#Rocky Road Video Song

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 24

Prompt: Toys Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x fem!reader   WC: 4.2k Summary: Your ex was jealous trash. Both you and Chan know it, Chan just didn’t know the extent of it. Now he has something to prove.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Chan or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

Additional TW/CW below the cut.

CW/TW: Honestly, pretty vanilla. Pet names used include “babygirl” “princess” and “good girl”. There’s a lot of banter and checking in with consent! Vibrator is used. Chan has a big dick. Reader has femme sex organs.

 “I’m sorry-WHAT?” Chan practically yelped, head coming forward and eyes bulging.   “Guys are just like that Channie. As soon as I suggest a vib-”   “No stop pause, I heard you.” He laughs and rocks back into the couch. “Like you know me, I’m insecure but that's…it’s another level.”

 Your cheeks burn. He was right. The entire argument had been childish and should’ve been a red flag. “Well now I’m embarrassed…” you mutter and focus on your drink.

 How had you even gotten here? How had the topic drifted so far from how are you doing to who are you doing and how are you doing them? One vague joke about Chan’s computer habits? Tonight was one of the rare nights Chan did not have his eyes glued to his Macbook, his modern day grindstone - opting to replace the mouse with a bottle of light beer (“it's what athletes drink if they are going to have alcohol”) and the small screen with human company. Your company.

 The process of getting Chan to drop his work for one night was exhausting. He’d been your best friend for a couple years now, ever since meeting late night in the audio lab in college where he’d been similarly glued to the iMacs until the teaching aid kicked the two of you out. One last edit, one more pass, toggling the mute and unmute of the track feverishly asking “1 or 2” like you were at an eye exam. These were the building blocks of your relationship. It wasn’t until a particularly unseasonably warm night during spring break when you finally saw him step out into the world to eat and drink with the common folk. It was that night, drinking tallboys on the campus quad at 4am, that you’d solidified your friendship.

 And still, the topic of sex was never something either of you had brought up.

 There were too many other topics. Video games, anime, and of course music. Hours and hours of trading songs back and forth, studying eachother's reactions intently. watching his face light up in surprise and brow furrow into an intense scour were some of the few times you felt uninhibited joy. It was a cute habit he had, looking utterly disgusted when he was deeply into a song. Chan valued most of all your enthusiasm and positivity. Even if a song wasn’t your style, you’d highlight the aspects that you liked with vigor. Childlike exuberance, it’s what he liked most about your reactions. Sharing songs was like sharing your souls.  So how had you managed to veer into this new unbroached territory?  It wasn’t like you’d never joked about sex. Anyone could tell you though, joking and talking about sex are two very different things. In the process of all of your soul spilling, confessing deep seeded feelings of inescapable loneliness, pondering the crushing finality of the third death (when the world says your name for the last time), and of course the underrated pleasure of a bimbo bop, you’d never really talked about sex. Chan fucked. You assumed as much. You fucked so why wouldn’t he. Chan had even been there for the first moving out breakup you’d ever had to go through. It’s how you ended up as neighbors.  The rocky road started with Chan’s offhanded joke about you being easy to please. It was a frequent flier of jokes that he’d rattle off during friendly banter. Normally an eye roller but tonight you took issue.  “Tell that to my ex,” you took a swig of cider with a grimace. “...or don’t. He doesn’t need another reason to feel inadequate.”  “Inadequate? Bro was like almost 190cm!” Chan laughed.  “Yeah, 190cm and humbled by the suggestion of clitoral stimulation.” You said in a deadpan, staring straight forward. Chan nearly projected his beer straight out onto the coffee table in front of him. “What part of that was so funny? Clitoral?”  Chan sticks out his tongue. “Not funny just…is that why you two broke up?”  You swig and sigh. The details were still fresh in your memory, your last boyfriend. “No. But yes. But no. His inability to make friends with my vibrator was one of MANY issue indicating-”

 The rest of the scene played in slow motion for you, his yelp, his laugh. Your cheeks burning as he shook his head back and forth, eyebrow cocked incredulously.

 “I’m not like that.” Chin tilted down he looks up at you from under his eyebrows. “Aren’t I a guy?”  “All the guys I know are like that, competitive. The viber- it’s, it’s competition.”  “Aren’t I a guy?” He repeats again. “Aren’t I competitive?”

 In the years you’ve known him, the air has never been this tense. You’ve fought but this didn’t feel like fighting. Chan continues to stare at you, waiting for your answer. You gulp.

 “Yes, you are a guy. Yes, you are competitive. Happy? Pleased?”

 He smirks and takes another gulp of beer and swallows hard, pretty enough to be a commercial. It made you nervous. You took another sip of cider in silence.   “Sex is a team sport anyway. Gotta know your real competition.” Chan states out of nowhere with a wink.   You choke on the cider halfway down your throat. Both lungs and cheeks burning you turn to him glaring, “okay Chris. Any other tips for my sex life?”  Chan shrugs. Truthfully he never liked your ex. You’d wanted the two of them to get along so badly, you arranged activities for them that you thought they’d bond over and somehow each time it would end in an argument or as your ex would say “it’s just a conversation, babe. We’re having a dialogue. Man to man.”   Chan hated the way your ex called you babe. He’d mocked him for weeks after your break up just to see a hint of a smile from behind the clouds of anxiety. He hated how your ex would ignore you, leaving your texts unread and unanswered all night. Most of all Chan hated your excuses for him, the list long and winding.   Your patience wears thin waiting for his response and you snap, “how’s your sex life then? Prosperous I hope.”

You didn’t hope.

 He takes a measured pause, another swig, and answers, “I tried like…video call sex?” He fumbles for a term he’s forgotten and is unfamiliar with. “I just kept staring at my own dick like ‘what am I doing? This is so inefficient.’ You know?”   You can’t help but laugh, “unfortunately I do.” A very Chan thought, weighing the efficiencies of phone sex.   “See that’s why tools in the bedroom are friends. Efficiency.” Chan stumbles, visibly seesawing between curiosity and decorum. “So he really never got you off?”   “No. yeah. No.” You look anywhere else. “It’s why i prefer…efficiency.” The word efficiency slips from your lips heavily, laden with new meaning. Both of you pause and take swigs of your respective drinks.   “Bet I could,” Chan says easily, with a shrug of his shoulders.   “Sure,” you shrug back.

At first the words don’t register, what you’ve bet exactly doesn’t hit you.  “Okay, so bedroom?” He stands up, placing the empty bottle on your table. He’s so matter of fact it doesn’t hit you.   “Bedroom?” You look up at him quizzically.   “Or anywhere, if you have something specific in mind.” You tilt your head and squint your eyes further. Chan mimics you, eyes twinkling with glee. “You’ll want towels regardless.”

Oh.

OH.

He bet he could make you cum. Butterflies fill your stomach.

 “Chris, you don’t have to- listen no one has really been able to as well as me myself and my trusty vibrator Even then, no towels necessary just wham bam thank you ma’am.” Your tongue and mind are in two different places, mouth working to dissuade him and brain screaming in need.  The mischievous expression from his eyes migrates to his lips,  “is that a yes?”

 “Chan, it's a losing game. I’ve been doing this for-”

 “Where’s your spirit of competition?” he laughs and braces himself. “It’s a friendly wager. Worst thing that happens is you don’t cum and I buy you something top shelf.” Your hesitation is visibly killing him, as much as he tries to stay cool, calm, and collected. His leg jostles with anxiety. “It really sounds like a win win for you. Unless you don’t-”  “You won’t let this change our friendship right? You can do it and not let that happen?” You purse your lips and exhale, “...promise-”

 Chan launches himself at you like an over excited puppy, “yes anything, whatever you want!”

 Much like you, your bedroom is not exactly ready for this turn to the night. Chan leans on the doorway as you hastily shove the dirty clothes spilling over the edge of your hamper back under the lid. Your night stand is cluttered with skincare and two vibrators charging in the conspicuously cracked open drawer.

 “Don’t say SHIT Chan, “ you whip around, still hunched over with clothes in your fists. “I didn’t think I’d have anyone in here for a while.”   He rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a sigh, you can tell he wants to make a joke and is barely holding it in him. Instead he sits on the edge of your queen sized bed, watching you toss clothes from the top of your dresser into the basket and closet according to their relative states of wear.   “This won’t count against my time, right?” He tries to joke, you narrow your eyes. “Sheesh. Just get on the bed, okay? You won’t cum if you’re too stressed.”   “You’re not going to be able to ANYWAY Chan,” you continue to attempt to neaten your room.   “Yeah if you keep cleaning, yeah, I won't. Now get comfy on the bed please!” Chan enthusiastically smacks the mattress.   You cock your eyebrow, “make me.”   Chan sighs, it’s a simple pair of words, “make me”, and yet they burrow into him. He nods his head and approaches you putting your hips on his shoulder and hoisting you over his back, smacking your ass before setting you down on the bed.   “You done being a brat?”   You look a little dazed but you stick your tongue out at him. He sighs and goes to your bedside table, grabbing your vibrating wand left charging half out of the drawer.   “Chan. CHAN. CHRISTOPHER. That’s CHEATING.” You let him guide your legs outwards, knees pointed up.   “Wahhh, it’s been a second since you used my full christian name. ‘S’not cheating, it’s a partnership.” You wail for comic effect. He smiles a small, crooked half smile, “so, you normally get off with all your clothes on?”

 “Well, actually, yes?” You shrug, “it’s not much mess anyway so…”  “I was hoping to see your pretty cunt but we can start here,” he says, settling into the space between your thighs. Your stomach swooping again. He’d said cunt in front of you before, many times, it wasn’t a shocking word between you. Yet the addition of your…the familiar click of the vibrator interrupts the train of thought. “I’ll admit its easier when i can see the damn thing but-”  It doesn’t take much to have your hips winding. Maybe it's the familiar tool being held in an unexpected hand but the vibration feels more intense the second it sits on your mound. You barely manage to catch a burgeoning moan in your chest. Chan scoots closer on the bed, deepening the pressure on your wand.  “Can I touch you?” His voice is hoarse.  “Over. Yes.”  He nods as he leans over you, a strong hand pushing the edge of your bra down in your shirt, letting just the obviously hardened bud slip free. The rough callous of his thumb catches on the cotton threads of your shirt as he rubs over the tender bump. For you, most of the time you just used your vibrator without thinking too much about anything else. Getting off was no frills, all business. Letting him fondle you even over your clothes like horny teens elevated the entire experience.  “Howzzat feel?” He grins smugly as you bite the inside of your lower lip. Your eyes flick backwards for a second, momentarily losing the veneer of respectability you clung to so desperately. “I want you to tell me. I need you to tell me.”  You collect yourself as much as you can. “Feels real good, okay Chris? Real fucking good.”  “What’s your fastest time?” Chan starts pressing the vibrator harder against you before pulling back. It’s a subtle increase and decrease in pressure but enough to get your toes twitching.  “God-fuck-Chris- I don’t fucking- I don’t know.” Your breathing staggers. This cocky bastard is really going to make you cum that easily. Shoulder blades drawing down, back arching away from the bed, your vision swims for a second before you calm yourself by sheer force of will.  “So stubborn, babygirl!” He cackles. “You don’t wanna let me win this? It’ll feel so good if you just let yourself go. Either way you win, it’s a win-win. Just cum, it’ll feel so good. I promise.”  The spring winds again, the promise of pleasure at the other end of the snap. Your chest rises, he gives a small pinch to your taut nipple. A frankly embarrassingly needy whine hums in your nose.  “God I wanna be in you so bad right now.”  Chan’s earnest confession sends you over the edge. Your legs go numb as your eyeballs roll back in your skull, defense crashing down as the stretched spring snaps back. Wall clenching around nothing you can feel wetness bloom in your underwear. “Sssshhit,” you hiss, twitching with aftershocks as you try to catch your breath. You try to hide how your stomach tenses with every exhale.  “I was better, right?” He’s smug, you can hear it in the sing-song lilt of his voice. It’s difficult to face him fully with your post orgasm clarity beginning to hit. Peaking through one half cracked eyelid, he’s sitting back on his heels, bulge prominent in his pants. Even with your limited vision it’s hard to miss the throbbing mass.  “Different.” Your protracted answer betrays you, unable to trust yourself to keep your tone even and calm. The bed shifts below you. Chan is so close, leaning over you, a whisper away.  Mouth just to the side of yours, hovering, just within the turn of your head. “Wanna bet? I bet you’re fucking soaked right now.”  Kiss me. Touch me. Kiss now. Touch me please. Kiss, touch, fuck, kiss, kiss, kiss, kisskisskisskiss. Your brain is chanting out of your skull, body heating up from the microscopic excited vibrations you’re trying your best to hold deep in your core. “Ha,” you more bleat than laugh. Very uncool. Wheezy airy wanting air escaping from your lungs rather than the even keel chuckle of someone who totally didn’t want to their best friend to fuck their brains out.  Chan’s hand, long having dropped the vibrator, grazes your waistband. “You can tell me to stop if you want me to. But I bet you don’t want me to.” Your breath hitches as they catch and slide over the slick fabric of your underwear. His fingers are more precise than the wand and the already sensitive area is swollen. The sticky remnants of your orgasm cling as he too casually runs a finger along your slit.  You hold your breath and curl your toes.  “Do you want me to?” Chan smirks down at you.  You shake your head no.  “Is that a ‘no, keep going’ or a ‘no, please stop?’”  Deep breath in. “Keep going.”  He smiles, increasing the pressure he’s using to rub your clit with. “Good girl,” he whispers, chest practically touching yours. You can feel the corners of his mouth twitch upwards as you try to hide your gasp of delight. Laughing, he kisses your cheek. “I knew you’d have a praise kink.”  “You’re so fucking cocky.”  Chan shuffles himself off of you. “I’m confident in what I’m confident in,” he shrugs before tugging your pants down over your hips.. “Now babygirl, show me that cute cunt of yours.”  Chan is stupidly strong as he yanks your legs free. The slight rise and fall of your chests less from strain and more from anticipation. Something neither of you had really dared to entertain falling so easily into place.  “Let me see yours first,” you blurt as heat flashes through you.  Brow knitting and shaking his head in confusion, Chan shrugs, “fair enough.”  You’re going to see it. After all these years you’re going to finally see his dick. It’ll be right there, confronting you. You think about all the things you know about your best friend, the blue veins that peak up his vline, his big feet, the foreboding lump in his pants. He’s not a tall guy but that doesn’t mean much in your estimation of him. Black jeans, black underwear hugging his thighs. You take a deep breath, blinking, turning more and more into squeezing your eyes shut.  “Take off your shirt.” Your voice sounds pinched and you’re barely peeking out from between your eyelashes.  Chan isn’t one to flinch at the request, shucking his top in a flash. “I thought you wanted me to go first.”  “I do! I do. I just can’t help but think that everything is going to change after this. Like, we can’t go back from this. And I get scared.”  “I’ll still love you regardless. And if you wanna stop or nah-”  “You’re such a sentimental bastard. Take your cock out, I’m ready.”  He laughs, eyebrows rocketing towards his hairline, a bemused grin creeping slowly into the corners of his mouth. Thumbs hooked on the waistband of his underwear he pulls it down agonizingly slowly, eyes locked on your face. The way your face shifts between excitement and dread is endearing. Truthfully he wanted to prolong the anticipation just to watch you squirm for him, the butterflies invading your gut and making themselves known adorably.  The band crosses over his pubic bone to territory you’d yet seen, neatly trimmed dark hair surrounding the base of his cock.  You let out a tiny involuntary yelp.  Neatly trimmed. Thick. Without all of it being revealed you can already tell its hefty. Veins throb, crossing over the pulsing muscle. A challenge for sure. The shear weighty bounce of it as the enormity of it is revealed is daunting, enough to make any person feel virginal again.  “I’m confident in what I’m confident in,” Chan repeats, languidly fisting his cock to full mast. It’s too heavy to sit all the way up, instead jutting out from him into the open air. “Now do you want me to fuck you with your underwear on or-” pausing for you to interject before he pulls your hips up onto his thighs. A thousand butterflies burst into flames in your chest watching him kiss your knees as he removes your panties.  “Why are you being so tender with me oh my god!” Flames tickle the sides of your face as you giggle, flustered.  “‘Cuz this is going to sting a bit.”

 Oh fuck is that the understatement of the century. You can feel it from the way he rubs the blunt spongy tip of his cock along your folds. From the briefest of catches on your entrance you stiffen below him. Suddenly you’re less nervous about what he thinks of your pussy and more that he’ll not be able to fit. Lodging himself there at the precipice of heaven, he leans back over, resting himself on his forearms to keep himself from completely covering you.

 “It’ll fit, right?” You ask with a hopeful sniff.

 “Oh babe, I can make it fit, don’t worry about that. Just let me take care of it.” Chan angles his hips and lets his shaft glide over your slit. It’s a bundle of muscle you can’t resist grinding against. His forehead rests against your shoulder, his breath soaking into your shirt as he occasionally presses a chaste kiss to your neck.

 Your breasts practically ache for his touch, having felt it muted through the fabric of that same stupid shirt. With an annoyed grunt you struggle to strip it off at first, caged underneath Chan. Its not until he snakes an arm beneath you and lifts your torso that you free yourself of the barrier. Almost as impressive as his feat of strength is the dexterity with which he unclasps your bra. A pang of jealousy echos in your chest, he’s had practice. As if it should really matter to you, if anything it’s only prepared him for this moment.

 His lips are soft against your skin. Every kiss is a small promise of pleasure and harbinger of anticipation as they draw closer and closer to your hardened nipples. “Please, please, please,” you chant in barely a whisper as your back arches to meet him.

 “You want this, right?” He feigns innocence as his lips wrap around you, sucking for a second. Your hips buck upwards into Chan’s resistance, grinding harder with a groan of relief. A strand of saliva bridges the gap between your breast and his grin. His hips encourage your redoubled efforts as he goes in for another nibble, teeth just barely tickling over your sensitive area.

 Holding tight to his back you try to keep him close as you feel that same growing devouring pit of hungry need consuming your gut. “Don’t stop, please, I’m so fucking close.” It’s not so much dry humping anymore as your sex slides over him, pressure placed perfectly over your clit. “I’ll fucking kill you.” You add for good measure.

 His tongue flicks over your nub, hand finally joining to pinch and kneed the other. Chan keeps his hips as steady as he can as you grow erratic, breathlessly using him to get yourself off again. All a part of his plan.

 When you cum you sink your nails into his flesh, the muscles of his back valiant against them. The pit doesn’t go away, instead a ravenous beast wakes to fill the void. “I need it. I need you right now.” You reach down between your thighs to wedge him against your entrance again. “Chris please, please.” It’s difficult to bring yourself to say it, even now nearly blacking out with lust. “God please make it fit.”

 Grabbing a pillow to pull your hips up on, Chan starts to nudge forward into you. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. Slowly your walls open to him, pulling him in as the fat tip of his cock breaches the tight ring of muscle. The extra lubrication of your release helps but the stretch itself has you breathing hard into your diaphragm.

 “Chris-Chris- oh fuck- CHAN,” you scramble to hold him tighter as he pulls you apart. Your arms wrap over his shoulders, clinging to your own elbows as you squeeze.

 “You’re almost there, my good girl. Best girl.”

 “Almost?!” You yelp incredulously. “I’m so fucking full! What the fuck. What the fuck.”

 “I can stop-”

 You howl with lust filled rage. “Just shove it in oh my god Chris. Just fuck me. Please god I’m going to die.”

 Your arms bounce as he chuckles at your overdramatics “Your wish is my command, Princess.” Hands holding your hips steady his hips snap against you easily, fullying burying himself. A mighty gasp caves your abdomen, barely whispering curses as you get exactly what you’d asked for. “Hurts right?” He asks sweetly, kissing your cheek. “Let me help.”

 A telltale click.

 Whirring.

 With the white head of the vibrator placed over your clit the pain vanishes immediately. You blink furiously as the thud of your heartbeat sinks into your cunt. In all your years it hadn’t occurred to you to try this. Penetration wasn’t a necessary part of getting off so why would you? “Oh my god.”  Chan smirks.  Your hips move of their own accord, rolling just enough to push and pull him against your walls. “Oh my god it feels so good.”  “Yeah you do babygirl.” Your walls clench around him as your head is thrown back in delicious pleasure. Chan indulges in the easily accessible skin of your chest, kissing slowly between your breasts as he helps bounce you on his cock.  Orgasms roll easily into each other like a pleasant summer breeze warmly surrounding your skin and blending into the universe. It’s hard to tell where one ends and the next begins. Your bodies fit together with ease now, coated in a sheen of comingled fluids. For a moment you feel complete, your mind dulled enough to keep the buzz of thoughts finally silent, relinquishing yourself to waves of pleasure. Chan smiles, looking at your transformed face, slack jawed in open mouthed bliss.  A breath kicks your stomach in as you cum on him again, walls squeezing him desperately. “I’m going to-” he chokes on his words as he fights his own finish. “Wh-” Chan can’t even get the word out before you’re clinging to him again, rutting and fucking him into you. Weaving your fingers up through the hair on the back of his head you tug lightly. The buzz of pain jolts his hips deeply into you, painting your walls deeply with his release. A strangled raspy “shit,” passes his lips before they catch themselves on yours. His cock pulses with refractory releases, your cunt squeezing back in a sympathetic response. Neither of you want to admit you’d really fucked up the friendship.

Sorry the formatting got weird and i’m posting late but uh my other group is having a cb and i’m getting anon hate on main so here we are.

[stars-n-spice]

Bad Batch Food Headcanons:

Was having the meal of champions (soju, galbi, and buldak) and it got me thinking,,

So have this collection of random food headcanons:

Crosshair insists he can handle spicy food but he cannot. He's eating hot cheetos and he's fucking crying

Wrecker had to build up a tolerance for spice - he fucking LOVES spicy food ("It's like an explosion in my mouth!!") but couldn't handle it at first. Now he can handle buldak with half of the spice packet!

Hunter and Tech can handle their spice decently but Echo isn't too fond of spicy foods.

Like Wrecker, Omega built up a tolerance to spice, but also like Crosshair she's sensitive to it and will insist that she can handle her spice

Echo is a picky eater. That's like canon. He doesn't care that he's a grown man, he's ordering mac-n-cheese at the fancy restaurant. Deal with it.

Tech is another picky eater but he thrives off instant stuff like ramen or snacks like chips. Man can plow through a whole Costco-sized bag of tortilla chips in one sitting without realizing it.

Hunter has a stomach of steel, he'll eat anything and everything. It's only a matter of REMEMBERING to fucking eat. He'll stand up, nearly faint, then go, "What the hell?" and it's because he hasn't eaten since fucking yesterday.

No Crosshair, an ice coffee is NOT a suitable breakfast. How many times do we have to tell you? And aren't you fucking lactose intolerant???

Oh they love their dinosaur chicken nuggets though - especially Omega and Wrecker. They'll dunk them in ketchup and create a whole murder crime scene.

Omega LOVES soup. Any and all kinds! I think she'd really enjoy udon or 냉면 the most though. The slurp-ier the better!

I feel like Tech is a curry enjoyer. Indian curry, Thai curry, Japanese curry - he loves it all.

Rip Crosshair you would've loved flavored soju 😔

Rip Wrecker you would've loved Korean BBQ and all you can eat sushi

I don't think Hunter likes cold foods. His teeth are sensitive and they hurt when he eats cold stuff like ice cream (no I'm not projecting)

Crosshair likes mint ice cream. Echo likes rocky road. Wrecker enjoys strawberry or sherbert. Omega likes cookie dough. Tech likes caramel or coffee.

Ice cream is like the only kind of "dessert" that Crosshair likes (despite being lactose intolerant) - he doesn't really have a sweet tooth

WAIT CROSSHAIR WHEN I TELL YOU ABOUT BINGSU!!!

SPAM. SPAM. SPAM. Shut up they WOULD eat spam and idc what people say I fucking LOVE spam. Spam is the love of my life, they could never make me hate spam. I used to write parody love songs about spam as a kid. They would enjoy breakfasts of spam, rice, and eggs.

They'd devour the shit out of Mexican food. Like CMON-

Feel like Omega would like fiedo. And Echo too

Wrecker thinks breakfast burritos are godsend - he absolutely loves papas and chorizo

Y'know what would be funny? Echo being a picky eater yet LOVEING Mole. It's not for everyone (I personally like it) but he thinks it's good

Omega has a boba addiction. She has ro have it every week. Her favorites are Taro, Strawberry Matcha, and Honey Milk Tea

Only Hunter and Wrecker like boba; Echo, Crosshair, and Tech find the texture funny but they enjoy the drinks

I feel like Echo is a big bread eater. My sister reminds me a LOT of Echo and she absolutely ADORES bread (she's also a picky eater) - catch him at 85° or Paris Baguette

Hunter would love Soul Food and he also can work a grill

Rip Echo you would’ve loved soba and you would've loved 맥주

Tech actually secretly (not so secretly) has a sweet tooth - he really likes muffins and pies specifically

Omega and Wrecker record "Food Review" videos together

I have,, so many more ideas and whatnot but I'm leaving it here-

Ugh I just,,, I have so many foods I'd love to introduce them too-

[disdoorted-crows]

i made a list of folk songs the mechs used in their music and now you can have it too

have you ever been listening to a folk playlist and thought, 'hey, i think i've heard this one on a mechs album!'? well, you probably have! the mechs' songs, especially their early stuff like once upon a time in space, often contained tunes from popular folk songs!

disclaimer: i got a lot of this information from either the genius lyrics page for the song or the lyric video from TheVoidSings, who of course has lyric videos for (i believe) all the mechs songs out there. so, shoutout to them for doing the research! i just compiled it. also, this is an incomplete list; it's just all the ones i could find.

the queens court - the deserter

tim goes crazy - battle hymn of the republic

the recruiters song - pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag

gassed last night - bombed last night

the toy soldiers song - over the hills and far away

blood and whiskey - o were I on Parnassus hill

pump shanty - pump shanty

cinders song - haul away joe

rose red - rose red

old king cole - old king cole

laid in blood - fifteen men on a dead man's chest

our boy jack - bella ciao

sleeping beauty - let all mortal flesh keep silence (picardy)

broken horses - skibbereen

sirens - gently johnny

riddle of the sphinx - greensleeves

favoured son - the rocky road to dublin

underworld blues - last kind words blues

ties that bind - blue in green

elysian fields - i am a poor wayfaring stranger

one eyed jacks - the house of the rising sun/when jonny comes marching home

iphis - house carpenter

pellinore and the beast - barbara allen

gunfight at the dolorous guard - my funny valentine

empty trail - when the levee breaks

the hanged man rusts - lannigan's ball

hellfire - dem bones (💀💀💀)

skin and bone - the raggle taggle gypsies

holder of the grail - the rising of the moon

peacemaker - sinnerman

once and future king - the snow it melts the soonest

thor - drowsy maggie

ragnarok I runaway - crazy train

drop dead - matty groves

lost in the cosmos - bonny grovewoodside

chop of their heads - mouse round (mending song)

[missybee-writes]

Shadow in the Dark: Chapter Four - Code Name, Farrah Fawcett

Genre: Sci-fi; Romance; Horror

Warnings: (eventual) sexual content; violence; gore; swearing; alcohol and drug use.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!OC

Summary

In July ‘85, an ambitious realtor sells the crumbling Creel house to a family looking for a new start.

Rose McAllister may be living in a grand and gothic murder house in a small Midwest town, but senior year in high school is the stuff of her nightmares: a last chance at a normal school year without being the odd one out, the sick girl, the weirdo from across the pond. Blend in, make it through the year, and make some friends. Stay unnoticed at all costs.

Hawkins, and one seriously loud-mouthed metalhead, is about to flip that carefully laid plan Upside Down.

Chapter one: Cursed

Chapter two: Munson Magic

Chapter three: Fearless

Ao3 link

---

“Never?” Dustin asked, his muffled squeal cutting through the quiet atmosphere in the study desk buried in the corner of the library, behind the physics and math section. “Not even once, not at all?”

Rose shrank away from the harsh stare of the librarian, whispering over the pages of the book. “Nope. Never heard of him.”

“Al Yankovic,” Dustin said, like he was talking about the President or the bloody Queen. “Weird Al. My Bologna, Another One Rides the Bus....Eat It? Seriously ? I thought you had MTV.”

“Sorry,” Rose said apologetically. “Is he funny?”

Dustin took off his cap and ran his hand through his curly hair; a memory from Monday made her own head tingle in sympathy the near scalping by Eddie, his rings intruding on what might have been a very romantic moment. Focus, McAllister.

“Uh, does a black hole emit Hawking radiation?” Dustin asked, completely confident in his own knowledge on the subject.

“Yes?” Rose bit her lip, trying to recall. “I take chem and biology though, not physics.”

Dustin’s mouth gaped open, braces glistening in the overhead fluorescent lights. He was weirdly charming. Something about him reminded her of Eddie. “Well, you should listen to his songs. His videos are hilarious too. Me and the guys, we laughed so hard when we heard I Love Rocky Road, it’s the best. Lucas pretends he’s too cool for it, but I see him trying to hold back his laughter. He can’t fool me.”

“Dustin,” she asked tentatively, chewing on the end of her pencil. “How did you get into D&D?”

His eyes brightened at her genuine interest and wondered how many people truly got to know the quirky kid, beyond his immediate friendship group. “Will and MIke were huge on it. They were best friends with Lucas since the first year of kindergarten, but I didn’t move to Hawkins until fourth grade. It was kinda hard for me to make friends. Zach was bullying me a lot, and he...” he trailed off, his mouth pressed in a thin line, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. “He, uh, kicked the crap outta me in the boys bathrooms, so I was upset, and Will came up to me and asked me if I wanted to be a magical spellcaster, and kick the ass of an ogre. And it was kind of awesome , and then we became friends.”

“I can’t even imagine the other guys without you,” she said, nudging his shoulder. “You’re like the heart of the group, and the brain too. Possibly the guts and the spine, and the funny bone. You’re all the good bits. But don’t tell them I said that.”

Dustin ducked his head and almost blushed, smiling like a goon. “I don’t know.”

“Well it looks like it to me,” Rose reassured him. 

He scoffed and waved away her compliment, with a weird little squeal that she found incredibly endearing. 

She was surprised to hear Dustin was the newest in the little friendship group. Where he went, Mike usually followed, and whilst Lucas seemed to be torn between Hellfire and basketball, he had an easy familiarity around the other two that spoke of long years of friendship and growing up with an unshakeable bond. Rose was fascinated by the way they understood each other's jokes and communicated without words. Envy burned in the back of her throat, for she saw in the freshmen boys what she had always longed for; someone who had seen you at your very best and worst, and who stood by you anyway.

It might be too late for Rose, but on the bright side, she wasn’t exactly alone, either. Dustin had been so thrilled at the prospect of helping her build a character that she couldn’t refuse his help, particularly when she knew so little about Dungeons and Dragons and the mechanics of the game. He was giving up his Friday lunch to help her.

Beyond that, the Hellfire guys said hello to her in the hallway, and welcomed her to the group. Tuesday and Thursday of this first full week at school had seen her at Hellfire’s lunch table; the first day, she was the complete focus of the lunch hour, much to her embarrassment. They peppered her with questions and stared at her until Eddie had to call them to order, requesting they back off and leave the lady alone. By Thursday, after she spent Wednesday hanging out with Robin, the Hellfire boys seemed to regard her as a permanent fixture, a piece of the furniture when she sat down at the table. Except for the pestering about her character, and harassing Eddie about tonight's campaign, of course. 

And Robin too, she was becoming a friend. She was going through a difficult time, clearly affected by the fire that killed so many people over the summer, finding it difficult to engage with her old friends after being right there during the tragedy. Rose could understand to some degree, she found it hard to carry on with old friendships after her illness. In a way, they could start fresh, a friendship with no before mall fire or before her surgery clouding the view of who they were right now.

Then there was their dungeon master, the leader, the glue of the club. The reason for her heart skipping a beat as she arrived at school each morning, searching for a telltale Chevy van or a big mane of frizzy hair, leather and denim. Her eyes scanning the parking lot, the hallway, or anywhere at all, really. The reason she lay listening to metal songs deep into the night, curled up in the window seat of her attic, examining every interaction, every glance and touch over the last week, trying to kid herself that it was just a new friendship, not getting her hopes up in case it was some kind of mistake, or he acted like this around every girl at school. But if she had any hope of concentrating she had to nip any thoughts of Eddie in the bud.

She turned to the sheets of paper on the study desk, her pencil twirling idly and drawing out a little flower-shaped spiral in the corner of the page. A character sheet, a chance to impress Hellfire tonight, and not appear like a silly, frivolous new girl with no clue what she was doing.

“Dustin,” Rose sighed. “I feel like i’m missing so much of Ceverra’s backstory. Yes, I was a noblewoman studying arcane magics at the Citadel, but what made me turn to necromancy?”

“Curiosity?”

“Maybe,” she hummed. “But the arc and the character have to be entwined, one feeds the other. You don’t just wake up one day and decide to raise the dead, you have to have a horrific reason...there has to be foreshadowing in her story. Maybe once we realise her backstory, we’ll work out why she’s here.”

“There’s an element of randomness to D&D play,” Dustin warned. “No one can predict the dice.”

“I still think she should have a good motivation. Something I can pull out when we get to the final villain in the campaign. A clue in her past, something hidden there all along that explains why she raises the dead.”

Dustin flipped through the pages of his Dungeon Master’s manual, one he explained belonged to his friend Will, who had just moved to California. He’d left behind his D&D books so they could play together when he came home for the holidays. The pages were weathered and dogeared, like they’d been used and loved for years. It brought a smile to Rose’s face; she too preferred her books that way. Lived in.

“Maybe we can find a magical reason, something happened to you as you studied to be a cleric,” Dustin rambled, concentrating on the pages.

“No,” Rose said. “It had to be a human reason, something tragic. I think...I think she lost her family. They were drained of life by a cult of warlocks or something, whilst she was away at the Citadel, and when she returned she found them all dead. She wasn’t there to protect her mother and father, and a sibling, a little sister maybe, so she turned to the dark arts. But it's doomed, because if she succeeds in raising her family, she will have become the thing they hate. In raising them, she kills herself, the Ceverra they loved. She turns to her old companions from the Citadel, including your bard and Jeff’s spellcaster, to aid her in finding an artefact she needs to raise her family. And gets drawn into whatever Eddie’s campaign is, before she can cross over that line and become a soulless lich. A last chance for redemption before she goes full chaotic-evil.”

“Shit,” Dustin snapped up. “That’s good. I think it works. Deeply personal motive, check. Dark magics, check. Reason for your joining the party, check. I think we have it, Lady Ceverra. We just need to determine how to spread your 27 ability points. You want three high abilities, three low. For a cleric, I recommend focusing on Wisdom and Intelligence. Plus, it kinda suits you!”

“I trust you, Dustin. Wisdom and Intelligence it is.”

He handed Rose the open book, and she searched the page, fingers tracing the scoring system; she made some notes and began to add some scores to her sheet. After ten minutes of diligent work, she handed him the character sheet; it felt like returning homework, except she suddenly cared for Dustin’s opinion more than any teacher, desperate for some kind of approval. She knew the kid was a genius, she knew he was Eddie’s protege, and somehow Robin knew him. All her favourite people seemed to regard Dustin highly. 

He leaned back in the chair, his Hellfire shirt barely visible under a brightly striped baseball-style short sleeved shirt, covered in some kind of novelty mathematical equation - probably a real one knowing Dustin - with a green Camp Nowhere badge newly sewn into the hem. It almost reminded Rose of Eddie’s battle vest, and she smiled like an idiot. Dustin idolised Eddie, she could see it in the way he deferred to the leader of their group, and copied some of his mannerisms subconsciously. 

“Okay, okay,” Dustin said positively, scanning the sheet. “The stats pass muster. I think this is gonna work. And the backstory kicks ass, like, you should be a writer.”

Rose felt herself smiling, and babbled dismissively. “Oh, I don’t know. I would like to study English Literature at university though. Maybe not cut out to be a full-blown author though...”

“That is so cool,” he said, head propped up on his elbow. “I’ve always been more of a math and science kind of man, but you’re a whole different kind of smart. Where do you wanna go to college?”

“I don’t know,” Rose faltered, making a strangled noise in her throat. She’d been so focused on achieving one single full year of school, one year with friends and normal teen experiences, that she’d put off thoughts of university. “I suppose i’d always imagined going back home, probably to London. Beyond that, i’ve not thought about it.”

“Well, you have plenty of time,” Dustin said comfortingly. “Probably two whole months, right? That’s if the application process is the same as here.”

Rose swallowed down her terror and turned back to the character sheet, where a large gap was left at the top. “Gareth is going to draw my character in art class today. He thinks the teacher won’t mind because he’s finished his assignment already. That way, it's ready for Hellfire tonight.”

Dustin looked at the sheet, with her neat, calligraphic script, his direction and shaping, and a space for Gareth’s impressive drawings. “You’re really going all out on this, huh. Eddie is going to lose his shit tonight, he’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” she said, trying to contain a gleeful grin. Since Monday’s beautiful, disastrous near-kiss, she hadn’t been fully alone with him. The closest was those two whole lunch hours at the Hellfire table, Eddie saving a seat next to him and pulling it out like a true gentleman, each of them sneaking dreamy-eyed glances at the other, careful not to be caught staring for too long. It was like a game of tag, a thrill of electricity each time they made eye contact.

White noise crackled in the quiet of the library, a muffled sound of something electronic, like white noise from a radio. Then out of the noise came a single word.

“Dustin?”

Rose went still, trying to locate the noise, but Dustin exploded into action,ducking under the table to get to his backpack, knocking over all his stuff in the process.

“ Is this thing even on? God, this is so stupid. Dustin, if you’re hearing this, it’s Steve. We have a code red. I repeat, a code red.”

“Shit,” Dustin hissed, fumbling about with his bag. He’d dropped to all fours on the beige floral carpet of the library, eyes sweeping the room for anyone watching: all clear, the place was quiet at the end of lunch, no one in their right mind would sacrifice their free period for more time around books. Except Rose and Dustin, clearly.

He retrieved a brick-sized hunk of plastic and metal from his bag, a walkie-talkie, pulling out a foot-long metal antenna from the top.

Dustin pressed down the walkie’s button, putting the mouthpiece close to his face. “This is Gold Leader. State your code red. And by the way, I told you, code names only . Also, you should bear in mind i’m in earshot of a civilian. Over.”

The combination of Dustin’s deadly serious demeanour, and his position on his knees by the library table clutching a walkie-talkie was so funny, she could almost laugh. But she really, really wanted to hear what he was saying, so leaned forward over the pencils and D&D handbooks, quiet as a mouse and straining to hear.

“Come on, not the code name. Seriously?”

“I’m deadly serious. And we spoke about this, you have to end with over . Over.”

The crackling went on for a couple of seconds, before a defeated voice came out again. “This is Farrah Fawcett, reporting a code red. There, you happy? Uh, over, or whatever.”

“I acknowledge your call sign, Farrah Fawcett. What is your code red? Does it involve any encrypted messages in other languages? Over.”

Encrypted messages? Rose was clueless, but already hooked. 

“No, Dus- I mean, Gold Leader. So Keith is busting my ass again. He says if I can’t work out which section of the video store to shelve This is Spinal Tap, i’m fired. He is so unreasonable! Over.”

Dustin growled. “We talked about this Farah Fawcett, this is not a code red. A code red is a life-threatening emergency. Or at least something that involves being so grounded that I won’t see daylight until i’m in college. Please keep this channel of communication open for genuine emergencies. Over and out.”

“Dustin, he’s gonna fire me! My dad is going to kick me out of the pool house, and then i’ll have to move in with my Aunt Josephine in Cincinnati. Is that code red enough for you, huh? No more rides to the arcade, no more free popcorn or videos, no more babysitting duties. Do you want me to suffer? Do you want Robin to suffer?”

Dustin made eye contact with Rose and shook his head, like he was forty, not fourteen, and the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Okay, message received. What was the name of the tape again?”

“Thank god. It’s called This is Spinal Tap, which is some British rock band, apparently. Cover’s got these guys with huge hair and guitars on it. I don’t know if I should put it in the documentary section, or the music section. He’s back in two minutes, so I need an answer, like, now. Over.”

“Oh shit,” Dustin said, his finger still pressed on the walkie. “My mom won’t let me see those kind of movies, Steve. But it's not like a music video, it's a documentary, right? Over.”

“You’re not filling me with confidence, Gold Leader. Should I go with Documentary?”

Rose scooted further over the table, into Dustin’s view. “Dustin, I know this one. I know it!”

“Wait, who is that?” The mysterious Farrah Fawcett - slash Steve - asked quickly.

“I’m with a girl, I mean a lady . Hold on a second Steve. Over,” Dustin looked up at Rose, eyes hopeful. He let go of the walkie and spoke privately to her for a second. “What should it be?”

“A lady? Hey, Robin doesn’t count you know. It’s Nancy isn’t it. Or maybe not, it’s Homecoming and she’s gonna be slammed with the committee today. Come on, Dustin, who is it? Is she pretty?”

Rose ignored the voice, thinking back to Monday. “It’s one of Eddie’s favourite movies. It’s a documentary, but a fake one. There’s no such band as Spinal Tap. Eddie said it was so funny he nearly pissed himself!”

“Huh,” Dustin replied, taking off his cap and mopping his brow. “He told you that? Jesus, that’s kind of personal. So it’s a comedy then?”

“Definitely,” Rose nodded wildly.

“Okay, but if you’re wrong, Steve and Robin are never gonna let me hear the end of it.”

She sat back, completely confused. Robin? What did Robin have to do with this?

Dustin turned back to the walkie. “I’ve conferred with my study buddy Lady Thorn, and can confirm the tape should be shelved in comedy. I repeat, comedy . Over.”

The static crackled. “Really? It doesn’t look funny. ”

“Just do it, Steve. I’ve gotta go, I think we’re attracting attention from hostile actors. This is Gold Leader, over and out.” He switched off the talkie, and sagged with relief, collapsing the antenna with a slap of his hand and stuffing it back in the backpack.

Rose sat back on the chair, mouth agape. “Hostile actors?”

“The librarian is giving me the side-eye,” Dustin explained, pointing subtly toward the desk, at the far end of the stacks. “I think she’s gonna kick us out.”

“Ms Miller likes me,” Rose assured him, returning to a whisper, just in case. “She’s obsessed with romantic English Literature, and I gave her my copy of an Elizabeth Gaskell book she’d never read before. She thought Mr Rochester was the pinnacle of a brooding gentleman? Oh ho, she’s yet to meet Mr Thornton. She’ll be swooning for days. No way she’ll kick us out.”

Dustin was bright-eyed as a puppy. “You really are a nerd, aren’t you.”

Rose snorted. “I thought that was clear already. Wait, you’re not getting away that easily. Who on earth was that? Is he your older brother?”

“Steve?” Dustin’s voice was so far it went into the stratosphere. He slapped his knee, laughing. “I'm so going to tell him you thought we were brothers. You know, we do both have fantastic hair. Maybe long lost cousins or something. No, Steve is a...friend, slash babysitter? It’s hard to capture with words. There’s nobody like him.”

“And you just go around with a walkie talkie, on the off chance you want to speak to this babysitter slash friend,” Rose said, suspicion creeping into her voice. 

“Sure. People do that, all the time. It’s really common in Indiana. Who needs a payphone when you’ve got a personal walkie? That’s free! Cause then you don’t need a whole stack of quarters,” Dustin shrugged his arms. “What? It’s practical!”

His voice went higher with each statement, until Rose knew he was covering something up. What an odd kid. 

“Right,” Rose narrowed her eyes. “If I didn’t have to get to class, I'd have a few more questions for you. But it's your lucky day.”

They got up from the study desk at the back of the library and slung on their bags, Rose carefully stowing away the character sheet between the pages of her math textbook as they swung open the library door, entering the hallway with its aura of enforced cheer, balloons and all sorts of glitter-laden signs announcing Homecoming! as if anyone in this school could forget it. Everyone congregated in the hallways, gossip and buzz in overdrive, like they could already taste the sugary-sweet tropical punch, feel the air thick with Aqua Net and cheap cologne, and  hear Indiana’s most middling DJ blaring out school-approved pop and light rock, a tepid beat that would fill the auditorium in just a few hours time.

They turned a corner and were met head on with a wobbling tower of boxes, shiny silver streamers spilling out the top.

”Excuse me, coming through,” a voice called out, muffled behind the decorations. 

“Hey Nance, hold on a minute,” Dustin leapt forward and took the top one, pulling it away and revealing a very frazzled Nancy Wheeler with bloodshot eyes and a don't-cross-me kind of glare.

Rose felt guilty for standing unencumbered whilst they carried heavy loads of decorations, so she followed them, running forward and opening the double doors to let them into the auditorium.

“Thank you guys,” Nancy said breathlessly, stacking them on a table and directing Dustin to do the same. “I would have collapsed in the hallway without you. Wait, Rose? I haven’t seen you since last Friday, I was going to check up on your first week but you’ve been a hard woman to find. I checked the cafeteria but you weren’t there.”

“That’s nice of you. I was a little busy today, Dustin was helping with a project in the library.”

Nancy’s face screwed up. “Dustin? Well he is a great tutor, he was always the best at math and science, better than Mike, but don’t tell him that.”

Dustin looked smug. “Mike’s known since the seventh grade, that secret is out. But it wasn’t math or science, it was something a little more fantastical , if you get my drift.”

Nancy looked between them, realisation coming to her at last. “Oh my god, did he rope you into Dungeons and Dragons? Just remember those sessions go on for hours . Sometimes the whole day. And I would get so tired my eyes would blur, and I couldn't even see the dice anymore.”

“Amateur,” Dustin said under his breath. “And it was not I that did the roping. It was Eddie.”

“Munson?” She asked, confused. “Isn’t he a little...aggressive?”

“Not at all,” Rose said immediately. “Not even a little bit.”

She could only picture Eddie smiling; slow, creeping smiles that turned up his lips and lit up his onyx eyes; wide, manic grins that cried out joy and enthusiasm; and those smiles that were infectious, laughing wholeheartedly at Dustin or Gareth’s antics. The way he held her hand in the woods, gripping it like she could possibly let him go. The way he cradled her cheek, like she was made of fragile glass. How in the nine hells of Asmodeus could Eddie Munson be called aggressive? Okay, if you were shallow you might see the hair and the jacket and the wild charisma, but when did clothes become more important than who was under them?

“Okay,” Nancy replied eventually, a thoughtful quirk to her head. “You guys can go now, thanks for the help. I’ve roped in Fred to help with the last of the decorations. He’s not on the homecoming committee, but he’s volunteered to help anyway.”

Rose and Dustin said goodbye and headed out the door; the kid waited until the door closed firmly behind them before leaning into Rose, making sure no one was in earshot before speaking low into her ear.

“Fred Benson is not helping out of charity. He’s totally in love with Nance,” Dustin dished the dirt. “He follows her around like a little puppy dog, it’s kinda sappy.”

“Which one is Fred?” She whispered back, wary of insulting any of the guys in the hallway.

“Glasses, blonde hair, has a scar on his face. He’s in the school paper with Nancy.”

“And Nancy doesn’t like him back?”

Dustin chuckled. “Seriously, if you want gossip you should hang around more girls...not including Robin. It’s complicated. Fred is in love with Nancy, but her boyfriend Jonathan - Will the Wise’s older brother - just moved to California so they’re long distance now. But Nancy’s ex Steve still has a torch for her.”

Rose gasped. “Walkie-talkie Steve?”

“Yeah!” He squealed gleefully. “They dated in Nancy’s sophomore and Junior year, but broke up because she fell for Jonathan. It was a whole thing.”

“Wow,” Rose tried to keep up. “So half the school’s in love with Nancy Wheeler. Noted.”

Dustin’s skin flushed. “I may have liked her for a little while, but that was just a silly kid thing. And it was B.S.” Dustin saw her confusion and made a wild little gesture. “ Before Suzie , of course. You’re right though, half the school is in love with Nancy. And the other half is in love with Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chrissy...Rose had biology and English with the cheerleader, whose forlorn aura and sweet smile made her stand out against the bolder, more brash girls who hung about in those cliques, circling about the basketball players. Her anxiety flared again, the sudden memory of Andy and some unnamed meathead insulting her on her first day, calling her kinda fat , in comparison to Nancy the broom handle . It was insulting to both of them, to women in general, and it brought out the self-doubt she’d tried so hard to bury. 

Don’t do it, Rose, don’t do it .

“So,” she said, pretending to be casual. “Which half are the Hellfire guys in?”

“Ew, gross,” Dustin said immediately. “Some of us are basically related to Nancy, or at least it feels like it now we’ve grown out of any middle school crushes.”

One thing Rose had determined over the last week, and was fairly certain of, was that Gareth, Jeff and Chris knew something was up between her and Eddie. Gareth’s smirk was too smug, his eyes too watchful when she sat next to Eddie in the cafeteria. Mike and Lucas she could see were observant too, but Dustin? Dustin seemed to have no idea. Or if he did, he was an incredible actor.

She fidgeted nervously with the end of her French braid - which was totally a coincidence, not that she could be more easily held or kissed or whatever by a certain metalhead covered in snaggy silver jewellery - feeling like a complete idiot. “And the older guys?”

“They don’t like Nancy, I know that. I’ve definitely seen them looking at the cheerleaders. Eddie and Gareth had this whole thing about who was hotter, Trisha Miller or Chrissy Cunningham. Gareth said Trisha because of, well,” he shot an embarrassed look at her, “She fills out the front of her uniform, if you know what I mean. That was his whole argument: boobs. But Eddie said Chrissy had the delicate aura of an elf princess, which is far more gentlemanly. He’s so freakin’ cool. Don’t tell him I said that. I don’t wanna sound like a pleb.”

Rose’s answering nod was weak. “Got it. Not a plebeian. Just a regular old equite, a knight of the Republic, maybe even a senator. I could see you as a tribune of the people. Or a philosopher.”

“Oh my God you are such a nerd, Hellfire is lucky to have you. You know, I think Eddie likes having a girl in hellfire. But not like a girl , if you get what i’m saying. Not like that,” he gave her a signature gap-toothed grin. “You’re just like one of the guys!”

---

The brief space between her last two classes found her scuffing her feet on the floor of the hall, trudging to her locker without the infectious enthusiasm for Hellfire that she had earlier.

She stowed her books and the character sheet for later. Gareth’s drawing of the lady necromancer and cleric adorned the top of the page, an elegant figure in light leather armour and a cape, wearing a bone charm around her neck. Perhaps he’d focused too much on the boobs, it was looking a little...voluptuous. And the armour wasn’t really functional, far more decorative. Just like those stupid uniforms, come to think of it. Damn cheerleaders, with their nonexistent little skirts and bouncy ponytails, and -

“Whatcha doing, McAllister?” Robin’s head was right behind her locker door, popping up like a poltergeist in a haunted house.

“Jesus,” Rose clutched her chest. “Announce yourself next time. You’ll be the death of me.”

Robin gave her a toothy grimace. “Sorry. Come to think of it, that’s not the first time someone’s said that to me.”

“I’m getting you a bell.”

“Are we talking like a necklace with a cute little charm, or a full-on cat’s collar here? Cause i’m not sure I can be contained, you know? I once got locked in a gas station bathroom and I broke out in hives. The mere thought of being stuck in an elevator makes me wanna puke. Oh god, what if the lights cut out while I'm in there...”

Rose clicked her fingers in front of her friend’s zoned-out face. “Wake up, Buckley. You’re not in an elevator, or a coffin, or a locker, or anything confined. You’re spiralling.”

“Hey! Claustrophobia is no joking matter,” Robin fired back. She watched Rose heft her books into her satchel and slammed the locker door emphatically. “What did the locker do to you?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Except for reminding me of my existential dread, social awkwardness, and the fact that i’ll die alone surrounded by a thousand cats.”

Robin’s nose scrunched up. “Do you even have a cat?”

The two of them fell in step, traversing the busy hallways to get to O’Donnell’s last period English class. 

“No, “ Rose said. “But I assume the cats will be attracted by my sad, spinster aura, and flock to the house in droves when I end up pathetic and alone. Maybe i’ll emit a strong catnip odour. It will just be me, a gigantic gothic murder mansion, and an army of cats. Come to think of it, I did see a mouse in the pantry last week chewing on a box of Ritz crackers. I screamed and smashed my favourite Bagpuss mug, and i’ll never find another one of those over here. Perhaps the cat army could come in handy.”

“See?” Robin casually slung her arm around Rose’s shoulder as they walked. “Look at you, thinking positively. But seriously though, why would you end up alone and miserable? You have your family. And me too, I'm your friend?”

Rose beamed. “Of course you are.”

“And the Hellfire guys.”

Her mouth twitched. “Hmm."

Robin stopped in her tracks, almost destabilising them, retracting her arm from Rose’s shoulder. “It’s those assholes, isn’t it. Have they said something weird or insulting? Done something utterly stupid?”

“It’s really nothing,” Rose said dismissively, folding her arms defensively.

Robin had none of it. Her blue eyes narrowed until they were dark and stormy. “I knew it. Something is going on. They’re teenage boys, they don’t have the self awareness to know how irredeemably, stupidly immature they sound. Whatever it is, i’ll knock some sense into them. But I should mention that i’m a pacifist at heart and I don’t even know how to throw a punch,” Robin pondered something, pointing her finger when an idea came to her. “I could ask Steve! Actually, he’s kind of a punchbag, i’m not sure he could survive another blow to the head. The man’s gonna end up with amnesia or something. So not Steve. Aha! I know a scathing, very intimidating middle schooler that we could rope in for Hellfire-defeating duties.”

“Robin, i’m not sending in a child to fight my battles,” Rose insisted. “Wait, its not even a battle! There is no battle, i’m just feeling..off.”

Robin groaned and looked at her long and hard. “Hey, are you busy this weekend?”

She shrugged. “Hellfire is tonight. We have to finish by six, or the Homecoming committee will turn us out of the drama room.”

“I don’t think many people have the right school spirit for Homecoming this year. I know Linda’s going, which makes me doubly glad i’m not. But what are you doing tomorrow?” Robin asked hopefully.

“I have three hundred years of American history to memorise before Ms Baldwin’s history assignment. But I can do that anytime.”

“Okay,” Robin grinned. “I have to work Saturday until six, but do you wanna watch a movie after? We can choose something the Hellfire guys will hate, something sophisticated, something...intellectual.”

A warm feeling spread in Rose’s chest, and she toyed with the strap of her bag, trying not to sound too desperate. “I would like that.”

Robin slapped her own forehead. “Agh, but my parents have this thing, this dinner party with my Dad’s old college friends. It’ll be three hours of smalltalk, devilled eggs, thousand island dip, and charades. And sherry, who drinks sherry? There’ll probably be reels of photographs from Mimsy’s trip to Nantucket. A fate worse than death.”

“We could...we could do it at my place?” Rose said, feeling emboldened by Robin’s willingness to suggest a weekend hangout, something beyond prescriptive school time. “My mum and Jerry will be there, but they are quiet, and I have the third floor all to myself. It would be like they weren’t even there. You could even sleep over, if you wanted to. I know the house is a bit...dilapidated. But there are only four windows still boarded up, the rest have all been replaced. And no more leaks!”

She felt stupid even asking; she was eighteen, not eight. Do young adults even do sleepovers?

“A movie night in a dilapidated murder mansion? Are you kidding? It’s so whimsical!” Robin was excited, hands gesticulating at a hundred miles an hour. “If you stop by Family Video before we close, we can have our pick of movies, courtesy of a very special employee-perk a.k.a what Keith doesn’t know, won’t kill him. Plus you can meet Steve.”

Rose cocked her head to one side, thinking through the mutual friend everybody seemed to have. “I don’t understand how everyone knows this Steve.”

Robin grew shifty, fidgeting and looking anywhere but Rose’s eyes. “Just, normal places. Work, school. You know, where everybody meets everybody. Oh, and if he hits on you, just let him down gently. He’s had a bad year in the romance department.”

“So Dustin tells me,” Rose said. She zoned out as Robin nattered about Steve’s failed dates and some kind of scoreboard, because she spotted Eddie’s unmistakeable figure coming down the hallway, toward Mrs O’Donnell’s classroom door. 

Where others walked, Eddie swaggered. He was all gangly limbs, swerving around the corner as came into the corridor, almost knocking over other students, brushing off their angry looks or jeers with a middle finger or a scary face. But today, he actually had a book. Hell, he had two books in his hand, tucked against his battle vest. Rose had gathered from their few shared classes and the brief, staggeringly honest exchange in the woods on Monday that Eddie was not exactly committed to academics. He tried, he showed up most of the time, but he was often fidgety, overwhelmed or completely buried in his own head rather than the lesson. Yet she knew he read fantasy extensively and designed complex D&D campaigns that required a serious degree of storytelling. 

Eddie hadn’t seen her yet. He hovered by the door, face falling as he looked inside. He’d paused on the threshold of the classroom like he might still make a run for it. She should wave, she should run up and say hello...maybe they could sit together. Who was she kidding, she was definitely sitting next to him if the seat was still free, just like on Monday.

But now, thanks to Dustin bloody Henderson, every bit of her recent burst of confidence was put into doubt. What if he was looking for a cheerleader? Did he search for Chrissy Cunningham in the crowd, with her gentle Elvish princess aura or whatever else Dustin had repeated to her? 

Rose looked down at herself, her Live Aid t-shirt, acid wash jeans, and Doc Martens, and felt incredibly underdressed. Well, at least she’d blend in with the Hellfire boys tonight; it might not be an official Hellfire shirt, but it had a similar vibe. It certainly felt more her than the awful pink high-collared cardigan she’d thrown over a dress last Friday on her first day, in a desperate attempt to cover her surgical scar.

She was miles deep in desperate thoughts about her own imperfections compared to the gaggle of cheerleaders that hovered nearby, all seeming to take her English class, when Eddie looked up. Their eyes met across the hall, a single sizzling, sparking second of contact that almost affected her as physically, as the near-kiss, even though they were twenty feet apart. 

Eddie’s brash, confident personal bled out of him until he was like jelly, leaning against the doorframe for support, eyes bright and hopeful. God, she’d missed that dopey smile. It was no more than 24 hours since they last spoke, but in a single week of acquaintance a day was a long time. Too long. She hugged her copy of Poe to her chest, not sure if she should wave. Is waving too much? Too boring? 

Rose’s arm twitched before her brain engaged; her imagination ran away with her and she did a weird little curtsey, actually dipping at the knee and nodding her head; to Eddie’s absolute, crazy-grinned delight. He did a full-on bow in response, bending at the waist, arm spreading wide.

Her view of Eddie’s theatrics were cut off as Robin stepped into her field of view dramatically, her freckled face only inches away.

“Oh, i’m sorry,” Robin’s voice was teasing, vibrating with restrained energy. “Am I interrupting something here?”

Rose snapped back to her friend. “What?”

“Don’t you give me that , it’s me that’s asking ‘what’...as in what the hell did I just witness?”

Nerves hit her in the stomach, like she’d been caught with her hand in the biscuit jar. Just as she opened her mouth and ready to babble some meaningless excuse or denial, the shrill bell rang out just above their heads, Rose flinching and clutching onto her books.

Rose drew as tall as she could - still several inches shorter than Robin - and tried to look dignified and imperious. “I have no idea what you are talking about. A girl can curtsey if she likes, nothing wrong with it. In fact-”

Robin’s gasp was loud and drawn out. “Oh my god. You like him.”

Heart racing, palm-sweating. Rose didn’t like that feeling, it reminded her too much of being ill, and damn did all this fancying him push her close to that heart-fluttering feeling. She walked toward O’Donnell’s room, where Eddie had gone inside with all the rest of the waiting seniors. “I like all the Hellfire guys,” she whispered to Robin. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Robin looked like a ripe tomato, red, cheeks about to burst. She was about to say something when Rose ducked into the class, using Mrs O’Donnell and her class as a shield, knowing they couldn’t talk freely beneath her bespectacled, scathing gaze.

She let out a deeply held breath, relieved and nervous when she saw Eddie in his usual spot at the back, winking at her and nodding toward the empty seat by his side. 

She could feel Robin’s eyes upon her back as she fled to the back of the classroom and took the empty spot.

“Milady,” Eddie greeted, mischief in his eyes. “I had to fend off an army of orcs to keep the spot free, so you’d better take it.”

“Orcs?” Rose raised a brow.

He shrugged and pointed with his skull-ringed finger toward the front of the room. Gareth was sat between two of the mathletes from the terribly named science geek lunch table, brooding, arms crossed over his chest and shooting Eddie dirty looks. 

She grimaced. “Oh no. I don’t want to piss off Gareth. He might stab me in the back during the campaign later. And i’m not sure if I mean literally, or in the imaginary landscape of the Icewind Dale. I could move, if it will make him feel better.”

Eddie leaned over, and put his hand on her desk table. “Gareth the Great will survive. In fact, he might just concentrate more up there without me distracting him. I’m basically inflating his grade from a C minus to a B.”

“So generous of you,” Rose smiled, staring at his hand, just a finger’s width from hers. “So now it’s my turn to be distracted? Didn’t think about my grades, did you?”

When she turned to face the front, Robin was sitting four desks away,  neck craned comically, keeping an eye on their interaction. 

Eddie didn’t seem to notice, his voice low as he replied. “What’s the worst I could do, drag you down from A plus plus to a measly A single plus? I get the feeling that you know more about this literary shit than Mrs O’Donnell ever has, and you’re just sitting amongst us mere mortals to pass the time.”

“We actually have a double plus at home, it’s called an A star, but...it’s silly really,” A shaky laugh came from Rose’s throat, one she silenced quickly when the teacher’s chair scraped against the floor and O’Donnell stood, surveying the students with a predatory gleam.

“You’re all looking forward to Homecoming tonight, aren’t you,” O’Donnell said gleefully. “Dreaming of corsages and slow dances. But before you scurry home and put on your fancy frocks and bow ties, you owe me something. Assignments.”

Andy the meathead slunk deeper into his chair, with a low, desperate groan.

“Yes, Andrew.” O’Donnell pointed at him. “I will be paying particular attention to your grade this semester. Come on now, everyone pass your assignments forward. Don’t forget, this will count as ten percent of your final grade.”

A whole room shuffled and produced stacks of papers from the inside of their books or their bags on the floor. Rose pulled out a ten page behemoth she had penned at home in the window seat of her attic room.

Eddie plucked out two creased pages from the inside of his jacket, and eyed hers with a nervous smile. “Jeez, did you write a novel or something? How long did that take you?”

Rose bit her bottom lip, feeling her face warm up. “Not that long. But the power cut on Wednesday night really helped, there was nothing to do but read by candlelight in my room.”

He nodded vigorously, passing their essays to the guy in front. “Cool, uh, cool image. Big creepy mansion, candlelight, rooms, bedrooms with...beds. Very gothic.”

“I suppose,” she said weakly. Better than admitting she had nothing else to do on a weeknight than delve into literary analysis in her bedroom, watched over by her wall of handsome musicians and actors pulled from the glossy pages of magazines.

“Wait,” Eddie burst out, head cocked to one side. “What power cut?”

“Thank you class,” O’Donnell interrupted them. “Barring Andrew, of course. If you can’t produce an essay by Monday you’ll be marked as a zero. Which somehow means, Mr Munson, that you handed in an essay on time. I think this has to be a first. I take it this one is yours?”

Mrs O’Donnell held aloft Eddie’s two-pager and she could see it was headed with an eye-catching drawing of a beating heart, anatomically correct...just like the one she’d sketched on his desk last week.

“That’s right, Mrs O,” Eddie said with a smug grin. “But be gentle with my heart, I don’t know if it can take another F.”

The teacher held it with two fingers, slightly away from her body like it might be covered in something unpleasant. “It’s certainly...something. I’m surprised you stopped staring at the cheerleaders long enough to read a single word of Edgar Allen Poe. Let’s hope you can keep it up.”

Oh shit. Rose wasn’t sure which hurt more, the entire class making disgusted noises and turning in their direction, or the sudden realisation that Chrissy Cunningham was three seats in front of Eddie, directly in his field of view. Chrissy was the only one that hadn’t turned around, like she was in her own world, picking at the beds of her reddened, bitten nails. Coincidence or not, it was enough to drain the confidence from her yet again.

“Fucking freak,” Jason Carver muttered under his breath. Rose didn’t miss that he looked between her and Eddie, seemingly just noticing the proximity of the freak to the new girl, his brain slowly ticking and putting together an association of some kind. Not that she cared for the opinion of a such a crowd-peddling narcissist, 

O’Donnell gathered the papers and swung right into the lesson, giving them three poems to read in silence whilst she marked the assignments at the desk, sipping from a mug of steaming black coffee. The woman looked up and snuck a glimpse at Eddie and her, and Rose just knew it. The woman had it out for him, big time.

Rose kept her head down, reading the page a dozen times and not taking in a single line of poetry. Sure, Eddie had flirted with her. Even she was clued up enough to recognise that. But was that because she was just there, literally walking into his domain last week in Hellfire? Was she a consolation prize? 

A grating, irritating noise sounded to her left. She snuck a glance past her makeshift shield a.k.a. notebook, and Eddie was downcast, pencil tapping incessantly on his book, completely wired and ignoring the book altogether. It was worrying, like he was disassociated from the classroom, not able to concentrate on the work, about to snap at any second.

Something clicked within her; he looked like she had felt, stuck in a bright, sterile hospital ward, tethered to bleeping monitors by wired electrodes stuck to her chest, worried sick every second that this was how she would die. That panic threatened her now, an urgent need to flee, her breathing coming hard. If this was how Eddie reacted to a classroom, no wonder his grades had suffered. No wonder he’d repeated senior year not once, but twice now. Rose was kind of in awe that someone would put themselves in that situation willingly, over and over again. She didn’t think she could.

Fuck O’Donnell, fuck the Jason Carvers and the Andys of the world, those that made Hawkins High a real hell for Eddie and those who were different. Rose made a silent vow to herself that she’d help Eddie get through this class, no matter what. Romantic weirdness aside, that smug bitch O’Donnell was not getting one over on them. Not on her watch.

An hour of silent reading later they were turned out of the classroom, collecting their assignments on the way out. Gareth had passed her something covertly and headed early to the drama room, to meet Chris and Jeff before the session began. And as Eddie hadn’t yet left his desk, Rose said a quick goodbye to a very perplexed Robin. Her friend was obviously about to explode with questions, but had to leave as the mysterious walkie-talkie Steve was giving her a ride to her Friday night shift at Family Video.

Eddie was last out of the class, face buried in his assignment. He saw her waiting, flipping over the page and pointing to a big, red D overlapping the sketch of the heart.

“It’s not much,” he said, squirming from her gaze. “But all I need is a D in Mrs O’Donnell’s, and then I should have enough credits to graduate. So it's better than an F.”

“That’s fantastic. Ten percent of the class, already locked down. Ninety to go,” she prattled nervously. “You felt compelled to actually read the story then? It’s as exciting as Tolkien.”

His confident grin returned slowly. “What can I say, I’ve developed a sudden interest in beating hearts and haunted houses. Both very metal. But what did you get, an A or an A plus? Oooh, don’t say a B, you couldn’t live with the shame.”

Rose stepped closer. “Oh, that assignment? Yes, it was an A plus, though she left a note complaining about the length and some of the source material being outside of the curriculum. But actually, i’ve been waiting to hand in my real assignment all day.”

He looked perplexed, brows furrowing, big doe-eyes looking around like he might find the answer in the corner of the room. “Uh...what?”

She produced a sheet of paper from behind her back, holding it up; her newly illustrated character sheet, Lady Ceverra beautifully drawn in monochrome by Gareth during his Art class, except for the red of her hair beneath a dark hooded cloak. It looked like something from a comic book, but less childish, more gothic. 

Eddie’s eyes widened until they almost popped from his head, scanning the drawing, surrounded by her calligraphic script with her character’s name, boxes full of stats, and alignment. “McAllister, what the hell? You did this since last Friday?”

His hand reached out to take the sheet but she pulled it back, planting a hand on his chest to keep his greedy hands away. “It’s a surprise. No reading it before the campaign, dungeon master. You’ll have to discover who Lady Ceverra is as we go through whatever you have planned for us tonight.”

She could feel the rumbling in his chest as he laughed. Somehow her hand had slipped past the layers of open denim and leather, resting over his Hellfire shirt, warm and solid chest right beneath her palm.

“Gimme,” he said, trying to snake his arms past her. “I see some seriously badass leather armour, and suspiciously low cut...did Gareth draw it for you?” He did a dramatic gasp. “Have you been meeting all the guys behind my back, McAllister?”

Rose’s lips twitched upwards. “Only Gareth. And Dustin; that’s why he was missing from lunch today.”

“That little shit. I thought he had the stomach flu. Give it, I wanna see!”

Rose twisted away, keeping the paper away from his grasping hands, surrounded by a curtain of his hair. “No, you’ll have to wait! Be patient!”

She broke away, dodging from him and stepping backward, running down the now-empty corridor with Eddie in pursuit, the place echoing with footsteps and their laughter. She felt like a kid again, being chased in the playground in a game of tag, without a care in the world. She rounded a corner and ducked into an alcove, letting Eddie run past. He kept going to the drama room, arms flailing, wobbling about like a goofball. He has such a stupid run that she couldn’t make it to the drama room door without a breathless cackle coming from her throat, alerting Eddie to her presence as he was about to burst through the door.

“What the hell?” He said, whipping around. “Your stealth must be off the charts.”

She raised the character sheet. “Try Wisdom and Intelligence.”

He bounded over to her like an over-eager puppy, chains clanking on his jeans, hair swishing manically around his face. “Oh please, Lady Ceverra. This humble bard only wishes to learn more about you.”

Her laughter slowed down, became more of a low hum in her throat, finding herself with her back pressed against a locker and Eddie bracing his arm just inches from her head, not caging her in completely but overwhelming her senses.

She held up the paper, obscuring the lower half of her face with it. “Is it proper for the Dungeon Master to read a character sheet before a session?”

Eddie’s eyes were wicked in the gloomy hall, with half the lights turned off already. “I don’t know about proper. More, uh...insatiable curiosity, I guess. I just can’t help it. Not when it comes to you, Rosie. Will you show me who you are?”

This was more than D&D, the seriousness of his tone was clear. And the way he was ignoring the sheet, looking right into her eyes. Her hand dropped and limbs had turned to warm jelly, surrounded by Eddie, still not getting enough , her fingers and lips tingling with the need to touch, to do something phys-

“Oh shit, you two disappear for a minute and you’re getting all pon farr on the lockers,” a very pissed off Jeff said, emerging from the drama room. “Hey, that’s my locker!”

“Goddamn it Jeff,” Eddie gave Rose an apologetic look and pulled away from the locker reluctantly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Enough with the sci-fi references. Not everyone watches Battlestar Galactica.”

Jeff looked like he might pass out. “Woah, woah, woah...that’s Star Trek, not Battlestar. How could you, man. I know you're more of a fantasy guy, but you’ve gotta respect the greatest TV show on the face of the planet.”

“Alright, alright,” Eddie sighed and shepherded Jeff into the Hellfire room and looked back nervously, gesturing to Rose to enter. “If the Lady Ceverra will forgive the foolish jester back there, could I still tempt her inside? The party of adventurers won’t be the same without her.”

Rose peeled herself from the lockers, her back aching from the cold metal. “You can’t put me off now, Dungeon Master. But one question. What’s a pon farr?”

Jeff’s muffled voice called out from within. “It’s a Vulcan mating rit-”

Eddie leapt inside, suddenly filled with panic. “Shut it. Silence Jeff, I swear to god i’ll tape your mouth up if you don’t stop right this minute.”

---

“Your quest has led you to here, every tavern rumour, bribe and threat to the wizards of the Citadel has proven right. The burial mound slopes gently in the wooded hollow, weathered by storm and wind and frost over eons of time, now smothered in vines and moss. The entire mound emits an aura of magic, intense magic. There are wards placed to keep out magic users like you. What’s inside, you ask? Oh, I don’t know, you’ll have to find out yourself by exploring the dark, dank tunnel crumbling into its side. Damp air, thick with mouldering earth, stale with decay, lingers at the tunnel mouth. Do you dare enter?”

When Eddie, reclining on his throne with goblet in hand like he was at a bacchanal, finished his monologue, the party looked at each other one by one. Gareth flexed his knuckles like he was faced with a physical fight, Dustin was nodding vigorously, and Lucas tightened the bandana around his forehead, like he was Rambo himself. 

“Do you even have to ask?” Chris said scathingly. “Each one of us has bled for this moment, dungeon master. I, Thordus Boulderbash, enter the tunnel with my axe-”

“Wait, we’re the Circle of Eight, remember?” Mike prompted him. “We’re playing as wizards for the beginning of the campaign.”

Rose leaned forward onto her elbows. “Wait, why is that? I spent so much time on Lady Ceverra, I was looking forward to playing her.”

Eddie raised his goblet, and threw his leg over one of the arms of his wooden throne. “Children, and milady , hold on. It’s all about trust, man. Let me guide you through this,” he turned to Rose, seated on his right hand side just like last week. “Sweetheart, I know you were excited about this. Just be patient. And in the meantime, you can make the wizard you’re playing now a cleric. You can still heal and eventually raise the dead.”

“Okay,” Rose sighed. “I trust you.”

Jeff muttered under his breath. “I’ve been scarred by Eddie too many times...I feel something big coming, something bigger than a demogorgon, man.”

Dustin nudged Lucas and whispered; Rose had no idea how all the younger boys acted when all three were together, so she just observed and assumed this was all normal.

“We climb into the tunnel,” Gareth picked up the narrative thread. “One by one, we get on our knees and crawl through the dirt, raising torches to light the way.”

Eddie rolled a dice behind his screen. He hissed and popped up, grimacing at them. “Sorry my little adventurers, that’s...a rockfall. You’re clambering through the tunnel and the roof collapses, causing ten damage to the last three people into the tunnel, sealing off your exit. Now, you’re trapped.”

Lucas moaned loudly. “Why did I have to go last? Last is usually safest. Wait - Rose, you’re a cleric, right? Can you do a healing spell? Keep up my HP?”

Rose’s brows raised, and she looked around the table. “Can I?”

Eddie nodded. “You can.”

Rose whistled with relief and threw a d20. 

“That’s a miss, sweetheart,” Eddie says gently. “You all proceed, damage remains.”

“I feel useless already,” she said.

“You’re level one, it’s kind of expected,” Dustin explained. “But look on the bright side! It only gets better from here. Sure, you’ll be slow, miss most of your attacks, and won’t be able to use your necromantic powers until you hit level ten, but you’ll get there.”

Rose tried to mask her disappointment. “Level ten?” 

Eddie placed down his goblet, sitting upright like a normal human for once. He waited, each second he purposefully paused drawing out the tension in the room. “Necromancer’s aren’t born, milady. They have no natural place in the order of things. The land of Greyhawke might be full of magic, but life and death, those are...immutable. And the power to raise something already dead back to life? That’s against nature. That’s something you earn with blood, sweat, tears and a mother fucking tonne of XP points. But when you get there, it’s...intoxicating, like a high,” he gave her a smile that travelled straight into her veins, pulsing warm and dizzy all around her body. “When the time comes, you’ll fucking love raising the dead.”

Rose cleared her throat and pressed together her legs, aware of a very distressing, very urgent pulsing in places other than her heart, hopeful that the other guys didn’t notice the flush to her skin. “So, um, why does it take a necromancer so long to build up to their attacks?”

It was Mike who answered, his gangly awkwardness long gone, confident in the game and as knowledgeable as Eddie. She remembered he was the younger boys’ Dungeon Master.

“Whether good or evil, a necromancer can’t just practice raising the dead straight away,” Mike gestured with his pencil to the board and the character sheets they all placed in front of them. “There’s not really a halfway to raising the dead, right? They will have to practice slowly sucking the life force out of people before they can make their first thrall - that’s the zombie they create, a thrall. So it might be like they’re sucking the energy out of someone for a long time, making them sick. Like...their eyes might start bleeding, organs sucked out their bodies.”

“I guess,” Lucas chimed in, with a grin. “But I think it's more psychic than physical. So they might feel sick and have headaches and shit, but they’ll look fine, until suddenly they’re not fine at all. The lich is hungry, and they need a snack before they have the energy to fully raise the dead. But once a necromancer has practiced enough? Once he or she has reached level ten? All bets are off. Their Raise Dead spell is like a nuclear bomb on the D&D board, a weapon more powerful than most other classes. They go from nought to sixty, killing and raising people as thralls left and right.”

Rose looked down at Lady Ceverra, at the drawing Gareth had finished this afternoon. The drama room spotlights and flickering pillar candles lit up a fighter in light armour, a cleric with healing skill, and one day, a necromancer. A thing of power, but with that power came the serious temptation of evil. Whether her character could resist all that temptation at level ten was to be seen. Raising creatures from the dead sounded fun, but she’d been dead herself, technically. Even if it was just a few minutes. Was she a thrall, bound to do others bidding? Or now she was alive again, was she truly herself?

The game went on for three hours, screaming, jeering, dice flying across the table. They encountered a horde of gargoyles in the burial chamber, losing Lucas to the creatures before the party could make it to the main chamber in the burial mound. Chris was slain at the burial chamber, inhaling poisonous spores, and their party became just five.

Eddie ducked behind his screen again and read through his meticulous notes, then he launched upward, standing on the throne, speaking down to them like a King to his subjects.

“You creep into the burial chamber. Runes on the wall are familiar, but older than any you’ve seen before, layered with a thousand years of dust. And all around a central sarcophagus are long given offerings of wine, incense, coin, and something even more sinister...corpses of animals, of people, pitchers of dried blood filling the air with the thick scent of copper and iron.”

“Oh man,” Gareth said shakily, hands buried in his hair. “I don’t like this.”

Eddie smiled, and continued. “A blast of air colder than ice, colder than death itself, ripples through the chamber. It sucks the very last breath from Dustin, killing him on the spot.”

“What?” Dustin threw his hat across the room. “What the hell, Eddie? I didn’t even get to roll?”

“Mike is next,” Eddie says, sinister, creeping toward the back of the boy’s chair. “Your lungs struggle, coughing and snapping something in your body, gargling on the sudden warmth of your own blood and choking to death.”

“Thanks,” Mike said, deadpan.

Eddie crept around the table clockwise, talking to each of his friends, and Rose got a vague idea of what was happening. 

“Jeff, you’re next. Death comes for you as swift as a knife in the dark. Then Gareth...ah, Gareth. Your power is obvious, your skill known throughout the land. But even you cannot face the forces of darkness and evil alone. You form a fireball with your hands just as the cold takes you, desperate for its warmth. Your body shrivels and hits the floor in an instant. But the light it casts illuminates the dark chamber for just a second...”

Eddie turned to her, his dark eyes wild, the candlelight flickering in their glassy depths.  “Lady Rose, the flare of light gives you just long enough to see a lumpy, grotesque shape emerge from the sarcophagus...a skeletal frame, grey-skinned, with white hair and broken teeth. He raises two gaunt hands toward you and snaps your neck with a single click of his fingers. And his last words? Hail, Vecna.”

“Jesus Christ!” Dustin flung his pencil on the table. “The wards weren’t there to keep wizards out, they were there to keep Vecna in!”

The guys made noises of shock and horror, Rose holding her breath, waiting for an explanation.

“Hold on, it can’t be Vecna,” Gareth said to the group. “The thing had two hands. We know Vecna’s left eye and left hand were sacrificed long ago, so this is just one of his followers, another necromancer. The fucking Cult of Vecna, dude. This campaign is going to break us, it’s going to kill us all.”

Rose was confused. She let them talk amongst themselves about the significance of the villains she’d never heard of before, but her eyes kept going back to her character.

“But we all just died!” She shouted, cutting over the masculine voices. “Isn’t that the end of the campaign?”

Eddie leaned toward her, palms planted on the wooden tabletop. “She’s right, you did just die, so let me finish. Rose, your wizard is dead, as are all of you. The Circle of Eight - which you were playing as - has perished in the tomb, releasing a powerful lich, a cultist of Vecna. But as each of you die, you wake in your mortal bodies. Rose, that means you’re now playing as Lady Ceverra, and everyone else as their own characters. Each one of you awakens with the same thought: Vecna will rise, and the Circle of Eight is slain, the last force strong enough to contain his evil already fallen. One thing each of you know is that you must find Mordenkainen, the Circle’s leader, the last hope for defeating Vecna and his cultists. The quest for Mordenkainen is next week, brave warriors. Get your characters ready, this is the start of my longest campaign yet, we’re talking months.”

“Holy shit,” Dustin cried out. “Vecna is going to be so tough.”

“I know,” Lucas shook his head. “Erica is going to be so jealous. She’ll pretend it's dorky, but she secretly thrives on shit like this.”

Rose felt so behind compared to the others, out of her depth when it came to the gameplay and technical knowledge. She smiled weakly and packed up her things with the others, blowing out candles and wafting away the smoke before the Homecoming committee barged in and accused them of smoking.

A hand appeared on her shoulder; Eddie, with his bashful smile, trying to stop her from tidying the room.

“Hey.”

She smiled back. “Hey.”

Wow. Thrilling exchange, McAllister. What next, how are you? Do you come here often?

Eddie crossed his arms over his Hellfire-emblazoned shirt. “So Vecna is basically the Witch-king of Angmar, once a king, kind of ascended to godhood but not really. So  maybe a cross between the Witch-king and Sauron?”

“Ah, my nemesis,” Rose laughed. “Because...because i’m Eowyn...from last week.”

Eddie blinked a couple of times. “No, I get it. Very appropriate. But Vecna’s a big deal, I hope you have fun. I mean, the whole point is to have fun whilst doing this. So if at any point you think it's boring or don’t wanna continue, please don't pretend and secretly grow to loathe and hate me for dragging you here. What I mean...I mean...”

Rose hushed him. “No one is forcing me to be here. I like it, your storytelling is amazing, and the guys are all fun.”

He seemed to like that, growing brighter as she spoke. “So you’re not going to Homecoming tonight then? No desire to put on a poofy dress and dance? You know, they’ll probably play some Duran Duran at some point. Your favourite.”

Eddie did a little tap dance across the drama room, with the guys in the background making groans of despair or laughing along as they saw him up to his usual antics. He looped around the table and came right back to Rose, bowing at the end.

“Is that how people dance at school events? Like their boots are on fire?”

“Nope, that’s the Hellfire special, dance like Satan’s watching you, and your feet are licked by the flames of hell itself.”

“Satan licks feet?” Rose feigned surprise, hand on her chest. “That’s a bit  kinky. I would expect no less from the dark lord himself.”

Eddie’s grin was a mile wide, and he bit his bottom lip rather sinfully. “You just wait until Halloween. The ritual sacrifice is so worth a whole year of red tape and consent forms.”

Chris made a disgusted noise in his throat as he walked by, putting on his own leather jacket and getting ready to leave.

Dustin, Mike and Lucas ran out, called by someone’s parents in the hall, probably Mike’s mom dropping Nancy off early for homecoming prep.

Eddie watched go fondly, and turned back to Rose. “Your Balrog isn’t here yet?”

“My mum? No, she’s relaxed her claws a little bit. She’s not very well, and my stepdad’s working late, so I get to take the bus. It’s quite exciting really, she’s been overprotective about it for years, like she thinks I need to be within ten feet of a trained paramedic or first aider for the rest of my life.”

Eddie’s frown lined his face deeply, mouth pursed and slightly open. “You’re getting the bus? But that doesn’t come for almost an hour.”

“I’ll wait. Maybe Nancy needs help with decorations or punch-bowl filling.”

He wasn’t convinced. “Nope. Nuh-huh. The carriage has plenty of room, i’ll give you a ride home if you don’t mind sitting next to Gareth for a while, his place isn’t too far.”

Rose toyed with her hands, fidgeting awkwardly. “Really? You’re sure?” 

“Deathly serious,” he replied. “No maiden roams the streets and takes the bus on my watch. Besides, we can continue your metal education, introduce you to a few new songs. I still have to build you up to Megadeath, remember?”

“Sounds...slightly terrifying. But thank you.”

He went a little shy, grabbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. “You never have to ask, alright? Just tell me when you need to get home after Hellfire...or school, or whatever. The van is at your service. And, uh, me too. At your service. Just, whenever.”

Rose could hardly stop smiling, a smile that persisted all the way through clearing the drama room, through Gareth calling shotgun as they walked through the parking lot, through Eddie insisting she get the seat closest to him, but only because Gareth’s house was first, so he’d need to be by the door.

The chariot smelled of cigarettes, weed, and stale fries. But Eddie opened the van door for her like a true gentleman, running to his own side and scooping up wrappers and all kinds of stuff that lived on the front seat, throwing it into the back frantically. She climbed in and buckled the seatbelt, examining the stack of tapes he’d shoved on the dash; Judas Priest, Dio, W.A.S.P, and Jimi Hendrix. 

Gareth crammed into the seat by the door, and Eddie took the wheel, engine roaring into life with an aggravated growl. 

“Hold onto your hats, ladies and gentlemen,” Eddie threw the van into reverse, swinging his arm right behind Rose’s shoulders to look out the back. The van jerked backwards across the lot, swerving around a corner so quickly the thing felt like it would flip over, rubber screeching on the tarmac.

“Jesus,” Gareth hissed. “Lighten up on the gas, dickhead.”

“Drama queen,” Eddie said sheepishly.

Despite clinging onto the seat belt for dear life, Rose was more focused on the arm snaking dangerously close to her shoulders, feeling bereft when he withdrew it. “So what’s next on my metal journey?” Rose asked. “Do I get something heavy yet?”

Gareth replied before Eddie could open his mouth. “Don’t let this guy brainwash you with his Dio obsession. Ozzy Sabbath is the best Sabbath.”

“I have nothing against the Prince of Darkness!” Eddie’s voice rang out shrill in the small van cab. “Lady Evil and Heaven and Hell just happen to be great songs, that’s all.”

Gareth chuckled sarcastically. “Better than War Pigs? Better than Iron Man or Paranoid?” He scrambled around and found a tape, leaning over Rose and shoving it in the cassette player. “You know Sabbath wrote Paranoid in under an hour, just to fill up the album. One of the greatest metal songs of all time was just Ozzy’s filler . How can Dio compete with that?”

Gareth punched the play button and the opening riff blasted in her ears, her hands coming up to muffle them.

“Sorry,” Eddie reached over for the dial and turned it down, swerving just a little as they came out onto the main road. 

“It’s a miracle you still have any hearing left,” Rose commented. Her knee bounced to the rhythm of the song. “I like this. Weird that he’s blaming his girlfriend for his craziness, but I can overlook it.”

“See?” Gareth said smugly. “Ozzy Sabbath is the pinnacle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie murmured. “Lady Evil still kicks ass. Dio has the range, you can’t deny it.”

Rose laughed and just observed ad the guys argued back and forth in the ten minutes it took to get to Gareth’s house, a split level ranch in a neat, tidy neighbourhood, the very picture of suburbia with manicured lawns, little garden gnomes and flower beds, and practical sedans and station wagons parked on the roomy driveways.

“Don’t forget practice on Sunday,” Gareth called out as he leapt down from the van. “You still owe me those extra drumsticks.”

Eddie nodded. “I’m good for it. See you later, man.” 

The van door closed and Rose was acutely aware of their proximity, and the fact that they were alone again.

“So,” Eddie grinned. “The cassette player is all yours now, milady. What do you want to play?”

She hummed, making a show of thinking intently. “Give me something heavy. I can take it, I promise. What’s your favourite?”

Eddie sucked in his breath and whistled. “Oh, I don’t know. Not sure if you can handle it.”

Rose pivoted in her seat, belt straining across her chest. “Is that what you think, hmm? I’m not delicate, trust me. Favourite song, give it to me.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “I...I, uh think I can do that. Maybe it's time to introduce you to Metallica. I mean, it’s only fair after I listened to about an hour of Duran Duran last weekend.”

“Hey,” she swatted his arm. “No one forced you to eavesdrop on my personal mix tape, Edgar Munson .”

“I knew you’d pull the Edgar card eventually,” he chuckled as they pulled out of Gareth’s drive, back on the road again. “I told you, restraint isn’t my strong suit, sweetheart. God, what do they all even do? Do they have instruments, or just stand around doing a little dance as they sing backing vocals for the main Simon Le Bond or whatever?”

“Simon Le Bon,” she corrected. “But stop trying to distract me, give me some Metallica.”

He grabbed a tape from the dash and tossed it over to her, an electric blue case, forked with lightning, with the band’s name in big letters. “Fast forward for a few seconds, press play exactly when I tell you. Keep going...now.”

Rose hit the button and a sonorous church bell rang out, followed by a heavy guitar riff, the sound filling the whole van. She let the music unfold, watching Eddie headbang and tap his ringed fingers on the steering wheel out the corner of her eye.

By the time the vocals kicked in she was nodding with him, bowled over by the incredible guitar work. It might be kind of a new genre to her, but there was something so atmospheric about it, unpretentious, out there...very Eddie. A drumline so strong it thrummed through her like a heartbeat.

Minutes later, the song faded slowly away, and Rose snuck another glance at him. 

“You like?” he asked, face vulnerable. “Don’t lie if it’s too much.”

Rose smiled. “I like. A lot.”

He let out a breath, sagging against the steering wheel. “That’s good.”

“So what’s next? More Metallica, or do I get to graduate to Megadeth?”

Eddie cocked his head in surprise. “As much as I wanna walk you through my whole collection, you know you’re home, right?”

She startled, looking out the window. They were parked on her vast driveway, sweeping up to the double-fronted house, the grey-blue faded paintwork of the gothic mansion fading into the gloomy dusk, bright lights in the first floor windows lighting the place from within like a great big jack-o-lantern. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She gripped her satchel hard, stilling her fidgeting fingers, leaning back against the lumpy van seat. “Maybe, do you want to...you could come in. I mean, if you wanted to.”

Eddie grabbed a handful of his hair and covered his mouth. “You want me to come in?”

Rose felt so utterly lame, so bumbling and terrible at talking to him, that she willed the ground to swallow her up whole. “Only if you want to.”

He leaned in, looking between her and the house. “I don’t think I should.”

Rose nodded vigorously, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for the door, clambering out as quickly as she could. “Of course, no big deal. It's Friday night, after all. That was stupid of me to assume you wouldn’t have any plans-”

Eddie’s door slammed as she backed away from the van, and before she knew it he was out on the path ahead of her, palms held up like she was skittish and about to run away - which she supposed, she was about to do. “No, no, no,” he said frantically. “I mean I literally can’t come in. I, uh, I really want to. Like really . But I promised someone I wouldn’t, and I don’t want to break that promise.”

“Ah,” she said slowly. Oh god. This was the part where he admitted to having a girlfriend, wasn’t it? Someone less bookish, someone metal , who wore leather and listened to Megadeth every day with her breakfast. Not Duran Duran. God , she probably had a Megadeth tattoo. Complete fucking opposite of Rose. What the hell, she was probably a cheerleader too. A rocker-cheerleader, with blood red lipstick and teased out Joan Jett hair, and nipple piercings. Yep, an anti-Rose. 

Eddie sighed, frustrated, crossing his arms and pivoting about, feet restless. “I can’t be that guy, going back on my word, you know? Everyone expects a Munson to be a fuckup, a criminal, a cheat. I don’t wanna be like that.”

Rose laughed, but instead of careless and breezy it came out deranged and shrill. “I get it, Eddie. Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you in class next week.”

She dodged around him and marched up the path, towards the imposing house. Don’t turn around, she told herself, tears stupidly prickling at the corner of her eyes. Don’t look back. She fumbled with her keys at the huge door, the one with newly fitted stained glass in the shape of  a rose, of all things. Mum insisted it had to be a rose, she thought it was a lovely coincidence.

“Fuck it. Bollocking fucking fuck,” she cursed, keys clinking as they dropped to the floor. She bent down as the door swung open, the light inside bathing the gloomy night, a pair of tartan slippers right in front of her nose, attached to corduroy trousers, with novelty socks peeking out.

“Whatcha doing there, kiddo?” Jerry’s chipper voice said loudly. “Got the old butterfingers, have you?”

“Something like that,” she said, all the energy draining from her.

A car door slammed in the distance, and an engine roared into life, chugging away and fading within a few long seconds, all with Rose still bent down on the porch.

Jerry shielded his eyes with his hand. “That’s a strange looking bus to me.”

He left. Of course he’d left. She groaned as she stood back up. “A friend gave me a ride home.”

Jerry nodded, standing aside so she could come inside. “You’ll have to ask your friend to come in next time, I know your Ma would love to meet them.”

Her laugh was shrill, just like earlier. “Wouldn’t that be nice, Jerry. I don't think he fancied coming in for a cup of tea.”

“Maybe next time, eh?”

She sighed heavily. “Maybe next time.”

The entrance foyer to the house was a mess. The facade of the fireplace was fancy as hell - and who the bloody hell has a fireplace in their foyer? - but the metal grate was missing and some tiles needed laying. The huge sweeping staircase was in need of a good sand and varnish and two spindles were missing. 

Rose had never minded living in a construction project, the dilapidated state of the house had given it a romantic air, but tonight she saw what others must see: decay. Her imagination was running wild, wondering where the murder had taken place. Hopefully not her room.

“There you are, love,” her Mum pottered into the hallway, a cup of tea in hand, her face drawn and tired, blonde Princess Di hairdo mussed up and tucked behind her ears. “How was your day at school?”

Rose kicked off her Doc Martens and stomped across the creaky floorboards. “Still alive, so there’s that at least.”

“Don’t,” Mum said, a hint of panic in her voice. “Don’t joke about that, Rosebud. My nerves won’t take it.”

She felt horrible, guilt eating away at her stomach. Rose’s little brush with death may have affected her far less than her mother, after all Rose went itn surgery and came back out feeling like shit, that was all. But Mum? She’d lived through being told her daughter was dead, and they’d begin resuscitation, with a slim chance of success. Yes, Rose knew the impact on her was far greater, despite the scar she lived with now.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” she gave her an impetuous hug, holding her tight. She’d lost weight, her bones felt fragile as a bird. “Shall we watch some telly that Jerry won’t understand? Monty Python, or Only Fools and Horses? I’ll make you a proper cup of tea, his always tastes a bit odd.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Jerry’s voice floated from somewhere across the house.

Her mother beamed, grabbing onto her tight. “Really? I thought you’d be busy, maybe even go to that school dance that’s on tonight.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “It’s not like a school disco, it’s all big poofy dresses and tuxedos. Plus, I think someone has to ask you.”

Mum settled in front of the TV, under a knitted blanket Rose had made when she was ten, misshapen and lumpy. “So. No nice boys at school then? No one you’d have liked to dance with?”

She snorted as she joined her mum on the couch, trying to imagine Eddie Munson in a bow tie, slow dancing to Bonnie Tyler or REO Speedwagon. “The less said about the boys at school the better.”

Her mum was no fool, her eyebrow twitched and she watched Rose with sudden interest. 

“Actually,” Rose reached for a diversion. “I have a favour to ask. Can my friend Robin come and stay tomorrow night? I may have promised her we’d watch a film.”

Mum’s face lit up. “Oh, that sounds lovely. Does Robin know about your heart?”

“No,” Rose moaned. “But i’ll add it to the interview process for my potential friends, shall I? Sense of humour, check. Good taste in music, check. Can recognise congenital heart failure and perform resuscitation, check.”

“No need to be sarcastic, dear. Invite her over, I’ll make sure Jerry is occupied in the garden or in the basement. Give you girls some peace, so you can gossip about musicians or boy bands or whatever girls your age talk about these days.”

“I think Robin wanted to watch something sophisticated, maybe something French. She speaks it too. Maybe a foreign film or a documentary.”

“God,” her mum sighed. “When I was your age...well, we didn’t spend much time watching documentaries, if you catch my drift. Ah, the sixties. Just before I met your father I had a fling with a very dashing pipe welder from Sheffield. My goodness, he had muscles in places I didn’t know could be muscled.”

Rose buried herself behind a stuffed pillow, muffling her cries of horror. “ Stop, please , before I vomit on the sofa.”

“Youth is wasted on the young. Do you want some booze tomorrow? I’ve got some Peach Schnapps and some Tia Maria in the pantry, on the top shelf.”

The pillow moved just slightly, until she could speak. “Yes please, Mum. If you’re going to talk about muscled pipe welders, i’ll need to be drunk.”

---

Rose slept fitfully that night, hovering on that surreal place between the waking world and the sleeping one. In her dreams she was floating aimlessly, on a river in the dark. At first it was peaceful but the current dragged her under. Through the muffle silence she could hear a melody, a beautiful tune hovering on the edge of her consciousness, like she’d left on her walkman and it was bleeding into her dreams.

She woke for the briefest of seconds, the delicate keys of a piano still thrumming through the air, an echo of the dream music in the quiet, creaking house. Her breath came short and she flung her arm out, grappling with the pull-switch on her lamp. Light flooded the room again, but there was nothing, no figure in the corner, no monster lurking in the shadows. Just the old piano by the window, untouched, and silent, the black and white keys illuminated by the lamp and the sliver of moonlight from her window.

She sagged back down on her bed. On the edge of her consciousness a thought crossed her mind; she would have sworn the lid over the keys was shut...wasn’t it? But sleep came for her like a thick, warm blanket, and any thoughts of haunting music and piano keys were forgotten.

[cryptomiracle]

Blue aura (eyeless jack x reader) pt 3

Read pt 1

...

Read pt 2

Warnings: mention of dead animals, decomposition, and blood.

readers POV:

The drive home felt like it would never end, you continuously thought about that blue thing you saw in the woods.

You couldn't help but feel bad for leaving Mark alone.

Even though you practically hated the guy, you didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

You took a left turn, leading to a rocky road surrounded by woods.

It was the shortest way, and by now you were ready to get home, and go to bed.

Some old country song coming from the radio, you reached to turn it off, when suddenly, a deer ran right in front of your car.

You slammed on the brakes, making anything you had in the back, fall, or fly up to the front.

Instead of running away, the deer just stood there.

Your eyes were locked on the deer, when it turned it's head, staring right at you.

it's eyes were gray, and milky.

It was bleeding from it's nose, and it's ribs were exposed, it wasn't near death, it was already dead, and decomposing.

The only thing drawing your attention away from the undead deer was the radio.

It started distorting, the singers voice going from high, to low and back again.

Then it started switching stations, going from country, to metal, to pop, while still distorted.

You pulled out your phone, but it was dead.

At this point your heart was racing, and your nerves were shot.

You know how you'll get a feeling that something is wrong, before it even happens?

Thats how you felt right now.

Staring into the deers lifeless eyes, something deep down told you that there was something wrong with this place, something vile, something that makes your stomach turn.

You always knew that this town was weird, and slightly off-putting.

But this is different, something is happening, something beyond comprehension.

Your fight or flight kicked in, you blew the horn trying to scare it away.

It definitely did something, because the deer stood up on its back legs before running off.

You wasted no time to speed off.

You quickly made it home, you locked all the doors, and windows, closed all the blinds, and put your phone on the charger.

You didn't even wait for your phone to charge before turning it on, and going straight to contacts.

You scrolled until you saw Mark's number.

You called once, no answer.

You called twice, no answer.

You called for the fourth time, and still no answer.

Your phone finally gave up and died.

Leaving you in a state of panic.

You ran to your room and pulled out your computer.

You hopped on your couch and immediately went to tabs.

"can animals come back from the dead?" Is the first thing you searched for.

You were displeased when the only thing that came up was about extinct animals.

"disease that brings animals back to life"

Once again, the only thing that came up was unrelated.

You huffed, still in a state of panic.

You tried one last time.

"woodland creatures that can bring things back to life"

You knew it was stupid, I mean, c'mon a woodland creature? Seriously??

You felt stupid for even looking this up.

Yet something came up.

Some website, titled "entities of the forest"

You hesitantly clicked on it.

Thank God for Ad Blockers and VPNs.

The website looked old, like it had been abandoned a while ago.

You scrolled a bit, when you found something.

A link leading to another forum titled "Slenderman"

You clicked on it

It took you to a video, you pressed play.

The video started, and it showed an old window looking out into the forest.

The camera turned around to show a young man, about 25-29.

He had a nervous look on his face

He looked pale, he looked sickly.

(this next part is one of my personal headcanons for Slenderman)

"I've been having these hallucinations of him."

His voice was scratchy, and lacked volume.

"I'll see him in the corner of my eye, just watching me.

But lately it seems he's no longer satisfied with just watching.

He's started to get psychical, first it was random things in my house going missing, like documents, and note books, in which I kept information about him in.

But now he's starting to send "messengers"

If that's what you could even call them .

I've found that he can "revive" forest creatures, like rabbits, deer, mice, etc.

Last night, I woke up to a decomposing buck on my porch, using it's horns to slam into my door.

It was never able to get in, but I assume that was just a warning.

I've also started to notice that whenever I go into town at night, dead rats will follow me around.

Cornering me in alleyways, or simply watching me from a distance."

He had a tired look in his eyes, there was no spark in them, he had huge eye bags, and his hair was a mess

"Nobody believes me when I tell them about it, not even my therapist.

I don't know what to do anymore, I can't back out now, I'm in too deep."

He ran his hand through his hair, and leaned back into his chair.

"Recently, my father passed away under "unknown circumstances"

I know it was him.

I don't know how, but he killed my father.

he'll probably kill my mother, and then-"

The video glitched, and switched to a shot of the forest floor.

You could hear his silent sobs in the background.

That's when the video cut off.

By this time it was already 2 am, your fear faded, but switched places with frustration.

You decided to just go to bed for the night, considering that the video gave you no answers, other than what's causing this.

You closed your computer, set it on the table, and walked to your room .

You didn't do your usual routine, heat up some leftovers, take a shower, and go to bed, this time you decided to just take a shower and hit the hay.

You flipped onto your bed, the soft pillows, and comforters deflating under you.

The lavender scented detergent you use creating, a soothing environment.

You got under the covers, and reached to turn your side lamp out.

You closed your eyes and got comfortable.

Too bad you couldn't go to sleep.

The thought of everything that happened kept you up.

The need for answers, plaguing your mind.

You did everything you could to try and go to sleep, from counting sheep, to making tea, but none of it would work.

So you decided to do some more research

What's the worst that could happen?

One more restless night wouldn't hurt.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

What are some music videos you associate with yourself and Miggy? If you'd rather not share, then that's perfectly fine! <3

It’s more like songs and I make music videos in my head lmao. Like scenarios

But literally any Lana del Ray song, I could write a 10 page essay on just those. Sunflower, hummingbird from the ITSV and ATSV soundtracks and the song sundress from ASAP rocky I imagine us doing like summer couple stuff, us on a road trip, going to the beach, etc etc. dancing in the kitchen at 2am to oldies like It was only a dream, forever, darling baby lol.

Very delulu of me ik lol

[phantom-scrybe]

update on the Not Entirely Alone music video!

update on the Not Entirely Alone music video!

the first draft is complete, i'm doing a few final runthroughs and I should have it posted tomorrow.

editing's been a bit of a rocky road, but I think I've found some solutions. A word of warning, I have had to remove part of the song for time constraint reasons, but I think the story still works. can't wait for y'all to see it! can't wait to hear what you think

tagging the genius themself here to keep them up to speed :)) @narcissistcookbook

[versus-weird-al]

Please listen to both songs before you vote!

"Mickey"

"Ricky"

Fun facts: "Ricky" was Weird Al's first music video! (Yesterday, we shared his second music video, "I Love Rocky Road." If you look closely, you'll see his character is wearing an "I Love Lucy" pin on his jacket.)

In "Ricky", Lucy is played by Tress MacNeille, whose work as a voice actress is so extensive that we won't list all her past roles here. Look her up! You're sure to have heard her before.

[threephantomrey]

IT’S A VERY SPECIAL DAYYYY!!!!🥳🥳🥳🥳

that’s right! it’s the 20th anniversary to my favorite movie of all time and my favorite Scooby Doo movie of all time, Scooby Doo and the Loch Ness Monster!!!!!

so i’ve already explained how much i love this movie in a post from almost two years ago but today, i am going to add MORE love for it in this post.

Scooby Doo and the Loch Ness Monster was probably, if not the first, one of the first movies i ever watched. many parts of it had stayed etched into my brain over the years. it was always my favorite, even through all my hyperfixations over the years and even when i went without watching it for a long time.

whenever i rewatch this movie, it feels like going back home. not just in the sense of feeling like i’m going back to when i was little and standing in front of my gray TV that would play it or going downstairs early in the morning to watch it on the TV we had in the living room and turning up the volume so loud it would wake up my dad. but also in the sense that it felt like going somewhere i belonged, rewatching the movie feels like getting a big warm hug from someone who watched you grow up and loves you. when i rewatch it, it feels like seeing an old friend again for the first time in years and finding out that they’re still the same person you loved back then. it’s a movie that never fails to give me comfort.

when i think of Loch Ness Monster, i don’t just think of the gang or the monster’s amazing design and the sounds it made, i also think of the opening scene, i think of lesbian icon Shannon Blake, Del Chillman the guy of all time and his van, all the beautiful backgrounds, Sir Ian Locksley, Professor Fiona Pembrooke and Velma fangirling over her, Colin and Angus Haggart, Blake Castle, Loch Ness, Duncan MacGubbin, Scooby carving a hole in the fog with his claw, the song Brothers Forever, Shaggy’s Rocky Road ice cream song, the scene where Shaggy and Scooby go to find the kitchen in the middle of the night that scared me when i was little so much i used to hide in my closet, Sir Ian’s submarine, the bad Scottish accents, Fred saying “da bomb diggity,” the ambiguous ending, Daphne’s pretty raincoat, you name it.

when i graduated high school, i used the line “hang onto your friends and you’ll get through whatever, soon you’ll be coming out the other side” from Brothers Forever for my high school yearbook quote. (yes, i actually did this) did anyone i went to high school with know what i was referencing? probably not, but it was awesome, and i have to give 17 year old me points for doing that.

i had even made this video in 2023 about the movie, in which i said i like to think of myself as the #1 Loch Ness Monster stan. and i think i stand by that. to me, it’s a beautiful and fun and lighthearted movie for families to enjoy and nostalgic and is full of comfort and makes you feel okay and safe🥹 (which yes, this definitely applies to Scooby Doo in general, but we’re specifically talking about Loch Ness Monster right now) with a song about friendship (Brothers Forever) that i also view to be a song specifically about Shaggy and Scooby’s friendship and the friendship between the whole gang. this is because of the lines “hang onto your friends and you’ll get through whatever, soon you’ll be coming out the other side” “wherever you go, i’ll be there by your side” “never we’ll part cause we’re stronger than ever” and “when it all falls apart, we gotta keep it together.”

and also the song is just really deep and meaningful in general. the second line in the song is literally “you’ve been hanging onto something, it’s really just enough it seems to me” and we also get these lyrics: “castles may stand but they don’t last forever, save what you can let the rest of it slide” “and this world feels like a monster who weighs a ton” “open your eyes and realize this life is just a crazy mystery” (which is such a Scooby Doo lyric) like BROOOO!!! this song is SO DEEP AND EMOTIONALLLL AND FOR WHATTTT🥺🥺 my favorite Scooby song of all time.

this movie may not be one of those pieces of Scooby Doo media that completely changed the status quo or had major impact on the fandom, (although it does do something different by having that ambiguous ending and the 3 monsters) but it was designed to not be like that. it was designed to be just a fun, traditional Scooby Doo movie with a little bit about Daphne’s family history and to be fun and lighthearted! and it does an AMAZING job at that! and you know what? it also gave us the iconic quote from Daphne “nothing’s impossible when you’ve got Scooby Doo around.” which is SO true and this movie deserves to be celebrated for that reason alone. it’s still important.

fun fact: i first heard about the Loch Ness Monster from this movie.

also the rivalry between Fiona and Ian? PERFECTION. i’d totally watch a movie about just them and their rivalry. and when he starts to believe her about the monster? top 10 sweetest moments ever. this movie just gives off such good vibes like it can really bring some comfort to you. if it was a person in real life, it’d definitely be someone you’d want to be friends with like they’d just be so chill and would cherish their friendships very much. this movie gives off a vibe of just staring out into the sunset over the sea and taking a deep breath, feeling the wind in your hair and the breeze around you and just appreciating everything.

here’s to the dark hallways we walked through while sticking beside our friends, the waters we dived into, the Blake family being danger-proned, the 3 monsters that chased us all around, the rivalry between those who don’t believe and those who do, what we’ve called the bomb diggity, everything that can be possible because Scooby Doo is around, men who are obsessed with the Loch Ness Monster and have a very cool van called the Loch Ness Monster Machine, brothers who will jump into the water when there’s a monster in it, their fathers who wished they would’ve prayed harder for daughters, and men who hold the record the most Loch Ness Monster sightings. may these memories live on for longer than 20 years.

happy anniversary Scooby Doo and the Loch Ness Monster. you are MY brother forever❤️

[weird-al-song-tourney]

'Weird Al' Yankovic Song Tournament

The Bad Bitches Era Round 5

I LOVE ROCKY ROAD

Music Video

Team 'Rocky Road', your mascot is:

Webby Vanderquack from DuckTales (2017)

PARTY IN THE C.I.A.

Music Video

Team 'C.I.A.', your mascot is:

Polly Plantar from 'Amphibia'

[aldbooks]

15. “Hey.  You know I love you, right?”

Gwynriel?? Please???

Prompts

I know this is supposed to be a serious prompt but the first thing that came to mind made me laugh…

---

"Azriel..."

At his girlfriend's sing-song voice, Az glanced up from video game he and his friends were playing. Gwyn waltzed into the room with a sweet smile that made him smile in return. Particularly when she came to stand beside him, perching a hip on the side of the couch. Her fingers brushed through his hair and he tilted his head back, eyes closing as he basked in the feeling. He hadn't been prone to PDA before he met Gwyn, but she brought something out in him. Beside him, he knew his friends were pretending not to notice.

"Yes, love?"

"You know I love you right?" she crooned. It should have been a giant flashing red light, that tone. His friends certainly seemed to think so, both of them sucking in sharp breaths and looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Azriel, however, was lulled into a sense of safety by the soothing strokes of her fingers. He grinned dreamily up at her. "I love you, too."

He thought he heard Cassian mumble something like "He's in for it."

Gwyn hummed and smiled back at him, stroking his cheek. His senses finally began to tingle with a hint of danger at the glint in her teal eyes. "Then perhaps you can explain to me why you ate all of my Rocky Road ice cream?” She punctuated the question with a tap on his nose that made him blink.

Rhys snorted as he and Cassian ducked their heads, suddenly very absorbed in the still paused game. Azriel’s eyes widened as he spluttered- “I-did not!”

Gwyn crossed her arms and looked down at him. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Without thinking, Az responded, “I’m an amazing liar.”

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed, her nostrils flaring slightly. Behind him, he heard Rhys let out a low whistle. Panicking, Az all but tossed his controller aside and shot up to his kneel beside her, almost strangling himself in the chord for the headset he forgot he was still wearing.

“That is not what I meant.” He grabbed her hands, pulling them to his chest before she could pull away from him. “I would never lie to you, dove. I swear.”

She gave a delicate sniff of disbelief, turning away from him. He squeezed her hands tighter. “And I’m not lying about this.” He was positive- almost positive… he had been very hungry when he stumbled in after work last night with a sweet tooth…

But no, he knew better than to touch Gwyn’s sacred stash- as she called it. He didn’t even like Rocky Road. He was a butter pecan man, all the way. But on the rare occasion he got a craving for sweets, it didn’t always matter what the flavor was, so long as the main ingredient was sugar.

“Fuck,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe he had eaten it. “I’ll get you some more. I’ll go right now, ok. Just- don’t be mad at me, please.” He stood, moving around the couch towards the door even as he still held her hands, bending down to shower the backs of them with kisses.

Her eyes narrowed a moment longer before she acquiesced with a purse of her lips and roll of her eyes. He held back a smile. It wasn’t safe to smile until she had a fresh container of rocky road in her hands. “I love you,” he said, stealing a kiss before releasing her and practically sprinting for the door. Scooping up his keys and wallet, he stuffed his feet in his shoes and just heard her says she loved him back as the door closed behind him.

The room was silent for a moment as they all watched the door after Azriel left. Once they heard his engine rumble away, Cassian leaned back on the couch and said “you know it was me who ate your ice cream right? Sorry, Gwynnie.”

A smirk played over her lips as she turned to him. “Oh I know. I also knew if Az thought it was him, he’d not only immediately go get more, but would likely spend all night making up for it.” She grinned, winking.

Cass and Rhys laughed appreciatively. “Devious,” Rhys muttered as she fell into the seat Az had just vacated, taking up his mic and controller.

“Now, where are we.”

[xplrvibes]

On the final episode of the Conjuring house do you think the priest? was right when she was reading the Tarots cards for Colby and Sam life? cos I don’t really understand these cards or reading about the future lol.. what do you think?

I do, in a sense.

The thing with tarot cards is that they predict your life if you continue on the path you are currently on, and as the old Led Zeppelin song goes: "there's still time to change the road you're on."

So things can change, but overall, they are an interesting look into someone's psyche and potential future.

Now, the thing that really lends credence to the cards with snc is that when the priestess, Ashley, read their tarot back in January, everything she said came alarmingly true.

In that January reading, the question that was asked was: "What do our next 6 months look like?"

Here was her response:

"So, here's a couple of things. You both need to learn to start owning your own energies, like your psychic energies.

Here we have the Hermit. He has this little lamp that he's carrying around. You need to find your own lamp, whatever that is. I don't care what energy, what deity that you take in there, but you need some light around you. You're going into these places but you're going in, in a foolish way.

If you do not learn how to cleanse yourselves, you're going to be in a lot of pain.

Something is going to happen in the next 6 months where you will both be up at 3am crying.

What you're doing is good - the spirit really likes what you're doing...you're really educationg people. You're bringing knowledge and light to information. But you need to make sure you're doing it in a way that isn't harming you.

Learn how to take better care of yourselves.

When you have both the 9 and 10 of swords, this shows me that something could attach to you that could be really really hard to get off and cause you insanity. So, we really wanna step up and realize that we're.not playing games anymore and this is a serious thing I'm doing.

[To Colby:] You're the one who has the more psychic energy so it's going to be you being able to really grow, essentially."

Now, that is the part of the Tarot that they made public in the first video she appeared in. What they did not make public until much later (according to the Occult Unveiled Podcast) was that she did also see some kind of sadness/illness related pain in Colby's future, and that she saw the end of a relationship in Sam's (which apparently Sam did not include in the January video because he didn't want to make things "rocky" lol).

Anyway, looking at the above: the timeline of the first reading was mid-January, less than a week before Colby was diagnosed with cancer. The cards told Colby that he would have a hard, painful, and sad six months, and...well. He did. 6 months almost to the day, considering he was given the all-clear from his doctors at the beginning of July.

Sam was also told he'd have an emotional 6 months and would see the end of a relationship...and well, we all know that man's been on a roller coaster.

They were also told that they were in a bad and dangerous place, spiritually and with regards to the paranormal and honestly, I don't even think we need tarot cards to see that was true lol.

So yea...based on her reading in January and how true it all turned out to be, I really think there is something to the cards they got this time around.

I think Sam has clearly finally started to let go of some of that skepticism he's been holding on to for his entire life, and it's opening up a brand new world for him (new chapter, new book, etc). He is learning more about himself now that he doesn't have that other person to fill him (Katrina) - and from the way he's been talking, I think breaking up with her has been a jolt to his sense of self and confidence (sorry Kat, lol). Basically everything in his reading is about starting fresh, both in his personal life and in his journey into being a believer of the paranormal, and I think that tracks

He's also gotta stop being a massive fuck boy, apparently. 🤣 (and no, I will not stop bringing that up)

And for Colby...the interesting thing about Colby is that, all of his readings that he's ever had, always come with a twinge of sadness for him. Look back at the video he did with the psychic on his personal channel that time, or these readings with Pythian Priestess, or the readings they had done in a few videos in 2019. There's always this undercurrent of "the things from your past haunt you, and you struggle with them greatly." So even though his cards did have a lot of positivity to them (more so than in January), they also carried that ever-present sadness with them.

And sadly, for Colby, that tracks.

He was given a card of healing, and.obvooisly this was filmed only a month after he was declared cancer free and he was still very much healing physically, but I think the emotional aspect of healing from a life threatening illness is something that ebbs and flows, and will with him for a long time. But then there's that trauma or sadness that he carries with him that he just can't move past. That keeps him stuck in place - whether it's in relationships, or his professional career, or whatever else (and it's probably all over the board, I think he's got a lot going on there). Overall, I think his reading tracks.

And of the two of them, I think Sam will continue on the path the cards had him on, whereas Colby, sadly, will probably not do as much mental healing and letting go/moving on as the cards suggested he should.

Anyway, this got unbelievably long and I apologize. To summarize: yes, I believe in the readings they got and I am super interested to see where they are in their lives in another 3 months to see if it matches up to this last reading!

[joethetoonfanandoutcast]

Xover Possibility: Scooby-Universal-Doo

This is a limited crossover series I'm now considering.

Scooby and the gang have teamed up with several celebrities and a few famous characters in taking down ghosts and solving mysteries under WB's commission, but let's see what happens if they end up in the Universal Pictures cyber universe and end up doing…well, pretty much the same formula, except with versions of the Universal animated characters.

Here are some possibilities I thought up.

Franchise: Despicable Me Characters teamed up with: Felonious Gru, Lucy Wilde, and three of the Minions Type of monster/ghost: Chronology: before Despicable Me 3 or Despicable Me 4 Guest Voices: Steve Carell, Kristen Wiig, Steve Coogan, and Pierre Coffin Chase scene song: "Chuck Berry" by Pharrell Williams (from Despicable Me 3)

Franchise: the Lorax Characters teamed up with: Ted Wiggins, Audrey, and the Lorax (whom Mystery Inc believes is a mascot) Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: Michael Cera, Ashleigh Ball, Danny DeVito and Chris Renaud Chase scene song: n/a

Franchise: the Secret Life of Pets Characters teamed up with: Katie, Max, Duke, Gidget, and Snowball Type of monster/ghost: Note: The pets will be able to communicate thanks to a translation device Gru briefly lets the gang borrow Guest Voices: Patton Oswalt, Eric Stonestreet, a Kevin Hart soundalike, Jenny Slate, Ellie Kemper, and Lori Alan Chase scene song:

Franchise: the Road to El Dorado Characters teamed up with: Modern-day lookalike descendants of Miguel, Tulio and Chel with the same names Type of monster/ghost: Stone Jaguar Guest Voices: Kevin Kline, a Kenneth Branagh soundalike, and Rosie Perez Chase scene song: n/a

Franchise: Shrek/Puss in Boots Characters teamed up with: Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: ??? Chase scene song: ?

Franchise: Wallace & Gromit Characters teamed up with: Wallace & Gromit Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: ??? Chase scene song: a UK rock band song

Franchise: Kung Fu Panda Characters teamed up with: "furry cosplayers" Po and the Furious Five (minus Mantis) Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: Jack Black, Kari Wahlgren, David Cross, Lucy Liu, and a Jackie Chan soundalike Chase scene song: Dumpling Warrior Remix (instrumental) from Kung Fu Panda 2

Franchise: Megamind Characters teamed up with: Megamind, Minion, and Roxanne Ritchi Type of monster/ghost: Note: Megamind vs. the Doom Syndicate and its TV series would be ignored Guest Voices: Keith Ferguson, David Cross, and Tina Fey Chase scene song: "Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osborne

Franchise: Mr. Peabody & Sherman Characters teamed up with: Who else? Mr. Peabody and Sherman Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: Chris Parnell and a male child actor Chase scene song: "Way Back When" by Grizzfolk

Franchise: Rocky & Bullwinkle Characters teamed up with: Rocket J. Squirrel and Bullwinkle J. Moose Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: Kath Soucie, Tom Kenny, and any voice from the 2018 cartoon Chase scene song: ?

Franchise: Captain Underpants Characters teamed up with: George Beard, Harold Hutchins, and a reluctant Benjamin Krupp/Captain Underpants Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: Jay Gragnani, Ramone Hamilton, Jorge Diaz, and either Nat Faxon or Ed Helms Chase scene song: "Captain Underpants" by Weird Al Yankovic

Franchise: the Bad Guys Characters teamed up with: the Bad Guys Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: Sam Rockwell, Awkwafina, Marc Maron, Craig Robinson, Anthony Ramos, Alex Borstein, and Lily Singh Chase scene song: ?

Franchise: Ruby Gillman Characters teamed up with: Ruby and Agatha Gillman Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: Lana Condor, Toni Collette, Colman Domingo, Sam Richardson, Blue Chapman, Jaboukie White-Young, and Will Forte Chase scene song: n/a

Franchise: Mario Characters teamed up with: Mario and Luigi Type of monster/ghost: Bowser Koopa Guest Voices: Chris Pratt, Charlie Day, Jack Black, Jessica Diciccio, and Sebastian Maniscalo Chase scene song: Mario video game music

Franchise: Curious George Characters teamed up with: Curious George and Ted the Man in the Yellow Hat Type of monster/ghost: Guest Voices: Jeff Bennett, Bill Chott, and Rolonda Watts Chase scene song: n/a

I'm not absolutely certain I'll do this, as I'm already committed to other things. In fact, I might give this series idea to someone more qualified to write crossover mysteries. But still, if anyone would like to suggest types of monsters or ghosts Mystery Inc and their new co-detectives would be facing, I could try to think of the episode plots for them. Also, don't suggest the villains' identities unless through private note, otherwise it would kill the mystery.

[dogmouthhorse]

rocky road, peach, & black cherry!

rocky road: favorite songs at the moment? ummmmm these

peach: how do you relax? i like pictures :) make a picture listen 2 a video essay ive already seen

black cherry: four words that describe you? ouuuuuu. lesbian clown citrus flavour

[cheolbinsart]

🌛 220527 🌜 #EB_todaysBIN

ASTRO 아스트로 Fancafe Update

Behind Photos from ASTRO's 'CANDY SUGAR POP' Music Video

🌟 All materials are provided by Fantagio

🌟 Reproduction for commercial use of photos ❌ STRICTLY PROHIBITED

🌟 Specify specific sources for all Fancafe contents

💜 ASTRO's 3rd Full Album, 'Drive to the Starry Road', I believe is one of ASTRO's best albums (TBH, all their albums have great songs,YES!!). I'm saying this as the title track, 'Candy Sugar Pop' had #JINJIN, #MOONBIN and #ROCKY participated in in the lyrics-making of this song. This album also consists of solo songs per member which they've also participated in either composing, producing, arranging and lyric writing. ASTRO = talented geniuses, indeed!!! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

[dirtanddistance]

Halfway There: Run Ridge Run Race Report

Race: Run Ridge Run by Coast Mountain Trail Running

Distance: 25k, 3200ft vert

Location: Port Moody, BC

Time: 4:18:48

Goal: Don't cry, have fun - ACHIEVED

Sometimes, there's no amount of repetition that makes a challenge easier, and I'm starting to think that the Diez Vista ascent portion of RRR 25k and the DV 50k is one of those things. Having run the course twice already this winter, my trusty run buddies and I were excited to tackle it for time.... and also dreading that grinding ascent.

As any good running pod does, the three of us set out the night before for packet pick up, and a stop by Rocky Point Ice Cream for some cones before dinner in the hopes that a little treat would fortify us for the next day. After a series of road races over the past couple of months, I was itching to get back to the trails for a formal event. While the grind of an uphill slog is soul crushing, I don't think I would trade it for the nausea and occasional asthma attacks of trying to run as fast as I can down some flat pavement again any time soon. Race bibs and ice cream cones in hand, we were ready to take on whatever Saturday morning was going to bring us.

The morning was mild, and we lucked out on the rain holding off until well into the race. I had a feeling my husband was going to drop me and our other run buddy in pretty short order despite his Charlie-the-Unicorn caliber complaints that "three cheesy eggs was probably an excessive breakfast for race day", but he was still near me by the time we had dragged ourselves all the way up to the Diez Vista sign. However, the blue babbling unicorn to my pink rambling unicorn was nowhere in sight. Upon questioning, my husband reported that she'd "dropped" a while ago on the climb and then sprang off into the distance, unperturbed by the treacherous descent ahead of us and seemingly unfazed by the grueling ascent we'd just made. As I meandered along, carefully avoiding slippery spots and gingerly placing my feet to avoid sliding down deceitfully slimy rocks, I realized that 'dropped' could mean multiple things. I did not want to believe that she could have quit the race (but honestly I wouldn't have blamed her - that climb is no thoughts just vert), and vowed to wait up for her a little farther along the trail when it opened up. My relief was palpable when a familiar headband appeared in my peripheral vision, confirming the presence of my long-suffering, peer pressured companion.

Speaking of, the reason I was not at this event alone was because I had peer pressured my husband and running bestie into doing this with me, as preparation for the other race I pressured them into, the Diez Vista 50k in April. This course is essentially the front half of that race, so of course we should do it! They were probably questioning this reasoning on the way back off the ridge, but didn't voice any complaints. These are the kind of people you want to pressure into trail running with you. Absolute yes-people.

A hobby that running bestie and I have gotten into is describing our very lengthy training runs in terms of an open world video game. Being out in BC, you quickly realize that you've been dropped into an IRL Breath of the Wild type map to run around in. It starts raining sometimes. The weather shifts. You're out long enough that the daylight changes noticeably over the course of the run. There are NPCs that join you for short periods and at the aid stations that you can interact with. You're running a side quest to pick up enough trash to merit a free pair of socks at the finish line. You're snacking on health-restoring elixirs imbued with arcane energy. On this logic, you quickly devolve into letting your brain go completely feral. Thoughts enter and exit without rhyme or reason. Your internal monologue is feeding you random early 2000s YouTube video quotes and songs you haven't listened to on purpose ever in your life (I have not even once listened to Beauty and a Beat by Justin Bieber and Nicki Minaj intentionally).

It's been years and years since I ran a race with a friend, and never a trail race. This is the cheat code. I think that with a good run buddy you could probably cover untold kilometers as long as you both were prepared to feed each other the most absurd thoughts from the depths of your meme stuffed Millenial minds. We decided that the Brightline train line in Florida was a worthy topic of conversation and speculation for a nontrivial quantity of the course. I have a feeling that my husband raced off from us is because he knows that he is the Charlie the Unicorn to our pink and blue unicorns, and that if he sticks around we will eventually tell him to put a banana in his ear. However, it was his words at the finish line that sealed the experience for me: "You two just looked like you were having so much fun when you got to the finish line. You looked so happy." After hours of running through mist shrouded forests, up and down hill after hill, dodging rocks and roots and small rivers, telling ourselves we were graceful fae princesses frolicking through our kingdom, I arrived at the finish line incredibly tired, incredibly ready to be done running, and happier than I though you could be at the end of a race. I collected my hard-earned Gary Robbins finish line hug, and the three of us grinned, dirty and tired, ready to tackle the second half of this training cycle and face the final boss - the Diez Vista 50k.

Bonus Chapter: The Juice Vendor NPC

Running Bestie and I finally peeled ourselves away from the refreshment tent to go get changed after finishing, leaving our partners to discuss whatever it is that brogrammers discuss by a fire on a gloomy beach, but were quickly arrested in our path by an older fellow beseeching us to wait as he had blueberry juice for us. I do not know how we managed to spend five minutes discussing how many samples each of us were to collect, but we left that baffling conversation with about 6 locally made juice pouches each. All this to say, you should always hit the dialog button to engage because sometimes, the merchant characters have elixirs imbued with arcane energy to give you.