#so here u go hope u enjoy

[stellewriites]

simon is a he/him lesbian in this fic. he’s a gender nonconforming cis woman & prefers using a masc name and pronouns

huge thank you to woolie, birdy, gougie, báir & three for being so encouraging and helping me with this fic and to kitty for making all of my oc names as always :3

this is a love letter to butches <33

Riley (he/him), 31, female.

Looking for a roommate ASAP. DM for details, don’t fuck me about.

you’d found the post on an online forum asking for a roommate and hadn’t hesitated to reach out immediately when you saw you were in the same city. your current roommate was only a few weeks away from moving in with her boyfriend, which would leave you with an apartment you couldn’t afford on your own.

although the post left everything to the imagination, the options for roommates were slim pickings and the single room apartments on the market were no cheaper, meaning you were getting desperate.

after a brief back and forth online with riley, he explained that his own roommate was moving out which was why he was looking for someone new to fill the spot. the apartment was cheap for the area - not that he told you where it was- and you’d have your own bedroom but you’d share the living room and kitchen, there were two small bathrooms, and storage in the shallow loft since it was the top floor apartment.

standard stuff but it sounded perfect.

riley was a blunt texter, but you assumed he’d maybe had his fill of people messing him about so far and just wanted to get down to business and find a roommate before he was stuck in the same position as you; paying double rent for a place that wasn’t worth it, digging into savings to stay afloat.

after covering whether you smoked (quit last year), had any pets (allergic), or liked frequent house parties (too shy), he offered to meet up to go into more detail about the place and you’d jumped at the chance, naming a cafe you liked to frequent near your work.

you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting when you arrived and found a table near the window - or more accurately, what you’d been picturing riley to look like - but you’d had to school your features into something less flustered when a tall woman in a baggy hoody and a pair of black work out shorts walked in and bee-lined for your corner.

as he walked your eyes glued themselves to his nike shorts as they rose up his thighs, indecently tight, showing off the thick muscle covered in a smattering of soft, unshaven hair, light enough that it glistened in the afternoon light. as he got closer you noticed a smattering of scars leading up his shins to his knees and stretch marks curving around the inside of his thighs.

you felt the urge to reach out and touch when you felt the weight of his own gaze taking you in for the first time.

“riley?” you’d asked hesitantly, when you finally managed to lift your head up to face him, cheeks ablaze. beneath his hood you could see that the scars continued on his face; almost prominently one ran from mid chin through his lips and up his cheek, another, smaller but thicker, ran from his hairline to two inches down his forehead slightly off centre.

you were mesmerised.

“prefer simon,” he’d corrected but nodded, his voice lighter than you’d expected but thickly accented.

he pulled down his hood with a scant look around the cafe to reveal a short cropped haircut, a little shaggy at the top. he took the seat opposite you and you sat up straight when your knees bumped accidentally. you snatched your legs back beneath your chair and clenched your thighs tightly together as the warmth of his bare skin throbbed through your jeans.

christ what was wrong with you? you had the attention of one hot, tall butch and suddenly you were a bag of nerves and fumbling all over the place. get it together.

“oh! yeah ok, cool,” you said and tried to smile normally. “simon.”

“not what you were expecting?” he asked wryly.

“uhm, no,” you admitted with an embarrassed little huff. “not exactly; i don’t really know what i was expecting though to be fair.”

“want to back out? no ‘ard feelings,” simon offered indifferently. guarded.

“no! no, i’m still very interested,” you insisted, biting your cheek when he raised an eyebrow at you in amusement. “i ordered already, uhm. got here a little early after work so i figured why not? i just got you a latte, i should’ve maybe asked.”

you felt wrong footed in front of his confidence. his legs were spread wide beneath the table, feet planted on the outside of yours and suddenly this felt less like a first meeting for a roommate and instead like your ideal first date.

you looked over at the counter and tapped your leg impatiently when you couldn’t see your drinks.

“that’s nice of ya.”

“i wanted to make a good first impression if we’re gonna be roomies,” you joked.

“mm.” he looked you up and down. “you messy?”

“excuse me?”

“i like to keep the place clean. deal breaker if you’re messy, it’s why soap had to move out.”

“soap? i don’t— yeah, i’m clean. tidy. i can keep my shit tidy,” you insisted. a waitress brought your drinks over on a tray and you thanked her quietly.

he smiled. “good, then this should be fine.” his foot tapped yours under the table. “relax. you said you came here after work?”

“yeah, i work nearby. sales calls, nothing interesting,” you shrugged and took a big sip. “pay is shit, but it covers half of the bills. what about you?”

“construction,” he said simply and your eyes drifted without permission to his hands wrapped around his mug then up to his arms hidden beneath his hoody.

“nice,” you choked out, visions of simon in a sweaty tank top throwing back a sledge hammer, not at all helping with the heat on your face and between your legs. “long hours?”

“sometimes,” he conceded. “s’why i asked about parties. don’t need to be coming home from work to an ‘ouse full’a dick’eads.”

you snorted.

“i can promise no house parties. well, maybe one around my birthday but i mean does inviting four people around for pizza really count as a house party?”

simon squinted his eyes playfully. “guess i can allow a little leniency here and there.”

you grinned behind your cup.

“what about your own friends? they swing by often?”

“not if i can help it,” simon huffed, a smile pulling at his scarred lip as you chuffed a surprised laugh. “tend to go to gaz’s or price’s house if his bird in’t home.”

the idea of a bunch of lads around the flat wouldn’t have necessarily been a deal breaker, but it was a relief to know it wasn’t going to be often regardless.

the pair of you stayed long enough to order a second drink while you discussed rent prices, tenancy agreements, and simon showed you photos of the area it was in.

“can show you the place now if you don’t need to head home yet?” he’d offered. “not too far to walk from here. could get an idea of the place and see if it fits.”

you’d nodded eagerly and followed him a couple of blocks away to a cosy, hidden away flat near the centre of town. you were surprised it was as cheap as he’d said given the location, but when the water refused to get hot in the kitchen sink when he went to wash a singular mug you soon caught on.

“boiler goes every other month, but i know how to fix it,” he’d said with a sigh, popping the kettle on instead. “taps, radiators ‘n shower all go cold.”

you winced, but it wasn’t enough to put you off. “landlord refuses to get it sorted?”

“landlord doesn’t answer my texts or calls anymore, think he got pissy w’me after i complained about him doin’ fuck all about the single glazed windows to the council few winters back.” you pursed your lips in order to not laugh but simon saw your expression and shrugged unrepentant. “arsehole needed tellin’, di’nt he?”

“i think this place will be perfect,” you settled on saying. you looked out of the nearest window and noted the working locks; the traffic was loud outside but you’d always preferred the constant buzz to send you off to sleep, the few times you’d been camping you’d not slept a wink in the silence.

he told you about the few other residents and explained the shortcuts you could take to get to work or for the shops and by time simon had finished giving you the tour of the place - a deceptively long space towards the back, hiding its double bathroom and bedrooms - you’d noticed it had gotten dark outside. when he noticed your furtive glance however, simon offered to drive you home without a second thought.

and again, not thirty minutes later when you were about to climb out of his truck with one last deep breath of his cologne, he offered to help you move in next week.

if that works for you, he’d said.

you’d started packing as soon as you got inside.

the only issue with moving in with simon - an issue you’d only noticed after having lived together for 6 months already, an issue your friends had to point out to you - was that the dating pool in manchester suddenly seemed a little drab. a little pathetic.

“i really don’t think si has anything to do with the fact that i can’t find anyone i’m interested in when we go out anymore, i think it makes more sense that all the hot women are just no longer single now,” you’d laughed when your friend had suggested it.

sure you thought simon was insanely hot, and that opinion had only solidified after spending the last half a year with him; seeing him braless more often than not beneath his muscle shirts when he lounged around the flat on his off days, pressing closer than necessary after a shower when you tried to pass by in the hallway, working out in the living room grunting and groaning as he hit his push-up goal, sweating and stretching obscenely as you tried to keep your eyes respectfully locked on your phone or the tv.

you were well aware that simon was sexy but more importantly off limits, so you didn’t let it affect your dating life. or so you thought.

“doesn’t help that you barely come out on a night with us,” emma pouted. “even less now that you hang out with simon most evenings.”

“when was the last time you hooked up with someone? even just kissed someone?” ash asked before you could defend your lack of social life, their eyebrow raised as if to prove their point.

you sighed. it had been a while, and taking care of things by yourself wasn’t really working out too well. simon always seemed to come home just when the frustration peaked enough for you to grab your vibrator, and you knew from the girls he’d taken home in the first few months that the walls were in fact thin enough to hear everything. with gritted teeth and wet panties, you always had to put it back in your drawer and wait for another day for some ‘me time’.

quotas for no nut november were being accidentally exceeded so much so that you were heading into catholic nun absolution. it was almost mid may; you needed to find someone to break you out of your funk sooner than later. get over by getting under or whatever.

“we’re not trying to guilt you into coming out with us,” emma added kindly, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “we know you don’t always like the crowd and that’s fine. but we just want you to be getting the dick or pussy that you deserve.”

you snorted and rolled your eyes. “what do you suggest then?”

emma shared a look with ash. “well…”

it hadn’t taken much more convincing from your friends to set up an account for you on tinder after that.

you spent some time on your profile, trying to find the right blend of funny but not too snarky, sexy but still approachable. it was a nightmare but the thought of getting your tits kissed and played with by someone else after almost half a year was enough to keep you on track. you just needed to focus and get it done.

——

as you walked back to your flat with ash after grabbing lunch together, you flicked through the options in your area.

“oh, she’s cute!” ash scrolled through the photos before cackling. “she’s funny too, listen, ‘if you google top places to eat out in the city, i’m the number one spot. better make your reservation quick’.”

you laughed. “oh that’s bad, si would find that funny.”

ash sent you a deadpan stare before going back to the profile. “so swiping right?”

you hummed and glanced at the phone again. “i don’t know, i don’t think she’s my type.”

“the last ten profiles ‘haven’t been your type,’ admit you’re just being picky,” ash pointed out.

“i’ve got standards is all,” you huffed. “i’m not just going to say yes to everyone.”

“she was exactly what you normally go for; strong build, blonde and funny in a dumb way according to the bio, aka you catnip,” they said. “hell, i’m surprised she’s not one of your exes.”

“fuck you,” you laughed and elbowed them. “i don’t even have a type, i don’t know why i said that.”

“oh please,” ash guffawed. “i can and will list the many attributes your exes all share if i have to.”

you sent them a scathing look and they held up their hands in defeat, a smug smile ruining their supposedly conceding pose.

“the only outlier was that weird austrian that i told you not to give the time of day to,” they continued. their face crumpled into a look of disgust, nose wrinkled and eyes pained. “could tell as soon as he opened his mouth that he doesn’t wash his dick.”

you pouted and ground your teeth in a grimace, unable to disagree on any count. he was certainly a lapse in judgement, you wouldn’t deny it.

“i’m just not feeling it, ash. i don’t want to waste her time when i don’t see the attraction. it’s not fair on her.” you shrugged and took back your phone to swipe left. “maybe my type has changed.”

ash stayed quiet a moment, looking contemplative as you both continued walking.

“ok you have a point. there’s no need to waste people’s time, but - and hear me out - everyone on there is just treading water trying to figure out who they want to fuck. she might spend a week talking to you and then ghost,” ash explained.

“great, cheers for that,” you chuffed.

“you know what i mean,” they rolled their eyes. “everyone’s figuring out if they want to go on a date or jump in bed with each other on there, you’re not wasting anyone’s time by giving them a chance. let yourself be wooed.”

“‘wooed’, i’m not looking for a mr darcy,” you joked.

“then actually give these people a shot, it’s not like they’re looking for marriage either,” ash countered. “or maybe you’ve got a specific person in mind distracting you that you’re making unfair comparisons to.”

you glared as you entered the apartment building. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed. you opened the app up again and bit your lip before swiping right on the first five profiles that appeared, showing your friend as you did. “there, happy?”

your phone buzzed and you looked down with wide eyes as all five accounts matched you back. the app directed you to the messaging centre and you looked at ash sheepishly.

“don’t you dare unmatch them,” they warned teasingly, pointing their finger at you with squinted eyes as you waited in the elevator. “go on a few dates and be spoiled for once. if nothing else, you get a good meal and some fresh air.”

you laughed as you finally reached your floor. you unlocked the door to your flat and dropped your coat on the back of a dining chair before slumping on the sofa with ash joining a second after sans their boots and coat.

“fine, fine. i’m on here for a reason, right? i might as well give them a chance,” you agreed a little reluctantly.

“give who a chance?” simon asked as he came from the back of the flat, passing through to the kitchen.

“my lovely bestie is finally on tinder,” ash said with a sharp grin aimed at simon. “hoping to find someone to fuck out the last six months of—“

“yeah thanks, ash! feel free to shut the fuck up, i don’t think simon cares about the details of my sex life,” you interrupted, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“no?” ash asked playing dumb. they pouted and turned back to simon. “my bad.”

you hadn’t noticed simon had grown reserved and quiet at ash’s outburst, too busy trying to save face and distract yourself with thinking of a decent opening message.

“and anyway, i’m just going a few dates first,” you corrected and looked at simon. “so don’t worry about me inviting anyone around to the flat or anything.”

simon nodded tersely before swallowing. “s’fine.” he looked shiftily over to the kitchen before moving to lean over the back of your seat, arms resting behind your head as he peered over your shoulder.

“show me,” he ordered softly. you shivered at the feel of his breath on your neck as he spoke and immediately opened the app again.

you chuffed an unimpressed laugh at the profile that popped up first. “‘want to surprise my boyfriend with a threesome for his birthday, any takers?’ jesus christ, the dating pool is so dire,” you whined.

simon chuckled behind you. “bloke looks like he’d barely be able to handle ya either, look at ‘im. he’d ruin his pants before you even took ya bra off.”

“at least i’d be able to concentrate on the girlfriend then,” you snickered along with him.

“nah, best you’d get from her is a bit o’ tongue for show,” simon said. “can tell by the profile ‘er heart’s not in it.”

you swiped left and simon was immediately ready to point out the failings of this profile too, and then again when you swiped left after laughing along, and again after that.

the way he leant over you blocked your friend from your view, but simon could see the knowing look ash was giving him directly in his peripheral, but he chose to ignore it. especially when he lowered one hand into your lap to start swiping left himself.

you let your free hand rise to play with simon’s long shirt sleeve before you suddenly took in his attire and frowned.

“why are you dressed for work?” you turned to sit on your knees facing the back of the sofa as he rose up to his full height to see him wearing his work trousers and steel-toe boots, his hi-vis vest tucked into his waistband.

“john rang, asked me to cover soap’s shift when he went home sick after lunch. i’ll be back from the lot later; might be late in the evening if i have to go grab a few things for ‘im from b&q before it closes for tomorrow,” he said, contrite.

you pouted heavy and exaggerated. “movie night’s cancelled? fuck you, john price.”

simon snorted, his scarred lip lifting at one side in obvious mirth. “i’ll tell ‘im y’said that, shall i?”

“fine with me, i’m not afraid of him,” you goaded.

“he’s ex military you know,” simon winced jokingly.

you rolled your eyes. “no duh. so are you.”

he hummed a low single note.

“and you wouldn’t let him touch a hair on my head, right si?” you continued shamelessly.

“i’d tell him there’s no point wasting time trying to teach you manners. any time i try to knock some sense into ya noggin it just echoes,” he huffed, holding back a smile as he tapped his knuckles on your crown for emphasis.

you swiped at his fist with a hiss.

“you can piss off to your job already then if you’re going to take the mick,” you laughed. you kept your hands to yourself otherwise, knowing better than to try and push him away after one too many failed attempts. his stomach was always firm enough to keep your best efforts from moving him, but topped with a thick and soft enough layer that it gave way beneath your prodding fingers and roaming palm.

“i’ll make it up t’ya. another night,” he promised lowly, bending down close again to whisper. as your pout lessened he nodded before heading out.

“wooow,” ash exaggerated and lengthened the word sarcastically as they sat watching you slump back to sit normally now that simon was gone. “it’s somehow worse than i thought.”

“hm?”

“does he always fold like a cheap suit when you flash the puppy dog eyes at him?” ash laughed.

“you’re seeing things, he literally just cancelled on me,” you argued and turned to the tv to channel surf. “are you staying for tea? think i’ve got the stuff in for a curry, could pirate that new horror with kyle gallner.”

ash rubbed at their chin. “don’t think i didn’t notice the subject change… but i’m listening.”

——

you got your movie night with si a few days later with the pair of you lounged on the couch, simon’s heavy, long legs draped across your lap as you waited for the take out you’d ordered to arrive.

your phone buzzed with a notification and simon perked up. “food here?”

you took a moment to respond, looking at your phone and tapping away for a second before shaking your head. “no, just a message.”

you phone buzzed again just before you could put it back down and you unlocked it again with a growing smile.

“oh, ‘s emma asking about dog sittin’ again?” he guessed.

“it’s not emma,” you said easily, without further detail, distracted by your phone.

before simon could ask, a knock at the door had him swinging his legs down and heading to grab the bag of food. he grabbed some cutlery from the kitchen on the way back before slumping heavily down next to you, spreading his thighs wide enough to press against yours.

he frowned when he saw you were still engrossed in your phone, a little secretive smile pulling at your lips. at the smell of the food you looked up and your eyes brightened, you put your phone back on the table and ignored it when it buzzed, helping simon instead, sitting back when you had your share and pressing play on your movie. when the phone buzzed twice more in quick succession you bit your lip and glanced at it.

“answer it,” simon said bitingly, having figured out who’d be messaging you by that point. the stupid, bloody app. “but tell ‘em you’re busy with a woman already.”

your eyes widened and you coughed out a surprised laugh. “si.”

“tell ‘em you’re not hanging out with ‘em next week either, you can’t make it. you’re busy with me instead,” he continued, the weight of his hooded gaze heavy and stifling.

“but i’m not busy, we don’t have plans next week,” you said weakly, confused.

simon huffed heavily through his nose. you’d almost think it was bordering on angry but for the entire time you’d known him, simon had never gotten angry at you, even when you accidentally shrunk his brand new sports bra on a too-hot wash.

you both tensed when your phone buzzed again.

“let me turn off my notifications,” you said and reached for the phone furtively. you skimmed your notifications and felt something bloom in your chest at the mention of a date from one of your matches, but you didn’t mention it to simon. “there we go, now we can focus on movie night,” you said with a grin, scooping another forkful of sweet & sour chicken into your mouth.

simon’s shoulders dropped and he nodded. he looked to your half empty glass and stood up. “want me to grab you another drink?”

you smiled, mouth closed and cheeks full of rice, and nodded as he chuckled. he turned away before the urge to poke your puffy cheeks won out and you accidentally spat rice out on the rug.

——

>> any new matches? 👀👀👀

you pursed your lips as you read the text from emma.

<< a few. might have a date next week

<< depends if she plays her cards right

>> lol is it the librarian or the electrician?

<< electrician. might give me mates rates if i ask her to check out the faulty leccy wiring in the flat :p

>> more like dates rates ;)

>> she was cute 😍 where’s the date?

<< she mentioned getting dinner, a new place that just opened up that she said was meant to be cool

>> the thai place? omgggg i’ve been meaning to go! give me ur review after pls and ty

>> and i mean the food, but any dirty deets are welcome too 👀👀

<< ???

<< i haven’t agreed to go yet

>> 🙄 girl…

>> what happened to giving them a chance, ash said you were on board

<< idk si was acting really weird the other day

<< he got really moody about it all, practically told me to fob it all off and just hang out with him instead

<< i think he’s worried

you had been watching a few murder documentaries lately, and one too many of them had started off as innocent dates or first meet ups that ended in tragedy.

>> i think he’s jealous

you stared at the text as your stomach flipped.

<< ???

>> he’s literallyyyy had a huge crush on u since forever

>> this is not news 😐

you scoffed but felt your stomach clench and hesitated to text back.

>> don’t believe me? just watch how he acts around you over the next few days and see if he does any of these repeatedly

emma sent a screenshot from a website listing ‘things she does if she likes you’ and you snorted. it felt trivial, like you were a teenager again, but you decided to play along.

<< fine. but he won’t.

you sent your quick affirmative back before putting your phone down and finishing your break.

the idea of simon liking you was an impossible one in your mind. simon had brought home women from the moment you’d moved in, it had never been a deterrent and he’d always said you were welcome to do the same as long as they didn’t stick around when he had a day off.

recently though, you thought, there’d been less and less women traipsing out of si’s room giggling and flushed, staring adoringly up at the tall butch woman. sadly, you knew exactly how good simon was in bed from the enthusiastic sounds of his previous partners over the months, so you couldn’t blame them for tripping over their feet as they were ushered towards the exit, an eager ‘call me, yeah?’ breathed out just before the door was closed forever.

that was another reason you’d never made a move. even if sometimes there had been moments where you had thought simon’s gaze lingered too long or his touch couldn’t be excused as just friendly; you couldn’t take being a one night stand. not with him, and not when you’d have to move out when your feelings inevitably bubbled over.

you bit your lip as you cooked that evening. simon was chopping the veg for your bolognese as you were left to watch over the pasta - last time you’d burnt it when you’d turned away and gotten distracted and you refused to let simon hold that over you for any longer.

“you know i can go stay at ash’s or with emma and her partner for a day or two if you want,” you offered out of the blue.

simon stopped cutting and looked at you.

“why the fuck would i want tha’?”

you swallowed. “i just noticed you haven’t had many people ‘round recently and thought maybe it was because i was home,” you said, barely meeting his eyes. “so i can make myself sparse for a few days, it’s no bother. i don’t mind.”

“i had johnny over just the other day,” simon said as though you might have forgotten. the boisterous scot had managed to fondly wiggle his way into gaining your friendship the few times he’d popped by for simon. “and gaz and the lads are all coming by next week. y’dont need t’ leave.” he went back to chopping though much more forcefully now, the chopping board dully thumping with each downward cut he made through the courgette.

“yeah… but what about other visitors?” you hedged. “the walls are thin, si, so i thought maybe you’d want the place to yourself again temporarily so you can—“

“no. i don’t want the place to m’self. i like havin’ you here, like hearing you move around in the night and in the mornings,” he interrupted without looking up. “you stay.” he paused for a moment, doubting himself even as you nodded along. “unless you want to go?”

“god no! no, i just thought i should offer,” you laughed a little awkwardly.

he frowned deeper.

“do you want me to go?”

you paused, you mouth flapping like a fish. this was an option you’d not considered. you noticed simon’s eyes grow more and more desperate, his grip on the veg in front of him tightening as he waited for your response.

“no. never, si,” you said.

he watched you a moment more before nodding. “good. wouldn’t have anyway.”

you snorted a laugh and looked back to the spaghetti, hissing when you saw it had stuck to the bottom of the pan. “shit.”

“…tell me you haven’t managed to burn it a second time.”

——

your conversation with simon reminded you of the article emma had sent you. it took less than a week to notice how differently simon acted with others in comparison to how considerate he was with you.

he made the effort to hold eye contact at the start of your conversations, and if you ever paused too long in your reply his eyes would flicker back up from where they’d drifted to his food or phone to check why. you’d never doubted he was always listening, but seeing it first hand reassured you that he was without fail. and it only highlighted, now that you looked for it, how closely he kept to himself when strangers tried to pick up a conversation with him, how he used as few words as possible on the off chance he did reply.

you wouldn’t hesitate to consider simon tactile, soft-handed and gentle. but you knew that was a privilege. the same with his smiles, spotted in flash of crooked teeth or the slow crinkle of his dark eyes paired with the pull of his scar on the occasion he wore his mask.

at your realisation, you began to check the list religiously each night in the safety of your bed as though trying to convince yourself that you hadn’t noticed the way simon mirrored your own behaviour. how he’d lean opposite you in the small kitchen, tilting his head a second after yours as you complained about work, boiling the kettle for a cuppa after a long day.

you’d pretend not to notice him on the phone twenty minutes later, cancelling going out with his friends, again, so he could stay with you while you relax for the weekend.

you found he’d swapped the brand of peanut butter you usually bought after the last one gave you a tummy ache without mentioning it, he’d asked about your grandad’s birthday even though you’d brought it up offhandedly weeks before, he let you run your hands through his hair near his scar when he napped on the sofa. the list went on.

but you’d already agreed to that date with the electrician.

——

“i don’t know if i’ve come down with something, my stomachs not right. i don’t think think i should go,” you complained as you got ready for your date, your phone propped up on your dresser with ash and emma’s faces on screen as you video called. “i feel queasy.”

“that’s just the nerves, you’ll be ok once you get there,” emma soothed.

“want us to meet you afterwards?” ash asked.

“maybe, yeah,” you hummed. “or maybe call me an hour in just in case it isn’t going well so i can have an excuse to leave?”

“how does ‘your long lost brother just woke from a coma and you’re the only one he remembers’ sound?” ash asked.

“dramatic enough for me to make my escape,” you laughed.

“you won’t need it,” emma reassured. “you’ll be too busy flirting and fawning over her muscles to even answer the phone.”

you laughed harder and the ache in your stomach faded ever so slightly as you pulled on your shoes and got ready to leave. simon was still at work, pulling some extra hours to get the job back on schedule after johnny’s time off, which meant the flat was empty as you left.

you bit your lip and headed to the restaurant, waving shyly from the entrance when you saw jessi, the electrician, already seated and waiting on you.

“hey, been here long?” you asked as you took your seat.

“barely five minutes,” she reassured you with an easy smile. “you look stunning, by the way. worth the wait.”

you thanked her, and took in her styled hair and half unbuttoned dress shirt from across the table. you felt a little underdressed in comparison but hid your insecurity when you smiled at her across the table.

“are you always this shy?” she asked when you stayed silent a beat too long, her grin turning sly and teasing.

you laughed a little self depreciatingly and shrugged. “it’s been a little while since i went on a date,” you admitted, butterflies starting to flutter at her sharp gaze.

“i’ll go easy on you then,” she promised and winked before handing you a menu. “what looks good to you?”

——

you’d thought the date was going fine, good, even. the thought of leaving hadn’t crossed your mind and when emma had called you’d screened it and smiled at the winky face she’d sent a moment later.

jessi was fun to talk to; her humour was maybe a little more forced than what you liked but it wasn’t a deal breaker. you’d thought she was enjoying herself too given the flirtatious comments, the lingering looks and how her ankle kept brushing yours.

but just before you could suggest ordering desserts, she stood and grabbed her coat.

“this has been…” she trailed off. “maybe you’re not ready for dating, you know?”

she’d dropped a few twenty notes on the table and left before you could ask what the fuck that meant.

you called over the waiter, covered the rest of the bill and made your own downtrodden exit soon after, dessert suddenly not seeming so appetising.

“tell me you’re going to her house to stay the night and that this is a safety call,” ash said as soon as they answered.

you huffed a sarcastic laugh. “nope.” you popped the ‘p’ and scuffed your toe along the pavement as you walked.

“fuck, this isn’t a good sign then. no dessert?” you heard emma mumble in the background.

“put me on speaker if you two are still hanging out,” you said and hugged your thin jacket tighter with your free arm as you started heading down the dark street towards your apartment.

“how’d it go?” emma asked a moment later.

“i thought it was going good,” you whined. “she was nice, we were chatting, i was engaging! but she just… left?”

“what were you chatting about?” ash asked.

“just the basics; work, friends, hobbies, roommates,” you listed.

“oh god,” emma groaned on the other end of the line. you heard her voice become muffled as though her face was in a pillow as she grumbled, “you didn’t.”

“what?” you asked with a frown. “it was good, she was being flirty.”

“yeah no shit, it was a date,” ash snorted. “how many times did simon come up?”

“don’t start this again—“

“because you were literally talking about him other day when we walked by a black and white cat just because it had little ‘socks’ and it reminded you to do laundry when you got back.”

“i promised to do simon’s while he’s been picking up extra hours,” you defended yourself. “he literally had to walk around shirtless the other week when i forgot to add them in for him.”

“oh, the grown woman who can and often does do his own washing just had to walk around with just a flimsy little sports bra and boxers on all day? sure, sure.” you could practically hear ash roll their eyes. emma snickered in the background and there was a slight shuffling which was never a good sign. “yep, here it is. and i quote ‘the way he’s built… like a damn chew toy. need to sink my teeth in to him, it’s like my jaw buzzes every time i see him with the urge to clamp down on his bicep.’ those are your texts to our group chat from that same day.”

“the texts i send when im ovulating should never be repeated out loud,” you hissed. “and do we really need more evidence that he’s synonymous with my wet dreams now, i’ve already admitted that i like him.”

“so you know this is a safe space,” ash said facetiously. “answer the question: how many times do you think you managed to bring him up in conversation?”

you chewed your cheek in frustration. ash would know if you lied but thinking back on it you didn’t really want to admit how many times you managed to bring up simon for your own dignity.

“look they had the same boots on, ok? and when she talked about her work it was the only way i could try to relate if i told her how simon had mentioned the same things,” you reasoned.

ash cackled on the other end of the phone and suddenly emma was talking while their laughter grew faded.

“have you looked at that list i sent you?” she asked, her tone oddly low and sobering.

“yeah, i can’t stop thinking about it,” you huffed. you paused to cross the street. “but it feels like i’m just making them up because i like him and he’s just being a normal roommate.”

“you’re not and he’s definitely not,” emma chuffed. “and i think you know that too.”

you were silent as you walked, your steps slow and careful even as the bitter cold wind snapped at your cheeks.

“he likes me?” you asked softly.

“no duh,” ash’s voice rang from the background making you laugh. they got closer and you could picture your friends crammed on emma’s shitty little couch as they spoke to you. “why do you think he’s always walking around flexing his muscles like that, huh? we’re in manchester, i don’t care if it’s almost summer, it’s not bloody warm enough for it!”

“and simon has you as his lock screen,” emma added like a 1-2 punch before you had chance to try and explain any of it away. “he always cancels on his mates to see you instead, and don’t get me started on how touchy he is with you.”

“he’s tactile…” even as you said it you didn’t believe it. though you couldn’t keep count of how many times this week alone si had let a warm hand land on your shoulder, knee, back, wrist, neck; you knew he barely touched anyone else.

"girl. simon?" emma snorted probably thinking the same thing as you.

“he likes me,” you said more confidently into the phone.

“oh thank fuck, she’s finally caught on,” ash said as emma laughed.

“i could literally be swapping spit with him right now and instead i’ve just wasted like two hours on a shitty date, oh my god,” you bemoaned.

you don’t know when you’d stopped walking but in a second you were speeding up to a jog as you said goodbye to your friends and hung up, fumbling to put your phone in you bag. eager to get back home and to see simon.

——

you crammed your key into the front door’s lock when you got home and groaned exaggeratedly when it didn’t turn. simon must’ve left his key in the door, again. of all the bloody times.

you knocked hurriedly, loudly, impatiently.

“siiiimon, open the door, come on i’m cold out here, you wouldn’t leave me shivering and lonely just because you forgot to put your key on the keyhook i specifically bought for—“ you cut off your joking whine when the most stunningly beautiful woman you’d ever seen opened the door to you, a knowing smile on her plush lips.

“oh,” you croaked. almost reflexively, your throat closed up and your eyes started to sting. “i must have the wrong flat.”

“what? no, you’re—” her smile dropped slightly and her dark eyes grew curious, but you didn’t stick around long enough to see.

“sorry, my fault! i’m meant to be on the floor above,” you rushed out and pretended to laugh. “silly me. sorry again.” tucking tail you turned to the fire exit at the top of the small staircase without waiting for a reply.

you knew the short staircase lead to the roof, simon had shown you one time and there were enough signs pointing it out. on the other side of the door was a small, flat balcony that stuck out of the slanted roof, and had old metal ladders that dropped 3/4 of the way down along the side of the building, in between the detached restaurant next door.

given you were the top flat in this little rinkydink building the woman at your door had probably thought you were an idiot and you couldn’t blame her. you decided to stick it out for ten minutes outside before sneaking back down and heading over to emma’s with your heart in your hands ready to be mended with the power of friendship and alcohol and food.

you sat down on the shitty little balcony and groaned loudly, desperately holding back your tears lest you fell into a despair and ended up accidentally falling asleep out of exhaustion and dramatics up there instead.

you’d finally realised your feelings and it was too late; simon had clearly taken your previous offers on board and moved on. you’d given him a free night while you went on a stupid date, what else was he going to do since you’ve been continually - though not purposely - pushing him aside like he was disposable.

“fuck,” you sighed shakily.

“date that bad you’re thinking of jumping?”

you swore in surprise and span in your spot to see simon leant in the fire exit doorway.

you couldn’t help but huff a weak laugh. “yeah it was,” you said before looking back down to your hands. “sorry, i didn’t know you were busy or i’d have gone to a friend’s instead.”

simon frowned and stood up straight. “stop saying you want to go somewhere else,” he said stiffly, swallowing thickly before taking the few steps to sit next to you. “when i’m here.” he knocked your shoulders together. “gaz said you freaked out at the door?”

you looked up at him in confusion. “gaz? that was ky— she’s called kylie, not kyle isn’t she?” you asked with wide eyes. simon’s accent had hidden her real name and convinced you all his mates were men and you’d never thought to second guess it. “christ, i thought she was— never mind.”

simon tilted his head as a knowing smile grew on his face.

“you thought i’d brought someone round for a shag?”

“well, she’s very fucking gorgeous,” you said defensively, crossing your arms. he leant his weight further into your side.

“mm. haven’t noticed.” at your unimpressed look he shrugged. “got my eye on someone else, ‘aven’t i?”

you nodded but avoided his eyes. seeing an unknown woman answer your door - gaz or not - had knocked your confidence more than you’d have liked to admit.

simon snorted.

“talk t’me, thought i was meant to be the quiet, brooding one.”

you looked across at him for a moment before leaning in to hug him tightly. you let the scent of his aftershave soak in and sighed when his own arms automatically wrapped around you too.

“you’re an amazing friend, si,” you whispered. and with how close you were pressed together, you easily felt how he stiffened at the title. you squeezed him harder in response, garnering yourself some more confidence at the same time, and sucked in a cold breath to speak. “and i think i’m a little bit in love with you.”

you felt a whoosh of air against your neck as the breath left simon’s body; he went loose in your hold and you buried your head deeper into his shoulder.

he tried to catch your eyes, ducking his head as best he could, but you’d thoroughly tucked yourself in against him as you felt a stinging heat spread from your cheeks outwards, your heart kicking its way through your chest and likely thumping noticeably against his own.

with gentle and patient cajoling, he managed to nudge you back up to face him and you offered up a wobbly smile.

“are you serious?” he asked breathlessly.

you nodded. “i’m sorry it took me so long to reali—“

simon coughed out a wet and surprised laugh and pulled you in for a kiss, his scar catching against your dry lips before you were able to slip your tongue out to wet them briefly. his hands were firm as they cupped your round cheeks, not letting you break for a breath until the very last second, determined to take all he could get before it came crashing down on him.

“y’r an idiot, so fuckin into ya. been a nightmare living with you, unable t’touch,” he mumbled against your lips and suddenly it was your turn to laugh into the kiss.

“unable? all you do is touch me,” you giggled, gasping when he took the chance to flick his tongue against yours.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you huffed. “drives me mad, si.”

“only gonna get worse here on,” he promised. “never taking my hands off ya, off your fat arse and soft tits.”

you sucked in a shaky breath. “fuck.” you’d be dripping like a tap at all times if that was the case and going by simon’s smirk, he knew it.

“i’ve had to deal with your dumb mate fucking teasing me about liking ya for months now too,” he grumbled.

“they’re not dumb.” you leant in to bite his lip meanly. “and i’m sure your friends will be teasing me for what just happened too, never mind me being so blind to be on dating apps while we were practically already together.”

simon groaned. “i fucking hated those apps.”

you kissed him sweetly in apology, a soft peck to the lips then each cheek as he greedily chased your lips.

“they’re gone now. my date was ruined because i could only talk about you the whole time. all i want is you.”

“yeah?” his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them as he tugged your jacket openand slid a hand under your shirt. his rough fingertips teased at the thin material of your bra and your nipples stood to attention under his ministrations and from the chill of fresh air biting at your tummy, bared when his arm rumpled your shirt. “want me right now?”

“always,” you panted. “but…”

you furtively glanced to the door.

“no one comes up here. i can be quick.”

“your friends are waiting,” you reminded him.

“fuck my friends,” he scoffed and tweaked at a nipple, grinning at the squeak you let out.

“would rather fuck you,” you joked weakly even as he pulled his hand back to pluck at your jean’s button and zipper.

“then what are we waiting for?” he asked.

you moaned and gasped when he slipped his hand down the front gusset of your jeans and into your panties before you gained the cognisance to pull it back out with a groan. “later, later,” you promised. “wanna get you naked.”

simon stared at you for a second and you worried he was annoyed at you for putting your foot down. he nodded however, licked his lips as he glanced back to the door and then dipped down to kiss you lightly.

“i’m kicking the lads out then, gimme five.” he stood and took few broad strides to get back to the stairs inside.

you laughed and called after him as he darted back down, taking two at a time as you followed with a grin, struggling with your jeans. “si, don’t be daft.”

“smartest move i’ve made in a long time.” he said as he walked back in to your flat. “everyone out. want some time wiv my girl.”

“ayy congrats!” soap called from the couch.

“that means now, soap.”

“don’t hafta tell us twice,” the scot stood with a slap to his knees and saluted simon on his way out. “ye coming, ky?”

“it was nice meeting ya,” gaz said as she wandered past, winking. you hid your hot cheeks in your shoulders but couldn’t help the flustered grin that spread as simon barely waited for the door to be closed before shedding his shirt, leaving him in a sports bra and his baggy trackies.

“get comfy. not letting ya leave til i’ve had m’fill.”

“funny you think it won’t be me dragging you back for more. let’s see if you can keep up, si. i’ve been told i’m pretty demanding.”

“always loved a challenge.”

you grinned wickedly. “come and get me then.”

butch/stud masterlist

updated mood board below (kept working on it after seeing kitty’s absolutely fantastic oc mood board and felt inspired by them!)

[delicourse]

lesbian pride moment 😳🌸

[grmpgm]

[pestorik]

*trumpet noises* THEY'RE HERE! twisted wonderland cat stickers now available on etsy! available as a full set, or by individual character and dorm.

*stickers are cut by hand, borders may vary*

DISCLAIMER: In order to provide free shipping, these stickers are packaged in stiff envelopes. This means there is no tracking available. If you prefer to have tracking, please message me on etsy directly.

[sluckythewizard]

PART OF A BIGGER DOODLE PAGE. WHEN ITS DONE ILL TUCK THE LINK INTO THIS LITTLE X RIGHT HERE ----> [X] I REALLY REALLY LOVE THE TOM N JERRY DYNAMIC W EMIZEL N VEX. IMAGINE BEING SO SO HAUNTED BY A LITTLE GUY THATS JUST SSSSOO FUCKING ANNOYING.

[pinacoladamatata]

If Solas doesn't have a satisfying ending I'm not even going to post about it. Like ever. I will simply cease to post all dragon age content and we will pivot to like, elder scrolls or Enderal or smthn

(to be clear;this is my worst timeline option)

[arkaniske]

Say it like you Mean It

AO3 Link \\\ Chapter Six: Language of Flowers.

4700 words \ SFW \ Jayvik Beta read by @kitcatkim

Summary: Five times Jayce brought flowers for Viktor and one time Viktor brought flowers for Jayce.

The language of flowers was an unnecessary invention. That had been Viktor’s belief for most of his life, a sentiment born out of practicality. Flowers were ephemeral, delicate things, wilting long before their meanings could take root. Why rely on something so transient to convey emotions when words carefully chosen and expertly delivered, could convey so much more?

Chapter One: Daffodils \\\ Chapter Two: SunflowersChapter Three: Bluebells \\\ Chapter Four: GardeniasChapter Five: Camellia \\\ Chapter Six: Red CamelliasChapter Seven: Language of Flowers

The language of flowers was an unnecessary invention. That had been Viktor’s belief for most of his life, a sentiment born out of practicality. Flowers were ephemeral, delicate things, wilting long before their meanings could take root. Why rely on something so transient to convey emotions when words carefully chosen and expertly delivered, could convey so much more? Of course, Viktor understood the sentimental value of a rose, but it was not one he had felt tug at his own heart.

That was, of course, until Jayce Talis made his grand appearance. The language of flowers had become unavoidable, inescapable, even. It had wound its way into Viktor’s life with every bloom his partner had left in his wake, like roots taking hold of his heart. Each offering had been a puzzle wrapped in fragrance and colour.

Viktor really loves puzzles.

It was no surprise, then, that when Jayce handed him the first flower Viktor had found himself drawn to the mystery of it all. At first, it had been nothing more than a simple curiosity. The flower had come out of nowhere but as Jayce had rambled on about finished projects and breakthroughs, Viktor had picked up on a carefully slipped-in word. Symbolism. Jayce, the Golden Boy of Piltover, Man of Progress, caring about the symbolism of a flower. Not just that, he cared about what it would mean should it be gifted to Viktor.

This piqued Viktor’s interest.

As more flowers followed, each one layered with intentions, Viktor had realised this was more than just a fleeting whim. It was more than just his partner’s latest obsession bleeding into their everyday life. There was care to it, depth even. Jayce was desperately trying to speak to him and all Viktor had to do was solve the riddle presented to him.

And that is what led him here, to the book now resting in his hands.

It was an old thing, the spine cracked and the pages worn thin, a rare relic of a life he hadn’t brought himself to think of in many years. Among the few possessions he had kept from his mother’s passing, this book had lingered in his collection. She had been sentimental to her core, always finding beauty in small things—pressed flowers between book pages, trinkets collected from the markets, a well-worn book on flora she swore by. He still found comfort in creating space for her memory in his life, to know that she could still guide him even in her absence.

The book stayed. No matter how tall the walls he built around his heart, the softness he had inherited from her still found its way through. The memories of her delicate fingers thumbing through the pages, a faint smile on her lips as she recited the name of the flower, its uses and, at last, its meaning. He remembered her spending hours writing in the margins of the book as she learned the meaning of a new bloom. Back then, he had dismissed it as one of her whims, a charming distraction to occupy her. He realised now it had been one of her ways of connecting with the world—quiet, deliberate, and deeply meaningful.

Now, the book, heavy in his hands and filled with meanings that seemed to whisper gently back at him, was forcing him to reconsider what he thought he knew of flora. Each flower Jayce had given him had nudged open a door he hadn’t realised was locked, and the book had become a guide through the uncharted territory Jayce had created.

His mother would have laughed softly at him, perhaps given him a loving tease about his sudden interest in something he once had no time for. She would have called it fate, or something equally sentimental, always eager to romanticise the quiet threads of connection that wove through life. Viktor didn’t believe much in fate, but as his thumb brushed the entry of a red camellia, he couldn’t deny that perhaps… His mother had seen truths he once had overlooked.

The words were staring back at him. Unyielding love. His mother’s handwriting, looping and intricate, filled in the meaning of the flower in the margins.

A daring flower for a daring heart. The kind of love that can change everything, if you’re brave enough for it.

Perhaps he could find it in his sentimental heart to believe in fate like his mother would have done. His gaze drifted over to the bouquet beside him. Vivid and unapologetic, their message impossible to ignore. Like an invitation to feel more. Even now, Viktor couldn’t help the faint pull at his emotions over Jayce’s boldness. Leaving no room for doubt anymore.

There was only space for Viktor to respond.

\\\

The sound of the lab door creaking announced Jayce’s arrival, his steps hesitant but unmistakable. Viktor didn’t glance up immediately, though the sound tugged faintly at the corner of his thoughts. He was sitting by their shared desk, eyes focused on the book in his hands as if the scribbled words could bring him a last moment of comfort.

“You are late.” Viktor broke the silence without looking up, his tone carrying a deliberate neutrality. His fingers slid down to the edge of the page as if the texture might anchor his scattered thoughts. The shuffling footsteps faltered, a momentary hitch that Viktor caught before he turned the page.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that…” Jayce answered, his voice softer than usual. “Didn’t sleep great.”

Viktor rose from the chair to face Jayce. He finally allowed himself to glance over to his partner standing on opposite side of the room. It was easy to spot the nervous tension in Jayce’s shoulders, the way his eyes flickered with uncertainty around the room. Viktor followed that flicker, noting the way it returned over and over to the bouquet of camellias resting on the desk. His heart gave a quiet, inexplicable tug at the sight of him. Ah, there it is, Viktor thought, the weight of things unsaid.

“Did the flowers keep you awake?” Viktor asked lightly, a subtle fracture in their charade. It was the first direct acknowledgement of the flowers’ meaning, a quiet revelation that he understood their weight, and now Jayce knew that he knew.

Jayce’s reaction didn’t disappoint. His ears turned a telltale red and he quickly shook his head. “No! No, I—uh, I just…” Viktor watched as Jayce stuttered through his words, trying his very best to come up with an excuse. In the end, he gave up, mouth shutting closed. “Maybe…” Jayce’s voice was so quiet Viktor barely caught it. His partner’s nervous energy filled the space between them like static energy of an overcharged power regulator.

“Hm…” Viktor hummed, a low sound that carried more weight than it should. He held his steady gaze on Jayce, watching the man all but squirm under it. For a moment he expected amusement to grow in his chest but no—instead he found himself overwhelmed with endearment. It was disarming, how someone so bold and unyielding like Jayce could falter so entirely in matters of the heart.

The soft thud of Viktor closing the book was enough to snap Jayce’s attention back to him. His eyes narrowing at the worn cover as if it might explain itself. Viktor studied him silently, watching the realization slowly take hold. Last time he had been subtle like this it had taken a moment. But he could wait.

Viktor waited.

Jayce stared.

Viktor waited some more, allowing himself the faintest of smirks. Jayce all but gasped loudly, breaking the fragile quiet. For a moment, it looked like he had entirely shut down, his thoughts scrambling for purchase as though Viktor had short-circuited him. He watched the realisation dawn on Jayce like the slow bloom of a flower. His partner’s lips parted as if to speak, then closed again and Viktor could see the gears turning, piecing together what was in front of him.

“Is that—?” Jayce trailed off, his words catching in his throat as his mind seemed to race ahead of his mouth. “Is flowers? Book on flowers?” The phrase sounded ridiculous as he said it and Viktor allowed a smile to crack his neutral expression. “It is.” His voice remained calm. “Ah, more specifically symbolic meanings.” His calm delivery only making Jayce’s reaction so much more delightful.

Jayce blinked rapidly, his eyebrows shooting upwards. “And you’ve been reading it?” His voice climbed a pitch, “Like—actually reading it?”

“I have.” Viktor acknowledged with a subtle nod. “It belonged to my mother. She always had her way of finding meanings in the smallest things, an appreciation for connections others might overlook. It has been… Useful in navigating, well, you.” Viktor’s eyes flickered to the flowers once more. Vivid against the muted tones of the lab. He had to remind himself to slow his breath.

Jayce’s gaze darted to the flowers, then to the book and finally to Viktor’s eyes. His throat bobbing as he swallowed. “Does that mean…?” The question died halfway, as if finishing it might make the situation heavier. Viktor’s sharp eyes caught the slight tremble to his partner’s fingers.

“It means,” Viktor began, his voice softening to soothe Jayce’s worry, “that I have been paying attention, Jayce. Perhaps more than you realised.”

Jayce’s nervous laugh was almost a relief in the tense air between them. “A-ah… That’s… That’s good, right?” He asked with as much confidence he could muster, voice still holding a light tremble to it as if testing the weight of Viktor’s words.

There was something so profoundly endearing in Jayce’s nervous energy, how someone so bold and confident in the public eye could falter so completely here, in the quiet space between them. How out there he could be everyone’s charming Jayce but in here? In the soft silence of their lab, between petals and golden thread? This was a side of Jayce only meant for Viktor’s eyes.

“Good?” Viktor echoed; he felt the amusement linger in his tone. Even now, Jayce was standing with no flowers to hide behind and he wanted to know if he did good. “I would think so, considering the effort you have put in it.”

Jayce blinked, head tilting. Viktor could only imagine the thoughts going through his head, searching for the effort it had taken him to deliver flowers. Gods he’s precious when confused, Viktor tried not to smile at his own thoughts. Jayce shook his head before speaking; “I wouldn’t say it was that much effort-“

With a simple raise of his eyebrow Viktor cut off whatever dismissing statement Jayce was about to say. “Daffodils, sunflowers, bluebells, gardenias…” Viktor continued by subtly gesturing to the red blooms next to him. “You have gifted me quite the collection. Each one with a meaning, each one deliberate. It has not gone unnoticed.”

“Oh…uh- I didn’t think you would…” Jayce answered, shifting in his place as his thumb started rubbing comforting little circles into his own palm. “I-I mean. I wasn’t sure… I thought you might find it dumb or- I don’t know? Too much? Not enough, maybe…”

“Not enough?” Viktor stared at him in disbelief. Did they go to the same event? Did Jayce not see the pride which Viktor carried his patterns? He quite literally walked the halls of the gala like a trademarked Talis just for Jayce. Viktor couldn’t bring himself to say any of that, however. “Jayce, you gave me a Gardenia. That is not subtle. That is, in fact, quite a message.”

Jayce’s lips parted, as though he meant to speak, but nothing came out. Viktor allowed himself a small smirk. He had spent countless hours parsing the meanings Jayce had gifted him, the hidden confessions wrapped in petals and scent. It had been a puzzle, yes, but one layered with tenderness and vulnerability. He preferred to be composed, methodical even, but Jayce always had a way of disarming him. Of making every moment feeling alive.

Viktor allowed the moment of silence between them to stretch, watching the ever-blushing Jayce stare back at him. It pulled at his heart, striking something tender within him. How many times had Jayce worn his heart on his sleeve, unguarded and vulnerable, even when he didn’t realise it? And how often had Viktor sidestepped the invitation to meet him halfway in fear of hoping too much? In desperation to protect his own sentimental heart?

Jayce was already standing halfway waiting. All Viktor had to do was to follow the bond that tethered them together.

“You,” Viktor began, his voice quieter now as he found himself nervously tracing fingers across the spine of his book, “make even the smallest thing feel important. Brighter, warmer—like they matter more because you touched it. It is… eh, infuriating, in a way.”

Jayce opened his mouth, Viktor assumed to apologise. “Infuriating,” he quickly continued before the other man had a chance to speak, “because… It leaves no space to hide. No corner to retreat to. Everything you do, every flower or every look or every touch, it demands attention. Demands feeling.” Viktor paused as he could feel himself getting flustered with the vulnerability of the moment. Exposed. Nervous. Was this how Jayce felt every time he’d brought a flower? Every time he’d let his heart show? He looked at Jayce carefully. His heart stuttered. Jayce was looking at him like he was hanging the moon and stars with every word. More feelings to be demanded. He felt unsteady.

“Even as I told myself I preferred my solitude, you… made it impossible. You, Jayce. Are impossible not to feel. Everything you do. Everything you are. I-“ It was Viktor’s turn to have his sentence trail off. He felt his own breath grow heavy in his chest, and for just a moment, he considered retreating, drawing back to the safety of quiet gestures and unsaid truth. But he knew, no matter where he went, no matter how tall the walls around his heart might grow—He would always seek Jayce out in the end.

“You are extraordinary.”

The words left Viktors lips before he could even think, aching with affection for his partner. Jayce’s breath hitched loudly with the gentle confession, his eyes searching Viktor’s face with an intensity that felt like gravity, pulling Viktor closer even as he fought to keep his composure. He could so easily give in, cross the room and find himself by Jayce’s side but—no. Viktor had a plan, and he was determined not to let Jayce derail him from delivering the confession he intended to give his partner.

Viktor took a deep breath before he turned slightly to the side to comfortably place the book on their desk. The motion revealing something hiding behind his frame. A small bouquet resting on the edge of the table.

Jayce’s attention was immediately locked on the flowers, eyes wide with surprise and something Viktor couldn’t quite read. The arrangement was modest but purposeful. Delicate Lily of the Valley, soft blues of Forget-Me-Not and the bold red of a Chrysanthemum. Viktor looked from Jayce and over to the blooms, his heart beating like a hummingbird in his chest.

“Viktor—I…” Jayce said his name like a plea, voice so thick with emotion Viktor wasn’t sure if the man was about to laugh or cry. His partner’s expression almost twisted into pain from yearning, he couldn’t ignore the light tremble to his frame either. Jayce was just about to crumble.

No more hiding behind walls, petals, or cautious words. No more.

“I have spent some time thinking of how to give back to you.” Viktor said, his voice soft, steadier than he felt. “How…To speak a language you have already mastered.” He carefully picked up the bouquet, holding it as if it was something precious. Viktor’s gaze met Jayce’s as the words hung in the air between them. The warmth in his partner’s eyes made his chest ache with the distance between them.

 “I believe it is my turn, now.” Viktor stepped closer.

“Lily of the Valley,” Viktor began. His gaze fell to the white blooms nestled in the bouquet, white bells arching gracefully along slender green stems. “They are for sweetness, for returning to happiness. For the joy you have brought into my life, Jayce.” Although he had never heard his mother speak the words aloud, he could almost hear her voice now, gently reciting the lily’s entry as if she was beside him. A quiet kind of joy, the kind that fills the spaces you didn’t know were empty. A reminder that true happiness often whispers instead of shouts.

He took another step, cane tapping softly against the ground. Drawn to the warmth and presence of the man before him, Viktor continued. “Forget-Me-Not,” His voice felt raw with emotions, “they hold the meaning of always remembering you. Of how even in your absence, your presence lingers with me.”

The tiny blue blossoms seemed impossibly delicate as he turned the bouquet slightly, letting the light catch the soft hues. This one he had heard his mother speak once, her voice soft in his mind as he reminded himself. A flower for the memories that cling to us, for when we are apart but still hold each other. To hold this flower and say, ‘Not for a moment will I forget you, ever.’

He swallowed, his golden eyes meeting Jayce’s fully now. The man stood still; his eyes fixed on Viktor with awe. “Even when you are not here… you are.”

His eyes lowered to the deepest hue of the bouquet, his thumb lightly tracing the bold red petals as if they might lend him the courage to continue. Viktor took his final step, coming to a halt before Jayce, close enough now to feel the warmth radiating from him like the sun itself. He had closed the distance. Now he just needed the words. “And these…” His breath caught, and for the first time, he felt himself break just a little under the weight of the flowers. For a love that demands courage. It does not come subtly, but boldly, asking you to risk everything—but it is worth everything. “Red Chrysanthemums.” The words left him as a little more than a whisper, the name heavy on his tongue. “They mean—” He paused, heat rising unbidden to his face as his chest tightened. He had prepared for this, every word carefully chosen, every thought rehearsed. It should have been simple. The meaning of the red bloom stuck somewhere between his chest and throat, and he couldn’t understand why. He couldn’t have come this far just to go still, could he? He felt the flower bloom in his heart. The meaning burned warmer than any ember could.

I love you.

“I love you.”

Viktor’s eyes widened at the rough tone of Jayce’s voice as he spoke. His attention snapped back to the man in front of him only to have his heart stutter. Jayce was looking at him with a smile so pure, so brilliant, it was almost too much to bear. It was the kind of joy that seemed to overflow, unrestrained, pooling in the corners of his eyes as if a single blink would release the tears clinging on to his lashes. “I love you,” Jayce said again, the words tumbling from his lips like they had been locked away for too long, finally free. His voice cracked, but he didn’t seem to care. “I love you—Viktor— I-” Viktor’s breath caught in his chest, his mind spinning as his body moved before he could think better of it. The flowers in his hands slipped from his grasp, forgotten as they fell to the floor. His cane meeting the same fate as he let it go, his hand suddenly too preoccupied with something far more important. He closed the space between them in a single purposeful step and reached for Jayce. His hand found purchase at the collar of Jayce’s shirt and there was no resistance as he pulled the other man close with desperation. Viktor’s lips crashed against Jayce’s in a kiss unrestrained and unapologetically raw. It was though all the emotions Viktor had kept locked at bay, all the feelings he had neglected to voice, spilled forth in one singular act. Jayce let out a surprised, breathless sound that quickly melted into something deeper. One hand instinctively gripping Viktor’s waist while the other found the back of his head, fingers threading into the soft curls at the base of his neck. Viktor melted. The kiss was everything and nothing like he had imagined—messy, uncoordinated and yet so profoundly grounding it made his head spin. Jayce’s lips were soft and warm, moving against his own with a tenderness that contrasted the intensity of what they both felt. Viktor tilted his head, deepening the kiss. He poured into it everything he had no words for, a silent confession of his heart. The fingers curling in Jayce’s collar became a plea to never leave, his other hand coming to rest at the man’s jaw as a promise to cherish him, the kiss becoming a promise to nurture whatever might grow between them.

Jayce pressed closer, his broad hand splaying over Viktor’s back, pulling him in like they couldn’t possibly be close enough. The heat between their bodies burning bright with the shared affection. Viktor felt ablaze with every touch, every press of lips—It wasn’t just the wall of petals Jayce had burned down but the very walls around Viktor’s sentimental heart. Jayce was keeping him so warm. So at home. Viktor couldn’t imagine a world where he felt cold or alone again.

Viktor had half a mind to chase after Jayce as the man pulled away, instead he was soothed with small butterfly light kisses to his cheekbone and right above his upper lip. Warmth lingering long after his partner’s lips left, and he couldn’t help the soft chuckle of joy.

“Please say it back.”

Jayce’s voice, thick with emotion, broke the quiet. His breath ghosting against Viktor’s lips as he spoke.

Viktor opened his eyes, tilting his head slightly to meet Jayce’s pleading gaze. A flicker of amusement danced in his own as he let a smile curl over his lips. “Eh, flowers not enough for you now?” he teased gently, his voice softer than what usually weaved through his playfulness.

“Please.” Jayce repeated, his trembling, his eyes shining with something vulnerable that Viktor felt his heart twist.

The teasing fell away quickly as Viktor let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing against Jayce’s cheek, wiping away a tear neither of them acknowledged.

“I love you.” He said simply, but his voice carried all the weight of the moment, all the meaning the flowers and kisses couldn’t convey.

Jayce’s eyes fluttered shut, a laugh slipping through his parted lips, half a sob and half relief. “Viktor—I…” He began, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His large frame trembling ever so slightly with relief. Viktor surged forward, cutting him off with another kiss. This one was slower, sweeter, an affirmation wrapped in tenderness. His hand slipping from Jayce’s collar and coming to rest over his heart, feeling the steady and strong beat beneath his palm. He could feel his partner soften in his hands, melting into the moment like he’d found the place he belonged. It almost made him weep with how soft it all was. How deeply comforting it was to find the soul that mirrored your own.

The kiss stayed soft and light, every moment deliberate and unhurried. Viktor tilted his head slightly, his nose brushing against Jayce’s cheek as he savoured the closeness. It was as though time had slowed, the world reduced to just them and the quiet, electric hum of their connection.

Between the press of lips, Viktor caught faint murmurs—soft, barely audible whispers that sent a rush of warmth over him.

“I love you—I love y—love,” Jayce muttered, the words slipping free like a mantra, unbidden but true.

Viktor exhaled against Jayce’s mouth, a sound that carried equal parts affection and quiet disbelief. He allowed himself to pause, just briefly, to take in the sight of the man before him. His partner’s eyes were shut, lashes brushing against his cheeks and a flush painted his skin, vibrant and full of life. It was staggering, raw and beautiful in a way Viktor couldn’t put into words.

Jayce’s lips found his again, and Viktor couldn’t stop the quiet laugh that spilled between them. “You are relentless.” Viktor murmured as if sharing a secret meant only for the two of them. Jayce pulled back just enough to meet Viktor’s gaze. The amber of his eyes eaten up by the blacks of his pupils. “I mean it,” his voice was low now, hand brushing against Viktor’s as it rested over his chest, interlocking their fingers. “Every time. I mean it.” It was so honest. “I believe you.” Viktor answered, he had no other choice but to believe Jayce. How could he not? Every action, every glance, every flower had led them here, to this moment. Viktor didn’t just believe Jayce, he felt the love. It was rolling off his partner like waves of water to drown in, to submerge in and never return to the surface. Their foreheads came to a rest, soft breaths sharing the air between them as they simply basked in each other’s orbit. Neither spoke, silence filled with something vibrant, something alive. When their eyes met, the sheer joy reflected in Jayce’s gaze made Viktor’s lips twitch into a smile. Jayce broke into a grin first, wide and unrestrained, and Viktor couldn’t help but mirror it, a quiet laugh escaping him as the weight of the moment gave away to something lighter. Jayce’s shoulder shook with a soft, bubbling laughter, and Viktor let himself lean into the joy. His own chuckles joining the sound. “You are amazing.” Jayce said between breaths, his grin so wide it threatened to split his face. “I mean it, Viktor. The flowers—I—” Viktor’s smile softened, a warm glow settling over his features. “Mm, well, I cannot take full credit. Julianna helped.”

Jayce blinked, pulling back just enough to look at him properly, his expression shifting into surprise. “Wait—you know Julianna?” Viktor’s smirk returned, playful and sharp. “Of course. You think I would entrust something as delicate as your feelings just to anyone?” Jayce sputtered, torn between laughing and looking scandalised. “I—she never said anything! Did you… Did you plan this with her?” Viktor chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Plan? No, not exactly. She was eh… Enthusiastic in the supply of flowers.” He admitted, his voice carrying a faint note of pride as he continued, “but I chose them. Their meanings, their purpose—those were mine.”

He watched as his partner’s eyes shifted from surprise to something softer, almost awestruck in nature. Jayce’s cheeks flushed deeper as his gaze darted between Viktor’s eyes and the playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Gods,” Jayce whispered, “I’m so in love with you.” Before Viktor could respond Jayce leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss filled with laughter and warmth. Their smiles growing so wide it broke through the kiss, leaving them both simply basking in the joy of each other. “You are unyielding,” Viktor murmured again, amusement and affection weaving through his words like golden thread on a tailored lapel.

“You’re breathtaking.” Jayce replied with a grin, words light enough to be carried on petals and stems. The language of flowers had once been nothing more than a charming indulgence, fragile, fleeting and impractical. But now, Viktor understood. It wasn’t about the flowers themselves, or the meanings written beside their names in the margins of old books. It was about the hands that chose them, the care that carried them, the courage it took to offer them. The flowers would wilt, their petals falling away, but what they had carried—the weight of emotions, of affection, of love—that would remain. It would take root in the space they had created, growing into something more enduring that either of them could imagine. Viktor smiled as Jayce’s soft chuckle filled the room. Yes, he thought, sometimes even a practical heart could bloom.

[sketchthetofu]

Woah Sketch drawing more fanart of PD aus? Crazy- anyway got inspired by this Prime Destroyers ask and had to draw it <3. Au is @a-cat-in-toffee ‘s and I love it very much :D!!!

[itsjaywalkers]

offering u some jegulus pirates of the caribbean au (except not exactly but u do get one of the scenes from the first movie) || 3677 words || no cws apart from james being a menace and regulus praying for his downfall (while also being lowkey attracted to him very much against his will)

“But he saved my life!” Regulus insists, starting to feel a little desperate, eyes jumping from his father, to Commodore Lucius, to the stranger who had jumped into the sea to stop him from drowning. 

“Yes, Regulus, we heard you the first time,” his father sighs, barely hiding the roll of his eyes. It’s enough to make some heat flood into Regulus’ cheeks, and he has to repress the urge to pout, or even worse, stomp his foot. “But, son, come on. Look at the state of him. You’d have to be incredibly naive to not realise he isn’t a good man.” 

“I resent that,”  the stranger pipes in, grabbing everyone’s attention. Not like the soldiers’ has been anywhere else since they stormed in. “Why, Governor, appearances can be deceiving.” 

Regulus cringes slightly, and it’s not because of his wet clothes, or the cold already seeping into his bones, despite having his father’s, Orion, coat over his shoulders. Or, well, not entirely because of that. 

The scold twisting his father’s harsh features is enough to make him want to curl into himself, or at the very least, take a step back. Regulus has been the target of that specific expression more times than he can count, even though he always does his best to remain out of the spotlight. Always seen, but never heard. That’s how his parents prefer him. The only way they can somehow tolerate him. 

He’s not his brother, after all, as everyone seems so set on reminding him. Sirius might be brash, and insolent, and sometimes border on rebellious, but he’s the perfect leader. Loved and respected by all. Everyone adores him, even their parents, despite barely being capable of it, and Regulus can’t say he blames them.

Maybe that’s why he’s speaking up now, trying to do the right thing for once, even though every part of him fought against the mere idea. Regulus thinks Sirius will be proud of him, as soon as he returns from his trip and Regulus tells him all about it.

He can’t help but wish he was here with him. Everything feels less scary when his older brother is at his side. 

Before his father has the chance to open his mouth, possibly to obliterate the kind stranger that risked his life to save Regulus’, Lucius steps forward, a blonde, nearly white eyebrow arched at the unknown man. 

“Deceiving, you say?” he repeats in a drawl, nose turned up in what can only be disgust. Really, Regulus can’t understand what his cousin sees in him. “I suppose we should at least give you the benefit of the doubt.” Lucius gives him a tight-lipped smile. “I believe thanks are in order, then.”

Lucius extends one arm, if a bit begrudgingly, offering his hand to the stranger. Regulus’ eyes widen a little at the gesture, and he can feel his father glaring at Lucius’ back with such ferocity it almost makes him shiver. 

Regulus can’t say he blames him. Lucius isn’t disobeying direct orders, mostly because Orion hasn’t said anything concrete, but it comes way too close for comfort. 

The stranger eyes the hand with clear wariness, but he still grins and nods a little, before reaching out to give Lucius’ hand a firm shake. 

They’ve barely made contact with each other when Lucius grips the stranger harshly, pulling him closer and raising the sleeve of his undershirt up, revealing a branded ‘P’ on his forearm. Regulus can’t quite repress the tiny gasp that escapes his lips.

Lucius’ smile becomes wider, sharper, as he watches the suddenly sheepish stranger with no little amount of satisfaction. “Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we, pirate?

Regulus grimaces at the word almost at the same time as the stranger winces. He didn’t give it too much thought at first, because he had swallowed a lot of water, and had been too busy coughing it all out to properly notice, but he supposes the man’s attire kind of gives him away. 

He wears a red bandanna around his forehead, keeping messy black curls off his face, and many strands of his hair seem to be adorned with beads and colourful trinkets. His hazel eyes seem to possess a mischievous glint in them, and Regulus thinks that, under different circumstances, he might’ve found it charming, considering it sort of reminds him of Sirius. He also sports a short, but definitely unkempt beard all around his mouth. 

He takes a peek at his father’s face, and it doesn’t startle Regulus, discovering him looking so smug. 

His words aren’t unexpected, either, but they still fill him with dread.

“Hang him,” Orion orders swiftly, almost bored, and the stranger clicks his tongue, more inconvenienced than scared. 

Lucius lets out a low chuckle. “Keep your guns on him,” he tells his men, without even bothering to check if they’ll listen. They always do, anyway. “And someone fetch me some irons!”

He raises the sleeve a little higher, and Regulus manages to catch sight of ink on brown skin, something that he’s sure resembles a bird, before Lucius is pulling down the cotton once more. 

“James Potter, is it?” he questions blandly, nose wrinkling in distaste. 

“Captain James Potter,” the pirate corrects a bit sharply, lips stretching into another one of those charming smiles. “Sir,” he adds forcibly, almost as an afterthought. 

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t see a ship, captain.” Lucius makes a show of looking around, some of his men laughing under their breaths. 

The pirate’s, James’, smile never falters. “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it don’t exist.” 

Lucius gives him an incredibly flat stare, but James doesn’t wilt under it, doesn’t even react, really, and instead continues to hold the Commodore’s gaze. 

“Quite sad that I can’t even tell if you’re lying to me or just yourself.” Lucius shakes his head softly. 

James opens his mouth, presumably about to retort, when a sudden uproar between the soldiers draws his attention. Even Regulus’ fathers turns around, seeking the origin of all the fuss, and finally putting some distance between him and Regulus. 

“Commodore!” One of Lucius’ men exclaims, everyone around him making way for him hastily. “I found—I found the pirate’s things!” 

Lucius doesn’t take his eyes off James, not even for a single second, but he raises both eyebrows, clearly pleased by this information. When the soldier finally reaches them, Lucius doesn’t waste a single moment and begins to search through the pirate’s belongings, taking some pleasure in the way James’ expression twitches at the action. 

Regulus’ body leans forward almost unconsciously, and he feels a bit embarrassed by how curious he is about this whole scene. If his father weren’t so distracted, he would’ve scolded him by now. 

“A gun with no additional shots,” Lucius murmurs dryly, eyes fleeting from the weapon on the soldier’s arms to James. “A rusty sword and a hat. What a pathetic excuse of a pirate.”

James raises a hand, and the men flanking him go tense all over, squinting their eyes at him. 

“And yet you have heard of me,” he points out with an easy smile, which, well, it’s not untrue. 

Lucius levels him with an unimpressed glare, while James continues grinning widely. Regulus is as stiff as most of Lucius’ men, unsure of what’s gonna happen next, of how long they’re gonna keep throwing jabs at each other until either of them snaps.

Apparently, Lucius has already had enough, because he grabs James by the wrist once again, even more forcibly than before, and starts dragging him away. His men part to let him pass like it’s second-nature, and Regulus can see Lucius is headed to the other side of the crowd, where one of the soldiers is holding some irons. 

Regulus moves before he has the chance to think about it. 

He runs after Lucius and James, ignoring the startled looks all the men give him, and pretending he doesn’t hear his father call his name in outrage, or the noise of his steps as he follows a moment later. 

The heavy coat falls from his shoulders at some point during his little race, and he can only hope that either his father or one of the soldiers manages to take a hold of it before it touches the floor. The punishment for dirtying one of Orion’s coats might not be the worst his father has done to him, but it won’t be fun regardless.

Regulus has never been as athletic, or as strong, as his brother, but he’s fast and nimble, so he manages to slip in between Lucius and the man holding the irons, halting the advance. Lucius stops, James almost crashing into his back and sending them both tumbling.

“Regulus—” he starts, careful but with an edge in his tone.

“Pirate or not, this man saved my life,” Regulus cuts him off, panting a little but making sure to raise his chin proudly, like his mother has always taught him. 

Lucius blinks at him, before exhaling loudly through his nose. He pulls James from behind him, and with a firm move of his head, the man with the irons rushes from behind Regulus, getting ahold of James quickly and binding his wrists together. Regulus watches for a second before whipping his head around and narrowing his eyes at Lucius. 

“Regulus,” the Commodore tries once more, infusing his voice with something that’s too curt to be considered patient. “I admire your kindness. I truly do. But one good deed is not enough to redeem someone of an entire lifetime of wickedness, and I can assure you, this man does not deserve your mercy.”

Regulus bites his lower lip, eyes pleading at Lucius’ impassive face. “But—”

“You foolish, insolent, little—” his father hisses, fingers curling around his forearm and gripping harshly. 

Orion begins to pull, attempting to get him away from both Lucius and James, and probably drag him back to the house so he can scold him properly. Maybe even punish him. 

Regulus resists, planting his feet firmly on the ground even as his father’s gaze turns furious. He hears Lucius let out an irritated huff at the display, but it doesn’t last long, because one moment Regulus is struggling against his father’s ruthless grip, and the next one there’s a heavy chain around his neck, and a warm, hard body pressed against his back.  

Someone gasps. Or perhaps everyone does. They lean forward, automatically reaching for Regulus, because most of these soldiers have known him and his family for years. They’ve been trained to protect him, to keep him safe. 

Even his father is staring at him in what can only be terror, eyes wide and lips parted, hands twitching with the need to grab him, push him away from who’s holding him captive. 

Regulus inhales shakily. Breathing is a bit difficult, with the chain digging into his neck, but he can manage. He’s staring back at Lucius, at his father, at every single man who’s surrounding him and watching him with anxious eyes. The horror he can see in their faces isn’t helping Regulus to keep calm.

The soldier standing closest to Lucius reaches for his weapon, the noise he makes being the first sound to break the sudden silence. 

“Don’t shoot!” Lucius snarls, taking a step forward and raising a stiff arm. However, the movement leads to James using his irons to choke Regulus further, and Lucius freezes up as soon as Regulus lets out a grunt. 

“Never expected such a posh little boy to be so keen on defending my honour,” James whispers into his ear, loosening his hold but just barely. “But I’m grateful.”

Regulus presses his lips into a thin line, a spark of irritation lighting up inside his belly. It’s not enough to erase his fear, but it helps to distract him a little. 

Of course the one time he finally decides to speak up and do some good, this happens.

“And you, Commodore,” James goes on, raising his voice and infusing it with cheer. “I knew you’d warm up to me.”

Lucius clenches his jaw, hands curling into fists at his sides, but he keeps still and doesn’t dare breathe a single word. 

“Now, if you’d be so kind, I’d love to have my effects back. Please.”

It takes a beat, men glancing at each other a bit unsurely, but when James urges Lucius again with a “Commodore!”, the warning clear in his tone, he finally moves. Lucius turns around and grabs James’ belongings quite aggressively, pointedly ignoring the way James huffs. 

Regulus doesn’t even get a moment to relax, because as he watches Lucius moving towards them, arms filled with James’ effects, a warm breath hits him on the side of the neck, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Do you have a name, darlin’?” James asks quietly, lips grazing the lobe of his ear with every word. 

A wave of heat rushes through Regulus, and he isn’t sure if he’s more angry or embarrassed at his body’s reaction. 

“Regulus,” he responds through gritted teeth. “Regulus Black.”

“Regulus,” James repeats in a drawl, and Regulus can feel his smile against his skin. He tries to tilt his head to the side, get some space, but there’s no use. The pirate won’t let him go anywhere until he gets what he wants. “Well, then. If you’d be so kind, Regulus.”

He can’t help but frown a little, attempting to look back and find some answers, when Lucius steps right in front of him. He’s giving him James’ belongings before he can even blink, and they’re all very lucky Regulus has such good reflexes. 

The moment all the weapons and the belt and the stupid hat are all in his arms, James pulls on the irons and forces him to turn around until they’re facing each other. He has both hands bound and around the back of Regulus’ neck, and they’re standing so close they’re basically breathing into each other’s mouths. The realisation makes Regulus’ heart stutter and his stomach twist uncomfortably, so he tries to move away. Unfortunately, there’s nowhere for him to go, and it only ends with James smirking smugly at him, before nodding pointedly at his things.

Regulus presses his lips into a thin line and narrows his eyes at the pirate, quite satisfied at the fact that they’re basically the same height and he can’t look down on him. Not like he needs to, considering the expression he’s sporting.

Oh, he absolutely hates this. He hates that he risked everything to defend a bloody pirate. He hates that he’s being threatened and held hostage and humiliated. He hates that this is only gonna make him look weaker than he already does. He hates that Sirius isn’t here. And more than anything, he hates James Potter.

Taking a deep breath, Regulus gets to work. He starts with the weapons, uncomfortable with how they feel in his hands, how heavy and how cold. He itches to get rid of them. 

“Make sure to be nice, yeah, darlin’?” James whispers the moment Regulus begins to fasten the belt holding the sword around his waist. 

Regulus wants nothing more than to curse him out, but he settles with wrapping the damn thing extra tight, eyes never leaving James’ and watching as he winces momentarily, before giving Regulus a lazy smile. 

“Careful,” James warns, but it’s teasing. Mocking. “You don’t wanna damage the goods.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes before he grabs the gun and what looks like a sash. He attaches the gun to the belt and then puts the sash over James’ shoulder, noticing that he can’t tie it properly on his current position. Biting the inside of his cheek but refusing to show anything on his face, he presses their chests together and his hands travel to James’ back. 

Regulus focuses on the task at hand, but it proves to be harder than expected, with the way James chooses to return the embrace to the best of his abilities. As if Regulus is doing this willingly, or something. 

James leans into him, until his cheek is touching Regulus’, nose digging into his curls and nuzzling there like they’re—like they’re actually—

Regulus finishes the knot alarmingly fast, his whole face burning, especially when he remembers his father is bearing witness to this whole scene. 

Fortunately, there’s only one thing left and it’s that ridiculous hat, so he puts it hastily on James’ head, more than ready to get this torture done and over with. But as soon as it sits on dark curls, Regulus notices it’s crooked, and he’s reaching out once again a second later, righting the damn thing until it’s good, until James looks every bit the pirate that he is. 

The smile he receives in return almost blinds him, and Regulus is averting his gaze even before James turns him back around. 

The disgust on his father’s face isn’t surprising, but it still stings. Although, not as much as the disappointment does. 

“Good job, love,” James murmurs, just for him, and Regulus makes an active effort to not visibly react. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Regulus cocks his head back just enough for their eyes to meet. “You’re despicable,” he spits, hands trembling with barely contained rage. 

“So much hatred coming from such a pretty mouth.” James clicks his tongue, but his grin widens. “I saved your life, you saved mine. Now we’re square, yeah?”

He opens his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue, when James lowers the irons around Regulus’ neck enough to grab his gun and then press the barrel of it against Regulus’ temple. 

His blood runs cold and his heart stutters in his chest. There’s a spark of something inside his gut, and then goosebumps break everywhere on his skin, heat rushing to every point of contact between him and James. 

Regulus knows he’s not going to shoot. And yet, a tiny, buried part of him sort of wants him to. 

“Gentlemen,” James exclaims, that fake cheer returning to his voice. “It’s been a pleasure, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to bid you all farewell. Try not to miss me too much, I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

“You better pray we won’t, pirate,” Lucius snarls, stepping forward at the same time James steps back, still holding onto Regulus.

“Is that a threat, Commodore?”

“It’s a promise.”

James chuckles, and Regulus can feel it rumble against his back. “Well, here’s to hoping you’ll be able to keep it.”

He takes another step back, dragging Regulus with him, but the barrel of the gun isn’t touching his head anymore, and he notices James loosening the irons slightly. He must be about to make his escape, and Regulus thinks he should feel relieved about being freed, but he’s too busy being furious at the fact that James is going to get away with this.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be seeing you again, darlin’,” James says into Regulus’ ear. 

“If you ever dare to go near me again, I’ll kill you myself,” Regulus replies lowly, resisting the urge to turn his head away from James’ filthy mouth.

The pirate hums, and then presses his lips into Regulus’ skin, right under his ear, and it makes him jump, a choked off noise slipping past his mouth. 

For a terrifying moment, he thinks James is kissing him, but the gesture stays as a simple contact. It’s probably just another one of his attempts to anger him, to make a fool out of him, and Regulus loathes that it’s working.

“Looking forward to it,” James mumbles into his throat, and Regulus has to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood to keep another sound from coming out.

And then, just like that, James is gone. Regulus is still recovering from his words, and the not-really kiss, when the chain disappears from around his neck, the body wrapped around him vanishing as if it had never been there in the first place. 

Lucius and the rest of his men rush after James, running past Regulus without giving him a second glance, but when he turns around, eyes desperately searching, he can’t see anything apart from a sea of uniformed soldiers. 

Regulus doesn’t stop thinking about what happened all day, not even when his father grabs him by the arm and hauls him home. Or when he screams at him for half an hour, and then sends him straight to bed without dinner. It all feels a bit like he’s in a dream, or a trance, and watching everything from outside. 

Nothing seems real anymore. Not since James spoke into his skin while pressing the barrel of his gun to Regulus’ skull.

He isn’t sure of how or when, but one thing is very clear: Regulus is getting revenge. He won’t rest until he sees that bloody pirate behind bars.

[mitchmotch]

i was commissioned by @achinga to draw vash and milly! they're so silly :)

[seaviewmirror]

Björn nahm einen weiteren Schluck Kaffee. „Großartig. Danke, Sascha.“ Ohne darüber nachzudenken, griff er im Umdrehen nach Saschas Schulter und drückte sie kurz. Sehr solide, sehr warm, nahm er wahr, und dachte, dass Breitner wirklich seine Sinne geschärft hatte auf eine Weise, die ihn immer wieder überraschte. „Wir sehen uns später.“

Sascha hob den Zeigefinger an die Stirn. Die silbernen Strähnen in seinem Haar glänzten im Sonnenlicht. „Bis dann, Chef."

[crescentfool]

somehow i never drew the big cat from persona 3??? so here is ryoji and the big cat. as a treat.

[catboythanatos]

happy valentines day ♡ i am finally ready to unveil my stobotnik playlist 🪨🥚✨️💫❤️‍🔥

i did this the old fashioned way and kept it concise and have curated a listening order for it to be played in, but ur welcome to shuffle it. just be warned that the last few songs are supposed to be the sad ones so theyre gonna sneak up on u if u do that

some of my thoughts on the song choices under the cut⬇️⬇️

idk why i wanted to type this in instagram story editor but i did so hopefully its legible.

also - link to the "that one edit" in question

anyway enjoy :D

[dykefever]

all at once - a (very late) christmas r/s fic.

ao3

Sirius almost says, the marble on the tip of his tongue, about how he wants him so much it’s a permanent ache; a broken rib in his chest. How he just wants Remus there, beside him. He doesn’t understand why Remus will sit next to him on his bed, year after year, and look at him the way he does — something helpless and honest but maybe just a trick of the light — only to pull away from Sirius for weeks at a time, citing studying as an excuse and leaving Sirius helplessly alone; dog left out in the cold, waiting. He keeps waiting. He pretends he isn’t.

[happi-tree]

⚔️👑 shield and scepter 👑⚔️

Howdy, y'all! So my wonderful mutual @raemeh did this really cool fanart of my royalty Swiftli au (the fic for which can be found here), and I had some little design ideas about them in my wips, so I thought I'd post the two of them here! Thank you so much to everyone who's enjoyed it <333

[itsjaywalkers]

nothing happens

jegulus | M | 3 parts of ?

James and Regulus meet when they're kids, and it doesn't take them long to become friends. Best friends, even. And it's fine, because they're young, and love is easy and simple, and it can't be mistaken for anything else.

Then they grow. And their friendship turns into something else entirely. But it should still be fine if nothing changes, right?

If nothing happens.