#Fargo

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Hoping to have part II out later this week!

Runaway

Anyone But You

Summary: After successfully running away from your past, it all comes crashing down 10 years later on a cold, snowy Halloween night.

Hello loves and Happy Halloween! This is part 1 in a mini-series!

18+ Only! MDNI!

CW: No use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "sunshine". Home invasion. Knife use. General canon type violence.

WC: 1.5K

Halloween Night - 2019

Scandia, Minnesota

“A KitKat for the witch, oooh and how about a Snickers for Spider Man?” You fawned over the two small children proudly wearing their costumes, settling the candy in each of their buckets, waving to their parents as they took off back down the sidewalk with unadulterated childhood delight.

You smiled, looking around as the neighborhood was beginning to grow quiet in the cool night. The visitors went from a steady stream to trickling at this point.

A Halloween movie marathon was playing in the background as you shut the door and made your way back into the living room to make yourself cozy on the sofa once more. Your eyes grow heavy the closer the clock edges past 10 pm.

The doorbell chime caught your attention, rousing you from a soft doze as you stood, stretching. In your half dazed state, you grabbed the bowl of candy not realizing it was far too late for any more youngsters.

You shuffled to the door, sweater falling off your shoulder, swinging it open with as much enthusiasm that you could muster but there was no one there. No black cat or Buzz Light-year standing in the doorway begging for a treat.

With bleary eyes, you blink a few times, stepping out onto the porch with your worn house slippers looking around with a slight uneasy feeling creeping up your spine.

Your breath blows visible in the air, as you wrap your free arm around yourself. A new blanket of snow sparkled under the moonlight, with a fresh set of footprints visible, leading to the side yard, prints larger than any child could make suddenly setting you on high alert.

Slow and methodically you start to back up into the house, spotting movement just out of the corner of your eye. Quickly, you turn your head in time to see a shadow move out of your line of vision and into the nearby trees.

“Shit,” hissing low under your breath, moving a little faster and slamming the door as soon as you made it back into the foyer. Your hands moved to lock and deadbolt it as quickly as possible, keeping your eyes fixed firmly out into the yard through the front door windows.

Maybe some teenagers were trying to play a trick on you, but something deep down told you otherwise as you decidedly moved to the kitchen.

There were two choices, pretend you hadn't seen whoever's shadow that was and hope they were playing a harmless prank or prepare for a fight that was years in the making.

You didn't own a gun, too many questions and a background check would have immediately drawn attention, although right now you wish you had something other than just kitchen knives.

The sliding back door was locked, but it was the most vulnerable entry point. You made no attempt to hide, standing there in the kitchen light, moving across the door and looking out across the frozen yard. This was it, making it very clear you weren't going to make it easy for them.

You crossed back into the living room, about to shut the TV off, when a loud crash of glass shattering echoed through the house. Wasting no time, you ran out into the foyer and climbed up the stairs two at a time, without looking back. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you made it to the second floor landing and rushed down the hall.

The blood coursing through your veins was thoroughly spiked with adrenaline as you made it to the bedroom, the last room at the end of the hall, leaving the door open you quietly lean down and crawl under the bed with the large knife gripped tight and at the ready.

It was quiet, too quiet, as you waited for any sounds of the intruder, trying to steady your now rapid breathing but all you could hear was the TV from downstairs.

A few more excruciating moments of silence that seemed to stretch on forever and then you hear it, the unmistakable sound of heavy footfalls against the old hardwood floor.

Thump. Thump. Thump. They were taking a leisurely pace down the hall, as if they hadn't just broken into your home. They stop, just as the door across from yours slowly creaks open.

Shuffling and banging around momentarily startles you, but you stay quiet, clasping a hand over your mouth. Your eyes remain glued to the bottom of the doorframe.

You hold your breath as a pair of black tactical boots come into view, pausing momentarily as they take in the layout of the room. They edge toward the closet and pull open the door, instantly ripping clothes from hangers and shoving things out of the way littering the floor below.

They let out a frustrated sigh, muttering a muffled “shit,” turning toward the bed. It feels like time stands still as you try not to make a sound but draw the knife closer to your body.

They whirl slightly back toward the door and take a step as you let out a breath you had been holding, closing your eyes.

Leather suddenly creaks in the dark, making your head jerk toward the sound at the end of the bed.

Your eyes grow wide at the sight of a masked figure looking back at you but before your brain can process a decent thought, a large hand wraps around your ankle yanking you forcefully from your hiding place as you let out a squeak of surprise. The knife slips from your hand as you claw to get it back, hanging onto it with everything you have.

They pull you further out into the open as you begin to kick and thrash, screaming out. The carpet burns your bare torso, with your sweater rising up from the force of it all.

A few grunts and protests from them, but it's to no avail, their grip is tight, bruisingly so. You grapple for purchase a few more moments, grabbing the bottom of the bedpost as you force your free leg back into their shin as hard as you can.

“Fuck!” They hiss, releasing your ankle but quickly regaining composure and forcefully holding onto your hip, pressing you further into the carpeting as you let go of the bed pulling the knife toward you, hoping they hadn't spotted it.

You close your eyes as both of their large hands easily flip you over on your back. Your eyes snap back open, suddenly face to face with a Jack Skellington mask.

Your lips quirk into a small smirk as they tilt their head down at you curiously. Time to act, grabbing the knife and slicing toward them as fast and hard as you could.

They see the glint once you brandish your weapon and lean back, dodging most of the blow as it grazes their bicep with a hiss and growl, briefly gripping their arm before quickly turning their attention back to you.

“Goddamnit!” They grit, easily overpowering you, grabbing your wrist as you tried to take another swing and tossing the knife across the room.

“Fuck you!” You spit, thrashing as they pin your arms above your head and throw their leg over you, straddling your waist, pinning you down as you continue to kick.

“Goddamn, just as fiery as ever! Should've known this wouldn't be easy!” He bellows out, muffled through the mask but your eyes narrow warily at the voice. Your face morphs into confusion, followed with a sudden flash of recognition passing over your features.

It couldn't be. Your gaze lingers on the mask for a moment, trailing downward. A leather jacket, paired with black tactical pants and a thigh holster. No. Anyone but him.

“Gator?” You rasp out, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

His name hangs thickly between you, tilting his head as if debating with himself before heavily sighing and maneuvering his hands around so only his left still has both your wrists pinned above you.

He lifts the other, finally ripping the mask from his face. You stare into those once familiar, hazel eyes that suddenly thrust you back into a landslide of memories and emotions. A far cry from the boy you once knew, a man before you now.

“Hey Sunshine.” He says with that lopsided grin that used to give you butterflies, a nonchalance about the entire situation that has you stunned, the urge to fight suddenly draining from your body.

“That damn mask was gettin’ hot.” He adds, tossing it somewhere across the room.

“Wh— What the hell are you doing here?” Asking, when you already know the answer but your mind is unwilling to believe it.

“What do you think?” Leaning a little further into your space. “Roy sent me.”

“Gator, you can't take me back there. You know exactly what's waiting for me.” You rush out, a million scenarios running through your mind.

You'd expected this eventually, always looking over your shoulder but never could have imagined it would be Gator coming to collect.

[stfreekeddie]

#GATORTILLMAN || Another toxic man to drool over 🥵

Something different but Joe Keery is hot so it's okay

[wenmistry]

Doomed parents and their doomed little guy <3

[girlstevebuscemi]

Steve Buscemi for the New York Times / shot by Finlay Mackay, 2007

[nessa007]

EXACTLY!!! this is actually lamorne morris’ long overdue emmy win for playing winnie the bish on new girl 👏👏👏👏

[stevelives]

Joe Keery and his nail bats

[detectivejay]

It's been a little while since I've made a poll, so I'm going to shake off the dust with a simpler question (although choosing an answer to this one is probably anything but simple for mystery fans.)

This is mostly oriented towards live action mystery/crime TV series, I'll probably do a later poll for animated shows or anime.

I can't possibly fit every series worth a shoutout in the 12 options Tumblr allows per poll, so please let me know your favorites in the tags and comments if it's not listed here. :)

Please reblog for a larger sample size, thank you!

[texaschainsawmascara]

pls I’m crying what the fuck is this

hausofdecline on ig

[lornemalvo]

fargo, nd

[distinguisheddingus]

[donnastroy]

Fargo (1996) dir. Joel Coen

[skarsgards-bill]

Joe Keery

as Gator Tillman - Fargo

[animusrox]

Fargo (2014 - ) S05E05 "The Tiger"

[djoswiftie]

the way he sticks his tongue out when he's swinging the bat tho...

[emziess]

Joe Keery as Gator Tillman Fargo, 5:07, Linda

[stevelives]

isn’t it crazy just how fast the night changes