#she’s only a first grader and the attitude is huge!

[gucciwins]

a kid literally said “that’s so 90’s”

#the shock #she’s only a first grader and the attitude is huge! #like in context she wasn’t wrong but boy was i shocked #a thought!

[fillinforlater]

Dayeons Disciplinary Diary

Male Reader x Kim Dayeon (ft. Chaehyun, Xiaoting)

Length: 5794 words

Tags: disciplinary sex, sex as punishment, humiliation, degradation, sex in front of others, filming sex, humiliation kink, public sex kink, bratty idol, rough sex, dubious consent, getting threatened kink, facefuck, cum shot, anal, pearly gates sort of, teasing, sweaty sex, standing sex, full nelson, mentions of choking and spanking, a mating press and cock addiciton, angry sex, brat!Dayeon / strict!You

TW: it's better you read the tags tbh, but you can already leave if you dislike humiliation, degradation or dubious consent

Credit: @midnightdancingsol for editing

Inspiration: A cutie send me a rough idea and after months, I was able to come up with sth. I hope you read this <3

“Maybe.”

New job, old problems. 

The five oldest members of the famous girl group Kep1er are supposed to debut as a separate sub-unit. As someone with a lot of experience in planning, training, and preparing you were chosen as an external coach to give advice and guide the fairly inexperienced team. It’s a new task, sure, but the problems remain the same. So far, so unspectacular.

The issues however started the moment you left the first meeting and looked at the girls schedule: in between the usual variety shows and photoshoots they have dance practice for a full group comeback after the sub-unit debut. It limits the time the company gives you for meetings, vocal sessions—literally everything. 

Though a huge inconvenience, it’s nothing you can’t manage. It probably was the reason why they hired you, someone from outside the company, to deal with this in the first place. However, another aspect you were not ready for made your first problem seem like a first grader’s task.

Some of the sub-unit members, Chaehyun, Xiaoting, and especially Dayeon are very hard to keep in check. Their brattiness easily blows up a dance practice session, their delinquency disrupts entire meetings, and their obnoxious attitude consistently brings you to the edge of a tantrum. 

You’ve tried the usual methods, carrots and sticks. Over the first couple of weeks, it became obvious that no amount of carrots could help. Luckily, the company gave you extensive authority over the group. They only cared about the results, so it was time for you to switch from the carrot to the stick. 

Chaehyun was the first to be disciplined. She was mostly tagging along with her best friend Dayeon and it was mostly through her that Chaehyun got into trouble. So after only two sessions of edging and hair pulling, Chaehyun’s strong will to misbehave broke. She became diligent, not missing a single meeting and obedient, obeying every word the dance teacher says. She also became addicted to your cock, an unwanted, but amusing side effect. As long as she continues to be a good girl and give it her all, you give her what she desires. Every evening.

Xiaoting was a little bit tougher. She put up more of a fight because she wasn’t dependent on someone else to come up with a troublesome idea. If she wanted to mess up the choreography, she just did. If a meeting bored her, she would just leave. If another girl would annoy her, she would slap her. 

At first you expected her to be the worst case, but after edging her for one hour with your fingers and pounding her doggystyle, she was already whimpering. What broke her resistance entirely were the spanks on her fat thighs and ass. She later confessed that you were the first person to make her squirt—which is the reason she walks to your apartment every weekend to get her fair share of spanks.

Dayeon is still a work in progress. No edging, hair-pulling, spanking or rough fucking has made her submit to your authority. Even after she cried and whimpered in her mating-press while you slapped her tits in the morning, she would still skip the meet-ups in the afternoon. Her snarky remarks cannot be stopped, even after you fucked her face the night before. So you changed your strategy.

Five steps. Five steps to break Dayeon’s brattiness. 

Day 1: Take a picture!

“Dayeon, my office. Now!”

She was late again to one of the meetings. Of course. It doesn’t matter today, however. It’s a perfect set up to get your plan into motion. You’ve waited for this moment since waking up. 

Dayeon trots into your office. She wears the same outfit as she did during their debut promotions: a plaid skirt, open leather jacket and black crop top. Unlike back then, her hair is now dark brown, a change of style that really suits her.

“What?” she groans in annoyance and clicks her tongue.

“Why are you wearing this? Didn’t I tell you to stick to the training outfits?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Deep breaths to calm down your nerves. Dayeon pulls out her cell phone  and with every tap on her screen your anger rises. Ten knuckles turn red as you squeeze the edge of the table, wishing to break it in half. You clear your throat and slowly ask in a threatening, deep voice:

“Dayeon, will you finally stop being such a brat? You need to be punctual, diligent, and focused on your comeback.”

Dayeon continues to type. Without looking up she snarls:

“Lol, no. What’cha gonna do about it?”

Everything happens in the blink of an eye. In uncontrolled anger, you snag her phone away, push her against your office door, and force her down on her knees. Dayeon wants to shout out something, but you press your crotch against her confused face and keep her mouth shut with your growing bulge. 

“I’ve had enough of your shit. You will soon regret being such a bitch.”

Fear and anger form in Dayeon’s eyes, but you pay them no mind. Open your zipper to free your cock. It jumps free like a loosened spring and its massive size covers Dayeon’s smooth face. Your other hand swipes across Dayeon’s phone screen and opens the camera app. You then point the camera down at the bratty girl and take your first picture. The flash blinds her for a second.

“What the fuck? Stop!”

Dayeon fights to set herself free, but her struggling hands and flailing legs are not enough to free her from your pelvis and thighs pressing her firmly against the door. You continue to take pictures from all angels to capture Dayeon with your cock over her face. She tries to hide from and interrupt you, so you grab her chestnut hair and roughly yank it. 

“Fuck you! Ah, you asshole!” Dayeon screams.

Punish her for opening it by easily gliding your cock into her mouth. It not only cuts off her screams, but also oxygen supply. Immediately, you begin to facefuck her against your door, loud thuds rhythmically echo around your spacey office. 

“No, “ you hiss, as rage fuels each of your thrusts into Dayeon’s face, “you’re the asshole, Dayeon. You will pay for your bitchiness. Smile for the camera, whore!”

Flashes rain upon Dayeon’s face as tears and drool spills down in copious amounts. Whines and gags would do perfect for a lewd audio to relieve your stress later. Her orbs are glistening messes, her drool makes the sensation similar to a squirting pussy and you feel yourself climaxing quickly. 

“Shit, your mouth is tight.”

You pull at Dayeon’s hair again and her lips press down on your shaft. She is like a vacuum, sucking you roughly in. In a last second effort, you pull out and unload a huge, angry load all over her features. Cum pools or trickles down from her forehead, eyes, nose, lips, cheeks, chin. Not one inch stays uncovered and not one thing stays undocumented. Hundreds of pictures, and you are eager to take even more.

“F-fuck, ah, you ass—” Dayeon’s first words after getting her throat fucked are cut short by you slapping your cock all over her face.

“Shut the fuck up, toy. Your phone is confiscated. I expect you to be at the training tomorrow.”

A harsh yank and you bring her down to the floor, deep breaths and shocked, terrified eyes star upwards toward you. You roll your eyes and walk back to your desk, acting like nothing happened mere seconds ago, as if you didn’t just treat her like a useless fleshlight.

“Get out of my office. Now!”

##

Day 2: Make a Video!

“Dayeon! Get to the practice room right now!”

Dayeon was at the practice, but her performance was utter nonsense. The moves were offbeat or in the wrong direction and she was lacking the energy and cockiness she usually had on stage. It derailed an otherwise amazing performance by everyone, especially Xiaoting and Chaehyun who were giving it their all. 

The dance teacher became frustrated and after all her scolding was shrugged off by Dayeon, she called you. 

Now, as the day comes to an end, you ordered Dayeon to stay behind for extra dance lessons. However, when you called her into the large white room with a light brown wooden floor and a mirror wall, the dance teacher had already left. 

“What? Where the fuck is she?” Dayeon curses and turns around to you. 

“I sent her home,” you nonchalantly say while you lay down an old gymnastic mat and set up a tripod next to it. 

“And how am I supposed to practice? Don’t tell me you know the dance inside out,” Dayeon chuckled viciously while imitating what it might look like if you dance. She is giving it her best to piss you off and you are going to use the build up anger for your plan.

“We still practice together,” you say, finally finished with your setup. A camera is filming from the top of the tripod down onto the small mat. Dayeon inspects the odd looking sight and moves next to you. With a jab to the side, she cynically jokes: 

“That is not how you film a dance practice. Oppa must be retarded.”

Before she can laugh, you grab her sides and slam her onto the mat. Dayeon yelps, in shock, in pain, you don’t care. She yelps again when you pull down her black sweatpants. Her simple, white panties get pulled to the side while you immediately invade her pussy with two of your fingers. The brunette moans and tries to wiggle herself free, but you spread her legs forcefully nonetheless.

“Come on! Show the camera your pink lips.”

Her most private part is on perfect display for the camera. When Dayeon tries to cover it with her hands, you slap her pussy. The usually feisty girl becomes shy, her face read all over when you spread her labia and rub her clit.

“Covering your face doesn’t help. To everyone who might watch this, this is Kim Dayeon of Kep1er. She has a pretty cunt, doesn’t she?” “Stop! This is unfair!”

“Her pussy is pretty and of course her face as well, but her character is very rotten, so we will need to teach her a lesson.”

“Hey! What are you—no, ah!”

You lift the light girl up a little and spread her cheeks to also present her tight and twitching asshole. Dayeon tenses again. Although she is the brattiest idol you ever had to work with, it is only now that she gets her first dose of effective humiliation as punishment. 

“Look! It’s Dayeon’s ass and her cute hole. So small~”

“Oppa, no!”

Finally, you tear off her panties and get beneath her. Dayeon is now in a pearly gates position, your cock right at her rear entrance, while you groan into her ear and force her legs to spread. You notice that her thighs are wet and so you search for the source of the slick. Dayeon’s pussy is dripping wet, almost gushing out her juices.

“Don’t tell me,” you hum to her, “you like this?”

“Wh-what?”

“Being humiliated.”

One push, and your cock slides into her ass. The tight ring tenses up around your girth, but you won’t be denied. No amount of pressure Dayeon’s amazing ass extorts onto you will stop you. Slow drags with loud groans from you show the potential viewer how incredible their idol feels. The best part is, you don’t have to tell Dayeon how they would react—her imagination is already doing this part.

“N-no, I hate it!”

Dayeon hides behind the palms of her hands. What she cannot hide however are her girly moans and screeches that boom from her lips to fill the studio and reach the camera’s microphone. You gradually pick up the pace and intentionally crash your pelvis into her ass with such velocity that her skin creates waves and her mind becomes numb. 

She begins to drool from her lips and through your relentless pounding, you nibble her neck as a reward, but also a way to stimulate her more and more. Dayeon’s juices drip down to your pistoning cock and her moans become shorter in intervals and more high-pitched. She is getting close to cumming on camera.

It would be quite a sight to behold, Dayeon’s orgasmic face and body on tape, but you are far from wanting to even give her pleasure in what is meant to be a punishment, a disciplinary measure. A few final thrusts to bring Dayeon to the edge and to make her believe that she will cum, then you pull out. Your hands reach for her bottom and you lift her rear entrance towards the lens.

“Everyone, look! Dayeon is gaping! She has such a big hole, cause she is a whore!”

“Ahh!”

##

Day 3: In front of your best friend!

“Dayeon, my office! Now!” you shout into the speaker of your phone, while slamming the desk before you, “How could you miss another meeting? Didn’t I make my point clear?”

“Well, idiot oppa,” Dayeon responds harshly, “my butt hurt from what you did to me, so I couldn’t go. Your fault!”

“Get over here right now!” 

You end the call and get up from your chair. This time you had to play your anger to hide your excitement for the next stage of your plan for Dayeon. You hastily send a text message to someone who is unlike Dayeon: reliable. If your calculations are correct, they should arrive with perfect timing. 

First is Dayeon. She doesn’t knock and just barges into your room with quick angry footsteps. You lean onto your desk, arms crossed, eyebrows raised and nod towards the door.

“If you’re not gonna knock, you can at least close the damn door.”

“Fuck you, oppa,” Dayeon snippily replies and slams the door shut. The second she does so, you move to the side to unveil your desk. Unlike any other day, it’s not covered with laptops, reports, training instructions, lyrics, data and coffee mugs. This time you set up a screen which plays your and Dayeon’s video from a couple of days ago, while pictures of her either getting facefucked or assfucked lay across the wooden surface. 

“You sick fuck!”

Dayeon scrambles to grab as many pictures as she can find. Each one she lifts reveals a handful of new ones, obscene positions of her on the gymnastic mat or pressed against your door, your cock stuffing her holes. 

You don’t just sit back and watch the play of the panicked girls trying to get rid of the embarrassing evidence, you actually join in and snag a couple of pictures from her or throw them across the room. Like a dog Dayeon jogs towards them, curses at you and searches for a trash can, while you laugh full heartedly. 

“Dayeon, look at the screen! That’s my favorite part.”

Her face fully colored in red, Dayeon takes a look and has to relive the final scene of her porn once more: you showing her empty, twitchting hole while she is begging for an orgasm. 

“You assh—”

“Oppa, you wanted to—oh my Gosh!”

What must feel like a torrent of peaking emotions, bouncing around in Dayeon’s mind and chest like a bouncy ball in a trampoline park, is something close to an orgasmic catharsis for you. Well, almost. This isn’t the peak after all, this is just Chaehyun, Dayeon’s best friend and bandmate, walking straight into your office and seeing everything.

The defiant brunette scrambles to hide all the nudes of her and jumps towards her friend to cover her shocked face, but it’s all for nothing. Chaehyun’s eyes are already glued to the screen, her feet mindlessly moving her towards it. Dayeon screams at the top of her lungs, flailing her arms around wildly, but Chaehyun just inches closer and closer.

“Don’t look, please! Oh my God, please, d-don’t… g-go away!”

“I-is this you, D-Dayeon?”

“Yes, it is,” you answer and cover Dayeon’s mouth with the palm of your hand. You’ve never seen someone pale of shock and red of embarrassment at the same time, so you bathe in what you have accomplished.

“Look at it closely. Isn’t her butthole cute~? The small blobs of cum oozing out? Her teary eyes while I jiggle her thighs and she likes it?”

Dayeon fights half-heartedly. Her struggle might look real to an outsider, but you feel how her muscles go weak and how she becomes hot and bothered. You don’t doubt that this is the most embarrassing moment of her life, but you also grow increasingly sure that she gets off to it. Quite a lot.

Dayeon’s isn’t the only one to get off to it though. Her bestie looks absolutely dazed by how her sparkling eyes look at the looping porn, the repeated pictures of her friend getting plowed in the ass over and over again. Chaehyun’s tongue begins to slowly slip out of her mouth along with some drool, while her hand travels down to the hem of her skirt. This is getting very far.

“S-stop, Chase, pl-please,” Dayeon begs through a gap in your fingers, but you silence her by stuffing them in her bratty mouth.

“I tend to agree,” you suddenly say, against the urge of your lower head to let this play out, “You two should really leave now.”

“What?” Chaehyun says, snapping out of her porn induced trance when you turn off the TV. You nod and push Dayeon against her. The both of them tumble and because they hold onto each other, the also both fall onto the ground, right in between pictures of Dayeon getting face fucked.

“Oh, and Dayeon: help Chaehyun carry out the trash. All of it.”

The awkward, humiliating search for every last picture is a delight for you. Dayeon and Chaehyun are too embarrassed to say a word. They just crawl on the ground and stuff everything they can find into a bin until it overflows. You play increasing annoyance by rolling your eyes when they look at you or groaning.

“Now get going! Make sure no one sees it!”

“You…!”

Dayeon’s shout is stuck in the back of her throat. Her small hands stuff the bin while Chaehyun holds it. She knows she has to walk like this to make sure that the bin can hold all of her indecent pictures. She also knows what she can do, to make all of this end. However, she stays defiant for today.

“You motherfucker!”

##

Day 4: In front of your friends!

“You did a great job today. You can leave early.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I can handle them the last half hour.”

“Thank you a lot boss!”

The dance teacher politely bows down, takes her stuff and leaves the practice room. After making sure she really is gone, you lock the door and turn towards the girls behind you. They have been dancing almost flawlessly now. It’s no surprise, their debut is in ten days and this dance had been the main focus on your schedule the last week. 

Last week was quite delightful. Everyone was at peak concentration and performance. Everyone was punctual and motivated. Everyone gave it their everything, even the delinquents. 

Xiaoting played a couple of harmless pranks which boosted the morale of the group, so you had no need to discipline her. She still went to your house on Sunday and rode you like a champion, while you smacked every inch of her body that is covered by her upcoming stage outfit. The red marks look perfect on her and when she squirts around your cock, you knew she would never be trouble for you again.

Chaehyun has been as professional as Yujin or Mashiro when it came to vocal recording and dance practice. She was super focused in meetings and nothing could distract her. However, her neediness increased tenfold after she saw the video of Dayeon and you. For the first time, she asked to be fucked in the ass and after painful minutes of getting used to it, she was begging to cum from it. Chaehyun wanted your load and you gave her a lot. She also wanted to be face fucked like Dayeon, so you wait after the recording were finished, put a collar on her with the word ‘Whore’ on it and made her cry for an hour straight. 

Dayeon however avoided you. No private meetings, no fuck session, nothing and frankly, there was no need for it. She has been reliable. Your plan is still in place if she fucks up and on this evening, you will test her. 

“Good job, everyone,” you shout while clapping. The song has just ended and four of the five girls look at you with anticipation. Only Dayeon avoids your gaze, her chest breathing heavily from hours of dancing at full speed and focus.

“Yujin,” you continue, “can you tell me what you noticed? Any big improvements or flaws?”

“Well, oppa,” Yujin starts, fidgeting lightly in her place, knowing that lying is not an option,”Chaehyun and I have finally gotten the part in the bridge right, the very tough one.”

“That is phenomenal! I saw it from behind, an impressive move.”

“A-and Xiaoting and Mashiro have been excellent as always, they make it seem effortless.”

“Very well. Anything more?”

“W-well, “Yujin stutters, looking into the large mirror wall at Dayeon, then at the parquet, then at you, “Dayeon messed up the part before the hook and the bridge twice each.”

You ponder for a second, your gaze shifting towards the brunette girl. Dayeon looks straight at you, fake innocence, but real fear in her orbs. Or is it something different that makes her look scintillating like this. She can be a very cute girl, but you have seen the real her over and over again. It’s not cute and not innocent for sure. 

“Okay then. Let’s have another round. Give it your best, everyone, especially at the hard parts. Don’t let yourself be distracted by me. Focus, okay?”

They all nod. You hit a button on a remote and the song restarts. Its fast rhythm is underlined by a quick discography right from the get go. It catches everyone’s attention and so it is important that the girls execute it flawlessly and with their usually impeccable charisma and stage presence. You of course excuse that they are somewhat tired and sweaty this evening, but you’re still ready to be a strict teacher if any mistakes happen.

The center switch from Yujin to Xiaoting is magnificent. Then a short pause hands the spotlight to Yujin and Mashiro dancing on the left and then Chaehyun and Dayeon on the right. Great execution, but then it happens. As everyone moves to their new position before the pre-chorus, Dayeon trips. Her body hits the floor and you immediately stop the music.

“Everyone, get back into position. Don’t let yourself get distracted,” you say brusquely, while stepping behind Dayeon. You yank her upwards at her arm and wrap your arm around her waist to shackle her to yourself. Via remote, you start the song once more, but the four other girls are not moving. Their shocked expressions lay on you and Dayeon.

“The song has already started! Focus, girls, focus!”

They get into rhythm hesitantly as Dayeon fights to free herself for a second. You make her freeze in shock by tearing down her shorts and simultaneously creeping your way up her torso. Your bulge rubs on her ass, covered at first, then released. She begins to realize what’s about to happen. Through the mirror you make eye contact.

No, you can’t be serious, don’t do this to me! she seems to scream with just her eyes.

You feel up her pussy to find that it’s moist and she is not stopping to get wetter. Her friends can see it. Those that are not focused enough on the choreography have already caught on and dance half-heartedly. No stage presence can cover up their shock, especially when you grab Dayeon’s hips and smash her onto your cock.

“Fuck!” Dayeon’s scream makes the lyrics become background noise. Everything except for her is uninteresting and you know that she’d want nothing more than to disappear into a deep hole. You on the other hand want to just fuck her hole, to make her red cheeks burst from the humiliation of being exposed, nude and punished for all her brattiness. To know that she can’t stand being used as a fleshlight and that each of her bandmates can see her thighs jiggle and pussy glistening is your ecstasy. 

“Ah, Oppa, no!” Dayeon moans out, her body twitching and eyes tearing up.

“O-Oppa,” Yujin stutters, “Wh-what are you do-doing?”

You look at the leader who broke the trance of disbelief first and spoke up. The furious thrusts into Dayeon’s tightness stop and you put her in a chokehold.

“I have to discipline Dayeon for messing up so much. Don’t let yourself be distracted, you’re doing great. Restart!”

The music does restart and so does your fucking. With Dayeon’s screams thoroughly choked out, she should not be able to interrupt the music. She will remain a distraction however, which is exactly why her body is in so much heat. You tear off her T-Shirt and the bra beneath, leaving the black in tatters. Dayeon might be more thrilled by this than you. 

You begin to nibble on her neck and use the mirror to watch how the four others can’t help but stare at Dayeon’s breasts bouncing along to your rhythm. Unintentionally, you have adjusted your speed to the rhythm of the title track and thus have fucked her faster than anytime before. She needs some air to keep up with it.

“No!” Dayeon screams the second you stop choking her neck, “Don’t watch! My boobs, don’t!”

Fully seated in her, like Excalibur in its rock, you stop to grope her tits and whisper into her ear. 

“Oh, you don’t want them to look at your? I can change that.”

Give her small tits a smack, then reach down to her legs. In one swooping motion, Dayeon is in a full nelson. Her pussy is now presented, like a turkey on a plate on Thanksgiving Day. You position yourself for more leverage, reach for her head and fuck to your hearts content. Dayeon cries and moans, the lewd sounds of her smooth, moist pussy not covered by the song's bridge.

You catch Chaehyun looking jealous and highly aroused. She is not even trying to have a facade of embarrassed shock like Xiaoting. You are certain the Chinese girl would love to be spanked by you in front of at least one of her friends, probably Yujin. Speaking of Yuji: she trips up everytime you change your speed. When you switched to full nelson, she even forgot her choreo for a second. Mashiro looks disturbed, sad, maybe even fearful. She is extra accurate, but her flush is ridding her of any stage presence. 

Everyone is getting into position to do the finishing pose as the song fades out. Everyone except Dayeon, who is still being bounced up and down your cock. Although she doesn’t squirt like a fire hose, her juices still spot the parquet in her delicious flavor. She is dozing off to a peak in ecstasy, when you suddenly pull out and drop her. On wobbly feed you guide her to her spot. She instinctively does the ending pose.

“Great job, guys! That wraps it up for today.”

You close your zipper and clap as five blood-filled faces stare at you, then Dayeon. The still completely naked idol scrambles to cover herself with hands, then her clothes. You teasingly grab her shorts and hold them high up, out of reach for her, but before it can develop into a playful activity, Yujin speaks up:

“O-Oppa! Y-you can’t just do that!”

“What? I needed to discipline her. You were also bothered by how distracting and lazy she was.”

“B-but not like this!”

Yujin covers her face and turns away. You drop the shorts and Dayeon reaches for them. Before she can put them on, you spread her legs to show everyone the pink of her pussy.

“Yujin, I know you probably think that Dayeon didn’t want this, but I found something out. She actually really enjoys this. Why else would she be this slick?”

You shove a finger inside Dayeon and wiggle it. The brunette can’t hold onto the clothes in her hands and begins to moan cutely. 

“I bet you hated it when I stopped and didn’t fuck you to orgasm, right?”

Dayeon shakes her head. 

“You are lying~ I bet you wished they would all stop hiding behind their hands—”

Dayeon shakes her head, slowly.

“—and watch as you squirt in front of them. You want them to watch! You like being fucked in front of people. You are an exhibitionist.”

Dayeon shakes in orgasm. 

“Yes! Look at me! Look at my pussy!”

Waves of clear liquid follow her first tsunami that splashes all over your hand and right before her friends. Xiaoting and especially Chaehyun are just standing and drooling, Yujin is a bit more apprehensive, while Mashiro tries to walk away. Through the mirror wall however, she still peeks at Dayeon trembling on your inserted fingers and squirting out every last drop. 

#

“A-are we finally done?” 

Dayeon’s question is barely audible in the night sky of Seoul. The front of the dance studio is only illuminated by the city's light pollution. White and orange light reflects off from the wall and onto Dayeon, who crouches next to you on the still warm concrete. She is the last one to leave. 

“Depends.”

After you sorted things out with Yujin, she and Mashiro went out first. The two didn’t like your method but couldn’t deny the results. Dayeon has never been more honest and lately, she was almost as obedient as a perfectly trained puppy. 

Xiaoting left as well, leaving a note that said You sicko, what the hell have you done? I want to punch you for showing this Mashiro… but also: spank my ass in front of Chaehyun or Dayeon one day, pretty please? Make it redder than my face today!

You had to force Chaehyun to leave. She was cock hungry to no end, but wanted to keep it more private. You only got her to leave after promising to make a wish come true. Before walking out the door, she kissed your cheek and whispered: Fuck my face into door, like you did to Dayeon. Then, do the things from the video with me. A whole night~

“Depends on what?”

Now, it’s only you and Dayeon. You sit down next to her, not wanting to ask to her dumb question, but unlike in the past, she didn’t sound sarcastic. Maybe she genuinely had no clue what you meant.

“Well, it depends if you finally behave.”

“I-I will! I promise to come to every meeting, learn extra hard, a-and rap—”

“Dayeon,” you say and put a finger on her quickly moving lips, “I want you to make this comeback the best thing out there. Use your skill and stage presence to blow everyone away and rock this era, okay? You’ve been getting in your own way and I can’t allow that.”

She blushes and looks away. A car passes by. Its light reflects in her brown orbs. Dayeon can be such a pretty and adorable girl, especially in a moment like this. A moment no one gets to just experience. A moment that makes you shake your head. Rule No. 1, never fall in love, even if they are perfect. Perfect idol, perfect face, perfect kinks. You can’t stumble like this.

“Don’t say this like you’re some white knight who did all these crazy things just to teach me this stupid lesson,” Dayeon giggles and pokes your cheek. You didn’t notice how close you got to her, but this was a good reminder to maybe get some distance between the two of you. Especially in public.

“You’re right. Making these videos and fucking you in front of others isn’t really knight like behaviour, but if I made you rethink your careless attitude and got you back on track, does it really matter? The means, I mean.”

Dayeon smirks and gets into a more comfortable position. Sitting on the ground, on knee up, her chin on it, the other leg stretched out. 

“You’re an idiot. What if I didn’t learn? What if I just miss the next meeting and fuck up the choreo in the last dance practice? What will you do then, Mr. White Knight?”

“I’d realize that you don’t care about your career. I’d order you into my office, remove your clothes violently and then put a choker with the word ‘Whore’ on it around your neck. On a leash, I’d guide you through the office. Everyone would see your bare body, every hole, along with your face. Randomly, I’d finger fuck you till you squirt and spank you for it.”

You get closer to her. Her breath is tickling you as she listens attentively, every sense of her body taking you in. You continue in a deeper tone.

“Imagine as they take pictures of you, videos of your ass, of the marks on your tits, of your blissful face with the choker beneath. This would not be enough. We have to go the extra mile. You know the reporters outside. When they have all gathered, I’d guide you outside and present you like a newly acquired object, before testing you. Live. The hardest thrusts that will make you squirm, scream and cum while the cameras flash and clatter. Your voice will be in the media, the greatest scandal in K-Pop history is Kim Dayeon as she screams for more cock as everyone watches.”

You stop. Her lips are close. Her thighs are close. Her smell is close. She is a heater in overdrive, her eyes barely open and her heartbeat louder than the next car passing by. She doesn’t say a word. Instead she moans. Arousal instead of fear, imagination of glorious pleasure instead of a nightmare. The greatest humiliation is in truth the greatest victory.

“I bet your idol career and public status is more important than that.”

She touches your chest. You can’t get out now. You’re stuck with her, the magnet that attracts you stronger than anyone ever has. She can’t possibly follow you on this one.

“Maybe?”

She kisses you.

“Really?”

You reach for the hem of her jeans.

“Maybe.”

(A/N: I lost the OG pic I wanted to use, but found this while searching. A very hot one, damn Dayeon)

#kpop smut #female idol smut #kep1er smut #kepler smut #dayeon smut #kim dayeon #kepler dayeon #girl group smut #male reader smut #xiaoting smut #chaehyun smut #male reader insert

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment. 

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly. 

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches. 

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.” 

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest. 

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement. 

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room. 

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up. 

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently. 

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric? 

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends. 

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back. 

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her. 

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.” 

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school. 

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High. 

Cut all ties now. You have two days. 

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon. 

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her. 

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.” 

“It’s none of your business, Zara.” 

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders. 

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym. 

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle. 

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left. 

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand. 

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to  catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning. 

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door. 

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):

@immadatmostthings  @thaticecreambish  @hee-hee-haw  @dearnataliealoveletter  @wasteofspacze  @dcml04  @bbigbbrainn  @dirtydiavolo  @vanhakirja  @rinzyx05  @misselsbells06  @ialexabsuniverse  @im-a-depressed-gay  @energy-drinkk  @mothra-main  @i-need-hugs  @dragons-lurk-here  @katj733  @m4r-s  @vievi  @dykeragee  @waterstrawberry  @aplaintart  @kakamiissad  @myunfinishedsymphony  @nagitokinnieissad  @autumnpleaves  @justanothergirlwithdemons  @zachariethememerie  @moon-asia  @m0on-blue  @strawberrysodababy  @akikko-yataro  @haikkeiji  @shiningsunrises  @cinnamonmochi  @queen-turtle-boiii  @imanewsoul  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelicaschuyler-church  @vixenfoxpup  @ella-ivanov  @shio-yuki  @mosstea-png  @ijustshatbricks

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #sbi au #sleepy bois inc au #sister reader #sibling reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #tubbo x reader #platonic #reader is a lesbian #gay reader #high school au #tw: anxiety #tw: panic attack #tw: swearing #tw: doctor #tw: stalking #tw: blackmail #tw: nonconsensual pictures #tw: body dysmorphia #tw: self loathing #tw: toxic friendship #tw: injury #tw: bullying

[yutahoes]

Sakura

(Part Two)

One - Two

genre : Chaptered, Fluff

pairing : childhood friends: soccer player! Nakamoto Yuta x single mom! Reader (Y/N)

word count : 2.3k words

You’ll always be his Sakura.

taglist :  @ailoveyuta @loona-4-eva @aiforyuu @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @url-lindo-sexy @nuoyipeach @aaasteroidsky  @readers-posts @delightfultacobread @bby-kji9 @a-bts-world​ @mel-yjh​ @yeolsechanhun​ @yutazen01 ​

It was the summer before his third grade when his dad announced that they will be moving to Seoul because of a business opportunity. The then eight-year-old Yuta hated that he had to leave his friends just because he can't stay in Japan. He hated that he had to transfer schools and learn a new language. Why do they have to move to another country? Why not move to another city instead? 

When the teacher introduced him to the class of third graders, he just glared at his Korean classmates who were looking at him in wonder. He doesn't want to be friends with them. He doesn't want to talk. He doesn't want to learn a new language. He's Japanese, why would he speak Korean? The teacher told him - or at least that was what he understood - to sit on a vacant chair at the back of the class. His classmates were staring at him. He's the new guy, it's normal. But he hated the attention. 

It was lunch when he decided to eat on the school's rooftop. He wasn't surprised that it was locked but a girl was drawing on the door of the rooftop. Isn't she in his class? The girl seated in front of him? A crayon drawing of stick figures made him curious, what is that? 

A certain symbol caught his attention, a straight line with a beak-like image and wings at the end held by a stickman he believed is a girl because of the triangular picture below her body. "Sakura?" He asked and the girl jolted in surprise, quickly hiding what she was doing. "Cardcaptor Sakura?" 

The girl was wide-eyed, looked at her drawing then at him. He noticed how her eyes twinkle at that even if the area isn't well-lit. Or is it because she just cried? "You're that Japanese guy." She said in Korean and he only caught the words 'Japanese' and 'guy' so she's probably referring to him. "Do you know Cardcaptor Sakura?" He only nodded. It is a hit in Japan, everyone knows Sakura. "I like Cardcaptor Sakura!" She exclaimed with a bright smile. 

That was the first time he saw that girl who loves Sakura. The first classmate who talked to him as if they spoke the same language. He remembered handing her a comic of her favorite cartoons the next day and she introduced herself as Y/N, even asking him along the lines of 'Can you teach me Japanese?' and 'Do you want to be friends with me?' 

His initial plan of not knowing Korean or not talking to people backfired. He wanted to have a real conversation with this Sakura girl. His first Korean friend. 

Yuta would remember teaching her hiragana every lunchtime, on their own place by the door of the rooftop and she would teach him hangul in exchange. Before class, she would tell him stories about what happened to Sakura from the episode yesterday as if he didn't watch the same show. After class, they would spend some time in the playground waiting for her mom to pick her up. 

She was also the person who encouraged him to try out for the soccer team. Unlike in Japan, soccer isn't a required PE in Korea so his classmates were amazed that he knew how to play soccer, even defeating some older kids. "Yuta, sugoi!" She exclaimed that made him smile, a real genuine smile he never showed to everyone. "You're handsome when you smile. You should smile more often." It was her who made him smile more. Just because he wanted her to call him handsome once again. 

In fourth grade, the two were so close that she spent time in their home and him on hers. Sometimes she would even sleep at their place when her mom has to stay all night in the hospital. He found out that she doesn't have a dad, he left them when she's just a baby and that she would always cry in her sleep looking for her dad. Kids weren't very welcoming with the idea of a broken family either and he would often see her crying on the stairs to the rooftop. 

And now, she's the one who has children. A mom. He never imagined that he will see her as a mom in the future. He wondered if she still cries for her dad. He wonders if she still knew how to speak or write Japanese. He wonders if she could call him 'handsome' again. 

Yuta promised that he wouldn't stay that long in Korea, he wanted to leave as soon as the wedding was over and he had every reason why. But Mark Lee, his secretary, thinks that he needs to stay for a couple more days and think of it as a vacation before the big soccer leagues happen. 

"Your alma mater is inviting you to teach the soccer club," Mark noted as he stared at the email by the administration of his former elementary school. The place where he honed his soccer playing skills. 

The place where he met her. 

The younger guy was surprised when the soccer player agreed to the said invitation. Even forcing him to do it today before he changes his mind. Luckily, he doesn't have any schedules that day.

The school changed a lot. Well, it's been years since he last visited the place. A lot of buildings surrounded the soccer field and he watched how elementary kids played. They look so small or is it because he's used to watching the adults play? The principal greeted him and introduced him to the soccer coach who looked so cocky. But instead of heading to the soccer field, he asked the principal if he could look upstairs. 

His feet dragged him to the staircase to the rooftop. Their meeting place. The door changed color, erasing her drawing that they maintained for years. From the stick figures to an actual 2D drawing of Sakura and Syaoran. 

He wished he could just erase his memory of her as well. The same way as the drawings are erased. 

It was free period when he went down to the classrooms and saw little kids in the school's hallway. Are they this small? "It's because you don't have a dad." He heard a child say and saw that it's a huge kid, probably a third-grader, in his jersey. "The soccer team doesn't accept kids who don't have dads." Well, elementary didn't change. 

When his gaze caught the smaller boy he's talking to, a sudden feeling of recognition hit him. Jae. Y/N's son. "My dad lives abroad." He nodded, he's correct about that. 

"Dads should watch your soccer games." The older kid claimed, making Yuta shake his head. Are children’s behavior like this? Well, he really should refrain from making one of his own. "Accept it, Jae. You can never be good for the soccer team." 

"Yah!" Someone shouted from the side. "Stop bullying my brother." Yuta smiled as he watched the mini version of the girl occupying his mind shout at the bigger kids who were hurting her brother. She's totally different from her. "Did your dad teach you that?" 

The bigger kid only glared when the soccer coach called for him, and he quickly called him 'daddy'. So that is where his confidence came from. His gaze returned to the siblings, Jae was holding his sister's arm saying sorry that she had to get angry. Yuta smiled, that's their mom's attitude. Always apologetic. How can these two be a spitting image of her? Truly, they're her children. 

"Yuta Nakamoto," Jae called before he could flee the place. He greeted the young boy then smiled at the girl who was looking at him in curiosity. "I told you he's eomma's friend, noona. He knows my name." Yuta chuckled at that. He just met his youngest fanboy. 

The younger girl pulled her brother behind her that surprised Yuta. "Eomma said not to talk to strangers." The older smirked. She's really different from her mom. 

"Should we call your mom? Can you give me her number?" The girl shook her head and Yuta nodded, already texting Taeyong. He responded with her number and Yuta quickly called the said phone number, "Hi Y/N. It's Yuta." Both kids were staring at him, "I'm here in Jae's school. Can I bring them to the mall?" 

"Ahjusshi, can I see if it's my mom?" The girl asked and Yuta handed his phone to her. "Eomma?" The girl stared at him in wonder as she heard her mom's voice. "Then can we go with this ahjusshi?" She glared at him for a moment then nodded as if she’s talking to her mom. “She wants to talk to you.” 

“Yuta, you don’t have to do this if you’re busy.” But he wanted to. He wanted to spend time with them and learn about her as a mom. “Just message me where you are. I’ll pick them up.” He agreed. If only he could spend time with her as well. 

It was Jae who’s most excited when they reached the mall. The older girl stayed a few feet away from the two of them. Maybe she’s not interested. But really, she’s a tough nut to crack. He discovered that Jae wanted to play soccer but his mom doesn’t want him to, saying that he’s too young to play. So Yuta brought him to a shop where they sell sports shoes. “I’ll go talk to your mom. But for now, wear these soccer shoes,” he claimed while tying the younger boy’s shoelaces that made him beam. Jae hugged Yuta, thanking him for the shoes. “You’re welcome, bud.” 

Yuta realized that he didn’t know the older girl’s name. What was it? Did Y/N mention her name? To be safe, he just asked Jae about it. “Cherry,” he called then walked to where she was, staring at the skating shoes. “Do you want one?” She shook her head mumbling that their mom would get mad. “Besides, it’s not snowing.” He nodded. 

“We can go ice skating...” 

“You’re not my dad.” That made Yuta stop. Of course, he’s not. “Stop acting that you care about me or Jae. You’re just like the other guys.” Other guys? “You’ll leave me and Jae. You’ll leave eomma.” She’s a difficult nut to crack. 

Yet she’s so different when she’s next to her brother. The cold eyes were changed into warmness when her brother asked if they could play in the ball pit. She looked like a child, smiling at the younger as they bounced at the trampoline. She looks exactly like her. How can two children, both from the same parents, have so different personalities? 

He was just watching them, texting Y/N where he is, checking from time to time the two kids playing with the others in the ball pit area. "Hey," Y/N called, sitting beside Yuta on the mall bench. She smiled seeing the two playing. "Did they tire you?" 

Yuta laughed. "It's fine. They're cool." There was silence, a comfortable silence. It's awkward to see her now. A lot of things changed. "Jae has the same personality as you, that's cute." She giggled. "Cherry looks like you." 

Y/N nodded. "I'm glad she talks to you." 

"It was hard, honestly." He confessed and again, she giggled. That sound. He missed her laugh. "I think she wants to go figure skating." That surprised Y/N. "And Jae wants to play soccer."

"He's too young. He'll get hurt with the bigger kids." Yuta was about to revolt at that. "I remembered when you played with the bigger kids back in eighth grade." That was one of his worst plays ever. Until now, he can feel how hurt he is. 

She confessed that she doesn't know anything about sports that's why she's a little worried about sending her kids to the sports clinic that made him smile. She's such a mom. "I'll train Jae," Yuta announced that made her look at him. "I have to stay in Spain for two months for the league then I'll come back and teach Jae soccer." He explained. "I'll help Cherry too." 

"Yuta, you don't have to." 

"I want to." He held her hand. "Please." 

"Why are you holding hands?" Cherry asked that made Yuta let go of his hold on her. 

The older just gave her daughter a glare that made Yuta laugh. They look alike, the resemblance is too uncanny if you see them now yet they’re so different. “Eomma!” Jae called, reaching out to hug his mom. “I had fun today.” And she smiled at him. “Yuta samchon is so cool.” 

“He bought you shoes?” She asked, checking the new kicks on her son’s feet. Jae claimed that he also bought Cherry one that made the older girl glare at Yuta. “Did you say thank you?” Both nodded. 

Yuta smiled at them. They do look like a happy family. “I’ll get going. I’ll see you when I get back from Spain.” Y/N nodded. Yuta asked for a hug and Jae was the only one who’s ecstatic to hug him. Cherry rolled her eyes that made the older guy laugh. As expected. “Come on, Y/N, a hug.” He said, hands extended for the older girl. 

The girl giggled before giving him a tight hug. His hand rested on her back then the other on the back of her head, caressing her hair. “You’re doing a great job being a mom, Sakura.” 

She laughed before muttering the words, “I’m proud of you, Syaoran.” 

Watching the three of them head to a different way opposite him, he wished he would have another chance to bond with them. He would love to be with them. Maybe having children isn’t too bad. 

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Three

#yuta fluff #yuta nakamoto fluff #yuta nakamoto #Yuta #chaptered

[octania]

Tamaki Amajiki x Reader (18+, NSFW)

Tamaki x Reader - SMUT

Word count: 3.6 k

Short description: You were sleepwalking all your life, waking up in strange places..but when you wake up in Tamakis embrace, you know your most intimate dreams are just beginning.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW.

______________________________________________

You were sleep waking your whole life, it was nothing new. Sometimes you would wake up in the kitchen, realizing the dream about you eating ice cream on the beach is only half true. You were holding a spoon filled with creamy delight, but there was no beach. Other times when you dreamed about playing tennis with your friends, just to realize you are standing in your back yard in the middle of the night, holding a branch instead of a racket, waving around it like an idiot. One time you would have sworn you were having the most romantic time of your life in the rain, only to wake up in your bathroom, standing in the shower, fully clothed, with the water pouring on your head. You found all of those moments funny, but soon it would become your biggest fear. You were on your final year of education at the U.A.. Everything was going fine, you had good friends, good grades, bright future…no boyfriend sadly, but that was partially not your fault, not that you knew that. You had a crush. Hell, even more than a crush. You were in love with a same person for all three years of your education. Tamaki Amajiki. His withdrawn attitude, shy approach, inability to look you straight in the eye until he barely uttered your name out of shame, melted you every time. Although you weren’t as shy as he was, due to little information about his love interests and his mysterious behavior, you could never infer how he felt, and you didn’t want to risk and say with something that would make him retreat deeper into his shell than he already did. And it's because of that to lose him also as a friend. But now, after the villains attacked your school’s first graders, and after the teachers ’council decided it would be best to move all students to campus, for the first time you were sure you felt the same amount of anxiety as Tamaki. You didn’t want your episodes with sleepwalking to come to the surface in front of everyone at school. It wouldn't be so scary if you knew that a locked door would be a barricade enough so you  couldn't break through, but your sleepwalking was on a whole other level. You felt more awake than in a dream and everything you did was closely related to reality, only it was a different environment, such as a dream of eating ice cream on the beach. You weren't comforted by the fact that you have your own room, when you're sure to get out of it. Unfortunately, the decision was made and at the end of the week you found yourself in your new room on campus. The first couple of nights you did not sleep, you tried to absorb your surroundings as well as possible and find an effective solution to your problem, at least temporarily. You went so far as to order all sorts of gadgets over the internet that served as traps for the sleepwalking person, and when activated, the various annoying loud sounds that the gadgets produced result in the person waking up. After the third night, you couldn't take it anymore. After a hot shower, you put on your lace see-through nightgown and a pair of black panties. You loved sexy lingerie, it was your little dirty secret. You used to dream of certain teeth pulling those scanty panties off of you, across your legs, all the way to your ankles, to clear the way for his tongue. You shook your head to drive away those dirty thoughts about Tamaki. You were too tired, you had no strength for pleasuring yourself. You fell on the soft bed and before you even noticed, you fell into a deep sleep.

Tamaki couldn't sleep, and this change of environment was too much for him. So many people around him, so many new things, so much pressure… no, he didn't have the slightest bit of sleep. He couldn't even be in his new room anymore, it seemed insecure. He had not yet fully come to terms with the new space, so he decided to walk through the deserted corridors, because only then did he enjoy the walk. It was about  3 a.m., no one was in the hallways, everyone was sound asleep. He walked down a long hallway with a line of doors. It seemed like they go to infinity, only to reach a corner, after which the same scene continued. The building that was intended for students was huge, and with the fact that they were still working on the new building, for now the boys and girls were housed under the same roof. He decided to go to a room that was intended for socializing, something like a living room where students had a TV, tables, couches… And other necessities to spend quality time together. Fortunately for Tamaki, he will not enjoy it by himself in silence. Or so he thought. The moment he reached the living room, he heard a rustle behind him. No, this sounded more like mumbling. He swallowed some saliva at the thought of someone else beside him, quickly merging with the shadows in the corner. He watched as the person emerged from the darkness into the moonlight breaking through the windows. For a brief moment he forgot how to breathe, as his jaw dropped opened and his heart slammed in his rib cage like a hammer. The girl he knew well… or better yet, the girl who had caught his eye a long time ago, now walked down the hall in nothing more than pieces of clothing that couldn't even be called that because they barely covered anything of her body. He forced himself to blink a couple of times, to make sure this wasn't one of his most intimate dreams. No, he was wide awake and this was a living nightmare.

 He didn't know what to do, how to disappear from this place, escape before you saw him, but he had nowhere to go. If you turn around, you could certainly see him without a problem in this dark corner where he found refuge. After a few moments of disbelief and confusion at the fact that you were walking half-naked without any shame in the common hallways of the dormitories, he squinted at your face. Your eyes were tightly closed, your movements disoriented, your steps slow, and you mumbled something under your breath and he couldn't make out the words.

It's not possible..no, it can't be..there is no way she is sleepwalking.

 The realization that you were unconscious here for some reason put even more stress on him. He wasn't sure how to approach this. He couldn't escape, he couldn't leave you here alone at the mercy of your condition, but he couldn't even approach you, for God's sake, you were almost naked. He could feel his cheeks firing up after  he had to close his eyes abruptly as they fled onto the thin fabric on your chest. I can't leave her here, someone can see her, I have to take her back to her room.  He did not gather courage, but just walked towards you without thinking, because if you had allowed himself even one thought, this would have been impossible to perform. He approached you from behind, looking directly at the back of your head, not an inch lower. His hands were shaking, but he held them out to your shoulders. Innocent as he was, he decided to slowly lead you to your room, which of course he knew where it was because it was the room of his crush about who he had been silent about for so long, without waking you up. Aside from knowing that he couldn’t stand the amount of shame that would ensue if you looked him in the face after this situation, he knew he shouldn’t wake people who were sleepwalkers, at least he had heard that. Lightly as he could, he pushed his broad palms over your shoulders, holding them gently. As soon as he felt your soft skin on his, his heart climbed to his throat, and he silenced his deep breathing. Just when he decided to take the first step forward, he felt a foreign body on his stomach. He looked down instinctively, only to see your hands on his shirt. Your fingers played with his buttons. When you unbuttoned one, he looked up, only to realize you are now facing him. Your eyes were still tightly closed and your face was asleep. He didn't know what to say, and he could not do anything  because you were already leaning towards him, your hands traveling across the surface of the rough material of his shirt that reluctantly hid his tense muscles underneath. You crossed over his firm abdomen, below his ribs, following his body lines all the way to his wide shoulders where you decided to sink your nails in his skin.

You didn't mean to stop, this was to your mutual satisfaction anyway. The only thing you didn’t know was that your sleepwalking had put you in an awkward situation again, but this time on a scale you couldn’t have expected. But you could dream, oh and dream you did. Behind your closed eyes, the same man was in front of you, but you were in the privacy of his room and you both knew exactly what you were doing. You loved dreams like this, you adored them better said. They seemed so real. His touch was as real, his body so palpable. You buried your head under his neck, taking a deep breath. Otherwise you could not smell in your dreams, so far your senses did not play in your favor, so even in your sleep you were surprised when you felt a minty smell of shampoo. It was just how you liked it, manly but still fresh. You couldn't be happier with this fantasy, even the sound of his deep breathing was more melodic. You had to see if the sense of taste would be richer this time as well. You raised your head, crossing your cheek over his. His skin was soft, freshly shaved. You reached the corner of his lips, catching his gaze. Dark eyes looked at you patiently, directly, the way he probably wouldn't in reality, but you didn't mind, you had other goals. Without waiting long, you pressed your rosy lips to his. They were soft as cotton. The warmth of his sighs crossed your tongue as you tried to find his. He tasted sweet, like chocolate, as he just ate it not so long ago. The warmth of his lips suddenly disappeared. You didn't like it, you tried to put your lips back on his, but you couldn't move.

 You heard something ... his voice. Strangely, he didn't talk. The shape of his face began to blur as you felt the discomfort travel through your body. You blinked a few times. At first, as the image formed in front of your eyes, you weren’t sure what was going on, because his face was still in front of you. However, his expression was not calm and his gaze was not  direct, this expression was more appropriate for him, it was the embodiment of shame, his cheeks were flushed, and his dark eyes under his eyelids looked everywhere only  not at you.

"(Y / N) .. w-wake up..please .." - he stammered again,  forcing himself to look at you to make sure you finally woke up. And you were wide awake indeed. Your faces were only inches apart, your hands in the same place as in your dream, firmly nailed to his back as those fingernails were selfishly driven into his skin with  the intention of leaving their mark there. It didn't take you long to figure out what really happened, it was as clear as day, only if someone told you that you would be able to get hold of the real Tamaki made of flesh and blood on your dream adventures, you wouldn't believe it. Now, after you were sure you had actually tasted him with your lips a while ago, and that the glow created by the saliva that was on his lips was the proof, you didn’t want this opportunity to go to waste.

“Tamaki… thank you for waking me. I have a bad sleepwalking problem. ”- you whispered, looking up to him with your doe-like eyes, but you didn’t move an inch nor did you let go of him. You don’t know how you got here or how did he find you, but hay, he didn’t push you away, and that must mean something.

“It’s..it’s ok. I'm sorry for waking you, I k-know you are not s-supposed to do that when people are… are sleepwalking, a-and I tried to lead you back to y-your room but… b-ut .. ” he paused. You could feel his body tense and his shoulders tremble. His cheeks glowed red and his lips quivered at the memory of a moment ago. He couldn't look more perfect then this, and you knew exactly why he stopped talking. You could not resist, you had to push him beyond his limits.

"But? What happened? ”- you decided to play dumb. When he didn’t answer, you increased the grip of your fingernails on his back, your hands returning to his chest. He swallowed some  saliva when he felt your fingernails now playing with his buttons, and you pressed your body against his.

"Tell me Tamaki..but what?" - you moaned shamelessly looking into his lips. You could feel where his gaze wandered for a moment, because you made your next move on purpose. You pressed your breasts to his chest, as they peeked out your thin nightdress, almost falling out. You knew that slutty move would make his knees shake. And they did. He bit his lip, taking a few steps away from you until his back slammed into the table. He closed his eyes, but you wouldn't let go. You held  tightly onto his shirt, following in his footsteps. You weren’t violent, but after you felt his semi hard dick on your abdomen a moment before when you were leaning on him, you knew he liked you, just he was all too shy to admit it. But you waited three years because of that same shyness, and now you have him here, you are not letting go. You decided to get him out of that shell once and for all. 

"Is it because I kissed you?" -you asked in a gentle tone, as one hand touched the back of his neck, caressing him lightly. He shivered under your touch, grabbing the edge of the table, squeezing it tightly.

“I’m so sorry (Y / N)! I had no right..I-I didn’t mean to. ”- he apologized for something he wasn't really guilty of. You couldn't help but smile at his adorable nature. You patted the back of his neck a few more times, running your hand over his ear. He shivered, as if you had touched a place that is very sensitive.

“Shh… it is ok. You don’t have to be sorry. ”- you said moving closer, pushing between his legs as he leaned on the table. When you settled between his thighs, you nuzzled his chin with your nose, going up to his lips once again.

"Because I'm not sorry." - you brushed his lips with yours, lightly scratching his pointy ear with your nail. You could feel his heart beating maniacally under the hand that was still on his chest. You pressed your lips to his again without warning, biting his lower lip before then licking it with your tongue. The chocolate flavor again stimulated your taste buds, as your saliva mixed. You could barely breathe between kisses as thirty as you kissed him, but he was no better. Even though he was falling embarrassed as hell, your thirsty kisses drove him insane. For a moment you even felt him bite your lower lip like you bit his. The erotic dance of your tongues made a electric feeling flow though his entire body, sending blood down his groin. He could feel the pressure under his jeans when his dick got hard. He panicked for a moment, not knowing what you would say if you saw his body reaction. He tried to move backwards again, but the table would not allow that, and so wouldn’t you.Pressing on him made you realize what was happening a few moments ago, and it made you respond in the same manner. The thought of him hard for you made your thin lace panties soaked with your juices, even sliding down your thighs. You moved your hips a bit, wanting to stimulate yourself with your movements, but also to rub on his covered dick to tease him even more. You moaned in his mouth, making him reach for your hips, grabbing the light fabric in his hands. You were pleased, rewarding him with yet another moan but this time, it was his name that you moaned with pure lust.

"Tamaki…" - you started moving your hips faster, more sensual, rubbing more and more on him, while he controlled your movements with his hand. You couldn't wait any longer, you lowered his hand to his zipper. You unbuttoned them, unraveling the zipper, heading straight to the prize. Your fingers wrapped around a rock hard cock. You could feel the thick veins on it, as it twitched. His head was dark pink, almost pulsating, as you saw a drop of precum coming out of it. You touched the sticky liquid with the tip of your finger, smearing it around it.

“(Y / N)…” - he moaned your name, squeezing you tighter. You lost it when you heard you name in his mouth. You grabbed his shirt, pulling him so  he gets up from the table. You turned around, swapping places. You jumped on the table, spreading your legs and lifting your nightgown slightly with one hand.

“I want you in me Tamaki.” - you said while your see-through panties were now exposed, and you thighs shining under the light because of your juices on them. You pulled him by the hand, making him come closer. You reaching for his thick cock, pushing your panties aside to let him have a full excess.

“I c-can’t (Y / N)… I don’t h-have a co..condom.” - he stammered as you gently raised your hips, sliding your wet self on his dick over your panties. You reached for his length, pumping it a couple of times as your juices made your hand slide across his skin with ease.“

It’s ok…” - you moaned as you pushed your panties to the side, placing his tip on your dripping entrance. When he felt your juices on his dick and heard your words, he could not hold back no more. He started pushing his harden dick between your tight walls, making them stretch to the brim, so he can go fully in. You cried out his name, only to feel his palm on your mouth after it.

“S-someone will hear us… ahhh.” - he barely said after the entered you fully. He was so big he almost reached your womb, and when he moved you felt a light pain as your pussy was still trying to remember his size. You wrapped your legs around his hips, making him go faster, ignoring the pain. You wanted him for so long, and now you have him. You started to lick his fingers while his palm was on your mouth as you muffled under it.

"Harder Tamaki..please." - he opened his eyes and bit his lip when he heard your words. Although the embarrassed  did not come off his face, he grabbed your leg, taking you below the knee to make sure you would stay in place when he accelerated the pace. And, oh boy, he did speed up. His thrust became almost violent, slamming his groin between your legs, now even pulling you more on him. You screamed under his hand, pushing your hands around his neck to hold tight as your hips were slamming on the table. You could feel him slamming against your G sport, making you squirm.

“T-that’s it, good boy, go all in.” - you whispered in his ear, making him crazy, pushing him to the edge. His dick became even more hard as your slimy walls clenched around it, sucking him even more in. His sensitive tip was hitting the beginning of your womb, making it even more stimulated, getting him closer to the climax. He felt he was close, as he tried to pull out, but your legs wound not let him.

“(Y / N) I will cum..please, I can’t hold anymore. ”- he pleaded, but your tight grip didn’t get any looser. You were close yourself, driven mad with lust, as his thrusts over stimulated your clit, and now you felt tingling all over your body. You could not let go, you felt if you do you would die. So your nails sank into his back, pulling him on you, as your legs pushed him more in. You gazed at him seductively, as your cheeks were now red as an apple.

“Cum in me. Please Tamaki. " - you whispered.That was the last straw. He could not take it no more. Hearing you say it and feeling how your insides crave his sperm was more then he could take. He grabbed you by the waist, slamming so hard the table barely stayed in its place. You squirmed with pleasure, your eyes rolled back when you felt him filling you with warm sperm. He didn't stop, he kept fucking you until the last drop came out, making you take it all it.

#suneater #suneater x reader #suneater/reader #tamaki #tamaki amajiki #tamaki amakiji #tamaki angst #tamaki smut #tamaki x y/n #tamaki x you #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki x you #mha #mha tamaki #mha smut #mha tamaki amajiki #mha amajiki #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bhna #bhna smut #bhna tamaki #bhna tamaki x reader #bhna x reader #bhna x you #bhna thirst #tamaki thirst #smut #18+

[nillawrites]

MACARONI & GLUE [Teacher!Henry]

In which Mr.Cavill’s kindergartners come up with a master plan to set him and Ms.Y/L/N up.

— A/N: hi! this is the first oneshot im posting here, if you recognize it it’s because this is actually something i’d previously posted for somebody else on a diff acc but just rewrote it for henry haha. anyways, requests are open and i plan to fill them within the next week! thanks for reading!

— WORDS: 1.8k

— WARNINGS: n/a

-

Henry shuffled behind the wall as he eyed the woman just down the hall. Her legs looked great in her beige skirt as she bent down to give each of her first graders high fives as they walked into the classroom. Her smile was bright and her love for her students radiated throughout the entire school, brightening everyone’s day. Brightening his day.

When all of her students reentered the classroom, she stood to dust off her outfit and was about to follow behind them, but something caught her eye. A mysterious brown curl peeked out from the wall just a few feet away. She chuckled to herself and shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Good morning, Mr.Cavill.” Y/N called out, knocking him off his balance a little. He presumed he was being sneaky but that obviously wasn’t the case, and now embarrassed wasn’t nearly a good enough word to describe how he felt in this moment.

He pocketed his hands in his khakis and stepped out from behind the wall, a bashful smile on his lips to match hers. The blush on the burly man’s cheeks was impossible to miss and he swayed back and forth on his toes as he replied huskily, “Good morning to you too, Ms.Y/L/N.”

She considered teasing him a bit more but decided against it when one of Henry’s own students came up to tug on the side of his tucked-in button up shirt. Henry looked down at the brunette boy who was staring right back at him with expectant eyes considering he hadn’t come back to the classroom in all but a minute.

Henry lifted his head back to Y/N as he pointed towards his door and began to back away with a lopsided grin, insisting, “I should probably get back to my own class now, eh?”

Y/N shut her eyes and grinned, “Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea.”

By the time she’d finished her sentence the little boy had pulled him completely behind the wall but she didn’t fail to hear his “See you at lunch!” before his door was slammed shut. She rolled her eyes and laughed before ducking into her own classroom.

Henry tortured himself over that moment for the rest of that morning. His kindergartners were clever enough to realize something was wrong with him when they noticed him staring down at his demo macaroni art project, his face stoic. While the classroom buzzed with life around him, he remained sitting at the too-tiny table with a few of his other students, cheeks still ablaze.

And the brunette boy from earlier, Liam, knew exactly why.

“I think teacher has a crush on miss Y/L/N.” He said to his friend nonchalantly, hands messy as he attempted to expertly place a piece of macaroni onto his masterpiece.

His friend Jamia perked up at his claim, her eyes going wide and ginger curls bouncing. “How do you know?”

Liam shrugged, tipping his Elmer’s glue bottle and letting out a lot more than intended. “He acts weird around her!”

Jamia smiled and swooned, holding her hands to her heart. “Are they together?”

Liam only shook his head, peacefully continuing to add onto his art. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Henry stood that he came up with an idea. The little boy ordered Jamia to get him some construction paper and stickers, the girl excitedly coming back with the “secret supplies” a minute later.

He explained the plan to his friend and they both got to work, Liam leading the operation. His tongue stuck out from his lips as he tried to keep his hands steady, writing out a few words to the best of his ability. He tried to sound out the words which helped him a little, and when they were done, the two folded the letter they’d created and placed a Thomas the Tank Engine sticker over it. Jamia added the final touch by gluing a random piece of macaroni to make it look more presentable.

Just in the nick of time, as well. Henry walked around the class to check that everyone was doing their work correctly, and when he got to the two’s table, excitement was written all over their faces. He should’ve known then and there that something was suspicious, his eyes flickering down to the sealed letter. However, he thought nothing of it, giving them a thumbs up and walking back to his desk.

-

Y/N wiped her hands, sighing to herself as she looked over her empty classroom. Everyone had been dismissed to recess and it was rare that she experienced silence like this, so every time she did, she made sure to take advantage of it.

Leaning back in her seat, she rubbed over her eyes. She loved her students to death, but jeez, did they wear her out. Her silence was broken when she heard some kind of rustling, causing her to begrudgingly open her eyes. She did so just in time to notice a tiny finger pushing a pink folded piece of construction paper underneath the crack of her door.

This brought a small smile to her lips and she stood from her squeaky seat, short heels clicking against the marble flooring. She bent down to grab the paper with the Thomas the Tank Engine sticker, her manicured fingers peeling it back and carefully opening it.

DeEr Miss Y/L/N

Yu ar s o beeOtEfull and s mart. I lov yu.

Frum, mister Caveel

An uncontainable laugh ripped past her lips as she read over the letter that was so obviously written by one of Mr.Cavill’s kindergartners. The spelling gave that much away immediately.

She couldn’t deny how sweet it was, though.

A knock on her door caused her head to whip back up, meeting the eyes of none other than Mr.Cavill himself through the window of the door. He wore his signature good-guy smile that only got wider once he noticed that he’d startled Y/N the slightest bit, the woman holding a hand to her heart.

She quickly folded the letter back up and went to swing the door open, allowing Henry to walk into her classroom. He took the liberty of shutting it behind himself and admired the view as she walked back to her desk, plopping down in her chair again.

“Long day, huh?” Henry asked, walking over and pulling a chair up to the other side of her desk. 

“You have no idea.” Y/N sighed, biting her lip and watching as his perfect hands began to unpack the lunch he’d brought along. Her stomach growling was what jolted her from her trance and made her remember one of her current frustrations. “I forgot my lunch at home and the tiny bag of Cheetos I had isn’t really helping me either.”

Henry jumped into action at her words and he pushed one of his dishes her way, insisting that she take it. “It’s only two tacos, but it’s better than a bag of Cheetos.”

Y/N frowned and looked down at the food, “Are you sure? I could totally just get more chips.”

“I’m sure.” Henry reinforced, his heart racing at her reluctant, kind attitude. He brought his leftover restaurant chips and salsa out and set them down on her desk, the two beginning to eat in comfortable silence.

He would sometimes catch a glimpse of her when she wasn’t looking, admiring how she tried to eat politely in front of him while still unknowingly having a piece of beef on the corner of her lip. This made him chuckle and her gaze shifted back to him, confusion written over her face.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing.” Henry quickly shook his head, sporting a playful grin which she reciprocated.

The two’s relationship was strange. It was a constant push and pull, an almost there but never really. He’d made it very clear from the first week of school that he thought she was amazing and she reciprocated those feelings, but no matter how the conversation went, it always ended with a “We’re co-workers, we can’t”.

Obviously, that never stopped Henry from trying.

“What’s this?” He cocked his head and wiped his mouth, recognizing the Thomas the Tank Engine stickered letter from his own classroom.

Y/N licked her fingers and laughed, nodding towards the paper. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Henry pursed his lips at her semi-scary words but reached to grab the paper anyways, opening it and quickly reading over the broken English. Y/N watched with a smirk once he set the letter down, trying to stifle his grin as he rubbed his temples.

“Anything you’d like to say for yourself?” She teased, leaning a little bit closer to him.

Henry let out a hearty laugh and shook his head. “Kids and their wild imaginations, right? But maybe it’s not wild. I heard kids are good at sensing things, ya’know? Like ghosts and stuff.”

Y/N gave him a puzzled look and Henry realized what he’d just rambled about was strange so in an attempt to redeem himself, he clarified.

“B-But maybe instead of ghosts, it’s love. They can sense love. Maybe.”

Y/N laughed at his desperate attempt to regain his composure and explain himself but it was fruitless and Henry realized this too, laughing along with her. This fit went on for about 30 seconds before she was wiping her eyes and leaning back in her seat, tapping on her desk with her nails.

Her rhythmic pace made him nervous as he leaned back as well, awaiting her next words. It was obvious that she wanted to say something but something was holding her back, and Henry knew exactly what it was.

“Y/N.” He whispered, not willing breaking their eye contact for a mere second. “Say it.”

She bit her lip and took a deep breath, scared to let the words leave her mouth. They’d been beating around the bush for so long and this isn’t the only time he’s offered her his lunch at all (She was a forgetful person), but today felt different and they both felt it. Everyone around them knew it- Even five year old kids, it seemed. It was time to stop the games.

“..Maybe it is love.” Y/N nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. “I guess we’ll have to find out over dinner and a huge glass of wine, huh?”

Henry’s eyes widened as she finally allowed him in- gave him a chance at the one thing he’d been yearning after for so long. “A-Are you serious?” He stuttered out, his smile that of an excited child’s.

“Yes, I’m serious.” She confirmed happily, beginning to help him pack up his lunch. “I think I’m finally ready to put myself out there again.. And to be frank, I really like you.”

“Well duh. Who wouldn’t like me? I’m tall, funny, and incredibly handsome.” Henry jokingly rolled his eyes just as the bell rung, signifying the second half of their school day. When she scoffed, he continued, “So, uh, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Y/N smiled widely and nodded, shooing the man out of her class just as kids began to pour back in.

“Sounds great. Now get to class, Mr.Cavill.”

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill smut #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill oneshots #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fluff

[love-and-anarchy-au]

Love & Anarchy: Chapter 21

heyyyy, happy friday!! im so excited about this chapter; i couldnt wait for you to meet all this new (and old) characters! this chapter is the longest yet, so please be patient xd i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it. may i go back to writing l&a 3 <3 have a nice day!

REMEMBER THIS AU HAPPENS IN THE SAME UNIVERSE THAT THIS ONE

Find out what this AU is about here

Masterlist

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @honey-hippie-harper @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @everyone-has-a-nightmare @magykaldealings @nobellrenaissance @cerenoya @cassin-the-assasin @cindersnightmare

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Words:

36,962 (i meant it xd)

Part 2: A teen named Ace Artino

17 years old Alec

   “Are you Leroy Flinn?”

    “Yes, that's me.”

    Alec smiled, subtly, in a respectful manner, the way James used to smile.

    Alec had asked one of the janitors about 12th grader Leroy Flinn, and they (the janitor wasn’t not a he nor a she) had told him he spent most of his time in the outdoor lab, which was practically his’ since he had been showered in acid eight months ago (to avoid going to court over one of their students being burned to the ground, the school had decided to make amends by giving the nineteen-year-old student, Leroy Flinn, his own space). Alec assumed the school didn’t know that Leroy was a prodigy, as if they did, they would have kicked him out; besides, he was already nineteen years old, so Alec supposed he had had to repeat some grade. 

     The laboratory was very well illuminated and had many windows, from which the air flowed in and out at ease (although that did not prevent the place from having an almost unbearable smell of antiseptic). There were three gray marble tables, with dirty burners and sinks full of test tubes. There were also glass cabinets, from where you could see that there were chemical elements and even stuffed animals. There were a couple of worn out leather stools, one of them being the one in which Leroy Flinn was sitting,  using a microscope before being interrupted by Alec’s unexpected arrival.

    While Alec wore a long dark coat that was the last present from his best friend (it was hidden in his closet, wrapped in gift paper, with a card that said ‘Congratulations! You have survived seventeen years in this society. Here's a present.’ Alec remembered the lump in his throat, because his birthday was a week away when James died and he decided to look for something to remember him), the long blackish blue sweater with a yellow ‘A’ on it (this had  belonged to his girlfriend) and had his hair strictly slicked back with the most expensive gel he could find (in James' apartment), Leroy Flinn wore a pair of ripped and faded jeans, a vintage T-shirt from a band Alexandra  would have probably liked and a white lab coat, stained with what Alec suspected, were different types of acid. Leroy had matted, greasy hair, skin riddled with acne and burns, and lab goggles covering his small dark eyes. His attitude reflected how confused he was with Alec's visit.

    “I'm Alec James Artino. I have a proposal to make you,” Alec introduced himself and offered Leroy a hand. He shook it. Alec felt calluses on Leroy's hand and even felt a slight itch at contact.

    “What do you need, Alec James?” Leroy said, offering  him one of the stools. Alec sat down, straight as a ruler.

    “Call me Ace, please,” Alec asked and Leroy nodded. Alec continued. “I have heard that you have contacts, contacts that interest me.”

    Leroy went pale. His hands began to shake slightly. Alec smiled and shook his head at the reaction.

    “Easy, Leroy Flinn, I'm of the same ilk as those contacts,” Alec explained and to demonstrate what he had said, he drew a test tube towards him in a blink of an eye. Leroy's mouth was open; he must have been very impressionable if he was impressed with just that.

    “You're a telekinetic.”

    Alec nodded, and returned the test tube to its place.

    “I need the contacts of all the prodigies you know. Only that.”

    Leroy frowned.

    “Why do you need them?”

    “To  start a revolution. The liberation of prodigies.”

    Leroy's eyes sparkled, but his brow furrowed a bit more.

    “How do you plan to liberate a sector of society that has been discriminated for more than ten centuries? What do my contacts have to do with that?” Leroy asked, practical.

    Alec inhaled.

    Don't tell the speech to them, tell it to yourself.

    “I think that, although violence is not always the answer,” Alec emphasized the word “always”, he let it float, “in this case it is the only way to make our voices be heard. Make them respect us, as we are humans just as they are. Throughout the history of humanity, the great changes in society have been violent, since there was not, nor there is now, nor there will be any other way. It is a sad reality, but it is the one that we have and I will do what has to be done so that prodigies are treated as the humans that we are; it does not matter if I must destroy every building in Gatlon City, or kill the mayor, I will not rest until a prodigy can walk on the streets without fear.” Alec did not let the carbon out of his lungs, even though he needed oxygen and did not that; he continued with the second question. “My best friend was brutally murdered and he firmly believed in this revolution. He once told me that the key to this revolution was you, Leroy Flinn. He told me that you have contacts of powerful prodigies, majestic prodigies and suitable for our purpose.” The latter was not true; James had never mentioned the ability of any prodigy, but it didn't matter, he was sure that if James needed those prodigies, it was because they were powerful. Alec continued. “That's why I'm standing in front of you now, Leroy Flinn. That is why, and only for that, that I ask for your contacts.”

    Alec finished his speech. He had never spoken so many words together; perhaps that’s the effect that James had on people.

    Leroy didn't say anything for a long time.

    He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

    “I have some,” he said and rummaged in his drawer under the marble table. The drawer creaked when it was opened and also when it was closed. Leroy pulled out a worn out and dirty notebook with only five sheets and impregnated by the smell of gas. He handed it over to Alec, who took it in his hands and gently stroked it, feeling the rough texture of the notebook. Leroy said. “I hope they are useful.”

    Alec smiled unemotionally the way James would have.

    “I'll need your help too, Leroy Flinn,” Alec said.

    Leroy frowned once more.

    “Mine? Why?”

    Because you're a prodigy and that's enough, Alec thought, but that wouldn't convince anyone to join a revolution, so he did  what people had been doing for ages to convince others: he complimented him.

    “Because you're a genius, and you'll be very useful in the revolution,” Alec said, but he realized something was missing, so he added, “Please, Leroy.”

    Leroy smiled, embarrassed and flattered at the same time, but above all convinced. Leroy Flinn promised:

    “I'll take you to the prodigies.”

                                                              -

    The first prodigy on Leroy's contact list was named Henry Bleach, and he attended the same school as them. Leroy and Alec just had to leave the lab and head to the area closest to where Alec and James used to go to chat or just hang out, the restricted area of ​​the school. They  crossed the  yard fence, and arrived into  the old basketball courts, also fenced in with wire. Leroy played with the wire using his hands and after a few seconds, it began to melt. Alec separated the melted piece of wire from the others, and they made their way onto the concrete field.

    There was only one person there, and it was a boy who looked around  Leroy's age, from his medium height and slightly shorter. Leroy hadn't said anything to Alec about the prodigies on the list, and Alec was fine with it, he wanted to judge the prodigies himself, no gossip behind.

    He hated gossip.

    They approached the boy, who was standing in front of a wooden lectern, staring at the sun. The closer they got, the more Alec noticed the boy's fiery hair: red as the dawn, blazing like fire, standing out against his dark skin. The boy must have been painting, because Alec's senses were telling him he was holding something made of wood, and that near him were pigments condensed with oil and ...

    “Hey, Henry,” Leroy said.

    “Flinn! What’s up?” Henry saluted, waving his hand with a brush at Leroy. His smile was huge and his teeth were perfectly white. Alec pictured them as priceless pearls. The boy (Henry?) noticed Alec's presence and said, “Hey, who are you?”

    Leroy threatened to respond but Alec wouldn't let him. His voice was his’, and his’ only.

    No one would ever steal his voice again.

    “I'm Alec James Artino …” Alec introduced himself, before Henry interrupted him.

    “What are you, from royalty?” laughed Henry.

    Alec didn't flinch and continued as if nothing had happened.

    “No, I'm not from royalty, actually. Anyways, you are..?” Alec denied, before asking Henry his full name. He wanted him to say his name himself, even though Leroy had already told him.

    “Henry Bleach,” he answered, with a huge smile. Then he asked, “What are y'all here from?”

    Alec took a sneaky breath.

    “I'm gathering prodigies for a revolution. I know you're a prodigy, so don't even try to deny it. So am I,” Alec snapped, and pulled a huge rock to him, one he'd spotted in the restricted courtyard. He let it float in the air before  separating  it  like he had done with his rosary.  As for the tiny remains  on the ground, the wind carried them away. Henry had an approving expression on his face.

    “So, Alec James Artino, you want to organize a revolution? For what?”

    “To free the prodigies. To avenge the dead.”

    Henry nodded.

    “How would you do it?”

    Alec  calculated  how to answer this question to Henry. He was an artist, according to the acrylic stains on his pants, and the tubes of spray paint in the pockets of his joggers. Alec thought  Henry would be the type of people who believed in destroying something for the creation of something else.

    “We’ll destroy everything to build something better and new,” Alec promised, a smile on his face.

    Henry smiled his pearly teeth and laughed.

    “I'm in, Alec James. Count with me,” Henry caught on.

    “Please, call me Ace,” Alec asked, shaking Henry's hand.

    Henry laughed once more and said:

    “That’s better. When do we start?” the boy asked anxiously.

    Alec and Leroy exchanged a look. Alec promised:

    “We’ll keep in touch, but don’t worry, I can assure you we’ll meet very soon.”

                                                            -

    The second prodigy on the contact list was Bruce Chapman, a physics student  from  the Gatlon City National University. Alec and Leroy's High School and Gatlon’s College were quite a distance to walk, so they had to take public transport. Near the school, there was a subway station, so they headed there.

    Leroy and Alec left the school without pain or glory, since the mandatory school hours had ended and only the optional subjects remained, and they walked three blocks, in silence, until they reached the stairs that led to the Poles Avenue subway station and Marooned Road. Alec and Leroy descended, sunlight trickling down as they went lower and lower.

    Alec hated the subway.

    The stairs ended and they found themselves in a large space,  illuminated with pale lights and despair. In front of them, were the devices where you put your transport card and paid for the trip. Alec had no idea what their names were, but he knew it would take a second to destroy them and make his way to the damn train. Leroy and Alec kept going, Alec steady, and Leroy crestfallen. Leroy produced a blueish card with a sauce stain from his grimy backpack. The boy laid the card on the scanner and it motioned for Alec to pass. Alec shook his head, and dug into his pocket for a crumpled bill. He handed it to Leroy. After Leroy took it, Alec passed by and headed for the platform.

    Every second slowed by.

    He stopped next to the platform, and he waited for the train.

    Leroy stood next to him, hung his backpack over his chest, and dug into his pocket for a pack of gum. He took one out and offered another to Alec. Alec took it; chewing something would help him calm down.

     The train arrived. Leroy and Alec got in, sat in two empty seats.

     Anyways.

     Leroy sighed.

     “How did you come up with revolution idea?” asked Leroy.

     Alec laughed, just because he was expecting that question.

     “Actually, it  wasn’t my idea, but my best friend’s,” Alec explained as chewed his gum, absentmindedly, without exaggerating or pronouncing the movement.

     Leroy nodded and also chewed his gum.

     “Aren't you ... scared?” Leroy questioned.

     Alec didn't see that question coming.

     The real answer was “yes”.

     And “no”.

     He was afraid that everything would go wrong.

     But, the truth was, he had nothing to lose.

     “I have nothing to lose,” Alec said, and the train stopped. They had reached their station.

     Leroy nodded again, and they stood to get out of that metal  which  Alec despised so much.

     This station was exactly the same as the other, only it was full of art, young people, and a small café. Alec contained an expression of disgust at the putrid smell of that place. With his eyes, he searched for the exit stairs. He found them and in two strides, began to rise to the surface.

     Alec took a deep breath as he emerged from that underground prison.

     Nevermore.

     Leroy exited after him, and headed straight for the monumental building of the campus from Gatlon City National University .

     The building was ancient and modern at the same time, almost as if it had been built on top of a graveyard. It was a gray building, with mirrored windows, stone columns, sliding doors, and marble floors. Everything was gray, gray, gray. It was absolutely depressing and yet...

     “Bruce is in the physics  faculty,” Leroy said, as they walked into the building, without pain nor glory. Inside, it was very well illuminated and smelled like bleach, which Alec liked and disliked simultaneously. His leather shoes collided with perfect marble. Leroy's slippers squeaked.

     They continued walking down the long and wide corridor, until they reached its division. They turned right, going deeper and deeper until they found themselves in front of a gray door, with the inscription "LAB 3B - KNOCK THE DOOR." Leroy knocked on the door with his knuckles, twice, once more, and three times to finish. They waited.

    A boy (a man, to tell the truth), twenty-three years old, sturdy and tall (he was four inches taller than Alec, who was already tall), with ashen hair cropped on the sides of his skull and combed into a gaudy quiff, and dull amber eyes covered with circled glasses, opened the door for them.

     Leroy smiled.

     “Bruce, hi, how are you doing?” Leroy greeted and high-fived the man (Bruce).

     Bruce grinned from ear to ear, a childish smile.

     “Leroy, man, it's been so long! Oh, with whom you've come with?” Bruce asked, still smiling. Alec smiled, poorly compared to Bruce.

     “I’m Alec James Artino, and I dare to ask if we may come in. I have a proposal for you,” Alec introduced himself, respectful and cordial.

     “Of course! Come in, come in,” said Bruce enthusiastically.

     They entered the lab, which was very much like Leroy's, only a thousand times messier. Everything, the floor, the tables, even the ceiling, was full of papers-large papers, cut, chopped and folded. Alec shifted the papers as he passed, made a clean path with his mind.

    They sat on the swivel stools . Alec locked the wheels with his powers, to stop them from moving .

    “Well, what’s this proposal you have for me?” Bruce asked, still smiling.

    How can a human being smile so much without cramping?

    “I know you're a prodigy,” Alec said bluntly. Bruce's smile faded. “Don’t worry, I’m one myself.”

    Alec felt each and every piece of paper in that room, and collected them all, arranging them in neat, perfect piles. For a second, there was a  whirlwind, and the next, the lab was clean. Bruce's mouth was open.

    “Wow, that was ... incredible,” Bruce whispered, and ran a hand through his gaudy quiff. Alec nodded and brought his fingertips together.

    “Bruce Chapman, right?” Alec asked, only to divert the conversation to the proposal he had to make.

    Bruce nodded, like a little boy.

    “You know this society in which we live is sick, right? You know the way prodigies are treated isn’t right, don’t you?” Alec asked rhetorically. Bruce nodded again.

    “What if I told you we can change this society? That we can change this world,” Alec said, his eyes hungry and his expression alive.

    Bruce's dull eyes lit up.

    “How?” Bruce whispered, mesmerized by Alec's words.

    “By gathering prodigies, powerful prodigies, and rioting. We’re the only ones that can save prodigies  from dying in the streets, so we have to. I'm planning a revolution, and I need you to be part of it. Will you, Bruce Chapman, join me,” Alec looked at Leroy and corrected himself, “join us, in this uprising?” Alec finished his speech, the most inspiring he had said so far. He had hardly any breath, he had savored the words so much, he had forgotten to breathe.

    Bruce Chapman had tears in his eyes.

    “Of course. Of course I’ll join you,” Bruce declared, his voice cracking with belief and hope. Alec grinned, and shook hands with Bruce, who had not stopped smiling through his tears.

    It was like a child in the body of a man.

    One way or another, he would be helpful.

    They said goodbye and promised to keep in touch.

                                                            -

    The third prodigy was a girl two years younger than Alec, a girl who attended the most expensive boarding school in all of Gatlon City. The boarding school was only a few blocks from the university, so they went by foot. The Gatlon area in which they were, was the richest and most prestigious area of ​​the city. The sidewalks were clean, the parked cars were the most expensive, the least accessible stores were there. Alec felt like a toad from another well, being there.

    They reached the imposing gates of Gatlon City's Boarding School for Girls. The building was old, but it had been preserved with dignity, unlike Alec and Leroy's school. The pillars were ancient, graveyard style, the huge doors of polished and dark wood, the colonial windows so clean they could be used as mirrors. Alec and Leroy climbed the four steps before the entrance, and then Leroy pushed open the door (with the help of Alec's power). They closed the door and found themselves in a wide, well illuminated corridor with a gleaming white marble floor.

    Alec envied this place so much.

    Leroy went to a tall desk (made of the same wood as the front door) that was at the side of the hall. A young woman, her hair in a perfect bun, sat behind this desk, typing in indistinct words on a computer. Leroy cleared his throat.

    The woman looked up and pursed her lips.

    “How can I help you, gentlemen?” asked the woman, who had an elegant but annoying voice; it scraped in Alec's ears like nails colliding with each other.

    “We want to visit Margot Climat,” Leroy said, emphasizing the gravity of her voice. Alec arched an eyebrow, saying nothing.

    The woman nodded and typed more words until there was a beep and she nodded. Then she stood up, stepped from behind the desk, and pointed her forearm to her left.

    “Follow me,” she said.

    Alec and Leroy followed her and turned left into a secondary corridor that led to a spiral staircase, also made of marble and polished wood. The woman's heels struck the ground over and over again, constantly twitching. They climbed the stairs, one, two, three floors, until they reached one where there was only one more hallway, with doors marked with numbers and a long railing to keep people  from falling. Alec peeked out discreetly, and  noticed  that from there he could see the entrance hall. He was tempted to jump and fly, but he knew he wouldn't get very far without his helmet.

    Or maybe yes.

    He preferred not to know.

    The woman led them to a door marked with the number 134, and knocked on the door, before opening it without waiting for an answer. The woman leaned out, and announced:

    “Margot, you have visitors.”

    Then the woman  walked  away, motioned for Alec and Leroy to come in, and left, without closing the door. Alec and Leroy came in, and closed it. The door did not make the slightest sound, so well oiled and maintained despite its clear age.

    They were in a room the size of Alec's entire apartment (which was twenty square meters). The room had two huge windows, wide open, and the silk curtains were drawn. There were three individual chairs, beige. In one of them, opposite Alec and Leroy, sat a girl, Margot Climat.

    It only took a quick glance at Alec to realize that Margot was a very, very strange girl. Her gray hair was extremely long, and it was somewhere between being straight and curly; it rippled in the air on invisible currents of air, although it was true that the day had turned cloudy and rather windy. Margot was short, or so she appeared with her feet just touching the ground. Her skin was golden and her eyes were gray. No, they were light blue. No, they were gold. No, they were covered in expensive black sunglasses. And her hair was styled into a gray braid.

    “Bonjour, Margot,” Leroy said. And he sat down in one of the armchairs.

    “Bonjour, Leroy,” Margot answered. Her clothes were also expensive; according to Alec's senses, they were silk and pure cotton. Margot lowered the level of her glasses until they only covered half her eyes. She smiled insightfully and said, “Bonjour, monsieur. Sit down, please.”

    Alec smirked. Margot was French.

    “Ciao, Margot Climat. I'm Alec James Artino.” Alec introduced himself and held out his hand towards her. She shook it and then  flipped the magazine she was reading.

    “To what do I owe the pleasure? What do you require?” Margot asked, and took off her glasses. She tossed them to the ground, and they bounced off the carpet as the girl rubbed her knuckles against her eyes. Margot sighed/yawned.

    “We came to make you a proposal,” Alec began, and intertwined his fingers. He did not lean back in the chair, like Leroy, but stood straight and respectable.

    According to Leroy, Margot was the key point for his revolution.

    Although he hadn't explained why, Alec believed him.

    Why wouldn't he?

    “Especially him,” Leroy clarified, and Margot laughed. Her laugh was music and it reminded Alec of Alexandra's laugh.

    “Of course, Leroy. Go on, Artino,” Margot said, and uncrossed her legs.

    “We are gathering prodigies for a revolution. Are you interested in joining?” Alec blurted out, but when Margot looked at him with frantic eyes, he clarified, “Don't deny you're a prodigy.” Alec picked up the glasses from the floor and put them on Margot's hair, like a headband. “I am also one.”

    Margot smiled with her thin lips, and prompted Alec.

    “What is the purpose of this revolution?” questioned Margot, savoring the word revolution, as if it was a precious commodity.

    Alec smirked.

    “Do you have any idea of ​​the estimated number of prodigy deaths per year, miss Climat?” Alec asked rhetorically. He expected Margot to shake her head.

    But Margot Climat tensed and replied:

    “A million deaths a year, in Gatlon City only,” Margot reported, staring at the ground. The data was a sword between the ribs.

    “Precisely, miss Climat. Do you consider that this genocide must continue, that the killing of prodigies in the streets shall be extended?” Alec asked, his voice strong but on the verge of shaking with the rage, provoked by hearing those words coming from his own mouth. He hated society, he hated it, he hated it.

    They had to stop this.

    “No,” Margot replied, her voice determined and strong.

    “The purpose of this revolution is to free prodigies, it is to free ourselves from the chains of this sick and manic society. We will do whatever it takes to be recognized as human beings, but we cannot do it alone. We need you, Margot Climat, you and all the prodigies we can recruit who are brave enough to raise their voices and claim their rights,” Alec paused for a breath. “Will you be part of this liberating rebellion?”

    Margot looked Alec in the eyes. Her eyes were glassy, but none of those raindrop-like tears spilled out.

    Margot nodded.

    Alec grinned with his teeth, and sat up. Leroy did the same.

    “Magnificent. We'll see each other later to fix the rest,” Alec assured, but before leaving Margot asked/begged them:

    “Do not forget me.”

    Alec looked into her eyes. They were like the sky: cloudy, windy and dark.

    “Never,” Alec promised.

    And they left.

                                                             -

    The last two prodigies on the list were sisters and lived outside Gatlon, on a family farm. They were two sisters, and Leroy had found them by chance, once he had left Gatlon with his grandmother. The farm where these sisters lived was a hundred kilometers from Gatlon, and it was too late to buy a bus ticket. However, they agreed to go the next day, taking advantage of the fact that there were no classes as it was the weekend.

    Alec did not return to the apartment at Drain Way and Southwest 435.

    He went to James' apartment (though he had thrown all the corpses to Gatlon’s river, it was still risky, as the police could show up searching for James’ mothers; he didn’t care, he was going to fight to police anyways, besides, he would never go back to his father’s apartment), and drank all the coffee in the house, which was a disaster since Alec had scrambled everything to find something to use as concrete proof of James Roselo's existence (in that search, he found hidden cameras, probably installed by James’ mothers to keep an eye on him; that’s how they found out he was a prodigy); just like he had the dust from his sister's rosary, his girlfriend's letter and cassettes, he needed something from James.

     And he still hadn't found it; the coat was a gift, but not an inheritance.

     Maybe it was his name.

     Maybe.

     The next morning, Alec sported a fresh pair of dark circles under his eyes ready to be shown. He decided to at least look decent, so he changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, and went back to combing his hair. He drank no more coffee. He ate nothing. He went out into the street and headed for the Gatlon City bus station, where Leroy Flinn was waiting for him.

    When he arrived, Leroy was sitting on a bench, dressed exactly the same as yesterday, only with a new threadbare cap. In his hand, there were two bus tickets. He gave one to Alec when he sat next to him. They said nothing. They just waited.

    Alec couldn't believe that he had already recruited four prodigies.

    He couldn't believe that James' dream was already underway, that the prodigies' dream of freedom was closer to coming true.

    Soon, soon, soon.

    The revolution would save all prodigies from dying like  Julieta had died, dying  like Alexandra died, or being coldly murdered  like it had happened to  James.

    Everything Alec did and would do, would be by and for them.

    For his sister, the most innocent and pure person to ever inhabit the Earth.

    For Alexandra, the bravest girl Alec ever knew.

    By James, visionary and thinker. Creator of the revolution.

    Alec owed everything to them.

    Without them, he wouldn't be there.

    He inhaled deeply.

    The bus arrived and got on with Leroy.

    He sat by the window, took out a book he had brought, and began to read.

    Leroy started reading too, but it was a scientific report, or so the headline said.

    The bus started and they left.

    They read and read. The bus went on and on, the buildings shrinking into houses, and then into open fields. They passed by the river, by the sea, through fields, humble neighborhoods and suburbs. Alec didn't pay much attention to the landscape, he read on.

    It said this:

    “...and yet, it is impossible to predict a human being. The human being is unpredictable, or as it is called: ‘unique’. However, and although it may not seem like it, controlling a human being is easy, it is only a matter of practice. Throughout the years, it has been appreciated how there is always a leader in the pack; that leader is the one who uses words and does not write a book with them, but paints a picture. Paints a dream, an ideal, a future. This future, this dream, is precise, but not specific, and has at least one thing that everyone is looking for. Whoever finds that something that a group of humans is looking for, will become the leader of the next generation and will reign until the end of its time.”

    The book had belonged to James and had the margin of the page folded, with a couple of words.

    To Ace.

    Alec's throat became a knot .

    James had found that dream in common that prodigies had.

    It was Alec's responsibility to paint it.

    He straightened up and wiped away a tear, like someone would wave away a fly  .

    He would make the dream of prodigies come true.

    He just needed to recruit two more sisters.

    Leroy brought him back to reality by touching his shoulder.

    “This is our stop,” he said.

    Alec nodded and put the book in his pocket. The pocket was large, the book small. They stopped, went out into the narrow corridor of the bus, and went down the steps of the bus. Leroy nodded to the driver, before the driver closed the sliding doors and drove off.

    They were out in the open, next to a cracked pavement road, and an endless field of wheat. A few feet from them, there was a wooden gate, with a carved wooden sign,  in which there could be  read “Harper Farm”. Leroy headed that way, Alec followed him.

    They walked down a dirt road, with recent car wheel markings. In the distance, you could see a small forest, and a couple of red stables (they were only visible thanks to that bright color). The sky was covered with plenty of fluffy clouds, and a gentle breeze played with Alec's wheat and hair. It was crazy even to think that that place was a hundred kilometers from Gatlon, that in an hour and a half you could get away from that urban jungle...

    They walked for about half an hour. Neither Alec nor Leroy had a watch, nor reliable perception of time. Time just passed, it was subjective and objective at the same time. For Julieta, time was a gift from God that should not be wasted. For Alexandra, time was torture. For James, time was an investment.

    For Alec, time was just that: time.

    And after all, it didn't matter.

    But it would.

    They came to the doors of a red and white barn, with a wooden sign announcing the sale of fruits and vegetables, and their prices. Alec lifted himself a few inches off the ground, so his (James') shoes wouldn't get dirty with the mud. They entered the stable, and approached a table used as a desk where there was an antique cash register and a young girl behind it, counting money.

    The girl was wearing a jean jumpsuit, with a pocket in the center of her chest that had a flower painted on it. She had thin, light brown hair tied in a light ponytail, and grass-green eyes. Her skin was tanned and her lips were thick. She was deep in her world, just like David used to be.

    “Excuse us,” Leroy said, in a respectful manner . The girl looked up from the cash register. “We are looking for Carrie and Honey Harper.”

    The girl straightened, and her lips pursed.

    “I'm Carrie Harper,” she introduced herself, stretching the vowels like sticking gum. “Honey is my sister . What do you need us for?”

    Alec cleared his throat, and linked his arms behind his back.

    “We have a proposal to make you both.”

    Carrie tensed.

    “I'll be right back,” she said, and went behind the curtain behind the desk.

    In a minute, she returned with a girl of the same height, but with a rather curvy body. The girl, Honey, had curly blonde hair, dark eyes, and was wearing a full body outfit  like her sister. Alec thought he saw a bee sting through Honey's hair.

    She blushed when she saw Alec.

    “What proposal do you have for us, mr…?” said Carrie, expressionless.

    “Artino. Alec James Artino,” Alec introduced himself and offered his hand. Carrie shook it. Alec continued with his proposal. “You are aware that prodigies are constantly mistreated and their life expectation is a maximum of thirty years, right?”

    Carrie went pale, but nodded.

    “What does this have to do with us ...?” Carrie questioned, but Alec cut her short.

    “I know you two are prodigies.”

    Honey cut him off.

    “How dare you…!” she snapped, until Carrie stopped her with her forearm.

    “Honey, silence,” Carrie said. Then she turned to Alec. “Mr. Artino, please, tell us why do you think we are prodigies.”

    Leroy answered for him.

    “Well, you once contacted me for help, telling me you were a prodigy. Then, Ale-Ace came to me asking for the contacts of prodigies I got so I gave them to him.”

    “All for what? Searching for prodigies in order to hunt them?” Honey tricked, and a considerable amount of bees began to enter the barn, to alight on Honey. The girl was furious. “Well, I am a fucking prodigy and I won't let you kill me, Mr. Artino.”

    Carrie sighed.

    “Why are you here, Mr. Artino? I beg you to go to the point and stop beating around the bush,” begged Carrie, crossing her arms.

    Alec sighed too.

    “I'm a prodigy too, just like you,” Alec explained, as he took the cash register with his invisible hands and made it go round and round. He compacted it into a perfect cube, and then returned it to its original shape. Honey's bees scattered, Carrie  arched  her eyebrows. “I’m  gathering  prodigies for a revolution that will free us from this sick society we live in, and assure us the rights we deserve.”

    Honey pursed her lips, more contemptuously and judgmental than her sister.

    “A revolt? In the city? Why would we care?” Honey observed, with an arched eyebrow.

    “This isn’t about the city, about Gatlon; this is about us, prodigies. This is how it starts: a group of prodigies freeing themselves from the chains of society, inspiring other prodigies to do the same,” Alec explained, playing his soul on those words, saying what had to be said. “We’ll be the voice of the voiceless, the savior of the lost. We’ll be the light of this generation and the next one, we’ll start a fire that no one will ever be able to stop at all. We’re prodigies, we’re strong, powerful, we’re gods. We deserve the same rights as non-prodigies, and that’s what we’ll get.”

     At all costs, James whispered in Alec's mind.

     “At all costs,” Alec repeated and finished his speech.

     The eyes of the three present were shining, Leroy included. Carrie's mouth was half open, Honey's mouth was wide open, and Leroy was looking at Alec with pride, with…hope? Leroy patted Alec's shoulder, and Alec, for once, didn't stiffen.

     They believed in him.

     Just like Julieta, Alexandra, and James had.

     Alec smiled, without showing his teeth.

     “Will you join us?” Alec asked.

     Honey approached Alec, hopping and screeching.

     “Of course!” exclaimed Honey enthusiastically. Her eyes were dripping with anticipation.

     Carrie smiled sheepishly.

     “I assume we'll be useful so…” accepted Carrie.

     “You're the key, Harpers,” Alec stated. Honey blushed. Carrie managed a half smile.

     “We will keep in touch,” Alec promised.

     Honey and Carrie nodded.

     “Mr. Artino…” said Honey. Alec respectfully stopped her with a wave of his hand.

     “Call me Ace, please,” Alec asked, with a smile. Honey smirked.

     “Ace,” Honey said again, amused. “Just ... thank you.”

     Alec didn't frown, but looked at her in confusion.

     “May I ask for what?”

     Honey laughed at the way Alec had asked the question. It reminded him of Alexandra, complaining about James because he said everything in a very elaborate way ...

     Focus, Artino.

     Carrie walked over to her sister and placed one of her hands on her shoulder. It was a protective gesture, and more maternal than sisterly .

     “For saving us,” Carrie finished.

     Alec was about to blush.

     About to.

     “Don’t thank me. It is you who are saving yourselves,” Alec affirmed and said goodbye.

    Leroy also said “goodbye” and they started back.

    When they got to the bus stop, Leroy said:

    “Well, that's it.”

    Leroy sighed. Alec gently shook his head.

    “I'm not done yet. I have another prodigy to meet.”

    Leroy  arched  his eyebrows.

    “Whom?”

    Alec remembered a paper, one that Alexandra had given him a long time ago, one that she had found by chance, one that had ink calligraphy and an address and a name ...

    “You’ll see.”

#love & anarchy #love & anarchy au #ace anarchy's backstory #a teen named ace artino #alec artino #ace anarchy #alec james artino #james roselo #leroy flinn #honey harper #margot climat #henry bleach #carrie harper #bruce chapman #my au #au #my fic #fic #marissa meyer #renegades au #before renegades #renegades fandom #renegades #anarchists #writer #writer on tumblr #read #reblog

[agentunwin]

MACARONI & GLUE [Teacher!Shawn x Teacher!Reader]

In which Mr.Mendes’ kindergartners come up with a master plan to set him and Ms.Y/L/N up. 

[Gif by @mendes-shawn!]

— A/N: this is barely edited sorry but i got this idea from a general teacher x teacher prompt post i saw a few days ago, i thought it was cute so i wrote it. also if you know who made the gif let me know so i can credit!

— WORDS: 1.8k

— WARNINGS: n/a

-

Shawn shuffled behind the wall as he eyed the woman just down the hall. Her legs looked great in her beige skirt as she bent down to give each of her first graders high fives as they walked into the classroom. Her smile was bright and her love for her students radiated throughout the entire school, brightening everyone’s day. Brightening his day.

When all of her students reentered the classroom she stood to dust off her outfit and was about to follow behind them, but something caught her eye. A mysterious S-shaped curl peeked out from the wall just a few feet away. She chuckled to herself and shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Good morning, Mr.Mendes.” Y/N called out, knocking him off his balance a little. He presumed he was being sneaky but that obviously wasn’t the case, and now embarrassed wasn’t nearly a good enough word to describe how he felt in this moment.

He pocketed his hands and stepped out from behind the wall, a bashful smile on his lips to match hers. The blush on his cheeks was impossible to miss and he swayed back and forth on his toes as he replied, “Good morning to you too, Ms.Y/L/N.”

She considered teasing him a bit more but decided against it when one of Shawn’s own students came up to tug on the side of his tucked-in button up shirt. Shawn looked down at the brunette boy who was staring right back at him with expectant eyes considering he hadn’t come back to the classroom in all but a minute.

Shawn pointed towards his door and began to back away, insisting, “I should probably get back to my own class now, eh?”

Y/N shut her eyes and grinned, “Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea.”

By the time she’d finished her sentence the little boy had pulled him completely behind the wall but she didn’t fail to hear his “See you at lunch!” before his door was slammed shut. She rolled her eyes and laughed before ducking into her own classroom.

Shawn tortured himself over that moment for the rest of that morning. His kindergartners were clever enough to realize something was wrong with him when they noticed him staring down at his demo macaroni art project, his face stoic. While the classroom buzzed with life around him, he remained sitting at the too-tiny table with a few of his other students, cheeks still blazing.

And the brunette boy from earlier, Liam, knew exactly why.

“I think teacher has a crush on miss Y/L/N.” He said to his friend nonchalantly, hands messy as he attempted to expertly place a piece of macaroni onto his masterpiece. 

His friend Jamia perked up at his claim, her eyes going wide and ginger curls bouncing. “How do you know?”

Liam shrugged, tipping his Elmer’s glue bottle and letting out a lot more than intended. “He acts weird around her!”

Jamia smiled and swooned, holding her hands to her heart. “Are they together?”

Liam only shook his head, peacefully continuing to add onto his art. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Shawn stood that he came up with an idea. The little boy ordered Jamia to get him some construction paper and stickers, the girl excitedly coming back with the “secret supplies” a minute later. 

He explained the plan to his friend and they both got to work, Liam leading the plan. His tongue stuck out from his lips as he tried to keep his hands steady, writing out a few words to the best of his ability. He tried to sound out the words which helped him a little, and when they were done, the two folded the letter and placed a Thomas the Tank Engine sticker over it. Jamia added the final touch by gluing a random piece of macaroni to make it look more presentable.

Just in the nick of time, as well. Shawn walked around the class to check that everyone was doing their work correctly and when he got to the two’s table, excitement was written all over their faces. He should’ve known then and there that something was suspicious, his eyes flickering down to the sealed letter. However, he thought nothing of it, walking back to his desk.

Y/N wiped her hands, sighing to herself as she looked over her empty classroom. Everyone had been dismissed to recess and it was rare that she experienced silence like this, so every time she did, she made sure to take advantage of it. 

Leaning back in her seat, she rubbed over her eyes. She loved her students to death but jeez, did they wear her out. Her silence was broken when she heard some kind of rustling, making her begrudgingly open her eyes. She did so just in time to notice a tiny finger pushing a pink folded piece of cardboard underneath the crack of her door.

This brought a small smile to her lips and she stood from her squeaky seat, short heels clicking against the marble flooring. She bent down to grab the paper with the Thomas the Tank Engine sticker, her manicured fingers carefully opening it. 

DeEr Miss Y/L/N

Yu are s o beeOtEfull and s mart. I lov yu.

Frum, mister MendeZ

An uncontainable laugh ripped past her lips as she read over the letter that was so obviously written by one of Mr.Mendes’ kindergartners. The spelling gave that away immediately. 

She couldn’t deny how sweet it was, though. 

A knock on her door caused her head to whip back up, meeting the eyes of none other than Mr.Mendes himself through the window of the door. He wore his signature good-guy smile that only got wider once he noticed that he’d startled Y/N the slightest bit, the woman holding a hand to her heart. 

She quickly folded the letter back up and went to swing the door open, allowing Shawn to walk into her classroom. He took the liberty of shutting it behind himself and admired the view as she walked back to her desk, plopping down in her chair again. 

“Long day, huh?” Shawn asked, walking over and pulling a chair up to the other side of her desk. He then set down his plastic baggie and began unpacking his glass lunch containers. 

“You have no idea.” Y/N sighed, biting her lip and watching his perfect hands unpack his lunch. Her stomach growling was what jolted her from her trance and made her remember one of her frustrations. “I forgot my lunch at home and the tiny bag of Cheetos I had isn’t really helping me either.”

Shawn jumped into action at her words and he pushed one of his dishes her way, insisting that she take it. “It’s only two tacos, but it’s better than a bag of Cheetos.”

Y/N frowned and looked down at the food, “Are you sure? I could totally just get more chips.”

“I’m sure.” Shawn reinforced, his heart racing at her reluctant, kind attitude. He brought his leftover restaurant chips and salsa out and set them down on her desk, the two beginning to eat in silence.

He would sometimes catch a glimpse of her when she wasn’t looking, admiring how she tried to eat politely in front of him while still unknowingly having a piece of beef on the corner of her lip. This made him chuckle and her gaze shifted back to him, confusion written over her face.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing.” Shawn quickly shook his head, sporting a playful grin which she reciprocated.

The two’s relationship was very strange. It was a constant push and pull, an almost there but never really. He’d made it very clear from the first week of school that he thought she was amazing and she reciprocated those feelings, but no matter how the conversation went, it always ended with a “We’re co-workers, we can’t”.

Obviously, that never stopped Shawn from trying.

“What’s this?” Shawn cocked his head, recognizing the Thomas the Tank Engine stickered letter from his own classroom. 

Y/N licked her fingers and laughed, nodding towards the paper. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Shawn pursed his lips at her semi-scary words but reached to grab the paper anyways, opening it and quickly reading over the broken English. Y/N watched with a smirk once he set the letter down, trying to stifle his grin as he rubbed his temples.

“Anything you’d like to say for yourself?” She teased, leaning a little bit closer to him.

Shawn chuckled and shook his head. “Kids and their wild imaginations, right? But maybe it’s not wild. I heard kids are good at sensing things, ya’know? Like ghosts and stuff.”

Y/N gave him a puzzled look and Shawn realized what he’d just rambled about was strange so in an attempt to redeem himself, he clarified.

“B-But maybe instead of ghosts, it’s love. They can sense love. Maybe.”

Y/N laughed at his desperate attempt to regain his composure and explain himself but it was fruitless and Shawn realized this too, laughing along with her. This fit went on for about 30 seconds before she was wiping her eyes and leaning back in her seat, tapping on her desk with her nails.

Her rhythmic pace made him nervous as he leaned back as well, awaiting her next words. It was obvious that she wanted to say something but something was holding her back, and Shawn knew exactly what it was.

“Y/N.” Shawn whispered, not willing breaking their eye contact for a mere second. “Say it.”

She bit her lip and took a deep breath, scared to let the words leave her mouth. They’d been beating around the bush for so long and this isn’t the only time he’s offered her his lunch at all (She was a forgetful person) but today felt different and they both felt it. Everyone around them knew it- Even five year old kids, it seemed. It was time to stop the games.

“Maybe it is love.” Y/N nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. “I guess we’ll have to find out over dinner and a huge glass of wine, huh?”

Shawn’s eyes widened as she finally allowed him in- gave him a chance at the one thing he’d been yearning after for so long. “A-Are you serious?” He stuttered out, his smile that of an excited child’s.

“Yes, I’m serious.” She confirmed happily, beginning to help him pack up his lunch. “I think I’m finally ready to put myself out there again.. And to be frank, I really like you.”

“Well duh. Who doesn’t like me? I’m tall, handsome, and incredibly smart.” Shawn rolled his eyes just as the bell rung, signifying the second half of their school day. When she scoffed he continued, “So, uh, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Y/N smiled widely and nodded, shooing the man out of her class just as kids began to pour back in.

“Sounds amazing. Now get to class, Mendes.”

#my writing #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes imagines #masterlist

[kmcilrath]

Readerly Exploration #6 - October 18,2019

Course Reading 1: Sipe - “Talking Back & Talking Over: Young Children’s Expressive Engagement During Read-Aloud Storybooks”

The Big Take Away: Allowing students to actively and verbally express their responses during read-alouds is not disruptive, but allows for students to connect to the text in a deeper and more personal way and also encourages participation. It can also help students feel like not only a reader but a writer.

Nugget: THIS ARTICLE IS MY FAVORITE (so far!!) How can I just choose one nugget?! I really appreciated where Sipe points out that “Teachers have a lot to say about what counts as a response in their classroom interpretive communities and whether children are allowed or encouraged to speak during read-alouds.” This is SO TRUE!! I have witnessed this in my current placement. My host teacher encourages students to share their connections to the text both verbally and with hand motions. She guides the students with questions at times and other times just allows them to express themselves. It is wonderful. Today I saw the opposite of this which is really fitting. My mentor teacher left school early due to being under the weather and she was replaced with a building substitute. The substitute was plenty sweet, but when reading aloud to the students she shut them down everytime they tried to make connections and I could see the students get discouraged and begin to shut down and stop interacting in the read aloud. The teacher totally lost the student’s attentions, because she wasn’t allowing them to actively participate like they were used to. Sipe points out that it is so important as a teacher to accept a student’s expressions as valid responses.

Readerly Exploration Experience: For this Readerly Exploration, I decided to highlight excerpts from the chapter that reflect the author’s purpose as I read.

This was the perfect exploration to choose for this text. I was naturally inclined to underline the key points that Sipe was making because I connect with them so much. Sipe talks so much accepting non-standard responses to literacy and I could not agree with him more. I was struck that even though this was written in 2002 he makes reference to allowing students to connect to other types of untraditional literacy such as television and artwork which I know now goes with New Literacies Theory. So cool. I underlined later on in the text a specific description that is “storybook read-alouds are interpretive performances by the reader of the story. By acting out the story, children extend this performance to include themselves.” This to me is a huge point that Sipe is trying to express through this article. By allowing student response during story-time a teacher is making the lesson more student-centered. It is no longer a lesson that only the Teacher is participating in, but one that all students are welcome to take part in. I know from experience that if I am welcome to be an active participant in a lesson, I am much more likely to be engaged and learn the content. I feel that the same is true with first graders. I also underlined that through this process of engagement students “thought of themselves as authors.” This I think Sipe deems important, because it extends students from not only identifying as readers, but as also being writers which is so key in Literacy. There are many other things that I underlined that you will see in the media portion of this post, but those were two points that I thought really reflected Sipe’s purpose for writing.

This exploration was great, because it allowed me to be hands on with the text. I very rarely print out and read articles anymore (to save printing money and time) so this process of reading and underlining is a process I have not participated in in awhile. It was great though because I was able to mark key points that I could return to that I may have failed to remember if I did not highlight. I may not have been dancing around my apartment or singing while reading this article, but I feel that in some way, I was able to interact with the text in my own way by writing in the article.

Multimedia Extension:

Attached is a photo of the printed version of the text that I highlighted along with some writing in the margins so you can kinda see where my thoughts went as I read. I also included a gif. This to me represents the freedom and excitement that students will feel when their teacher allows them to respond to text naturally. This attitude to me, opens the door to a life long love of reading. 

[thegmdfangirl14]

A fanfic type thing I did for Eli part 1

The innocent...…

Looking back, you wonder how you could have been innocent, so willfully ignorant of everything that was really going on around you. But of course, it might have been nobody's fault but yourself that you hadn't seeked out answers in the first place.....

Of course, you believed you had no reason to in the first place, your life was great, you had loving parents, a doting uncle, a close circle of friends.... so why should you go out seeking more than what you had? Maybe that was what was wrong with you, the one imperfection in your already tangled bundle of insecurities and worries, that you were too curious, too stubborn, too weird, too geeky, just too much of everything in general.

You didn't care much about what everyone thought at first, until that one day you overheard your mom and your grandmother talking(or rather, arguing) about... you.

Although you typically didn't pay much attention to your mom's and grandmother's conversations, deeming them full of boring, grown up things, one line from your grandmother gave you pause.

"Really Selencia, I just don't want to see her grow up..... wrong like HE did." You were only mildly sure of who your grandmother was talking about: your other uncle, Uncle Betrayus. You only remembered very little about him, but your mom said he'd done something very bad, so he was... gone. Gone where, you didn't think of asking. Maybe a prison for bad people you'd though, as they said he'd been "imprisoned" somewhere. But why did your grandmother say you were going to grow up bad? Were you bad? Was that why she looked so disappointed in you when you read comics instead of playing dolls with the other "nice girls"? Or when you asked too many questions(you were a curious girl)? Or when you came home that one day after school with a busted lip after a fifth grader said your daddy was a dirty traitor? (You'd punched him in the guts for saying that. Your daddy wasn't a dirty traitor, he'd gone away for a while, and he'd come back to you and mom when he was done whatever work he was doing, you told yourself.....) And every time, the look she'd give you, or rather didn't give you, stirred something inside you. It wasn't until later that you realized your grandmother was disappointed in you, but you didn't know why she was......

You didn't remember much of what happened after that, except your grandma never came over to visit again. And when you asked your mom why grandma didn't come to visit anymore, your mother's gaze quickly turned angry, then sad, and she told you that "grandma couldn't come visit anymore, because we had a fight." About what, you didn't ask. It was a touchy topic, like the one about your father, or rather lack of one...…

After you heard your grandmother's words about how "bad" you were, and how you were going to end up turning out "wrong" (as a child of nine, it was the most logical conclusion you could come to), you made up your mind that day. You were going to be a good girl, and make sure that you weren't "bad", anymore.

It came easy to you after a while and eventually, you went through a sort of metamorphosis, if you could call it that, from Elliptica, the tomboyish, stubborn, comic reading, henjin(weirdo) to Eli, a happy go-lucky, fashionable, social butterfly with an upbeat attitude.

And you were so determined to be a good girl, so wrapped up in your own little world you'd created, that you tried to not notice the various imperfections your "perfect life.

Never mind that your new identity came with more than it's share of self-hate(over your knobbly knees, your flat chest, your huge feet, your own stupidity) or endless hours worrying over every little imperfection you possessed.

Never mind that your Uncle Spheros, even if he dotes upon you, is distant at best, and only remembers to call you twice a year(once on your birthday, and once before the end of the summer).

Never mind the fact your mother, even if she loves you, doesn't want to answer your questions about your father, and when he's going to come back.

Never mind that your mother barely keeps any pictures of your uncles(both of them, not just Uncle Betrayus), and she waves off your questions when one day, you find a picture of her, and your uncles tucked away in a box in the attic, and she tells you to throw it out, because she doesn't want to be reminded of them...(you keep the picture, without her knowing. There's no evidence that one uncle would go on to rule an entire nation, and the other would go on to be one of this world's worst foes. Everyone just looks.... happy. You should have got rid of it, but...… some small part of you wishes that you all could be a family. A real family, like the ones you watch on tv, even if that's impossible....)

You continue on like this, all your questions swirling inside you, until one day, out of the blue, your uncle Spheros invites you to stay the summer at the Roundhouse.(The last time you went, you were ten. You haven't seen your uncle in six years.)

You jump at the opportunity to get out of the stifling atmosphere of the house and your mother's silence.

After all, spending the summer with a relative you haven't seen for six years isn't going to cause you any trouble...…

(To be continued....)

#pmatga #minific #elliptica #part 2 to come out soon

[betslangland]

Don’t Downgrade Depression

~The Long(ish) inside scoop on how someone with a rad life struggled with depression~

What depression is not

1. Sadness because of a situation…

-There’s a difference in ‘feeling’ depressed and ‘being’ depressed

2. Pin Pointed ‘feelings’ that explain your depression…    

-Those with depression can’t necessarily tell you how they’re feeling, they’re just lacking…

3. A lack of happiness in ones life or being a victim to life…

-A ‘lack of happiness may. In turn feeling sorry for yourself because of your ‘social status’.

What depression is…

1. Feelings of shame and insignificance…

-Shame, when you fail or mess up.

2. A lack of knowing…

-You may know something is wrong but you can’t seem to put a finger on it because everything around you seems to be fine, so you’ve convinced yourself that you’re fine too though you’re miserable.

3.Loneliness even though you may have the greatest support system and you may have several people               around you…

-You can have the most followers on all the social medias, the best of friends and an amazing family, but that doesn’t change the state of your lonely mind.

4. Brokenness/Failure

-You’re always finding fault with yourself because you could’ve done something better.   Depression isn’t something that should be downgraded. I used to be so flippant judging others when they’d say they were depressed when they had a happy life. (i.e. they had a lot of friends, they were close to their family, they had a great job etc.) I would talk so poorly about these ‘depressed people’ because they had it made. I’d judge them and say they shouldn’t feel that way because everyday is a blessing, they should be so grateful, they shouldn’t take advantage of this one life blah blah blah…..all the ‘feel good’ mantras. Though those mantras are accurate I was losing the whole picture.

I soon learned how miserable depression could be and how life draining it could make you so I no longer spoke poorly about those people.

Like I stated above, there are times when people claim depression but are just having a bad day, they broke up with their lover, their dog died, etc. I’m not downgrading those events, but that’s not what I’m talking about here and that’s not depression.

There’s a difference in feeling depressed and being in a depressive state of mind. Feeling depression is something everyone goes through in life. It’s inevitable, because life sucks sometimes, but being depressed, sitting in it and living that life is another story. I was depressed and didn’t even realize it. The things I had been facing, the lies I had been telling myself and the illusion of my life I had been lying to others about for years, I had convinced myself was the norm. I thought I could lie to myself and to my friends and family about how I was feeling to play off that I was always happy, because you’re never supposed to have a bad day, right?...Wrong!

Events in my life started to not line up with me anymore and I was so exhausted of being this person who wasn’t me just to please everyone else. When I reevaluated my life I realized I was more miserable in the time being than genuinely happy, and this was a problem.

I let my depressive state of mind become my idol since I was focusing more on the depression and the negative nature rather healing and on positive things. Like mentioned above I couldn’t pin point a significant ‘feeling’ of depression. Yes, I had many feelings during this time, but not one that led me to believe that I was  ‘depressed’. It was more of me trying to be a hard ass and shake off all the feelings and be tough. I learned first hand that if you don’t take a moment to feel those feelings and deal with them they will come to bite you in the ass later and be ten times worse.

You don’t have to have a rough upbringing to be in a depressive mindset. (Please read that again!!!)

I was raised in a great Christian family with more love around me than anyone could imagine. I was athletic and I was a musician so I was very busy, but somehow through all of the chaos of high school I formed bad mind habits of not feeling good enough. I didn’t feel good enough for my parents because I would end up getting B’s instead of A’s and I would hear, “Well, why aren’t you getting A’s?”, which I interpreted that as, “Why aren’t you working hard enough. Your hard work is not noticed. You aren’t significant because you got a B.”

Crazy I know, but that’s where my mind went.

My mother never ever said those things, but that’s how my brain interpreted them. Everything came back down to not working hard enough. I never felt good enough being raised in a Christian environment. In my household there was no cursing, no bad language, and no negative comments, but I’ll be completely honest with you in saying that cursing, bad language and negativity come pretty naturally to me, which made me feel like there was something wrong with me internally since I didn’t have a ‘heavenly mindset’ all the time.

The thoughts I’d have would’ve been condemned and judged if they were ever uttered out of my mouth. I would slip up occasionally and say a curse word soon being accused of always saying them around my peers (which I didn’t) and not having my heart in the right place with God (which it was).

So from there I felt a sense of brokenness, confusion and not being good enough because I couldn’t express myself in the way that came naturally. I couldn’t because ‘God wouldn’t approve’ and ‘Christian’s just didn’t speak that way’. My mother made it very clear that I had other believers and non believers looking to me to be an example, so every move I made was judged and Lord forgive me if I did something and it wasn’t under the approval of another believer and was labeled as ‘ungodly’.

But what if something ‘bad’ did utter from my mouth? My mom would assume my heart wasn’t right with the Lord and I’d be sent to my room to read my Bible. Sounds like a legit punishment to me that solved the ‘issue’.

^insert biggest eye roll (sorry Ma)

~Let me pause here for a second to clarify something. I love the Lord and I would NOT be here writing this without him. In saying that I am NOT disrespecting nor am I disregarding a relationship with God. I am wholeheartedly taking you through a snip-it of my childhood and how I was raised to explain to you how I developed my, “I don’t feel good enough” mindset and attitude. I needed to clarify because 90% of what I had explained to you was negative, but without that negativity I wouldn’t be able to write this for you today. Also, the reason why my mother raised me the way she did (right or wrong) was because she held me at a higher standard than anyone else in this whole world. She expected nothing but the best from me. Carrying on!~

Body dysmorphia, negative body image, self-esteem issues and insecurities started in just the fourth grade. I can remember it like it was yesterday. While sitting next to a girl in Mrs. Edwards’ class, comparison stole my confidence, which would haunt me for years. This girl, Emily and I were sitting next to each other in class while we were doing a fun activity. You know how your legs turn into the size of Russia when you sit down? Well I noticed that for the first time. But when I noticed my legs I also noticed Emily’s legs…but hers were smaller.

Hmmm, weird. We’re practically the same stature so why are her legs smaller than mine?

Oh…is this what fat means?

Oh how I wish I could shake that 4th grade Bethany!

Fast forward to 5th grade…middle school, when you could sill have a bunch of guy friends without people freaking out about it.

(^insert another eye roll)

In fifth grade I sat with a group of guys at lunch everyday and one in particular noticed how I hadn’t been eating the food on my tray so he asked me about it, “Bethany! Are you not hungry?? Why aren’t you eating your food?”

I state very snooty like, “It’s very unhealthy food and I don’t want to get fat!”

As adult as a 5th grader could be he rebuttals, “What?? Bethany, you’re in 5th grade. Why are you worried about getting fat right now??”

The only response to this question was trying to explain that I was planning ahead and how proud of myself I was for not eating all my food, because I remained, “self-controlled”, and “self-disciplined”.

But there was a HUGE issue.

I was SO HUNGRY!!

At this time my older sister was I high school and she was a 3 season athlete so she was always active. We had the same body structure but she was more fit than me because obvi, she was more active. My little baby brain couldn’t figure out why she was more fit than I was and why she could eat a candy bar and not feel shitty or not gain weight, but when I’d eat a candy bar I would belittle myself and tell myself over and over that I wasn’t good enough AND I felt like a cow. I remember asking my mom one day why she could eat whatever she wanted and my mom replied that she worked out all the time so she could eat those desserts and it wouldn’t affect her. I took this straight to heart and all I heard was, “She works out all the time, which means she can reward herself with food…”

Now I’m in high school and still (I was always the ‘big friend’ in elementary and middle school) labeled as the ‘big tomboyish’ friend. I thought I had kicked this title, but I was wrong. Being an athlete and being on the drumline didn’t help any…I hated the title. To me women were supposed to be very feminine, small boned, small breasted (which makes zero sense), short, quiet…cute little tiny tiny things and I was well aware I was none of those things. I was built durable (fancy terminology for “big framed”), I definitely did not have small breasts, I wasn’t feminine, I sure as hell wasn’t quiet, and I wasn’t a tiny tiny human. Men looked through me, usually to my other friends, and I associated not receiving attention due to my body structure.

I watched my food intake more so than most high schoolers. I exercised way more than what was needed, and I would assume never to shop for clothes because I would end up shopping in the men’s department because the shirts were naturally baggy. I remember having a boyfriend at the time and for years he had thought I was a very confident outgoing woman until he went swim suit shopping with me.

I was very hesitant about it because I wanted to remain that strong woman to him since he had no idea how insecure I really had been for years.

That was the first and last time he ever went shopping with me. I swore to myself he’d never go again because I was so extremely embarrassed with myself.

I cried.

A lot.

I just sobbed and sobbed in the dressing room looking at myself in the mirror wondering how I had let myself get ‘this far’. He kept knocking on the door to see if I was okay but I never let him in because I was so ashamed of how I looked. I would stare in the mirror and grab my belly and get SO angry that it was there! I would look at myself completely naked and ashamed and say to myself over and over and over, “You’re so fat!!! This is disgusting!” I would imagine if I could just take scissors and cut all the fat off. Then that would be okay! I just wanted to sit down without having to adjust my pants to cover up my belly!! I was so disgusted with myself.

But those feelings were normal, because every girl cries in the dressing room and thinks about taking scissors to their belly, right…?

I justified to myself that this was just a part of being a woman I had to get over and live with.

Now I’m in college.

Oh, college!

The 6 years I spent in college (YES, 6! I changed my major, okay!!) were the most trying, taxing, exhausting, fun, and difficult learning experiences of my life.

Now I'm in college and the uncontrollable stress of every day life and school was so great and so overwhelming. I'm a very type A personality, meaning if I don't have control over situations or I don't have any say over situations I tend to get anxiety and start feeling very vulnerable towards whatever scenario I was in at the moment. While I was in school I studied music education for four years until I switched to health promotion and business, which became my degree.

During my sophomore year in college my mother passed away from cancer. This undoubtedly rocked my world. What could I have control over anymore?

Now, for a type A personality having control is a HUGE characteristic, like I mentioned above. Since I wasn't able to control the environment around me the only thing I could 100% control was my body. This is when the disordered eating habits started to manifest and take control.

Before more explanation lets define these disorders.

Orthorexia Nervosa: "a medical condition in which the sufferer systematically avoids specific foods in the belief that they are harmful; an obsession with eating foods that one considers healthy."

Bulimia Nervosa:"eating disorder characterized by a cycle of bingeing and compensatory behaviors such as self-induced vomiting designed to undo or compensate for the effects of binge eating."

Anorexia Nervosa:“There are two main types of anorexia. Both types are characterized by irrational fear of weight gain and abnormal eating patterns. The restrictive type is what most people associate with this mental illness: The individual rigorously limits food intake, effectively starving the body of the nutrition and calories it needs.However, there is also a type of anorexia known as binge/purge anorexia, in which an individual purges after eating. Thus, this type of anorexia results in additional health problems, which are also caused by bulimia and binge-eating disorder.Another category of anorexia is known as atypical anorexia. In these cases, the individual meets some but not all of the criteria for anorexia. For example, they might restrict their food intake but not be underweight.”

I mentioned that I was essentially a control freak, but I didn't know that then. I can label these disordered eating habits as a control mechanism now but when I was in the midst of that way of life it seemed normal and imperative for me, like I was filling a void of vulnerability I didn't want to succumb to out of fear. This was a fear of being wrong, judged and rejected. I was fearful of judgment because I was the, "face of health" and the one who lived the "fit and healthy" lifestyle people would come to for inspiration and questions. So how crazy would it have been if I came out and confessed to how unhappy I was with my life and how I wanted nothing more than to eat normally and not exercise like a crazy person all the damn time.  

This wasn't an option though. People looked up to me and I couldn't be ‘normal’ like everyone else.

Though the 'healthy' lifestyle I was living was out of fear, it also came out of a place of shame and guilt.  

I'd feel disgusted with myself, utterly shameful, ugly, unworthy, and the biggest disappointment when I'd eat out of my 'macro or meal plan'. When I say I was strict with my food....I mean I was STRICT with my food!! Every single morsel of food I'd consume would be weighed and counted, to the last gram. If I had accidentally counted incorrectly or had forgotten to track a certain food my mind would be consumed with this failure and I wouldn’t be able to sleep and I’d end up doing extra cardio to ‘burn off the excess calories’.

(sounds crazy just typing it!)

I would eat 100% clean, with no cheating until I had planned a binge eating, "cheat day" or I was tired of eating chicken and broccoli and wanted something different because I could feel my sanity slipping because of the restrictions.

These days I'd usually consume copious amounts of food to turn around and feel the shame and guilt of "cheating" on my diet and "cheating" on everyone who looked at me as a health and fitness figure.

So I'd take ‘control over the situation’ and make myself throw up. I'd justify sticking my finger down my throat by lying to myself and convincing myself that I was sick and nauseas and needed to throw up because the food had ‘upset my stomach’.

I was lying. I didn't feel sick, I felt guilty, shameful and like a disappointment for not eating correctly...for 'falling off the wagon'.

What's messed up is that I felt bad for the foods I had eaten and not making myself throw up because I thought I was solving a problem. Twisted, huh?...  

I tried to act normal. I tried to be normal and eat out with friends and family. I tried to live out the 'balance' portion of health and fitness so people couldn't argue with me saying I was crazy or normal, but once I'd try I would always end up in the bathroom flushing guilt, shame and regret down the toilet.

Problem solved.

I remember a specific time I was having dessert with a friend at a restaurant and at this time I was in the midst of early recovery and I was tired of telling people no to going out all the time so I made myself go and ‘be normal’. The thing was I was trying SO hard to be normal it started becoming a chore and weird trying to be normal….(overthinking much??) Anyway, we went out and I ordered the smallest and the ‘better for you’ option.  I finished all of it and thought, “Okay, I got this!”. Nope I didn’t. I went to the bathroom (I actually had to go) and it felt like a drug…

A good analogy would be putting a recovering pill popper in a room full of hydrocodone…

It just doesn’t work.

Sooner than later I found myself over the toilet.

I walked back over to my friend red faced, watery eyes, chattering teeth, a broken heart and disappointment and she had no idea.  

Through this time I had zero confidence.

Zero confidence in my intelligence, my body, my mind, my music and my relationships. Just like any other insecure college woman I'd look for confidence through comments from men and that only led me down a road of seeking validation from other people and accepting sexual comments because I wanted to feel sexy and beautiful.

During these phases of dieting I decided to do a bodybuilding show.

To give you a little insight on my training I was consuming 800 calories a day, 1,000 calories on 'high carb days', while doing an hour on the stair master in morning and training in the evening after school. To put 1000 calories into perspective, that would be equivalent to one crispy chicken sandwich with a medium fry from McDonalds.  After a few months of this style of training I had lost a significant amount of weight....

Goals, right?!!

Wrong.

I had no boobs, no ass, my upper body was bony, I hadn't had a period in a year (which was caused by disordered eating), I would go weeks without having a bowel movement, and the only thing I could do recreationally was sleep because I was extremely miserable, exhausted and fatigued. I couldn’t form a complete sentence without concentrating because of the lack of nutrition going to my brain.

Kind of scary.

Though I wanted so desperately to eat what my friends were eating, I had an unusual sense of pride that I had to bring my own meals into restaurants or simply not eat and celebrate with my friends and family. Kind of like, "I'm better than you because I have better self-control...".  

Awful, I know!!

But the health and fitness industry is glorified for self-discipline and I was bound and determined to be the best and when I want to be the best nothing can stop me.

While training for the competition I would workout with my trainer and she would weight me about once a week. There were times when my goal would be to lose 4lbs in one week.

Do you understand how crazy that is??

Anyway, I’d come back the following week doing exactly what she wanted me to do and I’d step on the scale and sometimes I wouldn’t have dropped any weight or I would have dropped two pounds, which was completely unacceptable.

She’d stare at the number, shake her head and say, “You’re doing something wrong. You’re too big. You’re not losing enough weight.”

Can you imagine someone saying that to you??

She would accuse me of cheating on the diet, which as much as I hated that 8x11 eating disorder, I never once cheated on that god awful diet. She wouldn’t believe me because I wasn’t losing 4 pounds a week.

Those comments and the unbelief in me weighed heavy on my heart because I gave 100% during my prep! I hated every second of it but I was committed so I couldn’t quit!

It’s competition day. Oh boy.

I knew I wasn’t going to place because the girls were much much smaller than me and you could tell this hadn’t been their first show.

I walked backstage to setup my little secluded corner, because I honestly didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted a weeks worth of sleep and food. Lots and lots of food.

I finally setup my corner and I was looking at the rest of the girls get ready and I had something come over me…

“These girls look like the pictures I had on my wall when I was in high school….the fitness models I wanted to look like…” because ‘hard-work’ and ‘dedication’ would get you a 6 pack.

All that these girls could talk about was their hunger, tilapia, how much water they had to cut, how many diuretics they had to take and what they were going to eat after the show.

My mind started piecing things together while I was backstage. “These girls aren’t healthy…..they’re just shredded hungry girls.”

Right then and there my mind changed forever! I was angry and relieved all at the same time. I was angry because I felt like I had been lied to for years through magazines and the internet when women were being portrayed as ‘fit’. I was relieved because IT WASN’T REAL!!!! I didn’t feel like I had to be some skinny bitch that only ate spinach, tilapia, chicken and rice forever because nobody actually liked it and no one WANTED to do it!!

If these girls didn’t WANT to do it and it didn’t make them happy then why in the hell were they doing it?? Were there aesthetics more important and more valued than their time with family celebrating a birthday party, or a boyfriends birthday dinner?

I can recall this mental breakthrough like it was yesterday.

This is when my mindset started to become unveiled and all the lies from the health and fitness industry were becoming revealed and I was disgusted and I wanted to make a change right then!

I went into this body building competition with a very negative mindset because I hated everything about me. See, my goal throughout my fitness journey was the same as numerous other women…lose the belly and get skinny. To my surprise even after all the dieting and weight loss I still had a little bit of a belly. I was so confused!

After dieting for so long I was now lethargic, anemic, insecure though I had lost so much weight and I had the title of a ‘body builder’, hungry, exhausted, always sick, and even more miserable mentally than when I began this journey.

I thought, So after ALL that I sill don’t have what I worked my ass off for AND I’m even worse off?.....What was I missing?

And then I heard something so profound to me that put my mind into another dimension of thinking… Life should NOT be about weight loss, food, counting calories or your physique. Life has so much more to offer and you as a person have so much to offer other than how you look….Oh wow!!!

This mindset changed my life forever.

I thought I could deal with myself emotionally after my body building show so I decided to hire an online powerlifting coach who agreed that the way I dieted was destructive. We talked over the phone and she set me up with a training schedule and macros to start with after my show.

I was ecstatic to be lifting heavy again and to be eating yummy foods!

I thought I had a grip on the disordered eating habits because I was on the track to counting macros again! Yay!

A few months into powerlifting I was regaining strength back and gaining my weight back, which I was mentally ready for because my stage weight was unrealistic and I was okay with it because I needed the extra weight to lift heavy.

I had to check-in with my powerlifting coach each week with my macros for the day, my lifts and my weight for every day. I would reluctantly get on that scale but I did it because I had to. She started cutting my macros down bit by bit each week and I could feel myself start to panic. I would anxiously open my email to see if she had given me permission to eat more that week or I still had to cut down. I began hating check-ins. I was spending 1.5-2 hours in the gym every single day and I was exhausted.

Because of my body building experience I had downloaded helpful podcasts hosted by women who’ve been in the same place mentally as I had been in, but little did I know that I was still in the negative mental mindset when it came to my eating habits.

I was on my way to see my boyfriend at the time and I was headed to the gym but I was going to see him first. I was dreading going, but I couldn’t have any days off and I had to go so I didn’t have a choice.

I was listening to one particular podcast about the hosts’ experience with eating disorders and the breakdown and breakthrough she had gone through. She discussed the prep she went through and how awful it was (same), how she didn’t have a period (same), how she gave up time with her friends and family (same), how she gloated in the fact of having more ‘self-discipline’ when it came to not eating ‘bad’ foods (same), how she was still insecure with herself after the body building show even though she lost a lot of weight (same), how she didn’t have boobs and it made her insecure about her femininity (same), how she felt deprived of every food even healthy foods because she wasn’t ‘allowed’ to eat those things (same), how she was lethargic all the time (same), how she had 0 sex drive (same), how all she could do was sleep because she was so exhausted (same)………..the list goes on and on!

She stated in her podcast that once she realized there was an issue she told her mother in hopes for accountability and help towards her recovery,

“Once I told my mother about my disordered eating she knew something was going wrong and she told me that food had became my idol which means food was more important than anything else, including God.”

When I heard these words coming out of my radio and after all the mental connections I had made with this girl via podcast, I broke down. Every vulnerability I had at the moment was broken down by those words. My walls had been completely torn down. All I could do was cry.

How could I have let myself get to this point?

How could I have I let myself get so unhealthy?

How could I have lied to so many people?

How could I have lied to myself for so many years?

My world changed dramatically! I didn’t go to the gym that day because I talked to my boyfriend about my struggles. He knew I had been struggling all along so he wasn’t surprised when I came out and explained how miserable I actually had been.

-Side note: I am a problem solver. Once I have found a problem, I will fix it. I won’t spend time relishing over the problem, I will go above and beyond to fix whatever the issue might be.

I talked to my former boyfriend about the steps I should take and if I should email my coach and explain to her that I couldn’t continue training with her and how I needed time to heal and recover from this disordered mindset. This was by far one of the scariest things I’ve ever done. I’ve ALWAYS had a training schedule! Not once have I gone into the gym and didn’t know exactly what I was going to do for that workout session. I was organized, I planned everything and I was prepared.

Now…I felt vulnerable, unorganized and I had a lack of preparation because someone wasn’t planning my workouts. I was confused.

I decided to shoot my coach a long and detailed email explaining why I couldn’t continue working with her. I was so nervous that once I received an email back I never opened it. I still haven’t.

After sending an email to my coach I knew I had to tell my family….

I sat down and wrote 5 pages worth of struggles, events and fear that was driven by the eating disorder. I copied 3; two for my sisters and 1 for my dad. God, this was so hard. They were so supportive and loved on me unconditionally.

I couldn’t have asked for a better support system.

I struggled to change. It was so hard. I knew I had an issue that needed to be dealt with and fixed so I became obsessed with change. I started listening to podcasts that dealt with struggling with eating disorders and the first thing they would suggest for recovery is telling your closest friends and family.

Oh, Lord.

I read numerous self-help books, specifically for eating disorders. I cleaned out my FB feed and IG feed of anything and everything that made me have comparison (i.e. bodybuilding account, IG stars who were fit, macro and ‘clean eating’ accounts) because I now knew this wasn’t reality, I journaled every single day about my thoughts towards recovery. I had no idea what hunger was. I couldn’t pin point when I was hungry, what I wanted to eat or when I should eat. I had been under macro counting and eating under an eating plan for so long I hadn’t ever had to think for myself when it came to food.

I was lost.

My dad would get so frustrated with me because I couldn’t tell him when I was hungry. I couldn’t be mad at him because he had zero comprehension of my struggles or my mindset with food. His thoughts, just like any normal person, would be, my stomach is growling…I must be hungry…I’m going to eat now. Instead of mine, which was, My stomach is growling…does that mean I should eat or I should drink more water?....What should I eat if I did end up eating?...I didn’t work out so I probably shouldn’t eat a lot…Maybe I should just eat some vegetables or protein…But that doesn’t sound good…What sounds good?....Pancakes…That sounds good, but there’s no nutritional value in pancakes, there’s too much sugar, there’s no protein and all I’d want to do is slather it in peanut butter, and peanut butter has way too much fat…I also don’t have any sugar free syrup, which sugar free isn’t even good for you so I probably shouldn’t eat that anyway….I don’t even have the protein pancakes brand mix so it would just be the regular pancake mix and I can’t have that because it has too many carbs…….I can go on and on.

It was exhausting.

Eating should be simple, but it definitely wasn’t.

This was the longest progression of recovery. After telling my family I started documenting everything on Twitter, Tumblr, my business FB page and IG. I knew that if I had been dealing with these issues I knew that someone else had been dealing with them as well. I wanted to be that person who brought freedom and a great message to someone who needed it. I wanted to be able to tell these women that they are worth it and they make a difference despite the lies they’ve been telling themselves.

I worked so hard on my recovery!

Coupled with journaling and posting on social media I practiced words of affirmation. And when I say I practiced words of affirmation, I mean I spent hours writing phrases of ‘who I was’ and words proclaiming victory all over my mirror in my bathroom. I took white copy paper and on each piece of paper I wrote something different, something uplifting and motivating. I covered half of my mirror in my bathroom so I could see them and say them to myself everyday.

I had a ritual. Every morning I’d stand in front of my mirror (not looking at myself) and would say each phrase on those pieces of paper.

Did I believe the words coming out of my mouth at the time?

HELL NO…

But did I do it anyway, because faith comes by believing and believing comes by hearing?....

HELL YES…

Do I believe those things now because I made it a habit to say them every day?...

HELL YES…

On my body length mirror I wrote ALL over it in marker claiming more words of affirmation and positivity.

I also had strict rules so I wouldn’t be tempted to think negatively towards myself, such as not looking at myself in the mirror naked or when I was getting ready for school. Some of you might think, “But aren’t you supposed to look at yourself and think positively about the way you looked right then? Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to do all along?”

Yes, you’re right, but I’ll be honest with you at that moment in my recovery I wanted to feel like a straight beautiful badass without looking in the mirror, because if I had already felt like a beautiful badass and something in the mirror distracted me from feeling that positivity towards myself I would’ve backtracked and started relapsing on the negative thoughts. I was trying to stay clear of all ‘triggers’ (I hate that word) for myself personally and looking at myself naked was one of them.

I read numerous self-help, motivational and recovery from disordered eating books. I was a professional at reading by this point.

I read one book in particular that encouraged doing yoga and meditation when you could feel your mind and thoughts shifting to distractions or negativity.

You know what?......it actually helped! I can’t remember anything else in that book (it was too ‘yogi woo-woo’ for me) other than one simple yoga/meditation practice that would center my mind back on the ‘here and now’ instead of on the food, exercise, clean eating or macros. I still use these practices today!

Hold please….you’re thinking today? I thought this whole thing was about recovering from depression and eating disorders!

Well princess, you’re not wrong; however, once you’ve been addicted to something you’re going to have those addictions come back to haunt you occasionally.

Let me explain further.

I’ve spent years conquering disordered eating habits. Is there still a portion of me that struggles occasionally with thoughts of comparison? Sure, BUT because I had my rituals and proclaimed those words of affirmation, I truly believe them now and I say those phrases and who I believe I AM to myself every single day.

You see, recovery and victory is a process. A very long, long, long process. It’s hard. It’s mentally exhausting. It’s taxing. Sometimes you’d rather just throw in the towel and jump back on that addictive train because it’s comfortable. But you also know that past the blood, sweat and tears is peace of mind, love and contentment.

I’ll be vulnerable and honest with you.

Have I binged and purge all while stating and hash tagging about eating disorder recovery? Yes.

Have I felt guilt and shame if I ate a yummy meal for a holiday? Yes.

Have I felt disappointment if I went over my calories and/or macros for the day? Yes. What’s the difference now?.........

Now, I don’t dwell on those things.

Now, I notice the feeling. I notice where the feeling is coming from and why I’m feeling that way and take a moment and let myself feel that way. Then I either meditate on the good, I speak affirmations, I proceed to tell myself that life is NOT about those worries and I list things I’m specifically grateful for to put my mind back on track. I’ve been doing this for so long that this process happens in just a few seconds then I’m back in the right mindset and back to conquering the eating disorder that once controlled every aspect of my life.

Do these struggles happen every day like they used to when I first started the recovery process? No.

I’ve trained my mind to prioritize things in life. Now the numbers on a scale and the ‘feelings’ towards food is not a priority in my life.

I’ve learned that losing weight, hours spent in the gym, cardio, the foods I eat and sacrificing time with friends and family is NOT what life is about. I would lay awake at night planning my meals out on the app MyFitnessPal, which calculates macros and calories and I would calculate to the very last gram what I was going to eat the next day. So number one, I could hit my designated macros for the day and so I could save time and stress throughout the next day planning food. This was such an unhealthy mindset and approach towards meal prepping and planning meals in general. I’ve spent so much time practicing healthy habits that I can meal prep without the mental struggle of calculating every morsel of food.

How did I approach recovery?

I approached recovery very quickly because I knew I had an issue and I wanted it resolved as soon as possible. I HATED knowing that there was an issue with my mental status! I thought I had been ‘doing everything right’ until now…

I filled my mind with nothing but uplifting, positive reminders that ‘gym life’, counting macros and my weight weren’t on my ‘priorities list’. I was reading a book on recovery and the author asked the readers to journal 5 things that we loved doing that wasn’t based around food or exercise.

Do you know how many I listed?

One.

I literally couldn’t think of anything except for writing. I was dumbfounded and embarrassed. It was coming to focus that I had been a slave to the fitness lifestyle and hadn’t let anything else enter my life……no new forms of movement, no new experiences, no new relationships, no new adventures…..nothing.

Though I had listed one thing I loved doing besides exercise, I started doing that one thing more and more and more.

Lets review how recovery was approached throughout this time. Some of these steps have already been discussed so bare with me.

-Reading/Meditation/Yoga

-Podcasts

-Cleaning social media

-Words of affirmation

-Eating without distractions

Podcast listening was vital to my recovery. I listened to the Mind Body Musings Podcast hosted by Maddy Moon, and she gave numerous tips on how to recover and the steps she took for her recovery. One in particular was to clean out all social media accounts of people you were following that would make you question your own body or life AND REPLACE it with something NOT fitness related; such as, beaches or puppies. Girl, do you know how many beach and dog accounts I follow on IG?! Too many at this point! She made it clear that if you take something out it NEEDED to be replaced with something uplifting and beneficial. This fills your mind with positivity instead of a deprivation. So one afternoon I sat down and scrolled through the accounts I had been following and if their account was no longer beneficial to me I deleted that account and added an uplifting account that made me smile, dream or yearn for self-growth.

Words of affirmation.

I won’t go too much into detail about this because I’ve already covered this topic extensively above.  I just want to drive home how incredibly IMPORTANT talking over YOURSELF can be. It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe it at the moment because if you’re consistent and you keep proclaiming those words over you your brain starts to believe it. I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase, ‘fake it till you make it’? This is a perfect example!

Eating Without Distractions

This was an odd one for me to practice, but it was very effective. Nine times out of ten we’re busy while we’re eating; talking to someone, on the computer or playing with your cell phone. There was a challenge on a podcast that had you eat with no distractions. Eat while doing nothing else besides eating. Kinda weird, but this gave you a chance to appreciate food for what it is……food.

Without any distractions you’re able to appreciate every bite, the different tastes and smells and the texture to be grateful for being able to eat. If we’re distracted we’re usually finished with our meal before we actually realize what the food had tasted like because our attention isn’t at the task at hand. Ultimately this procedure formed gratitude and thankfulness for the food you were consuming. Just getting into the mindset of thankfulness is one of the most effective tools for recovery.

In Conclusion…I write this just so I can get the most important aspect across…struggles with depression are different. Not one is the same and not one situation that causes depression is the same.

Depression should not be downgraded.

I explained how I was raised in a wonderful Christian home with amazing parents, and guess what? I was depressed, I had substance abuse issues and I was addicted to food, or a lack there of.

LISTEN!

Now, it doesn’t matter what type of addiction, issue or struggle you have YOU ARE WORTH SO MUCH MORE!!! You are worth MORE than the sleepless nights due to anxiety, you are worth MORE than the cuts on your arm, you are MORE than skipping meals, you are MORE than making yourself throw up, you are MORE than using alcohol to cope, you are MORE than pills, you are MORE than feeling like sex is the ONLY way you feel worthy, you are MORE than what other people say or do to you, YOU ARE MORE!!

It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, who did what to you or what you’ve been through….those scenarios do NOT have to define you! There might be someone in your life telling you that you’re not good enough, you’re not smart enough, you’re not fast enough, you’re not talented enough….BUT their words do NOT have to define who you are as a person! Those words don’t have to mold your future or your potential!

You were designed and you are destined for GREATNESS!!!

Here’s the kicker though, are you ready?I watched a motivational speech by Will Smith and he spoke about Fault and Responsibility.He stated that it is NOT your fault that those things happened to you, but it is DAMN sure your responsibility to do something about it and to not let those words mold you into a person who falls victim and believes the whole world owes you something.

Being in ‘victim mode’ only sets you up to lose.

Victims do NOT succeed!!

Casting blame on others gets you nowhere!I’ll be honest with you in saying that I’ve lost a lot of relationships because they lived in victim mode—nothing was there fault and their sadness and depression were all due to something that had happened to them in their past. I’m not discrediting their awful experiences, because nobody deserves to be treated that way. But instead of using those experiences as fuel to live a better, kick ass life, they’ve chosen to do the exact opposite and live a life of blame. And let me be the first to tell you, their lives are miserable. They’re not happy people. They’re not content with their lives, they’re depressed and they suffer addictions.  It’s very sad to see because, like you, they were created for greatness.

I hope you’re starting to realize your worth and your potential through this post. It may take some time to start believing in your worth and start believing you’re more than what other people say and more than what society says about you, but once you’ve grasped that concept, nothing, I mean NOTHING will be able to hold you down from your potential and GREATNESS in life!!

You are more.

You are more than depression.

Depression doesn’t have to define you.  

My main purpose of writing this bit of biography and my main purpose in life is to show you that depression can come in every shape and size. Depression can occur to someone who’s been abused and depression can occur to someone who’s had a great upbringing. Depression doesn’t favor anyone. My other main purpose in life is to also tell you that YOU. ARE. NOT. ALONE! Life is hard and I lived my life acting like it wasn’t hard and everything was fine. Please don’t do that! Here are some findings of a National Institute of Mental Health study of 10,000 teenagers (ages 13 to 18) with eating disorders. Researchers found that the majority of teens with eating disorders did have contact with mental health care, school services, or general medical services. But, LESS THAN A THIRD had talked with a professional about their eating or weight problems.

Do you know what this means??

These mechanisms of depression CAN be AVOIDED! I wouldn’t have gone to anybody either and that’s what I’m here for…to come to YOU and express my empathy and love towards you! I get it! I get laying awake at night in misery and anxiety. My anxiety was all derived from my physical appearance and substance abuse but your anxiety could stem from something totally different, but I get it!

If no one has told you, “I love you”, or no one has encouraged you lately, well sister, I FUCKING LOVE YOU and I encourage you to KEEP MOVING FORWARD. Keep pressing through this crippling depression, because I PROMISE you if you give it your 100% effort to recover, you will recover and gain SO much strength to help another woman who might be struggling.

Sister, thank YOU so much for reading this post. It means the absolute world to me! Please pass this on to whomever you think would need it! I love you!!

You are destined for greatness!!

Love,

Bethany

#depression #eatingdisorders #bodypositivity #anxiety #disorderedeating #youreworthy #greatness #recovery #edrecovery

[losbella]

[saraseo]

[endevia]

The Importance of SEL to Education Success

Life is much simpler when you — as a parent or teacher — can point to one solution for a problem, solve it, and everything is golden. Success in school was like that when grades were the barometer and studying harder was the tool. Now, we know academic achievement is much more complicated.

“Students are telling us there’s a big missing piece in their education” –John Bridgeland, CEO of Civic

Today’s educators realize learning has as much to do with academics as how students get along with themselves and others. This is called “Social Emotional Learning” or SEL. It’s akin to the importance of play in teaching preschool kids to socialize with others, develop tenacity, and learn respect for those around them. If you’re not convinced of the importance of SEL, here’s what students say:

“Students and young adults believe SEL schools would create a more positive social and learning environment” — report by the Collaboration for Academic, Social and Emotional Learning (CASEL)

A positive attitude about themselves and others is linked to not only academic success but correlated to lessening the negative impact of future-ending problems such as drug use. It should surprise no one that as of mid-2018, two states have passed SEL measures, sixteen SEL-related bills and resolutions have been introduced, and twenty-three states are working on SEL standards.

What is SEL

–Image credit: https://casel.org/

SEL — social emotional learning — is not something even considered the responsibility of schools until recently but now, with the logarithmic uptick in violent issues at schools not to mention neighborhoods, education professionals are realizing that managing emotions, staying positive despite challenges, and making good and healthy decisions is not intuitive to many students.

SEL, according to CASEL is defined this way:

Social and emotional learning (SEL) is the process through which children and adults acquire and effectively apply the knowledge, attitudes, and skills necessary to understand and manage emotions, set and achieve positive goals, feel and show empathy for others, establish and maintain positive relationships, and make responsible decisions.

Frameworks, a not-for-profit group whose mission is to teach youth to manage their emotions, develop healthy relationships, and make good decisions for academic, career and personal success, defines it as:

“Social and emotional learning (SEL) is a positive youth development framework that refers to the building of skills needed to recognize and manage emotions, develop care and concern for others, make responsible decisions, establish and maintain positive relationships, and handle interpersonal situations effectively. These capabilities are critical foundations for academic learning and for a person’s long-term personal and professional success.”

You notice in neither of these definitions is there anything about academics, playing sports, or studying hard. SEL revolves around managing the effect of emotions on lives — and that’s huge.

Why teach SEL in schools?

Learning to manage emotions is positively correlated to many of the predictors for a successful life — improved academic achievement, getting better jobs, suffering less criminal activity, and achieving more robust mental health. The real question is why has this become the responsibility of schools?

First, students spend a good portion of each day at school. If they model appropriate SEL in those 8-10 hours, it will carry over into all parts of their lives. It will become a habit — the normal way they act.

Second, SEL provides a foundation for safe and positive learning and enhances the students’ ability to succeed. If it defines the school environment, students will get much more out of their learning time.

Third, combining SEL skills with academic development creates high-quality learning experiences and environments that empower students to be more effective contributors in their classrooms today and in their workplaces and communities tomorrow.

Finally, if SEL is practiced at school, it’s a natural next step to make parents partners in this learning approach. Parents can model the kinds of skills, attitudes, and behaviors they want their kids to master, knowing that effort is support by the child’s teacher. And with home advocacy, SEL will work better, faster, and more effectively.

SEL exercises

Dovetail Learning has put together a selection they call Toolbox

to assist students in emotional coping. Here are a few of them, mixed with other suggested exercises from teachers who use SEL training in their classes:

breathing — exactly what it says: Use this natural process to calm yourself and check in on your wellness.

Four at the Door — once a week, Marcia Mihalovic greets a class of third-graders at St. Stanislaus Elementary School with “Four at the Door.” She looks students in the eye. She says their name. She shakes their hand, and she gives them a hug.

let it go — “Don’t stress the small stuff and it’s all small stuff,” according to one of the foremost experts in happiness and stress reduction, Dr. Richard Carlson.

listening — pay attention not just with your ears but with your eyes and your heart. Be aware of what’s going on around you.

please and thank you — remember these kind words that show respect for others even when you’re busy

decoding faces — have students look at pictures of emotional faces and see if they recognize what the person is feeling.

SEL Resources

There are a variety of popular SEL resources available to teachers as they turn toward an SEL-oriented program. Here are three to get you started:

Toolbox

 by Dovetail Learning is a Kindergarten through 6th-grade SEL program that supports children in understanding and managing their emotional, social, and academic success.

Sunburst SafeSchools has three K-12 curricula focused on SEL — Mightifier, Q Wunder, and reThinkIt. Which is best for you will depend upon your students’ and your school’s needs.

Kiddom, an all-in-one school ecosystem to plan, assess, and analyze student learning, has long focused on the importance of teaching the whole child. As part of this approach, they integrate many SEL tools into their program and make a variety of SEL-related teacher tools available for free such as the SEL 101 and SEL rubric.

Vocabulary

When discussing SEL with colleagues, you’re bound to be confronted with vocabulary specific to this topic. Here are two common words you’ll hear and what they mean:

Whole Child Development — this learning approach ensures that all parts of a child are supported in learning — academic, physical, emotional — not just what goes into the brain, with the understanding that all of these work together to contribute to a student’s long-term success.

Emotional Intelligence (EI) — the student’s aptitude for skills related to communicating well and getting along with others. This is often equated with Emotional Quotient (EQ).

***

Theodore Roosevelt once said:

“No one cares how much you know until they know how much you care.”

That’s why — out of dozens of reasons for success — only one will be “How smart are you?” Doesn’t it make sense to teach those “other” skills to students?

More

For more on SEL, check out this infographic from Sunburst Safeschools:

— published first to TeachHUB

More on SEL

Empatico-Build Global Awareness in Students

New from Kiddom: SEL Rubrics

Beyond Digital Literacy: How EdTech Fosters Children’s Social-Emotional Development

Jacqui Murray has been teaching K-18 technology for 30 years. She is the editor/author of over a hundred tech ed resources including a K-12 technology curriculum, K-8 keyboard curriculum, K-8 Digital Citizenship curriculum. She is an adjunct professor in tech ed, Master Teacher, webmaster for four blogs, an Amazon Vine Voice reviewer, CSTA presentation reviewer, freelance journalist on tech ed topics, contributor to NEA Today and TeachHUB, and author of the tech thrillers, To Hunt a Sub and Twenty-four Days. You can find her resources at Structured Learning.

The Importance of SEL to Education Success published first on https://medium.com/@greatpricecourse

[statrano]

The Importance of SEL to Education Success

Life is much simpler when you — as a parent or teacher — can point to one solution for a problem, solve it, and everything is golden. Success in school was like that when grades were the barometer and studying harder was the tool. Now, we know academic achievement is much more complicated.

“Students are telling us there’s a big missing piece in their education” –John Bridgeland, CEO of Civic

Today’s educators realize learning has as much to do with academics as how students get along with themselves and others. This is called “Social Emotional Learning” or SEL. It’s akin to the importance of play in teaching preschool kids to socialize with others, develop tenacity, and learn respect for those around them. If you’re not convinced of the importance of SEL, here’s what students say:

“Students and young adults believe SEL schools would create a more positive social and learning environment” — report by the Collaboration for Academic, Social and Emotional Learning (CASEL)

A positive attitude about themselves and others is linked to not only academic success but correlated to lessening the negative impact of future-ending problems such as drug use. It should surprise no one that as of mid-2018, two states have passed SEL measures, sixteen SEL-related bills and resolutions have been introduced, and twenty-three states are working on SEL standards.

What is SEL

–Image credit: https://casel.org/

SEL — social emotional learning — is not something even considered the responsibility of schools until recently but now, with the logarithmic uptick in violent issues at schools not to mention neighborhoods, education professionals are realizing that managing emotions, staying positive despite challenges, and making good and healthy decisions is not intuitive to many students.

SEL, according to CASEL is defined this way:

Social and emotional learning (SEL) is the process through which children and adults acquire and effectively apply the knowledge, attitudes, and skills necessary to understand and manage emotions, set and achieve positive goals, feel and show empathy for others, establish and maintain positive relationships, and make responsible decisions.

Frameworks, a not-for-profit group whose mission is to teach youth to manage their emotions, develop healthy relationships, and make good decisions for academic, career and personal success, defines it as:

“Social and emotional learning (SEL) is a positive youth development framework that refers to the building of skills needed to recognize and manage emotions, develop care and concern for others, make responsible decisions, establish and maintain positive relationships, and handle interpersonal situations effectively. These capabilities are critical foundations for academic learning and for a person’s long-term personal and professional success.”

You notice in neither of these definitions is there anything about academics, playing sports, or studying hard. SEL revolves around managing the effect of emotions on lives — and that’s huge.

Why teach SEL in schools?

Learning to manage emotions is positively correlated to many of the predictors for a successful life — improved academic achievement, getting better jobs, suffering less criminal activity, and achieving more robust mental health. The real question is why has this become the responsibility of schools?

First, students spend a good portion of each day at school. If they model appropriate SEL in those 8-10 hours, it will carry over into all parts of their lives. It will become a habit — the normal way they act.

Second, SEL provides a foundation for safe and positive learning and enhances the students’ ability to succeed. If it defines the school environment, students will get much more out of their learning time.

Third, combining SEL skills with academic development creates high-quality learning experiences and environments that empower students to be more effective contributors in their classrooms today and in their workplaces and communities tomorrow.

Finally, if SEL is practiced at school, it’s a natural next step to make parents partners in this learning approach. Parents can model the kinds of skills, attitudes, and behaviors they want their kids to master, knowing that effort is support by the child’s teacher. And with home advocacy, SEL will work better, faster, and more effectively.

SEL exercises

Dovetail Learning has put together a selection they call Toolbox

to assist students in emotional coping. Here are a few of them, mixed with other suggested exercises from teachers who use SEL training in their classes:

breathing — exactly what it says: Use this natural process to calm yourself and check in on your wellness.

Four at the Door — once a week, Marcia Mihalovic greets a class of third-graders at St. Stanislaus Elementary School with “Four at the Door.” She looks students in the eye. She says their name. She shakes their hand, and she gives them a hug.

let it go — “Don’t stress the small stuff and it’s all small stuff,” according to one of the foremost experts in happiness and stress reduction, Dr. Richard Carlson.

listening — pay attention not just with your ears but with your eyes and your heart. Be aware of what’s going on around you.

please and thank you — remember these kind words that show respect for others even when you’re busy

decoding faces — have students look at pictures of emotional faces and see if they recognize what the person is feeling.

SEL Resources

There are a variety of popular SEL resources available to teachers as they turn toward an SEL-oriented program. Here are three to get you started:

Toolbox

 by Dovetail Learning is a Kindergarten through 6th-grade SEL program that supports children in understanding and managing their emotional, social, and academic success.

Sunburst SafeSchools has three K-12 curricula focused on SEL — Mightifier, Q Wunder, and reThinkIt. Which is best for you will depend upon your students’ and your school’s needs.

Kiddom, an all-in-one school ecosystem to plan, assess, and analyze student learning, has long focused on the importance of teaching the whole child. As part of this approach, they integrate many SEL tools into their program and make a variety of SEL-related teacher tools available for free such as the SEL 101 and SEL rubric.

Vocabulary

When discussing SEL with colleagues, you’re bound to be confronted with vocabulary specific to this topic. Here are two common words you’ll hear and what they mean:

Whole Child Development — this learning approach ensures that all parts of a child are supported in learning — academic, physical, emotional — not just what goes into the brain, with the understanding that all of these work together to contribute to a student’s long-term success.

Emotional Intelligence (EI) — the student’s aptitude for skills related to communicating well and getting along with others. This is often equated with Emotional Quotient (EQ).

***

Theodore Roosevelt once said:

“No one cares how much you know until they know how much you care.”

That’s why — out of dozens of reasons for success — only one will be “How smart are you?” Doesn’t it make sense to teach those “other” skills to students?

More

For more on SEL, check out this infographic from Sunburst Safeschools:

— published first to TeachHUB

More on SEL

Empatico-Build Global Awareness in Students

New from Kiddom: SEL Rubrics

Beyond Digital Literacy: How EdTech Fosters Children’s Social-Emotional Development

Jacqui Murray has been teaching K-18 technology for 30 years. She is the editor/author of over a hundred tech ed resources including a K-12 technology curriculum, K-8 keyboard curriculum, K-8 Digital Citizenship curriculum. She is an adjunct professor in tech ed, Master Teacher, webmaster for four blogs, an Amazon Vine Voice reviewer, CSTA presentation reviewer, freelance journalist on tech ed topics, contributor to NEA Today and TeachHUB, and author of the tech thrillers, To Hunt a Sub and Twenty-four Days. You can find her resources at Structured Learning.

The Importance of SEL to Education Success published first on https://seminarsacademy.tumblr.com/

[vellene]

Another fan favorite and major key, Issue 53, the first appearance of Abraham Ford, Rosita Espinosa, and Eugene Porter. First of all, a huge shout-out to Mike at Sterling Silver Comics, from whom I also bought absolutely gorgeous first prints of Issue 6 and Issue 19. The condition of this book completely surpassed my expectations and it's a very collectible beauty. I'm no professional grader, but I think I'd still be shocked if it didn't come back as a 9.6 or 9.8. Sharp corners, lies totally flat, the staples aren't rusty or loose, no stains or breaks in color, the spine’s smooth and clean as a whistle, and it has a glossy cover like it's fresh off the press, despite its age being close to a decade.

With his gung-ho personality, Abraham reminds me so much of Cid Highwind in FFVII, even down to his knack to swear like a sailor, which is second only to Negan's. Michael Cudlitz really bought back that fiery, smart-ass attitude that I really missed from S1/S2 Daryl and added a lot of much needed levity to a really bleak situation, especially fresh after the dark and depressing events at the prison. In the comics, Rosita didn't have nearly as much development as her TV counterpart, but Christian Serratos did a really excellent job at drastically expanding Rosita's fanbase, succeeding in giving her more depth and much more relationships with other characters so she doesn't feel like just an accessory to Abraham and Eugene. And Eugene, the quiet, eccentric kid who sits by himself at the lunch table, rounds off the trio with an intellect that's only matched by his awkwardness. He does manage to rein in some of his more off-putting quirks eventually and he's really shining in the comics as of late.

It just doesn’t feel right owning an issue so clean without the respective actors’ signatures on it. Michael might be slightly harder to track down than Christian and Josh, but a dude can dream!

#personal #The Walking Dead #Issue 53 #Abraham Ford #Rosita Espinosa #Eugene Porter #Sterling Silver Comics #comics