#like it's making me feel kind of sick at myself

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bitter

Azriel x Reader - One Shot - Angst

Elain orders a couple shots. Azriel’s ex serves her.

“Now I’m sick in the head and it’s not even my fault”

She laughs as she approaches the bar. Lovely, beautiful, kind. Gods, she smells like honey and roses too. She even says “please” as she orders two shots of Patron.

I’m almost surprised, Patron for such a flowery thing. The most girls like her typically order are Lemon Drops. A sugar sweet rim with a bit of sour beneath.

I’m sure he encouraged her. Tequila, his drink of choice for the ladies. The clothes fall off easier that way.

I’d know.

Four years, four years I’d worked here and never gone home with a customer.

Until the Shadowsinger.

He had those sad brooding eyes that you can’t help but want to fix. Hazel irises that seeped into the marrow of your bones like a cancer, seeking out the guarded depths of the soul.

“He’s been gone for nearly fifty years now.” He’d say as he threw back another two finger pour of whiskey - neat.

“The court isn’t the same without him. Even from a business standpoint, our imports are lacking. Which is fine, but it’s a testament to the effect the High Lord has on this court.” I’d reply as I poured him another.

“Yeah…..” he’d trail off. My heart clenched at the emotion disguised by a stoic facade, the slight feathering of his jaw before throwing back the next shot.

I’d take care of a few other patrons, returning back to the Shadowsinger with another round from the occasional guest who’d send him a shot. Despite the “Illyrian bastard” reputation he blasted, he’s revered in Velaris, he fares quite well in the bedroom. What’s the classic phrase? Tall, dark, and handsome? Yeah, he’s got all that. That and a tragic backstory, a perfectly symmetrical face, and the highly gossiped about wingspan.

Females and males alike line up for a chance to have those scarred hands wrapped around their throat. A chance to win his heart through sexual prowess and witty one liners.

I didn’t even want him. Perhaps that’s what caught his eye. A customer who tipped well? Of course he was that. I gave him a free shot once for being patient while an influx of customers waved dollar bills at me desperate for their next shot in advance of the rest of the queue.

The nights that he sat at the bar extended later and later until it became routine for him to pop in, take a seat, and shut the place down- all from the shroud of wispy shadows.

When was the first time he fucked me in the alley? The first night he walked me home? The first night my cat curled up behind him as my head rested in the crook of his arm?

“It’s not serious.” I told myself as I came to depend on him like heroin. He sure as shit didn’t make it feel that way.

There were plans. Plans for what we’d do together when things settled down.

Rosehall was beautiful in the spring but a winter wonderland in December. Even the Illyrian Steppes had lovely secrets if you knew where to look. He couldn’t wait to cradle me in his arms as those membranous wings took flight to all the wonders he’d share with me.

There was the attack on Velaris. My apartment building was wrecked. He never came to check in.

Then the war came and I understood.

I was certain he was busy.

But I didn’t see him again.

Until tonight.

And here she is. Warm and lovely, she tipped well before walking back to the table with those two shots of Patron. I told her they were on the house.

I want to hate her. I want to loathe him. It would make me feel better, right?

But being bitter leaves the soul weathered, so I pour another shot, serve the next customer, cash out, and saunter home.

And if a stray shadow lurks in the dark as I wander, that’s not my business anymore.

—————————————-

Tags:

ACOTAR General: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @ahaha0246

[deliciouskeys]

I threatened to write something for Butchlander week and well... I have written, uh, something. *skulks back into the abyss*

Written to accompany this wonderful art I commissioned from @semains whom I love dearly-- thank you for indulging my requests for setting and exact pose as well! Commission them!

Butchlander Week NSFW Saturday prompt: Roleplay/Roles. Because it might be the role of a lifetime for Butcher, but you know Homelander is having the time of his life pretending he can't escape / pretending it hurts sooo much.

(yeah, double dipping) Cozy Corner Kinktober prompt #5 Buttplug (sort of. I can't explain myself. I have no excuses. It might be disturbing, so apologies in advance. Pure Id, aka wtf).

My header is getting longer than the ficlet, gdi

"Harder." Homelander's tone is haughty and whiny all at once–  so grating that Butcher wishes he could deliver on the request. Who'd have thought that this grandiose straightedge little cunt would get so hard having a stranger smack him over and over? Who'd ever guess that this supe celebrity– maybe the world's most famous person, and definitely the darling of the American public– would be into this kind of shit behind closed doors? That he wouldn't be bloody ashamed of himself whisking Butcher off to his bizarrely decorated apartment every single night.  Bypassing all of Vought security, so that Vought's public enemy number… if not #1 then at least top 10… could make himself comfortable sitting on his bed. Not all that comfortable, since the bed is a strange upholstered leather number and stiff as hell, but Butcher supposes a supe might not feel the difference between this and a Tempur-Pedic.

He brings him here every night, and every night the script stays largely the same. Homelander plies him with some alcohol, sometimes a glass of whiskey, but more often just a bottle of Heineken. Butcher sits down, Homelander eagerly drapes himself over his lap, pulls and folds his cape underneath him, as if he doesn't trust Butcher enough to spread it out next to him. wiggling his hips, insisting Butcher pull down his pants and spank him. And Butcher obliges every time, even though it's clearly hurting his hands much more than it hurts Homelander– they alternate sides every night but Butcher suspects he already has stress fractures that don't heal because his hands ache all the time and never quite recover between sessions. But despite the pain, and despite the very little to no pain he's actually inflicting on the spoiled brat who always asks to be hit harder, there's just something irresistible about it. About finally being allowed to take out his aggression on the man he hates most in the world. The man he hates most in the world, who also happens to have a surprisingly perky ass that jiggles hypnotically if you hit it hard enough and just right, so Butcher hits him with his full strength not because of the cunt's whiny demands, but because he just wants to see the flesh wobble.

"I said harder!" Homelander's voice cuts through Butcher's thoughts, and Butcher can't help it any longer.

"You want me to hit you harder, you're gonna have to find a paddle."

Homelander's breath hitches and he says nothing in reply. No, this sick cunt clearly craves skin on skin contact to get off, Butcher already knows this, which is why he knew what to threaten him with to get him to shut up.

But he does wish he could hurt him. The achy joints of his hand plead he stop. Butcher stares down at the well defined muscular globes, skin turned a nice blush color where he's been hit but Butcher wishes he could turn it black and blue. Purple and green. He wants the cunt to really feel the intensity he's supposedly asking for, just to prove how wrong he is.

"I'm waiting," Homelander reminds him.

"Just taking a breather, alright? Enjoying the view." Butcher tries to squeeze a handful of flesh, but it's never as soft as it looks. "Look like one of 'em marble statues you got out in your lounge area."

Butcher hears Homelander's breath hitch and sees him take a peek at the mirror above, clearly checking himself out. This is all a game to him. It flatters his vanity that Butcher does this for him. Butcher would like nothing more than to turn this around on him, make it less of a game and more of an actual punishment.

A strange idea creeps in. Butcher leans back to reach for the Heineken bottle he emptied earlier and put on the nightstand, always on a coaster Homelander insists he use. God forbid he get a water ring on the antique looking furniture, with the creepy little cameo portraits of people who died last century. The beer is mostly just to take the edge off before Homelander lies down over his legs– he and Homelander mutually figured out the session goes better if he's slightly buzzed and maybe just a little numb to the pain in his hand. And they figured this out because Homelander happened to whisk him away right after he stumbled out of a bar on a late Saturday night, after which point Butcher understood that Homelander would come and find him wherever he was– even if he wasn't at home past midnight. It's sexual slavery, is what it is. Butcher would resent it more if he didn't somewhat enjoy getting to beat this cunt on a nightly basis before being dropped off at home.

Homelander shifts, growing impatient while waiting for another round of spanking to start after the breather. "Come on!" he says through gritted teeth, and he sounds angry, and fucking self-righteous, as if he's complaining about customer service he's paid for. It's not Butcher's fault that the cunt only seems to come after he's gotten spanked for minutes straight, at some point his body finally deciding that this is such an enjoyable moment that his hips start grinding forward into Butcher's leg and he comes, the same pathetic little hitched moan escaping his lips every time, the same toe-curling Butcher can see because the cunt does take off his boots to lie on the bed. Thank god he never pulls his pants far down enough, because he never gets any jizz on Butcher's jeans. Homelander seems to think Butcher doesn't notice, or at least they both pretend they haven't. As if Butcher can avoid noticing his leg being humped violently, wondering if this is the night the cunt breaks one of his limbs out of pure excitement. As if it's not clear what just happened from the flushed face and glazed over eyes the supe has when he rises off the bed, finally satisfied. But if no one tells and no one asks, it didn't necessarily happen, and both seem content to keep it at that. Homelander takes a quick shower and suit change before dropping Butcher off at his apartment, without any further ceremony or pleasantries, and by morning Butcher is half in denial about any of it even happening.

"Are you fucking deaf? Why did you stop?" Homelander says and starts to turn his head to look back at him, but Butcher shoves his face back to face forward. 

They have an unspoken agreement not to look each other in the eye when they're doing this, ever. Homelander almost broke the agreement, but obediently looks away again after the lightest push.

"Shut your fucking trap already. I heard you the first ten times just fine," Butcher growls under his breath, and his mind is made up about what he was hesitating to do. He forces the neck of the empty bottle into the cunt's tight crack, moving it around, looking for give.

Homelander's back arches, clearly not expecting the sensation. "The fuck are you doing?"

"GIving you something harder, like you were whining for, you spoiled brat." Butcher gives up doing it blindly and pulls one of the cheeks towards him. "Now where's your fucking chocolate starfish? You even have one?" And as if to punctuate that last word, Butcher finds the place and  breaks the initial resistance resistance, the bottle neck beginning a slow slide in.

Homelander breathes harder. "I don't like it," he mutters, and his ass flexes in protest.

"You better like it and accept it, or else you're going to end up with a pile of glass shards inside you."

Butcher is skeptical that glass could really do anything to this supe's internal organs, but it seems Homelander wants to avoid the mess anyway, and his muscles relax.

"That's right. Now stop whining and take your punishment."

He tries to push the bottle in even further, feeling more and more protest.

"I don't like it," Homelander repeats, sharply this time, as if it means something.

"You ain't supposed to like it," Butcher says and decides to finally smack him on the ass with his other hand after keeping him waiting. Butcher doesn't anticipate that Homelander's body will convulse, shatter the bottle, grind into him, and come all at once.

"The hell was that?" Butcher asks, pulling back the jagged bottle's bottom half that survived. Homelander's body is still twitching underneath him and he's panting. Maybe this was going to be it. Butcher overstepped the line. Homelander was probably immersed in some unresolved childhood trauma or fantasy or whatever the fuck about having a father figure who would discipline him with a firm but loving hand. This must have ended the illusion for him. Maybe enough that Butcher is about to meet his end– sometimes it's hard to remember that the whimpering quivering pathetic mess draped over his knees is the selfsame terrifying force of nature that can take out an entire army if he ever just chose to do so.

But the cunt won't even pick his head up. He's buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Is he fucking crying? Butcher wonders for a second if it's possible that he's actually fucking done it. Actually hurt him. Maybe a plug of C4 won't kill him but maybe it'll make him feel the hurt? A whole assortment of images races through Butcher's mind. He wants to try everything now. His crowbar, a bat studded with rusty nails, maybe the same bottle but a Molotov cocktail this time. Payback for thinking he can just force Butcher to indulge him, to make every night about getting him off. This opens up a whole new world of possibilities.

But Homelander stirs and starts to sit up, and Butcher winces and his teeth are set on edge when he can hear the crunching sound of glass grinding against glass, and tiny green shards start dropping out of him as Homelander tilts to sit back on his heels.

"That was— amazing…" Homelander whispers, breathless. His hands are folded demurely in his lap as if he didn't just orgasm to being diddled with a bottle of Heineken. "You want another beer?"

"No!" Butcher says, sounding more emphatic and more disturbed than he intendedto let on. "No, you sick fuck."

"Does your hand hurt?" Homelander asks, and it's without any impatience in his tone, maybe even a note of real sympathy, completely ignoring the insult just lobbed at him. Before Butcher knows what's happening, Homelander leans down and licks the hand that had just been spanking him. Butcher jerks it away defensively, but Homelander follows it licking it, laving each finger with his tongue before leaning into it with his brow ridge, then his nose, rubbing himself into it. It feels soothing and takes away some of the sore feeling, Butcher is loath to admit.

But he needs to regain what little control he has in this arrangement. "You want me to pet ya? Then lie back where you belong," he says. It's gratifying to see the supe cunt immediately obey him. He stretches himself back into his former position, and Butcher kneads the flesh of his ass.

"We can do the bottle again if your hands hurt," Homelander says, sighing contentedly and breaking the rule– looking back at Butcher with a look that is disturbingly similar to fondness.

"We can," Butcher agrees, trying to ignore the glass that's spilled out on the sheets and forget the crunching sound the bottle made when it snapped in half at the neck.

[aubvrns]

"Longer Than A Fortnight"

| SVU & Headcanons

Synopsis — Their love languages towards you, and the kind they want to receive.

Note — Olivia Benson, Elliot Stabler, Alexandra Cabot, Casey Novak

(Female centered, but no pronouns used.)

!!

Olivia Benson

• — Olivia Benson is 100% acts of service.

• — She is the kind of lover that will tie your shoelaces, even if she’s running late.

• — WILL AND I MEAN WILL, do the simplest tasks for you just because she can!

• — "What you do mean you went out to get groceries? Without me?"

• — Her way of saying "I love you." is to comb your hair after you finished showering, and she asks you to sit on her lap as she does. (biting my fists rn)

• — Though, she craves for words of affirmation.

• — She didn’t grow up in a home where she felt appreciated, nor did she ever felt the comfort of her parents.

• — But she knew she loved you when you told her the sweetest sentence ever.

• — "I love you so much that you make me get out of bed to get groceries."

• — Seconds later, you felt arms behind you. Not long enough before your shoulder dampens.

Elliot Stabler

• — This man is so quality time.

• — He knows he has a dangerous job that occupies his time, hours and hours in the precinct.

• — But any chance he gets, he will come home to you.

• — "Pack your bags, we’re going to Italy!"

• — He’s afraid of losing you, or letting you go to the plane’s bathroom because you’re comfortable in his arms.

• — Amidst the turbulence, he enjoys your physical touch.

• — From all the abuse and torment he witnessed, it’s rare for him to feel safe nowadays.

• — That’s why he isn’t afraid to admit that he loves the way you kiss his forehead, trace patterns on his gentle calloused hands, or spooning him when he gets nightmares.

• — "Italy won’t run away, let’s just stay 5 more minutes in bed."

• — More so, your vanilla scented hair was his view of a vacation.

Alexandra Cabot

• — Shoot me when I say this blonde’s love language isn’t giving gifts.

• — Being a lawyer with an amazing conviction rate also means having money, money, money!

• — She enjoys spoiling you, giving you everything you need and want just because she can. She refuses to let you reach for your wallet, at all.

• — "I bought the necklace you stared at earlier!"

• — Besides your lips, Ms. Cabot also tracks your eyes. (i would like to have you for christmas)

• — Starring at you, she never noticed how much she longed for acts of service.

• — Her parents were always away, and she was left alone. Her parents’ money were their way of saying they’re sorry they couldn’t come to her graduation.

• — She was surprised when you called in sick, even though she was the one coughing like there’s no tomorrow.

• — "What do you mean I could’ve bought myself medicine instead of your necklace?"

• — You can’t help but smile as you sat beside her laying body, wiping her warm face with a wet cloth as she explains how much your necklace reminds her of your eyes.

Casey Novak

• — This redheaded loser in a hot body cannot go on a day without physical touch.

• — She was raised as an affectionate child, expressing her love greatly as her parents did.

• — Her auburn hair is as warm as her as you lay between her arms, her face on the crook of your neck as she sleeps soundly.

• — "If only court saw how soft and adorable you are when you sleep, you wouldn’t seem so intimidating." You say, playing with her hair.

• — Smiling lovingly, she unconsciously pulls you closer.

• — Aside from her comfort, she adores your words of affirmation.

• — She was the kid who would wait in her teachers’ approval, hoping that she did good enough for their expectations.

• — Luckily for her, she didn’t have to wait anymore.

• — "You think I look soft and adorable when I sleep? I think I want to kiss you right now."

• — And she did, like the soft and adorable loser she is.

!!

[imawreck]

Lean On Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky notices you’ve been struggling recently, and he can’t help but try and make you feel better.

Author’s Note: I have not dealt with depression myself, but I have been around many who have. I tried to write this story based on some of the ways they have described the feeling to be in order to make it as accurate as I could. This is for the lovely individual who reached out to me for a request! I hope this gives you the comfort you need, and I send all my best wishes to you <3

Warnings: This fic deals with depression, so if that is a triggering topic for you please be wary and read with caution. Also like one use of y/n.

Word Count: 1,975

It was happening again.

That sinking, hollow feeling had begun to creep into your chest and draw open the doors in your mind that hid all those viscous thoughts you desperately tried to escape.

The self loathing, guilt, and the constant sorrow that seemed to follow you with no cause at all.

And Bucky could tell.

It was in the way you had gone from holding yourself tall while walking through the halls or talking to the team members. It was in the way your voice didn’t carry as happily, choosing to make yourself known less and less. He had watched your shoulders cave inwards and your head bow instead as you shuffled around the tower in the recent weeks or even chose to stay in your room all day.

He knew something was wrong.

Bucky had been your friend ever since you had joined the team. He had been taken with you from the start, drawn to your kindness and your down to earth attitude. You were a splash of color in his otherwise dull and colorless life.

It had taken him a while to gather the courage to talk to you that first time in the training area, to walk up to your confident form and smiling face and attempt to introduce himself without scaring you away. It had been easier than he’d thought. You had smiled at him, showed him equal kindness despite his rather bleak and bloody past, and even continued to seek him out for talks in your free time.

He had grown rather accustomed to you. Gravitated around you, even.

So when you’d started to dull, the brightness fading from your smile and the life in your eyes dimming, he had to do something about it.

He rapped his metal knuckles on your door, his ears listening intently for your melodic voice to beckon him inside. When it doesn’t, he eases the door open a crack, keeping his eyes on the floor just in case you’re indecent.

“Y/N?” His hushed voice calls into the room, and he hears a rustle and a concerning sniffle in return. It spurs him to open the door wider, “Can I come in, Doll?”

There’s a moment of silence before he hears the covers of your bed shift and your soft voice call to him, “Come in.”

He shuffles inside, quietly shutting the door behind him. It takes him a moment to adjust to your dark room, blinking several times before he’s able to take in the outline of your small form on the bed.

You sit against the headboard, knees pulled to your chest and eyes downcast. This wasn’t normal behavior for you, especially when he’d come to visit you. Normally, you’d have yanked the door open and welcomed him with one of your famous hugs. He’d swing you around like he always did, and he’d soak in that wonderful little laugh you’d let out.

But this, this sent alarm bells off in his head and made his heart squeeze anxiously. “Hey, dollface,” he kept his voice low, soothing. “I didn’t see you at dinner and everyone was wondering if you were sick or something. Wanted to come check on you.”

Bucky eased himself onto the side of the bed, his weight dipping the bed slightly. You kept your eyes down, fiddling with your fingers anxiously. It wasn’t something you did often, and Bucky picked up on it pretty fast.

You pulled your lip between your teeth, “No, I’m not sick. I just felt tired, that’s all.”

He knew it was a lie, at least partially. He could faintly see the dark circles under your eyes in the dim light streaming in from your window. He might’ve missed it if the moon hadn’t been out.

“Doll,” he frowned, giving you that ‘we both know that’s bullshit’ look, “you can’t lie to me.”

You knew he was right, knew your pathetic excuse was as see through as glass. Bucky could read you like a book, knew you better than anyone else did. Even when you had first met, he could tell when your mood would change the slightest bit. He was just that in tune to you.

Bucky watched as you worried your lip some more, and tears began to well in your eyes. It broke his heart to see you like this, to see you struggle to talk to him, to trust him with whatever was making you wither like this.

He wanted to reach out to you, to comfort you any way he could, but he needed you to come to him. He didn’t want to push you, to accidentally make you feel trapped.

The next words you spoke made his heart shatter.

“I don’t want you to think I’m weak.”

You had mumbled it, barely above a whisper, but he could hear the tremble of your voice. The fear in your tone, like you were afraid that just speaking it would shatter you.

Bucky thought the world of you. You were smart, kind, selfless. Always helping him and the others, always being someone they could all trust and talk to freely. But you had always been especially kind to Bucky. You always understood when he needed space, or knew how to comfort him best when he was having one of those darker days. You knew about his nightmares, helped him through them even. You were his rock when he felt his world would crash down in the blink of an eye, always bringing him back from the edge.

And Bucky had realized that even though you were always there for the others, you had never truly asked to talk about your own issues. You’d never let on when something was wrong or asked for help.

With his heart tearing in his chest, he threw caution to the wind. His arms circled around you, pulling your curled form into his lap. “Doll, I have never— could never—think you were weak.”

You buried your head in his neck, clenching your teeth to try and keep the tears from falling. “But I am, Bucky. I’m weak and useless, I don’t even know why I’m here.”

Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest, threatening to burst. He had never felt this kind of torment before. Not even when he had been in the clutches of Hydra.

“Hey— hey. You are the strongest person I have ever known. Even stronger than Stevie.” He couldn’t bare to hear you talk about yourself like this, to see you so low.

Bucky pulled you tighter against him, curling his metal arm around you to press you closer to his chest. Maybe, if he held you close enough, he could protect you from whatever dark thoughts had taken hold of you. “Talk to me, Babydoll, please. Tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty head.”

You didn’t want to confess to him, didn’t want anyone to know about your struggling. It was yours to handle, your own responsibility to deal with, not anyone else’s.

But as he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world, your resolve began to crumble. Tears began to leak from your eyes, soaking the neckline of his sweatshirt. Your chest felt tight as you muffled the sobs wracking your body.

Bucky felt all of this, the tremble of your body, the dampness collecting on his clothes from your tears, and just held you tighter. Any more, and he might crush you.

“I struggle with depression.”

There, it was out there. He knew, and now he’d think less of you. He’d treat you differently like everyone else always did, and eventually it would be too much for him.

You tensed up, preparing for whatever words came out of him. For his pity or a lecture like most gave you. To tell you it’s all in your head.

Instead, Bucky’s flesh hand began rubbing your back. The gentle motions soothed the tension in your spine, comforting you without words.

His soft lips pressed against your temple, and he mumbled into your hair, “Have you ever thought less of be because of the things I struggle with? My nightmares, fears, all of that?”

You frowned against his neck, sniffling and shaking your head. “No, I haven’t. Not ever.”

“Then why would I think you were weak just because you struggle sometimes with how you feel?” He asked, still gently rubbing your back.

“Because you have a reason, Bucky. You were tortured for decades.” You mumble, another rush of tears following the tightness in your chest at the thought. “I haven’t suffered like that, there’s no reason for me to feel this way.”

“Just because you haven’t been through something traumatic doesn’t make how you feel or your struggles less important.” Bucky pulled away from you just enough to hold your eyes, “Feelings are hard, Doll, for everyone. Avenger, or not. Hero, or not. Everyone struggles with something. It doesn’t make them weak, or lessen their value as a person. It just makes them human.”

At his words, the final walls you’d put up came crashing down. Sobs wracked your body, and the tears streamed down your face. Bucky let you cling to him, let you cry as he placed gentle kisses to your temple and held you tightly.

After a while, your tears subsided and your sobs had dwindled to an occasional sniffle. Still, he held you close.

“I want you to know,” he said softly, “that you are important to this team, to all of us. To me.” The cool fingers of his metal hand gently nudged your chin, beckoning you out of the juncture of his shoulder. “I want you to know that I don’t think less of you, that my opinion of you hasn’t changed a bit. And I want you to know that you’re not alone, Doll, that you’re never alone. That I will always be here for you. No matter what.”

There was no doubt on his face as he said it, and he held your gaze as he brushed a gentle thumb across your chin. “This team loves you, and they think the world of you. I know that each of them would tell you exactly that. I know that they wouldn’t want you to suffer all by yourself. You let us all share our problems with you, so share this with us. Let us help you.”

His brows pinched as his voice got a little quieter, leaning his forehead against yours. “Or at least let me help you, if you’re not ready for that yet.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and a fresh wave of tears welled up. But it was a good kind, the relieved kind. “Okay,” you whispered, “okay.”

He smiled then, a small encouraging one. A little blush appearing on his cheeks, “I love you.”

Your eyes widened, and you blinked up at him. “What?”

“I love you, Doll.”

You knew he did and he knew you did too and had for a while. Neither or you had said it though, stuck in some sort of limbo.

To hear him say it, even after what you had confessed, lifted your heart a bit more.

You knew that your struggle was going to be hard, and that it would have its ups and downs. Some days would be worse, and some would be better. Bucky knew that feeling better than anyone, you realized.

You smiled then, that beautiful bright one that was near blinding. The one Bucky loved the most.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

He kissed you then, soft and gentle, with the fingers of his flesh hand curled into your hair. You knew then and there that Bucky would always have your back. That you could always trust and confide in him without judgment.

And you knew that you’d be okay.

—————

Authors Note:

For those of you who struggle with depression, please know that you are never alone. You are loved and cared for and valued, no matter what. No struggle is less than another, no matter what you come from or what experiences you’ve had or haven’t had. <3

— Ayden

[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.” 

🏷️Tag list:

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

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[byanyan]

just a head's up: while I hesitate to call hiatus of any kind bc I want to give myself the freedom to write when I have the energy/focus/etc., I will just note that I'm gonna be even slower than usual around here for... idk, probably for a bit. I'm in the worst state mentally that I think I've ever actually been in and it's uhhhh. it's not great lmao. writing is my main escape & distraction so I don't want to step away from it but doing anything is hard as fuck rn so I'm really not interested in pressuring myself to get shit done when it comes to the hobby I'm supposed to be having fun with. I'll be slow, I'll be selective, and it's possible I'll be dropping a lot of drafts?? maybe?? OR at least like. temporarily removing a bunch from my drafts (to be added back later) just so the number is less big & overwhelming lmao.

thank u guys for ur patience w me & for writing w my glittery lil creature, I appreciate u all sm 💜

[disdaidal]

I wanna thank my irl friends who follow me here and also my beloved mutuals as well as followers who still send me kind messages and try to interact with me and my stuff even if I'm bad at doing it myself.

Honestly, things haven't been that great with me lately, so... it means a lot to me. Honestly. <3

[kohakhearts]

theres a really. special kind of despair in the uncertainty brought about by moments of success and achievement. the inevitable “what now” of reaching your goals. and i kind of wish someone had warned me how hollow graduating university would feel, tbh

[dreamwinged]

to be so honest im starting to think i really need to see a professional for my social anxiety

[talkorsomething]

I have Got to get more transgender

[thedappleddragon]

Hmm

[milkweedman]

Totally fucked up the order, so am now attempting to recreate it from the pictures that i took of each warp on the board, with the hopes that the 3rd warp will at least be well behaved. If it isnt im gonna need to do another round of towels (or maybe just a test warp) bc i cant be doing this on the blanket commission. Am very very aware of how tangled this warp will be. Only potential saving grace is that imo cotton doesnt tangle anywhere near as badly as wool, so hopefully it wont be too horribly bad.

It is going, though. About halfway done dressing the heddles. Next will be sleying the reed. Hoping to get all the warping done by tomorrow.

[blupengu]

Y’all is Hollow Knight hard or do I just suck because oh my god??

[starstruckpurpledragon]

So my mom tells me the wrong name for the restaurant she wants me to meet her and dad at. I get there. They aren't there. I had said the name of the restaurant back to her and she had confirmed it so I was definitely at the right place. But they should have been there for, like, ten min already.

She told me the wrong restaurant.

I finally got to the right place kinda seething internally though I was polite the whole time I was there. But I knew she wasn't going to apologize for telling me the wrong place. I knew that she was going to instead swear up and down I must have misheard her.

Never mind that she confirmed the restaurant's name when I said it back to her on the phone. Because we hadn't been there in a while and while I'd never had a bad experience there my parents are notorious about swearing to never eat somewhere again and expecting my sister and I to just know by magic that the restaurant is on their shit list for arbitrary reasons.

Anyway, I get there. Mom swears she didn't give me the wrong name. I point out that I said it back to her and the name I said was the place I went to. She mutters something about how I must have misheard. Not her. Me.

And, yeah, thank you to our server for seeing my star wars shirt and making sci fi jokes and doing a Palpatine voice because you made putting up with my mom's inability to acknowledge fault or apologize so much easier to bear.

[demoness-one]

Mm zinc fume poisoning 😳