#idk if it was just last year or not but still

[hatsukeii]

think fast / childhood bsf!tsukshima kei x reader

genre(s): childhood best friends x soulmates???? past lives and normal people by sally rooney coded im a sally rooney MEATRIDER!! angsty, gut-wrenching longing, bittersweet / hopeful ending so it's not all bad!! nostalgia is going to carry this fic so hard it's going to be a fun, fun time...

warning(s): eventual smut!! all characters are aged up to 21!!MDNI (at least up until the observatory)!! wrap it before you tap it!! (sorry kids), female leaning anatomy because smut but pronouns are gn all throughout and honestly you could read it as gn anyways:)) dead dad warning (my dad is NOT dead this was just convenient to kick off the thing), i fw the timeline of the world??? pretend flip phones were still in use in like 2012 or something idk

wc: ~6.3k

tldr; time has a way of reminding Kei of its presence, and its escape. you are the reminder it has been sending to him for six years.

Fate: A power believed to cause and control all events, so that one cannot change or determine the way things will happen. 

It is a sunny afternoon when you step foot into Sendai, Miyagi. A beautiful day of golden warmth beaming onto petals of pink, red, and white, wrapped in coffee-stained newspapers and tied together with a spool of twine. The bouquet lies on browning grass, a contemptible reminder of the time that has passed since your last appearance here, six years ago, and you crouch down to the ground. Now face to face with the engraving of a full name on a slab of polished granite, you hesitate. Your father lived in a language that you can no longer speak, died in a country you no longer call your home. When you whisper blessings and apologies at the gravestone in broken Japanese and slurred syllables, you sound like a stranger. A stranger who sits in a graveyard at noon, with nothing but a bouquet from the nearby florist in hand, and a promise, stuttered out in half-decent Japanese, to return again the next year. 

When a second bouquet falls to the ground behind you, and you turn around, Tsukishima Kei thinks this is what English speakers like you would call fate. He’s a little taller now, and bulkier too, and you have to crane your head higher than you remember just to meet his eyes. You don’t recognise the glasses he dons anymore, the black rectangles from his teenage years swapped out for rounded squares and silver frames. But he has a towel in his hand, a towel that has his initials poorly stitched into the corner with red string. You wonder if the matching one he made you, eleven years ago, is collecting dust somewhere in your dormitory, halfway across the world. 

“You’re back.”

“It’s been a while, Kei.”

You can no longer differentiate Japanese syllables clearly, and your statement jumbles into nonsense in your head. Kei hears the English woven into your accent in the way you roll your tongue like foreigners do, and in the odd intonations that don’t exist in your mother tongue. You don’t even remember your father’s dislike for white flowers. London has truly done a number on you. 

“Why? Why now?”

You bite your nail, a persistent habit that Kei frowns at. He picks up his flowers, and steps towards the gravestone, just close enough for your knee to brush against him for a moment. The bouquet in his hand is wrapped in plastic and filled with red and pink, the white from your own sticking out like a sore thumb when he places his flowers gently on the grass beside yours. He tosses the towel in his hand, opening it up against his palm, and you take it from him. If you cannot get the language right, or the flowers, this is the least you can do. Cobwebs stick to the fabric as you sweep at the granite slab, watching soot and dust fall to the grass. The curves and dips of the gravestone are familiar once again, and you dig the towel into every nook and cranny. You feel Kei’s body shift, before his knee is touching yours and his face is finally level with your peripheral vision. He glances at you, waiting. His knees bounce in anticipation. 

“Never had the chance, college has been a lot.”

Your phone rings as you finish cleaning. The ringtone is familiar, unchanged from when you used to have a flip phone, in fact. Kei hums along to the jingle for the four seconds that the call is left unanswered, before it cuts off into a flurry of English. He catches something about research, and a thesis, his shabby English unable to fill in any more than that. He’s never known you were interested in research, let alone what it is that you’re researching. All he’s known is your aspiration of becoming a librarian when you were six, and his promise to borrow books from you for the museum that he swore he would one day work at. Now, he works at the museum, sorts antique scripts and yellowed books into cabinets and display shelves. He does not borrow books from you. Now, you talk, but nothing makes sense to him.

You end the call, mumbling foreign curses as you shove your phone back into your pocket. Clicking your tongue, you turn to Kei, who stares at the flowers on the ground. He pushes his glasses up when they slide down his nose, and you resist the familiar urge to nag him about buying the right frames for his face. 

“Yeah, college has been mostly phone calls like that.”

He nods, a half-hearted chuckle huffing from his nose. He’s forgotten what it’s like to sit at a graveyard with somebody else, the annual reminder of a lonely death replaced by another this year as you dust off his towel, and drop it onto his thigh. He swipes it from his leg, folding it into quarters and sliding it into his pocket. 

“So you choose to come now, without a word? Not even a heads up? Six years after leaving?” Kei’s voice rises at each question, the same way it did six years ago when you broke the news of leaving Japan to him. This hurts him to ask, that much you can still recognise.

“I would have come sooner if I had the chance. I’ve missed everyone so much.”

You pluck a petal from a white flower in your bouquet, then another, until all that remains is the naked bulb, and scatter them onto the ground beside you. Perhaps the next person that’s been buried under six feet of dirt used to have a liking for them. Kei remains unmoving, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. His knee stops bouncing. 

“How long will you stay for?”

“Today, then Friday and Saturday too. Flight back is Sunday night.”

Six years of waiting, and this is what it amounts to. A weekend and a bit. Despite that, Kei still thinks this must be fate, in all the languages that it exists in. Six years of life, and love, and hurt, all to be condensed into four measly days. Yet as Kei pushes himself off the ground, dusting his trousers off, he still thinks that this unlikely, yet conveniently timed visit must be the answer to his pleas for your return. That this must be some heavenly reward, good karma for visiting your father’s grave annually on your behalf. You watch him turn to leave, and he calls out to you as he walks away from your father’s grave. 

“Everyone’s at Hinata’s old place tomorrow. You should come by if you can.”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Change: to replace (something) with something else, especially something of the same kind that is newer or better; substitute one thing for (another).

All it takes is one coincidental exchange of panicked glances at the first throw up of the night for you and Kei to leave together. Hinata slurs a drunken farewell, tries to embrace you as you slip your sneakers on at the door, and you make a note to yourself that you really do not miss most of the people here, spare for the volleyball team. Kei waits at the door, holding it open for when you finally shake Hinata off of your back, and step through. The night is chilly, the warmth in your skin from the indoor heating system emanating into the midnight air. You kick rocks along the pavement as you walk, scattering pigeons that remain awake and active at this time, and Kei smiles at your antics. You still hate birds, and you still remember the trick he taught you when you were nine for chasing away pigeons that flocked around you for food. 

“Who are you staying with?”

“My mom’s.”

The road leads the two of you to a high school. Kei has not come back to Karasuno since graduation. You squint in the dark, scanning the school, and you don’t recognise the new building that stands in place of the old auditorium. He watches you crouch at the plaque next to the front gate, tracing the letters engraved on it with the pad of your thumb. Some part of him blames Karasuno for being a bad place to you, the other parts blame himself for not being good enough to outweigh it.

“It’s changed.”

“Everything has.”

You rattle the locked entrance, the chain and padlock hitting against cold metal. It won’t open, so you look up through the gap of the gate. Six years ago, on that rooftop, was where you stood over a cold lunch box and emptied convenience store drinks, back against the wire fence, saying to Kei, I’m leaving tomorrow. On that day, you had packed yakisoba for his lunch, and nothing for yourself. He could barely respond to your announcement, only dropping his chopsticks and asking you, why? You told him something along the lines of being an expat, and a better school for what you wanted, all in the fluent Japanese you once spoke. Nothing made sense to him anyways. 

When you turn back to him, his hands are in the pockets of his jacket, and his nose is red from the cold air. You stand beside him, staring aimlessly at Karasuno from outside its barriers. 

“Do you still play volleyball?” 

“Yeah, Sendai Frogs.”

You hum, and then wonder why you only asked tonight, and why you’re surprised. He shrugs, clouds of white puffing from his mouth when he breathes out. He tries to blow a wisp of hair away from his face, and you suddenly realise that his hair has grown too, along with his height. It fails, and he tries again. You reach up to swipe at his bangs, before running your fingers backwards through his hair. It parts itself as you lift your hands from his head, and falls into place neatly. A cold breeze whizzes by, and undoes your work, sending strands of gold into his face once again. You snicker a little.

“You know, you could ask my mom to trim it for you like she used to.”

“Nah, I prefer this.”

It isn’t until you turn to look at him properly that you see how much time has passed. He likes his hair longer these days, the choppy hairdo of his teenage years now nothing but an old preference, and you wonder if he is still a loyal customer of your mother’s salon. When he pulls his hands from his pockets and blows hot air into them, calluses line the bases of his fingers, the blisters of his high school years hardened by trials of time and effort. There are bags under his eyes, eyes that are now a little rounder, and softer too. When he speaks, monotone and tired, you realise his snarkiness has dissipated into general frustration. You stare until his eyes dart to you, and turn away quickly, ashamed. Leaving Karasuno has taken your hand and led you to a purpose that you never knew you were capable of. You wonder what the hell it has done to Tsukishima Kei. 

“It looks good.”

He breathes in sharply, then exhales with a huff, shoulders relaxing as he stuffs his hands back into his pockets. You suddenly realise that your fingers have gone numb from the cold of the night, fingertips tingling like a million frost-bitten needles poking into your skin. You also stuff your hands into your pockets, rubbing your fingers against each other to generate some heat. Then, Kei’s looping his arm around yours, and pulling you away from Karasuno High School. He keeps on his straight path, and you stumble along behind his leaping steps. When you round a corner, the night breeze grows into something less imperturbable, and more vicious, pushing the two of you forward from behind in slashes of cold. The sea is near. 

“Is this the beach we used to go to?”

“You still remember it.”

He drags you down a flight of stairs to Fukanuma Beach, and the misty sea air rushes to your head. When he leads you to the shoreline, you hesitate. The sea has been off limits since the two of you were five, a regulation put in place in remembrance of the Great Sendai Earthquake. An earthquake that saw Kei and yourself hunched beneath the same table in the middle of class, huddled next to each other as you cried for your parents. Now, in your final years of college, as the water slips beneath the soles of his shoes, pushing and receding in layers of aqua and bubbles of white, it seems that time has slipped by just as easily too. Time, that saw the fading of the earthquake’s devastation, despite the loss of thousands, including your father. Time, that frayed the string connecting yourself to Kei as you moved through life halfway across the world from Japan. Time, that passes through you like sand spilling between your fingers on a beach you once thought you knew, but has changed like the unprohibited water that seems to push further up into the shore at each tidal wave. 

“They lifted the ban?”

“A few months ago, yeah.”

You step into the next wave that fizzles into foam, and the water crashes into the toe of your shoes. Crouching, you push mounds of wet sand into a cylinder, flattening the top and pushing divots in equal intervals. Kei joins, moulding shorter ones beside your own and drawing windows into the side. You finish, and he stands, smiling at the creation. You cover the top, afraid he will stomp on it, a trademark of Kei’s whenever you built sandcastles with him in childhood. Instead, he laughs, and walks further into the water. When you get up to join him, the hems of his trousers are soaked, shoes also covered in a sheen of wetness. You hop over the castle, and the next wave that comes sends its foundations crumbling back into the sea. 

“We used to do that. You’d destroy it every time.”

Kei chuckles, and looks back to see the half destroyed castle. Clicking his tongue, he returns to the rubble, and you watch his hands push mounds of sand towards what is left standing. 

“I’d always build a better one for you afterwards though.”

He dusts his hands off when he finishes, and the waves fizzle out just before they hit the two-tiered sandcastle. You sniff, holding your arms close to your chest. When Kei looks up, he feels like the summer of being seven years old again, smiling at you with his missing front tooth when you sniffle and laugh at the improved castle he’s put together for you. Now, it is winter. He only grins with the corners of his lips. You only sniff because it’s cold. 

“Kei.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s really been a while. How have you been?”

He steps over the castle towards you, careful not to break it. Your hair blows in your face from the beach breeze and your eyes squint from the sand that flies into the air, and Kei takes it all in when you’re face to face with him. When he opens his mouth, some selfish part of him thinks about casting his words into shackles of regret, so heavy that they weigh you down and keep you in Japan, in Sendai, on this beach, somewhere close to him.

“Do you want to stay the night? Like you used to?”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Nostalgia: A sentimental longing, or wistful yearning for a return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition.

Kei does not take you to his family house. He leads you up stairs that make no sense, and hallways that stretch on forever, until you finally reach his flat. He wipes his shoes on the doormat, throws his keys into a glass bowl upon entry, and hangs his jacket on a hook mounted to his front door instead of the coathanger that used to stand beside it. You look around, searching for the shells you once collected in a jar for his tenth birthday. When your eyes land on a jar filled with conches and cowries, you let go of a breath you were unaware of holding. They sit on the top of his bookshelf, above textbooks and file organisers. A knot forms in your throat at the realisation that the jar sits alone in its compartment, with nothing beside it. You’ve done the same to the jazz vinyl Kei gifted you at the airport before your departure. You don’t realise that he’s disappeared somewhere as you stare at the shells, until a shirt and a pair of shorts are thrown into your chest. He stands at the entrance to a hallway, donning sweatpants and an old hoodie, one that’s clearly a size too small. The pocket is lousily sewn on, a result of a mishap that occurred when you had borrowed it once. He doesn’t know that you spent the night learning to sew fabric just to fix it.

“Change. It’ll be more comfortable.”

You scurry through the hallway to his bathroom, pulling the shirt and shorts on hastily, before balling up your clothes and returning to the living room. Kei sits at his couch, now bound in leather instead of fabric, and clicks at the television. You join beside him, legs splaying across his own subconsciously. He doesn’t move. He stops at a movie, one you’ve seen hundreds of times before at his old house. It drones on in the background as he watches in silence, his arms now draped over your knees. The first time he watched this movie, it was in his old home, cross-legged on the carpeted ground with you on the couch behind him. Your hands used to press into his shoulders from above, shake them whenever your favourite scenes came on, squeeze them when you laughed until tears rolled from your eyes. Now that his new flat lacks a rug, he’s willing to settle with your legs on his own. Flashing lights illuminate the dark room in sequences that you can still recall perfectly from memory. He watches the movie. You watch him. 

“Have you been doing good, Kei?”

Turning to you, he pushes his glasses up into his hair, leaning further back. You shuffle closer, legs bending as your shoulder digs into the leather couch. A strand of blond falls into his face, and you lift his glasses to tuck it back, before smoothing your hands over his mess of hair, combing and pushing with your fingertips.The words from the television melt into gibberish when he hums in satisfaction, what is unspoken between you two is more glaring than ever.

“I’ve been okay.” He cuts off, then finds himself thinking of what to tell you first, amongst the recollections of life that rush through his head. “Started working at the museum a couple years ago.” He wishes that you still remember the building, where the marble floors squeaked beneath your slippers, and glass panels lined the walls, hiding away treasures and artefacts that have withstood centuries, maybe even eons of erosion and weathering.

You nod, mind filling with the many museum visits you had with him there. He’s always liked the dinosaurs more than the shells. When you breathe out a chuckle, he knows you’re recalling the time he almost pissed himself at a life-sized, moving tyrannosaurus rex model. 

“What about you?”

“Research. I’ve been doing research about…” you sign in the air, searching for the Japanese words that have slipped from your mind. Surrendering, you whip your phone out, searching for a translation. 

“Archaeology?”

“Yeah, that. No more librarian dreams for me. More dinosaurs, though.”

A smile finds its way onto Kei’s face, one that softens his cheeks and flattens his eyes into crescents. He wonders if amongst the silver plaques and digital displays, your work is engraved in there somewhere. If each time he explains something to some bright-eyed child, who scuttles around the museum as you and him once did, he is unknowingly speaking in your language, translated until he can decipher the thoughts that run through your mind in your research, your memories, your dreams too. 

“Maybe it’s in the museum somewhere. I’m willing to bet.”

“I hope it is.”

Your conversation fizzles back into silence, and the characters on the television do too. The two on the screen sit in a field, mere inches apart. The two of you look at each other, your knees now leaned into Kei’s chest and one of his arms draped along the back of the couch. When he pulls his glasses back to his eyes, and studies you all over again, it hits him that you really haven’t changed all that much, even after your six year separation. Six years older, with the exhaustion of a functioning adult, but you still gnaw on your cheeks, and tilt your head as you ask questions. Six years apart, and you are still you, who taught him to build sandcastles, and introduced him to his favourite movie, and fixed his hair whenever it stuck up in stubborn peaks of gold. When you let your eyes close, and drop your head onto his shoulder, you wait for lost time to tick backwards, until you’re on the rooftop with him once again. In this version of time, you blush when you tell him that you’ve chosen to stay in Japan instead. Pushing your head further into the crook of his neck, Kei’s chin reaches over to rest on the top of your crown. The credits of the movie roll in the background, and you mumble into the skin of his pulse. 

“Can you take me there? I’ve missed it.” Your words send vibrations down his spine, sending his head into a frenzy as he pushes his hands against the couch harder. 

“The museum?” It will be closed for the weekend, but Kei nods anyway. He’s sure he can find his way in through the back. Maybe he’ll take you to the fossils again, let you run your fingers along smooth amber and stone engravings. Perhaps he could show you the new exhibitions, ones that you won’t miss this time, as you have for the past six years. For now, he thinks he will let you sleep on his shoulder, listen to your soft snores, tremble at every hot breath that fans onto his neck. 

The credits roll to the end, and come to a stop. Kei removes his arm from the couch to grab the remote from his coffee table. He rewinds the movie to the start.

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思慕 [しぼ, shibo]: yearning; deep longing, especially when accompanied by tenderness or sadness.

On the final night of your stay, you learn that Kei still giggles when he breaks rules, as he drags you through the back entrance of the closed museum. He maneuvers through hallways of antique paintings and repurposed junk, slips into dark stairwells illuminated by the flashlight of his phone, traps your wrist between his fingers and chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he takes you higher, and higher, and higher. You’ve lost count of how many flights of stairs have gone by when he taps his keycard against a sensor by a backdoor, and pushes it open. The museum observatory, once a mess of bamboo scaffolding and green covers, now allows silver moonlight through its glass dome, boasting billions of iridescent stars nestled in a blanket of hazy midnight. A decade of your anticipation has resulted in a circular space, hundreds of plush recliners lining the circumference of the room, and you wonder how many eyes have watched the stars from those seats before you ever had the chance to. When Kei leads you further into the observatory, you step foot onto the north star plastered on the ground in the centre of the room, where nothing but a telescope remains in a ten-foot radius. He takes a spot on the ground, back pressed against the cushioned edge of a seat.

“I figured this is the best spot. Better than any of the seats, actually.” He plants his feet on the ground, bending his knees and spreading them just wide enough for you to sit in between. You cross your legs, wagging them up and down as your hands hold your shins, and he lowers his legs, stretching them out in front of him. Leaning back, your spine hits a spot between his ribs, the same way it did when you were thirteen, and fourteen, and fifteen, staring at stars from the grass of his backyard. You pity the visitors that have yet to discover the simplicity of stargazing from the ground, hands pushed into the ground for stability, dirt and moisture seeping into the fabric of clothing. Pushing further into him, his breathing is heavy against your back, chest rising in rhythmic ups and downs. For what feels like hours, you sit in silence, eyes trained on your fingers that pick and fiddle. At the realisation that you haven’t looked at the stars in years, something bubbles in your stomach, pervasive, relentless. When you finally loll your head backwards to fall on his shoulder, and the tip of Kei’s nose grazes your cheekbone, you wonder how long he has not looked at the stars for as well. 

“Why’d you stop calling?” His sudden question sends a haze rushing into your head.

You swallow thickly. If the passage of time were a sin, you’d burden it with all your explanations. Telling him that now would seem like some lousy excuse.

“It stopped going to your line a year after I left.” You pause, searching for the right words to use amidst the sea of Japanese and English that you must now sort out. “I only stopped trying after another month, the voicemail just said your number was no longer in use.” 

Kei wishes he could dig his fingers into his chest and rip his heart out. If only he hadn’t stupidly broken his phone that night, five years ago during volleyball practice. If only he had checked his pockets before entering the court, just as he has done hundreds of times before. If only he had this, if only he had that, he might just torment himself for the rest of his life. His breath hitches, shoulder freezing rigid. Time does not differentiate between the knowing and oblivious. It slips and leaks beneath the noses of all that it encompasses, and it is but the cautious few that know to grab it, and join in on its journey. He knows now that he is not one of them, not after he’s cursed at the passage of time over and over and over for his own blunder.

“I broke my phone in a game. Got a new one so the number changed as well, fuck me.”

You laugh dryly into the empty observatory. The occasional twinkling of the stars above do nothing to make his explanation any easier. You think you’ll blame it all on doomed fate that you’ve spent five years trying to find somebody that felt the same as Kei did, to no avail. Blame it on cursed luck that you’ve clawed and grabbed at anything familiar enough, archaeology, jazz vinyls, old DVDs of the movie shared between two, all to remind yourself that he too, was once within grasp. You say nothing, because you don’t see a reason to. Instead, you push your head into his neck, drown in the scent of his cologne, ease yourself into his now grown body. You don’t see him wipe a hand across his mouth, then rub his eyes with pinched fingers. 

When Kei decides to speak again, it is what feels like another hour later. He’s readjusted his posture about fifty times by now, arms removed from the ground and draped over your shoulders. The sensation of your hair against his skin is suddenly more prominent than ever when your hands find his own, holding them closer to yourself.

“If I didn’t find you at the grave, would you have looked for me?” His question is heavy, weighing his chest down as the words leave his throat in a hesitant cluster. You turn to look at him, and your eyes linger on his own when you squeeze his hands once, twice, then a third time. 

“I’ve been looking for five years. Nobody else could take me home.” Your heart rushes to your mouth at your confession, and the bob of Kei’s throat does not go unnoticed. One of his hands comes up to hold your shoulder, pushing it towards himself until your body twists, rubbing against his. You let go of him, pressing your fingers into the ground between his legs instead, and he breathes out shakily, his windpipe suddenly cleared of its uncertainty.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes, I am.”

His fingers slide down to grab your wrist, before going numb completely. His unoccupied hand peels itself from the floor and settles on the side of your waist. Your mouth goes dry when Kei breathes, hot and heavy, his eyes travelling to every inch of you. A bout of heat rushes from his chest to his head, and his legs, and his arms too. The air between the two of you is thick, and it sends your head into a feverish blur. The ground collapses beneath your knees as they shift to press into the floor, and you come face to face with Tsukishima Kei, who prefers his hair parted in bangs on the sides of his face, and wears silver frames instead of black ones. Tsukishima Kei, who has been visiting your father’s grave on your behalf for six years, and still plays volleyball even in his adulthood. Tsukishima Kei, whose eyes are finally finished with their ventures across your figure, that is pushed up against him on the ground of an observatory, and is learning whatever he can about you when his fingers tighten around your wrists and he kisses you without a warning. 

Once, at the young, innocent age of seven, Tsukishima Kei kissed you in this museum. You had run a little too fast, stepped on your loose laces and fallen onto the ground face first. You sulked at a bench facing some random painting of melting clocks, red dots scattered across a purple patch right beneath your eye. When he kneeled in front of you to grab your face, and pressed his lips onto the bruise for a fraction of a second, he must have kissed the pain away, mending the leaking capillaries beneath your skin as he separated from your cheeks with a pop. Now, he pulls against your wrists to push himself closer, traps you in the embrace of his legs around the back of your thighs, wheezes and stutters against your lips at the lack of oxygen in his lungs. His head is running in circles instead of straight paths, and everything is spinning. When your hands reach to grab at his shirt, and palm at his chest, he pulls away only to rip his glasses off and toss them to the ground. Beneath the glow of the moon from above, everything but your flushed cheeks and swollen lips is a blur. You take half a breath in, before it is interrupted by Kei’s palms pulling you in by the sides of your neck, and his mouth on yours again. At seven years old, he ripped bruising pain away from your face with a kiss. At twenty-one, he forces his pain, and grief, and regret rushing into your heart by pushing himself against you, fingers tangling themselves into your hair as he kisses you, desperate, almost distressed. Every tug at your lips is a confession left unspoken, every time Kei opens his mouth apologies spill out into you in choked groans and sighs. At the sensation of his hand leaving your neck, your arm searches for him aimlessly, before he’s palming at you through your pants. He swallows your sudden gasp, and your fingers grip his wrist until your knuckles go white. 

“Did you ever like me?” You can do nothing but choke out a question against his lips, one you’ve pondered about, day in and day out, since your departure from Japan.

By the way that Kei nods frantically, you’re certain that this is what six years of separation has amounted to. 

Sparing no time, your fingers tug at the hem of his boxers, pulling them down just enough to release himself from the fabric constraints. He does the same, hands roaming until they find the waistband of your pants to push them down, fingers tugging your underwear to the side with a flick. He grabs you by the waist beneath your shirt, yanks your body towards him until something feels right and he can’t help but let out a trembling sigh into your shoulder. And when you finally begin to sink yourself onto him, agonisingly slow, you wish that you had never left Japan in the first place. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you wish that you could spend the rest of your life in this observatory with Kei, your hands wrapped around the back of his sweat-slicked neck. 

When he pulls you down to push further, more pervasively, you fall into him, head hanging over his shoulder and arms squeezing around his neck. His inexperienced hands rock you back and forth against his hips, pulling a flurry of gasps and moans from your throat. He lets himself learn how you taste when his teeth tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it down to expose your bare shoulder. His lips latch onto your collarbone, biting and sucking a trail of red marks up to the side of your neck. You shudder at his advances, and he studies the way your walls flutter around him, the erratic pulses that draw stars around his head, how your nails dig into his shoulders, and send his mind into a senseless orbit. 

When he pushes and pulls at you a little harder, you whimper his name into his ear, reduced to nothing but a babbling mess that nibbles at his neck and kisses up his jaw feverishly. First friend, first kiss, first love. The notion that this is another first that Tsukishima Kei has brought upon you sends your mind spiralling. He should have been your first prom date, first roommate, first dance too. If only you hadn’t left him first. You push your head off his shoulder, hands moving to hold his face instead. A wave of pleasure washes over you when his palm presses against your stomach, and you hang your head low again, a shaky sigh released from your chest. 

When you look up, there are tears in Kei’s eyes. He rolls his head back onto the plush seat behind him, hands lifting you off himself fully, just to push you back onto him again. You collapse into his body, palms pressing against his heaving chest. 

“I- fuck! I fucking loved you! I still do!” He speaks it into the glass ceiling as one hand reaches for his face. He wipes his palm across his eyes, only for more tears to form. They are uncontrollable, relentless as he turns his head away from you. He isn’t sure how he will live again tomorrow, not when he’s finally come to a reckoning with the pang in his chest at every thought of you. He thinks he could die the second you step onto that flight back to London, ripped away from him once again. The reality that he cannot stay buried inside you for any longer than the next couple of minutes haunts him to no end, the idea of being separated from you a second time unbearable to even imagine. When he turns back to see you, head on his chest and fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, he decides that reality can wait until he’s finished with you. 

“I love you too- shit, Kei! I never stopped!”

You rut against his hips senselessly now, chasing some unfamiliar high as your vision fades to black and you scream his name until your throat goes hoarse. Kei barely gives you time to breathe, before he’s coming undone from right beneath you, shuddering and groaning as you relax against his body and go limp. He holds you against him, one hand pushing your head against his chest and the other wrapped around your back. He tucks your damp hair behind your ears, places kisses along your temple so he can hear the hums of satisfaction that sound from your curled lips. 

“Can you stay forever?” He mumbles into your hair, and you turn to press your ear against his chest. His heart pounds as he pushes his cheek into the crown of your head, and your hands crawl up his chest to wrap around his neck. When he looks up through the glass ceiling, the stars have not moved one bit.

“I’ll find you again, wherever you are.”

Time may slip away from Tsukishima Kei like petals that fall off the buds of flowers, water that seeps beneath the soles of his sneakers, stardust that hovers above the atmosphere. Yet he has learned that it has a way of always coming back to remind him of its presence, and its escape. You are the reminder that it has been sending to him for six years.

author's note:

ERM! never writing nsfw again that's for sure but this piece defs had some stuff that i was very, VERY proud of coming up with!! sorry to my minor moots who probably won't read this in its entirety bc of the big MDNI warning... but I honestly don't know how to feel about this piece as a whole... i was super excited to write it but i think i got a little impatient towards the end esp since im always writing at like 3am LOL but i hope you guys liked it anyways!!! i tried really hard to make the dynamic work and i hope it did!!!!!

also ps they exchange numbers again js a little extra bonus that i didn’t get to put into the actual thing

anyways tags!!

@staraxiaa @chuuya-brainrot @akaakeis @laughingfcx @writingsofanomnivore @t0rchknight @bailey-reeds @wyrcan @hiraethwa @fiannee @catsoupki @anonymity-222 @wishi-selfships @kuroppiii

ok love u guys thank u for being patient

[alixmarauders]

Ah hello~ :3 I heard you were looking for requests and uh I got an idea but its Remus x reader :"3 if that's alright?

So the idea is... Remus has this chocolate thing right? And he knows everyone's favorite chocolates... But no one knows his. Reader (who is a Ravenclaw) observes him and realizes what his favorite flavor is :3. So she first tries it by leaving a stash of it on his book in the library one day to which Remus LOVES. Then... Idk you do the rest 😅 I want them to interact in the end tho 🤧 like he discovers or like she gets caught dunno aha

Pomegranate chocolate | Remus Lupin x reader

LOVED this idea had to start writing as soon as I could, hope you enjoy this’

fluff

You had always had a crush on Remus. While everyone seemed to be lusting over Sirius’s bad boy vibe, or falling for James’s outgoing behaviour, you had always found Remus’s calmness endeavouring and kind of intimidating at the same time.

You never were the one to initiate things, could barely speak to people you didn’t know, but this time, you wished you could. You wished you could just tap Remus’s shoulder and introduce yourself like every other girl in Hogwarts did. You wished you could have his attention, even for just a few seconds, even if it meant being made fun of. But you couldn’t.

So, you kept on watching him like a stalker. You knew that it was creepy, and kind of out of character for you, but having a crush on the same person for three years straight makes you do crazy things. You knew his favourite book because he always seemed to read it in the library, at least once a month. You knew his favourite classes and his least favourite ones by noticing if he was there or if he was skipping them to go smoking in the astronomy tower. You knew his favourite chocolate, of course, and you noticed that it had been a while since he last bought it. Every time he went to Honeydukes, he came back with his friends’ favourite chocolates, never his, and it seemed quite sad.

That explained why you were now standing in front of the cashier, three stashes of pomegranate dark chocolate piled in your hands, sheepishly handing them over, your face the one of a thief who had just been caught.

You didn’t even know what to do with them, you didn’t know Remus, you couldn’t just come up to him with his favourite type of chocolate like a desperate schoolgirl, begging for attention. You just knew you wanted him to be happy, you wanted to see the scars above his lip crinkle, his eyes light up, and that cute little dimple showing, knowing it was you who made him that happy.

You walked back to the library, bag secured, and looked inside from shelving unit. It was then that you spotted Remus leaving, probably going to smoke, as he always did. You looked around: no one was there, it was Saturday night, after all. Slowly, you got up from your hiding spot, positioning the chocolate on his book; you didn’t stop at that, though: you picked up one of his pens and draw a little heart on a piece of paper, positioning it right above the sweet treat.

You weren’t  stupid, you knew he couldn’t know it was you who draw that heart, still you wanted to accompany the gift with some type of card. You decided to go back to your dorm, staying in your hiding spot would have been to risky.

What you didn’t see was Remus reaction to your little surprise. As soon as he saw the little heart, immediately knew it was you, his little obsession. He smiled down at the gift, finally you were showing him some interest. He had been making everything in his power to get you to like him back: looking at you in class just to see your cheeks becoming the sweetest shade of red, spotting you on the bleachers during practice only to use the hem of his jersey to wipe his face, showing his six pack. His heart swelled: he was going to make you his sooner than he expected. A plan slowly started to take form in his head.

After a week, you still had two other boxes to give to Remus. You decided to leave one of them in front of his locker during Quidditch practice, and the other one on his desk right before potions. Every time you gave him the sweet treat, you always draw an heart on the box, just so he knew that it was the same person who decided to gift him his favourite candy.

When he came back from his smoking break, you watched as he looked down at his desk, his face lighting up as he saw the chocolates, making your lips curl into a little grin. What you didn’t expect, though, was for him to be looking around, spotting you. In mere seconds you had become redder than the sweetest cherry, you looked down, praying he didn’t see your reddened cheeks from across the room, sprinting once the bell rang.

You decided to spend your day in your dorm room, too afraid of running into him. Sure, he couldn’t be knowing that you had a massive crush on him, right? You had been so careful, he couldn’t have seen you. You heard a knock on the door, and as you went to open it, right under your eyes were five boxes of white raspberry chocolate, your favourite.

No one had ever gifted you anything before, and no one knew your taste in chocolate, so that left you kind of surprised.

You gasped loudly, and then you saw Remus coming out from a corner, making you nearly faint.

“I know what you did” He was smirking down at you, the height difference making you feel even more powerless. You decided to play it off.

“And what did I do now, Lupin?” He chuckled, one of his hands coming to cup your cheek, making your false bravado fall as fast as it came.

“You gifted me chocolate. Three boxes, to be more specific. Always with those little cute hearts. My favourite type of chocolate, no one knows what my favourite type of chocolate is, but you do. My smart girl” He was staring into your eyes, his hand preventing you from looking away, even if you wanted to. “My question is, why?”

“Could ask you the same question, Lupin. No one knows my favourite type of chocolate, either.” He chuckled.

“I know why I did it. I really like you, Y/N, have been sporting a massive crush on you for a while. Are you insinuating that you feel the same about me?”

Your mouth opened, you widened your eyes. He was kidding you, this must have been a joke. “I- Is this some type of marauder prank? Because I’m not falling for it, Lupin, take your spiked chocolate away from me” 

“You’re so cute when you get mad” He caressed your cheek with his thumb, his face now dangerously close to yours. “I mean what I said, you know that?” He whispered, right above your lips.

“How did you know it was me, though?”

He smiled. “You always draw those little hearts on your books while you read them. Been observing you for a while now, I could swear there isn’t one of your books who has blank margins.”

Your heart swelled. The idea that he had been as obsessed with you as you were with him making you dizzy. You reached up for his collar, pulling him close to you, pecking his lips. He groaned loudly, his hands gripping your hips as he devoured your mouth, while you reciprocated the kiss with as much fervour.

After a while, you took a big breath, pulling away from the kiss. He licked his lips, making you blush once again. “So, Friday night at Hogsmade? How does that sound?”

“Good” You pulled him once again close to you, afraid he would vanish in thin air if you didn’t.

tag list: @sxmnc

[aftgficrec]

My Personal Favorite Fics EVER!! All Neil/Andrew

I hope I am doing this right! I just hit the share button on my bookmarked fics. Idk if any of these have been on here before (I have read a lot of fics and it gets confusing to know which ones I found on here bc there are so many good recommendations, or ones I found on my own. But these are 3 of my favorite fics that I feel like are the most well done!

• Everything's Alright by DarkD: This fic is unfinished but so worth the read!! It is a soulmates au, and in it Neil and Andrew are looking out for eachother since they are 6 and 7 years old. It completely changes their dynamic but manages to keep the characters realistic. I love the direction it was going, I hope the author finishes it, but even if they don’t what they have written so far is worth the read.

• If I Knew You by AceSirenSinger: This fic is soooo amazing!! It was posed pretty recently (starting January 2024 and finishing in May) and It shows a different direction with Aaron and Andrew’s bonding, and different reasons for them having problems with each other. It features writer/author Andrew and Law Student turned police officer Aaron. The writing is so high quality and it is a completely finished fic!! The writing to show the writing of the book Andrew has written alone is impressive enough to get you to read it. I love it so much, it also gives a more realistic approach to Neil’s life and trauma as well as gives you more of a perspective on the problems of Aaron’s life. (Even tho it’s an au and doesn’t show his life during AFTG)

• Deep blue ( but you painted me golden ) by Jeaneil_22: This fic is not finished but completely captivated my attention when I saw it. I was surprised I had not read it before (because I am obsessed with Raven Neil fics, and this is one of them) but then I realized it was posted within the last year or so. It’s completely underrated. It does have a lot of hits but the kudos count not being in the thousands is a crime against humanity. The realistic take on. Neil’s trauma and different things going on as he is still connected very heavily to the Moriyama’s is sooo interesting. And if you are looking for a fic where Neil is a victim of SA/Rape this fic is also a good one for you. (Though it does have a lot of trauma so mind the tags) I know a lot of people are looking for fics like that tho and it’s hard to find bc there is so much SA trauma in AFTG 😔

Thanks for the recs and for sharing your thoughts on the fics! Readers, all of these stories lean toward the darkest themes of AFTG. -A

Everything's Alright by DarkD [Rated E, 182901 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2023]

Previously recced here

Souls weren't meant to be left alone, so they split, always looking for their other half. No matter how long it took, the moment a soul existed, it sought the one that would complete it. The main indication is, when one of the halves of the soul turns seven years old, an identical mark appears on both parts. Along with that comes a set of unique abilities that soulmates can only use with each other—for protection, for finding each other. Soulmates would never be alone.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: child abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: gun violence, tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: murder, tw: canonical character death

If I Knew You by AceSirenSinger [Rated T, 43145 Words, Complete, 2024]

Previously featured in this long andreil + aaron angst ask, our staff recs writers post, and as a random rec

Neil is imprisoned at sixteen years old for being the Butcher of Baltimore. Andrew obsesses, and Aaron obsesses because Andrew does, and everything goes wrong and raw and painful. Feat. the twinyards breaking each other’s hearts, and a decent amount of shade on the American justice system.

tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced violence, tw: implied/referenced torture

​​Deep blue ( but you painted me golden ) by Jeaneil_22 [Rated M, 163298 Words, Incomplete, Updated Sept 2024]

After the horrific incident that happened in the nest and the sound of Kevin crying, Nathaneil made the hard call and bargained with his life to get Jean and Kevin out, having no slight idea about the storm that was heading his way And after being missing for two years, Jean and Kevin swallowed the hard truth that Nathaneil might be dead somewhere To their surprise one day he appears out of the blue looking so much like their brother but nothing like Nathaneil at all Or Nathniel went on the run with his mother when he was 9 years old but three years later Nathan caught up to them and threw Nathaneil in the nest So we can say some things went a bit different .

NB: playlist for this fic

tw: dark, tw: gang rape, tw: dubcon, tw: human trafficking, tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: assault, tw: flashbacks, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: abuse and torture, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: medication addiction and withdrawal, tw: recreational drug use, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: vomit, tw: homophobia, tw: canonical character death

[nabaath-areng]

Sometimes I think to myself "actually maybe I'm exaggerating the terror I felt from being stalked", but then I remember that the person in question followed me and waited for me outside my school every day, tracked me down on every website I'd spent even the slightest time on, left physical letters in my mailbox, sent creepy as hell novel length messages on a near daily basis on FB. And then when I was living abroad and I answered the phone I told the caller to text me cause I couldn't hear, after which I had to read "I was saying that you would probably be VERY scared if you knew who's calling... hehe" with my own damn fucking eyes...

And then I'm like yknow what nevermind!!!! the fact that I'm still terrified of being perceived and seen in public not just IRL but also FFXIV might be understandable actually!!!

[tsukagari]

M!ik 365 spoilers

They are slicing my slice of life!! TnT

The last week I was talking with a classmate about how I was suffering in this arc, and joking around about the fact that (at least on the page I read it), it is marked as a slice of life and comedy, so even if the things seem bad we will get a pretty good funny solution, and I was right...

Until this mind-blowing chapter, when OMG apparently the classic "we have a power system to show the characters strong and evolution:D" goes all the way around and becomes the " having a power system affect the opportunities you have when your abilities don't match with the traditional power and your autonomy is basically nonexistent"

And I mean, it was shown prior with all the "first year cultural festival arc" and with kirio-sempai, but I feel that since it elapsed in the school, where is a controlled environment with profesors and the students council in charge to "control" most of the "bulling" and, more important, the fact that the students are there for learning and are capable to still upgrade their ranks, where you have the tools to improve and people who can provide help, it makes it feel more like a "honor roll" situation

And, even if the low rank situation is presented at the beginning of the arc again, we were more centered on how to make things work and Nova's motivations, so we don't truly understand the situation (?

Sooo seeing how it affects the outside world where your rank defines the rights you have, the food chain system in the netherworld (where you know narnia's argument makes me think about all the rich vs. Poor bullshit system where we live where the government protects more billionaire companies than the citizens) it's just shocking

Like I have knowledge of the world building, but I don't seem to see it before now (?

And the worst part is that the same situation is happening in real life every day and everywhere, and even then, every day we just don't care enough about it

And even if we care, we don't have even half of the tools or support iruma have

Idk it's a little catatonic

[thebearme]

Here's my Parappa hcs and reimagine ideas for Matt & Paula

Sunny

Sunny is a cosmo flower like her mother.

Because of her mother's recent death, her dad Potter became UBER PROTECTIVE. The classic "ur the last thing of her, I have to protect you" you know.

Unrelated thing but idk when I'll ever talk about this guy but Potter HAS to be half object head, the only plant thing apart of him is his hair. idk maybe yall can figure it out... also i think he gave birth to sunny and no i will not elaborate.

Sunny is asexual and intersex but what do you expect, she's a plant.

She got all her arm strength from her dad. All those home military drills really helped.

She's superb at skateboarding but tends to not do so beings she doesn't want to get her dress ruin. But give her time to change, and she'll start shreddin.

Sunny has Bipolar disorder type 1.

Sunny grew up a lil sheltered. She lives in the middle of the woods and only goes into town for groceries! She started going out more and more when she started school for the first time, especially after she got some friends.

I'm taking this headcanon from the fic life in parappa town and expanding it but Sunny is in this plant belief system where you stay loyal to Mothernature and when you die you'll become a part of her. She doesn't eat meat, she gives back to nature and be kind to all Mothernature's creatures.

Sunny take cares and own her mother's "small" farm. She used to give her produce to the community for free, but because of the government finding out about that, she had to put it on pause. She either sells it for big money, or the government will take her land and profit from it them self.

Parappa

Parappa is his rap name. His name is Pa and his nickname is Pappy.

He's a bagel and hound mix, but has more bagel dog tendencies.

He's hat was bought by his mom before she left.

Parappa's mom divorce her husband after one too many financial crises, just when Parappa was just graduated high school. (explaining the past tense in PtR2) Leaving Pappy with Papa Rappa while she takes care of Pinto herself.

His Mama always encouraged Parappa to reach his dreams as long it wasn't expensive. So after everything, Parappa was more determined than ever to believe in himself and never give up.

Parappa would do anything for Sunny, he would kill Joe Chin even!

After a while working at the videogame shop, Parappa will later work for Master Onion cuz at least he pays him.

Parappa has the n card cuz he's cool like that. im tired of hearing 'who gave him the n card?' well maybe he just born with it. stop judging my dog bro

Parappa's rapping career just recently started. He began rapping his poems by the end of high school, luckily for him his best friend has connections to get him up there.

He grew up with classic 80s-90s rap. Pappy is an oldhead.

Pappy is anti-drug, anti-gun rights and a BIG ACAB. He is a huge believer that 'only community can fix the issues and not some cops that with guns trying to make the problem worst' but if you listen to parappa's album you've probly already saw this coming.

He still an up-and-coming artist, eventho he's known around the town and performed with Club fun's mc twice... he just started selling his first album.

Pappy is pretty smart and could have got into a science major like his dad but choose music instead. His father wept.

Parappa guessed that Katy is lesbian years before she started dating Lammy because the god awful dates she would go on.

Parappa loves frogs, they're his favorite animal.

He has a concentration issue, dude can't stay on track for the life of him. And no he doesn't know he has ADHD.

His ass has maladaptive daydreamer.

Boxy boy was made for Parappa by his dad because of tendency to daydream everywhere and anywhere, he gives him sense.

Pappy has a stuttering and lisp problem, but it adds an interesting element to his raps.

Pappy can NOT keep a secret. He WILL tell Sunny!

He got orange hair

Pj

Pj or further known as King Berri is still the same as always, maybe a lil more tired.

He uses king as a stage name so he can have a bit of his fantasy come true.

Eats weed brownie everyday.

Pj now wears a hooding for pure comforter, it like wearing sleepingbag at all times.

Pj seems very comfortable with his life but he really just compliant.

Pj is estranged from his family. They have not talked in years and he doesn't plan on changing that.

Just like everyone, Pj doesn't hate being a dj but just hate working. All the fun he had for his craft was gone a long time ago. But if he still gets paid by his boss MC Mushi and gets his 'stuff' then his fine.

Pj is brutally honest to Parappa like always, someone got to be the straight man in the friendship.

He's the most likely in the friendship to get the other in trouble.

Pj lives in the college housing, particularly in the basement. He just likes it down there. But funny enough, it turns out the house doesn't stay as empty as what the staff said it would be.

He's roommate is Matt. He's not that bad when you get to know him, He's just a bit snobby, know-it-all and WAY to competitive... but chill? Ok he's a Chin but hey, atleast he's better then Joe.

Him and Matt met one rainy day when the power went out and Matt got jumpedscared but the bear in the basement.

Katy

Chatty Katty was her nickname back in high school and even in the college campus right now. She gets this nickname not because she talks bad of anyone, honestly the opposite. She talks up everyone she knows! Right after talking up herself.

Katy was a church goer growing up, so no duh she'll know everyone in the community.

Her and Pappy were in the church choir growing up, that's how they met. Later she got introduced Pj in school, the three of them started hanging out after that.

Parappa gives the biggest little brother vibe to Katy.

Katy has the vocabulary of a old lady and it's because of the older lady she works with at the diner.

Katy is that friend that went on so many bad dates, tells you about and it makes you think HOW the hell are you still dating men??

She met Lammy after running into each other from the college lecture hall. And she immediately invited her to the milkcan band practice.

Lammy and Katy were a will-they-won't-they thing then they met. Lammy likes Katy but doesn't think she would like her, Katy likes Lammy but doesn't think she's likes women so she continues going for men.

Katy has been going to church less as she goes into college, jobs, dates, band practice and battling the gay thoughts. oooo scary

Katy and Sunny met in middle school, Katy never liked the idea of girls tearing each other down. And Katy was right, Sunny was sweet as she thought.

Katy introduced Sunny to the boys and everyone went nicely, they shared lunch together.

Paula

Paula is base off a kit fox, she just put makeup over her facial mark.

She's got abit of rewrite; She's from a new money household but unlike her parents that fell into complete greed, She's still her old self.

Paula is a tomboy at heart and her true love is basketball and women.

She's a business major oooo. AND the captain of the basketball team.

She still beefing with Katy but you know- it's a friendly rivalry. Or at least it becomes one.

Paula has a little crush on Sunny after meeting her but she's very respectful about it and very real told anyone about it... besides Katy... who told Pj... who told Matt... who told Parappa... who told Sunny. But otherwise Paula got turned down rather nicely and took it well.

Matt

Matt and Joe are doodles, partially a cockapoo.

He is the younger brother of Joe Chin and makes it his LIFE GOAL to be Parappa's rival.

He bascally bradley for the extremely goofy movie.

Matt has a big gay crush on Pappy but he refuse to admit!

Joe Chin got to inherit the family business without even doing anything and Matt is really mad about that. So he's in school for a business degree and in the frat club for extra bonus points. All to impress his parents and get the family business instead.

Ok not related to Matt hcs but just one thing- I think Joe Chin is a womanizer manipulative creep! That's why Matt is a funny villain while Joe is a flatout villain villain.

There more hcs in the bottom but I didn't feel comfortable putting up with more of the light hearted stuff so...

darker things below, read with caution.

[its-starlight-farm]

Personal Harvey Headcannons

I’m totally not stalling my Maya and Maria stuff

Harvey Davis (idk it just felt right as a last name)

6’2 tall but not too tall. (Still towers over Maya’s short self though)

36 years old (I know some make him older some make him younger but for me it’s a perfect middle ground)

I made a poll recently about this but I have been convinced of the idea of his eyes being Hazel instead of just green or just brown.

Grandfather was a pilot and that’s where his dream of becoming one came from.

Loves to make medical puns

I think he can flirt for sure he just gets completely nervous and overthinks it afterwards

Definitely gained his addiction to coffee in college

SHE trio of course, I see them as like drinking buddies (makes me cry to see on the wiki he just has no relationships give my boy some friends 😭)

I feel like he’s definitely the kind of guy that won’t shut up about his spouse

I’m gonna say it, I think he has a good singing voice. Humming along to his jazz music or singing in the shower (if he isn’t exhausted from work)

Apologizes too much, once apologized to the door when bumping into it.

[idontplaytrack]

Rejanis angst? Breakup?

With “party favor” by Billie Eilish as like inspo? Idk lol

Party favor

Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George

Warnings: angst, coarse language, some descriptions of smut, self-harm, implied eating disorders & some mentions

"It's not you, it's me and all that other bullshit You know that's bullshit, don't you, babe? I'm not your party favor."

"Oh, my God. I am sick of you being-"

"Oh, are you, now? You're sick of me? Is that what your attitude lately meant?"

"You're not letting me finish my sentences."

Regina responded through gritted teeth.

"Like what you want to say would be any better." Janis scoffed.

“As I was saying,” Regina continues, “I am sick of you being so paranoid! What the fuck, honestly.”

“What the fuck is right.” Janis lets out a dry chuckle, “What the fuck is my life right now? What the fuck kind of life have I been living?”

“I told you, you need to start taking care of yourself, otherwise—”

“What, Regina, what?” Janis snapped, “You’re gonna force feed me? Commit me? You’re the last person that should be telling me what to do. All those things already happened. You really—”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“Fuck you.” Janis spat, “I was there for you in the hospital when they took you there against your will. I visited you when no one else did, all while trying to make it through college. And now you’re just going to do this? You know what? I hear you, just leave. We don’t have to see each other ever again, anywhere. Fucking leave! Why are you still standing there? You left me once, I’m very sure you’ll have no problem at all doing that again.”

“I told you, Alex was a one-night stand.” Regina sighs.

“No.” Janis answered, “No. I’ve had enough of pain from you, I am not setting myself up for a round three. I don’t want anything! To do with you ever again. I am who I am because of you! You don’t get to shove that excuse in my face when you cheated on me.”

“I was drunk!”

“So drunk you could forget your girlfriend of a whole year? So drunk that you forgot someone you saw at least twice a week? I travelled from here to Connecticut for you without fail. The least you could do is be honest with me.”

Regina trembled in shock seeing and hearing Janis screaming like that. But then a feeling of sadness, and anger and guilt all washed over her at once. But, the blonde turned and faced the front door, swallowing the painful lump in her throat. But she still doesn’t leave somehow. 

“Even after such a clear mistake, you still have to be right. I saw you that night in that bar in Queens. I know how you’re like when you’re drunk. You weren’t drunk that night — so don’t bother. I am not someone you can just use and toss. I am not someone you can call just because you need me but when I needed you, you couldn’t do the same for me. You always make up excuses! When have you been honest with me since the name-calling started? A leopard never changes its spots, Gina. I really should’ve known better, you are a motherfucking bitch that deserves nothing for everyone you’ve hurt and treated like collateral damage along the way. Go fuck yourself.” 

————

“You lit her backpack on fire?!” Mrs. ‘Imi’ike screamed at Janis. 

“She was making fun of me! She’s been making fun of me for months! So has the rest of the school, Mom!”

“So, someone calls you a name, you take a Bunsen burner and torched someone’s bag?”

“A name?” Janis scoffed, “She called me an obsessed lesbian. She outed me, she humiliated me. She made my life hell.”

“You should not have done that.” 

“Sandra.” Her dad interjected, “No. Janis wouldn’t have done something like that for no good reason.”

“We raised you better than this.”

“You raised me to stand up for myself. I’ve been nothing but tolerant of all sorts of nasty names and insults thrown in my face. I couldn’t take it anymore, I cannot face anyone in that school anymore. I’m done.”

“Ben, she committed a violent act.” Sandra turned to face her husband.

“Do you hear what she’s been saying, Sandra? Our daughter was bullied for months and we had no clue. We failed to protect her, we failed to help her. This isn’t her fault.”

~~~~~

She had the blade in her hand, her eyes closely looking at it, then her wrist. Her hand was shaking, she was terrified. But her fear of her ex-best friend overpowered the fear of her own actions. The metal slides across her tender skin, bright red droplets trickled out from the cut. Janis took a sharp inhale, chewing on her lower lip to keep from making any noise. In that moment, the noise in her head was silenced and replaced by white hot searing pain from the self-inflicted injury. It worked, she wasn’t thinking about the names, about the snickering, about Regina. But actual physical pain that she could control. 

~~~~~

“We can’t afford to homeschool you, Janis. We have to work.” Ben apologised.

“I know.” Janis fiddled with her thumbs as a force of habit.

“Go grab something to eat then we’ll be on your way to your therapy session.” Ben nudged.

“Okay.” Janis nodded, feeling somewhat defeated. She knew her parents were doing the best they could, but just maybe…her Mom was still just a little mad and would rather be at work than be at home with her. Well, her Dad’s been the only one taking her to and fro therapy and home— Janis had been kicked out of school for the remainder of the year. 

This incident strained the mother and daughter’s relationship but it was almost inevitable. That’s just how Sandra’s been like for as long as she could remember. She wasn’t too flexible. Or open-minded. 

Janis had been going to therapy for three weeks now. That meant six sessions. And she’s cried every time. It was liberating, helpful but also left her a little tired. And a little headache. So that annoyed her a bit but she felt somewhat better and was making progress. 

“Janis, I’ll see you Tuesday.” 

“See you, Joan.” Janis gave the older woman a tight-lipped smile as she chewed on her dry lips, leaving the dimly lit office. 

“Tuesday.” Joan reminded.

“I’ll be here.” Janis answered. 

Pushing the creaky metal door, Janis steps out onto the front steps of the building, the summer heat torching her skin. She squints to be able to see clearly, the sun overhead hurting her eyes. Janis then sees her Dad driving up to the pickup point in the family car. Janis swiftly skipped down the steps and got into the vehicle, wanting to escape the sweltering heat. 

“Hi, ladybug.” Ben smiled, “Do you wanna go for some froyo?”

“Maybe after the next session.” Janis smiled back apologetically, sniffling, “Today’s session really took it out of me. I kinda just want to go home and nap.”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded in understanding as he began their drive home. 

They got home, Janis took a shower and took a nap. And while Sandra was at work, Ben took the time to make the family dinner tonight. He’d already taken the day off work to keep Janis company after all.

~~~~~

Ben dropped Janis and Damian off at the mall for a movie and a lunch at the food court. The pair hadn’t seen each other in awhile, since Janis had to get used to therapy and being medicated. Nearing the end of summer, everything started to calm down, gaining a new sense of normalcy. 

Just like always, Damian cracked her up. Made her laugh until her stomach hurt. Something she’d missed so much since what happened with Regina. 

“So no homeschool?”

“One of them has to work at least. Dad’s job pays more so my mom wants him to keep at it but my mom’s…my mom. She doesn’t think mental health is a thing. So even though I have the therapist’s memos and shit, she doesn’t want to accept it.” 

“It’ll be okay. I’ll catch you up, the school will know too. I’ll make sure they do.” Damian assured. 

“Thanks, Damian.”  Janis genuinely smiled as she held her milkshake straw between two fingers and gave it a stir.

“Hey, I got your back, okay. You know that. Everyday, since two thousand and nine.”

~~~~~

Janis was doing so well, she really, really was. Until she wasn’t. Two weeks before the new school year started, Janis ran into Regina and Karen at a bookstore. A bookstore out of all places. The blonde sneered at Janis, all while her dad was barely five feet away. The guy definitely saw it and shot the duo a warning glare. The tall blonde only scoffed and smirked, tossed her hair then continued browsing. But not before she purposely walked closer to Janis to try and shove her out of the way. Even an idiot could see that there was a huge space between them at first. “That is enough. What you did to my daughter is unacceptable.”

“Aw, look. Daddy’s little girl needs her daddy to protect her, fight her battles for her.” Regina laughed.

“Let’s go, Daddy.” Janis tugged on his arm. He quickly took her and left without buying anything even though he’d promised Janis a new storybook for all the progress she’s made recently. 

“Ignore her, hm? How about a donut?” 

“No, thanks.” Janis declined.

“A smoothie?” Ben asked hopefully. 

She says no to that, too but they continued their way around the mall for awhile. Janis now knew better than to focus on what put her in a bad mood. “Daddy, maybe we could get some dinner before we go home.” Janis suggested, “Mom’s not in town anyway.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Ben smiled, relieved, “What do you feel like having for dinner?” 

The father and daughter wound up at the food court, enjoying their orange chicken and fried rice then a blizzard each from Dairy Queen to wash it down. By the time they were on their drive home, Janis had forgotten entirely what upset her.

~~~~~

“Why do you think she kissed you?”

“Don’t know, to get a reaction out of Kyle? And me?”

“Alright, but why?” Joan prompted.

“She’s crazy, I don’t know, Joan. I don’t know why my best friend of six years one day decided to pull this stunt and not be the person I knew anymore.”

“How did Kyle react?”

“He— he cheered. He was happy to see us kiss. It was disgusting, he told us to kiss again. Regina almost leaned in for another, I pushed her away and ran out of her house. Gretchen came out to the curb to check on me but I wasn’t having it— she and Regina had gotten close those last few weeks. Regina had not been talking to me as much at that point but this sleepover was a weekly thing and she wanted me there as usual so I went then it happened and changed everything. I knew Gretchen really was worried about me, that’s never changed about her. She’s always been nice.”

“How did you feel when you kissed her?”

“Um—” Janis stopped bouncing her leg, “I…I liked it. Because— I actually, I caught feelings for her over time. But I never told her, I never had the chance to.”

“And how’d that make you feel?”

“Heartbroken. Angry. Like I want to strangle her for saying that I only let her kiss me because I was obsessed with her.” Janis answered, “I really cared about her, I cherished her. I didn’t want to tell her until I was sure she felt the same way. Or maybe I was never going to say anything because I was too scared it would change things between the two of us. Joan…I felt safe with her, then my whole world as I knew it got…wrecked in the matter of minutes.”

“Janis, what do you think caused her to change?”

“She got a boyfriend, I don’t know. Regina George only cares about herself now. Everyone else is like dirt on the ground to her. She saw me at the bookstore and shoved past me even though there was tons of space.”

“It might be deeper than that.”

“How so?”

“Based on what you’ve been telling me, and given how much time you’ve spent together with Regina, she’s never met Kyle before that sleepover and declared him to be her boyfriend.”

“Yeah, well Kyle’s a new kid— oh.”

“I think, she might’ve done what she did because she was trying to avoid admitting to herself that she acknowledged a change in herself when you came out to her.”

“A change…?”

“The feelings, that you had for her. Could be mutual. She just isn’t ready to come to terms with it.” Joan revealed, “I see this quite a bit even just in a week. But, be that as it may, her outing you and publicly humiliating you was not the way to go.”

“Yeah no shit.” Janis chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Janis, what do you do in your free time?”

“You mean everyday? I got kicked out because I finally retaliated, remember?” Janis laughs. 

“Well, I remember. But I was just thinking maybe picking up a new hobby or two that you can focus on, that you really enjoy and immerse yourself in.”

“Well, I like art so I’ve been sketching and painting a whole lot more over the summer since I naturally have a lot of free time on my hands.”

“Good.” Joan nodded, “Make use of art, channel your emotions into your pieces. I could help you work through some of it without you actively realising. I know the sessions sometimes take a lot out of you, you feel a lot in the 45 minutes. Very intensely. Art could let you have an outlet to release those emotions and thoughts. On top of the methods we’ve began to discuss, that is.”

Janis gave the lady a solemn nod, “I will. I’ll stick to it. Um, running into Regina that day upset me. I wish I hadn’t seen her because I was doing so well.”

“The thing about healing and recovery is that it takes time. And it’s never really linear all the time. These encounters are bumps in the road, little dips in the chart.” Joan explained, “How you respond and move forward from them is what matters. And what tells you where you are in your progress.”

“Me and my dad, we left the bookstore and we carried on walking around the mall. He offered to buy me a donut, a smoothie— declined. Didn’t feel like it because in that moment I just lost my appetite.” Janis began, “But then we just kept walking and window shopping, and the…encounter was tossed to the back of my mind, I could pretty quickly focus on what was in front of me instead of what’s already happened.”

“See? That’s great, that’s progress. Improvement. It will take time, but with the effort you’ve been putting in, you’ve got it.”

~~~~~

“What?” Damian glares at the blonde. “What the hell did you just say to me?”

“I said you were stupid. Stupid for believing her. She’s clearly doing all of this for attention.”

“I think you are. You put on that damn show asking if you could kiss her. You are one messed up person.”

Regina raised her brows, the smirk never leaving her face. “What am I doing, Damian? Straight A’s, I look put together, great friends. Meanwhile she looks like she just rolled out of bed and came to school.”“You? Straight A’s. Don’t go lying to yourself, Regina. That’s very stupid of you. Keep her name out of your mouth while you’re at it. You’ve decided to let her go, so do that. Otherwise, you’re like, the one obsessed with her or something.”

Janis’ hatred for the girl only grew with each passing day. The sight of her made her sick, and also made her want to punch the wall. But she wasn’t going to damage school property and let herself be the one getting into trouble. Not again. Regina George wasn’t worth it. Damian was right— she’d decided to let her go, so Janis should be treating Regina as if she didn’t exist. As if she was invisible. 

~~~~~

“I made a mistake.” Janis revealed as she sunk into the armchair, “I was six weeks clean. Six weeks. But last night I spiralled and it happened again”

“We talked about this, picking yourself back up and moving forward is the way to go. Take care of it, get it cleaned and bandaged because we don’t want infections. But you recognise this action, you know not to dwell on it. You have the ways— other ways to help you work through the urge.”

“I wasted my effort. This was the longest I’ve ever gone without doing that.”

“No, no effort was wasted.” Joan disagreed, “Janis, would you have talked to me about this if it was even just a month ago? Would you have successfully calmed yourself down and called me to tell me you needed to see me sooner?” 

“No?”

“Precisely.” Joan continued, “That, you making that call to me, to tell me what you needed was a result of your effort, you know what’s good for you, what can help you after a mistake, after a little slip on your journey. Remember that, be proud of that, the little wins. One by one, they’ll add up and become a major change in your life. A good change.”

~~~~~

“Move your fat ass out of the way, ‘Imi’ike.” Regina snarled.

Janis stiffens, scurrying out of the way, her back pressed up against the lockers as she stared at the ground when Regina and her posse walked by.  

Again, there was plenty of space around them. Janis just got startled, and reacted. She’d already had a rough morning hearing her parents get into it, fighting about her. “Either you eat faster and go on your way to school, or don’t eat at all.” Her mom bellowed irritatedly. Janis jumped, scared. Sighing, she scraped her plate and left it in the sink then promptly left the house. Her Dad caught up and drove her to school. “Get breakfast when you arrive in school, okay? It’s still early.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

The rest of the ride was silent with the exception of the radio playing in the background. It wasn’t a long ride, anyway.

“I’ll see you right here after school, okay, ladybug?” Ben pulls up in front of the school.

Janis nodded, he kisses her on the head and gave her a hug from the side.

“I love you, have a good day.”

“Love you.” Janis forced a smile before she got out of the car.

A tap on her shoulder pulls her back into the present. “Jesus, Damian! You scared me.”

“You told me to look for you at your locker after school. What were you expecting?” He teased.

“Nothing, I just got scared that’s all.” 

“Well, I’m sorry.” Damian apologises, putting an arm across her shoulders, “Let’s go get burgers.”

Janis gulped, Regina's comment rang through her ears again: “Move your fat ass out of the way, ‘Imi’ike.”

She shook her head as though to get rid of that voice, then continued making her way out of the school building with Damian. They walked to their usual after school spot — their favourite fast food restaurant to enjoy their favourite burgers and fries.

Janis was starving, the school lunch sucked so she was glad to be able to get her favourite food here. But after awhile, the annoying voice came back. “Woah! May be  time for you to get a bigger sized shirt, Jan. That is not a cute look.”

“Kalua pork and rice again? You oughta cut down on that meat intake. You’ve really let yourself go these days.” The blonde sighs. 

“Look at me.” Damian snapped his fingers in front of her face to get her attention.

“What?”

“I know this look.” Damian admits, “She said shit to you, didn’t she?” 

“Since when does she not, Damian?” Janis dropped a fry back onto her plate. 

“She’s a bitch. She ain’t worth any of your time. Focus on yourself.”

“I may be focusing on myself too much.”

Damian quirked a brow, seemingly having figured out what Janis meant. “No fucking way.” 

“Oh she did. First thing she says to me every day now ever since you know — my body changed.”

“She called you obsessed? Who’s the obsessed one now? She’s always thinking of you, my friend.” 

Janis guffaws, “No thank you.” 

~~~~~

Tossing her clothes into the hamper, Janis grabs her towel and a fresh change of clothes then walked to her bathroom. Out of nowhere, the mirror caught her eye and she stopped in front of it. She looked at the reflection of her new body that she was still trying so hard to get used to. Puberty sucked— why’d her body have to change? Her hand glided down her side, stopping right by her hip. Her fingers pinched the flesh, her eyes traced her own features. Squinting, as if to look closely, as if to commit how they looked in to her memory. 

When did she get this extra flab?

When did her thighs start getting so close together?

When she seem this short? Why was she still so short? 

Janis groans, rolling her head and shoulders to relax the tension. “God, I’m fat.”

~~~~~

February, Valentine’s Day was in a week. Kids around her were all buzzing with excitement, talking about their mushy gushy plans. Janis shuddered at the thought. 

Pulling her sleeve down as she walked to her locker, “Oh, wow. Daddy’s sweater?” 

“Yeah, so? Mind your business.” 

“Smart choice, really covers up your problem areas.” 

Janis got her chemistry textbook out of her locker, shut the door and swiftly left the area. 

After school that day, Damian went to therapy with Janis. He waited outside, of course. 

“Hi, Janis.” 

“Hi, Joan.” Janis put her bag down and sat in the armchair, like always. “So…Regina really, really pissed me off today. I don’t know why— it wasn’t even that bad of a remark compared to what she usually says.” 

“What did she say?”

“She made fun of me for wearing my Dad’s sweater. Said it was a smart choice because it covered up my problem areas. She’s been calling me fat for weeks— directly, or indirectly.”

“And how have you been doing with that?”

“Oh.” Janis laughs, “Art pieces have been piling up.”

~~~~~

“Janis.” Sandra narrows her eyes at her daughter, “Eat the food, don’t just push it around on your plate.”

“I already did.”

“Finish it, you just told me the school lunch tasted horrible. It’s dinner time now.”

“I’m full.”

“You’re wasting my food.” Sandra continued, clearly unhappy. 

Ben looked between them both, concerned. For different reasons. 

“I said I’m full.” Janis inhaled sharply, gripping the metal fork tightly. Then she drops it, it hits the plate noisily. Janis got up and ran up to her room. 

“Janis!” Her mother shrieked, “You better stop that and get back down here. Finish your dinner.”

Janis stopped on a step, hesitating. But, she continued stomping upstairs despite that. “She’s crazy. How is she full?”

“Sandra, you can’t just say these things. You know that.”

“And she knows better than to take that plate for herself if she isn’t going to finish it.”

Ben sighs,”That’s it. I’ve had enough.”

“Well, good.” Sandra smiled.

“Of you. I’ve had enough of you.” Ben clarified, “You are no good. You don’t see how hard she’s trying to get better. You don’t hear how loud she was struggling. I’m doing my job as her parent and helping her. You are just here, day in and day out with useless, and harmful comments that you think you can just say and think she doesn’t hear you. Guess what? She hears you, she takes your words to heart because you are her mother. What you say to her means more than you know. You either stop this damn behaviour or I’m taking Janis and we’re moving.”

Sandra arched a brow looking at him, “Okay. Move out.” She retrieves an envelope from her bag on the couch, handing it to Ben. “Sign the papers, then you’re free to go with her.”

~~~~~

“Janis, you have to come see me tomorrow.”

“Rather not.”

“Why not?” Joan asked.

“Because, I’m tired.”

“And I want to talk to you about some things, it will help.”

“My parents got divorced.”

“I’m aware, Janis. You texted me about that.”

“Should I switch schools?”

“Of course you can.” Joan replies, “I’ve talked to your father about getting you into a different school as a possibility. He has left that choice up to you.”

“Joan, I know that. He told me that, but I’m— not sure.”

“Tell me more.”

“Well, having to start over is scary. And it’s my last year until high school, so it seems…not worth it?” 

“Is the thought of being in a brand new environment more tolerable, or the thought of being in the same space as your bully? It may be your last year, but every day should count. You should be living a life where you put yourself first.” 

“I know what to do. Thanks, Joan.”

~~~~~

“Stop laughing and go do your homework.”

“Already done, mom.”

Sandra;s nostrils flared, “I’ve had enough of your attitude, Janis. After everything we’ve done for you, you repay us by getting into trouble, becoming gay and wasting your Dad’s time and money sending you to therapy. Those are all just excuses, Janis.” 

“All those didn’t happen overnight.” Janis’ heart sank. She had tears quickly welling in her eyes. Why was her mother like this? Why doesn’t she love her?

Quietly slipping upstairs, Janis carefully shut and locked her door. Going up to her desk, she pulls out this stack of enveloped notes from her drawer and placed it on the desk. She sits on the edge of her bed, skilfully retrieving the blade she hasn’t seen in ages from her nightstand. She was crying,  she could feel the tears hitting her thighs, hitting her forearms. When she went ahead, it stung— at first. But she was used to this, so she repeated her actions, only wincing when her salty tears hit the sites. Over and over, deeper and deeper. Her grip goes weaker and weaker…her vision was blurred by her tears but she blinked them away and her vision comes back into focus. Janis sees the photo of her as a child, with her father at Pololū Valley…back home. In Kohala. How Janis wishes she could be home. Not here in this house. The blade falls from her grip, hitting the floor. Janis curses, beginning to feel lightheaded. Blinking profusely, she was suddenly aware of the excruciating pain and was doing everything in her power to not scream. 

Holding her phone with a shaky hand, Janis dials her dad’s number. He picks up in seconds, “Daddy, daddy I’m sorry. Please help me, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.”

His blood ran cold hearing how broken she was. “Ipo, I’m calling 911 right now. Will you stay awake for daddy? Please, ladybug? Promise?”

Shit. Ben was only out of the house for awhile— he’d went to the bakery nearby to get Janis’ favourite cake as a reward for a 94% percent on a math quiz.

“I promise…but it hurts so much, Daddy.”

“I know, ladybug. I gotta hang up, but I’ll be right there with you, I promise.”

A second later, Ben had hung up on Janis to call 911. Janis didn’t stay awake for more than a minute. She’d passed out. Even the thud didn’t alarm Sandra. Not until she saw the paramedics drive up to the house.

~~~~~

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

“You did. You were just too stuck in your own mindset and beliefs. We’re not married anymore. Just go, you’re free.” 

As apologetic as Sandra was now, as much as she’d cried. Ben knew not to give in anymore. Why should he? Janis almost successfully took her own life under her care. Because of her words. 

Janis looked away when she saw her mother turning her head to look at her. She hated her. Janis hated this woman. And she wasn’t sorry about it. Why should she? 

“Daddy, I wanna go home.”

“I know, I know. You can’t just yet.” Ben cups her face, brushing her tears away. “But I promise you, we will.”

Janis spent three days under constant supervision, then three months in the psych ward.  Her education had no doubt been put on pause, but that meant full, undivided focus on her recovery— anxiety, depression, self-harm and disordered eating. She really buckled down and put her heart and soul into getting better. For her own sake, she wanted to get out and do more. Go back to school, make new friends, spend time with Damian— she wanted to live life again. 

~~~~~

“Here’s the cake I owe you.” Ben smiled, letting go from the hug, “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“It’s nothing.”

Janis shook her head, “Thank you. For everything.” 

“It wasn’t all me, ladybug. You’ve done a whole lot of work for yourself to get to where you are now.”

“Can we go to the beach, please?” Janis smiled, sniffling. 

“And get shave ice?” Ben asks with a chuckle.

“Always.”

~~~~~

The Plastics were in O’ahu for their high school graduation trip. Janis didn’t know until Damian brought it up. This was the first time she’s heard that name or seen that face since she moved back to Kohala with her Dad following the divorce. Janis was turning 14, and they had to make do with living out of a room in a relative’s home for awhile, but Janis has never been happier. To be homeschooled, to be here, to be home. At peace, at last. 

“Well, when are you coming here, dude? I miss you.”

“Next week, Janis.” Damian says, “I’m a broke ass bitch, had to book my flight out for the date that’s the cheapest.”

“Alright.” Janis laughs heartily, “See you soon.”

“Lunch is ready, Janis.” Her aunt knocks on the patio door.

“I’ll be there in a second, ‘Anakē. Just have to finish up this part of the piece.”

“Okay, honey.” 

~~~~~

“Janis? Oh, my God. It’s you.” A familiar voice stops Janis in her tracks on the beach. She was curious, not tense, or worried, or anxious. She turns around, and comes face to face with Gretchen Wieners. 

“Hi, Gretchen.”

“I’m so glad to see you again.”  Gretchen walked closer, Janis smiled wider. And then, they hugged.  “I didn’t know you moved back here.”

“I didn’t tell anyone.” Janis chuckles, “How are you?”

“Our senior class is here for a graduation trip. Regina is nearby if you’d rather steer clear of her.” Gretchen said, then her voice trails off at the end. Janis squints, “Are you okay?” 

“Uh, yeah. Just— Regina is behind—”

“I am sorry.” Regina began once Janis turned around the other way to look her in the eye, “But I know it doesn’t cut it. I’ve hurt you. Everything you’ve been through started because of me. I don’t know what else I can say except apologise over and over and over hoping that you hear me. That you acknowledge it, you don’t have to forgive me. I deserve it. And more. Janis, you were the greatest loss of my life.”

This was the first time Janis had been calm in front of Regina. First time since they were friends. Damn, how long ago was that?

“I was a nasty person, in denial. But I…I’ve missed you every day that I’ve spent apart from you.”

~~~~~

Janis was certain she was dreaming, feeling the girl’s lips against her own, eager, tender, exciting, and filled with yearning. After six long years, they have both found themselves, and their way back to each other.  

“Are you sure you want to—”

Janis answered the question by connecting their lips.

One thing led to another quickly, becoming increasingly heated. Regina backs Janis onto the mattress, straddling her smoothly.  “I’ve missed you so fucking much. I can’t believe it took me this long to accept that I was gay.”“Just kiss me already.” Janis pulls her down.

Regina chuckles into the kiss, unbuttoning Janis’ shirt and reaching back to unclip her bra, freeing the girl’s breasts. As Regina kisses a trail along her jaw and down her neck, Janis’ head got thrown back as she swallowed a low noise.  

“Holy shit, that is a gorgeous tattoo.”

Janis chuckles lowly when she feels the blonde’s fingertips tracing the art, “Thanks.”

~~~~~

“Fuck— I— I love you.”  Regina panted, falling onto her back next to Janis. Janis laughs breathily, in disbelief of what she’d just heard. 

“Okay. Wow.” Janis turned her head to look at Regina.

“I do. And I have for years. I just couldn’t—”

Janis smiled, brushing the stray hairs out of the blonde’s face, cupping her cheek. A sleepy smile tugs at her lips. 

“Where are you going for college—”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? When we’re more awake and alert?” Janis requested.

Regina hums, nodding, “Yeah, that’d be better.”

~~~~~

In the fall, Regina starts college at Yale, and Janis at NYU. The couple did long-distance but saw each other in person at least every other week. 

This new stage of their lives was going well. They were thriving, but by the summer, Janis notices Regina getting more and more withdrawn, and cold. Snarky, like her old self. 

Over a late night FaceTime call, Regina reveals that she’d relapsed. She was struggling with bulimia again after being three years in recovery. Despite all efforts, Regina deteriorated and had to be in the hospital. 

At first, Regina only took a leave of absence. But then she’d eventually withdrew her name from school. Janis did all she could to support her girlfriend, but it was so tough. She’d started to shut everyone out. 

They’d then decided to return to their regime of FaceTime calls— everyday. The distance allowed them to cool off. For Regina to focus on recovery, for Janis to focus on school. There wasn’t any more Janis could do at this point. She wasn’t a medical professional. 

~~~~~

After a full year in the recovery facility, Regina could finally go home. Home, as in Chicago. But June did something— she’d bought Regina an apartment in New York so she could be closer to Janis. So then, their relationship went on without another mention of Regina’s eating disorder. Like it’s never happened. 

They were healing, they were fulfilled, they were happy. 

Were they really happy? Or in denial of their past and choosing to forget instead of process them?

Janis knew she was the happiest she’s ever been. The most authentically herself.  But she’s had times where she found herself wondering if Regina was indeed happy to be with her.

Her gut was trying to tell her something.

————

After four years in the city that never sleeps, Janis was once again back where she was meant to be. Home. With her family. 

“New York was fun, huh, ladybug?”

“It was. It was…something special. Learnt a lot, about myself, about other people.”

“I know, honey.” Ben nodded in understanding, “Hey, maybe we should make it our thing, to go to the city every year? It’ll be fun.” 

“I’d like that.” Janis agreed.

“Did you manage to meet anyone special?” 

She laughs, “I have been talking to this girl in one of my lectures, but no, not dating yet.” 

“Ua ola loko i ke aloha.” Ben reminded. 

“Love gives life within.” Janis grins, “I know, Daddy. When the timing is right, what’s meant to happen will happen.” 

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@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[ryescapades]

- thinking of no one in particular but this has been in my mind for too long so i just had to get it down no matter what. - angst ?? idk but it has an open ending... kinda. | <400 wc

the two of you broke up years ago.

it was a 'right person wrong time' circumstance for you both. so young, so immature, naive and very much in love. but there was too much holding you back, too much going on and nothing you did was ever enough.

something felt missing.

was it your love? was it your time and attention? were they lacking? or were they too much? regardless, the day he cut all ties with you, the day he broke your beating heart that he had always been holding in his hands, was the day you vowed you'd do everything in your power to not be in that vulnerable spot again; picking up every little broken piece with bleeding hands like they were shattered glass.

maybe it's a manifestation of your own teetering luck, or the rustlings of an inauspicious omen whispered into your ear, rattling the very frame of your skull, but when you see him again years later, everything just feels... right.

it's a heartfelt reunion. wistful, even. you hit it off right away, like two intertwined souls finding their home back with each other.

the two of you catch up, he takes you out to lunch at your favorite fast food chain, orders your favorite drink exactly like how you've always had it, brings you to a leisurely stroll in the city because he knows you enjoy sightseeing even the most mundane of things.

and later that evening when he sends you back home, with light in his eyes, he asks, "we'll talk again soon?" suddenly there's a war raging between your head and your heart.

is this your chance? is it finally your time to be happy? is it okay to indulge yourself one more time with the one who knows your heart best?

you give him one last lingering look then, committing him into your fractured memory and sending him off with a soft, almost woeful smile on your lips. he stands still at your front step as the door closes. as the last glimpse of you disappears from his view. as the whisper of a goodbye along with his name floats in the air around him before it dissipates into nothingness.

he stands there as he realizes you'd said goodbye, and not a see you later.

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[reasonsforhope]

People ask me sometimes how I'm so confident that we can beat climate change.

There are a lot of reasons, but here's a major one: it would take a really, really long time for Earth to genuinely become uninhabitable for humans.

Humans have, throughout history, carved out a living for themselves in some of the most harsh, uninhabitable corners of the world. The Arctic Circle. The Sahara. The peaks of the Himalayas. The densest, most tropical regions of the Amazon Rainforest. The Australian Outback. etc. etc.

Frankly, if there had been a land bridge to Antarctica, I'm pretty sure we would have been living there for thousands of years, too. And in fact, there are humans living in Antarctica now, albeit not permanently.

And now, we're not even facing down apocalypse, anymore. Here's a 2022 quote from the author of The Uninhabitable Earth, David Wallace-Wells, a leader on climate change and the furthest thing from a climate optimist:

"The most terrifying predictions [have been] made improbable by decarbonization and the most hopeful ones practically foreclosed by tragic delay. The window of possible climate futures is narrowing, and as a result, we are getting a clearer sense of what’s to come: a new world, full of disruption but also billions of people, well past climate normal and yet mercifully short of true climate apocalypse. Over the last several months, I’ve had dozens of conversations — with climate scientists and economists and policymakers, advocates and activists and novelists and philosophers — about that new world and the ways we might conceptualize it. Perhaps the most capacious and galvanizing account is one I heard from Kate Marvel of NASA, a lead chapter author on the fifth National Climate Assessment: “The world will be what we make it.”" -David Wallace-Wells for the New York Times, October 26, 2022

If we can adapt to some of the harshest climates on the planet - if we could adapt to them thousands of years ago, without any hint of modern technology - then I have every faith that we can adjust to the world that is coming.

What matters now is how fast we can change, because there is a wide, wide gap between "climate apocalypse" and "no harm done." We've already passed no harm done; the climate disasters are here, and they've been here. People have died from climate disasters already, especially in the Global South, and that will keep happening.

But as long as we stay alive - as long as we keep each other alive - we will have centuries to fix the effects of climate change, as much as we possibly can.

And looking at how far we've come in the past two decades alone - in the past five years alone - I genuinely think it is inevitable that we will overcome climate change.

So, we're going to survive climate change, as a species.

What matters now is making sure that every possible individual human survives climate change as well.

What matters now is cutting emissions and reinventing the world as quickly as we possibly can.

What matters now is saving every life and livelihood and way of life that we possibly can.

[daeyumi]

decay 🌑🗡️⚫️

[2022]

[jackshiccup]

affectionate chin tilts my beloved.. (perhaps in the same universe as my college/long distance au)

[doctorsiren]

Gang I’m seeing Twenty One Pilots today !! 🫶💥

[skunkes]

[napstawantstosleep]

C! Eret has been on my mind lately and I noticed that their growth as a character was mostly them accepting their mistakes and making peace with their past self haha my life model fr

[stubz]

"...Oh fudge." Max mutters

"What?" Kim asks helping a youngling put on their shoes

"Lux is gonna blow a gasket. Get the report ready." Max mumbles sprinting over to the Irascor watching the scene unfold before him.

Gylka was playing next to Lux when his little tail accidently knocked over the bigger youngling's fort. The apex predator's face slowly turned purple with rage before he roared and leaped towards Gylka.

"LUX!" Max shouts just as he catches the ape mid jump. Twirling he sits down on the ground hard and immediately traps the youngling in a bear hug, pressing Lux's back firmly to his chest.

"HE BROKE IT! HE BROKE MY FORT! HE BROOOKE IT!!" screams Lux clawing at Max's arms trying to break free and grab the other youngling.

"I saw the whole thing Lux, it was an accident." Grunts the human, wincing as the youngling's claws dig into his arms

The youngling ignores Max, screaming and roaring at Gylka who is carried away by a cooing Kim, soothing the frightened child.

.

Minutes pass and the other younglings watch from a safe distance Lux thrashing and biting their other teacher.

"Lux, it's okay it was an accident." Nova, a small tighalax, creeps forward trying to calm her fellow classmate.

"We can build a new fort-"

"Woah there!" Kim yelps swinging the feline like youngling by the scruff away from Lux's swiping claws.

"Lux!" scolds Max.

"Let's, uh, give Lux and Max some space alright kids?" Kim says ushering the kids away. 'Call parents?' she mouths

'Just report it' he mouths back

..

Max has to restrain Lux till his parents come, which after the time the Captain came to pick up Nova.

"Papa!" she squeals leaping into his arms purring.

"...Max...Lux." he awkwardly greets the human on the ground bear hugging the hissing apex.

"Heya Captain!" Max grins, wincing as Lux thrashes against Max for the thousandth time.

"Lux got mad cause Gylka accidently broke their fort but it was an accident! And Gylka said sorry." Nova said looking pointedly at Lux.

"He broke it!" Lux screams

"...is this the first time this has happened?"

"...no."

"Max...if you need help ask me. You don't have to suck it up." Captain mutters glancing at the youngling in the human's arms.

"...really? You can...do that?"

"If its a problem, which it looks like it is, and you have proof of this happening 3 or more times then absolutely."

"Lux your parents are here!" Nova shouts looking at the Irascor couple.

"...so what'll it be?"

"...please help." the human sighs.

...

"So its official, Lux is gone, transferring to a centre that's specialized in caring for kids who need more one-on-one care like them." Kim sighs cracking open a iced tea.

"Is it bad I'm happy?" Max mutters fiddling with the bandaids on his arms.

"Listen, Lux needs attention and care that we just can't give. We're not trained for that. Also the parents kinda sucked." she hands him a coke

"Yeah...man I'm happy the Captain did that."

"I'm happy Nova so brutally told the truth to Lux' parents, did you see their faces? Priceless." Kim laughs remembering how eagerly the feline told the parents all of the thing Lux did when he got too upset.

"No one's more brutal in truth telling than a child." Max grins

"She's the reason why I cut back on the snacks, she literally came up to me and patted my stomach saying that I must be eating for two. she called me pregnant Max! With that sweet little smile on her face!"

He snorts his coke and laughs through the choking.

(you have @cmstars2 to thank for this one. if its bad blame them for their ask which fueled me write this at 2am)