#sidney be like whos white baby is this?!

[hauntedtrait]

it's BABY time!!

bonus + transcript:

father winter bringing azure some gifts at the hospital lmao idr what she got tho, aside from a new baby

TRANSCRIPT:

1st panel: WINTERFEST Tense +1 Moodlet Pre Parental Panic (From Going Into Labor) It's go time! There's a new baby one the way, a little freak out is understandable. 2nd panel: Uncomfortable +1 Moodlet Contraction Pain (From Contractions) Azure's contractions are definitely uncomfortable, but manageable for now. Perhaps she should rest while she can? Or maybe take a walk before moving becomes unbearable? One way or another, she should definitely take advantage of this calm before the storm.

5th panel: Dazed +1 Azure is actually having a baby! Her life is about to change completely! Despite all the pain rushing through her body, Azure is in a daze. She'll need a minute to let reality set in.

6th panel: Special delivery: Kamal Scott-Price has arrived! Welcome, little one.

[ancient-romes]

“it was so feminism 101” HONESTLY like that fucking speech america ferrera gave to margot robbie was so first line of a textbook in a women’s study class, it’s like something you’d tell a ten year old girl being faced with misogyny for the first time, and all the “girl math/girl dinner/here’s this complex political issue explained ‘for the girlies’” women ate it the fuck up like are you not embarrassed that this was seen as so revolutionary?? we should be past this in our modern society

LITERALLY OMG!!! I originally expected the movie to just be silly and then i saw waves and waves of women claiming it was so profound and deep and made them cry so when i watched America's speech i was like is that IT?? It was the most hand-held I've ever felt watching something and this isn't even a kids movie

[rowdyluv]

Sleepless in Pittsburgh

Summary: Sidney and Y/n are supposed to be taking turns getting up at night to take care of their infant.

Warnings: none?

Notes: request @thedevilrisen

In the quiet sanctuary of their suburban home, Sidney and Y/n danced a nightly ritual that was as tender as it was tiring. Their baby girl, a delightful bundle of eight months, had just been fed and was now nestled in Sidney's strong arms, her eyes drooping as she fought the call of sleep. The nursery, a soft palette of pastels, hummed with the gentle white noise machine designed to help soothe her, a modern lullaby that filled the room. Y/n, her hair tied back in a loose bun, moved quietly, finishing up the bedtime routine. She glanced over at Sidney, who wore a look of quiet determination, his soft gaze fixed on their daughter's sleepy face. His eyes filled with raw pure joy and love. Emotions that strong had only ever been shared with her before.

With a soft sigh, the baby's eyes finally closed, and Sidney carefully placed her in the crib. The couple exchanged a knowing look, one that spoke of shared responsibilities and silent promises. They had agreed to take turns getting up in the night to ensure that neither was overwhelmed by the constant wake-up calls. It was a plan that had worked well, or so Sidney thought. Y/n had been shouldering more of the childcare lately, and it was etched on her face, in the dark circles beneath her eyes and the way she moved with a slightly slower grace than usual. He felt a twinge of guilt, but also a fierce protectiveness. He knew she was tired, but she never complained, not even when he could see her stifling yawns. She would never complain about being tired because of a little extra responsibility on her because Sidney was a little more busy with work. She knew way before the thought of having a child ever entered her mind that this would be a different rodeo.

Sidney held out his hand to Y/n, and she took it gratefully, her own feeling small and cold. They padded out of the nursery together, the floorboards creaking slightly under their weight. As they entered their bedroom, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon, which streamed through the curtains and painted intricate patterns on the wooden floor. The room was a sanctuary of their own, filled with the faint scent of the vanilla candles Y/n had lit earlier to create a calming atmosphere. Their bed looked inviting, the crumpled sheets whispering of a much-needed rest.

Sidney could see the exhaustion etched in every line of Y/n's face as she climbed into bed. Him being gone for road games and simply being so worn out from home games, she was getting up more often than not. Plus she was here all day with the little one and it was taking a toll on her. He had noticed it in the way she had been quieter than usual, and how she sometimes forgot simple things like where she had put the baby's pacifier, and it would still be in her hand. As he sat down next to her, his thoughts swirling with love and concern, he made a silent vow to do more. He didn't want her to bear this burden alone. He couldn’t become that type of dad.

Gently, he kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering for a brief moment, a silent promise of support. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world. They both knew the baby could stir at any moment, but for now, they had a few precious minutes to themselves. Sidney pulled the covers up to their chins and wrapped an arm around her, feeling her body melt into his warmth. The room was silent except for the steady rhythm of their breathing, which synced up almost immediately.

They lay there, the moonlight playing across their faces, the lines of fatigue standing out in stark relief. Sidney studied Y/n's features, the way her eyelashes fanned out on her cheeks, the soft curve of her nose, the gentle slope of her neck. She was beautiful, even exhausted. He felt a pang of regret for the moments he had missed, the nights he had been away for his games, unable to share in the middle-of-the-night moments that had bonded them so deeply.

The sudden wail of their baby girl pierced the quiet, jolting them both awake. Sidney sat up, his heart racing. Y/n's eyes snapped open, and she started to push herself up, but he placed a firm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I've got this one," he whispered, his voice low and steady. She looked at him, a mix of surprise and relief in her eyes, and nodded, collapsing back onto the pillow. Asleep almost instantaneously.

Sidney slid out of bed, his bare feet landing softly on the cool floor. He knew the drill by heart now; tiptoe to the nursery, check on her, soothe her, lay her back down, and maybe get a little more sleep before the next round. The crib's mobile twirled gently in the dim light, casting shadows on the walls. He picked her up, her small body fitting perfectly into the crook of his arm, and cradled her close to his chest. Her cries grew quieter, and she nestled her head into the nook of his shoulder, seeking comfort. He rocked her gently, feeling the weight of her trust in his arms, and he was filled with a fierce love that seemed to surpass any tiredness he felt.

As he sat in the rocking chair, he couldn't help but think of the times he'd seen Y/n do this. The way she'd coo and whisper sweet nothings, the gentle strokes of her hand on their daughter's back, the way she'd rock back and forth with such a natural rhythm. It was moments like these that made him realize just how much she did for their little family. And it was moments like these that he realized he needed to do more to share the load of work.

After soothing their baby girl back to sleep, he gently placed her back into the crib, the soft cradle of the mattress welcoming her tiny form. As he backed away, her eyes fluttered for a moment, as if she was searching for the source of the movement. He held his breath, willing her to stay asleep. When she finally settled again, he let out a sigh of relief and turned to leave.

Sidney tiptoed back to his and Y/n’s shared bedroom, his steps measured so as not to disturb the peaceful silence. He slid into bed next to her, feeling the warmth of her body as she stirred slightly in her sleep. He watched her for a moment, her chest rising and falling evenly, and allowed himself a small smile.

The digital clock next to the bed read 4:00 AM. He knew that this was likely not the last time the baby would wake up tonight. It was a cycle that had become all too familiar. But this time, something was different. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Y/n needed the rest more. He’d been up three times now, her twice. He didn’t want her up again if possible.

So, he made a decision.

He would stay in the nursery for the rest of the night.

Sidney carefully picked up the baby again and made his way to the rocking chair, the old oak creaking gently as he sat down. The chair had been a gift from Y/n's mother, a relic from her own parenting days, and it held a certain charm that filled Sidney with warmth. He tucked a blanket around both of them, the soft fabric brushing against his skin, and began to rock. The chair's steady motion was almost hypnotic, and he found himself slipping into a light doze, his eyes flickering open every few moments to check on their daughter.

The baby's breathing grew even, her tiny body relaxing in his embrace. He felt her heartbeat against his chest, a gentle reassurance that she was safe and loved. The room was bathed in the glow of the nightlight, casting a soft blue hue across the nursery. He studied her features, so much like Y/n's, and felt a swell of pride that washed away his weariness. He whispered a promise to her, one that only the two of them would ever know, to be the best father he could be for her.

"I'll always be here for you, little one," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I'll protect you, love you, and support you, no matter what life throws our way." He kissed her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin and breathing in her sweet baby scent. It was a promise that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, a vow that filled him with purpose and resolve.

Her tiny hand curled around his finger, and he marveled at the way she held on so tightly. It was as if she understood the gravity of his words, as if she was already counting on him to be her rock. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, feeling the velvety softness of her skin. "You're going to have the best life, I promise," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You'll never have to doubt how much you're loved by your momma, by me, or my teammates. The new ones that find their way onto the team will love you.”

Y/n's voice, soft and warm, floated into the nursery from the doorway. "You'll just have to figure out who loves you most," she said with a tired smile, her eyes still heavy with sleep. Sidney looked up to see her leaning against the doorframe, her silhouette framed by the dim hallway light. “Did you forget that this was on?” She shook the baby monitor. “Your chatter was interesting to wake up to and not find you in the bed.” She giggled.

"I guess I did forget," he laughed, the sound low and rich, bouncing off the walls of the quiet room. It was a rare moment of levity in the tapestry of their sleepless nights. The baby stirred slightly at the sound but didn't wake, her grip on Sidney's finger tightening. Y/n's smile grew, the shadows playing across her features as she padded closer.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress in the night. "I know you're tired too, but you're so good at this." She leaned down to kiss him, her hand brushing against his cheek. He could feel the heavy truth of her gratitude, and it was more invigorating than any cup of coffee could ever be. “You have your hockey career that is so demanding, that supports us, and here you are still trying to take on the bulk when you can.” She kissed him once more.

Sidney beamed with happiness, his heart swelling with love for both his wife and their daughter. "This is nothing," he said, his voice earnest. "You're the real MVP here, Y/n. I just want to make sure you get some rest." He grinned at her, his eyes shining with affection. "I think I'll stay right here with my baby girl for the rest of the night."

Y/n returned his smile, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She knew Sidney was tired, too, but she couldn't deny the comfort his offer brought her. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper. "You have practice tomorrow."

A simple nod and a genuine smile was all Sidney needed to give her and she was off to bed. Sidney however, was in the rocking chair until 8am holding his little girl happily and lovingly.

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Take On Me

Summary: What happens when the love of Bob’s life finally makes a move…the night before he deploys? Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is an entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked a-ha’s song “Take On Me.” I hope y’all enjoy! This is Bob’s side story from my Jake series, Invisible Smoke. But you don’t need to read that to read this. Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, unprotected sex, cockwarming (?)/unrealistic post-sex activities, angst (with a happy ending), being bad at feelings

Bob didn’t particularly like nights before deployment. There were the obvious reasons—being shipped out and stuck on a carrier for weeks on end wasn’t exactly the best part of his job—but the pageantry of the night before, the dress whites, the careful goodbyes, that was what he really hated.

Natasha had dragged him to the Hard Deck so he could at least say goodbye to a few friends in person since he had already video called his family. He watched Natasha pull Bradshaw out onto the deck for a quieter moment alone. It was about time they got together. Bob had been one of the few who knew about her feelings for their fellow aviator and he had accidentally discovered that they were reciprocated a few days after the Uranium Mission. It really had been kind of ridiculous watching them dance around each other for months.

He was happy they were finally together. Really. Who wouldn’t be happy to see two of his closest friends be happy? But it really just twisted the dull knife behind his ribs that always came when Bob realized how alone he was. He didn’t have someone to say goodbye to like that.

Penny gave him another ginger ale with her usual sweet smile before he started back toward the table in the corner where he’d left his hat. He pushed through the crowd, earning a few slaps to his back and claps to his shoulders by other patrons who knew what awaited him in the morning, and settled back into his seat with a sigh. He scanned the crowd, seeing Harvard and Yale chat up two women on what looked like a bachelorette trip and then Payback and Mickey dancing with their wives near the jukebox. Payback’s wife, a stunning woman named Sidney, pulled back just enough to wipe tears from her cheeks. Payback gently knocked her hand away and finished for her before kissing her forehead. Bob turned away, feeling like he was intruding with a persistent tightness in his chest.

And his traitorous mind conjured your smiling face, bright and happy.

What Bob had with you was…nice. It was quiet and gentle and strictly platonic, right now. Bob would never understand how Hangman was the one to introduce you to him.

“Trust me, Baby on Board, you’ll love her. She’s perfect for you.”

Bob had been fully prepared to grit his teeth and bear whomever Seresin had deemed ‘perfect,’ and expected to meet an Instagram model or a gym buddy of his—not that there was anything wrong with them, they were usually lovely but just a little intense. But then you walked in.

You with your thick-rimmed glasses and soft smile and softer laugh.

While Jake bragged on your behalf, stating that you were the best CPA in the city, the only person he’d trust with his taxes, andthat Penny trusted you with the Hard Deck’s books, you fiddled nervously with the bendy straw Penny had given you in your little cup of pop.

It was Jake’s fiancée—a good friend of Bob’s who deserved the world, if anyone asked him—who quieted the man’s well-meaning rant with a hand on his arm. “I think he gets it. She is amazing.” The other woman winked and earned a soft smile from you before turning back toward her fiancé. “But you still owe me a game of pool, yeah?”

As the couple walked away, leaving you and Bob alone, your (beautiful) eyes tracked up to meet his gaze. Your smile was small and soft and you drummed your manicured nails against the plastic cup in your grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”

And that was it, really. You had asked Bob if he knew how to play pool and then he offered to teach you. That led to soft giggles and missed trick shots and then quiet conversations about your lives and phone numbers exchanged before you parted ways for the night.

It was…good. Really. Even if it always teetered on the edge of becoming something more but never did.

Bob liked your good morning texts and the way you insisted on paying for brunch every time you invited him to try a new restaurant that just opened up. He liked that you didn’t mind helping him get the rest of the Daggers home from the Hard Deck if they had one drink too many. He liked that the people he trusted with his life liked you.

He…liked you. And he knew it was getting dangerously close to a different L word and that just had his mind circling back to how much he hated nights before deployments. You weren’t here. Bob didn’t blame you, of course. One of your more “difficult” clients had needed your attention immediately and had flown you out to Los Angeles about a week ago and Bob hadn’t wanted to disturb you with the news of the deployment. He’d asked Jake’s fiancée to tell you when you got back into town and he had an email queued up to be sent to you, too, crossing his fingers that he’d be able to still talk with you when you both had a moment to spare.

His gaze once again roamed around the bustling bar and unintentionally picked out all the couples. Dammit. Maybe, he just needed to get some sleep. He needed to be on the carrier early tomorrow morning anyway and wallowing in self pity wasn’t really a good waste of time. He finished his soda and waved to Penny and then placed a few bills on the bar to cover his tab before setting off toward the door.

This was good. He could get back to base and get some sleep before getting to the carrier just after dawn. But, as he moved around a rambunctious pair of lieutenants jockeying over their stances for darts, he nearly collided with a solid, soft body.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

Familiar hands pressed at his chest in a bid to stay upright and the scent of rose and amber immediately flooded his senses. And Bob knew immediately it was you.

Bob set his hands on your hips with a growing smile and watched the realization dawn on your face. “Bob!” A smile he could see in his dreams broke across your lips before you wrapped your arms over his shoulders in a tight hug. “I’m so happy I caught you. I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.”

It took Bob a moment to shake himself free of the shock of your arrival and gave you a smile of his own. Some higher power was laughing at him right now (or maybe it was just Seresin) because Bob thought you’d never looked more beautiful in your short dress with buttons all the way down the front and strappy heels. “I didn’t know you were back.”

Your smile widened the slightest bit and you glanced at something over his shoulder, raising one hand to wave at someone. Bob turned in time to see Jake and his fiancée both raising their glasses in his direction. They knew. They had planned this.

But, when one of your hands swept over his shoulder to rest over his happily thrumming heart, all the embarrassment and gratitude he could have expressed at that moment crumbled away. He could deal with them later (and by ‘deal with them,’ Bob meant probably buy them a round and say thank you).

“Want to get out of here?” You asked, fingers brushing over the carefully arranged pins on his chest before thumbing at one of the ornate buttons of his jacket.

Bob knew you didn’t mean it like that, despite your wandering fingers, but he still had to suck in a quick breath to steady his thoughts before smiling. “Yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.”

You were quick to drop one of your hands to his, tugging him toward the door with a soft laugh he knew so well. The night air was tinged with salt water and the barest hint of spilled beer as soon as you stepped outside and down the handful of steps onto the parking lot. You gave him another smile over your shoulder as you started, “I hope you don’t mind-”

Bob fought the urge to say something that had been on the tip of his tongue for months and instead settled for, “you have to know that I never mind.”

You laughed again and shook your head but the noise quickly stalled when your foot connected when one of the concrete parking dividers and you nearly toppled for the second time that night. Bob tightened his grip on your hand and kept you upright with a quick tug that had you stumbling forward until you collided with his chest with a soft ‘oof’ and you laughed as you tucked your face into his jacket for a moment. You had a habit of doing that, hiding your smiles in the safety of Bob’s body. His neck, his chest, his shoulders, his arms. All of them had been places for you to squish your face. He never did mind, happily accepting any sort of physical affection you would bestow. Knowing you trusted him enough to keep you safe when you felt vulnerable.

Again, Bob knew he was dangerously close to that other word.

“I swear I haven’t had a drink at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.” Your voice shook and Bob tried not to read too much into that either as you looked down and groaned. “Oh, maybe that’s why. My shoe’s come undone.”

Bob didn’t even blink before kneeling on the pavement and grasping at the delicate straps. He could feel the heat of your skin as he carefully threaded the strap through the buckle again and as he tugged it closed again, the pads of his fingers brushed against your ankle and you were just as soft as he imagined.

What he had not imagined was the shiver his simple touch would elicit from you. You let out a strange, stuttering breath as Bob looked up at you. Oh.

Maybe it was the growing adrenaline from the impending deployment, or maybe the way the low lights were reflecting in your eyes, or maybe it was a dawning realization that you could maybe feel the same as he did. His fingers trailed up your leg as he took his time standing, almost smirking when he felt how goosebumps raced across your skin.

Your next breath stuttered and Bob felt it against his neck as he finally stood straight and once again settled his hands on your hips.

“I um…” Your throat bobbed. “Th-thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

His position and training as a WSO had Bob picking up on minute details, but he’d always been that way. He was the kid who was delighted with a ladybug landing on his jeans when the rest of his family watched booming fireworks on the Fourth of July. So, he noticed when your eyes flickered down to his lips. You moved closer and your lips puckered.

You were going to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him.

But Bob didn’t move forward to close the distance, no matter how much he wanted to and he watched your face crumple.

“Bob?” Your voice was weak as he took a small step back; Bob didn’t let you go far and kept his hands firmly planted on your hips. He wouldn’t let you go. Not yet. “Did I do something wrong? I…I’m sorry. I thought-”

But he just shook his head, ducking his chin the slightest bit toward his chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. I just want to make sure this is what you actually want and not because I’m shipping out in a few hours. Deployments make people think-”

You moved to grasp his face, trying to tilt his chin just enough to make him look at you again. There was a desperation in your gaze that let him know that you needed him to hear you, make him understand. “Bob, I can’t lie and tell you that this deployment has nothing to do with it, all right? But this is the first time you’re being sent away from me. I know these things can be dangerous. I know that. I’ve heard horror stories about…” You couldn’t even finish the thought and shook it away. Your thumbs pressed gentle arcs into his cheeks before you dropped your hold. “Let’s just get out of here, okay? We can pretend none of this happened and just go get ice cream and sit and silence and watch the water until you’re sick of me.”

“I don’t think I could ever get sick of you,” Bob said, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could even think of how that would sound to you.

An unsteady smile pushed at your mouth as you took a step backward and then another and another until you were leading him toward your car—Bob quickly redirected you toward his trusty GMC and opened the door for you with a smile of his own. The air in the truck’s cab was tense for a slow song or two, just long enough for you to squirm in your seat until Bob reached over and grabbed your hand.

He didn’t want to upset you—it wasn’t an outright rejection, not at all—he just wanted to be sure that you wanted him like he wanted you.

Bob didn’t do this. He didn’t spend the entire night talking, laughing, pretending he didn’t have to disappear for a few weeks. But with you it felt right. It felt like he should have been doing this with you for months. Years.

Ice cream was purchased at a small roadside shop and Bob pulled onto an overlook and shut off the truck, letting the dim moonlight fill the cab as you both quietly ate your sweet treat—strawberry for Bob, pistachio for you. It was calm and peaceful, a far cry from the noise of the Hard Deck, but he could feel when you started to get nervous again, curling your hands into the skirt of your dress for a moment before starting to fiddle with the cloth-covered buttons on the front.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the deployment?” You asked, and Bob could hear the trepidation in your voice. You turned in your seat to face him and Bob was quick to do the same and you both scooted a little closer to each other on the bench seat, legs awkwardly skirting around the stick shift. “I would have come home sooner.”

But Bob just shook his head and felt his nose scrunch as he tried to pick his words carefully. He didn’t stop until he felt you trail your finger across his brow, wordlessly telling him to relax. Bob couldn’t even remember when you had started doing it, but he had savored it every time and felt his shoulders slump while he finally found the words. He carefully reached up and grasped your hand, linking your fingers together for a moment. “I don’t think I knew how to say goodbye to you.”

You searched Bob’s face and he tried not to hope too much with the look in your eyes. “Bob, I… you don’t have to have anything special to say to me. But please just say something.”

Bob didn’t even realize he was moving until his lips were firm against yours, almost unyielding. Your glasses clicked together as his hand anchored itself on the back of your neck and tilted your face just so but neither of you seemed to mind. He could feel your smile against his mouth.

Your fingers sunk into his hair as his tongue slid against the seam of your lips. He’d give you anything anything anything, and this was no different. All his thoughts about the deployment, about what waited for him in the morning, flew out the window as he hauled you closer, pulling you onto his lap. The warmth of you immediately sank through the heavy fabric of his trousers and he groaned. The noise earned him a breathy sigh against his mouth and your hips sinking and rocking against his again.

“I wanted to do this right. I wanted to do this right with you,” Bob murmured against your mouth as his fingers swiftly undid the buttons down the front of your dress.

“You are,” you said, tone breathy and bordering on needy. “I promise you are. This feels right. Everything feels right with you.”

Bob’s fingers stalled and his bright blue eyes moved up your face until they were boring into yours. “Sweetheart…”

“I mean it,” you said. “Everything feels right with you.”

It might have been less of a shock for Bob if someone had hit him in the chest with a baseball bat. Something whispered at the back of his mind to tell you, to tell you now and make sure you were saying what he thought and hoped you were saying. But he didn’t. Because wouldn’t that be cruel? To draw that out of you before leaving for weeks at a time with no firm promise to return to you? So, instead he kissed you again and tried to press into his mind the way you felt against his mouth as he pushed your dress from your shoulders. He moved to press you down across the bench seat and licked at the thrumming pulse in your neck as he peeled the little scrap of lace down your legs and then shoved them into his pocket.

He would keep those.

Bob moved, knee knocking into the steering wheel for a moment, shoving himself between your thighs after shrugging off his jacket. He pressed a kiss to your ankle, your knee, your thigh, before nosing at your perfect hip bones.

“Bob,” you whined. “Bob, please.”

The salty tang of you was immediately addicting and Bob wrapped his arms over your thighs and dragged you closer closer closer with each flick and twist of his tongue. He could do this forever. He shouldn’t have waited this long.

Your fingers curling through his hair knocked any other thought right out of his head and all that was left was you you you and how your thighs clamped over his ears as you came.

When your legs stopped shaking enough, you hooked your hands behind his head and hauled him up, pressing a rushed, sloppy, perfect kiss against his mouth. Bob’s hands skimmed over the soft skin of your thighs as he settled between them, feeling your wet heat soak his skin.

“Please,” you whispered against his mouth. “Please.”

Bob’s knee hit the horn when he went to shove his trousers and briefs down and he was embarrassed only for a moment but laughed along with you as you dragged him back into your hold, kissing him sweetly as you helped him move back into the cradle of your thighs. You felt divine. Warm, wet, and tight…and perfect. And every movement felt even better. You were clawing at his back as Bob mouthed at the swells of your breasts. You were everywhere, he was everywhere, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whimpered when he raised his head again to lick into your mouth.

Faster and faster, Bob drove into you until you were shaking in his grip, sighing against his spit-slick lips and Bob was quick to follow, collapsing over you and hips rutting into yours lazily in a mindless haze until you whined against his mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured as he maneuvered just enough to press up onto his forearms on either side of your head. Bob didn’t move to pull out, not just yet, enjoying your warmth for a little longer. Just a little longer.

You were beautiful. Sweaty and makeup smudged, you were gorgeous. Bob trailed a finger across your cheek, catching a tear as it slid from your eye.

“Sweetheart?” Did he hurt you? Did something happen-

“Stay with me?” Your eyes were wide and pleading as your grip tightened on his shoulders just a fraction. “Just… Can we just stay like this a little longer?”

Something in Bob’s chest twisted, almost uncomfortable, almost too close to that other word. But still, he said, “of course, sweetheart. Of course.”

The conversation that followed was soft and quiet, filled with everything and nothing, and Bob’s eyes slowly closed with the sound of your heart and the waves outside lulling him to sleep.

A noise woke Bob up some time later. It could have been a passing car or the waves against the shore, it didn’t matter, really. It was still before dawn, the sky an inky shade of blue. He turned to the side, his back protesting the slightest bit, and saw you beside him. Your mouth was parted with sleep, soft breaths escaping in deep, even intervals.

You were beautiful.

And he had to let you go.

**

You hardly remembered waking up and getting dressed again. But you remembered leaning out of the truck to straighten Bob’s hat atop his head. Last night had been perfect and tinged with some sort of unspoken melancholy. Why had you waited so long? “Can I…can I come with you to the carrier? Wave you off?” It was a selfish ask, but you wanted more time, just a little more to cling to before your heart leapt out from between your ribs to try to follow him out to sea. For one of the few times in your life, you knew it wasn’t better to be safe than sorry. You had to take a chance.

Bob’s unfairly pretty blue eyes nearly sparkled in the low light of dawn as he smiled at you. “Of course, sweetheart.”

The ride out to the carrier was quiet aside from Bob asking if you could drop his truck off with Bradshaw. You readily agreed and hated how your stomach twisted when he parked. The imposing behemoth of a ship loomed on the horizon and you walked beside Bob, his duffel in hand, as you weaved through the early morning crowd. He slowed to a stop a few paces away from the carrier’s ramp and turned back to you.

You watched his jaw flex, tight and wanting, and you wanted to tell him how you felt, how you had felt for months, and you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue but they crumbled to nothing when the carrier blared its horn, calling everyone in and pulling Bob’s attention for a moment.

Tears started to build at the backs of your eyes as the carrier blared its horn for a second time. You had to let him go. You just learned what it was like to have him, and you had to let him go.

Bob turned back to you and you recognized the determined set of his jaw as he reached for you after dropping his bag at his feet. His hands smoothed up your arms and hooked at the back of your neck, thumb pressing an incessant pressure at the hinge of your jaw. You could have melted then, you were puddy in his hold and it almost made it worse. “I shouldn’t ask you this. It’s selfish and cruel-”

“Ask me anyway,” you said, the syllables cracking in your throat.

“Will you be here when I get back? Will you wait for me? I know it is a lot to ask, to take me on and-”

Those damn tears came back and you surged forward to press your lips to his again. The kiss was unhurried and uncoordinated but you couldn’t pull away. Not just yet. Not until your lungs burned and your cheeks felt cold. “I’ve been waiting for you for months. What’s a few weeks more?”

Bob’s smile was small but you knew you’d remember it for the rest of your life. He kissed you, soft and breathless, before scooping up his duffel again and walking backward toward the ramp. He was keeping his eyes on you. And you wouldn’t look away. Not now.

In eight weeks’ time, you’d be back here, ready and waiting. And you knew he’d come home. To you.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

[mayasaurusss]

Hi hi!! Love ur writing :3 could we maybe get something about seeing a horror movie with Shauna? Reader is a huge horror fan and Shauna thinks the movie sounds kinda corny but still wants to see something with them?

Day nineteen: watching a scary movie.

Hello anon! It so happened that you requested this just as I was about to start fictober, so I've decided to include your request in! Sorry for the delay. This might be slightly bad because unfortunatley I only slept two hours tonight and I can't even form coherent thoughts.

Shauna sits on your couch, looking at you pulling out your DVD stash.

"I hope you picked a good movie, not one of those corny ones" she says, judging your movie choice.

You had invited your lovely girlfriend, Shauna, to have a movie marathon with you. Now, you knew she wasn't a horror movie fan so you thought she was going to give you a half ass apology, but instead she agreed.

"What movie did you pick?" she looks over your shoulders to see an old dvd copy of 'Scream'. You hear her sigh behind you, and turn to see her slouching back into the couch. "What?! It's a classic, we've gotta see it!".

Shauna can already feel a vein popping in her head. She simply doesn't like horror movies, of any kind, especially those old 80's to 90's movies. Friday the Thirteenth, Nightmare on Elm Street, Scream and many others really aren't the kind of movies she'd watch for fun, unlike you. She much prefers drama and romance.

"I know it's a classic, I'm just not so sure I'll like it" the couch cushion dips under your weight as you sit next to Shauna. "You will, I promise".

“Can’t we like, watch creepy children’s movies? Like Coraline or Monster’s House?” you slowly turn your head at her, giving her a judgmental look. “Kids movies? I mean…yeah maybe we could, but I wanna see this first” you wave the empty case in the air, emphasizing it. “Alright…”

As the movie goes on, Shauna feels more creeped out than she'd like to admit. She moves closer to you, leaning on your body for comfort.

"Oh don't tell me, are you getting scared?" you tease her, feeling how she slightly trembles against you. "No I'm not, I just want to figure out who it is". You scoff at her, "Yeah baby, sure".

During the film, you keep making trivia references about the making of the movie and it's lore, making it harder for Shauna to even enjoy the movie. "You know here in this scene, it's one of the few times where Ghostface is played by an actor and not a stuntman!" and "The party scene was shot over twenty one days!" and "Ghostface's costume was supposed to be white!" and so on.

Her body betrays her when ghostface appears behind Sidney, ready to slice her throat. As the masked killer suddenly appears, Shauna lets out a scream of pure terror and clings for dear life to you.

"Shauna!" she buries herself in your arms, steering her eyes away from the tv. "Hey! It's done, it's done" she emerges from the blankets like a scared puppy, looking between you and the tv. "Is it over?" you let out a relieved sigh, looking to see if she's alright. "Yeah; yeah I paused it".

The monitor illuminates the dark living room, giving it a disturbing look of suspension in time. "...Sorry" she lets go of your body, sitting up straight and away from you, as if staying any second longer may not let her breathe.

"And for what? I am sorry, I forced you to watch something you didn't feel comfortable in" you may have gone overboard, but in truth, you just wanted to slightly tease her. You certainly didn't expect this reaction out of her.

"I am sorry, truly" you tell her, watching how the fear leaves her eyes to be replaced with relief. "But I wanted to. I wanted to watch it with you" she pauses for a second, "You're my... I like you, and I wanted to spend time with you".

A deep feeling of adoration fills your heart and you take her in your arms and hug her tight against you. "Aww, you're so cute!". Shauna is blushing deeply, but she secretly loves all this attention and sweet words you're giving her.

You remain tangled with each other for a moment, until you feel her shift and look up at you. "So...can we watch The Addams Family instead?".

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn't aware of)

Word Count: 0.9k

Taglist: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp  @colsons-baker @junnniiieee07  @ok-boke @ren-ni @katie-tibo @bruce-yamada

A/n: I promise the chapters from this moment onward will be longer! I haven’t proofread this chapter yet, but I’m working on it as it’s published. I can’t leave ya starving now can I? 😜

All chapter links!!! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 12

You stood a few meters away from the door, contemplating on how you were going to walk up to both Sidney and Tatum and act like you didn’t just have a heavy-heated make out session with Billy that almost ended up with your back pressed against the glass window; being railed from the front.

The door opened again, startling you from your thoughts as Billy and Officer Brinks came out.

You watched closely, frowning.

Billy was cuffed and being held aggressively against his own will and his dad only stood a few feet away from him, not even trying to hide the fact he was disappointed in his son.

Billy looked at his father, his white shirt clinging to his muscles from the amount of sweat that was coming off of him, defining them more than needed.

“Tell ‘em.” Billy began, his voice cracking. “Come on, Dad, tell ‘em!”

“Just wait for the lawyer, Billy.” His dad stated, unimpressed.

You wanted to run up to Billy and hug him close, but the interaction you had prior made it impossible for you to even budge.

“Sidney!”

This caught you off guard.

“Sidney, come on, you know me.” He whined, fighting against Officer Brinks’ hold, but the man was far too strong as his grip only strengthened, pulling Billy towards his cell. “Sidney, baby!” He hollered, not noticing your presence in the background.

‘I was merely just a distraction…’ You thought, baffled. ‘How could he do and say that to me, and then beg Sidney to look at him, like we didn’t just almost fuck back there..’ You cringed, biting your lip, trying your hardest not to let any tears build up again, but you failed.

Sniffling, you looked to the side, spotting Tatum, fortunately, she was already heading your way.

“(N/n), we’re going to get you and Sid out of here, okay?” She beamed, placing a hand on your back and began rubbing circles in an attempt to keep you from breaking down.

She gently grabbed your hand after a few seconds and dragged you towards Sidney, who was balling her eyes out.

Tatum looked ahead, seeing her brother, Dewey.

“Hey, Dewey. Can we go now?” She asked, impatient.

“Yeah, hold on a second.” He mumbled, but Tatum wasn’t having it.

“God dammit, Dewey!” She screeched, outstretching her arms to the side, in the process, she let go of your hand as aggravation strung along.

Dewey glared, stomping from his boss.

“What did Mama tell you?” He hissed, “When I’m wearing this badge, you treat me like a man of the law.”

You and Sidney just stared at each other, not sure what to say or do and for a minute, you had completely forgotten about the woeful event that occurred beforehand.

“I’m sorry, Deputy Dewey-boy of the law, but we’re all ready to go…” Tatum huffed, grabbing Sidney’s things and stuffing them away in a bag. “Now.” Tatum finished, handing Dewey Sidney’s things.

The Sheriff laughed, patting Dewey on the back.

“Take ‘em out the back way. Avoid the circus out there.”

___

“Isn’t there a back way out of this building?” Gale asked, already walking towards the back with her cameraman.

“Yeah, down that alley I think.” Kenny answered, hoisting the camera on his shoulder, steadying it.

“You stay here, I’m going to get the police car.” Dewey ordered the three of you and then jogged towards his destination, not realizing Gale was on her way.

“There they are!” Gale suddenly blurted, running towards you, Tatum and Sidney.

“(Y/n)! Sidney!” Gale shouted, slightly out of breath.

The bright beam of the flash on the video-er, blinded you for a moment.

“Hi, this is some night! What happened? Are you two okay?” Gale asked, not really interested, as she shoved the mic between you and Sidney, awaiting answers.

“They’re not answering any questions, all right. Just leave us alone.” Tatum stepped in front of you, swatting the mic away.

“No, Tatum, it’s okay. She’s just doin’ her job, right Gale?” Sidney spoke, now in front, confidence radiating off of her despite the forced smile making its way to her face.

You glanced at Sidney, not sure what she was doing, when all you wanted was to just leave, maybe get some rest before the next day. You were irked as it was, and Gale’s voice just kept going and going, making it more difficult to think, breathe, and leave.

“Yes, that’s right.” Gale grinned, oblivious.

“So, how’s the book?” Sidney asked, curious to know what Gale would say.

“Oh, it’s going well, should be out later this year.” She answers.

“Oh, I’ll look for it.” Sidney mocked, she was definitely pissed off.

“I’ll send you a copy—“

Gale didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as you butted in; your knuckles connected to the side of her face, causing her to knock back, falling into her cameraman. She groaned, pain searing throughout her jaw and cheek, her hand immediately shot to the stinging sensation she felt in a horrible attempt to soothe the affliction.

Sidney’s mouth gaped as she looked at you, not sure if she should thank you or scold you as she wanted to be the one to punch her.

“I’ve had a long day.” You started, “And your voice was the tip of the iceberg.” You growled, “And frankly, I didn’t want to hear you talk anymore.” You fumed, spitting at her feet. “Now, if I were you, I would put that book on hold and shut the fuck up for once.” You finished.

<—Previous Next—>

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xiii

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: You deserve everything Ghostface is giving you, you know it deep down. Why should you live while the others died?

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder. Ghost face spoilers for Scream 1-4.

word count: 4.5k

a/n: 👀 smashed through my writers block, let me know your 🔪🔪 theories.

You haven’t left the car - or Tara’s lap - by the time the police arrive. 

Sam greets them, watches as they make their way through the house, casing for strewn pieces of clothing, discarded weapons, footprints, handprints, anything. 

But there’s nothing to find. Ghostface is long gone. 

By the time they’re done, your anxiety is at an all time high, not even Tara’s arms around you enough to quell the fear inside you. Your chest thumps uncomfortably. Your palms are shaky, sweaty. Flashes of the mask, the knife raised against you. 

Is this how Tara’s victims felt in the end? Is this how Wes felt? 

The only difference between you and Wes is you’d survived. And he’d died innocent while you survived, guilty. It isn’t fair. You deserve everything Ghostface is giving you, you know it deep down. Your will to live is selfish, almost. 

Why should you live while the others died?

The answer is pressed to your side. She’s beautiful, as ever, squeezing your hand so tight the tips of your fingers turn white. Her knee bounces steadily, an indication of her nerves. Her dark eyes are wild, flitting from you to the house to the officers on the lawn. Scanning, as if Ghostface will jump out at any moment. God help him if he does, when she’s like this. White-faced, quietly stewing in her own anger and anxiety. You can almost hear the cogs turning in her brain as she runs wild with the possibilities of who it could be. 

The police have questions, what feels like millions of them. The most pressing is why. Why would Ghostface target you specifically? Of course, you know why. 

You don’t mention the other victims. You don’t mention Tara’s Ghostface mask hidden in a lockbox in her closet. You don’t mention the motive Ghostface had all but spit into your face. 

Someone who thinks you should pay. 

Tara, a little on edge, tires very quickly of their incessant questions. 

“There’s never a why, do you even live in this town?” Tara barks, voice hot with annoyance, “They’re random. They’ve always been random.” 

“That’s not exactly true.” It’s Sheriff Hicks. She climbs out of her squad car, slips her gun into her holster as she stands. 

Your chest tightens. She makes you so nervous. You’re so scared one of these days you’ll slip, blurt out the truth before it’s too late.  

“Billy Loomis blamed Sidney for his mother abandoning him. Nancy Loomis blamed her for killing her son. Roman Bridger and Jill Roberts wanted infamy.” She surveys you, hand resting gently on her holstered pistol, “The question is: what does this Ghostface want?” 

The back of your neck prickles uncomfortably under her gaze. You sink deeper into Tara, wear her almost like a shield. 

“Forget his motive, what are you going to do about catching him?” Tara says, arm tight around your waist, “I want a squad car here 24/7. I want officers escorting YN to school. I want a walkie talkie and a phone number so we can have direct contact with them whenever we need-”

The thought of stepping foot into that house sends shockwaves of panic through your body. You grip her waist, tight, trying to draw her attention. 

“I can’t go back in there.” You say, voice tight, “Tara, I can’t stay here tonight. I can’t sleep here.” 

If Tara’s surprised by this, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she wraps her arms tight around your shoulder and presses a long kiss to your forehead.  

“Okay baby.” She says, “We’ll stay with your parents, how about that?”

“I can post a squad car.” Sheriff Hicks interjects, “Two officers. I’ll give you their cell numbers. I’m afraid we’re all out of walkie-talkies.”

She looks at you, for the first time in a long time there’s sympathy in her eyes, “You’re going to be okay.” She promises, “My officers are the very best. But you call me if you remember anything. Anything at all that could help.” 

The moment is interrupted by the sheen of blinding headlights. You avert your gaze, blink away the stars in your eyes at the sudden intrusion. 

It’s a familiar truck, the heavy slam of the door signals the driver has exited the vehicle. You squint, make out Richie’s figure as he rushes towards you. 

“Hey. I came here as fast as I could. Where’s Sam, is she okay?” He’s out of breath, a little panicked as he scans the driveway for his girlfriend. 

“Sam’s fine.” Tara says, her shoulders tight, “YN was attacked.” 

Richie blinks. 

“By Ghostface? Are you alright?” 

“Of course she’s not alright.” Snaps Tara, “Some psycho just attacked her at knifepoint.”

She pauses, as if something has just occurred to her. Suspicion brews in her eyes. 

“Where have you been?” 

Richie draws his attention back to her. The lights of the police sirens flash across his face. 

“I was meeting some friends at a bar,” Richie says, “Is Sam in the house?” 

“What friends? You got an alibi?” Tara asks, her eyebrows drawn tight. 

“You’re not serious?” Richie stares back at her. 

The Sheriff tilts her head, suddenly interested. 

“Do you?” She reiterates, “Tara and Sam are accounted for. We’ll need to corroborate with any potential witnesses who can place you at the bar.” 

Richie opens his mouth in disbelief. He looks between the three of you, waiting for the punchline. 

“I didn’t make it there. Sam called-”

The Sheriff hums, scribbles something down on her notepad. 

“So no alibi.” Tara scoffs, “You’ve been here two weeks and the one night you go out, YN gets attacked.” 

“This is ridiculous.” Richie splutters, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, “Tara. Why would I attack YN? I have no motive.” 

But Tara’s mind is made up, she crosses her arms, glares at the Sheriff. 

“Are you going to arrest him or what?”

“Tara. I can’t just arrest people.” The Sheriff says, closing her notebook. She looks at Richie, “I suggest you outline to one of my officers the exact route you took to and from the bar. If we can place you on CCTV we can rule you out as a suspect.” 

“You can’t arrest people?” Tara challenges. There’s that fire, the one that’s been brewing for the last hour, finally emerging, “What kind of a Sheriff are you?”

“Tara.” You hiss. You turn back to the Sheriff, eyes wide, “I am so sorry, Sheriff, she’s just scared-”

“Scared?” Tara says, sounding outraged. Her dark eyes burn, “I’m furious. I have a prime suspect for you and you won’t arrest him-”

“Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean I put on a Ghostface mask and tried to kill your girlfriend.” Richie argues, loudly. 

“What’s going on?” It’s Sam, finally emerging from the house. Richie and Tara both turn to face her, matching expressions of outrage on their faces. 

“What’s going on? Your creep of a boyfriend just tried to murder my girlfriend.” Tara snarls. 

Richie throws his hands up. 

“Why? Why would I want to kill her?”

“I don’t know.” Tara says, “You tell me. Because you’re twisted?”

“You know what,” Richie says, his nostrils flaring. He points his finger at her, “It definitely wasn’t me, because if I was going to murder anyone, it would be you-”

“Stop it!” Sam yells, “Both of you. God. You’re like fucking children.” 

They both fall silent. Glare at each other. Sam storms off, presumably back into the house. With a final dirty look at Tara, Richie turns and follows her inside. 

You take Tara’s hand, rub your fingers over the back of her hand reassuringly. Richie is a little strange, granted, but you seriously doubt he’d try and kill you. You’ll talk her down later tonight, you figure. Right now; you want out of here. 

“Do you have any more questions, Sheriff?” You ask, quietly hoping the answer is no, “I need to call my Dad.”

She surveys you for a moment. 

“I think we’re all good here.” She says, finally, “Call me if you remember anything.” 

-

Your Dad is freaked, rightfully so. 

In a panic, he demands you come home. He seems to be so frightened he doesn’t even protest when you tell him Tara’s coming too. 

She’s still glaring at Richie as she pulls out of the driveway, leaving the slew of officers and sirens behind as she makes her way to your parents home. One hand on the wheel, the other gripping your thigh, tight. 

“It’s him, I know it’s him.” She stews, hands tightening on the wheel, “How fucking suspicious can he be. Meeting with some friends, my ass.” 

“We don’t know that, babe.” You say, squeezing her hand, “He’s kind of right - what’s his motive? As far as I know we haven’t done anything to offend him.” 

“I’ve been on his ass since he got here.” Tara says, “Maybe he’s sick of me. Of us.” 

“Or maybe it’s someone else.” You say, staring out the window, “Someone related to the others. Sadie has a brother, I think. One of Aaron’s friends? One of Chase’s?”

There’s a long list of people who would want vengeance on the two of you. It hurts your head to think about. 

“Cool it on Richie, please babe. If he is Ghostface, the last thing we need is him getting spooked.”

“I need to get him away from Sam,” She says, chewing her bottom lip, “If he hurts her-”

“We don’t know it’s him, babe.” You say, pressing your hand over Tara’s, rub the back of her knuckles, “Besides, if he is Ghostface, he’s not going to kill her. His beef is with us.”

It doesn’t calm her down. Her knee is still bouncing when she pulls into your parents driveway, grip around thigh so tight it’s starting to hurt. She shuts off the car and presses a kiss to the back of your hand. 

“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry baby.” She says, voice heavy. Despite the comfort she’s trying to give you, her eyes betray her. Brown, wide, swimming with worry, “No one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I’m not taking my eyes off you. You’re not going anywhere alone, I mean it. You’ll have to get used to me watching you pee.” 

You half think she’s kidding, until she follows you upstairs and into the bathroom. 

“Absolutely not.” You say, pressing your hand to her chest and pressing a kiss to her lips, “Wait here.”

“But-”

“Ghostface isn’t hiding in the bathtub, babe.” You tell her, and close the door behind you. 

You pause. Check the bathtub just in case. 

Your parents make a fuss, like you knew they would. Your mom rushes off to comfort cook, something she does best, and your Dad gets his power tools out, triple checks all the windows and doors for any shaky locks. 

If he minds Tara staying the night, he doesn’t say it. Instead, he hovers at the bedroom door, eyeing her up as he reiterates his safety mechanisms. 

“Keep the door locked,” He says, voice gruff as you climb onto the bed, next to Tara, “At all times. Front and back. I have a security specialist coming in tomorrow to install some cameras and alarms.” 

“Thanks Dad.” You say. It takes the weight of your chest, just a little. 

“I’ve got my shotgun loaded and ready to go,” He continues, “If you hear anything- anything at all - just call out and I’ll be here in a moment.” 

“Do you have a spare?” Tara asks suddenly, “Gun, that is? I’ll be a little closer, is all.” 

He watches her for a moment. That expression is on his face - the one he always wears when he sees Tara. Mild distaste, like he’s just taken a bite of something that’s gone bad. Briefly, you worry he’s going to try to kick her out. 

“I can’t give a gun to a kid.” He says, voice curt. Her brows furrow. 

“This kid might be the only person who’s able to protect her in time.” Tara challenges, “You’re all the way across the hall. What if he covers her mouth so she can’t cry out?”

“Babe.” You warn, “It’s fine. We’ll be fine.” 

Your Dad shifts his weight, staring Tara down. You know he doesn’t like her, it’s written all over his face. But if she goes, so do you. And he understands that, you know he does. 

“I have a handgun.” He says, finally. He looks at you, “I’ll give it to YN. Remember those lessons down at the cabin? You’re confident you know how to use it?” 

You nod. 

When you were younger, your Dad had taken you shooting, taught you how to fire a gun, how to load it - and most importantly, how not to hurt yourself doing it. The thought of drawing out a gun to protect Tara from Ghostface’s knife makes you feel only the slightest bit better. 

He looks back to Tara. The distaste is back in his expression. 

“It’s for her. You’re not to touch it. Understand?”

You can feel Tara fizzling next to you. Her fingers curl, and before she can give your Dad the dressing down you know she so desperately wants to give, you jump in. 

“She understands.” You say quickly, “Thanks Dad.”

“I don’t know what his problem is,” Tara complains, stormy-eyed, when he finally leaves, “I’m just trying to protect you.” 

“He’s just being a Dad,” You say, pulling her into your arms and quelling her mood with a kiss, “Don’t take it personally.”

Dinner’s awkward. 

Your head is a mess, heart pounding out of your chest every time you think of the looming threat. Tara grips your thigh under the table protectively, as if she’s afraid Ghostface might launch in any second and send the roast laid out on the table flying. 

Your Dad glares at Tara. Tara glares back at him. Your mom stares at you, worry in her eyes. 

You stare down at your plate, your appetite somewhat dissipated. 

“I just don’t understand.” Your mom says for what seems like the hundredth time this evening, “What does he want with you?”

“What does he want with any of them?” You mumble, “He’s a psycho, that’s all.” 

You push a rogue potato around your plate, starting to regret the choice to come home. At least Sam’s questions were easily combatted by one of Tara’s swiftly timed jabs. You could hardly expect Tara to snap at your Mom. 

“Let’s not talk about it.” Your Dad says, to your relief, “You’re freaking her out.” 

“I’m just saying,” Says your Mom, chewing her lip, “Are we sure he was there… for you?”

She lets it hang. The scrape of cutlery against plates stops momentarily, as the entire table takes in the implication. You frown, look up at your Mom. 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.” She says, hurriedly. You don’t miss the glance she sneaks at Tara. 

“Seriously?” You say, “You’re blaming Tara?”

“I’m not blaming anyone.” She says quickly, “I’m just saying-”

“Well, don’t.” You snap, standing up, “God. Tell me now if you don’t want us here and we’ll go.” 

“Of course we want you here.” Your Mom says, “YN, sit down, please sweetheart-”

“I’m not hungry.” You say, scooting yourself away from the table, “Thanks anyway. Come on, babe, let’s go to bed.” 

They don’t protest as you lead Tara upstairs and into your bedroom. You slip your pants off, curl up into bed, take Tara in your arms. 

“Your Mom’s right, you know.” She says, after a quiet moment, “None of this would be happening if it weren’t for me.” 

“Don’t say that.” You murmur. You press a kiss to her head, wrap your arms a little tighter around her. 

“It’s true.” 

It is true. But she doesn’t need to think that, not right now. You curl your fingers through her dark hair, scratch her scalp affectionately. 

“You-” You hesitate, picking your words carefully, “You’ve made some mistakes. But that’s in the past now. You turned over a new leaf, remember?”

You remember it vividly. The night after Amber’s death, making her swear black and blue she’d never kill again. Promising her she’d never have a reason. She shifts in your arms and looks up at you. There’s something in her eyes. Fear. Hesitance. 

“Baby,” She says, biting her lip, “Whoever this person is. I have to kill him. You know that, right?”

Your stomach flips. 

“No.” You say immediately, “No, Tara.”

“If he’s alive, he’ll hurt you. You know I can’t let that happen. We can’t turn him in, he knows too much. It’s the only way.” 

That sinking feeling is back. The one that had been there when Chase died. The one after Amber and the one after Wes. Like everything is crumbling around you. You squeeze her a little tighter. 

“I’ll do it.” You say. The thought makes you sick. The thought of her doing it makes you sicker. 

“No, baby.” Tara says. She presses a kiss to your shoulder, “Not after last time. Look at what Wes did to you.”

“I don’t care.” You say, shaking your head, “I don't want you doing it. You can’t-” 

Be trusted, is what you want to say. The Rage is terrifying, violent, and you don’t want to reawaken it. You hold it back, pull her closer to you. 

“I don’t want that part of you back. I don’t like that part of you.” 

Tara’s quiet a moment. 

“It’s already back, babe.” She says, pulls your hand to her chest. Her heartbeat is wild, out of control, “Don’t you see? It isn’t killing that prompts it. It’s anybody trying to get to you.”

You’re too tired to fight. Too tired to admit she might be right. At the end of the day if it’s her or him, you know what you’d rather her do. 

You lean down, press your lips to hers, try to redirect the conversation. 

“You will sleep tonight, right?” 

“Not likely.” She admits, her grip on your hips tightening. 

“Let’s take it in shifts.” You suggest, pressing a kiss to the side of her head, “Half and half so we both get some sleep.” 

She nuzzles her nose into the side of your neck. 

“Okay. I’ll take first watch.”

She looks towards the handgun your Dad left for you on the bedside table, tugs it carefully over to her side of the bed. 

“You know how to use that?” You ask, a little skeptical, “You know to turn the safety off?” 

“Yes babe, I know how to use a gun.” She assures, a little irritated you asked. 

“Alright, alright. Just checking. The last thing I need is you shooting yourself in the foot.” 

“Give me some credit,” She grumbles, “That’s something Chad would do.” 

You kiss her, softly, then snuggle down into her chest. Listen to the rise and fall of her breathing, her rampant, crazed heartbeat as it pumps in her chest. 

“Remember to wake me.” 

-

She doesn’t wake you, as you should have predicated. When you open your eyes it’s the next morning, and she’s pressing a warm kiss to your lips. 

You scrunch your eyes, blink her into view. 

“Babe? Did you stay up the whole night?” She kisses your forehead, nudges a warm cup of coffee into your hands. 

“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. There was no point in me waking you.” 

“Baby.” You groan. Her eyes are red, tired. You press your hands to her cheeks, lean up to kiss her. 

“You’re exhausted.” 

“I’ll nap in science.” She promises, “Mrs. Fletcher is enough to put anyone to sleep. Besides. I needed to make sure you were safe.” 

She kisses you again.

“Speaking of: I asked Chad and Liv to stop by with a few supplies.” 

She reaches for a paper bag, empties out the contents onto your mattress. You sit up, interest piqued. 

It’s nothing less of an armory. You blink, hold up a small metal device. 

“A rape whistle and a taser?” You say, “Babe, how am I supposed to take this into school?”

“Keep them in your purse.” Tara says, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable request, “It’s not like they check our bags. It’s for emergencies.”

She presses a long kiss to your forehead, “But you won’t need them. I’m not leaving your side. Not for a minute.” 

“I have Chem today,” You say, heavily, “And you have English. We can’t be together all the time, Tara.” 

“We’re skipping.” Tara says, “I’m taking you home early.” 

“Tara, if the school calls my Dad and he finds out I’m skipping classes-”

“He’ll do nothing.” Tara says, fire behind her eyes, “You’re eighteen, he can’t force you home with him. And if he tries then I’ll-”

“You’re not killing my Dad.” You say, firmly. She pouts a little. 

“That isn’t what I was going to say,” She says, a little put out, “I’d give him a piece of my mind, is all.” 

You sit up, pull her into you. 

“Sorry, babe.” You apologize, soothe her with a kiss, “I’m just a little on edge.” 

“It’s fine,” She reassures, “Just please keep these on you. Please.” 

You agree for her sake. 

-

Word gets out quick. 

People stare in the hallways, everyone trying to get a glimpse of Ghostface’s latest victim. It’s unsettling, this much attention. You grip Tara’s hand tight in yours and try to ignore the leering of the other students as she walks you to your locker. 

When you reach it, Mindy, Chad and Liv are waiting for you. 

“Is it true you saw him?” Chad asks, wide-eyed. 

“Is it true he stabbed you?” Liv asks. 

You shoot her a look, open your locker and grab your books for first period. 

“Does it look like he stabbed me, Liv?” You ask, witheringly. 

“Give her some space guys,” Tara says, pushing Liv back slightly, “She’s not a zoo animal.” 

“Still.” Mindy says, “You survived a brush with Ghostface. Not many people can say that.” 

You ignore the hot flash of dread that zaps through you at the mention of him. He could be anyone. Maybe he’s even here now, watching you. Waiting to get you alone. It must flash through your face because suddenly Tara’s hands are on your waist, rubbing your back reassuringly.

“She doesn’t want to talk about it.” Tara says, a little protectively, “Why don’t we meet you guys in Math.” 

“Come on.” Mindy says, “Not talking about him gives him power. You don’t know who it is, right? Maybe we can help you figure it out.” 

“Maybe it’s you, Mindy.” Liv says, voice sweet, “After all, you’re obsessed with horror movies.” 

Mindy looks over, sharply. 

“What kind of motive is that?” She says, annoyed, “Besides, I’m not the only one who likes horror movies. Tara does too. Maybe even more than me.” 

“So Tara attacked her own girlfriend, that’s your theory?” Chad says, incredulous. 

Mindy shrugs, “It’s happened before.” 

She turns to you. 

“YN, ever get the feeling like Tara wants to kill you?”

“I’m going to kill you in a minute,” Tara growls. 

“Yeah.” Mindy nods, like her theory is confirmed, “Major Ghostface vibes.” 

“Stop it,” You say, reaching for your Math textbook, “Tara didn’t attack me, she was with Sam. And I’d really rather not talk about it.”

Mindy’s shoulders deflate a little. 

“Wes likes horror movies too.” Liv pipes up, “Maybe that’s why he ran away. He wanted us all to think he was dead so he could live his true life as Ghostface.” 

You roll your eyes. Let them bicker. As you grab your final textbook your finger catches on something soft. Something you didn’t put there. 

It’s a t-shirt, worn, gray, ACDC logo on the front. Your fingers curl around it, brows furrowing. Something hard is within the fabric. You fish it out, turn the cool plastic in your hand. It’s a DVD. Stab 2. Your stomach flips.

You slam your locker shut, white as a sheet. It draws the attention of the entire group. You feel a little dizzy, like you might pass out. Someone had been in your locker. It feels more of a violation than it should. Tara straightens, grips your hand. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” She asks immediately. 

“Bathroom.” You mumble. 

You don’t say goodbye to Tara’s friends. You tug her behind you hard and fast, not sure how much longer you’ll be able to stand upright. 

When you reach the bathroom, you slam the door closed, fish out the t-shirt and thrust it towards Tara. 

“What’s this?” She looks confused. Flips the t-shirt in her hands. 

“It’s Wes’,” You say. You take a heavy breath, try to quell the blood rushing to your ears. 

Tara swallows. Her fingers brush the DVD. 

“Stab 2.” She says, furrowing her brows, “What is this supposed to mean?” 

“I don’t know.’ You say, biting your lip, “Nothing good. How did he get into my locker?” 

“The school has cameras.” Tara says, thinking fast, “If I can get into the security feed I might be able to see who it was.” 

“How are you going to do that?” You ask,  

She bites her lip. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Please don’t get yourself in trouble,” You say, reaching for her hand. You entwine your fingers, “The last thing I need is you getting kicked out of school.” 

“I’ll be careful.” She promises. Dips down to kiss you. 

Then, she retracts, tosses the t-shirt and DVD in the trash. 

“Tara. What are you doing? What if we need that?” 

“We don’t need it, babe.” Tara assures, “Ghostface is trying to fuck with us, that’s all. Besides, the last thing we need is for the Sheriff to catch us with Wes’ old t-shirt and one of his movies.”

She pulls you in again, holds you tight. 

“Are you going to be okay in class?”

You nod, drop your forehead to her neck. Wrap your arms around her waist. Your hand catches on something in the back pocket of her jeans. You furrow your brow, then tug it out. 

“Tara!” You hiss,  mouth dropping, “You brought a knife to school?”

Tara blinks back at you. 

“Of course I did.” She says, “There’s some lunatic running around. You really thought I wouldn’t come prepared?” 

“Baby, if one of the teachers catches you with this-”

“I have it hidden.” She assures, “They’ll never see it. How am I supposed to protect you if I don’t have a weapon?”

You're more concerned with protecting her. There’s a horrible niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like Ghostface has been a little too easy on her so far. The knife in her hand gives you only the slightest reprieve. 

“Let’s go to class.” She says, with a kiss to your cheek, “Do you have your rape whistle?”

You shoot her a look, tug at the string around your neck. She’d insisted you wear it at all times. 

“Right here, babe.” 

“Good girl.” She kisses you once more. 

Your fingers curl around the taser in your back pocket. Slip your phone into your backpack and head to class, Tara’s fingers entwined with your own. 

You take a deep breath. You're in school. In the middle of the day. Hundreds of students around.

Whoever Ghostface is, he wouldn't be so stupid to attack you in broad daylight.

Right?

next part

[toasttt11]

daughter

August 7, 2006

Sidney was pacing out side the hospital walls, hearing the screams of Jasmine, who has been in labor for 17 hours now. Sidney had sent home his parents and younger sister as they had been with they all day and he wanted them to at least get some sleep.

Sidney’s head snapped up as the door opened and one of the nurses walked out, “Mr. Crosby, your daughters been born.” The woman gave him a kind smile.

“Daughter!” Sidney choked out as Jasmine didn’t want to find out the gender as she didn’t care for it.

Sidney shook his head pushing back the emotions, “Can i see her.” Sidney questioned looking desperately towards the nurse.

“Of course.” The nurse kindly replied and gestured for him to walk into the room.

Sidney walked in and only spared a single glance at his ex-girlfriend, who was turned away from the door and away from the bassinet that had his newborn daughter in it.

Sidney took slow steps and looked down and saw the most precious thing in the whole work, Sidney knew his daughter has already stolen his heart and nothing was more important to him then her, he gently picked her up and she made a small cooing sound as her little fingers wrapped around his finger.

“Hello Cameron.” Sidney lovingly mumbled, letting out a watery laugh as he feels his cheeks wet from his tears.

He has picked out the name when he found out about her, He loved it because it fit for a girl or a boy name, just like his.

“Sir?” One of the nurses kindly called out gaining his attention, “You have to write out full name and as Ms. Waters has signed away all of her rights so you will need to sign this for the birth certificate.” The nurse set down the papers in front of her him and handed him the pen.

Sidney nodded and shifted his daughter carefully to his one arm and picked the pen up in the other hand, he wrote out her name, Cameron Taylor Crosby. And signed everything he needed too and handed the papers back to the nurse.

“We just need to clean her up and give her a checkup and you’re good to bring her home dad.” Another nurse kindly told Sidney and stretched her hands out towards to take Cameron, Sidney hesitated not liking the idea of letting go of his daughter.

The nurse just calmly smiled because she is use to parents not wanting to let go of their kids, “Why don’t you come with us.” She kindly suggested and Sidney quickly nodded and followed the nurses out of the room not even sparing a glance at his ex, he picked up his back pack swinging it onto his shoulder.

Sidney followed them into the room and gently and reluctantly set his daughter onto the bed, he stayed closed by her side tho and let her fingers stay gently wrapped around his finger.

The nurse started doing a thorough check up on the newborn making sure everything was good and she was healthy before she then started cleaning her up, “Do you have an outfit to bring her home in?” The nurse asked him as many parents will bring in an outfit to bring their baby’s home or the hospital will give them one.

Sidney nodded and opened his backpack pulling out a white and pastel yellow onesie that has little flowers on it, the nurse helped him put it onto Cameron.

The nurse then made sure she went over everything with him as she could tell he was nervous and she knew he was a single father so she wanted him to feel prepared.

“And you are ready to take your girl home.” The nurse kindly told Sidney making him smile, he nodded and thanked the nurse before he started the walked out of the room and down the hallway towards the front of the hospital, he walked out of the front doors and to his car.

Sidney opened the back door and gently laid his newborn daughter into her new car seat and he gently caressed her tiny and soft cheek and gave her one more lovingly smile before he shut the door and he walked around putting all of his stuff into the car before he got into the driver seat.

Sidney took a nervous breath as he turned on the car and slowly and cautiously pulled out of the parking spot and drove the short drive to his house in Nova Scotia, he had recently bought his own house in his home town and bought a house in Pittsburgh as he wanted his daughter to have homes.

Sidney gently grabbed his peacefully sleeping newborn, he slung his bags over his shoulder.

He walked into his house for the first time with his daughter and it felt like home with her.

He set down all of his bags by the door and gently walked over to his couch and slowly sat down being mindful of his daughter in his arms.

Sidney knew he needed to tell his parents and younger sister, and his team that his daughter has been born but he wanted some time alone with Cameron, taking a moment to just have with his daughter.

Sidney slowly and gently slipped his shirt off as he read in one of the parenting books that babies enjoy skin to skin contact and he gently rested his newborn daughter on his chest and pressed a gentle kiss to her head.

Sidney knew that being a single dad and only about to start in his second NHL season, he knew it would be a lot of work but he had a good support system and it would all be worth it for his daughter.

Sidney felt his daughter squirm around slightly and he gently hummed a small soft tune and gently rubbed his tiny back and felt her let out a little puff of air before relaxing fully against him once again.

Sidney smiled contently and relaxed more into the couch and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and could feel his eyes slowly beginning to fall shut.

[marcandreyuri]

flip flop: mario pov from i'll keep you (a secret)

fic ask meme

↻FLIP FLOP: A scene from another character's POV from i'll keep you (a secret)

oohhh this is tricky because i've gone back and forth since writing that fic on whether mario Knows about sid and geno and how in love they are or if he only suspects/thinks they're less close than they are. for the purposes of this, i think i'll go with "he Knows."

Mario sends Flower to go get Sidney, and half an hour later he hears the telltale creak of the stairs as Sidney winds his way up to his room in the attic, where Nathalie insists he sleeps even when Mario brings Sid into their bed and fucks him until he cries.

He finishes up a phone call with Jagr going over the European side of things. Jagr likes to scout new talent for Mario while running the coke business on the Czech side of things, and he's found a guy he thinks Mario will like. Jagr's practically ready to ship him to the states in a cargo container alongside the drugs. Mario thinks nostalgically he'd rather have Jaromír when he opened the shipping crate, not whatever new little flame that's bound to burn out when Mario puts them to work.

After getting off the phone and promising Nathalie that he'd pick the kids up from school tomorrow, he goes upstairs.

Sidney's waiting for him, like a good boy. He is a good boy, soft and beautiful and quiet when he needs to be and dirty when Mario wants him to be. He gets why Geno was drawn to him in the first place.

He learned his lesson though, Mario muses when he walks over to Sidney on the bed, laying on his stomach like he knew Mario would use him tonight.

Geno thought he could parade his little slut, his little prize, his little love around at parties and show him off like he owned him, forgetting that everything in the city is Mario's.

Including Sidney. Including Geno.

He lays down on top of Sidney now, years later, thrusting his cock up against Sidney's plump ass, covered by the thin boxers Mario bought for him. Sidney squirms under him like he just can't help it, even though Geno probably gave it to him good tonight. He usually does, Sidney coming home loose and open.

"Did you like my gift, baby?" Mario whispers in Sidney's ear, admiring the way his black collar looks up against Sidney's milky white skin. Then, "You’ve been so good for me lately."

Sidney makes a little shocked noise in the back of the throat, just like Mario knew he would. He's predictable like that, something that sometimes bores Mario and sometimes comforts him.

"Usually I’m the gift," Sidney says uncertainly.

Mario likes it, lending Sidney out to various associates and underlings and allies. He likes the way they come back, dazed from Sidney's mouth or laughing about something. The way they're easy afterwards--to convince or kill or sell to.

Geno's different, though. Mario understands him. He knows that if he didn't keep giving Geno these little moments of hope, he would turn on him. And despite himself, he likes Geno's work. He's a master with the garrote wire.

“Not tonight," Mario clarifies, because it's true. Sidney needs to feel a flutter of hope that things can work out with him and Geno too. Desperate people do crazy things, and Mario would rather not know what a desperate Sidney does. He would so hate to have to kill him. "Did you like it?”

Mario starts grinding his cock into Sidney's ass as Sid answers, "Yeah, I did. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now I think we said at dinner we had something to pick up later," Mario says as he arranges Sidney the way he likes him, ass in the air, the clasp of his collar gleaming, Sid's face shoved down into the sheets.

Mario hooks his fingers through Sidney's collar and relishes the little cut off choking noise Sid always makes when he does, like he still can't believe Mario would remind him of his place, of who he is.

“What was it again?” He asks.

Sid smiles, a beautiful, fake thing.

[mash4077confessions]

For your last reblog, please do Mulcahy!!! I love your answers for him. You’re almost single handedly keeping Mulcahy girlies alive!

Thank you very much 😊

Alrighty, let's do the rest of these headcanon questions for Mulcahy!

3) Who depends on them? Everyone at 4077th, in someway shape or form, even if they don't really notice it. He would be prime for an "It's A Wonderful Life" kind of episode.

Back in Philadelphia...it's a very different story. Hell, one of the main reasons why he volunteered to go to Korea, was because he wanted to be useful and no one seemed to need him in Philadelphia.

4) What they would do if they had one month to live?

At first, I think Mulcahy would be very angry. He'd randomly lash out, he'd be hitting his punching bag. Then he'd get very solemn. He'd pray (a lot more than usual), and he'd drink heavily. Then Mulcahy would come out of that, and decide that his last days were better spent on others, instead of pitying himself.

He'd donate all his money, spend extra time with his friends and Kathy. He might even reach out to his brothers that he's long since stopped speaking to.

Mulcahy would give his all till the last moment of life, and still he'd ask quietly to himself, whether or not he'd really done enough.

5) A cherished personal belonging?

Well he has several things I can think of off the top of my head. The crucifix necklace he wears all the time, that was from Kathy. She gave it to him when he decided to join the church, and so it is very valuable to him.

He also has several photographs that he made a point to bring with him to Korea (one of his parents on their wedding day, as no one else seemed interested in having it, a picture of him and Kathy as toddlers, and then the one family portrait they had done when he was still a baby).

There is also his rather healthy library he took with him as well (Plato, War and Peace, The Completed Works of Shakespeare).

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back?

his hearing

His mother. She died just before his 18th birthday. I'm still deciding what actually killed her, but it definitely was caused in part to her having had so many children (7 total). It does things to your body.

If we're just talking about a general item, he has "lost" a couple of autographs from his favorite boxers (I say lost in quotations because what really happened was a nun found his autographed boxing magazines, including one signed by Artie Levine, and she threw them away because she didn't think it was appropriate for a priest to have so many images of shirtless men laying around. She claimed it was the boxing she took issue with, but we know what she was really thinking).

7) This character’s favorite character?

Hawkeye. It kinda goes without saying. Mulcahy is often in awe of him, and he finds him humorous (although a tad obnoxious at times), and he goes to him for help because he knows Hawkeye will be there when he needs him and won't judge him for reaching out.

Mulcahy is also great friends with Potter, though the man is much older than he is, they have a surprising amount in common (side note: is it just me or when William Christopher got old, he started looking more like Harry Morgan?)

Mulcahy also has very close friendships with both Klinger and Sidney.

8) What kind of car they would drive?

I don't think Mulcahy owns a car in his civilian life. Public transportation would have still been pretty common in 1950s Philadelphia and when he was in college at Loyola, that was in Chicago. No real big need to own a car when you're in a city center. That said, if he did have a vehicle, it would be old and second-hand. It would work but it wouldn't be fancy. Probably white or sand colored.

10) How they deal with pain?

Like physical pain? Dude can take a hit. When he was a featherweight boxer (his former life before Kathy got him to become a priest) he'd have concussions, couple broken ribs, black eyes, etc. Of course he gave as good as he got, and then some. But he has a pretty high pain tolerance.

(If you want to talk about that time that Margaret hit him and he acted like he was in pain, it's because she's a woman and he can't hit a woman, so he knew he'd have no way to physically defend himself if she really decided to let him have it. She's also REALLY strong.)

11) This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing?

Mulcahy isn't much into fashion. If it fits and doesn't have holes or stains on it, it's good enough for him. His priestly attire is more important to him than any civilian clothes he owns. That said, he is very fond of his Loyola hoodie (aren't we all?), that "G" baseball cap that Hawkeye bought him, and he does have one really nice lavender button down dress shirt (worn only on leave in Tokyo, which he seldom gets to do).

13) What kind of parent they would be?

The best kind. He would be soooooo loving and affectionate towards his children. He would spend so much time and energy engaging with them on their level. The kids at St. Teresa's Orphanage absolutely adore him, and he adores them right back. He's not great at discipline, though. That would be his partner's job, for sure. Not that he can't lay down the law, when needed, but he's afraid he's overdoing it and sounding like his father.

14) How they did in school?

Mulcahy was always very interested in learning and had no problem keeping up with the lessons. The trouble was that sometimes he just really wanted to read Plato or Aristotle or The Odyssey...and his teachers didn't appreciate him wanting to go off and do his own thing. He definitely got hit by at least one teacher at school fairly regularly for this.

Mulcahy always wanted to learn and discuss very broad topics, and his teachers didn't want to deal with that. Which was not great for him because they'd labeled him a troublemaker, and that got him the belt from his dad. Mulcahy always got on better with the girls in his class rather than the boys.

The boys were all like his brothers and his father; they wanted to rough house and when they got older, go skirt chasing. The girls liked him because he was sweet, and kind, and dorky. They felt safe with him. The boys also beat him mercilessly, until he was 12 and learned that it was OK to defend himself.

Many a time, he had his glasses broken, and once again, his dad would go right for the belt.

I think he was always on the outs in school, even in the seminary. I'm sure he had friends but he also had a lot of people looking at him as if he were just one giant question mark. No one really knowing what to make of him, and overlooking so many wonderful aspects of his being, because of that lack of understanding.

15) What cologne or perfume they would use?

I don't know if he really uses any. If Mulcahy does ever use cologne, it's going to be something cheap and earthy. He is a very cleanly person and he has really nice kinda fruity smelling soap and shampoo. Because he's around the church incense so often, it does stick to his robes. The incense has a nice cedar sort of smell to it.The point being in all this, is that he bathes regularly (probably the most often out of anyone in the main cast) and he does smell very nice.

17) What they’d sing at karaoke?

Something upbeat and fun. Maybe from a musical?

18) Special talents they have?

As previously stated, Mulcahy has a serious green thumb when it comes to his garden. He's also got one hell of a right hook for boxing. He plays piano (how well depends entirely on who you ask). Mulcahy has a pretty solid knack for gambling as a whole, but his odds do fair a lot better when making bets specifically on people...rather than cards. He can whistle pretty well too. Carries a nice tune when he sings (still better sounding with a partner).

Sometimes his most important talent is just getting people to agree to let things go with a small smile, and a tiny "please? 😇"

Mulcahy can also read Greek...though that's mostly just so he can read poetry in its original language.

Also did you see his sand castle in GFA? Dude has some mad skills to pull that one off without a mold.

Mulcahy is a mutitalented person. I didn't even name all his talents/skills.

20) Household chore they hate the most?

This is tough, because Mulcahy loves to clean. He loves dishes, and laundry, and finds dusting rather relaxing. Of course, this is all done as an act of service for someone else's benefit; the rest of the 4077th, those he shares the rectory with back home, his mother when he was a child, etc.

My best guess would be cooking. I think he can cook a fairly decent meal, but most of the time he's only ever cooked for himself and that immediately makes him disinterested in the task. He's just doing it because he has to eat. That's it.

21) Their fondest childhood memory?

Ok, not counting the Gentleman Joe memory because we already know all about that one. I'd say it's a memory of a time with his mother for sure. A time when the house was quiet, because his older brothers and Kathy were away at school, his father was working, and there with his head nestled in his mother's lap was baby Mulcahy, listening to her as she read to him, and stroked his head. It was a good place to be.

22) How they spend their money?

While in Korea most of his money goes to St. Teresa's Orphanage and a few creature comforts for himself.

Back at home he definitely still gives a lot to charity (he has his preferred organizations within the greater Philadelphia area). Of course he has to spend money on necessities such as food, toiletries, clothing items as they fall apart, etc. He gives gifts to his loved ones from time to time as well (birthdays and Christmas in particular, but sometimes just to cheer people up).

As for money he spends on himself just because; well he gambles and you gotta have money on hand for that, he sometimes splurges and treats himself to a good quality cigar or a higher quality beer. He's got some good leather dress shoes that he keeps well polished. Oh! And on theater tickets (both plays and the movies). He also occasionally hits the local art museums and will spend hours there looking at the paintings and statues.

(And as I write this, I know suddenly really want to take him to the MET, because he'd absolutely love it.)

23) What kind of alcohol they drink?

Beer and occasionally wine. His max alcohol percentage is 5%. Anything stronger than that and he will get plastered so quickly. Most of the time, when he drinks you'll notice him sort of nursing his beer, as opposed to chugging for the finish. He actually likes the taste of beer, and usually isn't trying to get drunk.

24) What they wish they could change about themselves?

Mulcahy wishes he was a better orator, the kind that really puts the butts in the pews and has them all feeling God's words deep in their hearts. For clarification on this, he isn't a terrible speaker, but his sermons are loaded with dad Father jokes and thinly valed stories of people he knows.

In general, Mulcahy just wants to be better. To do better. He's chasing the approval of others, because he doesn't really approve of himself. Self validation isn't his thing.

25) What other people wish they could change about them?

The people who know and love Mulcahy, wish he could see himself as they see him (goes for most of the fandom as well, I think). But at the same time, his humility is part of what makes him, him, so maybe they just wish he wouldn't beat himself up so much.

People who don't like him or at least don't particularly care about him (Frank, some higher ranking members of the military, couple church officials from his home parish, etc) they would want him to be a bit more "fire and brimstone", and to have a bit more military sense. They want him to be more traditional and fundamentalist in his views. And they'd also like him to stop with the Bible puns. But they don't matter, because they don't like him anyway.

I feel like I've missed some small but still very vital details, but that's the trouble with headcanons; I could go on and on.

[doc-pickles]

sent to save me | sidney crosby (ch 7)

series masterlist

summary: vivie’s birthday party!

warnings: a little angst hehehe

notes: have fuuuuun!

xoxo

nina

“Mr. Sid! You’re here!”

Sid has barely walked through the door of Annie’s house before Vivie was in front of him. A braid twisted with pink ribbon adorns her golden curls, matching the pale pink dress that has glitter and flowers all over it.

“I am, couldn’t miss your party,” Sid grinned as Vivie hugged his legs. “I even wore my nicest shirt.”

Vivie examines the dark blue button down before nodding and dragging Sid further into the house. Geno and Anna are already standing in the kitchen, talking with another set of parents who are holding an infant not much bigger than Eva. There’s some more parents mixed in with the kids that are running around their feet and Sidney suddenly feels very out of place.

“Hey stranger,” Annie’s voice is a welcome reprieve as Sidney turns to her, his breath catching in his throat. She’s dressed in a simple light blue and white dress that flows around her calves, her wild blonde curls pulled away from her face with a ribbon. “Welcome to the fun zone.”

“It’s definitely something,” Sid chuckles as he surveys the room. “I feel out of place, everyone seems so… In their element surrounded by kids.”

Annie places one hand on his arm and rolls her eyes, “You’ll fit in fine. Don’t be a wuss, Crosby.”

Sid laughs at the annoyed expression on Annie’s face, the sound alerting Geno to his best friend's presence. He wanders over, Eva cuddled up on his shoulder, and greets Sid and Annie.

“Sid you take Eva, have to wrangle Niki before he start jumping off couches,” Geno doesn’t give Sid a chance to respond before handing Eva over and walking off.

To his credit Sidney easily takes the infant, Eva only fussing for a moment before she settles into the cradle of his arms. Annie watches him intently, noting how he’s begun to sway slowly as he whispers to Eva.

“Hey sweet girl, sorry daddy dropped you with Uncle Sid,” Sid smiles and runs a finger down the baby’s chubby cheek. “S’okay. You’re much calmer than your brother was, he would’ve been screaming by now.”

“I don’t think Vivie was ever that small,” Annie whispers as she peeks over Sid’s shoulder. “She’s so precious with those cheeks.”

“Did Vivie have chubby cheeks like that?” Sid sways slowly as he keeps his eyes trained on Eva. “My mom said I did until I was a toddler but I think Viv is too old to be able to tell now.”

The comment rips a hole in the middle of their conversation, the words bringing up the ugly realities of their situation. Annie takes a step back and Sidney immediately tries to stop her from leaving.

“Annie I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine Sid. You two are very cute, you’re a natural,” Annie comments, voice thick as she presses a hand to her chest. “I have to- I’m sorry. I need to go.”

Annie rushes from the room without another word, leaving Sid standing dumbfounded as he looks at her retreating form. A hand settles on his arm and Anna is standing there with a sad smile, “Give me baby. You go chase after your girl.”

Eva is carefully handed from Sid to Anna before he follows after Annie with a quick thanks thrown behind him.

+

“Look at you,” Sid turns and grins at Annie as she sidles up next to him. Her hand falls to his arm as she peeks over his shoulder. “He’s beautiful, looks like Kris.”

Sidney’s house was crawling with Penguins players and their families celebrating the holiday season. Sid held Alex Letang, Kris and Catherine’s newborn, as everyone else milled about. The infant had finally fallen asleep in his arms and he didn’t want to disturb him.

“I’m thinking we can have a few of these,” Sid muses as he looks at Annie with a sly grin. “A boy first. With your blonde curls.”

Annie blushes and leans her head onto Sid’s shoulder, “How about a little girl with your eyes?”

“One of each,” Sid turns slightly to press a kiss to Annie’s hair. “I can’t wait to have a family with you.”

“Someday.”

“Someday”

+

Annie is standing in the backyard, hands braced on the top of a wooden picnic table as her shoulders shake. Sid quietly closes the slider behind him, standing and watching Annie for a moment.

“Annie,” Sid’s single word has Annie whirling around, tears streaking her cheeks. There's no words exchanged between them as they meet each other's eyes. Sidney slowly makes his way across the deck and Annie finally speaks when he’s standing right in front of her.

“I… I had dreams for years of a white picket fence and kids and a dog,” Annie sniffles, looking away from him. “I had everything planned out, how we’d buy a big house in Sewickley and what color our mailbox would be and our wedding that wouldn’t be huge but would still be a blast. All of it Sid…”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about Vivie,” Sid’s tone isn’t accusing or venomous as his fingers brush over her bare shoulder. “We could’ve had all of that.”

“Because you made me feel alone Sid,” Annie huffs out the words, still facing away from him. “You made me feel like I didn’t have a partner and that… I would be raising our baby alone. And I thought that maybe it would be easier to truly do it alone instead of you only being there when it was convenient for you.”

“Annie-“

“And I left. I knew I was pregnant and I left and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Annie sobs. “I don’t have regrets Sid, I never have. But seeing you with Eva… It broke something in me. And I'm sorry I can’t give you back that time with Vivie. I wish things had gone differently but when I left Pittsburgh I felt like I had no one and coming back wasn’t an option.”

“You could’ve come back, you could’ve had me, Annie,” Sid pleads as he steps in closer to her.

“But that’s why I left! I didn’t feel like I had you when you were still there,” Annie cries as she turns and meets Sidney’s eyes. “I was so alone while we were still sharing a bed. Did you know Vivie was conceived the only time we slept together in two months?”

Sid doesn’t have a rebuttal as he stares at Annie with a blank expression. His heart is racing as they stand chest to chest, mind spinning as he takes in everything she’s saying.

“I wanted you to be there so badly Sidney, I really did,” Annie sniffles, her voice gone rigid and emotionless. “But you weren’t and I didn’t want Vivie to feel like that too. So I left.”

And there, Sid thinks, is the truth of everything that had happened between them. Annie needed him and he wasn’t there. And she didn’t trust him to be there for their daughter either.

Annie heaves a sigh and closes her eyes, chest shaking with the weight of the tears she’s holding back. When she opens them again she meets Sid’s eyes and cups his chin.

“I don’t have regrets but I wish you were there for me. I wish things could’ve turned out differently. Maybe we were just in the right place at the wrong time,” Annie sighs before she walks away toward the house.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there,” Sid says, stopping Annie in her tracks. “I was… so wrapped up in myself that hurt everyone around me, including you. But I promise I’ll be there for you and for Vivienne. And if I have to spend the rest of my life proving that to you then I will.”

Annie doesn’t respond, just stands there for a moment before finally going back inside. Once the slider is closed Sid falls onto the seat of the picnic bench, head in his hands as he evens out his breathing.

+

“Happy birthday dear Vivie! Happy birthday to you!”

A loud cheer echoes as Vivie blows out the candles on her cake. Sid is positioned toward the back of the crowd but he can still see Vivie’s wide smile as Annie kisses her cheek.

“You still have chance,” Anna’s voice jolts him out of his thoughts as he turns towards her. “She love you, can see in her eyes.”

“Doesn’t matter if she doesn’t trust me,” Sid shrugs, not wanting to give himself false hope. “I wasn’t there when she needed me.”

“Then be there now. Be there for Annie and Vivie,” Anya settles a hand on Sid’s shoulder and squeezes the spot. “You have second chance, don’t blow it.”

Sid watches as Vivie swipes some frosting on Annie’s face, both of them laughing together. He wants this more than anything, to use his second chance to be a real family together.

Sid loves Annie and he loves Vivie and he doesn’t want to be apart from them ever again. And if it takes him the rest of his life to show Annie what the two of them mean to him then he’ll do it.

+

Later that night Vivie is worn out as she climbs into bed and lets out a yawn. Annie smirks at the little girl as she brushes her curls back and presses a kiss to her forehead, “Did you have a good birthday?”

“Yes mama,” Vivie snuggles into her side. “And I made such a good birthday wish.”

“Did you wish for unicorns to live in the backyard?”

“No mommy that’s silly,” Vivie giggles as she swipes at her eyes, holding back a yawn. “‘m not supposed to tell you my wish or it won’t come true.”

Bringing the comforter up to under Vivie’s chin Annie smiles wistfully at her daughter. She’s half asleep now, her peaceful face reminding Annie so much of Sidney.

“I wished for my daddy to come home, so I can have one like everyone else,” Vivie mumbles the last part as she snuggles down into her pillow. “Night mama.”

“Goodnight sweet girl,” Annie whispers, choking back tears. It’s not until she’s in her bedroom that she lets her tears fall, wrapping herself in her blankets and crying until sleep overtakes her.

[creepyyanderegirl]

Can you please do Yandere! Stu x shy! Innocent! Reader? The reader is an artist who has a secret love of slasher movies, true crime, and all things spooky. The reader is friends with Sidney so she met stu a couple of times but the reader brushed him off. Soon after Stu became obsessed and decides to kidnap the reader in the Ghostface outfit.

Sidney and I were at my house.

Watching a scary movie. Since we both love horror.

When all of a sudden the phone rang. I answered the phone. A raspy voice on the other end.

"Hi."

"Hello Y/n."

"Who is this?"

"Who do you want it to be?"

"I don't know. Still doesn't answer. Who are you?"

"The person inside your house."

My eyes were wide open. Nothing but fear on my face.

Sidney looked at me.

"Y/n what's wrong?" Sid asked.

Before I could answer a black shadow came out of my closet. Forcefully bringing her into my closet with him.

A scream from Sidney was all I could hear from my closet.

The shadow creature came out with a bloody knife in his hand. There was a white mask covering his face. With black eyes and black mouth. Like he was screaming.

I screamed and ran. To the front door.

Before I could get outside I was knocked out.

Time skip

I woke up on a bed. I looked around.

Tatums boyfriend,Stu Macher,was on a chair watching me.

"Hey babe." Stu said.

"What the hell? Stu your ghostface?" I asked in fear and shock.

"Yes love. I killed them for us. So we could be together. Forever. Don't worry I won't hurt ya." Stu said.

"Be together? Stu your with Tatum." I said.

"Nope not anymore. She's dead too. I killed her for you. So you could have me all for yourself. Cause baby I'm all yours." Stu said.

Guess I didn't survive our horror movie. Since Stu killed my two best friends.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x9 Save Henry

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 843

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Note: It had been my plan to keep at least 3a thoroughly CS focused in these drabbles, with the POV changing from episode to episode between Killian and Emma (this episode was meant to be a Killian episode), but after watching this episode, the big sister/aunt/godmother in me, who has been around and helped care for babies all my life, absolutely had to step in and have someone give first-time mom Regina a little advice about how to handle a crying newborn. (disclaimer: I’m not a mother, so I’m well aware I can’t possibly know the full extent of what it means to be a parent, and I’m not in any way trying to lecture or Monday morning quarterback anyone about parenting, but I am affectionately known as “the baby whisperer” among my family, so I’ve got to be doing something right, right?)

Regina was at her wits end.  Everyone said parenting a newborn was hard.  Everyone said the lack of sleep would be difficult.

No one told her it would be like this.  She was so tired she felt like she was perpetually walking around in a fog.  She did everything she could for Henry–fed him, changed him, held him, rocked him, even tried singing lullabies to him, but nothing worked.  Nothing stopped the relentless crying.

Finally, desperately clawing for something, anything, that could help her, she’d brought her baby to Dr. Whale, sure that there had to be a physical reason for it all.

But he told her Henry was perfectly healthy (before scaring her to death by mentioning the possibility of genetic issues that she had no (legal) way of determining.)

Clutching at that last straw, she’d decided to call Sidney and have him dig into Henry’s sealed adoption records, and to get a moment of peace to do so, she’d handed her baby off to Mary Margaret.

The last thing she’d expected when she turned back around was to find her baby quiet and peacefully cooing up at the school teacher.

Regina’s heart dropped even lower.  What if it wasn’t a physical or genetic problem? What if it was…

”How did you do that?” she asked, walking over to her erstwhile nemesis.

”Do what?” Mary Margaret asked absently as she smiled and cooed down at Henry.

“Make him stop crying.” 

Mary Margaret shrugged.  “I didn’t do anything. He’s so sweet.”

Now was not the time to analyze the ins and outs of why this miracle had occurred.  Now was simply the time to enjoy it.  Regina took Henry from Mary Margaret.

And he immediately started wailing again.

 “Oh no!  No, no, NO!”

Mary Margaret fluttered her hands looking distressed. “I’m so sorry!  Did I do something?”

A cold, stinging sensation settled deep inside Regina.  It wasn’t anything Snow White did.  It was her.  All her. ”No.  No, you didn’t.  It’s me.”

“Well, that’s just nonsense,” came the no-nonsense voice of Granny Lucas as she breezed onto the scene.  “Here, hand him over.  I’ll show you a thing of two.”

While Regina’s first inclination was to stand to her full height and tell the woman she was fully capable of caring for her own son, she realized she really had nothing more to lose.  She deflated and passed Henry over to Granny.

The older woman took him, smiled down at him, and then placed him up against her chest, her hand gently but firmly holding his head to her with her other hand under his little bottom.  She began to bounce and sway, making little shushing noises.

Henry’s wails faded, and then came to a stop.

“But…how?” Regina asked.

“You don’t raise a daughter and then a granddaughter without picking up a few tricks along the way,” Granny said.  “First off, you’ve gotta relax.  You’re wound as tight as Leroy when I run out of bacon.  Babies…they can feel your tension, so you feel yourself tensing up?  Take a couple deep breaths.  Let ‘em out.  Set him in his crib where he’s safe and step away for a few seconds if you need to.  I’m telling you, it’s the key.  You relax; he’ll relax.”

“So…just breathe?  That’s your solution?” Regina asked, with a sardonic raise of the brow.

“Of course not.  That’s just step one,” Granny said.  “Next, look at how I’m holding him.  Ruby refers to it as the ‘Granny choke hold.’  Don’t look at me like that; I’m not choking your baby!  I’m just holding him tight.  Babies like to feel secure, and they like to nestle on your chest where they can hear your heart.”

“Breathe and hold securely.  Got it,” Regina said, “anything else?”

“Last step,” Granny said, “I like to affectionately call the ‘baby jig’.  Just kind of bounce and sway.  It’s soothing.  Gets tiring after a while, but then usually once you get ‘em calmed down you can generally move to a rocking chair.  You wanna try it?”

Did she?  Well, she quite literally had nothing left to lose.  Regina nodded.

“Good,” Granny said with a nod, “now take that deep breath.  That’s it.  Now let it out.  Feeling relaxed?”

Regina nodded.  Granny nodded again and handed Henry over.  He began to fuss, annoyed at being moved from his comfortable position, but remembering the steps Granny gave her, Regina carefully maneuvered him up onto her chest.

And then a miracle happened.  

Henry not only stopped crying; he actually burrowed into her, sighing contentedly.  A warm rush of maternal love washed over her, and she knew she would do anything for this little boy.

Parenting may be the hardest thing she’d ever done, but they would be okay.  They were a family.

Note: I learned how to hold babies from watching my own grandmother who liked to walk around holding babies exactly as Granny does here.  We always used to jokingly call it the “grandma choke hold”, but never fear.  Like Granny said, there is no choking involved.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[elenam]

billy loomis x stu macher with y/n as a wholesome family headconon:

summary: cute, fluff, wholesome, adorable, two killers having a soft spot for a cute baby/toddler/child/teen y/n but they're mean to other people, billy and stu aren't killers on this and they are friends with sidney prescott, tatum riley and others.

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billy would be that type of dad who's overprotective, caring, a little bit strict and autoritive while stu would be that type of dad who's goofy, funny, sweet as well as caring and tiny bit strict as well as billy. but in the end, they show their soft side only to you since you're cute, innocent and impossible to resist our own cuteness.

even if you're a baby, toddler, child, teen or even an adult, you are still billy and stu's little girl/boy. of course if you're 20, 50 or even 90 years old, you're still your daddies' little girl/boy, deep down billy and stu can't accept the fact you're growing up to be a beautiful or handsome girl/boy.

stu would be that type of parent who would play princess with you. dressing up as a princess from disney, eating a lot of sweetness and candy, watching movies like snow white, lion king and other kid movies. he doesn't care if people would critize him, he wants to make you happy and having your beautiful and innocent smile across the face.

and dear billy, he would do the same thing as stu did but when it's just you and him at the house since he can't allow anyone seeing his soft spot for his daughter/son. but whenever they are spending time together with you as a family they would make sure that you're happy and having a good time but when it's a raining day, you and your parents would stay at home and watching movies while eating popcorn.

when you're starting to have your puberty, billy and stu would probably call sidney or tatum about starting your period if you're a girl and probably giving you an awkard sex eductation and you would be blushing so hard and telling your parents to stop talking about that since you don't want to hear anything about it.

stu would be the chilling and happiest dad while billy would be an overprotective and observant father when you decided to bring a boy or a girl into the house as your partner. even if you're gay, bisexual and being apart of the lgbt, your dads will still love you for whatever you are and if you're happy, even if you're straight, billy and stu still love you. when billy is alone with your partner, he threatens him or her, he is an overprotective parent from the moment you were born and he doesn't want to see you hurt or heartbroken.

let's just say your partner shallowed his/her saliva before nodding his or her head, meaning your partner perfectly understood billy's message. stu couldn't wait to see you married and having children as well as billy, if you don't want to get married or having children, billy and stu would understand your choices but if your partner doesn't accept your choices, most likely billy would teach him or her a lesson about respecting you, nobody messes with stu and billy's daughter and gets away with it.

throughtout your life while being stu macher and billy loomis's daughter, they raised you right without showing you violence, sexual stuff, they're not abusive and neglecting you, sometimes you would argue about some things but in the end, you would apoligize to each other and spending time together.

in all of the families around the globe, everyone makes mistakes because nobody is perfect. some people try to change while a few people don't change at all, but billy and stu all want to do is protect y/n from all the horrible things around the world, they will do everything for y/n even letting the world burn for her.

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(this is my first headconon of billy and stu, i made another headconon but it's not about billy and stu, i will try to post stories with billy loomis x stu macher and y/n whenever i can. if you want to watch the other headconon, i will post a question about it and if you want to see it or not, then i will post if you say yes.)

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thanks for reading and watching this :) <3

[final-girl96]

Killer Geek Chapter four

The Next Day

Everything was going great; I didn't run into Parker first thing in the morning like I thought I was going to. It was lunchtime now and I was putting my stuff in my locker before I went outside to the fountain to meet up with Sid, Tatum, Randy, Stu, and my brother. That is usually where we hung out during lunch and sometimes after school. It was right in the center of town, directly across from the school. Everyone comes out here to just sit during lunch or free time.

Principal Himbry could be heard on the loudspeakers that were set up outside, about the upcoming winter formal and other nonsense I didn't care to listen to. I was so lost in my head that I didn't hear the footsteps rushing towards me. I didn't notice anyone until I was being lifted off my feet and thrown over someone's shoulder. “What the fuck! Stu, put me down!”

“We've been waiting for your slow ass forever!” He laughed, running towards the fountain. When I was put down, I was put on someone's lap. “There ya go Meeks, I believe that belongs to you.” I looked at Randy and frantically apologized. “I'm so sorry! Stu's a fucking idiot.” I climbed off his lap and stood in front of everyone. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks so I ducked my head and looked at my shoes. “You're good…feel free to use me as a chair whenever you want.” I felt my face flush and quickly averted my eyes away from him. “Watch it, Meeks,” Billy said, pinning him with a glare. Randy held up his hands and winked at me.

The rest of the time went by as usual; we talked and joked while we ate lunch until the bell rang for class. On the way back Randy walked beside me. Back in the school we stood at the lockers grabbing our books for the next few classes. Randy was leaning against the one right beside mine a few lockers down from Sidney and Tatum's lockers. “Can I ask you something?” I looked over at Randy, eyebrows pushed forward in question. “Sure…what's up?” I asked.

He cleared his throat, looked around us, and back at me. “Would you want to maybe go…” Before he could finish his question he was cut off by my name being called by a voice I was praying I wouldn't hear today. Dread filled me and I let out a deep sigh. Parker came up to us, pushing his way between me and Randy. “Hey, baby, there you are. Look, I wanted to apologize for last night. I was a little tipsy due to drinking before we even got to the party. How about you let me take you out tonight, hmm?” His hand came up and brushed a piece of hair out of my face and I stepped back.

“I have work after school and I close tonight,” was my response. It was true; I did have to work tonight and I do have to close. I work at the theater in town. The Woodsboro Theater was one of the oldest theaters around. It used to be a performance theater before being turned into a movie theater in the early fifties. On weekends we would play classics, black and white movies along with new movies. But tonight we will be playing Mallrats and The Hallowing New Moon Rising tonight and tomorrow night. Friday there would be a few new movies coming out.

“Well, then tomorrow,” he said, smiling. “I work the rest of the week and this weekend. Even if I wasn't working I would say no,” I told him. The smile dropped, he straightened, and stepped closer to me. “I will make you mine one way or another,” he hissed at me, low enough for only me to hear him. “Do we have a problem?” Parker looked behind me, a smile curving the corners of his mouth up. “Nope, just letting yn know that I'll be picking her up from work tonight.”

“Yeah, that's not necessary. I'll be dropping her off and Meeks will be picking her up since he gets off at the same time she does and is just down the road,” Billy told him. Randy had moved around Parker and came to stand on the other side of me. When I looked behind me I saw Tatum and Sid standing a couple feet behind Stu, who was right behind me next to Billy. “Fine. That's fine. I'll just see you later princess.” I crinkle my nose at his pet name, fighting the urge to not shudder from the way it makes my skin itch. “Meeks, you'll be picking my sister up tonight so don't be late!” Billy said, pointing a finger in Randy's face. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

Billy and Stu turned around towards Sid and Tatum and started down the hall to their classes. “I'll be waiting by the car after our last class! Don't make me fuckin’ wait!” Billy called over his shoulder. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head and muttering whatever. “Thanks for picking me tonight. You don't have to,” I said to Randy. We had the next two classes together so we walked together. “It's not a problem. Really. In fact if you'd like, I'll take you to work and take you home from now on so you don't have to worry about Parker.”

“That's very kind of you, Randy, but really you don't have to…” He cut me off by stepping in front of me. “It really isn't a problem, yn. Before the meathead interrupted me, I was going to see if you wanted to go out sometime. There's this new restaurant opening in the town over. We could go to dinner mayne go to that new theater at the mall.” A finger came to rest under my chin and he lifted my head up to look at him. “What do you say? Will you go on a date with me?” I looked at him and nodded my head. “Yeah, okay, that could be fun.”

After my last class I went to my locker, put my books away, only grabbing what I needed, and headed outside to the parking lot where Billy was indeed waiting. I got I'm the back seat of his camaro, letting Sidney take the front. “What time do you get off tonight?” Billy asked, pulling out of the school's parking area and onto the street. “Um…At ten. But I close tonight so after the last customer leaves I'll have to stay behind to help clean up and all that. So it won't be until closer to eleven-thirty, maybe tweleve that I get out of there. I already let Randy know.”

I took my shirt off, leaving me in a tank-top, and pulled my work shirt on, ticking it into my jeans. “Well, I told Meeks to make sure he brings you straight the fuck home. No nasty shit better happens or he's dead.” He looked at me I'm the rearview mirror laughing at the blush that covered my cheeks. “Billy, be nice,” Sidney told him. “Also, that prick, Parker, shows up and won't leave you alone, calls Sid's house or Stu if you can't get ahold of me.” I nodded my head, gathering my bag as he pulled up in front of the theater. Sidney opened her door, stepping out, and letting me get out of the back seat.

[bitter69uk]

Recently watched: made-for-TV movie Death at Love House, originally broadcast on ABC 3 September 1976. Joel and Donna Gregory (Robert Wagner and Kate Jackson) are a husband-and-wife writing duo collaborating on a biography of the doomed Hollywood star Lorna Love, who died tragically young in 1935. (Coincidentally, Joel’s artist father had an impassioned affair with Lorna and painted a portrait of her). And for reasons never fully explained, the couple move into Love’s totally intact Hollywood mansion to research their book (Love House was shot on location at the former estate of silent movie star Harold Lloyd). Creepily, Lorna’s perfectly preserved, eternally youthful corpse is on permanent display – Snow White-style - in a shrine on the premises. Strange occurrences immediately start happening. Who is the ethereal “woman-in-white” Donna glimpses in the garden? Why are there macabre occult symbols everywhere? Who was Father Eternal Fire, Lorna’s satanic looking “spiritual advisor”? Obviously, almost anything produced by Aaron Spelling is bound to be campy fun. With its emphasis on occultism and lurid showbiz tragedies (Lorna is clearly inspired by Jean Harlow), Love House suggests a page torn from Kenneth Anger’s Hollywood Babylon. It will also remind you of other, superior movies: Sunset Boulevard (1950), The Legend of Lylah Clare (1968), Fedora (1978). And like 1944 film noir Laura, characters spend a lot of time staring, mesmerized, by an oil painting of a dead woman. For verisimilitude, supporting parts are played by actual classic Hollywood veterans like Sylvia Sidney, Joan Blondell, Dorothy Lamour and John Carradine. (The Gregorys’ literary agent is played by Bill Macy - Walter from Maude!). Less happily, zero effort is taken to make Lorna 1930s “period appropriate”. (She’s seen in flashbacks portrayed by Marianna Hill - cult movie fans will recognize her from The Baby and Messiah of Evil – with a feathered blow-dried 70s coiffure). And the ending is worthy of an old episode of Scooby-Doo! Smudged, murky prints of Love House are easy to find on YouTube.