in the impossible scenario that no ones asked for even one of them by this point, how do do you feel about doodling any member of trash trio of your choice? (cause any day where any of my children cross my dash is a good day lol)
well since u asked so politely not only do you get one member of the trash trio.... not only TWO... but all THREE
(in slightly less refined form but ;w; theyre still here!!)
Day 007: Favorite Ending
“If you can’t forgive and forget, pick one.”
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i think that in the end they would get back to being best friends bc i cant imagine going through that and not having my best friend to lean on
the quarry (2022) // until dawn (2015)
🦋 UNTIL DAWN 🦋 1/?
i can't remember if i posted this or not so if i did well you're getting two ashley's
Chapters: 2/7 Fandom: Until Dawn (Video Game), The Quarry (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Jack Fiddler | The Stranger, Constance Hackett, Travis Hackett, Chris Hackett, Kaylee Hackett, Caleb Hackett, Robert “Bobby” Hackett Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Everyone Lives (Until Dawn), Crossover, Spoilers, Family Reunions, The Fiddlers and Hacketts are related, Pre-Canon, Blood and Gore Summary: The call had come as a wildly unpleasant surprise - how many years had they gone without speaking? And now all of a sudden, Cousin Constance was just…what, inviting him over for supper? He wasn’t buying it. Not a single word of it. No, the Hacketts were in trouble, he thought, deep trouble indeed. After all, there were only so many kinds of problems you called a Fiddler to try and fix.
Contains MAJOR spoilers for The Quarry!!!
Hi!!! How are you? I hope everything is fine!♡ may I request how was born the friendship between Ashley and Taylor? Thank you!♡
Core classes were, in a word, a joke - not that ‘joke’ was the word Taylor would use to describe Intro to Poetry, oh no, there were a plethora of words that occurred to her every time she sat down in that class, usually ranging from ‘torture’ to ‘bullshit,’ but she figured, if pressed, ‘joke’ would do the job for this PG-13 crowd of overly emotional whiners.
She’d been doodling on the side of her shoe when she heard the timid little “Um, hi, sorry?” that got her to look up; lo and behold, there was Front Row Girl, the one with the mousy features and the voice that made her sound like she was perpetually on the verge of breaking down into tears. “We’re, uh, supposed to share our assignment with someone else, and...it didn’t look like you had a partner, so I was wondering...oh, uh, but I mean, don’t feel pressured if - ”
Taylor dropped her foot from the chair beside her before the other girl could work herself into having a full-on panic attack, momentarily capping her Sharpie. “Yeah, totally, I just don’t think you’re going to be a fan of my work, is all,” she said, wondering whether she’d played up the sarcastic tone enough to cover the truth of the matter (Front Row Girl was, after all, something of a teacher’s pet, and whenever she shared her writing, there were usually ‘ooh’s and wordless looks of awe that rippled through the classroom), “I hate this classroom/I hate the people in it/Just kill me now please.”
There was a beat where she was sure - so absolutely, utterly sure - she was going to get a strange look in return...but then FRG plopped herself down into the seat beside her and shot a secretive smirk in her direction, giggling, “Probably the most emotionally resonant haiku I’ve ever heard,” before smoothing her own papers out onto the desk.
I can't stop to think about Josh reading one of his writting full of horror and John trying to not run away from the class and lost his face in Front of his students! We all know too well how much he can't stand those things!🤣
And so the day he’d been waiting for had finally arrived...he was positively full of pins and needles as he watched the professor file through the stack of writing assignments on his desk, calling each student up one by one to see their grades; Josh could feel Ashley’s disapproving side-eyes, but that was fine, because at the end of the day he knew that he had done his best work and yadda yadda yadda...
Mostly he just wanted to see how far he could push their jumpy ol’ Dan-Aykroyd-lookin’ prof before formal complaints were made.
It took forever for his name to be called (ah, the curse of going alphabetically), but when he was, there was no hiding the spring that accompanied each of his steps up to the desk, much less the grin as he braced his hands against John’s desk, asking as casually (and as innocently) as his body would allow, “What’s the prognosis, Doc?”
It was difficult to describe the look John flashed him at that - a fun little number that lived comfortably in the middle space between ‘You need to get some fucking help, kid’ and ‘Please never, ever give me anything like this again’ and ‘We’re not going to get along, are we?’ - but it was not difficult to notice the faint shake in the guy’s hand as he held Josh’s paper out to him; “Maybe consider cutting down on the viscera in the next assignment, hmm?” John suggested, conveniently moving onto the next name before Josh could get another quip in.
He made his way back to his seat, beaming down at the many, many notes scribbled in the margins of his paper until the chair beside him gave the faintest, quietest squeak as Ashley leaned over, speaking very softly from the corner of her mouth as she said, “You...are going...to get thrown out...of this class...”
He turned to her, playfully quirking one of his eyebrows as he leaned in just as close, his only reply a low “Good” and then a muffled laugh as she nudged him with her elbow.
Four Daughters of Darkness | Sole Survivors
OT3 Random number generator: Josh/Matt/Mike
Even after the sliding metal grate shut behind them, its locking mechanism falling into place with a solid click, it was hard to feel all that confident about waiting there in the darkness of the basement while those...things stalked the lodge upstairs; they strained their ears for the better part of a minute, and finally, when it was determined all they could hear was the rushing of their own blood, they deemed it safe enough to risk talking.
“This is so fucked...” Mike muttered, leaning himself against a dusty table, “This is so goddamn fucked.”
“Hey, look, the way I see it, we’re gonna be fine, okay - juuust fine,” Josh said, finding he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blackness on the other side of the grate, his fingers curling and uncurling around the metal rungs as he continued, “Because we’re three relatively athletic, relatively handsome guys...and this isn’t how people like us go out, y’know?”
For a moment there was silence...and then Matt, sounding perfectly indignant, asked, “Wait, relatively athletic?”
“Relatively handsome?” Mike added.
That got him to stop looking towards the stairs they’d come from - Josh rolled his eyes and groaned, “Yeah, okay, my bad, I take that back...this is absolutely the death we all deserve.”
I would like to request your finest post-Blackwood angst, madam
“So you don’t remember...anything?” they asked her, and not for the first time, their faces warped and somehow too harsh, hidden behind blinking red recording lights and the scorching white lamp meant to illuminate each and every scrape and bruise so they could catalogue them for later.
Time had passed in the sticky-syrup way of dozing off during class - moving sometimes too quickly for her to keep up with, and then other times so slowly that she felt the minute might never end - but the table in front of her was too high and the plastic chair under her was too solid and while there was a clock ticking away somewhere beyond the dizzying paparazzi flash of camera lights, this wasn’t study hall. They’d asked her questions she had no answers to, questions about...about fire, and the lodge, and serial killers, and gas leaks, things that she couldn’t have answered even if her head hadn’t been pounding like a drum.
“Um...” Jess said, and to her it felt very much like the ninetieth (or maybe even nine hundredth) time she’d said it as she sat there, clutching the scratchy fabric of the old jacket she’d found in the mine closer to herself, her nose too plugged or too broken to smell the reek of it, but her fingers avoiding the patches that had gone stiff with blood, “Um...um...um...I...” She swallowed hard and her throat felt like it was full of glass dust, but she focused as hard as she could, squeezing her eyes shut tight to help bring the memory forward as she slowly (very slowly) managed to pull something out of the noise in her head: “I remember...Mike...he...he came for me...I remember...that.”
And she couldn’t tell what their faces did when she said that, or even if they did anything, the lights in front of her blinding her, skewering her eyeballs until she felt like her head might split in two...she couldn’t tell what their faces did, but she didn’t need to, because when she asked “Is he...okay?” their combined silence was all the answer she needed.
You already know who I headcanon Chris's first kiss is, but what about you?
Okay, this...this was...he’d spent a fair (read: frankly embarrassing) amount of time in his life imagining how this little ordeal would go down - usually those daydreams involved things like, uh, impromptu movie ‘dates’ or surprise revelations in the middle of thunderstorms or, once, the shocking reward for providing the winning answer in a scorchingly close trivia match.
He couldn’t really say that he imagined his first kiss to be a panicked ‘please-don’t-get-eaten-by-monsters-and-die’ number, and if he was being honest, he was actually a little disappointed in himself that it had never occurred to him; given his track record, maybe it wasn’t the strangest way it could’ve happened, but...
When she pulled away, the memory of her lips still warm against his, Ashley offered him a watery smile, the left side of her face black and purple and swelling something terrible, and...yeah, that hadn’t been in any of the daydreams either. “Come back safe,” she said, her voice lilting upwards right at the end, almost (but not quite) turning it into a question, her fingers still curled tight around the front of his parka as though she could keep him from going out into the snow by sheer force of will.
Yeah, he almost said, Yeah I’ll try...but that was when a groan from just behind them interrupted the moment, the stranger pausing just long enough to size the two of them up with his mismatched eyes before tugging his goggles down and shaking his head in exasperation.
And all other complaints aside, God Almighty, the creepy old guy with a flamethrower strapped to his back had also never factored into how he’d imagined his first kiss would go.
OT3 Random number generator: Matt/Jess/Hannag
They’d only been at the party because she’d invited them - they were her friends, after all, people who were important to her, two people she thought she could trust, who she’d put so much faith into. She could see how Emily would take part in the prank, even Ashley, and sure her hopes had been high but she’d known from the get-go that the Mike thing was too good to be true...Jess and Matt, though?
Jess and Matt?
That shit hurt.
But that was fine...just swell, in fact...because maybe they’d been at the party last year because she’d invited them, but this year Josh had done it for her, and now here they were, dazed and confused and oh, what a shock: scared.
So she hid in the mines just as they’d hid in the guest room, waiting, waiting, waiting to jump out - only this time, there wouldn’t be any laughing.
I'm here humbling asking the meeting of Fliss with Julia in the Ghost Hunting AU! Bonus if Julia is with her BFFs Emily and Jess! Thank you and have a wonderful weekend!!♥
“No, oh no, oh nononononono...no,” Julia was almost laughing as she said it - almost, but not quite - looking between the lot of them and saying it with more and more intensity each time: “No - ” to Ashley, “ - no - ” to Chris, “ - no - ” to Josh, and then she paused, perplexed, “ - n...okay, I don’t actually...know you two.”
Fliss glanced over to Sam (who simply met her gaze and shrugged) and though neither of them said a word, it was clear as day that they were both a-okay with being unknown entities in this particular clusterfuck.
But that was when Julia’s friends walked into the house alongside her, their faces contorting with exasperation for less than a second (the second they saw Conrad standing there, no doubt), before one of them, the blonde one, Jess, noticed Sam. “Oh, hey, you’re like...the ghost people,” she said, sounding puzzled, “Uh...you guys have a ghost problem, Jules?”
“No,” she said again as she whirled towards Conrad, her eyes full of holy hellfire as she sized him up, “I have a brother problem.”
Averting her gaze towards the bay window if only to give herself an excuse not to look at any of the others, Fliss muttered, “Nice to meet you too...” to herself.
If you need someone to talk to…
