#maureen's kitchen

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Boeing’s deliberately defective fleet of flying sky-wreckage

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW (May 2) in WINNIPEG, then Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

Boeing's 787 "Dreamliner" is manufactured far from the company's Seattle facility, in a non-union shop in Charleston, South Carolina. At that shop, there is a cage full of defective parts that have been pulled from production because they are not airworthy.

Hundreds of parts from that Material Review Segregation Area (MRSA) were secretly pulled from that cage and installed on aircraft that are currently plying the world's skies. Among them, sections 47/48 of a 787 – the last four rows of the plane, along with its galley and rear toilets. As Moe Tkacik writes in her excellent piece on Boeing's lethally corrupt culture of financialization and whistleblower intimidation, this is a big ass chunk of an airplane, and there's no way it could go missing from the MRSA cage without a lot of people knowing about it:

https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/2024-04-30-whistleblower-laws-protect-lawbreakers/

More: MRSA parts are prominently emblazoned with red marks denoting them as defective and unsafe. For a plane to escape Boeing's production line and find its way to a civilian airport near you with these defective parts installed, many people will have to see and ignore this literal red flag.

The MRSA cage was a special concern of John "Swampy" Barnett, the Boeing whistleblower who is alleged to have killed himself in March. Tkacik's earlier profile of Swampy paints a picture of a fearless, stubborn engineer who refused to go along to get along, refused to allow himself to become inured to Boeing's growing culture of profits over safety:

https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/2024-03-28-suicide-mission-boeing/

Boeing is America's last aviation company and its single largest exporter. After the company was allowed to merge with its rival McDonnell-Douglas in 1997, the combined company came under MDD's notoriously financially oriented management culture. MDD CEO Harry Stonecipher became Boeing's CEO in the early 2000s. Stonecipher was a protege of Jack Welch, the man who destroyed General Electric with cuts to quality and workforce and aggressive union-busting, a classic Mafia-style "bust-out" that devoured the company's seed corn and left it a barren wasteland:

https://qz.com/1776080/how-the-mcdonnell-douglas-boeing-merger-led-to-the-737-max-crisis

Post-merger, Boeing became increasingly infected with MDD's culture. The company chased cheap, less-skilled labor to other countries and to America's great onshore-offshore sacrifice zone, the "right-to-work" American south, where bosses can fire uppity workers who balked at criminal orders, without the hassle of a union grievance.

Stonecipher was succeeded by Jim "Prince Jim" McNerney, ex-3M CEO, another Jack Welch protege (Welch spawned a botnet of sociopath looters who seized control of the country's largest, most successful firms, and drove them into the ground). McNerney had a cute name for the company's senior engineers: "phenomenally talented assholes." He created a program to help his managers force these skilled workers – everyone a Boeing who knew how to build a plane – out of the company.

McNerney's big idea was to get rid of "phenomenally talented assholes" and outsource the Dreamliner's design to Boeing's suppliers, who were utterly dependent on the company and could easily be pushed around (McNerney didn't care that most of these companies lacked engineering departments). This resulted in a $80b cost overrun, and a last-minute scramble to save the 787 by shipping a "cleanup crew" from Seattle to South Carolina, in the hopes that those "phenomenally talented assholes" could save McNerney's ass.

Swampy was part of the cleanup crew. He was terrified by what he saw there. Boeing had convinced the FAA to let them company perform its own inspections, replacing independent government inspectors with Boeing employees. The company would mark its own homework, and it swore that it wouldn't cheat.

Boeing cheated. Swampy dutifully reported the legion of safety violations he witnessed and was banished to babysit the MRSA, an assignment his managers viewed as a punishment that would isolate Swampy from the criminality he refused to stop reporting. Instead, Swampy audited the MRSA, and discovered that at least 420 defective aviation components had gone missing from the cage, presumably to be installed in planes that were behind schedule. Swampy then audited the keys to the MRSA and learned that hundreds of keys were "floating around" the Charleston facility. Virtually anyone could liberate a defective part and install it into an airplane without any paper trail.

Swampy's bosses had a plan for dealing with this. They ordered Swampy to "pencil whip" the investigations of 420 missing defective components and close the cases without actually figuring out what happened to them. Swampy refused.

Instead, Swampy took his concerns to a departmental meeting where 12 managers were present and announced that "if we can’t find them, any that we can’t find, we need to report it to the FAA." The only response came from a supervisor, who said, "We’re not going to report anything to the FAA."

The thing is, Swampy wasn't just protecting the lives of the passengers in those defective aircraft – he was also protecting Boeing employees. Under Sec 38 of the US Criminal Code, it's a 15-year felony to make any "materially false writing, entry, certification, document, record, data plate, label, or electronic communication concerning any aircraft or space vehicle part."

(When Swampy told a meeting that he took this seriously because "the paperwork is just as important as the aircraft" the room erupted in laughter.)

Swampy sent his own inspectors to the factory floor, and they discovered "dozens of red-painted defective parts installed on planes."

Swampy blew the whistle. How did the 787 – and the rest of Boeing's defective flying turkeys – escape the hangar and find their way into commercial airlines' fleets? Tkacik blames a 2000 whistleblower law called AIR21 that:

creates such byzantine procedures, locates adjudication power in such an outgunned federal agency, and gives whistleblowers such a narrow chance of success that it effectively immunizes airplane manufacturers, of which there is one in the United States, from suffering any legal repercussions from the testimony of their own workers.

By his own estimation, Swampy was ordered to commit two felonies per week for six years. Tkacik explains that this kind of operation relies on a culture of ignorance – managers must not document their orders, and workers must not be made aware of the law. Whistleblowers like Swampy, who spoke the unspeakable, were sidelined (an assessment by one of Swampy's managers called him "one of the best" and finished that "leadership would give hugs and high fives all around at his departure").

Multiple whistleblowers were singled out for retaliation and forced departure. William Hobek, a quality manager who refused to "pencil whip" the missing, massive 47-48 assembly that had wandered away from the MRSA cage, was given a "weak" performance review and fired despite an HR manager admitting that it was bogus.

Another quality manager, Cynthia Kitchens, filed an ethics complaint against manager Elton Wright who responded to her persistent reporting of defects on the line by shoving her against a wall and shouting that Boeing was "a good ol’ boys’ club and you need to get on board." Kitchens was fired in 2016. She had cancer at the time.

John Woods, yet another quality engineer, was fired after he refused to sign off on a corner-cutting process to repair a fuselage – the FAA later backed up his judgment.

Then there's Sam Salehpour, the 787 quality engineer whose tearful Congressional testimony described more corner-cutting on fuselage repairs:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PP0xhIe1LFE

Salehpour's boss followed the Boeing playbook to the letter: Salehpour was constantly harangued and bullied, and he was isolated from colleagues who might concur with his assessment. When Salehpour announced that he would give Congressional testimony, his car was sabotaged under mysterious circumstances.

It's a playbook. Salehpour's experience isn't unusual at Boeing. Two other engineers, working on the 787 Organization Designation Authorization, held up production by insisting that the company fix the planes' onboard navigation computers. Their boss gave them a terrible performance review, admitting that top management was furious at the delays and had ordered him to punish the engineers. The engineers' union grievance failed, with Boeing concluding that this conduct – which they admitted to – didn't rise to the level of retaliation.

As Tkacik points out, these engineers and managers that Boeing targeted for intimidation and retaliation are the very same staff who are supposed to be performing inspections of behalf of the FAA. In other words, Boeing has spent years attacking its own regulator, with total impunity.

But it's not just the FAA who've failed to take action – it's also the DOJ, who have consistently declined to bring prosecutions in most cases, and who settled the rare case they did bring with "deferred prosecution agreements." This pattern was true under Trump's DOJ and continued under Biden's tenure. Biden's prosecutors have been so lackluster that a federal judge "publicly rebuked the DOJ for failing to take seriously the reputational damage its conduct throughout the Boeing case was inflicting on the agency."

Meanwhile, there's the AIR21 rule, a "whistleblower" rule that actually protects Boeing from whistleblowers. Under AIR21, an aviation whistleblower who is retaliated against by their employer must first try to resolve their problem internally. If that fails, the whistleblower has only one course of action: file an OSHA complaint within 90 days (if HR takes more than 90 days to resolve your internal complaint, you can no have no further recourse). If you manage to raise a complaint with OSHA, it is heard by a secret tribunal that has no subpoena power and routinely takes five years to rule on cases, and rules against whistleblowers 97% of the time.

Boeing whistleblowers who missed the 90-day cutoff have filled the South Carolina courts with last-ditch attempts to hold the company to account. When they lose these cases – as is routine, given Boeing's enormous legal muscle and AIR21's legal handcuffs – they are often ordered to pay Boeing's legal costs.

Tkacik cites Swampy's lawyer, Rob Turkewitz, who says Swampy was the only one of Boeing's whistleblowers who was "savvy, meticulous, and fast-moving enough to bring an AIR 21 case capable of jumping through all the hoops" to file an AIR21 case, which then took seven years. Turkewitz calls Boeing South Carolina "a criminal enterprise."

That's a conclusion that's hard to argue with. Take Boeing's excuse for not producing the documentation of its slapdash reinstallation of the Alaska Air door plug that fell off its plane in flight: the company says it's not criminally liable for failing to provide the paperwork, because it never documented the repair. Not documenting the repair is also a crime.

You might have heard that there's some accountability coming to the Boeing boardroom, with the ouster of CEO David Calhoun. Calhoun's likely successor is Patrick Shanahan, whom Tkacik describes as "the architect of the ethos that governed the 787 program" and whom her source called "a classic schoolyard bully."

If Shanahan's name rings a bell, it might be because he was almost Trump's Secretary of Defense, but that was derailed by the news that he had "emphatically defended" his 17 year old son after the boy nearly beat his mother to death with a baseball bat. Shanahan is presently CEO of Spirit Aerospace, who made the door-plug that fell out of the Alaska Airlines 737 Max.

Boeing is a company where senior managers only fail up and where whistleblowers are terrorized in and out of the workplace. One of Tkacik's sources noticed his car shimmying. The source, an ex-787 worker who'd been fired after raising safety complaints, had tried to bring an AIR21 complaint, but withdrew it out of fear of being bankrupted if he was ordered to pay Boeing's legal costs. When the whistleblower pulled over, he discovered that two of the lug-nuts had been removed from one of his wheels.

The whistleblower texted Tkcacik to say (not for the first time): "If anything happens, I'm not suicidal."

Boeing is a primary aerospace contractor to the US government. It's clear that its management – and investors – consider it too big to jail. It's also clear that they know it's too big to fail – after all, the company did a $43b stock buyback, then got billions in a publicly funded buyback.

Boeing is, effectively, a government agency that is run for the benefit of its investors. It performs its own safety inspections. It investigates its own criminal violations of safety rules. It loots its own coffers and then refills them at public expense.

Meanwhile, the company has filled our skies with at least 420 airplanes with defective, red-painted parts that were locked up in the MRSA cage, then snuck out and fitted to an airplane that you or someone you love could fly on the next time you take your family on vacation or fly somewhere for work.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/01/boeing-boeing/#mrsa

Image: Tom Axford 1 (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Blue_sky_with_wisps_of_cloud_on_a_clear_summer_morning.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

--

Clemens Vasters (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:N7379E_-_Boeing_737_MAX_9.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[science70]

Dining area pictured in Planning & Remodeling Kitchens edited by Maureen Williams Zimmerman (Lane Publishing Co., 1976).

[canadachronicles]

"Mrs. Kitchen had invited Enid and Alwyn to dinner. They had all feasted on the goose and stuffed themselves on the dark, rich plum pudding that Mrs. Kitchen had been preparing for weeks. Now the tables and chairs had been pushed to the wall to make a bit of room, and they were all gathered together close to the Christmas tree. Mrs. Kitchen had fixed tiny candles on the branches, which were also hung with gingerbread men and sugar candy sticks. At the of the tree was a satisfying pile of boxes and parcels that Alwyn was assessing with great concentration."

--From Let Loose The Dogs, by Maureen Jennings (2003).

I read this book last December, and if it finds Acting Detective William Murdoch in the midst of a very trying month, losing his sister Susanna to cancer, and reuniting with his estranged father only to find he has been convicted of murder; it ends on a cheerful note as Harry awaits a new trial once his (still distant; there's a lot of complicated history between them) son unmasked the true culprit.

And it's with relief he can celebrate Christmas with Arthur and Beatrice Kitchen, and his sweetheart Enid Jones and her son Alwyn, and Havoc, his dad's dog! It is a very good book and I warmly recommend it!

And I also wish you all a very Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Family Affair

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, violence, humiliation, biting, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your sister surprises you with good news but you find it difficult to be happy for her. (older, short reader)

Character: Curtis Everett

Note: Happy Curtmas.

For @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Chatter buzzes from the front room as you brace the wall and lift your foot to unzip your wedge boot. You’re late and the guests are already in the throes of their celebration. You wiggle off both boots and set them amid the clutter of many. As you stand straight and gather up your gift bags and purse, you’re met with an unexpected sight.

You lift a brow, slightly confused by the unfamiliar man. He’s tall, his hair is cut short, and dark stubble adds definition to his well-formed jaw. His eyes are a bold shade of aquamarine but are glossed over with an almost indifferent gleam. He doesn’t say a word as your eyes meet and he just as quickly turns into the front room, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans.

It’s been a few years. You’re sure a lot has changed. You head down the hall, past the broad archway of the front room, and into the kitchen. As usual, your mother is there, readying another tray of finger foods.

She looks up from her intent work and gives a wide smile, “you’re here!” She chimes, “I was half-waiting for a call saying you wouldn’t make it.”

Her arrow hits the bullseye of your guilt. You haven’t been the most reliable. You can make excuses; the divorce, work, depression. None of that can assuage her.

“Sorry, mom,” you go to put the gift bags down and she stops you with a tut.

“Ah, ah, you go add those to the pile and say hello,” she demands, “you’re not hiding in here.”

You look at her, almost desperate. You love her but sometimes you wonder if that feeling is mutual. As much as she’s right, you hoped she might have some empathy. She’s been through a turbulent split, she’s had to start again, but she expects you to do it flawlessly. As she has anything else.

“Love you, mom,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Love you too, hon,” she goes back to arrange the spiral of cocktail weenies, “make sure you say hello to your sister. She’s so excited to see you.”

You nod and a real smile breaks through. That was the one light at the end of the tunnel. Your baby sister was always your favourite. Despite nearly two decades between you, she’s your best friend. In a way, you feel like a second mother, taking pride in her like you would a child of your own.

The front room is filled to the brim. Aunt Geri and Uncle Val sit on a sofa with their son, Miko. A cluster of similarly aged cousins stand at the edge of the couch chatting. Aunt Maureen argues with Aunt Kaya, and the latter’s husband stands by the window with a glass in hand and his mind a million miles away.

You always found yourself out of place at these things. When you were a child, you were the youngest one in the room. Too immature to understand the dialogue of your elders. As you got older, the other cousins came along and were too young for your angsty teenage self. Now, you’re caught in the desert between the eras; the retirees complain too much and the coeds talk too loud.

You peer around. A set of broad shoulders draws your eye in the corner of the room. It’s that same man you saw before. He has his back to you as he maintains a casual posture. As he leans on one leg, you see your sister, Adeline, gabbing to him. Oh, he must be with her…

As you drop your gifts under the tree, you mull the revelation. You suppose the assumption wasn’t obvious. At first glance, he’s older than her, or maybe he just looks it. She’s still a sophomore in college but you suppose that makes even more sense. These are the years she gets to figure it all out.

You face the room and stop as Aunt Maureen latches onto your arm, blindsiding you with Kaya as they close in like hyenas.

“There she is,” Maureen slurs.

“Not too good for us after all, huh?” Kaya challenges.

“What? No, uh, Merry Christmas–”

“Where’s Benny?” Maureen interrupts. You blanch, nearly choking on your tongue. The mention of your ex-husband has you breathless.

“Maur,” Kaya hisses, “remember…”

“Probably with his new girlfriend,” you say tersely.

“Oh my,” Maureen lets you go and slaps her forehead, “I’m so sorry. The wine…”

“It’s… okay,” you shrug. “Not talking about it won’t undo it.”

“He was such a charming man,” Maureen hums mournfully. You blink at her.

“His loss,” Kaya pats your arm gently, trying to clean up her sister’s mess. You know they all think the same. You had a good thing and you blew it. Even if you told them he fucked his co-worker, you’d be the one who threw it all away.

“Pity you never got a kid outta him,” Maureen sighs.

“Really, divorce has been final for a year, I’m good,” you insist and shuffle past them, “I’m going to make the rounds.”

“Don’t forget to have some wine,” Maureen calls after you, “takes the edge off disappointment, you know?”

You growl and shake your head as you stalk away. You wave hello to your other aunt and uncle, hoping to avoid a similarly humiliating encounter, and weave through the sea of guffawing cousins. You come out on the other side as Adeline beams up at her guest.

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and her face lights up. She bounces in place and throws her arms out. She rushes past the man and has you wrapped up in a hug. It’s kind of ridiculous how much taller she is. You’re supposed to be the bigger sister.

“You’re here!” She rocks you in her embrace, “eek! I’m so excited.”

You croak out a breath as she squeezes the air out of you. She releases you with a giggle, apologising as she steps back. She wears a long tulle skirt and a beaded sweater. She’s beautiful. You could never pull something like that off, even twenty years ago.

“Oh, oh, you have to meet Curtis,” she snatches your hand and tugs you over the tall man as he turns to face you. Those same vague eyes fall upon you, “Curtis, this is my sister!”

“Curtis,” you repeat, “it’s nice to meet you.”

You look between them with a brittle smile. He offers his hand as he returns the sentiment. You shake, his palm rough and calloused. Adeline vibrates with joy.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says. 

“And I’ve heard nothing about you,” you grin at Adeline, “Addy?”

“I’m sorry,” she cups her cheeks guiltily, a sparkle on her ring finger. Your heart drops. “I didn’t know how to– the divorce and–”

“Ad,” you wisp and nearly sway on your feet, “what is that?”

You point to her hand and she quickly swipes it away, hiding it behind her back. “Nothing,” she gulps, the same way she did when she was a child and you caught her playing with your makeup.

There’s a tense silence as you gape in shock. Your mouth hangs open as you search for the words. Your eyes tinge with hot tears but you swallow them back.

“Congratulations,” you draw her into a hug, “really, I’m happy for you.”

She hugs you back, gentler than before. As you part, she looks nervous. Curtis clears his throat.

“Both of you,” you offer him a fragile smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little… shocked. Does mom know?”

Adeline nods as she clasps her hands together. You take a breath, and calm yourself. It’s not anything that she fears, you’re not jealous. You’re nervous, you’re afraid for her. It’s a big thing and she’s so young.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around to share the good news,” you say, “I’d love to help, if I can?”

“We got it,” Curtis insists.

“Oh,” you wince, “I didn’t mean– I could help with the planning or the engagement part–”

“We’re eloping,” he crosses his arms, “we’re not wedding people. Whole lot of money and fanfare for nothing.”

You nod, holding back your surprise as best you can. Nothing? It’s marriage. Even if they don’t want a big ceremony, it means something.

“I could help pay for the trip–”

“I got it,” he enunciates each word as he sidles over to sling his arm around your sister’s back. She looks away meekly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. She’s my sister, I just want to–”

“If you wanted to help, you would’ve been around the last two years,” he interjects.

Adeline’s head snaps around as she gives him a look. She nudges him with her elbow and whispers his name. He glares at you as you wilt. You’re not sure what you’ve done or said.

“Well, I think maybe me and Addy can talk about that,” you look at your sister, “when you have a chance, of course. I don’t want to spoil the holiday.”

“Adeline,” he corrects you, “Addy is so juvenile.”

The benefit of the doubt splinters as his tone cuts through you. You bite your tongue. Perhaps a twenty-one year old is juvenile to someone his age. You’ll talk to Addy about that too.

“Adeline,” you force a smile, “I… I’m going to go check on mom.” You show a palm in deference as you excuse yourself, “we’ll catch up later.”

As you back away, your eyes meet Curtis’. He watches you with a scowl. You are taken completely off balance. How could she end up with someone like him? She’s so sweet and he’s so scary…

Maybe she’s afraid too.

🎄

Christmas Eve ends much the same as you remember. The elders sit around the dining table to play cards as the kids, now adults, disperse in the living room or outside to entertain themselves. There’s a vague stench near the front door that no one will comment on but everyone knows what it is as it wafts in from outside.

You find yourself in limbo, once more caught in the in-between. You hole up in the kitchen, staring at the kettle as you wait for it to tremble. You won’t be missed if you take a tea up to your assigned room without a good night.

You lean on the counter and sigh, your finger brushing over the brim of the white porcelain cup with the hen on it. Strange how your mother’s house never seems to change but your life is inextricably altered. Your melancholy dims the cheery decor around you as you wallow away from the voices of the merry.

“There you are,” Adeline startles you as she sweeps in, “oh, is there any of the hot choccy left?”

You smile at her question. Everything about her reminds you of the time passed, of her newfound adulthood, yet she’s just the same little girl you always knew. You turn and pull the tin forward, “one packet left, just for you.”

You pull it out and face her again. She pulls out a mug from the cupboard and sets it down. The kettle hums between you as it heats up.

She exhales as you linger in a tense silence. You both have so much to say but neither of you know where to start. She finds her words first. Despite being younger, she was always the more outspoken.

“Do you like him?” She asks.

You poke your tongue into your cheek, “well, I’ve barely spoken to him. He seems to like you though.”

Her cheeks bulb as she grins bashfully, “I love him.”

Your chest seizes as you recognize that glimmer in her eye. She’s genuine, she feels that love so deeply it consumes her. It’s a naive love but real nonetheless. The sort you can’t see for what it is until it turns sour.

“I can tell,” you reach forward to fix the bow on her headband, “I’m happy for you. And my offer still stands. Maybe if it’s not the wedding, a honeymoon, or help with a house…” you wet your lips and steady your voice, “I only want you to be happy, Addy– Adeline.”

“Oh, he’s just… he’s like that. I can’t even call him Curt. He balances me out,” she beams.

“Yeah,” you say noncommittally.

“What?” Her voice dampens.

“Nothing,” you distract yourself with the variety of tea bags in the wooden chest next to the breadbox, “it’s… a lot. I’m surprised, is all. I just hope it goes well.”

She sniffs and lets her breath out long and heavy, “I’m sorry, I knew– he kinda said you’d probably be upset. After Benny–”

“This has nothing to do with him,” you narrow your eyes at her, a bag of chai in your hand, “this is about you. I only want what’s best for you.”

“He’s so good to me, you don’t have to worry.”

“I can worry, you’re my baby sister,” you insist, “and…” You shake your head, refusing to let the thought escape.

“And what?” She challenges, her pitch squeaking.

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me. I can always tell when you’re dying to say something. What?”

You shrug, “it’s just… how old is he?”

She scoffs, “wow.”

“What? I’m just asking.”

“It’s not like he’s old enough to be dad,” she pouts and crosses her arms.

“I know, I didn’t mean– Ad–Adeline, I just— you have time to figure it out. So I hope you’re not rushing this.”

“I’m not,” she snips, an uncharacteristic edge in her voice.

“I believe you… but what about him?”

She’s quiet as the kettle clicks, signalling the boiling point. You turn and drop the tea bag into your cup and pour the water. She tears open the packet and empties it into her own mug.

“Sorry,” you utter, “forget it. I… I don’t know him so maybe I need to get to know him. I’m here, Ad, and I will always be here for you.”

She nods and reaches for the kettle, not looking at you.

“Really, I trust you. I just worry about you,” you clap your hand on her shoulder, “you’re my lil teddy bear.”

She chuckles and looks down at you, your statement made absurd by the difference in your heights.

“And you’re the big grizzly, scaring off the wolves,” she kids back.

“Adeline,” the deep rumble thunders in ahead of the man, making both of you jump. You pull back your hand as Curtis strides in, “hey, I’ve been waiting on you.”

“Oh, sorry, baby,” she preens at him, “I was just–”

“You said we’d call my family after dinner,” he interrupts.

“I forgot,” she squeals, “oh, I’m so sorry.” She glances over at you, “I did promise.”

“Go on,” you try to smile but you’re not sure it’s showing.

She spins and flits over to Curtis. His eyes meet yours over her shoulder. His brows arch as his jaw is set in stone. A chill runs up your spine at the ice in his dark pupils. He grabs Adeline’s hand and drags her out.

You’re left in silence. You look over at the unmixed powder floating in the steaming water. You chew your lip as you stare at it. It’s just hot chocolate but there’s something about her abandoning something she loves so much for him. You try not to let your own failed marriage echo over her relationship, but it just feels off.

Well, Benny always did say you never did handle change very well.

🎄

The night before Christmas is rarely a restful one. Even without the childish belief in Saint Nick, you find yourself awake, anxious but not for presents. You keep replaying the night through your head; not the awkward interactions with aunts and uncles, or the silent judgment from the younger crowd, but Adeline and Curtis. Let it go, it’s none of your business.

You huff and roll on your back. Sleep eludes you. You sit up and bend over the side of the bed. You hold your head. You’ll sneak out the bathroom and hopefully an empty bladder will help.

You drag your feet across the floor, the legs of your pajama pants too long and trailing down your feet. You open the door and yawn as you enter the hall, only to collide with another unexpected barrier. Before you can react, you’re being forced back into the guestroom, stumbling as your fingers claw at the door frame and slip off.

A hand smothers your mouth, rough against your lips, as a foot kicks the door shut with a sharp click. You murmur into the calloused flesh as an arm loops around your back, trapping you as you’re urged further into the dark. You grasp at the cotton clinging to muscular shoulder. You’re kept off balance by your attacker’s certainty.

“I fucking heard you,” Curtis’ silty grit seeps into your ears, “you think I’d hurt her?” He snarls as he stops you at the foot of the bed. His shadow looms over you, breath puffing from his nostrils as he growls like a beast, “I wouldn’t, but I’ll hurt you.”

He pushes you back so your legs meet the side of the bed. You teeter and clasp your hand around his wrist, squeaking as he easily takes you down onto the mattress. He pins you, your legs hanging off the end, kicking weakly as his other hand curves around your throat.

He bends over you, straddling your chest heavily. You can’t breathe. Your heart pounds until your ears throb. Your temples pulse violently and your throat dries to a sandy scrape.

“Stay out of my fucking business,” he snarls, sliding down your body.

You whimper into his hand as he drops his knees off the bed, holding himself over you. He squeezes your neck, choking out your voice as he drags his hand from your mouth. He feels along your chest and flicks open the top button of your shirt. Your eyes wet in horror.

“Fucking show you…” he sneers as his breath scours over your flesh.

Another button undone as his lips tick along your shoulder. You squeak once more as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, biting a mean pinch until you spasm. The pain is unbearable. You feel the skin break as the hot flow of blood mingles with his spit.

He detaches only to bite you again. You can’t make a noise as his grip grows tighter on your neck. Even if you could scream, you’re too terrified and confused to understand what he’s doing. He’s like an animal tearing you apart. 

He lays a tortured path down your chest, lingering on the rise of flesh, gnawing into the tenderness there. His nails dig into your side, pushing up your shirt as he scratches hot lines into your skin. You push on his shoulders desperately but he’s too strong.

“Stop filling her head with your bitterness,” he growls before he bites into your nipple. 

You shake and beat on his head, shoulders, and back. You writhe and wrestle, trying to free yourself from him. He continues on, down your stomach, lingering on the soft flesh as his fingers hook into the elastic of your pants.

Your panic overflows with your tears. This can’t be happening. Why would he do this? He could talk to you? You would listen. You didn’t say anything wrong, you just want Adeline to be careful.

The very thought of your sister throttles you. Does he do this to her? Is this why she’s so defensive? The idea makes you sick to your stomach.

He lifts himself, his weight centering on your neck. You think he’ll crush your windpipe as he looms over you, snarling in the blackness. He pushes you higher onto the bed, forcing your legs open with his knees.

“Don’t make a fucking noise or I’ll make sure you can’t,” he threatens, giving a last squeeze before slowly slackening his grip.

You hold your breath. You believe him. Your body goes limp and you close your eyes. The bed shifts as he sits back on his heels. He pulls your pants down your thighs and you whine. He hushes you, a harsh tap across your cheek to get his point across.

You let your head drift to one side as you clench the blanket beneath you in tight fists. He keeps your legs trapped in your pants, knees bent as the fabric strains across his stomach. He tilts and movies around, his fingernails scratching the back of your thighs.

“Bet the husband couldn’t stand your fucking mouth,” he snarls as he pushes roughly against your cunt. “Didn’t know how to train you.” He jams two fingers into you, jolting your entire body, “dry bitch like you, he was probably thirsty as fuck.”

You seal your eyes tight, tears trickling through as a sob bubbles in your throat. You want to tell him to stop. You want to ask why. You want to scream. You can’t do anything as your body locks up.

He fingers you meanly, pulling his fingers out only to ram them in again, each time his knuckles hit you painfully. He keeps it up, growling with each intrusion as your muscles knots and pathetic noises rise from your throat.

He forces your legs higher, tearing his hand away from your pelvis. He adjusts his knees and you feel something else against your cunt. 

“No…” you whisper right as he ruts into you.

He splits you apart around him. You let out a holler and he quickly silences you with a crack of his knuckles. The back of his hand snaps off your cheek and turns your head to the other side. You gulp and sob, choking back any noise that threatens to bubble over.

He holds himself as deep as he can. He puts his large hands on your shoulders and pins you flat. He bucks, agony rippling up your spine. He snaps his hips, again and again, each time harder than the last.

“This is what you need. So fucking jealous, aren’t you? Dried up old bitch,” he pumps into you as his breath picks up, “why kind of sister are you, huh? Fucking your baby sister’s man. Fucking slut.”

You cover your face and heave. You’re drowned in pain and humiliation. You’re disgusted with him for doing this to you; and yourself for letting him.

“You don’t wanna hurt her, do you?” He growls, “that’s why this is happening… cause you wanna keep her safe, right?”

He puts his hand against your head and pushes it down into the bed, fucking you into the mattress. The frame pounds the wall, matching his furious rhythm. You reach to brace his thick arm, begging silently for it to end.

“Oh, it’ll be over soon,” he rasps as his hand once more frames your throat, “fuck, you got me ready to blow quicker than I thought.” He puffs, each thrust rattling your bones, “I love how weak you are.”

[eddiemunsonsmum]

This is Babysitting Club, not Hellfire Club

Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Eddie volunteers the services of Babysitting Cl- Uh, Hellfire Club when a friend needs someone to watch their child for an hour. Eddie tries to run a campaign while taking care of a 4 year old and is relentlessly bullied by said child as a result.

Tags: Fluff, Joking, Banter, Eddie gets bullied by a 4yo, Comedy (I hope), pregnancy, friendship, Hellfire Club, References to spice, Unhinged DM!Eddie loses the plot.

Words: 6.7k

A/N: This story sits somewhere between Anticipation and Fuck You Maureen but should be able to be read as a standalone!

~~

“You’re sadistic.” Mike Wheeler said flatly. A pinched expression on his face as he glared at his Dungeon Master from under thick brows. 

“I’m fun.” Eddie corrected, not looking up from tracing his finger down the columns of numbers on his side of the DM screen blocking him from the other players.

“He’s self-indulgent.” Jeff corrected again, sharing a knowing look with Grant and Gareth as the two of them nodded in agreement.

“Hey!” Eddie shouted suddenly, eyes stern as he looked up at them over the top of the screen. Their outlines were illuminated by the afternoon light that filtered through the dining room window behind them. Their faces obscured by the shadows cast on them. “I’ve been through a lot this year.” He defended weakly, eyes softening as he turned them back to his notes and the boys around the table muttered about ‘letting him have this one.’

Silence descended on the room once more as Eddie honed in on his notes. Not noticing as a lone figure crept up beside him and began staring at them as well.

“What’s that?” A voice asked suddenly from right beside his head.

Eddie jumped involuntarily. Easily startled these days. 

He was grateful for once that his natural fright reflex was flight and not fight so he had not lashed out as he looked down into the wide, innocent eyes of his 4 year old neighbor, Jack.

“Jesus Christ!” He let slip, breathing hard as the kid giggled at the fact that he had apparently frightened the adult in front of him.

“That!” He repeated when Eddie didn’t answer, little finger pointing to the numbers Eddie had been studying.

“Sorry!” Jack’s Father John called as he entered through the open front door and closed it quickly behind him. “He got away from me.” He explained sheepishly as he tugged on the kid’s arm. “Come on, leave Eddie alone.” John chided gently, giving a wave to the table before heading off.

Eddie watched them walk towards the back of the house where his girlfriend Karmen was trying to work in her office. Turning back to his friends and noticing all eyes in his direction, waiting for an explanation.

“Karmen babysits.” He said with a shrug. “A lot.” He added under his breath as he picked up his pen and tried to figure out where they’d left off.

~

“The door is locked.” Eddie smiled smugly as a collective groan rolled around the table at his words. A satisfied chuckle falling from his grinning lips as he watched his club come to terms with the plot twist.

“Why are they always locked?” Gareth growled, placing his head in his hands.

“Because it would be a pretty boring game if you could just go wherever you wanted.” Eddie said with a shrug. “So the way I see it, you have two choices.” He began. “You can–”

“No!” Karmen shouted angrily, interrupting his words and making his head snap around in time to see her rounding the corner into the kitchen. Frustrated hands grasping at the air as bare feet stomped on the hollow flooring.

“It’s just for an hour, please!” John begged, practically on his knees as he followed at her heels. “Forty-five minutes, tops.” He lied, making Karmen bark out a laugh as she turned on him.

“I’ve lived your forty-five minutes Marston and I’m not keen to live it again!” She countered, turning away from him.

“It’ll be different this time, I promise.” He assured her, slumping heavily on the counter as she opened the fridge and fished around inside it. 

Eddie watched on silently, eyes raking over her back as she grasped at nothing in the cold shelves. Trying to look busy so she could put distance between herself and whatever John was requesting.

She settled on a bottle of cold water. Taking it out even though she hadn’t really wanted it and setting her eyes on her friend again.

Eddie rolled his entire head with his eyes, turning back to the guys and shaking it as he held up a finger. Letting them know he would be waiting for the argument behind them to resolve before he continued. He held up his calculator, letting them know that he was going to figure out his equations for the next part of the campaign now and if they had anything to work out themselves, now was the time.

“Look John, even if I wanted to, I have too much work to do. I haven’t finished settling the accounts.” Karmen argued from behind his back, slamming the fridge shut and twisting at the cap of her bottle.

“But you work for me…” John argued meekly. “I don’t care if it’s not done.” He lied again through gritted teeth.

“You told me you needed it done by tomorrow.” She snipped, pressing the bottle to her lips and pausing before taking a drink. “Unless that was a lie?” She added, watching the color drain from his face as she took a sip of the beverage.

“No…” He answered bashfully, looking away from her. “It wasn’t.”

“Right.” She nodded, smiling sarcastically as she wiped at her wet lips with the back of her hand. “So it’s gonna’ look bad on you when it’s not done.” 

“This is more important than–”

“Don’t lie to me again. It’s not worth it for you.” Karmen warned, cutting him off with a scowl as John shut his mouth tight and took a calming breath. A grimace-like smile on his face as he pressed his hands together and pointed them at her as if he was in prayer.

“One hour.” He promised, tilting his head towards his son who had followed them back into the kitchen and was sitting just shy of the counter. His little hands moved a ceramic duck around in the air. Making little quacking noises for it as he played with the breakable object he’d taken from the shelf in Karmen’s office.

She huffed at the sight. Wanting nothing more than to take it back and remind him for the thousandth time that not everything was a toy.

She looked to John with a frown, waiting for him to say something and shaking her head when he didn’t.

Useless.

She thought to herself. Ready to open her mouth and rant about how she had to do everything for everyone when Eddie piped up, surprising her.

“I could do it.” He said from his place at the table. Not looking up from his notebook as he continued to punch equations into his calculator and pen down the answers.

The couple in the kitchen stopped bickering at his offer. Both turned to him with incredulous looks on their faces as they waited for the other shoe to drop. 

The punchline.

Eddie placed down his pen, swiveling so he was sitting sideways. One arm leaning on the table and the other on the back of his chair. He looked at them both, frowning at their skeptical expressions. 

“What?” He asked after a long moment. John’s eyes flicked to Karmen’s before he shrugged lightly and turned back to Eddie.

“You wanna’ watch my kid?” He asked. “You know that’s what we’re arguing about.” He added with a scoff. Convinced that Eddie had misread the situation.

“Sure.” Eddie answered with a shrug. “If you need someone.” He added nonchalantly, turning back to the table and realizing the whole club had raised their heads like gophers in the dirt. He narrowed his eyes at them all, watching as they went back to their character sheets one by one. 

“What do you think?” John asked Karmen. Mocking the way she scrunched up her face at his question by imitating her. “What?” He asked with a laugh. “You have an opinion on everythin’ but not this?” He asked, gesturing towards the dining table.

“Offer’s expiring.” Eddie sing-songed. Wanting to snatch it back immediately with the way John had sniped at Karmen. 

But he wasn’t offering to help him. He was offering for her.

“I think you don’t have a choice.” Karmen replied finally, placing down her bottle of water and leaning her hip against the bench. “Unless you don’t want to go.” She said scandalously. A mocking pout on her lips.

“Ugh.” John grumbled as he turned back to Eddie who was busy ignoring them for his own sanity. “Fine!” He said loudly, catching the younger man’s attention. “But if Karmen goes out, Jack goes with her.” 

“Cute you think you have control over that.” Eddie murmured, placing his pen down for the second time and turning back to them. “Whatever. Bring him over here.” He said flatly, gesturing to the space beside him and looking up to see Karmen smiling at him from the kitchen.

He knew she’d cave into the begging and pleading soon enough and he wanted to offer an alternative. Knowing that once she had agreed, there was no chance in hell that John would choose Eddie instead. He’d had to offer before she did.

“He’s a child.” John said frankly as he scooped up Jack and ripped the duck from his hands. The kid protested loudly at the absence of his 'toy'. 

“You can’t just put him down and expect him not to move. He’s not gonna just sit there while you do your thing.” He said, holding up the ceramic as an example of Jack not doing what he’d been told.

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” Eddie asked, irritated. 

The other man didn’t answer. Instead plopping Jack down in the space between Eddie at the head of the table and Dustin on the other corner.

“Be good for Eddie please?” He asked Jack quietly as he placed the duck on the table in front of Eddie’s DM screen. 

The toddler ignored him completely as wide eyes looked over all the small exciting things on the table in front of him.

John stood back, crossing his arms as he watched for a minute as if waiting for Eddie to launch himself at Jack and tackle him to the ground or pull some drugs out of his pocket and give them to the toddler to play with.

When that obviously didn’t happen he took another few steps back. Eddie watched with an annoyed expression the entire time before finally, John waved goodbye to them all and left out the front door.

“Alright.” Karmen said loudly, walking up behind the boys and petting Jack on the head as he looked up at her with a little grin. “Come on Jack.” She coaxed, jerking her head back towards her office. 

Eddie watched them, confused before realising suddenly that she didn’t think he was serious. That he knew she’d cave and he was just fucking with John for his own amusement.

“Kam…” he said hastily, placing a hand on her arm to stop her from walking away and catching her attention. “I was serious.” He assured her, stifling a laugh at the look she gave him. 

“What?” She asked candidly, making the guys around the table chuckle. 

“Yeah, what?” Mike repeated, leaning around Dustin to look Eddie in the eye as he raised his brows in question. “You’re in the middle of a session.” He said, waving his hands over the table as if Eddie had forgotten what they were doing.

“So?” Eddie asked, feeling defensive of their questions.

“So….” Dustin began slowly, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I think maybe Mike’s concern is that you won’t be able to run the campaign as efficiently as you’d like while taking care of a kid…” He said, rolling his hands as he spoke.

“Yeah and what do you know about taking care of kids anyway?” Garreth piped up, a nod of agreement murmured around the table.

“Oh my God you guys.” Eddie griped, once again rolling his entire head with his eyes dramatically. “Will you stop?” He asked with a smile as he shook his head sarcastically in their direction. “You have bigger problems right now than my concentration. If you don’t figure out what you’re gonna do about this door and that Undead Goldhoarder chasing you then none of this is gonna’ matter.” He said frankly, pushing himself up from the table and swooping Jack up with arms around his middle.

Jack didn’t protest, instead swinging his legs excitedly at being picked up as Eddie turned to Karmen.

“Go.” He said softly, flicking his head back towards the hallway as he turned around. “Please.” He added, softer. Sitting himself down and placing Jack on his lap. One arm slung around the toddler’s stomach to keep him in place as he picked up his pen. He knew she wouldn’t walk away until she saw them all sitting harmoniously.

“Okay…” She agreed, reluctant. “But come and get me if he gets too much.” She said, sighing as Eddie waved his pen at her without looking up.

“Alright.” He announced as he heard the door to her office close. “What’s the plan?” He asked, looking around the table with a wicked smile.

~~

“No! No Jack!” Eddie chastised gently. “Choking hazard.” He explained firmly as he pulled one of his dice from sticky fingers. “Nothing on this table is for eating, kid.”  

“But this is where we eat food?” Jack replied incredulously.

“Well, it’s also where we play games sometimes.” The Dungeon Master said as he dragged the kid back, closer to his torso. His right hand scribbled on the page of his notebook. His body tilted sideways to try and keep Jack’s stubby arms from being able to grab anything else on the table.

“Why do you play games?” The toddler asked, sounding bored as he gave up trying to reach for the table and slumped bonelessly against Eddie’s arm. Somehow making him even harder to hold.

“Because it’s fun.” Eddie sighed, rubbing at his eyes as he restarted the equation he was trying to do for the sixth time.

“You’re a dad-ult.” Jack said pointedly as Eddie stifled a laugh.

“Ad-ult.” He corrected. “And adults like to play games too.”

“Adult.” Jack repeated. “Did you know I’m bored?” He asked immediately afterwards, one of the guys chuckling at this candidness. Eddie couldn’t see who it was from the angle he had to sit to keep the kid on his lap and write at the same time.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, not surprised. “Well I’m getting bored of holding you so– Stop licking me!” He exclaimed suddenly, pulling his arm away from the kid’s mouth and gagging as Jack’s wet lips cackled at the reaction.

“Alright.” Eddie groaned, slipping his hands under the kid’s armpits and holding him up above his head with surprising strength. “Does anyone else wanna’ hold this thing?” He asked, jiggling the kid around and watching as five pairs of eyes looked away quicker than he could finish his sentence.

“He can sit with me for a bit.” Dustin offered from the next chair over, catching Eddie’s eyes and realizing he was the only one still watching.

“Right Jackie, go sit with Dustin please.” Eddie instructed, placing the child on the floor next to him and shooting out an arm to grab the back of his shirt and stop him from sprinting off.

Jack lurched back as Eddie’s hand fisted in the fabric. Catching himself on unsteady little feet and turning back to Eddie with large glaring eyes as he grumbled about wanting Aunty Karmen because Eddie was boring.

“With Dustin please.” Eddie said flatly, ignoring the insult and steering the kid towards Dustin’s waiting arms.

“Hey there little guy.” He said cheerily as Jack let himself be lifted onto someone else’s boney knees.

“You talk funny.” He said bluntly.

“Jack!” Eddie hissed angrily as the little one looked up at him with a confused expression.

“What?” He asked obliviously. Not sure what he did to deserve the dad-ult’s ire.

“Kid you can’t just… Just point stuff like that out, it’s rude.” Eddie explained, teeth ground together as a flush rose on his cheeks. Angry eyes daring the toddler to try it again as Dustin chuckled, jostling Jack on his lap.

“It’s fine dude, honestly.” He waved it off but Eddie still felt compelled to apologize on the kid’s behalf and reiterate to Jack that it was rude to point out things that people couldn’t change about themselves.

“Is ‘annoying’ something that people can’t change?” Jack asked in response as Eddie blinked at him in stunned silence.

“Yes.” He answered simply, tone quiet and dangerous as the kid seemed to heed his unspoken warning. Either that or he had decided that Eddie was right and it would have been rude to point out how annoying he was. “Alright.” Eddie said after a moment of silence. Finally finished his equation and ready to move on. “Are you guys opening the door or not?” He asked tiredly, giving them a moment to make a decision.

“I think we all agree we want to open it.” Jeff answered for them, a murmur of agreement moving around the table as Eddie nodded, taking a breath and readying himself to speak.

“Okay.” He began holding up his hands to articulate his words. “The weary travelers are given a choice. When faced with such a bold decision, it would be wise to take a little longer to make up one's mind as you never know what kind of dangers are lur–”

“Eddie, now you sound funny.” Jack exclaimed, his pudgy finger an inch from Eddie’s nose as he giggled at the man’s expression. The group around the table bursting into fits of laughter.

The Dungeon Master looked up at them all exasperatedly before turning back to Jack.

“I… Yes I’m..” He started to explain, giving up as Jack turned his attention on something else mid sentence and the laughter from the club began to die down. Eddie sighed to himself, holding up his hands once more and trying again. “-dangers are lurking behind the–“ He stopped, dropping his arms to his sides and huffing indignantly as the cackling reared up again.

“Really? That’s all it took?” He deadpanned. “I DM for you guys for a fucking year but a toddler points out I’m using a ‘funny voice’ and it’s hysterical?”

“Sorry dude it’s just… Like he’s right. I don’t know, his comedic timing was on point.” Gareth laughed out, the others agreeing with the sentiment as Jack looked around excitedly at the group he had made laugh. Slapping his palm eagerly against Jeff’s as the man held it up for him to high five across the table.

“I like Aunty Kam’s friends!” Jack said with a grin as Eddie turned to him in exasperation.

“They’re my friends.” He argued, tone a little more wounded than he’d intended.

“Oh?” Jack balked, looking up at Eddie sceptically as the guys around the table broke into roaring laughter once more at the statement. “Are you sure?” He asked frankly, bending forward as Dustin’s chest pressed against his back. The teen, not able to help physically doubling over, he was laughing so hard.

“No.” Eddie answered tersely, narrowed eyes stopping on each of them pointedly as he waited for them to stop having a good time at his expense.

Eddie had been bullied quite a bit in his young life but he was quickly learning the hard way that no scornful words from someone that disliked him could ever feel quite as brutal as the honesty of a small child that didn’t realize they were hurting feelings. 

“How long has it been?” He asked suddenly, pulling up his arm to check his watch and realizing he hadn’t looked at the time when John left. He only had a guess to go by based on what time his friends arrived and how far into the session they had been.

“About  ten minutes.” Karmen answered from behind him, a sly smile on her face as Eddie turned to look at her with guilty eyes. “Are you done yet?” She asked with a laugh. “He’s a handful when you’re trying to concentrate isn’t he?” 

Eddie turned back to Jack, watching as the kid bounced up and down on Dustin’s knee, picking up everything he could find within his grasp and asking questions about each item before discarding them anywhere but where he’d picked it up from. Seemingly oblivious to the battle Eddie was fighting between his brain and his heart. 

Doing what he wanted to versus what he knew was right.

He sighed aloud, plastering a fake smile on his lips before turning back to Karmen.

“Nope, not done.” He answered cheerily. “We’re fine here, thank you.”

She raised a brow at him skeptically, watching with folded arms as Jack lunged for Eddie’s calculator. Misjudging the distance and launching  not only the ceramic duck off the table but the calculator too, sending it hurdling with lighting speed. 

Karmen winced as the duck hit the ground, smashing into three pieces at Eddie’s feet. While the electronic device continued to sail in the air for about a foot before being stopped by the object in its path.

The person… In its path.

Silence descended on the room as Eddie doubled over. Hands fisted together in front of his crotch where the calculator had just connected. The device fell from his pelvis to the floor beside the broken duck with a large clunk. The sound of broken plastic as the back of the battery pack popped off, didn’t do much to stifle the long wheezing groan of pain Eddie let forth. 

Both of the batteries flew out of the compartment in different directions. One of them hitting against the leg of the table and rolling under Dustin’s chair while the other landed in front of Karmen’s feet. Rolling slowly to a stop as it hit against the side of her bare foot. 

She stared down at it for a second, eyes flicking up to watch as Eddie decided his pride wasn’t worth saving and he took a knee, gasping in pain as he shuffled over, pulling a piece of duck from the denim and resting a forearm heavily on the edge of the table.

He pressed his face into it and huffed out a long shaky breath.

His shoulders were shaking and Karmen couldn’t tell if he was actually crying or just pantomiming as he recovered from the blows to his dick, his knee and his ego.

“Oops.” Jack said loudly after a moment of collective silence. All eyes in the room bar Eddie’s turning to the boy as he shrugged in an exaggerated manner. “Sowwy.” 

A sniffing sound from behind them had the boy turning. Locking eyes with Karmen along with everyone else in the room as she pressed her lips together harshly, eyes watering as her shoulders shook, breath erratic as she tried her darndest not to laugh. 

Losing the battle abruptly and barking out a strangled sound that snowballed quickly into hearty laughter at Eddie’s expense.

The rest of the table followed suit and doubled over against the wooden top in hysterics. Rambunctious laughter that shook the game board and threatened to topple all the little characters in the middle as they hollered heartily in response to Eddie’s pain.

The shaking table rattled the Dungeon Master’s teeth. He pulled his face away. Bracing his forearm on it and pushing himself back up onto his feet now that the pain in his crotch had begun to subside.

He slid backward into his chair. Resting his elbows on his knees and placing his face into his palms as he waited for everyone to calm down. He stared down at the broken duck under his feet. Feeling about the same as even Kam laughed at his expense.

He jumped at the feel of a hand on his back. Looking up and expecting to see her standing there but the space beside him was empty. He looked down instead, locking eyes with Jack who had slipped off Dustin’s lap in the chaos and was staring into Eddie’s dejected brown orbs with his bright blue ones, wide and full of wonder.

“Sowwy Eddie.” He said again, sure this time that the man could hear him. “Can I still play?” He asked softly, large eyes suddenly bashful as the laughter around the table died down and Eddie levelled him with a tired stare.

Eddie held a sigh deep inside his lungs as he forced himself to fix his face. A grin splitting across it from ear to ear as he winked at the kid and nodded with feigned excitement.

“Don’t worry about it Jackie.” He said softly, sitting back and motioning for the kid to jump up on his lap again. “Of course you can.” He added, turning to Karmen as she walked up beside him. An apologetic smile on her face as she handed him one of the batteries and bent down to pick up the calculator and the pieces of duck from the floor.

She handed him the device. A legitimate warm smile on her features. He took it from her, noting the way her eyes sparkled as she raked them up and down his figure before swiping his bangs out of the way and placing a wet kiss on his forehead.

She didn’t care about the duck and she was thankful.

Jack held up grabby hands at her as she pulled away, making her chuckle as she did the same for him. The kid giggled and squirmed as she held him in place for longer than she had Eddie. Making a show of the kiss being extra sloppy just so he would exclaim disgust and wipe it away after she pulled back.

Jack did just that. Looking up at her annoyed as she ruffled his hair and retreated to the back of the house. Leaving the group sitting in silence as they all eyed Eddie warily and waited to see what would happen next.

“Alright.” Eddie sighed, one arm wrapped around Jack’s middle as the other grabbed hold of the bottom of his chair and scooched it forward. The grating sound of wood scraping on wood reverberated around the room as he looked up at them with the same fake smile he’d given Jack. Although this one was somehow a little more unnerving. “Roll.” He said simply. Picking up his pen and going back to his equations. This time manually as he was still missing a battery somewhere.

The guys looked around the table, catching gazes, shaking heads and shrugging until Dustin cleared his throat, piping up for all of them and asking:

“Who?”

“Whoever is opening the door.” Eddie answered, not looking up from his notepad.

“I’ll do it.” Mike volunteered, pushing himself up from his chair and reaching for the dice he needed. He looked around at the others hesitantly, pausing for a moment before jiggling the piece of plastic in between his palms and letting it go over top of the board. All eyes around the table watching as it halted on a number and Eddie looked up from his math. A small huff through his nose as he flicked his eyes to Mike and smiled widely.

“Dead.” 

“What?” Mike yelped, making Jack laugh against Eddie’s forearm as the man smiled up at the teen. Nodding once before looking away and addressing the rest of the table.

“Who’s up?” He asked as Mike began to protest.

“What do you mean dea–” 

“Oh sorry.” Eddie interjected quickly. “You’re dead.” He clarified. “Your character is dead. Who’s next?” He asked again, the collective silent horror of the club around the table making Jack’s giggling at Eddie’s candidness seem a lot louder than he actually was.

“But… But we don’t…” Jeff began.

“Know what dangers lurk behind the door?” Eddie asked, staring at him pointedly. “No, I wouldn’t imagine you do because you didn’t let me finish.”

“That’s not fair!” The young Wheeler shouted, thrusting a hand towards Jack. “He cut you off, not us!” 

Eddie hummed softly in agreement, tilting his head and leaning over slightly to look down at Jack who turned to look up at him at the same time. Eddie frowned at the kid for a second, his lips quirking into a smile as he winked at him once more.

“You did interrupt.” Eddie agreed with a sigh. “So what do you think, my little assistant DM?” He asked, bouncing his thigh to drive home that he meant Jack.. “Do you think Mike should get another turn at opening the door?” He asked, raising his brows and waiting for him to reply.

Jack stared at him with awe-filled eyes, mouth falling open as he gasped in excitement. Twisting abruptly away from Eddie and making strong eye contact with Mike as he threw his hands up and shouted:

“Dead!” 

“Atta’ boy.” Eddie laughed, nodding to himself as he grinned for real this time. Pushing himself up onto his feet and holding Jack around the middle. The toddler screamed in glee as Eddie held him parallel to the table. Describing Mike’s character piece and instructing the kid to remove it from the table however he saw fit.

A little hand swiped against the plastic, the character flying across the room as the calculator had and pinging off the glass of the dining room window as Eddie laughed maniacally and Mike screeched about following the rules. 

“There are no rules here anymore Wheeler.” Eddie laughed, voice boarding on unhinged as he flopped back down into his chair and replaced Jack on his knee. “The first rule of my campaigns is to respect the DM.” He said snarkily, sitting back against the chair like an entitled King and smirking as the group rolled their eyes in his direction. “Which all of you, break consistently.” He added, tone commanding. “So let’s try it your way then.” He added. “Rules are out the window. Like Mike’s Paladin.” He smiled sarcastically, a chuckle rounding the table at the joke as Eddie set dark eyes on Dustin next. The kid snapped his mouth shut in an instant and tried to pretend as though he hadn’t been snickering.

“Roll.” 

~~

John pulled the squeaking handbrake on in his work truck and removed the keys from the ignition. Opening the door he jumped from the step and slammed it behind him in one swift motion. Sighing to himself as he turned towards the road that divided his and Karmen’s houses. 

His errand had taken a little more than two hours. Which wasn’t too bad. But he had promised Karmen an hour. So he knew she would have something to say about being right. 

He twirled his keys around his finger, looking up at the feel of moisture falling from the sky and frowning at the clouds as he realized it was spitting. He sighed again, placing his keys in his back jeans pocket and pulling his jacket closer to himself. He rested his gaze in front of him again, checking for traffic as he reached the sidewalk. 

He crossed the road, starting to walk across the grass towards the front steps when movement caught his eyes from the driveway. He turned to look for the source, tilting his head in confusion as he spied Karmen sitting in the driver's seat of her car with her head in her hands.

He stopped walking, watching her for a second before his gaze was pulled towards the house. A chorus of frenzied yelling and maniacal laughter made him raise his brows as he watched what he could see of The Hellfire Club around the table through the dining room window. 

Eddie was on his feet, pointing at one of them with a deranged expression only egged on by Jack on his shoulders. Fistfuls of wild curls holding him in place as he moved his own little mouth in tune with Eddie’s. Both of them yelled at the table as the guys seemed to shout back, protesting something and quickly losing a battle they weren’t prepared for.

John blinked at the scene in front of him. Taking a step towards the house and changing his mind as he turned back to Karmen. Veering off the grass and onto the path towards the car.

He knocked against the glass, startling her and making her jump as she looked up at him with anger in her eyes and jerked her head towards the passenger seat.

He nodded, rounding the car and opening the door, intending to slip into the seat out of the rain and grumbling as he instead used moist hands to gently remove her paperwork from his path, placing it on the dash as he sat inside before closing the door with a thud and turning to her with pursed lips and expectant eyes.

“Sounds like everyone is having fun.” He said carefully after a moment of silence. Her own worn out eyes eating him alive as she stared at him with a wry expression. 

“Mm.” She hummed, turning back to the paper in her lap. “They’re loud.” She explained simply, knowing he didn’t actually ask but also that the next question out of his mouth would be why.

She ignored the way she could feel his eyes boring into her cheek as he waited for her to say more.

“I’ll pay you back, you know?” John said softly when he realized she really wasn’t going to say anything else.

“I do the payroll, you will definitely be paying me for this.” She said with a laugh, leaning towards the pile of papers he had stacked on the dash and flicking fingers through them as she searched for something.

“Yes.” He chuckled, watching as she began to lose her grip on the paper and pushing them closer to her. “But I meant all the babysitting.” He clarified, sitting back in the chair and studying the hands in his lap as he saw her head whip around in his peripherals. 

He could feel her staring as he had been at her. Not daring to look up until he saw her look away and knew she was sitting back in her own seat, staring out of the windscreen as the small droplets of water raced one another down the glass to the bonnet.

“Eddie will be a good Dad.” He said as he lifted his head, turning to look at her and watching as she scrunched her nose at his words, eyes watering as they flicked towards him and they finally caught each.

“I told you not to lie to me again.” She whispered, shaking her head as he scoffed at her.

“You don’t think he will be a good Dad?” He asked incredulously as she leaned closer and slapped her hand against his arm.

“Of course I do!” She snapped playfully. “He will be a wonderful Dad.” She added angrily. “Don’t lie to me that you think he will be a good one.” She explained, making him balk.

“I’m not!” He justified, shrugging at her with an open mouth as she shook her head disappointedly. “He will be a good Dad!” He said again, damn near shouting it.

“Okay John.” She said sarcastically, making a face as she imitated his accent. “Father of the Year.” She said with a dragged out Southern drawl. Swinging her forearm wildly as if she was a caricature of a redneck in a cartoon.

“Fuck you.” John laughed, pointing a finger at her face before lowering it to point at her belly. “Not you.” He clarified. “Just you.” He nodded, raising it back up to point at Karmen again as she tried to slap it away with a handful of papers and they both laughed at the absurdity of her fanning him with them in an effort to get him to move.

“Seriously though.” She said as she lowered the papers to her lap. “I appreciate it.” She said softly as John smiled at her earnestly. “But I will never let you watch my child.” She added, grimacing as the words came out and opening her door before he could react. Slipping from the car and stopping outside the window to point down at the papers she’d left on her seat on the way out. 

“They need to be done by the morning.” She said, raising her voice through the glass as John stared up at her in horror. The click of the doors locking made him swivel in his seat as he pulled at the handle and nothing happened. 

He turned back, mouth falling open as he watched Karmen already ascending the front steps hastily to get herself out of the rain. Her keys jingling in her hand as she went.

~~

Click

John’s eyes snapped open at the sound, sitting up abruptly and knocking the makeshift blanket of paperwork from his body as he turned to look out the window, ready to yell at Karmen for locking him in but instead making strong eye contact with Eddie who smiled at him amusedly.

“She forgot about me, didn’t she?” John asked flatly as Eddie took a step back so he could open the door and let himself out.

“No comment.” Eddie replied, as the other man shook his head. Leaning back into the car and gathering his work before stepping out of the way of the door and watching as Eddie closed it and relocked it with a set of keys that were definitely not his. A fluffy blue heart dangled from them as he jiggled them in lock and clicked it over.

“I could have suffocated in there.” John griped.

“Pfft.” Eddie scoffed as he stepped back again, leaning against his own car as he made room for John to move past him. “You would have been fine until morning.” 

“Speaking of morning.” John grumbled. “What time is it?” He asked, taking in the fact that it was dark along with Eddie’s half dressed state. 

No shirt, boxer shorts and an open robe that showed off the scars down his chest and neck. A pair of pink slippers that were several sizes too small just barely protecting his feet from the wet ground.

“Like… Ten?” Eddie guessed, bringing his hand up to look at his watch and sighing as he remembered he had taken it off to shower after Jack fell asleep and never actually made it to the shower before Karmen had ambushed him with thanks for being such a good babysitter.

He smiled to himself at the memory as John gaped in response.

“What?” He exclaimed. “Ten?” He asked. “Where’s Jack?”

“Asleep in our bed.” Eddie answered quickly. “Which is why I was asleep on the couch.” He explained, as if John had that information already. “Until Kam scared the shit out of me by shaking me awake and telling me you were stuck in there and I had to let you out because you’d kill her.” 

“I hate you both.” John replied with a nod. Eddie nodded back in understanding as the other man huffed in exasperation “But thanks for the nap.” He added, holding up the stack of papers and handing them to Eddie with a smile. “Tell Kam these need to be done by the morning.” 

“Will do.” Eddie replied, oblivious to what he had just agreed to. John sniggered to himself and started on the short journey back to his own home. “Tell her to bring Jack over when she drops off the paperwork.” He added over his shoulder, watching as Eddie gave him a sarcastic salute before heading back towards the steps and inside the house. 

He stared at the paperwork for a long minute. Shaking his head as he realized it had been written on quite a bit and he flicked through it briefly to see that John had actually completed it for her. 

He sniffed out a laugh. Sitting it on the counter as he walked into the kitchen. Hanging up her keys on the fridge next to a small black and white picture dated one week earlier.

Eddie smiled at it. Pressing a kiss to the tips of his fingers before placing them gingerly on top of the sonogram.

“I hope you have as much fun playing DnD with me as Jack did.” He whispered to the baby in the picture. “But I don’t think the guys are gonna’ like that the Assistant DM slot is going to be permanently filled.” He chuckled, taking his hand back. “Eh, they still have six months to get used to the idea.” He said with a shrug.

He turned away, heading down the hall towards the bedroom to let Karmen know he had completed her side quest and was ready to go back to the main storyline now. 

~~

More Notes: Karmen did not intend to leave John in there for more than 10 minutes. Just FYI. But pregnancy brain is a bitch. 😂

I started writing this one 2 years ago just so I could use the title because I thought that was fun. It took a long ass time but it's finally here and I really hope you liked it.

Read the rest of the series here :)

This series is so personal to me, so it means the world to me when someone let’s me know they enjoy a work from this series. If you guys liked this please pleaseee consider letting me know via comment, reblog, message, anon ask etc.  

Tags: @3ddi3-daydreamer @micheledawn1975 @munson-blurbs @wheels-of-despair @browneyes528 @stevemunsons

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

SCREAM MASTERPOST

*= smut

CHAD MEEKS MARTIN

Bodybag | Riley!Reader

Chad comforts you after Dewey's death

Cockblock roommate *

Ethan stops you and Chad from continuing your activities

Don't go upstairs with him

Chad stops you from going upstairs with Frankie...and then confesses to you

Goodnight kiss * | Riley!Reader

Chad walks you home and finally takes your relationship to the next level

Helping hand *

After Chad gets released from the hospital, his personal nurse gives him a helping hand

I can't go through this again

Another ghostface strikes and Chad has PTSD from the legacy murders

Is that my shirt?

Chad notices that the shirt you're wearing is his

Late night in the kitchen *

During a trip to the twins' family cabin, you and Chad have a late night adventure in the kitchen

Save a horse, ride a cowboy *

You make a move on Chad and end up in an empty bedroom with his cowboy hat on, riding another kind of horse

Setting up the tree

You and Chad decorate the Christmas tree together

Stab stab stab

Chad gets stabbed by Ghostface when looking for you

Stood up

You get stood up and Chad offers you his shoulder to cry on

The no-sex rule *

You and Chad don't listen to Mindy's 'surviving a horror movie' rules

Wrong person

You send you nudes to your ex by mistake

You drew stars around my scars

You sleep over at Chad's dorm and see something you hadn't seen before

MINDY MEEKS MARTIN

Blood on the subway

Mindy gets stabbed on the subway...there's a lot of blood

Give me attention *

Mindy works on a school assignement, but you're bored and decide to tease her

Movie night

After watching the horror that is Halloween Ends, Mindy needs kisses to erase the movie from her memory

Skilled fingers *

Mindy is a goddess in bed

TARA CARPENTER

Caught *

Tara asks you to use a vibrator on her...and Sam walks in

I was so scared

After Tara gets attacked at her house, you visit her at the hospital

Is this good? *

Tara tries to top for the first time

I thought you were dead

You survive the attack inside the shrine

Sleepover *

It's the first sleepover since Tara got attacked in her house. You and her breaks the friendship

We might die tomorrow

After Sam and Tage get attacked at the bodega, everyone stayed over at the appartement

ETHAN LANDRY

Catching feelings *

You grown feelings during a game of teasing your roommate Ethan

Friends touch each other, right? *

You teach virgin!Ethan how to touch a woman

I can't forgive you | Riley!Reader

Ethan betrays you, but you can't forgive him

It's you *

You figure out Ethan is Ghostface

Let's play a little game *

You get a phone call from a masked ID when you’re home alone…

Night visits

As Quinn's friend, you are not allowed to see her little brother, so you and Ethan have a secret relationship

No protection needed *

You and Ethan do it without a condom for the first time

Play with me *

Ethan asks you to play with him

Panty stealer

Pervy!Ethan steals your panties

Pretty boy * | camgirl!reader

Ethan purchases a private session with his favorite camgirl

Pretty boy part 2 *

Ethan purchases another private session...and get the girl's number

Pretty boy part 3 *

Camgirl!Reader and Ethan finally meets

Roomie *

Ethan jerks off to his roommate and gets caught

Shy!Ethan

Ethan has a huge crush on you but is too shy to make a move...so you make one

Study time

Studying econ turns into teasing your boyfriend

That's hot

You find out that Ethan does boxing

Video games *

You give Ethan a blowjob while he games with Chad

Video girl *

You convince Ethan to make a video with you

BILLY LOOMIS

Knife play

You seduce Billy with the knife he used to kill Maureen Prescott

Ménage à trois * | Billy x Stu x Reader

A typical movie night at Stu’s turns into a ménage à trois

Mouthful * | Billy x Stu x Riley!Reader

Why settling for one when you can get two?

PG-16 at the Theater

Billy gets handsy at the movie theater

Stranger danger *

Billy decide to surprise you on your way back from Tatum's

Talk dirty to me *

Phone sex with Billy

[macden]

thinking about season 5 and rcg writing macdennis romantic on purpose and saying on the commentary for break up that they’re gay they’re clearly gay they’re closeted homosexuals and dennis getting hate crimed at his frat and then at the very start of the next season his immediate reaction to mac saying gay marriage is wrong is that he should be married and looking at mac when he says I don’t love you maureen I never loved you and glenn on set for that exact scene in the kitchen jokingly going to kiss rob because the subtext of the scene they’re filming is that dennis loves mac more than he could ever love a woman and it’s always been on PURPOSE and ouuuyggghhhhhhhhj I’m unzipped

[copingwithobsessions]

Billy is autistic ♾

Just me rambling about an headcanon I take wayyyy too seriously :)

Hyperfixation : horror movies (obviously)

He just keeps talking about it. All the time.

Like

Also him using his hands while talking in this scene

(There's also something to be said about him mentioning the queer actors and not the 'straight' characters but that will be for another post-)

Also in the phone call where we're sure it's him :

(If he was the one calling Casey then there's even more-)

Also him just constantly talking with movie-related things : "It was edited for TV- all the good stuff was cut out", "nice solid R rating, on our way to a NC-17", "lately we're just sort of edited for television", "Maybe your movie-freaked mind lost it's reality button","It's all a movie, it's all...one great big movie.Only you can't pick your genre","I think she wants a motive","I don't really believe in motive, Sid.", "See it's a lot scarier when there's no motive Sid", "Is that motive enough for you ?", "How's that for a motive ?", "Just pretend it's all a scary movie Sid...How do you think it's gonna end ?", "Perfect ending.", "Now Sid, don't you blame the movies. Movies don't create psychos, movies make psychos more creative !" and basing his killing spree on horror movie tropes : phone calls, masked killer, virgins being the final girls (literally having sex with Sidney to fulfill the trope), 'no motive' etc...

2. Abnormal posture

3. Staring (last 2 photos, both scenes in Sidney's room, police station scene...basically when there's Sid) or excessive blinking (doorway scene, kitchen scene...(basically when there's Stu)

4. Plans and changements

Billy (and Stu) planned their entire killing spree (from the dates it would be on : surrounding the one year anniversary of Maureen's death, to the person they would frame and his supposed motive as well as Casey and Steve's murders with the phone call, the attack at Sidney's house, Billy's incarceration, Stu's phone call following it, Billy's fake death, kidnapping Neil before his flight and using his phone, hiding his car, using a voice changer, stabbing each other to seem like victims, the party etc...)

When Billy's (and Stu's) plans get changed (Dewey, Gale and Kenny being present, Sid escaping the kitchen with her dad and Stu losing too much blood), Billy panics and goes into what could be defined as a meldown : throwing out insults, walking in circles, never going to check on the first floor, destroying Stu's living room and just panicking all around-

(When he fails getting Sidney to trust him and makes her escape to the toilets, he punches himself in frustation)

5. Insociability

Basically doesn't talk in the fountain scene

Awkward and Unsettling while talking, even to his friends

Doesn't pay attention to girls being interested in him

Doesn't seem at ease with the number of people leaving the party

(Even fidgeting though that may be just be him checking that the people are leaving for real)

6. Overdramatic

7. Favorite person/people

Okay this one's not that common in autistics but for Billy, he definitely has a special person, two in fact :

He literally started killing because his mom "moved out and abandoned" him.

For Stu, I will be vague cause I'll talk about it in detail in the other post 👀but basically he's not really himself unless Stu's there and planned a killing spree where only they would survive (+ trusted him to stab him).

Bonus : If Billy is the one who called Casey

"I only eat popcorn at the movies" Well I'm getting ready to watch a video "Really what ?" Oh, just some scary movie "You like scary movies ?" Huhuh "What's your favorite scary movie ?" Hum- I don't know... "You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind ?" Hum...Halloween ! You know the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters. "Yeah." What's yours ? "Guess." Hum- Nightmare on Elm Street ! "Isn't that the one where the guy had knives for fingers ?" Yeah, Freddy Krueger. "Freddy, that's right. I liked that movie.It was scary." Well the first one was but the rest sucked."

"It's an easy category : movie trivia"

"Come on, it's your favorite scary movie, remember ? He had a white mask, he stalked the babysitters"

"Then you should know Jason's mother, Mrs Vorhees, was the original killer ! Jason didn't show up until the sequel."

And that's it ! A complete analysis of what could be considered autistic traits from Billy that got way too long-

[sharpth1ng]

How did Hank react to Maureens death? How did Billy feel about that reaction?

I don't think Hank and Maureen had a deep emotional relationship and I write Hank as a pretty repressed guy so I think he probably tried to seem as normal as possible to keep the status quo. Basically react to it like she's just his son's girlfriend's mom and not a woman he had an affair with.

It doesn't seem like it's well known that there was an affair either, it's news to Sid when Billy does his reveal in the kitchen scene. So yk, Hank probably wouldn't want that getting out, especially because it would put him in connection to a murder.

This would piss Billy the fuck off. On an unconscious level I think he partly killed Maureen because he wanted to teach Hank a lesson, he wanted to hurt him, and he used Maureen to do that. When he doesn't get enough of a reaction it makes him mad as hell. Not like theres a lot he can say about it without giving himself away though.

That said I don't think Hank would be able to keep up the mask forever, it would crack sometimes so Billy gets a least a little satisfaction out of it.

[applesaucesims]

Flowerfest was meant to be big celebration for the McGregor family. Emma and Niall had even purchased some cute matching outfits and accessories for their children, as well as themselves, so they would be getting some pretty family photographs later.

While the adults were still adding the finishing touches to their own outfits and preparing the holiday meal inside, the children went on their egg hunt in the backyard. Even little Maurice could participate, since he had just grown big enough to play and walk around outside with his siblings.

Emma had just finished baking a strawberry cake to have for dessert, when her preparations were interrupted by the phone ringing. Her parents were expected to visit later that day for the holiday, so it did not surprise her to hear her mother's voice on the other end of the line.

However, the reason for her call was one of much sadder news. Earlier that morning, when Maureen had walked into her and her husband's bedroom to check whether he was already dressed in his Flowerfest best, she had found Edward still lying in bed. At first, she had assumed he had only gone to get some more rest before leaving, but she had quickly realised that this was not the case.

With tears starting to stream down her face, Maureen had lied down beside her husband's body, looking down at his peacefully closed eyes which made it seems as though he really was only sleeping, but she knew better. Sobbing quietly, she had cuddled up closer to him and buried her face in his shoulder, partially wishing he would wake up any moment.

After the phone call, Emma had to prop herself up on the counter, hardly even able to form a thought. She felt a tear roll down her cheek, as she watched her laughing children through the kitchen window. How was she going to break the news to them on what was supposed to be a day of joy for the family?

Part of her wanted to just stay in place forever, trying to hold on to that moment in time, before the news of her father's death would leave her little bubble. For now, she was the only one in the house who knew about it, while speaking a word of it would somehow make it feel so much more real. But she knew it had to be done. After all, the kids were still expecting to see their grandfather's visit.

[bovineblogger]

If you want a thoroughly cow-themed restaurant, you should look up Maureen's Kitchen in New York. It's cows all the way down. Big cow statue outside, cow head on the front of the building, hundreds of novelty ceramic cows in glass cases all over the restaurant, other cow knick-knacks on shelves on the walls, cow print seats, cow print tablecloths, cow garden gnomes outside, cow print mugs... its truly the cow lover's dream. Not to mention the best damn breakfast you'll ever have. Bucket list restaurant for anyone who is a fan of cows and is willing to actually go to Long Island.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! this is literally everything..................................cow themed restaurant........

[garbinge]

10 Years

Chibs Telford x F!Reader

30 Day Fic Challenge

Word Count: 4k A/N: I'm realizing now it took me so long to write all these fics because they're all easily over 1k lololol. Back in my chibby erraaa <3

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of guns, violence, blood, bullet wounds, getting shot, death, and pining.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

You gave up the hope that the bell on the door gave you years ago. Everytime they hit the door, you’d look up to see who was there. It started with a smile, everytime you looked up you had a smile on your face, then it eventually faded to a neutral one, then somewhere along the line, you didn’t even bother looking up and just greeted the door with some remark. 

“Welcome to Ashby’s, holler if you need anything.” You didn’t even look up from the inventory you were doing. 

“Take your time, love.” 

The voice was enough to trigger all that hope again. You felt your body shake, your heart skipped, and your eyes immediately looked up to a sea full of leather at the door. 

“Mother of Christ.” You mumbled the words as you looked at the group of them, but mainly just at Chibs. 

“I’m looking for Maureen Ashby.” The blond you knew as Jackson Teller spoke up, his face looked tired, between the black bags under his eyes and the stubble growing from chin. 

���Maureen!” You called out, not taking your eyes off the boys. 

“Aye, don’t blow a fuse.’ She also had her head down similarly to you earlier.

“We got company.” You knew that would get her attention. 

Maureen didn’t seem as shocked to see them, but more so just not expecting them so soon. She brought them to the apartment out back, leaving you no time to talk with Chibs. It didn’t stop him from coming to leave a quick kiss on your forehead before he walked with the rest of the group. 

Work went by so slowly, your eyes were watching the clock and the door and you swore time went back minutes instead of forward. It didn’t help that the store wasn’t exactly booming with business, large groups of bikers hanging outside seemed to deter a lot of everyday business. 

You were closing up, locking the cash register and turning off the lights. As you went to the front door, you stretched up to grab the metal arm of the locking mechanism drilled to the top of the door. 

“Was coming to see you.” His voice didn’t startle you like one would have during closing time. You simply just turned around to see him standing at the doorway in the back that connected to Maureen’s place. He still had his SAMCRO jacket on, his hair was oily, likely the result of a long, stressful day. 

“Funny enough, so was I.” You went back to locking up the door, grunting to make sure the locks were tight. 

“Drink on me? Outside?” Chibs was pointing over his shoulder behind him. 

You nodded and walked towards but not without stopping to grab the gun you kept behind the counter and tucking it in your waistband. 

“In case you boys brought fireworks to the party.” It was said dangerously close to Chibs as you paused in front of him before walking up the stairs to Maureen’s place. 

“Mother of Christ.” He mumbled under his breath and looked up to the sky before following you upstairs. 

“Locked up, sent in the inventory order and I’ll be here tomorrow mornin’ for the keg shipment.” You spoke to Maureen who was smoking a cigarette at her kitchen table. 

“Aye,” she nodded, “don’t worry about the kegs, I’ll have McGee put a prospect on it, it’s theirs anyways.” She smirked slightly and looked at Chibs behind you. “Enjoy your night, loves.” 

You nodded with a gratuitous smile and opened the door to walk downstairs. The noise was loud, it was incredible what Maureen’s house muted, it was insane out here. Tons of yelling, laughing, fighting, a large fire pit going on. 

Stopping on the landing of the stairs you looked out to take it all in, despite you working so closely with the Ireland charter, you never went to these types of things. 

“We can go somewhere more private if you’d like.” Chibs’ voice was precariously close to your ear. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” As you looked over your shoulder you saw how close you were to him and it was hard to stand by your statement of not wanting to be somewhere private with him. But you held strong and started your descent down the stairs. “Get me a beer, will ya?” 

Plopping down on one of the wooden picnic benches, you made yourself comfortable, eyes glued on the fight happening between some of the guys until it moved onto Jax who was getting ready to fight. 

“Looks like Jackie boy made himself a bet.” Chibs spoke up placing the bottle in front of you and sitting down on top of the table, his head looking over his shoulder to continue looking at Jax. 

“Crazy to see him so grown up. Remember him in naps practically.” You teased. 

“We’ve all done some growing up, I think.” Chibs wasn’t looking at you as he said it but you knew what he was insinuating. 

“Have we?” Your eyebrows raised, curious how he was going to respond. 

“Aye.” 

One word, spoke enough volume to you though. 

“How’s Kerianne?” You matched how he was carrying himself, not looking at him as you spoke, sipping your beer as a way to give yourself something to do. 

“She’s good, upstairs with Trinity in her room.” 

“How was the ride over?” You were exhausting your small talk options. 

“A pile of shite.” He laughed at that one remembering the mess of just trying to get here. 

“It true?” You nodded towards Jax who was starting to get into the ring. “‘Bout Jax’s boy?” 

“Not too sure, was going to ask you if you knew or heard anything?” 

That made your face drop. “You’re kidding me, right?” Now you weren’t afraid to look at him. “That’s why you came to speak with me, to pull out any information I might have, what was your plan, Filip? Sleep with me and get me to pillowtalk any information I had? Maybe drown me in a little Irish courage and hope I’d spill it? Well here, I’ll save you the trouble, love, I don’t know shite, I’m lucky if I get a heads up about the fucking kegs let alone club business.” 

After you went off on him, you started to stand up to leave when he caught your arm. “You know that’s not why I asked.” 

Turning around with speed and fury, the anger faded almost immediately when you looked at him. After all these years, you could still tell when he was being genuine. 

“I don’t know anything about Jax’s boy, just know Jimmy’s boys like to come around a lot and rough up anyone who's not down with the cause.” 

It was like you spoke it to existence because as the words left your mouth, the gunshots from outside the fence began. 

Chibs was quick to jump in front of you and bring you down behind a couple crates and kegs. You were in his lap, his left arm was holding you tight against him, while his right was following his body and peering over the side of the wooden crate letting out shots back to where they were coming from. Your mumbled grunt of pain caused him to look back down at you where he saw the blood slightly pooling at his hand. 

“You’re hit.” He scrambled to find where the bullet was to apply pressure. 

“No shit, Chibs.” His nickname flew out of your mouth like it was so effortless, any other time he might’ve smiled at it but he was too busy pressing his arm against your shoulder. Despite the pain you were in, you were trying to take your good arm and reach for your waistband. 

“Stop squirming, you’ll bleed out.” He whispered it so he didn’t compromise your position. 

“I’m trying to get my gun.” You whispered back. 

That’s when his eyes fell on your pants and saw the handle of the gun. He knew he was low on ammo, one of the reasons why he stopped shooting haphazardly along with the fact that you were bleeding all over the place. 

He reached down to grab the gun from you and you practically slapped him with your head as you turned up to look at him. 

“What are you doing?! That’s MY gun, let me shoot at them.”

 “Trust me, I much rather you have it, love.” Chibs said with humor knowing very well that you could easily take out a person for every bullet in the magazine. “But you can’t even reach for it, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to use it.” 

“Might as well shoot me with it while you’re at it.” You said jokingly, out of frustration, as you leaned over so Chibs could grab it. 

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but someone already beat me to it.” He was leaning over himself now and looking to see where the shooting was but it had just stopped and the sound of tires squealing filled the air. 

After a brief second of silence, the terror and chaos on the lot began. Yells and screams replaced the silence. You heard the SAMCRO boys calling out for one another, you heard other names first but then you heard them call out for the man who was stopping you from bleeding out. 

“Over here! We’re hit!” He yelled out, now trying to adjust you in the best way possible. 

“We aren’t shit, Filip, I’m hit!” You corrected him despite part of you being smug by his use of we. 

“Love the commitment to the attitude, love, but let’s focus on just keeping you from bleeding out.” 

Jax materialized in front of you and was helping to stand the both of you up. Chibs moved in front of you now, still holding your shoulder with pressure, but the blood was still dripping down your chest. 

“We gotta bring her upstairs.” 

“Yea, her and a few others.” Jax said as he looked quickly at the lot where a good chunk of people were injured, some likely dead. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just give me a patch up and take care of me last, it’s my shoulder not an artery, I’m dripping blood because you’re using the arm of your jacket to apply pressure, give me gauze or something.”

“Hap!” Jax yelled and within seconds the bald, tall, skinny, and a little bit scary man appeared. “Get a rag or a shirt or something and come put pressure on this and then bring her upstairs.” Just as quick as Jax was delivering orders was as quick as both of them were walking away. 

Now with Chibs in front of you, the only thing you could really do was look at him. The adrenaline was obviously still coursing through both of your bodies as your chests rose and fall.  Your grip on him was tight and as the two of you just stood there with the madness happening around you. The reality began to settle in and the pain in your shoulder started to throb and to make matters worse you started to take in the scene around you. 

The screaming was now more apparent and you heard it alongside the ringing in your ears. As your mouth opened, and your heart sped up, your voice got hitched in your throat and almost inaudible sound came from your mouth. A hand was then cupping your cheek and lightly pushing your head to face forward. That’s when you looked at his eyes and they were calm, and grounded while yours must’ve looked panicked and worried. 

“Breathe.” He said it so soft it was insane to think someone could be so relaxed at a moment like this. In fact, you had once been the type to be relaxed at moments like this, years ago, which at this moment felt like lifetimes ago. But all that changed when you were shot, the first time, in a situation so similar to this. 

“I know what’s happening and you just gotta breathe.” Chibs spoke again, this time wiping the tear from your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pressed against your shoulder. 

Before you could answer, Happy had come back and everything changed within seconds. Chibs was no longer applying pressure to your wound, Happy was, and you were being rushed up the stairs. 

You took one more look around and saw Chibs helping Jax with the chaos, and that’s when you told yourself to keep it together. As you were ushered up the stairs, you swallowed your panic and just fully went into disassociation. 

“So why they call you Happy?” You spoke to the man who was applying rough pressure to your shoulder now. 

“Because I’m a happy guy.” He grunted, not bothering to look you in the eye when he spoke. 

As you reached the top quarter of the steps, only about 7 of them left, the door swung open. You expected to see Maureen but instead were met with Trinity and Kerianne looking mortified and curious as to what was happening. 

“Inside, NOW!” You yelled at them as you made it up the rest of the stairs. 

“Just like that.” Happy was a little impressed by your shout and comparing his explanation of himself being a happy guy to your outburst. 

Both of you stepped into the house and Maureen appeared and yelled similarly at the girls but ordered them to grab first aid. 

“Bring her here.” Maureen was clearing off the kitchen table. Happy helped you up on the table and stood there pressing the rag deep into your shoulder. It worked, the blood had stopped dripping down your body, you felt the throbbing ten times now. 

The chaos continued around you, you heard Chib’s voice a few times, giving medical orders, a few of the other guys too. 

“Talk to me, Happy.” It was the only way your mind wasn’t going to spiral. 

“Uh,” He said thinking of what to say, he wasn’t much of a chatter, he just did what he was told and killed people. 

“Think of something, anything.” You begged him as the panic started to set back in. “Talk to me about the fucking weather, about your hobbies, about your fucking favorite food, I don’t care, Happy but I need you to talk to me.” Your eyes were burning into his skull. 

“I like noodles.” He said confidently. 

“Noodles?” You questioned as you let out a laughy breath. 

“Noodles.” He nodded. 

“Well Happy, I make a mean Lo Mein and after this, I’ll owe you a meal.” 

There was a slight smirk to Happy’s face before he nodded. “Does it hurt?” 

“Not my first time being shot, so the pain’s familiar.” You spoke up through your gritted teeth. 

Happy leaned down to show you the scar on his head that looked about a year old. “Not my first rodeo either.” 

“Forgive me, Happy, but that doesn’t surprise me.” You laughed. 

“Why?” He genuinely looked confused. 

“You’re terrifying, Happy.” Your head now was turned the other way trying to get a glimpse at what was happening down the hall. 

“Thank you.” This time his smile was large as he accepted what he thought was a compliment. 

What felt like hours passed but it was likely only minutes. The sweat was starting to pool at your forehead, the chills were starting to take over your autonomy. It was obviously alarming enough because Happy was calling out for help. 

One of the guys from the SAMBEL charter, Paddy, Chib’s nephew, came over and immediately started to pour liquid down your arm and grab whatever he could to pull the bullet out of your shoulder. Your screams were drowning out everything around you. As a few more people moved around you to help, you hoped one of them would be him but when you didn’t see his face, you didn’t have enough time to ask for him because everything eventually went to black. 

You woke up feeling someone rubbing your leg, the pain in your arm was more achey now, more stiff, and you felt exhausted. Sitting up, you saw Chibs at the foot of the bed you were in. 

“Trinity’s room?” You looked around taking in the posters and chachkeys around the room. 

“Aye.” He nodded, not looking at you. 

“I yelled at the girls earlier, told ‘em to go inside, think I scared ‘em.” 

“You did.” Chibs let out a chuckle. “But it was good, they needed to be scared so they stayed inside.” 

“You scared me too.” His head turned to look at you for the first time since you woke up. “I was patching up this lad who got a bullet to his abdomen. Heard your screams, reminded me of–.” His sentence stopped short, his words getting stuck in his throat. 

“To your point, it was extremely reminiscent of what happened all those years ago.” You bent your legs closer to you and patted the bed for him to get closer to you. “Paddy sewed me up good, though.” You referred to his nephew who was the one taking care of you, your eyes looking down at the gauze on your shoulder, a little blood was leaking through but it was normal. 

“Yea, after he spent 5 minutes trying to find the bullet in you that went straight through, the dumb lad.” Chibs shook his head at the stupidity of his nephew. 

“Just didn’t want me losing my life on a kitchen table in Belfast.” You shrugged with one shoulder, your good one. “Reminds me of another Scottish lad.” 

“You, uh, wanna come back to the states with me?” Chibs’ face was frowning, he was confused like he was trying to figure out what to do. 

“If it was that simple, I would’ve come with you when this first happened.” 

“When this first happened, I was in the IRA, this is different now, the club can protect you, I can protect you. Take you away from here, from Jimmy, from the mess of this Irish Catholic shiteshow.” 

“What would I do in the lovely United of States?” You asked him, entertaining his idea. 

“Could run the books at T M, could get you something at the club, or I don’t know, you could just be an ol’ lady.” 

“Ahhh yes, where I wait for you to come home and sit completely in the dark on everything happening, does that sound like my type of life, love?.” 

“Doesn’t sound too far off from what you’re doing now, love.” A female voice sent both of your gazes to the door to see Gemma holding a tray with an orange pill bottle, a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of tea

“Gemma.” The greeting wasn’t cold persay, but it definitely wasn’t a warm welcome. 

“Meds.” She lifted the tray and placed it on the desk to your right. “Don’t let your stubbornness stand in the way of your happiness.” 

There were a million things you could respond back to her with, but you weren’t exactly in the best position to argue with her, nor did you honestly want to. 

“All I’m saying is, we’d be happy to have you.” It was said in the most kind way for Gemma, still with a little control and attitude in her tone, but probably as genuine as she could be. 

Chibs stood up to grab the medicine and bowl of porridge for you, placing it on the nightstand so it was easily reachable. 

Before either of you could speak to what Gemma said, Jax was knocking on the door. 

“Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to check in.” He wasn’t cleaned up at all, there were still smudges of blood on his neck, his shirt, in his hair. 

“It’s like a bus station in here anyway, the more the merrier.” You waved him in. 

“Just wanted to see how you’re feeling, darlin’.” He didn’t step in further, just stayed leaning on the door. 

“Like shite.” You laughed as you popped the pill into your mouth and grabbed the mug of tea to wash it down. “How’s Happy? Hope I didn’t give ‘em a scare when I passed out.” 

Jax laughed, “I think you made an impression on him. He keeps talking about how you’re gonna make him Lo Mein?” Jax spoke confused but with a chuckle. 

“Glad I could provide a silver lining.” 

‘Maureen told me to give you these.” The packaged gauze was lifted up and then tossed on the desk next to the tray. 

“We should probably change those out soon.” Chibs nodded to the exposed shoulder that had the bloody gauze on it. 

“Couldn’t help but overhear.” Jax raised his eyebrows, knowing his window was closing, he didn’t want to interrupt an intimate moment of bandage changes between you. “And for what it’s worth, we’d love to have you.” 

“Would love to sit in anxiety in tandem with the other SAMCRO women.” You teased. 

“Yea,” Jax’s head fell. “Well, you could do that with Tara, at the hospital, where she works, as a doctor.” It was a humble brag that usually didn’t work in Jax’s favor, people tended to look at their relationship with confusion and wonder but he knew it’d help Chibs in this situation. 

You took in what he said, your idea of an ol’ lady was very old school, very misogynistic, and you were absolutely positive it still was, but hearing that Jax’s ol’ lady was a doctor, had her own path, well that was something that sat differently with you. 

“Coulda used her here, instead of Paddy.” This was your way of making light of the conversation, not wanting it to feel too heavy since you knew it was exactly that for Chibs. 

Jax smiled and looked at the ground and nodded. “Well, if you were in Charming you’d be taken care of.” And with that statement he was kicking off the door. “Holler if you need anything.” It was his way of lightening the mood, repeating what you said when they first arrived, trying to convince you to come back home with them. 

Chibs was starting to take your bandage off, not in the mood for the airy back and forth. He looked at the bullet wound and then his eyes flashed down to your hip where he knew where your other wound was. “This one isn’t going to heal as nicely as the one I patched up.” He was tossing the bloody bandage in the trash. 

You lifted your shirt to show the first scar. “But it’ll make for a good story.” 

“Everyone in Charming will love to hear it.” He tried to be nonchalant but it was everything but. 

“I can’t just jump into this, Filip. I haven’t seen you in almost a decade. Haven’t heard from you, not a note, not a phone call, nothing. And now I’m just supposed to give up my life to come with you to a whole other country?” 

“Well it ain’t like we’re leaving yet.” He was placing the new bandage over the wound. “We could spend some time together, catch up, you could make your decision once we’re getting on the cargo plane to go home.” 

“Cargo plane?” You raised your eyebrows and laughed. “You sure keep me on my toes, Filip.” 

He laughed, bringing his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek again. “I love you, lass.” His lips were moving onto yours and you melted into it. This was the only medicine you needed, it made every thought of pain and ache fade to nothing. 

Pulling away, he rested his forehead on yours and sighed. “And when I’m out, you could uh, catch up on these.” His hand was reaching into his jacket and a pile of letters were being dropped to the bed. “I did write. Just never sent ‘em. Really thought not bein’ in your life would be better but I never stopped thinkin’ of ya.” 

Staring at the letters, you let it all sink in. You were weighing the options, even though you knew which one you’d end up with. 

“Stay with me? Here?” You moved over on the bed so he could slide in next to you. “Tell me about the last 10 years.” 

[hannahssimblr]

The marquee holds extraordinary heat. It reminds me of the family holiday I took with Maureen and her kids to Florida, that phenomenal, stupefying heat, and the air like soup. I felt too tired to do anything but swim around in the resort pool for those two weeks, but that was the whole point. We went to laze about. I bobbed on a big yellow pool floater while the others slept on the deck chairs until the sun dipped over Daytona Beach and it was bearable enough to move again. 

Here, light permeates through polyester walls, diffusing a blue hue, and the air is constrictive like a panic attack. It smells too, of hot plastic and grass, and all the people who didn’t queue for the showers this morning. 

“It’s gross in here,” I comment, bellowing already because every voice in the whole marquee bounces off the walls and raises the volume to incomparable levels. 

Joe laughs and makes fun of my accent for Kasper’s benefit. “Gross, man, totally freakin’ gross, my dude.”

“Do you want to stay or go?”

“It’s Crystal Castles!”

“Okay, so, stay?”

“Yeah, duh.” With a hand on my back, Joe propels me into the crowd, where we push through, closer and closer to the front. The atmosphere is so unpleasant, so hot, so stuffy, and even though I’ve been drinking all afternoon, my head still twists with unwanted thoughts. I feel my phone vibrate. 

It’s Jen, as expected. 

Where are you? We’re going to see Slash now. Also, Evie has asked where you are a few times. 

I shove it back into my shorts pocket, and something crinkles against my hand.

Ah. I had forgotten about this.

I subtly pull out the baggie from yesterday, the one from Weed Alison, and turn it over in my hand. I know I shouldn’t, that I tell everyone who asks me that don’t do any of this anymore, but these little pink pills lure me in like a siren. They hold promises of escapism, if only just for an hour.

And then, what didn’t even seem like an option yesterday seems almost sensible today.

“Hey, do you want one?” I ask Joe, “you and Kasper. I’ve three.”

He cranes his neck. “What’s that?” 

“Ket.”

“Oh, I’ve never done that.”

“You want to try it?”

He looks to Kasper for reassurance, and his friend shrugs noncommittally. “Well, what’s it like?”

“Pretty strange.”

“Okay,” he says. I tip two tablets into his palm and one, the last, into my mouth.

He winces as we dry-swallow. “Ugh, it’s disgusting.” 

I suppress a cough. “Did you expect gourmet?”

“I didn’t expect pure shite.”

“Well, it’s probably worth it.”

“Probably?”

As I watch the stage, I eagerly anticipate the moment my soul separates from my body while the roadies prepare. Once the gig starts, the ground begins to sway like a fairground ride. It’s the same thrill too, the same loss of control as when you’re floating through the air, when the floor gives way beneath your feet and you’re weightless, like something caught on the wind. 

“Woah.” Joe cries at one point, and I am viewing both him and Kasper through a fisheye lens. I just laugh, because everything is silly, and nothing matters the way it did this morning. Thoughts derail like train carriages tipped off the line, and my brain emerges from a pool of cool water, washed clean of every thought that has ever held significance in my whole life. 

I was sceptical of Ketamine once, back before I understood it, and clung tightly to the edgy, but familiar high I got from cocaine. It was Alison who gave me some at a house party last summer, my first bump, and with plasticine limbs we danced in the kitchen to someone’s dad’s CD collection, with a sense that we could do whatever we liked, and it wouldn’t be weird. I hadn’t felt that way since I was nine. 

Kaleidoscopic lights mesmerise me in the marquee. The music is strange, but perhaps it is supposed to be. All music is strange, if you think about it. Who decides which beats and melodies sound good, anyway? How do we know that? The singer decides to crowd surf and comes close enough for me to touch her boot. It would be funny if I took it off. This is a fact. I lank at the laces while Kasper laughs, this maniacal, unselfconscious laugh, and I join in. I don’t know what I’ll do with the boot once it’s off, but it’s the funniest possible thing to do. Maybe I’ll display it in my college apartment one day, say it belonged to Alice Glass, and have to argue with everyone that doesn’t believe me. 

“I feel weird.” Joe says. 

“That’s good.” 

“No, I think- I feel wrong.”

“It’s not wrong. Don’t make it wrong.”

“I feel wrong,” and I look at him, with his pitch black eyes panicked, and then he heaves.

And he bolts out of the crowd.

“Oh.” I look at Kasper, and him at me, and realise my teeth are sweating. “Do you think it’s bad ket?”

“I don’t know.” He says, and I'm suddenly aware that if I attempt any more words, I will throw them up. 

Throwing up in a crowd is not the ideal place to do it, I know this, but it is difficult to escape with legs that feel lead-weighted, when the earth is tilted so dramatically that I am scaling it. 

“I’m going to vom.” I announce, and a path clears so quickly that it feels biblical. 

I hit the back of the tent, and it goes everywhere. Everywhere. It splashes on my shoes and up the walls, and Joe is there too, my partner in crime, vomiting just as violently as I am. I wonder if I should pat him on the back, or give him a high five, or something.

By the time Kasper falls in line and completes our trio, security is already on us, and all that seemed so easy and funny before now fills me with unspeakable dread.

“Outside,” one barks, grabbing fistfuls of my t-shirt and hauling me toward the door. “You’re pissed.”

“No,” I protest hoarsely, “We’re fine.”

Kasper retches again, inspiring another wave of nausea within me.

“Fuck sake!” the bouncer cries as I get sick on his trousers. “Youse are a disgrace. Get out.”

And we find ourselves the grass, lying face up as the clouds drift by, and the world is still tilting, like it wants to slide us right off the face of it.

“Should we do something?” Joe manages. 

“Like what?”

“Get a doctor?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I say, before I roll over to the side and throw up in the soil. 

Neil, the volunteer nurse, is very kind and patient with me for the time I spend in his company. 

“I imagine it’s all out of your system now.” He tells me. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” I sigh, staring up at the ceiling I spent the last hour getting to know. I haven’t been sick since I got here, it seems I yacked it all out on the field, but I have been so thoroughly prodded and poked that I’ve become irritable, bored, even, as time ticks on and the festival rages on outside the flimsy doors of the medical tent. I turn my head to him, in his blue scrubs and the stethoscope he used on me slung around his neck, and the fear of his judgement arrives. It’s how I know the ket is gone. “That’s never happened to me before, by the way. That reaction was a new thing.”

“You said you’ve taken ketamine before?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, at festivals like this, you just don’t know where it’s coming from. It’s everywhere, but it’s so hard to know what exactly you’re getting. Those pills could have been cut with anything.”

I smile weakly. “Are you telling me off?”

“Not really. I’m just letting you know.”

“Cut with what, exactly?”

“Anything.” He reiterates. “I’m talking talcum powder to heroin and everything in between.”

“Ouch.”

He folds his arms and leans against a table. “Do you want to get in touch with a parent or guardian?”

“Is that mandatory?”

“It’s not, but you might find the best thing for you to do now is to get home and rest. You might like to let a parent know what’s happened today.”

I laugh, the kind of hollow, death-rattle of a laugh that could have come from a sick, elderly man. “Tempting, but no thanks. I think I’ll stay.”

Neil’s mouth flattens into a line, and he gives me a nod. “Well, I’ll just advise you to take it easy, right? And if you feel off at any point, please come straight back here. We’re open all night.”

“But in your medical opinion, I’m fine, right?”

“Yes, I think you’re fine.”

“Oh, good.” I sit up in the trolley and plant shaky, stockinged feet on the floor. “Because there are a few more bands I really wanted to see.”

“I understand.” He says, though he looks as though he doesn’t. “But listen.”

I look up. 

“Be wise, Jude.”

I laugh and lace up my vomit-splattered shoes. “Neil, I’m always wise.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[wrinkly-walls]

Let's talk motives

Longass rambling scream (1996) meta post incoming

DISCLAIMER I am not taking into account anything that happens in any of the other sceam movies, because they were made later and I think the whole concept of Roman is not interesting. So to ME Billy and Stu did everything without being prompted. Ok that's all :)

In the first scream motives are important in the way that they aren't. By that I mean that there are three (if I remember correctly) "conversations" about Billy and Stu's motives. There's the first one, which starts by Billy stating that it's much scarier if there's no motive and, funnily enough, ends with him giving his "motive" (in quotations because I wanna talk about that later); there's the "don't you blame the movies!" bit, which I counted because I think that it does discuss motives in a way; and then there's Stu's "peer pressure, I'm far too sensitive". The thing about these three conversations is that they, in my opinion, don't give an answer to the question/accusation of a motive.

Let's start with the first one, that I think is the one that tries to get closer to it. As I said, there's two parts to this: first we have Billy saying that motives make things less scary, mentioning Norman Bates (which is sort of funny because Bates did have a motive -sort of. It depends on what you consider a valid motive, as it relies on mental illnes, something that is not rational (and also almost never happens in real life). I think something similar happens in scream, with the question of what is motive, but whatever. I digress.) and Hannibal Lecter. Almost immediately though, he starts to get into the REAL motive, at least for him: his father's affair with Maureen, and his mother's subsequent abandonment of him. What I think is interesting about this exchange is the elephant in the room. Sid asks "Why did you kill my mother?" and that's exactly what Billy answers. We, and Sid, are left with the question "ok, but why are you doing anything else?" Why did he and Stu kill Casey and Steve, the principal, Tatum, the camaraman (and to our knowdlege at the moment), Randy, Gale, and Dewey?

This question tries to sort of get answered later, with Sid's accusation of "you sick fucks, you've seen one too many movies", but it gets shot down immediately by Billy. He seems angry about it too, gets defensive saying that "movies don't make psychos, movies make psychos more creative!". This is not a wrong statement, however it is curious to me that he, of all people, says it, seen as earlier in the movie he says that "it's all just one big movie", and just minutes ago compared his motive with fictional characters. So him so outwardly denying any influence of movies in his motive is strange. I'll get back to this later.

The last conversation is the most direct one, and also the one that I think gets misinterpreted the most. Sid explicitly asks Stu for his motive, to which he answers "Peer pressure, I'm far too sensitive." This, to me, is clearly a joke. (Why? Well, for starters it simply doesn't make sense on a technical level. Peer pressure implies pressure to do something within a group of peers, to fit in or seem cool. Literally the only other person that was doing the murder was Billy, and that's not enough to be considered "peer pressure". It also doesn't make sense with the Stu we see mere minutes before, who is giggling all throught the kitchen scene and even says that "it was fun". Lastly, the sentence is humourous because there is a tendency to blame every bad act teenagers commit on peer pressure. Stu jokes constantly throught the movie, and even in his blood loss-ed state he was just doing that, making a stupid joke.) Many people seem to take this statement to mean that Billy pressured him into doing the murders, and while that's impossible to confirm or deny based on the little screen time Stu has in the movie, based on the fact thet the statement to me is a joke, I personaly don't think that's the case.

Ok, so that leaves us to the actual motives. So if Billy only gives his motive for killing Maureen, denys movies as a reason, and Stu only makes a joke about it, then why the fuck did they do it?

This is the point where I have to say that I think that, in the writing room, they don't have any. The same way as the writers never decided who did each kill, I don't think they really thought about why the boys did their murder spree, at least conciously. However, I think that autorial intent is not the end all be all, and speculating about fictional characters is fun, so I will be doing it either way.

Let's start with Stu, because I think that his reasons are less complicated. He's the one that I'm the most sure did not have a written reason, mostly because he is not as vital to the story (I'm so sorry for saying this he is literally my favorite character but it is what it is). I think that his "motive" is an aglomeration of different things, the main two being his "crazyness"(not actual crazyness as it is more of a legal term that he probably wouldn't apply for but you get what I mean) and his clear infatuation with Billy.

The first is probably the one with more intent behind it, seeing as the Stu we see in the movie acts in ways that support it (he is a serial killer after all). From the start of the movie we see how insensitive he is about Casey and Steve's killings, making a joke about it ("better liver alone!"). At that point in the movie we know nothing about the character, but that moment does come off as very suspicious even on a first watch, that being the joke of the scene. As we move forward we have the scene at the video store, the obvious scene that spells out who the killers are if you're open to the fact that there's two of them, in which we see how he enjoys messing with Randy, smiling and tugging at his earlobe. This is echoed later in the kitchen scene, in which he seems almost unbelivably happy. He plans to kill two of his friends and his girlfriend, acting compleatly normal towards them before the fact. Going back to the start of the movie, Casey and Steve's murders were very sadistic, both on the prelude (the calls and the "game") and the actual act, both of them being gutted. He also shows no remorse for any of it in the end of the movie, only being worried that his parents are gonna be mad. All of this to say that, even if sometimes the fandom likes to ignore it, he is a huge sadist, and that is most likely the main reason why he did the murders. In Casey's murder he also had the fact that she broke up with him, something he lied about, so we can deduce that the situation hurt his ego. The disproportionate reaction to it (murder) just comes to show how little regard he has for other people.

The second part of that I don't think was intentional. If I'm not mistaken Kevin Williamson spoke about it on an interview, stating that he, as a gay man, mostly subconciously put the queer subtext on Billy and Stu's relationship. However, subcouncious or not, it is in the movie (I actually want to make another stupidly long meta post about it), and it's what makes Stu as a character make sense to me. Whatever you think about what their dynamic is like, what is obvious is that this, the murders, are mostly for Billy. It is Billy who has the "motive", it is Billy's girlfriend they are tormenting, and it is Billy who moves the plot forward when he feels like it. All the while Stu seems more than happy to comply, going behind Randy at the video store, trapping Sid at the end of act three, giving Billy the knife whith a bow, going behind him and looking at him. I think that no matter what happened Stu would've become a killer later on, because as I've established he is a sadist, but the reason why he is doing this murders specifically is because of Billy.

Which leads me to Billy. What was going on with him? Honestly, I'm not compleately sure. To him, what happened with Maureen and the '96 spree are inextrincably linked, but I think everyone can see that there's actually not a real connection. Sid is not her mother, so Billy has no "logical" reason to torture her. My guess is a mix of jealousy, hatred/annoyance toward her and the others, the feeling of control, and well, sadisim. The jealousy aspect is pretty straightfoward: in his mind, it is her mother's fault that his mother left, so it is unfair that he has to be without her while she gets to have a mother. Seeing as he's he boyfriend he probably has to see that all the time too, and he most likely can't handle that (we see in the third act that he doesn't handle things not going his way very well). That leads to the control aspect: we have no way of knowing how he was before his mother left, but from what we see, I think that the murders were his way of taking back control after his mom left. He says in the movie that movies don't make psychos, that they make psychos more creative, and I think that the way it translates is in how he decided to take that control back. Of all of the things he could've done, he cose to make "a movie", except in real life. With acts and plot beats, and even a twist. Just murder probably wasn't enough for him, he needed to make something out of it, and what better victim than Sidney, Maureen's daughter. He seems to relish on the fact that he is the one in control of her situation ("you can't pick your genre"). Also, unlike Stu, he seems to actively dislike the friend group he's in, having a sort of disgusted face in the fountain scene, and clearly having a bad relationship with Tatum. He was most likely looking forward to getting rid of them, and exiting the situation as a survivor. Then there's also the thing that killing people definitely turns him on. I've seen a lot of people joke about the "I was watching The Exorcist and it made me think of you" line, making fun of the weird sentiment that watching "The Exorcist" might turn him on, and while I won't deny the jokes are funny, what some people seem to miss is that well, he wasn't watching The Exorcist. He was killing Casey and Steve with Stu. To me it's telling that both times we see him make out/have sex with Sid it's after it's implied he has just killed someone, first Casey/Steve and then Tatum (there's debate about who killed her, but I think that it being Billy just makes more sense time wise and also I don't know how else to explain the eyebrow bounce when he gets to the party). I think that this is something that defilitely affected his motive, and in real life many killers just got off on it (I also want to expand on this in a Stuilly post because there's Implications).

I also think that something else to be taken into account is that these are two white rich teenage boys. The way that they did it has a very strong entitlement air to it. They definitely think that they can get away with anything.

Both Kevin Williamson and Neve Capmbell have talked about their queer implications and how that might've affected their motive, and while I do want to touch on it in my incoming Stuilly Post, I don't think it was as relevant as some might think, or at least not in the way most people think.

In conclusion, Stu did it cause he's crazy and gay and Billy did it cause he's both a control freak and a freak. :)

If you have any thoughts about this PLEASE share them I really want to talk about it (as you can see)

I just wrote two thousand words about this please send help

[peachiemilkytea]

ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʙᴏʏ

pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

Summary: Henry has been talking to your dad about his co-boss a lot lately, enough to invite him over for dinner knowing that he is your boss too. Now you have to deal with a dumb teenage boy you don't like.

Paring: Teen!Michael Afton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: use of Y/n, third and first person pov, your parents embarrassing you, flirting?? romance??? enemies to friends

W/c: 5K

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Flipping the pages in between my fingers of a romance story. Seventeenth Summer by Maureen Daly. It was in my top ten favorites, my first favorite was IT by Stephen King. The one I'm reading now is about two teenagers, Angie Morrow, and Jack Duluth, being a couple and going out together in June for the first time. Their dates would be them getting cokes with friends, riding in Jack's car, going to movies, and taking the boat out. They grew closer than they could ever be together. It gave it a whole new point of view on the world. Rose-tinted glasses.

"Dottie! Come down here!"

Uh oh, am I in trouble? I put my book down on my bedside and walked downstairs. Mom was leaning on the kitchen counter talking to my dad who was smoking a cigarette. My mother hates the smell of cigarettes. Her nose scrunched at the intoxicating smell. I took a seat at the table.

"Whatever happened, Daniel did it!" I accused my little brother without hesitance. Holding my hands together, my shoulders become tense. Dad snickered out smoke holding onto the sink, biting his lip to hold back a big smile. Mom rolled her eyes at the smoke he let out.

"You're not in trouble (Y/n), we're having the Aftons over for dinner." Mom explained, breathy chuckling.

"Henry and I had lunch with him the other day, he's something else. I had to use everything to stop myself from making fun of his accent. Anyway, his family will be here by six twenty so get ready." Dad explained twiddling the cigarette in between his fingers.

"Alright, whew, you scared me! I thought I was gonna be in trouble! Where's Daniel? Does he know?" I asked, looking around.

"Yes, he knows, he walked in on us talking about it. The Aftons have a boy your age. We'll leave Daniel to suffer with the little ones." Mom said getting off of the counter. I let out a "Yes!" pumping my arm up and running upstairs.

Now that I think about it, William never really talks about his family. He'll bring up his daughter Elizabeth but that's really about it. I had to find out that Michael was Will's kid myself, he never talked about him and whenever I try to bring him up Will shuts it down. He's a jerk to me, I swear it's like he hates me! One time when I was working he spilled soda all over my head with a sarcastic 'whoops.' Poor Henry had to give me a towel and wash it out of my hair and face.

While with Henry he'll talk about his kids all the time, I would hear all the stories about Sammy and Charlie. All the cute things they did and all the tantrums. Henry would have a picture of his wife in his pocket, Nancy Emily, they've been high school sweethearts. She's a sweet woman who got me into Seventeenth Summer. I usually hang out in her garden with her taking care of the plants or sunbathing. I cleaned up my room, picked up the clothes on the floor, and fixed my plants, stacking my books into the shelf, tidying up my desk. I think I looked okay. It was presentable enough. Daniel was standing at my door.

"Come on, hurry up! They're at our door." Daniel said repeatedly knocking on my doorway. I rubbed his hair walking past the kid. Downstairs there was William with a gingered-haired woman, his daughter Elizabeth, a smaller boy holding a golden Fredbear plushie, and... Michael? Ohhh that would make sense now, that's why he looks like William. I didn't pay attention when Mom was talking about us. He perked up surprised but then waved at me with a smile.

"This is Daniel and (Y/n), my kids," Mom said putting her hands on her hip. That stance always gave off 'I'm a tired mom.'

"Kids, this is the Aftons. William, Clara, Elizabeth, Evan, and Michael." Mom introduced us, pointing to each one of them.

"Hey boss," I said, looking towards William. He smirked at my remark. I looked over to my dad and saw the gears in his head turning, Mom gave out a silent 'oh.' Clara looked between me and William.

"But you work for Henry?" Dad asked more like a question.

"William is Henry's co-boss, I work for both of them," I said putting my hand on my hip, then going back to the family and flashing them a smile before going up to my room.

I heard Dad and mom talking to William and Clara talking more about work and what's for dinner, telling Daniel to take the little ones. Then They were talking about boring adult stuff, the only thing I found interesting that they were talking about is all the butterflies Clara's been finding and keeping. Maybe the book my dad was reading, The Color Purple. A book about a teenage African American, Cecilie. Raised in rural isolation in Georgia. She resists the self-paralyzing concept forced on her by others. He's the one who introduced the book to me, it was hard to read because of the writing. But that's the fun of it. Like I did with The Great Gatsby, I took notes on it and broke down the language to understand it then burned the chapters into my head of what happened in a modern way.

Grabbing one of my types of vinyl, I always liked the vinyls more than the cassettes, mixtapes, and walkmans. They played it so much better than the others. Putting on Highway To Hell by AC/DC, it was one of my all-time favorites. Nodding to the beat and mouthing the lyrics.

"Good pick! I didn't expect a good girl like you to be into rock." Michael said, leaning against my doorway with a smug look. I looked back at him and rolled my eyes. I took my vinyls out of the packages and wrote what songs they were on the middle-colored part before putting them on my green flowered walls. Michael was staring at my pictures on my bulletin board.

"Did you take these?" He asked, pointing towards them.

"Yeah, I did. It's still-life photography. What? You like them?" I spat out walking to his side. He was looking at a picture with a book that had cursive letters on the pages, a jar of flowers and the other side is a jar of ink, an old pen sitting next to it, and circled glasses on the other side. Maps and drawings of herbs under the book.

"It's not my style but I like it. It's like something really old and adventurous. Like those old guys you see in the history books." Michael read the photo perfectly. He captured it in his way but still expressed what I was trying to get. I was surprised he was being so nice right now.

"I think this one might be more of your style," I said pointing to a different picture above the one he was looking at.

A bluish-whitish tinted photo, concrete stairs with yellow lines at the end going down. The white walls were covered in graffiti, paint, posters, photos, and drawings. There were marker drawings on the walls and messy paint splattered onto the railings. Graffiti symbols and phrases are marked onto the floor. Some vinyl and cassettes were glued to the wall. Boy bands and magazine covers on the wall with famous faces and logos. The pen drawings on the side made planets and black stars. Drawings made by people saying "runaway" or lists of things or missing pet beetles people found off of the street. A large rectangular mirror on the left side reflects the turn to further downstairs on the right.

Michael's brows raised and his mouth fell slightly. His hand tucked a strand of his hair back behind his ear then covered his mouth with his hand. He blinked a couple of times through his eyelashes. I chuckled and picked it off of the bulletin board and flipped it over on my desk, writing 'To Michael' and handing it to him. He furrowed his brows and stepped back pulling his hand away from his mouth.

"Take it if you like it so much. I know you don't like me very much and I'm okay with that. I'm still your friend." I said being left hanging and still holding the photo.

"I hate you. I hate your '70s haircut. I hate how your teeth are yellow. I hate how your loud laugh echoes in a room. I hate the way you read knockoff comic books. I hate how you smile so big when you lie. I hate you. But I don't, I tried. Something about you is keeping me around. I want to be your friend." Michael admitted. That was a turn of events... He took the picture out of my hands and pressed his lips together. Holding it with two hands he stared at it. I chuckled, and a smile tugged my lips.

"So the soda thing-" I said pointing to the floor lazily. He quickly looked up bug-eyed.

"Ahhh!! Ahh!! We don't talk about that!" Michael yelled jumping on my bed. He got off of his stomach and laid on his back looking at her picture. I sighed going back to my bulletin board of pictures. I put up some new ones I took a few days ago. From the corner of my eye, I saw him put the picture on the bedside desk, and he picked up the book from my desk.

"What is this? It's so cheesy? The guy on the cover looks like me!" Michael asked, reading through the pages.

"It's what girls feel when they're in love, you wouldn't know." I joked. Hearing him scoff.

"Girls fall in love with me. Women get with me." Michael protested moving on his side to look at me with a cocky look, his tongue on the corner of his lips while biting down on it with his teeth. I let out a long 'sure.' He went back to reading. Genuinely Michael seemed invested in the story. Maybe I should show him Sixteen Candles one time. He might like that more because it's a movie. God, I love Molly Ringwald, she's such a great actor and in so many films I love. I have an undying love for her! She reminds me so much of Cheryl. Soon the vinyl stopped playing, so I grabbed another record. Metallica, Ride The Lightning. Putting it in and turning up the volume. Michael's head lifted quickly.

"No way! Metallica! Wait wait I know this one. Ride The Lighting, right?" Michael fanboyed over the vinyl. I nodded lazily. Grabbing a few covers I handed them to him. Dr Feelgood Mötley Crüe, Sweet Child O' Mine Guns N' Roses, Detroit Rock City KISS, Cherry Bomb the Runaways, Bad Reputation Joan Jett, Pet Sematary Ramones, and so many others. Rolling Stones, Judas Priest, you name it. Michael looked like a kid in a candy store flipping through the record covers. He was stuttering his words.

"Oh my god." Michael managed to get out of his excited stutters. Holding up one of them records.

"You can pick the next song." I gave a small smile sitting at the end of my bed. I lie on my stomach further it and swing my feet back and forth. Bopping my head to the beat of the metal music. I felt my imagination running wild, anything with music made me daydream. It was like scenes in a movie or a cartoon show. Michael was mimicking the strings of a guitar that the song was playing.

"Is this all you do?" Michael asked, looking up at the ceiling. His hand was up pointing and tracing the cracks.

"Yeah. I mean sometimes I'll go out if it's with my best friend or if it's because of work. My room beats going outside any day." I said, swinging my feet back and forth while leaning my cheek on my pointer finger. I like to be introverted, my mother always called me a homebody who needs to get out more. The most I would do is hang out with my dad on the porch at dawn talking about our days while he was smoking a cigarette.

"You have a friend that isn't Henry? That's hard to believe." Michael playfully insulted. I grabbed one of my pillows and smacked him with it. He yelled and put his hands up laughing.

"Yes, I do! Jeez. How do you even know I'm friends with Henry? Will doesn't like to talk a lot." I asked sitting up and hugging the same pillow I assaulted him with.

"I know Henry too, you know! You're not the only one. Father will bring me and my brother and sister to work sometimes and that's how I know Henry. He talks about you too much. It's like you're some star student. It's always (Y/n) this and (Y/n) that and oh did you know what (Y/n) did? All the time, it's so annoying!" Michael groaned into the pillow.

"Boo hoo, oh poor you." I mocked sticking my tongue out. Michael lifted his head from the pillow and spotted something. Should I be worried? He looks so curious. He grabbed a book on the floor next to my bed that read 'The 48 laws of Power' which was about Niccolo Machiavelli's philosophy.

"Where did you get something like this?" Michael asked, skipping through the pages.

"It's a philosophy book, about the philosopher Niccolo Machiavelli. He lived in Florence during the Renaissance period. But then a prince came to the city and kicked anyone he didn't like out. Machiavelli was one of them. He would think while he was homeless. He would put on his fanciest clothes and talk about philosophy. Machiavelli has the theory that to get power you need to be feared to be loved. He wrote a letter to the prince on why he should come back to Florence. The prince read the letter and let him back into the city. He gave Machiavelli his spot. To have power you need to cheat, manipulate, and have confidence. It's used in politics and elections." I explained talking through my hands, never leaving his eyes.

Funny story, when I was out for a walk one day I found a kid in a tree reading it and I asked him how he knew that book. We had the best talk about being manipulative. It takes a true philosopher to understand and with that, you need to change your mindset. Philosophy is the love of wisdom, or in Greek Philosophia. It's pursuing your lover, pursuing Sophia. I love doing philosophy but I don't have anyone to do it with.

"This is deep," Michael said he was gapping like a fish. I could tell it wasn't really his thing and it's probably something you look at and forget the next day. I only nodded with a small smile.

My door creaked, I expected it to be one of the kids or my dad telling me to come downstairs for dinner. Cujo came running and jumped on Michael. He grunted putting the book on the nightstand on top of Seventeenth Summer. Cujo jumped on top of him and soaked his face in dog slobber, drool coming down and hitting Michael's cheek. He pushed the dog off of him and wiped the grossness off of his face. Gagging and scowling. I let out a fit of laughter.

"Good boy! Good boy Cujo." I patted his head.

"You named him after the murder dog?!" Michael shrieked scouting up on my pillows trying to get Cujo out of his lap.

"Yeah." I held Cujo's chin up to me and kissed his forehead.

"He almost killed me!" Michael complained, crossing his arms and glaring at me.

"Stop being a baby. Cujo's a sweetheart, he would never hurt anybody unless I tell him to, Isn't that right?" I coo'ed to my puppy. He barked in response. I swear it's like he understands me. We don't deserve dogs, they are too good for us.

"Never thought I would hear that..." Michael mumbled and slowly came off of my pillows. He hesitantly held his hand out to the dog, taking it back quickly when Cujo turned around to sniff his palm. Michael tried again shaking but moved his hand away too quickly again. Cujo barked at him. I grabbed his wrist and held it up to Cujo, finally, he smelt his palm and declared Michael his friend. He put his head into the boy's hand making him pet him. Michael loosened up and pet Cujo's head. A genuine smile tugged at his lips. Scaredy cat.

"KIDS ATTACK!" Uh oh- Elizabeth jumped on her brother and tackled Michael on the bed, hitting him. Telling his face it hurt. Evan was timidly hiding behind Daniel.

"What? Evan! You're supposed to be beating up your brother and my sister!" Daniel said, lifting his arm and looking behind him. Evan was shaking behind him, shutting his eyes so hard you could see the wrinkles on the side. I got up from my spot while Elizabeth and Michael were beating each other up. I went up to the two boys and squatted down to the little one's height. He opened his eyes slowly. They were glossy, you could see every sparkle in the blue. His cheeks were a rosy red. A golden bear was in his arms, looking like Fredbear. William must've given it to him.

"Hey little buddy, it's okay. You don't gotta be me up. Daniel was just joking. Uh... Do you want a hug or something?" I asked, holding out my arms. Evan calmed down a little bit. He left Daniel's side and came up to me laying against me. I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his back softly. Evan's crying calmed down and only had little sniffles and shaky gasps of air.

"I like your plushie, what's his name?" I asked, trying to relax him.

"Goldie," Evan mumbled lying on my chest. I stroked his hair.

"That's a nice name," I said softly, looking down at him. Something about this kid melts my heart. He's so delicate, fragile. If he was a box being shipped overseas he would have the fragile label on him.

"Wh-What's your name?" he stuttered looking up at me.

"I'm (Y/n), Daniel's sister. You're daddy's friend. What's your name?" I asked, sitting down on my knees.

"I'm Evan, sometimes my sister calls me Ev," he explained. Isn't that sweet? It's his sister's nickname. Daniel looked confused, glaring at us. I shot him a glare. He stuck out his tongue and pulled down his eyelid.

"IZZY! Get the hell off of me!" Michael yelled fighting his sister. I forgot that was happening. To be fair, Elizabeth was winning the fight. She was laughing at him and sitting on his stomach punching him, Michael's hands covered his face. As much as I'm enjoying seeing Michael getting his ass whooped by his little sister it can't go on forever.

"Alright! How about we play hide and seek?" I asked standing up. It caught Elizabeth perked up, she stopped fighting Michael and looked at me with a bright grin. That kid is a little devil but at least she's cute with her bow. She got off of Michael jumping off my bed and running towards me.

"Hide and seek! Hide and seek! Hide and seek!" Elizabeth chanted jumping up and down. Evan on the other hand shook his head no.

"Come on Evan, pleaseee! Pleaseeee! I'll beat up Michael if he scares you! Daniel's sister will make sure he won't scare you!" Elizabeth begged and pointed to me.

"It's true, I won't let him scare you, I'll even make a pinky promise." I held up my pinky. Evan's foot moved in circles and his body turned to the side, his head down looking up at me with doe eyes. Seriously, this kid is adorable. If Michael does anything I'll have Cujo eat him.

"Okay..." Evan held up his pinky. Interlocking it with mines. We pinky promised to stop Michael from scaring Evan. Speaking of the boy, his hair was disheveled and he was leaning on his elbow lifting himself. He held the back of his head, rubbing it while one of his eyes closed. My covers were a mess! My pillows were everywhere! Elizabeth probably used one to hit him. Kids...

"Daniel's it! Run kids! Count!" I yelled pointing to my brother and running away with the kids. Michael hurried soon after.

I don't know where the other two are, but I ended up with Evan. His small hand was trying to hold mine despite it being bigger. I pointed to Daniel's room under his bed. Evan and I hid under there. He was freaking out a bit. Looking around and shaking. I played with his hair and drew soft slow circles on top of his head. He looked like he could fall asleep. I heard Michael screaming like a girl. Daniel must have found him. What a wuss! There were footsteps and sounds of them arguing. They're like Dumb And Dumber. Elizabeth was found, she was whining and complaining about being found. They were looking for Evan and I. Their footsteps were so sloppy. I snickered a little too loudly, Michael was right about my laugh. How did he even pay attention to it?

"Wait..." I heard Daniel's moment of realization. He beelined for his room. It was weirdly suspenseful. Evan didn't like it at all. Seeing his socks roam the room he looked for us cautiously. Suddenly, fingers grabbed the bottom of the blankets and lifted them. Daniel was squatting there with the smugest look on his face.

"Found ya." He said slyly.

"You little buttmuncher." I jokingly insulted. He dramatically grabbed his heart and gasped offendedly. Evan sighed and crawled out from under the bed. I grabbed Daniel's ankles and pulled him to me. He shrieked and yelled at me. Hitting my hand. We got out from under the bed in a laughing fit.

We spent an hour laughing and scaring each other. Besides Evan, I was always paired with the little boy and he seemed a lot less scared when I was around. Daniel even ran downstairs and hid behind the couch till Elizabeth found him by getting a hint from William. She's a daddy's girl.

Michael was it, for the first time. He refused to do it for all the other times. He only agreed to do it if I did it with him. Pulling me away from Evan. I mean I hope the kid will be okay. Mike is kinda a dickhead. The kids ran off and hid, while we counted. Though he stopped counting.

"Why did you stop?" I asked. He stood there arms crossed with a smirk and one of his brows raised.

"They won't notice," Michael said, leaning up a little.

"Ookaay?" I said confused leaning against the wall. There was an awkward silence like Michael wanted to say something but didn't know how to phrase it. I can tell because I can see the cogs turning in his head.

"Whatever, let's go look for the little dweebs." Michael walked off.

"Hey! I'm the only one who can call Daniel a dweeb!" I ran after him.

We looked around the house. The bathroom, in the shower, the hallway closet, under my bed, under Daniel's bed. These kids were too good. It's like they disappeared. Michael and I went into my room. He put his finger to his lips and tiptoed to the closet. He paused for a moment. I shook my head no quickly, pressing my lips together. What if Evan was in there? Grabbing his shoulder and tugging it. He pushed me off. Michael slammed open the closet and put his arms up with a yell. Turns out... Evan was in there. And now he was having a sobfest thanks to Michael. I pushed past him and squatted down in front of the little boy who was clinging onto his Fredbear stuffie for dear life.

"Hey hey honey, it's okay. Come here. Oh man, I'm so sorry I broke our pinky promise." I said hugging him. Evan clung to me. I picked him up grunting at the sudden weight. He sobbed into my shirt. I glared at Michael, annoyed. For once he looks guilty. I kind of felt bad. Dropping my glare with a neutral smile. I rubbed Evan's back.

"Go find the others, Mike I'm sure dinner is almost ready." I nodded my head towards the door. He just nodded and walked off. Evan slowly calmed down still with leftover tears in the corner of his eyes.

"Do you want to go downstairs and hang out with the parents?" I asked him. He slowly nodded, not moving from my neck. I exited my cozy room and walked downstairs. The adults saw me with a crying Evan in my arms and eyed me confused and worried.

"Oh uh, hide and seek is a little too scary for him," I explained. Mrs. Afton showed understanding like this has happened before or the normal but mixed with guilt for her baby. William looked a little phased by it, his smile fading but going back to talking with my mother.

"Oh uhm here Mrs Afton." I tried handing Evan to his mother but he clung to me like a koala bear. It surprised the Aftons and my parents.

"That's very new, well I suppose he likes you a lot. That means a lot to a little child. And please call me Clara. No need to be so formal!" Mrs-... er Clara said. I nodded and took a seat at the table motioning her to sit next to me.

"I'm (Y/n), I'm sorry this is just so new to me. I wish I had heard about you more. You seem nice." I tried to make conversation. As you can tell it's going poorly.

"Awh, you're sweet. William isn't one to talk about personal stuff that much. Why I didn't even know that you two were coworkers! You work with Henry too?" Clara asked with a heartwarming smile.

"Yeah I do, Henry is my best friend. He's really how I got the job in the first place. I'm the head engineer. The bosses are the ones who are in charge of the whole engineering stuff. I'm just here if they need a little extra help or repairs." I explained she seemed to listen to every word. Her eyes softened too. Something about her makes me so comfortable like I can forget every problem I have. Dammit, William's lucky.

"I uhm.. I like your hair, my friend Cheryl Jo, her hair is red like yours too. Except hers is a little shorter." I said awkwardly, I think Evan is asleep or something. He's really quiet and not moving. His breath is a little shorter.

"You flatter me. So you're an engineer for robots? That must be interesting, you don't hear about that every day. What is it like?" Clara asked me.

"Are you going to let me geek out to you about robots? Because if you get me going I won't stop." I grinned brightly.

"I'm married to William, that already says a lot. I would love to hear you geek out about robots." Clara giggled, her nose scrunched up. If Evan wasn't laying on me I would be bouncing in my seat right now. I went on to rant to her about almost everything I learned about robots and what they could do, what's in them, how they are made, and what I think I could do for the future. I was talking so fast that I almost forgot to breathe.

"Dottie, can you get the kids and tell them dinner's ready." My mom said, wiping her hands together. I nodded, giving Evan back to Clara. He woke up instantly mind you. I got up from my seat and went upstairs.

They can't be far, so I check my room first... What the fuck. Michael was on my floor half-naked with Elizabeth and Daniel trying to shove my yellow floral white sundress over his head. He was yelling at them and trying to push them off but Daniel held down his arms and Elizabeth was solving his head through the dress. Daniel moved Michael's arms through the straps. I cleared my throat and leaned against the door. All of their heads turned towards me, surprised. Michael was beet red.

"Uh... Dinners ready."

I walked downstairs and waited for them to... stop whatever that was. I sat down in my seat with no comment. I want to unsee whatever I just saw immediately. William set the table with plates and asked what drinks we wanted. It feels weird to see him act so casually with my family, it feels weird to even see him in my home. To think my family and his never knew each other all this time. It was only him and I. He's so secretive I wonder why. He never told me about Clara or his kids. It could've been like Henry and I with Elle and the twins. Well, they're an odd bunch but still a presentable family those Aftons.

Speaking of which, Michael, Elizabeth, and Daniel came downstairs. The poor boy couldn't even make eye contact with me. Daniel took his seat next to me. Michael sat across from me. Clara was on my right and in front of her was William. Across from Daniel was Elizabeth, Evan sat next to his sister, Mom sat next to Daniel, and Dad sat in front of Mom.

My parents and the Aftons were telling stories or talking about what happened the other day that seemed so crazy. Evan was trying to get Elizabeth to eat her vegetables, he even held it to her mouth. She was stubborn, crossing her arms and pouting. Daniel was listening in on the parents' conversation. felt my foot get nudged. Fucking Michael. He was looking away listening to the parents talk. I stomped on his foot. His eyes became the sizes of dinner plates, he hit his chest with his fist and coughed violently.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Clara asked, leaning over the table.

"Yeah yeah... just went down the wrong pipe." Michael sipped his water awkwardly. Mom snickered at him and shook her head.

When he looked up he made eye contact with me and gave me a death glare. I smirked picking through my food. His foot hit mine again, I hit his shin with my leg. We were battling playing footsies under the table. Staring at each other and not breaking it. Daniel nudged my shoulder. I stopped. The parents were questioning why the table was moving. Michael kicked my ankle. I nodded my head towards the parents. We both looked at them, they were looking back at us. Michael and I quickly awkwardly took sips of our water not looking up.

---------

The loud and lively became cozy and quiet. Clara walked out with a sleeping Evan in her arms. Putting him in his car seat.

"Daniel! Come down here and say goodbye!"

"Bye!"

"That's not what I meant..." (Y/n) said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt her shoulder get lightly punched. Michael standing there with a smile. The annoyance of her little brother wore off.

"You leaving? I mean... you are leaving why wouldn't you be because your mom and little brother are in the car and-... I'm not making this better for myself." (Y/n) said, scratching the back of her neck shyly.

"Don't worry it's cute, I'm about to head off. I'll see you soon, right?" Michael asked looking away then back at her for a moment.

"Yeah.. yeah! Anytime besides when I'm working. Then again Will's the boss so maybe you can come when I'm working? I don't know, I'm bad at goodbyes." (Y/n) stammered awkwardly.

"Cool, cool" Michael laughed awkwardly. There was this tension between them. Vivian swung her arm around her daughter.

"We'll see you again, right Michael? You are welcome here anytime. You see... (Y/n)'s a bit of a loner-" Vivian whispered the last part behind her hand.

"Mom!" (Y/n) yelled, embarrassed pushing her mother off of her.

"I'm going to be bothering you guys all the time now, you sure you want that Mrs (L/n)?" Michael teased.

"Bring it on kid! And call me Vivian. Mrs. (L/n) makes me feel old." She said,

"Okay, well uh I should go to the car now. Bye and thank you!" Michael walked off waving a bit. Goodbyes were shared. Vivian went back to the kitchen to clean. (Y/n) sighed enjoying the moment of silence. William comes around with a sleeping Elizabeth in his arms. Stopping next to (Y/n) with a smile. She looked up at him surprised.

"I'll see you at work, I would love to hear about your new redesign for Trickster. We have a lot to go over, love." William said in his sultry accent.

"I can't wait, I have so much to talk about. I may need help to work on the blueprints and measurements. I'll see you till then, Will." (Y/n) said gently patting the sleeping girl in his arms. He nodded and took his leave.

Stephen (L/n), was in the backyard lighting a cigarette while the Aftons were leaving. Something was odd to him. Something didn't feel right about William. His guy screamed an icky feeling near him. He didn't like it, but he knew it was a move of a fool to find out what was wrong with William. He needs to know when is the right time to act and how to act. A puff of smoke soared up into the dark sky.

Cujo follows (Y/n) upstairs lazily through her night routine. She grabbed the phone and dialed a number. Cujo lay on her bed huffing and puffing.

"ʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴇʀʏʟ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ʜᴇ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴀᴅ."

[skinomyteethh]

to be or not to be?

pairing; kelly nickels x fem! reader

summary; thoughout kelly's newfound fame as bassist of L.A guns he had been acting different though you weren't sure if it was due to the restless nights they'd spend preforming or another aspect

contains/warnings; mentions of cheating. oral (female receiving). fingering. teasing. slight cum eating? little to no dialogue. may contain spelling errors :(

authors note; I need kelly nickels' magic stick in my mouth. also it deleted the damn ask so </3 anyways I hope y'all enjoy reading this!!!

cheating in the eighties or seventies rockstar scene was not at all unusual or taboo, it was extremely difficult to find a rockstar who hadn't cheated on their spouse. hell, robert plant not only had his wife maureen he also had a tour wife and a multitude of other groupies alongside him. these stories seemed to absolutely terrify [name], the thought of her boyfriend cheating on her while on tour was extremely stomach churning.

she sat on the sofa of their shared apartment, staring at the television emotionlessly and in deep thought until a phone call disrupted her thinking. a soft sigh parted her lips as she stood up and turned off the television, walking over to the phone in the kitchen, answering it.

"hello, this is [name]." she stated rather blandly, hearing the stumming of a guitar and clashing of cymbals as well as loud laughter. "hey babe, it's me, I just wanted to check up on you." his voice was somewhat raspy, it signaled that he had continued his excessive smoking habits. this whole rock 'n' roll scene seemed to be fueled off of addictions.

[name] hummed, maintaining her hold of the phone against her ear as she laid against the wall, fooling around with the coiled cord of the telephone before finally responding. "i've been alright, how about you? are you enjoying the tour?" her tone seemed curious yet curiosity was far from what she was feeling, she had her suspicions.

a short moment of silence came upon them, though it was shortly broken by the sound of Kelly chuckling. "it's been hectic, but i'm glad you're doing alright. we're heading back to Los Angeles later today!" just as she was about to respond she heard another voice, it was the voice of another female, she sounded extremely flirtatious and seemed to have a stupid valley girl accent.

"babe, sorry for cutting the conversation short but I have to go." he remarked, letting out a small laugh before hanging up. [name] stood still for a minute, the phone still in her hand, that whole predicament was strange, unsettling even. perhaps now Kelly was apart of the bunch of idiot rockstars who cheated on their partners/spouses.

she sauntered back to the sofa, turning the television back on. overwhelming thoughts began to fill her head as she leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes. what if Kelly had been cheating on her during these past months? what if he had been cheating on her prior to those months? those thoughts filled her head as she slowly drifted to sleep.

at around mid-day the loud, almost uncanny creaking of the front door both opening and shutting startled [name] out of her sleep. she sat up, feeling slightly dazed, not fully awake. her eyes glanced back as she heard the rather heavy bass guitar case drop onto the floor. Kelly hummed placing a soft, quick kiss on her forehead, taking a seat next to her.

upon feeling his lips against her forehead all thoughts prior to his arrival began swarming back, causing her mood to sour. he noticed her sudden and rather drastic mood change, wondering what on earth could have caused it. "did you have fun with her?" her question caught Kelly off guard, what could've caused her to think he was with another woman, despite what others may think he was a loyal, committed man with no desire for anybody but [name].

"what are you talking about?" he queried, raising an eyebrow in confusion. [name] responded with a scoff, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "you think i'm stupid? I heard that girl Kelly." flashbacks seem to hit him like a wave crashing onto the shore. the girl whose voice she had heard was tracii's new groupie girlfriend, he would never and could never cheat on [name].

"that was tracii's girl." [name] rolled her eyes, her expression was tainted with judgement, she still thought he was lying. Kelly sighed, closing his eyes. he was somewhat irritated at her accusations, out of all the people in this horrid world Kelly thought [name], his girlfriend of however many years would know he would never even think of doing something like cheating.

and he was going to prove it.

Kelly was going to make her realize he still loved her. she was slightly by his abrupt actions as he somewhat roughly threw her onto their bed, haphazardly taking his clothing off. his eyes trailed down to her white lace panties, he trailed down and slotted his hand in between her thighs, tugging at the waistband of her panties with his pearly white teeth.

a soft, desperate whine escaped her lips as he tugged them down. he hadn't bothered taking them off of her completely, they were low enough for him to engulf in her pretty little cunt. his warm tongue began to eat her out rather messily, his chin was dripping wet with her arousal as he slightly nudged his nose against her clit, licking up and down her folds as if she were to be his last meal ever.

her hands roughly tugged at the roots of her jet black hair, moaning out random praises as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. Kelly circled his tongue around her clit painfully slow, [name] glanced down at him, absolutely breathless, finally muttering a coherent sentence. "babe, please.."

desperation and neediness were clear in her tone as she quietly spoke. he hummed, bringing his pointer and middle fingers up to her lips. [name] shakily opened her mouth, enveloping his fingers in the warm of her mouth, coating them in her saliva so he could prep her and finally give her what she desired the most. after a minute or two he pulled his fingers out of her mouth, bringing them down to her entrance, inserting his pointer finger, then his middle finger.

[name] bit her bottom lip roughly, gripping the cool, white sheets below her as he slowly and rather gently fingered her. soon enough, one of her hands wrapped itself around his wrist, maintaining his fingers in place as she eagerly fucked herself against them like an absolute whore. Kelly simply watched her in amusement, placing soft, teasing kisses on her inner thighs.

her movements eventually became sloppier, less desperate and calculated, it signaled that she was getting extremely close to reaching the edge. he simply removed her hand from his wrist, pulling his fingers out of her. at that moment she seemed to despise the feeling of emptiness in her, whining as she took off his underwear.

Kelly desperately slotted his dick between her wet folds, the head bumping against her clit as he moved his hips back and forth, up and down. her arms reached up, and wrapped themselves around his neck, desperately holding onto him, loving the feeling. he halted his movements shortly after, grabbing the base of his dick, breathing heavily while he lined himself up with her hole, reaching his hand down, slapping her cunt before inserting himself into her slowly.

he moved his hips closer to her, watching as her soaking cunt absolutely devoured every inch of his cock. Kelly sighed euphorically as he finally inserted himself completely into her, bottoming out. [name] began to crave him even more than before, slowly moving her hips against him, his hands gripped onto her hips tightly, stopping her movements as he began to roughly thrust in and out of her.

each time their hips met her body felt an overwhelming wave of pleasure, her tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrust. Kelly leaned down, pressing his chest to her back, placing soft kiss on the back of her neck as she moaned breathlessly. he reached his hand under her, groping one of her tits, adding even more pleasure into the mix.

every thrust, every groan, every touch drew her closer and closer to her orgasm. her moans began to grow louder and her body became somewhat limp as she finally reached her high, cumming all over his cock. "that's a good girl.." he mumbled, continuing to thrust into her, overstimulating her sensitive cunt.

his hip movements became sloppier by the second until he finally spilled his load deep inside her. slowly and shakily he pulled out, once again slotting his head in between her thighs, spreading her folds open with his fingers, pushing whatever mixture of their cum spilled out back into her.

finally, Kelly sat up, laying his head against the headboard, breathing heavily. "I hope that showed you how much I absolutely love you and how I would never cheat on you hun." he mumbled, bringing her closer to him. [name] let out a breathless chuckle, laying her head down on his abdomen, glancing up at him.

"it definitely proved something like that."