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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 3 months

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"Time & the Trickster" A Loki/Doctor Who crossover

Chapter 2: Window to the World

Having Loki in your apartment leaves you both confused and star-struck. But fangirl crushes will have to wait as you take it upon yourself to give Loki a history lesson about your reality and his role in it.

CHAPTER WARNING: none

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You were an early riser, and always had been. Even on mornings after you’d not slept well, you were usually able to greet the day with at least some energy. It was your superpower: you were the only morning person you knew. It was usually good for adding an extra hour or so of recreation to your day.

You needed that superpower more so today than ever. For once, when you woke up and remembered why you were splayed out like a deflating sex doll on the sofa, not a shred of dignity to be found in your position, you felt your head begin to pound.

Coffee…bring me to life…

You glimpsed at the Loki figurine on the kitchen island where you’d stashed it without thinking. Scrunching your nose, you went to the cupboard to start brewing a strong pot of Elixir of Life (French Vanilla light roast).

You weren’t sure what to think. If your new houseguest was truthful, that meant you presently had the God of Mischief in your bed. Hell, it meant that the God of Mischief, as well as Thor, Odin, and Asgard, existed. And what did that mean for everyone else in those movies? How did he even find himself here, and where was his intended path?

And, perhaps the biggest question of all: how was he supposed to get back to where he came from? Should he even be allowed to go? After all, it wasn’t like Loki from The Avengers was a good person. What if you had an intergalactic criminal in there? Lying not about his identity but about his benign existence?

Heh, I guess I had stranger days in college.

You heard shuffling at the front door. After a few moments of keys jangling, Joey came in, looking worse than when he’d left you hours ago.

“More fun at work, asshole?” you said with a sneer.

“Always,” he said, taking a seat on the other side of the island on a barstool. “Actually, I did a lot of cleaning shit out tonight.”

“Good. Serves you right for making me spend my last hundred bucks on Prince Loki in there,” you replied. “That was our grocery money, by the way. Hope you like the Crackers and Oxygen Diet.”

Joey laughed. “I was thinking about it…about him,” he said after a brief pause. “And I was wondering if you thought the same thing I did.”

“What about?”

“About The Doctor.”

The timer on the coffee pot beeped. You swiped two cheap mugs stolen from a hotel room and placed them in front of your brother.

You nodded. “I definitely thought about him.”

“Maybe it’s not such a weird coincidence that he looks like him, Sis,” Joey reasoned as you poured. “I mean, that kook in London sure looks like David Tennant.”

“It’s a publicity stunt, genius,” you said, bringing one of the full mugs to your nose so that you could inhale the gentle, earthy aroma. You were already beginning to feel more awake.

“Disney owns the Loki side of things, but not the Who side,” said Joey. “I doubt the BBC and MCU would do something like this at the same time.”

You smiled and took a slightly longer look at him. Despite his disheveled appearance, Joey really did look like your father to a T. “You and Dad watched all the old Doctor Who stuff. I just watched the Thor movies for the…”

You looked briefly at the toy on the counter.

“...plot.”

Joey took a long sip of coffee, rolling his eyes before setting the cup down to express his thoughts. “Sure you did, Sis. Hey…uh…didn’t you lose your virginity to the audiobook for High Rise?”

“SHUT UP!” you barked defensively, absentmindedly taking a sugar cube from a glass nearby and chucking it at his face. Your aim was wide (and half-assed), and instead of hitting your target, the cube flew across the room and landed at Loki’s bare foot.

You hadn’t noticed him open the door or leave the bedroom. “Oh,” you gasped.

“Hey, Loki! Good morning, soldier!” Joey raised his mug in toast.

Loki looked a little bewildered, but otherwise mentally intact. “Did I miss something?” He bent over and scooped the sugar cube, holding it between two of his fingers, observing it.

You shook your head. “No. Uh, coffee?”

“Um,” was all Loki said before Joey gestured to his own seat, getting up and offering it. Loki felt compelled to take it.

“Hey,” Joey said in an aside to you as Loki helped himself to a coffee mug, “We should tell him.”

“About how he’s a fictional character? I was going to.”

“About The Doctor,” Joey repeated. “I’m just saying, maybe it’s NOT so weird that two time-jumpers landed here after all.”

Shaking your head, you disagreed. “I want to show him the movies first,” you said, looking briefly over your shoulder. “If he is who he says he is, then he doesn’t know the truth. We can’t send him out into the world as a helpless little dingus. Someone could take advantage of him.”

Your brother sighed. “I guess. I’m gonna shower and get some sleep. Maybe when I wake up we can talk about what to do.”

You gritted your teeth and groaned. “He sounds like he wants to get back to where he came from as soon as possible.”

Laughing, Joey headed for the bathroom, barely large enough for him to turn around in. “I don’t think he has much choice.”

“No, that’s not what I’m worried about,” you added. “What if he gets desperate and, like, hurts one of us?”

He shrugged and said quickly as he closed the door, “Well, try not to bleed onto the rug. The landlord’ll add that to our rent.”

You rolled your eyes. Thanks, Joey.

You turned to go back to the kitchen island to help Loki with something to eat, but stopped in your tracks when you saw that he had found the figurine, and was holding it up in front of him as if it were covered in syrup.

“Y/N, what is this?”

Your jaw fell open as your heart began to race. You couldn’t explain the look on Loki’s face; it was as if he was wrestling in his mind between confusion and amusement.

“I…”

Loki was smiling as he held the trinket closer to his eyes, observing the details. “My my…” he mumbled. “Why does Midgard have toys of my likeness in this timeline? Am I a hero?”

His smile peeled further back on his cheeks as he had a realization.

“Do…do you admire me, Miss Y/N?”

Your skin went ice cold when he winked with a chuckle. Your mind was short-circuiting. This was a super fan’s anxiety nightmare come to life, and it was your show. You did the one thing you knew would work to get you out of it: change the subject.

“Loki,” you said solemnly, “There’s something I need to show you.”

You called in to work (the shop owner was a retired teacher with a sweet disposition, so she understood that you “had family in town”) and brought out Joey’s DVD cases. Between the two of you, you owned the DVDs of the entire Infinity Saga. Joey even burned a few bootleg copies of one of the streaming shows, but alas, it was Wandavision, not Loki’s show. You couldn’t afford any streaming services, and since password sharing/stealing was no longer possible, you only had these discs and basic cable as your entertainment in the evenings.

I wonder what’s in his serial, you thought. Has he lived it yet? Should I warn him about spoilers?

You laid out a spread of snacks, in case Loki got lightheaded or distressed over what he saw. Luckily, sleep had remedied some of his anxiety, at least to your eye. He appeared fine with the idea of sitting back for most of the day with movies.

“So, what do you know about this place? This world?” you asked as you hit the pause button as the opening logos of Thor began to appear.

Loki was sitting formally, with immaculate posture. “My seidr doesn’t work here. And your version of a Loki variant is possibly fictional and enshrined within these documentaries you are about to show me.”

“What’s a variant?” you asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki said after a moment’s pause. “Show me the films,” he added with a hint of sadness.

Thus began your day watching Loki watch himself in movies. It wasn’t exactly what you’d pictured you would be doing with him if he ever became real, but at least you weren’t bickering or fighting Christopher Eccleston. He seemed entranced, a little disturbed, but also fascinated in earnest. Once in a while, he even made a critic’s comment on the filmmakers’ and actors’ choices. It made you smile when he did, because his shoulders relaxed, he sat back against the sofa cushion. He was becoming comfortable with you.

He remarked that Thor’s film counterpart was a bit off in particular: the real God of Thunder was apparently a bit less bumbling. He was as much a hunter as he was a soldier, which gave him sharper instincts than what was portrayed on screen. Still, the physical resemblance was outright uncanny.

“So, to be clear: in your world, Loki is ONLY a character?” he asked.

Nodding, you hoped he wouldn’t have some kind of existential crisis triggered by your honesty. “Yes. All of these people are the result of actors acting and writers writing.”

“And Midgard is the only Realm that exists?”

“As far as we know, and we’ve mapped the stars pretty well.”

“...and there’s no magic? Or Avengers?”

“Not outside of Comic Con.”

“This fellow playing my role is a bit theatrical.”

You nearly snorted your water. Loki even made you laugh once in a while. “You really think so? Isn’t that the point, though?” you giggled. Loki looked at you warmly.

“Your laugh is nice,” he said. “I am fond of the sound of laughter. You know, I notice these stories neglect my more playful side. I wasn’t always a parasuicidal, power-maddened Prince.”

You raised a teasing eyebrow, and he shrugged. “To be fair, I did say not always.”

He knew more about the plot than you expected. You noticed in some scenes he mouthed the dialogue verbatim, which sent shivers down your back to see. Other times, he seemed as clueless as a first-time viewer as to what was happening, especially when you popped in Ragnarok after a brief lunch break.

“That wasn’t at all how Sakaar happened,” he hissed bitterly. “I never attempted to betray Thor, and would’ve never allowed him to electrocute me without my permission!”

You chose to skip over the next film (ignoring Loki’s odd addendum about ‘permission’) and you got the feeling Loki knew why. “Thank you,” he said, “yes, I know what happens to me on the ship after Ragnarok.”

“How?” you asked. “You’re not as surprised by some of this as I thought.”

“I’m surprised by some of the accuracy, yes,” he admitted, looking at you with a twinge of sorrow in his eyes. “But you aren’t the first one to bring my life’s review before my eyes like this.”

“Who was the first? And how?” you wondered.

“Are there other films of this Loki?” Loki asked. “I can show you what happens next. Surely you know my life didn’t exactly end there.”

“Sort of.”

You got up from the sofa to clear the boxes of old Chinese leftovers as you explained. “You do get away in the next one, the last one. They figure out time travel. Thor finds a universe where you escape from arrest after taking over New York.”

“Yes,” recalled Loki, “but did they show you what happened after that? Where I fell?”

You bit your lip as you crammed everything into the overflowing garbage can as far down as possible. “Not unless you can afford fifteen extra bucks a month,” you admitted. “There is more, but I don’t have access to it.”

“We need to find it,” Loki decided. You were about to agree when he changed his tone: “Oh…perhaps I can regale you with the antics of the TVA myself?”

The way he looked at you, hopeful that you’d agree to hear his version of the next chapter of his life instead of the MCU’s, warmed your heart. You had to fight back your urge to leap across the room and embrace him. Scaring him was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. What you did do was sit next to him again and fold your legs underneath you.

You said simply, “Please.”

And he did. For hours after.

There was something in the way he wove a tale that felt not quite of this planet. His delivery was almost exaggerated as he told you about the TVA, Mobius, Sylvie, and OB, as well as Kang and Ravonna, and how he ended up unconscious and naked in an alley on South Salina street.

His voice was hot and soothing, like a drink of tomato soup against a dry, raw throat. You could have melted into his lap as he described everyone and everything, all of the marvelous lands that didn’t exist for you, the magnificent species and cultures, and the horrendous monsters he’d beaten.

You didn’t particularly care for Sylvie, who sounded like she thrived off of Persecution Complex and attention like a lamprey fed off of a shark’s hind. The way he described both her and Mobius, with equal fondness and perhaps even love, made you sink back in your seat. You were suddenly not as giddy inside.

“You love her,” you said softly and suggestively.

Loki shook his head in denial. “I thought I did until I repeatedly attempted to pull her away from the Citadel.”

“What happened there?”

He explained that he’d realized there, after repeatedly trying to pull her away from her desire to murder Kang and set the timelines into brutal chaos on a scale not even Loki could contain, that sometimes people don't change. It was all Loki could do to accept that perhaps the trite little world in Oklahoma that Sylvie longed for was, perhaps, the one she belonged in after all.

“I don't agree,” you said stubbornly, sticking out your chest in a bit of cartoonish defiance. “She needs to be held accountable for nearly taking down all of reality.”

He sighed. “No, I don’t see how. Her fate is not mine, nor is mine hers. She couldn’t take my place.”

“Your place?” you asked inquisitively. “You mention so many weird things, Loki, and expect me to know them.”

He didn’t answer you. Instead, the wheels in his head were sparked into action, and he looked for a moment as if he were reading something in the air in front of him as his idea materialized.

“Maybe…” he suddenly said. “...the stone!”

“What?” you asked, snapping out of your dreamy trance.

“We have to go back for the stone!” Loki snapped up off of the sofa as if his ass were on springs. It startled you. “Where I landed!”

“Loki! You don’t know your way around here at all! It was dark and rainy last night, so how do you expect to find it?” you slowly got to your feet and put your hands on your hips.

“There was a street sign nearby. S. Salina street! I’ll know what it looks like,” Loki promised, grabbing your hand and dragging you toward the door. “Quickly!”

“Oh my god,” you said, your breath quickening, your anxiety beginning to rush upon you. “Please slow down before I pass out. This is all so much!”

You sat back down again, this time on the barstool closest to you. Laying your head on the island, you let out the smallest, lowest moan of frustration. “This couldn’t have been a normal day…”

You didn’t expect to feel Loki’s large, cool hand on your shoulder. You could feel his skin through your flimsy cami top, and it only took a moment before you began to calm. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have assumed that people here move with the frequent urgency they do where I come from.”

The tempest waters slowly receded. You turned around, craning your neck to look up at him. You were suddenly conscious of how much of a train wreck you must’ve appeared. You’d never gotten out of the leggings you wore to bed…the leggings with the two gaping holes in the inner thigh seams.

You quickly slammed your thighs together, but if Loki noticed, he was a true Prince about it and didn’t say a word. Instead, he wiped a small piece of hair from your eye. “Have I made you ill?”

“No! Err…”

A moment of frightening silence passed as the pair of you stood and sat where you were, simply observing one another as two creatures from different planes learning all they could about each other.

Meanwhile it wasn’t helping your blood pressure as you were still having difficulty absorbing the fact that you were staring into the literal face of your teenage sexual awakening. Surely he wasn’t looking at you the same way, but his studious eyes with pounding urgency behind them were taking you in regardless. You felt vulnerable…vulnerable and turned on like a seat warmer in January.

Finally, you couldn’t stand it anymore, and you broke the silence. “If you really think you know where on that street it is, I’m calling a cab.”

On your way out the door, you dug into Joey’s jean jacket pocket, just knowing you’d find treasure. Indeed, it only took a moment before you found his tip wallet, and pulled out several tens and twenties before replacing it. Thank god you finished your shift last night, jerk.

You didn’t bother waiting for Loki to ask before saying, “Don’t worry, he owes me way more than that.”

The rainstorm had receded, but the after effects were worse.

The heat of the waning spring was thick in the air this afternoon, the sun hanging high and dry over the city with not even a wisp of cirrus obscuring it. Humidity radiated off the concrete streets and sidewalks, turning the pavement into a massive stovetop. Luckily, Joey and Loki shared a shoe size (in spite of his diminutive height, he had a larger bone structure that led to large hands and feet). A few buildings over, near one of the corners, a small group of kids had managed to crack open an old fire hydrant and were running under the makeshift water fountain, ignoring the hollers of the angry adults scolding them. It had to be ninety degrees with the heat index, which was hot for this time of year, with summer inbound but still another ten days away.

Sadly, shoe size was the ONLY size Loki and Joey had in common, and the God was forced to wear the smelly castoffs from the police station the night before. You counted the bounty you’d stolen from your brother as you waited for the cab. “I think we have enough to get you something from the Salvation Army while we’re out. It won’t be pretty, but at least it’ll be clean…and not so full of holes and stains!”

“The Army! That’s what I need!” Loki shot back, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Sweet Jesus, Loki, I still have so much to teach you.”

You asked the cabbie to drive low and slow as you drove about the city, down to the south end on the other side of the highway divide. Once there, you were surprised by how quickly it took for Loki to shout “Stop! Stop the car!”

The cabbie did as he was told, and you threw two twenties at him. No need to force him to linger, especially when you had other places to go within walking distance.

Loki pulled you along by the wrist as he maneuvered down the familiar street.

“There! That’s where I awoke!”

He ducked into an alleyway, lined high along each side with filled trash bags, loaded dumpsters, and wet, crumbling cardboard boxes. Immediately, he turned to the west wall and began looking down at the ground, as if he was just going to find this stone lying on the ground.

“Hey, I got bad news for you, Loki,” you whispered, “if this stone was shiny and bright like the one in the movies…it probably wouldn’t last very long just out in the open in a neighborhood like this.”

He didn’t listen, but as the minutes passed, he realized that you were right. The stone was absolutely and undeniably not in the alley. Someone had made off with it.

“The old man with the…territorial streak,” he mumbled to himself, recalling the first face he’d seen when he arrived in Syracuse.

Before you could ask what he meant, you were cut off by the sound of laughter from across the road.

“Oooh look, Naked Loki’s back! In clothes!” shouted Di, whooping gleefully from the same deck as she’d been last night. “Thank the Lord! Hi, Naked Loki!” she cheered as she waved vigorously in your direction.

“I think he was better off when he wasn’t wearing anything!” giggled her roommate.

“Hello, ladies,” Loki said briefly, waving sheepishly and tipping a non-existent hat to them without moving closer. “May I inquire something of you?”

Di and her roommate laughed again, and Di primped her hair. “Well, I’ll see what I can be inquired of.” She laced her reply with a British accent that would’ve made Dick Van Dyke shake his head in shame. The sass more than made up for it. You nearly lost your mind in sudden laughter.

“The crazy man who shouted at me from this alley last night--”

“--Abe?”

“Yes! Abe! Exactly! Abe!” Loki snapped to full attention, a positive bounce in his step as he finally moved in on his new friends. You followed behind him slowly, stepping back to let a car pass first. “Do you know what Abe does with things he finds? Shiny things? Does he stash them somewhere or sell them?”

“Shiny things, like what?” asked Di.

Loki tried to get her to understand. “Like an emerald, perhaps?”

Di shrugged. “I know he’s got some kind of relationship with Kit at the pawn shop near Gannon’s. I guess he’d go there to sell. Dunno if he does, though.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” said Loki graciously, thinking nothing of taking the woman’s hand in his and laying a brief kiss on it.

“Woo! Come on back anytime, Naked Loki!” she squealed.

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atlafan · 4 years

Note

Nonfamous Harry dating famous yn would be great

a/n: a little bit of fluff, thanks for the idea!

Starstruck

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. There she was, Y/F/N Y/L/N, leaning on the bar, laughing with her friends like she was an ordinary person. Okay, underneath it all, she probably was a normal person, but still, this was a big fucking deal.

She could sing, and had been in the public eye for quite some time. Harry and his friends were on a little trip to NYC, just to see a show or two. He never thought when they walked into the random bar they chose after seeing The Book of Mormon would lead him to the girl of his dreams. He had been a fan for years. He would tweet about her, respectfully, and even make tik toks saying how amazing he thought she was.

He had imagined it in his head so many times, but he never thought he’d be in the same room as her, well, he had been, but it was a few of her concerts.

“Harry, you should go over to her.” One his friends says.

“She’s with her friends, I don’t wanna look like a creep.”

“So just go sit down near where she’s leaning and play it cool. Shoot your shot.”

Harry takes a deep breath and starts walking over. He didn’t wanna seem like a crazed fan. He didn’t want to cause a frenzy and ruin her evening. He sits down on the stool near where she’s standing and she looks at him. He looks up at her and smiles. She nods at him and looks away. He runs a hand through his hair and looks over at his friends. They gesture for him to try to get her attention again.

“Whatya have?” The bartender says.

“Just a shot of tequila, and uh, I’d like to buy her next drink, whatever it is.” This catches Y/N’s attention and he looks at her. “Hope that’s alright.”

“You know who I am, don’t you...”

“I do.” He sees the visible annoying and defeat on her face.

“Damn, I thought this place would be lowkey.”

“Woah, woah, listen, I’m a fan, and I just wanted to buy you a drink, that’s all.”

“Really?” She scoffs. “You mean you haven’t already given up my location? Haven’t tweeted or texted a ton of people?”

“Well...my friends are over there.” Harry points without looking. “And...I wouldn’t do somethin’ like that. I know you like your privacy. I didn’t even want to disturb you, they know I’m a big fan, and-”

“So you started out as a fan, and now you’re a big fan.” She smirks and sits down on the stool next to him. “I’ll have another vodka tonic...on you, right?”

“Absolutely.”

The bartender nods and makes her drink. Harry waits to take his shot. They clink their glasses and he throws his head back.

“I’ll get the next one, it’s the least I could do since I can’t offer you a picture tonight.”

“Oh! That’s really okay, I-” He starts to get up, but she grabs his wrist.

“Relax, you’ve already caught my attention. I don’t get one on one times with fans much anymore, I sort of miss it.”

“Yeah, you don’t really do the meet and greet thing as much...”

“I felt bad making people wait all the time for two seconds, plus, it’s really tiring.” She sips on her drink. “So, what’s your name, where you from and all that. Clearly you’re not from New York with that accent.” Harry chuckles and nods.

“Right, yeah, I actually live in upstate New York. My friends and I are just in the city for the weekend to catch some shows we’ve been wanting to see.”

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

“Harry, Harry Styles.” She extends his hand to shake it and he nearly wets himself from the skin on skin contact.

“What brought you to New York on the first place?”

“University. I’m in a doctorate program now, so I’m teachin’. I plan to go back to London once I’m done.”

“Oh, I love London.” She swoons. “I always have fun performing there, and I love going to BBC radio. Actually, any of the radio stations are fun to visit. I love the people at Capital FM.”

“I can’t lie, I love whenever your interviews get posted on YouTube...”

“I appreciate that, you’re sweet.” She smiles. She was feeling a little tipsy and was looking for a little bit of fun. Harry was cute, really cute. “So you must know why I’m in New York then?”

“I actually didn’t put two and two together...but...oh! I heard rumors you might finally be doing Hot Ones.” She winks at him, but doesn’t confirm.

“I’m here for a few things. I’m actually performing on GMA in a couple of days. How long are you in the city for?”

“Tonight’s our last night.”

“Hm, too bad. I probably could’ve gotten you tickets to the show.”

“I’d drive back.” He smiles. “Yikes, that sounded desperate.” She can’t help but giggle.

“You really like my music, huh?”

“I do. You’re one of my favorite artists.”

She’s tapped on the shoulder by one of her friends. She turns to her to chat and he takes the opportunity to look at his friends who are all giving him a thumbs up. He notices her wave her friends off.

“Harry?” She says turning back to you. “I don’t wanna get too drunk here.” She says, putting some cash down on the bar.

“Oh, well, I really appreciate your time, thanks so much for talkin’ to me.”

“You’re too cute, the night’s not over yet...not if you don’t want it to be.”

“What are you sayin’ exactly?”

“I’m saying...well...my car’s pulling up out back and you’re welcome to come back with me.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sure.” She shrugs.

He gets up and follows her out, not even bothering to look at her friends. They go down a long hallway and a man opens the door for them. Another man opens up the car door and they both get in. There was a driver already up front. She tells him what streets to take to avoid papz, he nods, and rolls the partition up.

“Bert is the best driver I’ve ever had. Simply the best.” Harry was trying not to shake. He wasn’t sure what was happening. “Don’t look so nervous.” She places her hand on his knee. “I don’t typically do this with fans. I mean, I wouldn’t even date a fan to be honest with you.”

“So...what’s happening right now?”

“I don’t know...you’re really cute, and...I thought it was sweet that you genuinely just wanted to buy me a drink and chat. No one ever does that for me. You seem...normal.”

“In case you’re already runnin’ a background check on me, I do make posts about you sometimes...nothing that would show up in a thirst tweet video or anything...but like I said, I’m a big fan.”

“Do you have a shrine to me in your closet?”

“Jesus, no.”

“Alright, then we’re good.” She shrugs. The car stops. “We’re here. We’re going in back, but keep your head down the entire time.” She puts a pair of sunglasses on and out the door they go.

Harry stays quiet as he follows close. She leads him down a few bare halls, and then they come to an elevator.

“Ever been to a penthouse suite before?”

“Can’t say I have.” He smirks.

“Well, you’re in for a treat. This is one of my favorite hotels to stay at when I come here.”

They get off on the floor, and go down the hall to a large double door. She keys in and kicks her heels off.

“Finally.” She sighs. “If I weren’t so short, I wouldn’t even wear those things. Can I get you a drink?” She walks over to the mini bar and grabs some tequila and orange juice. “Feel free to say no.”

“A drink sounds great, actually.”

She makes them up and he sits on the couch. She rifles through the desk in the living area. She brings over a pen and a few papers.

“What’s this?”

“It’s an NDA.” She sighs. “Before we continue chatting you have to sign it. My manager insists on it, and so do I. You could easily run out of here and report everything to the press.”

“I thought this was just...a rumor.” He takes the papers and pen from her. “But I’m happy to sign. You have a right to privacy like everyone else.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that, Harry, really I do.”

He hands everything back to her after he signs, and she takes pictures, sending everything to her manager.

“Would you mind keep your phone where I could see it too? I’m sorry.”

“Sure!” He takes it out of his pocket. He even turns it off, and then sets it on the glass coffee table.

“Thank you.” She smiles. “You have so many tattoos.” She points to his left arm. “Tell me all about them.”

They talk for a while, having a lot of pleasant conversation. She loved the sound of his accent, it was intoxicating. And because Harry was so nervous, he didn’t mind talking about a storm. He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s nearly 3AM.

“It’s gettin’ late...you must be wanting to go to sleep.”

“You’re a real gentleman, you know that? You haven’t made a single move on me all night.”

“I...I’m just trying to be respectful. This has already been the greatest night of my life.”

“Would you like it to get better?”

“What do you mean?”

“Harry.” She sighs. “Not that you need to do anything you don’t want to...but don’t you want to?”

“Like...have sex?”

“Yeah.”

“You want to have sex with me?”

“Mhm, you’re really handsome. But if you’d rather leave, that’s fine too.” She smiles. “No pressure.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

The kiss lead to some heavy petting, and the heavy petting lead to Harry having sex right there on that couch with Y/N. And that lead to him sleeping in her comfy hotel bed. Well, they didn’t get much sleep because they had sex at least two more times. Once he passed out she looked up his accounts on her phone. She wanted to know just exactly what he might be saying about her in the social media world. It really wasn’t anything bad. It was mostly memes or him telling people to stream her music. Not the worst she’d seen. When he wakes up he feels like he’s in a dream.

“Morning.” She says.

“Hi.” He smiles. “I’ll, uh, get outta your hair.” He gets up and grabs his boxers and other clothes. She grabs one of her large bed shirts to throw on.

“Wait! I promised you tickets to the GMA performance.”

“No you didn’t.”

“But I wanna give them to you. I’ll put your name on a few lists, you can come back stage. I’d expect you to say hi.”

“You’ll really remember be in a few days?”

“Of course! I don’t think I’d forget the guy that gave me six orgasms.” He blushes at her words.

“Right.”

“I’ll need your phone number and all that.” She hands him his phone, and he cautiously takes it to add his number. He texts himself. “Thanks.”

“Well...thanks for an incredible night.”

“No, thank you. I know you’re going back to your friends, but remember what you signed...”

“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.”

“Good.”

Harry had no idea his life was going to get turned upside down by going to that GMA performance. He was able to go on a real date with Y/N and they continued to hit it off. A budding relationship was getting ready to bloom.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #starstruck #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 24

Following the directions you had written out after researching maps from Maine, the airport to your next hotel, one oddly metal wrapped hotel in a city of older brick buildings painted lighter shades surrounded by trees. Inside your room the irritating wall of windows was covered and to get ready for the next day of shooting you showered and called your father and Richard after having been texting Lee on your bus ride and walk here. The first week here would be focused on Darkness Falls with a read for The Ring in the week after between scenes continuing your role as nurse in the first thriller. With no costume changes and little variation on locations to be at for you limited to a single building while others were left to more.

Walls of trailers sat waiting for everyone to file into. Among about twelve main speaking actors you had your own to share with the other nurses. It was a simple day today, merely some background scenes but it was laying the groundwork for the scenes to come. Quietly you entered the trailer with the other women chatting as their hair was being wound back into buns allowing you full room of the costume half of the space. A mousy woman just as talkative asked, “Miss Pear I take it?”

You nodded with a grin, “Yes.”

While shrugging out of your jacket she got to shuffling the hangers for your costume. Propping your foot on your leg untying your converse was easy and followed by the second as she unzipped the large garment bag with all you would require. An easy unbuckle of your jeans had them sag enough to grab and step out easily, on top of your folded jacket lying on the chair over your bag the jeans would go. As she eased the uniform out she said, “It really is a straight forward costume. Though I do think the material is nicer than the usual nurse costumes I’ve worked with, at least for comfort with their non snazzy selves.” Her eyes shifted to you in the smooth fold of the jeans you settled into the jacket while she brought out the white pantyhose you would have to wear, “Though these, no helping these.”

Smirking at her comment you had your arms out of the sleeves and in a shrug your baggy t shirt was off over your head pausing her and the hair stylist across the room seeing your toned self in the white colored underwear and bra that you were all asked to supply yourselves. “Can’t stand pantyhose,” You said lowering your shirt that in two easy flicks the sleeves were folded in and the bottom half flipped up to plop the shirt onto your jeans. Your socks were pulled off next, “But at least I’m getting paid to wear them.” Accepting the pantyhose to ease on as gracefully as possible to keep from tearing a seam in the unforgiving accessory they were pulled on and in looking up you asked in her step closer with the step in costume, “Do you just work with us?”

She nodded, “Emma Caulfield has her own wardrobe handler with works with Chaney Kley and Lee Cormie.”

Up over your back over your arms tucked back to ease the sleeves up she lifted the uniform asking, “Is your role really physical?”

In a glance at her when you turned for her to adjust the dress she then buttoned up for you at her silent insistence to do so making it perfect you answered, “Oh, not really, but I have a ballet role in a few months I have to stay in shape for.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Do you do ballet roles often?”

“For films, no, but I have worked with a couple ballet companies between projects. I was too short until last year for most companies to go lead in professional companies.”

A knock at the door had heads turning and a man popped his head in, “Steph we’re having trouble with getting a few of our extras dressed before set time.”

“Right,” glancing between you and him she grabbed your white tie on sneakers saying, “Just these left, Lin is almost done for your hair and makeup.”

“No problem, thank you.” She paused a moment at the odd thanks and flashed a quick grin on darting off to help get everyone else ready for the hospital scenes and Sheriff’s office scenes that would be filming at the same time on side by side buildings.

Against the wall you waited hunched again to tie on the shoes you might as well be barefoot in with the pantyhose if not for the white ankle socks that were tucked inside the thin shoes. With a grin you moved to the chair when called removing your hair clip letting your curls fall down your back for her to wind up into a pinned bun she then brought out the watch they had picked for you to wear helping you to secure it on your wrist. All the while chatting with the woman who just popped in to get you ready right away doing your next to unnoticeable makeup before being called off as well in your move to put your things in your assigned cubby along the wall. With your new copy of Frankenstein book in hand to follow the duo out to the lot that an aid guided you and the others on your ways to your proper sets, being one of the many extras with papers or distractions between takes. Out of the way while the lights were being adjusted after accepting your scene packet for the day against the wall a few eyes shifted to you once you’d read through the packet then lifted your worn second hand book raising curiosity for what the quiet ‘Nurse Lauren Pear’ as named by your name tag was reading.

“Frankenstein?” The Emma Caulfield asked lifting your gaze from the page you folded the corner over closing the book around your finger. “On a horror film set? You must have nerves of steel.”

In her chuckle a weak giggle left you trying to calm yourself to reply, “Two of my friends are in a Dracula film that has Frankenstein and Dr Hyde in it. I’m reading that book next. Tried reading this one when I was little but one of my cousins borrowed it and never gave it back. I got an extra role in it when they do some reshoots so I have to catch up on research and I know Dracula like the back of my hand.”

With a nod she replied shifting her arms around her middle to the chill blowing in from a prop being wheeled into the metal building housing the hospital sets. “Ya on Buffy we have a sort of unspoken rule to have to study up on the history of vampires so I am right there with you. Plus horror genre, not a bad niche. Those your only two horror films?”

“I have a read for another one in a week. Films after I’m done on this one. Little ghost girl who kills people ends up putting me in an asylum.”

“Ooh, nice. So this is a busy winter for you then?”

“Oh yes, was at the premiers for Lord of the Rings in New Zealand and London where I filmed a bit in a film after filming three extra roles back in New York.” Her brows inched up, “And after this next film I have two more roles I’ll be in Texas for a few months on those.”

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever been that busy even with the show.” You shrugged through a grin and she asked, “Are you always that busy?”

“No, not at all. Lord of the Rings was my first film role, and back in September when I got back to New York there was scores of films needing recasts and more extras due to drop outs of projects out there. From the Directors I met there I got a pack of scripts to read for and it sort of snowballed from there. But I think it’ll even out again by fall. Big plans for you?”

Through another nod and her grin returning she replied, “Yes, I have a few guest spots on some shows and another small film we’re doing the table read for to film next year, but there’s a whole boot camp I’ll have to go through for the last part of the year to get ready.”

“I have to say I kind of like the roles requiring boot camps.” Adding a giggle at the end making her chuckle too.

“They are fun, you aren’t cold?” She asked smoothie her hands over her arms coated by the sleeves of her sweater eyeing your bump coated bared arms when the door had been propped open for several minutes now as a few spare beds were being brought in.

“Used to it. Went to school in New York and London, neither places I stayed in had reliable heaters or hot water.”

Chuckling again she replied, “We’ve all had those apartments starting out. In a better place now?”

“Moved up a floor in New York, so I have warm water if I wake up at two in the morning to bathe, and I stay with my Mate in England at his place, where he has an astonishing house somehow supplied with a working heater and hot water. Brags endlessly.” Making her giggle with you.

“Is it hard being so far from your Mate? Mines out in Canada, been best friends since kindergarten.”

“Aww, so sweet. I only met a few years ago. Started over email as Pen Pals. I was bouncing from school to school from New York to England and I ran into him by chance in a pub by campus after my flight landed.”

“Aww,”

You giggled again, “Yes, now that I’ve graduated, it’s different but easier. I’m traveling for work but we fly out when we can.”

“What does he do, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh not at all, he’s an actor too. He’s with a theater troupe out there most of the year but he’s studying up on a film role, just had a tv trilogy on BBC actually. This new one’s got something to do with being a security guard,” you said with a giggle, “Some murder mystery, not really sure how he’s prepping. Might be in a training course for experience if he’s feeling dedicated enough for it.” Gaining another chuckle from her at your next giggling smile shifting from her to the boy coming over to speak with the woman pretending to be his big sister and guardian.

Friendly and just enjoyable to be around from the former wallflower that had come into their view in their eyes was a vast shift from you now. No longer smiling, and cold with eye rolling galore between paths in and out of the shot. Mainly just talking today from background shots to Emma Caulfield’s lines with her fake brother and the Doctors and techs you passed building an unsettling aura that many a relative and patient in hospitals had witnessed, the nurse equaled to dragons or creatures just as callous to their suffering or feelings. Way more than on the page but to you at least the silence of your empty instructions to sit and do nothing or walk too and fro between what even read cruel you had to play the part and not the bubbly ray of sunshine who would turn harsh when alone.

Steadily harsh throughout was your plan and by the smirk on the Director’s face on instructing actors what notes to add to their next take or scene a wide yet bashfully proud smile split across your face as he said, “Miss Pear, keep doing what you’re doing.” Always however between takes the bubbly came out again. And jokes for the young boy kept him distracted at least while you were around to allow realigning the camera or props. Most commonly having the set echoing with his giggles to your jokes and stories you bonded with him to keeping him where they needed him and away from running off for his gameboy sure to delay things for to long.

It was a lovely first week on set and with your first two days off with map in hand you were off to figure out where your table read was. “Two blocks,” Shifting the map slightly to read the address on the call sheet notice you’d copied from your email this morning right into your side a body collided and in front of you another map fell.

“Oh shit, sorry,” the man said as you bent to grab his foldable map you passed back then stopped to point at him making his brows inch up.

“Hey you’re heading to the read too, right?”

“For, The Ring?” He asked lowly as if he’d be tackled for saying the just barely still pre production film out loud in the streets.

“Ya, I’m playing Becca, you’re the lead future dead guy.”

In relief he chuckled and accepted his map, “Yes, well, future dead guy is lost. Gave my cab the wrong address I guess and he dropped me at a corner by a gas station bout half a mile back.”

“Well I think it’s two blocks. Went to school in New York, so maps are kinda my forte.” Making him smile and join you on the path only to look down spotting on the side of your middle and ring finger a heart and the word ‘Morning’ written in two different styles he’d noticed following your gaze to your sudden giggle.

“New tattoo?”

Glancing up at him with a grin you shook your head, “No, my Mate’s up. He’s out in England. I always write morning when he’s sleeping and he writes back when he wakes up.”

His smile crept out saying, “That is adorable. All I get is some bad Ozzy Osbourne echoing in mine’s showers.” Making you giggle again as he remembered to pull a band-aid out for his Mate Marker to cover on the side of his finger so the singing wouldn’t disturb him while reading today.

“That is nice too. I get his singing at night while he cooks and showers. Love in an Elevator.”

“Classic,” Making you both chuckle again. “Ooh.” He said seeing a car with cameras drive by, ��Must be getting close.” On the corner you saw a block away a taxi stop and out of it you saw Liev Schreiber step out to help Naomi Watts smiling in accepting his warm hug and kiss goodbye captured on film before his climb back in to head wherever taking the cameras with him when she hurried inside. “Aha, the finish line.” He looked down at you asking, “Were you going to walk everyday?”

“It’s not far. Just about ten minutes on foot. Used to hoofing it.”

“Well if I do pass you up I’ll stop to let you in, weather apparently is fickle out here.”

When the crossing light changed you crossed only to spot the other teens crammed in a single taxi piling out after realizing they were staying together at the same hotel and wished to save some cash by pooling funds. “Hey.” He said waving to the teen who recognized him.

Into the group you blended and the teen girl you would be doing the earliest of your scenes with at the apparent sleepover asked, “Which hotel are you at?”

“Bit-Moore? I think,” looking at your room key keychain you pulled from your pocket you said, “No, Jaybird, oh that’s right the Bit one was in Canada...”

She smiled saying, “You’ve been to Canada? Have you been skiing yet? I love their slopes.”

“Not yet, bit scared to ski honestly.”

In a chuckle she replied patting your arm, “Trust me, I was nearly in tears first time I went but now I love it. Just love it.” Flashing her a grin you tried to mask the fact that you would most likely never ski nor wish to try hoping that someone would change the subject only for Amber’s eyes to flinch wider as she said, “Oh my god, your eyes are purple!”

Seemingly shuffling to all get a better view of your bright eyes lit by the light pouring in through the large windows in the front lobby. Each person gawked while curiously after being buzzed through the door to the back Naomi eyed the group deciding to wait on her own peek at the purple eyed stranger hidden in the group of cast mates coming for the table read. “So pretty,” echoed around from a few of the female teens while the guys gave a sort of nod and at the gentle pat on your back from your self decided carpool buddy, Martin Henderson, the group shifted to the main desk to let the curious woman behind the desk know what your group was here for.

Amber again took your side as you all waved your way through the door confirming from the stack of headshots who had arrived that she checked off her official list counting how many more were to come. Patting your arm again she said, “That was rude. Wasn’t it?”

You shook your head, “Not at all.”

“Still, I’m sorry you must get that all the time.”

“Not really.”

“Seriously?” Said one teen while another replied, “You must be joking.”

“No, well, you see I grew up in Texas and my dad’s brothers all look exactly like him, so all us cousins look alike, dark hair and purple eyes with a few green eyed stragglers in between.” Making one of the male teens chortle to himself at the term, “So when we went to school it was just another one of us walking through the halls. Only the transfer students or foreign exchange students were shocked really. Then I went to England for college when I was sixteen after skipping a few grades and I don’t think I’d seen so many bloody noses from collisions and just wide eyed stares. My first day moving in to my dorm and this big rugby player just stops staring so I turn around thinking there’s a spider or a mad dog or something behind me and it took about ten people either bumping into things and just staring for me to ask the lady at orientation day if I had something on my face or clothes,”

Martin Henderson, “What’d she say?”

“Purple. Just looked me dead in the eyes the whole time and all she could say was purple. Sad to say I’d just gotten off my flight so it took a few minutes to click but I got used to it and it sort of rippled around campus and everyone got their turn to gawk and then it calmed down till family or friends would visit.”

Amber, “Just like that?”

“Just like that, because then the people who had heard me talk let everyone know that I was from the States and I became a different type of sideshow for their interest. So by the time I got hired as a waitress I picked up the accent because I was not going to be the purple eyed Southern Belle to every single person seated in my area.” Making the teens chuckle as you let out a giggle filing after Martin Henderson into the conference room where Naomi and a few of the actors playing her friends and coworkers mingled over coffee.

Another teen asked, “So it’s just been like that since leaving your hometown?”

“Little bit. I mean my southern accent didn’t help in Julliard but the eyes helped me to get more than a few photographers willing to snap pictures helping to get some headshots and a book for some printed ad work. Work what you got, even if I was under five feet I made it work for me. Might not know your name but everybody is curious when they hear or read about the eyes on my resume.”

One of the male teens nodded his head saying, “Certainly gets your foot in the door at least.”

The guy to his right said, “Ice breaker for sure. I hear a chick has purple eyes, man, I gotta check that out.”

Starting off groggily the Director entered and swiveling heads led to everyone finding their own wheeled chair. Smirks spread at the call to wheel around the table to the empty patch of the room for cast on each scene. By the break for lunch the scenes with the other teens were done and you would return for another hour at least to talk about your asylum scenes you had been aching to get to. Notes and details on extra things to add to the performance halfway read as for performance merely to get a tongue for the lines and tempo wished for each scene. A question of using Naomi’s hand added what would be a whole layer of sinister to the scene that the director asked you to try and keep from blinking through the day of. All the same once those were through with the guard and nurse for your lone scenes in the asylum you were free to head out back to your hotel.

“Hey Richy Rich, love you, just checking in to say that my read is done and I can’t wait to hear about that meeting of yours. Talk to you later,” a hard bump into your shoulder from a man taking up his and your side of the walkway nearly making you drop your book, “Jackass!” You shouted that in his turn to shout at you when he hit you, a reach for your bag ended in your swift kick between his legs spurring a pained squeal from him in a drop to his knees clutching his groin in a collapse forward. Shaking your head you passed a parked cop car that had expected to be chasing a purse snatcher only to be on the verge of wheezing from laughter at how the man’s scuffle had ended. “Shit,” you muttered seeing that the call had ended and no doubt Richard would have a surprising message.

You would have called back only a call from a friend from Karl Urban, “Hey Gimli, I sort of have a favor to ask.”

“Alright,” you replied with a smirk, “I may sort of have a way to help you out. What’s the favor?”

“Well, that film I told you about, Ghost Ship, it premiers this weekend in New York, and for the life of me I can’t seem to book a hotel room.”

“Well no doubt it’s pageant week.”

“Pageant week?”

Softly you giggled saying, “Well I don’t have much sway with hotels but you could crash at mine. I have a three day weekend so I could fly back-,”

“You aren’t there? If-,”

“I’m just in Maine, six hours by train but I could find a red eye for cheap, Lee called yesterday anyways he’s got a show at school he’s anxious about I could surprise him and sit in.”

“You wouldn’t mind? Plus my Lady couldn’t get off for the trip so you could be my plus one if you’re up for a thriller.”

Giggling softly you replied, “I seem to be in a thriller mood lately, just finished my read for my second.”

“Really, wow, when do they start?”

“One is started already, lasts another couple weeks, the second starts next week for a few. Not that big for roles, fleeing nurse and teen locked in an asylum.”

“Ooh, asylum thrillers are fun. Can’t wait to see it.”

“Well I can’t wait to see yours, Ghost Ship, sounds fun on the title alone.” Making him smirk, “How’s your Lady Love handling your trip?”

“Good, excited. I’ve been talking about breaking from simple background for so long it’ll be good for her to see I’m gaining some momentum. How’s your Mate, will he be alright with my staying over?”

“There won’t be any jealousy issues, he’s got a meeting today about a few possible parts and even a commercial, which he’s skeptical about. I don’t know if he was teasing about his snogging a watermelon part of his message,” Karl laughed through the line making you giggle again, “I kind of hope there’s a tape if there is any fruit snogging involved. But when my dad stayed there we got a couple mattresses to lay out in my half bed.”

“Half bed?”

“You’ll see, it’s nothing lavish, so please don’t expect that.”

“Oh no, trust me, I will be grateful for the floor and a hook for my suit.”

“Well I can do a bit better than the floor, even feed you too.”

“You are so kind,” a beep on his end had him saying, “Sorry, that’s my other line but I will see you Saturday I will text you the flight time and all that.”

“Have fun, talk to you later.” He repeated the sentiment and you hung up exhaling sharply taking the last turn for the final stretch to your hotel. Curiously you paused on your way to the open lift halfway filled and headed for the front desk where the grinning manager came over eager to help you. With a grin you said, “Hi, I have a question, I have to fly to New York this weekend for a few days,” he nodded, “That wouldn’t effect my reservation here, will it? I won’t find I’ve been booted out for not using the bed for a few nights?”

To himself he chuckled and said, “Not at all, Miss Pear. No, you have booked the room and used or not the bed is yours through the next month. Especially in our rainy seasons we have guests skiff out to clearer towns for nights out. Would you like us to call you a taxi for your flight?”

“Um, sure,”

He nodded and said, “When you have confirmed the flight time simply call us and we will note it in our books for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome, Miss Pear. Have a lovely evening.” He said and you nodded, turned for the lift to head up to your room to eat something and book your flight.

Sure enough after messaging Lee and emailing your friends from Oxford Richard did call back laughing about his message he just had to hear the explanation for the outburst at the end then delved into his meeting again smiling as he deflated a bit being able to speak with you again after a rough night alone. Having shared a dinner on one of the fifty anniversaries Richard loved to point out and make special even over distances tonight would be much better for him while you laid there sighing at the empty hotel room without any power from a downpour that somehow hadn’t lulled you to sleep just yet.

The Ring came more complex with you befriending some of the teens you were to be pictured with up at a cabin and also in the house where your friend would be killed by the ghost girl. The Asylum scenes however led to your greatest stretch of the role landing you across Naomi who fed off your convincingly chilling portrayal of a broken haunted person. It took a few days for her to shake off the encounter with you so contradictory to your bubbly self helping to lighten the mood between your hard scenes, a much needed distraction however lacking once you had left the rainy state.

Two hours was all you managed to steal for a nap before the day of uniform wearing concerns for Lee Cormie for the scenes before his attack that would be filmed later this week.

Each day you were able to get a bit more sleep while realizing the change was from the sugar pill week of your birth control pills always roughing up your sleep patterns with the dull cramping and soreness to your breasts you always forgot about until you ended up brushing against or rolling onto your stomach or sides. You weren’t a back sleeper normally and this was what you were reduced to, at east with Richard you ad a body cuddled across you to nestle against. Now you just laid there on the useless bed might as well being on the floor for how uncomfortable you felt at the whims of your body in a petty revenge for not using another of your perfectly good eggs it had worked so hard on.

Friday came and before you had realized it Lee was yet to be informed of your return. Takeoff however had your eyes drooping and a tap of a hand on your shoulder had your lips pursed lifting your head from the wall by the window, “Lighthouse, right.” You blurted out making the flight attendant smirk as she had come to make sure that out of the thirty people on the flight you and the other two stragglers were aware of the landing. “Sorry, New York?” You asked unbuckling seeing that the guy across the aisle was gone from his seat with the overhead bin open and empty.

“Yes, do you need help with your bag?”

“Um, probably, had some help getting it up there.” She nodded and stood again to bring your satchel down as you stood bringing your purse from under the seat holding your books and travel papers. “Thank you,” you said taking the bag to walk in front of her blinking awake with subtle swipes of fingers around your eyes thankful for forgetting your make up today. Too tired to care about being seen this exhausted. With duffel picked up in baggage claim the familiar bus then train trip back again came to an end on the sidewalk leading to your stoop.

“Hey!” Out the front door Lee’s eyes snapped open and down he trotted making you grin and accept his tight hug, “You’re back!”

“Yes, thought I’d surprise you at your show. Plus a friend needed a bed for a premier he asked me to.”

That had his brows inching up once you were on your feet again, “Oh, which friend?”

Smirking at him you said, “He’s married with a son at home, Karl Urban from New Zealand. Didn’t know it was pageant week filling hotels. But his lady couldn’t make the trip so he’s lending me his plus one to Ghost Ship.”

“Ooh, that one looks good.”

“Yes it does, and you should be off. I have to nap and try and think up a dress, might just wear my purple one again with a vest, or something, don’t really trust my boobs right now to be out,” His brows shifted in his glance to your chest in the step you took around him, “Go head to class. See you at two.”

“I’m glad you’re back, even if it’s just for the weekend.” Stealing another hug and peck on your cheek.

Pt 25

#Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Lee Pace x Reader OC #The Ring #Darkness Falls #Karl Urban #Ghost Ship #FIlming #Travel #No Sleep #Busy Bee

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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3 - First Come First Serve - Words: 2,788

"Here's her profile, Greg," Sergeant Donovon said, dropping a folder on her boss's desk.

"Clarissa Hughes, aged 32, brown and blue, 5' 5", No. 1 District, been on the force since '10, promoted to Sergeant in '17. Unmarried, unattached, no children, father deceased, mother living in Manchester, one sister in America." Greg sighed after reading the file. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. He never liked cases involving one of his own. They always gave him a migraine.

The scene yesterday was impressive even for someone like him who'd been in New Scotland Yard for over 30 years. The young woman had been found in her apartment, laying face down on the floor. A small bullet hole in the window revealed a sniper had been perched on the roof of a nearby building. While there were entry and exit wounds, they had not yet found the bullet to give to ballistics.

"There's not much to go on. It could have been random. Maybe she had one bad date with someone who was a bit off their rocker and-"

"Inspector," Anderson interrupted.

"Yes?" Greg replied, migraine now doubling.

"They found this at the scene." Anderson held out a Ziploc with a ruby red, silk handkerchief. It had no markings on it, not even a snag, save for the small, gold R embroidered on the corner.

"Where did they find it?"

"It was special delivered today with no return address or other markings."

"Now why would a woman, whose name does not start with R, order a monogrammed handkerchief."

"Bored!"

*bang*

"BORED!"

*bang bang bang*

"Sherlock! I swear you had better stop that or I will call Lestrade this time and tell him it was you who put the hallucinogen in Anderson's tea!"

"Fine!"

"Good!”

*thwap thud thwap thud thwap thud*

"Sherlock?"

"I'm being quiet!"

"What are you doing?"

"A bow and arrow are much more satisfying!"

"Oh -!"

"Torry! Guess what!" Erin called out to her roommate from the living room of their shared apartment.

"You're moving out?" She called back, teasing as usual.

"Haha, very funny," Erin deadpanned. "Really though, this is awesome."

"Did we get a case?"

"Better!"

"Two cases?"

"Torry!"

"Ok! What?"

"In exactly 1 month you and I will be in London, England speaking at the International Inspectors Convention."

"Wow! That's fantastic! I wonder if-" Torry paused. "Nevermind."

"Don't worry, Torry, I already checked," Erin winked. "He's scheduled to speak the day after us."

"Inspector, there's been another murder," Donovan announced, walking up to Lestrade in the break room.

"Ok," he replied. "Is it my division?"

"Yes, this time it was Amelia Walker. She was an Inspector in No. 3 District." Greg slammed his mug down on the counter.

"Walker and Hughes were two of our best inspectors! Have you found any connection yet?" The two grabbed their jackets and headed downstairs.

"Nothing yet. The landlady just reported her body. Anderson's there now with his team."

"Ok then, let's go." The two got in the car and headed off. When they arrived, Anderson rushed up holding a small envelope.

"Another one just arrived," He said. Lestrade grabbed the envelope and looked inside. Sure enough, another ruby red handkerchief with an embroidered R on the corner. "I asked the delivery boy where he got it from but he said he didn't know. It was a different boy this time too."

"Where is she?" Lestrade asked. They followed Anderson over to the body. "Cause of death?"

"Another sniper." Anderson showed them the bullet hole in a nearby window. Lestrade shook his head.

"Did ballistics ever get a lead on the gun?"

"Nothing," Donovan replied. "It's a standard sniper rifle but there are literally hundreds of those to try and track down."

"There must be something we're missing," Lestrade groaned.

"Ah! London! Doesn't it smell great!" Erin exclaimed, taking a deep breath as they stepped off the plane.

"It smells like airplane fuel. Let's wait till we actually leave the airport," Torry replied.

"Ok, grumpy. Geez, remind me never to take you on a flight again." Torry growled in reply but Erin just chuckled. "Let's go get our bags and head to the hotel."

"And go straight to bed. I'm dead."

The next day, the inspectors convention started. There were hundreds of private investigators, police inspectors, and a few other kinds of detectives. Torry kept her eye out for one specific "Consulting Detective" but there was no sign of him on the first day. They did however meet their hotel room neighbor, Frances Grant. She had been an inspector at NYS in London until she moved to Manchester about a year ago.

"Nice gal," Erin commented, walking out of their bathroom that night.

"Yeah. I wonder what that case she mentioned was," Torry replied from her bed, already laying down.

"I don't know. She said she was going to help her old academy friend investigate while she was here, right?"

"Mm," Torry agreed. "Must be pretty serious," She said sleepily.

"Are you really already going to sleep?"

"And why shouldn't I?"

"Seriously? We're in a hotel, got to bed early, have the opportunity to actually watch BBC from London and you want to sleep."

"Yes. You watch TV and tell me all about it when I wake up. I won't be able to stay awake to give BBC my full attention when I'm this tired."

"Party pooper," Erin teased as she plugged in her earbuds. Torry grunted in reply and went to sleep. 2 hours later, Erin was nearly asleep still watching late night mystery shows on BBC.

*CRASH*

"What the-" Erin startled awake. Looking at the TV she saw the detective on the show had just been shot. "Oh, should probably turn that off and go to sleep," She whispered to herself. After turning off the TV and unplugging her earbuds, Erin rolled over and tried to go to sleep.

"Wake up sleepyhead!" Torry yelled the next morning.

"Ok, ok, I'm up," Erin groaned. The girls got ready for the day, Torry dressing up extra fancy since a certain someone was on the program. They headed down for breakfast, where Frances said she'd meet up with them. She didn't show up though and the girls headed back to their room.

"I wonder why Frances didn't come down for breakfast," Torry mused, walking out of the elevator on their floor. Erin shrugged and was about to say something when there was a yell from down the hallway.

"Help! Help! Police! Someone!" A housekeeper cried out.

"What's wrong, miss?" Erin asked, rushing up to her in front of one of the rooms

"Sh-sh-she's dead!" The woman exclaimed. Torry squeezed past her, not noticing which room it was, and looked inside.

"It's Frances!" Torry called out to Erin.

"Oh no!" Erin replied. "I'll be right there!" Erin turned to the housekeeper and handed her a tissue from a box on the cleaning cart. "Why don't you wait in our room? I'll call the police and then they can take a statement from you once they get here." The lady nodded and Erin took her to their room to sit down. From there she called the police.

Meanwhile, Torry began investigating the scene of the crime. "Hm, sniper," Torry mumbled to herself, noticing the window. She walked around the body, examining it and taking mental notes. Suddenly there was a knock on the room door.

"Police!" Torry opened the door at once. "Inspector Lestrade," The man introduced himself. "Are you the one that called?"

"No, that would be my friend, Erin. She's in our room next door with the housekeeper who found the body."

"Are you here for the convention?" Lestrade asked. 'Last thing I need is some amateur messing things up,' He thought to himself.

"Yes."

'Dang it!' He mentally shouted. "Alright, have you moved or touched anything since you entered the room?"

"Really, Inspector, I wouldn't dare! This is a crime scene after all!"

"Ok, just checking," He defended.

"36, married, no children, lives in Manchester, originally from London. That much she told us last night. We had dinner together. She must have died sometime in the middle of the night. I'd say around 2am. Based off the stage of rigor mortis." Lestrade stared at her, surprised. He'd only ever seen one other person rattle off so many facts so quickly. "She was killed by a sniper through the window. I also noticed that-"

"Wait, sniper?"

"Yes. I believe I just said that."

"What's her name?"

"Frances Grant, she's an-"

"Inspector," Lestrade said sadly. "I went to the Academy with her." He shook his head. "Anderson, get me those two other files. Let's see if this one has a connection."

"I'm sure it does, Graham. You probably just haven't looked well enough," Sherlock drawled from the doorway.

"Did I invite you here, Sherlock?" Lestrade yelled.

"Not specifically," He replied coolly, waltzing into the room. "But I heard there was a murder," He said, eyes lighting up. "And I simply had to come!" He grinned.

"Sherlock!" A shorter man yelled from the hallway. "Where did you get off to?"

"In here John!" Torry was just about to say something, finally past the initial surprise that her favorite Detective was standing in front of her, when Erin yelled from the next room.

"Torry! Get over here!" She yelled. Torry, John, and Greg rushed over. "She's gone into shock, can you help me get her on the bed instead of this chair?"

"I can help you, miss. I'm a Doctor," John said.

"Please do, Dr. Watson," She replied. Turning to the others, she asked: "Are you with the Yard?" Lestrade nodded. "She was the one who discovered her body. You'll want a statement later, obviously."

"Ah yes, thank you, Miss-"

"Erin Blair. And that's Torry Star. We're America's only consulting detectives," Erin said with a wink. John's eyebrows shot up immediately. "Yes, Doctor," She continued. "I've read your blog."

"Speaking of Sherlock," Lestrade spoke up. "I had better get back and make sure he hasn't started world war 3 with Anderson."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to come back with you. There was something I noticed," Torry said. Lestrade nodded and the two of them went to the other room. Torry walks in first and, while Sherlock and Anderson are bickering, paces the room. 'Now, I need to check what's shining behind that chair,' She thought. Attempting to go to the corner to check, Torry finds Sherlock is blocking her path. "If you're not going to help investigate the murder, then get out of my way so I can." Torry states. She then pushes past him to examine what she finds to be a bullet casing. Greg had to bite back a laugh at Sherlock's face.

'I've never seen the man look so offended!' Greg thought. 'This will be interesting.' Just then, the hotel phone rang. "Hello, Inspector Lestrade," He said, picking up the phone.

"Inspector, we just had a package dropped off for Miss Grant's room. The boy asked it be delivered right away to Sergeant Donovan."

"Alright, bring it up." Once the package was brought up, Anderson and Donovan opened it carefully while Sherlock and Torry argued over what type of sniper's rifle shoots those bullets.

"It's another handkerchief!" Anderson exclaimed.

"Another?" Torry and Sherlock asked in surprise. Greg explained to them what had happened with the last two murders.

"There's a note with this one," Donovan said shakily. "Congratulations. You're next."

"Let me see that," Torry said, grabbing the handkerchief. "The sniper is a woman. Military or police training with that level of skill. I'd say about 37 with that handwriting. First name is Ruby. This handkerchief is Ruby red and has her monogram."

"Ruby Jones!" Greg exclaimed. "She went to the Academy with me. She failed though. She didn't like working with others. She was too competitive, always trying to prove herself. She had a high level shooting badge and I think she trained on that rifle you mentioned before. I guess she was taking her revenge."

"I'll put out a warrant," Anderson said.

"Thanks," Donovan said to Torry. "I don't know what to say."

"Really?" Sherlock scoffed. "You're thanking her! She did the same thing I do! Well, not as perfectly but still!"

"She's different, Holmes," Donovan spat. "You wouldn't understand, freak."

"And with that I wish we had solved the case a little later," Torry mumbled. Donovan didn't hear her, but Sherlock did. Though he couldn't hold back a slight smile at that, he still felt a bit put off at Torry stealing his spotlight.

Meanwhile, once the others left the room, John looked at Erin with a smirk. "What?" She chuckled.

"America's only consulting detectives?" He teased.

"I couldn't help it," She replied. "We are fairly well known back in the colonies," She said with a posh British accent, making John smile. "We got invited to speak at the convention yesterday."

"Oh! Of course! You were the guest speakers! I actually wanted to come and see you but Sherlock got stuck on a case. It was really only a 3 but I couldn't get away."

"Ah," Erin sounded in agreement. "Yeah, that's happened to us too. Torry and I work together on every case. If one's there, so is the other."

"So which of you is Sherlock then?" John teased. "If I may do a little deduction of my own, you said you read the blog, you're obviously both fans, so it would only make sense that you've tried to compare yourselves."

"Well done, my dear Watson," Erin grinned. "Yes, we've done that. But we don't line up with either of you exactly. I guess it depends on the case. Some Torry picks up on right away, some I pick up on, and some we figure out together 50/50. And we've had some pretty crazy cases too! Nothing as interesting as yours I suppose though."

"Sounds like you make a good team. I, erm, wouldn't mind discussing some of those interesting cases with you," He said casually. "Perhaps the four of us could go out to dinner this evening?"

"That would be lovely!" Erin said. Just as she finished speaking, they heard yelling from Sherlock and Torry in the next room. They rush over to see what the commotion was. Sherlock and Torry were standing toe to toe right next to the body. Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan were just watching in surprise.

"What makes you think you can just waltz in here and take over my crime scene?" Torry yelled, cheeks bright red.

"Yours?" Sherlock scoffed. "London is mine! You're just some American knock off!"

"Knock off! Well then tell me, why didn't you notice the bullet casing? Hm?"

"I hadn't looked there yet! I was just about to!"

"Week excuse from a man who notices everything!" Torry smirked. "Tell me, what's your excuse now?"

"Excuse for what?" He hissed.

"Dilated pupils, elevated heart rate, rapid breathing, shall I list more?"

"I could ask the same for you," He replied. Torry blushed even brighter but maintained eye contact. Suddenly, after a moment of quiet, Sherlock leaned forward and kissed her quickly. "I like you," He whispered. "Dinner tonight?"

"Ok," Torry squeaked, abit dazed. Sherlock spun around, coat swishing behind him.

"John, let's go, we have to get ready," Sherlock stated. John shook his head and Erin chuckled.

"I guess they're just more blunt than we are," Erin joked.

"It would seem so," John replied, blushing slightly himself. "See you tonight then. We'll pick you up here."

"Ok, John," Erin said. "Well, well, well," She then said, turning to Torry. "Solve the case yet?"

"And that's how Torry and I met," Sherlock stated. He smiled at his fiance who was sitting next to him.

"You forgot to mention how nervous you were that night getting ready," John adds, laughing. Erin and Torry chuckled lightly but Sherlock's ears tinted red. The older couple sitting across them by the fireplace smiled. Sherlock had brought John, Torry and Erin to his parents house to introduce the girls and make the big announcement.

"Well, we couldn't be happier for our son," Mummy said. "Or for you John. You're family too you know," She winked.

"So when's the happy day?" Sherlock's Dad asked. Torry and Erin were just about to reply but they were interrupted.

"Oh please!" Mycroft groaned. "Weddings are simply atrocious emotional events that I have no use for." Sherlock's face fell slightly.

"So I suppose our asking you to officiate would be out of the question?" Sherlock asked

"On the other hand," Mycroft said suddenly, a smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps I can make an exception just this once."

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madamsixx · 4 years

Text

Beyond The Leather Chapter 27: Ignoring Nikki

Warning: Mentions of drug use

Model Iman Darlington takes spotlight at London Fashion Week.

Model Iman Darlington took centre stage at London Fashion Week on Saturday night with a gala charity benefit at the impressive setting of the world famous British Museum.

At the event, the British Museum's steps and foyer became a red carpet staging area for fashionable elite who passed the time drinking chilled champagne and margaritas while last minute checks were made on the models' makeup and outfits. This is Karen Dupont for BBC News.

I smiled watching the news. I felt so proud of my self that people talked about me for London fashion week. I mean there were other models but they mostly recognized me as the top model. I was getting called for more magazine shoots, more commercial ads, and more auditions for movies. It was like a dream come true.

I heard a knock on my door as I was getting ready for the fashion show. I looked out the peek hole and saw Nikki standing there. Didn't he say he was leaving today? I opened the door and saw a big smile plastered on his face.

"I thought you were leaving today?" I asked.

"I am but I was just thinking about what you said yesterday. About us being friends." He spoke softly.

I moved to the side to let him come into my room. He walked in and sat down on the arm chair of the couch. And crossed his arms over his chest.

"If you say your going to be my friend it means that if I call you to hang out you'll come out right?"

"Well yeah...but..but if I'm not busy." I point at him.

"But it's not even just that. If I need you in some way. Will you actually be there for me?" He asked with concern.

I didn't know what to say cause my plan was to distance my self slowly.

"I mean, I don't want you to tell me that you're my friend but you're actually fucking around and lying to me. It will piss me off."

I sighed. "I am your friend and if you call me I will be there for you." I assured him.

"Promise." He asked with worry.

Oh God no! If I make this promise I'm doomed. Nikki isn't a bad person it's just the drugs that makes me not want to be around him.

"I promise." I smiled. He got up and took my hand in his and kissed them. "I have to head out. I wanna watch you walk one day at a fashion show. I'm sure I'll enjoy watching those hips and ass sway side to side." He grinned.

"Nikki." I rolled my eyes. "Get out of my room."

He kissed my cheek and started heading out my door. "Oh your going to be in Italy on the 18 right? Milan?" He stopped and turned around raising a brow.

"Y...yes...wait what?" I asked with confusion. I never told him I was going to Italy.

"Here." He says pulling out a paper from his jacket pocket. "These are the places we're going to next and the hotels were staying at so you can call me." He walks bringing me the paper. "I'll call you at your hotel." He smirks and walks back out of my room.

"Wait...wait Nikki." I poke my head out of my room. "I never told you I was going to Italy. Who's giving you my information?" I raised my voice.

He had his bags in the hall and pushed the elevator button. He turned and smirked at me. "Bye princess." He got into the elevator and left.

Ok what the hell, how does he know where I'm going to be?

The show was a success again. Tomorrow would be the last show and then I would be flying out right away to Milan. I was very excited.

____

February 18, 1986

I just finished the last show in London. I had a couple hours to spare so I decided on hanging with the girls before I had to leave for Milan. I realized that the only time I would get to sleep is on the plane. As soon as I get there I would have to quickly shower and get ready for the fashion show.

We all went out to eat and talked about how fun it was. I thought to my self that the show was fun, but I didn't get the experience I truly wanted. Nikki Sixx is to blame for that. My fondest memory on this trip is Valentine's Day and how he was nearly thrown into the trash like nothing. I'm hoping to make good memories in Milan and not think about these ones in London.

Vince had called me to say that he's seen me on the news and wanted to hang out as soon as I got back. I told him for sure we can. Nikki also called but he was completely high out of his mind. He was slurring non stop and didn't make any sense. He rambled on and on about making me happy, and us moving in together, and how I hurt him. I had to tell him to go to sleep and call me when he's sober. I couldn't be bothered with him at the moment right now. I even started thinking about the promise I made to be there for him, I guess I could try to.

Who am I kidding, I have a lot going on with me right now I won't be able to focus on him. Besides he's a grown ass man and should be able to get himself together. It's the life he chose.

When I get to Italy I planned on sight seeing and taking pictures. Plus Derek called and asked me if he could come up and check me out. I called Tamara and asked her what she thought about it. She was more than happy she was ecstatic. She kept on saying make sure paparazzi catch us together. Well with Derek planning on making a trip to Milan I guess I will have no time to call Nikki or even answer his calls. There.. now I have an excuse to ignore his calls. _____

February 1986, Paris

Nikki's POV

"I'm sorry Mr.Sixx, Miss Darlington is still not available. Would you like to leave another message?"

I slammed the phone down in anger. I have been calling her for 3 days since she reached Milan and she's not answering her phone. Is she ignoring me? Why would she do that when she said that we should be friends again? I even gave her my information of where I would be staying so that she could call me as well.

I pulled out a bindle of coke and lined it on the table. I snorted it up then made another line and snorted that one up too.

I feel like fucking shit today. Last night I wanted to run out and look for heroin, but I forced my self to lie in bed and wait for sleep to come. I wasn't going to kick heroin, but maybe it was time to slow down. I started trying to control my intake. I'd shoot up one day, then stay clean the next. Somtimes I'd go as many as three days without shooting up.

But I'm just fooling myself. I'm so addicted to it that I can't stop. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a knock on my door.

"Hey dude."

"Hey T bone." I moved to the side so he could come in.

"Wow man you look like shit." He laughed and sat down on the chair by the table.

"Yeah I feel like it too." I sat on my bed leaning my back against the head board. I wonder if I should call her again?

Tommy pulled out and baggy and made some lines on the table. "Hey Sixx what's up with you?" He says as he starts snorting the lines.

"Mani's not answering my calls. It's been 3 fucking days and she hasn't got back to me. I knew she was just fucking around." I spat and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Bro she's probably sight seeing. Let her live. Besides when she gets back to LA you can chase her down all you want."

"You don't fucking get it Tommy." I huffed.

"Ok tell me Sixx." Tommy rubbed his nose and turned to me.

I sighed. "We've had intimate conversations Tommy. She's told me about her life and her family. How her dad left her mom when they were growing up because he wanted to fuck some other whore. I even told her about my life and the things I've gone through. I'm comfortable around her, like I don't have to hide who I am. And she sees right through my bull shit. At first I just wanted us to fuck each other. And I mean only each other with no label to it. But now I feel different. Especially when she told me she's a virgin. I feel very different about her. I don't want anyone else having her. It'll kill me Tommy."

Tommy let out a humorous laugh."Trust me Sixx I do get it. I feel for Heather what you feel for Iman." He made a couple more lines on the table and started snorting them up.

I felt agitated and angry. One because I haven't had a fix since last night and two because fucking Iman was ignoring me. You can't just block someone out for three days straight. I left her several messages so theres no excuse why she wouldn't get back to me. And I would think that after the night I gave her when we went on the tour bus, walked around London, and me winning her that bear that she would want to speak to me.

I feel hurt and angry, she's just like the rest of those prissy model bitches. Why did I ever look at her like she was any different. In truth she actually started out different. She was nice and genuine, but now it seems to me as she's getting bigger in fame so is her attitude. ____

It was our last show today in paris. Warren DeMartini from Ratt and Phil Collen from Def Leppard are jamming with us on stage. We had a blast we kicked ass. I decided to act like a dick after the show. I saw the camera following us backstage so I decided to pull my dick out and flash the audience. I thought it was funny.

I didn't really feel like sticking around for the after party. The guys were pretty shocked when I told them I wanted to head back to the hotel and be left alone. Mick padded me on the back and gave me a genuine smile. I opened up to Mick about how I felt about Iman. He was the first person who knew. I got back to the hotel to check and see if she returned my calls or left me any messages.

"Hey has any body called me or left me any messages?" I asked the hotel clerk. "Im Nikki Sixx."

She looked at her book flipping through pages. "Mmm no Mr. Sixx sorry there are no messages for you." She politely spoke.

I walked away and headed up stairs to my room. When I got in I sat by the phone. I stared at it for some time wondering if I should call again or just leave it. I can't believe she's ignoring me I can't believe she's fucking treating me like shit. I grabbed the phone and dialed her hotel again. We were going to be leaving soon and heading back to LA and it was pissing me off. I know I wouldn't get to see her because her cunt manager Tamara was always on her case making sure that she stays away from big bad Nikki.

"Hello front desk, how may I help you?"

"Hi this is Nikki Sixx, is Iman Darlington available to speak?" I asked biting my nails.

"Give me second Mr.Sixx I will check."

I waited impatiently, my knees started shaking in agitation.

"Hello Mr.Sixx shes not available would you like to leave another message?"

I slammed the phone and punched the lamp on the side of my table. So her promise meant absolutely nothing. She probably just smiled in my face and said those things to make me get out of her room. If she knew she didn't really want to talk to me she should have just said it so I wouldn't be chasing her down like an asshole. Fuck this, I need something to get her out of my head. I can't have these feelings. I don't know how to even deal with them. I grabbed my suitcase and pulled out my phone book. I grabbed the phone and called my dealer in LA and told him to meet me at the airport. Then I called a limo to pick him up to make sure he'd be on time.

I fidgeted in my seat the whole plane ride, thinking about getting that first sweet hit of heroin in my veins. I didn't care about anything any more I just needed to escape the sorrows of my life. As soon as we landed I was the first one off the plane. I ran to the limo without even giving a shit about my bandmates. As soon as I saw Jason, I grabbed my shit and had the needle in my arm before the door even closed. Fuck Iman and all her bullshit....I don't need her. _____

Iman's POV

I returned home from Italy. The trip was amazing I met so many wonderful people there and made new friends. It is definitely somewhere I would like to visit again not just for work purposes. Lisa had called me and asked me to hang out she had gossip for me that I really needed to hear. I had a week break before going back to work. So I planned on really using the time to hang out with friends and shop.

She picked me up and we went over to her place to hang out. She looked very different. She wasn't the Lisa I remember seeing before I left. She was skinnier, her skin looked pale, and her eyes looked sunken into her head. She looked like Theresa. It was scary to see.

I told her all about Italy and the fashion show. And also about Derek coming down to Italy. She squealed and screamed when I told her about everything we did in Italy. I even went as far as to tell her about London and what happened with Nikki.

"Wow I can't beleive all that happened in London. So he was actually going to be thrown in the trash?" Her eyes went wide.

"Yes he was, I had to rub his back all night. And then the next morning I was falling asleep during the cat walk." I laughed.

"You know he bought a place. A house actually, I been there a couple of times with Izzy and Slash."

"Really!" I raised a brow. "Wow that's good for him. I remember when he was living with Robbin Crosby at his apartment. I went there a couple of times. Where's his house located at anyways?"

She got off her bed and walked towards her dresser to pull a piece of paper out. "Its at 14432 Valley Vista Boulevard. Apparently his girlfriend picked out the place for him while he was on tour." She points out.

His girlfriend! Why am I not surprised? I knew he was full of crap when he told me he wasn't dating Nicole. All this guy ever does is lie. Now I don't feel bad for ignoring his calls one bit.

"He's been throwing huge parties at his place. Everyone whose anyone in the rock and roll scene has been there." She says walking back to her bed. "We went through bags of heroin, rocks of cocaine, cases of cristal, and whatever pills we could get our hands on." She starts laughing.

Wow I didn't know Lisa was in deep with this drug life.

"At one point Izzy Stradlin was rolled up in a ball by the fire place, porn stars were passed out in the living room, and oh my God Britt Ekland came up stumbling out of the bathroom. It was hilarious." She laughed.

I was a bit scared for her. Lisa is very talented and a gorgeous girl. I would hate to see her career go down the drain because of drugs.

"Soo have you had any modeling gigs or acting roles?" I asked hesitantly.

"Mmm no, I'm just chilling for now. Plus my parents have money so if I need something I just take it from them." She grins while plopping back on the bed.

"Maybe you should take it easy on the drugs and the booze and get back into the game. Don't you miss modeling and acting?" I spoke softly.

"We can't all have managers like Tamara who can get you shit tons of bookings." She says pulling a cigarette out of her dresser.

"W..well I can ask her to get you some bookings." I smiled.

"God fuck Iman can we talk about something other than work." She lights her cigarette. "Like me fucking Axl."

"Really!" I asked sitting up. "Girl spill?"

"Well we've been going out for a little while. I brought him over to Nikki's place but Nikki refused to let him in so instead he came over to mine. And well one thing lead to another and we had sex." She says blowing smoke out of her mouth.

I screamed and jumped towards her. I can't beleive her and Axl got together. I hope it lasts what ever it is that's going on between them.

"So are you two dating or what?" I question.

"Well I think we are...I mean I hope so. We've been talking non stop since." She says putting out her cigarette.

"If I tell you something you can't say anything to any one. You promise?" I tensed up and mumbled. Lisa nodded her head. "Oh God." I say putting my hands on my face. "I made out with Nikki 3 times." I mumbled so low that I couldn't even hear my self.

"Huh say that again I didn't hear you?" She says pulling my hands off my face.

"I made out with Nikki." I groaned.

Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "You fucking bitch and you didn't tell me!" She screamed. "How many times?" At this point she was grabbing my arms squeezing them tightly.

"We made out three times. The last time I was actually naked but I couldn't do it." I got up and started pacing around the room. "He wanted us to have sex with out the label and then Vince went on about me being Nikkis whore-"

"What the fuck Vince said that!" She yelled interrupting me. "Fuck him Iman. He's a whore!" She yelled.

"No but he's right Nikki has a girlfriend. So I would have been the other woman." I sighed sadly.

She looked at me with a sad expression on her face. "Y'know Nikki was hurting pretty bad when he came back. I mean he was throwing the parties and everything but I could tell something was off. I think he really likes you."

I sat back down on the bed and sighed. "Lisa he was calling me while I was in Italy and I ignored all his calls." I frowned.

"Iman why?" She ask with confusion. "You just told me he made things right with you before he left. So why ignore him?" She put her hand on my shoulder.

I wanted to say it was because of the drugs. But then I realized Lisa was also doing drugs and God knows what ever else she just mentioned to me. I know if I brought up the drugs she would get pissed off. But maybe who knows it might open her eyes to know that this is something she needed to stop or it would ruin her.

"Because of the drugs." I looked up at her. She became uneasy and worked up again. She leaned over to her dresser and pulled out another cigarette. "I want someone who dosen't have to use drugs in order to have a good time."

She rolled her eyes and lit up her cigarette. "Like Derek right?" She says with a bitchy voice.

"Lisa I'm not judging."

"You know your no saint." She pointed at me. "You hang around drug addicts, dealers, and alcoholics. Slash does drugs, Izzy does drugs, Axl does drugs, Vince does drugs. Everybody is doing fucking drugs Iman. Welcome to 198 fucking 6 and open your eyes. Everybody is doing drugs!" She yelled.

I have never seen her so pissed off like this before. It was making me nervous. But she was right everybody I knew and met in Hollywood so far was doing drugs. Except for Tamara, Jess, Rachel, and the other two girls I met. And no matter how hard I tried to stay away from it. It's the people around me who are my friends that are doing it. And to say I would cut them all off meant that I would have to cut off Lisa, or worse Slash. And that's not going to happen.

"Sooner or later you will too." She snarled and blew smoke in my direction.

I got up and grabbed my purse. "I'm going to get going." I exhaled deeply.

"What fucking ever." She rolls her eyes. I headed for the door but turned around. "No I wont." I say with a serious tone.

"You won't what?" She snapped harshly.

"I will never do drugs." I replied and walked out of her room.

I knew it was the drugs talking and not Lisa. But the best thing for me was to just leave. I didn't want to fight her anymore than I already have.

Later that night....

I was back at the condo watching TV and eating. Tamara had phone a couple hours ago to let me know that she was on her way back. The phone started ringing so I got up to go and answer it.

"Hello."

Heavy Breathing.

"H...hello...I can hear you breathing who ever you are?"

"Iman."

It was Nikki.

"Iman I'm patrolling my house for intruders. Theres people in trees, I'm hearing cops on my roof, and there are helicopters outside my home with S.W.A.T teams coming to get me." He whispered.

"W..wait what? Hang on Nikki who's with you? Where are you?" I asked with worry.

"I have my .357 Magnum and I'm hunting for people in my closet. Some people might be under my bed, and inside the washing machines. Someone is hiding in my home."

Drugs.

"Nikki did you take something? If you did you can tell me?" I spoke softly trying not to cry.

It went silent and I could hear him starting to sniffle a bit.

"Why did you ignore me?" He started sobbing.

"Nikki." I whispered.

"Someones at my door." He says and he hangs up the phone.

I wasn't sure what to do. Should I call the police? Should I tell Tamara? Should I call his band mates? This was the whole reason why I wanted to stay away from Nikki. He was now paranoid with what ever drugs he was taking. I sighed and put the phone down. I walked over to the couch and stared at the TV.

"What am I suppose to do?"

#motley crue #nikki sixx #vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #thedirt #model #chanel iman #bwwm wmbw

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danrifics · 5 years

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Not The First Time

Some of the times Dan almost asks Phil to marry him and the one time he actually does.

Read on AO3

2019 - Las Vegas

Phil stretches his arm out over the bed, disappointment falls across him when he realises the space where Dan had been sleeping previously was empty. He reaches to the bedside table and grabs his glasses. The blurry room becomes crystal clear, the Vegas hotel room was dark but outside the casino lights presented a gentle glow around the edge of the room. The balcony door was open, a cool breeze blowing through. Phil climbed out of bed and headed for the open door. Dan stood, leaning against the glass railing, looking out over the city.

“Is everything okay?” Phil asked

Dan turned around sightly to look at Phil, he smiled and stretched out his hand. Phil took it and stepped closer to the railing.

“Do you remember when we came here for my 21st birthday?” Dan asked, ignoring Phil’s question.

“Not really” They both laugh “well… actually I do remember you drunkenly asking me to marry you”

They look at each other for a moment, they remember it well…

2012 - Las Vegas

They’re not sure how they made it back to the hotel room, they’re also not sure how much they’ve had to drink. Dan has the vlogging camera out and he’s filming himself raiding the mini bar.

“They’ve got Vodka, I need coke though” Dan gets up and almost falls back down but once he’s semi-stable he looks around the room for any sign of a mixer for his drink. He looks into the camera for a moment. “When you can’t find coke you just gotta drink vodka straight”

“You can’t do anything straight” Phil shouts from behind him.

Dan looks into the camera and then turns to look at Phil.

“Neither can you” Dan says, his voice is a mix of endearment but also a hint of annoyance “gonna have to delete this video now, thanks”

He turns the camera off and puts it down, he then grabs the vodka and drinks it from the bottle. Phil takes it from him and puts it down on the bedside cabinet before he heads out onto the balcony. Dan follows.

They stand in the middle of the balcony. Dan pulls Phil towards him, resting their foreheads together. They stand like that for a while before Dan finally speaks.

“We should get married” He says, he’s drunk but he’s serious and Phil can tell “we should get married... here... tomorrow”

“We’d have to tell everyone”

“No. we don’t have to tell anyone” Dan says bluntly.

“Dan… we can’t get married and not tell anyone” Phil says.

He wants nothing more than to say yes, he wants to marry Dan, more than anything, they’re… soulmates… Phil has never met anyone like Dan, his smart. Beautiful. Honest. Dan, he knows at this moment in time they can’t get married. Dan still doesn’t want people to know he’s gay, he’s not ready for his family to know and he’s not ready for the world to know. If they got married it would be public, Phil’s never cared about who knows about his sexuality but for Dan’s sake he’s always kept it hidden.

Dan moves away from Phil and leans against the balcony railing. He looks out over the city. Phil sighs and moves to stand next to Dan. Dan turns slightly so he has his back to Phil.

“Dan look at me, please” Phil puts a hand on Dan’s shoulder but is met with a shrug “I love you but you’re not ready for this y-”

“I am ready. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my whole life. And look I know it’s technically a civil partnership but we can do it now and then when they legalise same sex marriage we can have a proper wedding with all our family and friends.”

Phil pulls Dan in close to him, he places a gentle kiss to his lips and leans their foreheads back together. Dan sighs, he knows they can’t get married yet and maybe he is just too drunk to think and in the morning he’ll realise how dumb all of this is. He loves Phil and Phil loves him, they don’t need to be married to show that.

2019 - Las Vegas

“It wasn’t the only time that I've thought about it” Dan says, he smiles. “Y’know marrying you.”

He takes Phil’s hand. Phil wonders if he’s going to ask him now, just how he had all those years ago, on a balcony just like this. They’re ready now. If Dan asks, he knows what he’ll say.

“I wanted to ask you in 2014, after they legalised same-sex marriage in the UK, but i didnt” Dan looks down at the ground “and then i almost asked you in 2015 when we went to Japan and last year during the tour”

There’s a sad look in Dan’s eyes. The thought of all his failed attempts and harsh words in his head telling him he shouldn’t weighed him down. There were so many times he could have asked...

2014 - London

Dan sits in the usual place on the sofa, his laptop on his lap, a cup of coffee on the arm rest. Phil’s in his bedroom (well his bedroom set) filming a video. Dan’s not sure what it’s about but he knows when it comes to editing Phil will make him watch it and give opinions. Dan’s scrolling through tumblr when he sees it:

GUYS!!! The UK just legalised same-sex marriage!!

Congrats to all the gays in the uk who can get married now!

Gay Marriage has become legal in the UK glad to see more countries getting with the times!

Dan immediately turns on the TV to BBC News, there’s a reporter talking about how historic this is for the country.

“Phil come here!” Dan shouts

“I’m trying to film, Dan!” He shouts back

“I don’t care! Come here!” Dan’s attention is still on the TV

Phil comes into the room, Dan doesn’t look at him. He just points towards the TV. Phil doesn’t say a word, he just sits down next to Dan, a huge smile on his face. The reporter is talking to a couple now, they’re saying how they were getting married in a few weeks and it was likely they would be the first gay couple to get married, not a civil partnership but actually married! They were going to have the same rights as a straight couple. Dan looks over at Phil finally, his eyes are glued to the TV.

Dan wants to get up right now, and ask Phil the question, he’s been thinking about it for a while now, but knowing they could actually get married in a legal sense, he wants that. He can’t do it now though. He wants to do it properly, he wants to ask Kath and Nigel for their permission, he needs to get a ring, he… he needs to come out. He needs to come to terms with being… gay. It’s a word that he hates, he hates describing himself as that, he doesn’t want to be that and asking Phil to marry him… That’s pretty gay… so he pushes the thought of marriage out of his mind, again. He hates that he feels this way. He loves Phil and he doesn’t understand why his brain says it’s okay to be with Phil but it’s not okay to say he’s gay? He tells himself it’s different, Phil is his best friend, but it’s more than that. He doesn’t even think the term ‘romantically involved’ fits what he and Phil are. They’re Dan and Phil, soulmates, companions, partners for life. What he and Phil have, it’s special, it’s real, it’s just them. They don’t need to be married to be committed to each other, and they don’t need to world to know what they are either.

He tells himself they don’t need to get married over and over again, that he doesn’t want that… he’s lying.

2015 - Tokyo

Yesterday was all about filming their day in the life video but today Dan had other plans. Phil was in the shower and Dan was looking through his own suitcase, he pulls out a roll of socks and unravels them to reveal a box, he looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s alone and then opens the box up. He looks at the ring inside. He’d bought it a few weeks ago in London, hid it in so many different places and then somehow managed to get it to another country without Phil finding it. Dan had told Phil they were going to a park called Koishikawa Korakuen so he could take photos. It was a beautiful place and the perfect place to propose, he’d seen all these pictures of the beautiful gardens on instagram and he knew that this was the place, Japan was such a special place for the both of them and he knew how perfect it would be if they were to get engaged here. The shower turns off and Dan shoves the box into his jacket pocket. He thinks he’s ready this time.

The park is beautiful and Dan now has to decide where he wants to actually do the proposal, he’s not even sure what he wants to say yet. They walk around for an hour just taking photos and talking and then Dan sees the perfect spot, it’s a small stone path surrounded by trees and a pond. Dan takes a deep breath.

“Lets go over here” Dan says already walking ahead of Phil.

Phil follows until they stop in the middle of the path, they’re facing each other. Dan looks into Phil’s eyes, he loves Phil’s eyes, they’re a beautiful shade of Blue mixed with green and yellow, the best eyes i’ve ever seen.

“Phil I-”

“Oh my God!” A voice squeals from behind them “Dan and Phil!?”

Dan turns around, he wants to be annoyed but the voice belongs to a young fan who obviously has no idea she’s ruining a big moment. She looks around 15, from her accent he assumes she’s American.

“It’s really you, oh my God, I watch all your videos like all the time, i love you guys!”

Phil steps forward, he has a huge smile. Dan’s confused for a moment and then remembers Phil has no idea a moment was ruined either. Phil starts talking to the girl. Dan puts his hand in his pocket and holds the ring box. This is a sign, he knows it. It’s another thing getting in the way of his happiness. He should be used to it by now, but it really fucking hurts. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to do this. He should just return the ring and forget this ever happened before…Phil’s voice snaps him away from his thoughts

“Dan, you have the longest arm you take the selfie” He says.

Dan smiles and takes the girls phone, he hopes he doesn’t look like he’s faking it. He’s not in the mood to read comments pointing out his face when the girl inevitably posts the photo all over social media.

Dan knows there’s still time this trip to propose, but now all he can think of is how if that fan had come a few moments later she would have seen the proposal and then it would be everywhere, he realises once again that he’s not ready for the world to know. He’s having a panic attack now but Phil is still talking to the fan.

“Phil?” Dan asks catching Phil’s attention “Remember we’re meeting some friends in 20 minutes”

It’s a lie, but he can’t stand here any longer, he doesn’t want the fan to think he’s an asshole so lying is easier than just leaving. Phil understands what Dan means, whenever either of them think they’re having some kind of anxiety attack in public they always use the same excuse, like a code.

“Oh, you’re busy, of course. I’m sorry for bothering you” The girl is too cheerful, thankfully she doesn’t realise they’re trying to get rid of her.

Dan returns the ring a few days after they get home. The lady in the store asks why. He could lie and say it didn’t fit but he doesn’t.

“It wasn’t the right time” He sighs “not sure it ever will be.”

The lady gives him a sad look and that she’s sorry that it didn’t work out.

Dan cries in the Taxi back to their apartment, He’s sorry too.

2018 - London

Dan sits in bed. He stares intently at his laptop screen. it’s 3am, Phil is asleep next to him, he’s facing away from Dan.

You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer!

He reads the last lines in his word document over and over, everything is suddenly feeling like it’s falling into place. It took him 27 years to get to a point of acceptance, a place where he’s finally comfortable being queer… Gay. He’s gay. He remembers how over the last few years he’s become more comfortable with his sexuality, he stopped trying to hide as much and he knows the audience picked up on it. He scrolls back to the top of his script, he wants to get up now and film it and put it out but he knows he can’t right now, but this time it’s not because he’s scared. He and Phil are about to start a huge tour. Coming out is going to change everything but they can’t have any distractions now. The tour is big and important, this can wait.

Phil turns over, Dan looks over at him as his eyes open.

“You’re still awake?” He mumbles

“I finished it” Dan says, turning the screen slightly “over 25 pages”

Phil sits up and grabs his glasses from the bedside table.

“Can i read it?” He asks leaning his head against Dan’s shoulder.

“Not the whole thing, there’s one part I want you to hear though” Dan turns his head, his eyes meeting Phil’s. “If you don’t want me to say it, I'll take it out

Dan scrolls about half way through, Phil sees his name written within a paragraph.Dan begins to read.

“Obviously we were more than friends, but it was more than just romantic. This is someone who genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child I actually felt safe” Dan pauses to look at Phil, he doesn’t read the next part off the screen, he tells Phil from memory “We are real best friends. Companions through life. Actual soulmates.”

Phil doesn’t say anything, he places his hand gently on Dan’s cheek and kisses him softly. Dan knows this is Phil’s way of saying yes, he can include this in the video. Dan puts his laptop down.

“I love you, so much, Phil”

“I love you, Dan, so so much”

They fall asleep wrapped up in each other, with smiles on their faces. Dan’s ready now. Next time he asks Phil to marry him, he knows he’s actually going to go through with it.

2019 - Las Vegas

Dan takes a deep breath. It’s now or never, he knows that. He’s thought about this moment for almost 7 years now. He doesn’t have a ring or a plan but he knows that right now on this balcony is where he’s going to ask Phil to marry him.

“I’ve wanted to ask you this for like, 7 years” He begins “but every time I tried to ask I chickened out because I wasn’t ready to admit who I really was. Over the last 2 years I’ve started to feel more comfortable with other people knowing about me, i’ve always been comfortable around you, but other people knowing has always been a huge deal. Um…”

Dan wipes a tear away from his eye. He looks Phil in the eyes. Phil is smiling at him.

“You are the love of my life” He continues “and now that everything's out in the open and we don’t have to hide anymore, I know I’m finally ready for this, there’s no voice in the back of my head telling me no. So…”

Dan gets down on one knee and takes Phil’s hands.

“Phil Lester” He takes a deep breath “Will you marry me?”

He sees the tears in Phil’s eyes. Phil nods.

“Of course I will, Dan”

Dan jumps up and pulls Phil into a tight hug. They kiss for a while before Dan pulls away, laughing.

“This is ridiculous, we just got engaged on a balcony in Vegas while in our pajamas, I don’t even have ring for you”

Phil starts to laugh too. “This is perfect, this is the most us proposal you could have ever done, we can go out in the afternoon and get a ring”

“Or… we could go out in the afternoon and just get married?”

“We could.”

4:00PM Thurs 18 Jul

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danielhowell has shared a post

It’s a photo of 2 hands, one belonging to Dan and the other Phil. They have wedding bands on their fingers. The caption reads: AcTuAl SoULmATeS @ AmazingPhil

4:05PM Thurs 18 Jul

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AmazingPhill has shared a post

It’s a 2 photos, the first being a poor quality screenshot from the first Phil is not on fire, the second photo is of Phil kissing Dan on the cheek, Dan is holding his hand up to show off the wedding ring on his finger.

#Phanfiction #Phan #idk what to tag this lmao #this is my first dnp fanfic #also the first fic ive written in like 7 #years #so like be nice thanks

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swissmissficrecs · 5 years

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Other people’s favorites 2018 - Long fics

As I was assembling everyone's picks for their favorites from 2018 that didn't end up on my own Best of 2018 list, the post was getting longer and longer so I decided to split it between long fics (over 10K) and short ones. I also had to disqualify some that were mentioned as they actually completed posting prior to 2018 or were in another fandom. Sorry if it wasn't clear, this was only for Sherlock Holmes fics. All of these are BBC verse. I hope this helps you discover something amazing!

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (55K, E, Johnlock) Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab.

A Walk in the Woods by Ginger_Cat (16K, E, Johnlock) After a series of traumatic events, John has left London in self-imposed isolation. Permanently. There is, of course, one man who might succeed in bringing him home.

All We Do Is Fall by vitruvianwatson (16K, T, Johnlock) There's obviously a very good reason for Sherlock to take over John's bed in the middle of the night. It's absolutely not just because Sherlock is a drama queen, no siree, not at all.

Beauty from Ashes by BakerTumblings (209K, M, Johnlock) John Watson, MD, is a freelance Medical Coordinator, who has been hired by British Government leader Mycroft Holmes to work miracles on behalf of his brother, who is suffering from terrible sequelae of addiction, failure to thrive, and unsuccessful rehab stints. Cue the headstrong encounters!

Chaperones by MissDavis (34K, T, Johnlock) Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Enigma by khorazir (289K, M, Johnlock) It’s the autumn of 1941, war is raging in Europe, German U-boats are raiding Allied convoys in the Atlantic, the Luftwaffe is bombing English cities, and the cryptographers at Bletchley Park are working feverishly to decode their enemies' encrypted communications. One should consider this challenge and distraction enough for capricious codebreaker Sherlock Holmes. But the true enigmas are yet waiting to be deciphered: an unbreakable code, a strange murder, and the arrival of Surgeon Captain John H. Watson of the Royal Navy.

Extricate - An Ex Files Special by 7PercentSolution (231K, E, Viclock) When Sherlock met Victor, and what happened next. A backstory that explains why caring truly may not be an advantage. This follows ACD canon and ignores BBC season 4, allowing the two of them to meet while at University.

Fragile by Tor_Raptor (160K, T, Gen) Sherlock gets sick, not 'he'll recover in a few days' sick, but hospitalised for a long time sick. His friends are all there to help him, but he is Sherlock, he doesn't want or need their help.

Give It Welcome by Glenmore (13K, T, Johnlock) Rosie Watson is commissioned to write a story about memories of her favourite gifts.

Heart's Desire by 88thParallel (20K, G, Johnlock, Jolto) Reeling after a tragic loss, John Watson is surprised when he finds love again. After a lifetime of illness, Sherlock Holmes finally feels his heart truly beat for another. But as they move toward something more serious, an unbelievable truth is revealed that threatens to break both their hearts for good.

Hello You by weeesi (20K, T, Johnlock) John kind of can’t believe he’s doing this and kind of can’t imagine doing anything else. He dips his head, heart pounding.

Hiraeth by BiancaAparo (281K, M, Johnlock, Warstan, Mollstrade, Sherlock/OFC) Sherlock scowled, “This is the thanks I receive for coming to fetch you.” “I never asked you to come get me!” Violet shouted as he slammed the bedroom door...

Keep Your Eyes Fixed on Me by elldotsee (26K, M, Johnlock) Nothing to theorize here- Sherlock jumped, and all The Queen's horses might not be able to put him together again. Sherlock was gravely injured when he hit the pavement. John is by his side, but things are a bit not good for both of them.

Licence to Kiss by fellshish (13K, T, Johnlock) Sherlock loves John, and John loves... James Bond. He only made Sherlock watch every single film. Tedious. And now John's birthday is coming up. Sherlock can't tell him how he feels, but he can organise an amazing gift: John's very own spy adventure. Sherlock begs Mycroft for a real case with some extra gadgets. And perhaps some actors pretending to be criminals. What could possibly go wrong?

Rewind by All_I_need (87K, E, Johnlock and Warstan) About a month before John's wedding, he and Sherlock embark on one last case together: a murder at a remote hotel in the middle of nowhere. A lot can happen in a week. And a lot doesn't. But what if ...?

Sherlock Holmes, undercover lover by fellshish (51K, E, Johnlock) When the celebrity bachelor on a dating show begins receiving death threats, Sherlock goes undercover as a contestant to try and solve the puzzle before it's too late. Problem: he doesn't know how to seduce people. Who better than John 'three continents' Watson to provide seduction tips? It's not gay if you're helping out a friend.

Signs Following by Vulgarweed (24K, E, Johnlock) 1976. Bone Fiddle-verse; Appalachian AU. A couple years into their relationship, John and Sherlock are cozily setting up for spring with Mrs. Hudson's expert guidance when a distraught young woman appeals to them for help and sends them on one of their strangest cases yet - in order to solve one murder and prevent another, they must tangle with a sinister preacher and enter the much-sensationalized, little-understood world of Pentecostal Holiness believers who strictly observe Mark 16: 17-18.

The Darkness Within, So Close by shiplocks_of_love (42K, T, Gen) Alec Hardy and Ellie Miller deal with a new string of murders in Broadchurch. Help comes from an unlikely place as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson travel to West Dorset. But when the new crimes open old wounds and unearth the ghost of Moriarty, it becomes clear the game is not over yet.

The Dead Detective by DiscordantWords (47K, M, Johnlock) John Watson has spent the last three years of his life simply going through the motions. A chance encounter with a man claiming to be a stranded spy changes everything.

The Real Great Perfumers by shelleysprometheus (45K, E, Johnlock) The case, this case. This extraordinary, fascinating, scintillating case. A house. Designed entirely by its eccentric owner, built by no less than five hundred expert tradesmen in the heart of Marrakesh. A house that had, seemingly not only driven its owner out, but also to his quite unpleasant death. And a perfumer, a chemist no less, the very thought of the secrets that house could reveal, would reveal was irresistible. Sherlock had to have this case ... and it seems, he also had to have John!

The Subscription by delightful_fear (25K, E, Johnlock) John is back in the UK, but he's stuck in a bit of a rut. Some friends get him a subscription to add some excitement back into his life...

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (20K, E, Johnlock) Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

#rec list #other people's recs

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abbcdailynews · 4 years

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That will be the Most readily useful International TV System - Al Jazeera, BBC, CNBC Earth, Or CNN Global

The BBC offer an RSS give with Firefox so you can always get probably the most updated news without examining their homepage. I believe it is of good use simply to see what's going on in the world since it's hard to get the TV on what you would like with household in the house. I do not actually follow politics that much but I normally have an opinion of all things. Frequently, I just visit the Sports or Engineering area because with most media, nothing essential generally happens. When was the last time YOU heard about chicken flu in popular news?

More about the site then... On the left you've a small image of the planet split up into different sections. Click on one of these simple sections to go to a focused site for that the main globe. There you will discover applicable media about this region ranging from information to sports and whatever else they could deem newsworthy. They supply pictures and sometimes movie of the big event which may be pretty cool to watch. Like the among the short-term dams at the Three Gorges Dam in China being supplied up.

That type of provides me onto my next point. The BBC includes a specific page to each country on this here planet. Because we are not discussing China, let us set their's there anyway. And voila. Today as you can see, they give you the country's national anthem, an occasion distinct their record, some related hyperlinks, features... Basically, anything else you can need if you are only performing some standard research on a country.bbc-daily-news.com

It was charged while the writing sensation of 2007 and just like the fireworks of the 4th September or the greatest spell of a scar faced wizard it took the headlines. Depends upon gasped at the final pages of Deathly Hallows and number you could claim these were disappointed. JK Rowling had undoubtedly used it again. People had tried to guess the plot but not a single blogger seemed to obtain everything right. Some were really near but the others missed the mark. One of many greatest writers of illusion fiction had performed the Houdini.

Within hours of the distribution of Deathly Hallows, BBC Media in the UK introduced on the web that they'd discovered the successor to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Voldermort. Now as we shut the pages of the final chapter on the Potter saga, one book that is not also published however is apparently quietly moving itself ahead as a contender for the concept of'Hotter than Potter.'

Since the distribution of Shadowmancer in 2004 in the USA and their rise to the top of the New York Times list, GP Taylor has tucked from the radar of the American book scene. Penguin Putnam printed two further publications, Wormwood got to the dizzy heights of #2 on the charts but Taylor's 3rd guide Tersias the Oracle tucked into shops without the campaign whatsoever. It absolutely was as though Putnam just put it on the market as cheaply as you are able to with no description why.

Many of his supporters did not even know the book was published. Adhering to a death risk, Taylor refused to tour in the USA and there have been rumors in the English press he was sad with the way his books had been launched in the US. All in all it served to keep Taylor beneath the radar. Starved of promotion, readers were hard pressed to get the sequels to Shadowmancer and with little action from Common Pictures on the script of the guide Taylor faded completely. He's on report in saying he believed he could be opportunity useless in Books of Question in New York at a signing.

It was only when evidence copies of his newest novel Mariah Mundi and The Midas Box begun to rotate on eBay that folks again began to take discover of the quiet British author. Potter fans hungry for another book to load the emptiness of Deathly Hallows started initially to rapidly blog concerning the subject before they had actually study it. News was sketchy. Taylor's own site had the book outlined as Mariah Mundi and the Ghost of the Prince Regent, but the name was transformed at the final second before the evidence copies were published.

Now it would seem that every one needs to get your hands on a evidence of the book. One New York dealer has already established countless enquires presently and shops in the UK are taking sophisticated purchases therefore customers may protected first editions. Buddyhollywood.com said, "the formula will there be, tried and tested. Young hero, woman sidekick, wicked villain, perilous plan and hurt in the tail ending. Nothing unusual. In the event that you read Tolkien, Lewis and Rowling the exact same units are in use. But like Harry Potter there is anything wonderful in regards to the boy, Mariah Mundi.

Mundi has missing his parents and it is not known if they are dead. He visited a boarding college in London, from where he was sent at age fifteen to perform in a large and strange hotel in the north of England. All fish out of water material with lots of scary goings to keep you turning the pages.

With lots of'whodunit'placed in (there is a monster at large and an odd field that has the energy to turn daily items to gold and a secret society called The Bureau of Antiquities) that guide includes the large history of CS Lewis and the plot of an Indiana Jones movie. Probably why Hollywood is queuing to have their hands on the rights for the book."

BBC News said on the day of the launch of Deathly Hallows that, "when Harry Potter weighs up his wizard's cloak, booksellers will undoubtedly be trying to GP Taylor's fall discharge, Mariah Mundi - The Midas Box, to help keep the bucks tills ringing."

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septic84 · 5 years

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Eschew The Chew

“Phil, wake the fuck up!” I jerked up fast, feeling my stomach lurch.

“What the hell, Dan?”

“We need to pack and go, now!”

“Go where?” Dan wasn’t playing a joke on me; I could tell by his demeanor that he was scared. “Dan, calm down, what’s going on?”

“It’s all over the BBC, Phil!” He said, pulling a travel bag out of the closet. “It’s like some virus,”

A03

I had now fully sat up, if Dan had not have been so scared, I would have laughed at how animated he was. I grabbed my glasses and placed them on my face. “Virus?”

“Yes, it’s making people cannibalistic.”

“Dan, are you intoxicated?”

“Fuck off!” Dan was now shoving random pieces of clothing into the bag. “Just look at your fucking phone, okay?”

So, I did, but nothing would load, not on Wifi, not on data. “there’s nothing Dan, I can’t get anything to load.”

“Shit,” Dan said, “That means it’s getting worse.” I walked into the lounge where Dan had the TV on, we hardly watched anything on cable.

“Started in the northern parts of Ireland and is spreading rapidly. Daily curfews and quarantine zones are now going into effect in all of Ireland and are expected to affect the UK later tomorrow.”

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

“You see!” Dan demanded, “What I believe to be one of or the last Plane to Florida is leaving in three hours and we need to be on it. It may be our only chance.”

“Hold on,” I took a deep breath. “Dan, we are talking about leaving country. We are going to leave our families here?”

Dan took a deep breath, “Phil, we are going to have to trust that they can take care of themselves.”

I was stood frozen, I couldn’t move.

“Phil!” Dan screamed, “I am not fucking kidding. We need to move!” I went back to our room, placing various things in my travel bag. How do you know what to pack for the apocalypse? After I had packed clothes, some irreplaceable keepsakes, and my pillow, I took another bag to the kitchen and filled it with nonperishable food items. That was smart right? If the disaster movies taught me anything, it was that food becomes scares quickly in these types of scenarios.

Dan walked into the room, “Okay, I have packed everything in the bathroom.” He looked at me and nodded approvingly. “Oh, good idea. I hope they don’t limit our baggage.”

Once we arrived at the airport it was sheer chaos; people were screaming, crying or just staring into nothing. “Dan,” I whispered, “What if we don’t get out?”

“We will,” was all Dan said. He was surprisingly calm. We saw armed officials with medical staff examining people. They were making their way throughout the lines and were currently examining the family next to us. I started to panic.

“Deep breaths, Phil. Don’t draw too much attention to us, okay?”

“Right,” I said

“Names?”

“Daniel Howell,”

“Phil Lester.”

“Country and city of origin?”

“United Kingdom, London.”

“Both of you?”

I nodded.

After the doctor looked into both of our eyes, then mouths, he took each of our temperatures. “They’re good.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Since Dan and I were cleared to fly, one of the armed guards led us directly to the plane. There seemed to be limited staff and the normal “check your bags” policy seemed out the window. Dan and I had all of our bags with us in the cabin of the plane, on our legs.

“See, we’re fine,” Dan said when we had gotten arranged.

“Are we?” I asked, hesitantly.

“Don’t Phil, not now,” Dan warned. Looking closer at him, I now noticed the fear on his face. I could tell he was doing everything in his power to keep moving forward, to keep going. I took his hand and squeezed it, not releasing it when I had finished. He gave me a tight-lipped smile.

The plane took off a short time later; it was eerily quiet. There were no conversations and only the occasional wail from one of the two babies that were on board. Glancing around I noticed everyone either had blank stares or panic on their faces, there was no in-between.

“Where are we going when we land?”

“I have booked a hotel for at least a week in Orlando.”

“Okay, then what?”

“I don’t know Phil, I got us out. Right now, that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you,” I stayed quiet for the rest of the flight. I wondered how many people in the UK had already been infected, how quickly had is spread and if it had reached London. I then wondered how much time we had running to Florida before it got there.

The plane had touched down about 10:00 pm local time. At the Orlando airport, there were also many armed guards and more medical personnel at the gates, screening people before they were allowed to enter. We had passed again, but this exam was more in-depth. They asked about medical issues, medicines we were taking and the last time we had had a physical. They went through all of the bags of the passengers and gave them cards that showed they had been cleared medically and their bags had been searched.

When we were in the hotel room Dan looked as if he were about to break. “I’m going to go take a shower,” he didn’t wait for my response, but I still muttered “Okay.” As soon as the water had been running for about 5 minutes, I heard Dan start to sob. I wanted nothing more to comfort him, but he clearly needed to be alone. Using the hotel phone, I called my parents and brother, leaving them messages in case they were able to get them. I hoped they were okay. When Dan came out he looked as if he hadn’t slept for days.

“I called my parents and Martyn and left them messages in case they can get them at some point, you should do the same. I am going to shower now.”

“Okay,”

The bathroom was steamy and smelled like Dan, this brought me a little comfort. I wiped the fog off of the mirror and stared at my face. I didn’t look that bad, maybe a little tired. I turned on the shower and stood under the stream of water, watching it swirl down the drain. I wondered why I wasn’t crying now, why wasn’t I as upset as Dan? I didn’t feel much of anything and I figured I must have been in shock. I washed and got out feeling like I was in slow motion; as if time had been thickened by honey and I couldn't move properly.

When I went back out to Dan, he had the news on. As he predicted, all flights out of Ireland and the UK had been grounded. Also, the same had happened in The Netherlands, Belgium, and France; no planes were allowed in or out. The number of infected people had grown increasingly, hour by hour. The news was repeating clips of people that were caught on security cameras who were infected. Some were just aimlessly walking, staring blankly ahead. Others were violent, going after and attacking anyone who was not behaving as they were. It was horrific to watch, I was numb.

“They are literally fucking Zombies,” Dan breathed out.

I did not have the words to respond to that. I sat next to him watching video after video of the same scene. The further advanced the virus progressed, the more violent and dangerous they became. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought we were watching a movie, but this was real life. Dan silently grasped my hand as we watched what appeared to be the fall and demise of humanity.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, surprising me.

“Are you being serious right now?” I asked, motioning to the TV.

“I,” I watched his head fall in dismay. “I don’t know what to do, Phil. I don’t think we are ever going back to London.”

“You don’t know that,” I said, indignantly.

“Phil,” He said softly, “Look at them. Even if they can cure these people, they are destroying everything. Without humans, healthy working humans, the city will collapse.”

“So, what are we going to do then, Dan? Live here? Look for a house? Do we go elsewhere? What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

“I don’t either.”

“This is really happening isn’t it?”

“Yes. It is.” He yawned.

“We should sleep, it’s not like staying awake is going to help us right now, watching this over and over won’t either.” I turned off the TV.

“I don’t know if I can sleep,”

“Then we should lay down and at least rest.” We both got settled and started by laying far away from each other, but gradually Dan was inching closer to me. I pulled him onto my chest, kissing the top of his head. “Rest, love.”

“Phil, I’m scared.”

“I know. Rest.” After a while, Dan’s body stilled. Knowing he was asleep helped me to relax and with his breathing as my guide, I drifted off.

We woke up around noon the next day, we didn't speak. We sat on separate beds, both trapped in our heads trying to process the unthinkable.

“Should we turn on the TV?” I asked.

“No,” He said, “Not just yet.”

“Okay.” There was still Wifi in the hotel; Dan started one of his playlists and we sat together, listening to relaxing instrumental melodies that helped to somewhat put my mind at ease.

“I'm not sure what I am allowed to say,”

“Well, talk to me about anything other than what’s going on.”

“Ah,” I came up with nothing.

“Yeah, I know.” He said shaking his head.

“I didn’t pack sun cream.”

He smirked. “Lucky for you, I packed the bathroom and there was some in there.”

"That is lucky for my translucent skin, thank you. We should eat something.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I don’t feel hungry, but I am sure I am.”

We decided to walk down to a nearby café, not going too far from the hotel. As we picked at our sandwiches, I started to watch and listen to the other patrons.

“It’s spread into Spain already,” someone said. “It’s spreading so fast and no one knows how to stop it. I am afraid it’s only a matter of time before,”

“Phil, don’t eavesdrop,” Dan looked at me. “Hey, we should go swimming.”

“You want to go to the beach?”

“Yeah, why not?” He opened his backpack, showing me the towels and sun cream.

“Okay, yeah.” I smiled at Dan as we left money at the table. On our way out I overheard the same person say. “We are all screwed.” I couldn’t help but agree with them. It seemed to be the end of the world.

On the beach Dan and I were sat on our towels, watching the waves. I had to admit, it was easy to get lost in them and forget why we were actually here. I wondered how many more moments like this I would have with Dan. Would this be the last? I looked at the way the sun was hitting his face, he was truly beautiful.

“Let’s swim.”

I smiled at him, “Yes, let’s.” I wanted to make sure whatever time we did have left was spent doing things that made us happy. As we made our way out into deeper waters, Dan came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He started to kiss my neck. It was so public; it wasn’t something I was used to.

“The ocean and the sun make your skin glisten a lovely shade.” He murmured against my neck. He continued to kiss my neck, softly starting to suck at the flesh. “So, you wanna?” he whispered as he trailed his hand down my side.

“Here?” I whispered harshly, “Dan, the world is ending and it’s three pm, we are at a public beach .”

“I know, but no one can see us.” I was hesitant, but remembering my earlier vow to make sure the time we had left was memorable, I agreed. So that is how at three pm, in the ocean during the apocalypse Dan and I were having sex. “I love you so much, Phil.”

“I love you too, Dan. You mean so much to me.”

“Please don’t stop, I am so close,”

“Me too,” I moaned. When I felt a breeze I noticed that somehow, we were not in deep water anymore, not at all. The water was brushing against us about knee level. Anyone who looked our way would be able to tell what we were doing and could see all of Dan. “Dan,” I slowed down, “We’re in the shallow, people can see!”

“Good,” He growled, "I want them to see.” My whole body shuddered, I was moving my hips faster, spilling inside of him.

“Yes, Phil, I’m cuming.” Dan moaned low and quiet as he found his release. When he had stopped panting so heavily, I slowly moved us back to the deeper water. “Holy shit Phil, that was so hot.”

“End of the world brings out your kinks, does it? I see you were already prepped.”

“Well, It could be now or never so, a guy needs to plan ahead.”

“And if it ends up on the internet?”

“Well, then we will be giving them one hell of a finale, won’t we?”

I laughed pulling him close to me, kissing his lips. He tasted of salt. Looking deeply into his eyes, I brushed a curl off of his forehead, suddenly his brow knit together.

“Phil, promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“If I get infected, leave me.”

“What?”

"We both know it will be me that will get infected, of course, it will."

"Dan,"

“Don’t stay with me and die. Please.

“We’re not going to talk like this.” I said, “We are going to be fine.”

“You can’t possibly know that, Phil.” He said softly.

“I can and I do. I’m done swimming now; I need to shower.” With that, I started to make my way back to the shore. I refused to listen to that, I just couldn’t. With Dan in tow, we made our way back to the hotel. We did not speak, but Dan did bump his shoulder into mine. It was our silent signal that we were good.

“We should turn the telly on now,” I said after we had both showered. “As awful as it is, we should know what’s going on.”

Dan sighed, “At least we had a nice day.” Grabbing the remote, he turned on the news. It was worse than we could have thought. They now had blocked off most of western Europe. So many countries were infected now, it was only a matter of time before it made its way to America.

“How does it spread? Where did it come from?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

“I have no fucking clue, it seems to have started in Ireland, but who knows what started it.” Dan sighed. “We have to figure out what we are going to do, Phil.”

“How? We are Youtubers, we make videos, what would it be? “How to survive Zombies” tag?”

“Actually,” “DAN! I am being serious.

“Jesus Phil, how should I know? It’s not like I have a contingency plan for the living dead, do I?"

“Dan I’m,” A knock at the door cut me off midsentence.

Dan looked at me and got up to answer it. “Tom?”

“Oh, thank Christ, you’re still here. I’m glad to see you, mate.” He invited himself in. “Hey, Phil,”

“Hi, Tom. Glad to see you’re okay.” I said, confused as to why he was here.

“Well, I’m not sick physically, so there’s that.” He ran his hand through his hair. “A literal Zombie apocalypse, bloody hell.”

“How are you here, Tom?”

“I hoped that you both had gotten on one of the planes to Florida, I checked and you had. Then I tracked you here, was able to get your hotel information and here I am.”

“Wait,” Dan said, “what do you mean you tracked us here?”

“Well, I hacked into some systems, but yeah, I found you.”

“How?” I asked.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, boys.” He said.

“Right, so what’s the plan then, Tom?”

“Go north, into the woods.”

“Are you mad? Into the woods, he says. What do you know about the woods, Tom? You’ll get eaten by wild animals. What do you know about survival?”

“You really think that I would be unarmed in a Zombie apocalypse?”

“Okay, but why are you here? Why did you come to find us specifically?"

Ah,” he rubbed his neck. “I figured you may need help.” He sat down. “I was already in the air when it crossed the border into the UK. I knew America would be the best bet. I lost my cell service, then I knew that it was bad. I am kind of a doomsday nerd, so I have planned for something like this."

"You think you know a guy, "Tomska, Youtuber and a doomsday aficionado." Dan sighed.

“You want us to go with you?” I questioned.

“Staying here is a death sentence. “

“What are you on about?”

“I am sure it’s here already, Phil. I am sure someone, perhaps even many people are infected.”

“How? There are medical screenings.”

“Yeah, but what are they even screening for? A fever? No one knows how this started. It is spreading too quickly to do any early-stage testing. They have no idea what it is. They can’t tell if a fever is even a symptom. How could they know?” He paused. “Look, lads, this thing is unpredictable and it’s quick. If you are in a city that is infected, the chances that you will get away unscathed are slim to none.”

“How do we know you’re not infected, then?” Dan asked.

“How do we know either of you isn’t infected?”

I sighed. “We don’t.”

“No, we don’t, however with how fast it develops, I think we would have been starting to feel off by now. Then again, I have no idea. Maybe it’s just poof, Zombie.”

“Right, so what do we do?”

“We head north,” He said.

“How do you even know where to go? How familiar are you with America?”

“Oh, I know enough.”

“Where north?”

“Just north, for now.”

“This is all so fucked,” Dan said, looking at me. “What do we know about survival?”

“Not much,” I admitted.

“As I said, I thought you may need my help.” Tom looked at the TV. “We aren’t going home lads, soon there will be no home left.”

“What does that mean?”

“They are going to burn it, Dan.”

“The entire country? What? Why?” I was confused.

“Phil, they are trying to save humanity. They have already burned most of Ireland.”

“Who is “they?”

“I don’t know, citizens? Government? I don’t know. All I know is that it is what is in store for our homeland too. It’s been three days and it’s ramping up to take over all of Europe.”

“Oh my god,” I muttered.

“We want to survive, right?”

Dan and I both nodded.

“Good, pack your things, we need to get petrol for the car, supplies and we will leave.”

“Right now?”

“The longer we stay here, the less likely we will make it out alive.”

“Wait, can you even drive in America?” I asked.

“I’ll manage just fine." Dan and I exchanged looks. “Listen, it’s not like we are here to sightsee, we are running for our lives. I’ll be fine driving.”

The Black SUV was packed to the gills with supplies. We were both nervous about Tom driving in America, let alone in a huge SUV, but we didn’t know what else to do. Tom seemed to have his wits about him and he had a plan, that was more than we had. Tom’s gun occupied the front seat as Dan and I sat in the next seats back. I figured that he probably had more than one, but I didn’t ask. As much as guns made me nervous, in the circumstance we were in, it seemed like a good idea that someone had them and knew how to shoot; at least if the movies were any indication.

“I’ve got it mapped out; we will be sticking to the back roads to avoid the county border health checks.”

“We aren’t sick though,” Dan said.

“Mate, we are British, they will automatically assume that we are infected.”

“I don’t know that that’s true,” I said.

“It is. People are scared.”

“That’s xenophobic,” I muttered

“None of that matters, right now Phil. Even though the American media has given them a false sense of security by closing the borders, people are still fucking scared. How could they not be?”

“So, do you know exactly where we are going yet?” Dan asked.

“North,”

“You keep saying that,”

“You’ll know when we are there.” He looked at us in the rearview mirror, “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

I felt Dan grasp my hand, it was the slight comfort that I needed to be able to fall asleep. I was awoken an unknown time later to hushed voices.

“He’s very calm about this,” Dan said.

“I think he’s in shock Dan, no offense intended, but Phil’s a pretty happy go lucky guy. Something like this must take a much larger toll on his mental state. We are darker, more cynical. I mean, how many times have you been in an apocalypse together?”

“Fuck off, Tom.”

“I’m just saying, give the man some credit. He seems to be holding his own.”

“Right. Tom, I am still a little confused. Why did you look for us? Phil and I, I mean. You have been friends with us for years, but we have never really been good friends. I don’t mean to be rude and I am not ungrateful, I’m just wondering why you went to so much effort to find us.”

His voice dropped low, “I didn’t want to be alone.” He paused a moment. “I tried to find the others, too you know. The “YouTube” gang.”

“Well, who else did you find?”

“No one.” He said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Oh god.”

“I think the Brighton crew made it out, but I can’t be sure. I really hope they did.”

“Me too,” Dan said, somberly.

About 20 minutes had passed, I still had my eyes closed. I hadn’t even thought about our other friends, they could be dead, infected or just as lost as we were before Tom found us. Just like my family, just like Dan's. I still really couldn’t muster any emotion about it, but I knew I would be shattered if my emotions ever returned.

“We should stop and eat,” Tom said, breaking the quiet. “We’ll stop here, wake him up.”

Dan slowly rubbed my shoulder, but I could tell he knew I was awake. I faked waking up. “Hm?”

“Food time, Phily!” Tom said from the front seat.

I sat up and stretched. “Is it safe to stop?”

“We’re going to find out,” Tom responded, parking the SUV in front of the large windows. When we went in, he requested the table in front of those windows. Tom wanted to keep an eye on our lifeline, which currently was a vehicle full of our supplies.

“Glad you fellas are here and not over there,” The waitress said thoughtlessly as she handed us menus. I somewhat agreed with her, but the uncertainty of the health and safety of my family and friends had me on edge. “So, what’ll ya have?” I pointed at some sandwich; I wasn’t very hungry anyway. I guess I had been lost in my thoughts because Dan was softly nudging me.

“Food’s here.”

I shrugged, looking down at the food as if it were the enemy. My stomach lurched.

“You should try to eat something,” Dan said, softly.

“I don’t know if I can,”

Tom cocked his eyebrow at me, “You’re not feeling poorly, are you?”

I was, a little, but I said. “Not Physically.” I figured the unease in my stomach was fear or emotion-related. Maybe even both. Also, some could be contributed to the fact that we had been riding in a car for so long.

“You should try to eat,” Tom said, his voice harsher than before, almost as if I were to eat something it would prove to him that I wasn’t infected.

“Tom, back off. Phil gets travel sick; we have been in a moving car for hours.” I was thankful for Dan.

“Oh, right.” He looked at me. “Sorry.”

“When are you going to sleep?” I asked I wanted to take the attention off of myself.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to stop moving.”

“You still need to sleep,” Dan said, taking a drink of his coffee. “We’re sticking to back roads still, right? Then I can drive while you sleep for a bit.”

“Dan, are you sure?”

He shrugged, “It can’t be that hard, just the other side of the street, right?”

“Yeah, okay.” Tom conceded, “I could use a nap.” We had finished at the diner, after paying for our food and an uncomfortable and disgustingly wet handshake from the owner, we piled into the car. Dan and Tom had gotten out the door before me so they had avoided the grotesque gesture of appreciation. As I walked to them, I noticed my hand was stinging. I looked down to see a cut that the man’s sweaty palms had come into contact with; I cringed and desperately attempted to keep down the two bites of sandwich that I had taken.

“You okay?” Dan asked.

“Yeah,” I said wiping my hands on my pants. I didn't want to talk about it.

Tom pulled into a petrol station and filled up; he also bought many food items and drinks. He waved his credit card at us. “Might as well max the bastard, they can’t expect me to pay the bill when the world’s ending, can they?” He winked; Dan rolled his eyes. Tom drove us to the back roads so Dan could take over. He turned on the radio.

“Officials say outbreaks will be likely, but the CDC has assured AXI news that they will be able to maintain it, keeping casualty rates lower than other countries”

Tom scoffed, “Oh yeah.” he said sarcastically.

“Be as snarky as you want, but you had better hope they’re right,” Dan said.

Tom had pulled over for Dan to drive; but not before a quick insisted lesson on how to shoot a gun.

“Tom, I don’t want to know how to shoot a gun.”

“Tough, you need to. If something happens to me, you need to know how to protect yourself.

“I won’t shoot anyone, anyway.” He said, bitterly.

“You would if it saved him.” Tom pointed in my direction. I saw the inner struggle happening, it was written all over Dan’s face.

“Okay, show me.” He said, his voice wavering.

I had stopped paying attention at this point. I couldn’t handle the thoughts that the conversation had spurred on. It was too much. Watching Dan have to choose to kill someone to save me was a daydream I didn't want to indulge.

After about 20 minutes, they both got back into the SUV, and Dan started to drive. He surprisingly did pretty well. Tom and his gun (at least the one I knew of) were now in the back and I was next to Dan upfront. With Tom sleeping, I felt calmer.

“How are you doing? Dan asked, quietly.

“I’m not sure,” I was progressively starting to feel worse. I had a headache and was currently doing everything in my power not to vomit. Dan knew I was sure of it. I knew he hadn’t said anything because he didn’t want to draw too much attention to me; Tom was already suspicious. I wasn’t sure what lengths Tom would go to avoid infection. Even if I wasn’t infected, would Tom’s paranoia get the best of him?

“I’m not sure we are doing the right thing,” Dan said.

“I know, neither am I, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“I know.

It was starting to get dark and I could tell that Dan’s confidence in driving had drastically diminished. I saw a sign for a motel, lit up. “We should sleep,” I said, motioning to the sign.

“I doubt Tom would approve,” He said, but he was already slowing down.

“I don’t care,” I said looking at him. “Dan, I need to get out of this moving vehicle.”

Dan nodded, took the exit and pulled into the “Lazy side Inn.” He left me in the car with a sleeping Tom while he got the rooms.

“Wake up, Tom,” He said getting back into the car.

“What?”

"I have gotten us two rooms for the night. I need to sleep on an actual bed and Phil needs to be stationary for a while.” Tom sighed but didn’t protest. Dan handed him his room key as he unloaded our bags. He went directly to the shower as I sat on the bed observing our room. This was a questionable hotel, I was sure it was typically only used for one thing, but at least we weren't driving.

“What are you thinking about?” he said, scrubbing his hair with a towel.

“Nothing, really. I am just thankful to be still.”

He kissed the top of my head, “Go shower, you’ll feel even better.”

So, I did. The water felt fantastic and it was nice to change into clean clothes. When I came out, Dan had the Tv on.

“In addition, to the closure of the US border, the military has amped up the efforts, putting in a nationwide curfew. No one is to be outside after 10:00 Pm in your respected time zone. Fighter jets and military-grade vehicles will now be on constant patrol. This will remain in effect for an undetermined amount of time.”

“So, it starts,”

“Yeah,” Dan said softly. “It appears so.”

“I’m so,” I paused trying to find the words.

“So,” Dan prompted.

“I don’t even know, numb, I guess.”

“I’m sure a lot of people have that reaction,”

“I’m just having a hard time accepting this is reality.” I shook my head. “This is actually a Zombie apocalypse. I just don’t understand, how?”

Dan threw his arm around me, “We should sleep, I’m sure Tom will have us up early.”

“Probably,” I groaned.

Dan looked at me intently. “I know car rides make you sick, but you seem unwell otherwise,”

I looked at him, “I’m not sure.” I sighed. “Maybe you should just leave me here.”

“Fuck off, Phil. I am not leaving you.” "How is this any different than what you asked me in the ocean, Dan?" "Goodnight, Phil."

When I woke up the sunlight told me that it was probably late morning. Dan was still sleeping; I kissed his forehead softly so it didn’t wake him up. I looked out the window, everything seemed peaceful, calm, normal. If I didn’t know better, I would think we were on holiday and not running from a deadly virus. I guess we could look at it as a holiday, except we wouldn’t ever be going home. We didn't have a home left, from what we were told. My stomach felt better today and I was starting to feel hungry. I wondered if that was what happened in stressful situations; once you accept the chaos and fear, your emotional responses are muted and they stop having physical effects on you. I didn't know, but it seemed plausible.

“What are you looking at,” Dan’s sleep voice was one of my favorite sounds, I smiled.

“Birds, currently. I wonder if animals can be infected?” I asked, rhetorically.

Dan grunted and stretched, untangling himself from the blankets. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, hungry.”

“Good, that’s good, Phil.”

“Mm,” I hummed, noncommittedly.

“We should eat, I’m surprised that Tom hasn’t been banging on our door for ages. What time is it?”

I looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand, “11:30.” I frowned. “That’s a good point. Maybe we should check on him.

Dan hung his head, “Yeah, maybe.”

We got dressed and attempted to leave the room, but before we could I noticed an envelope on the floor.

I picked it up, retrieving the letter inside and read it out loud.

“I had to leave, I located some of the others. I have left you the car and half of the supplies, there are bullets and a gun in the glove box. DON’T GET RID OF IT. You need it and I want it back when we meet again. I left a map in the car, the route is highlighted and marked, I also made some marks for stopping places. We will all meet up at the circled area as soon as we can. Don’t waste too much time staying in one place. I have heard that it was confirmed to be in America now, so the further north we get as quickly as possible gives us the best chance. Be smart, don’t get caught up in things that don’t matter. God speed! (I’ve always wanted to write that in a letter.) -Tom”

I stared at the note stunned, I wasn’t sure that Dan and I could do this on our own.

“Well, I suppose we had better get moving then.”

I looked up at him, “How are you so calm about all of this?”

He shrugged, “This is pretty low shock value, all things considered.” He was calm, I was numb and I still couldn’t wrap my head around any of this. "We can eat in the car."

“Dan, the gun,”

“I can use it if I have to. Hopefully, It won’t come to that and I can give it back to Tom without shooting it.”

“Right,” I wasn’t sure Dan would shoot anyone, even if it was to protect me. “So, I guess we are leaving?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Dan’s driving wasn’t good back home, so here it was even worse. Despite that, I was giving him credit for how well he was doing. He had managed not to get stopped by the authorities and we had not been in a collision. That’s all that mattered, I supposed. The map was leading us far north, to Thunder Bay Canada, so following the map, we drove. We had driven for most of the remaining daylight. It was starting to become dark.

“We need petrol,” Dan said

“I will look for a place,”

“Great.” He rearranged. “I am so bloody bored. And sick of fucking driving.”

“I’m sorry.”

“S’not your fault. I just am sick of this nightmare. No internet, no sofa crease, no Netflix. Tom is gone and we truly are on our own. We have no idea how to get anywhere without this map, which is just fragile paper that can be destroyed at any moment. It's pretty much our lifeline at this point. If we lose it, we are screwed. I am not sure why we split up. In every movie known to man, splitting up ends badly. Yet here we are.” He glanced at me, he was waiting for me to reply.

“I’m not sure what to say,” I said honestly.

“Then don’t say anything, much like you have been since this started,” he huffed. "I'll just be alone in this worry, I guess."

“Dan,”

“Don’t say you’re sorry again.”

“Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, not exactly, but you’re acting strange and I’m bloody scared, Phil.”

“I’m,”

“Don’t. Just don’t”

We got petrol and drove for about another hour, tense silence as company. There was no light left in the sky now, it was fully dark.

“I need to sleep," I could hear the fatigue in his voice.

Holding the map close to the radio for light, I said “There’s a “rest stop” marked here."

“What does that even mean?”

“For lorries, I think.”

“Right, just tell me where to turn.”

We had parked in a quiet corner, under a tree, and dim amber light. The rear seats were folded down into a makeshift bed, I grabbed a bag that contained some of our food and set up two plates.

“Snacks for dinner,” I said, smiling slightly in the overhead cab light.

“No shit, Phil. You don’t see a diner, here do you? Don’t be stupid.” His voice was callous and mean.

“Dan, can you please stop being rude to me?” I had finally broken. The tears I had questioned the existence of that first day in Florida were now flowing down my face. “I know you’re scared and I haven’t been that supportive, but now,” I stopped and looked at him. “You may be the only one I have left. My family may be dead. I can’t deal with your cruelness or attitude right now. I am sorry, whatever I did or didn’t do to you. I am sorry. Just, please.”

“Phil,” Dan said softly, moving towards me, pulling me into a hug. “I’m sorry. I will do better. It’s not fair for me to expect you to process a certain way or in a certain amount of time. I’m just tired, yeah? I’ll do better. Once I sleep, it will be better. Please, don’t cry.” I sniffled, “Let’s eat, I’m sure we both could use some food.”

We had eaten and were getting ready to lay down to sleep. Dan had the gun back with us, though I was sure he was somewhat scared of it. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with it either, but I didn’t say anything.

‘I love you, Phil,”

“I love you too, Dan.”

Unfamiliar voices woke me up, harsh hushed whispers seeped in through the doors.

“Do you think anyone is in there?”

“Maybe they are asleep?”

“There isn’t anyone around, maybe we could,”

“I don’t want to do this,”

“Dan,” I whispered directly in his ear “Wake up.”

“Wha,” I put my hand over his mouth, pointing to my ears indicating to him to listen. The dim amber light from outside gave just enough light for him to be able to see me.

“We have to do this. We have to at least check.”

“What if they are infected?”

“We don’t even know if it’s occupied.”

“It could be,”

“I don’t think it’s spread this far north.”

Dan reached for the gun and sat up, oh god. This was happening. He didn’t pick it up yet.

“There is someone in here and we are very much awake.” He said, causing me to jump.

“Oh shit,” the female voice hissed.

“So, you’ll be on your way then,” Dan said with more confidence than I had ever heard him express.

“Ah,” I heard more whispers, unable to make them out I strained harder with no luck. “Listen, we don’t mean any harm. We just need some supplies, we had to run,”

“They were collecting sick people, we had to go.”

“You’re sick?” I squeaked, fear in my voice.

“We’re not sick at all and the one who is isn’t “Zombie” sick.”

“Doesn’t matter, leave!” Dan yelled.

“Please,” the female voice sounded desperate, “We just need a little food for my child so he can take his medicine. We don’t have any food right now, we are,”

“Prove it!” Dan barked. I had never heard him speak in this tone.

“What? How?”

“I haven’t heard any children.”

I heard a car door open and close, then a child whine. “Moses, wake up,”

“Momma, I don’t wanna,”

“I know, baby,”

“There,” the male voice said. “So, you see, we need to help our child. We don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Dan,” I whispered, “The kid,”

“Yeah, I know,” he closed his fingers around the gun, still not picking it up. “Okay, this is how this is going to work, I have a gun.” He took a deep breath. “If this is a trick, I would just leave right now. Think of the kid.”

“We promise, just a little food and we will leave.”

“Momma, I’m scared,” I heard the child start to cry.

Dan’s hands were shaking so badly I doubted he could have opened the door, let alone pick up the gun. Without much thought, I picked it up, Dan looked at me confused. My hands held it steadily, I wasn’t sure how. “Phil,” Dan whispered, I shook my head

“How can we be sure you’re not infected?

“We have hand sanitizer!” the male exclaimed

Dan scoffed. “I doubt that will combat becoming a Zombie,”

“The alcohol sizzles on the skin of an infected,” the female said, “It’s been all over the news!”

“What?” How could we know if that were true? We hadn’t paid any attention to the news lately.

“Do we trust that?” Dan whispered.

“I don’t know, how do we know how it spreads, is it through the air?”

“No,” the male voice said, “direct contact with bodily fluids.”

“We haven’t been keeping up with this as well as we should have been,” Dan said, shaking his head.

“Fine,” I took a deep breath. "I have the gun, I am going to crack this window,”

“Put your arms together and show us you aren’t infected.” Dan finished.

We cracked the window and saw three arms and a hand applying the sanitizer, nothing happened. Dan opened the door and climbed out, I followed closely.

“Thank you,” the woman said, relief flooding her face. I looked at the little boy, he looked sick. I frowned. Dan reached into the back and grabbed a bag of fully sealed food and water. He knelt to him, “Hello,” I heard him say in a tone of voice he saves solely for animals and children. I smiled. “Are you hungry?” The boy nodded. “Okay, here.” Dan handed him the bag as he retreated to his parents, stumbling slightly from the weight of it.

“Thank you,” the man said.

“You’re welcome,” Dan said. “So, they are rounding up sick people are they?”

“Yes,” the woman said, “They think they are more susceptible, but it’s spread through bodily fluids, not the air. It’s ridiculous."

“What are they doing with sick people?” I asked. Both of them remained silent. “Oh,” I said. If they couldn't answer, I knew it wasn't good.

“You’re British?” The man said, panicked, suddenly noticing our accents. “Did you live here before, or did you flee?”

“We just made it out,”

“They say it started in Texas, a flight from Dublin. At least in the US”

“We hadn’t heard,” Dan offered.

“The updates we’ve heard is that they lit most of the Uk on fire and alcohol burns the skin of those infected in the stages where they don’t physically appear sick.”

Suddenly, the woman dropped the bag and the man tossed the hand sanitizer to Dan. They just had realized they didn’t know if we were infected or not. “Your turn then,” He was nervous. Dan nodded and applied some to his arm and nothing happened. Relieved the woman picked up the bag. Dan handed it to me. My hands shook as I took the bottle, setting the gun down on the seat.

“Phil?” Dan asked, his face dropping.

“Yeah, Yeah.” I popped open the cap and drizzled a large glob on my arm, suddenly pain blossomed and I heard sizzling.

“Holy shit,” the man said, ushering his family quickly to his car. “He didn’t touch the bag, did he?”

“No, I didn’t,” I said sadly. They all slammed their doors and sped out of the parking lot.

“Oh, Phil,”

“Dan,” I said quietly. “I am not sure how I haven’t infected you.”

“How did you get infected, Phil?” He asked, raking a hand through his curls.

“Must have been the sweaty guy at the diner,” I said. “Dan, I’m going to turn into one of those things. I am going to die.”

“You don’t know that, I bet the American government is trying to find a cure right now! You’re going to be fine Phil; it’s going to be fine.”

“I don’t know how I am still me; I thought this thing moved fast.”

“See? Maybe you are somehow immune to that part!”

“Dan,” I said softly. “You know you have to leave me here.”

“What? No Phil. No. We have to go to meet Tom and the others.”

“Dan, I am going to become a Zombie.”

“We don’t know that for sure!” He insisted, he was becoming hysterical.

“Dan, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be,”

“No, we will live here, in the car, until they come up with a cure!”

“Remember Florida? You asked me not to stay and die with you. I am just asking you the same. How can I allow myself to even consider having you stay with me? How can you do this to me? I am going to infect you. You are going to die, because of me. You have to leave, now! Somehow you are not infected! You are going to survive. Go.”

Suddenly Dan opened the front door, laid across the seats and got something out of the glove box and came back to me. “I'm sorry about this," He said, confusing me.

“For what?” Suddenly, Dan, had me pinned to the rear seat; I saw he was holding something that glinted in the light. “What are you?” My words died in my throat as there was a sharp, burning pain in my arm. Dan then slit his palm open and pressed it into my cut, as hard as he could, causing both wounds to open further.

“No, Dan, what are you doing! Stop!”

"You have not infected me and you won't, Phil. I am infecting myself."

I struggled against him, “Please, stop.” Tears welled up in my eyes.

“Shut up, Phil.” He said softly, “You know, my whole family is probably dead too. I’m not fucking leaving you, Phil. I knew you wouldn’t accept that. Now we both are going to be infected.”

I was crying at this point. “You are an idiot.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“We are both going to die now, you realize that, right?”

“Or become mad Zombies together,” He had removed his hand from my arm and grabbed a wad of napkins. He pressed some to the cut on my arm as he tried to control the bleeding in his palm.

I moved my arm and held the pressure on my wound. “You could have gone to Tom, could have been happy. You didn’t have to become this,”

He shrugged, “Can’t be bothered, I can't see a life where I am happy without you.” He grabbed my face and kissed me hard. “I love you.” “I love you too,” I said resolved.

“So, what do you say, Phil? Want to be my Zombie boyfriend until the end?”

“This is so stupid, you should have run from me. This is going to be hell.”

“Nah,” he said kissing my cheek. “This will be the most fun I’ve ever had!”

#phanfiction #pff bingo 2019

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arbeaone · 5 years

Photo

ShellsuitZombie Magazine Issue 2 Published on July 26, 2011

[ View larger version here ] Text from the article can be read below. (There may be some errors.)

I, BOLLO

One spectacularly sunny lunchtime, ShellsuitZombie managed to hunt down a rare Gorilla only common to Clerkenwell London. Dave Brown, most famous for his role as Bollo in The Mighty Boosh, spends most of his time as a designer and photographer producing (alongside Boosh work like 2008s spectacularly successful 'The Mighty Book of Boosh') beautiful printed staff for clients like Universal and the BBC, as well as of course the odd performance to tens of thousands on arena tours around the country. It's safe to say we were feeling pretty smug about trapping him in a pub in Clerkenwell (which happens to be just below his studio) for a pint and a chat about Design, the future of Boosh, Noel's new book and photographing Julian Barratt and villagers in Ghana.

SSZ: So Dave/Bollo, what would you consider to be your main job?

Dave: I guess I consider myself to be a creative, the Boosh started as something I did with my mates as a laugh and it blew up into something huge. I've always had to juggle the worlds of and Design, quite often for me they overlap, obviously when you're out on tour it's all consuming but even then I've been known to be sat in my hotel room on a squeezing the odd freelance job in.

So you've always been freelance?

I couldn't be full time, in the early days I needed the freedom to be able to drop everything and get involved in a Boosh project at the drop of a hat, so freelance was perfect, then just before the first live Boosh tour in 2006 I did something I'd always wanted to do and set up my own agency, aptly named Ape, with a mind to be more of a collective of creatives rather then just a sole trader It allows me to get all the amazing creatives I've had the pleasure of meeting and working with over the years involved as and when I can on all kinds of creative projects.

It's been pretty full on since to be honest, so full on in fact that I haven't even had time to launch the website! It always gets pushed to the bottom of the to do list when I'm busy and then when I find the time to get back to it I've gone off everything I've done and start again. There's a holding page up at the moment that says 'Gorillas can use up to 52 different tools.They're currently using those tools to build this site'. Well they're obviously rubbish at using them because it's taking them bloody ages to finish!

Would you say Boosh has helped the rest of your career?

I guess so, although you could also say it's got in the way. I am doing a lot of books now as a result of the Boosh book but many of my clients haven't a clue who I am. I've done work for Feame Cotton, Ben Brooks, James Rhodes, Nick Cave and recently comedian Tim Key as a result of the book and Boosh work in general. BBC books actually just rang and asked me if I'd be interested in designing this years Top Gear guide to Christmas book! They've approached me because they said they loved the Boosh book and would like my take on things. Will be great if that's true but I'm not counting my chickens just yet. I recently did an interview with Radio 4 where I went on a massive rant about Jeremy Clarkson's stonewashed pumpkin arse not fitting into my Morris Minor so if they get wind of that it could be off ! (Ed.- Since doing this interview Dave has stepped away from the Top Gear job due to, shall we say, creative differences)

It sounds like books are your bread and butter. How do you go about designing a successful book like ‘TMBOB’?

I don't have a process, I approach everything from an idea, every brief is obviously different and I design to that, so it's a bit worrying when people say 'I love the Boosh book, can you do that for me?' - I interpret that as can you adopt a similar way of approaching the brief rather than making it look exactly like the Book of Boosh. The Boosh book was designed around the characters really, the style and feel of each page born from an idea in the writing and from the vibrancy and diversity of the show, a 4 column grid with a consistent type style was obviously never going to work!

The Boosh book sold incredibly well, largely due to the popularity of the show, but we were also very keen to not just make it a standard off the shelf spin off shitty annual like most TV show books. Like all Boosh product, we're very hands on, mostly doing it ourselves and we dedicate time and effort to make sure the final product is worthy of the show. That's pretty unique to be honest I think this attention to detail and quality control is what makes our fans so insanely loyal. We haven't done anything new in ages but the books and DVD's are still selling, purely down to the quality of the design of course!

Surely not everyone just wants you for your Boosh?

No, like I said, I have a fair few clients that don't know I'm in the Boosh, in fact, awhile ago when I was still freelancing, one client left me in charge of their studio before getting on a flight to New York, on the flight they watched a Boosh ep and saw me playing Joey Moose in the first series. They were like 'Is that the guy we just... what the fuck?'

Bollo has played to some huge crowds...

Yeah the last tour we did was insane, Wembley Arena, multiple nights at Brixton, selling out the 02 two nights on the trot, it's been a crazy time and I'm so lucky to have had those experiences, it is hard after a touring sitting back at a computer designing but I get my kicks out of the creative and I still keep a toe in show business with a bit of directing, writing and the odd gig here and there. To be honest it's hard trying to keep it all up and sometimes I wish I just had one job to do. Design isn't exactly a part time job is it! and I've also just had a baby girl, so lets just say I'm pretty tired and exhausted at the moment, I'm smiling though, honest.

What are you up to at the moment?

At the moment I'm working on a book with Noel called The Scribblings of a Madcap Shambleton, not Boosh related, it's basically a book about Noel’s art and writing and I'm design and compiling it. There's also a lot of my photography in it. It's a visual bombardment of Noel's mind really, paintings, sketchbooks, scribbling, it's looking amazing. He's pretty prolific, such a huge body of work. He's been painting for years, unlike some famous freaks who get a set of colouring pencils for Christmas and decide through boredom that they're now an artist. Noel can actually paint his tits off and does so every moment he gets and has done for years so at the moment I'm trying to get 530 pages down to 320! What's really interesting about the work when you see it all together is that you can see how he writes to inspire his painting and he paints to inspire his writing, I know I'm biased but I love his stuff if you haven't seen it think Basquiat, Haring, DeBuffet, Magritte, Hockney, Aubrey Beardsley...

So are there any plans in the pipeline for the Boosh?

Well everyone's working on separate things at the moment Noel is busy doing his own show 'Noel Fielding's Luxury Comedy' and Julian is doing a Russian play at the Young Vic 'Government Inspector'. Those two have pretty much become Howard and Vince.

The last thing we were working on was the album. I was told when I last heard it about 3 months ago that it was 90% done and it sounded immense then so no idea what's going on! It has all the tracks from the show reworked, longer and better as well as new ones written for characters, I reckon they all stand up in their own right, even if you'd never seen the Boosh I still reckon you could get into it, the new Crack Fox track is incredible! It's a great album, people should have it in their ear holes right now.

People always ask if The Boosh have split up, I guess it’s inevitable when nothing new has happened in a while but we haven't and stuff will again, Noel and Julian do things when they're ready, they've produced so much material over the years, they're just having a break at the mo. There's still loads of stuff on the table that's never seen the light of day, but they'll do it when they're ready and when they do it will be great. They just need to find out where that table is...

Is the passion still there?

Yeah of course, always will be, for them and for me. You always come back stronger after a holiday, just maybe a little sunburnt, haha.

So I hear you're involved in some charity work. Fancy talking about that for a bit?

Yes, I love talking about it! I have just become an ambassador for afrikids.org, A freaking ambassador! Afrikids is a charity focusing on child rights in Northern Africa - They've been an absolute joy to work with, I've done some fundraising for them as Bollo, I've rebranded them, not as Bollo, and I even got the opportunity to spend some time in Ghana last year seeing their projects firsthand. I was filming and taking stills for their library, it was an incredible experience - it sounds clichéd and worthy saying it was life changing but it was. The Upper East region of Ghana is an amazing place, the people are beautiful, many of them have next to nothing and yet they're so welcoming, so happy, so positive and an absolute joy to photograph. From a portraiture point of view it was incredible. You expect a certain amount of shyness or self awareness from someone when you stick a big camera in their face but everyone there was so natural and un-effected. They would just look right down the lens without a hint of embarrassment or effect. I couldn't stop taking pictures. I need to go back, there's a chance I will be involved in an ambulance convoy driving donated medical vehicles and equipment from Southampton to Bolgatanga in Northern Ghana next year, imagine the photographic opportunity there! There's a book in that... If I could do anything I'd be travelling the world taking pictures

How does that compare to shooting backstage on tour?

Worlds apart in terms of there being more more booze, hairspray and ... erm ... humous but actually not that different from a photographic point of view, it’s still about getting yourself in the right place, sensing when to be anonymous and when to get in amongst it. I'm lucky with the Boosh obviously because I'm an insider, it means everyone acts as if there wasn't a camera around, except Rich of course who turns into a complete psycho, nutjob, showoff whenever any recording equipment appears. He's a shy introvert mouse normally!

The trouble with me taking all the backstage Boosh shots is that I'm never in any of them, but then when we get photographers out on tour to shoot us I always feel for them because they usually get nothing! Especially when they're big personalities and act all crazy and hyper like that's what we react to! I always smile to myself and think 'you're not going to get anything here mate, especially from Julian' He rarely gives me anything photographically let alone a strange cool cat called Moses in his silly hat and mad trainers wondering why in every shot he has of Julian he's talking or eating!

I can imagine him being a pain in the arse

Not at all, well, maybe just a little every now and then but aren't we all? He's also the most truthful loyal down the line no shit guy you'll ever meet, he's also fucking hilarious and one of the best comic actors out there.

How did you meet?

Me, Noel and Nige (Boosh animator and co creator of Noels new show) went to see Julian do standup at uni - he was fucking amazing. Noel had wanted to go in for an award which Julian had won the year before, the daily telegraph open mic award, so thats why we saw him ... I think ... but then they met in Edinburgh and both got signed to the same management company and started writing together. Then they did three years in Edinburgh before the radio and TV shows. Being there from the off means I have photography all the way back to the source, I plan to do an exhibition and book some day of the lot, maybe next year, I think it’s 10 years since the first series? I may be wrong, my mind is mash, too much humous on tour.

OK We have some questions from ShensuitZombie readers. Graeme asks: Where are you keeping the severed head of the honey monster*?

* After a Sugar Puffs advert used a similar crimping style to the Boosh, Bollo exacted his revenge on the brand’s iconic beast live on tour.

Ha, I don't know where that is. It's probably behind a bin backstage somewhere in a Scottish theatre. The last gig on our last tour was in Aberdeen, I don't know whose fucking idea that was. It was a great gig and the people were amazing but we it did feel a bit of anti climax, although the journey back to London was ridiculous, it felt like it was half an hour! The honey monster head, I don't know, it's probably in Peter Kay's bed, discuss.

Holly asks: Do you find yourself grunting and acting like a primate after being onstage?

It's the most powerful thing to be in that costume, and acting it - especially in real life situations, I've found that out when I've been doing charity work, fundraising in banks and stuff, getting in lifts and acting nonchalant amongst business men and women. Some people react well and have a laugh, embrace it, others desperately try to ignore the fact that they're standing in a lift with Gorilla, others have massive heart attacks and die at my primate feet. It's weird for kids because they either run up and cuddle you or freeze, have meltdowns and are forever scared.

A friend recently did a film with John Landis [Director of American Werewolf in London and Thriller] who is apparently obsessed with monkey impersonators. He has a room in his house dedicated to all the monkey actors of the world and reckons he can tell who is in any monkey suit in any film anywhere. So he asked my mate for a signed photo of Bollo and I had to send him a strange signed shot like those ones you see in New York dry cleaners. Still, now I know I'm in John Landis's monkey room I sleep better at night.

John asks: In the Bollo Cadburys ad parody is it you in the suit*?

** If you don’t know what this is referring to, look here: tinyurl.com/bollocadburys

Of course it is, how very dare you suggest otherwise...

Which is your favourite episode?

Milky Joe is awesome, I love Nanageddon and Old Gregg and in series 3 it's got to be Eels. It’s tough to pick a favourite, I genuinely piss myself at most of them even when I watch them back now.

Is anything ad-libbed?

Yeah, have you met Rich? Ever tried to get him to say the same line twice! It's always where the best stuff comes from, harder in TV land but on tour it’s encouraged and is always where the gold comes from, also keeps you alive, when you're doing 6 shows a week for four or so months you need to keep it fresh.

In fact, there was one thing that Bollo had to do in the live show, rolling a big prop offstage. One day the caster caught and I stacked it, incidentally ripping my leg open in the process. It got the biggest laugh of the night so I carried on doing it for the rest of the tour!

Thanks Dave, it's been sweet.

No worries, nice to meet you.

And with that, like an ape in the woods, he was gone.

Check out Dave's site - www.apeinc.co.uk

Dave took hundreds of photos of Ghanaians on his recent trip with Afrikids, a charity for whom he is ambassador.

#Dave Brown #Noel Fielding #Julian Barratt #The Mighty Boosh #ShellsuitZombie #ShellsuitZombie Magazine #`❦

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shkspr · 5 years

Text

The Gospel according to David and Michael

transcribed from [x]

Good Omens, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s darkly comic novel about the battle between good and evil, comes to Amazon Prime this spring. To mark the occasion, the British stars of this hugely anticipated show — Michael Sheen and David Tennant — take New York in style. HAYLEY CAMPBELL meets them.

It’s Sunday morning in New York City and it’s snowing outside the warm, jazz-filled Beekman hotel, where a 50th-birthday balloon has been trapped for months at the apex of the glass atrium at the top of one of the city’s first skyscrapers. One thousand New Year’s Eve balloons have risen and fallen in the time this one silver balloon has taken to not die. If the apocalypse were to arrive tomorrow, this balloon would survive along with the cockroaches, the deep-sea fish, and the angel and the demon who tried to avert the disaster. If the prophecies of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman’s cult novel Good Omens prove to be correct, this balloon would bob high above their heads as it is doing now — above Michael Sheen and David Tennant, light and dark, good and evil, an angel and a demon sitting either side of me in lower Manhattan, eating eggs.

I last saw these two together in 2017, in the middle of London’s Battersea Park, shooting some early scenes of their hugely anticipated television show. Good Omens is about the birth of Satan, the coming of the End Times, and an angel (Aziraphale — who has been living on Earth since the dawn of creation and is currently working in a bookshop avoiding selling books because he really just likes to collect them) and a demon (Crowley — who used to be known as Crawly, the snake who tempted Eve with the apple). The pair have spent so much time on earth that they’ve come to quite like it, and don’t much fancy the idea of it all ending. The novel was published in 1990 and has gone on to become so loved that it is rare to see a pristine copy in the world: copies of Good Omens almost always come pre-dunked in tea. Shortly before his death from Alzheimer’s in early 2015, Pratchett wrote an email to his collaborator Gaiman asking him to take it to the screen, to do it properly. “I’m making it for Terry,” says Gaiman. “I wanted to make the thing that Terry would have liked.”

Sheen and Tennant star as the angelic and demonic representatives of their respective head offices, Heaven and Hell, along with a knee-weakening list of stars including Jon Hamm as the archangel Gabriel, Spinal Tap’s Michael McKean as the last of a once proud witchfinder army, and Frances McDormand as the voice of God. There’s Miranda Richardson, Jack Whitehall, three quarters of the League of Gentlemen, and Nick Offerman as the father of the Antichrist (sort of). The cast list reads like someone collecting acting talent to put on an ark ready for a biblical flood.

For months, we have tried to get them together again to talk about the end of the world. But life and work had them circling the globe separately, unmatchable as opposing magnets. Sheen is currently in New York filming The Good Fight, in which he plays a Machiavellian lawyer, and Tennant has flown in on the red-eye from Phoenix, Arizona, where he was appearing at the Ace Comic Con, mobbed by Doctor Who fans. Both of them have, since they last saw each other, grown beards. Tennant is ecstatic about the beards, and both are thrilled to see each other, and New York, again.

“I’ve spent a lot of time in New York over the years now,” says Sheen. “But still there’s times where you look at something and you think it just looks so incredibly beautiful, or strange, or filmic. It never loses that sense of unreality. I love being able to take it in by walking through the streets. Los Angeles feels like everything happens indoors, whereas here in New York, everything happens outdoors.”

“I do like New York,” adds Tennant. “I love a big city, and I love a busy city.”

Tennant and Sheen have bumped into each other before, both appearing in Stephen Fry’s 2003 film Bright Young Things, but they were never in the same scene. Sheen voice a character in an episode of Doctor Who written by Gaiman, but by then Tennant’s Doctor had regenerated. They tend to go for similar roles so there’s rarely a chance for them to both be cast — it’s usually one or the other. Gaiman, the author and showrunner of Good Omens, selected Sheen for the role. “I’ve known Michael for about a decade and one of the things that always impressed me about him was his goodness,” he says. “He’s just very good. He radiates goodness and lovability. I was always fascinated by the fact that he tends to play characters who, at least on the outside, are sort of brittle and perhaps a little damaged or dangerous.”

Selecting an actor to play the BMW driving, skinny-jeans-wearing demon was an equally tricky task. “For David, I was writing episode three and there is a scene set in a church. I had to bring Crowley on and suddenly I knew exactly how I needed that scene to be done in order to work: with him coming down the aisle hopping from foot to foot, going ‘ow ow ow ow ow!’ like he’s at the beach in bare feet. Only David Tennant could do that right. People seemed baffled when it was announced that they were cast because they’re a similar kind of actor, but the similarities between them felt so incredibly right when you’re building this kind of thing.”

Tennant and Sheen joke that when the theatre production of Good Omens (hold your horses, there isn’t one) travels the world, they will swap roles every night, even though Sheen says he couldn’t imagine it the other way around: “Ultimately I don’t think I can pull off cool,” he says, as Tennant scoffs in disbelief. “I think it just suits my natural being, that I’m kind of a worrier, and a little bit too anal for my own good. Things annoy me if they’re not quite right. And yet I like to think of myself as being a good person. So all of that hypocrisy and finickiness seems to lend itself to the natural rhythm of Aziraphale.”

“I love that you describe Crowley as cool,” laughs Tennant. “I think he thinks he’s cool, but isn’t.”

Tennant is adamant that having Gaiman as a showrunner is the pin that is holding this strange world together, one that is “tonally sort of nebulous”, but definitely very funny, and one that would benefit from a bingewatch to take it in all at once (all six episodes will be available on Amazon at once and later the BBC will broadcast them week-by-week). “I think if anyone else was running this they would’ve normalised it, would’ve made it saner, and would’ve ironed out some of the quirks of it,” he says. “Neil’s been fantastically clever at making it televisual where he had to, but it still has the madness, the impracticality of the book.”

Plus, there’s the fact that Gaiman is 50 per cent of the book. Because of that, his casting choices landed a little more softly in the world of Good Omens fandom. But Sheen and Tennant aren’t too worried about being unwelcome: they have in their short time as Aziraphale and Crowley discovered that Good Omens fans may be devoted to the point of madness (the cosplay and pornographic fan fiction has already begun), but they are certainly kind. “I have found that Neil’s work is almost like the Arthurian sword in the stone,” says Sheen. “You can only pull the sword out if you are pure of heart. And I think you only like Neil’s stuff if there’s something about you that means you won’t be mean to people on the whole.”

“I think that’s true of Doctor Who fans as well,” says Tennant. “If your mind is set in that way, then you have a generosity of spirit. And there’s quite an overlap between the two fandoms.”

They seem almost wistful until I bring up the airfield. Days after filming during a cold snap in Battersea Park, where we huddled like penguins around glowing heaters in tents, production moved to an airfield outside London where they had built a fake Soho to house Aziraphale’s bookshop. It was the place that changed everyone’s idea of what ‘cold’ actually meant, but it also became the ultimate green room of all time. Both of them look wide-eyed at the mention of the place, for both reasons.

“That blasted airfield! It was blasted in every sense of the word,” says Tennant. “But the great joy was you had all the cast together at once. Between takes we had this big trailer where they would blast the heaters and we’d go and recover.”

“We’d drink hot chocolate, tell stories, and watch TV,” beams Sheen, who says the thing he misses most about the UK is the fact that he can mention The Flumps and people actually know what that is.

“But the only TV channel that would work was some version of Turner Classic Movies,” says Tennant. “Ancient old movies on a loop. Michael McKean would just sit there telling us stories about people he knew or about some sort of terrible Hollywood lifestyle they’d once lived.”

Though it took months to get them both in the same room in the same city, it is a genuine treat to see Sheen and Tennant together. They seem to prop each other up, to fill the space where the other is not, in both acting and conversing. Neither steps on the other’s toes. Above all, they seem to have a deep respect for one another. “It genuinely made me sad when we stopped filming,” says Sheen. “I didn’t want to not be doing it any more.” Good Omens makes you wonder why nobody thought of putting them together sooner. It is the strangest buddy story so far, the one just before the end of the world, starring the most unlikely pals who for some reason quite like each other — mostly because they’ve just been posted here a bit too long by their superiors so they have more in common with each other than they do with Heaven or Hell — and, crucially, quite like us. It’s the kind of thing that makes you believe the world is worth saving.

#p.txt #good omens #david #michael #gomens #you know a bitch wrote this out as a public service #sorry if ur on mobile :// c'est longue #david tennant #michael sheen

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Hobbit Soulmate Pt 23

Near daily in trips to meet with Jennifer at her home gym you helped to tone her up a bit more like a fighter in time for filming kept you busy. And you breezed right through the maze of sets and pair of films filling up nearly a month and a half to complete your roles while the other actors finalized the rest of the film.

Maid in Manhattan was a lovely couple of weeks, and for the shadowing of Natasha on a few scenes you at least got to meet Ralph, who was thrilled to have your paths cross on set after having heard about you being a fan of his through your father. “Hello, you must be Jaqi.” With brows lifted mid sip of your absurd latte that one of the assistants got for Natasha in a variety of four choices she usually ordered she passed onto you the voice on your right turned your head to the familiar actor.

Lowering the cup after swallowing and licking the adorable shudder from you had Ralph smiling wider followed by a wide smile from you, “Yes, Jaqi, that’s me.” Nervously you took another sip only to make him chuckle at your clear distaste of the drink you had been given. “Nice to meet you, Mr, Ralph.”

“Just Ralph is fine. Your father told me about you, that you are a fan and you’ve seen a lot of my work. I believe he said you saw Wuthering Heights five times in theater.” Again he smiled seeing you taking another sip trying to hold back your reaction to that.

“In my defense we are from a one horse town and we only get three films a season in our old theater house.”

Pointing at the drink he said, “You don’t have to drink that if you don’t like it you know.”

“No, well, you see they got it for Natasha and her and Jennifer took two of them and they said I could choose from the two but the other has almond milk. Plus it’s $6,” His brows lifted again as you took another sip and added, “$6 could feed me three weeks when I went to Julliard.”

“Oh,” it clicked in his head the full reason why you were drinking the drink you clearly didn’t want or ask for. “In that case, at least let me have a sandwich or something with some substance ordered for you because the coffee in that will hit you hard.”

Smacking your tongue you said, “Only thing hitting me is an odd aftertaste of garlic. Wow.” Making him chuckle again. “Sorry, having fun? I saw you have such a sweet dog to work with.”

“Yes,” he chuckled out, “Yes, it is fun today, I get to do the park scenes. Changing from one suit to another and back again. What are you up to?”

“I get to watch Natasha and Amy do some exercises and then I get to change and take notes while Natasha is meant to show up at the hotel.”

He turned his head hearing his name being called and in looking back to you he said, “Sandwich, on the way, promise.” He said and you nodded after taking another sip of the drink that would keep you up all day only to make you crash hard to sleep once you got back to your apartment after eating out with your dad.

A good impression was formed by all between stolen chances to play with the dog Ralph would be pretending was his in the film only luring some more attention to you for the already friendly rest of the cast bringing a few to try and include you a bit more. While Natasha claimed a near daily lunch slot with you to keep getting to know you better than just the young woman she had helped pick out a sweater once then helped into a few new jobs.

Two Weeks Notice was brief just under a week, and limited to random costume changes behind a desk and crossing through the office. Somehow always ending up on the table near to the lead cast on lunches and breaks, who after one had noticed your eyes in passing had taken a chance on asking you a few questions when the got the chance to get to know you better. Realizing that a few of them were also working on Maid in Manhattan as well deepening your conversations on that project too. Each a bit puzzled on why you had been keeping to yourself even with a wedding scene you were added to filling an extra bridesmaid slot.

Weekly reminding Richard that you would be tuning in to his latest, Sparkhouse, that was to be airing soon on BBC, a fact that Ralph on your final days took mental note of after your having shared who was in it to build up your anticipation for the nod to the classic Wuthering Heights he promised to keep a look out for as well.

For Enough, while Jennifer delved deeper into her own character bringing it to life you continued to help her train to keep up her figure until the filming had ended and England came calling. Your role was much smaller than your father had expected, but at least you had some lines and had the chance to build some semblance of a character for the little bit you were there. While trying to aid your new friend through her lead role in this slightly disturbing thriller testing her limits.

Right on the back end of his play while your father flew with you, smirking at the way you managed to sneak back to Richard’s place in time to change and hurry off to catch one of the final dates to his play. You sat all the way in the back for it in some of the last available seats and waited outside for when it was over leaning against his car. Out of his downward gazing stroll he snapped seeing the body leaning against his hood, ready to yell out of all his pent up frustrations that instantly melted away in seeing you. “Hey Richy Rich,” squeaking giddily in his lifting you into a tight hug your giggles erupted in his content hum and burial of his face in the side of your neck. “Oh I missed these arms.”

Warmly his lips found yours and chuckling through your muffled giggles he held you on the few steps to the door of his car he pressed you against then hummed in breaking the kiss to hold his forehead to yours, “I love you, Dearest. More than words, and you’re here now.” Pulling back he asked, “How long are you here? Joe too?”

“Well, The Fellowship premiers in New Zealand in December, London right after, I have been ordered to be at both, as have you and Dad, so, through to December. Might make a Christmas of it. Just in time for your show to air, which we are having a party for.” Spreading a grin across his face ending in his next fiery kiss. “And yes, Joe too.”

In a grumble he replied breaking the kiss, “We can be quiet then,” Making you giggle again in his next kiss and tight hug before driving you home to greet Joe warmly as well.

“So, let me see the stack,” he chuckled out talking about your scripts you giggled and brought out of your bags to set the scripts you had been given on the table explaining each he loved hearing about. Knowing fully you would be sneaking his own stack to hear about while cuddled up in bed excited to see what he had chosen. “No tv offers yet?”

“No, not exactly, though I did hear from a friend that the guys in one agency scouting for some shows had talked about me, hearing that I was good to work with and I had a spot on About a Boy. A second film with Hugh Grant.”

“Have you met him yet?” Richard asked.

“No, he’d already flown back here, but I did get to meet Sandra Bullock. She’s nice.”

Richard, “That’s good. If it helps even my agent has heard some whispers about you, building interest even out here. He knows we’re together so he said he’d make sure you know if there was anything serious.”

“I don’t think I can afford him, I won’t be paid-,”

He shook his head, “Not like that. As a friend, his idea is that if you have friends then I have friends. Possibly do some couply things.”

Joe chuckled, “No doubt you will be paired up soon enough on film after you were photographed at that film premier. It made the papers and it has been added to the wall.”

Richard looked at you, “There is a wall?”

In a giggle from you he replied, “Back in Texas they have been chronicling Jaqi’s career. There is a wall and books for the articles and magazines.”

Richard’s smile split wider, “Well I am flattered to have made the wall.”

Joe, “No doubt your family has a wall of their own.”

Again Richard chuckled, “Mum has a trunk for my things. Tends to keep my things from school up on display to keep me from being embarrassed. I have a piddly award from grammar school on a poem I wrote and read in an assembly and she has the picture and statuette up I tend to try to scoot behind one of Chris’ spelling awards. You can barely tell what the statuette is for but all the same Mum ensures the little bird is in full view.”

Joe, “The little ones are the best. Pumpkin won seven spelling bees in a row, adorable little sheep statues,” making you both chuckle, “Got all the way up to the bronze bull from the state wide championship. Even won a challenge for crosswords in her last year in high school, oddest little jenga block looking statue, still, on the wall.”

Richard, “So, is your home just empty, back in Texas?”

“Oh, no, it’s all connected, a big house for my brother with the most kids, and the other three have homes on the land and ours is the mother in law cottage attached to the big house. Everyone back home is making sure that when we need it we have a have a home to come back to. So if you two ever find your way back near Texas I think you’d like it.”

Richard glanced between you two asking, “Do you miss it? I know you’ve been home recently, I don’t think Jaqi’s been home in a while.”

“A lot of my spot in Daredevil is shot in Texas actually, so I can visit family then. Show them pictures of Misty for when filming is done and she gets flown out. Darkness Falls is all over, Maine, Vegas, Australia. Everywhere.”

Richard hummed out, “That one’s a horror film?”

You nodded, “Yes, but I am a fleeing nurse from what I can tell, they have one of the cast from Buffy to head it.”

Joe, “Well it certainly sounds good. I can’t wait to see it.”

Richard chuckled, “I may have to wait until it is out, then I can watch it from behind a couch cushion.”

With a giggle you replied, “Who knows if screaming nurses get invited to the premier, doubtful.”

Joe, “Be a shame not to invite you.”

Finally Hugh got to run into the woman who Natasha had recommended for the job. One of the women mingling through the final stretch of the filming. Complete with a blond bob wig you melded into Susan, the single mom who he dated the longest on film. It was only a couple weeks but the curious actor clearly saw what he had been told about his last minute love interest number four. One who following Natasha’s comments was abundantly charming, granted a little star struck at first but no less lovely to work with. Though stunningly young, nearly half his age easing the decision of noticing there was nothing romantic about your scenes past a possible hand holding scene easing a bubbling friendship between the pair of you leading to his own interest in seeing the BBC show that you had been anticipating yet to be promoted yet. Even more so once he found out the real reason you were so thrilled for it to air making you even more adorable in his eyes at being so proud of your mate’s arguably largest role to date.

Through which those feelers Richard’s agent had passed on about shows that could be interested in hiring you. However once you got there the first involved close to full nudity which had you politely turning down the roles. Refusing to be limited to showing all of yourself since you had shown some skin in Chicago which had Velma singing about boozing and being casual in sleeping around. That wasn’t the route you wanted to go down in the start of your career, sure to be a plummet after being in something so tremendous as Lord of the Rings. The others a couple period pieces that you were given scripts to look over while they finished the details to start filming that would take a few months at least.

“We don’t have to do this,” again Richard half heartedly whined while loving the fuss of having you all in his parent’s home in their living room for the mini premier party for Sparkhouse. Right in front of you sunken down into the lounger end of their couch with feet up on the foot rest smiling at your arms and legs draped around him.

Chris laughed curling around his girlfriend who was holding their bowl of popcorn while Margaret came back into the room passing him a bowl of chips while she kept her own to pass to her husband who had their fish and dips, “Oh psh, now all the girls are tuning in as well and I won’t be the only one who shows up to book club not knowing how my baby boy did on BBC.” Luring out a proud smirk making your dad chuckle to himself smiling after glancing your way on his left nipping at your lip in excitement.

A gasp came a few minutes in from you seeing his entrance into the show, “Those curls,” Richard chuckled hanging his head a moment only to look up again at your peck on his cheek. Silence for his parts came with hushed comments while others spoke, mainly the female lead character you all loathed right off for how she treated your lovable Richy. From being shunned to the squeak inducing sausage nibbling door answering scene had Richard absolutely loving that you were here to be with him through this.

So long he’d seen the work you were linked to, so glamorous and assured to success even in your extra roles. Beamingly proud of your success and wishing for so much more in the years ahead, yet while he still felt to have no leverage at all having you here so proud and confident he was gaining momentum himself to greater things he’d dreamed of. Always being his reminder to be positive and have hope seeing fully the reasons why he had chosen each role and his own take on them you assured him he had lived up to the plans set down for them in his researching bouts.

All the way through his makeover and the adorably sheepish wedding registry scene down to his jealousy you cuddled around him more stealing more kisses on his cheek while his hands smoothed across your legs still looped across his lap and tangling in the fingers on the arms draped across his chest. Post hard fight scene you all praised the lovable giant who was throwing his weight around and shared how his on screen nemesis for his terrible wife’s attention hadn’t expected him to be able to just pick him up and slam him around by his usual demeanor. Said nemesis dies in the end and scoffing slightly at poor John Standring’s fate for a loveless marriage to a terrible selfish woman living off conning others you all had a bittersweet opinion of wishing better for him while praising your blushing cuddle buddy hiding behind a pillow still in your hold. That even your dad complimented on his great choice of a role, stunning him by sharing that he’d seen more of his guest roles on tv he had also seen with less chance to thrive.

Off the ground as a blanket of snow had begun to fall you were back on a plane to New Zealand. Nearly all day the flight went smoothly and between your father and Richard you remained giggling and surprisingly calm for the momentous premier. Again you were back, not for long, but just as anxious the rest of the cast was jittery to see what Peter and the team had finalized for theaters. It would be shorter than planned, with an expected extended cut released later on you all couldn’t wait to see, but for now this would be enough, for you and the thousands lined up to greet you all.

Once landed you three joined the rest of the cast back at the studio where Peter would be waiting for you all to speak to you all about what would be happening. For a greeting music and pictures were captured of you all varying from bubbly and ready to the groggiest Andy who had just gotten off his third flight this week. Though all that faded once the speech was through and Peter was done thanking you all for your patience and diligence to making this first installment so magical. Brunch followed after through a reel of footage he had put together of you all comprised of candid shots and images of you being helped into costumes or led between scenes on what to do. Stuck in the limbo of time until you would have to leave to get ready at your table with the Fellowship the suggestion was made, “We should get a tattoo.”

Around the table eight of the nine including Ian were all in with the exception of John, who said, “Now, I have made it this long in my life without a tattoo, and I am not caving into peer pressure now. Besides, after all that glue and course materials I doubt my skin could tolerate much more irritation between now and the next round of filming.” That seemed to deflate the mood until he reached over to pat your shoulder, “If anyone should be getting this tattoo it should be Gimli herself.” Grinning awkwardly at his offer the men smiled wider at his offer only to glance at your father with you as if to ask permission.

Joe, “Not anything massive I hope.”

Ian, “What about ‘nine’ for the Fellowship.”

Elijah, “The number?”

Dominic, “Doesn’t seem very special, just a nine.”

“Quenya, possibly?” You mentioned and that had the group looking at you, “The Elvish script, get the word ‘nine’ in it.”

Ian nodded, “Now that is sensible. Could be very discrete as well, and very beautiful, I believe the door at Moria was in Quenya script, very elegant.”

The plan was made and before anyone could chicken out a relative of a crew member with a tattoo parlor was called up to expect your group heading over. A quick stop to consult your books for the proper word had the men in agreement for the simple design. Exhaling softly you watched the artist copy up nine tracing slips of the word to add to each person and Sean broke the ice, “I’ll go first, because I am not going last.” Lifting his pant leg he said, “I think on my ankle would be fine.” Some shaving and a climb onto the table he was watched through the application and tattooing process and smiled as his little girl got a temporary copy of his tattoo on her ankle as well from the artist’s assistant at her curious question to get one too.

Billy as well went for his ankle, followed by Dominic, Viggo and Ian on their upper arms. Sean had the group chuckling and jeering at removing his shirt to get the back of his shoulder tattooed. Orlando chose his wrist seeing that you were still muddled on where to get it watching the others admiring their little wrap coated tattoos, save for Sean who couldn’t see his without a mirror.

Richard lowly said, “You could try your hip,” glancing up at him he said, “Just a simple cover with your waistband.”

Your father nodded, “I like that idea, nice and small all to yourself out of sight from cameras.”

Elijah next to you said, “How bout this, you get it on your hip I’ll do the same.” With a nod hoping to build your confidence he said, “Nice and subtle.”

With a nod you said, “Okay.”

Pulling out his wallet your father found a little slip of paper he’d used to trace the design on the center of the front of your helmet. Peter had tagged along and wanting to join in on the fun had convinced your father he should join in too.

Once Orlando was done you were next and flashed a grin to the artist who asked you, “Decided, Deary?”

You nodded and said, “On my hip,” brushing up your shirt on the right side under your navel in the dip by your pelvic bone with your waist band brushed down he nodded adding the design to your skin peeling back the wet transfer paper ensuring it wasn’t disturbed as you laid back on the table you hopped up onto. Keeping hold of your hand Orlando smirked through the picture captured of the moment muttering things threatening to make you giggle hinting after your months of wooing him on set that you’d get tattoos before sailing off to the Undying Lands. Chuckling himself Richard watched, patting your leg opposite the artist at work as the ink settled the well deserved marker into your skin soon coated with a pinch of goop and a corner of a clear wrap taped to stay in place.

Elijah was next saying, “Same spot,” flashing you a grin as Richard looped you in his arms kissing your forehead as John praised your choice and saying you handled the task in stride.

Peter came next and in his waiting your father had spoken to the assistant who had copied the sketch for him onto transfer paper he passed to the artist who nodded and smirked seeing the design coming up next. Peter was another to ink his upper arm and around the next sketch the others mingled seeing what was up next. Sitting on the table when it was his turn your father grinned saying, “Here, under my elbow.” Allowing the artist to line up the almost arrow head shaped emblem with what looked to be a Dwarf styled flower in the center of it above ‘Gimli’ in the proper font with your double sided axes for the I’s. The placement granting ample size to do the image justice and keep it close. Right in the spot where he nestled you each night as a baby and little girl sharing several tales, including Tolkien with you. It was larger than the other tattoos, closer to a Reeses Cup package, but if he had felt the urge he’d go for a full back piece to honor his time with you here.

“Dad,” you said moving closer to lean on his side stroking his free arm while he got the design inked into his arm, with purple added into the black outline of the flower over the golden name and axes. Everyone had to admire the design, including John, who mentally decided if he ever would get one for the role he would probably get that helmet emblem later on. Just below his elbow was coated in goop and wrap and once paid fully it was just close enough to head to your house to change for the big premier.

Mainly in suits the guys had an easier time. While digging into your shoe supply you pulled out tall black heels with thin strips coating the tops to go under your off the shoulder tan dress with a thin layer of black sheer material coated in embroidered black leaves with a chunky black rectangular tiled belt for your hips to under your bust. Perhaps a bit extravagant for your next to invisible role. However Peter asked you to dress up close to how you did for the Tony’s as there would be ample big names in the film world coming who would wish to speak to whomever he put in their path surely aiding you onto more projects when you surely won them over.

For miles the red carpet stretched and was lined with ample people in costume. Between your father and Richard you smiled for pictures watching while the main cast arrived and mingled with the fans waiting. Though once Peter had finished his posing he smiled moving over to you guiding the first of your people to meet your way, each of whom smirked in hearing who you had spent the most time portraying leaving them eager to see the final product for themselves. John was the first to join you in what would be the large ensemble photo.

Inside you went and near to the middle you were settled smiling all the way through the film after the couple speeches to open the event. From the Shire, where through the fireworks your face was spotted stirring up whispers of ‘Gimli’ upon seeing you front and center without a disguise, to Arwen’s entrance your fingers rose to your lips signaling Richard to take your hand folding his around it kissing your cheek as you remembered just what you had faced with your father’s being hurt and flown out through filming this chase. Every scene and in between all the way to Moria where even up to losing Gandalf you had to adore how your movement had shown through to the final edit. Lowly at your squeezing his hand and leaning into his side your father chuckled seeing himself. Bitter sweetly it came to an end though with Sam and Frodo off alone while the Three Hunters were off to save Merry and Pippen.

The break was brief soaking in the lavish celebration of the beginning to the epic trilogy still in the making. Parties and dinners filled the next two days and sore cheeked you napped through your flight back to England where more would be waiting for you. Already pictures of your place among the cast had made papers here leading to more whispers only added by your next dress, a bright yellow looser skirted gown with a fake diamond belt that matched the accent to the deep neckline feeding up to the strap holding the corseted top that hugged you to perfection. Another silver pair of shoes were found, this time heeled boots covering to your ankles and glittery to go with the white shimmery clutch you had found at a second hand shop no less fancy for it.

Peter had hoped for the image to be enough, and lit up in flashes in your brilliantly yellow dress with perfected curls brushed over one shoulder you screamed starlet of old, just right. He was up to something and by the way he seemed to speak about and with you to the heads sent from the production companies there was no doubt about it. Although as you were just a couple weeks from turning 22 it was hard for them to see you as anything more than a supporting actress for all you could tell just making Peter seem like he was ready to double down on his pressing. Mention of your roles from Richard however had them looking you over hearing the ties to more roles funded by their companies or those of friends. Just a mention of the amount of roles seemed to stir some curiosity at least Peter let fester in them luring stares your way and bringing more of the cast to murmur that they had caught onto a plot as well.

Twenty two as 2002 kicked off and stopping in New York you switched a few things in your bag and was off to catch the train to guide you up towards the bus that would take you across the border to Canada. The papers weren’t hard to settle, though the travel was tight. You couldn’t fly direct as the date had you landing no matter which airline you took before midnight leaving you to the extra stops. Yet huffing in a plop onto your bus seat the finish line was in sight and adding your headphones to distract yourself with some travel tunes on your walkman you readied to block out the world around you and calm down before finding your way to the hotel you were booked at. Already you missed Richard and while your father had headed to Texas for your aunt’s labor to send word on your new cousin whenever they decided to arrive you were traveling alone again.

Ample jobs while a good thing also grew to be a lonely one. Meaning more time apart for now until you could be more choosy on which role and location it could send you to. The only glimmer being that for how small your roles were it wouldn’t be time apart for long. Suddenly a slap on your arm had your eyes open and turn to the little boy with one of those goop hands on a strand of goop he was playing with. Peeling it off to his wide eyed stare covering his mouth you passed it back grinning at him then turned back to the window in his grinning rush away to keep playing. Another border crossing agency had stamped your passport and with a grin you readied to head to buy a ticket for another bus letting out by your hotel.

A bit remote the city the hotel was in happened to be at the opposite end of a long stretch of road looking to head into the hills stretching of forever in your view of it. Shouldering your bag ignoring the line of three taxis charging absurd amounts only to turn seeing a car pull up and the driver pop out looking at the picture he was given before heading over to you taking hold of your bag. “Apologies Miss Pear, there was a moose.”

You nodded and smirked following him to the back he opened then closed for you before adding your duffel bag to the trunk. Two weeks you would be here, most of the final week merely to wait until your flight to Maine would leave finding you in another hotel. The cabin like hotel you were let out at was more stunning and cozy inside than out. Almost eager to ensure your comfort the staff had you settled with ease into your little apartment like room.

Heavily you exhaled sitting down on the end of your bed only to roll your eyes at the clench of your stomach craving something more filling than the dollar bag of animal crackers you got from a vending machine at the border while the bus was being confirmed permission to cross. Hanging your head back you grumbled remembering the funds you had deposited from your porn man stash wouldn’t be fully available till morning in your bank account. An out of place knock at your door however had your eyes open and head lift to look at the door. Once on your feet you took a step at the triple knock following that tapped somewhat playfully.

A peek through the peep hole had you grinning and opening it to find Ian and Hugh there, both who hugged you tightly, with Ian saying, “There you are. I know you are hungry we are out to lunch and you are coming with us.”

Hugh said, “Just fly in?”

“Bus got in a bit ago.”

Hugh, “That a price issue?”

“No, timing, none of the flights fit in my visa timeline. I like the bus anyways. Only got slapped the once by little kid with one of those slime hand things. Good time, all around.”

The pair grinned at you stepping out with room key in hand you pocketed to join them. Nodding his head Hugh said, “Got a car outside.” Settling his hand on your upper back guiding you through the mildly busy street to the waiting car taking you to meet the main cast.

And by dinner you had found out your first tasks in your call sheet not growing more complex than filling an empty seat or few inches of screen time. Geeking out fully in your mini glimpse into the X-Men world, especially the jail cell for Magneto Ian gave you a full tour to before it was being disassembled followed by a stolen full tour of the school sets to get all the details the film wouldn’t show. No less bubbly for what little work you got to do on the film, however you made a tiny mark and enjoyed your free days before your flight to Maine.

Pt 24

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @rhaenaatargaryen, @anastasialovers

#Richard Armitage x Reader OC #lotr #filming #Meeting New People #Famous Friends #Premiers

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telltheworld-phff · 5 years

Text

Chapter 46, part I: My best friend’s wedding

Carol did have to thank Princess Sofia for the little push she had given her a couple weeks ago. She decided to be bold and to give Harry the chance he’s been patiently waiting for. She was more loving towards him, not that she wasn’t before, but she was loving in a way enough to show him, because she was still afraid of speaking about it, that they did go to a next level.

When they thought luck was finally getting on their side, their schedule became so packed and full that they barely had the chance to see each other. Harry had to go with his grandmother to a long visit up north, Carol’s work was going amazingly and she was hosting workshops and training programs. She started easy, with all the BBC employees in London. She had to adjust her hours because of the amount of shifts they had and it came out as a huge success. They were starting to create a magazine and everyone was contributing with ideas and photographs and contact information to some people they wanted to interview. That’s why her boss said they should expand to other countries.

And that’s when she thought she’d go mad.

And that’s when her already full schedule became even fuller.

Because she had barely spent any time at home.

Because she was receiving lots of angry texts from her sister, because she had missed all the fittings to her dress.

Because she had promised her mom, she’d be in Brazil for at least two weeks to help her with the last errands for the wedding.

She was frustrated because obviously she had too much on her plate, and that’s when she opened her e-mail and dreaded opening the message that said “Planned Trips”. With a sigh, she opened it and saw all those places she’d be able to visit, but at the same time she just wanted her home. She just wanted an opportunity to breathe.

Her schedule for the next two months was something like this:

April

2-6 Copenhagen, Denmark

10-12 Cologne, Germany

25-27 Paris, France

May

4-9 Warsaw, Poland

14-19 Stockholm, Sweden

23-27 Johannesburg, South Africa

It’s not like she didn’t like traveling (she still hadn’t left London to go anywhere), or that she didn’t like her job and to be traveling with something she had created. It was just...

It all was happening so fast, and even though she was spending a lot of time in her office, sometimes she still pinched herself to see if it wasn’t a dream that she was about to wake up from.

She loved everything that had happened in her life.

What she wasn’t comfortable with was the pace things were happening.

Just when she had settled down to the idea of living abroad, dating and prince, getting a master degree and finally totally catch up with her workplace and tasks, people started to add things to her ever growing piles of things she had to give attention to.

She closed the e-mail and took a breath. Freak out right now wouldn’t help her go anywhere.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds when a colleague knocked on her door and asked if she was ready to the conference call.

She wasn’t. But she lied and went anyway.

She had just arrived in London from Germany, letf her suitcase at home and went for something to dinner.

“Hey babe.” she said when he picked up his phone. She was at a Sainsbury’s buying her dinner. “How are you?”

He smiled when he heard the endearment.

“I’m better now. And you?”

“Tired. Bit stressed.” she said while getting a bottle of orange juice. “But tomorrow I’m working from home, so I have time to pack. I can’t believe the wedding is next Saturday.” she said after paying and walking back to her place. “My mom must be so disappointed because I couldn’t get there earlier.”

“I know! Seems like it was yesterday.” he said leaving the car in front of his cottage. He too was working all day at St. James. “And I already told you, Carol. Your mom understands that you didn’t go earlier because of your job. Your very good paying job.”

“It seems that you want to date me for my money, Harry. Do you? Do you want to date me because of my money?”

“You know I want to date you besides your money… Already told you that.”

They both laughed and she took a moment to appreciate his laugh.

“Is your dress ready?” This had become an inside joke because he knew she hadn’t been to any fittings.

“It is. But I don’t know if it’ll fit… might’ve lost a few pounds these days. Let’s not mention that to Hailey. She’s been complaining about the fact that my mom lives in another country and all the fittings went smoothly. I live in the same city and was always busy and never found time to go to a single one...” Carol laughed at that while walking towards her flat.

“Oh boy...” Harry said loosening his tie. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah… I mean. I’m not the bride. No one will be looking at me.”

“I will...” he answered.

“Well… you’re my date. You’re obliged to.” they both laughed while she opened her flat’s door.

“I miss you.” Harry said and she could actually feel how much he meant it.

“Me too...” she answered biting her lip.

“Can’t wait for this trip. Your work is stealing you way too much from me.” he said and actually pouted at that.

She laughed because she knew he was pouting. But she didn’t comment on his statement, just like he knew she wouldn’t.

“So I heard you and Sofia have been texting each other.” Harry said after a comfortable silence between them.

“We are!” Carol sounded excited. “She’s such a sweet person, and she’s giving me some advice. We are going to have lunch together when I’m in Stockholm next month.”

“I knew you’d like her. Carl Philip scored big when he married her.” Harry went to the kitchen to heat something for him to eat. “She’s someone you can trust. You know, in my circle you have to be careful with what you say or do. It’s sad that we can’t just make a friend at a park or bar, that we have to constantly watch our behavior. So I think it’s important for you to have someone you can trust on. She’ll help you a lot.”

“He did. Didn’t he?” Carol smiled. “But it’s weird that I’m developing a friendship with a princess.”

“You’re developing a relationship with a prince… Thought you’d be used by now.” Harry said and Carol went silent once again. “She’s the first of many, though.” They both laughed at that.

“Who knows?”.

She had checked her e-mail account twice while waiting to board the plane. She was still working, even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t. The plan was: get up early, go for a stroll at the park, go back home to pack and start working by 9. Then, she’d take her full lunch hour so she could get a manicure and then go back and work until 4:30. Then, it was vacation time for she had taken a few days off, on holidays. But obviously she woke up early and decided to check her e-mail. What was going to be just checking became full working and when she realized it was already mid-afternoon and she hadn’t done anything.

She answered to the last e-mail and started leisurely browsing.That’s when she saw the news:

“The Marshal of the Realm is delighted to announce that HRH Crown Princess Victoria gave birth to a son on April 10, 2018 at 5:48pm.

Both mother and child are in good health.”

She couldn’t help but be thrilled. Her Royal watching-heart was happy for the family and Swedish christenings were the most fun ones to watch.

She sent a text to Sofia, congratulating on her newborn nephew.

She felt her phone vibrating, but they were calling all passengers to board, so she didn’t see who was texting until she had found her seat. She had got two messages.

H: Safe trip, babe. See you in Brazil.

S: Thank you, Carol. He’s so cute. Also… a little secret: his name is Arthur. Xoxo

She took her time to answer to both of them, and then texted her mom saying she was on her way home.

The flight was uneventful but long and tiring. She arrived at Sao Paulo and had a connection to the other flight.

Her mom had decided to get married in Fernando de Noronha, one of Brazil’s postcard and one of the most wonderful places on earth. But since it was an island and also a natural reserve, getting there was difficult and even bureaucratic.

When she finally arrived in Noronha, several hours later, her mom and Flavio were waiting for her.

She received the most calming and comforting hug from her mom. That lasted forever and they both teared up.

In Portuguese there’s a word that means “I miss you”, and it’s called “Saudade”. In that moment both mother and daughter, that had never been this long apart were witnessing and feeling that saudade was painful and bittersweet.

After the compliments, they boarded the rental car and went to the hotel.

Carol was so tired and jet-lagged that she only wanted a shower and a bed to nap. She didn’t even wanted to go sightseeing just now. She needed rest and probably food. Brazilian food.

After she had her check-in and went to her bedroom, she found a giant bouquet of pink roses on her bed. She knew who had sent that before she got the card. And even in her state, she appreciated his gesture.

“When you get this bouquet, it’ll mean that we are only a couple hours apart. Hang in there, my love. I am on my way. -H.”

She smiled and smelled the flowers. She asked the reception for a vase and put them on water.

She took a shower and tried to wait for him awake. But her tiredness took the best of her and she fell asleep.

When Harry arrived at the hotel, he first asked for Maria and Flavio. He wanted to congratulate them and thank them for the invitation he didn’t think he’d get.

The hotel manager that was waiting for him on the reception told they were at the beach. And for him to get there he would have to simple walk towards the end of the lobby. Harry was impressed by the beauty of this north eastern Brazilian island.

He soon found Maria that just forgot he was a prince and embraced him like he was his son. She asked him a few things she had learned. She was fussing over him like a caring a protective mother and he had forgotten how this felt like.

Flavio also greeted him like part of the family and he even spotted Hailey on a jet-ski, playing with some unknown person.

“Where is she?” he asked as soon it was polite enough to change the subject.

“She’s taking a nap.” Flavio answered.

“I think you could also enjoy a nap.” Maria said. “Room 202.” she blinked at him.

He politely excused himself and went to the room. He asked his P.O’s to just leave him be for a couple of hours. The island was secure, the hotel was only booked with wedding guests and to be honest he didn’t give a damn about being spotted.

He only wanted to be with her.

With the woman that had turned his world upside town with just a smile.

The woman that would soon be, officially, his girlfriend.

He knocked on the door and no one answered. He tried to see if it was locked. It wasn’t.

As quietly as he could, he entered the bedroom and saw her sleeping peacefully on the bed.

He couldn’t help but smile.

He took of his shoes and shirt and laid beside her on the bed. He caressed her face and she smiled. He gently pulled her body towards his and his heart felt content when he noticed that even sleeping, her body recognized his. Because she snuggled on him without even noticing.

In that moment Harry knew for sure that he had made something right along the way. That the wait was worth it. Because Carol had said, without saying a single word, that she was his. In the most sincere way.

IT’S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE Y’ALL!!!!

I know it’s a short chapter and that you deserve more. I know. But I thought it was best for me to post this, and then work on the rest of it than to post it all God knows when.

Happy Holidays and thank you so much for reading my story and for sticking with me during the laptop break. It still isn’t fixed, but let’s not focus on it. Shall we?

The next chapter will probably come on the new year, but I’ll do my best to post it sooner.

As always, let me know your thoughts on this chapter and suggestions to the other ones.

#When you tell the world you're mine #Chapter: 46 #Prince Harry #Prince Harry Fanfic #Royal Family #Royal Fandom #PHFF #Fanfic #Fanction #Royal Fanfic #royal fanfictio #prince harry fanfiction

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