#i really need to get my weekends in order to write ;c

[darehearts]

my rp career might be dead since june,  but i was busy  💛

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕

Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?

I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:

I did my best c: I hope you like it!

Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?

A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!

------

You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 

Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 

You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.

Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 

They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  

You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 

A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 

You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 

You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 

For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 

Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 

Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 

You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.

Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 

It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 

There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 

Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 

He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 

You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.

“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 

“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 

“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 

“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 

You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 

“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 

Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 

You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 

 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 

“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 

You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 

“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 

Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 

Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you write something with Oscar based on this post

https://www.tumblr.com/girlonabreak/744982039484366848/may-i-offer-you-something-water-food-my

i’ll try my best anon! thank you very much for your request, i hope you like it!

tw: fem!reader, swears, lmk if you want anything added.

w/c: 2.3k

oscar was a little nervous to have you over. the relationship was fairly fresh and this would be the first time you would be at his place. he’d spent the week prior cleaning every single nook and cranny he could find, then going on tiktok and finding out how to clean the ones he didn’t even know existed. not that you would be inspecting the space behind his fridge for it’s cleanliness.

three days before, when he’d gone shopping, he texted you asking if you liked this specific brand of chocolate and if you would like some for when you stayed over at the weekend.

oscar had gotten more blankets, pillows and even got you a new teddy bear, scared that you would forget the one you couldn’t sleep without. he was determined that you were having a good nights sleep with him. you had slept together before, but not properly. those had only been you falling asleep during a film after a date or oscar coming over to yours the day after the race weekend and feeling so jet lagged he fell asleep on your couch two minutes after you started carding your fingers through his hair.

you had always made him feel so welcome at yours so he was desperate to make you feel the same. even though this was a bit different than those times he was at yours.

oscar pottered around fixing things that didn’t really need fixing at all. he triple checked the fridge incase all the food inside had gone missing. then he checked his bank account to make sure he still had his money and he hadn’t been hacked, just incase you wanted to order in or even go to the shops.

a soft knock at his door shoves oscar out of his thoughts, he runs to the door to answer. you were on the other side, weekend bag in hand. you had little to no makeup on and your hair was thrown up not too messily. oscar then thought about if you would want to shower and how he only had manly products. how could he forget to buy you shower stuff?

“osc?” you ask as you stand in the doorway. oscar blinks once, twice, then is scrambling to take your bag off you.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry. i don’t know where i was there. you look gorgeous. come in.” he says as he spins around and stands to the side to let you walk inside first.

you slowly walk inside and the first thing you notice is the amount of candles he has lit. it give the living room the most homely feel.

“your place is lovely, osc. it’s so cozy.” you tell him turning around from looking at the kitchen to face him. oscar grins at your words.

“thank you, pretty. you want me to put your bag in the room?” oscar asks, feeling a lot less high strung now that you were actually here in front of him. that usually did help calm him down.

you nod. oscar tries his best not to leave you standing all by yourself in the living room for too long. he basically sprints to his room and back. a blink and you didn’t even know he was gone, type of situation.

you’re not standing in the living room when he comes back thought. you’re sitting on the couch. you look like you belong there. it sends a wave of affection to oscar’s heart.

“you want to watch a film?” you ask him from the couch. you already had the remote in your hands.

“‘course, what kind are you feeling?” oscar asks, heading to the cupboard in the hallway to get the massive blanket he’d bought at the shops a few days earlier.

“dunno.” is your reply. oscar can tell you have a film in mind but you may be a little embarrassed to ask to watch it. as he comes to sit down beside you, he throws the blanket over the top of you and it almost suffocates you. instead of commenting on it you just get comfy. oscar rakes his brain for previous conversations about films to find the one you could watch everyday and not get tired of. as he remembers he snatches the remote off of you to bring it up. you don’t say anything but you watch on skeptically.

“this one seem okay? i’ve never seen it before but i heard you like it.” oscar says, a cocky smirk on his face as he sees the look on yours after you realise the film. you grin.

“yeah i supposed we could stick this one on and give it a go.” you pretend like you couldn’t quote the dialogue in your sleep. oscar pressed play on the film and instantly feels the need to be touching you. you had chosen to sit in the corner of oscar’s L shaped couch, an incredibly you thing to do, oscar thought. but because of where you decided to sit oscar was unsure how to go about touching you. he gives up trying to think of ways to get you in his lap.

“come sit in my lap.”

you turn your head from the tv, the opening credits rolling in the screen. “okay.” you reply, shuffling to follow his request.

it ended up that oscar was laying in the corner of the couch and faced the tv. you were sitting to his side with your legs slung over his, shoulders brushing against each other with every breathe. oscar holds one of your hands underneath the massive blanket, the other traces his name on your ankle - just above your socks.

a quarter of the way through, you shuffled around to get comfortable again, your head ended up resting on his bicep as you had moved down a little more. oscar had to hold back the coo that threatened to escape him as he felt your check squash up against his skin. oscar throws his focus back on the tv, as hard as it is he wants to know the film you love so much.

at the end of the first act, oscar moves his attention back to you, he wonders if you’re hungry but are just too scared to ask. or if you were waiting on him to offer you something. were you tired and just wanted to move to bed right now? it wasn’t that late surely. what if you actually did want to go for that shower right now? would he have enough time to go buy some flowery shampoo and body wash so you wouldn’t end up smelling like him?

“can i get you anything to eat?” oscar asks, thumb rubbing over your ankle bone. he wonders if this is the ankle you broke when you were five, or if it was the other one.

“are you hungry?” you ask oscar, head turning to look up at him. the aussie almost melts at your expression. “i am if you are.” you say to him.

this confuses oscar but he decides that eating wouldn’t hurt. he doesn’t care if you don’t eat it all.

“you want to order in or just make something here?” he asks again. it makes him feel bad making you choose but he wants to make sure you’re completely comfortable with him tonight. the time when he can just know what you want and do it for you was right around the corner and he couldn’t wait for it.

“order in.” you say after a few moments of silence. “don’t want to move from here until bed.” you explain. although oscar didn’t think you needed to explain, he thought it was cute. he thought the same thing anyway, not having felt this content in months.

“fine by me. i’ll order it and it should be here soon.”

your film finishes and you and oscar finish the food. you talk a little at the end of the film, asking him about how lando and zak were doing and how strong the car was. don’t get oscar wrong, as much as he loved his job and the fact that you took so much interest in what he did, he just wanted a day where he could sit with you and hypothesise whether or not spider-man was too young to be spidering across the city. instead of telling you this he changed the topic, comfortably so you don’t notice.

“it’s getting late. are you getting tired, pretty?” he asks. he can see the way your shoulders are a little more slumped as you sit in front of him, the film behind you having ended and instead playing a trailer for some unrelated tv series. you nod to answer his question. “a little, yeah.”

“c’mon then. bedtime for us.” oscar says picking you up by your waist and flinging you over his shoulder. he carries you to the bathroom where he sits you on the counter. you are laughing all the way there. oscar’s already thinking about which ring would suit you more. he goes in the cabinet underneath the sink and grabs a pack of two toothbrushes. one pink, one blue. it’s so domestic, oscar nearly burst when he seen them in the shops and thought of giving the pink one to you.

“i know you brought a bag full of stuff and you probably have a toothbrush with you but i thought you could keep this one here and i could maybe clear out a drawer for you in my bedroom for you to keep things here so you don’t have to go back and forth for clothes.” oscar rambles as he puts toothpaste on both brushes and hands yours to you. it’s like oscar keeps forgetting that this is the first time you’re sleeping over, mind already thinking about the next time, and the next and the next.

oscar shoves his brush in his mouth to stop his mouth. you laugh at him. “i would like that. thank you osc.” you say before copying him and brushing your teeth. oscar watches like you were doing something really interesting, his eyes darting over your face. tonight he learns another new thing about you, you’re a really messy brusher. toothpaste slipping down your chin as you brush. he has to hold back the laugh that longs to escape him, not wanting to cover you in more toothpaste than you already have all over you.

oscar spits into the sink then quickly rinses his mouth with mouthwash, then spitting that out too. you follow his actions, hopping down from the counter to spit into the sink, standing in front of oscar. before you can rinse your mouth out with mouthwash though, oscar turns your face to his with a gentle hand.

“you got a little something..” you smile at his words. oscar belonged in a romcom for sure. the boy’s thumb coming out to brush away the leftover toothpaste on your chin. you smile at him in thanks but your smile falls as he wipes it on the shoulder of your t-shirt.

“oscar! why would you do that! what’s wrong with you!?” you squeal. oscar laughs hard, his head thrown back in joy. you’re not really mad, the smile on your face hard to miss. it’s hard to be angry at the boy in front of you who literally looks like the human version of the sun.

once you’ve finished in the bathroom - oscar yapping away as you take your makeup off and done your skincare at the sink - he pulls you to his bed.

“you want to change in here or do you want me to go to the bathroom?” oscar asks, throwing you the t-shirt he’s just washed (and maybe sprayed with his cologne before you came over). you catch it before hesitating with your answer. oscar answers for you.

“why don’t you get changed in the bathroom and i can get a big reveal, seeing you with my t-shirt on?” oscar asks, giddy at his own idea. you nod, if only just to please him, although you do like his idea, thinking it’s cute he wants that.

you’re quick to get changed, your hair taken out of the ponytail to hand down, it will probably get in your face tonight. you hurry out the bathroom to find oscar sitting on top of the bed in his own pyjamas. oscar’s eyes light up at the sight of you.

“jesus christ, pretty girl. you’re going to kill me.” he says standing up, arms outstretched like he would die if he didn’t touch you in the next ten seconds. you happily fall into his embrace. face against his chest. oscar’s nose in your hair.

“you smell like you and me.” oscar smiles as he pull away from the hug and pulls you into bed instead. you laugh at his discovery. “as long as i smell good.” you tell him.

after a quick okay fight over who was getting what side of the bed, you are both cuddled up to each other. it most definitely won’t stay like this all night because what oscar doesn’t know yet is you move a lot in your sleep. he’ll find that out in the morning, but for now he’s happy to have you right where he wants you. oscar is big spoon as his arms are wrapped around you, big hands under your top and on your warm, soft skin. leg over your hip, keeping you trapped under him, not that you would ever complain about that.

the teddy bear oscar had gotten you incase you forgot yours was laying at the bottom of the bed, while you clutch yours to your chest. one of your hands ghosting over oscar’s on your stomach.

the tv is on, playing some sitcom you’d asked for. oscar never usually sleeps with the tv on but for you? he would sleep on a bed of nails if it made you comfortable.

“g’night, pretty baby.” oscar mumbles into your hair, not bothering that it was in his face. you mumble something of the sort back, he knew you were basically asleep. ‘this is my future.’ oscar thought to himself before he fell asleep.

[mamawasatesttube]

okay, i'm going to spam today. mmm damian, jon (as he is in OUR minds), aaaaaaaand. lois.

hell YEAH lets go!! damian first:

Headcanon A:  realistic

he goes to veterinary school. something something not either of his parent's legacies but something of his own that still feels like it's honoring them in its own way (medicine-adjacent. hands to help heal rather than harm. you get it)

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

he pretends not to know english that well in order to make jon explain the "deez nuts" joke he just made. jon is mad about it because he KNOWS damian knows english perfectly well enough to get deez nutted, but damian refuses to drop the pretense until jon glares at him and explains the joke. damian thinks he's hilarious. and he is.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

man this isn't even hc really but do you ever think about the way he is just a little guy who never wants to hurt anyone or anything but he was born into a cycle of violence he never asked for. before he was ever old enough to understand it, there was blood on his hands. it's a guilt he'll always carry. i think he and cass should bond over this btw

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

i dont know what the fuck canon is doing over there at this point but its important to me that he and talia love each other. there can be complexity and nuance to it but he loves his mom. dc shut up and listen okay they love each other!!!!

and now jon (as he SHOULD be):

Headcanon A:  realistic

he grows up with two central struggles: a) the classic mixed kid agonies, and b) the fact that he lives with immense pressure between both of his parents legacies that he can't escape. as a hero, he's superman's son. as a civilian, he's lois lane's son. everyone compares him to his parents, and so does he.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

his puppy eyes are so strong he's literally charmed the shirt off kon's back before. ("hey, kon, i'm packing for that camping trip with my friends this weekend, can i borrow your red--oh... you're wearing it. okay... never mind... 🥺👉👈 unless? 🥺🥺🥺") (kon, actively pulling off his shirt: "YOU ARE A HORRIBLE LITTLE MANIPULATIVE GREMLIN AND I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT.")

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

well now im just thinking of that time you were like haha what if i write a fic where lex luthor kills jon in front of kon. i don't think i can top that. you motherfucker.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

no age-up bullshit. instead he exists in our beautiful postcrisis mishmash sandbox. he's like 4 when kon hatches (unless he isn't because timelines? what are those <3) and he is simply kon's beautiful little baby brother who has him wrapped around his little finger from day one.

AND NOW LOIS!!!

Headcanon A:  realistic

she's the breadwinner for the family. clark works from home/is a stay-at-home dad while jon is little. they have to figure it out a bit whenever superman is needed, but they make it work.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

the first time she visited the kent farm, she stepped in a cow patty and clark laughed his ass off at her, so lois took off the shit-covered shoe and threw it at him.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

having to take care of baby jon during the month clark was dead/"dead" while watching everything go down in reign of the supermen is probably what she would say is the hardest thing she's ever had to do.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

i need her to take tim under her wing for a little while. she sees in him a kindred spirit: a do-gooder, incredibly nosy little fuck. she can enable all of his snooping and sneaky tendencies. she'll ruffle his hair and generally regard him like a weird kitten kon found in the gutter one day and brought home. they go on at least one (mis)adventure.

[danketsuround]

sunday six :]

LONG TIME NO SEE i didn't write at all during my long vacation. but i have something for you this time. it's early in most of ur timezones but i'll tag you anyways @four-white-trees @passthroughtime @c-cw-f-saeko @futilecombat @fire-tempers-steel @overdevelopedglasses (i might have forgotten some people it's been too long TT)

here is a one shot that is an extension of my recent fic (thought you don't need to read that for context lol) in which kuwana shares an awkward beer with mitsuru's father. it's a bit longer than what i usually post so if you want a link i also posted it on my privatter (https://privatter.net/p/10683758) but if you don't mind reading it on tumblr you can check it out under the cut. bye!

His father, a high-bred accountant, a former bank teller, was not as reserved as he had been described. He must have sweated his hairline back three centimeters, and worked as hard as any man at a desk could. He clacked on the ordering screen like a keyboard, pressing hard and fast like there were motors in his fingers.

Kuwana was amazed at his speed, his slick-backed greying hair and the shilling way he spoke about normal things. From there he concluded that Mitsuru was born from a growth on Reiko's side--not an ounce of his father was within him.

"Cheers," the father named Jiro said, raising his mug high. "To better health."

Kuwana was late to clink, and bashfully congratulated the air instead.

"Cheers."

"It's nice being back in Yokohama." He lived in central Tokyo now, alone, in an apartment that probably had windows for walls. "I heard they've got nice Chinese food here."

"That's right."

"Mm," he gulped. "Bet you'll miss it."

"I'm sure they have good Chinese food in Ehime."

"Maybe orange chicken!" Jiro's laughter was pointed by a snap and another gulp. He rattled the too-small table with his cross-legged knee. It wasn't that funny, but Kuwana offered him a polite smile.

Between his laughter and the dead silence of the settling table, he seemed to stop and think.

"Reiko is really going to jail, huh."

There was probably a softer image of her still buried somewhere in his mind; one that was pregnant-bellied with swollen feet and that weird post-vomit glow new mothers get. Kuwana only encountered remnants of her motherhood in the rare moments she smudged food off his face or pointed out his shoes were untied--when she said things like "My baby" in a voice that was much smaller than her own.

It was natural that their divorce ended in some anger. Kuwana remembered her twisting her ring around her finger anxiously like it was hot, talking about how they decided to separate the night he couldn't make it to their son's first graduation; how those bimonthly dad weekends were a blessing he often rejected; how she was jealous of how quickly he fell out of love with her and how he could sleep around without worrying about cooking dinner for a picky child. Surely those things rang true and terribly in her mind, like how her distant gaze and sharp tongue rang in his. But it was across the table, there, that Mr. Kusumoto crumpled his pale drunken face like paper and really thought about what kind of woman she truly was, like it had suddenly occurred to him that he was on-paper divorced for a spit over a decade. Then, perhaps he was trying to imagine his ex-wife with a knife in her hand, and he was failing.

"I can't wrap my head around it," Jiro spoke again when Kuwana didn't answer. "Why would she do something so terrible?"

"She's not a monster," he defended her quietly.

"Tell that to the human popsicle they buried last month!" He laughed again. He punched back his beer and the remaining foam bubbled over his shaven face. His hand predictably hit the table again. "For the record, that kid could rot in hell for all I care, for what he did to my son!" Then the bottom of his mug nearly cracks, and his voice gets low and somber and suddenly thoughtful again. "Why her? Out of all people, her?"

Suddenly Kuwana felt on trial. He realized there was nothing he could say to make Jiro understand, so he shrugged and answered, "Revenge?"

"Some revenge!" He ordered two beers on the keypad without looking. "A high school drop out working in the red light district--he would've been dealt with in an alley without her, had she given it some time, some thought!"

Kuwana pedantically thought of revenge as being more hands-on. Their beers arrived, but he was still finishing his first.

"Selfish woman," he spat, and motioned a short defeated cheers with his drink out of habit. "Stupid, selfish woman. Had she really given up on our poor son so quickly, that revenge was the only answer?"

Kuwana's eyes hit the ceiling. He thanked it that Reiko wasn't there to watch him absorb and swallow the insults hurled towards her.

"You look troubled," Jiro observed.

"I guess."

"Did I upset you, new friend?"

He winced. "No."

Jiro's mouth hit his hands. He said something that sounded like, "Dybulycareouter?"

Kuwana lifted his head. "What?"

"Do you really care about her?"

"Yes." He answered too quickly, then cleared his throat. "Yes, I do."

Jiro crossed his arms. There Mitsuru was, a little. "Are you one of those people?"

Kuwana assumed he was talking about the small cult following Reiko accumulated after her televised confession--a group of housewives and single fathers who believed she had done nothing wrong, and, paradoxically, theorized she had been forced to confess to cover up an even larger scandal within the Ministry of Health. He changed the channel any time one of them was stupidly given a podium and a camera--walked a little faster when he saw an apron-adorned woman trying to turn on a megaphone--for his own sanity.

"No," he answered. "We've just known each other for a while."

"That's right." Jiro pointed at him sharply, like he was trying to pin down their connection once more. "How long have you known her, again?"

"A while," Kuwana dodged.

"That's vague," he groaned. "After we divorced?"

"She was wearing a ring when we met."

Jiro took a hurried sip of his drink.

"I ought to reach over this table and smack you."

Kuwana slowly finished his.

"It wasn't like that."

But just then in his mind, he could see the indent of a ring on her finger--and some other residues of motherhood, like the C-section scar on her belly--from long ago. Reiko's unfaithfulness might have been the least surprising thing about it all--next to Kuwana's willingness to participate.

"At least you're honest." Jiro sighed, though his face looked like he knew he wasn't, and that he didn't care. "You and Mitsuru will be on the road soon, right?"

"Soon enough." Kuwana bowed a little. "If I'm quick, we can leave Yokohama next month. We'll practically be chasing her down."

"There's no rush," he said wisely. "She'll be there whether you leave next month or next year."

"That's true, but."

"Have you ever been married?"

Kuwana shook his head.

"I guess you've never had kids before, then."

"I can't."

"It's about as fun as it looks." His eyebrows twisted and he gave a sly wink. "In other words, not fun at all."

"So?" Kuwana couldn't tell if he was feeing impatient or jealous.

"So, so, so..." He chewed his lips in thought. "So, I guess, silver lining: you're lucky you have a choice. Though, I'm not sure why you would choose it, when you can live as a free man."

He thought about how much he hated being so free. It felt like his existence was bragging. He'd be better off confessing in the aquarium window of a koban than across the table from the ex-husband of a woman that should have avoided him.

"Because I've never done it before?" he answered instead.

Kuwana watched his expression change in real time. Jiro's face was all twisted up in annoyance before his answer. He laughed instead. In his own mind he thought it was out of pity, but it was really shock. He knew this when it was followed by a gasp.

"Cheers!" He got so loud that everything quieted around them. It was unsavory to cheers with a half-empty mug with yakitori backwash, but less unsavory when it was half-full. He lifted his mug in a way that beckoned Kuwana to lift his as well. "To new things!"

"Cheers." It connected.

[hswriting]

The Moment I Knew - Part 4

[Image Alt ID: a five picture collage with a light pink background. The first picture is of Harry Styles holding a microphone up to his face. The second picture is of a man lifting up a woman in a dress. The third picture is if a woman trying on a black dress that hangs off of the shoulders and goes to the top of the thigh. The fourth pictures is of a dinner table set with plates of food, silverware, glasses of wine, candles, and pink flowers. The final picture is of a woman with wavy blonde hair. End Alt ID]

- - -

Masterlist Series Part 3 Part 5

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2.3k words

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Millie begins to make plans after recovering from her concussion.

I’m leaving the hospital after getting my stitches removed. I hop in the car and check my phone since I couldn’t look at it in the room. 3 texts from Harry.

H😊: Good morning. Did you want to hang out today?

I forgot you’re getting your stitches removed. Sorry!

I’m in lot C with a surprise for you.

I am parked in lot C so I look around for Harry’s car. I see it down the row of cars. I walk over to his car and knock on the window. He jumps but then laughs. He steps out of the car and gives me a hug.

These last two weeks have been really fun and amazing with Harry. We have had movie nights, we played board games with the friend group, and went out to lunches and dinners. We didn’t hang out every day, but we began to talk on the phone regularly. He’s become a part of my every day.

Kellen has been nonexistent. He hasn’t tried to call any of our friends and he hasn’t come around to the house again. It’s been peaceful.

Through these two weeks Harry and I have also been journaling together. We may not tell each other what we write, but it’s better to write together. He also likes to ask me input for some of his songs he is writing. He is trying his best to help me build back my self esteem since Kellen shattered it. It’s a work in progress.

When our hug ends, he reaches back in his car and pulls out two cups of coffee.

“I know you had to avoid caffeine for a while, so I knew you missed your coffee.” He says, handing me my cup. Perfect again.

“I needed this so bad!” I laugh.

“Any plans for the day?”

“Nothing until tonight.”

“Oh. That’s right. You started talking to that girl on tinder?”

“Yes. She wants to meet in person for dinner.” I say and Harry seems like his mood has dropped off from happy to see me, to now I’m uncomfortable when I mentioned dinner. “What do you want to do?”

“I was going to see if you wanted to come to my show tonight.”

“I’m sorry Har.” I tell him.

“It’s alright. There’s always next weekend.” He tells me. We went over to his house and watched a movie. Well, it was more that I watched the movie and he journaled, but it is what it is. He seemed really interested in what he was doing, and he didn’t really want my input. I ended up going home and getting ready. I put on a short a frilly black dress, some pantyhose, and some black, flat, dress shoes since the snow and ice is beginning to melt. I put on some bracelets. I fix my hair and makeup and look in the mirror like Harry always tells me to do.

“It’s not gonna sound like you mean it at first, but try to mean it. Find something you like about you, and tell it to yourself”. He stood in front of the mirror with me. He stood behind me a pointed to my eyes. “Your brown eyes are beautiful. He moves down and points to my mouth. “You have a magnificent smile. Lights up the whole room, love”.

I drive to the restaurant and I see she is already at the table. I meet her and she smiles at me as we sit down. The waiter takes our drink order and walks away.

We begin to talk and she seems great. She’s polite to the staff, she doesn’t just talk about herself and she does want to get to know me too. That is until she is looking at me and just goes, “Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked her. She glances back at my wrist.

“Your bracelet.” She says plainly. “Are those bisexual pride colors?” She asks. I nod. “I’m really sorry. I think we’re going to have to stop while we’re ahead.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, clutching my bracelet.

“I didn’t know you dated men. I thought you were a lesbian.”

“I like women too. What’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to be with someone who has been with men. I think it’s gross.” She says, feeling like a knife to the stomach. She has no idea what it is like to be rejected like this.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. You seemed really cool, but I guess I was wrong.” I said. I grabbed my wallet, laid money on the table for my drink, and walked out. I get in my car and turn on the radio. One of Harry’s favorite songs comes on the radio. Which causes another stabbing pain. Not only has my self esteem taken a beating, but my pride has too. I don’t understand how people can think that way, but I can’t stop them. I feel even more terrible because I could have been at Harry’s show tonight, but decided to go on that date.

I glance at the clock and see I have missed the beginning of his show, but I can still catch some of it if I go now. I put the car in drive and make my way there.

I walk inside and the place is packed full of people. People coming to see Harry, to get drinks, and to have fun. I end up standing by the door I can through because of the people.

“This next song is one I haven’t released yet, but it’s about this girl in my life. She’s so amazing. She’s made such a difference in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without her. This one is for her.” He says. He starts on the piano

“Purple flowers, red wine, brown eyes, smile lighting up the room. I’m finally here with you. I hope you see me now, the way that I see you. I hear your laugh and think, I want to hear that forever too. This one’s for you.”

I feel heat rise to my cheeks, knowing what Kellen said is true. This song is undoubtably about me, and I don’t know what to do. I have a tattooed bracelet of purple flowers on my left wrist. I brought red wine to his house the night we burned Kellen’s things and he knows it’s my favorite. In the mirror he was telling me how beautiful my eyes and smile were. Was he going to perform this if I had come with him tonight?

I really do like Harry, but I’ve never thought about him like this really. Briefly after the fight with Kellen, I thought about him liking me but I didn’t know if it was true so I pushed it down and went about my days being friends. I wasn’t ready to move on then. But I went on a date. I decided tonight with that date that I am ready, just to be slammed with this information.

He is really sweet. He has been nothing but supportive of me and we have become best friends. If Kellen was right and he has liked me this whole time, was Harry lying when he said he wasn’t trying to take advantage of my situation? Would it really matter if he did, because I love having him around. I don’t know that I would care that he lied about it.

The song comes and goes and everyone cheers. He looks around the room and he catches my eye. His face turns red with blush, but he has to continue performing. He plays the rest of his set, which takes about 45 minutes. He goes backstage after the end. I wade through the people rushing to the bar so I can go and talk to Harry.

I walk to the door to backstage but it is locked. I knock. After a few beats the door opens and Harry is there. Behind him is a table with food and drinks. They set him up pretty good back here.

“Come in.” He said. I step in the room and he closes and locks the door behind me. I sit down on the couch across the room as he goes back to the table to eat. “What happened to your date?” He asks.

“She’s kinda shitty.”

“You guys were getting along well I thought?” He asks.

“We were. She saw my pride bracelet and said she didn’t want to be with a girl who likes guys. Gross I guess.”

“How is that gross?” He asks.

“I don’t know. I guess since I’m not fully gay? So I paid for my drink and walked out.” I tell him as he takes a bite.

“I’m sorry. We should probably talk about the song you heard.” He says nervously.

“Yeah.” I say, waiting for him to continue.

“I wanted to actually tell you, and then perform the song for you. I thought it would be okay to perform early even though you weren’t here. I’m sorry if I-“

“It was a sweet song. I liked it.”

“You did?” He smiles and I nod. “I know how this makes everything look.”

“It’s okay Har. I’m not worried about that.”

“No?”

“No. I’m just surprised is all.”

“I thought maybe you had heard Kellen that day he hit me.”

“I did, but I didn’t know there was any truth to it. You never gave any indications I thought.”

“I have liked you since Rachel first started bringing you over to play games, but you started to get close to Kellen, so I let you be.” He started. “I tried dating. I told you how that went.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t be sorry. I never said anything. You and Kellen started dating. I was happy for you. He would always ask me for advice about you. It’s funny now looking back on it.” He says. I’m not sure what to say next. “Do you have any questions?”

“So, is that song I listened to the day I got my concussion about me?” I ask, pulling a question from my muddled brain.

“Yeah.”

“That makes more sense.”

“What does?”

“Just everything. The song, what Kellen said, and you getting mad at me earlier”.

“Mad at you? How could I ever be mad at you, love?”

“When you remembered I had a date tonight, you shut down. You didn’t really talk to me. You journaled during the movie”.

“Not mad. A little jealous maybe. I was afraid I was doing the same thing again, letting you go when I liked you.”

“Well, maybe it’s for the best it didn’t work out.” I say and he gives me a small smile and his cheeks turn red again. He comes over and sits beside me on the couch with me.

“Sucks for them. Lucky for me I guess.”

“Lucky? I’m just me Har. I’m not anything special.”

“Now that is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.” He says. “You literally brighten the room when you walk in. You make everyone’s day that much better. Anyone who has the luck to meet you should thank the stars. You’re an amazing person Millie.” He says. He gently grabs my hand.

“Do you think I’d be rushing things if I said I’d like to try this?”

“It’s not about time. It’s about if you feel ready. I’m in no rush. Of course I’d love for you to be my girlfriend, but if you’re not ready I’ll wait for you.” He says, looking into my eyes. I feel ready. I feel that I’m over the crap with Kellen. I’m just so scared of messing things up again. Kellen blames me for his cheating. I know Harry isn’t that type of person, but what if there’s something else I can manage to mess up? “What are you thinking about?” He asks. I explain to him my insecurities.

“I know you aren’t him. I just don’t want to hurt you and not even know it. You deserve to be cared for.”

“I don’t believe what happened was your fault. Kellen did what he did not because of you. He chose to do that.” He tells me. I take a moment to think about everything that’s happened. My feelings towards it all.

“Okay.” I say.

“Okay?”

“I’ll be your girlfriend. I want to try this.” I tell him. I don’t think I’ve seen him smile so big before. He picks me up spins me around. “Harry!”

“I don’t think you know that you just made me the happiest man alive Mil.” He says. He puts me down and we are both laughing.

There’s a knock on the door. Harry goes to answer it with a big smile on his face.

“Hey. Just wanted to let you know we gotta get the next band in soon.”

“Okay. I’ll start cleaning up.” Harry says.

“Oh, and here’s your check.” The man says and hands Harry an envelope. The door closes again and Harry pockets the envelope. He begins to clean up. I help him pick up a few things and carry his equipment to his car. We stand outside afterwards and it’s starting to sprinkle from the sky.

“I work the morning shift tomorrow, but I’d like to take you on a date afterwards.” He says.

“Sounds good to me. What time and where?”

“I’ll pick you up at 6.”

“What should I wear?”

“Whatever you want to. You’ll look great in anything.” He says.

“Okay.” I tell him. “So I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, love. Let me walk you to your car. It’s dark out.” He says. I climb in my car and wave him goodbye for the night. I drive home and undress. I climb into bed with a smile on my face.

- - -

Masterlist Series Part 3 Part 5

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #226

Today is Thursday.

We have made the drive to Washington DC.

We are here. And I know it's unwarranted to feel this way, but still… it's almost as though I am just a hair's breadth from you.

Silly. I know. Never mind it.

The air in this place isn't quite as bad as I thought it was going to be. Don't get me wrong, it is some mid-to-upper 90s (32-36 degrees C), but it's not nearly as humid as I expected. Being in this place is kind of like having a hot, wet towel waggled aggressively at you. When I was last in Maryland, it was in Owings Mills, and I remember, even in the morning, going outside was like being beaten half to death with bricks wrapped in hot, soggy towels. I couldn't go outside, except very briefly. I'm glad that the weather here doesn't seem to be like the weather there.

Still, it's enough that I have to be careful about exerting myself if I don't wanna end up using my rescue inhaler. We carried our stuff from the parking garage where the car is to the hotel, and we needed to make two trips to get it done. I am feeling pretty woozy from having overheated, but my lungs didn't close up or anything. Yay!

Along the way, we stopped at a place called Pizza Yeah. That's in a place called Langhorne, Pennsylvania. It was on the route to DC. Last time we were in Langhorne, J was still playing trumpet regularly in all kinds of different places. He had gotten paid to take part in a Christmas performance, so for a number of weeks, we made several weekend trips there, so that J could participate in rehearsal.

I went with him to make sure that he ate and took care of himself; it's a requirement, because if left to his own devices, he'll push himself way too hard, work without taking any breaks, sleep in the car instead of in a bed, try to subsist entirely on granola bars, dry cereal, and water, and then wonder why he's so exhausted and miserable and borderline suicidal.

…I wonder if you two would get along; you and he have more than a few self-destructive tendencies in common, good grief. I swear to goodness, both y'all gotta stop doing that shit. Cut it out, willya???

Anyway, so back then, we went to Pizza Yeah, because it was close to the hotel we were staying in. And Sephiroth... oh my goodness, their pizza is the stuff of LEGENDS. We haven't been back there since we went all those years ago, and this is really sad. But!!! J noticed that it was along the route, so we decided to stop there for lunch! AND!!! It was super convenient, because it was pretty much at the halfway point between our house and Washington DC, time-wise. So we ate there! And it was EPIC!!!

And before you ask, yes, of course I got pictures for you!! You've read enough of my letters by now, no? What do you take me for??? Hahahaha!!

...Of course, I also snagged some pictures along the drive... These aren't in order, though; forgive me...

...I love taking pictures for you, because I love showing you how beautiful this world can be.

Hey? Did you notice? I'm getting better at taking pictures of birds-of-prey in the sky, even in a moving vehicle! Pretty rad, right? Do you like them...?

Well. I had better get ready for tomorrow. We are at the hotel, and I still have to shower, and I have to wash my CPAP and scrub the inside of my face with the tiny bristle brush, and all that stuff.

Hey, Sephiroth...? I'm gonna do the great big scary thing tomorrow. I don't suppose you'd lend me some of your courage, strength, and determination, would you...? I don't suppose you'd lend me some of your ability to be gentle even when I'm tired and frightened... would you...? I don't... I don't suppose you'd watch over me just a little, would you?

I'll do my best tomorrow. And I'll write to you tomorrow, too, when I get a chance, I promise. So please stay safe out there; I'm sure you wouldn't wanna miss hearing all about how it goes...

I love you. Good night...

Your friend, Lumine

[umbra-vulpes]

Alegraves' Daily Life Headcanons Vol.2

*And we are back for more Alegraves fluff hcs! Most of my hcs ideas are for some minor life stuff yet I love how all these small details in life show how they are together. Hope you guys enjoy it! And please forgive my poor English. The previous post is down below:

Alrighty, Let's Go!

When they first started dating. They really got confused about one thing in each other culture and that is the use of temperature units. Graves is used to using Fahrenheit (°F) as an American and Alejandro are using Celsius (°C) just like most non-American people do. They got really confused about temperature and does have a serious talk about it. But as they have been together longer, their brains just adapt and coverts it in their head automatically.

The other things that their brains are automatically adapted to are time zone coverts between certain places so they can call and talk to each other regularly. For example, they both remember the time zone difference between Japan and Mexico as Graves always needs to visit the shadow bases in Ashika Island, Japan.

Both of them CAN NOT and WILL NOT handle cold weather. As both grew up in places that were not involved with much snow and extreme cold, Even though they have been through all kinds of terrains and extreme situations during missions or training, they just don’t like cold weather in general. It doesn’t bother them much daily but sometimes does irritate them a little if the weather gives them a chill. This is why they always prefer the 141 to come to visit them in Mexico instead of them going to visit them in England. They also prefer to go to tropical countries if they’re on vacation.

They don’t get sick easily but when they do Graves is that exaggerators baby type who always said I’m dying or whines and groans about how sick he is and acts like a kid in order to get whatever he wants, especially Alejandro’s Attention, HE WANTS Alejandro to baby him even more when he sick. Meanwhile, Alejandro is that workaholic type that will get out of bed and work on something as soon as he gains a bit of energy back and go back to sleep like a rock when he is tired, which makes him seem not that sickish but that doesn’t stop Graves mothering him if he hears Alejandro coughing or sneezing, which Alejandro secretly enjoys it.

Both of them are morning people due to their jobs and ranch life. they both have similar body clocks and can wake up without an alarm type. During the weekend or holidays, they usually wake up at the same time as dailies but will stay in bed longer to snuggle or talk or do something wicked or just simply see if they can fall asleep again.

Even though both are very busy, Alejandro’s job is considered more ‘regular’ as he always gets to come home after long days of work, since their ranch is close to the Vaqueros’ base. While Graves’ job requires him to travel often when he doesn’t have a mission or chasing down his enemies, he will stay at home and work on leads or ranching, he always jokes himself as a part-time stay home husband, and Alejandro jokes that he is an American 50s TV shows housewife. They definitely role-play the hell out of this kink.

As for morning routine, Alejandro usually will take a shower first to woke on his intense skincare routine while Graves goes to make their coffee and something simple to eat as breakfast (like an American 50s housewife, Alejandro jokes), after they finish breakfast then it’s Graves’ turn to shower, and Alejandro will wash the dishes.

Graves occasionally will go to work with Alejandro, training with the Vaqueros, making tactics for their co-op and training, or just hang around, Alejandro loves having him around, especially seeing Graves napping on his office’s couch sometimes when he is back for a meeting or let Graves drive him back home after a long day of work, that melts his heart.

They always make up some weird bets, like how long it takes for Soap and Ghost to engage or Will Price to save his cigar or hat first if they both gonna fall, that kind of stupid bets. Rudy occasionally joins the pools, while Gaz always joins in when he is around, they probably have a group chat betting. Little do they know, Rudy and the rest of the Vaqueros also do the same things to them secretly, Rudy wins a big chunk of money betting who and when one of them gonna propose to the other first.

Alejandro can fall asleep very quickly and easily, and he sleeps like a rock but if he got woken up suddenly or feels someone is approaching, he would go into fighter mode automatically, Most of the Vaqueros learn/witness it the hard way. Even Graves got attacked by him a few times when they first started sharing the same bed. But over time, Alejandro finally got used to it at home or other places where he felt safe.

Graves is a light sleeper and has sometimes suffered from insomnia. he can fall asleep but often wake up in the middle of the night, that’s why he always prefers to work out at night and make his body painfully tired so that he can force himself to sleep better. But after sleeping with Alejandro, his sleep quality has become better since they found comfort with each other and if comfort doesn’t enough, rounds of good sex will always work.

Both men are awfully competitive, anything related to a bet or a race or anything comparable, they will try to beat the other men as hard as they can. That ‘I love you but I’m gonna beat the shit out of you’ trash talk is part of their love language, which scared some of their friends.

Graves actually can understand general Spanish and Latin, and he can read and speak semi-fluently. But that National Thick American accent with a Texan accent as a cherry on top never fades away when he tries to speak both languages. Alejandro hates that accent very much but he gives up fixing it as he only sees little hope to succeed over time and he accepts the fact that his husband speaks like an idiot when he is speaking Spanish or Latin.

On the contrary, Graves fucking Loves Alejandro’s accent when he speaks English. It’s hot, but not as hot as Alejandro speaking his own language. That’s one of Graves's biggest turns on and Alejandro knows it and abuses it.

Let me know if you guys want more!

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3126

i got my diploma today! it's fancy and so pretty and i'm so happy with it. it's kind of real, now. far more than before. it's crazy, yknow? i have another piece of paper with my name on it, but this one is (a) bigger, (b) more expensive, and (c) so much fancier than the others i have. i also ordered a frame for it, which i'm gonna be so excited to have in all its glory, all assembled and too big to put anywhere in my house 😂 but it's really pretty and i'm really proud of it. so much has gone into earning this degree, and it's wild that it's done. i still feel like i'm catching up with living.

also i bought more things today. probably shouldn't have. but i wanted outfits for renaissance faires so i got two. whatever. i got them on sale, so it wasn't so bad.

mostly radio silence from joel today, which makes sense since he's away at a con this weekend. i miss him :c

tomorrow i'm going to the movies, which is exciting. we're going to see quantumania, which i'm pretty hype for, since paul rudd as antman has gotta be my favorite character in the mcu at this point. like geez, scott lang is easily the most well-adjusted and normal person in the entire universe. everyone else is kinda batshit or a genius or something, but this one guy is totally normal. he's good at figuring things out. he's just a weirdo, a goofball, a good dad, and a decent guy. in this house we love and appreciate scott lang.

i went out with my mom to get stuff for my sister early in the day, and we brought it over to her. she's been feeling sick lately, so we brought her comfort food and snacks so she can exist peacefully as she mourns the completion of her five-year d&d campaign that finished today.

and for dinner my parents and i went to longhorn as a celebration for my finishing my degree, which i believe is the second time we've done exactly that, but this time i have my diploma 😂 it was good, but my salmon was kinda too juicy and a little undercooked, so i'm gonna slap it in a pan and fry the living daylights out of it instead of forever making the microwave smell of fish.

i read some more just now before putting it down and writing this.

also my shoulder has been a little achey and stiff. it's hard to do the exercises the doctor gave me for post-op when my bahongazongahagas are in the mcfucking way all the goddamn time. in the meantime, my hand has been achey too so the pain radiates into my elbow from both sides. i hope it stops soon.

anyway, im tired. i'm bored. i need desperately to go back to work. and i need to scratch my legs properly, because that shit itches.

i'm so tired.

[umichenginabroad]

Week 9: German Final, Final Trips, and Finally Free from my Research Paper

Willkommen zurück to week 9 out of 10 of my UROP experience in Aachen! With us being in the final weeks of the program, things have been wrapping up in all the bittersweet, nostalgia-filled, and occasionally stress-inducing ways. The research symposium is just around the corner now, and our papers/posters are due Monday (aka 3 days from now… aka AAAAH). Thanks to the Berlin trip I have planned for this weekend, I had extra motivation to put my head down and actually get all my work in order by the end of the week. Such a feat was looking highly unlikely a few days ago, but I am happy to say I will not have to write about Intrusion Detection Systems and dataset generation to the background noises of my Berlin walking tour or Techno music in the club Saturday night. This is a win. 

On Thursday, I had my German final which ended up being one of those exams that inspires you to tap into your philosophical side and begin wise internal dialogues about the benefits and unavoidable nature of failure (yes, this is just me coping). The five T/F questions in our Reading section worth 30/90 points left something to be desired and the Listening section somehow found a way to connect ice cream (in Cyber Space?) to the Industrial Revolution in one confusing speech. (It may be wise to note on that last point that I still have no idea what this man was talking about.)

All that random Cyber Space ice cream talk inspired our German class to get some of our own (normal) ice cream to recover from being collectively humbled by the exam, and it was indeed the perfect cure. I’m going to miss my German classmates and our unifying dread of getting picked for Taboo (a game we played at the start of every class where one person had the unfortunate, isolating task of explaining new German vocab auf Deutsch and the others simply guessed). Though I sometimes wished my German classes were with all the other UROP students, I ended up really enjoying the unique opportunity my course provided to meet people from all different parts of the world studying here and learning German like I am.

Dunkel Schokolade und Menz Eis aka Emergency Post-Exam Mood-Recovery Ice Cream

Even in spite of my looming deadlines and questionable German Final, I still managed to fill the past week with travel and making the most of the finally summery weather (*knock on wood*). Last Saturday, I went to an impressively large fun fair in Duesseldorf that put my sad county fair with its three rickety, life-endangering rides and show-stopping prize chickens to shame. The delicious fair food, loud music, and bright energy felt like a taste of home on the Jersey Shore Boardwalk (without the weird teenagers and suspicious piercing shops) and it was exactly what I needed.

Scenes from Duesseldorf's Fun Fair

We also had Ramen for lunch to make up for not getting it here when the lines were ridiculously long on Japan Tag, and it fully lived up to the hype.

Ramen from Duesseldorf’s Little Tokyo

On Sunday, I traveled with one of my friends to Liège where we made sure to accomplish all the Liège Musts: 

✅ Eating a LiègeWaffle 

Incredibly yum waffle. 8/10. For two point deduction reasoning: see part 3

✅ Climbing the Montagne de Bueren, a 374-step staircase 

Beautiful views from the top of the staircase. I promise I was also enjoying them and not only suffering from getting to the top.

✅ Having a disastrous, embarrassing, all around self-esteem-destroying attempted conversation with a French-speaking person 

✅Finding somewhere (with weird black burger buns?) to eat lunch where we could order online to avoid more of said conversations

The strange burgers in question. Not sure where they were going with the whole “accidentally forgot how to use an oven while cooking your meal and it burned” aesthetic, but it did taste quite good.

✅Exploring lots of beautiful architecture

Some of the gorgeous sites found while roaming Liège

After completing our official Tourists Guide to Liège, we ended the day by visiting a small aquarium/science museum where we proceeded to get distracted by pretty fish, fun interactive exhibits, and these jump-scare-inducing holographic portraits until their closing time. Unfortunately, their closing time also happened to be a few minutes after we would've needed to leave to catch the next train back to Aachen. What followed was a semi-panicked, 2,5 km run with my unathletic jeans, unathletic tank top, unathletic hoodie, and unathletic self. Was it worth it for the single hour we saved by not waiting for the next train? Probably not. Will I be adding this to the official Tourists Guide to Liège anytime soon? 100% no. But I did leave feeling at least 15% as much accomplished as I was tired and sweaty, so that’s something… 

Emo Nemo, Hologram Dog, and distractions from the aquarium that had the audacity to almost make us miss our train

I promise I did do actual work at some point this week, but on Wednesday we had a nice, relaxing UROP picnic that served as the perfect break from it. There were delicious baked goods, volleyball/frisbee games, lots of reminiscing, and enough sun to make up for at least three days of Aachen rainstorms. 

We’re at the point of the program where everything is starting to be labeled some kind of last: Last German Class. Last UROP Weekend Travels. Last Wednesday UROP Activity. Last Motor Bar Night. And it’s all starting to feel extremely bittersweet. I’ll save all my sentimentality for my final blog (consider yourself warned), but I am really looking forward to making this official Last Weekend in Berlin one to remember. Until next time!

Sarah Bargfrede

Computer Science

UROP Program in Aachen

[scarriercontribution]

REAL RESERVISTS share what Civilian life is like in the Navy Reserve Com... This Navy Transition Coach youtube feature of Real Reservists Share What Civilian Life Is Like In The Navy Reserve has both fascinating and intriguiing components. First off, I am grateful to have the opportunity to serve in the United States Navy Reserve since last summer. However one of the most important things I would like to share with someone else considering the navy reserves that I wish I would have known much sooner is this: If you decide to join the navy reserves first it is very crucial/essential that you try to have both a plan A and plan B and potentially a plan C civilian employment wise on how you are going to make it as a civilian via whatever civilian employment andor job opportunities you do while being a navy reservist for at least the first 2 years of your first navy reserve enlistment even if you are prior service military.  The reasons being: Currently as a new navy reservist for at least the first 2 years of your navy reserve career you might be waived from going on any type of navy active duty deployment andor active duty type of orders (unless you get permission from certain key members of your navy reserve leadership chain/group(s) during this time. This can obviously be a happy dream come true arrangement for any navy reservist who would like at least 2 years andor  longer to live a civilian life free from any type of comparable active duty opportunities outside of the mandatory navy reserve drill committments (while being in contrast a shock to any navy reservist who was hoping to pick up some active duty opportunities within the first 2 years of their initial navy reserve contract).  Additionally a navy reservist even if blessed with a highly understanding and open mind civilian employer towards navy reservists may require at least two to four weekdays off each month (outside of days off needed for the mandatory navy reserve drills) in order to take care of medical appointments mandatory to be medically ready, go the closest navy reserve center to take care of certain navy reserve admin and other matters that may be only resolved seeing certain navy tar (training and administration of the reserves) sailors in person that can only be resolved on certain weekdays (due to hours of operation having higher availability on weekdays). The at times weekdays off necessity  may sound Captain obvious to most navy reservists however I had to include this due to my awareness of  some really good civilian job opportunities that only have mainly a weekends off schedule. Please understand that I am stating all of this being thankful that I am a United States Navy Reserve sailor. However something in me wanted to write this for potential navy reserve sailors still on the fence about joining though at least who might go in the navy reserves with both eyes more wide open metaphorically speaking to more of what to be more ready andor prepared for the more easier way andor beneficial way.

[my-life-literally]

I frequently fantasize about writing something clever. About white people. About gender. About being a woman.

But it takes forever to soothe my nervous system sometimes. Especially on the weekends when I am still filling the romance-shaped hole in my life, the missing pieces where C and my sister used to be. It's nothing and a lot. It's a lot having nothing.

I felt like sending him love tonight. I have a stop-gap of love in me for him. For fiction. So I closed my eyes and faced the mountain profile of a man I once lay beside and thought about the time he was here, and our foreheads were close enough to touch, and I thought about that moment and whispered I love you. I thought about a time I was in bed with a man I thought I was falling in love with, and how I whispered I love you then, and then whispered it into that memory. I just felt like it. Sometimes you have to love something with nothing to love.

I hope I am becoming wise and beautiful with time. I want to get my body in order this semester. I am going to keep my life in semesters. I want to make falafel tomorrow and pick up a picture frame. I want to finish my book, and visit my brother.

I want to buy weights, and a new robe and I want to get my hair layered.

I put my ass on a plane with my own money recently. Visiting a friend that is mine. I did that.

My oldest friend had a baby yesterday. Something is happy. Something is off. I hope the baby has what they need. I hope I am wrong.

Tonight I listened to Kings of Leon and Band of Horses. And pretended that S saw me and was still in love with me. But not because I am in love with him. So that I feel like I have some significance. I know he will never forget me. Neither will I. Neither will V.

I sure have tried loving. I sure am not cut out for it.

I just want to have peace, and enjoy crushes and enjoy when men have crushes on me.

This last one really did me in. It really hurts to lose faith in men. In romance. In the way I did before. Even my friends can see it.

But I can heal. I can heal by taking care of myself. I am going to buy weights, I am going to do exercises, I am going to make falafel and spaghetti soon. And I will remember love with love. I will remember love fondly.

[daevite]

it's rly hard to relax at all or enjoy anything when it feels like walls are closing in around me as my graduation date gets closer. i need $ for laundry, groceries, gas, medication, new clothes to replace the ones that are falling apart bc i've had a lot of the same clothes i do now since middle school, new bedsheets, etc.

i'm gonna try re-applying for ebt once i have time in-between schoolwork and my job but i doubt that i'll qualify. i can't work any more than i already am now because i'm barely keeping up with my classes just working on the weekends + i'm mentally and physically disabled in ways that really impact my ability to function, especially irt working a job. i'm doing as much as i can rn. i can't afford to go to doctor's appointments that i need for my chronic headaches that have had me taking too many otc pain meds (probably requiring mew medication) & chronic acid reflux i've had since childhood that is messing up my throat (both likely linked to underlying disabilities i have.)

i'm offering my art commissions but i legit have so little time to spare that if anyone were to order one it would likely take me a few months to finish it. i'll still link them anyway.

idk. not an emergency but just if anyone who is financially secure wants to help me out a 'lil:

p-ypal.me/sardonicdoll

c-shapp: $IthelLovik

v-nmo: @IthelLovik

ko-fi.com/sardonicdoll (art comms)

p-treon.com/ithellovik (webnovel & writing patreon, on hiatus)

thank you.

they're hiking the rent up to like $800 apparently weeks away from me renewing my lease lol i'm not paying my rent but the fact that i'm being pushed even further into financial dependence on my abusers who are the cause of my living situation feeling so unsafe/unstable in the first place makes me wanna kill myself.

[searidings]

hi, i just love you and your writing

can i suggest something - you are in love (taylor swift) and supercorp

i cannot listen to that song without going yeah, that's them

(also on ao3 if you prefer)

Five years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, five years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which is as close as Lena's come to happiness since she'd woken up ziptied to a chair in her brother's office. This moment which, despite the fuzzy feeling of her unbrushed teeth and the pungent aroma of burnt toast filling the air, is perfect.

Kara, bed-warm and sleep-heavy, is gazing beseechingly down at the charred remains of a slice of a bread as though if she only pouts hard enough, its edges will un-blacken and its corners will stop smoking.

“I'm so sorry,” she says as Lena rounds the screen separating Kara's bedroom from the rest of the apartment and perches herself on a barstool, tugging her borrowed sleep shorts a little lower down her thighs.

Kara's tone is mournful, her face so forlorn she looks to be one deep breath away from tears. “I wanted breakfast to be perfect, since it's your first time staying over and if it's terrible you might not want to stay again and I, I really want you to stay again, but I don't know why you would since you probably have a private chef waiting for you at home and I can’t even manage toast—”

“Kara,” Lena interrupts, biting at the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Kara's bottom lip trembles. “It's fine, really. I once set fire to my dorm kitchen trying to boil an egg. And besides,” she winks as blue eyes meet hers. “I like to give my personal chef the weekends off.”

Kara huffs out a relieved chuckle, her face brightening. “Oh, well, in that case,” she grins, a sparkle returning to her eyes. “I'd better feed you up before you go home. Never let it be said that I don't look after you.”

Lena can't help the smile that pulls at her as the warm bright feeling in her chest grows and grows. She tugs the sleeves of Kara's sweatshirt over her hands, fighting the urge to fidget as the blonde orders a frankly obscene amount of food from the brunch place on the corner.

She feels exposed like this, face bare and hair sleep-mussed, unshowered with unbrushed teeth, huddled inside borrowed clothes after the impromptu invitation to stay over when last night's movie marathon ran late. It's a far cry from the regimented composure she fights so hard every day to project, and something in her chest twists anxiously.

Kara is a reporter, after all, and National City really doesn't need any more reasons to hate Lena right now. The darkest corner of her mind – the one which has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything to come crashing down ever since the whirlwind of Kara's too-good-to-be-true friendship had come blazing into her life – still worries that this may all be an elaborate ruse. A trap, a way to get close to her in order to assess her weaknesses, to bring her down with an inside scoop.

But in their six months of friendship, Kara's never given her any reason to believe she has any kind of ulterior motive. And despite the suspicions and anxieties hammered into her by a lifetime of hurt, Lena knows now that even if this is a trap, she'll take the bait willingly. Especially if it means Kara will keep looking at her like there might just be something in Lena that's worth her time.

"Hey,” the blonde says gently, leaning back against the counter opposite and pinning Lena with a searching look. “You okay? You kind of zoned out on me there.”

Lena jumps, blinking back into herself with a start. “Yes, sorry. I was miles away.”

The blonde only smiles, flicking on the coffee machine at her elbow. “You sleep okay?”

“Very well, thank you,” Lena answers, fighting to lessen the formality of her tone, to soften the edges her harsh childhood had sharpened into a fortress to keep the world at bay. “Your bed is surprisingly comfortable. I had a great night's sleep.”

"Perhaps the company had something to do with it,” Kara winks as she turns to pull two mugs down from the hooks at her shoulder. Lena thinks back to the smell of Kara's sheets and the soft pulls of her breathing, to the warmth of Kara's ankle against her calf and the strong fingers that had wrapped themselves in the sleeve of Lena's sweatshirt in sleep, anchoring them together. She blushes.

Kara only smirks, pouring their drinks and grabbing the milk from the fridge. “Well, the food's all ordered, it should be here soon,” she says over her shoulder, the waterfall of her golden ponytail mesmerising in the bright rays of morning light filtering in through the vaulted windows. “And you don't need to head off in a hurry, unless you have plans—?”

She glances back at Lena, who shakes her head. “Great!” she grins. “’Cause I was thinking, maybe we could check out the botanical gardens, since it's such a nice day? Oh, and there's a new bakery right across the street that I've been dying to try—”

Lena listens to the blonde's excited rambling with an endeared smile plastered to her face, feeling happy and warm and wanted with every fibre of her being. The feeling is new but so welcome she could cry, and Lena wonders – not for the first time – how she ever got so lucky.

Kara's presence in her life is like sugar in her coffee; meant only to sweeten that which has always been bitter.

Lena's always taken her coffee black. Softening the blow was never much her style.

But here, now, perched at Kara's breakfast bar with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug the blonde has brewed to perfection, sunlight streaming in and highlighting the angles and planes of Kara's face, the way she’s smiling at Lena like there's nowhere else in the world she'd rather be, she realises her reasoning is twofold.

Sugar isn't just appetising. It's addictive. And now that Lena's had a taste of sweetness, she's hooked.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

Four years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, four years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which may well be one of the lowest of Lena's life. And she's had some doozies.

The two bottles of wine she'd managed to mainline between Sam leaving to orchestrate damage control at L-Corp and Kara arriving and attempting to confiscate her glass have well and truly caught up to her now. She sways heavily on her stool, the room spinning. Tears sting her vision and guilt scorches her throat as she presses a hand over her eyes so she won't have to look at Kara's face anymore.

“Please, just— just, stop believing in me, okay?” she slurs, heart full to shattering with the faces of lead-poisoned children. “I am not worth it.”

She hears Kara sigh, and the room falls silent for a long long time. Lena drops her head fully into her hands, fighting the nausea that's taken root in the pit of her stomach. It could be the booze that's causing it, of course, but it could also be the incessant headlines baying for her blood, the bullet James had taken for her that she'd fully deserved, the curse of her family finally fulfilling itself.

The guilt, the worry, the crushing disappointment of the knowledge that despite her very best efforts, she'll never be anything but a monster— it's too much to feel. It's too much to bear.

So, Lena drinks.

She drains her glass. She pours another. Kara watches, silent and disapproving, fingers twitching against the granite countertop between them.

Lena finishes her glass. Splashes the last dregs of the bottle into it, blood on ice. Still Kara watches, motionless and mute. It's only when Lena's swallowed the last of the red and is lurching unsteadily to her feet to source another that she moves, a hand reaching out to encircle her wrist.

Shame ignites beneath her skin and she pushes Kara away. Snaps at her to go home, to learn to recognise a lost cause when she sees one and just give up already. Kara refuses with a stoic shake of her head, and Lena sighs.

They repeat the same routine three times en route to Sam's wine rack, the blonde shadowing her every step. Each time, Lena wobbles, head fuzzy and room spinning. Each time, Kara steadies her, and Lena flinches from her touch like her palm is a brand, snarls at her to leave, to cut her losses, to just fuck off. Each time, Kara refuses.

She eventually retrieves the wine after a number of unsuccessful attempts but overbalances on her toes, bottle slipping from her grip as she sways dangerously. And then Kara is there, glass bottle caught a split second before it can shatter, a firm arm at her waist that will not be rebuffed.

Lena struggles, shoving and protesting, but this time Kara does not give in. “Enough,” she says quietly, firmly, blue eyes burning a mere inch from Lena's own. “Lena, enough.”

Lena's unsteady legs buckle further and Kara’s basically holding her up now, walking her slowly over to the couch and she shouldn't be this strong, surely, shouldn't be lifting Lena onto the cushions quite this easily. But it's such a minor concern when weighted against the fact that Lena is personally responsible for the hospitalisation of children that her mind brushes over it, forgets it immediately.

"Please go home,” she slurs as the blonde arranges her on the couch, as she stashes the unopened wine far out of reach and sets about finding blankets and pillows in various cupboards. “Please, just— leave me alone.”

“No,” Kara says, almost snaps, glancing back over her shoulder. Partially hidden in the linen cupboard, her face is cast deep in shadow, a splinter of half-concealed truth. “I made you a promise, I gave you my word. I'm your friend, and I will protect you. Always.”

She crosses back to the couch, soft blankets and pillows held out in invitation. When Lena refuses the offering Kara sighs, draping a knitted throw over her anyway and perching on the cushions beside Lena's hip. “I'm not going to leave you, so you might as well stop asking,” she hums, softer now, a hand reaching toward her that Lena no longer possesses the strength or coordination to bat away.

Long fingers make contact with her cheek, with the mussed curls tangling in her eyelashes, and Kara sighs. “You are not your brother,” she murmurs, fingertips grazing Lena's cheekbone, sliding back to thread into the fine hair at her temple. “And you never will be. There's too much light in you to allow for that kind of darkness, so put that fear down, Lena. Let it go. Be free of it.”

Tears spring unbidden to her eyes. “I poisoned children.”

Kara tilts forward and Lena wonders if it's just that her vision has upped its spinning, but then warm lips are pressing against her forehead, soft and delicate as gossamer wings. Kara's mouth moves against her skin, breath damp and sweet and unmistakeably her. “You saved the world.”

Neither one of them moves. When Lena speaks again, the words hit the elegant hollow of Kara's throat. “I don't deserve your kindness. I don't deserve you.”

Kara's lips are still on her forehead. “I don't care.”

Lena feels as if her throat is splitting open, every last fear and hatred and worry and insecurity gushing out of her in an unstoppable stream. “I'm scared.”

“I know.” Kara's lips press once more, and then withdraw. They watch each other in the dim light from the kitchen. Lena's vision is beginning to blur at the edges. Kara's hand is still in her hair.

“You will get through this,” the blonde whispers, so earnest Lena almost manages to believe her. “We'll figure it out. Together.”

Heart in her mouth, tongue sticking behind her teeth, Lena's eyes slide closed.

The sweetness of Kara's words, her gentle touches, seep inside her like honey. She doesn't deserve it but God, she wants it. She wants to be worthy of Kara's faith in her more than she's ever wanted anything in her life. She wants Kara more than she's ever wanted anything in her life.

And it's telling, she knows, that she's just lost the trust of all of National City, that she has no way of easing those children's suffering and no way to prove that she isn't the cause of it, that she's finally living up to the Luthor name she's been running from ever since she'd learned what it truly meant and yet in this moment, with Kara's hand in her hair and the ghostly imprint of her lips on Lena's skin, none of it seems to matter.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

Three years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, three years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which stands alone as an oasis of calm in the turbulent tumult of the past days, weeks, months of chaos. Lex's escape from custody, Eve Teschmacher's betrayal, James’ shooting, the Harun-El serum, the whole shitty totality of it all has been weighing Lena down like an nth metal chain around her neck.

And Kara, Kara hasn't been around. The one person who has always managed to ease Lena's suffering has deserted her when she needs her the most and it feels like she's been sliced open, cracked in two.

She tells her as much, when Kara at last comes to see her. Tells her she's missed her, tells her she needs her, all but begs her to stay. And what does Kara do? She leaves.

And when she leaves, Lena is gripped by a panic so intense she fears she may never breathe freely again. So terrified is she that Kara is gone for good, that she's forced away the best thing that's ever happened to her, that almost before she knows what's happening she finds herself at Catco with apologies dripping from her own tongue.

Anything to get Kara back. Anything to keep her.

Lena apologises. Kara apologises. Lena cries, and Kara holds her, and tells her that the decision to help her brother when he was dying of cancer doesn't make her the monster she now believes herself to be. And standing on her office balcony with Kara's fingers wrapped around her biceps, with her own tears spotting dark on Kara's blazer, Lena manages to believe her.

When she's collected herself, smoothed away the wetness coursing down her cheeks, she speaks. “I really want to help you with your investigation on Lex.”

Kara's face lights up; Lena's whole world along with it.

“I'd love that,” Kara says, voice quiet and still a little tentative in the wake of their new truce. “But first— would you, um. Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Lena blinks. “Don't you want to get started on the exposé?”

“I do. But—” Kara's face is still painted that earnest shade from earlier, when she'd smoothed her hands over Lena's shoulders and whispered you are a brilliant, kind-hearted, beautiful soul against the sensitive skin of her neck. Lena feels her cheeks heat up at the memory, at the intensity in the blue eyes still roving her face.

Kara shuffles her feet but her gaze is clear, unwavering. “But you were right. I've spent too much time recently prioritising the wrong things. So, I want to work on this exposé with you, and I want to bring your brother down. But first, I'd really just like to have lunch with my best friend.”

Lena's heart trips in her chest. “I'd like that too.”

So, that's what they do. Kara asks her to wait, which she does, idly tapping out a few emails on her phone. And then the blonde is back, far quicker than should have been possible, with her arms full of takeout bags from the café on the third floor and she's taking Lena by the hand and leading her to Cat Grant's private elevator. She presses the button for the roof and Lena's gaze jumps to her face but Kara only smiles, and squeezes her fingers. “Trust me, it'll be worth it,” she hums, her excitement infectious. “You'll be safe with me.”

And Lena believes her.

That's how she ends up sitting at the edge of Catco's roof on a clean sheet Kara had borrowed from the builders on the second floor, heels kicked off, Kara's red blazer draped around her shoulders. It is worth it, she'll admit; the view from this high is phenomenal. The sun burns bright in a cloudless sky, glinting off the glass-sided skyscrapers of the business district, the glittering waters of the bay beyond.

Kara had picked up Lena's favourite salad, some flatbreads and dips, and they drink kombucha and eat strawberries in the sunshine. They talk and they laugh and they catch up and there's no more fighting, no animosity, no megalomaniac brothers or backstabbing secretaries or worlds needing to be saved. There's only them, she and Kara, and it feels like all she will ever need.

The blonde's hands are braced behind her on the rooftop and she looks happy and carefree as she regales Lena with stories of her upstairs neighbour's antics, and Lena feels the tight knot of tension that had taken up residence in her chest begin to unfurl.

"Hey,” Kara hums, pushing up straighter as Lena licks strawberry juice from her fingertips. The motion brings them closer, their shoulders brushing. “Look up.”

Lena does. High above them, a huge murmuration of starlings whirls and swoops through the air. Thousands of birds move together as one, a vast wave cresting but never breaking against the blue canvass of sky.

“Wow,” Lena gasps, awed.

Against her side, Kara hums. “Yeah.”

They watch the birds for a long moment, captivated by the ceaseless swirling and diving. When Lena at last tears her gaze away from the sky, Kara's eyes rest intently on her face. "Here,” the blonde murmurs, reaching out. The pad of one finger makes feather-light contact with her cheek. Lena's breath catches in her chest.

Kara holds out her finger, proffering the stray eyelash she'd captured with a smile. "Make a wish,” she whispers, her fingertip an inch from Lena's mouth. Her eyes never leave Lena’s.

Lena looks from Kara's face to the eyelash, and back again. From somewhere deep inside her heart, the truth bubbles its way to the surface. “I don't need to.”

Kara smiles, a brilliant, beautiful smile, and Lena knows. The stresses and anxieties of their current crisis feel far away here, harmless as birdsong. She's meted out forgiveness, received it in return. For the first time in her adult life Lena has communicated an issue with a loved one and been heard, understood. She has admitted her own mistake without having it spell out the end of her relationship.

Lena smiles back. The weight of the world sublimates into nothing beneath the bliss of a simple picnic in the sun.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

Two years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, two years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which has sapped the both of them to the bone. Another fight, another screaming match, another quick-fire back and forth of accusations and recriminations. Another night of cursing and crying and choking on all the things they never said before this, on all the things they can't now that Kara's secret has detonated in the shrinking space between them like a nuclear bomb.

Another round of bloodshed, and for what?

Lena sags against the arm of the couch, exhausted. Her face is hot, scratchy with salt from the tears still drying on her skin. She's dehydrated, probably, and half hoarse from shouting, tongue blistered with the bitter sting of betrayal.

Across the no man's land of her living room, Kara slumps against the floor-length windows, drops her temple to the cool glass. She's breathing heavily, cheeks wet, posture battered and eyes dark-bruised beneath the force of Lena's wrath. As Lena watches, her eyes slide closed.

It's been three months since Lena found out. Three weeks since Kara found out that Lena had found out.

Every night since, they've done this. Every night, Kara has shown up on her balcony and begged, pleaded, apologised, cajoled, defended, rebuffed, and sobbed. Every night, Lena has unleashed the hollow agony of Kara's deception masquerading as anger in her chest, incinerating the both of them in the fires of her desolation.

She would have expected the wounds to have cauterised by now. To feel some kind of release, the relief of catharsis. Or at least, to have expended some of her fury after all this time.

She hasn't.

They've been at this for three hours already this evening, and gotten nowhere. Kara's skin is pale above that fucking supersuit, face drawn and complexion sallow.

Lena knows how she feels. The singular exhaustion that is her rift with Kara has sapped her in every way imaginable. She can't sleep. She barely eats. She's no longer interested in work, research, friends. There's nothing in her life that isn't tainted by the shadow of the lies her best friend told and kept telling, every day for four years. Lena doesn't know how any amount of screaming and crying is ever going to get them past that.

Across the room, Kara sighs. It might be the saddest sound Lena has ever heard.

“Should we keep doing this?” she asks after an interminable silence, voice rough with tears still building. Her eyes are still closed.

Lena manages, with exorbitant effort, to raise her drooping head. “What?”

“Is there a point to all this?” Kara asks quietly, hunched body sliding a little further down the glass. "The explanations, the fighting?”

Blue eyes blink open. The weight of the sadness in them is unbearable. Lena struggles to find it within herself to care.

“Lying to you about who I am is the single biggest mistake I have ever made, and if it will make even one single shred of difference I will apologise to you every day for as long as I live,” Kara says into the aching chasm between them. “But I can't keep doing this. Not if it won't change anything. I can't— I don't want to keep hurting you.”

An hour ago, Lena would have scoffed at a sentiment like that. Would have parried back with some piercingly dry comment about how the blonde should have thought about that before she decided to betray Lena's trust as soundly as she possibly could.

Now, though— now, she's just too tired.

“So, should we keep doing this?” Kara whispers, throat working. “Or— God, Lena. Should we just— should we give up?”

Green eyes meet blue, two shattered hearts haemorrhaging between them. “Is that what you want?”

“No.” Kara's voice is loud, fiercely determined in the face of Lena's hesitant whisper. “God, no. Never. I don't ever want to give up on you, Lena. I don't ever want to give you up.”

Kara straightens then, with a strength Lena cannot imagine mustering herself. Perks of being a superhero, she supposes. Perks of being Kryptonian. The thought stakes another shard of ice through her bleeding heart.

“But I know that I've spent four years calling the shots for both of us by keeping you in the dark,” Kara continues. “I've taken away your agency. I've taken away your choice. I won't do that again.”

She sucks in a deep breath, a little of Supergirl's regality seeping back into the defeated slump of her shoulders. “So, I'm doing what I should have done from the start. I'm being honest with you, and hoping that you'll be honest back. I'm asking what you want.”

Kara's fingers twist anxiously before her, bottom lip bleaching white beneath the nervous pressure of her teeth. “Do you think we should keep doing this? Or do you— fuck.” Her voice cracks, the tears brimming in her eyes once again breaking free. “Do you want to give up?”

Jesus Christ. Lena never knew that the prospect of doing the right thing could hurt so much.

“Fuck,” she mutters as she kneads her knuckles over her closed eyelids, digging in until white lights starburst across her vision. “Fuck, Kara.”

“I know,” the blonde whispers from across the room, brittle and broken. “I know. I'm sorry.”

Lena slows her assault on her own eyelids, pinching thumb and forefinger hard at the bridge of her nose instead. “I want to give up,” she mutters, and in the taut silence between them she hears the blonde gasp, watery and thick.

Lena blinks open her eyes to find Kara's face crumpling, every facet of her seeming to fold in on itself even as she visibly fights to keep herself upright.

Lena sighs, and hates Kara, and hates herself even more. “I want to, but— I can't.” She sucks in a ragged breath, hating the truth that's just fallen from her lips, hating the lies that had necessitated it. Hating everything and everyone and most of all, hating just how much she's hurting. “I can't give this up.”

The tiniest spark of hope flares to life in Kara's eyes. Lena hates that she notices, hates that she cares, hates that the sight eases the tight knot of devastation clawing at her ribcage just the tiniest bit.

She also knows that this was inevitable. She knows that, though she hates Kara, though she's nowhere close to forgiving her, though she has no idea how they can rebuild from here or even if she truly wants to try, a question like Kara's could only ever have one answer.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

One year from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, one year from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which is barely even a moment at all. It's more like a dream, warm and faded and fogged in darkness, seconds stolen when sleep should have long since claimed them.

Kara's nightmare had woken them both. In the month since they'd pulled her out of the Phantom Zone, she hadn't slept alone once. Often, she stays with Alex, curling into her sister's side the way she would when they were just kids after one too many late-night horror movies. Once, she stays with Nia, tucked up snug in a borrowed pair of puppy print pyjamas.

Mostly, she stays with Lena. It's natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, the way Kara will show up at her place after a Supergirl save or Lena will let herself into the blonde's apartment after a late night in the lab. They cook dinner and watch Celebrity Masterchef and brush their teeth elbow to elbow at the bathroom sink and when Kara is inevitably tugged screaming and sobbing from her night terrors, the way she presses her face to Lena's neck and her hand over Lena's heart is natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, too.

Kara's racing pulse has calmed a little, her grip on Lena's body beneath her losing some of its urgent desperation. After a long moment of Lena's hand stroking her hair, of gentle reassurances and lips pressed to her temple the blonde pulls back, just enough to rest her head on the pillow facing her.

In the dim light filtering in through the bedroom window Kara's pupils are blown, her face solemn. There's something in her heavy gaze that Lena can't identify; something weighted and potent that prickles goosebumps up the length of her spine.

"Feeling better?” she whispers into the inch of warm air between them, reaching out to tuck a sweat-matted curl reverently behind the blonde's ear.

Kara catches her retreating hand and holds tight, twining their fingers together on the narrow swathe of pillow between them. If either of them were to move so much as a millimetre, their clasped hands would press against their lips.

The blonde nods and sure enough, the soft heat of her mouth brushes the back of Lena's knuckles. She shivers.

Kara is still watching her, the intensity of her gaze causing Lena's heart to thud hard in her throat. She squeezes lightly at the fingers threaded through her own. “What?”

A pause, heavy and sweet as overripe fruit. Kara blinks once, slow. “You're my best friend.”

Lena swallows down a sudden swell of emotion. The blonde nudges closer and when she speaks, the wet seam of her lips catches on the angle of Lena's bent knuckles, painting her skin with the words.

“You're the most important person in the world to me,” Kara whispers, breaths skating fire-flashes across Lena's fingers, voice muffling out past the mouth pressed to her skin. “You know that, right?”

Lena's voice deserts her in the wake of the quiet words. She leans forward instead, presses her lips to Kara's fingertips where they rest against the back of her own hand. It's answer enough.

She hears Kara's breath catch, feels the disruption mirrored in her own chest. Both their mouths are pressed to the joined hands clasped between them. If they were to move their fingers down even just a fraction, there would be nothing separating their lips but a promise, a prayer.

Kara's eyelashes flutter in the semi-darkness. The tip of her nose brushes Lena's own. Neither one of them moves their hands.

They only gaze at one another a long moment, and Lena wonders if the blonde is memorising the planes of her face the way she's memorising Kara's. She could look at her forever, be happy here with her forever, and in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

For the first time, she wonders if she might not be the only one.

-

Right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking Lena's hand.

It's been three weeks since they'd taken down Lex for the last time. Three weeks since Kara had stormed into the Tower's med bay to cup Lena's bloody, bruised face in her hands; since she'd brushed her thumbs feather-light over Lena's split eyebrow and purpling jaw and growled don't you ever scare me like that again. Three weeks since she'd leaned in and pressed her lips to Lena's.

It's been two weeks and six days since Lena, confined to a gurney but utterly uncaring thanks to the warm Kryptonian curled against her side, had pressed her aching face to Kara's shoulder and first whispered that she loved her. Two weeks and six days since Kara had first said it back.

It's been two weeks and five and a half days since Nia had walked in on Lena in Kara's arms, lips pressed to her neck and hands wandering beneath her sweatshirt, and promptly shrieked the place down. Since their friends had exchanged pointed glances and relieved sighs and congratulated them on finally making it official, their expressions ranging from overjoyed to exasperated to plain exhausted.

It's been two weeks and four days of she and Kara dating; of morning kisses and shared showers and the perfect partner at game night and all of Lena's wildest dreams coming true.

It's been less than a minute since Kara had admitted, hushed and wondering, that she'd known she was in love with Lena ever since she'd found herself suddenly prepared to poison National City's entire water supply rather than let Lena fall. That she hadn't been able to fully it admit it to herself until she'd found herself suddenly prepared to alter the course of all of history in order to get Lena back.

And right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking her hand. She's looking deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice barely rises above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And now that she has, Lena is sure of her answer.

The highlight reel of her relationship with Kara lays itself at Lena's feet, each precious memory between them stretching out like a roadmap of her growing affection, with every hard-won step leading her right to this moment.

And in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love with Kara. Really, she always has been.

[thatoneidiotdts]

Sleeping (+morning routine) headcanons for some genshin boys

A/n: hello ladies and gentlemen I'm happy to announce that I may be back now that my life has decided to stop throwing endless shit at me. Now I also write for genshin so feel free to send asks in my inbox!!

Warnings: nightmares for xiao, favoritism in diluc's part, purposeful misspelling and slander in C*ilde's part,overall tooth rotting fluff

Zhong li

Sleeps like a rock (pun intended)

This man will not wake up unless there is an emergency

No matter how much noise you make or whatever is going on around him he'll stay there laying in bed completely silent

His breathing is so quiet you think he's dead half the time if not for his endless sleep talking

And you can actually have full on conversations with him while he's asleep

Also he sleeps in a solider position which leaves you to cling on him like a koala on a big ass tree

Sleeps in really soft bamboo pyjamas that you bought for him

Zhong li will only wake up at exactly 7:30 am no matter if it's a week day or a weekend/ his day off

He also doesn't stay in bed for more than 10 minutes unless as stated before its his day off and you aren't awake yet

The man will stay there taking in the sunshine rays from the window as he's looking at your peaceful face

After an hour or two hell rub your back and gently wake you up with forehead kisses while softly calling your name

When you finally wake up you usually start with the morning hygiene and whatnot

Also he will ask you if you want to take a morning bath together but absolutely respects you decision if you won't and you don't need to even give him a reason you declined in the first place but will make sure you know he loves you no matter what

After that he will sit down with you and drink tea and have breakfast with you for the next two hours

It's the only reason he wakes up so early

T̵̻̦̥͌͝e̸̟̗̮̮͌a̷̙͕͉̿̍͝

After that he goes to do his usual shift at the wangsheng funeral parlor

Venti

Menace to society

He either sleeps sprawled out in a starfish position with his arm and leg over your body or in a fetal position with his face buried in your breasts/chest

He usually sleeps in your clothes or in his everyday clothes

His little snores are super cute tho

Venti's snoring isn't super loud, it's actually really quiet but still there

Since he's a bard he stays at the Angel's share until it closes which is usually very late into the night so he sleeps until like 2pm

He isn't a heavy sleeper so you usually accidentally wake him up if you have some errands to run early in the morning

Venti will cling to you and pretend that he's asleep so that you can stay in bed with him

After like 20 minutes of this he finally let's you go and makes you promise him that you'll be back quickly

When you returned to your shared house from doing commissions you found him still sleeping in the bed so you quietly took a shower and snuggled in with him for another hour or two

After he finally wakes up for real this time he has breakfast lunch with you and goes off to Angel's share but not before giving you a thousand kisses

Kaeya

He's sleep schedule is ON POINT

He always gets back from Angel's share at exactly 1:00am, showers, eats and does his skin care routine and gets in bed around 1:30am

He also wakes up at exactly 9am but stays in bed until ten

He trashes through the night, he also talks in his sleep but it really weird and it's mostly things that are in English but you can't understand them at all

Kaeya is also a blanket snatcher and will snatch your blanket if you aren't holding it tightly

I feel like he also sleeps with socks on but has a few special pairs of socks that have some cute patterns that he would rather be caught working with the fatui by his own brother than wear them outside once

Also sleeps in silk pyjamas, doesn't care if the cotton ones are easier to breathe through, he likes the feeling of silk on his skin

Kaeya loves his personal space and he doesn't like to be touched while he sleeps but makes up for it when he's awake but still in bed

The only exception is when it's cold outside, I headcannon he's naturally cold and he doesn't like it at all

His morning routine is 90% of him taking care of his face and showering

His skincare routine is also more expensive than some people's houses so don't touch his products plz

Kaeya will gladly teach you the basics of skin care and will buy you your own products that thinks will suit your skin better

He's also almost late to work every day so every day you see him put on his shoes calmly, take in a deep breath and then he kisses you goodbye and runs off like a mad man in order to get to the headquarters on time

Diluc

He has so much unprocessed trauma I would be surprised is sleep schedule is anything but a mess

Diluc doesn't sleep a lot, he would have a normal sleep schedule but since he has a lot of stuff to do all the time it stops him from sleeping property

Not only does he work as a bartender at Angel's share when Charles can't he also works as the Mondstat's one and only Dark Night Hero

He usually comes home around 4 or 5 am and will only sleep until like 8 and you will have to force him to have a nap in the afternoon

Also he sleeps in his everyday clothing and he's sometimes too tired to even take his coat off

Diluc sleeps on his stomach which causes him to have back and neck problems but it's the only way he can actually fall asleep

He's a really light sleeper which also adds up to his sleeping problem

Also he snores loudly, like really loudly, and he only snores at night for some weird reason

You discovered that because one day you accidentally woke up at like 6 am and you couldn't fall back asleep because of his loud snoring but you didn't dare to move since you knew how little rest he gets

He's not a morning person at all, if he didn't hate alcohol, he would be the person that chugs half a bottle of vodka in the morning just to keep him awake

Diluc usually starts his morning off with some personal hygiene and then starts doing the endless paperwork without even having breakfast or anything to drink

So out will have to force him to eat and drink so that he doesn't pass out from work

On the rare days he doesn't have any work to do he usually sleeps them off to make up for the time he didn't sleep

Albedo

Chalk boy over here also has a terrible sleep schedule

He's not really forcing himself to stay up but rather doesn't realize how late it is

You will have to pull him out of his work in order for him to go to sleep

Albedo has a special pair of pyjamas that he wears when he's sleeping and he only wears them because for his last birthday Klee has given him a pair of pyjamas that were originally grey but she hand painted them herself with the help of Jean and Lisa and he's been sleeping in them ever since

And when i say every day I mean every day

But don't worry he hand washes them every two days and takes special care of them in order to not wash of the fabric paint

His snores are also really quiet and quite cute, I recommend commenting on that if you wanna see him blush ^-^

Albedo usually sleeps on his stomach but unlike Diluc he is small enough to not crush you under his weight so he usually sleeps with his head on your stomach or buried in your neck

Pease touch his hair he melts when you do

Albedo can sleep for a looonng time if you don't wake him up so he relies on you to wake him up or else he'll spend the next 16 hours in bed sleeping without a care in the wold

When he wake up he does his usual morning routine, which is usually a quick shower, breakfast, brushing his teeth and his hair out, and then goes off to work

He will absolutely make you have a nap with him in the afternoon or whenever he feels tired

Xiao

He doesn't sleep much, hell I don't this man sleeps at all sometimes

Adepti don't really require sleep or food like normal humans do

It took a lot of time for him to trust you enough to sleep besides him

Xiao doesn't feel safe while sleeping at all, he also fears that his karmic dept might take affect on you so he keeps his distance for quite some time

For the first month or two he would wear his normal every day clothes but then you gift him a cute plain green onesie and at first he straight up refused to put 'that thing' on but he gave in and hasn't sleep in anything else since

At first he would be the big spoon so that he can protect you from any harm but when you spooned him for the first time he felt so safe and warm he never wanted to let go of that feeling ever again

After that he would ask you under his breath if you could spoon him more often, you barely understood what he was saying but perfectly understood what he wanted and needed.

He also regularly has nightmares which causes him to trash around and maybe whack you in the face once or twice but you're quick to calm him down

Xiao never really realized that he was hurting you until he gently hugged you and you winced because he accidentally touched the small mark he left the previous night after having another nightmare

Doesn't touch you or sleep with you for a week after that, he already hurt you enough but you don't really care so you coaxed him into sleeping with you again very easily since he missed your warmth a lot

He doesn't really have a morning routine but he does wake up every morning before you so that he can teleport to the Huaguang Stone Forest to pick some Qingxin flowers for you

He's also gets back into your arms right before you wake up so that it seems like he never left in the first place

But you always notice the new fresh bouquet of the beautiful white flower on your desk and thank him for it

T*rtaglia

Listen here ok I'mma be real with y'all

Turbulence sleeps exactly one hour less than normal people but makes it seem like he gets like 2 hours of sleep per night

"Ugh I didn't sleep last night at all😩😏" Like bro stfu

He also makes jokes about sleeping so little because he was with you last night or that he was training so hard or doing a mountain of paper work

While you know damn well he was with you entire night sleeping like a baby right by your side

He sleeps naked solely so that one day when a hypothetical intruder gets into your home he can scare them off by yelling at them while being completely naked 💀

But he will put a pair of pyjamas on if you're uncomfortable

He mostly sleeps on his side because he needs to hold something while he's sleeping, if you aren't with him that night he will hug your pillow and sleep like that

Tagliatelle also doesn't like to sleep when in a cold room so he will have one of those water bottles that people use for back pain and will put one in the pillow he's holding and two in the blanket itself

He's totally a morning person and has no problem with getting out of the bed in less than like 10 minutes unless you ask him not to

If he has a day off he won't sleep in that much but he will curl up beside you and 'accidentally' place his head on your boobs/chest

Y'all saying Terrorism is the caring older brother? WRONG he's the forgotten middle child. we ofc know about Tonia, Anthon and Teucer but he also has two older brothers and at least one older sister

I feel like he's the middle child that had to take all the responsibilities when the older three/four moved out

So yeah he can make a damn fine breakfast for you without skipping a beat

But don't let me even start on his personal hygiene

Like shower are fine ok and he baths once a week only because he can but like

I know damn well his back teeth are ROTTING

He only uses mouthwash and brushes the front and bottom part of the teeth so that they look presentable meanwhile his back teeth got their souls sucked out

Moving on from that Tellurium can't really spend the whole morning with you so he will have to leave you late in the morning.

Coffee? :>

[totiredtowrite]

Wolf In Sheeps Clothing

Warnings - Cursing because angry boy, reader being a cold mf, reader's clothes are described (but kind of vaguely so dw)

Note: I feel like I can hear the gif for some reason :D? Kind of self indulgent so reader is shorter than kyotani. Poor mad dog, always being put in his place by pretty boys. I'll have you know that I consult the wiki everytime I write something for character details by the way. (bragging shamelessly). Reader is also a second year and the student council president because this is fiction and I'm not sure if you have to be a third year hehe

this turned out longer than I thought it would, really popped off with this one

Male Reader

Kyotani Kentarou has a new enemy.

Whether or not you knew he though of you as an enemy didn't matter to him.

Suprisingly, it doesn't happen as often as some might think. His awful attitude and uncooperative nature ensures that he makes more enemies than friends, but most people are too afraid to approach him in order to become one of the two.

His new enemy?

You. (L/n) (y/n), Student Council President.

Kyotani never really though much of you. Not when you campaigned for the spot, (despite being in the second year), and not when you got the position. He's seen you, sure, you made that whole speech when you got the part and you oversaw detention sometimes.

Kyotani, (surprisingly), didn't get detention much. On the one time you oversaw the detention class when he was supposed to be there, he decided not to go.

So, overall, he hardly saw you at all. You were nothing but a passing thought in his mind when he heard people talking about you. He never expected to talk to you, much less consider you his worst enemy.

~~~

It really was a normal day for Kyotani. He woke up, took a shower, ate on his way to school, and slipped into class with his usual "fuck with me and you die" look on.

Practice was cancelled that day as the coach was out sick, so he didn't really have anything to do. Everything was all normal for him, right up until the end of the day. Kyotani was stalking through the hallways, the other second years moving out of his way and giving hushed whispers to their friends as they got ready to leave.

He was used to that, and even liked the feeling it gave him, knowing that these people were actually afraid of him. He was close to his locker when it happened.

He ran right into you, almost knocking you back. He glowered down at you, an angry spark in his eye that would have any other student running far away. You however, just stepped back to be clear of his general bubble, and looked up at him with a frown.

Truth be told, he had never really seen you up close. True he'd overheard some of his classmates talking about how 'intimidating' and 'handsome' you were, but Kentarou didn't expect to actually feel it coming off of you. He didn't expect to point out how attractive you were right off the bat.

The hard glisten in your eye faded as you scanned his face. You know this guy. Your expression changed from 'stone cold dictator' to 'unbothered student council president.'

Somehow feeling the tension, most of the students cleared out before either of you said a word.

"Kyotani Kentarou," you said, "Number 16 on our schools volleyball team. Infamous for your out of control aggression and prowess in your sport." You smirked at him quickly, straightening your blazer and standing up straight.

"The hell," he lifted his head to look down his nose at you, "why do you know me?"

You shrug. "I keep tabs on all the students I think are troublesome. Or interesting." He watched as you casually turned to your bag and pulled out a large binder. "You're on the first page, marked in red." you had a somewhat mocking tone in your voice, that coy smirk returning.

Kyotani growled, the noise sounding surprisingly like an animal. You were much more cocky up close. Cocky and aggravating. He moved closer to you so that your chests were almost touching while you put the binder away, and looked straight down at your face. "I can be much more troublesome," he said lowly.

You barked out a laugh. "Careful there Mad Dog." You advanced, causing Kyotani to step back. "Or I might just think you're threatening me," you continued to move forward. Kyotani took more steps back. The only way he could describe the feeling was like he was being herded like a sheep.

Another animalistic growl left his throat when his back hit the lockers. By now everyone had left, leaving just the two of you. "You aren't leaving a very good first impression on your president," you say dangerously, almost mocking your own title.

"Why do I need to leave a good impression on you," he muttered out. You didn't say anything and instead lifted your arm above his shoulder to slam it by his head. He recognized this feeling. Yet somehow, it felt all different.

Not once had the rumors spoken about the affect you had on people. You scanned his face again, those intimidating (e/c) eyes holding him steady in place. His breath hitched in his throat softly when you pulled your hand back to straighten his tie. "You don't," you said referring to his earlier question, eyes focused on his tie. "And you haven't."

You pulled away from him and stepped back, patting him on the shoulder before turning on your heel to head towards the doors. You turned your head just as you were about to leave, the blue grey light from the cloudy sky making you seem more threatening. "Take care, Mad Dog." You left the school building, leaving Kentarou breathing heavily and on guard at the lockers.

~~~

He really didn't expect that from you.

He had had a similar feeling, when Yahaba threw him into a wall and scolded him during the spring preliminary game against Karasuno. Similar, but not quite the same. It felt like you had him trapped. He still had your words replaying on repeat in his mind.

Those rumors he heard about you didn't do you any justice. He never heard anything about how easily you could make people feel... things. For once, he felt like he was the one being hunted. And oh boy did he not like that. All those times he'd seen you, he thought you looked like a regular goody two shoes who would report even the smallest wrongdoing to the teachers. He didn't expect a calculated, threatening boy who had a binder of 'troublemakers' and a heavy presence.

He didn't sleep more than 2 hours that night.

Maybe it was your eyes that were etched into his mind. Maybe it was your smooth voice, that look that made it seem like there was so much more under your surface.

So naturally he came to the conclusion that you were his rival.

He managed to avoid you all till the end of the week, Sunday rolling around like a saving grace. He didn't see you once for the rest of the week, but it still felt like you were watching him with those calculated eyes of yours. His shoulder still felt all weird and tingly from where you had touched him.

The weekend felt like an asylum to him, a feeling of safety and control returning to him when his older sister sent him out to go pick up some things from the store.

Kyotani had decided to cut through the park on his way back, but now he was quickly regretting his decision. It's not like he was afraid of you, he just thought that avoiding you would be the best option.

The last place he expected you to be was sitting in the park, staring out at the little man-made pond with a few birds at your feet. You had an overcoat on to compensate for the slightly chilly weather, a sweater visible underneath it. Your shoes were tapping the ground rhythmically.

You looked much less intimidating out of uniform. You had a neutral, content look on your face, cheek squished against your palm with your elbow resting on your knee. It was almost cute, he thought, if that was the right word for it.

"Are you just going to stand there forever," you turned your face towards him and regarded him with lidded eyes. "You can sit down you know."

He jumped, standing still for a second before slowly moving towards you. His guard up like a wall as memories of your last interaction replayed through his mind. His breath quickened ever so slightly, and his ears turned pink.

He slid into place on the bench next to you. You turned towards him again and smiled. He went bright red.

It was an actual smile. Not that cocky smirk, but a soft clad cute smile. You focused your attention back on to the pond.

"You live around here," Kyotani inquired gruffly.

You nodded. "I don't go out much. Usually cooped up in my room working on god knows what." You leaned back, draping your arms gracefully across the back of the bench. "Sorry about our little encounter, by the way. I must have come off way scary, right?" You gave him that soft smile again.

He looked away and hid his cheeks with his hand. "Like I'd be afraid of you," he muttered.

You hummed softly. A thought struck him. He regained his composure before speaking again. "You must have known that I live around here, right?"

You nodded wordlessly. "It was in your file."

Kyotani decided not to comment on how creepy that was, and instead muttered out a small "oh."

Neither of you said a word for a few moments.

"We really got off on the wrong foot, huh?" You turned your whole body towards him, watching his movements like a cat.

He just grunted.

You laughed a little bit, and extended your hand. "Why don't we start over. I'm (l/n) (y/n)."

Kyotani eyed your hand suspiciously before taking it. The tingly feeling returned, but this time it felt stronger as both your hands were bare. Your slightly smaller hand gripped his firmly, the slight size difference making Kyotani blush a bit.

You really weren't what he thought, were you? Even so, you were still his enemy. His cute, scary, calculated, calm enemy.

He doesn't even know what hit him.