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bechloeislegit · 3 years ago

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl - Chapter 1

A/N: First, I'd like to say Happy (Belated) Birthday, malexfaith (the actual day was April 14)! Second, I asked for an idea for a fic for her birthday, and this is one idea she sent me. It was originally going to be a one-shot, but it got away from me. (I hope y'all like it).

Award-winning singer Beca Mitchell has had a rough few months. Her bosses force her to take some time off to get herself together. They send her to a ranch where she meets Chloe Beale. They knew each other when they were children; can they be friends again or will a different kind of relationship develop?

Award-winning singer/songwriter Beca Mitchell stood in front of her two best friends, Stacie Conrad and Cynthia Rose (CR) Adams. The two women currently standing before Beca weren't just her friends; they worked for her. Stacie was her manager, and CR was her publicist.

"I'm not going!" Beca yelled at the two women, stomping her foot like a child.

"You have no choice!" Stacie yelled back. "Do I need to remind you why we are having this discussion in the first place?"

Three Days Earlier. . .

Beca hit the final note, and the crowd started cheering and applauding. Beca smiled out at the crowd as she waved and made her way off the stage.

"Beca! Beca! Beca!" The crowd chanted.

"Encore time, Beca," Stacie said.

"I need some water first," Beca said, trying to catch her breath.

"Here," Cynthia Rose said, handing Beca a bottle of water.

"Thanks," Beca said, chugging down half the bottle.

Beca wiped her face and ran back onto the stage. The band started playing, and the crowd started cheering.

Beca started singing and made her way over to the band. The bass player played a riff, and Beca was getting into it when she suddenly stopped and put a hand to her head. A loud "oh" went up from the crowd as Beca started to fall; the bass player grabbed Beca and eased her down to the ground. Several people came running from backstage.

CR yelled for someone to call 9-1-1 as Stacie hit her knees and grabbed Beca to her.

"Beca?" Stacie called her name as she lightly smacked her cheeks.

Beca did not respond, and Stacie yelled, "Someone call 9-1-1!"

"Already done," CR said as Stacie continued trying to rouse Beca.

An announcement was made asking that everyone leave the building in a calm and peaceful manner. The place emptied out for the most part; there were still a few who made their way close to the stage and stood watching what was happening. Security prevented them from getting onto the stage.

Beca came around about five minutes later, and a small cheer went up from the small crowd. They became quiet again when two EMTs arrived and made their way onto the stage, immediately going over to Beca.

"Want to tell me what happened?" one of the EMTs asked as he started to take Beca's vital signs.

"I'm not really sure," Beca said. "I was singing, and then I felt dizzy. Next thing I know, I'm waking up to this one," she points her thumb toward Stacie, "slapping my face."

"You passed out," Stacie said. "I was trying to wake you up."

"We should take her in so a doctor can check her out," the EMT told Stacie.

"I'll ride with her," Stacie said. "CR, you call Theo and let him know what's happened."

"Got it," CR said.

"I don't think I need to go to the hospital," Beca said.

"I don't care what you think you need, Beca," Stacie said, shaking her head. "I just knew something like this was going to happen."

The EMTs helped Beca up and onto the gurney. They proceeded to fasten the restraints to hold Beca securely. Stacie followed the EMTs out to the ambulance; Beca complained the entire way about not needing to go to the hospital.

"Shut up, Beca," Stacie said. She looked at the EMT and asked, "Is there any way you can knock her out again?"

"I heard that," Beca said.

"You were meant to," Stacie shot back.

Back to the present. . .

"You passed out because you were drunk and dehydrated," Stacie said.

"I didn't do anything!" Beca said, running a hand through her hair.

"Didn't do anything!" Stacie repeated. "Are you drunk right now?"

"Stacie, calm down," CR said. "Yelling at her is not helping anything."

"She is going to ruin us all," Stacie said. "I can't keep doing this with her. We're running out of favors to call in to keep her shenanigans out of the tabloids."

"I know," CR placated. "She just needs to understand that the studio isn't playing around this time."

"This time?" Beca questioned. "What did I supposedly do to make this time so special?"

"Have you totally forgotten the drunken brawl you started?" Stacie asked. "And let's not forget about the threesome thing. You're lucky you're not in jail."

"For what?" Beca asked. "We were in a bar, and they were both being served alcoholic drinks."

"Yeah, well, one of them was only seventeen," Stacie said. "The age of consent in California is eighteen. And don't think because you're a woman, you get a pass. Her parents have every right to have you charged with having sex with a minor. You're lucky they were more upset that the bartender was serving their underage daughter alcohol, or it could have been so much worse for you."

"I can't be blamed for not knowing how old she really was," Beca mumbled.

Stacie rubbed her temples and looked at Beca. "You'd better get your head on straight, or you're done."

"I'm still not going to wherever it is the studio wants to send me," Beca said. "I'm an adult, and they can't make me do anything I don't want to do!"

"Take it easy, Beca," CR said in a calmer voice. "I'm telling you this as your friend. You're under contract, so yes, they can make you do whatever they want you to."

"Wanna bet?" Beca said petulantly. "Tell the studio I don't want to go."

"The studio folks aren't asking you if you want to go," CR said, stepping into Beca's personal space. "They're telling you, you have to go. You need to take some time off to rest and get your head back in the game."

"I don't understand why," Beca said, lowering her voice and taking a step back.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stacie yelled. "You literally passed out during the encore at your concert because you were drunk, Beca. You're exhausted, and you're making bad decisions; really bad decisions."

"Not to mention the fact that your daddy issues are becoming a PR nightmare," CR added. "I know you were hoping your dad came back it was to make amends . . ."

"I don't want to talk about him," Beca interrupted, crossing her arms and glaring at Stacie and CR.

"Okay, you don't want to talk about your dad; that's fine," CR said. "Let's talk about how the studio is considering canceling your contract and letting you go."

"What?!"

"CR's right," Stacie confirmed. "If you don't take time off, you're done. Fired. No more music. No more VIP treatment. No more one-night stands with your fans. No more making money. Are you ready for that?"

"And, if Khalid fires you," CR said. "Don't count on another studio wanting to sign you."

Beca ran a hand through her hair and stared at Stacie and CR. She let out a loud sigh.

"Fine, I'll go."

"Good," Stacie and CR said simultaneously.

"But. . ."

"But. . . what?" CR asked hesitantly.

"But," Beca said, smirking. "You two have to go with me."

"Not gonna happen," CR immediately stated. "Denise is due in two weeks, so I can't go."

"I'll accept that as a good reason for you not going," Beca said and then turned to look at Stacie. "What about you?"

"I don't want to go," Stacie said.

"If not wanting to go isn't a good enough reason for me not to go," Beca said. "It's not a good enough reason for you either. So, if I don't get a choice in the matter, you don't get a choice. Make sure you tell the studio honchos if you don't go, I don't go, and let's see what happens then."

Beca turned and left the room.

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

A week later, Beca and Stacie were on a private jet heading to Denver, Colorado. Beca was sulking as Stacie calmly flipped through a magazine. Neither woman spoke, and they flew in relative silence for close to two hours before Beca broke that silence.

"I can't believe you caved with the studio and are making me do this," Beca huffed. "I thought you were my friend."

"I am your friend," Stacie said, continuing to flip the pages of the magazine. "But, I'm also your manager. I love you, but I love my job more, and I'm not going to do anything to lose you or my job. So, if I have to go to Denver and babysit you, then that's what I'm going to do."

"Why exactly were we going to Denver?" Beca asked. "Is it like a spa retreat or something?"

"Nope," Stacie said, setting her magazine aside while pulling something out of her bag. She held it out toward Beca. "We're going to be spending the next three weeks at a western-style dude ranch."

"A DUDE RANCH?" Beca screeched, causing Stacie to grimace. "Whose bright idea was that?"

"Theo's," Stacie replied with a shrug.

"I should have known," Beca snarled. "That guy never did like me." Beca sighed and asked, "What the fuck am I supposed to do there?"

"You're supposed to rest and relax," Stacie said. "And they run a dry ranch, so there won't be any booze to get you into trouble."

Beca scoffed, and Stacie handed a pamphlet over to Beca.

"Read the brochure if you want to know what you'll be doing," Stacie said.

Beca took the brochure and looked through it.

"The only form of transportation on the ranch is on horseback," Beca read aloud. "The only horses I want to deal with are the ones under a car's hood."

"What part of the only form of transportation is on horseback are you not understanding?" Stacie asked. "Get it through that thick skull of yours; there are no cars, trucks, or other motorized vehicles. Just horses. I'm personally looking forward to riding again."

"Good for you! But there's no way I'm riding one of those beasts," Beca grumbled. "I hate horses."

"Just give it a shot, Beca," Stacie said. "Horses will help calm you; you're supposed to try and relax. And, you could always save a horse and ride a cowboy instead. Or in your case, a cowgirl. But only if she's over eighteen."

"Haha," Beca scoffed. "I get ridden plenty, thank you very much."

"Groupies and one-night stands don't count," Stacie said. "You need to find someone to have an adult, meaningful relationship with."

"Says the woman who calls her vagina a hunter," Beca snorted. "When was the last time you had an adult meaningful relationship?"

"We're not talking about me," Stacie said. "Plus, I'm not under contract, so what I do is nobody's business but my own."

"I'm starting to regret signing a contract," Beca said. "Almost as much as I regret hiring a friend to be my manager."

Stacie shrugged and picked up another magazine. "You know you love me."

"We both know I do," Beca said, sighing. "But would it kill you to let me live my life the way I want to?"

"Probably not," Stacie shrugged. "But, it might kill you and I'm not willing to take that chance. Believe it or not, I actually do like having you around."

Beca was saved from responding as the Captain announced, "Ladies, please fasten your seatbelts. We're making our final approach into Denver and should be landing in about ten minutes."

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

A van from the ranch was waiting in the hangar when the jet came to a stop. The pilot opened the door and lowered the stairway. Stacie stepped out first to find a man looking, every bit the cowboy in blue jeans, checkered shirt, boots, and hat, staring up at her from the bottom.

"Miss Mitchell?" the cowboy asked, tipping his hat.

"That's her," Stacie replied and pointed over her shoulder.

Beca gave a small wave over Stacie's shoulder.

"Nice to meet you, ladies," the cowboy said. "My name is Tom and I'll be escorting you to the ranch. I'll get your bags while you make yourselves comfortable in the van."

Stacie got into the van and watched as Beca grabbed two of the bags and placed them in the van herself. Tom grabbed the remaining bags and placed them in the back. Tom opened the driver's door, removed his hat, and situated himself behind the wheel.

"The drive will take about forty-five minutes," Tom said, looking over his shoulder at the two women. "There's water in the cooler behind you. Help yourself."

Tom turned to face the front and started the van.

About an hour later, the van turned off the main road onto a dirt road. Beca sat up and started looking around. Off in the distance, she saw several buildings.

"Looks like something from an old Western movie," Beca said.

"I love the log cabin look," Stacie said, looking around.

"Will we be staying in a log cabin?" Beca asked Tom.

"Sort of," Tom said. "All our guests stay in individual one-room cabins. The main building houses the offices, gym, game room, kitchen, and dining room. Since this is our slow time, you'll both probably be given your own room."

"That actually sounds cool," Beca said.

Stacie lowered her window, saying "Look at all this wide-open space. And smell that clean, fresh air. We're definitely not in LA anymore."

"If I click my heels three times and say there's no place like home," Beca said. "Will I wake up from this nightmare and find myself in my own bed back in LA?"

"No," Stacie said. "And I can't believe Miss I Hate Movies, just used one to make a point."

Beca let out a snort and looked out her window.

"Those things are huge," Beca said, spying two horses being ridden by a man and a woman; they looked as if they were racing.

"Oh, wow," Stacie said, leering at the couple. "The scenery just keeps getting better."

The woman's hat flew off and red hair flew out behind her. Both riders stopped and the woman said something to the man that could not be heard in the car.

Beca's eyes widened in surprise when she saw the redhead's face as she turned and trotted back to where her hat landed. She was gorgeous.

"If she can ride a horse," Beca said, pointing at the female rider. "I may just have to take up riding myself. She makes it look hot."

"She's really pretty," Stacie said, looking the girl up and down.

"She sure is," Beca mumbled. "She kind of reminds me of someone I knew when I was a kid."

Beca and Stacie continued to watch the two riders.

"He's also really hot," Stacie said. "He can park his boots under my bed anytime."

"Ew, gross," Beca said. "Try and keep it in your pants, Stacie."

"I will if you will," Stacie said, laughing. "Who does the hot redhead remind you of?"

"Someone I knew from back when I lived in Atlanta," Beca responded. "We actually met in Kindergarten and became fast friends. I'd say she was my best friend from the time we met up until we were nine."

"What happened when you were nine?"

"Didn't I already tell you about that?" Beca asked; Stacie shook her head. Beca continued. "My grandmother got sick and my mom took me with her to Seattle to help her out. I was only supposed to be gone for the summer. But, my grandma died and left my mother her house. My mom and dad were going through a rough time and my mom decided to stay in Seattle and asked my dad to come there. He chose to stay in Atlanta and promised to come to visit, but he never did. They eventually divorced."

Stacie looked at Tom and asked, "Who are they?"

"That's Chicago and Chloe," Tom said, glancing over at the couple. "Chicago's dad owns this place and Chicago runs it. Chloe is a vet and takes care of the animals on the ranch."

"Chloe?" Beca repeated. "What's her last name?"

"Beale," Tom said as the van came to a stop in front of the main building.

"Oh, my God," Beca whispered as she continued watching the redhead. "I do know her! Or rather, I did."

"Are Chicago and Chloe a couple?" Stacie asked.

"God, no," Tom said, chuckling. "Chicago is married to Jessica and Chloe is his cousin."

"Good to know," Stacie murmured, looking at Beca watching the redhead.

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

Beca and Stacie stood next to each other and watched as Chicago and Chloe rode up to them and hopped off their horses. A woman walked out of the main building and stood next to Chicago. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

"Good afternoon, Miss Mitchell, Miss Conrad," Chicago said, removing his hat. "Welcome! My name is Chicago Walp and this is my wife, Jessica. We run this Ranch for my dad, so if you need anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask either one of us."

Chloe cleared her throat and Chicago smiled over at her.

"Sorry, Chlo," Chicago said, chuckling. "And this lovely young lady is Dr. Chloe Beale. She takes care of all the animals. She also gives riding lessons for anyone who wishes to learn."

"Please, we're just Beca and Stacie," Stacie said.

"I know who Beca is," Chloe said, smiling. "I was totes excited when I heard you were going to be a guest. I'm a big fan."

"Thank you," Beca said, looking down at the ground.

Tom was retrieving the luggage from the van and Chicago moved to help him.

"Please be careful with those two bags," Beca said, rushing over to them. "I'll take them."

Beca put one of the bags over her shoulder and pulled the other over to where Stacie was talking to Jessica and Chloe.

". . .said she'd love to learn to ride," Stacie was telling Jessica and Chloe.

"Who said that?" Beca asked. "It wasn't me. I hate horses; they're just huge, scary beasts."

Jessica and Chloe both laughed.

"Didn't you also say, if Chloe was riding that you might have to reconsider riding because she made riding a horse look hot?" Stacie asked, chuckling when Beca's face turned red.

"That's not-," Beca stuttered, looking from Stacie to Chloe and back again. "I, uh, didn't, um. Ugh! I hate you so much right now."

"It's okay, Beca," Chloe said, chuckling. "I think you'd look hot riding, too. And our horses are very tame. I'd be happy to teach you to ride and show you how tame they are."

Beca blinked a few times and stared at Chloe. Chloe looked at Beca and then at Stacie.

"I'm sure Beca would love that," Stacie said, causing Beca to snort.

"I might be game," Beca said. "If Stacie takes lessons, too."

"I already know how to ride," Stacie said, smirking. "But I'll go along with you so you don't get scared."

"Good," Jessica said. "Now that's settled, let's get you to your rooms, shall we?"

"Ladies, if you'll follow us please," Chicago said as he and Tom walked past them.

Beca and Stacie followed. When they entered the main building, Tom grabbed a luggage cart and he and Chicago set the luggage on it. Beca gently placed the two bags she was carrying onto the pile and stepped back.

"Let's get you checked in," Jessica said, leading the way over to the registration desk. "Thanks, Tom, Chicago."

"No problem, babe," Chicago said, shooting Jessica a smile.

"You're welcome," Tom said. He tipped his hat at Beca and Stacie, and said, "Enjoy your stay, ladies."

"Thanks, Tom," Stacie said, winking at him.

Tom smiled at her before turning and exiting the building behind Chicago. Chloe walked over and stood by the desk; she couldn't stop looking at Beca. Beca looked back at her, blushing and looking away when Chloe smiled at her.

Jessica got Beca and Stacie checked in and grabbed their room keys, handing them to Chloe.

"Chloe, would you like to show Beca and Stacie to their cabins?"

"I'd love to," Chloe said excitedly, grabbing the keys. "Thanks, Jess."

Jessica winked at her and Chloe walked over to the luggage cart. She looked back at Beca and Stacie.

"If you ladies will follow me," Chloe said as she started pushing the cart.

Stacie nudged Beca's shoulder when she noticed Beca looking at Chloe's ass.

"Rein it in, Beca," Stacie whispered. "A bit of discretion wouldn't kill you."

Beca blushed and moved her eyes up to stare at the back of Chloe's head.

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

Chloe took the cart outside and started toward a row of cabins. The path was wooden and stretched from the main building around to all the cabins. Chloe stopped at Cabin #4 and unlocked the door. She left the luggage cart outside and stepped through the doorway. Beca and Stacie followed her inside.

"This is your cabin, Miss Mitchell," Chloe said, waving an arm around the room. "Your bathroom is through that door over there."

Beca looked to where Chloe was pointing and nodded her head in acknowledgment.

"Please call me Beca," Beca told Chloe as she looked around the room.

"Okay," Chloe said, stepping back out the door. "Beca, if you'll point out your luggage I'll bring it in for you."

Chloe reached for a bag and Beca stopped her, saying, "I got it."

Beca grabbed her laptop case and another case, and took her cases over to the desk, and started to unpack them.

"No offense," Stacie told Chloe. "She's just very particular about people touching her equipment."

"Understandable," Chloe said. "I'm sure it's very expensive. What else is hers?"

"I'll help you with them," Stacie said. "This one stays here and that one there." Stacie grabbed one of the suitcases and pointed at the other.

The bags were placed near the bed and Chloe walked over to the wall, getting both Beca and Stacie's attention. She placed her hand on the thermostat and explained, "Each cabin has its own thermostat. You can control both the heat and air conditioning to your liking. It's usually mild during the day, but the temperatures drop somewhat at night. If you need an extra blanket or pillow, you can find them in the closet next to the bathroom. That's also where we keep everything you'll need for the bathroom, like towels and soap, among other things. If there's something you need and can't find, just pick up the phone and dial star zero one. That rings at the front desk in the main cabin. Someone is always there 24/7. Or you can dial star zero three and reach me; I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have."

"Thank you, Chloe," Beca said.

"Stacie," Chloe said, tearing her gaze away from Beca to look at Stacie. "You'll be right next door in cabin #5. The rooms are set up in the exact same way. Do you have any questions? Or need anything?"

"I'm starting to get a bit hungry," Stacie said. "What time does dinner start being served?"

"Oh," Chloe said as she walked over to the desk and pulled a folder out of the drawer. "There's a weekly schedule of activities and a menu for all meals inside this folder. It's updated every Sunday night. I know tonight we're having a barbecue with all the fixin's. You'll get a chance to meet some of the staff as well as the other guests." She glanced at her watch. "Aubrey will probably be ringing the dinner bell shortly."

"Who's Aubrey?" Stacie asked.

"She's my best friend," Chloe responded. "She's also the cook. You'll love everything she makes; I know I do."

"I'd like to unpack before dinner," Stacie said. "Beca, I'll swing by and get you when the dinner bell sounds. Okay?"

"Okay," Beca said. "I'll unpack and freshen up a bit."

"Great," Chloe said. "Here's your room key. We have a master key to all the rooms if you should lose or misplace it."

"Thanks again, Chloe," Beca said, taking the key.

"Stacie," Chloe said, turning toward her. "Let's get you to your room."

Stacie followed Chloe out the door. She took a deep breath. "Something smells good!"

"It's the meat from the grill."

"Whatever it is, it smells delicious."

"The meats are great, but it's the sides that make the meal for me. I'm sure Aubrey made potato salad, pasta salad, as well as a vegetable salad. Corn on the cob and baked beans for sure, and several desserts."

"Sounds like quite the feast," Stacie said.

Chloe pushed the luggage rack to the next cabin and helped Stacie take her bags inside.

"Here's your key," Chloe said as she handed the key to Stacie.

"Thank you, Chloe," Stacie said.

"You're welcome. I'll see you and Beca at dinner."

Chloe left and was surprised to see Beca looking out her door.

"Did you need something, Beca?"

"I was wondering if you had a minute?"

"Um, sure."

Beca stood aside and let Chloe enter the cabin. Chloe walked over to the desk chair and sat down.

Beca started pacing back and forth. Chloe watched her for a moment.

"So, um, what can I do for you, Beca?"

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

About ten minutes after Chloe left her, Stacie was startled by a sudden loud clanging sound. Realizing it must be the dinner bell, she laughed quietly to herself and shook her head.

It was only a few minutes later that Stacie grabbed her room key and left her cabin. Beca and Chloe were coming out of Beca's room as Stacie reached it.

"Oh, hey, Chloe," Stacie said, surprised to see her. "I wasn't expecting to see you with Beca."

"Beca wanted to know about the riding lessons," Chloe said. "You two have a lesson tomorrow morning at ten."

"We do?"

"I told you, Stacie," Beca said. "If I'm going to take lessons, so are you."

"And I told you, I already know how to ride," Stacie said. "Besides, will you even be up before ten?"

"Don't worry about me," Beca said, glaring at her. "I'll be up in plenty of time."

Stacie ignored Beca's glare and looked her up and down.

"Loving the cowgirl look, Beca," Stacie said. "I'm guessing you only brought your plaid shirts and jeans without knowing you'd end up on a ranch."

"I think she looks adorable," Chloe said, causing Beca's cheeks to redden.

"I'm not adorable," Beca mumbled.

"She does love her plaid shirts and jeans," Stacie said.

"What's wrong with that?" Beca asked. "They are good for any occasion."

Stacie snorted as she looked out over at the tables that were set up for the cookout.

"That looks like a lot of food," Stacie said. "How many guests do you have?"

"Including you and Beca, we have eight guests," Jessica's voice said from behind them. "And all the staffs' meals are provided. Come with me and I'll introduce you to some of the other people who work here."

Beca and Stacie followed Jessica and Chloe over to the huge grill that was being manned by two of the cowboys.

"Guys," Jessica calls out, getting their attention. "I'd like you to meet some VIPs that will be with us for the next three weeks."

The two men turned to look at Beca and Stacie. One had dark brown hair and was a couple of inches taller than Stacie; the other's hair was a lighter brown and he was about Stacie's height. They both have boyish faces and grinned at the two women.

"I know her," the taller of the two said, pointing toward Beca.

"No, you don't," Beca said, shaking her head. "He doesn't."

#bechloe fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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pastelwitchling · 4 years ago

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“I didn’t even know this kinda place could exist in this town,” Michael said, looking up at the grand ballroom ceiling, small silver stones embedded into the cream marble walls, the silver railings and ceiling-high windows that led out onto four balconies.

The guests of the ballroom, all in suits and floor-length dresses, chatted with their small groups, a glass of wine or champagne in their hands. But there was one particular guest Michael and his friends were most interested in; Bo Swindell. Or, as Alex had uncovered him to be last week, a Project Shepherd agent who they suspected ran another Caulfield facility just outside of Roswell.

Isobel scoffed, brushing something off her white sleeve, her pantsuit immaculate and making her stand out like a diamond amongst the hoards.

“Just because some people don’t mind having their dinner on hay-covered grounds doesn’t mean everyone else is inclined to follow their example,” she said. “Soak it in, Michael. Smell that Cartier and Armani?”

“It’s suffocating.”

“It’s taste.”

“Leave him alone,” Liz said, amused. Unlike Isobel, she didn’t seem to realize the effect she had in her long black dress. She patted his shoulder proudly. “Mikey actually dressed up for this!”

“Ugh,” Isobel said with a roll of her eyes. But Michael was inclined to agree with Liz.

His dark jacket thrown over the nicest shirt he had and dark jeans were about as prim and proper as he was going to get.

“It’s cowboy elegant,” Alex assured her from where he stood against the wall, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

It wasn’t working. Even hiding among the champagne glasses, Alex attracted the raised brow or the interested smirk or the blatant mental undressing from every other guest that passed them by. It annoyed Michael, but he couldn’t blame them.

The last time he’d seen Alex in a suit was at Noah’s funeral, and he’d been sufficiently drunk and pissed off enough then to push past the sheer want and settle on the fury. Alex had been everything he’d wanted and was another reminder of something else he was no longer allowed to have. So he’d made the perfect target for Michael’s anger.

Now, as Alex stood there looking like a dream in his deep gray blazer and slightly tousled hair from having run an anxious hand through it, he was still someone Michael couldn’t have, but Forrest was away at a conference and it made things . . . different. Alex’s boyfriend wasn’t here, and Michael was, and to stand so close to him without the reminder that he was taken shoved down his throat, Michael couldn’t help but shift on the marble tiles, scooting closer to him.

Alex glanced at him, and said nothing.

Because it doesn’t make a difference to him how you feel, a voice in his head taunted. He has a boyfriend now. You’ve missed your chance.

Michael silenced it, moving closer to Alex against the wall. It helped him breathe better.

“Is everyone ready for what comes next?” Max asked under his breath, plastering on a polite smile to another couple as they passed.

Alex straightened up off the wall with a sigh. He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “Should be fun.”

Michael’s blood boiled at the thought of what his airman was about to do. Bo Swindell had been a veteran, according to Alex’s research, but had been notorious for disobeying orders, risking the lives of his teammates by deviating from strategy on the battlefield, and being caught with his briefs around his ankles with more than a few men in the base storage closet. Needless to say, Swindell had been officially dishonorably discharged.

“My dad must’ve hated everything about him,” Alex had said with disgust as he’d read the file. “But he was useful and willing to do anything for money. That must’ve been good enough to take him on.”

“Well,” Max had said at the time, crossing his arms, “how do we get close to somebody like that?”

Alex had sighed grimly, like he’d decided on a plan the second he’d opened the file. “If he has a thing for male soldiers . . .”

Michael had hated the idea, had objected to it at once, but it was a matter of reason and logic. Alex was the handsomest soldier there was (Michael was not being subjective; Alex’s good looks were a conclusive fact), and if this guy would take an interest in anyone, it would be him.

“You don’t have to do this, Alex,” Michael insisted anyway, holding Alex’s gaze. “You can still back out.”

Alex looked away. “I can handle it, Guerin. I’m tougher than you think I am.”

Michael frowned. “I – Alex, that’s not what I –”

“Come on, Is,” Alex offered Isobel his hand once the quartet started. Not looking any more eager at the idea, Isobel put her hand in Alex’s with an apologetic look at Michael.

As they walked off, Liz put a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“He’ll be fine,” she said, though her worried eyes followed Alex. “He’s done worse.”

Michael saw Bo’s eyes catch Alex’s figure as he passed and linger on him. He clenched his jaw. “Has he?”

The music started in earnest and Michael stood to the side as Liz took Max’s elbow and he led her out onto the dance floor. As couples twirled around each other, Michael kept to the wall, glaring as Swindell’s eyes kept flitting to Alex, clearly uninterested in whatever the woman in front of him was discussing.

Soon enough, he would be excusing himself and approach Alex. He would smile in that hungry, vicious way he was now, and he would . . . well, the thought of what he might do had Michael’s power rising to the surface. The champagne glasses quivered on the table beside him before Michael managed to forcefully shove his anger down.

He turned away, grabbing a glass and downing it in one gulp, hoping it would be enough to calm his thoughts. It wasn’t. Alex looked too good, his shoulders too straight and tense, his smile at Isobel small, as if he was forcing himself not to be sick with what was to come. He didn’t want to do this, Michael could tell, but he’d convinced himself he had to. He’d convinced them all he had to.

Michael considered him, a very bad idea forming in his head. Did that deter him? After downing a second glass of champagne, no, it didn’t.

He weaved through the other guests, his intention making his steps light and quick, and he came up behind Alex. He exhaled sharply, forcing his nerves out in one breath, and tapped the airman’s shoulder.

Alex turned, the tension in his shoulders fading ever so slightly at the sight of Michael. He glanced at Swindell who was still watching them.

Michael held out a hand. “May I have this dance?”

Alex looked back at Isobel whose eyes were narrowed at Michael, as if trying to read his thoughts.

“Uh –” Alex said, “Guerin –”

“Might as well let everyone know what you’re into,” Michael cut him off, his heart climbing into his throat the longer he stood there. His smirk faltered with every second he went unanswered.

Isobel bit her lower lip. “Might be a good idea, Alex,” she said, nudging Alex’s back slightly. She smiled discreetly at Michael before walking away and disappearing into the crowd, leaving them both standing there awkwardly.

His cheeks red and his eyes wandering, like they did when he was the center of attention and hating it, Alex took Michael’s hand. He looked down as Michael pulled him in.

“What’re you doing?” Alex muttered, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“Dancing with you,” Michael said, and proved his point by wrapping an arm around Alex’s waist, pulling their bodies flush together. Alex gasped and looked up, startled. Once Michael caught his eyes, the rest of the ballroom vanished, and neither of them could look anywhere else.

Michael stretched his fingers out against Alex’s back, imagining the warm, naked skin beneath the soft fabric. Alex’s hand tightened in his as Michael rested their foreheads together.

“I miss you,” he breathed before he could help it, and unable to regret the words.

“You can’t say that,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning Michael’s lips.

Michael leaned in, his lips brushing Alex’s cheek. “But you like it, don’t you?”

Alex didn’t move away as he stammered, “Y-You shouldn’t be here, I need to – to find . . .”

Michael brought his other arm down to hug Alex’s waist, keeping them as close as possible as they swayed on the spot. Alex’s hand came up his arm and settled on his other shoulder, and Michael felt the tension in his body fade away almost completely as he was engulfed in Alex’s warmth, his voice, his intoxicating vanilla scent.

“Hmm?”

“Uh . . .” Alex’s brows furrowed, frustrated, even as his eyes fell to Michael’s lips. “I . . . need to . . . find . . .”

Michael smiled lazily. So this was the effect he had on the brilliant military captain. The effect he still had.

Alex shut his eyes tight. “Guerin, we’re on a mission here.”

Michael’s smile fell away. He swallowed. “I can’t stomach the idea of that asshole coming near you, Alex,” he confessed quietly, and Alex met his eyes. “If he touches you –”

“He won’t,” Alex assured him. “I just need to get close enough to plant the listening device. And then we’re done.”

“Yeah?” Michael asked, and raised one hand to cup Alex’s jaw. He didn’t know if it was because he could feel Alex’s heart race against his own chest, or the champagne he’d had, or because Alex was looking at him with those beautiful dark eyes like he wasn’t dating someone else, like Michael had never betrayed him, like they’d always been together, but Michael felt the truth pour out of him, unable and unwilling to stop it.

“And after that?” he said, his thumb brushing Alex’s cheek. “What happens? You go back to Forrest?”

Alex clenched his jaw and looked away. “He’s my boyfriend, Guerin.”

Michael hated that word. He hated that it wasn’t about him. He lifted Alex’s chin with his fingers, meeting his eyes. His open mouth hovered over Alex’s lips. “I don’t care,” he breathed.

Alex’s hands curled to fists against his chest. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” he whispered, and reveled in the flutter of Alex’s eyes, in the way his body instinctively curled against Michael’s. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

Michael traced Alex’s jaw with his fingers, his heart hammering. He imagined following the trail with his tongue, the slight roughness of Alex’s stubble against his lips as his other hand ran up and down the airman’s spine.

“You like it when I touch you?” he said into Alex’s ear. “Like it better than anybody else’s hands?”

Alex bit his lower lip as Michael moved closer, his mouth open and more than willing. It’s the champagne, Michael told himself, and knew he was a liar with every word. It was Alex, his touch, his body, his beauty, his scent. Michael didn’t want anyone to come near him without knowing that he was under his protection, that someone fiercely loved him and wouldn’t let him go.

Michael’s fingers came down Alex’s neck, down the soft pulse of his heavy breaths. His chest rose and fell against Michael’s, his eyes hooded and dazed.

If Michael ever wanted to kiss him again, it would have to be now. And he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to pull him into the fancy bathrooms, slip a hand under his shirt, taste his lips, his tongue, his chest, stomach, the space between his legs. He wanted to whisper his worship into the airman’s damp skin, hear his breathy moans in his ear, his pleas. He wanted to feel Alex’s hand in his curls, tugging at the roots, his other on Michael’s hip, pulling him in deeper, deeper, deeper –

“Stop,” Alex breathed, his forehead falling from Michael’s and onto his shoulder, his hands gripping Michael’s arms painfully tight, waking him from his thoughts. “Stop, stop, stop.”

The two panted against each other silently, no longer moving to the music as couples twirled around them. Michael gripped Alex’s waist tightly, keeping him close as he came back to his surroundings, his face heated and his heart thudding painfully against his ribs. He realized he was hard.

“I – I –” he stammered, moving back, but Alex stayed pressed against him.

“Don’t,” he warned quietly. “It’ll show, just – don’t move.”

So Michael stayed still, keeping his hold on Alex as he forced his breaths deeper. Images of himself and Alex in the bathroom, on Alex’s living room couch, or in Michael’s bed – they kept coming back, each more vivid than the last, each forcing Michael to push them back again and replace them with something less enticing.

The champagne was beginning to wear off quickly, and Michael had only enough time to press his nose to Alex’s shoulder and inhale the clean smell of his suit before embarrassment took over and he had to look anywhere else.

“I’m – uh –”

“Don’t,” Alex said and held him tighter, more desperately, and Michael had to remember that it was for discretion and nothing more.

When Michael’s hard-on faded, Alex pull back, his eyes on Michael’s chest instead of his eyes. Michael tried not to feel like an idiot, but he’d gotten hard in the middle of a ballroom while he held his ex who was already dating someone else, and it was a little difficult.

Then Alex said –

“I want to kiss you.” Michael looked to him with wide eyes, and was met with Alex’s dark, piercing gaze. He bit his lower lip, pained as he ran a hand through Michael’s curls in a way that made Michael’s toes curl and his heart stutter. “So badly.”

Michael leaned in, entranced, eager. “Y-Yeah?”

Alex visibly swallowed. “So I guess we’re both the bad guy.”

Michael faltered. Alex had put himself down for being a monster so many times. And every time, Michael had kept silent because he didn’t think any contradiction or praise he had would be taken seriously or with any gratitude. This, he thought, was one time too many.

He leaned in, his lips brushing Alex’s ear. “Not you, Private,” he whispered. “Not like this.”

He pulled back enough to look him in the eyes, Alex’s brows pinched, confused. Michael cupped his jaw.

“But if you’re still dating Forrest tomorrow,” he growled, and brushed his thumb against Alex’s lips, “I will be the bad guy.”

He let Alex go, charged and wanting, and walked back to the drinks table where Isobel stood with a glass of her own. She raised a knowing brow at him as he leaned against the wall, his hands clenched in his pockets, his eyes on Alex.

“Whatever you did,” Isobel muttered over her drink, “it worked.”

Michael watched with barely contained rage as Swindell seized his chance and made his way to Alex before anybody else could. Alex seemed to come back to himself as Swindell made his introduction. His shoulders straightened and he plastered on a smile that might’ve looked real to anyone who didn’t know him.

Michael hummed. Isobel nudged his arm with hers.

“So,” she said, “you let him go a lot more easily than I thought you would.”

He scoffed bitterly, counting down the seconds as Alex played out his part with all the precision and calculation of the hacker he was.

“I’m coming back for him,” he said, a promise to himself as Alex’s dark eyes glanced at him. “No one is taking him away from me again.”

***

Just a small, fun fic based on the recent jeanine and malex photo 💕

I made a twitter and IG, by the way, if anyone’s interested in following ❤

#michael guerin #alex manes #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #michael vlamis #tyler blackburn

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tlou-1 · 4 years ago

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Joel x Reader - Home (Chapter 9)

Note - This chapter is bit of a long one (sorry) and the songs mentioned are Give In to Me from Country Strong and Take on Me by Aha.

On a cool Autumn afternoon, you are sat on the sofa of Joel’s house playing guitar with Ellie. She is most extraordinary kid you had came across and you had come to love her. From the witty remarks and one liners, to the enthusiasm when she spoke about her comics or something new she had learned and wanted to share with you and Joel.

Joel arrives home and is kicking off his boots “That’s starting to sound a lot better”

“Well between you and Ellie, I have got two pretty good teachers.” You say passing the guitar back to Ellie “Here you go kiddo, I’ve got to head”.

She sighs “Okay but we will see you later at the Tipsy Bison”. You nod to her silently smiling and remind her to get there for seven.

“Where you off to?” Joel asks. He had only just got back from a patrol, but you also had left Bruce in the house for too long before your shift tonight.

“Can’t you just bring him with you next time?” he asks, you can hear in his voice he is disappointed to not get to spend some time with you.

“I could, I never thought but I would need to bring all his thi-“” Joel cut you off before you can finish.

“Well why don’t you just bring him, his stuff and all of your stuff here…. And keep it here”

“Keep it here? Joel Miller are you asking me to move in with you” you playfully pinch at his hip but then you can see, he is serious.

“Can I think on it for a bit? It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just I have lived in that house for a long time on my own – I just need” but Joel interrupts you again. “Hey, hey darlin” he begins in a soothing tone, smoothing his hands over your hair, taking your head in his hands. “Don’t worry, take as long as you need. I aint going anywhere”. He presses a light kiss to the top of your head.

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Its just after seven when Joel and Ellie arrive at the bar, Ellie pulling Joel by the hand in a hurry in front of him. They take two seats and the bar, “and what can I get for you two this evening?” you chirp. Ellie orders an orange juice and Joel a beer but when you present him with a whiskey, he looks confused “I’m sorry Y/N to tell you this but that aint a beer” he says in a sarcastic tone.

“I know that I just think you might need it” you bat back as you push the glass closer to him. “Alright between Ellie dragging me here and you acting odd, what’s going on?” He gruff leaning back into the chair looking between you and Ellie, looking to see who would break first, you caved. Heading towards the wall where an array of musical instruments are secured to the wall, you pull a guitar from its stand and gesture to Joel to take it.

“You said when you were younger you always wanted to be a country singer. Now I know it’s not exactly the Grand Ole Opry in here, but I do think these folks would like to hear a bit of music, other than old Seth banging a tune out on the banjo” you smile. Joel begins to protest but you shove the guitar in his hands and fill his glass once more. “A bit of dutch courage and go get up there cowboy”. Ellie is at the back of Joel pushing him toward the front of the bar where one microphone sits. “God you’re a stubborn women” he sighs, looking at you and Ellie defeatedly.

“I thought that’s what you like about me”

“Mhm – well not when its used against me” he laughs but stops as his mind seems to conjuring up some plan, “on the other hand. I do have an idea, don’t get mad and just remember I love you”.

“Evening folks – tonight I thought we could have a bit of music. Now I can play a bit of the guitar but there is a young woman in here who I think sings pretty good. Christ I think she’s something else if I am being honest. Y/N get yourself away from the bar and up here” Joel calls loudly from the microphone. This had totally and completely back fired and he was using flattery to make it worse. The entire bar begins to join in trying to coax you into signing. Molly and Ellie are cheering, Jesse is laughing knowing how uncomfortable you look, Tommy and Maria tap you on the shoulder “You can’t just leave the poor bastard standing up there” laughs Tommy. ‘You could’ you think to yourself.

You give everyone the biggest eye roll and fling your towel down annoyed “Fine – alright, alright! I’ll sing a damn song”. Joel is smiling cheekily at you when you stand next to him, only a small amount of space between you and a microphone. “I can see why you decided that was a good time to tell me you loved me for the first time. It’s the only reason I haven’t smashed that guitar over your head”. Joel lets his head back and laughs, he got you this time. A couple seconds later he composes himself and he begins to sing his part.

“I’m gonna wear you down

I'm gonna make you see

I'm gonna get to you

You're gonna give into me

I'm gonna burn for you

You're gonna melt for me

Come on, come on

Give into me”

You feel your stomach do a double flip, a mixture of nerves and the way this man was looking at you. You seemed to bring out the best in each other, he would never have done this before, and you would never have done it on your own. It would have seemed so stupid with everything going on beyond the gates of Jackson but you seemed to be able to stop and enjoy the simple even frivolous things since meeting Joel. It must be what joy felt like you thought after years of forgetting to feel it. You move in closer to the mic, your faces so close, to sing the next lines together.

“You're gonna take my hand

Whisper the sweetest words

And if you're ever sad

I'll make you laugh

I’ll chase the hurt

The song comes to an end, everyone gives a round of applause and you take an over-the-top bow. You make your way back to the bar and Joel begins to follow you when you stop in your tracks “and just where do you think your going?” you ask him, he still has the pick of his guitar in between his teeth and can’t respond. “I still want to watch you sing a song from the bar like I had planned”. You hear him try muttering something but its incoherent. You take your usual spot behind the bar as Tommy passes you a whiskey “I think you earned this’ he chuckles in his seat. “You think?” you laugh. Joel clears his throat, and you snap your attention back to him.

“Well let’s try something maybe some of us older ones will know” Joel scratches the back of his neck looking viably more uncomfortable without you there. You catch his eyes and silently mouth the words to him across the room “I love you”. He begins to play a familiar song but he has slowed it down, made it gentler. ‘Take on me by Aha” you think to yourself. Once he finishes everyone gives an applause and Joel couldn’t get to the back of the room quick enough. For spending his childhood dreaming of being a singer, he had become rather bashful in his adult years.

Joel heads behind the bar and passes the guitar to you, “Thank you” he says as you reach to hang it back on the wall “No, No thank you for keeping us folks entertained for the evening” you laughs trying goad him.

“Joel can you teach me that song you just played! I’d like to play it for Dina and my friends” Ellie smiles from her seat.

“Sure thing Kiddo” he chirps as he slings his arm around your shoulder, it was very rare you ever showed each other affection in public but after that performance in front of everyone it didn’t really matter. People could see you were together; they could see the way you looked at each other. You move to face him and lift his other arm around you so as that Joel is wrapped around you.

“I’ll start tomorrow” you smile at him, but he just looks confused

“You’ll start what?” He titles his head

“Moving my stuff across, I’ll start tomorrow. If you’ll still take me and Bruce” you smile warmly. Joel kisses you tenderly

“Baby I wanted you to live with us weeks ago” he laughs and kisses you on top of your head before moving closer to your ear so only you could hear him “and I meant it – I love you”.

“Would you to get a room” Ellie holds her hand up to try cover the sight of you both.

#TLOU #TLOU part 2 #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller Imagine #Joel Miller Series #Joel Miller Smut #Joel Miller Fluff #tlou p2 #The Last of Us #tlou fanfic #tlou fanart #The Last of Us Fanfic #tlou part 2 fanfic #tlou2 fanfic #The Last of Us part ii icons

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ragrottend0ll · 4 years ago

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School Crush (Vinira Fanfic)

(In december I posted this little idea and now I decided to started it, hope you enjoy and forgive the misspelling, english isn’t my first lenguage)

Chapter one:

‘‘I like girls’’. Emira started.

‘‘I like girls, too’’. Amity seconded after a few seconds of silence.

‘‘Ok...’‘. Alador responded a little shook. ‘‘I-- Wow, yeah, ok.’’

‘‘Is that all you are gonna say, dad? Really?’’. Asked Emira. She didn’t spend seven years in the closet for just to get an ok.

Alador shruged a little. ‘’Congratulations...?’’

‘‘Fine, that’s better’‘.

The Blight siblings and Alador were hanging out. This was something that have been happening some time ago. At first it started as a sisters’ night, just for Amity and Emira, but then Edric discovered this and was begging, crying and basically annoying his sisters for let him ‘’in’’.

He finally achived it.

So, every friday night, while their parents were in important meetings or fancy restaurants, the three would reunited in Emiras’s room and just talk. Sometimes they watched a series or practice some makeup. Even tried on clothes from either Edric or Emira. Sometimes they would sing a karaoke or just talk about their day, their friends, Luz, and throw bullshit of their parents.

They didn’t need to worry about the mansion’s staff. They all like them and have never said something bad of them to their parents. Plus, some have sewn up mouths so... Anyway.

What they did not expected was that, one night, their father would return early.

Alador was honestly tired. He have been awake for three days straight and needed some sleep. Even when his lovely wife, Odalia, told/demanded him to stay awake and attend another important meeting, he denied. Alador was sure that, if he stayed awake for another hour, his body will just collapse.

When he arrive to the mansion, the buttler (he never can remember his name, really) was there and took his coat. Alador didn’t wait more and went upstairs. The Bight manor was splendant, huge and, now that he was walking alone through the corridors full of old portraits in the middle of the night, he would consider it spooky.

The portraits gave him chills in his back. He felt like the eyes of his wife’s ancestors were following him in every step he took.

‘‘I wouldn’t be surprise’‘, Alador tought. ‘‘They may be haunted for real’’.

‘‘I should probably ask Odalia about it’’.

Alador walked to his bedroom’s door, and when he was about to open it he heard something.

It was a scream.

‘‘The kids’’. He tought.

Alador ran as fast as his tiredness allow him to the wast wing, where the children’s bedroom were. The screams kept going, ‘’Where is the staff?’’ Alador asked himself mentally. His kids could be diying and non of the guards he hired were even near.

The screams were coming from Emira’s room. But the shouting didn’t sounded like Emira.

He looked at Amity’s and Edric’s doors. They haven’t come out and their doors were closed. Alador was tempted to open the other two door, but decided not to. If his children were being kidnaped, he’ll deal with the kidnapper in Emira’s room first.

Alador took a deep breath and casted a spell, ready to attack if he needed to. He opened the door, fast and hard. What he saw let him speechless.

There was no kidnapper. There was no danger.

But, he really didn’t know what to think about the scene that was display infront of him.

Emira’s room was a disaster. There were snacks in the ground, Alador wonder if Odalia would be mad about it, he answered himself almost inmediatelly with a yes. The room was dark, except for the karaoke that, Alador supposed, one of the twins bought.

Edric was lying in the floor with a microphone in his left hand, while his right hand where finger-brushing his hair. Oh, and he was using Emira’s lastest grom dress and a twelve centimeters tall heels.

Amity was sitting in the little sofa that Em buy two years ago. Her face had some very excentric makeup, specially her eyes. A wildly combination of pink, glitter and black. With red-sparkled lip gloss. Her triangular earings were replaced with a pair of Emira’s expensive earings that were only used for important meeting or fancy parties. She was wearing her regular pajamas, with the slight difference that, over her pants, she was wearing a puffy skirt. And that her feet were covered with long cowboy boots.

Emira was sitting in her bed, face was covered in some kind of skin care treatment. A phosphorescent green skin care treatment. Even with that, she was the most normal looking of the three. All her makeup was in the bed, (probably the responsable of Amity’s face) and her hand was grabbing her scroll, that was recording Edric’s performance, before he opened the door, at least. The scroll was still recording, by the way. Em didn’t have time to stop it before his father abruptely came in the room.

The Blight siblings were looking at him like deers flashed by a light. Each of them praying in their heads that if they don’t move Alador wouldn’t be able to see them, like some of the animal in the isles.

‘‘You... uhm,... arrived early’‘. Edric stated the obvious, crearly nervous. But, can you blame him? Not everyday your dad found you wearing a dress and using heels . Actually that never really hapened to him.

The music of the karaoke was still playing. Alador connected the dots and figured out that his son was the responsable of the screams.

‘‘Yes, I did’‘ Alador responded. He never had been a man of words, but in this moment he didn’t know what would be the correct way to react.

Should he scold them for being up at one in the morning making a fuss? Or He should just close the door and pretend that none of it happened?

He was definitely going to ask the servants if this was something that happened often and why they had not reported those... meetings that their children did.

‘‘Mom’s here, too?’‘ Amity asked. Her face now was now also covered with a strong blush of embarasment, that reached even her neck.

‘‘No, she is still in the meetong with the Hogson’s’‘ Alador answered.

‘‘Do you want to talk this now, or would you preffer to wait until the sun comes out?’‘ Alador asked. He wan’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but the words came out of his mouth even before he could think about it. That was something that didn’t happened to him since high school.

The kids glare at eachother and said a ‘’now’’ at the same time. If they waited for the sun, Odalia was probably going to arrive and they didn’t wanted to have that conversation with their mother.

None conversation, actually.

‘‘Alright’‘ their father said ‘‘Clean your faces and put on presentable clothes’‘

And with that he leave the room.

‘‘That could have been worse, right?’’ Edric said. He finally stoped doing the pose with his hand trought his hair.

‘‘Yeah...’’ Emira answered him ‘‘Mom could have catch us’’

‘‘Titan forbid’’ Amity said.

Once they cleaned their faces and put on their pijamas, the three siblings made their way to Alador’s office, who has completely forgot how tired he was.

They were nervous, Edric, specially. And were honestly surprised when the scolding was more about how they broke the curfew than about all the mess they did.

And after that, things evolved rapidly. The kids felt better in Alador’s pressence than ever before. They trusted their father even more because he didn’t said a thing to Odalia, and even gave the order to the servants to keep those meetings as a secret.

Two months later, Alador found himself spending the family-bonding-time, as Edric renamed it, with his children. The bonding-time had to be moved to saturday’s night, because Alador had the obligation to go to the meeting on friday. But the kids weren’t mad at all.

‘‘Dad?’’, Edric called for him. It has been five minutes since Emira and Amity’s comming out and Alador haven’t said anything esle since the congratulations. ‘‘Girls, I think you shouldn't have done it at the same time; now you’ve killed him’’.

‘‘We didn’t!’’ Amity shouted inmediately.

‘‘No, I think we actually did it, Mittens’’ Emira seconded.

‘‘I’m fine’’ Alador said some time later. The twins were disscussing if they should call an ambulance or just leave their dad there. Emira was drafting in her mind all the possible ways to hide Alador’s corpse in the manor, too. You have to be careful, right?

Alador sit up straight in the couch were she was lying. Before his both daughters come out to him some minutes ago, they were all watching a movie. If Alador had to be honest, he wasn’t really paying attention. He was falling asleep. This week has been rough, but for no reasom he would cancel the saturdaynight bonding time™.

‘‘None of my kids are straight, huh?’’ Alador thought.

Ok, to be fair, Edric haven’t come out to him (yet), but Alador prectically confirm his son’s orientation when he founded him performing when he discovered that friday sisters’ night. No straight, cis, man would use a dress and heels. Not even walk on them in the propper way Edric managed to do.

‘‘So, uhm, are you... mad or...?’’ Amity began.

‘‘Oh, no. No!’’ Alador answered, with a little laught that lately the siblings were more used to hear ‘‘I’m actually kind of relive.’’

‘‘Relieve?’‘ Edric asked, genuinely curious.

‘‘Indeed. I don’t have to worry about any potencial boyfriend and the concecuences that would imply-’’

‘‘Shut!’’ Amity and Emira shouted at the same time. ‘‘The school already teach us that. No need to repeated.’’ Emira continued.

‘‘I was talking about a heartbroken, but yes, sexual education is very important too.’’ Alador said. And, tho he seemed serious, he was teasing his daughters.

‘‘So, you are ok with this?’’

‘‘Yes, Amity.’’

Actually, I’m kind of a pansexual, myself. Alador tought, but keep shut.

The movie was paused. Probably since some time ago but Alador didn’t notice. He glare at Emira’s wall clock. 12:05, it marked.

It was early, Odalia wouldn’t be back until three in the morning. Anyway he open his scroll to verify that his wife haven’t texted him or something.

There was nothing, as expected. Only Odalia’s last message where she told him that she was going to leave the party at 1:45 and was expecting been home around 3:00 a.m.

‘‘So,’‘ Alador started ‘‘any particular reason to tell me your orientation?’’

Yes, it was sweet, but Alador did knew his daughter a little and can almost tell that, at least Emira had something else to say.

‘‘No, no reason.’’ Amity answered. ‘‘Just to tell you with Em.’’

Alador look at his older daugher, waiting for her answer.

Yes, they were closer than bever before, but the sad truth was that even if his children did trusted in him, he didn’t think that they trusted him that much.

It was reasonable, not less hurting, but understandable.

‘‘Well... You see, er. Ok, so. I actually wanted to tell you because, uhm....’’

Alright, now this was new. Alador never in his life had heard Emira stutter.

All his children were raise to be the embodinment of perfection, as Odalia describe it. The three took classes of everything. From music to etiquette, and diction was not left behind.

Now, Alador was sincerely curious.

‘‘There’s this girl in the school, and well-’’

‘‘Emira has a big crush on her.’’ Edric interrupted.

‘‘But Emira can be around her without being a red mess.’‘

‘‘You are one to talk, huh, Mittens.’’ Emira asked. Her cheeks were already a little blushy.

Amity looked away and Emira continue: ‘’My point is, that, her dad is kinda, a little... short budget. And-’’

‘‘Emira, I love you, but if that girl is using you for your money-’’

‘‘No! She isn’t! Sh doesn’t even know that I liked her’’

‘‘Well that’s debatable’’ Edric said ‘‘It’s really obvious and Viney it’s not as oblivious as Luz, plus-’’

‘‘Who’s Luz?’‘ Alador asked.

‘‘It doesn’t matter right now’’ Emira stated. ‘‘The point is, dad, that she didn’t even tell me his dad was in a little hurry. I was walking towards her and she was talking to her friends about it and I just heard a little. When I told her I could give her some snails she declined and actually was pretty mad about it, until last week, when I apologized. But I really want to do something about it.’’ Em talked fast, but Alador, as the good listener he had always been, didn’t missed anything.

‘‘And how can I help?’’ Alador asked.

‘‘Well, you can make him get a job? Maybe here in the manor or somewhere else. Her dad is in the construction coven, I think he is like, the right hand of the leader.’’

Alador hummed. Contruction coven right hand? He was a right hand once, before he was level up to coven leader. And he knew very well the salary of the seconds on board. It was a great amount of snails.

‘‘And before you say something like ‘she’s scamming you’, I want you to know that her family is really big. She has like, twelve siblings, not including her.’’

Alador sigh.

‘‘She really is a good person, dad. And if I can help her, I will.’’

‘‘She’s one of the noblest people we’ve met. There’s no danger’’ Edric said in favor of Emira’s propose.

Alador looked to Amity, who haven’t said much, and asked her with his eyes for her opinion.

‘‘I don’t hang out with her a lot, but she’s indeed good.’’

‘‘Well, I guess I have no other option, do I?’’

‘‘Thank you, dad!’’ Emira shouted and jump to her dad’s lap to trap him in her arms in a tigh hug.

‘‘I don't promise anything, but I'm going to see what I can do.’‘ Alador responded and hug Emira back.

He looked at Edric and Amity and with a head movement he invited both of them to join the hug.

Edric took Amity’s hand and join to it.

Well, Alador thought, I guess I have some work to do now.

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love-fireflysong · 3 years ago

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It be June 3rd now, and would you look at that, the second of my prompts is already up! Who’d a thunk it? Anyway, as successfully guessed by the lovely @torahime here is 5 + 1! And as by the nature of this trope in general, this one ended up long. Like crazy loooooooong. (Also I’m a moron who didn’t understand what the prompt meant for like a week. I kept trying to figure out what the hell the number six had to do with anything, and when I finally googled it out of desperation, all I saw were the words ‘five times’ in the first link and I immediately felt ashamed of myself. I should have known. Why didn’t I know?)

Anyways, you can read the long-ass fic in question at ao3 over here: Do You Ever Wonder What Could Have Been? You can also read this one under the cut, but considering the length I wouldn’t recommend it asdhaskdjh The next one should be much shorter due to the fact that like the first one, I blanked for ideas completely lol.

Do You Ever Wonder What Could Have Been?

Trope: 5 + 1 Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley, Josh Washington (all the other kids also make an appearance but due to them only having like one scene and a single line each I’m not tagging them) Words: 12733 Rating: Teen (though I think I’m being pretty damn generous with that rating tbh) Authors Notes: Yes you’re reading that word count right. Almost thirteen thousand words. Don’t ask how I managed to write this in 5 days, I have no fucking idea. Just take this fic about two nerds being morons in love and mutually pining over each other for six. fucking. years.

Chris is fourteen and so goddamn tired of this stupid crush on his best friend. It's been a whole year now since he met her, and he hates that this stupid, silly, little, crush of his hasn't abated at all. He doesn't even know why he likes her in the first place! It's just Ashley after all, there is absolutely no reason to feel this tongue-tied around his best friend. It's Ash: with her braces, arms always full books (when her head wasn't buried in one that is), stringy red hair, wide green eyes, who sometimes snorts when he tells a joke, freckles that dot her nose and shoulders and—

Okay, he was maybe getting a little side-tracked here. The point was, there was 100% absolutely no reason to feel this way about her. In fact, he bets this was all Josh's fault in the first place! Yeah! That was it! None of this would be happening if Josh hadn't basically kidnapped Ashley from her true home in the library and forced him to meet her!

...But then he wouldn't have met her. And stupid crush aside, she is pretty much the only girl he knows who laughs at all his jokes and helps him with his English homework sometimes. He likes knowing her and likes being her friend even more, he just doesn't like liking her. And maybe that was it? Maybe he just likes Ashley cause she's the only girl who willingly hangs out with him and Josh, and isn't Josh's sisters.

And that's what he's going to prove today once and for all. He heard from Josh that Hannah was absolutely adamant that everyone was going to play spin-the-bottle at her and Beth's birthday party in a couple of days. And that everyone meant not only the people that the twins invited for said party, but also the people that Josh invited over (ie: Chris and Ash) so he would have some company during the twins big b-day bash. Chris was going to find Ashley and explain that losing their first kiss over a game like spin-the-bottle was just so not cool, and that maybe kissing each other first would just be a way better and smarter idea of doing things. And once he kissed her he would finally realize that yup, Ash was just one of the guys and that was so fucking gross and they were totally never ever going to do that again.

Perfect idea. Fool proof even. No way that this was totally going to backfire into his face. Absolutely none at all!

So when he finds Ashley sitting and reading under her usual tree just outside of the school, he is so sure of the success of his ingenious plan that he brings it up right away.

"I think we should kiss before Hannah and Beth's party."

See! Right away! Straight to the point. He has got this shit in the bag baby!

Ashley looks up at him, clearly a little startled from reading her book and squints at him. "Huh? Chris? Is that you?" For a second he's a little confused about how Ash doesn't even recognize him, but then he quickly realizes that he's probably got the sun directly at his back so she can't see him clearly and he awkwardly shuffles to the left a little so she can see him better. "Oh! Hey Chris, what was that you said earlier? I got so absorbed that I didn't really hear a thing you said, sorry." While she doesn't close her book, she does give an embarrassed little laugh that makes his stomach flip-flop just a little and starts to weaken at the cracks of his once fool-proof plan.

He finds himself messing with the strap on his bookbag as he tries to ignore the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. 'Um, I asked if you were going to the twins' birthday party this weekend." Okay, falling a little behind schedule now, but it's fine. No problem.

"I mean, I wasn't exactly invited, but yeah. A whole night of graphic horror movies to drown out the sounds of screaming pre-teens. I honestly can't think of a better way to spend a Saturday night." The absolute dryness of her tone has Chris smiling.

"Oh come on Ash, it's not gonna be that bad."

"Our choices are either to hang out with a bunch of kids who have basically never talked to us ever, or watch Josh's disgusting horror movies Chris."

"Well, I mean, when you put it that way...actually, no. The screaming pre-teens sound like a safer bet honestly." The little snort of laughter she lets out only has Chris pushing the butterflies down harder. God, he is going to be so glad when those stupid things finally leave him alone. "And well, from what Josh said, it sounds like horror isn't the only thing planned for that evening."

"It isn't? You mean he's actually opening up to other movie genre options? Shocking. I truly never thought I would see the day."

"Ha, I wish. Nah, I was, um, talking about what the girls—well, what Hannah wanted to play. Actually." Great. And now he's starting to blush. Really keeping with the rails of his plan there!

"What Hannah...? Oh! You're, uh, talking about the spin-the-bottle game." Ashley brings her lower lip into her mouth and pushes some hair behind her ear. "Yeah, Josh mentioned something about that."

Perfect, one less thing he had to explain. That would speed things up immensely. "Honestly, between you and me? I think it's a stupid idea."

Ashley nods her head vigorously in agreement. "I know right! I mean, who wants to kiss some stranger over a bottle of all things? Can you imagine losing your first kiss to some person who probably doesn't have a single idea who you are in the first place? God that would be awful." Oh man, things are lining up right for him! Ashley's even on the same page and this next part is going to be so easy— "That's why I asked Josh if I could kiss him first instead when he told me a couple of days ago."

Wait. Waitwaitwait wait . She already asked Josh?! "Oh, wow. You were, uh, really thinking ahead there huh?" God, he could feel every ounce of determination he had slowly deflating out of his body. There was no way he could ask her now, absolutely no way! Ashley was gonna think that Chris wanted to kiss her—or worse, liked her! And okay he kind of did, but this was supposed to prove the exact opposite. That this was just stupid hormones and puberty really messing with his life and not something else.

"Of course, there was absolutely no way I was gonna have my first kiss with some popular buttface who was just gonna make fun of me behind my back afterwards. Better to have it with Josh, who would also make fun of me, but at least it would be to my face." Ashley starts to return to her book, flipping a page but stops halfway through. "Wait. Were you going to ask me the same thing?" She sounds a little unsure and a little of something else he can't place right now because he's too busy trying not to panic.

"What? No! God no! Of-of course not!" Oh god, was his voice seriously choosing to crack now? He really, really hoped that the shade being cast from the tree was enough to hide how red his face was. He needed to get out of here and quick .

"I-I-I mean, it's not like it was good or anything—"

"Think I should probably go now anyway."

"It was, like, really wet and-and-and like so bad. Super awkward honestly."

"Lots of things to do. Lots and lots of things to do in fact!"

"I mean, we could still, uh, k-k-kiss? If you want to...?"

"Nope!" Chris was honestly looking everywhere except at Ashley right now, which was fine because she was currently in the middle of trying to hide behind her book. "There's absolutely no reason to do that. Because, because... I already kissed Josh too!"

"...you did?"

"Yup! Totally did. Just came over to see what you had planned to do about it actually. And because you're so much smarter than me, you had totally already done the same thing. So no reason for me to still bother you after all! None whatsoever! So I'll just let you get back to your book. And the battle between the uh, vampire and the, um, cowboy? Riveting stuff I bet."

"Um, yeah. But—"

"I'll just, uh, see you tomorrow then, I guess. Bye!"

Chris thinks he catches a wave of disappointment flash across her face when she returns his farewell, but he's already basically fled half away across the yard to find Josh so he doesn't think about it too much. And it turns out that Ashley is right, kissing Josh is wet and pretty fucking awful in the end. Which should only prove his idea that kissing her would have been just as bad and awkward.

So why does he feel like it would have actually been the complete opposite?

"I'm going to fail."

Ashley rolled her eyes as she struggled not to laugh. "Oh my god, you're not gonna fail Chris."

Chris didn't even deign to raise his head from where he had face-planted it into the open book only moments before, letting his words come out muffled and flat. "I am Ash. I am going to bomb this exam so hard that they're gonna make me repeat ninth grade."

Ashley groaned, but it was more of an attempt to hide her amusement than out of any exasperation, as she tried to lift Chris back into a sitting position and wasn't laid out prostrated over the table. "Okay first of all, get your dumb face out of that book. Ms. Norman is not gonna be happy with either of us if she discovers your drool all over the pages of the only half-decent copy of Lord of the Flies that the school library has." Once she finally has finally managed to prop Chris into a halfway decent sitting position, she moves the book closer to her in case he decides to try smashing his face into it again. "Second of all, I'm pretty sure that the school's not going to make you repeat the grade just because you failed English, your grades in everything else are high enough that they'll definitely pass you. That, and there is no way that the teachers would let Josh move on to high school of all things without supervision."

"...That is a scarily good point."

"And thirdly, there is absolutely no way I would be able to get through the next four years of school with you in my grade," she teases him with a poke in the arm. "I mean can you imagine? Having to go to class everyday knowing you're going to be there with me? I can't think of anything more terrifying honestly."

Chris gives a startled laugh. "Gee, thanks Ash. Really appreciate that vote of confidence. Making my self-esteem soar over here. And also, I for one can think of something way more terrifying."

"Really?" Ashley says as she crosses her arms across her chest and levels him with a disbelieving look. "Well go on then, try me. Cause I can promise you that there is absolutely nothing more terrifying—"

"Me and Josh in the same grade as you."

Ashley just blanches. "Oh god. You're right. That is so much worse and the idea of this even happening is now going to give me nightmares for the rest of my life."

"Oh please, it wouldn't be that bad."

"It would. It so would. And to prevent this we need to double down on you studying for your English final so that this cataclysmic event never occurs."

It's Chris's turn to roll his eyes as he slumps down even further into his seat. "That's what I was doing earlier until you stopped me."

"What? Planting your face into the middle of the book?"

"Exactly. Decided to try out a new method cause the other one wasn't certainly working. Learning by osmosis."

Ashley shoves her face into the palms of her hands to try and stop her giggles. It didn't work, not by a long shot, but it at least smothered them a bit. "You can't just read a book by trying to absorb it into your skin, that's not how things work at all!"

"And how would you know that Ash? Have you ever even tried?" Chris scoffs.

"Of course I haven't you dork! I haven't tried because that's not even possible!"

"Um, sounds to me like someone just isn't open to new ideas."

"Oh my god. Can we please get back to studying and making sure you don't fail. I for one would really like to get back to that." Ashley starts to put the copy of the book back between the middle of them where they can both read it easily. "Okay, so chapter eight is where the divide between the boys finally reaches a boiling point after seeing the 'monster' on the mountain in the last chapter. They argue over whether Ralph should still be left in charge and Jack leaves in a huff."

Chris groaned as he tossed his glasses onto the table so he could throw his arm over his eyes. "Starting to think that Jack has the right idea here." he grumbled.

Ashley ignored him. "Some of the other boys follow after him and form their own tribe with Jack as its chief further down the beach. As a group, the hunters then fall into a savage frenzy when they go hunting and kill a sow, with Roger dealing the killing blow."

"By driving his spear into the thing’s ass," Chris helpfully supplied.

Ashley sighed. "Yes, by doing that. Good to know you're at least remembering some things, but do you remember what happened next?"

Though she couldn't see with Chris's arm in the way, she knew that he was narrowing his eyes in concentration. "Ummm, they... eat the pig?"

Ashley groaned and fought very hard against the impulse to smack her forehead into the center of the table. " Chris . "

"What? Do they not eat the thing? I mean, why even hunt it if they're not gonna eat it?"

"Chris, what they do next is the lead up for what is often considered the most important scene in the entire book! How can you not remember?!"

"I don't know Ash! Kind of think I was distracted by the whole 'shoving a spear into a sow's anus' part!"

"They leave its head on a stake in the jungle as an offering to the beast! This is what creates the Lord of the Flies that Simon sees later that night!"

"Oh right, that. Yeah that sounds a little familiar now that you mention it."

"A little—" Ashley stops fighting against the earlier urge and places her heavy head into her hands in despair. "You literally had to read this book last month! How could you have forgotten so much already?"

Chris groans and drapes himself over the back of his chair. "This is hopeless Ash. I appreciate the help I really do, but I think it's time we face the inevitable and just take a page out of this book."

"What, I stick your head on a pike and be done with you?"

The snort that Chris makes in surprise is enough to bring a tired smile to Ashley's face. "Leaving you to deal with Josh alone? Ha, you wouldn't. Nah, I was talking about just making an offering to the exam gods out there. Think they'll be the best bet I have to pass this shitty ass final."

Ashley removes her head from her hands to give him a withering look. "If we're going that route, you want a kiss for good luck too? Probably work just as well as those gods of yours."

There's an awkward pause, and at first Ashley can't figure out why but then the words finally hit her. She feels her face start to burn and she places her head back into her hands so she doesn't have to look at Chris anymore. Oh god, she can't believe she just said that. Why would she even say that in the first place?! It's a damn good thing that Chris isn't wearing his glasses right now, the heat from her face alone is making her feel like she's about to combust as it is, and him seeing that would probably push her over that physical boundary.

"I-I mean, if you think it will help..." Chris sounds almost bashful when he says it and Ashley snaps her head to him in shock.

"I—" Ashley isn't quite sure what she's trying to say, and is interrupted when her phone buzzes with an incoming text message. She immediately jumps up from her chair and starts grabbing at her things. "Oh man, that's probably my mom here to pick me up. I should really get going."

"Uh, yeah. Yeah! No reason for me to stay if you aren't so I guess I should head out too." Chris starts picking up his stuff too, putting his glasses back onto his face as he shoves his books into his bag.

By nature of having brought less than Chris to help him study, Ashley finishes cleaning first but doesn't leave right away. Chris had said it was fine after all. And sure, maybe he was just desperate for anything that will help him pass his final, but he said it would be fine. So steeling herself, Ashley leans down and leaves a quick but chaste kiss on Chris's cheek.

"For luck!" She manages to squeak out as she all but runs out the doors of the library to the school's entrance where her mom will be waiting for her, too scared to even look back.

Chris should have known that something was up the moment Josh brought it up: 'Hey, how about you and Ash hang out at my house this weekend instead?' Innocent sounding sure, but he really, really should have known better. Josh never pushed for hang outs at his place, it had always been an agreed upon rule that Hannah and Beth got their place, while Josh preferred to host their get togethers and his and Ash's own houses. It was just the thing that was done and everyone had been more than happy with how it was. Had it been any other time, Chris would like to think that he would have totally seen right through Josh's plan and offered up his place instead.

But Josh's parents were almost never around either, and that meant staying up late and talking and goofing around without parents warning them to go to sleep. Which most importantly meant staying up late and talking to Ashley, because that hadn't been a thing that the three of them had been able to do a whole lot recently. It was still so weird not seeing Ash around in the school halls, not being able to hang out at lunch, and not meeting up after school all the time. It felt like there was something huge missing and it bothered him (just as much as it bothered Josh, not that he would ever say anything about it). The two of them wandering the hallowed halls of high school while she was still stuck back in their middle school just felt so wrong .

So when Josh had brought up a weekend hang out, Chris (and Ashley) had accepted right away. Which, judging from the fact that Josh had somehow managed to weasel the two of them into playing a game of Truth or Dare with him, had been a huge mistake.

"Well, well, well. It seems the time has come. So let's get on with it shall we?" Josh rubbed his hands gleefully together in the dim light of the bedroom (for atmosphere he had claimed) as the three of them sat in a circle. A seemingly innocuous plate of cookies sitting in the middle of them, and knowing better then to trust Josh, both Chris and Ash had been eyeing the cookies warily for the past few minutes. Not that Josh seemed to notice or care of course. "Seeing as I'm the one who set up elegant little ritual—"

"You forced us into playing a stupid game dude, there's nothing elegant or ritualistic about it."

Josh ignored him, unsurprisingly. "I'll go first of course. So Ash, truth or dare?"

"What are the cookies for Josh?" Ashley asked nervously as she continued to eye the plate instead of answering him.

"That's not important. And anyways, it's my turn Ash. So I'll ask again: truth or dare Ashley?"

Ashley raised her eyes from the plate to transfer her nervous and mistrustful stare to him. "...truth," she answered slowly.

"Oh ho ho! So truth it is! Well then Ash, tell me: have you got any secrets you've been dying to share with us?"

Chris could immediately tell that the question had hit a sore spot on some sort, shoulders locked and her body stiff. "You know I'm not gonna answer that one. Pass."

Josh shook his head, a devious smile on his lips. "Nope. Nuh uh Miss Brown. That's not how this game works. If you're gonna pass then I'm gonna have to ask that you take a cookie in return."

"...I'm sorry, what? "

He waved a hand down towards the plate of cookies. "These, my dearest chums, are the fabled Truth or Dare cookies. Anytime one of us refuses to act out what is asked of us, we must then take a cookie in penance."

At first, Ashley doesn't move. She continues to dart her eyes suspiciously between Josh and the plate of cookies, but eventually slowly does reach out and hesitantly grab a chocolate cookie from the plate. She holds it up closer to her face to investigate it further, and Chris watches as all the tension she had stored up just evaporates from her as she physically deflates. "Oh my god, are you actually being serious right now Josh? ‘Dare’ brand cookies? Really? Why in the world are you trying to be so ominous when you went with a pun as lame as using Dare cookies in a game of truth or dare?"

"Wait, really?" Chris reaches out to grab one for himself but Josh smacks his hand away with a grin.

"So sorry Cochise, but these are only for if you refuse. And trust me, you don't want to refuse." Josh turns back to Ashley. "Oh, and don't eat that just yet."

In response, she just shrugs and leans back, but keeps the chocolate crème filled cookie in her hand as she looks between Chris and Josh. "It's my turn now, right? Okay, so—"

Josh cuts her off. "Nope, still mine. Now, Chris—"

"What? That's not how this stupid game works Josh!"

Josh waves her off. "You didn't answer my question Ash, or eat the cookie, so it's still my turn."

"But you just told me not to eat the stupid thing!"

Josh ignores her as he keeps his attention squarely on Chris. Who, to his own shame, has begun squirming in his seat in dread of what's going to come. "Well, Chris: truth or dare?"

Chris tosses the options over in his head. Both are terrible obviously, but playing this game with Josh of all people never ends well, so he decides to go with his gut instead. "Dare."

"Ooooh, feeling a little gutsy are we? That's fine, I can work with that. I dare you to... return the favour and do one thing you've been thinking about alllllllll summer."

Personally, Chris is finding it a miracle that he hasn't reached over and tried to strangle Josh yet, but he has a feeling that has more to do with the fact that he's trying not to shrivel up on the floor and die than out of any mercy. Even though Josh for some reason worded it in a really convoluted way, he just literally dared him to kiss Ash. It was so obvious that he was frankly amazed that Ashley hadn't figured it out yet.

Because of course he still thought about that kiss for good luck that Ash had given him in the library. He thought about it nearly all the damn time! Hell, Chris was pretty sure that the reason he had even passed his final even a little bit was because of the kiss. Not because it was good luck or anything, but because whenever a question appeared on the exam that asked about the themes or some shit about Lord of the Flies, he kept getting sent back into that library where Ashley had been drilling the same stuff into him just before she had kissed his cheek.

And there is absolutely no way that he's gonna kiss Ash in Josh's bedroom. No way in hell. Especially not when it's gonna reveal that he had been thinking about what was more than likely a super innocent and helpful gesture on her part.

So glaring at Josh, Chris reaches forward and without a word grabs a vanilla cookie. And for some strange reason, this only causes Josh's smile to widen. "I see, so that's what you both went with huh? Anyways, I think it's about time you take your 'reward' and chow down!"

Exchanging a confused look with Ashley, Chris nonetheless shrugs and pops the entire thing into his mouth and bites down.

And realizes in a horrifying instant that this is not a vanilla cookie.

There's a flash of light that blinds him for a second, and when the spots clear he sees Josh holding a camera and laughing his ass off.

"What the—? Is this fucking mayo dude?!" And it must be, because this is not what a vanilla cookie should ever taste like. While the cookie portion itself is okay if not a little soft, the crème is way too oily and eggy to be anything but mayo. Josh doesn't answer his question right away, but that's from a combo of laughing way too hard and being distracted by Ash trying not to retch in the middle of the bedroom floor.

"Oh my god! You put soy sauce in a cookie?! What is wrong with you Josh?!" She's up in a second and rushing to the garbage can near Josh's desk, and Chris is quick to join her in trying to spit everything out. "I'm never going to get this salt out of my mouth! Why would you even do that?!"

"Cause it's fucking hilarious that's why!" Josh is still laughing as he takes a look at the picture he took on the camera, and starts laughing harder. "Oh fucking hell, this was glorious. Oh wasting those two questions just for this picture was so worth it. Best decision I could have made!

"Now you two get your asses back over here! I spent hours on these cookies after all, and I am not letting them go to waste. We've got hours my friends, and so many questions and dares to get through."

Chris shares a look with Ashley over the garbage bin, both of them now obviously wondering if keeping their own secret had been worth having to eat those cookies, and if they still would have passed their turn knowing what exactly laid in store for them. While he certainly couldn't say a thing about her, Chris wasn't so sure if not kissing Ash and enduring all the fallout that would have resulted in was worth the terrible combination of vanilla and mayo in his mouth. He supposed he would never know, it was too late to simply retract his pass after all.

And well, he really didn't want to kiss Ash when she had just been tricked into eating a bunch of soy sauce.

You know, Ashley kind of figured that once she entered high school all of these stupid games would be done with. Surely high schoolers were too mature and too old to be playing childish games like spin-the-bottle or seven minutes in heaven? And yeah, obviously Chris and Josh weren't, but that was them and they were in a class all their own. But Hannah? And Sam and Beth? She would have thought that they were way too cool to be playing spin-the-bottle of all things, especially Beth.

And yet, here Ashley was: squeezed in between Matt and Sam as Matt spun the bottle around on the now extremely sticky hardwood floor. She wasn't stupid, she knew the entire reason the game was even being played in the first place; Hannah had been making eyes at Mike all through the evening and well into the game after all. She just didn't think that anyone else would have been stupid enough to go along with the game when Hannah suggested it.

(Ashley knew very well why she had reluctantly agreed to play, she just didn't know why anyone else did.)

Though to be fair, it didn't seem like the game was gonna last much longer anyway. Emily and Jess had started scrolling through their phones ages ago, showing each other whatever was on the other's screen every few minutes and the two of them laughing. Mike had been tapping a really off-rhythm beat on his jeans with the straw from his can of soda and staring into space, while Hannah stared lovesick at him . Beth was starting to doze on Sam's shoulder, not that either seemed too concerned about it, and Sam was nervously eyeing all the spilt pop and chips around them that they were gonna have to clean up before they went to bed. Unsurprisingly, Chris was also scrolling through his phone, snickering every now and then as Ashley felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her hoodie whenever he sent whatever it was that he found funny to her and Josh. Josh meanwhile, had joined Matt in building a rather shaky—if not impressive—tower out of discarded plastic cups, straws, and paper plates.

Ashley yawned behind her hand as the bottle slowed it's spin. She had been ready to drop out of the game a round or two back, but hadn't yet because she didn't want to deal with the others teasing her on being a sore loser who backs down the moment the bottle didn't land on the person she wanted it to. Which would lead to Chris asking who it was even though everyone else already knew who because it was glaringly obvious to everyone except him. The sound of the bottle stopping its spin managed to get everyone's attention as they looked at the neck of the bottle pointed squarely at Mike.

Everyone made the expected ' oooooooh ' and wolf whistles that everyone always did in this game, though quieter than they might have usually. Bob and Melinda were sleeping upstairs after all, and the last thing any of them wanted to do was wake them up and have them discover that despite it being nearly three in the morning, that the ten of them were still awake as the snow storm raged outside the lodge. Nonetheless, Matt and Mike both rolled their eyes and leaned over Josh who sat in the middle of them with a groan. Mike also didn't hesitate to take Matt's face into his hands and just plant one firmly on his mouth with no fanfare, other than the continued wolf whistles of course, and the two of them settled back down to their previous antics.

With that done, Ashley stared down nervously at the bottle. Once again, she felt the words stick in her throat. It would just be so easy to say "Oh man you guys, it's really late, I should really just go to bed" but let them die without a fight as she swallowed nervously and gave the bottle a hard flick. She knew exactly why she let the words die, and it wasn't solely because of what the others would say, though that was certainly a large part of it. No, it was because of the same glimmer of hope that sparked in her everytime it was her turn at this stupid game. That maybe this would be the time that the bottle would land on Chris, that she would finally get that kiss she's wanted for three years now.

She watches the bottle spin around the group, slowing its motion every full spin, and she notices that Chris has turned his attention away from his phone to watch it almost as nervously as she is. Which should probably make her question just why Chris is as just as invested on who it's gonna land on as she is, but she's kind of distracted right now by the fact that her heart is rapidly picking up pace in direct contrast to how much slower the bottle is getting. And feels it stop almost entirely when the bottle begins its last revolution and she knows. She knows . It's finally gonna land on Chris. All these years of playing this stupid, stupid game and it's finally happening.

Ashley's eyes shoot up to meet Chris's over the bottle, but that's also when the lodge suddenly plunges into darkness just before the bottle stops on him.

Immediately, the others are screaming next to her and the tower of cups and plates fall with a soft clatter.

"Oh my god! What the fuck was that?!"

"Holy fuck! Can you guys see anything?"

"Of course we can't see anything Michael!"

"It's probably just the storm you guys. Settle down."

"Can you guys please quiet down? My parents are sleeping and they're gonna kill us if they find out we're still awake."

Ashley isn't yelling though, because she's too busy screaming internally. There is no way that this is actually happening right now. There is no goddamn way. The bottle finally lands on Chris and the power goes out? Because of some stupid storm? She wanted to scream. She has half a mind to reach out and hold the bottle in place so there's proof of this when the power comes on, or to just jump over the distance and kiss Chris anyway. She knows exactly where he is after all, and he must have seen it land on him. He must have, right? It's that little second of uncertainty that decides for her, there's a sound as someone gets up and the flat 'thunk' as they accidentally kick the bottle across the room.

"Shit. My bad. You guys stay here, I'll go and check out the back-up generator in the basement. You coming, Cochise?"

Ashley can hear Chris awkwardly and quickly getting to his feet. "Um, y-yeah. Right behind you, bro."

The two of them walk away leaving Ashley to sit on the floor about to scream from the frustration of it all. And she does scream that it is, though not from almost having the perfect excuse to kiss Chris, but from someone touching her shoulder.

"Sorry, sorry!" Sam apologizes. "You were so quiet Ashley that I got nervous. I know that you're scared of the dark and I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Oh, yeah. That's right. She was so preoccupied with the dark ruining what was almost going to be the highlight of her entire year , that she kind of forgot that it was, well, dark now. And once that realization hits her, so too does the fear that she's sitting in absolute darkness and can't see a single thing other than the lights being cast from everyone’s phones. That she has no idea what else—or who else—is out there. She frantically reaches out and wraps up Sam's arm in her own for a physical reminder that there is someone else she trusts in the darkness with her.

"Wait, you're scared of the dark Ash? Shit. Here, just give me a second." From next to her, Matt rustles in his jacket pocket and brings out his phone, turning it on and casting light around the room, and reflecting off the plastic bottle that Josh had accidentally kicked to the other side of the room. "Hope this helps a bit."

Ashley lets out a breath and a small smile. "Yeah, it does. Thanks Matt."

"No problem. Hey, I think I may have a funny video saved on here somewhere. Pretty sure I downloaded it so just give me a moment." He finds the video quickly enough, and while Ashley doesn't find it particularly as funny as he clearly did, she does appreciate the effort anyway.

Thankfully for everyone, the lights come back on soon enough. Though whether from the power coming back or the back-up generator activating, she isn't sure. It is enough to convince everyone that maybe it's time for bed though, and no one asks about her spin and who it landed on, which Ashley is both insulted for and thankful of in equal measure. Sam unfortunately reminds everyone of the mess they've all made of the great room though, and that they should all clean it up before Bob and Melinda wake up and find it, which Hannah and Beth eagerly echo, and so does Josh when he makes his way back up from the basement with scowling Chris in tow.

Thankfully, between the ten of them, the clean up takes very little time and they're all on their way back to their own rooms in record time, even if Ashley was too embarrassed to even look at Chris now. God, she couldn't believe that she had seriously considered jumping him! And for what? Just because some bottle told her to? Oh man, she never would have been able to live that down. She still spends more time then needed to get ready in the bathroom, and then laying in bed with her lamp on in the hopes that maybe Chris will knock on her door to confront her about the spin and ask for that kiss.

While the fact that he doesn't make an appearance doesn't surprise her, it's still a little depressing.

Chris is going to kill Josh. He is going to kill him . And he means it this time. Years spent watching Josh's horror shit and listening to Ash go on and on about her mystery novels should have given him a real edge actually. He can murder Josh violently in the way that the weirdo would probably like to go and then Ash can help him get rid of the body so that no one will ever know it was him. Easy.

You know, assuming Ashley is still gonna want to even associate with him after this.

"You feeling okay, Chris? You're starting to look a little red... and surly."

"Yup, I'm fine. Just peachy in fact." Chris takes another swig of the punch that has somehow not been spiked yet, and tries to plaster a smile on his face for her only to once again start looking over her shoulder. Not that there's anything interesting over her shoulder of course, unless one finds a group of football seniors trying to play a game of chicken in the middle of the dance hall interesting, but it's easier than looking straight at her. Not because she looks terrible of course—good god is that not the reason—but because she is way too fucking gorgeous for him to handle right now.

When Chris had decided to invite her to his and Josh's grad thing, it had just been a way for all three of them to hang out and enjoy their last year of high school together. School rules dictated after all that for some stupid reason, graduates weren't allowed to invite anyone who wasn't in school anymore so Ash wasn't going to be able to ask them to hers next year. Which was complete and utter bullshit of course, but that was beside the point. It was supposed to be a fun night... and then Chris's parents found out. And being the complete pain in the asses they are, they insisted that if Ash was going to this party with them, and it was a formal party, then they needed to make this proper. So against his wishes and leaving Chris wanting to die, they went and found out what colour of dress Ash was going to be wearing and got him not only a matching tie but a fucking corsage to go with it! The only thing that had made all of that even a little better, was that they had forced Josh to go along with it so at least he wouldn't be alone.

But then Josh had showed up not wearing his stupid tie and without the fucking flowers. And despite Chris's repeated protests that he didn't want to do the whole matching thing, especially if Josh wasn't doing it, his parents still made him do it anyway, saying all the while that 'it would make Ashley happy, you do want to make Ashley happy don't you?' And now here he was, sitting with Ashley at their table while she wore his stupid flowers on her wrist and his tie matched her green dress.

He hated how fucking obvious his crush was s0 much.

"...It's because of what everyone's been saying isn't it?"

At the dejected tone of her voice, Chris immediately snaps his full attention to her, leaving his glass of punch forgotten as he flaps his hands around in an effort to not reach out and grab at her hand. "What? No! God no! That isn't it I swear!"

Ashley sighs sadly as she looks glumly down at her lap. "It's fine Chris. I can understand if it's making you uncomfortable."

Chris takes one of his ineffectually flapping hands and makes to run it through his hair, before remembering the amount of gel he had put in it before coming and rubs at his eyes beneath his glasses. "I'm serious Ash, that's not it. I was honestly just thinking about the different ways I'm going to murder Josh when he gets back."

She laughs a little at that, and turns to look out into the direction of the buffet table, as though she'll be able to see Josh coming back with their food through the literal sea of people. "He has been gone a while hasn't he? He left like twenty minutes ago and he still isn't back. Do you think he even went to the buffet table in the first place?"

"He better have. Him coming back with food is probably about the only thing that's going to stop me from murdering him honestly."

Ashley laughs a little louder, and when she pushes a stray strand of hair that had come undone from her simply styled updo, Chris catches the while flowers on her wrist and feels his stomach flip pleasantly. "Any particular reason you want to kill Josh this time?"

"I mean, I have plenty but let's just be honest with ourselves here: do either of us ever need a reason to wanna kill Josh, Ash?"

And there it is, the surprised snort he was waiting for and that just made this entire evening a little more bearable. "God, you're not wrong." She follows his eye line to the corsage on her wrist and just like that all levity to the situation is gone as she hides her hands back in her lap under the table. "...you're sure that you're okay with what everyone is saying though?" she asks a little nervously.

Honestly? No, he isn't. Ever since the three of them walked into the party, everyone they had talked to right away had noticed the matching colours and the corsage and all comments had been the same. 'Fucking knew that there was something going on between you two' and 'Hey, it's about fucking time' or 'Always knew that you two would be good together'. It had been bad enough realizing that apparently almost everyone he had ever spoken to even a little bit had known of his super obvious feelings for his best friend, but the absolute worst thing had been the pained but polite smile that Ash had forced onto her face every single time.

"Honestly, I'm never going to see most of these people ever again once I graduate." He's avoiding the question, and he knows that she knows that he's avoiding the question. "But you're probably gonna have to deal with people brining this stupid thing up for the entire next year. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. It's not like this is something I don't deal with already." She says it with a little shrug and smile, but Chris can feel his heart sink anyway. How long has she had to deal with the bullshit that his stupid crush has caused her, and why had she never told him? It's way too late to try and fix things, but he can at least hopefully try and stop any further comments from coming, so he lets his fingers fly to his tie and starts to frantically undo it. "...What are you doing Chris?"

"Wondering why on earth I let my parents talk me into this. This is obviously making you uncomfortable and I should have taken this stupid thing off ages ago." His fingers keep catching on the knot and he lets out a fairly explicit curse under his breath.

Ashley's eyes go wide with realization. "Oh!" She instantly flips over her wrist and starts fumbling at the clasp of the corsage with her other hand and Chris finds that his heart has somehow managed to travel all the way from the bottom of his stomach straight into his throat. Abandoning his only partially undone tie, he lays his hand on hers to stop her.

"You don't have to do that." She's staring at their hands in wide-eyed shock, and his breath catches. "Not if you don't want to, that is. It-it looks good on you."

"Okay," she whispers softly, eyes still wide as her fingers leave her wrist, "I can leave it on."

"Only if you want to though." When the hell did his mouth get so dry?!

"I do," she looks up to him when she says it, and the earnestness of her smile bowls him over. "I really, really do." In an effort to try and distract himself from her smile, he starts fumbling at his tie once again and he catches her eyes flickering to it. Ashley's smile somehow only brightens as she laughs at him. "Here. Let me give you a hand with that."

She scoots her chair closer to him and he removes his hands from his tie so she can take over. The two of them say nothing as she places all of her attention on continuing to loosen the knot, while Chris tries his absolute hardest not to swallow...or breathe...or do anything at all really, as he just stares down at her in awe.

Once the knot is finally undone, Ashley slowly pulls the entire length of fabric from his neck and places it on the table, before putting her hands back where they were so she can carefully smooth out his shirt collar. And when she looks back up at him with a smile, he can feel the entire world stop as they just stare at each other and Chris slowly starts to close the infinitesimally small distance between them. And he's probably just imagining things, but he thinks that she's doing the same thing as well.

"Jesus Christ, sorry it took so long you guys. Line for the fucking food was longer then you would believe!"

The two of them fly apart so fiercely, that Chris's entire chair manages to tip over backwards and send him to the ground with a loud clatter. He can feel everyone's eyes on them and the murmurs that follow, and he hopes that they're mistaking the redness of his face for the embarrassment of falling out of his chair. Yeah, that's a story that's going to make the rounds before he graduates for sure.

"Shit, you okay bro?" From his spot on the floor, Chris watches Josh place a couple of plates absolutely piled high in food on the table and reach down to help him up with a laugh. "Oh hey, I see you finally decided to take off that stupid tie too. Surprised it took you this long honestly."

Chris accepts Josh's hand up. "Yup, me too." He hopes and prays that Josh just thinks that the absolutely breathless and stunted quality to his words is that he's just a little winded from the fall. Once he gets his chair back up and sits back down, he grabs at the tie to shove it in his pocket. He notices that Ashley is refusing to look at him as she digs out a couple of sandwiches from the miscellaneous pile of food, even as she fiddles with the strap of flowers on her wrist for the rest of the meal.

He's exceptionally thrilled to note that she does keep the corsage on the rest of the night though.

Five times. That's how many times her phone has gone off in her pocket. Five. Times. And every single time Ashley lets out a sigh of relief when the buzzing finally stops, it goes off again only seconds later. And checking the caller id the first couple of times only showed that it was Josh calling her. Normally Ashley liked to think that she would have answered her phone if it was literally anyone else, but this was Josh. He called for every little thing after all; from letting her know that he saw a super big dog on the way home from classes to informing her that he was out of chips and if Ash could pick some up on her way to meet them from her job then that would really just be swell. And considering that he and Chris were supposed to meet her and grab a bite to eat together while she was on her lunch break, he was probably just calling to let her know that they had just left, and to make a milestone out of every block closer the two of them got so she could greet them with all the pomp and circumstance he likely thought he deserved.

Though to be fair she probably would have answered her phone after the third ring, if only to tell him off, but Jared had been giving her a stink eye from his office pretty much since she had arrived so she hadn't.

So she let it buzz...and buzz...and buzz. Until finally, her phone stopped yet again and she tensed her shoulders ready for the next round of vibrations to start. But there was nothing. Nothing but blissful silence coming from her pocket and she let out a huge sigh of relief as Ashley got back to work shelving some of the new stock, letting Kyrstin and Curtis deal with the short line of customers that had begun to form as they bought their books and whatever little trinkets littered the entire front of the store.

She hoped Chris and Josh got here soon, she was overdue for her lunch break and the smells coming out of the nearby food court were calling her name. Particularly the chinese place, she had been craving them for the last week at least . Plus, Jared had been raking her over coals about how her availability was going to drop dramatically once she started college in the next couple of weeks, and one of the creepy regulars had followed her around the store for-freaking- ever (she's pretty sure he had been staring at her ass the whole time too honestly) until Curtis had basically shoved her into the back room to let her escape while he covered for her. And surprise surprise, Jared hadn't been too thrilled about her 'abandoning her post' and yelled at her about that too.

Whoever said that working in a bookstore was a lazy job where she got to read books in her free time was a dirty, rotten liar. It was hell on earth and she was going to slowly tear the fingernails off whoever it was that said it (even though she had a sinking feeling it had probably be Ashley herself that said it back when she romanticized working in bookstores when she was, like, ten ). God, she really really needed that Chinese if she had any plans of surviving the last four hours of her shift.

The phone at the front desk behind her begins to ring, but a quick backwards glance has her realizing that with poor Curtis trying to deal with an older woman who is adamant that the book he's trying to sell her is the wrong one because she is 'positive that the book had a light purple cover and this one is lavender, that is two different colours and I want the right book now ' and Kyrstin being forced to deal with the rest of the line herself, that Ashley's the one who's going to have to answer the phone. With a groan of resignation (she hated answering the phone at work but Jared was in a horrendous enough mood as it was), she stood up and made her way over, repeating the greeting she was going to have to say over and over in her head so she (hopefully) wouldn't mess it up. And taking a deep breath, and repeating the greeting once more in her head, she forced a smile to her face as she picked up the handset.

"Hi! Thanks for calling—"

"Fucking finally Ash."

In an instant, Ashley could feel every ounce of nervous energy violently expel from her body as she nearly doubled over with another groan, this one entirely of exhaustion. She took quick glance over her shoulder, but Jared seemed to busy with another phone call in his office thankfully. "What are you doing Josh?!" she whispered angrily, "I'm at work right now you moron!"

"Uh yeah, I know. Why do you think I called you using this number?"

Ashley gave Kyrstin an apologetic and pained smile when she looked at her curiously, who responded with a good-natured shake of her head and a laugh under her breath as she turned to help the next customer. "Well, you didn't have to call here."

"Kinda did, Ash. You kept ignoring me."

"I was ignoring your calls you butt, you could have just texted me instead you know."

"Hmmm, no. Anyways I tried calling to tell you that Chris and I might not be able to meet up with you for lunch."

Ashley felt disappointment flood her entire being. "Oh. I see. But you really could have just—"

"We're at the hospital while Chris gets some x-rays done."

Immediately any disappointment fled her body as Ashley all but collapsed on the counter for support as her legs gave out on her. "Is he okay?! Oh god, is he okay Josh?!"

There's a pause on the phone and all Ashley can hear is her own blood pounding in her ears. He has to be okay. He has to be, he just has to be!

"I dunno, it was a pretty gnarly fall. Don't know if he'll ever truly recover, there was a lot of screaming after all."

Ashley doesn't even respond as she slams down the phone and turns to Kyrstin and Curtis who are looking at her in shock as her entire world falls to pieces around her. "I-I have to go. Chris is... Chris is..." she can't get anymore out with how it feels like someone is ripping her heart out of her chest. "Josh said he's in the hospital and...and..."

Curtis nods quickly as he runs to the staff room, and Kyrstin just starts shoving her towards the door as they all ignore the customers who are standing around awkwardly. "Go. We got this."

Ashley turns her head towards Jared's office. "But I gotta—and, and I need to grab my stuff—

"Nope. You go. Curtis and I will figure something out, and Becks arrives for her shift in another half hour. We can manage just fine until then. You just get out of here right now."

Ashley doesn't try to fight anymore than that, not with how hard she's fighting to hold back breaking down in the middle of the store after all. Curtis meets her at the entrance with her bag and shoves it into her arms. "Do you need me to call you a taxi, or give you a ride, or anything? Kyrstin can drag Jared out of his cave if she's gotta." Next to him, Kyrstin nods furiously in agreement.

Ashley has never loved anyone as much as she loves her coworkers in this instant. "No, my-my mom gave me the car for today."

With that little bit of approval, and a random customer shouting ‘I hope he's okay hun!’ at her, the two of them shove Ashley into the mall itself and the very instant she crosses that threshold she takes off running, shoving her way through people and nearly falling down the stairs in her effort to get to the parking lot as quickly as she can. She is so, so glad that her mom basically forced the car on her today instead of letting her take the bus as originally planned, she doesn't know how she would have lasted if she'd had to wait for a taxi to arrive and pick her up.

As it is, once she's finally (and somehow safely) managed to arrive at the hospital and found a spot to park, she's nonplussed about the fact that she didn't leave any imprints in the steering wheel from how hard she had been gripping it the whole drive over. She fumbles with the clasp on her seatbelt with shaking hands, almost bursting into tears about that fact alone, but she eventually manages to free herself and basically throws herself out of the car, only remembering to lock the door behind her when she's about halfway to the hospital doors.

The moment she bursts into the waiting room, Josh is sitting there waiting for her. He looks up at her in surprise as she hurries towards him, then down at his phone and back up at her again as he gives a low whistle. "Shit Ash, how many laws did you break to get here that fast?"

She ignores him. "What happened?! How is he?! Just tell me he's okay! Please, please tell me he's okay!"

"I mean, I suppose he's as fine as he could be considering the circumstances." He seems to sense that she's about ready to scream at him so he quickly follows up with "He's on the second floor, in room 272 if you want to see him."

Ashley doesn't even bother to thank him as she bolts to the nearby elevator, frantically pushing the 'Call Elevator' button nonstop until the door opens and then doing the same thing to the second floor button as it carries her up. Her eyes are burning in an effort to hold back her tears but she can tell that the dam is about to burst any second, especially with how long this elevator is taking to move. She doesn't even wait for the doors to open fully, squeezing through them the moment they're wide enough and accosting some poor nurse until he points her down the correct hall. She hurries the rest of the way, staring at every number on the wall until she finds room 272. And then she stops, her hand on the door knob as she braces herself for whatever she's going to find. Chris lying in bed, covered in blood and bandages with a heart monitor beeping next to him, just broken and shattered beyond all repair. With a choked back sob she opens the door—

and finds Chris sitting on the bed looking up at the ceiling bored to tears with a splint wrapped around his pinky and ring finger on his right hand.

"Finally! I thought you would never get here, so if we could just get this over with—" he looks over at her standing in the doorway shell shocked and still in her work uniform and jumps to his feet. "A-Ash?! What the hell are you doing here— Wait, did you just come here straight from work?! "

"You're okay?" Ashley hates how small her voice comes out, "You're really okay?"

"What? Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Who told you—"

Spell broken, Ashley’s bag falls from her shoulder to the ground with a small clatter and she dives towards Chris, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Oh thank god. Oh thank god. " Chris starts to return the hug, likely more than a little confused about what's going on, but she's already moved so her hands are on either side of his face as she tugs him down to her level so she can get a better look at him. Twisting and turning his head this way and that as she looks for any bruises or cuts. "Josh told me that there had been an accident and—"

"Ash!" Chris interrupts her by taking her wrists in his hands—though he winces at the pain that likely forms as a result of doing so—and speaks as calmly and reassuringly to her as he can. "Ash, it's okay. I'm fine . I promise. I just tripped earlier that's all."

Ashley takes in the sight of the scuffed up palms of his hands, and the holes in the knees of his jeans that certainly hadn't been there before, and knows that Chris is telling the truth. Though it doesn't explain the splint on his hand.

"Okay, and I might have broken my finger doing so."

Ashley just stands there so dumbfounded and relieved in equal measure, that she blurts out "Josh said that there had been screaming."

To her surprise, Chris only gives an embarrassed groan as he stares at an area just over her shoulder "God, Josh is never gonna let me live that down is he? Okay, so my finger may not have been the only thing that broke..." Confused, mainly because except for the bandaged finger and ripped jeans he seems perfectly okay, Ashley looks over her shoulder and follows his eyes to his phone laying on the counter just behind her. The screen completely shattered to hell and back with no promise of life anywhere on it. Just the dead, black screen reflecting the ceiling above on its cracked surface

"Wait," Ashley starts to feel the relieved giggles try to break free as her nerves finally settle, "are you telling me that you broke your finger but you were more worried about your phone? "

Chris sputters as he starts to wave his splinted finger infront of her face. "I mean obviously! This doesn't cost me any money to fix Ash; that's what health care's for! But my phone? Do you know how expensive that thing's going to be to replace? How many paychecks I'm going to have to put towards it? All the money I saved up this summer for school: gone! All because of a stupid little sidewalk curb!"

Ashley can't help it, she starts laughing uncontrollably as she collapses into a nearby chair with her head in her hands. "Oh, I am going to kill Josh when I see him, kill him! And then Jared's gonna kill me for bailing at work and not telling him! God, and I just left in the middle of a rush too! Remind me to buy Kyrstin and Curtis a cake or flowers or something as an apology. Oh my god ."

"You just ditched work? Ash!" Chris falls back onto the bed as he laughs with her. "Why would you even do that in the first place?!"

"Josh told me that you were in the hospital getting x-rays! What was I supposed to think?"

Chris rubs at his eyes beneath his glasses. "I asked him to let you know that we were probably gonna be a little late for lunch while I waited to get my cast! Fucking hell, I'm so sorry."

"Am I interrupting anything or..."

The two of them turn to see a doctor looking up at them with an upturned brow, and holding what Ashley assumes (and hopes) to be the materials needed for Chris's cast. "This is Chris Hartley's room correct?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. That's me."

The doctor nods, and walks towards Chris, but stops in front of the chair Ashley is sitting in. "I'm sorry, but I will be needing that chair sweetheart." With a squeak of apology, Ashley jumps out the chair and moves back by the door so fast that she's almost certain that she had managed to teleport over there, almost tripping over her forgotten bag in the process. Red-faced, she picks it back up and goes to leave (and possibly strangle Josh violently) but is stopped by the same doctor as she sits down in the chair with a chuckle, shaking her head. "You don't have to leave if you don't want to. It'll only take a couple of minutes to get this cast on and then he'll be free to leave with you."

Now even more red-faced (if that was even possible), Ashley just slowly shuffles over to the table where Chris's (broken) phone and wallet is, nervously fidgeting with the strap of her bag as she waits for Chris to get the cast on. Taking Chris's hand in her own, the doctor—Dr. Klorens her name tag reads—scowls at the now slightly bent fingers in the splint, which Chris only gives a sheepish shrug and smile to, and sighs as she unwraps his fingers so she can reset the splint. And Ashley blanches at the deep, dark bruises that spread all the way from the middle of his pinky to nearly halfway down his palm that she had completely failed to notice earlier before those are once again lost.

And as promised, once the Dr. Klorens has put the cotton sleeve over his hand and trimmed it to the desired length, it only takes her another couple of minutes to wrap starting from the center of his forearm and all the way up to the center of his palm and then finally finishing with his splinted fingers. As the three of them wait for the fibreglass material to dry, Dr. Klorens goes over the do's and don'ts of cast care, which Ashley takes serious note of because she knows that Chris won't. Especially the 'do NOT get the cast wet' part, he's gonna forget about that one the moment Josh tries to bait him into another water gun fight.

"Alright, I think that's about it. Just come back in three weeks so we can do another x-ray to check and make sure that the bone's all healed up before we remove it. Just let someone know that you're done with the room when you leave, and remember to check out at the front desk." She gathers up her supplies and makes to leave, but stops to look over her shoulder at them with an amused smile on her face. "Oh, and if you two take the stairs, just make sure that you're careful. I know that we're in a hospital already, but I don't think any of us want to deal with any more tripping instances. Especially if they result in another broken bone." After waiting for Chris and Ashley to meekly agree to be careful, she finally leaves the two of them alone once again.

"Welp, that's it for my summer. 'Fraid I'm nothing but a cripple now."

Sighing, Ashley turns to Chris with a tired smile. "You are not a cripple, oh my god. You have a broken finger, you didn't lose the entire arm you dork."

Incensed, Chris waves his cast at her. "Um, do you not see this thing Ash? I may as well have. I've lost the use of two of my fingers now! Two! And on my right hand to boot. I can't hold a controller to play games with, I can't type, I can't text. What am I supposed to do Ash if I can't hold a single thing in my dominant hand anymore?"

"I'm sure you'll manage," she dryly responds. "Now come on, let's get out of here. I have to figure out how in the world I'm going to explain this to Jared so he doesn't fire me."

"Pretty sure that you should just let him if you ask me."

Ashley groans in agreement, but says "It's only another couple of weeks until college starts. Just hoping I can hold out until then, I need the money after all."

Chris lets out a resigned breath but then starts eyeing her work apron. "You got a sharpie in there?"

"Um, I think so. Why?"

"Uh, so you can sign my cast, duh. You missed out when I broke my arm when I was like nine, so you can be the first to get your name on this one."

"Trying to weasel my autograph out of me huh?" Ashley asks even as she digs through one of her pockets to pull out the sharpie in question, and joins Chris to sit next to him on the bed.

Chris laughs. "Damn, you figured out my devious plan. Thing’s gonna be worth a fortune when you make it onto the bestsellers list one day. Gonna be fighting off all sorts of crazed and fanatic fans."

Ashley shakes her head as she chuckles and writes her name on his arm, but pauses when she caps the pen. Seeing her name on his cast suddenly pulls everything back into vivid clarity, and she remembers the panic she had felt when she had thought—when she had believed —that she had nearly lost him. That this was it, that he was here one day and gone the next, and she hadn't even told him how much he meant to her. How important he was to her. She watches as a drop of water splashes down onto the cast and she finds herself wondering if there's a leak in a room upstairs.

"What the—Ash? Are you crying?"

"Huh?" She wipes her eyes, and a surprised but weak laugh escapes when her hand comes away wet. "Oh, I guess I am. Sorry about that, you're supposed to keep the cast dry and here I am crying—"

Chris places his left hand on her cheek to help wipe away some of her tears. "Oh fuck, I really freaked you out didn't I? Fucking hell. I'm—"

"Do you promise not to hate me?"

The look Chris gives her is nothing short of bamboozled. "Hate you? Ash, what's going on with you?"

"Do you promise not to hate me? Please Chris, I really, really need you to promise me this. Please . Do you promise not to hate me?" She’s fully aware that she’s practically begging right now, silent tears flowing down her cheeks, but if it gets Chris to promise then she’ll gladly throw away her pride for this one thing.

"Yeah, I-I promise. Will you just—"

Ashley doesn't give him anytime to finish his sentence before she's squeezing her eyes shut and she surges up to kiss him. She doesn't want to see his expression, not when all she wants is just to remember everything else that is happening. Remember the feel of his lips before he pulls away, and the warmth of his hand on her cheek. In fact, she spends so much time trying to memorize what she is sure is only going to be a single shared kiss, that it takes her a few seconds longer than she would like to admit to realize that Chris's hand isn't on her cheek anymore, it's moved to the back of her neck so he can kiss her back . The shock of which is enough for her to break the kiss and stare at him with wide eyes.

"Wh—" that's all she can get out before Chris is pulling her back in for a second kiss, and this time she lets her eyelids flutter close as she completely melts into, throwing her arms around his neck to hold him closer.

Ashley's not sure how long they stay like that—could have been an eternity, could have only been a couple of seconds—before they're both pulling back with their faces flushed and giggling like morons.

"Wow," Chris says after a moment, "I don't know what made you think I could hate you after that , but wow . If I had known that this would be the reaction I get, I would have broken my finger years ago."

There's something about the way he says it that has Ashley's heart beating even faster. "How long?" she demands breathlessly, "Tell how long ago?"

Somehow, Chris manages to flush even deeper. "I dunno, like... six? I guess?"

Six years. He'd had a crush on her for six years and she'd had no idea. The moment the realization hits her she starts laughing. "I knew you were trying to ask me for a kiss back in seventh grade! I should have just chased you down and given you one anyway!"

This time, it's Chris who starts laughing at the realization. "Wait, you liked me too?! Then that kiss, back in the library...?"

"You still remember that?!"

"Remember it? Ash, that stupid little cheek kiss is the only reason I passed that final I'm sure! Hell, why else do you think Josh dared me to kiss you in truth and dare?"

"What? No he didn't!"

Chris shakes his head as he moves his hand from her neck to around her waist. "He did! He told me to 'return the favour' and all I had been thinking about that summer was kissing you back. Fucking hell, I almost killed him when he pulled me away to get that generator working that winter in the lodge."

"Oh my god, I almost jumped across the floor to you that night when the power went out after the bottle landed on you."

"You didn't!"

Chris sounded so scandalized at the idea that Ashley presses her forehead to his as her smile widens, which only causes his own to widen in turn. "I did! But then Josh pulled you away and I just completely lost my nerve." She starts laughing at the next memory. "Oh god, I kept my lamp on in my room after that hoping you would stop by if you thought I was still awake."

The answering gape in shock was all she needed before she broke into more giggles. "I saw that! I don't know how long I hovered outside your door trying to work up the courage to knock before talking myself out of it. I think I just convinced myself that the outage had freaked you out badly enough that you needed the extra light to get to sleep."

Once the giggles started to lessen, the smiles on their faces did so as well, softening to something warmer and infinitely more cozy. "I almost kissed you, you know," Ashley confessed shyly. "Back at your grad party."

"Yeah, I-I almost kissed you too. And, just so you know, I wasn't lying then. The flowers looked really really good on you."

"That's good to hear," she admits as she leans in closer, her lips brushing his so lightly it's almost a caress, "I kept them, after all."

Nothing more is said as Chris closes the distance between them again to kiss her, and even though she knows that they really should get back downstairs, she doesn't try to stop it.

They have a long six years to make up for after all.

#my writing #pride month prompt challenge #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #josh washington #chrashley #ignore the weirdly long and frankly unimaginative titles so far #i throw these into an ao3 and tumblr draft at like 2am to post the next morning #so my brain isn't exactly what i would call imaginative lol #or working in general asjkdhasdh #and yes it possible to break your finger in such a way that you need a full on arm cast for it to heal #i would know

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dreaminae · 4 years ago

Text

We All Need The One Friend

Chapter 8

Hours rolled by as sunlight shifted to moonlight. Friendly competition soon became dangerous as personal tensions rose within the group.

"Rise of Batman!" One person guessed of Jordan's pose.

"Transformers!" A friend playfully argued.

Jordan changes poses in hopes that it might be easier to guess.

With time up, Jordan cracked up as everyone failed to guess his term.

"Okay, what even was that?" Simone giggled.

"Back to the future." Jordan responded in a 'duh' tone as if everyone should've known. "Greatest movie of all time!"

"I've never watched that movie in my life." Simone chuckled, "Plus, the greatest movie of all time is Parasite. Hello!"

"Jordan doesn't do subtitles." J.J laughed. "Like have you met my man?"

Everyone joined in the laughter, but Simone couldn't help but feel like it was strange that she hasn't known a small detail like that.

The game went on as Vanessa took the reigns.

"One word." One person shouted.

"A place. No no, a person." Another one added to list of clues.

"Uh, a painting.... a movie." Layla interjected.

"No, a plane. Wait, what?" One of them fumbled over when Vanessa switched stances.

"You're on a plane."

Giggling, Vanessa changed gestures again.

"Bald. You're bald. A bald eagle." J.J guessed.

"No, not an animal." Vanessa choked up.

"Aye, no cheating." Jordan chuckled as Vanessa spoke.

"C'mon guys." Vanessa encouraged, ignoring Jordan's rules. "You had a poster of him in your room when your ten." She spat out in Asher's direction.

"Samuel L. Jackson!" Asher shouted, jumping up as if he won the lottery.

Liv glanced between the two of them as if they grew two heads. It was stupid how one small detail held a bigger picture.

"Well, you don't get a point for that one." Simone scrutinized, gaining a careless shrug from Vanessa.

The game rolled on, leading to Spencer's turn.

Galloping his feet and twirling his arm, Spencer caused everyone to gather into fits of laughter.

"A cowboy," Jordan shouted first.

"The rodeo." Asher chuckled.

"Wild, wild west." Layla joined in, holding back her laughs.

Adding to his performance, Spencer shook his foot hysterically, while twirling his arm like a madman.

Finally catching on to his charade, Olivia thought back to the night she made Spencer rewatch all her favorite childhood movies. Quoting one of her favorite lines, Spencer had her in hysterics for half an hour. She could still remember him using her belt as a rope, shouting 'There's a snake in my boot'.

"Woody," Olivia muttered with a small smile.

"What?" Her brother asked curiously, not completely hearing her response.

"It's woody!" Olivia laughed, which Spencer replied to with a smirk.

They met each other eyes, before bursting out, "There's a snake in my boot!"

The entire group fell out laughing, excluding Layla.

Spencer returned to his seat grinning like an idiot, but couldn't help but to notice his girlfriend's harsh mood.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Layla nodded lightly. "Guess I am just tired." She muttered, not bothering to look in his direction.

Sensing there was more to it, Spencer left it alone, not wanting to cause a scene in front of his friends.

"Alright, I have the perfect game to play next," Vanessa announced, as she returned from the house with her bottle of booze. "Anyone up for a game of Never Have I Ever. The more you've done the more you drink."

Her announcement soured the mood as Spencer immediately shut down her idea. "Sorry, Ma." Spencer asserted firmly. "Ain't bo drinking happening this weekend."

His eyes flew to Olivia, followed by everyone else's. She rolled her eyes at their dramatics.

"Oh, please. Don't stay sober on my account." Olivia dryly encouraged. After all, this was the first time in weeks she'd been completely sober. With all of her friends within proximity this weekend, drinking wasn't an option for her.

Noting Liv's bitter tone towards her, Vanessa tried to ease the tension. "Sorry, Liv. I forget that you don't drink. That was so insensitive of me." She apologized, placing the booze on the ground.

"It's okay. It's not something I'd expected you to know, so.." Liv shrugged it off, dismissing the subject all together.

"No, liquor. Got it." Vanessa summed up, ignoring Liv's clear implied diss of Vanessa's newness to their group.

Asher rubbed Olivia's thigh, silently asking her to lighten up. Cocking up a brow, she gave him her iconic 'I could careless' glare.

"No drinks doesn't mean no turn-up." J.J cheered. "Introducing the burns of all burns -- jalapeno-infused pickle juice."

"What don't you have in that box man?" Spencer questioned, seriously wondering where J.J randoms items came from.

"Let the burns begin."

---------------------------

"Alright, never have I ever walked in on my parents doing it." Simone started the game off.

First victim up, Asher gulped down his first dose of the throat burning juice.

"Oh, God. Asher. No!" Olivia cringed.

"I don't wanna talk it." Asher chuckled at the memory. "RV trip...'08....super weird."

"Oh, you're gonna talk about it." Spencer and Jordan laughed together.

"Not the one to up to Sanoma. How could you not to me?" Vanessa asked playfully, catching Olivia's attention yet again.

Liv couldn't help but wonder just how much did Vanessa know about Asher, that she didn't.

"Cause I was scarred for life," Asher replied, oblivious to the questionable expression of Liv's face.

"Alright, my turn. Never have I ever bought 300 dollars shoes for my one night in Vegas." Simone teased Olivia's bad spending habits.

Tensing up, Liv looked everywhere besides at Layla.

"No cheating. Drink up, Liv." Simone laugh, unaware of the big secret she just revealed.

Layla's eyes narrowed in Liv's direction, fed up with the secrets.

Spencer gawked at his girlffriend, realizing that he and Liv might have to come clean sooner than expected.

"Alright, never have I ever said I love you just to get someone to hook up with me." Vanessa added to game.

All the boys drank besides Spencer.

"Yikes, that was a test that you all failed." Vanessa taunted, "Besides Spencer."

"My bro is a real one. When he says it, he means it." J.J admired, increasing the growing tension between Spencer and his love interest.

In Liv's case, her heart clenched at the mentally, replayed memory of Spencer professing his love for her. She yearned to have a chance just to tell him how she felt, despite the chance he no longer felt the same.

However, in Layla's case, all the times that Spencer claimed to love her we're burning in a flame of betrayal. Because despite that fact she had no solid evidence, that conveyed her worse thought she knew Spencer wasn't being truthful with her.

"You're a lucky one, Layla."

Layla's sneer went unheard by the majority of the group besides the two people who knew the jig was up.

Unaware of the conflicts brewing, J.J continued the game. His hand already pointing at his aimed victim.

"Never have I ever ran naked through a football field."

Admitting the embarrassing memory, Jordan gulped back his shot of pickle juice.

"Jordan! Tell me you didn't!" Simone teased.

"Okay. Okay. I did it. I run through the field, butt naked." Jordan chuckled. "What was it? Freshmen year?"

He and J.J chuckled laughed over the recollection.

"Varsity team stole all of our clothes, thanks to Ash -- over here --- acting like he owned the place during tryouts" Jordan recalled funnily.

"Cause I did." Asher cockily popped his collar. "It's called confidence."

"Confidence. Okay." Jordan playfully mocked. "Whatever you want to call it. Your dumbass stays getting us in trouble."

Asher nodded with a knowing smile. But Vanessa saw nothing funny about it.

"Wow." She gasped seriously. "Okay. Never have I ever crapped all over folks that we're supposed to be my friends."

The laughter stopped, and the smiles dropped in reaction to Vanessa switch up.

"Uh, Vanessa it's alright." Asher tried to jump in before she took things too far.

"It's just jokes." Jordan defended himself, not seeing the harm in messing around.

Vanessa's scornful expression was enough for Jordan to see that she couldn't disagree more.

Maybe it was her role as a protective sister that came into play. Perhaps, it was the jealously towards Vanessa knowing things about Asher that Liv didn't. Or maybe it was simply that Liv didn't feel Vanessa had any right to make presumed assumptions on any of the dynamics within their group when Vanessa barely knew any of them beyond a first-name basis.

Whatever it was, Vanessa's attempt to trash talk her twin was Olivia's last straw. And with that, she felt it was only right to return the favor.

"Hmm, well, Never have I ever spent the summer getting to somebody else's boyfriend a little too much." Liv snapped at Vanessa.

"Liv! What the hell!" Asher choked up, unable to believe that she publically humiliated Vanessa in that manner.

"Yo, Ash. Relax. Let's just play the game." Jordan instructed, trying to ease the tension he caused.

"You wanna play? Fine." Asher groaned. "Never have I ever cheated a concussion protocol to play in a game." He added spitefully.

"What is he talking about?" Simone inquired seriously, over the entire game. "You cheated your concussion protocol? How could you not tell me something like that?"

"You mean like you told me about Princeton?" Jordan asked, trying to guilt trip her right back.

"Wow!" Simone gasped in awe, tossing her blanket aside before storming off.

"Ah, babe, wait! I didn't mean it like that!" Jordan quibbled, following behind Simone. "Baby, wait. Sweetie!"

With the fun atmosphere ruined, the remainder of the group broke off to deal with their own problems.

-----------------------------

"Can you believe Liv?" Asher groaned, as he and Layla entered the kitchen.

"Not really. Find it hard to believe anyone with all the secrets that's been hidden." Layla replied harshly.

"What do you mean?" Asher asked, clueless.

"Simone's Never Have I Ever!" Layla responded in a duh tone. "When has Olivia ever gone to Vegas."

"Olivia wouldn't lie about going to Vegas. She has no reason to." Asher scoffed.

"You mean like she had no reason to lie about being in Mexico." Layla revealed.

"Liv came to Mexico? When?" Asher asked desperately. "She never told me."

"She went to Mexico to surprise her boyfriend." Layla groaned, annoyed that she had to be the one to tell him. "Only when she got there she saw you and random girl boo'd up." She gestured towards Vanessa as the brunette and J.J entered the room.

"Wait, you and Asher?" J.J asked heartbroken, catching the last part of Layla's statement. "Since when?"

"Where's Olivia now?" Asher requested to know, needing to hear all of this from her.

"I don't think that" Spencer began to suggest against going after Liv, but was interrupted by his girlfriend.

"She's down by bonfire," Layla interjected before her boyfriend could continue to shield his side piece from the mess they made.

Bypassing the other three teens, Asher went to find his girlfriend and demand some answers. Meanwhile, Vanessa and J.J left Spencer and Layla to handle their business in private.

------------------------------

#3x07 #all american #olivia and spencer #spelivia #olivia baker #spencer and olivia #spencer james #3x06

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alexaplaysgames · 4 years ago

Text

Nodus Tollens

Pairing: June x F!Traveller (Celeste)

Fandom: Andromeda Six (I know the fan base isn’t huge so I encourage those who haven’t played to read these and see if you’d like to try it out!)

Warnings: Angst, minor mentions of gore and death.

Words: ~ 1800

Description: When Traveller tries to save June instead.

Notes: I chose my traveller for this little fic but will totally take requests if you’d like me to use yours. Just pop into me DMs and make a request! Also, this is one of several fics for A6 that I have so let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

This is self indulgent nonsense and I am sorry. I will do better next time. Actually I probably won’t.

Tags: @amlovelies @writersgonefishing @oatssss @kimberrrrr @femmeshep @serana-spring

There’s a sort of weightlessness to death.

An instant where you rest suspended in the between. Passed from warm hands into a cold, steel grip, there’s a split second where everything stops. Life no longer holds meeting and death has yet to make known its cruel face, so you are left...

Waiting.

It takes a moment for Celeste to realize that this isn’t the weightlessness she’s feeling. The sensation of suspense is not one due to hovering between life and death. The strength which holds her is not of some otherworldly being.

She looks up and sees kindly grey eyes. June cradles her head with gentle, reserved strength. Tawny strands of his hair fall against his forehead as he looks down at her with an expression of fear and unbridled concern, one that is utterly unfamiliar on the usually calm gunman’s features.

His fingers press against her side and withdraw, sticky and crimson with blood.

“Celeste,” June whispers, though it’s faint with the ringing in her ears.

Her name on his lips sounds sad, agonized even. The feeling that knowledge invokes within her is foreign. Once, existing only as the youngest child in a line of royals, fated for a life in the shadows, she held the belief that no one would mourn her death. Now, the look of anguish on his face makes guilt flare in her gut; she doesn’t want to hurt him like this.

He pulls her close against his chest, draws her into his arms as easily as if she were, truly, weightless. She knows of the strength that lies hidden under the layers of his sweet, gentle exterior, buried under his warm smiles and soft, thoughtful gestures.

Her fingers’ weak grasp finds his wrist, delving into the crisscrossed scars written in his skin. In them, she finds the affirmation she seeks.

Even if it drains her of blood, life, and spirit, it was worth it. For in this, just once, he will remain untouched.

She wakes to metal tables and blinding white light.

“Hey, easy now,” comes Ryona’s soothing tone. Her pale blue skin and soft, pretty features follow as she stands from her desk before rushing to Celeste’s side.

Ryona immediately starts fluttering around, reading numbers on screens and pressing buttons as Celeste puts her hand over the bandage on her newly-sewn side with a wince.

“You’re in the med bay. Came in pretty banged up, if I do say so myself. June had to carry you back.”

The incessant ringing has cleared to the steady beeping of the surrounding machines. For the second time, it occurs to Celeste in her clarity, that man has pulled her back from the brink of death and carried her toward safety in his arms.

“I’ve never seen our cowboy quite so upset,” Ryona adds, her tone full of meaning. “He really cares about you. Remember that if he-“

Celeste shifts on the table. “If he what?”

“I had to give you eight stitches, and you lost a lot of blood. You should-”

“Ryona.”

Golden eyes, filled with conflict, meet green.

“June doesn’t handle strong emotion well. He’s afraid it makes him volatile, destructive. Dangerous.”

“Oh.” The plastic sheet crinkles as Celeste settles back against it. The non-answer makes her nervous. “Okay.”

“He’ll be fine,” Ryona comforts, squeezing her ankle softly as she sits down by her feet. “Luckily, so will you. I was worried.”

Celeste stumbles in her attempt to formulate a reply. “I- thank you.”

The words stir some strange sentiment within her, an immense wave of affection threatening to drown her in their wake. Never in her life did she imagine she would be lucky enough to be cared for so deeply by people so utterly kind.

Suddenly, a knock sounds at the door, startling both women where they sit.

“That’s probably June. He sat by your side for hours until he went to get a blanket. Said you looked cold,” then, louder, “come in!”

June almost has to duck under the door, given his immense height, and he enters carrying a stack of blankets high enough to clothe a small army.

“I didn’t know which ones-“ he begins, setting the stack of fabric on the countertop, then trails off as he registers the sight before him.

“You’re awake.”

Silence ensues. Ryona’s eye flit between the two of them before she stands, says, “I’ll be outside if you need me,” and excuses herself with a warm, supportive smile over her shoulder.

“June-“

“I am so, so sorry,” he breathes, air rushing forward from his lungs, coming to kneel by her side. His eyes search her face, looking for what, she doesn’t know.

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I should’ve protected you. I shouldn’t have let you get hurt.” He looks disgusted with himself. This, this self-loathing, is something she recognizes. “There are a lot of things I should have done,” he adds softly.

Celeste moves to sit up and hisses as the skin around her bandages stretches.

Realization dawns in June’s eyes before they shift to her side. “Can I?”

She nods, lifting the edge of her shirt to reveal the expanse of fabric that hides her wound. Looking briefly into her eyes for confirmation, June lets his fingers brush against her skin, tracing the edges of the bandage and sending a tingling feeling up Celeste’s spine. At every point where their skin meets, warmth trickles outwards from his fingertips, seeping through her skin and settling in her veins. She can feel his breath, the unmistakable warmth of it, against her bare skin.

“You’ll have a scar,” June murmurs.

“So? You already have so many.”

He frowns. “I don’t want you to be like me, Celeste. I don’t want to make you like me. How could you- that’s the last thing I want.”

“You told me to run and I chose not to. You didn’t make me do anything. I’m responsible for my own actions. Did you really think I would leave and risk you getting hurt?”

That seems to throw him for a loop. His jaw drops slightly, eyes wide. “You- you wanted to protect me?”

She traces a featherlight touch along his cheek with a shaking hand. June’s eyelashes flutter, briefly, at her touch. “Of course.”

“You’re delusional,” June says, though it lacks any bite. He simply sounds lost, a little confused. “I’ve survived much worse than a back-alley gunfight. I can handle a few more scars.”

“But you shouldn’t- you shouldn’t have to.”

She swallows, jaw working as she looks toward the ceiling, yet she can see how he shakes his head, features pulled between frustration and overwhelming torment. “You shouldn’t have to put yourself in danger for me. I’m not worth that.”

“But you are-“

“I am not.” And the finality of his words draws her gaze towards his once more. She sees something there that she’s only seen once before, the day she stood outside his cabin and he shut the door in her face .

Anger. Fire, bright flames quickly smothered with a brush of his large palm over his face.

He breathes deep, chest rising with the motion under his vest. His grey eyes look more like steel than rainclouds as he speaks. “If you can’t follow orders, I won’t be able to take you on supply runs any longer.”

“June, please. You don’t mean that.”

She doesn’t know what she’s asking for. Acceptance? His friendship? His love? Would she dare?

Could he even give her such a thing?

“I’ll see you in the morning, Celeste.” June stands again, sleeves shifting further up his forearms to show his scars. “Get some sleep.”

He doesn’t once look back once as the door closes behind him.

The metal table beneath her feels so much colder without him there. How cruel he is, to let her taste what it’s like to have him by her side, then rip it away. Left with nothing but the hum of machinery and her thoughts, she begins to wonder if she’s broken, or he is.

Or maybe they’re both broken, she thinks. Maybe they both have jagged edges, and no matter how hard she tries to fit them together, there will always be a little space in between.

It’s an uncomfortable thought, one that lulls her to sleep under fluorescent lights and the weight of her own fractured heart.

Outside, June slumps against the wall, running his hand through his hair with a sigh.

How his heart ached when he turned her affection aside, how he wanted nothing more than to relish in the feeling of her caring for him, for him, to bask in it and soak in it and let it fill all of his cracks and crevices and make him whole.

And how he knew, just as deeply and with equal certitude, that that was the last thing he could ever let himself do.

He is no stranger to pain. But the hurt he feels now is different, gnawing at a part of himself he didn’t know existed. Not since he closed it off, so long ago. Not since-

No. Not going there. No amount of time will strength long enough for him to open those doors again.

Just look at what you’ve done to her already. All you’ll ever do is hurt her.

June presses his fists into the wall by his sides, hands trembling with the effort not to leave dents in the metal. It’s so easy for him to break and ruin, so difficult to build. And that is why he cannot have her. He won’t let her become another beautiful thing shattered by the strength in his hands.

How difficult she makes it, when she looks at him as if he’s fragile, when her lips form words like care and protect and things he never thought a monster like him could ever hope to receive. He wants to lay himself down at her feet and thank the gods for giving him something so sweet.

But he is dangerous and he is deadly and he has no idea how to love someone the way she deserves.

“You could stand to let someone in, every once in a while.”

Ryona crosses her arms as she leans against the wall beside him, one eyebrow raised.

“I won’t kill you to let yourself feel, June.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about killing.”

June tries not to flinch as she lays a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not the monster you think you are,” she says.

A part of him wants to scream, to say that she doesn’t understand, that’s she’s wrong, but that part is smothered by the warmth that bubbles in his chest at her words.

He lets his head hit the wall and closes his eyes. “I don’t know if you’re right.”

“Am I ever wrong?” Ryona grins, eyes twinkling.

He has to admit, she does have a point.

“I hope you’re able to work this out,” she says, pushing herself off the wall. She walks back into the med bay and June keeps his eyes scrunched closed until he hears the door slam shut.

More than anything, he hopes for that too.

#Juniper Nyux #Andromeda Six #Andromeda Six Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Visual Novel #A6 #Andromeda 6 #Andromeda Six June #June x Traveler #Ryona Mi'Haden #A6 fanfiction #Andromeda Six Traveler #A6 June #A6 Ryona

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fallout-lou-begas · 4 years ago

Photo

Elevated Extras: Ranger Ghost Companion

You a Courier? If so, this might be your lucky day...if you don't mind walking a bit and your eyes are good.

(Original sketch by @tarberrymentats / based on the OC Companion Meme by @falloutfandomeventhub / if you borrow this concept please tag it as #fallout elevated extras)

General

Name: Ranger Ghost

Location: Mojave Outpost

How to obtain: Complete the sidequest “Keep Your Eyes on the Prize,” then begin the sidequest “Giving Up the Ghost” to get her reassigned from the Mojave Outpost. Once freed of her assignment, she can travel with the Courier to monitor Legion activity throughout the Mojave.

Companion Quest: “Giving Up the Ghost.”

Ranger Ghost, like everyone else, is sick and tired of being stuck at the Mojave Outpost. Unfortunately, orders are orders. With the courier’s help, though, she just might be able to come down from that rooftop, but dealing with NCR bureaucracy might be a worse ordeal than Legion crucifixion.

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together. You probably can’t tell, but that’d make me very happy. Let’s get the hell out of here.

Let’s talk about your tactics. Sure. Lecture the ranger on tactics. Go ahead. / What’re you thinking?

I want you to change your combat style. (humoring) Alright. / If you insist.

Use a melee weapon. Close combat, then. / Sure. We can hold their hands and tuck them in while we’re at it. / (Wild Wasteland Enabled) Try to remember the basics of CQC.

Use a ranged weapon. (stating the obvious) It’s what I do. / You going to spot for me? / (deeply sarcastic) Aww. Finally remembered I’m a ranger?

Be passive. Sure, give peace a chance. / Don’t go pacifist on me, now.

Be aggressive: Locked and loaded. / (mocking the company line) Right, and with “extreme prejudice.”

Enough about tactics. Agreed. Anything else? / Are we good, then?

Let’s talk about how close you’re following me. Is there a problem? / What are you...implying, exactly?

Wait here. Right. Things to do, places to be? / Holding down here. / I’ll keep watch here.

Follow me. Let’s roll out. / Finally. Don’t like waiting. / Right. Skip to my fucking lou.

Stay close to me. (sternly cautious) Define “close.” / Got it, on you. / Just don’t bump my gun.

Keep your distance. Positioning, got it. / Yeah, covering you. / (facetious concern) Don’t get lost, now.

Let’s trade equipment. Don’t get fucking handsy, now. / Just don’t hog the ammo.

(Overburdened). I’m not your fucking pack brahmin. / (exasperated) I’ve only got so many pockets.

(Sneaking). Staying low. / (wryly imperative) Quiet, now.

(In Courier’s iron sights). What the fuck is wrong with you? / (slowly, emphasizing) Watch your trigger discipline. / Don’t make me take that away.

(Courier lays mine). I’ve got my eyes on that. / You’d better have a plan for that.

It’s time for us to part ways. It’s because i’m a bitch, isn’t it. / Such sweet fucking sorrow, I bet.

I’d like you to go to the Lucky 38. Hm. Sending the Ghost to the haunted house. See you there. I’ll try not to spook the Securitrons.

We can meet again at the Mojave Outpost. (sucks teeth) Guess I’ll report what I’ve got back to headquarters. Hopefully by now they’ve got someone else watching the brahmins shit full-time.

Injured: (seething) SSShhit. / Didn’t want it like this. / (with conviction) I didn’t get off that roof just to fucking bite it.

Damaged Limb: (shout of pain) Fucker clipped me! / Sure could use a fucking medic.

Regaining Consciousness: What...what the hell happened? / (trailing off) Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Death: (death rattle) / (weakly) Ghosts...can die, huh...ha...

Attributes

Aggression: Aggressive.

Confidence: Brave.

Assistance: Helps friends and allies.

Karma: Neutral.

Perks

Ghost of a Chance: When Ranger Ghost is by your side, so are the odds. In addition to gaining an extra 3% chance to critically hit, any single attack that would kill you may instead leave you just barely alive and invulnerable for a brief moment..

Drops, if killed

Ranger Vest Outfit

Ranger Grey Hat

Authority Glasses

Cowboy Repeater

Combat Knife

Iguana Bits

Grognak the Barbarian

Dialogue, Quest Details, and Ending Slides:

Dialogue

Why do they call you Ghost? What, don’t I scare you? Boo? Nothing? (beat) Well, if you gotta know, it stuck pretty quick back in basic. Not like there were many other albinos in boot camp. The all-white spooky bitch who shoots better at night? Yeah, that’s a ghost, alright. Pissed me off at first, but I came around when it started giving privates the heebie-jeebies. Just a little kick, is all.

What’s an albino? Albinism is a pigment disorder. You know, the color of your skin and hair? As in I don’t have color. Pale as a sheet.

[Medicine 35] A sharpshooter with albinism? Isn’t your vision affected? Done your homework, huh? Well, these big, bad sunglasses aren’t just for intimidation, doc. They only come off when I sleep. Sucks enough being photosensitive in the goddamn desert, but like I said. I’m a lot better at night.

What’s your real name? (the thousandth time she’s answered this exact question) If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.

Aw, come on. Curiosity killed the courier. Don’t push it.

[Speech 40] I’m just trying to understand my partner better. Then “understand” that I don’t owe you shit except loyalty. Just call me Ghost, and you’ll get that.

[Cherchez La Femme] Surely you’ve got a name to match that lovely personality. (flustered) Are you d-...I-...Yeah, I do.But you can just keep calling me Ghost. (quietly) For...for now.

What’s the deal with Ranger Jackson? Man hasn’t got a thought in his fucking head...which is why he’s such a good C.O., from the top down. He’s a nice enough guy on a good day. He’s...principled, for sure. But the man wouldn’t budge on an order from brass if it’d save his life. Stranded caravaneers get so bored and restless because of the impasse he’s overseeing that he’s started (excessive emphasis) “hiring” the rowdier ones for odd jobs off the grounds, which is why we’ve been “losing” supplies for a while. Gets shit done, I guess, but wish he’d show half that drive when bitching to HQ, but no. They tell him to sit tight, he says yes sir, and then he takes it out on us when we get frustrated at the frustrating bullshit.

Do you know Major Knight? (standoffish) Yeah. Good guy. Known him a while. Hell, he’s been at M.O. longer than I have.

What does he do? Repairs, mostly. With all the caravans backed up, we sort of have a monopoly on maintenance and upkeep. And believe me, he does damn fine work.

[Confirmed Bachelor] Is he...you know…? Is he...oh. Between you and me? Yeah. He and I are...alike. I mean, I’m the bitch everybody hates, so I don’t really give a shit, but beneath that…(thinking how best to describe him, ribbing him a bit)...accountant exterior of his, he’s really the soft, sensitive type. Needs someone to talk to sometimes. I’m that someone, sometimes, but if you get the chance...it’d do him good just to know he’s not that alone out here.

How can I best use your skills? Hard to find a way that’d be worse than all the wasted time at M.O., but I’ll make it easy for you: give me a target and let me shoot it. If it’s too close to shoot, I’m trained in hand-to-hand, and if it’s too far to shoot, it’ll never see me coming. Standard repertoire for a ranger.

What’s your opinion on the NCR? High enough to keep me enlisted, low enough to where I’ve got plenty to mock. We’re a good country, a damn good country. We’re the only real country actually left in the West. We’d be the best thing to ever crawl out of the bombed-out ruins of this war if it weren’t for all the bureaucratic bullshit, and the brass getting duller the higher you go. It’s all just song and dance and sloganeering to them out here. Whatever looks good on paper. They don’t give a shit what really happens to people out here, and if Caesar doesn’t kill us, that might. At least on the inside.

What’s it like being a ranger? Ranger training is the best, most brutal gauntlet this side of the Colorado. Hours and hours of days and days spent shooting, drilling, fighting, bringing the body to its breaking points, pouring blood and sweat just to get an inch past the wide-eye hopefuls who were always going to just wash out...and all of it just to stand on a fucking rooftop staring at ants and malnourished raiders on the interstate. I swear, if you gave headquarters a golden egg, they’d fucking cook it.

Were you at the battle of Hoover Dam? Was going to be, but believe it or not, I sat out sick. Got the fucking flu right before and was stuck at McCarran the whole time, half-lucid. Let me tell you, the whole tent of coughs and sneezes crowding around that radio, listening to the reports...when Hanlon ordered that retreat out of Boulder City, we were grabbing our rifles and getting ready to march out on foot, even if we could barely stand. We thought that was it. Of course, it wasn’t, and we cheered so loud when they radioed about the explosion that I hope Caesar damn well heard it.

Do you wish that you had been there? Of course I do. If I miss the next one because I’m stuck at the Outpost or some shit, I’m deserting with a dozen fed-up caravaneers to flank his fucking fort myself, if only for some goddamn excitement.

How do you feel about the Legion? Love ‘em. Joined the NCR because I just wanted to meet them that bad. Their new Legate’s such a heartthrob, I hear.

You’re not serious. (sucks teeth, deep sigh) Look. You saw Nipton. It was just a taste of what they do. I’ve seen good men die on crosses, and that’s a mercy compared to the good women. I hear when women sign up now, they get about five extra “are you sures?” from recruiters. Not officially, of course. Brass would never let people back home know how bad it is. But it’s just another thing that makes me glad I’m a sniper, sometimes. Engage at range. Out of reach.

What about Legion society? Do you know anything about life across the river? There’s nothing across that river. Nothing. (beat, pondering) Do you remember the Enclave War? Bitter, bloody, big explosion at Navarro? And the Brotherhood campaign out here? Even worse of a shitshow, but still, we won that out, too. But the Enclave and the Brotherhood at least stood for something. They were societies, or at least promises of one, and if things had shaken out the other way for the NCR at least something would still be standing here. The Legion isn’t like that. They aren’t “something.” They’re one big razor across Arizona, shaving everything down. And if we don’t stop them here, we never will.

What about their Legate? (with contempt) Lanius, “The Monster of the East.” Caesar must’ve plucked him out of hell or something after his first legate blew it at Hoover Dam. Word from recon is that the only reason we’re all still twiddling our thumbs there is that he’s out making friends for Caesar someplace, and he’ll be bringing them all back for a whole ‘nother goddamn jamboree soon. (tension broken by a funny thought; spoken dryly) Or should I say a Damboree. Since it’d be at the Dam.

Do you know anything about Mr. House? No. Closest I’ve ever been to the Strip has been McCarran, where I was too proud to get wasted on expensive booze in the casinos. As punishment, I got stuck with nothing to do but get shitfaced on cheap booze at the outpost. All I know is Mr. House runs the whole Strip himself, and there’s one casino, the Lucky 36 or something, that’s supposed to be all his. No one’s allowed in, no one’s ever come out. Frankly? Just strikes me as fucking weird.

Companion Quest: Giving Up the Ghost

After completing the sidequest “Eyes On the Prize” (in which the Courier checks Nipton for survivors), Ghost will remark that the Mojave’s going to hell, and all she can do is sit and watch. The Courier will reply that she ought to stop watching and travel with them, to which she’ll respond that her orders are absolute—but if the courier can change her orders somehow, she’d be indebted. The quest then begins.

= = = Stage 1: Deal with Jackson = = =

First, the Courier must speak to Ranger Jackson and convince him to consider Ghost’s reassignment. They can do this through the following dialogue options:

[Speech 80] This outpost is just waiting to be overrun by Legion. You’ll be the next Nipton unless you’re proactive.

[Speech 55; completed “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart” beforehand] Maybe I could tell your superiors about where I “found” these “lost” supplies, then.

[Barter 80] Ghost is an exceptional asset to the rangers. Stationing her here is a waste of valuable NCR resources.

[NCR Fame] There’s work to be done for the NCR out there, and Ghost is who I trust to do it with me.

[Black Widow] I’ve ways of making men come around...especially handsome men in uniform. (The Courier must then sleep with Ranger Jackson)

Note that the Courier can not simply complete the quest “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart?” as a favor to Jackson for Ghost’s reassignment. While he’ll let a caravaneer go, it’ll take more than clearing some ants from the road to get him to compromise his standing force and let go of a ranger.

Alternatively, Jackson’s death will advance the quest.

Kill Jackson. Similar to Cass’ companion quest, Jackson can simply be killed. However, Ghost is far less sympathetic to this course of action and will confront the Courier over the murder. If Jackson is simply killed, the Courier will either need a convincing alibi [Speech 90] to argue that they weren’t responsible or admit to the murder. If the Courier fails the Speech check or admits to the murder, Ghost will turn hostile (“Maybe you didn’t fucking think this through, but do you know what we call someone who kills an NCR ranger? An enemy of the NCR rangers. Now, eat shit.”). Alternatively, the Courier can intimidate Ghost into silence with a [Terrifying Presence] option, after which a shaken but seething Ghost will simply ask the Courier to leave the outpost and never come back. Passing the Speech check is the way to not fail the quest from this option.

Kill Jackson and frame Cass. If the Courier kills Jackson themself, attempting to loot Jackson’s body will trigger a message suggesting that they could frame Cass for the murder by splashing whiskey on the body (so long as Cass is not currently the player’s companion and is currently at the Mojave Outpost, not the Lucky 38). By adding a whiskey bottle to Jackson’s body without themself or the body being discovered in the meantime, they can successfully implicate Cass for the murder, and explain as much to Ghost. She’ll buy it, since Cass was one of the most frustrated residents of the outpost and was drunk almost all the time. Cass will then disappear from the game, and if Lacey, Major Knight, or Ghost (if the Courier left the outpost before speaking to her again) are asked, they will explain that Cass was arrested by the NCR.

Have someone else kill Jackson. A desperate, fed-up caravaneer named Paul by the brahmin pens is willing to kill Jackson for 5,500 caps. This price can be negotiated down to 4,000 with a [Barter 60] check, and 3,500 with [Barter 75]. At midnight that night, Paul will attempt to sneakily kill Jackson. Alternatively, Paul can be incensed into attacking Jackson immediately and for free with a [Hot Blooded] trait check. In either case, though, there is no guarantee that Paul will succeed, and if Paul is killed then the Courier must advance the quest another way (though they can loot their spent caps from Paul’s body). When spoken to afterwards, Ghost will remark that she saw the Courier speaking to Paul and ask if they had anything to do with it. By passing a [Speech 50] check, the Courier can convincingly lie that they were trying to talk him out of it. With either the [Black Widow] or [Cherchez la Femme] perks, the Courier can lie and say that Paul very foolishly did it to try to impress them. With [Low Intelligence] the Courier can earnestly say that they thought “taking care” of Jackson meant doing something nice for him.

Somehow allow Jackson to die. If Jackson just somehow dies in an unaccounted way, such as from a spawned-in deathclaw eviscerating him in his own office, Ghost will remark on the strangeness of the situation but won’t blame the Courier. This is a failsafe option to prevent quest breakage.

= = = Stage 2: Find a Replacement = = =

If Jackson is alive, he’ll agree with the Courier that he ought to let Ghost go, but he’s still under orders to maintain a standing force at Mojave—a standing force which includes a highly trained sniper. If Jackson has been killed, Ghost will mention that Major Knight is next in command and would be glad to give her clearance, but that he won’t be able to do so without a replacement sniper, either. Either way, the Courier is tasked with finding a suitable replacement. The Courier can ask her for advice:

Who should I look for to be your replacement? They have to be NCR, obviously. Ex-NCR might work, too, so long as they’re in good standing. Any Dick or Jane off the road is a no-go, since brass put the kibosh on officially contracting mercenaries. Oh, and anyone you get would have to be well-trained. Not necessarily a ranger, but good enough to replace one, even for a sit-on-the-shitter job like this. Only the best and brightest get to stare at this fucking road all day, apparently.

Where should I look for your replacement? If you checked out some of the ranger stations around the Mojave, they might be able to move some people around. Hell, take it all the way to McCarran if you want, or with Hanlon. If you’re going to give them shit on my behalf, by all means, go nuts. A lot of higher-ups can be greased with enough favors, anyway. Whoever you get just needs the right credentials. Legion attacks get dragged asses and twiddled thumbs, sure, but bad paperwork would set a goddamn fire at headquarters.

The following characters can be recruited as the Mojave Outpost’s new watch:

A generic ranger. By speaking to the commanding officers of at least three of the NCR ranger camps across the Mojave with sufficient [NCR Fame], the Courier can speak to Chief Hanlon to arrange for Ghost’s replacement with a generic ranger. This option is impossible if “Return to Sender” has already been completed.

Craig Boone. If the Courier has completed “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” in a way that makes Boone repentant over his past, he can be persuaded to take over Ghost’s position as a good way to put his skills to use. Otherwise, he will refuse, either preferring to stay in Novac where he lived with Carla or not wanting to be stuck as a watchman again when he could be out killing Legionnaires. If selected, Boone’s home marker will change from Novac to the Mojave Outpost.

Manny Vargas. Novac’s other sniper can be convinced to take up Ghost’s post, but only if the Courier has completed “One For My Baby,” “Come Fly With Me,” and eradicated the Legion presence from Nelson. Once convinced that Novac seems safe, for now, he’ll be willing to reenlist if paid a generous salary. The Courier can either pay Manny 5,000 caps to reenlist now, pass a [Barter 65] check to explain that it’s a provisional reenlistment and reduce their bribe to 3,000, or if the Courier has already passed the [Confirmed Bachelor] check in dialogue with Knight, they can tell Manny about the cute little major sitting behind the desk all day there by his lonesome. Once convinced, Manny will relocate to the Mojave Outpost and take Ghost’s place.

Bryce Anders. This keen-eyed ranger can be recruited to Ghost’s position if he is rescued from the Vault 3 Fiends by the Courier. Once spoken with in Camp McCarran, the Courier can explain that the Mojave Outpost needs a new ranger stationed there. He will defer to Colonel Hsu’s authority on reassignments, and with a successful [Speech 60], [Medicine 40], or [NCR Fame] check, Hsu will agree to the reassignment on the grounds that it’s a useful position still sedentary enough to not complicate the ranger’s recovery.

Little Buster. The listless bounty hunter at Camp McCarran is looking for another career path and would be willing to take over Ghost’s do-nothing position. However, the only way to recruit him is to fabricate both credentials and enlistment records by either stealing personnel files from either Colonel Hsu’s office at Camp McCarran or from the filing cabinets at Camp Golf, or speaking to Daniel Contreras, who “knows a guy” who’ll take care of it if the Courier has already acquired access to Contreras' expanded inventory by siding with him in the unmarked quest “Dealing with Contreras.”

Private Halford. The sole survivor of Camp Guardian mentions that he wants to head back home through Mojave Outpost after being rescued from the mirelurk caves, at which point the Courier can mention no one is allowed to leave through there, and ask if he’d like to take Ghost’s position there instead. At first he’ll refuse, but with a [Speech 45] or [NCR Fame] check he can be convinced that a quiet, do-nothing watch assignment would be a lot better than anything else after what happened at Camp Guardian, to which he’ll agree. He will also relocate to the Mojave Outpost after being freed anyway, getting stuck like everyone else so that the speech check can be re-attempted. However, Halford isn’t considered well-trained enough for a ranger’s job. The Courier must speak to Jackson (or Knight, if Jackson is dead) and pass a [Speech 80] or [NCR Fame] check to make a strong endorsement, or a [Survival 55] check to explain how impressive it is that he survived an attack from so many mirelurks. Alternatively, the Courier can fabricate impressive enough credentials through the options required to assign Little Buster.

Once Ghost’s replacement has been assigned to the Mojave Outpost, the Courier only needs to speak to Ghost again. She will explain that she’s been “reassigned” to open patrol across the Mojave, ostensibly to track Legion activity, so long as she does so with the Courier. She also gains an additional dialogue option dependent on your choice of replacement:

What do you think of your replacement?

(Generic ranger) For this job? Any ranger’s as wasted as any other. I almost feel bad, I doubt she’ll like that fucking roof any more than I did...almost feel bad. Doesn’t quite cancel out the relief.

(Boone) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Strikes me as the...quiet, contemplative type. Likes to think. Not much else to do up there, anyway. I bet those brahmin pins have never felt safer.

(Manny) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Seems like a nice enough guy, and seems to be getting along with Major Knight. Hell, you love to see it.

(Bryce) A good man. Heard about what the Fiends did to him, and after all that, he certainly deserves a break. Didn’t think of this shit job as much of a vacation before, but seems like it’ll do him good.

(Buster) Not sure where the hell you found this guy, but if (Jackson / Knight) gave the okay, then...okay. I would’ve put a goddamn brahmin in a beret up there if it could have gotten me another assignment.

(Halford) The mirelurk guy? Yeah, he seems alright. I’ve never actually seen a mirelurk, but after hearing his story, I don’t think I want to. I didn’t even know we had a camp that far up there.

Speaking to Ghost after her replacement takes her position completes the quest, and from then on, she can now be recruited as a companion. However, similar to Boone, she will only remain the Courier’s companion if they maintain good reputation with the NCR, and as an active-duty ranger, her intolerance for anti-NCR actions is even more strict.

Ending Slides

If "Giving Up the Ghost” is started, but never completed:

NCR Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, at least she was the first to see the bearer of good news come up the road. In the moment, at least, it was worth everything to be there.

Legion, House, or Independent Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, she was the first to see the NCR’s retreat, as civilians and troopers alike began fleeing through the Long 15. She was right: this whole time, all she could do was watch.

Ghost is dead. Ghost, bitterly, died as she lived...(deep sigh) at the Mojave fucking Outpost.

If “Giving Up the Ghost” is completed:

NCR Victory: When legionnaires by the score descended upon Hoover Dam, Ghost was proud to have been one of the many rangers in the battle that kicked their shit in back across the Colorado. She celebrated with the rest of them, even a smile creeping onto her face every now and then. Still, Ghost returned to business before long, as part of a squad out East tracking down the straggling remnants of Caesar’s retreating Legion.

Legion Victory: Ghost was among the many rangers who fought at Hoover Dam, but when the army of legionnaires led by the Courier, to whom she owed her very presence there, proved unstoppable, she was ultimately among its many casualties. Their advance was too sudden, too overwhelming, for a clean evacuation, and a grisly duel with a centurion trapped her near the front. Still, the Legion never took Ghost alive. She made sure of it.

House or Independent Victory: The arrival of the Securitrons at Hoover Dam was a surprise to every NCR trooper stationed there, including Ghost. Their sudden turn against the NCR, and their allegiance to the Courier, even more so. The triumph of vanquishing the Legion was short-lived, then, as Ghost joined the forced retreat, one pale face in a sea of many.

Ghost is dead: Despite her name, there was no supernatural flourish when Ghost died. She simply died like a ranger, fighting to the end. That’s all that mattered.

(Bonus) Cass’s Ending Slide if the Courier frames her for the murder of Jackson:

Rose of Sharon Cassidy spent all of her time at the Mojave Outpost in a drunken stupor, which is why when Major Knight oversaw her arrest for the murder of Ranger Jackson, it took so long to get exonerated. By the time the alibi was pieced together and the evidence was admitted as circumstantial, the battle of Hoover Dam shifted NCR’s attention elsewhere, and the crime was never solved. For a few months in the clink, though, at least Cass got what she wanted: home, and finally away from the outpost.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #ranger ghost #art #fallout elevated extras #elevated extras #from me

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tmntgirlie · 4 years ago

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TMNT Universe!Reader x Mikey

House Party

“The rules for House Party are pretty simple!” you announced rather confidently. “Here’s how it works. We choose one person to be the party’s ‘host’. They leave the room while we choose three or four other people to be ‘guests’. The guests will pick a character or thing to act like and the host has to guess who each guest is acting as.”

“So, it’s like a more complicated version of charades?” Michelangelo said slowly, rubbing the back of his head.

You smiled. “Kind of. The guests and the party host can talk to each other. The host can be as involved or as not involved as they want to. The game is over when the host correctly guesses each party guests’ identity.”

“There are eight of us,” Leonardo said. “So with one host and four guests, we will have three observers.”

‘I mean, at least he does quick math,’ you thought to yourself. “Who wants to be the party host?”

It was a few seconds before anyone spoke up. To your surprise, it was April who volunteered to host.

“Alright, so I just need you to leave the room until we call you back in, okay?”

It was still so weird to you to be here with them. Just kind of hanging out, partying, going shot for shot- did you mention Casey didn’t hold back on the alcohol? He brought enough to fill a small bar.

Let’s just say you weren’t cold. What you liked to call the ‘alcohol blanket’ was in full effect.

After taking another sip of your vodka kool-aid, you clapped your hands together. “Right. Four people need to volunteer to be the party guests.”

“I will,” Casey said quickly, holding up his half-empty beer bottle. “This sounds fun.”

“I want to be a party guest!” Michelangelo said right after him with a grin that just lit up the room.

You looked between Raphael and Vern with a smirk. You were internally counting on one of them to volunteer as well, just for the hell of it. Vern just kind of sat there and existed for the majority of the party. Participate, man.

After an overly dramatic sigh, Raph finally nodded. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

That left Vernon (Falcon guy, as you liked to call him), Leo, and Donnie.

“I’ll be the fourth,” Donatello said with a small smile. “This should be fun.”

After about ten minutes of arguing, ‘playful banter’, you had helped the four party goers figure out their personas. It was time to bring April in.

When you went out to grab her, you gave her the rundown of how it started. The host would enter and act like they were doing house-ly duties when there would be a ‘knock’ at the door. It was an imaginary door, of course.

You expected the ding-dongs to be as obnoxious as possible.

“Ringy-dingie! I’m ringing the doorbell!”

You were so thankful that you had already swallowed your drink. Mikey was going full-force.

“Answer the door, you fool!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” April looked overwhelmed already.

Next to you, Leo and Vern were trying to contain themselves. It was only just beginning.

Everybody was ‘in’. April continuously tried to start conversations with each of her four party guests, but was often interrupted by another guest. She looked about ready to pull her hair out.

“Does anybody want a drink? A snack?” April called out, throwing her hands to her sides with a huff.

This was going both better and worse than you had planned.

“I would love a beverage, darling!” Mikey drawled, giving April a wink. The accent was a mix of German and Japanese, and you grinned knowing exactly who he was impersonating.

After all, it had been decided ahead of time. All April had to do was figure it out.’

“Oh, are you an immigrant to this country?” April asked, pouring him an imaginary drink.

“No, darling, I am a business woman.”

“A business woman? What kind of business?”

“Oh, it is a secret, darling.”

Leonardo nudged your side. “Does it usually take this long?”

“For people who haven’t played before, it can take this long,” you mumbled back. “But it is funny to watch.”

The entire idea of this game came from an old high school memory. When you were done with any of your various arts classes (choir, band, art, those types), the entire class would play this game together. It usually happened on a Friday afternoon and was definitely the highlight of your week.

Ah, back when life was simple. But you wouldn’t trade it for anything now.

Raphael was loudly chatting to Donnie, you didn’t know if it was a nonsense conversation or a real one but there was a definite mention of-

“Capes! No capes!” Michelangelo exclaimed

“Edna Mode!” April said quickly, pointing to Mikey.

Mikey grinned, and you swore he winked at you as he gave a dramatic bow before taking his place at the sidelines next to you, Leonardo, and Vernon.

Ah, Vern. Everybody forgets about him. For good reason.

“How did I do, sweetcheeks?” He somehow squeezed himself between his eldest brother and you.

“You did good!” You were not blushing, you were definitely not blushing. Did he just call you sweetcheeks?

He’s just a flirt, you reminded yourself. It’s nothing personal.

“It’s kind of an adrenaline rush up there,” he continued. “I’ve never really performed for anybody like that before.”

“Makes sense, with how you guys have lived all your lives,” you said, taking another sip of your drink.

It was just getting warmer and warmer in those sewers. Maybe it was just you.

It didn’t take much longer for April to figure out Raph was a cowboy from the Wild West, Donatello was playing himself (he thought it would be funny), and Casey…To be honest, you couldn’t remember what Casey decided to be.

You were already going shot for shot with Mikey and Leonardo by that point, the party game all but forgotten.

You honestly couldn’t remember much of the party after that. You knew there had been pizza and chips and dip, but that was from before the games started. You were almost certain video games played some sort of part in it.

No, all you knew is that the next time you woke up, you could feel something hard, maybe a little rough, and bumpy laying next to you. The small night light across the room barely illuminated anything, but you could clearly see an orange band laying next to the bed.

Shit.

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #universe reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2k14 #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt mikey #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #universe reader x tmnt #mikey x reader #mikey x universe reader

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saintheartwing · 3 years ago

Text

Breaking Dawn, Pt. 2: Rage of the Forgotten Ones

Author's Note:

Regrettably, this time, I'm not accepting OCs for the story. Though you may spy a cameo here and there for certain...persons. ;)

Anyhow, on with the tale! And feel free to tell me what you like and dislike about it. :D

BREAKING DAWN, PART TWO RAGE OF THE FORGOTTEN ONES

If you're reading this, then again...thanks. I'm glad somebody bothered to check out my blog. I'm surprised you're checking it now, though. Shouldn't you be more concerned with the fact that hundreds of planet Earths are floating around in the sky above, defying all physics? Even the average ignorant idiot can tell: something is seriously wrong.

And I know you want to know how this happened. Maybe you heard about me. Remembered I was the "crazy kid" for a long time, that I had all of these "insane" theories about aliens and the supernatural, and now that this is happening, well, you turn to me for answers. I've got answers, alright...I've got answers.

It all ties back...to him. To an alien named Zim.

His species is called the Irken race. They're like reptile-esque bugs. Their bodies are organic shells, their REAL selves are attached to their backs in robotic backpacks called "PAKS'. They're generally proud, vain, narcissistic, selfish, dangerous, in a word...evil. I knew from the moment Zim entered my classroom in his pathetic disguise that fooled everyone but me that he was bad news, I swore to expose him.

But something happened over the years. Zim and I began to...

Well...

...I can't call it friendship. I really can't. It's like...we were rivals. And we always wanted to stay that way. To outdo each other. It was a "same time next week" kind of deal we had: he'd try to make some world-enslaving or world-destroying plot...I'd stop him. It was a great game we played. And I think we began to develop...well...a kind of respect...a kind of trust. We kinda mellowed, in a sense. Heck, we even applied to the same colleges. I guess that my life fell into a rhythm I intended to ride for the rest of my life.

...but before all that happened, there was...a period that I think back on with shame. It was kind of like the turning point. When we looked back on what we did, something changed in us. I think we kinda were forced to change.

See...I wasn't the only one who knew Zim was an alien. My sister knew, but she didn't really care much. Zim had another Irken living at his home, named Skoodge, but Skoodge wasn't really too much of a threat. He wasn't actually too bad, as far as Irkens went. But I did tell my classmate Gretchen about Zim, and I think she wanted to believe me.

And then there was Nick.

Nice kid from down south. Slightly annoying accent. Little bit dumb. Okay, maybe more than a little bit.

But friendly. Helpful. And Zim had experimented on him before. Made him REAAAALLY happy with this strange device he stuck in his head. Twice. I asked him for help, knowing he knew the truth.

I TRIED to train him. I really did. I tried to help him get smart and savvy the way I was. We planned...we calculated...a few missions went by, we did well.

He wasn't my friend, but...but he was a good comrade. Yes...a comrade. And that day, on March 23rd, six years ago...Zim did the worst thing he'd ever done.

And he did it to Nick.

...I own that. Because he was my soldier. My comrade.

...my fault.

I don't know if he...remembers it all. I kept wondering "Was he afraid? Was he begging for me to save him in his head? Was he crying all the while as Zim..."

Now I know how he felt. I'm feeling that way too. Because someone showed up at our front door. They forced a very dangerous, very powerful ring on me. A ring that can turn the imagination into reality. Chosen for me because I can overcome great fear.

And yet...

All I want to do now...

Is SCREAM.

At first...it was a spiritual experience. Exhilarating. Almost transcendental. He felt invincible. He felt...like he could face anything. Anyone. Dib Membrane wasn't afraid of anything or anyone, and he knew, in that first few moments he KNEW he could have taken on the entire world and WON. For those first few moments...the ring upon his finger showed him a world just in front of his fingertips, a world of potential.

And then...then it was not HIS will that controlled the power. It felt like he was being tugged around by slimy strings, his flesh was not his own...he was lost in his own spirit...and he knew what was at fault.

"Get this thing OFF me!" Dib yelled out, yanking on the white ring on his finger as best he could, gasping as the Irken with the golden eyes looked on in pitiless amusement. Two sets of antennae, one teal, one black slightly raised in amusement with gloved hands and a blue vest across his chest, with dark blue pants and boots of black...black to match the gloves...black to match his heart. "GET IT OFF!"

"It's no use." The Irken with the golden eyes said, waving his hand in the air. "I was the first one to touch the Exemplar Ring you wear on your hand. It might be powered by your Will, it might think you're using it, but really...it's MY will that matters now. It might as well be on my hand. And you're going to do everything I tell you to do. You won't have a choice." The Irken said.

Dib's sister bellowed angrily, punching the ground below and seething, frothing at the mouth. Unlike Dib, who was dressed in a fine outfit of black and green, she was all red and black, with a form that looked vaguely machine-like in its design, a fury dripping off her facial features as the Irken snapped his fingers and she panted slightly, slowly calming down.

"You...fix us...NOW." Dib snarled angrily, summoning up all his willpower, leveling the ring on his finger squarely at the Irken. "You FREAK."

"The NAME...is Zerinim Two Jookiba." The Irken with two sets of antenneas said, putting one gloved hand on his chest before growling fervently, a burning red fiery blaze of energy forming in his hands, sizzling like he was holding a miniature sun in his palms. "But don't call me "Two" like my closest loved ones do. Call me...MASTER."

He immediately launched the wave of energy squarely at Dib and Gaz, knocking them to the ground, Gaz taking a blow to the head, unconsciousness settling in as Dib felt the thing's grip on him relaxing, and now the many sledgehammers he kept imagining should be beating into this thing actually manifested in a bright green glow, energy constructs that struck at Two over and over as Dib kept the manifestation up, intent on one thing and one thing alone...

MAKING...HIM...PAY.

"I'm gonna make you sorry you ever came to my planet!" Dib yelled out, stepping closer and closer to Two as the Irken held his gloved hands forth, a sonic blast of red construct energy knocking Dib back as Two snapped his fingers, a surge of power rising from his form as a bow popped into his gloved hands. Dib jumped back up, quickly firing off blasts of energy from his ring like a cowboy desperately firing his pistols at an oncoming posse, but Two calmly stood still, the blasts missing him as he notched an arrow of burning red.

It launched through the air, impaling Dib through his left side and he screeched in pain, falling to the ground as his grip on his body faded, and he swam in and out of consciousness, struggling to stay awake, Two chuckling coldly as he approached the human and his sister.

"Ahhhhh, I NEEDED that. I'm in a such good mood right now...now you go home and power down and get some rest. Dream peacefully...it'll be the last happy sleep you ever have, I'm afraid." The Irken said, kneeling by Dib and lifting his head with one claw. It wasn't a mocking tone...it just said it. A statement of fact. Nothing personal. "You've got a busy day tomorrow, after all." He added with a slight smile, clapping his hands as Dib and Gaz found themselves returning to their normal clothes, getting back up and returning inside the house of their own accord, the will of their master, the being named Two, echoing in their minds...

Mercifully, Dib could feel his wounds healing. But this was cold comfort. All Dib could think about...was what this thing was going to do the world he loved.

...

...as Dib rested in his bed, snuggling up beneath the covers, shivering slightly, he grit his teeth and grounded them together. He was mad. He was furious. He couldn't even fall asleep without feeling like that...that thingwith the double set of antennas was watching him. It had loosed it's control over them...just barely. It was allowing them to rest, but that was cold comfort considering Dib knew the thing would be up to no good.

What would it do to his world? What would it make himdo to his world? What would it make him do to the people he loved?

Simply trying to imagine talking to his father or anybody else about what had happened was giving him a headache...no doubt another part of that being, "Two", inflicting his will on him. What would happen if he actually tried to tell his father what had occurred, get him to simply analyze the ring that he was unable to take off? Would it be some "Battle Royale" kind of deal? Would a collar manifest around his neck and take his head off?

Gaz. What was Gaz thinking, Dib wondered as his eyelids slowly beginning to drop, genuine sleep mercifully setting in. Was she scared? Was she indignant about being used? Or was she just...angry?

Well, as it turned out, Gaz was none of those things. She had long since fallen deep asleep to dream of a world that shaped and shifted by her will, brought to life by a giant red pen, floating upon a rubber piggy and laughed giddily at the new world she was making. She liked seeing things in red...yes, yes, she wanted to paint everything in red...

She knew this power would help her do it. She was aware it was bringing out her most violent desires and attitudes. But she knew she could channel it. She just had to wait for her chance.

She could take control of this. She could prove stronger than the thing on her finger.

"That idiot thinks he has me. But I've beaten worse things before." Her dream-self said as she raised a chainsaw high, cutting through a swath of imaginary Twos. "AND YOU'LL FALL, JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM!"

...

..."Oh great. Two is here. Help me put my clothes back on."

"Why did you ask me to bring HER along? I could understand Lilo, but…"

"I want her to understand what we're…willing to do to break her. Lilo, do you know HOW the Minor Arcana was formed? How the…application process is undertaken?"

"..."

"Well, in exchange for very, VERY large amounts of power and the ability to remain eternally young…you've got to kill family. Close family. One member, to be precise."

"Samael approached me and told me that if I wanted into the Minor Arcana…if I wanted the ability to be immune to control and to control reality, I'd have to kill a family member."

"No, please tell me you didn't…didn't kill them…Kila, Zim, you…you didn't?"

"No, of course I couldn't, I…I love my parents. I…I chose Green, my sister from the past."

"If Kila and Zim ARE your parents, the ones I know so well, then they would have been horrified at the idea of you working for the person who made them suffer so much! They wouldn't have raised you to be so cruel!"

"They didn't raise me to be cruel, but we never could stay in one place long…do you know how some kids move around city after city, state after state, never really making friends, or worse, constantly leaving the friends they DO have? For me…it was TEN TIMES WORSE. I had to move from world to world and whenever we got REMOTELY settled into the hotel or other temporarily dwelling, we had to leave! Working for Samael meant he wouldn't hunt my parents anymore and…It's not like I know Green. She's my sister and I understand mentally that the whole thing is…sad."

"..."

"I OUGHT to know her. I should have spent my childhood with my big sister being there, we should have blown stuff up in the backyard together or played gorka-ball or "Toss the GIR"…we should have been siblings but…but we weren't. Aren't. It IS sad, but…I just don't really know her, and so I don't have many qualms about killing her, though MIYU had NO qualms in killing MALIK! And to get to her mother, she killed her dad too!"

"Azazel has yet to kill Nick, his dear, beloved Grandfather. So perhaps he'll kill his originator instead, he was so close to Nick, In his reality, his "Pee-Paw" was so PROUD of him…he even gave him his-"

"..."

"As for Frequency, lobotomizing Sari, whom he cared for greatly, was his act. Samael was happy to allow him to do the act, it allowed Miyu to replace Sari, who had refused to kill her parents and had taken Samael's gift of immortality. Such a pity…she would have gained Miyu's incomparable battle skills but instead she lost most of her brain."

"And now let us come to the point. You are not going to be rescued. You are going to be tortured here by us, one at a time, and when TWO finishes with you, I…will begin."

"Question: Who shall start?"

"I'll be the first...my power will be good for torturing you-"

With that, Dib awoke from the strange dream. It had felt real. FAR too real. And that person...Two. It had definitely been him. What was going on? Were Two's memories of the past somehow crisscrossing with his slave's head? Possible, he supposed. The Irken could control him from his head, but that meant his mind was open, at least when asleep, to Dib's own...

How strange...

"How odd..." Dib mumbled as he scratched his head, sweeping his legs out of his bed and onto the floor as he made his way to his bureau to get his usual attire out. Dark jacket? Check. Blue t-shirt with a "Meh" face on it? Check. Dark pants? Also check. Glasses...shoes...belt for said pants...check, check, check-

"...is the ring still on my finger?" Dib mumbled, looking down at his hand.

Check.

"...crap." He muttered. "You JERK." He growled, turning his head to look out the window at a cheerily grinning Two, who pushed the window open, letting in the sunshine to the dark blue walls of Dib's cluttered-up bedroom.

"Nice place, it really is...except for the smell." Two admitted as he looked around the bedroom. Indeed, over the years Dib had gotten slightly more advanced equipment from his father for birthday presents...yes, Birthday. Dib's father refused to celebrate Christmas due to his undying hatred of Santa Claus, so he always wasted that day searching for signs of Santa. And beating up Santa's Helpers in the street.

Yeah, it was weird.

A sophisticated computer system on a desk with what appeared to be three dozen drawers, many of them stuffed full of papers on Bigfeet, ghosts and aliens...a pile of laundry in the corner, all dark clothes, blue t-shirts...and several dozen paranormal posters littered the walls, including one of a flying saucer. And not just ANY flying saucer. "Is that from the X-Files series?" Two found himself asking, an intrigued expression coming to his features.

"Yes, the original one. I got it off of Ebay. Cost me two month's allowance too." Dib added, not taking his eyes off the alien scumbag. He wanted to jump through the air and do a karate kick to his head, hey, years of fighting with Zim meant he'd picked up a couple of tricks. But no, no, it was like he was rooted to the spot, and he knew EXACTLY why.

He tried to yank the ring off anew...hopeless. Two chuckled slightly as he snapped his fingers. "I used to watch the show when I was younger. Ahhhh, memories. Moving from dimension to dimension it's still nice to see that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Wait until I tell you about the second movie."

"Second movie?" Dib remarked, blinking stupidly.

"Oh, right, you don't know. Guess this world will never see it once I'm...well..." He chuckled coldly. "Once WE'RE finished. Go on, my little puppet. Eat breakfast. Say goodbye to your father with your sister. Then we begin, and I think I'll start by doing you a favor, and doing what all children dream of doing at one point or another...burning down your school."

"Why would you want to do that?" Dib growled angrily, fingers clenching almost like claws, eyes alit with fury. "What could you POSSIBLY gain from-"

"Do I look like a Bond Villain, my boy? I'm not TELLING you." The Irken chuckled. "But I'm in a good mood, so being the nice person I am, here's the deal. You get until Lunch Period's over. Then I'll take full control...and have you and your sister burn down the school and everyone and everything in it."

The Irken was suddenly up in Dib's face, smiling coldly, one hand gripping his chin, the other tapping Dib's ring. "You have until then to convince the others to get out, and don't bother trying to use your ring to convince them, I'll put it under a lock that won't open until it is finally time to BURN, baby, BURN." The Irken laughed. "Hey, you've been failing to get your classmates to listen for years. Maybe today's the day they'll finally listen!"

"You don't have to do this." Dib said, trying another tack, remembering the dream. Normally he wouldn't EVER negotiate with an alien, not even try, but...this was different. "You don't need to hurt anyone."

"But I do." Two whispered, raising his gloved claws up and clenching them. "...I DO."

Letting off cold-hearted laughter, the Irken jumped back out of the window, strolling off. Dib cursed under his breath. This was one of the few times an alien was out in the open! NO disguise! Why, WHY was nobody outside? Or LOOKING outside? What had their attention? Were they all still ASLEEP?

"So then he shot her, it was weird." The newest arrival on the "Okrah" show said to the titular host, Gaz munching on some cereal as the tall and weirdly surreal Prof. Membrane adjusted the goggles over his eyes, looking at the screen.

"This PULP is what the people are interested in?" He inquired.

"Yeeeeep." Gaz said nonchalantly through a mouthful of "Choco Frosted Sugar Bombs".

"And it's on every morning from 8 to 9? Without fail?"

"Yeeeeeeeeep."

"...what next, dancing panda bears?" Prof. Membrane mused sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he poured himself some coffee. He was getting better at this, he TRIED to be there during the day for breakfast if nothing else. And to think, it only took him a little over 10 years to actually start being somewhat of a good father figure.

"Mornin', Dad." Dib said, entering the kitchen and going to the fridge before shrinking away. Every time he tried to open the fridge, weird things happened. Last time he was SURE he'd heard a sneeze, and the mayonnaise had started yelling "The ketchup did it! The ketchup!" And ANOTHER time his father had left an experiment in there. Something had been living in the fridge.

"...is...the thing still in there?" Dib asked Prof. Membrane, inching away from the fridge and reaching for the knife drawer by the sink, pulling out a large carving knife as Gaz watched with interest.

"No, I'm fairly certain I moved him to the freezer." Prof. Membrane said, shaking his head back and forth. Smiling in relief, Dib wiped his brow and opened up the fridge...and was then forced to hack back several dozen tentacles before slamming the fridge shut. "Or maybe I forgot. Who keeps track?" Prof. Membrane added a moment later, putting a gloved finger to where his lip might have been...it was hard to tell, the white labcoat that he wore had a loooong collar that reached up high. You couldn't even see his nose!

"I'll just make some toast."

"SUPER-Toast?" Prof. Membrane asked expectantly.

"...er, I was thinking cinna-" Dib began to say, before he saw his father's slowly drooping expression. "SUPER-Cinnamon Toast." He quickly changed his mind, nodding enthusiastically.

"EXCELLENT choice, my son!" Prof. Membrane agreed, clapping Dib on the shoulder and moving to the cupboard to get the cinnamon sugar for his boy. "I can only spare 110 more seconds but I'd be HAPPY to get your cinnamon toast started!"

"...thanks, Dad." Dib said quietly. "I...I really appreciate it. And...appreciate you." He murmured.

"What will that thing make me do to the ones I love?"He thought sadly to himself, sitting in the chair next to Gaz as she quietly looked over at him, a faint flicker of genuine regret passing over her face for an instant.

...

...the Beautiful Angel clutched his mother's paw, looking down at her closed eyes. She looked so...worn and tired. So sad...so lost...so forgotten. She was a sad little doll that had been tossed into a closet to be forgotten about. She lay there in the ornately-draped bed inside of the crystalline palace that hovered high above the clouds, hidden from all sight not by ignorance on behalf of humanity, but by carefully-constructed machinations, creations of Zerinim Two, and of the robot that calmly watched, her face solemn before she turned her red-helmed head away from the sight of her beloved kneeling by his dying mother.

"C'mon...just a few more days, momma." He whispered, his golden/amber eyes gazing down upon his beloved mother. "...just a few more days and maybe we can end all of this...get our world back...and bring all of us back to normal."

"Is she...any better? Any worse?"

The Angel looked up. Zerinim Two's face was normally a window...behind his eyes you could tell he was barely suppressing a furious rage within. Now that window was cracked, but not showing rage...but deep, deep concern and sadness...

Personal loss...one of the greatest causes of rage in the world.

"No. And...and I've been talking with her and...she kept asking about the plan." The Angel went on, sighing as he stood up, brushing his thick slightly-light-brown locks of hair back. "You know that this base Earth is very...unstable. It's got the seeds of potential for all the other stories, but if this plan works, I'm worried what'll happen to the other-"

"Who GIVES a rat's ass?" Two snapped angrily, cutting his hand in the air to shut him up. "Azzy, these people are awful. AW-FUL. I might have been petty and selfish but when it came down to it, I ALWAYS put doing what was right for the ones I loved and for the world I loved at the forefront! Do you think ANY of the so-called "cornerstones" of this Base Earth would?"

"...I don't know." The Beautiful Angel admitted softly, honestly. "...I'd like to believe that some of them would."

"I'm sorry that "some of them" isn't enough." Two spoke quietly, folding his arms. "You know...I saw into Dib's mind when I controlled him. He has a family. He has a father. He has a sister. And his life's been slowly getting better for the past five years. Zim getting more considerate, Gaz becoming more tolerant, his father's actually eating BREAKFAST with them!"

That made the woman in the bed chuckle slightly. "Brekkie? N-no kiddin'? Ame kef, never thought he'd actually..." Her chuckling dissolved into pained coughs as she held her paw over her mouth and Two gently patted her forehead. "I'm...sorry I'm so friggin' useless now."

"It'll be alright, maneem." Two whimpered, kneeling by his mother and kissing her paw as a blue-furred being entered, Two rubbing his eyes as he left the room. The blue-furred being took off his cap, letting his hair fall down as he nervously chewed his lip, gazing at his aunt.

"...are we really gonna go through with this? I want the world back but..." He sighed. "...what he's making Dib do isn't...it isn't right."

"I want you to have this." The Beautiful Angel said, giving the blue-furred bounty hunter a pad of paper he had in a pack slung around his shoulder. "It's notes that mother took. I've read it five dozen times..." He trailed off, taking his mother's paw again.

The blue-furred being chewed his lip again, walking out of the room as he went to stand on a balcony, reading the journal as the robot stepped out on the balcony to join him.

"I shall be meeting with MY personal inductees today." She said in her emotionless tone, holding up the rings she would be using. "They shall join my Corps and I will then bring the two up here so that they may understand why we do what we do. I think he would go along with it anyway...a chance to destroy this world? Have "fun"? How could he say "no"?"

"Will you bother to tell him that once enough of this world's been destroyed by the Cornerstones, he'll get folded into the historical fabric?" The bounty hunter wanted to know.

"That's on a "need-to-know" basis." The robot said, a flicker of amusement passing over her metallic features as she sauntered back into the crystalline palace, leaving the bounty hunter alone on the balcony as he reached into his pocket, pulling out two small rings of his own. One was shining slightly, a chosen partner found, but the other...it's light was dull.

"...why isn't it lit up? What's it missing? WHO is it missing? I might have been the first to get ahold of these, but...can't do this alone..." He murmured, putting them back in his pocket, his paw going over the journal to his side, over an entry stained by teardrops.

...

...Dib nervously gripped his pants pockets as he looked out the window of the bus, sitting in the back with Gaz as she looked over at him. "Any ideas?" She asked sarcastically.

"...I thought about offering twenty bucks to everyone to leave school right after lunch...but my allowance isn't THAT high." Dib admitted, pulling out his wallet and opening it, a tiny moth fluttering out as Gaz rolled her eyes.

"And just TELLING them the truth won't help either, will it?" She asked. "They'd never believe you. Well, they might if you tried to use that thing in front of them, but-"

"It's not working." Dib mumbled, shaking his fist angrily, the ring uselessly dull. "I'm trying and trying...but he meant it...he shut it off. And after lunch, it turns on...and I turn into a living weapon. He'll drive me like I'm a BATTLEBOT."

Gaz looked around the bus, eyes narrowing darkly. "...Dib...what's wrong with this picture?" She asked quietly, dangerously.

Dib looked up from his lap, glancing around.

"Notice anything...missing?"

Suddenly it hit him. Zim. Skoodge. Gretchen. Nick. All four of them were gone. How strange...how very, very strange...

The bus came to a stop as everyone headed into the school, their new guidance counselor greeting the children at the door. He saw Dib's clearly sullen expression and his gentle green eyes softened. A hand reached out, placed squarely on Dib's right shoulder. "Dib, is something the matter?" Mr. Thildari inquired, one eyebrow raised high over a head with perfectly-combed grey hair.

"...nothing you could help with, sir." Dib told him as Gaz headed inside. "You've been more help than the last guidance counselor I had, but...you can't help me with this."

"Aww, why not try me?" Mr. Thildari asked, moving Dib inside and sitting him down at a bench by a water fountain. "First period bell doesn't ring for a whole seven..." He checked his watch. "...six whole minutes!"

"...I need to get everyone out of the school before lunch. And I mean EVERYONE. Even that creepy janitor." Dib told the guidance counselor, leaning back in the chair, Two's smirk lingering in his mind. "Or else something terrible is going to happen."

"Dib, did a friend of yours say they're going to blow up the school?" The guidance counselor wanted to know, his darkened skin paling slightly.

Dib's eyes went wide.

There it was...

...hope. Why hadn't he seen it before? It was such a simple solution.

"Yes, yes." Dib said fervently. "...except he's not really a friend, he...he said he was going to blow the whole school sky-high after lunch period, Mr. Thildari." Dib informed the guidance counselor, shaking him by his shoulders, back and forth, back and forth.

The guidance counselor looked deep into Dib's eyes, mouth becoming a taut line as if "reading" him. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully before closing his green eyes and letting out a soft, long sigh. "I believe you." He told Dib. "I'll inform the principal and vice principal about this, and I'll have everyone escorted out of the building until the police can search the grounds."

Dib inwardly cheered for joy as Mr. Thildari stood up and headed for the staff wing, punching the air as he headed off to class. He won. He'd WON.

Or at least...so he thought.

"I should have KNOWN you'd cheat." Two muttered furiously, sitting in a tree outside of school, his fists clenching tightly as red energy swirled off his body like sparks off a fire as his own ring swirled around him like a tiny fly, buzzing, buzzing.

"Calling in help like that, you great big cheater...well, you're about to find out that I'm just as petty and immature as you, Dib Membrane..." The Irken chuckled darkly. "I suppose the saying's true. If you want something done right..."

He hopped down from the tree, making his way towards the school as red energy seeped off his body, his footprints leaving behind burning indents within the ground as he chuckled coldly.

"You have to do it yourself."

#invader zim #zim #superhero #superheroes #Dib #Gaz #Two #Zerinim #action #adventure #fanfic #fanfiction

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duskdragonxiii · 3 years ago

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tell us your toy story 4 thoughts dusky

Ok you made this can of worms and now you have to die in it

Toy story 4 was the worst entry in the series by far, which i guess wasn't too difficult bc the first 3 films had already been great- and that is very very rare that all films in a 3 part series are good and not unnecessary. Its a shame TS4 came along and broke the trend. They should have ended it with 3 where it felt it ended, that was the natural end to the story

It is completely contradictory to woody's previous (and complete) character arc. Woody in this film completely reverts back to his previous state of being a shithead who's jealous of other people getting attention. The previous 3 films were about woody getting past his fear of abandonment and accepting that things change and life goes on. IMMEDIATELY the film opens on woody hating the fact Bonnie gave the Sherrifs badge to another toy and left him in the cupboard. Like ok, sure, maybe woody would still be a little jealous of not being played with, but not the way he behaves about it. if they wanted to address these themes again they would have been so much better making Jessie the focus of the movie since her issues with abandonment are so much worse and so much fresher.

Buzz Lightyear, though he had been gradually dumbed down and was never very intelligent- suddenly has no brains whatsoever. He's not much more than a joke now. Haha Buzz doesn't know what thoughts are isn't that funny. Yea he was a joke in TS3 too im not going to pretend he wasn't, but he and woody's friendship was still a key element in there. In TS4 he does..... Nothing.

Don't even get me started on Bo. Bo hasn't been present since TS2 and even in TS1 her role was absolute minimal. Her purpose really served as nothing but a jealousy pivot plot device in the development of Woody and Buzz' friendship. In TS4 they changed her entirely. She's not the same character anymore. We get it, you wanted a badass heroine in there for the Rep but [gestures to Jessie again] you really missed this. This movie could have had SO MUCH POTENTIAL if you had just REMEMBERED JESSIE IS THERE. We did not need Bo Peep and her weird "lets give woody a girlfriend" plot. Something something she helped woody find the next part of his life- except for the fact the ENTIRITY of this story is unnecessary.

The very focus of this whole saga is how best friends should stick together no-matter what. You've got a friend in me. Too bad that's out the window. Woody is fine leaving the gang to go and wander with Bo- contradicting the entire message of the previous films.

I get what they were trying to go for with forky, but given the context of the film compared to its predecessors its just totally lost. It's really overshadowed by what the hell else is going on- to the point i barely rmember what that plot was about. What was the point of Forky. It was a good premise and opened up all the mysteries of what qualifies as a toy and like how they're made and such and that even the simple things are important to a child but. He doesn't seem to serve as much more than a plot device either- because how the fuck are they gonna make a 4th movie in a finished franchise. In the end thats what forky feels like.

They bigged TS4 up for having very heavy themes never before addressed in an animated film for children and stuff in it and for being heartbreaking- but it did not meet those expectations in the slightest. I bawled my eyes out at TS3. My DAD cried at TS3. But TS4 didn't deliver at all. Those heavy themes they talked about? With the introduction of forky I expected it to be something about identity or something. That potential was there. But.... no it was organ donation. I'm not saying that's not a big thing, but overall it had so fucking little impact at all. They are toys. And in the end it would have no impact on woody anyway, because Bonnie would never find out, because HE FUCKING LEAVES THE GROUP. If you wanted to address organ donation SURELY you should have had him give up a part of himself and STILL be welcomed back lovingly among his friends who would support his decision. Surely Bonnie would be sad that her toy suddenly stopped working, but she would love him anyway. But she never knows because Woody becomes "lost". Bonnie is about 3-4 years old right? She absolutely has object permeance and when she discovered her cowboy is missing she will be so sad. She has other toys, but not that one. Do you people not remember TS3.

Tbh i do not even remember this movie that well. I saw it once in cinemas and was so incredibly disappointed I have never watched it again. So my points may be a little off bc ofc this is just my understanding of this film. But it annoys me so much to the point praise for it makes me want to hit people. They could have done so much better. It was an unneccssary sequel. they would have been better using similar story for a completely unrelated (preferably new) franchise instead of capitalising badly on characters who are already whole and loved. Animation is a hell industry under capitalism and TS4 ended up feeling more like a graphics showcase than a heart filled movie. I could probably go on but jesus christ i. sorry

#answer time #quacks

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sheerfreesia007 · 5 years ago

Text

Fallin’ All In You (Pt. 1)

Title: Fallin’ All In You

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 2,651

Author Notes: My very first published fic on here and I’m a little nervous! I feel like it could be better. I have plans for a part 2. Any feedback is welcome and encouraged! Thanks guys! @rzrcrst I know you were asking for fics for any of Pedro’s characters so here’s my contribution.

Whiskey manages to shoulder the front door to the abandoned cabin open and holds it wide for you to step through before him. You have your desert eagle hand gun raised as you quickly survey the room, sighing tiredly as you holster your gun slowly seeing that the coast was clear. You can feel Whiskey moving into the cabin closely behind you and shutting the door behind the two of you, you feel your cheeks start to heat slightly and you scold yourself as you move away swiftly. Now is not the time.

The cabin is one small room with an even smaller kitchenette to the right of the room, there’s two doors on the far back wall and no furniture at all in the room. It looks like no one has been here in years if the layer of dust and dirt on the floor was any indication. Out of the four windows on the cabin walls only one is completely intact and you shiver slightly as the cold air from outside blows into the room swirling around you.

The mission tonight had gone to shit once one of your targets had recognized Whiskey from a previous mission and the two of you had to fight your way out just to be able to save yourselves. Then the two of you had to go dark on the communications to Statesman as you made your way to safe house in the woods. You were both beaten up and bruised not to mention exhausted. Moving to one of the closed doors you opened it cautiously and saw a small bathroom; leaving that door open you moved to the other one and found a closet that held a few moth eaten blankets. You sighed softly knowing they wouldn’t provide enough warmth for the two of you tonight. You began taking out the blankets you found and turned to Whiskey holding them up grimacing.

“These will have to do until morning, it’s all that’s been left by the previous tenants.” You said displeased with your situation. What you wouldn’t give for the warmth of the car you and Whiskey had traveled in earlier this night to get to your target. You saw Whiskey nod at you as he began to remove his suit jacket. He hissed softly in pain and you felt your stomach clench at the sound. He had taken quite a few hard hits from one of the body guards at the restaurant and you knew he had fought off another body guard with a knife. Moving to the bathroom you checked under the small sink for a first aid kit and hummed favorably as you came up with one.

Walking back into the main room you looked over to Whiskey and stopped dead in your tracks, he had removed more than just suit jacket and stood there shirtless as he surveyed his wounds as much as he could by himself. Not the time for your little crush to resurface, you scolded yourself once again. Shaking your head subtly you gestured to the bathroom behind you.

“Come into the bathroom and I’ll patch ya up cowboy.” You said as unaffected as you could. Whiskey looked abruptly up at you and you felt yourself internally shrink away, his eyes looked so intensely at you as if he was looking right through you.

“It’s alright darlin’ I can do it myself.” He drawled softly at you as he moved closer to you holding his hands out for the first aid kit.

“You sure? You’ve got a nasty gash from that knife running along to your back.” You said unsure as his hands brushed against yours taking the kit from you.

“’M sure darlin’.” He slurred softly to you looking down at your figure. You felt his eyes roving all over your face and then falling further down to your body. Logically you knew he was checking your own wounds and bruises but you felt traitorous body heating up and your chest constricting with the unwavering attention from your fellow agent. “Are you good or do you need me to doctor you as well?” he asked softly. He had moved impossibly closer to you and you could feel his soft warm breath wafting over your face. You shook your head as you looked up into his eyes.

“I’m fine Whiskey just bruised up.” You said quietly. He nodded and moved around you to the small bathroom. Effectively being dismissed you turned back to the pile of blankets you had abandoned to get the first aid kit. Gathering them up in your arms you looked around for the best place to set up your post for the evening. As you surveyed and contemplated your best options you heard Whiskey in the background hissing and cursing softly. You moved to the one window that was still completely intact next to the front door and dropped all the blankets there in a scrawny nest, it would have to do.

“Fuck!” Whiskey shouted loudly in the quiet space and you jumped in your skin. You turned to see him framed in the doorway struggling to clean that knife wound you mentioned earlier, his muscled chest and back contorting in such a way that it looked painful to watch. Already moving towards the bathroom door Whiskey looked over at you grimacing. “I might need ya help darlin’.” He acquiesced grimacing softly.

“Told you.” You chided him softly with warm smile. He huffed out a breathy laugh and turned back to the sink. “I need you turn towards me Whiskey, gotta clean the whole wound.” You told him as your capable hands moved around him easily and grabbed the peroxide and gauze. After wetting the gauze with the peroxide you turned back to Whiskey and sucked in a sharp breath. He had turned towards you and your eyes were level with the bottom swoop of his collar bones and it felt too intimate all of a sudden.

“Ya alright darlin’?” he asked concerned with a furrow of his brow. You nodded your head quickly not bothering to look up at him as you pressed the gauze to side of his lower abdomen where the gash started. “Mother Mary!” he snapped in pain, “Warn a man next time will ya darlin’?” he barked at you and you shrugged your shoulders trying not to eye his muscled chest that was so close to your slightly heated face.

“You’ve had worse done to you before.” You said evenly as you moved the gauze slowly along the gash that traversed around to his back.

“True but I knew ‘bout it beforehand.” He grouched at you. You laughed softly at his attitude as you cleaned his wound. Your hands danced around his body again and grabbed more gauze and tape as you began to bandage his wound.

“Liar, you just don’t like being patched up.” You rebuked his claim. “All done.” You said softly as your hands flattened the last piece of tape to his side your fingers tickling his skin and he shifted away from them. “Sorry.” You said without looking up at him and you moved for the bathroom door.

“Not yer fault I’m ticklish. But you better not tell no one back at HQ.” he drawled at you softly with a smirk. You looked over your shoulder at him with a grin and a sparkle in your eye, your eyes didn’t catch the slight hitch of his chest as he took in your mischievous look.

“Can’t promise anything darlin’.” You teased with a confidence that you had no idea you possessed around him. Moving out of the bathroom you walked over to the pitiful nest of blankets and stood before them. Whiskey came up behind you and grabbed his discarded ruined shirt and slid back on easily and did up the buttons, you knew his actions without even looking at him because he was close enough to you for you to feel the breeze his actions created. Shivering slightly you removed your light cocktail shawl so that you could divest yourself of your gun holsters and place them to the side of the blankets on the floor. Pulling your shawl back over your arms and settling it close to your neck you rubbed your arms quickly trying to garner some warmth.

“I’ll take first watch.” Whiskey said softly and you turned to look over at him. He had donned his suit jacket again and was looking down at the blankets.

“Whiskey you’re hurt worse than I am, I think I should take first watch. You need your rest.” You said softly looking at him with a concerned look. He shook his head at you as he turned to you with a easy smile.

“I’ve still got too much adrenaline rushing through me darlin’ I couldn’t sleep even if I tried.” He said reassuringly as he moved to sit on the floor with his back to the front wall of the cabin. He pulled his pistols from their holsters and kept them on the floor next to his right hip and in between his legs for easy access in case they were needed. “C’mon try to get comfy next to me, it’s gonna be cold one and you’ll need all the rest you can get it’s gonna be a long trek tomorrow.” He declared kindly. Sighing softly you settled in next to him with your shoulder pressed against his. You could feel his warmth radiating off of his body and curling around yourself and soon you found yourself tilting your head back against the wall and falling into a deep sleep.

Jack shifted slightly in his spot on the floor, he could feel his ass starting to fall asleep but he didn’t want to move too much. Because you see an hour into his watch your head had fallen towards his shoulder and your forehead was now pressed snuggly against his outer shoulder. He knew you were exhausted the two of you had been through quite a lot this past night and as a fairly new field agent you weren’t used to long missions like this yet, so it had taken a lot out of you obviously.

Suddenly he heard a soft snore emit from you and held in his soft laughter as much as he could. Who knew the new shy field agent could be the cutest thing Jack had come across in quite a while. You were a mystery to him and ever since you introduced yourself to him he felt himself drawn to you. Over the months that Jack took to get to know you he found that there seemed to be two sides to you, the shy side and the confident side. The shy side appeared to overpower the confident side quite often but every once and awhile the confident side would come shining through. Usually it would only happen when you were comfortable in your surroundings, like that time you self-assuredly strode up to him in the lab and introduced yourself as the former lab tech turned field agent with a warm bright smile and firm handshake. Or just before when you were teasing him for having a secret of being ticklish.

Jack knew he was enamored with you, Tequila teased him quite a bit about it but he couldn’t help it. You were not only gorgeous to him but you were so intelligent and thought outside the box on most problems and he admired that in you. It meant that no matter what situation you were put in you’d be able to work it out in your favor as much as possible, not to mention when a gun was placed in your hands you took his breath away. Scoffing softly Jack rolled his eyes at himself, here he was in a dingy abandoned cabin with you pressed up to his side for warmth and he was mooning over you like love sick sap.

Just then he was jolted from his thoughts as you shifted and snuggled your cheek into his shoulder and mumbled something softly up to him. He turned his head to you and looked down at you. Your eyes were still closed and your breathing was still even, so you were still asleep and he relaxed softly back against you thinking it was nothing.

“Hmm, Jack.” You hummed softly as you moved even closer to him. He could feel your fingers moving under the blankets to wrap around his left arm and your body followed your fingers moving that much closer to him. He felt his cheeks flush warmly as he felt the front of your chest pressed impossibly close him and his arm notched between your breasts as your fingers dragged it towards you. “Jack.” You whispered up to him and his eyes darted back down to you again. He held his breath trying to wake you up as he tried to figure out what was going on. You had a soft smile creeping sleepily across your face and he felt his chest tightening at the beauty of it. “Jack.” You whispered again and Jack threw caution to the wind.

“Yeah darlin’?” he whispered back to you figuring you were talking in your sleep. Your smile seemed to grow wider at his response and his heart stuttered, this was the widest smile he’s ever seen on your face and he tried to memorize it with his eyes. He loved your smiles, though he thought he didn’t get to see them enough. You were a timid woman and seemed to keep to yourself even when he tried to garner your attention. His attempts usually flustered you and made you withdraw quickly from him, but every once in a while you’ll grace him with one of your sweet smiles and it hooks him and drags him deeper into his infatuation. Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts on your smiles when he missed your mumbled words. “What’d you say darlin’?” he asked softly.

“Love you Jack.” He heard you whisper softly as you nudged your head deeper into his shoulder and suddenly his world stopped and his breath left his lungs in a rush. It felt like he had been sucker punched in the gut and there was no more air in the universe for his poor lungs to function. His heart began pounding and he felt this warmth grow in his chest to encompass his whole body chasing out the cold. You loved him? He couldn’t fathom it. Sure the two of you got on well enough but you both seemed like two opposites of the same coin. You were timid and unassuming while he was outgoing and brash. The both of you were good at your job but handled it in two completely different ways; you liked to survey the whole picture while he liked to jump to action quickly while thinking on the run. Both were effective ways to go about it but both completely opposite sides of the spectrum. Could you really love him or was your subconscious just playing games with your dreams? What if you did? Would you want to explore something with him?

Jack felt his mind racing as thoughts came and went quickly into it. Then suddenly one question stuck out in his mind. Should he bring this up to you or not? Jack knew he was smitten with you and would love a chance to explore a relationship with you but would you feel the same way? Sitting there Jack felt a quiet sense of wonderment growing in his chest, a feeling of hope take over his whole body as he sat there in his thoughts as the sun slowly crept over the horizon. You snuggled up against him unaware of the plan he started to form in his mind on how to confess his feelings to you.

#my writing #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #kingsman the golden circle #fallin' all in you

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