#she decorates her room with movie and music posters

[the-lark-ascending69]

I loove the android robin au it's really one of the most interesting au I have seen in a while.

I am always happy to see new post abt it

Also making my favourite characters go through hell and then receiving comfort from their people is like the best thing ever for me so every time I see a whump!Robin post I like automatically

People loving android!Robin makes me so happy anansnssndsnsns she's curious and excitable and full of wonder and the world keeps punishing her for simply being alive. Sometimes it's too painful even for me, big whump lover 😭😭 though seriously, there is not enough Robin whump, and while all the characters in the show are very whumpeable, hurting my little blorbo Robin feels special because... she's just so deeply lonely. She's lonely and she thinks she deserves to be because of something wrong with her (pulling this interpretation from Surviving Hawkins lore which is canon to me 😭). That was a big idea I had when I first came up with android!Robin... that there is something wrong with her. Broken. In this AU she's literally broken in a lot of way (battery and memory problems, weak joints in her lower half, etc), but that's all within the range of normal robot problems. The real issue with her is that she's sentient. It terrifies people because it really brings out the existencial horror of... well, existing. It terrifies Robin most of all. She is the problem. She is what's wrong with her. She shouldn't exist.

But at the same time, she loves being alive so much! She doesn't understand it and doesn't know how it happened, but it happened, and now she's real and wants to experience life and the world and know people like human beings do. So it's her constant battle to become human despite humans having hurt her so much in the past... only for Nancy to already see her as human. Just one made of metal and plastic, but human nonetheless. She's the first person to see her that way and maybe everyone else thinks she's crazy, but Nancy is used to that. She's so sure of this, though, of Robin's self-awareness. She trusts her so blindly. She doesn't even need proof. And not only does she believe her, but she defends her humanity in front of her friends and family so ardently, fighting so hard for Robin to be aknowledged by everyone else as human. Fighting so hard to give her a home and family for the first time in her life.

Nancy has it bad for Robin, really. She's just so in love, even if everyone else thinks she's crazy for falling in love with a machine (no one thinks she is, though, because they all know Robin, and once you know Robin, it's impossible not to love her).

[cripcross]

PLAN B.

🔞 this post contains mature themes. mature audiences only, minors do not interact. ageless/anonymous accounts that interact with my account will be blocked.

pairings: pre-outbreak!joel miller, afab!reader

😇 warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink if you squint, creampie, masturbation, slight voyeurism, overstimulation, p in v sex, joel has a big dick, pure filth.

summary: being neighbors with the miller's gives you the privilege of going over to their house frequently. as usual, you spend time with sarah and flick through magazines, but what you don't expect to see is joel jerking off in his bedroom.

As the familiar neighbor of the Miller's, you frequently visited the small family. More specifically, just to comply with Sarah's constant requests of listening to Destiny's Child and gossiping about Christina Aguilera and Eminem.

Stacking the countless Teen Vogue magazines in a neat pile on Sarah's desk, you realized that the young girl had fallen asleep on her bed. Her golden-brown curls laid messily on her pillow, her eyes closed and she breathed softly.

The house was quiet as the night air swept throughout the hallways and rooms. Moonlight seeped through the curtains of her bedroom, illuminating parts of her bed and nightstand.

Taking in your surroundings, you silently admired the decorations Sarah had in her room. The pink-painted walls, posters of music bands, numerous polaroids pictures and first-place ribbons pinned on the cork board above her desk. Your eyes glanced towards the clock on Sarah's nightstand.

After seeing the late time, you draped a blanket over Sarah and quietly tip-toed out of her bedroom, attempting to leave silently, despite the floorboards creaking underneath your every step. Making it out into the dim hallway, you slowly passed Joel's bedroom that was left ajar. About to take the first step down the stairs, you abruptly stopped after hearing a noise from Joel's bedroom.

A groan.

Maybe he's working out?

He might be watching a movie?

Your curiosity got the better of you. Before you knew it, you were standing right outside his bedroom door, hearing his quiet groans and grunts. Your eyes focused, looking into the slight crack between the ajar door and doorway. Waves of shock ran through your body as your eyes widened.

Joel sat on his bed, shirtless and leaning against the headboard. His pillows were scattered everywhere, his sheets and blankets messy. The real gem was in between his legs. Joel sat there, chest heaving and jaw slack, stroking his cock.

His hand was wrapped in a fist, gripping his cock, his hand running up and down in fast strokes. Watching him, an arousal pooled in between your thighs. His messy curls, veiny arms, and his fucking happy trail. You bit your bottom lip slightly, not able to force your eyes away from Joel's actions.

"Fuck, I... I can't cum." Joel mumbled to himself, eyebrows knitted together and eyes clenched closed. He sounded irritated and frustrated. He let go of his cock, letting it stand rock-hard and glistening with pre-cum between his thighs.

Too focused on looking at his girthy cock and body as a whole, you completely dismissed the idea of his bedroom door being slightly open. Leaning against the door a little too much, you stumbled into his bedroom and stood there dumbfounded.

Joel's eyes flickered to yours. He didn't bother covering a single thing of his. The words came out of his mouth before he could even process it. "Help me, cupcake. Will ya' do that for me? Help me get rid of this, baby." His voice was hoarse and quiet, his deep, brown eyes big and full of desperation.

After staring at him blankly for a moment, you took a deep, quiet breath and closed the bedroom door behind you, taking a few hesitant steps towards his bed. Just seeing you comply, Joel groaned quietly and began stroking his cock lazily.

Swiftly stripping off your pants and shirt, you heard Joel's grunts. "Oh, fuck, so beautiful, baby. Gonna come and look pretty, sittin' on my cock." More pre-cum leaked out from the slit on the thick tip of his cock, the more he stroked. Joel groaned, smearing more of the white liquid with his thumb, watching you intently.

You were completely naked, crawling on his bed. Joel immediately reached over, his large, calloused hands grabbing your waist and placing you on your knees, right above his cock. Joel's eyes practically rolled back at the sight of your juices leaking out of your pussy.

His fingers dipped down, gently rubbing and feeling your soaked slit. You let out a small whine as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in small circles. Your breasts were in his face, with the position that you were in. Joel took the opportunity to lick and toy with your breasts, before sucking hungrily on one of your nipples, letting his teeth gently graze against the sensitive nub.

You moaned, still on your knees, with his leaking cock pressed against your outer labia. Joel seemed utterly distracted with your breasts. He pulled his fingers away from your clit and put both of his large hands on your breasts, gently pinching both of your nipples in between his thumbs and index fingers. He left kisses on your sternum area, between your breasts. "So fuckin' gorgeous, cupcake."

Reaching down, you grabbed his girthy cock and rubbed the thick tip of it up and down your slit. His pre-cum smeared all over your labia and vulva, mixing with your own juices. "C'mon, ride me, baby. You're fuckin' soaked. Show me how much of a good girl you can be, yeah?" Joel spoke in a hoarse voice, leaving soft kisses on your collarbone and neck.

Moving from kneeling to a squatting position over his cock, you pressed the tip at your entrance and slid down with ease, putting your hands on Joel's broad shoulders to help balance yourself. "Oh, fuck, cupcake... so fuckin' good." Joel groaned, feeling the way your wet cunt engulfed his cock.

He was so fucking thick.

You whimpered loudly, working your way down his cock slowly. Joel placed his large hands on either side of your waist. "Doin' so good for me, princess." He kissed your temple, running a hand up and down your back. You inhaled deeply, holding your breath. You exhaled, knowing you reached the bottom of his thick shaft, feeling the thin layer of his pubic hair against your slit.

Joel allowed you to adjust for a moment, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. He was impatient and all he wanted to do was start fucking you relentlessly, but he didn't rush you. You bit your bottom lip slightly, in concentration, beginning to go up his cock, clenching around him tightly as you moved. It felt euphoric to you.

"Fuck, yeah, just like that, baby. Keep ridin' daddy's cock like that." Joel groaned, feeling the way you clenched around him. Going up and down on his girthy length at a normal pace, Joel's hands tightened on either side of your waist. He grunted and buried his face in your neck.

He didn't care anymore.

Joel held your hips down as he bucked and thrusted his hips upward frantically, hearing your pussy squelch everytime his cock went in and back out again. Your eyes rolled back and all you could possibly utter were pornographic moans, feeling the tip of his cock continuously hit your sensitive g-spot.

Quietly panting in your ear, Joel's libido was up to the ceiling. "Fuck, fuck, I can't stop, baby." His thrusts were deep and fast. His large hands clenched in the sheets, sweat dripping down the back of his neck, hips bucking wildly into yours. "Ungh, ungh, Joel!" You were seeing stars. Skin softly clapped against each other and his balls smacked against your slit continuously.

A big coil was building, deep inside of your stomach. You were gonna cum soon. Too fucking quick. "C'mon, princess, nearly there. You can do it." Joel groaned into your neck. "I'm gonna cum... daddy, I'm gonna cum..." You sobbed, your pussy clenching tightly around his cock, almost as if it was trying to keep him inside forever.

"Oh, fuck─if you keep clenchin' around me like that, I'm gonna fuck around and knock you up." Joel mumbled, not stopping his animalistic thrusts for nothing. You practically mewled at his words, eyes rolling back and drool slightly dribbling down your chin. "Need... need your cum... want it inside." You whined, barely able to form sentences.

Joel had the slightest smirk on his face. "Yeah? Fuck, you want it that bad, princess?" You nodded frantically, trying to bounce your hips up and down to meet his thrusts. Joel's grip on your waist tightened, seeing your response.

That was all he needed.

Burying his face into your neck, Joel groaned and his thrusts went back to the same, furious pace. He was fucking you like there was no tomorrow. "Gonna fuckin' fill you up. Gonna go home with your sweet pussy filled with my cum... bet you'd want that, huh, princess?" Joel grunted, pushing his cock deeper into your sopping cunt, with each thrust.

"Yes, yes, yes, please... please, cum..." You whimpered, throwing your head back as he bottomed out continuously, followed by the sounds of your wet pussy. Feeling the tip of his cock prod your sensitive spot one last time, your back arched and your eyes rolled back. "Oh─oh, fuck, Joel!" You sobbed.

Your sweet, white consistency squirted and leaked out onto Joel's cock. Down your thighs, down his balls, and staining his bedsheets. Joel's thrusts didn't conclude. He wasn't done. "Fuck, yes, c'mon... c'mon." Joel growled into your neck, his strokes turning sloppy, but the desperation was still evident. At this point, you were seeing more than stars. You were overstimulating and your mouth stayed agape as he fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own.

Within seconds, Joel groaned loudly, pulling out and swiftly pushing his cock deep inside of your pussy, once more, to the brim. He stayed still, not moving an inch, as thick, white ropes of his semen squirted inside of your cunt. You felt the sudden hotness inside of you, but all you could do was go limp and relax on his lap, with his cock still bured inside of you.

Joel brought his hands up to your head and ran his fingers through your hair, kissing your flushed cheek as he chuckled, slightly out of breath.

"'m gonna need to get ya' a plan B, aren't I?"

🚀 authors note: ffs, this took way longer than anticipated, but this is js another one of my horny thots, so i hope this was somewhat satisfying.

(i need joel miller asap) 🫠

[itsmealaiah]

I've been waiting for you (Tom Kaulitz)

(it's 2006 btw)

Warnings: smut

Synopsis: Tom invites y/n over for dinner, then takes her to his room to "show her something"

Your POV:

As I walked down the familiar hallway of our high school, my heart raced with anticipation. Tom Kaulitz, the hottest guy in school, had invited me over for dinner after school today. I couldn't believe it. I'd had a crush on him for as long as I could remember, and now he wanted me to come over to his house. My cheeks flushed with excitement as I thought about what could possibly be waiting for me at his place.

My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I was starving. I hadn't eaten lunch today, too busy fantasizing about this moment. Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. I quickly gathered my things and hurried out of the classroom, my eyes scanning the crowd for Tom. I spotted him leaning against his locker, wearing a pair of worn jeans and a tight black t-shirt that highlighted his toned physique. His hair fell over his forehead, framing his gorgeous brown eyes.

"Hey, you're looking good today," he said with a smirk, making my heart skip a beat. I felt a blush spread across my cheeks as I replied, "You don't look so bad yourself." He chuckled and offered me his hand, helping me up onto my tiptoes so that I could reach the top of his locker.I felt a rush of nervous energy as we walked down the hallway together, his hand firmly entwined with mine. I couldn't help but wonder what was going on at his house. Was he going to show me something special? Or maybe he just wanted to hang out and watch a movie or something. The anticipation was killing me.

slight time skip 

As we approached his front door, I felt a twinge of nervousness creep into my stomach. I took a deep breath and smoothed down my hair, adjusting my outfit one last time. He unlocked the door and held it open for me, gesturing for me to enter. His house was just as I remembered it from the few times I'd been over before: cozy and inviting. The scent of something delicious wafted through the air, making my stomach growl even louder.

"I hope you're hungry," he said, leading me into the kitchen. His mom was standing at the stove, cooking something on the stovetop. She smiled warmly at me and asked if I wanted anything to drink. I hesitated for a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed by the attention, but Tom nudged me gently and urged me to make a choice.

"Um, I'd love some water, please," I managed to squeak out. Tom's mom filled a glass for me and set it on the table, before moving over to the oven to check on whatever was cooking. I couldn't help but feel a little awestruck by how comfortable Tom seemed to be around his mom. She seemed to genuinely like me, which was a nice change from some of the other kids' parents I'd met at school.

"So, what did you want to show me?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I took a sip of water. Tom shot me a sly grin and replied, "Oh, you'll see soon enough." His words sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't help but wonder what he had up his sleeve.The rest of the meal passed in a blur of delicious food and easy conversation. His mom was a great cook, and Tom seemed to enjoy talking about his interests, which ranged from music to sports. I did my best to keep up with the conversation, but I couldn't help but feel like there was something more going on beneath the surface.

Finally, once we'd finished eating, Tom's mom cleared the table and excused herself to her room, giving us some privacy. I felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement as I followed Tom down the hallway and into his bedroom. The room was decorated in a masculine style, with posters of bands I recognized on the walls and a huge bed dominating the center of the space.He closed the door behind us and turned to face me, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alright, so you wanted to see something?" he asked, his voice low and sultry. My heart skipped a beat as I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. Tom stepped closer, and before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me. His lips were soft and warm against mine, and I could feel my body responding to his touch in ways it never had before.

As we kissed, my senses were overwhelmed with the taste of him and the feel of his skin against mine. I ran my hands through his hair, tangling my fingers in the soft strands as he pulled me closer. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and my heart raced in my chest. It was as if time had stopped, and there was nothing but this moment, this connection between us.When we finally came up for air, I looked into his eyes and saw something I'd never seen before: vulnerability. It was a brief glimpse, but it was there. He seemed to be just as overwhelmed by this as I was. And in that moment, I knew that whatever was happening between us was real.Tom smiled down at me, his brown eyes filled with something that looked like relief. "I've wanted to do that for a while now," he said softly. "I'm glad you let me."

I smiled back at him, my heart still racing. "Me too," I whispered, feeling a shiver run down my spine. He leaned in closer, his lips just barely grazing mine again before he pulled back, his hand moving to cup my cheek. I could feel the heat from his skin through my skin.He studied my face for a moment, as if searching for something, before he finally broke into a grin. "You know what? Let's take this to my bed." His words sent a thrill down my spine, and I nodded eagerly, unable to hide the excitement in my voice. As we made our way over to the bed, I couldn't help but marvel at how natural it all felt. It was as if we had been doing this for years, as if we were meant to be together.

Once we reached the bed, Tom pushed me gently onto the mattress and crawled on top of me. He kissed me again, his lips moving expertly over mine, and I could feel the heat from his body against my skin. I ran my hands through his hair, reveling in the feel of it between my fingers, and moaned softly into his mouth. The sound seemed to fuel him, and he began to kiss me more urgently, his hips moving in time with mine.

As we continued to kiss and touch, I could feel my body growing more and more sensitive. I arched my back, pressing myself further into him, and he let out a groan that sent shivers down my spine. He reached down and unbuttoned my shirt, revealing my bra underneath, and then lowered his head, taking one of my nipples into his mouth. I cried out, my hips bucking off the bed as I felt the sensation shoot through me. He moved his attention to the other nipple, sucking and teasing until I was nearly overcome with pleasure.

Meanwhile, I reached down and unbuckled his pants, feeling his hardness against my palm. I couldn't believe how big he was, how ready he was for me. I slid my hand down, guiding him to the wetness between my legs, and then slowly, carefully, I pushed him inside. He groaned again, deeper this time, as I began to move in rhythm with him. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, and I knew that I was lost in this moment, lost in him.

Our bodies moved together in perfect harmony, our breaths mingling as we explored each other's skin. I could feel myself getting closer and closer, the tension building inside me until I could no longer hold it back. With a cry of release, my body tensed and trembled, wracked by wave after wave of pleasure. Tom followed me over the edge, his muscles tensing as he let out a growl that sent shivers down my spine.

As we caught our breath, he rolled off of me, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His eyes were filled with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness, and I felt my heart swell at the sight. "That was amazing," he whispered, brushing a stray hair away from my face. "I've never felt anything like that before."I smiled up at him, running my hand down his bare chest. "Neither have I," I admitted. "But I hope it's only the beginning."

He kissed me softly, his lips lingering on mine for several moments before pulling away. "I think it's just the beginning too," he said, his voice low and steady. "I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I want more of you."I felt a warmth spread through my body at his words, a thrill of anticipation and excitement. I reached up, tracing his jawline with my finger, and leaned in to kiss him softly. "I want more of you too," I whispered. "I think I'm falling for you, Tom."

He smiled down at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, that's good to hear," he said, before leaning in to kiss me more deeply. His tongue danced with mine, and I could feel my body responding to his touch. As we continued to kiss, he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at me.

A/n: Man, I'm kinda hungry now.

1631 words, thank you for the request <33

[whole-circus]

hi! since your requests are open, could I ask for some room hdc?? with characters of your choice 🧎‍♀️

please take care of yourself and take your time!!

Creepypastas room headcanons!

➥ Jeff the Killer, Homicidal Liu, Eyeless Jack, Ben Drowned, Clockwork and Hobo Heart

Oh hi and thank you!! Here you go sweetie! If you wanted someone more then feel free to uptade!! :33

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☆ Jeff the Killer

What a stinky men. Im sorry but his room is messy for sure and you can't convince me otherwise! Dirty clothes, empty cans, leftovers, stains..man, hire him a maid or something. Some dead plants and messy grafitties, stolen traffic signs and construction boards! Propably never in his life made bed, and his sheets aren't changed often.

Definitely has many band posters on his walls too! Maybe some vinyls too?? Mostly the black, red and grey colours can be seen. Hates the big light, so usually sits in dark or with small lamp. His drapes 24/7 covered. He is emo and plays loud music.

Smells like cigarettes and like room that hadn't been aired for long time.

☆ Homicidal Liu

Pretty, clean and organized room! The only 'messy' thing could be mugs he forgot to clean (same tho). Im sure he has gramophone and listen some of this old, silly, romantic songs! Also - a lot of plants, maybe even lego flowers? Couple of this aesthetic posters, some gobelins, small paintings. Photos with his friends, S/O! His bed is almost always well made. He have many books, and an easel (what an art hoe of him).

Mostly green, brown and beige colours. He loves natural light and candles, and if the weather is nice then his windows are open.

His room smells like cleaning detergents, soil and candles (usually the flower ones).

☆ Eyeless Jack

Soo..his room is not as clean, but its caused by his wild side. On his walls and furnitures are many straches from his hands (or even teeth!). Otherwise? You don't have to worry about surviving visiting his room, you have high chance to not caught anything! I would say his room is pretty dark, only becasue his walls are in gloomy colours - maybe not black, but gray, green or navy blue (all in dark shades).

Let's pretend that he actually was into medicine before all his tragic events..pls? Propably has some decorations, like skeleton, anatomy-related posters! Also likes to keep his blinds shut, he is pretty hypersensitive in terms to hearing, sight, smell. And maybe..he would have this small, funny fridge in his room, you know - to keep his..food..fresh!

About the smell..maybe a bit of blood? And something rotten? But its not that strong tho!

☆ Ben Drowned

Musty, dusty and rusty room, but we still love him! He would clean once in a while, and he do that very solid..but that doesn't last long - his room gets messy very easly. When he isnt gaming then he is sleeping..pretty productive, huh? Bed is never made, lots of junk food wrappers, empty (or not) cans..

LED lights 25/8! His room is pretty dark, propably never seen the sun. On his walls are posters from movies, anime and games. Has pretty professional gaming set when it comes to computer (I would describe it but i only know that computer need screen and keybord lol). High chance of having some psp gaming corner! Like bean bag pouffe, TV and stuff. Also! Collects figures like funko pops, anime figures, nendoroids. Ben have pretty nice Lego collection too!

His room smells like sweat and energy drinks.

☆ Clockwork

A bit messy, but in this aesthetic way - in other way, chaos under control! You know, some clothes at the floor or on chair..some dirty mugs..and her trash can is a bit too full..but as I said - everything looks pretty planed..! She has many blankets and plushies (she would never admit to that tho) on her bed.

In her room dominates mostly shades of dark green and white! Has many fun stuff in her room - rocks, animal skulls..sorry fellow animal lovers, promise they were found! But also a guitar! Full jewelry holder - and they are all well made! Thats why they are a bit too messy.. And she keeps many fake plants, she sucks at taking care of them. Clockwork has many string lights in various shapes!

Dunno, but I cant really assign smell of her room! Maybe something like dust and coffee?

☆ Hobo Heart

Ahh I miss this pretty boy to be honest! His room is clean, end of the sentence, thats it. I also think that he would have some pet in terrarium or aquarium - lizard, frog or just some fishes. Even if they are small, he treat them with proper respect and like the family members!

Has white walls with paintings and photos of his friends/SO, but most of the decorations are in shade of red. Also vinyls as decorations and posters of his favorite singers/bands (m sorry but he totally looks like somoene listening to Lana Del Ray vibes T^T) - all in this 'aesthetic way'! Simple light bed sheets, and when his bed is made (which is pretty often) he put pillows that have this silly shapes. Like to keep his room natural lightened and loves candles!

His room smells pretty like vanilia, but its not a strong scent.

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[gorey-maiden]

The struggles of being a teen vampire | WWDITS | lazlo, Nadja and nandor x platonic! Musician Teen vampire fem reader |

I’ve had this idea for a while :p

Summary: reader is a vampire struggling with every day teen angst since she was bitten at the age of sixteen hundreds of years ago

“They keep getting on my nerves, I love them I really do because they are my family but I want to tear there heads off” reader states slumping back in her chair as the camera crew interviewed her“they keep wanting to spend time with me I never get any privacy” she rolls her eyes balling her fist “I’ve literally been with them for hundreds of years since I was bitten”

“Now this way” Nadja motioned with her hand as the walked down the hallway with the cameras, Guillermo following along side her “um Nadja? I don’t think we should bother reader she seems to be in a mood today” Guillermo looks back at the cameras stress evident on his face “I’m sure she’s fine just a mood swings is all” Nadja Brushes him off. They arrived at a door, it has ‘do not cross’ tape all over it along with a sign ‘KNOCK FIRST’ “she definitely has a unique way of decorating” Nadja sighs. Loud music can be heard through the door. Nadja opens the door “oh reader we just-“ the cameras focus on a dark silhouette, reader was hunched over sitting on her bed the laptop light illuminating her face, loud metal music was blaring through the room the only lights on where old red Christmas lights that where strung around and the many candles which sat everywhere. Posters of her favorite horror movies and bands stuck all over the walls. Her bed wasn’t a coffin but a large bed draped with red satin sheets and a black Canopy over top“GET OUT” reader yells, she grabs a book off of her nightstand and throws it at the door. Guillermo shuts the door quickly before anyone got hit. “Well…that was interesting” Nadja says looking at the camera.

“We’re all…slightly scared of reader” lazlo says looking Nadja “she is very powerful for such a young vampire, her type is a “soul vampire” they slowly suck the soul out of others” Nadja nods “we’ve seen it first hand, pretty gross” lazlo finishes.

Reader decided since they wanna hang out so badly with her she’d drag them along with her to do something she actually is passionate about.

“Everyone! Come to the fancy room, reader wants to tell us something!” Nandor calls. Everyone walks into the room sitting down “well..” reader starts fidgeting with her rings “I wanted to invite you all to a show my band is doing tonight” reader says “really? Oh dear that’s amazing of course we’ll attend” lazlo says with a smile “great, but one rule, no killing.” Reader states crossing her arms. They all sigh but agree “fine”

Should I continue this?

[heygerald]

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When Colt Seavers' sister, Parker, finds the professional asshole in a vulnerable moment, she decides to sideline the attitude to help. Is an asshole still an asshole if no one is around?

The movie was finished, and, apparently, a whole lot of people were happy and drunk over that little fact. The wrap party was currently being hosted by Gail—producer extraordinaire—and it was quite literally the nicest house that Parker had ever seen in person. White leather couches that cost more than her car dotted the living room floor, decorated with Williams Sonoma pillows, and a Versace rug that spelled the brand name out in big, bold letters. Art hung on every available space, while odd statues were placed at random throughout the living room. There was even a pair of perfectly groomed Afghan Hounds doing tricks near the conversation pit.

The opulence of it all was counteracted by half-drunken executives milling around the pool, very drunk equipment techies playing a game involving dice, a quarter, and a banana in the kitchen, and one particular Colt Seavers miserably attempting a handstand on the back patio.

"It's harder than it looks, you know," he told the crowd of onlookers as he teetered left and right. Venti swatted his shoe when it knocked into the back of her head, while Jody tried to act impressed with some half-hearted clapping. "I did this once—two hours. Could barely talk afterwards."

"Two hours?" she echoed; half doubt, half amusement. "That sounds almost impossible."

"Heh, well, nothing is impossible if you believe hard enough. You're the only one who gets to decide what you will be remembered for."

"Is that written on a poster somewhere?"

"Uh, not exactly—"

Colt's peacocking was cut short when an unfortunately timed sneezed caused the stuntman to lose his balance. He swung his legs wildly in an overcorrection that ended up knocking a full glass of Chardonnay right onto Parker's lap.

She responded in true sisterly fashion: by promptly shoving him as hard as she could on the hip with the toe of her shoe. And though his literal job was to know how to take a fall, the entire patio got to watch as he went ass over face into a nearby potted plant.

Alcohol, a nice sunny evening, good music, and better food made the fiasco a spectacle, and everyone keeled forward at the waist in laughter. Jody, bless her, did her best to muffle her giggles behind her hat while Colt awkwardly floundered on the ground. Parker didn't have such restrictions.

"It was a Taylor Swift quote, actually," she told the camerawoman. It wasn't as funny when she noticed the damage to her pants, and with a sigh she attempted to blot the wet spot with Venti's crumpled napkin. "These are brand new jeans, you ass."

Colt popped back onto his feet with a flushed face. A pair of executives raised their eyebrows at him curiously, and in response he offered his typical awkward smile and wave combo. "What did I tell you about being cool?" he hissed at his sister.

"You're the one attempting cheap Cirque-de-Solei acts on Gail's back deck," she tutted.

"You're not even supposed to be here," he whined while plopping himself down beside Jody. She pretended to sympathize by offering a pat on the back. "How are you even here? You didn't even work on the movie!"

Parker shrugged. "Dan brought me as his plus-one."

"His—? I didn't even get a plus-one!"

"Maybe because you do stupid stuff like a handstand in the middle of a crowded party," she sniped. Colt didn't rise to the bait, however, and instead slumped onto Jody's lap with a long-suffering sigh.

"S'not fair," he muttered into her leg, words half smothered by the denim. "This is my first big party, and you just happen to be invited as well. Oh, the misery."

Parker blew a raspberry.

Colt batted his eyes at Jody and she conceded with an easygoing smile. "I didn't get a plus-one either, babe. But you know what? If I did, I would haven't wanted to bring anyone but you," she cooed while tapping him on the nose.

And—god, it actually worked.

Colt's entire face broke out into a starry-eyed smile.

Parker, still wet and now grossed out, decided that was as fine a time as any to excuse herself. "Well that's officially disgusting. I'm going to try to find a hair dryer and see if I can't dry this before it stains or I throw up."

"There's a loo by the kitchen," Jody pointed.

Colt popped up out of her lap, his tantrum already forgotten about. "Oh, hey! Will you get me another beer? Something cold, domestic maybe. A bud light if they have it. If not, I'm cool with whatever is on tap."

She blinked at her brother. Once, twice, three times.

"Yeah," she shook her head at him. "And I'm the embarrassing one."

"What'd I say?"

Both women promptly ignored that as she asked if Jody wanted something, but the camerawoman was still working on her very much un-spilled glass of wine and therefore didn't need anything. Venti made a general request for some snacks, which Dan quickly seconded.

Parker gave them a thumbs-up before heading inside. The mansion was no less shocking the second time she traipsed through it, but it was certainly more daunting to brave without her date, brother, or Jody and with a giant wine stain near her crotch.

No one seemed to notice her discomfort, however. There were plenty other things to occupy their attention. Between the caterers walking around with trays of fancy finger foods and freshly made mojitos there wasn't any reason to take note of the unfamiliar face in the crowd. She wound her way past whatever game was happening on the kitchen island towards where Jody had said the bathroom was. Unfortunately, the free food and alcohol did seem to have a penance; the line was seven women long.

"Wine?" a waiter offered on a silver tray.

"No thanks, I'm still wearing my last glass off," she joked with a dry smile. The kid followed her line of sight to the large wet spot on her pants and went bright pink.

Still, it couldn't have been the worst thing she had seen before, and with a modicum of professionalism that impressed Parker, she pulled forward a second tray with a variety of fun colored drinks. The one closest smelled of coconut and had a cute umbrella sticking out of it.

"Piña colada?" she asked.

"...yup."

Parker grabbed a glass and didn't hesitate to take a large gulp. And—damn.

Thank you Gail Meyer.

The waitress then leaned closer, glancing pointedly at the bathroom and then Parker's jeans, before saying, "there's two more bathrooms upstairs that are open for guests."

Channeling Jody, Parker grinned. "Brills," she chirped.

She felt a little bad that she didn't have any money to tip the kid, but before she could try to work something out, the redhead was already drifting off through the crowd to offer the other guests her variety of drinks.

"Brills indeed," she said again, even more pleased.

Following suit, she wound through the crowds of people until she reached a large staircase. From there, the crowds seemed to thin out considerably.

A few people sat in conversation at the foyer at the top; a beautiful blonde woman that was the lead actress in the film was chatting with some friends. She was utterly gorgeous, with pearly skin and silken hair, and without even looking where she was going Parker covered her pants with her hand and darted to the hallway on her right.

The first door revealed a linen room with a washer/dryer set that she half considered smuggling out when she left later that night. The second a yoga studio. The third was locked.

The fourth door was tucked all the way on the end of the hallway, hidden between a glass statue of a pelican and a snake plant that was taller than her. It wasn't locked—in fact, whoever had previously been inside had left the door ajar.

Parker stuck her head inside, and was ecstatic to realize it was a bathroom.

A nice one, she thought while stepping inside.

There was a marble counter with a large white sink, a mirror with LED lights, a beautiful tile floor, a clawfoot tub next to a large window that overlooked the back yard, edited photos of Gail on every wall, plants hanging from the ceiling, candles propped across floating shelves, a stunning white rug of questionable descent, and—

Tom Ryder. Hunched over a toilet. Puking.

"Shit."

The sound of her voice echoed in the nearly silent bathroom. Tom jerked upwards, all red flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, and though it took him a moment to realize just who had walked in on him, he didn't manage so much as a glare before he was retching into the toilet bowl.

"Uh, fuck, um—do you—I can totally come back. Sorry. Sorry!" she said, panicked, backtracking towards the door before she not so smoothly slipped on said rug. Parker hit the ground with a squeak, and her piña colada only added to the wet spot on her pants. "Fuck!"

The hurling stopped for a moment as he took in a large, calming breath. And the sudden awkwardness of it all had her freezing in place on the ground, staring.

Always fucking staring when it came to Tom Ryder. Never able to look away.

The white button down he had arrived wearing was discarded haphazardly near the rug. His ripped jeans were bunched on the calves, shoes nowhere to be found, while sweat-dampened tufts of hair were plastered to his forehead.

He looked... well, awful.

Which was a far cry from the first time she had ever seen him on the set, and the three or four times after that in which the pair had equally unfortunate run-ins with one another. Every single one had been filled with witty barbs and well-placed insults. Mostly on her part. Tom seemed to prefer the approach of generally being an asshole in everything he said, did, and thought. It came natural to him, really, and just like their introduction it always ended with Colt playing referee to keep the two from drawing blood.

Well. Colt was nowhere to be seen, and Tom was already down.

Suffice to say Parker certainly had the upper hand if they were going to fight.

But—well, fuck. The dude was lying on the bathroom floor at his producer's house during a party that was practically being thrown in his honor.

Alone. Sick. And looking a little too close to death for comfort.

"Ah, fuck," Parker seconded under her breath. She set aside the cup to shake ice cubes and an orange slice off her shirt. Of course the towels were all white. Wincing, she started to pat dry her, well, everything with a side-eye in his direction. "Are you... okay?"

He scowled. Sorta. It was hard to tell when his face was half hidden in a porcelain bowl. "What the fuck do you think?"

"I don't know. That's kind of the purpose of asking."

"Fine."

"You sure don't look fine."

He glanced at her, eyes darting over the wet spot on her pants to the newly wet spot on her shirt. Somehow, he wasn't too sick to roll his eyes as he pressed his forehead against the cold porcelain. "You're supposed to drink it, not wear it."

"Says the guys vomiting his drinks right back—"

The mention of the word vomit had his face turning a shade of green, and not a moment later Tom pitched forward to throw up once more.

Parker winced. She didn't have a strong stomach, and the sound alone was already threatening her own health. "...er, sorry."

"Can you go bother someone else?"

The vomiting subsided. Parker looked at her pretty pineapple glass with a despondent sigh before she filled it up with cold tap water. He didn't accept it when she offered it, however, and with a defeated sigh she set it onto the sink counter.

"I'm trying to be nice, asshole."

"Hm. Since when are you nice?"

"Well I'm pretty sure if you choke on your own vomit and die, I'll be liable as the last person to see you alive. So," she fluttered her hands at him, unsure of what to do or where to touch, and eventually Parker settled for planting her hands firmly on her hips. "Just—chill out for a moment, okay. I'm going to call Colt and have him find Gail."

"No, no, don't—don't tell Gail."

"Are you kidding? I think you might actually die, dude."

"Just don't," he snapped in a tone that left little room for argument. Of course, it was plenty easy for her sidestep the argument considering he was down for the count on the bathroom floor, but after a moment of a silent stare down, his shoulders deflated with a sigh. "I... she's going to flip. Alright? I'm fine."

"Fine?"

Tom attempted a shrug. "Bad reaction to shrimp."

Parker heard alarm bells ringing. When she spotted a nickel sized baggie on the counter those bells turned into sirens. She pinched it between two fingers while arching a brow at him pointedly. "I know giant shrimp are a thing, but I didn't know microscopic shrimp had started to gain traction."

His lack of a retort was more concerning than the vomiting.

"I think I should get you some help."

"It's not—" he started before stopping when he took too deep a breath. Something darkened in his features; mouth flattening, downcast eyes, furrowed brows. Was that guilt she saw? Or shame? "Just... relax. I took some Xanax and it... well, you know, fucked with the alcohol."

Parker couldn't withhold a snort. "Xanax? Seriously. Are you secretly an unhappy soccer mom or something?"

Whatever look had been curling his eyebrows vanished in seconds, replaced full force by a glare. "Fuck off, alright. I take them sometimes for anxiety."

"What in the hell do you have to be anxious about?" she asked.

There was a long pause. Music thrummed from outside, laughter, chatter, and shouting echoing happily in the summer evening air. The bathroom itself was cold.

Even colder when he said, "you know you can be a real asshole sometimes too."

And—yeah.

That single sentence fucked with Parker. Because upon closer introspection she realized that, shit, he was right. The guy was on the ground, throwing up, in a vulnerable state surrounded by some very powerful people that could easily ruin his career if they found him and here she was kicking him when he was down. Literally.

Pot, meet kettle. You two have a lot more in common than you think.

Disgruntled at being called out—by Tom fucking Ryder of all people—it was Parker's turn to flush red in shame. She tucked the pill baggie into the pocket of her jeans so someone else wouldn't stumble upon it and his piss poor excuse, before sticking her head out into the hallway. Whatever was going on in the landing seemed to be keeping everyone occupied, and the noise wafting from downstairs made it clear that the party would continue with or without her.

Satisfied, she firmly pulled the door shut. Paused. Then locked it for good measure.

The bathroom was surprisingly empty despite all of the decorations. Thanks Kim, now even Gail is part of the minimalist movement. The mirror cabinet was completely empty over then some Q-tips and an extra bar of soap, and there was no space under the sink for storage. Tutting, Parker pulled the hand towel free and stuck it under the tap.

Then, she lowered herself to his level. Physically.

Tom seemed surprised that she hadn't left. Even more so when Parker offered the cup for a second time.

"What?" he asked, a bit dumbly. Fair though, given the circumstances.

"You should drink some water."

"Can't you just piss off?"

She sighed through her nose and gently shoved the cup into his hand. "Drink some fucking water, Tom."

They stared at each other for a long moment before he accepted the cup. He shifted so that his back was now pressed into the shower so he could drink without choking. Parker took advantage to close the toilet lid, flush it, turn on the overhead fan, and crack open a nearby window.

Immediately, it felt easier to breathe.

Tom took two, small sips before setting aside the cup. Patronizing, even when he wasn't trying to be.

"Do you want me to go find one of your friends?" she asked; almost entirely because she couldn't stand not talking.

He shot her a deadpan look. "No."

"O-kay. How about some food?"

He grimaced.

"Right," she clicked her tongue. "Some soda? Ginger-ale might help with the nausea. I don't think you should take any ibuprofen right now or else I would offer some."

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

He gestured vaguely to her, to the room they were in, and then to himself. She could tell by the way that his face paled even that small use of energy was taxing, and Parker shoved the glass of water back into his palm.

"I'm just trying to help."

He harrumphed, but chanced another sip of water. "Why?"

"Because you were... right," she muttered through clenched teeth. He blinked at her through hazy eyes, and she tried not to notice the sweat dripping down his bare chest. "I was, well... being an asshole. And you need help. So."

He still said nothing. Parker tried not to feel super awkward.

After a moment of indecisive staring Tom took another sip of water before letting his head hit the wall with a soft thud. "Is this some sort of trick?"

"How on Earth is me hanging out in a bathroom with you a trick?" she scoffed.

"I don't know," he shrugged, sipped the water, and took a long, hard swallow that made her wonder if he was biting back another round of bile. Subtly, Parker propped the toilet lid open again. "Blackmail, or whatever."

What a fucking asshole, she thought.

"Just because everyone else is dying to get a picture of Tom Ryder doesn't mean that I am," she said. Her attitude did little to convince him of her good intentions if the wary look he shot her was anything to go by. Rolling her eyes, she plucked her phone from her back pocket, waved it dramatically around in the air, before turning it off. When the screen was good and black she half-heartedly tossed it aside. "Happy?"

He grumbled.

Parker huffed. Don't be an asshole, she had to remind herself while clambering to her feet. The hand towel was properly wet and cold by now. She switched off the tap and took a moment to wring out as much water as she could. Then she promptly slapped the wet towel onto his forehead with a thwap.

"What is—?"

"Just shut up and leave it be, okay? The cold water should help with the flush. Once your skin starts returning to a normal temperature, the nausea should be more manageable. I don't know anything about downers, but... it's the best I can do without getting help or using my phone," she said; adding a pointed glared at the mention of her discarded device.

He grumbled a bit louder, but didn't remove the towel. In fact, she watched his eyes flutter contentedly as he smoothed it out along his hairline. "Are you a doctor now or something?"

"On the side. I'm at A-list parties all the time. You're hardly the first celebrity I've found on a bathroom floor with an empty pill baggie."

"...seriously?"

"No. Not seriously, Tom. That was a joke."

He blinked at her. "Oh," he said awkwardly. Then, added, "wasn't that funny."

It was her turn to bang her head onto the cabinet behind her. "Well, sorry for trying to lighten the mood. I'm still a little worried I'm going to get sued or something for this."

"For spilling on Gail's mink rug?"

"That's mink?!" she shrieked, jerking around to give the rug a better glance over. No wonder it was fabulously soft. "Who the fuck keeps a mink rug in the bathroom? Shit! Do you think she'll charge me to clean it? I can barely afford eggs!"

There was a noise half between a grumble and cough, and when she glanced towards Tom he was sporting a crooked smile under the towel. "That was a joke."

"O—oh," she said. Parker glanced at the rug once more. "Well, it wasn't that funny."

"You don't know how to clean mink fur?"

With the panic subsiding from her suddenly too-tight chest, Parker returned to her seat on the ground, and glared. "I guess I skipped over that chapter in my cleaning manual."

"Is that where you learned the thing about wet rags?" he asked, subtly fixing said wet rag with a sigh. His shoulders relaxed as he settled against the shower glass, and in turn Parker tried to relax as well.

"No. I read that in an old textbook once. A physiology manual from, like, the 1930s. So, I actually have no idea if it's outdated information or not. Guess we'll find out, huh?"

"Why the hell are you reading a physics manual?"

"Physiology."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes. Like... a lot," she deadpanned. He responded with a blank, empty, no lights-on-behind-the-curtains look. Parker pinched the bridge of her nose before decidedly moving on. "I read a lot."

"Don't you work?"

"Says the guy who reads bad scripts for a living," she retorted. His cheeks had been slowly returning to their normal color, but quickly blushed an irritable red as he scowled at her.

"My movie scripts are not bad," he shot back with just as much heat. "They're million dollar enterprises, that make quite a lot of people rich and famous. Like people here, at this party. What have you ever done?"

"Not have my face plastered on a billboard."

"Exactly."

"Yeah, and thank god for that."

"There's not a chance in hell you would ever."

"Good!"

It took them both a moment to realize that they weren't actually agreeing on anything. Parker thought having her face plastered on a billboard was a horrific nightmare that she would not be able to endure, while Tom clearly took pride in his advertisements spread all over the Hollywood acres. Somehow, though, in their attempt to insult the other, they had missed the mark entirely.

The pair shared mutual glares.

Stopped short when he turned green in the face, pitched forward, and vomited a third and final time.

"Oh, shit," she said, hands waving around and not knowing what to do other than to snatch the wet washcloth from where it had fallen into his lap. Awkwardly, Parker patted him on the back. Once, twice. "Um... better out than in, right?"

"Did you read that in a book too?" his voice echoed hoarsely from the toilet bowl.

And, well, it was such a ridiculous question to be asked while he was hurling into a toilet worth more than her car, that Parker didn't have a response other than to huff.

Which turned into a giggle. Then an actual laugh.

In an even more surprising turn of events, Tom laughed too. "S'not funny."

"No, no, actually," she corrected him to gently lay the cold towel across the back of his neck. "I think that's the funniest thing you've ever said, Ryder."

Some time passed as he focused on taking deep breaths before the nausea passed for good. As he returned to his former position against the wall, hand towel now dripping a trail down his chest, Parker flushed the toilet a second time, and folded her legs into a pretzel so she could lean an elbow on her knee. "I read a lot for work. Out of boredom, mostly," she admitted.

"Bad scripts?" he echoed her earlier sentiments.

"Bad biographies, mostly," she corrected him. He gave her an odd look, to which she shrugged. "I work at a bookstore. Er—own—a bookstore, I mean. I just read whatever I happen to find that day."

Parker wondered if Tom Ryder had ever stepped foot in a bookstore before or if he got too distracted by his reflection in the window outside.

"I don't think I've ever been to a bookstore," he said, almost as if he could hear her. The reason why remained inconclusive. "But I thought the idea was to sell books, not read them."

"Generally, yeah," she conceded with a sigh. It wasn't so funny now and she frowned at the thought of her dilapidated store with shoddy lighting and a half-functional air conditioner. "It's not exactly... well, successful. Not like your movies, anyway. I can't throw giant wrap parties for my employees because, well, I don't have any. I don't get a lot of customers so I read."

"Movies are better than books," he said.

He must have caught the irritated curl of her mouth because he made an amendment to his statement before she could argue.

"I mean," he added in the raw sort of voice one got from throwing up five times in an hour, "they make more money. It's all anyone cares about in LA."

"Yeah, well, maybe I should get a billboard."

Tom snorted. "You wish."

Parker wanted to glare, but... it was a little on the nose. The idea of shelling out money to plaster her face—or even her bookstore's name—on highway billboards went against what she believed in. She liked the idea of having a small, hole in the wall shop where lonely wanderers like herself could take solace in. That's what the shop had been in the decades before she bought it. Then again, her old boss had been all too eager to hand it off to her, and how bill days she suspected he knew that it was a dying market without a hope or a dream.

Only—LA was supposably the land of dreams... right?

"You ever read sci-fi?" he asked.

Thrown by the question, Parker had to shake the static out of her brain before it fully comprehended. "Uh, sure. Loads. There's tons of source material from the 70's and 80's that is pretty fun. They're all considered kind of hokey nowadays though so they don't sell that well."

Tom shifted the towel back to his forehead with a thoughtful tut.

He didn't seem so sickly pale anymore, and his breathing had evened out. Even his chest had dried up a bit.

How didn't he die of lack of service if he was never wearing a shirt when she saw him?

"There's this role that I want to go for, a big sci-fi thing. Gail said that I'm not right for it, though."

"Not right for it?" she echoed, scrunching her nose. "Seriously?"

He gave a half-hearted shrug. "Too pretty, she said. Which—duh—that's a given," he added. Parker responded with an over the top eyeroll, but she refrained from faking a gag. She was a little too worried that they weren't out of the woods yet, and that the sound (fake or not) would provoke Tom to start hurling again. "But it's a smart role. Intense. A great script. I think I'd be perfect for it."

"Can't you audition anyway?"

"I don't know, I—she—Gail tends to know what roles I'm good for, you know. She doesn't think I can pull off a smart, sci-fi type."

Parker snorted. "Why not? All Chris Pine has going for him is blonde hair and blue eyes and he got three movies out of Star Trek. Pretty sure you got that covered. You know, box dye notwithstanding."

Tom shot her a cross look. "I would never use box dye on my hair."

"Even better," she waved a hand at him flippantly. "Audition then."

Something weird happened then. Something so out of character and bizarre that by the next day Parker would convince herself it hadn't really happened; that it was provoked by the bathroom fumes of Febreze and vomit.

But Tom Ryder, A-lister, looked... unsure.

"Yeah, I... I don't know. She's probably right."

Sounded it, too.

Parker didn't even know how to react to that. The guy had been a grade A tool since the moment she met him, and in the several run-ins they had since, he hadn't disproven the label. He basically worshipped himself. Once, she had even caught him admiring a paparazzi photo taken of him wearing low riding swim trunks in a cheap magazine.

Seriously!

The guy loved himself, talked about himself, and never let people forget who he was! What could ever provoke a moment of self-depreciation like this?

Oh, duh. Drugs.

"Jesus, how much Xanax did you take? You don't even sound like yourself."

The question pulled him from whatever pensive moment he had been having, and Tom's response was to promptly chuck the wet towel at Parker. It landed atop her head with a smack.

She plucked it off with a grimace. Wet pants, wet shirt, now wet hair. She would have to go home after this to save herself the sheer embarrassment of being an utter disaster at her first mansion party. And by the time she glanced back over at him he was back to his normal mode of self-importance as he started to run a hand through his damp hair, singular moment of weakness already forgotten.

"Is my hair okay?"

Parker sighed.

It was nice while it lasted, she thought.

"Yeah, Ryder," she deadpanned while ambling onto her feet. She fixed her own hair in the mirror while he finished the last of his water. He actually looked close to normal—because, of fucking course he looks fine after coming down from a bad drug cocktail—and she avoided the mink rug entirely to pick his shirt up off the ground. "Your hair looks fine, Chris Pine. Your shirt is probably all wrinkled though."

"Fuck. That's Dolce & Gabbana."

"I thought it was linen," she snarked.

There was some groaning and whining as he teetered onto his own feet, and while Parker was half afraid that he might just keel over and die on her, he seemed more scandalized by the fact that she was touching his designer clothes.

Snatching the shirt out of her hands, Tom huffed, "do you even know what linen is? I thought all you knew how to wear is that polyester crap you seem to like so much."

Wow. What a fucking asshole.

It was her turn to take a deep, calming breath as he ambled towards the mirror. He didn't seem sick anymore, his breathing was normal, shoulders relaxed, and he was able to stand on his own. Somehow, even his skin had bounced back with a lively, bright sheen.

Fuck, even his back was beautiful. How did—?

A wrinkled Dolce & Gabbana shirt was slung over his back, effectively cutting off her gazing. Parker ran a hand through her hair a second time. When she glanced in the mirror, however, she found Tom smirking at her.

"Staring ain't free you know. The pap pay a lot for this," he said.

For fuck's sake! she thought as her mouth curled sourly.

Shaking herself of both her stupor and kind hearted feelings, Parker snatched her phone off of the ground. She didn't miss the way that he was ogling her back side in the mirror, and she flushed a bright shade of pink without meaning to. That only incensed his smirk further.

"Yeah, um, Tom? I did lie," she admitted, pausing in the doorway to bat her eyelashes at him as dramatically as she could. She wasn't an actress, but she was pretty sure the point got across when she cooed, "your hair looks awful."

She watched his jaw slacken in the mirror with a sharp smile, before Parker swung the bathroom door open, and made her way back to the party.

.............

And the love/hate continues.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Lighting Bug - Chapter 15

Master list 

Warning: mention of child abuse, mention of past abuse

Word Count: 3.1K

“Thank you,” you looked from your book and saw Steve. He was holding a book of his own - The Hobbit - and a small notebook. 

“I’m sorry?” You questioned, closing your book and setting up. “Why are you thanking me?” He pointed to the chair next to you, a silent question asking if he could join you. You nodded. He sat down, glancing at the book you were reading. 

“I haven’t read that one. Is it good?” It was Natasha Ngan’s second book, Girls of Storm and Shadow. 

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s a typical young adult fantasy novel. This is the second book in a trilogy,” you watched as he opened the notebook and wrote something down. “You still haven’t told me why you are thanking me.” He closed the book. 

“Bucky told me you and he talked,” he opened The Hobbit to where his bookmark was. “So thank you. You didn’t need to apologize but you did.” You watched the super soldier read. He used the bookmark to keep track of what line was one. 

“Do you miss how quiet it was before you went into the ice?” You found yourself asking. He paused the movement of the bookmark as he thought. “I assume it was quieter back then.” You added. 

“It was,” he said. “I miss how simple things were and sometimes the world is loud, especially with the enhanced hearing,” you nodded. “But I’m used to it now. I think it would be weird without it. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you played with the pages of the book. “It wasn’t fair to Bucky. I was struggling to separate him and someone else.” 

“I understand.” You weren’t sure if he did. 

“What was Bucky like before the war?” You asked him. Steve smiled, a fond look in his eyes. He told you how protective Bucky was of him, especially after his mother died. Steve always found himself in fights with guys twice his size. But Bucky was there. “When did you know that you loved him?” He sighed. 

“It wasn’t until he fell off the train that I thought he was dead,” he said, tapping his fingers against the book. “It made me realize the feelings I had for him weren’t just platonic. One of the better things about living now instead of then,” he went back to reading. “It’s not perfect but it’s getting better.” It helped that he was Captain America. Who was going to tell him who he loved was wrong? Your father didn’t preach against it but you heard them talk about a same-sex couple they saw at the store and they did not say great things about them. 

“That notebook you wrote it in,” you said. “What is it?”

“It’s filled with different historical events, movies, and music,” he said. “I used it a lot to help me figure out the modern world. Now I use it more as a bucket list of sorts,” you nodded. 

“Sorry for the 20 questions,” you blushed. He smiled. “You can ask me something.” He looked at you, head tilted to the side as he thought of his question. 

“Are you happy here?” The question took you by surprise. You weren’t expecting it. 

“Yeah, I am,” you smiled. “I feel safe.”   

*

You sat on the couch with a notebook on your lap and your feet tucked underneath you. The talk with Steve got you thinking of all the things you’ve missed and wanted to accomplish so you decided to make your list. 

Go to the beach 

Go on a rollercoaster 

Watch Star Wars 

Learn how to swim 

Give Natasha, Wanda, America, Yelena, and Kate a hug

Reach out to Caleb?

“Hey,” America flopped down next to you. “Are you busy?” You shut the notebook and gave her your full attention. 

“Nope, what’s going on?” You asked. She smiled. 

“I have some homework from Strange,” she rolled her eyes. It made you smile. “Do you want to hang out with me while I work?” You nodded, a tight feeling forming in your chest. 

“Yeah, sounds like fun,” you followed her to her room. It was a similar layout to yours but the key difference was the decorations. She had posters and artwork on the wall. Stuffed animals on her bed and pictures of the Avengers. 

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess,” she picked up a few clothes and threw them in her closet. Her room didn’t look like a mess but lived in it. “Here, join me,” she climbed onto her bed and pulled a book onto her lap. You felt nervous for some reason. It was dumb, this wasn’t the first time you’d laid in bed with her. You shook your head and joined her.

“So,” you said, crossing your legs. “What is Strange having you do?” She opened the book. 

“Read,” she huffed. You couldn’t help but giggle. Her smile grew. “Your laugh is really cute.” You felt your cheeks burn and you busy yourself with playing with the blanket on her bed. “He thinks learning the history of the mystic arts will help me connect with my powers more,” she shrugged. “I just do what I’m told.”

“Explain it to me. I don’t know anything about it.”

“Okay, yeah I can do that,” she opened the book. “So this guy Agamotto found out you could draw power from alternate universes to create magic spells. He established the Masters of the Mystic Arts to protect people from extradimensional evil.”  

“Extradimensional evil?” You questioned. 

“Yeah, the dude was a little dramatic. It means ghosts or demons. Wong says the Avengers protect the world from physical dangers while sorcerers protect the Earth from more mystical threats,” she explained. Oh. That made sense? You weren’t sure. America laughed. “Your confused face is pretty cute too.” Again she made your cheeks burn. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled. She laughed again. She continued to explain that different sanctums were built in Hong Kong, New York, and London. You were listening, you were, but your eyes landed on a framed picture of two women and a younger America. 

“Those are my moms,” you jumped, not expecting her to catch you looking at you. She had a smile on her face but it wasn’t happy, more sad or lost. 

“What happened?” You asked. She sighed, running her hands over her face and down her hair. 

“Are you ever afraid of yourself?” She asked. You chuckled. 

“All the time,” you admitted, looking down at your hands. 

“When I was younger I couldn't control my powers. I can jump through different multiverses,” she added. You weren’t 100% sure what she meant by that but you didn’t want to interpret. “I got scared by a bee. When I screamed, a portal to another universe opened and they went through. I’ve been searching for them ever since but I was alone until the Avengers saved me.” You were surprised at how similar your stories were. 

“I was 4 when I discovered what I could do,” you told her. “I accidentally shocked my brother. My parents were less than thrilled about it.”

“They hurt you, didn’t they?” You weren’t sure why it was so hard to admit it to her. You admitted it to Natasha and Yelena but you didn’t want America to see you differently. But you were silent for too long. You knew it was louder than anything you could say. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “But this isn’t about me. What happened to your moms wasn’t your fault,” she smiled, it was small. 

“It wasn’t your fault either,” she said, putting her hand on top of your gloves. “What your parents did to you wasn’t your fault. It’s on them.”

“Okay,” you whispered. You weren’t sure if you believed her. You were constantly told it was your fault. Every hand laid on you or every world screamed at you, it was all your fault.

“Knock, knock,” you pulled your hand away from America and looked at Natasha. She had a playful smirk on her face. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” you said. “Uh, what’s up?” She looked between you and America. Her smile was growing. You saw America’s cheeks blush out of the corner of your eye. 

“I just ran into Tony and he brought up you being homeschooled?” You groaned, rolling. 

“I didn’t give him an answer yet,” Natasha chuckled. 

“Why don’t you and Wanda and I sit down and talk about it?” You nodded, standing up. 

“I’ll see you later,” you said to America. “And thank you.” She smiled. 

“Yeah, of course,” you walked over to Natasha with your heart beating (). 

*

Natasha stepped out of the way so she could walk by. She watched the young girl walk over to the couch then looked back at America, who wouldn’t look at the Black Widow. “So..” America groaned, flopping onto her back. 

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” the young girl glared at her. 

“You didn’t have to say anything but you said enough,” Natasha chuckled. 

“Whatever you say, kid,” she closed the door to join her girlfriend and Y/n. Natasha had to admit they were cute together and she didn’t miss the way America would look at the newest member. She trusted America to be patient and not rush anything but she would have to give them both the shovel talk if things were going to progress. Wanda was sitting next to Y/n. The young girl was smiling at whatever Wanda said. “So,” the Black Widow said, sitting down. “Do you want to be homeschooled?”

“Yeah,” the teen said, biting her lip. “I’m just worried.” 

“What are you worried about?” Wanda asked. She looked down, playing with the bottom of her shirt. 

“I don’t want you guys to think I’m stupid,” she said. Natasha wondered how many times her heart would break as she would open up to them. “I never went to school. My parents didn’t want anyone to know I existed. The only reason I know how to read is that they forced me to read passages from the bible,” she sighed. 

“Dorogoy, you aren’t stupid,” Natasha said. “We would never think you were. I didn’t go to school.”

“The point of the test is to see where you're at,” Wanda said. “So Tony can make a plan to help. The grade doesn’t matter.” The teen didn’t seem conceived. 

“We’ll be proud of you no matter what you get.” Natasha saw the relief on the girl’s face. Was that the first time she’s heard that? She was starting to plot a way to hurt everyone who hurt this girl. 

“Okay,” she smiled. “I’d like to give it a try.” 

“Let’s go talk to Tony.” 

*

You were nervous as you sat between Wanda and Natasha. It felt stupid but you didn’t know why you were feeling this way. Maybe because you didn’t want to fail them. “Well isn’t my favorite family,” Tony said. Natasha rolled her eyes. “What can I do for you?” The couple looked at you. 

“Uh, I’d like to take you up on that offer about homeschooling,” you said. His smile grew. 

“Perfect,” he turned his back to you and opened a drawer. “You are going to need to take a placement test to see what educational level you are at,” he spun back around, holding a folder. “Here is a study guide that goes through the sections of the test.” You took the folder from him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Do you just have this study guide laying around?” You asked. He laughed. 

“I had a feeling you’d say yes,” you shook your head. “No rush when you want to take the test. Just let me know, okay?” 

“Okay,” you hit the folder against your hand. “Thank you for everything. I can’t express how grateful I am.” 

“Don’t mention it, kid,” Tony smiled. 

“You’re family,” Natasha said. Family. You felt your throat burn and your eyes watered with unshed tears. 

“We’ll be upstairs soon,” you nodded and walked out of Tony’s lab. You weren’t watching where you were going, to focus on the papers Tony gave you. It was a habit you never had before living in the tower. You always had to be on alert. You weren’t lying to Steve when you told him you felt safe here. So, when you ran into a body it didn’t phase you. 

“Sorry,” you and Peter said at the same time. You giggled. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He said. He was holding a textbook in his hands. 

“Neither was I apparently,” he laughed along with you. 

“What do you have there?” He asked. 

“Oh Tony suggested I start being homeschooled so he gave me some study material for the placement exam,” you could barely contain your excitement. 

“Can I see what he gave you?” You gave him the folder and watched as he flipped through the papers. “Well,” he handed it back to you. “If you need help with anything let me know. I know MJ and Ned could help as well.” 

“Thank you, Peter. I’ll keep that in mind,” you said your goodbyes and headed back to the floor. It was strange, you thought, how a group of strangers turned your life around.

*

Tony waited until the doors of his lap closed before looking back at the couple. “Have you asked her yet?” Natasha sighed, shaking her head. 

“We haven’t found a good time to,”

“And she’s just getting her footing,” Wanda added. “She hasn’t been here for long.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“What happens if someone sees her and the news gets back to her brother and they come to get her?” He asked. “If you get guardianship of her it would be easier to fight.” Natasha’s stomach twisted at the idea of someone taking the young girl away. 

“Have you been keeping tabs on her family in California?” The Russian asked. Tony nodded. 

“Her brother is a senior in high school and on track to go to UCLA,” he leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “Their aunt, on their mother’s side, is a 1st-grade teacher and their uncle owns a construction business.” He looked directly into Natasha’s eyes. “I know you care about her. This is the best thing for you.” But what if it wasn’t? What if she said no and that caused her to run? 

“We’ll talk to her.” 

*

The floor decided to have a movie night but when Natasha asked FRIDAY where Y/n was, the AI informed her she was in the library. So the Black Widow went to the library and found the teen asleep on the small couch with the study guide Tony gave her on the floor. It brought a smile to her face. But the thing that tipped it over the edge was the crochet blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She made a mental note to have Wanda make her own. She knelt in front of her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest and the peaceful look on her face. It was so strange, how a stranger entered her life and completely turned it upside down. Soon her eyes fluttered open and Natasha was staring into confused blue eyes. “Nat,” she mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What-?”

“We are going to watch a movie, do you want to join us or do you want to go back to sleep?” She blinked a few times, trying to process what Natasha said to her. 

“Sleep,” Natasha smiled, fighting the urge to run her hand through the girl’s hair. 

“Sleep it is. Let’s get you to bed then,” the teen groaned, pulling the blanket over her head. “You are not sleeping here.” 

“Don’t wanna move,” she whined and Natasha had to bite her lip to stop her laugh from spilling out. She was throwing a small tantrum and it made her smile. The Black Widow knew her bed was going to be more comfortable. She thought back to what Kate said to get the teen to move to her bed. But she didn’t want to use cuddling as a bargaining chip. It couldn’t hurt for this one time. 

“How about we move to your bed and we can cuddle?” The Russian asked. She pulled the blanket off her head. 

“Cuddles?” She questioned. Natasha nodded with a smile as the teen’s eyebrows meant in the middle. “But aren’t you going to watch a movie?”

“Yes but between me and you, I would rather cuddle with you and we could watch a movie in your room.” The girl sat up and looked at Natasha, her blue eyes staring into the green. She was trying to find a lie. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Alright, let’s clean this up,” she nodded and helped Natasha pick up the papers. Once the library was cleaned, they walked back to their floor. “I’ll be right there,” she said. “Popcorn?”

“Popcorn,” she agreed and walked into her room. 

“Hey, is she joining us?” Wanda asked as Natasha walked into the kitchen. 

“No, and I’m not either,” she grabbed a popcorn bag and put it in the microwave. She leaned against the counter. “We are going to watch a movie in her room.” Wanda smiled, putting her hand on Natasha’s arm. 

“That’s great. Are you going to ask her?” Natasha shrugged as the microwave went off. She opened the bag and poured it into a bowl. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t want to ruin anything. She’s happy right now. I don’t want to change that.” Wanda nodded. 

“I understand. I’ll be behind you with whatever choice you make,” Natasha smiled, kissing Wanda softly. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Natasha grabbed two water bottles and headed to Y/n’s room. The teen was scrolling through the different streaming services. 

“What do you want to watch?” She asked as Natasha closed the door. 

“I’m not picky,” she huffed. Natasha laughed, climbing onto her bed. She placed the bowl between them and put the blanket over her. 

“The Incredibles?” She suggested. “I’ve never seen it.” 

“Perfect,” Before she pressed play, she rested her head on Natasha’s lap and put the metal bowl on her stomach. Natasha looked down at her, who was already looking up at her. She couldn’t figure out the look on the girl’s face. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. It felt different than the other times she’s said it. 

“Your welcome,” Natasha smiled. The girl hit play and turned her head to face the TV. Natasha could sit here and listen to her laugh forever. It was carefree, light, and happy. She was so different from the scared teen she met at Annie’s. She was healing and it was amazing to see.      

_

taglist: @aestruvx @toouncreativeforausername  @modedddd @whitewidowsbite  @julilamoment   @mythixmagic

[evewasheretoday]

More Heather + Veronica Headcanons!

Heather Chandler

Heather Chandler has autophobia. She fears being alone or abandoned hence why she always has a flock of people surrounding her wherever she goes.

She used to have mysophobia as a kid but when she grew up, it gradually started to fade away.

She has imposter syndrome despite her outward confidence.

She's a big ol' softie for Veronica and the other Heathers.

She loves tea— you cannot tell me otherwise.

She doesn't really care much about celebrating her birthdays but she'll definitely be happy that someone remembered and decided to celebrate it.

She's incredibly wealthy because she comes from a family line with a long list of people being lawyers or surgeons.

She loves pineapple pizza but only eats in the comfort of her own home.

Her parents are very traditional to a strict point and would not hesitate to marry her off if she suddenly got— I think you get the jest of it.

Heather McNamara

She knows how to play the guitar just a tad bit because her grandpa taught her to.

She favors her dad more than her mom who rarely is ever more present than her dad is in her life.

Mac has a fascination with astronomy and stargazing :)

She has ambiguous morality.

She loves strawberry milk but like Chandler, she only drinks it in the comfort of her home.

She has a lot of nicknames for everyone.

Will not eat food if said food looks slimy or disgusting in the slightest.

She can unintentionally be manipulative at times.

Loves sceneries a whole lot.

Heather Duke

She loves photography.

She hates clowns.

She has entomophobia and would NOT hesitate to squash an insect if she was given the chance to.

She was and still is a germaphobe.

She loves dystopian fiction.

She loves dark chocolate and dark roast coffee.

She doesn't like dogs but she makes a special exception for a few people (*cough cough* Veronica—) out there.

She loves old-fashioned music because of her grandma.

At times she can be quite an overthinker.

Veronica Sawyer

She loves baking cookies— just cookies because she doesn't know anything else she could bake other than those.

Veronica used to write poetry for people she liked before.

Has a knack for solving puzzles especially crosswords and such.

She (secretly) loves gardening.

Secretly collects vintage movie posters from classic films and decorates her room with them

Has a collection of vinyl music.

Hates being questioned a lot.

She's very irritable to a certain point.

If she can't beat someone in a logical argument, she wouldn't hesitate on resorting to using personal information against that person.

[aoikokoros]

I am caught up on Lovely Runner (Episode 14), and I have a lot of thoughts, but I will try to keep it short, sweet, and simple.

⚠️ Major spoilers ahead! ⚠️

Kim Hye-yoon is amazing. I love her.

Byeon Woo-seok is such a gorgeous man.

How are they real? 🥹

From the start, Sol is a huge fan of Eclipse, but she apparently has an interest in film, which is fine, but why doesn't the show - I don't know - show it?

Does living over a video store make it suffice? But she barely works behind the counter other than the one scene with Sun-jae.

How about recommending a movie to a customer? Get excited over new releases? Fanning over a director?

What about outside of the store? Joining a film club? Attending a festival?

Yeah, there is one scene where she works on a video for a shaman, but why can't they give us more of it? This includes filming, storyboarding, and/or directing.

ANYTHING.

It is her dream to be a filmmaker, right?

So. . . SHOW US!

Include her struggles with the wheel chair, such as going to location to location, meeting people in different places, and how inaccessible the city is!

GIVE US MORE OF IT!

But no.

ONE (1) film production company can't accommodate her.

UNLESS that is her last option. . .

(But, of course, we need to see it! Show more interviews, the recuriter discomfort, the lack of elevators, ramps, vans, etc, etc.)

It is a classic case of show, don't tell!

Yet, she gets the job after she changes the timeline.

ALL BECAUSE SHE CAN WALK NOW? ? ?

What happens to relevant experience? An internship? Meeting someone in the industry?

Either way, people with wheelchairs can't be in Film Production, even with the appropriate exp and skill, because of stairs.

Fucking stairs.

*Sighs*

I'm sorry people with wheelchairs.

You deserve better representation.

So much better.

There are no movie posters in her room. (Not even a generic one like My Sassy Girl or In The Mood For Love or Godfather! ! !)

(Although there are film related decorations in the latest episode. But why does it take that long to SHOW it? Smh.)

She doesn't talk about movies. Like at all.

A course in Film Studies doesn't count. Bffr.

She doesn't go to the movie theater other than her date with Sun-jae.

She doesn't watch any movie in her room, in her class, or with her friends and family prior to meeting Sun-jae.

There are no scenes where they bond over it.

(We RARELY see her grandma.)

(No one is home!)

(Way too many scenes with Hyun-ju and Geum.)

NO FILM REFERENCES? WHAT THE FUCK?

Yeah, there is Basic Instinct. . .

But it is a gag.

So, circling back to Eclipse, I keep thinking she wants to work in the music industry.

Or at least in management.

But she doesn't!

What the fuck?

Let's compare to Sun-jae now.

He is written more intentionally, and this is obviously due to the circumstance, but come on.

There are SO many scenes where Sun-jae swims. It takes up a good chunk of the plot.

But we can't see Sol watch a fucking movie? She only does it when Sun-jae is in the picture?

Give me a B R E A K.

It is nice to see his transition from swimming to singing, but. . .

We never see Sun-jae sing (aside from his performances with the band).

He doesn't fucking hum!

Yet he sounds like an angel.

His voice doesn't crack.

He doesn't sound out of breath. Off key.

He sings perfectly.

JFC.

Even when he and Sol listen to music in the pool, he doesn't hum or sing.

Ugh. Missed opportunity.

He is into songwriting, as well, but we never see him write anything until the timeline changes!

What the hell?

There are no posters of bands or musical artists.

There is no collection of vinyls or CDs.

He doesn't own an mp3 player or an iPod.

He doesn't listen to music on his computer or from a CD player.

His room is all about swimming.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE MUSIC⁉️

Where are the band shirts? ? ?

Why are all his shirts basic as fuck?

Why is he wearing a bomber jacket?

(Is it to subvert the expectation? 🤔)

What about attending a concert?

He doesn't talk about music. Like at all.

(We don't know who his favorite artist is.)

Even with his BAND MATE In-hyuk.

There are no discussions and/or actively involved in composing, singing, or conversations about music.

NOTHING‼️‼️‼️

Their bromance is cute tho.

(This could be me, but I feel like they have more chemistry. Maybe because they have a common interest - despite showing us about it - and they engage with it. Idk. You tell me.)

We see more screen time with Sun-jae and his Dad compared to Sol and her mom.

His dad gets a scene stuck in the washroom.

Do you get where I am going with this? There are holes in the character writing. It looks like Sol and Sun-jae are only people when they are together.

Smh.

Barely any music references. Which is a SHAME bc the story takes place during the Golden Era of K-pop. Although I'm glad they give Girls Generation the respect they deserve.

I'M SO GLAD YURI GOT THE CAMEO. After all, there are eight members in the group. It is not only Yoon-ah and Tae-yeon. 😤

(Genie Era is so immaculate!)

The show runners should have watched the Reply series if they want to integrate music and/or pop culture properly.

Tae-seong is fine. Song Geon-hee is great in the role. I wish he wasn't the second male lead tho.

(Also, Sky Castle reunion? Let's go!)

He has chemistry with Sun-jae.

Then how about this: we restart the show, but In-hyuk is the main character. He goes back in time and tries to save Sun-jae.

They are in a love triangle with Tae-seong. But, Tae-seong gives up since In-hyuk and Sun-jae are meant to be. They play in the band together, get famous, and go through the ups and downs in the music industry.

Sol is their best friend while she is in a wheelchair!

DO YOU SEE THE VISION? 👀

Ok, so let's talk about the murderer.

IT IS SO FUCKING RANDOM.

I HATE IT.

I HATE IT SO MUCH‼️

(I hate this trend! Not every romcom needs a fucking murder mystery!)

*Screams into the void*

I like the bit whenever Sol gets to a crosswalk, she gets anxious, and Sun-jae stands in front of her, and she calms down.

So, you would think a car accident takes place, right? After all, it is realistic to get disabled from a car accident. Many people suffer from it.

BUT NOPE.

THAT IS CLICHÉ.

So let's add a random ass murderer who drives a taxi and kidnaps people. 🙄

But there is no build-up to it. There is no news report on the TV. There are no appearances early in the show.

There is only a scene about him AFTER the shows "introduces" him.

"Oh, look! Someone is murdered! Omg!"

JFCCCCC.

What the fuck?

The guy who asks for her phone at the bus stop seems like a better option since he comes off so creepy and persistent, but no.

Oh well.

It is what it is.

So we approach the end.

Based on what we know, Sun-jae will regain his memories, the murderer will get caught, and they will have a happy ending.

But I don't know.

The way the writing is going, anything can happen.

So I guess we will wait and see!

[naussensei]

In Satoru's Room

The door of Satoru’s room opened to reveal a neat and clean place, much to Suguru’s dismay. He had almost expected food wrappings and dirty laundry all over the place, but instead, found himself in front of one of the most elegantly decorated rooms he’d ever seen.

“What the hell?” Are you like… rich or something?”

“Yeah.” Satoru said, with utmost simplicity, which had Geto’s jaw dropping. He was only joking when he asked the question.

Suguru entered the place willingly now, to inspect it carefully, as one enters a museum. The space was exactly the same as his room in terms of size, except Satoru’s seemed like a place where someone actually lived there, and not some cheap, tasteless motel room like Suguru’s. The closet was filled with several sets of school uniforms and the most expensive brands of clothes, some of which Suguru had never even heard of before. There were also some posters of bands hung on the walls, mostly popular rock bands like L'Arc en Ciel or Miyavi, and a few American bands, among which Suguru could only recognize the names “Blink 182” and “The Offsprings”, and only because some emo kid in his previous school was obsessed with them. Suddenly, Suguru’s plain, empty room felt lame, and wondered if he should maybe start hanging up band posters. Not like he knew many anyway. He didn’t really listen that much to music, other than whatever was popular on the radio. The only CD he owned was an Utada Hikaru CD that a girl in his previous school had lent him, which he didn’t particularly like, but just happened to keep listening to because he never got the chance to return it before he changed schools and houses.

In his exploration, Suguru made his way through the room as if it was a lion's lair he was entering, and continued to the bed now. In front of it, there was a TV with a DVD player, and a large shelf with a wide collection of CDs, movies, video games, and every single gadget that Suguru could ever think of, and more.

The only thing that seemed out of place was a poster of a girl in a bikini on the ceiling. Strange . For some reason, Satoru did not strike him like the kind of guy that would put up a picture of a girl in his room. In fact, he didn’t strike him as the kind guy who would be interested in girls at all. Or men. Or… humans, for that matter. But who knows? There was no denying he was handsome, surely he’d broken some hearts out there. Maybe he had a secret girlfriend waiting for him somewhere and kept a picture to remember her. Or, maybe he simply liked to jerk off to a picture at night, like all his classmates back home did. 

The image of it made Suguru squirm. He did not want to remember that. Least of all picture Satoru in that state.

“Sit,” Satoru patted the bed, signaling Suguru to sit by his side, which, right now he really didn't feel like doing. Not with the ever present picture above his head, and the lewd image he tried so hard to get rid of.

“Is that your girlfriend?” Suguru asked, in a lousy effort to keep the intrusive thoughts away.

“Pff, I wish.” Satoru dropped on his back in the bed. “You seriously don’t know who Waka Inoue is?”

“Should I?”

“Dude, she’s like, all over the TV and the streets.”

It was no wonder that he hadn’t seen her, since he hadn’t gotten a TV for his room yet. Although her face did seem to ring a bell, maybe from one of the dramas that his mother used to watch. Suguru titled his head to take a better look, which was apparently funny, because Satoru let out a laugh.

“She’s a model,” he said.

“Oh,” Suguru hummed, trying to sound impressed. “She’s, uh… she’s hot.” 

He didn’t really think so, but it seemed like the right thing to say, given how into it Satoru seemed.

After carefully assessing that the bed covers were clean and not stiff, Suguru finally took a seat at the other end of the bed.

“I haven’t been to the city yet, that’s why I haven’t seen her. But I'm thinking I should get a TV when I go.” He confessed.

From the bed, Satoru turned his head to look at him with furrowed brows. “You’ve never been to Tokyo?”

Suguru simply shrugged, somewhat embarrassed for some reason, wishing he hadn’t said that. He was not there to be judged, especially not by him .

“So, anyway, why are we here?” 

With a swift movement, Satoru got on his feet, then searched for something on the TV stand. The screen went on with the words “Play Station 2” on it.

“Because… I got this game, but it’s a co-op.”

“A what?”

“A co-op. You know, like, two or more people playing it. I’ve been meaning to play it for ages, but Shoko doesn’t want to play. She only likes to play Mario Kart.”

Suguru frowned in confusion. What did any of that have to do with him?

“…And?”

“And,” Satoru handed him a controller, “you and I are going to play it.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow at him, reluctantly.

“I don’t even know this game. I’ve never played it. Actually, I’m not really good at any games at all.”

“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun!” 

“I…” 

The genuine enthusiasm in Satoru’s face really had him speechless, wondering if his frustration was only one-sided, because Satoru seemed oblivious. Perhaps Suguru was delusional and he was the only one staying up at night dwelling about these unimportant things. But a few days ago Satoru didn’t want to talk to him, and now he had dragged him into the intimacy of his room to play games with him, like they’ve been doing this since the beginning of times. Suguru might not have been an expert in the art of making friends, but he was pretty sure that was not how it worked. They were not little elementary school kids that would fight and make up like nothing happened the next moment, but he wasn’t sure Satoru was aware of that.

“Come on,” Satoru insisted with the most honest smile and the biggest puppy eyes. “I would really appreciate it if you played with me.”

It struck him then. That this was probably Satoru’s own strange, immature way to apologize.

Hesitant, Suguru looked at the clock on the wall. They would have to wake up in just a couple of hours. “It’s late.”

“Please?” Satoru titled his head, his smile was charming. Surely he knew it was, and the effect it had on people, because it was having the same effect on him right now, and Suguru half-hated him for it. 

In spite of himself, Suguru sighed in defeat, taking the controller. “Alright. But first...”

“What?” 

Suguru cocked an eyebrow at him. “You said you had tea.”

Satoru flinched, suddenly all signs of softening around his edges dissipated, yet did not protest. He simply moved to the kitchenette to grab the kettle, put on a sarcastic smile and said, “Anything else your majesty would like?” 

“A sandwich would be nice too.”

“Ok, now you’re pushing your luck, bro...”

Putting the controller down, Suguru opened his eyes wide at him, arms crossed and a wicked smirk growing on his lips.

“Fuck— fine…” 

Satoru took in a deep breath, then turned to grab a bag of bread and nearly smashed it on the counter to prepare a sandwich. Suguru watched him do so with delight.

When he was done improvising two cups of tea and a ham sandwich for each, Satoru moved everything to the night stand next to the bed. It took one flick of his fingers for the items to travel smoothly across the room. It was just as amusing to watch as the first time.

“How do you do that?” Suguru shook his head, not caring to hold back his amazement. “That’s so convenient. You think you can teach me to do that?”

“Nah. I was born like this,” he said, placing a plate with Suguru’s sandwich before him.

“Why, thank you, how very thoughtful of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, now shut up and eat. Unless you want me to feed it to you too.”

Suguru’s silent grin was answer enough.

“Oh god, you gotta be kidding me…”

“You shouldn’t give me ideas, Satoru.”

“Dude, I’m not gonna feed you.”

Still smiling, Suguru put the controller down again, and opened his mouth the slightest, ready to take a bite.

“Fucking unbelievable…” Satoru grumbled, yet took the sandwich in his hand violently, and brought it to Suguru’s mouth. Blue eyes gleamed at him with spite. “God, I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”

Without breaking eye contact, Suguru took the smallest, most delicate bite, savoring the moment. Satoru’s lips parted as he watched him eat, hungry eyes fixed on Suguru’s lips now, as though he could taste the bread in his own mouth. When Suguru swallowed, Satoru swallowed. When Suguru licked the crumbs off his lips, Satoru’s tongue mirrored his. He must have been really hungry, because he seemed about to drool.

“That's a more than decent sandwich,” Suguru said, running his thumb over his lips to wipe the crumbs. Satoru followed his movements with his eyes, speechless, still staring at him with his mouth open. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed didn’t feel right, and it suddenly became less fun to tease him now for some reason. So Suguru took the sandwich in his hand, and Satoru’s eyes went from Suguru’s lips to his eyes again, his mouth closing instantly as he cleared his throat.

“You know what goes really well with it, though?” Said Suguru, to ease the tension, his eyes going to the full cup of tea on the table. Satoru was less than amused. 

There was horror in his face, and joy in Suguru’s.

“I swear to god I’m gonna shove that cup up your ass if you keep this up.” 

He reached for Suguru’s neck, and Suguru had to catch his hands to stop him from strangling him. 

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” Suguru was laughing now, which made it all the more difficult to resist Satoru’s strong hands, so he had to twist a little in the bed to avoid him. Luckily, Satoru seemed to have calmed down with his words. He was shaking his head now, giving him the most bombastic side-eye, but Suguru was certain he could see his lips curving upwards.

“We better start playing now,” Satoru said, taking his controller. “Or else I’m gonna end up either killing you, or myself.”

“Alright, I’ll try.” Suguru mirrored him, the grip feeling awkward in his hand. “But I don’t promise anything.”

(From Our Last Summer by Naus) Continue reading here

[togrowoldinv]

Ruining the Friendship

Florence Pugh x Female Reader

Florence takes you to go to visit her family with her. Will you leave as more than friends?

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please!

Note: So, I was thinking about Flo and wanted to do some friends to lovers with her. There’s a lot of fluff and a tiny bit of angst, along with the first smut I’ve done for her. I’m nervous about that, but I think it turned out well. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Florence Pugh Masterlist, Main Masterlist

“My parents are going to love you, y/n,” Florence says as she puts the car in drive.

“I sure hope they do,” you say nervously.

“Oh, they will, darling. Trust me, you’ll be like the celebrity in the room around them,” Florence says. She reaches for your hand across the center console and squeezes it softly before letting go.

You are in London to film a movie and Florence has quickly become a close friend of yours. And sometimes you think you might like her a little more than as a friend, but you haven’t dared to say anything to her about that.

Still, you jumped on the idea of joining her for a trip to visit her home, Oxford. She’s told you plenty of stories of growing up there and you are excited to meet her family. And a little bit nervous.

It’s not a far drive and it flies by with Florence singing along to the radio and making you laugh with her impressions of the artists.

“You’re home!” You hear a woman’s voice ring out when you step out of the car.

Florence runs to her mother and hugs her tight.

“I missed you!” Florence says.

The others join her outside and Florence hugs each one with all of her heart.

“Everyone, this is y/n. Y/n, this is everyone!” Florence excitedly says.

“Hi, nice to meet y’all,” you say and Florence’s mom reaches out to hug you.

“Welcome to our home,” her dad says.

And her siblings offer you smiles. You can tell they are all very kind people, much like Florence.

You go inside with them and Florence shows you her teenage bedroom. It’s still decorated with posters and music. Her old guitar sits in the corner on a stand and you smile at the idea of her sitting on her bed recording her old YouTube videos. Florence notices the instrument has caught your eye.

“If you ask super nicely, I might play for you later,” Florence says with a grin.

Before you can respond, she grabs your hand and pulls you back to the living room area. She sits down on the couch next to her sister, Raffie, and you sit next to her.

“What are we watching?” Flo asks.

“Oh, Pops wants to watch some game,” Raffie says.

Florence laughs and tells you about the woes of her family trying to watch tv together. She animatedly talks and keeps a hand on you almost at all times. It makes your heart flutter. And it warms your heart to hear of the affection that she grew up with.

At the dinner table, you all talk about random topics until Raffie breaks into the conversation to steer it to you.

“I’m interested in learning about our guest.” She leans over Florence and smirks at you.

“Don’t bother them,” Florence says she knocks her sister’s shoulder with her own.

“I just have one question,” Raffie says.

“Raf no-“

“Yeah, what’s up?” You interrupt her.

“Do you like Mamma Mia?” Raffie says and everyone laughs.

“I practically have those movies memorized,” you say and she gives you a nod.

“I like this one, Flo,” she says.

“So, I have a question as well,” Florence’s mom says. “How long have you two been together?”

“I’m sorry?” Florence wonders if she’s heard the question correctly.

“Dating. How long have you two been dating?” She clarifies.

“Oh, um-“ Florence begins.

“We’re not together,” you explain. “We’re friends.”

You swear you see a momentary frown flash on Florence’s face before she nods in agreement.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I just thought the two of you seemed to get on so well and you look great together. I’m sorry,” her mom apologizes profusely. She gives you a sympathetic look as she sees you look a little upset at the situation.

“It’s okay,” Florence says. “So, Pops, how are things at the restaurant?”

She changes the subject but the awkward air hangs around the rest of the night. Even during after dinner drinks and card games, things feel like they’ve shifted.

You two go to her room for the night and you wonder if maybe you should ask to sleep somewhere else, but you don’t want to make things worse.

You lay down next to each other. Physically you aren’t that far apart, but you feel emotionally distant from her.

When she turns to look at you next to her, Florence breaks the silence first.

“About what my mum said, she was just assuming things. I’m sorry,” she says.

“Oh, that’s okay. I guess I just- never mind,” you stop yourself from saying the words that scare you.

“Hey, look at me,” Florence says, her hand caresses your face softly. Her touch feels different than ever before.

“Say what you were going to say, please.” Her voice is soft as she pleads to you.

“I’m scared,” you admit. The air in the room feels still and you begin to tear up. You’re filled with so many emotions right now.

“Please,” she practically whispers.

“I’m in love with you,” you say.

You feel your words hang in air, almost like they take physical form and you can see them floating around the room. The intimacy is tangible.

“I’m in love with you too,” Florence says.

“You are?”

“I am,” she confirms. “I am so in love with you. I have been pretty much since I met you, y/n.”

“I feel the same way, Florence. I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I care about you so much and I just didn’t want to jeopardize any of this,” you say.

“Can I kiss you?“ Florence asks. You search her eyes for any hesitation, but you see none.

“Please.”

With that, Florence closes the distance between your lips. It’s everything you could have imagined and more to feel her soft lips against yours.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” Florence says. She rests her forehead against yours as the hand not on your face comes to rest on your hip.

“Me too, Flo,” you say.

This time you lean in and kiss her lips. It intensifies quickly and your hands find their way under her shirt.

“Is this okay?” You ask her, breathless from kissing her.

“Yes,” Florence says.

You pull her shirt over her head and admire her beautiful body. It’s perfect in every way.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” you say in awe. Your hands roam over her breasts and the moans at the contact. She shifts to straddle you and takes off your shirt. She kisses your body from your lips down to your waistband as her hands slip your sleep shorts off. Your underwear follows quickly after.

“You’re absolutely perfect, baby,” Florence says. Her lips hover over where you want her most. You’d be lying if you said you haven’t imagined this moment before.

Your fingers tangle into her short blonde hair as she licks through your folds. Your head goes back in pleasure as your other hand grips the sheets.

“Florence, oh my god,” you say as her tongue touches you just right and you come undone underneath her.

She moves from between your legs and kisses your lips. You moan at the taste of yourself on her lips.

It’s your turn to slip off her pants and underwear. You’re about to turn her over onto the bed when she settles with your thigh between her legs. You both gasp at the feeling.

“Fuck y/n,” Florence says. She’s breathless as she starts to ride your thigh. You hold her hips as you kiss her neck. The sounds she makes as she moves her body faster against you and comes hard almost make you reach your high again.

“I love you so much,” you say as Florence catches her breath.

“I love you too, baby,” she replies. She leans into your chest and you hold her against you.

For rest of the night and when you wake up in the morning with Florence clinging to you, you are beyond thankful for going home with Florence.

And you will be for years to come when this place truly becomes another home to you because home is wherever Florence is.

Tag List: @gracebutnotgraceful @i-wished-for-you-too @idkwhygregg @be-missed @mythosphere-x @likefirenrain @hehehehannahthings @laaurrel @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @flosbelova @yelenabelovaisthebettersister @ggrangerdanger @kkeduwjdjje @mrswidowjohansson @alotofpockets @marvelwomen-simp @maia-lightwoood @mortallytremendoussandwich @xxromanoffxx @whitemanshoe19 @peanutbutterprincess @picnicmic @wandaslittlewhore @marie45019 @inluvwithfictionalwomen @kacka84 @sammi1642 @itsyourgirlmalise @jujuu23 @hb8301 @the-night-owl-blr @avatarsnips @romanoffswoman @natashasilverfox @harleysincairo @natasha-danvers @rach2602 @taisiyaswlwreads @lovelyy-moonlight

[anangelwhodidntfall]

Matching Bracelet’s: Eddie Munson

Stranger Things Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

description: Eddie and Serafina were best friends and in love with one another in middle school before she moved..Now almost six years later Eddie learns that she’s back.  

"You like my bracelet Henderson?" Eddie asked Dustin who had been staring at the chunk of silver for the last twenty minutes.

"I do... it just looks a lot like the one our friend Serafina wears." Dustin said making Eddie stop eating because he hadn't heard that name in ages.

"She's in town?" Eddie asked because the last time he saw you was in middle school before you moved to California and you two lost touch.

"Yeah she moved back over the summer, I think she mentioned something about taking care of her grandpa." Mike said shrugging his shoulders as Eddie sat there processing the info about his first true love being back.

"Did you ever ask her about the bracelet?" Eddie asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah, all she says is that someone special gave it to her a long time ago and if you wanted to know she lives next door to Mike." Dustin said.

Eddie nodded his head as he couldn't believe that she was back after all these years. The two of them had been best friends before with Eddie being a year ahead of her, but promising to show her the ropes when she got to high school. He remembers how heartbroken he was when learned that she was moving because of her mom's new job and he remembers giving her the bracelet as a way to confess his feeling without really doing so.

"That way we'll always be together and you won't forget me." He said clasping the bracelet around your wrist.

"As if I could ever forget you, Eddie. I'm going to miss you." You said wrapping your arms around him slowly fighting the tears.

"I'm going to miss you sweetheart." He said tightening his grip on you as he fought his own tears.

Eddie was nervous, to say the least as he stood by the van waiting for Dustin and Mike to get her. I mean would she even remember him? Did she even want to see him, I mean why didn't she come to see him when she got back to town?

Serafina sighed as she heard the doorbell ring, it had been a long day, and was ready to relax. She opened the door and saw Dustin and Mike standing there but what caught her attention was the van parked in the driveway.

"Hi, guys, what brings you by?" She said greeting them with the handshake they had all come up with.

"Umm, there's an old friend who would like to say to you." Dustin said as her eyes lifted from his and over to the van where a boy who reminded her a lot of Ozzy stood, only when she really focused on him did she realize who it is.

"Eddie?" She asked almost as if she wasn't sure as they approached each other.

"Yeah, it's me, sweetheart." He said smiling as she threw her arms around him.

"I've missed you, where have you been hiding?" She asked him.

"I should be asking you that question but I missed you too. Do you have time to catch up?" He asked her as they pulled apart.

"For you always." She said saying her goodbyes to the two younger boys as she lead Eddie into her house.

The two of them walked down the hall towards her room where she let him head in first while she check on her grandpa to make sure he didn't need anything. Eddie walked into her room admiring how decorated her walls were with various posters of her favorite movies and music, he laughed at the Prince poster above her bed, but what caught his attention the most was the picture of him and her from middle school that sat on her dresser.

"Sorry about that, it's just with his health issues lately I like to check on him." She said walking into the room.

"No need to apologize, how is he doing? I feel bad that I stopped coming by and checking in on him." He said taking a seat on her bed.

"Umm not too good, his heart is really weak and my mom can't afford to hire someone so I offered to take some time off of college and take care of him. Eds don't feel bad, he understands and still thinks so highly of you." She said.

"I know but it's just that it's when he told me that you were coming home that Christmas and you didn't, I was disappointed, and then it seemed like that's when stopped talking so it felt weird to keep coming by." He said making her sigh as she remembers how heartbroken she was that Christmas.

"Eds I wanted to come home that Christmas to see him and you but something happens that not even knows about...he thinks I got sick but in actually I was....." She said swallowing the lump in the throat as she remember what had happened that Christmas.

"Hey...Hey, you don't have to tell me if you're not ready..." He said squeezing her hand.

"No, you deserve to know why one day I just stopped calling and visiting which was really hard for me to do and I hate myself every day for allowing that to happen...Like I don't deserve to still have someone like you in life."  She said as the tears slid down her face.  

"Sweetheart look at me..... I can tell something happened to you but even if that wasn't the case for us drifting apart I wouldn't be mad because it was bound to happen but I'm going to always be here for you no matter what...... I love you, Serafina." He said making her eyes widen at his confession.

"You love me?" She asked quietly unsure if she heard him right.

"Fuck! That wasn't supposed to come out at least not yet." He said running a hand through his hair.

"Well if it's any consolation I've been in love with you since middle school." She said making him look at her.

"You have?" He asked her.

"I have I just didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to ruin our friendship and then as I thought about telling you that's when I got news of us moving so I decided to keep my mouth shut figuring it was too late to say anything but my feelings never died." She said looking at him.

The next she knows is that his lips are on hers after all this time, and boy was it everything she imagined it would be. They stayed like this for a few minutes with her finding their way to his until they had to break for air.

"God that was better than Imagined." He said leaning his forehead against hers.

"You imagined kissing me?" She mused as he rolled her eyes.

"Every day before and after you left.... you know me giving this bracelet as a way to confess my feelings without doing so." He said making her smile.

"I never took it off, because even when we drifted apart...I knew you were always there for me..." She said making him smile.

"Where does this leave us, sweetheart?" He asked after a few minutes.

"As much as I would love to jump into a relationship I've dreamed about for ages, I think we need to spend some time catching up and re-getting to know each other and if you don't want to do that then I understand." She said.

"Are you kidding me, sweetheart? I waited almost six years to tell you that I was in love with you, so I think I can manage to wait a little longer." He said giving her another squeeze and placing another kiss on her lips.

[gayandtrashy]

My @rtc-secret-santa-event for @bundlofcigars!

I did a writing that I'm calling "Hidden Holiday"

Here ya go!

The fire blazed in Ocean's home as she finished preparing for her holiday party. Celebrating two holidays during the winter herself she usually was defaulted to for the choir party. There were tastefully decorated sugar cookies, a menorah, a Christmas tree and a kinara. It was inclusive for all the choir and it was perfect.

The doorbell sounded five times as the choir slowly arrived. Everyone bringing the gifts for "Hidden Holiday" as Ocean decided it should be called. Slowly sitting around the fireplace, snacking on the food that was there.

"Okay everyone! I hope you are all enjoying yourself but it is now time for our main event! Hidden Holiday! I'll start, I had Connie. My gift is something I think she'll love" Ocean passed a basket with purple tissue paper pooling out of it in Constance's direction.

Constance removed the tissue paper, revealing a teddy bear with a choclate bar taped to the stomach. She gave a light squeal before setting the gift aside.

"Thanks Ocean! That bear looked so cuddly! Well, I had Penny and I know how she loves her doll so... I got her another one"

Constance handed a Raggedy Ann doll over to Penny who just held it in her lap.

"I had Ricky and I knew I probably shouldn't get them another cat. So instead I got them more comics."

She hands over a flat package with a ribbon tied around it.

"Their in protective sleeves don't worry"

Ricky let the package rest in their lap, shifting it with their present which he swiftly rolled to Mischa.

Mischa ripped the wrapping paper open revealing an old-school Ipod. A simple note saying "I hope to find your music on here someday." Mischa blinked as he quickly handing a gift to Noel.

Noel delicately open the package revealing a set of VHS tapes all with old French titles.

"I don't know if you have playing method but these seemed like what you talked about."

Noel hugged the box to his chest before handing off the last present, now obviously for Ocean. Another flat package.

"I didn't really know what to get you but for some reason you like politics. One of my thrift stores had this and I thought you would like this."

Ocean opened the package revealing old United States campaign posters.

"These will be the perfect room decorations!"

The group held their gifts close. Relishing in the fact that they somehow had the perfect things. And they had each other.

"Anyone feel up to watching Elf?" Ocean asked after a minute, leading to a cheer from the group as they settled in close for the movie.

[the-bar-sinister]

Lucifer Was an Angel As Well (25956 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

Summary: Kristoph Gavin has woven a dark spell around all the people in his life, and now, Vera Misham, once the victim of his poison, is the victim of that same spell, too. Despite the best efforts of Miles Edgeworth to look out for Vera's well being and her future, the true 'guardian angel' that she takes advice from is the man who would have been her killer.

After corresponding with her for years from prison, and convincing her to join the police force as a forensic detective, Kristoph tells her that there's a way she can help him. That he can, with her word, become a prosecutor as community service, and perhaps stay his sentence. She can be his detective.

Jumping at the chance, like a fly diving into a spider's web, Vera becomes part of the web of intrigue and twisted relationships that Kristoph has made of his life, learning his secrets and his evils one by one, as he draws her ever closer into the darkness of his embrace.

Please mind the full AO3 tags!

-

August 29, 2028– 4:55 pm

After a few minutes of chatter, Klavier waved her out of the kitchen, and grabbing some snacks under one arm, settled with her in the spacious and tasteful living room. Here and there Vera could see the evidence of his occupancy, haphazard afterthought, stapled into a room that was tailor made for someone else. Old movie and rock posters had been framed and put on the walls, and Vera could see light spaces where other pictures had been removed.

Whoever's taste it was that had originally decorated the room, she didn't think it was Kristoph. The devil's taste was warm, and comfortable. The living room's appointment was sharp, and unyielding.

Klavier threw himself half over one armchair, draping himself like a coat over it with his legs crossed and hanging off the arm. Vera sat on a couch across from him, and Vongole immediately leapt up and curled up next to her.

Vera looked around the room with a soft hum. She liked the devil’s warm and comfortable style– she liked Mr. Klavier’s intentional and brash style too in its own way.

She did not like the original occupant’s. She could only imagine it must have been decorated to their father’s taste, from everything she’d been told. It made her feel small, penned in by the sharp and oppressive opulence.

She idly petted Vongole with a tilt of her head towards one of the posters. “Who’s that one of?”

"Hmm?" Klavier had been off in the distance again, but he turned his head when she pointed. "Oh that's Ziggy. My idol, ja? I wish I could pull off a look as good as that."

“I’ve never heard him.” She leaned on her hand with a subtle smile. “But I can see how he inspired you.” 

Klavier ran his fingers through his hair showing the shaved down part, and Vera saw that it was quite like the man in the picture.

"He's one of the real gods of rock," Klavier chuckled. "I pay my respects."

“I think you’re paying a lot of respect.” Vera nodded her head. She giggled softly. “you’ve got his hair. Are you gonna be going back to music, Mr. G— Klavier?” 

"Who can say?" he said with a little smile. "It pains me to leave it for so long. But… I don't know. A band is like a family, Fraulein, and my little musical family is in tatters."

The look on his face told her a lot about how he felt about his blood family as well. Klavier Gavin smiled as well as he could, but he looked like the most miserable man in the world.

Vera felt a sting of guilt. It’d been so long since they’d really talked, and she couldn’t seem to help but remind him of things that hurt.

She bit her lip, scratching the dog’s head thoughtfully. 

“I heard some about that from Trucy…” she murmured. “Hey, Klavier?” 

He cocked his head, giving her the same kind of probing look she's seen his brother give. "Ja, fraulein?"

She opened up her pad on her lap, and began to sketch as she often did when her nerves rose up inside her.

She looked up at him with a smile. “Ah…family is…difficult. I know that too. A musical family or no…” 

He pushed his hair out of his face and smiled. "Ja, it's true. And I have someone in jail from both families. Fate plays jokes like that, I suppose."

Vera’s fingers tightened on her lap “Mr. Kristoph and…and Mr. Crescend, yes?”

She only knew the case details of that fateful serenade. The details she’d gleaned from the information passed on to her that made their way into her work. She mostly knew that it had hurt Mr. Klavier deeply. 

"Ja. We were best friends for a while, I thought. But it turns out I did not know him at all." She watched him turn his head away and take a sip of his soda. His fingers played on the neck of the bottle like fingering a guitar. "I think maybe I am a bad judge of character."

Vera bit her lip. 

“No worse than anyone else…” She leaned a little towards him, balancing her bottle between her hands “he acted as a friend, so you saw him as one.” 

"Turns out he hated me all along," Klavier murmured. "Just a means to an end. But I shouldn't be putting this on you, fraulein. I beg your pardon."

Klavier's speech was funny to listen to. It was like he had three ways of talking all mashed up together. The german words. The casual, speaking and slang. And… polite and eloquent, just like her guardian angel.

“It’s okay,” Vera watched him with her wide, dark eyes. It was a fascinating combination, pinging different parts of her attention with every word. It was familiar, reminiscent, yet distinctly different…intentionally different. She could only imagine he affected the German and casual slang to differentiate himself from his brother.

She sipped her soda. “You look like you could use someone to talk to…and I make an excellent angel on the shoulder."

"An angel, fraulein? I'm afraid I haven't done anything to warrant a visit from a creature like that." He smiled, winding his fingers through the length of his hair. "I'm happy just for a friendly ear. But it's you I should be listening to! You have a big change coming up.."

Vera nodded slowly. 

“I do. I’ve been living on my own for a while…but I’m going to be in a dorm in the barracks and everything. She raised her thumb to her lips. “Learning , trying to be stronger…”

"I think you're doing a very good job," he said with a smile. "It's brave of you even to try, fraulein. Police academy will throw you right into the deep end of the world…"

She chuckled softly, almost biting her nail again before she stopped herself. “Part of me is a little worried I may drown.” 

"You have lots of people watching out to make sure that doesn't happen, I think. You can count me among them. I know prosecutor Edegworth has been looking out for you too."

Vera smiled behind her fingers.

“He has been…Edgeworth, Pearl…others… and you have been too?” Her eyes glanced up to look at him “I know with all your support I’ll make my dream come true.” 

"I'm glad, Fraulein." He smiled the same gentle smile she knew from her guardian angel, and for a moment he looked just like him. "But I have to wonder, how did you get the idea to become a cop of all things?"

Vera’s eyes lingered on his smile for a long moment, her heart skipping a beat, before she shook her head. 

“I…” She bit her lip. “Someone I care for had recommended it to me when I mentioned feeling…disillusioned and uninspired in my art.” 

"Prosecutor Edgeworth?" he asked. He cocked his head. Something in his voice told her he wasn't at all sure of his guess.

“N-no, but he was a little sad when I told him.” Vera chewed her lip. “..I think the idea of me going into law enforcement worries him. But I’m adamant.” 

"He's protective," Klavier chuckled. He twirled his finger in his hair thoughtfully. "Pearl Fey, then? I heard she's going to be doing the same thing…"

“Pearl and I have been talking about it for a while…we even planned to become roommates.” It wasn’t a lie, but she knew the danger of confirming or denying too much. She danced around the subject of her guardian angel.

Suddenly the prosecutor's eyes sharpened on her like the gaze of a snake.

"Oh really?"

Vera nervously tugged at the braid in her hair, nodding slowly as she watched his eyes. 

“Really! She’s really getting into it…I think she’s going to be one of the greatest detectives the precinct’s ever seen…it’s inspiring.” 

"I expect it is," he said, smiling. HIs fingers played musically on the neck of his bottle again. "You're both wearing your hair differently too– but not the same as each other, ja?"

Vera shook her head. 

“no, not the same as one another. She’s cut it down really far…it’s handsome on her…very curly.” Vera tilted her head, the fringe of hair over her eyes shifting. “I couldn’t part with my hair…though I..I wanted to try a more mature style.” 

"More mature, ja," Klavier nodded. His gaze pierced her for a long moment more, and then he looked away. "You smell like him, you know. His cosmetics."

Even as her breath hitched in her chest, caught, she knew it was true. She'd taken his advice and recommendations in his letters.

Vera went pale, and her fingers tightened around the bottle with an audible crinkle of the plastic that caused her to jump.

“You can…can smell that?” she asked in a tone she realized was shaky. She cut herself off and nervously started to sketch again.

"Kristoph and I were very close," he said. It was the first time she'd ever heard him say his name. "And he was always going on about what he liked to wear. I wouldn't be able to ignore it if I tried, fraulein. And I have been trying."

He cocked his head again, looking back at her perhaps to gauge her reaction.

She’d started to shake as she sketched, falling silent once more as she often did when cornered and unsure.

She looked up at him through the fringes of her hair, very aware of the way her subtly painted nails caught the light as her pencil moved across the paper. 

Klavier was silent for a long moment, the only sound in the room was that of her pencil on the paper. Vongole, it seemed, was immune to the tense atmosphere.

Finally, Klavier asked, "Do you talk to him often?"

Vera’s brow furrowed for a moment, and she trembled against the couch before she added something to the sketch she was drawing.

She held it up…the rough image of an angel with wings outstretched and letters falling below into a rough sketch of a pair of long fingered hands.

She nodded slowly at Klavier with the barest ‘ah’ of a sound, all she could make– frozen up as she was.

He stared at the sketch, taking it in for another long, quiet moment.

He fell back in his chair, like a puppet with all his strings cut. "I'm sorry, Fraulein. I made you upset. I wasn't trying to do that."

She shook her head quickly, before she turned the page and sketched again. This time, it was a rough picture of a hug, and a ‘sorry’ in her elegant signature. 

He smiled a little and nodded. 

"Cat got your tongue. I understand. I'm sorry," he repeated. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot. It's… an instinct, I guess. Prosecutor."

She took a deep series of breaths before she smiled nervously. 

“...g-going to have to get used to that…as a detective.” She brushed her hair away from her eyes. “sorry..you just su-surprised me. “ 

He chuckled, looking away. "Ja, you will have to get used to it. But I didn't need to do it to you in the damned living room. I have no right to interrogate you."

Vera hugged her notebook to her chest “You’ve already figured it out.” she murmured quietly “so I’ll make my confession.”

She looked up at him with a nervous and shaky smile. 

“I’ve been writing letters to Mr. Kristoph since…since a little after I woke up, Klavier. He’s given me advice on ..on how to get out of my father’s shadow, and how to face the world…and been my companion in the written word.” She looked down at her lap, away from Klavier's face. “He's the one who suggested becoming a detective to me.” 

"Ja, fraulein," Klavier nodded with a sigh. "I was getting that impression. Can I ask a follow up question, liebchen?"

“Y-yes si-Mr. Klavier?” Vera’s fingers nervously tore at the corner of her sketchpad’s page.

He smiled at her and rubbed his face and neck awkwardly, looking entirely lost. 

“Fraulein– why? Do you have an answer to that, or did it just seem… natural."

Vera looked up at him. 

“Why…why did he write me? Or why did I write back…and take his advice?”

"The second one," he said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I have stopped trying to understand why he does things."

Vera chewed her lip thoughtfully. “I can’t …can’t say for certain why I started. He never apologized for poisoning me or utilizing my talent to…to disbar Mr. Wright, but…h-he’d always been so kind to me, so polite when I was younger…I just responded.”

She looked down at her sketchpad at the drawing of the angel .“...I’d always seen him as my guardian angel– or the devil watching over me, after all. He’d killed my father, but that freed me from his hold…even if it was meant to free me in a different way. So I’d written back…and after that, he responded…twice a week.”

She tightened her grip on the edge of the paper. “His advice was always sound, always polite and sweetly spoken, and– and It’s only ever put me in a better position to face the world. I took it because despite everything I trust him…and…and I …” 

She couldn’t finish the sentence, her eyes glancing shyly away from Klavier’s face. She couldn’t let him know how deeply she found herself caring for the devil who’d hurt him. 

Klavier never took his eyes off her as she spoke. A few times his lips moved, as if he was repeating something that she'd said, but soundlessly.

Finally he drew a deep breath, and she heard the shudder in it, and he smiled. "Well, fraulein, that certainly makes sense in its own way. He does give very good advice. And it makes him seem so very trustworthy…"

Vera raised her painted nails to her lips, barely resisting the urge to bite them as he watched her. Her heart beat too fast in her chest, she almost felt faint as she responded.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Klavier.” Her thumb rested against her lips as she dropped into a murmur. “...I visited him today.” 

"Is that why you came to see me?" There was a plaintive tone in his voice, but Vera couldn't tell which answer he was hoping for.

Vera curled slightly into herself. 

“...I wanted to see you. I’d been so busy lately, and so have you, that I had missed our lunch outings.” Her fingers tore the edge of the paper into strips. “...but he was the one who suggested I visit you…so we could keep one another company.” 

"Was that what he said?"

Vera nodded as her teeth grazed the pad of her thumb. “Yes.” 

Klavier sighed and sat up properly in his chair for the first time. The posture made him look even more like his brother. "I'm sorry, Fraulein, I do not mean to make you so nervous. I'm…. also nervous. I'm all wound up."

“I can tell… I know it’s probably a lot, and..difficult, for you. Your brother is a complicated subject.” She chewed on her lip. “...I think he thought we could maybe bring one another comfort while…while s-situations changed.” 

"A very complicated subject," he murmured. "Fraulein… forgive me another prosecutor question. I understand how your situation is changing– but what you imply is something about my own, too… ja?"

“In a fashion… Kristoph has asked Prosecutor Edgeworth if he can take the same sort of deal that Simon had in Prison. Working– working in the courtroom while he lives out his sentence. So…so you may see him there, if it’s approved.” 

"Scheisse…" he hissed. "Are you serious? No. No, of course you're serious, that's a stupid question."

“I ..I am serious. And it may stay his sentence, possibly. I asked if I could be assigned to him,” she continued in a quiet voice. “Once I graduate.To watch over him.” 

Klavier rubbed his face and took a breath. "Of course you did. He really has you under his spell, ja, fraulein? He… can be like that. So you want to save his life. You want to watch over him."

“Under his spell…” Vera murmured it thoughtfully as she brought her thumb to her lips. “I suppose you could say that…the devil has his ways of ensnaring a soul…”

She tilted her head with a frail smile. “I want to save him from execution like he saved me from my– ” her father, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “My situation. I want to be the one to watch over him…for a few reasons.” 

Prosecutor Gavin seemed to know anyway. He shook his head.

"You mean he saved you from your father, don't you?" He bit his lip, and then took a long drink of his soda, finishing it off. "Mein gott. So even though he nearly killed you as well, you feel like you owe him a debt."

Vera nervously raised her drink to her lips and took a sip before reaching out to pet Vongole who happily leaned into her pets, changing position for better access..

“I do mean that, Mr. Klavier…” She kept her eyes averted down at her lap. “It’s true I almost died. I’ll always remember that second of pain before the poison took me, but I can’t hate him for it. A debt, I ..suppose so. He’s done a lot for me, even behind bars.” 

"Ja… I can imagine it feels that way, fraulein." He leaned back in his chair, his arms less crossed than they were protectively around himself. "He can be like that. He makes himself seem very… protective. And you are right– his advice is very good. Nine times out of ten."

“Nine times out of ten…” Vera murmured, before looking up at him. His posture, his tension– she was pretty sure she knew the root cause. 

"The tenth time will seem like very good advice at first, too, fraulein. But let's remember where taking his own advice got him."

“Prison.” Vera bit her lip with a glance up at his eyes. “I know you’re worried about me being…manipulated, or led astray…” 

"Or betrayed. Or discarded. Or used." He agreed, counting on his fingers. There was a heat in his voice but it wasn't directed at her.

“He’s done it before…?” Vera asked with a quiet tone. “...has he done it to you?” 

He spread his hands. "What do you think, fraulein? You know about his crimes. Yes he used me– he manipulated me, and used me to disbar Phoenix Wright when I was barely yet a man."

Vera shifted on the couch with a quiet nod 

“He did…it was a cruel manipulation that had a ripple effect felt even today. And it wasn’t kind to you.” 

"It was not, liebchen, it was not kind at all. He did not consult with me on his doings. And why would he? By that point he had already purchased your forgery and was plotting to kill you." Klavier shook his head. "I'm sure he knew I might be persuaded or bribed to do some things– but not murder a child."

Vera’s fingers wound together on her lap, just over the neck of the bottle she held between her knees. 

“It’s not in your nature, and it was a hard thing for him to explain away…so you knew nothing.” she murmured. “...that sounds like the devil’s work, Mr. Klavier.” 

"Ja, fraulein. You speak the truth. My brother has much in common with the devil. His sweet face and his sweet lies being chief among them."

Vera brushed her fingers through her fringed hair, nodding. 

“I’ve known him as the devil since the day we met…but…” She smiled wistfully. “The devil was once an angel, and by that token, even the devil can be a guardian angel despite his sins. Even the lies hold a measure of truth..”

"Supposing you can tell the lies from the truths, sure, fraulein. But then you would be some sort of fairytale hero." He sighed, and did the same as she, toying with his hair.

She laughed with a shake of her head. 

“I…I know I’m nothing like that. I’m just a girl who survived an atroquinine attack. Just a former artist.” Her fingers tightened around one another. “But I know he’s been as much the devil on my shoulder as he has been my guardian angel…and taking his advice has eased me out of the house and into the world I wasn’t born to have been a part in.” 

"I can't say that's a bad thing," he murmured, leaning back in the chair and spreading himself out again just a little bit. "That's good… that you've been getting out. But surely you didn't need his advice for that? With Mr. Edgeworth, and Pearl and such?"

“They were a fantastic help,” Vera smiled at him. “They always have been. The same with Trucy…and even sometimes Mr. Wright.” 

She twisted the braid around her fingers. “But even long before them…he’d been looking out for me. And when I thought he’d discard me after the trial– he wrote again, even if it bore no immediate benefit to him.” 

"No immediate benefit," he murmured in echo. "But look what it's gotten him now. My brother knows how to play the long game, liebling. I have watched him play it."

Vera put her hand to her chin. “The long game…so you think this has all been by design?” 

"Ja, fraulein, that would be my guess." He wove his fingers together thoughtfully, his voice tense. "Maybe not this specific scenario, but you can see how it would be useful for him to have his own victim speak on his behalf? For parole hearings. To speak on his character. It looks good and my brother is very good at looking good. It's been years, you say. But let me tell you about Phoenix Wright."

Vera knew all about Phoenix Wright. His disbarment had been a tale woven in the fabric of her own work, her first original work of fabrication ever made– and far from the last. Her photographic memory captured every detail garnered from the trial, the papers, the video evidence and the years since.

She knew Kristoph Gavin had played ‘best friend’ to Phoenix Wright for years only to have destroyed him and pinned the blame for the murder of Trucy’s father on him. Then to be caught in a game of forged evidence and manipulation.

More than almost anyone save likely Klavier, she knew the long games Kristoph Gavin could play and the gambits he could make. Every kind word could be a lie.

That didn’t make the ache in her heart any less real. It didn’t change the fact that she wanted her guardian angel nearby, or that she wanted to help him never make the same mistakes that led him to prison again.

It didn’t stop the fact that she loved him. But how could she explain it to Klavier without sounding like some lovesick kid on the path of willful self destruction like a wandering lamb?

“If you want to, Mr. Gavin.” she murmured quietly. 

"I can see it in your eyes, fraulein," he said, as if echoing her thoughts. "I can smell it in your hair. You want to be his, ja? You want his affection, and his attention? For seven long years he gave these things to Phoenix Wright. They were lovers, you know."

That, Vera did not know.

Kristoph had never spoken of it.

Vera couldn’t help but gasp, even as her face burned hot and her breath grew short. He knew…he could tell. He understood her most secret wish– and it made her feel small and vulnerable.

“T..they were?” 

"Ja, they were, fraulein," he nodded. She saw a tender look in his eyes that might have been pity, or might just have been nostalgia. "They dated. I won't sugar coat it for you, you are an adult now. They fucked. They had a relationship. In private of course. Such things are not considered above board in our society. But if you don't believe me, you can ask Trucy Wright."

It wasn't surprising that Kristoph had never mentioned it in his letters. They had never even skirted the subject of love, or lovers. To an unfamiliar eye, all of their correspondence was simple and– like the term Klavier had used– above board. Vera’s face turned a deeper red. 

“Oh…my…” she murmured. “No wonder Mr. Wright seems so hurt and bitter..” 

"Ja, Fraulein," Klavier leaned forward toward her in the chair, his arms resting on his knees. "Listen to me, leibchen. My brother played a dirty trick in court to have Phoenix Wright disbarred– just for upstaging him! And then he played a funny game where he was the hero rooting for Wright all along. He voted against his disbarment. He became his friend. His lover. He was like an uncle to Trucy. And then look what happened."

Vera’s fingers tightened on her lap. 

It was true, of course. He’d turned it all away in what seemed to be an instant. He’d betrayed all those connections, Trucy, Phoenix Wright, his brother– for reasons Vera couldn’t fathom. He’d poisoned her with her favorite things in the world.

But she still couldn’t bring herself to turn away from him.

“Don’t you wonder–” she whispered, “why he’d do it?” 

Klavier's jaw was tight, and he looked away from her. "Every day, fraulein. Every night. Every moment. I do not understand it. He was my brother. I admired him. He had practically raised me. Sometimes he could be cold, cruel even, but I thought he cared, Liebling. I do not– I don't know why he would just throw everything away."

The subtext was clear. What Klavier was really saying was I don't know why he'd throw me away.Vera’s fingers twisted gently against one another , and she looked up at him with tired eyes. 

“And I’d like to know why he sought to poison me one day and guide me the next.” She bit her lip. “...there’s reasons behind everything he’s done, Klavier. I don’t know them… but I want to.”

Her hair had fallen back into her face as her breath shuddered along with her shaking shoulders. “...If he really wanted to throw you, or everything else away– he wouldn’t have asked me to come see you. What does he have to gain from– from telling the person you’re sure he’s manipulating to come to one of the people who’s most suspicious of his actions?” 

Klavier shook his head, his pale hair falling around his face. 

"I don't know, liebling. I don't know. My brother thinks five steps ahead of everyone else. There may be something to gain in him sending you here. He knows I will not tell his secrets to the world outside, even now. 'This stays between us, Klavier', 'this is a family matter, little brother, it's our secret'. He knows I won't tell on you– and perhaps he has something to gain by making me see your perspective. Making me question him again after I've shut my heart to him."

Klavier's breaths were shallow now, and his eyes were distant. He was living somewhere else for the moment, somewhere else in time.

“I’m sorry, Klavier.” Vera murmured softly and she traced her pencil over her sketchpad after opening it near Kristoph’s furry old companion.

“You’ve spent a long time shutting him out, haven’t you? I’m..I’m sorry to have come to your home and to bring doubt to your door.” She looked up with a shaky smile. “I– I know everything you’ve said was true. But I can’t help the way I feel..”

She held up her sketch, the image of a hug on it. “...do you need one? I don’t want to distress you.” 

"You smell like him," he murmured. It seemed apropos of nothing at first, then he held out his arms. "Come on then, I won't say no to a hug, fraulein. It's a powerful medicine."

Vera shifted off the couch, and placed the drink down before she hurried over to wrap her slender arms around Klavier Gavin in as firm a hug as she could manage, practically falling in his lap.

“It is.” she murmured. “...I could use a hug too.” 

"I'll just bet you could, Fraulein," he huffed a hollow chuckle and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, giving her a squeeze.His chest expanded and his breath shuddered as he held her.

She took soft, shaky breaths of her own as she let her head rest against his chest. 

“You look a little like him when you smile,” she murmured. “That time…in the court room when I first saw you in person, my heart nearly stopped.” 

"Ja," he nodded. "That's why I cut my hair."

He leaned his chin against the top of her head, and drew a long breath of it, probably smelling her shampoo.

It was his shampoo– he’d told her which brands were best, which cosmetics were worth owning. The best nail polish in its crystal bottle, the best shampoo to accentuate the gentle curls of her hair, the best soap to keep her skin soft.

Lotions and mascara and lip gloss. It was no wonder she smelt like him– and yet Klavier didn’t seem to mind.

She held him a little tighter. “It ..it looks nice on you, Mr. Klavier.” 

"Thank you liebling, I–" he broke off and shook his head, still holding her. "There is nothing I can say that will dissuade you from your course, is there?"

“Do you wish there was?” she whispered against his shoulder. 

"I don't know, fraulein. I don't know my own feelings," he said. "But if there is not– if you mean to continue then there is one thing that you must understand at all costs."

“There isn’t… I'm on this path and I can’t be dissuaded from it.” Her eyes closed tightly. “I’m listening, Mr. Klavier.” 

"There is one lie you must never believe, liebchen," he said, stroking her hair as she leaned on him. "You must never believe him if he says that you are the only one. In his heart. in his bed. In the strings he pulls.In his web. There will be others. There are always others."

Vera was quiet for a long moment as she leaned into his hand. 

There are always others. Other’s under his sway like she knew she must be, and as he said– others in his heart and in his bed.

Her fingers tightened against Klavier, her breath held as the thought turned in her mind. Was she jealous? Scared? Fear was a familiar feeling to her, and it didn’t taste the same on her tongue. Jealousy…that was utterly unfamiliar though. How would she even know it if she felt it?

Or was this something else? Her painted nails curled against Klavier’s shirt as her eyes stared blankly into the darkness of their mingled shadows. Did she really care if there were others? As long as one of the strings binding her to his web was hers alone? As long as a piece of him was hers just as a piece of her, a large piece of her much to her worry, belonged so clearly to him?

Did the affairs of others matter, if she got the attention, the affection she craved and could share the affections that swirled inside her before they tore her apart?

She didn’t realize she’d started to murmur. “...promise…I promise..”

"Good girl, liebchen," he murmured, petting her hair. "I am sorry to hurt you this way, but better you hear it now than later. You can steel your heart the way that… others could not."

She nuzzled against his hand, her heart skipping in her chest. 

“...better now than later…I promise, I’ll..I’ll steel my heart for anything. In honor of them.”

Her eyes closed as the thought of just who– and how many– Klavier meant flashed through her mind. Did he mean himself? Mr Wright? People she’d never even met?

“My heart was strong enough to survive the poison,” she murmured “It’ll be strong enough to survive this path.” 

"So far, like the poison, perhaps you are the only one," he sighed. He hugged her tight, and then released her, finally. "You're wondering who I'm speaking of."

She nodded, still sitting quite close to him. Her next words came out in a soft murmur as he made room for her to sit in the big chair with him.

“Perhaps… I’d like if I wasn’t the sole survivor." She brushed her hair from her eyes “but I’m curious– despite theories.”

He put his arm around her shoulder. "Hah! Tell me your theories, fraulein."

She leaned against him. “...so far…Mr. Wright and… yourself, Mr. Klavier.” 

Klavier turned immediately scarlet and she felt his body tense against her. He looked away, running his fingers through his hair.

"What a thing to say, liebling." He hesitated, but his voice, and his movement, told her everything she needed to know. 

Vera nodded slowly. “...I’d thought so.” 

Kristoph Gavin, her guardian angel– her devil– had claimed the soul and body of his own brother as well.

He tugged on the strands of his hair still looking away from her. "So you've guessed the family secret. Ja, fraulein. You may count me among that poisoned number. I know it's a secret you won't tell– because it would ruin him, and you love him."

“I do…with all my distorted heart.” She looked up at him with her dark eyes starting to water. She bit her lip. “I won’t tell– not just for him, but for you. Our secret…shared. I’m sorry he hurt you, Mr. Klavier.”

"So am I, liebling. And I am sorry that he will hurt you, and that I cannot stop it from happening." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "The other that I know is Apollo Justice. There may be others. There probably are. Justine Courtney, perhaps."

There were rumors about Apollo Justice– and Klavier. The tabloids had sometimes tried to paint them as boyfriends.

She flushed a little deeper, brushing her hair over her ear. 

“...Apollo…” 

The name brought a little flash of joy to her, a sparking of warmth at the man who’s defense saved her life quite literally…of course he was also entangled in this.

Wrapped up in Kristoph Gavin’s web along with her.

“I see…and Miss Courtney as well?” her eyes downcast thoughtfully. “Fellows in the devil’s gaze.” 

Klavier waved his hand. "Courtney I only guess at. I know they were lovers in school. I have no idea if she's still in his sway. Who can say? But trust me when I say there are others, and those we've spoken of I have no doubt–"

He paused, and shook his head.

Her fingers darted to his shirt, winding against the fabric as he took a deep breath. "...I..I see. But..please, no doubt that what?” 

He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged, helplessly. "I have no doubt they have been his in the past. And might be again if you let the tiger out of his cage. Who knows. You know the spell my brother casts."

She nodded quietly. 

“I know it intimately well, sir. But I…I’m sorry that I feel I have to let him out.” Was this a plea for forgiveness? Or a hope that he’d understand. “I hope…I hope the spell doesn’t draw any of them who want to truly escape it back in. But I have to…I have to become his…his detective. At the very least.” 

At that, Klavier chuckled. "A detective for him? Or a detective of him? Both, I expect, ja? If you solve the mystery of Kristoph Gavin, fraulein, truly you will be the greatest detective of all time."

She giggled, she couldn’t help herself. 

“Both. I want to understand him, Klavier. I want to understand every side of him, masks and all. I want to watch over him. I want to explore my talents in a way that makes me feel like more than poppa’s tool…but I want to do it in service of solving mysteries by…by…his…his side.”

"You picked the right career then, fraulein– or let him lead you to it." He smiled sadly, and pushed his hair out of his face. "As a detective, I expect you'll always be useful to him."

What was it Klavier had called himself in the kitchen? Charming and useless? Charming and useless. She could only imagine that was how he must have felt when his brother used him to frame Phoenix and cast him away. 

She bit her lip.

“I..I expect I will be…the blessing of always– always being useful.” Her hand reached up to touch his hair. “Mr. Klavier…?” 

"Yes, fraulein Vera?" he cocked his head, looking at her with his distant blue eyes.

She gave him her best smile, subtle and quiet as it was.

 “...I think you’re a pretty amazing person. Even if you say you’re useless. I can speak of my own experience and say you., you’re admirable. Kind– friend.”

He smiled back at her, and squeezed her shoulder. "Thank you, fraulein. Why don't we do something, ja? Something normal. Something fun. A game or a movie or something. Something to cleanse the palate of all this dark talk of poisons and spells."

Vera nodded quietly. "That sounds– ” she pressed her hand to her face to wipe away the last of her unfallen tears. “That sounds fun, actually.” 

Klavier immediately smiled more broadly. "Good. To me, too. I only have one more very little question for you on this black subject, and then we will put it away in the dark where it belongs, ja?"

“Alright, Mr. Klavier.” she said with an attempt to smile as well. “..I’m listening.” 

"If I speak to him– if–," he emphasized the word. "Do I have your permission to mention you, and that we spoke? I won't do so without your permission."

Vera’s eyes widened, and she nodded slowly. 

“You can. To him. Just don’t tell anyone else.” She put her finger to her lips. “Our secret, .please. But you can tell him. I think he already knows.”

He put his hand against his heart. 

"Our secret," he promised. "I am good at secrets, fraulein. I will tell him nothing he does not know already– and speak nothing that can be understood by another."

She hugged him again with a shaky laugh. “Thank you, Klavier!” 

He hugged her back– and stood up, tugging her up with him with strong arms. "Wonderful, liebling. Now, let's go do something fun. Do you feel like stretching your legs, or sitting in front of a television?"

Vera felt, in a way, that she had been somehow let into the family.

She wondered if that was what Kristoph had in mind all along. She wondered if it was a position which was possible to escape.

Her arm tightened around Klavier Gavin as he helped her to her feet. As she was now, she had no way of knowing the twisting thoughts and complicated weave of Kristoph’s mind beyond only her inklings, guesses and twisted fascination.

Yes– she was certain that in this she’d been welcomed into the family. Absolutely certain that as he requested a game from Klavier Gavin that she was allowing the jaws of some great machination to close around her with a knowing smile.

For better or for worse, there may have been no escape at all. 

[cosmicbrowniefan]

Any Platonic Elmax headcannons? That possibly involve pranking Mike or something like that?

oh absoLUTELY. elmax my best girls here we go

these two know EVERYTHING about each other

they're not like an annoying "attached at the hip", but they can and will win any kind of trivia on each other

they know the other's favorite of everything, likes, dislikes, clothing sizes, phone number, sleep schedule, hopes, dreams, fears, you name it and they know it

honestly, it started as a competition between lucas and el of who knew max better

don't get me wrong, lucas is a PHENOMENAL boyfriend, but el just knows more

and he eventually accepts that, after doing a round of trivia with el and being like ????? i don't know max's favorite breed of shark wtf??????

(it's the megalodon btw)

when max gets her license they go on drives a lot and blast music and just talk about everything together, from people that annoy them, to their favorite movies, and everything in between

these nights are some of their best memories

so we know max helped el find her sense of style, but i think that's something el helps max with too

when max moves into the trailer park, she's really bummed about living there and about how small her room is

well, el notices this, and makes mike, will, and dustin take max out for the day

and when max gets back to the trailer she walks into her room to see that el and lucas had decorated the whole place to be specific to her

her favorite movie, music, and comic book posters scattered the walls, all of her things put neatly in bins of her favorite color

she just. malfunctions bc wow. she has the best friend and boyfriend in the world

one of the things el loves learning about (and max loves teaching her about) is holidays

specifically. april fools day

imagine the "welcome home dustin" surprise/disaster from season 3 but like. to every single person they see for the whole goddamn day

el obviously makes a lot of things float/levitate/move to freak people out

and that works for people who don't know she has powers

(aka she uses that on bullies a lot)

but she actually works on being able to talk and function while making something move/float, and as long as she wipes her nose beforehand, it'll look like she's not doing it

cue scene:

mike, at the kitchen table. he barely glances up as an apple begins levitating out of the fruit bowl. rolling his eyes, he calls out to the next room "el, that's not funny"

"what's not funny?"

mike jumps about a foot in the air as el appears behind him. her eyes widen and she gasps at the apple, "HOW IS THAT HAPPENING??"

mike gets out of his chair and backs up, beginning to panic. after a second, the apple spins and quickly chucks itself at mike. he barely dodges it. then, another apple rises up and does the same thing. and another. and another. mike just continues to be attacked with fruit, until:

"oh my GOD, you should've seen your face!"

and he turns to see max and el laughing their heads off

but also, max is a huge advocate for normal april fools day pranks

specifically dumb little things that just annoy people, like putting all of will's socks in the freezer

these are the jokes that make el laugh the most

literally adore their friendship SO much, thanks for this ask anon!

[jennathearcher]

sage, aloe vera, nutmeg! 🥰

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

Again, this comes as no surprise to anyone who has spent any length of time around me, but film <3 And also theatre and music of course but film is my whole world as an autistic person, always has been :3 It's hard to explain WHY I latched onto it so hard, but my parents have always affirmed that the first thing to REALLY hold my attention was Disney movies and that's kind of where it all started?

I mean, a part of this comes as self reflection that came with my love for the live action Little Mermaid, but it had me looking back at how the original animated film was my FAVORITE movie as a tiny child; but it really made me think about how even as a child, I saw so much of myself in Ariel and her obsessive, dare I say autistic, love for all things human even though she was limited in how much she could connect with that world herself <3 I'm sure there's a lot of other examples and it runs even deeper than that, but just the fact that film as a medium tells stories that both let you escape from the world and also let you see a part of yourself reflected back at you, even if you're not necessarily aware of it at the time?

And more than that, I add because of how movies like Hereditary and Bones and All and even Nimona made me reevaluate the possibilities of what film can be, it comes down to the fact that movies make you FEEL strong emotions and a really good movie should ultimately make you think to some degree and connect the dots as to the why and how, as part of the overall experience <3 just UGH, MOVIES!!!!!

aloe vera ⇢ what’s something (mundane) you really want to experience in life?

Dye my hair <3 It's something I've always wanted to do but never had the gumption or really gave myself permission to do, despite my parents finally having gotten over their reservations with it -- probably because my sister recently dyed her hair blonde and it looks fantastic :P I mean my mom also went blonde several decades ago but that's neither here nor there XD But I've always wanted to have red hair; again, going back to the Ariel thing, and other movies I adored as a kid like Anastasia :3 So maybe soon~

nutmeg ⇢ how’s your room/home decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on?

Oh my room is a cluttered nightmare, my sisters gently call my a hoarder :P But as my therapist points out, it's hard to keep your ENTIRE LIFE contained in one tiny room; especially as a collector like me XD But it's largely movie themed; I have posters up everywhere that I brought home from the theatre where I used to work, and I have all kinds of other stuff on display that I've collected and I'm very proud of; like my POP figures, charms, pins, art prints, dolls, plushies, and of course piles of books I have yet to read XD

Thank you so so much for asking, Rook!! <3