In the first walkthrough trusting Jack I bought her black steampunk outfit ('cause he likes hats, u know ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) ).
In the second wal… morekthrough trusting Fiona I bought her white-orange-green outfit without hat ('cause Rhys said it made her head big).
And I prefer second one even if canon Fiona without our control bought a hat.
The caravan's empty, not counting himself, and there's a sort of peaceful silence that Rhys can appreciate. He can still hear his companion's voices muffled by the half closed door and by his slowly shutting down brain. He hasn't had a lot of rest recently -- the weather in Pandora has turned out worse than he'd expected and spending his nights tossing and turning doesn't really help when they have action packed days ahead of them. So, really, the light day breeze coming in through the crack of the window near him feels as nice as he could ask for and it almost lulls him to sleep.
Until the sound of heels buzzes in ears.
Fiona doesn't mean it. He doesn't even hear the sound of the door opening -- an indication she's being unusually careful (and it's kind of really endearing when he thinks about it) -- but her shoes aren't as kind as she's trying to be and they break his moment of peace when she tries to sit on the opposite side of where he's laying.
There's no point pretending he hasn't heard her and he doesn't want to make it awkward for either of them so he rubs his eyes and sits straight up, earning a little jump of surprise from her.
"Oh," she drops the magazine she'd reached for, "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"I wasn't really sleeping." His voice is cracking and he doesn't really blame her when she clearly doesn't believe him. "Really, I wasn't. I was trying to, though."
"Same thing then, sorry."
He can only grunt in acknowledgement, his whole body screaming for him to lay back down. Moving his arm to cover his forehead, shielding him from the sudden unwelcome light invading his eyes, he slightly cracked one eyelid open to look at her. She's reaching over to grab the magazine again and he can vaguely tell it's about races. He doesn't really care but she seems to have taken an interest in the matter ever since she was forced into one and it was genuinely cute.
There's a goofy smile on his face that he isn't even aware of until Fiona feels his eyes burning into her face and raises a questioning eyebrow at him.
"Take a picture," she teases amidst her confusion, "it'll last longer."
The stuttering out of his mouth sounds ridiculous even to him but he's really not sure how to stop it or what to say and the flush attacking his face isn't helping either. He knows how ridiculous he must look but her laughter carries no malice and it's not as embarrassing as it could have been.
"I was just..."
"Staring," she finishes for him, tearing her eyes from him back to her magazine again, "I know, I noticed."
It's the truth and as much as he wants to deny it he doesn't have an excuse so he stays quiet to try and save whatever bits of his dignity he can.
It doesn't work because he can't stop his mouth from talking.
"Sooo," he scratches the back of his head, "why are you not outside?"
She doesn't look up from what she's reading and it makes him more annoyed than he'd care to admit and half of it comes from the fact that he can't even identify why he's feeling this way all of a sudden. It's quickly becoming a problem he doesn't know how to fix.
"Because they're playing Truth or Dare and I wanted to get away from it."
"Scared of spilling secrets?" He wiggles his eyebrows at her suggestively and he knows she can see it from the corner of her eyes when they roll back at him.
"No," she adds with a stern tone, "scared of being told to do stupid things in a stupid game."
"I think," he's pushing his luck, "you're scared."
"Why don't you go play, then? Are you scared?"
The magazine has dropped on her lap by this point, Scooter's face visible in the top corner, and she isn't paying the least attention to it. It makes his stomach churn pleasantly and he's slowly becoming aware of what's happening.
"Touché."
It's really a problem.
Silence falls again when she offers him a mix of a snarl and a victorious smirk but no words. The usual tension is there but it feels different. He doesn't turn his gaze away, can't, and she doesn't tell him to or question him about it and he's left wondering what exactly is happening between them and if she's even aware of it. He follows her every movement from the point where she drops her hat on the table in front of them to the point where she leans back and crosses her arms, magazine long forgotten, in front of her.
If this is a game she's playing he's pretty sure he's going to lose.
He's in a deep, deep problem.
"Do you think," he talks without realising it, his own voice sounding foreign, "that things always happen for a reason?"
Fiona's surprised at his uncharacteristic question, he can tell, and a frown adorns her face -- it suits her, strangely, but he has to bite his tongue -- before she replies, her tone careful.
"I'm not sure I understand," she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, "what do you mean?"
Something tells him she knows what he's getting at.
The restlessness isn't getting to him anymore; instead, he's pretty sure the thrill is taking over because there's no way he would ever be this bold otherwise. He gets up from where he is just to sit back down next to her and he has to grab her wrist when this prompts her to almost scoot away in surprise. Her hand stiffens at the cold touch of the metal but she doesn't try to pull away anymore.
"Stop," he still tells her, "let me talk first, alright?"
But he doesn't have anything to say.
So he's left there staring at her, her eyes downcast in anticipation.
He reaches for her with his free hand, his warm one, in an attempt to express himself but chickens out at the last second, his hand hovering her left cheek before he curls it into a fist and drops it back down. Perhaps it would have been better to go through with it, he realises, when he sees she's aware of what he was planning to do but he still prays that thing that make her eyes go a darker green that usual was disappointment and not disapproval.
He has to try, doesn't he?
It's his problem, afterall.
So he brings up all the courage he has and forces his hand back up to touch her face, lightly at first, then pressing harder when she stops flinching at the sensation. She doesn't move away, to his silent delight, and instead brings her eyes back up to his and now he feels it's safe enough to let her wrist go.
He's not sure who leans in first -- or maybe they both did, he's too stunned to understand -- but what he does know is that fighting this has been the stupidest thing he's ever done in a long list of them.
He doesn't know how to describe it. Her hands make their way up to his shoulders as soon as their lips meet and it makes his brain go fuzzy. He's suddenly glad she got rid of her hat earlier because it makes it easy for him to run his hand through her hair and that makes her tighten her hold on him. His friends' voices are a distant hum and he decides he can pretend they're alone for now.
Too soon, they have to break apart, and he finds it hard to look at her directly after this.
"I thought," she's the one to break the silence breathlessly, "you were going to talk."
"I realised I don't have anything to say."
"I do, though," she presses her forehead against his, "yes, things happen for a reason."
He feels the knots in his stomach twist and can't help but smile before she lightly pushes him away. He knows why she's doing it but it still bothers him that they can't have a moment for themselves.
"Now move, idiot," she snorts but it's light hearted, "before anyone sees this."
"What's the problem with that?"
Rhys isn't sure if he should be offended or not.
"Not yet," she waves him off, getting back up and placing her hat back on, "when this whole thing's over."
She doesn't have to elaborate for him to understand and she heads back out leaving him, with a wink, to go over what just happened.
The breeze invites him to lay back down and resume what he was doing but his brain doesn't let him appreciate the silence anymore. Closing his eyes anyway, he lets himself think.
It's a problem.
The caravan's empty, not counting himself, and there's a sort of peaceful silence that Rhys can appreciate. He can still … morehear his companion's voices muffled by the half closed door and by his slowly shutting down brain. He hasn't had a lot of rest recently -- the weather in Pandora has turned out worse than he'd expected and spending his nights tossing and turning doesn't really help when they have action packed days ahead of them. So, really, the light day breeze coming in through the crack of the window near him feels as nice as he could ask for and it almost lulls him to sleep.
Until the sound of heels buzzes in ears.
Fiona doesn't mean it. He doesn't even hear the sound of the door opening -- an indication she's being unusually careful (and it's kind of really endearing when he thinks about it) -- but her shoes aren't as kind as she's trying to be and they break his moment of peace when she tries to sit on the opp… [view original content]
It's a problem.
The caravan's empty, not counting himself, and there's a sort of peaceful silence that Rhys can appreciate. He can still … morehear his companion's voices muffled by the half closed door and by his slowly shutting down brain. He hasn't had a lot of rest recently -- the weather in Pandora has turned out worse than he'd expected and spending his nights tossing and turning doesn't really help when they have action packed days ahead of them. So, really, the light day breeze coming in through the crack of the window near him feels as nice as he could ask for and it almost lulls him to sleep.
Until the sound of heels buzzes in ears.
Fiona doesn't mean it. He doesn't even hear the sound of the door opening -- an indication she's being unusually careful (and it's kind of really endearing when he thinks about it) -- but her shoes aren't as kind as she's trying to be and they break his moment of peace when she tries to sit on the opp… [view original content]
It's a problem.
The caravan's empty, not counting himself, and there's a sort of peaceful silence that Rhys can appreciate. He can still … morehear his companion's voices muffled by the half closed door and by his slowly shutting down brain. He hasn't had a lot of rest recently -- the weather in Pandora has turned out worse than he'd expected and spending his nights tossing and turning doesn't really help when they have action packed days ahead of them. So, really, the light day breeze coming in through the crack of the window near him feels as nice as he could ask for and it almost lulls him to sleep.
Until the sound of heels buzzes in ears.
Fiona doesn't mean it. He doesn't even hear the sound of the door opening -- an indication she's being unusually careful (and it's kind of really endearing when he thinks about it) -- but her shoes aren't as kind as she's trying to be and they break his moment of peace when she tries to sit on the opp… [view original content]
It's a problem.
The caravan's empty, not counting himself, and there's a sort of peaceful silence that Rhys can appreciate. He can still … morehear his companion's voices muffled by the half closed door and by his slowly shutting down brain. He hasn't had a lot of rest recently -- the weather in Pandora has turned out worse than he'd expected and spending his nights tossing and turning doesn't really help when they have action packed days ahead of them. So, really, the light day breeze coming in through the crack of the window near him feels as nice as he could ask for and it almost lulls him to sleep.
Until the sound of heels buzzes in ears.
Fiona doesn't mean it. He doesn't even hear the sound of the door opening -- an indication she's being unusually careful (and it's kind of really endearing when he thinks about it) -- but her shoes aren't as kind as she's trying to be and they break his moment of peace when she tries to sit on the opp… [view original content]
It's a problem.
The caravan's empty, not counting himself, and there's a sort of peaceful silence that Rhys can appreciate. He can still … morehear his companion's voices muffled by the half closed door and by his slowly shutting down brain. He hasn't had a lot of rest recently -- the weather in Pandora has turned out worse than he'd expected and spending his nights tossing and turning doesn't really help when they have action packed days ahead of them. So, really, the light day breeze coming in through the crack of the window near him feels as nice as he could ask for and it almost lulls him to sleep.
Until the sound of heels buzzes in ears.
Fiona doesn't mean it. He doesn't even hear the sound of the door opening -- an indication she's being unusually careful (and it's kind of really endearing when he thinks about it) -- but her shoes aren't as kind as she's trying to be and they break his moment of peace when she tries to sit on the opp… [view original content]
Comments
great<3
Almost done, finally.
Random conversation starter because it's getting pretty quite around here, what's your OTP outside of Borderlands? Mine would have to be Karedevil.
I won't be able to participate in this thread tonight. However, I will be able to, tomorrow. Have fun guys.
The True Kiss Position...
My... my OTP is an anime one...
Oh my my ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
I feel awkward writing this story.
This is like the cheesiest thing I have ever written.
Ever.
Ever ever ever.
pray4me that it's decent ;-;
Lee and Lilly from Walking Dead...
Edit: Also Melinda/Jim from Ghost Whisperer.
Hmmmm... I might get the second one. I like all of them.
I don't know Rhyiona is the only big ship I have. But if I had to choose it would be Carley x Lee or Rick x Daryl xD
I have no idea.
Bring it on the more cheese the better! :^)
is that a challenge because I WILL DELIVER
pls.....
I have awaken from my slumber, still a little dizzy but I am ready for the Rhyiona (⌐■_■)
DON'T PLAY WITH MY FEELS LIKE THAT ;__;
I'M ALREADY SCARED ENOUGH BECAUSE RHYIONA MIGHT NOT HAPPEN
It's a problem.
The caravan's empty, not counting himself, and there's a sort of peaceful silence that Rhys can appreciate. He can still hear his companion's voices muffled by the half closed door and by his slowly shutting down brain. He hasn't had a lot of rest recently -- the weather in Pandora has turned out worse than he'd expected and spending his nights tossing and turning doesn't really help when they have action packed days ahead of them. So, really, the light day breeze coming in through the crack of the window near him feels as nice as he could ask for and it almost lulls him to sleep.
Until the sound of heels buzzes in ears.
Fiona doesn't mean it. He doesn't even hear the sound of the door opening -- an indication she's being unusually careful (and it's kind of really endearing when he thinks about it) -- but her shoes aren't as kind as she's trying to be and they break his moment of peace when she tries to sit on the opposite side of where he's laying.
There's no point pretending he hasn't heard her and he doesn't want to make it awkward for either of them so he rubs his eyes and sits straight up, earning a little jump of surprise from her.
"Oh," she drops the magazine she'd reached for, "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"I wasn't really sleeping." His voice is cracking and he doesn't really blame her when she clearly doesn't believe him. "Really, I wasn't. I was trying to, though."
"Same thing then, sorry."
He can only grunt in acknowledgement, his whole body screaming for him to lay back down. Moving his arm to cover his forehead, shielding him from the sudden unwelcome light invading his eyes, he slightly cracked one eyelid open to look at her. She's reaching over to grab the magazine again and he can vaguely tell it's about races. He doesn't really care but she seems to have taken an interest in the matter ever since she was forced into one and it was genuinely cute.
There's a goofy smile on his face that he isn't even aware of until Fiona feels his eyes burning into her face and raises a questioning eyebrow at him.
"Take a picture," she teases amidst her confusion, "it'll last longer."
The stuttering out of his mouth sounds ridiculous even to him but he's really not sure how to stop it or what to say and the flush attacking his face isn't helping either. He knows how ridiculous he must look but her laughter carries no malice and it's not as embarrassing as it could have been.
"I was just..."
"Staring," she finishes for him, tearing her eyes from him back to her magazine again, "I know, I noticed."
It's the truth and as much as he wants to deny it he doesn't have an excuse so he stays quiet to try and save whatever bits of his dignity he can.
It doesn't work because he can't stop his mouth from talking.
"Sooo," he scratches the back of his head, "why are you not outside?"
She doesn't look up from what she's reading and it makes him more annoyed than he'd care to admit and half of it comes from the fact that he can't even identify why he's feeling this way all of a sudden. It's quickly becoming a problem he doesn't know how to fix.
"Because they're playing Truth or Dare and I wanted to get away from it."
"Scared of spilling secrets?" He wiggles his eyebrows at her suggestively and he knows she can see it from the corner of her eyes when they roll back at him.
"No," she adds with a stern tone, "scared of being told to do stupid things in a stupid game."
"I think," he's pushing his luck, "you're scared."
"Why don't you go play, then? Are you scared?"
The magazine has dropped on her lap by this point, Scooter's face visible in the top corner, and she isn't paying the least attention to it. It makes his stomach churn pleasantly and he's slowly becoming aware of what's happening.
"Touché."
It's really a problem.
Silence falls again when she offers him a mix of a snarl and a victorious smirk but no words. The usual tension is there but it feels different. He doesn't turn his gaze away, can't, and she doesn't tell him to or question him about it and he's left wondering what exactly is happening between them and if she's even aware of it. He follows her every movement from the point where she drops her hat on the table in front of them to the point where she leans back and crosses her arms, magazine long forgotten, in front of her.
If this is a game she's playing he's pretty sure he's going to lose.
He's in a deep, deep problem.
"Do you think," he talks without realising it, his own voice sounding foreign, "that things always happen for a reason?"
Fiona's surprised at his uncharacteristic question, he can tell, and a frown adorns her face -- it suits her, strangely, but he has to bite his tongue -- before she replies, her tone careful.
"I'm not sure I understand," she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, "what do you mean?"
Something tells him she knows what he's getting at.
The restlessness isn't getting to him anymore; instead, he's pretty sure the thrill is taking over because there's no way he would ever be this bold otherwise. He gets up from where he is just to sit back down next to her and he has to grab her wrist when this prompts her to almost scoot away in surprise. Her hand stiffens at the cold touch of the metal but she doesn't try to pull away anymore.
"Stop," he still tells her, "let me talk first, alright?"
But he doesn't have anything to say.
So he's left there staring at her, her eyes downcast in anticipation.
He reaches for her with his free hand, his warm one, in an attempt to express himself but chickens out at the last second, his hand hovering her left cheek before he curls it into a fist and drops it back down. Perhaps it would have been better to go through with it, he realises, when he sees she's aware of what he was planning to do but he still prays that thing that make her eyes go a darker green that usual was disappointment and not disapproval.
He has to try, doesn't he?
It's his problem, afterall.
So he brings up all the courage he has and forces his hand back up to touch her face, lightly at first, then pressing harder when she stops flinching at the sensation. She doesn't move away, to his silent delight, and instead brings her eyes back up to his and now he feels it's safe enough to let her wrist go.
He's not sure who leans in first -- or maybe they both did, he's too stunned to understand -- but what he does know is that fighting this has been the stupidest thing he's ever done in a long list of them.
He doesn't know how to describe it. Her hands make their way up to his shoulders as soon as their lips meet and it makes his brain go fuzzy. He's suddenly glad she got rid of her hat earlier because it makes it easy for him to run his hand through her hair and that makes her tighten her hold on him. His friends' voices are a distant hum and he decides he can pretend they're alone for now.
Too soon, they have to break apart, and he finds it hard to look at her directly after this.
"I thought," she's the one to break the silence breathlessly, "you were going to talk."
"I realised I don't have anything to say."
"I do, though," she presses her forehead against his, "yes, things happen for a reason."
He feels the knots in his stomach twist and can't help but smile before she lightly pushes him away. He knows why she's doing it but it still bothers him that they can't have a moment for themselves.
"Now move, idiot," she snorts but it's light hearted, "before anyone sees this."
"What's the problem with that?"
Rhys isn't sure if he should be offended or not.
"Not yet," she waves him off, getting back up and placing her hat back on, "when this whole thing's over."
She doesn't have to elaborate for him to understand and she heads back out leaving him, with a wink, to go over what just happened.
The breeze invites him to lay back down and resume what he was doing but his brain doesn't let him appreciate the silence anymore. Closing his eyes anyway, he lets himself think.
Maybe it wasn't a problem afterall.
EAT THE CHEESE
EAT IT
also forgive any typos and stuffs ;-;
The awkward moment when Ghost Whisperer has you in tears.
when the squad thirsty for Rhyiona and you wanna provide
Which one Wolf?
THESE TWO JERKS
It's not out of Borderlands, but it's out of Tales. I really like Jack x Nisha. Freaking OTP 4ever.
I love it!
I know that feel mate
Love the fanfic
The cheese is awesome. I luv it!
Give me the cheese~