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resident-gay-bitch · 3 months

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Regulus’ heart breaks as he stands there, just behind the willow tree, watching James and Sirius roll around on the grass, play fighting in their own little world.

Of course he left him. Of course James would pick Sirius over Regulus, wouldn’t everyone? Regulus has never been picked first. Not once.

Not by his parents, who ignored him throughout his entire childhood to focus on framing Sirius as the perfect son and heir.

Not by Sirius, who ran away, picking James to be his brother and not bothering to ask Regulus to tag along.

Not in team games, where students would pick through the class one by one, and Regulus would be one of the last few standing.

Not by his friends, who all would chose their partners, or the other people in the group first. He joined last, it’s only fair.

Not even by the lizard who inhabits his dorm room, who picks the three other boys to crawl over to first, every time.

And certainly not by James.

He thought, for once, the cycle might be broken. He thought, for once, someone would pick him first. He’d get chosen over someone else, just once.

He should have known better.

He should have known that the moment Sirius found out about he and James sneaking around in dark corridors and whispering sweet words to each other, James would have to pick.

He was foolish to think James would pick him over Sirius. He was foolish to think that James would pick him over anyone.

And as Lily, with her fiery red hair pulled back into braids, comes marching over to the boys, snatching James up by his collar and earning herself a cheek kiss, Regulus realises he should have seen that coming too.

Not even two weeks has passed since Regulus placed second to his brother, as he does in fucking everything, and James has already moved on.

Regulus would never be anyone’s first choice, he should have known better.

He knows better now.

It’s not until three months later that Regulus finally shatters from it. The crushing weight of never being enough, never being someone’s first choice.

It’s Slytherin against Ravenclaw for the quidditch cup, and there in the crowd, he spots his brother and James.

They’re decked out in silver and blue, and they don’t look at Regulus, not even once.

Barty finds him in the showers, once the entire teams cleared out. He’s dressed in a confusing mix of blue and green, for his own house and his friends.

Hes crying. Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever cried this hard before. The water is pouring down over his head, and he’s still fully dressed in his uniform.

Slytherin lost. He lost them the match, because he was more focused on trying to catch James or Sirius looking his way just once than getting the snitch. They didn’t, and he lost.

Barty clearly doesn’t know how to handle this. The lowest he’s ever seen Regulus would have been prior to an exam he stressed himself out about. Besides, Barty has always been a little awkward when handling emotions.

Regulus tries to tell him to leave him be, he really does. But his words get all chocked up in his throat and he can’t get out much more than a wail or a sob. It fucking hurts.

“What’s the matter, Black?” Barty asks, switching the water off before crouching down in front of him, “What’s got your knickers in a twist, hey?”

“I-I’ll never be… good enough.” Regulus confesses. He’s never said it out loud before. He’s not a vulnerable person, he doesn’t do this. He knows better than to let out his sob story to someone, they can hold it over him one day. But he can’t help himself, he finds. He needs to get it off his chest before it rips him open, “I’ll never… b-be enough.”

Barty’s silent for a while, clearly unsure of what to say. It only makes Regulus sob more. He pulls his knees up to his chest and hides his head in his hand, and he fucking cries. He’s sure if anyone’s still out side, they’d hear it, but Barty locked the door when he came in. At least that’s something.

“I can never be enough.” Regulus sobs again, and this time Barty kicks into action.

He’s still awkward about it, Regulus can tell, he probably has better things to do than listen to Regulus cry as well, which only makes this worse. He pushes Regulus’ sopping hair out of his face and pats his face dry with the end of his Slytherin scarf before hauling them both to their feet.

“Who told ya that?” Barty asks, pulling his wand out to try his hand at a drying spell. It mostly works, so Regulus can’t complain.

“I don’t have to be told something to know it, Barty.” Regulus sniffles, wiping his eyes. They sting, and he knows he looks terrible, but there’s no use in worrying about that now.

“Well… I think, if you haven’t been told, it can’t be true.” Barty shrugs, tucking his wand back in his pocket.

“Fine.” Regulus nods, “My entire fucking family has told me then, on several occasions.”

“Oh.” Barty stills, and he has a look on his face of utter confusion.

Regulus shakes his head and goes to walk for the door, but he winces when he puts pressure on his ankle. He fell on it weirdly, midway through the match when he was knocked off his broom. It didn’t bother him before, but it does now.

“You hurt?” Barty asks, and Regulus nods.

Silently, Barty reaches out and wraps his arm around Regulus’ waist. He flinches at first, startled by the slightly intimate touch, but then Barty pulls Regulus to shift his weight, and he relaxes into it a little. Together, they walk back across the field, Barty carrying Regulus’ broom, and half of Regulus’ weight, and make their way back to the castle.

It’s oddly silent.

It’s always quiet, between them. Regulus isn’t much of a talker, and when Barty runs out of stupid things to say he goes quiet and people watches. He usually watches Regulus, since they’re always together, something that took a while to get used to. Barty really likes to watch Regulus read, it makes him a little self conscious of any strange expressions he might be making.

But it’s a strange sort of quiet now. It’s silent. Regulus isn’t talking, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he feels ashamed for breaking down like that. He doesn’t just break down. Men don’t fucking break down. Especially not in front of people like that. He feels embarrassed that Barty found him.

Well, he’s grateful it was Barty over anyone else, seeing as though they’re supposed to be close friends, Merlin forbid Sirius found him. But it’s still uncomfortable.

The only friend any of them have that likes to talk about feelings is Pandora. Regulus assumed this was because she was a girl, at first, however, Dorcas doesn’t like talking about them either. Pandoras just strange like that, she cares about people in odd ways. Sometimes it’s nice, but mostly it’s terrifying.

Barty looks like he wants to talk. He also looks like he wants to watch Regulus, but every time he turns his head to do so he probably sees the red rimming of Regulus’ eyes and finds something much uglier than usual. It only makes Regulus feel all the more ashamed.

Barty starts whistling. It’s not his regular noise filling whistles either, it’s his uncomfortable whistling. He doesn’t want to be here, Regulus can tell. Merlin, he needs to get away.

“Going back to your dorm?” Barty asks as they round a corridor in the castle.

Regulus nods, “Is Evan-“

“He’s there.” Barty says, “Cas too… dunno about Dora, she’s always off with the fairies. If she’s not hugging Dorcas about their loss then I dunno where she is.”

Regulus goes tense, “I don’t want them to see me.”

Barty stops and swallows, “Okay… how about my dorm then? My roommates are all down by the lake. They snagged some firewhisky.”

“Okay.” Regulus agrees, because he has no where else to go.

Once settled in Barty’s dorm, Regulus changes into more comfortable clothes. Plaid pyjama pants and a green knitted sweater he knows is his own that went “missing” last year. He doesn’t question it, Barty’s strange like that. He likes to collect things, and especially Regulus’ things.

They’re both sitting on his bed, Regulus tucked up under the covers and Barty sitting on the other end. He’s flipping through one of his dorm mates magazines and whistling to himself, his regular whistling again. It calms Regulus a bit.

Lying there, stuck with his own thoughts, he can’t hide from the images that pop into his mind every time he closes his eyes. All of Sirius and James, all of them examples where Regulus placed last.

There’s so many it’s hard to filter out which ones are new and which ones are old.

They all hurt just the same.

“Whatcha crying about now?” Barty asks, looking over at Regulus. He didn’t even realise he was crying again, but he is. “Did I do something wrong? I’ll fix it, whatever. Get ya whatever you need, promise.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Regulus sniffles, rolling onto his back to look up at the ceiling. Barty’s stuck posters up there, muggle ones of girls on motorcycles and punk bands, just to piss off his dad. “I’m just…”

“Go on.” Barty asks, sitting up now, cross legged and attentive. “There’s no one here, just me. Promise I’ll never tell.”

Regulus sighs and fiddles with his fingers, “I don’t need your pity, Barty. I’ve survived this long, I can survive some more.”

“Yeah, but you’re crying.” He says, and Regulus glares at him. “What? I ain’t seen you cry before, it’s weird. I know it’s really gotta be botherin ya if you’re crying like this. What would Dora say?”

“She’d probably try to hug me and make me cry more.” Regulus offers.

“Do you want… me to- uhm, hug you?”

“No.” Regulus glares at him. “I don’t want your pity, I said.”

“It’s not my pity, Regulus!” Barty splutters, “It’s a bloody hug. Dora says there really good for ya! I love her hugs, you know. Get ‘em all the time. I- I know I’m no Pandora but… I mean, I can offer ya a real bony one.”

Regulus snickers and looks back up at the roof, “No thanks. That’s weird.”

“Is it?” Barty asks, “Cause… cause I’ve been listening to what she’s sayin and… I think it would be nice.”

“If I hugged you right now?” Regulus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah… and other times.” Barty shrugged, “I dunno, might be dumb but… we’re supposed to be friends, ya know? Friends hug. Cas hates ‘em, unless they’re from Dora, but Evan and I hug sometimes.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m not trying to.” Barty frowned, “I just… I care about you, I suppose.”

Regulus swallowed. The only person who’s said that before has been Pandora, but she cares about everyone.

Barty… well, he doesn’t care about much at all. He cares about so little, that Regulus thought the only thing he probably cared about was pissing off his dad and Pandora herself. But apparently that’s not true.

Regulus doesn’t want to believe it. He doesn’t want to hurt himself by believing that he could be one of the very few things Barty has come to care about.

But they’re friends, and Barty watches him a lot, and collects Regulus’ things, and helps him when he cries, and offers to hug him.

Now Regulus is crying for a whole other reason.

“One hug?” Barty offers, sticking out his arms, “I’ll make it so quick and if you hate it we don’t ever have to do it again.”

Regulus contemplates it. He doesn’t remember the last time he was hugged.

He knows the last good one was Pandora, maybe last year, when they were leaving for summer. Quick and carefree. The last bad one, that was James. Not that it was bad at the time, but it hurts to think about now. It was false stability and ended in heartbreak. The last time he was hugged to be soothed though? His mind takes him back to Sirius, when they were still little.

“Fine.” Regulus mutters, sitting up under the covers, “But make it quick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Barty nods and moves in, “Sorry if I’m uncomfortable.”

Regulus nods and sits very still as Barty wraps himself around Regulus’ shoulders. It’s awkward, to say the least. They’ve never done this before, and they’re going about it very strangely.

“Reg… you gotta relax a bit.”

“How am I supposed to relax when I have a boney man attached to me?”

Barty scoffs and squeezes him a little tighter, “Just put your head on my shoulder, orrite. Relax, just for a second.”

Regulus huffs but does it anyway. He leans his head over to rest on Barty’ shoulder and drops his own, and… oh, it’s nice. It’s actually really, really nice. Barty’s soothing his back, and twisting his finger around the end of Regulus’ hair. And it’s nice.

He can’t even feel Barty’s ribs poking him or anything. It’s really, really cosy.

Regulus pushes him away, wiping his tears.

Barty gives him a guilty smile, “Terrible?”

“No.” Regulus sniffles, “It was actually grossly nice.”

Barty snickers and nods his head, “Well, if you ever need another hug, I’ll give ya as many as ya kneed.”

“Thanks.”

“No problems, Black.”

Regulus fiddles with the ends of his sleeve, refusing to look up at Barty, who he knows is sitting there and staring. He’s so quiet, when he stares. It’s as if any noise Barty makes would ruin his ability to set his full attention solely on Regulus.

It’s so strange. He’s so strange.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Regulus mumbles.

“What, that we hugged?” Barty laughs.

“No.” He scoffs, “What I said before, wanker. In the showers.”

“Oh.” Barty nods, “Well, I wasn’t gonna anyway. Course not, Reg. I know you. I know you hate people knowing your business.”

Regulus nods, “You really wouldn’t have told anyone? Not even Dora?”

“Cross my heart.” Barty smiles, doing just that, “I know she’s my best friend, but you are too. It means something, you know?”

“Oh.” Regulus mumbles.

Barty can only laugh at him, and Regulus turns a little pink.

“Can I… no, don’t worry about it.”

“No, go on.” Barty offers, “It’s just you and me.”

Regulus sighs, “I just… I’m tired of not being good enough, Barty.”

“I dunno what you mean, Black. You’re bloody brilliant.” Barty says, flopping down on his back like a starfish, “You shoulda been in Ravenclaw with your smarts, and not to mention your skills as a seeker. You’re top of the class, Reggie, course you’re good enough.”

Regulus thinks Barty will never understand how much that singular sentence fucking means to him, even if he tries to explain it. It stings, how good it feels to hear it. He never has. Not once.

“Not just in school, Barty. Everywhere else.” Regulus mumbles, wiping his teary eyes. They’re stinging again, and he really doesn’t want to cry, but he knows he will. It’s so stupid. “Everything else. I’m just…”

Barty rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow to look at Regulus, “Like, with your family?”

Regulus nods, chewing on a hangnail.

“Yeah, I get that.” Barty sighs, “Is this about… those who must not be named?”

Regulus closes his eyes to compose himself, and nods again.

“Right.” Barty says, “Did Sirius do something? You know he barked at me the other day, like a fucking dog. So I’ll go hex him, happily, if you want?”

“No, Barty. Don’t.” Regulus shook his head, “He didn’t… I… they both just…”

“Go on.” Barty said softly, softer than Regulus has ever heard him speak before as he slowly sits up to get level with him.

“I’ll always be second best.” Regulus mutters, and then he starts crying again. Hot tears down his cheeks, redness in his eyes, stuttering over himself as he shakes.

“Oh, Reg…”

“He- he just picked James, over his own blood brother. Every time it’s James and… and I… and James just… I loved him. I loved him Barty, I was in love with him. I think part of me still is, but… he, he picked Sirius too. He picked Sirius, and Lily, because she’s just… she’s so pretty, and smart, and she’s got everything that I’ve got but, she’s just… she’s just so much better.” Regulus heaved, pressing a hand to his chest, “Everywhere, I see it everywhere. Not just with them, but mostly, I- I’ll never… I’ve never been someone’s first choice, Barty. Ever. And I don’t think I ever will be. No one picks me just because they can.”

His shoulders shake as he cries, his breath short and stuttered. When Barty reaches out in offer for another hug, Regulus falls forward into his arms, head pressed against his friends chest.

It feels so safe there, to be cradled in Barty’s arms, it’s warm. He cries a puddle through his sweater, but Barty doesn’t seem to mind.

“Shh, Reggie.” Barry sooths, lightly scratching his nails over Regulus’ back and sifting his fingers through his hair. “Just breathe, love. Just breathe.”

Regulus follows his command, taking deep breaths and timing them with the rise and fall of Barty’s chest beneath his head. He relaxes there, letting his eyes fall shut, and Barty continues to rub his back and play with his hair.

“I’m so tired.” Regulus mumbles through the last of his tears, “I’m going to fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“That’s okay.” Barty laughs softly, “How about we lie down?”

“Isn’t that weird?” Regulus asks.

“Isn’t everything I do weird?”

Regulus shrugs and follows when Barty pulls him down to lay against the pillows. Barty slips under the covers with him, and pulls Regulus’ head against his chest again. Bartys heart is beating faster than it should be, but Regulus ignores it and wiggles around until he’s comfortable.

Once again, Barty strokes his back and scratches his scalp, and folds himself into Regulus a little.

He presses a little kiss to the top of Regulus’ head, and his heartbeat speeds up rapidly.

Regulus tenses, “Why is your heart beating like that, Barty? Are you okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?” He questions, already coming up with a million terrible reasons for it. He’s been so stupidly selfish about his own problems he didn’t even notice how uncomfortable he’s made his supposed best friend.

“No…” Barty half follows as Regulus sits up, leaning back on his elbows, “No, Reg. Obviously not.”

Regulus’ shoulders relax a little, “Well, then what is it?”

Barty looks away, “Come on, don’t tease, Reggie. I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not teasing.” He shakes his head, “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, obviously.” Barty snickers, “Come on, we can just… we can forget about it by tomorrow if it’s weird.

“What’s weird, Crouch?” Regulus pressed, “I don’t understand.”

Barty looked at him for a moment, eyebrows drawn together in the middle, and his mouth slowly fell open, “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Regulus asked.

“About me…”

“About you… what?” Regulus shook his head.

“About…” Barty sighed, shaking his head in delirium. He laughed, at himself, mostly, which only confused Regulus more, “Everyone said it was obvious. I just thought we both… I thought we had an understanding. That we’d both ignore it and go on with our lives.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Barty?” Regulus asked, shoving at his chest.

“Oi!” Barty snickered, “That I… well… I thought you knew you’d be my first choice for everything.”

Regulus froze, scowling at him for a moment, “Don’t tease-“

“Not teasing, Reggie.” Barty looked away, taking a short breath. “Look, if it’s… if it’s too weird, I get it. But, I’m okay pretending, if you want.”

“P-pretending?” Regulus whispered.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, sitting up and loosely hugging his knees, “Pretending I’m not in love with you.”

Regulus didn’t have an answer for that. He was truely wound speechless. Barty… loves him?

“I meant it… I’d pick- I’d pick you over everything else in this world. I really mean it, Reggie. I promise.” Barty mumbled, “You’re my first pick, always have been.”

Regulus’ heart stops in his chest for a moment. His throat hurts and his eyes sting again. Regulus doesn’t think he’s cried as much as he has today through his entire life, including when he was a baby.

He can’t help it, crying again. Because Regulus believes him. Barty’s always been devastatingly honest, even at the worst of times. So why would he lie about this? And he looks so earnest, sounds it too. He sounds like he really, truely means it.

No ones ever picked Regulus first, besides Barty Crouch Jr, who has a collection of Regulus’ things, and who stares at him unashamedly, and consoles Regulus when he cries even if it makes him uncomfortable.

And Regulus has been too self centred to ever notice.

But Barty is in love with him, and by the sounds of it he has been for a while. Apparently everyone knows it.

He thinks about it for a moment, while he sobs and cries and heaves. Barty does all that he can to soothe him, reaching out to wipe away tears, and hold him, and rub his arms and back.

Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever felt as safe as he doesn’t when he’s around Barty. Which is an odd thing to realise, because Barty is kind of a loose cannon. He’s violent, and angry, and snarky and rude. But with Regulus he’s always… well, he’s funny, and he can still be a little rude sometimes, but he’s also kind and generous and a little odd.

Regulus now realises all that oddness he’s noticed is just things Barty does that signals he’s in love with him. But Regulus has never noticed, he’s never looked to see how Barty doesn’t do all these very things with other people.

He’s Barty’s first choice.

And now that he thinks of it, Barty might just be his.

He’s the only person Regulus trusts to see him like this. Not even Pandora could, as much as he loves her. Regulus just hates being vulnerable. But he supposed it’s a little different with Barty, because he’s always been a little vulnerable with Regulus.

It’s comforting, to say the least, to have confirmation that he’s wanted. That he’s cared for. That he’s somebodies first choice.

And Barty loves him, which is strange. He’s never looked at Barty in that way before. And sure, Barty makes plenty of jokes about finding Regulus fit and wanting to snog him and so on and so forth, but he’s never thought too deeply about it.

He does that with other people, doesn’t he?

Now that Regulus thinks about it, he definitely doesn’t do it as much as he does it to Regulus.

Barty pulls away, rubbing up and down Regulus’ biceps, as he gives a nervous smile. It’s crooked, like most of Barty’s smiles, but this time Regulus really notices it.

“I’m sorry if it’s weird, I dunno what to do, Reggie.” Barty tries, “How do I stop you crying?”

Regulus sniffled and blinked his tears away slowly, refusing to cry anymore. His cheeks are all wet and sticky, and his eyes fucking ache, as well as his throat, but he’s not thinking about that.

“Do you really mean that?” Regulus sniffles, and he blinks away a few more tears, “Me being your first choice?”

“Of course, why would I lie about that, Reg. It clearly means a lot to you- I just… I thought you knew.”

Regulus scrunches up his nose, “Well, why would I cry about how I’m no one’s first choice if I knew I was yours?”

Barty’s quiet for a moment. He retracts his hands and ducks his head to mumble, “I just thought… well I thought I didn’t really matter, at the end of it all.” He shrugged, “I’d do anything for you- I already have, you know, and… I just… I thought you knew. And I thought it didn’t matter to you because… well, I’m the same, I suppose. I don’t think anyone’s picked me first either.”

“You still… even thinking that I just- I just didn’t care about you, or your feelings or… or anything at all, you still…” Regulus scrunched up his nose, ducking his head to catch Barty’s eye, “You still would have picked me first?”

Barty nodded, “Done anything for you.”

“Oh.” Regulus whispered, shaking his head, “Barty…”

“Yeah?” Barty asked, swallowing a large lump in his throat.

Regulus kisses him. No thoughts, no warnings, no nothing at all. He just leans forward and kisses him right on the mouth.

Barty pulls away first, almost immediately, wide eyed and startled, “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“I don’t know.” Regulus muttered, touching his lips, “You just… I… you love me, and… fuck, Barty. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” Barty nodded, there’s water in his eyes now, and Regulus can tell he’s trying to hold it back, “And you just kissed me. Please don’t- don’t do that. I’m… I can’t handle that, Reg. I can handle us being friends, even though it’s driving me mad, but… I just- I can’t-“

“Well, don’t you want to be more?”

“Fucking hell, Regulus.” Barty leers back.

“What?” Regulus scoffs.

“You can’t just fucking… don’t say that.” He shakes his head, taking a moment to compose himself, “Don’t be stupid, orrite. I can’t fucking… I love you, Reggie. I can’t handle… possibilities because I’m just… I’m gonna drive myself crazy thinking about them. And that’s not good.”

“I’ve never had someone love me before, Barty.” Regulus whispers, “I’ve never had someone… I want- I want to chose you too. You’re my best friend, and I already do choose you. But I want to do it more. I want to… please?”

“I don’t understand, Reg.” Barty whispered back.

Regulus took his hand, smoothing his fingers over Barty’s rigid knuckles. They’re rough and scarred, just as they always are. Just as Regulus knows them to be.

“I don’t really either, Barty.” He admits, “I never knew you felt that way, and I’ve never thought about it- you- us. I’ve never thought about us like that before, but I… I can picture it.”

Barty closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Barty. I don’t want to lead you on. I want to try. Don’t you want to try?”

Barty keeps his eyes sealed shut and he shakes his head no, “What happens when you get bored of me? What- what happens when Potter comes crawling back to you? What happens when you realise I’m fucking… more insane than you thought? I’d- don’t tempt me, Regulus, because I meant what I said, I’d do anything for you.” Barty’s breath trembles, “I’d kill him, I’d kill them both. I’d kill all of them, just to make you happy. So you never feel like a second choice to them ever again- I- I mean it, Regulus.”

“I know.” Regulus breaths, and it scares him, what Barty’s saying, because he does know. It’s not just words. But those words aren’t the part that scare him, it’s the fact that he likes it that does. It makes him want. “I know, Barty. And I know that if I hurt you, truly, truly hurt you like this, you’d make my life a living hell. I know.”

“What about Potter?” Barty asks, trying to mask tears of his own, “Don’t you love him?”

“Maybe.” Regulus admits, regretfully so, “But I don’t want to. He’d never… he could never love me the way you could anyway. The way that I need.”

“And how do you need it?”

“To be your first choice.” Regulus whispered, “How do you need it, Barty?”

Barty took a deep breath, thinking about it for a moment. He looked up at Regulus with a pout and hopeful eyes, “I just want to be good enough for love before anything else.”

Regulus smiles, “You are.”

Barty shakes his head.

“You are.” Regulus confirms, “To me, you are.”

Barty sniffles, “Do you love me… like that?”

Regulus sighs, “N… no.” He scolds himself for the truth, because it seems to shatter Barty’s heart to pieces. “But I want to, Barty… I want to love you the way you do me. And I think I will. You just have to let me.”

“Really?” Barty sobs.

Regulus nods, “Will you let me?”

Barty nods and leans back in, and Regulus kisses him again. They both had wet cheeks, and headaches, and heartaches from crying, but they kiss anyway. And Regulus cries again, for hopefully the last time, because Barty kisses like he never wants to stop.

Regulus has never been kissed like that before.

Regulus has never been loved before.

He thinks with Barty, he might just be enough.

★ ★ ★

Bartylus shippers unite.

This one’s so angsty I’m sorry but I can’t help it and yerr Reggie kinda has misogynistic views which is gross but it’s the fucking 70’s and look at his parents. I USUALLY write them all to be better than that and not arseholes but I wanted to make this one hurt.

Also I don’t think I’ve written from Reggie’s pov before sooooo that was interesting.

Idk I liked this. Let me know your thoughts :)

Read here on ao3

If you want to read more of my stuff you can find it all here :))

Tagging everyone that expressed interest in the angsty bartylus one shot lmao: @lapassemirroir @mayflywrites @garlicbread4ever @moonyluv-s @managingmischeif @stxr-bxy @the-lionsheart @crimsonlovebartylus

#bartylus #regulus black #barty crouch jr #using Jegulus as a plot point for bartylus 😬🤭👀🤷#Reggie has so many big feelings but he’s never got to express them before the poor baby #it’s okay. Barty’s here to save the day #also Barty is a Ravenclaw. and so skinny it’s concerning. he’s trying to defy his dad by being the opposite of the big man he wants him 2 b #Barty is also awkward. not good at emotions but feels them so violently anyway. Barty is also a loose fucking cannon.#barty thinks he doesn’t matter when he actually matters to regulus most of all. they both just didn’t know it yet #and then they kiss and get married and have lots of babies #pandora my beloved and lily both get honerable mentions of being wonderful wonderful women. even though Reggie hates Lily he still thinks #she’s amazing #marauders #slytherin skittles #prev Jegulus #barty x regulus #fluff at the end #angst #kinda Jegulus slander #fluff if you squint #so much angst #dead gay wizards #dead gay wizards from the 70s #RAB #Barty jr #Reggie

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edenfire · 14 days

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marcille: WOAH😳😳💘

I like big monster lady, what can I say

the colors and added sparkles for this piece were inspired by hellajimmies on twt🌟✨️

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enidtendo64 · 9 months

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Hiiiiii, is there anything you can tell us about Nini’s doll and its significance? (Apologies if you’ve already answered similar questions)

The doll is named Valentina, and she's Nini's best friend! Funny, they kinda look alike huh?

#I am SOOOOOO glad you asked this specific question!!!#I was so excited that I think I entered a fugue state and just powered this fully colored comic??? idk what happened I blacked out #anyways please look carefully at the last panel and the implications 👀#the less enigmatic explanation: Goody Addams is definitely somewhere in the vicinity #introducing (again) the roommate Bryony! she’s a junior who ends up being Nini’s Watson and big sister figure #shift1s #asks #my art #wenclair kids #Persephone Addams #Bryony Godwin #Goody Addams

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fizzytoo · 9 months

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made a bottoms (movie)/“fight club” inspired oc :D —leah dawn (she/her, 21, physics major) joined her university's "secret" self-defense (fight) club to impress girls and get pussy 😞

#ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 cas #show us your sims #*fizzysims #oc: leah dawn #bc apparently she's not getting any bitches in the physics department #and everybody thinks she's straight 😞#she can’t fight either 😞 she gets her ass tore up takes silly little selfies then guilts her friends into taking her for ice cream #not too much on my girl’s big ass forehead ✊🏽#idk when im gonna see the bottoms movie so idk the dynamics of the fight club so dont come for me for including random ass details 🫵🏽#i just wanted an excuse to make a lesbian oc that’s in a fight club but doesn’t look like she’s in a fight club #y’all think she’s getting pussy? LMAOAJSJSHSH #we need more people in this fight club :D hint hint wink wink #i already have some more ideas for different members maybe antagonists 👀 (enemies to lovers 👀)#anyway this was fun. i’m not rlly sure about the white cas bg WHEW bright as hell and not great for white clothes swatches #ik the bottoms movie is set in a high school but i’m not doing that 💀 i’m grown #blood #cw blood

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pyotrkochetkov · 2 months

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🧃🧃🧃

#martin necas #martin nečas #carolina hurricanes #myedits #she gives us such good boyfriend content #he looks so big here 👀

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butmakeitgayblog · 1 year

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Alycia promo for Saint X

#I'm gonna yeet myself into the sun #it's so nice to see her doing promos where she doesn't look dead inside 🥰#I'm talking about you ftwd 😒#look at those big beautiful GREY eyes ugh #missed that lik kangaroo🥹🥹🥹#i wanna lick her chest 👀#or something more normal like just rest my cheeky cheek on it #maybe nibble the collarbone bUT THAT'S IT #and twirl the curls around my finger k bye #alycia debnam carey

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good-beanswrites · 4 months

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hii hiii is it alright if I request something with kotoko and haruka?(platonic ofc) their character foils drive me insane with all the weak stuff authngghn icant be normal about them

Oooh thank you so much for the request! I realized that these two actually have one of the smallest windows to talk easily, given Haruka's nervousness and Kotoko's T2 changes. They have such interesting approaches to strength/weakness, and I hope I could capture it a bit here! This takes place immediately following Kotoko's bday timeline after Harrow's release:

“I’ll accept those birthday wishes…” Kotoko gave him a wave over her shoulder as she returned to making her bed.

She shook her head in awe. It was rather impressive how quickly the boy had changed after his verdict. The others had more subtle differences, but he was someone entirely new. She could rest easy, at least, knowing that her verdict wouldn’t change her much. For as long as she could remember, she’d been like this. She knew where she stood, and neither guilty nor innocent verdict would affect that. This verdict was really only an indicator on whether the warden could be trusted or not.

Her body tensed up when she turned back around, startled by Haruka lingering silently in the doorway. She decided against chastising him for scaring her half to death. Still, she couldn’t keep the bite from her voice as she asked, “did you need something else?”

“Ah… I just…” He twisted his hands together. “I had a question.”

He fell silent, but Kotoko could tell he was chewing on his next words. She waited.

“H-how do you do it? All the time? You’re older and stronger and braver and I-I just don’t know how.”

“Give yourself some credit. I’m not that much older, or stronger. I only have, what -- two, three years on you? And you did very well in the arm wrestling tournament the other day.”

She wasn’t being patronizing. For someone so sheltered, Haruka could do some damage. He stood a few inches taller than her. The others had taken the arm wrestling as a little game, but Kotoko had used the event to measure up her fellow prisoners. After his close match with Mikoto, she had made a mental note to take him seriously.

“No…” his expression twitched, getting frustrated with the misunderstanding. “Not muscles. I mean… you don’t have someone like Muu. You don’t need someone next to you all the time. But you still talk with everyone… and it looks easy. All the time. You always know what to say, and what to do. You never look scared. You never cry.”

Kotoko’s smile softened. She wasn’t the prideful type, but his words gave her a wave of accomplishment. She certainly was scared. She did cry. But she wasn’t about to show a single crack in her resolve in front of anyone here. Haruka had given her the greatest of compliments by confirming her success.

“Ah, you mean strength of spirit. Well, that doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. It comes with my purpose, with my virtues.”

“Virtues…?”

“I see the injustice around me, and want to protect the innocent. When I see how awful the world can be, when I see the monsters that are hurting those who are weak, I can’t help myself.” She clenched her fist. “The power to do so just comes to me.”

“Oh…” Haruka looked down at his palms.

Her heart sank, realizing he didn’t quite understand. It was a shame that not all of humanity could be as righteous as her. That heroic drive had always come so naturally to her; she wasn’t sure she could put it into words to explain to others.

Haruka’s open hands were trembling. “Um. Is there any other way?”

“Hm?”

“All my life… I only cause pain to everyone.” His worry gradually turned to desperation.” I hurt everyone who gets close to me. Especially things that are small and weak. My whole life, I’ve been nothing but a… a curse. So… is there another way? Please. I want to be better. I want to be strong! I want to be like you! Tell me!”

He stepped forward, pleading. Kotoko stepped back.

His blue eyes widened at her sudden shift into defense. “Ah! I. I’m sorry. I’m-I’m sorry. It’s your birthday. You should be… Have a g-good day.”

“Wait.” Kotoko stopped him before he could flee. She was aware of the massive gap between them, the vastly different backgrounds they came from. Still, she offered the same advice that had helped her in her toughest of days.

“Don’t worry so much about others’ strength. The quickest way to burn yourself out is getting overwhelmed with the power that’s all around you. Once you start putting all your focus toward honing your own skills and strengths, you’ll realize how much you’re truly capable of. You don’t need anyone else. You’ll realize that you are enough.”

“I… am enough…?”

She placed a hand firmly on his shoulder.

“So, no need to get all worked up now, okay?”

“O-okay. I’ll do my best.” He stiffened, trying to appear worthy of her words.

She let out a bitter laugh. “I told the others not to do anything for my birthday, but I don’t think they paid me any mind.” Kotoko still couldn’t fathom how they were so friendly with each other given the situation. “Let’s go see if there’s some cake or something.”

#milgram #kotoko yuzuhira #haruka sakurai #thank you so much! this one was super interesting to write 👀#the thing is even though they dont have any direct problem between them they would still have a hard time communicating #but once they DO communicate there would so much they could learn from/help each other with!!!#this is leaning into my theory that kotokos murder (like harukas) was a rightful emotion that spiraled out of control #it really puts it into perspective how young kotoko is when you remember shes not too much older than haruka #and theyre both susceptible to strong emotions that stem from feeling weak int he face of the big scary world #but kotokos sees her as some blessing of power to serve her heroic thoughts and haruka sees his as a curse #ty to my pals who helped me find the exact spot in the timeline i was looking for 🙏#although kotoko doesnt believe she can change that easily she 100% undergoes the exact type of dramatic change as the others #once again referencing the arm wrestling info from yamanaka #between that and the fact that strangulation actually takes a fair amount of power #i just think its very good to remember that haruka is so physically strong #also something something kids looking up and wanting to be like kotoko and her complex emotions on that....#these two are sooooo interesting AH #drabbles

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azul-marie · 2 years

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alcina. (belonging)

fem. reader

you are an angel amongst mountains of silk.

the soft of your hair rests loosely, untied or tucked, flyaways aplenty from the static of her sofa pillows surrounding your tiny, wonderful body. the nightgown you wear, deep, dark as freshly pressed wine, sits low upon your shoulders, exposing delicate, supple skin waiting, wishing to be devoured. she almost hoped you meant it a distraction, mischief hidden beneath innocence. but you watch her dress for her family meeting with earnest, curious eyes, no such gleam of trouble anywhere to be found.

alcina adored you.

“pet, don’t you have some resting to do?” she says, a trace of tease in her strong voice. she stands before her dressing mirror, catching your eyes in the reflection. her hands smooth the sides of her dress, white as snow, her tint of skin, taking pleasure in how eagerly your gaze follows. “i won’t be long, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

your chin lays tilted on the settee’s armrest, a sideways view still plenty pleasing. she feels your eyes linger on her undone face, her natural self on display. alcina pretends not to notice.

“may i help you with your makeup?” you ask.

she turns to you, shocked. her expression must betray otherwise, or be more severe than she’d realized, for you shrink back and avert your eyes away. “oh, i’m sorry, i’ve misspoken—”

alcina is quick to wave you off, tutting her apology. “my dear, you surprised me, is all. i thought you liked watching me apply.”

“i do! it’s-it’s just…” you say, blinking up at her like a cherub from a renaissance capture, sweet and rosy. “at the very least, i’d like to choose a lipstick for you, if it’s quite alright.”

there’s a familiar pull of skin, crinkles and laughlines accompanying her ardent smile. “come now, it’s more than alright.”

her powder smells of rosewater and talc. it falls like stardust upon you, landing on dolce lips and fluttering lashes.

it is commonplace for alcina to situate you on her lap as she goes about her makeup routine, a process long enough to warrant your presence being. the time is spent watching her work, holding brushes or palates for her to choose between, and the occasional touch of lips exchanged.

you know to be patient, and keep still.

with a final run of a brush over her eyelids, she seals the look of her part, taking a moment to examine herself in her vanity’s reflection. she tries not to chuckle at the way you squirm with excitement, now knowing the finishing touch was all yours to claim. she calms you with a hand brushing over your waist. with the other, she reveals to you her drawer packed full with lip colors of every kind, from the peachiest pink to the deepest violet.

“the honors, girl.”

you trace indecisive lines over bullets of every size and shape. you worry for time, shown through quivering hands, but alcina’s touch splayed across your back is patient, watchful. she’s enjoying this, your eager, careful wish of adorning her. time taken is for her sake.

you uncap a bullet to find a bright, fiery shade of scarlet.

“this one.” you decide, holding it up for her to see. “if it’s all the same to you, mistress.”

she nods an approval, then eyes you with a calm, amused smile. “you know i trust you’ll see me off best, dear.”

you swivel around in her lap, until your legs hang over her thighs, your little arms steadying yourself with the help of her wide, powerful shoulders. alcina does not miss how longingly you gaze at her décolletage, how the static white of her skin differs from yours. her large hands settle themselves upon your thighs, your nightgown exposing the soft, sensitive flesh with the lift of your movements.

she smells the heat of blood pulsing between your ribs.

“may i?” you ask, in a breathless sort of voice.

“please do, lest i arrive fashionably late.”

the gentle way you cup her face almost makes her laugh. you, with hands the size of rosebuds, your very being no larger than one of beneviento’s dolls. with concentration lacing your brow you focus on dotting her lips alight, creamy color bright against her skin. it resembles greatly the bite of blood, or the homemade wine she tastes of. it takes all you have not to lean in for one.

“you’re lovely.” you say, meek as a lamb. you click the bullet in place with a snap, holding it up for alcina to take. she does, but clasps her hand around your arm for a good while.

“such a sweetheart.” she purrs, eyes crinkling with her signature dazzle. “i won’t be long, you hear? but i still want you in bed by the time i get back. rest, rest, rest.” with the same hand alcina lowers you to the ground, paying another look at her reflection before standing upright. she watches you, raising a brow, until you scurry off and up her bed, showing your usual obedience. she has no reason to worry.

“be safe, mistress.” you whisper beneath velvet and lace.

alcina beams with a grin of pleasure. “always.”

her bedroom doors slam close behind the exit of her gargantuan being.

with a loud click, they are locked shut.

#alcina dimitrescu #resident evil 8 imagines #resident evil imagines #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re imagine #resident evil #re8 village #re8 imagine #alcina dimitriscu x reader #b….big lady #ma’am? i mean mommy? i mean ma’am? i mean #writing this giant woman made me want to write for bayonetta LMAO #giant ladies = very nice #also would love to write for re3r jill soon…she’s so so pretty #don’t even get me started on carlos tho 👀#YOOOO also dbd ada looks kinda 👀👀 ma’am i mean ma’am i mean #female reader

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bitfruity · 5 months

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i hope everyone had a good holiday! i wasn’t very active yesterday because it was christmas day here and i was with family. but i wanted to say thank you so much for the wonderful christmas tree messages (i had to download the app later to read them🙄) they really warmed my heart😊💚

i know others have made some lovely posts about this fandom and the community here that are way better than anything i could put into words. but i just wanted to say thank you all because i’ve honestly never interacted with or had the confidence to post much of anything in a fandom before. i’m a very socially anxious person and unfortunately that carries over to online interactions as well so i usually used to just lurk and maybe leave a tag here and there.

but this beautiful frandom has made me come out of my shell more and given me confidence to post my silly thoughts or contribute to the conversation. i’ve even made some internet friends which is something i’ve never done before!

one of the tree deco messages said that they enjoyed reading my tags and that made me really happy because i didn’t used to do that very often and now i feel like i’ve joined in on the fun. i often have insecurities if i’m doing fandom/internet speak right or if my jokes even make sense😅 so it’s really validating to hear that at least one person enjoys my commentary just like how i enjoy so so many of yours💚

anyway before i get too sentimental here are some of the gifts i thought you guys might enjoy

my sister made me this card🤩💚

and she also got me a gengar plushie😈

#christmas was about as lovely as it can be #i feel so greatful to have such a talented sister who enjoys the same things i do #she may not be as big of a fan as i am but she’ll listen to me talk endlessly about my interests and hyperfixations #so i love her very dearly❤️❤️❤️#i can’t believe she forgot the rammstein tattoo tho cause she’s a huge fan of them😅#sadly i didn’t get any kä related gifts but i understand cause the exchange rate and shipping to the US is pricey #she got my hopes up with the card but it was still a good christmas #i even got a 1in button maker from my older sister so i’m excited to maybe make some KäCU related buttons👀#käärijä #häärijä #art #pokémon #gengar #fruity thoughts #my posts

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k-leemac · 2 years

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“I thought you didn’t care about anyone but yourself.”

#the way she is so surprised someone actually came back 🥺#no one has ever come back for her #😭😭#i'm looking at you neal👀#big gifs #csedit #captain swan #ouat #once upon a time #ouatedit #pastel coloring #emmaswanedit #hookedit #killian jones #emma swan #userstorybrooke #*

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drbtinglecannon · 8 months

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OH??? VIABLE WLW SHIP??? NIGHTFALL X HANDLER?? BI WOMEN REAL????

#aside twilight no one else has ever made nightfall blush like that lol. both the little blush & the big entire face red blush #THE “so adorable” THOUGHT BUBBLE TOO?? HANDLER MA'AM?? BI WOMEN???#nightfall did give handler all that jewelry she & twilight won from the tennis tournament too. I'm now actively routing for them lol #finally someone else for nightfall that isn't someone who genuinely does not notice her feelings & would never reciprocate them anyway #*rooting. bah tumblr let me edit tags gdi #anyway I didn't even finish the chapter yet I was too 👀?! about this scene #spy x family #sxf manga spoilers #sxf nightfall #sxf handler #what would their ship name even be? handfall? nightler? handlerfall? idfk. bi women #nightfall x handler

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theromanticrationalist · 4 months

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Sheldon: "Amy deserves better. You know when we buy the Planter's deluxe mix she eats all the Brazil nuts so I don't have to look at them. She's an unique blend of saint and squirrel." The Big Bang Theory 6x07 "The Habitation Configuration"

#just shamy things #sheldon speaking the God's honest truth #my favorite shamy quotes #I just die over these little character tidbits #this is just so precious and adorable #you darn toot'in she deserves better sheldon lee cooper #the big bang theory #amy farrah fowler #sheldon cooper #you know I can kind of understand his aversion to looking at brazil nuts #I'm finding a little bit unsettling that I can relate and understand Sheldon quite a bit #👀

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huginsmemory · 6 months

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To follow up on the previous post mentioning that I knew I'd be meeting law soon in op and being excited because I'd know I'd like him. WELL. He's not the character I imprinted on. I mean let's be real I'll probably imprint on him aggressively when I learn more about him but u know who I DID IMPRINT ON? EUSTASS KID. THATS RIGHT. my gender envy snatched that boy so fast do u understand the envy of a person who as a kid was so desperately adhered to Toxic Masculinity and Always Wanted to Be Buff. Boy howdy did I mention I so badly wanted to be perceived as Male and that roughness expected of them. And Eustass Kid fulfills that roughly masculine stereotype to a tee EXCEPT not since he's also leaning into punk subculture and gender defying lipstick and it's not meant in an effeminant way but kinda a Don't Fuck With Me Way which his whole look screams and so suddenly that's TEN TIMES BETTER BECAUSE FUCK GENDER STEREOTYPES. and also did I mention he's clearly supposed to be Celtic/Scottish? and as a person whose also Scottish I'm like oh FUCK YES. And oh no that's EXACTLY the gender vibe I want. And then u don't know anything about him for the next age I guess since they all disappeared

#god i was such an ass as a kid. how did i realize i was not trans of somesort earlier...#oh wait cause my friend i grew up with ALSO adhered to toxic masculinity and we both wanted to be buff men. but shes now happy in her #relationship with her partner and i think the gender part doesn't matter much to her #which. well to each their own #anyways terribly embarrassing for my brain to latch on so hard #also as someone who does tanning and he sorta has that fur coat/warrior vibe my brain is like We Need More Furs in My Room #just finished two sheep skins two months ago which are on my floor #but itd be nice to get another bear pelt... oooo if its a grizz i might throw it ontop of my bed since itd be big enough #i already have a bear pelt over my desk chair tho. but. also 👀#theyre so cozy ok #gender envy #hugin rambles #eustass kid #one peice musings

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another-clive-blog · 3 months

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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"

#And then we get Emo king Clive with 'Oh no you don't' Emmy. Toxic Yuri my friends (Alright I'm joking I'm joking dw)#Also I know the end is an angsty cliffhanger and the beginning is more comedy than shipping but. Idk I'm bad at shipping #Emmy fans I would love to know how accurate I wrote her 👀 I literally rewrote this whole thing 5 times cuz it didn't feel right #So I hope this is the right one !! Although I did wonder if she would be around canonically. Or if she would work at a newspaper #I do feel like she drinks coffee tho. And Clive is fond of beverages so we're good =)#Anyway I'm rambling a lot ??? Point is- sorry for the delay and I hope you like it !!#Now I still have to finish my Big Bang outline. It is mostly done but I'd like to add an excerpt too. So I will probably post less here #Clive dove #Emmy altava #clemmy #professor layton and the unwound future #professor layton and the lost future #My writing #Ask

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