#once again there is minimal proofreading on this one haha

[dandylovesturtles]

Decided to write a quick little something for @whumperless-whump-event Day 4: chronic pain/"I'm used to it."

featuring, of course, Sidelined Leo!

like I said before, since it's disability pride month I'd like to do a few things for the Sidelined AU, so hopefully I will find time for more as the days go. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

-----

Leo can tell it's going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up.

The pain in his arms and legs has grown from it's constant dull thrum to a more present burn, and there's a pinch between his eyes that tells him a headache is on the way. Really, he's not surprised; the last few days have been really good. He even went out on a mission two days ago, and did a little skateboarding yesterday. It stands to reason that his body has crashed out on him.

Sometimes he feels angry and bitter about it. Today, he just feels a sort of resigned acceptance. And that means maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

He hits the button on the side of the bed so it bends him into a reclined position, then fumbles around on his side table until his hand lands on his pill organizer. He should probably text someone to bring him water, but it feels like a pain, so he dry swallows them one by one and just resolves not to mention doing that to Dad or Raph.

Then he finally blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks around his room and... darn it, his chair isn't here. Where'd he even leave it...

His memory is a complete blank on that one, so he sighs and clears his throat.

"Hey, Shell-man?"

There's only a second of silence before Shelldon's voice echoes from who even knows where. Donnie rigged his new room with more electronics than Leo will ever know about.

"S'up bro?"

"You know where my chair is?" he asks, like Shelldon can't track it instantly.

"You left it in the arcade, dude," comes the answer. "Want me to wheel it over?"

Yeah, no way he's getting himself to the arcade today. "Sure, thanks, Shelly."

"No problem, dude!"

Leo lets his head flop back on his pillows while he wants for his chair to be delivered. He fumbles around for his phone this time and takes a look at his reminders.

6:00 PM: Concert with Mikester

"Crap," he mutters, closing his eyes. Right, that yokai hip-hop group Mikey wanted to go see. Leo had promised he'd go with him, but he doubts he'll be able to do it now.

It's not that big a deal. Raph or Donnie will probably go with him if Mikey makes big enough puppy eyes at them. It's just, Leo had been kinda excited about it, too...

The dark buzz that heralds his anxiety flares up, and he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow. He doesn't want this day to turn terrible. He needs to relax and accept the things he can't change, like April always says. Even when it sucks.

There's a whir of electronics that signals the arrival of his chair. Leo waits until it parks itself next to his bed, then he swings his legs over the bed and stands up just long enough to sit down in the chair again. Even that leaves him feeling a little winded, but he doubts his arms could have handled the transfer so he doesn't bother trying.

He wheels around his room until he finds his big comfy unicorn hoodie, then drives out into the rest of the lair, making his way up the ramp to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast cooking, and hear Raph's voice.

"Morning fam," he says as he comes in, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he already feels tired.

"Morning Leo!" Mikey echoes, turning around with a whole plate of waffles. His smile falters a little when he sees the chair and the hoodie. "Oof. Flare up?"

"Yeah," he admits, steering his chair into the empty part of the kitchen table. Mikey sets the waffle plate down, and without having to be asked Raph starts fixing some for Leo, with blueberries on top.

It took work for them both to find the line between helping and babying, but they're better at this now. Leo doesn't mind Raph helping him out this way, especially because he'd rather not make a mess of the kitchen table.

"Mikey, can you grab my fat fork?"

"It has a name," says a tired voice behind him, and Leo smirks as Donnie comes around the side and makes for the coffee machine.

"I just used it. It's the fat fork."

"It's a GeniusBuilt Secure Grip Adjustable Fork-"

"I'm not saying all that."

Donnie huffs. Mikey snickers, swinging around him to deliver the fork with the thick grip to Leo. He has another set with a loop that can secure to his hand if he needs it, but this one is fine for now.

"Here!

"Thanks Angelo."

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Raph asks.

"Yes, Mom," says Leo, rolling his eyes as he cuts off a bite of waffle.

"Really? 'Cause Raph didn't hear you ask anyone to bring you water-"

"I had some leftover Gatorade in my room," Leo lies quickly.

"Uh-huh." Raph looks at him skeptically. "Leo, you know taking pills without water hurts your throat."

"Meh meh meh, you'll hurt your throat," Leo repeats in a mocking voice. Raph reaches over like he's going to cuff Leo on the head, then seems to rethink it and steals some of his blueberries instead. "Hey!"

"You are all so noisy already," comes Splinter's voice, and he finally comes into the room to join them, wearing the robe he slept in. He looks up at Leo in his chair. "Are you in pain, Blue?"

Leo hums an affirmative. "It's not that bad, though," he adds, because it's not. Comparatively.

Now it's his dad's turn to look skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Leo grimaces. "It's... a little worse than normal," he amends. "But I can handle it."

"Mmm..." Splinter walks off to get in his own seat. "Let us know if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah..."

The conversation moves on to other topics, up until Leo's wheelchair beeps at him. He groans, glancing down at the battery indicator, which is firmly in the red.

"You forgot to charge it, didn't you?" asks Donnie, looking amused.

"Shut up, I've been busy!" Leo snaps back.

"If you left it on the charger when you aren't using it then this wouldn't happen."

"Alright, anyone else have any criticisms for me today?" he says, except it comes out a shade too bitter and Donnie's grin falters.

Good job, Leon, way to be a dick. He winces, focusing again on his waffles. His arm is sore from the effort of eating and he wants to crawl back in bed and stay there, which is exactly the sort of attitude he's been trying to avoid.

"...I have the backup chair in the lab if you need it," says Donnie. A peace offering.

"Thanks," says Leo, returning it.

So after breakfast, Donnie helps him swap chairs. His main one is put on the charger and he wheels himself to the living room with the backup, then calls for Raph.

"Think you can help me get comfy, big guy?" he asks.

"Of course," says Raph with a grin. "What do you want?"

It's nice that he asks now, instead of assuming.

Leo directs him to help him onto the couch, then Raph gets him his fluffy blue blanket to cover him up. Even though he took his meds, he can feel the pain radiating at his hips and knees and he guesses he's going to need more later. He sets an alarm on his phone and settles in with a Jupiter Jim flick to fall asleep to.

He's not out yet when he hears the pad of feet, then feels the couch dip as Mikey sits next to him.

"Hey Leo," he says softly, and Leo gives a hum to let him know he's still awake. "You think... you're gonna feel up for the concert tonight?"

Oh right. Shoot. It had already slipped Leo's mind, and now he feels guilty all over again.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head so he can see Mikey. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta apologize!" says Mikey quickly. "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's fine," says Leo. "I'm used to it."

"I'm still sorry," says Mikey firmly. He gets up, then comes over so he can give Leo a very awkward couch hug. "I wish you didn't have to hurt," he says, sincerely.

Leo leans into the hug. Feels the dark buzz of anxiety ebb away.

"Hey, it's alright. All you guys make it easier."

Mikey beams at that, bouncing back up. "Hey, I know," he says. "I'll get Donnie to help me set up a sweet livestream so you can see the concert from right here!"

They don't have to go to all that trouble for him. But Leo looks up at his little brother's shining smile and can't say no.

"That'd be really cool," he says, and Mikey claps his hands.

"Yes! Okay, I'll go get Dee and we'll get on it!"

He races away. Leo chuckles, curling up under his blanket.

Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

[ugh154628]

You are literally fucking weird 🤢 Lets end the drama so let’s flip said “predator “ off when you see them? You are one dumb ass bitch and pathetic ass excuse of a human get a fucking life instead of harassing others you fucking creep ass. You are literally so weird

Haha, this sounds like a spiraling Brandi.

First of all, using "literally" twice in the span of 3 sentences, once of which was a terrible run-on says it all. And with the "Let's end the drama so let's--" please work on your vocabulary sentence structure if you want me to take you seriously. I'm guessing the tantrum you're throwing has your heading spinning a little too fast and you're getting ahead of yourself. This whole thing sounds like it was typed by an angry second grader. I suggest settling down and proofreading next time.

Secondly, I never said "let's end the drama". I have said time and time again for nearly six years now that I want to stop being harassed and stalked, and that I won't shut up about it until it stops. And it has never stopped, so here I am. This also isn't drama. I haven't called it that since 2019. This is a long-run serious situation that has had a severe impact on me and I want justice for it.

However, if you're referring to "Cece" and "Ricky" acting like THEM being ready to move forward and expecting me to just fuck off / pretend none of the trauma she put me through prior to them dating again happened, just expect me to be a-okay about what she did all those years at the snap of their fingers, please shut the fuck up. They don't get to control my position and my reactions, especially considering the present circumstances. They don't get to tell ME how to feel and how to react to being STALKED for years on end, and it's bullshit their justification for continuing to harass me together was because of my upset from "Ricky" dating her again while he was still on my lease...able to legally enter my home with her...kept my nudes on his phone as well as other pictures/videos he had no business keeping... you know, after years of psychological torment, defamation attempts by her, and overall fear of her, considering her ridiculously extreme vendetta against me.

Mm, no. I get to be upset, talk about that, and talk about what they continue to do me. Just because they weren't traumatized and jUsT wAnT tO "let it go" (for their own benefit, mind you) doesn't mean I'm required to ignore the severe impact it had, AND CONTINUES to have on me since its still happening, then not talk about it. Of course it would be easy for them. They weren't the ones hurt on a criminal level. I was and still am. And the way they not only totally disgard and minimize my position in this, but BULLY me for not just "getting over" the trauma they put me through for YEARS on END...is actually sociopathic.

Also, imagine throwing a tantrum in my inbox over me flipping someone off. Who was following me in a vehicle. Continuously riding my ass at eventually 75 MPH because I was speeding up trying to put distance between us, and that was before I even realized it was him. Imagine being so butt hurt about someone's middle finger that you write an anonymous question whining to them about it in general. That sounds like some dramatic pick-me Karen shit.

I would have say take a chill pill, but considering your overreaction, it sounds like you've already had a few too many of those.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

[uwurakax]

boy, i need you ♡

pairing: akaashi x reader ♡

genre: angst // cheating // minimal swearing // suggestive (not explicit) ♡

summary: he knew it was wrong, every fibre of his being told him it needed to end with you. so why couldn’t he bring himself to do it? ♡

♡ sequel to ‘boy, i hate you’ - read the first part here ♡

word count: 2k ♡

author’s note: warning, not proofread or anything! wasn’t planning on part 2, but then it was brought up and i thought “hey i can work w a 2nd pt”. reader has no gender mentioned - but again ig default fem if theres vibes here? idk. also have a note at the end so there’s no spoilers here haha. excuse the crappy writing as always - my 2am brain refuses to work at any other time ty for coming to my tedtalk that no one cares about ✌️ ♡

♡ (inspired by f.u by little mix) ♡

unfaithful

/ʌnˈfeɪθfʊl,ʌnˈfeɪθf(ə)l/

adjective

1. engaging in intimate relations with a person other than one’s regular partner in contravention of a previous promise or understanding

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Akaashi couldn’t say exactly why his infidelity started. Honestly there was nothing inherently wrong with your relationship. You were amazing, loyal, kind and everything he could ever want in a partner. He supposed at one point he was like that to you. Not anymore though. He could never be like that ever again. Not when he found comfort in the arms of another. Another that wasn’t you.

Akaashi knew it was wrong. Wholeheartedly he wanted to free you of the unforgivable. Did he take advantage of your sweet behaviour? Deep down inside, he knew he was. The cheap thrill of loving somebody else while you waited patiently for him back at home. Back at the home the both of you had made together. The home that he had inadvertently tainted with the presence of another. 

This is the last time.

How many times would he tell himself that? That the momentary pleasure he got from her was just that. That he’d stop before it went too far. 

Over a year later was already beyond what was classified as ‘too far’.

He couldn’t kid himself into thinking it was just a brief lapse in judgement anymore. Not when he didn’t stop. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you in the slightest. How could he do that? To the one he promised to love. The one to always be there for you, care for you. To do everything a good boyfriend should do. 

To never, ever be the reason for your tears.

He knew he didn’t have the right to feel this way. It was selfish. Completely and utterly selfish. But when he’d come home and find you there waiting for him, while he was whispering sweet nothings, words that should’ve only been reserved for you, to somebody else just minutes prior, he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache. Akaashi, ever so observant, noticed that you stopped faking your smile. He remembers the first time he saw it. 

5 months after his unfaithfulness began, something he swore that’d happen just once, he saw the look on your face. The warm smile you had greeted him with just earlier that morning before he left, was now gone. This smile wasn’t as bright, and the shine didn’t reach your eyes. He didn’t like this smile. It was beautiful of course, because it was from you, but he didn’t like how fake it was. You had given him some half-assed excuse.

“I’m just a little tired Keiji”

He knew you too well. Knew you were lying to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to press on further. Day after day, your smile continued to drop. Further and further, until it was some terrible imitation of the one he had fallen in love with years ago. No matter how much you tried to hide it, he would always notice the slight redness in the whites of your eyes. Dark and puffy under-eyes that you tried desperately to conceal. The tone of your voice, no longer lively and cheerful. He supposed after a year, you just didn’t want to pretend to be okay anymore. 

This will be the last time.

He’d break it off with you. His silent promises to spare you from anymore pain. The guilt ate away at him, feeling the nausea rise in his stomach. You deserved someone better than him, someone who would treat you the way you should be treated. He used to be that guy. Where did that man go? What happened to him? He supposed he didn’t have the right to be that person anymore.

He was always so tense thinking on what to say to you. On how to finally admit his wrongdoings. Whether you knew of his actions behind your back, finally voicing them out would be the nail in the coffin. The confirmation that he was indeed doing the things that you were suspecting him of. Perhaps thats why you could never ask or actually push forward with it.

Because even if you knew, with great certainty, you could deceive yourself into thinking he was still the boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Akaashi only received a fleeting moment of peace from his thoughts of you when she was around. He absolutely despised it. It was despicable how he could find a sense of safety in her arms. It should’ve been you, only you. It was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong, and yet he couldn’t help but think it felt right. It was wicked and evil, there was no other way to put it. Her hands. Her kisses. Her touch. All the moments with her made him forget about you, if only for a brief period. The gentle feel and traces of her were like invisible tattoos, covering all the places you had marked, kissed and touched.

It was all just too intoxicating for him. From her silky smooth hair to the softness of her skin. However, when he ran his fingers all over her body, he couldn’t help but think of you. God he was pathetic. So, so badly he knew it was wrong. He already had you, had your love, had everything you had to give. So why would he run for comfort to her, only to end up wishing it was you instead? It didn’t make sense, and he couldn’t understand it at all.

“Keiji, why don’t you stay the night?”

“I can’t, I’m sorry”

“It can’t keep going on like this. You guys should break up. Then you wouldn’t have to keep going back there, and then you can finally stay here with me. Isn’t that what you want?”

No, it wasn’t. It was probably the reason why he’d never stay over with her. Because he always wanted to come home to you. If he didn’t want to stay with her, if he didn’t sleep in the same bed with her, if he didn’t want to hold her hand - everything he wanted to do with you - why did he still do it? Why! Why! Why! It constantly plagued his mind. He was just selfish.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

And so, Akaashi sat in his car, with his grip on the steering wheel, thinking of the words to say. He knew he needed to be delicate, but firm. To the point, but not blunt. ‘This will be the last time’, he says to himself. The last time he thinks of the words to say. The last time he sits in his car contemplating about everything. The last time he has to hurt you. He’ll let you go, let you cry, even let you throw any object in reach to let out your frustrations on him. Just as long as he didn’t have to hurt you anymore. With a shaky breath, he unlocks the car door and steadies himself. He makes his way to house you both shared, hand on the handle as he closes his eyes. It’s time to face the music.

He quietly opens and closes the door behind him, setting his belongings on the dark oak table sat next to the door. He hears you in the kitchen, your feet padding around on the tiled floor. He makes his way there and freezes. You’re slaving away in a large t-shirt and shorts just a bit too big for you. They’re his without a doubt. You hear his shoes clicking against the floor and turn around to face him.

“Welcome home Keiji”

He hated that the gleam in your eyes was gone, and that your lips had to form a smile way too forced. He hated what he had done to you.

“I’m making your favourite, it should be ready in about 10 minutes”

With that, Akaashi loses all composure. He steps forward, his long legs carrying himself towards the stove top, situating himself behind you. He reaches around to turn it off, and moves the pot to the next hotplate. You turn around to question him, only to end up surprised at how close he was. You’re flustered, and he can easily tell how nervous you are at the way your eyes dart at anywhere else but him.

The temperatures rising in your body, and you swear that Akaashi can feel it steaming out of you. He closes the distance quickly, and soon enough your tongues are fighting for dominance against each other. He was in such bliss, it was like your lips were moulded to be with his. In moments like this he could forget. When your touch covered the traces of her. When your taste overwhelmed hers. He wanted you imprinted on him again. But he knew, knew that soon enough, he’d wash it away with his mistress. A continuous cycle of you and her. Disgustingly selfish.

This will be the last time.

The last time he takes your hand. The last time he has the pleasure of kissing you. The last time he undresses you. He takes his time, drinking in your form under the moonlight. Not even the darkness could overshadow your light. He knows you do the same, your eyes focused on him now. You push him forward so he falls back on the plush mattress. Why would he ever think about anyone else? He knew this had to be the last. The last time he’d let his eyes fall over you. He needed to save these moments in his head so he’d never forget.

The last luxury he’d have of you.

So he’d soak it all in, ingrain it forever. He needed to remember it vividly so he could look back. Look back at the idiot he was for ever hurting you in this way. He didn’t deserve you in the slightest. He thought that if he could capture every last detail, it could be the least of his karma. To miss what he took for granted.

How many times had he thought that himself?

And at the end of it all, he’ll just lay there. In the bittersweet afterglow of the love you two had shared. He’ll close his eyes and prepare himself to lose it all. Lose you. You think he’s asleep as he’s so still and his breathing so even. You’ll comb your fingers through his hair, just like you always do, and mumble quietly about your devotion to him.

“I love you, so much Keiji”

You pray he doesn’t hear you, but he does. As clear as day, you whisper confessions of love and admiration for him. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. Not in the slightest, not at all.

But the gentle kiss you place on his lips has him reeling, and his resolve cracks. He can’t do it, because he’s just that selfish. He knows that in the end, it won’t be the last time. He’ll go through it all again. The guilt will eat him alive. The feel of bile on the tip of his tongue no longer phasing him - he’s gotten used to the taste. He’ll break your trust, again and again, and then carelessly attempt to put the pieces back together, just to shatter them more. It’s cruel, he knows this. He wishes you’d just insult him. Cuss him out. Do anything, but show him love over and over. He loves you, he truly does, and he knows how horrific it is to do this to somebody you claim to love. He just wants you to hurt him, tell him what a disgusting asshole he is, how he’s a piece of shit, a waste of space. Any and everything you can think of.

But you don’t.

And while you continue to show him affection, he’ll drown in the abyss of despair that he, himself put him in. Because during these moments he could pretend that you actually loved him. That you didn’t know of his cheating ways. That he wasn’t touching you with the same hands that held someone else.

So tomorrow it’ll all start over, and the cycle will continue. He’ll keep on breaking your heart, and you’ll both pretend to be okay with it. No matter how many times he told himself it would be the last.

He hoped that one day he wouldn’t be such a coward. That he would finally cut the strings that tied you both together and just end it. Akaashi knew it was wrong, but he was just that selfish and hypocritical.

extra: IM SORRY! i know this probably wasn’t the part 2 that was wanted but 🤟😭 i couldn’t help myself! pls give any akaashi merch hugs and kithes 🥺🥺 my friend told me this mad him mad at him (i was going for sad, so im sorry if you get angry 😭) 💕✨ tysm if you read it 💝

[bittersweet-n-smilin]

13 for any f/o you want! -cloudyships

OH BOY! IT IS PAST MIDNIGHT AND I AM READY TO GO! THANKS, PAL!!! I’m gonna go with Hero because I have a lot of Feelings about him right now hehe. @cloudyships

13 - “I think I love you.”

Notes I guess: as i said its after midnight so proofreading will be minimal. i also know very little of machines so things will be wrong in the first part.

                                                      -------

“So, uh.... What do you want me to do with this...... thingy,” she held a small bit of machinery in her hand. She had little idea of what it was or what it was for, but Chocolate Pie knew it was important for her friend Hero’s suit. Why did he even ask her to assist him with this? There were plenty of others who could have helped him get the repairs done faster! Were they all sick or something? They must have been.

“Oh! Just..... set it over..... there, and,” Hero only glanced up from his work, pointing to a small table a few feet away from where the two stood; he could barely keep a sentence going, “try to-” His instructions were interrupted by the complex mechanics spitting black smoke in his face with a bang.

Chocolate Pie almost dropped her handful, rushing over to make sure he was ok. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Shock and concern flooded her voice. She grabbed his shoulders, turned him towards her, and asked, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“...... Choco, my glasses are covered. I can’t see anything,” he sighed, “but, yeah. I feel fine.” He answered with a smile. It was only then she realized how dirty his face was. The front of his white hair along with his glasses were completely covered in black. “Why don’t we take a break,” he suggested, pulling the filthy lenses off his face, “for me to clean up and you to de-stress.” He gave her a warm, comforting smile. For a moment, she thought her heart would explode.

“W-wait! Let me help a little!”

“No thanks. Please don’t.”

                                                     -------

“Well, that only took forever,” she smirked at her friend as he stepped into the room. His hair was wet and his expression was unamused, though he internally chuckled just a little. She could almost hear the ‘Haha very funny’ threatening to spill from his lips, when she noticed a little black smudge on the side of his cheek. “Hold on. You missed a spot.” She stepped towards him and wiped the mark away with her thumb. Then, he said it. He spoke the one thought that had been playing over and over in his mind like a broken record every time he saw her.

“I think I love you.”

“.......what.”

“I.... think I,” he raised his hand to cup her cheek, “love you?”

She only stood there, eyes widened. She was certain her cheeks were candy red. “You..... think you love me?”

“Well, maybe not think I-” he glanced away, his cheeks burning as well and his arms flying to his side, cursing himself for letting it slip out.

She grabbed his shoulders once again, this time to bring him down to kiss her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Both were silently praying the moment would last forever. He finished his thought once they parted.

“I know I do.”

                                                    -------

it is currently a little past 1am. im proud dangit. i hope i still like it in the morning, cuz this is getting a morning rb. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa blep. i need to go to sleep right now, don’t i

[whythinktoomuch]

uni au uni au uni au (thankyou!!)

I was somewhat confused when I first awoke to a sudden influx of attention, but then I noticed that Jill—AKA, the braincrush of my life—had reblogged my writing and so that explains that, haha! 

As for the slowburn uni au, it is very likely that I will not actually get around to writing it. That train of thought unfortunately has long since left the station and many others have taken its place. However, I can share a taste of how it would have started.

When you hear the words, you don’t spare them any attention, already convinced that they’re intended for someone else. Why would anyone be calling out to you when you’re minding your own business? Just sitting in the quad, unsuspecting, with your legs tucked underneath you and a book in hand.

But, oh, are you wrong.

“Watch out!”

Something strikes your book with enough force that it’s torn from your grasp. You flinch away, hands already raised to shield your face from any potential danger. After a couple of breaths to steady your pulse, you slowly lower your hands again, cheeks already aflame at the intrigued stares the commotion has drawn.

You grit your teeth, barely biting down on your urge to send the passersby scurrying with scathing remarks that even Lillian might approve of. But of course the threats would all be empty because you wouldn’t be involving your mother in any of this.You’re the one who chose to enroll into a public university, is how she would reply all too smugly. That’s what you get.

And that is indeed what you get.

You glance around and take note of where your book’s landed a good three feet away from you. There’s a lone football lolling by it. A football of all things. What oafs, what honest heathens.

“Wait, wait!” A voice rings out right as you go to stand. A blonde girl in glasses and a high ponytail is running towards you, hands outstretched and waving. “Don’t get up! I’ll get it for you.”

You settle back onto your knees, jaw tightening, and acquiesce. The stranger doubles her pace and promptly retrieves your book and the football before lumbering back to you with both items tucked underneath one arm. She better not try to shake your hand.

“Sorry about that,” she says, thankfully holding out just the book. “Mike’s still working on his aim.” She jerks a thumb over her shoulder, presumably at this Mike character, but you don’t follow her gaze.

“All right. Thank you.” Your words are curt, just short of haughty. A practiced tone you reserve for these sorts of irritating situations in order to minimize contact with strangers. But it doesn’t quite work this time.

The stranger nods at your book. “Are you in a queer theory class?”

“Pardon?”

She shifts her weight to one leg then the other and shrugs. “You know. Theory for… queers? Queer theory?” She shakes her head and laughs. “Sorry, I’ve only taken an intro course, but we did read that.” She gestures toward your book with the football in hand. “History of Sexuality, right?”

You blink at her slowly. “Yes.”

A smile breaks over her face and it’s brighter than the sunshine streaming through her blonde hair. “I knew it! That cover’s pretty distinct. Though I didn’t read it in French.”

“Well, translations often lose some of the nuances found in the original text,” you say, and you really don’t know why you’re still talking to this girl. She’s cutting into your leisure time.

“Really? That actually makes a lotta sense!” the evidently very excitable stranger says, fumbling with the football as she goes to adjust her glasses. “What sorts of things have you noticed in—”

“Kara!”

This time you do follow her gaze when she turns around. A few people are watching from the distance. One guy in particular has his hands cupped around his mouth. Mike, presumably.

“Come on!” he calls out.

The stranger—or Kara, you suppose—rolls her eyes at you, the first instance of anything other than outright enthusiasm. “Sorry about that.”

“Not even a problem. It would appear that your friends are waiting for you,” you say coolly, “and I should get back to my reading, so.”

Kara nods at you. “All righty then. I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?” With a small wave, she heads back to the clearing where her friends are ambling about, Mike throwing his hands up in the air in question.

You’re still watching her unhurried jog when someone drops heavily next to you, shoulders intentionally colliding with yours. You sigh. You’re never getting back to your reading at this rate.

“Whatcha doing?” Veronica asks in a purr, leaning back onto her elbows. “Making some new friends?”

“As if,” you say wryly. You observe as Kara finally reaches her friends, tossing the football to the closest one, right before Mike runs up to her and throws her over his shoulder. She shrieks in laughter, fists pounding on his back as he spins her around and around. You finally tear your eyes away, glancing down at Veronica, who’s now picking spare blades of grass off your dress. “Are you coming over tonight?”

Veronica smirks, her fingertips skirting down your bare leg. “What’s in it for me?”

“Sex,” you say bluntly, and Veronica laughs but doesn’t relent. Her thumb rubs little circles into your knee. “And dinner. Before or after. I’ll order some double-layered chocolate cheesecake for dessert.”

Veronica gives a pleased hum. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” She rolls onto her back rather lazily, hands folding underneath her head, eyes closing. “But for now, I’m taking a little nap in preparation. You do your thing.”

You open your book again and flip through the pages to find your spot, eyes casually wandering as you do so. By chance, they match with Kara’s from all the way across the quad. She waves. You turn back to your book, pretending you didn’t see.

//

“Hey, I never got your name.”

You look up with a start, instantly struck by the purest blue you’ve ever seen. It’s that blonde girl. Again.

Kara—if memory serves you right—drops into the chair across from you.

It’s been a week or so since the football incident and you’ve done a fine job of all but forgetting it ever happened. But here she is again. Demanding your attention. At the library.

“Excuse me?”

“Your name,” Kara says. “We met, but not really. It’s not really real until you exchange names, right?”

You blink at her. “I’m busy,” you say shortly. You glance pointedly at the textbook open before you—the same one that’s right next to your notebook, your coffee mug, and all your pens and highlighters galore.

Kara grins. “Hi, Busy. I’m Kara!”

She holds out her hand, and you sigh, glancing around to see if any of your neighbors are as irked by this blonde’s enthusiasm and volume as you are. But no one else seems to have even noticed. Lucky them.  

Kara eventually takes back her hand once you’ve ignored it for long enough. “So, what are you working on?”

“Thermonuclear dynamics,” you rattle off, and Kara’s mouth drops open in delight.

“What! What is that?”

You hesitate. “It’s… engineering.”

“Ooh. Is that your major?”

“Yes…”

Kara grins at you. “That sounds so impressive! I’m an English major, with a concentration in journalism.”

You almost wince at the prospect of choosing such a soft major. What your mother would have said if you had even considered something like that. Speaking of… “I should really get back to work,” you say, and Kara nods understandingly.

But she doesn’t leave. Instead, she drops her backpack to the floor and retrieves her Macbook. “Do you mind if I work here?” she asks. “I got a few essays to proofread.”

You want to sigh, frustration already bubbling up your chest. “Will you be quiet?”

“Of course!” Kara says, miming a zipper across her lips. “It’s a library, you know.”