#jess is horrible talking about his emotions. he’s completely closed off to her for most of their relationship. and Then. he Leaves.

[sams-sass]

The Others pt 7

Here is the next part to The Others. Hope you guys like it, thanks for all the love, and as always: stay sassy.

*sorry if I tagged you already, I accidentally deleted the original post. 

Read Parts One through Six here:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Pairings: Sam x Psychic!Reader

Warnings: Discussions of death, discussions of past and self doubt, angst, fluff

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You were laying across the backseat of the impala, Jenny laying on top of you. You felt her hot tears hitting your shirt and soaking through to your skin. You were taking her home. There was no need for her to suffer anymore than she already had. She had seen and dealt enough with the demons. Her family had been worried sick since she was reported missing at the school and it was time she went home. It was time she had the chance to recuperate in peace with people she loved and who loved her right back.

“I’m so sorry.” She said against your chest, her voice was small.

“Don’t be sorry. You have been so brave throughout this whole thing. You deserve some rest.” You ran your fingers through her hair and wrapped your arms around her.

“Y/N is right, Jenny. You have done more than enough, you should be with your family now. We’ll get the sons of bitches.” Dean said, looking at the two of you in the rearview mirror. Jenny sniffled and nodded, closing her eyes tight in fear.

“What am I going to tell them?” She asked, sitting up and looking out the window.

“As much of the truth as you want. If you want to make up a complete lie, I will back you up. If you want to tell them everything, I will back you up. Tell them whatever you feel comfortable with.” You found her eyes, sending her a reassuring smile and grabbing her hand. She tried to smile back, but you could still see the worry in her eyes.

Dean pulled up to her house about an hour later, all the lights were on and you could see movement inside. Jenny’s lips parted and all the air in her lungs felt trapped. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. The door flung open and her mom ran out onto the driveway. You saw Jenny’s face twist in both pain and relief as she opened the door and ran into her mothers waiting arms. They cried together, holding each other tightly in the cool evening air. You touched your cheek and felt the wetness on your skin, realizing you were crying as well. You got out of the car and walked over to them, touched Jenny on the shoulder. They pulled apart and her mother quickly gathered you in her arms as well.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for bringing my baby home.” She whispered in your ear. Jenny pulled you to her after her mom let you go. You inhaled her scent and let it stay in your lungs for a moment. She pulled back slightly, still holding you in her arms. She looked you deep in the eyes.

“You can do this, Y/N. You go back there and you kick ass. You are so strong, I am so proud of you. You kill those bastards for what they did to me.” Her eyes were filled with tears, her face red and swollen. You nodded, holding back your emotions. She let you go and fell against her mom again, they walked inside holding each other as you climbed back in the car.

“Ready?” Sam asked, turning around to look at you. You paused for a moment and let the question settle inside you. You were ready. Ready to take the fight to them, ready to use whatever strength you had to get the job done. You were ready to end this.

“Ready.” You answered, your voice was even and calm.

 --------------------

Jenny didn’t live far from campus, you pulled in about an hour and a half later. The three of you went into your apartment to make a plan and for a place to crash. You moved everything off the dining room table so the boys could lay out maps of campus, books bobby gave you, and a journal. Sam left to get you guys food, leaving you and Dean alone.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if you come with us.” Dean didn’t even wait for the door to fully close.

“Sam already gave me the ‘I don’t want you to get hurt’ speech.” You answered, looking up at him.

“That’s exactly why I don’t want you to come, Y/N. I was with him when Jess died. It almost broke him. He had nightmares about her death for months afterward. He couldn’t mention her without almost breaking down, I still see him struggle with it. I also see that he cares for you deeply and I can’t watch him get hurt again, not like that. Especially because it’s this demon.” Dean had come around the table and took your shoulders in his hands. Looking directly into your eyes.

“Dean, I can’t imagine what you and Sam have gone through because of this demon. Your mom and then Sam’s girlfriend, it’s horrible and I am so sorry. I have to do this, Dean, I have to fight them for Jenny. She is like a sister to me, and what they did to her…and that I had to watch it. I want them gone. For good. For Jenny, for Jess, for your mom, and for you two. I completely understand that you don’t want me to get hurt. If I was in your shoes, I would be saying the same thing. I’m going with you. I have to do this.” Now it was your turn to look into Dean’s eyes.

“Well, you’re stubborn. You and Sam have that in common.” Dean laughed, taking his hands off your shoulders. You giggled too, playing with a strand of hair. Sam walked in with food and beer, handing one to his brother and then you. You ate in relative silence, most of the food untouched. Then you made your plan.

“I say, we just give them what they want. Me on a platter.” Sam said, taking a sip of beer.

“No, Sam, that’s just stupid and too risky.” Dean argued back. “Somehow we need to get in there so we can make devils traps in the house.” He leaned back in his chair.

“What if we go first thing in the morning and watch? We know how many of them are in there and they can’t all be missing class.” You suggested, placing your elbows on the table.

“Best idea I have heard all night.” Dean replied, standing and stretching his arms out. “I’m exhausted, night you two.” He then walked away and into Jenny’s room to get some rest, not giving Sam anytime to argue back. Sam let out a long sigh next to you and sunk a little in his chair, defeated.

“I’m gonna shower, why don’t you find something for us to watch.” You stood and ran your fingers through his hair, cupping his jaw with your hand before walking away.

After your shower, you joined Sam on the couch with your beer. He was still flipping through channels, his eyes clearly not seeing the screen. You reached over and placed your hand over his, taking the remote and turning off the TV.

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, pulling your legs up onto the couch.

“Talk about what?” He asked back. There was a smidge of anger in his voice.

“Whatever is bothering you.” You answered, leaning closer to him.

“This demon. It killed my mom. It killed Jess. Dean and I, we think it killed our dad too. Y/N, if it does anything to you…I don’t think I could handle it. I don’t think I could go on. I have already lost three people and my childhood to this demon. I can’t-I can’t lose anyone else I care about. I really wish you would just stay here tomorrow.” He tried again to tell you how he felt. You could see the unshed tears and raw emotion in his eyes as he spoke. You licked your lips and looked down at the couch, taking a deep breath into your lungs.

“When I was 10 I had a crush on this boy down the street. His name was Riley. He was a year older than me so I thought he was really cool and mature.” You smiled at the memory, Sam smiled with you. “One day, we were playing outside. It was a nice sunny day out. I remember the smell of his moms flower garden. He touched my shoulder, nothing weird, but I saw it. I saw how he died. I watched him get hit by a car while he was on his bike. I saw his bike, the metal mangled and twisted in the road. I felt his last breath leave his lungs. I heard his head hit the pavement so hard it cracked. And do you know what I did?” You looked directly at Sam then, he was hanging on every word you were speaking. He shook his head and waited for the answer. “Nothing. I didn’t do a damn thing. I went home and never spoke of it to anyone. I was petrified. What would happen if I told someone? Would they yell at me? Would I get in trouble? Then, the most amazing thing happened. Nothing. Nothing happened to Riley, he went and lived his life. For two more years. On a warm summers night in the middle of July, fate took him. The crickets were so loud that night, and the moon was full and heavy in the sky. When he was 13 years old he was riding his bike home from a friends, it wasn’t too late but it was already dark out. The car didn’t see him. He died and it was all my fault because I kept this horrible secret to myself. I didn’t tell anyone because I was scared what would happen to me, and Riley died because of it.” You were crying now, the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Y/N, it wasn’t your fault, you probably couldn’t have stopped it.” Sam leaned towards you, his hand running over yours.

“I felt it as soon as it happened. I was in my room, enjoying my Friday night and my heart stopped. I heard his breath in my ear. He never came to visit me, but I couldn’t get his face out of my mind. On summer nights when I am laying alone in bed, the wind outside will sound like his last breath. When the moon is full and high in the sky, I see the way the moonlight reflected off his bike in the street. When the nights are warm and the crickets are singing their endless song, I can still see his honey brown eyes and his curly black hair. Ever since the day he died I have lived in fear of closing my eyes, for what I might see when I do. I am always afraid of the cold and lonely nights when the air changes and I see my breath against the pitch black of night. Who will come into my room? Who will touch me with their boney, cold and grey skin. Who will whisper in my ear with their rotting breath?” You looked up at him. Your eyes wide. “Then you came. I touched you and I felt warm again, you kissed me and I saw colors again. I have to do this, Sam. I have to fight them, because if I don’t it will haunt me for the rest of my days. I will see those girls every time I close my eyes, just like Riley. I got pulled into this, and I intend to see it through.” You swallowed down your emotions, your throat raw from crying.

“I know what you mean. When I touch you, I feel warm too. I feel excited and calm all at once. When we kissed, I swear I could feel myself being filled from head to toe. I’m not sure what spell is over us, but I don’t want it to ever be broken.” He reached up, running his fingers over your cheek. “We’ll do this together.” He nodded once, looking you in the eye. You smiled and jumped on top of him. Your arms flying around his neck and holding him impossibly close to you. Your legs on either side of his trim waist, heat rolling through you. Your lips molded against his, bring all sorts of feelings up. The way his hands twisted into your hair, pulling ever so slightly. The way he listened to your every breath and sound, following your exact instructions. It was like the two of you were reading each other, never ending chapters written with heartbeats and breaths across skin.

The next morning you were in the impala outside the frat house. It was early. You yawned in the cold and staleness of morning, blinking your eyes. You held the coffee cup in both of your hands, keeping them warm. Movement. All of you turned and looked through whatever windows you could see into. Two boys left the house. They didn’t say a word the entire time, just walking with vacant expressions. About fifteen minuets later three more left, wearing the same vacant expressions. The three of you exchanged looks. Another twenty minuets went by and then two more walked out, one of them being Brandon. After they were out of eyesight you went in, Dean first with you and Sam behind. Sam kept you closely behind him. Sam had his gun raised in front of him. He was in a crouching stance as he silently walked around the house, clearing each room.  

“Hold onto my jacket.” He whispered, turning his head slightly. You reached up and grabbed a fistful of his jacket, stepping with him throughout the house. There was no one in the house, you were all alone.

“Well, once again, that was weirdly easy.” Dean said, lowering his gun slightly. Sam nodded in agreement. Even for you, it did seem too easy. The boys lifted rugs, moved beds, and rearranged furniture to paint devils traps on the floor. They stood on chairs and counters to paint them on the ceiling as well. You looked around the house, touching things as you went. Something was bothering you that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. There was a strange buzzing happening inside you, it seemed like it was leading you somewhere. You closed your eyes and opened your mind. Listening to the energy around you. It was pulling you towards the basement. You opened the door and turned the light on. The moldy and stale air hit you in the face instantly. You gingerly walked down the stairs and into the disgusting and grimy basement. Dirt and dust covered every inch. Insects and rodents, dead and alive, were everywhere. You moved through the basement, keeping your arms close to your side. There was a doorway, when you walked through you saw the room from your vision. This is where they hurt Jenny. This is where the yellow eyed demon spoke to you. This is where they would sacrifice you. The buzzing was back and stronger than before. You held up one hand as you walked, letting it guide you. Off to the side was a door. You touched the doorknob and took a sharp inhale.

A girl laid on the table. She was bloody and old looking. Her eyes were wide, but unseeing. She was dead. You saw that she had the same brand on her chest that Jenny had. Brandon lifted her from the table and opened the door. He tossed her body in with the others before he wiped his hands on his jeans, his face a scowl.

You blinked back into the now, your breath coming in ragged. You raced back up the stairs and ran directly into Sam, wrapping your arms around him. He held you against him, his fingers tracing your neck.

“They are in the basement.” You mumbled against his shirt. “All of them, the girls. They are down there.” You felt him lift his chin off the top of your head. You leaned back to look at him, his face was one of worry.

“Sam, take her back to her apartment.” Dean walked over to the two of you.

“Dean, what if they come back?” Sam asked, letting you go.

“I’ve got an arsenal.” Dean replied, flicking his head towards his duffel bag.

“I’ll drop her off and then come right back.” Sam said, walking towards the door. You in tow. You wanted to help, but something told you there was something that needed to be done. Something that you didn’t want or need to see. You and Sam climbed into the impala and headed back to your apartment. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, most of the day spent at the house. You and Sam walked into the apartment, something didn’t feel right. A chill ran through you and you stopped dead in your tracks. You heard the sound of a hard object against a skull. Heard Sam fall to the floor. Then you felt the sharp pain yourself, you fell to the floor. Blackness took you.

You woke with a throbbing and heavy pain in your head. You blinked a few times, your vision blurry. You lifted your head feeling your body screaming at you. You groaned and tried to move your hands, only to realize they were tied behind your back. You panicked and began to wiggle, jolting your arms against the ropes.

“Hello, Y/N.” Your eyes widened and your head shot up towards the voice. Brandon. “I see you brought me a Winchester as well.” He was leaning against the doorframe into your living room.

“I’ll kill you.” Sam spoke, he was tied up too. His back against yours in the middle of your kitchen. There was suddenly banging on the door.

“Sam! Y/N!” Deans voice was panicked as he pounded on the door.

“Can’t let big bro get to you.” Brandon pushed himself off the wall and placed his hands on you and Sam’s shoulders. There was a whooshing sound and then you were in the basement. The filthy and disgusting basement. All the frat boys were standing around the table in the basement. Their bodies were covered in bruises and their eyes were a deep onyx. There was another man there that you didn’t recognize. He was older than the others and you didn’t understand why he was there in the basement. He had a large smile on his face that looked ghastly against the darkness of the situation. He turned his head slightly and you caught a glimpse of his eyes, a pale and spotted yellow. He looked directly at you. Directly into your eyes.

“Hello, Y/N, I have waited so so long.” His voice was grossly cheery in the dank basement.

Tags: @watermelonlipstick​ @virtualheaderssupernaturalnerd​ @aeo10fan​ @hecatemacbeth7​ @doctorlilo​ @wnchetrs​ @lukawats​ @defenderrosetyler​

#sam x reader #Sam Winchester #sam and dean #SAMMY LOVE #sam winchester angst #sam imagine #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #sammy love club #sam #SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #SPN Family #spn fanfic series #spn fanfic pond #spn fantasy #supernatural #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural family #supernatural fic #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural fantasy #supernatural reader insert #spn reader insert

[starfighter10]

tlou2 opinion

So I really had to share my opinion(rant) on the last of us part 2 and boy I have a lot to say. I am gonna dwell deep into this one, so bear with me if you can and want to

 But before that I have to share the feelings I hold for tlou1.Back when I finished tlou1, I knew I experienced something truly magical. I was pleasantly surprised by the beautifully crafted story, the execution of the characters, the music, the gameplay , and the effort that went into shaping the journey of the game,the character arcs and bonds. You could see and experience the uniqueness and passion that went into the first project. This game immediately became a favourite of mine.

When tlou2 was announced, my expectations were skyhigh,was elated to continue Joel and Ellie's journey and how it unfolds. The bar set by the first one was exceptionally high and probably impossible to achieve, but I had trust and faith in naughty dog, thought they couldn't go wrong with this one. After experiencing tlou2 , I am speechless.... not in a good way. I have no words to express my disappointment,frustration and anger I feel right now. I don't even know where to begin.... the absolute mess of a plot, the original characters being blatantly ignored, retconned and disrespected in favour of new bland characters, the plotholes in the story, the false advertising and marketing, naughty dog's hubris, making a complete mockery of your fans who are paying money to play something but getting baited for something else. I am utterly heartbroken and angry.

The plot - the driving force of the game is over ambitious, lazy,sloppy and nihilistic. It felt forced. Naughty dog bit off more then they could chew with this one. Tlou2 could have gone several ways in terms of plot with the existing characters, yet we get the cliche revenge plotline with the character abandoning the quest altogether to realise revenge isn't the answer. This trope has been done several times before, with more finesse and better execution. The writers aim for the " Ellie breaks the cycle of the revenge" but it really fails to achieve this as she blatanly annihilates several characters,npcs along the way in quest of her revenge. The damage has been done practically speaking. According to naughty dog's logic , I should expect Nora's sister or a random npc's friend/relatives in tlou3 hunting down Ellie in their revenge quest. Also Abby's quest literally does nothing for me. This character was so poorly written, executed and shoved down our throats, I didn't have any sort of attachment or empathy for her. I simply don't care about this character.

The circumstances that lead to Joel's death was out of character as well. Since the trailer drop in 2016, I was prepared for his inevitable death. Thought he would probably go out like the badass he is, maybe sacrificing himself for Ellie/tommy. The Joel I know from tlou1, a hardened survivor who has fought tooth and nail to survive the past 20 years would NEVER end up in a situation like that. Joel was intensely alert, critical,clever and intuitive. The argument here may be that he has softened in Jackson, but I feel at this point this should be 2nd nature to him. Something that is automatic. Yet the writer's now want you to believe he is a dumbass who would trust a group of strangers, make small talk and introductions and end up in a situation like that. One of the bigger issues was the constant reinforcing that Joel wiped down the fireflies in cold blood and doomed humanity for death by robbing them of their cure for survival,Ellie believing the cure would have been a guaranteed sure shot success ..... WHY? This retcons the first one completely. The beauty of the tlou1 was it's moral ambiguity and uncertainty. We were constantly hinted that fireflies is a mess of a group whose agendas weren't clearly known, whose actions caused the sacrifice of many people for the sake of a slight possibility of a cure.They were power hungry and were cruel enough to send a 14 year old girl to her death with no remorse,consent or any proper investigation or medical research. Joel initially negotiates to find someone else, gets shut down immediately, gets his means of survival snatched and was practically marched to his death. He had no option but to wipe clean these people who planned on killing someone dear to him, for something that is uncertain or in vain. And yes this was a selfish decision on Joel's part, and that was the beauty of it. The moral ambiguity. He was right or wrong or both - open to your interpretation. BUT NOW NAUGHTY DOG WANTS TO TO ERASE ALL THAT DEVELOPMENT. The active reinforcement that Joel was a cold, ruthless murderer who killed fireflies and deprived humanity of its cure? Trying to erase the fact that he was surviving and trying to keep his dear ones safe in this cold, brutal and unforgiving postapocalyptic world. So that we sympathize with Abby and enjoy golfing the tf outa Joel?. Ellie seems like a different character in this one, but again this character is immediately pushed to a whirlwind of traumatic events right from the start of the game. I missed her spark of joy,humour and enthusiasm. The treatment of the main chatacter in her own game is utterly cruel and disappointing, and seemed unfair to me. By the end, Ellie is broken beyond repair. Though she thematically chooses to be the better person and gives up on her vengeance and hate, she still manages to be on the losing side as she ends up losing her father figure which was her closest bond, loses Dina and the kid , she doesn't have her community, her people, her fucking fingers as well. Why? So Ellie could suffer a little more and be unable to do most important thing that bonded her to Joel. Not to mention she loses her switchblade too, her mother's final memory. Surprised that ND spared her mother's letter . Feel her pain and despair. Why does Ellie get such a shitty,depressing, worthless, futile and a hopeless conclusion while Abby not only gets her revenge successfully, forms a close bond in Lev and gets to escape possibly to a fresh start. Ellie? Nah she gets to suffer alone. Her BIGGEST FEAR has become a reality by the end. The least they could do is let Ellie have some solace and calm, surrounded by her loved ones on that farm,her trying to recover from her trauma slowly but surely, it's what joel would have wished for. But no, she is left all alone, absolutely traumatized, all by herself with nothing to look forward to. Oh and tommy is whole new character in every scene. So keep your eyes peeled for various versions of tommy throughout. The character inconsistencies are ridiculous.

The gameplay, beautiful sceneries, and new characters like dina and jesse are few of the positives of game - leaning more towards Jesse. Dina felt perfect for Ellie and Jesse did manage to lighten up few of the moments. The space shuttle cutscene, the museum flashback sequence, ellie and joel's flashbacks were the only parts that remotely captures the magic and beauty of tlou1. I got emotional watching them. The space shuttle sequence hits you with the feels. Joel slaying a bloater with a machete was cinematic art. (Hot too)

Abby... the forced deuteragonist, is an utter failure of character execution. Her character was forced onto us, felt hasty and lacked real build up. She starts off on the wrong foot by killing one of the most popular characters. If ND really wanted this character to work, the only possible way would have been to play her point of view and backstory prior to her mercilessly killing and torturing a guy who just saved her life. What was ND thinking? That a few hours of her pov,forced out of the blue background story, her getting to play with dogs while ellie has no option but to attack the dogs, the abby-lev bond which is pretty much discount or the walmart version ellie and joel would be enough to side with her over ellie and joel???? The part where they force you to play as abby against ellie? It made me sick. I felt cheated and disgusted.

The false advertising to make us believe joel is alive and good? That this is an ellie and joel centric game?To tug at your heartstrings like this. A complete mockery of the fans who waited 7 years to see their favorite characters get horribly treated,retconned, disrespected and thrown under the bus in favour of new unlikable characters. Butchering the heart and soul of the last of us - Joel and Ellie's bond. The fact that these two don't even get a heart to heart before his death, that Joel dies uncertain of ellie's future, maybe thought he could not save Ellie in those final painful moments, that she had never forgiven him, Ellie never getting her closure with Joel, or really getting to tell him how much he meant to her.... all these thoughts legit made me shed tears. Broke my heart. This is how much ND wanted to honour and respect ellie and joel.

The game's conclusion is hollow, futile, worthless and depressing. And in my opinion, this is non canon. This is the only way I can cope with this unsastifying conclusion. It is immaturity I guess... but I will feel better about it.

Though I utterly despise tlou2, tlou1 will continue to remain one of my favorite pieces of work in fiction. JOEL FUCKING MILLER WILL ALWAYS BE THE BADDEST BITCH AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE THE LOVE I HAVE FOR HIM.

If someone actually read it all the way, thank you for your time and effort. Really needed to rant and let these negative emotions out.

#the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou spoilers #tlou #tlou2 #tlou joel #tlou ellie #my rants #ellie #joel miller #joel

[missvalerietanner]

The Last of Us - Part II

Completion time: 24 hrs. 48 mins.

After lots of reflection on the story and reading a lot of other people’s takes on the game as a whole, here’s my two cents:

The #1 feeling I had at the end of TLOU2 was relief.

And I’m SO surprised I don’t see more people saying they felt this way. 

After almost 25 hours of emotional turmoil and a lot of tears and rage and disgust, I felt as weary and drained as Ellie. I was ready for it to be over. No matter the outcome, I wanted an ending. I wanted everything to stop.

When we’re first placed in Abby’s shoes, I knew it was leading no where good. And when Abby starts saying she’s looking for “him,” I know the “him” is Joel, no question. Then Tommy and Joel stroll into that room, the Wolves close the door behind them. Joel says his name. Everyone sits up a little bit straighter, and the camera widens to show Abby holding a shotgun. 

I jumped when she fired the shotgun, and I was instantly in tears, just chanting out loud, “Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him.” The tears slowed; then we pan down to Joel’s grave, and I lost it again. 

From that point on, I wanted Abby to die. I wanted revenge as badly as Ellie. But as the story crawled onward, Dina almost dying, struggling to catch up to Tommy, Owen and Mel’s deaths, Jesse’s death, the looming threat of Tommy’s death, I started thinking, “Maybe this has gone too far.”

Then we get placed in Abby’s shoes again. That was a real struggle for me. I didn’t want to play as Abby. I didn’t care about her (and after finishing the game, I still don’t care about her or her loss or any of her friends). Honestly, Mel was the only one I really felt anything for, and that was mainly because Owen was a total piece of shit, clearly didn’t want the baby, and was willing to run off and leave her and the baby behind. Otherwise, her death didn’t really shake me ‘cause ultimately, I still didn’t care that much about her fate.

Then we have to play as Abby and attack Ellie. Excuse me, Naughty Dog, but wtf? Also: I did resist fighting Ellie at first, but she legit kicked my ass a LOT. But the conflict ends, Tommy’s bleeding out in the main hall with an arrow to the knee and Dina’s got a knife to her throat, and all I’m thinking is, “Tommy has to live. We can’t lose him too. And Dina has GOT to live ‘cause we (Ellie) dragged her down with us.”

Then we cut to the farm, and I think this is the end, the game’s over. But no. Ellie’s starving herself, suffering from PTSD, and having flashbacks and horrible nightmares. Then Tommy shows up just to be a dick.

1. That scene with Tommy felt really out of character. I was even yelling at screen: “Don’t do that, Tommy. Don’t you put that off on Ellie. She’s just a fucking kid.” But I think Tommy does what he does, placing the need to “finish it” at Ellie’s feet because he’s mad at himself for not being able to finish it. Maybe he even blames himself for not fighting Joel harder and being the one to take Ellie to the Fireflies in the first game. If Tommy was the one to deliver her to Saint Mary’s, I think he would have left her there. He would have let the cure be made. And I think that is part of his anger here. Even though he told Joel he would’ve done the same, I don’t believe him.

2. Dina became my absolute favorite character when she passed JJ to Ellie and stormed onto the porch to get in Tommy’s face like an absolute perfect wife should. I was so proud of her. You go, Dina!

Side Note: I adored Yara and Lev. Their whole story is tragic, and huge shout out to Yara, Ms. MVP, for killing Isaac ‘cause damn, he needed to go. He was a sick fuck. The Apartments? Housing and torturing Seraphites like that? Yikes, and the WLF acts shocked when their kind is being strung up and disemboweled. Yara’s death was almost as horrible as Joel’s; it certainly was more violent, but damn, she was a fighter. It sucked she had to go through all the pain of losing half her arm just to be gunned down, but Lev is an absolute treasure. I am so proud of him.

By the time we make it to Santa Barbara, I honestly didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care if Abby died. I didn’t see the point in it any longer, and much like Ellie, I was just tired and drained and emotionally empty. I had nothing left. 

So we start in Santa Barbara as Abby. I still don’t care about her at this point, but the radio call to the Fireflies? Honestly, I’d love to make it to Catalina Island and see what they’re up to. I would absolutely play DLC of Abby and Lev making it to that island and meeting the Fireflies. That radio call was the first moment in TLOU2 that I felt any kind of hope. 

Then the Rattlers appear. For maybe half of the game, I thought the story would turn and have Ellie and Abby working together. When the Rattlers came in, I thought, “This is is. Abby got taken, so now as Ellie, we have to save her.”

Eh, I was half right.

So we fight through Santa Barbara. We cut through the Rattlers, as mentally fucked as they were, and reach the end. We finally confront Abby after months of traveling to Seattle for 3 blood-filled days, then two years of some kind of peace on the farm, and now weeks of traveling to Santa Barbara.

Again, by this point, I was so tired, so ready for the game to end, I didn’t care. We find Abby as tired and beaten down as Ellie. She saves Lev, and we walk together to the beach. I thought that would be the end. But Ellie felt guilty; she felt she owed something more to Joel, something conclusive. So she pushes the fight, loses her fingers, and as she’s drowning Abby, she finally lets herself cry. She finally pushes through the wall of anger and cries, openly and honestly. 

I cried right along with Ellie, and I really felt nothing when she let Abby breathe. Her and Lev are gone, and there’s Ellie, all alone. 

I was relieved. There was an ending. It wasn’t a warm hug from Dina back at the farm. It wasn’t a huge party in Jackson with everyone smiling and laughing, but there was happiness in the ending.

Abby moved on; she found peace and a new family in Lev, and I know she’s on her way to Catalina Island. And Ellie set off to Jackson to makeup with Dina and try to heal her relationship with Tommy. And I hope when Ellie sees Tommy and he asks what happened, if Abby’s dead, I hope Ellie looks him square in the eye and says, “It’s finished.”

‘Cause it is. It’s over.

Abby lost herself and refound herself in her mission to save Yara and Lev, letting her life hold some value again ‘cause she had been so blinded by her rage and her need for revenge for too long. She probably hatred herself for what she had done, even though she felt compelled to do it. (Look at the way she talks about herself to Mel early on, “What kind of a person could do something like that?”) She thinks herself a monster, but by saving the lives of those kids, she balances the bad with the good and forgives herself. 

And Ellie stopped just shy of losing herself ‘cause she thought her life had no meaning because of Joel’s choice to save her form Saint Mary’s. But she let go of her anger and her hatred. She forgave Abby at the last moment ‘cause she knew she had already found her new purpose in Dina and in JJ and in her life in Jackson as a whole. And her anger was misguided the whole time anyway. She hated Joel for taking away her choice. She hated Abby for taking away her chance to find forgiveness and time to heal with Joel. But in the end, as others have pointed out, that’s all she really wanted: to forgive Joel. And in the end, she could do it when she finally let herself truly grieve losing him. 

Whew.

I really don’t know what to think of this game as a whole. On one hand, it’s hard to argue that is isn’t a masterpiece in all aspects: sound design, animation, visuals, controls/gameplay, acting, and of course storytelling. But on the other hand, this is the most depressing shit I have ever played, and I wouldn’t recommend that anyone play it. It is 25 - 30 hrs of pain that I don’t think I’ll ever revisit.

I don’t even feel any compulsion to edit GMVs or even think about the game, really (which is odd for me). The whole experience was so draining for me, emotionally and mentally, that I just feel exhausted by the very thought of the game.

And throughout the experience, I found myself comparing TLOU2 to Bioshock (beginning with Joel’s death, since he literally got Andrew Ryan’d via that golf club). And since Bioshock 1 & 2 both deal so closely with similar themes as TLOU2, I really feel like those games did a better job in all aspects; they found a better balance between the gruesome cruelty, the themes of loss and found family, and ultimately offered better resolutions to their stories with small glimmers of hope.

Sure, the fantastical side of Bioshock (splicers, plasmids, etc.) offer some relief from the intense brutality, but I can and have played B2 countless times. I still tear up at the end when Subject Delta dies, but your choices, good or bad, are reflected so immediately in Eleanor, that I really felt more connected to their struggles than to TLOU2. Despite all the pain and heartache, B2 inspires hope. TLOU2 just left me empty. For that reason, I don’t feel it was a great game. A brilliant movie, yes, and a compelling and gut-wrenching story, but not a great gaming experience.

It’s not the TLOU2 I would’ve wanted, but that’s obvious. I do feel that it is an honest game. It is the best answer to the first game because Joel’s choice at the end had to mean something. We needed to see the consequence of such a monumental decision. 

Mostly, I’m just glad it’s over.

So there’s my recount, as messy and wild as it is. 

... last thing, the birthday flashback to the museum was my absolute favorite segment. Joel is such a wonderful father, and when Ellie wanders into the space side of the museum and loses her shit, and Joel goes, “You don’t like this? Ok, we can go.” I started crying immediately. Then she says the fact about fruit flies being the first animals in space, and Joel is all, “You’re smart, kid.” I became a blubbering mess. 

And when they’re in the shuttle and he gives her the Apollo 11 launch tape and the camera hovers on her face just like it did in Left Behind when Riley acted out the Angel Knives segment: I cried through the entire scene. Joel is the best fucking father; he is a prize, and I miss him terribly. 

#tlou2 #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part II #opinion

[andiesmu-archive]

CAN’T BE PERFECT ➝ GRANBINDDIE

TAGGING ➝ Grant McCarthy, Robin St. James, Addie Morgan.

LOCATION ➝ Grant & Robin’s house.

TIME FRAME ➝ 4/21, evening.

WARNINGS ➝ None.

NOTES ➝ Addie goes to Grants to try and talk Robin up to Grant’s parents. It doesn’t really work. 

ADDIE MORGAN

Addie was not really the most eloquent person, and she certainly wasn't someone that most parents loved, but for some reason Grant's parents had always taken well to her, and she cared enough about him to try and help him out when they seemed to not be showing the same kind of affection for his fiancée. She'd been there enough times that she didn't feel the need ring the doorbell, and instead let herself in. It was Caroline she stumbled on first, and grinned at her, nudging her with her elbow, "What's up, kid?" she asked, "Where is everyone?" Caroline directed Addie to the kitchen and she pulled on her best sweet smile as she entered the room. "Martha, Grant." She greeted to the two elder McCarthys as she made eye contact, "Good to see you. Grant told me you were visiting, I had to come and say hi." She grinned and then made her way to the shorter blonde in the room and wrapped her arms around her, giving her a hug. She knew that hugging Robin wasn't really something she'd normally do, Addie didn't even like giving hugs, but she'd do just about anything for Grant, and that meant putting on a show for his parents.

ROBIN ST. JAMES

This whole week had been exhausting. It was fortunate that Robin was a nice person, and that it took a lot to make her lose her temper, because there were plenty of points throughout the week that she could’ve lost it with Grant’s parents. They didn’t have to like her, but they also didn’t have to be so obvious about it. Honestly, she hated thinking it, but she was kind of excited for them to leave, and as she heard the door opening, she was really hoping it’d be one of Grant’s siblings coming to take them. Or at least to take their attention. It surprised her some to see Addie, especially without Regan by her side, but Robin flashed her a bright smile once she’d walked into the room, surprised once more by the hug. “Hi!” She grinned, happily hugging the taller girl back. It wasn’t like they were all that close, but Robin could treat anyone as if they were her best friend, so she was pretty pleased. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining,” she quickly added, stepping back to lean against the counter. “It’s a nice surprise. Is everything okay? Or are you just here to see Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy? I think you came just in time. They’re leaving, um…” She turned to Grant, the look in her eyes hopeful. “When are they leaving again? Tomorrow?”

GRANT MCCARTHY

Grant felt bad for forcing Robin to deal with his parents. He wanted them to meet her. They were getting married. She was going to have his baby. They had to meet her, but they had been absolutely horrible to her over the past week. So much so, that he was just ready for them to leave. His parents didn’t really like anyone he had ever brought around. Except Addie. But that was because she was a firefighter that liked women and wasn’t trying to steal all of their son’s money. But Robin wasn’t try to do that either, but for some reason, they didn’t believe her. Either way, Grant was relieved to see Addie and super happy that she was laying it on pretty thick with that hug she greeted Robin with. “They’re leaving on Tuesday, babe,” he groaned, trying not to show just how annoyed he was with the fact they still had a few more days with those people. “We’re so happy to see you,” Grant’s mom said in Addie’s direction, causing him to roll his eyes a little. “What do you think about the new addition coming into the family? Did you tell him he was crazy?” Grant sighed as he stepped forward to drape his arm over his fiancée to offer her some comfort. “I warned you, Addie,” he shrugged, shaking his head.

ADDIE MORGAN

“Everything is fine,” Addie said cheerily to Robin. Truthfully she was dealing with a little bit of emotional turmoil of her own, but this was a welcome distraction, and it meant hopefully helping her best friend out. “I just wanted to say hi, and to see you two. It’s been too long since I got some girl time with you,” she beamed at Robin. Though Addie was sure her idea of girl time was vastly different than the colloquial meaning, she figured it sounded like they were the best of friends. Addie really did like Robin, she didn’t know her well, but she didn’t have any dislike for her, it was just hard to get to know her considering the tense relationship between her and Regan. Turning her attention back to Grant’s parents, Addie smiled again. “Crazy lucky.” She beamed without missing a beer. “I mean, Robin is going to be a great mom, I’m so excited for them. Did you guys know that I’m engaged to Robin’s sister?” She asked, holding her hand out for them to see the ring. “Talk about a family of great genes. That baby is going to be so lucky to have two parents who care so much about him or her. Plus, the St. James girls, are all so strong and independent, which means if they have a daughter she’ll probably be a total bad ass, kind of like her aunt Addie.” She was probably laying it on pretty thick, but she didn’t care. Robin and Grant didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that. Telling him he was crazy for getting Robin pregnant made her blood boil a bit and just encouraged her to climb so far up Robin’s she’d make flowers sprout out of her ears. Which probably wasn’t even that difficult to do considering it was Robin.

ROBIN ST. JAMES

As far as Robin was aware, she and Addie had never really spent any ‘girl time’ together. Other than their brief conversation at she and her sisters’ birthday party, although she wasn’t sure if that counted or not. She tried to hide her confusion as she looked up at the other woman. “That sounds awesome,” she smiled enthusiastically, nodding her head. Something was off here, Robin couldn’t quite figure it out, but she was trying not to question it. It was probably just Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy’s presence throwing her off still. They brought bad energy. “Right, Tuesday,” she nodded, turning to smile in his parents’ direction. “I knew that. I guess I’m just getting my days mixed up. Baby brain, you know?” His mother quirked a brow. “Have we outstayed our welcome?” Robin quickly shook her head. “Oh, no, definitely not. We love having you here, right, babe?” She edged a little closer to Grant, almost retreating into his side as she brought a hand up to clasp the one he’d hung over her shoulder. She wanted the focus to shift to Addie, since they seemed to actually like her. They were evidently more interested in Addie, too. Not that Robin minded. “Oh? And what does the other one do?” Mrs. McCarthy asked, a subtly smug look in her eyes, “Flowers also?” Robin chewed on the inside of her cheek, staying quiet, though it stung to hear them call Grant crazy because of their situation. She managed to bite her tongue, adamant that she wasn’t going to argue with them again, but squeezed onto Grant’s hand for reassurance.

GRANT MCCARTHY

Grant knew he was lucky to have a friend like Addie. He didn’t really have a lot of friends, but the people he did pick to stick around in his life were all loyal and great, just like Addie was. She didn’t have to show up and talk up Robin just because he’d asked her to, but she was his ride or die, so it made sense. She would do anything for him, the same way he would do absolutely anything for her as well. He couldn’t help but smile as his friend defended him. He didn’t know if it would go too far with his parents. Robin had tried as well, but it was still appreciated. “Robin likes having you guys here. I wish you’d show my fiancée some respect,” Grant offered up honestly. He was done playing this game. This game where he pretended not to hate everything his parents said about Robin. He’d warned them enough that he wasn’t going to stand for it. He raised the hand that Robin had intertwined with his and brought it to his lips, placing a small kiss on it. “Just like Robin, Regan owns her own business. Real estate, right?” He questioned in Addie’s direction. He wasn’t completely sure, but he thought he was right. “I’m sure you and the sister have known each other longer than a few months, right?” Grant’s dad questioned, shooting a glare in his son’s direction. Grant shrugged his shoulders. Still not really giving a crap. “Best few months of my life.”

ADDIE MORGAN

Addie had never been the most reserved, but she knew that flying off the handle at the sheer rudeness his parents were showing would be a bad idea. She’d dealt with a shitty mother her whole life, but she’d never had to bite her tongue and stop herself from telling her she was a shit head. “Real estate, that’s right.” Addie nodded. “And their other sister runs a non profit, and one is a hotel CEO. They’re all very successful.” Addie said, trying to guide the subject back in another direction. “Besides, have you seen Robin’s arrangement? She’s like an artists. It’s really incredible. Her assistant is dating another good friend of mine, she tells me all the time how in awe she is of the things Robin creates. Their whole family was raised to work hard, I really envy that. Having parents who are so supportive and loving. That’s another reason she’ll be such a good mom, she knows that a good mom looks like, that’s not something many of us can say.” She said, her eyes flashing to Grant’s mom as she did. Her happy facade was slipping a bit, it seemed, and she couldn’t help but throw something of a verbal jab, though subtle as it was. “I’ve known the family for about 9 years now,” she said happily, she knew the question from his dad was another dig at their relationship, “But I guess it happens differently for everyone, right?” She said, her smiling turning to Grant now. “I mean, look at Jess and Dom, they only knew each other a few months when they got married, didn’t they? And now it’s been ten years.” She really didn’t know Dom and Jess that well, but hoped that an example of another couple that rushed into things couldn’t hurt their argument. “Robin and I have been friends for a bit, not as long as Grant and I, but a bit. And they’re so happy together, who would have thought anyone could get this grump to smile more than once a month, right?” She laughed, nudging him gently, “Can’t you just tell how happy she makes him. She’s like a ray of sunshine.”

ROBIN ST. JAMES

It hadn’t taken too much to have Robin’s happy, chipper guard slipping when Grant’s parents had first arrived, and she could feel it quickly doing the same now. Because not only were they now insulting her, they seemed to somehow be insulting her sisters, too. She sucked in her cheeks, forcing herself not to say anything, and simply listened to Addie talking about them, the realization that this had been set up finally sinking in. Her free hand reached into Grant’s pocket, with Robin pulling out his phone and opening up his texts with Addie. Now it made sense. “Um, excuse me?” His mom frowned. “Did you just look at his phone? That’s private.” Robin chewed on her lip as she slipped the phone back where she’d gotten it. “Grant and I don’t have secrets from each other. He knows my passcode, I know his. And I was just checking the time.” She lied, her tone much less cheerful than it’d started out. She didn’t want to let them stress her out to the point of a breakdown again, but she was definitely growing less and less patient with them. Especially his mom. Although she smiled in Addie’s direction, appreciative of the help, she couldn’t bite her tongue anymore. Not hearing his father jabbing at the length of their relationship. Or referring to Regan as ‘the sister’. “No, they can’t tell that,” Robin laughed almost sarcastically, making eye contact with his mother. “And even if they could, even if they could see how ridiculously happy we make each other, they’d choose to ignore it, because they’ve already made up their minds about me. Isn’t that right, Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy?” She clenched her jaw, feeling herself growing heated.

GRANT MCCARTHY

This was all becoming too much for him. Listening to his parents jab at the love of his life, while his best friend tried her hardest to fight them off. He loved Addie, he really did, but her efforts were getting them nowhere. His parents were crazy people. He glanced over at his mother as Addie snarked at her, trying not to chuckle to himself at his best friend’s comment. It was funny and his mother deserved it. He shook his head when Addie mentioned Jess and Dom, trying to signal her to stop. Those were two people his parents also didn’t like. Especially Jessica. “You mean Caroline’s mother and the other man she calls Dad?” Grant wanted to react to his dad’s words, but suddenly he felt Robin’s hand in his pocket and she was looking at his phone. It didn’t take much for him to realize she had figured out their plan. It had been a nice try, but Addie’s hadn’t helped as much as he’d hoped with his shitty parents. He nodded his head as Robin spoke. Everything she was saying was the truth. His parents didn’t care what anyone said. Their minds were made up. “I’m going to get you guys a hotel room. I can’t force Paige, Reese, or Miles to take you in and I can’t let you stay here. She’s pregnant and you keep disrespecting her. This is her house,” he groaned, turning to look at his best friend. “Thank you, Addie. For trying. But they’re not worth it.”

ADDIE MORGAN

Addie didn’t accept defeat very easily, but she also wasn’t going to keep pushing when Grant and Robin seemed to have already thrown in the towel. “Well, I’m sure Roman could help you out with a hotel room, though I’d probably not mention the reason you need it, she might stick them in that room that had the bed bug infestation last week.” Addie said with a grin and then shrugged. She turned back to them one final time and frowned. “You know, Grant has always done everything you’ve ever wanted from him, and who he spends his life with is his choice. Whatever your problem is doesn’t change that, and like it or not she is pregnant, which means that she’s going to be a part of your lives forever now. If you want to be miserable about it, there’s nothing that any of us can do to stop you, but you just look like a couple of kids throwing temper tantrums.” She said, and then rolled her eyes, whatever standing she had with his parents was probably gone now. “Robin, I’m sorry you have to deal with this,” she said, giving the blonde another hug, though it was more genuine this time. “And I can’t wait to meet my future niece of nephew.” She smiled at her, then turned to Grant. “Sorry man, I’ll see you later. Good luck.” She shrugged again before turning to walk back to the front door so she could get back home to her own fiancée.

#elliemu #mutyler #addie ftf: 023 #addie ftf: grant #addie ftf: robin #addie ftf: all #addie: grant #addie: robin

[msachsen]

As the elevator doors closed...

...neither of them could keep their hands from each other any longer. Practically colliding, Nick’s hands frantically caressed every part of Jess’ body he could find, his lips roaming freely over her neck and earlobes, her closed eyelids, cheeks and nose. The heat of his actions made Jess weak in the knees, and had it not been for Nick’s strong arms holding her tight, she would probably have melted into a pool of emotions right there on the elevator floor.

Firmly molded in each another’s bodies, Jess couldn’t help but smile on the inside when she felt very clearly against her thigh just how aroused Nick was, matching her own feelings perfectly. As Nick suddenly slowed down the pace, Jess opened her eyes, and caught Nick giving her such an intense gaze, she was convinced he could see the bottom of her very soul. It was so strong she had to look down, but Nick’s hand gently tipped her cheek up and continued looking at her. In his eyes she saw everything she’d dreamed of the last couple of years, but hadn’t dared hoping for: the tenderness, the passion, and arousal. She also saw pain, fear and despair flicker in his eyes before her, but quickly shifted to a look of firm determination. They stood like that, lost in each other’s eyes, for what seemed like hours, until Nick slowly leaned his forehead against hers. 

“I love you SO much, Jess. And I don’t want to go through another second of my life without you.” His gaze met hers again. “These past couple of weeks without you have been horrible and I can’t believe I was so stupid to think that Reagan and I even had…” He was silenced by Jess who gently put a finger to his lips. “I love you too Nick-Nack. But let’s not talk about it. I’m done thinking and talking. I want you to show meee—IIIHHHH!!!” She gasped in surprise as Nick literally swept her off her feet, into his arms and hurriedly carried her out of the elevator.

Entering his room, Nick put her down on the bed like she was the most precious thing in the world. Their eyes met for a second, and just like that, Nick’s hands and lips and tongue were all over her body again, Jess ripping and tugging at his clothes, trying to rid herself of her jacket, her dress and tights at the same time. Dizzy with desire, she felt Nick’s hot breath in her ear making her whimper impatiently.

“Ma…e…Jess”. She couldn’t make out what he was saying but she didn’t care, she wanted him so bad HERE and NOW. “..ry…e…Jess”. What was he trying to say? “I thought we agreed to save the talking for later, Miller”, Jess mumbled between the feather light kisses Nick was trailing down her neck. He kissed his way to her nose and then came to a halt. Jess opened her mouth to protest against the sudden stop but was interrupted by his now steady voice. “Marry me, Jess”.

Stunned and completely taken off guard by his words, she felt her eyes filling up with tears. “I’ve known since the minute I met you, that you’re the one. And it used to scared the hell out of me. But I’m not afraid anymore, Jess. You’re it for me. I want to marry you, I want to put a baby in you and I want to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life. So if you’ll have me I would be the luck…” Jess mouth came crashing on his with such force he bit his lip. “Can I take that as a yes…?” he asked, smiling shyly, when their lips finally parted. Jess was practically beaming with happiness as tears – of joy this time – continued to fall down her cheeks. “You’re damn right it’s a yes Miller.”

- END -

Just a little something I had to get out of my system :-). 

#new girl #short fic #ness #nick and jess

[manycoloureddays]

Oh wait I have another one!!! Hogwarts AU where Finn is a slytherin???

Finn was happy being a Slytherin. He was happy to be known for his ambition,and for that particular kind of clannishness Slytherins cultivated. He had peoplewho were his people, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that they were moreimportant to him than the war that seemed to be brewing outside the castlewalls. At least he wasn’t ashamed to admit it in front of people who weren’tDirector Organa, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, who hadseemed quite convinced of the need for all magical kind to band togetheragainst the forces of darkness when he had met her over summer. Intenselyconvinced. But green and silver suited him, and he had never wished the Hat hadSorted him differently. He just sometimes wishes his housemates were… more openminded. And less willing to say horrible things about people just because theywere Gryffindors. Right now was one of those times.

“Then there’s that weirdo, whatshername? Rey something or other. Does sheeven have a last name?” Finn clenched his fists. He had promised ProfessorMothma at the end of last year that he wouldn’t end up in detention in thefirst week of term.

“Oh yeah, did you see her stuffing food into her mouth at dinner? Like shewas raised by werewolves.” The snickers that follow cover the sound of Finn’sknuckles cracking. He shoved out from the desk and hurried toward the door,ignoring the calls of “hey Finn, running off instead of defending yourgirlfriend’s honour?”

He took a few seconds to breathe deeply, getting his heartrate to shudderslow into something more manageable, before he headed up the stairs to thedungeon corridor, and up towards the Quidditch pitch. Training hadn’t startedyet, for any of the teams – it was only the 2nd of September afterall – but if he had any money to be he would put it all on Poe or Rey, or bothof them, being down there. Rey didn’t get to fly over summer, unless shevisited Poe or Jessika, living as she did in a Muggle orphanage. And Poe wasalways happy to run drills with her before the start of the Quidditch seasonmade them official enemies.

When he made it to the stands they were two blurs racing each other aroundthe pitch. Finn watched as they soared up higher and higher, looping andwhirling and diving so close to the ground he was worried they’d crash. Hesettled himself in to wait, pulling out his wand to practice the charm they’dlearned that morning.

Fifteen minutes later the Poe shaped blur slowed down enough that Finn couldmake out his grin as he sped toward the stand.

“Hey buddy,” Poe grinned, dropping his broom and pulling Finn into a hug. Hebarely managed to hold himself back from melting into Poe’s hug completely. Itwas getting to be a bit of a problem, especially after spending all of Augustwith the Damerons. Poe was very tactile. “How was your first day back?”

“You saw him this morning in Charms, and then after lunch in Defence,” Reysnorted, flying down to join them.

“And that was before he had finished his first day back, wasn’t it?” Poeshot back.

“Not bad,” Finn answered, before either of them got any ideas about flirt-fighting.He smiled at Rey and she cuffed him around the ear before launching herselfinto his arms. Where Poe’s hugs were warm and a little too comfortable, Rey’swere bone crushing in the best kind of way.

“Then why,” she asked his collar bone, “do you look like someone put lemonin your pumpkin juice?”

He sighed, considered lying, or deflecting, and decided that they would usetheir collective powers of persuasion to pull the answers from him anyway so hemay as well hold on to some dignity.

“Frustrating conversation in the common room.”

Their faces harden in understanding.

“Just come and live in my room,” Poe offers, not for the first time. He hasbeen operating under the illusion that the other boys in his dorm would behappy to step over and around Finn for the next two years. Finn has been unableto convince him it would be inconvenient.

“If you stupid common room wasn’t underground you could leave a broom underthe window like we do, for a dramatic exit.” Rey’s smile is full of mischief.

“I wish I’d been there to see Organa’s face! I’m sure he was gearing up fora fight and then wham, opponent outthe window!” Finn crowed. It was one of his greatest regrets, missing thatparticular escapade.

“A truly beautiful moment in Hogwarts’ history,” Poe says, wiping awayimaginary tears. “I’m so proud.”

Reye ducks her head, pleased but unable to deal with people lavishing praiseon her. Finn can relate.

“Did you hear he’s asking people to call him Kylo Ren now?”

Poe’s face darkens. There were a lot of conversations about the First Orderover summer. Kes and Shara had Leia and her husband, war hero Han Solo – and thathad been such a cool moment, and Finn had been the complete opposite of cool –over for dinner quite a few times. And each time they had kindly asked the boysto clear the table, and go watch a movie or hang out in Poe’s room afterdinner, so that the adults could talk. Behind closed doors discussion stillmade Finn nervous, and they had frustrated Poe no end.

“Yeah, we heard. But if that greasy haired git thinks I’m going to call himanything other than Ben Organa he has another thought coming. I’ve known himsince he spent summer afternoons trying to teach worms how to become pictures,I’m not scared of him. And doesn’t he remember what happened the last timesomeone changed their name and started practicing the Dark Arts?”

That was another conversation they’d had a lot, holed up in Poe’s room. Poe,red in the face with emotion, and Finn trying to find the words to make itbetter. Or at least okay. Or even to just find a plan, something they could do, because they would both feel so muchbetter with something to do.

“Okay,” Finn said, after the silence they’ve lapsed into starts to feel lessangry and more fearful. “Okay, topic change. How were your days?”

They talk about the sudden flood of new coursework on the first day(annoying, even worse than last year, but ultimately most likely for the best),Professor Rook’s gaunt face and emphasis on learning your history so you don’trepeat the past in their DADA lesson (pointed and necessary and terrifyingconsidering the role he played in the last war), and the possibility that Jessand Rose might have started dating over the break (adorable and perfect and Poewas going to kick Pava’s butt if she didn’t tell him soon). They talked untilte sun had well and truly set, and Rey’s stomach started to audibly rumble.

“We should head in,” Poe said regretfully. Finn nodded. It was true, he justwished it wasn’t.

“We should stop by the kitchen, get some food,” he suggested. He just wantedto stay with them.

“If it gets too bad, you’ll let us know?” Rey gripped his hand. She didn’tlet go either, just started walking down the row of seats towards the exit.When the walkway widened Poe slipped into step with them and took Finn’s otherhand.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.” He took a deep breath. “It’s not so bad, really. Justa few idiots talking louder than the rest of us and destroying the tranquillityof an underwater common room. Sometimes I wish the three of us were in the samehouse.”

Both of them squeezed his hands.

“We’ll get a place together when we finish school,” Poe says, like its easyand a done deal, and not something that makes Finn’s heart race and Rey griphis fingers so tight they start to protest. Neither of them know how to handlePoe’s casual and unshakeable belief that the three of them will be this importantto each other forever. “And until then we have loads of shared spaced in thecastle.”

“You should wow them speechless with all the wandless magic you’ve beenpracticing,” Rey adds. Both of them murmur lumos,conjuring balls of light in their joined hands to illuminate the path backacross the grounds.

“Shit, that’s never not going to be cool.” Poe’s voice was quiet. He was silhouettedagainst the castle, lit by Rey and Finn’s joined magic, and looking at themlike they were the most magical things in this strange and magical world theylived in, and particularly handsome. It was becoming more and more difficultnot to kiss him, and a quick glance at Rey confirmed that she was thinking muchthe same. And maybe, Finn thought, maybe this year they would. Holding handswith both of them – his friends, his family – it was starting to look more andmore possible. Inevitable.

#broromini #star wars #finn x poe x rey #madeleine writes #this was enormous fun to write and i may have to dip in and out of this 'verse more #because !!!! i have so many headcanons now!!!! #thanks!!!!!

[solivar]

WIP: Ghost Stories On Route 66

aka the one where Hanzo Shimada is an expatriate student of the Fine Arts, attending college in what he assumes to be a reasonably sedate corner of the American southwest. Jesse McCree is an occasionally leather-clad NPS ranger whose duties extend somewhat further than shooing lost tourists back onto the clearly marked hiking trails. Something weird is going on in the desert south of Santa Fe and their lives unexpectedly come together in the middle of it.

Now featuring 100% more Gabriel Reyes, terrifying smoke monster mother hen, subtle declarations of mutual affection, and Hanzo having a terrible, horrible no good very bad sequence of days.

Hanzo turned his face to the cloudy, light-pollution washed sky and closed his eyes as the evening breeze washed over him. It was perceptibly warmer in the city than it was out on the high desert, but still cleaner than the air of nearly any other city he’d ever breathed, and he drew it deep into his lungs, once, twice, thrice. On the third, he expelled it with a silent prayer for the intercession of his ancestors, preferably all of them, hopefully at least Grandmother Hanako, who until the hour of her passage from the world possessed the ability to defuse any form of about-to-explode much younger Genji right up the point of detonation. It was that sweet and gentle nature he needed right now, the precise words necessary to calm and soothe, the iron-spined powers of almost courtly decorum necessary to avoid having a screaming argument with his little brother on the doorstep in front of who knew how many neighbors and/or housemates. Because that would, of course, be the absolute perfect way to end a day that was already sprawled out insouciantly on its side giving reality an assortment of rude gestures.

He turned to face Genji and found him standing in a physically contorted state trapped almost precisely between flailing limbs-akimbo outrage and fists planted on his hips primarily to avoid strangling anyone outrage. The result was more than vaguely disturbing to the human eye and seemed to involve far more joints that he actually possessed. His hair, recently re-dyed the nature-insulting shades of acidic green he favored, looked as though he had spent a considerable quantity of time alternately tugging at it in a transport of some strong emotion or smoothing it back down in an effort to avoid broadcasting said transport to any observers without any particular success. His face was a mask of mutually contradictory emotions, his eyes were bloodshot in a manner that strongly suggested a lack of sleep instead of chemical mood enhancement, and his eyelashes were stuck together in the sort of spiky clumps they developed only when he’d been crying and he was still crying, there were tears in his eyes, and Hanzo dropped his bag and threw his arms around his wonderful, terrible little brother and embraced him tightly. “Shhh. It’s all right.”

Genji’s return embrace seriously compressed his ribcage and nearly lifted him off the ground with the force of it, his brother’s voice ragged in his ears. “You’re alive you’re alive where have you been I’ve been so worried I filed a missing persons report --”

“Genji,” Hanzo wheezed perhaps a bit more dramatically than was strictly necessary even given the circumstances, “I need air. And a missing persons report? You called the police?”

His brother let go only enough to relocate the force of his grip from ribcage to shoulders and Hanzo was absolutely certain he was going to have a couple Genji-hand-shaped-bruises in the morning. Some of the half-crazed intensity of emotion had bled from his face but his eyes remained bright -- irridescently glittering lit-from-within green as well as tears, an altogether dangerous sign. “Four days, Hanzo. You have been gone for four days. I was expecting you home Saturday at the latest. So I ask again: where have you been? And also: who was that and how badly am I going to have to maim him?”

My car broke down in the desert, something nearly ate my soul, he’s an NPS ranger too beautiful for this world please do not kill him. It was on the tip of his tongue to say it, driven by the force of his brother’s fear, and the only thing that kept the words behind his teeth was the knowledge that there were all exactly the wrong thing to say, particularly the soul-eating bit, which he was completely certain Genji would not accept with anything resembling serenity no matter how many mind-altering substances he might be consuming at any given time. Neither was he going to let it go, the grip on his shoulders tightening, eyes narrowing a dangerous fraction, and Hanzo reached for the first semi-reasonable explanation to come to mind and blurted out, “I -- I -- was enjoying what I was doing and lost track of time!”

The look that took up residence on Genji’s face was equal parts I cannot believe you just said that, aniki and WHAT mixed liberally with oh fucking no you didn’t. “Hanzo. Discovering you have a great deal in common with one of your classmates on the first day of the semester and spending two hours aimlessly wandering the quad talking is enjoying what you were doing and losing track of time. Spending an hour contemplating the menu at Starbucks while trying to work up the nerve to make a pass at the hot new barista is enjoying what you were doing and losing track of time. Driving out into the desert and disappearing for four fucking days? That is something else entirely and I’m vaguely insulted you even tried to pull that on me and for fuck’s sake I was about to call home and tell mother to start watching for ransom demands.”

“Genji, I was in no danger.” Except for the point where YOUR SOUL was almost eaten, the rational voice of rationality remarked, dryly, apparently in league with the self-destructive desire to tell his brother everything. “My car broke down -- I walked to one of the ranger stations. I stayed with him a few days until the arrangements to retrieve my disabled vehicle could be made, and then he brought me home.”

“And you enjoyed that.” And there was the world’s most sarcastic human making himself known.

Hanzo shrugged slightly, Genji’s grip on his shoulders loosening enough that the gesture mostly dislodged it. “Not the breaking down and walking through the freezing desert in the middle of the night, no. Everything else? I managed to get quite a bit of work done and the ranger was excellently helpful and completely professional the entire time we were together.” He bent, picked up his bag, and schooled his face into what he hoped was a serenely competent mask sufficient to cover a gigantic sack of barely believable lies. “I’m sorry I frightened you -- I lost cellular service and -- “

“She couldn’t find you, Hanzo.” Genji whispered, fiercely. “I asked her to find you and she said you were gone, you were nowhere, I thought the police would find you lying dead somewhere -- “

“I would not do that to you.” Hanzo snapped a glare at him, equally fierce.

“I know that.” Genji did not quite reach for him again, though it was a near thing. “And the world continues to be graciously oversupplied with other ways for everyone to leave it.”

“I do not know why she couldn’t find me.” Hanzo could not meet his brother’s eyes and speak that lie at the same time, instead opting to step past him toward the door, head down as though watching his step. “As I said: I was perfectly safe. It has, however, been a very long few days and I want nothing more than my own bed. You cannot imagine how uncomfortable ranger station cots are until you’ve had to sleep on one involuntarily.”

“Yes I can.” He could feel the weight of Genji’s stare laying between his shoulderblades like the tip of a knife. “I let Zen drag me up to that commune outside Angel Fire. I’m pretty sure their beds are Works Progress Administration surplus from the ‘40s. The nineteen-forties.”

Hanzo chuckled, politely, thumbed open the front door and was promptly bowled back onto the steps by the force of the charge that greeted him.

“You’re home!” Hana Song was, like his brother, a student in the tech end of video game design. Unlike him, she had absolutely no hesitation when it came to hitting him and so she did, and with a startling amount of force for someone that weighed perhaps a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve all been, you jerk, you lousy inconsiderate jackass, you -- “ She stopped, glared up at him, and yanked him inside. “Let’s not do this on the front stoop. Genji, are you coming?”

“Hana, let it go. He’s not dead and he apparently hasn’t been shacked up with persons unknown, either.” Genji stepped in and closed the door, casually deflecting the killing glare that Hanzo flung in his direction.

“Oh, so Person Unknown is free and clear then, hmm? Good, because from what I could see he was a stone fox. Where’d you find him?” Hana gave him a quick hug in apology, gears shifting as quickly as that, and snatched the object Ranger McCree had pressed into his hand on their parting. “Oh -- oh holy crap. He’s a park ranger? Are you serious?”

Hanzo snatched the object -- a card -- back and physically resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Car broke down, he rescued me, drove me home, perfect gentleman, I would like to go to bed now.”

“Oh, it’s perfect gentleman and not completely professional when you talk to her about it?” Genji asked and now Hanzo found himself resisting the urge to spin hard enough to smack his wonderful, terrible asshole brother firmly in the gut with his bag. “There’s a not inconsiderable difference between those two things, brother.”

“No there isn’t.” Hanzo replied and, fuck it, introduced his bag to Genji’s midsection in a fashion not entirely unlike a hip-check. “In any case, yes, he is a real park ranger, he was extremely kind to me, I had not noticed his appearance, I am entirely sorry I worried you all, and now I am going to go upstairs, take a shower, send a number of groveling emails to my professors, and then go to bed. If that is acceptable to you two?”

“I think we should get Lu and Zen down here and make a family vote of it,” Hana crossed her arms over her chest but nonetheless stepped aside at his growl. “You haven’t heard the last of this, Hanzo Shimada. You, of all people, don’t get to go galavanting off for whole days at a time and then stroll back home without a reasonable explanation -- “

Hanzo leaned over the second story balustrade. “Genji does that literally all the time.”

“That’s Genji!” Hana shouted back. “You are the grounded and responsible Shimada sibling, and if you two are going to switch personalities you can’t do it at random, there needs to be at least two weeks written notice!”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” Hanzo shouted down from the third floor landing.

“Be sure you do!” Hana shouted back. “Seriously, are you going to call him back? Because if you don’t call him, I totally will. I want a look at that in broad daylight.”

“Good night, Hana.” Hanzo stepped into his room, closed the door, dropped his bag, took the pillow from his bed and screamed into it for five minutes because, sometimes, there was literally nothing else to do if he wished to retain even a modicum of sanity.

Then, because he was indeed the grounded and responsible Shimada sibling, he turned on his holo-terminal and wrote the requisite groveling email of woe and dismay that went into exquisitely embroidered detail about POS rental cars, wandering through the desert at night pursued by coyotes, and the almost total lack of cellular service out in the hinterlands beyond the city limits, which he then forwarded to the four professors whose classes he had involuntarily cut, checked the queue to make certain that the art history paper he had finished last week was still set to go out first thing in the morning and sat, staring, at the little white rectangle of plastic laminate Ranger McCree had pressed into his hand. Plain white bordered in vivid green (National Park Service/US Department of the Interior), the inverted arrowhead seal, his name and contact information (Jesse McCree, Education Liaison, Special Incident Command at Cerrillos National Monument, address, cellular code, email). The laminate coating caught the dim light of even his holoscreen and refracted it in a now-familiar geometric pattern, the card feeling warmer in his hand than could be accounted for even by a transfer of body heat and, without meaning to do so, he pressed it to his lips and slipped it into his underwear drawer, where he was reasonably certain Hana would be completely unwilling to go fishing should she come looking for it. He almost started a second email but acknowledged, if only to himself, that it was considerably beyond pathetic to write a man who had merely been doing his duty, even the outstandingly weird parts, particularly when he didn’t actually have anything to say. At least for the moment. He had a week-long course of medicine to take and he realized that he was, even more pathetically, hoping that whatever it was wouldn’t work so he’d have the excuse.

“You are an outstanding coward of the highest possible caliber,” He informed his reflection in the upstairs bathroom mirror as he stripped out of the borrowed sweats even as he acknowledged them as another good reason to contact the ranger again -- they were only borrowed, after all, he couldn’t keep the man’s clothes. “Hello, Ranger McCree, this is Hanzo Shimada, you know, the one whose soul you saved from being eaten? I would just like to meet in order to return your tee-shirt and sweatpants and would you possibly also like to have dinner? Perhaps coffee? I promise I will keep my housemates and brother as far from you as humanly possible and once this exchange is done we will never have to see one another again and could you be any worse at this, for the love of the gods, stop.”

“Hanzo?” The voice on the other side of the bathroom door belonged to Tekhartha Zenyatta, his brother’s constant companion in dubious sobriety and bendy activities that could probably get them arrested in at least thirty states and seventeen foreign countries. “Are you well?”

“I’m fine, Zen. Just talking to myself.” Hanzo replied, and turned on the water in the shower. “My apologies if I disturbed you.”

“Not at all, my friend.” A warmly melodious chuckle from the hallway. “If you wish to speak, know that I am here for you.”

“Thank you, Zen.”

He should, he supposed, have a slightly more antagonistic relationship with the man who was arguably corrupting the quite thoroughly and voluntarily corruptible morals of his younger brother, but somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to work up any serious quantity of animus for the Tekhartha. For one thing, he couldn’t look at the man without perceiving him as some sort of elegant, kindhearted, slightly baked at all times praying mantis, who looked out at the world with enormous jewelled eyes and saw a bunch of people in dire need of enormously gentle talk therapy, palliative massage, and huge quantities of psychoactive recreational chemicals designed lubricate the interaction of minds and bodies with other minds and bodies. Sometimes literally. And therein lay the problem: Zen was an actual trained clinical psychologist underneath the doofy exterior and if there was anyone in the house to whom he would, through accident or design, give up the whole something freakishly weird happened in the desert and my soul was almost eaten and somehow the ranger saved me and I have no idea how to feel or what to think about any of this thing it was most definitely him. Possibly over tea. No, check that: definitely over tea. Hanzo made a mental note to take his medicinal beverage alone in his room if at all possible.

That night, at least, it was possible: by the time he finished cleaning up and went downstairs to the kitchen, the common areas were devoid of life. A faint trace of haunting melody drifted down from above, testiment to the presence of Lucio Correia dos Santos, their fourth housemate, who was likely as deep in the process of musical composition as he ought to be in the process of visual composition. The absence of Genji and Zen from the sitting room, where the holotank and all the entertainment systems were located meant they were likely upstairs, entertaining one another somewhat more athletic ways. The absence of Hana from the same meant she was cramming for a midterm, having laid in a supply of snacks and energy beverages some time before.

He extracted the package from its anonymous plastic bag wrapping, feeling entirely too much like an operative in an action movie just before the villains came crashing in through the windows to steal is laboriously acquired intelligence or, possibly, like a teenager about to open his first stroke mag purchased under plain brown wrappers -- entirely too nervous by half and for no good reason. It was medicine. It was medicine. He absolutely was not about to drink something prescribed to him by some unknown person living in the middle of a nowhere who was close personal friends with a smoke monster and the world’s most desireable park ranger.

“It’s medicine, not a drug,” He told himself, as he examined the tiny, elegant, single-serving tea bell and the tiny, elegant tin, outside etched in a delicate swirling mandala in a dozen shades of blue, the lid covered in a freshly printed sticker written in a language he couldn’t read but which was, he knew from a couple hundred credit hours worth of art history classes, was probably some form of Arabic. He firmly ignored the voice of rationality that insisted on pointing out drugs and medicines were exactly the same damned thing.

He snapped a picture of it and asked his phone for a translation, which it provided after a moment of taxing its little computer brain. For the restoration of weakened bonds between spirit and flesh, it said. Take one cup daily for seven days, preferably before sleep. Instructions: steep one teaspoon of the loose mixture in a cup of hot but not boiling water for no more than three minutes. Jesse tells me that you are a gentle, wounded soul who came by your injuries through no fault of your own, and for this reason I will tell you that the addition of a little honey and lemon will not harm the therapeutic qualities of this blend at all. May the Merciful and the Just stand between you and harm in all the empty places where you must walk. Brewed, it smelled wonderfully rich and herbaceous, a deep green-golden color even before he added a dollop of honey. He admitted to himself, after the first sip, that it probably didn’t need the honey: he couldn’t place any individual flavor but the way they blent together on his tongue was delicious beyond any other herbal infusion that he could recall, the perfume of it filling his head with every breath.

He put the tin in his section of the kitchen cabinets and set the cup and the tea bell in the sink for the morning, feeling the tug of sleep on his limbs and head and eyes already, knowing he might just fall asleep on a landing if he didn’t seek his bed at once. He was out before his head touched the pillow and that night, when he dreamt for the thousandth time of coiling sky blue scales and air that tasted of the oncoming storm and lightning-stroke eyes that weighed him and measured him and turned away, he felt the contemptuous weight of that silent judgment slightly less.

*

Hanzo woke five minutes before his alarm was set to go off and, for the first time in a very long time, he did not simply reach over and turn it off and roll out of bed with the intent of getting a fresh and early start on the day. Instead he grabbed it, yanked it until the plug either exited the outlet in the wall or the cord parted company with the back of the clock itself, dropped it in the wastepaper basket, rolled over and went back to sleep. He only began crawling vaguely in the direction of consciousness again when something -- something persistent and annoying -- managed to work its way through the cocoon of formlessly dreamy somnolence wound around his mind and soul like the world’s warmest, softest blanket. A sound? It felt like a sound even as his body refused to admit that he was hearing anything at all, not birdsong from the branches of the ginko growing in the side yard nearest his window, none of the usual morning sounds from his housemates going about their daily routines, not even his own breath and heartbeat. The worst part was he couldn’t even put a finger on why it was so irritating, it just was, relentlessly, grindingly so and when his eyes finally snapped open it was with a barely restrained urge to kill pulsing hotly behind them and it was probably a good thing he had nothing sharp or heavy in easy reach and he was not in his own bed. Instead, he was looking again at a fieldstone kiva graced with a little rearing horse statue and the sort of happy little flowering cactus that a neo-futurist clone of Bob Ross would have painted because he decided the horse statue needed a friend, curled on his side in the cushions of the world’s most comfortable couch, nested in the world’s most comfortable throw blankets, listening to the world’s most aggravating non-sound claw at the inside of his being.

How was the first coherent thought to make itself known, followed closely by Genji is going to have hysterical screaming hysterics and then how HOW how the fucking HOW?

“Gabe.”

That was new: a voice he’d never heard before, period, not only in this specific context, deep and gravelly, the sort of voice one could clearly imagine growling orders over poorly functioning communications systems in the middle of a life-or-death crisis or offering a pep-talk on the sidelines to a scrappy-but-legitimately-terrible little league team that lost more than they won and still got pizza and milkshakes at the end of the season because he was just that sort of coach, warm and rough all at once.

“Gabe.”

And also beginning to experience a certain urge toward homicidal violence, if the tightness in his tone was anything to go by.

“Gabriel!”

The psychotically aggravating sound-not-sound abruptly ceased.

“What?” Now there was a voice he knew: the smoke monster. The smoke monster somewhere traumatically close by and Hanzo froze, involuntarily, torn between the desire to pull the blankets over his head in a childish impulse to test their monster-repellent properties and an equally potent urge to leap to his feet and start demanding answers, beginning immediately and lasting until he was fully satisfied with the results. Also nearby: footsteps on the hardwood floor, moving light and swift, accompanied by a gently rhythmic taptaptaping.

“Hon, I know you’re worried, but you really, really have to stop doing that. There are non-predatory species hunkering down in the bushes, watching the house with murderous intent. Unless you want Jesse to walk into a low-budget remake of a Hitchcock flick when he gets home, you need to take it down a notch.” Little League Commando’s tone was far, far gentler than its native amount of gargled with whiskey and fifty caliber shell casings seemed to allow and, moving slowly, Hanzo eased himself up out of the defensive blanket-nest, stealthily, stealthily, and peered over the back of the couch.

The smoke monster was, at the moment, particularly smoky, a barely humanoid mass of vaporous shadowy coils interspersed with a completely excessive number of smoldering crimson eyes and the fangy slash of mouths, plural. It hovered more than sat in the cushioned windowseat overlooking the front porch, a crepuscular appendage that couldn’t quite be called an arm holding the curtains back just far enough to let in a shaft of wan sunlight that clearly, obviously wanted absolutely nothing to do with illuminating it and also for it to see out with multiple sets of eyes. Jack, by way of extreme personal contrast, looked as though all the color had been systematically siphoned out of his hair and skin by extradimensional pigment thieves, leaving behind white and the faintest hint of ash and the bluest blue eyes Hanzo had ever seen. Eyes, point in fact, that were fixed unseeing at a point somewhere above the smoke monster’s putative head; the cane he leaned on, despite not looking like the traditional red-tipped-white, was clearly a sensory assistive device of some kind.

Where the fuck IS HE, Jack. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t spoken out loud, and the intensity of the emotion in it involuntarily tightened Hanzo’s throat, sent a thrill of fear straight to his limbic system. It’s not that far to the city, he should have been back HOURS ago.

“Gabe,” Jack -- it had to be Jack, there was no one else in the room -- replied, in the sort of carefully neutral tone that suggested, strongly, some variation of this conversation had occurred at least a few dozen times before and would likely occur a few dozen times again in the future, “You know I hate to be the one to remind you of this but, well, he’s not actually seventeen anymore. He is, in fact, a grown-ass adult who is entirely capable of taking care of himself in most situations, including the ones that might, just might, involve shacking up somewhere for a one night stand with an alarmingly handsome MFA grad student that he rescued from mortal peril.”

Holy Mother of Darkness, Jack. The tenebrous mass on the windowseat twitched uncontrollably for several seconds and Hanzo found that he couldn’t really blame it, because he was doing the same and blushing furiously and having to fight the urge to leap up and defend his honor at considerable and vituperative length. In what fucking universe is THAT a good outcome?

“This one, in which commitment and further emotional involvement-free gratitude sex is completely a thing that happens.” In tones of ruthless practicality and Hanzo found himself wishing he could just disappear or spontaneously combust or any option but hide behind the back of his rescuer’s couch and listen to this. “And, of all the things that could be keeping him away from home, I’m willing to lay that down as the least bad, okay?”

No it is NOT OKAY! The smoke monster howled wordlessly, its form shuddering, turning in on itself, coalescing into a significantly more human shape, albeit one with at least six extra pairs of eyes. “He’s vulnerable right now, Jack. They both are. He’d never be that irresponsible so soon after having to forge a connection that strong. What the Hell are you even thinking?”

“I’m thinking that you’re finally not broadcasting where is he where is he if he’s not dead when he walks through that door I’m going to kill him at everything with a functioning medulla oblongata for fifty miles square around this building.” Jack reached up and touched an in-ear communication device of some variety. “Ana? Yeah, don’t take the shot, I think he’s actually down off the ledge.”

“I cannot believe you,” The smoke monster glared with three fewer pairs of eyes. “Our son is missing and you’re -- “

“Our son just turned onto the far end of the drag, he’ll be here in ten minutes, max.” Jack smiled and Hanzo sank down below the level of the couch and, this time, he did pull the blankets over his head. “Seriously, I can only imagine what you’d be like if you actually gave birth to him.”

“Not. Funny.”

“Kinda funny.”

“No.”

The ranger’s vehicle glided to a nearly-silent halt outside and, summoning all his courage, Hanzo peered out from beneath the shield of blankets, trusting in the general depth of the cushions and the current paucity of natural light to assist in concealing his presence. Actual, physical keys jingled and actual, physical locks disengaged, the door creaked open with the sepulcheral moan he recalled from that first night not yet a week prior and the ranger stepped in, a cardboard pastry box tucked in the crook of one arm, looking several orders of magnitude wearier than he had -- how many hours before? It couldn’t have been that many, really -- and froze on his own doorstep, abruptly pinioned as he was between the smoke monster on one side and the Little League Commando on the other and Hanzo felt such immediate and complete sympathy for that impossible situation it was all he could do to hold still and silent.

“Jesse Nathaniel McCree,” the smoke monster said in the sort of smoothly menacing tone that promised quite a number of things and not a one of them pleasant, “where the actual fuck have you been?”

Jesse held out the pastry box. “And a good morning to you, too.”

Smoky the Horrible Tentacular Menace accepted the offering and glanced down at it. “What.”

“You like their flourless chili chocolate thingamabobs, right? I was in the neighborhood, so I figured I’d pick some up. Admittedly, I also figured I’d see you at your place, so my best laid plans are already put awry.” He shrugged out of his jacket, hung it on the pegboard, and kicked the door closed behind him. “Jack.”

“Kid,” And not even pretending to conceal his amusement, which Hanzo was willing to put down to some combination of extreme personal courage, decades-long interpersonal relationships, and quite possibly some form of not particularly well-sublimated deathwish. “Madre here’s been flipping and I’d appreciate it, if you’re going to be away from the nest for any length of time henceforth, that you not turn your cell off because there was nearly a murder. Possibly more than one. Coffee?”

“I would adore coffee.” Jesse offered the smoke monster the sort of smile that, properly deployed in a diplomatic context, could probably bring about world peace. “Come on, mamá, let’s have some breakfast and I’ll tell you all about it.”

The smoke monster took the sort of deep, cleansing breath which with Hanzo was personally familiar and murmured, “I see you two are intent upon forgetting that I fucking know where you sleep. Okay. Fine. Let’s eat, and while we’re eating you will describe in exquisite detail exactly where you’ve been for the last sixteen hours.”

“Frankly, my bet was down on shacked up in a No Tell Motel with the scorching grad student -- “

“OH MY GOD.” For the first time that day, Hanzo felt absolute vindication because the ranger -- his ranger, his perfect gentleman ranger -- sounded at least as appalled as he felt. “Jack.”

“Or I could be wrong.” Still palpably amused and Hanzo wondered silently which Hell one was sent to for deliberately tripping blind senior citizens as often as possible. “Incidentally, kid, you sound like fifteen miles of beat up donkey crap that’s also on fire so I can only imagine what you look like. Where’d the thingamabobs come from?”

“Sugarmama’s in Flagstaff. Arizona.” Gabriel, now sounding significantly less monstrous, growled; cutlery and plates rattled on the table a few arm-lengths away. “Which, if I recall correctly, is almost four hundred miles one way from here so I think an explanation is in order.”

Hanzo smelled and heard coffee being poured and someone taking a long, fortifying drink of the same. “After yesterday’s excitement, Hanzo wanted more than anything else to go home and, since I couldn’t really blame him for that, I drove him up to the city and dropped him off with instructions to call me if things were still off-kilter after a week or so.” A pause, as plates were passed and pastries distributed and more coffee consumed. “I...felt a little restless after I left him, so I took a drive to Mesa Urraca just to check on the ward boundary up there and, since I was still not feeling right when I got back, I decided it was time to walk the Red Zone perimeter.”

“The perimeter,” Jack, carefully neutral.

“Yup,” Jesse, the soul of insouciance.

“The perimeter which is over a thousand miles round trip, covers four states, innumerable liminal sub-boundaries, and is generally not left to one person to patrol alone for those reasons.” Gabriel, flatly, without a trace of actual question in his tone.

“Look, I’m not sayin’ I lolligagged around in any particular place. I just wanted to get a feel for how things might be changing out on the tracks. Something ain’t right and it’s getting less right all the time -- the fact that Hanzo nearly got snatched up within spitting distance of Tsé Bit’a’í is proof of that. A year ago nothing, no matter how strong it might be, would have dared. Could have dared, even.” A sigh. “Upshot is, the boundary there is unstable in a way that makes me think someone, or something, has been pushing to make it so.”

“You’re probably not wrong,” Gabriel admitted, ungrudgingly. “Fareeha came down from Los Alamos last night and brought some intel from her friend upstairs. Turns out, the experimental high energy science lab’s been detecting some unusually strong and coherent electromagnetic anomalies inside the boundaries of the Red Zone for the last ten weeks. They’re setting up a semi-permanent research station in the old Albuquerque International Sunport terminal complex.”

“Think I saw some of that going down. Security’s not amateur hour, I’ll give ‘em that.” It sounded as though he were fighting a desperate rearguard action against a yawn, one that failed spectacularly. “Could you top me off? Thank you kindly.”

“You’re welcome.” Jack again and, then, quietly, “How long has it been since you last slept?”

“I got a solid eight Friday into Saturday.” The sound of rapturous sipping. “You still make the best -- “

“You can’t keep this up, mijo.” Gabriel, his tone unusually gentle. “You’re not going to be any good to anyone if you grind yourself past the point of physical and mental exhaustion. You’re almost beyond the edge even now. Let us -- “

“Do what?” And the pure and perfect weariness in his voice twisted Hanzo’s heart. “Tie can’t be cut until his soul’s firmly reattached to where it’s supposed to be. I sent him back to his real life with Ana’s spirit-mending medicine to speed the process along as much as possible, but it’s not like it can be rushed. If I sleep now, while we’re still tied so close together, we’ll share a single dreamspace and that’ll pull him back here whether he wants to come or not.” Hanzo’s heart almost stopped, his breath caught and he knew, suddenly and absolutely, that only part of him was here and the rest was somewhere else, like it had been before. “It’s hard enough letting this one go as it is, so I would ask that you not invite me to make it harder.”

“Jesse,” And there was no disguising the shock, or the fear, in just that one word.

“It’d be one thing if he were only pretty on the outside. Easier, for one.” A pause, a quiet sigh, the tired smile visible in his voice when he next spoke. “But he’s beautiful all the way through and he was hurt before he got here, before this happened to him, and if I were going to guess? That’s what caught something’s eye -- that wound in his spirit, however it got made, and it’s going to keep being catnip for whatever’s out there. So it’s best that we all do what we have to do to keep him as far from here as possible and for me that means staying awake. All the awake.”

“That’s pretty crazy, kid.” Jack, dryly.

“If you’ve got a better idea, I’m willing to entertain it. Otherwise? Put on another pot of coffee.”

*

#WIP Ghost Stories On Route 66 #I'll fix the italics in the morning

[spnoneshotsandstories]

♥ Blue Jeans ♥- Sam Winchester Imagines

* the only thing I own is the outfit viewed and this story all videos and or pictures are not mine! TY*

Undercover….Oh how you hated it, but it was a must if you were going to get the jump on the vampires terrorizing Lafayette, Louisiana. The boys were in there casuals but you had to be dolled up because you were “vamp bait”, it was Friday, you were going down to the bar nearest your motel 6 to see if you could score a lead on these lamprey, overbite bastards. Y/N sighed “is this all a beauty school drop out is good for, vamp bait”? Well you weren’t a drop out per say long story short you had a bad feeling, stayed home sick a few days before winter break and went to school the next day to a mass murder, turns out it was a group of really pissed up spirits that some bimbo decided to resurrect after reciting some half-assed hocus pocus that actually worked. And that’s when you met them…..Sam and Dean Winchester.

You stepped out of the shower, your HL, purple (or what ever your fav. abnormal hair dye is(purple, pink, bright red, green blue etc.) hair dripped down your hourglass figure, tickling your skin. You got half way done when three pounds were placed on the door. “Y/N HURRY UP, WE GOTTA GET A LEAD ON THESE BASTARDS” Dean said shouting as if you were deaf. You rolled your beautiful E/C eyes“ Well Dean, when you make a girl “vamp bait” she kinda can’t just show up in sweats and a tank top, ya know? Gotta “act the part” so to speak right, and what kinda girls to vamp boys like, 5 dollar whores, sooo shut the hell up and let me work!” I said cheerfully hearing Sam laugh his ass off in the background. You smiled ahhh, Sam, your loving moose in denim armor, he hated the idea of you being bait, but it was the only way to draw the vampires out. Slipping into your outfit as quick as you could you rolled your eyes again as Dean started whining again. “Y/N, JUST HURRY UP, I WANT TO GO TO THE BAR SOMETIME THIS YEAR!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know your dying to get some blood in your alcohol system, hustle some poor unfortunates souls and end the night by getting the clap, same ol’ Dean routine” you said smirking as you exited the bathroom after fixing your hair. Sam having just recovered from your previous comment was sent back down to the floor in another fit of giggles, wiping tears from his eyes, he finally opened them and was stuck like a deer in headlights...just like Dean was. You could tell Dean was trying to keep his comments to himself because after all you were Sam’s girlfriend, cocking your hip to the side, you smirked “see something you like gentlemen”? A dose of their own medicine, if that was ever one, these boys run around practically naked in the motel and give you eye fulls like someone wouldn’t believe...not that you were complaining but its good for the tables to turn.

“I don’t just like it, I love it” Sam said growling in your ear like some animal and he was as he wrapped his arms around your waist….Don’t let his vegetarian, jolly green giant act fool you, Sam was a devil in the sack, in more ways then one. You quickly turn around and give him a quick peck before retreating for baby at full speed, Sam right on your tail, probably trying to get another or as he would call it a “proper” kiss. You hop in the backseat of baby, panting lightly with a smile on your face and locked both doors in time to look up at Sam and stick your tongue out.

You ended up at Dix Daiquiris and stayed there for two hours and still nothing, of course you couldn’t sit with the boys because then the vamp’s wouldn’t try to get you, but you were within sight of both of them if some guy got freaky. Watching drunk people failing horribly at karaoke was fun but only for so long, they were after all 100% tone deaf, not that you could talk, you never let anyone hear your voice, you sung well enough but if was a secret you would have hoped to take to your grave but you had to draw these bad boys out, so what better way then to have the spotlight on you for 4 minutes, getting an eyeful of your anti-possession tattoo on your collarbone?

When the karaoke host called for the next singer you stood up and walked on stage. “All right, guys and gals it looks like we have a volunteer, what’s your name honey?” You smiled “Hi, my names Stacy” you said with a smile and wink. “Well hello Stacy and what will you be singing tonight?” You looked and Sam for a second and took in his appearance before fake pondered for a moment then smiled “I think I’ll have a go at Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey * Not me or my video, all right belong to Alice Kristiansen* , but do you have a guitar I can borrow, I don’t need the lyrics or background music”. I was handed a guitar and was giving a stool to sit on. Guitar in position I started singing and playing:

(Lyrics written as Alice Kristiansen wrote it)

Your E/C orbs landed on Sam and stayed as you started

“Blue jeans, white shirt”, the look on his face was like he’d been splashed in the face with cold water, and he was completely transfixed on you, just like everyone else. “Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn” you saw his cheeks redden slightly making you smile in the song as you continued. “It was like James Dean, for sure You so fresh to death and sick as cancer” you sent him a wink, cause the redness to spread, oh how you loved your moose, he could rock your world all night long in the sheets, but you wink and the man and he’s like a blushing bride. “You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop But you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and I know” He smiled at that, he loved to cuddle, he was the cuddle monster and more importantly, he was YOUR cuddle monster. “That love is mean, and love hurts” Thinking back to all the past ex’s he told you about, but the one that hit him the most was Jessica, he still beats him self up over that and it’s been years. “But I still remember that day we met in December, oh baby” December 13, 2007 – you were both 24, after being witness to what killed your whole school you raised hell on the brothers until they took you with them, you’ve been like Bonnie and Clyde’s ever since, but you didn’t start dating Sam until after Jessica died because Sam and Jess were still together at the time and you felt bad.  

“I will love you 'til the end of time I would wait a million years” Sam looked at you and smiled through glossed eyes, he was getting emotional, very typical of your favorite moose. “Promise you'll remember that you're mine Baby can you see through the tears? Love you more Than those bitches before” As you sung this, you know you both thought of Ruby, you had so much fun sticking that bitch it wasn’t even funny, not only that but it wasn’t a quick kill either, you personally tortured her for three days for playing Sam like a well tuned fiddle before stabbing her right in the heart with her own dagger...oh the irony. “Say you'll remember, swear you’ll remember I will love you 'til the end of time” Sam tried to smile as water dripped from his eyes.

“Big dreams, gangster Said you had to leave to start your life over I was like, no please, stay here We don't need no money we can make it all work But he headed out on Sunday, said he'd come on Monday I stayed up waitin', anticipatin' and pacin' but he was Chasing paper Caught up in the game, that was the last I heard” Okay so not the truth but close enough to his situation...when Sam was on his demon blood spree he left your sight every which way he could, you knew if wasn’t his fault and that Ruby had poisoned him, but it hurt to know what he had done, but you forgave him because at this point, you knew you couldn’t live without him. Looking at Sam, he looked away with a guilty look, now he was a sad Sam moose/dog hybrid...and it was killing you to look at him.

“I will love you 'til the end of time I would wait a million years Promise you'll remember that you're mine Baby can you see through the tears? Love you more Than those bitches before Say you'll remember, swear you'll remember I will love you 'til the end of time” More tears cascaded down his face in a tornado of emotions between guilty, sad and happy, he looked up and didn’t take his eyes off me again.

“He went out every night And baby that's alright I told you that no matter what you did I'd stay by your side Cause Ima ride or die Whether you fail or fly Well shit, at least you tried But when you walked out that door, a piece of me died I told you I wanted more- not what I had in mind Just want it like before We were dancin' all night Then they took you away- took you out of my life You just need to remember” Again referring to his time with Ruby, yes, yes he used to leave the house everyday to either train or drink Ruby’s blood and who knows what else and you didn’t ask, because you would rather forgive and forget then forget to forgive. Moose/dog resurfaced himself on Sam’s face and it hurt to see him like that...it really did.  

“I Will love you till the end of time I would wait a million years Promise you'll remember that your mine Baby can you see through the tears? Love you more Than those bitches before Say you'll remember, swear you’ll remember I will love you till the end of time”

Pure silence through out the run down bar and then the roof about got blown off by the amount of applause, whistling, howls and any other noise these drunken idiots could think of. I wanted so much to see and hug Sam but I couldn’t not now, since I’m supposed to play bait. It seems I was rewarded when a guy came up to me smiling and ordered me a drink. I thanked him for it before excusing myself to the bathroom on purpose, I “did my business” and went back to my seat and took a drink, what ever he put in here had already dissolved, now it was just a waiting game, my time was ticking before I ended up doing something.

“Hey , why don’t we ditch this place and head down to this old warehouse about 5 miles from here” the vampire said to me smiling. Playing the “dumb blonde” act, I smiled and wrapped my arms around his offered one, trying not to throw up or kill him now with the machete I had strapped to my back, which was concealed by my jacket. I walked with my fanged host towards the exit and “tripped” over Dean’s foot. “ Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry, me and my friend were just leaving”. Dean smiled, playing along, Sam couldn’t even look at me right now, his head was in a book. “ Don’t sweat it..uhhh, Y/N right, helluva voice you got there doll, have fun now” he said with a wink and we went on our way...after I was situated in his car, I saw Sam and Dean quickly sneak to baby and start to follow us.

The idiot really had no idea we were hunters, he must have been newly turned, cause there isn’t a ghost, ghoul, demon, or angel out there that doesn’t know what a star inside a circle indicates. Took me completely back to the nest, at least 15 more were here...not to bad. Anyways before we got to the door, I decapitated him before he could get inside and alert the others of my presence and drug his body behind a bush before running full speed down the dirt road, where Sam and Dean were waiting for me outside the car. I ran into Sam’s arms and kissed him.

He let out a sound between and growl, moan and purr before hoisting me up around his waist and holding me there. Once we parted we both gasped for breath “sorry love, been waiting a long time for that” he smiled shyly “hey, I’m not complaining”. Anyways lets roll before they find, you know, motioning with my finger as I slid it across my throat with my tongue sticking out in a “dead man’s” face. The next morning we got rid of the whole nest and just in case, burnt the house to the ground, then called the fire department anonymously to take care of the fire, vamps dead, tracks undetected, case closed. The boys and I went to a different bar and celebrated our success before heading back.

I was about to enter the room before I had an idea….a horribly terrible terrific idea. Cheshire cat grin on my face I booked it to the front desk and order a room and for kicks, I asked for the room next to what will now be just Deans room. Ran back, knocked on Dean’s door, Sam answered with his stuff in hand, getting ready to just hit the road tomorrow, I grinned at him ear to ear and pulled him to the next room and unlocked the door. Seeing where this was going, Sam grinned and tackled me to the bed. Caution thrown to the wind and soon so were the clothes, turning the tables, you sat unabashed completely naked like a new born babe, just above his groin and massaged his torso, Sam made sounds of enjoyment, not so quietly triggering Dean’s rant next door. “ GOD DAMMIT, SAM, Y/N, A MAN’S GOTTA SLEEP, ESPECIALLY WHEN WE START TOMORROW EARLY AND I’M THE ONE DRIVING” he roared as he pounded on the wall.

Just to piss him off you gave a fake moan, pretending to not hear him. Sam was snickering “your evil” he lipped to you clearly enjoying the situation. You smiled and winked at him before bending down and kissing him lightly, before traveling to his ear:

“I Will love you till the end of time I would wait a million years Promise you'll remember that your mine Baby can you see through the tears? Love you more Than those bitches before Say you'll remember, swear you’ll remember I will love you till the end of time”  

You sung gently in his ear as you continued to worship his body with all your tender kisses and touches until you drove him crazy. He flipped you over in second flat after your tender kisses started heading a little too far down..south. He growled and flipped over on top…let the games begin.

#sam winchester #spn #spn one shot #sam imagine