#I think the worst possible direction they could take his story is if Jack-O' gets pregnant 100% serious

[solradguy]

They're going to do more Sol story in season 3 and it's going to drive me nuts in a bad way I can feel it in my bones. They're going to put his ass in a domestic situation and Homer Simpson him. If I name the evil it can't hurt me

[emily-strange]

Second Chances

So with some encouragement, I thought I’d start the John x reader fic I’ve had in my head for ages! I’m not forgetting about my Micah fic at all, for those who care ;) I just really can’t shake this idea. 

For the premise of this story, Jack is a little bit younger. I just can’t hurt that boy’s feelings!

Summary: You're Sadie Adler’s 18 year old daughter who was visiting from school when the O’Driscolls attack. How will you cope with gang life and your increasing feelings for someone who, on the surface, isn’t up for grabs?

Pairing: John Marston x female reader

Warnings: None

Chapter 1

It’s freezing. The world outside blanketed in snow and ice.

Everyone sits huddled into the small Colter shack covered in blankets and large coats; doing whatever they can to stave off the bitter chill that leaks inside.

Mrs Adler is situated between you and Mary-Beth. She cries into her hands and lets the tears drop freely onto her skirt.

“Mama, you have to try and calm down” you say softly. Only to be met with more wailing. You take a deep breath and make your way to the other end of the shack where John, you think his name’s John, lies in a terrible state after his wolf attack.

You can’t help but sigh and rub your forehead, trying to ease the tension that keeps building. You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a croaky voice.

“Things really that bad?” John quietly asks before letting out a small laugh; followed by a hacking cough. You rush to sit on the little stool near his head and ease him up to help him cough better. After he’s done you lower him back down and smile.

“Oh you know. Been better.” you smile softly and place his freezing hands underneath the blanket that’s draped across him.

“Yeah I bet.” is all he can manage to say before wincing and you decide that a bit of light conversation might be a good distraction for you both.

“I just needed to breathe you know? Grief….it’s suffocating at the best of times let alone when you’re stuck with a bunch of strangers. Not that we ain’t grateful! I’m not saying that. Just….it’s….” you trail off struggling to find the right words but John jumps in with an answer.

“It’s like you’re being crushed.” he says and you give him a small, sad smile.

“Yeah…that’s about right….you know I haven’t even cried yet?” you whisper and hang your head in shame. John reaches out his hand from under the blanket and lightly brushes your hand to get your attention.

“Won’t lie. I don’t know everythin’ that brought ya to us, been kinda out of it. But…don’t beat yaself up so much. Can see it in yer eyes….won’t do no good. Ya doin’ all you can ‘n thatsa nuff.” he says through his broken, chapped lips.

You find yourself drawn to his eyes. Beautifully vibrant eyes that tell you he knows all about beating yourself up. You wonder what happened to him.

You give him a tired smile, “How did someone so wise get beaten by some wolves eh?”

It makes you happy inside to see John smile despite the terrible shape he’s in.

“Nah we’re tha same. Not beaten. Justa bit bruised” he huffs out.

Before you can say anything else, the woman who’s been sitting with your mother the most, bursts through the door with her little boy. If you had to guess you’d say he was about 2 or 3. The topic of children has never been one you’ve been interested in. You usually just nod and smile as people discuss them. You’re happier to actually have a chat with the children rather than the parent.

Abigail storms her way over to John and you jump up and out of the way.

“John” she says rather curtly, “the boy wanted to see ya.”

You look at Jack and to be perfectly honest, the kid doesn’t seem interested in the slightest. He’s looking at the blonde woman who’s sat in the corner drinking with an old man. She’s making faces and little Jack is loving it.

Your attention is snapped back when John answers Abigail. You weren’t aware that they’re a family. In all fairness your mind has been elsewhere the last couple of days.

“Yeah, well, now he’s seen me.” John grumbles at her, not even looking at Jack. You can tell that Abigail is instantly pissed off by this.

“Guess I was hoping to see a corpse!” she shouts before walking Jack away to be in front of the fire.

For a moment you stand shocked at what you’ve just seen. It’s clearly a very messy situation and with everything that’s going on, you’re staying far away from it.

John looks at you and you smile awkwardly before moving back to sit with your mother who collapses onto your shoulder. You put your arms around her and rock her back and forth, like she used to do to you as a child.

You can’t help but notice that John is still straining his neck to look at you before giving up and relaxing into the thin cot underneath him.

Days pass and you move on with the gang. The 'Van der Linde’ gang you learn.

You arrive at Horseshoe Overlook and begin helping unload the wagons. You can hear Miss Grimshaw screaming already and the sound cuts right through you. As you’re carrying a large bag over to one of the tents you see Arthur walking away from Dutch. From what you’ve gathered by listening, and what you’ve been told, Arthur is his right hand man.

The bag is taken from your hands and you look up to see your mother.

“Go on” she motions towards Arthur and you smile; jogging off to catch him before he mounts up.

“Umm excuse me, Mr Morgan?” you call out and he stops, turning to look at you. He genuinely seems like a nice man. Fatherly almost. You’ve not seen him lose his temper yet as you have with the other men. Well, other than kind Hosea of course.

“Yes, Miss Adler, what can I do fer you?” he asks and you smile.

“Y/N. Please.” you say and he nods, saying in that case you’re to call him Arthur. You nod.

“Okay, Arthur. Well I was wondering if you could put in a good word with Dutch for me?” you start, “See, my skills don’t really lie with sewing and washing. I’m happy to do that of course, you’ve all been so kind to me and my mom. I just….I’m a really good hunter.”

“Is that so?” Arthur says smirking, but not unkindly.

“Yeah. Living where we did, I had to be.” you laugh.

You don’t see it, but Arthur looks across the camp and see’s your mother watching you both. She nods and mouths “please”. He subtly nods back.

“Well, hows about this. The woman’ve been yappin’ at me that they’re bored. So when I get back from runnin’ this errand, I’ll take you all inta town 'nd we’ll get some supplies. We’ll go huntin’ and if I like what I see I’ll talk ta Dutch.” he smiles and turns to mount onto his horse.

You smile a real smile for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Thank you Mr..Arthur” you say correcting yourself.

“No problem. Now, go help out before Miss Grimshaw gets ta ya” Arthur chuckles before riding out of camp.

As you walk back toward your mom you hear a grown from inside a large tent. Curiosity gets the better of you and you glance inside to see John struggling to turn over on his cot.

“Hey, need a hand?” you ask quietly as to not make him jump.

“Ya know what. A hand would be mighty helpful” he laughs and you cant help but laugh too when you see the mess he’s gotten himself into trying to get comfortable.

However while entering the tent you can clearly see that John’s only wearing his union suit without the blanket covering him.

“Umm” you clear your throat, “Maybe I should go get Abigail?” you say trying to avoid looking in his general direction. You point outside of the tent and move to exit before John jumps in.

“God, no. Please just….just help me shift downa bit. Please?” John sounds so fragile and you just can’t find it in you to refuse him. You meet his eyes and fight a smile.

“Okay” you say and go over to help him move down the cot. He gets his legs into a comfortable position and holds onto your arm while you use your other one to support his upper-back. Once John’s comfy you find yourself just watching his relaxed face.

“Ah thanks. Much better.” he sighs and you smile.

You take a moment to study John in the light of his open tent. The scars on his face are healing well but still look sore and angry, as do his bruises. He looks almost frail. There wasn’t much to eat up in the mountains, everyone seems a bit gaunt but having been missing for so long John seems to be the worst.

John snaps you out of your trance.

“Haven’t seen much of ya.” he notes.

“Um, yeah, you know. Its all been a bit manic” you laugh humorlessly.

“I was uh, kinda worried Abigail said sumthin’ to ya.” he adds awkwardly.

That takes you aback.

“What? Um no….no she hasn’t said anything” you say quickly while glancing through the gap in the tent flaps. You can see Abigail ushering Jack into their newly designated area of camp. Your eyes snap back to John as he manages to prop himself up on his elbows.

“He….he ain’t mine.” he starts and you find yourself fiddling with your hands, “She tells everyone he is. 'nd I got nothin’ against the kid but….he ain’t mine.”

This really is none of your business. But you can’t help the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

“Why…why would she lie?” you ask quietly but before he can answer, the flaps of the tent are pulled open.

“John!” Abigail shouts before coming to a sudden halt in front of you. Your eyes go wide and you can’t help but stutter like a child who’s been caught stealing candy.

“I…was just helping…John….but I um” you say quickly.

“But you was just leavin'” Abigail finishes for you which John admonishes her for.

“Abby for God’s sake” he starts but you cut him off.

“No, I was just leaving. B…bye John.” you say even quicker and give a clearly angry Abigail a small, awkward smile as you sneak past her. She doesn’t give you any extra room so you have to make yourself as small as possible to get past.

Soon as you’re on the other side of the tent she drops the flaps and starts whispering harshly to John. You stand for a few seconds trying to work out what they’re saying before you give up and make your way over to your mom.

“You okay baby?” your mom asks when you join her on a large rock just outside camp.

“Oh yeah. Fine.” you sigh and rub your tired face.

“You weren’t made to be cooped up like this” your mom says before she starts crying again, “I’m sorry this happened”.

“Oh mama don’t say that” you say before hugging your mother tight, “We’ll be okay.”

You hold your mother as she cries. Rocking her back and forth, all the while watching as Abigail storms back out of John’s tent. She catches your eye and you look away from her. You can’t deal with all this drama right now. You have to get yourself back on your feet; to start rebuilding your mothers life. The one that was so cruelly taken from her.

“We’ll be okay,” you repeat quietly.

[rainbows-fanfics]

Two Dearest Friends (Chapter 11)

Summary:

Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, meets Sally, a ragdoll created by Dr. Finklestein. A friendship blossoms between them as he introduces her to the world outside of her tower. Sally is falling for him as their relationship grows into something more, and Jack finds the same is happening to him.

A story where the Christmas incident never happens, and Jack and Sally find their happiness on their own.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally

Their eyes meet for a split second before the smaller figure rushes to hide behind a building. But Jack's already seen her, and he rounds the corner quickly to catch up with her. He finds the ragdoll leaning against the wall, playing with her hair and jumping in surprise once she sees him standing in front of her. He finds this charming - surely she had seen him as well? "Hello there," He greets, his tone naturally warm. "Hi..." She attempts to be interested in the dead tree beside her, and for a moment, he feels like he's being ignored. But when he sees her hands climb up to her hair and curl the yarn strands within her finger, he realizes he's mistaken. He mentally dwells over what to say to Sally. His mind has been so jumbled with Halloween planning that he almost forgot how to greet a friend. He scolds himself for being so busy and doesn't notice the curious look in her black eyes as she observes him. "I was going to the Graveyard, just now." He tugs at his collar. "Would you like to join me?" He feels something harden in his bones as she grimaces, but notices she's not looking in his direction. Before he can turn his skull and see what she's looking at, she jumps to her feet and starts nodding enthusiastically, even starting to walk down the path before he does. He follows after her and offers an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his skull as they enter the Outskirts. --------------------------- On their way to the Graveyard, he feels an ache in his spine. He attempts to crack it but comes to no avail. He stretches uncomfortably until he hears a pop and sighs in relief. That's when he finds her stare on him and realizes she's been watching the whole time. He grins in embarrassment as he returns to his previous position, holding his arms behind his back in a more dignified manner. As her eyes travel over his thin frame, Sally notices something. His limbs move freely and quickly, and he always appears so balanced. Like the complete opposite of her. Just watching him stretch intrigues her. He positioned his body in a way she hadn't thought possible. It was then she takes a good look at his thin frame and chest, her cheeks growing hotter the longer she stares. And when his gaze finds hers again, she can't find the courage to tear her eyes away. "You are really flexible," She comments, letting a breath out slowly. "Oh! Well, yes, I've been told that before." His slides his palm on the side of his skull. "Someone once told me I reminded them of a spider." "A spider?" He notices her fascination and nods slightly. "Well, it's probably because I can move like this." For demonstration, he ducks forward and rests his palms against the ground, moving the rest of his body in a second until it sinks down, then moves his knees so they make contact on the floor. Then he sprawls himself on the ground for a moment, a stance mimicking a spider, before he flips forward and brings himself back to his feet. When he looks at her, he finds her with amazed eyes and a mesmerized smile. It fuels his confidence with himself. When she notices he's looking at her, she clears her throat. "That was..." Her hand hovers in the air for a moment. "Just like a spider!" He chuckles. "I'm glad you think so, Sally. It's one of the things that makes me a showman." They arrive at the Graveyard's gates before anything more can be exchanged. He holds it open and motions for her to come in first. She shyly takes a step forward, passing him a smile, before arriving inside. He shuts the gates behind him and inhales deeply, already getting comfortable in its peaceful aura.

"The fog is wonderfully thick this time of year, don't you think?" She looks around and sniffs for herself, smelling the bits of bones Finklestein has stashed in his laboratory. Then she looks at the fog and notices just how thick it is. She can barely make out all the graves and pumpkins from this angle. "Why, yes, it is." He brushes past her and begins walking in a direction. She stumbles to follow him, obviously not wanting to lose him so quickly. She notices he's taking her to the spiral hill and slows down as he climbs it. When they're at the top, he taps the empty spot beside him. She flattens her dress and sits down like she has done before, the two of them sitting and absorbing their surroundings silently. The weather around them is cold, but every part of her feels hot. She drugged the Doctor earlier, out of fear more than anything. She still has no idea how she managed to bump into Jack, but she's glad she did. And she was surprised when he invited her to come with him. He looked so tired when he passed her; she thought he wouldn't notice they made contact at all! She unconsciously scoots closer to him and lets out a shaky sigh. Could she...tell him how she feels? No, no, that would be too sudden! But would he even feel the same way about her?... "This is exactly what I needed," His voice snaps her back into reality. "Some peace and quiet." She releases the breath she has been holding, relieved he finally said something. "Yes, I really needed it, too..." Thoughts of the Doctor begin to cloud her mind. She thinks of the encumbering demands that made her fear for her life. That if she messed up on anything, he would tamper with her brain. Or if she had said the wrong thing, he would threaten her with it again. She became the slave he has wanted for a few days, and already could she feel the life draining out of her, as if everything was pointless. She freed herself just to feel some meaning again, and only because she incidentally found the Deadly Nightshade in the Doctor's room. Jack looks over at her with a worried expression. "-I wasn't actually expecting you to agree with me. Is something the matter?" She goes quiet, wondering whether she should tell him. He's already done so much for her...asking anymore would just be selfish at this point. But he encourages her honesty and even promised she could come to him if anything was wrong. Yet, if Finklestein knew she blabbed again, he may as well go through with his promises. And that was the last thing she wanted. She doesn't know what to say and decides to let her imagined heart speak for her. "Things have been frightful at home. And...not the good type of fright. I needed to leave again. The Doctor says the more I see you, the more I'll be bothering you..." His mouth forms into an 'O', but no words escape. He registers her words several times, making vague gestures with his bony hands as he grasps for words. He eventually pulls himself together and spits out his reply. "--Well, first of all, you aren't bothersome to me at all. Your company is very...congenial, if I'd say so myself." She doesn't understand the word he used, but she's relieved to hear his response. For a moment, she actually had believed she was bothering him. She really shouldn't be seeing him so often as it is, but she can't help it. He...enjoys it. And she does, too. Her leaves flutter immensely. "Don't tell me he's been...doing those things to you again?" She bows her head guiltily. She knows he'll figure it out one way or the other. "Well...let's just say I've been realizing that the Doctor may be wrong about a few things..." He sits back exasperatedly. "-So he has." "Please, don't say anything at my convenience...he's been getting better about it; I can tell he's trying...he wouldn't want to upset his King-" "You shouldn't feel obligated to lie for him. Why would I find you out here if everything was perfectly fine at home?" She goes silent. She feels defeated for even trying to defend him at all. She was just trying to prevent the worst from happening. Apparently, her worry shows on her features, as the skeleton softens when he looks at her and nods slightly. She smiles, in relief that he understands, and comes forward to hug him again. But when they're close enough and she sees the surprised look on his skull, she retreats back to her spot and bites her lip nervously. "I was...I was, um, wondering if I could ask you some more things again?" She asks, desperately wanting to change topic. "They aren't about Halloween...they're more about you." He knows everything about her at this point, so she should get to know more about him in return. He isn't bothered by this, as the stitched smile returns to his skull and he leans more towards her. "That's fine. Go right ahead." She looks at him in surprise. Is he really okay with personal questions? The Doctor lectured her not to be too straightforward with people, or be so improper around her King. His welcoming nod of the skull only beckons her to ask the questions. She smiles and wonders what to ask first. "Well, what do you like to do? Besides your 'kingly' business..." He sits up attentively, apparently liking this question. "I'm sure you know how I like to read...I also like to do some math, and occasionally I'll run some experiments in my free time." He notices the lost look on her face. "-It's like what the Doctor does, except I do it for fun." She looks very impressed. "I hadn't thought of you liking stuff like that." "Then I guess you learned something new about me." He tilts his skull. "-I'm going to go ahead and assume you like to sew in your free time?" "Well, yes. And I like to cook...I've found a new recipe book I've been using to make the Doctor's meals lately." "Have you, now?" She nods excitedly. "I like cooking, too. But I don't do it as much as you." She notices he is less hesitant now than he was before with these questions. He is still waiting patiently for more. She brushes her hair back and thinks of what else to ask him. She has plenty, but she's scared in case she accidentally landed in unwanted territory... "I suppose I should also ask you about...well, the type of things you like?" She fumbles with her words. "I know you like Halloween-" His look changes. "-Well, you love Halloween, but...I don't know what else you really like." He thinks about it a little. "I guess my best answer would be art. I like to sing, as you know, but I also enjoy dancing and doing crafts. They're all fine hobbies." Her eyes flutter, suddenly remembering the things those Hanging Men said. Everything Jack could do and how talented he is...Then she remembers the monsters he sat with at that table, and she can't stop her thoughts from wandering. "I-I saw you in town, not too long ago. With these people that surrounded you at a table." She explains timidly. "You seemed close with them and they knew a lot about you. I was just wondering if they were your friends?" "I'm friends with everyone, Sally."   "Oh." Her face flushes red. That makes a lot of sense. Why he keeps getting stopped in town and why everyone talks to him so...casually. "I've made some friends, too...Just that day I was with the Hanging Tree, and the Band has talked to me a lot." "You mean James, John, and Jimmy? I'm well acquainted with them myself. They're very talented fellows, those three." Sally beams. He is friends with them, too? That must mean that they know a lot about Jack! She'll have to ask them once she sees them again. She tried her best to channel the excitement rising in her leaves; the same feeling the Doctor has warned her about for so long. It is all just so incredible - here she is sitting with The Pumpkin King and getting to know him! She's always wanted to talk with him more, and this day is turning in her favor thus far. The skeleton adjusts himself and doesn't bother sitting up properly, leaning over so he can admire her face. She looks much more attentive and happier than usual. He finds the look more appealing on her. Not that he doesn't like her shy nature, but it's nice to see her comfortable for once. "It's certainly new of you to start asking questions like these," He comments. "Has something brought this up?" She shakes her head, feeling somewhat shy again. "...I just wanted to get to know you more. Because friends know a lot about each other, right?" "Yes, that's right." He slowly nods his skull. "I don't mind it at all. It's actually been awhile since someone has talked to me like this. People are usually interested in what I have planned for Halloween rather than anything else I'm up to." She scrunches her nose in thought.  "That's silly. I'd like to know more about my King if I were them." "You are! And you keep happening to find me right when I come here. I think it's safe to say you have my full, undivided attention." He looks down at her and waits for her to ask him another question. She realizes this and ponders on what else to say. What to ask now? She wants to know everything about him, but that can't be done in one session. She'd have to take this one step at a time. "You said you manage everything about Halloween," She brings up. "What does that mean?" Ah, the boring stuff. He thinks, but answers regardless, "I organize and approve everything that has to do with Halloween. There's a lot of other things, too, but I'd spend too long talking about it." "What does the Mayor do?" The skeleton makes a noise, sounding like he suppressed a laugh. He clears his throat and gives an apologetic smile after. "Well, he does the first steps of everything for me, I suppose? He's mostly there to accept matters from the citizens directly when I can't." She can't stop herself from giggling. "He doesn't do much, does he?" Jack gives a relieved sigh. "Between you and me, he doesn't. He stresses a bit too much over nothing, sometimes." "I can tell," She thinks about his visit to the Doctor's. "He is a really nice man, though." "He's a close friend. Very good at heart," The Pumpkin King agrees. "A lot of the people here are. I hope Finklestein's didn't give you the wrong idea?" She shakes her head. "After meeting my friends here, Jack, I know that they're kind. Just like you." She feels a blush on her cheeks once more, but she means every word. His kindness has shown her a part of her world she has never seen...He helped her find Halloween Town past that dreadful Tower. She owes him everything for showing her the outside, and it's about time he very well knew it. He shuts his mouth to allow his stitched smile to grow to both ends of his skull. He feels differently about her compliments now. As if he accepts them before his mind can comprehend it. He isn't fully composed and he knows it, so he changes the subject. "I'm glad you were able to participate with the town. I'm sorry I didn't see you then." "I watched you with the children. They all looked so happy to see you. It only makes sense that they'd love a King as great as you." Jack grins, suddenly waving a hand in her direction. "-Ah, Sally, I - thank you. I try my best, especially at this time of year. Sometimes I get so swept up in work I get disconnected from everyone." She frowns, suddenly remembering how busy he will be. Will this be her last talk with him for awhile? She doesn't like the sound of that. She wants to be with him more...especially after everything that's happened. It hurts her just thinking of how long they'll be separated again. The Pumpkin King notices her change in demeanor and waves a hand to catch her attention again. "It's nothing to worry about, really. I'm fine. And the citizens get by perfectly well without me. I just enjoy being close with them, is all." She gives a forced smile, still feeling gloom from her thoughts. "Yes, that does sound good." He frowns and stares at her for a few moments. It pains him that the happiness is taken from her. And that was his fault, wasn't it? Oh, dear. He shouldn't have mentioned that at all. He finds her fidgeting with her hands in her lap and mentally decides he will get this girl to smile again. "Can I ask a question about you?" He asks. She looks up in disbelief. Was he really interested in knowing about her? "If you'd like, then of course..." "What do you like most about Halloween Town? From what you've seen and the people you've met, of course." She thinks about it. This place is wonderful, and there is nothing that bad about it. The people are friendly, the decorations are impressive, and they have such unique shops and foods. Though, something stands out from all of them. One particular person whom she loves that comes from such an amazing Town...who, undeniably, is her favorite thing among everything. Her eyes go half lidded as her heart speaks her words. "You..." She realizes what she is saying and her eyes snap open. Her phantom heart pounds in her ears as she goes to correct what she has said. "-r ruling!" She finishes. "The way you run the town is truly....admirable, Jack. Especially with all the work you have to do." She prays to a Halloween God that he can't see the blush growing rapidly on her clothed cheeks. She holds up a hand to her face to try and hide it. He looks very surprised still, and she knows she already blew her cover. But then he does something she doesn't expect - he relaxes his posture and scoots closer to her, to the point where there are only a few inches between them. "Thank you. I'm glad you found something to enjoy here. Halloween Town is very unique, and so are you, Sally. I have a feeling you'll fit in quite well here." Hope surfaces again in her chest. "You think so?" "Of course." She looks away from him and rubs the side of her arm. She is too flattered to think of words to say. The two of them have been complimenting each other left and right. She had only meant this to be a session to know more about him, yet now what she's learned that he wants her here. And he knows she'll fit in. "I should be paying the Doctor a visit sometime soon, don't you think?" She perks up at his question, sitting up attentively. "What for?" "To make sure he doesn't get any ideas with you. Ensure everything is alright there, and all. I have some others matters with him, anyway." He pauses and adds, "-If I remember right, you once asked me if you'd ever see me there again." He rests his hand on his lap and, for a moment, their arms brush against one another. "-Well, now you will."   She can't begin to describe the exhilaration she's experiencing. She has to hold back tears of joy as she tells him, "I'll look forward to your visit, Jack..." The thin man looks over at her curiously, finding she's no longer making eye contact. But he can tell just by the sound of her voice that she's relieved. His next trip to the Doctor's might be a little different, but at least he knows someone will be glad of his company. After awhile, he nods. "I think I will, too." Their voices eventually fade into silence. They continue to sit there, bathing in the comfortable yet cold atmosphere. It's clear, on a physical note, that they no longer mind each other's company. As for Sally, she relishes it. And as for Jack, this is the first time in years he's felt so relaxed in such a stressful time. He has only his new friend to thank for that. He looks over and finds her staring at him. She doesn't look away this time, and neither does he. Then, they both smile. She finds peace and consolation in his; he finds something refreshing and new in hers.

[milk-karton-kids]

Return to the Winchester Mansion

Hey! This is a short fic I wrote based off the season premiere of BFU Supernatural Season 5!

Pairing: Shyan

Headcannon: Shyan, Demon Shane

Rating: PG (so far)

Word count: 5K (so far)

Read it on Wattpad: ^-^

Read it here:

The Winchester Mansion. The very first place Shane and Ryan had ever investigated, and the place where Shane had first decided that he had wanted to do this- ghost hunting or whatever- with Ryan for as long as they could. The crew had drove to the location from their office in LA, the van crammed full of people and filming equipment.

They were all chatty, cracking jokes, sharing embarrassing stories and making fun of each other. They stopped for dinner at a McDonalds, and as a result, the van smelled like fried food for the rest of the drive. At one point, Ryan and Shane had started throwing fries at the people in the front seats.

By nightfall, the crew reached the location. Through the window, Shane could see the sprawling mansion once again, and it reminded him of his first impression of it, and how touristy it was. The van pulled up and the crew piled out, and started to unload the equipment. Grateful to stretch his long legs, Shane walked around a bit.

He made his way over to Ryan as the crew started to set up.

"Are you ready?"

Ryan looked up into Shane's eyes, and Shane tried to push the feeling of his gut tightening away.

"No, but we're going to do this anyway."

Shane shot him a grin, and together they made their way up the sidewalk.

Standing outside the front door, they both took a moment to gaze at the giant maze of rooms.

"Back where it all began," Ryan said. "Back to the spot where we started ghoul hunting."

"We came as boys, and now we return as men," Shane added.

"I'm happy to be back. It is dressed up for Halloween right now, so that's going to add a little bit of spooky fun to it."

"Yeah, but that makes it almost better, cause, Jack-o-lanterns, everybody loves 'em, right?"

"You have anything to say to her, Shane? The lady of the house?"

Shane had a lot to say, just not to Sarah Winchester.

"Yeah, let's tango baby! Let's dance!"

Except there was someone he'd rather be tangoing and dancing with.

Shane didn't really know when it started- the feeling of solidarity between Ryan and him. He'd been invited onto Buzzfeed Unsolved after the first few episodes of True Crime had been filmed, only knowing Ryan as a friendly coworker. However, in the Buzzfeed industry, that was still fairly well.

Shane enjoyed conspiracy theories as much as the next person. He loved mystery- and he loved taking down ridiculous claims. He also liked to take down not-so-ridiculous claims, like the fact that ghosts were real (true, he'd met a fair few) and demons existed (also true, he was living proof of that).

He also enjoyed hiding this truth from Ryan as best as he could. There was something thrilling about walking on the edge, knowing that one mistake, one slip-up, could possibly ruin everything between him and Ryan. And whatever that was, Shane wanted more of it.

Reflecting on this, Shane followed Ryan into the house.

"Man, it does feel like we're coming back home," Ryan said in earnest.

"Yeah I do feel... I feel right being here."

Probably because this is where all my feelings started to manifest, Shane thought to himself.

They shut the door behind them.

"Well, in case any of you needed a reminder, this place is a twisting nightmare."

Did you mean: My feelings for you? Shane asked in his head.

Together they walked down a dark hallway, the camera crew behind them.

Ryan had a flashlight out, and started speaking to the darkness.

"Hello? Just so all of you know in this house, we've been here before, my name is Ryan..."

"Uh, my name's Shane," Shane jumped in, startling out of his thoughts.

"And, uh, we're just here to talk, so if you wanna just come out, maybe show yourself-"

"-You know, just chill here, and hang out with us!"

"Yeah. Oh great, I'm already lost."

Shane repressed a snicker, but his eyes were darting over Ryan's back, taking in his slight build and unsteady posture. He could tell Ryan was already scared. Good. Shane liked Ryan when Ryan was scared.

They joked around a bit more before heading to the area they would film the main segments about the history and lore of the house, and of course, where Ryan would say "This week on the season premiere of Buzzfeed Unsolved, we re-investigate the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose California as part of our ongoing investigation into the question 'Are ghosts real?'" to which Shane would shake his head as the scene cut to him.

They pulled up two chairs in a rather cluttered room, set them next to each other, facing slightly inward, while the camera crew set up their equipment.

Ryan started going through his script, talking about how this was the first site they'd been to, and about how tonight "We're actually going to sleep here this time, uh, I was a little too chicken for that," (in talking about when they visited before).

Shane gave an awkward little chuckle.

"We're going to sleep individually, too," Ryan added, jerking a thumb in Shane's direction.

"I love it," Shane lied.

"So you'll actually sleep tonight-"

"-I'll get a great night's sleep-"

"-I won't, probably, I'm going to be in her bedroom, trying very hard to, eh, not die," Ryan chuckled. "I think I'm just gonna count-"

"What's she gonna do?" interjected Shane.

"I don't know!" Ryan shrugged, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"She's just gonna rip out your spine?" Shane definitely had not daydreamed about doing that to Ryan before. "The worst she'll do is give you a little kiss on the cheek or something." Like I want to.

"I'm trying to challenge myself mentally this season," Ryan said, directing his attention back towards the camera. "Because last season-"

"A little too cocky," Shane interjected, lacing his fingers together and leaning back. He was ready to see Ryan start freaking out again. He missed it.

"I got a little too, uh, calloused."

"Yeah. You stopped believing in ghosts, I think," Shane provoked.

"I did not stop believing in ghosts-"

"-Maybe-"

"-I'm used to hunting ghouls after a while-"

"-if you really believed in them, you'd still be pretty scared, but-"

"Anyways, let's break down some history, huh?"

"Yeah," Shane said, looking away.

"You ready?" Ryan asked, prompting a transition in the final video cut, but also, it seemed to Shane, noticing that there was something on Shane's mind. He had slipped a little, and it was noticeable.

"Oh yeah!" Shane answered enthusiastically, nodding.

"Then let's get into it."

"Okay."

They waited a bit for the camera to stop filming, and then put the chairs back.

"Ready to start walking around?" Ryan asked.

Shane nodded, and they started to make their way to the hay house. Up the switch-back stairs they went, camera rolling, into the attic, which Shane immediately recognized.

"Well, we're back," Ryan said cheerfully.

"The Ghoul Brothers," Shane said.

There was a moment of silence.

"We've upgraded to Ghoul Brothers, now?" Ryan joked, shining the flashlight on Shane's face. He pretended to cringe from the brightness so Ryan would move the light off his face and hopefully not notice the blush he could feel creeping into his cheeks.

"Yeah," was all Shane said.

Ryan moved around and settled into a spot for the moment.

"Whoever lived in the house, or may be in this house now, or in the past, we know this was one of the more, original, places when this place was first built, and not uh, uuh, a weird little fun house that it is now. Now that you know that we know who you are..."

"But do they know that we know that..."

"They know that we know-"

"-that we know who they are?"

There was a pause.

"That's the trick," Shane smiled, shining the flashlight in Ryan's now-confused (but adorable) face.

Shane squatted down, and Ryan, after questioning, it, followed suit.

"If there's anyone in here with us, let us know. Say something."

The two of them waited for whatever would or wouldn't say something.

Shane could already tell that there were no ghosts in the room at the moment.

"Twenty seconds."

Shane's face screwed up, and Ryan noticed.

"You think something's funny?" he asked.

Shane's composure broke and he let out a small chuckle, saying "I like how you give them a little warning, 'Twenty seconds left, get your shit together'."

Shane got up and Ryan mumbled something he couldn't quite understand. Ryan called out a "buh-bye!" as they started to exited the room. "That was dissapointin- Ah!"

Ryan startled at a fake black bird that'd suddenly be caught in his flashlight beam. Upon realizing what it was, he laughed nervously and put a hand up to his forehead only to then bend over and place his hands on his knees. "Ah, shit."

Meanwhile Shane was laughing.

"Well that's going to happen a couple of times tonight," Ryan admitted. "Just, there's, there's Halloween stuff around, we got, a crow, or a raven-?"

"It's Ryan's biggest fear."

Ryan laughed again, and they headed back down the switch-back stairs.

From there, Ryan led them to some of the more visually popular places in the building, like the stairs that lead to nowhere, the door that opened to reveal a bricked-up wall, and the door that lead to a drop since it was a few stories up.

"One of the, uh, greater novelties of this home, if you want to call it that," Ryan said, looking out the door and then into Shane's phone's camera. "Except this novelty could kill you, so..."

Ryan leaned over and looked down.

"It really goes there," Shane commented.

"Ooooh," Ryan said, making a spooky noise.

"Yeah, careful, man," Shane titted. He knew he could survive a drop like that, but Ryan? Ryan was just human, and human shells were frail.

"I just don't think any ghost is going to open this door and be like 'woeoeoeow' and fall out like Wild E Coyote."

God, Ryan was so cute.

"'Going to ghost work, honey, see you la-wooooah, not again!" Shane jumped in.

Ryan laughed, and Shane felt that all-too-familiar tugging sensation in his gut.

Together with the crew, they walked around the house some more, getting some extra footage of the house to show while Ryan's voice over played.

Through this transition in Ryan's narrative, it would bring the audience to the seance room next, and therefore was where they headed after gathering some more footage of random rooms and hallways.

The walls of the seance room were made of long and thin wooden panels that were painted a light whitish color, though it was hard to tell in the dark with only flashlights. There were a number of iron hooks on the walls, and also a fair amount of doors. And, for the season, there were also many spooky Halloween decorations about.

Ryan talked about their visit to this room last time they were there, and Shane commented on how they weren't as good ghost hunters back then as they were now. Personally, Shane felt like at least a good portion of that improvement had come from working together over the years.

"But now, we're actually going to conduct a legitimate seance!"

"Let's rock and roll!" cheered Shane.

Ryan started to set up the ouija board, which Shane attempted to help with, but Ryan was in a very particular mood, and didn't want Shane "messing up" the set-up, even though last time they used one Ryan had to google how it was done.

You would think as a demon, I would know how it's set up, and therefore you'd let me set it up, Shane thought to himself, because of course he couldn't say it out loud.

When Ryan was done setting up the board, allowing Shane to add his rice krispie treat to "appease" the spirits (Shane knew ghost didn't like food, but demons who inhabited a human host did), Shane pulled up two chairs on either side of the table.

The camera was set up so that Ryan would be in the left of the shot and Shane would be on the right.

Ryan held out his hands on either side of the board towards Shane.

Shane copied him.

"Let's do it."

Shane flipped his hands over and slapped them down into Ryan's. Thankfully Shane had grown used to controlling bodily functions of his host, so his hands weren't freezing cold. Also thankfully while his body slept, his mind did not, so he was able to maintain body heat when Ryan and him shared a bed. Which was kind of a lot.

"Alright, that was a firm grip," Ryan commented, to Shane's amusement.

"Okay, spirits of this room, we're here to communicate with you-"

"Yes."

"We are welcoming-"

"Yes."

"And we, uh, have nothing but good intentions and good vibes-"

"Yeah."

"We have some, uh, food for you, here-

"A rice krispie treat, a treat from the future."

"-we also, uh, have this uh, this, this, board here, in fact, why don't I just show you how it works."

Ryan grabbed the planchette, letting go of Shane's hands, started moving it around the board.

"See?"

"You see that? Oooooh look how fun that is!"

"Hello, H-e-l-l-o."

"Ooooh, cool," Shane responded, looking deviously into the camera. He could move it, but so far over the seasons he'd liked to take things slow, only making a few things move or speak here and there. Nothing to give Ryan substantial proof of ghost, or in this case, demons.

"I'm going to move the rice krispie treat off the board so it doesn't get sticky," Ryan said aloud, putting it on the table, where Shane immediately picked it up, taking a bite as he stared into Ryan's eyes.

"That's for them."

"See how that works?" Shane put the rice krispie treat down. "I just want them to know it's food."

He leaned back and started to dramatically rub his belly. "Mmmm! Yum-yum!"

Ryan lost his composure, and Shane started to laugh along with him. It felt good.

"Alright, here we go," Ryan offered his hands again once the two of them had managed to settle down. "If there's anyone here with us, you can use this board, you can, uh, take some of the food, y-you can move these candles, you can say something, you can touch something-"

"This is all for you."

They paused for a few seconds.

"Sarah, if you're hearing us right now, we'd like to speak to you in particular, so, uh, I'd like it very much to meet you."

"Have some of the rice krispie."

Ryan and Shane continued to hold hands around the table in silence.

"Can you say your name?"

Another pause.

"Is there anything you'd like us to know?"

More silence.

"Is there anything you're scared of?"

There was still no response.

"Well, that's that," Ryan conceded, disappointed, and broke the connection with Shane, who clapped his hands loudly.

"Nothing," Ryan sighed while Shane reached for the rice krispie treat and ate the rest in one large bite, wiping his hands while once again maintaining eye-contact with Ryan, then folding his hands out towards Ryan. Ryan started to laugh, and Shane was happy he'd made Ryan feel even a little better.

The next room they headed to was some room full of glass. Shane didn't really understand why it was here, but the whole house was weird, and he was a gay demon, so he didn't question it too much.

"Well, Sarah, we're here, in your, well, what I would assume is one of your more, uh, favorite rooms."

"And if you're thinking 'Well, I'm not gonna talk to these guys', please, no, we're gonna be here all night! The sooner you, uh, get it out of the way, heck, if you do it now, this guy will go, he'll go runnin'," Shane teased.

"Whoever is in this room, whether it be Sarah or someone who worked in this mansion, let us know you're here."

"Shatter every piece of stained glass in this room," challenged Shane.

"Okay," Ryan responded, trying to rope him back in. "I'm going to give you a minute," he continued talking to the ghosts, "just uh, just uh, dealer's choice here, do whatever you want. Here we go, one minute of silence coming up, starting now."

Shane had a flashlight in one hand, which he shone on Ryan and his phone attached to the gopro in the other. Ryan had his own flashlight and a microphone attached to a box-shaped gadget. Strapped to both their chests were cameras.

Shane took his light off Ryan and used it to film around the room in the dark.

"I will say that I don't feel like I'm being watched right now." Ryan was looking directly into Shane's face, so Shane's camera angle was coming from a bit underneath Ryan's gaze.

"No?" he asked.

Ryan started to shake his head, and Shane started to ask if he had felt anything in other places when a noise caught their attention, and Ryan's head whipped to the side.

"Who was that? Who just spoke?"

Shane glanced down at his phone screen before flicking his eyes back up to Ryan, who was looking around in bewilderment. Uncomfortable, he started to laugh nervously, which caused Shane to laugh at him.

"That old familiar face."

Ryan continued to laugh.

He had missed that face.

Shane made sure to capture the moment with his gopro.

Ryan dropped the creepy face with a sigh. "If that was anybody, can you say it again?"

Ryan blinked heavily and asked who had said something.

"I heard what sounded like a little whisper," Shane told him, pronouncing the "h" in "whisper" clearly.

"Yeah-"

"Did you hear a little whisper?"

"Yeah, are you, I just, I think you're appeasing me right now, I don't think you actually heard anything."

"It's a little bit of both, I did hear what appeared to sound like a little whisper." He was still pronouncing the "h". "I don't think it was a ghost," he clarified.

"It was a female voice," Ryan argued. "If there, whoever that was, can you say it again? If that was anybody, in fact?"

Shane had his flashlight trained on Ryan once more.

"You don't have to be scared of us, I assure you, I am more scared of you than you are of me."

Shane wondered how scared of him Ryan would be if he knew the truth.

Ryan took a step and continued to look around, but didn't seem to find anything.

"That's it, folks," Shane concluded.

"Very lovely glass-"

"Love the glass."

"-Thank you for showing us-"

"Nice glass."

"-that's some really good glass you got there."

"That's some good ass glass-"

"That's good glass behind that glass-"

"I'm gonna steal that glass."

They paused.

"I won't, I respect this house," Shane laughed.

Ryan laughed with him, even though Shane knew Ryan didn't get the full extent of his joke.

Together with the crew they exited the room, heading to what was known as "The Witch's Cap".

"Oh this is cool!" Shane exclaimed upon seeing it. "Oh, oh I love this! Can I sleep here? Stand in the middle, speak upward," he commanded Ryan.

"Hello- oh! Oooh!"

"Yeah, right there, right?"

"Yeah, that is good."

"Alright let's see if I can also- hello? Hello? Hello?"

"Yeah."

"Hi?"

Ryan shot Shane a glance, but Shane continued to mess around with the acoustics of the room until Ryan practically dragged him away to sit on a bench.

"Uh, we're here to communicate with whoever is in this room right now-"

"He's invited his little spirit box here, he's gonna let it rip and you're gonna hate it," Shane assured. The high level of frequencies and constant shifting channels gave him a headache.

"Three, two, one-"

"YAHTZEE!"

Ryan turned it on, cringing at the suddenly onset of noise and letting out a swear, messing with the settings until something clearly said "drop those off".

Shane glanced at Ryan and asked if it said "take your clothes off".

Ryan ignored him while the spirit box continued it's chatter, which Shane also commented on.

"What the fuck is going on in this room?" Ryan finally acknowledged after putting in earbuds.

"Can you say our names back to us?" Shane asked, knowing that was one of Ryan's go-to questions. Ryan titled his head down to fiddle with the box again, and it gave a short pause. "What was that?" he asked, looking up at Shane.

"Can you say the name of the woman who built this house?" asked Ryan. "Or, if you are the woman who built this house, can you say your name?"

The spirit box spat out some chunks of noise, but nothing either of them could discern, until-

"Who is Patrick?"

Ryan and Shane looked at each other. "It sounded like 'Patrick'." Ryan commented.

"'Well I'm not Sarah Winchester, but, it's Patrick!'"

Ryan started to talk over a phrase that came through, stopping in time to clearly hear the word "ungrateful". "What was that?" Ryan asked, eyes widening. "Alright, who was just speaking the past two times? It was very clear. Can you say what your name is?"

The spirit box spat out more nonsense.

"What?"

"Optimal."

"Optimal?" Shane repeated.

"What's optimal?" Ryan asked.

They waited.

"You're not making this easy, I'll tell you that-" Ryan started to say more, but what sounded like a scream interrupted him.

"Ooh a scream-"

"What the fuck was that?"

"-They're excited Ryan." Shane turned his head towards the camera. "Don't bother with Ryan right now, not worth it, wait 'til he's alone."

A deep voice came on.

"Woah," Ryan blinked.

"What'd it say?"

"I don't know."

Shane started to laugh and make fun of Ryan's reaction.

"Well it was a full sentence-"

"It wasn't a full sentence!"

"It was like three words!"

Shane started to imitate the spirit box to mock Ryan. "Wooooah, a whole sentence!"

"It said like two-to-three words!"

Shane continued making spirit box noises.

The box, meanwhile, said something along the lines of "Okay, kid." Ryan looked up at Shane, but Shane was watching his phone screen as it filmed.

"Alright," Ryan said, "Hasta luego, turning this off." Ryan looked at Shane again.

"Well, I'll tell you what, ghosts, if any of you are protective of this room, not gonna do it on purpose, but there's a good chance I'm gonna fart in here."

Ryan continued to stare at Shane before suggesting they move to the next filming location, the basement.

When they got to the top of the basement stairs, the crew started pulling out the equipment the duo would need for their solo investigations. This included, among other things, a camera strapped to their head, pointed at their faces. As was custom, Shane was up first.

"You look great, man" Ryan commented sarcastically when Shane was fully decked-out and ready to head into the dark of the basement by himself.

"Thank you! What do I do down there?"

"Try and find Clyde," Ryan said. Clyde was a ghost he would introduce the audience to in his voice-over section.

"Ooh."

"Well, adios," Ryan bid him.

"Yeah, I'll see you later, man," Shane called back, heading down the stairs. Ryan closed the door behind Shane, turning to lean back on it, arms crossed. "And now we wait."

Meanwhile, Shane walked around in the basement yelling for Clyde.

"Ooh boy, I forgot about these low ass ceilings down here." Shane tried to duck but ended up knocking some of the equipment off his head.

Ryan stayed upstairs talking to the camera crew while Shane walked around to conduct his personal investigation.

After his ten minutes was up, Ryan opened the door and called him back, but Shane didn't answer.

"I'm not playing your game. I know exactly what you're doing right now. Not gonna happen, bud. I'm not going to come walkin' down there to find you. I know what happened last time I was down here."

Defeated, Shane returned back up to the main level of the house, where Ryan would take his place.

"Well you look great, you look ready. Get down there, have a good time!" Shane coaxed Ryan when they had traded gear. Ryan started to head downstairs, and Shane turned to the camera to pull a face.

When he got downstairs, Ryan started to talk to the darkness and Shane continued to talk to the camera.

"What if I just make nonsense noises right now?" Ryan asked the ghosts, proceeding to do so.

"What the fuck is going on down there?" Shane asked the camera. He heard more strange nonsense noises from downstairs. "I think we've lost him," Shane cracked a smile.

"Ah! What the fuck was that? My fucking gopro thing fell off... I think I'm going to sit down, I'm sitting down."

"This sounds like it's really escalating," Shane commented.

"I'm going to turn on the spirit box now."

"There's that spirit box."

"I. Hate. This."

"Did he say 'I love you'?"

"My name is Ryan, can you say my name back to me?"

"'I love you' 'Who's this?'"

Ryan continued to talk to the spirit box. Shane peaked his head into the stairwell.

"RYAN!"

"What?"

"TWO MINUTE WARNING!"

"Great."

Ryan continued to talk to the darkness.

"Alright he can't do two minutes, come up!" Shane called, opening the door again.

"What?"

"You FAILED."

"Could I come up?"

"Yes!" Shane barked.

"Oh, thank god," Ryan replied almost cheerily. "Yes," he whispered, coming up the stairs.

"You couldn't do two minutes of silence, could ya?"

"Wha?"

"I heard you talking."

"I was talking quietly."

"I don't care. You talk to hide from the silence."

Ryan sighed.

"You know you do."

"I was merely trying to communicate."

Shane rolled his eyes.

"Get ready for an all-night nightmare now."

The crew moved to the witch's cap to set up the cameras that would be trained on Shane as he slept for the few remaining hours of the night. When all was set up, Shane laid out his sleeping bag.

Ryan came over to stand above him.

"Are you going to make it?" Shane joked.

Ryan shrugged. "Uh, I dunno."

"Well, you're welcome to come running here crying like a little baby if you need."

"Thanks man, but I think I'm good."

That didn't stop Ryan from writing down directions from the witch's cap to Sarah's bedroom, however.

When the crew was done setting up for Ryan in there, they wished him luck and headed out to sleep in the motel they'd booked.

Shane had his phone out and filmed a little vlog before attempting to go to sleep. Ryan filmed around the room and also him using the spirit box.

After fooling around on social media for a bit and singing "Mama Mia" to himself, Shane put his phone down and zipped up his sleeping bag to let his body catch up on rest. Ryan got a surprise visitor from the caretaker, which scared the shit out of him.

Shane had been waiting to see if Ryan would come running into his room, scared of something or another, looking for comfort. In fact, it was what he'd been dreaming about all day. Now that the time was right, however, Shane wasn't having his moment.

"It was foolish to think anything would happen," Shane whispered to himself, and shut his eyes.

He heard a creak.

Sitting up on one elbow, Shane looked around.

"Ryan?" he whispered.

There was no response.

Shane took one more sweep of the room with his eyes before settling down again.

Another creak had him sitting up again.

"Ryan!" he hissed.

He heard soft footsteps approaching.

Grabbing the flashlight, Shane shined it down the hall. Ryan cringed from the sudden bright light.

"What are you doing?" Shane whispered.

"I got scared," Ryan admitted.

Shane rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Ryan shrugged, and Shane noticed he had his sleeping bag with him.

"Come on," Shane motioned, moving his sleeping bag over.

Ryan put his stuff down next to Shane and crawled back into his sleeping bag.

"Are we putting this in the video?" Shane asked jokingly.

"No," Ryan sniffed.

"Wait, are you- are you crying?"

"No," Ryan sniffed again.

"Damn, something must have really scared you, huh?" Shane asked.

Ryan didn't respond.

"Ryan?"

Shane heard Ryan sniffle again. He wasn't sure what to do, so he waited. However, so did Ryan.

"You don't want to talk about it?"

"I didn't get scared," Ryan said quickly, and Shane realized he was telling the truth. Something else was going on that he didn't understand. Something that didn't have to do with the house, with ghosts, with the show, maybe not even to do with them. Maybe something had happened and it just happened to be now, and Shane just happened to be the only one around. Maybe Ryan just needed a friend.

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Shane."

"Goodnight, Ryan."

Neither of them went back to sleep.

*-*-*-*-*

When morning came, Ryan and Shane broke down the cameras themselves and brought the equipment to the front door, where they were meeting the crew. It was still dark outside, and they stood in the early morning chill filming the ending of the video.

"Another investigation in the books, uh, adios, Winchester House," Ryan spun his phone around trying to get the house in the shot behind them. "Where- where even is it?" A car horn honked in the background.

"It's behind us-"

"I can't even, I can't even think."

"-it's pretty large."

"Yeah, uh. Yeah. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah," Shane agreed. "Sounds good."

The crew packed up the equipment while Shane and Ryan climbed into the back of the van. Ryan was still filming the view from out Shane's window.

"Are we going to talk about last night?" Shane asked, looking at what Ryan was filming, everything that had led up to Ryan laying down next to him running through his head like a video on loop.

"Maybe later," Ryan answered, stopping the video and turning off his phone as the crew piled in and drove away.

[comfort-blankets]

*Scenario*

@bootyshakerkegrimm

Could you do scenario with Junkrat and Zenyatta who notice that their s/o is in a lot of pain, yet keeps on working even though it's starting to effect their work?

Aah I love Zenyatta! This is my first time writing for him so it may suck a little bit, but hopefully you enjoy it deary <33

I’m thinking about changing my icon to Zenyatta, maybe even one with him wearing a flower crown, but I can’t seem to find the perfect picture anywhere.

Anyways, tell me if it isn’t long enough or if I didn’t quite portray them correctly, because I’m all ears to constructive criticism!

Zenyatta:

It always begins with the gentle touch on your shoulder. He has no perception of how it is to feel, but he knows that the tissue there may not be agreeing with you. Here you are, bent over this desk with your terrible posture you always pretend you don’t have, pen scribbling away on your latest project. Work is hard, they’re being too rough on you. At this point even Satya asks if you have received enough sleep to be well enough for a bigger day tomorrow, Jack insists that you go eat dinner with the rest of the team.

But paperwork needs to be done, and the alerting thought of knowing it isn’t blares in your brain until it is completed.

This includes leaving Zenyatta to feel isolated from you.

At first he thought it was just a small portion of time you’d be busy, reminding you to drink plenty of water and coming in often to ask if you want a break. This work that plagues you destroys your mind, and when he sees it his concern heightens greatly.

Although it is hard to break you from these papers, his persistence would soon accomplish something. It would have to, or else he just wouldn’t stop.

So when your eyes tear from a world of specifically particular events and how to logically solve them, you see that the beautiful sunset has left you, a portrait made of twinkling lights has settled above, and the one you care for has a very worried aura about him.

“You have not rested like I’d recommended earlier?”

Zenyatta’s voice is as calming as it always has been, already making your muscles relax and ache for sleep. You open your mouth to tell him that you have taken a few breathers, but quickly close it when you discover that you cannot lie to him. Your body has rested none today, it’s been working day and night, morning and evening.

You did not even bat an eyelash at the emphasized knowledge of what not drinking or eating could do. Not even a drop of the liquid that kept you alive was consumed, and in hurting yourself you hurt your loved one as well.

The worst part was that even if you did lie, he would know. “I have to finish this.” It was the last set of logical questioning when even you finally realized your brain could work no longer.

“Perhaps we should speak to your advisors?”

When Zenyatta offered to talk with someone, this was when things were growing a bit too serious for him to handle. It was unknown how a monotone, mechanical voice could sound so caring and worrisome, though perhaps it came with knowing him for such a long time. The hand on your shoulder took an unusual action from the past encounters with no longer keeping the regular stillness it held, intricate and well manufactured metal fingers tugging on your shirt.

Tekhartha Zenyatta could become impatient sometimes, but his tended to come out more with sadness than anger. You’ve only seen him the slightest bit peeved a handful of times, and amazingly he still manages to calm himself.

His blue eyes that were created to observe and calculate still shine even in your silence, but it’s easy to tell that it’s unnerving him.

“Please.”

You have never heard that tone before, and it makes a bit of fear spike up randomly from the depths of your mind.

His speech is stuck sounding calm and almost inspirational at all points in time, but the glitches in his voice box are not something of a problem with his gear.

This is his way of growing emotional. To cry.

Your back screams at you when you rise from the chair slowly, and despite the fact that Zenyatta has no tears to physically shed he hides his face with the other hand, looking down.

His hand has yet to stop clinging to your shirt.

As the glitches in his tone begin to come out with small whirring noises, he has reached his end emotionally. His shoulder gear shivers, knees looking unstable to keep him standing. You have been working much too hard, you have been hurting him while harming yourself. You have unlocked a weakness that you never want to find the key to again. So with this new found knowledge that even an omnic such as he could cry, you pull him to rest his face in your shoulder.

“Okay.”

And while you lay in bed that night, a warm mechanical body curled around the back of your own for the first time in a few weeks, you decide it feels nice to have a full stomach again.

Little engines working for things you could never understand whirr behind you. Your name is whispered with a dash of reverence.

“Hm?” Your tired body responds in the least dedicated way possible.

“Promise me you will not abuse the needs of your body again. I care for you deeply.”

A hand rests on your hip at this remark out of pure concern, nothing more.

Shifting around a bit, the covers over you make a soft shuffling noise as you turn around. Kissing was never a topic you really ever got on about, but Zenyatta could always see the importance of it to humans. So of course when your soft lips that he could only imagine being able to fully feel touch the metal plate of his forehead, a small puff of steam comes from his shoulders, causing you to laugh and have to wave the sheets in order to get the heavy oxygen away from your lungs.

“I promise.”

Junkrat:

You’ve been promising Junkrat something, and you feel that you may not be able to keep doing this particular activity anymore.

You work incredibly hard, almost harder than Winston does whenever he finds something interesting that he wants to study for the time being.

For the time being.

This is when you start to have differences in capacity of working.

Of course, you have no choice when it comes to doing these loads of paperwork in a short time frame, because your advisors have told you plentiful times otherwise whenever you ask them to give you a break.

Junkrat is not helping.

At least his buddy Mako (Are they buddies? Not even you knew at this point, though the giant man seemed to have no issue with you) was trying to distract the messy man from getting his ashy fingerprints all over your papers. Jamison isn’t stupid though, and never will be. He can only take so much with being away from you, and it kind of concerns him how long you sit in one place. His worry is always exposed in very different ways than the usual pep talk from others, trying to get your attention to make you focus on something else or joke around until you laugh. What frustrates him is the fact that you always end up telling him to go away politely at some point, explaining that your boss will be upset if you don’t get some ungodly amount of papers on his desk by tomorrow.

It’s been 2 weeks since you did your little reading sessions with him, since he seemed to love it whenever you spoke of mythical beasts or actions in the making of the mind before bed. He loved the sound of turning pages, never finding himself into reading books until he discovered that he could make you laugh from giving all of the characters funny voices. Sure, his grammar wasn’t that great and sometimes you needed to tell him what a word was several times in a row, but at least he was trying.

Jamison especially missed falling asleep to the smooth/gravelly sound of your voice, something to chase away his nightmares about where he was years ago, his missing limbs and phantom pains.

A book was laid on your desk by ragged and skinny fingers.

You can’t even be bothered to read the title, boring words from other papers ruining the thought of reading anymore than you had to already. The cover seemed rather magical, waves of sparkles and purple across a midnight sky, something you may see a preteen girl reading. You remember a long time ago of Jamison making you promise not to make fun of him or ever tell anybody about his guilty pleasure of lighthearted books. Perhaps the simple plots and happy endings made him forget about the real world.

This time, there are no words or funny antics shared between the two of you, and it’s one of those rare instances that Jamison looks strangely melancholy.

“Jamie?”

His face tightens into a sort of childlike pout, but those dark eyes keep looking downwards. He doesn’t do it often, but it seems that he’s scrubbed himself clean to avoid your scolding in the morning of the white sheets being ruined again. Hell, he’s even taken the time to dress himself in proper sleepwear.

“Stop that.” 

It’s blunt and direct, much different from the way he clowns around the room, pulling boring books off your shelf and threatening to replace them all with little bang snaps one day. Both of you are stressed, and although for different reasons, Jamison is the first one who wants it to stop.

“Stop hurting yourself.”

When you finally get onto the bed, the tall explosive man that has been labeled as one of the most dangerous criminals in the world lays his upper body in your lap. Despite being a person of jagged body shapes, he looks a lot more soft like this, curled up like a child.

Your tired hands open the book he recommended to the first page, reading much slower than usual from the eyestrain earlier today of boring black letters against pale white paper. There’s something calming about reading a regular book rather than a strict syllabus on what you’ll be expected to do in your next project. Nothing to be memorized or to be taken too importantly, to write in your little agenda of what you’ll be doing on what day of the week on what week of the month. Just a smooth sailing story of a young girl riding a boat in her dreams, on a mission to find her lost stuffed tiger that she loved so dearly. You get so invested in the simplicity of it that you reach the end of the chapter book, the magical undertone leaving to form a heartwarming denouement when it turns out that the toy was under her bed the entire time.

When the book finally closes, you see that the man has fallen asleep on your stomach, a bit of drool threatening to drip from his ajar lips. Peaceful, something you wouldn’t usually see from a man who bombs his enemies for a living. For a moment you wonder how much of the reading he’s been asleep for, and another for if he’ll beg you to read it over tomorrow because ‘it ain’t the same unless it’s your voice’.

You find that you don’t really mind the thought of doing so.

Perhaps you should take a break.

Please be sure to take care of yourselves, because there’s always someone out there who cares for you <3

[monstersarealwayshungryrpg-blog]

Congratulations Tasha! You have been accepted as The Hanged Man! (FC: Lindsey Morgan)

This was an incredible app, wonderfully written and perfectly capturing what we hoped to see for The Hanged Man. Emerson’s past especially was beautifully detailed and heartbreaking. We all honestly can’t wait to see what you’ll do with her next! Make sure to follow the checklist and send us your account within 48 hours! WELCOME TO THE ARCANA RING, TASHA. WE HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY.

Out Of Character Information

Name: Tasha Pronouns: She/Her Age: 19

In Character Information

Skeleton Applying for: The Hanged Man Faceclaim: Lindsey Morgan, Caitlin Stasey Character’s Full Name: Emerson de la Rosa Age: Twenty-seven Gender and Sexuality: Cisfemale & Bisexual

Character Bio:  ( tw death, murder, drugs, mentions of blood )

t h e  p a s t .

“they say that love makes you blind, but that’s not the case for me. if anything, my love is understanding. my love is clarity.”

ink bleeds through the pages of her storytelling medium, another line engraved with the handwriting of a failed author, pagination stained not only with penned words but with the lingering marks of spilled tears. writing had always been one of her multitude of aspirations, a jack-of-most trades who’d been told from the start that her purpose in life was clear; that success was a road paved by the trailblazers of tomorrow, and emerson de la rosa was raised to believe she’d be an innovator of her generation, destined to accomplish all that which her family had failed before her.

but perhaps that wasn’t the case, call it fate or karma or even the universe conspiring against her, but emerson’s life quickly became riddled with the trials and tribulations of love. of one woman in particular, nestled now in her cot, one whose bloodstained hands mosaicked porcelain sheets with dried crimson drawn, as she so claimed, from revenge.

unlucky for her, emerson was nothing like her characters, the levelled head on her shoulders couldn’t be matched by the shrill beating of her yearning heart, enticed by the very same anomaly of emotions which drove her father to become a conspiracist, constantly searching the globe for the young child’s mother, who had, by some unnatural force of enigma, vanished seemingly into thin air.

years later, when france police would finally uncover a body, floating along the bank of la seine, father would refuse to believe it. though he was a native brit with no knowledge of how france works he’d still claim it to be nothing more than a rouse of the monarchy staging a kidnap and “reprogramming” (as he’d so fondly call it) as a homicide, he’d abandoned his daughter in a foreign city in pursuit of the truth, only to repeat the cycle of disappearance, never to grace emerson’s presence again.

that’s when she met her, the woman in her bed, the one who’d offered her salvation in welcoming arms and cared for her for five years. hers was the spark which ignited emerson’s passion for writing, the muse for her relentless inspiration, and though she’d ignored all the warning signs and the foreshadowing ever evident even in her real life, emerson would soon find that the reverse hangman led to martyrdom, and that, it seemed, was the true destiny for those in the life she’d been granted.

but emerson was loyal to a fault, willing to sacrifice even her own happiness for the sake of love, and so when the mysterious woman confided in her the truth of her origin, that she, in fact, was in hiding from france government under a new alias not only for the crime of identity theft but, in fact, for murder, emerson didn’t bat an eye. her love would be a life reborn through sanction and safety, whereas emerson would blindly dial the police station, prepared to find herself behind bars, until it came to light that this one murder was not actually one murder but rather a string of murders, that the woman in her bed was a serial killer they’d been searching for years to find and finally, they had her. the very same woman who’d murdered emerson’s mother.

once the truth came out, the woman disappeared, and with it, any chance emerson had of redemption. because she’d already confessed to one. now the rest were implied, and her fate had been sealed.

but emerson knew nothing of criminal minds nor how to become one, and she knew even less about how to save herself, so she’d emulated the solution of the one she’d once loved and fled, too. before the police could arrive at her home and take her, ruin her. but that didn’t stop the news, nor the media, nor the stories of her apparent violent and psychopathic nature.

t h e  p r e s e n t .

that’s when emerson became emerson and was no longer rosalie martinez, when she’d learnt to master the art of identify theft and took it upon herself to immerse herself into a new life. a drug dealing life. truly, she had nothing left to lose, and though rumours of the great Red Rose Killer (as they so kindly referred to her these days) ran rampant through the cobblestone alleyways of paris, emerson never could quite fathom the ability to take someone else’s life. but she had the quick mind for dealing, for secrecy, sneaking, darting under the radar of the law.

hers was the time of resurrection, when twenty five year old girl would learn how to stay alive in a time of corruption, no longer the naive, innocent child riddled with the complexities of infatuation and yet she can’t help the way her heart tugs for something more, calling out for a love to replace the one she thought she had. now, though, it’s been two, loveless years, an era dedicated to the distribution of illicit substances and the furtherance of her criminal agenda, of acquiring some bit of wealth to draw her out of poverty and starvation. finally, she’d found solace under the guise of criminal intentions and is determined to prove herself worthy to The World, the one who’d picked her off the streets and gave her a life after the death of her prior self. maybe now she’s not completely the same, but. she’s a survivor. and after all, that’s really the most she can do anymore.

t h e  p e r s o n a l i t y .

loving is easy and natural, emerson claims, though she tends to throw herself prematurely into connections with those who could fatally harm her. she wants nothing more than to succeed in this new world of crime, just as she had some years ago, and desperately seeks the world’s approval as the mentor her father should’ve been. she’s determined, cautiously optimistic and quick on her feet, though she’s been hardened from some time on the streets she refrains from resorting to violence unless completely necessary. her heart is pure though recently her morals have become quite fluid, but she’s learning to adapt and can be quite versatile. however, she’s arguably still naive in many respects and has a hard time letting go of the past traumas that may haunt her. emerson definitely lacks self confidence at times, albeit she’s anything but defenseless. she’s competent enough to protect herself, though usually relies heavily on her quick wit to get her out of tricky scenarios. all in all, she’s just a lost girl desperate to survive, seeking homes in the form of people and eager to prove to everybody that she’s much less than the girl who ruined her life for someone who could never love her in return.

Extra: i don’t have photoshop so i usually refrain from making graphics and the like, and my character’s tag will come if i get accepted and as i play/get a feel for her character more! however, i have a few headcanons i can list;

i imagine her father had always been a conspiracist, though this hobby grew into an obsession following his wife’s disappearance. part of why emerson is so well-read and adaptable is because he was constantly prepping her for the worst case scenarios, all these fantasy possibilities in his head that would require for her to survive, and though emerson never believed them to be true, she always had an overactive imagination and, as a kid, entertained herself by reading shelves full of her father’s conspiracy novels.

she keeps a knife and pepper spray hidden somewhere on her person at all times, though she’s never used the former before, the pepper spray definitely came in handy one a few too many times. she refuses to keep a gun consistently with her, though, because she has no trust in her ability to utilize it properly, and is too petrified of fatally wounding someone under the guise of self-defence.

for the most part, emerson tries to use as many all-natural, cruelty-free products as possible. this is especially the case in her hobbies, where she will craft her own pastels and paints for artwork, as well as scavenging for recycled papers to use for writing. anything to help the environment in some form or fashion, even given her financial status and limited accessibility to resources.

emerson’s family owned a ranch back in england, and she had a black shire horse named acacia, a massive horse who she’d insist on riding despite being so young and small. following the discovery of her mother’s body, they sold the ranch, and emerson was forced to abandon her horse, but she keeps a picture of the two of them together in a keepsake box with some other belongings.

along those lines, emerson was an independent child growing up, and refused to participate in group curricular. instead, she took much more to horseback riding and archery. in fact, she’s still a very skilled archer to this day, though she doesn’t quite flaunt it, and only dabbles with archery as a means of both focusing as well as directing her concentration

Anything Else: i think that’s about it, lovelies! i hope everything okay, and of course, contact me if there’s anything you’d like clarification for! thanks so much for your consideration, and the roleplay looks amazing, you guys should be super proud! <3

[ryanonwrasslin-blog]

The Wrestling Optimist - March 16, 2017

Welcome to my weekly, mostly optimistic, look at the wonderful world of professional wrestling. This came about because I’m working my hardest to stop being such a miserable smark, and this column is my best effort at both keeping myself honest and funneling out the various thoughts I have on wrestling. For the most part, this will be a WWE-themed piece every week, and it’s still evolving, but for now I think I’ve found a solid format. I urge you to join me in being a happier wrestling fan, whatever that may mean to you!

Theme of the Week All of the authority figures on the main roster are TERRIBLE at their jobs

In some ways, this is all Vince McMahon's fault. The standard for manipulative, overbearing authority figures was set with Vince vs. Stone Cold, and ever since then WWE has been trying to recapture that magic, forever sticking to the idea of pitting the authority figure against one or more of the top wrestlers on the show, and usually shuffling them around the card like they do with other feuding superstars. They even go so far as to feud face authority figures against heel wrestlers, which is SUPER tricky to do and rarely ever works well except to make the heel look like the face.

But let's stick to kayfabe for a moment. On Raw this week, Stephanie McMahon, rather than devote her time and energy toward building to Wrestlemania and making sure that Raw actually, you know, is watchable for a change, tells Mick Foley that he has to fire one superstar. Mick, rightfully, is like, "Da Fuck?" and points out that, again, THEY ARE THREE WEEKS FROM WRESTLEMANIA and this is not an ideal time to fire anyone. She insists and he wanders around backstage in a daze for the next two and a half hours. And at the end of the night, after reviewing a roster that includes Curtis Axel, R-Truth, Primo, Epico, Sin Cara, Titus O'Neil, and like 4 cruiserweights I wouldn't recognize if they hit me with their finisher, tells Steph that SHE'S the one who he's firing.

Homie, if you were gonna go the self-sabotage route, why not fire like Cesaro or Sami Zayn so that Smackdown could sign one of them and they'd be free from the plodding march toward permanent mid-card status that is their career on Raw? That actually would have popped me and gotten me interested in the direction they were going with a story. But no, Foley "fires" Steph, which shortly summons Triple H, who does all but fire Mick, which was whatever, eats a Sock-O for his trouble and then "re-injures" or whatever a returning Seth Rollins, you know, one of their biggest superstars, THREE WEEKS BEFORE THE MANIA OF WRESTLING.

Alright, everyone calm? No? Well, at least I can skip the Let The Smark Out segment this week, because Smackdown Live, incredibly enough, was possibly even worse in terms of terrible authority figures, even if they at least serve a purpose beyond "Gotta get Steph and Hunter over."

So, there are two feuds on Smackdown Live that touch on Shane O'Mac and Daniel Bryan. The first, obviously, is AJ Styles vs. Shane. I'm going to skip the part about the build because it's covered below in my best moments of the week. But again, in kayfabe, AJ Styles absolutely has a point. That opening promo was like a fired-up babyface, pointing out all the ways he was wronged, and none of them are actually false or embellished or delusional, like you'd hope they'd be from a heel. Instead, he gets the crowd on his side and then goes to the back to wait for Shane O'Mac because he blames him for the conspiracy against AJ. And Shane, for some reason, on a two hour show that presumably required significant time preparing for in advance, doesn't arrive until we're like an hour in. Huh? Was dude just concerned about the non-title tag match and 205 Live (of which he's not an authority figure) going off without a hitch? Wrestling doesn't always have to hold up to intense scrutiny, but you should be able to at least think through the basics of a plotline without furrowing your brow. And if the story was, "Shane's a McMahon and doesn't have to give a shit about this job," then maybe they'd be onto something. But it's not, so they're not.

But I digress. Shane shows up, AJ beats his ass something fierce, to which the crowd cheers, Daniel Bryan fires AJ, to which the crowd boos, and then Shane gets the Monday Nitro NWO backstage cutaway during the "main event" which basically screams "we don't care about this match at all," and then puts himself against AJ in a match at Mania.

Now, maybe this could be mostly fine, and I'm not gonna pretend like I'm not way more hyped for this match now then I was a month agao, except for one other thing: We've seen countless wrestlers do terrible things backstage on Smackdown Live in recent months and not even get fined or suspended, let alone fired. Baron Corbin attacked Ambrose with a fucking forklift, Maryse beat Nikki Bella with a pipe or something, Dolph Ziggler was wailing on dudes with chairs, AND RANDY ORTON BURNED DOWN A MAN'S HOUSE. Corbin, Maryse, and Orton get matches at Mania, and AJ gets fired. Guys, we all know it’s one big scripted show, but consistency in the story has to matter at least a little bit or we’re just staging wrestling matches for no reason.. And also, no way does AJ get fired without Steph calling that dude in like .2 seconds and offering him a big old contract for Raw.

Alright, let's just move onto Daniel Bryan's role in Cena/ Nikki vs. Miz/ Maryse. Again, the build to this is mostly a lot of fun, but the authority figure, if you really think about it, is the worst. Miz has been rightfully murking Bryan on the mic for months ever since Bryan openly admitting during the draft that he didn't want Miz and then called him a coward a few weeks later on Talking Smack. Regardless of if you like Miz, Daniel, you deserve every bit of that verbal ethering you've gotten. And then on SDL, Bryan, as biased as they come in a feud that involves his sister-in-law and her boyfriend, books the match for Mania apparently against Miz's wishes after talking about how much he wants to punch Miz in the face. NOT IDEAL MANAGEMENT TALK, DANIEL.

Look, at the end of the day, much of this is done in the service of building feuds, and for the most part, I understand it (though not that Foley/ Steph stuff), but when you think about wrestling like it's a real show, and not with a winking nod at it being fake, the logic behind it falls apart, and that's just not good enough. But I guess what I’m really saying is, can we just get William Regal to take charge of both brands?

10 Best Moments of the Week

Shane O’Mac takes a bigger beating for a Smackdown Live backstage segment then Brock Lesnar took in his entire Mania match last year Shane continues to be a lunatic. That looked like a hell of a stiff whoopin’ he took from AJ, and as “meh” as I’ve felt about seeing the best wrestler in the world selling for Shane’s baby jabs, I can’t deny that this popped me.

That Austin Aries rolling elbow I mostly dislike that spinning lariat/ clothesline or elbow thing that a few different people do because they usually do it like Natalya where they spin, then have to step forward and throw the thing, thereby neutering the momentum of the move. Even Luke Harper doesn't do it very well. But Aries has the best one I've ever seen. When he comes out of the spin he is ON TOP of you and that elbow looks like it has extra oomph on it because of it.

Bringing back the Mick Foley/ Triple H blood feud It wasn't Rock/ Austin in terms of box office and hype, but the Foley/ Triple H feud, peaking with Cactus Jack's return, is probably my favorite feud for both men, and so I was getting a little worried when Trips was giving every appearance of absolutely neutering Mick, but I can't deny that there was a huge pop in my living room when the camera cut away from Mick apparently cowering in the corner of the ring but discreetly reaching for something in his pants. That was a good moment, though I felt less so about Trips getting to stand tall over Rollins at the end of the night, though at least that match is clearly on for Mania now.

SLAY MARYSE Wrestling feuds based on shootin’ are super tricky, but this Miz/ Maryse vs. Cena/ Bella feud continues to do the best job I’ve seen a feud do with “shooting” since, like, CM Punk. I have no idea how bad Maryse’s ring rust might be, but that genuinely seemed like a woman who is just going to punch Nikki in the face at Mania.

Dana Brooke, white bread baby face They stopped and started with this moment too much on the way there, but I'll be damned if Dana's goofy energy in the ring didn't get that crowd cheering for her. The timing seems odd to me given that we're a few weeks from Mania and Charlotte has much bigger fish to fry, but I'll allow the string to play out on this one and hope that they build on it and make her into the sort of mid-card babyface that isn't really present on either main roster.

Roman Reigns: Shithead heel I have no idea if they're actually doing this heel thing with Roman or if they're really content to let him wither and die in the middle, but R-double as a cocky, entitled dick throwing shade at Shawn Michaels and the Undertaker at once was a fascinating decision. Given that Undie has shown his own Bobby Hill-inspired heel tendencies as recently as the Lesnar follow-up feud, I wondered if maybe they were going to try and make the Dead Man play something of a bad guy here, but right now they are setting Roman up to get booed out of the goddamn building in Orlando.

Bray Wyatt... ewww I’m no big fan of any of the spooky stuff WWE does with Bray Wyatt because too often they half-ass it, and you can’t half-ass the mystical/ magical shit. It’s either real or it’s not. But Bray bathing in Sister Abigail’s ashes or what the fuck ever happened there was a billion times more memorable than the countless gaspy promos he’s done before about being the Eater of Worlds or something.

Sasha planting seeds I hope it happens, and I'm glad they're planting the seeds, but I hope they wait until after Mania for Sasha to even hint at hostilities towards Bayley. The night after Mania for a Sasha turn would cause just obscene levels of reaction.

William Regal, my dude That triple threat tag match at NXT: Orlando is now by far the odds-on favorite to be the match of Mania weekend. Adding that elimination stip is a fascinating stroke. It’s very unclear if any of these six guys are headed for the main roster anytime soon, so I could really see anyone coming out of there with the title, but I’d say the elimination piece makes AOP far more likely to retain. Still, that match should get 30 minutes if I have the say, and just be ten kinds of awesome.

Asuka stylin’ and profilin’ Asuka hanging by the pool, saying her catchphrases, and that entire segment, was a really good one for the champ. She’s never been more arrogant or looked better. I didn’t think they’d beat Ember on the way to the top, but I’m definitely starting to feel more like Asuka will retain and maybe go a little extra heel afterwards.

Let the Smark Out

I went overboard in the Theme of the Week on my smarky side, so I’m just going to list my two problems this week and not go too far in-depth about them here.

LOL Ziggler should be a meme at this point. I can’t believe how bad this heel turn has been.

The Club's self-inflicted words - Hey, Gallows and Anderson, in the words of CM Punk, "You need to watch the show." I'm actually debating making this into a weekly segment because I feel like WWE's characters way too often do the dumbest shit with the most obvious, self-inflicted outcome. And that's exactly what happened with Gallows and Anderson guaranteeing that Foley would put them in a Triple Threat match at Mania after interfering in the Sheamus/ Cesaro vs. Cass/ Enzo #1 Contender's match.

Let’s Rank Stuff

Two weeks to Mania and we’re so close that it’s pretty clear, with a couple possible exceptions, what the card will look like. So this week we’re ranking how long I expect the Mania matches to go, from longest to shortest. And keep in mind this is my prediction for how long the matches will actually last, not how long I want them to last.

Reigns vs. Undertaker (22 minutes)

John Cena and Nikki Bella vs. The Miz and Maryse (19 Minutes)

Triple H vs. Rollins (18 Minutes if Seth can go)

Corbin vs. Ambrose (17 Minutes because they go backstage and do goofy shit)

Jericho vs. Owens (16 Minutes)

Wyatt vs. Orton (15 Minutes)

AJ vs. Shane (15 Minutes because it takes time to set up a crazy Shane spot)

Charlotte vs. Bayley vs. Sasha (14 Minutes)

Sheamus/ Cesaro vs. The Club vs. Enzo and Cass (13 Minutes on the Pre-Show)

Neville vs. Aries (10 Minutes)

AMBAR (10 Minutes, longer if it goes to the Pre-Show)

Smackdown Women's Free For All (9 Minutes)

Lesnar vs. Goldberg (6 Minutes)

Match of the Week

Bobby Roode vs. Kassius Ohno for the NXT Championship - I was really torn between this and the 5-Way on 205 Live, but I have more to say about Ohno/ Roode, so I picked this one. I liked that they made Ohno look pretty good even as you knew there was no way he was winning. His offense looked and sounded stiff as hell, which I always appreciate out of a big dude. And Roode continues to just be smarter and survive by the skin of his teeth. But I also needed to talk about the elephant in the room: Ohno’s gear. That tightie-whitie and basketball jersey look was horrific. I have no problem with guys that aren’t as physically fit being really good at wrestling. I like the different body types. But the ring gear here is actively distracting and it’s going to hurt him.

Either put him in a pair of full-sized trunks that come up past the waist (think old school Dusty Rhodes) and let him wrestle shirtless, or get him pants and an actual shirt. Either option is fine, this option is atrocious.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Mania. Obviously, we’re headed towards Mania. But post-Mania, I’m nervous about how WWE might treat Smackdown Live. It’s been their best show for months, but change is a-comin’. Cena is reportedly taking time off, Nikki might be retiring, and word is the AJ Styles could be traded to Raw. That leaves an enormous gap at the top of the Smackdown card that I don’t see how they can fill without getting an enormous asset from Raw.

The top of the Raw card post-Mania would be: Brock, R-Double, BRAUN, KO, Finn, Styles, Rollins, SmoJo. And that’s without mentioning Sami, Cesaro, Sheamus, and Handsome Rusev. That roster is fuckin’ STACKED.

The top of the Smackdown card without Cena would be: Orton, Wyatt, Miz, Ambrose, and I guess Baron Corbin??? Yikes. If AJ goes to Raw and SDL doesn’t get like Seth and New Day in return (because let’s be honest, the rosters are already uneven), then they are completely setting Smackdown Live up for massive failure.

Do the right thing, WWE.

Hitting The Finisher

We saw the first concrete glimpse of a Sasha Banks heel turn on Raw this week. It was as fleeting as they come, an off-handed remark about "haters" intended to sew doubt in Bayley's mind, but NXT fans the world over had to be relishing it, dreaming of the inevitable moment on a future Raw when Sasha and Bayley are in the ring, perhaps yelling at a retreating Charlotte or Nia, when Bayley drifts a little ahead of Sasha, just far enough for Sasha to give her a quick stink eye and then... BAM! Backstabber into the Banks Statement. Even if WWE does its usual main roster, half-assed, telegraphing in the lead-up to such a moment, it will pop the hell out of the crowd and change the face of the Raw women's division for the better.

And yet I'm here to tell you that I hope they wait a while before they pull the trigger. Bayley seems incredibly likely to retain the title at Mania despite being the third best performer in the Triple Threat, and my guess is the night after Mania they pull the trigger on the Sasha turn. That crowd will eat it the fuck up.

But I hope they wait. If you want Bayley to retain the title, let Sasha hang at her side for a while, let her stay Bayley's friend out mutual respect. Maybe she helps Bayley survive a Nia feud post-Mania, while also feuding with Emma or someone from Smackdown that gets traded. The point is, let us get comfortable with Sasha and Bayley as friends, even as we all know that Sasha ultimately wants the title. Give Sasha multiple opportunities to turn, but never take it. Really build up the respect these two have for each other. Let Charlotte recruit a few others into a stable and let Sasha and Bayley withstand them, and then, pull the damned trigger after you're 110% sure you've earned it.

The Boss turning on Bayley should be heartbreaking. Right now it would just be predictable. Fun, yes, but emotional, no.