Sam: Hello, all! The fabulous Sam Nishimura here, with my ever faithful companion, the has-the-cutest-butt-in-the-known-universe, most brilliant archeologist Lara Croft here!
Lara: Sam...don't submit that.
Sam: But Laraaaa, your butt deserves media attention!
Lara:...If anyone has any inquiries, send them this way.
Tomb Raider now and then. Labeled archetypes for your convenience. It’s kind of amazing that no one else noticed this.
I see your protective Lara and raise you an over-protective Sam with separation anxiety.
Familiar places. White rooms. White lights. Sealed windows. I know she hates these places. I know they drive her crazy. She’d rather rot than be trapped in a place that takes your clothes and prods you with needles and dumbs you with drugs. She refuses them, most times. If she is slow, she will die. At least, that’s the way it is in her head.
"Get me out of here, Sam," she mutters through her hazy stupor. A nurse taps a syringe full of a tawny liquid and slides it into the piggyback port on her IV. It oozes into the wire like a watery slug, crawling into her veins.
trapped, lara/ sam
Five years after Sam’s possessed, Lara engages in a casual ritual with a Solarii.
Moves and moves. After many weeks, she had finally gotten a handle on his playing style. Always the Bishops first, and always three pawns. It was his starting position, which was strange but somehow conquering. A white Knight disappears from the tabletop.
“Damn,” he mutters softly, puling at the twine of his glove hem. The queen emerges silently from sleep, sliding into the depths of her own troop. Her own dies.
“Dangerous,” she smirks. It’s the first word she’s spoken since the beginning of the game. Predatorily, she circles her last bishop around the piece and pushes her bangs out of her eyes.
“Hair’s getting matted,” he mentions. “You should let me take you to the springs.”
Sam/Lara Sam tries to keep Lara in bed while she's sick
"What are you doing out of bed?" Frustration. Tired frustration.
"Working. Aulgood is expecting this research on the 8th and it’s already the-"
"Yes. the 1st. It’s the first of the month. You know this can wait." Sam curls her fingers into her own bangs and leans against the back of Lara’s chair, seizing her by the collar. And where the brunette could easily break free of the grip most days, tonight was not most days.
So, if the nipple piercing fic is on the same timeline as dorm room fics... how about a fic where Sam finds out Lara and Amanda are a thing? Maybe do the do when Sam's sleeping on the couch without realising that Sam is there/awake....
I roll over onto my stomach and groan, stretching vastly and rubbing my eyes boredly. I should be out right now, I should be off in the square dancing hip to hip with some big blonde Brit with bad teeth, but right now this is the only place that feels safe to me.
I saw Jason in the courtyard today. I don’t think he saw me, but nonetheless it sent me running here; I skipped half my classes and have been holed up at Lara’s place for five hours now, alternating between napping and watching National Geographic. Thank god she gave me the key after our trip to the cemetery.
Can you make more parts for the wrong dorm thing? It's really good
I’m surprised at how comfortable Sam seems in my home, especially the morning after. Again, she hasn’t scurried off in the night, and she isn’t embarrassed by her predicament in the least. In fact she seems quite at home on my couch, sprawled out onto all corners with one of her legs propped over the arm of the end. She sniffles in her sleep and turns to face the cushions.
I shouldn’t really harbor any feelings of any kind save for perhaps confusion and irritation for this girl. But in truth, having her here has been more pleasant than not and it means that the bloke she’s been hiding from can’t get to her.
Wrong dorm room seeeeequeeeeel
Dear Hot mystery girl,
Thanks for lending me the bed last night ;) Believe it or not you probably saved my skin back there. Idk, I might be back tonight depending on whether or not I get any weird texts from him. Or not, haha. I guess just lock the door and I’ll find another gorgeous stranger to crash with.
Ps: I used some of your shampoo and your eggs this morning. Hope you don’t mind!
Lara/Sam early uni days. Nipple piercing. ^___^
It’s a funny thing, Lara having a smart phone. She really didn’t know most of the functions and she rarely did anything beyond texting and email, but it’s so odd seeing someone who had so much fondness for the past actually have a thing like that.
I press the center button and flop down on my stomach, curling myself into our covers. Our? Is that a weird thing to say? There are two beds here, and I guess one of them is mine and one of them is hers, but lately I’ve been finding myself wandering in instinctively and spending my nights pressed up against her. It felt…nice.