#i asked. it's alright. i know she's right anyway.

[prael]

Phonecalls

Kinktember Day 24: Vicarphilia

IVE Gaeul x male or female reader smut

words: 3,757 Kinktember Masterlist

Happy Gaeul day!

Gaeul is the personification of the phrase ‘Don't judge a book by its cover.’

A big personality inside a small stature, Gaeul's appearance belies her true self. She's enigmatic, she's witty, she's charismatic, she's funny, and most importantly, she's honest. Honest, almost, to a fault.

She's your best friend, and she has always had your back. When you were down, she would always pull you back up. When you were lost, she would always find you. Gaeul has always been there for you no matter what, and you always knew you could rely on her. You trust Gaeul implicitly, and she does you.

There's this other side to Gaeul too, see, she looks ever so innocent. The way her voice always carries with excitement, it's always so full of life and wonder. Innocence is always an assumption people have of Gaeul. It's completely, and utterly incorrect, but people tend to assume it nonetheless.

Gaeul called you up as she usually does, and yes, you were busy, but not even an hour later you found yourself at a cafe sitting across from her. It was important, or so she said.

"Look at this message. He definitely wants to bone me, right?" Just like that, you had your regular reminder that all those assumptions about Gaeul are wrong.

"I don't know, he just said he wants to get drinks," you answered, albeit in the least convincing tone in your arsenal. Of course, he wanted to bone her.

"Exactly, drinking leads to being drunk and being drunk leads to boning."

"I've gotten drunk around you loads of times and we never ended up in bed together."

Gaeul squinted at you disapprovingly. "Well, we almost—"

"We don't talk about that, remember. Anyway, what's the problem, isn't this basically your dream Friday night? Boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk, boy takes girl home, boy and girl fuck until they fall asleep," you told her, tilting your iced coffee in her direction as a gesture of encouragement.

"So you do think he's gonna bone me?" Gaeul asked, leaning back on her seat as she chewed on her bottom lip, no longer sure what to think of this text.

"Okay, maybe, but what's the problem?"

"He seems a bit clingy. He's all 'It would be cool if we could get dinner before' or 'I'd love it if we could go watch that new film that's out'," she groaned. "What am I, his girlfriend?"

Some psychiatrists would probably diagnose this as something born out of attachment issues or maybe some insecurity. Whatever, why bother with the analysis? She just hates relationships. 

She's young and having fun—a lot of fun. Sex, and plenty of it. Men and women in equal supply. Either way, relationships aren't on her agenda.

That's not what this story is, anyway. This story is not about Gaeul, not really. Her raunchy nights with strangers are important, but for you, it's more about the morning after.

"So cut it off with him, then. Give him some fake excuse and ghost him before you have another person falling for you."

She slammed her head onto the wooden table of the cafe. "Easier said than done. I mean he's funny. And he's pretty cute." She peered at you, an evil grin now curling her lips, "And I still want to bang him."

"Gaeul, we both know how this ends, you're going to see him tonight and you're ending the night on your back."

"Counter argument: maybe I'm on top."

"Alright, sure, but why am I here? You're only going to call me right after anyway."

"Well..." Gaeul said, leaning closer. "He has this friend and—"

"No, I'm good," you told her and she reeled back from your instant rejection, her eyes wide as if you'd shot her dead.

"Ugh, you're no fun." She shrugged, unfazed, as her hands flew across her phone's screen.

"You know where I get my fun."

"I'll call you after, don't worry," Gaeul said with a slight curve in the corner of her mouth, and that was the promise you held her to.

The promise she was right now upholding. Your phone is ringing with a call from Gaeul and it's the perfect way to start your morning. You smile, content that your best friend has kept to her promise.

"So? How'd it go, was he as big as you hoped?" You ask as you roll over onto your side and prop yourself on one elbow, the smooth fabric of your silken sheets beneath you.

"Big enough," she says followed by a satisfied hum, and you can just imagine that Gaeul must have the kind of stupid, satisfied smile that reaches her ears right now, "The things I let people do to me."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at that last part. "Come on, Gaeul, are you going to keep talking vague? The suspense is killing me." Your lips spread into a teasing grin that you're pretty sure Gaeul can hear through the call. You do very much appreciate her elaborate storytelling.

"Alright fine," she sighs, and the satisfaction is still there, if the subtle laugh she gives is any indication. "The drinks were good and went down easy. There was the small talk and the questions. So, I told him, he could ask any question as long as I got to ask any question I wanted afterwards. We were curious enough about each other and eager enough. We agreed.

"He started with these boring ones, 'What made you dye your hair black', 'Do you prefer salty or sweet foods', and all that other shit. But then I asked him a question that made his eyes pop."

"What was it?" You ask. Gaeul pauses, but the anticipation is a welcome feeling. Her playful silence lets the anticipation rise in you.

"I asked him, 'My face or my ass'?" You both laugh. That was so typical of Gaeul. Typical, but ever so effective.

"And what did he pick?"

"My face, though I don't think he understood I was asking him where he would prefer to cum. His face was so innocent when he said it. I wanted to give him a pat on the head for such a good answer," she explains in an exaggerated cutesy voice.

"He was all the usual, 'Oh you're so pretty' and 'Oh you're so adorable'. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm not saying he wasn't right because I do look really pretty," Gaeul quipped, to which you smiled, and she continued, "It went on for a while, he started asking some... hotter things. About how and when I touch myself."

"Usual guy stuff, sure," you joke, and you take delight in how she snorts a little giggle.

"Sure, well, next came his inevitable, 'Want to head back to mine?' Of course, I said 'Yes'. Then he said he would call us a cab, which, thank god, because it's much harder to do hand stuff on a bus compared to a cab."

"But not impossible," you interjected, remembering how she once described being felt up by someone in a packed train car. The way she grinned as she recounted it made her quite the bad girl.

"Anyway, we get in the cab and he just can't keep his hands off me. All over my tits and shit," she lets out a dark chuckle before her voice falls deeper, lower, sensual, and with the emphasis of a dangerous edge, "Don't know if the driver appreciated it but I sure as fuck did."

"Tell me more," you say, putting Gaeul on loudspeaker and placing the phone on the pillow by your head. You lay flat on your back and stretch your muscles. The joints of your toes curl into the sheets and push them down into the mattress as you arc your spine, and the deep inhale you take through your open mouth is soon followed by a relaxed exhale.

"He just slipped his hand up my shirt while she kissed my neck," Gaeul continues, bringing the memory to life with her words. She recounts in precise and deliberate detail how her nipples went hard the instant she was touched, the electricity sparking inside of her as he pinched at them with thumb and forefinger.

There's a rustling from the other side of the call before she continues her story, "We get in his place, he gets the door locked behind him, and the first thing I feel is his hot breath against my ear. It was warm and it tickled just a little bit. Then he whispered in a low voice that I can tell he thought was seductive."

"What did he say?" You ask, eagerly.

"'Fuck, I've never been this horny with someone so quick before'," Gaeul says and pauses. You both share a small laugh before she goes on, "Honestly, I did think it was kinda sexy at the moment, you know? Then he pulls off my shirt. Doesn't even unbutton it, just over my head with all the buttons. Guess the horniness was getting to him."

"Can't blame him." you run your hand up your own torso, fingertips barely brushing over the smooth, warm skin.

"And fuck, I was horny too. I was hungry. I turned and pinned him to his door, you should have seen the shock on his face, and I planted a kiss right on his lips. He wasn't that great. Wasn't really my type of kisser, actually. Too stiff, his lips were too dry, but still a kiss. I guess," Gaeul gives every little detail about him; from how his height stood a whole head taller than her, to how his eyes shone in the dark with a hint of anticipation. "I wasn't there for the kissing, so it was fine, and that's when his hands grabbed my ass. He was so rough, you should have heard the smack his palm made as it landed."

You hum in approval and bring a hand between your legs. In your mind's eye, you see her ass being spanked and groped, and you feel yourself growing more aroused. "Go on."

"Rough hands," Gaeul breathes into the phone. "I fucking love it."

"Yeah..." You sigh grab hold of your thighs and stretch out the tension.

"I could feel it, how hard he was, poking through his trousers and into my stomach."

"You loved feeling how hard you got him, didn't you?"

"Fuck yeah," her voice, dripping in lust and sex, was deep and steady like it always was when she gets like this. "So I dropped to my knees, practically ripped open his belt buckle and pulled down his zipper. And those pants fell to his ankles just like that, and then came the thing I was actually there for."

"Let's hear it," you urged.

"Like I said, good size, that's for sure, I've seen way worse. No way near the biggest dick that I've taken though. Anyway, I start stroking him with one hand," Gaeul lets out a gasp. You're not quite sure if it's for the benefit of her storytelling, but her sounds have always driven you crazy. "And then with my other, I've got his balls cupped and he's fucking loving it.

"I could tell, his cock was getting so big and so hot. It throbbed so much in my hands, so much so I could feel the blood pumping through him. And my hands were moving faster, my lips, teasing his tip, kissing, nibbling, even licking. I loved every fucking second because his dick tasted so good. After all, I could feel how worked up he was. So, I took him whole, you should have heard him moan, it was the cutest groan,"

Gaeul then breathes out heavily into the microphone, and her breath hitches in her throat and comes out short and sharp. You close your eyes and try and imagine the scene, and Gaeul must be reliving it too as you listen to her soft, sharp, wet breathing over the line. You tease yourself and plead with her, "Don't stop."

"And I'm looking up at him, through my lashes, and his eyes are almost pleading like he was trying so hard to hold his cum. Like he's trying to impress me, prove to me how much stamina he has. He's letting little moans and grunts out from his cute little lips, he's gripping the door handle so tight his fingers were white, and his knees are trembling. He's about to cum in my mouth, and my pussy is aching for him," she continues and lets her sentence trail off into a whining moan as she imagines his dick twitching inside her mouth.

"So quickly?" You ask, pushing your underwear down to your knees.

"I'm just that good, babe. The second my mouth met the shaft of his cock he was practically ready to burst. My tongue was dancing over the head, and I could taste the precum," Gaeul recalls. Her voice sizzles in your ears, and it is more like a deep purr, and it sends thrills down your body. A soft exhale escapes your mouth, and you're imagining her tongue caressing a hard dick. "And I'm only sucking harder now, stroking him faster. My left hand gripping onto him tight and tugging away. My right cradling those balls of his."

"All to make him cum," you utter in an aroused voice that you tried to hide but couldn't.

"Shit babe, it worked. I didn't even have time to prepare for him," she recounts. "He bucks his hips into my mouth. Barely has a chance to grab my head, he just blows so soon. All his cum was hot, and he was flooding my mouth."

"Shit..." You moan softly as you visualise a young man bucking his hips and releasing into Gaeul's mouth.

"Did I just go over to his to swallow his cum?" She asks and gives a laugh.

"I hope not."

"You wanna know what's funny?"

"Tell me," you plead to her.

"He came so quick that he went bright red, embarrassed, stuttering like a schoolboy that got caught smoking by the principal. All the courage he built up earlier in the taxi ride was completely gone. I couldn't help but laugh, mouth full of his cum, laughing at him. But I'm not going to lie. As he deflated so fast after he blew, all that bravado disappeared."

You let out a soft, something, barely a laugh, hesitating to touch as Gaeul grinds the story to a halt.

"Not funny?" she asks.

"Just, wish you'd continue, kinda in the middle of something here."

"Sorry, okay, where was I," Gaeul trails her words. "So I swallowed every drop, wiped at my chin where I've spilt a little and the guy still looks like he's going to die. I wanted him to suffer in the embarrassment a little, I wasn't going to tell him 'It's okay', so I got up and pulled him across his apartment. The guy nearly fell over his trousers since they were still on his ankles until he kicked them off.

"So the guy is a bit of a clean freak, by the way, the apartment was spotless. Somehow, I'm leading him to his own bed, don't know where the fuck I'm going but I find it and push him onto it. At this point, the guy's half-naked, sprawled, with his hand over his dick."

"All shy after your pretty lips have gotten him off, huh?"

"Right." Gaeul laughs, "So I stand at the edge of his bed, kick off my sneakers then pull down my jeans and drop them beside him. Then, he's staring at me and I ask him, 'Like the view?'"

"Stupid question, you're smoking," you interject with a smirk on your lips.

"The guy says, and I quote, 'Holy cow.' Who the fuck says 'holy cow'? Holy cow, babe, just holy cow," Gaeul starts laughing something manic, a cackle which is matched with a soft sigh, "Then, I just kinda laughed, like really, really laughed. It's all absurd, you get what I mean?"

"Oh god no he didn't?" You asked though the amusement was already creeping through.

"Right? What an idiot. Well, he was turning redder and redder as I was dying of laughter. It's about this time I realised I was so horny I had seduced pretty much the biggest loser in the city. Anyway, I had to shut him up, so I climbed onto the bed, and then onto his face. Dropped myself onto his stupid mouth. And then..."

"Then?" you prod her on.

"His lips and his tongue..." She makes a small moan, pleased, deep and sexy, and the sound is so hot. "Hungry boy. He starts lapping at my pussy like he was starved. He's all groaning and humming, and the vibration. That feels fucking great."

"Oh fuck..." You let a tiny sigh, one that you meant to keep to yourself, escape your lips. Gaeul keeps talking and in your mind, you're there with her—her voice fills your mind and draws an image. She tells you how she fucks his mouth, your imagination takes over.

"His tongue dances on me, licking over my lips, my clit, his lips were smacking and sucking on my most sensitive parts. He was so... energetic," Gaeul tells you. Your eyes closed, you can only imagine, in full detail, every stroke and flicker of his tongue as she described it. "Worshiping my pussy like it's the best thing in the world. So when his hands are grabbing hold of my ass and bringing my cunt to him even harder... Shit," Gaeul breaks from the story and swears.

You can't hold back anymore, touching yourself to the thought.

"He wanted this so bad. His hands were clamping hard onto me. His mouth sucking on me like a fucking vacuum. His tongue was all over the place. Everywhere it touches is like a jolt of electricity going through me. It's sending such great signals up my spine, right to my brain." Gaeul lets out a full, deep moan. One that is as tantalising as her words. It's followed by the sound of rustling. "I start just grinding down into his stupid fucking face."

You'd love nothing else in the world right now than to have Gaeul ride your face. "I can't get over how fucking delicious you would look like," you tease, "With that dumb guy, pinned under you,"

"I was moaning like crazy. If the neighbours were asleep, well, not anymore," Gaeul describes.

"Fuck," you respond as you find rhythm. You lose track of everything else, picturing Gaeul riding his stupid face until she cums.

Gaeul moans again, louder now, and with a husky, raspiness to her tone that you have memorised.

"There is no shame left in me, my hips moving into him with a need, a need for release," Gaeul chokes, then resumes with a pace of her own, "I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper into my flesh, and he was rocking my cunt even harder into his hungry mouth. His tongue, working so good. So, good...

"Just remembering how it felt... I'm gonna..." Gaeul moans again, throaty and harsh, and you picture it all in your head. She is sitting up in bed, legs wide apart, and fingers buried deep inside of her pussy. Moaning into her phone, moaning to you.

It's an amazing fucking image.

"I can feel my entire body starting to go warm, my thighs clamping onto the poor guy's skull. Oh my fucking god, his tongue, I love it, his tongue," Gaeul makes a long, low and whimpering moan, like the air was squeezed out of her lungs. "It feels like I've lost myself in time, completely. I'm going faster, my hips rolling into him faster and faster, desperate for relief. Then all of a sudden, it's all hitting at once, the spark just lights and I am exploding like a supernova, my core just bursting, and my pussy flooding his fucking stupid mouth."

You're chasing her high. "Shit," you find yourself whispering, softly at first and getting louder as you feel yourself nearing that beautiful feeling of sweet relief.

"I'm cumming so hard, his tongue is still going, still drawing out every last bit of my climax as he keeps feeding on me. The sheer fucking madness of the sensation... fuck, imagine that."

"Yeah..." You groan. "I am."

"You're so filthy," her words drip of sultry sex and that tease in her voice sends a tremor down to the base of your spine, setting your insides ablaze as the blood in your veins rises, the throbbing inside you reaching an incomparable peak. "Are you getting off to my story? I fucking dare you."

You close your eyes and breathe in the thought of her. Every inch of her lustful body, "I am."

"Fucking perv," she growls, her breathing sharp and shaky, erratic. A sound that resonates within your bones, and shakes you to the core. "Bet you want your lips wrapped around my clit. Let you suck the sweet nectar from my tight, hot pussy," she breathes through her teeth in a hissing sound as she falls over that edge. You can feel her shiver and quake. You hear every little shuddering whimper, every moan that escapes her soft, pretty little lips, and they ignite every sense in your body as if you can feel the electricity coursing through every nerve in her body, just as it is inside you.

You cum for her. You always cum for her, just like this. Your toes curl and your back arches. You twist, writhing under the feeling, your skin blazing as sweat rolls over it, your whole world coming to a beautiful standstill. You can't help but cry out her name in your bed.

"Nothing else makes me cum like this," you mumble, breathless and ragged as you finish, then add "You slut."

"How does it make you feel, hearing my dirty sex stories first thing in the morning?" Gaeul purrs. There is a sinister satisfaction in her tone, and that coy smile curling the corner of her mouth is definitely there in her voice. You can imagine it clear as day because it has been etched into your brain, that stupid, irresistible grin of hers.

"More," you beg, the aftermath of your orgasm, leaving the inside of your body searing hot, a sensation that you want desperately more of.

"Not now. Later," she sneers, knowing how it kills you inside.

[luimagines]

Ok hear me out I just thought of something.

We’re all familiar with the swan princess, right? If not, look it up it’s awesome. I love any and all iterations of that story.

ANYWAY!!!!!!! We all like a little romance in the fandom right? So lemme explain this thought I just had… a swan princess-ish type of LU story?

Basically, what if the Chain find a bird (you can pick any bird you want but I recommend a crow.) being injured by a small group of monsters. The Chain save the crow and heal its wounds before going about their business.

The crow then starts to follow them. It’s a little awkward at first but the crow eventually becomes like another member of their group like Epona and Wolfie (if this is pre Wolfie reveal. I’m not picky so anyone can say yes or no on that.) the crow helps them scout and navigate new areas, warns them of threats in the distance, and even brings them trinkets from time to time.

Anyway, one day after the Chain settle down for the evening they noticed the crow is on edge like its nervous… the Chain are wary because normally that means danger is around. But what actually happens boggles their minds. Once the sun has completely set and darkness falls upon the land… the crow turns into a girl (or whatever gender you want. I’m personally gonna go with a girl) who immediately is hiding in the bushes and asking to borrow a cloak. (Not everyone has magical clothes when they transform lol)

Turns out, the crow is actually a girl who was cursed! An evil warlock cursed her to forever be a crow except on the nights of a perfectly crescent, half, and full moon. When she can return to her human (or Hylian. Take your pick.) form. Basically, the warlock loved her beauty (or handsomeness.) and asked her hand in marriage three times. On the nights of a perfectly crescent, half, and full moon. She refused all three times. As revenge, he cursed her to take the form of a crow, a bird which was unanimously hated for being associated with evil. As far as she’s aware, she has to accept to warlock’s ‘love’ and marry him for the curse to break.

When questioned on her reasons for sticking around and helping them out, she simply told them that they saved her life. Anyone else would have left her to die… or finished the job themselves. She was grateful and wanted to repay the favor. Of course, she also wanted to see if the journey they were on could help her find another way to break her curse, but that was just a bonus. She really did want to repay the favor of helping her. She’s been through so much as a crow… like I said, they’re associated with evil so people aren’t the kindest towards them.

Obviously there’s another way to break the curse, but only the warlock knows that. I haven’t EXACTLY thought of the details, because I don’t wanna copy Swan Princess too much… but finding true love is the basics.

Alright lovelies, that’s as far as the idea has run. Plz feel free to take this idea and run with it! Pick your favorite boy and let your imagination run wild! Or commission our wonderful Pinky here (yes I’m advertising for you. Accept it!) to continue this little idea for you.

As for you, Pinky, plz give feedback! Love your content so much! Have a great day!

You know, I've actually never seen or heard the story of the Swan Princess. So if I do get commissioned for it, I guess I have some research to do. XD

I thought it was going to go the route of Kiri from CR Campaign 2, but I was delightfully surprised by the change! OR! Maybe I can twist them both together to avoid ripping off the Swan Princess as a whole.

I think this is a stellar idea. I like it! So cute! <3

Thank you for sending this in!

[eisforeidolon]

Question: So the first time I watched the show, I was mistaken and thought Jensen was really short.

Jared: Mistaken about what? {Jensen does an affected flat stare while Jared comically triple-takes at him]

Question: I know, I'm sorry Jensen. But I finally, after a couple seasons, I was like, oh, how tall is he and then I realized Jared's just really tall?

Jensen: Oddly, oddly tall. Oddly tall, we like to call it. Yeah, and then I go do another show where I played an older brother and it's to Justin Hartley who is, like 6'4" and I'm like, well, this is ridiculous. And now, now? I'm on a new show and - one of the actors I'm working with, who is like kinda my partner, so to speak, is, he's 6'6". Like, 265 rugby player, and I look, I look tiny next to him. I look like a little baby boy. And I'm getting sick of it.

[Jared then retells the story of his friend who was asked on a plane if she knew the short one or the one from 7th Heaven of the guys on Supernatural] But yes, Jensen is not short. Anyways, carry on.

Question: So the point of the question was, is there something you often see about yourself online that's either, like, just not correct or something about you that you wish more people knew about?

Jared: That became a really sweet, thoughtful question all of a sudden. Um, that's a good question. Nothing appearance-wise.

Jensen: I'm not that nice.

Jared: Yeah, we're not that nice.

Jensen: I'm not that nice. Okay, alright, that's not true. Dammit!

Audience member: You're not a good liar.

Jensen: I am not, ask my wife. I am not a good liar. That's one thing, I'm not a good liar.

Jared: That's right, yeah, yeah.

Jensen: Just 'cause I have an acting career does not make me a good liar in real life.

Jared: Right.

Jensen: You'd think I would be better. I am not.

Jared: The funny thing is, is that very rarely have I ever lied on camera. I've told, just, somebody else's truth. There are times when Sam lied, or there are times when Cordell Walker lied, or Dean - you know there are times when they lie on camera, but the majority of the time, they're telling the truth. And, you know, whatever you see for 30 seconds on camera, I've read for 30 hours to prepare how to tell that person's truth in that scene. Not 30 hours, but certainly hours and hours. Um, yeah, I don't think I'm a good liar.

Jensen: I know I'm not, 'cause I'm like, you know - she - Danneel just sees right through it. She's like, did you, did you do the thing I asked you to do? I'm like ... uh-huh!

Jared: Did I! That's a hell of a question!

Jensen: Uh-huh, yeah, I took care of that. Yeah? What was it? The thing. I did the thing, I got the, we're - it's fine, it's done. She's like, you have no idea what I'm talking about. Yes I do, I do. It was the -

Jared: It's off the list.

Jensen: It's fine, just check, you don't even have to worry about it. You don't have to - she's like, I already did it. And I'm like [dramatically throws his head back]. She's like, you're awful at that.

Jared: No, I was just saying it was done! I went to go do it and I noticed it was done, so I thought I must have done it!

Jensen: There's like this video, this guy? He's like, if you put - it's like, have you seen, it's like it's magic! If I put my laundry in this thing, the next day it's clean and in my closet. It's this magical thing. And she's like, yeah? Is that right? Tell me about it. I feel like that sometimes.

[f4iry-bell]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 𝟏

pairing: popula!jameson hawthorne x nerd/goodgirl!reader

summary: who would have guessed taking an unwanted picture of her could lead to that tense moment? more than that, who would have thought it would get his attention to make a deal? and guys like him drain a person inside out when are interested in you.

warning: jamie being a slight jerk, very little. little over the top reader(?)

series taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @lyra-kane @bewitchingkisses @zenikswaffleshop @off-to-the-r4ces @jamcarven (lmk if you want to be added!)

a/n: IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS WHOLE THING, YAY. a lot of jerk jamie in this fuc guys. sorry;(

word count: 1.5k

masterlist | series master list

“Did you just take a picture of me?” The tone and how sharp it was so surprising to the two boys to her side, one with the camera, and one with a stupid smile.

“Maybe.” The boy who was holding the camera didn't take her frowned brows, and dagger throwing eyes at him seriously. No one really takes her seriously, most of the time she is just invisible but definitely not today.

“Delete it.” She demanded, taking a step closer.

“Aw, don't want others to see your pretty face?” The boy holding the camera teased her, and then turned to his green eyes friend with a stupid smirk.

“I said, delete it.” she demanded again, this time more serious and firm than before.

“Or what?”

“I'll sue you. I'll take you to court, but before that I would like to formally inform the student body for violating my privacy, and I'm pretty sure you'd be dealt with by the faculty.” She didn't blink once, she adjusted her glasses after ending her threat.

“Woah, now let's not go there, princess” the green-eyed boy took a step forward with his hands in front in defense. “We don't want trouble.”

“She's bluffing.” The idiot with the camera said.

“She's not.” The other guy said without taking his gaze away from her face. And he is right. She's not bluffing.

The idiot was looking at her face, scanning to see what the other guy was seeing. “Alright, I'll delete it. I was just taking random pictures of the campus anyway.”

She was waiting for him to do it, but he didn't do it, yet. “Do it, right now.”

“I'll delete it later.” He said.

“Delete it now, Cory.” The green-eyed spoke, she almost thought he was a decent guy. Almost, until he spoke again. “We don't want our front row princess to tell on us to her teacher, now do we?” His lips curved up to a stupid, irritating smirk.

Her face could have sworn it was hot as hell from all the anger if it was possible. Cory finally deleted it, and showed her. “There, happy now?”

She didn't reply, just turned and walked away from them. She could feel as though her skin was being burnt because she knew that a pair of beautiful green eyes was staring at her as she walked away.

Two weeks have passed since this incident. Jameson has forgotten about it or so he thought, he did see her in class and think about how different she was that day from how she acts in class, she almost speaks to no one other than the professor to ask for doubts or questions. He wondered if she even has friends, with her introverted personality, and quick to try and sue anyone who would want to be friends with her? Or the real question is, does she want to be friends with anyone at all?

Yeah, she probably hates everyone. But why is it taking psychology? Maybe that's not her major, he wondered what her major would be. It's definitely not psychology, because he can't imagine her as a psychologist. Maybe she majors in business, but then again, why would she take psych?

Why are his thoughts filled with her and her life? She is no one. She is just some girl passing by, a girl who happened to be more than just what she shows. He knows that, Jameson knows how to read people. Even before his psychology classes, he was not as good as his brother but he is good, and he can read her, just a little more time with her, and he'll have a master degree on her.

The next couple days Jameson skipped psychology classes because he couldn't help but stare and observe her, it was getting ridiculous to the point that even Dean who sleeps in class noticed it. For two days Jameson spent psychology class hours on the rooftop, he has done this on Heights Country High, why not in Yale too? But today was different, the door’s latch was already open, and the door was about 4 inches open.

He pushes past the door and saw someone standing near the edge, at first he thought this was a suicide attempt, but the person was calm, quiet, looking everywhere with a notepad on one hand and a pen on the other. The person was a girl who wore her hair up in a ponytail, her skirt was moving in the direction of the wind, he knew who it was. He could never forget her back profile.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't my favourite front row princess.” He regretted speaking out of the blue because it scared her to the point she jerked up, she could have fallen.

“Fuck!” She yelped.

“You know how to curse?” He teased her.

“Yes, asshole. I’m not 2.” She rolled her eyes when she turned to see who it was.

He smiled. “Never thought I'd see the day where you'd skip classes. Or are you stalking me?”

“Last I checked, I was here first. So, are you stalking me?” she asked.

“I've been here for a couple days, princess. What are you doing here?” He answered and asked the question out of curiosity.

“What are you doing here?”

“You first.”

“No.”

“I'll figure it out on my own.” He said and started to observe, she was writing something down before he interrupted her. He can't figure it out, it's too vague, maybe if she gave her notepad he could get something.

She was quicker than him, she somehow figured that he was about to snatch her notepad from her, and was on her guard.

“Come on. How about we make a deal, yeah? You tell me why you are skipping class and hanging out with yourself on the rooftop, and I'll owe you one.” He tried.

“How do I know that you'd actually keep your word?” She raised an eyebrow, rolling her eyes.

“A Hawthorne never not keep his word.” He said it out proudly. Something to be proud of from that name.

“Right, you're a Hawthorne.” She added. “Why are you so determined to know why I'm here? You get nothing out of it, and yet you're saying you'll owe me one.” She was questioning whether or not to agree to this deal. Having Jameson Hawthorne owe you one is a vid deal.

“I'm a man of mysteries. I also tend to like mysteries. And you, princess? One hell of a mystery. I figured that much two weeks ago when you threatened to sue my friend.” He smiled, taking a step closer. “So? What do you say? Deal?” He asked.

She sighed. “For my journalism class, I have to write about something new…something that is ‘not in my bubble’ as my professor worded it, hence the rooftop.”

Jameson’s face was pulled together in confusion. “Still a bit vague. Are you going to try to fly?”

She rolled her eyes which made him smile. “No. Just looking at people from a different perspective. I don't think I can go out of my bubble but I can always observe people from different angles and be them for a while to write a different story. Sounds a bit stupid but it'll work. And I'll get an A.”

Jameson noticed how her eyes sparkled when she said ‘I'll get an A.” It made him smile even wider.

“That's still not doing what your professor asked.” He pointed it out.

“But it's not the same repetitive story as before. It's new, so.” She shrugged.

Jameson was quiet for a while. “You said you can't go out of your bubble. Is it can't or won't?”

She just glared at him as if he lied about something. Ironically he only told the truth.

“See? You don't even try, and say you can't.”

“It's not easy for me, okay? If I do new things out of the blue, people will stare at me, look at me weirdly or bully me too. I can't just step out of my bubble like that. Even if people are nice, it's me. I'm awkward, and just stupid when it comes to socialising or anything that's not just academics, and some extracurriculars that I do.” She let out a quick sigh before shaking her head.

“So stupid. I don't even know why I'm telling you this.” She murmured.

Jameson was quiet for a few seconds. “I'll tell you what. I said I owe you one, right? How about this; I help you get out of your bubble. I'll help you socialise and all that stuff, stuff that are not you. I'll help you with them.”

“When you owe someone it's up to them to decide what it is.” She said with a little sass.

“I know, princess. But think about it. It's a good one. I'm just suggesting, it's up to you.” He took another step, now only two feet away from her with his hands extended in front. “Deal?”

She bit her lips out of frustration.

Jameson chuckled. “Take it or leave it. Don't need to kill yourself over it.” But he wanted her to take it, so bad.

She let go of her bottom lips, and relaxed her shoulders. She passed the pen to the other hand, holding both the notepad and pen in one, she spoke “deal.”

Her soft palm met his and shook gently. The touch shouldn't have sent goosebumps to Jameson but it did.

[jamessluttythighs]

Hey, I hope you're doing well... unfortunately, I'm not sure if you're taking these right now. If you're not, feel free to ignore it, but if you are.... would it be possible for you to use your username as a prompt? Like, I don't know Regulus that can't keep his eyes off James thighs because they look that good😭.

Honestly, I just love your username, that's why. Anyway, I hope you have a good day/night🫶🏾

inbox request - james’ slutty thighs - word count: 461 - send me some prompts if you want

Despite what many people say, Mondays were the best day of the week in Regulus’ opinion. He would head down to the Quidditch pitch before breakfast, just to make sure that Monday would in fact be the best day of the week. 

When Dorcas asked who was an early riser Regulus jumped at the duty, even though that couldn’t be more of a lie. She only gave him a knowing smile. Someone needed to book the Quidditch pitch for their practices and James, the gracious captain he was, always booked their rival’s practice times religiously. 

There it was, the clipboard with the ratty timetable flapping on it, a pen dangling on a string right next to it.

16:00 to 17:30: Gryffindor 

17:30 to 19:00: Slytherin

Regulus filled it in every Monday without fail. He was pathetic. Just the untidy scrawling that James left behind was enough to make him smile. Sometimes, if he timed it just right, he would catch James as he finished and earn himself a “Hiya, Reg. Have a good day!” 

Those Mondays were extra perfect. 

Well almost as perfect as the Mondays at the end of the month. The end of the month when James’ laundry was almost due. The end of the month Mondays when all James Potter had left in his cupboard was way-too-tight shorts to practise in. 

Luckily this Monday was one of those Mondays. That evening Regulus went to the pitch early. The sun bathed the field in a golden glow. The luscious grass glinting in the light. Summer filled the air.

Regulus lurked around the stands, waiting in the shadows so that, completely coincidentally, he could get dressed as the Gryffindors hit the showers. James was an outstanding captain. He zoomed through the air, both playing and offering direction. His legs fully on display; white rugby shorts that the muggles wear, doing wonders for Regulus, leaving little to the imagination. 

Seven pairs of feet hit the floor with a thud as the practice ended. There was a shout that indicated Sirius and James were partaking in their post-practice play-wrestling ritual. That was Regulus’ cue to head to the change rooms. 

Slowly unpacking his uniform, Regulus dared to glance at the door as the boys came bustling in. 

Ugh, have mercy.

Glistening brown skin overwhelmed Regulus’ view. Strong, broad shoulders hidden under a maroon shirt. He allowed his eyes to trail lower, lower, lower.  

It should be illegal to have thighs that good. Muscular, firm and almost as rideable as a broomstick. The man’s slutty thighs were sinful. 

Struggling, Regulus pushed the unholy thoughts out of his mind and focused again.

“Alright, there Reg? You look as though you’ve just run a lap, you’re out of breath,” James remarked.

[ohmotherwhereartthou-if]

Saw this ask on another blog.

How would the ROs react if they fall from a high place and MC catch them. Like they where on top of a chair and fall in the MC arms.

Cassandra: I feel like this would be an instinct that she didn't really know she had, to move forward and reach out to catch MC. Her face would just as surprised as yours, she would have the strength to carry you; man or woman (If you were really heavy for her then she could carry you long enough to break the fall then put you back on your feet). I don't think she would really have any words to say afterwards either, just straight 😯 face. Would have you steady on your feet before asking if you're alright, dusts you off and looks you over for any injuries before nagging you to be more careful.

Valeria: LMAO, you both are falling to the floor. She might have strong arms but she misses leg day, everyday. She would reach out to try though, and it's the thought of trying to catch you that counts.

Tomas: Was hovering right next to you in case you fell anyway, catches you instantly and holds you tight in his strong arms for a moment. Low key does not want to put you down because he feels so overjoyed and satisfied at that very moment, he absolutely loves this feeling. When he eventually puts you down, he dotes on you for a good while; all cooing and fussing over you lovingly. It comes off slightly as babying but I mean... he finds you and this whole situation absolutely adorable!

-

Ludovica: ...You are also both falling to the floor. Like instantly, absolutely zero resistance. She would have been right next to you too, telling you to be careful. I doubt she even had the reaction time to raise her arms to try and catch you, she probably just squeaked and crumbled under you.

Aurelio: My man probably was a little ways away from you when you fell, he doesn't really hover so he had given you some space while you were doing whatever it was that you were doing. But he has decent reaction time and used his long as legs to cross the distance and catch you. Insert wack ass pun about falling for him and he puts you down. Would only make this a cheesy romantic moment if MC looks into his eyes all surprised and in love, if MC acts casual about it, so will he.

Elio: I would like to say that he would let you fall because I love characterizing him as an asshole with a cat's affectionate bipolar personality. But he probably would walk over if he thought you would probably fall, would react in perfect time to catch you. Cue the little bastard's smirk and cute head tilt, asking if you are okay. Oh, and he doesn't struggle or waver to catch you AT ALL; for how little working out and how much he dodges hard work like the plague, he is surprisingly strong.

[acefictionwriting]

Scout’s Med Bay Stay (TF2 Bang)

-Hi! This is my contribution to the TF2 Big Bang Event! Scout wakes up after being injured to find some new strange people he’s going to get to know.

Made with Artists

@ermg33 - here is their Art Post

@sicc-nasti - here is their Art Post

As the man awoke, he had no idea what was happening. He had no idea where he was, no idea what was going on, or why he was here. It started coming back to him, but before he could put everything together, the pain shot up his legs.

Ow. Right, the enemy grenades. Shit, I hate enemy Demolition bombers. What did you get yourself into, Jeremy? 

Jeremy opened his eyes and looked around, discovering he was in a med bay. The Scouting mission must have gone wrong, really wrong, since the other scout wasn’t there. He didn’t recognize anyone in the room.

“Ah! You are awake! I was hoping to harvest your organs, but at least the replacements worked!”

“What?” 

The Scout looked at the man, and he nearly pissed himself. 

Oh no, not the medic guy again. 

“Uh, I don’t—” Jeremy tried to make an excuse for the man not to get too close, but before he could, the Medic was pulling him up from the bed to sit him up. 

“You stay here Späher, I will get you the new medicine. You will make a great first test!!”

Jeremy didn’t have time to stop the man, nor did he really want to. He also didn’t ask why the American medic was German. 

His legs were still killing him, and despite the dread he felt thinking about everything that could have happened to him, he ripped off the sheets anyway out of impulsive curiosity. They looked perfectly fine, besides the fact they had been cut off and reattached and left a giant scar. That’s probably OK. He moved his foot to find out if they still worked and jumped up in pain. 

“He is brutal, but he always succeeds. Your legs work alright, Erreur?” 

Scout looked to his right, and a man he hadn’t noticed before was there. The man had a bandage covering most of his face and was standing in the shadows enough that the rest wasn’t showing. It sounded like he smoked enough to kill him twice a day. 

“Jesus, man, didn’t see ya there. Yeah, they work. If they didn’t, I dunno what I’d do. I’m a runner. I do the Scout work, finding out where the Germans are gonna be and making sure there’s no trouble. And if there was trouble, well, I took care of it.”

“You aren’t supposed to do that on scouting missions.”

“Well, I did. And that’s gonna make me a hero or something when it works out. Then I’ll go home to my girl, and she won’t be able to resist me!” 

“WE WILL GO HOME TO OUR WOMEN WHEN WE WIN THIS BLASTED WAR. KEEP AT IT SOLDIER. WE’LL KEEP THOSE GERMANS AT BAY AND—” 

Scout turned his head to see a man in full restraints on a bed, wearing an oversized helmet over his eyes. The Medic seemed to know this man and definitely didn't like him.

“Nein… not again. You are not a soldier. How do you get in here…” 

“I AM AN AMERICAN SOLDIER THROUGH AND THROUGH—” 

“You have a head injury, du verdammter Idiot.” 

Scout turned his head away from the half-shouting match, half-desperate argument. The bandaged man in the shadows had disappeared, which Jeremy thought was fucking weird. 

With nothing else to do, he pulled out his locket with a blurry picture of Pauline F. Pauling. 

She’ll like me for sure now that I’ve got manly scars and stuff. I’ll come home her hero, and we’ll get to kiss and— 

“MMMFF MMMH MMM.” 

“GAH— WHY ARE YOU ALL SO QUIET UNTIL I’M TRYING TO FOCUS?” 

Scout turned to the bed on his left, seeing the not-a-soldier and the medic fight in the background, and someone entirely wrapped in bandages in the bed close to his. 

“Jesus, what happened to you?” 

“Mmmhff mmmhb mffhh mmmmffhhhh mmm MMMFF mmmh.” 

“Ja, we don’t know who that is. Don’t even know what side they’re on. I’ve just been using them for my experimental injections. Beyond that?” The medic shrugged and resumed his argument with the American. 

“I gotta get out of here. We gotta get out of here; you gotta be real messed up from that.” 

The burned patient muttered a muffled something that sounded like a verbal shrug. They then pointed to the locket. 

“My girl? Yeah, she’s a real beaut, huh?” 

“Is that ‘your girl’ mon étrange collègue enfantin?” 

“OK, we’re getting you a bell.”

The French man sighed and stepped away from the shadow of the door. He stuck to the shadows and the wall, but stood next to the scout. Despite not knowing the man, Jeremy felt like a stray cat had sat next to him while not getting close to anyone else. It would be some sort of honor if the stench of cigarettes wasn’t so overpowering. 

“Écoute, mon ami, you have been injured. Is there anyone you would like to inform? This girl? Perhaps your mother?”

“Well, I gotta tell Ma about this. I bet Pauling would love to hear about me and my cool battle wounds now.”

“Right… I’m sure. I will get the communications officer.”

Even Scout could see the man just wanted to leave the conversation.

Why’d he look so uncomfortable? 

There was silence then, or as much of a silence as there could be in the overcrowded room. Scout never liked not being part of a conversation in a group of people. He felt left out. His brothers always seemed closer to each other than to him, so he was pushed out of conversations often, even when they did not mean to exclude him. Scout looked around the room. He supposed the same thing had kept happening in the army. He had had brief conversations with everyone in the medical area, but they all ended suddenly. He preferred the chaos of everyone popping up suddenly to the emptiness of everyone ignoring him. Jeremy looked over to the burn victim to his left, but they had fallen asleep, it seemed, as they made a cartoonish mimimimimi sound from under the seemingly infinite bandages. The silence was uncomfortable, but not uncomfortable enough for Jeremy to wake up someone with severe injuries.

“Ah. You’re no help.” 

The Scout briefly considered talking to himself, but remembered when he was caught and teased by his brothers for that. Ma had said they meant well, but even so, Jeremy never wanted to seem crazy. At least not in a nonviolent way. Instead of talking to himself, he decided to do what he usually did when he was nervous or unsure. He counted all the ways he was the coolest person alive who would totally live the most incredible life anyone ever had. He was on reason number seven (he had miscounted severely. It was the 16th reason) when the door opened again. 

“Hey, face guy! You’re back! Is this that letter guy? Make my injury sound really bad so it looks better when I go home. Hey, wait, there's two guys.”

The first man was tall and had an eyepatch. Scout thought that was awesome. He had a bottle of… what smelled like 100% alcohol in his hand and was leaning against the doorway, half asleep, half on high alert. Scout thought it best not to disturb this man until he became more aware of his surroundings. Instead, the scout turned his attention to the other man, with papers in his hands.

The second man was short and had other features that Scout immediately ignored in favor of the robotic arm the man had. 

“WOAH, ARE YOU A ROBOT?”

The man laughed warmly, as if he’d heard it before from others. 

“Well, I’m technically a cyborg,” said the man, with a warm smile, “and I’m also the correspondence officer until we find another guy who isn’t dead to do it. I’m Dell, but they call me Engineer most of the time.”

“Can I ask, like, a bajillion questions about the—” 

“No, you may not! But my friend here is gonna ask you a few questions before we get this letter written. Tavish, I think you’d better do the talking.” 

Scout had thought Dell was friendly, and he generally seemed to be, but there was a tone to the man’s voice that said another question about his arm would make him far less friendly. So Jeremy decided to do the most difficult thing he’d ever done, and be quiet as the Engineer stepped aside to make room for the hulking man with the eyepatch. 

“My name is Tavish. I’m a demolitions expert addicted to alcohol and explosives—” 

“Wrong speech, buddy,” said the Engineer encouragingly, as though this had happened many times before. 

“Aye, right. Ahem.” 

Tavish took out a piece of paper from his back pocket that was surprisingly pristine. He took a stick of dynamite out from the other, put it back, and looked around for something else. The French guy handed him a small gun as though knowing what he was looking for. 

“Right, thanks.” The demolitions expert shot the ceiling twice to gather everyone’s attention. He handed the gun back and took reading glasses out of another pocket. 

“You are all hereby requested for a special secret mission. The people hiring you will not reveal their names or the mission’s purpose, but we assure you that it is of utmost importance. You will be relocated to a strategic and secret area that may turn the tide in this war. Each of you has been selected due to the special skills you possess, as well as a general lack of morality. Also, we will pay you. We know some of you are here to be paid. We implore you to consider this opportunity and join our team.”

“Hey, where did your British accent come from there, weren’t you Irish or Scottish or somethin’? Also, yeah, I’m gonna do that. Can I tell my Ma?” 

“Aye. Any other questions?”

“Ja, will there be room for my experiments there? Also, mein vögel, can they come? I can go with du all if I’m not taken from my work.”

“Aye, your experiments are why you're here, and experimenting with test subjects is encouraged.” 

“Oh, then Ja!” 

Each person asked questions, but since Scout had already accepted, the Engineer gave him one of the papers to sign and started writing Jeremy’s letter on another paper that was not a contract. Jeremy let everyone else fade into the background as he told his mom and his girl all about his injuries and how much he missed them in the letters. He took a while to sign his name, struggling with the letters, but Dell was quite understanding. Jeremy decided that he enjoyed the Engineer’s company. 

The only thing that seemed off was the Spy. He did not seem excited about the contract, but he did sign the papers. 

Each of the men, now called The Teufort Mercenaries, were helped out to the vehicle, except for the burned one, who was driven in a personal ambulance since they couldn’t move. 

Scout wondered how they signed the paperwork. He wondered how his Ma would take it, with him being gone even longer than planned, but how much longer would it be? A week? Probably a week. Ma would be alright, he explained everything in his letter. She had his brothers to take care of her. He smiled, excited to drive off to a new, exciting, and important life. 

The Spy, Demo, and Engineer stayed behind longer than the others. 

“These letters, they will not be sent, non?” 

“No, unfortunately, we have to burn ‘em. Gonna tell everyone these guys died in battle.”

“What about ze medic?” 

“Oh, we don’t know where he came from. He just started saving lives by making abominations to god, and we let him.”

“What ze fuck is wrong with you all?” 

“Ask the higher-ups.” 

Meanwhile, Tavish was getting paid by a woman who addressed herself as P. He assumed that was because of her purple attire. 

“So you’ll take them all to the desert location, right?”

“Aye.” 

“And you won’t ask questions?”

“Aye. Not my job.”

“You’ll be perfect. Here’s the hundred. Go take them to Teufort.” 

The woman then started calling her boss and walking away, and Tavish walked away as well. He thought he had heard, “They’re out of our hair now,” but he did not question it because it was his job now not to ask questions.

They all rejoined the group in the van, everyone having been ignorant of their absence. The lively chatter continued as everyone awaited their trip to a new life. A life that was not the heroic one they had expected, but simply a way to rid the world of these strange people. 

[idontplaytrack]

I loved the regressed Janis fic! Would you either be willing to write a part two or just another one?

Feel free to ignore this. I just thought it was too cute!

Milkshakes & Muppets

Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George

Warnings: age regression, fluff

Part 2 of Tiny Monkey

“Baby, what are you doing? Let’s go!” Regina hollers, standing in the doorway of the side door that led into Janis’ garage.

“I can’t find it!” Janis exclaimed, vexed.

Regina sighs softly, entering the garage, “What is it, baby? What’re you looking for?”

“Milo.” Janis pouted, “Monkey, I can’t find that.”

Oh, right. The tiny stuffed monkey.

"Baby, we gave Milo a bath because you dropped him at the playground." Regina reminded, "He's still under the sun outside to dry off."

"Aw, right." Janis sulked.

“Hey, you still have Mack.” Regina held up the other stuffed monkey Janis had, “You can take him.”

“No, that’s…” Janis began, now staring at the stuffed animal that Regina was holding up. Did she want to take such a big stuffed animal out? “Mack is for sleepytime only.”

“Are you sure?” Regina asks for confirmation, figuring that Janis was probably worried about unwanted attention. But they have both seen kids their age openly bringing stuffed animals like this one to school, anyway.

“I don’t know.” Janis reached out for the stuffed monkey despite her reply.

Regina spotted this blue and orange coloured drawstring bag specifically for plushies by Janis’ dresser, “How about…we bring a bag so if you don’t want to hold him for a bit, you can still carry the bag with him in it?”

“Oh.” Janis gasped softly, “Okay.” 

“Alright, let’s go get milkshakes.” Regina grins, unnoticed by Janis as she took her hand and led her to the Jeep. Regina urges Janis to hop on, then she buckled her in before getting into the driver's seat, “Wanna hold on to the bag while I drive?”

“Kay.” Janis agreed. 

“Here you go.” Regina handed her the bag, Janis laid it flat on her lap with Mack resting right on top of it while she cuddled him.

“Okay, off we go.” 

Regina drives them to their usual spot for milkshakes— this family-owned diner about a twenty minute drive away from Janis’ home. Once they got there, Regina found the both of them a nice little booth in the corner. Typically, a server would have to take them to an open table, but they’ve been here so much that whoever works there on that day just let them help themselves. “What milkshake do you want?” Regina asks while skimming through that particular section in the menu, then glancing at Janis.

Janis shrugged, obviously not able to read much. Well, either that or she didn’t want to. “Can I pick for you?” Regina asks after a minute. Janis nodded, chin resting on her stuffed monkey Mack as she hugged it on the table. 

Regina silently decided their orders and called for someone to come over to take the order.

“Hi, what can I— oh, G! Hi!” 

“Gretchen.” Regina’s eyes were wide for a moment, “Hey.”

“Aw, that’s a cute stuffy.” Gretchen remarked. Janis said hi to her by using Mack’s arm to wave at her.

“Hi, Janis.” Gretchen smiled at the gesture, completely unfazed. “Ready to order?” She asks, looking back at Regina.

“Yeah. Two milkshakes— one chocolate malt and one chocolate cherry.” Regina told Gretchen while keeping an eye on Janis in case she objected, “Sweet potato fries with the cheesy omelette. Then…a cheeseburger.”

“Okay, coming right up.” Gretchen confirmed, “Let me just get the menus out of your way.”

“Thanks.” Regina answers. Janis waved to her again the same way, making Gretchen smile. Regina couldn’t help but find herself a little worried about what was going through Gretchen’s head seeing Janis in her current state. Though, her friend didn’t say anything about it and Janis said nothing at all. She just wanted Janis to not be judged. 

“Feeling okay?” Regina leaned closer to ask.

“Yeah.” Janis nodded, now leaning back against the backrest still holding onto Mack.

“Tell you what— let’s go to the toy store after we’re done here, what do you say?”

“Okay.” Janis agreed, perking up. “I’m hungy.”

“I know, I already ordered— let’s just hang on for a little while, hm?” Regina coaxed. Okay, so that’s why Janis was being quiet— she was hungry. 

“What do you wanna do when we go home?” Regina asks again, to keep the conversation going and steer clear of the bad mood.

“Bubbles?” Janis asks hopefully.

“Sure, baby.” Regina shrugs, “Only if you promise to be good and take a shower.” 

“Aw.” Janis pouted.

“Hey, it can’t feel nice to be all sweaty all day long.” Regina reasoned. 

Janis set Mack down and pushed him aside then was grabbing onto Regina’s hands and playing with her rings. “Yeah.” Janis finally agreed, “Okay. I shower.”

“Attagirl.” Regina smiled, relieved. 

Approximately fifteen minutes later, Gretchen came back with their food, then their milkshakes. “Here you go. Enjoy.” 

“Thank you.” Regina and Janis answered in sync, but in totally different tones.

Regina let Janis choose what she wanted to eat, and the girl went for the omelette. “Need some help?”

Janis shook her head, “Uh-uh.” She starts off with the fries, then soon stabs her fork into the omelette— folded. Regina still kept an eye on her, obviously. Just in case. 

“Is it yummy?” Regina asked.

“Yes.” Janis replied, holding a sweet potato fry to Regina’s lips, “For you.”

Regina grinned, parting her lips and biting the fry, “Thanks, baby.” 

After a nice lunch, Regina paid, said bye to Gretchen on the way out and took Janis to the toy store upstairs as promised. 

“Hey.” Regina stops in her tracks, tugging onto Janis’ hand, “Hold my hand, don't run, baby.”

Janis whined, but listened, slowing down her pace. Regina brushes her thumb over her knuckles, squeezing her hand. They enter the toy store, and Janis was the happiest person alive. “If you wanna get anything at all, you gotta let me see it first. Just one thing, okay?” Regina stopped walking to tell her that. 

Janis thought over her words and gave a firm nod, “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Regina said back, “Let’s take a look-see around this place together.” 

As tempted as Regina was, she couldn’t go buying Janis every single thing she asked for. See, Regina could afford it. But spoiling her this way? Regina was a little worried Janis might end up continuously asking for toys and things every single time she regressed because she knew she’ll get it. Anyway, so far…Regina has not contacted Damian one time for help. So she was feeling pretty good about that. 

“Ginaaaa.” Janis called out for her, she notices that Janis was mere few feet away looking at a shelf of stuffed animals. “Yeah, baby?” Regina quickly stood right behind her, “What’s up?”

“Can I get that?” 

Regina focused her attention on whatever stuffed animal Janis was pointing at. $25. Not too bad. Regina took the item from the shelf and checked the tag— it was on sale for $17. “Okay.” Curious George. Regina couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. This girl really had a favourite animal.

“Really?” Janis asked quietly. 

“Yeah, really.” Regina confirmed, “Here, you wanna hold it for now while we look around some more?”

Janis gleefully grabbed the stuffed monkey from Regina then held onto Regina’s hand before they continued their shopping. Yes— another monkey. As they walk through aisle after aisle, Regina spotted a little something that she thought would be fun for Janis— a puzzle. A zoo animal puzzle. She grabbed that without Janis noticing. Eventually, they were at the checkout, and Regina tried to take the stuffed animal from Janis but the shorter girl refused to let go. “Nooo.” Janis resisted. Regina quirked a brow, exhaling in exasperation. “Please? It’ll just be a second.” Regina pleaded, thanking her lucky stars that there wasn’t a line. 

“Hun, it’s okay, I just need the tag to scan it.” The cashier interjected quietly.

Regina nodded, swiftly pulling the paper tag off the stuffed toy’s ear to hand over to the cashier, “Sorry about that.”

“No, you’re good.” The cashier shrugged, smiling lightly as she scanned the tag, then the puzzle box. “Will that be all?”

Regina nodded wordlessly, debit card ready in hand. 

“Alright, your total’s $28.12. By card?”

“Yep.” 

————

“Okay, shower time, baby. Let’s go, you promised.” 

“No.” She stood rooted to the ground and looked at Regina, seemingly irritated.

Regina huffs, feeling the annoyance in her bubbling up to the surface, “Baby, if you’re gonna get upset over that I’m gonna have to give you a timeout. Or I’m taking away a toy.” Regina kept it together though, talking to her as calmly as possible. 

But the effort was futile. Janis dropped the new toy and just ran into the garage and dove face first into her bed. Regina had no idea what caused her to be this upset all of a sudden. Now Regina wanted to scream too— she’d been nothing but patient and reaching her limit if this tantrum continues. Regina picked the toy off the floor then took a minute to take some deep breaths and calm down. After that, she knocks on the side door before opening it and stepping into Janis’ garage. Regina saw Janis sat up in her bed, hugging her knees to her chest— still crying. Janis saw her, and started blinking profusely to clear her vision. 

Why was she crying? Regina had no clue yet— but it was starting to upset Regina herself. She hated seeing her sad. Partially because of their history, but also because Regina knew that currently Janis wasn’t too good with describing how she was feeling with words, given the ongoing regression. So she was crying, to release the emotions she needed to release.

“Baby.” Regina walked up to her slowly, not wanting to startle her. “What’s the matter, Janis? Do you feel sick?”

Janis looked at Regina with teary eyes, “No.”

Regina continued, “Are you sleepy?”

Janis exhaled shakily, nodding her head as more tears just fell from her eyes. “Oh.” Regina heaved a sigh in relief, “Lie down, alright?”

Janis did as Regina asked, laying down in her bed without resistance. “Want me to get Milo for you, baby?” 

“Yes, please.” Janis laid on her side now, sniffling. 

“I’ll be right back with you, okay?”

Regina quickly grabbed the small toy and re-entered the house, and finally the garage. 

“Here you are.” Regina hands it over, “He’s all nice and clean.” 

“Thank you.” Janis took it and just held it in her hand. 

“You’re welcome. I brought you Mack and the new one I just got you.” Regina settled down next to Janis, shifting herself to be closer, “Just in case.” 

Janis set the other two next to her head by the pillow, then shut her eyes, allowing herself to drift off to sleep. Regina put an arm around her, patting her side to lull her into slumber. “Nap well, baby.” Regina presses a soft kiss to her shoulder blade, “I’ll be right here if you need anything, huh?”

All was calm again, and they even woke up from their naps right around the same time. “I have an idea.” Regina sat up, looking right at Janis. Janis rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, “What?”

“I think we should bake a cake for dessert.” Regina grins.

“Ooh, fun.” Janis laughed, “I want to.” 

After lazing in bed for a little longer, the pair headed for the kitchen. Regina retrieved the needed ingredients from the fridge and pantry, then all the baking equipment. “Okay, pour that in there, Janis.” Regina nudged. Obediently, Janis dumps the sugar into the mixing bowl. “Okay, you wanna help me mix it?” Regina asked, glancing at her for a beat. 

Janis immediately got the idea to stick her hand into the batter and practically threw it onto Regina’s shirt then smudged it with her hand. Regina being entirely unprepared, only shrieked. 

“Oh, my God, baby.” Regina muttered.

Janis, of course, was finding this whole thing to be super funny and giggling. Regina retaliates by sticking her hand onto the flour and sprinkling some of it into the brunette’s face. Janis squealed, hopping off the counter and ran away from the blonde. “I’m gonna get you.” Regina smirked.

“Nooooo, you’re not.” Janis stuck her tongue out at her, still quite literally doubled over in laughter. 

“Say you’re sorry.” Regina slowed down as Janis ducked behind the couch. 

Janis just kept laughing. Like always, Regina adored that sound, that melodious laughter. Even better now that she was regressed and that laughter seemingly went up in pitch a little. It was so damn cute.

“Sorry.” Janis eventually said it, very cutely too. Regina’s feeling of irritation definitely went away at that. Then, Regina got an idea. “Come ‘ere.” They met each other in the middle, Janis clearly didn’t think much of it, but Regina playfully just hugged her like that so her t-shirt got dirty too. “Now we’re even.”

“Hey!” Janis gasped.

Regina laughed, “Sorry. Let’s get that into the oven then we can order some pizza for dinner. Sound good?” 

At the mention of pizza, Janis forgot about her dirty shirt, “Ooh, really?”

“Are you gonna give me a kiss?” Regina joked. 

Janis bursts into a giggling fit, “Not now.”

“Aw.” Regina pulls an exaggerated sad face, but moved on to pop the cake into the oven just as quickly. Janis leaned against the counter, watching her. “You wanna shower?” Regina asks, truthfully a little nervous about it. Look, she has definitely showered together with Janis before, but actually helping her shower while she was regressed? Never. 

“Yeah.” Janis nods, scrunching up her face, “I can’t wear dis.” 

“I know.” Regina lets a little laugh slip, “I’ll help you, c’mon. Let’s go pick out a new outfit. How about some jammies?”

“Okay, hehe.” Janis agrees, letting Regina hold onto her wrist as they headed back into Janis’ garage. 

Okay, so Regina’s finally got a small taste of how Janis was like when she got more energetic during regression. Was it unexpected? Nope. Damian’s already warned her, and besides, Janis still had that same cheekiness even when she wasn’t regressed. In the moment, she may get a little annoyed or taken aback, but Regina was starting to really adore taking care of Janis when she was in that headspace. 

Their evening ended up being their usual calm vibe, they ate their favourite pizzas while curled up on the couch in the living room watching Sesame Street — upon Janis’ request. Not much was said, just some laughter here and there at funny moments. And though Regina wasn’t sure how long it typically took for Janis to return to her ‘normal’ headspace, she wasn’t too worried since they still had more than a weeks’ worth of days off for Thanksgiving break before they had to go back to school.

“Do you like Elmo?” Regina heard the question.

WIthout much thought, she answered, “Yeah.” While giving Janis head scratches just like she liked. “Elmo’s cute.”

“Yeah.” Janis grins, munching on the pizza slice, “Ernie’s my favourite.”

“Oh, is he?” Regina bit back a laugh. She wasn’t gonna lie, she saw a similar cheekiness in her. 

Like last night, Regina manages to get Janis in bed by 10:30 after dessert. Then she did some cleaning up in the kitchen. FInally on her own and with some quiet, Regina shot Damian a text to give him an update. After the kitchen was all clean, Regina then washed up then climbed into bed with Janis. The next morning, Janis woke up with no recollection of most of the last two days. Until she saw the new monkey plushie staring at her in her bed. “Um.” Janis licked her lips, “So, you— you know, then?”

Regina nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

“It must be weird for you.”

“No, no it’s not.” Regina says, “I understand why it’s used as a way to cope. I’m just…glad you feel safe around me to regress. If it helps you, it helps you. I will take care of you.”

“Maybe…I’ll tell you why some day but, not yet.” Janis revealed softly, “Thank you, though.”

“It was nothing.” Regina smiled, holding onto her hand and giving it a squeeze.

“My parents are coming home soon so I have to…pack everything up.” Janis sighs, looking down and seeing the pyjamas she was wearing, “Including these pjs.” 

“Tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, but sometimes they come home earlier, so I can never be too careful.” Janis shrugged, walking over to her dresser and stripping the pyjamas off and putting on one of her usual comfy outfits. 

“Would you like to get some gear to leave at my house?” Regina suggested cautiously, “Just for when you’re there and need it. I’d like to be prepared so you’re more comfortable.”

“How are you so okay with this?”

“Because I get it— life is hard as shit.” Regina scoffs, “Don’t worry about it. I got you, okay? It’s just between us, and Damian.”

Janis nodded, beyond relieved it ended up so well. Way better than she could have imagined. 

“Janis. I mean it.” Regina tilted her face so she’d look at her. “I mean it, I got you. I love you— I will always be here for you no matter what happens. You are safe with me and I am so serious about that.”

“I love you too.” Janis teared up a bit, “Thank you, it feels like such a huge weight’s been lifted off my shoulders. Thank you.”

Regina plants a kiss on her forehead and engulfed her in a hug, rubbing her back soothingly, “Just doing what I can, baby.”

🏷️Tag list:

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

💭A/N:

Wound up being a little bit longer than expected, but I hope you enjoyed it😬

[carefulfears]

what do you think mulder thinks of diana fowley after biogenesis through amor fati? i don't think we really see anything on screen/in text (though i think it says a lot that he didn't have much of a reaction when scully came to his apartment & instead focuses on scully & their relationship lol)

yeah there’s basically NOTHING in the text but tbh i think finding out for certain that she was working with CSM really kindaaaa snapped him out of some things…mulder doesn’t give a fuck what people do to him, obviously, but it’s a different thing entirely to find out that your ex is involved in something like that. like there are MILES from “my partner makes me feel like shit and is maybe pretty abusive” and “my partner is like 3rd on the call list of a eugenics group that treats women like test subjects”

like, scully was right, diana was monitoring MUFON women and collecting data on them. she was heading up the tests on cassandra. she probably knew the truth about samantha the whole time. just nasty nasty shit.

she’s the villain in the amor fati dream: the dismissive symbol of abandonment that offers another path.

one of the most interesting scenes of diana’s character to me, is in the sixth extinction, when she comes to see mulder in the hospital. and she knows what the effects of the artifact are, that he can hear what she’s thinking. that, therefore, he knows who she works for and what she’s doing. (imagine your ex-husband/wannabe boyfriend/obsession finds out you’re lying to him because he can read your mind….shit is crazy!)

and she tells him that she knows he knows. but that he also knows that she loves him.

and she does love him. there’s no reason to lie about that then, she knows he would be able to tell.

scully knows it without hearing it, that’s how she gets diana to save mulder’s life, ultimately. she comes to her and begs. tells her to please just think of him, who he is, who he was when she met him, who he is now. in the end, because of scully weaponizing how diana feels, diana can’t go through with it. she gives her life to help him.

diana seems to be one of those influences on mulder that’s only really all that significant when she’s close by. it’s like how all the tension in the beginning builds up to him getting in her car when she tells him to, leaving scully, when diana is there instructing him.

i think being able to know who she truly was and her true intentions and allegiances, prior to her death, really goes a long way in the way he responds to losing her.

don’t get me wrong, i think he’s upset. you can kind of see the shock cross his face when scully tells him. but he stays focused on his goal, which is to express to scully how important she is to him, in the wake of how discarded diana always made her feel.

mulder loved diana and grieves that she was killed, he doesn’t have it in him not to, but mostly he…wanted something from her, right? he wanted that approval and “affection” and to please her. he wanted her to believe him. the first thing that she says to disarm him (in the end) when she can tell he’s uneasy, is, “hey. i’m on your side.”

learning who she really is, it’s easier not to crave her approval so badly.

(this is the crux of amor fati’s “last temptation.” it’s diana saying: you’re childish. you are going to fail. your path is not your own. “you have to let go, fox.” and it’s scully countering: we need you. this is who you are.)

(it’s why he responds in the end by telling scully that it’s her that’s the voice of truth.)

and then in death, diana’s not…there for him to want anything from!! so it’s like, again, yeah he obviously feels the loss, this was someone who meant a lot to him for over a decade. but also it’s likeeeeee freeing in a way? it makes things simpler in a way? (he’s able to communicate all of that to scully instantly after hearing diana is gone, after over a year of the tension hanging around it)

if you asked him about diana now, or even a year later, i think he’d be like…damn that’s crazy! 😭😭 mulder doesn’t have an awful lot of object permanence you guys sjdjsjfj

when scully comes to tell mulder that diana was killed, and he says to her, “you were my friend, and you told me the truth,” the language matters so much. that’s what scully called diana, “i know she was your friend,” and he turns it back onto her. you were my friend. you told me the truth.

in my opinion, it’s not that he doesn’t love and grieve diana, but that there’s a freedom in knowing the truth. knowing who someone is, and their intentions. knowing who has your best interest at heart. knowing where you stand in the world, what you want to do.

that’s really what allows for the openness and lightness of s7, in the wake of diana’s absence. mulder’s always seeking, always learning.

[tennessoui]

i really like your take on padme in mermay au, she is straight up vicious, it somehow suits her better than her canonical persona? i don't know i never saw her as particularly, overly kind in canon, more like someone who definitely cares but is downright manipulative? idk if i'm making sense, long story short, this version of padme scratched an itch in my brain i didn't know i had

i think padme is always fun to write because versions of her can be very complex and when i write her i like to focus on her capacity for anger (in fics where she and anakin are still together when the fic starts) i'm sure that gets a bit tiring to read for people but i just can't see her character just being calm and placid and ok with losing anakin immediately. she seems too fiery in canon, and she seems to love anakin too much to just let him go

and when im writing padmé in canon fics, i want to balance that part of her with her other parts, like her kindness and a sense of justice and empathy ('a more perfect union' padmé for example is all of those things), but i think all those parts are important.

so i've really liked how easy it's been to lean into padmé's viciousness in the mer au!! it's been super fun for me, because one of my favorite parts of writing different aus is playing with how much a character is of a particular trait (ie., how much of a bitch obi-wan is, how much of a brat anakin is, how much of a good jedi is anakin, how much infinite sadness does obi-wan have etc etc) so i've liked dragging padmé's viciousness all the way up to the top of the scale here

she's a mermaid queen who is queen of a vicious and vain society and being queen means different things in this au than it does in star wars canon, a lot of which boils down to never really hearing the word no and maybe being a bit callous and naive because of it. she's also the most mer in the au because anakin was human for 21 years and obi-wan was human for likeee ~15 years (?) but padmé has been mer all her life and would never want to be human - she's fascinated by anakin, but not in the same way obi-wan was by the humans when he first discovered them and i love trying to distinguish that

[another-clive-blog]

I voted to marry the boy, could you write him being incredibly smitten with one Emmy Altava? (I would take any Clemmy really, but Clive MUST be head over heels for her)

SORRY FOR THE DELAY !! My sincerest apologies, this week has been kicking my ass-

This was hard to write, because I'm bad at shipping and also I don't know the first thing about Emmy ? She works with Layton and is gorgeous, that's it :'D I did ask some friends who told me about a camera ?? So I tried to like. Work from there

ANYWAY !! AU where Emmy works at Clive's newspaper as a part-job on top of her adventures with Layton ! She is a photographer and 20-year-old Clive is a writer. Also this is Unwound Future Canon-compliant (kinda ? It works from Clive's perspective). This is teen, comfort no hurt, fluff, and entirely written from clive's POV

Emmy fans I apologize in advance if I didn't do your girl justice, she is gorgeous and I want to get to know her

Clive remembered that fateful day- not the day it had all started, of course, but the day his whole plan had been thrown off the rails.

It was a day just like the others- or rather, it would have been, had his article not been rejected. He had been working at the newspaper for two years now, ever since he'd graduated at age 18 : two years, and not once had one of his articles been refused. All of his work had always been met with approval at worst, congratulations at best- nothing less.

But not this time. The direction hadn't said much about this outrageous event, simply something about his article needing more work, apparently. This usually wouldn't bother Clive : failure was a part of life, and he forgave those poor souls for failing to perceive the greatness of his work.

And yet- this was a problem. Clive had asked to be granted access to informations about the Incident ever since he started working here, and his request had been denied every time. He had to prove his reliability first, they said, show them that he hadn't taken the job just to get his hands on classified files. It was annoying, truly : of course he had, but proving otherwise was tiresome.

But now, with this failure... Was his progress going to fade away ? Could he still hope to get these documents soon ? Or was this the faux pas that would cost him his prize entirely ?

Clive sighed, putting that traitorous piece of paper back on his desk : he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

What should he do now ?

"Well, that's a sad face if I've ever seen one," a voice commented in an extremely helpful way. He didn't recognize it, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to learn his colleagues' voices or names- mostly because they kept coming to annoy him at the worst possible time. Which was all the time.

"Could you please leave me alone for once or is it really too much to ask ?" Clive knew that he didn't sound very pleasant or respectful, but that was literally the last of his problems. Besides, he had isolated his desk from the rest specifically because he didn't want others to come bother him.

"Pretty sure this is the first time we meet. At least, I don't remember seeing you before. Are you new too ?" She replied, and she really wasn't leaving, was she ? Then again, if she was new here, she probably didn't know that he wasn't here to make friends.

He opened his eyes.

The first thing to catch his gaze was the odd yellow dress, a strange outfit to wear in a place like this : she looked like an adventurer, not a journalist. There wasn't any dress code to meet in order to work here, but still...

Then again, she did have a bow tie.

"I've been here for two years," he deadpanned. She seemed nice and that was good for her, really, but he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. "Welcome to the team, I suppose."

She smiled. It wasn't bright like a sun or sweet like chocolate, but it was rather something authentic, that she had worked hard to obtain and preserve. This was the kind of smile that would inspire tons of stories and articles- at least to someone really passionate about this job.

Clive wasn't. He wasn't here to change the world or make friends, he was here to get these classified files that would hopefully help him move on.

"Thank you," she said, before putting one hand on his desk and leaning forward : Clive pushed his chair back a little. "Say, since we're a team now, do you mind telling me why I've never seen you hang out with the others ?"

Oh wow. Alright, no little mind games- just straight to the point.

That really was new.

"Well," Clive muttered, looking away, "I have work to do."

She tilted her head slightly, his answer only making her more curious. "And they don't ?"

Was this some kind of test ? Clive couldn't perceive any ill intentions behind this question, but it didn't sound all that mundane either. What was she at ?

"Of course they do," he explained himself, "But this is important to me, and-" Actually- why was he even telling her that ? She probably didn't care, he didn't care, this whole discussion was useless : he had no reason to keep it going. "And my article just got refused, so I have even more work to do." He said abruptly, hoping to end the conversation.

She didn't go away. "Oh really ? That sucks. Want me to take a look ?" She offered, as if she wasn't new here.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure you can help much," Clive said coldly. He wasn't in the mood for this. "I mean, you're new, and a photographer, so this may not be your-"

"Nonsense !" She put her hands on her hips, the same smile on her face. She had listened to approximately none of his reasoning. Stubborn, Clive thought. Stubborn and very confident.

"I may not write the articles, but I know how they work," she said. "Also, I have learned a thing or two from Layton."

Clive froze. Layton. The professor Layton ? The one who had saved him as a kid, the man who was his model, his inspiration, his-

"Hey, this article is about him !" Quick as a fox, she had leaned over his desk and grabbed the piece of paper : her eyes were done scanning through the first few paragraphs before Clive could even react.

"Wh- where are your manners ?!" He yelled at her, blushing furiously. Alright, that was it-

Pushing his chair back, he quickly made his way around his desk, reaching for his sorry excuse of an article.

She dodged his poor attempt at taking back his sheet of paper with no effort whatsoever. "This is pretty good," she said, talking about the paper rather than his embarrassing fight.

Clive was a clever man- that's why he decided after yet another vain attempt that he couldn't win. Somewhere in his mind, he noted that she had to truly be an adventurer of some kind : she was surprisingly strong, agile and terribly efficient, unbothered by someone like him.

He reluctantly gave up his useless fight, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms instead. "Not good enough, apparently," he spat, glaring at her. She had no shame, no hesitation, no weakness- who even was she ?!

"Yeah, I can see why," she nodded, and Clive was once again baffled by her ability to say honest things without any hard feelings behind it.

"Your article is good, but you forgot the presentation," she explained, stepping closer to better show him : this proximity made Clive agitated, although he wasn't sure why. "You talk like everyone knows Layton, but that's just not true- especially since you're dealing with his first ever adventure. You have to keep everyone in mind, not just the readers who are as knowledgeable about this subject as you are."

Clive choked. "I-I'm not-"

"Hey, I could give you a good photo of Layton !" She interrupted him with a smile. "That way, everyone would know who we're talking about."

"Yeah, about that- do you actually know the professor ?" He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down. She didn't seem like the kind of person the professor would frequent, bow tie or no bow tie.

"Of course !" She said, before her voice took a challenging intonation, "What, wanna bet ?"

Clive scoffed. She was being ridiculous- this was probably all an elaborate plan to make fun of him. He could absolutely picture his colleagues telling her to prank him as some sort of initiation ritual, actually. She certainly was almost as annoying as they all were.

But she may know the professor. "Sure," he finally said. "If you can take this photo and bring it to me, I'll buy you a coffee tomorrow."

"Wow, hey, don't ruin yourself for me Tiger," she sarcastically said. Tiger ??

"Wha-"

"Alright, I'll come tomorrow by your sad and isolated desk to give you the picture," she decided. "I love proving I'm right, almost as much as I love drinking terrible coffees with rude co-workers."

"Are you serious-"

"See you!" She cut him off with a provocative grin, again, and left without listening to another word he had to say, again.

Clive watched her go in silence, furious. Who did she think she was ?! She had been here for what, a couple hours, and she just came up to him like that ? He hoped she had annoyed everyone else too : that way, she'd get fired sooner rather than later.

The thought did make him feel better, and he sat back in his chair, enjoying the calm of the small room where stood his isolated desk. If he focused hard enough, he could hear her laugh with others in the next room- but he couldn't, because he didn't care enough to pay attention.

So since he wasn't listening to the sound of her voice, it was silent. And enjoyable. And lonely- which was good, because he hated having to deal with others. Especially her -what was her name again ? Not that it mattered-, because she was so rude and straight-forward and confident. Really confident.

Nevermind.

He picked up the article, looking at it thoughtfully. He needed this article to be accepted, and he needed it to be his best work yet : it was the only way to prove he was worthy of the reputation he had built for himself, and, most importantly- the only way to get what he wanted, the Truth.

...Presentation, uh ?

-_-_-_-

Surely enough, the very next day, Emmy came back to his desk with a brand new picture.

Professor Layton, sitting at a table, enjoying a nice cup of tea. He was smiling serenely, and his face held a bit of warmth, of comfort, of home.

"There you go !" Emmy said with a very satisfied smile, one that Clive wasn't ready to see this early in the morning.

He took the photo she was handing him. It felt recent and authentic : in fact, he could see yesterday's newspaper on the table, next to Layton's hand. It was crazy. There was no way they actually knew each other.

"Are you a paparazzi ?" He asked before he could stop himself. He shouldn't throw accusations her way in case she really was close to the professor, but what else could it be ?

"What ? No !" Emmy didn't seem to get offended- on the contrary, she stood proudly, hands on her hips. "I'm his associate !"

Oh.

Clive fell silent, his gaze wandering back to the picture. The professor was facing whoever had taken the photography : he was fully aware someone was here, taking this very picture. Had she asked him to smile ? Or was he just that happy to help his associate win a stupid bet and make a name for herself at her new job ?

Why would someone like the professor choose her as an associate ?

"That's odd," Emmy said with feigned naivety. "I recall you being a real Layton fan, and yet you didn't recognize the one and only Emmy Altava, associate of the great professor Layton ? Surely someone as knowledgeable as you should know this. I mean, it'd be pretty humiliating if you didn't, right ?"

He looked up, staring at her, and she stared him down with a provocative smirk, waiting for his answer.

Somehow, he... he wasn't mad. He didn't feel like angrily answering or starting a fight, which was relatively rare : maybe this was due to the fact that he knew she could easily destroy him.

Or maybe this was due to the fact that he really wanted to know what Layton had seen in her, now. "I'm not a Layton fan, and I didn't know he had an associate."

Emmy's smirk disappeared quickly at his admission, replaced with something that was almost disappointment. She hummed, looking at him strangely. "...This is really not as satisfying as you had me believe it would be. I was looking forward to crushing your little ego under my boot."

Alright- forget that. Clive scoffed. "Don't forget I have to buy you a disgusting coffee now, so we're stuck together for a few more painful minutes."

"Ah- I had indeed forgotten about that part," She admitted, scratching the top of her head. All of the antagonizing and taunting was gone, just like that, Clive noticed : how did she move on so quickly ? He never ever missed an opportunity to rightfully put people in their places. But she was already over it ??

Emmy -she did say her name was Emmy, right ? Emmy Altava- shrugged, coming to a decision. "Disgusting coffee is better than no coffee. Lead the way, Tiger."

He groaned. "Stop calling me that."

"Wait," she paused, and he stared at her while waiting for whatever nonsense she was about to spit. "...What is your name ?"

...You know what- that was fair. He hadn't told her, after all. "I'm Clive Dove."

She snapped her fingers, that same confident grin on her lips. "Great. Lead the way, Clivey."

Clive groaned before leaving the room without a word. Emmy followed him with a satisfied grin, very proud and amused by his pointless anger.

Clive walked faster, trying to hide the blush that crept on his face.

-_-_-_-

They didn't interact much after the coffee : in fact, they didn't talk at all for the next few days.

Clive would see her sometimes, or hear her. He heard her a lot : she had a booming voice, full of life and passion. Whenever she talked to another one of their colleagues, Clive would hear her contagious laugh, listen to her stories from the loneliness of his small isolated desk.

She was a great storyteller. Managing her effects, adding plenty of details, adapting to her audience- it felt real. Clive could picture her stories, her adventures at the professor's side.

This was exactly what gave him a new idea, bright like always.

He came across her in the corridor, while she was heading to get herself a coffee. "Oh- Clivey ! It's been some time, hasn't it ?"

He gritted his teeth. This was a bright idea. He only had bright ideas. "Ignoring that first part. I wanted to tell you something."

She didn't seem all that excited, merely eyeing him up and down like they were in a box ring. "What- you want me to prove you wrong again ? Cuz I can do that-"

"No, no," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why was she always so impulsive ? "I wanted to tell you that I submitted my article again, and the direction as well as the audience were really enthusiastic this time."

She seemed to relax, smiling instead. "That's great ! I'm happy for you."

"Also I added your name to it."

She... stopped smiling. In fact, she remained uncharacteristically silent, staring at him as if she was trying to see beyond his calm expression.

It was unsettling- deeply, extremely unsettling. It felt as though she could look at him and see everything he was hiding : his dead parents, his need for answers, his plan to get these files, his... his dead parents. There was nothing else he was hiding.

And yet, he felt his face go red under her scrutinizing gaze. Stupid, embarrassing shame.

"You helped me with the photography and the structure of the article, so it's only fair," he explained in a small voice, crossing his arms. He was not going to look at her. He was not going to meet her gaze and help her find whatever she was looking for. "And that's also why I'm here. I would like to offer you to- to work on a series of articles about the professor."

Clive still refused to watch her reaction, and it took another couple of seconds for Emmy to react : but when she did, she put her hands on her hips, leaning forward with a wide grin. Clive hated when she did that, it made him feel so small compared to her. She was also closer to him, which made him feel really... uncomfortable. And hot. "You want me to work on these ? With you, I suppose ?"

"Obviously," he scoffed, shrugging nonchalantly- or so he tried.

"...Why ?" She sounded concerned- curious too. There was something in her that wasn't sure about this project, and yet there was an even bigger part of her who wanted to get more out of this, to explore all the possibilities.

Clive couldn't care less about possibilities, or colleagues, or success : there was only one success that mattered to him, and it was getting these classified informations.

Which was exactly why he wanted to work with Emmy. Her proximity with Layton and, he'll admit it, her set of skills were perfect to help him reach his own goal. "Because you know a lot about the professor, and your stories are good material. Also, you could provide with pictures and- and presentation advices, I suppose. Probably," he muttered. She was still so close- should he step back ?

No, she would probably get offended. Oh well- he just had to keep standing inches from her, then.

She seemed amused. "I thought you weren't a Layton fan. Why are you asking me to tell you about him ?"

"He's a good inspiration for articles," he said, trying to sound professional- and why was he even trying ? This was professional. It was a professional setting. "Only an idiot would let this opportunity go."

"And you're not an idiot." She thought about it for a minute, before she shrugged : "Why not ! I'm here to create articles, after all. But first I need my coffee." She stretched her back before taking a few steps away, heading for her long-awaited beverage.

Clive felt... almost disappointed to see her leaving, but the unusual joy overcame it easily. She had accepted to work with him, they were gonna be a team- which meant that he was getting closer to achieving his goal. "Wait- want me to buy you a coffee ?"

She chuckled. "Don't ruin yourself for me, Clivey."

He didn't make any comment on the name.

-_-_-_-

Getting to work with Emmy was just delightful. She was as efficient as he was, both straight-forward in their criticism, always looking for ways to improve, listening to the other's suggestions before making up their minds. They made an exceptional team with perfect cohesion and excellent results.

Of course, the direction had noticed it too. Their articles were a hit among the newspaper's audience, even bringing in new customers : everyone was curious about this duo who wrote entertaining articles about some professor. It almost felt like fiction, and people liked to read these improbable stories that stood out from the rest of the usual news coverage.

The audience wanted more, the direction wanted more, and so Emmy and Clive logically decided to make more articles : day after day, week after week, they kept creating more and more stories, to the point that they would spend most of the day together- even the sacred coffee break.

"And that's how we found out that Descole really was behind all of this," Emmy finished her story, taking her cup of coffee in one hand. "I mean, I had my suspicions- but without the professor, I never would have guessed what was truly going on."

Clive nodded, absent-mindedly scribbling a few notes. His own cup had been left completely untouched, his coffee cold by now.

This detail didn't go unnoticed. "Cold coffee won't taste better, you know," Emmy joked.

Clive stopped writing, looking at his cup in silence.

Emmy frowned. "Hey, are you okay ?"

Clive looked at her, then at his notes. They were precise and neatly written at first, like always, before suddenly going... messy. Which was weird, because Clive hated messy.

"I just thought about something," he explained.

"Oh ?" She leaned forward on the table : her curious eyes were scanning Clive's face, waiting for any piece of information. Her coffee was left forgotten- it was disgusting anyway.

Clive brought his own cup to his lips, a poor attempt at hiding the blush on his face- because he was blushing, he knew that.

After all, this was exactly the something he had been thinking about.

It had taken him weeks to realize it. But surely enough, at some point, he had stopped listening to the stories and started listening solely to the voice telling them. He had stopped seeing work as a means to an end and started to look forward to seeing her in the morning, to sharing a coffee with her day after day.

He had even stopped caring about these stupid classified files. He would never stop being curious about the truth, wanting deep down to know what truly went down- but he could also portray his life in a world where he wouldn't get to know. Maybe he could never know, and still be okay, as long as he had another source of motivation.

Emmy. His work with her- scratch that. Just Emmy. He knew it was her and not these pointless articles : even the professor, his childhood hero, seemed to pale in comparison to her, recently.

He had wondered why the professor had made her his associate : now he knew, maybe even more than Layton himself.

"I was just- just thinking," he said, before taking a sip of coffee. It was cold, and bitter, and frankly disgusting : this newspaper should be able to afford better coffees, especially with all the records in sells recently. But this disgusting coffee allowed him to share a moment with Emmy, so maybe it was a bit okay. "About stuff."

"Very specific," Emmy mocked him, "Come on, spit it out !"

Oh, there was no way he was telling her. Admitting it -partly- to himself was already a big enough challenge. "I was- well, I was wondering if the professor was okay with us writing about his life."

Emmy rose an eyebrow, settling back in her chair. It really was just a game of getting closer and away, wasn't it ? "The professor doesn't mind. He is flattered someone is that invested in his adventures. He said he'd like to meet you, one day," Emmy simply answered, looking at him funny. There it was, that scrutinizing gaze that was looking for secrets, trying to uncover everything he wasn't saying- "But really, Clivey, we've been doing that for weeks. You only wonder about that now ?"

"I guess I didn't want this to stop, in case he was bothered," he simply said.

If Emmy noticed the way he passed up the opportunity to meet Layton himself, she didn't say a thing. "Ah, right. You're not an idiot, and you're not passing up any opportunities."

"Exactly," Clive said. He wasn't blushing anymore, so he put his coffee down- it was really too disgusting, anyway.

Emmy nodded. "We have enough for our next article. We should get back to work- you know, so you keep getting opportunities." She said this with a touch of humor, and Clive chuckled at it. It wasn't even that funny, but she had a way of making him happy that only worked with her : another colleague would have him rolling his eyes and spitting a distateful comment.

"Alright- I just need to go back to my desk first," he said, standing up and gathering his stuff.

In a fraction of second, Emmy was next to him. "Go get it, Tiger," she gently punched him in the shoulder. Uh, it'd been some time since she used that one.

"And Clive ?" She added. "I'm glad we took this opportunity. Together." And with that, she winked at him.

Clive stared dumbly at her, her words taking a minute to register : when they did however, he felt his whole face heating up in a way he couldn't possibly hide.

"I- uh- I mean-" He stuttered like an idiot, unable to form any thought. What did she mean by that ? Was this a friendly remark ? Or did she- did she also-

Was she also in love with him ? Because he was in love, madly. And maybe he hoped she was too.

He didn't know what miracle happened, but she left without any comments and he remained alone, his stuff in his hands and his heartbeat racing. He must look pathetic, being so red in the face and trembling because of a single remark. He was weak, weak for her, and what was left to be done ?

Luckily -a second miracle-, he didn't see any colleagues as he rushed back to his desk : if any of them had seen him like this, a trembling blushing mess, he probably would have no choice but to kill them.

Putting his stuff on one side of the desk, he himself dropped onto his chair, palms pressed against his face. Even now, even with his eyes closed, he could still see her beautiful smile, the way she winked at him-

No. No no no- he had to stop imagining stuff. There was no way she saw him as more than a colleague -a friend, maybe, emphasis on the maybe- and he would ruin everything if he couldn't respect her feelings on the matter. He didn't- he didn't actually need to- to date her- dating her, he was thinking about dating her and it sounded so wonderful, everything he could ask for, and-

No ! No, alright ? She wasn't interested, and he respected that. And he didn't need to date her, just getting to talk to her, to see her being so vibrant and passionate and confident, a real force of nature- just that was enough. He didn't need more.

He was happy with just getting to see her.

He dropped his hands, taking a deep breath. His heartbeat was still a bit fast, but it was returning to normal : even the red on his face was gone. It was alright. He would be alright, as long as he could keep things as they were.

And if he wasn't entirely satisfied with the way things were, if he kept longing for more, then it was his problem.

He opened his eyes, only to notice a white envelope on the middle of his desk. It... hadn't been there before. Who had put this here ?

Curious if not wary, he got closer and took the sheet of paper, turning it around in his hand.

On the front, he could read "Access to classified files granted"

[transannabeth]

hi. for people who saw gatsby: an american myth. do you remember mckee asking nick for lunch. and then gatsby in like the next scene inviting nick for lunch. because i remember.

[widevibratobitch]

moments like this when im really glad im a sad little cynic who always considers the worst possible outcome and never lets herself truly get comfortable and trust the good things in her life to stay there and builds her life around trying to soften the blows of the eventual disappointments just waiting around the corner lol never leaving my edgy teenager era peace and love

[snowfea]

Before my parents left for three years, leaving me alone in France when I had just turned eighteen, I felt like they didn't listen to me, didn't really understand when I told them I was in pain (which, also, if the pain was there before they left, that is chronic pain indeed).

Tonight my mom cleaned my kitchen for me, because at lunch I told her I wanted to do it, needed to do it, but physically couldn't, as my hands, back, legs, and everything, were acting up.

She just started doing it without saying a word, just asking if I had more dishsoap.

[heartyearning]

dating when autistic is like taking a quiz and whenever you’re about to ask a really really easy question it’s like jumping up and down in your seat going “oh! oh! i know this one!”

[jankwritten]

first psychiatry appointment done. feeling....weird about it.

(venting in the tags. cw for what might be transphobia but i'm not entirely sure lmao)