#where it feels like we've already wasted everything and not only are we failures now but we will always BE failures until we die | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluiex · 1 year

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More Built up Heart au, this time with some silliness mixed with a dash of lore :D

~~~~

"What would happen if I moved this little line of code over here and…Well, the immediate answer is I get yet another error."

Grian sighs tiredly, scooting his chair away from his desk in frustration. He's been at this for hours now, and the only progress he has made so far is figuring out what doesn't work with Scar's code instead of what does…

Just how broken of a bot was he sent?

"Well, judging by that sigh I heard, your little fix you just tried didn't work."

He sighs again at the voice coming through his computer speakers. "I feel like I'm in over my head here, Mumbo…Everything I've tried to make this code make more sense has been denied by whatever this mysterious previous programmer has done."

Mumbo, a fellow programmer and Grian's life-long friend, moves off screen of their video call and returns shortly with a pad of paper and a pencil in hand. The sound of pencil scratching on paper grinds on his eardrums, a sound he is going to associate with failure for a long time after the call is over.

This must be the bad luck he was waiting for to balance out the good he had in the meeting after the showcase. This is how the world is balancing the scales of good and bad, by throwing him problem after problem as he tries to work through the code spaghetti that makes up Scar's systems.

"There any good news about everything we tried failing that you can think of, Mumbo?"

"Well…This is going to be more of a stimulating challenge for you than previously thought."

He lets out a frustrated noise, letting his head fall forward and hit his desk with a loud thunk.

"Sorry mate," Mumbo's concerned voice says. "I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but I remembered how you said you were worried about being put on a boring project when you got back and well…This is far from boring."

"Don’t you use my words back at me…" He grumbles against the desk.

"Okay, well, do you have any other ideas on how to make this work better for you?"

"I think we've already crossed off all the things I thought could fix this…"

"Then we're running low on possible fixes, Gri…" Mumbo repeatedly taps their pencil on whatever surface they have their computer on. "You sure you don't want to delete everything and start from scratch? I'm sure if you explained how nothing you tried to input worked with how the original code was set up, the rest of the team would understand."

"As tempting as that option is, I don’t really have the time to try and create an entirely new system of code from scratch here. I was lucky enough that the one investor with the most sway in this was able to look at this from a humorous perspective and give me a whole month to work on this."

Mumbo takes a turn in the sighing. "I forgot about that…But it really does seem to be the best and most obvious choice, in my eyes at least. Alright then, this might be a long shot here but…It might be your only option. Give me your bots model number."

He lifts his head up, looking at Mumbo's serious face with great confusion.

"...What? Mumbo, what does the model number have to do with-"

"I'm going to take a look in the 'Chip Graveyard' and see if I can find anything that could potentially get you on the same track as the other people you're working with. Maybe what we're doing wrong here is that we're using new techniques instead of trying to use old ones."

The 'Chip Graveyard' is a tower of drawers that is filled with all sorts of computer and android chips from any and all past projects. It's where the unwanted, unneeded, or 'project got canceled and I don’t see myself using this in the future' chips go to be forgotten about. One would think that in the world of mass efficiency, there would be some sort of process to wipe these chips clean so the company wouldn't have to waste so much money and resources on all new chips for its many projects, but…

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" He asks, trying his best to follow Mumbo's thinking process. "Aren't most of those chips really old and buggy? Would one of those even work with Scar's code?"

"Possibly and possibly not, but with your small amount of time and pretty much having to build this bots personality, you don't really have much of a choice."

He sighs yet again. They are right, using an existing chip that could be at least halfway compatible with Scar's code would save him a bunch of time, but it could also ruin all of it and render Scar completely broken…Is he really willing to risk it for some amount of time saved?

Turning his head and looking at Scar's limp form sitting on the floor next to his desk, he carefully observes the bot he has been entrusted with.

They're slumped forward, head tilted down and their hands touching the floor. If you were to take just a quick glance at them, you might think they were just someone taking a rather uncomfortable nap. If you didn't see the wire coming from the back of their neck and connecting them to his computer tower first. But even still, they look rather at peace, like they fully trust he's going to do what he said and not ruin them…

He really hopes he doesn't end up doing such a thing.

"If this ends up breaking them, you're the one who is going to pay what it costs to fix or replace them. I'm not going to be out that much money because of your idea."

Mumbo huffs. "I'm not going to intentionally break your big and expensive toy, Gri. Who do you take me for? I'm not Etho."

"They aren't my toy, they are a beta test of how the team's 'companion' program works. And even if they did belong to me, I still wouldn't let you do such a potentially dangerous thing if it meant being out what they're worth."

"Yeah yeah…"

"Alright then," He says, moving his fingers to his keyboard. "I'm going to put that code back and unplug them from my computer. I think we've been at this long enough…If I don't get you their model number before you go to bed, bug me during your morning routine before you head in tomorrow."

"You say that, but we both know I get ready much earlier than you do and you hate getting disturbed at any time in the morning."

He sticks out his tongue at them before leaning over and unplugging the cord from Scar, carefully moving the android's head onto his lap. And as their cheek presses against his thigh, his fingers are combing through their hair before he even realizes what he's doing.

Did I just…subconsciously pet their head?

No, there's no way he just petted their head. He was just…Fixing their hair. Preemptively fixing their hair. Yeah, he's gonna go with that.

"Okay," He says quickly, wanting to move on from what he did. "If I haven't royally messed up, they should re-boot up in a few."

"If you put everything back like you said you did, then they should be pretty much the same as when you plugged them in. Unless even touching their code is enough to make them break."

"Oh gosh…Don't give the universe any ideas now."

Scar makes a noise, moving a hand up and gently grabbing at his leg before opening their eyes. They keep their head in his lap, looking up at him with a familiar blank face.

"Hello Scar," He says softly. "Welcome back. You feeling alright?"

"Hi…" They move their head away. "All of my systems are working properly as far as I can tell. Have you completed everything you wanted to do?"

"Well…We ran into a bit of a problem, but my friend Mumbo here has offered a solution that may work."

He gestures to his computer, but Scar doesn't move their head in its direction.

Instead, they carefully move themselves into a standing position, keeping themselves out of his way in his view of the computer's screen. Hmm…Now that he really thinks about it, he doesn't remember them ever disturbing him while he was typing away at his computer or looking at his company-provided tablet. Do they see him using those electronics as him doing something important? Did their last programmer put that in their code as a way to not be distracted while working?

He turns towards them in his chair. "Do you want to say hi to Mumbo? They're right here on the video call. I'm sure they would love to talk to you."

"...Is this a test of how well I follow commands that don't come from you?"

"No, Mumbo's not going to be telling you to do anything." He stands up from his chair. "You don't have to worry about anything anyone else tells you to do while you're in this apartment. You only have to do what I say unless stated otherwise."

"Okay."

"Come on then, take a seat in the chair so Mumbo can see you. There's no need to be shy now."

Scar blankly stares at him for a few seconds longer before slowly walking forward. He starts to move to the other side of the chair, trying to get out of their way, but gets pulled into something that feels both soft and hard. What the…

"Scar, what are you-"

"We can both sit in the chair if we sit like this."

Mumbo's loud laughter comes through the speakers as he processes what Scar has just done…And where his face is pressed.

Life is just set out to make him feel weird today…

"Scar, though I can understand your thought process…" He says slowly, really trying to have them focus on his words. "Please don't pull me onto your lap without a warning. Or press my face into your chest."

"...But this prevents you from having to stand, and you were sitting in the chair first. Isn't sitting like this more fair?"

"I was perfectly fine with standing Scar…"

"Your android just wants to cuddle a bit, Gri," Mumbo jokes. "Are you really going to break his little mechanical heart by saying he can hold you like that?"

"You stay out of this! I will end this video call right now!"

"What, so you can smooch your bot freely without an audience? You'll probably do that when this call ends anyways."

"That's not funny!"

"Well, I don't want to disturb you two any longer, so I'll just end this call on my end. Remember to get me that model number before work tomorrow!"

"Mumbo, don't you dare-"

His fury grows as Mumbo's form gets replaced with a black screen, signaling the call has ended.

"...I do not understand what just happened," Scar says, voice laced with confusion.

He lets out a long frustrated noise. Is there anything else the universe wants to throw at him, or is it done with the 'make Grian's day awkward' train it has going!?

~~~~

-Built up Heart Anon, telling you all not to miss what happens to Scar with Grian trying to save himself some time. It's going to be...interesting :)

AMAZING AAAH you should put this on ao3 🥺 it's so sososo good, and even more ppl shld see it!! And I'm just laughing Scar pulling Gri into their lap in front of Mumbo lmao poor Gri all he wants to do is fix Scar but he keeps doing these things

Super hyped for what's next!!

#bluie gets an ask poggers #long post #scarian #scarian ficlet #scarian fanfiction #scarian dbh au #scarian built up heart au

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lsholland · 3 years

Text

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 (𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 - "𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠?"

Word count: 3.7k

tw: addictions (alcohol, drugs), swearing, disease, murder...

genre: psychological thriller / suspense / drama

Synopsis: Tom Holland is Hollywood's #1 celebrity and is adored all around the world. But this rise to fame hasn't been easy for him. With fame comes his own demons: addiction issues, a relationship that's about to end and...he doesn't know it yet, but he's about to kill an innocent woman. How is he going to get through it?

You can also read it on Wattpad.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated :)

"Tom! Tom!!! TOM!!!" shouts a woman in a black hoodie among a hysterical crowd of young boys and girls trying to get this man's attention. "PLEASE!!! I love you so much" her voice crackles, she's sobbing in despair.

He stops walking and stands right in front of her, a sharpie pen between his fingers and an unnatural grin on his face. Even though these people claim they love him, he's tired of them. It's something with the drama, the screams, and the perpetual inconsideration that drains his energy. His straight face says it all, if only they weren't obsessed with his looks, he'd be pleased to spend time with them. But he knows he's just an object of their fantasies. He forces a smile, or something close to it, and accepts to take a picture with her. He stands next to her, his arms in his back, his fingers intertwined and shakily holding the pen, glancing at the camera lens, lost in his thoughts. His body is present in the moment, but his mind is thousands of kilometres away in the universe that is his brain.

And she's so happy to finally have that precious picture that her smile shows all her impeccable teeth; she's sweating and rapidly breathing and laughing with the same high-pitched voice as everyone else; she's just a typical fangirl. All her friends gather around her and whisper as if they were hiding a secret from an alien.

And onto the next one. Same hysteria, same cry for help, miserable for his attention. She hands him a picture of him in a Spider-Man suit and asks for an autograph while she's filming the scene with her brand-new iPhone.

It has to do with the way they treat him. The way they pretend he doesn't notice their weird behaviour. The way they simply believe he's not a human being. That he must be good-looking, happy, nice, and funny all the time.

"We've gotta go" says his assistant as he presses his shoulder with his hand. Tom looks at him with relief and closes his eyes for a second. He lets out a sigh as a soft smile appears on his angelic face.

"A'ight, I'm sorry guys" he apologises, but that's not enough. Many of them start crying and push through the thin barrier to get a hold of him; like monsters that haven't been fed, like addicts when you can't provide their usual dose of drugs. They look so disappointed and hopeless; leaving now would reduce all his efforts to dust. Keeping a good image and reputation is the key. He doesn't want to be hated.

Guilt rushes through him like a thrill; he glances at his watch and gulps. He gives them another 5 minutes for pictures, autographs, and hugs. Even if he's late. Even if he's going to miss his interview. Because he owes his success to them; or at least he thinks he does.

And when he goes into the back seat of this huge black SUV with no registration plate, he slams the door shut and . . . Peace. Finally, the moment he's been waiting for. The pressure leaves his body like a bubble burst. He sighs and relaxes his muscles, his head falling back on the seat. His eyes are closed; he doesn't say a word for the whole ride. His time alone is so rare and valued.

And when they arrive in front of that gigantic building to pass this final interview, Tom prepares to show his usual bright smile and pretends he's happy. Nobody notices what's hidden in his gaze. But his eyes are telling the truth. His eyes show how hopeless he is. But nobody dares looking into his soul. They only see the superficial layer, the mask he puts on every day. Because nobody knows who he is. Nobody cares about him.

It's so much simpler to ignore sadness in other people. We just tend to believe only good moments are worth sharing. We just pretend we're happy all the time because that's what everyone else does. And why would he show his sadness anyway? He has it all: a girlfriend, loads of money, a caring family, success . . . What can he be sad about?

The interview is done, Tom is in the car, cruising in the city. He's finally going home after a long, tiring, and stressful day.

He unlocks his phone and checks his text messages. They're plain and all related to his fame or his work. All his conversations are so self-centred. What are his plans? What does he like? And what's his opinion on this subject? He, he, him, him, again and again!

He's so tired and wants to be entertained. This empty space laying in his heart and brain becomes bigger and bigger. It's become harder to ignore it, especially when he's alone like tonight. Besides, he's too used to entertain others that he almost forgets what it's like to be passive and watch people do things. As if the world revolved around him.

Here we go. Instagram. The most toxic of all social media platforms. He scrolls through pictures of his friends. The famous ones on red carpets or photoshoots; the anonymous ones a drink in their hands. They're all so superficial. All the same. And the algorithm showing him pictures fans have taken of him earlier today . . . Icing on the cake. Why would he watch this? He doesn't need it. But he decides to read what the fans say, because he's curious. Or because he's obsessed with what people think of him. He needs to be known, loved, remembered, at the centre of attention – adored. He wouldn't need to sell his soul to the devil because it's already in him, and he's now paying the price of this sin.

The fans he met earlier, who were so happy to finally see their idol, were bullying him on social media. They aren't even aware of it. All these people objectifying him, posting pictures of his family – invading his privacy – and saying he can't 'write' or 'walk' or do anything properly because he's just human. They say they are joking except it's not funny. Tom's feelings are hurt, again. He should have written 'you're' instead of 'your', he should have noticed there was a hole in the grass and not trip . . . These images are roaming in his brain like a car's spinning wheels when you brake at 60 miles per hour; the pressure of the tyres scratching your mind, and the intrusive thoughts that can't be stopped like the wheel. Ever. And you eventually hit the wall.

He glances at the rear-view mirror and see his driver focused on the traffic lights. He glances around to make sure no paparazzi is watching and takes a flask out of his back pocket. His trembling hands poorly hold it, but he needs to drink something to feel better; to feel energised. He spills his boose on the leather seats and sighs with annoyance. Grabbing his hoodie feels like lifting the weight of the world; he manages to wipe it off and savours the sweet taste of vodka. Just one sip can't hurt.

That's how you know it's too late.

"Do you really need it?" says the assistant in the front passenger seat who caught him.

"It's just a drink" Tom replies instantly, frowning his eyebrows.

"I'm just worried about you, you know" he adds as he turns around and looks at him in his eyes.

"There's nothing to worry about," Tom mumbles as he feels relaxed "I can stop if I want to."

"If you say so . . ."

And even the people surrounding him day and night aren't trying to help him. Everyone's aware he's slowly getting addicted and is wasting his potential, everyone but the fans. Everyone pretends to love him, but nobody truly cares. They're just after his money, power, and fame . . .

It's like watching him tiptoeing on the deck's edge of a ferry and being shocked when he eventually falls off in the unforgiving cold, dark sea.

He smiles when the car stops in front of his London house. That's the only place where he feels like he can truly be himself. Or the last of it. After all, who is he really? Spider-Man? An actor that pleases 13-year-old girls? A failure? An impostor? Or no one at all?

What happened to the young boy who was excited about everything and anything? What happened to the one who used to laugh more than he'd breathe?

He is torn. He can't love anymore. He's had many girlfriends, each one more famous and beautiful than the last, but they couldn't bring him back to life. He truly loved them though. He felt good with them and always thought they were a match until he messed up. Making up a behaviour so they'd leave him because he's not strong enough to quit. Because he is just like this. A kid who can't handle success.

He currently has a girlfriend. Everyone loves her. He thinks she's too good for him though. Too beautiful, too clever, and maybe too famous. He feels like she's achieving much more than he is and that scares him. He can't even make love to her without feeling like he's not worth it. So, he ignores her calls, takes days to reply to a text, becomes cold as stone, distant, and unstable. This is how cowards break up. But she holds on to him.

Once he gets home, he sits on his couch and starts watching TV. His stomach is empty; he hasn't eaten all day but the only thing he wants is to drink more. It's like a voice in his brain that takes control of his body. He sees everything but can't do anything about it. The smell, the thirst, the mind that can't think of anything else. His hands are shaking, breathing becomes uneasy, he's uncomfortable in his own skin; he's a stranger to himself until he drinks. He's desperately waiting for someone to help him. But they're all too busy with their own problems.

He tries to drink from his flask, but it is empty.

He groans. "One more isn't gonna hurt" he whispers to himself as he walks towards the kitchen area. He opens the fridge and grabs a cold one.

And another one.

And another one . . .

The saddest thing about the situation is that he truly believes in his excuses. He doesn't realise he desperately needs help.

Now, the fridge is empty. But he still doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel the uninhibited state he wants to reach. He's still a victim of his thoughts; the sadness, the anger, the feeling of being trapped in a never-ending game.

He glances at his 80,000 dollars Rolex and decides it's time for him to go to a bar. He grabs his phone and calls his assistant. No answer. He calls his second assistant then. No answer.

"It's only 2AM, come on!" he grunts.

Only?

He thinks for barely a second and grabs his keys and gets into his car. There's a night bar in Kingston that he absolutely loves, and he knows he's always welcome there.

As a celebrity he's obviously welcome everywhere. But he noticed the way people looked at him with pity when he spent an entire night drinking without speaking to anyone. Alone in his thoughts that only he knows. It's different there, the barmaid usually talks to him and entertains him. And she just doesn't care he's famous, which is rare nowadays.

He's been caught drunk driving many times, but he was always released without a word because he's so famous. As if all the police officers have daughters who worship him.

Maybe his problem is thinking he's above all. He who used to be so humble, kind, and generous.

He parks in front of the venue, but the lights are off. He rolls down the window and squints to read the paper sticked to the door.

The bar is closed for annual leave.

"Fuck it!" he shouts. He checks on his phone if another bar is open tonight. Miss Jackson is. It's not the bar he usually spends his time in, but the beers are good and it's not too crowded for him. He absolutely wants to avoid fans tonight.

Most of them are underage, it's dangerous for him. One mistake and he'd become a paedophile. That's why he swore to himself to never do anything with a fan, no matter how hot they are. It's harder to respect this rule when he's drunk though.

"Let's go then" he says in a lazy way, the alcohol slowly taking control of him.

His eyes are red, everything he sees is blurred. He can't keep his thoughts straight.

He starts the car and puts some music to lighten his mood. He needs this to feel better. If something bad happens while he's drunk it ruins his mood. And when this happens . . . he starts having very dark thoughts. The kind of thoughts you better keep to yourself if you don't want people to be scared for you. Where your life is on the line, and you don't care about tomorrow because you just want to stop it . . . The sadness; the anxiety; the constant fears. Because the only moment you feel happy is when you sleep, as if you were dead. Tom feels like this all the time, and he hides it well.

But now he's focusing on the moment. The boose allows him to feel better. He listens to this pop song and its energy is spreading in his body. He's pushed by the music; the excitement and adrenaline take control over his body. He's ready to go.

He quickly backs up the car. He's so excited to go to the bar to finally drink some more and—

BOOM! His car abruptly stops, it sounds like a crash. An alarm is wailing, echoing in Tom's ears, making him feel dizzy. The shock was so intense he hit his face against the airbag of his steering wheel leaving his skin half-burnt. He passes out.

Tom startles as he wakes up, "what the fuck just happened?" he hisses. He stays still giving time to his brain to proceed the information and checks his rear-view camera. It's been disconnected.

He jumps out of his car and checks what happened. He collided with another vehicle. A much smaller car with a crushed bumper. Tom's car is damaged as well, but he doesn't care, he walks over the small Fiat 500 and scans the surroundings. His heart is pounding; air isn't traveling down to his lungs. He suffocates as if he were trapped in a cage down the ocean. He doesn't control his shaking fingers rubbing against his sweating forehead. His lips are parting, gasping for air, while his eyes are wide open looking straight to the ground.

For a second, he realises that he can be in big trouble if anyone knows about this. This can be enough to be fired by the Marvel Studios and ruin his entire career, his life. No one wants a drunk superstar to ruin a movie's reputation.

He hesitates. He wants to run away. He faintly grabs his head in his weak hands and is heavily panting. He can taste iron on the tip of his tongue. He rubs his forearm against his mouth and feels wobbly at the sight of his own blood.

What is he going to do? Has someone seen what happened? And if he leaves, what happens to the unconscious person in the car? But if he helps them, what guarantees him he's not going to be prosecuted? And lose it all? But what if he leaves and this person dies? What if they die and someone knows he killed them? Each scenario is getting worse and worse.

There's only one viable option for him.

"Hey, are you alright?" he says as he approaches the fuming car.

He glances around, but the street is empty. That's the reason why he usually loves this place; because it's so quiet.

"Are—Are you okay there?" he stutters.

He opens the door and see blood. Dark, thick, red blood. An unconscious woman with blood all over her face is lying on the steering wheel. Her car is so old there is no airbag. The shock must've been tough for her. She might even have a brain injury.

Tom places his hand on this woman's neck to check if her heart is still beating. It's weak. She needs help or she'll die because of his stupidity, because he's a drunk who can't even check his surroundings before backing up his car. Poor woman whose life is on pause for his mistake. She'll die because of him.

He dials 999 on his cell phone and repeats what he's going to say once someone picks up the phone.

"There's a woman—she's injured! Car accident!" he cries. He doesn't even try to make sentences; he just wants this to be over. "Please come quickly"

"What's your name, sir?"

His body is wavering, tears are streaming down his face – it's absolute chaos in his mind. He can't tell his name; he'd rather die than publicly suffer from the consequences of his actions. He needs to fly away; he needs to escape from this nightmare. He needs to leave, and now.

He hangs up in a hurry. No one can know he is drunk, and he almost killed someone. He walks back to his SUV and catches one last glimpse of this woman's body before closing the door and driving away.

As soon as he leaves, he regrets his decision, but sticks to it anyway. His soul is crying for him to go back there and help this dying life, but his cowardice tells him to hide and wait until this is over. He's reaching his lowest point, and the only person he wants to see now is his mum. When she holds him in her arms, the weight of his problems is bearable; he can even feel relaxed. And he wishes she'd be able to do it tonight. But it would kill her to know what monstrosity her son just did . . .

He's home, all alone. It's been a few hours since the incident happened, and Tom can't think of anything else. This woman's face, her blood all over the windshield, her crushed car.

Why didn't she see him? Why was she driving so fast in an empty street at night? So many questions roam in Tom's brain, it's slowly eating him alive.

He's sobering up as the morning lights glow on his face. It's already 6AM and he hasn't slept at all. He watches himself in his bathroom mirror and only see dark circles, pale skin, and the features of a monster. The broken blood vessels in the white of his eyes give him an evil aspect. He raises his arm and see the pink burnt skin, another scar for life. How on earth could he leave a dying woman?

He doesn't only feel remorse; he doesn't recognise himself. He's lost and wonders what happened in his life to be so miserable he considers his career more important than someone else's life.

He firmly rubs his face with the palms of his hands and takes off his clothes in a simple sweep. He crawls onto his bed and covers his body with a weighted blanket. He's almost trying to forget he exists when he squeezes his eyes shut and stops breathing until his lungs pressure him to open his mouth. Nature has done a wonderful job preventing us from suffocating on purpose. What a bummer for Tom; he would be dead already if he could just stop breathing . . .

He takes his phone, his only friend and his worst enemy, and checks the local news. Maybe they've mentioned the accident and he'll be able to know what happened to his woman. Not many articles have been published since last night. He keeps scrolling until he finds what he's been looking for.

25-year-old in coma after accident in Southeast London, fugitive remains unfound

Tom's heart skips a beat; this article must be about her. For a second, he apprehends and hesitates to read the article. But his guilty mind needs to know everything about what happened since he deserted.

As he reads the article, he gently places his hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out loud. The woman was so heavily injured they needed to put her under artificial coma to keep her alive. She was on her way to meet her dying husband, in the same hospital she's at now.

Such an emotional shock inflicts a profound pain to Tom's heart. He sobs in silence and passes out due to sleep deprivation. He's finally at peace; no thought, no nightmare. His mind is off, and his body is fully regenerating. His brain is solely focused on keeping his body alive. His soul is resting for a few hours until his cell phone starts ringing.

Tom wakes up with a start and answers his phone without checking who's on the line.

"Tom, what are you doing? I've been knocking at your door for the past 10 minutes," shouts his brother "what happened to your car? Dude what are you doing? You've gotta get ready for GQ!"

"Wh—What?" he mumbles.

His brother knocks at the door. Tom gets off his bed and walks down the stairs with difficulty. When he opens the door, the lights blind him, it's too sunny outside. He'd rather stay inside for a few more hours.

His brother checks him out and sighs. "Have you been drinking? The photoshoot is in less than an hour and you look like shit"

Tom remains silent, trying to process the information.

"And what happened to your car, man?"

And here it is. Every memory comes back in his mind like fireworks and his feet are failing, he can barely stand still. He grabs his brother by his shoulder and holds him tight in his arms. He's the only one who can really help him feel better. He wants to tell him everything that happened, but he can't admit he's got a problem.

He's lost.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading! What do you think so far of the story? Tom is in a very bad situation, I wonder how he's going to get through it?

Please like this post to be in the taglist.

#tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland fiction #tom holland imagines

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

Conversation

RP Meme from "A Bug's Life"

Where's the line?!

Do not panic. Do not panic! We are trained professionals. Now, stay calm.

We'll be stuck here forever!

I don't think we can do that.

That's it, that's it. Good. You're doing great. There you go!

Watch my eyes! Don't look away.

Just be confident, dear.

That's our lot in life. It's not a lot, but it's our life.

What did I tell you about trying to fly?

It's not my fault she's so stressed out.

I'm always acting like the sky is falling.

You could have killed somebody over here.

Please forgive me. I'm sorry!

My invention will speed up production.

Oh, another invention?

Aren't you looking lovely this morning!

I'm sorry, I was really just trying--trying to help.

I can make another one.

I'm beginning to think nothing I do works.

Great. One success.

I'm never gonna make a difference.

Being little's not such a bad thing.

Everything that made that giant tree is already contained inside this tiny little seed. All it needs is some time, a little bit of sunshine and rain, and voila!

You've gotta work with me, all right?

You might not feel like you can do much now, but that's just because, well, you're not a tree yet. You just have to give yourself some time. You're still a seed.

DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW A ROCK WHEN I SEE A ROCK?!

You're weird, but I like you.

C'mon! Keep moving! Keep moving!

It was an accident?

Where's the food?

Are you sure it's not up there?

Are you saying I'm stupid?

Do I look stupid to you?

Oh, I see! Under new management. So it's your fault.

First rule of leadership; Everything is your fault.

I swear, if I hadn't promised Mother on her deathbed that I wouldn't kill you, I would kill you!

Shut up! I don't want to hear another word out of you while we're on this island. Do you understand me?

Well, how can I answer? You said I couldn't say another word.

Listen, if you don't keep your end of the bargain, then I can't guarantee your safety.

Someone could get hurt.

You want her? Go ahead. Take her.

Let's ride!

I'm sorry for the way I am. I didn't mean for things to go so wrong.

I was just trying to help.

Then help us-- don't help us.

Perfect? What's so perfect?

Why didn't I think of that? Oh! Because it's suicide!

Who would do a crazy thing like that?

Wait a minute. What did we just decide here?

I won't let you down, I promise, I promise, I promise.

I should help repair the damage before I go.

Get back, you horrible beast!

I have no fear!

I have been in outhouses that didn't stink that bad.

This is ridiculous. What a disappointment!

You! Come here! I want my money back!

I hate performing on an empty stomach!

What's the point of going out there? They'll only laugh at me.

You parasite.

I am a cute little bumblebee! Here I come!

Candy corn! Here, let me help you to finish it.

They are poo-poo heads!

The stage is the other way, dear.

I'm gonna pick the hairs out of your head one by one!

Take your best shot!

That's no way to speak to a lady.

I heard that, you twig.

I demand to know who said that!

How dare you! Ingrates!

I only got 24 hours to live and I ain't gonna waste it here. Come on.

Aah! I've just about had it with these losers! Flaming death!

Water! We need some water!

You're all fired.

Burn him again!

Don't look at the light!

I can't help it! It's so beautiful!

Oh, sorry! Oh. I'm really, really sorry. That was an-an-an ac-ac-accident.

I'll show ya who's tough!

Oh, will you shut up?

Someday I will be a beautiful butterfly, and then everything will be better.

Farewell, my friends.

Shoo, fly. Don't bother me.

Not so tough now, are you?

Get up and fight like a girl.

What part can I play?

Justice is my sword and truth shall be my quiver!

No, no! I want to watch this!

Thrust, parry, lunge!

Me thinketh it's not working!

Help! Help! Get me out!

You can explain the details on the way.

Whoa, you're vicious!

This is insane.

Quit shoving!

We need a miracle!

Run for your lives!

Once again, our reputation precedes us.

Oh, my ticker!

Bingo! We gotta sweeten the deal.

You should be proud of yourself.

Oh, aren't they adorable!

Okay, honey. You're up.

I'm making a speech.

Shouldn't I come too?

No, classified in the D.M.Z. Gotta go A.S.A.P. You know, strictly B.Y.O.B. Bye!

Are you kidding? Do you know what this is? This, my friends, is false advertising. How dare you!

Give me some time, I'll come up with a plan.

Just go tell them the truth!

The truth, you see, is bad.

I will be branded for life.

If you could squish me, that would be great, because, uh, when they find out, I'm as good as dead.

I really do think I should be part of this meeting.

You can't go! I'm desperate!

I gotcha! I gotcha! I gotcha, I gotcha!

Somebody do something!

I'm going to snap. I'm going to snap.

Suck it in, man!

That, my friends, is the sound of applause!

We voted you our honorary den mother!

You're too kind.

Don't tell 'em I said that.

Boy, that's all I'd need, another royal blunder like that.

I know what everyone really thinks.

Thanks, you're sweet. You're wrong, but sweet.

Nobody really believes I can do this job.

I haven't been that nice to you, and I'm sorry.

Aren't you sweet?

I outrank everyone here. Remember that.

Now you're gonna cry, right?

Please, don't cry. Please.

Keep up the good work.

I mean, why take the risk?

I didn't think it was such a good idea myself. It wasn't even my idea.

They talked fancy to me. I got confused!

Why go back?

Didn't that hurt?

Any sign of those fiends?

Okay, I've told everyone you'll be stationed deep in the command bunker.

Party quiets down, I sneak you out the back way and then you're outta here forever.

He's not fully trained. I mean, house-trained.

It seems we've been booked for an extended engagement.

They're back! Get ready, everybody! Get to your posts!

Battle stations, everyone. This is not a drill. Come on, everyone, you know your jobs! LET'S GO, GO, GO, GO!

You mean, you're not warriors?

You mean to tell me that our entire defensive strategy, was concocted by clowns?!

Tell me this isn't true.

This couldn't have happened at a more inopportune time.

You lied to me! And like an idiot, I believed you.

I just wanted to make a difference.

Tough crowd.

You think this is a game?

You don't want to make him mad. Believe me! No, no, no.

You're staying with me, Your Highness.

Quick! To the clubhouse!

Have you checked over there?

I love our job.

I'm gonna be rich, rich, rich I'm gonna be rich, rich, rich

I'm rich, rich, rich That's who I am

The circus life isn't so bad.

What are you talking about? It was your idea.

I just make things worse.

I've made a living out of being a failure.

You have rekindled the long-dormant embers of purpose in our lives.

They're rounding everyone up.

I promise to start thinking about paying you

Okay, I'll pay ya! I'll pay ya!

WAIT A MINUTE!

I think I'm going to wet myself!

I guess we could use a little entertainment.

On with the show!

The circus, the circus! I love the circus

That's the signal. That's the signal!

A magician never reveals his secrets.

You've got to make it work!

Don't let it get me! Don't let it get me!

Oh, my eye! Help me!

Oh, the pain!

There goes my magic act!

WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS?!

I'm the one you want!

Where do you get the gall to do this to me?

I hate it when someone gives away the ending.

A piece of dirt! No, I'm wrong. You're lower than dirt.

Ideas are very dangerous things.

So who's the weaker species?!

It's you who need us!

We're a lot stronger than you say we are! And you know it, don't you?

Oh, this was such a bad idea!

Quick! After them!

Go that way! I've got an idea!

Come on! We've gotta hide! No matter what happens, stay down!

All your little stunt did was buy them time!

I finally get a second to relax, and I gotta get out of my chair.

I'm not gonna cry. I'm not gonna cry.

Shutting up.

What's with the rock?

Now it's getting mushy.

Finally, I'm a beautiful butterfly!

You better start flying!

I am flying! And from way up here, you all look like little ants!

#rp memes #rp meme #rp starters #roleplay memes #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #a bug's life

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Bea & Buster

Bea: Why are you not here? Buster: I decided to stay Bea: And how is it that was something you reckoned you could just decide Bea: We've been over this, and you're only allowed to visit on the assurance you keep doing what you're meant to, when you're meant to Buster: I am doing what I'm meant to Buster: But cheers for the concern Bea: You're meant to be at School Bea: how many times are you going to make me repeat myself of this when it's not up for discussion Buster: There's no need to repeat yourself Buster: I've sorted things with school same as before Bea: You're so close to finishing you just need to get this done Bea: Do it right, there's no point phoning it in because you won't get into the Unis you want so if you're not gonna put the effort in now Bea: Don't bother at all Buster: I'm doing what I need to do, I've already told you Buster: I don't enjoy repeating myself either, like Bea: I fail to see how you have the time Bea: You're clearly distracted or you wouldn't be there Buster: There's a thing called multi-tasking, you should try it Bea: Do not talk to me like that Bea: This isn't negotiable Bea: Next flight home Buster: I know it's not Buster: I'm staying here Bea: You're not Bea: For God's sake, you know this is pathetic, don't you Buster: I know that's what you think Bea: It really is, you're not capable of going five minutes without seeing each other Buster: I'm not actually that fucking selfish it might surprise you to realise Buster: How are you this detached from everything that's going on here right now? Bea: Edie always goes missing Bea: Is it reasonable or practical for us to drop our lives every time she does? No Buster: Jesus Bea: What? Bea: It's not that I'm not sympathetic but how do you expect to help by being there Buster: You have no idea how much is on her shoulders, do you? Bea: Who's? Buster: Rio's Bea: I'm sure there is Bea: there is on everyone's but you've got your own to deal with Buster: No I don't Buster: Like I said, school is sorted Bea: How can I trust what you say Bea: I'll be seeing for myself how sorted it actually is Buster: I keep my word, I always have Buster: That should be enough Bea: No, you keep everything from us Bea: You don't say where you are, what you're doing Bea: and still you expect us to not only be fine with it but believe it too Buster: That isn't fair, I've kept things from you 'cause I've had to Buster: Same as I'm doing what I have to do now Bea: Just because we aren't going to agree with or say yes to every decision you make isn't reason to behave like this Bea: that's immature, how do you expect to be taken seriously? Buster: I'm not a child Buster: And this isn't about you Bea: No, you aren't Bea: Stop behaving like one Buster: Stop treating me like one Bea: How can I Bea: You're giving me no reason not to, and ample to see how we've given you too much freedom Buster: I know what I'm doing Buster: There's your reason Bea: You think you do but you aren't thinking bigger picture Buster: You raised me, you should know what I'm capable of Bea: Can you not just be normal and do what you're bloody told for once in your life Buster: Don't tell me I'm not normal Buster: And again, you raised me, so don't expect no challenge to your authority like Buster: You're lucky enough that Nance goes along with what you say Bea: Well Bea: I'm trying to get you to do what's right for you Buster: I am, mum Buster: Believe it or don't Bea: I don't Buster: Why? Buster: What more do you want from me? Bea: It isn't going to happen Buster: What? Bea: You aren't going to stop all this, are you Bea: So, do what you want, I wash my hands of you Buster: Come on Buster: It doesn't have to be like this Buster: You said you wanted me to be happy Bea: I do but it isn't as easy as that Bea: accepting this Buster: I don't see what's so difficult Bea: You wouldn't, you're not a parent Bea: You have an idea of what you want for your kids Bea: and obviously, this wasn't it Buster: What the fuck am I doing that's so wrong? Buster: I'm getting the best grades, I'll be able to get into any uni I want Buster: I'm in love, I'm happy Buster: What's the problem? Bea: It's too soon, you're too young Bea: Never mind the unavoidable fact she's your cousin Buster: It's not and I'm not Buster: But at least we've got to the real issue Bea: Yes it is, do you see anyone else getting engaged at your age Buster: We're not anyone else, we're us Bea: You can't know what you want for the rest of your life at this age, it's ridiculous Buster: Why can't I? You did Buster: Christ, what difference does it make if I get married now or in 10 years Bea: No I didn't Bea: just because it worked out that way doesn't mean I did Bea: at least you'll have lived some life Buster: We're gonna do it together Buster: That's what we want Bea: And you're fine paying for her, are you? Buster: I don't pay for her, she pays for herself Bea: It's not a sustainable career is it Buster: Not that it's any of your business but she's got career plans beyond this Bea: No, of course not Bea: it's never my business Bea: it's only my money you're wasting Buster: Are we really gonna do this? Buster: You're gonna tell me how to spend now Buster: What do you want a fucking spreadsheet of my expenses? Bea: Yeah Bea: That's actually reasonable Buster: Get Nancy's and then we'll talk Bea: Don't try and make this about your sister Bea: she's actually going to school Bea: and she has less reason to want to be there Buster: If we're doing this then it is about her too Buster: There's not one rule for me and another for my sister, like Bea: Fine Bea: It's irrelevant, we didn't raise either of you to be entitled brats Buster: Then stop treating me like I am Buster: I'm not a kid wasting my pocket money on sweets Bea: Just on countless flights, engagement rings you don't need Bea: I could go on Buster: I literally do need a ring to be engaged, it's kind of the point Bea: You don't need to be engaged Buster: I don't need to still be in school or go to uni either Buster: But I want to Bea: You do if you want to get anywhere in life Bea: so no, not the same thing but nice try Buster: Why can't you see that I need her too? Buster: She's as important to be Buster: More Bea: I'm not saying you can't be together Bea: do you have to do this Buster: Yes Bea: Why Bea: It makes no difference Buster: It does to me Buster: And you wouldn't say that to Nance if she still wasn't allowed to get gay married Bea: Don't make the comparison Bea: You aren't opressed, either of you Bea: Christ Buster: Nobody wants us to be together Buster: It's not that different Bea: I'm just asking you to not get married Bea: this very second Bea: I don't know why that's so much to ask, apparently Buster: 'Cause you only want that in the hopes that I'll change my mind Bea: And I'm not planning to fund an entire wedding for you Bea: Just cool it down, you said you would Buster: When have I ever said that? Bea: You aren't earning, and you're not going to be earning for years yet Buster: Jesus Buster: You didn't care when I was spending all my money on champagne and coke, did you? Buster: Don't make this about money when it clearly isn't Bea: Obviously, I didn't know because no Bea: I would not be happy about that either Buster: I've made so many mistakes and now that I'm finally doing what's right for me you wanna treat it like it's somehow the worst one Bea: How could it be right Bea: I just don't see it Buster: How can it be wrong to love someone who loves you as much Buster: To be happy and build a life that you actually want Bea: I don't know Bea: Just for God's sake Bea: give people more time Buster: I stayed away from her for years for the sake of everyone else Buster: Why should I? Bea: Because no one knew that Bea: I've not had years to process this Buster: It doesn't matter Buster: They can take all the time they want to get used to us being together Buster: They'll have forever if they need it Bea: Right Bea: Well if that's how it is, I have nothing to add Buster: Fine Buster: Good talk, mum Bea: What did you expect Buster: Honestly, nothing Buster: Exactly this Bea: Good, then I'm the only one that's disappointed Buster: Oh no, I'm very disappointed, just not surprised Bea: What would you like me to do Bea: Honestly Buster: At least trust me and accept this if you can't be happy for me Bea: It's your life now Bea: you'll do what you want with it Bea: regardless Buster: Yeah but I still want you in it Bea: Whatever for? Buster: 'Cause you're my mum Buster: For one thing Bea: Oh yeah? Bea: Only when it suits you Buster: Don't Bea: Why not Bea: it's the truth of the matter Buster: No it's not Bea: Well that's how it seems Buster: Do you actually think any of this is how I want things to be? Buster: Christ Bea: Then do something about it Buster: I can't tell you things 'cause you don't support me Bea: You want unconditional support then go somewhere else Bea: You're not getting it when you're wrong Buster: All I want is for you not to make me feel like a failure for no fucking reason Bea: We'll see when you get your results Buster: Are you gonna apologise then? Bea: No Buster: Then why would I bother showing them to you Bea: This conversation is ridiculous Buster: 'Cause you're being ridiculous Buster: You want me to focus on school on the one hand, but on the other you're gonna force me into getting a job 'cause money is apparently such an issue all of a sudden Bea: The issue is how you're spending it and your time Bea: Do you understand how hard law school is going to be? Bea: You aren't going to have time for all this Buster: I'm spending both how I need to Buster: You have no idea about law school, you haven't done it Buster: All you're doing is underestimating me Buster: To try and split us up Bea: I know how hard it is Bea: I don't need firsthand experience Buster: Well, I don't need you to tel me how hard it is, or is going to be Bea: You don't want to be told Bea: Anything Buster: I don't wanna hear your self serving bullshit, no Bea: That's rich Buster: It suits you to tell me how hard shit might be 'cause you don't wanna hear anything about how much easier she makes things for me Bea: Well I'm sure it's very nice not going to School, yeah Buster: Fuck this Bea: That's about right Buster: For good reason Bea: Goodbye, Buster Buster: Whatever Bea: Mature Bea: Well done Buster: Nothing I do now is gonna impress you Buster: Forget it Bea: I don't need to be impressed Buster: Act like it then Bea: Don't ever tell me what to do Buster: Why would I? I've wasted my breath enough for one conversation Bea: Try 18 years down the drain then you can talk to me about disappointment, kid Buster: Say how you really feel, mum Buster: Fucking hell Buster: You know what, don't bother any more Buster: Just stay out of my life and then you won't have to feel anything Bea: I've tried being nice with you, I've tried trusting you Bea: None of it has worked Buster: Don't give up your day job if that's what you reckon Bea: Oh yeah, I'm such a horrible mother Buster: You don't know how to trust me, that's what I'm saying Bea: Trust gets you nowhere Buster: Bullshit Buster: Nothing I do is ever gonna be good enough, that's the real issue here Buster: If I wasn't with Rio you'd find something else to pick a hole in Bea: That's not true Buster: Yeah it is Buster: You love it when I fuck up 'cause it proves you right Buster: That's why you're hoping this is another mistake Buster: Unlucky Bea: Why would I want that Bea: what exactly do I get out of being right? Buster: 'Cause you know I'll come running to you Buster: Just like I did with the Chlo thing Bea: Please Bea: I have enough to be getting on with in my own life Buster: Good thing I don't need you then, yeah? Bea: If only that were remotely true Buster: Don't worry, I'll make it happen for you Buster: Starting now, like Bea: Like you said, I don't trust you Buster: So don't Buster: It's still happening, just like me getting married is Buster: We're done here Bea: Good luck Buster: I don't want or need that from you Bea: Nonetheless Buster: Bye mum

0 notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

We've Got Tonite (Jivy/Shalaska/Trixya/Pearlet) Part 2 - Saiphl

A/N: Not so much to say, hope you enjoy the reading or re-reading, I’m very thankful from your support and the love showed to the first part of the story, so I hope you enjoy this second part as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Part Two: So Many Stories of where I’ve been, and how I got to where I am.

All the Drag Race family was gathered in the VIP area, having animated conversations, dancing, drinking and throwing some shade. All the previous Reigning Queens were called to a photoshoot with the new member of the royal family. While Chad was holding a slightly drunk Sharon to help her down the stairs of the section, Jinkx, Bebe and Raja were teasing Tyra. All of this, just before Bianca went straight to get them to have the stupid session finished so she could get back to Adore and Courtney. Both of which were waiting for her to start toasting for every single thing that came to their minds.

“And all of my friends who think that I’m blessed

They don’t know my head’s a mess…”

Surrounded by the music, the dark lights and the chit-chat of Detox and Roxxxy, there was someone that was following without failure the red-haired MILF from Seattle with her eyes. Ivy was so busy trying to keep an eye on Jinkx, that she didn’t notice when Detox asked for Keith. Actually, she just got back to earth when she heard Roxxxy teasing her about making herself so interesting as far as she knew for sure that Keith bought an engagement ring before going back to Michigan.

Ivy felt suddenly sick when Roxxxy asked for the ring that she saw Keith buying and looking for it on her finger. But even sicker when the awkward silence came after both of her fellow queens realized that she wasn’t wearing any jewel on her left hand. And how it had always been, Jinkx just appeared from nowhere with the most perfect timing, to virtually drag her to the bar for a drink.

“Honey, are you okay?” Jinkx asked, watching over Ivy’s pale face, who slightly nodded.

“I… I’m just a mess,” she responded. Jinkx then took her to the back door of the club. Even when the beautiful butterfly left her heartbroken a few weeks ago, she still was her friend, and she would never leave a friend in distress alone.

Once they were out, Jinkx simply hugged the sobbing Ivy, who by the time was actually shaking and barely able to keep herself on her feet.

“Baby you’re making me really worried. What happened? Those bitches were mean to you?” This time was Jerick talking to Dustin, not Jinkx comforting Ivy. “If they did something to you, I will put them in their place and…”

Ivy straightens her back to look at Jerick’s worried eyes. She gives a small pathetic laugh and shakes her head. It was endearing how worried Jerick was over her - it made her feel important.

“No darling, they didn’t do any harm. It’s just me who can’t keep my own shit together,” Dustin answers, with raspy shaken voice. She takes a few moments of silence to build up the courage to speak. “Roxxxy knew that Keith was proposing, she saw him buying the ring. Both she and Detox were looking for it on my hand.”

As a reflex, Jerick took Dustin’s hand on his, and felt paralyzed at finding the naked finger.

“Because even when I was flat broke

You made me feel like a million bucks…”

Sharon was shaky and not at all from the booze. No, for once it was from the dizziness that came with knowing that sooner or later she would find Alaska, and the both of them wouldn’t be able to say anything, because as it had always been that way between them. The longest wordless conversations, that silent understanding that led them to share the bedroom, to get tangled with each other. And to have those nasty fights that ended with the both of them wasted, high, angry, and in the end, separated and broken.

So no, Sharon didn’t want to find her, but she knew she would and it was sooner than she thought, ‘cause when they finished the photoshoot with Violet, she found herself alone in the way back. The AAA girls were giving an interview about the last campaign they were making and Sharon almost tripped down the steps when her eyes met Alaska’s face.

As it would always be, Alaska was all smiles and flattery. Like a mermaid, elusively moving around the place even when she wasn’t moving at all, the long nails were clacking over the glass of her untouched cranberry vodka. She looked most beautiful than ever, even for someone that had just a year dropped, and just like a fly Sharon started to pace around, looking at her, wondering if Alaska missed her as much as she has all this time. Just for a second, their eyes met, and Alaska lost her smile for a second - only to recover it when she embraced Willam and Courtney, allowing the reporter to make a couple of pictures of their smiling faces and finally let them go. Willam and Courtney easily found someone to entertain themselves with, and Alaska found herself in front of the bar, with the untouched vodka drink. Silently checking on Sharon’s approach from the corner of her eye. She felt her hands get sweaty, just like the first time they met.

Sharon smiles shyly - so out of character for her usual abrasive and upfront personality. After they broke up she always wanted to get closer to her, and whenever she tried to do it in a non-work-related way, it always ended messed up. So this time, pretending to be more drunk than she really was, she approached Alaska.

“Hey Gorgeous!” Sharon calls playfully, with a twisted smile on her darkened lips.

“Hi stranger,” Alaska replies in a raspy low voice. Both of them laugh and it’s more than they have done together in the last year.

“It’s been a while and I haven’t been back at Pittsburgh for some time, how you doin’?” asked the queen in green, quietly smiling at Sharon, who was authentically blushing from watching Alaska’s smile.

“I haven’t been at home lately either. The tour got me out from Pittsburgh more than six months, I miss being there already and…” Sharon doubted for a second, and the look on Alaska’s face was pure curiosity.

As if they were sharing a hive mind, they simultaneously said, “I’ve missed you.”

The awkwardness of that confession was broken as fast as it started, and it broke with one of crowd’s guest asking to have a picture with them. After a few words and some goodbye kisses, Alaska and Sharon were left alone, and found themselves walking through the people to find a quieter place to share a moment. They didn’t need a time together in some years, but that moment was just a breaking point, and when they finally reached a relatively calmed spot on the backstage, they looked into each other eyes.

“I…” Sharon started, clearly finding hard to put her thoughts together. Maybe she was as drunk as she had been acting. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised to keep being friends and count on each other, and that I broke my word so many times.”

She said all this with a mixture of shame, sorrow and rage towards herself, and finally put her head down. She couldn’t dare look Alaska in the eyes. “I promised to be with you whenever you need me, and I’ve failed so badly.”

Alaska trembles for a second, and then sighs. Her next words are spoken in a whisper. “I know. We promised so many things to each other, and we weren’t able to keep our words.”

“We just messed things up, with us, with the careers, with everything… now everything is going well but I still think that there’s something missing,” Alaska tilts Sharon’s chin up with one finger. “and I still think that the missing thing is you in my life. I don’t know if that’s right, but, it’s the way I feel.”

Sharon sighs deeply and puts her arms around Alaska’s waist.

“You see the smile that’s on my mouth

It’s hiding the words that don’t come out…”

Trixie was still on her skates, there was something on rolling over the floor that led her to a state of full mental peace… or maybe just gave her something to concentrate with instead of letting her head fly to those tricky territories again. Even more so when the performances of the other competitors were about to end and she needed a quick escape for whatever could put its face in front of her. Basically, she needed not to think and just keep moving, wherever the hell could it take her to.

For Katya it was different, she was ecstatic - watching everything from the most hidden corner she could reach. By this point she had survived a flight back from Boston to NYC, she had survived the fact of checking in to the hotel room, she survived the red carpet, all those damned interviews and the hideous photo sessions after that. But most of all, she managed to survive the urge to get a drink, or the other urge to have a cigarette and the worse of all of the urges: to have Trixie close and being unable to touch her the way she wanted to.

Suddenly, Katya felt so tired. Before she arrived to the party, she thought seriously on hooking up with some random guy at the place. That was so easy to get, many fans wanted to know for sure if Katya was the sassy hooker she claimed to be. But when it was about to happen, she just decided it was that easy, that she didn’t want it anymore. In fact, as far as she could remember, she had been dick deprived for a long while. She didn’t have a guy since that night, when she tricked Trixie for the simple taste of her lips, and for some reason it had been enough… at least for her, at least for the last couple of months, while they were complying with the multiple bookings to accomplish before the crowning.

Trixie was rolling all over the place, when some distracted one stepped down the stairs. Someone that was stuck within a bleached blond wig and a black sequin dress, and casually tripped on one of Trixie’s skates. The doll was about to apologize for being so distracted, when the voice of Katya caught her attention, pressing a brake on the floor and to keep her arm steady to help the other one to get back to her feet. All the people were too busy watching Ginger performing, so busy that no one even noticed when Katya looked straight to Trixie’s eyes. Or even when Trixie held Katya by the waist, so close that the tuck of the both of them had were in a serious risks of being broken, ‘cause unconsciously they grinded a bit on each other by the proximity.

“Take me out of here bitch,” Katya murmured in Trixie´s ear and she, being so eager to please, took Katya’s hand. Making a way for the both of them across the people on the place.

“I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules

But baby I broke them all for you…”

Pearl had just came down from the stage when they announced Violet’s performance. The people craved to see the reigning queen show her skilled ass on the stage, specially after the crowning and the show of all the other competitors of that season.

Violet came out showing all smiles and that vintage elegance that has been her trademark all along, and Pearl’s heart skipped a beat when she saw her climbing up the strings of fabric. The strength and the fluency of movement, the graceful way she was dancing in the air, tangled with the two long ribbons. When Violet fell down to her back looking to the crowd, their eyes met, and Pearl could feel her mouth going dry. Even more so when Violet’s lips formed the word “come” that made her cock ache with need.

Everything had been subtle between them. First a supportive smile from one to another, then a sympathetic hug when needed, even the time spent together out of the set, out of the world. That epic battle of wisdom with their benefactor that led them to share space, drinks, pot and finally a bed that allowed them to entangle with each other. Sharing lips, skin, caresses and endless passion, that started with just one kiss and became something bigger. Something that no one could sniff out, even Ginger’s expert eyes or Kennedy’s natural nosiness were able to notice.

That evening, when the three of them were waiting for the winner’s announcement, it was just a reflex when Violet put her hands on Pearl’s thigh, when Pearl circled Violet’s waist with her arm, and then, when they were embraced. A whisper that said “Congrats bae… I love you”, the instant smile that was put on Violet’s face, and the dreamy eyes that Pearl fixated on her while she was walking away to her crown… after that, they couldn’t find a second to share their joy. They actually hadn’t been able to meet each other in less than four hours, and when Pearl watched her performing, that little voice inside her head told her to get ready to say goodbye, ‘cause she would be left behind… again.

Pearl got her feet back to earth when she heard the crowd burst in applause, and the club’s staff was making Violet’s way back to the dress rooms safe, when she passed besides Pearl, she dared to take her hand and pull her a bit, inviting to follow that path. At that point of the night, Violet was ready to kill whoever who dared to interrupt her little break, specially when she heard Pearl’s heels clacking behind them on the hallway, a sigh of relief escaped Violet’s lips when she found herself alone in the dressing room, a few seconds later, Pearl managed to sneak there and the instant their eyes meet again, nothing stopped them from crashing into each other’s lips.

Hands in movement, entangled bodies and a rain of whispered I love yous filling the air.

“We shouldn’t…” Pearl whispered, finding herself unable to release Violet’s tiny waist from the tight grip of her own arm, while Violet answered biting her earlobe.

“I don’t care, I got the crown, this is over, and I want you… I need you now.” Those simple words made Pearl’s blood boil, tightening the grip on her lover even more. They’ve started rolling all over the place, touching, kissing, teasing each other. The magic was only broken when someone knocked the door, asking for Violet to be available in five.

“No they don’t know who I really am

And they don’t know what I’ve been through

Like you do, and I was made for you.”

#saiphl #pearlet #shalaska #trixya #jivy #fluff #pearl liaison #violet chachki #jinkx monsoon #ivy winters #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #romance #season 7 timeleine #rpdr fanfiction #we've got tonite #canon compliant

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