mark looked at you up and down which turned you on a bit. Mark bit his lip as you were about to kiss him, he turned away. 

“The light is green.”

“Fuck you.”

You pulled away and stepped on the gas making Mark fall back into his seat. He could see the annoyed look in your face. He liked it, it made you look cute. You sped your way to your mansion out of frustration and anger, no man has ever left you hanging like that. You stepped out of the car and slammed the door. Your bodyguards, Mark, and the other members had no time to catch up to you or ask you what was wrong. Mark now felt bad, he didn’t want to play with your heart, especially when he has only known you for three hours. Mark took his luggage as he shyly went inside with the other members. 

They were stunned by the mansion, it was shiny like a new toy to all the members. They began to hoot and holler running all over the place, looking at your giant pool, arcade room, and private spa and sauna. While they were running around wondering where they will choose to sleep, Mark wanted to find you. He kindly asked one of the body guards if they knew where your room was and they guided him into your room. 

Mark knocked on your door but there was no response so he slowly opened the door to find you no where in sight. He was confused yet shocked by the volume and luxury of your room. It was huge and simplistic yet it was also refined. Everything was perfectly clean he could smell your perfume all over your room mixed with the smell of your clean sheets. He heard some rummaging from another part of your room which was your closet. There was a crack in the door so Mark slowly approached to take a little peep to see how you were doing. 

He saw you looking around your giant Barbie-sized closet in your cute fuzzy bathrobe and bunny slippers. He noticed you pulling out a few party dresses before you settled on wearing a Versace dress with a pair of matching sandals to match. Mark watched you remove your robe to reveal your matching black lace undergarments and your almost naked body. Mark needed to look away but he couldn’t watching your hips, dips, curves and waist was making his mouth water. He watched as you put on your dress but struggled to zip it up all the way. 

Mark was about to knock on the door and pretend he wasn’t looking before you caught his adorable puppy eyes looking at you through the reflection in your full length three paneled mirror. He looked like a puppy waiting patiently for his owner to come out, you couldn’t help but pout. 

“You can come out Mark.”

Mark was in so much shock that he accidentally bumped into your door falling over onto the cold marble floor. He got up and brushed off himself and kept apologizing for creeping up on you. As you approached him his eyes kept looking down in shame. 

“I-I am s-so sorry! I didn’t mean to look but-”

“But what?” You walked closer to him taking your finger and lifting his chin up. 

“Y-you l-looked really nice.”

“Nice? Just nice?”

“Y-yeah..”

“You’re so cute. You should go get changed and go downstairs before your friends think you’ve gone missing.” You chuckled and tapped his nose. 

After that Mark promptly left your room to go downstairs to join his members in picking their rooms. Taeyong suggested that they check out the upstairs for other rooms, Mark found himself a room that was right next to yours. It was a pretty sizable room, simple decor with a full sized bathroom and walk in closet. Mark got dressed into an all black suit with a black undershirt. Mark styled his hair with a little gel. All the other SuperM members were yelling at Mark to come down to celebrate, ordering limitless amounts of chicken, beer, soju, and watermelon, Mark’s favorite meal. 

Mark walked out of his room to coincidentally see you also walk out of your room. You looked breathtaking, your hair, makeup, everything, everything was perfect. Mark gestured you to go downstairs first and watch you cascade down gracefully. As Mark walked down he could hear all his member’s screaming and clapping. They also invited some friends of Mark’s that were in the area to come help and celebrate. 

Music was blasting, drinks, food, and games were being tossed around everywhere. It was a fun night. You allowed the guys to have their fun, dance around drunk while singing karaoke or playing another round of street fighter. You liked this. You loved that SuperM gave you a taste of what it’s like to be a normal adult in their 20s, living and enjoying their life to the fullest. 

It made you ponder, you never wanted them to leave. They were a breath of fresh air, it gave you an excuse to take three vacation days from your busy schedule. It made you regret throwing yourself into a billion dollar business at 18. You just wanted to have fun, not sit and do paper work all day. But at the end of the day you felt it was worth it, because you would allow people and groups such as SuperM to thrive and bring some sort of happiness to others. 

As you were reflecting you pulled yourself outside onto the pool deck sitting in a lounge chair looking up at the clear sky, listening to your infinity pool brush water off the clear edge. Mark noticed you were alone so he took this opportunity to get to know you, before he considers pulling some real moves. 

“Hey, y/n? You alright?”

“Y-yeah! How’s the party?”

“It’s AMAZING, I can’t thank you enough for giving me a fun-filled and memorable birthday!”

“Of course.”

“Why are you outside, alone?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“What I’m going to do when you guys are gone.”

“Gone?” “Yeah I’d have to fly back to Milan soon for fashion week, I have a fittings, approvals, and adjustments of garments to do.”

“Oh.” Mark looked slightly sad. 

“I just wish you could have stayed longer with me.”

You glanced up at him. 

“Us! I mean- I mean us! SuperM! haha...”

Mark scratched the back of his neck again out of nervousness. You and Mark continued to talk about various things bonding over Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood and Mark getting jealous that you met Justin Bieber once. You noticed the party was dying down so you decided to ask Mark if he wanted to talk to you somewhere more private. He agreed as you secretly dragged him up into your room, hoping his members didn’t see you. 

Mark’s ears felt hot, he felt himself getting excited. He stood near your bed as you closed and locked your door. You pushed Mark down on your bed crawling on top of him. Mark’s eyes were wide in shock and excitement he was waiting in anticipation before you got off of him. Mark frowned sitting up about to stand but before he could protest you started to punish him. 

“Sit.” Mark obediently sat. 

“Good boy” You spoke as you pet his hair.

“Now, because of that little stunt of a tease you did earlier in the car, no touching unless I say got it?” You seductively whispered into his ear.

Mark nodded.

“Good.”

You slowly zipped down your dress as you slowly removed one sleeve from the other. You slid your dress down with your arms down to your ankles giving Mark a clear view of your ass as you bent down. You kicked the dress to the side as you walked to sit on Mark’s lap. You could already feel him getting hard, 

“Aww, is my baby excited?”

“Y-yes.” Mark was about to wrap his arms around you but you stopped them. 

“Nuh-uh, no touching baby.”

Mark pouted.

“Good boys get rewards, are you a good boy?”

“Y-y-yes..”

“Yes who?”

“Yes...miss, y/n.”

You slapped Mark’s cheek. 

“That’s mommy to you. Again.”

“Y-yes, m-mommy.”

“Good, you’re learning. You should be rewarded.”

You shove Mark down onto his back kissing him, tasting soju and watermelon off his lips. Mark was following your rhythm, kissing you back full of passion and licking your tongue every now and then. You started to move down his neck, kissing and sucking on a soft spot. Quiet hissed and moans left Mark’s mouth as you slowly kept kissing down towards his shirt. You ripped open his shirt breaking off a few buttons. You removed his shirt and suit jacket and threw it across the room. 

“My baby is a little toned now isn’t he?”

Mark has a defined six pack which only turned you on more. You kissed down his chest while trailing your fingers down tracing his abs. You pulled down his suit pants tossing them to the side, leaving Mark in his black boxers. You could see his member outlined hardened inside. You palmed his member and Mark’s face shot up to look at you and met your eyes and let out a soft moan from his lips. You pulled down his boxers and saw his member hard, leaking with precum. 

“Baby I didn’t expect you do be so big. Mommy is so proud of you.”

“P-please...”

“Please who?”

“P-please m-mommy touch me.”

“As you wish baby.”

You played with is member pulling it up to watch it fall back and smack against his stomach. You reached into your side drawer and pulled out some lube, pouring some on top of his member before rubbing your hands against it. You could hear Mark cursing with his moans. You went faster and slower, picking up the pace to watch Mark go out of control with higher pitched moans. When Mark was about to climax you pulled your hand away and Mark whined. 

“This is what you get for teasing me in the car.”

“I-I’m sor-rry mommy! Just please!”

“Please what?”

“P-p-please let me cum!”

“Who are you talking to?”

“P-please let me cum mommy!”

As Mark spoke you picked up the pace immediately eventually sucking onto the tip of his member for added stimulation, it didn’t take long for Mark to climax into your mouth, which was a mouthful. You swallowed it and licked the rest off of his member. 

“Baby, you taste amazing.”

Mark was breathless, sweating, and seeing stars. He felt like he just did the hardest workout of his life. You climbed back on top of Mark to kiss him. 

“But...m-mommy?”

“Yes baby?”

“What about you? Shouldn’t you feel good too?”

“But it’s your birthday baby.”

“And I want to make you feel good, please. Let me make you feel good mommy~” 

The way Mark said mommy turned you on so much you wanted to go for a second round. He really knew how to rile you up. Plus, he looked adorable begging, so you gave him a free pass. 

“Alright, since it’s your birthday, you can make mommy feel good, show mommy what you’re made of baby. You are granted permission to touch me however you like baby.”

Mark immediately flipped you over and had you against your headboard with your pillows. He started to kissed you passionately while rubbing you all over your body. He would constantly ask if he was doing good and you would agree and tell him to keep going. Mark tried to remove your bra smoothly but was having some trouble. You kissed him and reassured him it was alright and removed the bra yourself. Mark kissed down your body and pulled down your underwear and he slowly pulled away your legs before licking against your wet cunt. 

“Mommy, you’re so wet...”

“All for you baby, keep going...”

Mark was surprisingly doing well making you feel really good, you were muffling your moans into your pillows before Mark finds your sweet spot which makes you jolt up to push his head down further with his hair. You were a moaning mess, Mark licked and sucked hard down on all the right places causing you to climax, almost crushing Mark’s face between your thighs. Mark smirked before kissing you, now tasting your sweet cunt in his mouth. 

“Can I put it in mommy?”

“Y-yes, please, put it in!”

Mark slowly entered you as you moaned out loud, Mark grabbed your face to look at him, he wanted to see your face. He slowly thrusted into you which felt painful at first but began to feel immense pleasure. Mark was also moaning harmoniously with you, kissing your forehead every couple of thrusts. 

“I-I’m close!”

“Me too!”

“Fuck!”

You both kissed each other as you both climaxed. Mark removed himself from you as he cuddled you into bed under your plush sheets.

“Happy birthday baby.”

[unsupervisedpanda]

Shots fired

Spencer x reader

Sitting on Spencer's couch you'd been reading one of your favorite books. It was early, at least for a weekend it was. You'd come by Spencer's hoping to catch him before a phone call from the team, however he seemed to have been gone already.

   You thought about just going home, but decided to stay and clean the already, mostly pristine apartment. It was organized in his own chaotic way. You'd slowly put away his paperwork and obsessively marked books.

  You then walked over to his nearly empty sink washing the dishes. After that it was doing his laundry and maybe make and remake his bed.

  Today was your last day off which is why you were hoping to catch him. You worked at an elementary school and taught a rambuctious group of 2nd graders. They were great kids and you loved them all dearly.

  That being said tomorrow was Monday so you had things that you needed to prepare. That is why you called Spencer and let him know you'd been there. You knew he was observant and may panic if he saw his apartment.

   "Hey Spence, it's me. I just wanted to let you know I stopped by. I love you and I'll see you when you're back. Kisses." Then you hung up.

  Nothing could have prepared you for the next day.

You woke up at 5:00am and got ready for the day. The school day didn't start until 8:30, but you wanted to catch a shower.

Swinging your legs over your bed and wobbled to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and your brush on the way. You had your clothes laid out the night before, surprisingly you were set for Monday it was Friday when you just threw your clothes on and prayed they matched.

  That being said you sauntered into the small room flipping the light on and flinching at it's brightness.

   "Ugh no! Tis to early for this." You groaned plopping the towel on the toilet.

  You stripped the overnight clothes off and turned the shower on, the steam rising from the enclosed space and into the rest of the room.

   Pulling the curtains aside you stepped in, the hot water cascading down your back and soaking your hair. The water washed away your sleepiness and you began to shampoo and condition your locks. You hummed as the suds made your hair squishy and soft. You giggled before putting your head back under the rushing water. The soap washed out gathering around your feet and down the drain.

   Once you were sure the soap was out and that your body felt refreshed, you shut the water off. Stepping out of the shower your feet padded on the shower mat. You smiled reaching over and grabbing the grey towel.

  Drying your body you then dried your hair. Once you were sure you wouldn't drip water everywhere you brushed through your damp hair.

  Spinning back to your door you wrapped the towel tightly around yourself. You needed to get dressed and you'd sleepily left the clothes in your room. Huffing you opened the door, the cool air rushing at your damp flesh, goosebumps rising.

Shivering you padded to your room and made sure the curtains were closed, windows locked, and then locking the bedroom door. You heard all sorts of stories from Penelope about how women were attacked in their own homes while they were vulnerable. No not you and not today.

   Quickly you slipped into your clothes, which happened to be a pair of black leggings and a (favorite color) dress that ended just above the knee, with a light overcoat

  You huffed before grabbing your phone. 5:45 am. Good you were on a roll. You lived about 15 minutes away from the school so you had time.

  Sliding your sneakers on you tied them before hearing your front door open. You immediately jumped up, opening your night stand, and pulling out the pistol you'd kept stashed there.

   You crept over to the door and unlocked the knob. With the way your apartment was set up you couldn't see the front door or the kitchen. Stepping into the hall you slinked down towards the living room. Once you entered you saw the back of the person kneeling in front of your fridge.

   You almost laughed out loud, but clicked the safety back on.

   "Spence you couldn't text me before coming over?" You giggled as the brunette jumped, hitting his head off the top of the fridge.

  "Ouch! Crap. I'm sorry y/n I wanted to surprise you. I figured I could stop by early enough that I won't be called in." You laughed at the male before placing the gun in another drawer in the kitchen. 

  "Awe that's sweet Spencer. What were you looking for?" You laughed walking over to him and pushing his bangs out of his face.

  "Ehm well I was looking for some coffee creamer because the barista forgot it. They were really busy." You nodded before brushing past him and to the refrigerator.

  "Ahh let's see I have hazelnut and vanilla and oh! There's some caramel, too."

   You heard him whisper a soft "Vanilla, please." Before you stood up the container in hand. Turning around you saw his eyes were downcast and your eyebrows raised in concern.

  "Spencer. Is everything alright?" He seemed to jump at the question, but nodded reaching for the bottle in your hand.

   "No. There's something bothering you, love. What happened yesterday?" His eyes widened as you placed the bottle behind him on the counter.

  "You can talk to me. You know that. Now spill, Spence." He shuddered slightly before sighing.

   "There's a case. The unsub is targeting elementary schools in the area. He targets the female employees killing them, talking about it's them or the kids. He even used a recording to lure them. Still no one is taking us seriously! We've gone to several of the schools, even the superintendent! They're refusing to shut the schools down saying that 'our employees are trained for this.'" He huffed heavily running his fingers through his hair.

  "This guy is smart y/n. He's already gone to three schools and killed 23 people and-" he choked up as he thought about the 13 children who died.

  "Spence, what school would he go for next? He's smart and calculated I'm sure. Where would he target next?" You looked at your best friend worry in your eyes. He looked up at you the gears in his head turning.

  "That's the thing y/n he's unpredictable. We thought he had a connection to one and he attacked another. We have no idea which school he'll target next. So far all of his attacks would seem random but they're not." He sighed out rubbing his face.

  "He's killed 23 people. 10 teachers and 13 children. We thought we were so close Y/n and he killed again. We can't lose. We can't let him kill again." His voice sounded so strained.

  You went to answer him when his phone beeped. He jumped slightly before pulling it out.

  "I got to go. The team needs me. I'm sorry. I love you! Be safe" he rushed kissing your forehead, before slipping out of the front door.

   Fisting your hands you sighed. This man could target your school next. Grabbing your purse and keys you rushed out the door.

     "Yes sir I understand there's no evidence or reason for him to come here but please listen to me. If we take the precautions, just until he's caught there's less likely of a chance for anyone to get hurt!

   We are an elementary school. We don't have to switch classes. We can have indoor recess, allowing the children to be safe, to learn, to have fun!

  We can have lunch in our classrooms and avoid being out in the open. This man is dangerous sir. Please."

   Your boss looked at you his eyes sharp.

  "Ms. L/n I'm sure this man is dangerous, and I'm sure you're worried but there is no reason for us to go into a panic. You may do as you wish with your class, I'll permiss it but I cannot make the other teachers to through with it. I'm sorry." You sighed but nodded.

  "Thank you Victor. I appreciate it but please inform them?" He hesitated but nodded.

  "I will."

Walking back to your classroom your shoes thudded along the tile. At least you got permission to protect your class. It was definitely something.

   Unlocking your door you pulled together today's activities. You'd have to make sure everything was prepared for if something happened.

   Going through your cupboards and closets, you emptied or organized them, to maybe hide the kids in. It wasn't much but you wanted to keep them safe.

  School would be in session soon and you needed to be sure that you were prepared.

    "Hey Lola! How are you today?" You greeted the young girl as she plopped into her desk.

  "I'm mad. Mommy told me that Skylar isn't coming to school today! And she is  like my bestest best friend!" You laughed as she threw her arms up in frustration.

   "Maybe that's what's best Little Lady. Don't worry though! We might play hide and seek later!" You said handing her a squishy ball to squeeze.

   Soon you had all of your kids for today. You may have called the parents and let them know of the risks and  Victor might not be impressed but you'd deal with his wrath later.

    Looking around you told the class of the plans today and gave them a math game to play in small groups. The door of course was locked along with the door stop.

   You gave each child an assignment, but made it a game so that they wouldn't be scared. You made Lola and Jaiden your captains who took care of their crew. If someone had to go to the bathroom you'd take a small group and leave the other group to watch the classroom. Then you'd come back and switch.

    That being said you were constantly checking in on Spencer. He didn't answer much but he did reassure you to his best ability. At least he had been.

   You didn't understand what was happening until you heard someone bump into the microphone in the office.

It made a terrible screaming noise before you heard Haley, the secretary announce that everyone had to take the school intruder precautions.

  Quickly you told the kids to go to their "bases" or hiding places. Jaiden and his team hid in the cupboards while Lola and hers hid in the closet.

  You? You stood next to the door out of sight. Earlier you'd put up a curtain so that if the guy did show up he couldn't look in.

   You heard the other kids in other classes asking what was going on and some of them were crying. You grimaced at the thought of their faces.

   You waited for a while before Victor came on.

  "I understand you are scared. I need you all to stay calm and keep the children safe. No matter what you hear, or see DO NOT leave your classrooms. Thank you that is all."

   Glancing around you began pushing some of the desks in front of the door. Then you ran over to the window and unlocked one. You didn't open it for fear of making your escape obvious. If you needed to get the kids out quickly you would.

   Pulling out your phone your dialed Spencers number. If you heard any evidence of the unsub he'd be on speed dial. That being said you told the kids to stay hidden and go over their "battle plans".

   Steadying your breathing you walked over to the door and stood next to it out of sight.

   It didn't take long before you heard screaming, a female. She was yelling about how it was the schools corrupt system that got her son killed. That if they had listened to protocol and protected him he'd still be alive.

  You gasped before calling Reid.

"Hello?" Shuddering you replied quietly.

  "The unsub is actually a woman. She has a dead son. He died in a school shooting or something similar." The other end was silent for a moment before you heard some scuffling.

   "Y/n?" You sighed as you recognised Hotch's voice.

  "Yes sir?"

"I need you to tell me what's going on." Before you could answer a loud gun shot was heard.

  "Y/n! Are you okay!" You heard Spencer panic.

   "I- I am fine. So are the kids. I don't know about the others though. The unsub. She's here Spencer and she's mad." You cried softly before another shot echoed throughout the building.

   "Y/n. We're on our way. Just stay safe. We're coming." You nodded before mumbling a soft 'okay' and hanging up.

   "YOU TEACHERS KILLED MY BABY! YOU DIDN'T PROTECT HIM! HE DIDN'T DESERVE TO DIE. HE WAS A CHILD!" you gasped as she wailed before shooting her gun again. Directly into your door.

  Gasping you waited. You heard her walk over to the door before pulling on the handle.

  "Oh. So you think you can protect them huh? With a measly door and a glass window with a fucking curtain? No way in hell."

  With that she put the gun against the glass with a 'clank'. Before you could react and loud ringing filled your ears as she pulled the trigger.

   Glass flew everywhere as the woman laughed. Thinking fast you grabbed a desk and faced it towards the window holding it in place. With her only way in temporarily blocked you called for Lola.

  "Lola honey! C'mere!" You whisper yelled as the small girl crawled out.

  "Ms. L/n what was that? It was really loud and we're scared." You smiled softly.

  "I know honey but I need you to get all of your classmates and take them to the 3rd window. Do you understand?" She nodded quickly rushing around.

   Sighing in relief you jumped when another gun shot sounded.

    Gritting your teeth you let go of the desk, glad it stayed.

   Helping Lola gather them all was much harder then you wanted it to be, but they were scared and that you understood.

   "Okay my little adventures, we're gonna do an escape mission. I want you all to climb out of this window and hide in the bushes until the good guys come okay?" They nodded and you shivered in relief. Once they were safe you could do what you needed to.

   Quickly you put them on the counter and they climbed out, the taller boys going first to help the shorter ones.

   Finally it was Lola's turn and she looked at you with big watery eyes.

  "Ms. L/n I'm scared." Your heart broke before you hugged her.

  "Me too. Don't worry though our knight is coming princess." She cried as you put her on the counter helping her out.

   "Be safe. Hide. Go!" They all nodded and ran off. As soon as you were sure they were safe you rushed to the door that connected to Mr. Groves room. Unlocking it you rushed in all the kids looked at you wide eyed.

  "Hey guys! It's okay you need to be really quiet and come with me okay?" They cried and looked over at their teacher and you nearly screamed at the sight.

He had gotten hit by a stray bullet or something and was bleeding out on the floor.

  "Okay. Okay come on. Quietly." They nodded rushing into your classroom. When you had them all you helped them out like you did your own, giving them the same instructions.

   Rushing back the other class you took off your jacket pressing it into Steve's chest.

  "Hey Steve. How are you?" You laughed awkwardly and he gurgled at you. Crying you kept pressure.

   "They're all safe. I helped them. It's okay." You smiled at him and he smiled lightly and you sobbed quietly as his life slowly seeped out onto your hands and jacket.

   Slowly pulled your hands away you jumped when you heard sniffling.

   Whipping around you looked under his desk finding a little boy.

  "Hey hey! What's your name handsome?" You asked quickly wiping the blood off.

  "C-christopher, b-but my mo-mommy calls m-me Chris." He sobbed.

   "Okay Chris why don't I help you out with your other friends?" The boy shook his head aggressively in a 'no' motion.

  "I can't." Your eyebrows raised before your eyes widened.

   "Christopher, are you paralyzed?" The boy nodded and you let out a breath.

  "Okay come here. I'll carry you." His eyes widened.

  "We, we can't go out there. The bad lady will shoot us!" You winced at his loud voice and he seemed to realize what he'd done because he began to softly cry.

   "Ahh honey it's okay. We won't move. We won't move." You hushed pulling him into you.

   You sat there for what felt like forever before you heard Derek talking down the Unsub.

  "Ma'am you don't want to do this! Put the gun down. Ma'am!" You and Christopher jumped when someone slammed into your classroom next door.

Pulling Christopher into your lap you held him close as he cried into your chest.

   "THEY KILLED HIM! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT. THEY KILLED HIM." You jumped at how close she seemed.

   Breathing out shakily you put Chris down gesturing for him to be quiet.

   Slowly you pulled yourself up. Glancing at the door connecting the rooms you saw it was partially opened.  

   Taking a deep breath you slowly made your way over jumping when the woman began to yell again.

   This was your chance. Running at the door you slammed it shut turning the lock.

   "YOU CAN'T PROTECT THEM!" She screamed slamming into the now locked door.

   Quickly you dragged a few desks to block her from entering. From there you unlocked the main door.

   "Chris, baby, I'm going to pick you up and I want you to close your eyes. Do you understand?" He nodded quickly tears bubbling up.

   "Okay come here honey." He dragged himself over to you and you quickly gathered him into your arms.

   "Okay you have to trust me. Just close your eyes." You hushed quickly and quietly opening the classroom door, as the women continued to bang and scream in yours.

   Rushing into the hall you saw Derek's eyes widen as you held Chris to your chest, the blood from Steve staining your outfit.

   "It's not mine!" You assured as you jogged to him, Chris hiding in your hair.

   "The kids are outside hiding in the bushes." You whispered once you were close enough so the woman wouldn't hear you.

   "Mr. Groves, she killed him. And Chris he's paralyzed." You informed as Derek ushered you behind him.

   "You need to get out of here. If she sees you she'll-" *BANG*

   You yelped in shock as the shot rang out.

   "Move in!" A man yelled followed by his team.

   Christopher held onto you sobbing into your dress. You held him close and hushed him, whispering reassurances into his ear.

    Derek led you outside and when you got there you were surrounded by police and EMT's.

     You handed Christopher off to one of the women, promising him he'd be okay. Then you ran over to the bushes and found both your students and Steve's.

     "Hey guys! Come one the good guys are here." You promised as Lola ran to you.

    "Hey princess." You murmured as she cried into your shoulder. The other kids surrounded you in a group hug.

     Standing up you held Lola to your chest.

    "Come on guys." You ushered them to the authorities.

     You were shocked when a woman mobbed you and began to cry as she held you and Lola.

     "Thank you! Thank you so much." She cried and you were to shocked to do anything.

     When she pulled away she held Lola's face in one hand and yours in the other.

      "You don't know me, but I know you. You saved my little boy Chris." She sniveled and you nodded.

    "Chris. Is he okay?" You asked as you set Lola down next to you keeping ahold of her hand.

     "Yes thanks to you. He's a little shaken up of course but thank you!" She continued.

     You nodded before you led her to an ambulance where Chris was sitting.

     "Hey Chris. This is Lola. You mind if she stays with you and your mom?" You asked as you brushed Lola's hair back.

    He nodded patting the spot next to him.

    "Thank you. Lola honey I'll be right back." You assured her before turning to scan the crowd, looking for Spencer. 

     When you found him you rushed to him. Calling out his name, he turned, and you ran into his arms.

    "Spencer." You wept lightly and he held you, wrapping his arms around you as he held you tightly.

    "You did it." He whispered and you nodded.

     "We did it." You told him pulling away.

   He nodded and kissed your forehead.

   "You're amazing." He murmured.

  You shuddered lightly.

    "Amazingly gross. I- I need to change. Steve..." You muttered and he nodded.

    "I think JJ might have a change of clothes.... Or I could ask Penelope?" He suggested and you nodded hating the blood on your clothes.

   Leading you towards his team mates, he kissed your forehead.

    When you got there Derek clapped you on the shoulder, congratulating you for your quick thinking.

    Hotch nodded to you in respect and Emily and JJ fretted over you.

    Emily gave you one of her shirts, and you borrowed a pair of sweats from Morgan.

    "Thanks guys." You smiled tightly as Spencer held you to his side, one arm wrapped around your waist.

    Leaning into his shoulder you closed your eyes. Today definitely didn't go to plan.

     You found out later after you asked what happened, that the woman was named Marissa Timmins. Her son was killed in a school shooting after one of the teachers snapped.

     The boy was eight. The snap occured after she found out that the man who'd killed her child was going with an insanity plea.

    That being said the gunshot you'd heard was her... well taking her life into her own hands.

    Everyone was deemed okay but were understandably shaken up. Luckily no children were harmed. Haley was being treated for a gunshot wound to her hip and Victor had been shot in the abdomen but was rushed to the hospital.

     It seemed the only casualties this time were Steve and Marissa.

   That night Spencer had taken you home and stayed with you the entire time, which the team understood. Several parents sent you thank you cards, and so did the kids. School had been cancelled for the rest of the week so you slept in, or tried to.

    The nightmares weren't helping but waking up in Spencer's arms calmed your racing heart.

     You were glad you had him. So glad. That being said Steve's funeral was on Thursday, and then despite how everyone else felt you attended Marissa's as well.

Maybe it was to see how her family saw her before she lost her child, maybe it was to try and get to know her for who she had been, or maybe it was so you could put a face to the woman who'd killed so many people.

It was closed casket for her, but the pictures showed enough. As for Steve's, well you felt terrible. Seeing his wife and two daughters, it broke your heart.

You offered your condolences and Mrs. Groves held you for a long time. She thanked you for being there for him in his final moments.

Spencer waited for you both times, ready to hold you as you sobbed.

You never understood how Spencer could do this, see people die, day in and day out but you loved him for it.

Standing on your tip toes you pecked him on the lips.

"Let's go home?" You asked and nodded walked around the car and opening your door.

"Let's go home." He confirmed kissing your cheek.

[kojinnie]

AOT Characters’ Modern Jobs Headcanon; The Vets Edition!

The jobs that The Vets would have in modern!au, their workplace antics and their back story. There might be some inaccuracies when describing the job as obviously I don’t work at these industries to know its intricacies. Most of the jobs are office jobs. Enjoyyyy!

My Masterlist .::. Pt. II: Zeke Yeager’s Modern Jobs Headcanon   

Most recent work: Dream Me Home (Before Shiganshina) | reader x erwin smith

A/N: I really need to finish a presentation deck due tonight for an early morning meeting tomorrow but of course, this comes first hahaha 

erwin!

A/N: Basically lawyer!erwin is the way to go, innit?

He's in his 40s, so he may have a settled career

He came from a white-collar, middle-class family. So he wasn’t silverspoon-fed, but his parents had enough money to put him through good school

Got a scholarship to go to one of the nation’s finest law schools

Kept it lowkey in college’s social circle, graduated with summa cum laude, developed a strong academic relation with his professor, and got recommended for an internship at top law firm at the capital city

Starting his career as a corporate lawyer, but then built his expertise as white-collar crime attorney

In his early 30s, he represented a union suing against conglomerate corporation in a big case that had national coverage, from then on he began to know his calling

Expanding his portfolio and became well-known for defending workers, consumers and civilians against corporate fraud scheme

Currently doing a lot of pro-bono cases for deprived victims of big corporate fraud. You would see him frequently gracing your local newspaper we love us some socialist king

On the side, he often writes for law journal and fills in as guest professor at local universities for summer courses

Established his own law firm with some of his partners, specializing in white collar crime and labor & employment law

He’s damn accomplished, but never really had any time for self-indulgence. Even after he becomes a household name in the country, with tens of attorneys working under him, his employees would still see him working on New Year’s Eve

He was always attentive to his employees, though. Although he has a very strict, borderline no-life work ethics, he never forces his employees to follow his habit, in fact he despises when his employees works on holidays and can be seen blaming himself for it a bit of a hypocrite but thats ok

He still takes metro to work. He prefers a very lowkey, ordinary lifestyle because he fears if he shows any knack for indulgence, he will be susceptible to gratification from potential enemies or crooked politicians

Definitely a sight to see at the workplace, for he's tall and always oozes a sense of authority in the way he speaks and carries himself generally

His emotional intelligence is top-notch, you would never meet someone who is able to be very objective and calculating, while being kind and compassionate at the same time

His fellow attorneys put a lot for respect for him, and hundreds of applicants come to his considerably small firm every week, because a lot of aspiring attorney find him inspiring to work with

He wasn’t oblivious to his shiny reputation, but he’s trying his hardest to not let the compliments get to his head. Sometimes he doesn’t give himself enough credit for it

Was approached by one of the political party’s committee to run for local senate, but turned it down

basically he’s perfect if you like a man who’s never home for christmas

Hange!

A/N: Ok ok, I really wanna see Paleontologist!Hange because it has always been my fave dream job, but I want Hange to be out and about with people so here it is

Hange is the type to be incredibly good at one thing, that she will dedicate her whole life for that pursuit, but will be awfully oblivious to a whole lot of things (not intentional of course, they just have a very limited attention span) (they wouldn’t know who kanye west is or what tiktok is)

Like Erwin, they came from a middle-class family. While Erwin’s parents might have been teachers, accountants or other common profession, Hange came from a family of academician and researchers

Hange studied Human Geography at uni, but later found passion specifically in its relation to industrialization and urban development

Hange aims to advocate for a better living condition for workforce, and nearby inhabitants of industrialized city detroit would be a beautiful city if only they let hange designed it

Hange is a professor at university, where they also led a non-profit research think-thank that also serves as pressure group for better government policy.

The university that Hange teaches in, is also the uni where Erwin teaches in summer. They’re close-knitted colleagues as they share similar passion. Erwin relies on Hange a lot for some intellectual insights to help his cases  

Hange is relentless in their cause, you may find Hange everywhere! From street protest to a hearing in the government court. They are passionate and will do anything for the cause they believe in

Hange was once hired by the government as an independent consultant for a new housing project, but left because they grew to be frustrated by the government’s bureaucracy and their outward reluctance to follow Hange's recommendation

Hange spends a lot of time overseas, consulting and advocating development in newly industrialized countries

On Hange’s birthday, her fellow researchers surprised them with a ‘pampering day’ where they took them to an optometrist because Hange had been complaining about their eyesight for a YEAR that gave them a lot of migraines, but was always either too busy or too lazy to go

Hange never really considers themselves as working, because they enjoy their job very much. Hange likes to spend months observing a community, talking to people for hours, and trying their best in understanding their problem

Out of so many great qualities that Hange has as a researcher that meets different set of people everyday, prejudice or preconceived judgment is completely absent in Hange’s demeanor and perspective

Hange doesn’t get a lot of free-time, even if they do, they’d wander around the city to do a little observation. But when the weather’s bad and they’re stuck at home with their pet lizard, they would logged into Quora to answer random internet questions

They’re an avid writer for National Geographic, and one time Hange won a pitch to make a documentary about an industrial city project they were working on

After the docu-series got broadcasted, Hange gained a small but passionate and loyal fans on the internet. You could even find a subreddit dedicated for Hange’s works

for real I want to be Hange. I want to have that kind of passion in life

levi!

A/N: I spent a lot of times thinking about Levi’s job in modern!au. Because here’s the thing, either we adopt his unfortunate childhood into its modern!au equivalent, or let’s just recreate his whole upbringing. But I think his personality stems from a specific things he experienced during childhood, so let’s not dismiss that.

Levi came from a struggling working class family. I reckon his parents might have had worked multiple jobs to sustain their living expense. Unfortunately they both passed away when Levi was very little, and left little to no inheritance

Levi’s parents were not close to their extended family, so when they died, Levi was admitted to the system and had to brace several foster families who didn’t really pay attention to him

Little Levi had come to realize that life’s all about survival and so he had been able to fend on for himself since very young age, he never asked for things

His uncle, Kenny, finally won custody over Levi when he was in elementary. Kenny made money from small-scale racketeering here and there. Levi never asked what he did for living, as long as he got food to eat and tuition paid off

Kenny was emotionally absent, but he loved spending time with the oddly quiet little child, teaching him a lot of crafts, from carpentering to how to flay pig’s skin

Levi didn’t really care about getting into college, and thought that he’d probably end up working for his uncle, so he put his bare minimum throughout school, although he was really good with numbers, especially in math, accounting and finance

One time in high school, Levi’s teacher asked him to sign up for the olympiad team, Levi turned it down because he thought that was a rich kid thing

He didn’t even apply for college, and worked odd jobs after high school. Probably working as cashiers or assistant to retail shop’s owner for couple of years, enough for him to afford a cheap studio apartment on his own

One of his bosses came to acknowledge Levi’s talent, and trusted him to handle the company’s accounting

By sheer luck, the company hit it big, and Levi found himself running the day-to-day accounting of mid-sized business with over 300 employees

He made good money already without a college degree, but with a new-found confidence Levi applied for uni, where he chose to study accounting (of course)

Although he was confident with his skills, he understood he needed to widen his horizon and network -- thus uni

Levi was one of the oldest members of his cohort in uni, but graduated with highest distinction

After graduating, with his skills and experience, it wasn’t hard for Levi to score a job at top accounting firm

There, he discovered an interest for forensic accounting, where through audits, analysis and investigation, he basically finds out if a company is doing fraud and embezzlement or not

This is where he came to know and get acquainted with Erwin and Hange (yippie they’re together again)

The firm he works for was assigned to investigate the finances of a troublesome company that had been sued by its workers for a jeopardizing working condition. Erwin was on the case, and Levi helped him with evidences for legal proceeding.

By chance, Erwin introduced Levi to Hange. At first, Levi would find Hange annoying and overtly energized, but after learning the things they have done, Levi grew to appreciate Hange’s passion (and secretly wants to have more of his positive outlook)

Levi is fucking good his job. In short amount of time, he could get a really ideal position in the office. He was almost foolproof, finding even the tiniest bit of discrepancy in his audit. He’d get assigned to the big league case/project.

Although really good at his job, he’s not a social person, especially in his office. He couldn’t understand the lavish lifestyle that finance and banking people often lead. He will only show up to office party if it is really necessary for him to show up (usually to receive some kind of informal awards for, again, being so fucking good) 

He leads a no-bullshit attitude at the office, largely because of his background. He is a self-made man, and is not easy to impress by some young executives from posh school that talk bigger than they can chew

His cold, seemingly dismissive attitude gained him a reputation of being scary, when actually he is very considerate

One of the things he enjoys doing is to actually teach, he really likes when a new kid at the office come to him with none of that pretentious, big talk, and really asks for his guidance. He would love to teach you a thing or two

He would frequently check on his mentee, just to keep up with their development

And he doesn’t take credit too. When his mentee makes a milestone, he believes it’s 100% your work

If you’re his mentee, he probably doesn’t give a crap about your personal life, so don’t expect him to make small talk about that (and don’t ask him about his personal life either). But he really cares about your skill and career development

Same with Erwin, he leads a very ordinary lifestyle. He doesn’t go out often and would rather reading detective novel with his cat on the couch

He likes to spend Sunday at Uncle Kenny’s house, because he finds himself worried about the old man very often. They became close as Levi grew

Overall, Levi is a really kind and caring person if you know how not to push his button

[waithyuck]

smile

***part of the nct almost collab by @hyucksie***

pairing: zhong chenle x reader (f)

genre: ANGST, a single grain of fluff

word count: 7k

warnings: swearing, depictions of depression, overall sadness, frustration/anger, the reader is sort of obsessed with chenle, heartbreak, descriptions of a panic attack + anxiety, chenle becomes an ass :/, forced kissing, hyuck is a good friend :)

a/n: my piece for the ALMOST collab! I hope you all enjoy this mess of feelings 🥴 idk if this is actually good or not but I think I’m happy with the way it turned out ??? idk anyway enjoy lmao

———

Ever since you could remember, you’ve had a crush on Chenle.

Literally ever since you could remember, considering he’s been in your life since you were five years old.

Classic boy next door trope, you could say.

You attended the same school and even shared classes together throughout your elementary and middle school years. High school obviously had a lot more freedom, giving you the opportunity to pick and choose classes that suited your interests. naturally, that pulled the two of you apart in a certain sense.

You could recall one instance in the very beginning of your freshman year where you caught Chenle and some random girl kissing behind the bleachers. It tore you apart inside, so young a fragile at the time, but you threw on a smile like you always tended to do, and let out a quick and airy apology before running off into the safety of Donghyuck’s arms.

Nonetheless, you and Chenle were pretty damn close; kind of like those best friends you see in books or stories...except that in fiction they usually end up together, and you and Chenle, well...haven’t yet.

You still had hope though, that maybe he felt the same way you did for him. You held onto that hope and cherished it, considering it was the only reason you could get up and face the world on most days.

Yeah, you knew it was pathetic. at least you could acknowledge the fact that relying on feelings from a boy you liked was incredibly stupid, but hey, you had the brain of a senior in high school.

Anyway, you and Chenle were very friendly toward each other, and of course you would talk to each other out your individual windows sometimes late at night, but it wasn’t like those stories people read online. You were simply really good friends; nothing like brother and sister, but certainly not anything more than just friends.

You’d say you probably know more about Chenle than most; besides your shared friends Donghyuck (who was already in university, and your closest friend next to Chenle) and Jisung (who was just a tad bit younger and too shy to really hold a conversation with you). You paid close attention to him because, well, who doesn’t want to know everything about the person they’re crushing on?

Even so, it was definitely a given that Chenle was extremely passionate about his schoolwork and his future career. This kid wanted to be the ‘best lawyer the world has ever seen’, according to himself. You were always supportive of him, egging him on when the workload got to him and assuring him that everything would be okay in the end, even when he was exhausted from all his extracurricular activities and volunteering. Chenle seriously seemed like he would work himself to death.

You never really fully processed what him being passionate about his future would mean for you, and how it would affect your relationship and friendship with him. You didn’t even know that he applied to universities at all (since he didn’t tell you and you were kind of oblivious, to be honest), let alone which ones he strived for.

Fast forward to the present, it was currently the middle of November and school was going full swing, your senior year of high school passing by like a breeze. You were currently hanging out with Donghyuck, who was in town for the weekend from his university in the next city over. It was always nice to see him, his presence always putting a smile on your face.

You both sat at a window seat in the middle of a fairly busy restaurant, joking with each other and picking at your food lightly as you conversed. It grew silent for a moment, your chuckles dying down from some stupid attempt at a joke by Hyuck, before he broke it.

“Did you hear that Chenle got into Harvard?” Donghyuck absentmindedly spoke quietly, picking at the salad seated in front of him on the restaurant table. “Full fucking ride.” He didn’t even look up to meet your now bulging eyes.

Your blood ran ice cold as your heart began to seemingly stop beating, freezing just like your veins.

“He what?” you practically screeched, causing the boy across from you to jump slightly.

Hyuck looked at you then, his cheeks filled with food as he grasped his chest dramatically.

“Uh yeah?” he replied like it was obvious. “He’s really passionate about his career choice, you know.”

“Of course I know!” you shrieked at him, your hands going up to pull at your hair exasperatedly. You chewed your lip, your heart pounding and squeezing in your chest at the notion of Chenle’s inevitable departure from your life. “What, you think I wouldn’t know that the boy I’ve known since I was a LITERAL CHILD, isn’t passionate about his future?!”

Donghyuck was now looking around the both of you, taking notice of the strangers who were now staring at your visibly panicked form.

“Y/N, calm down, please–“

“I’m calm! I’m perfectly fine! ahah,” you chewed on your nails frantically as you tried to quiet your mouth and your mind, your leg shaking nonstop under the table, causing the silverware to shake.

You distracted yourself by looking out the window to your immediate left, trying to watch the people walk by like it was some sort of therapy for your bustling thoughts.

“Why didn’t he tell us he was applying to–“ you cut yourself off quietly, stopping your question short. ”...How does he know already?” you asked, your voice small.

“Early action or some shit, I guess.”

It was quiet for a few minutes between you both; Hyuck continued to munch on his salad and you could feel his eye warily watching you as you chewed your nails to nubs.

“...Are you okay?” he finally questioned, his voice comforting as he pulled you from out of your own head.

“Just,” you bit your lip, your eyes spaced out as you stared down at the floor. “Why couldn’t he have picked a school around here?” Your voice was small and quiet, and you could hear the boy across from you sigh. “Why couldn’t he just do that, like you?”

He didn’t really say anything then, picking up the fact that those were most definitely rhetorical questions. You didn’t touch any more of your food, your stomach tied up in knots, making you feel sick.

“Y/N...”

You didn’t look at him, your face hot with embarrassment from how much pain your heart was actually feeling at the news that Chenle, the boy you have loved for years, would be leaving you.

“He’s really excited about this...you…” he trailed off, trying to pick his next words carefully. “You need to show him some support, even though I know it hurts you.”

You knew that deep down, Hyuck was absolutely right. What kind of friend would you be if you were selfish and kept yourself wrapped up in your own feelings? You sniffled and picked your head back up, finally looking at him.

“You’re right. you are absolutely right.” you finally breathed out, trying to slowly calm your aching anxiety. “Just like always, Hyuck.” You cracked a slight smile then, and he returned it, seeming relieved that you snapped out of your panic, even if it was just a little bit.

“At least you can acknowledge it, angel.” He sent you a wink along with the pet name, and you jokingly gagged, which caused the both of you to laugh.

With the mood seemingly lifted, you were able to enjoy the rest of your time with Donghyuck, even if the anxiety of Chenle leaving was still a heavy presence in the back of your reeling mind.

——

That same night, you laid yourself across your pillows and stared up at the ceiling, not even bothering to change out of your slightly uncomfortable jeans. The lights were on and all was quiet as you laid trapped in your own thoughts, the inevitable scene of your crush of many, many years leaving replaying on loop inside your head.

You tried to distract yourself by working on some miscellaneous homework assignments, trying to get your work done as quickly and efficiently as possible.

You were just getting in the flow of writing a rough draft for an essay when you heard your mother yell up the steps at you.

“Y/N!” she called, startling you. when you replied with a ‘Yeah?’ she continued, “Chenle is here, I’m sending him up!”

Your heart jumped and you quickly shot up from your bed, trying to get rid of any clothes strewn around your floor to at least make your room somewhat presentable. As you slammed the hamper lid shut, you heard a small knock on the door before Chenle let himself in, already beaming at you.

“Y/N, I have some awesome news!” he immediately spoke, shutting the door behind him. You will yourself not to let your heart sink, already knowing what he wanted to share with you he reached behind him to grab his book bag, and once it was in his grasp he set it on the floor, taking a seat beside you on your bed.

You tried not to let your heart race as his shoulder brushed against yours, and you tried to convert up your nerves by giving him a smile in return. Chenle rummaged through his back before angrily grunting, turning to face you.

“I left something at home that I wanted to show you, shit,” he murmured, his hand coming up to swipe over his face. “I can go grab it real quick–“

“Let’s just go to your room, it’s literally right across. We can climb,” you suggested, wanting to escape the suffocating warmth of your own bedroom. Plus, you were always more comfortable sitting on his mattress anyway. “It’ll be fun, like when we were younger.”

You two both grinned at each other then, Chenle nodding his head in compliance as you both stood, preparing yourselves for the leap out of your bedroom window.

You didn’t bother with a jacket; you were only going to be out in the cold for about five minutes tops, anyway. You allowed him to go first, his body jumping out and landing on the roof of your shed with ease. You quickly followed suit, landing a little rough but still in one piece, nonetheless.

He generously offered to prop you up first so you could skillfully open his window from the outside, which you gladly accepted with a smirk on your lips.

“You’re the best at it.” he replied, slightly whining at your smug reaction. “Always have been. For some reason I can never get it open!!”

You ignored him after that, focusing on keeping your balance on his shoulders while you lifted the window open, pulling yourself up on the sill and throwing yourself inside with a dull thud. You heard the scrapings of Chenle making his way up the side of his house, and he toppled in not long after you.

“I’m definitely never doing that again,” he panted, laying flat on his back on the floor for a few moments. You stared back at him from his bed, giggling at his heavily rising and falling chest. “Maybe not never...but not again anytime soon, that’s for sure.”

He managed to pull himself up from the carpet, dusting off his pants and shrugging off his coat before joining you on the bed. He pulled a piece of paper from his nightstand, and your heart began to pound with untamed anxiety.

“This,” he started, his eyes sparkling as he looked at the piece of paper before looking back at you. “is my acceptance letter to Harvard. I got in, Y/N!!!”

Chenle was so excited, and you couldn’t help but swoon at the absolute elation in his eyes as he went on about what he was accepted for and even what the letter said.

You, of course, didn’t tell him that you already knew, courtesy of Donghyuck. If you would have known that Chenle applied to Harvard, you would have had no doubts from the very beginning that he would get in.

Maybe he didn’t tell anyone just in case he wasn’t accepted, and if no one knew then there would be no one to disappoint.

You knew that no matter what, you could never ever be disappointed in Chenle. He was too smart and too good to ever be thought of in that way.

All you could do was smile and smile some more as he went on, barely breathing before he finally took a short pause. His eyes fell down to look at his denim covered legs, and he bit his lip as you watched him in the sudden quiet of his room.

It didn’t last very long, and he took a deep breath before breaking the short silence.

“They want me to fly out there as soon as possible,” he finally spoke, looking up at you from where his gaze was previously on his lap. “I talked to our school, and they’re willing to let me graduate early. I have all my credits, which is really cool.”

Chenle seemed excited, but he spoke softly, as if he knew how hard this news was for you to hear. You surprised yourself at how composed you were acting, despite the jabbing pain you felt in your heart with every word that passed through his lips.

“That’s great,” you commented, a tight smile lining your face, your voice so close to breaking. “When do you leave?”

A question you didn’t really want the answer to. You didn’t want him to leave at all, and gaining the knowledge of a deadline wouldn’t ease your aching heart any.

He shuffled on the bed, pulling his legs up to sit fully on the mattress facing you. He clasped his hands together and sighed, his bleached blonde hair falling into his eyes.

“The end of December, right before new years,” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes trying to gauge your reaction, even though you weren’t really giving him anything to work with.

That was really soon…

“Wait, but that’s before our semester ends—“

“I know.” he cut you off, smiling brightly. “Like I said, the school is alright with this all happening. They’re really happy for me.”

You sighed, nodding in understanding. It was silent for a moment once more between the two of you; only the sounds of distant cars driving down the otherwise quiet street could be heard for a few moments.

“I just want you to know that I’m really happy for you too, Chenle.” you softly spoke, your hand reaching out to boldly cover his own sitting on the bed in front of you. He stared down at your now touching fingers, but didn’t move to pull away from your warmth.

“Thank you,” he smiled, surprising you by taking your hand in his own and squeezing it, taking your contact with each other a step further. “It means a lot coming from you.”

“Does my approval matter to you?” you questioned, not able to keep it from slipping past your lips. His eyebrows quirked up and he tilted his head a little, looking away briefly before making eye contact once again.

“Yeah, I guess it does.” he replied. “I never really thought about it before, but now that you brought it up...it really does, so thank you.”

You stared at each other then, your lips parted and dry, your brain not sure what to say to him in response. Your heart was hammering in your chest and your ears were consumed with the rhythmic beating and blood rushing happening within your own body.

His brown eyes and dyed blonde hair captivated you and your tongue felt like sandpaper inside your mouth. he looked like he was fighting with himself in a way; restricting his body from moving closer to your own as you sat there in the silence of his room. Your body seemed to mechanically move on its own as it scooted closer to him, your fingers tightening around his as you situated yourself against his body, your face now just next to his. His eyes flicked down to your lips before moving back to your wide eyes, and you felt your stomach jump in anticipation.

Before either of you could do anything, a loud bang came from outside of his bedroom door, followed by a yell from his mother.

You sprung away from each other and you immediately shot up from his bed, already sprinting to his open window from which you came in from. Chenle stood as well, looking between you and the locked door that held his mother back.

“I’ll see you at school.” you hurriedly whispered, taking one more glance at his red cheeks before leaping out the window and down onto the grass below.

You climbed your way up to your own open bedroom window, using the shed and throwing yourself inside quickly before shutting it and closing the curtains. Once you were sure everything was locked and the lights were all off, you slammed yourself down onto your mattress, shoved your face into your pillows, and screamed.

——

“Can we go for a walk around the neighborhood? I want to see all the Christmas lights before people start taking them down.” Chenle spoke through the speaker on your phone, his face not in view on the screen as you FaceTimed each other. You heard shuffling on his end as you focused your attention on your laptop screen, mindlessly shopping online for random things to keep your mind off of the fact that Chenle was leaving in just three days.

The few weeks you had with him passed by like a blur, and you both tried to spend as much time together as possible. Between having to spend time with your family and other friends, it wasn’t as much as you would have liked it to have been.

“Yeah, sure.” you mumbled, closing the laptop on your bed with a soft clack. “Meet you outside in fifteen?”

“Make it ten.” he replied with a smile in his voice, before hanging up.

You sighed heavily before putting your coat on, bundling yourself up for the bite of the cold outside. It was bitterly freezing, and you knew without your whole winter ensemble that you wouldn’t be able to feel your fingers within two seconds flat of being out there.

Fumbling with the buttons and zipper on your coat, you managed to make it outside in seven minutes even, meeting him on the sidewalk just down your driveway.

“Wow, not late for once.” he commented, nudging your shoulder as the two of your began to walk in sync down your brightly lit street.

“Knock it off, I can be on time when I try hard enough.” You rolled your eyes playfully at him, a hint of a smile gracing your lips as you began to take in the beautiful lights around you.

Christmas truly was a beautiful time of year; not just for the holiday itself, because not everyone celebrated it obviously, but for the decorations and the sense of home and warmth.

Chenle and yourself both kept relatively quiet as you walked on, only making noise when you wanted to get each other’s attention to point out certain decorations on some houses. It was rather peaceful, and your heart was swelling with warmth in adoration as you looked to admire his face, which was illuminated by the colorful Christmas lights surrounding you.

Your stomach jolted slightly. This may be the last time you see him for a while. You didn’t mean for the intrusive thought of his absence to wiggle its way into your mind, but it was too late to fight it off.

‘I should just confess’, you thought, now nervously picking at your nails, and chewing your lip to bits. ‘There may not be another chance like this, not for a while.’

It was selfish...but it was now or never.

Too shy to actually confess your feelings first—and thinking back to certain moments that you’ve shared with Chenle to come to this conclusion—you decided to take a different approach.

Get him to confess first.

“I need to ask you something,” you blurted out, your brain scolding your mouth silently for being so goddamn reckless in a moment of weakness.

Maybe this was a bad idea...

Chenle quirked his eyebrow up at you before stopping, turning to face you entirely.

“What’s up?” he replied, his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets in a desperate attempt to keep them warm. His nose was red from the chill in the air and his lips were the same shade from him biting them, the sheen of his chapstick almost completely gone now. His eyes were glassy from the wind blowing and even though his cheeks were blotched in crimson, you thought this was the most beautiful he had ever looked.

You couldn’t do this. Fuck, you really couldn’t do this. Why did you have to open your big, stupid mouth—

“Hey Y/N? Are you in there?” he suddenly broke you from your own thoughts, causing you to jump a little in your boots. “What did you wanna ask me?”

“Uh,” Quick, think of something dumb! “You know, why is perfume so damn expensive?”

You wanted to throw yourself into a frozen lake at this point, as you watched his brow furrow in confusion.

“Uhm, I don’t know,” he bit his lip for about the hundredth time since you started your walk. “Ingredients maybe? Higher end perfumes probably have stuff in them that are more hard to come by, so that’s probably wh—“

“Do you like me?” you interrupted him loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as you practically belted out your original question.

He seemingly froze in front of you, and definitely not from the cold air whipping around your bodies as the wind harshly blew.

“Do I...like you.” he repeated back, formed as a statement more than a question. “Like...as in romantically?”

You didn’t even have to nod for him to know what you meant; the look in your eyes told him enough. The pleading, glassy look as hope swirled beneath your irises, just absolutely begging him to say that yes, he did like you in the way that you liked him.

“Yes,” you confirmed audibly anyway, heat flickering throughout your entire face. “You know, b-because I think before we almost kissed in your room that one time not too long ago, and we’ve been more touchy lately—“ you would have continued on your panicked rambling if he hadn’t cut you off, beginning to speak solemnly.

“Y/N...I..” he started, shaking his head as he tried to get his thoughts straight. “I do. I really do,” your heart jumped at his confession, and you allowed it to spread in your body like wildfire. It didn’t get very far, because he continued to speak. “but I...I can’t.”

You visibly deflated; your heart shattered like glass and everything colorful around you seemed to fade into a greyscale, the holiday lights surrounding the two of you no longer sparking any kind of joy. “This scholarship...my future...it’s important to me. I can’t let anything stop me, I’m so sorry…”

“Chenle...” you whimpered, stepping closer to him boldly, unsure of how to properly express your feelings to him at this point. You dared to breach his personal space, and he watched your every move with those same, glossy brown eyes that you adored every day for so many years.

You tilted your head, your lips ghosting over his own as he let out shaky breaths, yours matching his as you stood together in the cold.

His lips were right there. unmoving, as he didn’t pull away from you. If your leaned forward just a little more...almost….almostalmostalmost—so close—

“Y/N, stop.” he suddenly muttered, pulling you out of your trance. His head drew back as he stepped away, still in your reach but far enough to where your lips weren’t brushing against each other’s anymore.

You gritted your teeth at the rejected feeling that bubbles up inside you, the tears welling your eyes before spilling hotly down your frozen cheeks.

“I love you, Chenle.” you cried, gripping the rough material of his jean jacket. The darkness of the night could have hidden your tears if it weren’t for the moonlight blaring down on the two of you like a spotlight. “Please, I love you.”

He looked like he was trying to hold himself together, his lips set in a straight line as he looked away from you, his hands hovering over your wrists. Chenle gripped them suddenly, not hard, but with enough force to get you to pay attention.

“I love you too, Y/N.” he finally admitted, his voice quiet as he tried to restrain his emotions. “But I can’t pass this up. I just can’t.”

You should have forced yourself to understand. This was his life, for fucks sake. You shouldn’t have let yourself feel selfish, thinking that he would drop everything to stay here. With you.

“We can’t be together. I’m sorry.” he finished with that, slowly dropping your wrists from his hold. “If I…” he swallowed thickly. “If I let you kiss me, I know I wouldn’t be able to leave. I know it.”

He took in your figure at last, watching as your tears fell freely from your eyes in hot rivers down your already stained cheeks.

“Look, maybe someday this would work...but just, not now.” he sounded exasperated, running a hand through his hair. “Your life is here, and my life will be starting there. I’ll be busy constantly and it just...won’t be fair. It really won’t, you have to understand, Y/N.”

He watched as your hands shook when you lifted them to wipe your face, solemnly nodding in acknowledgement to his words.

“Okay.” you croaked, not meeting his eyes as you turned to walk away, leaving him in the middle of the park you used to play at when you were kids.

You weren’t going to put up a fight. You weren’t going to plead with him anymore. You were going to try your absolute hardest to stop yourself from being selfish in that way.

You were just going to have to live with that fact that you couldn’t have him right now. That you almost could have had him.

Almost.

——

Chenle faded out of your life like he wasn’t even present in the first place. You barely heard from him after he left; there would be miscellaneous texts here and there but overall, he was right in the end. He was really always busy.

His school workload was heavy, and you were aware of that, but a selfish part of you always seemed to get angry at him for not responding to you.

The worst part was not knowing whether he wanted to reach out to you at all.

He didn’t come home during summer break, which broke your heart a little bit. Donghyuck tried his best to be there for you as you went through the motions; you were constantly miserable at the reality that you most likely would never call Chenle your own.

Chenle didn’t keep in contact much with Hyuck or Jisung either, seemingly leaving you all in the dust as he went about his new life away from you. His parents talked to him all the time obviously, and your own mother would dawdle on about something that Chenle achieved at school to you, but you’ve come to pretty much ignore everything that had to do with him.

You went about getting your own education, passing your classes by the skin of your teeth during the first semester and then producing the same results during the semester after that.

You really couldn’t blame yourself for feeling so utterly heartbroken; you were in love with that boy for most of your life, and for him to suddenly rip himself away from you like that was wholeheartedly agonizing.

Chenle rarely ever came home; he did briefly for Christmas, but then hurriedly left immediately after, not even staying for the full duration of his break.

You actually ran into him by accident one day while he was still home, but you didn’t stay in his presence very long before wanting to go to the safety of your bedroom and cry.

“Did you even miss me?” you whimpered out, exhausted after your small talk had turned into a bit of an argument. He sighed heavily, frustrated no doubt. you could hear it in his voice as he spoke to you.

“What do you want me say, Y/N?” he countered, scoffing at you as you held back the pain you felt burning behind your eyes, desperate to cry. “I haven’t even had the time to miss anyone, let alone you.”

You stood in silence for a moment, baffled at his dismissive attitude of it all. It’s like he didn’t even remember that he told you he liked you too all those months ago.

“You...” your voice cracked a little, and you looked away from him. “Did you even try, Chenle? Did you even try to find the time to talk to me?”

He didn’t say anything back, only staring at you before tearing his eyes away, his jaw locked. You felt as if you already knew the answer.

You turned to leave, but felt his hand immediately circle around your arm, roughly pulling you back to face him. Taking one look at his face, you knew he was angry.

“Do you know how much it hurt, Y/N?” he barked out, making you flinch back slightly. “Do you know how much it hurt to leave you? I–“ he cut himself off as his voice cracked, turning his head away and swallowing heavily before continuing. “I wanted to, so bad Y/N. You have no idea.”

Your lips parted in shock, and you had a million things you wanted to say, but you managed to keep it all inside as he went on.

“But I had to control myself. I already came to terms with the fact that this,” he gestured between the two of you, “wasn't going to ever work out. I figured that out a long time ago... I had to distance myself from you, I’m sorry.”

You really didn’t want to accept that apology. You really really didn’t. Your anger was swirling inside you, a typhoon of emotions building and building as you stared back into his now cold brown eyes. To you, they used to be so full of warmth and friendliness, and now they looked distant and unentertained, like he didn’t want to be here in the first place.

That hurt like a bitch.

You scoffed at him, making his eyebrows raise in confusion before they furrowed, his eyes narrowed at you.

Yeah, you were probably being a bitch for not accepting his apology, and all of this was turning out to be super petty, but you felt like he deserved it just a little bit.

Deep down you knew he had a point; his reasoning was valid and it all made sense, but when did having feelings for someone like you had for him ever lead to rational decision making?

“You know, Chenle,” you started, shoving your hands in your pockets roughly to shield them from the cold. “I really thought that we could still be friends after all the bullshit, I really did.” He watched you carefully as you practically spat forth those words, venom dripping in your tone. “But then you went and messed it all up.”

You probably shouldn’t have added that last part; playing the blame game never worked in anyone’s favor in the end, but your emotions once again got the best of you.

Smoke practically blew out his ears as his mouth parted in shock. Your heart dropped when you heard the sound of sarcastic laughter falling out of his mouth, knowing full well that you fucked up this time.

“I messed it up? Me??” He was pointing to his own chest for emphasis, and you had the audacity to give him a quick nod. “Ahah, wow Y/N, that’s really rich coming from you.”

You didn’t even have a second to get a word in before he crowded your space, so close that your chests were touching. You drew in a sharp breath, not sure what in the hell he was doing right now.

“You were the one that was practically begging me to kiss you that night, remember? You were trying so hard,” he spat, so close to your face now that you couldn’t even feel the cold nipping at your cheeks anymore (whether it be from the embarrassment lacing through your veins or the extensive heat from his body, you weren’t sure).

You couldn’t think of anything to say in response; all you knew was that he was dishing out pretty low blows, and each word was like a knife being plunged into your chest.

“Like, how desperate are you?” he added in, now moving his hands to grip your waist, making you squeak in surprise. “You want a kiss so bad? Get fucking ready.”

You weren’t sure what he meant and your brain was having such a hard time comprehending anything going on in that moment, the pressure of his hands gripping your waist making all thoughts fly out of your head besides one.

Him.

“Wait, Chenle–“ you placed a hand on his chest to try to push him away, unsure of how you felt about this situation.

“What, you don’t want it now?” his voice was borderline malicious as he spoke to you now, making you feel incredibly small and vulnerable under his gaze.

“No I–“

“You come to me and give me all that bullshit, and now when I’m trying to give you something that you wanted,” his grip grew tighter. “you don’t want it anymore? Make up your damn mind, Y/N.”

You did want it. There was still a huge part of you that screamed at you to just let it happen, but you knew it would be wrong. So fucking wrong. He wasn’t doing this because he wanted to; he was doing this because he wanted all this to end right here.

You were scared. He was scaring you with the way he was acting right now.

“Chenle, please—“

“Just shut up.”

Chenle didn’t allow you to get another word in before he crashed his lips against yours, roughly pressing his against your own so abruptly that you felt your teeth pierce the inside of yours. You tasted blood, but it wasn’t the first thing on your mind at the moment; Chenle moved his mouth against yours aggressively and without any emotion besides anger behind it, and you absolutely hated it.

Sure, it felt nice to finally get what you wanted, but in a way, you definitely were not. This isn’t what you wanted at all. You wanted to love him and you wanted him to love you...and you wanted it to feel nice.

His hands slid down to your hips and your stomach jumped in surprise as you tried desperately to match his pace to at least kiss him back a little bit. It didn’t last long, and with a strong push on your hips he effectively pulled away, your body stumbling back from the force of his shove.

His lips were red and puffy and his eyes were dark as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, panting slightly. You probably looked somewhat the same, but didn’t even move from where you stood as he stared at you. You felt your eyes become glassy from staring into space too long, and you felt your hands shake, but most definitely not from the cold.

“There’s your fucking kiss.” He finally said, taking two steps back. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

You didn’t even watch him walk back into his house. You ran as fast as you could back into your own home and immediately slammed the front door shut behind you, darting up the stairs without a single word.

You barged into your bedroom and without even removing your winter garments, you threw yourself down onto your mattress for what seemed like the millionth time in the last year, and began to sob.

——

Chenle’s parents said that he had commitments at the school, some sort of research or whatever, and that’s why he couldn’t stay home long. At the time, all you really thought was ‘good riddance’, but you knew that your heart would be back to obsessing over him in no time, even after what had happened between the two of you on the day you try so hard not to remember.

Well, at least he was flourishing at school.

When Donghyuck found out what had happened between you and Chenle during the time he was home from university, he was ready to kill someone. That someone being Chenle.

“He did what to you?!” Donghyuck screamed over the phone, causing you to pull it from your ear from the sheer volume of his screeching. “I’ll kill him, Y/N. I swear I’ll fucking kill that kid.”

“No need, Hyuckie. It’s not that big of a deal.” you replied somberly, sighing as you relaxed on your mattress against your pillows.

“Not a big deal??? Angel, he basically forced that shit on you,” Hyuck was speaking softly to you now, a stark contrast to his yelling from a few moments prior. “You should be furious at him. You need to tell someone—“

“I’m not mad,” you replied quietly, chewing on your bottom lip. “A part of me wanted that to happen, Hyuck. It just…” your voice trailed off, your brain trying to think of the right words to say. “Wasn’t what I was expecting, is all.”

The line was quiet and you weren’t sure what to say next, and Donghyuck must have felt the same. It was a really fucked up situation, you had to admit.

“I think I…” your voice sounded broken, but you continued. “I think I still love him.” The words came out as a whisper and they surprised even yourself, not expecting to admit such a thing after all that has happened.

“Oh, angel…” was all Donghyuck replied with before you quickly made up some lame excuse to hang up the call with him. You hurriedly pressed the ‘end call’ button and threw yourself back on the bed, spacing out once again just like you always do.

You managed to bear with not seeing or talking to Chenle after the incident (a huge part of you didn’t want to, after hearing what he had to say and also what he did during Christmas break), but when you stumbled across a post of his one night a couple months after while scrolling through Instagram, it had your heart shattering completely.

“What the fuck,” you whimpered, already struggling to hold back tears as your watery eyes stared daggers at the photo displayed on your screen. “What. The. Fuck?” you said it louder this time, with more malice, and you threw your phone across your bed to get it away from you.

Chenle had posted a photo of himself and another girl, kissing each other while snow fell in some random park you didn’t give a fuck about. He found someone else. He fell for someone else.

The hypocrisy.....he didn’t want to be with you because he wanted to focus on school, but then he goes and starts up a relationship with someone else anyway?

Maybe he did it to spite you.

At first, you felt pathetic for crying about it. You tried to muffle your cries in your pillow, holding back the ugly sobs that you so desperately wanted to let out. You silently cried, your heart aching and your lungs gasping for air as you fought the pain in the dark pit inside your chest.

You began to grow angry after a while, your thoughts spinning wildly out of control as your chest heaved, your nails digging into your sheets to keep yourself from clawing at your own burning throat.

You screamed.

You screamed and screamed and cried until there was nothing left inside you. You needed to let out the festering hatred you had grown for him since he left over a year ago. It was ugly and it was cacophonous, but you didn’t care anymore.

Your parents were luckily out, and you didn’t give a fuck about your neighbors. You poured out every raw emotion you felt until you sensed yourself beginning to calm; your chest no longer rose and fell like you had been running a marathon, your heartbeat quieted to a low thrum in your ears instead of a pounding drum, and your muscles relaxed, allowing you to lie down flat against your mattress.

Your pillow was soaked through with tears and your head was thumping, like your brain was smashing a baseball bat to the inside of your skull. You breathed in, five long seconds, and breathed out, seven seconds more, before bathing in the quiet of your room.

Your phoned buzzed from the end of your bed, and you hesitantly picked your head up, sliding to sit and reach for it tentatively.

It was a text message.

From: donghyuckie :P

hey, saw chenle’s post. ice cream in 20? I’ll pick you up

You smiled, surprising yourself entirely, as if you weren’t just screaming your head off just five minutes ago. You were incredibly happy to have such a good friend in your life, immediately knowing what you needed when you needed it. You were quick to reply.

To: donghyuckie :P

sounds good, I’ll see you then :)

You smiled again, and didn’t stop the whole night, Donghyuck's presence always comforting and joyful.

You would be okay, you knew you would. All you had to do was just live your own life, forget about Chenle, and be happy...always with a smile.

[1rintooru]

Little Agreements

Pairing: teacher! Sugawara Koshi x gn! reader

Themes: fluff, enemies to lovers 

Word Count: 2k one-shot

Warnings: light swearing - that’s all!

Summary: You and Sugawara are rival teachers at a reputable elementary school. Even though you can hardly stand each other, your students have started shipping you together and it’s just awfully annoying! Little do they know, you’ve been keeping a secret from them the entire time.

a/n: teacher suga is good suga... this was so fun to write and purely self-indulgent - i can't get him outta my fat brain🥴 but enjoy anyways..!

You clicked your pen once. Twice. Three times. Perhaps to an outsider it would appear that you were annoyed – impatient even, but you knew it was nothing more than a habit, much like the restless tapping of your foot or improper care kept to personal belongings. You eyed the worn-down mathematics book that was currently being hastily shoved into a backpack, the spine barely keeping the pages glued together.

“Looks like you’re all set to go,” you proclaimed, putting down your pen and eyeing the student in front you. The boy beamed, yanking the zipper of his backpack shut and throwing it over his shoulder.

“Couldn’t have done it without ya, teach!”

You nodded and smiled appreciatively. You were flattered but you couldn’t take all the credit. The boy you were tutoring for a couple weeks now always claimed he didn’t care for school; you still remembered how he once told you that sports were ‘where it’s at’ – whatever that meant. However, the improved grades paired with the purple shadows under his eyes told you an entirely different story. He’d made his way to the door, his hand already grasping the handle before turning around, an impish grin plastered on his face.

“Even though you and Sugawara-sensei are cute together, we’re still gonna beat your butts!”

You bolted out of your seat and glowered at the young boy.

“Don’t you have other classes to tend to?”

He smirked at your chagrin.

“I’ll see ya around!” he shouted, sending you a quick a wave goodbye before finally leaving the room. You plopped back into your seat upon hearing the door close behind the student, rubbing your temple discontentedly.

Ah. Of course.

How could you forget the school speed quiz? It was an annual event that the school implemented three years ago as a means to motivate students and raise class scores. The idea was that a group of children would be chosen to represent their class and be quizzed on a variety of subjects – the questions becoming increasingly difficult as the game progressed. At the time you sneered at the idea and even complained to the school director that it would only waste funds and resources. Now you were glad that he didn’t listen to you, though he could have skipped laughing in your face. With that being said, the event was a double-edged sword. It made you incredibly happy and filled you with pride seeing students find the joy in learning again, but on the other hand it only exacerbated the teasing comments from the students. They adored seeing you two together and you never could quite wrap your head around it. After all, you and Sugawara were rivals.

Your eyes darted down to your wristwatch: fifteen minutes left until next period. Not a whole lot of time, but just enough to shotgun a coffee and have snack in the solace of the staffroom. You hurriedly tidied the mess on your desk, arranging everything to your liking for the next class before finally stepping out into the bustling commotion of the school hallway. Excited chitter-chatter and non-discreet gossip filled halls as you found yourself surrounded by young children. Each face was familiar and you could have assigned a name to every single one. Even the tall one with fluffy gray hair and gentle brown eyes with the recognizable birthmark.

Wait, no – that’s no child; that’s Sugawara.

He walked towards you with a pep in his step and a bright grin, parting the busy hallway like Moses as students stared at him slack-jawed and awestruck. He was the school celebrity, proven by the sheer number of students that called out to him as he passed – and he loved it. You tried to swerve around him, but it was surprisingly difficult to escape through a sea of grade schoolers.

Damn it, just when you were looking forward to that coffee!

“Here, like I promised.”

Sugawara’s voice rang clearly as he firmly pressed a stack of essays into your hands, the weight of the stack momentarily catching you off guard. Your eyes instinctively scanned the first page laying on top. As per usual, your students performed well in academic pursuits but that wasn’t what bothered you.

“Green glitter gel pen?” you teased, lifting an eyebrow questioningly.

His hazel eyes gleamed confidently. “Hey, we agreed that I would help grade assignments that you couldn’t catch up on – you never said I couldn’t use my colored pens!” He mirrored your teasing lilt before continuing. “Besides, from a psychological standpoint the color green is more uplifting and motivational than a harsh red.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. You both had agreed that you would tutor his students in mathematics and sciences while he would help grade assignments to take some of the workload off your plate. But that didn’t make his claim any more convincing and it only made you roll your eyes disparagingly.

“That pseudo-science is why I’m the one tutoring your students.”

“Geez, point made Y/N!” he scratched his head embarrassedly, the other hand defensively creating a barrier between the two of you.

“Y/L/N,” you quickly corrected him.

Sugawara’s posture visibly deflated at the curtness of your words. As mature and gentle as he was, he had a tendency to have his heart on his sleeve. You felt a little guilty and even considered saying something to mince your words, but the opportunity was stolen from you as a group of young girls skipped past, snickering as they went.

“Oh my god, Y/L/N-sensei and Suga-senpai are flirting again!”

Your secure stance faltered as the unsuspecting comment hit you like a brick, nearly making you drop all your papers. Sugawara’s eyebrow quirked upwards, thoroughly amused by your loss of composure. You hoped that the heat you felt in your face couldn’t be seen from the outside as you gingerly smoothed out the folds of your sweater.

“Suga-senpai?”

Sugawara’s playful grin immediately dropped as he noticed the daggers you glared at him.

“Huh?! A-ah it’s not like I told them to call me that! It – it just kinda happened.”

Seeing him so flustered would normally have made you smile, but you weren’t going to give him any kind of reassurance. Besides, it would have only worked as ammunition for privy students stalking your conversation. So instead, you simply shook your head, an exasperated sigh just barely escaping from your pursed lips.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I have a coffee waiting for me – and you have recess duty, have you already forgotten? So, if you’ll excuse me.”

You gave him a patronizing poke on the shoulder as you moved past him, beelining towards the staffroom.

The two of you were so vastly different in your teaching methods. You took your work seriously and prided yourself in the academic success of your students – your class always scored extraordinarily well. You were stern but incredibly ambitious and dedicated to your craft. Sure, Sugawara was popular with the kids, but playing the role as best friend wasn’t going to help them pass their classes. You failed to understand why most of the schoolchildren were obsessed with you two being an intimate couple; even prior to the school speed quiz event the two of you were rivals. His laissez-faire teaching methods didn’t mesh well with your own – in fact, you resented them. That’s why it was akin to pouring salt into a fresh wound when each year your respective classes tied during the annual event.

You decided to ignore the thought. This year was going to be different.

****

Oh, how you loved being the one responsible for cleanup duty.

At least, that’s what you would say if it weren’t that you were the only one responsible for cleanup duty.

As you watched one of your students – a petite girl with long dark hair – collect a pile of dirt into a plastic dustpan, you began to wonder how Sugawara roped you into this. Again. You and him had a lot of agreements, for the sake of professionalism of course, but this was not one of them. The school day seemed to drudge on forever and you were not spared from any incessant comments, even in its final moments. Ironically, one of your pupils turned into somewhat of a teacher as they explained to you what ‘shipping’ and ‘OTP’ meant.

Why on earth would they consider you and Sugawara something like that?

You dismissed the remaining students after carefully examining the room. The floors were cleaned and the whiteboard was spotless, but the wastebasket hadn’t been emptied and the desk arrangement was crooked. It wasn’t exactly up to par with how you usually left the room, but you were no heathen and you noticed just how lethargic everyone was becoming.

You also needed to find a certain someone that deserved to be chewed out.

That certain someone was found in the school’s gymnasium, excitedly talking to the school volleyball team that was retiring for the night. The frustration you felt immediately melted once you saw how animated Sugawara became as you overheard his motivational tangent. His passion was infectious and easily fired up the young boys in yellow and blue jerseys listening to him.

Was this where Sugawara always disappeared off to?

It was a silly question, really. Seeing him zealously offer game strategies with the biggest grin on his face made the answer obvious. You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling awkward as all the children – and Sugawara – turned to face you. The boy you had tutored earlier today, now clad in a yellow jersey spoke first.

“Well teach, did ya know that Sugawara-sensei was a volleyball player in high school too? He was a setter, believe it or not!”

You could only stare dumbfounded as your eyes bounced back and forth between the braggadocious athlete and a proudly grinning Sugawara. The lack of response on your end began to unnerve the gray-haired man as the corners of his mouth began to twitch downwards and his eyes glossed over with doubt.

You shrugged, “I don’t really see it, honestly.”

The both of them gasped in unison. The young teen stared at you dumbstruck – his jaw would’ve hit the floor if it could, while Sugawara staggered backwards as if a spear had punctured him in the chest.

“She’s a tough cookie, Sugawara-sen–” the teen’s underhanded comment earned him a swift kick from his teacher.

“Well, I think it’s time to call it a night. How about we tidy up and retire for the evening?”

And just like that, Sugawara had roped you into another cleaning duty. Thankfully the volleyball team was still so fired up from his speech earlier that the tidying up went by remarkably fast. Eventually you and him stood alone in the building, after finally saying your goodbyes to the remaining kids.

He looked at you and cocked his head to the side, to which you nodded in response. Perhaps it was a simple unspoken agreement or maybe it was just a force of habit to head home together. Regardless, it was hard to imagine it any other way.

The cool autumn air greeted you the moment you stepped out of the gymnasium. Goosebumps pricked your skin as a crisp autumn breeze embraced you, sending a shiver down your spine. The sky had turned into a watercolor of fiery oranges and deep purples as evening drew closer. You glanced over to Sugawara, nestled in the layers of his scarf and his hands hidden in the pockets of his coat.

“Do you have regrets?”

Sugawara paused, brown and orange leaves twirled with the wind just short before his feet, but that wasn’t what stopped him. He was clearly perplexed by your question.

“Regrets?” He scrunched his nose as though the word itself repulsed him. He dug his hands deeper into the depths of his pockets and his features visibly softened as he pulled out a golden ring. It gleamed magnificently as the rays of the setting sun reflected off the band. Seeing him fit the ring snugly onto his finger prompted you to do the same, pulling out the velvet pouch that protected the ring within it. Sugawara smiled as he watched you slip the ring on, fondness etched into his features as he extended his hand towards you. You happily obliged and entangled your fingers in his.

“How could I ever have regrets with the life I have now?”

[lonelyreputation]

2021 (AU)

A/N: Got a bit wine tipsy & wrote a teeny story! It’s a bit different from what I’ve written before, so I hope you all enjoy!! Would love to hear your thoughts!! Was thinking of making it a little series, so!!! Happy 2021! I hope this year (so far) has been kind to you !  💥💞 

Prompt: One-sided enemies to lovers (kinda) & No dialogue

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂

Warnings: One swear word // WC: 2.6K // Angst & Fluff

He stared at you.

No, he glowered at you.

He couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you anymore. He’s been with you for as long as he could remember; from elementary school, middle school, high school…He was always a shadow in the room whenever you were in it. Always had been. Always will be.

His earliest memories included you scoring the top grades in school, teacher’s favorite student, handed in every assignment early, and you would always be picked first for a team in recess and gym class. He always resented you more for the latter. Ever since his best friend, Brian, picked you first for his kickball team in elementary school and not him…He ripped the title of best friend away from Brian.

Shawn Mendes hated you.

And he was fairly certain that you reciprocated the same feelings of hatred towards him.

In high school, Shawn studied day and night, turning down countless offers to parties because he was determined to receive the valedictorian title. Looking back on it now, five years since the high school became his alma mater, Shawn was still hung up over the fact that you stole his position of the highest education honor in high school.

He had the perfect farewell speech prepared for graduation. It was the perfect blend of a look how far we’ve come since freshman year speech and a see you later speech. Shawn was fairly close to the dean of student’s secretary and they may have tipped him off that he––more than likely––would be the valedictorian. So, his mother already had a copy of the speech framed and hung in the family room, next to his senior portraits, before the school year even ended.

Shawn finished the year with an exceptional GPA of 4.7.

But you…You finished the year with a slightly higher GPA of 4.8.

The feeling Shawn felt in the pit of his stomach was hard to pinpoint when he found out he was not valedictorian. Enraged didn’t feel like a strong enough feeling. Frustrated seemed like an adjective too soft to describe his disappointment. But the one feeling he could trace back as the reason for his clenched fists, locked jaw, and blinding vision of rage was resentment.

He remembers when the school sent out a congratulatory email to the top 10% of the graduating class. He expected to see Shawn Mendes as the name written on the top of the list. But instead, he saw your name on the top line, and his name at #2.

Shawn had even planned for his graduation party to be on the same day that the valedictorian announcement was made. He wanted to celebrate his achievements with his family and friends because he expected to have the title. He stayed up in his room for nearly an hour at his own graduation party to calm down his rage.

Maybe if he pushed himself a little harder, then maybe he would’ve beaten you out for the top spot.

Shawn Mendes detested you.

After all the years he spent with you––all the way from elementary to high school––he finally felt free after he was handed his high school diploma and shook the principal’s hand. He was leaving the small town of Pickering and attending university in Toronto where he would never have to see you again.

But Shawn wasn’t that lucky.

Because during an orientation session, a week before the first day of classes, he saw you walk on campus with your own orientation group. No amount of breathing exercises could calm him down. All he saw was red. And worst of all, you caught his blatant glare and offered him a small wave.

He ignored you, turned his head back to his group, and tried to engage in the ice breaker conversation.

Luckily, he only saw you a handful of times a semester. He had a different major than you; and always let out a sigh of relief when he walked into a general education class and saw you nowhere in attendance. It would’ve been ideal if he didn’t have to spend another four years with you, but he didn’t see you as much as he did in high school.

Until it came to senior year when you two both landed an internship at the same company.

Shawn thought he was in his own personal hell when he saw you in the lobby, on the first day, chatting with the other interns. He didn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this kind of torture, but he would repent for the rest of his life to make sure it didn’t happen again. Thankfully, he was interning in a different department than you. But word somehow always got back to him about how wonderful every supervisor thought you were.  

When he finally received his university diploma, that was the day he felt truly free. He was done with school, done with his internship––Done with you. He drank a little too much in celebration that night. He drank to never having to see you again and drank to celebrate the job offer his internship offered him.

He didn’t have to worry about either you or trying to find a job as a new university graduate.

So when he showed up to the place where he was now an employee––dressed in a new suit––his smile disappeared when he walked out of the elevator and saw you. He tripped over his own two feet, spilling some coffee on his coat.

Shawn, I’d like you to meet the other new hire––I believe you interned with her.

In the lobby of his first job was where he silently apologized to any God he had ever offended. If this was punishment for missing Church for the past seven years, he begged for forgiveness. If this was punishment for getting into a fight during one of his hockey games, he begged for forgiveness. He begged for forgiveness, but he didn't think he’d be pardoned any time soon.

Because in his new office space, at his first real job, he was only three desks away from you.

/ / /

You stared at him.

No, you gazed at him.

You absolutely loved being in the same room as him. You’ve been with him for as long as you could remember, and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. From elementary school all the way through the wonderful years of high school. You always saw yourself as being academically equally to him. Although admittedly, you thought he was better than you.

A memory with him that was stuck in your mind was one from elementary school; you were nine and it was gym class. Brian had enlightened you that Shawn liked girls who could run fast. And after learning that bit of information, you convinced Brian to pick you first so that way Shawn would notice how fast you could run. So, Brian picked you to be on his team first…Not Shawn.

But after that day, Shawn stopped talking to Brian. And Brian came crying to your nine-year-old self while you were at the arts and crafts table saying that Shawn was ignoring him.

You had a little crush on Shawn Mendes.

But you weren’t all that positive that Shawn reciprocated those same feelings of giddiness you felt whenever you saw him on the playground.

In your eyes, you were one and the same with ambitions. School never came easy to you; so, studying for absolutely every subject was a chore. But you knew how smart he was, and you wanted him to think you were smart too. Along with studying, you buttered up to the teachers so that they would give you the benefit of the doubt and round that A grade––that was nearly an A+––to be an A+. 

You knew he used similar tactics, but he wasn’t as obvious as you.

While you made studying a priority in high school, one of your friends mentioned that Shawn liked outgoing girls. So, you turned down some study sessions, and went out on either Friday or Saturday nights––sometimes both––in hopes you could strike up a conversation with Shawn. But you rarely saw him at the parties you attended.

And even five years after you graduated highschool, you were still hung up about not spotting him at more parties.

You had all the right words to say if you ever bumped into Shawn at a party. You had it all prepared, and even went as far as practicing in front of a mirror more times than necessary. Stored away in your mind was an endless list of topics you could talk to him about. You knew he played hockey, so you made a note to ask him about his games. And you were tipped off by a friend that Shawn liked when people complimented his ability to play guitar.

Granted, you had never heard him play guitar, but you were still prepared to praise him. You would’ve felt proud of yourself for stepping out of your comfort zone to talk to the boy who made you shiver with a pleasant bundle of nerves.

Shawn was a smart person. If you remembered correctly, he was the smartest person in school. You always admired his ability to keep up with his course load, play hockey, and balance out a well-planned social life. A little bird flying around the halls whispered that Shawn found smart and well-driven girls attractive. So you worked harder than you ever had in your life to miraculously pull your grades up higher.

You finished with a well deserved 4.8 GPA.

Shawn finished with an admirable GPA of 4.7.

Ecstatic didn’t feel like the proper word to describe how happy you were. Relief seemed like an adjective that was fairly representative of how gratifying it was to read that email. But one feeling you could trace back as the reason for your blinding smile, infectious high-spirited mood, and rose colored vision was how proud you felt. 

Because the information in that email confirmed that you and Shawn were academic equals. And you knew how much he valued education. 

You spent nearly an hour in your room––at your own graduation party––to write in your journal about how amazed you were with Shawn’s intelligence. Tucked away in a shoe box, your high school journal was still under your childhood bed with that entry.

You were in love with Shawn Mendes.

After your years in school together came to a bittersweet end, you felt slightly deflated when you received your high school diploma. It was your final parting place with him. You didn’t know what his plans were after high school––Always too nervous to make small talk with him. You were leaving the small town of Pickering and facing your fears of living in a big city and attending university in Toronto. You thought you would never see him again.

But you were lucky.

Because during orientation week, you were walking back from coffee with some new friends, when you saw him. You felt your breath get caught in your throat when you saw him sitting on the lawn with his orientation group. All you saw was a familiar rose color when you caught his stare. With a deep breath, and a little pep talk in your head, you offered him a small wave.

Instead of waving back at a familiar face, he turned his head back to his orientation group. You felt a little sad, but you brushed it off thinking he didn’t see you. One of your friends saw you wave at him, and they excitedly took hold of your wrist, and whispered; is that him?

Unfortunately, you only saw him a few times a semester. You figured he had a different major than you; but you always held your breath in anticipation when you walked into a general education class. But when the professor started class, and he didn’t rush in late through the doors, you always let out a disappointed sigh.

You accepted the fact that you and Shawn were no more than people who had grown up in the same town and went to school together. The past was in the past, and you were trying to move on as you filled out multiple internship applications.

Until it came to your senior year when you two both landed an internship at the same company.

You thought you were in your personal paradise when you saw him walk into the lobby, on the first day, that you stopped talking with the other interns. You didn’t know what you did in a past life to deserve this positive karma, but you would keep up whatever good deeds you were doing. Unfortunately, he was interning in a different department than you.

But even as you worked in a different area of the office, you always heard words of praise about him from multiple supervisors. And you always reiterated how diligent of a worker he had been since high school. You even tried your best to try and go on a coffee run with him, just to see him for a little bit, but those plans were never successful.

You dreaded the day when it came to receive your university diploma; that would be the actual day where your thin ties with Shawn would be officially cut. And then you would have to wait for either high school or university reunions just to get a glimpse of him. You were done with school, done with your internship––Done with him.

You had a quiet celebration with your family, opting to go out to a nice dinner instead of having a blow out party. You only drank a little champagne to celebrate the night. You sipped to all of your academic accomplishments, sipped to celebrate the job your internship offered you, and sipped in sadness as regret filled your body.

Because even after having four more additional years of school and an internship with him, you were still too nervous to talk to him.

But when you were in the lobby talking with the head of Human Resources, the ding of the elevator caused you to turn your head. You didn’t think the smile on your face could shine any brighter. You thought he looked really nice in the suit he was wearing, and he seemed just as surprised to see you when he stepped out of the elevator. He tripped over his own two feet, some coffee spilling over the lid.

Shawn, I’d like you to meet the other new hire––I believe you interned with her.

Not only had you interred with him before; you also grew up a few streets away from him, went to elementary school, middle school, high school, and university together.

In the lobby of your first real job was where you silently thanked any God up in the sky that answered your prayers. 

If this was a reward for all of the nights you spent crying over sophomore year biology, you thanked your lucky stars. If this was a reward for the one time you went to one of his hockey games, and got a bag of ice for the athletic trainer when Shawn got hurt, you thanked your lucky stars. You thanked your lucky stars because you didn’t think you would be given a third chance to see Shawn any time soon.

Because in your new office, at your first real job, you were only three desks away from him.

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