#olivia's at the bottom of the barrel now

[purpledemonlilyposting]

Now scraping at the bottom of the barrel for shit to fling at me Lily is going after my small connection to I Wani Hug That Gator. A silly and charming indie visual novel I streamed because a long time follower bought it for me. Chat and I ended up having a blast with it.

I did silly voices and everything! Which brings us to...

Boohoo the dev started out as a troll for a really bad game made by a bunch of self important weirdos with government grants that deserved to be made fun of. And now Cavemanon made their own completely original game and that's I Wani Hug That Gator.

Do you know WHY people ask me to live dub Wani comics on my streams? Because I'm considered the "official" Olivia voice by much of the fandom. So I'm happy to do the voice for people's fan works when asked. Because it's FUN, Lily. You know fun?

Maybe this is anon and/or Lily's real problem with it...

Someone even started animating one of my Shorts from the streams.

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 5

Wordcount: 9,662

You and Randy sat at the police station at a table. You just sat there playing on your phone to distract yourself while Randy leaned back in his chair staring at the ceiling. All of you barely slept at all last night for obvious reasons and this was just the cherry on top at this point.

Dewey finally came in; just him as he ushered Deputy Hicks to sit this one out and keep watch of the door.

He inhaled deeply with a disgruntled look your way then towards Randy as Randy returned it with an annoyed look of his own.

"...Okay. For starters, Mindy and Chad never arrived at school today and Karla is not at her job even though it's past 9 o'clock...So, Randy. Is she missing? Are they the latest victims? Or did you do what I specifically told you not to and lied to me?"

Randy shrugged. "Well...I forgot to mention Karla might have had a very intimate party to go to for one of her family members in North Carolina. Sister Veronica's birthday, really kind of a bitch, but hey she's family-"

"Are you pulling my leg right now?" Dewey half sighed and half groaned in agitation and interrupted him. "Randy...Do you realize how serious of a crime this is? I'll have to issue a warrant for her arrest now, do you realize that?"

"WHAT?!" Randy snapped, smacking the table as you jumped from the sound. All before you put your phone down and gave an shocked look Dewey's way.

"Dewey! Why would you even think of doing that?!" You exclaimed.

"BECAUSE YN, it's the law!" He argued. He jerked at his shirt and pointed at his Sheriff Badge, voice cracking as he tried to yell. "Is this thing just a DEcOration to you people?!" He frowned deeply and continued. "She could be the killer OR she could be an accomplice."

Randy scoffed loudly. "God, Dewey, she's got our kids with her just going to get out of town while this is all happening!"

"So, you did lie!"

"Yes, I figured me and YN fleeing town without my kids and wife in the car was pretty obvious they were not at school." He gave with a sarcastic tone while slowly blinking at Dewey.

Dewey rolled his teeth over his bottom lip, anxiously looking between you both before just saying it. "Randy, you've got to tell me where she's at."

"Over my dead body."

Dewey tilted his head with an urgent look. "If you don't tell me, it might be...Because if she's the killer working with someone other than you; we all could be in trouble and YOU helped her get away!"

Randy had an annoyed look towards Dewey. "My wife is on the bottom of the barrel as a suspect."

"The rules, Randy!"

"I'm very aware of the fucking rules, Dewey! I'm the biggest advocate of the rules! Everyone is a suspect but there's a formula to it; you always have people at the top of the list and people at the bottom you can deduct from it..." He sighed, slapped his hand on his thigh and leaned back in his chair with a bitter tone. "Okay, what's the motive? Unhappy housewife with a loser husband is fed up and wants more. She hates this town that her man dragged her to. She regrets the domestic life instead of a life of luxury she always wanted but can't have because the dead weight is dragging her down...Maybe she had an affair with a psycho and now she's changing her life altogether? " You frowned at him as he said it and so did Dewey. He raised his brows and continued. "Is that it? Because if that was her motive then why would she go after teenagers instead of her husband? Hm?" Dewey almost said something but Randy interrupted him yet again. "I already know what's going to come out of your mouth. Okay, maybe you could use cop logic to reason about Jenny's murder because IF Karla was the killer; maybe she thought I was like Jerry Seinfeld or some shit having an affair with a 17 year old? Okay, that's the creepiest shit ever but let's just go with it to get this outta your system. But tell me this; what about Marnie? What about Olivia? What about Rebecca?"

Dewey cringed and softly replied. "Well, I know it's a stretch but...All the victims are women...It's just odd..."

Randy rolled his eyes. "Okay, let's just say the motive is a jealous possessive wife that's had enough and gone a little coo coo. When? Rebecca was killed when Karla was with us the entire time. Olivia was killed when Karla was sleeping in bed with me and our kids. Jenny and Marnie were killed when...Let's just say she was with me the entire night."

Dewey raised a brow at that and you stretched your stiff neck to the side from sleeping on the couch. Falling down stairs couldn't have helped. Releasing a huff as it cracked before addressing Dewey. "Okay, there. If you don't believe Randy, believe me Dewey. Karla was with me or Randy all night last night. She could not have snuck out and killed Rebecca or Olivia! Besides, I'm the one that fought this killer, alright?...This was not Karla that wore that costume."

"Karla works out regularly, YN. She takes kickboxing classes in town and she's 5'7. So, maybe it could have been?" Dewey gave.

You sighed and ran a hand over your tired face as you drew out. "...Dewey, I see where you're going so let's just say Karla could hurl me...How could she get there undetected?"

Randy added. "Exactly. She still couldn't have been in the house so quickly, sound asleep, no costume, no blood, no sweat. Nothing by time I got back!"

"Partners, Randy!"

He let out a tiny infuriated growl and pretended to claw at his face before yelling at Dewey. "OH MY FUCKING GOD- Even if that's true then you would have to lock down the entire town, Dew!" He sat his chair back down and gave you both a serious look. "Listen, we are dealing with a fran-"

He was interrupted by Gale coming through the door with Judy trying to get her by the shoulders. "Stop fighting me, Gale! I'm an officer of the law!" Both women yelled as Gale shoved her away and retorted. "Yeah, well I'm the Sheriff's wife. That overrules you." Judy tried grabbing her again and Gale readied a hand as Judy exclaimed. "It. Does. Not!"

Dewey stood up and broke it up. "Ladies, stop!...Gale."

She threw a finger up with a thin frown. "You lecture me one more time, Dewey Riley."

He shook his head and mumbled to Judy. "...Please, Officer Hicks. Let me speak to my wife in private."

Judy gave a nasty look her way as Gale shut the door on her.

"I've told you how many times you can't do this, Gale!"

"Dewey, we need to talk about Rebecca."

"NO. You are a citizen. I am the Sheriff. What part of this do you not understand?"

Randy side eyed you and muttered. "He says that one more time, I swear to God." As you nodded in agreement.

Gale huffed with anger on her face. "FINE! But I have proof Randy, YN and Karla are not involved." She said it right when Dewey put a hand on her back to usher her out.

You and Randy instantly perked up, yelling at Dewey in unison. "No, no, no! Let her talk!" Randy added. "Godsakes; let the woman speak, Dewey!"

Gale jerked herself away from Dewey with a haughty look and looked between all of you. "Okay, Rebecca was found on top of a news van when Sheriff Dewey here was taking questions at the Hospital."

You faltered. "Excuse me, did you say...On top?"

"On top of it. Just like I found my cameraman Kenny before I wrecked the van. Her throat slit and...Thrown from the hospital building's parking garage...Knowing the little money hungry harpy she was probably looking at Jill to be her next big project."

Dewey shook his head. "But how does that disprove YN and Randy?"

"Because Dewey, if your officers are doing their jobs, they couldn't have left the house in time to kill her undetected. Besides that...Rebecca lost a lot of blood. Her corpse had been dead for at least 30 minutes before she was thrown off the fucking building."

Dewey looked confused and Gale snapped her fingers. "Keep up, sweetheart. Don't you get it? Rebecca was at the hospital while we were just leaving Randy's house...How the hell could any of them get there on time to kill her and then wait till you started your press conference to throw the body onto the van?!"

Randy smiled with wide eyes and you looked optimistic as well.

Gale continued. "Dewey, you keep hounding people that aren't involved here! We need to figure out who doesn't have solid alibi from last night at about 1 in the morning when Rebecca was killed. Randy, YN, Karla, You and Me all have alibis."

He thought for a moment with a disgruntled look.

"THE HOUSE, Dewey. We all were at the house talking at the time Rebecca was supposedly arriving at the hospital. When me and you left and got probably a few blocks up the road is when she was most likely killed. It's impossible for it to be any of us!"

"Yeah, that's true...Good thinking." Dewey told her with a slight smile.

Gale sighed but gave a slight tight smile his way. "Hey, it's what I do."

"But partners!" Dewey exclaimed.

You finally spoke up. "Listen, Dewey. Neil and Roman had NOTHING to do with each other and they were still the killers...And Angelina was partners with Roman but that's besides the point. And we could see Stu and Billy being friends but who would have ever thought of Nancy Loomis recruiting Mickey and Hallie together?"

Dewey pointed while forcing it out like he was leery of even bringing it up. "A-And those two guys we never caught but you and Detective Andrews and Detective Richards reported...Right?"

You blinked but nodded. "Right..."

Randy shrugged and chimed in. "So we can do the partners thing all day, but for now, I say we treat this like top 3 to 5 suspects on the list or something of that sort and assume they're separate till proven otherwise. "

You frowned and mumbled. "And the killer isn't done. Not by a long shot. They're saving us 4 for last...They pretty much told me themselves. " You spared a wary glance towards Randy and then back to Dewey as Gale spoke.

Gale threw up a manicured hand. "Well there you have it. You aren't getting anywhere with everyone on lockdown because the killer wouldn't skip town anyways!" She threw you your purse that was sitting on the chair of the room. "Now, let's go. I need some coffee that doesn't taste like hillside runoff water like Perkin's keeps offering me."

You and Randy instantly stood up and Dewey waved his arms. "Hey! You guys are not dismissed-"

She adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. "Like YN said, the killer is not skipping town. Not a single killer has ever skipped town and the evidence shows Karla isn't involved. You have no reason to go after Karla or to keep these two here as long as they don't skip town again either...Material witnesses, after all."

You and Randy nodded even if that was definitely the plan if things got too bad.

Dewey hissed out urgently to his wife. "Gale, just because you're married to the Sheriff-"

She gave him a look. "Dewey, you know I love you but you can shove that badge-" She quickly pointed upward to the sky as Dewey huffed with an offended look. Gale continued. "Tell Randy to take up the traffic violation in court or pay or whatever AFTER we get this killer...Now, are you done trying to mother hen all of us or what?"

He frowned. "Gale, where are you even going? You can't do this alone-"

"WATCH ME. I told you, I'm going rogue. I just needed to bust these guys out...Now let's go get some fucking decent caffeine. " Gale motioned for you and Randy to follow.

"But!...You can't!....We have Folgers, by the way! It's good coffee!" Dewey yelled at his wife as you all walked past Judy and out the door. You could hear Judy yelling after you all and then Dewey talking to her to stand down as you and Randy followed Gale.

'Damn, am I glad she's on my side for once.'

-------------------

Randy sipped an ice coffee as Gale had a simple hot black cup and you had your choice. All of you sat at an outdoor table as you tried being in between both Randy and Gale for your own comfort...You were definitely aware of the dirty looks sent your way or nasty whispers.

Randy smacked his lips off his straw before telling you both. "Okay, so like I was trying to say before Sheriff douchb-"

"Watch it." Gale pointed with a scolding stare.

"- Sheriff Dewey tried arguing his reason for keeping us on lockdown...And you catfighting with Deputy Hicks..." He looked between you both for dramatic effect. "My friends, we are dealing with a bonafide franchise."

You shrugged with a disgruntled face. "Okay??"

"OkAy." He mocked your voice. "YN, a franchise is without a doubt the worst of them all."

Gale rolled her eyes. "You literally said this about a Trilogy 10 years ago."

"Yeah, yeah! I did! But it is worse than even a trilogy." He pointed with his drink in his hand. "Stab."

"...Stab?" You mumbled with a monotone voice.

"Stab! It got carried away, sure. They just keep making them and making them and honestly? They should have stopped after the shitty Sequel."

Gale sipped her coffee, a coy smirk over her cup as she muttered to you. "Someone's just mad they got killed in number 2."

You both snickered as Randy gave you both an annoyed look. "Yeah, number 2. Shit. The very embodiment of shit. Quite frankly, I'm glad I was spared being a walking slap stick for 5 more movies." He threw up a hand and leaned forward. "Regardless of the decline in Stab; Stab hit it HARD in 4. Knocked it out of the park! Why? Because they knew if they didn't they'd lose their target audience especially after the awful reviews on 3 with YN's character suddenly just leaving and the campy satire they tried to use throughout the whole thing. Technically 4 was a reboot but also not really because the other characters were still involved just as much as previous ones while passing the torch to the new final girl." Randy grinned. "I mean, the main girl's own sister being Ghostface?! And she got away with it and went on to college just to be attacked by the final girl we thought was dead but wasn't? It was genius! A killer versus a killer!....Oh...Were you planning on watching that? Sorry."

You shook your head as he rambled while sipping your drink. "Nah, you know I don't watch any of those."

Gale seemed to be losing her patience with Randy's rants. "Get to the point, would you please? What does Stab and Franchises have to do with any of this right now?"

He shrugged before sipping his straw. "I mean nothing other than...Oh yeah, everything!" He huffed out. "We have new rules to go by-"

"Just-" Gale held up a hand. "Who are our suspects, Randy?"

Randy seemed to frown at not getting to explain the rules. "Okay, fine. Let's just butcher the rules. Got it." He leaned forward to talk low. "This killer is killing people exactly like the first time we did this dance, just not in order. You cannot deny it after they went through the trouble of avoiding YN and shoving Olivia through a doggy door when she was already as good as dead."

You shook your head, being pulled back to the memory of last night. "It was so fast. I don't know how I missed them."

"Maybe there's more than one?" Gale darted her eyes between you both. "What if they're just copying Stab?"

Randy shrugged and looked away. "There were no new kills in Stab so Stab or our first encounter is all the same shtick."

You looked at Randy as he seemed to glance at his phone every so often. "Ray, who's our suspects so far?"

He glanced back up at you and sighed. "Uh well, we don't have much to go by. The legacy characters have alibis."

"Legacy character?" Gale muttured.

"Us. You know, the originals."

"Well talk in a non nerdy way we can all freaking understand, 'kay?" She mocked.

Randy gave her a sideways glare as you spoke. "So now we look at who knew Jenny and Marnie and Olivia."

"Rebecca?" Gale asked.

Randy gestured to you. "Only one that knew her was YN."

Gale slightly raised a brow. "Well, I did question how Rebecca supposedly only had the keys to the trunk...No one else even knew where the keys were but YN when we found the evidence...What do we go by with one dead and the other person sitting right here?"

Randy perked up, eyes wide as if he just knew the fight that was about to happen. You leaned back with an offended scowl her way. "What exactly are you saying? Because if you're suggesting I'm the killer again for the fourth time I will get up and walk away from this entire thing so fast and you can just figure this out by yourself."

Gale held up a hand. "Easy there, we just fucking said none of us are suspects, alright!? I know you got your triggers but settle it down. I'm SAYING how did the killer get in that trunk with a mob of protesters around and no keys?...Unless Rebecca was involved or they stole them somehow when she wasn't looking."

Your shoulders sagged as you nodded. "Yeah. That was my question too other than blending in with the crowd and like you said; stealing the keys somehow. Maybe she sat them down when she was getting rid of the crowd?...Sorry...Old habits die hard."

Gale sighed, rolled her eyes and crossed her finger over her chest. "Cross my heart, I'm not digging to frame you. You're not even a suspect because the timelines don't add up! However, it's obvious someone is trying to set you up-" She held up her finger. "And do not say it's me because we already got over this, remember?"

You sighed but nodded. "I know...But, I don't think they're setting me up."

Randy lifted a brow and spoke up. "Why not?"

"What they said...It was something about watching a star crash and burn...It was like a warning. And the kills...If they wanted to frame me, why not try harder?...It wouldn't exactly be difficult." You mumbled, eyes glancing at a few older women glaring at you and whispering a table away.

Gale looked behind her at them. "Hey, Golden Girls. It's rude to stare, especially at your big age."

They scoffed at Gale and looked away right when a phone ran. Randy jumped up, his entire mood changing as he said out loud. "It's Karla!" He didn't hesitate to answer it. You and Gale listened as you watched the most relieved smile cross Randy's face as he covered the phone and whispered. "They made it. The kids are eating pancakes right now with her Dad."

You smiled at that as he excused himself to talk to her in private, leaving you alone with Gale. You both awkwardly sat there before you slightly licked your lips and forced yourself to talk to her. "Gale? Thanks."

Gale smiled slightly. "What? For scolding those old bitty's? I do that for fun on the regular. No big deal."

You chuckled slightly. "Yeah well, thanks anyways. I know we have a very...Unique past and a barely existent friendship. You know with your 'no friends allowed' policy is still in place but...I'm glad we're on the same page now. Just took 15 years."

She smiled and softly told you. "Yeah, I guess so. You were the biggest pain in my ass."

"You were a major asshole."

"Still am." She mused while sipping the last of her coffee. She looked at you, seeming to take you in. "Hey." She got your attention, her gaze serious. "While the giant film dork is gone and it's just us; Fuck them. Fuck all of them. People are always bitter or jealous of anyone reaching their prime. Take it from me personally; enemies are everywhere the second your name is in lights. Be grateful for those on your side but trust no one fully. The shit that people do for fame is insane...You're a successful woman and you're going to have an even bigger target on your back because of it."

You took her in as well, noting the way her eyes had very subtle fine lines now and her cheekbones more prominent from the hollows of her cheeks deepening ever so slightly with her age now being 47.

"Gale...Do you miss it?"

Gale frowned before covering it with her hand and looking away in her chair towards the street. "No. If I missed it, I'd be doing something about it...Look, I'm only investigating because it's happening to us again. That's it."

You were skeptical of that but saw her phone ping. She went to ignore it but kept flipping it over, her face souring as she sighed heavily. "Christ, it's Dewey. I gotta take this. Can you give me a second?"

You hesitated, leery of being left alone but also reasoning it was in broad daylight in front of an entire shop full of people. "...Sure."

Gale nodded and had her phone in her hand, ringing up her husband no doubt to argue.

'God, 9 years of marriage and that's all they do.' You thought. 'Wonder if this will be the nail in the coffin this time?' You wondered as you thought of Dewey and how different he was. 'I can't even blame Gale this time. He's...Changed.'

Your mind momentarily thought back to past Dewey. The one and only time you ever heard or saw him sob was when he was just your best friend's older brother you saw occasionally. And yet, there you both were. Holding each other sobbing over that previous night and who you lost.

His voice trembled, his chest rumbled against you as he spoke. "It's all my fault. If I wouldn't have left with Gale...I could have saved my baby sister..."

You frowned thinking of what he said at Windsor after 2 years of not seeing him.

"It's okay. I'm here now. You think I'm ever going to let anything happen to you or Randy? I swore I'd never let anything happen to you kids ever again. No one is getting hurt as long as I'm here." He gave, eyebrows turned up and regret in his eyes.

Then you remembered the look on his face as he saw Olivia's body. It was watching his little sister's mangled corpse stuck in that garage door all over again.

"...Poor Dewey." You sighed softly under your breath. You thought the rest of your sentence in your head. 'He just wants to have a redo. To protect us and these kids like he couldn't protect Tatum.'

Your mind wandered to what she might have looked like had she lived. Would her and Sidney still be besties after all these years? Would you be friends with either of them for that matter? Who would Dewey be if Tatum had lived?...Would you and Randy and Dewey even talk if she did-

Your thoughts were interrupted as a server handed you a piece of paper and mumbled. "Miss? Someone asked me to give this to you."

The young server walked away before you could ask him who. You stared at it in your hand, eyes darting to people ignoring you or giving you stares. You couldn't see who was inside with the sun reflecting on the glass. You swallowed, literally terrified of what it said but eager to just open it and see. You sucked in a shaky breath, quickly unfolding it to read.

"Arrive at the Inn on the outskirts of town tonight at room 7. Go alone...Be there after 8 tonight...P.S....Don't alert the cops if you cherish any of your friends lives or your own."

You felt anxiety building just reading it. You couldn't recognize the handwriting as far as you could tell. You knew it was a trap, and yet, you also knew they weren't playing around either. If you told Dewey; 15 years ago would happen all over again. You just knew it. If you told Gale; she was going to do anything to be the one to solve the case. If you told or took Randy; he could die....You quickly put the note away in your pocket as you saw Randy coming back. You knew it was a death wish but if you could end this shit before it got worse; you would. They clearly wanted you more than anyone.

"Karla made it. She's not happy about us not being able to join but I swore to her if it got too bad; we'd be out of this place...Where's Gale?"

You forced a small smile. "Arguing with Dewey over the phone, I'm guessing."

Randy rolled his head with a tsk. "Ah geez. They've been doing a lot of that lately."

"How much lately? I've been out of the loop the last few years..."

Randy shrugged. "Eh, not really. It's just the same old same old. Gale wants fame, Dewey wants to live a humble life in Woodsboro. Same shit years ago."

"Yeah, I'm sure being stuck here is getting to her."

"Yeah..." He seemed in a much cheerier mood as he smiled and asked. "So, what did I miss?"

"Uh...Nothing really."

He raised a brow. "You sure?"

You sipped your mostly empty drink on purpose. "Mm hm." Before giving a scoff of a chuckle and telling him. "Just girl talk with Gale."

"Oh...So, she told you her secret skincare routine is to reap the souls of unsuspecting victims or??"

Gale cleared her throat next to the table. Randy grinned. "Oh, hi Gale. How long were you there?"

"Long enough...Dipshit." She muttered under her breath then gestured to you both. "Alright, get the tab. I've got a new lead, I'll check back with both of you later. I gotta get there before my husband gets there and scares off the lead."

"We'll come-"

"Not yet! I work alone, you know this."

With that, she turns on her heels as you and Randy call out to her before giving each other dumbfounded looks.

"Can you believe the audacity of that woman? Well...Since we're apparently just back up for Dewey and Gale when they bite off more than they can chew and we have nothing else better to do in the meantime; wanna go to some of our old haunts together?"

You smiled with a surprised look. "I'd like that but what about your stores?"

"Bookstore is closed on account of yesterday. You would think the video store would be booming like it was in 96 this time around but noooooooo. Everyone must be streaming or something...It's pretty dead. Better business being dead than us, I guess." He gave with a shrug. Shoving his hands in his pockets after standing up.

-------------------

You and Randy drove around as he pointed out old houses and names. Some were familiar and some weren't...It honestly made you feel so out of sync with the happenings here and the people. People you saw in the halls or some mowing their lawns now were distant memories.

"Oh, remember that one snobby bottle blonde that totally hated you for dating James and I'm pretty sure she wanted to bang Billy Loomis too so she hated Sid just as much?"

"We're in Cali, there are tons of bleached blondes."

"No, no. The cheerleader! Remember she tried calling you ugly and Sidney a slut? Remember her calling Tatum a lard ass and Dewey had to warn Tatum not to beat her up after school?" Randy had a devious grin as he sang out. "Guess what she looks like now.~"

You instantly knew who he was talking about. Perking up and uttering. "No."

"Uh huh. Prepare yourself." He gestured to a small shabby house where a blonde woman with outgrown brown roots half way down her brassy hair stood. She had on a dingy coral pink robe while watering her flowers out front. She gave you both dirty looks with a face that seemed a lot older than just early 30s as she jerked the hose over a bunch of toys littering the yard.

"NO!" You mouthed out, trying not to turn in your seat. "That's her?!"

"Yep." Randy smirked while driving. "Hey, I'm not exactly as fit as I was 10 years ago and I'm not exactly living the high life either but there is something so damn special about an asshole getting their karma. Remember she told Sidney she'd probably end up in the nuthouse or a two timing tramp like her mother? Yeah. Can't say I feel bad...Karla heard her arguing with her husband in the bank drive thru about her being accused of their one son being...Get this; his brothers."

"Oh shit." You mumbled.

"I know! I don't know why people forget drive thrus have cameras, especially banks, but thank god they do. You wouldn't believe the stories Karla tells me!" He chuckled before releasing a sigh with a content smile. "Oh how the popular jerks in High School fall."

You huffed, still taken aback that it was her...Still, you didn't feel nearly as satisfied as you should. The note was the only thing really forming your interest at the moment.

"...Something on your mind?" Randy asked. "I mean, you barely reacted when I showed you that our old jerk off Quarterback that got busted for putting pills in girls drinks is balding now and is married to the same bitchy cheerleader I just showed you or when I told you Mrs. Burkhardt still has an army of plastic flamingos in her yard. " He huffed. "You didn't even seem interested when I showed you that the creepy guy from Shop has a successful wood art business and looks like freaking Ashton Kutcher now that the braces are off and his skin cleared up!...He's single, by the way. Just putting it out there."

You side eyed him. "Thanks for being Toby Fairley's wingman but I'm not exactly interested at the moment with a crazy killer after us again."

"See? You even remember his name!"

"Ray." You scolded.

He sighed with a frown as he got to a stop sign. "Yeah fine, guess that's reasonable...So...I can make a left or right."

You saw the sign and instantly recognized it. "Oh my God..." You pointed. "Left."

"...You know that takes us past Billy's house, right?"

"I'm aware."

Randy seemed resistant but sighed and put on his blinker. Silently driving as you looked around. The drive reminded you so many times of being with Tatum driving you and Sidney to spy or see her boyfriend that spring and half the summer before you got with James....You remembered his very nice car outfront and his even nicer house. No decorations, Hank never really home, no siblings as far as you knew...You never went inside. Billy always seemed eager to get out of the house. With his Mom gone and how his relationship or lack of seemed with his Dad; you now knew why.

You froze seeing it...Empty. Graffiti all over it, broken windows, and the place falling in. Randy parked the car as you stared at it. He leaned over, his arm on your seat as he stared at the house. "Feels like every haunted house in any horror movie ever made...After they found Hank Loomis stabbed 50 something times inside; the place just rotted away."

"Wow..." You softly gave. "That's...Just so much pain in one home."

"Yeah well, that's what happens when crazies live there." He sighed out while putting the car into drive but you quickly stopped him.

...You never saw inside. Ever. You knew it was dumb but something was just pulling you towards it. Maybe to see if there was a connection to these murders happening? It felt unlike you but...You needed to know before you possibly died...Besides, this new killer was clearly another nut idolizing Billy and Stu.

"No, wait. I want to go inside."

"What? YN, we aren't teens anymore. Dewey will kill you before the killer can if you break and enter. Hell, the house might! You see how bad of condition it's in?! It's a freaking zoning violation and the city council has been trying to tear it down for years. You could fall through the floor and break your neck!"

"It was built in 1980's not 1880's; and people lived in it clear up until a little over 10 years ago. I'm sure it's walkable." You glanced over at him, already unbuckling as he furiously shook his head. "Wow, I didn't know we became old all the sudden. Turn your helicopter Dad mode off and help me check out an ex murderers house. I mean, WE KNEW the ex murderers...Unless you're a big chicken now..." You started bawcking.

He groaned and got out. "Childish tactics don't work anymore, YN." You continued mocking him, flapping your arms while walking as he gave you a huff. "They don't! I'm a grown man!"

You were on the porch and pushed the door in, giving him a disbelieving look as you drew your gun and crept in. Randy gave you the most frustrated sco and followed. "This is breaking every fucking rule ever!...YN?...YN!" He lectured as he followed you into the dark house. Daylight through the windows is the only thing lighting the place.

Randy looked around, shrinking a bit as he called out. "YN?...Hey, where are you?...If you aren't dead, say something."

Silence before you waited and just said 'boo.' behind him. Just simply surprising him had him jerking back and metaphorically jumping out of his skin before he glared at you. "Are you serious?!"

"Making sure you're prepared for the actual killers." You put your gun back in your holster under your jacket and looked around at the decrepit house you knew was once gorgeous with Hank being a lawyer and his salary.

"Wow...This is crazy."

Randy shrugged with a shiver. "Yeah, I was only in here a few times but......Oh..." He pointed to a dark spot on the floor in the living room. The wood was stained. "Uh...That's where Hank died."

"Oh god." You grimaced, stepping back instinctively. You both jumped as a rat scurried across the floor.

Randy got behind you, hands on your shoulders as he urged you. "YN, come on! Let's go! I just know some freaky shit has happened here and I'm not bringing home a Loomis Ghost from kids doing a failed seance. I didn't like him alive let alone being from Poltergeist. "

You almost agreed, curiosity not that interesting anymore now that you saw the inside. Rotting, vandalized, a shell of what it used to be. It was as eery as it got...But one thing just kept you wanting to stay. "I gotta see Billy's room."

"What?! Who fucking cares?!"

"I do...It could give us a clue. I mean, if they're copying the old murderers; how do we know they haven't been in here as well?"

"More reason to leave."

"Ray, I can't run away from it forever! I can't run from my thoughts or that night anymore...I gotta know and try to use it to solve this new killer before more people get hurt." He gave you a confused look as you told him. "Ray...I know it was an act and everything and I know you disliked him even before he was a known killer but...He was my friend at one point and he was also the guy that tried looping me into a murder plot and then tried to kill me for betraying him... This place won't be here long and I just gotta see where he lived and if there's anything useful to us now."

Randy gave you a strange look before whining and stomping his foot with dread as you continued up the steps. "Shit."

You softly let your feet walk up the stairs, leery of the floorboards that haven't been maintained in over 12 or more years since Hank died and Billy 'died'. You had your gun ready, just in case you came across a Ghostface or something. Using it to nudge the doors open. The first room was bare, graffiti here and there but nothing too surprising. The next bedroom you shoved the door open, leveling your gun in multiple directions including behind the door and then the closet. You relaxed and motioned for Randy as you put your gun back once more...Marveling at the room around you.

"Oh my God..." You mumbled under your breath. Graffiti of devils, pentagrams, tags, and telling Billy Loomis to rot in hell or that he ruled all over the walls of the faded blue room. The bed was white with stains all over it from the elements and age...At least, you hoped that's what it was.

"Uh uh, I don't like that. I do not like that shit. Nothing about this room says 'home sweet home'." Randy covered his mouth. "Fucking bacteria and mold and dust everywhere. You know I have a touch of asthma, right?"

"Then huff your inhaler or go outside, Ray...I'm looking." You saw posters had been on the walls, some stolen and ripped off. A few left behind. All movies or grunge rock of the 90s. His drawers were open and bare or had a few items of clothes inside. You saw a baseball on the dresser along with a few dusty cds and a few magazines from 1996. "Jesus, it's like a time capsule." You drew out in amazement...Somehow, you could imagine what it looked like when you huys were kids. You could imagine the sun peaking in as Billy and you sat on the bed talking...You didn't know how to feel about that.

Randy coughed as dust flew off a magazine he picked up. After he got done coughing, he wiped it off and smirked. "Well, look here. It's Cindy! Long time no see, Miss Crawford." He showed you a very sensual picture of a 20 something year old Cindy Crawford. He talked to the magazine. "Look, Cindy. You're a nice girl. You got me through a lot of rough times and lonely nights as a 17 year old virgin but I'm afraid I found another woman. One that's off the pages...Oh god, are these pages sticking because of erosion or-"

"Randy, knock it off and help me look." You opened drawers to his dresser. Randy put the magazine back down on the nightstand and walked over to look with you.

"What exactly are we looking for anyways?"

"I don't know. Evidence maybe? Just, see if we can find anything useful for the present murders."

Randy shrugged. "I don't know. Looks like a normal teens bedroom just with satanic symbols...Same thing, I guess. Kind of boring for a murderering sociopath...."

You lightly rolled your eyes as he rummaged through things in Billy's old nightstand. You opened the closet and looked at the clothes. They were actually in good condition...Your hand lightly went over a blue polo shirt as you remembered him wearing it as a teen. You frowned, your brows furrowing together as your fingertips felt the fabric. The memory of you and him being in his car late one night popped up. He had picked you up first then was making his way to pick up Stu, Sidney and Tatum. Randy was working and you remember feeling bummed out everyone would be too busy making out all night while you were the extra wheel in the back of the small car. James not in your life yet.

You sat in the front seat of his Camaro as you both sat in the drive and waited for Stu. Mostly silent and making small talk. He had his hair completely slicked back with gel and that polo shirt on. You could smell the cologne he wore. You saw Stu do a stupid dance move on his porch to annoy you both as Billy yelled out his car window "Hurry up, dickweed!" Stu went to walk and missed all of his steps...Literally face planted to the ground. You gasped and Billy just groaned softly. Stu gave a thumbs up before you could get out of the car and stood up before he released a string of curses....Dog shit smeared all over him where he fell. Stu looked disgusted, stripping off right there and yelling at how gross it was as you laughed...Billy laughed too. A genuine laugh as you and him just watched Stu run in the house to change. You and Billy laughed until you were wheezing. Billy hunched over his steering wheel silently laughing while you were dying in the passenger seat at the look on Stu's face. Billy made shit jokes about him all night as you tried to contain snickering knowing Stu could dish it out but sometimes couldn't handle being the ass of an unintentional joke.

You were brought back to the present with a deep hurt weighing on your chest. You almost wondered if that shirt smelled like him still, even faintly? If he remembered that memory as fondly as you did? If he was even alive...

"YN...Did you find something?" Randy asked.

You shook your head, shoving away from the closet. "No, just looking...It's so odd. I know Tatum's room is probably cleaned and pleasant memorylane but this feels...So empty. So...Strange."

"Yeah well, no one left to give a damn about a murderer."

"Yeah...You find anything?"

"Pft, no. He had the most basic elitist taste in horror movies. Seen them all, own them all."

"I meant a red flag or clue, Randy."

Randy shrugged. "Not really? Look, most things are destroyed or stolen or worthless. Let's just get out of here before someone finds us."

You nodded. The room was a normal teen room. Nothing out of the ordinary. You went to walk and tripped.

"Oh shit! Geez YN, you alright?" Randy helped you up as you cursed and kicked the rug away.

"Yeah. Stupid thing...Hey...What's that?"

You and him looked to a piece of wood unlike the others under that rug near the bed. You both exchanged wary looks before you reached over and plucked the stray plank from the floor...Revealing items stashed inside.

You reached in as well as Randy. Randy pulled out a bag of joints. "No way..." He put it in his pocket and you gave him a raised brow. "What?! I might need it after all of this!"

"Dewey will flip his shit if he finds joints in your pocket. Those are stale as fuck, I just know it...If you get mold in your lungs; don't say I didn't warn you."

"Okay, Grandma. I'll be a good responsible boy and make sure the weeds have a good home...My home." He shrugged with a laugh. "I may not have been a burn out but I remember what bad weed looked like. I'm looking before I roll it back up, honestly. "

You shook your head with a laugh and dug. Pulling out lighters...Then papers...Then a photo...And then a knife and gloves.

Randy cringed. "Now that seems more on point."

You handed him the gloves and knife before looking at the photo and your eyes widened considerably.

...It was you.

Randy's mouth hung open as well as he saw a 17 to 18 year old you. It was your yearbook photo of you smiling with a 90s hairstyle you loved to wear and a sweater.

"...What the fuck..." Randy breathlessly mumbled as you just stared...Why would he have a picture of you and only you? You flipped it over to see it was signed by you...Did you give him a photo? Why would you give your friend's boyfriend you barely knew at the time a picture of yourself?? Then you remembered...It was a gift to Sidney Prescott. Billy must have stole it.

You handed the photo to Randy who examined it as well as you tentatively opened the folded piece of paper...The more you read it...The more you felt your heart hammer and a queasy feeling in your stomach.

"What?...W-What does it say?" Randy asked before you handed it to him. He scrunched his brows, reading it outloud. "...I can't fight this anymore, not after fighting for our lives the way we did. Life is short...I know we went through so much but I have to tell you this-"

You spaced out, hearing it in Billy's voice instead of Randy's.

"I have to tell you this...I never thought we'd make it and I'm glad you lived. You're so lucky Mr. Prescott gave you such a shallow stab wound that night. We're lucky...Some of us weren't. I'm still trying to comprehend Randy and Tatum's deaths...Most of all, Sidney's...I miss her so much, YN. But I have to move on. We all do."

You clutched your mouth as it continued. Feeling like you might throw up.

"...That's why I have to tell you this. I don't know how you feel but I know how I feel about you. I know a love note is as corny as it gets but I can't seem to find the words to tell you this in person...The truth is, I care about you YN. I didn't know how much we needed each other until-"

Randy shoved the paper down in disgust. "I can't read this shit."

"Read it." You urged, feeling your eyes burn and your mouth dry.

Randy sighed heavily and picked it back up.

"I didn't know how much we needed each other until our lives depended on it. If this is too soon, I get it. But I really hope you consider giving me a chance. Sidney would want us both to move on and I know she'd be happy for us if we found each other. She'd want her best friend and her boyfriend to be happy...I know this is sudden but I think I'm falling for you and if you feel the same way, then meet me at the watertower this evening. If you don't then I guess I'll understand. I just know that I think about you a lot lately. Some of my best memories other than Sid were with you and I'd be an idiot to not tell you. You're the most unique, smart and honestly prettiest girl in Woodsboro now that Sidney's gone...Rest her soul and your poor boyfriend James but I can't wallow in misery anymore over what happened and neither should you. You deserve happiness YN and maybe that happiness can be with me? Don't be late for my sake....Billy."

Randy threw the paper to the side, utter disgust on his face as he growled out. "Bastard... This is some bullshit letter he was going to use if he got away with it. He was definitely going to kill you if you didn't show up...Low down fuckface." He glanced over at you and his features fell...You realized your cheeks were wet. "YN?...Hey. It's okay!" He softly gave, reaching over to put a hand on your shoulder.

You sucked in a shaky breath. "I-I...I didn't expect to find something like this..." You sniffed, staring at both the discarded picture and note on the floor. Randy frowned as he stared at you.

"...YN...I'm sorry you saw that but you know that it's all bullshit, right? He's a sick, demented fuck that looked at everyone as a pawn piece. I don't know what you're feeling but if it's guilt or sadness or something then shove that away. You don't owe him anything!"

"I know..." You closed your eyes and swallowed. "I know just...When he told me, I didn't believe him. I thought he was lying but...Why have a picture of me if he was? Why wrote those lies to get me out of every other girl in Woodsboro? He had so many after him, so why me?...I just...I just thought he was lying about jow he felt!"

Randy's brows rose. "What are you talking about?"

You sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling as you both were on your knees on the floor. "...Ray, he told me he was in love with me." Randy looked taken aback as you continued in a heavy voice. "... When him and Stu ambushed me at my house and blackmailed me like they did; he told me he loved me and that was the only reason I didn't die that night...He...H-He...." You choked out. "He kissed me in the closet after he killed Tatum that night. I didn't know! I was just trying to get Sid and Tatum and you out of there and then Stu had her get beers and you had no idea so you were drinking with friends and Sidney went with him as soon as I found Tat's body...He dragged me in and kissed me after murdering my best friend and before screwing over my other best friend-" You softly released a sob. "I never told anyone because of Gale's book and you hated me then so I was too scared! Even after we made up I was scared you'd use it as leverage to blame me again for Sid's death and-"

Randy frowned deeply and rubbed your shoulder before pulling you close to him for a hug. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt as he buried his face in your shoulder. His voice rising in disbelief.  "Shh...It's okay. I never hated you! You should know that by now. I was just a weak kid that needed to blame someone...But Billy and Stu were the only ones to blame; not you." He rubbed your back as he spoke. "I never hated you; I hate him. I hate everything about him for what he did to you, to me, to Sidney, to Tatum and Dewey. That letter and picture changes nothing, understand?" He pulled back to look you in the eyes, hands on either shoulder.

You shook your head. "But it does...I came here looking for answers to the current murders or to see Billy for what he was even more than I already did...And I get a fucking love note and a picture of me he kept hidden."

"That doesn't make him a decent guy, YN."

"I know that-"

He lightly shook you. "No, you don't! I know you, so stop trying to see the good in some misunderstood kid! It's not there. Okay, even if he did have a crush on you that doesn't make him good underneath it all or some shit! Not after what he did and God knows what he would have done to you too...I know you have a lot of confusing things that happened to you but Billy Loomis was a piece of shit. He's dead. It doesn't matter what he 'felt' because he was a monster and he burnt up in that house like the demon fucker he was. You'll never have to worry about him ever again...Never, YN...Let go of your guilt, okay? Please. Look around us; you hanging onto this guilt is like hanging onto this room...Look at it." He gestured to the graffiti, dust, cobwebs of the room for emphasis.

You frowned...Knowing better but nodding. You went to take the picture and Randy tried to stop you. You instantly glared at him. "Randy, you've said no one else went through what I went through and it couldn't be more true. I did go through confusing things and I want to keep this note and picture for my own sake no matter how much more confusing it is...I don't feel guilt for trying to save him just as well as trying to kill him...But I'm keeping this."

He stared but let go. Giving you a sad look as you wiped your eyes and stood up.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just get out of here before a neighbor calls Dewey on us." You roughly shoved the letter and picture in your pocket and took one last lokk at the room before walking out.

------------------

You both drove just a little longer, going past Sidney's house that had been remodeled slightly and sold years ago. You went past Dewey's parents home that stayed the same...Randy asked if you wanted to go in but you declined. Not only did it not feel right without Dewey to enter Tatum's space but you had enough sad memories for one day...James house was gone. You reasoned it was in bad shape anyways and the property value decreased with him being found in the field behind that house with no face. But the park, the water tower, the quarry all were the same and you could appreciate that.

It was insane that the towns you lived in before, the childhood home that you lived in longer, didn't impact you like this town did. Like this friend group did...Less than a year living there and it was still permanently seared into your brain.

You and Randy got take out to eat at home as you tried to enjoy your time with him...Knowing what you were about to do might be the last even if you were confident you knew what to do. You were actually grateful for the hug you got from Randy earlier.

You purposely went to the fridge and scoffed. "Oh shoot, we're out of drinks here."

"Oh, well I can go tomorrow."

You shook your head. "No, I'll go. I'll take Dewey's jeep."

"No, don't do that! How about I go? Buddy system?"

"Uh actually...Is it offensive to want a bit of alone time? I just feel like someone needs to guard the house, ya know?"

He blinked but shook his head. "No. No, not at all, especially after today and...What we found. Can you hold down the fort till I'm gone then? I swear, I'll make it quick."

You nodded even if you were internally screaming at yourself to reconsider. "Yeah, totally. Just be careful."

"I have police following us, I think I'll be alright. You need to just lock the doors, leave lights on, get your gun, don't answer-"

You laughed and handed him his jacket. "I know the rules, Randy. Go get us snacks and drinks for a movie night, alright?"

He threw his jacket on and got his keys. "Fine but I swear, I want you in one piece. Okay? I'm not saying...You know because...Well, you know."

"It's alright. Follow the rules; we'll be alright."

He nodded. Waiting till he left and then Perkin's car followed. You instantly got the keys to Dewey's jeep, locked the house up and quickly got in the car. You eased out and drove the opposite direction Randy went. Heading to that damn inn on the outskirts of town before another officer was sent by Perkin's to watch you while he followed Randy...It was a comfort Randy had cops following him.

You came up on it and turned the car off. Frowning deeply before a determined look crossed your features...Knife, gun, mace, taser...All of it ready in the comfiest clothes you brought with you. You got out of the jeep and went straight to room 7...You listened at the otherside of the door, hearing shuffling behind it.

It opened and a hand snaked out to pull you into the dark room. Out of instinct, you grabbed that arm and rushed forward to slam your elbow into their stomach as the momentum took you inside. You quickly twisted the arm back as far as you could, hearing someone gasp in pain and you jammed your gun right into the back of their head against the wall.

"Alright, who are you and what are you tring to pull?!"

"YN!" A voice snapped out as a light flicked on. Illuminating the once dark room.

Your eyes adjusted to see...A man was in your grasp. Another was standing up and you once again relied on your instincts and self defense training, jerking the man you had a hold of in front of you with your back to the wall. His arm being twisted painfully the only thing keeping him from decking you and overpowering you was you twisting his arm at the wrist as you kept your gun on his neck.

"Yo! Stand down, it's us!"

Your face fell at the familiar voice. You just heard it on the phone last night...You saw Stu standing, hands up with a cringe.

....

You quickly released who you now realized was Billy as he jerked away from you with a glare, rubbing his arm. "Damn, why does she need us for? Fuck-" He grumbled.

You stared, mouth parted as the two grown men looked at you. Two faces you actually didn't think you'd see again....So many questions demaning to be answered, so many emotions, so much shock...All you could utter was their names with your gun still aimed.

"....Billy?....Stu?"

[jackie-daniels]

basics

[olivia cooke, f, she/her] ever heard about [jacqueline "whiskey" daniels]? Out here on the road, they have a reputation of being [+courageous, +resourceful] but also [-standoffish, -untrustworthy], no wonder they’re called [the runaway]. According to local legend, they’re [nineteen] and when they pull up to camp not a soul can mistake the sound of [please please please let me get what i want by the smiths] following them. Some say they carry [a hand-me-down walkman, a tattered journal, and a rusty locket] and have been traveling with [the militants].

tldr biography (tw: child abuse)

on the road, whiskey is known as just whiskey. before that, she was jacqueline lucy daniels, named after her late father jack daniels and nicknamed “whiskey” after him as well. despite never having met her father due to his untimely death in vietnam, he’s the only man whiskey has truly ever loved. her mother, annie, married twice after jack. once to warren johnson, who gifted her with a second baby girl named montana, and then again to dale smith after warren passed in a mining accident. 

annie’s will to live was dependent on whether or not she had a man, so despite dale being the bottom of the barrel when it came to husbands—he was better than nothing. dale started abusing jackie when she was only ten years old. afraid of the consequences, jackie took every violation of her body in silence. she never told a soul...until she realized that her sister was being abused too. when she and montana came clean to their mama, she immediately left dale. but he cried and hurt himself and begged for her back until eventually, she gave in. and then things were okay for a bit...and then they’d get bad again. the cycle was never ending and annie did nothing to stop it. on the contrary, she blamed her girls for triggering dale to do what he did. 

montana ran away first when she was just fourteen. jackie followed suit shortly after at age seventeen. at first, she ran away with the intention of finding her sister...but when she realized how impossible that would be, her goal became to get as far away from home as possible. it was at this point that she became whiskey. she did unthinkable things to survive: sex for money, stealing, breaking and entering. you name it, she’s done it. the rules don’t really matter when you’re living on the outskirts of society, so whiskey doesn’t really care to abide by them. her future is uncertain...all she knows is that she’ll never go back to south carolina. the rest is up to god.   

full biography

jacqueline lucy daniels didn’t cry when she broke through her mama’s belly. everyone who had been in the room that day said she looked like a plum when the doctors finally pulled her out—a result of her umbilical cord being wrapped so tightly around her neck that it nearly killed her. in retrospect, jackie wondered if this was her body’s way of warning her or trying to spare her of what was to come. 

annie lee daniels brought her first daughter home without her husband at her side. he was in vietnam, fighting for his country like all the good men were back then. she’d prayed and prayed and prayed that whiskey (or jack daniels, if we’re talking legal names) would be home by october of ‘66...that by some miracle he’d be sent back in time to hear jackie’s eventual first cry. but no. so annie sent him letters and tried to fill him in on his little girl’s life as best she could, but the postman never brought her a response. it wasn’t long after jackie’s birth that her mama got the telegram. jack wouldn’t be coming home.

after losing the love of her life in another pointless war, annie was devastated and utterly lost. how was she supposed to raise a baby by herself? bitter and angry at the world, she helplessly packed up the house she shared with her now dead husband and moved back to greenville, south carolina, to the same house she’d been born and raised in. jackie’s grandma, aunts and uncles felt as much like her parents as her mother did, and back then? life wasn’t half bad...dead daddy aside. but then came warren. 

warren johnson was beautiful. everyone knew it—even jackie. he had hair as gold as the sun and eyes so blue and so kind they could make even the toughest men cry. it came as a surprise to no one that annie was smitten from day one. warren was a simple man. he was a miner and also a veteran who’d done a couple of tours in vietnam. most importantly, he was crazy about annie and jackie. he stepped into the role of ‘daddy’ faster than anyone else in the family could say ‘shotgun wedding.’ less than a year after they got together and married, warren and annie welcomed jackie’s baby sister, montana. at three years old, there was nothing jackie loved more than the gurgling baby girl her mother had brought home swaddled in a blanket. 

life wasn’t kind to annie lee daniels johnson, because just when things were getting good, tragedy struck. again. warren and the other men who worked in the coal mines had started talking about going on strike given the conditions they were forced to work in, but their bosses weren’t having it. and then one day, in the middle of summer, the worst case scenario became reality. jackie was too young to fully grasp what had happened, but she gathered that there had been some sort of accident at work. it had been bad. and now, daddy number two had joined daddy number one in heaven or wherever it was that dead people went. 

after warren, jackie watched as her mama became a complete shell of herself. one heartbreak was bad, but two? it was unsurvivable. as annie withered away, jackie got close to her aunt ruth, who helped her figure out how to take care of montana when mama wasn’t feeling up to getting out of bed. it was hard, but jackie did what she had to do. anything for her mama and anything for her sister. 

when dale smith came knocking on annie’s door, begging for a chance to take her out on one date, jackie was nearly ten years old. he wasn’t much compared to jackie’s daddy or to motana’s, but he got mama out of bed. that was something. one date turned to two and with a man at her side again, annie had a newfound reason to live. she married dale and finally moved out of her family home with her girls. they were going to be a proper family and it wasn’t long until annie was pregnant again, this time with a boy. 

the first time dale touched jackie was when annie was miscarrying in the backseat of his car on the way to the hospital. mama was nearly unconscious and jackie was in the front seat, in a state of complete shock, while dale reached over and did what most men did when no one could see them. after annie and dale lost their baby and the doctors told her she wouldn’t be able to have any more kids, things at home got bad. dale developed a drinking problem, which did nothing to help his anger issues or his inability to keep a job. the more dale drank and the harder it was for him to find work, the more he abused jackie. and it wasn’t just sexual, it was physical too. jackie never told a soul about what dale was doing to her. teachers and family questioned her about the bruises and broken bones, but she always lied. it wasn’t until the bruises started popping up on montana that jackie came clean and told annie. annie immediately left dale, but he found a way to weasel his way back into her arms. and then things would be good for a bit...and then they’d get bad again.

the cycle continued until jackie got to high school. once she was fifteen and started looking more like a woman than a child, her mom turned on her. suddenly she was a whore and it was her fault that dale did what he did. when montana got to high school, she got the same treatment. between the two of them, montana had always been braver. smarter. where jackie still had some hope that things would get better and that they could be normal, montana knew that the only way out of this fucked up situation was to take off. so that’s exactly what she did. jackie was 17 when she woke up and her sister had skipped town. she’d left behind her locket and a note that said you’re the only thing left for me here, but i can’t do this anymore. i love you. xx m. jackie never told her mama about the locket or the note. she let annie go on assuming the worst.

after montana ran away, everything got worse. annie became obsessed with finding her youngest, which meant she was neglecting dale, which meant he was fixated on jackie. given her age, jackie had started working at a local diner to start saving up her own money. it was her get the hell out of south carolina fund and it was her north start. jackie stored all of her cash in a shoebox under her bed, but one day when she got home late at night, a couple of months after montana had snuck out in the dead of night, she found the box empty. she knew immediately that dale had taken it, of course he had. after a disappointing confrontation with her mother about everything that had happened to her and to her sister since dale had walked into their lives, jackie decided she was done too. annie would never leave dale and dale would never stop. so, with nothing but the work uniform on her back and the locket and note her sister had left behind, jackie walked out the door to the nearest highway and stuck her thumb out. anywhere was better than here. 

life on the road was lonely and scary for a while. but things got easier once she succumbed to her bad luck. she started doing unspeakable things for money like stealing and sleeping with men who offered to pay her. eventually any trace of jacqueline lucy daniels was gone. a few months of doing what she had to do to survive and she was no longer the meek, innocent girl who still believed she’d find her sister somewhere out there. now she was whiskey, like her father. cold, strong, esoteric and independent. she knew the rules of the road and how to stay alive on the streets. 

now it’s been two years since she last walked out her mama’s door. she still wears montana’s locket, now rusted, but the note is long gone. she stole a walk-man from a fifty-something she slept with somewhere in arkansas and her crappy knapsack holds her journal, her most prized possession, but is otherwise stuffed with crappy hand-me-down clothes and mixtapes containing morrisey’s croons and janis joplin’s belts. she’s not scared of dying anymore. all she knows is that she’ll never go back to south carolina. the rest is up to god.   

stats

Athletics: 0

Burglary: 3

Contacts: -2

Crafts (Sewing, mending, basket making, weaving, etc. etc.): 2

Deceive: 3

Drive (like, actual driving ability): -3

Empathy: -2

Fight: 2

Investigate: 2

Lore (Kinda like knowledge): 1

Navigation: 0

Notice: 3

Physique: 2

Provoke: 0

Rapport: -1

Resourcefulness: 3

Stealth: 3

Will: 2

extras

playlist - pinterest  

[chaoticfoxes]

The whole scouting other teams aside, Claudia always trusted Olivia. She understands now why that happened now too, so she doesn't consider it a blip on their friendship or anything. That wouldn't be fair of her. Olivia's a hard worker and gets what it takes to be a woman playing a male-dominated sport. There's also more to her than just Exy, even if that's the only thing on Claudia's mind most of the time.

Claudia basically made Exy her entire personality when she discovered she's Claudia. Now that she's the Captain, it's only encouraged her tunnel vision more. She spends her classes jotting down notes for practice instead of listening, her dreams are full of drills, and she can't remember the last time she went on a date. Not that she ever really went on those, it was more like little flings here and there. But not anymore.

After Bryce vanished and they spent an their short season without a Captain, Claudia wants to give this her everything. She's dead set on pulling this team from the bottom of the barrel and make them real competitors this season. Even if it means losing sleep or any semblance of a personal life.

When Exy is so important for her, it's hard for her to understand the Foxes that treat it like an annoying sport that they have to play. No one made them do this. She knows Wymack tries to recruit players that have nowhere else to go, but that's almost never actually the case. Mateo and Indigo are richer than rich and could go anywhere. Kent could've gone to community college or worked at a surf shop or whatever it is he likes to do. The point is--Claudia's tired of the excuses and apathy.

Olivia's trying to be patient, but that "not too much" is telling. Claudia is trying too, but if anyone's still messing around come game time, she will make people stay behind and clean the court floor with toothbrushes.

"You and me both," Claudia gives a dry laugh. "There's only so long I'll forgive being too new. We never let that stop us." They weren't on the same team yet, but Claudia played against Olivia and saw her on TV and just knows her as a person. She didn't fuck around.

Whether it was the Foxes, a Big Three team, or high school—Olivia never really wanted to be Captain, even when the very same press that was tearing her down the year before seemed ready to crown her Captain the second she switched to the Foxes.

Her father had her career mapped out almost from the moment she was born, every step carefully planned out to make her as successful as possible—more successful than he had ever been. Her father wasn't a dealer, but she was, because he felt like that would give her the best chance to go pro, to have longevity as a professional. And, as a dealer, she was never flashy, she was never a cocky striker giving egotistic sound bites to the press.

She was a hard worker. A team player. She made the players around her better, and she kept her head down. She was a professional. She was the kind of person you wanted in your locker room, one you'd never have to worry about getting in trouble with the press.

Or at least she was.

And if she isn't anymore, she wants to get back there. That's still who she wants to be. And everything in her is focused on that: on finding her way back to her game, to showing everyone that she's still got more to show, that she hasn't played her best Exy yet.

She can't be like Claudia, and focused on fixing the entire team on top of that. She wouldn't even know where to begin. Last year, she thought she could show up in Palmetto and drag the Foxes kicking and screaming with her to the playoffs, whether they liked it or not, and look at how that turned out.

"They're new," she says. It's nice that, even though she isn't the Captain, or the Vice Captain, Claudia's confiding in her. And, with the weight of the team and its reputation on her shoulders, Oliva finds herself wanting to reassure her. "Maybe they just—need a little time. Hopefully not too much, though. The scrimmage is one thing, but there are some real games I want to win this year."

[aroseandapen]

I'm a terrible person for this but how about Marie and Jaden for the pencil thing with the word "hurt"

If the others tried speaking to her, their voices ran senselessly through her ears. She sat still on the ground, hard beneath her knees–a tear in one leg of her stockings, though she didn’t know how it got there. Her eyes focused on that little imperfection, head pounding.

It still hurt from where it had collided with the floor, when Jaden had shook her and then someone had pulled him away. Her balance hadn’t recovered, or maybe she didn’t have the will to try enough to regain it, and she’d fallen over.

He died.

She failed.

He died.

Her hands curled into tight fists, tears hot in her eyes even as her lips peeled back in a snarl. It was an expression even she didn’t know she was capable of making before then–grief and despair like a red-hot iron dunked into her gut. Of everyone left, he’d deserved to survive. Jaden should’ve gotten out, back to his family, safe. Even if he didn’t want that.

And of course he hadn’t wanted that. That was the very reason why he deserved to live and escape more than anyone here.

Dammit, the only two people worth a damn in this place, dead. Neither of them deserved it.

“Marie, say something!”

The demand made her ears ring. Olivia stood, swaying in place from both rage and the dizziness from her aching head. She hated them, more so now than ever. Hated them, more than she’d ever felt hate before. And if it was the very last thing she did, at the very least, she’d get revenge for the death of her dearest friend.

“I’m going back first,” she said, feeling disconnected from her own body even as she spoke. She didn’t know what the questions, or the accusations, had been, but she had no intention of answering them. With slow, dragging steps, with her head still throbbing, she made her way to the elevator. No one made moves to follow her.

“See you.”

[twopoppies]

Imagine thinking that deuxmoi, who up until recently has been saying once a month that Holivia is engaged and Olivia is pregnant, is right about anything. Deuxmoi who confirmed an anon earlier this year that Harry and Emma Coirin had a place together and were in a serious relationship for a year and a half up until he met Olivia, and is now confirming an anon that Harry hooked up with Emma a few times while she was sharing with someone else, but it was nothing serious. She clearly can't keep up with all her lies and constantly contradicts herself. The fact too that Harries are laughing on twitter about how she'll post their fan fiction and pass it off as real, but only if it's about Harry and women. They've sent anons about him and men too but of course deuxmoi doesn't post them. Imagine thinking that Harry and Emma had any romantic or sexual chemistry at Tiff when he was just being his playful and silly self that he is like with everyone. Harries are really scraping the bottom of the barrel because he's not giving them anything. It's giving desperation. I don't understand how deuxmoi still has a platform when she gets 80% wrong and yet there is still gullible and naive people believing every word she says. The few things she gets right is just educated guesses which anyone can do. She does so much backtracking and deleting posts and switching up thoughts and contradicting herself. Harry has been in the industry since he was 16, is media trained and has talked constantly about how private he is and how protective he is over his private life. If you're to believe deuxmoi he sleeps with every single woman he comes across and has 100s of girlfriends at a time and is more than happy to discuss his love life and sex life openly with complete strangers and anyone who will listen. Apparently he has never heard of NDAs. Why is she doing it? Is she a het Harrie projecting her sexual fantasies on him or is she just using his name for clicks? If he does come out of the closet as a gay man I'm 100% sure she'll still be writing fan fiction about him sleeping with every woman he stands next to.

🤣🤣🤣 how did I miss the idiocy of Harry and Emma living together and being in a serious relationship before he met Olivia? Oh my god why does anyone pay attention to this idiot woman? And she’s making a fortune off of this shit.

[scenefox2003]

Marcy Falls Down The Fucking Stairs

Aka Olivia and Marcy meet for the first time in the most violently Marcy way possible

It was a normal day.

Just a normal, mundane, not at all cataclysmic day in Newtopia.

Until it wasn’t.

Lady Olivia strolled primly down the cobbled sidewalk of the city, carrying bags of groceries. She could’ve gotten a servant to do it, but Olivia didn’t believe she was above such things. Besides, she liked to get out and get fresh air. If she didn’t leave the castle grounds regularly it would do weird things to her mental health.

Just as she was thinking about how nice the weather was, Olivia heard what sounded like faint, far away… screaming?

She brushed it off, assuming some kids were playing somewhere. But then it gradually got louder. And closer. And was that a cracking noise?

Lady Olivia found herself inconveniently standing by the bottom of Newtopia’s longest staircase, and that’s when she looked up and found the source of the noise.

Someone was falling down the fucking stairs.

“HEY! LOOK OOOOOUT!” the person screamed, before finally colliding with Olivia and sending them both flying backwards.

Olivia groaned and rubbed her head, surveying herself for injury. Besides being shaken up and scattering her groceries everywhere, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong. Olivia quickly picked herself up and dusted off her dress, a bit embarrassed but okay. The same couldn’t be said for the other person though. She was lying face first on the ground, twitching and groaning, her limbs a tangled mess.

“Oh- oh my, are you alright?!” Olivia asked, hurrying to her aid. She lifted her head, and- oh.

This wasn’t a newt, or even an amphibian at all. Olivia had never seen anything like her before. She was tall, gangly, and dry. Her head was strangely shaped, and had two protruding ears on either side and a strange bump in the middle of her face that seemed to be bleeding.

Olivia took a step back, shocked.

“Huh? Oh, sorry ‘bout that. You guys have long staircases,” the creature slurred, rubbing her arm under her face bump. She looked at it, noticing the blood, but seemed too dazed to freak out. “Huh, nose’s bleeding. That makes sense.” She attempted to pick herself up, but yelped in pain and quickly laid back down, groaning.

The crowd that had formed around them started to exchange frightened whispers.

“What is that thing?!”

“It’s definitely not from around here, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe it just went barreling into Lady Olivia and doesn’t seem bothered!”

“Why is it in our city?”

“Why is it so ugly?!”

“Someone call the Knight Guard! They’ll know what to do!”

Despite the reaction of everyone else, Olivia couldn’t help but feel bad for the strange creature. It was definitely intelligent, at least on par with newts, and sounded very young. So as the crowd backed away, Olivia stepped closer, kneeling down in front of her. She rubbed the creature’s head to get her attention.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” She asked.

“Uuuuuuhuuuum… seven! Wait, no, three! Wait, no, you’re supposed to have five, so…. Ten?” She coughed a few times, then threw up on the marble sidewalk. The crowd gasped in horror and backed away further. “…Oops. Sorry about your carpet,” she slurred, obviously out of it.

Olivia stared at her bewildered for a second, then jumped into action.

“I think you have a concussion,” she said gently, then looked at the rest of her body. “And does your species usually bend like that?” Olivia pointed at the creature’s leg, the lower half of which was jutting out at a nauseating angle. She turned her head to see, and winced.

“Yeah, definitely not. Now that you mention it… Ouch, that really hurts!”

The creature sniffled and wiped her bloody nose again, and Olivia pulled a fancy lace handkerchief out of her pocket and held it to her nose. “Here, don’t cry, it’ll make it worse. Tilt your head back like this, okay?”

The creature whimpered and did so, and Olivia turned to address the crowd.

“Does anyone have a wagon? I need to get her to a hospital!”

Everyone avoided eye contact with her, and a taxi driver stepped in front of his cab as if that could hide it. Olivia scoffed.

“That’s royal orders!” She demanded, and the taxi driver immediately switched his attitude.

“O-of course, here, get her in my cab,” he said, rushing over to help lift her up.

“About time,” Olivia said, fully intending to be rude. “Creature, I’m going to need to stand up on your good leg, alright? There you go.” The two newts helped the creature awkwardly hop to the cab, but about halfway there she started to falter.

“Yeeeaaaah, I’m gonna pass out.”

“WAIT! NONONO, DON’T PASS OUT! STAY AWAKE, YOU NEED TO GET TO-“ Olivia shouted, but it was no use, and the creature went limp. “Oh god damn it,” she groaned, completely abandoning any sort of etiquette. She felt like she had the right to in this situation. She then turned to the huge mass of newts standing there staring, like fascinated schoolchildren looking at a dead animal. “WILL ANY OF YOU COME HELP US INSTEAD OF JUST STANDING THERE?!” The crowd all averted eye contact again. “COME ON, SERIOUSLY?! TOUCHING HER IS NOT GOING TO KILL YOU! SHE’S JUST A GIRL! A really strange, gangly, clumsy girl…” she added quietly to herself.

A muscular orange newt handed her young daughter to a nearby stranger and headed over, then carefully lifted the creature into her arms.

“Here, I’ve got her. Get in the cab.”

“Oh, thank you,” Olivia said gratefully, climbing into the wagon. Once she was seated, the newt laid the girl across the seat, placing her head in Olivia’s lap.

“No problem, sorry for not helping earlier. I’m glad to know Newtopia has such caring royalty. Makes me feel like my kid’s in a good place, ya know?”

Olivia smiled, then looked down at the creature. As the cab started moving, her eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Huh… wuh? What’s goin’ on?”

“We’re getting you to a hospital. You fell down the stairs, remember?”

The creature squinted, thinking hard, then gasped.

“Oh YEAH! I remember that! I threw up on your lawn! Sorry about that.”

Olivia chuckled, she would never get that right.

“It’s alright. What’s your name, creature?”

“I’m Marcy Wu, and I’m a human!”

“A human?”

“Yup, but who cares about that, what are YOU? Why are you blue? Your hair is really pretty, what shampoo do you use? Do you watch anime? Why do you think parents encourage their children to go to college when it’ll just put many of them in inescapable student loan debt? What’s your opinion on gay people?”

Olivia laughed. She had a feeling that she was going to be answering a lot of questions in the foreseeable future.

“One at a time, Marcy. Firstly, I’m Lady Olivia of Newtopia. And I’m a newt.”

Marcy’s eyes grew to the size of golf balls, and they practically sparkled with amazement.

“Woah… that sounds fancy! You’re a talking newt?! That’s wild! I had a pet newt once, a non talking one, but then my neighbor’s kid rock tumbled him in his aquarium. His guts were blue, is that why you’re blue? Or are you blue because there’s some evolutionary benefit to it? Or does it just look pretty? I have so many questions, I don’t even know where to start! But my head feels kinda woozy…”

Olivia smiled sympathetically and brushed the hair out of her eyes, pinning it back into place with the green hairpin that had gotten all tangled up and loose during her fall.

“I’m sure it does, that was a rather long fall you took there. But you’re going to be alright. Just close your eyes and rest for me, and I can answer all your questions once you’re all fixed up and feeling better.”

Marcy closed her eyes and smiled, feeling completely and totally safe with this bizarre stranger. Soon enough they were at the hospital, but she had already fallen asleep.

[alwaysmarveling]

Socks

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: toxic relationships, small mentions of death, gaslighting, fighting, and miscarriage

Word Count: 4k (literally exactly 4k, I’m kinda proud)

A/N: Based on the song “1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back” by Olivia Rodrigo as suggested by @vancityfire13, I hope this meets all your hopes and expectations <3 also technically this is my first prompt from someone who’s not me??!

You met Wanda at the library. Your legs crossed, eyebrows scrunched, and bottom lip caught between your teeth, you’d settled in the familiar corner of the library's world languages section. That area was always quiet, which you’d found out after many trips to the library as a kid. When the occasional patron did wander through, perusing the shelves, sometimes they brought family or friends, weaving together sounds and syllables that had to be from another language. It was the only sound you’d tolerate while you were immersed in your reading. Well, to be fully honest, you loved it, wondering what the hushed voices were saying, what stories they were telling. So Wanda’s English was a jarring wake-up call.

“I like your socks.” Her eyes flashed to your ankles, leaving you wondering if she was more drawn to the sky blue color or the characters covering it.

You’d noticed the brunette walking the aisles about ten minutes ago. Unlike most, she ran her fingers along the worn spines, seeming only half-interested in what the titles read.

“Thanks.” Your voice was cold, unwelcoming. She gave you a terse nod before heading off, her footsteps silent against the worn carpet. You thought she was gone.

-

A week later, you were back at your spot. You’d finally finished the work you’d been putting off for weeks, just about to reward yourself with a reread of Little Women, a book you’d read an uncountable number of times since you were a child. She was an unwelcome interruption.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but-”

“I was looking for a book for my brother. His name is Pietro. Was Pietro. There was a Sokovian fairytale he always loved. Begged my mother to read it to us every night. He could recite it by memory by the time he was five, knew every word. I thought I did too.” Your eyes traced down the curve of her spine. Your mother would have scolded you for standing so poorly.

“I’m sorry for your loss” was all you said, your lips forming a tight line when you finished.

“I couldn’t- I can’t remember the title.”

“I can try to help you find it?” You weren’t sure why you offered, maybe the lost look in her eyes, the growing strength of her accent as she talked, or the way her fingers traced her empty palms. No one should leave a library empty-handed.

“Do you speak Sokovian?” The corners of her eyes creased as you shook your head.

“I suppose you won’t be much help then, will you?” Her words held no bite, only the sadness of a stranger who was trying to hold herself together, her emotions threatening to unravel her at the weakened seams. You matched her facial expression out of sympathy, but she was gone before you had a chance to apologize.

-

“Do you like Disney?” she had asked you. Her eyes were back on your ankles. You were wearing the same socks as when the two of you first met. You were milliseconds away from answering, your tongue already against the roof of your mouth, ready to shut down the conversation immediately afterward. But then you noticed the way her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers always moving, almost like they were dancing. You sighed. You should be nicer; she’d really done nothing wrong.

“It’s alright.” Your shoulders raised and dropped, your answer purposefully vague. “Did you manage to find the book?” The darkening of her eyes was enough to tell you that, no, she hadn’t found it. “What’s the main character’s name?” Her gaze followed you as you pulled out your laptop.

“Boleslav,” she answered finally. Her gaze was timid, unsure. Why were you helping her? You’d been so closed off before. 

“Do you know any major points of the story? The names of the other characters?” Before she could answer, you eyed the pillow that sat next to you. She took a seat.

The two of you poured over Google, eventually finding the story and its location in the library. But by that point, you were too wrapped up in your findings on the Internet to get up. Too wrapped up in each other.

---

Wanda insisted she make it up to you, for finding the book for her.

“For helping me find my brother,” she insisted, pulling you out of the library. If she was anyone else, you would have responded by saying that she could make it up to you by leaving you alone with your books, but she wasn’t anyone else. So you let her tug you out of the building, Mirabelle, the librarian, giving you a wink upon seeing you leaving the building with someone else, soft smiles gracing your faces.

You thought she would’ve brought you to coffee, but it seemed you hadn’t yet developed the ability to understand her. She brought you to the city, a small store on the corner. Socks lined the walls, the different colors and patterns flooding your vision.

“Your Disney ones looked old.” You half-nodded as you scanned the store, your hand going limp in hers. You remembered learning about rods and cones in class ages ago, not quite remembering what each one did but remembering that one of them was involved in seeing colors. Those—whatever they were called—must’ve been on overdrive.

You picked one pair for her, and she, one for you. You wore those socks constantly, slipping them over your feet the second they were out of the wash. You never told Wanda about it, but you didn’t have to; her eyes fell to your ankles every time she saw you, a small smile on her face. You didn’t know if you did it for her reaction or simply because you loved them. Maybe it was both.

---

Wanda drew you into her world. Some might have used the word “yanked” given how quickly your relationship moved. But that made it sound involuntary, as if she’d forced you to move in with her when she’d asked you exactly eight months after your first date. And if you’d known she had powers when you first met her, you might’ve agreed. Maybe she’d entranced you and now you were stuck with her, even if you didn’t really want to be.

But the truth was that you did, you wanted to be with her every second you could. And though magic never left her hands when she was with you, even her name was magic, the way those two syllables rang beautifully in the air as she formally introduced herself for the first time. She spoke English when she talked to you, but you swore that whatever left her mouth was a language of her own, so elegant, sweet, and charming in a way that no English speaker could replicate.

But, one night, her words twisted into daggers, punctuated syllables sharpening into dangerous ends, the beginning of each sentence like a handle she grabbed and used to hurt you further, twist until it was lodged as deeply into your chest as it could go.

You weren’t sure what you did to make it happen. Maybe it was just a bad night. She was drunk, after all, home from some party with the Avengers that you hadn’t gone to. The two of you had talked it over before, though, both agreeing that it was too soon in your relationship to attend anything where it’d be publicly released, which was why you were confused about why she was cursing you out for abandoning her, not being there when you needed her.

You promised that you’d be sure to go next time. Wanda just turned around, dismissing you without another word. You weren’t sure what was worse, the silence or her words. She somehow missed the tears that streamed down your face.

-

The next day, she knocked on your door. This time, she was the one in tears, the rate at which they fell only increasing when she saw how puffy your eyes were.

“I- I’m sorry,” she bumbled, the sounds tumbling out of her mouth like a barrel coming down the Niagara Falls. She couldn’t have stopped them if she tried. You watched her struggle through an apology, something about her insecurities being magnified as she saw all the other couples around her seemingly happy. She just wanted that. And even though her speech was much more clumsy than the usual effortless diction you were used to hearing from her, you allowed her words to draw you in, provide you shelter from the horrors you’d experienced yesterday, when your heart raced and blood rushed your ears and your palms were so sweaty you couldn’t get a grip on anything. You allowed her arms to draw you in, make you feel safe. You allowed her to bring you home.

---

Wanda saw a side of you that no one had ever seen before. Scratch that, Wanda saw all of you. Where others would’ve looked away or missed the true meaning of your words, she dug deeper. You lived your whole life with a mask on, swapping one out for another to appease those around you. Wanda took them all off.

But she didn’t force them off; she made you want to take them off. You were the one who peeled them off one by one, the experience being extremely unnerving every time you revealed that much more of yourself to her, but you always found yourself relieved at the end. Because she accepted you, she loved you.

Right?

---

You called her once, during a mission. It was something the two of you had been doing ever since you started dating. You would ask how she was doing, make sure she was okay, and she’d do the same for you. Of course, when her missions were off-the-grid you didn’t call, but if the two of you were allowed to stay in contact, she insisted that you guys do so.

“I have to make sure my love is okay,” she’d murmured, just before she left for her first mission since the two of you started your relationship. She was holding you in her arms as the two of you swayed back and forth. Your feet were bare for once, the cold kitchen tile underfoot grounding the both of you. Neither of you had wanted to let go; your hands were clasped firmly together around her waist, and hers rested on top of yours. But eventually, the incessant honking from Tony became too much, and the two of you reluctantly moved apart.

“I’ll call you the second I can, yeah? And make sure you call me in the morning when you wake up.”

“I will,” you nodded as Wanda’s hand came up to brush against your cheek.

But somehow she’d forgotten about your agreement, and nothing but annoyance filled your ear, the phone pressed up against it.

“Y/N, I really don’t have time for this right now.” You sucked in a breath, her tone an instant reminder of that night she’d yelled at you. But that was so long ago. And you hadn’t done anything; there wasn’t a party you’d missed since then, not a moment since then that you’d let her feel alone. Or was there?

“I- I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “Should I call you back later?” All you got was a sigh, doubt and panic filling your chest in the momentary silence.

“We’ll see. Goodbye, milaya.” There was barely a pause in between her voice and the disconnect tone. You weren’t sure if the pet name was sincere or a habit leftover from the good times.

Were you still in the good times?

What went wrong?

Where did you go wrong?

-

She came back from the mission, and all was well again. She spun you around and around, her melodious giggles filling your ears and causing the corners of your mouth to lift. But you couldn’t help your brows from cinching inwards, wondering where this Wanda had been when you’d called. Was it just another fluke, or maybe something you’d imagined?

“I love you, printsessa, so, so much,” Wanda whispered. You loved the way her smooth voice filled your ears, made you feel whole again. Maybe it was the kitchen? Was that the place she felt safe, the place where she felt like she could love you fully? Maybe that’s why she seemed so closed off during the mission. When you didn’t respond, too lost in thought, she spoke up again.

“Detka, d’you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me? I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her eyes sparkled. No red mist emerged from her fingertips, but you swore Wanda’s essence was magic in and of itself. How could you ever deny her?

You surrendered.

“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

---

The next day, Wanda woke you up with excitement filling her voice, insisting that you come with her to the compound to pick up some of the things she’d left behind. 

“I want to show you off,” she’d laughed as she rolled you over.

“We’ve already met, babe. They love me, you’ve said so yourself,” you groaned. She shook her head as she corralled you into the bathroom.

“You haven’t met all of them! Now c’mon, let’s go!” You agreed, and she was right, there were lots of new people there.

“You must be Y/N, right?” You nodded as you shook the man’s hand.

“I’m Clint. I’ve heard, um, lots about you. And your socks.” The two of you laughed at his joke, but something about his chuckle was off. His smile never quite reached his eyes. Wanda whisked you off too soon for you to figure out why though, bringing you over to a rather large man. No, god, he’s a god. Thor, he said. His name is Thor.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’d responded.

“The love of my life,” Wanda sighed, her voice wispy and dreamy. The god’s eyebrows had raised at that.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you then, Y/N. I didn’t know Wanda was so fortunate as to have a love so strong.” Sometimes you had to remind yourself of that too. “You are very lucky, my friend.” Am I? 

-

You exchanged jokes with Natasha, learned of some of Bruce and Tony’s new projects, listened to stories of Thor’s childhood adventures on Asgard; the night went well. Until it didn’t.

You were yanked into a mostly empty room, the door quickly shut behind you. Was that a flash of red you’d seen in the corner of your eye?

“What did you do?” someone hissed. The voice was familiar, but by this point, you weren’t sure if it filled you with dread or joy when you heard it. Was that part of the excitement of your relationship, trying to figure out the complexities of it all, trying to predict which version of your lover you’d get this time?

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I didn’t do anything, Wanda, I swear!”

“Then why is Clint telling me to break up with you? What did you say to him?” Your head shook, your whole body shook. This was news to you.

“I didn’t say anything. Please, Wan-”

“How am I supposed to believe that, Y/N? Do you really think he’d just make that up out of nowhere?” You tried to find the words, the ones you should say, the ones she’d want you to say. You had nothing. The witch’s anger grew, her hands slamming down on her sides. “God, Y/N! It’s like sometimes I don’t even know who you are!”

But wait, that was how you felt. Wasn’t it? Or had you dreamed that up too? What had you done?

“Wanda, I promise I didn’t do anything. I’ve been friendly to him all night.”

“So you expect me to believe he’s lying, then.” Your eyes fell to her chest, its rise and fall rapid but deep, going up and down several times before she spoke again. “Y/N, he named his child after my brother. Why would he lie to me?” You could do nothing, say nothing to fix this. You weren’t sure exactly what you did, but you’d messed up. Again.

“Maybe he’s right, then.” Her hand ran through her hair, the brown locks that you loved to twist around your own fingers, play with as she laid in your lap, a show playing in the background. You missed those times.

But weren’t you just doing that last night?

You weren’t sure. It seemed like so long ago.

---

Weeks, months, even a year passed. Wanda had apologized for that night at the compound. She’d also apologized for the countless number of other times the two of you had fought since then. But it was okay, you’d thought, because for all those arguments was an equal number of moments where the two of you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe, slow-danced at 3 AM, used your hairbrushes as microphones to sing concerts for your millions of fans. At least, you thought it was an equal number. Did number matter anyway?

Wanda went from being your girlfriend, to being your fiancé, to being your wife. Like Thor had said, you were “very lucky.” You are very lucky. Because right now, you’re looking down at the stick in your hand, and there are two lines, not one. The two of you had done something so many couldn’t; that was a huge blessing. And now you had to tell Wanda.

Finding the box was harder than you thought, but the other part was much easier. All you had to do was go to the store Wanda had taken you to all that time ago, the small store on the corner. And when the brunette lifted open the lid to find a pair of socks so tiny they could only be for one thing, one person, one baby, she knew. She was ecstatic. You were relieved.

-

Four weeks. Four weeks later from that day was the worst day of your life. Just as quickly as the baby had come, it had gone. He or she was gone. Was it your fault? The doctor had been quick to shut those thoughts down, insisting that there were many factors that could’ve caused the miscarriage, but you certainly weren’t one of them.

But Wanda didn’t talk to you for a whole week, spending the nights in the guest bedroom to avoid you. It was the longest the two of you had gone without speaking. That had to mean something, right?

It did. It meant that it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you came home from work the following Monday to find half of the things missing. All of her things.

The box was still there, though; you saw it out of the corner of your eye. It sat on top of a cabinet, the two socks poking out of the top.

The two of you had fallen in love with those tiny socks faster than you’d fallen in love with each other. They held so much love, so much promise. But now they were empty, devoid of anything they might’ve held just hours before. They were nothing more than a painful reminder of what could have been, what should have been. Meanwhile, your own socks were still on, the same ones Wanda had given to you on your first date. You weren’t sure you could take them off if you tried. Was that a reminder too? Did it have significance?

The ticking of the clock suddenly caught your attention. You had been standing at the doorway for thirty minutes, but what were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to go somewhere? Where would you go? Wanda was gone, not leaving any clue as to where she could’ve run off to, and you were alone.��

When was the last time you’d been truly alone?

Didn’t you use to like being alone?

You grabbed your keys. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but whatever it was, you wouldn’t find it here.

-

You push open the door, always the one on the right. Walk twenty or so steps through the entrance, turn left. Take another left, then walk-

It was different. Completely different. The shelves weren’t the same color, metal had been swapped for wood, the carpet was new; what had happened?

“Y/N, sweetie, is that you?” Mirabelle’s voice. At least she was still here. You turned to face her, taking in her wrinkled face, the tortoiseshell glasses that had been perched on her nose since you met her as a child. “Oh my goodness, it is! We haven’t seen you in ages. We were all so worried.”

“Wha- what happened to the library?” Her kind smile flipped, her lips separated with their corners turning downwards.

“We got a renovation at the end of last year, honey. Didn’t you see it on the news?”

“Right,” you nodded, swallowing again, trying to push down the lump that had been growing in your throat for over an hour. “Um, where’s the world languages section?”

“Upstairs, love. Take two rights and you’ll see it. Enjoy your visit, okay?” You nodded again, pressing your lips into a wavering smile that Mirabelle accepted.

You found the section easily enough, pushing yourself into one of the beanbags that crowded the floor. It was quiet—you supposed not many people came to the library on a late Tuesday afternoon—but something was missing.

No, that wasn’t it. Nothing was missing. Everything had changed, and you couldn’t settle yourself no matter how hard you tried. You couldn’t recognize the white walls or the large windows that surrounded you. You couldn’t recognize the book in your shaking hands; the title read “Little Women,” but it lacked the comfort and familiarity it once brought you. You couldn’t recognize the artwork that hung on the walls, the large signs suspended from the ceiling.

You caught a reflection in the shiny metal of a book cart that lay several feet away from you.

You couldn’t recognize yourself.

When you finally left the library, Mirabelle frowned as she watched you exit the doors, not stopping to check out a book like you always did. No one should ever leave a library empty-handed. You’d forgotten that too.

---

She came back less than a week later, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes rimmed with red as she stumbled her way through an apology.

“It was a mistake, detka, I promise. I made such an awful mistake, and I’ll never forgive myself. I won’t blame you if you don’t forgive me either.” You stared at her, neither your eyes nor your mouth moving as you tried to take in what she was saying, tried to come up with an adequate response.

Which had changed more, the library or you?

“Please, you’re the only thing that matters in my life. I can’t lose you.” The melody of her once-full voice was broken, the chords fragmented and notes falling out of tune. It was as broken as you’d felt for the past few days. Maybe she understood. But you couldn’t think anymore because you were suddenly in her arms again, her tears soaking your shirt as she sobbed.

The library had been renovated, its modernity and welcoming environment being a major improvement to the once somewhat dilapidated building. You had slipped, your feet wrapped in the socks Wanda had given you as you stumbled down the dark, crooked hallway of your life, trying desperately to get a hand on the wall, grab a solid footing.

You had two options: save yourself or fall.

“Please, Y/N, please. Promise you’ll stay.” 

You fell backwards, your head being the first to slam into the floor.

“Of course I’ll stay, Wan. I’d never leave you.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get up. After all, changed or not, what’s a library without its books? Who are you without her?

-----

🏷 : @007giu

[spookyrus-writes-sometimes]

Amphibia was incredible.

I wasn't going to give it a chance at first. The premise was silly to me, and the few season 1 episodes I caught now and then didn't do anything for me. But I heard talk and saw fan art, saw that so many people loved these characters dearly, and that pushed me to see the show through. And I am so glad that I did.

The story of Anne, Sasha, and Marcy's relationship is so real and so near and dear to my heart. The tragedy of their imperfect love for each other is beautiful, and that alone made me fall in love with this show. That all three would do anything for each other, whether it's make terrible mistakes or change for the better, is the true love that I so desperately long to experience. They're cartoon characters, but they're written so real. They're so, so important to me.

Of course there are things that I would have done differently, and things that I wish could have been explored more. I feel that a number of the slice of life episodes drag, especially in season 1, and it hurts the show's pacing. I vehemently loathe season 3's aversion to addressing Sasha and Marcy until it's their time to show up for the plot. I feel that Darcy was severely underutilized. I wish we could have seen more of Sasha and Marcy's calamity powers. I wish we had seen more of Andrias's relationship with Leif and Barrel. I really don't like that the day was saved by a plot device only introduced in the final episode.

And I never, EVER would have written an ending as tragic as the one we got. I'm afraid of unhappy endings, of leaving things unresolved or on an unidealistic note. Of course we all wish that the worlds hadn't been cut off. It hurts to know that Anne will never get to see Sprig and Polly grow up, that Grime will never get to see just how far Sasha has come, that Marcy will never get to have the familial relationship with Olivia and Yunan that they deserved. It's especially hard to know that even after everything they've been through together, Anne, Sasha, and Marcy still drifted apart. It's so, so hard to say goodbye. So hard to accept that not everything gets a perfect, happy ending, wrapped up in a neat little bow. That sometimes things change, not always for the better, and all you can do is remember and move on.

It's not a perfect ending. But in a lot of ways, I feel it's the perfect ending for Amphibia.

Amphibia is not and was never an escapist fantasy. It's clearly a story very personal to its creator, one that aims to share some of the hard truths he's learned in his life. Amphibia is a story about love and loss and how those things change you, how you improve and become stronger for those you love, and what you'll give for them. But it doesn't try to convince us that love can conquer anything, because it can't. Sometimes, no matter how hard it is, you have to say goodbye. I think that's a really important lesson, not just for the audience, but for the characters.

Anne will never forget Sprig, Polly, and Hop Pop, and they'll never forget her. They changed each other for the better, and their lives are better for it, even if they can't be together anymore. Maybe Anne, Sasha, and Marcy didn't get to be together forever, maybe life led them in different directions, but their love for each other still made them better people. And maybe it's enough to know that despite everything, no matter how far apart they are, their love will always find each other.

And if that isn't enough, well, we'll always have fan fiction.

I know that my passion for this show will fade, just like it did for all the shows before it. But I will never forget the feelings Amphibia made me feel, and I truly believe that Reunion, (especially) True Colors, and The Hardest Thing will go down as some of my all-time favorite episodes of television. I know that the story of Amphibia is one that will change my approach to storytelling, and hopefully me as a person, for the better.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart, to both Matt Braly and the crew and all the fan creators who got me invested, for Anne, Sasha, and Marcy. And to Sprig, Polly, Hop Pop, Grime, Olivia, Yunan, and Andrias, goodbye, and thank you for all the awesome adventures.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 5,266 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: I didn't do nearly as many read-throughs with this one so there are probably typos. Also YA'LL. ARE. GONNA. LOVE. THIS. A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: After the visit from the Saviors at Hilltop, Daryl and Y/N finally head back to Alexandria, waiting on the edge of war.

Your name: submit What is this?

That night, after the Saviors left, was to be your last in Hilltop before you returned to Alexandria to officialyl kick the hornet nest. You had said something about going to talk to Maggie but after a while you still hadn’t returned and Daryl went to see if there was anything he could help with. He knocked on the door of Jesus’ trailer and Enid pulled open the door. Everyone was there, except for you.

“Hey. Y/N ain’t here?” he drawled. Maggie noticed how his brow drew down low over his eyes, a clear expression of worry.

“She was but she left a while ago,” Jesus said, climbing to his feet. “I assumed she was headed your way.”

“Nah. She ain’t been back.” His stomach twisted a little with anxiety. “Alright… Thanks,” he said, turning to leave.

“Daryl, wait!” Maggie called after him. She got up from her seat at the table and walked over. “You’re leavin’ early in the mornin’, right?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Headin’ back.”

Maggie nodded. “Alright. Then let us say goodbye to ya now in case we don’t see ya.” She grabbed Daryl into a tight hug before he could protest. He was stiff at first but he soon pressed a hand to her back and returned it. “You be safe. And we’ll see ya soon.”

He nudged his nose up in a nod. Sasha grabbed him briefly into a hug. Enid waved from her place on the couch and Jesus strode forward to shake his hand. “Thanks for all your help here,” he said. “It really means a lot.”

Daryl nodded again. “Mhm. We’ll be rid of ‘em for good soon. See ya’ll.” The archer’s broad frame disappeared back outside. He stopped for a minute and scanned the open space for your familiar frame, but he couldn’t see you anywhere. The first places he checked were all the guard posts along the wall but there was no sign of you. He tried Abraham and Glenn’s graves next, but no luck. Then his eyes fell on the stable and he knew you sometimes went there in an attempt to quiet your mind, and after that interaction with Negan today, the things he had said loud enough for everyone to hear, Daryl suspected that your mind needed a little quieting.

His guess was right.

You came into view, leaning up against one of the stall doors, petting a mare who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the attention. There was only the glow of a few lanterns to light the space and your expression was cast in shadow when he came in, the soft hay making his steps nearly silent.

“Hey,” he said, drawing your eyes. “Been lookin’ for ya.”

“Sorry,” you said softly.

“Nah, it’s not¬—nothin’ to be sorry for,” he said, crossing the space to you. You didn’t have a smile for him this time and his concern grew. “Ya alright? Today was…” he broke off, not even sure what word to use.

You were usually quick to reassure him that you were fine, but this time you didn’t. You just stared ahead and absently smoothed your hand down the horse’s neck, trying to gather your courage to speak.

Daryl stepped closer to you until he was leaned up right beside you against the stall door. “Hey. C’mon. Talk to me. What is it?”

He watched you gulp and shut your eyes for a moment, gathering yourself. You shook your head a little and let out a shaky exhale before you glanced over at him. “Negan. What he—he said—and… everyone… the rest of the day today, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. And you know that feeling you get when you enter a room and people were just talking about you? It felt like that in all of Hilltop today.” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears burning in your eyes from spilling out. “Everybody here must just think I—”

“Hey, c’mon. Stop that. Nobody thinks anything about it,” he said trying to reassure you. But you turned your eyes down toward your hands.

“The way some of them were looking at me? Yeah. They do, Daryl… Now all of Hilltop knows that I—that I slept with Negan. With him.” It was hard even to get the words out. “And I can’t even really blame them. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I never should have allowed—” you said quietly, breaking off and shuffling your feet back and forth anxiously in the soft bedding on the barn floor. You could no longer stop any of the tears from spilling out and Daryl saw them cascade down your cheeks as you finally looked back up at him and met his blue eyes. “I can’t even blame them for what they probably think of me. What you must think of me…” You hastily wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks. “Hell, a lot of the time—” you shook your head, staring down at your hands again, “I think the worst of it myself…”

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. His gaze was intense. He hated that you had been put in that situation. He hated that circumstances had ever collided in just such a way as to put you in a place where your only option was to submit to Negan, to allow him to lay a finger on you. And then you’d gone back. For him. “Ya want to know what I think? Ya were victimized by him. But ya ain’t a victim. You’re a survivor. That’s all ya did. Ya survived. And ya saved my ass! Ya didn’t have a choice. And any of them who are too stupid to figure that out ain’t worth it. They don’t know a damn thing about it. All the rest of us, Maggie, Jesus, Rick, Aaron & Eric, we know. We know. I’m proud to even know ya. And I consider myself lucky that ya’ve chosen me as bein’—as bein’ someone worth yer time.” He watched you wipe another tear off your cheek, your eyes wide and glassy as you looked back at him. He tilted his head gently at you. “C’mere.” His expression was soft and one you never could refuse.

It was all you needed. You fell into him and his strong arms wrapped around you tightly and pressed you into him, like he needed you there against his chest. Daryl breathed in the scent of your hair and settled you against him, smoothing his hands over your back lightly. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and focused on that feeling of safety. “S’alright. I ain’t ever thought less of ya because of what happened to ya. It ain’t your fault. Wasn’t a choice. And if anybody so much as looks at ya sideways, ya just come tell me and I’ll knock them on their ass, alright?”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. You pressed your hand flat against his chest, loving how you could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingers and the expansion of his lungs as he breathed. You pulled back slightly so you could look up into his handsome face. He looked worried still, anxiously chewing on his bottom lip. But, finally, you gave him a smile, albeit still a little teary, and he relaxed some. His fingers smoothed through your hair and you sighed, feeling a return of the warmth he always gave you. It grew and spread outward in your chest, spilling into your face, and you arched up onto your toes and kissed him.

You were setting your heels back down when his arm snaked around your lower back and pulled your hips into his. You looked up and met his eyes again and he nudged his nose up once. Daryl’s request for another kiss. You gladly acquiesced and this time you both sank into it, breathing each other in. Daryl’s hand clasped your face and his thumb traced the edge of your jaw gently as your lips moved in sync with his, effortless. The sensation of your hands light on his sides was enough to send him reeling with electricity.

“Thanks,” you said softly, after you finally broke apart. Daryl’s hands were landed on your hips and he gave you a questioning look. “Just—for what you said.”

“Ain’t gotta thank me. S’just the truth,” he said. He gave your hip an affectionate squeeze. “C’mon. S’late and we gotta get up early to head home. Let’s get some sleep.” He nudged his head in the direction of the door and you nodded.

You smiled as he laced his fingers with yours and tugged you back to the trailer.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl’s bike rumbled down the road and he pulled it into the garage at Aaron and Eric’s which was standing open. You were still climbing off when the door into the house burst open and Aaron and Eric both came bounding down the stairs.

Aaron reached you first and barreled into you, drawing a laugh from you as you stumbled backward a little before regaining your balance. Daryl watched the interaction with one corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you,” Aaron said, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

You patted his back. “You too,” you said fondly, smiling widely.

“Alright, quit hogging her!” Eric said, shaking his head. Aaron pulled back and gave you a warm smile before stepping aside to let Eric wrap his arms around you. “We’ve missed you,” he said.

“Missed you guys, too,” you replied, shutting your eyes and giving Eric a final squeeze.

“How’s Hilltop?” Aaron asked as you finally withdrew, glancing between you and Daryl.

Daryl shrugged. “Ready as they’ll ever be. Maggie’s got it,” he nodded. “How’re things here?”

“Ready,” Aaron said. “For the most part. We’re expecting The Saviors today thanks to your intel.”

You felt your stomach twist and you nodded. “Yeah… Hard to believe we’re really about to do this.”

“It’s time,” Eric said, looking suddenly sad. “You heard about Olivia and—and Spencer?”

You nodded. “Yeah. We heard,” you trailed off. “Olivia was sweet. That shouldn’t have happened to her, of all people. But Spencer? What the hell was he thinking?” you asked, shaking your head sadly. “He put himself right in the line of fire… he was naïve, but nobody deserves what happened to him.”

“He couldn’t handle Rick being in charge after his Mom,” Aaron said. “Thought he could do better.”

“Only someone who was completely clueless about what that means would say that,” Daryl drawled. “Ain’t an easy job, what Rick’s doin’. And he feels responsible for every damn thing that happens to everybody.”

You sighed. “That’s a lot of weight to carry around…”

“Speakin’ of,” Daryl said, glancing back over at you. “I wanna go see everybody. Check in with Rick.”

You nodded. “Go. I’m gonna catch up with these two for a bit.”

“They’re gonna wanna see ya, too,” Daryl said.

You felt your cheeks flush a little, nerves still at the idea of being brought so fully in as part of Daryl’s ‘family’. “Alright. I’ll meet you there in a little while,” you said with a nod. “Promise.”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod. “Alright. See ya soon, then. Aaron. Eric,” he said, nodding at each of them. Daryl disappeared out into the bright morning sun.

Considering what he knew was coming, Alexandria seemed quiet.

But when he pulled open the front door of the house his group shared and paced into the kitchen, he was surrounded by his chosen family. Rick placed Judith in his arms and smiled as Daryl cooed at the little girl. “It’s good to have you back,” Rick said, clasping Daryl’s shoulder when he could.

Daryl nodded. “Yah. Good to be back.” He bounced Judith a couple more times and then glanced at Carl. “Hey. Take her for a minute, would ya? I gotta talk to your dad.”

Carl accepted his baby sister and Daryl straightened Rick’s old hat on the teenager’s head, eliciting a smile.

Once Carl was out of ear shot, Daryl leaned onto the counter with his forearms and sighed heavily. “We really doin’ this?” he drawled. “Ready?”

Rick nodded. “We’re doing it. And we’re ready. Everything is set.”

“And Negan?”

Rick scowled. “I’ll take care of him when the time is right.”

Daryl stared down at the pattern of countertop for a moment. “What if I get the chance first? Or Y/N? We ain’t supposed to take it?” he asked. “If anyone deserves to put that bastard in the ground it’s her. I can’t tell her not to.”

The muscle in Rick’s jaw twitched. “Yeah… I know. But—for now? We need to knock down what he’s built first. Can’t just be him.”

“I know. But if we get a shot at him… Rick, I want him dead,” Daryl growled. “For what he did to Glenn and Abraham. For what he did to all of us. For Hilltop, for the Kingdom… but most of all for her.” The archer straightened up. “If we get the chance, no hesitation. He’s dead.”

Rick eventually nodded, a tentative agreement. He wanted to be the one who pulled the trigger on Negan, but how could he argue for you or Daryl to not get the job done if the opportunity presented itself. “Where is Y/N?” Rick asked.

“Catchin’ up with Aaron and Eric. She said she’d come by in a bit.”

“Good. That’s good…” There was the weight of many cares on his shoulders. “When they get here, I don’t want either of you two anywhere they might be able to see you,” Rick said.

“Why? They saw us yesterday at Hilltop. They already know we’re part of this.”

“I know. I just don’t want to give them an opportunity to take a shot at either of you,” he replied. “And after yesterday, at Hilltop, with what they now know? They might.”

Daryl sighed and anxiously chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Ya, about that… Negan said somethin’ yesterday. He wants Y/N alive.”

Rick stared at his friend, his brow furrowing more deeply. “Alive?”

Daryl nodded, pacing a little restlessly. “That’s what he said to his douchebag lieutenant Simon. It seemed genuine. He wants her prisoner, and I don’t think he’d kill her after he got his hands on her.” Daryl’s face darkened with rage just at the thought. “So, that means that wherever we think Negan is gonna be, Y/N needs to not be…”

Rick considered the grave expression on Daryl’s face. “Will she agree to that?”

Daryl shrugged. “I dunno. But she’s gonna have to. I ain’t puttin’ her somewhere he might be able to get his hands on her again.”

“Not sure any of us can boss Y/N around,” Rick said, a small smile curving his lips despite the grim topic.

Daryl let out an amused exhale in place of a laugh. “Ya… tell me about it.”

As if on cue, Daryl and Rick heard the front door open and soft footsteps up the hall and into the kitchen. You had a small smile for Rick and the others who were gathered in the living room. Rick returned it as you came to stand beside Daryl. “Good to see you,” Rick said. “We sorely missed having both of you around. And not just because you two can get supply runs done in record time.”

You laughed a little lightly, exchanging a look with Daryl, and nodded. “We missed being home too.”

“Listen, I was just telling Daryl—” Rick hesitated. “I don’t want either of you anywhere near the gate when they show up. I don’t want him knowing you’re here.”

You straightened up and looked at Daryl briefly. His blue eyes met yours and he nodded once to show he was onboard. “Alright,” you said, turning back to look at Rick. “We’ll hang back.” Inside, you were hoping that if Negan didn’t see you there wouldn’t be a repeat of what he had divulged loudly for everyone at Hilltop the previous day. You sighed and looked at Rick. “Once you do this today, there’s no going back. And people are going to die. Our people.”

Rick’s expression was grave, but he nodded. “I know. But if we leave it be, more people will die anyway. At his hands.”

“Yes,” you agreed. “I just want to make sure you really understand what we’re all getting into. Negan, he’s—” You broke off, unable to continue and sighed.

“I know,” Rick said forcefully. “We’ve all seen it with our own eyes.” You weren’t looking up at him. “Hey—” he said, forcing your eyes back to his. “Whatever happens isn’t gonna be on you. You told us all you had to tell. You stopped us from rushing in unprepared. And you didn’t even have to do any of that. We owe you. More than I can say. And I—” Rick pressed his hand over the center of his chest, “I’m so grateful.”

At length, you nodded. “We’ll get it done. We will. I know it.”

Daryl was looking at you in awe of your strength and he watched with a swell of happiness as Rosita grinned at you and waved from her place in the other room and you went striding over to greet her.

“Daryl.” Rick’s voice drew his eyes again. “Whatever happens… we’re fighting the good fight.” And it was then that Daryl suddenly realized that Rick was worried that perhaps you might not make it through this. And he was worried about what that would mean for the archer. It was war. Anything could happen.

Daryl straightened up to his full height and chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. “Ain’t gotta worry. Y/N and I are both making it through this. Rick, she’s—” he paused and glanced back over at you, feeling himself soften as he watched you laugh at something Rosita had said, tossing your head back, your eyes crinkled closed. “She’s stronger than me. And she makes me strong. We’re gonna be just fine.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was surprised when he woke the next morning and realized you weren’t beside him. He shot straight up in bed, his heart pounding, and that’s when he realized that he could hear the shower running and the gentle sound of you humming to yourself over the pattering of the water. He flopped back down onto the pillow and reached over to your side, wanting to see if the warmth of you was still there.

Your side of the bed was cool but Daryl could still see the shape of your body in the sheets and the impression of your head on the pillow. He heard the shower turn off in the bathroom and the sound of you opening the door and stepping out. The archer climbed out of bed and made his way over to the doorway. He leaned against the door frame, taking in the shape of your figure wrapped in a towel, a comb in your hands as you ran it through your wet hair. You finally caught sight of him in the mirror and you gave him that megawatt smile that always sent electricity jumping up his spine and his heart skipping a beat.

“Hey. Morning,” you said, turning to look at him leaning up against the doorframe.

“Ya left me alone in bed?” he drawled. “Real nice…”

A small smile still curved you lips. “I’m sorry. You were really deeply asleep still. Must have needed it. I couldn’t sleep anymore and I just really wanted a hot shower.”

Daryl left his place leaning against the doorway and walked over to you in front of the mirror. His hands landed on your hips and you felt a flush of heat in your chest and face at the contact.

“Yah. Ya didn’t invite me to that either,” he joked quietly.

One of your eyebrows quirked down low over your eyes and you gave him a look, obviously trying to read what was on his mind. “Should I have?” you asked, turning around again to glance in the mirror. Daryl’s hands stayed on your hips and you soon felt his body pressing up against yours.

“Always,” he said, his voice deep and a little gruff with sleep still. He bent and kissed the bare skin on the side of your neck. The stubble on his face was exhilarating and you felt goosebumps rising on your skin immediately. He next pressed his lips to the skin on your shoulder. He thought you smelled of lavender and vanilla. His fingers gave your hips a gentle squeeze.

You bit your bottom lip. “Daryl Dixon…” you said softly. Your tone was smoky, silky, and it drew his eyes to yours in the mirror. “What are you doing?” you asked him playfully.

One corner of his mouth twitched up but then his expression was almost serious. He gently gathered the wet strands of your hair, his fingertips sweeping your neck softly, sending another electric jolt through you. He pressed his lips to the back of your neck and pulled you back against him more tightly.

You felt your lips part slightly of their own accord and your eyes closed. You let out a small exhale and Daryl straightened up again, taking in your expression in the mirror and feeling a flame of heat growing in his chest. After a moment your eyes opened again and met his once more. “Do you know what you’re doing?” you asked quietly. Your breath and heart were increasing in pace and the tingles running through you were becoming impossible to ignore.

Daryl ducked his head a little bashfully for a moment, but only for a moment. When he caught your eyes again, he tilted his head back toward the doorway into the bedroom.

Now your heart was absolutely pounding. You broke from your gaze in the mirror and spun to face him, your brilliantly colored eyes searching his face. You peered up at him and once again Daryl was taken aback by the vulnerability he saw in your eyes. All he wanted in that moment was to wrap you up and make you truly his, show you exactly how goddamn head over heels he was for you. “Are you sure?” you said, and then you hesitated. “I mean, am I—am I reading this right?”

One of Daryl’s hands lifted from your hip and clasped your face gently. And he swept you in against him, his other hand on the small of your back, kissing you deeply and insistently. You felt your knees start to go weak but there was no chance of falling with Daryl’s arm around you, pressing your hips into his. His tongue flicked over your bottom lip and you granted him entrance, letting out a small noise of pleasure as he deepened the kiss even more.

You suddenly pulled back, your hand landing flush against his strong chest. “Wait. Wait…” you breathed, looking up into his handsome face, his blue eyes connected with yours. “Are you—is this—”

Daryl studied your expression and smiled at your hesitation as he realized you were worrying about him. He clasped your face again in both of his hands delicately, his eyes flickering between both of yours. “I’ve wanted this with ya for a long time. I just—I needed there to be other things first… I didn’t want to—to risk ruinin’ this because I rushed anythin’.”

You nodded though there was some mixture of confusion and disbelief on your face. You gently rested your hands on his sides. The lightness, the delicate quality of your touch drove him crazy…

“Hey, I—” he paused for a moment and licked his lips anxiously, his eyes never leaving yours. “Y/N, ‘M in love with you.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Daryl’s heart was pounding as he waited for your response.

The confusion and disbelief in your eyes was suddenly replaced with a wild happiness that grew, like your smile, by the moment. He felt your fingers curl more tightly into his shirt. “I love you, too,” you said. You let out a joyful laugh as you looked up at him and then immediately arched up onto your toes, crashing your lips into his again.

Daryl kissed you back eagerly, feverishly, but he pulled back suddenly leaving you wanting more. He stared down at you and you gave him a questioning look again, but were unable to stop smiling. “Can you, uhh—could ya just say that again?” he asked, a little self-consciously.

You grinned at him and looped your arms around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes. “Daryl Dixon. I’m so in love with you.”

His heart leapt to hear those words leave your lips and he crashed into you again, his arms pulling you into him and lifting you off your feet. When he set you back down, your lips didn’t separate and you pressed your hands into his strong chest, pushing him backwards into the bedroom again. You pulled his bottom lip in between your teeth, dragging them lightly over it, and smiled into the kiss as the action elicited a chesty growl from him. His fingers dug more deeply into your hips.

He broke from you for a brief moment and looked into your face. His eyes were intense, wanting. “Are ya ready for this? This okay? We don’t have to—”

You grinned at his sweetness and captured him in another fiery kiss briefly before pulling back again. “Get your damn clothes off right now,” you said breathily, grinning at him. “How is this fair? I’m already in just a towel.”

His pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth briefly and shook his head at you like he couldn’t believe this was happening. You grinned and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off over his head. Your eyes wandered over his strong shoulders and bare chest down to the V of his hips, hitching again on the scars crisscrossing his skin.

Your hands went to him immediately and you leaned into him. He gulped a little nervously, staring down at the unmistakable desire in your eyes. You wrapped your arms around him and arched up onto your toes again, your lips meeting his hungrily, and Daryl happily sank into it. Suddenly he felt your fingernails raking gently down his back and he almost shivered at the sensation. He felt the overwhelming warmth in his chest blooming outward, causing his head to go vaguely fuzzy.

Before he could even think about doing it himself, he felt the towel wrapped around you fall to the floor and suddenly his fingers were wandering over the bare shape of you, unimpeded by distracting or cumbersome fabric.

He smoothed his hands from the flared curve of your hips up the narrowing of your waist and onto the angles of your ribs. His fingers reached around your frame and felt the sharpness of your shoulder blades. You felt small beneath his hands, delicate, despite the fact that he knew you were no wilted daylily. His lips wandered from yours to leave a trail along your jaw and down your neck to your collarbone. You heaved in a small breath at the sensation. Your fingers found his waistband and soon both of you were only skin, completely reeling with the sensations of one another.

A moment later you let out a surprised gasp as Daryl picked you up as if you weighed nothing and laid you down in the bed beneath him. He leaned over you, propped up on one elbow, moving aside a strand of your hair with the other hand. You stared up at him wantingly, your lips parted and waiting again for his. His hands, a little rough but so gentle, clasped your face as he kissed you before tracing the line of your collarbone and wandering down to explore all your curves and angles. You pulled his lips back to yours and tangled your legs with his, gasping in pleasure as the two of you became one and moved in sync together effortlessly.

Daryl was sweet and gentle but needy and fiery all at once and you were both just bounding hearts and sensations, curling toes and waves of rising pleasure. He kept one hand laced with yours and couldn’t take his eyes off you beneath him as you moved together unless it was to press kisses to every part of you. You relished the feeling of his strong muscles moving beneath your fingers, and when you both finally reached the peak his lips on yours were insistent before they softened. He drew back to watch the expression on your face as the two of you came down from your high, rushing breaths and a heartbeat that was loud in your ears.

Daryl settled down beside you, his chest heaving and an arm draped over you which you rested your hand on.

“Oh my God,” you gasped breathily, glancing over at him with a starry smile on your face. You turned onto your side so you were facing him, knowing your face and cheeks were flushed. Your fingers traced over the scars on his chest and despite the afterglow you were basking in you felt a twinge of anger and sadness at what he had gone through.

“Yah,” he agreed, a smile curving his lips. “I can’t even tell ya how long I’ve wanted that.” You thought you saw a blush in his cheeks too. His hands smoothed up and down your side from your shoulder to your hip, memorizing the feeling of you.

You sighed contentedly. “Same.”

Daryl nudged his nose up at you and you gladly acquiesced and pressed your lips to his softly, clasping his face and running your thumb along the line of his strong jaw. You watched his blue eyes open and you drank in the softness in them. His hand came to rest on your hip and his thumb drew absent strokes on your soft skin. You pressed a hand flat to his chest so you could feel the racing of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath.

“Wish we could stay here like this forever,” you said softly.

“Mhm. Me too. We can for a while though at least,” he drawled, moving closer to you again so he could feel your weight and your warmth. You draped your arm over him, the tips of your fingers brushing his back. Daryl watched you fondly as you settled in against him and closed your eyes.

At that moment, it was hard to believe anything could ever break the sense of fulfillment and peace both of you had.

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Invisible String

Camp counselor Colin Shea x reader. (Everyone is of age). Warnings! Loss of virginity, oral sex (m/f), m/f sex, angst, fluffy fluff. Colin's friends are jerks. Religious ideology.

Word count: 6879 All mistakes are my own. This is my first time writing for Colin. I hope I did him justice. Feedback and love is highly encouraged.

Another school year has come and gone and now you’re on your way to camp. You have been a camper at Camp Abbey since you were twelve years old. Now, you were old enough to be a counselor. All counselors had to report for orientation the week before campers arrived. You were excited to see your friends Beth and Olivia. This would be the first time you would see each other since you left for school. The three of you were thick as thieves.

You checked the group message to see that they had already made it. You ran to your bunk and all three of you screamed in excitement. “Oh my goodness, girls. I’m so happy to see you!”

“Kit, you look amazing. That Texas heat agrees with you. Speaking of heat, have you lost it yet?” Your cheeks heated. Olivia lost her virginity last summer before she left for school on the east coast. She swore she wouldn’t start college a white panty wearing virgin. Beth lost her virginity at a frat party two weeks into the start of the semester. You had gone the whole year with no more than a kiss. Not that there weren’t offers. You just put the Christian in Texas Christian University.

“No, you jezebel. You know I’m waiting for marriage. I promised my daddy.” Your daddy made you promise him you’d stay pure until marriage in front of his whole damned flock. Being the daughter of the pastor was hard enough. No boy ever looked your way.

“Girl, your daddy isn’t around. It’s officially hot girl summer. We’re getting you laid before the end of camp.”

“Livi, you are too much.” Your cheeks flushed crimson.

“You know when she gets an idea in her head she’s like an ol’ huntin dog.” Beth usually agreed with you but in this instance, she joined Olivia’s quest. You rolled your eyes but secretly wished they would make good on their promise. The horn sounded to start your work day.

All of the counselors gathered in the great hall to get their troop roster and work assignments. After lunch you were to report to your work site. You were lucky enough to get lifeguard duty.

Some of the boys carried ropes and other equipment while the girls grabbed the CPR dummies. Olivia was also assigned to lifeguard duty. She was the strongest swimmer on your country club’s swim team. She also had the loudest voice and didn’t need the whistle.

Every guy out there was good looking. When they started taking off their shirts your mouth went dry. “Like shooting fish in a barrel. Which one do you like? I’ll hit him over the head.”

“Stop. Pay attention. You never know when we have to save a life.” The group lined up and counted off so you could pair up. Olivia made sure to position you to perfectly line up with Colin Shea. He was a year older in his second year at Savannah College of Art and Design. He’s studying architecture and has been your crush since freshman year. He also didn’t know you existed.

“Hi. I’m Colin, your life saving buddy. And you are?” He extended his hand flashing you a devastating smile.

You blurted out, “Y/n. But all my friends call me Kit. It’s short for Kitten. That’s what my daddy calls me.” Olivia glared at you trying to get you to shut up. This was going to be harder than she thought.

He looked you up and down, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing. “Oh you’re serious! Well, little kitten, let’s save our drowning victim.” You didn’t know why but, when he called you “little kitten” your lady bits tingled. You squeezed your thighs together when he placed his hand on the small of your back.

You listened intently to the instructor but Colin watched you. When you bent over the dummy his cock twitched at the sight of your perfect ass. He was staring so hard he didn’t hear the instructor calling his name. “Shea! You with us?” You looked at him over your shoulder confused. He could have died right there. Everyone laughed when he finally snapped out of it.

“Sorry!” He shook it off and refocused. He promised himself that he would not repeat his mistakes of last summer. He hooked up with a girl the first week of camp. The pair were hot and heavy all summer. By the fall she went back to school and completely ghosted him. He didn’t expect to have a long distance relationship or anything. He also didn’t expect to be so hurt over it. But that didn’t matter now. He was going to have fun this summer and smash as much pussy as possible even if it killed him.

********************************************************

Orientation week was a blur. Everyone worked so hard getting the camp ready. After dinner always turned into a party but you never participated. You turned in as soon as people started making out by the fire. It made you very uncomfortable. Besides, arrival day was always chaotic.

Colin caught up with you on the way to your bunk. “Little kitten little kitten. Where are you going?” He came out of nowhere scaring the wits out of you.

“Going to bed. Which all of you should be doing. Campers start arriving at 7:00.”

“Oh come on. It’s our last night of freedom for a while. Come to the bonfire. Live a little.”

“No, thank you. I know what happens at the bonfire. You have fun though.” You were literally the only girl who rejected him so far. You couldn’t possibly be that good.

“Please. I’ll be the perfect gentleman. Scouts honor.” He stuck out his full bottom lip and gave you the most comically sad eyes.

You giggled, “Goodnight, Colin.” You leaned against your door and let out the breath you were holding. You and Colin have been sort of flirting the whole week. He was genuine and sweet. He didn’t outwardly hit on you but you could tell he was flirting. Was he? Or was he just being nice?

You had no idea how to flirt with a boy. Not really. Your mom was the youth group leader at your church. So, even in more social settings, no one dared talk to you. You weren’t a complete recluse during highschool. Your parents allowed you to go out with friends after football games but you had to be home at 10:00. The first few weeks you were away at school, your dad would FaceTime you faithfully at 10:00 to make sure you were in your room. You weren’t totally innocent. If there was a good party somewhere you would go out after he called.

You had your first real kiss at a Chi Omega party. Your roommate begged you to go. After three shots of Fireball you were ready for anything. A pledge started hitting on you. You danced which was great. He very sweetly pulled you in for a kiss. Fireworks went off in your brain. His hands traveled down your back landing on your ass. When he squeezed it felt like hot lava was seeping from your core. You were so turned on you could have kept going. But that’s what your dad preached about. Your flesh was talking louder than your heart and you had to end it. You went to confession the next day. Nothing that a few Hail Mary’s couldn’t fix.

Colin didn’t have to touch you to make you feel that way. When he smiled at you, your whole body tingled. You so badly wanted his hands on you. Wanted to press your body against his. To feel his warm flesh against yours. You almost opened the door. Almost went after him. Lust was taking over. It was speaking directly to your pussy telling her to wake up and go after that boy. You had to silence that voice dripping with need. You hit your knees, made the sign of the cross and begged God for forgiveness. “Bless me, Father. For I have sinned. I want Colin Shea so badly, I cannot think of anything else. Please, Lord, guide me to the path of righteousness….” You prayed for almost an hour. Only when your body was wracked with exhaustion did you crawl into bed and drift off into a restless sleep.

********************************************************

The next morning you showered and headed to breakfast. You barely slept. You found the coffee and thought of just sticking a straw directly in the pot. Olivia and Beth were nowhere to be found. Probably still asleep. Colin came in looking much better than he deserved.

“Morning, little kitten.” He said against your ear. Your whole body shivered. When you turned to look at him he whistled, “Damn, Kit. You look like crap. Did you go to the party?”

“No. I just couldn’t sleep. Why do you look so rested?”

“Because I am. When you turned me down, I went to bed. I took your advice.” He handed you a pair of sunglasses, “For later. Don’t want you frightening the children.”

“Haha. Very funny, Shea.”

“Shea? I didn’t know we were on a last name only basis.” he leaned in to whisper, “You’re still my little kitten.” He winked and took off leaving you standing in the middle of the cafeteria with a flood in your pants.

He sat with a few of his friends who watched the whole interaction. “Is she still looking?” His friend Derek looked over his shoulder to see you standing there dumbfounded.

“Yep. What’d you say to her?”

“None of your business.”

“She’s fine as hell. Are you two hooking up?”

Colin didn’t look up from his plate, “Also none of your business.”

“That means no!” Alex teased.

“No, dick for brains. It means not yet. Olivia said she’s a virgin. Gotta play the long game with this one.”

Derek snorted, “Yeah and if you’re lucky you two will be dry humping by the end of the second session.”

“Ok. Bet. I fuck her before break and you two pay me $200 each. I don’t, I pay you. Deal?”

“Easiest $200 I’ll ever make.” Derek and Alex high fived. Colin instantly felt guilty. He really liked you. What kind of shit head was he? He would never pressure you into anything. Didn’t mean he didn’t want to at least try.

********************************************************

The morning was dragging. You kept Colin’s sunglasses on all day and drank ice water trying to stay awake. You sat silently save for the few times you had to blow your whistle. “Goodness, why is it so hot?”

“Maybe it’s that cotton poly blend you keep on. Where’s your swimsuit?”

“Underneath.”

“Take your shirt off.” Your cheeks heated. “I’m not trying to see anything. You’ll be more comfortable.” At first you ignored him. But, when you felt sweat trickle down the nape of your neck, you couldn’t take it anymore. As soon as you lifted it over your head he whistled.

“Stop, jerk!” You swatted at him.

“Ok ok! I’m sorry. I’m just playing with you.” He looked away while you poured cold water on your neck. You had no idea how beautiful you were. His eyes followed a drop of water down your spine and disappeared inside your swimsuit. His dick nudged awake with the sinful thoughts running through his head. He adjusted his pants to hide his arousal.

The next pair of lifeguards arrived to relieve you for lunch. Since all of your friends were working you ate lunch together.

“So, what does one do for fun at TCU? Bible study? Purity pledges?” He stole a grape out of your fruit cup and threw it into his mouth.

“I mean, yeah. But there are parties and Greek life.”

“Oh nice. You’re in a sorority? Which one?”

“Phi Mu. How about you?”

“Nah. That’s not really my thing. But really…you do all that Bible shit? Aren't the preacher's daughters supposed to go buck wild when they leave home?”

You laughed half heartedly, “I know lots of girls who went crazy their first year at school. They end up heartbroken and full of STDs. I don’t intend on going down that road.”

“What’s more scary? Heartbreak or VD?”

“Heartbreak. I’m afraid I’ll sit on one dick and end up falling in love. Love is more scary to me than sex. I want to find the right person.”

“You’re 19. Do you intend to wait until you fall in love?” Your eyes began to dance and well up with tears. You wanted to pop your cherry. Just get it out of the way. You couldn’t do it with just anyone.

“At least someone whom I find trustworthy. Someone who won’t take advantage of my inexperience. Maybe he won’t need to love me but I’d like him to at least respect me and my feelings.”

Now Colin felt sick. He was going to call off the bet with Derek and Alex. You didn’t deserve to be treated this way.

********************************************************

In no time you and Colin were fast friends. You had deep meaningful conversations while you were watching out for drowning children. You always chose him as your field trip buddy. He played guitar during campfire time. It was adorable how all the preteen girls drooled over him. When he would catch you staring he would wink and flash you that million dollar smile. You two were openly flirting. You were ready to take a step with him but felt so scared that you wouldn’t stop.

Parents weekend was coming up which meant all the counselors got a much needed break. There was going to be a big party. You debated on whether or not you should go.

“Oh come on, Kit. Just come. Hang out. It’ll be really low key.” Olivia always got her way with you.

“Fine. But I’m not getting drunk.”

“You don’t have to get drunk. Just come and have a good time. Livi and I will take good care of you.”

“And if you happen to fall into Colin’s lap, c’est la vie!” The two of them were plotting. You could always tell. You have held your ground in the past. You can do it again. Even if Colin was like the guy of your dreams.

One of the counselor’s parents had a house nearby. The music was loud, everyone was in the pool and the drinks were flowing. Someone made a disgusting “punch” in a big ice chest. You were fairly certain you saw a guy stirring it with his arm. It was to be avoided at all costs.

You were a couple of drinks in when you spotted Colin. He was playing Mario Kart with Derek. You grabbed a fresh beer and chugged before you made your way over. “I got next.”

Colin smirked at you,”You don’t want any of this, little kitten. I will literally destroy you. Just like how I’m gonna destroy Derek right now!” He jerked the wheel, sending Luigi flying. “That’s what you get, son!”

“Good luck, Kit. Drunk Mario Kart is his super power.”

You took your seat on the floor and started a new game. “Ok, little kitten. Let’s see whacha got.” You chose Toadette as your racer and hit him with banana peels right from the jump. You were a Mario Kart master. He trashed talked you the entire time. Both of you were cracking up laughing. You won your first race which sent him into a tizzy but he still high fived you. “Mother fucker! Let’s go again. Best of three. Winner takes all.”

“Ok so when I win you have to do an early shift with me for a week.” The alcohol was making you a lot braver than normal.

“Oh ho ho. So cocky. So confident. Let’s up the stakes. When I win, you let me kiss you.” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you say, little kitten?”

“Deal!” You shook on it and started a new game. Beth was behind you crossing her fingers for you to lose.

The first lap was intense. You kept hitting him with oil slicks to slow him down. “I don’t know if you’re just ultra competitive or if you really don’t want to kiss me. Mother! How do you keep getting shells?!”

“Lose.” Beth coughed behind you. “You’re emasculating him. Lose.” Heat bloomed in your cheeks as you let him take the lead. You couldn’t completely take a dive. It would be too obvious.

“Oh! And the master wins. That’s one for you, one for me.”

“I hope you like waking up at six.”

“I hope you think I’m a good kisser.” He elbowed you on your side, “Spoiler alert. I am a good kisser.”

In the last round the trash talk escalated. “You’re going down, Shea! I should add trash duty to this bet.”

“You’re so sure you’re gonna win? Fine. I get second base if I win.”

“Hold on!”

“Nope. You upped the ante first. If you want out, just say ‘Colin Shea is the master at Mario Kart’ and you’ll be out of the bet. And you still have to kiss me.”

“That’s cheating!”

“No. You back out, I still get to collect. I don’t make the rules, honey.”

“You literally just did.” You stared each other down, “Deal.” You hit start and the race began. You gave him a run for his money but he won fair and square. He jumped up, tossing the controller on the floor.

“I am the master! I’ll be collecting my winnings now.”

“Wait….” You held up your hands to push him away. Your face was very serious. He saw how uncomfortable you were and calmed down to meet your energy. “Can we do this somewhere else. More private?”

“Of course. You ok? If you’re not ok we don’t have to….”

“No!” You stopped him, “I want to. Just not here.” He took your hand and led you to an area of the yard far from people. You couldn’t meet his eyes you felt so embarrassed. “I’ve never….I haven’t….you know I’m a virgin.”

“I know. But you’ve done stuff right?”

“Only a kiss.” Your skin flushed down your neck and splotched on to your chest. You wished you could disappear.

“Singular? As in one kiss your whole life?” He was in shock. “I would really like to kiss you, little kitten. But if this is too much for you I will stop.”

“Please kiss me.” He tentatively pressed his lips to yours. He only applied a bit of pressure at first. His big hands splayed across your back gently pulling you closer. His tongue caressed your upper lip then deepened. What was only a second felt like an eternity that you never wanted to end.

“Was that ok?” You nodded. “Can I do it again?” You ran your hands up his biceps and around his neck. Up on your tiptoes to meet him you firmly pressed your lips to his. He took this as an invitation to really go for it. You moaned softly feeling the flood of arousal seep out of your core. He cupped your cheek peppering tiny kisses on your cheeks, nose and forehead.

“Well you didn’t lie, Shea. You are a very good kisser.”

“Told you.” You stayed warm in each other’s embrace swaying to music that wasn’t playing. “I want to kiss you again.” This time the kiss was much more intense. It was an intoxicating sort of kiss that made you forget where you were for a moment. His hand traveled from your hip to the waistband of your shirt. He placed his palm on your bare flesh and you froze.

“Stop.” You pulled away fast. Colin held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. I just became very aware this was leading somewhere.”

“It’s ok. We’ll go as slow as you want.”

“A bet’s a bet. Second base. Over the bikini top only.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss you again. His hand found its way under your shirt and up to your breasts. He let his hand skate over the slick material teasing your nipples to stiff points. You whined and whimpered as he worked you over with his mouth. Without thinking, you moved to straddle him. The pressure building in your pussy was too much. You pressed down on his clothed cock. He pushed his hips up and fucked into you. Without warning the ache gave way to warmth flooding out of you soaking your swimsuit. Your face was red. Sweat glistened on your brow. That had never happened to you before. You were suddenly very embarrassed and broke the kiss. “That was….I don’t know what just happened.”

“Was that the first time you’ve ever had an orgasm?” Colin was breathless and needy to cum. Thinking of how tight your cunt must be nearly made him blow his load right there. He continued to kiss down your neck. “How do you feel?”

“Like I want to do that again.” You hid your face in your hands. “But I want you inside of me.”

“Now? Like right here?” This was a lot of responsibility. To be your first? He’s been a lot of girls firsts. This means so much to you. It almost felt wrong. Like it should be happening in a meadow in the middle of spring not in some girl’s backyard.

You nodded your head, “I want you, Colin.” Your pupils were lust blown. You were panting and needy for him to fill you up. “I trust you.”

He wished you hadn’t said that. Heaven help him he wanted to fuck you. Ruin your pussy for any future sexual experience. He had to be gentle with you. But, a bet’s a bet. He will hate himself tomorrow. “If anything hurts or you don’t want this, tell me to stop. Promise?”

“I promise.” You kissed again more passionately this time. He moved your swimsuit aside and teased your already sensitive bud. Carefully he slipped a finger inside. When you didn’t protest he fucked you with a second finger. He stretched you out getting you ready for him.

“Does that feel good, little kitten? You’re taking my fingers so well. Cum again for me, baby.” You moaned his name in his ear. “You sound so pretty, kitten. Sing for me.” You were a goner. He helped you ride out your high and then laid you on the grass. You took off your bottoms and spread for him. His dripping cock sprung free from his trunks. He lined it up with your hole coating it with your slick. “I’m gonna go really slow. If it hurts I’ll stop.” It was painful at first getting used to his girth. Mascara stained tears spilled down your cheeks. It wasn’t so much painful as it was intensely pleasurable. When he bottomed out you threw your head back as a violent orgasm ripped through your body.

Like an absolute piece of shit he took out his phone and sent a ten second video of you moaning like a whore to Derek and Alex. He threw it to the side and began to move. It wasn’t long before he met his end. ”You’re so tight, kitten. Feels so good.” He pulled out and fisted his cock painting you with hot ropes of his release.

You cleaned up and went back to the party. It was when you got closer to the house that you heard your voice playing from the speakers. Everyone started clapping. Olivia and Beth rushed to your side to get you out of there. “You really are an asshole.” Beth pushed Colin away when he tried to say something to you.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Colin got in Derek’s face knowing full and well it was him.

“I believe this is your $400, sir” Colin threw the wad of cash into his face and sucker punched him.

“You’re a miserable piece of shit. Go fuck yourself.” He ran off after you. “Kit! Wait!”

“How could you? After I told you I was scared. You promised me.”

“I know. It was a stupid bet. I’m so sorry.” A bet. A fucking bet. He didn’t want you. You were crushed.

“How much was I worth? How much was my promise to my father and to God worth?”

“Kit…” He tried to reach for you but you pulled away. He stared into your red rimmed eyes unable to speak. His voice cracked, “$400. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else I can say.” You slapped him so hard across the face his head snapped back.

Your friends got you in the car and sped away back to camp.

********************************************************

Colin looked for you at breakfast the next morning. He spotted Olivia and Beth. “Where is she?”

“Fuck off, Shea.” Olivia was about to stab him with her fork.

“I texted her all night. Tried calling. I know I don’t deserve her forgiveness but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to earn it.”

Beth was the softy who believed in love stories and second chances. “She went home this morning. She was too embarrassed to come back.”

“Seriously, Shea. I hope you’re satisfied with yourself.”

“I didn’t do this!”

“So someone else took the video?!” Olivia was in his face unwilling to back down.

“How do I make this up to her?”

“You stole her virtue and it was all a big joke to you. You can’t give that back.” Fuck he hated himself.

“Text me her address!”

“What are you going to say to her?” Beth called after him.

“I don’t know. I have two hours to figure it out.”

******************************************************

You pulled into town and went right to the church. Your mama was there setting up for youth group. You felt ashamed to even walk into God’s house after what you had done. You made the sign of the cross when you crossed the threshold hoping you wouldn’t burst into flames.

“Hey, mama.”

“Baby! What are you doing here?” You broke down in tears. “Oh my. What happened?” You told her the whole story. She didn’t get upset or pass judgement. She patted your back and let you speak.

“I’m sorry, mama. Are you gonna tell daddy?”

“Of course not. It’s just between me and you. And you have nothing to be sorry for. You’re a grown woman. I don’t believe in some archaic rule of waiting until marriage. You wait until you find someone who you trust and has trust in you. Did he treat you with respect while you were together?”

“Yes, mama. He was so sweet and gentle.”

“So he made a mistake under peer pressure. I’m not saying to forgive him. What he did was terrible. Boys are idiots. I’m sure he didn’t intend for this to happen. He’s just dumb.” You both laughed and you started to feel better.

You went home and finally turned on your phone. Colin must have texted you a hundred times. He begged for your understanding. Pleaded with you to at least hear him out. In the last text he said he would be at your house in thirty minutes. You checked his location and saw he was close. Shit.

You made some iced tea and sat on the porch waiting for him. He pulled in your driveway like a bat out of hell. He was trying to get out of his car so fast he didn’t unfasten his seatbelt. You couldn’t hide your amusement at the state he was in.

“Hi. Can I sit? That for me?” He pointed to the glass of tea that was sweating on the tray. He drained the glass in a big gulp. You poured him another. “Thank you. Look, Kit. I’m an idiot.”

“A big one.”

“I shouldn’t have even made that bet. It was wrong. I took advantage of your good nature and I’ll never make that mistake again. But I don’t regret what we did.”

“Neither do I. I quite enjoyed it.” You looked away to hide your smile.

“Oh yeah? Not bad for your first time.” He started to sit on the swing next to you but you gave him a pointed look so he dropped to his knees in front of you. “What can I do? How can I get back in your good graces?”

“Come to the youth group tonight. We can use a guitarist.” You went inside leaving him confused on the porch.

“And then we’ll be ok?” He yelled through the screen.

“Not even close.”

********************************************************

Neither of you went back to camp. You were both humiliated. Unbeknownst to you, your mother called the camp director and had Derek and Alex fired.

For the rest of the summer, Colin followed you around like a sinner serving his penance. He helped you during the week of vacation Bible camp. He was even more adorable with younger children. He helped your father with maintenance projects around the church. You also ensured he went home every night right on time for dinner with his parents and siblings. “You can call me after you help your mother clean the kitchen.” You were going to make a respectable boy out of him yet. At the end of each day he was happily exhausted.

********************************************************

The end of summer was creeping up on you. Neither of you wanted to face the fact that you’d be leaving for Texas in a few days. Two days after you leave, he’s due in Georgia. You made grandiose plans for meeting up at a halfway point in Louisiana or Alabama. Maybe go to the beach for Spring Break. That seemed so far away. Your family generally travels for Thanksgiving. His family travels during Christmas. Long distance seemed feasible in theory but not in practice. He wanted your last night to be special no matter what.

There was an old rotten gazebo down by the lake that he had spent his free time rebuilding. He strung it up with twinkling lights and put blankets down. He surprised you with a picnic of Tacobell and beer because he burnt the dinner he was trying to make. It was perfect.

You cuddled together looking at the inky night sky saying nothing and everything all at once. He hadn’t attempted to touch you at all save for a kiss on the cheek here and there. Tonight, both of you felt an electric spark passing between you. You wanted to kiss him but didn’t want to seem so eager. You laid on his chest while he rubbed circles on your back. Neither of you would be sad if it ended this way. Ever since you met all you wanted was to be close to one another.

On the other hand, you felt like you might combust if he didn’t touch you properly. He wouldn’t dare make a move without your say. You would have to be the one. You sat up and kissed him right over his heart. You felt it beating frantically against his chest.

“Thank you for tonight.”

“My pleasure. I hate this. I hate that we have to say goodbye tomorrow.”

“I know. You can always transfer. A&M is less than three hours away from TCU.”

“I could. It’s worth looking into. I’m gonna miss you so much, baby.” He let out a big sigh and pulled you closer. Your hand traced patterns on his chest then down his belly to the very obvious bulge in his pants. He sucked in a breath when you squeezed. “Kit, can I tell you something?”

“Of course.” You kept rubbing, deepening the pressure a little.

“Shit that feels good. I kept the video I took. I tried deleting it a million times but I can’t bring myself to do it. You looked so fucking beautiful falling apart on my cock. I jerk off to it every night.” His confession made you feral. You crawled between his legs and freed his aching cock from his pants. You licked a stripe up the shaft and sucked the tip making sure to gather all of the precum. He had to concentrate really hard to hold still then you took the whole burning thing in your mouth. You gagged a little, making him growl deep in his chest. “Fuck you’re so good at this.”

You let him go with a pop, “Thanks. I’ve been practicing.”

“Oh. My. God. Are you serious? You’re amazing. You gotta stop or I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

“That’s the point.” You rolled his balls in your palm and sucked him deep in your throat. Every time the tip of your nose hit his pubic bone he wanted to cry.

“Fuck I love you.” he said through gritted teeth.

You stilled your movements. “That’s the first time you ever said that to me.” You inhaled him again, hollowing your cheeks. Your mouth made lewd sloppy sounds as you sucked him harder. You felt his cock twitch and his balls tighten them, his hot spend filling your throat. He pulled you into his arms, relishing the ghost of his own release on your tongue.

“I love you too.” you said in a hoarse whisper.

You kissed with abandon. Kissed like you would never see each other again. Maybe you won't after tomorrow. You’d be a fond memory of a glorious summer where the two of you fell in love. If that was the case, Colin intended on this memory being the best you’ll ever have.

He rolled you to your back and kissed, sucked and nibbled his way down to your weeping cunt. He helped you wiggle out of your shorts and panties. You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him. He laved his tongue over your lips and dipped in just a bit. Two fingers fucked you while he sucked your tiny pearl. “You’re so wet for me, little kitten. No one is around for miles. Tell me how you feel.” You moaned his name so loud you were sure God Himself heard you.

“Please fuck me. I need you, Col. Please.”

“Does my little kitten want me to fill her up? Wanna feel my cock, baby? You have to cum for me first. I’m not stopping til you do.” He slipped in a third finger and fucked in only as deep as the spongy spot inside. He curled his fingers and flicked his tongue over your clit hard. You nearly levitated.

He sat up and pulled your legs onto his shoulders. In one swift motion he was inside of you. He went painfully slow letting his cock feel every inch of you. Your walls clamped onto him tight bringing him close to the end. He didn’t want to finish. Not yet. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me when you go back to school?”

“Mmmmm. Yes, baby. Such a good girl.” His thumb circled your clit. It was excruciating.

“Gonna let anyone else touch this sweet pussy?”

“No, baby. It’s only for you. Please go faster. M’gonna cum again. Please, baby.”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” His hips snapped, sending you over the edge. This must surely be what heaven feels like. He wasn’t far behind. You laid there panting covered in his cum. It was just about the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

You got dressed and checked the time. You had thirty more minutes until you had to head home. You held each other for as long as you could.

********************************************************

The next morning he helped you pack your car. You had to hit the road to make it to school before dark. You kissed your parents goodbye promising you’d check in several times. Your mama pulled your daddy in the house to give you some privacy.

“Did you check your tire pressure? Oil’s good? Maybe I should check one more time.”

“Colin, you checked three times already. Thank you for worrying about me. I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“Me too.” You kissed one more time. “I love you, my little kitten.”

“Love you too. I’ll check in. Please extend me the same courtesy when you leave.”

“Yes, ma’am.” One more hug and then you left. He watched you go until you disappeared around the corner.

**********************************************************************************************************

You talked every day until midterms. The calls became less frequent. By the time Thanksgiving rolled around you were lucky if you talked once a week. You saw him for one day over Christmas break before he left for Boston to see his grandparents. You exchanged presents and made cookies. Of course, as soon as your parents went to bed, you fucked like mad in the car. Before you went back for the spring semester you ended things. It was for the best. If the two of you were meant to be, you’d find each other again. You promised to stay friends which you did. He talked you off a cliff when you were struggling through finals. And, for years out of habit, you would text him any time you were out to let him know you made it home safely.

Things sort of dissipated after a while. He stopped going home over the summer. Your visits were shorter and shorter. On one such visit, his parents stopped you after church to say hello.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs.Shea. So good to see you. How is everyone?” His mother gave you a knowing smile. You were only interested in one family member.

“Doing well. Colin is graduating in a few weeks. He asks about you all the time. You should call him.” Your cheeks flushed. She patted your hand. “He’s never stopped thinking about you.” You kissed them both and pulled out your phone to do as she suggested. It took a few hours but he finally texted you back an emoji. The flutter in your heart died down and you decided to finally move on.

After his graduation, Colin took a job at an architectural firm in Boston. You finished a semester early and started nursing school in New Orleans. You started dating a really sweet guy. Every time you posted a picture of the two of you, Colin liked it. Once he sent you a DM just to say “You look great, Kit. So happy for you. Hope you’re doing well.” It was sweet that he reached out. You were on his mind a lot more than he’d care to admit. Just like he was always sort of with you.

It wasn’t long before he announced his engagement via Instagram. You were crazy happy for him. She looked like a nice girl. Turns out your hard work paid off and you did make him a respectable guy.

You graduated and stayed in New Orleans working as a NICU nurse. Mardi Gras rolled around and you were out with friends when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

“Kit?!” It was like seeing a ghost.

“Is that Colin Shea? What are you doing here?” He bear hugged you.

“I’ve never been to Mardi Gras. This is nuts. Your mom said you live down here?”

“Yeah. A few years now.” You glanced at his finger and didn’t see a ring. “How’s Boston? I saw you were engaged. Congratulations by the way.”

“Thanks. Boston’s cold. Was. Past tense. As in we broke up.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You should be. It’s your fault.”

“My fault?! What did I do?”

“You ruined me for all other women. I didn’t come down here for vacation. I went home for a few days. My younger sister got married. Anyway, I ran into your parents. We got to talking and your mother convinced me to find you. Your Instagram stories lead me here. Please tell me you’re single.”

All the years you had Colin tucked inside your heart, you were in his too. His former fiance was a perfectly nice girl. She came from a nice family. Something was missing from her and every other girl he dated. None of them had a heart as big as yours. For a long time he tried to forget you. Pining after you all these years was ridiculous. Turns out, when you give your heart to someone for the first time, there’s a part of you that stays connected. And, for better or worse, that invisible string is always there guiding you through new relationships, reminding you about who you were when you were with that person. You learn from the past. Colin learned that you were the only future he had ever wanted. And.this time the string guided you back together.

“She may as well be a nun!” Your friend Betsy hollered across the balcony.

“You ruined me too. How long are you in town?” Tears formed in your eyes.

“Until Thursday.” He bit his lip saying a silent payer that you’d at least spend a few days with him.

“You still a good kisser?” His face split from worry to relief.

“I think so.”

“Well you’ve seen Mardi Gras. Let’s go back to my house. I’ll cook you dinner.” You took his hand and led him home where he would be happy to stay for the rest of his life.

[insanityclause]

There’s a moment that every child who aspires to movie stardom dreams about. They practise it in front of the mirror: graciously thanking their parents, their first drama teacher, their favourite hamster; smiling; waving; trying valiantly to cry. No, it’s not an Oscar’s acceptance speech – at least, not anymore; it’s the moment that super-producer Kevin Feige offers you his hand across a conference table and tells you you’ve landed a Marvel movie.

Yesterday came the first reports that Olivia Colman is in talks to slip into full-body lycra and join the MCU, via the studio’s next small-screen series Secret Invasion. The news follows a recent clutch of arrivals of actresses of a similar age and calibre to Colman to other Marvel projects, including Kathryn Hahn’s show-stealing turn in WandaVision, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ surprise appearance in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Such casting choices may once have sounded insane. Why would the woman who just two years ago won an Academy Award for her grief-stricken, crumbling performance as Queen Anne in The Favourite, and who is up for another one this weekend for The Father, choose to submerge her pristine brand as the reigning monarch of British acting, both on-screen and off-, in a barrel of brightly-coloured, pop-sountracked, quippy-scripted comic bookery?

Secret Invasion sounds even more deranged than the average Marvel project: it will likely focus on the race of green, reptilian aliens called Skrulls (Ben Mendelsohn will reprise his role as Skrull commander Talos from Captain Marvel), as they invade earth by shapeshifting to imitate superheroes. Colman as an alien reptile? It’s hard to think of a more unlikely piece of casting since Judi Dench dressed up in a catsuit.

But over the last decade, a foundational piece of Marvel’s strategy has been signing-on not just fresh-faced stars like Chris Evans and Tom Holland, but some of the world’s most serious performers: inde darlings (Mark Ruffalo, Tilda Swinton, Brie Larson), BBC-drama-grown Brits (Tom Hiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch) and awards-laden  powerhouses (Annette Bening, Scarlett Johansson, and even Anthony Hopkins, Colman’s co-star in The Father, who is also up for an Oscar) have all rocked up in the MCU. Much as the Harry Potter franchise once was, the films have become a who’s who of Oscar after-party invite lists.

So why would the great and good of Hollywood acting willingly attach themselves to a franchise that one of the greatest directors of all time not so long ago declared to bear a greater resemblance to theme park rides than cinema? Marvel films are delightful but they are also frequently silly (inevitably, in the transition from cartoon comic book drawings to full-sized, three-dimensional adults leaping around on-camera dressed in skin-tight lycra suits and capes, some space for ridicule is opened up).

The studio is fully aware of this, which is why these films are comedies, but that does not make them any more obvious as vehicles for artists interested in rendering psychological depth on-screen. In 2012, Kiwi wunderkind director Taika Watiti told Interview magazine that he was suspicious of the way feature films can often “turn into commodities”. Yet five years later, his own Marvel movie, Thor: Ragnarok, hit cinemas.

The financial incentives to any actor are obvious and no doubt play a part but there is something even more valuable to someone like Benedict Cumberbatch – not exactly strapped-for-cash following Sherlock, The Imitation Game, and The Hobbit films – inextricably wound-up with those mega pay packages. That something is audience size. Avengers: Endgame, the highest-grossing film of all time until Avatar’s re-release in China in March last year, took $357 million at the domestic box office on its opening weekend.

In America, the average price of a cinema ticket that year was about $9  – that means, by the roughest of calculations, that within 48 hours of the film’s release, 12% of the population, or some 40 million people, had seen the film. An actress like Colman has not exactly been confined to niche audiences – The Crown is not a small show – but even so, the prospect of such unparalleled exposure must be seductive.

The dream of a Marvel movie has not replaced the dream of an Oscar – it all but guarantees it. A symbiotic relationship is emerging between the franchise and the Academy, as the popular reach of one feeds and is elevated by the prestige of the other. There is no better example of this than the tragically-curtailed career of the late Chadwick Boseman.

From a handful of critically-lauded but quietly received biopics (42, Get on Up), he was propelled overnight to global stardom by his MCU roles as Black Panther, Marvel’s first black superhero, culminating in the Black Panther film in 2018. Now, just months after his death from cancer, he is a shoo-in to win a Best Actor award this week for his role in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. The opposite of a Marvel film in almost every sense – it’s claustrophobic, literary (it’s based on an August Wilson play), and tragic – it was Black Panther nonetheless that secured him the part.

This give-and-take between superhero flicks and prestige dramas extends beyond actors: Watiti, who has just wrapped shooting on another Thor film, was nominated for an Oscar in 2019 for his German Resistance drama Jojo Rabbit, while Chloé Zhao, who is sure to win Best Director this weekend for Nomadland, has just wrapped her own Marvel movie, Eternals, which is slated for release in November.

Kathryn Hahn, meanwhile, was brought into WandaVision by director Matt Shakman, better known for directing prestige shows like Mad Men and Succession. His vision, in collaboration with the writer Jac Schaeffer, led to a formally wildly innovative show, providing the opportunity for Hahn and the show’s pair of stars Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany – both outstanding actors – to flex their comic and creative muscles. Such starpower behind the camera is itself an attraction for actors of Colman’s calibre, and while there is as yet no word on who will direct Secret Invasion, there are many exciting possible names in the mix.

A few powerhouse industry figures were instrumental in fostering this mutually-beneficial relationship. The first was Robert Downey Jr, the original posterboy of the franchise. When he agreed to star in the first film, 2008’s Iron Man, it was a huge gamble – director Jon Favreau had to battle the studio to accept him – as he emerged from a wilderness decade marred by drug addiction, but it was also a huge coup. Downey Jr had just been nominated for an Oscar for Ben Stiller’s comedy Tropic Thunder and had recently starred in David Fincher’s instant cult-classic Zodiac; his personal reputation may have been in tatters, but as a serious actor, he brought chops.

His Iron Man would become the emotional and dramatic heart of the franchise over its next three phases. Kenneth Branagh, who directed the 2011 film Thor, also bridged the gap between the big flashy studio and his own thespy circle: he brought his protégé Tom Hiddleston, who at that point was best known for his British TV and theatre work, onboard to play Loki, a decision that Feige apparently described as the most important the studio would ever make. Hiddleston capitalised on rather than abandoned his roots: he approached the character like “a comic book version of Edmund in King Lear, but nastier.” It paid off: Hiddleston is a global superstar, frequently touted as the next James Bond, and his dedicated Loki spin-off show is the Marvel TV release of the summer.

Of course, there’s one thing that Marvel offers its actors that money simply can’t buy: a bit of fun. “If my actors aren’t having a good time on set, then I’m doing something wrong,” Waititi told Polygon in 2016. Reflecting on her playfully heightened performance in the early episodes of WandaVision in a recent interview with the New York Times, Hahn said that her husband said her performance had reminded him of her younger self in her college days. “I haven’t seen that part of you in so long – just you, hamboning it,” he told her. Colman, who is by all accounts is a mischievous on a film set, may simply want to bust out of those period costumes, slip into a bodysuit, and have a good time.

[cigarettesmokerkaite]

I don't want to share daddy (daddy looks pretty part 2)

(Fluff)

Word count/1096

♫ ...•* ★¨`*•♫.•´*.¸.•´ ♫¨´*.¸.•´

I just came back from work to hear Alex singing in in studio

I walked closer to the singing as I peaked my head in the studio I saw Alex with Olivia sitting on his lap cuddling into him she must've been crying because Alex a was holding her the way he always holds her when she's upset

He had his arms wrapped around her rubbing her back for comfort and resting his chin on top of her head rocking both of them slowly

"Is she alright" I asked as soon as Alex noticed me

"Yeah shehs joost havin an off daeh luv" he said looking up at me Olivia tugged on his neck and started to cry again "daddeh keep singin" she said rubbing her brown eyes crying more

"Wha song deh want sunshine" he asked giving her a kiss on top of her head afterwords

"Mardeh bum" she said nuzzing her head into the crook of his neck

"Well now then mardy bum I seen your frown" he sang picking her nose to cheer her up a little bit

"And it's like looking down the barrel of a gun and it goes off" he began to sing more softer still gently rocking them both

Soon Enough liv fell asleep I sat with Alex in the studio he was stroking Olivias hair to comfort her

"How long was she like that" I asked my husband

"Since about half one I 'ad to collect her earleh cause sheh got all worked up and hurt a boy" Alex told me I was shocked she was never the type of kid that hits other kids I thought went she wakes up I'll talk to her

"Do you know why she did that" I asked concerned about my daughters actions

"The boy basicalleh cause it to 'appen in mEh eyes he wouldn't give her the doll she brought back and he pushed her on her arse so sheh hooked him in the face" Alex explained

"What who taught her to punch" I asked then it hit me my uncle Scott he taught me and my little sister to fight (true story btw)

"It's Scott he's taught her" I said to Alex he chuckled

"It can't be him" Alex said chuckling

"It is me and my sister were the same" I said

"Your still the same yeh luv teh fight" he said smirking

"That why I got to kickboxing" I said

"Right I'm putting sunshine teh bed and then weh can watch a movieh" Alex said standing up making his way out the room

After an hour or so me and Alex we're half way through our movie Olivia can in the living room

"Mummeh" she said rubbing the sleep away from her eyes

"Yes sweetheart" I responded

"Can I sit wif yeh and daddeh" she said

"Of course come on" Alex answered scooting over a little bit to make room for her

"I'm sorreh I hurt barreh" she said cuddling into Alex

"Yer not in trouble sunshine but you know it's not nice teh hit people" Alex said to her she nodded her head

"I know daddeh but barreh took mEh dolly and pushed me on my bottom and it hurt so I got angreh" she said in her little squeaky voice

"Liv who taught you to hit" I asked wondering if I was right or not

"Uncle scott he said if someone hits meh I hit them back so no one hits mEh again" she said causing me to chuckle

"That's what he told me" I said giggling Alex looked at me then rolled his eyes chuckling

"Wha' d'yeh want teh watch sunshine" Alex asked

"Trolls" liv beamed " 'ow about weh all go into mummehs and daddehs room to watch trolls" Alex suggested

liv got excited so I matched her excitement and we both shouted yeah and liv dragged Alex to the room to put trolls on

I went to get popcorn as I came into the room I found Alex and liv laying in bed ready to press play on the DVD player in our room

"Hurreh up mummeh" Alex and liv said in union

"I'm coming I'm coming" I said rolling my eyes

I got into bed and we all snuggled up

Halfway through the film Olivia was laying on her front at the bottom of the bed she always did that when we watch a movie in bed

Me and Alex cuddled up both as equally tuned into the film as our daughter

I mean we even sang the song with Olivia

I pressed a soft kiss to Alex's jaw he smiled

"Yeh alright luv" he asked pecking my lips

"Yeah babe" I answered

"Should we tell her" I whispered to my husband

"I fink weh should" he said

"Ok we'll do it the now" I said

"Olivia" I said

"Yeah mummeh" she responded climbing back in between me and Alex

"Remember you asked where baby's come from" I asked since she asked where baby's come from not long ago

"Yeah and yeh said tha' yeh phone a special place and they drop a seed in yer tummy when yeh sleepin" she said

"Yes well mummy and daddy phoned that place up" I started looking at Alex who's smiling I mobbed for him to continue the announcement

"Oh yeah well the people tha' work in the special place putted a seed in mummehs tummeh" Alex said poking my belly

"So there's a babeh in mummehs tummy right now" she asked seeming a little bit confused

"Yeah your going to be a big sister" I said smiling but her face only went into a pout

"No I need to share my daddeh" she said Alex heart melted that his daughter adored him so much

"I don't want to share mummeh aswell" she added looking sad

"Oh sunshine nothing will be different we'll still give Yeh the same amount of attention as yeh always get but it's someone teh look up teh yeh" he said since she always loved people who adored her

She smiled and hugged us and she went to my non showing belly and kissed it

"I hope it's a sister" she said hugging my belly again

"Guess weh have teh wait and see sunshine" Alex said we all ended up falling asleep by the time the movie was finished I had Olivia in the middle of me and Alex with her little arm resting on my belly Alex had his arm wrapped around me and Olivia moments like this I really do cherish

[backtohawkins]

WELCOME BACK TO HAWKINS, QUINN BAUMAN (olivia cooke fc)

good luck and have a bitchin’ summer!

[olivia cooke, female, she/her] who’s that? oh it’s [QUINN BAUMAN]. i hear they’re [20] and are known as [THE INTANGIBLE CONCEPT] around [HAWKINS]. they’re also an [INCOMING JUNIOR] at [UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO]. they’re known to be [+inquisitive, +resilient] and [-closed off, -harsh]. some people say they remind them of [cigarettes and coffee for breakfast, the smell of a lake in the middle of summer, staying up past 2 a.m., walking alone in the middle of the night]. [rocky, 27, she/her, pst]

Quintana Marie Bauman, now known as “Quinn,” was born to Murray and Lorraine Bauman on November 14th, 1967 right outside of Chicago. She grew up living with both her parents and her grandma, although if asked, she’d say her mom and grandma were the ones who raised her. As an only child, Quinn was always a bit of a recluse, but being shy and having a hard time making friends never bothered her much. She already had plenty to overthink about without adding the ups and downs of friendship into the mix.

When Quinn was little, her dad was her “hero” or whatever. He was tenacious, eccentric, and persistent in a way that she found inspiring. She was always in awe of his ability to crack a story and get to the bottom of a mystery. She admired that he didn’t seem to give a shit what people thought of him. That admiration eroded into resentment as Quinn got older. Her mom and grandma had done a decent job shielding her from her dad’s drinking and explosive behavior, but then came 1984. Quinn was 16 when her dad really started to lose it. He was erratic and absent and then of course…what he did to that girl…there was no excuse. It was the biggest stain on Quinn’s existence and it made her sick. How could he? He was a maniac. An abusive, alcoholic maniac who assaulted a child in pursuit of a story. When his trial concluded and news broke that her dad was being taken away to a mental institution, Quinn swallowed her hurt. When her mom revealed that she’d be divorcing him, Quinn swallowed her disappointment. She put up a good front…but still there were nights where sleep never came and all she did was wonder where he was, if he was okay, why he’d done it and if he’d ever come looking for her to try to make things right.

As far as Quinn knew, her dad never came looking for her. Life kind of just…carried on. She graduated high school, got into her mom’s (and dad’s) alma mater, and come fall of 1986, she packed her bags and abandoned the safety of her suburb for life in the city. Chicago was everything. Even when it was overwhelming and made Quinn feel small, she loved it. Being somewhere new where no one knew anything about her meant she could be whoever she wanted to be. So…she opened up a bit. Made some friends. Got some hobbies. It was nothing like high school. Life was actually…kind of good? Outside of her mom disagreeing with her being a journalism major (which Quinn insisted had nothing to do with her father and everything to do with the fact that she was nosy), her life was chaos free. Or at least it was…until she found the letters.

Quinn was home for the summer after her sophomore year of college. She’d been looking for some old mix tapes in the attic when she spotted a stack of envelopes poking out of a shoe box. They were letters from nearly four years ago – from when her dad had been taken away. Quinn stayed up in the attic, sweating bullets from the unbearable Illinois heat, reading every letter front to back twice. By the time she was finished, her mother was home from work. Quinn barreled down the ladder from the attic, threw the letters in her mom’s face, and quickly began packing her bags.

The decision to go down to Hawkins, Indiana was made on a whim. Quinn had no way of being sure that her dad was still there or even that the contents of his letters were true…but something in her gut told her everything he’d said was real. She was a cynic and a skeptic most of the time…but something about this whole situation…it had never made a ton of sense to her. Maybe these letters were the answer. Maybe there really was something more. And if that were true…then maybe her dad wasn’t crazy and actually did love her and didn’t just abandon her and her mom without any remorse.

During her drive from Illinois to Indiana, Quinn had close to five hours to overthink her decision. What did it mean for the world if everything her dad had said were true? That there actually were supernatural forces out there? Wasn’t it more likely that he was crazy? Now she was being crazy, wasn’t she? By the time she’d really started psyching herself out so much that her stomach hurt, she had already passed the worn down Welcome to Hawkins sign. Quinn checked into a crappy motel right outside the center of town and decided she’d go to the address on her father’s last letter…after she got some much needed sleep.

What happened the next day shook Quinn to her core. She woke up, had her breakfast of a cigarette and shitty black coffee, and got into her car. As she studied a map to figure out the best route to get to Murray, her nerves got the best of her. She had a change of heart. She’d go back home, work things out with her mother, and then maybe she’d write her dad and get in touch with him that way. No need for this dramatic grand gesture or whatever. The only issue was…no matter how many times Quinn tried to drive out of Hawkins…she always found herself looping back around. She did this for hours until she finally realized…she was stuck. There was no way out. Panicked, she went back to her motel room. A normal person probably would’ve asked for help…but Quinn was too proud and too scared of looking crazy. So she stayed put and decided to try again the next day. But…when the next day brought the same results…Quinn realized she had no choice. If she didn’t go find her father, she’d be stuck in this stupid midwestern town for the rest of her life and her family would think she’d gone missing and all of this would’ve been for nothing.

Quinn knew what she had to do…she just had to work up the courage to actually do it. And in the meantime, she decided to keep her identity somewhat of a mystery, exploring Hawkins with her head down and never getting too close to anyone. After all, if her dad was crazy, the last thing she wanted was to be associated with him. But if he wasn’t crazy…if everything he’d said was true…then Quinn and the rest of the townspeople obviously had much bigger problems coming their way.

[alj4890]

In the TRR book 3 we know Olivia gets stab by Anton during a fight, but what if Riley was the one to get stab while fighting with Anton? After all he was her press secretary and the betrayal ran deep with him!

A/N Here we go Nonny. I will admit that in book 2, I really liked Justin. His catchphrase was annoying, but so is Penelope’s incessant talk of Poodles, LOL. I enjoyed the twist in book 3 of him being the bad guy, but I did wonder why PB had Riley brushing off his betrayal so easily. Maxwell seemed more tore up than anyone that he was the terrorist. When you think about it, she spent months of the most difficult time in her and Liam’s relationship depending on this man to help her find a way to clear her name and find a way to have her happy ending. I think facing him would be harder than book 3 made it out to be. So...starting from the moment Olivia and Riley escape the dungeon and have let Gladys out of her prison, we will begin with them in the recreated Nevarkis weapons room.

Masterlist

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight

Hesitation

Mysterious Nevarkis Stronghold...

"He will come for his wife," Anton boasted. "And when he does, he will meet his end."

Riley tried to focus but Anton's words kept replaying over and over in her head.

"Which weapon do you want?" Olivia asked as she picked through the different daggers.

When no response was given she looked up to see what was wrong.

Riley was staring blankly at the wall adorned with various battle axes, swords, and war hammers. Her fingers moved over the angry red marks where the rope she had been bound with had rubbed her wrists raw. Her lips parted to answer Olivia, yet no words came out.

Liam. Her heart ached at the thought of losing him. After everything she had done to finally have the chance to be with him...Anton was determined to destroy it all. How could she possibly save anyone? She had little to no training in defense, yet she foolishly believed she could save the man she loved along with herself and her friend.

"Riley?" Olivia snapped in a harsh manner.

It was just what she needed to snap out of the defeated mindset she was falling into.

Riley reached up and removed a sword from the wall. Giving a few practiced swings, she ordered Gladys to draw as many of Anton's minions away as she could.

"Thank you, your majesty." Gladys reached out to squeeze her hand.

Olivia blocked her from touching by sliding in front of Riley. Her emerald eyes burned with hatred as she spoke.

"She might be giving you another chance," Olivia set her blade against the backstabbing servant's cheek, "but if I see one lock of your hair anywhere near Justin or the fight, then I will kill you myself."

Gladys stumbled back and bobbed her head while promising that she wouldn't go anywhere near them. She tripped over her own feet to get as far away from Olivia and her knives as she could.

Riley snorted on a laugh. She couldn't believe that at a time like this, her mind could see any kind of humor. "You need to teach me how to do that."

Olivia smirked at her as she led the way out.

The hallways were silent as the two crept along, sticking to the shadows as much as they could. After seeing that the rooms they came to were empty, Olivia begrudgingly complimented Gladys's ability to clear the way for them.

"Wait a sec." Riley whispered.

She handed Olivia her sword and then bent over to rip a slit in her dress. Testing it out, she ripped it higher until her legs felt free to move. What she wouldn't give to be wearing any other kind of shoe over the open toed high heels she had on.

"You good?" Olivia whispered.

With a nod, Riley took her sword back and continued down the hallway.

Murmurs of differing voices were heard when they approached a corner.

Olivia raised her dagger while Riley positioned beside her with her sword hedged over her shoulder like a baseball bat.

"They must be some--" Drake stopped just a hairsbreadth from being cleaved in two.

"Riley!" Hana pushed past him and Maxwell to hug her and Olivia. "Thank goodness you're both okay!"

"Where's Liam?" Riley stood on tiptoes to see over Drake's shoulders. "Isn't he with you?"

Maxwell rubbed the back of his neck. "He insisted on meeting Justin alone."

"Liam wanted us to find you and Olivia." Drake added.

"What about Bastien and the other guards?" Olivia asked.

The three shared a look.

"They didn't come?!" Riley hissed. "Liam has no one watching his back?"

"Yet." Olivia tilted her head. "He'll have us soon enough.

****************

Riley didn't know where this burst of courage came from, but she had already vaulted over a stairwell and slashed numerous soldiers that tried to help Anton fight Liam. Her heart was racing in time to her husband's every flinch and movement. She knew she should double check on her other friends to make certain they were holding their own, but the moment she heard Liam say, where is my wife, in that deep, dangerous tone...she only knew she had to do whatever was necessary to protect him.

They had not had a chance to speak or even to touch to make certain the other was truly okay before being thrust into the battle that she prayed was truly the final altercation.

She paused off to the side after wrestling with another minion. She brushed the hair out of her flushed face that had escaped her pearl hair clip. Her mind tried to comprehend the utter chaos going on around her.

And then she saw Anton make his move.

There was no time to shout a warning to Liam who was fighting three at once. The dagger’s blade in Anton's hand gleamed in the faint moonlight filtering in the windows as he raised it to stab Cordonia's young king in the back.

Riley kicked her shoes off and rushed to get between them. The muscles in her arms burned from lifting the heavy sword high above her head. Using what energy she had left, she blocked the blade about to pierce her beloved's heart.

Anton's lips twisted in a frustrated snarl as he leveled his cold gaze upon her.

Liam turned around in time to see what Riley had done. Just as he was about to help her, Claude barreled into him, knocking him into a far wall. Drake rushed over to help Liam when two other soldiers answered Anton's second in command's call for assistance.

Anton gritted his teeth at seeing his men defeated by people who spent all their time at fancy dinners and balls. Taking a step back to reassess whether or not this was the time to claim the crown, he decided retreat for the moment was the best option.

"It's over Justin." Riley told him. "Surrender now."

His expression eased into that of his easy going alter ego. "The battle might be, but this will not end until you and Liam are dead."

He sprinted over to the stairwell.

Riley dashed after him, determined to not live the rest of her life in fear.

"Justin!" She shouted.

He turned just in time to barely miss her sword's blade plunging into his back.

Smirking, he faced her. "I see you learned more from me than how to work the press."

She blinked at how calm he was as he lifted his dagger. Memories of time spent with him flittered through her mind. His effort in supporting her, laughing late at night with her and Maxwell over some of the ridiculous events they took part in, comforting her whenever she lost hope that she could one day truly be with Liam.

He had been a friend when she desperately needed one.

Her hands trembled as they tightened on the hilt of her sword.

It wasn't Justin who faced her now. It was the man who had worked with traitors to take the crown. The man who had tried numerous times to kill her and anyone else who got in his way. It was the man who threatened her the very future she had fought so hard to obtain..

It was Anton who stood before her.

Her friend Justin was no more. His death had come swiftly the moment she discovered his photograph in Olivia's vault.

And soon Anton's would follow.

"Riley, let us end this." He cajoled when he noticed her hesitate. "You don't have it in you to kill anyone." His familiar Justin smile flittered about his lips. "I know you. You are the kind of person who deserves to live a happy life. Not one caught up in political intrigue."

He edged a step closer as his . "It shouldn't have been you that was kidnapped. If you had only given up on Liam and allowed Madeleine to have him." He shook his head in pity while his Svengali like voice washed over her. "I wish you had stayed in New York. You will be the only person I regret ever having to eliminate."

Before Riley could react, he plunged his dagger into her side.

A hot wave of pain hit her when he jerked the knife out. She staggered back in shock. Her sword fell from her numb fingers, clattering as it fell down the stairs.

She could hear a roar thrumming through her ears and realized it was Liam.

He had just witnessed his wife being stabbed.

Justin glanced over his shoulder to taunt the current king.

Unable to focus on anything going on around her except the agony she felt, Riley pressed her hand to her side and felt the warmth of her own blood seeping through her fingers. Her side felt like it was on fire as she sank slowly to the floor. She glanced down the stairs and saw Olivia struggling against a solider to reach her.

With a violent flick of her wrist, her dagger went into the man's throat that had tried to pin her to the wall.

Olivia staggered as she walked, blood trickling down from her nose and bottom lip.

"If you can breathe, you can stand." She mouthed to Riley.

"And if you can stand, you can fight." Riley mouthed back.

Unable to get to her feet easily, Riley crawled over to where Justin stood. His back was to her as he threatened Liam and her friends. He continued to torture her husband by going into vivid detail all the ways he could finish her off.

Looking for anything she could possibly wield as a weapon, she noticed the loose railing and decided to use part of the training Mara had given her. Summoning all her strength into her legs she braced herself against a banister and swept Justin's out from under him.

He teetered, trying to find some balance by grasping onto the railing. The moment he did, Riley rose to her knees and shoved against him, causing his body weight to crack the rotted wood and plummet down to the main floor.

Gasping in pain from the exertion, she fell back once more on the worn carpet and closed her eyes.

"Riley!" Liam rushed the stairs, leaving Drake and Maxwell to deal with Justin.

He fell to his knees. His voice cracked as he whispered denials that he had been too late to save her.

Her eyes fluttered open only to close again as he kissed her. She could feel the exhausted desperation in his touch.

"Where are you hurt?" He asked. "Did he stab you anywhere else?"

"No." She whimpered when he eased her hand away from her wound. "Just there."

He tried to be gentle as he ripped his coat off to press against her side.

Bastien and the rest of the King's Guards burst through the doors.

"Your majesty!" He didn't bother to mask his anger. "You shouldn't have--"

"The queen has been wounded!" Liam interrupted harshly. "She requires immediate medical attention!"

Bastien hurried up to examine her while radioing for an ambulance.

"Hold on, my love." Liam pleaded. "Please. Stay with me."

She weakly grasped his hand. "Is it over? Justin didn't--"

"He's being taken care of." Liam told her. "He won't ever have a chance to harm you again."

"You're safe." Riley gasped when EMT's began to check her. Her voice became faint as blackness ebbed around her vision "I didn't lose you, Liam."

The last thing she remembered before blacking out completely was Liam's concerned face hovering over her.

***************

The Royal Palace...

A few hours later, Riley stirred. She blinked a few times to make the room she was in come into focus. A lamp turned down low glowed on a nightstand. Familiar paintings of past kings and queens hung on the walls. The beyond soft bed she was in brought back memories of a particular ball when Liam had shown her the Royal chambers.

A smile formed at that romantic thought as she sank further under the blankets.

"Riley?"

She opened her eyes again and noticed the outline of a man sitting in a chair by the bed.

"Liam?" She turned about, wincing when she felt the tug of stitches along her right side. "What happened?"

He leaned forward and took her hand in his. Pressing a kiss to it, he went through the series of events.

Images flashed through her mind, as the memories of her fight came rushing back.

"No more Sons of the Earth?" She asked.

"The ones who survived have been captured."

Her eyes widened. "Survived? Who died?"

Liam kept her hand clasped between his. "A few that Olivia and I fought...and some that you did."

Riley tried to comprehend that she had killed people. "How...how many?"

"My love, there is no need to dwell--"

"Liam." She gripped his hand. "Did I kill Justin?"

She knew by his hesitation that she had.

"The way he fell," Liam swallowed, "he broke his neck."

Riley pulled her hand away to cover her mouth.

"I beg for your forgiveness." Liam choked out. "If I had been there sooner or had--"

She shook her head while reaching for him. Urging him to lay on the bed with her, she tried to comfort him.

"You don't owe me an apology." She said through her tears. "You came to rescue me." She tried to smile. "Just like every prince does in fairy tales."

He wiped her tears. "I don't want you burdened with what happened." His eyes searched hers. "All I have ever wanted is to give you every good thing in life, not have one overshadowed with fear and guilt."

She swallowed audibly. "I'll be fine. I just...I can't believe I had to kill someone I spent time with. I actually enjoyed his company during your engagement tour." Her nose wrinkled. "The pain in my side though keeps reminding me he deserved being pushed over the banister."

"My only regret is that I didn't get a chance to be the one to end his existence on this earth." Liam's face darkened with his anger. "He dared multiple times to take you from me. He killed my father. Made our people doubt their safety and the crown's ability to defend it. If I couldn't fight him to the death myself, then I should have been the one to sentence him to such."

She cupped his cheek. Knowing he needed to vent after all they had been put through, she listened without interruption. When she felt his tense muscles relax, her mind turned to what they should do now.

"We both need to focus on it finally being over." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "All our plans to be together, to start a family, can be from this moment on. We fought for Cordonia, our friends," her smile peeked out when he kissed her, "we fought for us and for every moment we are lucky enough to share."

"You're right." Liam turned to kiss her palm. "We have a future before us, one of our choosing."

She snuggled closer in his arms, sighing as she felt sleep luring her back into its soothing confines. Just as she began to drift off, an image of Justin came to mind. It wasn't the man she had faced tonight, it was the one who helped protect her from cameras being shoved in her face during that very first meeting. She could see him pushing reporters out of her way, while holding tight to her waist.

It seems appropriate, Riley thought, to have a scar along the very spot Justin had once touched in such a deceptive, gentle manner. Having a personality that tried to only see the good in others, she would need a daily reminder to be more cautious in the future.

Her trust would never be so easily given again.

[talkingharrystyles]

see now everyone’s saying it’s olivia in the new pleasing pic and it’s making me mad. Maybe if they used a little common sense they would realize how off the hair color is and olivia’s hair is no where near that long. > Not only that, the mouth shape is completely different as well. But like others have said, shippers are desperate at this point, just like Olivia.

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Shippers are scrapping the bottom of the barrel after how badly New York went