#v + glenn

[biblio-smia]

the last thing i need — three

warnings: twd content warnings

pairings: glenn rhee x reader

[one.] [two.] [three.]

Glenn's absence weighed heavier on your shoulders than you'd anticipated. Occasionally, you'd look behind you and expect to find him there, eyes on you, only to find no one there. Every time you turned to look ended with a shake of your head and turning back to whatever was in front of you.

Perhaps the feeling was as outwardly obvious as it was strong, as Jacqui looked at you with pity in her warm brown eyes, inviting you to sit with the women.

They had taken a break from laundry to sit and chat, but you thought that picking up where they left off would keep your mind off of Glenn.

It didn't work very well.

You blamed one of Glenn's shirts that came up with stains that would never come out. Nevertheless, you tried, taking your time and being extra gentle with the piece of clothing. Even while he was away, Glenn got special treatment from you — and you hated it.

The mission the men departed on should've been calling your name. It did at first, at least for a little while, enticing you with an opportunity to escape the camp you found yourself on.

The desire to go vanished once Glenn revealed he would be going, too.

The brief conversation you had with Glenn weighed on your chest, a feeling too thick to swallow stuck in your throat.

You acted hastily then, overcome with an emotion you didn’t want to admit. Now it was just you and your thoughts, trying to come up with an alternate, much more reasonable explanation.

You told yourself you didn't try to join in on the mission because it'd be harder to separate from the group in the city filled with walkers. There was space to move here, space to slip off quietly if you were more careful than last time.

It wasn't because of the was your lips pulsed after meeting Glenn's cheek. It wasn't because of the way your heart pounded at the thought of him back in the city you barely escaped.

Solitude was familiar. Although it was never true, not with all the walkers you encountered, it was all you'd known for a while. You tried to keep up with it even now at this camp bustling with life, isolating yourself from the women just a few feet away — but the company was tempting.

And stubborn.

Andrea turned to wave you over, patting a spot near her. The rest of the women followed her lead with warm smiles that shone on the darkest parts of you, filling you with an unwilling joy.

You abandoned Glenn's shirt and accepted the invitation, although you were quiet for the most part — save for the little laughs the girls pulled out of you.

The five of you watched as the water glistened in the sunlight, exchanging stories and laughter as they confessed what they missed most about the old word.

"Speaking of things we miss... what's up with you and Glenn?" Andrea inquired with a grin and a bump to your shoulder. The rest of the women were silent but you could tell the question was on their mind, too — they just weren't as straightforward or bold to ask it.

"What?" You asked, feeling a little embarrassed at the question. There was really no reason to, but you couldn't help but feel like the tiptoeing around your own emotions was useless if suspicion of anything between you and Glenn was this high. "No, there's nothing up with us," you shook your head.

"Really? Cause I could've sworn you went into his tent the first night you got here—" Andrea spoke, earning a few gasps and small laughs from the other women.

Oh. She meant that.

Now you were really embarrassed.

You didn't have time to form an answer as a man approached — Carol's husband. His expression was humorless as he pressed for details of your conversation, pushing your group closer and closer to discomfort and defense — namely, Andrea.

You didn't blame her for it. You didn't blame her for calling out Ed's laziness and his abuse towards Carol, the news making your eyes widen and your body move in front of Carol defensively. Your hands weren't enough to stop Ed in the commotion, not as you saw how tightly he was gripping on to Carol.

No, Ed didn't stop until he was beat to a pulp by Shane.

You could hear your heart pound and feel the anxious sweat on your palms as you and the rest of the women did your best to comfort Carol, trying to focus on helping her rather than the violence you'd just witnessed.

Ed deserved it, undoubtedly, but it did not make you any less weary of Shane. Something about the man was off-putting. Something about him made you uneasy but you couldn't figure out what. No one else seemed to pick up on anything strange, so you kept quiet and kept your distance.

But one look at Ed's face told you that maybe you'd have to look out for the living more than the dead.

-

A stupid part of you waited anxiously for Glenn's return, knowing his presence would ease you even if he was unaware of your caution. It was awful, this feeling — one you'd felt before, but never quite this intense. This feeling would make you stupid if you let it — part of the reason you'd wanted to abandon ship at first hint of it.

There was no time for things like romance anymore, no matter how badly you craved it. It was about survival now.

And yet, you couldn't help but remember how you felt when Glenn's hands were on you, his lips on your neck —

You shook your head. This was no time for that.

Night was beginning to creep up and Glenn still had not returned. That feeling in your throat almost made it impossible to breathe.

The night was eerie despite the soft chatter of voices and crickets, the light of a fire illuminating faces with golden warmth. You took a plate of food and sat off by yourself, taking the opportunity to gather your thoughts. All the plans you'd previously had were in shambles. No next move you thought of felt right. Your fingers tapped on your knee nervously, teeth chewing up your lip in thought.

Maybe, if you hadn’t been alone for so long, you wouldn’t have picked up on the low groans from behind you.

You stood and pulled your knife in one swift motion, plunging the blade into the walker’s head, feeling the blood splatter on you. Another walker replaced the fallen one immediately, a small hoard in pursuit, pushing you towards the others.

The others.

“Walkers!” You called, distancing yourself from the pack just enough to turn around.

But you and your familiarity with being alone were not used to fighting with others. It had been too long since you have had to fight for anyone. Your warning was too late and there was nothing you could do but watch as a walker bit Amy.

Self-preservation is what you know, your attention snapping back to the problem ahead of you just in time. You know these movements better than anything - push them back, stab the knife into their heads, just enough to hit the brain - but the walkers don't stop coming.

All you are aware of are the screams behind you, begging for your attention as your heart lurches with the urge to help families trying to find each other in the chaos that has suddenly taken over camp.

You try to focus, try to convince yourself that helping yourself is helping them, that each walker down is one less walker able to bite and infect.

Gunshots ring out from behind you, next to you, all around you as walkers take over.

“Get to the R.V! Go!” Someone shouts over the sound of the bullets.

The crowd was at least thinning out now. Your arm was tiring from the repetitive movements, but you didn’t dare stop.

Not until there was only one walker left in front of you.

Even in the dim light of the camp, you can recognize her. Your heart feels heavy in your chest and guilt clogs your throat.

What was left of your sister dragged her body towards you, mouth ready to bite.

-

Your arm fell limp by your side. Your breath caught in your throat. A bullet hit your sister (no, not your sister) and someone screamed. Maybe it was you.

You dropped with her, stationed on your knees as you watched your sister reach for you.

Most of her was missing and the last time you saw her flashed in your mind. She’d yelled at you not to look back at her but you couldn’t help it; Now you were left with the image of her caught in the mouths of walkers, all desperate for a bite.

She’d sacrificed herself for you to continue on. To live.

And here she was now, because you couldn’t bring yourself to shoot her back then.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Your face was wet. Was it blood, sweat, or tears?

-

Glenn was sure he’d hit a walker with his bullet, but your scream made him doubt himself as he ran. Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl cleared the rest of the hoard, but Glenn’s only worry now was you.

His footsteps slowed as he spotted you, cradling a body that hadn’t been alive in a while. Though the body had stopped moving now - Glenn noticed the knife you plunged into the back of its head.

Glenn called your name softly, kneeling on the ground to join you. His hand came to your shoulder and he could see the tears drip off your face and make silent splatters on the zombie in your arms.

“We can bury her,” Glenn said quietly. “We do that for the ones we love.”

You nodded and your face found Glenn’s chest, your arms letting go of your sister, cold and dead, and clinging on to the warm body next to you. Alive.

You couldn’t be more grateful.

-

The aftermath was chaos. The bodies, littered everywhere, were unnerving. The children cried and Andrea sat over her sister’s corpse all night.

You knew exactly how she felt. You made sure she knew it, too. She didn’t speak a word as you cleaned as much blood from Amy’s body as you could. Her gaze never left her sister as you cleaned her own hands.

“There,” you said. You looked back at the rest of the group watching you, some desperate to put a bullet in Amy’s brain. “You take all the time you need. Don’t let them take that from you.”

You expected the lack of response as you stood, unwavering as you stared Daryl down, watching as he shook his head and went off to keep dragging the bodies.

-

You didn’t speak when you heard footsteps follow you to the edge of the woods. You knew who it was, and what he was doing. You wished you could hate him for it.

��Let me help,” Glenn offered from behind you as you looked at your sister’s body. It laid exactly as you’d left it before, but the daylight revealed the horrific state she died in.

You accepted Glenn’s help wordlessly, taking her shoulders while he grabbed her feet.

“Had to fight Dixon to bury our people. I mean, he just wanted to burn them!” Glenn shook his head, eyes glancing up to yours.

He was too good. That was it. That was what you hated so much.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, no, I did. For her. For Amy, too. And everyone else back there. We still have to have some humanity, right? Or else we’re just surviving, not... not living.”

Glenn’s words rang in your mind as the two of you carried the body through the thick Georgia heat, sweat dripping down every part of you.

Living. Not just surviving.

Your sister’s last words. Her last wish. For you to live.

You looked back up at Glenn as the two of you dropped your sister in the “Bury” pile, watching as he adjusted his cap and wiped some sweat off his brow.

Live. Not just survive.

Maybe Glenn could help you figure out what that meant.

-

Soft chatter surrounded you as you sat off to the side, knees pulled up to your chest. You sat away from the group, as you always did, keeping an eye on the people and another on the woods.

There was talk of going to the CDC. You weren't sure how well that was going to work out if the CDC looked like the rest of the world.

But there was something in the group as they spoke to each other, even after everything that had happened today. There was hope, small sparks of it glowing like the embers of a fire.

Maybe you'd let yourself have some of it, too.

"Hey," a voice spoke, pulling up a chair next to you.

"Hey." You glanced up at Glenn, watching him run a hand through his hair, his cap in his hand.

The sun glistened off his skin, making his hair shine as he turned his head to look at you. There was a trace of a smile but an even bigger hint of a question on his lips.

You knew what the question would be. But you still weren't quite sure of your answer.

"What happened in Atlanta?" You ask, hoping to buy yourself time and realizing that everything that had happened after Glenn's returned had prevented you from asking about it sooner.

"Atlanta." Glenn repeats, the place seeming so foreign to him now. "Well, we got the guns." He laughs, sounding too forced, eyes wandering over the faces that remain. You're quiet, feeling the guilt you share heavy in the air.

"But we ran into some guys."

Your eyebrows raise at this - you don't know strangers nowadays to be particularly friendly. Glenn was rare.

"And you just handed over guns?" You didn't mean to sound accusing, but you were trying to paint out what had happened.

"Well... kind of? I mean, we worked out a deal."

"What deal?"

Glenn hesitates, trying to work the story without having to mention the more embarrassing details.

"They were taking care of a whole bunch of elderly people. They were just... abandoned."

You seem to relax at this, at least slightly. "They could've just shot you and taken everything." You're only half-serious but Glenn doesn't quite catch that.

"They really wanted to. Especially Daryl, he had-"

Glenn cuts himself off but he's already piqued your curiosity as you lean forward in your seat, urging Glenn to continue.

"Well, it was a little bit of a situation," Glenn starts exasperatedly. "They had taken one of us, we took one of theirs... It just- It happened really fast!"

"They kidnapped you?"

How bad of a liar is he? Glenn stutters but his lack of a coherent response is enough to fill in the blanks for you.

Your chest hurts strangely, your fingers messing nervously with the hard surface of your nails. You've begun to avoid looking at Glenn just as he glances at you, a heavy silence that a part of you is desperate to fill, nervous it will make Glenn stand and place his chair elsewhere.

You had been saved from answering questions from others about Glenn earlier but nothing was able to halt the constant thoughts you had about him. You're not sure how much longer you can keep running from it - you're not sure how much good it'll do.

"So, the CDC?" You asked, hoping Glenn's answer would help guide you towards one of your own.

"Rick thinks it's our best shot."

"And you trust him?" There was no mockery or accusation in your voice — only genuine curiosity.

Glenn looked down at his cap, nodding a little. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do."

"You just met him," you noted quietly, knowing very well Glenn had met both you and Rick on the same day.

"You don't need to know someone for years to know you can trust them."

You looked up to see Glenn staring at you. Clearly, he wasn't just talking about Rick.

"That type of thinking could get you killed," you say quietly.

"Or it could save my life."

Live.

Your knee bounced anxiously as you thought about it. About what going with these people would mean.

It'd mean companions, for starters. No more nights fighting to stay awake, watching your own back. It'd mean splitting supplies. It'd mean strength in numbers.

You looked at Glenn again.

It could lead to something else, too.

"I'll go with you. To the CDC," you start softly, watching from the corner of your eye as Glenn's head snapped toward you, clearly in disbelief. "It sounds promising."

You barely knew Rick. You barely knew any of these people. But Glenn trusted Rick and you trusted Glenn. That's the only thing you were sure of now.

Glenn looked at you with a boyish, handsome grin and the corners of your lips raised to mirror his.

Your hand reached for Glenn's, interlacing your fingers with his. Your hands found his over and over — throughout the night, in the morning, as you packed into Dale's R.V. and towards the CDC. As you left Jim behind. As you almost died outside of the fortified building. As you finally made it inside.

The building was large and seemed safe enough — there was no way Dr. Jenner could have made it this far if it wasn't. But it wasn't until a large table full of food and drinks was set, laughter chiming in your ears, did you finally begin to relax.

A smile spread on your own face as Carl tries wine for this first time, his face morphing into one of disgust as the rest of you laughed. This mood, light and playful, was one you haven't experienced in who knows how long. There's a thick feeling of appreciation in your throat, hot and heavy in your chest. You're almost emotional, thinking of every sacrifice it took for you to be here, today, laughing and talking over dinner again.

But Shane, always solemn, can't seem to stand the uncharacteristic liveliness that has found the group tonight.

"So, when are you going to tell us what the hell happened here, doc?" The laughter is killed instantly, an uncomfortable silence falling on the once chattering table.

'We're celebrating, Shane," Rick starts, the tension between the former best friends particularly prominent. "Don't need to do this now."

Eyes flicker between the two with an occasional flicker to the doctor in the room, but downward gazes and quiet sips of wine offered neutrality from most.

"Woah, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move... Supposed to find all the answers. Instead, we found one man. Why?"

"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?" Shane asks dryly, suspiciously.

"No, many couldn't face walking out the door. They... opted out. There was a rash of suicides." Most shuffle uncomfortably, looking at anywhere but at Jenner. "That was a bad time."

"You didn't leave," Andrea notes, one of the only ones still invested in learning about Jenner. "Why?"

"I just kept working. Hoping... to do some good."

It's a good answer for most, no matter the somber tone. It's enough for you; you just hope that Shane's poking and prodding won't push the man that has seen too much too far. The last thing you want is to be kicked out now.

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man." Shane avoids Glenn's stare and you cross your arms, decisively done for the night.

Jenner gives you a small tour of the facility, mainly of the rooms you'll be occupying. A piece of you wonders what else there is, but the majority of you aches for a peaceful night.

Jenner has disappeared into a different room and the group has stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"Hot water?" Glenn glances to the rest of the group before his gaze lands on you, standing behind him.

"That's what the man said," T-Dog grins.

Glenn's smile is contagious, creeping up slowly despite you missing what Jenner said. But if Glenn is excited about it, it's got to be worth it.

The hot water on your skin completely is.

You try to savor each drop of water, relishing in the steam curling off the water. You can't remember the last time you had the luxury of hot water but you resign, letting everything roll off of you along with the water.

You scrub at your skin, mindlessly and too roughly, thinking about everything that has happened in the last few days. Everything about the last few months.

Your sister was dead. The guilt in your throat wasn't any easier to swallow.

Something had happened between Rick and Glenn on their trip back to Atlanta. Glenn stuck out his neck for Rick on that very first day that your paths had all crossed, so Rick risked his own for Glenn. At least there was someone else in the group that would do that for him.

Atlanta. Nothing in that overriden city could've prepared you for the overwhelming company you now found yourself traveling with. There was no ounce of you that imagined you might find someone to love again.

You shut the water off once you're sure you've scrubbed every crevice of yourself, your skin rubbed raw in a few places.

The towels you've been given are rough, thin, and terrible shields against the cold air that blasts through the facility but you don't mind. Nothing matters other than the feeling of the fresh clothes Jenner has managed to scrounge up, missing all the dirt and blood that's stained your clothes for months.

A part of you, as you settle into the first empty room you see, wonders how long it'll be until the clothes you're wearing now will be bloodstained again.

You've taken to cleaning off your knife, in the spirit of the fresh scent of soap sticking to your skin and the pristine condition of the garments on your body. You're careful not to stain anything with the shades of red and brown of your knife, barely lifting your head when you hear someone enter the room you've claimed.

"Sorry, didn't think anyone was in here..."

Glenn trails off when he spots your smile, your hand waving him over to the spot next to you. He takes it, body tense as he tries to keep his eyes off of you.

Glenn thought you were perfect before, but without the layer of grime on you, all he wants to do is stare.

Glenn thinks he's being sneaky until your eyes meet his, Glenn's already flushed face reddening even more.

He's too terrified to make a move, still wondering where it is he stands with you. You're not lovers as far as he's aware, though it's a losing battle on his side. Glenn thinks he'd do anything to get inside your head and see for himself what it was you thought about him. He wanted you to like him, desperately, his body aching for contact with yours. He wanted to kiss you until he memorized you and every one of your smiles.

But he'd take whatever it is you wanted to give him. He'd hold your hand whenever you reached for it, on your own terms, right up until you pulled away.

The sudden arrival of man-eating freaks had forced Glenn, for the most part, to mature; to learn how to fight, to look out for others in ways his shitty job as a delivery boy had not yet taught him. From one day to the next, he had outgrown the red uniform that always seemed to smell of food no matter how many times it was washed. Though no one cared to ask about the person Glenn was Before, he liked to think he was the same Glenn who had, with his own will, made it through high school and to college, on his own.

But, in some ways, Glenn still felt immature. All that time he had spent working and studying had left him with little free time for personal indulgences. He had never prioritized romance and now that it was here, in front of him, he found himself on his ass more often than on his feet.

The door opens again and Glenn’s head whips towards it like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t, his flushed face not doing him any favors. But it’s just Shane, so Glenn’s shoulders relax, eyes glancing over the man and landing on the bottle of bourbon in his hand.

Shane spares a sideways glance, eyes stuck on you as he takes a swig from the nearly empty bottle. Glenn’s eyes follow Shane’s and eventually fall on you, too; notably, the knife in your lap, practically shining from how much you’d been wiping it.

"You're a real whiz with that knife.” Shane props himself against the doorframe, probably to keep from stumbling. There’s a sudden smile on his face, too wide to put you at ease. “Good thing I stopped ya from leaving that first night, huh?"

Shane grins through his words as he takes another swig, eyes still stuck on you as Glenn stands. He’s turned towards you, eyes searching for any indication that Shane is just drunk, or out of his mind; but you’re stuck, eyebrows drawn and lips set in a straight line as you stare at Shane right back.

Glenn steps into Shane’s line of sight, effectively breaking the wordless confrontation. Shane’s eyes move to him now, trying to slip past Shane wordlessly. Shane shifts, blocking Glenn’s way. But before he can speak, Glenn has shoved his way into the hallway.

"I'm just looking out for you, man!" Shane calls behind him before his lips find the top of the bottle again.

You’re in front of Shane before you can help it, eyes trying to follow Glenn. But just as he did before, Shane has turned toward you, his large build blocking any easy ways out.

"Why didn't you just kill me that night, then? I know you wanted to."

"That's not true.” There’s a grin on Shane’s face that tells you he’s lying.

"Yeah."

The look of amusement on Shane’s face drops. He has learned from last time and fights back when you try to push past him. One of his hands keeps you pinned to the doorframe, pressing painfully on your shoulder.

“You’re just another mouth to feed,” Shane drawls, his breath reeking of alcohol. “You don’t deserve a guy like Glenn.”

There was more to it, you were sure. Glenn had told you that Shane was their leader and wasn’t fond of newcomers. Especially when one wanted his wife and kid back.

You could tell Shane felt challenged by Rick despite their history. Maybe Shane thought of you as a wildcard, neither loyal to him nor Rick. But if you would stick with Glenn, who would clearly follow Rick anywhere, weren’t you a threat?

You pushed Shane’s arm forcefully, the alcohol in his bottle swishing as he stumbles.

“You should’ve killed me,” you say, smiling suddenly. “You’re not getting another chance.”

Glenn moves down the hallway briskly, his feet taking him further and further away from you. There’s that feeling in your chest again, the same one you felt with Glenn back at the camp you had abandoned. It was fear, but it wasn’t the familiar kind that you’d spent months fighting along with the walkers. This one was thicker, heavier, putting a pressure on your chest that made it difficult to breathe. Unfortunately, you had come to care about Glenn Rhee.

And as Glenn walks away, he feels as though he has, once again, found himself on his ass.

[theaestheticmodels]

[macden]

glob compilation

[389]

V/H/S (2012)

David Bruckner Ti West Glenn McQuaid Joe Swanberg Radio Silence (Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, Tyler Gillett, Justin Martinez, and Chad Villella) Adam Wingard

[secondstar-acorn]

Happy Valentine’s Day from the s1 daddies!

[guiltandrecourse]

this dndads live show has everything. Darryl now canonically being a Leeds fan. Henry inviting talking matcha for a threesome. Ron getting bummed by Scam Likely.

[volchitsa-of-winterfell]

what do you mean i missed amber going clean in the short WITH A 3A because i was making tea.

[raraeavesmoriendi]

I just finished last night and I have some questions for people who have read mike bockoven’s fantasticland -

[for those who have not:

- take a climate change-charged hurricane that’s the worst noaa has seen in recent memory and the first to hit daytona beach since 1960

- throw it at a Not-Disney-World Florida theme park with major national nostalgia, where a bunch of the Not-Disney College Program kids and some adult staff have opted to get paid extra to stay inside the park through the storm to prevent looting

- watch as people trapped within the park for more than a month - still with plenty of food and water, mind you - lose their minds, fragment into factions, and begin going full battle royale/lord of the flies on each other

- tell the whole thing testimonial style with different witnesses interviewed each chapter, a la World War Z, with some insanely unreliable narrators to boot

if that sounds like your kind of horror novel, give it a go. it’s not perfect (especially when they call the factions ‘tribes,’ which. yikes.) but I tore through it in like, two days.]

okay, questions below, spoilers for the novel:

1. …is the pirate who comforted the little boy who was evacuating, in interview three with the kansas city dad, Brock Hockley? am I reading too much into that?

like. I don’t remember that we ever get a description of him, so I don’t know about the “weird beard/mustache thing” the dad describes, but just. the emphasis put on “I’d like to shake his hand. I might even give him a hug.” feels so purposeful. part of me wonders if that’s supposed to add some further hindsight horror to what happened in the park and then his prison interview. he says early that he found making little kids happy a fulfilling and rewarding part of his job as a character actor in the park, and we know other people found him charismatic enough to follow, not just because they were scared but bc he could have these moments of surface-level charm or rationality (the code, etc.)

idk, I just thought it felt a bit too one-off to read it as Just Some Guy. but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I could be wrong.

2. we never get any hint as to the identity of the warthog couple, right? I remember the FNG found their masks discarded outside the World Circus, they’re first mentioned in the book as hanging around/inside the circus, and the guy from the Dreamland Hotel interview talks about still getting postcards from them whenever he moves (scariest part of the whole book for me ngl), so we can assume they were walked out with the rest of the survivors. I just wasn’t sure if there was anything else to do with them that I missed.

I’m still thinking about the fact that they turned the Dreamland lobby into a torture theater. like… who was that for? just for them, or did they have an audience? probably not, right? since they weren’t affiliated with anyone? but still. also, who were they taking there, just people they could pick off???

hmm. I wonder if any casualties thought to be faction-related were actually theirs.

3. in Travis’s interview (the guy with the body camera), do we know who the girl is that they found in the crawlspace of the employee locker room? the one whispering “Mommy” over and over? there were enough survivors left that she could be someone we didn’t encounter before, but I just thought I’d check that there wasn’t some other interview where someone describes a girl running off to hide. the Anonymous shopgirl mentioned one of the girls disappeared during the cannon raid on Pirate turf with the Deadpool soldiers before they turned on each other, so I wondered if it could be her.

4. Brock in his interview mentions that Sam Garlieck’s people were terrorizing others during the power outage in the storm shelter, specifically mentioning an instance of sexual assault. does anyone else corroborate this in their interview? Adam Jakes sounds skeptical, saying his research would have turned that up by now, but the only people we really hear from about that period are Sam himself (obviously an unreliable narrator, like, duh) and Stuart Dietz, who mentioned that Sam definitely killed Maria Flynn. did anyone see any other mentions of this anywhere, or did we just move straight out of the storm shelters and never talk about them again once we get to the park? is this just Brock being an unreliable narrator himself to justify how things went down? (but then why would he need to be, when Bryce definitely died?? although he himself says that wasn’t as big a motivator as people writing about him want it to be, so maybe that’s moot)

5. not really a question just an observation: Stuart Dietz, the maintenance guy/Mole Man, is the only person to get two interviews in the entire novel. Not Sam, not Jill, not Brock. I don’t know, I just find that really interesting why he was selected to come back twice. I know part of it is to describe the botched demolition, but I’m also wondering what effect it has on the novel that the only person we hear from multiple times is an older dude from one of the pointedly non-aggressive factions.

6. in looking through posts already in the tag, I don’t quite follow some readers’ comments that there was an attempt at a “cell phones bad!!” message here. I feel like every time it’s come up, it’s been shown by Adam Jakes (author stand-in) to be minimizing what really happened and looking for an easy scapegoat. I don’t think that was part of the intended story at all, I think it’s just been stated over and over as people using an excuse to not think themselves capable of similar violence. just wanted to put that out there.

anyway. one of my favorite things about novels with multi-witness perspectives is finding threads that leave off in one person’s story and pick up in another, so I’m going through my digital copy and highlighting all the places two different interviews tie together (Austin’s fate, the guy who botched branding Adrienne as part of his Pirate initiation, etc.)

if anyone else has noticed anything interesting, I’m all ears 👀

[lonestarflight]

"Skylab Shroud in the Space Power Facility

The 56-foot tall, 24,400-pound Skylab shroud installed in the Space Power Facility’s vacuum chamber at the National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s (NASA) Plum Brook Station. The Space Power Facility, which began operations in 1969, is the largest high vacuum chamber ever built. The chamber is 100 feet in diameter and 120 feet high. It can produce a vacuum deep enough to simulate the conditions at 300 miles altitude. The Space Power Facility was originally designed to test nuclear-power sources for spacecraft during long durations in a space atmosphere, but it was never used for that purpose. Payload shrouds are aerodynamic fairings to protect the payload during launch and ascent to orbit. The Skylab mission utilized the largest shroud ever attempted. Unlike previous launches, the shroud would not be jettisoned until the spacecraft reached orbit. NASA engineers designed these tests to verify the dynamics of the jettison motion in a simulated space environment. Fifty-four runs and three full-scale jettison tests were conducted from mid-September 1970 to June 1971. The shroud behaved as its designers intended, the detonators all fired, and early design issues were remedied by the final test. The Space Power Facility continues to operate today. The facility can sustain a high vacuum; simulate solar radiation via a 4-megawatt quartz heat lamp array, solar spectrum by a 400-kilowatt arc lamp, and cold environments."

Date: December 1, 1970

NASA ID: GPN-2000-001462, .GRC-1970-C-03691, 4588H

[biblio-smia]

the last thing i need — two.

warnings: twd content warnings, contains smut

pairings: glenn rhee x reader

[one.] [two.] [three.]

The ride back to your destination was a silent one, save for the occasional directions from T-Dog and the distant sound of the siren of Glenn's new ride.

Nerves prickled at your skin like needles as you considered your minimal options; you'd just gotten saved by this group. You thought it'd be a little rude to abandon them immediately. But the reaction of the group worried you the most; you weren't sure how welcoming they were of newcomers.

Seeing Rick reunite with his family was heartwarming - what were the chances he ran into people that ran with them? It was almost hard to believe Rick had been in the dark about the state of the world until recently. Part of you wondered how it'd take for him to lose his humanity. For all of you to lose it.

This new world came with new rules - though you didn't know how well your morals would hold up now.

The camp accepted you into their group with no argument, seemingly in a good mood after seeing a family brought together.

The campfire provided the warmth you needed and Glenn's body next to yours provided a warmth you didn't know you craved.

****

You weren't quite sure what to do with yourself once the flames died out, a reflection of the group's energy. You stood around, watching the embers of the fire die out as everyone packed into their tents. A cool breeze picked up, nipping at your skin tauntingly.

"You can sleep with me."

You turned around, surprised at the sudden voice.

"I mean," You could see the embarrassment on Glenn's face despite the pale moonlight. "I didn't mean it in that way."

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you, prompting a small, awkward laugh from Glenn.

"Okay. I don't really have a choice, do I?" Your attempt at a joke came out much too dry. Too late. You could see, or more so sense, Glenn's face fall.

You stepped closer to Glenn, lowering your voice and drawing him in.

"I'd love to sleep with you. In that way."

Quickly walking past him, you climbed into his small orange tent, the embarrassment suddenly catching up to you.

Glenn followed shortly after, balled up flannel held stiffly in front of his legs as he took a seat as far away from you as possible.

You shot him a curious glance, only momentarily distracted by the tight t-shirt he was wearing.

Glenn glanced away quickly, hands pulling the fabric closer against himself.

A small smile made its way to your face as you closed the distance between you and Glenn - though there wasn't much to begin with.

"Glenn." You placed your hands over his, trying to pry the flannel away.

"Glenn." Placing one hand on his face, you got him to look at you, to see the gentle smile on your face. "I was serious."

You tugged on the flannel again, all the strength leaving Glenn as he let you do what you wanted. You stared at Glenn's jeans, straining against his erection.

"I-" Glenn began, but you cut him off.

"Let me help you?"

Glenn audibly gulped, but nodded. That was all you needed.

You kissed Glenn gently, savoring the feeling of his soft lips against yours. His flannel had fallen out of your hand and landed somewhere on the ground nearby - your hand was now occupied with stroking Glenn through his jeans.

You tilted Glenn’s head back to deepen the kiss, increasing the pressure of your hand against Glenn’s jeans. Glenn moaned softly into your mouth and into your ear as you moved your lips to his cheek and down his neck. Your lips were running out of places to wander and so you removed yourself completely from Glenn.

"Shirt off." You ordered, taking off your own. It was a little funny to see Glenn clumsily do as you said, already missing your touch.

You took a moment to admire Glenn - his toned arms and stomach contrasted his soft face and demeanor. He captured your lips this time, hands messily traveling around your waist.

"Here-" you whispered in between kisses. You stripped yourself nude and Glenn became the brightest shade of red you'd ever seen.

"Shit..." Glenn's hands froze, unsure of what he was allowed to do.

You took his hands in yours, guiding them up to your chest. You let out a low moan as he began exploring the area, his gentle movements sending heat straight between your legs.

Your kisses became more aggressive as you moved onto Glenn's lap, needing more of him. Your bare chest pressed against his as your hands gently tugged at Glenn’s hair, wet kisses exchanged as lust completely took over. The heat between your legs was one only he could put out now that he'd ignited it.

You rolled your hips as Glenn's hands continued working you, moans slipping out of him as you moved against his still-clothed dick. His hard-on poked against you as you bounced on him, making you moan into Glenn’s shoulder. “Shit, I can feel you, Glenn.”

"God, please," Glenn whined, placing a hand on your hip. Glenn was going to stain his jeans if this went on any longer. "I- I need you."

"Fuck, Glenn." You muttered, shoving your tongue into his mouth.

Your hands moved down to unbutton Glenn's jeans, his hands coming down to help you in getting them and his underwear off.

You clenched against nothing just seeing him, almost unable to wait for the feeling of Glenn inside of you. He was already leaking in anticipation, eager for your touch.

Your hands wrapped around him immediately, messily twisting and jerking, small gasps and whines from Glenn making you drip.

"Fuck, you're good, you're so good," Glenn moaned quietly, head thrown back in pleasure. It wasn't long before he stopped your hands from working him.

"Wait," he panted. "I wanna..." Glenn's eyes moved down to your legs and you understood his wordless intentions. Slowly, you moved your hands off him and to your own jeans, slowly slipping your bottom layers off.

And, God, you were beautiful.

Glenn pushed a pile of clothes together to create more space between you and the cold, hard ground of the tent, laying you down gently.

"Is this good? Are you okay?" Glenn asked nervously, glancing at your eyes for any hint of regret as he hovered over you.

"I'm good." You ran your fingers through Glenn's hair, pushing back some that had fallen into his eyes. "I'm better than good."

"Can I... Can I touch you?"

"Yes," You nodded. "Please do."

"I'm not really good at this," Glenn warned. "So just tell me if I do something wrong, okay?"

"Okay."

Glenn felt your arousal, fingers slick as he entered them into you. He bit back a moan as he felt you, wet because of him. Glenn took his time fingering you, sweet and slow movements making you bite your tongue to keep from letting the entire camp know how skilled Glenn's hands were.

"Glenn," urgency filling your voice. "I need you in me, now."

"Shit, yeah, okay," Glenn nodded with only a moment's hesitation. "I don't have- I don't have a condom."

"Doesn't matter," Your desire dazed you, keeping you from thinking straight. "Just pull out?"

"Yeah, okay," Glenn nodded again, hands on your hips to keep you steady.

You closed your eyes in anticipation, though nothing could've prepared you for the sweet feeling of Glenn, filling you with something you'd never felt before.

You muffled your moans with your hands, which were quickly replaced with Glenn's lips, his own sounds of pleasure mixing with yours.

He lifted one of your legs, muscles flexing with strain as he pushed further into you. His thrusts started sweet yet purposeful, hitting you in exactly the right place.

"God, Glenn." Your back arched into him, his movements quickening. You knew you were done for as he moved his face to your shoulder in an attempt to muffle his loudest moan yet.

"Glenn, I'm gonna- " You were cut off by Glenn's swollen lips on yours, sloppy kisses exchanged as you came, sweetly and with nothing else to lose.

Glenn pulled out quickly, coming right after. His will had broken down when your high was reached, knowing he couldn't last long after the feeling of you unloading around him - knowing he had helped you reach euphoria.

Your chest heaved as Glenn searched for something to clean your mess up with, already missing the feeling of Glenn inside of you. It felt right - his body pressed against yours, filling all the empty spaces you were missing.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, cleaning up alongside an equally winded Glenn. He laid down next to you, turning to face you.

"That was... amazing." Glenn whispered, cupping your face in his hand, mindful of your bruised cheek.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He kissed you again, gently. This one, however, was full of hope.

****

The crunching of leaves under your boots seemed like the loudest thing in the world compared to the silence of the camp, the only persisting sound being a variety of bugs singing.

“Going somewhere?” A voice asked expectantly, almost out of nowhere.

Shit. You forgot Shane was on watch.

You turned around quickly. In the dim moonlight, you could make Shane out from a few feet away. You thought about your words before you spoke. Shane seemed like a reasonable man. A protective one, too.

“We both know it's better if I leave," you said honestly.

Shane scoffed. “For who? You? Because we both know it wouldn't be for the camp. Power in numbers, remember?”

Shane was smiling, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. His right hand inched near his back pocket - it was a subtle movement, but you had a good eye.

You laughed, demeanor changing immediately. “You're right,” you said. “I guess I was just... so used to being on my own. Don't know what I was thinking."

It was an obvious lie, but the break you forced your voice to take helped your case.

Shane’s hands dropped to his side and he smiled. “Glenn seems to taken a liking to you. Why don't ya get back to him?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, heading back to the direction of the tent you had left Glenn in. “Goodnight, Shane,” you said with a sweet smile as you passed the man, careful to keep your distance.

“Goodnight.”  

Your smile dropped as you turned around, rage filling you instead. You weren't sure if you imagined it now, the darkness of the night potentially messing with your eyes, but you made a note never to be alone with Shane again.

You entered the tent quietly, a half-naked Glenn sleeping soundly just as you'd left him. He'd fallen asleep with his arms wound around you, making your escape difficult and clearly in vain as you carefully placed his arms around you again. You turned away from him.

You didn't want to look at the face of the man you had planned on abandoning.

「 … 」

You made sure to get up first, unwinding yourself from Glenn for the second time. This time, however, daylight illuminated his soft features. You took a second to analyze them, his expression showing no indication of the world you lived in. He looked relaxed. Free. You wondered what he was dreaming about.

You left the tent quietly, still respectful of the peace Glenn was able to keep, even if it was just for a few hours. The sun shone over the small camp, the brand new day bringing new opportunities. You asked around for a purpose; you had originally planned on being miles away by now.

One lady, Carol, directed you to the laundry. You complied, the task being easy enough for you to plan your next move. You couldn't leave now, not when everyone was roaming around in broad daylight. You'd keep tabs on who was on watch tonight and run the other way. It was decided.

A quick-moving figure from the corner of your eye caught your attention as it approached. Your attention turned away from the laundry and onto Glenn, who seemed a little out-of-breath.

"You..." a breath, "were gone... thought something happened..."

You almost felt guilty at Glenn's concern.

"Nope. Right here," you remained expressionless, watching as Glenn's face faltered.

"Yeah, I see that now..." Glenn shifted from foot to foot. There was something he wanted to say, but he wouldn't.

Your expectant gaze and cold demeanor made him nervous, fingers bundling the fabric of his shirt.

"Last night..." Glenn waited for you to say anything; you did not. "I just wasn't sure if it... if we—"

"There's no we, Glenn. It was a one time thing." Your words were harsh, but they were true. The last thing you needed right now was romance. You were in an apocalypse! You had bigger things to worry about and so did Glenn. It was nothing more than a little bit of stress relief.

And yet, as you picked up a laundry bin and walked away from a defeated Glenn, you couldn't help but feel a pull at your heart.

The tug in your chest did not go away as the day went on. Not as you shadowed Carol, helping her out with any task you could. Especially not as you discovered the asshole on the roof had a brother.

Daryl Dixon was as much of a character as Merle. You could see the relationship between the two.

Your heart continued sinking as a plan unfolded — a completely stupid one — and the look Rick gave Glenn, asking him to come along. The nail in the coffin was Glenn agreeing to go.

A panic began to fester in you as Glenn prepared to leave. You weren't quite sure what made you approach him.

"You're seriously going back?" Your voice surprised Glenn, who jumped before turning to face you.

"I have to," Glenn said factually.

"Then I'm coming with you." You weren't sure where the sentiment came from; you did not feel strongly about saving Merle.

"No, you're not. We barely got out last time—" "Which is exactly why you shouldn't go." You crossed your arms, an annoyed look on your face.

Glenn sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"We left one of our own behind. I can't... as awful as he is, I couldn't live with myself knowing we just left him to die. He could still be alive up there."

You looked in Glenn's eyes, seeing the determination in his eyes. Although there was a hint of fear mixed in, it was almost the most passionate you'd seen Glenn.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you were in no condition to go back. You were tired and you were hungry. Your legs still ached from your escape and you weren't sure you'd be able to outrun another hoard of walkers.

And if you learned anything about Glenn other than his name, you knew he left no one behind. No exceptions.

"Okay," you said finally. Glenn hadn't been asking for your permission but a weight lifted off his shoulders regardless, a smile cracking on his face. "But I don't like owing people things. And as of right now, I owe you my life, Glenn. I need to repay you for that, so don't die on me out there."

Glenn's smile faltered and you held back a smile. After careful consideration and a little hesitation, you placed a soft kiss on Glenn's cheek. Glenn could only stand there, dumbfounded, watching as you walked away.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Brandi Buchman at HuffPost:

Virginia Gov. Glenn Youngkin’s (R) attempt to appeal a federal judge’s ruling that he was out of line when he purged 1,600 people from voter rolls — which he said was an attempt to keep suspected noncitizens from voting — failed at the 4th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals over the weekend. The appellate court’s order was unanimous. Youngkin plans to appeal the decision “immediately,” a spokesperson for Virginia Attorney General Jason Mirayes said Sunday. The next step will be the U.S. Supreme Court. U.S. District Judge Patricia Giles decided last week to reinstate 1,600 voters to the rolls in Virginia. In August, just 90 days before Election Day, Youngkin issued an executive order that instructed the Department of Motor Vehicles to remove noncitizens automatically from voter rolls.

Giles found that this likely violated the National Voter Registration Act’s 90-day “quiet period,” which prohibits sweeping, systematic changes or modifications to voter rolls before Election Day. The Justice Department sued Youngkin to stop the purge after plaintiffs including the Virginia Coalition for Immigrant Rights, the League of Women Voters of Virginia, the League of Women Voters of Virginia Education Fund, and African Communities Together had already launched their own lawsuit. The cases were consolidated. Ultimately, both parties argued that the automated purge unfairly swept up eligible citizen voters thanks to errors on DMV forms that incorrectly labeled them as noncitizens. The voter advocacy groups also argued that the purge was discriminatory, but Giles has not reached a decision on that specific claim. Giles’ ruling last week in no way ordered noncitizens to be put onto voter rolls. Instead, it found that Virginia had simply failed to present any evidence backing its decision to cancel registrations for the 1,600 voters. Attorneys for the commonwealth only provided the names and addresses of people impacted by the purge to the court, but whether they were actually noncitizens was unproven.

The 4th Circuit Court ruled against Virginia Governor Glenn Youngkin (R) in Virginia Coalition For Immigrant Rights v. Beals that his voter purge of 1,600 people from the Commonwealth’s voter rolls is unlawful.

Expect this case to go to SCOTUS.

[justablah56]

glennry as #20 for the touch prompts please!! i think that would be neat

20 - bandaging/stitching up an injury

glennry is literally so special to me . I should post them more

[macden]

pretty sure this is glenn trying not to break lsdjfklsd could they not get a take where he didn't giggle about anal beads

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

No but something I love is how fucking loyal Miklan really is (in Hopes specifically since we don't have enough information in Houses).

At the camp, he takes his job seriously. Very seriously. He doesn't act begrudging or like he's just doing anything by force. As the chapters go on he not only goes from relatively aloof to a full fledged commander (which is great development in that span of chapters btw considering how fast the story has to progress) and one who fights for Faerghus because he wants to (why would he reassure the player that he's going to, literally, hold down the fort? Why doesn't he flee when his life is in immediate danger despite that Dimtiri prefers his allies to flee and save their lives over sacrificing themselves? Why does he like helping citizens who had their lands destroyed by the war, despite being a bandit who used to plunge towns just like those?).

At any time when the Empire was attacking, he could've surrendered and even joined their side because of not liking Faerghus and its people... if he didn't like Faerghus and its people. Also, someone brought this up to me once that Miklan likely has family in the Empire still, because his mother was from the Empire. He had a perfectly good out that wouldn't even necessarily be considered treason to Faerghus, i.e. surrendering and going to the Empire to protect that side of his family.

He doesn't. He dies for Faerghus. It was both a matter of honor due to the fact that he was finally living the life he always should've been and wanted to be respected for that, and also his loyalty that followed in the past's wrongs being righted. No matter what you think of Miklan post disinheritance, he was the heir who was removed because he didn't have a Crest. All over just that, despite that Sylvain having a Crest never meant they didn't still have someone capable of fighting off Sreng invasions.

They had someone able to wield the Lance of Ruin, so why did it matter if he was officially the heir? Miklan felt like his life was stolen from him (and I'm not saying what he did to Sylvain was okay either). Dimitri gave him all of that back and he started to become loyal to Faerghus and its king because Dimitri was giving the chance even the man's own father never gave him from the moment Sylvain was determined to have a Crest.

What happened in his life before Dimitri had him brought to him as soon as he became king is, in a way, almost like it never happened as far as Miklan's behavior. It was obviously there at first, but over time it's like it never happened. That is, if someone met him and didn't know about his past, by chapter 9 they'd never even know he'd had that history. He was the person he would've been years ago if he hadn't been disinherited, which led to the mess that led to him being disowned (and he says he just "left", but Matthias doesn't mince facts. At all. If that had been the case he wouldn't just say he disowned him. He would admit Miklan ran away. That means Miklan claims he left as a means of coping and trying to convince other people that it was his choice and not forced on him).

Miklan became a lot more loyal than he's ever given credit for, both in the game and in the fandom. Gwendal did recognize it, but that's about all we're given.

Gwendal corrected himself when Miklan died, referring to him instead as Sir Miklan instead of the insults he was spewing during their fight which were very clearly pissing Miklan off; but Miklan kept fighting and defending the fort, not just because he wanted to prove Gwendal wrong but because he was here because he was pulled out of his life as a bandit. The people he was defending the fort for were the people who effectively gave him his life back.

Basically, he would've been there in that fort defending it anyway if he had lived the life he should have to begin with. If his value was acknowledged all along, he would've been defending the most important fort in Faerghus all along (if this exact scenario occurred and everything was the same except him being disowned in the first place). He would be there being the commander and fighter he was supposed to be.

Mind you, it was the king himself who gave him that chance, meaning the person who reigns over Faerghus and has the most power to change whatever the hell he wants - including how people with Crests and without are treated. Miklan was part of a fight to better their society and be part of the new generation taking over. Nobody could truly change things unless the king - the top power - had the thought to change them (not saying Lambert thought the political climate was good the way it was, but he clearly had other priorities and it didn't seem to be something weighing on his mind. He may not have even truly noticed the problems and power discrepancies because he was so focused on other things).

However, the moment the king thought to change all that old stuff, Miklan was one of the first people who came to mind, and one of the first people he took action regarding, to integrate into his new army (and he even mentioned completely rearranging his army and whatnot, and then we find out he had Miklan located basically right after becoming king. We had a two year timeskip and Miklan had been there for those two years because of how soon after Dimitri was crowned that he had decided to bring Miklan back and give him another chance).

If the king sought to change things and was taking active action to prove it, that was something Miklan could see and realize was actually going to happen. It wasn't a blind trust - he could see Dimitri was actually doing it. He had a reason to be able to trust him with this.

He was also able to trust the people who were watching over him, i.e. the people Dimitri had making sure he didn't revert back to any sort of banditry. Those people could have easily faked it, made up that he did something and that they had killed him on the spot. Dimitri trusted those people not to do that of course, but those people were not told to bring him to Dimitri if he did anything. They were told to apprehend him and kill him immediately (which is reasonable, given what he'd done in the past, and they wouldn't want to try to wait to get Dimitri over to wherever they were. If Miklan escaped in that time, they'd just have a big problem on their hands).

So that is to say, those people could've just faked it at any point and killed him. They didn't. They, like Dimitri, were willing to give him another chance provided he didn't do anything bad.

The same goes for Felix and everyone else who had qualms about him being allowed into their army. Dimitri explicitly stated if anyone had issues with his appointment as a commander to "by all means" kill him themselves. He literally made it an open option for his friends to just up and kill him if they truly couldn't forgive him (which at that point was more reasonable of a time because the war was still new and people didn't know if they could trust him with this specific appointment yet. By later in the story I don't think it would have been as reasonable for someone to try to kill him after he'd already been proving himself).

In other words, nobody did it. Everyone, literally everyone, backed off and respected Dimitri's decision (and technically Sylvain and Matthias' as well). None of those people, even when given open opportunity, turned a weapon on him. Not one. These people all gave him a chance. These are the same people he died fighting for, and for himself to be able to feel like he was fighting and dying for what he would have to begin with if he hadn't been disinherited - Faerghus and its people.

In the end Miklan was in both rank and heart a top ranking commander of Faerghus and he both appreciated it and knew he appreciated it. He was looking forward to the future Dimitri would bring, basically saying that he thinks Dimitri is a fool ("weak-willed") for it but that he now believes in it too. If anyone wants to try arguing those points, I have receipts as the young folk call them, fresh from Miklan himself about his feelings about it as spoken to Catherine and Shamir!

Miklan fought for the future he was hoping to see, and he died protecting that future. Again, not something he by any means whatsoever had to do. He was tasked with guarding the fortress, but was never told to lay down his life defending it. After years and years of being hateful and angry, he finally had some peace of mind and hope for what he could be. He was loyal to Dimitri in the end because Dimitri was loyal to him - that is, he kept his word and Miklan was able to thrive in Dimitri's society without being a bandit or having to worry about his future because of his status.

Like Dimitri said, the only thing holding him down by that point were his past mistakes. It was up to Miklan to do something about that for himself with the opportunity he was given to fix it. Dimitri said here, fix it, and Miklan said okay, and worked to fix it. For me the saddest part is that he didn't even get enough time to properly fix it and be able to be free of his past. He died for Faerghus though, with his dying words being that he was able to buy them time (to arrive and fight back against the attacking Empire). That's not something someone who holds a resentful grudge would say in their last moments. He was grateful he managed to buy the other fighters time, even though it cost him his life.

hopes was a dumpster fire a whole lot of times but its incorporation of miklan into the plot was not one of them. miklan fire emblem my love you will live on in my heart and in my fics. i am also deeply grateful to hopes for uh i guess hopes-canonizing (hopesonizing???) basically every one of my headcanons about him before the game came out.

[389]

V/H/S (2012)

David Bruckner Ti West Glenn McQuaid Joe Swanberg Radio Silence (Matt Bettinelli-Olpin, Tyler Gillett, Justin Martinez, and Chad Villella) Adam Wingard

[aanteater-nose]

I’ve never seen this before???