#but even then I still can count the number of times I’ve been complimented on one hand I think

[jungwonnz]

how can i help you?

feat jay x reader ; genre fluff, meet-cute ; word count ~1k ; warnings none, not proof-read

you work through another boring shift at a jewellery store. then, a handsome man walks in, looking for help.

note this is something that randomly came to me and i couldn't let go of it, so here i am on tumblr writing about it... any feedback and interaction is appreciated! 🫶

“yunjin! could you please help this lovely lady with measuring her ring size?” you called over to your coworker, as you flashed the woman a smile and rushed off to attend to a pair of new customers waiting for assistance, welcoming them with a “how can i help you?”. yunjin quickly scurried past you, swerving to avoid bumping into you.

you worked at the jewellery store pandora, and, like it always was on any saturday, you guys were packed. so much so that you barely had time (or room) to stand still and breathe for a moment. unfortunately, you and your friend yunjin were left alone to take care of all the customers, which meant that you wouldn’t be getting rest anytime soon.

after a few hours near lunchtime, the numbers dwindled down, and you and your friend slouched over the counter, closing your eyes and enjoying the peace. 

“this is probably the busiest we’ve ever been…” yunjin said, her tone exhausted. “i know right… i don’t think i’ve ever seen this many couples at once,” you replied, adding a “wish it was me…” underneath your breath. yunjin looked at you with a half-smile and patted your shoulder in a way of comforting you.

suddenly, you heard footsteps. you and yunjin scrambled to stand up and look presentable for the new customer, with yunjin suppressing a groan of annoyance. you took her by the shoulders and sat her down on a stool, saying “it’s okay, you rest; i’ll take care of this one.” ignoring her protests, you walked over to see your new customer. “hello, welcome to pandora! may i help…”

your words caught in your throat as the man looked up at you. he was probably the most handsome person you’d seen in… well, basically your entire life. he was dressed in a navy blue polo and beige dress pants, a charming smile and the most attractive jawline you’ve ever seen. 

you didn’t even realise you were staring until you heard yunjin cough loudly from the back of the store. you flinched, startled, and turning to look back at her, you knew she could tell what was going on in your head. “this is your chance!” she mouthed to you, giving you a thumbs up. 

you turned back to the man, wanting nothing more than to know his name, and possibly every other detail about him. “sorry about that… are you looking for anything in particular?” you asked, scratching your neck awkwardly.

he laughed a little at your frazzled state, and said “don’t worry about it. i’m looking for a ring that i can gift my mother for her birthday. could you help me? i want to make this perfect for her.” he said with a smile.

you felt butterflies explode in your stomach. his voice sent shocks through you like electricity, and the fact he came to get something for his mother? “oh, he’s so sweet” was the only thing racing through your mind.

you flew into action. “of course i can! do you know her ring size? does she prefer gold or silver? oh and, what about gemstones? we have plenty of options here…” 

after thirty minutes of looking and trying to find the perfect ring, he finally found it. you clapped happily as he made his decision, complimenting the ring and assuring him his mother would love it. while you packed the box, the man looked at you and said, “thank you so much…” his tone indicated he wanted to know your name. you answered “y/n,” with a giddy feeling. he nodded, “beautiful... y/n, you worked really hard to help me…i appreciate it. i’m jay, by the way."

you offered him a genuine smile and replied quickly, “of course, jay! i really hope your mom likes the ring… i would love to know what she thinks of it,” you finished, stumbling over your words and looking away.

jay picked up on your tone, and grinned while saying, “oh really? how about i give you my number then, and i’ll let you know what she says?”

you almost yelled out loud. “oh, yes, of course! i’d like that a lot!” you managed to choke out, with yunjin practically squealing in the corner.

you watched jay type your name into a new contact with a small heart next to it and you swore you were about to faint on the spot. 

you handed him his package, and thanked him while he told you he looked forward to seeing you again soon. the moment he stepped out of the store, you ran toward yunjin and she hugged you, screaming about what she had just witnessed.

you both jumped up and down like little kids, all your fatigue from before erased. “i told you this would happen! urgh, you should’ve seen the stupid lovesick look on your face… and the way he was flirting with you?! insane, i tell you…” yunjin talked animatedly, waving her hands around to get her point across while you stood there with a wide smile on your face.

later on that day, when you were finally home from your shift and comfortable in bed, your phone lit up.

jay🧐 [11:03 pm]

hi y/n, this is jay!

my mom really liked the ring. she thought it was perfect, and when i told her about the store associate who helped me so much, she told me to definitely thank you.

soo… can i thank you by taking you out to dinner tomorrow?

y/n [11:05 pm]

aww, i’m so glad she liked it 🥰🥰

i would love to go to dinner with you!! i’ll see you tomorrow, then? 

jay🧐 [11:06 pm]

perfect! see you tomorrow :)

unconsciously, you began kicking your feet as you rushed to tell yunjin about the new development in your love life, your happiness evident by the way you were practically beaming.

and soon, you fell asleep with that very same smile on your face, excited to see jay again.

[thetriumphantpanda]

If you're still taking prompts, how about "you can kiss me you know" with Javi G? Please

I really like your writing and I don't think many people write for him. Thank you for sharing your writing.

You have NO IDEA how happy I am that someone requested Javi G. I love this man and I would easily lay down my life for him, so thank you! 🫶🏼 There's no actual smut in this one, just romantic, puppy-dog Javi G, but if enough people are interested I might do a part two with smut? Let me know what y'all think.

And thank you for being such a darling and complimenting my writing, I'm so glad you enjoy it! 😚

Pairing | Javi Gutierrez x Female Reader

Word Count | 657

The ocean was calm as you looked out at it, the low evening sun casting a mixture of orange and pink across it. Even when the waves broke below you it was calm, the warm evening breeze doing nothing to cool your hot skin. 

“You look beautiful in the sunset.” Javi mused, his hand rested at your back, he’d just filled up your champagne glass with more liquid which was pooling delightfully in your stomach. 

Javi Gutierrez was not your usual type. Sure, he was handsome and absolutely loaded with money, but he was soft and gentle and a little withdrawn. That was until you’d asked him about his favourite film, and he’d launched off about all sorts, talking with his hands with his face lighting up like you’d given him the world. 

As first dates went it had been nice enough. He’d insisted on dinner at his lavish home, you’d sat out on the terrace as a waiter brought a full three courses from the kitchen. You’d drank far too much champagne to be sensible so had said yes when he asked if you wanted to try shooting. It had gone as well as could have been expected, with shots ringing off into the water and the two of you laughing with a promise that Javi would try and teach you if you wanted to come back. You’d been here hours, longer than you’d ever usually spend with someone on a first date and the closest he’d gotten to kissing you was to hold your hand as he watched you eat your dessert. 

You turned to him and smiled, his shirt was a dark orange colour, loose-fitting with short sleeves and a frankly obscene number of buttons undone, showing off a fair bit of his golden chest, which you couldn’t help but focus on now the champagne was doing most of the talking for you. 

“So do you.” You’d replied with a smile, watching as a soft blush creeped onto his face. 

“I’ve had a really lovely evening with you,” He spoke, putting a bit more pressure on your back, “I hope I’ll be able to see you again?” There was a hopeful look in his eyes that you couldn’t bear to break, and you found yourself not wanting to. 

“Of course, you promised to teach me how to shoot after all.” 

He smiled and for a second you thought this would be the moment he kissed you, but instead he picked up his glass of champagne and drank. 

“You can kiss me, you know?” 

His head snapped to look at you, his body turning so he was leant against the wall on one elbow. 

“You’d like me to kiss you?” He asked, those puppy-dog eyes you’d fallen for right at the start boring holes into your soul. 

“Yes Javi, in fact if you don’t I think I might die.” 

He smiled at you, shuffling himself closer before cupping your face in his hands and doing just that. He pressed his lips to yours softly and you melted, letting your hands come up to rest on his biceps as you moving to press your body into him. His scent was overwhelming, masculine and sweet and fruity all at the same time, you made a mental note to find out what cologne he wore because you were going to always need this in your senses, even when he wasn’t there. 

You opened your mouth against his, feeling as he did the same and then his tongue was on yours, molding into one as they tangled together. You could taste the champagne and the fruity ice cream from earlier in his mouth which made your tongue more urgent, wanting to soak up everything you could about this man. 

He pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours as you let out a breathless sigh, “Would you like to go inside?” He asked. 

“Only if inside means to your bedroom.” 

[jungwnies]

syn ' he’s your cocky orchestra partner, what happens when practice turns into something more? genre ' school rivals to lovers romance req ' yes

fem!reader x rival!jake

word count ' 1.2k warning ' smut

notes ' thanks for reading & thank you so much for all the support even when i'm on my short hiatuses? much love mwaaa

심재윤 —

“be serious.” you tell your teacher sitting in the first chair. “i don’t want to do this piece with him as my stand partner.”

your teacher looks at you and laughs, “don’t you trust my judgement sweetie?”

you roll your eyes, “well yes, but i don’t agree with it.”

you teacher sighs, “orchestra isn’t a competition, you both are just as good.”

“i’ve been in the first chair for awhile, i think i’m better.” jake says, cockily.

you roll your eyes at his remark, “oh please, we both know whose the better violinist.”

jake laughs and puts the music sheet on the stand, “make sure to keep up.”

“you cant go presto in this music without learning how to play allegro first.” you tell jake sighing.

“maybe you cant, but i can.” he says beginning to play.

he was good, that was something everyone knew. but the way he was so cocky about it, it was an ick.

you sit down in your seat and put your hand on the sheet of music, “next time, don’t start without me.”

your teacher looks at you and gives you a thumbs up before helping one of the violin two students tune their instrument.

you rosin your bow before fixing your posture and setting the instrument by your collarbone. “ready?” you ask as jake nodded.

- ts -

practice didn’t go too bad, you were able to get through the whole piece making annotations here and there. you begin to pack up your instrument and put the music in the folder, until your teacher stopped you and jake.

“i know you guys hate each other, but you really sounds well south each other when you play.” she compliments. “i do think there can be a little more work done, you guys should work in this piece after school together, and fix the rivalry you have.”

jake laughs, “you’re joking right?”

“it’s important you guys learn how to work together without giving each other the death stare, so no, im not joking.” she tells the two of you smiling.

you look and him and purse your lips, “well… i guess we’re stuck together, buddy!”

jake pulls out his phone and hands it to you, “give me your number, i’ll text you a place we should meet.”

you take his phone and put your number in, saving your contact.

“please try to work it out, everyone can see the tension between you two.” your teacher says sighing, “my two best students, and you guys hate each other”

“hates a strong word.” you tell her laughing. “anyways, have a good day! i’ll see you next class.”

you wave goodbye to her and jake does as well as the two of you walk out of class together and part ways the second you step out of the door.

- ts -

“is this seriously where we are practicing?” you ask looking around. “don’t you think it would be better if we worked in like, the living room?”

jake shrugs, “i think my room is big enough for two, are you scared we’re going to do more than practice?” he asks jokingly.

you roll your eyes, “don’t even go there.”

“why not? scared you’ll fall in love?” he asks leaning in.

you lean back and push him away, “can we just get started.”

he laughs and opens his folder which contained the music sheet. “ready?”

you nod and get into position for the piece.

—

this continued for days, meeting up practicing. to be honest, you guys did grow closer. the rivalry was still there, but he couldn’t say he hated you as a person.

“you guys almost seem like friends.” the teacher says laughing.

your smile turns into a straight face, “we aren’t.”

jake laughs, “just strictly stand partners."

—

what a lie. just strictly stand partners.

"are you sure you want to do this?" jake asks as he hovers over you keeping your hands above your head.

you give him a breathy nod, "yes."

jake goes down and begins to kiss your lips, it wasn't something he thought he'd taste. it wasn't something he though would drive him crazy.

the way he smiled against your lips wasn't something you'd find causing butterflies in your stomach. and it was definitely a weird feelings.

the person you hated now on top of you asking, "does this feel good?" as his hand begins to go down your soaked panties.

but the moans coming from your mouth gave him the answer, "i've never done this before." you admit moaning.

jake smiles, "neither have i."

he continues to kiss you as his hands wandering on your clothed pussy, "can i?" you ask reaching for the button on his pants.

he gives you a nod and you sit up straight pulling down his pants. "do you have protection?" you asks laying back down propping yourself up with your elbows.

jake nods, "just a sec."

he reaches for his violin can and pulls out the condom from the zipper, "don't ask."

you laugh, "in the violin case? really?"

"just shut up and kiss me y/n." he tells you as he goes back down on you with the condom on.

“how did we end up here?” you ask breathily.

“not sure but i guess we can thank our orchestra teacher, right?” jake says with a lightly chuckle.

his cock was hard, and the condom held the bits of precut that was leaking from the tip.

"stop staring, you're making me embarrassed." he admits as you continue to kiss him with your arms wrapped around his neck.

"trust me, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." you tell him as you reach for his hard cock that you begin to stroke up and down.

jake moans lightly as he begins to position himself, the tip of his cock brushed against the lips of your pussy and you throw your head back, "fuck i'm scared." you admit laughing.

"me fucking too." jake says putting his forehead against yours. "ready?" he asks you, lips barely touching.

you give him and nod and feel his length begin to enter you. "fuck." you moan.

you didn't realize how wet you've gotten for him until you realized how easy it was for him to slip it in.

"you're so fucking hot." jake groans as he begins to thrust slowly, "is this okay?"

you give him a nod as pretty moans leave your mouth, "fast...faster.."

jake interlocks his hands with yours as he continues to thrust into you at a steady pace.

"fuck y/n i might come." jake groans as he speeds up a little.

"that's...that's fine..." you tell him moaning.

"but what about you pretty girl?" he asks as he continues to thrust as his quick pace.

"maybe i can guide you when you're done." you moan causing jake to cum into the condom.

"fuck." he breathes out before pulling out.

he plops down next you, "what can i do for you baby?"

you turn to your side facing him and whisper in his ear, "eat me out."

[cheolhub]

UR INVITED 2 CHEOLHUB'S 1ST BDAY BASH!

ABOUT THE EVENT ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

HELLOOOOO! ok first of all, no one comment on my header (unless ur complimenting it 😊), i dropped my art minor after 3 months bc i lack artistic skill and i’ve made it very clear here. NEXT, it’s not MY birthday but cheolhub will officially be a YEAR old on the 26th of august & i wanted to celebrate with a lil sleepover event :> i've had so many ups and downs while running this blog and have almost abandoned it more times than i can count, so i just want to say CHEERS to cheolhub (aka sar aka me) for making it this far <3 i am eternally grateful for every kind message, every piece of feedback, and everyone who has been supporting me and my silly lil blog. i love u guys sm and would’ve been long gone without you T^T <3 i hope you'll join the celebration!! -3- and if this flops, you’ll never hear from me again /j /j /j

i knowww it’s early, but i start uni classes again next week (my last semester, yay 😻) and i wanna have time to do an event T-T

SLEEPOVER DATES ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

this event runs for about two weeks! from sunday, august 13th to sunday, august 27th. any asks sent after august 27th will be deleted!

please note that i’ll still be working on asks (if i have any left) even after the event is closed.

EVENTS ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

！★﹕ᶻ﹐LET'S EAT﹒

☆︎ who's hungry? 👹🍽 request a short (less than 1k) drabble and you shall receive. i will be writing the first 5-10 requests due to my busy uni schedule :3 — choose a prompt (or two) from this prompt list + a member from seventeen, txt or the boyz! [closed] (ik the list isnt numbered, so just copy + paste ur preferred prompt(s) ><)

★︎ mtl for seventeen and txt! [open]

☆︎ hard hours for any group i write for! [refer to my guidelines to see who i write for] [open]

！★﹕ᶻ﹐ TIME 4 SELF CARE﹒[open]

★︎ let's do the things that make us happy! what makes us happier than being delusional and horny? you guessed it! being shipped with a hottie 😻 — this is the SHIP GAME + i’ll give you a silly little trope to kickstart ur epic romance

☆︎ OR opt for a personalized moodboards or playlists based off the vibes you give off! (mutuals can get both a moodboard and playlist if they’d like bc i would diy for all of u -3- just say u want both so i know<3333)

note: anonymous senders, please send me a few bits of info like your mbti, ult group and/or bias (does not have to be a group i stan!), star sign (big three if you know it), favorite color, etc. basically anything you want to share + one of the options above. mutuals can ask for any of the above, but providing info is totally optional!!

！★﹕ᶻ﹐WANNA PLAY A GAME?﹒[open]

☆︎ q&a!

ask me anything! favorite movie, how i got into writing, what i do when i’m not writing, why i only ult leaders etc. but please nothing too personal!

★︎ my opinions on literally ANYTHING!

☆︎ ask me for fic recs or give me fic recs!

★︎ fuck, marry, kiss (not kill bc i do not condone violence… not on here at least /lh)

☆︎ would you rather

note: you can send as many of these as you’d like :p i like answering them <3

RULES ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

everything for this event will be tagged under #[ birthday bash ! ] you can block the tag to avoid seeing the posts!

please make sure to get your ask in within the time frame (aug 13th-27th)

minors, please please please do not interact!

be respectful and patient! — the drabbles, mtls & hard hours may take longer for me to get through, but i’ll try my absolute hardest to get them done in a timely manner <3

when sending an ask, be sure to mention the event so i can differentiate between those and my regular asks :)

have fun! ⭐️⭐️

[sentientcave]

And They Were Roommates

Got brainworms from Ceilidho talkin' about Fem!Soap and wrote out a few scenarios, and landed on this one as my favourite. Maybe personal trainer Soap and hot woman complimenting you in a dive bar bathroom Soap will get written about later on.

Part 1

Part 2 Here

(Fem!SoapxFemReader) ~2.2k words

Alcohol mention, but no other major flags at this point. (A few jokes about axe murderers) But also MDNI because this is an 18+ blog and there will probably be NSFW content in future parts

You had put an ad up online.

Your best friend had moved in with her boyfriend, leaving you with more apartment than you could afford. You had enough savings to get you through till the next month, but things were going to be dicey if you didn’t find someone to take over Fern’s half of the rent soon.

You’d had plenty of responses, mostly from men that gave you creepy vibes, even through digital means. You’d actually met with only one person, and she was allergic to cats, which made her a no go.

She’d been nice enough, though. If it really came down to it, maybe Fern would take Red Herring. She did love that fat orange bastard. And so do you. The thought of giving him up, even to Fern, doesn’t sit right.

Red meows loudly through the door as your key scrapes in the lock. You nudge him away with your foot while you enter the apartment, wary of any escape attempts. You feed him so he stops yelling at you, and boil water so you can feed yourself some instant ramen for dinner, and boot up your laptop to check the ad again.

A few more creepy responses, one of which is just a slightly blurry dick pic. You delete them. One that looks promising.

>Hey! I’m interested in the room if it’s still available! Can we meet soon? I’m a military gal and I’m being deployed again next week and I already gave notice at the last rat-hole I was renting. Seemed like 60 days was plenty of time for apartment hunting 60 days ago, but I haven’t found anything lol. Hopefully we get along! You can give me a call any time in the next few days, and we can set up a meet’n’greet. Thanks a bunch! Jamie MacTavish

Her number is in brackets below that, next to the soap emoji, for whatever reason.

No sense waiting around. You call the number right away.

“Hello?” The voice is a woman’s, a dusky alto, which is a good first sign.

“Hi, Jamie? I’m calling about the apartment. Or, um, from the apartment.” You give her your name as an after thought, feeling silly that you hadn’t led with that.

“Yaldy! I was hopin’ ye’d call. I’ve got a friend I can move in with if it comes down to it, but I really don’t want to. He lives in a worse rat hole than I do. Are ye busy now? I’ll buy ye dinner if you like, just for the short notice and the trouble.”

Anything would be better than ramen for dinner a second night in a row. “Yeah, alright. There’s a decent pub down the street, Keeler’s? It’s close so I can give you an apartment tour if you pass the ‘not a murderer’ vibe check.”

There's a beat of silence. “Does killin’ people in the line of duty count?” she asked. “Because, er, I have. But I’m not like, prone to doin’ that kind of thing in my spare time.”

You think about it a moment. State sanctioned violence does feel different than personal time violence, although you're pretty sure that speaks to some sort of unaddressed bias. Something to think about. “I appreciate the honesty, at least.”

She laughed. “I can meet ye at yer pub in half an hour. That work for ye?”

“Yeah. That works.”

“Great. I’ll text you a picture of me so ye know who tae look for. See you soon.”

You get the text a minute after you hang up. A picture of a gorgeous woman with big smile and bright blue eyes, the sides of her head shaved, the rest of it left long and braided back from her face. She looks normal enough.

You get ready and head out, texting Fern to let her know where you’d gone, just in case Jamie actually was a murderer in her spare time.

Jamie’s already there when you get to the pub, sitting at the bar with a pint, watching the door intently, her leg bouncing. You give her a little wave, and she beams at you. She’s even hotter in real life, wearing tight, ripped up jeans that cling to her muscular thighs, and a tight black tank-top under a cropped leather jacket. She has almost no jewelry, other than the dog tags around her neck and the silver hoops in her ears. She looks, well, normal. Friendly.

You go up and introduce yourself, earning a firm handshake. She’s strong.

“Hi!” she says excitedly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jamie, but my friends call me Soap. I’d tell ye why, but it’s classified.”

“Is it really?”

“No. But it’s fun to say.” She flags down the bartender. “A pint for my friend here, if you don’t mind. You want to grab a booth? Or stay up at the bar?”

You look around, and there’s a few empty booths, but it’s early yet, and they tend to fill up quickly. “Let’s move. If we stay up here the single dads are going to start hitting on us.”

"We are a couple of dolls, aren't we?" She flashed another big smile at the bartender as he set a second pint out. "We're movin' to a table, if ye don't mind."

"No problem, love," he says, obviously besotted already. "I'll send Jenny around to take your order."

"Thanks, pal. Appreciate it."

You pick up the pint and follow her over to a booth, sliding in on the opposite side.

"So, you said you're military?"

"Ah am. SAS no less. Best of the bloody best. Not many jobs where ye get tae blow things up awl the time." She sheds her jacket, revealing impressively muscled arms. "I could just live on base, if things don't work out here, just so ye ken. No pressure on ye. But I hate stayin' on base when I don't have to. It's the communal showers. Most of the lads are, well, lads. Gotta shower in the middle of the night, and I keep bumpin' into my LT when I do. And he said I could move in with him too. I’m in a rush but I willnae be homeless, so ye don’t need to worry about me if you dinnae think we’ll get along."

You wince in sympathy. "That sounds terrible. I don't think I'd ever be comfortable showering in front of other people."

"Is naw so bad, if it's someone ye like seein' naked. But most of em are munters anyway. Wouldnae mind so much if more of 'em looked like you." She winked over the edge of her pint glass and took a swig.

You laugh at her little joke. She's fun, and you already feel at ease with her. She tells you about her old rat hole apartment, and a little about living on base, although she's a bit vague on the details of her actual job, beyond blowing things up.

She asks you about your work, and you tell her about the used bookshop you work at down the road. You're basically the only employee, and it's usually not too busy, although it can be annoying when you get a rush in the middle of pricing 'new' books. But it pays the rent, more or less. You talk a bit about Fern, and about Red Herring too.

"I love cats," she said excitedly. "Never been able to keep one, bein' away so much. LT had a dog, and he was awlright, but I'm definitely more of a cat girl. Got bit by a few too many pups in my day."

"Well, Red's a real love bug. Once we're done here you can meet him. I think we're going to get along fine."

"Och, really? Just like that, aye? Thought I'd have to work harder."

"Honestly, I thought I was going to have to accept some weirdo or give poor old Red away. You're a much better fit than I expected to find. I think we could be friends."

Her blue eyes track something behind you and narrow slightly. "Well, I'm holdin' ye to that. We're about to be accosted by my lads. Don't let them scare ye." She shoves her plate across the table into the spot next to you and clambers out of the booth. "Oi, what're you munters doin' here? I'm gettin' interviewed for an apartment. Dinnae need you scarin' my girl."

You look behind you, spotting a giant wearing a skull-print balaclava, and a more regular-sized (though no less muscular) black man with a brilliant smile. "We wanted to make sure she wasn't an axe murderer," he says pleasantly.

"Or a chainsaw murderer," the giant adds.

Soap cuts him off before he can take the seat beside you. "Over there," she orders, pointing at the opposite bench, where she'd been sitting. "I'm not lettin' you box her in." She grimaces at you apologetically as she drops into the spot beside you. Her thigh presses against yours for a moment, before you shift further down the bench. "They're sweet, in their own way. Think I need lookin' after. The big guy's Ghost, or LT. This handsome pain in the arse is Gaz. Don't let him sweet talk ye intae callin' him Kyle unless you want him tae put yer ankles up by yer ears. Made that mistake before."

"You don't have to bring that up every time you introduce me to a woman," Gaz says, clearly exasperated.

"I do. How else are they gonna know to call you for a good time?" She smacks his hand away from her plate when he reaches for it. "Oi! Order your own chips ye bastard."

"I only want a couple," Gaz protests.

"Ye always say tha' and ye always lie. Ah umnae fallin' for it again."

"You can have a couple of mine," you offer. "I wasn't going to finish them anyway."

"When do we get to see the place?" Ghost asked.

"Ye don't, unless yer carryin' boxes for me. I willna ask her to let three strangers in her home when she's only just met me."

"Well I guess we're helpin' ye move," Ghost said. "Was gonna leave it all to Price."

"Lazy cunts. Ne’er around when there’s work tae be done.”

“I was gonna help,” Gaz protests. “I already told you that.”

“And I did tell you that you could move into my place if you didn’t find somethin’ in time,” Ghost points out. “We’re not all bad.”

“Well, they’re not bad lads tae have watchin’ yer back in a fire-fight,” Soap admits. “But they dinnae know how to be normal about anythin’.”

“Are you supposed to be the normal one?” Ghost asks.

“Aye. And I willnae have you say otherwise in front of my new friend.”

She finishes eating long before you do, with the speed and gusto of a woman who often has to defend her plate against hungry scavengers. Gaz, true to Soap’s complaint, eats the majority of your chips, although he does thank you and give you a big, wide smile, the sort that could sell someone a bridge. He’s definitely a charmer.

Soap asks for the bill while you’re finishing up. You reach for your purse, but she puts a hand on yours and gives you an intense blue stare. “No, kitty. I told ye I was buyin’ ye dinner, I’ll no’ let ye make me a liar, especially when Gaz ate half your plate.”

God she’s strong. You’re not sure that you could shake her off to insist even if you tried. “Alright. I just—”

“Oh I ken. But I wouldna offer if I didna mean it. I’m a woman of her word.” She pays with cash, and offers you a hand up and out of the booth. She points a warning finger at her friends. “And dinnae follow us, ye creepy bastards.”

They laugh, like they hadn’t followed her to the pub in the first place.

“They really do mean well,” Soap says, linking her arm with yours as you step out onto the street. “But they’ve go’ a bad habit of thinkin’ they dinnae need to respect my space just ‘cause we’ve all spent nights crammed into one room sharin’ cots. I think if the captain had his way we’d all live in his house and sleep in a big fuck-off pile like dogs.”

“Sound a bit claustrophobic.”

“Aye. Ye understand why I’m so eager to make this work with ye, kitty-cat. If I move in with LT it’s just a matter of time before Price comes over tae help us fix somethin’ and says ‘Oh, I dinny know why ye both stay in this shitehole. Whyna stay with me a while, till we find ye somethin’ better?’ And then before we know it we’re all sleepin’ in the same bed and usin’ the same toothbrush.”

You giggle, hoping that's just a joke. “That’s gross.”

“I ken! Horrible men, they are. I need some girl time before I go mad.” She squeezes your arm and knocks her head against yours gently. “We’re goin’ tae be best friends in no time, kitty. I wish I wasna goin’ away so soon.”

“You haven’t even seen the apartment yet!”

“Och, tha’s a formality. I was more wurried about us gettin’ along, kitty. The apartment doesna matter all that much, so long as it’s got a workin’ shower and a place for my bed. If I pass Mr. Herring’s sniff test, I’ll give ye cash on the spot, aye? For next month an’ half of this one, since you’d be lettin' me move in before the first.”

And, well, it’s hard to think of a good reason to say no.

[shadowbriar]

Regulus Black - Supermassive Black Hole II

Pairing : (F/M) || Regulus Black x Selwyn!Reader Word Count : 6.4k Warning : Curse words. Arguments. Mention of blood and unconscious SH. Please let me know if I've missed anything else. Synopsis : A simple arrangement turned into an everlasting one as two naïve children try to figure out their heart. Notes : This is the longest fic I've posted yet, I hope you wouldn't be bored midway. If you'd like to be tagged for the next chapters, please comment or reblog so I can add you to the tag list. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

↞ Part I

If there is ever a day that Regulus hated more than most it would this very day when she turned sixteen. The calendar sitting on his bedside table stood proud, almost looking as if it was rubbing its numbers on his face. He stares at it with bitter glare, knocking the innocent item off of its position. He need not anything to remind him of the dreadful day. He couldn't forget her birthday even if he tried.

And he painfully had, indeed, tried.

Now sitting at the Slytherin Common Room with a book that failed to distract his mind, Regulus tries to put out his most nonchalant veneer. The act often fools his two best friends so he wasn't much worried he'll be called out for it. The only thing he has to worry about now is the internal feud happening inside him.

He knew that being sixteen meant that she would have a long line of gentlemen waiting for her hand. The silly tradition carried by the families of Sacred 28 to marry their children and keep their blood line pure was something Regulus felt proud of once, yet now seem to have loathed it more than anything. His parents, though not as outspoken and eager as he expected them to be, have also mentioned their intention of finding Regulus a wife. However, given the fact that he's the second born, his parents' focus was still heavily weighing on Sirius. Something that he feels grateful about.

"I think I'll ask my parents about it when we get back home." Rosier said, his cheeks looking slightly red "My family might not be as close to the Selwyns, but we're not that shabby of a family. I could still shoot my shot with her, don't you think?"

Regulus tried to hide his clenching jaw, resting his hand to his neck as he gave a small nod.

"Yeah, you'll do just fine." Crouch says, encouraging his friend "So long as Regulus here doesn't make his move, I'd say you're the only promising contender there is. I mean, who else is she going to marry? The Lestranges are old, Bulstrodes are a bunch of twats, and I doubt her family would let her marry a Malfoy. Their cocky selves would be the last thing the Selwyns would want for their only daughter."

"My brother is still out there, unbetrothed." Regulus says, eyes still glued on the leaves of his book "He could court her."

Crouch scoffs, "Highly doubt it."

"Why?" Regulus asks, this time looking up to see his friend's reaction "You don't think Sirius is decent enough to marry her?"

"Your brother doesn't like her like that, Reg." Crouch says "If he does he would've courted her a long time ago. You Blacks have been close to the Selwyns for years. If he ever had any interest in her he would've made his move already and yet, he hasn't."

Regulus remains silent. The arguments Crouch gave only made him want to punch the wall harder. As logical as his reasoning is, Regulus certainly did not need Crouch to entertain Rosier's intention. A sense of resentment is brewing inside him whenever he hears Rosier compliments or merely talks about her. He knew full well the extent of admiration his best friend has for her and yet he still hates it. No matter how genuine Rosier's feelings is, no one can advance with her.

No one but him.

He knew just how much of a coward and selfish bastard he was, for loving someone in silence yet acting as if he barely recognised her. But this persona is all he's known for years. This act is the only one he could put out around her. Perhaps this bitterness stems from the jealousy over how easy it is for his brother to be close with her, to make her laugh and cry in happiness. Growing up together meant that he’d seen first hand how things went with ease for her and Sirius and he couldn’t help but to feel envious about it. Regulus loves his brother dearly, just not when he's around her.

"Right, so it's settled then." Rosier said triumphantly, catching Regulus' attention once more "Now let's all pray to the seven hells that no one is sweet talking her parents yet."

Rosier's words set Regulus' skin ablaze. Sure, Rosier is a decent man, someone with a bright future who came from a respected family, but Regulus couldn't help but feel far superior to him. If only he could shed just a layer of his ego and talk to her, give barely half of the effort Rosier was so determined to do, he knew that he would have a bigger chance of being with her.

But is that what she wants? Would she want him to advance with his feelings? She's never shown any comfort whenever he's around. If anything, she looks like she was tormented whenever she breathed the same air as him. She was never as free and casual compared to when Sirius was around, so what exactly would be his one safety net that she would not reject and stomp his heart to the ground?

The noise of her friends congratulating her as she arrives at the Common Room made Regulus look up. An unconscious smile tugs in the corner of his lips, watching her being overwhelmed with the attention and congratulatory greetings. He wonders if there would ever be a time when he could be one of those people, surrounding her and celebrating her birthday with no awkwardness nor worry poisoning his brain.

Regulus could feel the couch shifted on his side. Rosier was already on his feet, approaching her with a nervous gesture. He greets her, wishing her a happy birthday before pulling her for a hug. Regulus scoffed, since when were those two close?

Trying to diffuse the anger boiling inside, Regulus turns back to his book. It was to no use, he knew it. There's nothing in this world that could distract his mind from her and the not subtle approach Rosier is taking but he couldn't show his jealousy. It's not like she was hers to begin with.

He could hear how Crouch begins to talk about her possible betrothal and Regulus has to gather every willpower to not stand up and deck his friend. He wanted them to shut up, both Crouch and Rosier. And it didn't help that Crouch tried to involve him in the conversation, asking his opinion about how the three of them could be her eligible bachelor, which of course Regulus could only answer with a hum.

“Don’t you want to say happy birthday to Selwyn, Regulus?” Rosier asked.

Regulus sighs before putting his book down and looking up. He wanted to take her hand and steal her away from his friends, as furthest as they could go. Now that she’s standing next to Rosier, he could see just how plausible their reunion would be. Though he’s still much better than Rosier in plenty of disciplines, Regulus has to admit that his best friend is an appropriate suitor for her.

And so he forced a smile, “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” She replied short, not showing any sense of impression “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.”

Regulus averts his eyes back to his book, hiding the slight disappointment of her sour response. Perhaps he could’ve been more friendly with his words or be more genuine with his smile, but it’s hard to show his true intention when the two people he wanted to hex to death were standing on her side. He wanted to slap the smug off of Crouch’s face and push Rosier away from her. The sight of her being close to the opposite gender irritates him to the bone.

The words he’s reading suddenly make no sense, evaporating into thin air before it could ever be registered in his brain. He wonders if she was going to meet Sirius. What kind of gift has his brother prepared for her? Would she pull his brother for a hug after he handed it to her? If Regulus were to give her a present himself, would she have accepted it? Would she respond to him the same way she would to Sirius?

Regulus let out a small sigh. All these questions feel like a labyrinth with no exit. Every wonder, what ifs and scenarios running across his mind had turned into a new form of air that though it hurt him, Regulus couldn’t imagine passing a day without it. If only he could read her mind.

—-

Regulus has been running around the castle for almost half an hour now. His skin was covered in sweat, cheeks slightly red from exhaustion. He runs his hand through his hair, feeling rather desperate to find his brother. He needs to make haste before things get a little bit too late for him to salvage.

“Sirius!” He called, running to his brother who was still in his quidditch robe “We need to talk.”

“Later, Reg.” The older boy dismissed “I need to take a shower first.”

“Now.”

Sirius stares at his younger brother strangely. The state Regulus was in was making him alert. Regulus has never looked so unkempt. His eyes were pleading, something Sirius hasn’t seen in a very long time. Understanding the urgency, Sirius nods and follows his little brother to the quieter side of the quidditch field.

“You need to marry Selwyn.” Regulus said with no warning.

“What?” Sirius responded in surprise, widening his eyes “What are you talking about?”

“You need to ask for Selwyn's hand in marriage.” Regulus repeated, his eyes still showing the same despair “I’ll help talk to Mother and Father though I know they would have no problem with you marrying her. We have to owl them fast-”

“Wait, hold on. Where are all these coming from?”

Regulus seethes, hopelessness bleeding out of him, “It doesn’t matter where it’s coming from. What matters is you’re marrying her.”

“I’m not going to marry Selwyn just because you told me to!” Sirius argues, feeling confused and lost at his brother’s urgent demand “What in the bloody hell is going on, Regulus?”

Regulus wanted to pull every single strand of his hair off of his scalp. He paces back and forth, biting on his fist. He knew just how frenzied he’s looking right now. The bewildered look on Sirius’ face is a clear sign of how mental he’s become. If only he could be transparent to his brother.

“Rosier is going to ask for her hand.” Regulus said, trying to gather his composure “He’s owled his parents to talk to hers. I heard him talk to Crouch earlier and from the look of it, it seems like the Selwyns are giving him a green light.”

“Right.” Sirius squinted his eyes, still not following the apocalyptic reasoning behind Regulus’ actions “What’s the problem with that?”

“The problem with that, Sirius, is that Rosier is going to marry Selwyn!” Regulus yells in despair “How can you stand there and ask what’s the problem with Rosier wanting to marry her? It’s Selwyn! How can you let her marry Rosier?”

Sirius shakes his head, completely lost as to where the conversation is going, “What’s so bad about Rosier? Isn’t he one of your pals?”

“Yes, he’s one of my closest friends but that’s beside the point, alright! The point is that Selwyn can’t marry Rosier.”

“So she should marry me?”

Regulus nods, “Yes, she should marry you.”

“Why?”

Regulus closed his mouth, trying to find the right words to utter.

“Why should I marry her, Reg?”

“Because she likes you.”

Sirius raised his brows, “And how do you know this? Did she tell you herself?”

“No.” He answered, feeling cornered “Look, I can’t give you the answer you’re looking for but you have to marry her, alright? She can’t marry Rosier or any other guy. Just- Just marry her, Sirius, please.”

Sirius stares at his brother with a perplexed expression, still trying to make sense of the words he’s just uttered. None of it was making any sense. Why would it be so bad for her to marry Rosier? What’s so wrong about him? And why does it have to be Sirius to be the one to marry her instead?

“Look, brother,” Sirius sighs, coming close to him and places a hand to his shoulder “I understand that you care about her, I do too, but this doesn’t seem to be something we should meddle with. Whoever she or her parents choose has nothing to do with us.”

Regulus remains quiet.

“Honestly, Regulus. If you don’t want to see her marry anyone else then why don’t you go ask her to marry you? Why do you have to point fingers at me?”

Sirius’ question felt like an arrow piercing through his chest. Of course he’s thought of marrying her, to be the one asking for her hand. To marry her would be a dream come true for Regulus. The idea of waking up in the morning beside her, spending their lazy days, and growing old together was something Regulus would kill to achieve. But given their history, such a dream feels too good to be true and if there is anyone who could make her happy, it would be Sirius, not Regulus.

“I can’t make her happy.” Regulus reasoned, his voice barely above a whisper “But you can. I’ve never seen her more joyful than when she was with you. Don’t you think she deserves to be with someone who could make her happy?”

“Regulus,” Sirius sighs, trying his best to give an understanding to his panicked brother “I can’t make her happy the way a husband should. And I agree with you, she deserves someone who could make her happy. She deserves much more than that, but that person isn’t me. I’m not the one she should be marrying.”

The younger boy remained quiet. Sirius doesn't understand the severity of the condition they’re in. How could he stand there and not feel the slightest terror of the chance of her marrying the wrong man? Doesn’t he want what’s best for her? And what would’ve been best for her if not Sirius?

“Regulus-”

“So you won’t marry her?” He cuts Sirius’ words “You’re not going to ask her to marry you?”

Sirius frowns, shaking his head, “No.”

“Fine.” Regulus nods, turning his heels.

“Regulus, where are you going?” Sirius shouts, his words not welcomed by his brother “Don’t do things you’ll regret later, Reg!”

Regulus’ steps are now filled with seethe. He’s never felt more angry and disappointed at Sirius than he is right now. Worry is still poisoning his mind, making his head turn hazy. She can’t marry Rosier, he can’t make her happy. What does he know about making her smile? Does he even know what her favourite flowers are? Regulus highly doubts it. But if Rosier isn’t good enough, then who else could court her?

—-

“Selwyn, a word.”

Regulus licks his lip in nervousness. The strange look she’s showing was watering his confidence. Well, it wasn’t exactly confidence that’s making him bold enough to approach her. However, a second ago he still had the slightest assurance that, at the very least she would say yes to the proposition he’s going to offer. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Once he sees that she is getting up from her seat, Regulus quickly turns on his heels and leads her outside. His heart was beating fast. The fastest he’s ever felt and he fears that it would give up any second now. He tries his best to maintain a decent composure, curling his fists into a ball as he tries to piece coherent words into his head. For someone who’s always been articulate, Regulus has now found himself at the loss of words.

“Will you spill your words or am I only being called to watch you pace back and forth, Regulus?” She says with a baffled expression “What is it, is everything alright?”

“Date me.”

Regulus wanted to facepalm himself. The two words rolled out of his tongue unexpectedly. He could’ve given her a head start, give her one or two sentences of explanation before heading straight to his proposition. But what exactly can he explain to her? That he’s desperate and scared that she would marry someone else? That he’s scared she would end up and marry Rosier? No, he can’t say that. It would only ruin the very least strands of friendship they have.

Her mouth was agape, eyes widened as he stared at him as if he’d just grown an extra limb, “Come again?”

“Please don’t make me repeat it.”

Despair was apparent in his eyes. He could only hope that she could see through his strugglesome self that couldn’t fully express his true intention and say yes. He prays that his eyes could tell her everything his mouth could not utter. They’ve been close for years, surely she could tell one or two things about him better than anyone else.

“Yeah, not funny, Regulus.” She says, rolling her eyes “Is this some kind of silly bet you made with Rosier or Crouch?”

Regulus’ jaws tensed at the mentioning of his friends, “No.”

“Then why exactly would you come to me and say those words?”

“Because I like you.”

His mouth felt dry right after he laid out his cards. Sure it wasn’t the most romantic way to express his feelings, but it was as good as it could get. It was the most honest reason he could give her. He likes her. Perhaps a little bit too much for it to ever be healthy. He wanted to tell her that it was her that he would always think of last before he drifted off to sleep and the first he would think of when he opened his eyes in the morning. But given the circumstances, perhaps he could dive in further with his details later when things are more within control.

Yet perhaps he wouldn’t be able to as she rolled her eyes and turned her heels, “I don’t have time for this, Regulus.”

Regulus gulped. His worst nightmare finally came true.

“So is that a no, then?” Regulus asked, stopping her pace “Do you not want to date me?”

“No, I don’t want to date you.” She says, turning herself back to face him.

“Why not?” His brows are now knitted, confused and looking slightly offended.

“Because, Regulus,” She answers with a long sigh of exasperation “Not everyone in this castle finds you attractive.”

Her words strike him down like lightning. As if the day wasn’t nightmarish already, she just has to continue and rub it on his face as she’s never seen him that way. What was he thinking? The confidence he once had was shredded, completely pulverised as she now stands by him with a nonchalant gesture. She was rejecting him and stomping his heart to the ground.

Regulus clears his throat, “So you have someone else you fancy then?”

She remains quiet, eyes still glued on his.

Right, of course. If he had to make a wild guess, that lucky git would be none other than his brother, he’s sure of it. The way Sirius is able to make her laugh must’ve been the principal cause. No one has ever been able to make her look as radiant and euphoric. What exactly could Regulus do to compete with that?

“Very well.” Regulus says, taking her silence as his confirmation “I’m sorry to have caused you some inconveniences. Let’s pretend the last twenty minutes didn’t happen.”

Unable to spend another second there, Regulus quickly turned and walked away. He could physically hear his heart breaking with each step. What exactly was he thinking? That she would just say yes and date him? In what universe would she ever reciprocate his feelings? She’s never looked at him twice, even when Sirius wasn’t around. The chance he was so confident to have was nothing but mere illusion. He’s never had a chance with her. Never.

—-

To say last night was agonising would be an understatement. Regulus couldn't sleep, knowing that he’s burned the bridges between them. He shouldn’t have said a word. He shouldn’t have asked her to date him. He shouldn’t have confessed his feelings. Now he’s got nothing left to keep. He was sure that she would never want to see him again, as if their limited interaction over the years wasn’t already tormenting him.

Sirius was right, he shouldn’t have done things out of haste. Now look at the damage he’s caused. There’s nothing left for him to safe, nothing for him to fix. He’s lost her completely over some dumb confession he could’ve done better at.

“Regulus,” She called, making her presence known “We need to talk.”

Regulus looked up, swallowing his saliva at the sight of her. He certainly didn’t expect her to find him at the library, breaking his train of thought of the disaster he caused yesterday, “About?”

“You know what about.”

He sighs and puts his book down, gesturing to her to proceed. Perhaps this is his chance to salvage whatever is left for him to pick up. Maybe he could come up with a better explanation that would save her from a marriage, especially from Rosier. However the look on her face was giving him signs that things would not go as easy as he would like it to be.

“What in the seven hells were you doing yesterday?” She snapped in a hushed volume “Were you drunk? Did someone spike you with some tonic?”

“No, I was fine.” He answers, not wanting her to think that his intention was anything close to some joke or silly prank “I only wanted to know if you wanted to date me, is all.”

“Why?”

“Because,” 

Regulus pauses, biting his lower lip as if debating to continue his words. Should he tell her the truth? Should he tell her that he fears of her marrying Rosier? But what would he answer when she asks why? That he loves her too much to see her be with someone that he knew wouldn’t make her happy? Would she believe his words? She didn’t even seem to be much convinced of his confession yesterday, what would make this one truth give a different outcome?

And so he resorted to the one thing he’s good at, lying, “My parents are arranging me to marry Greengrass.”

Her brows rose, stunned at the new information spilled.

“I was wondering if you’d like to date me so I can stall more time before a marriage happens.” He continued to lie, eyes not looking at her in an attempt to not have his false words caught “Sirius has made it clear that he has no interest in getting married soon, especially with anyone my parents chose for him, so my parents turned to me and arranged the marriage. They fear that I might rebel and follow my brother’s missteps.”

There was a brief silence. Regulus still wouldn’t dare to look up, afraid that one look of her would crumble his sheer veneer of lies. He could only pray that she would buy his lie and finally agree to date him. Even if it was a fake one and had to be based on lies, whatever it takes to stall time for her to get married, he would be up for it.

Though he isn’t sure how he would function with such distress.

“Then why did you ask me to date you?” She asks with a soft voice, perhaps trying to understand the situation better “Don’t you think that’s a bit cruel to ask a girl to be their girlfriend when he’s betrothed to another?”

“I thought we could pretend to date each other so my parents would call the arrangement off. I mean, it’s a good proposal, don’t you think? I know your parents must be planning for your arrangement too, so I thought we could just date and make them postpone the arrangements.” He continued, fabricating more lie that he knew would bite him in the arse one day “Assuming that you’re not ready for a marriage too, of course.”

“Then why didn’t you just say so? Why did you have to lie and say that you liked me?”

Regulus gulps, regret filling his eyes once more. Was it really that hard to believe that he really liked her? Even if he was really betrothed to another, it doesn’t diminish the fact that he really does like her. Perhaps the way he carried his words yesterday and the lies he’s giving right now was leading her to a different conclusion.

“So you don’t want to marry Greengrass?”

Regulus shakes his head slowly, “No, I don’t. And I don’t think I ever would want to.”

She taps her fingers to the wooden table. The sound of it was driving Regulus mad. Perhaps he’s taken it too far. He shouldn’t have uttered those lies. He should’ve just apologised and asked for her forgiveness. Who knows what those words would lead them now?

“Look, it was a foolish proposition, I understand. I don’t expect-”

“Fine,” She says short, letting out a long exhale “Let’s do it.”

Regulus raised his brows, “What?”

“I said, let’s do it. It’s a favourable offer for us both, so I’m game.” She says firmly, looking assured “But just so we’re clear, this is business strictly. No emotions, no feelings, what so ever. The second either of us catch it, we’ll tell it to each other and call it off, deal?”

No deal. How could he agree to such a proposition when he’s already so plastered over her? But this is as good as it could get. At least they could have more time to postpone a marriage and hopefully this would water down Rosier’s intention on marrying her. Or any other guy, really. Perhaps one of these days Regulus could muster the courage and ask her to be his wife genuinely.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Regulus says as he takes out his hand for her to shake “Deal.”

—-

Regulus pulled her hand and led her to his compartment. He knew that Rosier and Crouch wouldn’t be joining them today. The news of them dating had spread like wildfires and Regulus could understand the hatred Rosier must be having right now. He quite literally steals his bird right under his nose. He hasn’t shared a word to Rosier and honestly had no intention to. All is well for Regulus so long as he has her by his side. The world could burn into ashes for all he cares.

“Have you owled your parents?” He asks as he takes a seat “Told them about us?”

She nods, “A couple of days ago.”

“And what did they say?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t opened their letters.” She shrugs, plopping into the seat in front of him “Reckon I could just witness their reactions first hand when we arrive.”

Regulus nods, not uttering another word.

He too hasn’t opened any of his parents’ letters. For some reason they have sent him more than the usual and he couldn’t be bothered to find out why. Regulus could only suspect that the news of him dating her was making his parents ecstatic. At least one of their sons is continuing the family tradition. 

Regulus glances at her who’s now looking out of the glass door, watching as students come in and look for their designated compartments. Her face lights up when she sees Sirius, waving at him with that big smile Regulus always feels envious about. Sirius grins back at her, only to have a sour expression when he sees him. He gave a small nod to Regulus before continuing his walk and following his friends away.

Of course his brother was pissed. He’s told Sirius about their fake relationship and as expected, Sirius was beyond angry at the news. He couldn’t believe how deceitful Regulus’ decision is, to limit her from finding her true match. If only Regulus would be honest to his brother about his true intention, perhaps Sirius wouldn’t be as angry and would understand where he’s coming from. Yet he didn’t and the half answered questions only made Sirius believe in the worst of him.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You know what.” She says, sounding irritated “Must you really ask questions you know the answer to? It doesn’t make you seem cool, you know. It makes you look like a twat.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, “Why are you asking me? Ask Sirius, he’s the one who seems to have a problem with us being together.”

She shows an annoyed look before turning her eyes back outside.

Regulus licks his lower lip. The fake dating has certainly given them more interactions yet they’re far from how he would've wanted it to be. He knew that he could have acted less of an arse and been more open to her, but the guilt of keeping her so selfishly when it was clear that she didn't want to be anywhere close to him was eating him alive. Everytime she was by his side, the fear of her finding out that he was deceiving her would haunt him. He wouldn’t know what he would do if she ever finds out and hates him. He would rather cast himself the killing curse than to live with that pain.

“We have to talk about what to do during the break.” Regulus says, eyes still glued to his book so he wouldn’t have to see her and make him feel more guilty “I’ll owl you weekly and come to every parties and soirees your parents are holding. I suppose your birthday party is coming, right?”

She turns her head to him, eyebrows furrows, “Weekly? You think that would suffice?”

“I don’t owl anyone so a letter weekly is a luxury.” He said as he looked up to her “You can send me your letters as frequently as you want but know that I’ll only be replying once a week.”

“You’re impossible.” She scoffs, folding her hands in front of her chest “Daily. You are to owl me everyday. You tell me about how your day went, tell me how much you miss me, how much you miss holding hands with me, and you are to send me flowers. I like orchids, so send me those.”

Regulus remains quiet. Those wouldn’t be too hard to do, knowing that those things she said are the very thing he wanted to do each day. And she needed not to tell him what her favourite flower was, he knew. He knew about her more than he would be willing to say. Did she really think that he wouldn’t when he’s been so head over heels for her for years?

“Fine.” He says, closing his book “Any other request?”

She pursed her lips, contemplating, “We have to stop calling each other by our names.”

“What do you mean?”

“Couples don’t do that. They call each other by their pet names.” She explains “I mean that’s what my friends do.”

“I see.” Regulus nods slowly “I’ll call you motormouth.”

“Motormouth?” She asks, appalled “That’s not a pet name, that’s an insult!”

“Well if you learn to quiet down a bit we’ll upgrade to something more mediocre like Darling or Love.”

“Fine,” She spat in annoyance “Honey Puff.”

Regulus glares, “Don’t call me that.”

“Aw, does my dear lover hate to be called with cute names?” She taunts, faking a cute pout “Should we call you Pooh Bear instead?”

Regulus turns back to his book with a fake annoyed scoff. He could only hope that the strands of his hair that are now covering his face would be enough to hide the slight blush appearing on his cheeks. Sure he hates the pet name, but knowing that it was something he got to do with her warms his heart. Who would have known that the Regulus Black is actually such a softie on the inside?

—-

“What’s going on, Regulus?”

His brother’s whisper was making Regulus sweat, walking into the Selwyns’ Manor with colour draining from his face, “I don’t know.”

“Why are we here?” Sirius continues to ask “And why is the garden decorated as if someone’s about to get married?”

Regulus gulped. Is she going to get married? Did the plan not work? Is this why his parents have been sending him more owls? Not because of pride and happiness but because of shame that their son is dating someone who’s already betrothed to another?

The Black brothers were walking a few steps behind her, looking and studying the situation around them. A party is about to be held, just not the ones they would usually go to. Orchids were placed everywhere, her one favourite flower. Regulus could feel his breathing getting shorter in fear. Is this truly the end for them?

“Darling, welcome home!” Mrs. Selwyn greets, pulling her daughter into a warm embrace “It’s so good to see you, my love. And welcome Regulus, Sirius. I hope the journey back was pleasant for you, yes? Your parents are inside, preparing themselves.”

Regulus raised his brows, “They’re here?”

“Well of course they are! They wouldn’t miss their son’s wedding would they?”

“His what?” She asks in surprise, pulling away from her mother’s embrace “Who’s marrying who?”

“You, of course, you silly goose. You’re marrying Regulus.” Her mother teased, poking her daughter’s nose “Did you not read the letters I’ve sent you? Walburga and Orion thought that it would be best to hold the wedding now, seeing that the both of you are already dating, anyway. Your father and I thought the same. We’ve sent the both of you letters but neither of you replied, so we assumed that there was no rejection against the idea.”

Regulus remained quiet, trying to digest the unexpected news.

“My darling girl.” Her mother says warmly, looking at her daughter proudly before turning to Regulus with a warm smile “We didn’t need to put you two in an arranged marriage, after all.”

His eyebrows rose. Arranged marriage? Between him and her?

“I have to get back inside and make sure the catering is ready.” Mrs. Selwyn says before excusing herself inside.

The three children were still frozen, their souls sucked out of their body. The words come into one ear and exit the other with no remarks. His head was fuzzy, unable to comprehend anything that’s just been told to him.

“I’ll look for Mother and Father, see if they’ve got some better explanations.” Sirius says before getting inside the manor.

Regulus watched as his brother disappeared into the manor. His ears were ringing, feet light as if he was afloat. Only on the worst way possible. He couldn’t believe the reality he’s in. Just how great of a mess he’s caused for her.

She turned to him and called, “Regulus.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He cursed under his breath, rummaging his hair as he paced back and forth “What in the holly fuck is going on in our parents’ head?! We’re sixteen, for fuck’s sake! What exactly are they rushing for?!”

Regulus could feel his skin melting in despair. How did he let things get this severe? He only wanted to have more time, to keep her by his side just a little longer. What does the universe have against him that made his life this difficult?

“Regulus, quiet down.” She whispers, noticing the stares thrown at them “People are staring.”

“And you,” He turns, finger pointing at her “Why couldn’t you just open the bloody letters? We could’ve avoided this!”

“Me? How is it my fault? You were sent letters too and you didn’t know. I’m not the only party at fault for not being diligent with my post!”

Regulus clenches his jaws in anger. He lets out a small growl. He didn’t mean to blame her, he was just desperate is all. Yet of course as always he could only make her feel more uncomfortable around him. Just another thing to add to the list of what’s stressing him out right now.

His anger was quickly subdued when he turned to her, noticing that her excessive bite to her lower lip was making it bleed. It was one of the very detailed thing he noticed of her. Whenever she feels scared or unsure of herself, she would bite her lower lip until it bleeds and would have the least realisation of it. She would act as if such action was nothing, as if it doesn’t hurt her the slightest.

“Stop, that. Don’t hurt yourself.” Regulus says as he hands her his handkerchief “Stop mutilating yourself.”

She took the white cloth and pressed it to her lips, still not giving any care for herself, “What do we do know?”

“I don’t know.” Regulus sighs, feeling like he’s going to give in anytime now “I don’t think we could ever out mind our parents' wicked plans. They’re sick in the head, is what they are.”

“Don’t talk about my parents like that, I love them.” She argues, a slight pout evident on her face “Even when they’re being dickheads like this.”

Regulus smiled at the refreshing sight, yet such bliss only lasted for a second as he took a hard gulp, “So will you do it? Will you marry me?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

He mentally winces at her question. He hates the fact that she thinks she’s got no other choice but to marry him. He hated himself for putting her in such a situation, to give her no other option but to marry him though it’s obvious that she has no interest to do it. He hates himself to have forced her to marry him this way.

But Regulus knew that there’s nothing he could do to go against his parents’ decision. The marriage is already in motion and there’s no other way for him but to go forward. He could only pray that one day she would find the way to forgive him.

“Alright, let’s get married, then.”

↠ Part III

[sunnydayjackass]

If you haven't already could i have something for a dense Mc? This request is inspired by me very recently coming to realize that I'm INCREDIBLY dense. This was while at work a guest was getting chatty w me at check out & handed me cash w writing on one of the bills, no biggie it happens. I completed the transaction & my manager who's now counting out the register asks if I ever call them.

Call who??

Wdym call who?

...

...

Manager laughed, I laughed cuz they did & then went on my lunch. I mull over manager's words 4 the joke when it hits me that the guest must've gave me their number on the cash. But then I'm mortified cuz manager asked if I ever call them. 'Them' as in plural. This is by far the fattest L in my life thus far

Nsjsnsidndj well hey, it's a nice lil confidence fluff so long as nobody acts out of pocket about it right?

Jack finds your oblivious nature endearing and adorable, there's something pure about it almost like an unknowing innocence about it which is ultimately very much to his benefit given his situation. Though that isn't to say it doesn't have it's drawbacks either.

Over the span of time Jack has been with you, his advances have been pretty subtle by choice. He doesn't want to be too forward with his advances or affections and risk spooking you off. While you're always grateful for what he does; make you breakfast, help around with chores, nap with you or curl up on the couch to chill with his arm around your shoulders- you don't seem to think much of it. Regarding him often like a best friend/roommate.

At first, that was enough. Jack told himself it could be-love could be a delicate thing and he was content with playing the long game about it. You seemed to be completely oblivious of people’s advances towards you, their flirting, their compliments, you don’t even notice when they give you your phone number. It’s a comfort that his would-be competition goes unnoticed by you and it’s a relief! For the most part. Jack worries if maybe...you don’t see his advances either or if you never will. That eventually he’ll end up like one of those dollar bills- tucked away and forgotten, that terrifies him to his core.

It becomes clear that if he wants this relationship to bloom proper, he’ll have to make the first move. And of course- he’s slow about it, still always asking if it’s alright when he cuddles with you or reaches to touch you but there’s a palpable shift in these affections. They’re more firm, more assured- the hands on your waist or shoulders, nuzzling in your hair, ect. It’ll be one of these occurrences that Jack will quietly ask if he can kiss you- to which you respond in kind with enthusiasm to and it soothes his heightened nerves. “...I’ve wanted to do that for so long, Sunshine.” he breathes across your lips with such a warm smile that it’s contagious. “...I was worried.” You barely catch that last part, it quietly slipping from his lips more to himself than anything.

Should you inquire, Jack will admit it’s that he’s been vying for your affections quietly from a safe friendly distance. If you still seem puzzled he will rattle off every occurrence that someone has flirted with you, made a pass at you, complimented you- every. single, time. It’s almost incredible that he’s got these all memorized but you’re far too flustered or embarrassed to ask why. Jack is just grateful that you chose him. All he can do for you. All he can give to you. Provide for you. Love you in ways nobody else ever could. And he’ll be sure to show that to you. To reinforce his place in your life, cement it. Without you- he’s nothing.

[wanted-to-be-nosey]

Hide and seek

AO3 link

Prompt fill: Object Insertion Word count ~2,300 Warnings: nsfw, unsafe insertions, swearing, under-negotiated kinks?, hidden public play, public erections

Peter had no idea what he’d ever done to end up in this type of situation. Honestly, at this point he was kind of scared to ask.

It was supposed to be an easy mission. A boring mission. Barely even a mission at all.

They hadn’t even required their suits – or supersuits anyway. Instead, he’d been given a very expensive two-piece Tom Ford number. Charcoal grey to compliment Tony’s black.

He and Tony had received an invite to a gala held at some old, rich guys mansion in the Hamptons. An old, rich guy who also happened to be a collector of unusual artifacts – especially of the illegal variety. Art smuggling is not something that the Avengers would normally worry themselves about, but they’d heard rumours about a vibranium statue that T’challa was anxious to get back. Something the king had been looking for, for a while and this was the first solid lead they’d come across.

It hadn’t been hard to get an invite to the gala given Tony’s reputation. He was known for being eccentric and an odd art collector himself.

They’d assumed it would be a quick in and out situation. Chat with some people to show face, find the statue and leave. In and out in an hour tops.

What they hadn’t accounted for, was the house to have security pat downs for everyone entering and exiting the building. Very thorough pat downs at that. Even if it was concealed in an internal pocket, they’d be exposed as they left. On their arrival they’d had to pull phones from pockets and even let them examine their watches.

So, it didn’t matter that they’d found the vibranium statue – shaped like a panther sitting upright on its hind legs – within thirty minutes of arriving, tucked away in a quiet backroom.

Finding it, standing staring at it, didn’t mean anything when there wasn’t a way to actually leave the building with it. They could maybe take pictures for T’challa so he could arrange something to retrieve it himself, but it could be moved by then. It’s unlikely that something so rare would stay still for long. It was likely constantly changing hands for security.

They really didn’t want to bring in the authorities since they didn’t want to advertise the fact that Wakanda had statues lying around made entirely of vibranium. The whole idea was to keep this below board. To do this quietly.

Of course, Peter should have known that Tony would find a solution to the seemingly impossible task.

A solution that involved him waving a condom and a packet of lube in Peter’s direction.

“I’m sorry,” Peter spluttered, not for the first time. “You want to do what, now?”

Tony rolled his eyes before stepping forward to grab the vibranium statue.

“I said, that we can just pop it in the condom and tuck it safely away.” Tony weighed the statue in his hand, running his fingers over the curving lines. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Cause that’s insane!”

“Not really. It’s, what? Five inches tall? Yeah, that panthers face and body will probably be an odd shape but even at its widest it’s not much wider than my dick. We both know you can take me."

“That is so not the point here, Tony,” Peter said exasperated. “Number one, it’s not about fitting it, it’s about the walking around and keeping it in. It’s heavy and there’s no base. What if it gets lost?! That’s like anal safety rule one!”

“It won’t get lost,” Tony interrupted. “Besides worst comes to it I’ll dig it out later. Promise I won’t make you go to Cho.”

“Oh my God.... even if I’m ok with that part, I don’t think T’challa is going to want it back after its been up my ass!”

“That’s what the condoms for!”

“Why don’t you do it, if you want it so much?”

“Be serious, Pete. It’s been years since I’ve bottomed. I’d need far more prep than you would. Time that we don’t have.” Tony put the statue down and took Peter’s hand instead, growing serious as he watched Peter carefully. “I know it’s not exactly going to be comfortable, and I wish there was another way, but this is all I’ve got. If you really don’t want to do it, then we’ll figure something else out. But I really do think this would work. However, just say the word and I promise I’ll drop it.”

Peter hated it when Tony made sense. Yes, they could try and come back another time, but this was their best chance. He really did want this not-quite-a-mission-but-definitely-becoming-one to be a success. And despite his reluctance, he couldn’t deny that the idea did excite him. The thought of walking out past all the other guests, his ass full, had his pulse beating faster and his cock twitching in his pants. Especially knowing what it would do to Tony.

Double checking the door was locked behind him, Peter turned around with a sigh and began unbuckling his belt.

“You better hurry up then,” he said over his shoulder, suppressing a chuckle at Tony’s dumbfounded expression. “And you better make this worth my while later.”

His trousers hadn’t even made it past his hips when Tony kicked into action, grabbing everything he’d need and kneeling reverently behind Peter as he worked his trousers and boxers down to his knee.

“Trust me, I’ll be worshipping you tonight for this,” Tony moaned as his hands roamed over Peter’s ass. “My trousers are already tight at the thought.”

As much as Peter was sure Tony would’ve liked to take his time, the older man swiftly got to work opening him up. The lube, and the fact they’d had sex the night before, meant Tony could easily fit two fingers inside and quickly worked his way up to three. Peter was carefully holding the bottom of his dress shirt to prevent him from leaving any marks or unwanted stains as he leant against the wall, panting.

“How’re you doing?” Tony checked, sounding as breathless as Peter felt.

“Good,” Peter breathed, still listening for movement out in the hallway, the voices from the main hall still drifting to him. “You can add another.”

“You sure?”

“As hot as this is, I don’t want to be caught with my trousers literally down,” he chuckled. “So, yeah, go for it.”

Peter’s breath hitched at the stretch of the fourth finger, it was sharper than he was used to. Tony usually stretched him far more than necessary, taking his time and usually resulting in Peter cumming at least once before he was deemed ready, but time was of the essence here. Tony tenderly kissed his ass and whispered reassurances. Once Peter was able to comfortably take Tony’s fingers and found himself eagerly rocking back against them, he turned to speak over his shoulder.

“I think I’m ready.”

Tony watched him for a moment before nodding and slowly extracting his fingers.

“Right. I’m going to pop this into the condom and tie it off. It doesn’t have a flared base so you’re right, it goes against like every safe insertion talk I’ve ever given but it won’t be for too long and I’ll get it out when we get back,” Tony spoke quickly and quietly as he rolled the condom over the statue. “My fingers are going to smell of condom juice for days. Ugh, it’s so slimy and not helping me get a grip to tie it.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate your feedback,” Peter smirked. “Clearly they need to improve the texture to aid those individuals looking to smuggle things in their ass.”

“Ha ha,” Tony said drily. “I know your joking, but it’s maybe something SI could look into. I’m sure I could think of a medical application for it if I try hard enough. A way to not make it sound like it’s for purely illegal purposes.”

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking right now or not.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Tony smirked, giving Peter’s ass a gentle smack. “Right, you ready for this?”

Peter simply nodded and turned back round; his cock was hanging heavy between his legs, but he already knew he wouldn’t be doing anything about it until they got out of there. The voices from the party were making him nervous and they’d already spent more than enough time at this stupid gala.

The cold press of the statue had him gasping, but he breathed through it as Tony slowly pushed it inside. Applying a bit more lube as the statue widened and he began to give some resistance. He couldn’t prevent a whine at the sharp, almost painful, stretch of the widest part of the statue.

“Breathe Pete, it’s almost there,” Tony murmured, stroking his hip reassuringly. Peter tried to slow his breathing and relax his muscles. He knew tensing wasn’t going to help anything, but it was hard to get his body to cooperate. “Just relax. There we go.”

“Wow,” Peter sighed as he felt his hole finally close behind the statue, the heavy weight of it sitting inside of him. An insistent presence. “Now what?”

“Now, we get out of here,” Tony said, letting his fingers trail over Peter’s crack one last time before pulling up his boxers and trousers, and standing up to allow Peter the chance to get himself sorted.

He could feel the statue within him with every movement. Not necessarily pleasurable, but not not pleasurable either. The weight of the statue made its presence known even when all he was doing was standing. His ass unintentionally clenching to keep it from falling out, despite the fact the size of it would surely add enough resistance that it wouldn’t go anywhere.

“Right,” Peter breathed, turning to face Tony, as he finished buckling his belt. “The cars waiting?”

Tony pressed a couple of buttons on his watch before nodding.

“It will be. How does it feel?”

“Weird. Heavy. I don’t know.” He took an experimental step forward and groaned. “Fuck,” he moaned. “So full. It feels good though. Moving causes it to bump around inside. Not sure I’ll be able to will away my hard-on though.”

“Me neither. Just pop your hands in your pockets and we’ll make a swift exit. Although I’m not sure the car will be the haven you think it’ll be. We’ll have about a twenty-minute drive where you’ll be sitting down and feeling every bump in the road.”

“Fuck, Tony.”

Tony smirked, “I thought you’d like that. Now, c’mon. Car should’ve arrived by now. We need to bid a quick farewell to the host and then I can take you home to ravish you like you deserve.”

“You can’t just say things like that,” Peter groaned, shoving his hands in his pockets to try and disguise his erection pressing against the front of his trousers.

Leaving the room, Peter lets Tony guide him with a hand on his low back as they bid their goodbyes. The leaving pat down was extremely awkward with the pair of them tenting their trousers, but at least it served as an excuse for their early exit. Peter would like to say the knowing smirks from the security didn’t cause his dick to twitch but he’d be lying. Apparently, he had a thing for doing risky things in public. The thought that these men had an inkling over what they were up to was causing his cheeks to flame in embarrassed arousal. But that was something they could explore further at a later date. He had a twenty-minute car ride home to endure first.

Peter jolted as he sat down. Tony had been right. The pressure increased the sensation. Despite there being no base to be pressed on, it still felt like it was being pressed further in as he sat down. Tony’d better be able to get it out when they got back or there’d be hell to pay.

“You good?” Tony asked, as he set the car in drive and slowly exited the gravel driveway, Peter gritting his teeth as he adjusted his trousers.

“Yeah,” he ground out, clenching his hands into fists.

Tony turned on the radio as they joined the main road, speeding along the empty streets. Peter took the time to admire the view outside, anything to try and distract from the ever-present fullness he was feeling. He couldn’t imagine how his ass was ever going to relax enough to get it out again.

They were pulling up to Tony’s own house in the Hampden’s when the realisation suddenly hit to Peter.

“Hey, I just realised, we could’ve just taken it out when we got into the car.”

The twinkle in Tony’s eye as he turned to grin at Peter let him know Tony had already had that thought and chosen to ignore it.

“We could’ve, but this was way more fun, don’t you think?”

“Ugh,” Peter groaned.

“Besides, I promised to make it worth your while. This way you’re just extra ramped up for me and I’ll just have to worship you for longer to make up for your extra suffering.”

“You’re insufferable,” Peter huffed without any real bite.

“Yet, you love me. C’mon, you know it’s always better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. And don’t even try to deny that you weren’t into it. I saw how you reacted to those security guys. Don’t think that’s not something we’ll be discussing at depth later. I have so many ideas. But first, I believe I promised you an extraction so let’s get inside, yeah?”

Rolling his eyes, Peter nodded and exited the car. Small moans escaping him again as he stood up and the statue yet again shifted. T’challa better appreciate the effort that went into this retrieval. It was certainly going to be one he remembered for the rest of his life. Especially if the rest of the night went as well as he was hoping.

[ravenatural]

15 Questions tag game

The rules are: Answer the 15 questions and tag 15 of your mutuals.

Tagged by @echoghost1 , ty Echo!! :D

1. Are you named after anyone? 

Ohh okay so this one is kinda fun because I technically am on four counts! My legal first and middle names both came from two different people ( one a famous author, the other my great great great ( great? I think it’s 4 ) aunt. The other two counts come from chosen names! while I’m not positive how much raven counts ( chosen at 13 because of raven teen titans haha ), Alva is another name I chose for myself that came from an ancestor on my moms side

2. When was the last time you cried? 

Last week? I think? Shit’s been kinda stressful all of a sudden

3. Do you have kids?

I babysat a couple of kids for a few months when I was like 18-ish and worked a job that had a daycare room, and I absolutely adored them to the point my mom started referring to them as my kids, but I am neither a legal guardian nor still in contact since the place went out of business so I’m gonna have to answer no to that one

4. What sports do you play/have played? 

Ohh man okay i don’t think I’ve done any sports since I was like. 10 years old, max. I briefly did soccer, and then basic ballet and tap lessons; I had a couple group recitals, but never advanced past flats, and honestly did not retain even muscle memory on anything

5. Do you use sarcasm?

I can’t because I’m the kind of awkward that struggles with tone inflection and quick wit so when I try people always think I’m serious 😔 

6. What's the first thing you notice about people? 

Something that can be complimented, generally.

Like, one of the things I do as someone with a customer facing job, is actively look for things to complement people on, for a multitude of reasons. It’s def not some kind of a requirement for my position, but more just that I like to break up the basic check-out process a little by finding something that I can genuinely appreciate ( which, the more I’ve done this the wider an appreciation of people’s personal style preferences I’ve had in general ) and communicating to them I like it, which never fails to brighten up an interaction.

It’s honestly really great too, because people often like to share the story behind the things I compliment, and I love to hear those stories, so it’s a good balance I think!

7. What's your eye color? 

I’ve always been told they’re brown but I’m like 98% certain they’re actually hazel? But the definitions of hazel I see are very, well, hazy tbh, and I’m afraid to commit to being 100% certain lmao

8. Scary movies or Happy endings? 

I like both BUT the happy endings I’d really like to have a lot of toil and angst and maybe a lil tragedy first—I want that happy ending to have blood stains that are over time bleached away by sunlight, but forever imprinted onto the fabric

9. Any talents? 

Idk if I’d describe myself as talented in any manner, but that’s mostly because I prefer to think in terms of skill-set over natural talent

That said, I have never formally—or informally really, for that matter—studied gemstones, but I can recognize and name a decent number of them on sight relatively easily, and have ID’d multiple pieces of tanzanite jewelry first try ( something where every individual, all unrelated, who was wearing said jewelry have said I’m the first person to not only think it was something other than sapphire, but to also know instantly. All I can really offer as to how I know is “its just the way it is” because ig the color and shine differences aren’t as easily noticeable to everyone else? ). It’s a side effect of having a detail focused mind that I’m honestly really proud of

10. Where were you born? 

Nice try sucker you’re not getting the answer to my online account security question THAT easily

11. What are your hobbies? 

Drawing

opening new tabs from my YouTube recommendations side bar for every song title that looks interesting and seeing how much new music I can find in one sitting before I get bored

finding hyper specific and sometimes rare things people I know haven’t been able to find and then buying it for them

googling the fuck out of some random ass thing that just came up in conversation until I have a bunch of new fun facts on the subject

sewing

and more!

12. Do you have any pets? 

LOTS

context: my family runs a small hobby farm, + we have our indoor pets ( only cats for indoor now ), we’ve had a variety of livestock over the years, but currently it’s just sheep and chickens for outdoor

13. How tall are you?

Just a lil over 5’5” but not quite 5’6” ( no I don’t need to be that specific but the doctor commented on it last time she took my height and damn if I won’t take the small win )

14. Favourite subject in school?

Mmmmm I’m gonna automatically disqualify art just to make this slightly more challenging for myself.. probably Astronomy? Tbh I’ve never been able to wrap my head around enough math concepts to understand a lot of science formulas, so that whole portion of it didn’t quite work out for me, but I enjoyed the fuck outta reading the textbook

15. Dream Job? 

Oh okay this one is actually really specific, but. Making an anime / cartoon style comic and / or illustrations and maybe a variety of other artwork for NASA, no this position does not exist but I want it IMMENSELY

Hooooo this got a LOT longer than I expected lmao

trying to avoid tagging mutuals I’ve already seen tagged in this one, obvi feel free to ignore if you don’t wanna do it ( we’re low stakes tagging in this household )

@zrllosyn

@magiwou-meowvin

@13threbagel

@lactoseparty

@aggressivelyclueless

@mcfanely

@cosmicteafox

@tunafishprincess

@ukiinas ( I silently salute you for being my longest standing mutual 🫡 )

…and anyone else who’d like to! ( I don’t feel like digging through my followers to fill the list to max shajsisoa have at it fellas )

[butternut-zippersqaush]

CH2: Pigsys Noodles

Previous post!

Pigsy’s Noodles, the shop you decided to go to, was not very far from your apartment. After a short bus ride, you finally arrived at the storefront which was enveloped in a wonderful aroma of steamed broth. You walk in, noticing a hefty pig getting to work on some noodles behind the counter. A man with round glasses was sitting, slurping the remnants of his meals from a bowl with a satisfied sigh leaving his mouth once finished.

“Ah- Welcome to Pigsy’s Noodles. What can I get ya?” The pig finally turned his attention to you as he wrapped up what seemed to be an order. You smile politely before sitting down at the same counter as the other guy.

“Hello! I’ve actually never been here before. What do you recommend?”  

He puffed up his chest proudly, ladle in hand.

“Every noodle from Pigsy's Noodle Shop is handcrafted from scratch with love, and care. It's what our customers have come to expect.” You stare blankly at him for a moment. He coughed slightly, before turning back to the kitchen. “I’ll make you one of our best sellers, just sit tight.” You hum in approval, opting to look around the quaint restaurant. The glasses man was still sitting next to you idly reading a book. It was a very peaceful atmosphere. But then someone came crashing through the door. “PIGSY!!!!!!!!” The new figure bellowed loudly, startling you.  The other two in the room lacked any similar reaction. The perpetrator scrambled to the pig, waving his hands frantically. “I AM SO SORRY!! I GOT DISTRACTED AND FORGOT TO COME BACK FOR THE REST OF THE ORDERS!!!” 

Ah. So he’s why the reviews are there.

Pigsy turns to give the boy an irritated glare. He grumbles a little under his breath before setting a set of hot noodles before you. 

“Kid, ya can’t keep getting distracted and forgetting to do your job. I’m running a business here!” It felt rude to listen to the conversation in front of you, so you snapped apart a pair of chopsticks and decided to focus on your meal. The first pair of noodles enveloped your mouth with a burst of flavor. A smile appeared on your face while you continued to dig into your meal. 

“So, what do you think?” Pigsy asked. You flash an even bigger smile while giving him a thumbs up. “Sososo good!!! I haven’t even tried any of the other noodle shops yet, but I don’t think I’ll have to. Count me as one of your regulars now.” The compliments earn you a beaming Pigsy who waved his hand bashfully at your statement. 

“Awww you’re much too kind, but I’m glad to hear that.” The delivery boy turned to look at you, curiosity on his face.

“Oh, are you not from around here?” He asked, suddenly appearing way too close to you. An irked Pigsy pulls him away to give you personal space. You chuckled slightly, slurping some more of your noodles.

“Yeah, I just moved here on a whim. I’ve been a bit too nervous to go out myself, since I don’t know anyone around here, and the city’s still unfamiliar to me.” You pick out some money for the food and place it on the countertop. “This is the first time I’ve been out in a couple of days. It was a good decision though, otherwise, I wouldn’t have tasted something so yummy!” The boy nodded enthusiastically at every word, while Pigsy smiles once again at your praise.

“OHOHOH!!!” Suddenly, your hands are wrapped over the boy, his eyes almost sparkling. “If you need someone to show you around, I’m totally the guy! Since I deliver everywhere, it’ll be easy to take you all over the place!!” You laugh at his excitement, pulling him back just to get some more room once again.

“That would be very nice actually... It’s very kind of you to offer.” He grins widely, pulling out his phone (and nearly dropping it) before offering it to you to input his number. “The names MK by the way! Well, it's what people call me anyways.”

After exchanging contacts, you decide that it was time for you to call it a night. MK suggested that you could come over by the noodle place tomorrow and drive around the city with him, which you agree to. You gave your thanks to both Pigsy and MK and exited the shop. The cool breeze of the night blew through your hair, and you breathed in a sigh of relief. Maybe, you thought, living in the city wouldn’t be so bad after all.

…

“Did they just leave a 100-dollar tip??” Pigsy stood dumbfounded at the amount of cash next to the empty noodle bowl. He turns over to the other patron, who sheepishly looked back at him. “You could learn a thing or two from them, Tang.”

[howdoyousleep3]

I look up to you so much and the way you share yourself, and the encouragement you give to everyone… it makes me feel warm and cozy. Something that’s been hurting me for a while is I haven’t been able to write. I used to write a few thousand words a week but I haven’t written even a paragraph the last three years. It’s been long enough that whenever I open my laptop to write I’m struck with this overwhelming anxiety that clouds any inspiration I’ve been able to grab.

Do you have any advice for how to get myself out of my head and write again? Or just words of encouragement? It feels like part of me has died.

🥺 Oh, my love! It makes me so happy to hear that I make you feel warm and cozy. That's such a lovely compliment, thank you. 💕

This is something that I've been struggling with too and have only started to come out of since October really. If writing means as much to you as it does to me, I'm so sorry you're going through this. It's such an awful feeling to not be able to do what you once did and loved. I couldn't write anything while I was pregnant and since the girls were born it's been such a challenge to come back to it, so I understand what you're going through.

Advice might be a struggle since it feels like I'm still going through it and almost out of the dry spell, but something that has been so helpful to me is having that support system surrounding you. For me it's this place and my fandom friends. I can't count the number of times @maddiewritesstucky, @slothspaghettiwrites, @christywantspizza, @shadowobsidian, @vilkasdaina, @babyyhoneyydarling, @baseballbatbucky, @ywecanthavenicethingsanymore, and countless others have reminded me that this is only temporary, that I am capable, and that even the smallest bits of writing count for something. I don't know where I would be without them.

Something else that helped me write and get excited again was all the little things that come with writing: playlists, moodboards, pinterest boards, asks, hype posts, headcannons. Those things can convey the same feelings that writing does even when it's hard for me to put words down on paper. It still makes me feel like I'm contributing to my own work.

Sometimes I actually write things down in a journal or just throw three sentences down into a doc. That can help too. Anything that makes me feel like I'm being creatively productive.

I also did some fandom exploring and tried out different types of writing styles to try new things and that was really beneficial.

And reading has been a huge help to me. I've been reading like crazy. I read every day. Something that keeps my brain connected to writing, even when it isn't my own, has kept this part of me alive.

This part of you has not died, no no. This part of you continues to need to be shown grace and patience as it emerges again. I know some days it feels like "oh my gosh, there it is, there's that feeling", and then when you go to write, little to nothing happens, and that can be so frustrating. But finding other ways to help this side of you come out to play until it's ready will surely be beneficial.

You'll find something so worthy of throwing yourself into soon and you'll be so excited to be creative once again and I'm so excited for that to happen for you. Writing and creativity takes so much time and energy. You'll get there, babe. ❤️

[sesamestreep]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you @philtstone for tagging me! 🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

22, apparently 😇

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

223,131 📝

3. What fandoms do you write for?

super indie small fandoms like Star Wars and Marvel, with a side of some Sorkin shows (🤧) and the occasional Natasha Pulley novel with three fans and a paperclip as the reader base.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

and never ever watch the ten o’clock news (Rogue One, Jyn & Bodhi BFF fic/Psych AU, no one is more shocked than me this is my number 1 fic but it’s also my oldest one on AO3, so there’s something to seniority??)

don’t think about it all too much (Rogue One, Jyn/Cassian, The Newsroom AU)

how many acres, how much light (Rogue One, Jyn/Cassian + Crew as Family, Everybody Lives type deal that I wrote for my darling @philtstone so thanks buddy 😊)

i know the kind of home we’d share (Rogue One, Jyn/Cassian, North & South AU, another shocker on this list tbh but also an oldie)

of all the strangers, you’re the strangest that I see (Rogue One, Jyn/Cassian, Medieval-ish Arranged Marriage AU)

RIP TO MY OTHER FANDOMS I GUESS??

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, always, even though sometimes it takes me a while (big time executive dysfunction around these parts). I’m generally the worst when it comes to leaving comments on fic I love because I get nervous and can never come up with something sane and/or worthwhile to say, so I try to show my appreciation for the lovely people who leave me (the unworthiest of cads) lovely comments by at least replying and saying thank you!

6. What is a fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I guess that would be under the light of a lonely star because it ends on a sort of cliffhanger and one half of the pairing still doesn’t know the other person’s name (which commenters have pointed out was cruel of me and they’re right). I do hope to continue it someday and make it into a full series of some kind but I’m not sure when that will happen. Runner up is damned to pining through the windowpanes, but it’s maybe more wistful slow burn vibes than pure angst. I leave it to the reader to decide.

7. What’s a fic you've written with the happiest ending?

most of them are pretty happy, though I do think I like to leave characters on the precipice of happiness rather than like…on their wedding day or whatever with everything wrapped up perfectly. For argument’s sake, and because I doubt I’ll get to shout it out elsewhere, I’ll say fast forward and we’re taking on the world together because it’s a series post-script about how great the characters lives became later on, which is pretty darn happy.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I’m very lucky. I do get some (maybe not intentional) backhanded compliments here and there but commenting etiquette can be a tough line to walk sometimes, so I try to imagine people are trying to be nice overall.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not that I’ve published. It just hasn’t been something I felt drawn to write so far. I have some WIP fics that might be classified that way, though… 👀

10. Do you write crossovers?

I write a lot of AUs but not crossovers, if we’re defining it as “characters from property A interact with characters from property B, and their universes are not canonically connected at all.” It’s just not my jam to write, though I’ve certainly enjoyed reading it in other people’s work!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t believe so!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yep! I co-wrote summer came like cinnamon, so sweet with the talented amazing showstopping @firstelevens this past summer after I bullied her into letting me write some stuff for the bake-off AU and it’s my pride and joy and the most fun I’ve ever had writing a fic.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I think from a purely numerical standpoint, it’d have to be Jyn/Cassian but…. I don’t really have a favorite?? There’s a ton of ships I love that I’ve written long fics for and tons I’ve written random one off prompt fills on here that I’ve never posted to AO3 and tons that I love that I’ve never written for, either because it has never occurred to me or because no one’s ever asked! So yeah, deeply bisexual answer, but I cannot choose.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

For stuff with already published installments, I would love to finish my Graceland series some day, add to my Cloak and Dagger AU some more like people have asked, and figure out where to take follow me like the moon eventually, but…my motivation for Rogue One fic has significantly decreased for a variety of reasons (none of which are lack of reader response because god, rogue one fans are the best readers out there, they always show up for the creators in the fandom)

My even more real answer is that I genuinely never expect to finish anything I start 🙈 [bruce banner voice] that’s my secret, cap…

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, I think? It’s my favorite thing to write so maybe that’s just vanity. I also think I’m good at pastiching different styles, which is helpful since I write a LOT of AUs. Also, recently I’ve been taking a lot more risks in terms of format and style in my fic and I do think I’ve proven more successful at it than I expected to be!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Uh….follow through??? 🫠 I get very distracted easily and tend to have like 200 WIPs at a given time, and maybe if I could focus more or impose any sort of structure on my brain, I would finish more stuff but I am doing this for fun so I believe in following my bliss to an extent. Also, research and world-building are VERY difficult for me and so I avoid writing anything where I’ll have to do a lot of either…

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic.

I don’t think people should be afraid to do it when it’s important/adds value to the story BUT I am also very scared of doing it, haha, so I’m a hypocrite. It’s never come up as a necessity for me yet and I speak very few languages anyway, so…yeah, I don’t have strong opinions on this one, besides be nice to authors who do it and try their best! Fanfiction is free!!! We’re all in this for the love of it!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

UH????? First published fanfic was for Rogue One/Star Wars, but I might have a WIP/draft of a fic for The Newsroom that’s older…

20. Favorite fic you’ve written.

I already said I had the most fun I’ve ever had writing summer came like cinnamon, so sweet with @firstelevens and I just think it’s a perfect rom-com of a fic! But also, sometimes I re-read come and get your honey to cheer myself up because it’s a very light and silly established relationship fic (which fandom generally hates, just looking at kudos/interaction levels, but I adore and I will DIE ON THIS HILL!!!) 🍯🐻

✨

tagging @carolinepenvenens @incognitajones @flythesail and anyone else who might want to do it!

[brad-bakshi-loves-bugs]

oh my gosh, did you just say you roleplay in your room?? dude (gender neutral)!! that’s so smart. and also really cute..:)

you talked about having ADHD. i’ve been having some trouble lately and i was wondering what it looks like for you? just to get an idea wether i might need to check it out or not.

thank you, i think...? this is the strangest ask ive ever received but i think being called cute is a compliment LMAO so ty

so like. adhd looks different in everyone it affects, and i always recommend reaching out to a psychiatrist or even just your physician if you suspect you might have some Fucky Stuff going on with your brain! i was diagnosed with adhd when i was 10 which is pretty telling for how severe mine is because they dont usually diagnose afab kids that young LMAO but again. everyone is different!

HOWEVER i will start this off by saying that i also have severe bipolar 1, which has a lot of overlapping symptoms with adhd. im not a psychiatrist, a psychologist, or a therapist (or any other -ist), and i couldnt tell you which of my Problems are adhd and which are bipolar. so here's your disclaimer to please not use me as the deciding factor for whether or not you have adhd! my adhd personally is life-altering and essentially ruined my childhood for various reasons, and it's still something i struggle with daily. not every case is so severe (most aren't, in fact), so take everything i say with a grain of salt!

but here's a list of things i attribute to my adhd, which is very far from a complete list, but it's what i can think of off the top of my head:

i HATE silence. whenever im doing anything i have to be playing music or listening to something or i cant focus at all, but it also cant be New Music or ill just get distracted and not be able to focus

on the flip side, i also cant fully concentrate if i have any sort of noise. so if im trying to have a serious conversation that requires my full attention, i have to turn off all music and essentially block my ears so that i can focus. no i dont know why but its SO FUCKING ANNOYING

i alternate between skipping every song halfway through because i get bored quicker than a song can finish or listening to the same song for 6 hours on loop and still wanting to listen to more of it. seriously, i listened to rockstar sea shanty by nickelback almost 400 times this year alone, and i only just discovered it in august

when i hyperfixate, i cannot do ANYTHING else or i get massively depressed and lose all motivation. i ended up in a psych ward back in october because the thought of doing my (easy and otherwise enjoyable) job made me self-harm because i was hyperfocused on watching a specific show and i couldnt do ANYTHING else. im a terrible employee

time management? not here! im late to EVERY SINGLE THING. i had an interview yesterday and i was late by 15 minutes. when i was working at petsmart, i can count on both hands the number of times i showed up to work on time in an ENTIRE YEAR. i have no idea why im like this and i hate it

i pace. a LOT. like, i spend several hours a day pacing. i literally just walk around my kitchen and living room and bedroom aimlessly. im like an npc, but instead of giving you helpful tips i just give you really shitty one liners and puns until you beat me to death

if im not pacing, im doing SOMETHING. whether im biting my nails, popping my knuckles, bouncing my leg, bobbing my head, anything. its physically impossible for me to sit still. like right now, im sitting at my desk typing on my keyboard, but im also shaking my legs violently and bobbing my head to the music im currently playing (it's hicktown by jason aldean. yeah, i enjoy country music. im a redneck sorry)

i SUCK at multitasking. like, even just listening to something and writing. or listening to someone and watching tv. or listening to two things at once. okay, so im starting to think im just really bad at listening. but STILL. my mom can work and watch tv at the same time, but if i try to do that i just end up watching tv and i cant get anything done. i absolutely cannot concentrate if two things are happening at once

i cant watch movies. i literally spend more time rewinding and playing back whatever i missed while i was checking my phone than i do actually watching the movie. im the same way with tv shows unless im hyperfixated on them, but at least theyre shorter so i can take more breaks

again, this is not a complete list. nor does this mean that if you check all of these boxes then you also have adhd, or that if you dont check them then you dont. i cannot stress enough that adhd affects every person differently. thats why its such a bitch to diagnose, and why the symptoms overlap with so many other illnesses and disorders.

i do hope that some of this helped! i have no issues with talking about my own mental problems because im a very firm believer that they should be destigmatized and more often talked about publicly, but i try to limit how often i bring up my own issues unless someone directly asks about them because i know not everyone wants to hear about them and that's fine too!

[arsalamsyah]

On Being Viral

Today is the only Friday the 13th of this year. My Instagram followers are 21.3K and I want to write about it.

Exactly 3 weeks ago, while I was in the office, my mom sent me a video that my grandma noticed I was on the TV. The interview was actually recorded way long before -- just a day after Oscar event with that Will-Smith-slapped-Chris-Rock-in-the-face scene. Little did I know because no one told me it would be on air on my Grandma’s birthday and she’s the one in my circle who knew it first. Little did my family know that I would be flying to Indonesia that same night.

My day was packed wrapping up projects and delegating tasks as I would be off for two weeks. My departure was full of drama ever since I left the office that it would be one other whole chapter than this. That’s when the followers counter started hitting up and little did I know because then I did not connect to the internet for 19 hours on the plane and was coping with this-and-that. In fact, I immediately shut off the notification because I wanted to make sure that I would have a good time with my family and friends that I had not seen for at least 3 years.

The number of followers began from 1818 increased to 3K, 5K, 10K… what.. is.. going.. on..

Once… twice… thrice… but then tenth, twentieth, thirtieth…. the news is kept being reposted without my consent tens of times I don’t even count, I don’t want to see, and deep inside I scream “can you stop? staahppp.. sthaahpp.. help..” You might think “why don’t you put your account on private” because then I have to click ignore whenever a person comes stop by. I also don’t want to temporary delete my account because I need to connect with my friends. I don’t even know how to stop this snowball effect of people thinking of me as admiring, proud, genius, etc – because frankly I am not that person.

Dude, I am not an influencer, a genius, a public figure, or some sort. I am just a regular human being who work Monday to Friday just like the majority of people do, and having a very simple traditional lowkey life when it comes to make friends and maintaining my social media. The spotlight feels odd to me. I am not used to this kind of exposure. I am not used to seeing so much of a praise and compliment, having countless of connection requests on all platforms, and receiving hundreds of DM requests asking for interviews and talk invites. I am not used to being reached out by celebrities with millions of followers, national TV channels, and newspapers. I am not used to ignore people but with all due respect, I am sorry for now I intentionally don’t even want to respond those that I’ve never met in-person (no matter how far popular they are - except Elon if ever lol) as I don’t even have the capacity beyond my existing daily activities and I simply have a life to live. What did I do to even deserve those flattering messages? To date, I honestly don’t understand what makes the news special to millions of audience, meanwhile to me it’s a “business as-is, no big of a deal”.

Behind that viral curtain, I am still me -- a kid who questions life and tries to make a peaceful living. It’s not even half year yet, but I’ve been brought to the extremes in a split second. And, I am here, hanging. Dear God, I am thankful yet hopeful.

[soap-thoughts]

(a)romantic lover

**updated

It’s cold. 

Perhaps it’s a form of self-punishment, to sit here on the cold floor, under the dim light of a lamp and the moon, looking through this scrapbook of memories. Sitting under the blanket you gave me, in your hoodie, alone. 

I shouldn’t do this. I have to do this. 

It’s quiet. My thoughts scream louder in silence. 

You would have scolded me if you knew I was still up at stupid o’ clock in the middle of the night. I’m not sure what time it is. I can’t see the clock from here. I can’t remember where I put my phone. It doesn’t matter. 

I’m so cold. 

You always ran warm. I always loved it when you held my hands. You had such dry hands. I kept telling you to use hand cream, but you never did. You only used mine when I gave it to you. You said the smell of peaches always reminded you of me. Always made you smile. 

Would they still? 

There’s a drawing of peach blossoms in our scrapbook. You gave me so many drawings. I saved them all. You kept saying I should let you tattoo me. You could give us matching tattoos. You would even give me a discount. I was too scared of needles. 

Maybe it was for the better that you never did. 

The tattoos. The piercings. Your eyes. I was a goner the second I saw you. 

Ha-yoon never let me live that down. It’s her fault anyway, for wanting a tattoo but being too much of a coward to go on her own. I guess I should be thankful. Sometimes I am. Sometimes I wish I had refused to go. 

You had asked if I wanted a tattoo too. It was unfair of you to look at me like that, smirking like that, and expect me to think straight. 

Straight. Hah. You would’ve laughed at that. 

I blurted out that I wanted your number. 

You just blinked at me for what felt like ages. I wanted to sink into the floor. Ha-yoon was cackling in the corner. And then you grinned, wide and smug, that lip piercing glinting in the lights of the shop. I wondered what that piercing would feel like against my skin. 

The pet names. Those fucking pet names. I never thought I liked them until they came out of your mouth. Maybe it was just you. 

“’Course you can, doll. As long as you promise me a date.” 

I shouldn’t have said anything. Shouldn’t have gone on that date, shouldn’t have let myself be drawn in by the dare in your eyes and the curve of your smirk. 

You drew me a buttercup a few weeks later. Was that the second date? Third? I don’t remember. But you told me that’s what you would’ve wanted to tattoo on me. Sweet and pretty like me, you said. I’ve always been weak to compliments. Always been weak for you. 

We have a photo from that day. You’re holding a four-leaf clover and looking so proud of yourself. You said it was a good sign, a lucky sign from the universe, just for us. I said I didn’t believe in luck, you said you believed in us. I believed in you. 

I had a cut on my finger, a little papercut that I put a bandaid over. You held my hand and kissed it, tender and gentle and it settled on every open gash in my soul. I looked up at you and you were so close, your body warm against mine but I still wanted you closer, closer, closer. The sun shining bright and warm, the breeze ruffling the hem of my dress, you, so close that I could count the little freckles across your nose. Your eyes on mine, watching, waiting, asking. My heart racing in my ears and I couldn’t think, couldn’t pull away, couldn’t stop myself from leaning up and then your lips were against mine and I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to breathe. 

That was the third date. I remember now. I should have known then, should have should have should have. Clovers are green, there is no such thing as luck. 

But you were stunning. I never stopped being amazed that I could have someone like you in my life, by my side, in my bed. I loved it when you left bruises, the ache a reminder that I wasn’t dreaming, that I was yours and you wanted me. 

Me, with all my flaws and scars. 

I wanted to, you know. Was so close to making myself bleed, anything to take my mind off this emptiness in my chest but then I remembered the look on your face and I couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t. Not after the way your face fell every time I fell, not after the pride in your eyes when I started to heal and you weren’t so afraid of every sharp object in my hands. Not after all the storms you held me through, not after you had been so kind. 

That day, my skirt riding just a little too high up my thigh, your sharp intake of breath, realization and horror and panic flooding my every sense. My thoughts racing, screaming, she’ll hate me she’s disgusted she won’t want me anymore. My heart pounding thick in my ears, blood turned to poison and I was crumbling into pieces. My nails digging sharp into my palms like I could hold myself together but all I ever do is tear myself apart. 

But your voice, your voice, so kind, so patient, not like my mother’s, reaching for me through the raging chaos of my mind. 

“Jinnie, Jinnie, angel, breathe. It’s okay. It’s me, it’s just me.” 

Talking me down in that soft voice, so soft it felt sharp against my aching, mangled soul. I cry like a thunderstorm, you held me through every crash. Your hands, coaxing mine open, warm against my back, gentle against my cheeks as you brushed away my tears. Your eyes, full of a rain-drenched love, summer showers that I could have drowned in. Your quiet plea, begging me to talk to you if I ever wanted to hurt myself, whispered like it could shatter in the stillness. 

Later, pressing kisses sweet against my thighs, each one a butterfly bandage holding my fractured edges together. Bruises blooming on my skin and I wanted, needed more, more, more. 

I miss the bruises. I miss you. 

There are too many reminders of you in this house. 

I have some of your hoodies, your shirts, a few earrings you took out at night and forgot to take with you come morning. Memories of you kissing my forehead so softly it hurt. You opened the blinds and looked like an angel in the light, the pretty wind chime you gave me for my birthday casting rainbows on your face. I got out of bed when I smelled your coffee, and you always had a cup of tea ready for me. You would always smile at me and I melted, you looked at me like I was the sun and I never told you that the sun was nothing compared to the warmth of your gaze, your embrace, your hands around mine. 

There are extra pens on the desk for when you wanted to sketch and forgot to bring one of your own. A bag of my favorite chocolates that I never buy for myself but somehow always had in the cabinet. A fluffy black cat plushie you bought me for our 1-year-anniversary. A rubber duck with violet fairy wings that you got for me on a whim, because you said it was cute like me. 

I have one of your violet sketches here. They were your favorite flower. You had a tattoo of them on your shoulder, in black ink. You didn’t have any colored tattoos. If I got a tattoo, I think I would’ve wanted it to be in color. I would’ve gotten violets too. 

This photo is my lock screen, you smiling at me while I laughed. I don’t know if I should change it. I should. I know I should. But you liked to make me laugh. I loved the way you laughed from your chest, carefree and bold, the sparkle in your eyes when you got excited, the curve of your mouth corners when you smiled. The way you smiled at me. 

A screenshot from a late-night video call. You’re looking at the screen, looking at me, all sweet and soft and I didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve the love in your eyes but you kept saying I did and maybe I started to believe it. I miss the timbre of your voice, the rasp of your voice in the mornings and at night. The pet names. The way you said my name like a prayer, “Hye-jin, Hye-jin, my Hye-jin.” Halcyon, Halcyon, my Halcyon, except you’re not mine, not anymore. 

A photo of you working on a tattoo design. Your eyelashes casting shadows on your cheeks, that familiar furrow in your brow, the same as when I didn’t take care of myself. You’d brush my hair out of my face and say that you just wanted me to take care of myself the way I cared for others. Your voice, murmuring “Jinnie, love, you deserve good things too.” 

You always thought too highly of me. 

The photo that’s my home screen. You resting your chin on my head, arms around me and hands holding mine. Smiling that soft smile, so different from the smirk that first drew me in but I stayed for that smile that was just for me. The warmth of your hands on mine, the comfort of your arms around me, the way your embrace felt like coming home. 

Polaroid photos and phone backgrounds. That’s all I have left and now I can remember all the green, lurking in the shadow of every moment with you, haunting me every time you said you loved me, weighing me down like chains and grief. All the green I ignored and pushed away, all the guilt I tried to bury but it always came back. 

A photo from when we went stargazing. We drove out to a state park and tried to find the constellations. We found the Big and Little Dipper, Scorpio, Altair and Vega. The breeze kept blowing my hair into my face, and you took a picture of me looking like a mess. You brushed my hair out of my face with gentle hands like I was made of glass, leaving bruises on my soul that might never fade. 

I must’ve been staring at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. I hope I did. 

I did love you. 

Ha-yoon always said I was too needy. Needy for attention, needy for physical touch, needy for sweet words, needy for someone to love me and want me the way no one ever seemed to. Me, always second best, after Ha-yoon, after my brother, never anyone’s first choice. 

And then you came along, all honey-coated words and light touches and you stole my breath away and set me on fire and I couldn’t resist. 

I wanted it. I wanted to be happy. I wanted you. 

I was fine. I was loved. I was happy. I was too happy. I was selfish. 

There’s something missing in my head, in my heart, a missing link, a missing switch. Something that keeps me from loving the way you deserved to be loved, the way you loved me, the way everyone else seems to. Everyone except me. 

Green, the color of that stupid flag, green, the color of doom and guilt and grief. Green like grenades, ticking and ticking until it explodes and I am destroyed, you are destroyed, everything is in ruins, my fantasies shattered on the floor with the pieces of my soul. All I see is green, green, green, I’m hurling the scrapbook across the room and when it hits the wall I am broken, breaking, broken as my tears hit the ground. 

I made you cry when I told you. I didn’t want to see you cry, I didn’t want to make you cry. Your eyes, your eyes, you looked at me like I was a stranger. I wanted to hold you but what right did I have when I was the one who broke you? 

You left your scarf behind, I wonder if you’ll come back for it, for me. I wonder, I hope, I take every hope and burn them into ashes because you’re gone, gone, gone and I’m left grasping for every last remnant of you. 

I blocked you, you would’ve done it anyway, what if you did call? I’m scared that you did, scared that you didn’t but what would you say, what would I say, what could I say? 

I never wanted to hurt you, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I had to tell you, I had to, I had to. It was the right thing to do. 

Right? 

I should have never started any of this, should never have stepped into that tattoo shop, should never have asked for your number, should never have gone on those dates. Should never have tried to give you my heart when I knew there would always be something I couldn’t give, should never have been so fucking selfish. 

I dared you to love every shard of my fractured soul, I dared you to love all of my sharp edges and cobwebbed hurts. I dared you to love the mess of my being and you took the challenge and loved and loved and embraced every hurting child I hid in the shadows of my heart. I was happy, I was too happy, I am not allowed to be happy. 

Green, the curse of my life. Green, cursed to love and love but it’s never enough, I will never be enough. I never wanted you to leave me, I never wanted to leave you, I would have stayed with you forever, if you let me, if I let me. 

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m gasping for air, gasping for you, choking on my mistakes and the happiness that I was never allowed to have. Gasping, drowning, needing you but you’re not here, you’re not here and I’m alone, alone, alone. 

I shouldn’t have told you. I couldn’t not tell you. 

Could I have pretended? Could I have kept my secret? 

Could I have kept you? 

Would it have been right? 

[frozenwolftemplar]

Writer's Month Day 21: At a Bar

Fandom: None

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,066

Summary: Once again, I didn't have any ideas, so once again Calliope and Libby are back, this time seeking out inspiration in, well, I think you can guess.

+++

Too-raucous laughter stampeded out the door with all the force and heedlessness as a herd of panicked steeds, so thick with alcohol that Libby very nearly had the impression it was an actual drafter shoving up against her along with the escaping firelight.

From where she was surreptitiously coiled around her neck, Calliope wrinkled her nose distastefully as she caught the scents of whisky and rum as cheap as it was hard (ugh, common drink; give her a martini any day). “Did you have to choose this bar?” She sniffed as Libby carefully picked her way through the jam-packed establishment.

“It’s the most popular one in town,” Libby replied, gathering her skirts to preserve them from a mystery puddle (oh joy...). “Besides, it was *your* idea to go pass time in a real bar to find inspiration for today’s tale. If I want to ‘get a sense’ of a bar, this is the best one.”

Calliope puffed a disgruntled cloud in response but said nothing, simply joining her mistress in scanning the bar in search of a seat, preferably an isolated one (she was not an ignorant muse; what few believers were left in this age would become the wrong sort of excited at the sight of her glorious self). “What about there?” She indicated a friendly looking stool with her claw, tantalizingly empty, blissfully quiet, and-

“Oi! Timber!”

-reduced to splinters courtesy of the hiccuping factory-man who’d just collapsed on top of it, much to the rowdy amusement of his fellows.

“...Or not.”

“Keep looking,” Libby said, edging away from the bunch as a second grease-smeared worker toppled over and landed on his fellow. “There has to be a good seat somewhere.”

“Hi! Wench!” A lad with foam caught in his stubble patted his lap and leered over at Libby as she reflexively whipped her head towards him. “I’ve got a seat for ya right ‘ere, love!”

“Oh! Uh....n-no...” Libby stammered, taking a step back as his friends laughed riotously. “I- I wouldn’t want to trouble-“

“Come now!” He crowed. “No trouble at all for a bonny thing like you! And even if it were, you could always make it up to me later!”

A scalding blush rushed up her neck, hectic to match her pulse, as the laughter and- oh dear Mirah- offers of seats grew. “Er...”

“You’re being too nice,” Calliope hissed. “Say ‘no’ like you mean it!”

“No, thank- OH!”

“Don’t thank him!” Calliope’s voice, buried under the din, was sharp as the nip she’d just dealt to Libby’s collarbone. “Just *leave.* And be haughty about it.”

For a beat Libby stayed rooted where she was, a pheasant unable to fly in the face of a shotgun’s barrel, until a second, sharper nip spurred her to action. Sticking her nose in the air, Libby obediently pivoted on her heel and strode towards the back of the tavern, ignoring the whoops and mocking cheers that ensued when the illusion of hauteur was ruined when she stumbled over her feet and nearly splashed into Mystery Puddle Number Two.

Calliope grumbled as she dig her claws into Libby!s neck lest she slide off and land in said puddle (how crass could humans be?). “You are a terrible protege. You call that a rebuff?”

Libby huffed. “You’re my muse for writing, not flirtation.”

“I could be both.”

“NO!” That ‘vacation fling’ story still hadn’t been scrubbed from her consciousness.

“There you go! That was perfect!” Calliope flicked her tail in self congratulations. “I’m such a good teacher.”

Libby elected to not comment on Calliope’s pedagogical prowess beyond an eye roll (let it never be said dragons were patrons of humility. Quite honestly, that was the *only* useful thing she’d learned from her since her arrival, descriptions of past dragonish flames and lengthy lectures on the best sugar to purchase or the most fetching color to compliment her scales falling squarely in the category of ‘things she could live without knowing.’ Just then she just spotted an empty stool in a safe (i.e. deserted) corner and made a beeline towards it before any falling factory men or bona fide creeps could materialize. Fortunately, the fates showed her a mercy; the stool remained free, the corner remained isolated, and in a blink it was hers. Finally.

“Alright then.” LIbby took out a pad and pencil, flipping to a blank page. “Let’s get observing. The sooner we find a story, the sooner we can get out of here.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and a fight will break out,” Calliope mused, surveying the bar and privately wishing she possessed Polyhymnia’s gift of throwing her voice so she could help usher one into existence.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and one won’t.” LIbby tossed back, watching with distaste as the barkeep cut someone off by pitching their inebriated self out the door. “Besides, would Hugo really want to heat about something like that?”

She waited for Calliope’s usual retort about the Dark Lord having the taste of a dung beetle, but none came.

That’s odd, she thought. Calliope shared her goddess’s passionate dislike of Hugo and never missed a chance to disparage him. She hadn’t slithered off; Libby could still distinctly feel her scales, slightly rough and as warm as a chestnut in a muff, laying against her skin. So...why the silence?

With a mix of curiosity and concern, Libby glanced down to where Calliope was tucked inside her collar. Instantly, the former sensation was overwhelmed by the latter. For around her neck, sapphire eyes stared wide and horrified at something overhead, there was a minute tightening of claws, and the heartbeat fluttering against her throat thrummed quick and anxious.

Dread creeping into her veins, Libby followed Calliope’s gaze, craning her neck, and gasped.

There, protruding from the wall behind them, was a row of mounted dragon heads. Scales dull with death glinted in the light from the hearth, not with inspiration or pleasure, but with a hollow artificiality that caused Libby’s stomach to turn. With dust coating their horns and necks stiff with an enforced elegance that was but an imitation of Nature’s, they watched, affectless glass eyes holding no commentary or judgment or snap of life such as shown by the creature around her neck, only a diluted, warped reflection of the buzz of the bar.

“Again,” Calliope’s whispered, an uncommon rasp in her voice, “Why did you have to choose this bar?”