h, bitch, holy.

[kimjisoo-moved]

[hclyknot-blog]

bvbblin·:

you can never tell which way the tide may turn. elation washes over him in waves, firewhisky warm to the taste. if he’s never had the predicament of being tongue-tied, the spiked potion has made the chances of that happening ever drop to a definite zero. like clockwork: mind, mouth, manner—regardless of who was on the receiving end. 

so when a certain ex-girlfriend who he hasn’t talked to in a year sidles up to his side, dusty doesn’t feel an ounce of his usual wariness but rather pleasant, unyielding surprise. “is she actually not avoiding me for once?” nope, backtrack. “well somebody’s having a good time.”

her comment prompts a sheepish laugh. “sexy cowboy? might’ve been that if i’d listened to sunday about wearing it withou-” he falters then, because he’d been this close to diving into tmi territory. “uhhh…how does a knockoff woody sound instead?” tipping the brim of his hat, he grins wide.honest to god, she looks so happy it’s kind of ridiculous, but before his brain can linger on that detail, he’s onto the next.

a small gasp. “wait a minute…” dustin holds up his sleeve against her coat, which happens to be the same exact shade of blue. “look, we’re matching!” 

                                                                      ↺

     𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋. that is, happiness. that is, elation (pupils blown, heart pounding—love) before dustin kang. with dustin kang. perhaps a year ago, when regan nam still clung to trivial idealisms of being good. when she still had the right to call him and his heart, hers. though, none of that now. things are different now. the two are strangers now. distance purposefully put in by her hands, his heart broken at her hands, remnants of things regan claimed was still good in her—wrung dry and hung out to die, by her hands.

     it’s her fault. she knew that much. 

     yet she stands, chest filled to the brim with fabricated warmth. a familiar grin fixed on her features. to be this happy around him—well, she missed it. whether or not the slytherin would ever let the truth slip from her tongue. she missed it. him. “without?” she repeats, brow arched curiously. the slytherin tips forward slightly, fingers pressing into his chest lightly to mind her balance; a small amused giggle slipping forth past glossed lips. 

     “i can’t recall too much about muggle movies, but from what you’ve shown me before—i don’t think woody looks remotely close to this,” another laugh, patting his right chest pocket idly. “at the most, you’d need a sheriff star or badge or whatever.”

     still, the selfish monster wearing her skin eats it up. relishes in every bit of concocted euphoria that surfaces, amplified by the alcohol in her system, the boy standing before her. “though,” regan glances up at the ravenclaw fondly, tone teasing. “you did say knock off so... i guess it works.”

     her gaze turns to his outreached arm, taking in matching blues and the pale of his wrist, riverlike veins guiding upward past the flesh of his palm to calloused fingers. here, her touch impulsively follows, sliding her fingers into his, interlocked—as if it’s always belonged like so. “you’re right.” only then, regan dares to regard him, expression unreadable for the slightest while before she speaks again, slow in lifting her toes to reach. 

     “we do match.”

     then lips. then tongue. 

                                                                                                      fool.

[hclyknot-blog]

                                                                       ↺

     𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋. that has always been a given. regan nam, the storm of a woman who tore through anything and everything for what she wanted. merciless. even now, intoxicated and on some sort of high that’s kept her in high spirits throughout the night. she did as she wished.

           how else could you explain it now?            regan nam standing before dustin kang. disaster in the making.

     “hi.” the flush on her skin is parts alcohol and parts something else, almost gushing (almost regretting) as she reaches out, fingers pinching at flannel fabric. “i like your costume, dus’.” regan grins, the pretty curve on her lips considerably playful in the face of an ex-boyfriend she’s cared too much about. “let me guess, sexy cowboy?”

                                                                                             — for @bvbblin.

[hclyknot-blog]

jokyeols‌:

a stasis could be a perfect term to use in order to describe the way things seemed to roll with them ━with lies after lies on both sides being counted and let go under watermills and a string of sarcasm pulling at each other’s necks while the world would simply think she was too bold to keep on inching to talk to him and he was too much on the edge between dark and light anyone would rather stay eons away.

an interesting game for sure. so far, he hadn’t fallen out of boredom on that front.

“ how caring of you. i’d be lost without such amount of good heart. ” tight lipped, taking the toll of her light knowing what was going to happen next ━glancing at the book whose cover was clearly worn out by many reads, tracing ever so slightly the front’s embossed letters with a consequential eyeroll. “ regardless of where they come from, books have their stories, which are far more interesting than the majority of the bullet point in history of hogwarts. and let’s be real, wizard literature still acts like you’re a dumb five years old who needs moving drawings to help you understand what’s going on. and then they wonder why their desks are filled with idiots. ”

     it’s always been easy to get attention. to gather one’s interest and keep it under her tongue. to weasel under people’s skin and stay there. parasitic. regan nam is too good at this game. getting what she wants. leaving a mark. something about girls like her and how they’re afraid of being forgotten made it especially easy to wield (such fear, such doubts) into a weapon. to slither under one’s skin and sink her fangs into the softest of their heart.

     not that such a thing is being done here.

     but regan can’t deny the way the path leads. sooner or later. his demise. her sin. “i know, you’re welcome.” relatively bright, the laugh that takes in response to his spiel is parts amused and patronizing, gathering up the fabric of his trousers within her fingers to pinch and pull. “you muggles and your pride are so adorable,” she hums. “the fact that you think all there is to wizard literature is moving pictures is sad enough—do you base your knowledge on our literature only from newspapers, magazines, and the works?” the slytherin tuts. 

     “awfully uneducated of you, ikyeol...” regan drawls, smoothing her fingers over his trousers absently. the words that slip out after is more of a tease, more tactics to ease the ego in which she undoubtedly irritated. “you’re lucky you’re pretty.”

     her head turns to meet his gaze, lips curving.

     “that’s why you’re taking me to the chambers party, after all.”

[avmone]

                              ˟  you looked at me with 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲                                   and to be 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒇𝒖𝒍, i couldn’t look away                                                   ◞  open ∘

                                                    ☾

     ❛  wow, you’re like gorgeous and                you probably deserve the world and –   ❜   

an abrupt hiccup cuts off her words unceremoniously, fingers rising quickly to press into her lips as if that could shut the damned involuntary annoyance up. the hands that had been latched onto the other also falls to her side, holding onto her other hand – trying to keep the hiccups from overtaking her infectious need to speak her mind, only truths here, dear. and when they do cease, for the time being, she’s back ten-fold with the compliments, all genuine – surprisingly.

               ❛  hell, do you ever get                         tired of being so good looking?   ❜   

[hclyknot-blog]

                                                                        ↺

     𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. rightfully so, there is nothing surprising about the gluttonous creature regan is. how her hollow chest is naught but a pit of want. how nothing in the world is ever enough. how she, like a starved child, continues to take, take, take. as long as someone will give. and regan being regan, will always find someone to give. 

          exhibit a. the woman in blue.

     a smile curves her features at the other’s words, an appreciative gaze sweeping over her costume, the intricate detail to the painting, the soft of curves it accentuates. “thank you.” the slytherin croons, one hand courting a goblet of giggle-water while the other coyly slides over the expanse of her hip. 

     “it’s not really something to get tired over if it means i get compliments from pretty girls like you.” regan laughs, taking another sip of the infectious giggle-water. well aware of the fabricated elation it gives her. “but i really like your costume, did you paint it yourself?”

[pinkjukebox]

Visit Original Link

[hclyknot-blog]

jokyeols‌:

she was a storm, that was a fact ━she would do whatever she wanted and manage to come out of anything unscathed while the rest of the world would ball down in ruin, he’s seen that. he too, though, wasn’t one to be taken lightly, and she knew that ━perhaps this equal respect on each other’s ablities was what made everything so tolerable. he would huff ever so slightly, she would make a small remark and here he was, with his lips creeping half a smile, head tilting to the left.

“ does it really matter? you’d do whatever you want regardless. ” his own a comment with a tinge of sarcasm and another of amusement that would blend almost seamlessly ━his own a figure moving slightly to the side, book kept to the page with one hand. he didn’t need to look if she was going to move or not, he didn’t need that. “ so, to be here it means there’s nothing going out within the walls of borewarts, huh? ”

     the relationship is that there’s no relationship. that regan nam does as she wished when she wants and jo ikyeol simply doesn’t stop her. whether it was out of pure interest or something else—she doesn’t care to ask. “don’t put it like that.” she tuts, parts coy in the way she moves forward—true to her words—settling on the slytherin’s thighs with her legs on either side.

     “i care about what you want.” lie. “and i like to bless my time with your lovely presence.” also lie. her fingers thumb the pages of his book absently, plucking it out of his grasp to peer over spilled ink, delicately plucked brow arched. “come on, demian?” regan laughs, “you’d really let your youth rot away while you read up on his? it’s not even the slightest interesting in terms of coming of age stories.” she sighs, shifting to rest her back against his chest, a too comfortable position for people who aren’t particularly anything to each other.

     “but i guess, muggle literature only goes that far.”

[gjikyeol-blog]

it’s a figure so easy to spot, his own ━a small figure in black near an almost ashen white rock, one of the many seen around the lake’s shoreline, his own a frame cut by the light of a sun that was going to set, resting nearby the frush of water moving ever so slightly and the pages of a book he looked so immersed devouring line after line, paragraph after paragraph… until something seemed just so off to his senses, his lips in a thin line and frown barely readable behind the thick bangs over his forehead, hands stopping mid-page. annoyance, all there, all ready to make itself known yet again.  “ you are cutting off the light. ”

open!

[hclyknot-blog]

     she is—a woman on a mission. not really. but regan figures there’s only so much she can do on such a clear blue sky day. when the sky is high and regan is—well—regan is bored. that said, there wasn’t anything in particular that stopped her from calling up a friend. a good fuck. a whatever. although regan would claim to be slightly less interested this time around — at least not for now. and lo’ and behold, the ever elusive mad dog—sat perched on a white rock, as if served on a platter for regan’s insatiable needs to be—well, properly entertained. 

     “aw.” her mouth forms the pout easily, “so sorry—” 

     she’s not.  

     “are you going to make room for me? or should i sit in your lap, ikyeol?”

      korean names remain foreign on her tongue, but as is regan’s presence around the slytherin—she’s sure—still, it isn’t as if it’s the first time she’s stormed in and taken what she wanted. 

[bikinipowerbottoms]

[dauntfvl]

     *   ‘ IT’S  COMPLICATED ’  seems a valid enough byline for the testimony of ethan kudou and regan nam ,  vague and engulfed by the promise of a lifelong tale should one take the leap and ask about their history .   some might say it tiptoes the line of sick and twisted , those privy to its unfortunate mess seek ignorance , for with one comes the other ,  like a shadow with its host  ━  for ethan , his shadow remains evermore regan .   which is why when his dorm door creaks opens ,  his eyes glaze over at the sight of a walking reminder of all that is weak and unholy inside his chest ,  brows scrunching together in question .   not for long ,  however ,  as his signature grin grows against his lips ,  a hint of curiosity in his expression .   ❛  isn’t this a pleasant surprise ?  ❜   ( @hclyknot  )

[hclyknot-blog]

                                                                        ↺

     𝐈𝐓   𝐈𝐒   𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃. regan does not claim to be believing of that sort of thing—does not claim to be the type to allow “fate” to rule her life. but regan nam and ethan kudou is undeniable. set in stone from the day they met eyes through their bedroom windows. tied, laughably so, to each other (and their demons, and their pain, and their guilt) — bound, crudely twisted around their necks, unable to go too far away from each other. and their “love”, however much it is spat, and torn, and twisted, and contorted, exists only so to mock them. rather, regan. our bastard in black—bravely denouncing love and all its uselessness yet contradictorily so at the mercy of one ethan kudou and his hands around her neck.

    pathetic.     even more so when his arms do not envelop her in the seasons that come.

    but she is uncaring otherwise—of who he dates, what deceptively convincing bits of his heart and soul he places into the hands of strangers, which person in particular has stolen attention she’s spurred from him in the first place (reminder, you are the one that started this game, regan)—ethan’s heart remains, at the end of the day, with her.

   ethan remains, at the end of the day, a mere walk away.

    which brings her here. our lovely bastard, clad in silk and the slightest bit of a shiver, feet bare as she stands before her childhood friend, eyes surveying his room, his bed, him—alone, just as she’s preferred. “isn’t it?” her tone is dismissive, guised with humor. a coquettish grin crosses her face and the slytherin doesn’t hesitate to slip over, door shutting behind them, her knees press into the soft of his bed before she even realizes. 

     “i figure you’d like some company,” she reaches out, slapping his thigh casually in gesture to make room while she climbs on. “considering you and your “girlfriend” haven’t been speaking.” her grin widens ever so slightly, more playful than not. “or am i not welcome, e?”  

[barbienaticn-blog]

          the scent of citrus and sugar wafts throughout the slytherin common room. the throbbing pain in her head grows when a group of younger students walk in, letting out shrill laughs that would put her shrieks to shame. her head turns and she shoots them a glare, letting out a huff when they quieten and scurry into their rooms. now, it’s her turn to make some noise.

          juliet lounges on the couch right by where her dearest friend sits, a bowl of fruit and a large bottle of water placed on the coffee table in front of them. in hopes to relieve her hangover, she went the extra mile and trudged all the way to the kitchens to get the fresh fruit. 

          god forbid fucking lemon water is what makes her personality do a 180°.

          she screws the lid back on and gives it a little shake before taking a sip, eyeing her friend who seems to be more invested in some magazine than her. that needs to change.

          “ god, i hope this fruit detox water shit works this time. maybe i should just put in five lemons and hope for the best. ”

@hclyknot !!

[hclyknot-blog]

                                                                         ↺

      𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃. sundays are spent lazily. spent lounging in the common room in black silk shorts and a matching top (note: showing too much skin, but unbothered to care) in recuperation from last night’s party. not that there was any irreparable damage, so to say, as drunk as regan got—she knew well enough to prepare for the morning with a hangover potion swiped off the desk of one of her roommates. 

     juliet, however, did not.     boo on her. 

    still, tied to playing the dutiful role of a good friend, regan finds herself situated comfortably beside her fellow slytherin, flipping through witch weekly without so much of an interest here or there. she doesn’t speak till juliet does, prompting the slightest of eye-rolls and a small laugh in response. really, the audacity.

     “yeah, like we’re going to pretend shoving five lemons and some water into your gut will negate the eight vodka cranberries you knocked back last night.”

    "can you just wrap it up here so we can go get brunch? i'm starving."

[hclyknot-blog]

i rlly passed out most of the day instead of plotting/replies o fcuk . me :( lmk if u wanna plot for the event friends!! for regan or for syd’s dumbass!!!

[rpmememaker]

Send “✆” for a MORNING text. Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT. Send “☎” for a RUSHED text. Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text. Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text. Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text. Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text. Send “#” for a RANDOM text. Send “@” for a SCARED text. Send “&” for a LOVING text. Send “%” for a CURIOUS text. Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text. Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text. Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.

[hclyknot-blog]

hey guys!!! it’s me day back with a vengeance!! this is regan, my pureblood elitist (without having much reason to be tbh) baby and she’s going to be a fireball to handle w so PLS.... handle with care,, ANYWAY... some tldr below the cut and here are the links to her PROFILE / BIO / PLOTS !! let me know if any interests you or if you’d like to plot!! thank you 💖

so regan nam -- basically the love child of two adults in love, but unfortunately are not married to each other

grew up watching the fucked up rls that her parents is “love” but her dad leaves all the time for the sake of money to go back to his “real family” lol

really sort of fills her head with a whole lot of bullshit about love and now she doesn’t believe in it (which causes a lot of problems later she will fuck everyone up and then herself in a relationship)

moved out when she was 17/18 because her mom went crawling back to her dad after everything and it was just super disgusting to her

by then she’s already KIND OF a sugar baby so it didn’t matter that she cut herself off from her dad’s bank acc

used to be on the quidditch team as a chaser up until her 7th yr when she quit to fkn Not thanks

IN GENERAL she comes off as sociable, almost sweet, nice enough to strangers but anyone who’s remotely close knows she’s got a baaaad temper

otherwise a fun person to be around, witty, charming, will alw offer fashion advice (asked for or not) and knows every good camera angle 

an extremely power hungry individual, the goal here is to make it big and shit on her dad’s mf legacy (so she can and will step over you to get what she wants)

which means she often plays up whatever image she needs to play up with people who matter (dignified pureblood families, teachers etc)

extremely judgmental person and depending on who you are—has no problem sharing her opinion

doesn’t like to lose and doesn’t have much regard for other people so long as she’s enjoying herself

half the time she’s not even enjoying herself but that’s life!!

bottom line, she knows she’s terrible and fucked up but she’s come to accept it and that my friends is the secret to having good hair, yw