creative leaning

MariChat May Day 5: CopyCat

Yes, yes I know I was supposed to do batons.  But I needed to switch things up a bit, so humor me, please?

This is for @seasonofthegeek!  You’re a creative power house, and your frequent updates are making what is already a pretty shitty month a whole hell of a lot better.

Thwack!  The lump of dough slammed back into the floured counter top, only to be lifted and turned and slammed down once again.   Flour dusted everything within a meter radius of where she stood.  Chat raised a brow at his irate friend, but he rather thought that in her ranting, she’d forgotten that he was sitting there.

“Unprincipiled,” she muttered angrily.












…thieving copy-cat!”

“Leave the cats out of it, Princess!”

“I just—aargh!”


“Th-that oily sack of flour had the nerve to come in to our store and insult my Papa!” Marinette pounded her fist into the innocent dough furiously.  “And this was after that swine stole our recipes!  Our secret family recipes!! ”

Chat leaned forward on the counter, propping his chin in one gloved hand.   “Ok, I get the insult thing, and that’s bad enough.  But how do you know he stole your recipes?”

“He’s offering the exact same menu that we do.”  She threw her hands up in the air wildly, adding more flour to the cloud around her.  “What kind of slime ball opens an identical shop just a few blocks away from the first, and offers the exact same menu, but cheaper?”

“That doesn’t mean he stole them, though.”

“Well, he still copied our menu.”  She went back to working the dough with another emphatic thwack.  “And he still insulted Papa.”  Thwack.

“What can you do about it?”

“Nothing.”  Thwack.  “Except wait for people to realize that his technique is abysmal—thwack—and his ingredients are inferior—thwack—and to come back here where they belong.”  Thwack.

“Hmm. I suppose that’s something, at least.”  Chat eyed the dough thoughtfully.  “Didn’t you tell me once that you’re not supposed to over-work the dough?”

“Better I overwork this dough than his stupid—thwack—doughy—thwack—face!”   She slammed the dough down one last time, and then buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

“Princess?”  Chat was unprepared for the abrupt shift from fury to tears.  He stood from his bar stool and rounded the counter to wrap his arms around her shaking body, pressing her face (hands and all) into his chest.   “Marinette?  Dieu, don’t cry.”

“B-but what if his stupid bakery puts our bakery out of business?  What if people confuse the two bakeries and think that we’re the ones who suck?  What if—”  She broke off abruptly and looked up at his face in consternation.  “Chat Noir, are you laughing?”

“No.”  He snickered.  “Maybe.  You’re just so creative in the things that you worry about.”

“Creative?”  She leaned away from him, narrowing her eyes dangerously.   “Creative?  If we lose this bakery my family—“

“You’re not going to lose the bakery, Mari.”  She opened her mouth to argue and he shook his head, speaking over her.  “You won’t.   This is one of the most popular bakeries in Paris, and your loyal customers are not going to suddenly forget where you are.  I don’t blame you for being upset, but I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

She blew out a breath and dropped her head forward onto his chest.  “I suppose you’re right.  And it’s not like worrying would do any good anyway.”

“Nope.”  He pulled her close again, and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you Chat.”  She wrapped her arms around his waist, and squeezed gently.  “Thanks for listening to my ranting, and…for being here.”

He squeezed back.  “That’s what knights are for, Princess.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, still holding one another.  Marinette sighed happily, and nuzzled a little closer to Chat.

“Besides, I want to be the only one getting a rise out of you.”

“Aaannnd you ruined it.”  She pushed away from him with a groan.  “Don’t make me throw you out, after you were so sweet.”

He grinned unrepentantly.  “Don’t go indulging any half-baked ideas, Princess.”


“You know you loaf me.”

“Unh, Chat!  You’re ridiculous!”

“Yes, but now you’re smiling.”

I know I haven’t officially introduced everyone for @threadercomic, but it’s pride month! From left to right: Ezra-homosexual, Dar-demisexual, Mattie-bisexual. 

You’ve probably heard of gay and bi before, but let me tell you about demi. Here’s a great (slightly nswf) comic by @alphabetsoupcomic about it here: demisexuality. There’s a giant ace-spec rep gap and it’s one of many reasons why Dar is important to me. 💜 

Vanilla (NSFW)

Okay so I changed this request a little bit because I honestly think that Gray’s first reaction would be some sort of panic attack. Also, this is a bit less fluffy than the smut I’ve written for this blog thus far. Nothing that I think is triggering but there is less romance if you will. Hope you still enjoy it, nonnie. Thank you for waiting!

Originally posted by clubeskimo

Gray couldn’t help but replay the night before in his mind. It had been one of those work nights that leeched into the early hours of the morning. The ones when he got caught up in his work and you felt compelled to bring his dinner to the office while it was still hot. Even serving  his plate before your own so that you could be sure he ate properly.

A pang of guilt hit Gray as he watched your efforts. He could tell by how slowly your were repacking the food containers after eating together that you didn’t want to leave him. But work was work. Experience had taught you both that it was better to leave each other be during his creative process. Reluctantly, you leaned down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before you left. That’s when your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Break room asap. Emergency movie night. - Hoody

“I guess I’m not leaving yet.”

“I’ll pick you up when I’m done,” Gray smiled up at you from his office chair. “It shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Translation: at least another hour”, you thought to yourself.

You met Hoody a few months after moving to Seoul. Looking back you knew how critical of a time she came into your life. Seoul was all around an adjustment for you. You had hated it despite your best efforts and it was a rare night when you came home without immediately flopping on the bed to cry. You told yourself that you were being dramatic. That you were finally a “responsible adult” and you weren’t going to ruin it by running away from your job and apartment.

On a particularly desperate night, you ordered carryout from the ramen shop three blocks away just for an excuse to get some exercise. The city at night was a different brand of beautiful. The streetlamps left an eerie yellow haze on the pavement. Everything had an unsteady stillness to it as if the streets were ready to burst into life at any moment.

The nights were just starting to get cold and you hugged your oversized sweater closer to you as you rounded the corner. Ahead you saw a couple arguing so you turned the volume in your headphones down so that you could eavesdrop.

“Baby don’t be like this,” he said.

“I told you we’re through!”

“We’re through when I saw we’re through.”

The woman pushed him away from her and tried to walk away but he followed.

“What are you going to do? Call your boys on me? I wonder how much you’ll have to fuck them as a thank you.”

He was just about to grab her wrist to yank her back from the club door when you interrupted.

“Excuse me!” You said, launching into your well-rehearsed foreigner routine. “My Korean isn’t very good but could you tell me how to get to Line 7 please?”

Both of them momentarily lost their composure and stared back at you with shocked expressions.

“You deal with this bitch,” he spat at her as he walked away.

When he was out of sight, you turned back to see the woman visibly shaken. She was frantically wiping away at her running mascara while stifling a sob.

“Line 7 you said?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you answered in perfect Korean. “I just wanted to help.”

“I guess that makes you my hero,” she said giving you a weak laugh.

“I could get used to being called that.”

In truth, you never wanted to stop being her hero because from that day on Seoul didn’t seem so terrible. You were fast friends. Constantly spending your free time together though it took her a while to introduce you to the AOMG crew. She was as protective of them as they were of her which you could respect. And you knew that you owed everything that you had built with Gray to her which is why he barely flinched at your spur of the moment movie nights.

“Translation: bitch session”

A couple hours later and Gray had hit a metaphorical wall with composing. He rubbed his eyes in frustration before shutting his laptop for the night.

He could hear your giggles even before he opened the break room door. You and Hoody were curled up on opposite ends of the couch sipping on spiked hot chocolate.

“I knew this movie was going to be good.”

“You didn’t lie.”

You raised your glasses towards one another in mutual congratulations before taking a long sip.

“The sex scene was a little disappointing though,” she said.

Gray felt his ears burn red. The sudden realization that he shouldn’t be hearing the rest of this conversation, that maybe he should have knocked first, hit him hard. But there was a part of him which wouldn’t allow him to move that was anxious to hear your reply.

“It was a little vanilla for my taste. Relied too much on the emotion.”

“Exactly! I’m glad somebody understands. It doesn’t always have to be about feelings.”

“But I guess that works for some people.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.”

Hoody gave an exaggerated wink which sent you both into another fit of giggles. Gray, on the other hand, was left with more questions than he preferred running through his mind. Was he “vanilla”?  Or were you simply at the point where all sex becomes vanilla? Were you going to get bored of him?


He nearly jumped when you slid one of your legs over him to straddle his lap.

“Earth to Sunghwa.” You couldn’t help but smile at his startled face. He got so engrossed in his own thoughts whenever there was an album coming up that you’d grown used to it. However, that didn’t stop you from teasing him about it from time to time. “There’s my favorite space cadet.”

“Sorry, jagi. Were you saying something?”

“Nothing important but what’s gotten into you? You’ve been like this all day.”

He massaged circles with his thumbs on the small of your back which made you shiver. He tilted his chin up, a subtle demand for a kiss which you happily obliged.

“Tell me I’m not boring,” he said.

“Of course you’re not.”

You felt his shoulders relax a little at your response. It broke your heart to think he could believe such a thing. You wanted to make him feel appreciated.

You fiddled with the button on his pants and pulled them down just enough to better grind yourself over his erection. Gray let his head fall back on the couch cushion with a moan as you found your rhythm. You leaned your upper body against his chest and bent down to whisper in his ear.

“You could never bore me, Sunghwa.”

Your voice came out more taunting than you had intended and Gray snapped his head back up. He stood without warning, hoisting you up with him by your hips, and hurried down the hallway to your bedroom.

“I need you to prove it.”

He laid you down on the bed, tearing back the covers with his free hand in the process. You struggled to get your jeans off quickly while Gray rummaged through your dresser drawers. He stopped you as you were pulling the shirt over your head and gently pressed you back down to the mattress with your eyes still covered.

“You’re going to have to trust me. Can you do that?”

His fingers traced up your sides where he knew you were ticklish just to watch you squirm. You nodded eagerly, your breathing growing heavier with anticipation as Gray turned his attention back to his search.

The next time you felt him, his fingers were sliding underneath the soaked fabric of your panties. You gasped only to hear his quiet chuckle not far from your ear. He slipped two fingers inside you and slowly circled them near your entrance to stretch you out.

You groped blindly to find him. You wanted to feel him beside you and pull his mouth against your own to muffle the moans that were welling inside of you.

Gray watched you writhe under his touch. Your body switching from panting to begging as you came closer. Your thigh muscles began to twitch, a sign which Gray knew meant you were on the verge, and he pulled his fingers out immediately.

“No fair,” you whined.


Gray nibbled at your jawline and collarbone until your heartbeat slowed. Once you had calmed down enough, you felt something press firmly against your clit. You went rigid and your mind struggled to put the pieces together as to what it could be.

“Gray,” you said softly. “What were you looking for earlier?”

“The thing is, jagi, I know more than you think I do.”

He gave you a chaste kiss just as he turned your hidden vibrator on to the lowest setting. Your entire body shuttered. Your nails pressed harder into Gray’s back. You crossed your legs reflexively and turned towards Gray as if that would make the delicious agony stop. Instead, he shifted further down the bed to pull your knees apart so he could slip his fingers back inside of you.


Every time you cried his name made his fingers move faster. And every time you got close he would stop completely. He increased the vibrator’s speed with each round until you were utterly spent. Your pleas for release no longer coherent.

He took your blindfold off for the last round. Your legs hooked over his shoulder to give him a better angle as his thrust inside of you. Every muscle responded to his movement as if he had complete control over your body. Each time he went deep enough that his hips rubbed your clit reduced you to a moaning mess and he kissed you just as you came together.


Your phone rang while you were still cradled against Gray’s chest. There was a brief moment when neither of you wanted to acknowledge it. You just didn’t have the energy but Gray retrieved it for you when your text reminder sounded.

You free?- Hoody

You looked over your shoulder at Gray who was spooning you.

“Am I free?”

“For now,” he teased.

I’m free. What’s up?

He’s being an ass again…and I’m hungry - Hoody

The usual spot. Be there in 20.

Saw - James March x Reader

Request: James March watches Saw.

It was the night before your boyfriend James’ birthday and you were settled on the couch in your suite, getting ready to watch a movie.

“What are you doing, darling?” James asked, walking into the room and raising an eyebrow.

You were wearing your robe, curled up with a bowl of popcorn that Liz had sent up for you. “I’m about to watch a movie, would you like to join me?”

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MASTERPOST 5 - Writing Prompts

Okay, here comes the biggie… good luck, Hannah ha ha. Here we go… part I of my masterpost of my creative writing prompts:

  1. She leaned in to his ear and whispered, “Go get ‘em, tiger.” Her words, though simple, invigorated him and gave him the burst of energy he needed.
  2. He looked deep into her eyes. “You, beautiful woman, are my muse,” He told her, causing her to blush as she stared at the painting he held before her.
  3. He picked her up off of her feet. “I’ll carry you if I have to,” He said with determination.
  4. She never really knew how to explain it. She’d always dealt with it, so it never really occurred to her that others may not understand it.
  5. She never quite knew what to say. She could only nod.
  6. Person A nudged person B gently. “You really bring out the singer in me,” She teased, causing her friend to blush. “Shut up…” Person B mumbled.
  7. Person A: *hums lightly*
    Person B: You have a great voice
    Person A: Not really…
    Person B: No, really, you could go pro!
  8. Person A: *nudges Person B*
    Person B: Would you knock it off!? You’ve been nudging me since you made that joke… a WEEK ago!
    Person A: It was a really funny joke…
  9. A kiss upon her rosy cheeks was sure to put a smile on that beautiful face!
  10. Person A knelt down on one knee. “I ask you, before all of my fans and all of my haters… will you marry me?”
  11. Person A is sitting in a corner. Person B notices and pushes past a crowd of people to go get Person A to socialize. No pressure, nice and casual.
  12. “I’m in your debt,” Person A says, bowing down before his/her savior.
  13. Person A’s son grabs his hand. “Father, I just wanted to say… thank you. Thank you for being so hard on me all these years. I am a better man because of you.”
  14. Person A: Father!
    Person B: Son!
    Person A: Swing me!
    Person B: You’ve got it. *swings the child*
  15. Person A: Let me just draw a transmutation circle…
    Person B: I can’t believe you’re using alchemy for this! You could always just MAKE it… y'know… with your hands.
    Person A: I AM making it with my hands… *claps hands together*
  16. Person A giggled into her hand. “Why, thank you,” She said, smiling brilliantly at Person B.
  17. Person A: Leave!
    Person B: Make me.
    Person A: Trust me, you don’t want that.
    Person B: Oh, but I do.
  18. Person A (in a sing-song voice): You’d better knock it off…
    Person B: Or what?
    Person A: Or I’ll sing… you… to death!
    Person B: Hah!
  19. Person B stumbled forward and grabbed ahold of Person A’s shoulder. “Help… me…” And with those two words out, Person B collapsed in a pool of blood.
  20. “What do you want?” Person A snapped through the bathroom door. “I’m kinda trying to take a shit here.”
  21. Person A: Haha, you’re so cute.
    Person B: Take that back!
    Person A: But… I mean that with all the love in the world.
    Person B: I don’t want your love - I want you to take that back. Take it back! Take it back!
    Person A: Okay, okay, god… I take it back.
    Person B: *sighs* that’s better…
  22. Person A: Are you freaking kidding me?
    Person B: What?
    Person A: This asshole over here called me a slut just because he could see some cleavage in my photo.
    Person B: What!? Let me at ‘im!
  23. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?” She screamed into his face, slapping it. He only put a hand to his cheek, eyes glazing over. He dipped her low and gave her a slow, passionate kiss.

    Much to both of their surprise, she kissed back.
  24. Person A: *cheering from the sidelines*
    Person B: *winks at Person A and runs into one of their teammates*
    Person A: *giggles*
  25. Person A: *leans in close to Person B’s face*
    Person B: *breath hitches*
    Person A: *smirks and pulls Person B in close*
    Person B: *losing their breath*
    Person A: *slowly leans in and gives Person B a kiss*
  26. Person A: *passes the blunt* Take a nice, big hit of this shit.
    Person B: *takes a bit hit off the blunt* Ah, that’s nice.
    Person A: wait for it…
    Person B: …
    Person A: …
    Person B: … *falls over*
  27. Person A: *cracks knuckle*
    Person B: How many fucking times have I told you to stop cracking your goddamn knuckles?
    Person A: The actual number or…?
    Person B: *blinks* Have you been keeping track?
    Person A: You have asked me 52 times to stop cracking my knuckles.
    Person B: Wow……. point is, STOP.
  28. “Of course. It’s hard to see family resemblance when someone’s covered in blood and writhing in pain” (this prompt was a direct quote from FMA (Fullmetal Alchemist).)
  29. Person 1: I’m judging you so hard right now.
    Person 2: No you’re not.
    Person 1: Oh, yes I am.
  30. Person A: You are so cute, pipsq-
  31. The bride beamed. “And now comes the time… to consummate our marriage,” She breathed to her new _____ (husband or wife).
  32. Person A leans over the bathroom and pukes up blood. “Do you want to tell me why you’re barfing blood?” Person B asks worriedly. Person A heaves a sigh. “I might as well…”
  33. Person A: *giggles*
    Person B: What are you looking at?
    Person A: The newspaper. There’s an article about _____.
  34. Person A: Sing me a song.
    Person B: You know I don’t sing.
    Person A: I’ll sing with you…
    Person B: No way, Jose.
  35. Person A: Draw me! *poses dramatically*
  36. Person A: *singing the blues*
    Person B: Wow, your voice really conveys emotion beautifully.
  37. A question to consider #1: How would a roadtrip involving two rivals on the same bus go?
  38. A question to consider #2: How would a big brother Capricorn and a little sister Libra interact with each other?
  39. Single Sentence Prompt #1: That was the day I learned the meaning of teamwork.
  40. “What is the meaning of this?” Person A snapped, turning to face the culprit.
  41. Your character is scrolling through cat photos and comes across this one. What is their response?
  42. Your character is in an artsy mood and draws this character. Talk about how they feel about their own piece of art. Are they proud? Do they find an audience to appreciate it? What do they do with it? Do they throw it away? Do they keep it in a file with their other art?
  43. A question to consider #3: What if female vampires still got their periods?
  44. (Oh no, I skipped 44!)
  45. Single Sentence Prompt #2: Write about a boy’s first kiss.
  46. SSP #3: Write about a girl losing her virginity.
  47. As his little sister vomited into the toilet, he stated, “You know, for your first time drinking, you really took it like a champ tonight.”
  48. Single Sentence Prompt #4: Write about a viking dwarf.
  49. SSP #5: Write about what happens when you try to steal the cookie recipes from the Keebler elves.
  50. A question to consider #4: What kind of pet(s) does your OC have and how do they interact with it/them?

The ones with links have photos attached to them that are part of the prompts, so if you’re gonna look at one of those prompts, I recommend clicking on the link.

anonymous asked:

What do you plan on majoring in?

I have time, but I’m leaning toward creative writing, environmental sciences, or women’s studies. Maybe a minor in sign language

Poetry and Roses--Valentines's Challenge Day 4

This is crack.  Complete crack.  Thanks to ilarual for the eyes, as usual.

Other Days:

Day 1 ~ Day 2 ~ Day 3 


“Why not at least follow the clues, findout who it is?  I mean you have to admit, if nothing else, the person is creative.”

Soul was leaned up next to her locker, looking as bored as usual. Maka side eyed him, frowning, then turned her attention back to the fancy pressed paper that had been slipped into her locker inside a red envelope, along with a long stem red rose.  The fact someone had clearly broken into her locker to deliver this, she had to admit, was—unexpected.

She read over the contents of the letter again, frowning:

For us to meet, if you are bold,

Clues on each paper will be told.

So follow each until the end,

And then perhaps you’ll find a friend.

A person with a longing heart,

With hopes that this will be our start,

With wishes now to tell you true,

Of how my heart belongs to you.

The first of riddles you must solve,

A place where notes change and evolve,

A place where words chorus in verse,

A place that is both love and curse.

“The person writes terrible poetry,” she said with a sigh, handing the offending object to her weapon.  "But I’ll admit to being curious.  The better question, though, is why you care.  Since when do you encourage me to try to meet some random weirdo?“

"Maybe I’m curious, too.”  He shrugged.  "We gonna try to find the creepy rando or not?“

 ”Wait, you’re coming?” She turned to face him, hands on hips.

 ”’Course.  Can’t have my meister tracking down some stalker alone.”  

"Fine.  At least with you I don’t have to walk.  Looks like we need to get to the bookstore.”

 He blinked at her.  ”The—bookstore?”

 ”Yeah, Death Notes?  I mean, notes and verse—and it’s for me?  Gotta be.”

 ”Uh, but—”

 ”We going or not?”

“Riiiight.  Death Notes, then.”

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12:30 AM Stories - PadLock

I can never touch her, or understand how it feels to clean her inky hands, or how it feels to physically be with her. 

Everything I touch dies

Clock sighed as he leaned back in the chair that Red usually occupied. The trio was out right now, and this is when he usually made his human form shown to Notepad, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

Slightly bouncing his foot, he ran through everything he could be doing with his time. This wasn’t wasting time, was it?

Suddenly, he felt a presence, and in the next instant, a sharp pencil was near his neck. Tensing up, he realized how close her inky, dripping skin was to his. As the droplets fell onto his glove, they stained it but quickly evaporated into nothing. That was her skin dying.

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In The Classroom

I’ve been teaching inside the box this year - doing my best, but following the rules. It is not how I really want to teach. I assigned homework because we are required to assign homework and it is required to be 20% of the grade. We know that homework is an equity issue. We know that homework is rarely instructionally helpful. We assign it anyway. Why?

Discipline means “to teach”. Yet we assign punitive punishments for every  little thing. Referrals, detentions, in-school-suspension, suspension. On and on. We maintain a database at my school of every minor infraction. Had to change a student’s seat? Put it in the database. The students do not know this database exists. Double-secret probation.

It is time for me to rebel. Starting now. Fourth term. The real me is going to work on Monday. No database. No detentions - which I rarely assign, but now there will be none. No referrals, with the lone exception of violence. 

No homework. No. Homework. Go play. Assign yourself.

If we did schools right, kids would be excited to be there. They’d want to be there. They would trust the teachers, the teachers would care about all of their students. We’d reward creativity and independence, not docility and compliance. 

The real me is going to work on Monday. The one my own kids know. The one who thinks learning is cool, likes kids who are little sassy,who ask questions, who challenge, who rebel. The one who thinks learning should be messy and engaging and new. The one who isn’t on a power trip. 

I finished grades. Other teachers were talking with dismay over how many students would be receiving failing grades because of the number of missed assignments. My thought was, there’s a problem here. We’re looking at the symptoms and not at the issue. I gave out very few failing grades. My favorite disciplinary method is nagging. Where’s that assignment? Why don’t I have it yet? Give me something? Sit down right now and write it out, finish it, something. Half credit is better than a zero. I drag them from failing miserably to a D or even a C. Failure is not an option. Have a conversation. See, you did get it. Why didn’t you turn in the work? A mumbled response. Then I count the conversation. They showed me, didn’t they? A kid has to try pretty damn hard to get a failing grade from me. If you show up, try at all, care at all, together we will find a way to get you to that grade. Students email me all the time. With questions, assignments, anything. 

We have to care more. We have to come out from under the bureaucracy and pettiness and endless trivial rules and the testing. We need to get back to teaching. We need to care. We need to cut some of these kids a break. We need to give them a hand up. A second chance, a third chance, as many chances as it takes. We are teaching them to fail. We need to teach them to get up and try again. And again. Until they get it.

Monday. I can’t wait until Monday. Game face on. Time to take back my classroom. Look out.

Sprite LEAN Mix 🍐🍊🍋🍇🍓🍍🍉🍒
*It’s Back!!! For A Limited Time*

Daddy 5SOS: Gone too Soon (Kayla)

I know this is sad, so don’t feel you have to write if you aren’t comfortable. How the family handles wife/one of the guys dying youngish? 

A/N: Like usual, I tried to branch out. So it’s different family members, not necessarily their parents. But, I hope you enjoy? I think enjoy is the wrong word here…but I don’t know what else to use as a word. SO ENJOY. This isn’t a [Y/N] prompt, just FYI.


“Now, I want you guys to write a letter. It can be over anything you want it to be, but I want it to be something that evokes some sort of emotion. Get mad, get upset, get happy, I don’t care. But I want to feel something when I read that letter. I want to understand you, know you a bit better than I do now. That’s what creative writing is about. Knowing the author by the end. So go for it. Bare your soul and make me feel something. Have it Monday when class begins.” Kayla’s creative writing teacher leaned against his desk before shooing the class away. “Class dismissed.” And then all the seniors were packing their things and leaving. Kayla left class knowing exactly what she wanted to write, and she went home, spending the evening with her family before closing herself in her bedroom and sitting at her desk and opening her laptop. Before she even started writing, she sat back, just remembering.

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