#an whoever made her also. decided that she has a GUN

[astrmastr]

robin my sweet child u r breakin my heArt

this is one of the player characters in my bird game!! she is a cool robot ladie who was an ancient core restored in a new body! also last sesh she grabbed two monsterbirds and made them kiss (they died immediately upon impact)

[dyns33]

Obvious

Most of the time I see him as the cool silly big bro, but I love Deadpool, so here's a long Deadpool x female reader.

Normally nothing destined Y/N to meet Wade Wilson.

A normal life, without enemies, without superpowers, without contracts on her head. She didn't fight, respected the law (at least for the most serious and important things) and she considered herself to be a good person.

The first time she had passed Saint Agnes Orphanage, she hadn't really paid it much attention. The second time, she found it a little strange that an orphanage was in this part of the city, which was not really made for children.

Then one evening, when she had had a bad day, she realized that it was a bar and she decided to go in for a drink.

Since she thought an orphanage was strange in that place, she might have thought it was odd for a bar to have such a name. She could also have been scared when she saw the other customers, who all turned towards her, indicating that she might not be welcome.

But Y/N was tired, and she just wanted a drink before going home, so she smiled politely as she sat down at the counter.

The waiter frowned, but he agreed to serve her with a shrug, muttering that as long as she was an adult, it wasn't his problem.

A tall, bald, tattooed guy then approached her, putting a hand on her arm without worrying about her private space, asking her if she wanted to follow him home.

"… No thanks."

“Come on, don’t be a slut.”

"Please."

“Come with me, you stupid bitch.”

"Now, that's really not very nice. The lady said no, a gentleman should know it's time to leave. But no Hector, not only are you insisting, but you're being rude."

"Fuck you, Wade, don't get involved in this !"

The waiter continued to mumble about cleaning, while this Wade guy smashed Hector's head against the counter. A tooth even flew close to Y/N’s face.

That might have been enough to scare her completely. In addition to the surge of violence that was happening right next to her, there was the red suit, the katanas and other guns, which could make you want to flee as quickly as possible.

But when he finished kicking Hector's ass, Wade turned to her, and despite the mask, it was obvious that he was smiling, extending a hand towards her.

"Miss, my apologies for that boor. He knows nothing of good manners."

"… Thank you."

"You're very welcome, lovely angel ! Wade Wilson, Deadpool, Merc with a mouth, at your service ! Oh, he spilled your drink… Bad Hector ! Or was it me ? Maybe it was me. Weasel, the same for the little lady, on my note !”

“You already owe me a fortune.”

“I will kill whoever you want for free !”

“I thought you didn’t kill anymore.”

"Ah yes… I'll suck you for free !"

“Here you go, two drinks, just shup up Wade.”

In the end, Wade was a bit special, but not evil. He stayed with her, partly because he loved having someone to talk to, but also to make sure no one else was going to bother her again.

And he talked a lot. Everything he said didn't always make sense, he even seemed to be talking to himself sometimes, but he was funny. It seemed to please him that Y/N laughed at his jokes. Behind the counter, Weasel was still muttering that she was doing something silly.

Among the long tirade he delivered that evening, she understood that Wade had not had an easy life. That he had done some things that could make him a criminal, but he had been trying to improve for some time.

"Colossus already wanted me to become an X-men but it wasn't for me. Wait, there are X-men in this universe ? I do not know anymore. Anyway, there's Spidey and Devy. No, he's right, this nickname isn't great, Devil. Like Daredevil. They want us to be Team Red, but only if I stop unliving people. It's not fair because they're friends with Frank, and Frank keeps unliving people, but he lost his wife and his kids, so I guess he has more sympathy points than me."

"I don't understand everything, but I guess Spidey is Spiderman ?"

"Yes ! He's super cool ! And his ass ! People confuse us sometimes, it annoys me, but it's a bit of a compliment. He's my role model."

Like a true superhero, Deadpool insisted on taking her home. He was terribly honest, saying that he could leave her a few blocks away, but that was useless, because as a former mercenary, he was very good at stalking people and he could find her address without difficulty, even if he only had her name.

"Which I wouldn't do ! Normally. I might want to see you again, and ask Weasel to find your number, but I know myself, I'll put it in my phone, and I'll hesitate for weeks, then I'll send a lousy message, you'll be scared, you'll block me, I'll be ashamed and I'll shoot myself in the head because I'm a moron."

“I can give you my number.”

"And I… Huh ? Huh ?! For real ?!" exclaimed Wade, jumping like a child on Christmas Day.

Wade called her right away, specifying that it was not to verify that she was giving him a false number but a little. Despite the mask, his face showed surprise when he saw that she hadn't lied.

"I should put a bullet in my head to make sure I'm not dreaming."

“You wouldn’t wake up.”

“Baby girl, we only just met, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

When Deadpool talked about shooting himself, he meant it literally. It often happened that he died, either because of an enemy, an accident, or by his own hand. But he always came back. A gift like a curse.

They became friends. It was obvious, and quite sad, that Wade didn't have many friends.

Most people around him couldn't stand him or were afraid of him. It was true that he could be quite unpredictable, especially when he got lost in his discussions with the boxes, or an imaginary audience. But he was never mean.

Weasel was more of a collaborator, Al was forced to accommodate him, and the other heroes, unable to get rid of him, tried to make him a nice guy.

And he was really nice. Crazy but adorable, funny and wanting to do well.

Very quickly, Y/N started to have a crush, and even more. Even after seeing him without a mask. He never took it off completely to eat, repeating that he didn't want her to lose her appetite or feel like throwing up.

But after landing in a trash can after a fight, and forgetting that he had invited her to watch Princess Bride, Y/N had seen him. Yes, his scars were a bit impressive, but they weren't that bad.

With an embarrassed smile, he waved his hand while remaining frozen near the entrance.

"… I can move if you want to run away. I won't follow you. I may look like Frankenstein's monster, but I only pursue young girls who ask me to. Or who deserve it. Because criminals have no gender, I don't discriminate."

“I brought popcorn.” was her only reaction.

"... Oh. Sweet ? Salty ? Caramel ? Al must have beer somewhere, hidden with the cocaine."

After that, he was a little less afraid to show his face, even though it was obvious he wasn't comfortable. It wasn't easy to reassure him, repeating that she didn't care about his appearance.

Y/N didn’t remember how they ended up having this conversation. The only thing she knew was that she was pressed against him, laughing, when she had innocently said it would be fun if they went out together.

This made Wade laugh, but a very serious laugh, leaving no chance and hitting where it hurt.

"You and me ? Ah ! No chance."

"Why ?"

"It's obvious."

A simple little sentence could sometimes do a lot of damage. Too busy making fun of the characters on the screen, Wade didn't see Y/N's look of sadness, just as he didn't feel her body stiffen.

Still, she should have expected this response. Of course it was obvious that they had nothing to do together. Deadpool was a super hero (in training), he was tall, muscular, funny, rich.

She had seen photos of his deceased ex, Vanessa. She had observed him flirting with beautiful women and men before. It was already fortunate that she was only friends with him.

So Y/N swallowed her pride, accepting the obvious, and not talking about the subject again.

But it was hard, because the more time passed, the stronger the feelings became.

It was even harder when Wade entered his depressive phases. He kept putting himself down, insulting himself and accepting insults from the boxes in his head. It took a lot of patience and perseverance to get him to put down his gun.

"Anyway, I'll come back later. Bad luck for the world. People would be happier if I wasn't here anymore. Maybe they'll miss me a little, for a few minutes."

“I would miss you, Wade.”

"Yeah… You say that because you're adorable, baby girl. But you'd be better off without me too. I'm a real drag."

“You saved me the first time we met.”

"And since then you think you owe me a debt. You know, every time we're in the street, the others look at me and they're afraid. If I wasn't there, you could be with them. You could have lots of friends.”

"I don't want lots of friends, Wade." Y/N sighed, taking him into her arms. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Oh, sweetie pie, me too !”

It was rarer for them to find themselves in the opposite situation. Not because Deadpool wasn't capable of empathy, but because she didn't like talking about her problems, preferring to keep everything to herself and cry out of sight.

Unfortunately, she had made the decision to become friends with a former mercenary who loved to jump from roof to roof, only to come visit without warning by tapping on the window.

Y/N had no time to hide her tears, holding back a sob as her eyes met those of Wade, who had stopped mid-movement, fist raised against his window.

He didn't hesitate before entering, terribly serious.

"Who ? Who did this ?"

“Wade…”

"Who made my baby girl cry ? I want a name. Spidey and Dev will understand. Yellow wants decapitation, White wants emasculation. Tell me who."

"It's really not necessary. It's not important."

“It’s important if you cry.” Deadpool growled as he looked around the apartment for clues.

Once he had an idea in his head, it was almost impossible to divert his attention. If it wasn't so important, it was possible with food or talking about Spiderman's butt. But this time he considered it very important.

Tired, Y/N thought that all she had to do was say that it was just a ridiculous heartbreak for him to calm down. He had no reason to kill someone just because they didn't love her back.

This actually seemed to calm him down a bit, as he patted his cheeks with his hands in a dramatic gesture.

"What ?! Someone doesn't love you ?! Someone doesn't like my sweet little angel ? Are they crazy or stupid. You deserve the best !"

"Actually… He's the one who's too good for me."

"Bullshit ! The important thing is love ! If a woman can marry a space duck, then everyone can be together, as long as it's legal and consensual !"

"… What ? No, wait, it doesn't matter. Wade, please forget it."

"A name. Let me prove to you that this fool doesn't deserve you, and not the other way around !"

"No."

"A name !"

"You ! It's you !"

For the first time since they met, Wade was silent for more than a minute, staring at her like he wasn't sure she was real. He often had hallucinations, so this happened to him.

Then he muttered incomprehensible things, probably speaking with his boxes to check that he had heard what she had just said.

"… Me ? As in, me ?"

“I know what you’re going to say.” Y/N sighed, wanting to disappear. "You've already said it, it's obvious that we're not meant to be together. You're charismatic, and strong, and funny, with powers. You save people, you have an extraordinary life, while I… I am me."

"… Baby girl. Do you have a fever ? Did you lose a bet ? Because… You saw me without a mask. You know I'm crazy and dangerous. There are several bounties on my head, I've unlived more people than the population of New York, and my favorite movie is Zoolander 2. When I said it was obvious… I meant that you were too good for me."

There had been a misunderstanding, each being convinced that the other could never want the other, because they were too different. But even though he was special, with skin problems and an inability to concentrate for more than ten minutes, Wade was much better than a space duck.

However, while she was sure of what she wanted, he hadn't clearly said what he expected next.

"I mean, if you just want to be friends, I'll understand."

"You can't tease me like that and then break my heart. Don't play with me, woman !"

“Wade…” Y/N sneered, as he gesticulated like a degenerate, declaiming his great love for her and her smile, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Taking advantage of his inattention, she approached him, until he froze when he felt her hands on his mask.

With a look, she asked him if she could take it off, and as he didn't move to stop her, she took it off first up to his nose, before hesitating.

Y/N didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but she also didn’t want him to think that she didn’t want to see him if she didn’t go further. So she took out the whole mask, she observed Wade, smiling before kissing him.

"… Don't take what comes next as a bad thing." he whispered as their lips parted.

"What ?"

"I'm going to have a heart attack…"

As always, Y/N thought he was joking at first, until he collapsed in front of her, looking delighted even though his heart had stopped beating. Fortunately she was used to seeing him die, even if it was still a little traumatic.

It took almost an hour for him to wake up. Y/N had time to take a shower and make herself some tea, sitting on the couch to wait.

"Shit !" he shouted as he opened his eyes, looking around the apartment before looking at her. “Did we kiss ?”

“Yes and you died.”

"It's weird. Normally you go to heaven after you die, not before. But I probably don't have enough superhero points for heaven yet, so the other option is that I became totally crazy."

“Wade…”

"I know, White and Yellow would have told me. They're already saying that all the time, but they would have insisted, especially for me to escape from the asylum. It's no fun fighting with fake people and hippos. Was I dead long ?"

“No, a little over half an hour.”

"And you stayed with me, it's so cute. Nurse Y/N. No, Doctor Y/N, and I'll be Nurse Wilson. Oh, Doctor Y/N, I made a mistake in the dosage of a patient, I'm a bad nurse, punish me."

"… Let's see Nurse Wilson, we're in the middle of an intervention, calm down."

"Uh oh ! You're playing along !" Wade exclaimed, pouting from the ground. "I didn't expect that ! Wait, I need a blonde wig, and a white dress. You'll see, I look super sexy in a dress. Wait, we do this now or it's quick and we should have a date first ?'

“I wouldn’t say no to a date.”

"I see the genre, like in novellas. Doctor Y/N takes me to the restaurant to talk about my future promotion, but in fact, you are going to admit to me that I am pregnant with you, before I even enter your bed !"

“As long as you’re in my bed before the hundredth episode.”

“UH !”

The small, high-pitched cry of pleasure preceded a second cardiac arrest, Deadpool's mind imagining Y/N and him in a bed, with a stetoscope.

When she asked him if he was going to have a heart attack every time, he told her that he would probably die for good the day he saw her naked, or that they made love for the first time.

But Wade was a gentleman, he ate lots of vegetables, exercised, and begged Daredevil to teach him meditation techniques.

So he had the courtesy of having the next heart attack only after they were finished, and in the toilet. And every time after that they were together, Wade would go out of his way to just get a nosebleed.

Especially on Weasel's counter, telling him everything they had done or almost everything, which annoyed the poor waiter a lot, even if he knew that it would happened from the start, the moment he saw Deadpool with Y/N.

[mybworlds]

Run, stop, stay

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You, after a very long trip alone across the country, arrive in Jackson. Joel is a very lonely man and after Ellie broke up with him, he's even more alone and grumpy. Tommy and Maria decide that you're going to stay at Joel's house for a while, at least until more houses are built. Will your cohabitation be easy? Or will it be more complicated than everyone thinks?

Warnings: use of you, use of alcohol, loneliness, suicidal thoughts, suicidal attempt, a short story about sexual assault that occurred in the past I won't go into details, another SA in the present days, PTSD, violence, blood, lots of sexually explicit content, use of petnames, dirty talk, fluff elements, mutual pining, the main characters spy on each other for a while, the image of the female character has the sole purpose of representing the character, but you can imagine her however you want, no physical description of the female character except for long hair often gathered in a ponytail or braid, she wears a bra and jeans (most of the time).

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Masterlist

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

You run frantically through the woods, you don't even know how long you've been running in those damned woods, you trip over a large root and you fall on your hands and knees on the muddy ground. Your hands and knees burn, but you can't stop. You can't think right now, what you can do is run, run as fast as you can. You have to keep running, that thing is still chasing you. Those verses echo in the woods, you don't want to scream, you don't have to or you will attract others on you and then it'll be worse.

The skin on your hands and knees throbs, but you have to continue, you run, run faster and faster still hearing those gasps getting closer and closer, then the sound stops the moment you trip over something and sink into the soft ground. You hit your head violently against what appears to you to be stone or slush, losing consciousness.

When you recover, it's night and you can't move. Everything hurts. Your head throbs, your hands feel dirty and sticky, your legs feel soft and almost as if they aren't part of you.

You've fallen into a trap and you don't know how to get out of it, but at the moment you can't and because you're hurt and because it's night. And at night you know, it's better not to move as the dangers are greater.

You observe the segment of moon rising high in the sky, it's so bright now and in that moment you can see what has happened to you even if only partially. You look at your hands and discover them full of soil, raised skin and now dried blood.

You almost feel like your legs are broken, you have an indescribable pain, you know that you are not about to die, but you have the horrible sensation of a pain that is overwhelming and devastating you.

Oh, if only you hadn't been so stubborn and stayed with your friends there in that damn QZ, maybe you wouldn't have lived hand to mouth, maybe you wouldn't have fought and killed to survive, maybe you wouldn't be in that trap now. Maybe whoever made it is dead or no longer in the area and no one will ever know you are there. You're cold, so cold, shivers ripple your skin, you shiver, shrugging your shoulders. Everything hurts, so much. After what seems like hours to you, you open your eyes hearing various footsteps, your senses are on alert, you open your eyes wide, prick up your ears and take, with a groan full of pain, the gun from your now worn backpack and point it towards the way out of that trap you fell into. Those footsteps are getting closer, closer and closer, and then at the exact moment the figure appears you shoot. Just one shot. But it's enough. Your shot hits. The figure lets out a cry of pain and you also scream "GO AWAY!" if you weren't so scared of mankind, or rather what's left, you would have asked for help instead you fight as you've always done and will always continue to do.

"Fuck!" you hear a man shouts, a few moments later, you hear someone else “Did someone hit you?”, "Fuck, it hurts." the first complains.

“You'll survive, okay?” the second seems to want to reassure him.

"You okay down there?" the second one asks you. You are still highly suspicious so you don't answer. Instead, you reload another shot ready to fire in order to defend yourself.

You swallow, gritting your teeth tightly, you're out of breath from the effort and the pain. The pain in your legs is killing you, your head hurts, your eyes burn, you can't and shouldn't give up, but you're suddenly so tired. You are forced to stop. You have to.

Before you know, you pass out.

Joel throws a glass at the kitchen wall. He's drunk again, when he's drunk he's grumpier than usual and rarely even gets violent enough. He's been in this state ever since Ellie cut him out of her life, since she no longer speaks to him, and since she goes on patrols with everyone but him. Joel feels like he's going crazy. He loves that little girl, even if she is no longer a fourteen-year-old girl, in his eyes she will always be the one who needs his care. Joel staggers as he goes to look for another glass, almost hitting a door so much so that he struggles to stand. Tommy, since he put on a show to Tipsy Bison, advised him to drink alone at home and stop arguing with Seth, the owner of the club. Joel even threatened him once, and Seth returned the threat with a threat to get him kicked out of Jackson. The situation would have completely degenerated if Tommy and Maria had not intervened. From that moment on, Joel has been banned from entering the club unless he apologizes to Seth, but he has no intention of apologizing and therefore since then he has been on his own drinking and throwing glasses and sometimes shouting at himself or the damned world.

He had lost everything, everything that mattered to him had been swept away. He had found some hope and the will to live again, but now that she too had turned her back on him, everything seems useless to him again.

Some people feel sorry for him, he knows it, he feels it, he sees it in their eyes. He doesn't want anyone's pity.

Fuck everyone!

Even his brother, when he sees him drunk or down in the dumps, has turned his back on him or gives him looks full of pity and shrugs his shoulders.

Fuck Tommy!

He goes upstairs and goes to his room, closing the door behind him. He goes to the wardrobe and takes a box in his hands, places it on the bed and opens it. Inside there is a gun, his gun. He sits on the bed and takes it in his hands and the thought of putting an end to his life, his useless life, becomes increasingly clear to him. He can't think anymore, his thoughts are confused, meaningless.

He closes his eyes. His hand is shaking noticeably, he feels the sweat beading on his forehead, fuck... Do it, just do it.

But something prevents him, he reopens his eyes to find himself trembling and covered in cold sweat. No, he can't.

A knock on the door preventing him from continuing those bad thoughts, then he hears his voice, Tommy.

"Joel, you there?"

Another knock on the door.

"Fuck..." he murmurs getting up from bed and hiding his gun in the box, then he puts the box in his wardrobe and close it. He goes downstairs and reach the door. His brother is at the door. His hands on his hips and he looks at his brother for a very long moment.

"Can we talk?" he asks.

"Tsk, whaddya want?" Joel asks crossing his arms.

"Please, I'm sorry. I was a jerk, but hey I'm your brother..." Joel nods "I had to, please try to understand, I..."

"You're a fucking asshole, that's the truth. And no, you're not my brother. A brother doesn't turn his back on his brother. So fuck you, Tommy." he speaks bitterly avoiding Tommy's look.

"Joel, c'mon... okay, I'm sorry. Okay? I dunno what to say to convince you."

"You can do somethin'. Get the hell out of my property."

Tommy sighs shaking his head and turning his back on Joel, "Yeah, do it, all you ever do is shift!"

Tommy reconsiders and walks again toward his older brother, "Joel, I won't give up, so I go back here tomorrow, the next day, the next day again until we get clear, bro." he says with a sad small smile.

Joel doesn't smile back. His expression becomes harder if possible so his brother has to back off and goes away.

The situation doesn't change the next day and for the next fifteen days.

Then, an early morning Joel makes the first move towards his brother who, despite what happened between them, joyfully embrace him. Joel's hug is just a little pat on Tommy's shoulders and then hastily depart from him.

"I mean, can we get past it?" Tommy asks smiling at him weakly putting his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Yeah, course," Joel says avoiding his brother's gaze.

"Look, we need some time, I know... but maybe you and I can we go back to make a few patrols together." Tommy suggests.

"Uh, uh," Joel mutters.

"Is it a yes?" Tommy smiles widely while his older brother rolls his eyes and shakes his head "Right?"

Fuck you, Tommy...

"Yeah, okay..." he says with a resigned air.

When you open your eyes again, you are not in that hole anymore, but you are in a very confortable bed with green blankets, it's so warm and you feel all of a sudden so safe. You open and close your eyes feeling that strange pleasant feeling. You never felt something like that. It's weird, but it's good.

Really good.

You sit in the middle of the bed and you feel stiff and sore. Your hair, usually pulled back into a ponytail, is loose around your shoulders.

"Ouch," you groan touching your head. You feel under your fingers what you think are stitches and your puffy skin. Your head is spinning, but you try to get out of bed the same. As soon as your feet touch ground, you cry for the pain. Your knees are swollen and red, and fuck it hurts so much!

"You are going to be okay, you are going to be okay," you repeat in a breath trying to not to cry again. You have to move and go away, you don't know where you are and you could be in danger in this place. So you gotta move now!

When you try to walk again, you feel so much pain like you walk among fire pits, you feel your eyes filling up with tears. It hurts so much, you clench your teeth, but you have to move.

You almost approach the door, when it opens and a middle - aged woman with long black hair shows up, she looks surprise to see you walk, but then she smiles at you. Her smile is so warm, but you don't smile back. You can't trust her. She could be anyone. She could be a danger like everyone else.

"I'm glad you're up," she says and only then you notice she holds a tray with what you suppose are drugs and there's also some food "I brought you some hot supper and there's a pill for the pain, I didn' believe you could walk. Your fall was really hard and you lost so much blood." she adds laying the tray on a piece of furniture "Can I take a look at your injuries?" she adds again "'m not a doctor, but I learned something throughtout those hard times." then she points with a hand your bed inviting you to go back.

You reluctantly obey without losing sight of the mysterious woman, you touch the bed with your knees, "Please, relax," she says again "I won't hurt you, my name's Maria." you swallow looking into her eyes "And what's your?"

You look at her, you stare at her. You don't know if you can introduce yourself, you're scared. You knew so many survivors who did the worst things to survive. Is this woman so much different?

"Look, I know you can't trust no one except yourself because your strenght helped you to survive and to survive you did what you never thought you could do," she says kneeling before you and using a very quiet tone like you are frightened animal "but since now you can drop your guard and try to go back to a life less... dangerous and more peaceful. You are in Jackson, in a community of over a few hundred people. Here people work, there's a council, so there can be no anarchy, no one could do whatever he wants because if one break rules, he's out." she explains trying to make you feel comfortable.

Even in the QZ there had to be rules, but...

"I promise," she continues interrupting your painful thoughts "no one will ever hurt you. And if someone does, well look for me and he'll be punished. I swear."

You lower your gaze, then you look back at the woman, Maria. She gives a little smile before gets up and says "Now, I'm going to check your injuries, is that okay for you?" she looks at you and you nod "Good. I won't hurt you." she adds.

And it's true, she doesn't. She takes care of you, she gives you some food which you barely touch and not because you're not hungry!

"By the way, I brought you some clean clothes, I don't know if they're your size, but these are better than the ones you're wearing. Now, rest. D' you want light on or off?" you shake your head and she understands she can turn the light off and then closing the door behind her back.

You are alone again, confused. So, you are in a city. Or something that reminds it. There are rules and apparently no one kill or rape no one. It sounds too good to be true.

You lay on that bed until the pill works, then you get up again approaching the window and you find out the woman is right, there's a city at your feet, the light dimly illuminates the road, you can hear the neighing of horses in the distance. You open the window and feel the cool evening air and then you can see for the first time with no fear the stars and the Moon over there.

You feel strange, you look around realizing you have never been in a room like that to have a rest, but you usually go into houses to look for supplies or drugs useful to survive. You have not to do that anymore, according to Maria.

Can you do that?

Maybe...

"I knew there was a catch," he says shaking his head "Maybe the two of you forgot she shot me." Joel adds.

"C'mon, bro, it's just a scratch." Tommy replies.

"Don't call me bro, you always do when you want somethin', but not this time. I came with you for a patrol, but end of the story, she won't stay with me. I have my private spaces and I won't share 'em." he blurts out putting his hands in his dark jeans pockets.

"She doesn't say a word, she's quiet probably she will stay in her room." Maria says trying to convince a reluctant Joel "She needs some time, Joel. You can help her."

"No, I can't..." he says getting up from his chair and giving his back to his brother and his sister-in-law "I can't help no one."

"Joel," Tommy approaches him and puts a hand on his brother's shoulder "You're thinking about Ellie, aren't ya?" Joel doesn't answer, but it's clear "Well, you did what you thought was right and she doesn't hate you, believe me. You helped her and she knows. Now, there's someone else who needs your help, please. Think 'bout what she lived, she's scared and she needs help, maybe your help."

"I hate you when you make these speeches 'cause you're able to make me feel guilty."

"Will you help her?" Maria asks again.

Joel sighs, "I want to see her first, then I will decide."

"Okay, follow me." she says.

Jackson is really quiet right now, the only sounds are the neighing of horses and from time to time some dogs barking, Joel is not at all thrilled in hosting who shot him, but apparently you need help and a place to stay.

Joel enter in the place used as hospital and Maria drives him and Tommy upstairs, then she opens the door and let Joel enters first. She wants to show him you are harmless, but as soon as Joel enters in the room you hit him with a bedside light and he curses covering his head.

"Go away!" he hears you scream and ready to hit him again, this time he grabs and rip the bedside light from your hands.

"Dear," it's Maria who stands between the two of you "this is Joel, he's a friend, you don't have to be scared, he won't hurt you. Please, calm down." she says putting her hands on your shoulders trying to help you to calm you down.

"This is the harmless girl, the girl I'm supposed to host, no way!" he says taking a sharp look at his brother and Maria first then at you who you're staring him with a challenging look.

"She's scared, Joel, please give her some time."

Joel leaves the room and Tommy follows him, "Why do I have to host her?" he asks raising his voice, while he sees Maria close the door.

"'cause no one else can and you are the last one who arrived here in Jackson. There are not enough buildings, and since you're avoiding work and concentrate to drink, well work's slowed down. When we built more buildings, she will go somewhere else. I promise."

"Yeah... your promises..." he says rolling his eyes "I know your promises."

"Yes, well... now, I give you my word. Trust me for once." he says and Joel can't help but reluctantly accept.

NEXT CHAPTER ➢

[pigeonp0st]

Lena Luthor x Reader #3

Summary: Lena breaks up with Reader to keep her safe from Lex. Reader hatches a plan to get rid of him that goes terribly wrong, and naturally, torture follows. This mostly takes place after she’s found again.

Warnings:

Angst,torture, depression, trauma, childhood trauma

Notes:

Hey! I’m going about writing differently now. Everything I write from here on out will most likely be straight from the tumblr drafts and fairly quick. Something I decide to do in a random sitting (unless it’s paid for). Fair warning that this isn’t that, this is just something I worked on ages ago and didn’t publish. I did NO SPELLING CHECKS and remember writing at 2am, so warning number 2

———————

Lena loathed the DEO in that moment. She loathed Alex, and she loathed Supergirl , and she loathed every damn agent in the building so that she didn’t have to loathe herself instead. It’s not enough, there was still a small part of her that she couldn’t ignore, a part of her that screamed; ‘you should have held on. You should have been there’

She knows she should have been there. She knows she failed you before anyone else did. She knows. But she’s trying now and she doesn’t know how to get it to matter to the world. Trying won’t save you, and trying hasn’t led you back to her.

Trying has only led you there, far from Lena, laying somewhere unknown with a body and a heart too worn. Though, Lena imagines, that’s probably not a new feeling for you. She trembles with the image of Lex mocking her on video, holding a gun to your head, she trembles and thinks, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.

Then, miraculously;

“Found her!” Winn shouts loudly, raising his Supergirl action figure in victory, and Lena, CEO, multibillionaire, crumbles in relief in front of dozens of agents in the middle of the DEO.

—-

When you wake up Lena feels her heart stop.

She wanted to kiss you, hold you. She wanted to be the type of person that stayed. She wanted to be the type of person worth staying for.

She wanted to believe the both of you would be okay, and she wanted to hold your face and tell you that. That you’d be okay. She wanted more than anything in that moment to be the type of person that said the right thing. That did the right thing.

She wasn’t. She wasn’t any of the people she wanted to be. Your eyes met hers, full of sorrow, and human and hurt, and she wasn’t. She wasn’t because she was scared, and because she was human also. She wasn’t—so she leaves.

Now, as she’s gripping herself in the hallways of the DEO, struggling against the weight of what feels like worlds on her shoudlers, choking on breaths that should have been being shared with you, she’s filled with so much self contempt it could fuel the whole government. Whoever said that “It’s better to have loved and loss, than to have never loved at all”, has never met the two of you and has never loved this desperately.

Loving you made her feel just as much as losing you had, and is it worth it? Maybe, but It’s certainly not better to be feeling this than not ever feeling it. Can’t those things coexist? Can’t it be better for her to never love, but can’t loving also be a choice she’d make despite all the pain?

Can’t you love the things that will destroy us in the end? Doesn’t she always?

She should go back in. She should go back in and ask for forgiveness, but the fear of ruining things further, of the both of you hurting each other further, prevents her from trying to fix things.

When she broke up with you she had just wanted to protect you from Lex. Losing you like that would have nothing compared to—

Lena shivers, shakes her head, and clutches onto herself more tightly with trembling fingers.

“You’re hyperventilating,” Alex says from where she’s leaning against the wall beside Lena. Her eyes are watchful, careful, but Lena feels them like daggers.

She straightens, forces out a; “wow, you really are an amazing analyzer, detective,” and nearly gets a smirk for her troubles—but Alex is too soft, too caring to give her that. She moves towards her, ever the big sister, but Supergirl rushes in first.

“Lena,” Supergirl—Kara, Kara, Lena thinks, and often starts to forget, except when Kara looks at her like this—breathes out.

Lena steps back from them both, the humanity in the room tears her apart, reminds her of her lack of, and destroys her. “You have to…to warn people when you do that…super speed thing,” Lena grits out, cutting Kara off before she can even begin to try and be…be good. She gestures towards the room with shaky hands and begins to try and compose herself lHow long was she awake while I was asleep?”

Kara and Alex look at each other. Say nothing. “Guys—”

“She woke up two hours ago,” Alex says, at the same time Kara says; “you were wiped out—didn’t even hear the nurses, of course we couldn’t just wake you up”

Two hours, and she was asleep. Lena goes cold instantly. She remembers hearing Lex had you, remembers it like one remembers the worst moment of their life; both intimately and not at all. She remembers hearing Supergirl had you—that you were breathing , but people only say that when someone is very not okay, and Lena remembers the way adrenaline had rushed through her. She had felt both alive and utterly useless through it, and it sticks to her even now.

Alive, but asleep, never the person she needs to be to protect you. How alone have you felt because of her? How scared?

“Lena,” Kara starts again, “Lena, she wanted you to sleep— ”

“Go in there,” Alex cuts her off, gets a very annoyed look for it, because they both can’t seem to help cutting each other off today. “You want to show her she’s not alone, that she’s safe? I promise you that the only way she’ll feel that is with you there.”

Kara nods, suddenly straightening and transforming into Supergirl just like that, just in the stance. “Hero complexes will serve nothing except separation and loneliness. You taught me that. Stronger together, Lena.”

Wanting to save you had left you alone, and yes, alone to Lena meant away from Lex, but he’s not the only scary thing in this world, and she should have known that he’d never forget how to destroy her. To leave you alone, Lena thinks, was the worst thing she could have done.

While you were away Lena had to confront herself. Had to realize that so far, every good thing in her life has come with a cost, has led to ruin, and the threat of Lex…it had just seemed to her like the time had come. Like it was her only option. To sacrifice, to sacrifice and hurt.

If Lex had won by separating the two of you, then he had one like that. In her mind, Lena had already been destroyed, of course she imagined that to be the end of it, that he wouldn’t touch you. She’d rather hurt by pushing you away than you dying. Even the thought—

God, she’s so tired of being a coward. To being so scared of losing you that she’s willing to destroy you both.

Kara and Alex hating what she’s done in the unspoken way that they do hurts even more in a way Lena’s used to, because it hurts like regret. Their stances have turned from concerned and loving, to protective heroes. She should have never left you alone. Not when she was scared of Lex, and not now. She gives both Kara and Alex a firm nod and tries to walk past to get into the room. To make things right.

Kara stops her with a hand on her shoulder. She drops it instantly when Lena turns towards her. Ever the fragile hero, always afraid of her own hands for the strength they hold. “Before that…” Kara coughs awkwardly, “Um…we need you to understand her injuries…and what happened.”

—-

When Lena walks into the room, it’s not like you thought she would. She’s not the fragile human curled up in a chair, or the terrified women fleeing your medical room. She’s angry with rage and a whirlwind of feelings, caught in a tornado of emotion. She’s large in the way she’s always been, and yet it has never left you feeling so small.

You sink back into your hospital bed, pull the covers to your chin, and watch her.

“You went after him?” Lena hisses out, so lowly, so sharply, that she might as well have cut the words into your skin for the way that it dig into you. “Everything I’ve ever done is to protect you, and you just decided to throw it all away like it means nothing? Do you have any idea—”

“You were protecting yourself!”

Lena stops. She was pacing, shaking with emotion, but she stops dead in her tracks at the sound of your voice. You yell it, and yet it’s still somehow silent. Your throat is ruined, a testament to the cruelty of Lex, and the evidence of that and more is written on your skin. You’re covered in injuries. Your brokenness has never been more visible, you think, and it should leave you feeling fragile, and it does, god it does, but right now it gives you power.

Power over Lena, who looks at you like her life hangs in the palm of her hand.

“You think I’m stupid, that I don’t know that every fiber of your being is laced with fear?” You whisper now, hand on your throbbing throat. “You left me for you, and I went after Lex for me.” Its venom. Venom, and anger, and all of the thing you know Lena takes In stride. The thing she strives on.

It hangs in the air for a second. Then Lena, beautiful Lena, kneels by the side of your bed. CEO, one of the most powerful people in this city; on her knees for you. She doesn’t look invigorated, doesn’t looked fueled by anger, just looks sad with regrets.

“I did it for me,” Lena agrees, so soft, so not like them; not like her family. “I did it for you, too. Of course I did it for you, and maybe it was a terrible thing to do—led by my trauma talking to me—but don’t lay there and deny I wasn’t thinking of you,” she breathes, then pauses, eyes tracing your busted lips, bruised face, bruised neck. Her jaw trembles and her lips part, she looks as if she wants to say more, but her eyes are haunted by the home she grew up in.

As if reading your mind Lena whispers, “they haunt me. It’s as if I can never let go. I’m so sick of it. I’m so sick of it.” She closes her eyes with furrowed brows, as if not looking at you will prevent the shake in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. For them. For them now, for them back then, and for them in the future—if you still want to be in my life, you have to know I can’t escape them. Even when they’re not there they’re there. It…god, it makes me sick.”

When Lena raises her hands and grips herself, digging her fingers into her skin like she wants to pull the trauma and memories out of herself, like she wants to get rid of them, something in you breaks. Breaks because your arms are raw and aching, and it wasn’t Lex. Breaks because you know so intimately what it’s like to face reality and find it so frustratingly unchangeable. To want so much, and for it to mean nothing is the most devastating thing.

To be so large, and so small.

You’ve been crying, and Lena doesn’t notices until a sob falls from your lips. You’ve been trying to hold it in, but when she startles up at it and looks at you with that same wanting, like you’re her heart walking and she’d give anything to take your hurt, the sobs break through like a dam. They break through and it hurts because there is no part of you left unbroken.

When you sob it disturbs your broken ribs, disturbs the bruises covering your torso, rips at your tarnished vocal cords, and has the machines in the room beeping so loud it alerts the nurses.

—-

Lena doesn’t even have time to stand before the nurses rush in and pull the blanket off of you. There’s no words to describe the shift that happens in side of her when she sees the extent of your injuries.

It’s like something both breaks and rebuilds in her, and then breaks again, paralyzing her. Then, she sees a nurse heading towards you with a syringe and it activates her.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Lena says, or thinks she says. She can’t recognize the venom in her voice, doesn’t feel apart of her body.

She’s moving in between the nurse and you, but your sobs begin to bring her back to reality.

“She needs to be put under, she’s hurting herself—”

Lena doesn’t pay attention to her, just sees Alex and Supergirl enter the room. Sees the way Alex shakes her head and nods to the corner of the room, and follows in suit while every fiber of her being says to do otherwise.

It kills her that she can’t protect you. Can’t protect you from the nurses that you try to pull away from, can’t protect you from the hurt on your skin, or in your heart, couldn’t protect you from— she thinks of Lex. Lex when he was her big, smart older brother that she admired more than anyone in the world.

She thinks of the way he’d give her a cheeky roll of his eyes behind Lillian’s back after a small verbal lashing. Thinks of every chess game, every hide n seek game, every reassuring grin. You’re smarter than they know Lena, he’d say, and she’d beam, not noticing the progressive darkness in his eyes as he said it.

Her eyes don’t leave you as the nurses put you down again. She thinks; I’ll kill him. In her peripheral she knows Kara is watching the floor, and feels Alex watching her. When the nurses cover you back up and they both turn towards you, Lena knows it was out of respect for you. She’s grateful for it—somewhere in her thunder of emotions she’s thankful for them, but also feels a bit of anger towards them.

This is why they kept her from seeing you when you were brought in?

“Why doesn’t she have a hospital gown?” Lena asks in a whisper.

“She took it off, said it hurt when the nurses moved it, and that it was sticking to her. Constricting her,” Kara explains, she sighs, shakes her head, and then turns towards Lena as Supergirl. With a fire in her eyes.

The same one in Lena as she allows herself to ask the very question she wanted to run from hours ago. “Where’s Lex?”

“No.” It’s both Supergirl and Alex.

“Alive then? Okay,” Lena starts towards the door. “If you’re here, he’s here. I’ll find him easily enough.”

Supergirl, familiarly, stands in her ways. Eyes sympathetic next to Alex’s hardness. “Where are you when you’re with them?” Alex asks from behind her. When you let them guide every bad decision you make, she hears.

Lena stops. Thinks about control, about gods, about leaving you to wake up alone again, thinks about murder, both in her blood and not, thinks about Lex with a gun to your head, with fists, and kicks, and a maniac smile, thinks about her dad in the same way—standing over Lex while Lillian gripped Lena back. She thinks of cycles, thinks of protection and all the ways it’s possible, all the ways she’s capable, more capable then him.

Smarter, Lena remembers Lillian saying casually. Always smarter than.

Better than, Kara will say.

The good one, Alex will joke.

My hero, you’d grin. Lena feels herself split. Starts forward again.

Kara whispers now, “Heroes don’t kill, Lena.”

Alex, “it’s both the best and most terrible thing about us.”

Us.

Lena wants to yell, wants to crumble, wants to curl by your side, wants to kill Lex with her bare hands, wants to erase the Luthor history from her mind, from her body, wants to erase it from yours even more. Wants it so desperately, so acutely it hurts. Sadness fills the room, suffocates them all.

Kara is watching you again, Alex keeps glancing back, they’re both unconcerned about Lena now. Full faith in her to be who they claim she is. Lena returns to the seat by your bed and allows herself to be that person.

“Whatever cell he’s in, I’m building it,” Lena whispers, thinking of the cuffs she’ll put on him, wondering if she can somehow slow down his mind.

Alex nods, running her hands down her face. The past couple hours have completely exhausted her in a way Lena’s not used to seeing from her. Alex cares so much about you, and it shouldn’t surprise Lena but It does. “We’re thinking about sending him to the phantom zone.”

Here, Lena is more surprised. They must know that’s a death sentence. Lena glances at Supergirl, she’s still watching you but she’s clearly listening, her eyes have turned hard. They aren’t underestimating Lex. They clearly know the responsibility that’ll bear on them if he escapes again.

Lena feels another bought of gratitude towards them as she takes your hand, and trusts them to handle the person she trusts no one to handle.

——

When you wake up the second time it’s because nurses are dapping you with wet cloths, clearly trying to clean you. They apologize profusely, say they thought the drugs would keep you down longer, and offer to finish the cleaning after you’ve gotten more pain killers.

Your eyes dart around rapidly, chest constricting in anxiety, and then you see Lena. She’s standing by the door, clearly trying to keep out of the nurses way. She’s not full of rage and untouchable in that way, and she’s not fragile, she’s strong.

Her eyes are hard, but not cold. They’re determined, and loving, and they’re your strength too. You suck in a shaky breath, whisper; “thank you. Later might be an option”, as you try to focus on Lena and not the thought of the nurses hands on you turning into Lex’s violent ones.

When they all shuffle out Lena quietly returns to the spot by your bed. This Lena somehow makes you feel more fragile than angry, furious Lena had, because in the place of your defensiveness you’re left to feel your guilt.

“I’m…I’m not weak, Lena.” It feels stupid to claim now as you lay in a hospital bed feeling nothing but. You clench your jaw. Lena’s hand reaches up and takes your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. She’s not gentle, certainly not rough, but her firmness gives you the power to continue. She’s the stable ground that helps you find your footing.

You find it. Meet her gaze unblinking. “I’m not Supergirl, I’m not you, I’m not Alex, or Jon, or Winn, or James, or Kelly, or— or Lex…I’m not capable in the particular ways you guys are, but I am capable.”

Lena’s eyes fall to your throat. You grip her wrist, the one holding your face, and her eyes meet yours apologetically. “I know,” she says, so softly, so quietly. “You being here is the evidence of it, isn’t it?”

You nod, but you aren’t done. “I’m not sure what Supergirl told you. Clearly she told you I went after Lex, and in a way that’s true, but more so I wanted him to come after me,” you pause. Lena is watching you with furrowed eyes, clearly trying to piece together what you’re explaining before you finish.

Her lips part after just another moment. She’s figured it out you realize, feeling a bit of pride because of it. Pride because she has faith in you, pride because she‘s so incredibly quick and you have had the privilege to know her so acutely. “All of this…was your plan?” Lena asks, sounding both shocked and not.

You wince, brushing aside her hand so you can look down, adverting your gaze. “Well…not all of it.” Memories flash through your mind. “I thought he’d keep me captive, not…” you left out a frustrated breath, angry, so angry at yourself for not being able to speak about it. Speak about him.

“It was a game to him, of course. He’d torture me, send you a video to torture you. He’d get you chasing him. He’s always liked the thrill.” Your eyes stay on Lena’s fists. Watch as they clench so tightly to her side that they shake. “I knew he loved messing with you, and was partly counting on it, not like that but— but maybe just having me wouldn’t have been enough, maybe it was good he did what he did—got so high off of it his guard lowered.”

“Don’t say that,” Lena pleads. You startle up at the sound of her trembling voice doing everything not to cry.

You breathe in; your ribs hurt. You breathe out; they hurt again. Lena shakes her head at herself, frustrated and biting her lip. She’s having a battle with composure and losing.

“Kara told me how you stole his nanotech and used it to immobilize him. That the tech that was missing from my lab last week was found with the stuff he confiscated from you. That you hacked his computer with my prototype to send her the location to his headquarters underground,” Lena rushes out, “I didn’t know you planned to get taken to his HQ, to steal his nanotech, didn’t know that anyone besides me and the DEO knew what he was working on.”

It’s a quick summary of the things you’ve done, leaving out the weeks of planning, leaving out the struggles of actually setting the plan in motion when the shifting variables shifted in a way you weren’t prepared for. It should leave you proud, but when you think of what you managed all you remember is pain and struggle.

“You stopped Lex like you planned. So many people are saved because of you. An unfathomable amount, and yet,”she says. And yet, you think, heart fluttering because you know Lena will say the very thought that kills you to think of, but the thought that can’t escape you anyways. “What…what you did was monumental, and thank you, but god, I so wish you hadn’t,” Lena breathes. “He gone, and yet he has never been so present. Perhaps you felt the effects of him through me before, but you know now what it’s like to have him really present, always right over your shoulder, and that…I would’ve given the world for otherwise.”

It’s exactly the same thoughts you have had. To hear it from Lena, someone you admire and trust so much, someone you believe to be good with every piece of you, someone you’d follow everywhere—it’s like a medicine for guilt.

“What I said before…about doing what I did for me,” Lena shakes her head, ever understanding, like she doesn’t need you to finish. You do though. “I did it for me because I wanted desperately for you to still be mine, and getting rid of Lex was the avenue for that,” you admit. “I didn’t want him to plague you anymore either.”

You hesitate. Memories of Lena pacing at night—startling awake, watching the news with the grimness of someone attending a funeral—memories of Lena’s affectedness come to you. Her humaneness at hearing Lex escaped again, and in her humanity in her vulnerability.

“I want to take responsibility, so I don’t want to say I did it for you, but what you said earlier made me realize everything is a bit of both. I did it for me, I did it for you too.”

Lena laughs. Laughs. It shocks you, causes you to jump and stop looking at your hand, causes you to meet her gaze again. “Ow,” you growl, unamused, because Lena is still laughing. She’s covering her face and has the decency to look apologetic.

Your ribs hurt from the startle but even you can’t help but be confusedly amused.

“I want to hate,” Lena starts, mirth in her voice, “that you did the thing I wanted you to do least in the world, and you got exactly what you wanted out of it. You captured lex, and in a way captured me back too.”

“Oh,” you perk up, smiling up at Lena innocently. “Guess I’m the brains now, brawn.”

Lena’s eyes narrow at you. “That insinuates that you were ever the brawn.”

Back to glaring. Lena lets out another huff of laughter and brushes your hair back, away from a cut on your forehead. Her eyes are so soft, so full of warmth, and love that you could cry. Would cry, perhaps, if it wouldn’t hurt every part of your body.

Instead you grin, because that’s what humans are taught to do instead of cry, and ask, gently—feeling like a shaky child; “does that mean you’re my girlfriend again?”

—-

Lena’s eyes widen as she realizes what she implied, and as you own up to it so hesitantly, so childlike, like Lena could ever think of pushing you away after everything. Her words, not for the first time today, betray her. All she can do is nod.

Your responding grin is heroin to Lena. You smile so wide the cut on your lip breaks open again and starts bleeding, but you pay it no mind. Lena does. She smiles back, albeit more gently, and squishes your cheeks together to prevent the split widening.

You pout in her hands. Lena’s heart flutters. She keeps getting hit randomly with momentous emotion, and she’s hit again with it now. The softness of this moment feels like seeing a rainbow after months of storms.

You here, alive, looking at Lena with so much love in your eyes, so much understanding. It feels like a fantasy. Feels like a lucid dream, a dream she’d choose, over, and over again, until the end of time.

Lena leans in and kisses you—not on the lips, they are cut and bruised. She kisses you on the space just below your eye. A spot, one of the few spots, clear of visible injury. She takes pleasure in the way you flush like it’s the first time. She always did, will always do. “I love you,” Lena whispers, promising herself that even if there are days you won’t believe her, there will never be a day you don’t hear it.

It’s you, and it’s her, and it’s the mountains of history and trauma you two are fighting against. Lena likes the both of your odds. Loves winning just as much.

You’ll beat Lex she knows. There will be a day soon where he stops haunting the two of you. Where he’s not even a thought. When that time comes you’ll have won the war, but for now she’ll take the pride of winning every battle in stride, for now, in the now; she’ll cherish every moment, the many moments, when trauma leaves the room and love consumes it.

“Lena Luthor,” you breathe. You breathe. “My love, my hero.”

[littleguypumpkinsheep]

I care. Come rant to me about your worldbuilding, amigo.

HHHHAHAHGA OKAY. THANK YOU…. I will use this as an excuse to yap for thirty million years.

I will talk about plot things first, or world building.

Pierre is the sheriff of Fruit of Javelina. He has two right hand men, Andrew and Daniel, and a wife, Christine. The couple came from France and travelled to America during the end of the westward expansion to cash in on it and the people who never managed to settle in. Pierre chose Javelina because he thought it would be easy to control, seeing as it was an extremely small town with minority groups as the main population. And for a while, that was true. Pierre set as many laws as he wanted about anything he wanted, and sent whoever he wanted to jail under his so called law. He didn’t “hate” the colored residents, he just exploited them because it was easy and considered normal to do. And above all it made him money. What he did hate, though, was queer people. And he had unknowingly chose a town full of them. Over time his rules and sense of justice became crueler and more of a dictatorship. He absolutely hated the queer residents of “his” town and abused them frequently, but he was also keenly aware of the money they made. Adrien, Lionel, Mandy, Ramsie, Annabelle… they were all successful. Adrien was a famous rodeo cowboy that stopped by Javelina frequently to catch a break from the busier towns. Mandy And Ramsie owned a ranch and farm that exported their crops. Lionel owned and ran his own saloon, and Annabelle owned and ran her own brothel, both of which frequently brought in customers from outside towns. A sense of unrest and frustration filled Javelina, as though they very well knew they were being exploited, they couldn’t realistically do anything about it. They’d be jailed or killed.

And Christine, indoctrinated by her husband’s misogynistic and homophobic views, treated the women of Javelina just as poorly. Many came to her with complaints about her husband, hoping that because she too was a woman, that she would understand. But it was the opposite. For a time Annabelle was forced to shut down her brothel and return the building to its former function as a hotel, although of course she continued her business in secret.

That is, of course, until Sheep shot and killed him during an altercation. Annabelle took Christine in and rehabilitated her, and Sheep marked that day as the last time they’d ever draw their gun.

MISC INFO:

It’s rumored that Pierre and Christine were in a lavender marriage because of how much they hated each other, and never once touched in public. After Pierre was killed, Christine discovered and explored her bi curiosity, and Daniel confided that he and Pierre had been “very close friends”. If so, Pierre never got to explore his sexuality before his death.

Adriens rodeo outfit was originally red without any theming to it. Years of working in the sun faded it to a pink, and he decided to run with it and add heart embellishments to it. It became more popular with fans that way as well. (It’s also why his regular wardrobe isn’t particularly pink.)

Adrien and Lionel sometimes do pinup photos for Annabelle’s brothel.

Pumpkin Sheep is TwoSpirit.

Sheep is also good with children, and acts as the official, unofficial babysitter for the parents in town when they’re needed. Acts as a father and mother figure for Ramsie as well.

Adrien is a chronic gambler and is extremely good at it. Frequently drains the wallets of anyone he plays with, but he always returns the money after the game. It’s only the thrill he’s looking for. If he loses, he’ll let his opponent keep what they earned off him.

Lionel brews and distills his own alcohol, and is renowned for the incredible quality at such a low price even outside of Javelina.

[epickiya722]

You know what, season 2 broke a lot of our hearts, didn't it? Well, here's some moments I thought were funny, heartwarming and just off the wall to lighten things up!

Starting with the Hidden Inventory/Premature Death Arc and if y'all want, I'll do a part 2 for the Shibuya Incident!

NOTE: I may have talked about some of these moments before in other posts.

Utahime, just all of Utahime in the first episode. She's awesome, I adore her. "SHOOOOKOOOO!!"

Chibi Satoru and Suguru. Especially the part of Suguru walking up the stairs as the others were talking. "Urusei."

"SENSEI, I SAY WE STOP THIS HUNT FOR THE CULPRIT!"

"SO IT WAS YOU!"

"Blegh!"

Shoko dipping out.

Suguru was really about to jump Satoru with a curse!!!

The fact that Suguru even went from wearing regular-waist pants to high-waist ones from manga to anime is glorious. Whoever decided that knew Suguru was meant to be a fashion icon.

Digimon

That WALK!!! Y'all, those are Special Grade sorcerers!

Suguru scowling Satoru on his behavior, also... "Satorrruuu~" Did he have to purr? That was a purr!

I love Satoru Gojo, I do. But with those glasses, he really do be looking like one of the Three Blind Mice from Shrek.

I don't know how but Toji somehow made saying he took his wife's last name scary. Like, he was very intimidating that it bypass me the first time of how cute it is that he loved Mamaguro a lot.

They actually added Suguru fixing himself a cup of tea in the anime!! This teenager really had that man captured by some Kissing Curse, told him he couldn't be a rice farmer and had himself some tea. Iconic.

Ooh, Satoru didn't have to do Bayer like that. But I applaud him for taking such a selfie!

Shoko trying to explain how RCT works actually irritated Satoru... which is rare!

Riko actually was the first to defeat Satoru. Did him dirty!! Suguru actually laughs at Satoru getting slapped while in the anime he looks shocked. Either way, his reaction is funny as hell.

"You look like a liar! And what's up with those bangs?" Then Riko got jumped for that!

Suguru's bangs ain't that bad, come on!

Knowing how Suguru turns out, it's something he's the one to tell Kuroi that she's Riko's family. Years later, he had his own "family". It's actually heartwarming he tells her that.

That old man didn't even get touched yet and he was already seeing his dead dog from 50 years ago!! Man's life flashed right before his eyes and he even says that! The whooping Suguru put on him was so bad that he was having visions!!

The one time Satoru is shown to have some sort of charm is with a bunch of school girls. The teacher should be locked up though.

Baghead man really had on the All Might cosplay.

Toji didn't have to say a word to that man and he still scared him shitless. Alright, Toji, I see you being all scary!

Satoru really be carrying kids like they're bags of groceries. Did it with Yuji, he did it with Riko.

"I failed!"

Kuroi being rescued! Satoru really stomped on those guys!

The plane scene. Satoru checking each passenger all with a glare. Meanwhile, Suguru was just chilling with a book, sitting there all pretty.

The whole beach scene!! "IT'S A SEA CUCUMBER!!"

Teen Kento having that hairstyle and his dynamic with Yu is just too adorable. He looks like he has Wii music playing in his head all day. Such a good kid!!

I cannot believe that DIO's VA is also Toji's. It's funnier when Toji has had beef with Satoru as a kid and DIO has had generational beef with the Joestars.

I just know that Worm Curse was having the time of its life on Toji's back while he was jumping around and being tossed about. Also, Toji smiling the whole time while fighting.

Suguru actually has mad hops! Did y'all not see that long ass jump?!

Squid gun. Speaking of, where in the hell did all those squids come from?! I need a story on that one!

Toji talking about how he fights for a while before Suguru tells him to shut up and due.

"Am I pretty?" "Sorry, you're not my type." Okay, well, damn.

The Worm Curse pretty much "NOPE" at Suguru.

That kick was fucking personal, I just know it! Also, the fact that Toji actually thought about the curses inhabiting Suguru's body is something. Especially, given later. I actually question that when Suguru dies in JJK 0, did Satoru have to deal with any curses?

Toji remembering Megumi.

Also, if you pay attention to the Worm, that thing sometimes matches Toji's expressions. It's like Reki and his headband (SK8 the Infinity).

Satoru standing all menacingly outside for Toji.

"Is he high?" Well, given that a few moments later he'll be floating in the air.

The fact that people have described Toji's death as "turned into the Apple logo" to "the Rengoku treatment". Y'all are out of pocket! And he looked so disappointed, too.

"Mommy... hug me..." That scene is just...

"I like girls with healthy appetites!" Yu, never change!!

Yuki's reaction to what Suguru tells her about what he has heard about her. "She's pouting."

"I heard you the first time. That's why I said 'huh'!" Bro was just that mad.

Shoko. Just Shoko when she and Suguru meet in Shinjuku.

Heartbreaking as the scene is, you had one lanky ass teenager looking deranged on one end and the other with the "I'm going to the store real quick" fit on having this fight in front of KFC. Becomes even funnier when you remember the slogan "finger lickin' good". What does this have to do with anything? Think about Yuji.

One, where did Suguru get the robes from? Two, given he was born the following year in February after Satoru, if I did my calculations right... Suguru really started a cult at 17. No wonder there were objections. After he killed that guy, I'm sure everyone was like "oh, he's unhinged".

Okay, but the head rubs he gave the twins were so cute!! Look, they may been raised as killers, but it's sweet that they were Suguru's family. He adored those girls and they adored him!

The first meeting between Megumi and Satoru!!

Satoru waking up and seeing his students was just so heartwarming!!!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite mulder moments from s2

him having no faith in episode 1 after the x files are terminated, not even believing what he knows to be true regarding his sister’s disappearance

(and then being the moodiest motherfucker for the foreseeable future)

the fact that he got a fish in between s1 and s2. this brought me so much joy, you don’t even know

his monologue in episode 1, addressed to scully, who was not present: “before I could only trust myself, now I can only trust you, and they’ve taken you away from me… my life up until this point has been about seeing her again, but what would I do if they really come?” <- dear goddddddd. sometimes you get some lines that cut right to the heart of a character and this is one such example.

seeing his horrific workspace where he listened to audio recordings, a job he loathed- it was covered in sunflower seeds, pages with doodles, him stabbing an empty cup. truly a man with no fucks to give.

very very very fluffy hair in the early episodes

when episode 5 opens on him swimming in a big pool. there really was no narrative reason for that except we now know he swims recreationally and that is exactly the kind of thing i’m interested in knowing.

in episode 6, when he meets scully’s mom after her kidnapping, he listens to her say she dreamt of her being taken away, and hugs her

(and all throughout that episode, how he was told to go home because he was too close to the case, but instead got more and more involved. he even drove out to try and find her while falling asleep behind the wheel. dangerous behavior)

((and when he thinks scully is at the top of the mountain, he pulls his gun on the man who runs the ski lift to MAKE SURE he can get to the top as quick as possible. this one was WILD to me. pulling a gun on someone, just to get to her as fast as he can!!!!! he did not care about proper protocol! job be damned he was getting her HOME))

(and when they finally DO get duane barry, he sees scully's blood and hair on his wristband, and starts CHOKING him. you do NOT want to mess around with this man. he tells krychek that NO ONE is to interrogate the suspect but him. NO ONE. he is in what i affectionately refer to as bloodhound mode; there shall be no rest until an answer is sleuthed out)

trying to return scully’s necklace to her mother, who refuses to take it, so he can give it back to her

he has a lot of really emotional moments with scully’s mom, such as telling her she can’t give up hope even as they are picking up her gravestone in episode 8, which he cannot bear to look at

when scully is found, he bursts into the hospital, screaming at the doctor and saying he’ll do anything to figure out what they did to her, to the point where he had to be escorted from the room

(also love when he’s waiting to hear news on how she is doing, and he’s pacing his apartment, bouncing a ball, entirely unable to sit still, he’s so terrified)

after she is found, x tells him to walk away and never look back, and he immediately disregards this information to go chase down whoever knew anything about scully’s disappearance

when her family decides its time to remove her life support, he refuses to go in with them, looking the saddest and wettest a man has ever been

“you could spend the rest of your life finding every person that’s responsible, and it’s still not gonna bring her back”, says melissa. “including myself?” he asks. always taking the blame.

breaking into CIGARETTE MAN’S HOUSE. gun to his head. why her, he asks.

his confrontation scene with skinner, who refuses to accept his one-sentence resignation letter, and who tells him of his own demons. allowing for some skinner lore and deep connections to be made.

again in episode 8, he’s waiting in his apartment for the folks who took scully to arrive so he can kill them, but melissa puts him into his place- “why is it so much easier for you to run around trying to get even than just expressing to her how you feel? i expect more from you. dana expects more from you”

so he leaves his apartment and the one chance he’ll ever have to know who did this to her, and instead goes to sit by her bedside, holds her hand, and talks to her comatose body

(then, we he returns to his apartment, which has been ransacked by those involved with the crime, he falls to the ground, sobbing)

but how BIG he smiled when he heard that her eyes were open!!

in episode 9, when he finally has her back, how he helps her out of the helicopter when they fly to a distant volcano research base <3

also, in episode 10, when they’re being driven to a farm, and he lets her take shotgun so he can lounge about in the back

when he drops this banger line while sitting at a picnic table in episode 12: “i’ve often felt that dreams are the answers to questions we haven’t yet figured out how to ask” (and then does not elaborate)

at the aforementioned picnic table, the detective vaguely describes seeing some sort of symbol, and he immediately realizes it was the logo for the 1939 world’s fair, which is SO funny to me. because WHY does he know that!

when he lifts the caution tape over scully so she can bring her umbrella to the rainy crime scene in episode 13 <3

talking to a random guy in a town they’re visiting for an investigation: “you know andy” “no, I don’t” “well, andy knows you” <- another instance of him being famous in the nerd community

all the times he starts rambling about different belief systems, like the idea of obtaining a new soul in the ep 13, or the concept of wicca in episode 14

when they go to the refugee camp in episode 15, and a child tries to sell them a good luck charm, which he pays a nice $5 bill for

getting hit by a car in episode 16, and then making some dumbass quip about how he should have used the crosswalk

going back home when his "sister" is found, tucking his mom into bed with a kiss

then his dad confronting him, blaming him for losing his sister in episode 17,  leaving him crying as he tries to process the grief of getting her back just to feel guilty for her death

(don’t worry though- it wasn’t really her. but damn, he thought it was, and this scene was devastating)

finding his faith again with scully at his bedside after almost dying of alien poison

when he goes for a jog in florida (episode 20), arguably the hottest and most miserable of all continental US states, in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. and i cannot explain this behavior. he is deeply peculiar.

on the investigation of the sideshow performers, he flirts with the man fixing scully’s pipes to get him to leave. or as i call it: “weaponized bisexuality”

when he slides through a tiny trap door in a haunted house to come and find scully. great visual gag. i chuckled.

feeling sick at home, taking advil in his slutty little tanktop in episode 25. then proceeding to go wild because he was being drugged. don’t worry, he ends up okay. thanks only to scully.

[millersdjarin]

Some Invisible String

Chapter I: High Tide

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Summary: Ten years after Reader left Joel for reasons he still doesn't know, they find themselves together again in a town called Jackson. Joel has questions he's too afraid to ask; and Reader dreads having to give the answers.

Tags/Warnings: eventual smut, post tlou part I, jackson era joel <3, emotion!!!

Chapter length: 3.3k

notes: my first multi-chapter joel fic! overall title is from taylor swift's "invisible string", chapter I title also from taylor, "this love" ♥︎ eventual smut will be here too! so far it's going to be 5 chapters :) enjoy! ps. i recently switched to writing in second person but when i wrote this fic i was still writing in first person, hope u don't mind! will be posting updates regularly

I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. Really, I don’t. 

But, then again, nothing has been a good idea in twenty years, and I’m still here. So, there’s that. 

One minute I was out hunting in the snow, tracking a deer that made itself vulnerable in the woods beside a half-frozen creek. If I could get him, I thought, it’d keep me going with food for a week at least. Best thing about winter: food stays fresh in the cold. 

Worst thing: everything else. Literally everything else. 

Because now, what started as a quick hunt with an almost-guaranteed prize at the end, has ended in me literally fighting for my fucking life, rolling around in foot-deep snow as runners try to rip the shit out of me. 

It doesn’t help that the commotion has led a bunch of local hunters—who clearly had the same idea as me—to my location. They’ve got the deer, they’ve shot me in the leg, and I’m either going to bleed out, get bitten, or get eaten by infected. 

So, this is great. 

Blood rushing in my ears, I seize the moment a hunter shoots one of the nearby runners and use it to take shelter behind a rock for a minute, surrounded by the groans and screams of infected who are still searching for me or attacking the hunters. Gunshots ring loud throughout the air, along with the smashing of a few molotovs as the bottles hit the snow, the roaring of flames as they engulf bodies. 

My leg is bleeding into the snow. Actually, it’s damn near gushing, pulsing out with each beat of my heart. 

Footsteps are getting closer to me. I try to put pressure on the wound, but the bullet is still there, and it fucking hurts, and my vision is going blurry. The screams of infected are getting less and less as, presumably, the men take them out. 

I’m not bitten. Not yet. But that’s the least of my worries, if the pool of red snow I’m creating below me is anything to go by. 

It’s starting to leech into the snow surrounding the rock, easily giving away my location. As the last infected screams with a squelch of a blade into one of its body parts, one of the men shouts, “Hey! She’s over there! Flank her!” 

Ha. As if they even need to flank me. 

My head is spinning. Blood, shiny and thick, coats my hands. It’s all over me. It’s fucking everywhere. It won’t stop bleeding. 

I’m going to fucking die. 

These men are going to kill me, or do worse while they wait for me to die. Surviving the apocalypse as a woman is a fucking joke. 

I reach for my gun, but there are spots in my vision now. Dark red and black. It’s a mixture of real blood in my eyes and blood loss making me dizzy. I can feel it fading. All of it. The cold, the feeling in my body, the sound around me, everything…

It’s fading. 

There are heavy, men’s footsteps getting closer. 

I’m just debating whether I have the strength to fight back, or even to just end it all myself before they get chance, when I hear it. 

A new gun. A new set of voices. The hunters’ attention is turned away from me once more as their footsteps crunching in the snow turn away and head for whoever else has decided to grace us with their presence. 

It doesn’t matter. I’m out anyway. After all this time, all this fighting, after everything I’ve lost—I’m going to die here in the snow, in the middle of nowhere in Jackson County, after being shot by a fucking hunter. 

Then, I hear a voice. 

It could be a southern accent. I could swear that it is - that it’s real.

But I always knew that in my last moments I’d hear him, real or not. It’s been ten years, but I still hear him in the night sometimes, as I’m falling asleep or jolting awake. Sometimes when I get injured, I hear him tutting, I feel his fingers on my skin, patching me up. 

Now, sitting here dying in the snow, I could swear that it’s him.

It’s not. It can’t be. 

But as the last of my consciousness fades, as I feel the final thread of me begin to fray, I let myself believe that it is. 

I hold onto the sound. So clear, like he’s right there next to me. 

I never wanted to die alone. I’m going to pretend that I won’t. 

“Joel…” I feel his name slip through my lips for the first time in years. 

His name, and his voice saying my name in return, are the last things I hear before I go. 

-

Well, goddamn. 

If this is hell, there is no fire, so it could be worse; but if it’s heaven, Jesus, I don’t want it.

I can’t even wake up. My eyes feel heavy. It’s like I’m clawing back to consciousness after a bad fever. After a surgery that went wrong. Before I can even think or begin to open my eyes or listen for sounds, I can feel that every inch of me hurts. Like I’ve been cut open, rearranged, and sewn back together again. 

So, it’s not heaven. Cool. Fine. I’m going to suffer for eternity, then? 

Except, when I hear it, I freeze. (Metaphorically speaking. I’m already frozen in whatever spot I’ve been cursed to.) 

“She’s waking up.” That isn’t Joel. But it’s similar, and familiar. It sounds like...

Why the hell is Tommy here?

Then, it’s his voice again. My name, in Joel’s voice. 

If nothing else, the confusion gets me to force my eyes open. 

And the first thing I see is him. 

“Hey,” Joel says, “can you hear me? Wake up…you’re safe…” 

I blink a few times. Then, beneath the pain in my body, I realise that I’m warm. I’m under something soft and cosy; a wool blanket, it feels like, if the scratching against my bare arms is anything to go by. 

Any other sensation doesn’t really matter right now, though, because I can’t take my eyes off of Joel. He’s just there, hovering above me with even more creases on his forehead than I remember, an especially big one sitting between his eyebrows right now that looks like someone’s drawn it there. 

“You’re alright, you’re alright,” he sounds distant but close all at once, and soft and gruff just like he used to. 

“I…” I manage to stammer while I vaguely register that there is daylight around us, though it’s fading into shades of amber and pink. Approaching sunset. Last I remember, it had only just risen.

Not without struggle, I get my body to move, but the second I shift in my place, a blinding pain shoots from my leg to all angles, hitting my head and my toes. 

Well. I’m starting to think I’m not actually dead. 

“Hey, don’t try to move, you’re hurt,” Joel says again. 

Joel. 

...Joel? 

Joel!? 

“J—Joel?” As I start to realise that it seems I am very much alive, somehow that fact just makes for more confusion. I look around, and Tommy is there, too, standing by the room’s window, leaning on the butt of his rifle where it sits at his chest, the barrel facing the floor. He looks older, too. Much older. He’s got almost as many wrinkles and greys as Joel does now. 

Someone else enters the picture after a minute. A woman with a frown of concern pushes Joel away—in my delirium I almost forget that he’s probably real, and that it wouldn’t be appropriate to reach out and pull him back—and then her face is above mine, shining a torch in my eyes. 

I squint against it but she holds my eyes open and inspects them. “How are you feeling?” She asks. Her voice is husky but kind, the faintest trace of a Brooklyn accent making itself known. 

“I—confused,” is all I can say, dumbly. Joel is standing behind her, looking over her shoulder with a frown that reaches new depths. (He frowned a lot back in the day, but geez, he’s got even better at it.) “Where am I? Who—who are you?” 

“I’m Angela,” she answers, removing the blinding torch from my eyes, instead pressing two firm fingers into the pulse point on my wrist. “You’re in a town called Jackson. It seems you already know these two fellas.” 

“I—yeah,” I manage to laugh a little in disbelief. Tommy is still there on the opposite side of the room, smiling just a little, fond and nostalgic. It’s then that Angela’s words hit me. A town? “I…is this…am I…the hunters…you…?” My words aren’t coherent or related enough to count as a sentence, or even a completed question. 

“It’s our town,” Tommy says with a small smile. “You got nothin’ to worry about. No one here’s a hunter, and you’re in good hands.” He nods to Angela. 

I look back to her and frown at the way she’s wrapping a blood pressure cuff around my arm. “Are you…a doctor?” 

“I am,” she answers. “You got shot. Lost a lot of blood. These two found you just outside town with barely enough time—or blood—to spare.” 

I can’t stop glancing between Angela, Joel, and Tommy. It’s like I’m watching a tennis match between three people. 

I’m still not entirely sure this is real. In a fever dream, or even in my last moments, my brain would definitely conjure up something like this. A safe town, where I’m under a warm blanket, on a soft bed, and being looked after by two people who used to be the most important people in my life. 

“I…” I’m interrupted by the door swinging open. It lets in a brief shock of cold wind, but Joel quickly reaches out to close it behind whoever has just come in. 

“Ellie, I told you to wait outside,” Joel says lowly, so quiet I can barely hear him. 

“It’s freezing out there! And I’m worried. Is she awake—?” The girl—Ellie, apparently—pushes past Joel to look over Angela’s shoulder at me. Her concerned frown relaxes when she sees me. She’s just a kid; probably barely fifteen. I’ve never seen her before, but she’s looking at me like she was terrified I was going to die. “Oh, you’re awake!” 

“I…am.…”

Joel puts his hand on Ellie’s shoulder and gently pulls her back a little. “Give her some space. Angela’s still working.” 

“You know, she’s the best. Last month Joel dislocated his shoulder and she reset it before he could even scream—”

“Alright,” Joel interrupts her, “Ellie. Why don’t you get our guest some food, alright?” 

“Something hot,” Angela requests. 

A hot meal and a comfortable bed. This has to be some kind of pre-death dream.

“It’s almost dinner time at the kitchen,” Tommy offers with a knowing smile, “see what you can rustle up.” 

Ellie sighs, but nods. Before turning to leave, she looks at me again and says, “I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll get you the good stuff.” 

The door lets in another whoosh of cold air, but Joel closes it as soon as possible. It’s then that I realise there’s a fireplace on the wall behind the bed; the flames crackle in the light breeze before settling down again. 

“I need to check your wound,” Angela says. “Don’t suppose one of you boys can help me out? I need someone to distract her.” 

“Distract me? From what?” 

“I’m gonna take off your bandage and check the stitches. Then I’m gonna clean it. It’s going to hurt.” 

“I don’t need distracting,” I say, meaning it. I’ve dealt with worse. Hell, somehow I survived this. But Joel is still gazing at me, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe, like he’s scanning for even the slightest inkling that something else is wrong they haven’t noticed yet. (Seems unlikely—I’m wearing different clothes than I was before.)

Mentally squirming under his gaze for the first time in a long time, when I never thought I would again, I realise that I might not need distracting, but I do need answers. 

Or something close to it. 

“I’ll stay,” Joel offers, as if reading my mind. He was always so good at that. It’s weird. Someone so emotionally unavailable shouldn’t be good at that. 

Tommy pushes off from the wall, stopping at the foot of my bed. “Don’t be afraid to break his hand,” he offers, grinning lopsidedly, “man needs an excuse to stop for one goddamn minute.” He grins at Joel when he grumbles in response. “I’ll be outside. Need anythin’, give me a holler.” And with that, he’s out the door. 

Angela carefully pulls the blanket up and away from my leg, revealing the side of my thigh where the bullet went in. It hurts for something to even be moving in close proximity to it, like my skin is on red alert. 

I wish I could say I’ve gotten good at hiding my pain, after all these years of surviving it; but I haven’t. It still shows on my face like it did the day the outbreak happened; like it did when I was barely an adult.

Joel knows. He pulls up a wooden chair beside my bed, offers up his scarred, calloused hand. There’s an expression on his face I can’t quite read. The faintest hints of a sheepish smile, maybe, crows feet deepening around his eyes. It looks like he’s saying, Funny seein’ you here, and I can hear that in his voice, gruff and sarcastic, so I just imagine that that’s what he’s trying to say. 

I glance down at his hand, then back up. For a moment I consider not taking it. 

It’s been ten years. 

I left for a reason. 

But then Angela starts pulling at the bandage wrapped tight around my leg, and the pain is fucking horrific. It’s a stabbing, a pulling, and an aching all at once. It starts at the bullet wound and pulses out like cracks of lightning, through my bones, my nerves, up my hips and to my neck. 

A sharp inhale through my teeth, a blinding flash of pain that whites out my vision for a second, and I’m reaching for Joel’s hand before I can even think any more about it.

“Why don’t you tell me what the hell you’re doin’ here?” Joel’s voice comes through the blood rushing through my ears. “Last I saw you, we were in Texas.”

“What—what am I doing here?” I laugh, incredulous, and gasp as another wave of pain comes. “I don’t even—know—where I am.” Angela is working away and it hurts, it fucking hurts. But I think, at least, this is the final piece of proof I needed to confirm that I am not actually dead.

That, and the way Joel’s thumb is smoothing over the top of my hand, even though I’m squeezing his so hard that it must hurt like fuck. He’s doing it like he’s not even thinking about it. Like it’s second nature. 

I left for a reason. 

“You’re in Jackson,” he says. 

“I know that. I just—don’t—” I grunt in between words as Angela takes alcohol to the wound. “I don’t know how far—how far you took me—”

“You were barely outside the town. The hunters that got you were bandits on their way to us."

"Right," I say, still not really understanding.

"So it’s just coincidence we found ourselves together again?” 

Yes! I left for a fucking reason! 

I’m realising I’m not saying it out loud. 

I’m not saying it out loud because I never even told Joel there was a reason, let alone what that reason actually was. 

“I—guess so,” I grit out. “Sometimes the Universe likes to laugh at us. I—oh, Jesus!” A particularly intense stab of pain comes as Angela starts dabbing at the wound. It’s a bruise, a gash, a cut, all at once. 

“It’s alright, hey, just look at me,” Joel’s voice comes, so familiar that it hurts, so soft that it hurts—“Look right at me. That’s it. Do you remember where you were when this happened?” 

“I—in the snow,” I answer, staring into his eyes like they’re a lifeline. Angela has started wrapping a new bandage around it now, tight and secure. It hurts. It just fucking hurts. Everything fucking hurts. “The forest. I was—hunting for food. Then…infected. Infected came and—then—hunters…” 

Joel nods, encouraging me to continue. 

I can’t, though. The pain is too much. Looking at him is too much. 

I screw my eyes shut, and a traitorous, humiliating tear spills from one of them. In frustration, a groan splits past my lips, and I reach up my other hand to wipe away the tear. 

“Nearly done,” Angela promises.

My teeth are biting down on my lip so hard that I can taste blood; but the pain of that is paling in comparison to everything else, so it doesn’t bother me. 

“God fucking dammit,” I grunt as another tear falls. 

Down to my very core, it is humiliating. 

To be here, writhing in pain, and crying in front of Joel, of all people. Crying during the apocalypse. Crying because he’s there. Because his eyes are still the same.

I’ve always been too soft. I was never as hard as Joel. Or as anyone else around me. 

As a kid, books always said that being soft was a strength in its own way. That it was a quality to be proud of. But in this world, all it’s ever brought me is close to death.

“All done,” Angela says. 

Though the pain is still very much alive and well, I breathe out a sigh of relief, waiting eagerly for it to ebb. Realising I’m still holding onto Joel’s hand so tight that my knuckles have gone white, I release him, and take a deep breath. 

“Good job,” he says. Whether he’s saying it to me or Angela, I’m not sure. He observes his hand, lifting it up to look at as he stretches his fingers out. “Jesus, woman. Gonna need a new hand after that.” 

I laugh, breathy. “I had permission.” 

“From Tommy,” Joel counters with a grumble. 

“I knew you wouldn’t mind.” I say it before I can give it permission. And the softness in my voice—well. That’s just downright not fair. 

Joel’s eyes meet mine again. He holds them there for a moment too long. Looks like he might want to say something, but then doesn’t, and stands up. His green flannel shirt stretches so nicely over his shoulders, even broader now than they were back then. His hair is flecked with grey, as is his beard, which is longer now. 

I used to lie awake at night and imagine running my fingers over it. I used to cherish the way my hands fit over his shoulders when he boosted me up onto a ledge. The way the muscles in his arms flexed and showed veins when I hoisted him up behind me. 

We used to be a team, me, him, and Tommy. 

Now, staring at him as he leans against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest, I think about those times. I can’t help it. There are dark and grey hairs on his chest, peeking up above the top button. I remember how his heart feels under there from the time I had to stitch up a gash there. I remember his pulse, from keeping my finger on it all night when he was feverish from an infected knife wound. 

Tommy and I nursed him back, but I thought we’d lost him. 

I thought a lot of things.

And, well. There was no other choice. 

I left.

♥︎chapter 1/5♥︎

notes: if u wanna be on the taglist, let me know however you'd like: in a reblog, reply, message, or an ask :) all interactions are appreciated, but comments and reblogs especially make my heart go brrr♡ happy tlou show day btw :D

[wifetomegatron]

thinking about how dratchet would be the best girl dads (fluff)

just imagine a first contact au where cybertron's beyond repair, and so whoever's left after the war has to migrate & reintegrate into earth society ( including the lost light crew ). And of course, the first thing drift does is adopt a human daughter.

ratchet was initially against it and didn't even want to entertain the idea. and yet, drift had signed himself up for a foster program (specifically catered to cybertronian conjuxes as part of an assimilation project.) he tells ratchet it's only temporary: a couple of months until she finds a forever home with someone else.

'they're not pets.' 'i know they're not.'

ratchet continues to firmly disagree. until he realizes he had no say in the matter, returning home one day to find her on drift's lap: ridiculously small in his arms even with the mass displacement. around drift were pamphlets, magazines, and datapads scattered open, detailing a step-by-step guide for 'first-time fathers'. the boxes of human groceries and soft, padded furniture scattered around the shared space showed ratchet that primus—drift was serious. and so the medic only sighed and joined cross-pedes on the floor, the corner of his mouth quirking up against his will when she squealed in delight. 

'i don't want to hurt her.' 'you won't. we won't.'

she's four and a half, wide-eyed and curious, just learning to speak her language. drift finds himself occupied: spending the mornings dropping her off and picking her up at daycare, while ratchet goes back and forth between overseeing relations in the local autobot facility and teaching at the local all-women's university — cybertronian medicine, to his surprise, was a popular choice of study. she makes a mess on the dinner table and refuses to eat her vegetables, arms crossed and pouting as she turns sharply away from her fathers. the once reluctant medic had to intervene, cleverly tricking the girl into a bargain: an extra hour of television time in exchange for three spoons. ratchet has to tell drift to stop smiling at him the entire night.

all of a sudden, she's ten and sitting on uncle rodimus's shoulders, smearing cupcake icing on the side of his cheek as he misspells her name with the frosting. the promise of 'a couple of months' was swept under the rug as ratchet hung a string of decorations, eavesdropping on the conversation drift was having with the mothers of the soon-to-arrive guests on the phone. the autobot facility wasn't the most ideal place to have a princess-themed birthday party, but the girls had a fun time decorating first aid and velocity with stickers — they were also fawning at fortress maximus's guns for legs, not that their mothers needed to know — and by the late afternoon, their daughter was already asleep against ratchet's shoulders. arms looped around his neck as she mumbled a chorus of sleepy thank yous. ( in that moment, whirl decided to topple glitter all over the table. and ratchet had to scrub for days to get every, single, glimmer out of his systems.)

then she's twelve, and that's when the chaos begins. the mood swings, the crying, the attitude — ratchet hated catching himself playing 'bad cop' while drift gets to be 'good cop': always the one putting his foot down while she runs to her other dad complaining. and suddenly, it all made sense when she and drift called him in the middle of his lecture, screaming over the phone about how she was bleeding. and her stomach hurts. and it's everywhere. his students stifled a laugh, smiling sweetly at the exchange. ratchet thanks years of experience with humans for teaching him to keep his composure. i'll stop by on my lunch break with pads. ratchet wasn't surprised to find that drift was the one in near hysteria, while she only seemed mildly disturbed — if not embarrassed. 

puberty is a monster, all teeth and fangs, stubborn and terrifying, unlike anything he has ever seen — that was saying something considering that he knows megatron — housing itself in the body of his fourteen-year-old. he feels at a loss, and every time he's in a room with her, they will always find a way to dissolve into an argument. drift is sulking at how she never wants to be hugged any more. and how she always tells him to pick her up a few blocks away and never by the school entrance. he's worried. they both were. humans are relatively different than cybertronians. human children, even more so. in a society where they spent millions of years without sparklings, without children — there was a chasm spanning between two battle-worn mechs and her, and it was hard to get anything across when the words seemed to dissolve midway. lost in translation, swallowed by the echo. it seems like the more he pushes, the more she pushes back. 

so when she had her bedroom door ajar, which was unusual considering she would always have it shut or locked, ratchet tentatively peeks in — nearly withering at the sight of her lying on the bedroom floor, staring blankly at the ceiling. the vinyl player he had bought her for her eleventh birthday, slowly spins a familiar tune. he joins her the way he did when drift first brought her home, sprawled across the floor, hands and servos nearly touching. it's almost funny how simple the answer was: pull not push. drift was the one who found them embracing, quiet with only the music humming in the background. it took ratchet sixteen years to really understand her.

then there's the whiplash of teaching her algebra by the kitchen table, to attending her university graduation — bouquets from nearly everyone: swerve & velocity, cyclonus & tailgate, chromedome & rewind, rodimus, minimus & megatron, another one from 'favorite uncle rodimus' cradled between her arms. the photographer had to jog backward and up a few flights of stairs to fully capture the moment and fit both dads in the frame. then it became a mantlepiece by the fireplace. coincidentally, the night after was her twentieth birthday. university finished. at such a young age — it helps when she's got geniuses for fathers and uncles. in the morning, ratchet listens to her talk with her mouth full: leftover birthday cake atop the table as she laughs with drift at the memory of swerve pouring her first drink, only to debunk that this was, in fact, not her first shot.

( may write a part 2 !)

[runnning-outof-time]

Birmingham | Tommy Shelby x Reader (Part 17)

Previous Part

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Polly deals with some business back in Birmingham while (Y/N) sorts out things with her mother in Sheffield. Something happens before Tommy and (Y/N) are able to come home.

Warnings: mentions of smoking, mentions of threats to kill someone

Word Count: 3915

A/N: here comes the fallout of the previous chapter. I hope everything makes sense once you’ve read it. Also I’ve included the ‘sooner’ results of that one poll I posted…I hope it was worth the wait. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged - there are 3 parts left!

Grace was busy wiping down the tabletops inside the empty Garrison tavern. She hated that she could only really clean once the place was empty, and that she now had to carry the entire burden as (Y/N) was off in Sheffield. She decided that she'd actually get to cleaning when her preliminary search of the offices for any more information came up empty. She didn't expect the sound of the side door opening to ring out in the otherwise quiet room.

"We're closed," she called to whoever it was that entered the establishment, not caring enough to look up from what she was doing.

"Oh I know," the voice that responded made her eyes snap up in seconds. Polly Gray was standing in the doorway, eyes already locked on her target.

"Polly," the name left Grace's lips like a gasp, "wha...what are you doing here?"

"I think you know what I'm doing here," Polly's answer was curt.

Grace knew exactly what she meant without having to be told though. It felt like her stomach dropped at the words, and immediately she began to scramble for what she'd say next while hoping that she still looked composed.

Polly spoke first though. "I was going to wait and see if Tommy figured this out or if he was told about it," she began, speaking slowly to let the other woman know that she was in charge of this conversation.

"It seems that he hasn't," Grace took Polly's pause as a time to interject a statement, tipping her chin slightly upwards (in hopes) to show that the statement rolled off of her back.

"Oh I know that," Polly was quick with the counter, "and I was going to let it go until he did figure things out..." she paused, looking the blonde woman up and down before her eyes narrowed slightly, "but then you brought (Y/N) into this when she never should have been. You've made this my problem, and I intend on dealing with it now," she made sure to enunciate her words so that they were spoken clearly.

"What do you know?" Grace decided to ask another question, wanting to see how many cards could be laid out on the table before she played her hand.

"I know that you are not only a barmaid...that you are working for Inspector Campbell; in order to find the stolen guns," Polly began, "I know that you're the one who gave Freddie up. You had a hand in him being taken away from his family just as it was started," she paused, staring the blonde woman down for a few seconds before continuing, "and I know that when you went to tell Inspector Campbell about those guns, you decided to bring (Y/N) into the situation; telling him that she was the one who was hiding them here in Small Heath."

Grace's jaw would have dropped had she not stopped it as Polly offered the last bit of knowledge that she possessed. She wondered how that detail got out...she'd spoken to Campbell in confidence so that it wouldn't.

"Campbell has a tendency to share his plans loudly," Polly cut into her thoughts, divulging exactly what she wanted to hear. "And I think I know why you did it..." she trailed off then, her eyebrows raising as she waited to see if Grace would say anything. She continued when she was met with silence, "I think that you met Tommy and you fell for him. I think that you struggled between the obligation you came here to carry out, and the man you met. Tommy was different from the type of man you were expecting to bring down, and that intrigued you. But then came (Y/N)...she was in the way of what you wanted, and so you made up the lie to try and get her to take the hit for the guns."

"Why are you saying all of this?" Grace asked, her brows furrowed, a panicked feeling starting to bubble up inside of her. She tried hard to keep her composed front up though.

"Because you should know that, in this city, we Shelbys have power. And with that power comes the ability to receive knowledge...and to make knowledge change, or even disappear," Polly pressed her lips together in an attempt to conceal the grin that was threatening to grow on her face as she got ready to reveal an update in Grace's attempted plan. "I've spoken with Sargent Moss, who has investigated (Y/N)'s involvement with the guns. He’s cleared her from any involvement with them. Your plan is no longer being carried out in the way you hoped it would," she allowed the grin to grow once she finished her statement, taking satisfaction in seeing all of the confidence drain out of the younger woman's features.

Polly pursed her lips before her grin could take over her entire expression, feeling even more confident after seeing Grace's reaction to it.

The younger woman was frozen. She didn't quite know what to do, or what to say in response to the information she'd just been given. How was she to play her hand if it had just been completely taken from her?

"I suggest you pack your things and leave Birmingham before (Y/N) comes home. She doesn't know of this little lie you've told at the moment, but she will when she returns, and...well I'm surprised she let you live after the lies you've told her before," Polly broke the tense silence. Grace stayed frozen. "Have I made myself clear in that?" she asked, being met with silence.

"You can't protect him forever, you know that," Grace decided to speak again, hoping she still sounded intimidating, "and (Y/N)...she'll cause bad."

"You must not have realized how we Shelbys are then. We'll protect our own until we can't. And she may...but you've already caused it," Polly didn't even budge on Grace's weak attempts of a comeback. "You should leave. If I see you again, I might just kill you myself," she advised then, nodding her head once to show her determination.

——

(Y/N) was out of breath as she approached the door of her childhood home. "Mum?!" she called as she entered it and was met with an empty room. "Mum?! It's me, everything's alright!" she called again, making her way deeper into the home. Where are you? she thought to herself, walking into the kitchen to find it also empty. The scraping of something on the floor above her made her realize that she may be upstairs. She rushed to the steps and ascended them as fast as she could. "Mum? It's me, mum!" she called out as she approached the door to her parent's room, "I'm coming into the room," she announced as she grabbed the doorknob.

She opened the door slowly, finding the room empty. She knew that her mother was in here though, because this room was right above where the scraping came from. "I'm here alone, mum...I'm safe," she called out as she looked around the room, slowly taking a step inside.

"Over here," she heard a voice call softly, making her rush to the hidden side of the bed to find her mother cowering next to the nightstand - which was what must've scraped the floor.

"It's me," (Y/N) repeated herself as she extended her hand to her mother, "I'm safe."

"You've got blood on you," her mother gasped, making (Y/N) look down and finally realize that some of Garrett's blood had splattered onto her clothing.

"I'm safe, I promise. It's done," she assured her mother. The older woman knew exactly what she was talking about even though she spoke in veiled statements. "Please, stand up with me now," she said then, offering her hand once more in hopes that her mother would take it.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she did. Both of the women stood up and embraced each other in a tight hug. Feeling her mother's comforting arms wrap around her made (Y/N)'s walls fall down again. She couldn't stop the tears as they welled up in her eyes and spilled over.

"We're safe now, mum. He can't hurt us anymore," (Y/N) whispered into her mother's ear as she held onto her for as long as she could. They held the embrace for a few moments longer before stepping away to look at each other. "I'm sorry for coming in unexpectedly. You were the first person I thought of after it was finished," she then apologized for her abrupt entry.

"It's ok, darling," her mother forgave her, "dad's out of town on business. I told him that this would be a good time to take the trip like you and I spoke about...he's not expected to be back for another few days," she explained her husband's whereabouts. (Y/N) nodded, feeling relieved that that part of the plan they'd spoken about in their correspondence had been followed through with.

"No one was in the bar when it happened. He asked everyone to leave when he noticed I was there...said that he wanted to have a conversation with me. Everyone was cleared from the area before the shot rang out," (Y/N) then explained what had gone down on her side of the events.

"Did you do it?" her mother asked. It flashed quickly, but (Y/N) thought she saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes as she asked the question.

"I didn't," (Y/N) shook her head, glancing at the wall behind her mother, "Tommy was there too. He was able to take the shot when I couldn't," she then explained.

"That's fine...so long as it was finished with," her mother assured her, nodding slightly as she spoke, keeping her eyes locked with (Y/N)'s.

(Y/N) nodded along with her as she felt a lump start to build up in her throat. "I...I'm so sorry, mum," she choked out, another wave of emotion flowing over her as the events caught up once more.

"You don't need to be sorry, love," her mother was quick to console her, "you knew what he was going to do...this was what had to be done. You've saved both your life and mine in doing so," she explained in a calming voice.

"But...but Clay's going to..."

"He's not going to find out. He was at his office while it happened, and you said it yourself that nobody saw it. Anyone could have done it," (Y/N)'s jumbled response was cut off again by her mother's justifications. "It hurts because it's family, but this is what happens inside families like ours. He was going to harm us...we couldn't let that happen," the older woman continued, speaking with a steady voice, "my father wouldn't have let it happen. It's time that us women work to take some power back within our own family."

(Y/N) nodded as she listened to what her mother had to say. "We're going to be ok, right?" she asked once she'd been able to calm down.

"We are. We're going to be more than ok, love," her mother agreed with her. "He wasn't going to bring anything good into this family. I believe he's finally found his peace now...whatever that peace may be," she then said.

It hurt her to think of her son this way, but it was what was necessary. Garrett was ready to fly off of the handle. He was in the midst of planning to find (Y/N) and then be able to rid the family of the 'weaker links', which meant that he was going after his mother too. In his mind, all the women did was take up space...they weren't good for anything because they didn't fight or throw their hat into the ring to help out the family in, what he deemed to be, a substantial way while the war was going on. The only reason why he wasn't able to push forward on this crusade, if you will, was because Clay didn't think that it was ideal to carry the plan out. He was more invested in trying to make deals and expand their control over the city. Garrett usually listened to Clay but, over these last few weeks, it seemed as though he was gearing up to carry out his plans without approval. This is what made Ann Weller scared, and it's ultimately why she decided to write (Y/N) a letter explaining what was happening so that they could create a plan of their own.

She was thankful that all of the different parts worked out the way they did. She didn't want to think of the consequences that would have arisen had one gone wrong.

"You said that Tommy came with you, (Y/N)?" Anne asked after both of the ladies were completely calm again.

"Yes," (Y/N) nodded her head, "he did." Realization struck her then as she remembered running out of the pub and leaving Tommy in the dust as she rushed to get to her mother. "I left him at the pub," she said then, stepping away from her mother to exit the room and rush down the steps. She was fully prepared to sprint back to the pub where she left him, but she quickly realized that she wouldn't need to. "Tommy," she gasped, surprised to see him standing in the front room of the home.

"I was only a few steps behind you," he explained to her, immediately seeing her surprised expression. (Y/N) didn't know what to say, so she just nodded, her worry dissipating once more.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Shelby," Ann’s voice came from behind her daughter, making her turn around.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Weller. And please, call me Tommy," he smiled at her, stepping forward to offer his hand in a formal greeting.

"You call me Ann then," she told him while shaking his hand, making him chuckle as he nodded in agreement. "Thank you for looking after my daughter, Tommy," she said, an appreciative smile on her face.

"You're welcome," Tommy accepted her gratitude, looking over at (Y/N) to see that she was already smiling at him. He held her gaze until she broke away, looking bashfully at the ground. "I'm sorry about what had to happen," he addressed what had gone down earlier, looking at Ann again.

"Don't be," Ann brushed his apology off, "I've already told (Y/N)...he was my son, but he was also an angry and violent man. I hope that he's found peace now," she then reiterated what she'd said to (Y/N) moments ago. Tommy nodded along with her, making note of how she felt about the situation.

"It's getting late," (Y/N) spoke up again after a few moments had passed, "we should head back to Birmingham, Tommy."

"If you're ready," Tommy agreed with her while still letting her lead the situation.

"I am," (Y/N) nodded her head before she looked at her mother. "I love you, mum," she said, a smile on her face as she stepped forward to hug the older woman.

"I love you, sweetheart," Ann repeated the sentiment, hugging her daughter tightly, "things will be better from now on," she assured her, stepping back to smile at her as she held onto her shoulders.

"They will," (Y/N) agreed with her mother, even though she didn't feel what she was saying completely in her heart. "Shall we go?" she asked Tommy as she turned to face him. Tommy only nodded in response, taking a step to the door then. "Bye, mum. I'll write to you when I'm home safe," (Y/N) said to her mother, sending her one last smile before she followed Tommy to the door.

"Bye, (Y/N)," Ann sent a smile back, watching as the two exited the home and went on their way back to the car they'd arrived in.

The walk back was filled with silence. Tommy finally had a chance to smoke; he'd been needing a cigarette after what went down at the pub, but he was more worried about (Y/N) than his desires. Having her safe by his side finally allowed him to give in.

Tommy opened the driver's side door with no hesitation, getting himself ready to enter the car when he noticed that (Y/N) was practically frozen on the passenger's side. "(Y/N)?" he called to her, his brows furrowed as he looked through the car's windows to see her absentmindedly staring at the door. She didn't answer him, didn't even look up, so he dropped his hand from the door and walked around to meet her on the other side. "Everything ok, love?" he asked once he was in front of her.

"Huh?" she asked, snapping out of her thoughts, sounding surprised.

"You weren't getting into the car," he pointed out, "are you alright?"

"I, uh..." she trailed off, breaking eye contact as she hoped to keep herself together, "this can't keep happening with us, Tommy. This can’t become our ‘thing’," she choked out, her attempts failing as she recalled the past two times where they found themselves in a situation similar to what had happened at the pub earlier.

Tommy frowned as he heard what she had to say. "It won't happen again," he told her, a definitive tone in his voice.

(Y/N) wanted to take that statement at face value and hold onto it with all of her might, but she just couldn't. Instead she felt her heart break at the possibility that there very well could be another time. "That's not something you can promise," she pointed out, her voice broken. She dropped her gaze to the pavement as tears started to prick her eyes, not wanting Tommy to see her cry. She couldn't get it past him though, because she felt his arms engulf seconds later. His embrace was tight, one that she immediately sunk into.

"These sort of things'll be done now, eh?" he tried to reason with her, resting his chin on the top of her head as she clung to him tightly. "Look at me, (Y/N)," he whispered then, making her step back from him. He took his chance and took her face into his hands, holding her so that she couldn't break eye contact. "I might not be able to promise that, but I can promise that I will keep you safe, no matter what happens, ok?" he spoke in all seriousness, his eyes widening to show how much he cared. "I will keep you safe," he reiterated his point, his eyes searching hers as he spoke.

(Y/N) nodded as best she could with her head in his hands. "Ok," she breathed, feeling truly safe as he was holding her.

"Ok," he repeated her single word statement in a similar tone, nodding slightly as well.

Silence fell between them then, and (Y/N) realized in that period just how close they'd gotten. She could feel the warmth of Tommy's breath as it fanned across her face. The blueness of his eyes trapped her, shining despite the circumstances and giving her a glimmer of hope that maybe things would be better from there on out. She stayed in his grasp, watching as his eyes flitted to her lips for a moment before locking with hers again. A strange sensation shot through her as she watched him do that, and she couldn't help but do some searching of her own, letting her eyes travel over his features as she admired them up close.

Tommy dropped his eyes to her lips one more time before he made up his mind and decided to stop dancing around what he was wanting to do, what he’d been wanting to do. He leaned in slowly, giving her a chance to realize what he was doing; waiting for her to react in any sort of way. The second he saw her eyelids flutter shut, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to hers.

All of the bells and whistles were going off inside (Y/N)'s mind the second she felt his lips touch hers. She returned the kiss right away, her hands grabbing onto the sides of his suit jacket as she felt like she was about to be swept off of her feet.

The first kiss was short, a sort of a taste or teaser...a way to test the waters. Tommy was the one to pull away, but he didn't move far, only retreating a few centimeters so that they could both grab a breath before he leaned back in and kissed her again; his intentions more firm this time.

If the first kiss would have swept her off of her feet, this kiss would have blown (Y/N) away. She was not in any way prepared for something like this to happen, but now that it was happening, she didn't want it to end. Everything felt right in this moment. Her worries were pushed to the back of her mind as he moved to the forefront.

Their kiss lasted for a few moments before Tommy pulled away again, this time for good as he lifted his head slightly and pressed his lips to her forehead. (Y/N) relished in the feeling as tingles continued to shoot through her body. Nothing was said as he let go of her face and wrapped his arms around her once more, holding her flush against him.

"Are you ok?" he finally broke the silence, pulling her away to let her stand at arm's length as he looked her over.

"More than," she couldn't stop herself fast enough, the half-dazed answer escaping her lips before she had the chance to think it over.

Her response made him chuckle, a slight grin forming on his face as he relished in seeing her sheepish smile form. He hoped he didn't look too animated on the outside, and that she couldn't feel his heart where it was thudding in his chest. "Good," he said to her, feeling like a weight lifted off of his shoulders as she smiled at him.

She pulled him back into an embrace without warning, resting her head flat against his chest. She took comfort in the fact that his heart was beating rapidly, happy that he was reacting the same way she was. He held her tight to him, letting her rest in his arms with no questions asked. Silence surrounded them again until she asked a question of her own: "can we go home now?"

Her voice was soft, but Tommy heard her. "We can," he answered without hesitation, his heart rate picking up again at her word choice.

(Y/N) didn't misspeak. Even though she grew up in Sheffield, Birmingham had grown to feel more like home than that place ever had. Something told her that the man whose arms she was standing in had a lot to do with why she felt that way.

And now she just wanted to go home.

Next Part

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SERIES MASTERLIST

[ameliathecatto]

First meetings preview

Don't come after me for any OOC behavior, I have a rather limited knowledge of all the of characters since I'm a rather casual fan. [Divider Credit: @cafekitsune]

Sometimes I wonder how my life has come this way.

Children are not my forte, though taking care of anyone is already a massive pain for me. And out of somewhere in my heart, I decided to take care of more than one child? 

Seriously, what have I gotten myself into?

[First meetings preview] 

The sound of a gunshot rang in her ears.

Amelia was no stranger to death, being called the Grim Reaper by some, death was as much her friend as that pit of endless despair she found herself in. 

So, she watched; parents of a child that seemed no older than ten fell to the ground, their fates sealed as soon as they entered this wretched city. The crowd looked on in shock, some only gasped, some shouted while others simply looked on. Gotham City was the strangest kind of hell Amelia ever been to, that an assassination on two people from a moving circus only garnered mild reactions.

The Flying Graysons, the family of acrobats that were performing their usual trapeze act, now became another name in the soiled land.

Her eyes wandered over to where the murderer was, putting his gun away in his jacket as he prepared to run away. Perhaps she should have intervened, knowing very well that she could just smash the man’s head into pieces with a strike of her fist. Yet, there was a feeling in her gut that she should not do that, that there was more to all of this than just multiple wrong moves made by the circus as well as the family. Besides, she was sure that Batman, the caped crusader who acted like a Guardian of the Night, would find the murderer eventually.

She chose to get out of her seat, jumping right past the two rows of viewers, nearly hitting a few poor persons in the head. She landed on the ground with grace, fixing her hair with one hand as she walked into the light, shone down on the bleeding corpses and the crying child. She looked at the child with her usual nonchalant indifference, slowly approaching him while taking a look at the corpses. 

One clean shot to the head for each.

It was easy to say that the killer was incredibly trained and had been doing this for years. It was also easy to say that whoever that hired the man, they really, really wanted the Graysons to be dead. Which made her wonder who was so determined to ensure that the couple died that they chose to hire an experienced killer to do the job.

A soft sob entered her ears.

She looked over to the boy, too stunned to clutch onto their corpses yet his arm remained outstretched. His body trembled, fear, pain, despair filled in those blue eyes. He did not look at her, he had not yet noticed her presence. Even with the crowd being dispersed and asked to get out, his eyes remained firmly on the bleeding corpses, the blood slowly starting to reach him. 

Before the other circus members that were responsible for helping the crowd get out of the tent could reach her, she took off her black jacket and gently placed it around the boy. The sudden feeling of weight spooked him, causing him to look directly into her eyes. Yet, there was not much he could see, from her eyes or even her facial expressions as they remained neutral even as she kneeled down beside him. 

“You will be alright.” It was the first words she spoke to him. Even with her cold and monotone voice, it sounded soft to his ears.

The jacket acted like a blanket due to their height and slight build difference, giving him some warmth even under the bright lights and the blood. He continued to stare at her, tears falling down like streams of water. Amelia flashed him a soft, almost warm smile that did not quite reach her eyes even if she tried.

“You will be alright, I swear.”

Those words were an anchor, tying both of them down to the current moment. 

The jacket was left with the young boy after Amelia was forced out of the tent as the GCPD (Gotham City Police Department) arrived, she spared a glance at the poor boy before leaving the area altogether. 

… 

The sound of metal clinking. 

It was not a bad sound per say, not the worst type her ears had caught. At least it was not swords or someone trying to break in. Her eyes wandered over to the strange car parked beside the alley, it clearly did not belong in the filth of Crime Alley, stench of trash stronger than anything else. The car seemed more like a tank, incredibly well-built, seeming like it could live through a ten-floor building with minor damages.

It was the Batmobile, not the first time she had seen one, mostly due to Grayson but oh well.

She noticed a figure immediately, kneeling on the back right as they held something in their hand. Her footsteps were quiet, not making a single sound as she walked on the balls of her feet, slowly approaching the figure. 

She only then realized that it was a male teenager stealing the tire of the Batmobile. ‘Brave and stupid’ 

She approached the young man just as he took off the tire, her head tilted slightly as she stared at him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood upright, making his head snap towards the direction where she was at. He jumped, letting go of the tire but not the lug wrench, holding it tightly while his eyes turned from fear and shock to determination. The young man wanted to fight her, she knew that as much.

“Now then, I believe we could just talk, yeah?” She offered with an arm extended towards him.

“About what exactly?” 

“As to why you’re stealing a tire, of course.”

Her words had struck a chord with him as he decided to start running for it right after she said that, still clutching onto the lug wrench like his life depended on it. 

She just shook her head. As much as she could very easily just let him go, not that it would matter if she caught him, though there was something in her head that seemed to spin differently. A low chuckle rumbled through her chest as she watched him run, her eyes narrowed before darting around the area. 

The teenager felt goosebumps surging all over his body along with his heartbeat, each thump feeling like a closer encounter with her. This was something he was not used to, something he would never have imagined, that he would be so terrified about a single person.

But his instincts honed from the streets told his gut that he should run.

“Now, you don’t look too good scurrying like a rat.”

Her breath hit his neck, making his eyes peek over to where she was. His feet continued to move, yet he could not feel the ground. His eyes looked down, realizing that he was picked off of the ground. Her hand holding him by the neck, just firm enough to hold him though the pressure was undeniably suffocating. 

“Let. Me. Go.” The young man glared at her, his fingers gripping around the lug wrench.

A faint smile tugged on the corner of her lips, holding him closer to her while she murmured, “Come on now, let’s talk.”

…

Amelia’s senses had always been high.

She could hear every footstep within the area, every broken light flickering, every gasped and heavy breathing. Her eyes remained fixed on the bleeding man, every bone in his arms twisted, turned into mush. Yet she knew the man would be fine either way, his regenerative abilities were enough to ensure that he would live this encounter.

But there was something else she was more curious about. The pair of eyes staring at her from behind the tall grass.

“Tell your boss that he should try harder to kill me next time.” She threw the sword right back at the man.

The sword landed on the ground, the shiny blade stained with blood. 

She only spared him one more glance before leaving, walking towards the closest door. Luckily for her, there was no one else in the area (aside from those pair of eyes) and she could leave safely; Unluckily for her, there was a really high chance that she might end up in Gotham News the next morning for her brutal fight.

‘I’m going to worry about that later.’

She stretched her arms, letting out a soft yawn as she walked towards the exit of the arcade. The moment she pushed the door and stepped out, the familiar bright white lights shone down on her. She let out a sigh, her body visibly slumping as she started to walk down the bright, endless hallway.

And the door swung once more.

She kept moving however, running her hand through her hair while looking at the ground. She could feel it as if the person was walking beside her, but they were not. Their footsteps were slow, cautious yet it felt a little clumsy, likely being fascinated by their surroundings.

She stopped abruptly, turning around to see who it was.

It was a young teen, younger than Jason when she first found him. He took a step back after noticing that she was staring at him. She cleared her throat, waiting for him to say anything. She could tell with a glance that the child she was dealing with was someone that had intelligence unlike the peers of their age.

“I’m…” His tongue was tied up anyways, unsure of how to get his point across.

“Well…” She paused, crossing her arms. “You better start talking or… I will just assume that you’re just a lost child and not a stalker.”

[chronosh0t]

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon-divergence ; Lee's pov ; sfw ; slightly angst. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 〔 NO BETA 〕

��𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: what if Lee got stuck in a loop? it's based on this tweet I posted weeks ago.

〔 if you like what I write or my edits, consider tip me on ko-fi. you'd help me a lot by donating me. thank you lots 〕

────────────── ❁ ──────────────

It has been so long, too long to count. Nonstop fighting for an end that is far from near, for a thin lay of hope that may or may not come out of the cruelty of reality. The light it's too dim, the air is too heavy, toxic and corrupted, no matter how deep every breath is, it never makes him feel better, less relaxed. Less lonely.

His hands are tired, his legs are having a hard time trying to keep up and his M.I.N.D is completely numb over time. Losing sense, and every single moment that peace seems to greet him, it flies past him as fast as one of his bullets. Breaking him in the silence of rejection, in the middle of the tower where escaping is not an option. For how long will this keep going? He does not know. And, to be fair, he doesn't want to know either. The crushing weight of having a clock ticking, counting what's left and what's yet to come, is not pleasant.

So he opted to ignore it. He made the decision, that day, to do the job only he was able to do. Because that was his sole purpose, at least for now, as much as he wished to change this twisted fate, it wouldn't be fair for those outside. If he was the only one capable, then so be it. Sacrifices must always be done. Be it time, or his own life. Just for the illusion that outside everyone is safe. He will stand over and over, shoot his gun, kill whoever or whatever gets in his way, for a slim chance.

There are short moments when everything is quiet, when not a single cry from despair could be heard, except for his erratic breathing, his feet dragging him to the stairs to finally take a seat after hours of battles and the loud noise of his weapon against the floor. He closes his eyes for a few seconds before taking a small device to call them. He just wants to have a few minutes to talk. Hoping. Wishing.

The call makes it through, and two faces greet him, smiling happily. The girl in red breaks the silence first.

ㅤㅤㅤ“It's been a while, Lee.” she stops, as if pondering if it's plausible to ask about his condition when it's obvious. “How are things on your side?”

ㅤㅤㅤ“Nothing new. The fights are endlessly annoying but, it's fine. I'm fine.” His voice cracks at the end, how terrible he has been at lying lately, or maybe he is too tired to pretend. Lee knows his teammates are aware of his state.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Lee…” the soft voice from Liv seemed to echo inside the tower, he nods and smile, “I know it's useless to say but, do please take care of yourself. I also know you're capable but.. We are worried about you. Especially Commandant.”She finished, her pink eyes showing great concern.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Commandant is a bit busy now. We would've called him but I know you have your ways.” Lucia explained, a chuckle escaped from her mouth.

Lee laughs at that. Indeed, he has his ways to contact his Commandant. “Thank you, I really mean it.” He finally spoke, the bitterness can be tasted, smelled and felt. Too heavy. “My time is running out. When I get another break, I will try to contact you guys again. Please take care.” He smiles again, and ends the call.

There's never a “goodbye”. Because he doesn't want to think about an end. As much as he is tired and his frame is at its limit on par with his M.I.N.D slowly losing complete focus from time to time, more often than not, Lee would reject the idea of a last call with his friends. That won't happen. He refuses to let that be part of his reality.

More often than not, he finds himself considering giving up and leaving, letting the wheel of destiny decide his punishment but there's something, someone, that keeps him from doing so. Or more like a “possible future”. Where there's no one, when the person he has come to cherish a little bit too much is no longer by his side, where his teammates are no longer walking with him but just a name in a marble stone. That was scary enough for him. The weight it's too much again.

His break is about to end. Taking a deep breath, he takes his device and taps a message and presses the send button, with the same address. For the same person. With the same words. He can feel an insufferable pain packing up inside his chest, filling the space between his ribs, crushing his artificial heart. He is shaking. His eyes are burning and tears are building up, but it's not the time.

It has never been. It probably never will.

He stands up, weapon in his hands. Time is running and it will never stop, no matter how many times he goes back, no matter how much he wishes and hopes, because time has never cared for that. So, for now, he just needs to keep going, and maybe one day, time will stop for him and he will be able to go back home. Go back to his friends. To his Commandant and be part of Gray Raven again.

…………

The digital screen beeps at the new message. He knows who sent it, and it's the reason he is also a bit reluctant to open it. He is always afraid it will be the last. His fingers trace the screen before lightly pressing over the email icon. A small text shows up, saying:

ㅤㅤㅤ“It's been a while. I know Liv and Lucia are there to take care of you, but I've got to know you enough to understand you're a magnet for troubles. So, don't do anything stupid.

ㅤㅤㅤ I don't have much time, there's nothing new. I am doing as fine as I can, you don't need to worry (I know you will, but don't let my situation distract you from your job, Commandant).

ㅤㅤㅤ ………… I miss you. I miss you a lot. It even hurts a bit sometimes. But I'm always hoping. Hoping that one day I will be by your side again, seeing you smile, holding your hand. I miss your warmth. The idea of going back to you, to Gray Raven keeps me going.

ㅤㅤㅤ I have to go. See you next time.”

And without knowing, despite the distance between them, tears were shed at the same time. Because time was the only thing connecting them.

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

What goes on during movie night ?

Ooh okay so movie night:

It's just absurdly hard to decide what to watch. Movies are brutal for the family. No one likes the same things, but they somehow always have fun? They have to institute a family decision making process, and this is how it goes:

It's in order of age. Jake (1), Neytiri (2), Spider (3), Neteyam (4), Kiri (5), Lo'ak (6), and Tuk (7). (Mo'at is 8 when she is around, and when she is she somehow always wins).

Whenever a decision needs to be made, Jake has Neteyam have Siri (Jake does not understand how to use Siri) pick a number between 1 and 7 and whoever's number it lands on makes the decision. This ruling is absolutely final, and the only rules are that parents can overrule for safety and that the same number can't be picked back to back.

Neytiri wins a suspicious amount of time. It's simply Eywa's will. When Neytiri wins they watch a lot of documentaries and classic rom coms. Jake always complains the loudest to annoy her, but then him and Neyetam are on the ground on the floor up close fascinated by the horror of US prison system or by the absurdity of 27 Dresses.

Jake, in contrast, almost never wins. When he does it's always the worst comedy ever but like, the most fun night. It's Grown Ups 2 or The Naked Gun, and Neytiri is trying so hard not to laugh in the corner while covering Tuk's ears and glaring at Lo'ak when he laughs at the jokes.

Lo'ak only wants to watch terrible action movies. This is everyone's favorite night lowkey. No one would ever admit it, but the movies are such a brain break, and they love how much they can annoy Lo'ak during them. They're all munching on popcorn and lounging on the couch absolutely destroying the logistics of The Fast and The Furious.

Neteyam, through a mouthful of popcorn: How would one car cushion the fall of another car?

Spider, throwing m&ms into Kiri's mouth: Oh, it wouldn't, that's a double car pancake.

Lo'ak: IT'S JUST A MOVIE, MY GOD.

Jake, intercepting an m&m: As long as you don't think you can drive off of a helicopter, son.

Kiri: well, you could, right, you just wouldn't live.

Lo'ak: PLEASE.

Tuk wins and they watch a classic Disney/Pixar film. No one pretends to hate these nights. Everyone loves Encanto and Moana. Jake is a huge Olaf fan. Spider and Lo'ak's remote-microphone renditions of every song in Camp Rock are legendary. Everyone has joined in at some point, by the end of the movie the family are all exhausted and sweaty and the amount of blackmail on Jake's phone is wild.

Neteyam's picks are always extremely snobby Oscar level A24 films. Tuk always falls asleep. Lo'ak and Jake play games on their phones and miss things and then ask stupid questions and it drives Neteyam insane. He's never angrier than when Jake asks the dumbest question ever that was answered earlier during the peak moment of Three Billboards.

Kiri's picks are super pretty nature documentaries. These nights are instant nap time for Jake, Lo'ak, and Tuk, piled on top of each other on the couch. Spider, Kiri, Neytiri and Neteyam share a carton of ice cream right in front of the tv and marvel at the pretty animals. One time when they are all older teenagers, Lo'ak and Spider decide to take edibles before this endeavor and Jake catches them so they give him one as a bribe and the three of them cry when a lion kills a zebra. It is very obvious but also very funny to everyone else. Also Jake ratted them out to Neytiri right away but said "Babe, they included me! ☺️" so Neytiri let it happen.

Spider's picks are crazy. He's all over the place. For a long time post his adoption, when they were little, he picks whatever movie the person he's felt he most recently pissed off he thinks would like best. Lo'ak discovers this quickly and begins to start a fight with him right before movie night lol. Neytiri and Jake were very suspicious when Spider was like "no I actually want to watch Jackass and it's not because you grounded me yesterday, Jake." Eventually he does pick his own stuff (he likes Homeward Bound and Cheaper by the Dozen) but sometimes he does still pick what his siblings want.

[thebrawlerina]

Hiii- me again :P (i message so freqently because i just honestly adore your writing) I was wondering if you could do the headcanon thing for Rico- i don't think you did already becasue when i cheacked i didn't find anything but i might be wrong

:DDD You have no idea how happy I am getting all these asks. Keep them coming! (If you can. No pressure there.)

To celebrate this new blog, let's open with some

Rico HC's

When Starr Park opened with only a western theme, Rico played the role of a 'Bounty Hunter'. He was essentially the security of the park who would have some themed events with Colt and Shelly.

Once the Park decided to include other themes, an Arcade place was added to the mix. Rico found that he loved that places vibe more than the western style and eventually made his way into being part of that scene instead.

That wasn't the only reason for his drastic remodel. Rico loved interacting with kids, but found that his Bounty hunter persona and looks sometimes scared kids which made him sad. When he became a part of the Arcade theme, he requested to have a new body built to fit better and appear friendlier to kids.

Even though Rico sort of left his security job when he switched roles, he still keeps a vigilant eye out for wrong doers in his area.

Even though Rico has a pretty monotone and bland voice, he can actually be pretty emotional and dramatic. Though sometimes people think he's being sarcastic because of his voice, when if he means everything he's saying.

He met Piper after mourning the loss of his lover (the vending machine lol). Well, he actually knew of her beforehand but that was the first time they properly interacted outside of work related duties and brawls. Rico was soon smitten and asked her out on a date. To his surprise, she actually said yes.

Rico is absolutely the type to do grand gestures of love to Piper (or whoever his lover is in the case of other fics). That doesnt mean that he doesn't like the cute subtle things too. But he is a dramatic lover and he will get a boquet and chocolates every chance he gets.

Rico has a program that lets him easily calculate angles to bounce things in real time, and he can activate it outside of battles too. This leads him to doing all sorts of dumb and mundane trickshots, like bouncing some trash off the wall before it goes in the trash can or tossing a coin and making it spin before it goes in a jar.

This program was actually meant to be used so he could be a thrower like Barley. But he picked up a gun and found that way more fun than lobbing stuff. Also the higher-ups were worried about the similarities between him and Barley so they let it be.

Actually he likes doing trick shots a lot. He'd make a youtube account for it, but many others agree that him doing it would be cheating because of said program.

While nothing could top Arcade games in his mind, Rico is actually decent in more slow paced strategy games. Brock tends to just brute force his way through those games and 8-BIT cant be bothered to sit down and play it.

He and Colt used to be really good friends due to their initial roles. One could even say they were best friends. But over time, the two of them started drifting apart and Rico started hanging out with Brock more. They're still friends but definitely not as close as they were before.

Rico and Brock vibe really well with each other. Brock can easily tell what the robot is feeling with his subtle cues, and Rico is good at getting Brock to challenge himself and be better.

8-BIT and Rico like to talk shop about all things video-game related even when outside of work. Rico marvels at the fact that, because of 8-BITs short temper, he's actually the calmer one in this situation.

Rico is completely smitten by Piper. She is his queen, his goddess, and he's grateful everyday that she said yes to him. He'd like to put a ring on her but it waiting for the 'perfect opportunity'. But hes got big things planned.

Rico regards the Starr Park security trio as his successors of sorts and feels an odd parental feeling towards all of them, even if their AI's are made to have them be technically around the same age.

Rico sees Barley and Darryl as like friends who also see each other as family. Barley is the older one and Darryl is the younger one. This unfortunately means that he is the middle one, which Darryl sometimes likes to poke fun of.

[tickingispleasure]

Mary

Mary is a strong and young women. She was trained to be a soldier just like her Dad and now she's going on a mission deep in the woods. Mary is not scared. Having her gun and some fine grenades and a high level in martial arts training is everything she needs to protect herself.

Her way leads her deeper into the woods. Big and strong trees suck out the little rest of the sun. It's dark and silent in here. Some plants don't look normal but that's all good. Her goal is to find a group of other soldiers who got lost in here.

After walking deeper into the darkness Mary smells something strange. It's like a strong bitter smell but also have some nice and fruity taste in it. She tries to shake the thought of this smell of and go deeper and deeper.

Suddenly she feels a way of struggling in walking. Her body feels strange and more and more weak. Mary decides to take a short nap on a tree. Maybe her way was longer than she thought and she didn't realized how long she's been walking through this darkness. The smell also seems to make her a little bit sleepy thou.

It doesn't take long and she falls into a deep sleep. Seeing some nice colors in her dreams changing all the time and make her feel very comfortable. Her body starts to feel a bit more activated. Like it's getting hot a bit. Or maybe more than a bit. She has to admit that it feels very good. What a nice dream for her short nap. But maybe she should wake up soon to continue her mission. Just a little bit longer of dreaming in this blissful state...

The alarm of her phone wakes her up. She's struggling to open her eyes and let off a small sigh before she decides to get up again and continuing walking just to realize her body doesn't do what she wants. In fact she realizes that she had taken off her uniform sitting all naked in the dark and something is playing with her soft and all wet pussy. It looked like a liana that came from the tree and it rubs her pussy to get her more wet. Mary let out another sigh and tries to get up again but giving up very fast after shortly tense up the muscles in her leg. She can't help but feeling good from the nice smell and the liana which rubs her pussy so good.

Mary shakes her head to get off this feeling but it made everything just more intense. She lets out a moan but covering her mouth right after it. What is going on here? She asks herself.

Another feeling of a liana gets around her neck and she couldn't resist but stretching it like she wants to get touched more. The liana gets into her mouth which surprises her letting her make some noises of resisting until she gives up and start sucking it. It tastes like the smell. Like strange and bitter but also very sweet and calming. Something came out of it and forces her to swallow everything. After doing that Mary couldn't manage to order at least one thought. Her brain starts to get emptier and emptier leaving her dumb submissive and naked in the dark. She couldn't help herself she needs to suck more from these strange things. Needs to suck and rub more. Her body starts to feel very good the more she gives in. Maybe she'll get addicted to this. The lianas grew more and get around every sensitive part of her body which makes her moan louder and louder. She needs more of it. She needs to be penetraded by these things.

Her brain is all gone. No memory of her mission no idea who she was before getting into this nice state of brainwashing. The lianas starts to fuck her in every hole letting her moan so loud that everyone around could hear it. Every drop of their fluids make her more empty and needy for more. She wanted this. She loves it. Being a slave for whatever this was is her only goal. She needs to be an empty fuckdoll for whoever or whatever wants to fuck her.

[crossroadsghost]

fargo s5 details i have noticed on rewatch:

-munch's differences in body language/behavior/violence around men vs around women is so pronounced and tangible when you pay attention. even when he's supposed to be helping abduct dot, he hands the hammer off to donald instead of wielding it himself, and the only time in the rest of those scenes he ever touches her is when she's at the bottom of the stairs and he goes to pick her up. he kills the guard outside roy's house, but doesn't lay a finger on karen or the twins when he goes into their room. i can't actually think of any time he's violent towards women.

-munch's blood type is mentioned to be O negative, which is universal donor. fitting for a sin eater to have blood that can be exchanged to save anyone.

-sam spruell has such long eyelashes

-at the scene where ole munch is waiting at the gas station to kill gator's partner, the final lyrics of "this is halloween" to play are "i am the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red/i am the one hiding under your stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair." given the visual emphasis on ole's teeth and hands, i assume it's meant to be a comparison to him

-one of the street signs dot rearranges is named nylund circle. rose nylund from the golden girls is supposed to be from minnesota. whether it was intentional or not, it made me giggle.

-subtitles say ole munch's original name was bryn.

-the symbol on ole munch's chest during his ritual looks like the Peorð/ᛈ symbol from the elder futhark, a rune that has unknown meaning. the rest of the symbols shown are invented, so this could be a coincidence.

-"ring the door bell pretending to be trick or treaters and grab whoever answers" is literally how they catch santa in the nightmare before christmas movie. i'm still not sure what they were driving at with so many TNBC references in this season.

-there's gotta be a reason danish has one eye and lorraine's husband is named wink, but i don't know what that reason is.

-crack theory time: danish is wayne's real father. wink is so busy drinking and playing with models he would never notice. danish refers to wayne as slugger, and wayne refers to scotty as slugger, which implies something. it would also explain some of danish's emotional investment in the family and willingness to try to save dot with or without permission from lorraine--it's not only lorraine's feelings he cares about. and it's only after lorraine finds out that danish disappeared on the ranch that she decides to go full tilt against roy--she wasn't willing to go that far for dot, but she is for danish? maybe this isn't a crack theory at all actually.

-donald trump in the chat on roy's livestream lmao

-it feels like the dugout is meant to be a metaphor for . . . violence? trauma? manhood, patriarchy? okay i'm not exactly sure, but it's where munch performs the ritual, where witt dies, where gator has to pass through to get home and injures himself as he goes, it's where roy escapes to and says, "my destiny is at the other end of that tunnel." there's some significance to it.

-i don't adhere to the theory that the ending is a dream/delusion/afterlife/whatever, but if it is, i think it starts in the moment when the fbi rolls up on dot as she's about to kill roy, not in the backseat of the fbi vehicle. IF i supported this theory i would say they shot dot and killed her because she was holding the gun, and everything after is unreal. but i don't really support that theory to begin with, so eh.

-lorraine occupies the same metaphorical-and-literal narrative space as munch, of being a device of debts paid and owed, of use and abuse through the concept of debt, but she exists at the other end of the scale. she represents the eternal "ruling class" in both a literal and metaphorical sense, just as munch represents an eternal "oppressed class" in both a literal and metaphorical sense; he is forced to take on the debts of others because he's powerless, lorraine claims the debts of others to be empowered by them. i don't think we're meant to see her as a redeemed girlboss; she's supposed to be an implacable force of nature, and sometimes awful people like roy get swept up in that tide too, but that doesn't mean she's on anyone's side but her own. it's just that now she sees dot as "belonging" to her, and she protects what belongs to her.

-when they're praying at the dinner table and the prayer ends munch does not let go of dot's hand; she has to pull her hand away from his. thisisfine.jpg

-a charting of ole munch's life: we know he was born in wales, but uses a scandinavian name and mentions crossing the sea in longboats. vikings did know how to travel by water from scandinavia to greenland to canada, but they had basically stopped doing this completely by the 1500s; idk if we're meant to believe ole hitched a ride on an ill fated expedition or what, but technically they did know how to get there, they just had given up on attempting to colonize it, so the timeline is a little wonky there. regardless of that, the indigenous groups he mentions are the cree, arapaho and tonkawa, which were primarily in canada, colorado, and oklahoma, respectively. judging by this, he left wales and traveled north to adopt a new identity in scandinavia (sin eaters were treated as pariahs in their communities, so that's presumably why he left), then at some point sailed across to canada, then traveled west across canada, then south through colorado, then on to oklahoma. the tonkawa were forced south into texas in the 1700s, but then were relocated back to oklahoma later; during the civil war they were heavily massacred, so it could be that is what he's referring to when he talks about "the cannons and the muskets," but the timeline on when he actually lived with them is wobbly too. it's all kinda vague and the timeline is a little weird but not unfeasible.

-all throughout the final scenes, ole refuses to eat or drink anything the lyons give him- he doesn't actually drink either the orange soda or the beer wayne gives him, and when he's describing the "sins of the rich," he pushes his untouched plate of chili away without tasting it. like maybe he's convinced this is all a big trick; that the last time people brought him into their home and gave him a plate of food, it condemned him. ergo, the biscuit is more than just a gesture of forgiveness from dot; for him, taking a bite was also a gesture of trust in her. ow oof my heart.