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rimmers-swimming-certificate · 5 years ago

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Red Dwarf Fanfic - Comatose (7/?)

Lister’s guitar stood resting against the wall, in the same place it had been yesterday, and the day before. The same place he had left it the last time he had played it, months ago, when he could still touch it.

Sitting on his bunk with his legs dangling over the side, Lister moved his hands as though he was playing, humming a tune to himself as he imagined the feel of the guitar in his hands; the weight of it, the feel of the smooth, painted wood, the pressure of the strings on his fingertips as he pressed the frets and strummed to coax music from the instrument.

He stopped. It was no good. Imagining it would just never be the same.

Lister sighed deeply, pulled his legs back up onto the bed, and lay down. He closed his eyes and tried not to think. Thinking at a time like this would be a bad idea. The best thing he could do when he felt himself sinking into despair was pick up his guitar and let himself get lost in the music.

He had never been prone to depression before he had been marooned in deep space. He was fully aware that he’d had his issues, but that had never been one of them. Since Holly had brought him out of stasis, however, he had found himself sinking into low moods with alarming regularity, even before he had been whacked over the head and woken up as a hologram.

He supposed it made sense. After all, he was the last human being alive, he was cast adrift in deep space, with very little hope of ever seeing Earth again, and he hadn’t touched a woman in three million years. Honestly, he supposed it was a miracle that he wasn’t a blubbering wreck rocking back and forth in the corner.

Most of the time, he could ignore the feeling; push it into the back of his mind and act like it wasn’t there. He could drown it out by making himself smile, finding the joy in what little he did have, and forcing himself not to think about what he had lost. If he pretended hard enough most of the time, it would go away.

But not always, and once he began to sink, he would often sink hard, and it would take time and effort to drag himself back up. And that was what he felt beginning to happen now.

It had been brewing for some time in the back of his mind, and right now, he just didn’t have the mental energy to fight it off. He couldn’t retreat into his usual coping strategies. He had always used his guitar to stave off the worst of the loneliness, his guitar, and a good curry, and now he couldn’t even touch either.

“Lister, falling back into old habits, I see,” Rimmer announced as he strode purposefully into the living quarters they shared. “Honestly, if I’d known that you were going to spend all your time lying around in bed, I’d have suggested we leave you comatose.”

Lister cracked open an eye and glared at Rimmer through it. “Very funny.”

Rimmer shook his head. “It wasn’t a joke,” he said.

Lister rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “Leave me alone, Rimmer. I’m not in the mood.”

Rimmer frowned at him as though he was some disgusting piece of gum he had found stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “Not in the mood for what, exactly?”

“This conversation, for a start,” Lister said. He wasn’t in the mood for anything, he wasn't in the mood to have to deal with Rimmer, he wasn’t in the mood to talk, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood to have to pretend like he was okay. Not now, when he was feeling less okay than he had in a long time.

Rimmer nodded. He looked himself over in the mirror, brushed down imaginary dust from his clothing, then turned back to Lister. “You need to get up,” he said.

Lister continued to stare at the ceiling. “I’m tired,” he said.

“No, you’re not. Well, you shouldn’t be, anyway. You only woke up a couple of hours ago.”

“No I didn’t,” Lister argued. He frowned, and turned to address a question out into the centre of the room. “Hey, Holly, what time is it?”

Holly’s face appeared on the viewscreen. “About 4.15pm,” she said. “Why?”

Lister turned back to Rimmer triumphantly. “See. I woke up three hours ago.”

“Oh, well done,” Rimmer congratulated him in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “And what have you done with your day so far? Achieved a lot, I imagine. Have you even got out of bed yet?”

“Yes!” Lister told him. Truthfully, as it happened. “I mean, only for a bit. I popped down to the medical unit to check on my body.”

Rimmer nodded. “How’s it doing?”

“Same.” Lister turned his head to look at Rimmer as he spoke to him. “Kryten says he's going to keep me informed, but I guess there’s nothing to tell, because so far he’s barely said a word about it.”

“No news is good news,” Rimmer said.

Lister shrugged. He wasn’t so sure about that, but he supposed that at least it wasn’t bad news.

“I don’t understand why you keep going down there.” Rimmer told him. “Surely it can’t be fun, seeing yourself hooked up to all those machines.”

“It’s not.”

“And it’s not like it’s helping anything. It isn’t like visiting a sick relative so they think you care. There’s nobody in there to score points with.”

Lister stared, disbelieving. “That’s the only reason you’d visit someone in the hospital then, is it? Point scoring? So they ‘think you care’? You genuinely wouldn’t give a damn if someone you cared about was sick in hospital?”

Rimmer shrugged. “It would depend on the person,” he said.

“So did you never go visit me then, before you hologrammed me? You never once swung by to check up on me?”

Rimmer folded his arms and looked away. “Once or twice. I didn’t make a habit of it.”

“No? Because Kryten told me you were there every day.”

Rimmer shrugged dismissively and suddenly appeared very interested in the wall at the other side of the room. “Yes, exactly. Once or twice a day. That’s what I meant.”

“Because you didn’t want to make a habit of it.”

The hologram scowled, then folded his arms. “Even comatose, Lister, you’re a better conversationalist than the Cat. Anyway, forget that, we were talking about you, not me.”

Technically, no. Lister had been trying to have a lie down on his bed. Rimmer was the one trying to talk.

“You’ve got to get up, Lister. Stop moping around and get on with your life. Otherwise what was the point in us giving you this hologram body, if all you’re going to do is lie in bed?”

Lister eyed him suspiciously. “Did Kryten put you up to this?” he asked.

“Kryten? No. Why?”

Lister shook his head. “No reason. So, go on then, what do you suggest I do? I mean, my options are a bit limited right now, if you didn’t notice.”

Rimmer gave him a look. “Yes, thank you. I’m well aware of the limitations of being a hologram Lister. I’ve been dealing with them for a good few years now. Maybe it’s time you stopped moping around and listened to me. You might even find that I have some vague idea what I’m talking about.”

Lister sighed.

“There’s loads you could be doing,” Rimmer assured him.

“Like?”

“Like? I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

Lister shook his head. He wanted to be left in peace. He had been perfectly fine moping around in bed. “Leave me alone, Rimmer,” he said. “I’m okay, honestly. I don’t need your help.”

Rimmer shrugged, and turned to leave. For one, brief, moment, he thought the hologram was going to do as he was asked. Facing the door, Rimmer stopped, and then turned back. “No,” he said. “I’ve had enough of this. Get up.”

“Rimmer…”

“Lister, you know the ship’s computer can take control of a hologram’s body, right? Holly did it to me, when he decided to play that ridiculous practical joke and pretended to be Queeg. It’s not very nice, and if you don’t want to learn that first hand, I suggest you get out of bed.”

Lister sat up and stared at him in horror. “You wouldn’t,” he said.

Rimmer stared back at him wordlessly. His expression said ‘try me’.”

Lister felt his mouth go dry as he imagined a total loss of control. A familiar feeling of claustrophobia began to grip him at the mere thought of it, but that would be so much worse than being trapped in a small space. To be trapped within his own body, unable to move except at the will of another person. He felt himself begin to break out in a cold sweat, and his heart, or the simulation of his heart, pounded in his chest.

“Don’t.” He slid down from his bunk. “Please don’t, Rimmer. Don’t you dare.”

“I wouldn’t.” Rimmer told him. He was staring at him in horror. “I… really I wouldn’t. What do you take me for? It was a joke.”

A joke. A joke? Lister took a deep breath and sat down so heavily on Rimmer’s bunk that for a moment he thought he was going to fall through it. He ran a hand over his face, then wiped it on his trousers. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Rimmer told him. “I didn’t mean to make you… whatever it is that’s happening. What is happening, by the way?”

Lister leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, he sucked in a slow deep breath and exhaled through pursed lips as he tried to chase away the rising panic. “Claustrophobic,” he said.

“Oh. Well I wasn’t going to make you lock yourself in a box or anything.”

Lister forced himself to look up and glared at Rimmer, who genuinely looked worried about what was happening. Lister took another slow, deep breath. “You’re a total smeg head, Rimmer. You know that, right?”

Rimmer sat down on the bed next to him. “It’s been pointed out to me,” he said. “On occasion.”

Lister nodded.

“In my defence though, I expected you to just threaten me back, or… I don’t know, maybe call my bluff or something.”

Lister sucked in and blew out another breath. “Rimmer, if you ever so much as think a threat like that again…”

Rimmer nodded. “I won’t,” he promised. “Got you out of bed though.”

“Yeah.” Lister sat up straight and rubbed a hand over his face again. He could still feel himself shaking, but he trusted that Rimmer wasn’t really going to follow through on the threat. He turned to look at Rimmer. “Any particular reason for that? Or have you just decided you don’t like people to be laying down?”

“I wanted to try to cheer you up,” Rimmer told him. “I smegged that one up, didn’t I?”

Lister couldn’t help it, he laughed at that. “Great job,” he said.

Without thinking, he touched Rimmer. A quick hand on his shoulder as he moved to get up, and he froze.

With his hand still on Rimmer’s shoulder, he stared at it in fascination. “Rimmer…” he began, but broke off.

Rimmer too, was sitting completely still, staring at Lister’s hand. His eyes were wide, and his expression impossible to read.

Lister squeezed, just slightly, pressing his fingers into Rimmer’s shoulder. He could feel the flesh and the bone beneath. It felt so real. Warm; human. The unexpectedness of it took his breath away.

Rimmer raised his other hand slowly. Hesitantly, he touched the back of Lister's hand. Through the fingerless leather gloves he was wearing, the touch felt feather-light, moving slowly across the back of his hand, tracing the shape of it. Lister watched, wanting him to press harder, but not wanting to break the spell of the moment by speaking.

And then, it was over. As quickly as if a switch had been pressed, Rimmer snatched back his hand, got to his feet, and bolted from the room.

“Rimmer, wait a minute!”

Lister was too late, Rimmer was already gone and by the time Lister had reached the door, he had disappeared around a corner.

“Smeg.”

He went back into the room and sat back down on the bed. He looked at his hand. He could feel the ghost of the unexpected touch. He touched his own hand, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t speak to that need for contact inside of him; a need that until that moment, he hadn’t even recognised.

He sighed. He didn’t get it, Rimmer had seemed to like it at first. Until he hadn’t. Lister flexed his fingers and shook his hand as though he could shake off the memory of the touch, but it was impossible.

Finally, he got to his feet. “Holly, do you know where Rimmer’s gone?” he asked.

(next)

#red dwarf #red dwarf fanfic #arnold rimmer #dave lister #holograms can touch each other #but then you already knew that #let's see what fun I can have with it now Lister's remembered that #my fic

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oonajaeadira · 2 years ago

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I’ll Never Fall In Love Again: Scene 6: What’s Mine Is Yours

Fandom: The Bubble

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: messy feelings, blurry lines.

A/N: I promise you that they’re stupid about each other and possibly always have been and just didn’t know it; hopefully that’s apparent now. Bear with them; there’s a mess to untangle. (Also, surprise, you get to see where the universe split and The Bubble didn’t happen...and maybe a little hint to why he was the way he was during that if it had...)

“Damn. I was really hoping to go swimming.” Standing with your arms crossed on a deserted beach with the Palais de Festivals at your back, you pouted out over the smooth white sand and the blue Rivera coastline. “How cold do you really think it is?”

Without missing a beat, Dieter shrugged before kicking off his crocs and peeling off the cashmere socks. He up took handfuls of his track pants and padded into the shallows, letting a swell move over his ankles. “Fuck. It’s cold. Maybe with a wetsuit or something, but I don’t think you’re gonna wanna get in that.”

“Ugh. What’s the use of coming to Cannes if I can’t swim in the Mediterranean?”

Coming back to take a seat and brush the sand off his feet, Dieter chuckled. “That’s probably why the festival’s in May. Not really peak tourist season. That’d be a mess.”

Continuing to pout, you plopped down beside him and took the opportunity to at least enjoy the view. Once he was done with the irritating business of brushing his feet dry and getting them back into their plastic finery, your husband of less than a month leaned his elbows on his knees and sat absently scratching his beard.

“That island out there?” He wagged a finger out to a green bit of land in the bay. “That’s the place where they kept the Man in the Iron Mask.”

“The Leo DiCaprio film? Ew. Why on earth did they let it out?”

That sent him rolling backward into the sand and the next few minutes were filled with several rounds of giggles that lapped and retreated between you in waves matching those of the too-cold Rivera.

It was so nice to be out of the States. After the wedding, everything got pretty noisy for a while. Paparazzi following you, Morgan calling you with more auditions in a week than you’ve had in the last year, late-night hosts deeming you some kind of angel for taking him on (“They’re targeting me, ‘Cakes. I don’t give a shit. Let it roll off. Easy to flush.”) Socials were lighting up, so Morgan set you up with a media handler.

“Just enjoy your honeymoon, kitten,” she’d waved you off with a tinkle of silver bangle bracelets.

“It’s not a honeymoon, M!” Under different circumstances you may have chastised her for teasing, but you were just too excited. “It’s THE festival! And I finally get to gooooo!!!!”

Morgan smiled, and raised her voice to cover your clapping and high-pitched noises. “Okay, okay, love. Just have fun and keep Bravo from making poor choices. Everything’s illegal there. And they don’t give a shit if you’re a celebrity. They’ll kick his ass.”

He’s not a dummy. He knows, you thought, glancing at him squinting through one eye up into the blue sky.

He caught you staring. “What.”

“Nothing. Did you get oranges and chocolates in your room? I heard some of the other cast got treats.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nope. Must be grand being an A-lister. No love for the bit-part players, I see.”

He rose up on his elbows, reaching into his pocket to find his sunglasses and slip them on his face before laying back down with a grunt. “Probably thought we were sharing. You can have mine, missus. What’s mine is yours. Except the champagne. That’s my reward for doing the damn panel tomorrow.”

“You got champagne too???”

A smile stretched over his face. “Okay. You can have one glass. ONE. I don’t need a repeat of the wedding night.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“The toilet was fizzing.”

The wedding night had been a bit of a blur, but not so much that you didn’t remember Dieter holding your hair. Wiping your face. Keeping the room from spinning by smoothing your forehead with his big warm hand. Helping you drift off to sleep with your head on his lap listening to a documentary on James Joyce he was watching. You dreamed in Gaelic. When you woke up in the morning in your crumpled dress to the pungent smell of weed, there was a mini banquet–every item on the room service breakfast menu–laid out in the middle of the enormous bed between you. And your new bedheaded husband in a big fluffy bathrobe demolishing a stack of pancakes, watching cartoons and laughing his ass off without swallowing first. You’d just laid there and watched him for a minute. Because he was cute. Your fake husband had his moments.

“Just the one, promise,” holding up two fingers in a girl scout salute and then finger-gunning them into his cheek. “I’m gonna need it. I’m glad you’re here.”

This time he didn’t stop at elbows in the sand, but sat all the way up. “You can’t possibly fuck this up. Enjoy the show, answer the one group question that gets tossed your way, don’t spill anything on your outfit, flash that pretty smile. Easy.”

“I know,” you stared out over the water to the Isle de Man in the Iron Mask. “Still.”

A hand came up and rubbed your back. “Aw, Babycakes. If you find a way to fuck up, I promise to fuck up harder and take the heat off you.”

You gave him a side-eyed smile. “No you won’t. You’ll just point and laugh.”

“Yeah, probably.” ________________

But it was exactly as Dieter told you.

You walked the carpet in a very understated, romanesque Sabyasachi dress, holding on to Dieter’s arm and hoping he’d take the bulk of the attention. But of course he played the proud new husband and showed you off, knowing full well that you were nervous, being your safety net as he purposefully dragged you through the deep end.

Beyond being well-received, you had totally forgotten the fact that you’d get to watch Fall of Timon for the first time on a big screen surrounded by a huge, enthusiastic audience. The final effects were gorgeous on a larger scale, done by the same studio that made 300 look so beautiful years before and you could feel the rapt attention of the audience as the epic battle waged on. It might have been overwhelming if you hadn’t had him right next to you to keep you grounded. Dieter squeezed your hand throughout your two shared sequences, and you jogged his shoulder with a whispered “fuck yeah” after his very dramatic death scene.

The standing panel afterward sped by without you having to utter a single word; the director and two stars–Davey and Dieter–blessedly taking on most of the talking. But it was still nice to have a swell of applause and a few whoops when you were introduced.

The afterparty was similarly overwhelming but easy, full of complimentary festival-goers and plenty of tasty French pastries–all of which you managed to keep off your dress. But after an hour, your feet were aching in your heels and the adrenaline was wearing off. You’d just barely sat down when Dieter appeared beside you.

“Officially bored. Wanna go pop that bottle? Turn in early and get some sleep before press junket tomorrow?”

“Oh my god, yes please.”

He offered his arm. “My ladybug.”

And you took it. “My lord of the flies.”

Once you’d freed yourself from your fabric designer prison he brought the champagne to your room. It only took one glass--combined with the excitement of the day, some lingering jet lag, a late-night French sitcom on the TV--and Dieter working out the cramps in your feet to knock you out.

You woke up in the middle of the night where you’d fallen asleep on your stomach with your head at the end of the bed. The TV was dark and he’d left you to sleep it off.

You simply turned and crawled under the covers…but on the other side, where he’d been sitting.

The pillow still smelled of him.

You slept smiling until morning. _________________

“Great. Perfect. That’s the shot. Kent? Can you mark that? Continuity please and thanks, Molly.” Annie pops her head out from behind her monitor and points a mockingly angry finger at you. “You. Here. Now.”

Handing the glass you’re holding over to prop management, you make your way over to your director. “Really? Called to the principal’s office again?”

“Because of you nailing this and giving me everything I ever wanted like some demented djinn, we are ahead of schedule. You up on scene 38? Because we can just continue with the sequence today, bang it out and scrap Friday.”

“Yeah, of course. Thanks, Annie.”

“Thank you. Craft has those little fig bars you like so much. Go fuel up. I’ll get you out of here in time for dinner.”

“You mean that I should get to them before you do and then they’re all gone.”

Her phone rings and she swipes the screen to answer, waving you off with a smirk, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The shoot has been going marvelously well, better than you could have hoped for. Dream project, dream director. Almost zero drama or incident, every piston well-oiled, a great crew–well, Kent can be a bit of a shit, but Annie’s a pro at making him feel important and still keeping him in his place. The woman is magic and you’re learning so much from her. That you’re only halfway through principal and she treats you like family? What god did you appease for this to be your life right now?

Even the surprise of Dieter whining at the craft services table and inspecting all the bananas is a welcome sight. “Who took the one with the sticker?”

It could have been much worse. After a couple of years amicably avoiding each other where your main irritation with him was his dodging the divorce papers (and his beef with you was your nagging him about it) you expected your time with him to be much more difficult.

But as he was during Fall of Timon, he was a generous scene partner. Supported your choices. Surprised you into genuine reactions. Challenged you to do your best work. And all it did was remind you of your vows.

You were having fun.

“Kent took the one with the sticker.”

He blinks at you before breaking out that goofy grin of his, you obviously surprised him. “Fuckin’ Kent.”

“Isn’t it your day off? Surely you can find better meal options elsewhere.”

“I did. Little Italian place in the warehouse district. Got a killer pesto.”

“Oooo. I like a good pesto. You’ll have to let me know where it is.”

“That’s the plan. Tonight? Dinner?”

The bottom drops out of your good mood. In the space of a heartbeat your blood is centrifuged in every single direction–the knee-jerk of animosity, excitement at being asked out, the slap of betrayal, red flags, his warm smile, that familiar feeling of home, heartbreak, lust–the sudden severity of the reaction adding shock and disorientation into the mix–

“Dieter, I…I want to–”

He cringes before you can follow up with an exception clause. “I won’t force you, I just…wanted…”

Your eyes don’t lock for long. Your gaze wanders the ample breadth of his shoulders as you regroup, collect all your emotions from their various compass points. No, Dieter. You never forced me to do anything I didn’t want to. Except stay in a marriage I have been all but begging to leave.

Well. Maybe you could use this as an opportunity to push the papers in a gentle way.

You tilt your head. Give him the what-am-I-gonna-do-with-you look. “I know you wouldn’t, D. That’s why I said. ‘I want to.’”

The look does its reliable job and melts him. “Amazing.”

________________

The Uber driver swears that Dieter looks just like that guy from Hunger Strike…that Derek Bravo fella. Dieter spends the entire ride talking to him about what a hack Derek Bravo is. Didn’t even do his own stunts. The driver tsks in shame, forgetting that Hunger Strike is a drama and there’s no action involved. You spend the entire ride looking out the window and silently choking on your laughter, slapping Dieter’s hand when he pinches your leg.

Once you’re out on the sidewalk you’re able to catch your breath. “Oh my god, you’re such a menace!”

“Maybe, but that Derek Bravo asshole seems to be a lot worse,” he grins, sliding a hand across your back to usher you through the door to the restaurant.

Thankfully there are booths in the quaint little establishment, with separators going all the way to the ceiling so that each table was like its own little nook, each one lit by a single votive on the white tablecloth, illuminating a canopy of dried grape vines over each one.

Were it a date, you might be irritated when he waves off the menus and orders two pestos and a bottle of wine. But it’s Dieter. He knows what you like and he likes treating.

Once you’re both situated, he leans back, smiles, and sighs as if he were sinking into a warm bath made of you. “Thanks for coming out with me.”

“If the pasta’s as good as you say, then thanks for bringing me.”

He asks you how the rest of work went and fills you in on an upcoming change he received for one of his scenes. The wine arrives and you’re almost a glass gone as you start in on your shared experience on set. By the time the food is served, you’re both roaring out how much you haaaaate Annie for being so brilliant, a wave of worship all but drowning the table and washing all other conversation away.

You hadn’t planned on a lull. But here it is. He’s right though; the pesto is outstanding.

“What’s this all about, D?”

“Hmm?”

“This. Dinner.”

He shrugs, shoving a spoonful of pasta into his mouth, giving it a couple of chews and answering through it. “Just thought it’d be nice. Old times. Give the energies a good clean before the big scene coming up.”

Ah. The sex scene. You’ve been living in unprofessional denial, avoiding feelings or examination of your own lack of experience in this area of your career. Dieter’s had a few, but it rarely comes up in your chosen projects. You just figured you’d be fine. At least you know Dieter well. If he’s going to be a jerk about it, then you’re confident enough–or at least Annie is–that you can act past it. But he’s not going to be a jerk about it. He doesn’t have it in him. You know he’s probably more nervous than you are. It’s a challenging scene and he doesn’t want to fuck it up.

“Yeah? Do our energies need that much cleaning? Has it been so terrible working on this project with me?” You toss it off as a joke.

“Babycakes.” His tone does not match yours, too much of a pleading aftertaste in it. “I just want us to be good again.”

Oh god. What does that mean? Nope. You shake your head and play dumb. “I think we are! Working with you again has been fun, you know we have fun. We are good, we’re fine. But.” Biting your bottom lip and giving him a cringing smile, your octaves climb, “We might be better…? If you finally sign those papers???”

Now he does match your tone, but seasons it with sass and irritation. “I don’t want to???”

You make him bear every second of your sigh. “So. I’ll ask you again then. What’s this all about?”

“You’re my best friend, Cakes–”

“I’m still gonna be your friend. Do you really think I’m not capable of–”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” His fist smashes on the table. The wine sloshes in your glasses. “You know what I mean. You know me. I don’t want to sign the papers because I. don’t. want. to. divorce. you.”

You give it a few seconds, play with the pasta on your plate. The outburst wasn’t terribly loud, but it was enough to gain half a hush and more than a few glances. “I do know you, D. I know you think you know how you feel but–”

“I know how you feel.”

This time it’s your turn to smash your fists, but you simply lean back and put them in your lap. Stare him down. “You. Dare.”

“No. No. I didn’t mean to insinuate…” He breaks, running his hands through his hair, digging into his eyes with the heels of his hands, growling a little in frustration under his breath. Then he comes up for air, tips back his glass in a long pull of wine and slumps forward on his elbows. His hands open and close, desperate, grasping at air as if he could drag your understanding where he needed it to go. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“What? Who.”

“Chelsea Seagate.”

You scoff. “The hell you didn’t.”

“I fucking swear.”

“Dieter. Everyone saw you leave together. Everyone saw you leave her house the next morning. You’re going to tell me that you spend a year not sleeping with anyone and then,” you avert your eyes, “all…that…happens between us and you’re not going to take advantage of the moment–”

But suddenly he’s up and sliding out of his seat–his spoon catching on his sweater and rattling to the floor taking some pasta with it–and fumbling over to your side of the booth, caging you in, fingertips eagerly, but gently, curling around your jaw, literally pulling your focus to him as if you weren’t already startled by his rushing you.

“I have been trying to tell you for two. Years. You are the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me and I know I fucked it up but you have to believe me, sweetness, that night I came back to L.A.? After the party? It was the best night of my life. Most of the time I just want to be numb and forget that feeling of constantly making decisions that either fuck me or fuck eveyrone else but that night? On the couch? It’s like…It’s like I finally found the eye of the hurricane. I’m like, this is my best friend and I love her. I love her. I love her so fucking much and she’s been here putting up with my shit the whole time!”

Oh god. It would be so easy to fall into him right now, especially with these puppy eyes he’s making and he’s breaking his heart open right here in front of you…. But you manage to pull back somehow, lightly remove his hands from your face. Calmly show him you’re willing to have this conversation now, in this very public place, but he’s going to have to keep his voice down and answer your questions.

“You really didn’t sleep with her?”

“No. We took a lot of pills. She passed out. I cried. Like, a lot.”

Now it’s your turn to hold his gaze, ask him the real question.

“Did you want to sleep with her?” His silence and terror tell you what he can’t bring himself to say. A sonic boom echoes somewhere deep down inside you. You ignore it, justify it, push it away. “I see. So. Same difference. But I don’t see how it really matters, D. It’s not like we were really married–”

“Yeah, well I was starting to think we were heading in that direction–”

“Then why in hell would you go off with another woman on the very night–”

“Because I thought you didn’t want me!”

Oh. Oh god.

Suddenly this is very bad. Not what he’s saying, not how you’re feeling, but that it’s happening here, in this booth, closed in physically by his body, reigned in by the public setting and oh god this slide is covered in motor oil. This is leading to a chemical explosion that Dieter’s not really known for controlling. Your eyes dart to the window and you lower your voice, barely hold back its desperation.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, D. I need to get some air. You’re going to let me get up and walk calmly out of this restaurant.” Anguish curls up on his forehead as he realizes that he’s making more mistakes and you place a hand on his chest, letting him know it’s okay, you just need an adjustment. “I’m going to go outside and take a right and walk slowly enough that you can pay the bill and catch up to me, but I’m not talking about this any more in here.”

He nods. Eagerly makes way for you.

The night is cool enough that being out of the dim restaurant and taking one deep breath instantly calms you. You’re only a block away when he catches up.

As you keep walking, he falls in step, following your lead.

And waits for you to begin.

“I thought you were together. She was going to film that Austen adaptation in Wales and I thought you took that Cliff Beasts thing to be near her. But then her film got delayed and you weren’t listed on your project anymore so I figured you stayed behind with her in the States.”

“No. I wasn’t with her. I didn’t even talk to her after that night except to take her out to coffee later and apologize.”

“That would be the pictures everyone was publishing.”

He nods painfully, maneuvering past that awkwardness to get to the point. “ I, ah, had a moment there. Like a crossroads. I was gonna do Cliff Beasts because I wanted the distraction and it was one of the only things filming during the pandemic. But, like, I looked down that path and it fucking led to madness. I missed you and I was so damn depressed about what happened and I would have to fully isolate for two weeks and then have nobody to talk to except a TikTik girl and a dinosaur franchise family that all hated each other. You know I couldn’t handle that shit. I would have gone insane.”

“Well where did you go then? I hope it was somewhere without phone coverage because you certainly didn’t think to call–”

“Rehab.”

This stops you in front of a storefront window hung with Asian silks, an Indian sari shop, the ghost light inside shining through the one red bolt among the golds and greens and throwing a pink glow onto him.

“What? Are you…serious?”

Now that he mentions this, you realize you haven’t smelled a stitch of weed on him during this shoot. No bloodshot eyes, no dilated pupils. No stumbling in late, no cheeky smiles to cover infractions. No quick “bathroom breaks” between shots.

He shrugs in the blushing light. “For the hard shit. Still get baked though,” he threw his hands out when you gave him a quick side-eye, “but ONLY real mild strains, real organic stuff they grow on goat farms and shit. And not when I’m working. Dries out my mucus membranes. Blocks my mental processes. Prefer edibles now. Got some in my room if you want…”

You give a dismissive huff and resume walking, much less hurried now. “Well…wow. I’m…I’m really proud of you, Deets. Do you…are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. I am.” He ambles beside you, hands in his loungewear pockets. “You really thought I was with Chelsea, huh.”

“Well, it was all over the socials. Someone updated your wikipage and it sat there for months without challenge. What was I supposed to think?”

“And you believe all that gossip rag bullshit?”

“Didn’t have any reason not to.”

“You. Who went through with a PR wedding.” He looks down over his shoulder at you with a glib expression.

Touche.

“I guess…” Your excuse is shy, exposing itself slowly. You haven’t actually heard the words out loud before tonight either. “I guess it was just easier to believe it. Like it seemed plausible and…it made more sense that you might be into her since you’d known her longer or since we hadn’t, uh…since I wasn’t on your level…like I failed stardom or something…”

This time it’s him that stops, scowling, his brows lowered as he holds your gaze.

“Then why didn’t you force me? You had your citizenship. You could have taken the papers to court and had everything dissolved in a few weeks.”

Above your head a few moths ping against the streetlamp you’re standing under. The circle of light frames you both, the center ring of your very own circus, you can almost hear the crowd gasping as your own heart begins to lose its grip on the trapeze.

But he’s waiting for an answer. And the show must go on. There’s nowhere to hide.

“I was...really hoping you would let go of me willingly. I wanted you to acknowledge that I was hurt and you were at fault for it. I guess I wanted closure. For a fake marriage?” You try to soften how pathetic you suddenly sound with an under-committed huff. “And...I thought that if you had to physically put your own name–your real name–on those papers, that would mean you’d grant me all of those things.”

Stuffing his hands back in his pockets and leaning back on his heels, he tongues the inside of his cheek in irritation. “Right. And why would you need that?”

You refuse to answer. What were you supposed to say? That you’d fallen for him and you wanted him to soothe the wound by showing that he cared? Did your ego really need that much?

The longer you stand silent, the more disappointed he appears.

“That’s what I meant when I said I know how you feel, Cakes.” Taking out his phone, he punches his thick fingers over the screen, then drops it back in his pocket. “Ordered us a ride. Two minutes away. I’m taking you home.”

Suddenly exhausted, you throw an arm around the lamp post and lean against it. He stands quietly behind you.

“If you knew, then why not just sign?”

He groans in discomfort. But then his answer is quiet. Quieter than you expect. “I thought I could fix it. I just needed you to listen. Guess I was wrong.”

No you weren’t wrong… I just…no. It’s too late for this be salvaged. Too much hurt. Don’t try.

“And you thought the best thing to do was follow me into one of the most important films of my career? When you knew how much this means to me? To come here and throw me off balance?”

“I just wanted to watch you shine, babe. Your work on Timon? C’mon. Earth-shattering. I loved watching you work.”

“Yeah? Not earth-shattering enough to get me an Oscar though. At least I don’t have to ride home alone this time.”

You can almost feel him flinch.

That one hurt both of you.

But now another thought breaks through, horrifying not in its intention but in its implication. His own Oscar… is that...part of the reason he’s here? Like some kind of karmic payback? Wait. Does he actually think he’s bringing weight to this project? Attention? Clout?

And with a stopping of breath you understand the possibility that he’s doing it to benefit you??? To draw more eyes to the project for you?

The gall. The fucking gall. The ego and the risk and the goddamn…sweetness….

Shit.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Yeah. Thanks. I know. Me too.”

A black SUV pulls up to the curb and Dieter opens the door for you. Helps you up and then situates himself next to you.

The driver is tight-lipped, doesn’t have the radio on. It’s a hybrid car so every red light is an ocean of quiet.

At one point, Dieter’s hand slides into yours.

At another, your head finds his shoulder.

Then he buries his face your hair.

“I’ll sign the papers if that’s what you really want.”

The light turns green and the city keeps slipping by.

“It can wait until after we wrap. No need to rush it during the shoot. We could get together afterward to do that and coordinate flights for press circuit at the same time.”

“I’d like that,” he mumbles into your hair. “What is this, peppermint?”

“Tea tree.”

“Oh. It’s good. Clean.”

“Like….clean energies?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just watches the city a moment.

“Yeah. Something like that.” ________________

One, two, three, four—plunk.

You were trying to make it to five. Four was the record. You could do better.

What a difference two weeks and five-thousand miles made.

Unlike Cannes, Seattle’s beaches had plenty of stones. The water was gloomier, less jeweled. Fog lay forgotten over the ocean as if the bay were overly embarrassed of its grey waves and was trying to stop you from seeing too far.

And unlike Cannes, Seattle’s festival was–

Nope. You hadn’t come out to the beach to think, best if you stuck to the stones.

One, two, three–plunk.

Damn.

“Hey! Hey! Soothsayer girl!” A festival-goer’s voice echoes up out of a memory from earlier in the day, calling out from behind the press lines on the carpet. “You’re fuckin’ awesome!!”

Craning your head, you’d tried to see around a camera to see where the compliment was coming from. “Thanks?”

“And hot! Too bad you’re stupid too. Dieter Bravo? That dickneck?”

The gasps and screams as four camera tripods immediately tipped over like dominoes, felled by the ribbon barriers as Dieter appeared from halfway down the carpet and plowed through them. Taking fistfuls of the person’s shirtfront, he just kept moving, backing the attendee through the crowd, shaking him, yelling–

“No! You don’t talk to my wife like that! You don’t fucking talk to her at all!”

Security stepping up. The look on Davey’s face. Your producers frowning.

Ugh.

Closing your eyes as you stood on the beach, you held some heavy regret at bay. What the hell had you gotten yourself into with this?

Sploosh.

“Shit. I don’t understand how this works.”

Somehow it felt both better and worse to have Dieter show up out of nowhere. He threw a few more stones, each one landing with a hard splash or a deep, tonal bloop in the water, and a bland curse from himself.

“Well, maybe start by not throwing overhand. It’s like you’re damning them to the sea.”

He shrugged, squinted behind his glasses, and just chucked a fist-sized mini-bolder at the next wave like he was spiking a touchdown football, producing a three-foot splash column. “I can see why you like this. It’s…therapeutic.”

“Dieter–”

“Sorry about this afternoon. I mean, I’m not. But I’m sorry to you.” Sploosh.

“And to Davey and Entertainment Weekly and that girl that fell over the curb?”

“Sure.” Splash. Bloop. Sploosh. “Well? Are you gonna say something? Curse me out? Did I harsh your vibe?”

You shook your head. “Did you get any treats in your room again?”

“Champagne.”

“Again? Fuck you!”

“You can have it if you want it! It’s the cheap shit. Europe-this-place-is-not.”

“It sure isn’t.” Thrusting your hand in his, you pulled him away from the shore. “One glass. HBO. Your room.”

“Okay.”

Together you silently crossed the beach, hand in hand. You could feel his eyes on you, a question behind them as you neared the parking lot. A few scattered people stood around, trying to be inconspicuous, but obviously popping curious phone shots of you both.

You gripped his hand tighter. Show ‘em.

“I’m just gonna crash there, if you don’t mind. My room smells like feet.”

His fingers folded more firmly around yours. “Whatever you want. What’s mine is yours, missus.”

“Even the cheap shit.”

“Especially the cheap shit.”

“Only the best from the lord of the flies.”

“Everything and anything a ladybug desires.”

“I want your green bathrobe too.”

“No.”

______

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

#i'll never fall in love again #the bubble fanfic #dieter bravo #the bubble #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader

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procrastinatingnerd · 3 years ago

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Hi everyone! So this was my first time taking part in the @osemanversebigbang but I had so much fun!! I can't wait to read everyone's entries! 💜

Title: Angel Rahimi And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Lunch Break

Characters: Angel, Juliet, Rowan, Jimmy, Lister, Bliss, two of Angel’s future uni friends (OCs).

Spoilers? Minor spoilers of important events in “I Was Born For This”.

Word Count: 3.6k

Ships: Bicci, one joke about Juliet/Rowan.

~Joan of Arc (Probably)

“I am so fucking tired”

“Right, time’s up, put your pens down.” The exam officer says from the front of the room. I scribble one last sentence before my hand gives out, and I all but throw my pen onto the desk, sighing as dramatically as I can. This week is a fucking nightmare. Exams and assignments are the piss. Fuck uni, I’m ready to drop out. Or drop dead. Either works, honestly.

As I leave the exam hall, I walk past some people from the students’ union. They’re handing out flyers for the Christmas ball next week. My housemates are all planning on going, but my friends and I planned our present swap for that night, so we’re going to spend it eating a fuck ton of snacks and watching the cheesiest Christmas films we can find. I can’t wait, I bought them each a bag of their favourite sweets from the American candy shop, it's going to be so much fun!

But that’s next week. Right now, all I want is to sit at a table that doesn’t have an exam paper on it, and eat something very greasy and very unhealthy. There’s a pizza place just on the edge of campus, run by some of the culinary arts students, and they make the best sauce ever. It’s pretty cheap too, which makes it a favourite for most people, especially at the end of a semester, when everyone’s bank accounts are running low.

I have about an hour until I need to be back in the exam hall, so I take full advantage of the outdoor seating and collapse into a chair after ordering. My pizza is brought out to me not long after, and I breathe in the smell. Nothing has smelt more gorgeous than the slices sitting in front of me. It’s a surprisingly warm day, for December at least, and for a moment, everything feels calm. I can hear a bird singing in a tree somewhere, other students are hanging around campus, most with their noses in their phones or in textbooks, and I actually let myself relax for a bit. I’ve done all the revision I can for this next exam, and I’m in desperate need of a break. I deserve this.

I pick up my first slice of pizza, and bring it up to my mouth. As I’m about to take a bite, however, my phone rings. I put the pizza down with a sigh and answer the phone without looking at who’s calling. Mum probably sensed I wasn’t doing any work, and is calling to check up on me.

“Hello?” I say tiredly.

“Angel, hi! Is this a good time??” I grin at the sound of Juliet’s voice.

“Hell yeah, it’s a perfect time! What’s up?”

“Wait, you don’t know why I’m calling?” Juliet says hesitantly. Shit. What have I forgotten now? I know it’s not her birthday. Wait, is it mine?? I swear exams rot your brain, have I actually forgotten my own birthday?

“No…?” I ask after internally monologuing for way too long.

“Oh my god, you don’t know??” Juliet screeches in my ear, “Angel go look at your phone, it’s urgent!”

Now very concerned, I put Juliet on speaker and, for the first time all morning, actually read the notifications filling my lock screen. I open the Twitter news one, and my mouth drops open in shock.

“Holy shit.”

On my screen is a news article with a headline that reads, “THE ARK’S JIMMY KAGA-RICCI AND LISTER BIRD’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP EXPOSED”, and just below it sits a large photo of Jimmy and Lister, standing outside a pub, kissing. I don’t believe it.

“Holy fu- Hold on a second. Mate, isn’t that the pub by Piero’s house?!” I say, bringing my phone as close to my face as I can, as if that’ll help me see better. There’s a loud shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and then I hear a gasp.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Juliet says. “Rowan said they were going on holiday, but I thought he meant abroad or something.” I smile at that. Ever since our little jaunt to Kent last summer, Juliet and I have kept in touch with the boys. We even have a group chat now; us and them and even Bliss is in it. I’m so glad we stayed friends.

At first, Rowan was really quiet, and if he did speak he and Juliet would almost always end up arguing, but they’ve been getting along quite well lately. I’m not saying I ship it or anything, I’ve learnt my lesson there, but I have to say, fangirl-to enemies-to lovers would make a wicked fanfiction trope.

“Did you see any of this coming?” Juliet continues. “Surely Jimmy would have said something to you?”

“He said he was dating someone, but didn’t want to give details because they were taking things slow. Well, that and that celebrity phone hacking scandal freaked him right the fuck out, remember?” I say.

"That's

right, he stopped talking on the group chat for like two weeks, didn’t he?” Juliet giggles back. “Well, nevertheless, I’m happy for them. They’re cute together.”

“Yeah, they are.” I grin again. “Oh my god, poor Rowan though! I’d hate to live with a couple, especially a new one! It’d be nauseating.”

“Oh I know, right? And imagine what’ll happen when they have their first fight!” Juliet gasps again. I shudder at the thought.

“I’m muting the group chat when that happens.” I joke.

“Not a bad idea.” Juliet laughs back, then pauses. “Oh, Angel, I’m sorry I’ve got the get going, but do you want to skype later?”

“Yeah, no problem! I’ve got a revision session at 6, but I should be free by 9ish?”

“Sounds perfect! See you then!” Juliet says, and with that, she’s gone, and I’m back to sitting alone with my pizza.

Jimmy and Lister. Holy shit. I don’t think anyone in the fandom saw this coming. Everything has been about Jowan, since the fandom started growing it’s the only ship that ever existed. No one bothered writing fics about any other pairings. The only Jimmy/Lister fics I ever came across were platonic ones, and even they made sure to mention Jimmy’s boyfriend Rowan.

Oh god, I hope they’re okay. The fans got so crazy when Bliss and Rowan’s relationship was exposed. Jimmy/Lister is the final nail in the Jowan coffin. Jimmy must be having the panic attack of his life! I’ve got to-

My phone rings again.

I look down at the screen, and see Jimmy’s name. I take a deep breath, and answer.

“Jimmy, hi! How are-”

“Have you seen it??”

“Yes.”

“Oh god. This isn’t how we wanted to tell you guys.”

“You sure? Because getting caught by the national press worked so well for you last time.” I tease. Silence. Oops, probably not the best thing to remind him of right now.

“Jimmy, you still there?” I say carefully. There’s a slight rustle on his end, which means he probably just nodded. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise. The fans will move on. They already did with Jowan, right?”

“But what if something happens again? Something like-”

“It won’t. You guys have better security now, and you’re doing less public events. You’re going to be fine.” I hope and pray that I’m saying the right things. Jimmy and I have gotten close lately, but I’m nowhere near as good at helping him deal with his anxiety as Rowan and Lister are. There’s more silence, until finally, Jimmy speaks again.

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah I think you’re right. Thanks, Angel.”

“Course I’m right! If there’s one thing I know, it’s fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs, and I grin back. “And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. This is happening to Lister too, and no doubt Rowan and Bliss will be there to help you. Just talk to them.”

“Thank you Angel, I’ll go do that now.”

“Perfect! Love you Jim, I’ll text you later.” I say, and the call ends.

He’ll be okay. He’s got too many people who love him not to be. I take another breath and put my phone down on the table. As soon as I do, however, it buzzes again, and I see Jimmy is trying to facetime me. Now very concerned, I answer it and hold the phone up so he can see my face properly.

“Jimmy, are you okay, what’s happened??” I ask anxiously, but he looks fine. He looks at me with a confused expression.

“Nothing, I’m just talking to the others, like you said.” He says. It’s only me and him on the call. I stare at him in silence for a moment.

“Jimmy, mate… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not any of them” I say slowly, and to my surprise, Jimmy laughs.

“Yeah I know, but I was kind of hoping to have you here, too, if that’s okay?” He says sheepishly. “It’s okay if you’re busy, it’s just that… I don’t know, you’re good with this stuff and you make me feel calm? Sorry, I know that’s a lot to just dump on you.” Jimmy doesn’t look at me directly, and I start to feel tears in my eyes.

“Well damn, Jim, I guess if you truly love me that much, I can stick around for a bit.” I laugh, and quickly glance at the time. “My lunch break is only halfway over, anyway, so I have plenty of time to hang out while you talk to the others.”

Jimmy seems to let out a breath, like he’d been holding it, and grins.

Just as I’m about to start talking again, I hear a ping, and Lister’s face appears on screen, followed by Rowan and Bliss.

“Hey Jimjam, you okay?” Rowan asks, looking as calm as ever. “Oh hey Angel.” He adds. I give him an awkward smile.

“Wait, Angel's here?” Bliss interrupts before Jimmy can answer. “Nice, how’s the week from hell going? Didn’t think we’d hear from you until you’d made it through.”

“Yeah it’s rough, but I’m getting there. This is a welcome distraction though.” I grin at her.

“So you’ve seen the pictures then. They look good, right?” Lister chimes in, before correcting himself. “I mean, it’s horrible they found us, fucking pricks, but you’ve got to admit we look good.”

“You can be so self-centred sometimes.” Bliss laughs.

“Come on Lister, this isn’t a joke.” Rowan chides him.

“Well, I guess he isn’t wrong..” Jimmy mumbles nervously and I see him smile a bit.

“See, Jimmy agrees with me!” Lister argues back at Rowan, who rolls his eyes.

“It’s still not something to laugh about.” Rowan says firmly. “Cecily’s already on damage control, cancelling some events, beefing up the security at others, and giving the tabloids hell. She’s also let your grandad know, Jimmy.”

“Wait, aren’t you guys all down there already?” I ask, confused.

“Nah we got back last night. That picture was taken when we went out for lunch the other day. Took their time printing it.” Lister says.

“Probably needed time to pad out their articles. Seriously, how can they write so many pages about two people dating?” Bliss adds.

“Probably whining about how Jowan is now well and truly dead.” Rowan rolls his eyes again. “Although I have to say, I’m pretty happy about that part.” I cringe slightly as he says that. I will never not regret being one of the Jowan fangirls.

“So Cecily’s already got a plan? That’s good, that’s a bit of a relief.” Jimmy speaks up, looking visibly more relaxed than he had sounded over the phone earlier.

“Yeah she’s got it sorted, so we can start planning our Christmas party!” Lister says, making the others groan.

“Lister what the hell makes you think we should be throwing a massive fucking party right now?!” Rowan says, his voice growing louder. Lister goes quiet, looking like he wants to shrink into his seat, before eventually speaking up again.

“Look, it doesn’t have to be anything big, I just mean… Angel, you’re gonna be in London with Juliet, right? Come over, drag Bliss with you, Jimmy can invite his grandad, Rowan you can bring Jade, and there you go, that’s our party!”

“That’s...actually a good idea.” Rowan says, surprised.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” Jimmy adds.

“I’m up for it, Angel, do you think Juliet will wanna come?” Bliss says.

“Hell yeah she would, let’s do it!” I reply with a massive smile on my face. Partying with Bliss and the boys sounds like the best way to spend my Christmas London trip. I’ll make sure to tell Juliet about it when I talk to her later. As I start planning all the food I’m going to bring over, and wondering what the boys’ flat will look like at Christmas, the conversation starts up again.

“You sure you’re doing alright, Jimmy? I can come back home if you need me to.” Rowan says, focusing things on the issue at hand again.

“No no, don’t worry, stay with your family. They’d kill me if I made you miss out on spending time with them.” Jimmy jokes. “I’ve got Lister here, and Cecily’s number if I need it. My head isn’t giving me too much grief right now, anyway.”

“Wait, Lister, you’re there with him?” Bliss asks.

“Yeah, check it out!” Lister says, before picking up his phone and moving. He takes us out of what I think was his room, through a hallway and comes out into a large living room, where we can see Jimmy on a sofa looking at his phone. “Say hi to the chat, Jim!”

Everyone laughs as Jimmy gives an awkward wave to Lister’s phone. Lister then hangs up and launches himself into view of Jimmy’s screen, and the two shuffle about until they’re practically sitting on top of each other, faces

squished together so the tiny phone camera captures them both. I hate how cute they look together.

“Alright, if you’re sure, Jimmy,” Rowan says, smiling for probably the first time this whole call.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Jimmy smiles back. “This whole situation is terrifying, and I’m more than ready to hide in my room and not see another mad fangirl for the rest of my life, but... if I did that we’d never get to hang out with Angel again.” He finishes, biting his lip as if unsure of whether or not the joke will hit.

“Uh..ouch!” I clap my hand on top of my heart dramatically and laugh, while the others join in. “I’ll have you know I’ve abandoned my fangirl ways. Mostly. Sort of. Okay, not completely but I’m not shipping real people anymore, so that’s something, right?!”

Lister is giving Jimmy a look of what I can only assume is pride for making a decent joke during a time of peak anxiety, Rowan has his head in his hands, probably contemplating his life choices now that Lister seems to be rubbing off on Jimmy, and Bliss still looks shocked that such a joke came out of Jimmy’s mouth, not Lister’s. When things calm down again, I check the time and speak up again.

“Well this has been fun Jim, but I’m afraid I have mad fangirl duties to be getting back to. Shrines to build, fanfiction to write, you know how it is.” I say sarcastically.

“Thanks again, Angel, for being here, and listening. And you’d better be right about that fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs again, although this time I see his smile falter a bit.

“Hey, look at me,” I say, moving as close to the screen as I can without squishing my face on it. “Things will settle down before you know it, in the meantime, we’re all here for you. You’re not alone in this.” Rowan and Bliss nod in agreement, and I see Lister hug Jimmy closer. Jimmy takes a breath and nods as well.

“Thanks Angel. And good luck with your exam. We’ll see you over the holidays.” He smiles.

“Yeah you got this Angel, go smash it!” Bliss chimes in, giving me a thumbs up and a grin. I say one last goodbye to them all, and hang up.

I look back down at my pizza, still uneaten. I need to stop letting myself get distracted during phone calls. I can eat and talk to my friends at the same time. I’m usually a master at it.

“Fereshteh!” I look up again. Either I’m going loony, or someone just said-

“FERESHTEH!” I turn around and see Mollie and Christina barrelling towards me, with the most excitement I’ve ever seen on a students’ face during exam season. They crash into my table and both start talking at once.

“Have you seen??”

“Did you know??”

“How long have they been together?!”

“Oh my god is this why you won’t tell us about what happened in Kent?!”

“Woah, easy on the interrogation! Seriously, you guys need to work on your interview skills.” I put my hands up in surrender and laugh. Mollie rolls her eyes at me.

“So? Did they tell you or what?” She asks again. I roll my eyes back at her.

“You know I don’t want to tell you guys anything about the boys. They trust me, and I’m not going to fuck that up because of some shit a tabloid prints.”

“How dare you appeal to our morality and ethics, we want gossip dammit!” Christina giggles, lightly banging her fist down on the table.

“Then stick to the Twitter pages.” I stick my tongue out at her. Mollie and Christina are two of my housemates, and are part of the Ark fandom. I never planned on telling them about Kent, but they figured out who I was thanks to the pictures of me and Jimmy on the train. I didn’t think you could tell it was me, but fangirls are like master detectives. They figured it out in less than a week. They haven’t told anyone though, they’re good mates.

“So how are you feeling about all of this? Whether you knew or not, having it out in the press like this is a lot to handle, especially after last time.” Mollie says, now in serious mode.

“It is a lot, definitely, but they’ll be fine. They’ve had this happen before and they know what to expect from the fans. I just wish I could be there for them.” I say, sitting back in my chair.

“I get

that, it must suck that you guys are so far apart now.” Christina chimes in.

“I mean it’s not like we ever lived close to each other before. The only reason we even crossed paths over the summer was because I was staying with a friend. But yeah, being away from them all is kind of hard sometimes.” I sigh dramatically, making Mollie and Christina grin.

“Are you going to visit them over Christmas?” Christina asks.

“I’m definitely going to visit my friend in London again, for a day or two, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to see the boys.” I quickly lie. “They cut back on public events but they’re still really busy most of the time. And this,” I gesture to my phone “definitely won’t help.”

“We’ll keep an eye on fandom updates for you, and try to shut any mentions of Jowan down,” Mollie says, reaching across the table and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. I squeeze hers back and give her a grateful smile. I mostly stopped interacting with the fandom after meeting the boys, reading fanfiction, and discussing theories with other fans just feels weird and creepy to do when the people you’re talking about are your friends. So it’s nice that I have Mollie and Christina looking out for them, and doing what I can’t. Christina has a pretty big following on Tumblr, and Mollie’s a Twitter ace, so I trust them to hold their ground with the fandom.

“Okay, you don’t have to give us any details, but genuinely, what do you think of Lister and Jimmy as a couple? Because I don’t think the fandom could handle a breakup.” Christina says after a while, making me laugh.

“Pfft, yeah I don’t think the boys could handle a breakup, either.” I smile. “But honestly? I think they’ll be good for each other. Lister is good at helping Jimmy relax and step out of his anxiety bubble, and Jimmy can help reign in Lister’s chaotic energy. Plus they’re freaking cute together, I mean just look at this picture!” I finish, gesturing dramatically to my phone again.

“They are so cute!” Mollie nods in agreement. “I’m actually shocked no one thought to ship them together before.”

“That’s the Jowan storm, for you,” Christina adds. “Can’t believe we ever shipped that.”

“So gross.” I shudder at the thought. Suddenly the alarm I’d set this morning went off, making us all jump.

“What’s that?” Mollie asks. I check the screen and practically leap out of my seat.

“Oh shit, my exam starts in 10 minutes!” I say, gathering my stuff up as quickly as I can. I say my goodbyes to Mollie and Christina and start running back across campus to the exam hall.

I make it just in time, much to the invigilator’s chagrin, check my bag in at the desk at the back of the hall, and collapse into my assigned seat. The exam starts, and it’s only when it does that my stomach reminds me that I never actually ate lunch. Shit.

I start to silently scold myself for being so stupid, when my mind starts drifting to the video chat with Jimmy and the others. He and Lister looked so comfortable with each other. Makes sense, they've known each other for so long. But even still, Jimmy looked so much happier once Lister sat down with him, and Lister himself practically seemed at home with Jimmy’s arms wrapped around him. I smile at my exam paper.

I’m so happy for them.

#osemanverse #i was born for this #iwbft #bicci #angel rahimi #jimmy kaga ricci #lister bird #juliet schwartz #bliss lai

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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years ago

Text

off limits: tom holland one-shot

a/n | this is my submission for @chloecreatesfictions’ 1k writing challenge! i’ve never done the “brother’s best friend” trope and i def got a little too excited and carried away! real talk, this might be the cutest thing i’ve ever written

summary | as harrison osterfield’s younger sister, you’d always just seen his best friend tom as an annoying older brother. until, one day, you didn’t.

cw | tom x osterfield!reader. contains language, alcohol, recreational use of weeeed, teenage angst, sexual tension, fluff n’ stuff. 5k words.

For as long as you could remember, Tom Holland had been a stitch in your side that you could never get rid of.

Growing up as your older brother’s best friend, he was always at your house when you were children— and his favorite pastime when Harrison was boring him was to break into your room and mess with you, stealing your toys or running his hands across the piano keys when you were trying to practice in peace. No matter how many locks you put on your door just to keep Tom out, he was always able to pick them.

As you all got older, he grew to annoy you in a different way, blasting loud, grungy music through Harrison’s bedroom walls late at night or eating things out of the fridge that clearly had your name on them. Once he’d started to garner some attention as an actor, his ego skyrocketed, and somehow he became an even bigger nuisance. He dragged Harrison away from you and took him all over the world while you had to sit idly by and love your brother from a distance.

When Tom would come over now, he would talk of nothing but hollywood parties and getting drunk with the biggest a-listers when he knew you were listening. He would ignore you when he breezed past you in the hallway, and even had the audacity to go into your bedroom when you were out and smoke a blunt on your bed so your whole room smelled like a music festival when you got home; and worst of all, it was your weed.

It was sufficient to say you were Tom Holland’s least enthusiastic fan. And it was rather unfortunate, because you were a big stan of the MCU—and secretly loved getting high and watching and re-watching the spider-man movies the most. Okay, don’t make that face. They have a good storyline.

It was a regular Friday night, you were aimlessly scrolling through your phone while Harrison and Tom were getting ready to go pub hopping. Harrison always invited you, but you never took him up on his offer because you knew how flirty you got with alcohol in your system and wouldn’t dare feel that way around Tom. He was notorious for taking anything nice you said about him and rubbing it in your face for at least a week after.

“You know you secretly love me, babe.”

You hated when he called you babe, and he knew it. But since you’d both grown up, time had done you both a favor, and there was always an air of something you couldn’t quite place your finger on whenever you interacted...the pet name just made it more interesting.

“Hey, y/n, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Harrison yelled from outside your bedroom door, and you peeked your head out to respond.

“Nah, it’s fine, Haz, go have fun. I have enough uni work to keep me busy.”

“It’s a Friday night, nerd.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and smiled. “Sorry I’m not a budding alcoholic like you, big bro.”

He laughed, blew you a kiss, and he and Tom were off.

Only about an hour later, you decided to take a break from studying and light up a joint, turning on your go-to movie for background noise- but were snapped out of your vibey trance when you heard the front door swing open, and your brother’s loud, drunk voice.

“W-why are we h-home, you div,” he slurred, as his heavy footsteps start to climb the stairs. After a long moment, you heard him collapse on his bed through your thin walls, still stammering out his words. “Thomas, I promise you, I am fineeee...”

“Mate, you’re sloshed. Go to bed.”

You decided to leave them be. This was a typical occurrence- one of the boys went too hard too early, and the other had to babysit until they made it home to pass out cold, usually on the bed, or the couch, or on a good day, the floor.

A few minutes passed while you hotboxed your room, feeling amazingly relaxed, until you saw your doorknob wriggling out of the corner of your eye. Your door was locked, so you ignored it. But the knob kept twisting and falling back in place, making the whole frame shake. After a long while of witnessing a ghost try to make its way into your room, you watched your lock turn slowly and click out of place, the door creaking opened to reveal Tom, swatting at the air when a cloud of smoke greeted him.

You snapped your laptop closed before he could hear his own voice flowing out of your speakers. “Tom, for the last time, stop picking my fucking lock!” You beamed your nearest pillow at him—which he caught before it struck him—and he threw it back, hitting you square in the face. Of course.

He flashed a cocky smile. “Why? It’s so easy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious! I could’ve been naked or something!”

He just stood in the doorframe, giving you a once-over in your thin cotton t-shirt and yoga pants, and kept that smug expression locked on his face.

“Ew, Tom, you’re disgusting. Get out.”

He decidedly did not get out, instead closing the door behind him and hopping up next to you on your bed, the divot in your mattress leaving your bodies pressed much too close together. You were met with a strong whiff of his cologne and the gin he must’ve been drinking earlier. “I’ll take that,” he muttered as he lifted your joint out of your fingers and took a puff, sucking his breath in as his lungs filled.

Your stomach filled with a dull fire and you narrowed your eyes. “Do you mind?”

He turned to face you and blew a big puff of smoke directly into your face, the notorious smirk making its reappearance. “Not at all, thanks for asking though.”

You groaned aloud. “What are you doing in here?” he took another draw and handed you back what was rightfully yours, smoke dissipating from his mouth as he spoke.

“Haz is pissed and I’m bored.”

You relit the bud and inhaled for a long while, figuring you’d need to be pretty intoxicated to not smack him in the face if he tried to talk again. “Well, go be bored somewhere else. I was busy.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you and reached across your lap for your computer. “Doing what?”

Oh shit. “Dude, can you not-?!” you yelped, but he had swiped it too quickly out of your grasp, and opened it up to find himself paused on your screen. You laid back on your bed so he couldn’t see your cheeks now flushed with embarrassment and grabbed your lighter from your nightstand. It was going to be a long evening.

He leaned himself over to catch your eye and had the stupidest, most prideful look plastered across his face. “Gotcha.”

You punched him in the arm as he erupted into laughter—but the anger inside you had been dulled by the weed and replaced with a childlike silliness—and you started to giggle, too. You looked up into his eyes, pupils now wildly dilated and tinted red around the edges.

“Shut up, Tom, you’re high,” you said in between chuckles.

“Yeah? Well so are you!”

You poked fun at each other for a while, suddenly in a mutually fantastic mood. You knew in the back of your mind that none of this would be happening if you hadn’t gotten stoned together, but you enjoyed the warm company anyway.

“Well, you gotta finish it, don’t you?” he said, settling back down and fixating the computer on his lap so you could both see it.

“You really want to watch your own movie?”

“Doll, it’s my favorite thing to do.” he smiled at you.

“God, you’re the worst.” you felt some butterflies make an entrance in your chest that had never been there before.

He pressed play and cozied up on your bed, lying back against the wall with his arm lazily draped behind you. You pulled a blanket up onto your lap and had really no choice but to lean on him for support, neither of you admitting out loud that you were full on cuddling and not angry about it.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna share?” he whined, pulling at the corner of your blanket.

“Get your own,” you responded, internally high-fiving yourself for finally getting the chance to sass him back. Sure, you had your head comfortably resting on his shoulder, but that didn’t mean you were suddenly friends.

You let the movie play, the two of you blowing through the joint until it was a dwindling nub. The scene where Peter has his big kiss with MJ started, and you stifled a snigger as their lips met on the screen.

Tom had clear offense laced through his words. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged.

He sat up to look at you, eyebrows knit together in an angry pout. “Tell me.”

“I just...feel bad for Zendaya, that’s all.” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, and his eyes rolled so far back into his head you were sure they’d be stuck that way forever.

“You’re such a brat,” he started, his ego finding its old place back in his voice. “I’m an amazing kisser. She told me herself.”

You looked away from him, taking a heavy exhale. “Yeah, whatever, dude.”

He sat even more upright and paused the movie, taking hold of your shoulder to make you turn to him. “What, you don’t believe me?”

You realized then how physically close you had gotten, as you could feel the syllables of his words in his breath hitting your face. He was doing that thing boys do, when they’re thinking about kissing you but don’t- their stares going back and forth between your lips and your eyes in a not so subtle way. It freaked you out to see him that close and personal, and you whispered back exactly what you knew would irk him the most.

“Nope.”

He moved his face impossibly closer to yours, and you felt his soft lips lightly brush over your own. You weren’t sure if this was real, or just a high hallucination, but you didn’t move away. This was entirely uncharted territory.

“Tooommmm!” you heard Harrison yell out from the other side of the wall. “Where are yooouuu?! I’m so thirsty!” Tom immediately jerked his head away from you and shook himself out of the moment. You brought your hand up to your cheek and shuddered at how hot it had become- your own body was betraying you.

“God, he’s gonna be the death of me,” Tom said, shoving himself off the bed and walking out of your room, glancing back at you for a moment and then closing the door behind him. Just like that, he was gone, and you were left trapped in your own psyche wondering what the hell had just happened.

Over the course of the next week, things has become exponentially weirder between you and Tom. He seemed to be spending much more time at your house than he normally did, even sleeping a few nights there instead of driving the five minutes back to be in his own bed. One unsuspecting morning, you knocked on your bathroom door, annoyed that it had been shut for such a long time.

“Haz, if you use up all the hot water again, I’m gonna kill you,” you said in between knocks. You were taken by surprise when it swung open, steam billowing out into the cool air.

“Whoops,” you heard a voice say, immediately realizing it wasn’t your brother. You took a step backward to see Tom emerge, wearing nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp and clinging to his forehead, and he looked like some glowing magazine model.

“Uh, sorry,” you stammered, accidentally inhaling the yummy smell of his soap and shampoo emanating off of his skin.

He noticed you eyeing him and a sly grin appeared as he rolled his bottom lip under his teeth. “Shower’s all yours, babe,” he said, bumping your shoulder with his own as he walked away. You were stuck in place and didn’t see him glancing back at you as he wandered down the hallway.

Another day after that, Tom and Harrison were looking for a certain record to play, but it was nowhere to be found. “It might be in y/n’s room,” Harrison said, sitting back in his lounge chair. “Wanna go grab it?”

Tom coughed. “Why do I have to get it?”

“Because I’m comfortable.”

Tom felt a mix of annoyance and nerves in his chest as he walked the short distance down the hallway to your room where the door was already cracked open. He invited himself in—excitement faltering a little when he saw you weren’t in your usual spot on your bed—and started to sift through your bookshelves.

You had been in the bathroom getting dressed after your shower, but realized you left your shirt in your closet- and seeing that Harrison’s bedroom door was still shut, you figured it was safe to run across the landing into your room without anyone seeing you. In just a bra and spandex shorts that left little to the imagination, you swiftly made your way across the hall and walked through your door that was still open a crack to see Tom kneeled down as he shuffled through your record collection.

He heard your small gasp when you entered to find him, and swiveled around to you standing only a few feet away from him in the least amount of clothing he’d ever seen on you. He abruptly stood up but didn’t move, eyes sparkling as they rolled down your body.

“What the fuck! Why are you always in my room?!” You were too shocked to think about finding something to cover yourself with, and put your hands over your face, trying not to die of embarrassment. Tom remained glued to his place on your carpet, clearly at a loss for words.

“Tom, can you leave please-”

“Right, yeah, okay, uh, bye-” he hurried out of your room, swinging the door almost shut but leaving just a crack so he could speak into it.

“...I like your shorts.”

“TOM!”

He chuckled and closed the door, and you slumped against the wall, still holding your head in your hands. What was this sudden hold he had over you? And why did you love the way that he was staring at you?

That night, you had a big paper to complete, and you were perched in your bed typing away as it got dark. In between two songs on your playlist, you heard the familiar jiggle of a doorknob. Looking up over your screen, you watched as the metal turned in its socket, and heard a soft “crushed it” as the lock undid itself. Your door opened steadily and slowly, a familiar face peeking in at you.

“Hi.”

“Oh sweet jesus,” you mumbled.

“You busy?”

“Clearly.”

“Cool.” Tom let himself into your room, shutting the door behind him and sauntering over to your bed, sitting down next to you, bouncing like a little kid and singing his words. “Whatcha doooin’?”

“Homework,” you said, continuing to type and trying your best to ignore the way the sound of his voice was waking up something electric inside of you. He leaned into your body to peer at your computer screen, pretending to be interested in whatever you were writing about. His elbow got in the way of your hands, and you had to stop typing.

“Thomas, is there something I can help you with?”

“Haz is asleep,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder like it hadn’t been a week since your almost-kiss and you hadn’t been actively avoiding bringing it up.

You felt jittery. “And?”

He gently pushed your hands away from the keyboard and closed your laptop shut, giving you a sheepish smile. “Wanna get high?”

Honestly, you did.

You turned on your lamp and turned off the overhead light, put on that record he finally found, lighting a candle and then another hand-rolled blunt. This time, Tom sat upright with you perpendicular to him, your legs swung over his lap. When he made a joke, he’d give your leg a little squeeze- and whether it was purposeful or not, you were filled with schoolgirl nerves every time it happened.

All the angsty barriers built up over years of a sibling-like rivalry had come down between the two of you as you smoked together; you suddenly found all of his bad jokes funny, and he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the cute way you scrunched your nose when you laughed. Every time you exchanged the blunt, you couldn’t help but think about how his lips had just been on it a moment before yours. The night came and went, and you ended up falling asleep wrapped in his arms as he dozed off with his chin pressed to your forehead.

You both woke up at the same time in the dead of night, unsure of how late it had gotten. Still nestled into each other, you exchanged sleepy glances and no words, taking a moment to realize the position you had put yourselves in.

Tom grazed your jawline with the back of his hand and lifted up your chin with his thumb. You let your eyes flutter shut and he kissed you in the dark for one long, everlasting moment. He pulled back from you hesitantly, leaving you breathless. Did that really just happen?

“We...we can’t,” he whispered, his words tinged with sadness.

Your heart broke for him just hearing his voice. “Why not?”

“You’re my best friend’s little sister, y/n.”

“And you’re my brother’s best friend. So what?” you were almost upset with yourself for being so vulnerable; so visibly pining after him.

“So, you’re off limits,” he said, resting his forehead against yours.

“Says who?”

That prompted Tom to meet your gaze again, and this time you took initiative, moving your face to his and taking his bottom lip in between yours. He took a sharp inhale as you kissed him and seemed to let all inhibition go as he put his arms around your back and pressed you into him hard, all of his pent up feelings for you suddenly flowing out of him. He kissed you in a needy, desperate kind of way, and you loved every second of it. You ran your fingers through his hair, traced his jawline, using your hands to feel every bit of him that you couldn’t before. The strangest part of it all was how natural it felt- like you had been practicing for this very moment all your lives.

Your record had stopped spinning a while ago, the room now filled with just the breathy noises of your kisses, your contented hums and his tiny mews when you bit his lips. You were both still barely lucid, and after countless minutes of nothing but innocent kisses, you were on the brink of falling asleep again, serotonin whisking you away into dreams. Tom sighed into you, and clasped his hand around yours.

“I have to go.”

“What? Why?” you felt your heart preeminently sink in your chest; like you should’ve known this was too good to last.

“I don’t want him to wake up and find us here,” he trailed off, staring down at your intertwined fingers fiddling together.

“So that’s it?” you tried to swallow back the sudden upwell of feelings inside you.

“No, no...” his eyes filled with some type of emotional strain you’d never seen. “I- I don’t want this to be it. But I don’t want things to get...messy.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t blame him, because you understood.

“Can you come back tomorrow night?” you whispered, very not ready to let his spot next to you grow cold.

“I don’t know...”

You looked up at him doe-eyed, cooing. “Please?”

He nodded, looking away from you before he completely caved and stayed there forever. “I’ll come back.”

He pressed one last kiss onto your lips and slowly got up, reluctantly letting go of your hand as he left your room. “Goodnight, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe, finally free of demeaning sarcasm, made your heart soar.

“Goodnight, Tom.”

The door shut and you were left alone, the stillness of your room sticking out in sharp contrast with how quickly your heart was racing.

For the next few nights, Tom spent the evenings at your house with Harrison, waiting until he fell asleep to make his way next door to you. You’d smoke together, watch his movies—and in heated moments got a little handsy—but you never went past kissing, though you both desperately wanted to. It was too risky having your brother right next door; and you knew all too well how paper thin your walls were. But in those secretive hours after solar midnight, just being able to exist next to Tom and letting him hold you, you were the happiest you could ever remember being. The second night he left your room to let you sleep, he placed a light kiss on your forehead after he stood up that made the whole thing feel a little too...real.

The next day, you walked into the kitchen and found Harrison at the fridge. You were in a great mood for obvious reasons but couldn’t let it show. “Hey, got any fun plans today?”

He turned around after shoving a handful of grapes in his mouth. “Nope, got some admin stuff to do and gonna turn in early.”

“Oh, Tom isn’t coming over?”

“No, I told him to take a night off. He’s been smothering me, y’know?” he laughed and ate a few more grapes, but then turned to you, confused. “Since when do you care if he’s coming over?”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “Just want to know if I need to stay out of the way,” you faked a laugh and blinked hard, hoping he wasn’t paying too much attention to your facial expressions.

“Uh, alright then. You two are always so fuckin’ weird around each other.” He seemed to feel that was a good way to end your exchange and walked out of the kitchen, throwing a grape at you.

You rolled your eyes at your brother, but then felt the sadness bubble up upon registering that you weren’t going to see Tom tonight. But really, how long did you think you could keep this up? The feelings you were developing for him scared you, you didn’t know what to make of them; all you knew was that your days suddenly seemed much grayer without him.

Nighttime came around, and you couldn’t sleep, so you did the unthinkable and sent Tom a text. Your thumb shook as you hit send, knowing that there was now tangible evidence of the connection you’d developed, that it wasn’t just some invention of your mind.

hey, are you awake?

T: yeah, can’t sleep. you?

obviously, i just texted you.

T: shut it.

A minute passed...

T: got room for one more over there?

You smiled like an idiot at your phone.

maybe.

Less than 10 minutes later, you heard the familiar wriggle of your doorknob. You don’t know why you even bothered locking it anymore.

“Hey you,” he whispered, carefully shutting the door behind him.

“Tom, you know you could’ve just knocked and I would’ve let you in- you don’t have to keep picking the lock.”

“Old habits die hard.”

You chuckled and stood up to greet him at your door as he unexpectedly wrapped you in an amazingly tight hug. He rested his chin on top of your head and started to sway your bodies back and forth. You laid your head on his chest and said hello to his heartbeat.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was almost hard to fall asleep without you,” he murmured, placing another one of those domestic kisses on your scalp.

“Well, now you don’t have to.” you smiled. He waddled you backwards to your bed and you sat down as your legs hit the bedframe, prompting Tom to fall onto you as you giggled into his body that was now covering your face.

“Okay, goodniiight,” he said, refusing to move. You poked at his sides making him jump, and he grabbed your waist and rolled you on top of him. You instinctively leaned down so your lips could clash together in the way you were so used to, trying hard to not confess that you’d completely fallen in love with him when you finally had the breath to speak. He pushed your hair to cascade to one side of his face, and nuzzled your nose with his own, closing his eyes and humming with a smile. “Mmm.”

“Hmm?”

“Just happy.”

You rested your sleepy head on his warm chest, and fell into a deep sleep, letting the steady drumming in his chest be a metronome to breathe to.

“Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.”

You woke up abruptly, the bright light of day blinding you as you tried to open your eyes to the string of expletives you’d just heard come from a familiar voice. Once you’d opened them, though, you wish you had kept them shut so you hadn’t seen who had spoken.

“Harrison?!”

He was standing in your room, peering at you with hands half covering his eyes when you realized that there was a sleeping Tom underneath you.

Your brother paced in a circle and exhaled loudly. “Tell me I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.”

You nudged Tom awake with your elbow and immediately rolled off of him, trying to hide the very obvious fact that you had slept together all night. You never let him stay the full night for this exact reason, but he had been so ridiculously happy holding you in his arms that he forgot to set an alarm to wake him at the crack of dawn and leave. You sat up straight in your bed, twisting your hair in your hands, bracing yourself for the inevitable tirade.

Tom picked his head up to see Harrison standing there with his arms crossed, and flopped his head back on the pillow. “Fuck. Hey, mate.” He tried to play it off like this was the most normal thing that could happen on a Thursday morning.

“Is this why you’re always such bumbling fools around one another? You’ve been, what, fucking each other when I’m not around?” Harrison looked like he wanted to throw up at the thought.

“Haz, no, it’s not like that,” you said, but he didn’t seem convinced. “It’s just been smoking together and cuddling, really, that’s it,” you were torn between wanting to console your brother and admitting to both him and Tom that this was more to you than that. But Tom already knew that, because it was for him, too.

Tom looked like a deer in headlights. “I’m so sorry, dude-”

Harrison walked out of the room, and the two of you were left sitting in your bed, worry filling your eyes. Only a moment later, your brother reappeared in the doorway.

“Look, you idiots, I don’t care that you’re snuggling off the clock—you’re my two favorite people in the world, and to see you together, honestly, it’s about damn time,” he started, making both your and Tom’s jaws fall slightly agape. You exchanged a knowing look. Wait, is he not mad? Wait, about damn time??

“But I wish you would’ve told me so we could all hang out together. I don’t appreciate the sneaking around.”

You cocked your head at him, sending him a loving gaze for always just wanting what’s best for you.

“I’m just mad you aren’t including me in your hotbox sessions, really.” He laughed and ran his hands through his hair, pulling his face back to make a wild expression.

All three of you started to chuckle out of sheer awkwardness and relief.

“Come here.” Harrison held his hands out and you both gave a mutual aww as you ran into your brother’s arms, squeezing him tight.

“I love you, big bro.”

“I know. Now I’m gonna get out of here before you start kissing in front of me, or worse,” he moaned, swiftly exiting your room. “This is gonna be the grossest thing I’ve ever seen...” you heard him say to himself as he left.

You turned to Tom, still shocked at how well that had gone considering what he was assuming would happen. You swallowed the butterflies that you’d welcomed as friends and stepped back to him still sitting on the bed, putting your arms around his neck.

“And you,” you started, swinging your legs over his lap to straddle him. “I have to confess something.”

Tom placed his hands back on your hips where they rightfully belonged and smiled at you. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t mind you calling me babe anymore.” you grinned at his face drop, obviously assuming that you were going to say something else.

“Oh, and why’s that?” he prodded.

You looked up and off to the side as you squeezed his shoulders. “Maybe because I’m just a tad bit in love with you,” you trailed off, stiff as a board at what he could possibly say next.

“Well, babe,” he put emphasis on the pet name, “That’s a relief, because I was worried I might be the only one falling here.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, kneading his soft cheeks under your thumbs, whispering exactly what you knew would get him the most.

“Nope.”

#chloe1kwritingchallenge #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #best friend's brother #enemies to lovers #osterfield!reader

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q-gorgeous · 4 years ago

Text

Falling Out

fanfiction

ao3

Sam and Paulina are assigned as partners for a school project.

word count: 2581

for @phandom-phriend

heyo bro

“I don’t get what the big deal is.”

Sam stared at Paulina, who was standing in the middle of the hallway twirling her hair between her fingers.

“You don’t get what the big deal is? Your boyfriend literally just beat someone up!”

Paulina scoffs. “He’s not my boyfriend! And that kid was a loser anyway. His family is just a bunch of freaks.”

Sam looked at Danny who was still laying on the floor, his breath wheezing from when it was knocked out of him. “He’s not a loser.” Sam mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Paulina looked over her nails.

“He’s not a loser!” Sam stomped up to Paulina, her face inches from the other girl’s. “He’s really nice and actually likes hearing about things I want to talk about! Unlike you.”

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Paulina turned her nose up into the air. “That’s because all you like is that spooky ooky goth stuff. No one wants to listen to you talk about ghosts and spiders and witches.”

“He does.”

“That’s because he’s a loser.” Paulina poked a finger into Sam’s chest. “Why don’t you just drop him and this freaky goth phase and come hang out with your real friends.”

“You are not my friend.”

Paulina froze. “What?”

“I don’t know what bug crawled it’s way up your ass Paulina, but if this is how you’re going to treat people now I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

She watched as Sam walked away from her and helped Danny off the ground. Sam whispered a few things to him and he nodded. They began to limp their way to the nurses office.

Paulina clenched her fists together and her throat tightened. That’s fine. She didn’t need Sam. She had plenty of other friends. What did one falling out matter? She turned around and stomped her way in the opposite direction towards the cafeteria.

She didn’t need Sam Manson.

QQQQQ

“But Mr. Lancer!” Paulina whined, her hands resting on the top of her desk as she stood up in protest.

“I’m sorry Ms. Sanchez, but you and Ms. Manson will be partners for this project.”

Sam raised her hand. “I’d rather do my project on my own than work with her.”

Lancer pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two are partners for this project, end of discussion.”

“But-” Both girls chorused.

“That’s enough! Ms. Sanchez, take your seat.”

Paulina huffed and crossed her arms as she sat down. Why did Lancer have to assign her and Sam to work together? Hasn’t he figured out that they hate each other yet?

Her gaze flicked over to where Sam was sitting. She was angrily scratching something into her notebook. She paused and her eyes met Paulina’s. They stared at each other for a moment before Paulina sneered in her direction and looked away.

Paulina sat angrily stewing in her seat until the bell rang. She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, heading out of the classroom at a brisk pace. She was putting the combination into her locker and had just gotten it open when Sam walked up and pushed it closed.

“What do you want, Manson?” Paulina snapped.

Sam rolled her eyes. “We’re supposed to work on that project together, remember? When are we going to meet for it?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you just do it on your own and write my name on it.” Paulina twisted the dial on her locker again.

“Nu uh. If we’re forced to be partners you’re gonna help with it.”

Paulina groaned and opened her locker again. “I guess we can start working on it today after school.”

“Great. I’ll meet you at your house when school is over then.”

“What?” Paulina squawked and turned towards Sam. “Why my house?”

“I don’t want my parents thinking we’re friends again.”

Paulina just stared at her but frowned when Sam pushed the locker closed again and started walking away. She clenched her fists. As if they would ever be friends again.

The rest of the day passed by both too quick and slow at the same time. She dreaded having Sam come over and having to talk to her so much that even though the day dragged on and on, when she was at home and a knock sounded on the door it felt like she had just been standing at her locker.

Paulina opened the front door, a bored look on her face when her eyes met Sam’s. They stood there for a moment before Paulina waved her in. Sam stepped in, looking around and Paulina closed the door behind her.

“So what is this project we’re supposed to be doing anyways?” Paulina led the way to the kitchen where her backpack sat on the table.

Sam sighed. “You weren’t even paying attention when he went over it?”

“I was too busy being angry at Lancer.”

Rolling her eyes, Sam set her backpack on the table and pulled some papers out. “He wants us to find a screenplay to go over. We have to read it and analyze it like we would for a book in class but he wants us to perform part of it in class.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know Paulina!” Sam threw her hands up in the air. “Why do they make us do anything? Now pick one from this list.” She threw a piece of paper at Paulina. “This is a list of plays I thought we would both be interested in.”

Paulina stared at Sam, stunned that she’d even consider Paulina’s interests when they clearly hated each other. Slowly, she looked down at the paper, her eyes scanning over the list. One popped out to her.

“Isn’t this one a musical? Does that count?”

Sam peered around at the paper. “I would think so. They’re basically plays, just with songs. I can’t see why it wouldn’t count.”

“Hm.” Paulina pursed her lips. “If we do this one are we gonna perform a song or a different part of the musical?” She looked over at Sam. She had a dangerous, determined look on her face.

“Only if we want to blow everyone else out of the water.”

Paulina stared for a few seconds, her cheeks heating up. Then she coughed and looked back at the paper.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do that one.”

QQQQQ

“Why are they all named Heather anyways?”

Sam shrugged as Paulina squinted at her copy of the script.

They sat in the middle of the stage in the empty auditorium. The rest of their class was in the library, but Mr. Lancer had given them permission to go over their own project in the auditorium.

“What I wanna know is why there’s always so much drama in musicals set in high schools.” Sam wrinkled her nose. “Like I know we have the A-Listers and everything but this in here is so excessive.”

“What, you don’t like drama?” Paulina rested her chin on her hand, shooting Sam a smile.

“I don’t like high schoolers killing other high schoolers.”

Paulina’s smile fell. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Sam looked down and away. She took a deep breath and stood up with her script in her hand. “Anyways. Let’s figure out which part we want to perform for the class.”

Paulina took a look at the list of songs they had. “What about Seventeen or Shine a Light? I listened to those a couple times and they both have different tones but they seem like they’d be fun to sing.”

Sam nodded. “And there’s not much about sex in either of those. That’s another thing, why do musicals about high schoolers talk so much about sex?” She faked a gag. “I think those are good choices because some of those songs would be so embarrassing to perform in front of the class.”

Paulina frowned. “If this one has stuff in it that makes you uncomfortable why’d you include it on the list?”

Sam shrugged. “I figured it’d make Lancer squirm. He didn’t actually give any specifications on what we could pick anyways. Now let’s get started. Which part do you want?”

“Oh oh! Can I have the lead part? That is, if you didn’t want it?” Paulina started standing up from where she sat on the floor.

Sam shook her head. “You can have it if you want. Want to practice Seventeen first?”

“Sure.”

The music started playing after Sam hit a button on her phone and it filled up the room.

Paulina took a deep breath.

“Fine, we're damaged

Really damaged.

But that does not make us wise.

We're not special.

We're not different.

We don't choose who lives or dies.”

Paulina looked up at Sam as she sung the lyrics.

“Let’s be normal. See bad movies

Sneak a beer and watch TV.

We'll bake brownies,

or go bowling --

Don't you want a life with me?

Can't we be seventeen?

That's all I want to do

If you could let me in.

I could be good with you.”

Paulina’s cheeks flushed but she continued singing.

“People hurt us.”

“Or they vanish…”

Goosebumps traveled over Paulina’s arms as Sam’s voice rang out towards her.

“And you're right that really blows.

But we let go…”

Sam looked up and met Paulina’s eyes and it felt like Paulina was electrocuted. She pulled her eyes away and looked back down at her paper. They finished up the song and Paulina kept staring at her paper until Sam left out a breathless laugh.

“That was so cool! I’ve never really thought about doing theater or anything because it’s not very, you know, goth. But that was exhilarating!”

Paulina watched as Sam laughed and smiled. She could feel herself falling in and laughed herself.

QQQQQ

Paulina and Sam laughed as they walked out of the school together. Their project was due in two days and they were heading to Sam’s house to practice their song a bit more.

“I can’t wait to see Lancer’s face when we discuss what the musical is about. Do you think he’ll-”

BOOM!

Sam got cut off as something exploded ahead of them, sending both girls sprawling to the ground.

Looking behind them from where she was on the ground, Paulina saw a giant animalistic ghost. It looked somewhere between a cross of a snake and a cat and it looked like it was about to shoot another blast off from it’s fangs.

Just as the blast was launched towards Paulina, something crashed into the side of the ghost's head, sending the shot soaring into the sky instead.

“Run! Get out of here!” Phantom shouted as he shot back at the ghost.

She stood up shakily but didn’t run away. She looked around the front of the school for Sam, where she saw the other girl in the middle of the sidewalk holding a...lipstick? With a determined look on her face.

What was she planning to do with a tube of lipstick?

Paulina had begun inching her way over to Sam when a green blast came out of the lipstick she was holding onto. It shot into the ghost a couple of times, distracting it from Phantom’s attacks for a moment.

It bared its teeth at Sam but Phantom punched it in the side of the head. Snarling, it batted Phantom away, sending it flying across the parking lot and it faced back towards Sam.

Paulina felt like everything was happening in slow motion. When the ghost bared its teeth again, when another ball of ectoplasm started dripping from its fangs, when Paulina ran desperately across the parking lot and barreled Sam out of the way and onto the ground just before the blast created a crater in the ground where she stood a moment before. The ghost started snarling at them again.

“Hey ugly!”

Phantom viciously threw another ectoblast at the ghost, stunning it before finally pulling it into his thermos.

Paulina gasped and turned back to where Sam was still laying underneath her.

“Sam! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m-” Sam paused, frowning and her face flushing before she spoke again, looking over Paulina’s shoulder. “Shut up.”

“What?”

Sam groaned. “That dip is making faces over there.”

Paulina turned around to see Phantom making kissy faces at them. She raised an eyebrow at him and he paused to give her a grin.

“Okay well, my job is done. Have fun you two!”

And he jumped into the air and flew away.

“Seriously though.” Paulina crawled off of Sam and helped her up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why’d you do that anyways?” Her brows furrowed. “I would’ve been okay. You didn’t have to do anything.”

Paulina gaped at her. “It was about to attack you! It tried! It left a crater in the ground where you were standing! Why wouldn’t I have done anything?”

Sam looked away. “I didn’t think you cared.” She said softly.

Paulina’s stomach plummeted. “I wouldn’t have two weeks ago.” She whispered. “But then we got paired up for this project, and I realized that you’re actually very cool and that I was just really dumb in middle school.”

Sam looked at her.

“And I think I’ve always sort of missed you. But I decided to never stop being mad so I never figured that out.”

“I guess I did the same thing too.” Sam said. “I could’ve decided to talk to you on my own and talk things out after a while but I just didn’t want to.”

“But it was my fault. I was the one being a terrible person.”

“Are you going to continue being a terrible person though?”

Paulina’s mind went back to the first time Sam’s rage had been bestowed upon her, when one of Paulina’s friends beat up one of Sam’s friends. She didn’t want to be the cause of that again.

“No.”

“Well.” Sam smiled. “That’s the important part. That you’re capable of change.” She picked up her bag from where she had dropped it during the attack. “Now come on, my mom was gonna make cookies when we got home.”

Paulina smiled back at her and held up her arm to the other girl. Sam looked at it and linked her own arm with Paulina’s. Together they walked away from the school.

QQQQQ

Sam and Paulina’s chests rose up and down as they held their arms up into the air after performing the piece they picked from their musical. The class clapped for them and they lowered their arms and bowed.

“Very nice, Ms. Sanchez and Ms. Manson. Though, I wish you had picked something more appropriate than.” He squinted at the sheet they handed him. “Heathers the musical.”

Sam snickered. “Of course, Mr. Lancer. We’ll try to keep that in mind next time.”

Lancer gave her a look. “Yes, be sure that you do. Alright up next we have-”

Sam and Paulina walked back to their desks and sat down. Paulina shot a look to where Sam was sitting with Danny and Tucker, who were both making kissy faces at her while she swatted at them. Sam’s gaze met hers and Paulina waved at her before blowing a kiss to her across the room.

Sam’s face turned the brightest shade of red Paulina had ever seen it and she opened a folder and stuck her face inside it. Danny and Tucker were both teasing her even more, seemingly losing their mind about it. Paulina giggled at them and turned her focus back to the front of the classroom.

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #paulina sanchez #sam manson #goth princess #fakeup makeup #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #phic #phic phight 21 #phic phight #team ghost #i had to go stalk floqs blog to figure out what the ship name for sam/paulina was #cuz evil alliance? some had fake out make out or some variation of the one i tagged #but i was like theres gotta be a better one right?#floq came in with the clutch with goth princess jnbhg

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etoileholland · 5 years ago

Text

I can’t hide you from it all

Anonymous asked: Hey can you do a dad!tom imagine where Tom and y/n go out on a date night and Tom’s brothers and Harrison have to watch over their 3 year old son. And he ends up getting hurt. And Tom gets a bit upset at his brothers.

Pairing: Dad!Tom x female reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warning: a trip to the urgent care but there’s no mentions of anything bad I promise.

A/N: Thank you for sending in this request! Requests/prompts are always open, and if you want to be added to the taglist please let me know!

(gif not mine, all credit goes to its respective owner)

“Tom, will you quit worrying? We are plenty capable of watching over your mini me.” Harrison got up from the couch, walking over to Tom where he was straightening his tie.

“I know that but try telling my wife that, she worries too much. It’s been forever since we both went on a date and we haven’t left Charlie alone in a long time.” He fastened his cuff links and straightened his collar. He looked in the mirror one last time before hollering, “Love we cannot be late, come on!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, give me a minute.” You emerged from the stairwell in a form fitting maroon dress, holding your three year old son Charlie who rested gently on your hip.

“Damn Tom, you won the ‘I’m married to the hottest woman alive’ lottery.” Harry remarked while the boys looked you up and down, mouths gaped wide. You began to blush when you noticed their stares, and kissed your son Charlie on the top of the head.

“I love you, baby boy” You whispered as you squeezed his cheeks.

“I love you too mummy.” He whispered as you walked over to Tom so he could tell his son goodnight.

“I love you darling, you’ll have so much fun with your uncles tonight.” He ruffled the toddler’s hair as he let out a giggle.

“Love you too daddy, bye.” He waved sadly, holding out his arms to hug Tom. He held his son close, peppering kisses on the little boys cheeks. He then looked down at his watch, and quickly passed his son over to Sam.

“I trust you the most, watch over him okay?” Tom whispered into his ear as he laughed.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. He’s safe with us.” Sam said as he grabbed Charlie’s arm and gently waved it. They stood at the door as you got into the car and drove off.

“Honestly your mum and dad worry too much, you’ll be just fine.” Sam cooed as his nephew looked at him curiously.

“Movies please!” Charlie exclaimed as he squirmed in Sam’s arms.

“As you wish, let’s watch some movies.”

—

While the twins were preparing tortellini for dinner, Harrison and Charlie were busy crafting a pillow fort. Charlie carefully stacked pillows, but an idea came over Harrison as he watched his nephew stack pillows. He grabbed one and gently smacked Charlie with it, which resulted in a fit of giggles.

“Pillow fight!” Harrison exclaimed as he used one pillow to shield himself against the toddler, and the other arm swung around in an attempt to win the battle.

In an effort to get away, Charlie climbed onto the couch and began to swing at Harrison. Since he’s considerably smaller than his uncle, his blows weren’t as effective. Harrison scrambled towards the toddler as Charlie climbed onto the armrest of the couch. He made the mistake of looking down as Harrison pounced towards him, but Charlie took a misstep and fell off the couch. What resulted next was a blood curdling scream.

“Oh my god little dude are you okay?” Harrison panted as he got up to see what happened. Sam and Harry ran into the room and were shocked to see the accident.

“Oh fuck, I can’t believe I did that.” Harrison remarked. He noticed that Charlie’s shoulder was definitely dislocated from the socket and Sam gagged.

Harry, the only calm one, knelt down to Charlie and began to comfort him. He held him as he wailed in pain, kissing his head like Tom usually does.

“We could try popping it back in.” Harry suggested, but when he raised his hand to Charlie’s shoulder he let out another scream. “Don’t touch!” He exclaimed, sobbing while he began to panic. “I want my mummy and daddy.”

“I don’t want them.” Harrison let out a snide remark as Harry shot him a dirty glare. “What are we supposed to do, call an ambulance?”

“No that’ll make a scene, let’s just drive to the urgent care.” Sam suggested. Harrison grabbed his car keys, picking up Charlie as he made his way to the door.

“Wait, what about dinner?” Harry asked as they remembered they were in the middle of preparing dinner.

“I don’t know but we can’t worry about that now. Someone go turn off the stove and get a pint of ice cream and a spoon, asap.” Harrison stated as Sam went to turn off the stove. Sam then emerged with the items that Harrison requested, and handed them to him.

“If I give you this for dinner, will you promise not to tell your mum and dad what happened?” Harrison lorded the ice cream over Charlie’s head as he grabbed at it with his good arm.

“Yes.” He stated giddily as Harrison handed him the pint.

“Good. Don’t be a snitch, but let’s leave immediately.” Harrison stated as they went outside to the car and made their way to the hospital.

—

“Are you the parent or legal guardian of this child?” The nurse inquired, not looking up from her computer screen as she asked the boys the medical questions. Harrison held onto Charlie firmly while the twins were listening intently.

“Well not technically, but we are his uncles.” Harry answered as she typed something into the computer.

“I see.” She said unenthused. “Well then, where are the parents?”

“Date night.”

“Lucky them. Well the protocol is that we’ll have to call them and let them know what happened. But we will treat him and get him fixed up in no time.” The nurse said as she wrote something on his chart and scanned the paper for the emergency contacts.

“Okay but if Charlie’s parents, who are my brother and sister in law, find out, then they might just murder us. So, how much could we bribe you so that you won’t call them?” Sam pulled out his wallet from his pocket and rustled around for a twenty pound note.

“You did not just try to bribe a nurse.” She looked up at Sam disapprovingly as he waved the bill in front of her face.

“Oh, but I did. How about a twenty?”

After looking over her shoulder to make sure no one saw the transaction, she took the money from Sam’s hand, stuffing the note in her pocket before walking over to the nurse’s station. She picked up the phone, reading off a paper as she dailed a number before pausing. She waved at the boys and smirked, waiting for the recipient to answer. When they finally did, she said, “Mrs. Holland?” loud enough so they would clearly hear her. The boys looked in shock as they realised their ploy didn’t work, and they knew they were screwed.

—

“You know, I am the luckiest man alive. I have an extremely beautiful and wonderful wife, and an angel of a son. There’s nothing else I’d ever want in life.” Tom held onto your waist as you stood in the vacant parking lot of Giovanni’s ristorante. He leaned in, closing the gap between you two as he kissed you passionately, hands trailing down the small of your back.

This ristorante was significant to you both; this was where you had your first date, and when you got married you even had them cater the reception. When you needed some comfort from your hectic lives, you and Tom often went here to indulge and reminisce about your relationship.

“And I am the happiest woman alive. I have a very handsome and caring husband, and a beautiful baby boy. Life couldn’t get any better than this.” Tom lightly kissed your lips, pulling away to grab your hand as you made your way to the car.

You stopped in your tracks when you felt your phone ring, as you fished around inside your purse to locate it. You looked at the caller ID, and although you didn’t recognise it you answered anyway. The sounds of a hospital filled the background as the nurse addressed you. “Mrs. Holland?”

“Um yes, that is me.” Tom noticed the stern tone in your voice and leaned in so he could hear the call as well. He put both his arms around your waist and kissed the back of your neck.

“Are you the parent or legal guardian of Charlie Holland?”

“Yes, I am his mother.” You uttered out as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded.

“I regret to inform you that your son is in the urgent care with your husband’s brothers.” She stated flatly. You were thankful that Tom was holding onto you because if he wasn’t you would have collapsed.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, holding a hand to your gaping mouth. Tom missed some of what was said but judging by your reaction it was not good news.

“Is he alright?” Your lip quivered as you asked, and on the other end the nurse hesitated her response.

“Oh yeah he’s fine, he just dislocated his shoulder.” You let out a laugh as you realised that he wasn’t in critical condition like she made you believe he was.

“Well god,” you scoffed, “you didn’t have to be all dramatic and make it sound like he was in grave danger.” You remarked as Tom took the phone from you. He still held onto your waist tightly and you buried your face in his chest.

“Hi. It’s Tom, her husband and Charlie’s father. What hospital is he at?” He insisted and the nurse responded, “Lister Urgent Care.”

“Alright we’ll be there quickly.” He hung up and immediately embraced you, your arms wrapping around his torso firmly as he rubbed circles on your back.

“That nurse was downright terrible but our baby boy is okay. Please don’t panic darling.” He whispered. He led you to the car and even helped you with your seatbelt since you were flustered. On the car ride to the urgent care he held your hand tightly, reassuring you that everything would be alright.

After having the valet park the car, you both walked into the entrance of the urgent care and were escorted towards the door where the examination rooms were. The nurse pointed to the room that your son was in, which was room sixteen. You two briskly walked towards the room, but Tom stopped in his tracks a few doors down from the room.

“Remember darling, we have to be really strong and not show we’re scared so that our son in turn won’t be scared, okay?” He kissed the top of your hand, while you smiled weakly. “Of course love, let’s go.” You moseyed on over to exam room sixteen, bracing yourselves as you stepped in.

“Well so much for keeping him safe.” Tom remarked as he walked into the crowded examination room. He held your hand tight as you trailed in behind him. If looks could kill the boys would’ve been dead in a heartbeat.

“Tom, we can explain.” Harry stood up and put his arms up.

“We were having a safe pillow fight but then he fell off the couch and dislocated his shoulder. But he’s okay and still in one big piece.” Harrison hesitantly added. You disregarded what he said, walking over to your son and giving him a hug.

“Mummy careful.” He stated quietly as you hugged him a bit too tight.

“I’m sorry darling, are you okay?” You scanned his features as he nodded. “Mmhmm.”

You looked back at Harrison who was nervously shaking his leg, and said, “You should’ve been more careful. You’re way stronger than he is and you shouldn’t have been roughhousing with him.”

“My wife is right.” Tom interjected. “You guys were supposed to keep him safe.”

“I think we did a decent job.” Harry mumbled under his breath. You shot him a glare and he retracted into his seat.

“Decent is an overstatement.” You mumbled back.

“But he’s fine!” Harrison exclaimed, throwing his arms up as he stared at Tom.

“But what if he wasn’t? Huh?” Tom spat and saw the worry on his mates face. “It could’ve been a lot worse. He could’ve cracked his head open and needed stitches or he could’ve seriously broken a bone. It’s lucky that he only dislocated something, and even that isn’t good.” The boys remained silent as they looked down at the checkered hospital floor.

“Daddy I’m okay, I had fun.” Your son spoke as everyone turned their gaze to him. “I still love them.” He stated as he smiled at his uncles. He crawled up onto your lap and nuzzled his head to your chest.

Tom let out a sigh and tilted his head back, looking at the fluorescent ceiling lights. He looked at his son, and back at his brothers. “You’re lucky my kid still likes you, otherwise you would never watch over him again.”

“We’re aware Tom, we’re genuinely sorry.” They got up from their chairs in unison as they took a step closer to Tom. Tom walked closer to them, stopping a second, but Harrison grabbed his arm and pulled him into a tight hug. Harrison let out a sigh, and whispered, “I’m sorry I hurt your son, and I’m sorry I ruined your date night.” Tom patted Harrison’s back gently and added, “It’s okay mate, everything’s fine.”

“He’s not hurt too terribly and he’s still alive.” Tom laughed, stepping out of the embrace. “Do you forgive me?” Harrison pleaded, but before Tom could speak, he was interrupted. Their gaze averted to the entry way as the doctor walked in holding an arm sling.

“Charlie Holland, correct?” He motioned over to the toddler on the examination table. “That’s correct.” You replied.

“Good. Judging from his x-ray, his shoulder will be okay in about two weeks, and after that he’ll be prescribed physical therapy to make sure it heals properly. We don’t want him having problems with it later in life.” He stated as he lifted Charlie’s arm and put the sling on. Your son winced at the pain but you holding onto him made him feel better.

“Alright, he’s all set, have a nice night.” The doctor said matter of factly and hurried out of the room. Tom looked over at his son, who now sported an arm sling, and he looked back at his brothers and Harrison.

“I forgive you but don’t you dare do that again.” He pointed at the boys and they all crossed their hands over their hearts. “We won’t, promise.” They said in unison.

“Now come on little dude, let’s go home.” Harrison stated as he extended his hand out and Charlie grabbed onto it with his free hand. He gently helped the toddler get down from the examination table, and made sure he was okay. The family all walked out of the hospital as they made their way back to their respective cars.

“Daddy since I was terribly hurt, does that mean I get ice cream? Haz gave me cookie dough ice cream for dinner and I want more.” He grinned playfully and Harrison quickly put his hand over the small child’s mouth.

Tom shot Harrison a surprised glance while Harrison shrugged his shoulders. “Well you know what they say, ‘kids say the darnest things.’”

——

mes anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow @sunflowerhollands @fangirlwithasweettooth @lmaotshollandd @musicalkeys @taciturnspidey @graceluvsyouu

#tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland blurb #dad!tom #tom holland and you #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x female reader #tom holland writing #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfics #tom holland #tom holland blurbs #tom holland one shot #tom holland one shots #mine #text

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randomficsandshit · 4 years ago

Text

Bellarke Fic Rec

*NONE OF THESE FICS ARE MINE*

Please do not forget. I have not written any of these. I’m simply recommending favorites of mine over the years. If you love something, send the author your love, not me :) and if any links don’t work, send me a message and I’ll see what i can do, this is a pretty old list

There's A Nap For That

Word Count: 6k+

AU. Based on that post: "If you both agree to take a nap instead of going out, it’s a date." Or: The one where Bellamy and Clarke keep taking naps together. You know, platonically. See also: Let Them Rest.

If You Wear A Dress and Have an Animal Sidekick, You Are a Princess

Word Count: 3k+

AU. Bellamy can't not take care of every animal he sees, and Clarke can't not find it endearing.

*Mouth Like Heaven, Kisses Like Stars

Word Count: 4k+

His eyebrows are knitted together in a slight frown, the kind he usually gets when he’s trying to work out a difficult problem. Finally, he meets her eyes again and says, almost hesitantly underneath his mask of bravado, “Well, I’m always here to lend a helping hand if you need it, princess.” Clarke actually chokes this time, and it feels like all the breath has been knocked out of her. -or, the time when everything goes downhill and bellamy just goes down.

Wingwoman

Word Count: 1k+

AU. Clarke didn't think she'd need a wingwoman at the park playground when she's babysitting her one-year-old niece, but then Bellamy Blake strolls up, and Amelia rises to the occasion, luckily for her.

When Love Hits (Better Make It Worth The Fall)

Word Count: 4k+

AU. (She's All That) Four times Clarke gets hit on the head (+1 time she doesn't) during her last semester of high school, and every single time, Bellamy Blake is somehow involved.

All This Time

Word Count: 5k+

AU. Four times Bellamy innocently kisses Clarke, + one time he doesn't.

Take This Heart

Word Count: ~

clarke moves into bellamy's room. this is both soft and full of disdain for clarke's terrible... everything in season 3

You're Cool On The Internet, At Least

Word Count: 9k+

AU. Look, Clarke will not dwell on this. She will not get flustered just because a possibly cute guy on Facebook apparently shares her views on what constitutes a terrible person.

(Or: Clarke meets Bellamy on Facebook. They hit it off.)

(One of my personal favs)

We Came Out On Top

Word Count: 11k+

AU. “How can you guys be all like this and then be at each other’s throats during trivia night?” “Because it’s trivia night,” both Bellamy and Clarke said at the same time, sharing the same why don’t you get it tone. Bellamy, Clarke, and the trivia night rivalries only they care about.

She Does What The Night Does To The Day

Word Count: 5k+

AU. He assumes she would just giggle and continue petting him while saying how pretty he is, but instead, she pulls back with what might have been a leer had she not been three sheets to the wind, and says, “Your body is 65% water and I’m thirsty.” And then if that wasn’t bad enough, she stumbles out of his arms and fucking winks at him. Or at least he thinks it’s a wink. She used both eyes instead of one. or, the one where Bellamy is woefully and terribly oblivious.

The Giant Squid's Got Nothing On You

Word Count: 6k+

AU. Objectively, Clarke knows she’s probably right, but she still can’t help but lift her chin determinedly and say, “He is not going to find it.” She can barely hear her scoff in reply over the din of the cafe. “Yeah right,” says Raven, “The internet is forever, Clarke Griffin. He will find it eventually.” or, Clarke finds her new muse at the local cafe

Alone Together

Word Count: 11k+

AU. Clarke shows up at Bellamy’s apartment at exactly two minutes to midnight on a Thursday. He's not sure how she ends up staying the night — or why he doesn't turn her away, when it happens again. And again.

Cold As The Wind Blows (so hold me in your arms)

Word Count: 3k+

AU. Clarke gets trapped in the storage room overnight, but at least she's not by herself.

Tequila Regrets

Word Count: 6k+

AU. Clarke and Bellamy have been roommates for a while, and Clarke has been in love with him for almost as long, but when she finds out that his terror of a boss has marked him as her next conquest, Clarke offers to pose as his fake girlfriend for the staff Christmas party to scare her off. She did not think this all the way through.

Mutual

Word Count: 6k+

AU. As acts of rebellion go, Clarke knows that getting a tumblr is both minor and pathetic. But it's her secret, her own tiny, online space where no one knows she's Clarke Griffin, Hollywood A-lister. She's just some nobody with like five followers and opinions no one cares about. And then she makes a friend.

Wish On Everything

Word Count: 11k+

AU. It's not as if Bellamy wanted anything bad to happen to his mother. All he wanted was to get custody of his little sister, so he'd know she was taken care of. And after eight years, he's basically given up all hope of that. Then his mother does die, and social services tells him he gets Octavia.

Legs Crossed Towards Each Other

Word Count: 7k+

It starts with Raven wanting to set up Mr. Sinclair, out of what are probably genuinely good intentions. It's everyone else who turns it into a massive headache for Bellamy.

What The Hell Is The Catch?

Word Count: 6k+

Bellamy gets tickets to take his AP US History kids to Hamilton, and Clarke figures he's going to need a chaperone. She's happy to help out. And if he says she owes him for it? Totally worth it.

If You Wanna Reach Me

Word Count: 5k+

AU. Clarke: So yeah, in the dream it's like We're in New York, I think. I'm not really sure, but you know how it is when it's a dream and you just know something. So we're in New York.

Jasper: whos we??????

Clarke: Most of us, I think? It's always kind of hard to remember when it's a dream. Like I just thought "everyone's here!" but I mostly interacted with Bellamy.

Raven: did u mean: real life

Time Enough For Rocking When We're Old

Word Count: 14k+

boston > boston/camb/brook > housing > apts by owner $2-300 Roxbury small room in 3-br 1-bath house, spouse preferred (Roxbury) Pair of siblings looking for housemate. Due to extenuating circumstances I will share with interested parties, I would prefer a roommate who is willing to get married for legitimate personal reasons that do not include sex or anything sketchy. If not interested in marriage, room still available for $300/month plus utilities. Pets okay, no smokers, NO DRUG USE. Please don't just email me to tell me this is fucked up, I know it is, you really don't have to tell me. If you are interested in the marriage part, a female spouse is preferred, but male would be okay too. I promise I will explain this if you really want details, but I'm not putting it online. Serious inquiries only.

Must Love Intersectionality

Word Count: 2k+

AU. Bellamy hates his stupid history of colonialism class, until he makes a friend. Weirdly, the friend isn't actually in his class, they just share the same desk and like to write angry notes about the patriarchy. Bellamy's a fan.

Regardless Of Warnings, The Future Doesn't Scare Me At All

Word Count: 20k+

AU. 2 Chapters. After an argument with her mother about her unplanned pregnancy, Clarke Griffin ends up back in the small town where her father used to live, spilling her sob story to a sympathetic bartender. And then, somehow, she ends up moving in with the bartender and her brother.

(You Might Find) You Get What You Need

Word Count: 20k+

AU. Clarke needs a date to her ex's sister's wedding, and she's at the point of hiring someone off the internet when Octavia points out that her brother is always looking for money. So Clarke takes him instead.

Just As You Are

Word Count: 10k+

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Clarke Griffin in need of a Latin tutorial partner will always end up paired with Bellamy Blake.

I've Been Dreaming Of You From The Other Side (I Know You So Well)

Word Count: 17k+

AU. Ten years ago, Clarke found out she had superpowers. Now she's all ready to start a new life: English teacher by day, vigilante by night. All she has to do is figure out how to be a superhero, avoid getting caught and shipped off by mandatory metahuman registration, and not strangle the stupid history teacher down the hall. It'll be fun.

She's Touching His Chest Now, He Takes Off Her Dress Now

Word Count: 26k+

If Clarke had thought arguments could actually lead to switching bodies with someone, she wouldn't have been surprised this one really did. But since that's actually impossible, waking up as Bellamy Blake is still a shock.

I Know That Fortune Is Waiting To Be Kind

Word Count: 20k+

When Bellamy is eleven, his mother dies, and he finds out his father was a prince, which makes him a prince too, albeit a bastard prince. And when he's twelve, his family decides he would be a good candidate for marriage to Princess Clarke of Arcadia. Princess Clarke thinks so too, but only because he agrees to come back in ten years and help her make sure the wedding never takes place. It seems like a really good deal, when he's twelve.

And Dream How Wonderful Your Life Will Be

Word Count: 19k+

Clarke has known Bellamy Blake for two months when she finds out two completely unexpected things about him: he's married, and he has an eight-year-old son. He's also getting a divorce and he needs a roommate, and she's got a spot. It's complicated.

One Deep Breath and One Big Step

Word Count: 17k+

Clarke Griffin has been groomed for Ark University and Sigma Kappa Upsilon sorority since she was a kid, and she's a little annoyed to discover, upon getting to college, that she really does like Sig-Kap. That she wants to pledge. There's just this weird thing where they don't seem to like her new friend Bellamy.

Write What You Know

Word Count: 13k+

Bellamy understands every individual choice that got him to this point. He started writing erotica to make some extra money, he didn't correct the assumption that he was a woman, made up some facts about his new persona, and now his publisher wants him to start making public appearances, so he needs someone to be that persona. And Clarke really is the logical choice. It all makes sense to him, when he thinks about it, but he will admit it is incredibly weird. Luckily, Clarke's still got his back.

When Can I See You Again?

Word Count: 13k+

Bellamy doesn't recognize a lot of people he meets at conventions, even if he's met them a lot. It's just hard to keep track. But the girl who comes once or twice a year is pretty easy to remember. And that's before her foster mom shows up in a panic because she took a bus to Vegas alone. After that happens, it's basically all over.

But They Ain't Doing It Right

Word Count: 14k+

“So,” he begins, running a hand through his hair. It’s a lost cause trying to work it back into some semblance of order. “What is this?” “What do you mean?” He doesn’t meet her eye when he says, “Once is a mistake, twice is a pattern,” too busy picking at a loose thread in his hem. “Wanna go three times and just make it a habit?” she jokes weakly, and his head snaps back up, eyes boring into hers. She flushes under the intensity of his gaze. “Actually,” he begins slowly, “That doesn’t sound that bad.” or, the friends with benefits au that got away from me

Phone A Friend

Word Count: 7k+

Clarke does not ask Bellamy for tips on having a threesome because she's hoping to have a threesome with him. He's just the only person she knows personally who has actually had a threesome, so he seems like her best resource. And when the opportunity to have a threesome with him presents itself, it's not like she's going to just say no.

I'm Swept Away and My Heart Ensnared

Word Count: 15k+

Raven hums low in her throat. “Well, at least Bellamy can make it up in time. So you won’t get too axe murdered.” Clarke wrinkles her nose, leaning on the banister of the upstairs porch. From here she can see the ocean, just a five minute walk away, and she breathes in brine soaked air. “He’s still coming?” “What do you mean if he’s still coming? He didn’t say anything otherwise.” She shifts from foot to foot, feeling herself colour slightly even though there’s no one there to see her. “I just assumed that because you and Miller couldn’t make it up anymore he wouldn’t come today.” “Why the hell did you think that?” “Because Bellamy and I aren’t exactly friends, Raven." or, Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin don't really like each other. Or at least that's what they tell themselves.

Afraid To Call This Place Our Own

Word Count: 22k+

(Single mom!Clarke and Teacher!Bellamy, with the usual angsty shenanigans.)

And Are We There Yet (Home)

Word Count: 2k+

A Bellamy POV and mini sequel to afraid to call this place our own. (this shit made me cry)

Bloodstains and Innocence: A Clarke Griffin Mystery

Word Count: 27k+

Police Chief Clarke Griffin knows three things: 1) Charles Pike is dead. 2) Octavia Blake is the prime suspect. 3) Bellamy Blake a giant pain in the ass with no business being involved in a murder investigation, and yet here he is, working the case alongside her. A hurricane is approaching the sleepy little island of Arkadia, NC as evidence begins to mount against Octavia and Clarke wrestles with her increasingly complicated relationship with Bellamy, all while trying to answer one simple question: Who killed Charles Pike?

Is There An IUD That Can Stop The Image of You and Me?

Word Count: 8k+

It's probably impossible to be friends with benefits with someone who might not even count as a friend, but "lab partners with benefits" isn't a thing yet. So that's probably the right term. Whatever it is, Clarke's enjoying it. As long as she ignores the whole feelings thing.

I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway

Word Count: 65k+

Modern AU inspired by the show You're the Worst, where Bellamy and Clarke hook up after a wedding.

And You Can Have This Heart To Break

Word Count: 37k+

Clarke knows she's being a little over-dramatic in her complaining about having to move to Maine, but it does seem pretty unreasonable of her mother to drag her to a small town in the middle of nowhere for the three months between high-school graduation and her starting college. As it turns out, the summer is great. It's just the summer ending that's the problem.

Museums and Mistletoe

Word Count: 1k+

Clarke buys Bellamy a museum ticket for Christmas and he acts like it’s the best gift he’s ever received. She buys one for herself too, because she knows none of their other friends have the time to go—finding a day they can all get together to exchange gifts is hard enough—and if it gets her an uninterrupted afternoon with her best friend and all around favorite asshole, she’s definitely not complaining.

When In Brome

Word Count: 57k+

Octavia is the one who tells Clarke about "Untitled Gladiator Project," because she thinks Bellamy wants to be on it, and also thinks Clarke is the one who will be able to convince him to do it. Plus, it turns out Clarke actually needs to be involved, because all of the gladiators are required to have girlfriends with them, and, honestly, the more she hears about it, the more of a mess it seems like. On the other hand, it sounds kind of hilarious, and definitely right up Bellamy's alley, so there's probably no harm in trying out. It might be fun.

It’s All Internet Interaction

Word Count: 11k+

Bellamy is less than pleased when soap opera star Clarke Griffin lands the lead role in the Callister reboot. So, naturally, he writes about it. It’s not supposed to blow up. She’s not supposed to respond to it either, but here they are.

Just Dive Right In (And Follow My Lead)

Word Count: 24k+

Clarke Griffin needs a partner. Bellamy Blake just happens to walk into her rink. (Or: Bellamy and Clarke as ice dancing partners, training together through the years to the Olympics.)

Sleight Of Hand

Word Count: 56k+

Notorious criminal prodigy Bellamy Blake has been tasked with a seemingly impossible heist. Luckily enough, he just might have the right crew for it. *Personal Favorite*

And Then We Were Chasing Comets

Word Count: 21k+

If you told Clarke Griffin that she would become best friends with the resident black sheep of Arkadia, she would have difficulty believing it, let alone the fact that he apparently wrote an entire book about her. (Or: Clarke and Bellamy through the years, as childhood best friends.)

See Me In Hindsight

Word Count: 16k+

“You’re kind of a mess,” He says mildly. “Thanks captain obvious.” The corners of his mouth twitch a little, like he’s holding back a smile. She is not remotely pleased by that. Not at all. Or, the one where they're project partners and maybe, perhaps, friends. (And maybe, perhaps, more.)

Challenge Accepted

Word Count: 30k+

He doesn't even like Clarke Griffin, he's pretty sure he hates how easy everything has come to her. So imagine his surprise when he finds himself at their office party looking through dick pics on her phone. “You can do better, Princess. In fact, I can do better.” As soon as she turns to him with raised eyebrows and an open mouthed grin he knows he’s said too much but she’s not going to let it drop. “Oh really, you think you can do better, Blake?” And he's never backed down from a challenge in his life.

Found Myself In A Second

Word Count: 5k+

The one where Clarke finds a lost wallet belonging to one Bellamy Blake.

Every Rose Can Sting You

Word Count: 15k+

Clarke expected to encounter annoying guys when she got forced into becoming the Bachelorette, but she didn't realise that the most annoying of them all would be the head cameraman. Because seriously, Bellamy Blake is a total prick. It's a good thing there's absolutely no chance of her ever actually liking him, because boy, would that be inconvenient…

Choking On Your Alibis

Word Count: 7k+

Bellamy gets a girlfriend and Clarke handles it spectacularly well

#bellarke #the 100 #fic rec #fic rec masterlist #bellarke masterlist #bellamy x clarke #beliza #the 100 fic #multi chap fic #one shot #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #raven reyes #octavia blake #eliza taylor #bob morley #the cw #fanfiction #bellarke fanfiction

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blahkugo · 4 years ago

Note

Congrats for the 1k!! Wdyt ab hawks in an underground scenario?

thanks anon baby!! i love writing for hawks in general and this au was soooooo much fun to explore!! ♡ i honestly went a little crazy with it & added too much rumi in there lmao

-ˋˏ ༻ 光 ༺ ˎˊ-

「TAKAMI KEIGO / HAWKS」

— underground! au (feat. rumi)

— warnings: 18+, smut, drugs / alcohol mention, kind of scumbag hawks

⤏ keigo’s very devious, in the sense that he can be both the star of everyone’s show and a sneaky bastard. he’s a double agent in the truest definition of the word, and it’s no different in an underground au

⤏ ‘heaven’ is the place to get into; no, no, not god’s pearly white gates, but rather the giant underground nightclub teeming with bar hoppers and thrill seekers on a saturday night.

⤏ the highly illegal establishment is run by none other than keigo takami himself, the eccentric club owner that people only know by name

⤏ no one’s ever actually seen keigo at his own club, nobody even knows what he looks like

⤏ so, rumors fly amongst the regular patrons; some say he’s a cartel boss, others a crooked cop

⤏ a choice few believe that he’s the devil himself. and in his jealousy of god’s perfect eden, he crafted his own slice of heaven, where restraint and inhibition are words with absolutely no meaning

⤏ the reality isn’t far off, if we’re being honest

⤏ ‘heaven’ is keigo’s personal playground, a place where he can be anybody he wants to

⤏ typically, that anybody is pulling pretty little whores into the giant vip room, and pumping them chock full of his favorite pills: angel dust

⤏ when his own high kicks in, the fun begins. and at that point, even keigo thinks he may be the devil incarnate

“Tsk, tsk,” Keigo wags a slender finger in front of your face, snatching the pretty little capsule from your hand.

Quick, pounding percussion still pulses at your ears, though the VIP room is much quieter than the club floor— cooler as well. Without the mass of compressed, sweaty bodies dancing and grinding, you feel a bit over exposed in your two piece set. For a second, you have the urge to cover your midriff, but the angel in front of you sweeps your attention yet again.

“How do good girls ask for pills?” He’s teasing you, has been since the moment he approached you spouting some nonsense about being the club owner. While you were initially adamant in your disbelief, only agreeing to follow him for his tempting promise of ‘proper drugs,’ the extravagance of the VIP room sways your opinion now.

Also, the man swims in luxury, seems to be bathed in an ethereal glow that screams money from the tips of his perfectly tousled hair down to the Givenchy trainers on his feet. The richest men always dress in subtleties; you just have to know where to look.

Your assumptions were confirmed when he ordered top shelf booze. They were absolutely set in stone when Rumi, the Playboy Bunny turned supermodel, settled into the booth next to him and plopped a kiss on his cheek.

“The sick bastard will really only give it to you if you say pretty please,” the gorgeous woman chuckles, looking every bit as intimidating as she does on the runways. “Like this,” she clasps her hands together— fingernails sporting a fierce, red manicure— and turns towards the smug blonde. “Please Keigo, a pill.”

It’s unclear whether her tone is sincere, sickly sweet words dripping with mockery and faux praise. Either way, you refuse to be the butt of their jokes. Begging for drugs? Over your dead body.

Keigo must feel your hesitation, must sense the subtle shift in your body language, because his eyebrows narrow for a fraction of a second before quickly regaining their place far atop his forehead— practiced nonchalance, seemingly perfected over years.

He hands the pill to Rumi, and then another, pushing his slender fingers into hers without breaking your mutual gaze.

“Oops,” he feigns apology, “looks like I gave two pills to Rumi.” He slants a quick look at the platinum blonde. “You can just take one from her, sweetheart.”

When you break your glare to peek at the beautiful woman next to him, she’s giggling. The sound is practically silent, a twinkly little thing that barely reaches your ears and doesn’t rumble through her entirety like laughter truly should.

“Silly me,” she smirks, piercing eyes scanning over you now, “I didn’t realize.” Though you’re sure the night can’t get any stranger, she lets her tongue loll from between supple lips, painted bright red to match her nails. Low and behold, there are two pills, both dangling enticingly on her curved tongue.

“Aw,” Keigo coos, pout brimming with ridicule. Though you attempt to speak up, entirely fed up with this humiliating charade, he doesn’t miss a beat. “She can still have one though, can’t she Rumi?”

She simply nods, swaying her tongue once more before curling it back into her mouth. He can’t mean— no, he wouldn’t. But the pair simply stares at you, famishment gleaming in their eyes like a pair of ravenous wolves.

He wants you to kiss her.

Every one of your nerves stands on end, willing you with a passion to reject his slimy offer. You’re not a Barbie doll for him to play with, to dress and undress and buy off with a bright pink mansion to boot.

But then again, the pros do vastly outweigh the cons. When’s the next time you’re going to have the chance to kiss a supermodel? And with someone as beautiful as Keigo watching? You take a deep breath, standing up and bracing your arms against the table to lean over.

And then, you are kissing her.

Rumi’s lips taste like whiskey sour and a spice that you can’t quite place. She’s quick to take control, cupping your jaw with slender fingers and nipping at your lip. There’s a slight twinge of pain before each swipe of her tongue across your lip, and it’s a miracle that she keeps the pills nestled under her tongue; she kisses you with such passion, such dizzying ferocity, that you feel your head spin. It’s definitely not the alcohol.

When her lips bite again, more aggressive this time, you part your own in a low, teasing groan. She swings a knee over the table— pushes closer, pulls you further into her. You’re losing your breath, unable to keep up, but she simply continues her onslaught, as though you’ve stolen her last breath and she’s aching to get it back.

Only when her tongue slinks across the back of your teeth and makes its home between them, does she offer up the pill from under the wet muscle.

With a parting smile against your mouth, she pulls away.

“Hope you like that pill as much as you did the kiss,” she speaks, lips, puffy but still perfectly painted, inches from your own. She stays put, watching the strand of drool still connecting the two of you.

You wish you could say something, anything, to the goddess of a woman, but you’re left in a haze. If it isn’t for the subtle tap against your throat, you’d forget to swallow the pill you worked so diligently for. As she finally recedes, you make a mental note for later: world-renowned supermodel Rumi smells like cinnamon.

“Bunny got your tongue?” Keigo chuckles, now standing next to your side of the booth, and slithering a lithe hand across your lower back. You’d almost forgotten the smug bastard was there, but one glance his way and you remember where you are: a public space.

Sure, the VIP lounge is practically empty, save for a few stragglers here and there, but those people are presumably A-listers. And they just watched you make out with a woman all for drugs and the entertainment of a very wealthy man.

Still, it probably isn’t the worst image they’ve ever seen.

Rumi gives you another once over, baring sharp canines that seem to sparkle beneath the low, purple lights. Even after your intimate moment, she somehow seems more intimidating— or perhaps, more ravenous. She makes some comment to Keigo about giving you her number, throws a wink your way, and ends the encounter with another quick peck on his cheek.

Then, with hips swaying seductively to the beat, she makes her descent down the stairs to join the thrall of bodies as her high hits, leaving you and the blonde alone. Chancing a glance his way, you decide that’s not a terrible thing.

That same pompous smirk is plastered across his face, that same insatiable look in his eyes. His blonde locks remain in a state of perfect dishevelment, and when he runs a hand through it, his jewelry— rings upon rings and a watch that probably costs more than your rent— catches the light, shimmering wildly.

“We’re going to peak soon.”

It’s all he says, before leading you towards the stairs and down, down, down— straight into Heaven.

Wisps of baby pink, streams of bright blue— cotton candy fills the air and washes the man in front of you in a delectable light. It begs you to take a bite, to do more than press your warm, wanton body against him.

“How do you feel?” Keigo’s teeth graze the shell of your ear, hot breath tickling the side of your face. With his arms wrapped around your waist, he envelops you fully, allowing you to grind and move as you please. The heat radiating off your bodies could rival the sun.

“Like I’m flying,” you throw your hands into the air; he grazes them with his own. Every touch sends a cacophony of sparks across your flesh, every murmur of praise a chilling tingle down your spine. And when he strains his hips against yours, it heats you further, all throughout your core. You need him— right here, right now, bathed in candied pinks and sugar-filled blues.

As though he can hear your thoughts, or perhaps you’ve said them aloud, his slender fingers slither further down your body. Down, down, down— dashing under your tight skirt to rub across your soaked slit. When you cry out, a symphony of desire, he simply presses harder, rubs faster.

Just as you’re about to see stars, to grab at the spun sugar surrounding you and take an overwhelming chomp, he removes his magic fingers. You’re aware you’re crying out, feel as though the entire world’s been ripped away from you, but he simply shushes you with a slick digit against your lips.

“Let’s take this back upstairs, yeah?” The devil pokes at your side.

You’re already being whisked away, deeper into paradise.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ 光 ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

#blah blah blah 1k #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bird boi #keigo takami #1k.event

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georgiaswarr · 4 years ago

Text

jimmy kaga-ricci part 1 (part 2 / part 3)

beautiful faces - declan mckenna

if there ever was a screen adaptation of iwbft i can 100% imagine this song playing while the boys are walking the red carpet at the wcmas, when jimmy is surrounded by stardom and “beautiful faces”. however, even though he has great ambitions, he is also pretty disillusioned by the world of fame, the power games, the fake friends and the stress - deep down he’d rather just stay inside and, for once, relax

i say a little prayer - aretha franklin

i like to imagine this as a song about jimmy’s love for rowan and lister, and how in relation to his faith, praying for them is one of his love languages

ashley - halsey

hoooooo boy, this song pretty much has jimmy’s entire arc shoved into 3 minutes; “standing now, in the mirror that i built myself / and i can't remember why the decision wasn't mine / but it seems i'm only clingin' to an idea now” - jimmy feeling like their original dream about starting a band, their childhood passion and wonder has been lost along the way, they’re only clinging to an idea “someday, when i burst into flames / i'll leave you the dust, my love / hope a bit of it'll be enough to help remember the / days when we came to this place / i told you i'd spill my guts, i left you to clean it up / i'm bursting out of the” - his dreams about breaking away; however, the fact that the line is sort of cut off abruptly shows how he isn’t quite ready to burst out yet, not until friday “is it really that strange if i always wanna change?” - rowan and lister don’t understand why he wants to leave the band “i told you i'd ride this out / it's gettin' harder every day / somehow, i'm burstin' out of myself” - in the second chorus we finally have that catharsis of him actually running away and deciding to do what makes him happy

humongous - declan mckenna

this is mostly about jimmy’s relationship to the media (including social media). he’s been very closely scrutinised for years now, and things like racism, transphobia, the j*wan photo, fuckin paul marks, even the bliss story have taken a toll on his psyche - and that doesn’t even begin to cover his paranoia that is strongly fuelled by the people constantly watching his every move. the line “do you care? / i'm big, humongous, enormous and small” sounds like a cry of despair - he’s made out to be this huge, untouchable god-like figure, while in reality he feels small and easily breakable, but nobody in the media cares about his real feelings

sweaters - blanks

jimmy and rowan wanting to have a chill evening and play splatoon or something instead of attending lister’s party

social - smallpools

same theme as sweaters. the “social” here could also be taken as part of the bigger picture of fame - “if you can hear this now / bow out, save yourself” could be jimmy warning others about the dangers of fame, so to speak

roaring 20s - panic! at the disco

rule of threes; jimmy feeling anxious at the party, surrounded by people he doesn’t know or care about, wanting to go home to his grandad, etc

lavish living - carey st

this song reminds me of the ark’s london apartment; first of all, it’s huge and lavish, as the title says. then there’s also several lines in the song that remind me of various scenes; “you're so upset so what's the point of me right now” - jimmy feeling helpless after the bliss story broke and not knowing how to cheer rowan up “met a fibber yeah you met him last month / he told you things and he said it wasn't love / you're so obsessed so what's the point of us // pull away from the party / i don't think that this is meant to be / but me oh my oh make me go crazy” - the party on tuesday, magnet making a move on jimmy, bicci undertones, etc

demons - hayley kiyoko

“it's creeping in, it's gonna get me by the end of the night / i'm sinking deeper, still, i'm reaching for the end of the light / burning in the lava / you can't go and pray this type of pain away” a song describing jimmy’s anxiety and paranoia

i spend too much time in my room - the band camino

stolen from @kindaorangey‘s jimmy playlist (+explanation), this song strongly highlights jimmy’s inner turmoil, him overthinking things, etc

hero - family of the year

“baby needs some protection / but i'm a kid like everyone else” jimmy didn’t ask to be worshipped. he often says that he doesn’t get why everyone looks up to him, “loves” him, etc when all he is is a normal guy

it ain’t me babe - nancy sinatra

similarly to hero, here we have jimmy trying to tell his fans that he isn’t their saviour, he isn’t the one they “want” and “need”

the archer - taylor swift

“i wake in the night, i pace like a ghost / the room is on fire, invisible smoke” you know on wednesday when jimmy comes back from his escape to the park and has a panic attack? this song feels a lot like that; it’s his mistakes and insecurities, the world and other people trying to tear him down, all of this culminating in him feeling unworthy, wondering “who could stay”, but then of course rowan is here for him, he could stay. in the end, however, the first line - “combat, i’m ready for combat” - is repeated, which in the context of iwbft could have a sinister tone - the worst is yet to come

midas - skott

this reminds me of jimmy wondering why the label, their management, and even lister and rowan actually want to go through with the new contract, why they want to be bigger and richer. there’s a lesson about the greed and capitalism of the music industry in there

some nights - fun.

“this is it, boys, this is war / what are we waiting for? / why don't we break the rules already?” fame feels like a war to jimmy by now, which is reflected by the joan of arc and the soldier motif in iwbft. on multiple occasions, he asks rowan and lister to just break away from all of it, rules and conventions be damned “so this is it? / i sold my soul for this? / washed my hands of that for this? / i miss my mom and dad for this? / no, when i see stars, when i s- / when i see stars, that's all they are / when i hear songs, they sound like a swan” once again we have jimmy’s realisation that fame isn’t worth it. he doesn’t see the glamour that everybody claims fame brings. additionally, the swan metaphor refers to the fact that swans only sing once, right before they die, which is in tune with the death motif in iwbft, everything feeling very close to the end additionally, @kindaorangey made some excellent points here

lifeline - we three

so far jimmy has mostly been going with the flow, not putting up much of a fight to get what he wants, letting other people “shiver, feel it, take it, break it, make it what you want and / lose it, choose it, find it , mind it, bruise it, use it how you’re gonna” - it being his life, basically. of course that changes on friday but i’m getting ahead of myself

sometimes - h.e.r.

“i had a plan, i had it mapped out / i knew where i was going when i left out / oh, you couldn't tell me that i wouldn't be there on time / i had some guarantees, i had a deadline / but now i know things change for better or worse / you could say that i'm the same, but i ain't adjusted to all the hurt” - once again, the theme of jimmy’s childhood dreams and hopes ending up worse than he imagined

#breaking my playlists up into smaller and smaller parts each time lol #jimmy kaga-ricci #playlist #osemanverse playlist #iwbft #death mention #panic attack mention

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darkarfs · 4 years ago

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the worst movie tie-ins in the history of wrestling

Wrestling is stupid, and will show its ass at the mere mention of cross-promotion, especially when it comes to movies, which is it's cooler older brother that can get away with a lot more. Hell, the 2nd ever SummerSlam's main event, in 1989, was Hulk Hogan facing the main villain, Tiny Lister as Zeus (RIP), from the film they were both in, No Holds Barred. So wrestling's always wanted a piece of that. So... - Army of the Dead Let's just get this one out of the way. Here's the thing; I thought the WrestleMania Backlash's card was fucking perfect...except for this weird business. WMB MIGHT've been the best show of the pandemic (hot take) were it not for making sure we sell Big Dave's big zombie heist movie. If they had just kept some of the guys in zombie makeup on the Thunderdome's webcam footage, that would have been borderline charming. But instead, the Miz (who was WWE champion 3 months ago, don't forget) and Damien Priest (who they're making WWE's pop-culture liaison so far on the main roster, for some reason) had to sell for zombies in a lumberjack match. If this was the first ever wrestling show you watched with a loved one who had never watched wrestling or hadn't since like, the end of the Attitude Era, would you for a second want them to stick around after Miz and Morrison get, for all intents and purposes, kayfabe killed and eaten, and then watch Damien Priest shoot the logo at the ceiling? My money's on "no." - Shaft Speaking of the Attitude Era, anytime someone tells you that wrestling was cooler in that 3-year time frame, point them to the June 15th of 2000 episode of SmackDown, where a storyline that ran throughout the show followed Patterson and Briscoe through New York City to find Crash Holly and his Hardcore Title. Now, I admit parts of this are kinda funny, like Briscoe just wanting to give up and find a "gen-yoo-WINE New York hot dawg!" That's fun! And who does Crash Holly run into but none other than Shaft, and his woman, the only one who understands this complicated man, John Shaft. So, we have real Samuel L. Jackson, playing fake John Shaft, talking to real/fictional Crash Holly, and man is it weird. Anyway, Shaft agrees to be Crash's bodyguard for the night, and he slaps around Patterson and Briscoe in a nightclub. After all, what better way to get across how cool and badass a character is than having him knock around the fucking Stooges? - The Wrestler Well, this is complicated. The Wrestler, starring ancient wooden lion Mickey Rourke, is a somber tale about an industry that, in its heyday, left people physically spent, washed-up and addicted to adrenaline at best, and dead at worst. It famously moved Roddy Piper to tears because he recognized what destruction and brokenness the industry once left in its wake. Which is why it's super-weird that WWE jumped at the chance to promote maybe the bleakest possible look at their world in 2009, and did so by having Chris Jericho smack the shit out of three old wrestlers at WrestleMania 25, including Roddy Piper. And then have Rourke jump into the ring, wearing his "do you want to take peyote in the desert?" starter kit and bring out his amateur boxing chops. Tonally, it's just really bleak. Like if the creator of Super Size Me screened the premiere at the world's biggest McDonald's. - Bride of Chucky Poor Rick Steiner. You didn't deserve this. You're the sane Steiner. They shouldn't have made you talk to the puppet. So, WCW was heading into Halloween Havoc 1998, and after years of stomping all over the WWF in the ratings, the wheels had come off, and dramatically. Like, all at once. Like the car in the Blues Brothers. To boost PPV buys, they spent a fortune bringing in the Ultimate Warrior to rekindle a feud with Hulk Hogan, mostly by hiding in his fucking mirror. And the Steiner Brothers, one of the best teams of the early 90s, had been feuding with one another since Scott turned on his at SuperBrawl. What was the best way to build hype around this match at Halloween Havoc? Why, to have Rick get into a war of words - and lose - to Chucky. Yes.

Serial killer doll voiced by Brad Dourif, and it's so sad. Chucky cusses Rick out while Rick challenges the fucking doll to a fight, which is promptly ignored (Chucky's video segment is pre-recorded, and you can tell because he starts talking about 3 times in 3 minutes while Rick's mid-promo and missing his cues to stop) and then is made fun of. And all the while, people were probably wondering "what's going on on Vince's show?" and the answer is...that was the episode of Raw where Austin fills Vince's Corvette with cement, which is slightly more badass than being teased by a puppet. - The Goods Here's the thing: Raw is, right now, a bad show. It is bad TV. It's been bad for a while now. And as bad as it is right now, it's still not as fuck-awful as it was in 2009, aka the Age of the Guest Hosts (which, in kayfabe, was given to us by Donald J. Trump, so blame that ambulatory Nazi scrotum for one more thing, he's certainly earned it). For those of you fortunate enough to not be watching what was objectively unwatchable at the time - and hell, I sure as shit wasn't checking in very often - from mid-2009 to around mid-2010, a celebrity would be the special guest host of Monday Night Raw, often to promote a TV show or movie, and it was nearly all horribly-written, cheesy wank. Imagine if every week was the week of the zombie attack at Backlash. That's what it was like. Bob Barker was funny. The Muppets were good. And THAT'S the end of the list. MacGruber coming out to blow up R-Truth made me want to fall on a knife. The A-Team coming out to beat up Virgil was fucking awful. Go straight to fucking HELL, the Three Stooges, Dennis Miller, the reverend Al Sharpton, the 2010 Pittsburgh Steelers, Don Johnson and Jon Heder, the poor entire cast of Hot Tub Time Machine...and then there's Piven. Jeremy Piven. He showed up with Ken Jeong to promote a movie no one remembers...called the Goods. He stunk up several segments, infamously called SummerSlam "the Summer Fest" and then got roughed up by John Cena. Wrestling's the worst. Stop watching. And many did. For a looooooong time. - Robocop 2 This one's infamous, so I'll keep it brief. Robocop 2 came out in 1990, and goddamn, I don't know how much money the producers threw at WCW, but it was enough for them to rebrand an entire PPV "Capitol Combat: the Return of Robocop" and marketed the entire thing around the fancy metallic gentleman. The branding really made it seem like Robert Cop was old friends with the promotion, and indeed, old friends with Sting. Makes sense; two big, heroic idiots running on BASIC. He had been feuding with the Four Horsemen, who locked him in a cage at ringside. Out comes Robocop, called completely straight by Jim Ross, who rips the cage door off his hinges, and then leaves. An accumulated 85 seconds of screen time. Totally worth being the centerpiece of this PPV! But a little context as to why WCW fans hated it so much: 1989, the year before, was regarded by WCW fans as one of the best in company history. The era that gave us stuff like Chi-Town Rumble and the still-very-much-lauded peak of the Steamboat/Flair feud. To go from that to Robocop was seen as a bit of a slap in the face, because WCW was always seen as the more traditional "wrasslin'" company and was never into cheesy pop-culture crossovers, which is why the last one...is all the funnier.

- Ready To Rumble First of all, those dumbasses at Turner had to give Michael Buffer - who they still had on retainer - around $350,000 just to use that title, because he owns the trademark to that phrase. Strike 127 million, capitalism, that a guy gets to own a phrase and gets paid an obscene amount when he or anyone else uses it. Secondly, I initially wasn't going to do movies where the promotion itself is producing the movie, or oh holy HELL would See No Evil and the infamous May 19 shit be on here. But unlike See No Evil, this had a hand in killing a decades-old wrestling promotion, so it feels weird to not include it. On April 7th, 2000, bad movie Ready To Rumble was released, a film about two hapless dorks trying to help Oilver Platt, aka the lawyer from the West Wing, become WCW World Heavyweight Champion. Two weeks later, to promote the movie, they made David Arquette, the lead actor in the movie, the WCW World Heavyweight Champion. He pinned Eric Bischoff, who wasn't the champion, of course, in a match where he was teamed with Diamond Dallas Page, his best pal and the company's top babyface at the time, but who is also one of the villains in the film to make it extra confusing for the mainstream casual audience the movie was made to attract. And, to be fair, Arquette didn't want to do it, NO ONE really wanted to do it, and it tanked viewership for WCW once and for all. At the very least, David took his payday from the wrestling appearances and the film and gave it to the families of Owen Hart, Brian Pillman and to Darren Drozdov, who had been paralyzed from the neck down in a wrestling match the previous year.

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smegdwarf · 4 years ago

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But Who Could Love Me? (Rimmer x Reader) - Chapter 15 (1/2)

Warnings: All fluff!

Summary: Basically giving Rimmer the love he deserves.

It was finally exam time and Rimmer was bouncing on his feet faster than Tigger on drugs.

“Oh I can’t do this” Rimmer grumbled as he paced up and down nervously.

“Why did you agree to it then?” You smiled as he came to a stop.

“You were kissing me!” Rimmer rambled “Do honestly expect me to process anything being said to me when we’re kissing?”

“Yeah I guess not” You giggled as Rimmer continued pacing again.

“Why did you suggest this?” Rimmer mumbled “I’m gonna fail, I know I am”

“Arnie, stop pacing!” You kept your voice calm as he came to a stop in front of you “Once you get over this hurdle of anxiety you’ll smash it”

“How?” Rimmer looked terrified, he’d done the exam so many times and failed, he had next to no hope left in himself.

“You’ll be fine, take a few deep breaths and just focus on answering the questions, don’t worry about anyone else. The boys don’t know you’re taking it again and I won’t love you any less, ok?” You managed to gently move his arms from across his chest as he took a deep exhale “Darling you can do this!”

“Arnold it’s time for your exam” Holly reminded him as the door to the exam room opened.

“Oh god, wish me luck” Rimmer looked at the room.

“Arnie you don’t need luck, you’ll be fine” You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek “Go get ‘em!”

Rimmer gave you a worried smile before walking into the exam room, you waited until the doors were fully closed before leaving. Making your way down to the hanger to meet Kryten and Lister in Blue Midget.

“Ayeee there she is!” Lister exclaimed.

“Sorry boys had to take care of something” You smiled as you joined them at the dashboard.

“No problem ma’am” Kryten smiled.

“Shall we get this baby going then?” Lister grinned as he and Kryten started the start up procedure.

“How long will this take?” You asked curiously, wanting to make sure you were back before Rimmer finished the exam.

“About an hour or so” Lister replied “No boyfriend?”

“He’s busy” You replied bluntly.

“Busy? Doing what?” You could tell he was still grinning.

“Just busy ok” You were far more concerned about how well Rimmer was doing, hoping he hadn’t just walked in the exam room and fainted or was just writing ‘I’m a fish’ over and over.

“Alright sorry I said anythin’” Lister turned to look at Kryten.

“Look can we just focus on getting to this planetoid?”

“Erm yes ma’am” You could tell Krytens panic mode was kicking in.

Luckily you and the boys really weren’t too far from the planetoid so as long as you could get the other two to move quickly you could be back in time to meet Rimmer.

“Mr Lister, sir, this planetoid doesn’t have a breathable atmosphere” Kryten turned to Lister.

“Well I guess I’m staying here then?” Lister replied sarcastically.

“Come on Krytes, let’s get this over with” You sighed, with you and Kryten not needing oxygen you decided to go and explore.

Hopping off Blue Midget you were greeted with a barren wasteland. Some kind of sand covered the surface for miles.

“Well this is a bust?” You grumbled.

“See anything?” Listers voice bellowed through the speaker in your watch.

“Nope!” You replied, putting extra emphasis on the n and the p.

“Suggest we walk around ma’am” Kryten suggested as you started walking.

“There’s nothing here Krytes?” You really weren’t in the mood.

The two of you had walked for what felt like almost 5 miles and still there was nothing.

“Krytes can we call it?” You groaned.

“Wait!” Kryten stopped, looking at the scanner.

“Kryten there is nothing here!” You almost shouted, your temper threatening to bubble over.

“But ma’am, the scanner?” Kryten replied.

“The scanners are over 3 million years old” You sighed.

“It says there’s a life sign?” You took the scanner from Kryten's rubber hand.

“That life sign...” You grumbled as you gave the scanner a good whack “Is Lister in Blue Midget!”

“Ah” Kryten replied sheepishly.

“Remind me later and I’ll see what I can do to update them, can we go now?”

“Erm of course and yes ma’am” Kryten looked at you a little embarrassed.

As you trudged back to Blue Midget, it was getting more and more likely that you were not going to make it back in time.

“So it was completely empty then?” Lister asked.

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” You groaned impatiently.

“We’re going as fast as we can man” Lister replied, a little taken back by your attitude.

“This is Blue Midgets top speed ma’am” Kryten chimed in as you took yourself off to the storage room.

As soon as Blue Midget hit the floor of the landing bay you were out the door in a heartbeat, pelting along the corridors and cursing the lifts for not going fast enough.

“My god I really am turning into Arnold” You chuckled to yourself as the lift reached your floor before pelting down one last corridor.

“There you are!” Rimmer gave you a tense smile while you were doubled over trying to catch your breath, some of your pixels flickering from running so fast.

“Sorry I’m late” You tried to take a deep breath “Lister and Krytes wanted me to go check out a planetoid with them”

“It’s alright, it was only a couple of minutes” Rimmer replied.

“How did it go?” You asked as he shrugged.

“Can we talk about something else while we wait for the results?” Rimmer asked as you took a seat on the floor with your back against the wall.

“I really need to exercise more” You laughed through deep breaths as Rimmer sat down beside you.

“Or you could just walk along the corridors like a normal person?” Rimmer smiled, placing his hand on your thigh.

“You should know by now that I’m not normal” You tilted your head back against the wall as you looked at him.

“It’s what I like most about you” Rimmer chuckled “That and...”

“Yes alright” You laughed as you stopped him “How long does this usually take?”

“A few minutes ...the longest few minutes of your existence” Rimmer continued to make jokes to distract himself from the overwhelming anxiety that was threatening to surface.

“Wake me up when they’re ready” You smiled as you let your head rest on his shoulder.

“Oi don’t fall asleep on me” Rimmer teased as he gently nudged you in the side before resting his head against yours.

“I’ll try not too” You giggled as you put your arm underneath his as your fingers entwined.

“Did you have fun with the others today?” Rimmer tried to keep the conversation going.

“Not really” You sighed.

“Really why?” Rimmer looked at you a little sad.

“Well the planetoid was empty for one, just miles and miles of sand” You replied “and I was too worried about you in that exam”

“Hey you don’t need to worry about me?” Rimmer smiled as you raised your eyebrow at him “You know what I mean”

“I just want you to be happy that’s all” You gently caressed the back of his hand with your thumb.

“I am happy, I’ve got you haven’t I?” Rimmer spoke softly as the machine in the wall in front you started making noises before chucking out an envelope “Here we go!”

Rimmer stood up first, offering you his hands to help you up and gesturing for you to take the envelope.

“Sure you want me to open it?” You asked, the envelope shaking a little in your hand.

“Positive” Rimmer took a deep breath out “Oh god”

“Remember...” You smiled opening it “No matter what this says I still love you”

“Just tell me” Rimmer was starting to get impatient, clear in his mind that he had failed “I’ve failed haven’t I? Why do I keep doing this to myself? I know I’m never going to pass the damn thing so what’s the point? ...what?”

A small smile started to spread across your face as Rimmer looked at you confused.

“So... when should I start calling you officer?” You grinned as his mouth dropped open.

“Are you...” Rimmer was completely speechless “You’re messing with me right?”

“Darling you did it, you passed the exam!” You tried to get a reaction out of him.

“Can I see it?” He asked for the paper, taking it from your hand and pausing to look at it “I ...I actually passed?”

“I told you you’d smash it!” You smiled sweetly as a grin slowly took over Rimmer’s face as he lifted you off your feet and span you round “Congratulations officer!”

“I can’t believe I actually passed it” Rimmer grinned as he put you down, his eyes meeting yours “and I couldn’t have done it without you”

“Hey this is your accomplishment” You spoke softly “Want to go tell the others?”

“They’ll just find a way to ruin it” Rimmer sighed.

“Not if they want an ass kicking from me!” You laughed as Rimmer smiled “Come on let’s go!”

You tugged his hand but he didn’t move as he pulled you back towards him.

“Wait” Rimmer held your hands in his as he leant into kiss you, resting his forehead against yours “Thank you!”

“You don’t need to thank me” You replied.

“But I want too, I couldn’t have passed that exam without your help and support” Rimmer spoke softly, his hands moving to your waist as he pulled you in for one last kiss.

“You’re welcome, officer!” You smiled, it was going to take some time for both of you to get used to Rimmer’s new rank.

“Let’s go tell the others” Rimmer replied, taking your hand in his as you started walking.

Thankfully the others were all in Rimmer and Listers sleeping quarters when you walked in.

“Oh you alright Y/N, Rimmer?” Lister mumbled not taking his eyes away from the tv screen.

“That’s Officer Rimmer to you Listy!” Rimmer smirked as you gave his hand a squeeze.

“Oh get out of town Rimmer” Lister shot him down.

“He’s bluffin’” Cat grumbled.

“You didn’t take the exam again did you sir?” Kryten looked worried.

“I knew this would happen, they don’t believe me?” Rimmer looked at you for help.

“Right smegheads, at the table!” You commanded as the other three dropped what they were doing and immediately scurried to the table, earning a slight chuckle from Rimmer beside you.

“How are you going to get us to believe he passed the exam?” Cat furrowed his brows as you gave Rimmer a nod as he stepped forward to place the exam results on the table “No way!”

“He did it? He smegging did it!” Lister exclaimed.

“Oh congratulations sir ...or should I say officer!” Kryten smiled.

“Thank you Kryten” Rimmer replied.

“How on Io did you pass that exam?” Lister still couldn’t believe it.

“Did you use a mind patch again?” Cat stuck up his nose.

“Ahem!” You loudly cleared your throat to suggest they shut up before you gave them a whooping.

“I passed because I had a little help” Rimmer smiled sweetly at you, his arm appearing round your waist as he pulled you into his side to kiss the top of your head.

“Oh for crying out loud” Lister moaned “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Ah Listy, Y/N already ranked over you and now I’m an officer we can do whatever we want and there’s nothing any of you three can do about it” Rimmer had a smug grin on his face.

“Yeah I know” Lister sighed “but honestly man congratulations”

“Thanks Listy” Rimmer gave him a nod.

“Yeah congrats” Cat was hesitant to say it but he knew you’d never let him forget it if he didn’t.

“Hey why don’t we have a party?” Lister grinned.

“What?” Rimmer looked a little confused, he couldn’t possibly be being nice.

“To celebrate you passing the exam and becoming an officer, we know how much you’ve wanted it and you deserve a proper celebration” Lister smiled, you were starting to wonder whether you were actually dreaming, Lister being nice to Rimmer was a very rare occurrence.

“I don’t know” Rimmer mumbled.

“Hey you got a break, make the most of it!” You smiled.

“Alright then” Rimmer looked over at Lister.

“Brutal, Krytes you’re on food and drink, Cat you’re with me let’s go! Party starts at 8” Lister threw out orders before him Cat and Kryten all left the room.

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #arnold j rimmer #rimmer #arnold judas rimmer #hologram #arnold rimmer x reader #fanfic #rimmer x reader #red dwarf fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #fluff fic

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imnotgoinganywhereok · 4 years ago

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Yeah, I’m back on my Sims 4 bullshit! („ಡωಡ„) After an entire month I started to miss my Sim children. So, I decided to visit them once again and have some memorable screenshots, especially since I only started sharing my Sims experience from 5th and 6th generation. I’d be grateful if you checked it out one day, I think it can be somewhat investing! And there will be more content to come...

Recently I noted down in my little notebook all basic information and cool trivia about each of my Sim children, and I decided to share some of it here. There is a limit of only 10 pictures in one post, and I was afraid the post would be long but, to be fair, this is my blog and I’m doing what I want now! And, I will merely touch upon what is already established up to Delphini (gen 7). Again, there will be more in the future. Apologies in advance (ง ื▿ ื)ว

Generation one: Valentina Owl. I created her back in December 2019 when I got Discover University for Christmas! She’s a “human” Sim and I created her through a story option in CAS, and immediately started having a blast. I was not a huge fan of such USAmericanised concept of university but the game was fun. She was the only one who lived up to be an elder (and then die) because back then I thought I’m gonna have a game where my Sims age and stuff. That quickly didn’t work out for me because I missed her already and decided that I’m gonna fill my entire save with just Owl family. Valentina studied Communications and worked as a policewoman at the same time. A lonely workaholic with only her lavish garden, she finally settled for a relationship with Lilith Vatore. As I noticed in this post, there was no marriage so my entire bloodline comes from a bastard. Lovely! She died from receiving a flower arragement with Death Flower scent. Now she’s on the Gallery.

Generation two: Herbert Owl. He was the one who directly killed Valentina. He mastered Gardening like Valentina, and then Flower Arranging - unfortunate for her. Because of Lilith, he was a vampire - and to be fair, the consequences are haunting me to this day! So, a few trivia, maybe. He is super smart, lives in Glimmerbrook like the next two generations, and has a small garden in his house where he grows crops for husband’s, Morgyn Ember’s, potions. He prefers black and purple clothes, both in his human and vampire form. He wrote only one book in his life, translating to The Real Story of Valentina Owl - whether it’s to cover the murder or not remains a mystery. He makes flower arrangements to this day. Ah, he’s also immune to Sun thanks to one of his vampire perks! That sort of helped him take a better care of his son whom he loves very much.

Generation three: Harry Owl. There is not that much I can say about him. A perfectionist like his father (Herbert), he’s blond and wears both masculine and feminine clothes like his other father (Morgyn), but this is where the comparisons end. See, in my mind he wasn’t a good person, despite having a Compassionate trait. He cared for his grandmother’s (Valentina’s) garden only because of his father’s (Herbert’s) feelings; later he shun away gardening. As a teenager, he often used to drink plasma without permission even if he wasn’t thirsty. Of course, he was also a really bad father, often berating his son for not being “good enough” or not paying attention to him at all. All Harry cared about were his paintings that he was creating in his private office. He married Miverva Charm, started living with her family, and still decided to only socialise with her. No one really knows what made him choose her.

Generation four: Nereus Owl. Born a vampire, he cured himself out of vampirism as soon as he could and later became a spellcaster. All he ever did in life was seemed like a rebellion against his father - clothes, flacking off during studies, loving gardening and shuning away painting. Well, it seemed to his father that Nereus is doing this to spite him. Despite this borderline abuse (because how abusive can Sims really be?), Nereus claims his childhood was relatively happy. Of course, he has no clue where his Erratic trait came from! Or why he grew to be a Perfectionist as well. All he knows is that having over 11 different plants in his garden is what makes him happy and that he doesn’t care if his father approves of him anymore! You could see him for the first time here. What is more, as he grew older, he found that he loves playing the violin and his wife, L. Faba, supports him in any way she can. His natural hair colour is red; thanks, grey-haired Minerva - that one bit me in the ass for next three generations.

Generation five: Elijah Tane Owl. Vegetarian like his father, he was the first one to attend Foxbury instead of Britechester. His father Nereus claimed it should be Elijah’s choice what he wants to do in life, giving Elijah freedom Nereus never really had. Elijah studied Computer Science but was a man of many talents. He was a fan of Handiness, Cooking (especially grilling), and Fitness. He often played (and sang) serenades on a keyboard for his wife, Alessandra Robles, almost maxing out his Piano skill. What made him date Alessandra was a shared Vegetarian trait. His favourite colour accent in clothing is green. He grew six strawberry plants because he wished to have a daughter (yeah, only in Sims 4 lol). There are more info about him in my previous posts as it was this generation when I started publishing my game progress, starting with this one (although my main focus was on Salem).

Generation six: Salem Owl (previously Lavender Owl). There is tons and tons of posts about her, her wife Luna Villareal (both are adults, calm down FBI), and their five daughers: Amaryllis, Wisteria, Delphini (remember this one), Hemlock, and Poppy. All you need to know about her is that she is a hard-working mother who climbed her way to the top and even higher to secure the future of her daughers. She hoped for three children and played with On the Dark Ley-Line lot trait to perhaps have some vampire offspring. Instead, she had twins (Ama and Wis) first, and then triplets (Del, Hem, and Poppy) later! She taught her daughers instruments/skills like Piano, Pipe Organ, and Violin. Once she realised Wis and Hem were vampires, she started growing three Plasma fruit trees, with time maxing out her Gardening skill. She’s on very bad terms with her grandma, L. Faba, but tries to keep in touch with her grandpa, Nereus. She has a bad reputation because of her Insensitive trait and a handful of enemies. She’s sorry for what happened between Lilith and Valentina in the past but the Vatore twins don’t mind. She’s ginger, workaholic, has spiky ears, and a lot of freckles. She’s still very good friends with Vladislaus.

Generation seven (A): Amaryllis Owl. She’s colour-coded (pink) and her clothes and room reflect that. She wrote at least 10 books, has spiky ears after her mother (Salem), and is the older daugher in the house. Eventually, she married Candy Behr. Ama’s twin sister is Wisteria and they share the same eyeliner type. Despite having a twin, her skin tone is lighter than Wis’ but the same as Hem and Poppy’s. She inherited a feminine walk from her mother (Luna). Doesn’t know much about Vampire Lore despite having vampire sisters. She loved doing everything with her twin sister. Amaryllis used to be a naturally-born/spawned hybrid of a vampire and a spellcaster but settled for the latter.

Generation seven (B): Wisteria Owl. She’s colour-coded (purple) and her room reflects that. As a vampire, she aims for a gothic look, often wearing hats and gloves to hide from the sun (with time, she turned into a heliphobe). She’s an actress and a B-Lister. She has a pet frog in her room. To reach her room, one has to walk through Ama’s room first - and they’re both okay with that. Wis is the only one to have the same skin tone as her mother (Salem) and the same nose as her other mother (Luna). Her vampiric form changes her eye colour to glowing purple. She loved goign to karaoke bars with her older twin sister Ama, which led Wis to maxing out Singing skill. As a fully fledged vampire, she decided to reach out to Herbert - they’re good friends.

Generation seven (C): Delphini Owl. Same as Amaryllis - naturally-born/spawned hybrid of a vampire and a spellcaster but settled for the latter. She’s colour-coded (dark blue) and her clothes and room reflect that. She always knew she’s going to leave the house and eventually create more Owls. She pursued the rich life and moved out to Del Sol Valley, eventually becoming a Global Superstar. She used to work in a Musician Branch but quit after time - blame the Freegan trait. She has three cats and lives with her daugher Morgan, and her [Morgan’s] husband Kaito Kaneko, and their adopted son Leven Owl (all of which I’ll talk about another time). She received a lot of awards (meeting with fans, Perfect Llama to name the few) and is very happy that her daugher lives with her. She used to romance with Flower Bunny, and then Octavia Moon - althought the initial plan was to go after Octavia’s husband, Thorne. Del often drinks but since there’s no alcoholism in Sims 4, let’s pretent she likes to stay hydrated! She owes half of her success (or namely, money for and expensive house) to her mother Salem. Loves to sunbathe!

Generation seven (D): Hemlock Owl. She’s colour-coded (white) and her clothes and room reflect that. She’s a make-up enthusiast and a little spoiled by the rich life. Also, she’s very Squeamish and Noncommittal. Despite being a vampire, she’s not interested in improving Vampire Lore skill at all. In her vampire form, her eyes change to glowing white. Her face as as many freckles as her mother’s (Salem). She’s the middle child in the triplets business and her best friend is Poppy. She used to wear glasses as a child... What more can I say? She’s living the dream!

Generation seven (E): Poppy Owl. She’s colour-coded (red) and her clothes and room (and a neon light) reflect that. The youngest daughter in the house. Wild and a Bro, she’s the perfect candidate to hang out with. She’s the only child to be born a human - which most likely makes Luna very happy. She’s a robots enthusiast - not Robotics skill but only figurines of robots. She’s a Geek so what else should we expect? She has her own TV and a stereo in her room (as well as a bubble machine). Poppy often wears her PJs around the house because they’re the comfiest. Despite being a Bro, she doesn’t really have friends beside her family. She’s the one to walk the family dog, Milk.

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neoangelic · 5 years ago

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Can I request prompt number 99 with Johnny please?🥺

HARD TO STAY MAD || johnny suh

summary: As a couple who both works together as photographers, Johnny likes to push your buttons. This time you’ve had enough.

“I fell in love with you, not them.”

PAIRING: johnny x reader

WORDCOUNT: 1,112 words

hope its fluffier to know that the “you’re short” part happened to me irl (but w my mans who is not my mans qq, so no romantic connotation but still pretty heart fluttering)

Johnny doesn’t pay attention when you’re struggling with the lighting. He’s too busy laughing with the beautiful model.

People are always jealous that you two get to work together as a couple, but it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. For example, when Johnny gets the job offers as the photographer and you have to work as his assistant. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem. But you haven’t been able to land any jobs recently and it’s been weighing down on your conscience. Johnny says it’s okay. You know it’s not. Another example—girls just can’t get enough of him.

“Okay, beautiful! That shot was great.” Johnny hits the shutter button one last time before he steps back. “Let’s take five—” he winks at her. Your grip on the hot light ‘slips’ and it swings its focus from the model to the photographer.

“Oops,” you say, deadpan, when the model leaves. Johnny shields his eyes.

“What’s going on with you today?” He tears his eyes away and glares at the floor. “Are you trying to mess me up?”

You scoff, switching the light off. “Because I’m just that evil, right?”

“Are you trying to argue with me?” Johnny takes the camera off the tripod and aggressively clicks through the pictures he just took. The cut-off he was wearing gave you a clear view of his tense muscles. Oh. Maybe you pushed him a bit too far this time.

“I’m not trying, I am.” You walk up next to him and see what he’s looking at. Of course, nearly all of them are perfect. “It’s already unfair that you’re the better photographer—gotta rub it in by flirting with the subject too?”

He leaves the camera on a stool, turning to face you with a smoldering look. “I wasn’t flirting, baby.” Johnny cocks his perfectly shaped eyebrow.

You’re taken aback by how attractive your boyfriend is when he’s mad. Then, he smiles as if that was what he was trying to do.

You comb your fingers through your hair, “look—you have to wrap up soon. There’s another appointment for you at 4:30, remember?” It wasn’t right for you to be annoyed at him.

Johnny doesn’t take his eyes off the screen, zooming in to the woman’s beautiful face. “Yeah, I know.”

“She’s pretty, right?”

“Yeah.” He says before turning his camera on you. Johnny fiddles with the settings for a bit. “But you’re prettier.” He snaps a photo.

You flush. “Don’t take pictures of me!” You’re glad that the rest of your crew are busy with their break.

“Why not?”

“And you don’t have to lie to me.” His words couldn’t be further from the truth. Johnny’s model this time was the ambassador for Dyor, after all. She was the prettiest model you’d ever seen. “She’s prettier. And good at modeling too. I should be grateful I’m surrounded by such talent.”

Johnny frowns, “you’re talented too.”

“Sure I am,” you mutter. “That’s why nobody books me—look, I’m gonna go call your next appointment and ask them when they’ll be ready.”

And you leave.

________________________________________________________________

The model is giving Johnny those goo-goo eyes again. The shoot ended. She should’ve left already. Instead, she’s flirting him up and it looks like she’s got him wrapped around her pretty, manicured finger.

“These pictures look so amazing, Johnny.”

“All due to you—you’re really photogenic.”

“You wouldn’t be so bad as a model yourself. You should try it sometime.”

“Maybe I’ll give you a call?” They both laugh. “Sure, I’ll give it a go.”

“No, but you’re actually so talented. Why don’t you start working with A-listers?”

“You know what, I think you’re my favorite person that I’ve worked with yet.”

“Actually, Johnny, about that call…would you mind giving me your n—”

You clap your hands. “Sorry, miss but you’ve got to go. Mr. Suh, we’re packing up now—we have to get to the next location.” There’s an ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach as you see her put her hand on his shoulder.

She gives him a sultry smile, “I’ll see you, then?”

“Sure.” Johnny nods, stiffly. He’s fully aware that you’re livid. He makes it a point to pack up his things quickly after she leaves with her staff. You only call him Mr. Suh when he’s in trouble.

You start bringing down the lighting set up with a lot of frustration. It was too tall for you to pull down without having to break your fingers. The strobe is top-heavy and you’ve never extended it up this high before. You manage to retract one of the sections, but it slips from your fingers with a loud clang. You groan, having to drag over an apple crate to stand on for the next section.

As you reach out for the light, Johnny rushes over, “I can deal with that.”

“I’m not useless,” you huff. Although if you hadn’t kept the sandbags on the base, the strobe would have probably fallen over. “I can do it.”

“_____, look at me.”

“Had fun having that model all over you?” You cross your arms. “She’s the favorite person you’ve worked with? Not your girlfriend? Oh, right, I don’t work with you—hell, I basically work for you. Without me, you’d be shooting celebrities right now.”

Johnny steps onto the apple crate with you. Your heart skips a beat at the proximity. You move back, nearly tripping as you try to create some space on the tiny platform. He holds you by the small of your back and pulls you close to him. He laughs, looking down on you.

“Babe, you’re so short.” Johnny’s eyes are filled with love and affection. One would think he’s looking at a puppy. With one hand, he effectively retracts the rest of the strobe light. “Too bad your temper is, too.”

“Johnny—”

“I wouldn’t leave you for the world. Its always gonna be you and me. I don’t have time for celebrities or models.” He pulls you even closer and leans in for a kiss. “I fell in love with you, not them.”

You panic as he steps off the crate, feeling flustered by his PDA. Johnny is still taller than you. “Hey, you can’t just—”

“Kiss you? Yeah, I can. I’m your boyfriend.” He teases. “And wanna hear a secret?”

“What?” You hiss, trying to stay mad—and failing at it.

Johnny brings his mouth close to your ear. “I fell in love with your photography, too. That’s why I started shooting in the first place.”

You’re taken aback once again. “But we met after you started photography.”

“That’s what you think,” Johnny winks, putting a finger to his lips. “But that’s a secret for another day.”

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nooowestayandgetcaught · 4 years ago

Note

1-36 ALL OF EM. ALL OF EM.

THIS IS WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR, BRO. ALL FANDOMS.

1. First ship you remember

Peter Pan/Wendy Darling (Disney’s Peter Pan) is my best guess as far back as I can remember. That’s the original OTP next to Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle (DCU) and Ariel/Prince Eric (Disney’s The Little Mermaid).

2. Your newest ship

Hmmm,,, I haven’t really watched anything new,,,,,,, but I mean I did get into Geralt/Jaskier (Netflix’s The Witcher) recently. I really like them.

3. Favourite ship ever

STARES LONGINGLY AT PETER/WENDY

I go between them and Mulan/Li Shang (Disney’s Mulan) and Korra/Asami Sato (Avatar: Legend of Korra) and Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov (Yuuri On Ice) and Arya Stark/Gendry Waters (GOT/ASOIAF) for my favorite ships of all time

4. Favourite m/f ship

I grew up on the His Dark Materials books and I always was a Lyra Belaqua/Will Parry shipper and that has never ever changed. They’re so sweet. I WOULD LIKE PHILIP PULLMAN TO BRING THEM IN THE NEXT BOOK THAT IS SUPPOSED TO COME OUT. DO NOT FUCK AROUND.

5. Favourite m/m ship

you really can’t wrong with Ash Lynx/Eiji Okumura (Banana Fish) except you can and I don’t care,,,, everyone’s alive and fine and not depressed,,,,,,,

6. Favourite f/f ship

do you know how much my heart broke when they refused to do Emma Swan/Regina Mills (Once Upon A Time) EVEN THOUGH everything in canon said they were True Love????? now I’m just pissed,,,,, I can’t let go of them

7.Most innocent ship

OH GOD,,, KATARA/AANG (AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER). THE FLUFFIEST. THE HAPPIEST. THE SWEETEST BABIES.

8.Most fluffy ship

WHAT DID I LITERALLY JUST SAY???

9.Most angsty ship

good god it’s Clarke Griffin/Lexa (The 100) but I still love them and I know I wasn’t THERE for Lexa dying but I’m STILL livid about what they did and how they treated the LGBT+ community and I’m gonna throw hands,,,, ever since it happened and Clexa is mentioned in the show,,, it’s always so painful,,,,, Clarke is not letting Lexa go and tbh she shouldn’t and I’m gonna get mad again

10. Most smutty ship

Smut is optional, not a requirement for my ships.

11. Ship that you would never have wanted in canon but like in fanworks

I don’t fucking trust MCU so they can have none of my ships!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

12. Character that you can only imagine in one ship

BOOOOOOOOOOOOORING.

13. Most shippable character

Merlin (BBC Merlin) and Harry Potter.

14. Character that you can’t imagine in any ship

Any character I don’t like.

15. Favourite poly ship

I love love love love Rey/Finn/Poe Dameron. Finnreypoe. Jedistormpilot. I fell in love with Rey/Finn and Finn/Poe through “The Force Awakens” and then saw in the novelization that there was hints of Rey/Poe Dameron and LATCHED onto it. Don’t even fight me with “The Rise Of Skywalker” because it was COMPLETELY a Jedistormpilot movie and that’s all I was there for. Those three characters.

16. Characters that you kinda ship but prefer as brotp FRIENDSHIP

since I think Katniss might be aroace,,, I wanna say Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark and don’t get wrong,,,, I do ship but more platonic ship

17. Characters that you ship and can’t imagine to be friends

Spike himself said that Buffy Summers/Angel (Buffy The Vampire Slayer) dynamic could never be friends and only friends and he’s right

18. Guilty pleasure ship

GUILT IS CRINGE!! CRINGE CULTURE IS DEAD!!! YOU SHIP THINGS TO YOUR HEART’S DELIGHT!!!!! HAVE FUN!!!

19. Ship that you never expected to ship.

I was straightbaited by Black Sails while watching as it aired and never saw Captain James Flint/Thomas Hamilton coming,,,, or them unburying the gays,,,,, I thought the whole time Thomas and James were sharing Miranda,,,

20. Ship that you liked but don’t anymore

at one point I liked Callum/Soren (The Dragon Prince) but I’m over them and I’m over that show and I don’t support Aaron fucking Ehasz

21. Ship that one day you were thinking of and thought “wait,when I started shipping it?”

I DO THAT LITERALLY WITH EVERY SHIP I HAVE

22. Ship that you immediately fall in love with after one scene despite not considering it before.

aahhhh I saw Toni Topez interact with Cheryl Blossom from Riverdale after their confrontation which was like,,,, the first time they ever spoke to each other,,,, but then the diner scene happened, and now I ship them. And they’re canon.

23. Poly ship that you ship despite not shipping some of the characters in it outside of poly ship.

I only ship Ryn/Maddie Bishop/Ben Powell with each other. That’s it. IT’S A CANON INTERRACIAL LGBT+ SHIP. IT’S REAL. I’M SO HAPPY.

24. Biggest notp

Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon (DCU),,,,, oooh don’t get me fucking started

25. Favourite foe yay ship

L/Light (Death Note). That’s a classic. I know Light made sure his ass was murdered but c’mon,,, c’mon,,,, THE CREDITS TO THE LAST EPISODE THO??? DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT???? THAT WAS GAY AS HELL.

26. Characters that you like in every dynamic (lovers,friends,enemies)

we gotta go with Doctor/Master (Doctor Who),,, they’ve been all three,,,,, nobody can tell me otherwise and that’s the beauty of these two! My favorite versions are 1) Thirteen/Dhawan!Master, 2) Ten/Simms!Master, and 3) Twelve/Missy and if you add Simms!Master with the last one then it’s GOLDEN

27. Ship that you expected to ship before reading/watching franchise and you do

I saw gifs and things of Anne Lister/Ann Walker (Gentleman Jack) before I started watching and I already knew I was gonna fall in love AND I DID

28. Ship that you expected to ship before reading/watching franchise and you don’t

this might be a weird one but I really thought I was gonna ship Victor Van Dort/Victoria Everglot or Victor Van Dort/Emily (Corpse Bride) and I just didn’t for either of them. I DO HOWEVER SHIP EMILY/VICTORIA EVERGLOT.

29. Favourite crossover ship

OHHHHH we gotta go with Kate Kane/Kara Danvers (Arrowverse) like look at them look at the gay it’s like SuperBat but the female millennial version

30. Favourite canon ship

Princess Bubblegum/Marceline (Adventure Time)! I’m overjoyed they are canon! I’m not done watching all of this show but still,,,,, and that means we can get Prince Gumball/Marshall Lee to be confirmed canon too?? Yes??

31. Favourite non-canon ship

I know we can’t like CONFIRM in canon but Frodo Baggins/Samewise Gamgee are in love and there’s no denying this. They’re canon enough to me.

32. Favourite ship for hurt-comfort

All of my ships are good for hurt/comfort and whump. I don’t discriminate.

33. Ship that you ship in one installment of franchise but not in other (for example in movie,but not in the book this movie is based on)

I ship Hannibal Lecter/Clarice Starling in the movies for Hannibal related things, even though Will Graham exists in them, but I ship Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham for NBC’s Hannibal 100% and won’t ship them with anyone else

34. Ship that you never expected to ship when you were younger but here you are

I never expected to ship Harry Potter/Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger all together years down the road,,,,, since as a kid I flip-flopped between Ron/Hermione & Harry/Me,,,, er,,,,,,,,, I mean Harry/My OC That Was Definitely Not Me At All and Harry/Hermione but here we are

35. Ship that you have kinda love/hate relationship with

right now it’s Rue Bennett/Jules Vaughn (HBO’s Euphoria) because they’re so cute,,, they really are,,, but they can be so bad together and I hate that! I just want it to work out but Jules doesn’t understand her own feelings,,, and is kinda fucking around with Rue’s feelings,,,,,, and Rue needs to deal with her drug addiction problems first,,,, but let’s see what happens for Season 2

36. Characters that you can’t decide if you prefer as ship or brotp

okay FIRST OFF we don’t “brotp” anything no more because the term was created with homophobic connotations so replace it with “friendship” and honestly I can’t decide if I like Lucifer/Chloe Decker (Netflix’s Lucifer) as a romantic or platonic ship or somewhere between. I haven’t decided.

#ask #glove23 #long post

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rimmers-swimming-certificate · 5 years ago

Note

"You could have died"

(Dialogue Prompts)

“You could have died, you know,” Rimmer said. He paced the room, back and forth, glancing at Lister nervously from time to time, as though checking that he was still there. “What the smeg were you thinking?

Lister lay in the bottom bunk. The chances of him being able to get himself into the top one in his current state were slim to none. Everything hurt, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. Even his hair hurt. Was that possible? He hadn’t thought so, but apparently it was.

“That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Lister,” Rimmer told him. “I really want to know what exactly was going through your mind when you decided to leap off that cliff like some kind of suicidal lemming? You could have died! If it wasn’t for an incredible stroke of luck, you would be dead right now, and I’d be having this conversation with a corpse. Or a hologram. How would you like that, hmm? We only have one hard light light bee you know.”

Lister rolled his eyes, and then wished that he hadn’t. That hurt too. In addition to the broken leg, he had a concussion that was making the room spin, plus bruised ribs and general bruising and muscle aches all over his body from the impact. All in all, he was very much not in the mood for this.

“I’d have loved that, actually,” Rimmer continued. “If you ended up a hologram. It’d serve you right. By the way, when did you last get a holoscan? You should go get another one as soon as you’re healed up. If you do die, it wouldn’t be any fun to gloat about it to someone who doesn’t remember this conversation.”

Lister closed his eyes. If Rimmer would just stop talking, he could get some sleep. He was sure that if he could just get some sleep, he would feel better.

“Go on then,” Rimmer told him. “Tell me what you were thinking.”

Lister licked his lips. “Rimmer, can we do this another time?”

“No. No we can’t. I just want to point out that you absolutely would not enjoy being dead, Lister.”

With his eyes still closed, Lister sighed. “I didn’t ‘leap off the cliff’, I fell.”

“You’re forgetting, I was there, Lister. I saw you leap off the cliff.”

“Yeah,” Lister agreed, “But I didn’t mean to. I forgot the gravity was a bit lower on that planet. Once you’ve jumped, you just kinda… keep going. I saw you slip, and I was trying to save you.” He shrugged, and instantly regretted it, winced in pain, and regretted that too. “I did save you,” he added. If I hadn’t grabbed your shoulder as I went past, you’d have fallen instead.”

Rimmer frowned. “Nonsense. I didn’t slip. Not until you grabbed hold of me as you went flying past behind me. If I hadn’t shrugged you off, you’d have taken me over the edge with you.”

“You tripped, Rimmer,” Lister told him. He had seen it, he had seen Rimmer trip and stumble toward the cliff edge, and he had stopped him from falling.

When Rimmer didn’t answer immediately. Lister cracked open one eye to see him frowning as he considered what Lister was telling him. After a moment, he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re making it up to save face. Even if I had tripped, and I’m not saying I did, but even if I had, it’s not like it would have injured me, is it? I would have been fine. You, on the other hand, will be in a cast for months. So why would you have taken a risk like that?”

Lister sighed. “I didn't have that much time to think about it, you know,” he said. “I didn’t have chance to weigh up the pros and cons. I saw someone trip, I tried to stop them going over the edge of a cliff. The fact that it was you didn’t really register til after I hit the ground.”

“Well, more fool you then,” Rimmer told him. “Don’t think I’m going to feel like I owe you for this. Don’t think I’m going to go around passing you things so you don’t need to hobble across the room. Don’t think I’m going to let you keep the bottom bunk for any longer than is strictly necessary. Don’t think…” “I get it, Rimmer,” Lister told him.

Of course, if Rimmer had fallen, he probably wouldn’t have been able to switch himself to soft light before he hit the floor, so the impact would have been painful, and honestly, Lister thought it might be worth a broken leg and a concussion not to have to hear him whine about the fact that nobody stopped him falling.

He supposed he was lucky he only broke one leg. It could have been a lot worse, but he knew from experience that hobbling around the ship on crutches was going to be inconvenient and uncomfortable.

“I just want to make it clear that I do not owe you for your act of stupidity,” Rimmer said.

Lister closed his eyes again. “Fine.”

“In fact, given the concession I’ve already made to you by giving up my bunk, there’s actually an argument to be made that you owe me.”

Rimmer logic. Lister supposed he should be used to it by now, but the pain in his head was making it difficult to follow.

“But I tell you what,” Rimmer told him. “I’ll call it even on one condition.”

“Can you smeg off, Rimmer?”

“In a minute,” Rimmer promised him. “We’re even on the condition that I get to sign your cast.”

Lister frowned, eyes still closed. “Seriously?”

“Yes seriously. The last time you broke a limb I didn’t get to do it because I was soft light. Now, I can. You know, when I was at school, if ever any any of the other kids broke an arm or a leg, all the others would write messages and draw pictures on the cast, and it looked like so much fun. They never let me do it. And what’s worse is I always figured if I ever broke my own arm or leg, at least I’d get to do it then, but I never did. Not one broken limb my entire school career. It was so incredibly unfair.”

The painkillers were starting to wear off, and his leg was beginning to throb harder. “You’re upset you never broke a leg?”

“Or an arm. Of course, knowing my luck, if I had broken an arm, it would have been my dominant one and I wouldn’t have been able to write anything legible anyway. So, what do you say? Can I do it?”

Lister sighed. He couldn’t help thinking this whole conversation had been some elaborate set-up to get him to agree to Rimmer writing something on his cast. Something he would probably have agreed to anyway, without the coercion. “Fine,” he said.

Rimmer grinned widely. “Excellent,” he said. “Okay, sleep tight, Listy. I’m going to go and get a pen.”

As Lister closed his eyes, a thought occurred. Rimmer was far too gleeful about this, and he hadn’t once mentioned what he might be planning on writing, or drawing.

As he drifted off to sleep, Lister’s final thought was that he might have made a terrible mistake...

#red dwarf #red dwarf fanfic #my fic #arnold rimmer #dave lister

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